Chapter Text
Isabelle always had an immense thirst for curiosity to quench. She had three high entire stacks of files with information on all the tournament fighters—including herself—and every so often—since she started taking occasional breaks to avoid burning out like she did when everyone first arrived at the mansion—she would head out to gather new intel on the fighters.
Today, she had decided to ask the twelve veterans of the tournament—Mario, Donkey Kong, Link, Samus, Yoshi, Kirby, Fox, Pikachu, Luigi, Ness, Captain Falcon, and Jigglypuff—about their experience in the very first Smash Bros. tournament in history, and what it was like to meet other so-called legends they had no idea even existed.
The first one she ran into was Mario, who was in the lounge with Sonic. The two of them were clearly bored while watching a botany show on TV.
"Hi, guys!" Isabelle greeted cheerfully as she approached. "Mario, I’ve got a few questions for you, if you don’t mind."
Mario raised an eyebrow at that, looking at Isabelle. "Are you going to ask me about my underwear size again? Because that was a really uncomfortable question."
"No, no, no, no, no! It’s nothing like that!" she said quickly, her face flushing red with embarrassment. "I’m here to ask about the first Smash tournament!"
Mario sighed with a patient smile and leaned back on the couch, lacing his fingers over his belly.
"Ah, the first tournament... those were the days. We were all new to it. None of us even knew what a Smash attack was. I thought Pikachu was just a plush toy with static electricity."
Isabelle immediately pulled out her notebook, a pen already clenched between her teeth as she scribbled rapidly.
"And what was it like the first time you saw... say, Samus?"
Mario let out a brief laugh. "I thought she was a guy with a really serious attitude, and then she took off her helmet and we were all floored when we saw she was a woman. I think Kirby thought she was a robot until he got scared just like the rest of us."
Isabelle giggled, nodding eagerly. "Amazing! Was there tension between you all? Competition? Rivalries?"
"Of course there was! Fox and Captain Falcon were always trying to impress everyone with their heroic poses. Luigi would tremble every time Samus looked at him. And don’t get me started on Ness! That kid has a stare that pierces your soul."
Isabelle looked at him in surprise. "Really? But Ness is so sweet..."
"He is... but he also hurls meteors with his mind. You learn not to judge by the cute face."
"And what did you think when you were first invited?"
"Well, I didn’t know it was a fighting tournament," he admitted. "The letter just said I was ‘cordially invited to a grand event,’ and that was it. I didn’t really trust it, and when I saw Luigi got an identical letter, we both knew something was up. When we arrived, it was weird seeing Donkey, Yoshi, and then eight total strangers. I think Samus was the most intimidating at the time, and we were all pretty confused about what was going on or why the seal on the letter suddenly transported us to that place."
Mario finished just as Isabelle was scribbling her final notes, her tongue poking slightly out of the corner of her mouth in concentration. When she finally looked up, she was beaming.
"Thank you so much, Mario! This is incredibly valuable info for my files. I’m sure it’ll be useful for historical reference!" She closed her notebook with a triumphant little tap.
"You’re welcome, Isabelle. It’s always nice to remember those days... though sometimes I wonder if we all just dreamed it," Mario said with a nostalgic chuckle.
"See you!" Isabelle waved at Sonic too with a friendly gesture before skipping cheerfully down the hallway.
Silence returned to the lounge, broken only by the narrator of the botany show talking about the medicinal properties of a Himalayan plant. Mario let it play for a few more seconds before glancing sideways at his companion on the couch.
"You’re being awfully quiet for you," he commented with a half-smile, raising an eyebrow. "Something wrong?"
Sonic didn’t reply. He pulled out, from who knows where, a folded note and handed it over as if he’d had it ready for just such an occasion. When Mario unfolded it, the shaky black letters read:
"Sorry, I have laryngitis. Can’t talk much."
Mario burst out laughing.
"Let me guess: after-effects from being sick recently?"
With a sigh and a resigned smile, Sonic nodded before settling back into the couch, arms behind his head. Mario shook his head fondly and leaned back too.
