Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

O~o~O

“I’m home!” Peach called out, wrestling with several bags of groceries in her arms.

She held on to everything as well as she could, but her pinkie was losing grip on one hand, and the door swung shut faster than she thought it would. The door struck her back. She went stumbling into the kitchen, fumbling with all the bags. Just as everything was about to spill out onto the floor, she ran right into the counter.

The bags all collapsed, but everything stayed on the counter. Peach blinked once and watched a lemon roll in a small circle. “Well, that was close.”

Certain that nothing was set precariously near the edge, Peach started picking out groceries from the rumpled mess of bags. “You know, the weirdest thing happened today.” she said, raising her voice a little to be heard. The milk and juice went in the fridge, the noodles and rice went into the pantry. She stopped short of sticking the ice cream in the freezer. “My shopping list had “ice cream.” I don’t remember writing down ice cream. But I bought some anyway; I kinda got excited for it.” She glanced out the window. It was dark, and late. Again. And cold, but at least she was indoors. Why did she buy ice cream if it was so cold out? “I’ll just make egg over noodles,” she murmured, shrugging off her jacket.

While she waited for the water to boil, she frowned at the slight noise from the living area. She must have left the TV on by accident before she went out for the day. Her favorite show was going to be on; the first rerun of the episode she had missed last week had played while she was at work, but she knew it would be on again at night. She cast a furtive glance around the kitchen. Then, slipping off her shoes, she padded into the living area, and crept up to the couch.

“Boo!” she yelled, and stood up with her hands in the air. There was nothing on the couch. The light from the TV danced in dim blue shadows across her floor. Peach frowned and turned to check down the hall to her bedroom. She stalked to the door, gently placed her hand on the knob.

She whipped it open and leapt into her room. “Aha!”

Nothing stirred. Her bed was made, her desk was sort of a mess like usual. The floor had been picked up before she left that morning.

Peach crossed her arms with a huff. “Playing hide-and-seek, huh? Well. I know how to find you.”

Back in the kitchen, she pulled one bag out of the fridge. She deliberately moved it while she closed the door, crinkling the bag, and then started to open it. The room quickly smelled of pepperoni.

“Mrr?” she heard from the end of the kitchen, along with the jingling of a little bell.

Peach grinned. “There you are.”

She turned to stir the noodles in the water, and turned down the heat so she could add in the flavoring. Something soft brushed against her ankles. “I know, I know, Pancake.” she hummed, gathering the little packets to throw them in the trash. “Let me finish making my ramen.”

When she managed to step around Pancake to throw the packets away, she grabbed the bag of pepperoni off the counter and sat on the floor. “Okay, alright, come here, you silly kitty.” Pancake was more than happy to saunter over to her and accept her offering of a single pepperoni slice. Peach giggled while he chewed at it on the floor. “You know, I’m not supposed to let you have these. They’re very unhealthy for you.”

Pancake continued to chew his pepperoni several more times than he needed to, and when he was done, he just looked at Peach.

Peach just sighed with a smile and gave him another slice. “Well, I guess you also know I can’t say no to that face. Chubby boy.” she stroked his back and gave him a scratch between his ears, before she stood to finish making her dinner. She knew Pancake would probably beg for a bite of her own food, as well. And she would happily let him have some of her noodles.

The ramen was about to boil over. Peach scrambled to take the pot off the stove, and sighed when she just saved it from spilling.

She finished up making dinner. Her food was warm, and would certainly help her warm up since the apartment was a little chilly. The TV was on, the dishes could be put off until tomorrow, and Peach sat down on her sofa to eat her ramen and stare mindlessly at whatever was on the television. “I’ll need to call Daisy soon. I will once the new episode ends.” she murmured to Pancake, who had leapt up to sit on the arm of the couch to watch her eat. “She’ll be awake by now.”

Peach sighed, and remembered she was sitting at her apartment, eating ramen, living alone. She felt a little sad, and set her fork down in her bowl to stroke Pancake’s face. At least she had Pancake to keep her company.

Pancake shut his eyes and rubbed his head into her hand. His purrs rumbled like a goofy little machine. “You big beast. You absolute monster. You chubby, chubby baby.” she pet him for a little longer, before she started to eat her ramen and watch the TV again.

The day caught up to her while she consumed meaningless commercials, waiting for her favorite show. A rubber tray that wouldn’t ever spill, because by golly how annoying was it to constantly spill your guacamole all over the floor? A blanket with sleeves! How cool is that? A set of the sharpest, most professional knives, that the most well known chef in the country used. And if you call now, they’ll double the offer, and throw in a free, exclusive, never-before-seen mug with a quirky kitchen quote. Who wouldn’t want it?

Pancake was persistent with his efforts to get her attention. As soon as she set her empty bowl on the coffee table, he clambered into her lap, purring insistently. “Silly boy,” she cooed, and he settled down, kneading the blanket she lay under.

In less than an hour, Peach was in tears. The episode was emotional, moreso than she thought any show ought to be. Of course, she knew the show was fictional, she knew that none of the characters were real, but she had to go and get attached and now her favorite character was gone forever. “Pancake,” she sniffled, and the cat rubbed his head against her chin with such force that she was moved backward a little. “What do I do now?”

Then, Peach remembered she had bought ice cream. Her favorite flavor, butterscotch, sat patiently in the freezer, all because of a bullet point at the end of a list that she didn’t remember writing. She was always forgetting things. Always losing track, always having to think to remember why she walked in a room. She could have sworn she hadn’t written ice cream, for how could she have known the episode would be so sad? Maybe it was just some last minute foresight.

“The old lady down the road is rubbing off on me, Pancake.” she sighed and wiped at her eyes while she got up to seek out her sweet, frozen comfort. “She’s always telling me she can see into the future. She wants to read my tea leaves and stuff. But what does it matter?” She returned with the carton and a spoon. No bowl. She was miserable enough, and no one cared except Pancake. The old lady probably saw this in her future. Peach sat on the couch, shakily eating ice cream straight from the carton, her dead and wet eyes glued to the screen that had ruined her night.

“Hey, Daisy, what’s up?” Peach shouldered the phone to her ear while she was trying to put on her pajama pants. Pancake had mysteriously disappeared from her room while she was getting ready for bed. She walked back out of the bathroom after brushing her hair to flop on her bed.

A yawn answered her. “Good morning,” Daisy groaned, and Peach laughed. “Hey, did you see the episode yet? What did you think?”

Peach stuck her free hand in the air, stretched out her fingers, swiping mindlessly at nothing. The edges of her eyes still felt a little cold, a little wet. “Eh. It was okay, I guess. The plot was a little dry.”

Daisy scoffed on the other end. “I know, right? I mean, what were they thinking? Obviously they’re getting desperate to shock the audience with whatever they can. That little bit at the end there was clearly an ex machina, and relating it back to the first episode was cliche and not very well executed.” Daisy went on about the devices and mechanics of the show, and Peach agreed at all the right times. She wasn’t sure how to tell Daisy that sure, the show had flaws, but she still enjoyed it quite a lot. It kept her on the edge of her seat, it drew her in to characters who she liked and related to, and the plot was long but she liked keeping up with it.

Finally, Daisy’s rant trailed off, and she yawned again. Peach could hear running water in the background. “So how’ve you been?” Daisy asked, and Peach knew by her voice that she was brushing her teeth.

“Oh, I’ve been good! The same old, you know. I had some friends over after work.” Peach looked around her room, to the door that led into the living area. She hadn’t had people over since she moved in. She wasn’t even sure if anyone she knew at the village could count as a friend, maybe the old lady, or her boss. Except she could never remember the old lady’s name because it was a little hard to pronounce. “The old lady down the road is trying to tell my fortune again. She keeps insisting she knows something about my love life.” she smiled at the ceiling.

She heard a choking sound, and realized Daisy was laughing. “Just a moment,” she said, and Peach smiled when she heard clattering and water. Finally, the phone was picked up again. “Sorry about that. So the old lady? She wants to predict your love life?”

Peach found herself shrugging, and then remembered Daisy couldn’t see her. “I guess. She wants me to look into her crystal ball and tell her what I see. Every day, she asks what I dream about so she can interpret it.”

Pancake leapt up onto the bed with Peach, and she scratched his head. She smiled at him, and listened to Daisy chuckle on the other end, halfway across the world.

“I think you should do it.” Daisy said, and for a split second, Peach thought she was serious. “I think you should just indulge her. You said there weren’t very many people in that village over there, right? Maybe it’s how she makes money, and everyone has already had their fortune told. She needs new blood, more business. You could ask some of your friends about her, probably.”

“Oh, yeah, for sure,” Peach laughed with a wince, thinking of the complete lack of anyone she could comfortably ask.

She heard shifting on the other side. “Speaking of love lives,” Daisy started, a grin sneaking its way into her voice. Peach couldn’t help but break into a smile herself, already able to guess what Daisy was going to say. “Remember that guy I told you about? The one who looked like he was about to pee his pants when I called him cute?”

Peach laughed. “How could I forget?” Daisy had described the ordeal in hilarious detail, recounting a conversation with some poor unsuspecting man. Peach already knew Daisy could be overwhelming to those not used to her sheer energy; Peach considered her to be a force of nature. So it was always funny to hear about people who didn’t quite know how to handle her. “Why, what about him?”

Sounding like she could barely contain her excitement, Daisy took a deep breath before she spoke. “Get this-- he showed up yesterday in town, I guess he must have figured out that I like to eat breakfast at the bakery most weekdays. You should’ve seen him, he was sweating so hard I thought someone had dumped a bucket of water over his head! He came up to my table, shaking like a leaf, and kinda just stuck a bouquet in my face without saying anything.” she stopped to gather herself, because she was giggling. Peach only shook her head with a fond smile. “And then, I guess he remembered what he was supposed to say. He stammered for a bit, and finally managed to ask if it was okay if he went out with me on a date.”

Daisy paused for dramatic effect, and then they both burst out laughing. “What?” Peach asked. “He- he asked you, if he could-?”

“I know! He was such a mess, it was the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen. Of course I had to say yes. Poor guy, I held off teasing him, but he’s not going to hear the end of it when I see him this weekend.” Daisy snickered.

“Wait, so you…” Peach remembered a time when she would have been the first to know about this guy, when she would have been there with Daisy when it all was happening. She tried to keep her voice light so she wouldn’t betray the lack of a smile. “You’re actually going to go out with him?”

There was a pause. “You know, I think so. I mean, I only agreed to the one date, but I think I might actually like him. He’s an angel! A bumbling, clumsy angel, but an angel. He managed to ask me out without losing his nerve, sort of. I just think he’s a great guy, too. I know you’ll like him.”

Realizing she was about to sigh, Peach tried to cover it up by forcing a smile and talking. “Well, send me pictures! I can’t wait to meet him, what’s his name, again?”

“Luigi.”

Peach tilted her head. “Louis G.?”

“Yeah! He’s Italian, he’s got an accent and everything. In a way, he kinda reminds me of the Jumpman, you remember that guy? He might also have a brother, I have to ask him. Maybe I could introduce you two, huh?” she teased.

Frowning, Peach thought that ‘Louis G.’ sounded more French than Italian. And she knew why Daisy was teasing; when they were little, Peach used to obsess over Europe. She always thought her dream guy was some exotic fellow in a distant country, far from the Mushroom Kingdom. Peach had also been quite fond of listening to tales about the fabled Jumpman. She had grown up since then. She likely wouldn’t be able to marry for love anyway, so what was the point? “That’s okay,” she declined.

Daisy sighed, and was quiet for a moment. “So, when are you coming back home? It’s been almost a year now. I know you’ve made friends over there, but your home is still here, right?” Her voice had become low, serious. Peach bit her lip and rolled onto her side.

She felt Pancake lay down, his back to her back. “Yeah. My home is over there. I’ll come back soon.” She didn’t know when she would go back. She had left because she felt smothered at home. As a Princess, she had grown up constantly surrounded by people who knew her, who wanted to be her friend, who wanted to be on her good side. As soon as she had graduated from university, she wanted to escape the political mess by living alone for a few months. She wanted to be as far as possible from her Kingdom. She wanted to go to a place where no one knew who she was, that she was a Princess. Her crown continued to gather dust in a shoebox in the highest corner of her closet.

The problem with starting a new life was that she didn’t really know how to talk to anyone who didn’t already know her. She had chosen to live in a small town in a country where she had a decent grasp of the language, but most of them spoke hers anyway. There wasn’t a single soul in the village who knew she reigned over a Kingdom across the world. She found a job, she got a cat, she managed by herself. But she was always by herself.

“May- maybe when the lease expires in June,” she offered, taking a deep breath to disguise how her throat had suddenly closed off. She was alone. The apartment was always empty. The only friends she had were the ones she had left at home, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to go back yet.

Daisy let out a long sigh. “Alright, whatever works for you, girl. We miss you. I better get going; I’m supposed to meet Pauline and Rosalina in twenty minutes. And you better get to sleep. I’ll say hi for you!”

Her friends. Peach smiled faintly at the thought of the other two.

Rosalina, a friend who had returned to the Mushroom Kingdom after being gone for several years, quickly found her way into their group. She was quiet and mysterious, but also very wise. Peach wasn’t quite sure how old she was exactly. She loved to sit and discuss philosophy with Rosalina, and listen to her perpetually profound outlook on the universe. She missed those soft mornings when they would sit together to have some tea and watch the sunrise. Rosalina taught her to enjoy the silence.

Pauline was a friend who she met at the University, and they had all been students together up until they graduated. She was bold, and probably the most confident person Peach had ever met. She was also wildly smart. Peach missed those exciting nights when Pauline would help her disguise herself and take her to some real parties, not political banquets. Pauline taught her to appreciate the noise.

An interesting thing about Pauline was why she came to the Kingdom. A gorilla had kidnapped her in her city and taken her to the top of a precarious building that was under construction. She recounted the tale many times, of the man who came to her rescue. The Jumpman, they called him. Peach had heard of some of the Jumpman’s other feats, and found herself sort of starstruck. She had never personally met him. But she would have loved to meet a real hero, someone who would stare down the face of danger just to save a stranger. Peach had always had a romantic notion of someone appearing out of the blue to save her from injustice.

For a little while, Pauline and Daisy especially were under the impression that Peach had a crush on the Jumpman. She had fervently denied it all.

There were a few reports after that, of the Jumpman doing good for the world. But Peach realized she hadn’t heard anything in awhile. She wondered what he was up to these days. Still saving damsels? Wrestling gorillas? Maybe it was giant turtles now.

Peach realized she had been quiet for a moment too long. “Alright. I miss you guys too. Goodnight.” she tried to hold a smile for her friends, for the people across the world who she missed so much.

“Goodnight!” Daisy said, and Peach had already buried her face in her hands before she hung up.

She took a deep breath in. “I’m fine.” she told herself, and blinked and relaxed her jaw. “I’m fine.” she pushed herself up and slid under the covers, careful not to disturb Pancake. She switched off the light and pulled the blankets over her head. “I’m just fine.”

O~o~O

“That’ll be two-hundred bells.” Peach stuffed the donut neatly into the paper bag, and passed it across the counter along with the coffee she had just brewed.  The man offered her the payment, and she gave him his change. The bell above the door rang once he left, and a cold breeze wandered in like it was lost. “Oof.” Peach shuddered and dusted off her apron.

From the back, the owner of the cafe came up to the sink and started washing coffee mugs. “...It seems the customers have all been taken care of.” he said, without looking at her. “Good work. Why don’t you call it a day?”

Peach nodded, but quickly wiped down the counters and put away some trays to lessen the work for him. “Thank you, Mr. Brewster.” she smiled.

Just as she had hung up her apron and grabbed her bag, Brewster looked up from the sink. He had a hard face, a sharp nose that reminded her of a bird. “Why don’t you take some coffee? It’s cold out there. Take a pastry, too.” His voice was low, his expression was always dull, but Peach knew that he had a heart as soft as the pastries he made every morning.

“Thank you,” she said again, and left with a wave, armed for the cold with a hot coffee and a danish.

There was a chance of snow. Peach walked along the sidewalk toward her apartment, seeing the building in the distance. She had a bike, but it was far too cold for her to want to ride it. When she had first moved to the village, she had locked it to a pole, or kept it in her room out of fear of a thief making off with it. However, it only took a few weeks for her to learn that everyone knew everyone, and no one could be bothered to steal her bike. It leaned against the side of the apartment near the front, not locked to anything.

A car would be nice. But she had no need of it when the village was so small. The walk would take less than twenty minutes. Though, looking down at her boots and shuddering inside her jacket, she wouldn’t have complained about driving every now and then.

She clutched her coffee with both hands, and wrapped up the rest of her pastry, thinking Pancake might like it.

Just as she was about to cross a street, Peach glanced to her left and noticed the tea shop where she had met the old lady. Below the sign for the tea shop was a smaller, older sign that advertised fortune-telling services. She glanced to the coffee she was holding, but figured no one would mind.

When she walked in, the owner smiled at her from across the counter, while her son played games on the floor behind her. Peach gave a shy wave, and looked around for the old lady.

“You are looking for Katrina?” the owner asked her, and Peach turned, startled.

She blinked for a moment. “Err, yes. Is she, is Katrina the, um, the fortune teller?” she gave a strained smile, and then felt very silly for even coming in the shop, for thinking about it, for opening her mouth. Why did she think she needed a fortune? Maybe she should just turn around and walk back out.

But the woman merely smiled, and gestured to Peach’s left, where a door led to some other room. “She is in there.”

“Oh.” Peach stammered. “Uh, thank you.”

She hesitated before she headed to the door, aware of the woman watching her out of the corner of her eye. The little trills of a videogame from the little boy filled in the silence.

The room was dark when she walked in. Peach blinked and squinted, trying to will her eyes to adjust faster, when she saw the old woman sitting on the floor. She had something in her hands. Peach wasn’t certain of what, it looked like a tool in one hand and something about the size of a bar of soap in the other. The woman wore a dark scarf over her head. “Ah, yes,” she rasped without looking up. “I have been waiting for you.”

Peach blinked several times. “You...You have?” she dared to ask.

“Yes, of course, my dear. Please, have a seat.” the old woman, Katrina, finally looked up at Peach, and Peach found that she could relax when she saw her eyes. Those eyes held no malice. Peach finally got a closer look at her hands as she moved to sit across from her, and saw she was carving a piece of wood with a small blade.

