Archive of Our Own

“We could just stay home today,” said Mario as he packed a few things into his bag.

Luigi stuffed a few packs of tissues into his own bag, checked the contents one last time, and then turned to Mario. “It’s just a little cold. I don’t even have a fever. So don’t worry.”

“I’m always worried about you,” said Mario with an apologetic smile. “Are you sure you’re okay? You get overwhelmed by stimuli more easily when you’re sick and then—”

Luigi cut him off by placing a hand on his shoulder. “Mario, it’s all good. We’ve talked about this. I’ll let you know if something’s wrong. But you know, I have a hard time predicting my panic attacks. I don’t think I’ll have one today, though. I’m fine, apart from this little cold.” Luigi sniffed as he remembered his stuffy nose. He grabbed a tissue from a nearby box, turned away from Mario, and blew his nose into it.

“And you still want to go see Bowser?”

“Mario,” Luigi said meaningfully. His voice sounded muffled through the tissue.

“Listen, I don’t mind. After I was forced to spend a few hours with him and we had our long talk, I understand why you like spending time with him. But I’ll be honest: I don’t like him. He makes awful mushroom jokes.”

“And you tortured him when he was feeling down.”

Mario pressed his lips together and let out a long sigh that ruffled his curls at the sides. “I can’t believe he told you that.”

“Just like you told me he makes mushroom jokes to get under your skin.” Luigi crumpled the tissue in his hands and tossed it into a trash can. “I know you like him. Maybe even more than Peach. And that’s okay. You’re allowed to like your former enemy.”

A shudder ran through Mario’s entire body. “Ew. No way. Besides, I’m straight.”

Luigi tilted his head and raised his eyebrows. “Why do you immediately think of something sexual?”

Mario blushed and looked away, grumbling. “I thought that’s what it was about. You know I have a hard time figuring stuff like that out.”

Luigi smiled. That was true, but he still believed there was more to it. Ever since he’d taken care of Bowser, who’d suffered a serious injury, Mario had been different. He was acting more carefree and a bit goofy, as if his head were filled with happy fantasies. But Luigi didn’t plan on teasing him about it any further. He was probably reading too much into the whole thing anyways. “You don’t necessarily have to be friends. I mean, I’m not really friends with Peach either.”

“But you like her.”

Luigi pressed his lips together. Mario raised an eyebrow questioningly. “You got a problem with her, Lu?”

Luigi gave a vague shake of his head. “Well, to be honest, I think we’re not matching. When you’re not around, things usually get a little weird between us. I mean, when we were looking for the cure for Bowser, we were able to talk, but it was super awkward. I think she can’t handle the fact that I’m getting along so well with Bowser, which is understandable, given everything that’s happened between the two of them. But at the same time, it’s none of her business who I spend my time with.”  

“That’s true, but it’s difficult. You’re hanging out with someone who not only assaulted a princess but also planned to destroy the entire Mushroom Kingdom and even our world. He wanted to kill you.”

“And he’s sorry,” said Luigi. “Everyone makes mistakes. Some make really big mistakes, and some of them are unforgivable. I’m not denying that. I just think that we, who are privileged, should forgive.”

Mario rolled his eyes. “I have no idea what you mean by that.”

“You don’t have to like my friends, Mario,” Luigi said instead of explaining. “You didn’t like Spike back then either, but look, now you’re even working together.”

“Spike wasn’t planning to kill our family. Bowser was—” Mario stopped himself, probably realizing their discussion was going in circles. “Forget it. If we keep dawdling like this, we’ll be late. So, let’s-a-go.” He turned toward the door and paused. “Wait, I feel like I’ve forgotten something.”

Luigi spotted Mario’s cell phone on the table, picked it up, and handed it to him. Mario grinned sheepishly. “Without you, I’d lose my cap, Lu.”

Luigi smiled and followed Mario out of the house after they’d made double-sure Mario really had everything. The walk to the castle wasn’t particularly long or short, it was just the right length to enjoy the evening atmosphere. The horizon above the mushroom houses was turning deep violet, with streaks of fiery red breaking through. And then it gradually turned midnight blue.

Soon, autumn would become winter. It didn’t snow in the Mushroom Kingdom, Peach had told them, but the temperatures were already dropping. They wore thick, lined jackets in their respective colors, red and green, which protected them from the chilly winds. Only a few Toads were out on the streets at this late hour, and these few were wrapped in warm furs. Some greeted them, but most ignored them.

It had now been about six months since Mario and Peach had saved the two worlds. Luigi had only played a small part in it, even though at first everyone had tried to convince him otherwise. Eventually, they’d realized that he simply didn’t want to be the center of attention. And they’d also learned that Mario didn’t necessarily need that much attention. To the Toads, Princess Peach was the heroine, and Mario was just some human who’d happened to be passing by and helped out when he saw people being in trouble.

