Long time no see, eh? 'Ello to y'all!

No questions for now please. xD I work in mysterious ways. And so does my goddamned computer. But really, no questions. I've just haven't been online this past year, that's all you've gotta now. Now, regarding this...

This'll be a series of one-shots, perhaps related to one another, but don't expect continuity. Ratings change, as do genres in each chapter. The first half I started writing a year ago, and the second half I wrote just today, so please ignore the change

Lovers and Morons.

#1: Letter to a Friend.

Peach was, as other few of her companions, having a quite boring day. Almost everyone had been rushing through the place, preparing for matches, or using their short free times for training instead of resting, as matches were being held in almost every arena.

She, however, wasn't.

She was there in her bedroom; not looking at the TV, not writing in her diary, no nothing, just being there. Right now it was such a dull room, deprived of any possible source of entertainment, or the slightest form of amusement. It was not that she hadn't tried, in fact, she had done about anything that came to her mind, but nothing proved successful. And she had no one to talk to.

Zelda was the busiest person she had seen so far, since a series of victorious matches meant an overly-long time for the press and the fans. Then there was Samus. Surely not the most talkative one, and Peach doubted she was considered a close friend by the bounty hunter, but at the moment she couldn't care less; still, Samus had been last seen shooting targets, and it was obvious she wouldn't be happy if disturbed.That left her with the boys. Mewtwo was, indeed, very interesting, but hardly available; Marth was second busiest in the day; Falco apparently wasn't having a good day, and would most likely reject her company; Captain Falcon always had something to talk about, and a good opinion for that matter, but he had exited the building as soon as the news of his match-less day were heard, alongside Link. Roy was also trapped in the waiting room, probably leaning back on his chair, with his eyes closed through his psychological preparation period.

Peach knew very well his before-fighting habits. A smile curled her lips, as she reflected on their friendship- pretty much recent, but stronger than what his sword would break. To ignorant ones, it would seem to be close to surpassing the borders of only friendship, and that was something they would laugh at as well.

Roy... funny person.

Subconsciously, she came upon the fact of him being a good listener. Following that line, she came up with an idea. She got up from her bed and sat on her desk, quickly getting a sheet of paper and a pencil in front of her.

It was a relaxing technique Roy himself had taught her, after being caught mumbling angrily over a severely sharpie-smudged letter. "When no one's around to hear you rant or you don't want them to hear, write it to someone, simple as that. Just trying to write something my homeland's not gonna see, ya know?" And since he's not here, I might as well write to him... not like I'll show him anyway.

Now humming quietly to herself, Peach began writing. Though, it turned slightly different from what she originally planned...


Does he like listening to me?

Does he think of me as one of his best friends?

Does he worry about me?

Does he trust me?

Does he think about me?

If he ever cried, why would it be?

Would he sacrifice something for my well-being?

Does he think I'm different or special in any way?

She hesitated, contemplating on what she had written so far. Daring, she would say, but not daring enough given that Roy would never see that. Thus, that one question that she had in mind wouldn't be so embarrassing.

Would he like to stay with me... after this whole tournament deal?

Ugh... She surely wasn't in her right mind, perhaps nothing a good snack and some walking couldn't fix. And downstairs she went.


And upstairs Roy went.

"Great match, wasn't it?" He muttered quietly, smiling widely despite his tired body. Sword held loosely, he decided asking himself was enough, and answering himself was rejected. He headed for his room, already imagining his comfortable bed and with half of his mind already taking the nap. However, Peach's opened door caught his attention.

He neared curiously, wondering if she was there; oh, he could use someone to tell about his stunning victory. But as he soon saw, the room was empty. How careless of her!

He reached for the doorknob to close it, but stopped. What if her keys are inside?

No Roy, she probably took them with her. Maybe she's just in the kitchen. I shouldn't be here anyway. He prepared to close swiftly and leave, but yet again doubted.

Still, she could have left them there in the desk. She'd be thankful if I prevented the keys from getting lost. She wouldn't like spending the night out of her room.

But maybe...

Ah, what the heck.

Inside he went, and straight to her desk. As always, Peach's belongings were neatly arranged, and the desk perfectly organized. Keys were nowhere in sight, but there was something out of place: a light pink sheet of paper, with a black pencil beside, and his name on top.

