The Elimination Fields briefly shimmered to show their activation, as Popo and Nana stepped off of the glowing red platform that lowered itself to hover just above the entrance ramp. Popo barely registered the humming of the device on his left wrist—synchronized with the Fields' activation—as he watched Pichu and (Young) Link disembark from matching platforms. On the opposite ramp, blue platforms were dropping off their opponents: the orange-haired Inkling girl, Simon Belmont, and Ridley.

The din of the crowd slowly died down in anticipation.

Crazy Hand floated down to the center of the ring. He regarded the assembled fighters, before crooking his finger towards the ceiling. The microphone lowered down and he hovered beside it, holding up three fingers.

"THREE!"

Popo tightened his grip on the mallet.

"TWO!"

Nana's open mitten appeared on his right. "Who're we going after?" She asked.

"ONE!"

Popo took her hand and gave it a quick squeeze, then pointed straight ahead. "The mutant condor over there."

"GO!" Crazy Hand snapped his fingers, and the match began.

Together, they immediately charged down the ramp. Their allies, who were dropped off closer to the center of the stage, had already engaged Simon and the Inkling by the time he'd leapt into the ring, Nana at his heels.

Even before he'd landed, Popo had to twist his body to avoid getting hit by a spinning blur of blue and silver. Turning to where it came from, he spotted Link hunkering down behind his shield, slowly advancing towards Simon. Popo started towards Link, eager to support—

"WATCH OUT!"

Nana's arms wrapped around him and he was dragged to the ground. Struggling, he looked up in time to see the blur from before returning to Simon's hand—some sort of cross. The vampire hunter then lobbed something else up into the air; Popo rolled the both of them off to the right, hearing the all-too familiar thunk of an axe lodging itself where they were as he scrambled to his feet.

Where was Ridley? Popo started to look around when a triangular object landed at his feet. He threw his hands up just in time to shield his face from an explosion of orange ink. Behind him, he could hear sputtering and yelling. Taking a quick step backwards, he risked a glance to Nana.

He bit his lip to stop himself from laughing; she was coated almost entirely in orange, and she turned a baleful glare towards him.

"Not one word," she snarled through gritted teeth.

"Sorry, I—"

A barrage of stinging impacts flared across his back, overriding the rest of his apology with a yelp of pain. He whirled around and saw the smirking squid-girl, some distance away, with her weapon trained on him. Pichu was nowhere in sight.

Her smirk turned into a sneer, and she squeezed the trigger.

Click.

Her sneer vanished, as Popo's teeth flashed in a brief grin.

Popo and Nana each fired off an Ice Shot and he ran behind the sliding projectiles, trying to gauge the Inkling's next move. She jumped away and to the right, well out of the reach of anything he could land a hit with. As he altered course to continue his pursuit, two things happened: Pichu had rocketed itself towards the Inkling from out of nowhere, and Nana's mitten clamped over his shoulder to bodily haul him backwards.

"Nana!? What the—"

Two large, clawed feet raked the canvas where he had just been standing, leaving behind deep gashes as Ridley landed from a diving attack.

Thankfully, Popo quickly recovered from his shock and took action. Leaping towards the beast, he wound up for an overhead swing. Ridley, unfortunately, was much faster; a clawed hand lashed out and swiped at his side. A second swipe hit his chest straight-on. Popo fell backwards, narrowly avoiding the snapping jaws of a third attack. He hit the ground and tucked into a roll to lessen the impact, halting in a kneeling position after a few tumbles.

With a grunt, he hauled himself to his feet using the ring ropes. He only had a moment to collect himself, though; Nana was buying him time to recover by distracting Ridley, and he needed to be with her. Sprinting back towards the battle, Popo bellowed out a challenging shout.

With an answering roar, Ridley shoved Nana out of the way and rushed to meet Popo head-on.

They clashed near the center of the ring to a chorus of cheers. Popo connected a swing to the side of Ridley's head. Ridley raked a claw across Popo's torso. Fire and ice snuffed each other out. Nana rejoined the fight, and she coordinated with Popo to slowly drive Ridley back towards the ring ropes. Popo saw an opening and held his hand out behind him. When he felt Nana's arm hook around his, he initiated their signature Squall Hammer maneuver and together they spun towards their opponent.

A swipe from Ridley's tail disrupted their maelstrom of mallets before it could do much damage, creating some space for the winged beast. Ridley surged forward and grabbed Popo by the front of his parka. Popo struggled against the mighty grip, but he was easily lifted over and behind Ridley's shoulder. Adding insult to the predicament, Popo got a face-full of membranous wing just before he was flung towards far side of the ring.

Descending towards the ring ropes, Popo couldn't help a wide grin; he had continued to watch that program Ness had shown him all those weeks ago, and admittedly wanted to try a maneuver he'd seen once. He landed on the second rope—the deadliest rope, he'd heard a commentator once say—feet-first and pushed off from it, springing back towards Ridley. Twisting his body in mid-air, he readied his mallet to deliver a backhanded—

—pain, coldness, blinding light—

—blow to his adversary's head. What just happened?

He found himself staring impassively up at the arena lights, lazily noting a strange blackness encroaching upon the edges of his vision. A sharp, agonizing pain in his heart was quickly replaced with a chilly, disconnected feeling. The cacophony of the crowd and the surrounding battles was cut to a distant roar as a heavy fatigue began to set into limbs he realized he could feel less and less of.

Maybe if he just rested his eyes for a few moments…

There was a tight pressure on his left wrist, followed by a sting, and his body was filled with warmth that he didn't realize was missing. His eyes snapped open and he sat bolt upright with a gasp, blinking in an effort to get his suddenly blurry vision to coalesce. There was an incessant ringing in his ears as he whipped his head around to get his bearings.