“How did they already forgot who saved them? We’re even still fixing problems for them,” Mario muttered to himself. But Luigi knew him well enough to realize that Mario preferred playing the hero rather than actually being one. Mario was proud of his life as a plumber, just as proud as Luigi was to be his brother.

So, Luigi kept smiling to himself and looked around. Even though they’d been here for so long now and even though they’d felt at home from the moment they first stepped onto the paved boulevard, the whole world still felt new and exciting. As if further mysteries and adventures were waiting for them behind every pipe, behind every block, and behind every colorfully painted storefront.

They had found the world where they belonged, and now they were shaping that world further.

The castle came into view. It towered to impressive heights and stood out against the dark sky as a glow of pink and white. At the gates, two guards—a blue and a yellow Toad, with whom they were now quite familiar—welcomed them.

“Ah, meeting the princess again, Mario?” asked the yellow Toad. He exchanged a quick glance with the other Toad. “Well, I heard the princess is—”

“Yeah, yeah,” Mario interrupted him. “In another castle. I’ve heard that joke a million times now. I don’t even know what it’s supposed to mean. So, where’s the princess?”

The blue Toad pointed around the corner. “In the castle garden.”

“All right.” Mario turned to Luigi. “I’ll come pick you up later, okay?”

“Mario, I can find the exit myself. I’m more worried you’ll go through the wrong door and wake up poor Toadsworth.”

Mario grimaced as he remembered something. “He sleeps naked. I never want to see that again. All right. We’ll meet at the exit. See you later, Lu.”

Mario waved and then took the shortcut to the castle garden. The two Toads looked at each other and giggled to themselves.

“She’s not in the castle garden, is she?” guessed Luigi, who had seen through their game from the start.

“He’s just too cute when he gets angry, says Peach. She’s watching him from above and will rush to his aid as soon as he gets desperate.”

“You guys are really mean,” Luigi said, not really meaning it. He would have liked to be there to see how it would go, but he had a mission of his own.

“Shall I take you to Bowser?” the yellow Toad offered. He occasionally took over guard duty for Bowser and was part of their book club.

Luigi nodded and followed him inside the castle.

“He’s been pretty quiet today,” Toad said suddenly. “Either he’s too absorbed in his paintings again or he’s deliberately ignoring us. He hasn’t eaten anything. Maybe you can get him to touch his salad.”

Luigi nodded.

Toad looked up at him. “You’re very quiet today, too. Are you okay?”

Luigi sniffed. “Got a bit of a cold.”

“Ah, yeah, that seems to be going around right now. I’ve got a bit of a runny nose, too. That’s the beginning of winter for you.”

“But other than that, everything’s fine. I was just wondering if Peach will be able to handle Mario’s tantrum.”

“If not, we’re still here to give Mario a good poke in the butt.” The Toad raised his spear and then laughed to show he was joking. Luigi laughed too. They reached the room where Bowser’s miniature castle was located, and Luigi said goodbye to his little yellow friend.

When Luigi pushed open the heavy iron doors, the first thing he noticed was that it was dark. Not the room—the peach-blossom-shaped lamps were always lit—but Bowser’s castle. Its lights were off. It lay in the violet shadows thrown by the columns and the sparse furnishings in the room. Luigi wondered if he had arrived too late; if Bowser had already gone to sleep. Maybe he should—

“Is that you, Luigi?” came a sleepy voice from inside the castle. He imagined Mini-Bowser rubbing his eyes and heading up the stairs to the balcony. “I’m coming. And don’t nod, I can’t see that.”

Luigi smiled. Bowser knew him too well, but sometimes he misjudged him. “I’m here,” Luigi replied. He set his things down and walked over to the miniature castle. At that very moment, its balcony doors opened and Bowser stepped out. His fiery red mane was a mess, but the rest of him looked great, especially the grin on his face.

“Hey, good to see you, Lu–” Bowser’s tongue danced in his mouth. “—igi. If I call you Lu, Mario will kill me. Gi! From now on, I’m calling you Gi! I’m a genius, right?”

Luigi laughed behind his hand. “The most brilliant, Bi.”

Bowser roared with laughter. Then he said, “I’ve got some drawings I need to show you. Wait a sec!” Bowser went back inside his castle.

“Want to hear my opinion on them? And what happened to your voice?”

“Sure,” Bowser replied. “And yeah, I’m a bit hoarse. Sang too much. That’s why I probably can’t present you with my new song today, even though I’m working hard on it.”

A short time later, Bowser stepped back out onto the balcony with a painted canvas under his arm. “The others are still drying, but this one is also a little masterpiece. What do you think of it?”

Luigi scrutinized the painting Bowser held out to him for quite a while, adopting a critical, pensive pose. As neutrally as possible, he said, “You should burn it.”

“Huh?”

The corners of Luigi’s mouth twitched into a telltale grin. “If Mario sees that you drew him as a mushroom, neither of us will survive. Just imagine the look on his face—it’d be so funny we’d die laughing.” Luigi couldn’t hold it back any longer; he burst out laughing so loudly that he pressed his hand over his mouth to muffle it. Bowser joined in the laughter as well.

