CURRENT RANKINGS

(subject to frequent or infrequent change)

VIP STATUS

1. MARIO 2. LUIGI

3. PEACH 4. LINK

PRIMARY STATUS

5. ISABELLE 6. DAISY

7. KIRBY 8. BOWSER

9. ZELDA 10. ROSALINA

A soft smile crossed onto my face as the soft purr of conversation in the room rumbled on. After arriving at Smash at seven o'clock, resubmitting my uniform for the end of the program, and cleaning out my cubby, the very first thing I did was find my way to the rankings board to check how everything turned out after both parties finished their final assessments.

At last, everything was right with the board again. First of all, I was in fifth and highest place of the standard rank, which was more than I could have ever asked for, but it was utterly astonishing nonetheless. Link had reclaimed his place in fourth place between Peach and me. He had also kicked Ganondorf off the list entirely, but I knew the inside reason for that. Mario had agreed not to let him go only for his place on the list to become forbidden. The idea seemed to have smoothed over well with him, since I didn't become aware of any displeasure or protests that he would have most likely made publicly. Everything really did work out in the end.

There wasn't really a graduation plan, as I found out shortly after I had arrived. When I entered the building and discovered a considerable number of fighters strolling about the lobby rather than gathering somewhere for an event, I snagged the attention of one passing through to be told that there was no proper event. It was simply getting there, hanging out for a bit, sneaking a peak at the ranking board, checking in with Mario, and then it was done. Considering Link's name was still so high on the list and hadn't dropped any numbers, it was the only option to assume that he had successfully battled Luigi yesterday and passed his final assessment with flying colors. I should have expected that, though.

"Ah, Isabelle!" Mario's perky voice yanked me out of my thoughts. I turned around to find him shuffling across the clean white floor to approach me. A beaming smile had locked onto his face—He must have been so proud of this season's graduates. "Glad to see you made it in today. I hope you got some well-earned rest. You certainly look well."

"Thank you, Mario. I definitely did," I said, easily returning his cheerful smile.

"Wonderful!" Mario enthusiastically clasped his hands together, turning casually on his heel into a leisurely stroll towards the door. I sensed that he wanted me to walk with him, so I sauntered along at his side. "So, pretty big day for you, huh? Last day of training."

"It really is," I agreed.

We filed through the door and into the hall that would lead us into the lobby, proceeding in an unhurried pace across the hall.

"What do you think, Isabelle?" Mario asked me. "You've worked hard to get here and you've finally reached the end of the program. See? You were unsure how you were meant to fit in here and I've turned you into a proper warrior."

"It was quite the journey," I noted. "I wasn't sure if I could make it. It's very relieving to be here today."

"So, what's next for you?" Mario inquired curiously. "Are you coming back in March for registration? Or are you moving on to take your life in a different direction?"

"You know, I was thinking about that," I admitted. The illuminated lights of the hallway shone down on us and left streaks of light across the white floor. "I think it's time for me to go. These past couple of years working for you have been wonderful, but it's about time that I truly explore everything that's waiting for me. I've completed my goal and it's time that I set out for a new one. Maybe there will be a day when I decide to come back, but for now, I'm finished."

We emerged from the opening out into the high-reaching lobby. The array of giant windows positioned across the front walls cast blankets of pure sunlight across the floor. The area was still just as bustling as ever, fighters appearing and disappearing through open entryways and crossing the wide open floorspace. I had spent so many mornings of my life here that it was odd to think that this was the last.

After stepping through the entryway, Mario slowed to a stop and faced me.

"This really is the last day here for you, then," Mario acknowledged. "I'll make adjustments accordingly. I hope you enjoyed your time here, Isabelle. I really do. I wasn't always the best boss, but I hope that I was still a positive influence in your life. You were a great student. I hope that wherever your life takes you pleases you."

Mario outstretched his hand, raising it towards me to shake my paw. A handshake in goodbye wasn't much of a motion to see me off, though, considering the last two years that had transformed him into a father to me. I didn't grab ahold of his hand. Instead, I bent at the knees to meet his height and flung my arms around his shoulders, clutching him close in a firm hug. Mario's lack of hesitance told me that he had been feeling exactly the same way. I felt his hands close in on my back—His arms weren't long enough to reach fully around me—And embraced me as tightly as he could manage.

"Well, hello, you two!" An approaching cheerful voice from the hallway rose behind us.

I withdrew from Mario and straightened to my full height to notice Peach and Luigi shuffling towards us from the other end of the hallway. Peach's high heels clicked steadily across the hard floor as her puffed skirt trailed behind her and Luigi spotted a purplish bruise on the side of his face. He had probably earned that yesterday amidst all of the fighting of the final assessments.

"Isabelle, I'm glad we caught you before you headed home for the day," Peach remarked as she and Luigi stopped to engage in conversation with Mario and me. She was maybe a good six inches taller than Luigi, I noticed. "That was good work a couple days ago. I didn't get to say it then, but I'm very impressed. Have you come to a decision on whether you'll be coming back in the spring?"

"This is her last day, sadly," Mario answered for me.

