Fan Fiction / Fire Emblem Fan Fiction / Fire Emblem Fan Fiction / Pokemon Fan Fiction / Pokemon Fan Fiction ❯ Empty Hand Loser ❯ under a grey sky II ( Chapter 7 )

Disclaimer: The following contains characters and concepts that are NOT the property of the author. They are the intellectual property of Nintendo, HAL Laboratories and their associates. The author has received NO monetary benefit from this piece of shit.

 

Chapter 6

 

“Stop.”

 

The cards had come randomized, but shuffling was a ritual I usually followed for the meditative quality of it.  I dealt them out.

 

Two cards face-down, then a three of clubs for her, and a ten of diamonds for me.

 

“Hit.”

 

A ten of hearts landed on top of her stack.

 

“Stay.”

 

I considered her thirteen.  Beneath the ten of diamonds, I had a five of hearts.  Fifteen to thirteen plus the one card face-down.

 

I drew a card: five of diamonds.  Lucky, I thought almost with remorse.

 

We showed our hands.  Beneath her stack, she had a seven of spades.  Twenty-one to twenty.

 

I had lost.

 

I exhaled the breath I didn't know I was holding.  I had lost.  It didn't hurt like I had expected it to.  I had just lost everything.  It didn't hurt.

 

Now, was I supposed to be happy, or sad?

 

“Congratulations.”  My voice sounded monotone.

 

“So…that's it?” Crazy said.  Her cartoonish, round, blue eyes stared at me.  Mild disbelief.  And uncertainty.  “Your house is mine?”

 

“Yeah.”  My breath was short; my words, clipped.  Why couldn't I feel anything?  Shouldn't I feel something?  I didn't.

 

“And I can do whatever I want with it…?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Okay.”  Suddenly, those eyes narrowed.  “Then I give it back to you.”

 

“What?!”

 

“It's a gift.”

 

“No,” I said dully.  “No.  I don't accept.”

 

“You can't return a gift.”

 

“You can't back out of a bet,” I countered.

 

“I'm not backing out, I'm giving it to you!”  Crazy jumped to her feet and slammed both hands palms-down against the table.  The noise was so sudden I almost jerked.  Pichu startled and shrank back, closer to me.  “The house is yours!  It's your responsibility!”

 

“Not anymore.”

 

“No!”

 

I stared at her.  “What's wrong with you, anyway?  I thought you always wanted--”

 

“Not like this.  Not over some stupid game of chance.”

 

“Gambling is a skill,” I offered.

 

But she shook her head.  “Don't get me wrong.  I will take over your house someday.  But I want it to mean something.”

 

I laughed.  I couldn't help it.  “Godd*mmit.  It doesn't f*cking matter.  Just take it.  You won.”

 

“No.”  Her voice came out low, forced and brutal.  “Believe me, I'm going to destroy you.  But I'm going to do it when you're at your best, not your worst.  Otherwise it's meaningless!  You don't even care!”

 

Silence settled as I took a few breaths, planned my next move.  “Crazy,” I said.  “I'm not going to pretend to care just so a victory can have more meaning to you.”

 

“You *sshole!”  She sounded like she meant it.  She closed her eyes.  After a pause, they opened, and her voice softened.  “What happened to you?  You used to be…I don't know.  You used to be something else.”

 

“It doesn't matter what I used to be.”

 

“I used to look up to you,” she said.

 

Laughter rolled from my throat again.  But it was without humor.  “That I don't believe.”

 

“Believe it or not, it's the truth.”

 

I watched as she straightened up, crossing her arms.  Her character's facial expression changed into something I couldn't decipher.  She could only show changes in expression if she was doing it on purpose.  It was something she wanted me to notice.  Pity?  Maybe.

 

“Do you remember Virtuoso?” she asked.

 

“Yeah.” 

 

How could I forget?  Virtuoso was the first tournament where Crazy and I had entered as separate solo competitors rather than as a team.  We met up in the semi-finals.  I lost.  She went on to win the tournament.

 

The next day, I packed up my deck and put it in storage.  I swore to give up battling.

 

With a sigh, I stood and gathered Pichu from the table.

 

“There's no changing your mind, is there?” I asked.

 

She didn't answer me, but then she didn't have to.  We both knew.

 

I set the rodent on my shoulder, gave my other half one last look, then turned around, shoving my hands into the pockets of my coat.  “See you later then,” I said.  “Come find me when you finally come up with a plan to destroy me utterly, okay?”

 

Her voice reached out with quiet revelation, absent of pride: “She didn't really love you, you know.”

 

I paused mid-step.  “Maybe,” I admitted, before I started walking.

 

The way Crazy said it, it seemed like it had to be true.