When things quieted down, Luigi heard a roar in the distance that sounded familiar. “Oh no, Mario found out what they did to him,” he said, without sounding particularly worried.

“Are the Toads and the Princess playing tricks on him again?” Bowser said, less than enthusiastic, but then the corners of his mouth turned up into a half-smile. “It’s probably good exposure therapy for his aggression issues.”

“I think that’s their plan. By the way, I brought my Switch.”

They ignored Mario, who was still ranting outside, and Luigi walked over to his bag. He bent down, feeling snot run from his nose. He pulled out the bag with his Switch, sat down with his game console in front of Bowser’s castle, and wiped his nose with his sleeve. “Just a heads-up, I’ve got a bit of a cold.”

Bowser shifted from one foot to the other. A behavior he displayed either when he was getting impatient or was about to make a confession. “I have a little cold as well,” he finally said. “It’s going around. Probably someone came to our book club sick and gave it to both of us.”

“Toad has a cold too.”

“That confirms my theory.” Bowser stepped up to the parapet and placed a foot on the stone wall. “But I’m fine. No reason to cancel our meeting as long as you’re feeling okay too.”

“Yeah,” Luigi confirmed before lunging forward and catching Bowser as he swung over the wall. “You really shouldn’t—”

“Hey! I can climb down these walls. No problem.” Bowser crossed his arms and looked up at him seriously.

Luigi looked away guiltily and didn’t know what to do for a moment. “I’m sorry. I just didn’t want you to get hurt again. But I shouldn’t have—”

He felt Bowser’s clawed hands on his knuckles and only then realized he was clenching them. “It’s okay,” Bowser said. “I just don’t like it when anyone helps me without asking first, especially when I don’t need help. But I also know that you don’t see me as a pitiful creature. You’ve probably had the experience yourself of people interfering with your independence because they thought you were limited.”

Luigi nodded. “But that’s exactly why I should have—”

“But,” Bowser said emphatically. “Just because you’ve been through it yourself and know how awful it is doesn’t mean you have to be the understanding one. You’re allowed to make mistakes. I make them too. We all do. It’s just important that we talk about them instead of pretending they don’t exist. We all have different needs and can only understand each other if we express them. At least, that’s my opinion.”

Luigi nodded more resolutely. He agreed with Bowser’s way of thinking, and it gave him courage. “Should I set you down?”

“I’d appreciate that,” said Bowser with an exaggerated hand gesture.

Luigi set him down on the ground in front of him. Bowser stretched thoroughly until his bones cracked, grimaced, and let his shoulders slump. “You know, I don’t mind if you sometimes help me down,” said Bowser. “But you really should have more confidence in your own building skills. The climbing stones on the wall work great. And now let’s play a game.” Bowser walked over to him, limping slightly. Although his injury had fully healed thanks to the Refreshing Herb, he apparently still had pain that came and went. Today didn’t seem to be a particularly good day for him, especially with his cold. He was slightly short of breath when he reached Luigi.

Luigi couldn’t help but ask. “Are you okay?”

Bowser didn’t seem offended. “Yeah.” He leaned back and spread his arms as if he wanted to let himself fall backward. Then he moved his arms up and down. It was his way of showing he wanted to be picked up. Luigi lifted him onto his knee.

Bowser looked in amazement at the console on Luigi’s lap in front of him. “Is that a Switch 2? How did you get your hands on that? It’s still just a rumor!”

“It’s a prototype,” Luigi said hesitantly. “I have good connections with the company because I helped them out once. After they almost sued me over a mod. But the president at the time liked my idea for a two-player mode so much that he invited me for coffee, and somehow we ended up becoming friends.”

“Was that Doug Bowser?” Bowser chuckled. It was probably funny that one of the most important men in their world shared a name with a famous villain.

“I’m under contract and can’t say anything. But that’s how I got my hands on the console, even though it’s not on the market yet. It’s supposed to work just like the old one. With a few minor improvements.” Luigi grinned suggestively. “Clubhouse 51 World-Wide Games? A game of chess?”

“No,” Bowser said decisively. “Your brain is like a supercomputer, making it impossible to beat you.”

“You just haven’t tried hard enough.”

“My brain can only stay focused for thirty minutes. After that, all my strategies collapse like a house of cards that you’ve built so carefully, only to place one card wrong.”

“But in Shogi, you remain unbeatable for hours.”

Bowser tucked his hands under his shell. “Are you arguing with logic against the chaotic brain of someone with ADHD? So neurodivergent!”

Luigi shrugged. “My logic is just unbeatable. Then maybe the Yahtzee game?” It was their safe-to-go-choice when they couldn’t agree on something.