Katrina’s expression was grave, and she looked into the crystal ball that sat between them. “Your timing could not have been better. I suppose the stars had a hand in it,” she spoke, as if the stars had a hand in any last minute impulse. Peach wasn’t sure she knew very much about that sort of thing.

After a moment of silence, Peach wondered if she was supposed to inquire about what Katrina meant. But Katrina merely gazed into the crystal, her old eyes reflecting a silvery glow.

“Disaster looms upon you.” when she spoke, her voice had risen against the gravity of her words. Her eyes blazed in the light, and for a moment Peach saw power in her face that she had never witnessed before. “There is impending disaster upon your health and upon love. I see...Yes, I see it. I can see a chance as it washes down the drain. Nothing new to you, I suppose. I see a great scare in the night, but that should be the least of your concerns. You should be far more worried about the chances as they fall, one by one, like the rains that have plagued your land in your absence.”

She looked up, right into Peach’s eyes, and Peach found herself frozen in her place. She felt a cold rush through her chest. “You must be brave. You must not be afraid of the shadows; they wouldn’t dream of hurting you. The shadows, you understand what I mean, the things that go bump in the night. The shadows hide a truth that you may never know if you don’t take that chance.”

Chances? Shadows? Scares? Peach wasn’t sure if Katrina was speaking some metaphorical, symbolic language that she didn’t understand. But her searing eyes lifted their pressure, softened like wax to a flame. With a tender smile, she passed the wood she had been carving across the table.

“For you,” she said. Turning it over in her hand, Peach recognized it was a Maneki-neko. A lucky cat.

It must have taken ages to carve such a piece. Peach grasped it gently, feeling the smooth wood in her palm. “Thank you,” she told Katrina earnestly, though she still felt her blood running cold and hot through her all at once. “How much for…?” she started to ask, but Katrina  merely shook her head.

“For free.” she smiled, but Peach passed five hundred bells across the table anyway. As Peach started to stand, Katrina folded her hands. “Be brave, my dear, take all the luck that you need. And remember, bad times are just times that are bad.”

Her mysterious smile would stay in Peach’s mind for the rest of the day.

O~o~O

“Louis G., huh?” Peach asked, laying on the floor of the living room in front of Pancake. She absentmindedly twirled a string with a feather at the end of it, and Pancake absentmindedly batted at it. She had showed him the little Maneki-neko that Katrina had given her. Pancake didn’t seem too interested. “He sounds nice, I guess. Maybe I should go back soon.”

Pancake strained for the feather, but gave up. His bell jingled softly. He was flopped sort of on his side and sort of on his back. When he just lay there, he did look quite like a pancake. “But I don’t think you would like riding on an airplane very much, huh?” she asked him, and he blinked at her.

She sighed. “I don’t know why I don’t just go back. I just feel like I’m not really done here, you know? I think I came here to prove a point. But I haven’t really proven anything.” Giving up with the feather string, she folded her arms underneath her and rested her chin there. “Well, I proved that I don’t really know how to talk to people, I guess.”

Nosing the air, Pancake squinted at her. Peach smiled sadly at him and reached to scratch his head. “You know, I wasn’t even planning on getting a cat. Everything just felt so strange and new here. I wanted this place to feel like a home. What better way to do that than getting a pet?”

The tip of Pancake’s tail twitched across the floor. He always had a funny way of maintaining eye contact with her, like he knew she was talking to him.

Peach narrowed her eyes at him. “I remember picking you. I picked you because you were watching me. The other cats could care less whether or not I was there, but you just sat there, looking at me with your big eyes. Most of the other people there wanted kittens. I think they overlooked you because you were fully grown.”

She wondered if he remembered when she brought him to the apartment. Did a cat’s memory go that far? It had only been about a year ago, so it still felt fresh to her.

Pancake had tried to run away. She had caught him standing along the fence just as she was returning from work, his little bell alerting her. At the time, she had felt liberated, as she was still fresh from her escape from the Mushroom Kingdom on her little quest for independence. She had sought freedom. The way she had understood it, so did Pancake. And if he felt confined in her home, then so be it. Still, she was sad to see that he wasn’t happy with her.

“You can go, if you want. I understand.” she remembered telling him, holding her bags and her self assurance close to her chest. She had tried to hard to smile.

He looked at her for a long time. Then, bell ringing, he leaped down close to her feet, and followed her back into the apartment.

Pancake had never been a very noisy cat. Sometimes he ran around at night, and Peach could have sworn he was bouncing off the walls. But usually, he was quiet and affectionate. She remembered it had taken the longest time to let her pet him. Once she had made it past his initial barrier, he couldn’t get enough of the head scratches and the back strokes and the chin scritches. He always seemed to be purring.

“Rrow?” he asked her as she stopped petting him, and started to pick herself up.

“Sorry, silly kitty.” she gave his big belly a pat just to mess with him, and he scrambled to get on his paws. “I have to go take a shower. If Katrina thinks there will be a ‘great scare in the night,’ I at least want to be clean.”

As she was grabbing her clothes to take into the bathroom, she picked up her phone to play music. She wondered if her neighbors ever heard her. Usually, she sang quite loud in the shower, but she never received any noise complaints. “You’ve been hit by--” she pointed at Pancake as he leapt up to her bed. “You’ve been struck by-- a smooth criminal.”

She danced her way into her bathroom, in a rudimentary attempt to remake Michael Jackson’s performance. With the water steaming, she stepped into the shower, and used her hairbrush as a microphone.

“Annie, are you okay? Will you tell us, that you’re okay?” she implored, moving as much as she could without slipping. The water felt so nice compared to the cold outside. She looked down at her feet, and tried not to think about how Katrina had warned her about chances going down the drain. Could chances be washing off her now, cleaned off her soul like dirt? Peach wasn’t sure she wanted to think about things like that. She tried to focus on Michael Jackson and nothing else.

Just as she was scrubbing and rinsing the shampoo out of her hair, she thought she heard a faint sound over the song.

“Pancake?” she asked, opening the shower door just a crack so she could reach to turn down the music. A moment later, she heard a soft thump on the door. Pancake pressing his paws against it.

She heard him meow loud, and she laughed. “Oh, baby, just give me a minute! I’ll feed you as soon as I’m done.” she promised him.

He only answered with a louder yowl, and Peach frowned. When she reached, the phone slipped off the counter, and landed on the bath mat. Michael Jackson sang soft, muffled words into the floor. “Pancake?” she asked.

There was silence. Pancake had never really called for her outside the door before; she had thought he was weird for not crying for food like other cats did. He must have left again. Peach shut off the water and wrapped herself in a towel. Just as she was about to open the door to check on him, she heard a loud bump from what had to be the living area.

Peach felt her blood go cold. She froze with her hand just above the doorknob.

Was there someone in the apartment? There were a lot of other subsequent sounds, like footsteps, far too heavy to be Pancake just running around. Peach let out a silent, shaky breath. Was there a person out there? She made out more noise, could have sworn there were voices. Were there people? Did someone break in?

She didn’t know what to do except lock the door. Once the door clicked, she flinched, because it sounded so loud compared to the blaring silence. Peach stood there, wet and shivering. She tried to strain for any more sounds.

After a moment, she wondered if she had just imagined it. Maybe the fortune had just scared her. That made sense, she tried to tell herself. She was just freaked out because of whatever ‘looming disaster’ Katrina had been going on about. Nothing terrible. She had left the Maneki-neko on her nightstand.

‘Be brave!’ she told herself, and moved, one foot in front of the other. Slowly, she was able to get to the counter and put on her clothes. She heard Michael Jackson on the floor.

“Pancake, am I okay?” she whispered to herself, picking up her phone and turning it off. “Am I okay, Pancake?”

“Rreow?” Peach nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard Pancake at the door again. Her heart rate shot up. For a moment, she thought she could hear her blood running in her ears.

Reminding herself to breathe, she reasoned that Pancake wouldn’t be meowing at the door if there was any danger. So, steeling herself, she reached out to open the door.

He sat there while she crouched in the doorway. “Hey, kitty kitty.” she greeted him breathlessly, and realized when she went to scratch his ears that her hands were shaking. “Something happen?”

“Mrr.” Pancake blinked at her, and then walked away.

Peach felt like she was acting out Mission Impossible when she darted through her own hall, pressed against the wall just before she got to the living area. Her hair still wet, cold on her neck. She dared to take a peek.

“Oh, stars.” she covered her mouth with a hand. From where she stood, she could see several books had been knocked off her counter, all sprawled in the entry. One of her bowls that she had left by the sink lay in pieces on the kitchen floor. It looked like more things had been knocked down or broken in the living room. Peach had seen the cat videos. She knew cats were capable of reckless destruction, but this? Pancake couldn’t have made such a mess in such a short amount of time, could he?

Just as she looked for him, he came walking out from the kitchen to the front door. Peach’s suspicions were confirmed. “O--oh.” she said, and came to see what he was sniffing. Her front lock lay broken on the floor. Pancake couldn’t have done that. Someone had broken in.

“But what did they take?” she asked him in a small voice. “When did they leave? Did they know I was here?”

She started walking around, looking for anything that might be missing. But her mind had gone blank. She thought she should call the police. Could they help her? What could they do about a break in? She couldn’t figure out if anything had been stolen. Sitting there with the phone in her hand for about twenty minutes, with her hand hovering over the numbers, she eventually decided against calling.

Peach didn’t really know how to fix a lock. She sat on the floor trying to figure it out. But she didn’t think she could do anything about splintered wood. There wasn’t anyone else for her to call; she didn’t know her neighbors well enough to ask if she could stay with them. And there wasn’t a single person in town that she felt comfortable asking. She was on her own. Pancake rubbed against her arm repeatedly while she sat there, trying not to cry.

She opted to shove a chair against the door and turn off all the lights. Then, scooping up Pancake, she locked herself in her room.

“Hey, Daisy! How are you?” Peach asked, plastering a smile on her face and hoping it sounded more real than it felt. She kept her voice conversational, but was conscious of how loud she was speaking.

“Hey, girl! I’m doing great, I just had my coffee. I can’t wait until the date in a couple of days.” Right. The date with that boy, Louis G. Daisy had sent her some pictures on social media, and Peach thought he looked nice enough. “So what’s new with you?”

Peach curled up in her bed, with nothing but the moon lighting up the room. She was petting Pancake a little too hard. “Oh, nothing. Just the usual. What are you doing today other than waiting for Louis G.?” she thought she heard a sound outside. “Wait just a second. Oh. No. Sorry, it was nothing.”

She heard Daisy let out a happy sigh. “I don’t know just yet. I guess I’ll figure it out. It’s getting pretty warm, I’ll see if Pauline will go swimming with me.” she said. “Hey, isn’t it kinda late over there? Did you stay up to watch something?”

With a big breath, Peach glanced over to her window. “I guess it is a little late. Sorry I didn’t call earlier, I got distracted by something. You know me.”

“That’s my Peach.” Daisy agreed, and Peach laughed half heartedly with her. “Well, I’ll let you get to bed. You have work tomorrow, right? You need your sleep. Give Pancake a kiss for me!”

Peach nodded, and then said “Yeah, okay, I will.”

“Alright. Goodnight, Peach!”

“Night.”

Peach put her phone on the nightstand, the blue light briefly illuminating the little wooden Maneki-neko. When the light died, so did Peach’s vision, and she curled up under her covers with wide eyes. It was only after she settled in that she realized she had forgotten to feed Pancake. He was curled up close to her side. She stroked his back and whispered an apology in the dark room.

She wasn’t able to fall asleep for hours.

Instead of wanting to rest, her mind was racing, all sorts of horrible scenarios flying through her head. Every single one ended in a terrible disaster. In each one, she was reminded just how alone and helpless she was inside her little apartment. Her heart rate wouldn’t come down no matter how she tried to breathe.

Eventually, she must have horrified herself to exhaustion. She must have fallen asleep at some point, because it was darker in her room when she opened her eyes.

A bleary glance to her phone showed her it was almost three in the morning.

She let out a sigh that was still heavy with sleep. Without thinking, she instinctively moved to pet Pancake, because she knew he’d still be sleeping at her side.

What her hand touched wasn’t fur. She touched something much bigger than her cat, something warmer. Something cotton?

Peach dared to raise her head. There was someone in her bed.

“Oh my stars!” she yelled out. As she kicked out, trying to sit up and get away, the person jerked awake.

She heard him yell out when he tumbled off the bed and onto the floor. She wanted to scream. She wanted to cry. Was this how the break-in was supposed to happen? Some man was supposed to just come in and terrorize her as she slept? What sort of psychopathic monster did such a thing?

Peach tried get off of her bed while she heard him scrambling on the floor. She thought he was coming back to attack her. Blindly, she backed off, only to stumble and knock a lamp down. The light came on as it hit the floor.

She froze. All she could see from where she sat was a big shadow on the wall.

Shadows. The fortune should have been the last thing on Peach’s mind, but Peach found herself remembering what Katrina had said. You must not be afraid of the shadows; they wouldn’t dream of hurting you.

Peach let out a quivering breath. Could she really trust some old lady’s words in the context she stood in? She got her feet underneath her, and started to stand. She rose into the light to see the shadow for herself.

There was a man. He was still on the floor. He had backed up to the far wall. Peach breathed hard and squinted, trying to make sense of him. He blinked at her with as much fear in his eyes as she felt.

“Who- who are you?” she demanded, and she hated that her voice shook. “Are you the one who broke in?”

He was also breathing hard. The man looked down at his hands, and then to the floor and the door with pain. He opened his mouth, and then closed it again. Peach realized he was avoiding eye contact.

She tried to glance around her for something to weaponize, something to defend herself with. She didn’t quite feel safe with just the bed as a barrier between them. “Answer me!” she raised her voice, and the man flinched.

He held up his hands as if she had raised her own to strike him. “Princess--Princess, please,” he started to say, and Peach’s eyes widened. “I’m not--no, I didn’t break in. That wasn’t me.”

How did this man know she was a Princess? The cold rush of fear turned into something hot and defensive. She watched him, and started to realize that he was more afraid of her than she was of him. He was looking around desperately, for escape, she thought. He kept eyeing the area underneath her desk, or the space between her dresser and the corner of the wall.

She took a deep breath, and marched around her bed across the room, toward him. His eyes widened. “Who are you? How do you know who I am?” her voice still betrayed her fear.

As she got a better look at him, she didn’t think he looked like the kind of man who would break into apartments to terrorize young women. He had big eyes, big, honest eyes that looked familiar to her somehow. You must not be afraid of the shadows , she remembered again. They wouldn’t dream of hurting you.

The shadows hide a truth that you may never know if you don’t take that chance.

Was this the chance Katrina meant? Give the strange man a chance to explain himself? Give herself a chance to understand him? Peach wasn’t sure what sort of chance she was supposed to take.

She squinted at him. The man really was familiar to her, she must have seen him before. It had to be. Where else would she know that face? The answer was right on the tip of her tongue. It was something about his eyes. If she could just put a finger on it.

Before he could answer her, she slowly knelt down in front of him. He looked at her with those big eyes in silence. She no longer felt threatened by him; she knew somehow that he wasn’t going to hurt her, that he would never hurt her. He was a friend. There was something golden around his neck, that jingled when he moved.

And then she placed a finger on it.

“Pancake.” she breathed. “You’re Pancake.”

The man blinked at her, and then nodded.

Peach was startled when he agreed. Was she going crazy? Did she really just ask a strange man if he was her cat? As odd as she felt, she couldn’t deny the uncanny resemblance between the man and Pancake. She didn’t even think it was possible for a human to look like an animal. And yet, somehow, the man looked exactly like her cat. Even with a mustache. She opened her mouth to ask something, ask everything.

With a deep sigh, the man, or Pancake, finally relaxed. “It’s--It’s a very long story.” he let out, answering her soundless question. He might have meant to try to lighten his words with a smile, but his expression was worn. She knew by his tone that the story he had was going to change everything.

His accent, she recognized that, too. But she could only really ask him to answer one thing at a time. “Do you…” she started awkwardly. She couldn’t remember the last time she had someone at her apartment, and could hardly remember what she was supposed to do. Even if it was three in the morning and her guest was actually her cat. “Do you, um, want some tea or something?”

He must have seen the worried edge in her face, because he gave her a tired smile. “Sure.” he answered.

Peach couldn’t help but hesitate before she unlocked her bedroom door. The man behind her wouldn’t hurt her, she trusted that. But what was on the other side? She didn’t want to let the guy, Pancake, see her hesitate. He couldn’t know how afraid she was. How unsafe she felt in her own home. So she pushed open the door with a sharp breath in.

“Have--have a seat,” she told him, gesturing to the sofa while she went to the kitchen. She tried to keep authority in her tone, but she was worried that it was obviously fragile. Some impulse, some remnant of her home instilled by her advisor, Toadsworth, led her to believe that a cup of tea would do her a lot of good. She put on the kettle and tried not to look at the door.

Her eyes were wide open. She didn’t know what to do except stand there while she waited for the water to boil. Hugging herself, watching the kettle, and leaning against the cabinets, Peach tried to sort her thoughts.

When she came around into the living with the only two clean mugs she could find, she saw the man eyeing the door. Not the door exactly, but the chair in front of it. The lock on the floor. When she came into view, he turned quickly and sat down, like she had asked him to.

She wasn’t sure if she wanted to sit. So she set his mug on the table before him, and held her own in her hands while she stood. He watched her, warily.

“So,” she started, pacing around the room and holding the cup close to her. It was hot. The rest of the space was cold. Dressed in nothing but her thin pajamas, she felt very vulnerable, and nothing she did helped. “How--how is it that you’re…? Why are you…?” she didn’t exactly know what she was trying to ask, she wanted to ask too many things that could be answered with a single question. “Is there a, um, beginning to all of this?”

He was taking a sip of his tea, but his head jerked back. It was too hot. He blinked at it, and set the mug back on the table. “Yes.” he answered her. He placed his hands on his knees and looked up at her. Those same eyes must have looked at her the exact same way a thousand times.

Peach nodded, and waited. When he didn’t look like he was going to say anything, she hesitated to address him. “...Pancake?” she asked, and he looked away from her.

“Yes. I am...Pancake.” he said the name slowly, like he had never said it before. “I am--I was your, er, cat. But I’m not...”

