June, 2020: Warning: Unedited. Low quality.

COUNTING STARS

Chapter 4: Detective

Monday, October 9

"Do you still have that picture?"

"…Which one?"

"The one of the fugitive."

"Oh. Yes, I do." I take out the neatly folded paper from my pants pocket and place it on the table.

"Might I ask why you carry it on your person?"

"…Tracking purposes. I could ask 'Have you seen this man?' to some people."

"Link, what if you ask someone connected to his gang? That could be very dangerous."

I shrug, dropping my eyes to the tabletop. "There isn't much I have to lose anymore."

"Please, Link," Shad says, "don't talk that way. I'd hate to see you do something foolish."

"Why?" I ask. "Why are you still trying to help me? You already gave me a new school. I don't need any more help, Officer."

"Detective," he corrects. "Detective Shad Sterling. I've been promoted for the sole purpose of getting to the bottom of this. This case is very important to me, too, Link. An innocent man was killed, and he certainly will not be the last if the fugitive is not caught."

"I don't need a detective," I say pridefully. "I'm bringing the murderer to justice—by myself."

"Yeah, well good luck with that," Shad scoffs. "Do not take this the wrong way, Link, but you're just a teenager."

"What does my age have to do with anything?"

Shad sighs, sputtering out, "He could kill you, Link. You're incapable of handling this safely."

"Incapable," I repeat, shaking my head. My fist clenches, but I refuse to release my newfound strength in any manner—especially not on Shad. "You don't know me."

He grumbles in defeat, then says, "Okay, Link, I give up. If you want to risk your life for a silly thing like revenge—"

"Justice."

"—then knock yourself out." He pauses, pushing his glasses back over his nose. "But that doesn't mean you're not going to have my help."

I roll my eyes. "Really, dude? I just said I don't need—"

"Ganondorf has connections," Shad interrupts, pointing to the photo of the wanted gang lord. "He can have anyone killed if they so much as blink at him. You'll need some of my resources—CTPD, and the skill of a recently-promoted detective."

I squint. "The minimal skill of a rookie, you mean?"

Shad ignores me, withdrawing a darkened photograph from his briefcase. "Take a look here," he instructs, pointing to some shape.

"What the heck is that?" I ask monotonously.

"This is a picture of the fugitive's arm," Shad explains.

"His arm? Why in Nayru's name would that matter?"

"Look closely, Link," he coaxes. "Specifically, at the wrist."

I lean forward to gaze more intently at the photograph, and that's when I notice it. A tattoo is on his arm—one of a crescent moon.

"It is the symbol of his gang," Shad says. "They're called the M.O.D.—Men of Demise."

"Men of Demise?"

Shad nods. "I don't know if that has some deeper meaning, but I think it's just a name that invokes power. Anyway, we have received reports of gang related activity transpiring in and near your school. Based on this information, we are assuming that you have a few gangsters as classmates. They may be connected to Dragmire."

"I have a few suspects in mind," I say. "A few friends of mine told me about two people… I forgot their names."

"Could you ask your friends again?" Shad inquires, scribbling notes fervently on a sheet of paper.

I shake my head. "No. I don't want them getting suspicious if I am to track this gang lord down. They'll just get in the way of that."

He sighs. "True. Well, keep an eye out for unusual activity. And if you see anything worth my attention, give me a call." His fingers push a small slip of paper with digits on it.

I take it, fold it, and place it in my pocket. "Thank you."

Grinning triumphantly, Shad says, "I knew you'd come around. Now, let me give you a ride back to the academy."

I am officially living a double life.

On one hand, I'm beginning to track down the fugitive who killed my uncle. On the other, I'm trying to survive high school, crazy friends, and two teachers who hate my guts.

I should be in a movie.

I shut the police car door, offering Detective Shad a haphazard wave, then step onto Hyrule Academy campus. It's nearly evening right about now, with the sun just beginning to set, yellowing the sky and tinting the multicolored autumn leaves.

Birds sing from nearby trees, humming and chirping rhythmically while I trek down the paved path to the academy. I pass the plaza, heading toward the boys' dorm building located to the right of the school.

A group of boys are chatting outside the large double doors. I look among them for Sheik, my roommate, but don't find him anywhere. Instead, my eyes land on a shady-looking dude with long, lavender hair and a purple jacket. He murmurs something to a nearby person, who grows angry and shoves him backward. The shady boy topples into me, sending the both of us to the ground.

"Ugh!" he grunts, shooting the perpetrator a nasty glare.

I rise hesitantly to my feet, offering to help the guy up. "You alright, man?"

"Yeah," he spits in reply, yanking himself upward with the support of my arm. He fixes his red eyes on me, glaring, as if I were the one who pushed him. Then he shoves past me with his shoulder.

What a jackass.

Ignoring the group's stares, I shove the double doors open with way too much force, causing them to slam into the inside walls.

