It's easy to forget that the veil of normalcy is a thin one.
Easy to forget that it can be torn down - shredded - in the space of a breath.
Just that morning, normalcy had still weighed like a blanket on her shoulders; so comfortably, in fact, that she hadn't noticed it. Mostly because she'd been too busy basking in the easy radiance of his presence as they strolled down the long, brick path into campus. "Lunch as usual?" He'd said as they stopped at the water fountain that was the heart of campus - the place where he'd take a left and she'd take a right. Him, to the Food Sciences building; and her, to the Social Sciences one.
"Of course," she'd replied with a smile of her own, one hand holding onto the strap of her backpack. The morning air was cool; sunlight soft and grey behind a thin sheet of clouds. "How about a real restaurant this time? At the mall, maybe? I'm sick of campus food."
Link had chuckled, setting something in her chest fluttering, "Sure, princess."
"Hey- I'll have you know that it is not a 'princess' thing to want to eat a finer establishment!"
Link's grin betrayed his thoughts on the matter even if he said nothing more on it. He'd lifted a hand in a short wave, "See ya' at lunch."
She'd watched him go, his messenger bag's strap crossing the broad expanse of his back, until the blue of his shirt melded into the faceless sea of students. Blinking, she'd turned around and marched off. She'd been embarrassed then, but now, she misses the way her cheeks had burned against the morning's chill.
It'd been better. Better than the heat of his hand against her cheek now, something sticky smearing her skin.
The veil of normalcy is a thin one, and it'd been snatched from her hands in the mall, before they'd even gotten to the restaurant, when gunshots rang and people screamed.
They hadn't had time to understand what was happening. The afternoon crowd at the mall had stampeded, and they'd been pushed up against the walls. Link had grabbed her hand in her chaos, and they'd clung onto each other as they fought back the crowds and searched for an exit.
Before they could though, the gunman had shown up clad in dark clothing, wearing a white mask with a red symbol painted onto it. A faceless terror. One she'd seen plenty of times before - in flitting news bites, on the front page of free newspapers at bus stations, occasionally during idle scrolls through social media.
"Yiga-!?" She'd hissed, free hand clutching onto Link's sleeve as they backed away. They'd been caught in the tail end of the crowd, and standing out all too much in front of the fellow holding a gun.
Overhead, the lights flickered once- twice - on the third flicker, that mask turned its red eye towards them. Then, darkness.
"Zelda, run." But she couldn't. Link's voice was loud, even when whispered. The crowd's racket was growing distant. They were cornered. Not literally, but they were pinned under the unseeing gaze of the Yiga member, who was standing somewhat crouched, looking halfway feral with only their head turned towards them. "Zelda."
He'd shifted, shielding her completely even as his gaze - usually bright like a sunny ocean day, but now frigid and hard - remained fixed on the Yiga member.
"Link, no-"
Gunshots swallowed the rest of her words.
Once. Twice. Its echo followed by maniacal laughter.
And then they were gone, scampering further down the emptied, darkened halls.
For a second, relief had washed over her. But only a second.
Her eyes had widened as Link let go of her hand, stumbling back a half step as he reached for his side. She'd looked down in time to see him pull his hand away from his side, both of them gazing down with slow shock and realization as they considered his hand and the dark, angry red that stained it.
"Link! Oh Goddesses, oh," She'd reached a hand up even though she could see it shake. She'd reached up, as though there was anything she could do to stem the flower that had bloomed and bloomed at his side. A rusty red that devoured the blue of his shirt.
He'd stumbled again, but she'd managed to catch him before he fell. "We...We have to get out of here," she'd said, her voice thick, head spinning, even as she ducked down a bit and looped his arm around her shoulders. "I-I'm sure - outside - paramedics, or the police, will be able to help."
He'd grunted. They'd taken a few steps down the now silent hallway, past abandoned shops and merchandise spilled across the tile. Zelda had looked ahead, tried to focus on anything but the trail that dripped on the floor behind her. They hadn't made it far before his legs gave out and they were dragged down to the ground. It'd taken all her strength just to catch him before they crashed onto the tile.
"Zel-da," he'd said, voice strained and weak. "I think...think you'll have to go ahead."
Zelda had been lowering him slowly onto the ground when the sound of more deranged laughter echoed down the hall behind them. She'd looked down the hall a second, then swallowed, then shook her head, "No. No way. We have to get out together."
"I can't." Link had settled onto the ground, one hand still clutching his side, his shirt drenched with blood. "You...should go...find help. I'm slowing you down."
She'd missed it. She'd missed how it'd been just fifteen minutes ago. When they'd been hungry and talking about whether they'd have time to grab ice-cream. Not this. Not bleeding out on tiled floors, with a group of madmen on the loose. She'd dropped to her knees beside him, shaking her head, unable to find her voice.
And then he'd reached up, cradled her cheek, and smiled.
So Zelda finds herself now, on the ground, holding his blood stickied hand to her cheek, her own smeared with that rusty ichor. Hot tears trickling down her cheeks and into his hand as Link smiles, "It doesn't even...even hurt anymore, Zelda."
"Don't say that." She clutched his hand tighter, "Don't."
"Hey…" His words are barely a murmur as he sweeps a thumb softly over her cheek, his fingers catching slightly in the short locks of her hair. She wishes that the first time he touches her like this - the first time he holds her like this - isn't one that's stained with blood and tears.
"Hey, it's okay. Go."
Her fingers dig into his skin. Her throat is so tight she can hardly breathe. "I-" It's a strangled gasp, "I can't."
"I'll be here. I promise." His lids droop. There's a puddle beginning to form beneath him. "Go, Zelda."
Behind them, the sounds of activity - footsteps, chatter - grow closer. She wants to apologize, though she doesn't know what for. For being helpless? For leaving now? For suggesting they come here in the first place? But even as her mind reels with guilt and adrenaline and fear, she knows he's right. There's no sense in staying here, watching him bleed out. No sense in getting injured herself and making his sacrifice be in vain.
She squeezes his hand. "I'll-I'll be back. With help. Just-Just hang on, okay? Promise me, Link."
He smiles again, but it's much smaller than before. "Promise."
Zelda pulls away from him and thinks it's easily the hardest thing she's ever had to do. She pushes up onto her feet. Her legs tremble, threaten to give way beneath her. But she stands and steps back. She looks down at him. Their eyes meet and she can see a sunny oceanside in them again, even for just a moment.
The second hardest thing she's ever had to do is wrench her eyes away.
But she turns and runs.
Behind her, Zelda doesn't see it when Link closes his eyes and sinks back into the cool tile. She doesn't hear it when he breathes-
"I love you."