So there is a hypothesis that Peach's Vibes from Super Princess Peach is rooted in Japanese culture.
So I'm going to give credit to one Gaijin Goombah because I got this hypothesis from an old video they made which no longer exists, but I remember what it was about.
On top of that I believe that this hypothesis is likely to be correct on the possible real life inspiration behind Peach's Vibes, as opposed to that annoying joke people always make in regards to this game.
So the hypothesis suggests that Peach's vibes are based on mitama which can refer to spirit of a kami.
From here one can connect the saki mitama to the Joy Heart, the ara mitama to the Rage Heart, the nigi mitama to the Gloom Heart, and the kushi mitama to the Calm heart.
That not just their colors are the same but the way the mitama acts as is similar to the Peach's Vibes as well.
That was the first thought he had when he ventured on the pathway to Sword Taker. He had realised how powerful his Nasod arm was when he used it in battle. Its ability to create explosions and raging fires was amazing in one aspect, but terrifying on another. Using it in day to day life was troublesome. Opening door knobs with his Nasod arm meant ripping the door knob loose, or using a fork to eat meant bending the metal itself. Although the changes were more apparent in battle, he knew he couldn’t rely on his Nasod arm solely or else the pent up rage within him would go berserk.
With this in mind, he relied on discipline and his old swordsmanship to take down his enemies instead. On the other hand, his alternate self lived up to his title of being reckless and rageous. Blade has seen him lose himself multiple times and tried to control his fury with Nasodic machinery, but in the end, understood that running away from his fate was making his anger grow. It was admirable to see someone so unstable reach enlightening peaks of mind and body. The raven-haired man had become powerful with blooming white spreading on his formerly black hair. Admirable, yes, praiseworthy, yes, but…
What about himself? What about his own state of mind? Instead of working on his Nasod arm, he focused on his human counterpart and with each disuse came a shuddering coldness. It came to haunt him every single moment of his life and he wore the white coat to make sure he didn’t freeze to death. His coat was never enough to keep him warm and he shivered alone when no one was looking. Why didn’t it get easier as time went by? He believed he would somehow grow accustomed to the coldness devouring him, but it never got easier. Just as pain and sadness didn’t get easier.
He quivered once more, sighing into the hot air of summer. Training had always been a part of him and he trained every single day. Even when he had reached his limits, he still improved and had become strong in his ways. That was why, now, he was practicing his swordsmanship in the crackling grass. Powerful strikes of the sword blossomed through the falling wind, becoming blue in the fading light of today. The sun appeared merciless amongst the occasional clouds, slowly retreating to the edges of the world. He didn’t seem to notice someone watching him when he stopped to take a break. Not even when he entered the shelter to drink from a bottle. It was definitely cooler underneath the ceiling and inside the inn, there were open windows to let the wind in. Despite the summer heat curdling outside, he pulled down each windows in order and gazed at the empty fireplace. With a crack and a snap, he lit the logs and turned embers into a blaze. He didn’t feel the warmth from afar. It was long gone when he ventured on this pathway. His Nasod arm appeared chilled and quiet, the mechanics working per normal.
He placed the bottle down and went to sit near the fire, in useless hopes that it would make him feel somewhat better. Of course it didn’t. The coldness ate into his bones and he looked around to make sure no one was present. No one, for now. Blade shivered in the raw bitterness his arm projected and it was hard to stop. He would allow himself to be vulnerable for now. He couldn’t show this to the Elgang, not to the people who depended on him. There was no escaping his fate and all he wished for was an end to his purpose, an end to the road he long walked on. It was lonely doing it alone, but such was the fate of a wolf’s vow. With a pack of wolves--no, people he needed to protect--, he would make sure they would come to no harm.
The presence from before gazed at him with golden, burning eyes and was closing on in at a slow rate. Clink went his arm as it lowered from its previous position, crossed arms. Maybe it was due to Blade shivering in front of the fire, but he didn’t sense anyone coming towards him. Only when the ringing sound of metallic armor clattered did he realize that someone had been watching him. A sense of dread sliced through him, causing him to jerk his head behind him to see who it was. The same searing eyes he knew so well were staring down at him with a flat-lined mouth and a straight scar, lining the right side. Since when did he…? It had probably been a while and yet Blade was unable to notice such a strong presence. Was he growing dull? Or was it his moment of vulnerability that allowed the man to come close? Either way, he knew this was something he didn’t want to have happened. The last thing he wanted was those eyes to lay on him. Through trained restraint, he quietened down his shivering and slowly stood up to meet the other’s height. The dread shaking away within his chest would not disappear, but he gulped it down as if it was a lump of poison.
The flames that burned behind Blade were growing hungry before giving way to a familiar winter. His shoes sunk into the snow with each crunch, crack, crunch on the path he chose. If there was one thing he hadn’t expected to happen, it was the soul crushing regret that he felt eating away inside of him. Blade knew that his own Nasod arm was dangerous--risky to behold and malevolent in nature. Was it the fear that he couldn’t control it? Or was it the arrogance in who he originally was? Unaccepting of the fate he had been dealt with, he decided it was best for him to go down the path of humanity. He had a pack to protect, comrades to fight alongside with, this wasn’t the time to err on which side he was on. On the other hand, his other self had decided differently. A path of reckless abandon, tearing apart those who would stand in his way. A man who blurred the lines between his human self and his artificial self. It became a matter of having the power to destroy the enemy, even at the cost of his own human status. Blade detested that ideal, that indomitable rage that would one day swallow everything. On that winter day, they had separated from one another. Ideals that clashed together for far too long that they were no longer compatible. Blade wanted to forget it, wanted to rest, but there was that one question that prevented him from forgetting.
