Tune4Toons: Just to disclaim, this is rated M for violence, PTSD, sexual undertones, language, and other suggestive content. Readers' discretion is advised.

Let's just say this monster of a story is the result of when certain people keep calling me out on not writing enough romance stories haha. (You guys know who you are.) This is set in Star Fox's comic!verse (with Fara Phoenix) mixed with elements from the 64 game!verse (so without Krystal). And for the sake of the story, the idea of Melee, Brawl, and any set rosters from past tournaments do not exist.

This is inspired by What If We Could? from The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo soundtrack: (youtube DOT com/watch?v=FlwCO15Gfec) So I recommend listening to that at the same time.

Here is my entry to DaZeLinker's Song!fic-Fest Contest as well as this being my second attempt in entering SSG3's Singing Smashers Contest. Blame Cam for getting me to take a second go at it and switch haha. (Lucky number two much? /shot) Special thanks again to MessengerOfDreams for all the help! Any leftover plot holes and such are solely my own. Feedback and concrit are always appreciated! Enjoy.

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I sometimes wonder if living means to live a lie.
If people wear masks that'd otherwise be considered invisible.

The clinking of champagne glasses mock me. Ambassadors in gowns and suits scatter around the room, but still they have me surrounded. Have me in their sights. And their every breath poisons the air.

They'll catch on eventually. Not a guess, a fact.

The peacock to my left glances away from my direction, but his tail feathers have eyes painted on them, eyes that keep staring at me. I also catch faint sparkles around the room where light bounces off small lenses—cameras in every corner. Some hidden, some carried by others. Gotta keep my guard up.

Swallow. Act natural, and maybe they won't notice.

Helps to have Falco standing beside me. It's rare to see him dressed in a tux and tie. He downs a few glasses of wine in less than five minutes as he grabs some more from passing waiters with a smile. How does Falco manage it? Pretending nothing's wrong. Pretending he can forget everything that's ever happened. Or maybe it's the wine that's been helping him. Worth a shot.

Someone taps my shoulder and my skins jumps. Had I not returned from a war, I would've stayed still. Turn around, see a canine suited in a red military uniform and hat.

"Congratulations, Mister McCloud." General Pepper's as formal as always. "Is it true you received an invitation for Smash Brothers?"

But the only sounds I hear coming out of his mouth are gunfire.

I still hear it sometimes. The cries of shot soldiers who fought beside me. The bombs that whistled from above my head. The voices of men who could've been in my place instead of me. Now I can't even stand still in a ballroom—feels as if each pair of eyes here are snipers watching my every movement.

But I nod. Did my best to block out the gunfire. To listen for the sounds of silverware clinking. To hear the crowds of living people whispering about me.

Sometimes I wonder what if I'd gone deaf during the war.
Why there are no visible wounds as proof of what I went through.

A weasel nudges Pepper and starts talking to him, swiping his attention away. But I catch the weasel also stealing a glimpse of me. Not just him, people around us have been looking at me for a while. Have to keep calm. Nothing's wrong. Besides, Falco's the one standing next to me still grabbing glasses from waiters and gulping down the wine like water.

"Slow down," I say. "People are staring at you."

He chuckles. "Who cares? Best take what you can get."

Still don't get how he can do that. Wish I can do the same.

But someone's arm soon wraps around mine, and I turn to see a fennec in a skin-tight dress smiling. Fara, my girlfriend, a beautiful sight to see. The sparkling red dress suits her copper fur. But I catch the stares of the paparazzi, so I take her arm and play along. Falco turns and sees her beside me. Then he tells me he's gonna go grab some more drinks before walking away.

They won't find anything on me; I'm as normal as people expect me to be.

Or so I tell myself.

"Do you love me?" Her whisper tickles my ear, but the noise makes it hard to hear her.

I don't bother to answer as I smile and wave at the screaming line of fans with posters, cell phones, and cameras flashing at my face. Like walking through a corridor of eyes along a floor lined with a red carpet. Didn't like it, but I head towards the metal hull of the Great Fox at the end of the aisle, arms loosely locked with Fara's next to me. Her velvet dress only makes her look more elegant in her step compared to the battered, green jumpsuit and dusty coat I have on.

