Another day passed as Junior meandered aimlessly around his parents' empty getaway home. The small supply of edible food in the kitchen had long since been depleted, and now Junior had to grapple with the growing hunger pains that were forming in his stomach and growing in power as they sapped him of his strength. This was a battle he was only continuing to lose as the hours went by. There wasn't enough wood left in the pile in the other room to start another fire. The days were warm enough to keep the house inhabitable, but Junior was confident that he simply could not stay here another night. Tonight, he would have to sleep somewhere else or risk freezing to death yet again.
Junior's hands and feet were gradually turning red and growing increasingly numb from the unforgiving cold of the evenings. The Koopa Prince resolved to wrap them in athletic tape, which he found in a first aid kit in the closet. He was no medical expert, so Junior was confident that athletic tape was hardly an ideal cure for frostbite. But leaving his fingers and toes completely exposed wasn't helping either, so this solution was better than nothing as far as he was concerned. It was the best he could do at the moment since Junior was too ashamed to seek out medical assistance at the castle.
If Bowser were here, he would've probably had a better idea for frostbite treatment. After all, he seemed to know exactly how to take care of his son the last time the two of them were here. Junior fondly remembered the evening he and his father spent in this house together all those years ago; bending Junior's fractured arm back into place and putting it in a makeshift cast, spoon-feeding him that delicious jerky and dried shroom soup, comforting Junior emotionally and chasing away his doubts and regrets, and later tucking him into bed by the fireplace. Sure, the rest of that journey that had brought them here may have been a headache to reflect upon. But for Junior, that single night he spent with his father in this house was a good memory. It was the last one he could fondly remember, and it was sadly over a decade ago.
It hurt Junior to move any parts of his body at all. He was bruised and sore from the exam the other day. His cuts stung, and his bruises made it next to impossible to rest in any number of positions. Junior couldn't go on like this forever; cold, hurt, hungry and alone. But he just couldn't bring himself to go home either. His broken spirit was the most painful part to deal with in all of this. His body was screaming for Junior to go home, but his mind just couldn't justify it. The Koopa Prince was trapped in a never-ending war with himself. He was convinced that this was a necessary suffering. But what kind of person would he be if he ever managed to overcome it?
Shuffling and shifting uncomfortably on the dusty wooden floor, Junior abandoned his efforts to rest and resolved to get up. But that last part was easier said than done. Junior winced as his wounds brushed against the floor while the prince twisted, rolled and floundered about. Every time a bruise made contact with the surface beneath him, Junior immediately jolted the corresponding part of his body back in retaliation the pain. Getting up on his own was practically impossible at this point. But there was no one around to help him either. Eventually, Junior managed to roll over onto his stomach. He began to crawl on his hands and knees over towards the wall nearby and reached up for the object resting against it.
It was his magic paint brush; the only trustworthy companion the Koopa Prince had left. This deceptively simple paintbrush had fully embraced Junior's wildest fantasies over the years and always managed to make his dreams come true. Anywhere Junior wanted to go; anywhere at all, he could. By simply painting a portal on just about any solid surface and hopping in, the Koopa Prince could take himself wherever his heart desired in an instant. The brush was how he'd managed to make Mario's life such a living hell back on Isle Delfino, and now it had helped him escape here to the getaway home when Junior needed to run away from his father's castle in shame. The magic paintbrush never judged Junior for what he was feeling whenever he used it. The brush never questioned him. It had no sense of right or wrong. It was eternally obedient and loyal to Junior alone. It would never work in the hands of anyone other than its original master. The paintbrush offered Junior a comfortable sense of freedom and escape that was rivaled only by his childhood bandanna.
Junior gripped the paintbrush and used it to hoist himself up to his feet. Once there, the Koopa Prince proceeded to lean on the brush as a makeshift cane and use it to aid him as he limped around the house. The rhythmic tap of the brush's plastic tip coming into contact with the floorboards was a simple sound, but it pierced through the eerie silence of the house in a way that comforted Junior and made him feel less alone and as less of a solitary prisoner to his crippling thoughts.
