Sakon blinked at the brilliant morning sun. He had definitely caught some sort of bacterial infection from that fish. His bowels had kept him up most of the night, so he slept well into the morning. That meant he had very little time today to get up to no good.

He failed to suppress a grumble. Why was it so accursedly bright out? He took back everything he said about the humidity. He preferred the humidity. Right now, it felt as though lasers were shooting directly into his brain. Shielding his eyes from the ridiculously bright light, he squinted up into the blue sky. A grinning chunk of rock leered back at him. Either his eyes was playing tricks on him, or the moon was definitely looking a little bit closer today.

Oh, well. Another day, another dawn. With any bit of luck, he would get much better results out of today than he did out of yesterday. Sakon set off down the track with noticably less of a pep in his step than the morning previous.


Today, Sakon decided to enter Clock Town from the southern gate. The pretentious would-be poet at the eastern gate was a bit too familiar with Sakon for his liking, and even Sakon wouldn't risk the northern gate again (no matter how much of a buffoon dear Paloon was).

The buzzing festivities of the Clock Town square greeted him. That statement was a bit of humour on Sakon's part. There was nothing buzzing about the square, although it could be argued that the limp banners draped from building to building were an attempt at festivity. The grungy decorations were just made all the more pathetic by the heavy clouds hanging over the town. The number of carpenters working on the carnival centrepiece had almost halved since yesterday. One man carried a wooden beam around the top of the structure, while another shouted abuse at him from the ground. A third stood at the eastern end of the square, taking a long lunch. He occasionally spat at a recruitment poster for the Clock Town unit. Sakon chuckled, sharing in the sentiment. Other than that, the only thing in the square that had remained from yesterday was a filthy little terrier, which was now gnawing at Sakon's shoes. His expression soured.

"Come off it, you mutt," he grunted, kicking at the dog. The rabid little beast yelped upon contact, hopping away and whimpering. Sakon couldn't help his mouth curling into a little smile of self-satisfaction at the sight. As he watched the fleabag run off to some far corner of the square, he couldn't help but think that today might not turn out to be so bad after all.

Today would be spent strolling around town, possibly picking up on any potential targets. Seeing as there was only about a day left until the carnival, Clock Town should have been crawling with suckers. Sakon decided to take a walk along the east side of town to pick the pockets of any idiots bothering to stay at the inn.

The lilting music from Honey and Darling's Sickeningly Lovey-Dovey Game Hut told him a game was on as he strolled into the east side. He chuckled. Someone was getting ripped off, it seemed, and not by him. He had seen countless people come storming out of there, tearing at their hair and cursing the embarassingly affectionate couple. Though, the two did offer some decent prizes if a challenger did manage to win. He would keep the place in mind later, after he found a few decent targets to rob. He rubbed his hands together as he imagined the countless fat purses that would await him just around the corner - he would be like a child in a candy store. No one would see him coming. Today would definitely be a good day.

Then he turned the corner, and stopped.

The street was deserted.

No, that was wrong. The street wasn't deserted. The juggling brothers were still there, and so was one of those Bottom boys, or whatever they were called. The snot-nosed brat glared suspiciously at Sakon as he dumbly surveyed the street.

This was ridiculous. Where were all the fools? Where were Sakon's herd?

Where was all the money?

Sakon reasoned with himself. No, it was early in the day. Early-ish. The people would arrive this evening. They had to. Yes, this was fine. By this time tomorrow, Clock Town would be stuffed to the rafters with merrymakers and rich simpletons. Sakon would be fine.

But the leering chunk of rock overhead that had been lingering at the edge of his attention all day suddenly seemed a lot less... unthreatening. Slowly, he turned his attention to the sky. The moon was even closer than it had been that morning. If Sakon was to climb to the top of the Clock Tower, he would be able to hit it with a rock, if he threw hard enough. He gulped, a horrible little idea slowly dragging itself to the forefront of his mind.

What if the moon was falling?

He reasoned. He wheedled. But he kept coming back to the same conclusion, over and over. Yes, the residents of Clock Town weren't the brightest bunch. If someone told them the sea was made of milk, a good percentage of them would probably believe it. But the fact was that not a single tourist was milling about, and the tourists tended to be a bit more savvy. Of a better stock, to put it mildly. It was usually the well-travelled tourists who were better able to distinguish fact from fad.