Peach raised her eyebrows, and the man took in a big breath. “There is a lot. I’m sorry. It might take me a little while to say everything.” he gave an apologetic look, but then folded his hands and looked at the floor.

Maybe she had made him nervous. Maybe she was making her own agitation obvious, and she was putting him on edge, too. She tried to sit down on the chair across from him, but she couldn’t bring herself to put down her tea. “It’s okay,” she said, and she wasn’t sure if she was saying it for him, or for herself. “Just tell me what’s the most important first.”

He gave her a small smile. “Yes. It’s late for you, Princess, you should be asleep. But I understand that you can’t really rest. I’ll tell you as much as I can right now.” he looked up at the ceiling, and then his eyes fell back to his cup on the table.

“I’m not a cat. I’ve been your pet for almost a year, but I...This is so hard to explain. I’m sorry.” he rubbed his head. “I’m a man. I’ve always been a man. My name is Mario. I came to this village a little over a year ago with my brother. There was a lady… I think you know her. I had picked up a bell, and she tried to warn me about it. This was a while back, I remember she tried to tell me that there was some sort of disaster to do with the bell. I think I forgot about her warning as soon as I left. I’m not...sure about very much. But I think I was cursed. All I know is that I was taking a shortcut through an alleyway, when I fell. When I opened my eyes, I was a cat. My own brother didn’t recognize me. I tried so hard to get his attention, but he thought I went missing. After a while, he had to leave without me. So I was stuck here.”

Mario looked down at his shoes, absentmindedly fingering the bell around his neck. Peach only had half the mind to wonder why he was fully dressed. Didn’t magically turning into an animal leave a person naked? Maybe Peach had seen too much anime. “You were stuck here.” she repeated, and he nodded.

He reached for his tea, and then thought better of it. He stared at the table as he spoke. “Yes. I couldn’t turn back into a human. I didn’t know how. The people of the village, they thought I was a stray. So they picked me up. I couldn’t leave, I couldn’t tell them I was human. But I was only there for a couple of days.” he said, wringing his hands.

Peach blinked, and a little more of his story came together. “Because I showed up and adopted you,” she assumed, and he gave a sheepish nod. Then, she thought back. She remembered choosing him, she remembered taking him home. She remembered hearing the bell and seeing him almost escape. “...That was why you tried to run away.”

With the way Mario flinched, she would have thought she had thrown something at him. “Yes.” his answer came after a moment.

Her mug was starting to burn her hands. Peach reached forward to set it down, and then narrowed her eyes at Mario. “So, why did you stay?” she asked him. She remembered when he tried to run away, when she saw him outside. “That day when you were on the fence, you looked right at me. You could have gone. You could have been free.”

She must have struck something. Mario wouldn’t look at her. “Yes. I could have gone.” he agreed. Peach watched him carefully, saw how he searched the floor. “It had only been a few days since you brought me home. I mean, here. Since you brought me here. I really wanted to leave. I didn’t know what I would do or where I would go, but I thought if I could escape that I could figure something out. I didn’t know how to change back into a human yet. A cat is very limited...When I finally opened the window, and when I did start to leave, you saw me. And the way you looked at me…”

Peach frowned, uncrossing her arms a little from her chest. She noticed his choice of words, the way he spoke. He spoke like her apartment was his home, too.

Mario let out a sigh, and only glanced at her for a moment. He rubbed the back of his head. “There were...a lot of reasons I decided to stay.” he said, and he winced. But he didn’t elaborate.

When he fell quiet, Peach could have sworn she could see a slight blush on his cheeks. Trying to distract herself, she noticed his use of past tense. “You said you didn’t know how to turn back into a human. I guess you do now?” she asked.

He was taking a sip of his tea. When he set the mug back down, he looked at his hands folded in his lap. “Yes. I figured it out by accident a few months ago. By that time, it was too late for me to really do anything about it. Sometimes, when you were at work, I would turn back just to walk around and remember how to be human. But after a while, I just accepted my life. It was more trouble to turn back and forth than to just stay a cat. It’s something about the bell. But I can’t take it off.” he demonstrated by trying to pull the red band over his head, but it was too small. He tried to break it, and she assumed he had tried cutting it too.

Hearing him talk about her daily life was a little disorienting. Peach could barely wrap her mind that she had been living with a strange man all this time, and she wasn’t sure if she was very comfortable with it yet. But, he was obviously considerate of her. He was really trying to explain everything, trying not to scare her. He knew her. Peach suddenly felt a small hint of warmth for him. She really couldn’t call him a stranger anymore; he had been here with her all along.

She must have been quiet for a moment too long, because Mario sat up and put his hands on his knees as if he were going to stand. “Thank you, for the tea.” he said, and looked at her with a sad smile. “The lock isn’t too hard to fix. Your neighbor next door can help if you ask him. I should go.”

Just as he got to his feet and started toward the door, Peach narrowed her eyes. “Wait,” she said, and she started to follow him. She noticed she was quite a bit taller than him than she had thought. “Where are you going? Where can you go? It’s freezing out there, and it’s almost four in the morning.”

He stopped, and his eyebrows creased. “I...well, I thought about this. What would happen if…” he trailed off, and she knew he meant what would happen if she found out he was human. For a moment, he just wrung his hands and looked away from her. “...I didn’t think you would be very comfortable. I thought you would be scared and angry, which is very fair. So I think it would make you feel better if I left.”

Peach folded her arms across her chest, because she was cold. He was right; she was scared. But she didn’t really feel any anger toward him; the situation was much too complicated, and he wasn’t really to blame. He didn’t really answer either of her questions, and she thought he might be avoiding exactly that. For her sake. She considered him for a moment, and as she hesitated, he started to turn to leave again. “Pan-- I mean, Mario, wait.” she reached out for his shoulder to stop him again. “It’s too cold outside. You don’t have a jacket. There’s nowhere for you to go.”

He didn’t have a jacket, just the clothes on his back. He didn’t really have anything. “I can figure something out.” he assured her with a smile, but Peach shook her head.

“No. Look, I am scared. With Katrina, and the shadows, and the break-in…” she touched her temple and sighed. “This is all very strange, but I can’t just let you leave. I’m sorry for yelling at you earlier. But, I know that you don’t mean any harm. Besides, now that I know who you are, maybe I can help you. Why don’t you just stay here?”

Mario turned to face her, with wide eyes. “Princess, I can’t--I don’t want to ask any more of you than I already have. I already made things worse.” he said, and he almost reached up to touch her hand. Almost. He stopped just before he could. The gesture had seemed so natural to him.

She was almost as surprised as he was when she reached the rest of the way to his hand. “You don’t have to call me Princess,” she rested her hand on top of his, and gently urged him away from the door. “You call this place home too, don’t you? It’s not fair to just kick you out now.”

He opened his mouth as if to argue, but at her look, he lowered his head. “Okay. Thank you.”

She led him back into the living room, and she sat across from him on the chair again. The late hour was starting to catch up to Peach. Her eyes were feeling heavy, and her whole body felt sluggish. She wanted to pick up the mugs to put them by the sink; Mario had finished his tea, and hers had gone cold. But she couldn’t quite bring herself to do it.

The time. She looked up at the clock, it was nearly four thirty-seven. When she looked back, she realized Mario was still standing. He had followed her gaze.

“Yes. It’s very late. You should really go to sleep.” he said, he knew exactly what she was thinking. The suggestion was gentle, his tone mild. “You have work. And I know you will feel too guilty to sleep in.”

She could hear a smile in his voice. And she knew he was probably right; she would feel bad for skipping out on Mr. Brewster without warning. Mario really did seem to know her well. She blinked at him while he came around the coffee table to her chair.

He was just about to offer his hand to her, when she looked at the door. The lock on the floor, the chair shoved under the knob. Her heart skipped a beat with the cold rush of fear. Peach folded her arms to her chest again and looked up helplessly at Mario.

“I’m scared.” she said, and she felt very small and alone.

Mario nodded, and held out his hand. “I know. I’m sorry.” he pulled her up with surprising ease, and held her hand in both of his while she looked down to him. His tone was soft and earnest. “I won’t let anyone hurt you. You’re safe here.”

When Peach looked at his face, she saw hard, uncompromising resolve. His hands were warm. He looked at her with those eyes that she had seen a thousand times, and suddenly she understood every moment that Pancake had looked up at her the same way. There was tenderness, a gravity she had never fully recognized. No one had ever looked at her that way before.

His eyes flickered down at their hands, and he slowly released her. “I will watch the front door while you sleep.” he murmured, and stood back so she could walk toward her room.

Peach rubbed her eyes and tried not to think about how her cheeks felt warm. “Wait, so, the break-in…” she started to say. “How--how did--? What happened?”

Shaking his head, Mario just shepherded her toward her room. “We can talk more about everything tomorrow. I will be here.” he promised her.

“Okay.” Peach murmured, and covered her mouth to yawn.

When she glanced back, Mario was smiling at her, his eyes shining in the dim light. “Go to sleep. You need to rest.” he gestured to her door.

Peach walked in her room, but stopped just before she closed the door. She turned back. Mario stood back, making clear that he had no intention of following her. He was giving her the most space he could. She gave him a shy smile. “Goodnight, Mario. Thank you.”

He hesitated. “It’s nothing. Goodnight.” he finally answered, and she closed the door as soon as he turned around.

Before Peach could lay down, she had to pick up the lamp she had knocked over earlier. Once she switched it off, she crawled into bed, and curled up under the covers. Sleep was weighing down on her.

Her cat was actually a man, she thought.

At least he was a nice man. He seemed to really care about her. She remembered that Pancake would always sleep with her, and felt a slight discomfort at the thought. She wondered if he was missing the bed. There were a lot of things she wanted to ask him. She hoped he didn’t think she was weird for singing in the shower.

She fell asleep, and dreamed about Maneki-nekos beckoning her across the sea.

O~o~O

Chapter Text

O~o~O

Peach felt like she had hardly been asleep for a minute before her alarm rang.

She groaned. “Pancake,” she let out, patting around the bed for her cat. When she couldn’t find him, she reached to her phone to turn off the alarm.

She thought about sleeping in. But then, she felt bad for even considering it; Mr. Brewster didn’t pay her so she could lay around when she stayed up late. So she pushed herself up and dragged herself out of bed.

As soon as she left the warm covers, she knew why she was missing Pancake so much. “It’s freezing in here,” she muttered, and shuddered so hard that her neck hurt.

She found her uniform, which she had forgotten to wash, but she figured she had only worn it for a couple of hours anyway. After she put it on and hobbled into the bathroom, she tried to comb her hair quickly, and realized she had put her shirt on inside out. It was a quick fix. After splashing some water on her face, and arranging her hair a little bit, she thought she looked presentable.

In the split second before she opened her door, she remembered why Pancake wasn’t in her bed. She could hear faint noises out in the living area, it sounded like her coffee maker?

Skeptically, she opened the door and wandered out into the hall.

Mario was in the kitchen. From where she stood, she wouldn’t have been able to guess that he had been up all night. The way he moved, with such energy and control, could have fooled her into thinking he had a full eight hours of sleep. He stirred the contents inside a skillet, and then whirled around to the coffee maker after it was finished. Whatever he was cooking, it smelled heavenly. She couldn’t remember the last time she had cooked breakfast for herself.

He didn’t appear to notice her, and Peach thought it was because she was wearing socks, so she hadn’t made any sound that he could hear over whatever was cooking. She glanced to the door with the broken lock, and noticed the chair had been moved. Some tools lay on the floor beside it.

Peach came a little closer, just to the corner, to watch him. There was such focus in his face.

Just as he turned around again, Peach started walking out toward the kitchen. In her head, she knew she should be finishing getting ready to go to work; if she didn’t head out soon, she would be late. But she just wanted to see what he was doing.

“Good morning, Princess. Are you hungry?” Mario asked, and Peach jumped. He had his back to her. There wasn’t any way he could have known she was there, right?

With a sheepish glance to her feet, Peach stopped trying to tread so lightly. “Good morning.” she answered, clasping her hands in front of her. “I suppose I am a little hungry.”

Mario nodded to the dining table with only a brief glance over his shoulder to her, before he got back to cooking. His movements were somehow graceful. Though, as Peach went toward the dining table, she narrowed her eyes. No, graceful wasn’t the right word. He didn’t move like there was an art to it. He just moved with precision, an exactness and certainty with every breath. That kind of skill was prevalent in art, she supposed. Peach wondered if he was very well coordinated.

Maybe she should ask him what he did for a living. Or, at least what he did before he ended up being her cat. Peach studied the table as she sat down.

To her right, Mario opened up a cabinet without looking up from the skillet, and grabbed a plate. The movement was almost second nature; he knew exactly where every dish was, every cup and bowl. Peach supposed he would have learned after living with her for so long. He served up a plate of eggs and bacon, poured a cup of coffee, and brought it all to her. As soon as he set the food down before her, she noticed he had only made enough for her to eat.

It occurred to her that she had forgotten to feed Pancake last night.

“Are you going to eat?” she asked him just before he could turn around.

Mario blinked at her. She made no move to start eating, she hadn’t even brought her hands above the table. “No, it’s for you.” he sounded confused.

The food looked as wonderful as it smelled. Peach was hungry; her stomach growled at the sight of the fluffy eggs, and the greasy scent of the bacon. She couldn’t imagine how hungry he must be after missing an entire meal and then staying up all night. “Why don’t you take some?” she offered, pushing her plate toward him. When was the last time he had eaten real food? The thought made her feel pity toward him.

What, maybe she had given him bits of pepperoni? Some breakfast pastry? No wonder Pancake had liked human food so much, it all made so much more sense.

“Ah, no, I’m alright.” Mario smiled and waved it off, trying to edge back into the kitchen. “You should hurry; you have work soon.”

Peach found herself smiling. Why was her cat feeding her, telling her she should go to work? Maybe he felt bad, perhaps he thought it was time he did something for her. But, as long as he was under her roof, he still deserved to eat. Though she didn’t think he would accept no matter how she insisted. She came up with a compromise. “Okay, how about this; I’m going to eat, and whatever I don’t finish, you eat.”

Mario still looked apprehensive. “Really, I’m fine. You don’t have to worry about me.” He inched back like he was ready to race away as soon as she turned around.

Only, she wouldn’t turn. Instead, she gave him her best puppy eyes. “Please?” she implored.

She saw him shift his weight from side to side. She saw him wring his hands and try his hardest to look away. She saw his resolve breaking. Finally, he had to look at the floor. “Okay.” he conceded in a quiet voice.

Pleased, Peach picked up her fork and started eating. She wouldn’t let the poor man starve himself. Even if she had to resort to puppy eyes. Though, he didn’t have to know that she intended to leave plenty for him. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him look up and watch her, for just a moment. She could practically feel his worry and his confusion.

“This is amazing,” she said, once he started back to the kitchen. “Thank you, for making breakfast. You didn’t have to.” Peach had eaten many eggs done in many different ways, but somehow, even though they were plain and scrambled, the eggs she ate had to be some of the best she had ever tasted. She wondered what he could have possibly done to make them so good.

He was putting some dishes in the sink. “It’s nothing, Princess.” he answered her, and she couldn’t help but wonder why he had cooked for her. Did he feel like he owed her, after she fed him every day for the past year? Did he just want to do something nice? Maybe it had nothing to do with her, maybe he just wanted to do something that would make him feel human again. Though, if that were the case, she figured he would have made himself something to eat to begin with.

Peach didn’t think he would tell her if she asked. He was far too formal with her. Maybe he had picked up the eggshells he was walking on to make her breakfast. The thought made her smile, and she wondered how she could break the ice with him. “I thought I told you that you didn’t have to call me Princess.” she glanced at him with a coy smile over her cup of coffee, and then made a show of checking her watch. “Oh, would you look at the time! My goodness, I should be on my way to work.”

Mario didn’t even have time to open his mouth as she stood up from her chair and hurried to her room, to the living area, grabbing all the things she needed. But judging by the look on his face, he had figured out she purposefully left him half of her breakfast.

She had just pulled on her coat and started to the door. Mario was standing close to the door as well, with the expression of someone who had a desperate question. She could feel his confusion and indecision as she was on her way out, because this was the only time he really sought her attention.

“Look, I know there’s a lot to talk about.” she told him, reaching for the doorknob. “I have a lot of questions, and I’m sure there’s a lot more that you have to tell me. But I have to go to work. Just, stay here, alright? We can figure this out when I get back.”

Reaching for her arm, Mario stopped her before she could open the door. “Are you sure? I can leave. I don’t have to stay here if you don’t want me to. I can find somewhere else to stay and come back to talk if that’s what you want. Just, please, tell me what you want me to do, Princess.”

His grip on her was gentle. It was his expression that really compelled her to stop. He just looked at her like he was lost in a very big place and he didn’t know how to get out. Like a fish out of water, or a bird below the ground. Or a cat in an apartment who wasn’t really a cat, but a man who had been missing from society for almost a year.

But there wasn’t complete helplessness. Just concern. It occurred to Peach that Mario had apparently been through worse.

All he needed was direction. “Peach. My name is Peach.” she smiled at him, hoping she could convey that he wasn’t the burden he was so afraid of. “I want you to stay here, and I want to help you. Is that okay?”

Mario blinked at her several times, and his hand slowly released her arm. She didn’t think he had expected to be asked what he thought. Wordlessly, he nodded.

“Okay, good. I’ll be back soon. You can use the shower, if you want. Or sleep, or whatever you want to do.” Peach opened the door, which came open a little too easily without a lock.

Just before she left, Mario gave a small wave. “Stay--stay warm.” he offered feebly after her.

She just smiled at him, and once she closed the door, thoughts of the mysterious cat man chased her all the way down the frigid roads.

O~o~O

“Miss Peach? Hello?”

A hand was waving in front of her face. Peach blinked, and her eyes focused on Mr. Brewster.

“Oh my goodness! I’m so sorry, Mr. Brewster.” Peach shook her head to clear her mind and quickly tried to get back to what she was doing. What was that, again? She strained to remember, rubbing her eyes. Right, she had to clean the dishes.

Brewster just shook his head at her with an amused smile. “Welcome back to earth,” he chuckled. “You are normally so focused, Miss Peach. What is it that has you so distracted?”

Before Peach could smile and apologize, another voice spoke up. “Ah, I know that face she had. It’s love, isn’t it? Young love,” sighed Blathers, resting his chin in his palm and giving a dreamy look to nothing in particular.

