June, 2020: Warning: Unedited. Low quality.

COUNTING STARS

Chapter 6: Baller

Wednesday, October 11

"Where are you?" asks the voice from my cell phone.

"Home."

"Stop lying to me."

"In a junkyard."

There's a lengthy pause. "…Why?"

"For reasons I'm not willing to discuss."

"Link," Zelda whines. "It's nine-thirty. Shouldn't you be coming back?"

"In a bit."

"A bit? Do you know what can happen to you in 'a bit'? It's nine-thirty and you're in a freaking junkyard."

She's worried about me. That's actually really sweet. "I'll be fine, Zelda," I say wholeheartedly. "Thank you, though."

I hear Zelda sigh. "Alright. Just… be careful."

"I will," I say.

And for once, I actually mean it. Well, sort of. Tonight, I'm pushing my abilities to their limits. I'm going to see what all I'm capable of.

As soon as Zelda hangs up with a reluctant farewell, I pocket my cell phone and hurtle over an overturned Subaru. I clear it with ease, a good foot or so distanced between my foot and the car. Once I land, I will my legs forward down a straight path in the yard, pumping my limbs until they go numb and it feels like I'm simply flying.

Dragging the fingertips of my right hand on the dirt, I bank right, then sprint off toward another array of smashed cars. Once I near a banged-up Ford truck, I stretch out my arms and vault over it, bringing my legs up over my head in a backflip. I stick the landing, smirking to myself.

Before I can continue, a voice interrupts me. "I give it an eight out of ten. You were a bit shaky on your landing."

I whip my head toward the source of the voice, outstretching my glowing right hand in warning, the bolt of energy eager to escape my fingers.

"Stand down, soldier," it says. "I'm no threat. Well, I'm actually not sure about that."

I begin to panic. I'm pointing my light-blazing hand directly at the source of the voice, but I can't see a thing. It's all dark, shrouded in shadow under the cover of a faded blue tarp. Where is the voice coming from? Or what?

I'm met with a sudden rush of icy air, making my skin crawl. Danger. That's all my brain can think right now.

"Dude. Right here."

I whirl around, giving myself whiplash, and focus on the figure standing before me. My eyes widen. "…Sweet Din."

The figure grins, revealing sharp, pearl-white teeth. "I'm not a goddess, no. But I do appreciate the compliment."

He has familiar, wild and tousled jet-black hair, fierce red eyes, and an amused smirk set on his face. He wears a simple black tee, gray cargo pants, and dark Vans. Just like my outfit, but much darker, all in shades of black. And yes, he even has the same hat that I do. But what really sets off my instinctive run-away-right-now-and-don't-look-back senses is the fact that his body structure, expressions, and facial features completely mirror mine.

The figure laughs, using my voice as well. "Sorry, I know you're freaking out right now, but your expression is priceless."

Mouth agape, eyes wide, I simply stare at him.

"I guess I have some explaining to do, huh?" he asks.

I blink several times, trying to regain my composure. "For starters."

His red eyes drop to my right hand. "Care to show me that?"

I shake my head, jamming my hand into my pocket. "No."

"Well." My doppelganger narrows his eyes stubbornly. "From what I've seen of it, you're underdeveloped."

I blink. "…Underdeveloped?"

He nods. "Yep. I'll see you later, then."

"No—Wait!" I plead, but he's already leaving, disappearing in the shadow of a smashed vehicle.

Things just got a lot weirder in this city.

I stand there for a good five minutes, completely and utterly shocked, unsuccessfully trying to figure out just what the hell is going on.

At eleven-twenty, I arrive outside my dorm. I fumble around in my pocket for my key, then curse to myself as I come up short. I must've left it inside. So I knock on the door, expecting the worst from Sheik for waking him up this late.

Instead, to my clear surprise, Zelda answers the door.

I open my mouth to greet, "H—"

She slaps me across the face.

