Melee Academy of Higher Learning for Boys

Year Two

-Sixteen-

Author's Notes: Normally I don't put author's notes at the beginning of the fic, but I feel that if I put them at the bottom, the effect would be ruined.

I just want to take this time to thank the readers who have stuck with this fic from beginning to end, and to those who have reviewed this fic. I appreciate the time you're taking out of your day to read this, and I'm happy you're enjoying it (and even letting me know about it) as much as I loved writing it. This was a fun fic and I am saddened by its ending. But while this segment may be over, the overall story isn't, and so all will be continued in Year Three.

So stay with me, my fellow readership, until the very end of this fic (and perhaps into the sequel). And I thank you all once again, for sticking it out this long, for putting up with the long spans of no updates, and telling me how much you like this fic. It means a lot.

Disclaimer: I don't own the lyrics in this fic. They're from "Look at Us Now" by Sarina Paris, which wasn't written by me. I also don't own Super Smash Brothers Melee, which belongs to Hal Laboratories/Nintendo; Super Smash Brothers Brawl, which belongs to Nintendo; any other songs mentioned in this fic belong to their respective lyricists and artists; Resident Evil is also not mine. Stephen, Kweenetra, Nicholas, Gary, and any other original characters belong to me and were made solely for this fic.

-x-

Everybody believed we would never be.

Look at us up above,

We are so in love.

"So we have periods four, one, two, three, and six," Link said, his nose in the schedule packet they were given before exam week started. "Oh Farore, we have Mewtwo again today."

Roy said nothing as he slammed the locker shut, removing the lock from the door and pocketing it in his bag.

"...You're still mad, I see," Link remarked, folding the packet up and unzipping the front compartment of his book bag. Shoving it in there, he zipped it back up and leaned against the locker door, blowing a strand of long and very blond hair out of his face. He never realised just how long his hair really was, not like he really cared too much. Roy crossed the hall and sat on the other side, against the lockers there.

"I'm not sure just who you're mad at, really," Link went on, for he did not like awkward silences too much.

"You and him," Roy answered quietly, surprised he was even talking to Link. "You for ruining everything and him for ending it."

Link sighed and scratched his arm. "I'm sure Marth just needs some time to reconsider things. He's been under a lot of stress 'cause of graduation and..."

Roy shrugged, his expression indifferent. "He's not the only one with stress, I hope he realises."

"I'm sure that, once this is all over, he'll be begging for you to take him back." Link smiled encouragingly.

"And if he doesn't?" Roy's voice was as indifferent as everything else about him.

Link's smile fell. So much for trying to cheer him up. "Then he wasn't worth crying over in the first place."

Roy pulled his knees to his chest and rested his head on top of them. Enough about Marth already - he didn't want to keep talking about something that made him hurt so much.

"So did you talk to Zelda?" Roy asked, changing the subject. "I think she deserves to know about your...doubts."

Link rested his head against the lockers, his left arm resting on his knee, his other leg straight out on the floor so anyone could trip over it.

"I did," he said after a moment's hesitation. "She just stared at me and ripped the thread out of her needlepoint so...violently. I'm beginning to think all royalty do things passive-aggressively." Marth slamming his door last night came to mind.

Roy fiddled with his Melee Academy hoodie string, twirling it around his first two fingers as Link played around with his ID.

"So... Is she talking to you?"

Link shook his head. "I overheard her talking to Peach this morning. She's understandably upset, but...I thought she would understand more."

"Well, what did you tell her?" Roy inquired, still messing with his blue hoodie string.

Link ventured into the girls' dorms, nervous as could be, and just as brave. The Triforce of Courage etched into the back of his sword hand did nothing to make him feel any more courageous.

He knocked on her door and waited for her to open it, looking at the floor the entire waiting period. The door swung open and there was Princess Zelda, her expression miffed and her needlepoint in her hand.

Had Marth talked to her before he got the chance, ruining any chance of possible reconciliation?