And if the tourists were keeping away... maybe that meant that there might be a threat after all.

His dark daydreams were suddenly broken through by the creaking of a door. All thoughts of the moon falling were banished from Sakon's mind as he remembered the game hut's lucky winner. He felt a familiar itch in his fingers, and turned around to check what he was up against. As soon as he did, however, he barely stifled a shriek.

It was him! That brat in green! The bane of his life over the last two days! The twerp was shutting the door to the game hut behind him, while calls of "congratulations!" came from within. Sakon didn't even want to think about what might happen if the child spotted him. In a panic, he looked around for somewhere to hide, and his eyes came to rest upon a small wooden box by one of the flagpoles. Without a second thought, he dove in.

It was a very tight fit - he would have a hard time believing anyone larger than a Blobber boy could fit in it - but he just about squashed himself inside. He held his breath. For a while, he couldn't hear anything, other than the footsteps of the other three idiots in the street. His head was tucked somewhere beneath his posterior. With great effort, he twisted his neck until he could see outside through a small slit in the box.

The boy was still standing outside the game hut, just not doing anything. Sakon became antsy. Why wasn't he doing anything? Had he seen him? Sweat poured down the back of his neck. He desperately wished the boy would just end the torture and do something.

Minutes passed.

Those oblivious juggling brothers kept telling hilariously unfunny jokes as they practiced their routine.

"Hey, did you hear, did you hear?"

"What is it, what is it?"

"It sounds like all of Termina's troubles have just disappeared overnight! The swamps have turned clear, spring has returned to Snowhead, the scary-wary fog in the Great Bay is gone, and I even heard that the spirits in Ikana Canyon have been laid to rest!"

"Oh ho ho ho! If only the same could be said for Clock Town! That moon's gonna come down harder than dear Mama on laundry day, my clumsy brother! Looks like its curtains for us!"

"Oh ho ho ho!"

"Oh ho ho ho!"

That wasn't even a joke, you idiots, he thought to himself as he restlessly observed the boy. He still hadn't moved a muscle. Sakon was considering slowly inching the box to safety, but then the boy suddenly moved. Sakon seized up as the boy produced an ocarina from seemingly nowhere and held it up to his lips, and squinted in confusion as he began to play.

After the boy had hesitantly tooted out a song that Sakon had never heard before, there was a second or so of silence. Then, a full-on invisible orchestra seemed to erupt from nowhere as the boy played the song again in full. Violins, harps, lyres - all of them were suddenly accompanying the boy's song at full blast, getting faster and faster. The noise startled Sakon so much that he jerked. The sudden movement proved to be too much for the box's flimsy walls, and so it burst. Sakon found himself sitting out in the open.

He was like a rabbit caught in headlights. He stared in horror at the boy, fully expecting the brat to come charging over and slice his head off. However, the boy's eyes remained closed as he finished his performance. All Sakon could do was watch in wonder as the last strains of the song faded into echoes.

Then the boy opened his eyes and looked right at Sakon.

Sakon blinked. The situation then dawned on him, and he was fully prepared to make full use of his running abilities to leg it as far away as he possibly could.

Before he could, though, the strangest thing happened. Wings suddenly erupted from the boy's back. They enveloped his body, forming a small cocoon, which began to spin around. It gained speed, spinning faster and faster until Sakon felt dizzy just watching it. Then, without warning, the boy and his wings suddenly disappeared into thin air. Sakon dumbly stared at the spot where the boy had been standing.

He blinked again.

He furrowed his brow.

He turned his head to face the juggling twins.

"Did you see that?" he asked them.

"See what?" one of them called back cheerfully.

He turned his head back to where the boy had been standing. He pulled himself to his feet.

He began to quickly walk away.


Sakon sat at the top of the steps of west Clock Town. He had his chin in his hands, and wore an expression so uncharacteristically gloomy that one would think he were a completely different man.

He was down.