I dart my eyes back to her. "What the hell?"

Surprising me yet again, she just smiles warmly. "Sorry. Malon and I were watching some corny soap operas and it looked fun."

So that's what she's doing in my dorm. Visiting Malon, who's visiting Sheik. "So you're not mad about me lying to you and staying out in the city this late?"

She drops her eyes, squints, and ponders that for a moment. Then she reaches up and slaps me again.

"Ow!"

"Yeah, I guess I am pretty mad at you for that," she says, putting her hands on her hips. "Don't do that again."

"'Kay, Mom."

"Don't call me Mom either."

"Or you'll slap me again?"

"Damn straight."

I laugh. "So, boss, may I come in? …To my own dorm?"

"Boss… I like the way that sounds." Zelda smiles. "Yeah, come in. Sheik's crashed on the couch and so is Malon." She walks back in, with me following her, and motions toward the couch where the couple is lying fast asleep.

I squint. "Shouldn't Malon be getting back to her own dorm? I mean, aren't there rules against this?"

Zelda shrugs. "Nah, no one monitors that kinda stuff. As long as you show up to class, no one cares where you sleep." Her eyes widen when she realizes just how suggestive that sounded. A faint blush creeps up to her cheeks as she fumbles for words. "A-anyway… I-I should probably… go."

Unable to form my own words, I simply nod as she awkwardly moves past me. Before I know what I'm doing I am softly shutting the door. I then smirk to myself, finding humor in that situation. The way Zelda was flustered and blushing was actually pretty cute.

I sigh to myself, still smiling, and look at Malon and Sheik. So peaceful, so effortlessly perfect for one another. Granted, I don't know them very well, but from what I know of Sheik, he's head-over-heels in love with her.

It's nice, really.

It almost makes me want it. But not quite enough. For now, I'll do my best not to get too attached to anyone. For now… I'm more concerned about figuring out how to avenge my uncle's death. And I'm not sure if my new power will help me or hinder me from achieving that goal.

And the same goes for my new friends.

…Or my mysterious doppelganger.

With a heavy sigh, I collapse onto my bed, allowing the waves of exhaustion to will me to sleep.

Thursday, October 12

"Hey, meet me in the gym," Sheik's text message reads reads on my phone screen.

I roll my eyes, sighing, and sling my backpack over my shoulder, heading out of Mr. Minish's room.

"What's got ya down, kid?" asks Midna, catching up to me outside the classroom.

I shrug. "Not much. Just being bugged by my friends."

Midna grins. "They tend to do that."

I nod, continuing to walk at a slow pace toward the gym. Oddly, Midna comes with me, her eyes lingering on me for some time. I finally turn to look at her. "What?"

She's smirking—the smirk that makes me feel a little insecure, the smirk that makes me think she knows something that I don't. "Why'd you just straight-up leave?"

"Huh?"

She narrows her eyes at me. "Don't tell me you're trying Pipit's 'playing hard to get' tactic on Zelda."

"What—No," I say. "Are you saying you wanted me to meet up with Zelda?"

"Well, yeah," she says, blowing a bubble out of her strawberry gum. "Listen, kid. You've got a real shot."

My eyebrows raise.

Grinning, Midna continues: "I knew you were interested. I'm not promising that Zelda is, too, 'cause she never tells us about her romantic interests, but I have suspicions."

I squint. "Like what?"

Midna wags her finger at me, still smirking. "Figure it out yourself. Ask her to hang out sometime, will ya?" Without waiting for an answer, Midna turns and leaves.

I stand there, perplexed, until I get another text from Sheik. "Okay?" it reads.

"Fine," I reply hastily.

Pocketing my cell, I briskly stride toward the gym, wondering why Sheik wants me to meet him there. When I arrive at the double doors, I push my way through.