He could see Pichu and the Inkling jockeying for an advantage in the low space surrounding the ring, in front of where the veterans were sitting and cheering; the Inkling awkwardly brandishing a Beam Sword as she attempted to ward off the electric rodent's rapid attacks. Simon and Link were still locked in a stalemate; their respective arsenals of ranged weaponry were keeping one another at bay.

A white sphere dropped from somewhere above, landing near his right hand, but movement from about halfway up the red entrance ramp pulled his attention away before he could really get a look at it.

In the distance, Nana was swinging her mallet with wild abandon at a slowly backpedaling Ridley. Just behind the latter, Popo could just make out the shimmering border of the Elimination Field. They got within a specific distance of the field—maybe a few meters—when it started to steadily pulse. Each pulse was matched by a strong vibration of his wrist-mount.

He couldn't just sit here; not while Nana was so close to elimination. With a grunt, Popo pressed the head of his mallet onto the canvas and used the handle as a crutch to struggle to his feet.

By the time he'd reached a vertical base, the ringing in his ears died down enough for him to realize that the crowd was chanting something. Ignoring the spectators for now, he looked down and saw the white sphere from before, the red exclamation point practically staring back at him. Without a second thought, he scooped up the Pitfall Seed and flung it towards Simon. He didn't wait to see if it hit, instead taking up his mallet and leaping out of the ring.

By the time his feet hit the ground, his hearing returned completely. He sprinted up the ramp, a wide smile breaking out as the words of the crowd reached his ears.

"LET'S GO CLIMBERS," Clap, clap, clap-clap-clap.

"LET'S GO CLIMBERS," Clap, clap, clap-clap-clap.

Ridley's head snapped up to look at Popo; whether this was from hearing the chants or instinct, Popo wasn't sure. Slightly widened eyes narrowed before he unleashed an oddly acrobatic kick that sent Nana flying away, back towards the ring. Popo jumped high and attempted to grab her hand as she sailed overhead, but even activating his double-jump didn't give him the height he'd needed to reach her.

Popo wasn't allowed time to see where she'd landed, because Ridley was already within arm's reach. He brought his mallet down in an overhead swing and was rewarded with the sound of wood smacking against chitin. A lateral swing during his descent only glanced off of Ridley's flank. As he landed, Ridley was rearing back with an orange glow in his maw. Popo only had enough time to raise his hands to guard against a close-range barrage of fireballs.

He channeled a Blizzard spell in retaliation, sealing Ridley in a large block of ice. This close to the Field, one solid hit should eliminate Ridley and he could either find Nana or help out his team. Unfortunately, just as Popo was winding up a mighty swing, Ridley burst out of his frigid prison and all but instantly wrapped his fingers around Popo's throat. A sudden shift in vision left him momentarily disoriented as he was slammed into the ground. Painful sensations ran along his entire backside as Ridley proceeded to drag him at a high speed down the entrance ramp, the faces of spectators passing him in a blur.

They came to a stop beside the ring, if the shaking lights overhead were any indication. He was—mercifully—lifted off the ground, only to be slammed—unmercifully—into the ring's apron. He couldn't stop the cry of pain as the back of his head bounced off of the top edge of that short wall.

Ridley's palm pressed against Popo's sternum, pinning him in place and forcing the air out of his lungs. Popo wheezed as Ridley leaned in, turning his long head to get a single eye close to Popo's face. All Popo could do was bare his teeth and struggle against the hand holding him up, as his arm was in too awkward a position to swing his mallet effectively; Ridley seemed to know this, making no move to release him.

The eye quickly scanned over Popo before glaring into his face, and Ridley started to speak in a low hissing voice.

"How did you surv—"

Popo had tucked in his legs and kicked out, twisting his crampons into the side of Ridley's head. Ridley screeched in pain and the hold loosened enough for Popo to wriggle out. He landed in a kneeling position and sucked in a good lungful of air. A shadow passed above, and the head of a mallet heralded the arrival of a pink and white blur. The mass slammed into Ridley's back, between his wings, and he was forced back a couple steps.

Emboldened by Nana's return, Popo surged forward and the two of them began a coordinated assault of mallet swings and ice spells. Ridley stood his ground, answering with a slew of limb strikes and fireballs. Popo shifted his mallet to his left hand and held his right hand, palm facing up, at shoulder-height and crooked his fingers twice. Almost immediately, he felt Nana's boot settle upon his mitten.

Popo pushed upwards with all of his strength, and Nana gracefully leapt off of his hand at the full reach of his arm.

Ridley's head bobbed up and down, clearly torn between which climber to go after. He settled on Popo, stepping forward with his jaws widened.

With a triumphant shout, Nana landed astride Ridley and wasted no time in raining a series of two-handed swings upon his head and neck. Her newfound ride hissed and roared as he spun around and bucked his body in an effort to dismount her, but she hung on tight by grasping his spindly neck with one hand while she continued to bash him with one-handed swipes. All the while, she cackled with glee and yelled various taunts.

Popo was so focused on the spectacle that he almost didn't register a faint fizzling sound somewhere to his left. He tried to tune out the noise, but it tugged at an old instinct that he couldn't ignore for some reason. A pulsing red light started to accompany the noise, demanding attention that he no longer had any choice but to supply.

A Bob-omb glared up at him, its fuse just about burnt up completely.

Eyes widening, Popo shouted a warning and raised his palm towards the living incendiary. Before he could even begin channeling, the Bob-omb detonated, scattering the three combatants with its powerful blast. He barely heard the announcement of Ridley's elimination as he rocketed off towards the stands, pinwheeling as he flew. The last thing he noticed before hitting the Elimination Field was one cheeky spectator holding up a baseball glove like they were going to catch him.

Nana hit the red crash pads in an indignant landing. She tumbled along the air-filled ground before coming to a rest at the padded far wall, her back and legs resting against it while her head, shoulders, and arms were touching the floor.

Popo barreled through the invisible portal a second later. He skipped like a stone over the cushioned flooring until the top of his head lightly bumped into hers as he finally came to a stop. They lay there in silence for a moment before Nana righted herself with a groan.

