June, 2020: Warning: Unedited. Low quality.

COUNTING STARS

Chapter 7: Minor

Friday, October 13

"Hey."

"Mmnnh…"

"Link."

"…Mngh."

"Wake up."

"Five more… m-minutes…"

Snap! Snap!

I snap my eyes open, seeing much darkness and only a faint yellow light above, and I blink to clear my blurred vision. When I focus, I see someone's hand snapping numerous times in front of my face. "I'm up," I grumble, propping myself up on my elbows.

"Good. You remember what happened?"

Groggy, I sputter out without any help from my muddled thoughts, "I… punched Groose?"

"No, kid, you didn't punch any goose. But you did beat the living hell out of Onox, that's for sure."

I propel myself up, finally regaining my composure, and realize that I'm sitting beside an old building next to Dark. "…What, now?"

"Your shovel," Dark says with a mischievous grin, gesturing to the gardening tool that lies next to me. "You smacked it on his head. K.O.'d instantly. Kudos to you, kid."

I squint incredulously at him. "Then… why did I lose consciousness?"

"Oh, right. 'Bout that." Dark's grin widens. "You hit him so hard that the shovel bounced off his head and smacked you. You knocked yourself out—literally."

"Go me."

"Yeah!" Dark exclaims, clapping a hand on my shoulder. "Keep it up, Link, and we'll soon be the dynamic duo."

"For what?"

Dark rises to his feet, offering to help me up as well. I allow him to pull me up, wobbling slightly from my recent slumber. "Monster hunting," he answers with a wicked smile.

"Monster hunting," I repeat dubiously. "Like a pair of superheroes."

"Exactly! I'll be Dark Guy, and you can be Light Guy!"

"Those are probably some of the dumbest superhero names I've ever heard."

"Two words: the Thing." He narrows his eyes. "I beg to differ."

I roll my eyes impatiently, groaning, "But monsters? What are you talking about?"

"Do you remember nothing from what I told you a few hours ago?"

"Not really, no."

Dark sighs heavily. "Ugh. Fine. I will re-explain." Clearing his throat, he begins: "First of all, I am not from your world."

"I got that, yeah."

He blinks. "You did?"

"Yes," I respond with a small nod. "Here's a tip: if you want to try and be a human being, don't call people 'humans'. That's when they get a bit suspicious."

"Huh," Dark muses, shrugging. "Guess you learn somethin' new every day."

I stare at him expectantly.

He sits there, wiping a mark off of his ghetto halberd, admiring it.

"Dark."

"What?"

"The story."

He grins. "Oh. Right. So, I am a being from a place called the dark world—it isn't that bad of a place, so don't worry about me being a monster or somethin'."

"The dark world," I repeat. "…Is that what you call hell?"

"Hell… hmm. A portion of that world could be considered hellish—that's where the monsters are bred. But for the most part, no. Like the light world that we're in today, my world has different parts."

"Like what?"

"Well, you see, there's the monster place that I mentioned, and an area of complete and utter blackness—that's where I'm from. And there are probably a few other areas I've never heard of."

I squint. "Blackness? That's where you're from? Just a big heap of… nothing?"

Dark laughs heartily. "It isn't nothing, Link. It's something. Just… impossible to see, hear, smell, touch, or taste, 'cause we didn't have those abilities."

"'We'?"

"Yeah, there are more of me. Shadows, I mean. We communicated by openly expressing thoughts in our own language."

"…So you can hear thoughts."

He shakes his head. "Not in this body, no. Don't worry, your secrets are safe."

I nod meekly, dropping my eyes to the pavement.

Dark seems to notice. "Feeling overwhelmed?"

I snort. "A little. But a lot of crazy shit's been going on so I've decided to just go with it."

"Good, 'cause it's only gonna get more confusing."

"Thanks."

Dark nods. "So I bet you're wondering how I got here."

"A little."

"Well, let's back up a bit. You're familiar with Ganondorf, correct?"

I glare at him. "Yes."

"Well, you see, he's kind of… evil."

"You don't say."

"I do say."

I cock my head. "Dark, it's an expression."

"What's an expression?"

"What I said."

"What did you say?"

"You don't say."

"Yes I do!"

"Dark!" I exclaim. "Never mind. Just keep going."

Dark whistles. "Anger issues." When I roll my eyes impatiently, he continues: "So. G-dorf is some evil dude who seeks power. And somehow, he got power. I don't know what kind, but I know it can't be good."

I don't really like where this is going.

"Anyway, he used that power to open up a portal between dimensions—light and dark."

"Why?"