I scan the large room. At the center hoop, closest to the doors, the basketball team is practicing. I pick out the people I recognize: Groose, Drake, and Dirk. Three of the remaining six are the bunch of jerks who were hitting on Zelda before. But the other three, I don't know.

The volleyball team isn't here today; maybe practice was canceled or something. Other students with nowhere else to be are sitting up in the bleachers, doing homework or working on projects. At the base of the bleachers, a petite girl—I think she's Agitha—is painting on one of her own projects.

I spot Sheik, who waves to get my attention, sitting at the top of the bleachers to my right. I begrudgingly make my way over there, climbing the fifteen or so steps to the top. "Why am I meeting you here?" I ask, plopping down dramatically next to him.

"Your friend Talo called this morning while you were still asleep, so I answered it. He told me you said that you weren't gonna join the basketball team."

"…Where are you going with this?"

"I want you to see how awful these excuses for athletes are. Then maybe you'll agree to join the team."

"I'm not gonna be on the same team as these idiots."

"You'll be the star! You'll get scholarships!"

I squint. "How good do you think I am?"

Sheik shrugs. "I don't know. Never seen you play. But Talo compared you to LeBron James, so I figured you had to be pretty good. Either that or you flop a lot."

I smirk.

"But seriously!" Sheik exclaims. "Just look at 'em!" He points to someone, Groose, who chucks the ball off of the backboard, not even close to the rim. "They're an embarrassment to this school."

"I can see that."

"So…?"

"Still no."

"Dammit. Please?"

"No."

"Pretty please?"

"Nuh-uh."

"I'll be your best friend."

"Nah, I'll take Pipit instead."

"You wouldn't dare."

"Right. But still no."

Sheik sags against the back wall, heaving a sigh. "I guess it's another zero-win season, then. Hey, why haven't we ever played against Ordonia?"

"'Cause it didn't have a high school," I reply with a shrug, "and still doesn't."

"Oh," Sheik replies solemnly, nodding.

The doors open again, and in comes Ruto—or is it Lulu?—dragging a reluctant Zelda into the gym. "Come on!" I hear the twin, whoever it is, say to Zelda.

"Why do we have to do homework in here?" she asks.

"'Cause I've got nowhere else to go. Plus, these guys are hot." It must be Ruto, I mentally note.

Zelda scoffs. "They are not."

They make their way over to the far end of the same set of bleachers, without noticing me or Sheik.

"Well, I think they are," Ruto says.

"You think everyone's hot, Ruto," Zelda replies.

"Not everyone. Groose isn't."

Zelda giggles. "Tell that to him."

"I gladly will." Ruto sits down on the bottom step, patting the seat next to her. "But you know who is hot?"

Zelda rolls her eyes. "Who is it this time?"

Ruto smiles. "That Link Gaiden boy. Hot."

Sheik nudges me. "You hear that? You've got an admirer already!"

I shake my head. "No thanks."

Grinning, Sheik nods. "Oh, right. My bad. I forgot she wasn't Zelda."

I elbow him in the ribs.

"Seriously," Ruto says with growing excitement, "I'm thinking about going after him. He looks like a keeper, huh?"

I mutter to myself, "Oh, please don't go after me…"

Sheik squints. "What's your deal with her? Don't like her?"

I shrug. "Pipit told me he dated her in eighth grade. Clingiest girl ever. And whiney, too."

"Not your type, I'm assuming," Sheik chuckles.

The two girls quiet down their conversation, so I can no longer eavesdrop.

I watch as Groose misses another three-point shot, and the ball smacks off the rim toward the bleachers. It bounces straight into Agitha's bottle of paint, knocking it over and spilling black paint all over her project. Agitha shouts, "Hey!"

Groose just snickers. "Whoops."

I sigh heavily and grunt, "Dammit." Dropping my backpack next to Sheik, I descend the bleachers and walk over to Agitha's ruined project. She'd painted a butterfly, and it was actually quite good, but black paint has stained the entire left portion of it. I shake my head, reaching down to pick up the ball that had gone astray.