As she got to her feet, she looked around the chamber they were in. One wall held a large monitor, currently playing the match in progress. Along the wall next to the right lay a series of deactivated platforms; since the match was set for single elimination, there was no need for them. The left wall was transparent, and she could just make out the outline of a door. Across the hallway was a similar room in blue, and she frowned when she spotted Ridley slowly pacing back and forth within its confines.

"Maybe we shouldn't have gone straight for the 'Cunning God of Death'," she muttered with a stretch. When Popo didn't respond, she tried for a more encouraging tone. "Hey, at least he was taken out too, right?"

He still said nothing.

"…Popo?" She pulled her gaze from Ridley and focused on her partner, who was sitting on the floor watching the monitor.

Its display featured a split-screen, so people could easily watch the remaining Smashers with ease. The screen was currently divided into thirds, with the two sections on the sides showing the separate fights between the Inkling, Pichu, Simon, and Link.

The third section, in the center, was showing replays of Popo and herself taking the fight to Ridley. How they exchanged blows with one another, Nana getting separated from Popo…

…Three different angles of Popo getting run through by Ridley's tail…

…And then Popo just lying there. The camera switched to a bird's-eye view, showing the lack of wound before he suddenly jolted to a seated position. The replay then skipped ahead to when the Bob-omb marched up to their final standoff with Ridley, eliminating all three of them with its detonation. Following these replays, the center of the display collapsed and the other two fights were now shown side-by-side.

She grimaced as memories of that horrible attack bobbed to the surface of her mind. Her panicked screaming of Popo's name a she watched his body fall to the canvas, then pursuing Ridley up the ramp in a blind rage…

…No. She can dwell on that after tending to him.

She slowly walked around him, feeling a pang of pity at how…small he looked, silhouetted against the glow of the screen. She came to a stop in front of him, and he blankly stared through her with misty eyes. He absently rubbed at his chest while he stared ahead, eventually blinking and raising his eyes to hers with a pleading look that she hadn't seen in years.

"Are…are we done now?" he asked in a soft voice. "I need to lie down…"

She took a deep breath and knelt before him, drawing him into a hug. "I wish we were; they're gonna want us to stick around until the broadcast closes out… You think you can hold out for a bit more?"

"No, I—" He suddenly tensed up and shoved her away. With a squawk of alarm she fell onto her rear. Scathing words died in her mouth though as she watched Popo leap to his feet, hands clamped firmly over his mouth. He then lurched towards the transparent wall and shouldered the door open, slamming it into the poor worker Mii that had arrived to open it for him. After a frantic search of the hallway, he dashed off towards the left.

Nana made it to the door just in time to watch Popo drape himself over the edge of an equipment container and empty his stomach into it. Another Mii saw this and started shouting as he floated over with rage on his face.

"HEY!" roared Nana as she stomped across the short distance to intervene. She ignored the tingling sensation of static discharge as she held her nose less than an inch from the Mii's appalled face. "You try keeping a meal down after watching yourself get impaled—"

"Oh, Sila…" Popo moaned, followed by more retching.

"—repeatedly on television!" She paused before quickly adding, "Oh, uh, sorry Popo."

"'S okay," He murmured.

The Mii tried to return to a semblance of his previous outrage. "But Miss, he's using—"

"Wait, hold on a second." Nana spun away from the flustered Mii and knelt beside Popo. She checked the front of his parka and, seeing it was clean, took a moment to remove it. She then helped him resume his previous stance over the metal box, whispering encouraging words into his ear. She was pleased to see that, apart from the chunky puddle of Popo's last meal, the container was empty.

That in mind, she rounded back onto the Mii. "You would prefer him puking all over the floor!? Did Master Hand forget to give you people common sense or something!?" She jerked a thumb over her shoulder. "There's nothing else in that box. So when he's done, you can have someone take it out back, hose it out, and it'll be like nothing happened. Is that so hard?"

"Y…yes, Miss—I mean no, Miss!" The Mii hovered backwards, spherical hands held out as if he were warding off a wild animal. "Just…leave it when he's finished with it…"

Without waiting for an answer, the worker scurried away. As much as he could 'scurry' while hovering over the ground, anyway.

A minute passed with only the sounds of Popo spitting out the last vestiges of bile to fill the silence. After a final wet cough, she heard him shuffling to his feet.

"I…I think I'm good now," He said after clearing his throat. "I need a rinse so badly, though…"

"Maybe they'll give us some water after everyone's done with the fight," She replied, turning his parka over in her hands. She was surprised to see that his coat, while suffused with the odor of exertion (and a hint of bile), had no visible tears or holes in it. After removing and pocketing her leather mittens, she ran a hand over the soft fabric of the parka. There wasn't a mark to be found anywhere on it.

She turned around to get a better look at her partner. Ignoring his justified pallor, he appeared otherwise healthy. Standing straight in spite of just losing his lunch, no tears or cuts in his undershirt, and his eyes were clear and alert.

Their gazes locked and Nana raised her eyebrows slightly. Popo's lips twisted and he looked down and to his right with a tiny shake of the head. Her eyebrows shot up further and she closed the short distance between them to glare into his eyes.

He leaned back and rubbed his hands over his face. "Nana, please—"

"No, Popo," she said, commanding notes seeping into her voice. She grabbed his hands and pulled them down so she could continue to stare into his eyes. "This isn't something you're getting out of talking about. I was also there when it happened, so don't think it didn't affect—"

"No, it's—"

"COD DAMN IT," a voice thundered from the blue padded room. Nana turned around just in time to see what looked like a heavily modified…bucket…bounce off of the transparent wall with enough force to rattle it. Orange ink marked the point of impact, and slowly ran down the surface.

That's right; the match was still going on.

With an exasperated sigh she released his hands and spun on her heel. She'd taken a few steps towards the red room when Popo took a gentle, but firm, hold of her hand. Part of her wanted to press on, but she didn't really feel up for a tug-of-war at present.

