The Legend of Zelda, its characters and locations are all property of Nintendo. Any and all OCs and original locations belong to me unless specifically stated to belong to someone else.

Fashion Disaster
Chapter 5

Link immediately knew it was Zelda who was calling, because he'd set her personal ringtone to the evillest bit of death metal he could find. The dread the music made him feel was still nothing compared to seeing her name on the caller ID, because, again, Zelda never called unless she was about to make him suffer immensely.

"Hi, little brother!" she said cheerfully the moment he picked up. She sounded far too happy.

"Hey, Zel," he replied. "What do you need?"

She gave an offended gasp. "A sister can't call her brother without needing something?"

"Normal sisters, sure," he said. "You, on the other hand..."

"That's hurtful, Link. Very hurtful. Dad didn't raise you to be like this."

"No, he did not," Link agreed, nodding as he opened another folder filled with his nature photos, having only just now found the time to actually take a look at the ones he took on his last hike. It really was typical that Zelda would call right now. "You made me into this."

"The world's best and brightest little brother who makes his sister so very happy?"

"That's an interesting way to describe it." Link opened a particularly good shot of the wolf family he'd been tracking. So damned cute—the pups were getting so big now. He marked it as a favourite, adding it to the folder he intended to send to his usual clients. "Again, what do you need, Zel?"

Zelda sighed on the other end. "Okay, look...you remember those pics you took for me at the fashion show last week?"

"How could I? Those cupcakes were delicious."

She laughed. "Of course that's the bit you'd remember. And here I was sure all your thoughts would be with that one Sheikah model. You know, the one in the skirt? Or maybe you preferred what was under the sk—"

"Zel!" he exclaimed, wishing she'd never even started that sentence.

"Aw, come on, Link, you have no idea how much I laughed when I opened up that folder and found at least a hundred upskirt shots of him. I mean, yeah, it was a great view, but I didn't expect you to like it that much."

This wasn't happening. This really couldn't be happening. His sister could not possibly be haranguing him about the shots he'd taken of the Sheikah, most of which had been in burst mode. It wasn't like he'd taken individual damn shots!

"And don't think I didn't notice the special attention you paid to Sidon, either," Zelda added. "But I very much appreciate that you did."

"Zel, I'm about to throw myself out the nearest window here," Link said with a sigh. "Can you get to the point, please?"

"Eugh, fine. Look, I sent over a quick collection of the best shots to Shinobi Designs, and I just heard back from their lead designer. He loved the shots you got, and he wants to schedule a private shoot."

"That's great," Link said, a bad feeling creeping up his back. "That's a wonderful opportunity for you. If their brand takes off—"

"They want you."

He paused. "Eh?"

She sighed again. "They want you," she repeated. "Look, you and I have very different photography styles, right? The pics you took have a...certain energy to them. The angles, the focus, the compositions. Shinobi loved your photos and believe me they've seen a lot of them over the past few days. They contacted me and asked for a private shoot, on the condition that the person who took the catwalk photos also takes the new ones. I can't fake your style, Link. I need you."

"Zel..."

"Please?"

Link groaned. Just his fucking luck.

"I'm not a fashion guy, Zel," he tried. "I have no idea how to direct, or—"

"I'll help you with that!" she said brightly. "We'll go over it at my studio a few days beforehand, so you can get used to it. I'll be doing most of that work, anyway. You just focus on getting those energetic photos."

"I don't know..."

"Double your usual fee. I'll throw in more cupcakes. And I'll give you full control of the TV the next time we're at Dad's."

...now that was unexpected. Zelda never ever let anyone have free reign of the TV. Not even their father was allowed to decide, even at his place. For Zelda to give up that control...it was unprecedented.

"Please?" she said. "Do this for me, and it'll be the last time I ask you for a favour."

"Can I have that in writing and notarised?" he asked jokingly.

"Sure!" she said brightly.

Fuck.

He couldn't say no now. He'd feel awful if he did.

"Eugh, fine. Set it up," he said. "But I want at least a week to prepare."

"You got it! I'll get back to Shinobi and let them know we can arrange it. I'll send you the details once we've worked something out."

"Sure."

"Oh, and Link?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks again. I owe you big time."

"Damn right you do," he said. "Next time we're at Dad's, I'm making you watch every corny romcom I can find."

"Eugh...well, a promise is a promise," Zelda said after making a retching sound. "I'll let you get back to whatever you were doing. Sending you the details. Bye, little brother!"

"Bye, Zel."