Dirk pointed at me from the baseline, prompting Groose to turn and see. He sneers at me. "You gonna give me my ball?"

I shrug, walking out to the three point line. "You know, why don't you just take it from me?"

Groose snorts, remaining at the free throw.

"Go on, Groose," Drake urges, "just take it from him."

"Yeah, take it, Groose," the other players join in.

Groose grumbles, begrudgingly succumbing to the pressure of his teammates, and reaches out for the basketball. Keeping my eyes locked with his, I effortlessly toss the ball into the air, sending it soaring upward and bouncing off the ceiling before it returns to my grasp. Groose stands there, confused, as if he were assigned a third grade math problem.

"What's wrong, Groose?" I bait. "Can't take it from me?"

Groose snarls, fury blazing in his golden eyes, and lunges at me. I grip the basketball in both hands and leap upward, hurtling over Groose in a frontflip. As he whirls around, a vein bulging out of his meaty forehead, I can't hold back my laughter.

"You little twerp!" he bellows, bounding forward in attempts to tackle me.

I roll my eyes and spin the ball on my finger, waiting for the perfect moment. As he draws nearer, I bounce the ball between his legs—a little trick Talo taught me—and vault off of Groose's shoulders with my palms, flipping forward and sticking the landing. I recover the ball, spinning it on my finger once more. "What?" I ask. "Can't catch me?"

He shakes his head contemptuously. "You've got nothin'."

"Nothing?" I repeat with an incredulous grin. "You've got a lot to learn."

With that, I dribble around him, then leap upward in the air, soaring higher than Jordan ever did. I flip forward in the air, gripping the ball tightly, and two-hand slam it into the basket.

The rim groans in protest as I grip it, and the entire backboard bends with my weight, shattering the glass into thousands of pieces and raining down on me. I fall as the rim breaks off it hinges; when I land, rim still in my grip, I look around with trepidation. One thought comes to mind.

Oh, shit.

"Disrespecting teachers, skipping detention, and now destroying academy property?!" Headmaster Gaepora exclaims. "Link, I'm beginning to regret inviting you here."

"That's funny," I mutter, "because I'm regretting coming here."

He squints. "Why's that?"

Sighing, I hang my head. "I don't belong here. The teachers made that clear. People like Groose made that clear."

Mr. Harkinian cocks his head. "And you let that bother you?"

I shrug. "I know I shouldn't, sir, but come on! My uncle died! And these rich people have no boundaries. They don't care about me; they care about themselves and how my inclusion in this school hurts their image." I wave my hand outward pathetically, fighting the tears that blur my vision. "This just… sucks."

"Is that why you are treating the teachers the way you are? Because you associate them with the rich-person stereotype?"

I ponder that for a bit. "…No. I treat them the way they treat me. Like I'm not worthy of their attention."

"But why?"

"For one thing, those two jerks deserve it, and for another, I have trouble trusting adults. I always have, since I grew up in a town where the adults worked all the time and the children were left to mingle amongst themselves, and I still do—maybe more than ever. You know, 'cause of the… the murder," I explain, choking out the last word.

"Ah." The headmaster nods. "I see."

"Look," I sigh, "I'm sorry for causing a ruckus in your perfect little academy. I'll pay to replace the hoop, and if you really want me to leave, I will."

"You're not leaving my school, Link," Gaepora assures me. "Well, that would be your choice, but I am not expelling you. You think breaking a seven-year-old basketball hoop is crossing the line?"

"…Yes?"

"Well, it isn't," he responds with a light chuckle. "I have heard about certain people participating in gangs. I never kicked them out."

"Because they find a way to pay for tuition," I say.

"Well, that too. But I don't expel them because I believe everyone has character flaws, but they do not necessarily affect overall character. You, from what I've noticed, need to learn how to interact with adults…. And how to dunk softer."