"Oh, I see." Peach's eyes flicked to meet mine. "In that case, it's good that we're talking now so that our last memory together is a fight. Are you heading out now?"

"In a minute, yes," I said.

"Well, then," Peach replied, finishing her sentence by opening her arms for a hug. I let myself become wrapped up in her arms, sinking into her familiar gentle embrace. From this close, her perfume was unusually obvious, a powerful scent of elegance and sunshine. I gave Luigi a hug next, withdrawing once again at the swelling sense that the moment was soon to end.

"I wish I could say goodbye to everyone, but I don't have nearly enough time," I said. Mario, Peach, and Luigi watched me closely, kindly listening to my words. "I feel like I'm leaving my family behind."

"Well, there's someone who might appreciate your goodbyes," Mario told me, lifting his hand again to point across the lobby.

Across the lobby, positioned against a wall closer to the doors from where I stood, Link sat alone on the floor amidst a pale patch of sunlight. It was clear that he had already turned in his uniform as well, as he was dressed instead in the same teal t-shirt and tan-colored pants that I had seen him in the day that I stood against Ganondorf. He was resting an arm on a propped knee, gazing thoughtfully and silently towards the glass doors at the front of the building as his blond ponytail tumbled down his shoulder. Mario had already known before I did that he was there, so he must have already checked in with him. Why hadn't he left yet? For an instant, I almost wondered if he was waiting for me before I remembered that his girlfriend was surely soon to join him.

I could spare some time for Link before I had to go. I abandoned my friends at the opening, politely weaving through the passing fighters to reach him. He finally noticed me approaching from about three feet away, raising his head to glance up at me when I arrived. A slight smile crossed his face at the sight of me. As someone who rarely smiled entirely, this carried as much weight as a beam.

"Hi!" I greeted him, easing myself down into a seat on the floor next to him and setting my back against the wall. "Is it your last day for the season, too?"

Link nodded silently. A ray of sunlight cascaded down his face, enhancing the blue in his eyes.

"I'm guessing that probably means you passed your assessment," I noted. "I figured you would, though."

Link nodded again. The same soft smile had begun to creep back into his face again. I opened my mouth to ask about his plans for his presence or absence at Smash in the future, but a different thought sprung to my head before any words came out.

"You just had your birthday last month, didn't you? Middle of May?" I asked. Link nodded politely as I continued to speak. "How old are you now?"

Link raised his hands to show me, first flashing all ten of his fingers before four on each hand the second time.

"Eighteen," I realized aloud. Link lowered his hands again. "That's a big change. You've officially entered adulthood. You're hitting all the big milestones at once."

Link nodded slightly another time. He raised his hand again, this time to point at me.

"I'm twenty-two," I told him, understanding what he was asking. "I had my birthday back in December. I started here when I was twenty, so not that much older than you."

The conversation trickled out. Without a word, Link watched the fighters passing into and out of the building from the glass doors. I did the same. I observed the smiling faces. I listened to the lighthearted chatter. I absorbed myself in both the sights and the warm feeling of the sunlight bleeding into the room. Something about this moment was just so peaceful, unhurried. The final day feeling so pleasant made it all the more special. Soaking in the sweet sensation, I shifted in my seat on the floor and perched my head down onto my little brother's shoulder. He hesitated—He didn't quite seem uncomfortable, just unfamiliar—And embraced the act of affection, setting down his head next to mine. And there we sat, taking in the moment together rather than alone.

It was only after a few minutes of silence did I remember that I had neglected to put forth the question that had lingered on my tongue earlier.

"I've decided that I'm going to leave Smash Ultimate, now that I've finished my training," I said, shifting again to raise my head and scooting away to keep us from getting uncomfortably close for our familial-like relationship. Link watched me carefully, listening to my words. "What about you? Are you coming back?"

Wordlessly, as expected, Link shook his head. He was leaving just as I was.

"I see," I replied. "What's next for you, then? Are you finding another job? Retiring early?"

Link made a brief movement with his hand again, one that I identified as something in sign language, given his reluctance to speak aloud. He put his fingers together and first touched the corner of his mouth, secondly near his ear, and then again to the same spot next to his mouth. I had taught myself a bit of sign language when I was still living at home, but I was way rusty with all of the meanings. I only stared at him at first, racking my brain for the meaning of this action. He did it again, as if I had missed it, and I realized what he was trying to say.

"Home," I translated. "You're going home. You're not even going to be in this area anymore. You're quite a ways from home right now, aren't you?"

Link nodded, setting his hand back down.

"That's great, Link. It makes me happy to think you'll be seeing your family again," I said, but my voice trailed off as he shook his head to correct me. He leaned forward and set the palm of his hand against the white floor where we sat. I understood what that meant. "Oh... Your family is here. We're your family. But you're going back home to return to a sense of familiarity, right?"