Instead she stopped, but made no move to look at him.

"Please, Nana, just…" She heard him take a deep breath. "...I promise we'll talk about this, okay? Not here, though; when we get home tonight." His thumb lightly brushed over her palm. "If uh, that's alright with you, I mean."

Nana couldn't stop herself from rolling her eyes towards the ceiling. This was as good as she was going to negotiate from the boy, but she supposed this really wasn't something to discuss in front of everyone else—especially with the culprit close by.

After a couple seconds of mulling it over, Nana gave his hand a quick squeeze and pulled him forward as she walked. The first worker Mii held the door open for them as they drew near, and closed it behind them.

Once they were isolated again, she spun to face Popo once more. "Yeah, that's alright. And I'm holding you to this, okay? I don't want either of us getting broody and trying to bottle it up, unless you want a repeat of what's happened every other time we did that." She leaned in, almost touching her nose to his. "…Do you?"

He looked down for a second and shook his head. "No… No, I don't."

Placing her palm under his chin, she lifted his gaze so he could take in her smile. "Good! Now let's watch the rest of this match and we can—"

A white flash from behind Popo derailed her train of thought, and she stopped to peer around him to see the cause of it. If this was a photographer, she was going to take her mallet and shove it right up their…

Who she saw instead was Simon, sprawled on the air-cushioned floor of the blue room. The distraction may have made her smile falter, but seeing what it meant transformed that smile into a toothy grin when she looked to Popo again.

He was looking at the monitor with a smile of his own. "Looks like they were busy winning while we were busy being dramatic, huh," he said with a small shake of his head.

"We only have a few seconds—here, put this back on," She replied, pushing Popo's parka into his chest. He fumbled with the coat for a second before he quickly donned it, just in time for the worker Mii to, once again, open the door and call out to them.

"Excuse me, ah…Ice Climbers, is it?" He asked timidly; either he was being polite, or he was shaken by Nana's outburst from a minute ago. Upon hearing their confirmation, the small frown flickered into a polite smile and he nodded. "Excellent, if you two could step onto the circle over there, you will be teleported back to your team."

Nana followed the Mii's pointing appendage, which indicated a softly glowing circle of white about six feet across. There must have been a quizzical look on her face when she looked to Popo again, because all he did was smile and shrug as he stepped into the circle and immediately vanished.

She couldn't help a small giggle as she followed suit, waving at the cheering crowd after appearing at Popo's side.

Of the many things Popo had missed from his and Nana's previous tournaments, room parties ranked rather high on the list.

Tonight, however, Popo just wasn't in the partying mood. After the broadcast closed out, he had showered, changed into some casual clothing, and wanted nothing more than to go straight home and probably entertain nightmares of getting impaled by Ridley's tail.

Unfortunately, through the power of his hesitance to immediately turn down the invitation, combined with Nana's pouting face (he really should carry a bag for that), he found himself agreeing to go.

The large, open layout of King Dedede's miniaturized castle proved itself the perfect venue for such a gathering. Long tables ran along two sides of the throne room, displaying all sorts of snacks, entrees, and bowls of punch, while coolers filled with ice and cans were spaced out along the rear wall. Numerous Waddle Dees threaded through the crowd of Smashers, tasked with keeping the provisions stocked or cleaning up the occasional litter. Upbeat music was heard coming from hidden speakers, but the volume was low enough for people to converse without straining their hearing. While the atmosphere didn't completely fix his malaise, Popo's spirits were at least slightly lifted.

After congratulating Isabelle and Incineroar on their first victory in Smash, Popo headed towards one of the coolers in the back and fished out one of the cans protruding from the ice cubes.

The black lettering on a white backdrop declared the drink to be 'Pale Talon Seltzer', and featured a clawed hand curling to make what looked like a series of crescent moon shapes. Text on the bottom third of the can boasted a black cherry flavor, which automatically made it look more appealing than the cans of 'CuatroCrazy' in the adjacent cooler.

With a small smile, Popo leaned against the wall, cracked open the can, and took a long pull from it.

Immediately, he grimaced at the foul taste and glared down at the can.

"Not what I expected," he muttered after swallowing the carbonated liquid.

Oh, the boasted flavor was there; it was just buried under a strong layer of bitterness. The tradeoff wasn't worth it, though; if Popo wasn't raised to waste food, he would have poured it out right then and there. Determined to finish it, Popo gingerly sipped the offending drink while he surveyed the crowd.

It didn't take him long to spot Nana, chatting animatedly with Daisy and Luigi while she sampled various snacks.

The sight immediately conjured a memory from about a year and a half ago: Murasat's feast hall was playing host to some sort of celebration, and everyone was having a good time of…whatever the festivities were about.

Everyone except for Popo, anyway, who had sulked while leaning against a support pillar; instead of enjoying himself, he was far too concerned with watching other boys approach Nana and her group of friends, and heaving a sigh of relief when they walked away either alone or with someone else. It was obvious that they were asking for her to join them in a dance, because that was what he was trying to work up the courage to do. In the end, while he couldn't go through with it, he had felt some relief at seeing that none of the other boys had succeeded either. Nana had chastised him the next day; according to her, he'd ignored a couple of girls that had approached him with similar intent.

He grinned and took another swig of his drink (the taste was growing on him) as he continued to reminisce on his stupidity. After finishing, he crumpled up the can and lobbed it towards a trash bin, sighing when his shot fell considerably short of its mark. He pushed off from the wall and walked over to pick up the can and properly dispose of it. On the way back to his previous spot, he stopped by the cooler from before and checked out the other flavors. After some internal deliberation, he selected a can that was optimistically labeled 'Tangerine' and leaned against the wall once more.

"OHMIGOSH! I FINALLY FOUND YOU, POPO!"