I grin. "Yeah, clearly. Send me the bill for the hoop."

He hesitates, but nods nonetheless. "Okay, Link. You are dismissed."

I leave the headmaster in his office, gingerly stepping out into the hall. I feel a few pairs of eyes on me, so, humiliated, I shoulder my backpack and head off toward the exit.

"What did he say?"

I halt, turning on my heel to see Zelda standing a few feet away. "Well," I begin, shrugging, "I covered the cost of the replacement."

Her expression saddens. "Oh…" Likely, she feels bad that I have to pay for something that's moderately expensive, considering my state of poverty.

Unable to find words, I just lower my eyes and offer a small nod. We stand there, awkwardly, shyly, neither of us meeting the other's eyes. Rubbing the back of my neck, I remember what Midna had said to me.

"Ask her to hang out sometime, will ya?"

That's it. I'm gonna do it.

After an unbearable silence, Zelda slowly turns to leave. "Hey," I say, halting her.

She turns back around, her dazzling, bright blue eyes meeting mine. "Yes?"

Now's your chance, Link. Open your mouth, and speak words. Do it. Now. "Maybe we could…" I start to say, fumbling for words. "I don't know… um…"

Oh no. Don't choke, Link. Just speak, dammit!

I meekly rub the back of my neck as Zelda raises her eyebrows. "Uh… maybe… we could… um…" I hesitantly meet her eyes. "Or we could… um…"

Her lips slowly form into a smile. "Yeah," she says excitedly. "Yeah, either one."

I grin, laughing a bit at my earlier cowardice. "Alright, cool. Great. So…?"

Her smile widens. "Come on. I have a place in mind that you'll want to see." Grabbing my hand, she pulls me out of the school.

"Castle Park," Zelda exhales, a wide smile painted on her features as we step onto the green grass. "My favorite place in the city."

Birds chirp from bright October trees, singing various tunes, but still in perfect harmony. The brisk breeze gives me a bit of a chill, so I rub my arms to keep warm. "Never been here," I say, observing the picturesque scenery, "but I already like it."

Zelda turns around and smiles at me, motioning to a park bench set just off the winding, paved trail that leads through the park. "Wanna sit?" she asks.

I nod, joining her on the bench. "Your favorite part of the city?" I ask her; she nods. "How come?"

Zelda intakes a breath of the crisp autumn air. "My mother used to take me here when I was little. She, um… passed away when I was six."

"Oh," I say solemnly, "I'm sorry."

She gives me a half smile. "Thanks. I'm pretty much over it—I mean, I miss her of course, but I don't really… cry about her that much anymore."

I nod slowly, thinking. Zelda went through exactly what I'm going through right now, except she was just a kid. She was six years old, yet so strong. She transcended her mourning.

When I, deep in thought, don't say anything, Zelda taps me on the shoulder and points outward. "Look up there."

I look in the direction she points, seeing a cluster of towering trees in the center of the massive park. "The trees?"

"Yeah. Hold on a sec," she says, reaching into her backpack. She takes out a pair of binoculars and hands them to me. "Look at the tallest tree."

I peer into the lenses, moving them so I find the tree that juts out into the sky the most. I squint, focusing in on what I can see. There, caught in the uppermost branch, is a magnificent golden harp.

"It's been up there since I can remember," Zelda tells me. "Many believe the goddesses themselves dropped it on that tree for someone special to retrieve it, but no one has. In fact I'm surprised the fire department hasn't come to get it down… I've never told anyone this, but I've always secretly wanted to have that harp. It's beautiful, you know?"

Lowering the binoculars, I smile, then turn to look directly at Zelda while saying, "Yeah, it really is."

"Someday… it will come down. And I'll be jealous of whoever gets it."

My smile widens. Well, Zelda, I think to myself, then it's my goal to someday get that harp down for you.

Friday, October 13

Well, it's Friday the thirteenth. And you know what that means. Trouble.