"You’re lucky you weren’t in the first tournament, buddy. That place had the chaotic energy of a daycare full of superheroes... and no supervision."
Sonic gave a thumbs up in agreement.
"The first tournament?" Donkey Kong asked, rocking gently in a hammock in his room as he rubbed his chin and peeled a banana with his feet. "To be honest, I was super confused. There were two weird creatures, a fox in clothes, an elf with a glowing sword, and some armored dude who turned out to be a chick. Oh, and Mario, Luigi, and Yoshi were there too, I guess. The moment I heard the word 'fight,' I was interested just because I could punch Mario without consequences."
Donkey Kong laughed with a deep grunt at the memory. Isabelle, sitting in a little folding chair across from his hammock, jotted everything down with a mix of awe and mild concern.
"Would you say you had a rivalry with Mario even back then?"
"‘Back then’? Ha! That goes way further back. But during the tournament... I guess it got more fun. We could fight without the island collapsing or Cranky yelling at us for breaking stuff." He took a big bite of his banana. "Though I gotta admit, I was surprised at how strong everyone was. I thought I could squash that Pikachu no problem... and I ended up electrocuted in the first minute."
Isabelle chuckled, delighted by the story. "And do you remember your first match?"
"Oh yeah. Against Fox. That little fox wouldn’t stop running and shooting. I’d try to hit him and he’d already be on the other side of the stage. Annoying as heck! But also impressive. I learned brute strength doesn’t always win... though it’s still more fun," he added, winking with simian mischief.
"Perfect! This is pure gold," Isabelle murmured as she turned the page in her notebook. "And how did you react when you saw some of the others came from such different worlds? Kirby, for example..."
Donkey Kong paused thoughtfully. "Kirby scared me at first. That kid... ball... whatever he is, he swallowed an entire crate of bananas without chewing. And then he copied me! He was walking around making gorilla noises and pounding his chest. It was weird! I wanted to smash him, but everyone said he was 'cute.'"
"Did you feel out of place?"
"Yes... and no. I felt weird, sure, but we all did. The good thing is that, even though it was chaotic at first, over time it started to feel like a strange kind of family. It still does sometimes. And I guess it feels kind of nice to have been one of the first chosen for this crazy tournament."
Isabelle smiled warmly at his words as she finished writing her notes.
"Thank you, Donkey. Your memories add a really valuable perspective on that time."
"Anytime, pup," DK replied with a laid-back grin. "And if you ever make a book about this, put me on the cover, yeah?"
"I’ll consider it," she said with a giggle before waving goodbye. "Off to the next one!"
Isabelle went to look for Young Link. Why? Because he had been the first Link to appear in Smash—only he was an adult at the time. The adult Link in this tournament was different, so she couldn’t interview him, since this tournament marked his first appearance, but technically the third for Young Link.
"The first tournament was strange," said Young Link while carving splinters off his wooden shield. "I was on my way to Hyrule Castle when I got that weird letter. When I touched the seal, I suddenly found myself here, surrounded by strange creatures, people just as confused as I was... and a very large monkey. I mean Donkey Kong."
Isabelle nodded enthusiastically, as if every word from the young hero were a new archaeological discovery.
"And how did you feel when you saw that... well, you weren’t the only 'hero' there?"
Young Link paused for a moment, scratching his neck with the hilt of his sword.
"I felt... small. Not in size—I was an adult back then—but... everyone else was intimidating. Samus didn’t talk, Fox looked like he knew exactly what he was doing, and Mario had this natural charisma that made everyone look to him like a leader. I just had a magic sword and a loud fairy who, thankfully, wasn’t invited."
Isabelle burst into laughter. "Navi wasn’t invited to the tournament?"
"Thank the Goddesses, no!" Young Link replied with a mix of relief and mischief. "Though I think Kirby might’ve tried to eat her if she had been."
Isabelle laughed harder, scribbling eagerly. "And were you able to fight well against opponents who weren’t wild monsters lurking around a kingdom?"