Blathers was Brewster’s best friend, and he often came while the cafe wasn’t busy for a cup of tea. The cafe didn’t sell tea, the tea shop across the street did. But Brewster had shown Peach the secret box below the counter where he kept Blathers’ favorite blend of herbal tea, and shown her how to make the perfect cup.

Peach liked Blathers, but sometimes she had no idea where some of his thoughts and ramblings came from. “Oh, no, nothing like that,” she waved him off bashfully, aware that her cheeks had become a little warm. “I’m just tired. I went to bed a little late last night.”

“True love,” Brewster spoke, as if she hadn’t said anything at all. He contemplated the coffee cup in his hand, his glasses shining under the soft golden light. “True love is like a good cup of coffee. It warms your body, enriches the soul. It makes your heart beat quick. Maybe it’s sweet and soft like sugar and milk, or maybe it’s hot and intense, fresh off the pot. But, either way, it keeps you coming back for more.”

When Peach didn’t say anything, Blathers smiled at her, his small face rounded like that of an owl. “Or tea,” he offered helpfully. “It doesn’t have to be coffee. Whatever suits your taste.”

Peach found herself scrubbing for too long on a cup. “That-- that’s very nice, but I don’t--”

“Here, rinse that off. I’ll dry it. You drink this and tell me it’s not true love.” Brewster passed her a cup across the counter, and moved around her to the sink to finish her job with swift and precise movements.

The coffee was her usual order, the Italian blend with a lot of milk and just enough sugar to make it sweet. Peach couldn’t even apologize for not finishing the dishes, as Brewster steered her around the counter to sit with Blathers. She sat down heavily and closed her eyes, breathing in the steam.

She loved the smell of coffee. The very scent had brought her into the cafe when she had just moved in to the town, kept her coming back again and again during her first listless days free of the Mushroom Kingdom. Brewster started to recognize her pretty quickly. He hadn’t been one for conversation, but Peach had been trying to figure out small talk with someone who didn’t know she was a Princess. Who better than the gruff and quiet owner of the cafe? There were probably a lot of better people, but Peach didn’t know how to start a conversation with just anyone she saw.

Regardless, Brewster turned out not to be so intimidating. He was actually quite soft-hearted, and during her year working for him, Peach had learned to appreciate a whole new dimension of simple things, like coffee. Coffee was simple. Mornings are simple. Rain on the windows and sodium street lights are simple.

Peach knew she would miss Brewster, and Blathers, and their silly little debates on quiet mornings. Coffee or tea, jackets or vests, the two squabbled constantly, but never seriously. She would miss them, when she inevitably had to go back home.

The thought made something catch in her throat, while she sat there breathing in the coffee with her eyes closed.

“Well, are you going to drink it? It’s no good when it’s cool.” Brewster spoke up, and Peach couldn’t help but laugh a little when she could hear the smile in his voice. She looked up, and saw both Brewster and Blathers watching her expectantly.

“Of course!” she picked up the cup, and took a long sip. The coffee filled up her heart, warmed her soul. There was nothing quite like a cup of Brewster’s coffee on a cold morning. “It’s wonderful, as always. Thank you.” she told him, and she meant it. She could see the way his eyes shined with pride at her words.

She took another sip at the same time Blathers was taking a sip of his tea. He seemed too immersed in his thoughts to notice. “True love,” he sighed, echoing Brewster from earlier. “Tell me, Miss Peach. Do you know how to tell if there is true love?”

Brewster looked up between them with interest, his sly little smirk telling Peach that he already knew what Blathers was going to say. Peach looked to Blathers with a small smile. “No, I suppose I don’t.” she answered him. She expected it was something like true love remembers your favorite tea, or true love warms you up just like a spot of tea. It was always tea with him.

But Blathers just smiled, distantly. “True love is when he does the dishes.”

Peach almost choked on her coffee. Brewster watched her, but put his head down to laugh to himself. “I’m sorry, what?” she asked, facing Blathers with wide eyes. She almost felt like laughing, too. Did she misunderstand? She wondered if he was joking, or if he was actually naming some serious standard that he had. If that were the case, she didn’t know if it was a good standard. She had never been in a relationship, much less been in love before.

“Dishes, sure,” Brewster chuckled. “He means the little things. If he does the dishes, he’s a good man. True love can take the form of little, small things, that aren’t meant to be noticed. Like doing the dishes. Or letting you choose what channel you both watch together. Reminding you what you were supposed to buy from the market. Cooking for you because he feels like it.”

Peach observed that Brewster had just finished the dishes. She was reminded of the secret box of tea below the counter, just for Blathers. She had a question, but she decided no to ask it.

Then, when she really heard what Brewster was saying, she remembered walking out of her room and seeing Mario making breakfast for her.

She tried to scrub the thought out of her head as soon as she recognized it. No, Mr. Brewster and Mr. Blathers could talk about true love all they wanted, but she couldn’t try and connect it with her life. Sure, she maybe had a crush here and there, specifically on a mysterious hero like the Jumpman. But she didn’t have true love. She couldn’t really have it, and she shouldn’t want it. She had a duty to her Kingdom and the Kingdom didn’t have time for true love.

She especially didn’t have true love when the subject at hand was a man who was really her cat? Why was she even considering it?

“Oh, yes. And fixing things. True love does a lot of fixing,” Blathers mumbled, and Peach turned to see that Blathers was falling asleep over his cup of tea again. He was always falling asleep. Peach noticed the way Brewster was smiling. He wasn’t a man who smiled very much.

“I hope he’s a good man, this man who is distracting you.” Brewster told her, his voice soft out of consideration for the snoozing Blathers beside her. “He is right. True love fixes things that you didn’t know needed to be fixed.”

O~o~O

Katrina was waiting outside of the tea shop once Peach had left the cafe.

Peach approached her warily; the woman was a bundle of scarves and, once revealed, looked to be quite cozy. “Hello, dear,” she grinned, catlike, her eyes shining bright in the winter light. “All is well, I hope? It was a good thing that I gave you that lucky cat; I heard about some robberies around where you live.”

“Oh!” Peach remembered the break-in, remembered how the only evidence of anyone getting in was the broken lock. “Yes, I’m fine. I was very lucky.”

With a furtive glance in the direction of the mountains, Katrina wrinkled her nose. “Those kids from the North, always coming here and causing a fuss. They think it’s funny to cause such panic.” there were teeth to her words, a genuine dislike for the kids she spoke of.

Not quite sure what to say, Peach just nodded along, but felt a little pained. There were kids who broke into her apartment? Just for fun?

Katrina looked back to her, then. Her eyes were the color of a sunset. “You remember what I told you about taking chances,” Katrina prompted her, and Peach found that she did not in fact remember what Katrina had told her.

Guilty, she shook her head.

But Katrina merely smiled. “Take them while you can, dear. They should look something like this,” Katrina opened up her palm and showed Peach a golden bell. A bell that looked exactly like Pancake’s bell.

Before she could say anything, before she could even open her mouth, Katrina stood and hobbled toward the door of the tea shop. “It’s too cold for these bones,” Peach heard her complain to herself.

Peach really started to consider looking for a car she could buy, because by the time she got to her apartment building, she could barely feel her fingers and her nose. Her feet also started to feel a little like they weren’t even attached. But by the time she heaved herself up the stairs and fumbled with her keys, she realized someone was crouched outside of her door.

She just remembered she didn’t even need her keys, because of the broken lock. So her first thought was panic. Were the robbers back?

But the man turned, and she recognized her neighbor. “Oh, Mr. Alfonso,” she breathed out. “Goodness, you almost gave me a scare.”

“Oh! Hi there, Miss Peach!” Alfonso jumped up, and waved at her with a sheepish smile. “Sorry about that! I was kind of waiting for you. You see, I was walking out to go to the store when all of a sudden I saw this cat!”

He pointed to the floor, and Peach saw Pancake rub against Alfonso’s leg. Peach raised her eyebrows.

Alfonso kept talking. “And I thought to myself, hey I know this little guy! This is my neighbor’s cat! So I was trying to figure out how he got out and if I could get him back in. It’s freezing, you know, I was just trying to keep him warm. Then I saw that your lock was broken. I heard about some robberies and stuff, so I got a little worried. And then, I, uh…” he gestured again to the ground, where some tools were scattered about along with some wood. “Wouldn’t you know it, I happened to have an extra set of the doorknob and the lock from the landlord! I’m sorry I didn’t really ask permission first, but I kinda started to fix your door. If that’s okay. Your cat is really friendly, by the way. I tried to put him inside, but he kept coming out.”

He spoke with a hurried sense, like he was afraid of her being angry, and also with several circular hand motions. He also had a very slight accent that was familiar to her somehow. It hit her just as fast; it certainly wasn’t as prominent as Mario’s, but Alfonso must also be Italian.

Pancake sauntered over to her, with his little bell jingling. While he weaved in and out of her legs, Peach tried to overcome her stunned silence. “Oh, I mean-- Mr. Alfonso, that’s very kind of you. Thank you so much, I don’t know what I would have done if Pancake were stuck out here in the cold. The poor thing.” she knelt down by instinct to scratch Pancake’s ears, and looked down into his eyes, Mario’s eyes, with an amused shake of her head. She then looked back at Alfonso. “Thank you, really. You didn’t have to help me, that’s so very kind of you. You must be freezing! Do you, um, do you want to warm up inside for a bit?”

She thought it was a normal offer, and she glanced to Pancake for help. He gave her a reassuring mew.

Alfonso shuddered, and she could hear the shiver in his laugh. “That would be nice, thank you.” he grinned, and Peach stood to open the door for him.

As soon as he was inside, he let out a dramatic “Brrr!” to which Peach couldn’t help but smile. He shook himself off and shuffled awkwardly in her doorway while Peach set her things on the counter. Pancake dashed into the living area. Peach found her apartment was a lot better than the outside, but it was still quite cold inside. She wondered if the heater was on.

“Here, why don’t I get some tea started, you can sit down if you want!” she started to the kitchen, gesturing toward the chairs in the dining area.

Alfonso hugged himself and tried to lean comfortably against the counter. “I’m alright, but I’ll never say no to tea.” he gave a chuckle. “I’m almost done with the door. It’ll be good as new, and then I can be out of your hair.”

Peach started the heat on the stove and looked back to him. Something was different about her kitchen. She wasn’t sure what exactly. “Oh, it’s no trouble! Honestly, you’re the one helping me! If you like, I can pay you, both for the time you were working and for the materials.” Peach tried to think of what else she could do to repay him. Tea really wasn’t very much.

“No, no, none of that.” Alfonso waved his hands. “You don’t have to do anything. I just wanted to help. Gotta keep the complex safe!” he made some silly pose, like a superhero, and Peach couldn’t help but laugh.

She got a mug from the cabinet and started looking for her tea. “Are you sure?” she cast him a worried glance over her shoulder.

The kettle started to whistle. “I’m sure.” Alfonso nodded, and started to look around her apartment. “Hey, wow, this looks pretty nice. Your place is really clean.”

Really clean? Peach remembered with slight horror that she had been putting off dishes for about a week, but with a panicked glance to the sink, she found no dishes. The counters had all been wiped down, the place even smelled fresh and lemon-y, like her soap.

Everything was clean. Mario had cleaned everything; just a glance into the living area showed her that even her books had been organized, the blankets had been put away, and the trash all thrown out.

But, that wasn’t what she was focused on. She felt some color come to her cheeks. Mario had done the dishes. She remembered her conversation with Brewster and Blathers very clearly.

“Er, thank you,” she answered Alfonso awkwardly, almost spilling boiling water out of the kettle. She poured him a cup, mixed some sugar in it, and then gave the mug to Alfonso. “Take as much time as you need to get warm.”

Alfonso didn’t take long. He was very thankful for the tea, and once he finished, he got right back to working on the door. He had made a lot of progress before she had come home. All he really had to do was replace the section of the door frame that had splintered, which she could paint later when it got warmer, he said, and then install the new knob and lock. A few screws later, he tested the door. The lock worked just fine.

“Thank you again!” Peach called out to him, waving as he went downstairs to go to the market. Then, letting out a big breath, she closed the door. She never thought she would have been so satisfied to hear the lock click.

The apartment was silent. Peach looked around, to her clean counters, the spotless floor. Mario must have made himself quite busy while she was gone. She thought it was funny; normally she would come home to find Pancake napping.

When she wandered into the living area, she found more or less of what she expected.

Mario had fallen asleep on the couch. She supposed he had changed back into a man some time ago, or changed back in his sleep. Either way, at least Alfonso wouldn’t have been able to see him over the back of the couch. He lay on his side, one of his arms sort of dangling over the edge. He wasn’t curled up very much; he was short enough that he didn’t have to try too hard to fit in between the arms of the sofa.

He breathed in long and deep. Peach couldn’t help but feel a rush of fondness, just seeing him snoozing there.

She came around and knelt close to him, just watching. His face had a softness to it, and his thick eyebrows and mustache were becoming to him in a way that shouldn’t have been. There was a goofy sort of handsomeness to him, she thought. Just like Pancake had been a goofy sort of adorable for a cat. He probably had a cute smile.

Without too much of a second thought, Peach reached up to his head. She stroked his curly brown hair, the same way she stroked Pancake’s back when she found him asleep. His hair was soft. He smelled like shampoo, and also like clean laundry. He must have washed his clothes while she was gone.

Mario stirred. She felt bad; he had been awake for so long, and she was getting him up again from a much needed nap. She started to retract her hand. But he had already opened his eyes.

He blinked at her, with half-focused eyes. At first, he didn’t try to move, but then he must have recognized her, because he started to make some attempt to sit up. It didn’t really work. He must have been exhausted.

Peach gave a sympathetic smile; Pancake had done the same when she tried to rouse him from deep sleep. He would just yawn and maybe sort of try to get up. She had thought that he was just lazy, but now she was rethinking that. She continued to stroke his hair while he watched her.

“You really are my kitty, aren’t you?” she asked him, smiling when she saw his clear fight to stay awake. His head would nod slightly, his eyes would close just a bit too long for him to be blinking. But he was trying.

He squinted. His arm that dangled over the side of the couch shifted. “Mmhm.” he managed to answer her, trying to push himself up. He sounded husky with sleep.

Peach laughed gently. “Sorry for waking you. You can lay down. Here,” she reached to grab a pillow, and helped him rest his head on it. “There you are. When was the last time you slept on a bed with a pillow, huh?”

When Mario didn’t answer her, Peach realized what the answer was. She pursed her lips, and Mario blinked blearily at her.

She tried to cover her awkwardness with a sigh and a smile, and she reached up to pet his head again. “Thank you, for doing the dishes. For cleaning. You did a lot today.” she noticed he closed his eyes a little longer at her touch. Every time her hand rested on him, he closed his eyes. Every time she lifted her hand, he struggled to open them. “Are you okay? I guess you just need some sleep, you poor thing.”

Mario peered at her with his eyes barely open. “Feels nice,” he mumbled into the pillow, before he closed his eyes. She could tell he was still awake by the way he was breathing.

Peach realized he meant how she was petting him. “Oh,” she murmured, and continued to pet him for a little longer. “Alright. I’ll let you be.” She stood, and she thought Mario was mostly asleep.

The apartment really was a little chilly. Peach looked around for a way to keep him warm, and spotted a blanket folded over the back of another chair.

As soon as she rested the blanket over Mario, he took a deep breath. “Thank you.” he spoke in a faded voice, his accent thick and low. He opened his eyes just a little to look at her.

With a smile, Peach just reached to turn out the lights. “Sweet dreams, Mario.”

Sneaking around her own apartment was difficult.

Peach had never realized just how much noise she made in general until she was trying to keep quiet. Every step she took felt like it echoed. When she was normally so sure of herself carrying dishes or cooking or holding anything, she found herself to be clumsy and uncoordinated. She planned on making dinner, something that was easy to keep warm so that Mario could eat once he woke up, and then sneaking off with her helping to her own room.

She didn’t know how long he would be asleep. He could sleep through the night, for all she knew. Standing over her bubbling pot of ramen and huddled in her robe for warmth, she peeked into the living area every once in a while. Mario had shifted once to turn over, but otherwise he was still. He snored, ever so quietly. Peach thought the soft noise was cute.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if he was around. Peach still had a lot that she wanted to ask him, but she didn’t think she needed to rush him. He wasn’t a threat, just a surprise. And it wasn’t like he was ungrateful either; Peach glanced around her sparkling kitchen, wondering when was the last time it had ever been so clean.

The dishes. Blathers had said that true love is when he does the dishes. A small task, meant to be overlooked. Peach wondered if Mario had become attached to her after spending so long as her cat, the same way she had been attached to him. She certainly loved her little kitty, but she wasn’t quite sure what to make of him as a person. Though, more and more often, she found her thoughts to him softening the same way they softened to Pancake. Because he was Pancake.

Regardless of how he was a man, he had still lived with her for the past year, and he clearly cared about her well-being and her happiness. She felt a strong urge to get to know him. She wanted to know what was in his head, what sort of wild events lead to their situation. But she also wanted to know who he was. Where did he come from? Where did he live, or where should he be? Does he have a family? He had mentioned a brother. Does he miss him? What sort of things did he like? What did he think of her, was she a good enough owner? Did he at least like living with her?

She wondered where he was going to go after all was said and done.

He had clearly intended to leave her, for her own sake. And while she appreciated the sentiment, she couldn’t help but worry. She had harbored a man for almost a year, a man who was believed to have been missing. How was he going to explain himself? Would he tell the truth? Who would believe him? Could he return to his normal life like nothing happened?

Peach understood then, as she was serving up the ramen, that she had to help him. She couldn’t just let him leave. There had to be some way for her to help. She was a Princess! Surely there were means by which she could go about protecting him, maybe she could even come up with a plausible story for his absence. Though, as she got the two bowls ready, she found that she had no ideas.

When she peeked into the living room one last time, she saw Mario was sitting up.

“Oh! I didn’t realize you were awake.” Peach hurried back into the kitchen and grabbed his bowl. “Here, I made you some dinner.”

She set the bowl down on the table in front of him, and then went around turning on the lights in the living area again. Then, she looped around the other way so she could sit next to him on the couch. She gave him plenty of space; she could see that while he was up, he was barely awake. He rubbed his eyes and clutched the blanket around himself.