Whoops.

A few boys shout out in shock, but I just lower my head and enter the dorm building. I stand in a long, wide hall with doors on both walls, noticing an elevator directly to my right. As the heavy doors shut behind me, I fumble in my pants pocket for a note that Headmaster Harkinian gave me this morning. I pull it out, scanning it for a room number.

3B.

My room must be on the third floor. Shrugging, I enter the elevator, punching in a button that reads "3". One surprisingly long ascent later, the doors slide open and I step out into the hallway.

"Link!"

I turn to see Pipit standing outside 3A's door. "Yeah?" I ask him.

"Dude, I just called you. Everyone's worried because we saw you leave with a cop. Did you get arrested?"

"No," I say, squinting questionably. He called me? When? I didn't hear anything. I search frantically for my FiPhone in my pockets, but I don't find it. "Shit, I probably left my phone at the police station."

"Why were you there?"

I ignore him, remembering that I did, in fact, have my phone on me as I exited Shad's car.

Wait. That shady purple guy bumped into me.

"Damn," I shout abruptly, causing Pipit to flinch, "it was stolen!" I take off toward where I came from, not bothering to take the elevator and instead opting to descend the staircase nearby.

Pipit, in pursuit, shouts, "How? Did you get mugged?"

I don't reply.

"Did he where a fedora? Did he tell you to stick 'em up?"

"Yeah, Pip, because he was a 1940's mobster," I respond sarcastically. "I didn't get mugged—I got pickpocketed."

When I reach the bottom of the staircase, I bolt out the double doors, unintentionally slamming the door into the same cluster of boys.

"Aah!"

"The hell—?!"

Pipit stands in the doorway behind me, staring forward with wide, unblinking eyes. "You just hit them, Link!"

I know I didn't mean to, but nonetheless I shout, "These thieves had it coming!"

The group of five boys moves out from behind the door and glares furiously at me. I narrow my eyes myself, scanning them for the lavender-haired boy. I spot him standing behind his comrades; he shoves through them, a sneer present on his face as he lobs my phone toward me.

Startled by my effortless victory, I reach out for my cell and catch it. "What the hell?" I ask—of course, I'm asking two different questions. Why did you pickpocket me, and why did you give up so easily?

"Heh," the lavender-haired guy says with smooth vocals. "I knew it was you. Who else could push a door with such strength?"

I squint. How does he know me?

Seeing my confusion, he sneers, flipping his dumb hair. "I don't want your stupid phone—I was just trying to draw you out." He chuckles. "Later, Gaiden."

Of course—he has to be acquainted with Groose. That's how he knows of me and my unexplainable strength.

At least, I hope that's the case. I would hate for him to know of my strength for another reason—which has to do with the symbol on the back of my hand. And, other than Sheik, there was one single person who saw it: Dragmire.

But that can't be it. He's probably just one of Groose's lackeys.

The lavender-haired dude turns his back and takes his leave, followed by the suckers I had hit with the door. They send me menacing looks, but I ignore them. If I can beat up Groose, these dumbasses can't be any more difficult.

"Link," Pipit says.

I turn around to meet his startled gaze.

"Stay away from them." It wasn't a request.

I snort.

He shakes his head. "I'm not kidding, Link. Those guys are dangerous. Even I, Pipit Westbrook, the supreme leader of awesomeness, know that."

"Supreme leader of—"

"C'mon," he interrupts, "let's head up to your dorm. Sheik is… somewhere, so I'll help you unpack."

One painfully long elevator ride later, we're back on the third floor. "Your room is right across from mine," Pipit comments, motioning from 3B to 3A. "It's good you're not in 2A, though."

"Why?"

"I get a lot of complaints about the noise after curfew." He winks and wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.

"You're full of shit," I shoot back. "I'm heading in." Withdrawing my key from my pocket, I turn it in the lock, turn the knob, and enter the dorm.

Pipit mutters, "'Full of shit'? My ass."

"You can use my bathroom if you'd like."

"No—You know what I mean."

I flick on the light switch and scrutinize the room. It's big. A bathroom is directly to the left, and there's a bed in each back corner—one's blankets are strewn across the floor, and the other's are neatly folded on the top. I easily figure out which is mine. Directly to my right is a makeshift kitchen, complete with a sink, dishwasher, mini fridge, cupboards, and a table.

"Nice," I say, a smile creeping up to my lips.

This place will be my home for nearly two years.

"Nice? You kidding me?" Pipit asks. "If you wanna see nice, come to mine and Darmani's bachelor pad."

"I can only imagine," I reply, humoring him. "But I'm gonna unpack now."

I notice that my two suitcases—the ones Malon had generously offered to deliver up here—are placed neatly in my corner. Noticing also that I have a personal closet on my side of the room, I decide to unpack my clothes first.

"Do you need any help unpacking?"

I shrug. "Nah, I'm good. Thanks, though."