“Actually…” Bowser pressed his fingertips together and searched for his words. “I wanted to ask if you’d show me the game you developed. I know you don’t really like showing your stuff, but—”

“I’d love to!” His cheeks flushed as he realized he hadn’t just interrupted Bowser but had spoken way too enthusiastically. He’d been waiting the whole time for Bowser to ask him. Yes, it was true, he didn’t like showing his creative work, but only because most people either made fun of it or praised it to the skies because he was supposedly a savant. Which he wasn’t. But with Bowser, there was another reason why he had hesitated until now. “But it’s about Mario.”

“I can handle that small guy, as long as he’s not really in the room with us.” Instead of being put off, Bowser seemed even more interested. He sat down on Luigi’s knee like the king he was and smiled. “Then show me.”

Luigi opened the game on his Switch. He had a development kit. Judging by Bowser’s wide eyes, he’d noticed, but had decided to hold back on commenting. “It’s called Super Mario. I’ve been working on it for a long time, but I only really got started since we’ve been here in the Mushroom Kingdom. The area was very inspiring.”

The title screen appeared, and Bowser’s enthusiasm waned. “8-bit?”

“Not exactly. The processing power is higher. But I’m using the style of old 2D games. I like retro games. I get that they’re not for everyone, though.”

“No, that’s not it. To be honest, I was just expecting something, well, more advanced, if you know what I mean. Something in 3D.”

“I hear that a lot,” Luigi said with a hint of sadness. For some reason, everyone thought he was working on the next open-world Legend of Zelda, which he was in a way (but no one was allowed to know that), yet his passion project was this lovingly crafted platformer.

“No,” Bowser said. “You’re misunderstanding me. Maybe I’m misunderstanding myself, too. I did have those expectations, but it really shouldn’t have surprised me. You make the games you like, and that’s cool. And in fact, I love retro games.”

“Thanks.” Luigi smiled again. “Shall we play it now?”

“Absolutely!”

***

Luigi had expected them to be done in fifteen minutes. Most people—although there hadn’t been many he had shown it to, to begin with—had decided after just five minutes that the game wasn’t for them. He admitted that the controls were quite difficult. They used both the Switch’s touchscreen and the buttons, which turned playing into a sort of a finger workout. For Bowser, who had to hop from button to button, it was even a full-body workout. They had to play it together because the touchscreen didn’t respond to his scaly skin. But that just made the game more fun, even though Luigi had already played it a million times by now.

“Wow. That’s really awesome,” Bowser said when they’d cleared another level. The 2D Mario on the screen slid down a pole and jumped into the grass, which swayed in the artificial wind. “You’re planning on working on the accessibility, though?”

“No,” Luigi said firmly.

Bowser looked up at him. “That’s surprising. Sorry, but that is surprising coming from you.”

“I don’t think this game should be made accessible. It’s difficult. That’s what makes it fun.”

“But a lot of people won’t be able to play it because of that.”

“We can still play it.” His words seemed to shock Bowser. He continued: “If there really are people out there who want to play the game, they’ll find a way to play it their own way. Sounds like neoliberal market logic, which it probably is, but I’m getting at something else: I don’t make my games for a potential customer base; I make them for those who really want to play them.”

“Okay, I dabbled a bit in media studies, but I still don’t get it.”

Luigi paused the game and leaned back on his arms. “These days, games are made as accessible as possible, which isn’t wrong in itself, but they’re also getting easier—and therefore more confusing. Too many explanations. Too much hand-holding. I miss the games that were challenging because they didn’t have an assist mode. But what really upsets me and makes it so bad is that these options are implemented in games without asking what the players actually want. For example, Mario likes subtitles because they help him stay focused while watching something, but for someone who might not be listening to the audio at the same time, they’re too fast. They might even be distracting. And often, they’re the only thing people with hearing impairments are given. Yes, there are visual cues and vibrations, but those are often thrown in without much thought.”

“So, you’re saying people with hearing impairments shouldn’t play video games?”

Luigi shot Bowser a troubled look. “I’m saying we should develop games together with these people so that the features they want aren’t just aids, but an integral part of the game. What if we don’t hear a stone being struck, but feel it through vibration? What if the protagonist has a hearing impairment themselves and navigates the game world differently? Why are we always just an afterthought instead of truly being part of it?”

Bowser stared at him with his mouth agape. Finally, he said, “Wow, Gi, you’re totally into this, I can see that. I regret even asking, and I love where your thoughts are going.” Bowser took a deep breath. “But it also makes me wonder: Why aren’t they in your game?”

“Because this game wasn’t made with or for people with hearing impairments. I’m not going to assume what these people need and want, and end up adding something that nobody likes or finds helpful. This game is for neurodivergent people looking for a challenge. Actually, it’s just for myself and Mario. He loves it, and that’s all that matters. Games don’t have to be for everyone; it’s nice when they are, but I just like when there’s a variety of games. Then everyone can find what works for them.”

“Well, the way you put it, it makes perfect sense, and I totally agree. I like the game, but I wouldn’t mind playing a game for people with hearing impairments either. That sounds just as fun.”