Link could understand, of course. An eye for an eye - Link ruined Marth's relationship, it was only fair that he do the same to him. But he did not know the Altean prince to be spiteful. Perhaps Marth thought he was doing good by saying something?

"What do you want, Link?" she asked him, opening the door wider.

"To talk to you, Princess," he replied. "May I come in?"

"So she let you in," Roy said, interrupting Link's retelling. "Did she stab you with her needlepoint then?"

Link shook his head. "That comes later. Anyway, I sat down in one of the chairs available, and she sat back down and returned to her sewing project. I think it was one of Young Link's pants..."

Zelda stabbed the needle through the black fabric of what was to be Young Link's new uniform, stitching up a particularly troublesome hole.

"What is this in reference to?" Zelda asked, her eyes focused more on her work than on Link.

Link gulped and willed himself to calm before speaking. "...We must discuss our relationship, dear Princess."

Zelda's face did not express anything further, she just continued her handiwork under the extra desk lamp next to her.

"Marth mentioned something to me before," she stated nonchalantly. "His words made me think of our current..." She paused, as if thinking of what to say. "Our current state-of-affairs."

Link shoved his hands into the pocket of his Melee Academy Cheerleaders hoodie and sank in his seat.

"Do not take his words to heart, Zelda - he does not know our current situation."

Zelda threw her needlepoint down and faced him then, her mask of calm still in place. It seemed all royalty was taught to stifle any emotional showings.

"Then why will you not be frank with me, Link? Why are you speaking to me as if we are not equals, as if we're so...distant?"

"You talk properly around her?" Roy asked, shocked. "I thought in Kokiri Forest--"

"It rubbed off from Peach, Zelda, and Marth," Link cut off, waving his hand dismissively. "I figured that since she's my liege, I should speak in a deferential way. She and I are - and never will be - completely equal."

Roy shrugged. "And why should that matter? If you love her so much, Link, then status shouldn't matter."

Link snorted. "Really? I don't see how you would know, seeing as you and Marth are on the same level--"

"No we aren't," Roy interrupted. "Marth is a prince and I am a marquess's son. No matter which way you look at it, we are not equal. But I didn't let it bother me - I didn't care about his title. Love transcends all of that."

Link was silent then. "You and Marth are more equal than Zelda and I will ever be."

"Did you express this?"

"Of course. She was upset that I would let something like that bother me."

"Because once we go back to Hyrule," he replied, "I am your knight and you are my lady. I am not supposed to be an equal."

Zelda huffed. "So then why were you seeking solstice in the arms of Roy if he is a lord? He isn't on equal footing with you, either."

"There is a difference between a lord and a princess," Link remarked. "A huge difference, Zelda."

"And so you are jealous of Roy and Marth because they are more equal, and therefore more loving? What do they have that I cannot offer you?"

"I fail to see your logic, Link." Roy gave Link a questioning look, arms crossed now.

"Because something like status doesn't bother you, you're both accepting of it... Neither of you are afraid of showing your feelings for one another."

"Is Zelda a killjoy or something when it comes to showing affection?"

"Yeah."

"Then it's probably due to her upbringing," Roy said. "Marth was the same way. It...it takes a while for someone who isn't used to showing emotions to start showing them. You do realise that, right?"

Link closed his eyes and contemplated Roy's words. "...It's been long enough, Roy. Months."

"So then what are you saying?" Zelda asked, standing, her needlepoint at her feet.

"I'm saying that I want you to be open with me," Link replied. "As open as they are with each other. If we don't communicate, Zelda, the relationship is screwed."

Zelda stomped about her spacious room, the yellow carpeting receiving indentations from her heels.

"Link, I would be more than happy to hear what you have to say, but you're never around enough for me to say anything, to ask how your day was. It's you who's making the relationship suffer, not me."

"Then why not just pull me to the side and talk with me?" He wasn't understanding her logic. "You're not trying hard enough!"

"And then we had a big huge fight and that's when she stabbed me with her needlepoint," Link quipped. "I still have the marks from it, too."

