His skin was a pale blue color. 

He looked the same, but something was off - and it wasn't the fact that he wasn't breathing. I had known he was dead for days. 

Three sunsets past his 14th birthday and we had finally found him, trapped beneath the ice. I didn't know what I would feel upon seeing his stiff, cold body brought back to the surface. His skin was wrinkled, just as our fingertips would become whenever we played in the water for too long on stupid summer days. Back then, I thought that summer was the only season when the lake could be dangerous. 

His pruned fingers were slightly swollen. The eyes remained open, though I still couldn't recall what color they were. 

No, that's not true...

Blue. They were light blue, like the ice. Pale in color, almost grey, but still blue. I used to think they looked ghostly, especially when we were out at night. They'd glow and reflect the stars, reflect the moon's light. 

They were still blue. Still open. Still his. 

But he wasn't seeing through them. There were no more reflections.

I should have run to him. I told myself I would hug him and never let go as soon as we found him, but I stayed in place. My feet had been frozen to the ground.

No, I wasn't going to blame the cold. It was me. I didn't want to run to him anymore. Not when he couldn't see me. 

We had spent days searching for him. The midnight of his 14th should have been a time of celebration but had instead become one of panic. I didn't panic, though. There was no point, his fate had been sealed in an instant. 

I couldn't tell what I was feeling. It should have been heartbreak. He was my world, he was all that mattered. Was I a terrible person for not dropping to my knees and weeping at his stiff, frozen feet? 

Why wasn't I weeping? Was it shock? 

No, perhaps I was just a bad friend - a bad person. Strangers were weeping for him, so why wouldn't I? I wasn't trying to hold back tears for the sake of my dignity. If anything, not crying made me look worse; made me look cold and cruel.

I used to think only a villain could find the strength not to cry because of something so horrible, but it had come to me with ease. I couldn't cry, no matter how much I wanted to - and it was not for lack of trying. I desperately tried to push tears out, to match the attitudes of those around me, but I couldn't. The only tears I ever shed for him were lost in the moment I found him; when we were alone. 

What a waste. Why cry when no one will see? 

I used to tell myself I'd walk through fire for him, I would have gone to the ends of the earth for him, so why was I just standing back in silence? Did I ever care? Why wasn't I more hurt that I never got to tell him how much he mattered to me? Why wasn't I sobbing for the future we lost? 

I was a monster. That must have been it. A cruel, stone-hearted monster. 

"How far do you think it is?" Luigi asked. 

His limbs were stiff, his skin was blue, his eyes were icy. 

I gasped and stumbled back.

"Whoa, are you okay?!" 

With a blink, he was back to normal. Still, I couldn't catch the breath I didn't have. I could feel my heart racing, despite the fact that it had stopped beating decades ago. 

"I... you..." I murmured, confused. 

"Sorry for startling you. You just seemed lost in your thoughts," Luigi told me as he grasped my arm and helped me back up. 

His skin was still painfully cold, though I didn't cry out this time. I was better prepared for it. 

"Oh," I muttered, unsure what to say. 

"I found you again, though!" he chimed cheerfully. "I'll always pull you back to the surface when you start drowning in whatever internal things you got going on."

I shivered and pushed his hand away. I didn't need him to save me. Since when were we friends? 

Why did he change his mind about me? 

Why did I change my mind about him?

My eyes briefly landed on the dog once again. It happily pranced to and fro, oblivious and dumb. 

Did I even change my mind? I still planned to get the ghost, right? Was I still going to betray Luigi? 

Yes. I had to. Nothing was different. He was making a bad call by allowing me to follow him. That wasn't my responsibility. I owed the man in green nothing. 

"Oh wow, would you look at that?" Luigi gasped as we crossed by a small grove. 

There were about a dozen trees, all surrounding a small meadow of flowers. 

Polterpup let out a shrill bark and pranced toward the field as Luigi followed. I rolled my eyes and pushed my index finger toward the back of my hand until the sweet crackling noise filled the air. 

Luigi chased his little dog around, laughing and smiling as if he were still alive as I sat with my back to the trunk of a fir. I had always been curious as to where the trees in the Underwhere came from. Were they trees that had died? Or had they perhaps been born on Underwhere soil? Could life even be created in the Underwhere? 

Whatever, it didn't matter. 

Luigi caught his dog and hugged it tightly as its tail wagged. It didn't make sense how two dead beings could still feel so alive. 

My lip twitched slightly in the corner, though I made sure not to let a smile form. I seldom grinned anymore. Not when I didn't have to. A smile was a weapon, and quite an exhausting one to use. 

It was obvious why Polterpup was so happy. It was a ghost. Lucky little dog, it probably didn't even know how fortunate it was. Grambi's favorites hardly even acknowledged their pure luck, they often acted like their joys were earned. 

If joy could be earned through truly fair means, everyone would have it. But the universe wasn't built that way. Society is built upon suffering. One must experience pain and labor in order for another to feel happy. That was one of the many reasons I needed to fix the world - to create a place where people could feel joy without suffering. 

A place where I could feel joy without suffering. 

And yes, it would take suffering to get there, but after that, there would never be suffering again. The world would be better - all worlds would be better. 