"I could hold my own, sure, but this was different. In Hyrule you fight monsters with adventure logic—sometimes there’s a weird puzzle that makes them easier to beat. Here, there was a yellow mouse throwing lightning, a pink ball that floated and flew, and a dinosaur hurling eggs with creepy precision. At first I thought it was a dream, or that I’d stumbled into something weird in the forest."
"And what was your first match?" Isabelle asked, now sitting on a small rock across from him, her feet dangling and notebook ready for more notes.
Young Link frowned, recalling. "Against Samus... or well, 'the guy in armor.' It was... brutal. She (though I didn’t know that yet) showed no emotion, moved like she already knew how everything worked. I was just starting to understand that the edges of platforms could launch you into the sky if you weren’t careful. She beat me in two minutes. I don’t think I even used an item properly."
"Did you get frustrated?"
"Yeah, of course. But it also motivated me. I’ve always been stubborn, and that pushed me to train harder. That’s when I started studying everyone’s moves, practicing jumps and counters. It was like... a new kind of dungeon. One where the boss is learning too."
Isabelle looked at him, eyes shining. "That’s... poetic. Would you go through it all again if you had the chance?"
Young Link fell silent for a moment, watching the splinters fall from his shield to the ground. Then he smiled softly, with that wistful expression warriors get when they’ve lived more than they should have.
"Yeah... I’d go through it again. Even if I got electrocuted, thrown into the void, or swallowed like a piece of candy. There was something magical about that first time. Like we were all meant to be there, even if none of us knew it."
Isabelle closed her notebook with an almost reverent gentleness.
"Thank you, Link. That was... incredible. I’d love to interview you again sometime to talk about how you’ve grown as a fighter, if that’s okay."
"Anytime," he said, returning to his carving.
Next was Samus, who was calibrating her missile launcher in the training yard. She was in her armor but without the helmet, her ponytail visible as she worked.
"It was a unique experience, no doubt," she said, firing a missile that hit the target directly—but not with the desired power. She immediately began adjusting settings with practiced precision as she spoke. "None of us expected that a ‘special event’ would turn out to be a multiversal combat tournament. But for me, it wasn’t that strange. I face cosmic threats on a regular basis; a tournament with warriors from other worlds doesn’t sound that weird."
"And did it bother you to be surrounded by so many unfamiliar faces?" Isabelle asked, standing at a safe distance as she watched Samus fine-tune her cannon with millimetric precision.
"No, I wouldn’t say it bothered me," Samus replied in a neutral tone, not looking away from her device. "I’m used to operating alone in unexplored environments. This was different, yes, but also familiar: quick assessments, adapting strategies, reading others’ movements... in a way, it was like another mission."
Isabelle scribbled quickly, almost afraid to forget a single word.
"And what did you think when everyone found out you were a woman?"
Samus paused. She looked up and turned to Isabelle, calmly crossing her arms over her chest.
"Some were surprised. Others just went silent. I didn’t care. I’ve never been interested in what people expect to see under the armor. If someone underestimates you because of how you look, that’s their problem. But after the first round of combat, they learned I’m not someone to take lightly."
"That definitely came across in what the others told me," Isabelle said with a smile. "Mario said even Luigi trembled when you looked at him."
Samus raised an eyebrow, unsure if it was meant as a compliment or a joke. "Luigi trembles at a lot of things."
Isabelle chuckled softly. "What did it feel like to fight in that environment for the first time? Was it hard to adapt?"
"The hard part wasn’t the combat," Samus explained, turning to aim at a more distant target. "The hard part was the lack of information. I was surrounded by fighters with completely different styles. Pikachu, for example: small, fast, unusual. Kirby, a living anomaly. It was a tactical challenge, not a physical one."
She fired. This time, the missile was perfect: clean hit, no deviation.
"And your first match?"
"Against Yoshi." Her tone relaxed just a little. "It wasn’t easy. He’s tougher than he looks and has annoyingly accurate aim with his eggs. He got on my nerves a couple of times. But then I realized I needed to use his rhythm against him. That was the true beginning of my Smash approach: being strong isn’t enough, you have to be adaptable."
Isabelle nodded in admiration, clearly impressed. "And did you feel like you belonged there?"