Don't read it, it is not yours! You did enough entering her room, now looking through her stuff?

But it does say my name... I wonder what she wrote about me...

No, look away!

Ah, she won't know, just take a peek.


Look, it's no big deal.


He glanced behind, and to both sides. Obviously there was no one, and the second floor was silent enough to assume she was nowhere near. He read quickly, and in one minute, he was already sneaking away with the paper in hand, leaving the door open as he found it.


She was humming some unknown tune, right out of the corners of her mind. Wether it was being created or remembered, she couldn't tell, but she often preferred to stick to her tune without a care. Satisfied stomach and merry voice, Peach skipped inside her room, ignoring the fact that her door had been left open. She flopped into her bed, thinking of what to do next while everyone was busy.

Then it hit her.

"W-where? Where is it!" She shot up and looked to the sides quickly, but everything was as she had left it. Except, of course, the desk. She walked to it and looked through every notebook, every space where it could be, and she found nothing.

She tried again, in hopes that she had overlooked something, but again she came out empty-handed. "Relax Peach, relax... breath... phew... okay, now what did I do with it?"

She walked in a circle in the room, struggling to remember. "I left it right there in the desk... yeah sure, that's why it's still there... maybe I took it downstairs... no, no, no, I didn't... but it's worth trying." She made sure her key was in her pocket, and strolled out.


He was humming. He had to do so in order to keep his thoughts' voice shut, and he was doing a terrible job so far.

Hey, stop the humming dimwit! Stop a bit and think... listen to me, damn it! What the hell do you think you're doing eh?

Roy sincerely didn't know. And he sincerely didn't care for that nagging voice's complains. The only thing he could think about right then was placing that paper back on Peach's desk and nothing would get on his way.

He reached the corresponding hallway just in time to see her rush downstairs again.

Nice timing.

He sneaked inside and deposited the questions and answers n her desk, right where he found it.


Peach sighed in defeat - no, in resignation, Peach was never defeated - and went upstairs once again. She begun thinking on the consequences of the wrong person finding what she wrote, and read it aloud for the whole world to hear. Oh, and the media... absolutely lovely.

What names would they give that nowadays? Fanservice?

She gripped the doorknob as if it were to confess who had been in her room, but the inanimate object refused. With yet another sigh, she proceeded inside The princess walked straight to her bed, fumbling on her dress slightly with each dragged step. Maybe she should go back to what she was doing before... no matches all day, what harm would it do to let herself relax?

As she was about to close her eyes and surrender to a short nap, her sight caught a slight pinkish line upon her desk.

"Ah, there you are..."

She stood up lazily and reached for the letter, shaking her head with a smile as she absently re-read it, just to make sure nothing there was out of place before she could burn it.


Does he like listening to me?

-Hey, I kinda do, but you do go overboard sometimes. That's okay though, you're funny.

Peach's mouth opened slowly and articulated mute syllables before muttering a short "...err."

She let go of the letter as if it had already started to burn and looked quickly around the room, finding nothing else out of place, although that wasn't particularly what she was checking. Door closed, everything normal, and no one around, as far as she could hear.

Well it had happened. He found it, he replied. What was she to do now? At the very least, she should finish reading what he had thought about it, maybe it was no holocaust yet. It wasn't often that Peach thought in such a simple manner, but in the time and place, she could not afford to mess up further.

She picked the piece of paper up carefully and sat back down at the edge of her bed, trying not to be too tense as she continued reading.

Does he think of me as one of his best friends?

-Sure, why not?

Does he worry about me?

-I'm worried now. Is it just me or are you asking way too dumb questions, m'lady? More than usual... kidding you, kidding you. I do.

Does he trust me?

-If you do. But yeah, sure... though I don't tell about what you write in your free time and you don't tell I took it from your room for a while works too.

Does he think about me?


At that answer, he drew a little arrow pointing the side, where he had scribbled specially clearly: 'You don't tell, I don't tell, not a single comment'.

She smiled a little, gaining a small feel of familiarity and continued in a more light-hearted manner.

If he ever cried, why would it be?

There, she squinted to notice, he had initially written 'that is so-', but had left the phrase unfinished, buried underneath more ink, and tried again underneath.

-Eh, I don't know. Really. Just bigass failures I guess.