“Answer me this, Blade, if you really hate me that much, then why do you run?”
The answer should’ve been obvious. He detested that ideal. Was that not enough? He did not want to associate himself with it. If these reasons weren’t enough, then surely the real answer was somewhere in front of him.
The answer was in front of him. He stood there, an ideal he contempted, yet a name so familiar to his former ideals. They both knew what they used to be: a distant item. Blade refused to feel guilt for what he chose to walk down on, but why did he feel hesitation when he looked up into those eyes? He couldn’t read them, couldn’t understand or fathom why this man was here after all these months.
“Rex, what are you doing here?”
“I was visiting the other members of the Elgang,” answered Rex.
He wasn’t exactly alone in his area since Elesis and Elsword were nearby, but far enough not to go visit Blade regularly. Blade wasn’t sure what to think of this answer. Why visit him now of all days? Back then, he had wounded Rex to the point that he couldn’t move and left by himself. He had abandoned him, left him, threw him aside, and yet Rex was still here just to visit? Was it mockery? He defeated Rex and despite all those wounds, Rex was able to recover and come back just as strong. Was it to mock him? And to add further salt to the wound, Rex had seen Blade at his vulnerable moment--the last thing he wanted anyone to ever see of him. Ready to retort, ready to fight back, Blade was ready to do anything to defend his choices and who he was.
“Why didn’t you tell the Elgang about this?” It was Rex’s turn to question.
“About what? It’s nothing important.”
“It is. It’s a sweltering summer, yet you’re inside with the fireplace blazing and still cold.”
“That’s none of your business. You can’t just waltz into someone else’s home-”
“It was our home, Blade.” His name, in a voice tinted in concern and emotion. This was unfair. He didn’t wake up to today just to have his ex appear out of nowhere and say his name in that one voice. Those same eyes that burned and blazed were dowsing, staring at him with empathy. A gentle flame that didn’t burn or scorch him with anger, but attempted to elicit words, emotions, feelings that Blade became numb to.
“It’s not anymore. Now, leave.”
He attempted to turn his back on Rex, but that was one mistake he didn’t realise the consequences of. A strong grip wrapped around his Nasod arm and prevented him from fully turning his back and pulled him into something warm. His eyes widened at the quick action without given time to fully react. His guard had been lowered at his own vulnerability and used against him.
At the instant of warmth, his body had tensed before each muscle in him relaxed and shivered at the same time. Warmth spread through him without warning and for a few seconds, he couldn’t think.
“You’re so cold…” murmured Rex. “Goddamnit, Blade, why do you have to do things alone?”
Blade didn’t say anything in response, but he wanted to. His mouth opened to say something to answer Rex’s question with his mind fumbling over excuses and words. However, he knew that none of them would be good enough to placate him and make things better. That was, if Rex was angry at all. His mouth closed once more, not knowing what to say to Rex. Every inch of his shivering body wanted one thing as he almost crumbled completely, both mentally and emotionally. Why was Rex’s body so damn warm? Not even a crackling fire was enough to warm him up, but being close to someone’s body heat was like a cure. As if he had been sick from relentless coldness, and Rex had became the cure, the anti-virus.
“I don’t blame you for what happened back then,” said Rex. “You’ve had your own reasons and I...figured it might’ve been because I readily accepted my Nasod counterpart. I once did worry that this rage I had inside of me would hurt those close to me, but I learned to accept it and the rage ceased.”
Did he hear that right? Why wasn’t he blamed for such a traitorous attack as harming his comrade? No one appeared to step in on the fight, as if they knew what it was for. Rex had explicitly told them not to intervene, too. Did he know? Did Rex know? There was a large amount of guilt to be had, even before realizing this. Harming his ex-lover like this and to be forgiven like this, he didn’t think this would ever happen. Blade tried to say something again, but the body heat was almost comforting him. Flames that licked at him without burning him, or causing any harm, sheltered him and allowed him to be vulnerable. There was no judgement. Even Blade himself knew that one could not be strong forever. Being vulnerable to others he trusted was not weakness, but it was also a way to become stronger yet. To be supported and to be accepted--how did he throw all of this away? Blade had vehemently discarded part of himself and even now, he didn’t want to accept such a fact.
“You’re right…” started Blade. “I couldn’t accept what is a part of me because I didn’t want to lose control over it, but...seeing you confront it so readily…? It made me feel embarrassed, like I wasn’t able to do the same thing and ran away from it. I didn’t want to see that, either, and so in order to keep averting my eyes...I casted you away.”
He wanted to know.
“How haven’t you gotten angry at me? I did something terrible and I know it was wrong…”
Rage looked into Blade’s own eyes, which were almost like amber with a frozen centre. Something had long changed in them and he was sure it wouldn’t be easy to revert. That didn’t mean Rage wouldn’t try if he could. He exhaled slightly and lifted his right hand to the side of Blade’s face to caress it.
“Angry? I couldn’t get angry at you even if I tried.”
A warm explosion of emotions reenacted themselves. He hadn’t felt like this in a long time and goddamn, it was welcome. It wasn’t a surprise when Rage closed the distance with a heartfelt kiss. Maybe kisses were overrated, but it wasn’t just about the contact. It was the meaning behind it, the long trailing down history behind the act wrapped up sincerely in this one moment. The detached string between them mended itself and turned into a loving embrace.Pulling from each other a little, a small distance of intimacy and understanding slide in between them. From here, it was like his thoughts thawed into feelings he revisited and experienced. In the comfortable confines of this singular moment, he knew what Rage was going to say next. And of course, how could he ever let it slip?