"'Kay. I'm gonna head down to the lounge early, chat up a few ladies." He grins. "Just go to the bottom floor of this building. The door to the lounge is at the end of the hall."

"Okay. Who's all gonna be there?"

He bites his lip in thought. "Mido, maybe Sheik and Malon, I dunno about Zel, Mikau, yours truly, and hopefully some hot girls. Meet ya there, Link."

"Alright."

My phone buzzes in my pocket; I check the message from Sheik. "Hey," it reads, "gonna be a bit late. Go find Mido."

I pull my new Hyrule Academy hoodie over my shoulders and open the double doors to the lounge—which is oddly named "The Lumpy Pumpkin"— and survey the room. A counter, which serves as a makeshift bar due to our underage, is directly to my left. Sitting on one of the barstools is an attractive girl with shiny, auburn hair—I recognize her as someone from my P.E. class. Tables are spread out across the large room, and there's a corner booth in the back where a familiar green-clad redhead sits. I make my way over to Mido, taking a seat across from him in the booth.

Mido murmurs a quiet, "Hey," and fidgets with his thumbs.

"You nervous?" I ask him with a questioning squint.

Mido shrugs. "Yeah, I'm a little nervous."

Out of nowhere, Pipit pops his head over the edge of the neighboring booth, startling us and causing us to leap out of our skin. "What're you nervous about?" he questions.

Mido whips his head in the direction of Pipit, gives him a 'what-the-frickin'-hell' look, and stammers, "…There's a really pretty girl sitting over there." He points to the counter, where the auburn-haired girl sits, chatting with the waiter. I recognize him as Arian Tate, the boy from my biology class. Apparently, Arian is a womanizing mastermind who is second only to Pipit in the art of getting the ladies.

I return my gaze to Pipit. "What were you doing back there?"

"Crazy ex-girlfriend walked by." Pipit smirks, then addresses Mido. "Listen, Mido… You have no reason to be nervous. And I'm gonna tell you why in one single word."

"What's that?"

"Dibs!" he shouts, raising a finger in the air.

Mido shoots him a death glare, eyes widening, nostrils flaring. "What?!"

"You never called dibs," he responds with a nonchalant shrug.

"But I've been—"

"Did you shout the word 'dibs'?"

"Well, no—"

He grins. "Pipit out."

I watch as Pipit stands up, then makes his way over to the pretty girl at the counter.

"Can you believe him?" Mido asks me indignantly. "Pipit gets all the girls, and he even takes the one I was thinking about maybe talking to sometime?!"

"Dibs, huh? You guys take that seriously," I comment.

"Mainly Pipit," he mutters. "It's his way of labeling things as his."

"Y'know, girls aren't property," says someone from behind me.

Mido and I jump again, then whip our heads toward the source of the voice. When my eyes land on Zelda, I relax but get nervous at the same time. If that makes sense. Which probably doesn't.

"Gosh, what's with everyone sneaking up on us today?" Mido asks.

Zelda shrugs innocently, then takes a seat next to me. "So what's up?"

"Pipit just stole the girl Mido had a crush on," I reply with a humored smile.

"Classic Pipit," Zelda says with a shake of the head.

"What a dick move, huh?"

"Oh, stuff it, Mido," she says. "You don't want her—you want Saria."

I chuckle as Mido's face grows red and he stammers, "Not true! Why does everyone think that?!"

Zelda smiles playfully, then turns her attention to me, effectively ignoring the redhead. "You okay? Last I saw you, you slammed a door in the professor's face."

I sigh, then slowly nod. "Yeah. I'm just not gonna take any crap from that old geezer."

She smiles, then decides to change the subject for my sake. "So, have you heard the story of Pipit and Karane yet?"

"Pipit and Karane? No. Why, is that a thing?" I ask dubiously. Karane seems like a quality girl—no offense to Pipit, but why would she settle for a guy like him?

"Heh, it's a long story," Mido murmurs. "Zel, would you like to do the honors?"

She nods. "Gladly. You see, at the homecoming dance last year, when we were all sophomores, Pipit and Karane… had the hots for each other." Zelda lowers her eyes to the table as a faint blush creeps to her cheeks—likely due to the subject matter.

"Yeah?" I urge her to continue, already intrigued.

Her blue eyes met mine. "So, um, they kissed that night, but soon Pipit's girlfriend showed up. Karane didn't know that he was still in a relationship, so she slapped him and stormed off. Next, Pip's girlfriend broke up with him for cheating on her and slapped him also."

"That wasn't his best night," Mido murmurs, taking a bite of a hot wing.

"Nope," Zelda agrees. "So after that night, Karane began ignoring Pipit. But since he was friends with her friends, it became harder for her to avoid him. Soon, Pipit apologized, and they became friends again."

"But he never changed? He's still a player?" I ask.

Mido shakes his head. "No. You'd think he would, but that's just the way he is."