He put his phone back on his desk and felt a little good about making his sister so happy for a moment.

For a moment.

And then he remembered that he'd very likely have to photograph that Sheikah model again.

The one who'd caught him drooling.

Link wondered if it was too late to head out on another hike. A few weeks in the mountains sounded good right about now.

His phone buzzed with a text message. It was from Zelda.

For the love of all that is good and holy, PLEASE don't wear the wolf shirt!

He stared at the message for a moment.

On second thought, a hike wouldn't be enough. Best to leave civilisation permanently.

No one would mock his awesome shirt then.

"No."

Across the desk, Kafei's face fell in an exaggerated manner, like he hadn't in a million years expected that answer. There was even a loud, outraged gasp.

"Why not?!" he exclaimed.

Sheik glared at him. "Are you kidding me?" he asked. "I did it for you one time as a favour. We agreed on that. One time! Besides, Kiro's healthy again now, so you don't need me anymore, and thank Din for that."

Sheik had been in the middle of checking his schedule to see if he could fit in another intermediate class every week, as he'd received more sign-up requests than his current class sizes could accommodate. The chances looked middling, but he'd been about to start setting up a prototype schedule anyway to at least try when the purple-haired idiot had barged into his office.

Paya had tried to say something, but Kafei had gone directly into his schpiel, leaving her hovering by the door and giving Sheik an apologetic look, which he responded to with a smile. His poor cousin was as much a victim in this as Sheik.

"Aw, but Sheik!" Kafei said, throwing his arms out and nearly knocking Sheik's computer monitor off his desk. "You liked it, didn't you? You sure looked like you were enjoying yourself, at least! That twirl!"

"I was doing you a favour," Sheik said. "I may not have liked it very much, but I wasn't about to do a subpar job of it."

Kafei sighed. "Okay, fine. So, you didn't enjoy it. But at least you got that Zora model's number, right?"

"It was probably fake."

His cousin paused, staring at Sheik for a long moment. "You haven't tried calling? Texting?"

"Why would I call or text an obviously fake number?" Sheik asked.

Sidon had been friendly, sure, and they'd had a bit of fun during the party, but he'd had no reason to give Sheik his actual number. Sidon was pretty well-known model (Sheik had checked, and Sidon was featured in a lot of articles on various sites), and probably surrounded by people far more suitable for friendships and...well, no point in even thinking about it, really.

Sheik was brought out of his thoughts by the sound of Kafei slamming—outright smashing—his forehead into Sheik's desk, groaning.

"Paya," he said, voice muffled by the cheap wood, "our baby cousin will be alone forever."

Sheik rolled his eyes. "Don't be so dramatic."

"Agreed," Paya said from her position by the door. "Sheik takes things at his own pace, Kaf. Leave him alone." She paused, looking at Sheik. "You should try texting him, though."

"Not you too!"

"Well!" Kafei said brightly. "If you don't believe the number is real, then we'll just have to make sure your paths cross again! Which means you gotta keep modelling for me!"

"No," Sheik said, holding his hand out flat, as if warding Kafei off. "I am not doing it. Forget it. Nope! Njet! Iie!"

"Oh, I have an idea!" Kafei said, completely ignoring him. "How about this: You do this gig for me, and I'll help you with your classes. Maybe I'll even hold a few of my own! Paya'll help too!"

"I'm sorry?" Paya asked. "When did I agree to this?"

"Just now, honey," Kafei replied, grinning at her. "You've always wanted to be a teacher, after all."

"No, I haven't."

"So it's decided!" Kafei said, thrusting his hand out, trying to snatch Sheik's, but he managed to pull it out of the way just in time.

"Kafei!" Sheik shouted, not sure how else to get through to his idiot cousin. "I. Am. Not. Doing. It! I have too much shit to do around here, too much planning! I can't just take a random couple of days off at your whim! Besides, Kiro is healthy again, use him!"

"But you look so much better than Kiro in the outfit—"

"Doesn't fucking matter! He's the model, not me!"

"But—"

"Kafei," Paya interrupted abruptly. "He doesn't want to do it. Accept it and move on."

Kafei looked stricken and extremely disappointed, but eventually he nodded slowly.

"All right," he said. "Fine. You're right. You don't want to do it, you don't want to do it." He stood up and brushed some imaginary dust off his shoulders. "Sorry to bother you, cuz."

"It's fine," Sheik said. "Kiro will do a good job, I'm sure."

