One Complete Heart

December 18th

There was no path, but he knew exactly where he was going. He had only been there once before, but he had the way memorized. He walked up a slight incline until he saw the same lodge where he first learned of how dire Luigi's condition really was. Before, the run-down building didn't make him feel so cold, but now it felt as if he was walking to his death. He could practically feel the spirits as they cried, trapped within the walls. Maybe it really was haunted.  He couldn't turn back, though. He wasn't going to.

"Dimentio, stop!" Luigi begged, sprinting to catch up. Dimentio was hoping Mario would slow him down and give him at least a few more minutes of a head start, but Luigi was determined. Dimentio didn't expect much less from him.

Dimentio didn't turn to look at him. He couldn't bring himself to look into Luigi's glassy, devastated eyes anymore. Not now, not after learning all the pain Luigi had been feeling for months was his own fault. Not after learning that the only reason he cared was because Luigi's heart was the one beating in his chest, not his own.

"You're really doing this?" Luigi asked from behind him, his voice shaking.

Dimentio quickened his pace slightly until he came face to face with the old lodge. He placed his hand on the door, feeling the rough, rotting wood through his torn gloves and beneath his fingertips. The cool and crisp air surrounded him, covering his body in chills.

"No one would miss me."

"That's not true!" Luigi begged, grasping his shoulder harshly and forcing Dimentio to turn his back on the lodge and face him. "I would!"

Dimentio shook his head, keeping his head low to avoid Luigi's gaze. He tried to prevent his body from trembling, but the fear and the cold fought against his best efforts.

He wasn't going to be scared of the dark anymore, though. He wasn't going to be scared of dying. He wasn't going to be scared of the end. He was always a broken person anyway. From the moment he was thrown to the streets as a young boy with nothing but a thin blanket to keep him warm during the winter, he had always been broken and unimportant.

"We'll meet again," Dimentio said. He didn't believe a word he was speaking, but that didn't matter. He wasn't trying to be honest. The words' purpose was to just give Luigi at least a little comfort. "We'll be together again. Our paths are just... going in different directions right now."

It was Luigi's heart talking. Dimentio could tell. Luigi could tell.

Dimentio wondered what his own heart would say. 

"Don't do this," Luigi begged. "Don't go into the dark. Don't... we can find another way through this. Or, we can fail, and I can stand in the dark alone. I'll do it for you! I don't care! I can't... this is my fault, and I can't let it be my fault."

"It's not your fault," Dimentio said.

Count Bleck's fault? Count Bleck's father's fault? Dimentio's fault? It didn't matter. Placing blame wouldn't fix anything.

"Please, Dimentio," Luigi cried. "I... don't want this to end. Please. I... feel complete when I'm with you. I feel alive again. I feel happy and scared and excited and just so alive!"

"You only think that because I have your heart," Dimentio stated, keeping his voice soft. That was the reason for everything. The reason Luigi stayed close, the reason he took him places, it was all so he could be closer to his own heart. None of it was real.

"No," Luigi said, shaking his head. "No, that's not it."

Dimentio shivered as a cold breeze blew past them, then found the strength to look up into Luigi's eyes.