The tale of the misfortune

The afternoon sun filtered through the stained-glass windows of the Mushroom Kingdom’s newest castle, casting long, colorful shadows across the velvet carpet. It was a rare moment of serenity. The air was devoid of the smell of burning spaghetti, the sound of random explosions, or the high-pitched, nonsensical screeching that usually defined their lives.

Mario was gone for the day. He had claimed he was going on a "very important quest," which everyone secretly hoped meant he was just stuck in a pipe somewhere, giving them a few hours of much-needed silence.

On the massive, plush sofa, the crew was sprawled out in various states of lethargy. SMG4 was scrolling through his phone, looking for meme inspiration that didn’t involve a lawsuit. Meggy was polishing her Splattershot, though her movements were slow and relaxed. Tari was focused on her handheld game, while Saiko leaned back with her eyes closed, listening to music. Melony, as usual, was fast asleep, her head resting on a decorative pillow, clutching her sword loosely.

"You know," SMG4 remarked, breaking the silence with a satisfied sigh. "It’s actually… peaceful. I forgot what 'peaceful' felt like."

"Tell me about it," Meggy replied, stretching her arms above her head. "I love Red, but man, he’s a lot of work. It’s nice to just be 'us' for a second without a disaster happening."

Luigi sat on the edge of the armchair, wringing his gloved hands. He offered a weak, nervous smile. "Yeah. It’s… it’s quiet."

Suddenly, the massive television mounted on the wall flickered to life. The screen didn't show the usual static or a bright Nintendo logo. Instead, it glowed with a grainy, sepia-toned hue.

Everyone sat up, their relaxation evaporating instantly.

"SMG4, did you turn that on?" Bob asked, poking his head out from behind a curtain.

"No, I don't even have the remote," SMG4 muttered, squinting at the screen.

The image sharpened. It was a recording, but the quality was ancient. It showed a small, cramped kitchen. In the center of the frame stood a very small child—a toddler with a familiar red cap that was far too large for his head. It was a tiny Mario.

Luigi’s face went pale. His breath hitched in his throat, his eyes widening as he recognized the wallpaper of their childhood home. He wanted to reach for the remote, to turn it off, to hide the secrets of the past, but his muscles were locked in a state of sheer paralysis.

On the screen, a shadow loomed over the little Mario. It was a massive, imposing figure. They couldn't see the face, but the voice that erupted from the speakers was like a physical blow. It was a roaring, thunderous bass, dripping with a terrifying, drunken rage.

"You worthless brat!" the voice of Mario’s father bellowed. "Can't you do anything right? You're a drain on this family!"

The little Mario on the screen didn't fight back. He didn't make a joke. He simply curled into a ball, his tiny hands over his ears. Then, the screaming started. It wasn't the comedic, over-the-top screaming they were used to from the adult Mario. These were the raw, gut-wrenching screams of a child in genuine agony and absolute terror.

The sound of a heavy belt snapping echoed through the room.

"Oh my god," Tari whispered, her hands flying to her mouth. Her robotic eye flickered rapidly as her processors struggled to handle the distress of the audio.

"Turn it off!" Meggy shouted, her voice cracking. "SMG4, turn it off right now!"

SMG4 scrambled for the remote, jamming the power button, but the TV ignored him. It was as if the castle itself wanted them to watch.

The footage began to fast-forward, a grim montage of a life lived in the dark. They saw Mario as a young boy, sitting alone in a corner while other children played. They saw him at school, his eyes downcast, the light slowly draining from them year after year. The vibrant, chaotic energy they knew him for was nowhere to be found. In its place was a hollow shell, a boy who looked like he was waiting for the next blow to fall.

"He was always so… sad," Saiko muttered, her usual tough exterior crumbling. She looked at Luigi. "Luigi, did you know about this?"

Luigi couldn't speak. He just stared at the floor, hot tears streaming down his face. He had been the younger brother; he had been protected. Mario had taken the brunt of it so Luigi wouldn't have to.

The screen shifted again. The quality improved, moving into the era they recognized. It showed Mario in the castle gardens, years ago. He was sitting by himself, away from the others. In his lap, he held a simple, uncarved melon.

The crew watched in a stunned silence as the Mario on screen gently stroked the green rind. He looked at the fruit with a tenderness they had rarely seen him direct toward anything other than a plate of pasta.

"Don't worry," the on-screen Mario whispered, his voice cracking with a vulnerability that made SMG4’s heart ache. "I’ll take care of you. You’re my best friend. I’ll call you… Melony."

He pulled the melon into a tight hug, resting his chin on top of it. "I won't let anyone hurt you. I promise."

On the sofa, Melony’s eyes snapped open. She wasn't groggy. She wasn't tired. She had heard everything. She stared at the screen, her gaze fixed on the man who had cared for her before she even had a soul, before the Fierce Deity mask had given her a human form. She saw the pure, unconditional love in his eyes—a love born from a man who had been denied it his entire life.

But the video wasn't finished.

The tone shifted abruptly. The music—a low, somber cello—turned discordant and harsh. The screen began to play a highlight reel of the last few years.

It wasn't a hero's journey. It was a compilation of "comedy."

They saw themselves. They saw SMG4 kicking Mario out of a window for a minor inconvenience. They saw Saiko slamming him through a wall. They saw Meggy screaming at him, calling him a moron and an idiot during training. They saw the countless times they had used him as a meat shield, a punching bag, or the butt of a cruel joke.

They saw the look on Mario’s face in the split second after the "joke" ended—a fleeting moment of profound hurt that he quickly covered up with a goofy grin and a "Wahoo!"

The screen went black.

