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Summary:

When Villager received an invitation to Super Smash Bros Wii, he didn't quite know what to think.

The world was a cold, heartless place that would capitalize on every opportunity to bring him down, tearing at his heels.

He was ostracized and harassed when he was young for things he couldn't quite control, to the point that it was too late to turn back. Now Villager was left with a choice- leave his current family for a more profitable solution? Or abandon a chance to support his family in order to stay with them?

Little did he know that he would have a taste of both in choosing one.

And maybe a little bit of love, too.

Chapter 1: Turning Over a New Leaf

Summary:

TL;DR, Villager whump

Notes:

Violence! Lots and lots of violence in this prolouge!

Wanted to get exposition out of the way so I wrote a prolouge that accidentally went over 9k words…

This will probably be the first fic I'll ever keep on this platform, since the past two I've made were really awful haha

I'll try to explain how things will work out in the afterword, but for now please enjoy ^^!

Couple of things that are important to know before you read is that this is NOT set in a game where Villager is the mayor. The village, or really town to be more specific, is a rather large one, with civilized roads and buildings. (Not a city though.)

Please be kind since I am still a growing writer!

(Edit! I fixed the issue! Yay! Now things that were italicized in my document should be here :]!!!!)

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

When he was very young, he had no friends.

 

Nobody to talk to, nobody to whisper his secrets to.

 

Certainly, he still had his mother. But she was too busy, too good for the likes of Villager, so she left too, leaving a poor, small child to fend for himself. Her only contribution for his pursuit in success was funding for his education, which she cared little about. She stopped by every once in a while, but it wasn't for his sake. It was only to check the mailbox to find any stray letters that had missed her flat in the far side of the city with her boyfriend, as well as to make sure Villager hadn't ratted her out to the cops for the little stash of marijuana tucked in the corner of the quaint house's garden.

 

Villager himself wasn't a bad kid- or so he considered himself. He didn't have anyone to talk to, so he'd fill up the empty void of the far too big house with his voice- singing, chattering loudly about his day, or even just grumbling loudly about schoolwork.

 

He didn't do the same things his mother or family did, like farm weed or smoke twice a day. He didn't litter or go to clubs like his older siblings did, or commit crimes or do anything shady. He was just a kid, after all, and tried his best to not let his family affect his decisions.

 

All he did was do his homework and mind his own business.

 

Unfortunately, his classmates didn't think so highly of him.

 

Despite his best efforts, they all gave him a stink eye every time he stopped by, flinging petty insults and being rough with him. Perhaps it was because of the faint smell of weed that stuck to his bag due to his mother's farm, or his ratty shoes and worn down clothes, or his far too happy and peppy personality which made a few students disturbed. All in all, they merely disliked Villager.

 

And sure, Villager was fully aware of their dislike. But they wouldn't really hurt him, would they? They're just messing around, right?

 

After all, who would want to harm somebody in such a manner in a peaceful town like this one?

 

//

 

"Fly me to the moon, and let me play among the stars~"  

 

A ten year old Villager trilled happily as he stuffed his bag with his notebooks and stray pencils scattered on the desk he had crafted himself.

 

He wouldn't call it an ornate work of art, but he was proud of the fact that it had served him for a little over a year. Definitely nothing to scoff at, considering his age.

 

The short, scruffy boy with the jaggedly cut bangs hastily checked his calendar, small hands scribbling messy words onto the tall sheet of paper. His wide, round eyes scanned his room for an item, lighting up when he found it.

 

He lifted a small potted plant from its nest by his windowsill and gave it a small stroke on its leaves, smiling fondly at it.

 

Villager attended "Wild World," a local elementary school that was united with a middle school just next door called "City Folk."  He personally thought the school names were a little cheesy, considering his classmates were all different species of anthropomorphic animals, but he didn't really judge.

 

Humming a bouncy tune and clutching the straps of his backpack, he proceeded to hop his way to school, dark brown eyes glittering.

 

Today was going to be a great day! He just knew it.

 

Taking his time enjoying the long path to the front gates of his school, he bounced his backpack twice before cheerfully walking in, an upbeat smile plastered onto his face.

 

He passed by Whitney, giving a short wave which the tall white wolf hesitantly returned. She talked anxiously to Diana, a purple deer, who merely laughed at whatever Whitney had whispered and gave her a comforting pat on the shoulder.

 

On the other side of the duo was Bam, a jock chattering excitedly to a very lax Beau, a bookworm. The two deers passed by Villager's excited trot and hesitated, before continuing their walk and endless discussion about-

 

"Volleyballs! I mean, haven't you seen the anime? I uh- shoot! I think it was called Haikyuu, or something, yeah!"

 

"Bam, as interesting as volleyball and volleyball anime are to you and me, i hope you know the bell is going to ring in a minute or two and our classes are on the other side of school."

 

Villager was blissfully ignorant of his fellow classmates' sudden hush hush whenever he rolled around, putting it off to their usual antics and dislike of him in particular. So when he turned the corner and bumped in a very tall figure, he paused the playlist that was on loop in his head and looked up, eyes wide with surprise.

 

A tall, mean eagle stood before him, a rough scar slicing across his beak and cheek, stark black feathers framing his face. His wings were turned into a cross armed stance, feathers a dark shade of maroon- or even black. Cold, brutal, and merciless gold eyes peered at him, his two cronies, a cat and a mouse, tittering loudly behind his large frame.

 

Villager had the misfortune of bumping into Obsidi, the middle school bully who found no issue in taking out his anger onto innocent little grade schoolers, unknowing of the dangers in the world.

 

"One…" Obsidi murmured, crouching on his knees to get to Villager's face level. "Didn't I tell you what would happen if you stuck your face anywhere near my vicinity?" The eagle spoke in a low, monotone voice, but the hidden threat was still there. The cat, who looked to be a regular siamese with a crooked tooth, jeered at Villager, while the dark green mouse pulled out his phone. 