Zelda nods solemnly. "We think his crush on Karane has resurfaced, but we're not sure. If he does like her, I know that Karane doesn't feel the same way—she's still a little mad at him for that one night."

"Do they hang out a lot since you're all friends?"

"Not too much," Mido replies.

Zelda sighs. "But we can tolerate Pipit. Sure, he tells dirty jokes and treats girls like garbage, but he's good company."

I look up to see Sheik heading toward us, with Malon clinging to his side. Both have wide grins on their faces as they stand before us. "Guys," Malon says, "we have an announcement."

"I know, they delayed The Legend of Zeruda Wii U to 2016!" groans Mido.

Malon squints. "…No, that's not it."

Sheik grins. "Malon is my girlfriend now."

Instead of cheering, hollering, and throwing a celebration, the new couple is met with some "Finally!"s from Zelda and Mido.

"…What do you mean?" Malon asks, slightly offended by the outburst.

Pipit claps a hand on each of their shoulders, causing them to shriek like nine-year-old girls—Sheik included. (People seriously need to stop sneaking up on others.) "They mean that it's about time you, Sheik, grew a pair and asked her out."

"Shut it, Pip," retorts Sheik. "At least I can get a quality girlfriend and not the dumb blondes you target."

Zelda grabs a strand of her golden hair, showing it to Sheik. "Ahem."

"Sorry, Zelda."

Pipit puffs out his chest confidently. "No, Sheik. I've had a ton of girlfriends. What's that phrase about quantity being better than quality…?"

"Quality is better than quantity?"

Pipit waves him off. "No, that's not it."

The couple and Pipit sit down in the circular booth, forcing Mido to slide all the way to the right side of me.

"Hey, Zel," says Pipit, "is Karane coming tonight?"

I catch Zelda's eye, and she offers me a slight smirk. "No, she couldn't make it. Homework."

"Oh, okay." He begins to chat with Mido, Malon, and Sheik about the girl at the counter while Zelda leans in to whisper something in my ear.

"Karane's my roommate. Pip always asks me if she's coming to our little get-togethers. You think that implies enough?" She raises her eyebrows.

In that moment, I am entranced by her beauty. Her blonde hair cascades down the sides of her perfect face in two bundles, tied together by ribbons, with the rest flowing down her back. I get lost in the pair of midnight-blue eyes that are locked with mine; my heart melts at the sweetness of her innocent smile.

Oh, don't call me soft, now.

Returning to reality, I nod sheepishly and turn my attention back to Pipit's story.

"…name is Natalie Brynna, daughter of the actress Lara Brynna! She just moved here from Lakeside. So you know what that means?"

"She doesn't know about your reputation as a jackass to women?" Sheik suggests.

"No—It means that she needs someone to show her around the city, so she gave me her number. It was that easy."

Mido glares indignantly at Pipit. "I still can't believe you stole her."

We quiet down as an unfamiliar gray-skinned guy saunters over to our table, wearing a white, long-sleeved shirt and a pair of ripped jeans with chains dangling out of the pockets. He flips his white hair flamboyantly as a sneer forms at his lips. Everyone gazes with contempt at this person, myself included.

Zelda subtly leans away from the edge of the booth and into me a tad. Normally I'd jump for joy in a situation like this, but with this creepy guy nearby, I'm stone-faced.

"So," he cooes, "you're the new kid."

I glare at him. "The name's Link."

"I didn't ask," he responds. He gazes at his nails, for some odd reason, and shrugs, bored. "I've been told to look for you, kid."

"By who?"

"A certain… large person," he replies, eyes narrowing as a sadistic grin forms at his white lips.

My eyes widen. A large person? If I assume correctly, there is a large person who said he would find me, so could this guy be one of his followers? Could this guy be—what were they, Girl-hymn or Goatee?

"Just move on along, Ghirahim," Sheik grumbles, shooting him a threatening glare.

That's right. Ghirahim. Now what's the other potential gangster's name…?

His long-sleeved shirt covers his wrist, I note. Could he be hiding the M.O.D.'s crescent symbol? I need to tell Shad about this.

No—that would waste time. I'll just need to follow this guy, wherever he goes, myself.

Ghirahim shrugs again, then turns to leave our presence.

"You are the kid he described," Ghirahim says. "Vaati was right. Goodbye, then, Gaiden. I'll report that I've found you."

"Report to who?!" I demand. But Ghirahim is already on his way out of the lounge.

"Link—" Zelda warns.

I turn to meet her concerned gaze. "Yes?"

"That's Ghirahim Daemon. He and Vaati Anemoi are supposedly in a gang. Try to stay away from them, okay?"

As if I haven't heard that enough.

"Is Vaati that purple freak?"

"Yes," says Pipit. "He was the guy we saw outside the dorm today."

I bite my bottom lip, pondering. Should I follow them and risk my life? Or should—

Wait.