“Actually, I’m working on one right now. It’s called The Wrecking Crew 2D.”

“And you’re working on it with someone who…”

Luigi nodded. “Someone who has a hearing impairment. Spike.”

“What a plot twist!” Bowser exclaimed and coughed. “Sign me up as a beta tester. I don’t have a hearing impairment, but I have trouble listening to people. Mostly, though, only when they’re talking about boring stuff that doesn’t interest me one bit. Still, I want to play it!”

“All right. I’ll bring my laptop with the test version next time.”

“Nice!” Bowser pumped his fist in the air. “Can we continue playing now?”

Luigi laughed and continued the game.

***

“You know, I actually have an even bigger criticism of the game. Do you want to hear it?”

Luigi nodded. He didn’t mind Bowser giving his input; he found it helpful.

“The story! There’s no story! It’s like someone just took us, threw us into the world, and randomly pieced scenes together. Mario runs around, and then this happens, and that, and out of nowhere comes a spaceship, an explosion, Toads, an amusement park. I see the action, sure, but where’s the narrative?”

Luigi smiled. It was amusing when Bowser complained with such passion; the way he threw his arms up in the air with wild gestures, how his voice would rise and fall, how he acted out his emotions. It reminded him of Mario whenever he argued that the latest action movie had too much script.

But then Luigi grew serious; he understood what Bowser was getting it. “I didn’t really think about it when I was developing the game. I just wanted to create something cool. But I don’t know how I could make it better either. I also have the feeling that something is missing.”

“A villain,” said Bowser. “Your world is too peaceful; it lacks meaning—I mean in terms of the in-game world. The hero’s journey has no deeper meaning. What is his goal? Why does he face all these explosive dangers? He needs an arch-enemy, someone who challenges him. Someone who has taken something from him that he absolutely wants back, no matter the cost.”

“Someone who breathes fire and kidnaps princesses?” suggested Luigi with a knowing grin.

Bowser looked offended for a moment, but then grinned as well. “Exactly. A dangerous dragon who makes Mario’s life a living hell. I am the one missing from this game. I’ll acquire a magical scepter with which I’ll turn the inhabitants of the Mushroom Kingdom into blocks, stones, and blades of grass. Then the landscape will make sense, too! And no one can stop me.”

“And let me guess: you kidnap a princess.”

“That would be pretty cliché, but it’s pretty close to the truth.”

“You kidnap her because she’s the strongest and could use her magic to break the curse you’ve placed on all the Toads.”

“Yes! That would let us outsmart the ‘damsel in distress’ trope. Even if people will probably still misinterpret it and think the kidnapped princess is weak. But she isn’t. Our Peach is living proof.”

“And one day, a simple plumber comes along, sees that the Mushroom Kingdom is in danger, and rushes to the princess’s rescue so she can break the spell and save everyone else.”

“That sounds like a story that will go down in video game history as a masterpiece,” Bowser cheered.

There was a knock at the door. The two turned to the Toad who had poked his head in. “Sorry, I just happened to be passing by and heard you guys talking. What are you planning, and can I join the revolution?”

“Absolutely. Revolution!” Bowser roared, nearly falling off Luigi’s lap in his excitement. Luigi held him by the arm while Bowser regained his balance and coughed.

“It’s just a video game,” Luigi said apologetically to Toad.

“Oh.” Toad looked deeply disappointed and closed the door again. They could only hear his frustrated mutter: “I wanted to lead the revolution.”

“Should we be worried?” Luigi asked, but Bowser waved him off.

“There is always a rebel even in the best of armies. It’s healthy.”

“You don’t sound very healthy right now,” Luigi remarked.

Bowser cleared his throat to get rid of the rasp in his voice, but it remained. “I should stop yelling so much when I’m sick. You don’t sound much better, by the way.”

Luigi sniffled and reached for a tissue. They took a short break and then continued playing casually while they kept exchanging ideas. Which meant that Bowser presented his ideas while Luigi agreed that they were good.

“Oh, and we should call her Princess Toadstool,” Bowser suggested.

“Why’s that?” Luigi asked.

“Because then, when Mario finally rescues her, he’ll realize she’s everything he despises. She’s not actually a human, but a mushroom. And Mario has to eat her.”

“No, Bowser, this isn’t going to be a story about cannibalism. Maybe there’s a kiss at the end as a reward?”

“They barely know each other. The poor princess was just kidnapped, has spent more time with her kidnapper than with anyone else, and suddenly this small guy is standing in front of her, and she’s supposed to kiss him? Unrealistic! Leave it out.”

“Should the kidnapper and the princess kiss then?” Luigi teased him.

Bowser put on a blank face. “I didn’t know you were into that, Gi. Should we throw in some bondage too? Toxic relationships? Some kinks?”