 

He glared at Obsidi defiantly, but his confidence wavered as the eagle seemed to be in a very bloodthirsty mood that day.

 

Villager himself wasn't really sure why Obsidi gave him the nickname "One." It had little to no significance to him himself, and there was nothing that Villager could go off of that could possibly tell him. 

 

The thought was suddenly ripped away when Obsidi grabbed his wrist tightly, far too tightly, and leaned into his face.

 

"Answer me, One."

 

Villager jumped, flinching at the sudden movement and bracing himself for what was to come. 

 

"Y-you said you would… you would..." 

 

Villager's voice stuttered out when he saw the menacing glare in Obsidi's eyes. 

 

He didn't even do anything wrong! He was just on his way to classes, no big deal. Villager's eyes started to shift, looking for a potential way to evade the inevitable.

 

At this point, many of the students were starting to gather around the blockage in the hallways, clearly curious about what was going to transpire.

 

"I'm having a bad day, One. You know why?" The eagle chuckled, sending chills down Villager's spine. "A certain someone promised me a little thing- just a couple of smokes." His eyes narrowed onto Villager's face, the already frightened boy growing pale realizing just who had refused Obsidi's packs.

 

"See- I waited a little. Paid my due first, 'course, so he could get 'em. He didn't deliver. Good ol' Yellow. He's your brother, isn't he?" 

 

"Yellow" was the nickname for Villager's older brother. He quite enjoyed being reckless and driving around in his racecar, earning money on the side by helping out desperate kids like Obsidi or nabbing some of the sales mom gets. Despite his seemingly wide-eyed, innocent look, he's quite competitive and loves coming out on top. Obsidi knows just how much his family cares about him, and the answer was a flat null zero. Yellow would dismiss Villager even if he did run to him and complain about the bullying.

 

They all never did care, really.

 

However, even if Villager had a reason to defend himself, he was certain that Obsidi was going to beat him to a pulp regardless, and was already mapping out a quick and easy path out of the school in his head because of it.

 

Before Obsidi even got a chance to get in the first hit, the bell rang shrilly and cut through the tense moment. The students that had gathered around jumped as if they were pulled away from an immersive TV rather than a very real, very cruel situation. 

 

Villager let out a sigh of relief- at least he had a bit of time left to recalibrate and think of what to do.

 

Obsidi growled, aggravated at the fact his prey was snatched away just centimeters away from his claws, but his eyes pulled upwards into a knowing smirk. This immediately put Villager on edge, as if Obsidi was pushing a very sharp blade into his neck and was just about to slit his throat.

"I'll see you around, One. Don't forget."

 

And the eagle strode away.

 

//

 

Obsidi's threat sat with him heavily all throughout his classes.

 

Normally, his threats would be short lived and he would burn off his anger some other day, via bullying people for their lunch money or simply acting threateningly and taking pride in the fact that multiple students cowered in his presence.

 

But this time around, Villager was pretty damn sure that Obsidi wasn't messing around, and this worried Villager.

 

Obsidi had been pretty mad before, but why now? It was just a pack of smokes, right? What other possible reason could Obsidi be angry for to cause him to literally give him a death glare?

 

The thought plagued his mind all throughout his class periods, zoning out where he should have been taking notes, (and being scolded harshly by the teacher in turn.) He distractedly picked up what his classmates were saying, eyes still glazed over and deep in thought.

 

"... yeah but at least you aren't going to be spending time with her! Like- she's such a bitch!" A pink wolf named Freya said loudly, but was quickly hushed by Kiki, a black cat.

 

"Ah- Freya! I'd rather you not call her that!" Kiki spoke softly. "But I suppose she is a little bit irritating."

 

"Yeesh, be grateful you aren't spending the three day weekend with Stinky. I mean- it's all in his name!" A white cat named Merry chimed in.

 

The trio scattered apart when the final bell rang, and the room was starting to buzz about, ready to head home.

 

Villager jumped to his feet with a start, eager to get out of the hot, stuffy room. He quickly grabbed his bag, making a mad beeline to the door. The doorknob was so close, just out of his reach, mere centimeters-

 

"Wait!" Hooted someone.

 

Villager stopped.

 

He turned around to find himself face to face with Blathers, his History teacher.

 

All things considered it was quite a surprise to be held back by the owl, whose brown feathers were fluffed up in a prim and proper way. 

 

Blathers really didn't call out Villager all that often, though he is one of the nicer teachers on campus. His soft eyes and nervous personality completely threw off the fact that he was an owl- a predator known for their terrifyingly cold stares. But Blathers looked at Villager with kind eyes, and all of Villager's complaints left the window.

 

Maybe Obsidi would leave the school before he finished his talk with Blathers.

 

"Hoot! Come here, child." The owl gestured towards a seat that was situated next to his large leather armchair. Villager sat cautiously, still not quite sure on what Blathers wanted to say but not feeling at all in danger.

 

The two immersed themselves in conversation, Villager's initial worry now washed away. He hadn't really ever had such a… fun conversation with one of his teachers before, for they were always so quick to the point.

 

Blathers spoke meaningfully- he started off with little fun facts before teetering into the subject matter of his essay, (which he had noted how well he had done.) By this point it had been long past the school dismissal bell, and Villager was quite certain Obsidi would not be willing to linger around the school that long.

 

Sneaking a glance at the clock, Villager sheepishly coughed politely in the middle of Blathers's tale, making a point to make it firm.

 

"Sorry, sir. But I do think it's well past the time I should be heading home by now!"

 

The owl swiveled his head to the clock in a sharp manner. "Dear me! I didn't intend to keep you so long!" Blathers chuckled softly. "Well, I must say it was wonderful speaking to you, young Villager. Perhaps we should talk some more some other day!"

 

Blathers quickly ushered Villager out of his classroom and into the empty hall, clicking his door shut.

 

Villager let out a sigh of relief. Looking at the clock had told him how it had already been two hours since dismissal, which meant that what was essentially everybody was now at home. (Or that was the hope.)