Link nodded, moving back into his seat. Before I had the chance to speak again, he lifted his hand to point across the lobby. I followed his point, my focus landing on a small cluster of fighters standing in the opening to a hallway across the way. Three out of the four I regrettably struggled to identify by name, but the fourth I had seen before and was expecting to show up at some point. It was Link's girlfriend, dressed in a lengthy sky blue dress as her thick blonde hair tumbled down her back. She was engaged in what seemed to be a particularly cheerful conversation with her peers, smiling brightly with the occasional laugh. Her name was Zelda. I had recognized her face two days ago when waiting for my assessment and heard someone address her with that name. If Link was comfortable speaking aloud, I surely would have heard that name leave his lips several times. If he was going home, then she was, as well. He wasn't completely leaving his family behind. Although, maybe that wasn't what he meant. Maybe he meant that no matter where he went, he had family there to support him.

A different thought seeped into my mind.

"I don't think I'm ever going to see you again," I realized aloud, turning my face back to look at him.

The soft glimmer of joy vanished from Link's eyes, sinking instead into a solemnity that darkened them. He said nothing, of course, and only watched me.

"Think about it." I adjusted my seat again, carefully climbing to my feet. Noticing the action, Link rose as well to join me. "I'm not coming back. You're not coming back. Even if one of us decides to come back one year, what are the chances that the other one does or that we'll register in the same year? The chances are just too low."

Link nodded softly in agreement. His face was too blank to read.

"Well, I guess that changes some things, doesn't it?" I said. "It's obvious now, but I suppose I just didn't realize that when I would say goodbye today, it would be for good."

The kindling warmth of the happy morning still remained, but something else had claimed that place, as well. My chest had begun to ache—Not with pain, only with sorrow. It dug deep into the surface, settling somewhere in the depths of my heart. After so many changes that I had surrendered to in my life, it was a wonder how goodbye could still pain me so.

"You know that I care about you, right?" I went on. "Please look after yourself. Be good to yourself. Give yourself breaks when you need them. Promise me you'll do all of that."

Link bowed his head in a slow nod. I believed him. I drew in a deep breath before I continued speaking.

"You mean a lot to me, Link," I told him. "I've had a great time working with you. We made some memories that I think I'll never forget. If we don't cross paths again, just know that you'll always be in my heart. When you leave today, I want you to go out and have a good life. I want you to chase your dreams and feel the joy and thrill of achieving them. I want you to love yourself as much as I love you because as far as I'm concerned, you're nothing short of family."

Link's gaze never broke from mine. It wasn't until I had finished speaking that I could thoroughly study his face. Only now was the expression more visible. He was surprised, his eyes having widened just slightly in a way that gave it away. He hadn't ever been told something like that before, or at least that was what read on his face. A certain hint of emotion other than the surprise on his face now dwelled in the blue of his eyes. The telltale flicker of swelling sadness.

When I blinked, tears burned the lower rim of my eyes. I probably should have expected this. After my second chance on life, I had transformed into the image of my mother in regard to her waterworks emotions. I didn't risk speaking. I could already picture the breaks in my voice if I tried. I yanked Link against me in a hug, enclosing my arms around him and squeezing him so tightly that the tears instantly spilled down my face. For someone who was barely expressive at all, feeling his arms fold around me just as firmly, if not more so, nearly surprised me.

"I'm so proud of you," I whispered hoarsely through my tears and clutched ahold of him like there was no tomorrow.

I gulped back my tears within the next several seconds, feeling my breath turn steady again before I withdrew. I met Link's eyes again, watching him long enough to examine his face again. He was smiling slightly again, but the same emotions were still locked into his face. If I didn't go now, I would never have. I forced a final smile, hesitantly moving past him to make my way to the doors. I set my paw on the bar handle, but my eyes were already sneaking a glance behind me again before I could have pushed it open. Link was standing right where I left him at the wall. Mario, Peach, and Luigi were standing where I left them in the opening into the room. With varying broadness, each one still wore a polite smile as they watched me leave. I allowed myself to linger for a few seconds, my eyes bouncing between the four of them, memorizing their faces, stealing every moment just to see them longer.

I thrust open the door and left Smash Ultimate for the last time.

This letter of felicitation is presented to Isabelle the Shih Tzu for a successful training session at the company of Smash Ultimate. I, Mario of the Mario brothers, award the highest congratulations for passing and proceeding phases one, two, three, and the finale of the training program. All of the support and effort you have put into this company is greatly appreciated. Your work has made such a positive contribution to our present and future.

I acknowledge your decision to leave. This letter will be arriving on the day of your graduation from this program. Registration will open up next year from March 16-21. In the length of your absence, your name will never be forgotten. You will remain a victorious fighter at Smash no matter where you are or what you do. Your work will be recognized for years to come by the general population as well as the Smash team here. To legitimize this document, the date of your temporary or permanent departure will be signed as follows: 06/18/18 

Wherever your journey may take you, I hope you make the most of it. From the bottom of my heart, thank you for a wonderful session.

Mario Mario

Smash Ultimate Headquarters

December 20, 2018

. . .

Let the weekend begin.