"You fucking prick!" Groose roars, winding up his arm.

Before I can react, the brute's meaty fist connects with my nose, shattering the bridge of it. I involuntarily take the hit, close my eyes, and breathe in deeply. When I reopen them, I'm punched again, this time in the jaw. I recoil slightly, take another calming breath, then fix my eyes on him sternly.

"No one makes me look like a wimp!" he bellows, golden eyes blazing with fury.

I snort. "Except for yourself."

Groose roars again, throwing his fist straight at my face for the third time.

Keep cool.

Take the hit.

Don't abuse your power.

Blood pours out of my nose as I take two steps back, blinking to clear my blurring vision. I wipe it away with the back of my hand, maintaining my intense glare.

"HEY!" hollers a familiar voice. We both turn to see Pipit dashing towards us, a furious scowl set firmly on his features, and carrying of all things a watermelon in the crook of his arm. "Beat up on my friend, and you get melon'd!" He hucks the heavy fruit at Groose's head, and it splits open at contact with his pudgy face before falling on the pavement.

Groose grimaces and stomps on the pieces of melon before glaring furiously at Pipit, whose eyes gradually widened. The brute throws another punch, his fist colliding with Pipit's temple. The boy's eyes roll back, and he cripples to the ground. Knocked out.

That does it.

I wind up my arm, summoning a marginal amount of force, just enough to teach him a lesson, and throw a punch. My fist connects with his meaty upper body, and he just freakin' soars backward. Knocking into a garbage can, Groose flips over, landing face-down on the sidewalk. He lies there, mortified, eyes locked with mine.

I kneel down next to the unconscious Pipit. People gather nearby, chatting amongst themselves, but I notice no familiar faces. Soon, though, Mikau and Darmani rush over to my side, helping me gingerly lift Pipit to his feet, and Darmani ends up carrying him entirely by himself.

Groose struggles to rise to his feet by himself. I storm over to him, gripping the fabric of his shirt and putting on the most furious face I can muster up at the moment. "You damn K.O.'d my friend!"

Groose grasps my wrist, trying to pry my iron grip off his chest, but I hold it steadfast.

"You hang out with a gang, you never give Zelda any space, and you beat up on my friends!" I shout, knuckles turning white. "You know what, pompadour? I've been training to avenge my uncle. Fuck off, or you'll keep being my practice dummy."

He blinks several times, fixing me with an expression of the utmost confusion. All he can muster up is to wheeze, "How…?"

I leave him there, feeling dozens of pairs of eyelids on my back as I go over to my trio of friends.

"He got hit pretty good," Mikau comments, pointing to his bruised temple.

"I'ma beat the gods-damned life outta that oaf," Darmani grunts through gritted teeth.

"Don't," I warn, stealing a glance behind me. Groose has fallen to his knees, unfocused eyes wide and unblinking, looking at nothing in particular. "He's gonna get his act together soon. Just look at him. He's confused as hell."

"He'd better get his damn act together," Darmani mutters. "Ain't no one gonna beat up on my bros."

"We should get Pipit back to his dorm," Mikau suggests.

I shrug, jeering, "I feel like if we just leave him here he'll sleepwalk into some random girl's bed."

Darmani and Mikau glare at me.

"What, just 'cause Pip's knocked out I can't make a joke?"

"Whatever, man," Darmani grunts. "I'm gonna go take him up there now."

"I'll come with," Mikau announces.

"You guys go on ahead," I say, waving them off. "Sorry, but I've got… something."

When they leave, I break off into a light jog toward the edge of campus, eluding the scrutiny of shocked peers.

I've got some crap to figure out.

The sun begins to set, painting the sky in a pinkish hue. I spend no time admiring the scenery, instead tightening my grip on my backpack straps and trudging down the sidewalk toward the abandoned junkyard I was at two days ago.

