Dimentio...

It was my name, yet it felt different now. More foreign, almost unfamiliar.

How long had it been since someone last called me by it? When was the last time the name met my ears? 

The world had forgotten me. Luigi had forgotten me.

It was ironic, really. The name I so desperately tried to make the world remember had been lost to history decades ago. 

He remembered me now, though.

He remembered me. 

When was the last time he thought of me? Was it fondly? 

No, it wouldn't have been. What a ridiculous question. If anything, Luigi would be terrified by the mere mention of my name. It probably came with memories of being abused and manipulated, played like a marionette. 

There were few fond moments between the two of us. 

"Dimentio," he had said. Not in terror, but with desperation. He wasn't shrieking and crying, but instead had called for me. 

Not "Mario," not "Polterpup," he called "Dimentio."

Obviously because I was the only person there, but that didn't make it seem any less ridiculous.

I kept my eyes trained on his. Blue, only they seemed different now. Lighter, colder. There was an icy aura to them that hadn't been there before. White speckles sat in his eyelashes like snowflakes or frost, but it was probably dandruff. 

His head fell beneath the surface of the deep purple water as I waited along the shore. Ripples spread outward from his outstretched hand. 

The left one. The one with the golden ring. 

I glanced at the dog once again. It continued to bark, its pleas becoming louder and more frantic. I hadn't even noticed that I was still holding the knife above its back. 

Was that why Luigi called my name? Was he begging for me to save him, or begging me to spare his precious pet? 

It didn't matter. I had my own agenda, my own plan - a path I couldn't stray from

His hand fell beneath the surface.

The dog's tail was tucked slightly as a high-pitched whine cut through the air. It wasn't even trying to hide anymore. Its crying had probably alerted every soul in a mile radius of its presence. 

I had to do this, and fast. This was my chance.

So why was I hesitating?

I could be something again. I could have my name back. My potential, my power, it all could be returned to me with just one swift motion. 

My grip on the knife tightened. 

I closed my eyes.

And made the cut. 

It was surprisingly easy. Glided right through, like a warm knife through softened butter.

A scream cut through the air as I sliced directly through the claw and kicked him down. The skeletal hands wrapped around the rest of his body and quickly pulled him away. 

Luigi quickly swam to the surface and gasped for air, trembling intensely. 

Antasma's hand was still attached to the man in green's ankle, though it was disconnected from the rest of the bat's body now. 

I coughed as I quickly scrambled to shore, completely soaked. The water burned, but I was okay. I would be okay. 

I turned to look behind me, then held my arm out to the man in green. His eyebrows seemed to furrow slightly as he looked back at me, shocked. 

"Get out of the water," I commanded. "They'll drag you down."

Luigi's eyes widened slightly as he scrambled to me and took my hand. 

I reached into the water, only to instantly recoil at the sensation. It was like sticking a hand into molten lava. My glove kept the water trapped against my hand until I ripped it off. I was met with fingertips that were red and slightly swollen. I could feel my pulse throbbing through them in intense waves of pain.

A cry erupted from my throat as I took my hand back. I ripped my glove off and was met with fingertips that had turned red. 

Cold. He was ice-cold. No, it was more than that. He was below freezing, so much so that it burned. Burned like a heat far greater than that of magma. 

"Dimentio?!" Luigi frantically asked. The color had quickly drained from his face as he stood up. "Oh Grambi, you're covered in burns!"

I briefly glanced at myself as I hugged my hand to my chest. What was the man in green talking about - I didn't have a single burn on my body other than the redness of my fingertips. Yes, the water did feel like fire, but it didn't actually burn me. 

"These look bad," he continued. "You're blistering. D-Do you have burn cream?" 

Blistering?

I glanced at the water and checked my reflection. 

Not one blister. Was he blind? He must have been seeing things. 

"Here, let me-" Luigi muttered as he reached forward and touched the unmasked portion of my face. 

I let out another cry and slapped his freezing hand away.

"Don't do that," I hissed. "I'm fine. Why are you freezing?!"

"Freezing?" Luigi asked. "I... it's cold down here I suppose, but... I don't know. It doesn't matter, are you alright?!"

"I'm fine. I'm not the one who was nearly dragged down by a desperate freak with claws," I hissed. "Why did you come back?!"

"Why did you dive in to save me?" he asked in response. 

I opened my mouth, hoping that my mind would pull out some witty response, but I fell silent.

Why did I dive in and save him? It wasn't part of my plan. 

"You don't know either, huh?" Luigi asked. A small smile snuck across his face. 

Was this funny to him? Did he not know where we were? How could he smile when he was just nearly dragged to the depths of the Underwhere?

"I... you said my name," I muttered. 

My head fell to the left, I couldn't look him in the eyes anymore. Usually, when speaking, I'd maintain eye contact to show the opponent that I wasn't afraid, but I couldn't let him discover anything through my eyes. 

