Flipped (Super Paper Mario SWAP AU)

Flashback #4

There was a harsh knocking at the front door which woke Blumiere up. He had been peacefully dreaming, though now he couldn't remember what it was he was dreaming about. All he knew was that everything felt warm and safe, and he wanted to go back to that. It's strange, how quickly dreams can fade from memory. Sometimes, he wondered why that was. Maybe everyone forgot most dreams so quickly because if they didn't, their minds would be so filled with dreams that memories of the real world would feel crowded.

He sat up and walked over to his bedroom door, cracking it open just slightly. He could hear his father stumble out of bed and tiredly drag himself to the door, though Blumiere couldn't see anything. He wanted to leave his room and figure out what was going on so late in the night, but he knew better. As the executioner, he had enemies. Usually, these late-night visits were from families of people who've received the death sentence.

The door opened, and there was whispering. Blumiere wished they could raise their voices just slightly so he could make out what was being said. The person who was speaking to his father sounded harsh, his voice was steady too. His father was quiet, though that wasn't unusual. People screamed and threw things at him all the time, but he almost never reacted back. There was never any point in arguing with someone who was grieving and devastated.

There was more whispering, then a firm "No," from the executioner. That was the only full word Blumiere could make out before the front door was harshly closed, but not slammed. His father never slammed doors.

Blumiere couldn't go back to sleep that night. He knew that this was probably just another angry person, but no one had been executed in a very long time, so he couldn't understand why someone would show up now. Was someone about to be executed?

He tried asking his father about what happened once morning rolled around, but he was met with no reply. He expected this.

It was the 19th of the month, his day to go see Timpani again and make more plans to unite their two tribes. Even if his father gave up on that dream, he wasn't going to. He wasn't going to give up on her, no matter what.

His father stayed inside while he went out to do a few of his usual daily tasks. It was the end of the week, so he needed to get more food for the next. His dad used to take care of all of this, but people would make it a nightmare, so Blumiere liked to take the pressure off his shoulders. He could tell his father felt guilty, though. About a lot of things. The world hated him, and there was nothing he could do about it. He had essentially become a reclusive mess ever since he stopped going to meet with Merlon, hiding away in his house unless his job commanded he take care of someone. 

He missed the person his dad was when they could still both go to see Merlon and Timpani. It wasn't the same person he was when Blumiere's mother was still around, this one was slightly happier. Slightly less timid. He felt just a little more alive. And, most importantly, he was hopeful. He believed that maybe their two worlds really could be united, that maybe there was someone out there who didn't hate him.

If all went well, Blumiere could hopefully bring that version of his father back.

It was springtime, but the air was still cold. People were outside like they always were, only they seemed quieter than usual. All their eyes were on him. This was normal, though, everyone looked at him with less than kind glances because he was the executioner's son.

These looks felt more tense, though. Some eyes were angry, others were almost glassy as if they were silently saying goodbye to him. It wasn't the usual distrustful glances they often gave.

"Blumiere, what are you doing?" a girl he had grown up with asked, walking up beside him and lowering her voice. 

"I'm getting food," he answered. "What's wrong? I don't think you've talked to me since I turned eighteen."