Supplementary

Toadette can't focus. Every little thing irritates her, even when it never bothered her before. The squeakiness of her shoes, her pigtails brushing against her shoulders, the silence of a calm day; she's spiraling closer and closer to losing her mind.

When Toad visits her garage to apologize once again for his childish behavior, she brusquely brushes him off, purposely causing a racket as she works on her kart to drown out his sullen tones. After ignoring Toad and rejecting his sixth apology, he finally accepts his losses and leaves with a massive sigh.

Toadette feels a tinge of guilt for her anger-fueled stubbornness, but bashes her wrench against a particular screw refusing to twist. The tiny metal screw is more stubborn than her it seems and she's able to morph the remorse into aggressive agitation.

Toadette decides, after living through that painful encounter and nearly destroying her kart because a screw is being difficult, a break is necessary—unless she plans to tear apart the entire garage from the tantrum she's fighting to keep in check.

She sits at her bench, furiously shoving a variety of junk food into her cheeks to curb her anger with the addictive taste of salt and oil when she hears a light knock. She pauses, a potato chip hanging by her awaiting mouth.

She scrunches up her nonexistent brows, snapping her mouth closed to scowl. She doesn't know who would be knocking before entering the garage because everyone usually invites themselves in, but her curiosity outweighs her frustration. Maybe it's Ala-Gold hoping to soften her up with apologies of his own. In that case, it's better to get rid of him fast before she implodes.

She calls out to whoever it is with a frigid inflection, dropping a small warning that she isn't mentally ready for visitors or in the mood to accept fruitless apologies, and pops the chip into her mouth. Immediately, she's frozen in place when they poke their head inside. Any seething words she has cooked up for Ala-Gold fizzle out.

It isn't a Toad at all.

Various vibrant colors attack and overload her eyesight at once. She blinks rapidly, bewildered by the sight. It's Lemmy Koopa. He's the only Koopaling smaller than her, but if she's remembering what Iggy said correctly; he's older than her by a few years.

Why he'd be here; she hasn't the faintest idea, but she braces herself. Maybe he's come to enact some form of revenge on her or tell her off. He doesn't really seem like the type to do either, but how would she know?

Toadette rapidly comes to the conclusion she wouldn't fight him on the matter either or disagree with any verbal attack he throws at her. She deserves it all anyways. She insulted his little brother after all.

"Hi," Lemmy greets her with an amicable smile as he steps pensively inside. She eyes him suspiciously as he approaches her, his tiny hand extended like some unspoken sign of a truce.

"You might not know my name—"

"Lemmy," Toadette says flatly. "I know all of your names. Did you need something?"

Lemmy doesn't answer. He scoots onto the bench beside her to sit down. Her left eye twitches, she didn't exactly invite him to sit with her. Is every Koopaling unaware of the concept of personal space? No wonder they're at each other's throats so often or maybe that's just the downside of having so many siblings; personal space is nonexistent.

"I hope I'm not being too nosy," Lemmy starts, drumming his hands against his legs. He turns his attention towards her. His eyes are bright, but they carry an unspoken wisdom behind them she cannot decipher. "But did something happen with Iggy?"

She flinches and the small Koopa takes notice, barely narrowing his eyes to gauge her shifting expression. How could he not notice? She isn't exactly subtle. Then again, subtleties are out the window when someone throws such a personal question at her and smashes it to pieces. Still, she scrapes up a feeble attempt to brush it off.

"It's nothing," she breathes out too forcefully.

Lemmy hums a high-note, clearly dubious. His discerning eyes strays towards her kart and she's thankful his gaze is no longer dissecting her like a lab experiment.

"Y'know, Iggy gets quiet when he's really upset. He closes off for days and refuses to talk to anyone; he hasn't said a word in almost two days."

"And it's all because of you," is what Lemmy should say, but he doesn't. He doesn't have to.

All at once, the memories of their argument come crashing back onto her. So contrite and overwhelmed, Toadette tries to blinks back the rush of guilty tears, but ultimately loses the battle. She shoves a handful of chips into her mouth, struggling to swallow the chewed bits past the bulge in her throat.

The salty chips taste stale and she grips the bag tightly as she looks inside of it because meeting Lemmy's gaze would be impossible now. He and Iggy look too much alike. He's a reminder to her stupidity and prejudices and where they've led her.

"I'm a bad person," she admits, voice trembling.

Lemmy rests a hand on her shoulder like he hopes to steady her. Weirdly enough, she doesn't mind the show of comfort from a stranger. Her body doesn't recoil in disgust when the smoothness of his claws meet his skin. Claws that could easily—

Stop it.

"What do you mean?" Lemmy sounds genuinely baffled, but his tone is so soft and reassuring. It makes her last statement harder to believe since he apparently doesn't see any truth in it. If only he could read her thoughts just now. Would he be disappointed or offended?