Well, technically, it wasn't the weekend at all, and technically, it was Thursday. What it was, however, was my twenty-third birthday and the fourth day into a week off that Tom had granted for me specifically for the occasion. So far, I had spent every day like these vacation days would last forever. I slept in every single day, dragging myself out of bed somewhere between ten and noon and lounging around however I saw fit for the rest of the day. I spent more hours than I cared to admit scrolling through the channels on television in my bedroom—My family never invested in a television while I was growing up, so it was an addiction to sit in front of it before I knew it. I took lengthy walks in the brisk air and immersed myself in thick books in parks and wooded areas. With so much to think about in my long-anticipated vacation, I nearly forgot my birthday was approaching swiftly.

This morning, the first day of my twenty-third year, my eyes were pried open by an unusual brightness bleeding through my curtains. It was different than sunlight, more artificial or white. I drew back the pale curtains to discover a wonderland of snow already waiting for me, densely caking the ground and the roofs of the buildings next door, but the snowfall had yet to end. Puffy orbs of snow still fluttered gracefully down to the sea of white and decorated the windows in tiny spots. I quickly found myself enchanted by the sights, mesmerized by the illuminated world and the drastic changes from yesterday. It was such a pleasant sight that I kept the curtains drawn open, propped up the pillows on my bed, and reclined to watch it within the comfort of my blankets.

The dark covers snugly encased my body, my arms sprawled casually beside me. After climbing back into bed, I had since turned on the television in the high corner to enjoy a bit of watching before lunchtime, but my focus was straying. The smooth voices of instructors on a specifically low-key cooking show softened the atmosphere as my eyes no longer watched, but stared out the exposed window where the snow still fell. I silently watched the snowflakes flitter down, tracing the pace of each one, and was at peace.

How was I going to spend my birthday? It was already shortly after eleven; the day wasn't exactly getting any slower. Sleeping the day away was a comforting aspect of any other day, but doing it today would have just been a waste. It wasn't like I planned to leave the house, either. I owned a winter coat to shield me from the snow and frigid temperatures, but I didn't see much value in putting myself there without good reason. It would do me well to be more active today, finish some of the chores I had been putting off. The productivity would have been rewarding, at the very least. I could have treated myself to a warm cup of hot chocolate afterwards for relaxation. I could have done it up all fancy, too, with whipped cream and marshmallows and maybe chocolate syrup, just because it was my birthday.

I shut off the television right in the middle of the instructor's sentence about how much to preheat the oven before preparing cranberry-oatmeal cookies and slipped out of bed. I tucked my legs into a pair of black lounge pants and a reddish-purple knit sweater. I collected up the clothes I had strewn across my carpeted floor into a laundry basket and dumped them into the wash. I sprayed down my windows and wood surfaces and cleaned them. I lit a firewood scented candle that reminded me of camping, specifically the lasting trips before moving into houses of my own, indulging in the smell that drifted through the house. I swept the floors and took several minutes to stretch out my limbs, standing on the surfaces I had just tidied before. I had been well in shape while working at Smash, but as I left six months ago, my flexibility was growing stiff again. After that, I decided that I was finished and carried myself to the kitchen for my reward.

I boiled some water and prepared a cup of hot chocolate in just the way I promised myself I would, neglecting to forget the whipped cream, bobbing marshmallows, and a drizzle of chocolate syrup on top. I brought my mug to the dining table to delight in it, taking a seat and lifting the edge to my mouth to gulp down the first sip. The scent struck my nose first, a heavenly essence of chocolate, before I tasted it. With the rich taste swirling on my tongue and the firewood smell still clouding the air, I couldn't remember the last time I had felt so serene and happy.

Only a few minutes of solitude were granted to me as I continued to gulp down the warm drink within that time. I had just set the mug down on the polished wooden table again before the chime of the doorbell caught my attention. I knew exactly who it was by the sound alone. As far as I knew, nobody in the area had remotely any inclination to visit me right from my front door other than Tom. He was supposed to be working at the moment, but he must have decided to swing by to wish me happy birthday and maybe deliver a present.

My eye caught a line of dried chocolate that had begun to dribble down the side of the mug. Oh, well. Cleaning it could have waited until after I greeted Tom. I perched my paws on the edge of the table to balance myself, stretching my neck back to glance at the door across the short hall.

"What, was work so boring without me that you had to come and visit?" I yelled out to tease him, but it was a woman's voice that called back with the same tone to match my energy.

"Well, you know, home design is more fun than you might think!"

My stomach flipped over in a massive somersault as my breath caught in my throat. No way. I scrambled up from my seat at the table, causing my chair to groan as it was pushed back again. My heart was already clobbering against the casing of my chest as I crossed the hall in short strides, rushing to reach the front door. I flung open the door to a face that was burned into my long-term memory, easily recognizable despite being several years older. Lottie was at my front door, snugly bundled up in a puffy pink coat with her chocolate-brown hair drawn up into a tight bun as it had been the last time I had seen her six years ago as she took Digby away for his first day for work. I only caught a glimpse of her familiar pink face before my arms were slinging around her, slamming into a crushing embrace.