Popo jumped upon hearing the loud, feminine drawl; his unopened drink was jostled about in his hands as he struggled to keep from dropping it. He finally secured the can by catching it just before it hit the ground, and straightened with a sigh of relief.

Finally feeling composed, he looked to the source of the voice and it took all of his mental fortitude to not recoil.

Standing before Popo was the absolute personification of…pink. Pink hair, pink dress, pink shoes…in fact, the only things about this girl's attire that weren't pink were her blue and white candy-striped leggings and the daisy on the front of her dress. Her dark eyes seemed to sparkle as she closed the distance between them with a friendly smile on her face.

Settling against the wall beside him, that smile turned sheepish.

"Totes sorry for gushing like that," She tittered. "It's just that I've been trying to meet you ever since I heard about your return." She held out her hand. "My name's Primm."

Popo couldn't keep an eyebrow from rising, but he returned the smile and shook the offered appendage. Her grip was surprisingly strong, but considering she was in a Smashers-only gathering, it made sense.

"Primm, huh? You don't seem so formal to me." He released her hand with a hearty chuckle, which escalated into full-on laughter when he spotted a pouty glare cross her features for a fraction of a second. Taking advantage of the brief lull in conversation, he popped the tab on his drink.

…Only for the can to erupt, spraying his face, hair, and shirt with a burst of carbonated liquid.

Popo just stood there, locked in position; slightly hunched over, still holding onto the tab with his thumb and forefinger. He leveled a baleful glare at the can for a few seconds before straightening with a sigh. He looked around for a towel, a napkin—anything to clean up with. Nothing was close at hand, so he opted to wipe his face off with the driest part of his shirt sleeve.

"Ha, you totally deserved that!" Primm exclaimed. She had a lopsided, toothy grin across her face as she folded her arms.

"Yeah, I guess I did," He stuck his tongue out towards her before bringing the can to his lips; it didn't seem like he'd lost too much of the drink. The first few sips were all foam, but once he finally got to the actual liquid, he found the flavoring a bit more in line with what was advertised on the can. It still had that odd bitterness masking most of the taste, but he'll just have to deal with it.

A thought occurred, and he whipped his head to cast a curious glance towards Primm. "Wait, you said you were trying to meet us?"

"Mhm, yep," she chirped and beamed at him. "When we first got here, we had no idea what we were doing—we'd never fought before. They let us look through a library of match videos, and that's where I saw you."

She paused for a moment, looking to the ceiling with a sigh. "You're an inspiration, you know?"

He shook his head, taking another drink. "That's…what? I've never heard that before. Not when people talk about us."

"Oh, don't be so modest; I've seen the footage of your old matches. You've, like, taken Fox—Fox, of all people—down, by yourself, when he totally had a one-life lead over you!" Her eyes flashed, and she waved a hand in a slow arc. "And that's just a little bit of what I'd watched; I've seen so many highlights where you stood your ground and either won solo or at least had a good showing against the odds."

He didn't respond for a few moments, trying to cover up his blush with the action of chugging the rest of his drink. Somehow, it only worsened the burning in his cheeks.

He didn't like thinking about those fights, glorious as they might have looked to viewers. While Nana—or himself, if she was leading in the fight—was always brought back in to strike a victory pose right after, it just wasn't the same as being together when the final blow was struck.

Still, he thought with a pang of guilt, it was better than a loss.

He cleared his throat, suddenly realizing he'd been silent for a bit too long. Turning to face Primm, Popo was surprised that he was still holding her undivided attention. "Well, uh, you guys seemed to do well in the matches I'd seen, so I'm glad we…helped? Somehow?"

Primm giggled, waving her hand again. "Enough about that, though. Now that I finally have you here, why don't ya tell me about yourself? Computer files are like, sooooo boring compared to having the real deal right here, ya know?"

"I, uh…" His gaze fell; unfortunately the empty can in his grasp couldn't provide him advice on how best to handle this new request.

"We uh…um…climb mountains and…bring back stolen crops, I guess?" He grimaced as he brought his eyes back to meet Primm's. "It's really not all that exciting, if you compare it to the other stories I've heard—"

"Ugh, as if," Primm coolly interjected. She held out a palm towards him and shook her head. "You wanna talk about boring? The worst we ever have to deal with is the occasional swarm of wasps and maybe—maybe—a totally rude neighbor or two. You're saving your village; we just live in ours."

Popo's jaw dropped. In all of the times Nana and he had explained their roles back home, this was the first time he'd heard praise like this. Upon collecting himself, he couldn't help standing a little straighter then, the first time since the match that he'd felt a measure of pride.

"Well, I guess if you put it that way, I suppose you have a point." He took a deep breath in through his nose, and blinked. When did he get so congested?

"I know I have a point." She gave him a smile and a wink, before she suddenly looked annoyed. She reached into her pocket and withdrew a device that silently buzzed in her hand. She stared at its display, her eyes narrowing.

"Ugh," she scoffed. "I gotta go. Look, is there any time I could, like, see you again? I really wanna get to know you more."

"Oh, uh…I'm not sure. I think Nana and I are gonna be pretty busy for a bit," he scratched his cheek in thought and then smiled widely. "But I'm sure we could all hang out sometime!"

Primm's expression turned cheery after a few moments, and she nodded with a matching smile. "Sweet! I'll totally be in touch then. Bye-eeeeeee!"

Popo stared after her as she disappeared into the crowd, waving at him as she left. By the time he'd raised his hand to respond, she'd been gone for some time. Shrugging and sighing, he pushed off from the wall to start a stumbling search for the bathroom.

Why was he even stumbling? Maybe he was just tired…

Nana stalked her way through the crowd of partying Smashers, her face flushed with embarrassment.

Without realizing it, she had absolutely demolished nearly two platters' worth of snack foods. The tiny sandwiches of the first platter were addictive, but only slightly less than the crackers, meats, and cheeses of the other one. The moment she'd laid eyes on the food, a ravenous feeling—brought on from her earlier match, no doubt—overtook her. The only saving grace to the predicament was that she was able to maintain conversation and still have a semblance of manners—an ability that Popo certainly didn't possess.