An old hare stands by the entrance of the ship—Peppy. I know why he's there. Why wouldn't he be? He raised me in my father's place and now watches as I represent Lylat in the most glorified tournament in the galaxy. I already know what he'll say before he says it.

"Your father would've been so proud, junior."
Continue his legacy, junior.

The same phrase. From my mentor, my fans, my commanders.
Couldn't bear to disappoint them, but I don't know if I already have.

Letting go of Fara, I turn to face both her and the crowd. Give her a kiss on the cheek, and I hear all my fans swoon. As far as the public know, she and I are in a relationship.

"Do you love him?" she says again before I go.

I step into the ship without answering.

The moment we enter my apartment, Fara rips off her heels and tosses them aside. "Hate walking in those. And the press, when will they let up?"

I chuckle a bit. "They've been like that since Falco and I got back. Better get used to it."

We drop onto the couch. Fara sits beside me, head resting on my shoulder. She sighs. "What was it like being in war?"

"Weren't you a part of it too?"

She smiles. "I was a flight instructor, not a part of the main force, remember?" Then she curls up beside me. "So what was it like at the front lines? Scary as it sounds?"

It doesn't take long to remember. Sounds of gunshots everywhere fill my head, screams of wounded soldiers piercing my ears. Soon I'm back on the field, the rough earth below my feet, rifle in hand. "It's nothing like being in an Arwing. At least in an aircraft, you get some distance." Closing my eyes, I paint over the memory with black. Open them up again, and I'm looking at Fara.

"What about Falco?" Her fingers glide over my left hand. "Wasn't he with you the whole time?"

I nod, smiling. "Yeah, he was."

I arrive at the reception desk a quarter past noon in Lylat time and notice the majority of the people are humans. Heard about them from a pamphlet given to me before I got here. Doesn't take too long for me to start attracting stares from those passing by.

As if I didn't get enough of that from home.

"Since when do they let faggots into the tournament?"

I hear a voice behind me. Turn around, see a towering figure in pitch-black armour hovering over a human in a blue tunic. The next thing to catch my eye though is the tiara on top of the human's matching blue hair.

The dark-armoured figure smirks. "I knew the executives were penny-pinchers, but I didn't expect them to go as far as inviting pansies to fight."

Walk over to them and I tap the tower's shoulder. He turns to face me and only then does it occur to me that he's twice my size.

"Cut the guy some slack," I say. "Save it for the arena."

"So you're gonna defend the pansy, huh? I wouldn't be surprised if you happen to be one—"

"I have a girlfriend." It slips before I even thought about it. Surprises me sometimes how many times I've had to use that as my defence, but at least for now, it still works.

By then, a few spectators start watching us from afar, some with cameras. I'm left wishing none are from Lylat. The dark-armoured figure glances at them before looking back at both me and the blue human. He scoffs. "Suit yourself. See you in the arena, faggots."

The dark-armoured figure walks away, smirking as his cape trails behind him. The spectators soon start chattering amongst themselves and begin to scatter. One stands out from the crowd, a peacock with a camera. He takes a picture of me from a distance before leaving as well. Best guess is he's from Lylat. Great.

I turn back to the human in the tiara. "Hey, you okay?"

He chuckles. "I have a wife." Then he gets up and leaves.

Sit at a table in a diner by myself. People outside the windows either wave and squeal or flash their cameras out at me. Inside the restaurant too, others glance at me before whispering amongst themselves. Without looking I can feel their stares everywhere. Didn't help that I was eating by myself either.

The diner door bell rings and Falco enters. Beside him is a pink feline attached to his arm. The attention from the public shifts from me to them, and for a moment I can breathe.

But people's eyes start switching between me, him, and her.
First him and her.
Then back at me.

Soon the whispers begin again, and the only word I can make out from it all is girlfriend.

Falco notices me and takes a seat at my table along with the feline he was with. He starts talking, introducing her. Didn't pay attention much though. Feels strange seeing Falco with someone else, so I decide to pretend it's just us two.

"Fox? You listening?" Falco starts snapping his fingers in front of my face and my head shoots up. He sighs, rubbing the feathers on his head, turning to the feline beside him. "Hey, s'okay if ya get some drinks for us?"