The streets seem oddly desolate; it forces a chill to run down my spine. Every now and then I'll see a pedestrian, but every time they are walking swiftly and hastily away from where I'm heading. I pick up my pace, determined to get to the bottom of this.

As I progress, the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, my golden hand starts to tingle, and a bead of sweat trickles down my forehead. The sun is now completely set.

A streetlight flickers ominously overhead, sporadically throwing white light on the blacktop ground. It's eerily quiet as I enter the junkyard, stopping at the entrance and scanning the area for my person of interest. Or—more accurately—thing of interest.

"You know," cooes a voice behind me, "modern culture warns you of being out at night on this particular date."

I whirl around, coming face-to-face with none other than my doppelganger. An unattractive scowl set on my features, I growl, "You."

"Me," he agrees with a sly nod.

Silence.

I maintain my fierce glare, clenching my fists, but say nothing as I wait for him to explain.

"Look," he says, "I'll make you a deal."

"No thanks," I grunt, raising my glowing hand in threat. "You'll tell me what I need to know."

He cringes at the light, squinting and covering his eyes with a hand to protect his eyesight. "…Don't think so," he spits out stubbornly.

Frustrated, I snarl, thrusting my arm forward and releasing the energy from my fingertips, sending a bolt straight at him. In a flash, he loses all form and sinks into a black puddle on the ground, the bolt passing harmlessly overhead. Then he rises up from the puddle, back to his original state. I stare at him with disbelief and indignation, sputtering out, "W-what?!"

My shadow simply smirks. "Like I said—let me make you a deal. You get out of here before you're killed, and I will explain things to you eventually."

"Why would you care if I'm killed?"

"Link," he says.

...I never told him my name.

Recognizing my confusion, the shadow smirks again. "They might not know it yet, but everyone would care if you were killed."

I thrust my arms out pathetically. "Stop speaking in gods-damned riddles!"

He rolls his eyes. "Fine. You are important to this world. Happy?"

"No!"

"Well suck it up."

I blink.

"You certainly are courageous," the shadow comments. "I'm impressed. 'Kay. You want answers? Follow me." He starts off toward the junkyard's exit, pauses, and turns back to me. "And don't die."

"I'll try," I murmur, following my doppelganger out of the junkyard.

At the barbed-wire fence, he raises a hand in warning, halting our progress. Poking his head around and surveying the area, he picks something up from a pile of scraps.

"What the heck is that?"

"It's my own personal invention," he says with a devilish grin, showing me his weapon. It looks to be a lead pipe with a sharp metal scrap sticking out of one end.

"It's a ghetto axe," I idly comment.

"More like a halberd," he corrects. "Trust me; it works."

"What do you use it against?"

He bites his lip. "…Things."

"I swear, if you're some kind of murderer, I will murder you."

"No!" he refutes. "I would never use it against a human."

He used the word "human."

…That means he is inhuman.

What the hell.

"Keep up," he instructs. "You'll see what I use it against soon."

I groan, rolling my eyes in meager protest, but reluctantly follow him, making sure to pick up a discarded shovel, just in case. "Who are you?"

"I'm me."

"'Me'? So I'm gonna call you 'Me' from now on?"

"Oh, right. I forgot that you humans label each other with proper nouns."

I blink in surprise.

He shrugs, tapping his foot a few times in thought. "Just… call me… Dark."

"Dark what?"

He blinks at me.

"Last name? You know, like Link Gaiden?"

"Can I take yours?"

"No."

"What about Souls?"

"Dark Souls? No way."

He groans. "Kidd?"

"That'll sound racist."

"Ness?"

"I'm pretty sure there are some copyright issues there," I say with a shrug. "Dark Ness, though? Clever."

"So can I…?"

"No."

"Dang it," he mutters. "What about… Night?"

I shake my head. "Dark Night sounds cliché. It's kind of cool, though."

He nods. "Then how about Nyton? And I can spell it cool—N-Y-T-O-N. Doesn't that sound sexy?"