 

Clubs were often held at the students' homes, since the school was so close to where everyone lived. Due to this, kids could just walk on home with no consequences.

 

TL;DR, there was absolutely no reason for anyone to still be staying after school. 

 

There's no chance Obsidi's still waiting for me, Villager thought smugly. He fastened the straps of his bag and set off to the large school entrance doors, ready to head home and just take a day off.

 

As he was nearing it, however, he heard a particular set of voices that stopped him dead in his tracks. 

 

"Come on, boss! Can't we just go home, the squirt's probably not even here anymore!" A high pitched, nasally voice called out, but was quickly cut off by an almost childish stomp.

 

"No." Obsidi's voice snarled. "I know he's still here, probably skittering around like a coward. All the school doors are locked save this one- there's no way he could have left already."

 

Villager took a step backwards, unwilling to engage with Obsidi and whatever he wanted to do. Why was he still here? Couldn't he have a day away from him?

 

Villager was about to turn tail and run, even though Obsidi had said how there "was no other exits open," but bumped into someone's feathery chest. 

 

"Hoo! Villager, I didn't know you were still here!" Blathers laughed while Villager turned pale as a sheet. Obsidi and the nasally voice, (the green mouse,) cut off abruptly, taking a look at Villager and Blathers.

 

"And Obsidi and Radley, too! It's been quite a while since I have last seen you two, you should stop by and say hi sometimes. What are you three doing, still here on campus?" He tittered curiously, head angling to the side in a questioning glance.

 

Villager was about to bump in, defending himself and forcing him away from Obsidi to have no correlation with him, but Obsidi beat him to it.

 

"Ah, mister Blathers sir," Obsidi said politely. His entire demeanor changed, the once angry and threatening pose now relaxed into a tall, respectful one, bowing his head to the owl.

 

"We were merely discussing our joint group assignment with little Villager here. He sure does try to escape our little meetings, though I can't seem to see why…" The eagle tapped his feathers to his chin. "But regardless, the Wild World and City Folk departments joined up for one week for our English project."

 

"Ah! Well don't mind me- I'm just heading on home. I trust that you boys will all leave before the janitor locks up, eh?" Blathers chuckled, unknowing of the panicked look on Villager's face. "After all- it is a three-day weekend! Kids like you should all be having fun in the sun, playing to your heart's content!"

 

Blathers continued past the three students, making a small wave behind him. "Take care, boys!"

 

They watched the owl get further and further away, until they heard the faint click of the main school doors clamping shut.

 

The moment Blathers was out the door, Obsidi turned swiftly to Villager, eyes alight with something cold- something dark. Villager was frozen, trembling like a leaf and gripping his bag strap so tightly his knuckles were turning white.

 

Radley, the green mouse cronie, grabbed Villager's wrists tightly, pulling them behind him. He was immobilized- stuck under the mercy of the large, imposing eagle. 

 

"Come on, One. Did you want to run away again? You like running, don't you?"

 

A swift kick to Villager's gut. Villager wheezed, doubling back but prevented by the tight grip of Radley's arms. Not again… Tears pricked his eyes, teeth clenched in a defiant scowl.

 

He won't show weakness to him.

 

"Nobody can save you now. I don't know what kind of deal you struck with Blathers in order to get your hide out of this one but it didn't work."

 

Obsidi pushed Villager's stomach with a clawed foot. Villager yelped, stumbling back and forcing Radley into the lockers from the pure strength of Obsidi alone, feeling heavily bruised and already very weary. His legs were trembling beneath his frame. 

 

Villager's head was snapped to the side- a punch to the face. He cringed, knowing full well that the hit would leave a nasty bruise.

 

Obsidi's forceful assaults grew swifter, every punch packing the eagle's own pain into it. Villager gave a startled cry as he heard a crack when Obsidi kicked his ribcage.

 

Villager struggled to stay upright, to stay alive . He couldn't give up- not like this. 

 

Another kick by Obsidi. He felt his foot erupt into an endless shower of pain and he screamed, the pressure blinding his vision and the tears that were budding on the ducts of his eyes grew into fat little drops, sliding down his cheeks as he wailed.

 

There was a little bit of blood trickling out of his nose.

 

Obsidi seemed to be getting more and more agitated with every hit based on his livid eyes growing more cold exponentially. His punches were still strong, but his arms were starting to shake.

 

He looked like he was about to explode.

 

"Listen. Tell your brother something when you see him next."

 

The eagle leaned down next to Villager's ears, his feathers cutting into his skin. Villager attempted to stifle his sob but failed, hiccups riveting through his body. 

 

He was so tired. 

 

"I'll fucking kill him," Obsidi snarled. " I'll beat him to death. He won't survive another damn day. He has to pay for the shit he's said, what he's said about 'ma, about sis." He lifted his eyes up to make eye contact with Villager and narrowed his eyes into slits.

 

" He'll fucking pay, and it'll be more than through goddamn money."

 

Obsidi was shaking now, shoulders quivering violently. His breaths were coming out in shaky gasps, feathers standing on end with his fists clenched tightly by his side. 

 

He took a wide swing 

 

A solid hit. Villager crumpled. 

 

A sharp jab. He lost his breath.

 

A painful strike. He can't feel his left eye.

 

One deadly hit. His stomach clenched nothing, forcing Villager to retch his empty stomach.

 

Strike one.

 

Strike two.

 

Strike three.

 

An out, but returned with twice the amount of vigor.

 

At this rate, Villager was incapable of supporting his own weight, his arms far above his head still held by Radley. The green mouse seemed just as frightened as Villager was, his eyes wide with worry and his own frame shaking with fear.

 

Obsidi grabbed the collar of his shirt, pulling him up into the air. With one hand, he snatched Villager's small canary yellow bag and thrust it onto the floor, the contents spilling out into a wide fan. He pried open the locker that Radley had initially been leaning against and shoved Villager inside ruthlessly.