Roy shook his head and sighed. "So she's not trying hard enough to communicate and you're looking for a more equal status when it comes to relationships. Just so I have this clear."

"Yes."

"Do you think you'll be more equal if it's with a guy?"

"It's possible." Link honestly wasn't sure. "I just...I don't want to feel left out. Zelda and I never really...dated. She was always so busy. I wasn't very happy."

"Then you should've broken it off." Roy was speaking as if he had experience.

"I was...planning to break up with her for about a month now. Apparently, so was she."

"Then why didn't you?" Roy asked, hands clutching his knees. "You realise this doesn't make sense. You break up a perfectly happy couple instead of dealing with your problems and breaking up a miserable one!"

Link winced as he was reminded once more of what he did.

"Do you think if I try to get you and Marth back together, it could mend everything?"

Roy stood then as Marth rounded the corner. "I think if you tried, it would make everything worse instead of better. Let's go, school's about to start for the day."

Roy made sure he had everything before he began walking towards the back staircase, the opposite direction from his ex-boyfriend.

"We have five minutes before English!" Link called after him, shouldering his fallen bag strap. He sighed then as Marth stared at his lock-less locker.

"He took it, didn't he?" Marth asked, opening the locker and grabbing his remaining texts.

"Took what?" Link asked, facing the prince with downcast eyes.

"My lock."

Link nodded as Marth closed it; something from one of the adjacent lockers fell off the wall and hit the metal bottom with a clank, probably a magnetic mirror.

"...How is he?" Marth asked, leaning against the chipped locker.

"Still understandably pissed at us."

Marth looked disappointed, or at least more disappointed than he looked last night. "...I see."

Link placed a hand on Marth's shoulder and squeezed it reassuringly.

"He'll be okay."

Marth sighed as Link left, running full speed past the bathrooms, and through the doors leading to the second floor of the new building.

I know he won't be okay, Marth thought. No matter how hard he tries to hide it, he's still hurting, and I'm the one to blame for it.

-x-

Roy tapped his finger against the desk as Mr. Georgeston passed back the exams, clicking at particular people's whenever the opportunity presented itself.

"Overall, you all did well. Individually, I'm afraid, is a whole other story." He placed Roy's and Link's exams face down on their respective desks, Roy staring at his lap and Link reading one of the essays stapled on the cork-board. It was a melodramatic story that read like The Young and the Restless, a soap opera he knew only because Peach watched it religiously. Some girl's boyfriend cheated on her so she cut him into pieces with an axe, and then her Rottweiler ate them when she mixed them in with the dog food. He turned away looking a little green in the face, holding his stomach as he tried to not barf up his breakfast.

Roy was looking over his exam, staring at the questions marked with an "X" over the number with particular interest.

"What'd you get?" Link asked, scooting his desk closer to Roy's, as they always did.

"An eighty-five," Roy replied. "Somehow I completely managed to screw up all the questions on Julius Caesar. What about you?"

Link turned his over and nearly bruised his chin from his jaw dropping. There, at the top of the scantron in red marker-pen, was "95". Circled and with a smiley face next to it, even.

"How the hell did you manage to get a ninety-five?" Roy asked, staring at the grade with disbelief.

Link shrugged. He was just as clueless. "All I did was doodle a flower pattern with the bubbles and...Wow."

Roy hid his grin behind his hand. "That's one for the fridge. Peach is gonna be gushing over it. We should show Marth--"

Link sighed and Roy went back to looking at his exam, focusing on the essays now.

"I'm sure that, if Peach puts it on the fridge, Marth'll see it." Just to be sure, Link double checked to see that he wasn't looking at it with the paper upside-down. That one time he thought he had a fifty was caused by his paper being upside down. It was really a five.

-x-

"Hey, Roy, guess what?"

It was after third period. Link walked out of his history class with such a triumphant-looking grin that Roy was worried he killed a man or something.

"What?" Roy asked as they walked around the corner of their shortcut to their sixth period class. Link produced a packet of papers and handed it to Roy. Circled in red ink was a one hundred percent at the top of the page.