"I don't deserve his help." Toadette sniffs, sending him a pathetic frown. "I don't deserve to be his garage partner. It's my fault."

"Hey," Lemmy offers her a winning smile, patting her shoulder. "I dunno about that. You don't seem like a bad person."

"I ruined everything." She crinkles up the bags in her hands, turning the chips into crumbs. "He probably hates me now. I don't blame him either."

Lemmy feverishly shakes his head. "I don't think so. Iggy may not have seemed any different to you, but I can tell he was happier." He squeezes her shoulder once before his hand returns to his lap. "I'm glad he was getting along with someone else; he doesn't have many friends."

Lemmy sighs longingly, his head leans against the wall. "Y'see, he doesn't trust people very well and he keeps to himself most of the time. He's pretty unapproachable. But when you let him stay here; he was definitely excited to be wanted even if his actions said otherwise. He enjoys being a sarcastic know-it-all too much."

Toadette sniffs out a little giggle then looks sadly down at her unfinished bag of chips. Lemmy must be who Iggy confides to—or what Luigi said about the kid being a mind reader is all true.

Recently, the two have frequently been seen together in Toad Town during Saturday afternoons. Forging a friendship or some sort, sharing sweets and passing along stories devoid of any hostility. Luigi claimed Lemmy was a master of reading emotions underneath the surface.

At first, she scoffed at the goofiest looking Koopaling being intelligent enough to comprehend anything besides childish topics, but seeing it all in action, she realizes she had once again let her prejudices blind her.

Luigi was right; Lemmy is scarily good at it. After all, Lemmy would know his brother best. His keen eye can pull apart all those layers Iggy coats himself in. If what Lemmy says is true then maybe there is hope in salvaging this… friendship. They were friends, weren't they? No, they are. She needs to fix this because avoiding it and stuffing her face solves nothing. She's only raising her cholesterol.

Toadette curls her fists, suddenly determined. She looks at Lemmy almost pleadingly. "What should I do?"

Lemmy smiles encouragingly. "I may have a few suggestions."

…

Following Lemmy's solid advice, Toadette finds Iggy and his kart crammed into Lemmy's and Ludwig's shared garage, seemingly taking a break as he leans against his kart and yawns widely. As she steps inside, she glances around the foreign garage with interest.

Crammed becomes a severe understatement; Iggy barely has any elbow room when wedged between Ludwig's obnoxious kart and various ostentatious décor and Lemmy's ATV and circus paraphernalia. How he's able to move at all is a mystery to her. Not that Iggy had much of a choice.

Apparently, Roy had taken advantage of his brother's absence and filled in all the extra space with other furniture. Roy proceeded to remodel the garage to fit a couch, a giant speaker, and a flat screen TV; there wasn't room for Iggy anymore.

"Wow, how the tables have turned." Iggy grins when he spots her. His hands rest on his hips and he curves his spine towards her. "Are you coming to poke me with a stick to see when I'll lose it or perhaps you're here just to experience the thrill of being around someone as broken in the head as me? I do charge a fee for photos."

Toadette winces at his self-deprecating words. How many of those words does he actually believe? And they're words that crossed her mind plenty of times without any regret behind them. It feels like he slapped her in the face. She stops in front of him, determined to hold his gaze.

She folds her hands in front of her. "No, I wanted to apologize—"

"You already did that."

His voice is so frigid and devoid of emotions, she unconsciously recoils. His face lights up at this, amused by the effect he has on her. Her eyes travel to the floor and she rubs her arm. So much for maintaining steady eye contact.

"I know, but it wasn't very sincere. I was mean to you and I know I hurt your feelings." The remorse in her voice is palpable.

"You didn't hurt my feelings—" Iggy starts to say, but she shakes her head, raising a hand to cut him off.

"Except I know I did and I'm really sorry. You don't have to be my garage partner anymore, but I had to say something." The smile on her face is weak and apologetic, and she hopes her display of sincerity is enough.

Iggy's hostile glare burns away, eyes widening from puzzlement then the flames return in full force and she's not sure why.

"Lemmy," Iggy growls his brother's name between clenched teeth, puffs of smoke waft from his flared nostrils. She looks at him confused. What does Lemmy have to do with this?

"Lemmy?" she parrots back.

"What did he tell you?" he sneers, standing to his full height. It reminds her of the last time he used his height as an intimidation tactic. He takes a step towards her, glowering intensely down at her like he hopes to scare an answer out of her. She won't give him the satisfaction. Her expression remains neutral.

"Did he tell you that I was sad or something?" Iggy laughs coldly, disregarding the notion with a shake of his head. "Like I said before: it doesn't bother me. I'm used to it."

Toadette recalls Lemmy's advice. Instead of shriveling away or backing down, she puffs out her cheeks, stomping her foot defiantly. It works, he blinks, taken back, not expecting it.