"Well, that's a reaction!" Lottie joked as soon as my arms locked tightly around her. I felt her arms sink around me in return, cradling me close as we stood together in the doorway. The brisk chill of the outside world was starting to seep into the house, but I didn't care.

"What are you doing here?" I urged to know. A faint shiver had begun to rattle me, but I ignored it.

"I was planning to give you a call for your birthday, but I decided I wanted to see your face in person instead," Lottie told me. After an entire puppyhood of friendship, I was still so accustomed to hearing her voice, feeling so natural even with the years we had been apart.

I withdrew again, this time to study her. She had barely changed since we last met. The same voice, the same positive demeanor and sunny smile, even down to the blue spotted bow she tucked into her hair in front of her bun. She was a couple of inches shorter than me—I failed to recall if this had been true when we were still teenagers—And a heck of a lot older than when I lived within visiting range.

"Wow, look at you!" I exclaimed, setting my paws on her puffy sleeves. Blurry tears swelled and stung my eyes. "I haven't seen you since we were teenagers. How old are you now? Twenty-five?"

"Mm-hmm," Lottie said. She reached out her paws, enclosing them onto my cheeks as if to hold my face still. "Oh, no, please don't cry! You're going to make me cry."

I forced an awkward laugh, brushing away a tear that had begun to drip down my face as Lottie withdrew her paws again.

"I feel like I've missed so much of your life!" Lottie told me. "Let's take a stroll and catch up with everything. I'll wait here for you while you grab your coat. Take your time."

Well, that certainly was a good reason to go outside, something I didn't have ten minutes ago. I heard the door swing shut as Lottie stepped inside, shutting out the chilly winter air, while I crossed the hall to my bedroom at the end. My mind was still reeling at the idea that, after spending so much time away from her, she was standing in my house right at this very moment. I retrieved my own coat from my closet, a forest green velvet, and shrugged it onto my shoulders. I rejoined Lottie and we stepped out from the house together, starting on a slow-paced walk along the snow.

We talked about the noteworthy events of our lives that we had missed out on as the biting temperatures pinched our cheeks. I reiterated my adventures working in the shop and then Smash Ultimate. She had already been aware that I used to work two jobs to support myself, likely from Digby. She was particularly startled by Smash's methods, which I supposed I understood. I shut myself up to allow her to ramble about her experiences at Happy Home for a while. It was as she was explaining some collaborations she was involved in with Digby—As much as she was permitted to tell me, anyway—When a question leaped to my tongue.

"I heard about what happened," I pointed out. Lottie instantly quieted at these words, listening politely but with a hint of surprise sinking into her face. She knew what I was talking about. "Digby told me everything over the phone last year. He said he had already returned to work."

"He did, yes." The tiny wisps of hair that had slipped free from Lottie's bun as well as the edges of her hair bow fiddled in the soft breeze. Seeming aware and somewhat inconvenienced by it, Lottie hastily brushed the free hair back again. "He came back about two and a half years ago in, um... I think it was June. He's really turned things around since then."

"I remember he said that you two weren't getting along anymore," I said. "Of course, that was more than a year ago and I know things change. He said that he was worried you wouldn't trust him anymore after how disappointed you were in him. I'm just glad that you're talking about him in the present tense. That means your friendship didn't become so strained that you physically couldn't work with him anymore. Are you getting along well nowadays? Where does your connection stand?"

"Oh. I had no idea he felt that way," Lottie admitted. A brief shout rang out in the distance. "Well, of course I still trust him. That's pretty much the bare minimum of how I feel about him. It was a bit rocky when he first came back, but that's long gone. I'd easily say we're best friends again. No, I love working with him. I think we might be closer than ever now, actually."

We continued to stroll side by side. With every step, we quietly appreciated the sights and sounds of the natural world. The whistling of the wind, the subtle crunching of our footsteps in the fresh snow, the frigid temperatures squeezing every inch of exposed fur and skin on our faces and paws. Lottie had always preferred cooler temperatures, at least other than the baking summertime heat. She must have been right in her essence here. The lingering smile on her face surely implied so. I wondered if the weather at home shared any similarities.

"How long have you been in town?" I inquired.

"Since last night," Lottie explained. "I caught a seven thirty flight after work and landed at about eleven fifteen. I booked a room in a hotel just about three miles from here. I didn't know when you would be awake today so I grabbed a quick breakfast and spent some time at the room before heading over."

"That's a lot of work for a surprise visit," I noted. "I appreciate it a lot, but how long did it take you to plan this?"

"Not long," Lottie confessed. "I ordered the ticket about three weeks in advance and packed up last Sunday. So, it wasn't exactly on a whim, either."

We had looped around the block, already shuffling down the path to where my front door would have been waiting for us. The conversation had fizzled out for just a few minutes before Lottie spoke up again.

"Have you got any fun upcoming plans?" She inquired, turning her face to meet my gaze again. "For your birthday or anything else?"

"I was granted the week off from work, so I'd call that fun," I said. Lottie nodded, intently following as I spoke. "It's good that I did, because I wouldn't have been here if I didn't. The only direct plans I have for my birthday are just lounging around the house until my break ends. What about you? Anything special going for you?"

