Chapter Text
Kirby had experienced, perhaps, too many hardships in his short life. Some included a stubborn King who, all too often, set off world ending scenarios and schemes, weird rivals that sometimes acted like your friend and sometimes had you at sword point, monstrous beings that wished to destroy the world, literal super powered Gods that wanted to take over your world, and otherwise normal people who too the whole God complex ideology just a tad too far... lots of God related things, really.
So to say that he was a little miffed at his current predicament, was certainly a heafty statement. A persistent sting of pain kept pulsing sharply at the top of his head. Abrasions on his hands and feet and face stung as dirt began mixing with thin droplets of blood. His mind kept spinning round and round, until it had twisted itself into a nice little headache complete with enough pressure at his forehead to kill a tardigrade. His brain scrambled to update him on his new situation. Little bits of gravel and rock poked his sides and feet, helping to bring him back to awareness.
The longer he remained motionless on the ground, the more he was starting to become aware of the decidedly unfair fact that crash landing your Warp Star at top speeds was, in fact, a painful experience. Tears, unbidden, started pricking at his eyes. And once they started, it was impossible to stop.
Things had gone downhill at a pace that would make Sonic jealous. First there had been Fox's report of thousands of Master Hands appearing out of thin air. This alone would have been bad enough, but then some horrid God-like being--it had pretty wings that Kirby was stupidly jealous of--had decided it was going to condense into a neat little blackhole and then explode in a wave of colors and deadly light. Said light then engulfed all his friends and rivals, and they'd disappeared, possibly gone for good.
Kirby had just barely managed to escape using his Warp Star, but he was left with the difficult decision on what he was supposed to do now. He was by his lonesome and injured and overwhelmed and totally not crying, while curled up on the ground like a pathetic piece of discarded bubblegum. He wasn't even sure where he had landed. When he was fleeing those awful tendrils of light, everything had been on full blown, horror-stricken autopilot with no time to be admiring the scenery.
With slow, careful movements, Kirby pushed himself to his feet, wincing as his wounds burned in protest. Once he was up, he scrubbed his dirty hands over his eyes to get the waterworks to stop. Crying never solved anything was a cruel but true phrase, after all. Eyes cleared of irritating tears, Kirby immediately shut his eyes again to block the sudden ray of sunlight that had traveled millions of miles from its star just to blind him. Blinking rapidly, he tried again and sucked in a breath at the sight before him.
Stretching miles and miles around him, was a rocky, rust colored, bowl shaped canyon of sorts. At the bottom of the canyon, life flourished. Waterfalls thundered in the middle-distance, rocky ruins, prosperous towns, and long bridges peaked out of countless trees and shrubs. Impossibly large red and blue mushrooms peaked out of a small forest, almost hidden from view by a large city filled with skyscrapers and squat buildings. Tall, imposing mountains stood in the distance, some capped with snowy peaks. To the right of the mountains, a massive volcano loomed, with angry, red streams of glowing lava trailing down its sides. Past the volcano, floating islands scraped the cloud filled heavens.
For a brief moment, Kirby forgot about the pain wearing on his body, forgot about how he may never see any of his friends again, forgot about everything as he breathed in the sight before him. But then, it all came flooding back in as it dawned on him that perhaps there was a reason he had crash landed here. Was there a chance his friends were still alive? Had fate taken the reins to lead him here? He'd certainly experienced other, more farfetched things. Of course, he could also be completely wrong, and just so happened to land in the middle of paradise. Even if he was wrong, there wasn't any harm in exploring the canyon before him. It's not like things could get any worse...
Decision made, Kirby started forward towards a circular stone structure about a mile away. It was one of the first things his eyes had landed on, and it seemed like as good a place to start as any.
His feet stung with every step forward, and the hot sun beat down on his head. It was a relief when he finally stepped out onto soft, flower speckled grass. He wanted to stop now, but the ruins weren't too far ahead of him now, and he'd rather sit somewhere with a good amount of shade, anyways. So he trekked on, inspecting the grass beneath him as he went. A particularly pretty flower here, an interesting beatle there, a weird shadow out of place coming at him from the left...
Kirby whirled in a panic and then let out a massively relieved breath of air as he took in the familiar features of the shadow's owner.