"And like I said before: you shouldn't be!" she argues. "You're not as awful as you seem to think you are! You're actually a pretty decent garage partner." She places her hands on her hips, annoyed. "Do you accept my apology or not?"

He narrows his eyes, skeptical of her intentions. Then his callous disposition disperses, eyes slowly expanding when he can't find any faults in her apology. Quickly rushing in to take its place is a coy smile then, like the unpredictable Koopa that he is, he's laughing at her, clutching his stomach. She fumes.

"Why are you laughing? I'm being as sincere as possible right now!" she whines, face flushing from anger.

He snorts out a giggle, gleefully hiding his grin behind his curled claws pressed against his mouth, his tail wags furiously behind him. "You claim you're being sincere and yet you're yelling at me to accept your apology. You're hilariously contradicting."

Toadette huffs. "Because you're being difficult."

His laughter subsides as he takes another step towards her. Now there's barely a foot between them. He's testing her, seeing if she'll step back or stand her ground. She doesn't budge an inch, cocking her head as she waits with bated breath for him to react.

He grins, draping a hand over his heart, leaning forward in a mock bow. Now they're properly face to face. "Does this mean you still require my lovely assistance with your kart?"

"I—" she ponders for a moment, recalling Lemmy's advice on being assertive with Iggy. "I think you need my help more; there's barely any room in here!" She gestures madly with her arms to the cramped garage. "So pack up your stuff and let's go already! We're wasting time!"

She doesn't see his expression as she turns on her heels, pigtails most likely almost whacking him in the face. She stomps over to his neon green tool box and grabs the handle. She hears him snort as she struggles to lift the hefty thing.

"Are all Toads this pushy?" he teases dryly behind her, lifting it with ease. Toadette momentarily pouts; curse her tiny arms for making her look fragile and weak.

"Are all Koopas this stubborn?" she fires back, glaring over her shoulder at him.

Together, they begin to gather his things. She helps carry what she can. Granted, she's probably not much help due to her extremely smaller stature and noodle arms, but she hopes he appreciates the thought. By the humorous glint he casts her whenever she fails to lift something, it seems he finds it more hilarious than endearing.

During their back and forth parade of parts and tools, Ludwig and Lemmy happen to be in their designated spots when they return for another handful. Ludwig's baffled expression when he spots her waddling into his garage followed by a round of badly suppressed chortles from Iggy is priceless.

Ludwig blinks at them, dumbfounded and lost. He desperately turns to his shorter brother to gauge his reaction like he cannot comprehend what's happening in front of him. Lemmy smiles knowingly, but gives away absolutely nothing, shrugging as he sticks more decals onto his very colorful ATV.

She's grateful for Lemmy's fake innocence because when she breezes past a speechless, gawking Ludwig, her head held high, she feels a surge of confidence at having caught the arrogant Koopaling so off guard for once.

Iggy's wild cackling when they're safely in her garage tells her that he feels the same wicked little thrill. They mock his eldest brother whenever they're dropping off supplies in her garage until they're both red in the face and wheezing. Then they attempt to not laugh in Ludwig's face when they have to make the trip back for more things.

When they successfully transport all his stuff (including the radio), Iggy eagerly returns to his work like he never left. There's only a handful of weeks left before the tournament begins and they should both get back to work. Instead of doing just that, Toadette chooses to chew her lip still feeling the hollowness of guilt in her heart as she watches him.

She had done it. They're on good terms again, but why does it still feel like it isn't enough? Lemmy's approach had been more abrasive, and she didn't believe it would work, but his plan worked flawlessly. Still, she can't let this go just yet. She needs to apologize again using her own more personal, more touchy-feely methods.

With that in mind, she slowly scuttles over to Iggy with intent in her eyes and small steps. He notices her approach, studying her with confusion painted all over his face as his wrench stops.

"What are you doing?" he questions, quirking a corner of his mouth like he expects a joke or something funny.

She lets a shaky breath breeze past her lips, sounding almost like a nervous laugh. She cautiously sets a hand over his resting on his kart and he nearly jerks it back like the contact burns him. He appears upset? Perturbed? She can't place a name on it.

"I used to think all those horrible things about you," Toadette admits solemnly. She squeezes his hand and a grin slowly blooms on her face. "But not anymore."

She grants him back his personal space and leaves him with a sweet smile and the lingering warmth of her little hand. She returns to her side of the garage, finally content now that everything is how it should be. She can't stop herself from humming and swaying to the bouncy song playing on the radio.

Guys, if this ain't up to par and has some mistakes… I finished this while wrestling with Covid and a high fever I didn't even know I had until a thermometer was forced into my mouth. I reread it, but I'm not 100% yet.

I'm doing alright right now. I can't eat much or I get sick, I get winded at walking to the potty, and standing makes me woozy, but we're getting there. Time to down some NyQuil and pass out. Woo.