Bowser said all this with such deadly seriousness that Luigi couldn’t help but start laughing, which caused Bowser’s iron mask to crack. Bowser huffed a laugh, but then he grew serious again. “I don’t need a happy ending. I’m the villain. In the end, I’ll fall into the lava and never rise again.”

“But what if you do rise again?” Luigi said. “What if the plot twist isn’t that the princess is a mushroom, but that the villain keeps coming back? What if…” Luigi thought for a moment, and an idea struck him. It would be a pretty funny inside joke. “…the princess is waiting in another castle?”

Bowser furrowed his eyebrows. He’d probably never heard of the Toads’ joke.

“I mean, what if Mario arrives at the castle and runs into you there? He thinks you’re defeated and moves on, only to find a few Toads who tell him his princess is in another castle? What if the princess managed to escape her captor’s clutches and moved on while the two of them were fighting? She gets her own side story. But neither she nor Mario expect the villain to keep coming back and making their lives difficult.”

“That’s a pretty far-fetched idea, but I like it,” said Bowser. “Just don’t count on anyone understanding it right away. I love how simple the story seems, yet how complex it is beneath the surface.”

Luigi nodded in agreement. The story was simple enough that everyone could enjoy it, but those who delved deeper into it would find an even more rewarding and exciting narrative.

“Hey, Gi,” Bowser said suddenly in a quiet, almost hesitant tone. He fiddled with his claws and didn’t look him in the eye. “If you really include me in this game, could you give me wings? I…” Bowser pressed his lips together and paced back and forth a bit on his knee. It seemed hard for him to talk about it, and Luigi waited patiently until he was ready. “I told you once that I’m actually half-dragon. Everyone in my family, except for my dad, who was a turtle, had wings. Pretty big ones, and they were all super proud of them. When I was born with a spiky shell instead of wings, I was cast out. But I would have loved to have wings. Kamek once made me some out of cardboard, and I used to run around everywhere with them. Imagine it: a little Bowser with papier-mâché wings that went flap-flap with every step.”

Luigi pictured it and smiled. Bowser must have been just as cute a kid as Mario, who used to tie a bedsheet around himself and play superhero. While Luigi had been cast as the monster under the bed.

But Luigi’s smile faded as Bowser continued. “If I’d had wings, I might have been able to protect others. Many call me a self-proclaimed king, but my family actually are the mighty guardian dragons of the royalties. With their massive wings, they protected towns and castles from foreign powers. Perhaps I was so obsessed with kidnapping a princess to show them that they had failed in their sole duty: Protecting someone. They hadn’t protected me. It was more important to them to appear pure-blooded; to maintain the illusion of an ideal world. But their arrogance was their undoing, not only because of me—who had brought them nothing but shame—but also because of the hunters. I never found out directly, but Kamek isn’t particularly good at keeping things from me either.

One day I saw Kamek raise his wand and kill a human who wanted to harm me. He called them ‘dragon slayers.’ That’s when I knew who had killed my chance of ever proving to my family that even a dragon without wings can be good. From that day on, I decided to be evil and to hate humans. Maybe out of anger, maybe out of revenge, maybe to cope with the overwhelming grief. I wanted everyone to suffer as much as I did. But that was wrong. By now, I’ve figured out where my feelings come from, and that they’re amplified by my neurodiversity. And that probably no one feels the way I do. That made the world pretty lonely, but the thinking also numbed the pain, gave it a reason other than just being.” Bowser shook his head and buried it in his hand. “It’s no excuse, I know that. And I’m not telling you this story so you can put it in the game. I don’t want that. The villain has to be completely evil. He doesn’t need a reason for it. His sole reason for existing is to be defeated, so that the person who accomplished this feat feels good. Leave it that way. So that one day people will see how ridiculous that is. Let them write their own stories about the villain, why he is the way he is, why he kidnaps the princess, why he keeps coming back. Why good and evil can only exist in this fragile balance. But don’t give them my story. Because I don’t want to tell it. Even though I just kind of did. But I trust you, Gi, that you won’t tell anyone else.” Bowser looked up at him; tears welled up behind his eyes, which didn’t dare to fall.

Luigi held out a finger to Bowser. “I promise you, Bi.”

Bowser placed his hand on Luigi’s finger and sniffed. The tears were flowing now, sliding gently over his scales and falling onto Luigi’s knee. He blinked, fought against them, raised his other hand, and wiped them away. He closed his eyes and looked like the saddest creature in the world. Some would probably have said that Bowser was a damn good actor; a dramatist; a monster who knew how to convince everyone. But as a neurodivergent person, Luigi knew better. Those were Bowser’s true feelings. Feelings they rarely showed because they feared others’ reactions. Because they were called fake. Because they weren’t understood. Was it so hard to understand that they were simply sad because terrible things had happened?

Luigi instinctively leaned closer and reached out his other hand, but Bowser signaled that he didn’t want the comfort. He was fine. That wasn’t a lie, either. They might be sad, but that didn’t mean they were broken or sick. Or needed help. Not all of them.