The feline nods before leaving us alone. Finally. I let out a sigh of relief, but I can't escape Falco's stare.

"What's wrong, man?" Falco says. "Other people getting to ya again?"

Never understood how quickly he can adjust back to the normal life. Like he never went through the war to begin with.

"Why you here by yourself, anyway?" he continues. "People are bound to recognize ya. Picking a window seat doesn't help your case either."

He starts laughing and I can't help but chuckle along. I glance over to the feline in the line-up by the cashier when an idea comes to me.

"I'm thinking about calling up Fara to go out to dinner or something. What do you think?"

"Uh-huh…" His voice softens, eyes widening as if staring past me. Seconds pass and I almost call for his attention again, but he clenches his eyes shut, takes a breath, and continues, "Maybe take her to one of those fancy restaurants by the boulevard. She'd like that."

"But aren't those places expensive?"

"Women tend to like expensive stuff and all that other romantic shit."

Takes me a few moments for his words to sink in. When I don't answer, it takes a few more seconds of him reading my face before he gasps.

"…No way! Fara Phoenix, man. Not even the boulevard for her?"

"Not all of us happen to like those places."

For some reason, that makes Falco squawk out the biggest laugh I've heard since before the war, even catching other people's attention.

"What the hell, Falco? It's not even that funny!"

"But I had you pegged for," he continues, half gasping, half cackling, "a romantic for years! How'd a credit counter like you catch a looker like Fara Phoenix?"

There's no alcohol on him, so maybe he has gone mad from the war after all. I let him keep laughing and it takes him a full minute to stop. Even a few people outside the diner shoot a look at us through the window, but this time, I don't mind the stares.

Falco keeps a grin stitched to his beak. "Anyway, don't forget I'm your wingman. These are only suggestions—just sayin'."

I chuckle. "Thanks."

And for a moment, everything feels normal again.

Then Falco's feline comes back with our drinks and the feeling ends.

The platform below my feet raises me to the surface of the stage where sunlight pierces my eyes and a gust rips through me. The tournament starts the moment I see my opponent.

From the opposite side of the stage, a human child in a baseball cap steps forward, and the thought of that dark armoured man from earlier comes to me. I can hear him now. "First pansies, now pipsqueaks?"

At least I'm not the only strange person here.

In the stands, I hear Falco hooting and cheering. Eyes close. Then the arena disappears and cement walls surround me. In front, a short soldier rushes up at me while swinging a knife around, forcing me to step back with each swing. I grab his hand and twist it only to have him trip me with a low-leg sweep. Clutch his arm, lock in place, and I flip him over before tossing him several feet away. No sooner, he hurls a spark of electricity in my direction. It blows up in my face on contact and sends me flying backwards. Hit the ground, body aches and I groan. Push myself back up and soldier comes charging straight for me. Too bad he misses when I sidestep out of his way.

There are a few basic tricks for martial arts that they teach in the military. Vital strike points that guarantee a knock-out or a kill.

Bring down a hammer punch to the back of his neck. Sends a shock throughout the enemy's body and knocks them down on the ground. The soldier face-plants onto the floor and groans. I'm about to kick him when he ropes a yoyo around my leg. He yanks me down, making me fall on my back with a sharp thud. I twist my leg, kicking the yoyo out of his hands. Then I'm back up on my feet.

Place a swift kick in his leg at the sensitive area above the knee, and he'll scream from the pain. The soldier clutches his leg, giving me the chance to unwrap the string that's around mine.

Thrust a solid punch below the abdomen and he'll stumble back from the force. He clutches his stomach, but quickly launches a fireball at my face. Flames scorch my coat, sweat rolling off my fur near the heat. Once he's rushing towards me again, I throw another punch into his stomach.

Swipe a clean jab at his neck below his jaw and his air supply will get cut off. One quick hit and the soldier drops to his knees, clutching his neck and choking out coughs. Then he collapses where he stands.

I soon hear footsteps race from behind. Turn around and I spot Falco running up towards me. Following him is another soldier with a rifle aimed for his head.

No hesitations. Hold up my gun at him.