Samus was quiet for a moment. Then she lowered her arm cannon and looked up at the clear sky for a second.
"Not at first. But after a few days, when I started to see how everyone helped each other between matches—how they laughed, argued, or just shared space without needing words... yeah. I felt like I’d found something close to a team. Even if I wouldn’t call it that out loud."
Isabelle gently closed her notebook, her eyes full of respect.
"Thank you, Samus. That was deeper than I expected. I’m sure your words will inspire more than a few."
Samus returned to adjusting her gear, but a faint, almost invisible smile escaped her.
"I don’t do it to inspire. But if it helps... then I’m glad."
"Yoshi!" the dinosaur exclaimed. He was in the mansion’s garden, watering flowers with a pink watering can that looked far too small for him. When he saw Isabelle approaching, he waved enthusiastically. "Yoshi-yosh!"
"Hi there!" Isabelle greeted with a radiant smile, pulling out her notebook as soon as she reached his side. "I’m gathering information about the first Smash tournament, and since you were there from the start, I wanted to ask how you experienced it."
Yoshi tilted his head in thought, then gave a big thumbs-up, as if to say it had been fun.
"Was it fun from the start, or did it take some time to get used to?" Isabelle asked as she noted his response with interest.
Yoshi wobbled his hand side to side, like he was saying "so-so." Then he began gesturing with his arms, mimicking a fight and making sound effects with his mouth: "Wah! Pium! Yoshi-yosh!" Finally, he shrugged and pointed to the ground, as if to say, "I got used to it over time."
Isabelle giggled, doing her best to transcribe the pantomime.
"So... was there anyone who intimidated you at first?"
Yoshi paused to think, then puffed up his cheeks and raised both arms, imitating Donkey Kong. He grunted and pounded his chest a few times. Then he pointed to himself with one finger and made an exaggerated surprised face.
"Oh, I get it! Donkey Kong scared you?"
Yoshi nodded enthusiastically, then used his tongue to snatch a hanging fruit from a nearby tree and swallowed it whole.
"And who was your first match against?"
The dinosaur did a little hop, landed on one leg, and spun in circles while shouting, "Woooosh!" He ended with a heroic pose. Then he pointed toward the mansion with a very serious expression.
Isabelle looked at him, puzzled.
"Kirby?"
Yoshi shook his head.
"Fox?"
He shook it again.
"Samus?"
Yoshi immediately nodded, mimicking her arm cannon with his hand and making explosion gestures.
"Oh! It was against Samus!" Isabelle said, quickly jotting it down. "She told me you gave her a hard time with your eggs. What do you remember about the match?"
Yoshi held up three fingers, then lowered them one by one while pretending to get more and more tired. Then he collapsed dramatically onto the grass, tongue hanging out, as if saying, "She wiped me out."
Isabelle burst out laughing at the performance.
"That sounds like a really intense fight!"
Yoshi nodded proudly, then pointed to his flowers, as if saying, "she destroyed the whole field."
"But you still felt good about being there?"
Yoshi nodded firmly. Then, to Isabelle’s surprise, he pulled out a slightly worn photo from a nearby basket. It showed all twelve original fighters. He was in the center, tongue out and smiling brightly. He showed it to Isabelle with tenderness.
"That’s... adorable," she murmured, moved, as she looked at the photo. "Can I take a picture for the records?"
Yoshi nodded happily, and Isabelle took out her phone to save a digital copy.
"Thank you, Yoshi. Your memories are a wonderful contribution to understanding those early days. I’m sure a lot of people will want to see this!"
Yoshi gave her a sudden hug, wrapping her with his tongue for a moment before letting go with a little giggle.
"Oh, Yoshi!" she said through laughter, wiping her face with a handkerchief. "I’m going to interview the next fighter before you cover me in drool again!"
Yoshi waved goodbye, returning to water his flowers with a calm smile.
Isabelle then headed to Kirby’s room, where he was peacefully sleeping on a cloud of pillows, hugging a plush Maxim Tomato. However, the moment he heard her footsteps, the little one stretched out as if he already knew she was coming to see him.