"If it did, I'd be concerned," I murmur. "Dark Nyton sounds good though."

"Yes!" he exclaims, pumping a fist in the air. Then he turns to grin at me. "See, we're already bonding."

I roll my eyes, sighing. "Can we just get to the point where—"

Dark's eyes widen suddenly. "Shhh!" he whispers forcefully, grabbing my arm and yanking me into an alley.

"What?!" I grunt, gripping the shovel in my right hand tightly.

"Quiet," he whispers in response, peeking out into the streets. When Dark returns, he looks even more concerned than before. "I'm being hunted."

"Hunted?"

"Yes," Dark spits out with haste.

"I guess you'll 'explain later', huh?" I ask in a dull tone.

He nods.

I roll my eyes, whispering, "Fine. Let me see." I shove past Dark, who grips his ghetto halberd fearfully, and I peek around the corner into the street.

In the middle of the deserted road stands an enormous man, with dark, milky-brown skin covered mostly by his black leather outfit. His unzipped jacket reveals a gray tank with a black crescent moon pattern. A black beanie rests on the man's thick head, and he swivels his head left and right. His authoritative, thunderous voice calls out into the night: "I know you're here, shadow boy!"

Dark presses his back against the wall, saying, "I'm still not too familiar with this era's lingo—what's the phrase I would use in this situation?"

"Oh, shit."

"Yes, thank you. Oh, shit." He pauses. "Yeah, that works."

"Who is that guy?"

"His name is Onox," Dark replies meekly.

I then remember the symbol on the man's gray shirt. The crescent moon. "…He's in the M.O.D., isn't he?"

Dark fixes me with a puzzled look. "You've already encountered them?"

"Yeah," I reply with visible confusion. "Ganondorf killed my uncle. Wait... What do you mean, 'already'?"

"…Nothing. Okay. Link. I need a really big favor from you. Will you do it for me?"

I squint. "Depends on the favor."

"I need you to go out there and kill that guy."

"Um, no."

"Why not?"

"'Cause I have morals."

"What do your teeth have to do with anything?"

"Not molars, you idiot. Morals."

Dark waves his arm outward pathetically. "Please, Link! He's going to bring me back to Gan—" Dark freezes.

I blink at him. "He's going to bring you… 'back' to Ganondorf?!"

Dark cringes. "…Oh, shit?"

I shake my head dubiously. "You've met with him?!"

"UGH!" he shouts out in frustration. "Fine! You want me to explain? I'll explain, dammit! Look—"

"Dark—"

"—Ganondorf Dragmire possesses some kind of ultimate power but I'm not entirely sure what it is so I'm not gonna tell you about it—"

"Dark."

"—and he used that power to open up a portal and bring forth some servants from my world which, in fact, is called the dark world but it isn't really as evil as it sounds, except for the monsters—"

"Dark!"

"—And he only took a few creatures at first since he still hasn't learned to utilize the full potential of his power but soon enough he's going to bring a lot more monsters to this world and we need to stop him or he's going to take over Hyrule Castle and I'm pretty sure no one wants that to happen, but the point is, I'm a creature called a shadow from the dark world, and I snuck through the portal and escaped his lair to the junkyard where I saw you and noticed your potential and copied your physical form. While I'm in this form, Ganondorf can't control me with his power so that's why he's sent that huge guy to come after me and he's going to bring me back to Ganondorf!"

"DARK!" I yell, turning him around.

At the entrance to the alley, casting an ominous shadow onto the two of us, stands Onox, a victorious sneer on his face. "I've got you, shadow boy."

Dark gulps, quivering in fear as he clutches the lead pipe. I stand my ground, right hand blazing as I raise my shovel in warning.

Onox laughs heartily, reaching behind him to take out his own weapon from his belt—a chrome pistol.

"…Dark?"

"Yeah, Link?"

"Oh, shit."