Where did Popo run off to, anyway?

He'd split off from her…maybe a half-hour ago. She wasn't terribly concerned; the parties of tournaments past often saw them returning to their room at the old Mansion at wildly different hours. It wasn't an uncommon sight for one to tiptoe into the room while the other was long asleep, usually accompanied by early-morning birdsong. The situation never applied to just one of them; Popo was just as likely to stay out late as Nana was.

Judging by his demeanor, he was just as likely to duck out early, and try to sleep to avoid talking to her.

That would be…unacceptable.

Snapping her fingers, she altered course and made her way to the front entrance. Once there, she knelt down to address the two Waddle Dees on sentry duty.

"Hey, can you guys do me a huge favor?" At their nods, she smiled and continued. "If you see Popo, don't let him leave without me, okay?"

With (relatively) stern expressions, they straightened their posture and saluted her.

She giggled at their odd display of dutifulness and went back into the main chamber, feeling a weight lifted off her shoulders. She felt terrible for thinking that Popo would try to slip out, but he hadn't been in a proper state of mind since watching that terrible replay; he'd barely paid attention to the two matches that followed theirs, and mechanically applauded only when the others did at the end of a match.

A more troubling observation: Popo didn't stop touching his chest throughout the rest of the night. After the fifth or tenth time she'd seen this, she grabbed hold of his hand to stop him; if the cameras caught him looking in such a fugue state, Master Hand might reprimand them. Thankfully, he appeared to snap out of it. After a moment, he'd laced his fingers with hers and spent the rest of their time at the Arena rubbing his thumb over her own. She'd responded in kind, and they were soon engaged in a series of the slowest, gentlest thumb-wrestling matches ever performed. They'd kept their little games up all the way until it was time to separate so they could shower and change; it took some coaxing, but he eventually released her hand so they could take care of their tasks.

And now…now she couldn't find him.

The irony—or maybe it was just coincidental—was not lost on her.

Nana made her way to the snack tables on the other side of the room. The section she'd approached had a variety of desserts on display, which she was more than happy enough to sample from. With a grin, she sidled up to the table and snatched a few miniature cupcakes off of one of the platters and popped one into her waiting mouth.

"Ah, Nana, there you are."

The voice that drifted to her ears, over the din of the other partygoers, was a strange one. It was airy and sophisticated, but the cadence was rapid-fire, not unlike Isabelle's delivery. They also sounded quite young.

This could explain why they waited until she'd stuffed her face to talk to her…

"Yuf?" She mumbled around her mouthful of food. She swallowed the cupcake and turned to face whoever it was that was apparently looking for her.

Standing before her was a brown-haired boy about Popo's height—maybe a touch taller—clad in a sporty-looking yellow and black shirt, faded black (or maybe just dark gray) shorts, and blue shoes. There was a glint in his blue eyes as he approached with a small smirk on his lips.

"Hey, congratulations on your win tonight," he exclaimed, holding out a hand. "The name's Francis. But please, call me York."

"Oh, thank you." With slightly narrowed eyes, Nana regarded the offered hand for a second, before turning her attention back to see an expectant look on his face. With a small nod, she took his hand to give it a rough shake with her strongest hold. She was immediately rewarded with his eyes widening—as well as his smirk faltering—slightly. She couldn't say she wasn't impressed though; his grip was rather firm in spite of her surprise attack.

With an overly-sweet smile, she relinquished his hand and took what she hoped was an obvious step backwards.

To York's credit, he seemed to recover quickly enough. His smirk returned as he casually leaned against the snack table's edge.

"I gotta say," he began, unnecessarily smoothing out his hair with a light touch. "You looked very impressive out there, going after that hideous thing on your own."

"Yeah, I guess." She took a smaller bite of her next cupcake, and thought about a response as she chewed and swallowed the morsel. After a moment, she shrugged and continued. "Popo was down, and I needed to keep Ridley away from him. This isn't the first time one of us has had to do that for the other."

York's arms folded over his chest. "Fair point, fair point. Still, have you ever thought of maybe…going solo?"

Nana took in a deep breath and flared out her nostrils as she exhaled. Fists she didn't realize she was clenching had loosened up; she briefly looked in her left hand and frowned at the crushed cupcake therein before turning a sharpened glare towards York.

"Explain."

"You know, step out of your little friend's shadow. Don't you ever sit back and think that maybe he's holding—Hey, where're you going?"

"Away," she bit out. "From you."

Two steps were taken before Nana felt a hand grab hold of her upper arm, and she stopped immediately. York heaved a sigh of sigh of obvious relief.

"Good, good; I was afraid you wouldn't see reason and—"

"Take it off before I break it off." She hissed.

"Uh, beg your pardon?" He leaned back, but his hand was still holding strong.

"Let. Go," she snarled, whirling around and glaring straight into his eyes. A second passed before he nervously glanced to his hand, and his grip quickly released.

Her upper lip pulled back into a sneer, and she leveled her index finger straight at his face.

"Let me be perfectly clear on two things here. First off, I don't know how you do things where you're from, but you don't ever—EEEEVER—grab someone like that when they're trying to walk away!" She pulled her hand back to point towards the ceiling and raised a second finger. "Secondly, Popo and I are a team. We are partners; no one is in anyone else's 'shadow' or 'holding the other back'."

By now, she'd realized she was visibly trembling. She took a deep breath and felt herself calming down. She was definitely still wound up, but at least she no longer felt the urge to put this boy through the snack table. Several choice phrases were assembled on the tip of her tongue, but were dismissed when she abruptly spun on her heel and stormed off before he had a chance to say anything or pursue her.