I was a villain, I knew this well, but so was Luigi. So was everyone who saw the way the world was and didn't fight to change it. At least I could admit that there was darkness within me. People like Luigi fought so hard to keep that evil pushed down that they would create a false image of what a person was. 

"Ghost..."

I stilled and focused forward once again. 

Lurking behind one of the trees was a dark shade. I didn't recognize them, though I wasn't surprised. Few people in the Underwhere were recognizable. They were just another soul like me, another person being forgotten. 

A deep purple blade was grasped tightly in their left hand. It shook slightly - they were nervous. 

Their eyes sat upon Polterpup. 

My fists clenched tightly. 

They slowly started to sneak out when Luigi's back was turned to them. They were small and light on their feet. 

Oh no, not on my watch. 

"LUIGI!" I yelled as I quickly stood up and sprinted toward them. 

The soul's eyes went wide as I tackled them to the ground. We disappeared beneath the flowers as I tried to reach for their blade. Polterpup barked frantically as Luigi picked it up and hugged it tightly. 

They were small, though still bigger than I was. Stronger, too. It only took three seconds of struggle before their diamond dagger pushed deep into my left shoulder. 

I cried out and Luigi gasped. 

I shakily reached around until I grasped a medium-sized rock. It was heavy, but would do the job. I summed every ounce of strength I had, then firmly bashed it against the side of their head. 

Two firm hits, then they went limp. 

I bit the inside of my cheek, then slowly got off of them. Their blade was still pressed firmly into my shoulder, sticking out like a splinter. 

I turned to face the pale man in green, who trembled in fear. 

"D... did you kill them?" he asked hesitantly.

"They can't be killed, idiot," I muttered. "Already dead, remember?"

"But they're-"

"Souls can be hurt. Not killed," I clarified. 

"Oh..." he trailed off. His blue eyes flickered to the blade. "You..."

I gritted my teeth slightly, then grasped the blade with my right hand and yanked it out in one swift motion. My shoulder was flooded with sharp pain, I hissed to hold back the screams. 

Luigi flinched, though I couldn't tell why. He wasn't the one who had just been stabbed. The man in green was a legendary hero, things like this couldn't possibly make him squeamish. 

I looked at the knife, then dropped it on the soul. 

I could have kept it. Most souls would have. 

I didn't need to, though. I already had my blade. A blade I worked to earn. I wasn't going to take this soul's chance just because they made one mistake. Besides, I didn't want them hunting me down to get it back. 

"So... the knives are to hurt other people, then?" Luigi asked. 

"The knives are to kill ghosts," I groaned as I placed my hand over my wounded shoulder. There was no blood left inside me to spill, but it felt as though lava and ash were pouring out, dripping down the left side of my body. 

"Right, right," Luigi breathed. "And... what is it with everyone trying to kill ghosts down here? Why is that a thing? Just for sport?"

"You're famous for killing ghosts," I pointed out. "Are you seriously asking me that question?"

"Oh, no, no, no, I've never killed a ghost," Luigi quickly corrected. "I capture ghosts. Usually, I'll release them once again once they become more tame. They're terrifying, but typically ghosts only truly become a threat when someone like King Boo manipulates them into doing harm. I honestly didn't even know it was possible for ghosts to die. I thought the worst I could do was trap them in a painting."

I remembered the gem on King Boo's crown. Did that allow him control over the paranormal? What did that mean for Polterpup, would Luigi's precious dog do the ghost king's bidding should he want it to, or would it stay loyal to its master? 

"If you knew a ghost could be killed, would you have?" I asked. "Would you have done things differently had you known it was possible?"

Luigi hummed for a moment. He was contemplating, which said a lot. I had expected an instant "no" from him. 

"No," he eventually said, but the hesitation spoke far louder than his words. "I don't think so, at least. I mean, yes, they cause a lot of problems, but there's something terrifying about being able to kill those who are already dead. I mean... what happens beyond death?"

"There are countless theories," I shrugged. "Many think rebirth. I think we simply vanish into darkness."

"Why is that?" 

"It seems more realistic," I said. "Besides, I'd rather be pleasantly surprised than let down."

"But you said you can't die again," Luigi pointed out. 

"I can't. Ghosts can, though. We're talking about ghosts." 

"Uh-huh..." Luigi muttered. His eyes narrowed slightly in confusion. 

We both remained silent for a moment before he let out a breath and patted the top of his dog's head.

"Well, I wouldn't want to kill ghosts," Luigi repeated. This time he sounded much more certain. "I mean... Polter is my best friend. My little buddy means the world to me, even though it's a ghost. I owe so much to this little guy."

The dog barked playfully and wagged its tail. 

I frowned slightly, then looked forward, up the river. 

"I... we should head up toward the east mountains," I suggested. 

"Huh?" Luigi hummed, still distracted by his dog. 

"The east mountains," I repeated. "The river is typically more crowded. Lots of souls gather around it. If we can distance ourselves from people, we can keep you and your pet safe."

"Oh," Luigi breathed. "Okay... why, though? I mean... why do you suddenly worry?"

I pressed my ring finger backward until there was a soft pop, then walked forward. 

I didn't know, but I wasn't going to tell him that.