What about my new strength? Surely, I'll be okay, but I cannot say the same thing for Ghirahim and Vaati. I've made up my mind. I'm going to follow this Matt Damon wannabe.

"…There's something I have to do," I mutter, sliding toward the edge, indicating for Zelda to let me pass. She does so hesitantly, standing up from the booth. I do as well, throwing a "Don't wait up" over my shoulder as I begin to walk toward the exit.

"Link!" they protest.

But I'm already gone.

I burst through the double doors and emerge in the brisk night air. It's dark, save for the torchlight of the sconces on the academy walls. Surveying the area, I spot Ghirahim donning a dark cloak near a tree several yards away. Realizing I'm detectable, I kneel down next to the hedge on my left, silently observing.

"Ready to go?" asks a distant voice.

Ghirahim turns, addressing the similarly-cloaked person. "Yes, Vaati."

They set off toward the street. I pursue them, staying low to the ground and padding my feet lightly against the grass to minimize noise.

"Did you check for followers?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because anyone who follows us will get pummeled."

That's what you think, I muse as I take cover behind a tree trunk. I pull the sweatshirt's hood over my head, then continue my pursuit.

Ghirahim and Vaati are now off campus and are trotting eastward down the sidewalk—toward the city. That can only mean one thing.

I stay off the sidewalks, creeping along cautiously. My foot catches on a branch, and I trip and faceplant in the grass. "Shit," I whisper, scrambling to my feet.

"Someone's here," one of them says.

My eyes widen. I search frantically for a hiding spot before realizing with dread that I'm in an open area. Unless I can plow through the thick, ten-foot-tall hedge behind me, I'm screwed.

"It came from over there."

Without thinking, I leap upward, soaring through the air and hurtling over the hedge. I land painlessly on the other side, eyes wide in disbelief. "The hell?" I mutter, staring in awe at my glowing hand.

"There's no one there, idiot."

"I swear I heard something."

"Quit being so timid, Vaati."

"Shut your damn trap."

"Then don't give me a reason to open it."

As they bicker, my heart sinks when I hear the low rumbling sound of a growl. I couldn't have walked that far—are there guard dogs on campus?! That's awesome!

…But right now it kinda sucks.

Two golden eyes of a doberman are locked with mine as the slobbering creature slowly paws its way over to me. I gulp fearfully, then remember my recently discovered awesomeness.

I leap back over the hedge, grinning with excitement from my insane hops. The dog whines in defeat, then scampers away from the hedge.

What part of campus is this, anyway? It's surrounded by hedges and has a freaking doberman inside. I then catch sight of a sign that reads: PRIVATE PROPERTY—HEADMASTER'S LIVING QUARTERS. Oh. That makes sense. Sort of.

Now I know not to either a) break into Gaepora's property, or b) mess with him and/or Zelda. That dog's scary.

After about fifteen minutes of stealthy pursuit, I hear the familiar noises of Castle Town—shuffling feet, honking horns, and the jubilant shrieks of women who find designer shoes on sale.

Soon the suburban grass is replaced with pavement and buildings. Should I follow them on the sidewalk and risk detection, or should I scale the building in front of me?

Hmm. Tough one.

In order to test out my full capabilities, I lunge upward, grasping for ledges and propelling off of whatever footholds I can find. As I pass a window of the tall building, the unfortunate workers inside with late-night shifts yelp in fear and shock at the sight of me. In less than thirty seconds, I arrive on the rooftop.

Impressive, huh?

I peer out over the edge of the roof, searching for the two cloaked guys. I spot them easily—the crowds part in a wide circle from these two; with their creepy cloaks and sadistic facial expressions, you'd think they're rapists. They bank off into an alley one building down. I break out into a run toward the other structure, then jump. Once on the neighboring roof, I gaze down into the alley. I'm not too high up, so thankfully I can hear what's being said.

"Shall we hit the lot?"

"It's still a little early; more cops might be on shift. Although, I'd like a challenge."

"Great."

"You go on along. I have some business to attend to."

I watch the taller figure, likely Ghirahim, continue down the alley until vanishing from site. They mentioned going to some sort of lot—perhaps there's a parking lot where they steal from vehicles. Vaati stays behind in the alley, suspiciously checking twice to see if he was truly alone.

In order to get a better view, I drop down ten or so feet onto a rickety balcony. The wooden planks creak under my weight, causing Vaati to frantically whip his head about. "Who's there?"

I crouch low to the balcony's floor, peeking out over the edge.

He shakes his head, sighs heavily, and turns his back. I squint at the wall he's facing, seeing a black graffiti symbol of a crescent moon. Vaati grumbles under his breath as he withdraws a can of spray paint from his cloak, carefully covering the M.O.D.'s symbol with a dark upside-down triangle. Next to it, Vaati sprays four letters, but I can't decipher them from all the way up here.