"Yes, yes, he will," Kafei agreed. "It's just...ah, doesn't matter. I'll get out of your hair." He went for the door, which Paya opened for him. "Oh, one more thing," he said, pausing halfway through it. "Impa wanted me to tell you that she liked the pictures."

"It's not fine," Sheik said. "It will never be fine. Get out of my office and never come back."

"As you wish," Kafei said with a cackle. "Till next time, cousin dear!"

"Sorry about that," Paya said again. "You know how he gets when he's disappointed."

"Acts like a toddler, I know," Sheik said, nodding. "I'm just glad I'm not the one who has to protect him when he's throwing a tantrum."

"I'll pound him into mush in the sparring ring, no worries," she said. "Have a good night, Sheik."

"You too."

Sheik waited until he heard the front door of his dojo opening and closing before breathing out a sigh of relief. Thank fuck he'd managed to talk Kafei down. He could be so damned persistent, and he usually found some angle to work in order to get Sheik to say yes, but Sheik had held fast this time. There was no emergency—Kiro had sent a text thanking Sheik for covering for him while he'd been sick, but that he'd recovered now and was ready for work again.

There was no good reason for Sheik to do it, and that had helped him stay firm on his decision.

One humiliation was enough.

Or so he thought, until a few days later when he received a text from the number that supposedly belonged to Sidon.

Hi Sheik!
It's Sidon!
Not sure if you managed to save my number or not (we were pretty smashed when I gave it to you), but your cousin was kind enough to give me yours!
He told me you're getting a private shoot! That's a big step in any model's career, especially after just one show!
You've no idea how proud I am of you!
I just wanted to wish you the best of luck, and...can I have some copies of the shots, please? From one model to another, you know?
Text me back! I'm at school right now, studying for a big exam in a couple of days so my replies may be sporadic!
Big hug,
Sidon

Sheik read the text over and over a few times, trying to make sense of it.

First of all, how did Kafei know how to get in touch with Sidon? Second, why was Kafei talking to Sidon about Sheik? And thirdly, when the fuck had Sheik agreed to the private shoot.

It struck him a few seconds later.

That...that bastard!

He brought up his contacts and called the number listed under "Purple Bane of My Existence."

It only took a few rings before the smug snake picked up.

"Sheik, I was expecting your call."

"I've no fucking doubt," Sheik said, pacing around his apartment living room. "What the hell is wrong with you?!"

"Nothing's wrong with me, cousin. I'm just a man who knows what he wants and will do whatever it takes to get it. What a coincidence, that I happened to have Mipha's number, and she was willing to give me her little brother's in exchange for some...well, that's not important. And you wouldn't believe how excited young Sidon was when I mentioned the private shoot. I thought he was going to start jumping up and down right then and there. I may have failed to mention that you initially turned it down, but I can hardly be blamed for him jumping to conclusions, can I? Anyway, I gave him your number, just in case the one you have was fake. No need to thank me."

"I won't," Sheik said through gritted teeth. "I hate you so fucking much."

"I love you too, Sheik. So, I'll mail you the details as soon as we've ironed them out with Trifocus. If you want, I can send you the diet plan as well."

"I never agreed—"

"You don't want to disappoint Sidon, do you?"

"One of these days, I'm going to kill you."

"You're welcome to try, but I don't think you'll succeed."

Defeated, because Sheik could not bear the idea of disappointing Sidon for any damned reason (and ignoring the thrill in his chest at knowing how excited he'd been for Sheik), he fought down the urge to hurl his cell phone into the wall, instead taking a deep breath and saying:

"I have conditions," he said.

"Double the fee, all costs covered, and help from me and Paya when you need it at the dojo."

"...had that ready to go, did you?"

"I can read you like an open book, cousin."

"I want dinner at a fancy place, too. The most expensive place in town."

Kafei paused. "Why?" he asked.

"Consider it a business dinner," Sheik said, grinning. "To cement the deal."

"You drive a hard bargain, Sheik...but sure. You got it. Pick a place, and I'll see about booking us a table. You wanna bring someone, or...?"

"Don't get ahead of yourself," Sheik growled. "Just get it done."

"You got it. I'll mail you the details, as I said. And thanks, Sheik. I really do appreciate this."

"Yeah, yeah," Sheik said, hanging up without saying goodbye. Kafei wasn't worth it.

He paced around his apartment, stewing in his own useless anger for a while before deciding to head down to the dojo. There was a punching bag in his office that he wanted nothing more than to obliterate. Maybe he'd print out a picture of Kafei and tape it to the bag.

Or just actually punch him in the face the next time they met.

That'd be good, too.