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She smoothed her dress down, nervous. Peach had dreamed about this gown, and was almost worried it was too fancy for the occasion. At the very least, she thought she looked nice. She wondered how much longer it would be before they could go in.
She heard footsteps and whirled around excitedly. There he was, in a stunning, sharp suit. His hair was done, she noted, and she wondered how long it had taken for Luigi to talk him into that. What made her smile, though, was his choice in neckwear. “You broke out the bowtie? Is the public ready for that?”
He laughed lightly, but his main concern seemed to be to stare at her. “You look amazing,” he said.
Peach felt warm. She offered him her elbow and said, “Shall we?”
Lights twinkled and reflected in the main hall, and everything was blanketed in a golden haze. The music was soft, yet so poignant it seemed to be coming from her own head. She wondered how they had managed to pull this off; surely, this was the most beautiful Mushroom Ball they’d ever held. Though she knew she was surrounded by everyone she cared about, she only had eyes for the man in front of her.
They fit together easily, swaying in time to the melody. She had settled into the familiarity, feeling almost relieved. She had been looking forward to this. She had missed him.
Her heart thumped. When was the last time she had seen him?
“Hey, Peach,” he sad, and she shook the thought from her head. “You okay?”
Peach, he had called her, not Princess. That had been hard-won, to get him to call her that. But it was easy to be like this now; they were not a Princess and her defender, they were just two people. Maybe even a couple, she thought. He understood.
She suddenly realized he was still waiting for an answer. “I’m great,” she said truthfully. She needed to change the subject, though. “What have you been up to lately?”
He shrugged, glanced away. “Oh, you know me,” he said. “The usual stuff.”
That could mean anything, Peach felt like saying. Life was unpredictable. Who knows when I’m going to see you again, she thought, and sadness welled up in her throat.
She blinked away the feeling, willing herself to stay in the moment. She had tunnel vision. The rest of the hall fell away. It didn’t matter, she realized.
He was solid in her arms, though, and that grounded her. His head was on her shoulder. Peach was taller than him, tall enough that she could rest her cheek on his head. She squeezed him tighter. “I love you,” she said.
He laughed. She felt it. “I love you, too,” he said, and he sounded so at ease. “Feeling sentimental?”
“Oh, yeah,” she said, a dry edge to her voice despite her tightening throat. She was smiling. She knew he could feel her breathing, and made an effort to steady herself, to stop feeling so many different things. “Very much so.” He rubbed her back like he had a million times before.
They stayed like that, floating in space, for a long time. This song was never-ending. Gradually, she felt relaxed, almost like she could fall asleep. Moments like this between then were becoming scarcer, it seemed, as the years went on. This meant the world to her. She was happy to delay the point when she would have to leave again.
The thought was just forming when he spoke again. “Peach,” he said, with some urgency.
Against her will, he pulled away from her. He looked into her eyes, and all of a sudden he looked sad.
Her heart was pounding. She tried to take in as many details of his face as she could. The specifics were slipping away from her.
“I miss you so much,” Mario said, but the words had undeniably come from Peach’s own head. With a sharp gasp, she woke up.
The room was dark, cold, metal. She knew exactly where she was. That is, she had no clue where in the world she was. But she knew she was imprisoned by horrible people, and she was alone, effectively as far from home as she could be.
Peach rolled over onto her back, pressing her palms against her eyes to keep from crying. She needed to keep her wits about her, she thought, if she was going to figure a way out of this. No way was she going to fall apart like this.
The door to her room opened.
Apprehension gripped her, but then she softened. She knew this must be that computer again. He seemed friendly, but this wasn’t like being taken by Bowser. With him, she knew the routine. She had a relatively comfortable room in his castle, she’d have a few dinners with him, she’d read his kids a bedtime story, and before she knew it Mario would be there to rescue her. This was different. She didn’t know what she was being held here for. All she knew was that there was some sort of plan for her, the specifics of which were unknown, and that was terrifying. Maybe this computer was her lifeline. She didn’t know anything about artificial intelligence, but he seemed like he wanted to help her, and she supposed she needed to encourage that.
His room was dimly lit, and she supposed it was still nighttime. “TEC?” She knocked on the doorframe, then felt silly for doing it. “You wanted to see me?”
“Princess Peach,” he said, his generated voice coming softly though the speakers. “I am glad you came.”
She recoiled a bit, imagining Grodus typing her name into his database so TEC would know what to call her. “TEC, can I ask...” She walked a bit closer. “Did Mario receive my mail okay? Did he- did he read it?”