 

Villager gasped, finally free from the torrent of blows. But feeling the closed, cramped space around him, his mouth dropped into an O and he leapt for the locker door which was now shut firmly in his face.

 

"P-please!" Villager stuttered, banging his fists on the door- the first words he had spoken since Obsidi's flurry of punches. At this point, the tears on Villager's face were turning into a downpour, an ugly expression plastered onto his face while he peered desperately through the locker's grates.

 

"Let me out- please. Please, please, I'll do anything. I can't- you can't keep me in here for three days. I'll die I'll- please please!"

 

His desperate sobbing was now turning into yells, palms pressed against the door. He could see the two animals on the other side, their expressions unseen but their eyes seen clear as day.

 

Stoic, gold eyes.

 

Terrified black dots.

 

Then they left. Just like that.

 

They left him alone in the locker. After most likely breaking several bones and causing a great amount of internal bleeding and bruises, they left him for dead.

 

They left him alone in a large school for three days with no way to contact anybody, (not like they'd come,) and left his only ways of finding help just out of reach, tantalizingly close.

 

They left him with nothing. They left him with nobody.

 

They left him with only himself, his wild, racing thoughts and his trembling legs and his broken, choked breathing barely passing through the ten year old's lungs as he heaved and heaved but couldn't get anything out.

 

"Help me!" He screamed. "Help me, somebody please!"

 

But his cries hit empty air, and nobody came.

 

He persisted. " Please, somebody, I'm right here, I need help, somebody come and help me-"

 

His sob choked him, arms now laid by his side defeated.

 

"Please…" he whimpered.

 

"Where are you?"

 

//

 

One hour had gone by.

 

It had felt like a year, but it was only the beginning of Villager's trial against his endurance.

 

Two hours.

 

Then three.

 

Then twelve.

 

And finally, a full day had passed by.

 

Villager had spent the first twelve hours yelling himself hoarse, voice cracked and worn down with overuse after pounding his now aching fists against the wall. His body screamed for medical attention, his bloody nose having stopped a long time ago. 

 

Belatedly, he realized that nobody was at the school, so it was unlikely that anybody would come in the first place.

 

He persisted regardless.

 

When rays of red light started to peek through the cracks, Villager searched the dim locker he was in for any items that could potentially help aid him. A few loose sheets of papers and what he thought was a wad of gum later, (yuck!) He pulled out a half empty bottle of water as well as a very wrinkled looking package of gummies. With a sigh, he opened the pack and selected a small red strawberry accompanied by a little grape. 

 

Popping the two chewy snacks into his mouth, he hesitated on opening the bottle of water, but his parched and hoarse throat said otherwise. 

 

He took a little sip of water.

 

It turned into a draught.

 

Not realizing just how much he drank, he jerked the bottle away from his mouth and stared in horror at what was left of his only source of fluids for the next few days.

 

A small sliver of water sat on the bottom of the bottle, lit up by the dim light from the setting sun.

 

Villager capped it and set it aside. He'll drink what was left once daylight struck.

 

He slept in an uncomfortable position, sitting on the bottom of the locker in a fetal position, small arms wrapped around his short legs.

 

He cried and cried and cried.

 

"Please…" he said in a small, small voice- almost too small to hear.

 

"Help me."

 

But nobody came.

 

//

 

It was a beautiful early Monday morning, and Gulliver was a happy sailor.

 

The sun was barely peeking over the mountains, few townsfolk up to bat on rising up so early.

 

He worked as a janitor at a joint school to earn money for his slightly run down boat, but he didn't hate the job. Rather, he quite enjoyed it! What with the energetic children and kind teachers- they were all nice folks, nice folks indeed…

 

Sure, there were the unfortunate kids and the big mean kids and the unassuming teachers, but every school had them! He was always available to put a stop to any injustice he saw, for Gulliver was a noble gull. 

 

Why, he had to assist a short kid with choppy brown bangs recently, helping him pay for his lunch after he had presumably lost his card. (Gulliver found it tucked behind the condiments bar, of all places!)

 

Whistling a jolly tune, he mock tap danced his way to the school doors, rattling the lock with the rusty key and pulling it open after a satisfying *Click!*

 

After rummaging around the janitor's closet and pulling out the mop and bucket, he continued along his path and started to dip his mop into the cleaning solution, making quick, reflexive pushes at the tiled floor.

 

As he flicked the lights on for the next hallway, however, he paused momentarily.

 

A lone, open canary backpack sat pathetically off the middle of the hallway, pencils and notebooks scattered as if they were thrown onto the ground.

 

Feeling a bit unnerved, Gulliver let his mop rest on the wall and made cautious steps towards the bag, suddenly feeling as if he were in a horror movie. Now toe to toe with the obviously kid-sized pack, he crouched down and shuffled around the inside, searching for some sort of identification.

 

He found it on a little plastic school lunch card, which looked beaten and scratched as if a lot of hands were on it. A little boy's face sat on the card, the name a bit muddled but still visible enough to read.

 

Villager. 

 

Looking a bit closer to his surroundings, he noted the angle at which the items flew out of the bag and raised his eyes slowly to a tall, lone locker, sitting innocently among the plethora of other lockers.

 

He noted the small dent on the locker where a small child's head would likely be able to reach.

 

With bated breath, he jiggled the locker's door and cursed after realizing it was still shut tight. 

 

Sliding a mildly crumpled piece of paper out from his pocket, he quickly scanned the locker number and muttered under his breath. Finding what he was looking for, he shoved the paper in his pocket and slowly slid the combination in place.

 

27.

 

10.

 

10.

 

He pulled the locker open and was immediately pushed down by a sudden weight, letting out a squawk of surprise as the body of a boy simply crashed into the seagull's frame.