"Kirby!" Isabelle greeted softly. "Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?"
Kirby yawned and nodded cheerfully with a loud "Poyo!", ready to respond in his usual mix of gestures, sounds, and the occasional improvised word that only those who lived with him could really interpret.
"What do you remember about the first tournament?"
Kirby puffed out his cheeks and began making gestures: first he pointed to the sky, then drew a circle with his hands, and finally mimicked the sound of an explosion.
"You arrived flying? Like a shooting star?"
Kirby nodded enthusiastically.
"And what did you think of the other fighters?"
The little one began a series of impressions: he got serious like Fox, spun around like Pikachu shooting lightning, mimicked Mario hitting invisible blocks, and finally puffed out his cheeks, stood up, and began walking with drooping arms, imitating Donkey Kong.
Isabelle giggled while jotting everything down. "And your first match?"
Kirby blinked, then puffed his cheeks as if remembering something really impressive. He pointed at an invisible figure, swallowed a cookie from the table, and then mimicked using a sword… though with an awkward, exaggerated pose.
"Was it against Link?"
"Poyooo!" Kirby replied affirmatively, spinning in place to emphasize the idea.
"And did you win?"
Kirby puffed out his chest with pride… then deflated and pulled a sad face, crossing his arms. Isabelle understood immediately.
"Oh... you lost?"
Kirby nodded with dramatic sadness, but then did a somersault and raised a finger as if to say, "But I learned something!"
Isabelle smiled tenderly. "That's what matters. Did you enjoy being there?"
Kirby placed his hands over his mouth like he was hugging something invisible and nodded repeatedly.
"Did you feel welcomed?"
The little one puffed up his body like a heart and floated around in circles, making his answer clear.
Isabelle closed her notebook, visibly touched. "You're one of a kind, Kirby. Thanks for sharing."
"Poyo~!" Kirby replied before flopping back down into the pillows, happy and carefree.
"Oh, that first tournament was definitely something special," said Fox, who was in the hangar repairing his Arwing. "I still remember my first match. It was against Donkey Kong, and I thought he was a bit… showy at first. I mean, we’re both animals, but he only wears a tie. Felt kind of out of place… only to realize he’s insanely strong. I was fast in that fight and managed to throw him off, but when he did land a hit, it really hurt."
Fox adjusted a valve on the Arwing’s wing as he spoke, his eyes still focused on the navigation systems. His voice was calm, but carried the kind of precision that came from a life spent analyzing every detail.
"Honestly, I didn’t think adapting would be so hard. I come from a military background. I'm trained to keep my cool, follow orders, complete objectives. But… this was different. There was no clear chain of command. Just a bunch of strong personalities throwing themselves at each other for reasons we didn’t always understand."
Isabelle nodded while scribbling quick notes, fascinated by how each account revealed such a unique perspective.
"Was it hard to accept that lack of structure?"
"Yeah," Fox answered without hesitation. "At first, it irritated me. No one followed protocols. There were rules, sure, but they were flexible—almost arbitrary. It took me a while to realize that was the point. It wasn’t a war… it was a game, a competition, and at the same time, a place where… we could let our guard down. A little."
He paused, then sighed. "I think it was good for me. It pulled me out of my comfort zone."
"Did you eventually feel like part of the group?"
Fox hesitated for a second, then nodded.
"Yeah. Falco would say I went soft, but… even he ended up getting attached to a few people when he joined the next tournament. This place has a damn habit of becoming home—whether you want it to or not."
Isabelle smiled as she heard that. "Any special memory from those early days?"
Fox stopped, setting down the tool he was holding. For a moment, his expression softened.
"Yeah. Kirby gave me an apple one day after I came back from a fight with my fur singed. He didn’t say anything, just left it on the wing of the Arwing while I was inside cursing at everything. It was a simple gesture… but it made me realize that despite all our differences, we were all looking for the same thing: a place to belong."
Isabelle closed her notebook gently.
"Thank you, Fox. You’ve been really honest. I’m sure a lot of people will relate to what you said."
Fox nodded again before returning to his work, a bit more relaxed now.