He had repressed the thought of the winged brat in green, and was now just ruminating on the fact that today was probably the worst day in his entire career. He hadn't gotten one single hit today. Not a single person was out who was worth robbing. He hadn't been able to formulate the beginning of a future scheme, he hadn't found any money lying around, he hadn't chronicled any new faces in town because, oh yes, there weren't any. He glumly stuck his hands in his pockets to feel around for any spare rupees for lunch, and his hands came into contact with paper. He pulled it out.

The lottery ticket he had bought yesterday sat in the palm of his hand. He stared down at the ink on the paper. The random numbers he had picked stared back at him.

In a sudden fit of rage, he flung the ticket to the wind. Useless scrap of... paper. There was no point in checking his numbers. His luck was so awful today, he would probably somehow manage to lose rupees if he did. He plugged his chin back into his hands and stared straight ahead, a storm brewing on his face.

The wind blew the ticket over Sakon's head and to the small square at the top of the steps. It danced about in the breeze, blowing here and blowing there, until it stuck itself to the face of one of the Bomber boys who was wandering around the square. The young lad pulled the ticket from his cheek in confusion and examined it. An expression of childish joy spreak across his face, and, clutching the ticket in his fist, he ran off towards the lottery shop.

Sakon sighed heavily. If there was some sort of lesson to be learned in today, he really wasn't getting it. He wondered what his mother would say if she saw him right now, moping over his bad luck. Probably something disparaging. She never was a very positive woman. Still, even she would have to have some sympathy for him. He was a man who fortune had spat upon. The only good thing about today was that nothing else could happen to make him feel any worse.

"I won the jackpot! I won the jackpot!" came a screech. Sakon snapped his head around to see a young boy bursting out of the lottery shop, his arms laden with rupees. The boy danced around, shrieking with glee. In his euphoria, he accidentally let go of the ticket he was clutching. It fluttered to Sakon's feet.

Slowly, Sakon bent over to pick it up. He squinted to read the writing that had been blurred by the child's hand. Eventually, he made out the numbers.

He was holding his own lottery ticket.

He stared at the scrap of paper in his hand. Yes, it was most definitely his. The exact same numbers he had picked yesterday, as well as the transluscent stain from when he had spilled some fish oil on it, told him that this ticket belonged to him.

He began to breathe deeply. This was fine. This was okay. This day was already so terrible that nothing else could possibly -

It started to rain.

Sakon blinked.

His nostrils began to flare. Rain pattered off his bald head and quickly evaporated into steam. He wasn't sure why, but something had snapped. The Bother boy's face fell as he caught Sakon's expression, freezing as he ran for cover from the rain.

Sakon was not coming away from any of this empty-handed. He had to make a profit. And so, he stormed through the western gate, heading back to Ikana Canyon at full speed.


He flung open the door to his base with full force. Today had left him with no patience for the delicate mechanics of his hideout. He stomped on switches, violently shoved blocks, and punched Deku Babas in the face before finally reaching the end, where his hoard lay. Only when he reached the end did he realize that, in his rage, he had utterly forgotten about his secret shortcut through the base. He let out a snarl of frustration kicked a cow bobble-head into the wall.

Sakon fell to his knees among his loot. He flung aside precious scrolls and robbed knick-knacks until his thin hands found what they were looking for. Closing his fingers around it, Sakon raised the object up to the gloom to better get a look at it.

It was a peculiar mask. The whole thing was designed to fit over the face and ears, and could only be removed by the person who put it on in the first place. It was made up of rather painful-looking black wires that criss-crossed to cling to the skin, which was unusual enough on its own. However, the mask's most prominent and unsettling feature was its wide red eyes. The old codger at the Observatory had informed Sakon that it had been used as an ancient torture device, as it wouldn't allow its wearer to so much as shut their eyes, yada yada, Sakon hadn't really been listening. He had been much more concerned with sneaking it out without the old coot noticing.

Anyway, that had been close to two years ago. No one would remember it if he were to bring it to town. He was a little bit reluctant to sell it, as he felt that he would get a better price for it if he waited longer, but drastic times called for drastic measures. It was the sort of weird thing that the miser at the Curiosity Shop loved, and probably Sakon's best bet at the minute.

His lip curled upwards. It wasn't much of a consolation, but it would do.


Sakon whistled a cheerful tune as he strolled past Paloon. The fool was so preoccupied with staring at the moon that he scarcely noticed his devilishly handsome face pass him by.