“I can confirm that Mario received the mail,” TEC answered. “Although I am unable to confirm wether or not he has read it, as well as unable to receive any incoming mail.”
“Right,” Peach said. “You’ve told me that already.”
“I apologize for my redundancy,” TEC said evenly, and Peach supposed that was the only tone he had.
“Why did you call me in here?” Peach knew she was being short, but the late hour and the fact that she was being held captive were beginning to frustrate her.
TEC paused for a such a long moment Peach wondered if he’d gone into sleep mode. Then, he said, “How are you feeling?”
The question almost knocked her off her feet. She glared up at his camera incredulously, then in anger when she realized he didn’t get the irony. “Bad,” she said, “I’m feeling bad.”
He said, “Is there anything I can do to fix that?”
She scoffed, then wrung her hands. She thought of something. “Can you tell me what day it is?”
“Certainly.” A calendar popped up on his screen. She studied it, and slowly deflated.
“I missed it,” she said quietly, more to herself than to him.
A beat. “What have you missed?” TEC asked.
“The Mushroom Ball,” she murmured. "I didn't realize how long it had been." She figured he must have the definition in his memory bank because he didn’t ask any follow up questions.
“Is there anything else I can do?” TEC asked. A moment’s hesitation, then, “Anything?”
Peach shook her head, a lump rising in her throat. “No, no, it’s fine. I just-“ She turned away. “I just want to go home.” She crumpled, and there was no stopping the tears now. She felt vaguely embarrassed as she cried into her hands, wanting desperately to feel this privately, but the machine already knew she was upset. That was why he’d called her in here in the first place. But he couldn’t understand.
“Is this…” More hesitation. “Is this love as well?”
Peach turned back to him. She wished she could feel this intense homesickness from a detached perspective like he could. Why did he want to feel this way? “Yes,” she said, “this is love.”
She decided being here with him was marginally better than being alone, so she stayed a moment longer. Then, “Princess Peach, dance with me.”
Her head snapped up, and she stopped crying out of sheer shock. “What? I don’t want to dance,” she said, before any other more rational objections. How could she dance with a computer?
As if to answer her unvoiced concern, a hologram appeared. A hologram of herself. She took a full step back in surprise. “What is that?”
“It is you,” TEC said plainly.
Peach regarded herself. It was an accurate likeness, she decided, but she had never seen herself looking so unfriendly. Was this how he saw her? Perhaps, she realized, he had never seen another human being. The thought swirled strangely in her chest.
“Alright,” she said, “I’ll dance.”
Barely had she agreed when the hologram’s arms sprang up. TEC wanted to lead, she noticed.
She reached out, and her heart dropped when her hands met thin air. Of course, she told herself, what were you expecting? This wasn’t magic.
She jumped when music came tinnily out of TEC’s speakers. She didn’t recognize the melody, but it was easy enough to fall in time with her facsimile. TEC’s steps seemed to come directly from a book on royal ballroom culture, and she supposed it did. She supplied her own memory of what Mario had felt like in her arms, and for a second it was close enough. She smiled, and so did the hologram.
The song ended, and the hologram faded away. “Thank you, Princess Peach,” TEC said. “That was very fun.” She looked up at him curiously. “Fun?” He sounded confused, if that was possible. “Is this impulse I feel the concept known as fun?”
“TEC…” Peach put her hand on his console, wondering what to do next.
“Princess Peach, please use my communicator. Please send whatever message you want. I will make sure Mario receives it.”
Her heart swelled. She didn’t know what to think of TEC still, but she felt she could trust him to do this for her. She didn’t love that TEC was seeing her private words, and uselessly tried to convince herself that he was an unfeeling machine. It worked well enough.
“Thank you, TEC,” she said, and she heard an electronic bloop.
“The message has been sent,” TEC said. “Please, you must return to bed.”
“I must?” she repeated, and laughed lightly, but of course he didn’t react.
“Yes, I want to analyze the data from this dance immediately,” he said. “The data I thought was fun.”
She said nothing, and wished she could pat his shoulder or squeeze his hand. Right before she left the room, she smiled. “You’re a weird computer.” She hoped it came off as teasing, maybe even friendly. But of course, she had no way of knowing how he processed it.
“Goodnight, Princess Peach.” The lights in the room dimmed, and she took that as her cue to leave for real. She laid back down in the bed, but she didn’t have any more dreams that night.