Bang, lights flash in my face. My vision begins to clear, Falco nowhere to be seen. Glance to my left. A peacock has a camera held up with the perfect view of me and a kid laying face down a few feet away. As reality sinks back into my head, for a second it feels like someone had just stabbed me in the chest. The kid's unconscious, the crowd's dead-silent, and some paramedics rush up to the stage to carry him out.

Takes a few seconds for the whispers of child assault to spread.

Takes another few seconds to realise I just won the round and that the peacock has a photo of me going overboard.

A few guys and I in the poker room gather around a cards table with a newspaper flipped open in the middle. A photo of the tiara man talking with someone I haven't met yet—another human, but with spiky blue hair and a bigger build—is featured centre page. Newspapers are so old-fashion compared to what Lylat has, but press people still spawn from the same hell.

The bold heading at the top sounds cheesy enough to make me puke. "Blue For Two - Relationships Brew." That human has a wife, I want to say, but the ones behind me roar with laughter. They flip to the second page, and there's my photo with the words "Child Assault" printed in thick bold font above it. The laughter behind me grows even louder and someone pats my back with heavy thuds. Flipping through the rest of the pages, this morning's confrontation is luckily nowhere to be seen, but my stomach only churns worse than earlier.

On the side, I spot Falco leaning against the wall drinking out of the beer can in his hand, so I join him there.

"And the press guys are at it again, aren't they?" he says. "'Twisting everything they see to make things interesting,' as you always say." He gulps down another round of beer. "Cute photo today, by the way. No wonder you get so freaked out when they're around."

"No, I don't."

"Then smile." He points behind me. "Say hi to the camera."

Instinct snaps and I turn my head around. Falco starts laughing, grinning wide.

"See? What did I tell ya? Admit it, you're paranoid."

"Screw off! You don't know how bad they can get."

"But I thought you liked the attention, what with ya being the 'Greatest Star Fox Leader in Lylat'." He laughs again, poking at my shoulder like I'm a little kit.

I stick my nose up at him. "They will rip you apart if you aren't careful."

"Then I'll be careful, don't worry—"

His pupils dilate as if he sees something behind me, but turn and there's nothing there again. "Falco?" I snap my fingers, and he turns his attention back to me. "Quit joking around. That's not funny."

He doesn't answer. Only stares past me.

I let out a shaky chuckle. "Hey, something the matter?"

Falco clutches his head. "There's—" But he pauses. Takes a breath. "Nah. Just thought I saw something, it's cool."

My muscles relax, but soon I realise how close Falco's face from mine, and it takes him a few seconds to notice it too. He slinks back a bit, the air soon feeling a little heavier than I'd like. He runs his fingers through the feathers of his head, sighing.

"I'll catch ya later, okay?"

And he leaves me alone in a poker room of laughing humans.

"Where's that bird you're always with, McCloud?" the pug in the bar stool beside me says. His uniform I recognise—he was from the same platoon I fought with. "The blue one, what's his name… Either way, you guys seem cute together."

"I think the war's gotten to your head, soldier."

To our right, I spot the ceiling lights reflect off a camera lens. Take a careful look. Catch a shadow man staring at me from the corner of the bar. Even here, can't believe the press are everywhere.

"Don't blame me," the pug continues. "You guys look like the ones who are dating. Best make sure the rest of the army don't find out. You know how some of those knuckleheads can get."

From the entrance, I see Fara walk into the bar and she waves. The pug raises an eyebrow, so I introduce her when she comes.

"My girlfriend."

"Oh!" Eyes wide, he chuckles. "Don't let me keep you then, but say hi to your blue bird friend for me. Chuck from the fourth brigade, you can tell him."

"Sure thing…" But my attention's still turned to the cameraman in the corner of the bar.

Fara notices where I'm looking and sees him too, so she pulls me in for a kiss. His camera flashes. She whispers in my ear: "For safe measures."

Then she pulls me up to my feet and we leave.

"That one. Robot blondie's a contender. Watch out for her."

Falco keeps pulling out brochures from a rack in the waiting room and handing them to me. Each one has a picture of a fighter from the competition at the front. Soon enough I spot mine and Falco's within the pile. Take them out. Flip the page. Inside, they're scrawled with statistics and our move sets in several languages, one that includes Lylat's standard speech.