 

He pulled the boy from his chest and gasped at how pale he looked, dark purple bruises marring his face and healed over scabs and cuts covering his arms and knees. His left eye had an awful bruise, various injuries scattering the boy's complexion. His clothes looked crumpled and smelled awful, as if he were stuck in the locker for an extended period of time, (which Gulliver was now realizing might have actually been the case for the young brunet.) His foot looked absolutely awful, not facing the right direction and tilting in an odd angle. He was barely standing at all, and judging from how thin he looked Gulliver could only assume that the boy had essentially nothing to eat nor drink for the time period he was in the locker.

 

He was snapped from his disbelief by a small, dry cough, the weak boy twitching in the gull's arms.

 

With great care, (and making sure his injuries were not fatal,) he gently laid the boy against the locker, making note of the small crumpled water bottle, (with some miscellaneous liquid stored in it,) the scattered paper stained with blood, an empty wrinkled bag of snacks, and the fact the inside of the locker door was scratched up and had a minor dent curling inwards on the inside, which was what lured Gulliver to opening the locker in the first place.

 

He quickly yanked out his phone and dialed 9-1-1 as quickly as he could, shuddering wings pressing the phone to his ear while the clock ticked by.

 

He took one last glance at the barely breathing boy's face and squeezed his fist.

 

Who would have done such a thing to a young, ten year old boy?

 

//

 

Villager didn't talk.

 

It had been two months since Villager had been pulled from the locker, and he still wouldn't talk to the interrogators about who had trapped him in the first place and why.

 

"His larynx should be in working order," a tall woman with orange hair pulled up into a ponytail walked around the room anxiously. 

 

"We've given him a sufficient amount of fluids and medicine to help sooth his inflamed throat, and have set up a dietary plan for when he leaves the hospital. Despite his extreme dehydration and lack of food, we've managed to stabilize the level enough to ensure he is alright."

 

"Okay, has he had any visits from any family members as of yet?" A slightly shorter man with a buzz cut held a clipboard in his hands, scribbling madly onto a sheet of paper.

 

"No," replied the ginger. "His mother has not picked up the phone nor has she responded to our emails, and his alternative contacts aren't responding either."

 

The two nurses walked out of Villager's room, leaving the boy to himself and the constant beeping of the heart monitor.

 

To say that being trapped in a locker for three days straight was unpleasant was a vast understatement. For the little ten year old boy, the experience was beyond traumatic, forcing the once energetic child to be cold and distant around figures he should be trusting, (like the two nurses that kindly oversaw his recovery.)

 

Villager stared blankly into the room's walls, mouth not uttering a single word, eyes zoned out and blank. A distant ache filled his bones as he shifted slightly in his bed, but he shrugged it off.

 

Leave it for future Villager.

 

He knew he was in bad shape when he was dragged in by the nice janitor man, but he didn't really pick up everything they were saying. His head hurt too much to listen, and the little pricks of the needle poking into his skin didn't affect him at the time of the testing. What he did hear were faint words of "broken bones" and "low levels of nutrients," plus a big word that made Villager clutch his head violently.

 

He thought about his family- what shenanigans they were up to. Big brother "Yellow" and just what he had said to make Obsidi so angry.

 

He stared distantly out the window, hands folded neatly in his lap.

 

He did not utter a single word.

 

//

 

As the days turned into weeks and the leaves started to fall from the trees, Villager continued to live alone.

 

The house was now dusty and cold, empty and unforgiving. He didn't care, and he was pretty damn sure that his family wouldn't either. 

 

His once positive and optimistic personality morphed into some sort of pessimistic, angsty one as he lived his life boiling the pot where all his grievances laid. 

 

Obsidi never apologized for what he had done, despite Radley ratting him out. He was expelled from the school, Villager not being his first offence, and he never saw the eagle again.

 

Big brother "Yellow" did stop by once, only out of obligation due to nobody checking in on him. He had a lit cigarette in one hand, driving an expensive looking car in the other. 

 

He talked about how Obsidi had been so "bitchy," as he put it, and was always very emotional whenever the two had to exchange their goods based on their deal. Yellow had soon learned that Obsidi's parents went through an absolutely nasty divorce, the mother digging herself into a ditch of debt and alcoholism.

 

Case in point, Obsidi had been greatly affected.

 

The eagle had nobody to turn to, nobody to trust. (Yellow had stated those words as if Obsidi was meant to be pitied, but his face had upturned into a cold, cruel smile.) So eventually, he had turned onto Villager, throwing his pent up rage and frustration onto his little "punching bag." 

 

Yellow had laughed mockingly, making little fake squeals of pain, expecting Villager to respond hotly, but to no avail. The boy had simply stared at him, expression blank and emotionless.

 

Yellow had left as quickly as he came, the entire conversation feeling like it had passed in a minute. Really, the time taken for Yellow to relay the information to Villager probably did take a minute, for the high speed racer was eager to leave as quickly as he could.

 

And as he watched the car's toxic fumes rise into the atmosphere, Villager realized how he had never felt just as alone as he did right now.

 

With a put off sigh, he turned and shut the door to the dim house with a soft click, feet pattering on the stairs and crashing into his old, worn down bed.

 

Eyes half closed, his thoughts drifted off in small puffs, feeling sore and tired.

 

Maybe tomorrow would bring more good than bad.

 

// Two Years Later //

 

Villager stumbled in the crevice between two tall buildings, the sun barely reaching in the narrow passage. His arms were covered in scratches and bruises, a bit of blood trickling out of a scrape on his knee. 

 

"Look at 'im! Think he has any fight left?"

 

"Nah, let 'em be. We got the money, we don't need the cops after us too."

 

With sharp cackles, the gang members revved their motorbikes and drove off, leaving a beaten, moneyless, and bruised Villager in the dusty alley.

 

He coughed, the now 12 year old boy brushing off the dirt from his arms and staggering upright, but ultimately failing as he collapsed back onto the cracked pavement.

 

As darkness fell, maybe it would claim him, too.