"Are you sure this is your exam and not someone else's?" the general asked, stopping at the row of lockers before room 221.

Link nodded, his ponytail swaying back and forth violently as he did. "Turns out I'm not as stupid as I thought I was!"

Roy handed the exam back and slid the door of their Japanese classroom open, revealing Stephen and Nicholas, Kweenetra and Gary, and Mewtwo sitting at his desk with trademark newspaper and coffee-combo. Roy walked to his desk and sat in his seat, Link in his.

"I got a ninety-five on my History," Roy offered to the conversation. "A one hundred on my Journalism and Algebra exams, and I'm pretty confident about this class."

Link sunk in his seat. "I managed to pass Hylian, I can move onto Geometry now, and I probably failed this class."

Roy shrugged. "At least you'll have two exams to put on the fridge, right?"

Marth entered the classroom then, stopped in front of Mewtwo's desk, and dropped his textbook on it with a loud slam. Under his arm was a portfolio with a bunch of papers sticking out, as if they were messily shoved in there at the last second.

"You may take your seat, Lowell," Mewtwo said, not looking up from his crossword. Marth nodded, spun on his heel, and took his seat next to Roy. He didn't look too happy about something, from the looks of everything, as he slammed the portfolio on the table, opened it, and organised its contents.

"What're you angry about?" Link inquired, jamming the exams into his bag so he wouldn't lose them.

"Stupid valedictorian address I have to write," Marth replied, his fingertips massaging his temples, pen in between his index and middle fingers, as he stared at the blank legal pad. "I'm not very good at writing speeches."

Link and Roy threw him an odd look then.

"I know what you're both thinking," Marth said. "I'm a prince, I should be able to write moving speeches at the drop of a hat, on the back of a dinner napkin."

"Actually, I was thinking more along the lines of an envelope, but I guess a napkin works, too," Link said after a moment's pause.

The bell rang then, signaling the class was starting, and Marth groaned as he stared at the blank page.

"I'm doomed."

Roy grabbed Marth's pen and pad then as he said, "You're beginning to sound like Link now. Let me do it before you hurt yourself."

Marth stared at the lord with a quizzical look. He was stunned that Roy would even bother to help him, especially after what conspired last night.

"...Why are you doing this?" he asked as Roy put pen to paper and began writing something down.

"So you won't look like an ass in front of four hundred and two people, plus faculty and parents and what not," Roy answered, speaking more to the yellow pad in front of him than to Marth.

"I have your exams," Mewtwo said ten minutes after the bell rang. He put his paper on the desk, stood from his seat, and proceeded to the podium.

"Most of you are lucky to have passed. This is not surprising in the least since you are the least motivated bunch of students I have ever seen in my two years of teaching here. I won't name specific names, except Link's, because that is just too cruel." Mewtwo presented Link's exam to the class, holding it up like one of those game show attendants on the Price is Right!.

"I suggest that no one follow his example and not fill anything in except where it says namae in big bold hiragana, and I'm surprised he even got that far. This is what causes you to fail. Compare this with Marth's." The Pokemon then showed Marth's exam, which had a radically different grade.

"You should be striving for one hundreds in my class. An A plus isn't good enough if it isn't the full one hundred percent."

Link banged his head against the desk as Marth said nothing. Roy, meanwhile, was still writing the speech for Marth, and was about half-way done. The boy could write fast and concise if he was under enough pressure.

"Ninety nine point nine percent of you got a grade between zero and a hundred, but don't get your hopes up - some of you did only slightly better than Link." And with that, Mewtwo distributed the graded finals with the excitement of a rock. Roy's landed on his desk, a circled ninety eight in the right corner of the top page. Underneath that was his fourth marking period grade and his average for the semester.

"Hey, he has the highest average in the class!" Kweenetra shouted, pointing her finger at the red head's paper, her voice filled with the fury of the gods.

Mewtwo shrugged. "So what?"