"Don't you find it weird how they happen to know everything before we all even fought our first rounds?" I say.

"Quit worryin' so much, McCloud." Falco pulls out more brochures and flips through them. "Besides, everyone else's gonna be doing the same thing when they see these. Might as well use what's here to our advantage."

"But still—"

"Hey, is that ours? Lemme see them. What do they say?"

He starts reaching over my shoulders, so I decide to hold them far away from his reach. Feel his weight on my back, but I laugh as I watch him try to climb over me to grab them.

"Come on, I just wanna see!"

We stumble to the floor and I keep laughing as he continues reaching, but soon he stretches his wing out over my head and finally manages a touch. Only then does it occur to me that he's at least half a foot taller.

But I spot something flash from the corner of the room. Turn, and Falco's flipped off my back and crashes to the floor before I can see what it was. Look back at him, he groans.

"What the hell?" Falco dusts off his clothes. "Could've at least warned me before dropping me off like that."

"Didn't you see that just now?"

"See what?"

"There was a—"

The PA speaker in the ceiling goes off before I finish. "Entrant four, please head to the stage now. Your preliminary round will begin in five minutes."

The door opens and a bright white light makes it hard to see what's out there, but we hear the faint cry of cheers from the crowd outside.

"Time to kick ass," Falco says as he stands up, half-scoffing half-chuckling. He ambles over to the door, waving without looking back at me. "I'll see you later, man. Wish me luck."

And I watch as he stuffs his hands in his pocket before walking into the light.

"So you're off then?" Falco stands in front of me and my Arwing, arms crossed.

I brush past him without saying a word.

"Don't tell me you're stupid enough to going alone."

Sometimes I wish Falco knew when to keep his beak shut. I resist the urge to grab his throat and shut it for him.

He pulls my shoulder and forces me to face him. "I'm going with ya."

"No you're not. You're staying here with Peppy and Slippy."

"There's no way I'm letting ya go yourself!"

"Look, I'm the leader! You follow my orders—!"

But he punches me, and I stumble back, feeling my cheek throb where Falco struck. He glares. "Get your head straight and fuck being the leader. Do ya think I'm so stupid as to let you fight a war yourself?"

"Better than risking everyone else here to fight it."

"Like it or not, I'm coming with ya."

"And what makes you think I'm letting you do that?"

He smirks. "Someone's gotta be there to save your ass after all."

I open my mouth, but he runs off his Arwing before I can say anything and takes off, and I'm left having to catch up to him before he gets himself killed.

First thing I see is a wasteland stretching in front of me as I peek out from a trench hole. Dust kicks up and covers hundreds of bodies. Shouts of the soldiers dull the sounds of rippling explosions.

For some reason, I'm supposed to be looking for Falco. He went missing. Can't find him anywhere.

Jump out from the trench and I charge forward.
Enemies gun down the soldiers following beside me.
Start shouting his name. Nowhere to be seen.
Bombs continue dropping around me.
Call out his name again.
Footsteps behind me. Turn around.
An enemy soldier strikes my head with the back of his rifle.

Then my eyes snap open and I find myself sprawled along the floor of my hotel room waken by a high-pitch ringing sound. Bed's a couple of feet away, back aches with a dull soreness, and the room spins around me in a blurry swirl of shadows. As sweat roll off the fur on my forehead, the first instinct to pop up in my mind is to find Falco and make sure he's okay.

Turn my head, and I spot a figure by the door, but the dizziness makes it hard to tell who it is.
Eyes slowly droop and I hear a distorted voice call out my name. Throat feels hoarse and dry. Can't call back.

The figure runs up to me and clutches me up to his chest. Can't quite focus on his voice. Shh, stop screaming. But I don't wanna go home. Don't want anyone to see me like this. Stop, just stop. People will probably tell me that I'm going crazy. S'okay, s'okay. How fantastic would that be?

His heat builds up on mine and the warmth blanks out my head. My vision fades to black as the ringing in my ear dulls.

Fara pushes me onto the couch before I know what's going on, straddling my lap. I'm locked in place, nowhere to go.