"Because—" He stops, looking over his shoulder. "Dammit. Stand up, and get your shovel ready."

Without a reason to protest, I obey, raising my shovel. Dark narrows his eyes at a garbage can across the street, holding his lead-pipe-halberd-thing at the ready. "What's going on?" I ask frantically.

"Just watch," he instructs.

I do. The garbage can rattles loudly, thrashing left and right until it topples over and spills out a blob of purple goo. I watch in fascination as a figure rises out of the substance and takes form. Its skin takes a burgundy hue, and its oversized head droops awkwardly over its bare chest. Gaunt arms wield the trash can lid as a makeshift shield as it hobbles toward the two of us.

"What the hell is that thing?!" I demand in a hushed voice.

He seems to relax. "Just a bokoblin," he replies with a shrug. "No biggie."

"No biggie?" I repeat incredulously.

Dark chuckles. "You humans are hilarious. Watch 'n learn, rookie."

Dark casually strides over to the creature, which grunts at him, and bludgeons it upside the head. The bokoblin whines, falling on its back, then disappears in a puff of purple smoke.

Dark whirls around, arms outstretched. "See? No big—"

SCREECH!

Dark turns around just in time to be snatched by a pair of talons.

"Shiiiiiit!"

I watch as the scaly creature swoops upward, hollering in victory as it looks down at its captured prize.

"Damn Aeralfos!" Dark yells.

Dark struggles in the monster's grip, eventuallybreaking an arm free and striking the Aeralfos in the head with the sharp end of his halberd. "Yes!" he exclaims as the monster dissipates. "Wait, no!" Dark plummets down through the sky toward the ground, yelping in fear.

I break off into a full sprint toward my falling double, leaping high into the air and catching him in my outstretched arms.

And then we hit the ground.

"Oof!" I grunt, feeling pain erupt in my ribcage, where Dark's figure had hit me the hardest. "How much… do you weigh?"

Dark coughs. "Same as you, idiot."

"I really… need to… work out more," I wheeze through my own spastic coughing.

"Nah, you're pretty strong already," Dark comments, sitting up on the sidewalk. "'S why I copied you, in fact."

"You… what?"

"Oh, right," Dark says, hitting his forehead with his palm. "Forgot to finish my story."

Eyes widening, I nod.

"Those monsters we saw? Yeah, they're Ganon's doing. He summoned them from the portal with his power. He's gonna use them to storm Hyrule Castle."

"How do you know that last part?"

"See, the portal was still open while he was telling this to his new fleet of monsters. Therefore, I could hear him; I knew I had to warn someone about this guy, so I snuck through the portal in attempts to do that."

"And then you found me."

"Right," he agrees with a nod. "I found you in that junkyard. Noticed your potential. Copied your entire physical form. Y'know. Normal stuff."

"My potential?" I repeat. "What d'you mean?"

Dark sighs. "Do you think that symbol on your hand is normal?"

I blink. "Do you think copying people's physical forms is normal?"

"For my people, yes. But for you?! That symbol is legendary, kid. Legendary."

"How so?"

Dark shrugs. "Don't know. I just know it's important."

"That explains a lot."

"It better," Dark mutters, looking outward. "Now you know that you're important. You won't go rushing in headfirst to stupid gang fights and risking death. Be cautious, kid. Promise me that. Okay?"

"Fine. Whatever."

Dark claps a hand on my shoulder. "Anyway. You don't have to worry about me turning on you; while I'm in this form, G-dorf can't control me. That's why he sent Onox. He wanted to rope me in and find a way to quash my free will."

"He can do that?"

Dark shrugs. "I'm sure he'll find a loophole eventually—if he catches me, that is. Which he won't."

"Not while I'm here, he won't," I reassure him with a grin.

"Right!" Dark matches my expression with one of his own, ruffling my hair excitedly with his fist. "Dark Guy and Light Guy, heroes of the streets!"

I chuckle a bit. "We've gotta come up with better nicknames."

"Well... I don't really need one, but you do. Word 'round the block says you're some kind of wanted vigilante. You're more famous than I am, so you'll need a better alias."

"Like what?"

Dark bites his lip, pondering. "I think 'Hero' sounds good. Simple and to the point."

"Hero," I repeat. "I like it."

Saturday, October 16

"You seriously need to stop disappearing."

"My bad."

"No shit, your bad. Quit givin' us freakin' heart attacks!"

"Quit worrying so much."

"That's what friends do, Link. They worry about each other."

"Maybe if you're a Smurf," I shoot back. "Look. Sheik. I appreciate you worrying about me. But you need to understand that I have more important stuff to handle outside of our little group of friends."