Kweenetra folded her arms, her brow knit with obvious rage at such an atrocity. "I worked my arse off and manage to get the third highest! This is because I'm a girl, isn't it? Isn't it? I oughta complain to Mr. L. Hand..."

Mewtwo looked up from his resumed crossword. "Are you done yet?"

She stood then, palms face down on her desk top. Clearly she wasn't going to let the issue rest until she got her way. Or Mewtwo booted her out of the class. Whichever came first.

"I should start a women's lib. movement in this school. I want to be treated just like everyone else, dammit! It's because he's a guy that he gets the highest average! I get nothing! Nothing! Treated like dirt! Dirt! You made Stephen wear a strap-on and become a guy to fulfill your sick agenda! Well guess what? I will not stand for this!"

Mewtwo's head snapped up and he immediately used Disable on her, so she would shut up for once in her life. Once her body had slumped back down onto her chair and she couldn't move a muscle, he calmly went back to his word puzzle.

"First off, you are the only female in this all boys school. Therefore, you will be treated like a freak and possibly ostracised, because your parents are morons for sending their daughter to a boys only school. Second of all, your logic is flawed, because if I gave only boys high averages, Link wouldn't have failed my class and they would all be able to apply to the Japanese Honour Society. You can if you truly wanted to, because your grades qualify you. You have the third highest average, which is a ninety five percent and nothing to sneeze at.

"As for getting nothing and being treated like dirt, I think I made myself quite clear in my previous comments. I didn't make Stephen do anything, for I lack the authority to command him to do such things as become a female to male transvestite. Take that up with Crazy Hand. And as for 'not standing for this', you are sitting down, my dear, and that is where you belong. As long as you are in this classroom, I tell you what you can and can't do."

Kweenetra said nothing since the effects of Disable hadn't worn off yet. Stephen was amazed at the sheer audacity of Kweenetra's actions, Nicholas had a look of disbelief, and Gary had a new hero in his life. Link held up a sign that said, "YOU GO KWEE!", Roy was almost done with Marth's speech, and Marth was looking through his exam.

Link quickly grew bored of his cheerleading session and whipped his Nintenpod from his blazer pocket. Plugging the earbuds into his ears, he put on a random song and hummed along.

"I-wanna be the papa, you can be the moooom," he sang, doing a little dance in his seat. No one thought it strange, for this was normal behaviour you expected of him. It was a shame no one told him 'Temperature' was a sexual song. Marth honestly thought Link was implying something.

Roy shoved the pad of paper and the pen in Marth's face a few minutes later.

"Have fun."

"Look at us, baby, look at us nooow," Link sang after switching the song to something else. "We made it, baby, look at us now."

"Link, shut up," Roy said, covering his ears. Link ignored Roy and merely cranked up the volume to the point where people on the other side of town could hear it.

What the hell? Roy thought. Link listens to Sarina Paris? And why the hell do I even know the singer? Probably because she was on Roy's 2200 song playlist somewhere. Like everything else.

"He's going to end up deaf if he keeps it like that for long," Marth commented, reading over his essay.

"I think he's already half-way there, Marth."

"Shame he has to have everyone listen to his sappy techno music." Marth was amazed Roy managed to write a three page essay in the same amount of time it would take him to form one sentence.

Roy didn't think it was that sappy. He rested his head on his desk, his arms cradling it.

Remembering the time our love was not so fine.

Roy buried his face in his arms so no one would see. A few days before, Roy - whenever he would hear this song - would automatically think of his relationship with Marth. However, since their relationship exploded and his heart along with it, the song would do nothing but make him ache. Was Link trying to make his heart shatter again? Probably not. It wasn't like Link planned for the relationship to blow up into a million pieces of shrapnel.

Why me? Of all people, why me? He snuck a glance at Marth and saw him doodling on the margins of his essay, bored out of his mind.

And why does he have to be so damn beautiful?