Short, squat figure, a blue pair of overalls, and a bright red cap with the letter M printed at the front. This was... Mario, right? He certainly looked the part. Everything, from what he was wearing, to the way he held himself screamed Mario. Kirby should be overjoyed! If Mario was here, maybe all the others were okay too. So why, then, was looking at Mario twisting Kirby's usually dependable gut into a knotted mess? This seemed way too easy. He'd just crash landed in a foreign land, all alone and clinging to the desperate hope that, somehow, his friends were all still okay. Kirby may not be the smartest bean in the can, but even he knew something wasn't right. Mario appearing the instant Kirby began looking was sending up all kinds of King Dedede sized red flags. It wasn't until Kirby gave Mario a more thorough once over that he understood why.
Mario's eyes were usually an amicable baby blue, bright and approachable. Presently, an ominous red glow was obscuring his normally friendly gaze, creeping Kirby out a tad. It also should have tipped Kirby off that something was wrong based on how Mario had yet to say anything to him. Not a greeting, or an exclamation of relief, or even a gasp had left Mario's mouth.
Just as Kirby was about to ask what was wrong with the Italian, Mario's blank expression morphed into a deep scowl, and he raised his fists in a challenge.
'Oh Stars,' Kirby thought as he immediatley shifted to a more defensive stance. He really wasn't ready for a fight.
Even on a good day--today certainly not being one--Mario was an absolute pain to deal with. He struck hard and played a decent punching bag. Add on the Italian's vast battling experience and Kirby's current battered self, and you've got yourself a scrumptious recipe for disaster. Oh, and let's not the possession. Why was it always possession?
Kirby didn't have any longer to dwell on the unfairness of this fight, because Mario was coming at him, real fast. Kirby dove to the left to avoid the elbow aimed at his head, and rolled with the momentum to gain some distance, though not for long.
'Here he comes again.' Kirby raised his fists to block a high powered kick, sliding back a few inches at the force of it. 'Ow, ow, OW!' His scrapes burned with a vengeance as his skin stretched, but, luckily, his arms held the block, giving him enough time to latch onto Mario's leg. Kirby pivoted on the spot and threw Mario as hard as he could at the grass covered ground beneath them.
Must not have been very hard, because Mario was down for barely a second, then he was up again. Without enough time or space to react, a boot collided with Kirby's face, sending him sprawling away. He'd only managed to draw in half a gasp as he landed, when another blow struck across his cheek. That drew a cry from Kirby, tears welling up in his eyes and blurring his vision. Partially blinded and well into panicking, Kirby lashed out at random. A puff of air blew past his head as his foot dug into what was hopefully Mario's diaphragm. He followed it up with another kick in Mario's direction, only to strike empty air. 'Shoot!' Kirby let out a frustrated snarl and scrubbed his eyes furiously, briefly clearing them of tears.
Kirby raked his eyes over the grassy field they were fighting in, and was confused not to find any sign of his opponent. One thundering heartbeat... two...then his face face was back in the dirt. He threw Mario off his back, scrambled to his feet, and turned around in time to catch a left hook. Mario's right fist followed the left, and Kirby caught that as well. They struggled against each other for several heated seconds, Mario's blazing red eyes glaring daggers into Kirby's own.
Two whole seconds of unbroken eye contact, heated and enraged, and then Kirby's foot was crushing Mario's 'mushrooms,' and the Italian was off him in an instant, screaming obscenities and clutching his crotch.
"FIGLIO DI PUTTANA, THAT HURT! LE MIE PALLE! CAZZOoo!"
Kirby would admit, that was a low blow, a real low blow. As in even though he'd been fearing for his life, he still felt bad. It seemed to have somehow broken Mario out of whatever spell he'd been under though, so that was great. Really great, because now Kirby could keel over and not move for just a few moments. He'd already been hurting from his spectacular collision earlier, and this tussle had taken that pain and amplified it by six, at least. So he gingerly sat down on the grass and stared at Mario who was hutched over a ways away, still clutching his crotch and muttering curses in what Kirby had to assume was Italian tongue.
A blessedly cool breeze washed over Kirby as he did a quick look over of his growing number of injuries. The bruising probably wouldn't be so bad, a benefit of being a shock absorbant pink ball. He was mostly concerned with how rolling about in the grass and dirt had irritated his scrapes and abrasions. The thin red lines on his hands now looked inflamed and pulsed in time with his heartbeat. Well, that probably wasn't good.
Kirby peered over at Mario to see that, while he was fairing better, he hadnt left their fight unscathed. Grass stains covered much of his clothes, and he had a few tears at the seams of his overalls. With his hat askew, bits of sweat tinged hair poked out over his dirt covered face. His nose looked a little inflamed, perhaps it had gotten crushed when Kirby threw him. Thankfully, Mario's eyes were their normal blue, without even a hint of the prior red haze.