"Well, I can't talk too much about it yet, but I've got the first ideas for a new branch of work at the HHDA that I plan to develop upon and set into motion sometime in the next few years," Lottie said. A secretive, almost sly smile had begun to creep across her face. "It comes to my attention that you've been working so hard and with such devotion. I've never seen someone so dedicated to their work before. You don't want to tire yourself out, though. Remember to balance work and relaxation. Vacations over New Year's are becoming more and more popular. How pleasant would it feel to set aside your work and spend a few weeks in, say, paradise?"

We arrived at my front door again, but we both hesitated to return indoors as the conversation strung on.

"Speaking of which, do you have any plans for the special occasion?" Lottie asked. "I always try to make time to celebrate the arrival of the new year. Is there anything going on personally or professionally?"

"Actually, yes!" I pointed out. "There's a fireworks show being hosted the night of at work."

"Oh, really? That sounds like so much fun!" Lottie remarked. "Tell me more about that."

"It's meant to start at eleven o'clock, give or take ten minutes," I explained. "I can't wait to see it. I doubt anyone will have the time to show up, considering it's so late in the night, but even if it's just me, that'll be completely fine. I think seeing all of the colors flashing through the sky will be enough to kickstart the year into something magical."

I allowed my eyes to flutter open again, still rolling through the memory of my conversation with Lottie on the afternoon of my birthday. That was eleven days ago now, but it had taken such an unexpected turn in my life that the words exchanged were nearly just as fresh. I had just signed off from a full shift in the shop and carried myself right to the sloping hill in front of it to wait for the show to begin. It was already eleven o'clock. Crickets stirred in the depths of the shadows and a soft, crisp breeze rustled the short grass. I considered it lucky that the snow had already melted before this night could come around. The temperatures had since spiked after my birthday and watered down all that the snowfall carried. And now, soon enough, the pitch black sky would be alight with bursts of every color.

The sky was sprinkled with stars like someone had carelessly spilled salt onto a black tablecloth. My eyes jumped across it, intently anticipating the first shot of color into the sky. The sky, however, remained still even as the moments crept by. As I had somewhat expected, I was sitting alone on the grassy hill. All of the animals in the area must have been uninterested in the event, unaware of the event, too tired from the day to attend, or already asleep. It didn't matter much to me. I didn't come to interact with others. The show would have been just as entertaining if it was watched with only me, myself, and I.

I was fidgeting with the grass around my crossed legs to pass the time when the screeching whine first released from the skies. I looked up to the skies just in time to witness the first erupting firework. A vibrant orange popped into an outbreak of decoration, sounding a thunderous crackle on the way and casting a flash of light across the grass. Instantly, I found myself completely engrossed in the sights as more colors rocketed into the sky, shattering across the blackness and illuminating the area with tinted flickers.

I was utterly enchanted within moments, gazing up at the sights and prying for the next explosion after one trickled away. I sensed each clap of sound deep in my chest. I followed each trail into the sky, absorbed in the ripple of satisfaction when each one unfurled. It was almost funny—In my late teens, I had passed through a phase where I had been wholly resistant to the idea of fireworks. Too loud, too distracting, too overwhelming, I had insisted upon. Sure, it was noisy, but that was half the point of them. Tonight, the bewitching ruptures of every color and design one could imagine and the chilling unpredictability of it all was what drew me in.

Amidst the earsplitting crackle, I registered a different sound, one notably softer. The crunch of steady approaching footsteps had arrived behind me. I raised my head as Tom slowed to a stop beside me. His figure had darkened in the late hour, but the flashing colors sent waves of illumination across his face as he looked at me in return. Was he coming to join me?

"It's getting late," Tom warned me politely. "You should probably start thinking about heading home."

"Oh, I know," I assured him. Our conversation was considerably muffled by the thunderclaps of sound. "I just wanted to stay and watch the fireworks for a bit."

"All right. Don't stay too late," Tom replied.

"Mm-hmm." I gave a nod and a bright smile, though I wasn't confident that he could have seen it very clearly with the limited flashes of light. "Thanks, Mr. Nook."

"You're welcome, Isabelle," Tom said, allowing his gaze to stray upon me for a second longer before he slowly turned to walk away again. He wasn't staying with me after all, I supposed.

Tom shuffled back across the grass for maybe a step and a half before he paused again. Curious as to what had stopped him, I lifted my eyes again. He was still standing at my side, but his gaze no longer met mine. His face was instead turned up to the sky, watching the fireworks erupt across the stars. Well, that was all right. I dropped my focus on him, following his lead to return my eyes to the show. As a shimmer of purple showered from above us, he eased himself down into a seat beside me.

Together, we sat to delight in the show. I seemed to be the only one between us genuinely enjoying it, though. While I followed every single motion that flung across the sky, Tom was simply watching, his eyes glazed over like something else was on his mind. I didn't need to wait long at all to figure out what he was still preoccupied with instead. Just minutes after he had sat down, his shift in his seat caught my attention as he gingerly withdrew a small notebook and a pen from his pocket and cracked it open. I turned again to look at him. He was working now, after working for a full fifteen hours during the day?