“Thank you,” he muttered, and Peach found herself smiling while she watched his slow movements. The poor man was still half asleep.

She sat back comfortably on the couch, and started eating her ramen while Mario struggled with his bowl. He ate leaning over the table. The blanket was big and fluffy and seemed to swallow him up no matter how he sat. Peach tried not to stare, tried not to think about how endearing he was.

Instead, she tried to look at the blank TV screen. There was nothing on, but she spent most nights staring at whatever was playing anyway. They ate together in silence.

Mario must have been hungry. He finished a lot quicker than she did, and then stared at the floor for a few moments. Peach had to try really hard not to smile or laugh; he almost looked like he was lost, like he had forgotten what he was supposed to do. He seemed to remember again by the time Peach finished and took both of their bowls back to the kitchen.

He started to put on his shoes, which had been just under the table. Though, he seemed to have some trouble putting them on his feet. His hands moved slowly, and he squinted down at the shoes like he was trying to make sense of them.

“Going so soon?” Peach asked him mildly, after sitting back down on the couch with him and watching for a little bit.

Mario managed to get one shoe on. He turned his head a little and nodded vaguely to her. His eyes were only half open. “...Yes.”

While he got back to trying to get his other shoe, Peach relaxed and curled up on the couch with her arms folded. He didn’t seem like he was going to be able to go anywhere anytime soon, or at least he wouldn’t get very far. “I understand if you want to leave, but you’re welcome to stay. I don’t mind you being here. Obviously, I have some questions.”

The way he moved was almost like slow motion. Like he had performed the movement already, and now he was being played back and slowed down. “I bothered you ...” Mario mumbled in reply, only to interrupt himself with a yawn. “I bothered you enough.” he finally got his other shoe on.

“I want to help you.” Peach reached across the couch to where she thought his shoulder was, and rested her hand there for just a moment. “I’m just confused.”

When Mario turned to look at her, she realized he was waiting. Waiting for her questions, though with the slight fear in his eyes, she thought he might feel like he was being interrogated. Peach tried to smile, tried to assure him that she was just curious. “How-- how did you know I was a Princess? I don’t think I ever really mentioned it out loud here.” she asked.

Mario nodded slowly. He considered the floor, and rested his elbows on his knees. “I knew already. My brother and I, we live in the Mushroom Kingdom.”

Peach stared at him. “You--You’re one of my citizens?” she shook her head, and blinked several times. “You’re one of my citizens, and you’re going to leave? Mario, if you’re from my Kingdom, then I can definitely help you!”

He looked down at the floor, avoiding her eyes. “I know.” he answered quietly. “I told you there are a lot of reasons I decided to stay with you.”

Sitting up and shifting just a little closer, Peach dipped her head to try and get him to look at her. “So, why are you trying to leave? If you know I can help you, why do you want to go?” she implored, trying to understand what he was thinking.

But Mario kept his gaze fixed adamantly on the floor. “It’s a long story…” he tried to say, but he only convinced Peach that there was a lot more he wasn’t telling her. He took one look at her face and abruptly ducked his head. Guilt. He was guilty, but why? “It’s what I told you. I think you would feel better if I left. You are inviting me to stay here because you feel bad for me, because that’s just how you are. You’re kind. But I don’t want for you to feel bad. Or unsafe, because of me.”

There was something more he had to say, but he set his jaw and stayed quiet. Peach narrowed her eyes and scrutinized his face. If he wouldn’t tell her, then she had to put it together herself.

She shook her head slightly. “But that’s not all, is it? If you were just worried that I would feel bad or unsafe, then you wouldn’t have gone to the lengths that you did to rectify that.” When Mario blinked at her, she realized he didn’t understand. “The break-in. They didn’t take anything. They didn’t take anything because you stopped them, didn’t you? When you were meowing outside of the bathroom, you were trying to warn me. And then, you watched my door all night after that to try and help me feel safer.”

She was getting somewhere. Mario didn’t say anything, but the way he looked at the floor was all she needed to see. “And today! Earlier, with Mr. Alfonso! That wasn’t some happy coincidence, was it? You went out there as a cat to coax him into fixing the lock, because you knew he would. If you were really concerned that you were the one making me afraid, you wouldn’t have tried so hard to make me feel otherwise, would you?” Peach crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes at him.

Mario shifted the way he was sitting a few times. He no longer looked sleepy, but he was still tired. Or weary. “I couldn’t just let them break in. They were dangerous, they would have hurt you. I had to drive them off. And Mr. Alfonso...He knows that you live alone. If he were to see a man in your apartment, he would be more suspicious. I didn’t have the tools to fix the door anyway, but I knew he did. So I led him to your door.”

The blanket had fallen from his shoulders, and he sat there hugging himself like he was still cold. Or afraid. He still wouldn’t look at her.

“Yes, but why? Why would you do those things? Why clean up, why cook, why do all of this for me?” Peach asked, and then she tapped her chin. “Is it because I’m the Princess? Do you feel like you have to serve me? Because you don’t, really, I’m just a person. I’m really ordinary, I just have to wear a crown sometimes.”

When she looked up, she realized Mario was trying to hide a smile. “What?”

He shook his head. “Nothing. I’m sorry.” he kept his head down, but she could still see his face. When he smiled, she noticed he had dimples. “I know that you’re just a person. I lived here for a year, I know you. But I would not say that you’re ordinary.”

Taken aback, Peach just blinked at him. He shook his head again and chuckled to himself. Peach felt like he had some inside joke that he couldn’t really explain. What was so funny? She didn’t think he was making fun of her. No, his smile was too genuine for that.  When he finally looked up at her, his eyes seemed to shine with his amusement. “I did those things because I care about you.”

When he looked at her, she saw that gravity again. The gravity that Pancake had constantly fixed her with, that made her feel like maybe her cat liked her too. She didn’t know what to call what she saw in his face then, as a man. It was something very soft, and it made her feel a slight flutter in her chest.

But that couldn’t be the whole story. Peach was the one to avert her eyes. “...But there’s more to it than that, isn’t there?” she asked. Her voice had gone quiet, almost shy. She felt flattered in a way she couldn’t explain. Maybe no one had ever spoken to her that way before. That was how she reasoned with herself, anyway. “There’s something else that you’re not telling me.”

The mirthful light in his eyes dimmed. “I--Yes. There is.” he said. He looked down at his hands.

Mario took a deep breath, and then opened his mouth. Peach’s phone started ringing.

They both turned to face the table with a jolt. “Daisy,” Peach sighed, trying to calm her thudding heart. She gave an apologetic smile to Mario. “Sorry, I’d better get this. Give me a minute?”

He nodded, with a knowing smile. Peach nodded to him and reached to grab the phone. She thought about going to her room, but then she didn’t see the point of privacy. Mario had probably heard every other conversation that she had with Daisy. It didn’t really matter whether he listened or not. She decided to just face the other way. “Hello?”

“Hey there, girl! What’re you up to?” Daisy’s boisterous tone was so loud that Peach almost had to hold the phone away from her ear.

Peach winced. “Oh, nothing.” She glanced to Mario. His amusement was plain to see out of the corner of her eye. “I’m, uh, you know, just, um.”

“Watching the show.” Mario offered in a low voice.

“Watching the show!” Peach repeated quickly, looking at the blank TV screen. She had forgotten about the new episode. Next to her, she could tell that Mario was trying not to smile again. “Yeah. I’m watching the show. What are, what are you doing?”

She desperately hoped Daisy didn’t ask her anything specific about the episode. When she glanced to Mario, he gave her an encouraging nod. “Just getting ready. But listen, I have got some news for you! So you remember that guy that saved Pauline awhile back?” Daisy asked.

Peach blinked. “The guy that saved Pauline? You mean the Jumpman?” she asked. Mario stiffened.

“Yeah, that’s him! And also, you remember how you kinda used to have a crush on him? You really wanted to meet him and stuff.” Peach felt her face flush with heat, and wondered if the phone’s volume was loud enough that Mario could hear. She didn’t know what to think when he abruptly turned his face away and coughed into his fist. “Don’t deny it, I know you liked him. Anyway, remember how I said Luigi might have a brother?”

Daisy was asking her to remember a lot. Peach tilted her head, thinking of the picture Daisy had sent her of the man. She had to put a face to a name. He looked familiar somehow. “Uh, vaguely?” Maybe she had forgotten.

She knew what Daisy’s little gasp meant. It meant she could barely contain herself. “Okay, so it turns out that Luigi’s brother is the Jumpman! That’s the good news.” she said. Peach felt alarmed, and a little distracted when she glanced to her right and saw that Mario had folded his hands and lowered his head.

“...And the bad news?” Peach asked tentatively.

Daisy took a little moment before she answered. “Well, the bad news is that he’s missing.” she sighed. “Luigi--Luigi’s big brother, the Jumpman, he’s been gone for about a year now. Just gone, poof. No sign of him anywhere. It’s kinda torn Luigi up.”

The Jumpman. Big brother. Missing. About a year. The image of Louis. G. Peach found pieces coming together in her mind. She slowly turned to face Mario. She could see the family resemblance. “Interesting.” she told him, and he gave her a meek glance. Then, to Daisy, “The Jumpman, what’s his name?”

“Oh, it’s Mario. How’s that for Italian? It’s kinda funny, actually. Their last name is Mario, but it’s also his first name. Weird, huh?” Daisy laughed.

Peach narrowed her eyes and nodded. “Very weird.” she agreed. Mario shifted uncomfortably under her stare.

After a little bit of giving him a hard look, Peach took a deep breath and turned away again. On the other end, Daisy went on. “And, um, here’s the bad-bad news. I didn’t think you’d be too happy about this, but it’s kind of important.” she said. Peach blinked a few times. Daisy rarely had bad news for her. “After the whole thing with Pauline, your father got really interested in the Jumpman. Like, weirdly interested. I think he saw he and Luigi as potential soldiers or guardians or something. Toadsworth must have gotten him all riled up about your safety at the time. Turns out your father sent the Mario brothers to your village ahead of you, under orders to protect you from afar.”

Peach blinked. “ What? ”

“Yeah! That’s what I said! I don’t know what they were thinking, especially behind your back like that. I went up and had a talk with them today as soon as Luigi told me. But yeah, so, uh, you almost got to live with the Jumpman.” Next to her, Mario had cringed, but Peach kept her eyes on the floor. “They were supposed to pretend to be your maintenance guys or something. And then Mario went missing. Luigi stayed for a little while, just to make sure you arrived safe and everything, and to wait. He has no idea where his brother could have gone, he didn’t want to just up and leave him. But after a while, it became apparent that he wasn’t going to come back. So Luigi came home. As mysterious as it all is, your father didn’t feel a need to send anyone else after that. He’s convinced that Mario just ran off. That he didn’t want the responsibility. They were reluctant to accept the King’s orders, you know. But Luigi doesn’t think so. His brother isn’t the kind of guy to run away.”

Peach had stopped listening after a little while. “My father, my own advisor…” she murmured, leaning forward and feeling very small. “They didn’t trust that I could take care of myself? They could have...They could have at least told me they wanted someone to accompany me, but they pretended like they were fine with me going alone…”

Mario was looking down, and his leg was bouncing. He kept fussing with his hands. Daisy let out a sigh. “I know. I know. I’m sorry.” she replied, her tone quiet. “I would be angry, too. And I know their reasoning is something about how you’re the Princess of a big important Kingdom, but that’s not the issue here. The issue is trust.” Peach clutched the edge of the couch cushion while she listened, gripping with a weak fist. She nodded. Then, she remembered Daisy couldn’t see her. She felt something thick catch in her throat.

“You know, I, um.” she took a deep breath. “It’s getting a little late…”

Daisy let out a soft hum. “Okay, I understand. I’ll let you get to bed. Get some sleep, I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Okay.” Peach said.

“I know you’re upset, and I’m sorry. Goodnight, girl. I miss you.”

“Okay. Night. I miss you, too.”

The phone clicked. Peach slowly lowered her hand.

Mario shifted a little. “Princess, I--”

“Save it, Mario.” Peach held up her hand, and let out a sigh. “I don’t want to hear it right now.”

Her eyes were stinging. She kept her face away from him while she stood, and tried to take in a breath that didn’t waver. Mario stood and started to follow her. “I’m sorry.” he said. “I didn’t want--”

“Didn’t want what?” Peach turned on him, her tone sharp and defensive. The way her eyes threatened to tear up and her throat seemed to tighten made her angry. He couldn’t see her cry. She loomed over him, tried to stand up tall and raise her voice. “Didn’t want to tell me? Didn’t want to stay here? I bet they paid you a lot to keep quiet, huh?”

Mario’s eyes widened, and he froze. “No! That’s not--”

With a bitter laugh, Peach shook her head. “That’s all this is. I apparently can’t handle anything on my own. I’m just a stupid little Princess who needs to be constantly monitored, right? That’s why you stayed when you could have run away. I guess I must look really helpless if even you, Mr. Jumpman, didn’t think I could handle myself.”

All she wanted was for him to not follow her. But as soon as the words came out of her mouth, she regretted them. The look on his face, for a moment, was fierce. Angry. He opened his mouth as if to defend himself. But then, his expression lost its hardness. He just looked hurt. “Princess…”

She bit her lip and turned away. It was too late to apologize. “Just leave me alone.” she muttered, though her tone had lost its teeth. “I’m going to bed.”

The look on his face was more than she could bear. But the tears had started falling even before she managed to get into her room and shut the door.

As soon as she shut it, she rested her back against it. She should go back out there and apologize. She should wrap that poor man in a hug and tell him she knew it wasn’t his fault. He was just tangled up in a big mess with her. Maybe her father did have a point. Maybe she couldn’t really handle being on her own. She sniffled and swiped at her eyes. Maybe they were all right.

But it was too late. Maybe she should try and sleep, and let Mario get some rest, too. She would be more level headed in the morning. She didn’t have work, so she had time to smooth things over with him again. That poor man, she had to get it through his head that he could use her name. He kept calling her Princess by habit, she thought. Slowly, she peeled herself from the door, and trudged to the bathroom to change and get ready for bed.

Just before she crawled into her warm sheets, she stopped to listen. She couldn’t hear any sign that he was still out there. But she hadn’t heard the front door open, so maybe he just went to sit down. She hoped he could sleep comfortably on the couch.

Peach curled up and hugged a small pillow close to her chest. Her throat was so tight from the effort of restraining her sobs. Her tears made her cheeks feel cold as soon as they touched the open air.

There was a soft knock on her door.

Wiping at her face and jolting to rest herself up on her elbows, Peach tried to clear her throat so she didn’t sound like she was crying. “You can--You can come in.” she said.

None of the lights in her room were on. But she saw the dim light from the living room when her door cracked open. She couldn’t hear him, couldn’t see his silhouette. She squinted, straining to see. Why was he just standing outside of her door?

“Mario?” she asked, and her voice sounded so fragile. “It’s okay, you can come in. I’m sorry I--”

She heard a little bell. Pancake jumped on her bed, and startled her. “Oh,” she breathed out.

Pancake, Mario, he came closer to her and butted his head against hers, purring loudly. “Oh,” Peach said again, and reached to scratch his ears. “I’m sorry, I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean…” she tried to speak, but he kept rubbing his face against hers.

He sniffed her face, her cheeks. His whiskers tickled. Then he rubbed against her, purring and purring away like a little motor. Peach realized he was wiping away her tears. She let out a little laugh and held him close, despite how he worked to rub against her face again and again. He always was an affectionate little kitty.

“You silly boy, you little goofball.” the pet names came naturally, falling from her lips as easily as leaves in the fall. She didn’t care who he really was, he was still her Pancake. Each pet name was accompanied by him purring so hard that he let out a little trill. She realized the names made him happy. “My sweet angel. I’m so sorry. None of this is your fault.”

She remembered the other times she had been crying, and Pancake had come running to her to rub his little face against hers. All along, she realized, it was Mario. All those times she had felt miserable and lonely, he had been there. He had always been there. Peach let out a shaky breath and hugged him close.

He was so happy. Peach knew the little noises he made, knew the way he strained to purr against her like a desperate little engine. “You’re just so precious, aren’t you?” she asked him, and he responded with a very prominent meow. Now she knew, when she felt like Pancake was trying to talk to her, he really was. Or at least understanding her. She wondered what he would have communicated to her if he could have spoken.

Peach reached to turn on the lamp on her nightstand, and turned to face Pancake when the soft light illuminated the room.

With her movement, Pancake was forced to amble off of her. He leapt to the floor. “Oh, no, it’s okay! You can be up here, silly.” Peach patted her mattress.

He considered her for a moment, looking between her and the bed. Finally, he came back up, hopped over her, and went to stretch out next to her. She could see his pretty golden fur, his white paws like little socks, and his big blue eyes. He opened his jaw and let out a big yawn, and Peach looked at all of his sharp little fangs.

“I wonder why you’re a gold cat when you have brown hair.” she stroked the top of his head, and looked at the little bell on his red collar. “Strange, huh? Well, I guess a whole lot about this is strange.”

Pancake blinked at her. He stretched out one single paw, and rested it for a little bit on her arm. His little toes were all cold. Maybe she should have checked the heater.

She smiled at him, and stroked his back while he folded his paw back to his chest and made himself into a loaf. A big chunky loaf. She realized with a mild sense of terror that she had called him chubby. Multiple times. Hopefully he was never offended by the nicknames.

“Hmm,” she propped herself up on an elbow and looked at him. “I was wondering about the other night, when I found out you were human. Why were you changed back? You probably could have fooled me for the rest of our lives.” she nodded to herself, thinking Mario probably could have kept it going indefinitely. She wondered if his life span would have been different, maybe he would have lived for an abnormally long time. Maybe he could have set records for being the oldest cat in history. But, the reverse could also happen. For a moment, she worried that all the time he spent as a cat had accelerated the way he aged as a human. Then, she thought she had seen too many sci-fi movies. He didn’t seem to be much older than she was.

With a soft “Mrr,” Pancake closed his eyes at her. He didn’t look like he was going to answer her with anything else.

Peach grinned. “What, so are we…” she stopped to yawn. “Are we going to play ‘blink once for yes, twice for no?’ Or do you want to talk to me?” she teased.

She knew what his abrupt glance to the bed and to her face meant. The gesture of doubt and apprehension was too human. “It’s okay.” she assured him. She tried really hard not to laugh; the bewildered expression of a cat was just silly. “Really, it’s okay. It’s not like you haven’t been up here before.”