Junior wandered into the storage room of the house where the pile of firewood once resided before it had been depleted. The Koopa Prince began to haphazardly browse through the contents of the boxes scattered all about the space. He was desperate to find anything to get his mind off of his injuries and immense hunger. The boxes seemed to be packed to the brim with useless junk from Bowser's past. Junior found a plethora of obscure knick-knacks, photos of unfamiliar faces, souvenirs of foreign places and mementos that held no meaning to him. Junior didn't know what he was looking for, nor was he confident that anything he did manage to find here would prove valuable to him. Yet he continued to browse.
The Koopa Prince found a new sense of direction in his search when he discovered a section of boxes all sharing the same written label: Celia.
"Who's….'Celia?'" Junior pondered.
He himself didn't know anyone named Celia so she had to be someone his father knew, and someone important at that if he had been hanging on to her stuff all this time. But who was she? Bowser's mother? His sister? A childhood friend? An ex-girlfriend? Perhaps she was related to Junior himself instead and he just never met her. Maybe she was his cousin, a babysitter, or even a teacher or pediatrician. Whoever she was, Junior was determined to learn more about her now. After all, it wasn't like he had anything more important to be doing at the moment anyway.
He used his claw to cut through the tape and open the box at the top of the first stack. Like Bowser's belongings, the box was mostly filled with niche trinkets and objects Junior couldn't begin to perceive any value in. There didn't appear to be anything in here that gave any indication of who exactly this Celia person was or why her stuff was here in Bowser's house. Junior quickly abandoned the box and repeated his search in another, then another. His heart practically stopped when he found a photo album at the bottom of one box in particular. The book's front cover, back cover and spine were all protected with a leather material. On the front, something was written in a golden cursive font. The album was titled Mr. and Mrs. Koopa.
The cogs began to turn in Junior's brain. He flipped open the album and stared intensely at the contents within. Each page was a laminated collection of grainy, sepia tone photos that appeared to be taken decades ago. Each picture featured a much younger, slimmer Bowser. Some depicted him with stubble growing on his then less-prominent chin, and others with a full-on red goatee. His horns were slightly less sharp than Junior knew them to be now, and Bowser's hair and eyebrows seemed less bushy as well somehow as if they hadn't quite finished growing to full length. Junior almost didn't recognize his father at first because of how genuinely happy Bowser seemed to be in these photos. He was grinning widely from cheek to cheek and his eyes seemed to be full of so much more life. Junior couldn't recall ever seeing Bowser as happy in the 18 years he'd been alive as the Koopa King appeared to be in these pictures. What happened to him to turn Bowser into the perpetual grouch Junior recalled growing up with?
After a few pages, the photo album shifted from pictures of only Bowser to an unfamiliar, red-haired woman instead. Junior gathered that this woman was Celia, though her relation to Bowser wasn't yet clear. She was a beautiful young woman with just as much life in her emerald eyes as Bowser. Judging from her attire in the pictures, Celia was royalty of some kind as she was constantly dawning lavish gowns and a crown atop her head. Towards the end of the album, Junior found the section he needed to answer his lingering questions. He stumbled upon a photo of Bowser and Celia standing closely together. They were each dressed in some kind of battle armor. But more importantly, the photo had been taken outside in front of a lone cottage near the ocean. Junior's eyes lit up.
This photo of Bowser and Celia was taken in front of the getaway home!
He had a theory now, but he still needed more evidence to confirm it. Frantically flipping through the next set of pages, Junior saw nothing but pictures of Bowser and Celia together in more romantic settings; one of which looked as though the two were getting married as Bowser was wearing a tight-fitting tuxedo and Celia a long, white bridal gown. On the second-to-last page, the Koopa Prince found a photo of Bowser hunched over Celia, who was resting in a bed. She looked exhausted, yet still content. In her arms, Celia was cradling a tiny, sleeping infant Koopa wrapped in a blanket in her arms. Suddenly, it all made sense.
"Celia…is my mom..."
Talking to himself was the only way he could think to process this discovery. He definitely recognized Celia now, but the more he stared at her pictures, the emptier Junior felt. He face fell. He should've been happy that he had just remembered the face of his mother after all this time. But he wasn't. The Koopa Prince's eyes began to water as he realized that he couldn't remember anything more about her. After all, she had passed away when he was only three years old.