Bowser took a deep breath and gradually calmed down. He opened his mouth several times but seemed unable to find the words. Luigi had never seen him like this before. Usually, Bowser always came up with something to say even if he was just blurting nonsense. Him being unable to say a thing showed just how helpless he was in this situation. Finally, he found his words, and they sounded just like him: “Wow, what was that just now? A total emotional roller coaster I didn’t see coming. Sorry if I dragged you into anything there.”

Luigi shook his head; he hadn’t.

Bowser kicked the air, looking a bit embarrassed. “Well, totally ruined the moment. I don’t even remember what we were talking about. Oh yeah, right, I wanted wings. Give my character wings and let the players guess why he has them. And…” Bowser closed his eyes and groaned. He swayed slightly to the side.

Luigi supported him with a finger. “You okay?”

“No,” said Bowser. “No, I’m not doing well at all. I don’t even know what’s going on. I…” Bowser grasped for words in the air, then shook his head. “I think I just need a moment. It has nothing to do with you. I… I think I’m going through something similar to what you went through recently. For no reason at all, my emotions are overwhelming me.”

“Do you want me to leave you alone?”

“No,” said Bowser. “No, not that. I…” Bowser gritted his teeth. Frustration was etched on his face. Luigi recognized it from Mario: the rage that comes when you can’t express yourself in a way the world can understand. Luigi knew it himself only as a feeling of inner withdrawal, a complete shutting out of the world, but he was aware that Mario—and presumably Bowser as well—expressed it loudly. They wanted to scream at the world. To destroy it.

“Hey, take a deep breath first,” Luigi said in a soothing tone. Bowser reluctantly complied. “Good, and now exhale. You don’t have to explain anything right now. You just have to breathe.”

Bowser took a deep breath and coughed. He grumbled.

Luigi took his cap and held it out to Bowser. “You can punch it.”

Bowser looked at him in disbelief. His expression was exactly like Mario’s when Luigi held a pillow out to him. “That’s ridiculous,” said Bowser. And then he hit it. At first cautiously, as if he feared the cap would strike back. Then he hit it harder and harder. His fists rained down on the cap in a fury as he huffed, hissed, and breathed fire. The latter wasn’t such a good thing, but luckily the fabric had been fireproof since their last trip to the Lava Mountains. Bowser unleashed all his anger on the cap until he was completely spent and let his arms drop in exhaustion. He was breathing heavily, but content.

“Wow, that really helps,” Bowser said, coughing.

Luigi sniffed and let out the sneeze that had been tickling him for a while. “Achoo! Yeah, it’s pretty effective.” He took a tissue and blew his nose.

“Do you do that too when you’re frustrated?”

Luigi shrugged vaguely.

“No, wait, you have more intense reactions.”

“They’re not more intense,” Luigi corrected him, “just different. Some of us are loud and obvious, others tend to get quiet and withdraw. Unfortunately, often only the particularly loud ones are seen, which is why people assume everyone is like that.”

“ADHD beats autism,” Bowser said triumphantly, before pausing. “Or rather, autism beats ADHD when it comes to representation. Ugh, I have no idea. I still can’t think straight, and I’m still angry. Can you put me down?”

Luigi set Bowser down on the floor. Bowser paced back and forth in circles. It almost looked like he was chasing his own tail in slow motion. “Don’t question it,” Bowser called out to him. “This is my usual way of calming down. But normally I listen to music while doing it.”

Luigi pulled out his phone.

“You have no idea what I like,” Bowser said challengingly.

Luigi turned on rock music with deep bass. Bowser shot him an almost angry look. “You’ve got to be kidding me, Gi. My favorite song for moments like this!” Luigi grinned.

“What do you usually listen to, anyway?” Bowser asked, doing a few dance moves. “Let me guess, ballads?”

“Heavy metal.”

“You’re kidding.”

Luigi gave him the right answer. “8-bit music.”

Bowser raised both eyebrows. “I could’ve guessed that.”

“But I can’t listen to it when I’m stressed,” Luigi continued. “It would ruin the happy mood I associate with it.”

“Interesting. We’re really different in that regard.”

“Actually, we’re very different in many aspects, but I think that’s what makes us such good friends.”

“I have a term for that: We’re both on different ends of the spectrum.”

“I think you wanted to say: you’re dancing on the spectrum, Bi.”

Bowser laughed as he tap-danced. “Absolutely!” He coughed and stopped dancing. When he signaled to Luigi to turn off the music and things had quieted down, Bowser said, “I feel better, even though my body feels worse. Phew, I’m definitely going to be sore tomorrow. Somehow, I’m full of energy and damn exhausted at the same time. Does Mario feel that way too?”

“Yeah,” said Luigi.

“And you?”

Luigi smiled weakly. “I’m always tired.”

“You don’t look like it.”

“I’ve been so tired my whole life that I can’t tell the difference anymore from being awake.”