He hesitated. But with her reassuring smile, and probably with equally tired judgement, he finally caved. Pancake stood up and stretched. In the next moment, Peach blinked, and Mario was laying on his side next to her. He sort of mirrored the way she was laying, only he went on his stomach before he propped himself up on both elbows. He looked at her in silence for a few moments.

The air was cold, and Peach shuddered. She wondered why the air was even on, only to look up and realized she had just turned the fan on and forgotten about it. Maybe that was why she was so cold. She huddled up under her blankets.

“No, I’m fine.” Mario answered her when she offered him space under her blanket. He looked down at the pillow. “That night, I, ehm. I didn’t change back on purpose. I think I switched in a dream, maybe. I don’t know how it happened.” He seemed interested in the seam of the pillow.

Peach tilted her head. “Oh,” she murmured. Now that he was so close, she could see the furrow in his brow, the angle of his jaw. When he looked at her, she could really see how blue his eyes were. He had such a soft, genuine face. She wished she could tell him something that would make him smile, just so she could see his dimples.

But she had to get the bad things out of the way first, now that she was facing him as he really was. “I’m really--I’m really sorry.” she said, clutching her hands close to her chest and resting her head on her pillow. She looked at him for a moment, but she couldn’t maintain eye contact when she saw that gravity in his eyes again. It was especially hard to look at him knowing that she had hurt him. “I’m so sorry, those horrible things I said out there, Mario, I--”

“Princess,” he said softly, and Peach looked up at him. He was smiling.

His dimples were adorable. The gravity in his eyes, she could vaguely name it. He was looking at her with fondness, with care.

He slowly adjusted himself to let his shoulders relax. Their elbows brushed against one another. “It’s okay. You don’t have to apologize.” he spoke in such a mellow voice.

Peach frowned. “But--! I was so mean to you, I know none of this is your fault, but I just…” she trailed off when Mario shook his head and lay down on the pillow.

“It’s okay.” he said again, and blinked at her the way Pancake blinked at her when he was comfortable. Though, as a man, it just made him look sleepy. “I’m sorry. I should have been more, ehm...How do you say? Straight forward. You have every right to be angry with me. But you let me back in here, didn’t you?”

He had such a sweet smile. The poor man must be so tired, but he came to her just to make her feel better. Peach felt a surge of warmth for him. Before she was really thinking, she moved up a little, and reached for him. Mario must have anticipated what she wanted. He shifted onto his side and opened himself to her.

She pulled her arms around him. The moment she rested against him, he let out a soft, contented sigh. He hesitated to hold her back. But when he did, she felt warm and secure in a way that she had never known before. She closed her eyes and pressed her face into his shoulder. “Why did you come in here?” she asked, her voice a little muffled. “After I was so mean…”

The warmth of his body and the feeling of being held so tightly made her feel small and safe. She noticed that he smelled really nice, now that she was pressed so close to him.  The security of his embrace put her into a sleepy daze.

Mario took a moment to answer her. For a little while, he just lay there, breathing. One of his hands moved up and down her back. Just a couple of times. Then, the normal time for an embrace passed. Peach didn’t want to let go of him, but she was worried that she would fall right asleep before he finished talking if she lay close to him for much longer. She reluctantly backed off, and went back to her own pillow.

When she looked at Mario again after snuggling back up under her blankets, he looked as if he could have dozed off himself. But he shifted up and looked down at the sheets. “I don’t like to see you cry.” he spoke so quietly that Peach almost didn’t hear him. He looked up at her for a moment, before he searched the bed again.

Peach remembered, with some embarrassment, that she had cried more than a few times during her year in the village. For silly reasons, maybe some serious ones. She had believed she was alone. She could cry when she felt like it, or cry because she felt lonely, or cry because she had seen a sad episode of her favorite TV show without judgement. No matter where she was in the apartment, Pancake would come running. He always made her feel better. Each of those memories were shown in a new light, now that she knew who Mario was.

Specifically, crying over her TV show was digging up more and more embarrassment. Mario had seen her sitting on the couch, watching TV, eating ice cream straight out of the carton at least twice now. “Wait,” she frowned. “The other day, when I couldn’t remember writing ice cream on my shopping list…”

Mario gave a sheepish smile. “That was me.” he admitted. “You left the television on one day while you were at work. I knew what would happen in the episode. So I added ice cream and hoped you wouldn’t think about it too much.” he even looked guilty, but Peach couldn’t help but laugh at the thought of him turning back into a human just to add something to her list. She wondered if he had tried very hard to imitate her handwriting.

“Oh Mario,” she said, trying to stop herself from giggling. “You’re so sweet.”

He didn’t answer except to avert his eyes and rub the back of his head. But then, he yawned, and covered his mouth.

When he opened his eyes again, they were barely open. “Sorry,” he murmured, going a little red in his cheeks. Peach thought he was absolutely adorable, so bashful and sleepy. “I’m a little tired.”

She smiled at him. “I bet you are. I should have let you go to sleep a long time ago.” If she had left him after dinner to sleep on the couch, maybe he would have gotten the rest he needed, she thought with a pang of guilt. But at least everything was cleared up. At least he was comfortable enough to be close to her.

Mario shook his head. “No, I have to fix my...How do you say in English? My body has, it’s a, ehm, a sleep time clock…” he mumbled, squinting at the sheets like they had the answer.

“Your circadian rhythm?” Peach guessed with an amused smile, and Mario nodded vaguely.

“Yes. I’m used to sleeping more during the day. That’s what cats do.” he yawned again. “But humans don’t...Humans don’t do that.”

Peach agreed with a soft hum, and watched him just about nod off. “You can sleep here if you want to.” she said. She curled up under her blankets and yawned herself. Before, the idea of Mario sleeping in her bed might have bothered her, but it only felt natural now. She wanted to be close to him.

But he looked worried. “Are you sure? I can sleep out there. Or I can, I can turn to a cat if you want. If it would be more comfortable.” he was starting to sound like he was losing track of what he was saying. Even if she wanted him to go back out to the living room, Peach didn’t think he would be able to pry himself up.

“No, it’s okay.” she smiled. “I just want you to get some rest. I’ve kept you up long enough.”

He shook his head slightly. “Have to wait for you to sleep first.” he gave a little grin. She realized he must always wait for her to fall asleep before he slept himself.

She gave a little conceding sigh. Reaching to turn off the light, and adjusting the way she was laying on the bed, Peach just smiled. She wouldn’t argue with him. “If you say so, silly,” she said. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” Mario answered her, and she felt sleep come to take her practically as soon as she closed her eyes.

O~o~O

Chapter Text

O~o~O

When she woke up to the cold light of the winter sun, the bed was empty.

The space in front of her was warm. The sheets had been a little moved around. Peach remembered everything that had happened almost immediately, and wondered why Mario had been so close to her, maybe he was cold?

When she sat up, she realized that she was the one who had moved. She was the one who had shifted close to him.

She came out of her room and rubbed her eyes. “Ah, there she is,” she heard his voice from the kitchen, and looked up to see him over by the coffee machine. “One Italian roast with lots of cream and sugar, coming right up.”

Mario carefully brought the mug to the dining table and pulled out a chair for her, with a mock bow as she came to sit. “Why thank you, kind sir,” Peach pretended to curtsy with invisible skirts. She couldn’t help but giggle, and watched as Mario got himself some coffee.

“Well, good morning,” she said when he came to sit across from her. “Did you sleep well? Have you been up long?”

He gave her a tired smile. “I slept fine. And no. I came out here only a few minutes ago. I didn’t want to wake you.” he took a sip of the coffee, and the sheer peace and serenity in his expression reminded Peach that he hadn’t been able to enjoy things like coffee for a long time. “How did you sleep, Princess?” he asked.

Peach was distracted by her own coffee. He had managed to make it almost as good as Brewster’s. How did he know exactly how she liked her coffee? “I slept like a baby. And how many times do I have to tell you to call me by my name, hmm?” she grinned so he knew she was teasing, but she was also a little serious.

“Oh. Sorry.” he looked startled, and when Peach raised her eyebrows, he blinked. He realized after a moment that she was waiting. “Oh, er...Peach.”

With a sly grin over her mug, Peach said “That’s better.”

The dilemma was what to have for breakfast. Mario insisted on making something for her, or them, when she convinced him that he had to eat. Nevermind the fact that she had just bought milk and there was cereal, or there were donuts just down the road, or pop tarts somewhere in the pantry. There wasn’t much he could do with the remaining eggs that were left.

But then, in a moment of keen memory, Peach opened up her pantry and rummaged around until she found what she was looking for. She yanked out the box and showed it to Mario.

Pancakes.

He blinked at her in silence for a few moments. He looked between her face and the box. It started out as a quiet chuckle that he tried to hide, but it didn’t take long until they were both laughing over a stupid box of pancake mix. They laughed so hard that Mario practically doubled over, and Peach had tears in her eyes.

Once Peach calmed down, she realized it was the first time she had heard Mario really laugh.

So they ate pancakes. She tried to help him as much as he would let her. Every once in a while, while he was stirring the batter or even pouring it on the pan, he would start snickering again, and then Peach would start, too. He almost choked when they managed to start eating. Then, they both sat at the table giggling like idiots until they could keep eating. Peach loved how much he was smiling. It was nice to see him happy, when he had been so stressed before. Plus, the dimples were just too adorable.

They did the dishes together, Mario washing them and Peach drying them to be put away. It was the first time in a long time that she cleaned her own dishes immediately after eating. After that, they both went back to sit in the living room.

“So you’re the Jumpman, huh? I suppose it makes sense,” Peach leaned back in her corner of the couch, the corner Mario had sat in the previous night. Mario sat closer to her, not on the complete opposite end of the couch.

Mario tilted his head. “What do you mean?” he asked.

She looked to him and nudged his shoulder. “Well, gosh, I don’t know. Maybe after you saved me from robbers. Maybe after you chose to be a cat for me even though your life was turned upside down. Maybe since you were sent here to protect me in the first place. You do happen to strike me as the noble type who would climb a dangerous building just to save someone.”

Each praise brought more color to his cheeks. Peach smiled. It was easy to embarrass him, and that also put her further under the impression that he really was truly noble, in the purest sense of the word. He didn’t do any of those things for the glory. In fact, the praise seemed to make him uncomfortable. “It was nothing.” he mumbled, rubbing the back of his head.

While she teased him, it occurred to her that maybe Daisy had been right. Maybe she really did have a little crush on the Jumpman, though her idea of him paled in comparison to the real thing. Peach wasn’t used to such surprises. She was sitting next to a real hero. He also happened to be her cat for a little under a year.

Thinking of his situation reminded her that she needed to come up with a way to help him. “So your brother,” she started to say, and she noticed how he relaxed at the subject change. “You must miss him.”

Mario nodded. “Yes.” he said. He looked down at the floor.

Nodding, Peach reached for her phone. She pulled up the picture Daisy had sent her. “That’s him, right? Louis G.?” she showed him the image.

He squinted at the screen for a moment. “Yes. That’s him.”

“So where does the G come from? I thought Daisy said your last name was also Mario. Is it like a middle name or something?” Peach tilted her head as she took back her phone.

“The…” Mario blinked. “The ‘G?’”

Peach nodded. “Yeah! This is how you spell his name, right?” she started typing out a message as if to send it to Daisy, and showed it to him. Mario just smiled and shook his head.

“No. It’s just one name. Luigi.” he accentuated the middle i. “Not Lui-Gee.” he showed her how to spell it.

“Oh.” Peach felt a little silly.

She took the phone back and just looked at it in amazement. Then, she glanced at the time. “You know, it’s still daylight over there. I can call Daisy, and see if she’s with him now,” she offered, and she saw the way his eyes lit up. His whole expression, for just a moment, was filled with hope, and she had her answer. She had already started to open her contacts before he spoke.

“That’s okay, you don’t have to do that for me.” he said, waving his hands as if to dismiss the thought, but Peach just smiled and held her phone to her ear. His eyes widened, he didn’t look like he knew what to do with himself.

“Don’t worry.” she told him, listening to the phone ring.

It rang once, and then a half, before Daisy picked up. “Hello? Peach? Hey, what time is it over there? Is everything okay?” she asked.

Peach grinned when she saw Mario’s jaw open and close. “Everything’s fine,” she assured Daisy. “Are you with Luigi right now?”

“Uh, yeah, why? He’s walking me home. The date went really well, by the way.” Peach could hear someone in the background, and assumed she was teasing Luigi. In real time. Mario’s brother was right there. She couldn’t help but laugh a little, and felt all the more amused at Mario’s apparent confusion.

“Would you mind if I talked to him?” she asked.

Daisy’s silence told her that she was confused by the question. “I guess so, why?” she laughed, but she didn’t wait for Peach to answer. “Hey, Luigi, Peach wants to talk to you.

The phone was moved. Peach flinched when it sounded like a commotion on the other side, like someone almost dropped the phone. Then, there was a man’s voice. “He--hello?”

Peach smiled at Mario, and held out the phone to him. He looked at it with wide eyes.

In the silence, she heard Luigi’s muffled voice through the soft speaker ask if anyone was there.

Mario took the phone. He slowly held it to his ear, and let out a deep breath. “Luigi.” he said, with a wobbly smile. “It’s me.”

She couldn’t hear the full conversation, but she could just make out the voice from the phone yelling out and maybe crying. She assumed when Mario lowered his head that he might be close to tears as well. He spoke soft, broken Italian, something like an apology. His voice was thick with emotion.

Without a word, Peach patted his shoulder and stood, and gave him the space alone to speak with his brother.

She waited, going between her room and the kitchen as quietly as she could. Mario and Luigi talked for a long time. Peach felt a little guilty for keeping Daisy up; it must have been late. But she didn’t know how else to explain everything that had happened. She wanted Mario to be able to tell Luigi his story in his own words anyway. Luigi would probably tell Daisy, and Daisy might relay it to the King. Whatever story came out, it was up to Mario. He could choose to share the truth with the world or not.

“Peach?” she perked when she heard her name, and realized Mario was calling for her. Rushing around the corner, she came into the living room, only to see Mario holding the phone up and away from his ear. His head as still low, and he faced away from her. “Daisy wants to talk to you.” he said, and his voice sounded strained.

With a soft smile, Peach came around the couch and delicately took the phone from him. “Hello?” she asked. She absentmindedly reached up to touch Mario’s back. He still wouldn’t show her his face.

“So is it true?” Daisy came through on the other end. “Mario, he’s been there all along? As a cat? You’ve been holding out on me, girl!”

Peach couldn’t help a silly grin. “I guess the cat’s out of the bag?” she beamed when Daisy snickered, and Mario made a weak but amused noise beside her.

She rubbed his back slowly, up and down, without really having to think about it. “I mean, that’s great! I think? I believe it, and so does Luigi. But I’m not so sure about, you know, your dad.” Daisy sighed. “What are we going to do? Mario’s been missing for, how long, now? He can’t just waltz in and be like ‘hey, ‘sup, how’s it hanging?’ I mean, I guess he’s Italian and he wouldn’t say that exactly, but you know what I mean.”

Peach tried to picture Mario waltzing into her castle with shades and finger guns while he addressed her father, the King himself, with ‘how’s it hanging?’ in his accent that wouldn’t fit well with the phrase. She tried not to laugh at the image in her head. “Yes, I know. I was hoping you might have some ideas. But it’s late over there for you, isn’t it? You should get some sleep. We can talk more about this later.” she said.

“You need to come home! That’s what you need to do, girl.” Daisy sighed. “I mean, it’s bad enough to know that I’ll never get to meet Pancake. I was looking forward to petting him. But now this, and Luigi’s upset, and I know you’re upset too...And I miss you. It’s been a long couple of days. But it’s really been a long year, too.”

“It has, hasn’t it?” Peach echoed Daisy’s sigh.

They were quiet for a little bit, sharing a brief, sad moment. “Well, I should get home. Goodnight, girl. Tell Mario I said goodnight, too. It was nice to meet him.

Peach nodded. “I will. Sleep well, Daisy, goodnight.”

She set her phone down on the table, and leaned back into the couch. Mario took a deep breath and raised his head. If he had been crying, there wasn’t any sign of it.

They sat together in silence for a moment. Peach assumed Mario needed a moment, and she thought she could use one as well. The more she thought about it, the longer she dwelled, the more she found that Daisy was right. Maybe it was time to go home. She had been gone for long enough.

Mario gently butted his head against her shoulder. The gesture reminded her of Pancake asking for her attention. Though, the instant he did, he froze. “Sorry,” he murmured, moving away with a blush. “I forgot I wasn’t a cat.”

With a chuckle, Peach looked down to him. He was looking at her in a very certain way. Pancake only looked at her that way when he wanted to be close to her. When he wanted her attention, for her to scratch his ears, anything just so that he could be close. Peach remembered all of the times Pancake had just purred away on her chest, laying right in front of her face. The weight had made it a little hard to breath, but she never minded.

All along, that was Mario, too. He liked to be close to her.

He seemed to realize what she was remembering, because he blinked and looked away. “I’m sorry.” he started to shift down the couch, away from her.

But she stopped him. “Hey,” she said softly, and got his attention again with a hand on his shoulder. She liked to be close to him, too. As a cat for sure, and she was really thinking that she felt similarly about him as a person as well. When those big eyes fixed on her again, she smiled. “Hey, it’s okay. Come here.”

Mario hesitated. He sat there, eyeing her hand warily when she lifted it close to his face. The way he almost regarded her with fear, Peach had to wonder when was the last time someone had been gentle to him, other than herself when he was a cat. He almost looked more nervous sitting there with her hand by his cheek than he did when she discovered he was a man. Like she could ever possibly hurt him.

She supposed with all the hero work, fighting off robbers or gorillas, there weren’t many encounters he had that weren’t with aggressive foes. Maybe he liked to be close to her because she was the only one he could be close to.

Her hand rested against his cheek. He closed his eyes to her touch. Some of the tension left his shoulders; he understood she wouldn’t hurt him. He even leaned into her hand a little. He trusted her. “Come here,” she said again, quieter.

This time, he kept his eyes down, but he came to her.

“There you are,” she soothed him, after he crawled up close and finally rested against her. His face was high on her chest, close to her shoulder. His arms made a loose loop around her waist. Peach leaned back into the couch so he could lay comfortably, with one hand on his back and the other stroking his hair. Though he tried to hide it, she could feel the slight catch in his chest when he breathed.