"Just don’t put the apple story in the archive. I’ve got a reputation to protect."
Isabelle laughed as she walked away.
"Too late, I marked it with little stars."
"Pika!" Pikachu greeted cheerfully, sitting on the edge of his bed in his room.
"Oooh... this is gonna be tricky, I don’t speak Pokémon..." Isabelle muttered to herself in concern.
Pikachu tilted his head, still smiling. Just then, Mewtwo floated by but stopped when he saw Isabelle and Pikachu in the room.
"What’s going on here?" the Pokémon asked telepathically, without moving his mouth.
"Oh, hi Mewtwo," Isabelle greeted. "Not much. I just want to ask Pikachu about his experience in the first Smash tournament, but... I don’t speak Pokémon..."
"Hmm... Perhaps I can help by translating what he says," the Psychic Pokémon replied, crossing his arms.
"Really? That would be amazing!" Isabelle exclaimed with a mix of relief and excitement.
Pikachu bounced a couple of times, thrilled by the idea, and climbed onto a pillow like he was preparing for a formal interview. Mewtwo, still floating with arms crossed, gave a slight nod.
"Alright, let’s begin," said Isabelle, pulling out her notebook again. "Pikachu, what do you remember about the first tournament?"
Pikachu placed a paw on his cheek thoughtfully, then gave a cheerful "Pika pika!" with a faint spark from his cheeks.
"He says that at first he was excited, but also a little nervous," Mewtwo translated precisely. "He didn’t quite understand why he was brought there, but he felt that something important was about to begin."
"And your first match? Who was it against?" Isabelle asked as Pikachu began taking small sidesteps, as if preparing to dodge.
"It was against Mario," Mewtwo replied, without Pikachu needing to say more than a "Pi-kaaaa!" while mimicking a punch and then an electric flip. "Mario was fast, but Pikachu was faster. Even so, it wasn’t an easy win."
"You won?" Isabelle asked, surprised.
Pikachu puffed out his chest proudly and released a small spark into the air.
"He did. But he says he apologized afterward because he accidentally left Mario’s mustache frizzed up," Mewtwo said, completely expressionless.
Isabelle couldn’t help but laugh. "Did you get along with the others right from the start?"
Pikachu nodded immediately. Then he pointed to his bed, where several plushies were lined up: a Mario, a Kirby, a chibi Samus… even a Donkey Kong one that looked a little more chewed than the rest.
"He says that even if he couldn’t understand everyone through words, he understood them through actions," Mewtwo translated. "That they communicate more in battle than they realize. That he learned to trust them by fighting beside them… and against them."
Isabelle wrote attentively, completely captivated. "Did you feel like part of the group?"
Pikachu flopped onto his back, rolled around a few times, then hugged himself as if melting into everyone.
"He says he had never had so many different friends… and that each one taught him something. That even the grumpiest ones"—here he glanced sideways at Mewtwo—"ended up accepting him."
Mewtwo grunted softly, but didn’t deny it.
"Well, that tells me everything I need to know," Isabelle said, finishing her notes. "Thank you, Pikachu! And thank you for translating, Mewtwo."
With that, Isabelle left, leaving Pikachu and Mewtwo alone.
"You could have skipped that last comment," Mewtwo said to Pikachu, eyes closed.
"Pika~"
"Oh, it was terrifying at first," said Luigi, who was in the kitchen. "Mario and I got identical letters, and we didn’t know if this special event was a trap. We were surprised to arrive here and see so many different people. But it was a good thing too. Getting out of my comfort zone didn’t turn out so bad... though Samus still intimidates me, with or without the armor."
Isabelle took a seat across the table while Luigi stirred a pot that smelled like mushroom soup. His green apron had a stitched logo that read “Chef Luigi” with a small drawing of a smiling star.
"And how was your first match?" she asked, opening her notebook.
Luigi sighed, a mix of nostalgia and embarrassment in his voice.
"It was against Fox. And... well, let’s just say I learned a lot about how important it is to stay calm when someone’s shooting lasers at you," he said, waving the ladle with emphasis.