-x-

Roy and Marth walked down the bleachers of the stadium in silence, neither knowing just what to say. There were many things Marth wanted to tell Roy, that he was a moron for letting him go, that he let his emotions take over the situation instead of his mind, that he felt the harsh tension between them and wanted it to disappear. He just wanted to take Roy into his arms and apologise for his hurting him, and his willingness to make everything right. But if he suddenly did these things, he might chase Roy away or worse - hurt him even more than he ever intended to.

Roy bit his lip, trying to think of a way to break the awkwardness between them.

"S-So how was the essay?" Roy asked, thinking that was a safe topic. The wind was unseasonably cold, and so Roy shoved his hands further into his hoodie pocket and hunched his shoulders when it unceremoniously blew through the stadium. It was always so windy there, but never so cold. Perhaps it was reflecting their current feelings? Roy didn't know.

"It was way better than anything I could come up with in a week," Marth answered, stopping at the railing in front of the bottom-most bleacher. Roy balanced himself on the lowest rung of the railing whereas Marth simply leaned against it, arms folded on top.

"You nervous about tonight?" Roy knew Marth hated public speaking, which was ironic considering Marth was the head of a country.

Marth made a weird sort of sound, like he was about to say something but then cut himself off at the last minute.

"A little," the prince replied. "I try not to think about it too much. Otherwise I get a little...sick feeling."

Roy, without a second thought, removed his right hand from his pocket and rested it on top of Marth's. He didn't even seem to register that he did such a thing until he wondered why his hand was so cold, and saw it there.

If he minded it so much, he would've shoved my hand off by now.

Another breeze swept through the stadium once more, tussling their hair and making Roy colder by the second. Normally, he would lean against Marth for warmth, but he figured that since they were no longer together, it wouldn't be appropriate to do so. It was an overwhelming temptation, though, and Roy had to fight against it hard to not act on it. It wouldn't do either of them good if Marth freaked out.

"You'll do fine," Roy said at last, watching various volunteers carry equipment onto the field for the graduation. One person was plugging a monitor into an extension cord, another was plugging some of the band instruments into a sound board connected to the aforementioned, so people would be able to hear them over everything else.

"...Roy..." Marth turned to him then, his eyes filled with unsettled intentions.

"What?"

"We...should talk about what happened."

Roy pursed his lips and scratched his cheek. "There's nothing more to say about it." It felt like an old wound was opening up again, the skin tearing along the scarred remains of the seam.

"There's plenty left to say," Marth pressed. He moved his fingers under Roy's chin and made him look. "I can tell by looking at you that there are things you're leaving unspoken."

"You hurt me," Roy said, pushing his hand away. "You wounded me and left me to pick up the pieces of my shattered heart." It was clear Roy was a writer, and if he wasn't one, he should become one instead. He looked back at the field.

Marth wasn't one to back down, however. He had a hidden stubbornness inside him.

"And I will forever regret that," he said, closing the gap between them. "But you have to tell me what you're feeling, what's on your mind, so we can fix this."

Roy shook his head. He wasn't going to cry again - he promised himself he wouldn't. He shed every last one last night on the bedroom carpet, right where he left the remnants of his relationship to rot.

"There's nothing left to fix." If only he could have kept his voice steady. "No amount of talking can fix us."

Marth clenched his jaw as he grabbed Roy's shoulders and made Roy face him.

"I am not going to give up on this just because I said some stupid words!" His voice seemed to echo throughout the stadium, and the volunteers peered in their direction.

"Words can hurt a lot more than you realise, Marth."

"I know that, Roy. I was never good at expressing myself in the first place, and this is one of those occasions where no amount of words can make up for what I said. Talk to me, Roy. Shout at me, spit at me, scream obscenities at me until you're blue in the face. Say something."

Roy took a deep breath then. Should he let it all out? Once he got started, it would be very hard to stop the deluge of feelings.

Releasing it, he said, "As tempting as that offer is, I'm afraid I must decline."

Marth was ready to throttle him, he really was.

"That is such bullshit," Marth said, swearing for what seemed like the first time (outside of sex, anyway). "You're hurting, Roy. When I said it was over between us, I might as well have flown to Pherae and murdered your father. That's how hurt you are right now, and don't you dare act as if you're not because I will keep pressing and pressing until you finally tell me everything."