 

Villager woke up to the cold stone floor and a bitterly chilly midafternoon. The sun was hovering above the mountains, deep shadows etching onto the walls. Shuddering madly, he shakily wrapped his cold hands around his shoulders, hoping what little body heat he had could help warm himself up.

 

He tried to bring his knees to his chest, his puffs of warm air and chattering teeth  feeling all too loud while his legs twitched and jolted madly in his hands.

 

Burying his cold, cold, cold head into his freezing knees, he shuddered again, body never stopping for even a moment, always shaking.

 

A hot, burning drop started to form in his eyes. 

 

Scalding, thick tears fell sloppily from his face and onto his knees, sniffling and crying while the cold wind snapped at his bare skin like whips.

 

He didn't even look at the existential dread of his lost possessions and location, too lost in his misery to hear its bays of attention, nor the pattering of footsteps that approached ever closer to Villager. 

 

"Hey kid." A gruff voice called out to him from above. 

 

Villager quickly stopped the noises, carefully peeking through his arms to see who he was dealing with and how fast he would need to run.

 

A short, portly tanuki stood before him, covered in a thick sweater vest with his hands stuffed in his pockets. His eyes were heavily lidded, as if he hadn't slept in days, and his nose jutted out prominently.

 

"It's pretty cold. What are you doing outside, with no parents and wearing just a tee and some shorts?"

 

Villager blinked, still processing what the raccoon had said. He shrugged in response, the figure a little hard to see through his violent shivers.

 

"The weather's going to get worse, you know." The raccoon held out a paw as an offering to Villager. "If it's alright with you, why don't you warm up in my little shop? It's not all that far away, and the fire's already started."

 

Villager's eyes widened, genuinely surprised at the kind offer of hospitality. He blinked, considering the offer, but quickly accepted.

 

He would really rather keep all of his limbs rather than lose them to the cold, even if it was a bait to something worse.

 

What was there to lose?

 

Taking the tanuki's outstretched paw, he struggled to pull himself up, his muscles frozen from the time spent in the cold.

 

He began to hobble beside him, hands clenching his arms tightly. He started to run out of breath even with the average paced walking they were doing. 

 

"I'm Nook, by the way," the stranger said. "Tom Nook."

 

Tom gave him a little side eye, as if inquiring for Villager's name, but Villager didn't see it for he had stumbled on his own feet, crashing to the ground with a soundless thump.

 

Effortlessly, Tom grabbed Villager's arm and pulled him upright, allowing Villager to lean on his stout figure. Sharing their weight, the two approached a shabby, small shop with a charming blue-red color scheme. A large sign with the words "Nook's Cranny" was plastered over the door, a little jingle being heard as they walked in.

 

The heat was felt immediately, the fireplace crackling and warm. A rather simple interior greeted Villager, rows of tables with furniture or clothes or everyday materials sitting by or on top.

 

Tom left Villager to stand on his own, the boy hobbling his way to the fireplace. Sitting on the stool provided, he leaned into the deep warmth, eyes fluttering shut in a brief moment of calm.

 

He felt a tap on his back.

 

Jumping, he swirled around, eyes wide with alarm, but quickly relaxed realizing it was only Tom, who had a thick, wool blanket in his paws.

 

Letting him drape the warm thing onto his back, he visibly relaxed, shivers and shudders now slowly dying down in little twitches. Villager's eyes stayed glued onto the fire, the dancing flames entrancing him into staring longer.

 

He hadn't realized he was leaning into it until Tom cleared his throat loudly, causing Villager to slam back into his stool in surprise.

 

"Never did get a name from you, kid. Have any family, any friends I can contact?" Tom asked.

 

Villager stared at him for a moment, opening and closing his mouth. He attempted to push sound through his throat, but the feeling of unease and discomfort forced him to shut his mouth. 

 

He made a writing motion with his hands, of which the tanuki took a couple of tries guessing. With a notepad and a pen eventually handed to him by the sheepish raccoon, he began to scrawl out words and short sentences, separating them by little tics.

 

'-My name is Villager. I have no friends or family.'

 

The tanuki frowned, tilting his head ever so slightly to the right. "No friends or family? How about guardians, then? Any adult figures you can contact?"

 

'-No.'

 

Villager briefly considered Blathers, but worried about how the scholarly owl would react to having him dropped off at his home. 

 

He wasn't going to take his chances.

 

"Right, kid. Well, do you live nearby at least? Or have shelter or somewhere to stay?"

 

Villager paused for a moment to think of just how far he was from home.

 

He had initially set out from his carcass of a house to have some fresh air and enjoy the start of winter, but a surprise had him detoured and knocked out cold.

 

He had been walking around the perimeter of the town, and was ambushed near the other side of it, which meant that he was pretty far off from home. Night would fall by the time he was halfway there, and he was worried about another assault.

 

'-I live on the other side of town. I'm not sure if I will be able to reach it before nightfall.'' 

 

Villager sat with bated breath as Tom rubbed his chin, expression thoughtful.

 

"I see. Well, then I suppose you can stay with me for the night. I haven't hosted anyone before in my home, so do forgive me if anything is messy or uncomfortable." The tanuki stood, popping his spine and facing Villager.

 

"Give me a moment to prepare a space for you to rest in, as well as some medication for your wounds. It will be a bitterly cold night, and there are no heaters here except for the fireplace. I want to make sure my guest does not freeze to death, yes yes."

 

He pulled off his sweater and tied a little blue apron around his waist, going into a room tucked in the corner of the shop, the door clicking shut behind him while rustling noises were heard.

 

Villager stared blankly at where Tom just was, zoning out deep into his thoughts.

 

Nook's Cranny was clearly a little run down and beat up, judging by the weathered wood and crooked foundation, the items inside looking second hand and a little roughed up.

 

If he were to assume, he would think that the shop owner was running low on funds, every action using money bringing him closer to bankruptcy.