You know, enough is enough. Time to get to the bottom of this.

After pulling my hood far over my head, I hop down twenty feet, landing painlessly in the alley. "Your gang thinks it's funny goin' around killing innocent men?!" I shout, striding willfully toward him.

"Wha—?" Vaati turns around, dropping the can of graffiti to the pavement.

I lunge forward and pull him into a headlock, reaching for his right arm and pulling the sleeve back, searching for the crescent moon.

Instead, his wrist is bare.

Vaati struggles in my grip, driving an elbow into my gut. I grimace and release my hold on him, stepping back cautiously. "Hyrule Academy?" he snarls, gesturing toward the logo on my sweatshirt. "You've been following me, haven't you?" Sneering, Vaati withdraws a small pocket knife, flicking it open.

"I've got the cops coming," I lie in a deeper, disguised voice. "Put that away."

"Heh," he chuckles. "No."

Vaati swings his arm in an uppercut motion, attempting to drive the blade through my abdomen, but I sidestep it and throw an almighty punch straight at his ribcage. I can feel his bones crack beneath my knuckles as I make contact. He cries out in agony, clutches his upper body, then collapses with ragged breaths.

I turn to the wall Vaati had spray painted, studying the upside-down triangle and the letters next to it.

Y.U.G.A.

Before I can even think as to what that means, the shrill sounds of sirens blare through the night. Uh oh. If the cops see me here next to this heap of purple lying on the ground, they'll arrest me for gang violence.

A hoarse, croaking voice from behind me wheezes, "If… you're looking… for the… M.O.D., then… you've got… the wrong guy."

"I know," I mutter. "You don't have the tattoo."

"How… do you know… about that?" he asks, surprised. "Who… are you?"

I realize that Vaati is stalling, and I hear the sirens draw nearer, so I start to run toward the fence at the end of the alley.

"W-wait!" he cries out, coughing. "If… you want… Ghirahim… then he's… at the parking lot… a block down… that way.…" Vaati gestures toward the end of the alley, which likely has a street behind it leading to the lot.

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Dragmire's gang… needs to be… taken down." Vaati offers me a pained, sadistic grin.

Well, he's right, but we clearly have different motives for doing so, and differing desired outcomes of that situation. I roll my eyes, then leave Vaati in the alley. I leap over the fence, landing on a neighboring street. Continuing in the direction that Vaati pointed me in, I set out after Ghirahim.

Maybe I'll find Dragmire at the lot.

This thought urges me forward, to sprint at increasing speeds—inhuman speeds. Wait, how in Nayru's name am I able to run so fast? People, buildings, and lights are rushing past me in a blur.

I realize that, unlike the alley I was just in, the lot will probably have better lighting. Therefore, as to prevent Ghirahim from recognizing me, I'll need a better disguise rather than this hoodie. But what? Are there any disguise shops in Castle Town?

I stop running when I catch sight of the name of the street I'm on: W. Market Street. This is where my uncle was killed.

"Yoo-hoo!" shouts an all-too-familiar voice. "Come and get your masks! Quality, fun masks here! Reasonable prices!"

Ugh. It's Mr. Masca doing his overnight job.

Well, desperate times call for desperate measures, indeed.

I sigh heavily, then head toward my cranky biology teacher's brown Dodge truck. To avoid detection, I turn my Hyrule Academy hoodie inside-out and put it back on, throwing the hood over my head once again. This way, Mr. Masca can't see the logo on my sweatshirt, but I can keep the hood on.

"Hey," I say in a husky voice.

"Hello, valued potential customer! I am the Happy Mask Salesman! Would you like—"

"Hush, please," I caution.

He fixes his eyes on me with a confused glare. "Are you the one who the cops are after? In that case, I refuse to sell you my merchandise."

"No, they're not after me. But I think I'm being followed by someone." Well, the first sentence wasn't a lie.

"So you want a disguise, eh? Let me see what I've got. You'll want somethin' subtle, so you won't stand out in a crowd. Hmm…" Rupin digs through his backpack, eventually pulling something out with a triumphant "Aha!"

I study the item resting in his pale hands. It appears to be a pointy, forest green cap. "May I try it on?"

"Of course."

He's a lot more polite to customers than to his students, I note.

I throw the cap over my dirty-blonde hair, smoothing it out. A triangular point in the front hangs down below my eyebrows and shades my eyes. The cap flows in the back as I move.

"How does it feel?" the Happy Mask Salesman inquires.

"Makes me feel a little like Connor Kenway," I mutter under my breath, flipping the frontal point with my forefinger. "It's cool. I won't be recognized in this."

He smiles widely. "Of course. I feel like you were born to wear this cap."

"So how much?"

"Twenty rupees, please."

I dig in my pocket for a red rupee, hoping to Din I have one. Finally I pull one out, flip it to my biology teacher, take the green cap, and leave.

"Thank you, kind sir! Come again! Tell your friends!"