“Wow, profound.” Bowser waddled over to him and gestured for him to pick him up again. Luigi set him back on his knee. “It must be exhausting to have a voice in your head all the time.”

Luigi vaguely moved his head from side to side. “You get used to it.”

Bowser raised his eyebrows questioningly. “I don’t believe you. I mean, if it were inside my head, I’d crush it.”

Luigi let out a quiet laugh. “That would be nice. If only the thoughts would stop.”

“Isn’t there any medication or something?”

Luigi shook his head. “No, nothing that helps me. But I’m not unhappy.”

“Me neither,” said Bowser. “I don’t like my anger, but it’s a part of me. And I work just fine without medication. Not that it’s wrong, if it helps someone. Like with Mario. Are you ever jealous?”

Luigi thought about the question. “Yeah,” he finally said. “But I also know that medication isn’t a miracle cure. Mario handles a lot without them. Can we talk about something else?”

He liked that Bowser didn’t question it, but simply nodded. “Okay, different topic.” Bowser walked down his leg to the cap lying in Luigi’s lap. “I’m incredibly sorry I scorched it.”

Luigi hadn’t noticed the slight burn mark until Bowser mentioned it. He brushed off the soot and put his cap back on. Suddenly, he felt something else on his lap, right next to his Switch: Bowser had curled up there.

“Sorry, I’m suddenly tired.”

“It was all pretty exhausting, after all.” Luigi put his Switch away.

“You’re not planning on leaving now that I’ve made myself comfortable, are you?” Bowser sounded almost like a child who didn’t want his playmate to leave.

“No,” Luigi said with a smile. “I’m staying a little longer.”

“Good,” Bowser said in a strange tone. It was also strange that he didn’t react when Luigi stroked his head with a finger. Luigi pulled his hand away and let his arms hang loosely at his sides. Somehow, Bowser ended up using the crook of his arm as a pillow. Maybe Bowser was just doing it to restrict his movements—to make sure he didn’t leave after all.

“I have something else to tell you, Gi,” Bowser said without looking at him. Luigi made a sound to let him know he was listening. “I’ll be going into hibernation for a month soon. My immune system has gotten pretty weak, as you’ve probably noticed.” He coughed as if to prove it. “That means we won’t be able to talk to each other for a while.”

“Mario and I will be heading back to our family in Brooklyn for Christmas soon, so it works out,” said Luigi. “I’ll miss you anyway.”

“Me too,” Bowser whispered softly, almost as if it were hard for him to admit it.

Luigi tried to deflect the sentimentality with humor. “By the way, I thought turtles hibernated for more than three months?”

“Maybe yours do, but I only need a month. It’s actually voluntary, but I think my body needs it. Besides, I’m only half a turtle.” He flashed a half-smile.

“I’ve heard dragons sleep longer.”

“Without my beauty sleep, I’ll just be—” Bowser seemed to have lost the rest of his sentence. “Ugly or something. Hey, Gi… Would you check on me while I’m hibernating, I mean, as soon as you get back? They assured me they’d leave me alone, but I don’t trust them. To be honest, I’m scared.” He barely whispered the last words.

“Sure,” Luigi assured him. “I’ll check on you.”

“Good. I’m going to rest a bit now. Don’t worry, I’ll wake up again. I’ll probably start talking again in five minutes anyway, because… I just can’t stop talking.”

Luigi let out a quiet laugh. He was used to it by now. But Bowser actually fell asleep after a few minutes. He hadn’t retreated into his shell, but simply lay there with all his limbs stretched out, his tail dangling. Almost like a pet. A very content pet.

Finally, the door opened. Luigi had also fallen into a sort of half-sleep, so he shook himself awake. Mario stood in front of him, eyeing him strangely. “Everything okay, Lu? You didn’t make it to the exit.”

Luigi looked down at the creature in his lap. “I’m being held captive.”

Mario rolled his eyes. “What a clingy one.”

“I like it,” said Luigi.

Mario studied Bowser a little longer. “He’s kind of cute.” When he realized he’d said it loud enough for Luigi to hear, he blushed. “You didn’t hear that, Lu.”

“What didn’t I hear, Mario?” Luigi teased him.

“Do you think you can get rid of him so we can go home?”

“Maybe.” Luigi carefully stood up with Mario’s help and took Bowser back to his castle. Luigi took one last look at Bowser before they turned off the lights and left the room.

“What actually happened to your cap?” Mario asked on the way home. “Did Bowser attack you?”

“He had some kind of meltdown, and I did the same thing I always do for you.”

Mario pressed his lips together and looked away guiltily. “I hope he didn’t punch you in the face.”

“No, he just set my cap on fire.”

“Is Bowser okay?” Mario asked cautiously.

“I think so, yeah,” Luigi assured him.

But the next time Luigi checked on Bowser, he found that Bowser was fast asleep. Apparently, he had already fallen into hibernation during their evening together.

And with him, the true story slept.