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People often mistook them for sisters. It was of little wonder; they had similar looks and an incredible bond between them. The two girls, each of eleven years, had grown up much in each other's company. One father owned a ranch; the other a cafeteria. But the men were the best of friends, as were their daughters.
That sunny day, Cremia and Anju were hauling baskets of dirty laundry down to the Laundry Pool. They were in the middle of a loud performance of a melody that a traveling bard had sung at the Stock Pot the previous night.
However, they soon reached the second verse. This they did not know so well. Soon, both Anju and Cremia broke out laughing, falling to the ground. They rolled around like this for a while, cackling their cute little red-haired heads off.
Finally, Anju, still giggling wildly, staggered to a stand. She plucked up the sheets, which had been sprawled across the earth when the girls had tumbled to it.
Cremia followed suit. They trod further into the enclosed courtyard to the bridge.
"Cremia, chores are so much funner when you're staying with us," Anju said happily, a few giggles still left within her.
"More fun," corrected Cremia when she could once again breathe.
Her friend made a face. "More fun," she repeated, her voice half obedient, half mocking. "Anyways, it is." She had shorter, redder locks than her longhaired strawberry-blond counterpart; her eyes were a darker blue too.
Cremia and Anju dunked the sheets they'd carried into the cold water of the pool. Then the washcloths, towels, tablecloths, dishrags, and everything else.
They work calmed the girls down and turned their young minds to serious matters.
"Hey, Anju!"
"What?
"Th-There's someone over there," Cremia stuttered. "With…purple hair?"
And indeed there was: a boy, who had been on the other side of the pool up until this point. He came towards them now, his crimson eyes wide with wonder.
"What're you doing?" he asked.
"Hello to you, too!" Cremia said, thinking the boy strange and rude. "And we're doing the wash of course!"
"Oh," he replied, becoming easily distracted by a shiny brown button on his vest.
"Cremia," whispered Anju from the corner of her mouth. "Have you ever seen anyone with purple hair before?"
"Nah," replied her friend, not bothering to whisper (the stranger would hear anyway).
"Wait! Doesn't that guy who's running for mayor have it?"
"Oh, yeah! That… Doctor, was it?" Cremia giggled. "It was some weirdo name.
"Dotour," the boy corrected firmly.
"How would you know?" Cremia was angry with the boy, especially now that her friend was staring at him.
"He's my father," he explained quietly.
Anju gave a cute little yelp and covered her mouth with her fingers. This was the only sound for a while, save that of the late morning breeze through the lush trees.
At last, Cremia could tolerate the standing and staring no longer. She gave a rushed apology before saying, "Anju, we'd better finish the laundry."
Anju blinked her sapphire eyes slowly. "Yes," she murmured. However, she did not budge.
Cremia stood between the other two. "I'm sorry," she told the boy, "but Anju's mother will need us back soon."
"Only in time for lunch, Cremia," reminded the other girl softly. "We don't even know his name."
"I'm Kafei," the boy said, gazing right over Cremia's shoulder.
"Anju," groaned Cremia. She gave up, pulling up a sheet and sudsing it up with a bar of soap she'd been keeping in her pocket. She continued her work until the laundry was drying along the bridge railing.
When she stood, she found that her companions had begun a conversation.
"My father wanted to be a mayor for a long time," Kafei was saying, "so we came here as soon as the job opened up."
"So you only came today?" Anju asked, her eyes fixed on him. Of course, she couldn't meet his gaze; she was too shy. So, really, she was only seeing his neck or thereabouts.
"Yeah. We're staying at some place called the Stock Pot."
"That's my family's!" she exclaimed. "But…we're only a cafeteria…"
"I'm not clear on everything, but my father said 'Stock Pot' is where we're staying." He looked overly serious, perhaps trying to impress Anju. "And," Kafei added, "I'm supposed to go there for lunch."
"Ooh! You can come with me and Cremia then—once we finish the la…" She looked about, bewildered. There was no Cremia and no laundry. Anju yelped again. "Goodness!"
"Where'd she go?" Kafei asked. He spun around slowly, as Anju did.
No Cremia. No laundry.
Anju took off at a run. "Cremia!"
"Hey, wait up!" Kafei exclaimed, hurrying after her.
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"I'm ashamed, Anju," scolded the girl's fiery-headed mother. "Having our guest do all the work by herself!"
"Mother," gulped Anju. "I-I didn't ask her to." Her eyes were on her sandals.