"Do you have enough light?" I asked him as he began to scribble down onto the first blank page.

"Not really," Tom murmured.

I decided to drop the subject. It wasn't really any of my business what he did with his time, anyway. I would have even called it admirable to have the dedication to work this long. Besides, having not expected him to spend some time, it was more of a pleasant surprise. Even though he was determined to finish the work he had begun for the day, he decided to pursue progress on it within my company.

Something in the atmosphere shifted as I knew, consciously and subconsciously, that he was by my side. I was comfortable before, but now, I was more aware of it. A sort of warm peace like a gentle embrace settled deep within me, a sense of security and comfort. He really had such a tender presence, an aura of sincerity that just radiated from him. I didn't often cross paths with him except at closing time, but it had slipped my mind how much I loved having him as company. He didn't even need to do anything, it was simply an unseen energy that somehow deeply touched mine. I allowed a soft smile to inch onto my face, leaning my weight onto my paws on the ground behind me and watching the booming fireworks as the scratching of his pen against the paper went on from beside me.

It was particularly satisfying to consider that after the struggles, the triumphs and trials of the last two years, here I sat, amidst the celebration of the start of the new year in approximately fifty minutes. About a year ago, I would have decided this made my suffering void—Not in the way that it wasn't validated, but that it no longer weighed me down. That wasn't what this was, not at all. I acknowledged not only my struggles but the notion that this was where they ended, that this was where a new era began in its place. It was closure for the events that had come my way that I wasn't too fond of. With a looser schedule, at least I had a bit more control over my life now. I was about to make this life exactly as I saw fit.

It was this thought that sparked the reminder of another. Among the many things that I had discovered about my life and life itself across the last couple years, this was one of them. All of the lessons I had taught myself after having that life nearly snatched from me in a moment's notice were springing to my tongue as soon as the first one had crept in. I decided that they were waiting to be expressed.

"I feel like I've learned so much this year," I spoke up again. Tom paused in his writing to raise his head and follow my words. "A lot about life."

"You think so?" Tom replied. An erupting firework from above us flung a flash of yellow across his face.

"Mm-hmm," I agreed. "I think these last couple years were the most eye-opening of my life."

"What makes you think that?" Tom inquired curiously.

"There was just so much that I realized," I explained. "There's so much more that I know now about life in particular that I didn't realize before. Can I share some of them with you?"

"Yes, if you'd like to," Tom said, offering a nod of confirmation. His notebook was still propped open in his lap, his pen resting against the page as if he was prepared to start writing again the minute I began sharing. I tried not to read what he had written, understanding that it wasn't for my own eyes.

"I'd love to," I replied. A thunderous crackle echoed from above. "I have a lot of thoughts bouncing around my head."

"All right." Tom bowed his head to shut the notebook in his lap, sliding first it and then the accompanying pen back into the pocket it had come from. My next words were already tingling on the tip of my tongue before he turned his focus back to me, casually resting the sides of his arms on his crossed legs.

"I think that life is so precious and fragile not to make it exactly how you wanted," I recalled the reminder I had taken just moments ago. "You know, to chase your dreams and make sure you're happy. It can be snatched from you at any moment and if that happens, you can't leave anything undone."

Tom nodded slightly to beckon me to continue after I finished my sentence. I noticed that he wasn't preoccupied with other thoughts anymore, that he was carefully taking in every word I spoke to him.

"I think this also contributed greatly to how I see and interact with others," I added. "Everyone is really just doing what they can to survive. It sometimes comes across as selfishness if you look into it too deeply, but it's in our nature to look after ourselves. That's what I think, anyway."

Tom was still nodding here and there as he listened to my rambles.

"Actually, that makes me think of something else I learned," I pointed out. "There's so many parts of life that so easily go unnoticed. Sometimes if you're too focused on work or anything else going on, you forget to appreciate life for what it is. I know I've definitely done that. I'm trying to slow down and acknowledge everything around me, everything that brought me here, and just... Me, I suppose. The life that keeps me here."

My words receded. A tugging suspicion told me there was more that I had neglected to share, but I strained to remember just what it was. The lightbulb in my mind had dimmed, low on power. Tom was still silently examining me, maybe waiting for me to keep speaking. While I racked my brain for something else to say, it was a question that submerged first.

"Mr. Nook, do you ever think about things like that?" I asked.

"Well..." Tom's answer was hesitant as he searched for the answer. His eyes tracked the grass around us as if he would find the right words within one of the blades. "I suppose I have, but not in the way you describe it."

"Really?" I said. The vagueness spiked my interest. "What do you mean?"

"I've thought about similar topics, but I don't suppose I've ever approached them like that," Tom explained.

I abandoned the conversation to contemplate the words we had just shared. I was pretty sure that, at this point, I was completely comfortable sharing my innermost thoughts and feelings with Tom. I hadn't had a friend that I felt comfortable chatting with so casually in that regard since I still lived at home with Digby and my parents. I was finally allowing someone into my life for all that it held. But still I hardly knew the first thing about Tom's life. I couldn't blame him for that, though. I could see just from the lingering weariness overshadowing his face that his life hadn't been nearly as fortunate as mine.