 

x x x

 

Marth woke up alone.  Light was seeping in through the windows.  He sat up and pushed down his cape, which he had been using as a blanket.  It was cold.  He wrapped the cape around himself and stood up, looking around.

 

Roy had tried to turn the shrine into someplace liveable.  There was an old table set up by the crumbling altar, with a couple crates for chairs.  In the corner, he kept a stash of various weapons.  His sword and armor were missing.

 

And by the window there, curled up into a ball where a spot of sunlight shone…

 

“Mewtwo!”

 

The Pokemon lifted its head with bleary eyes.  It yawned.

 

Marth walked over and patted it on the head.  “Good boy.”  The cat let him scratch behind its ears.  “You did well.  You found him for me.”

 

The cat purred.  It was a deep sound.

 

“The question is,” Marth said, “where has he gone now?”

 

x x x

 

The bar was empty except for a few patrons.  Roy drank alone at a table, trying to come to terms with the recent disruption to his life.  He remembered nothing before this place.  He couldn't trust anything that Marth guy was talking about, except for that strange feeling of familiarity that came up when he heard him speak.  Roy trusted nothing but his instinct.  His instinct told him that Marth wasn't lying.  The tears had seemed real enough anyway, not that Roy could tell real tears from fake.

 

Marth denied that they were friends.  They had been something else.  They had fought together.  Roy was okay with this.  He understood fighting.  But that “something else” bothered him.

 

Roy emptied his glass down his throat and reached for the bottle.  He was pouring himself another when someone called his name (the one Marth had given him).  He looked up.  Two men pulled up chairs at his table, looking so much alike that they had to be brothers.  One was short and portly; the other was taller and skinnier.  The fat one wore red; the skinny one wore green.

 

“How have you been?” the fat one asked.  “We haven't seen you in months!”

 

Roy stared at both of them.  “Do I know you guys?”

 

x x x

 

Mewtwo floated into a bar, someplace called Ninth Gate, Marth trailing behind.

 

The place was mostly empty, so it was easy to spot Roy at a table, in the middle of a card game with a familiar face.  Marth looked around the rest of the place.  Where one brother was, the other usually wasn't far off.

 

“Hey, Marth!”  A hand patted his back.  He turned around startled to find Mario beaming up at him.  “This is a strange place to run into you,” the short plumber said.

 

“Yes, I thought you were supposed to be racing…?”  Wait until Peach finds out.

 

“I was…until someone gambled away the entrance fee.”  He indicated with a nod of his head where his brother Luigi sat with Roy.  “He has until tomorrow to make it back.”

 

“I see.”  Peach was definitely going to hear about this.

 

“So we came here for the gambling houses.  And we ran into our old friend.”  Mario jerked a thumb in Roy's direction.  “But it turns out he doesn't remember us.”

 

“I know.  Something happened to his memory.  Mewtwo wasn't able to find out exactly what.”

 

Mario looked sympathetic.  “Ohhhhh.  So he doesn't remember any of us.  Not even you.”  He thought about it for a second.  “Around here, there are drugs that will do that to you.”  And then, “Does the master know?”

 

“I don't know,” Marth said, suddenly worried.  “I don't know if he'll take him back like this.”

 

“Does he want to go back?”

 

Marth glanced down.  “I don't know.”

 

Mario patted him on the arm.  “I'll tell you what I know.  The drugs they sell here are temporary.  Roy may gain his memory back over time.  If he doesn't, go find someone who knows potions.  Most things are reversible.”

 

A specific someone came to Marth's mind, but he didn't say it out loud.  Had he cared for you…

 

 “There's one good thing about this,” Mario added.

 

“What?”

 

Mario waved him closer and whispered in his ear, “He probably doesn't remember that Luigi cheats at cards.”  He pulled back and laughed.  Marth smiled to be polite.  Mario headed over to Luigi's table and indicated that Marth should follow.

 

Roy didn't notice them.  He stared intently at his hand of cards.  There was a large pool of money on the table between them.

 

Mewtwo was watching Luigi.  Marth turned and looked him.  Compared to Roy, he was calm.  He looked a little bit confused though, as if he were thinking too hard.  It took a few minutes for Marth to figure out that it was probably an act.

 

“Okay.  Show your hand,” Luigi said.

 

Roy gave him a wary look before spreading out his cards.  Luigi grinned.  He slammed his own cards face up on the table.  “Aha!  I win!”

 

Roy cursed.  Luigi cheered for himself and started to collect his earnings.  “Another round?” he asked.

 

“No way,” Roy murmured, pushing his chair back from the table.

 

“What?  I'm being fair.  I'll give you the chance to earn back what you lost.”