"I'm good with managing my feelings, Marth. I've seen a lot."

"I've seen a hell of a lot more than you have, and don't you say otherwise. You didn't see your parents murdered right before your eyes, or nearly kill your own sister because some evil druid is using her as a shield, or have to deal with an ally betray you and then invade and destroy your country and treat your people like utter shit."

Roy blinked in quick succession. "...I never knew that."

"That isn't the point, Roy," Marth replied, trying to calm himself a little. "My point is that I've dealt with a lot of things - most of them not even good - so you can't tell me something as heart shattering as what you dealt with yesterday has nothing more to say!" He didn't care if he constructed the most poorly phrased sentence in the world, so long as Roy got the point.

"All right then," Roy said, after mulling Marth's words over. "I'll bite. Because of you, I feel like my heart's been irreparably broken by being thrown against a wall, stepped on, and then stabbed a few times for good measure. I feel empty inside, I feel hurt and betrayed. You might as well have spat in my face and thrown me to the floor and then you should've gone and killed my father for Roland's sake. And every time I look at you, I can't help but still love you, still want to be near you, even though it hurts and my heart bleeds and bleeds and bleeds. And though the stitches get ripped out every single time, I would still place myself beside you, no matter how much it hurt, because I love you."

And just when Marth was about to say something, Roy added, "But I still hate you, and I hate myself for thinking you're so beautiful, and that we're so right for each other."

The rest of the band's instruments and equipment were all set up, along with their respective owners, and four hundred and one students were congregating at the top of the bleachers.

"Now I've gotta go practise for tonight with the band," Roy said, before Marth could press any further. "That's all I'd have to do is screw up the music for tonight. Zelda would kill me."

He hopped over the railing and onto the track. He felt numb, oh so numb, and didn't feel the stinging in the soles of his feet from the impact as he walked over to the rest of the band. Marth watched his retreating back and sighed.

I will do everything in my power to make this right.

-x-

Marth took his place at the podium just as the last notes of Pomp and Circumstance played out, speech in hand. He set his papers on top of the podium and adjusted the microphone just as everyone sat down and the band rested their instruments. Link prodded Roy in the ribs and nearly caused Roy to beat the bass drum, earning a warning look from Zelda as she turned to face front again.

"What?" Roy whispered as he took his foot off the bass pedal.

"I hope Marth doesn't choke," was all Link said. Then, as if it were an afterthought, he added, "I wonder if he'll start the speech off with 'My fellow Nintendians'..."

Someone nearby snorted at Link's attempt at humour, and Zelda threatened him with instant suspension if they did it again.

"It actually begins with--"

"My fellow graduates," Marth spoke, his voice echoing through the air as he read the prepared speech. "Our four year sentence is up. It flew by fast, didn't it? It seemed like yesterday when we walked through those front doors for the first time ever, afraid of the unknown. We managed all right with our subjects - we had to have if we made it here - and found other things along the way."

Link prodded Roy in the ribs once more just when Marth paused to look at the audience.

"What?" Roy harshly whispered, ready to beat Link over the head with his drumsticks.

"I like the speech," Link said, shrinking into his seat when Roy threatened him with the aforementioned percussion objects.

"Mmm," was Roy's answer. "I always thought he should go into voice acting. He'd have millions of adoring fans saying how sexy he sounds."

"We found interesting teachers, friends, extended family, and some even found love," Marth continued, and nearly stumbled at the last part of the sentence. No one noticed the fear in Marth's eyes, or even the start of his nervousness.

"You added that part in there on purpose, didn't you?" Link murmured to his companion. Roy smirked.

"Damn straight I did."

"All of these things are things we treasure the most - the friendships, the courtships, the companionships we made - that we hope to bring with us into our futures. We've come such a long way, a milestone for many. But this is only one task we completed. The rest is up to you, my fellow classmates. We are the future musicians, authors, scientists, engineers, mathematicians, and so forth. We are to set an example for the younger ones to follow, a good example we can look back on and feel good about."