I will do neither of those things.

The inside-out sweatshirt is giving me an uncomfortable itch, so I take it off and fix it. If Ghirahim sees the Hyrule Academy logo, he won't recognize me, anyway; Vaati didn't, after all. (Or did he?) Next I throw on the cap, then continue north toward the lot.

The sirens grow increasingly distant, so either I'm just insanely fast or the police have stopped far back. Who are the cops after, anyway? Vaati, maybe? That would explain why the police stopped. But that means that they'll come after Ghirahim next.

Hmm, maybe if I take care of Ghirahim for them, they'll let me question him once he's arrested.

With this thought in mind, I leave W. Market Street and continue north one block, carefully merging within crowds of pedestrians to not seem too sketchy.

Finally I pass a run-down dental office and peer around the corner. Several dented, windowless, and spray-painted cars riddle the nearly-desolate parking lot. Above all this, a flickering sign reads: Gongoron's Parking. The "P" in "Parking" is slanted, dangling from one hinge and creaking ominously when the wind pushes it.

I take a deep breath, pull the front of my cap down a tad, and step cautiously into the parking lot. Swiveling my head, I search the area intently for Ghirahim, but I come up short.

Suddenly a car alarm goes off to my right. I frantically whip my head in that direction, noticing it's a police car, but no one is around it. My heart pounds vigorously against my chest.

The car alarm keeps ringing, over and over.

A cloaked figure comes out from underneath the shadows of the parking lot sign, and I scramble to hide behind a busted up Nissan. "I'm coming!" shouts the cloaked guy, heading toward the cop car. "I'm coming. Turn the damn horn off, Sakon."

The alarm stops, followed by two beeps that signal its deactivation. From behind the dental office comes a pale, bald man with the keys in his palm. He looks like a pasty, scrawny version of Vin Diesel, I muse. With his bland, gray eyes, the man—apparently named Sakon—gazes intensely at the cloaked figure. "You're much too late, Ghirahim. And take that cape off. You want to look professional for the boss."

Ganondorf is here? That means I can bring him to justice, also!

Ghirahim begrudgingly removes the cloak, tossing it against the hood of the cop car. "Is the boss ready to see me?"

Sakon snorts. "He was—a half hour ago. You know how impatient he gets."

"Then why'd you make me take off the—"

"Because it's dumb," he interrupts bluntly. "Now where is Vaati?"

Exasperated, Ghirahim rolls his eyes. "He had to stay back. I don't know why, but he should be here by now."

"Is he the reason the sirens were going off? If he was caught—"

"Dammit, he probably was," Ghirahim curses. "I just hope he can talk his way out of this one."

Sakon shakes his head, dropping his gaze to the hood of the police car. "I got the car from the station," he announces.

"Yeah, I saw it," Ghirahim grunts curtly. He taps the window of the glass. "Bulletproof?"

"Completely." Sakon gives him a stale smile. "The boss was very pleased."

"Shut up. You're not doing better than I am, Sakon; I tracked down the boss's next target—some kid at my school with inhuman strength."

Shit. Ganondorf was the "large person" Ghirahim mentioned—which means Ganondorf will know that I go to Hyrule Academy. Vaati's (probably and hopefully) already taken care of, so I don't have to worry about him. If I take care of Ghirahim before he can relay this information to Ganondorf, my cover won't be blown.

The police will just have to get here soon.

"Well at least I can make a deadline." As Ghirahim fumes at his comment, Sakon looks toward the street as the sounds of distant sirens re-emerge. "I'm going to go back to the station, see if I can get another car. You take this one. Maybe you can convince the cops to move Vaati into your car."

"How would I do that?"

Sakon shrugs, his face blank and devoid of emotion. "I don't know. But if you pulled that off, the boss would be pleased with you for once."

"Go to hell."

Sakon merely shrugs in reply, then breaks off into a nonchalant jog down the sidewalk.

Ghirahim disdainfully shakes his head, mutters something indecipherable under his breath, and opens the door of the police car. He plops down in the driver's seat, grabs the wheel, and sighs heavily. He doesn't start it, though; he's probably deciding whether or not to go through with Sakon's (admittedly, pretty careless) plan.

Now's my chance to initiate a careless plan. I dart out from behind the Nissan and out into the open, sprint to the stolen cop car, and wrench the door open.

Ghirahim whips his head in my direction, shouts a strangled, "Hey!" and tumbles out of the car as I throw him.

I stare down at him, fury blazing in my shaded eyes. I deepen my voice and demand through clenched teeth, "Where is the boss?!"

Ghirahim's eyes widen in fear. "A-Aghanim? Is… that you?"

"Aghanim?" I repeat. "No! Tell me where Dragmire is!"

"He's not here!" Ghirahim shouts, slowly rising to his feet. "And whoever you are… You must work for the Y.U.G.A.—Cia's not getting ahold of him anytime soon."