 

“Hello, Luigi,” Marth spoke up.

 

“Oh, hi, Marth.” 

 

Roy looked at him when he spoke but didn't say anything.

 

“I'm sorry for this,” Marth said to Luigi.

 

“Huh?”

 

In a single motion, Marth drew his sword.  The tip split open Luigi's left sleeve, and the cards he had hidden there fell out.  Everyone froze.

 

“Er…” was all Luigi could say.  Mario smacked himself on the forehead.

 

“You bastard!” Roy shouted.  He jumped up, knocking over the table.  Then suddenly, his sword was out too.  He lashed out as if he meant to cut the plumber in half, but Luigi managed to block the blade with his chair.  He pushed Roy away and took off running for the door.

 

Roy ran after him.  “Come back here!”

 

They were gone, out the door.

 

“Eh…Marth, you didn't have to do that,” Mario said. 

 

“He should play fair next time,” Marth countered.  He sheathed his sword.

 

Mario sighed.  He bent down and started picking up the dropped money.

 

“Half of that is Roy's,” Marth said.

 

Mario collected all of it into his cap and stood up.

 

“If you need money, just ask the master,” Marth insisted.  “He'll send it to you.  Roy's on his own.  He can't--”

 

Mario pulled a handful of coins from his cap and placed them in Marth's hand.  “We have enough, anyway,” he said.

 

x x x

 

Roy had stopped to catch his breath when Marth came upon him on the empty street.

 

“The skinny one runs fast,” Roy mumbled between breaths.

 

Wordlessly, Marth took hold of Roy's wrist and turned it over, dumping the coins into his palm.  Roy looked mildly surprised.  “Thanks,” he said.  He stashed them away into a money pouch before sinking to the ground.  Marth joined him on the curb.  Mewtwo settled down next to him.

 

“You have a pet?” Roy asked, staring at the large grey cat.

 

“Mewtwo was a gift from the master,” Marth explained.  He patted the Pokemon on its head.  “A special gift.  He's the reason I knew about your memory loss.”

 

“That ugly thing?” Roy murmured.  Marth only smiled.

 

The sky above was hazy, brownish grey.  The sun had shone for a few hours in the morning, but now it was gone, hidden behind a heavy layer of cloud and smog.

 

“What happened to the sun?” Marth asked.

 

Roy shrugged.  “That's the way it is here.”

 

“Don't stay here,” Marth said.  “Come home.”

 

“What home?” Roy asked.  “I don't remember anything before this place.”

 

Marth turned his face to the overcast sky.  “I think I can help you,” he said.  “If you come with me, there's someone I know who might be able to restore your memory.”

 

Roy said nothing.  He rubbed the back of his neck.  Marth waited.  “It doesn't matter,” Roy said finally.  “Maybe I'm better off this way.”

 

“That can't be,” Marth whispered.

 

“From what you told me, I don't think I was too happy before.”

 

Marth stared at him blankly for a moment.  “Was it that bad?  Was it so terrible you had to throw everything away?”

“You know I can't answer that.”

 

Marth looked away.  He didn't see that Roy reached for his hand but stopped himself.  “I see.  I came here for answers, but you have nothing to tell me.”

 

“I guess you came too late,” Roy said.  He was smiling though.  “Don't let it bother you.  We can still have fun.”

 

“What?”

 

“You came here with your fancy words and your impressive stories about my past life.  Don't just leave.  Don't go back to him--the master you keep talking about.  Here you don't have to take orders from anyone.”

 

Marth tried to smile.  “I need it though.  Something to serve, whether it's an ideology or a person.”

 

“Hah.  And I thought you were a prince.  From the moment I first saw you, I knew you were a prince.  It's surprising that you'd take orders from anyone.”

 

This time Marth laughed.  “I'm a prince without a kingdom,” he said, like a confession.  “I serve the master.  It's all I know.”  The smile faded from his face.  “And then I met you.”

 

“I hope I was a decent person.”

 

“As a fighter, you were spectacular.  As a person, you were less so.”

 

“Hah.  And you want this person back?”

 

“Of course.  Even if…”  His voice trailed off.  The next thing he knew, Roy's fingers were clasped around his wrist.

 

“We're being watched,” Roy said lowly, calmly.  “I don't like it.”

 

Marth's eyes darted left and right.  He saw nothing out of the ordinary.  But Mewtwo was watching something across the street.  He tried to follow its line of sight.  There was someone standing in the shadows.

 

Roy pulled him to his feet.  “Let's go.”  He turned around and broke into a run.

 

“Wait!”  But Roy wasn't stopping.  Marth ran after him, Mewtwo following.