"Did you lose?" Isabelle asked kindly.
"I lost... the first round, the second, and, well... all of them," he admitted with a shy giggle. "But that taught me not to rely on my last name. Here, nobody respects you for your name. You have to earn it in battle."
Isabelle took notes, clearly impressed. "And was it hard to fit in with the group?"
"Mamma mia, yes!" exclaimed Luigi. "There were so many tough guys... Donkey Kong, Samus, Captain Falcon... even Kirby was scary sometimes! But little by little, I began to see that we all had our quirks. Pikachu taught me to laugh at my mistakes, Ness helped me train my focus, and Jigglypuff... well, she put me to sleep like eight times, but that’s another story."
"And did you feel accepted?"
Luigi smiled warmly. "Yeah. Not right away, but yes. I realized I didn’t have to be like Mario to be here. I just had to be me. Luigi. The guy who trips sometimes, but always gets back up."
Isabelle closed her notebook, touched. "That’s beautiful, Luigi."
"Oh, I didn’t feel anything weird when I saw the others," said Ness, sitting on a bench in the mansion’s garden. "I was just surprised to find out Samus was a woman, but other than that... I’ve seen weirder things. So much that Kirby and Pikachu seemed like the most normal ones."
"And you weren’t scared to see Donkey Kong or Fox talk?" Isabelle asked, sitting beside him.
"Nope. Like I said, I’m used to weird stuff. My world has zombies, aliens, clowns with flaming heads... So seeing a giant monkey doing yoga in the morning wasn’t that shocking," Ness added with a shrug.
Isabelle chuckled softly and continued her interview. "Do you remember your first fight?"
"Yeah, it was against Link," said Ness, swinging his legs casually. "I thought I had it under control, until he pulled out a bomb and blasted me to the other side of the stage. I learned quickly that psychic powers aren’t enough here... you also need to know when to run."
"And you lost?"
"Yeah. But only that time," he said with a mischievous smile. "In the rematch, I surprised him with a PSI Flash from above. He didn’t see it coming."
Isabelle took notes as Ness crossed his arms, satisfied.
"Was it hard to adjust to the group?"
"Nah. I adapted quickly. I guess it’s because I’m a kid and don’t have as many preconceived ideas. I just wanted to play and meet everyone. Although Samus did scare me a little... at first."
"And now?"
"She still intimidates me, but I’ve learned to deal with it."
Isabelle let out a small laugh. "Did you feel like part of the Smash family from the beginning?"
Ness thought for a moment, gazing up at the clear sky.
"I think so. I’ve always been someone who improvises, and this place kind of feels like that: a weird mix that shouldn’t work, but it does. And all of us, even though we’re different, have something in common: we love to fight, but we also take care of each other. Like a weird family."
Isabelle closed her notebook again, clearly moved. "Thank you, Ness. You’re very wise for your age."
"I know," he said with a wink.
"I remember it like it was yesterday," said Captain Falcon, running on a treadmill in the mansion’s gym. "It was really strange to face opponents with my own fists instead of on a racetrack. Honestly, I don’t even know how I got in. Most of my fighting moves I learned right here."
"You’d never fought before?" Isabelle asked, trying to keep up while taking notes from a nearby bench.
"Not at the Smash level," Falcon replied, speeding up the treadmill with a determined gesture. "I was a pilot, you know? My thing was high-speed racing, not flying punches. But when I had to face Samus in my first match... well, let’s just say I learned the hard way how to dodge missiles and plasma beams."
"You lost?"
Captain Falcon stopped, wiping his sweat with a towel as he let out a deep laugh.
"Of course! She sent me flying like a feather. But I didn’t give up. I hit the gym every day. Learned how to channel my energy differently. That’s how the Falcon Punch was born. It didn’t happen overnight... but that day, I understood that if I wanted a place here, I had to evolve."
Isabelle wrote quickly, clearly fascinated. "Did you feel out of place in the group?"
"At first, yeah. I felt like the guy without powers surrounded by gods, mythical beasts, and legendary warriors," Falcon admitted as he stretched his neck. "But then someone told me something I never forgot."