Those closest to the altercation gave her a wide berth, but fortunately even with this many people in the room there was enough space that most didn't need to. Only a few heads had turned—most notably Wolf and a few Inklings, which Nana was fine with. Taking a quick moment to pop the squished remains of the cupcake into her mouth, she stepped to another section of the snack table and grabbed a napkin to wipe the crumbs, frosting, and sprinkles that were still stuck to her left hand.

This wasn't the first—and unlikely to be the last—time that someone had broached the subject of breaking up their team. The difference between this encounter and the others, though, was that the other times were done under a rather transparent veneer of complaints about their teamwork. That guy, on the other hand…

Sudden shouting from the back of the party room jolted her from her thoughts. Rather, it was who was shouting that drew her attention more than the noise itself. She picked out Snake and Captain Falcon easily enough, but hearing Popo's voice—considerably louder than the other two—piqued her curiosity.

By the time she got to the scene of the argument, there was a quite the crowd blocking her view, but she didn't need her eyes to tell her that Popo was uncharacteristically agitated about something, and that Snake and Falcon were trying to calm him down. After about a minute of hopping to try seeing over the crowd, she finally found an avenue of entry and shouldered her way between Olimar and Little Mac with a muttered apology.

"I still don't get it," Popo was saying from where he sat against the wall. "All of these coolers are fair game, but some of them are only fair game to grownups?"

"Yeah, that's about the short of it, little man," Falcon nodded with an openly-amused smile. He turned to Snake and muttered something. Snake looked into the cooler and pointed several times, before he turned back to Falcon and held up four fingers. Falcon let out a low whistle and turned back to Popo. "I think you had enough, though."

Popo folded his arms over his knees and plopped his forehead into them. "Why even put them out there if they're not meant for everyone? That's stupid…like a bird."

Nana frowned, taking in Popo's demeanor. What glimpses she could catch of his face showed a flushed complexion. More concerning was the way his words ran together. It was almost as if…

Oh no.

"Yeah, that was my bad," Falcon rubbed at the back of his neck, looking sheepish. "You kiddos never came back to this section last season, but I guess I'll label them from here on out." He took a step forward. "Why don't we get you some water, and maybe find Nana to take you home?"

"We're not little kids anymore," Popo scoffed. "What makes these drinks so 'adult' anyway? They just taste weird. You guys are weird!"

Snake was chuckling now, until he turned and locked eyes with Nana. With a small nod, he started to repeatedly cough and clear his throat to get Popo's attention. Popo, however, either ignored or didn't receive the signal and kept prattling on.

"For that matter, what cuts me off from being an adult here anyway?" He threw his hands up with widened eyes. "We've been climbing mountains since freaking forever. Routinely fought off bears and giant birds. Hell; back home, they consider Nana and me old enough to—"

"POPO," Nana squeaked, stamping her foot loudly.

Nana felt like her face could melt the entirety of Icicle Mountain; every eye in the immediate area was on her. The one silver lining was that Popo was also focused on her, his train of thought clearly halted. Taking a deep breath, she crossed the thankfully short distance between them with a stiff gait and posture.

"Oh, hi Nana," His face brightened with a dopey grin. "You having a good time tonight?"

"I, uh…" Nana gaped at him, and turned towards the crowd. Sensing their entertainment was cut short, they already began to disperse with a murmur of disappointment. She could barely make out Pit's voice, asking what Popo was about to say, but Palutena expertly diverted his attention towards one of the buffet tables.

Nana made a mental note to thank her later, and turned towards Snake and Falcon. Both looked apologetic but at least had the good graces to look her in the eyes.

Snake eventually broke the relative silence when he stepped forward, picking up one of the coolers.

"Sorry about that," he grumbled, throwing a pointed look towards Falcon. "Someone insisted no one else would really go through these, and decided not to have them guarded."

He then turned a look of scrutiny to Popo. "Anyway, he'll be alright in a few hours. Have him walk around for a bit, and make sure he takes water before going to bed."

Nodding her thanks, Nana turned back to Popo. "Alright then, I think it's time for us to leave." She knelt down beside him, draped one of his arms over her shoulder, and easily hoisted him to his feet. "C'mon now, up we go."

Popo simply laughed as he was lifted, and he leaned on her as they walked out of the castle. She made sure to thank the Waddle Dees at the entrance as they left, and was acutely aware of how his arm had slipped off of her shoulders and settled around her waist as they began the first of a couple circuits around the Residential District. Maybe the day where he did things like this in the open without the aid of alcohol would come soon.

At least this was more manageable than the seagull wine incident…

A long, proper shower and a change of clothes later, Popo found himself seated on the floor of their home's second-floor hallway, slumped against the closed bedroom door. He sighed and stared up at the ceiling. The back of his head thumped lightly against the wooden surface, and he closed his eyes.

"Hey, don't fall asleep out there!" Nana shouted from inside the bedroom. For someone who wanted him to open up and talk, she sure was taking her time in changing into her sleepwear.

Not that he could particularly blame her. They both had to think of what words they were going to say soon, and he found his already limited vernacular stunted even further. He wasn't feeling quite as ungainly as he'd been a couple hours earlier, but there was still an odd delay between his brain and his actions.

He'll never drink that Pale Talon crap again…

"Don't worry, I'm awake. I'm just…thinking?" He scratched his head for a second, and then shrugged to himself.

"You definitely shouldn't do that in your condition; you're not the fun kind of drunk, you know?"

He quickly lost the fight to keep the smile off of his face and snorted. "You don't like me when I'm chatty, uncoordinated, and easy to convince?"

"Hmm…maybe just that last part." She answered with a giggle, and his heart fluttered. "But I think I prefer to melt your stubbornness away with hard work and feminine wiles."

He blew out a raspberry, making sure it was loud enough for her to hear. "Is it really considered 'hard work' when you know me so well?"

She answered with a raspberry of her own. "Back home? It definitely took work; I had to hide everything under double-speak in case Harasen was nearby." He heard the sound of fabric rustling for a few seconds before she continued. "Here, though, I can afford to be a lot more direct with you. You can come in now, by the way."