Mario caught sight of Kirby watching him and immediately looked sheepish. The Italian straightened and made his way over to Kirby's space, ready with an unnecessary apology Kirby could see coming from a mile away.
"I'm real sorry-" He started.
"No, it's okay," Kirby immediately cut him off, because it really wasn't his fault. No one every asked to be possessed, and it would be unfair to judge someone's actions, when they weren't in control.
"But I hurt you." Mario's face scrunched up with guilt as he took in Kirby's numerous wounds. "Really badly."
Kirby waved his hands in dismissal. "I'm all good!" Kirby pointed to a scratched up patch of skin on his cheek. "Most of this isn't your fault anyways."
"It's not? But I attacked you!" Mario clutched his head and looked away with squinted eyes. "That much is clear anyway..."
"Yeah, you did," Kirby said with a small wince and held out his arm. "But I think most of this is from my bad landing earlier."
"Bad landing?"
Kirby looked away, suddenly feeling embarrassed and a little guilty for getting hurt. "Yeah, I, uh, sorta crashed my Warp Star over there," Kirby pointed towards the rocky terrain he'd come from. "I ran out of energy, while I was flying away from...whatever it was that attacked us all."
"Well, Dio Mio! Are you okay?" Mario exclaimed, suddenly looking far more concerned. "What am I saying, of course you aren't! Let me get a good look at your injuries!"
Kirby didn't protest as Mario plopped down next to him and took hold of his hand. There wasn't any point in arguing with the Italian. Kirby was pretty sure the man had a doctorate.
"We gotta get you cleaned up, Kirby." Mario fretted, after taking a good look at Kirby's scuffed up hand.
Kirby titled his head in consideration, staring at the damage on his hand. "Yeah, I guess so. It doesnt hurt that bad though, so I can keep going, right?" He gave Mario a somewhat pleading look, half expecting the Italian to tell him no.
"I suppose..." Mario said with a wince as he looked at a particularly bad scrape on Kirby's left foot. "It's not like I could clean you up now, anyways. I dont have any supplies and-" He glanced around a bit "-there's no water nearby to wash these abrasions."
Kirby frowned, not liking the sound of cleaning out his wounds. It needed to be done, but he knew it would sting worse than getting bit by a transformed Scarfy. Well, it was either grin and bear a bit of pain, or he'd have to face the dangers of infection.
Mario noticed his expression. "Oh, dont look so glum. It won't be that bad."
"I know..."
Mario smiled with sympathy, scrunching up his damaged nose, and Kirby was reminded he wasn't the only one injured.
"I didnt hurt you too badly l, did I?" Kirby asked, a bit shyly.
"Oh, I'm peachy!" Mario said with a grin. "You didn't hurt me too much. I'm more concerned about your injuries. Our fight probably wasn't that bad, but combining it with your crash landing..." He trailed off, once again looking upset.
"I'm okay, really," Kirby assured him. "It wasnt your fault.
Mario looked dubious for a moment, then his expression changed abruptly, as if he had just had a realization. "You managed to escape...whatever that creature was. Did-did anyone else get away?"
Kirby released a sigh, and stared hard at the ground. "I don't think so."
Mario grimaced and looked away.
"Buuutt, "Kirby drawled, while rolling to his feet. "Maybe we can find everyone else. I found you, after all!"
"That's true." Mario nodded to himself, face brightening as realization dawned. "That's true!" He jumped to his feet. "Well let's a go then! We have to save everyone!"
Kirby huffed out a laugh, caught up in his sudden burst of energy. "O-okay! Right, let's go save everyone!"
They both stood there for a moment.
"So, where should we go?" Kirby asked first.
Mario looked blank. "I'll admit, I haven't any idea where to start looking."
Kirby paused, considering. Where had he been going before? That stone platform with the pillars, right? Maybe they'd find someone there.
Turning in a half circle to find the structure--the taller pillars were just visible behind the crest of a somewhat distant hilltop-- Kirby pointed it out to Mario. "That's where I was going, before I ran into you. Can we start there?"
"Sounds good to me," Mario agreed, peering at the stone columns in the distance. "Off we go, then."
Kirby pushed his aches away and took a step forwards, Mario right beside him. What he'd find out there, the dangers he'd face, the problems he'd encounter, Kirby had no idea. All he had was the faint hope that he'd be able to find and help everyone the same way he'd done with Mario. And maybe that hope would be enough.