 

But to think a tanuki like Tom, who wore a modest stained blue apron and had heavy bags under his eyes, a little too formal yet very warm in his personality, had welcomed him into his home. He had a chance to walk by, but reached out a paw instead. He used his own materials and is even offering up his home for Villager to sleep in, which warmed his heart much more than the fireplace did.

 

He had a lot of thank you's to write out to the tanuki.

 

Tom returned with a folded blanket and a bamboo mat, a little rectangular pillow nestled on top. A first aid kit was tucked under his arm. Placing the items by the fire, which was now at a dull roar, he unrolled the mat and set the blanket aside, encouraging Villager to put the thick wool blanket aside, which he did.

 

"I know it isn't much, but it was either this or the stone cold floor. I usually use this mat to sleep on, but I'll have to resort to my extra blankets in order to keep out the cold." 

 

Feeling rather touched, he felt a little sniffle come out from him, rubbing his eyes with his thin fingers.

 

Tom looked startled, a little confused as to why Villager had suddenly started to sprout tears. "Kid- why are you crying? Is it not to your tastes? If you'd like, you could take the cushions I've set up for sale, but I'll need them back at the end-"

 

Villager shook his head, a little smile gracing his still wobbly lips. Dragging the notepad out from under his stool, he scribbled a little note and showed it to the tanuki, whose eyes widened a tad bit.

 

'-I'm crying because you offered me a home. I haven't felt this way in a long time. Thank you.'

 

The note was short and sweet, but Tom looked just as touched as Villager felt, the tanuki's eyes curling into a happy upside down U shape.

 

"'Course kiddo," he said fondly. "You're my guest. I'd never let a guest suffer, 'specially in weather like this, yes yes." 

 

Villager tended to his wounds while Tom spread out the mats and blankets, the boy making little hissing noises as he pressed the cotton ball covered in alcohol onto his cuts and bruises. 

 

Villager crawled into the blankets in the shirt and shorts he was left in the cold with, having no change of clothes to go into. (Tom's were far too big, and the clothes he had hung up on the racks were either too small or too big.) With his eyes peeking out from the blanket, he made a little glance towards Tom, who was setting up his own sleeping space by the dying fire with only two blankets and what appeared to be a relatively stiff piece of wood he was using as a pillow.

 

Catching his gaze, the tanuki gave him a little smile.

 

"Good night, champ."

 

Good night.

 

//

 

Villager had made it his routine to pass by Nook's Cranny as often as he could, whether it was to say hi on days where he was short on time, or to hang out and finish his schoolwork, even help run the shop while Tom was away.

 

Tom was his very first friend.

 

Through Tom he had met his second friend, Isabelle, a down to earth modest shih tzu that worked hard and was far too underpaid for her effort at her other jobs. Despite her respectful exterior, she has a very wide arrangement of words to choose from when in Nook's Cranny, but tends to stick to a colorful array of "Fucking hell!" and "Goddamn bastard!" to name a few.

 

She works at Nook's Cranny to help out, initially as volunteer work but she stayed to keep both Tom and Villager company. (She was very supportive and had rather interesting topics to talk about each and every day.) Villager was rather terrified of crossing her the wrong way, and considered himself lucky to call himself her friend.

 

There was Tom's ex, (and Villager's third friend,) Redd, who occasionally popped in here and there to greet Tom with a quip or two, more often than not featuring a very descriptive sex joke. (Tom eventually installed a "Redd Not Allowed" sign in front of the windows, which the kitsune ignored every time. The sign was eventually forgotten and treated as a side joke.) He would also often call Villager "cousin." He found it rather similar to Tom's habit of calling him "kid" and adding a "yes yes" to the ends of his phrases.

 

The two were rather cute.

 

At some point, Redd had asked Villager if he knew what sign language was, to which he said no. He had been using mostly pen and paper or gestures to indicate what he wanted. Redd had quickly taken Villager under his wing for sign language classes, explaining how while not many people knew it, it was still a useful language to learn.  

 

(This was how Villager had learned that Redd was fluent in sign, the kitsune commonly using it to irritate Nook through ridiculously descriptive statements which the tanuki refused to respond to, despite having a decent grasp of how to read it.)

 

Villager learned basic day to day skills while at Nook's Cranny, such as gardening or crafting furniture. Due to money being tight, the team at the shop often had to build their own materials or get items donated to them in order to have sales. It was tedious, but the hard work felt good to Villager.

 

It reminded him who he was doing this for.

 

He learned plenty of other skills as well, examples including but not exclusive to boxing, and harvesting lumber, those two in particular staying as his hobbies for the years to come.

 

As the leaves started to fall again from the trees, Tom brought two tiny twins that were squealing in his arms.

 

He explained to them how some cruel bastard had left them in a cardboard box with the words "Adopt Me" scrawled on, with nothing else protecting them from the elements. So he had taken them with him.

 

Tom had asked them if they would be able to help out in taking care of them, which Isabelle, Villager, and even Redd had agreed to. (Redd had wanted to call them Tom's Nooklings, but was quickly socked in the face by Tom before he could even finish his whole thought.)

 

Isabelle cooed at the two, agreeing only with the condition that she could take care of them at a certain time due to her overlapping jobs and school times.

 

Villager was in a similar pickle, still having to attend school and usually having a lot of injuries to accompany his way to the shop, hindering his efforts to arrive on a certain schedule. Adding on the fact that he was mute and still a minor, Tom decided Villager would help take care of the two while Tom or Isabelle was working the shop. 

 

Redd only came by occasionally and not on a day to day basis like Tom or Isabelle, so he declared himself an emergency guardian, in case nobody could show up. (For an ex, Villager really thought Redd was exceptionally friendly, and was rather glad he was, too. There were a lot of days neither Tom, Isabelle, nor Villager had time to nurture the twins.)

 

And as the seasons changed quickly, so did the twins, Timmy and Tommy. They quickly learned how to walk and were starting to get a lot more comfortable in the shop, their incoherent babbles beginning to include words like "Da." (Villager really wished he had a camera to take a picture of Tom's absolutely head over heels expression, a stupid smile on the tanuki's face.)