 

Roy turned into a dark alley.  He led them through a series of tunnels and open sewers that were the main infrastructure of Pitfall.  Mewtwo followed as if he knew the path already, but Marth could barely keep up.  He tried to keep his eyes on Roy's fluttering cape as they took sharp turns in the dark.  Water sloshed beneath his boots.  The air was muggy and damp.  He heard heavy footsteps behind them.

 

Marth took another turn and found himself in near complete darkness.  He reached out blindly with his hands.  Something flickered like a beacon in his mind.  Mewtwo? he thought.  And then a pair of hands grabbed him and pulled him further into the shadows.  A voice whispered in his ear, “Shh!”

 

Out of breath, Marth turned back to the way they'd come, to the only source of light.  He still heard the pounding footfalls of someone running.  They waited.  The footfalls sounded louder.  And then a human figure passed in front of the light, a silhouette.  Marth couldn't make out any details, but suddenly a vivid image flashed in his mind: a blue suit, a red helmet.

 

Roy leapt out into the light and attacked.

 

“Wait!” Marth cried out.  He ran out after him.

 

Roy and Falcon wrestled with each other, trading punches.  Falcon, who was taller, tried to shove Roy back against the wall, but Roy drove his fist into Falcon's abdomen.  Falcon staggered but didn't fall.  He had his arms around Roy's shoulders, trying to push him back, but Roy managed to strike another blow to his stomach.  Falcon grunted, but still didn't fall.  His hands found a grip on Roy's armor, and he spun around, throwing Roy into the wall.  Roy didn't let go, so Falcon slammed him into the wall again and again.  Falcon pulled back and spun around again, gaining momentum, and hurling Roy several feet away from him.

 

Roy tumbled, rolled, and landed on his feet.  As he rose, he drew his sword.  Falcon was already charging him, fist pulled back…

 

A swipe from Mewtwo's tail tripped up the bounty hunter and made him fall.  Roy had his sword ready by then, but a pair of arms wrapped around him, pulling him back.

 

“Wait!  Please!”

 

Roy managed to break free, but Marth had put himself between him and his target.

 

“Stop!  I know him!”

 

Falcon stood up.  He kept his distance.  Roy stared him down.  He made no move to attack again, but Roy didn't sheath his sword.

 

“You know him,” Roy said to Marth.  “You know everyone today.”  He kept an eye on Falcon.  “Who are you and why are you following us?”

 

“Roy,” Marth tried to explain.  “This is Captain Falcon.  You knew him from before.”

 

Roy glared at the bounty hunter.

 

“He's lost his memory,” Marth said to Falcon.  “I'm afraid he doesn't remember us.”

 

There was a long moment of silence.  Falcon eyed Roy.  “The master's gonna hear about this,” he said.

 

“What do you want?” Roy asked bluntly.

 

“From you,” Falcon said, “nothing.”  He looked at Marth.  “I'm here for you.”

 

Marth wasn't surprised.  “For me.”

 

Falcon nodded.  “You snuck out without permission.  That's against the rules.”

 

Marth said nothing.

 

“The master's not too happy about that.  I think it's time you came home.”  Falcon looked at Roy.  “It doesn't matter whether or not you bring him with you.  Just as long as you come back.”

 

“Tell the master I have some business to take care of,” Marth said.  “Tell him I will be back soon.”

 

But Falcon was shaking his head.  “No, I don't think you understand.  He really isn't happy.  And he thinks I'm the one that told you where to find Roy.”

 

“When I left, it wasn't with the intention of never returning.  You have to explain this to him.”

 

“You explain it to him,” Falcon said.  “When the master's angry, there's gonna be consequences for all of us.”

 

Marth was silent for a moment.  “I'll come back,” he said.  “But not right now.”

 

Falcon shook his head and took a step forward.  Roy saw this and held up his sword.  “Back off!” he said fiercely.  Falcon stopped and ran his eyes over the three of them.  He seemed to do a mental calculation of his odds.  Evidently he came up short because he shifted his stance and stepped back.

 

“I'm not responsible for you,” Falcon said.  “Whatever the master does to you, it's off my hands.  Just remember he knows where the find you.  Next time I won't be alone.”  He turned and started walking.

 

“Screw the master!” Roy shouted after him.  “Tell him to stop being a coward and come face us himself!”

 

Falcon paused and looked over his shoulder.  “I'll deliver that message to him, Roy.”  He turned and walked away.

 

“What a bastard,” Roy murmured.

 

“You don't know what you're saying, Roy,” Marth said.

 

“What, is he dangerous?”

 

“The master?  No.  At least I don't think so.”

 

“Then we have nothing to worry about.”  He said this with more confidence than Marth felt.