The silence in the room was suffocating. The guilt was a physical weight, pressing down on their chests. SMG4 stared at his hands, the same hands that had animated countless scenarios where Mario was tortured for views. Meggy looked at her Splattershot with a sense of loathing, remembering all the times she had lost her temper with the man who had quite literally saved the world for her.

"We…" Tari started, her voice trembling. "We were just like them. We were just like his father."

"Don't you dare say that," Saiko snapped, though there was no heat in it. She looked sick. "We're his friends. We're supposed to be his family."

"Are we?"

The voice was cold. It didn't sound like the sleepy, innocent Melony they knew.

Melony stood up slowly. Her hair seemed to shimmer with a faint, dangerous light. She didn't look at the TV; she looked directly at the crew. Her eyes, usually wide and curious, were narrowed into slits of emerald fire.

"Melony, we didn't know," SMG4 pleaded, holding up his hands. "We thought he was… you know, he’s Mario! He’s indestructible! He always bounces back!"

"He bounces back because he has to," Melony said, her voice echoing with an unnatural resonance. She took a step toward them, and the air in the room grew cold. "He spent his whole life being broken. He learned how to hide the pieces so you wouldn't have to look at them."

She turned her gaze to Meggy. "You called him a burden. You told him he was the reason we failed during the Splatfest practices. You knew he wasn't smart, but you treated him like he was worthless because of it."

Meggy flinched as if she’d been struck. "Melony, I—"

"And you," Melony said, pointing at SMG4. "You treat him like a tool. A prop for your videos. You let him get hurt over and over because it’s 'funny.' You saw him as a character, not a person."

SMG4 opened his mouth to defend himself, but the words died in his throat. He looked at the black screen and remembered the thousands of times he had "reset" Mario’s pain for a gag.

"Bob, Boopkins, Saiko," Melony continued, her voice rising in power. "You all laughed. You all kicked him when he was down because it was easier than helping him up. You took the one person who gave everything—who gave me life—and you treated him like trash."

"Melony, please," Tari sobbed, reaching out. "We love him! We do!"

"Then why did I just see a hundred videos of you all hurting him?" Melony demanded. Her hand went to the hilt of her sword. She didn't draw it, but the threat was there. "He loved that melon because it was the only thing that didn't scream at him. It was the only thing that didn't hit him. He created me out of a need for something kind in his life, and I woke up into a world where his 'friends' are his biggest bullies."

She looked over at Luigi, who was still curled in the armchair, weeping silently. Her expression softened for a fraction of a second. "Luigi is the only one who gets to stay in this room."

She turned back to the rest of the crew, her face hardening into a mask of divine judgment.

"The rest of you… get out."

"Melony, it's my castle," SMG4 said weakly.

"I don't care," she whispered, and the floorboards beneath her feet began to crack. A surge of energy rippled through the room, blowing the curtains back. "Get out before I make you feel exactly what he felt on that screen."

No one argued. The raw, unfiltered fury of a goddess was not something they were prepared to face, especially not when they knew she was right. One by one, they stood up and shuffled toward the door, their heads hanging low.

Meggy was the last to leave. She paused at the threshold, looking back at the dark television. "We… we have to fix this, Melony. We have to make it up to him."

"You can start by never calling him an idiot again," Melony replied, her back turned to them.

As the heavy oak doors clicked shut, leaving only Melony and Luigi in the room, the goddess finally let her shoulders drop. The glow faded, replaced by a heavy, aching sadness. She walked over to Luigi and sat on the floor by his feet, resting her head against his knee.

"He never told me," Luigi whispered, his voice thick with grief. "He told me he had it handled. He told me Papa was just 'grumpy.'"

"He wanted you to be happy, Luigi," Melony said softly. "That’s all he ever wants. For everyone to be happy, even if it costs him everything."

They sat in silence for a long time, watching the sun dip below the horizon. The castle was quiet again, but it wasn't the peaceful silence from before. It was a heavy, expectant silence.

Hours later, the front doors of the castle creaked open.

"Mamaf**ker! I'm-a back!"

Mario’s voice echoed through the hallway, loud and obnoxious as ever. He stumbled into the main room, covered in mud and carrying a bag of half-eaten tacos. He stopped when he saw Melony and Luigi sitting in the dim light.

"Hey! Why is it so dark in here?" Mario asked, tilting his head. "Did SMG4 forget to pay the power bill again? That cheapskate."

He walked over to them, grinning his usual wide, toothy grin. "You guys okay? You look like you saw a ghost. Or worse… a salad!"

Luigi stood up and immediately threw his arms around his brother, sobbing into his shoulder.

Mario blinked, looking confused. He awkwardly patted Luigi’s back. "Whoa, easy there, Weegee! Did you watch a sad movie? Was it the one with the dog? I told you not to watch the dog movie!"

Melony stood up and walked over to him. She didn't say a word. She simply reached out and took his hand, squeezing it tightly.

Mario looked from his brother to Melony, his grin faltering for just a second. He saw the way they were looking at him—not with annoyance, not with exasperation, but with a profound, painful amount of love.

He knew. He saw the TV was still plugged in. He saw the look in their eyes.

The mask didn't slip, but for the first time, the "Wahoo" felt a little quieter.

"Hey," Mario said softly, his voice dropping an octave. "It’s okay. I'm-a Mario. I’m always okay."

"No, you're not," Melony said, her voice firm. "But you're going to be."

Outside the door, hidden in the shadows of the hallway, the rest of the crew listened. They heard Mario start to tell a ridiculous story about a Goomba he met, trying to make Luigi laugh. They heard the forced cheerfulness in his voice, the armor he had worn for thirty years.

SMG4 leaned his head against the stone wall, a single tear tracking through the dust on his cheek. He looked at the others—Meggy, Saiko, Tari, Boopkins, and Bob. They all shared the same silent vow.

The "comedy" was over. It was time to start being a real family.