 

At this point in time, it had been a little over two and a half years since he and Tom had met, and yet it felt like they knew each other forever. He considered Tom a father figure, a tanuki who was determined and hard working with all he did.

 

Villager's sign gradually got better and better under the guidance of Redd, managing to hold and read conversations between him and the kitsune. 

 

Isabelle, the kind person that she was, learned a little bit about sign from Redd for Villager's sake, preferring to spell out her words rather than use both her hands to gesticulate her words. The twins started to learn early from Redd as well, and the kitsune eventually had to schedule different times for everyone to come to Nook's Cranny in order to keep everything organized.

 

The shop started to feel a lot more homelier, and Villager found himself at it a lot more often than his own home, preferring to head straight there immediately after his studies finished.

 

He smiled more. His eyes were a tad bit brighter. He was gaining his spark back. He wasn't as pessimistic anymore.

 

He couldn't think of any reason why he would leave the little utopia that he had formed with his friends and what was quite possibly his family.

 

And then a letter arrived in the mail.

 

//

 

  Dear Villager, (Animal Crossing,)

 

I am Master Hand, the host of an annual competition called the "Super Smash Bros" tournament, hosted every year, and we formally invite you to join our "Wii" Year, and potentially more afterwards. 

 

Our requirements in having an invitation is that one person(s)/ creature(s) has a significant development in their life towards something or someone important, (most often case being saving the world, side cases include self discovery or unlocking a form of an ability,) has a commitment or skill to what they do, (i.e. fighting, plumbing, ghost hunting, etc,) or has a wide arsenal or variety of skills which can be put to the test on other fighters or competitors, regardless of method of execution. (Examples include using a gun, a hammer, a vacuum cleaner, a baseball bat, your own fists, etc.)

 

We have selected you to join our ranks. Though you may be young, as well as a person coming from a more quiet side of the multiverse, we hope that you may find your way to us.

 

Should you accept our invite, we request that you send us a letter back with a simple, straightforward response, and we will send you train tickets and a packing guide, as well as a newcomer's manual as soon as possible.

 

We would like a response before September of this year, and we will be expecting you to arrive from that moment on to November 21st.

 

Any arrivals or sent letters after that time will be considered invalid and you will not be able to enter the tournament.

 

Feel free to share this letter with those you wish to share it with in order to organize a proper response by due time. More information shall be provided once you accept.

 

Best of luck and well wishes,

 

Master Hand

 

Villager stared at the letter in his hand, a little dumbfounded at what he had just read.

 

"Smash.. Wii, huh?" Tom said, peering over Villager's shoulders. "Sounds rather fun, doesn't it?"

 

Villager shrugged, still in shock at the invitation.

 

Smash Bros was a universe-wide tournament that picked up people or creatures from all across the multiverse. Animal Crossing, or the general area where he resided in, (his town was called New Leaf,) was in a rather tucked away corner of said multiverse. It was quiet, nothing really happened except for the occasional fight or scuffle.

 

There was nothing dramatically… entrancing about his town.

 

The fact that Master Hand, who was practically a deity,  decided to pick up Villager of all people really shocked him. 

 

He idly pulled out a little black card that was tucked behind the letter, eyes dazedly reading over the silver font.

 

Annual Payment of 500,000, unit may change depending on realm.

 

His mouth dropped into a wide 'O,' eyes widening.

 

That was a lot of money.

 

That would not only be enough to help fund for Nook's Cranny for a long while, it would also help with the twins and maintaining the house and-

 

"Are you going to accept?" Tom inquired.

 

Villager swiveled around, head almost nodding in a quick paced 'Yes!' But paused when seeing the expression on the tanuki's face.

 

It was sad- a little bit knowing, as if he were expecting Villager to just pack it up and leave, never looking back.

 

He swallowed the lump in his throat.

 

He had to take the opportunity. He wasn't quite sure how or why Master Hand had selected him of all people, but it was an opportunity of a lifetime.

 

But was it worth leaving behind his friends?

 

His family? 

 

Before his thoughts could spiral into a confused panic, he felt Tom's thick furry arms wrap around his shoulders in a deep hug.

 

"Kid," he started gruffly. "I've watched you grow, from a little squirt to the young man you are now. You're no pushover, you know?"

 

Tom chuckled, letting go of Villager and clapping a paw on his shoulder.

 

"You're a part of this family now. Don't you forget it."

 

Villager felt his eyes moisten, tears budding his eyes. It was his turn, now, to encapsulate Tom in a bear hug, crushing the tanuki in his arms.

 

An unspoken thank you was exchanged between the two.

 

A new future. A new path. 

 

And Villager knew he would still have his family behind him.

Notes:

Just stating it again, this chapter was mostly exposition, just wanted to put things aside before I dig into the meat of this story.

Strictly speaking I want to write a lot of action scenes, since it's Smash Bros.

In terms of plot and having an overarching plotline, this story is unfortunately not going to go that route. I'll write about Villager and how he interacts with the world around him, as well as how he deals with it.

If I wrote anything inaccurate about his sign language, (or his game,) in any which way, please tell me!

Wild World + City Folk: An Animal Crossing game which had you play as a citizen of a town. In this story it is used as a school.

New Leaf: An Animal Crossing game where you play as the mayor of a town. In this story, it is the name of the town in general where Villager lives in, his "state," being Animal Crossing.

Obsidi: An original character I made just for this chapter and/or for potential callbacks. He is a golden eagle, (the species.) I didn't want to offend anyone by accidentally using their favorite villager, so I just made up my own.

(Even though this is Smash Wii, I'm going to use the combat or fighting moves in Ultimate for more accurate fights. Only the Smash Wii newcomers AND everyone who was in smash beforehand is here, despite the Wii version excluding some. Newcomers to Ultimate, however, aren't here. Just a note.)

Thank you for reading! I'll try to make the next chapter as soon as I can!