Link nearly fell asleep half-way through Marth's speech and had to be whacked awake. He almost managed to break his oboe somehow, possibly from him gripping it so tight in the fear that the Sharpie Thieves would come and accost him in the night.

When Marth's three page speech came to an end, there was an uproar of applause from students, teachers, and parents alike. Many whistled, others just clapped, and a few even began to sing Queen's We Are the Champions. Marth straightened out his papers and went to his seat right next to the salutatorian.

Everything else seemed like a blur to Roy, who didn't really care much about the ceremony anymore. Zelda was taking a crap load of pictures, even going so far as to swap to an empty memory card for her camera.

They went through all four hundred and two names for the diplomas, many shaking hands with the distributor, others giving air-kisses, some even flipping off the bird. After receiving their diplomas, the people moved their tassels to signify that they were now alumni, that they could piss "fuck you" on the side of the school and not care about the consequence of expulsion. Roy paid little interest to the awards, though Link seemed quite attentive. It figured that the top three students got about a million awards and people in the top ten percent rarely got any more than three.

Roy hoped that, when he graduated, he didn't end up as valedictorian. He didn't want to be called up every five seconds for a Best in a Foreign Language award or something equally stupid. Perhaps he was just feeling very bitter at that moment. He sighed; he was pretty bitter, but could you really blame him for feeling that way?

And just like that, it was over. Roy played an impromptu drum solo as Link played Taps on his oboe. It wasn't like anyone cared - everyone was congratulating the graduates and asking for pictures and wanting to see their diplomas and all two billion awards. Zelda was even bawling her eyes out when she ran over and hugged Marth.

Link pulled out a harmonica and began to play something rather jazzy-sounding.

I didn't know Link could play the harmonica.

And suddenly, Marth was there right in front of them, his mask of calm long gone by this time, for emotions were running high.

"Would you mind...?" Marth asked, gesturing towards Roy. "I have a few things to say."

Roy set down his drumsticks and got away from the drum set.

"Privately, I'm guessing," Roy mused as Marth began walking to a less crowded area.

When they were under the lone tree at the most secluded part of the track...

"I'm sorry," Marth whispered, almost being drowned out by the rustling of the leaves as a breeze came through.

Roy drummed his fingers on the crook of his arm. "That's all you have to say?"

Marth shook his head. "You're not giving me a chance here, Roy."

"Then say whatever it is you want to say so we can get this over with." He watched through narrowed eyes as Marth fell to his knees and reached for Roy's hand.

"It was wrong of me to...to hurt you so badly. It was wrong of me to just...throw what we had away instead of just listening to you, instead of thinking before making such irrational decisions."

As Roy listened, his eyes gradually softened, and he slowly relaxed his body. An apology for what he had done. A confession that he was wrong.

"I know it won't be forgotten easily, and forgiveness does come slowly to most, but...I love you, Roy. I want you back, I need you back. I... I miss you."

Roy honestly didn't know what to say, what to do.

"I stand before you, humbling myself before you, asking you not as the Prince of Altea but as your lover... Please forgive me for my mistakes, my lord-general. I am merely human."

Roy uncrossed his arms and gestured for Marth to stand. He didn't want Marth to beg or say such absurd and embarrassing things. Instead, he wrapped his arms around Marth's neck and captured Marth's lips in his.

It was a start, at least. Roy would have wandered back into Marth's arms eventually.

"Just promise me something," Roy said after he pulled away.

"Anything."

Roy rested his head against Marth's chest, the top touching Marth's shoulder, his hands rested there as well.

"Promise me you'll never hurt me again."

Marth kissed the top of Roy's head and rested his cheek there afterwards.

"On my honour," he replied, and embraced Roy tightly as the last remaining rays of light disappeared behind the tall buildings that made up their town.

He wasn't going to make the same mistake again, wasn't going to let him go again.

I know that you will stay.

Fin