"Right, thanks," Popo mumbled.

It took far more effort than he usually needed, but he got to his feet. He took a moment to make sure his legs were steady, and he opened the bedroom door.

Nana smiled up at him as he entered. Clad in a simple ensemble of a (rather short) pair of shorts and a T-shirt, she was seated on the edge of the bed, patting the mattress beside her and slowly kicking her feet. While a small part of his brain was wondering why it took her so long to pick out her pajamas, Popo was content to let his eyes track the back-and-forth movement of her legs.

This was, of course, up until Nana quite loudly cleared her throat, snapping him out of his reverie.

"You'll have plenty of time to ogle me later, Love," She said with a grin. After a moment, her expression sobered slightly and she eventually broke eye-contact to look at the floor. "I shouldn't have made you go to that party; we should have just come straight home and talked about…about…"

"Hey," he said in a gentle voice. "If it helps at all, I had a pretty good time." He had a smile waiting for her when she brought her eyes back to his. A few seconds passed in silence before he took up her earlier offer to sit beside her and settled an arm around her shoulders. "So let's talk about…well, that. Tell me what you saw."

Nana stared straight ahead for a minute, her jaw clenching and unclenching in silence. While she did this, she took hold of the hand of the arm he had around her and squeezed tightly. When she spoke, it was a low murmur.

"I saw what you eventually saw in that replay," The words came out slowly and hesitantly. "Ridley's tail went right through your body, and when he yanked it out, you just…tipped over and fell like a hewn tree."

To emphasize her point, she raised a finger to point towards the ceiling, before slowly lowering it to be parallel to the floor.

She started talking faster then, the words coming out in a deluge. "I-I didn't know what to do! You didn't get back up, and that…that thing needed to be driven off!" She released his hand to wrap her arms around his middle, turning his body enough to press her face against his chest. "I just threw everything I could think of at him, not once thinking that he was trying to lure me away…"

Popo returned her embrace, resting his chin on top of her head. After a while, he slowly rocked from side to side and absently inhaled the citrusy fragrance of her slightly damp hair.

She took several deep breaths and seemed to collect herself. "Then he knocks me away and suddenly you're there trying to catch me. I ended up in that scaffold with the lights, and I couldn't help just watching you to make sure you were actually okay. After he dragged you down to the ring, that's when I remembered we were still in a match."

Muffled, shaky laughter soon followed, punctuated by a wet sniffle. "It's silly, I know; I should have remembered that the…whatever that powers the matches…keeps us from being hurt permanently, but in that moment…I actually thought I'd lost you. I didn't even stop to think about how there was no mess or wound." She pulled back a bit, looking up at him with teary eyes and a wan smile. "Listen to me, prattling on when you were the one who got hurt. What happened?"

His throat briefly constricted, and he had to avert his eyes in order to stop feeding off of Nana's emotions.

"I didn't even know what it was that got me until I saw it afterwards," he finally admitted. "One second I'm getting ready to smack him, and the next I'm staring up at the lights with this intense pain in my chest. I just thought he hit me really hard, you know?"

He frowned, looking her in the eyes again. "After the pain faded, though, there was a…a coldness that I'd never felt before." He swallowed thickly to prevent a sudden lump that threatened to form in his throat. "Nana, we've stood on the windswept summit of Icicle Mountain—the highest point in the region—and it was a furnace compared to what I'd felt laying in the middle of that ring, even if it was just for just a couple seconds."

In the heavy silence that followed, they continued to hold each other. The only sound was their breathing and the whir of the air conditioning as it turned itself on. After a few minutes, Popo sighed and scooted them both up the bed a bit before he slowly laid down to rest his head on the pillow. Nana giggled and draped herself over him, adjusting her position so her ear was pressed to his chest.

In a mild state of confusion, he smiled and idly stroked her hair. "What're you doing?"

With a sleepy little smile, Nana looked up at him.

"Popo, do you remember what you said to me on the night you confessed?"

Popo quickly looked to the ceiling, biting his lip to look like he was thinking and to keep a smile from breaking out. Of course he remembered; it was the most important night of his life.

"Uh, was it 'stop laughing, I'm being serious here'?"

She giggled again. "No, you idiot, it was after that."

He feigned an innocent look, humming in thought and stroking his chin with his free hand. After dragging the act out for a bit, he once again turned his attention to Nana, who sported an impatient glare. Caught flat-footed, and her face mere inches from his own, he couldn't help breaking character. He poorly covered his grin with his hand before finally dropping the façade altogether.

"Alright, alright, I remember," He held his hands up in mock-surrender. "I believe I said 'Nana, my heart belongs to you'. Is that what you're looking for?"

Her face morphed into a pleased expression so fast, she may as well have been taking acting lessons from a Mii.

"Yep, that's the line I fell for!" She once again pressed her ear to his chest and closed her eyes with a long sigh. "And I'll sleep much better tonight, knowing that my most important possession is still beating, safe and warm."

Popo blushed and let his head fall back against the pillow, not having a thing to say in response. It was just as well though, because the last thing he wanted to do now was ruin the mood. Instead, he let his fingers become entangled in her hair, gently toying with the strands until sleep claimed him.

Author's Note: (05/02/2020) Hey, sorry about the time it took to update this thing! I swear I've been chipping at it since the last one was posted, but a combination of being pulled out of unemployment and Animal Crossing did a fine job of killing my free time. Thank you all for your patience, and the views/reviews that you've given me in my absence.

Admittedly, I don't know how to feel about the opening scene, and I really want to hear your thoughts or tips for future fight scenes. Again, If you feel the need to reach me in a more live setting, you can yell at me in the Super Smash Prose server on Discord (gDK48ua)!

EDIT FOR CLARIFICATION: Primm and York are two of the eight Villagers that will show up from time to time. I plan to use all eight, but not at once.