The angle she sat in, and the pillows were comfortable to rest against. But Mario still didn’t lean all the way into her. “Peach,” he fretted, his voice muffled by her shoulder. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry about everything.”

“Shh, it’s okay. You can relax,” Peach held him a little tighter. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

His voice had a note of urgency. Not like he was going to leave, or like there was something terrible that he hadn’t told her. He sounded more vulnerable than anything. Maybe it had to do with how he just spoke to his brother for the first time in a year? Peach wondered if he could have felt this way because he was a man in her arms, instead of a cat. When was the last time someone had held him? For who he really was, not under the guise of a cute cat that anyone might like to pet? She hadn’t been held for a while, but she always knew she had her best friends to run to eventually. Did Mario have anyone?

She got the strangest sense that he was the sort of person who had lots of people who would give him comfort if he asked. His brother, friends, allies. But she also understood that he wasn’t the sort of person to ask very much of anyone. In the lives of those around him, he was the pillar. No wonder he wasn’t sure how to handle comfort.

But to her, at least, he was adjusting, little by little. She continued to stroke his hair while he tried to relax. “I’m sorry because you were lonely all this time. I’m sorry because your father lied to you. And I’m sorry because I lied to you, too.” the sheer guilt in his voice filled Peach with sympathy for him. She thought he was done talking, but he kept going. “Everything. I’m sorry about everything. You’re so far from home. You don’t want to hurt your friends or make them worry. So you tell them you’re happier than you are. But you’re so lonely, Peach, and it’s been killing me.”

Peach was about to open her mouth to explain that she was okay, but was startled to notice that his words had caused her to become a little choked up. Just the slightest, because he had surprised her. And he must know her so well, he must know every idiosyncrasy of hers, because he didn’t even look at her and he said “Please don’t cry. The worst part about being a cat was that I couldn’t comfort you.” His arms adjusted around her.

She didn’t think she would be able to get out of his embrace if she tried. She didn’t want to. With no words, she realized she had hesitated in her rhythm of stroking his hair. She decided to just rest her hand on his head.

“I told you--I told you there were a lot of reasons that I decided to stay,” Mario started again, when he seemed to notice she wasn’t going to speak. The whole time he spoke, he rested against her without raising his head, without moving. “And that wasn’t really true. There were a lot of small reasons. I stayed because there wasn’t a lot of choices. I stayed because I was supposed to be watching over you anyway. But none of those are the big reason.”

He took in a breath. “The big reason is because of the way you looked at me when you told me I could go. That day on the fence. You told me that you understood. But I saw your face. You were smiling, but it was not a happy smile. I couldn’t leave you. I didn’t want to after that, even after I found out how to change back. I would have lived out my life as your cat if I could at least make you a little happy.” his voice was quiet, but full of heart. He meant every word.

And Peach didn’t know what to say. Mario raised his head to look at her, and shifted like he was prepared to move off when she wanted him to.

There was that gravity in his eyes again, when she looked at him. She could finally recognize it.

He was looking at her with love.

“Mario,” she said, struck deeply by her own realization. “Mario, I…”

He just gave her a sad look, and slowly backed off. “That was why I wanted to leave when you found out who I really am.” he said, and then looked down at the floor. “Pancake can make you happy, but I can’t.”

Peach shook her head, and reached forward to hold his face without thinking. “Mario, that’s not true!” he froze under her touch. She nearly let him go when she realized what she was doing. But she had a point to make and she couldn’t let him run away. “The past couple of days have been crazy and everything, but they’ve also been nice. I really enjoy your company. The more I talk to you, the more I realize I do know you. You may not have been able to say much as Pancake, but I still understood some things.”

Mario was silent. He only blinked at her, and Peach found that she could release him and he wouldn’t try to back off again. “Besides,” she murmured, looking off to the side. “It’s not like you’re a complete stranger. I kind of did have a little bit of a crush on the Jumpman.” she didn’t know why she would admit that to him. He was sitting right there. The subject of her romantic dreams some time ago when she wanted a hero to come and save her.

Well, technically, he did end up saving her. “Really?” he looked genuinely surprised. Maybe a little embarrassed. “I thought Daisy was only teasing you.”

She bit her lip and shifted the way she was sitting. “Yes. Daisy was teasing me. But, I, um, I did have a crush.” Peach became aware that her face felt hot and that Mario was still quite close to her. Blinking at her with those big eyes.

He was cute. Peach decided it wasn’t the time to mention that the crush had never really gone away. Or rather, it had come back with greater force. She always had a soft spot for a sweet, heroic, hardworking man, and he did more than fit the bill.

“I hope that I, ehm, that I’m not too disappointing.” he tried to smile, before he leaned back so he could sit properly again. Peach was confused for a moment, and also adjusted herself to sit correctly on the couch. Only after a moment did she realize he was trying to make a joke at his own expense to lighten the mood. He really had no idea how wrong he was.

Peach smiled and shook her head. “You’re not disappointing at all, Mario.” she realized she was staring at him. For a moment, she really considered kissing him on the cheek. But she didn’t think he’d be very comfortable if she just did that out of the blue, so she just grinned and reached up to pet his hair. “Silly kitty.”

She felt like she made the right choice. Where his expression had seemed increasingly strained, he gave a genuine, if shy, smile in response to the pet name.

He didn’t say anything, but Peach got the sense that he was pleased in some way. She looked up and around her apartment, the sparse decorations and the quiet space all around them. With a sigh, she stood up and started to walk around the room, tracing her hands along the walls. “You know, I think Daisy is right. I think it’s about time we go home.”

Mario sat up and watched her. “You think so?” he asked.

She nodded. “I do.” coming back around to the couch, she let out a sigh and sat down close to Mario again. “I think we’ve been gone for long enough.”

They were silent for a few moments. Peach made up her mind and reached for her phone. “I need to make a few calls,” she murmured, dialing the number for her advisor.

O~o~O

“Only items that we can use in the next couple of days…” Peach murmured to herself, walking through the aisles and searching for food that wouldn’t last long.

Mario followed her, carrying the basket. He was all bundled up in a nice coat that Peach had bought for him. She insisted on getting him at least a small wardrobe to wear, so they had gone around shopping earlier that week for that reason. “Have you already told everyone that you’re leaving?” he asked, coming up beside her while she contemplated a carton of eggs. As soon as she got off the phone with Toadsworth the day she had decided, Mario suggested that she tell the people in the village that she would be going back home.

With a sigh, Peach picked the carton, and hoped that between herself and Mario that it would be finished off quickly. “Well, I told Mr. Brewster and Mr. Blathers yesterday morning. They seemed really sad to see me go. I was a little surprised.” she laughed a little to herself, and gestured for Mario to walk with her when she moved on to look for something to make for dinner.

“Why?” Mario nudged her with his arm, and smiled up at her. “I told you the people here like you.”

As soon as she had told Brewster and Blathers that she would return home soon, they both fell quiet and looked at her for a long time. Initially, she thought Brewster might have been unhappy without a two weeks notice, and that was why they were looking at her in such a way. But Blathers just sighed over his tea. Brewster looked down at the mug he was cleaning. “Ah,” she remembered him saying, with a glum look on his sharp face. “Well, I can’t let you leave without one last cup of coffee. Here, drink up.”

She would really miss them. Their generosity, their entertaining chatter. “Have you told anyone else?” Mario’s voice brought her back to the present.

Peach pulled a lock of her hair behind her ear. “I don’t know about that. They barely know me, because I don’t know how to talk to them. So no, I haven’t really brought it up to anyone otherwise.”

She already knew Mario was about to encourage her to tell some others, when they both looked up and spotted her neighbor browsing the snacks. “Look, there’s Mr. Alfonso.” Mario nodded to indicate him. “Why don’t you tell him?”

Before she could help herself, Peach jolted and hurried to hide behind Mario. She pulled him back into the safety of the soup aisle.  “No, I can’t do that! Not after what happened with the door! He’ll think that I’m so weird, maybe he’ll think I’m leaving because of him. That would be a disaster!” she gasped.

Mario set the basket down on the floor and turned to face her. “Peach,” he shook his head with fond amusement. She must have looked silly trying to hide herself by ducking so low behind him. “He won’t think you’re weird. None of the villagers would. You think too much, you’re, ah, how do you say? You’re in your head too much.” he tapped his forehead once the phrase came to him, and winked at her before gently nudging her out back into the open. “Go on, it will be okay. Talk to him. I will be close by.”

Peach pouted at him over her shoulder, but did as he said. She walked out of the soup aisle and pretended to take an interest in the different varieties of Oreos. “Oh, uh, Mr. Alfonso! What a, um, coincidence!” she put a hand to her cheek to act surprised to see him. When she glanced over her shoulder again to look for Mario’s help, she couldn’t see him.

“Miss Peach!” Alfonso looked up, and the moment he saw her, he lit up with a big smile. “Hey, it’s good to see you! How’s that door working out?”

Blinking several times, Peach remembered what he was talking about. Of course doors didn’t work out. “Right! The door! Yes!” she nodded vigorously. “It, uh, it locks. You know. Like doors are supposed to. It’s great, yeah.”

If Alfonso could tell she was getting flustered by her own babbling, he didn’t show it. “That’s a relief to hear! I hope Pancake’s happy in there now, too.” he laughed.

“Definitely! Yes, he is.” Peach cast one last glance around for Mario before she gave up. “Well, actually, I meant to tell you that I, um, I’m planning on moving out soon. Going back home, you know.” she adjusted her coat.

Alfonso tilted his head. “Oh,” he said, and Peach was taken aback by the crestfallen look on his face. “Well, that’s a shame. I knew you didn’t plan on staying long, but I guess I didn’t expect you to go so soon.” he shrugged, and gave a sad little laugh.

Peach bit her lip and looked at the floor. “Yes, well, I have to get back to my family and friends. You know how it is.” she pretended to check the prices of the cookies.

With a nod, Alfonso slipped a couple of packets of cookies in his basket. “Of course, I understand. I’ll miss you though. You’ll come back to visit us here sometimes, right?” he had a hopeful little grin, and Peach blinked several times at him.

“Yes! Certainly,” she agreed, smiling along with him.

A moment after Alfonso had waved goodbye, a voice behind her nearly cause Peach to jump right into the snack display. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Holding her hand to her heart, Peach just looked at Mario standing there in his cute little coat, carrying the basket. “Mario, you nearly gave me a heart attack,” she breathed, and Mario just tilted his head with an innocent look. Just like Pancake when he startled her.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” he apologized, and led her on through the store. “I tried to tell you, you have friends here. They will be sad to see you go.”

Peach looked down at the floor, and clasped her hands together. “Well, that’ll just make it so much harder to go.”

They wandered through the store, looking for a few more things to hold them over until they would return to the Mushroom Kingdom. Peach regretted not trying to get to know the townspeople better. She tried to be friendly with the cashier at checkout, but was worried that it was wasted effort. But, with a glance to Mario and his encouraging smile, Peach felt her doubt wash away. She would miss the place, and the place would miss her too.

O~o~O

The last couple of days were listless. Mario and Peach packed up all of her things in preparation for the move back, and deep-cleaned the place for the next tenant. Peach was certain that the apartment provided the service anyway, but Mario had lived in many apartments before and insisted they do the work themselves. There wasn’t so much to do beyond that.

“What’s the first thing you want to do when you get back home?” Peach asked, while they lay on her bed staring at the ceiling. The bed and some of the other furniture had come with the apartment, so they didn’t have to dismantle much. Boxes were piled all around her room. The closet doors were open, revealing her freshly pressed dress and the box that held her crown.

When Mario didn’t answer immediately, she glanced over to see him considering the bed post. “I haven’t thought about it too much.” he shrugged, touching the wood. “I thought there would be a lot we have to do.”

Peach nodded a little to herself. She thought they would probably have to go and speak to her father to clear everything up. But after that, would they just go their separate ways? Would Mario just be able to go back to his life with his brother? Would she just go back to being a Princess who could barely leave the castle? Now that she thought about it, she wondered what she would do with her time. She was used to having a job, not quite being a Princess anymore.

She was Princess. She had power and influence. She could just let her friendship with Mario dwindle as he walked away from her the day they got back, or she could take action. He deserved much more than her father telling him ‘okay, great, good job, you can go home now.’ He did a lot, an awful lot for her to just let him walk away. “Well, we have time to think. So what do you want to do?” she could get her father to compensate him properly. Maybe there was a place he always wanted to go to, or a bigger house that maybe he and his brother couldn’t afford. Maybe he had never been to a big, fancy party like the sort she often hosted. She wondered if he liked parties.

“I guess…” he rubbed his chin, and squinted. “I guess a really long bath. Yeah, a bath would be nice.” he grinned up at some distant thought.

Peach blinked. “That’s all?”

Mario looked up to see her staring at him. He nodded. “Yes. Why?” he tilted his head a little.

Looking off to the side, Peach just shook her head in amazement. “Oh, I don’t know. You’ve spent an entire year trapped as a cat with a Princess, and all you want is a bath? Don’t you want something bigger, you know, something a little more grand? Money, maybe? If we held a festival of some kind, you would be the guest of honor!”

With a funny look that was half amused, half repelled, Mario just shook his head. “No. Just a bath. Maybe with candles to be fancy.” she realized he only added it as a joke, because he chuckled to himself. His sarcasm was easy to miss. “I don’t want very much. It will be good to be back with Luigi, and it will definitely feel nice to be back home. There’s not anything else that I want. Well, actually…”

He trailed off, and rolled over on his side to face her. Peach blinked, but also rolled over. “Maybe there is one thing.” he sounded reluctant to bring it up.

“Well, what is it?” Peach asked. She was ready for anything. He wanted money? Done. He wanted the world to forget he was a cat? Done. He wanted something more bizarre than a bath, like a platter of the finest pepperoni organized in a fancy stack that could reach the castle’s spire? Done. She anticipated everything.

Mario looked away from her, and avoided looking into her eyes. “I, um. I’m a little worried…” he started to say. But he stopped. He reached up to scratch his head.

Peach reached out to touch his shoulder. “Worried about what?” she encouraged him.

He made eye contact for just a moment, before he curled up a little and lowered his head so that his expression was hard to see. “I’m worried about what will happen.” he mumbled. “After we go home. Things won’t be the same. For us.”

She had anticipated everything but that.

Looking at Mario, just shifting and looking away from her with embarrassment, made Peach’s heart melt into a little puddle. “Oh, Mario,” she smiled, and reached up to comb her fingers through his hair. The way he said ‘us,’ with such a sense of tenderness, gave her the slightest hope that he held their relationship in the same esteem that she did. Maybe he liked her, the way she liked him? What did he want to happen? He still hadn’t technically answered the question. “I think things will change. But not in a bad way.”

His hopeful little smile filled her with warmth, and all she could think was that she wanted to squish his cheeks and hold him tight and promise him that everything would be okay.

But they didn’t touch the subject anymore after that. The day they left came a lot quicker than Peach wanted it to. She wished for more quiet nights, laying on the bed next to Mario, with nothing to do but enjoy the other’s company. She wanted to wait for the right time to tell him how she felt. Assuming he felt the same, they would work it out with her father, she hoped, and they could be happy together. But each chance she got, she caved. How could she begin? What if he didn’t even feel the same?

She wondered about every dimension of her fear as they left the village behind. On their way to the taxi, Peach made sure they stopped by Katrina’s little fortune shop one last time to say goodbye. The old woman took one look at Mario, and grinned wide. “Make a wish,” was the only thing she said, reaching forward to flick Mario’s bell.

Peach clutched Katrina’s Maneki-neko tightly in her pocket while they got on the plane.

With most of her things sent ahead of them, each only had one carry-on bag, and it gave Peach a strong feeling of discomfort. She felt like they were hobos travelling to a faraway land looking for opportunities, despite all the risks of leaving everything they ever knew. But the notion was ridiculous. They were going home. Mario wasn’t even carrying anything of his. He didn’t really have anything to carry, so he offered to hold onto something of Peach’s, she assumed, to make her more comfortable. She wondered if he noticed that she didn’t like planes very much.

He let her have the window seat and encouraged her to look outside as the world grew smaller and smaller to their eyes. And just like that, they were gone.

They were quiet for most of the flight. And Peach wondered if Mario was the sort of person that had to be kept engaged with conversation at all times, because hardly twenty minutes had passed before she felt his head bump gently into her shoulder. Startled, she glanced down at him, only to see that he’d already fallen asleep.

She would never get over how adorable he looked when he was sleeping. He was probably tired since they woke up so early to make the flight. Then again, he also proved to be very capable of sleeping enough for two people in general. Without thinking, she pressed her face to the top of his head, a half kiss, and shifted carefully so they were both comfortable.

Their flight was a layover, but they had a few hours before they would stop. So Peach gazed out the window and daydreamed about different scenarios in which she confessed her feelings to Mario. Or he confessed his to her. She would be happy either way, assuming he felt the same.

There was a significant possibility that he didn’t even like her. He cared about her, for sure, and at the very least thought of her as a close friend. Peach could live with friends, she thought. She could be friends with a man and have a crush on him without ruining anything. Maybe. Could it be possible that she was being way too optimistic, and that the man who lived with her for almost a year as her cat didn’t have feelings for her at all?

She had told Daisy most of her concerns. Is it weird to like someone if they were a cat? What if they weren’t ‘technically’ a cat? What if she already had an existing crush on him without either of them knowing? Was she making too much out of little signals? Did she give anything away by admitting she had a crush on him in the past? Did he think she was weird?

Peach frowned. Of course he thought she was weird. He had been there when she was sobbing over her favorite TV show. He had been there when she was singing freely in the shower. He had been there to see all of her silly little mannerisms. He probably knew more about her than Daisy did. Like how she probably ate too much ramen, and how she found it difficult to befriend the villagers. Thinking of each little thing made her face feel hot with embarrassment.

But he had also comforted her when she was sad. Daisy thought he was showing little signs of romantic feelings. After getting her on the same page of their whole ordeal, Peach caught Daisy up on her feelings toward Mario. Of course, Peach couldn’t talk it through with her on the phone; Mario would have heard. So Peach and Daisy had to text, and Daisy could write essays analyzing situations like there was no tomorrow.