"What are you doing?" But she doesn't hear me.

She takes off her coat without a word and tosses it aside. Her muzzle's on my neck, and I can't help but lean back.

"Fara, stop. What are you—"

She brings her face close to mine. "I thought we were supposed to be dating."

"Wait—" She pulls me into a forceful kiss before I can say anything else. My coat's ripped off, her hands now all over my chest. She pushes me deeper into the couch as she fumbles around with my shirt.

Mind's a complete blank. Heart pounds in my ears. Try desperately to breathe, but I can't even complete a full thought. She throws my shirt over my shoulders and I'm left bare-chested with nowhere to hide.

Blink, and I see myself back on the battlefield. Ears start to ring as it dulls the sound of shouts and gunfire. A lizard in enemy uniform straddles me down on the ground and grabs my throat. Lungs fill with smoke and burning flesh. Get dizzy as intense heat sinks into my head. Choke out blood. Ears still ringing.

I push the lizard off me when the memory flashes back to reality. Fara flies back to the other end of the couch and I realise what just happened. My chest heaves up and down, trying to catch my breath and slow my heartbeat.

She stiffens as she sits back up, gaze locking with mine. In her eyes, I can see her thoughts processing. She gives me nothing more than a sad smile.

"Why'd you ask me to date you?"

Catch myself looking down at my hands.
No answer.

"Do you love me?"

I take another moment to think and we're left with silence.

A few more seconds later, she grabs her coat off the floor, slips on her heels, and storms out the door, slamming it shut behind her.

The echoes of footsteps bounce off the concrete walls of the hallway between the arena and its exit. Falco and I got through all the preliminary rounds without a problem, though I lost my last match. Now I wait for him to return from his semifinal round. At the end of the hall, the shadow of a figure walks out of the light and I see a slumped blue bird drag his fist across the wall.

I walk to him. "How'd it go?"

"How'd ya think it went? I lost! To that asshole of all people!"

Falco punches the wall, but I try to brush it off. "Don't worry about it. It's just a match and you got pretty far anyway—"

"You don't get it! He's gonna be calling us all faggots and act all high and mighty like he has a trump hidden up his ass!"

"Falco!"

He tenses up.

Inhale. Exhale. "It's over now," I say. "Relax."

He turns his gaze to the side, his wings clenching to fists again. Try to get him to look at me, but still he glances away.

My voice softens. "Hey, if it helps, I lost my match too."

I place a hand on his shoulder, but he slaps it away. He finally speaks— "Leave me alone, will ya?" —but not words I want to hear.

He doesn't bother looking at me before he walks away, heading down the hall. A part of me wants to run after him, but another tells me to stay where I am.

A new set of footsteps catch my attention. Appearing out of the same light from the arena is the dark-armoured man I met from before. He walks up to me and smirks.

"Nice photo in the paper today." He chuckles. "Bet your girlfriend will think you two look cute together."

He continues laughing as he walks away, following the path Falco took out the arena.

Minutes pass after he's long gone and I'm still left standing in the hallway by myself. My feet won't move. Head gets dizzy. Lungs heave. Faint echoes of gunfire and shouting ricochet off the concrete walls around me.

Close my eyes. Count to three.
The ground stays solid beneath my feet.

Soon enough the sounds stop and I'm left alone in the hall again.

Semifinals breeze by and the finals arrive just as fast. Many of us go to the poker room to watch the match. Funny how things work out sometimes—the final match is between the tiara man versus the dark-armoured figure, but I don't watch the whole thing. I already placed my bets earlier.

Some human in a mask and jumpsuit starts handing out beers to all the guys in the room, even one to Falco and me. "On the house!" he shouts as cans get passed around. Other guys behind me start gathering around the cards table to begin a game.

But Falco's been mumbling to himself on the side away from the crowd as he drinks from his beer can. Nudge him, and he snaps out of his daze.

Takes a bit for him to shake out of his own head.

"Fox, can we talk?" His voice's quieter than usual.

"What's wrong?"

"Sorry about earlier." He sighs. "Don't know what got to me. I—" For the first time, I hear a catch in his throat. I see him struggle as he sucks in a breath, trying to find the words he wants to say.