"Who?"
"Samus," he said, his tone softer. "She saw me training alone one night and said: 'You don’t have to be like them. Just make sure you’re the best version of yourself.' Since then, I stopped comparing myself and started competing with myself."
Isabelle looked up, surprised. "Samus told you that... and you listened, even after she beat you?"
"Of course. You don’t ignore advice from someone just because they kicked your butt," Falcon replied with a half-smile.
"And now? Do you feel like part of the family?"
Falcon nodded with almost solemn firmness.
"Yeah. Here I found something even racing didn’t give me: a purpose beyond competition. We fight, sure, but we also learn, grow, laugh... And when someone new shows up, I’m no longer the guy who feels out of place. I’m the one who says, 'Relax, we all started the same way.'"
Isabelle closed her notebook, inspired. "You’re deeper than you look, Captain."
"And faster too," he added with a wink before resuming his run.
Finally, it was time to interview Jigglypuff, the last veteran of the first Smash tournament, who was among the flowers in the garden, singing to herself. Isabelle approached with Mewtwo, so he could translate for her.
"Jigglypuff," she said with a solemn smile.
"She says it was strange arriving with Pikachu to a place full of strangers, but she decided to go with the flow," Mewtwo translated.
Jigglypuff slowly spun among the flowers, as if dancing with the wind, still humming a sweet melody. Isabelle watched her, completely enchanted.
"Weren’t you scared of your first match?" Isabelle asked as she opened her notebook once more.
Jigglypuff made a little bow, then puffed up her cheeks and gave a couple of emphatic hops.
"She says she didn’t understand the rules... but that never stopped her," Mewtwo interpreted in a neutral tone. "She used her singing without knowing if it would work. Apparently, it worked a little too well."
Jigglypuff let out a melodic giggle, then drew a small sleepy face in the dirt with a stick.
"Who was her first match against?" asked Isabelle.
"Kirby," Mewtwo replied. "She says it was like fighting a mirror—just rounder, and less in tune."
Jigglypuff puffed out her chest with dignity, as if she were still debating who was the better singer.
"And did she lose?"
"It was a tie," Mewtwo clarified. "She says they both fell asleep at the same time."
Isabelle chuckled warmly. "Was it hard to make friends?"
Jigglypuff shook her head, then pointed to her heart and extended her arms toward the sky.
"She says she sings to connect with others, even if it doesn’t always go as planned," Mewtwo translated. "That some people got mad about falling asleep, but in time they learned to see beyond her song. She even found secret admirers."
"Admirers?" Isabelle asked, intrigued.
Jigglypuff nodded mischievously, then spun around playfully and blew a kiss into the air.
"She says she’ll never name names," Mewtwo added, looking a little uncomfortable.
"And did you feel like part of the group from the beginning?"
Jigglypuff made a slow gesture, drawing a circle with her short arms.
"She says it was like finding the perfect stage," Mewtwo explained. "That everyone was different, but each one had their own melody. And that Smash was like a great song... where in the end, everyone learned to sing together."
Isabelle smiled, closing her notebook for the last time that day.
"Thank you so much, Jigglypuff. That was a very sweet interview."
Jigglypuff gave a small bow and settled among the flowers again, humming a soft melody that floated through the air like a gentle caress.
Now that she had interviewed all twelve veterans of the tournament, Isabelle returned to her room to write down her conclusions in each of their files.
She sat at her desk, accompanied only by the soft ticking of the clock and the distant whisper of the wind through the trees surrounding Smash Mansion. She opened her digital file, took a deep breath, and began to write.
Hours passed as she documented everything the veterans had told her, and when she finally finished, she saved the document, looked out the window, and sighed with a smile.
"What a strange... but beautiful family," she murmured.
In the distance, she heard Mario laughing with Donkey Kong, Samus training with Captain Falcon, and Ness shouting "PSI Fire!" down the hallway. Pikachu ran past her window, followed by Kirby twirling in the air.
Isabelle closed her notebook and gazed up at the ceiling, happy to be part of this strange, chaotic... and wonderfully lively world.
End of Chapter 59.