After a particularly head-spinning essay, Daisy told her to just go for it. “Forget everything I just said. You’ll never know if you don’t try,” she texted her that previous night. “That Brewster dude said it; love is like coffee! You won’t know how good it is until you drink it! And you never know. Mario could be the best coffee. He could be your ‘usual.’”

Peach decided the longer the metaphor went on, the less it made sense.

Mario shifted against her. For a moment, Peach was worried that he’d woken up. But all he did was move a little closer. He mumbled something in his sleep that Peach couldn’t quite hear, and then he moved his arms just a little toward her.

Pancake had always been a little bit of a cuddle bug. He always wanted to be right where she was, always rubbing his head against her face, or kneading her blankets, or curling up with her in bed at night. She wondered if he did that because he thought that was what cats were supposed to do, or if he was just that affectionate.

She hoped she could find out. And she really hoped he was just as affectionate. She daydreamed some more about sitting close to Mario somewhere more comfortable than a plane. Was he the sort of guy who would hold her at any opportunity? She thought if she could, she would find any excuse to touch him. Maybe rub his shoulders, pet his hair, hold his hand. His hand rested so close to her knee, Peach could just lace her fingers through his and he would be none the wiser.

But she didn’t. She couldn’t do that to him. Instead, she thought about the night when she had snapped at him and he had come into her room as Pancake to comfort her. She thought about how nice it would be to hug him again. To feel his arms around her like that would be pure bliss, and she thought of how wonderful it would be to fall asleep in his embrace.

He was such a gentleman. In the nights afterward, he didn’t come into her room unless she specifically asked him to. Then, she would have to specifically offer to let him sleep on her bed, just so he would take more than two steps inside. He always asked if she was sure. Everything he did seemed to be based around whether she wanted him to or not. When they slept, he always left plenty of space in between them, though he had no idea how she longed for him to be close. She wished either one of them could move closer in their sleep. Though, if they ever did, she would never know. Mario always woke up before she did.

There was one morning, the day before, when she had half a dream of laying close to Mario. She vividly remembered the soft pressure of his chest against her cheek, his scent all around her. Her scalp tingled, like he was playing with her hair. She thought she could hear his voice. No words, just a soft hum. She had believed it to be real, and she didn’t dare move in case she scared him away. When she finally gathered the strength to open her eyes, he was gone. It must have been a dream.

She wanted it to be real. She wanted to cuddle up to him and fall asleep to his heartbeat. She wanted to press against him and give him the human touch that he was deprived of. She wanted to hold him and for him to hold her. She wanted to kiss him.

Peach jolted awake to a sudden drop and the feeling of her hand being squeezed. At first, she forgot where she was, but it came to her just as quickly. Mario was giving her a sleepy smile. “It’s okay. There was some turbulence.” he assured her, and Peach realized she was breathing a little hard and looking around with wide eyes.

“Right. Just turbulence,” she repeated with a nod, only to seize both arms of the chair when she felt the same dropping sensation. “Oh!”

Mario held her hand a little tighter. “It will pass soon. You can go back to sleep.” Peach tried to relax, and realized that while Mario was holding her firmly, his pressure was nothing compared to her iron grip on him. She let out a slow breath and tried to stop squeezing him so hard.

She leaned back where she was, with her shoulder pressed against Mario’s. “Sorry,” she murmured, and Mario shook his head with a soft hum.

“Don’t worry about it.” he leaned close to her again, and when they both relaxed, Peach was resting her cheek on top of Mario’s head.

In a few moments, Peach found that the turbulence had excited her enough to where she wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep. Even so, she didn’t move. She noticed they were still holding hands, and Mario might have been dozing, but he still hadn’t let go of her. She decided she wouldn’t let go of him unless he did first. A flight attendant passed swiftly through the aisle and flashed a small, knowing smile to Peach and Mario.

So they did look like a couple! Peach couldn’t stop grinning, especially when she became certain that Mario had gone back to sleep. He mumbled to himself occasionally and made cute sleepy noises. She wondered what he dreamed about.

The layover didn’t take very long. Peach barely had time to grab them something to eat for lunch before they had to hurry back and board the next plane.

While they ate, speed walking to the gate, Mario was making her laugh with stories about Luigi. “I woke up one time at two in the morning to the vacuum cleaner. We just watched a horror movie that night. He was convinced that there were ghosts in our house, and he had to vacuum them out. To this day, I’m still not sure if he was sleepwalking or if he was serious.”

Peach almost choked on her sandwich. “So he doesn’t like ghosts? Have you ever tried to prank him before?” she giggled, trying to imagine sneaking up behind the poor man with a sheet draped over her head.

“Oh. Ehm, not really.” Mario rubbed the back of his head. “I mean, yes. But not anymore. One time, he shocked me with static by accident. I don’t know how. He was walking around in his socks and he just tapped my shoulder. I pretended that he electrocuted me. You know, you shake really hard and then you fall to the floor.” he half-demonstrated the motion, and his exaggerated expression made Peach nearly stop walking from how hard she was laughing. He was pretty convincing with his acting.

But Mario had a sheepish look. “I thought it was funny. But he really thought that he killed me. I didn’t prank him anymore after that.”

Tilting her head, Peach finished off her sandwich and crumpled up the wrapper to throw it in the nearest trash can. “Why, was he angry with you?”

Mario shook his head. “No. Luigi doesn’t really get angry. But he was very upset. He didn’t sleep well for a week after that.” he gave a distant smile. “I do some things now. But nothing that would scare him. One time I rearranged all the furniture in his room to be backwards. Another time I put all my clothes on inside out and pretended like I didn’t understand why I couldn’t go out. Just harmless things. They make him laugh.”

Just as they got to the gate, Peach was shaking her head and trying not to laugh in front of the other passengers. She could only imagine Luigi’s face, knowing as little as she did about him. He seemed like a sweet fellow. Mario didn’t seem to think they were much alike. But Peach thought there might have been more similarities than he knew about.

She couldn’t wait to meet him. She couldn’t wait to see Daisy, and her friends. Her home. As much as she would miss the village, she was ready to be back in her own Kingdom.

And hopefully, she thought, taking Mario’s hand and noticing how he didn’t even seem to think twice before he held her back. Hopefully she’ll have one last bit of news for everyone.

O~o~O

“Peach! Oh my stars!”

Peach barely got out of the car before she was tackled by Daisy. “Whoah!” she straightened up into the embrace and held Daisy back with equal fervor. When she breathed in, the familiar scent of sunscreen and perfume brought an intense rush of emotion. It felt so good to be back in her best friend’s arms. “Daisy!”

There was laughter around them, as Mario got out of the car, as others came closer. “Girl, I have missed you so much! I’m so glad that you’re back!” Peach didn’t have to pull away to notice Daisy’s voice wobble a little with emotion. She heard a familiar chuckle to her left, and then a soft greeting to her right, and then Pauline and Rosalina had joined them in a group hug. “Don’t you ever leave us like that again, you hear? I don’t think my heart could take it!” Daisy gripped her so hard that she could barely breathe, but she didn’t mind at all.

“Stars, I’ve missed you all as well,” Peach held all of her friends as tightly as she could.

After they all pulled back, Pauline happened to glance over Peach’s shoulder. “Oh, there he is! Mario, how are you?”

“Oh!” Mario straightened up and blinked when all of the ladies turned to look at him. His attention was pulled between everyone for a brief, confusing moment, before he managed to focus on Pauline. “Hello, I’m fine. How are you?”

Peach grinned when the girls immediately went to fawn over him. “Oh, such a gentleman! It’s been awhile, hasn’t it? I suppose that’s an understatement.” Pauline gave his cheek a playful pinch.

“We’ve heard quite a lot about you,” Rosalina told him, and laughed when Daisy reached out to jingle the bell around his neck.

While they were busy flustering Mario, Peach noticed a man who stood back for most of their conversation. “Oh, you must be Luigi!” she came forward to him and extended her hand. “Wonderful to meet you, I’m Peach. Your brother has told me so much about you. You’ve no idea how much he missed you.”

Luigi seemed startled to be noticed. “Ah, ehm, good--good morning, Princess. Nice to meet you as well,” he trailed off as he shook her hand.

“Oh, not you, too! Please, call me Peach!” Peach laughed, and then realized why he might be so distracted. She blinked. “Oh! Right! Yes, of course, I, um. Goodness, sorry, I wasn’t even thinking. Mario!”

Peach came around to Luigi’s side and rested a hand on his shoulder. At the same moment, the girls parted in front of Mario, and he looked up at the sound of his name.

Mario and Luigi spotted one another. “Coniglio,” Mario let out. He took a half step toward his brother with wide eyes.

“Capo!” Luigi rushed toward him. He nearly tripped over his own feet, but caught himself and closed the distance between them at a speed that could have knocked down anything in his way. He threw his arms around Mario with such force that Mario had to take a step back. “Mamma mia, Capo,” Luigi sobbed, and any other words he had were lost to incomprehensible babbling in Mario’s shoulder.

With his eyes shining under the morning sun, Mario just looked at the ground and rubbed Luigi’s back, listening to him talk.

“Come on, we should let them be.” Daisy murmured to Peach. The girls led her away, and Peach could only look back over her shoulder at Mario as they left the brothers for the castle. Wait, she wanted to say, I want to wait for them.

It can’t end like this.

Was it all over, just like that?

O~o~O

There was nothing quite like a sunset in the Mushroom Kingdom.

The faded light was always warm, the clouds always floated by, washed in soft rose, lavender, and gold. The air smelled of jasmine and honeysuckle.

Peach would have loved to be down walking in the gardens, or through the meandering paths of Toad Town. Unfortunately, she was confined to the castle. Not confined as a synonym of imprisoned, but rather bound by obligation and responsibility. Her advisor had a schedule for her, and the time she sat gazing forlornly across the kingdom from her balcony was designated for sleeping.

While she did need rest, and while she would have liked to go to sleep, she found that she couldn’t. She missed Mario.

She had met him again briefly in a meeting with her father. The king had been hesitant to accept Mario’s story, but Peach confirmed everything he said. It was decided that it would be best if the whole matter was kept quiet. While her father had made it sound like it was for Mario’s sake, Peach knew it was mainly for his own sake. It didn’t exactly look good for a king to lose a whole hero, only to discover he had been lost during one of the king’s own operations.

Her father wasn’t a cruel man. He just had a lot to maintain, and one of the more important things was the image. That was just politics.

She never managed to find a moment alone with Mario. Her friends wanted to talk to him, which was fun to watch. Mario was so easily flustered by the group of women. As much as she loved her friends, all she wanted was at least a minute to talk with him. Just him. She might have had the chance if she didn’t fold on every opportunity. One moment, she was prepared to tell him everything, the next, she couldn’t bring herself to look at him.

“So have you two kissed yet?” Daisy had asked, to Peach’s horror.

Mario looked up, blinking several times, before he coughed into his fist. Peach refused to look away from the floor. “Oh, whoops. I guess not.” Daisy awkwardly tried to pass it off as a joke, and the whole group joined in the strained laughter.

After that, Peach lost her nerve completely.

She lost her chance. Katrina had told her to take them while she can, and she just let him go. She watched her friends leave, and then she watched Mario’s back disappear over the horizon. He was gone.

No more late night cuddles with Pancake. No more eating ramen while fixated on the television. No more nicknames, no more affection, no more bond. He was gone. And it was Peach’s fault.

She sighed over her cup of tea, while the edges of the sky turned to a deep blue. In her hand, she fussed with the little wooden Maneki-neko. The stars started to come out. The moon reflected from the world in silvery light.

There was rustling close to the wall. Peach thought there was a bird’s nest there. Must be time for them to sleep, she thought.

The rustling stopped. “Mrreow?”

She looked up, and Pancake was walking along the stone rail of her balcony.

“Oh my stars!” Peach almost spilled her tea trying to stand up. She looked down over the balcony, seeing the massive drop. “Mario! How did you--How did you get up here?”

Pancake blinked at her, his little bell jingling as he walked closer. As soon as he got to her, he started rubbing his face against her hand. He didn’t answer. He only purred loudly when she finally thought to pet him.

She scratched his ears, and he made a cute little trill. Along the front of the castle, vines had been climbing up the wall, weaving through the indents of the brick. “My goodness, I suppose you climbed,” she said, and Pancake made an affirmative noise. As affirmative as a cat could be, anyway.

Her heart began to beat a little faster. “I was worried I wouldn’t see you again,” she confessed, speaking before she could think. “I’m glad that you’re here. Though, I’m worried about how you made that climb. That was dangerous, silly. Plus, if anyone saw you, you could be arrested for breaking into the castle.” She didn’t really know what would happen. What were her people going to do, arrest a cat? Not all of them knew who he was. But even if they did, who would arrest Mario?

Peach kept her voice quiet, thought she was sure there wasn’t a way for anyone to hear her. But she had to ask, had to dare. She had to take the chance. “Why are you here?” she asked him.

She didn’t really expect Pancake to reply. But he hopped up on his hind legs, resting his two front paws on her shoulder. Then, he was a man, and he held her shoulders, and he sat on the rail of her balcony with the wind at his back and the moonlight in his eyes.

He looked at her for a long moment. She couldn’t see his smile exactly, from under his mustache, but she could see the smile in his big blue eyes. He opened his mouth, as if to say something. But instead, he opted to pull her closer. She was pulled into his gravity.

They held one another for several moments. “I’m here because Luigi asked me what I’m still doing at the house.” Mario murmured.

Peach tilted her head, and pulled back to look at him. “What do you mean?”

He raised his hand and touched her cheek, just barely, and the lightest contact caused her heart to flutter. “My whole life, I was like a stray cat.” he said. “I never had a lot of luck when it came to love. The women that I liked, they felt pity toward me. They would leave food out on the porch for me. Little promises. They would scratch my ears sometimes out of sympathy. But they didn’t ever want me to come inside. I was just a stray that no one really wanted.”

His eyes flickered down. He took a small breath. “I was fine with that. You can’t make anyone care about you. I have a brother, and I have friends. I was fine.” He lowered his head, and Peach stepped forward so that he rested against her shoulder. His arms relaxed around her waist, and she held him tighter while she listened to him. “You made me feel like I was wanted. I’m grateful, because you chose me knowing I was a strange cat. And you chose me again when you found out who I really was. I have never felt the way I do about you before. I told Luigi all of this, and he asked me what the hell I’m doing. He told me to go to you. To scratch on your door. I’m not a stray anymore. I won’t ask for scraps, because you fed me well. I just came to tell you…”

This was the most Peach had ever heard Mario talk all at once. She didn’t dare interrupt him, even though he let several moments go by in silence.

He raised his head, and looked into her eyes. “I understand if you don’t feel the same. I’m just here to tell you. I--I love you. I loved you for a long time now. You deserve to know how I feel.”

Peach’s heart skipped a beat. While she stood there, fumbling for words in her scattered mess of a brain, Mario looked down at the ground. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t hide the disappointment in his expression. When Peach couldn’t find anything to say, he started to make a move to get up.

“Thank you, for making me feel wanted. That was what I wanted to tell you.” he mumbled. “I should go.”

“Mario, wait,” Peach said.

She grabbed his face and kissed him.

He froze. The kiss wasn’t aggressive, but it was enough to startle him. He hesitated before he returned it. But when he did, when his arms came around to hold her, and when his lips responded to hers, Peach nearly forgot how to breathe. His bell jingled between them. The breeze picked up. His scent was so soft and wonderful and familiar to her. The feeling of his arms around her was soothing and exciting all at once. She had never kissed anyone before. She had never loved anyone before. Everything was new, but it was good, too.

When they both pulled away, just a few inches, Peach broke into a broad smile. “My silly kitty. I love you, too.”

His smile, his dimples, and the light in his eyes was the most adorable thing Peach had ever seen. He let out a soft, relieved sigh. “Yes, I’m yours, I have always been yours,” his voice was raw, and he wasn’t afraid to hold her close anymore. “That’s all I ever wanted to be. I’m yours.”

Peach let out a sigh into his embrace, and pressed her face to the top of his head. “Oh, Mario.” She reached up and curled her fingers through his hair. His arms tightened around her. “I suppose I have some good news for Daisy.”

He chuckled, and the sound was so warm and sweet. “I thought she was teasing me. I guess she was teasing both of us.” he turned his face. She could feel him breathing against her.

“I guess so,” Peach responded with a smile. “So, what does this make us? Are we...Are we together?”

Mario pulled back just a little to look up at her. “How do you mean together?” he tilted his head to the side.

Shifting a little in his arms to be closer, Peach shrugged. “I don’t know. Isn’t there some sort of process, you know, where we test our compatibility? We go through a trial period, I suppose. And then a title we must subsequently adopt so that the world knows the nature of our relationship?”

She would have kept going, but Mario started laughing. Even his laughter at her mild expense was the sweetest thing to hear. “Are you talking about dating?” he asked, taking one of her hands. “We can date. If you want to. I don’t mind.”

He was always so patient. Peach bit her lip, unsure of what to do. “Well, does dating mean we’re not completely together? Just testing? Because I think we’re compatible. We’ve lived together for the past two weeks. Technically a year, if you count the time as Pancake. I knew of you before, and you’ve gotten to know me pretty well. I don’t think we need to test.”

While she tried to rationalize her thoughts out loud, Mario pressed a soft kiss to her cheek. She fell quiet. “Or, I mean...I don’t know…” she trailed off with a bashful mumble.

“You’re cute,” he said. “We can also be in a relationship. That just means we commit to each other.”

Commit. Like a promise. Promise her heart to a man who cared about her and looked at her with the gravity of a thousand suns. Brewster and Blathers had told her about what makes a good man. True love, they had said. They had seen it on her face. True love is when he does the dishes.

He had done that and more. True love is when he does the little things. Chivalry, manners, those things were for everyone. But the little things, those were done purely out of love. He did the dishes. He cooked for her. He comforted her when she was sad. She had fallen for him for the little things. Among the little things, he found her heart. And she found his.

Katrina told her to take the chances while she can. To make a wish. Peach reached forward and jingled his little bell.

“That’s what I want. I want to commit.” she said. Mario blinked at her. He had said he had felt like a stray cat, even before he actually became one. Scratching on her door, yearning for food and attention and someone to love him. So she gathered him up in her arms and kissed his head, holding him as tight as she could. “You’re not a stray anymore. You’re home.”

O~o~O