And there he had drawn another arrow, pointing to the same as the previous one.

Would he sacrifice something for my well-being?

-Duh! Of course.

Does he think I'm different or special in any way?

-I guess. You're one of my bests friends for a reason, you know? Come on Peach, quit the dumb questions.

Would he like to stay with me... after this whole tournament deal?

-If that's what you want, it'd be great.

She stood up to search for a lighter to finally get rid of the letter, trying not to think much of it. Yet, it was all too confusing.

Initially she had worried about his reaction, but now... he had replied in a simple way, frank, and that seemed to keep her even more bothered by it, as if he hadn't understood what was the expected answer, the point of the questions. It looked like the most satisfactory answer he could've given, yet...

Well, what was it? What did I mean, if not that? It's alright; actually great, no?

She opened her drawer and pulled out a small silver lighter. She held it for a while, then let it slip away. Getting rid of the letter could wait, she didn't quite feel like it anymore.

...what did I mean?

"Knock knock!" A voice yelled from the hallway, without actually knocking on the door.

Peach rolled her eyes and walked to the door, opening it swiftly and already forgetting about the pink paper sheet that fell beside her. "Roy." She stated flatly, too tired to become nervous again or keep wondering.

"Princess Peach Toadstool. You didn't attend to my match eh... too bad, you missed a pretty astounding victory." He replied, standing up straight and saluting with a grin.

"Liar, I heard Kirby congratulating you for your luck with some bombs!" She laughed.

"Well how would you even understand what Kirby says...?"

Then, he eyed the discarded letter on the floor and flashed another grin. "Hey... I see you used my method."

Peach took a step to the side and slid the paper under the bed with her foot, pretending to shift her weight distractedly.

The swordsman decided to ignore her obvious avoidance about and went on. "It's copyrighted, pay up."

Peach smiled brightly and shrugged. "I don't say, you don't say. Don't go adding more things to a simple deal."

"Tsk, touché."

Both laughed lightly as Roy turned on his heel and headed down the corridor, with the princess close behind in comfortable silence. The carpet muffled the sound of footsteps in the already silent place; Peach skipped in her walking, making a light click noise with her heels. Soon, Roy came to a stop near the stairs.

The female beside him stopped as well, looking at him questioningly as he stretched his arms and stayed on place, leaning against the wall slightly as he stared down the stairs.

"Eh, I don't wanna go down. Too noisy."

Peach titled her head to her right and stood near him. "Alright."

Both looked down the stairs, watching as many fighters walked by, none heading up to the second floor for a while, pointing down and making small comments every now and then, which caused the occasional burst of casual laughter between the two. Seemingly no matter how much Peach worried every time her mind stumbled upon the wrong thought, things kept working fine as far as their friendship went. Indeed Roy apparently didn't mind it much, maybe he was on his way to forgetting it by now. And perhaps - no, definitely - it was better that way. She hadn't meant much with it either way, and even if she did it was no point now, since-

"Say, Peach..."

She snapped out of her odd train of thought. "Um, yes?"

"What exactly did ya mean with that... staying after the tournament thing?"

What did I mean, indeed?


She gave a small smile and looked at him. "Meant precisely what I wrote."

"...oh." With uncharacteristic quietness, Roy kept looking down. "Then..."

Come on, tell me what I meant.

He laughed and stepped back. "Y'know, you're right!"

Peach raised and eyebrow and turned around to gaze at him, urging him to go on. He looked at her in response, with his usual wide smile and slightly furrowed brow. "I'd like us to... well, stay together after all this..."

Guess that's it... She stepped forward to him quietly.

And in a blink's moment of distraction, Roy grabbed Peach's hand and pulled her back with him away from the stairs.

He sprinted back in the direction of the dorm, pulling the girl along. "We're friends after all, of course we should keep in contact!"

"Yep... that's..." She muttered quietly and paused, only to be pulled again by the redhead.

"Come on, let's go to Luigi's room for a bit, I'm sure he was watching my match. Can't wait till you hear about it, it wasn't a lucky win at all, haha!"

Preach nodded and followed, ignoring her hand on his and repeating his previous comment mentally.

Yeah, that's... just what I meant...


Well, that's it for the first story! Reviews are love, gimme some?

I've got a few ideas for more of these short stories, but any requests will be considered. Thanks for reading!