"The woman's eyes fell on Kafei. "Oh, this is Dotour's boy?" She had to cease her lecture on account of the guest.
Meanwhile, Cremia looked on mournfully from the other side of the dining hall. She had only meant to expedite things by doing the laundry herself. Getting Anju in trouble was what she had tried to avoid. However, her plan had backfired when Anju's mother demanded an explanation of everything that had gone on.
After a minute, a customer distracted the woman. Her daughter and the boy were free to come over to Cremia.
"I'm sorry," Cremia apologized. "I didn't mean to get your mother on your case, Anju."
Anju, severely humbled by her mother's scolding, shook her head. "It's me who's sorry." She sighed. "I didn't help you."
"Humph! It's all over now, isn't it?" Kafei set down his lunch at the table, along with himself, and began to eat the bread and cheese hungrily.
"I suppose," Cremia agreed, eyeing the boy with suspicion. She'd already finished her meal due to her early arrival.
"I'm sorry," Anju mumbled, only touching her own food with the tips of her fingers.
"Eat," commanded Cremia.
Anju, ever obedient, ate.
Kafei, ever blissful, kept talking. "You know, if my dad gets elected and all, my life will be real different."
Cremia asked dully, "How so?"
"Well, I'll settle down for once! Me and Mom and Dad are always traveling, you see. We once stayed with the Zoras for two months, you know. My dad was the manager of the Indigo-Gos!"
The ranch girl though, So know he thinks he can manage the city?, but she had already insulted Dotour once that day. Instead, she asked, "What else?"
"We've gone all over the world! After we were in the mountains—"
Cremia's attention was snagged. "You were in the mountains? With the Gorons?" she interrupted.
"Oh, yes," replied the boy, a nice little smile gracing his lips. "We spent, like, two years with them. It's very cold up there in winter! But they always have nice big fires in the caves."
"Tell me more," insisted Cremia. "I always love to hear about Gorons and the mountains. Do they still have those races?"
"Oh, yeah," Kafei told her. "I watched them lots! You wouldn't believe how many Gorons come from all over! Must be thousands of 'em! I never saw so many people, 'cept maybe at this coronation ceremony for the new Deku king three years back."
Cremia loved the forest almost as much as the mountains. "You actually got into the palace? I heard Deku hate outsiders!"
A wry grin was on his pale face, his crimson eyes almost completely shut. "Well, actually, they do, you see. Mom didn't go, but me and Dad hid in bushes and snuck in. There were sooooo many of those Deku people, you wouldn't believe your own eyes!"
"I never saw a Deku before," commented Anju quietly, blinking her soft eyes shyly.
Cremia raised a brow at her friend's strange behavior. Anju was never this silent and humble unless her parents were involved. Still, Cremia concurred, "Me neither. What do they look like, exactly?"
Kafei was bursting with happiness, overwhelmingly pleased to tell them more of what they did not know. "They look just like living plants, I think. They're shorter than adults. They got brown skin, like bark, and glowing yellow eyes…"
Both girls were pulled further and further in. Cremia, for a while, was quite aware she was being so enthralled, but she couldn't help it. Even if he did make Anju act all weird, perhaps Kafei wasn't so bad after all.
It was not long enough for the children before Anju's mother was heard coughing exceptionally loudly from across the room.
"Oh, Anju," noticed Cremia, "it's time to help clean up."
And, indeed, the cafeteria had gradually emptied.
Anju gave a little gasp, hopping up. "Mother, I'm sorry!"
The woman sighed and handed her daughter and the other girl pails of water and rags. "I hate to interrupt," she began, a bit of sarcasm in her voice as well as annoyance, "but it is you girls' duty."
"Duty?" scoffed Kafei when she left. She was a bit angry that his account of swimming across the ocean to escape vicious Gerudo pirates had been so rudely cut short.
"You'd best go," Anju told Kafei sadly. "Mother is having us work all afternoon today."
Kafei frowned. Surely, though, there would be other youths out in Clock Town he could impress. But…
"Anju, do you remember that other song that guy sang last night?" asked Cremia, who was at work soaping up a tabletop.
Her friend joined her. "Was that the one about the cow?"
And together, they began to sing:
I once loved a girl named BessShe was the best
She did give me everything:
Love, love, and love!
You could drink this everyday
For, this love was…"Milk!"
Cremia and Anju cried the final word a bit early, and they fell into uncontrollable laughter, even as they scrubbed.
Kafei, seeing he was no longer need to entertain, left.
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