Y.U.G.A.? That's what Vaati spray painted over the M.O.D.'s symbol. Could that be another gang? Could Vaati be a traitor?

"What is this Y.U.G.A. you speak of?" I inquire through my husky Batman-like voice.

"You… don't work for them, do you?" he cooes. "Of course not! Look at your sweatshirt—you go to my school!"

I drop my gaze to the Hyrule Academy logo.

"And where was I directly before leaving for this mission?" he asks rhetorically, eyes narrowing. "The lounge."

Shit. He knows it's me.

"Which is where you were, Gaiden." Ghirahim sneers devilishly, slowly withdrawing a metallic pistol. "See, you may be extremely strong. But can you withstand a bullet?"

I snort. "Oh, please. You won't even hit me. I could shoot better than you with a Duck Hunt gun."

Ghirahim grumbles impatiently. "You know somethin', kid? You've made some bad choices. Why on earth would you enter the city where your killer is waiting? Why would you live there? And why would you follow one of his servants into the city in the middle of the night?"

I narrow my eyes at him, clenching my fists. "For revenge." As Ghirahim scoffs, taunting me, I can feel my fury rushing to my glowing hand, craving release. I set my feet, take in heavy breaths, and point my arm at him. The energy courses through my veins, until finally it reaches my fingertips, causing them to tingle and go numb, and it shoots out in one small, golden bolt of electricity.

Ghirahim yelps as it strikes his chest, thrashes violently against the side of the police car, then collapses against the pavement.

I stand there, my breath railing within my throat, then trot over to Ghirahim's unconscious body. Pulling down the sleeve, I check for the tattoo. On the wrist is, just as I'd suspected, the circular curve of a crescent moon, inked in an onyx black shade.

"The Men of Demise," I whisper to myself.

Sirens blare all around me, driving up and pulling to a stop in and around Gongoron's Parking. I yank the cap further over my face and scan the area. Nine cars, at least fifteen policemen.

"THIS IS CTPD. PUT YOUR HANDS UP AND REMAIN CALM."

Other cops mimic the megaphone by shouting, "Hands up! Hands up!" and pointing their guns… at me.

At me!

"Hey, hey!" I shout. "Don't be mad at me, now! I did your job for you!"

"SIR, PUT YOUR HANDS UP NOW."

"No—listen to me!" I plead. "I took care of this guy for you!" I make my way over to the lead car to plead my case further.

"WE HAVE AUTHORIZATION TO ENGAGE. STEP AWAY FROM THE VEHICLE."

I reluctantly obey, backing up hesitantly.

"PUT YOUR HANDS ON YOUR HEAD."

"What?!" I shout.

"PUT YOUR HANDS ON YOUR HEAD, SIR!"

I squint dubiously at the policemen.

"You know what, screw this."

I break off into a full sprint down the street, hearing the sirens grow increasingly distant as I continue.

Tuesday, October 10

"Link, I know it was you."

"It wasn't me."

"The evidence is incriminating. I know you did it. Please just confess."

"I'm not confessing to anything, Shad."

"You're my partner in this case, Link. With our combined efforts, you're making me look better to the chief. So I won't turn you in."

"You would do that?"

"Yes, so you can tell me."

"I didn't do it."

Detective Shad releases an exasperated sigh, leaning back into his chair. "Ugh. Look: you, Anemoi, and Daemon were all gone from the academy last night between the hours eight and ten. Anemoi was found lying unconscious in an alley near Market Street. Daemon was incapacitated beside a stolen police car in a run-down parking lot. When questioned, they both stated that you—Link Gaiden—were the one who did this.

"And not only that, we have footage of a five-foot-eleven male in a Hyrule Academy sweatshirt." He waves his hand outward, an accusative scowl on his forehead. "Could it be any more clear?"

"Listen, Officer—"

"Detective."

"Stuff it, rook. You're still an officer to me," I tease with a small smirk. Shad rolls his eyes. "I'm not admitting that I did anything. Honestly I think he—the guy that was there in the parking lot who kicked Daemon's ass—got totally screwed over by the cops. But I thought you were trying to help me solve the murder of my uncle, not this stupid misunderstanding."

Shad sighs heavily. "Unfortunately for you—or the hypothetical guy who kicked Daemon's ass in the parking lot—I was appointed to solve this stupid misunderstanding, as well as your uncle's murder."

"What?" I exclaim.

Great. So this guy is working with me and against me.

"Link, your case is much too important for me to take the other one seriously, so… I'll get the chief to drop it. No harm done." Just as I breathe a sigh of relief, he continues: "As long as you stay out of trouble and don't pop up on the headlines again."

"You mean as long as the hypothetical badass guy doesn't?" I correct with a grin.

Shad rolls his eyes again with a smirk. "Okay, now I definitely know it's you."

I tap my forefinger to my lips and grin deviously.