"Falco, what's going on?"

He still tries to spit out something, but instead curses under his breath and stutters. "A-actually, never mind. I gotta go." And he storms out of the room.

Someone taps me. Turn, and the masked human's chugging his beer beside me, his free hand resting on my shoulders. "What's wrong with bird man?"

"I'll go see what's up," I say. "Don't start the game without me."

I leave before he says anything else and start travelling through the hotel, up the elevators to the second floor and down the halls over to where our bedrooms are.

Only one door's open a crack, so I peek inside. End up finding Falco sitting on his bed with empty beer can crushed in his wing. Lean against the door. Then knock, and his head shoots up before he turns around to see me.

"Falco, talk to me. What's wrong?"

He lets out an exasperated sigh. "I just need some time to think, that's it."

I chuckle. "Doesn't sound like you at all. Still pissed at your loss?"

He turns away. "Nah, nothing to do with that. Just go, leave me alone." I try to say something, but he cuts me off. "Actually, never mind. I'm heading back to the poker room."

Before he can walk out the door, I stand in his path and block it off. He grits his teeth, but I don't budge.

"Look, I don't wanna deal with any of your bullshit right now, okay?"

"My bullshit? What about you and your crap? Who cares if you lost? Why you acting so weird? People are—"

"Noticing? Good, they better be."

I shove him. "What the hell? Don't you care at all? People think you're crazy enough as it is!"

"Oh, don't worry. I'll try to not be an embarrassment to the team or to you or to any of that crap. Happy? 'Cause I'm done!"

He turns, but I force his shoulder back around so he faces me. "An embarrassment? Is that what you think this is all about?"

"Don't make me laugh." He shoves me— "You make sure to keep Pepper happy." —again— "You got yourself a girlfriend to keep happy." —and again— "And you're Star Fox's leader, keeping everybody else happy too."

—until I'm backed up against the wall. Soon it occurs to me how much larger he is compared to me.

"Why have me ruin all that for ya?" he continues. "I might as well go back home right now and not cause any more trouble."

"No, you're staying here and that's an order! I'm the leader, remember? Besides, you're my best friend! I'm supposed to be looking out for you!"

He scoffs. "What are ya, a fucking idiot? Did you ever think that maybe," he crushes me against the wall, wings pinning my arms down till I can't move, "I never wanted you to? That I can take care of myself just fine? Remember the war? Remember the trenches? Remember how I saved your ass?"

"Remember how I saved yours?"

Our eyes lock with the other, and his heavy breaths caress my muzzle as I realise how close we are. With each passing second, his breathing slows and his glare softens. And I can see us back in the battlefield when we were stuck in this position in the trenches when there was barely any room to take cover from the gunfire.

By now his muscles relax, yet I still find myself panicking until I realise no soldiers are around to kill us. The bags under his eyes make him look even more tired than five minutes ago. Pupils thin into saucers as if he's possessed. Then the distance between us slowly closes. His lips soon touch mine and they taste like the beer from earlier. Neither of us move for a while. My mind blanks—but the war zone returns—though I'm not sure what to think.

Look up. Bombs drop from the sky. Look down. Ground rumbles beneath me. Head gets dizzy. Bullets flying. Head is pounding. Vision sinking.

Falco pulls back as he senses my confusion. Stumbles a bit and starts mumbling apologies to me, though it's hard to hear what he's saying. But something snaps inside me, and I grab his collar, pulling him into a rough kiss, causing him to tremble. No sooner than that he kisses back as he crushes me against the wall. His chest presses on mine and I can feel his heart racing—though it might be mine.

Smoke fills the air. Hard to breathe. Soldiers everywhere. Screaming everywhere.

My hands slip under his shirt as my fingers run across the feathers on his back, pulling him closer. One of his wings wrap around my waist and the other mounts against the wall. I push him back until he trips onto the bed. He pulls me down and I'm straddled on top of him, my hands clutching the sheets. Soon his fingers start fumbling with the zipper on my jacket.