"So... you saved me?" he asked. 

"You remembered my name," I clarified. 

"So you saved me." 

My fists clenched slightly. I swear, if Luigi was going to make a big deal about this, I was going to push him back into the water. 

I reattached the diamond dagger to my belt and ran my throbbing hands through my hair. The one that had touched Luigi was still trembling. 

I hated the cold. It was a feeling I thought I'd never have to encounter again. What gave Luigi the right to bring it back to me?

Luigi took off his green scarf and started to wring it out. It had already become stiff, as if his body was freezing it. 

I looked back at his ring.

Probably a princess. A girl, most definitely. Luigi was too famous to marry a man without it becoming big or controversial. Or maybe it wasn't a wedding ring. Perhaps he had been engaged. 

Or maybe it was just something he wore for style.

No, it had to be an engagement ring. He wouldn't put it on that specific hand, that specific finger, if it were something else. 

Peach, perhaps? Back in the day, it was obvious that Princess Peach was Mario's girl, but that didn't mean Luigi couldn't harbor secret feelings for her. Mr. L made it clear that deep down, he did find her attractive. She was strong and tough, and she didn't let others order her around. She could be perfect for Luigi, who was a natural-born follower and perhaps the universe's biggest pushover. 

Would Mario ever let him win the girl, though? 

I doubted Peach would settle for second place when she could have someone like the man in red. No one in their right mind would. When it comes to being a royal, weddings are rarely about love. They're about power and control. Even if she had loved Luigi, she wouldn't have married him. She'd marry Mario because he'd make a better king. Mario would have the guts to do what needed to be done while Luigi would wait for others to advise him. The man in green would overthink, he'd be too afraid to truly lead. 

Mr. L would have made a fine king. 

The ring must have signified a bond to another princess. I could only imagine what pairing a princess with a legendary hero could do for a kingdom. He was probably tied to a smaller kingdom. Surely he was no one's first choice, that would have been Mario, but he'd still have enough fame to be of some value. 

Being the man in green, I wouldn't have been surprised if he was forced to wed an ancient descendant, either. He surely must have had children. He was too important not to. He'd need to pass that power onto someone before dying. 

Maybe he had multiple kids. He looked like he would make a good father. He surely had more than one. Seeing how much having a sibling mattered to him, he wouldn't subject his own kid to the loneliness that came with being an only child. Maybe two children, to match the relationship he and his own brother had. Twins, perhaps.

"Oh, um, we follow the river," Luigi said, snapping me out of my thoughts. 

He wrapped his scarf around his neck once again and used his left hand to scratch the back of his head. His hair had begun to dry, though it appeared more stiff than before. 

"Huh?" I asked.

"The river," he repeated. "We follow it. To, you know, get to the Overthere. It flows from the north, all the way across the Underhwere."

I glanced back at the water. After what just happened, I would have figured Luigi would want to run as far from both me and the water as he possibly could. 

Why was he telling me this? What was being implied? 

He turned away from me and started to slowly walk along the riverside. 

I wanted him to take a few steps away from the shore, just to be safe. It was rare, but sometimes skeletal hands would reach above the water's surface. 

Polterpup trotted up beside me and let out a yap. 

I glanced down at it and allowed my hand to hover over my diamond dagger. 

I didn't grab ahold of it, though. 

Why wasn't the dog hiding from me? Did it have no survival instincts at all? 

Why did Luigi let me keep my dagger? 

Why was he telling me where he was going? 

The dog's tongue was sticking out. Its tail wagged happily as if it was excited by something. It wasn't looking at its owner, though. The pupilless eyes were trained on me. 

I rolled my eyes and kneeled down. My hand didn't phase through the creature but instead sat atop it as if it was solid. 

The ghost was soft, despite having no fur. There was a thin layer of fuzz, similar to a blanket. My hand trailed from the ghost's neck down to its back. 

It closed its eyes in content. 

The throbbing in my hand slowly subsided as my hand skated across the small dog. The fire within me calmed, though it didn't completely diminish. All the overwhelming heat that surrounded me had turned to a gentle warmth, like the feeling of sunlight gently kissing my skin on a late spring evening. I heard nothing but Luigi's retreating footsteps, the rustling of the water, and the dog's soft panting. 

Had a calming spell been cast over me? Did ghosts have that kind of power? 

"Dimentio?" Luigi asked. He turned to look back at me, though his eyes didn't express any fear. 

How could he leave his dog in the presence of someone like me? Were my intentions clear before? I thought he figured out my plan when that big round ghost showed up and ruined everything. Why was he suddenly so trusting? 

I remained silent, not out of spite but simply because I had nothing to say. In life, it seemed I always had too many words locked away. Now, I had too few. 

With one last stroke against the soft texture, I stood and followed in the man in green's footsteps.