Any time before that was impossible for Junior to remember since his mind hadn't fully developed yet back then. She had been absent for the majority of his life. Junior wracked his brain as he desperately tried to pull out any long-forgotten memories that might be tucked away in the corners of his mind. But nothing came. The only memory that did return was one he wasn't proud of now in the slightest.
Junior recalled a dark and stormy afternoon. Celia had just fallen asleep in her bed as a candle burned on the nightstand at her side. She was barely caressing a small red rose in her then lifeless fingers. Bowser was glued to her side as tears flowed like bathwater from his eyes. He was weeping and the three-year old Junior didn't understand why. He never fully would. The little Koopa watched as the light and spirit died in his father's eyes. It was as if a large storm cloud materialized over Bowser's head at that moment, and it intended to loom there for the rest of his life.
Junior vaguely remembered his first moment alone in his bedroom later that day when he was trapped in his own, broken-hearted solitude. As his own tears rolled down his cheeks, Junior had resolved then that he never wanted to feel this way again. It hurt too much. He never wanted anyone to see him crying like this. He couldn't. These tears were useless. They couldn't bring his mother back. They couldn't wake her up. So what good were they? They only made him look weak.
Remembering his mother made him weak.
He could never think about her again. He had to replace her with thoughts only of himself and how to get what he wanted out of his life; how to find strength. Junior remembered seeing his father act like such a tyrant; yelling and getting physically violent with others; blowing fire and throwing tantrums. Bowser never cried again. He only scowled and glared and bullied anyone and everyone around him. That was true strength. It had to be. Junior had to be just like that.
Junior was ashamed of remembering this moment. He was ashamed of throwing away what little memory he had of his mother back then. Looking at these pictures now, Junior felt nothing.
But he longed to feel everything.
He wanted to remember everything about her, but it was too late now. It had been too late for a long time. Junior couldn't decide if it was right for him to be angry towards Bowser or not for talking as little about Celia with him as he did. Hell, he had never bothered to tell Junior his mother's real name before this. He had to learn that on his own. It would be easy for Junior to drown himself in even more anger and resentment towards Bowser. Between pushing him with all of the king training, neglecting him for ten years to serve on the Kingdom Council, and now all these years of serving as a bad emotional role model, Junior had more than enough reason to confront Bowser and give him a piece of his mind.
But…he couldn't. Somehow that just seemed impossible now. Junior wouldn't have the energy to yell at Bowser if he had the chance to do so right this moment. He was too sore, too hungry, too cold, and too tired. On top of all that, this memory was too painful. Even after all these years, it hurt Junior too much to think about his late mother. He never learned how to accept her death; how to find reasons to smile in each new day without his mother around; how to remember her name or her face without drowning in immense sadness or tears.
Right now Junior just wanted to talk to Bowser more than anything; like a civilized adult. Junior wanted to ask him questions. How much did he remember about Celia? How much could he help Junior remember? Why did Bowser treat Celia as such an unspeakable taboo for all of these years? Could all of that change now that Junior was an adult? Junior himself was more than willing to try. If nothing else, his mother could be a way for Junior and Bowser to get back on speaking terms again without having to address the elephant in the room of the failed exam.
Glancing out the window, the Koopa Prince caught a glimpse of the sun beginning to set. Nightfall was coming soon. The unforgiving cold was upon him. Junior couldn't sleep here another night. That much was clear to him now. That was the only thing in his troubled mess of a mind that he understood. Junior retrieved his paint brush and returned to the main room of the getaway home. He examined the wall, then began to paint a large circle. The drawing came to life in a glorious light. The Koopa Prince stared through the portal to Bowser's castle his artwork had created.
Junior wasn't ready to come home yet. But he knew he had to. There was too much troubling him right now. Drowning himself in all of these foreign memories of his parents as he froze and starved to death was pointless. Junior longed for a warm bath, a tasty meal and a hug right now. Maybe those things alone would make all of his suffering just a bit more bearable. It was worth a try. Junior gripped his paintbrush tightly. Mustering the last ounce of strength he had left, he hopped through the portal before it disappeared behind him.