There's someone there. Middle of the field. Bombs drop from above. Force my feet to run. To move. Move! MOVE—

Someone's chatter and footsteps snap me out of my trance. By the door, two shadows walk past as their voices grow, and I push myself off of Falco. The shadows pause—we stay quiet—before they walk away. Look down, and there lay Falco under me with a frozen face.

I choke under my own breath, and soon I find myself on autopilot. Climb off the bed. Walk away toward the door. Slam it shut behind me.

My breathing gets shaky. Mind goes numb.
Back presses against the door as I slide down to my knees.

But all I can picture is that blank look he had on his face.

Calm down. Stay calm.
Yet I can't process what just happened in my head.

Now I'm frozen in a fetal position staring at the wall at the opposite end of me.

Thank goodness no one saw us.

"What are ya, a fucking idiot?"

But I don't know what to convince myself of anymore.

"So what do you want to do once you're out of here?" I ask Falco while I'm fixing up the buttons of my flight school uniform.

Falco stares at me from the mirror as he's chewing on some gum. Feels weird seeing him in a graduation hat, let alone in his entire uniform without a missing coat or a button. "Dunno," he says. "Probably fly out of Corneria. Maybe find a girl and settle down for once someday."

Which is never, I feel like saying but don't. So I chuckle to myself only to get a weird look from him.

"What 'bout you, man? Got any plans now since we're graduating?"

Takes me a while to think about it while fixing the last of my uniform's buttons, but I can feel his stare digging in without even needing to look in the mirror.

"Find a girl?" he asks.

Head shakes.

"Travel?"

Shrugs.

"Do what your old man did?"

I scoff. "Why does everyone think I'm going to do that?"

"Why not? I mean you are the son of legendary McCloud Senior, yet you got no plans whatsoever? Figured you'd at least have something in mind, like starting up Star Fox or somethin'."

I stop fiddling with the buttons on my coat as his words sink in. "Maybe we could start up Star Fox again." Turn to look at him. "How about it? You and me. Get us a small crew, do a few odd jobs here and there."

"You serious? You were just against it a second ago."

"Who said I was? But think about it. We're gonna be out of flight school soon and I doubt being in the army's the only thing you want to do—if you even wanna do that. We can get our names out there, get the respect of the people, and bask in the glory of it all." Already, that signature smirk returns on his face, and I smile. "What do you say? Partners?"

He chuckles. "Sure." Then he stretches a wing out towards me. "I'll take ya on that, McCloud."

"Then it's a deal." And we shake on it. "Welcome to the team, Lombardi."

The day finally comes when the tournament ends and everyone has to go home. I step through sliding glass doors only to be greeted by a ship almost as big as the hotel itself—the Great Fox; it hums a hello as it sits in the middle of the grass field. Fara stands by its hull next to an open door ready to take me home. Falco walks ahead of me as he steps inside the ship.

Soon I'm in front of Fara, but the words I had planned to say escape me. She's looking down at the ground, rubbing her arm.

Her mouth opens first, but no sounds come out of her either, though I know she has every right to be mad.

"I'm sorry—"

She holds a hand up to stop me. For once, my guard lowers, and I'm thankful no cameras are around.

"Do you love me?" she asks.

Takes me a while to think and answer. In the public's eyes:

"Of course I do."

But all she gives me is a sad smile and nod. Together we walk to the entrance and get in the ship where soon Peppy and Slippy greet us and congratulate me for how well I did in the tournament.

Inside I find Falco sitting on a couch in the lounge room by himself, wings resting on his knees with his face buried in his hands. Next to me, Fara rests her hand on my shoulder. I try to say something, but she hushes me before I can. Then she walks away and leaves me there alone.

When I walk in towards Falco, I take a seat on the couch across from him. The prolonging silence hits me like a bullet to the chest. Yet for once, I don't hear the gunfire anymore. Just me and him, and the both of us breathing.

"I'm sorry," I finally say. His eyes peek out at me through his fingers. He doesn't say anything.

Stand up. Turn to leave—

"Wait," he says. I stop and he looks up at me. "Just stay for a bit. Please."

I sit down beside him as he turns his gaze towards the couch in front of him. He doesn't do anything though, so I rest my head on his shoulder. We stay like that for a while in silence.

All we have to do now is wait for a camera and see what happens.