The usual sights greeted him as he strolled through the square - the bank teller, silently watching him from their perch, the two carnival worke- wait.

There were two workers left. Wait - scratch that. One. The one that Sakon had noticed earlier, the one who seemed to spend all his time shouting at the other, was packing up his belongings. He watched as the man shouted out a final "I'm sorry, Bremor!" before grabbing his sack and hurrying through the southern gate. Bremor didn't seem too concerned.

A nasty feeling of unease crept into Sakon's stomach. Well, it looked like that centerpiece wasn't going to get finished on time. The square cut a sadder sight than ever now, made up solely of one single carpenter and a mangy, fleabitten mutt.

This carnival was going to be the most depressing one yet. That is, if it went ahead. His attention drifted to the moon.

He wondered if they would even live to see the carnival.

His reverie was broken as he felt something digging into the small of his back through the burlap of the sack. Suddenly, he was reminded of the mask, and visions of rupees danced through his mind. He perked up instantly, and hurried across the square to the west side, all thoughts of the moon forgotten.

Sakon passed by those weird dancing sisters, scarcely noticing that they now seemed to have found a proper dance to practice. He hurried by the bomb shop and the trading post, briefly pausing to spit on the door of each, before finally reaching the curiosity shop. Gathering all his wit, charm, and general suaveness, Sakon headed inside.

The very second he opened the door, he was hit with an overpoweringly heavy scent. It made his head swim. The various curios and knick-knacks on display blurred into each other, and, through the haze, Sakon spotted who he liked to call the Curiosity Shop Guy. The man was only in his mid-thirties, and yet was already balding. Admittedly, Sakon was in his late twenties and was already completely bald, but a balding head is a lot more sad-looking than a bald one. Especially with that combover the Curiosity Shop Guy was trying to pull off.

The guy leaned on the counter, having kept his bored expression perfectly static while Sakon entered. As Sakon made his way over to the him, the guy picked something out of his ratty moustache and flicked it away.

"Hello, my dear friend!" Sakon cried, fixing the most violently friendly expression he could muster on his face. "I see that you're burning a new type of incense!"

The Curiosity Shop Guy's face remained impassable. In the gloom, Sakon could hardly make out his eyes through those tacky sunglasses.

Eventually, he heaved a sigh. "Yeah. It's a new type. Sandalwood." Without bothering to be discrete, he picked at some food stuck between his teeth. "Anyway. What do you got for me today?"

Sakon's eyes sparked. "Why, I'm glad you asked, old buddy, old pal. Take a look at this!" With a flourish that he felt demanded fanfare, Sakon whipped the All-Night mask from his sack and presented it with a sweep.

The Curiosity Shop Guy looked down at the mask for about a second before looking back up at Sakon. "I'll give you thirty for it."

The metaphorical rupees in Sakon's eyes fell out with a clink. "B-b-but, take a look at the craftsmanship! The craftsmanship! Work like this isn't easy to come by!"

Lamplight dully glinted off of the guy's sunglasses. "Thirty-five."

For the first time, Sakon's shallow facade slipped. He placed both his hands on the counter and leaned close to the Curiosity Shop Guy.

"Look, my friend. I don't think you understand the day I've had. Look at this mask. I wouldn't say this mask is worth any less than a hundred rupees, wouldn't you?"

"Fifty. Take it or leave it."

"Thank you!" Sakon shoved the mask into the Curiosity Shop Guy's lap and accepted the purple rupee. As he headed towards the door, leaving the guy to write a price tag of five hundred rupees on the mask, he suddenly froze.

Slowly, Sakon swivelled around. He carefully studied each item for sale, gently skirting over each golden statue and stuffed like-like with his eyes, before coming to rest on a painting on the far wall. He narrowed his eyes.

The Curiosity Shop Guy, not even bothering to hide what he was doing, noticed his staring and raised an eyebrow. "Anything wrong?" he asked.

Calmly, Sakon's eyes moved to him. "No. Nothing's wrong," he replied lightly. "Have a good night."

As he headed out into the evening air, Sakon threw a final glance towards the painting. Its eyes had disappeared.

Someone else had been in the shop. And they had been watching him.