"What do you think about life, Mr. Nook?" I asked him, turning my focus towards him again. He did the same, though considerably more abruptly in a motion of surprise. It was a big question, after all.

"What do I think about life?" Tom echoed as if clarifying that he had heard me correctly.

"Mm-hmm. What do you think about life?" I asked a second time.

"I suppose I've never considered it," Tom admitted.

"Oh," I said, planning to drop the discussion there, but he wasn't finished.

Tom drew in a slow breath, gazing thoughtfully up at the sparkling colors as we listened to the crackling booms they emitted. He only remained silent for a few seconds longer before his eyes met mine again.

"I think..." Tom began. "Life is full of many disappointments. There's always something dreadful lurking around the corner and there's nothing you can do to prevent it. It's near impossible to find success in a world so deeply riddled with liars and bullies. There are too many horrible things in this life for anyone to truly be happy. That's what I think about it."

Somehow, I could still identify the deep blue in his eyes under the thin, flashing lights of color, crashing with powerful waves of simplicity and purity. I had somewhat expected his answer to run along these lines, so hearing them didn't stir any kind of shock or surprise. What did baffle me, however, was how casually he said such a thing. It wasn't a confession. It wasn't a big reveal. He was just answering the question. An answer that had been trained into him as simply as if asking what color the sky was.

He might not have told me anything about his own life here, but I understood far better who I was talking to. I knew that he had years and years of suffering behind him, but now I knew something else: He was too strong to allow it to take him down. The pain and anguish from before I met him didn't define the animal I knew today. For all I knew, he had dragged himself through a nightmare of a life that I couldn't even imagine and yet he still approached each morning with enough courage to chase his goals and dreams day after day. I once recognized how immensely strong I was and while this hadn't changed, he was stronger. There was nobody in this world quite like him.

An unusual impression was washing over me. It was as if I had broken through some invisible, mental threshold after who knew how long of straining. Somehow, I was free. A world's worth of pressure had lifted from me that I hadn't even known was there and I could thoroughly breathe. I could have done anything in that moment. I could have burst out crying. I could have unleashed a genuine, sound laugh from somewhere in the depths of my chest. More likely, I could have flung my arms around Tom beside me and never let go, even if the hour grew later or the sun peeked over the horizon. There were no true words for this soaring feeling uplifting my senses. So, simply, I sat with my best friend and thanked every power in the universe for him and this moment.

I hadn't realized just how long I had been sitting here, firstly by myself and secondly with Tom. I realized that the half hour mark had been breached when the very last firework shot into the sky, a yellowish gold that sprinkled against the blackness with tiny flutters and a shimmering sound, and none followed. Until the same day next year, the show was over. Tom and I noticed the ending at the same time before he glanced over at me and I knew that the nightly goodbyes would follow.

"Well, I should probably be heading home," Tom said, carefully easing himself up to stand. As it was already around eleven thirty, that was probably a good idea for me as well. I also climbed to my feet as he spoke again. "It's been a long day."

"Oh, right," I agreed, fully rising once again. "I should, too."

"Mm-hmm," Tom replied. The illumination was considerably thinner now, resorting only to the vibrant starlight raining down on us. "Good night, Isabelle. I'll see you tomorrow."

I shuffled onward through the dim atmosphere of the late night on my way home. With every step, memories from the night still rolled in as if it was still current. The erupting fireworks. The stars that would shine forevermore. And lastly, Tom's face as he sat by my side with well-enjoyed company. I arrived at home again, locked the front door, dressed myself for bed, and drifted off in wait for the next morning to arrive.

I learned three important things that night.

The first was that I had been approaching the idea of love completely wrong. Admittedly, I spent a great deal of my puppyhood with my head stuck up in the clouds. That was my mother's fault, really. She encouraged such high spirits towards the world, even if I ended up growing off of the childrens' movies that always followed the very same romantic subplot rather than following reality. No. Reality was different. If I would have been asked as a puppy what love was and what falling in love felt like, even as late in my life as when I first stepped on the boat that carried me out of my puppyhood life, I would have leaped to the answer that it was the nervousness first, then the growing connection, and lastly the bonding of souls. If I would have been asked tonight, I would have stated that love was something unpredictable and never proved itself in the same way every time. That was what made it so special.

The second was that love was not only completely unpredictable, but showed up in many different shapes and forms. There were different kinds of love. There were different provocations of such deep affection such as so. Love was not always romantic—In fact, one could have argued it was the least common form of love. The love of family was one, a familial bond, a form of love that refused to be broken apart no matter what force was driven between them. The love of friends was another, a platonic bond, a soul intertwining with one it was profoundly attached to by means of flawless connection or even a twin flame. Love truly was everywhere in this world, but it could only enter someone through an open heart. All it needed to exist was to be felt.

And thirdly, I was deeply, platonically, and irreversibly in love with Tom Nook.