It was the beginning of summertime in the Mushroom Kingdom, and all the creatures of the land were winding down. The Koopas were sunbathing on the beach, the Monty Moles were throwing and catching rocks, even the Shy Guy choir sang, echoing a faint melody across the forest. Amidst the harmony of nature, two plumbers and their companions could be heard making a commotion.

"Daisy, I'm-a open!" She passed the ball to Luigi. Dribbling the ball between his feet, he shuffled down the field. Determined, he avoided an approach from Mario and punted the ball towards the open goal.

Princess Peach blocked the ball easily and kicked it back to Mario. "La la la la la la!" she taunted and danced.

"Mama mia! That's not-a fair!" Luigi sighed, just as Mario took advantage of Peach's distraction and pushed the ball through the opposing defense. Daisy and Luigi rushed for the ball, but they were too late; the ball bounced against the net of the goal. Peach and Mario cheered.

Luigi caught up with Daisy, gasping for breath. He turned to the referee, a small Toad with a uniform and whistle. "I call foul play! They were cheating!" he panted.

The referee shook his head disapprovingly. "Luigi, I'm sorry, but that was a legal move. Get back into the game and be a fair sport."

Exasperated, Daisy glared at Luigi. "You're not trying hard enough. You're supposed to be defense!"

She had a point. He had spent years training his body and his reflexes to the point where he could compete on an Olympic level. This lapse of focus was unusual for him, and Daisy knew it. However, he wasn't going to let her have the satisfaction.

"You think I'm-a not trying? I don't know-a what-a you expect-a from me!"

"Just play like you do in training!" she said with a grimace.

If only it were that easy. There was something on Luigi's mind, but for some reason he had trouble articulating it…

WHAM. The ball hit him in the side of the head. Luigi stood in shock for a lingering second, but then his legs buckled to the ground. At first he heard his friends shouting for him, but then ringing filled his ears, and then blackness.


"And you're saying that's when these feelings first started?"

"No, it's gotten-a worse over time."

"Hmm…" Dr. Toad stroked his chin thoughtfully, as if toads were capable of having a goatee.

The office of the psychologist was very bare, only containing a minimal amount of furniture. The room contained a metal desk, a black couch, and a table made of brown brick between them. The walls were plain and unappealing, without any decorations or wallpaper. It gave Luigi the unsettling feeling of imprisonment.

"Can you think of other situations in which you experience the same type of 'trigger'?"

Luigi took a moment to think. "There-a was this one-a time I was playing-a Go Karts, and Mario tossed a banana peel in front of him-a when I was a millisecond away from the finish line!"

Dr. Toad gazed at Luigi with concern. "Who ended up winning?"

Luigi slammed the brick table with his gloved hand, and it crumbled to dust. "I slipped off the road and ended up totaling the kart. He stole-a the Star Cup from me, and made me-a pay for the damages!" Luigi snarled.

"That must've hurt you badly, Luigi. I can understand where you are coming from," Dr. Toad reassured him. He scooted out his chair, and pulled out another brick table from his closet without saying a word.

"It costed a million coins. A MILLION COINS! Who would-a waste their-a time to collect that-a many!" Luigi exclaimed, and buried his bandaged face in his hands.

"It sounds to me like there may be a pattern here. Both times, you were in a competition, and both times, you-"

lost because of Mario! No…wait, that can't be it. Mario is my brother, I can't blame my problems on him. You can if he's the source of your problems!

He heard a snapping of fingers.

"Luigi?" Luigi blinked at the sight of the toad's hand in front of his face. "You haven't replied to what I said…"

Luigi shook his head, attempting to knock out the haziness. "Sorry, I got-a distracted. Could you please-a repeat what you said?" Luigi asked politely.

"I was saying that maybe your problem lies in your competitive nature."

Really? Could it be that simple? Maybe I am focusing on winning too much. No! It's because of Mario! Don't listen to him!

Luigi shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "Huh? What do you mean by that?" Luigi asked skeptically.

"Maybe you should take a break from training and focus on dealing with-"

your brother! He has ruined everything you've strived for, you've trained for! You've had it with his superior attitude, his constant ability to be better than you. Everyone likes him and everyone hates you! He deserves to be punished!

"Luigi!" The plumber focused once more, just realizing that he had inadvertently destroyed another desk with his fist. Dr. Toad regained his composure. "Luigi, I mean this very delicately, but I think you're not telling me everything."

Luigi stared at him coldly. "And where are these accusations coming from?" he said quietly. His voice now had a sinister, almost lifeless quality to it.

The room filled with silence for a couple seconds.

Finally, the toad spoke. "I-I wouldn't call them accusations. I just want to be able to help you, and I don't know what you're-"

"I think you're right," Luigi said, expression unchanging.

"What do you mean?"

"You don't know what I'm thinking. And it's going to stay that way. Good day." Luigi stood up sharply, and walked out the exit.


Mario gasped in disbelief as it dawned on him how serious this was. Luigi was lying on the ground, a huge bruise on the top of his head extending down to the temple, and blood was slowly trickling from the wound. Peach screamed and fainted.

"LUIGI! Someone call an ambulance!" Daisy wailed as she rushed for his crumpled body.

What have I done… Mario's mind was frozen. He mustered up all the self-control he had, and turned to the dumbfounded referee who hadn't moved since Luigi got hurt. "You heard-a the princess! He needs-a medical attention!"

"Right a-away sir!" The toad scurried away to bring the medic team.


Mario sat alone, waiting at Luigi's bedside. Daisy and Peach had left long ago. Sure, they had stayed for at least five hours, but they eventually left to go home and sleep. They tried to convince him to leave too, but Mario insisted on staying, almost obsessively. He couldn't rest with a good conscience anyway.

He didn't intend for any of this to happen, of course. He was only trying to score another goal, but Luigi didn't move out of the way in time. Mario realized he had acted impulsively; adrenaline is a powerful drug.

But all of these rationalizations were stupid and pointless. Luigi was hurt, maybe dying, because of him. He'd never forgive himself, if the worst were to happen…

The room was silent, albeit the repetitive beeping of the EKG. Luigi was strapped in with multiple wires monitoring his heart-rate, his brain functioning and his breathing. He also had multiple IV tubes in place to maintain his fluids. Half his face was bandaged in gauze.

He had been unconscious since the injury, but the doctors had reassured Mario that it was a good thing he wasn't awake. They had used medical terminology he didn't understand like cerebral hemorrhaging, and concussive trauma. In other words, it sounded bad.

The part he could understand, however, was that Luigi was likely to have brain damage. What that could mean for him, was unknown. Best-case scenario: he'd lose a couple memories and have a slight personality change. Worst-case scenario… Mario didn't want to think about.


Several days passed. Luigi finally woke up, and the doctors scanned him for any additional problems. Lo and behold, he had none. Mario and Luigi rejoiced at this news.

They warned Luigi to avoid any physical exertion for the next six months, as well as mentioning that his perception may be different from now on because of the brain damage. As far as he could tell, there didn't seem to be any differences. Just to be sure, they signed him up for several sessions with a psychologist, as well as a neurologist, to evaluate his mental health and make sure everything was "running smoothly" as they said.


It was night-time, and Luigi was walking down the street with a skip in his step. His psychologist appointment had helped Luigi more than the therapist had realized. If he had never revisited his feelings from the day of the injury, he wouldn't have come up with the plan that would finally put him on top. Mario would never see it coming.