Sheik crosses his arms over his chest and squints at me. "More important stuff? Like what?"

I stare at him for a bit, waiting for the light bulb to go off, but notice no change in behavior. "My uncle?" I drawl.

Sheik sighs, dropping his eyes to the floor. "Link, what's going on," he says in an accusative manner, putting no emphasis on the question.

With a nonchalant shrug, I lie, "Just going through some stuff with the authorities at the station."

"Link."

"Sheik."

Sheik sighs. "What kind of stuff?"

"Stuff about my uncle."

"Link!"

"Stuff I don't really want to talk about, alright?!" I shout.

Our dorm grows quiet as Sheik furrows his eyebrows, turning his back to me. After a long while of uncomfortable silence, he slowly begins, "Look… we're only worried about you because we like you, okay? We're trying to be your friends and help you get through this tough time. But we can't do it if you keep avoiding us."

"No," I mutter, shaking my head.

He squints. "No, what?"

"There's only one thing that's gonna get me through this."

I stand up from my seat abruptly, walking out the door, leaving him guessing as to what that thing is.

Revenge.

And maybe a Pop-Tart. I'm hungry.

"Hi," I murmur to the librarian at the front desk. "Where could a find a book on the Hylian legends?"

The lady smiles. "Doing a report?"

"Of sorts," I reply.

She points to the back right corner. "Over there. They're not grouped with fiction or non-fiction, because that would lead to religious controversy."

Unable to respond to that unnecessary information, all I can say is "Um, thanks." With that, I head over to the corner of the library, recounting what Dark had said.

He talked about Ganondorf having some ultimate, legendary power… And even Detective Shad said that Ghirahim had talked about that.

Unsure where to start, I reach out and pull out a random book. "'How to Defeat a Kangaroo in a Boxing Match'," I read aloud quietly to myself. Shaking my head, I shove the book back in its place and grab another.

I scoff. "'Your Talking Boat: How to Get it to Respect You'—what the hell?"

Third time's the charm, I muse. "'Tales of the Moaning Toilet'—dammit, why is this in a library?"

With an exasperated groan, I switch the book out for a thicker, more worn book. I study the gold letters on the leather-bound cover that read, 'HYLIAN LEGENDS'.

"Finally," I groan, sitting down at a nearby table and flipping it open to page one. Bold, black letters read, 'Chapter 1: Hylia's Foundation'.

"No," I comment to myself, flipping through the chapters. I pass by 'Chapter 2: Era of the Sky', and 'Chapter 3: Era of Miniatures', until I get to 'Chapter 4: Divided Relic and the Era of the Hero of Time'. Piqued, I flip to the next page and read on.

'Following the land's short-lived time of prosperity, the reincarnation of the Demon King sprung forth at the perfect opportunity, casting out the distraught princess and using the Spirit of the Hero as a mere pawn to open the doors to the Sacred Realm. With victory nigh, he intruded the Holy Goddesses' realm in attempts to steal the Triforce. To his sadistic exultation, the man reached the relic; however, the man's soul was shrouded by perpetual blackness and evil. Sensing this, the Triforce was split into three to keep the land of Hyrule from evil's grasp. The aforementioned man obtained Power, the princess obtained Wisdom, and the Hero of Time received Courage.'

I look away from the text, blinking several times to set my mind straight. As I read, my hand seemed to throb unexpectedly. And when I scrutinize it, I notice how the faint, glowing light seems to be more refined now—more edged, as if it were in the shape of a triangle.

A triangle.

Tri.

Tri…

…

…

…force?

My eyes widen in complete and utter shock. But the skeptic in me calms my nerves, telling me that there's no way that the Triforce still exists today—or if it ever existed at all. But naturally, my curiosity gets the best of me as I keep flipping through the book.

'Chapter 30: The Triforce

Throughout the varying legends, one relic reigned supreme among others: the holy Triforce. Made up of three golden triangles representing each of the Golden Goddesses, the Triforce was sought after by many. Only one soul in particular, however, affected the remainder of eternity by reaching this divinity: the reincarnation of the Demon King.

At contact with the man's evil hands, the Triforce split into three, and it continued to do so throughout time up until the last-known legend.

Based on detailed accounts of the most recent legend, each bearer of a specific goddess's piece would wield inhuman abilities—the work of the entities themselves.

A great treasure to the Hylian Royal Family, the Triforce of Wisdom passed along with the bloodline of the Princess of Destiny. Wisdom, in addition to improved athleticism, often allowed the bearer to utilize magic against foes. The bearer could also rely on Nayru herself for direct advice.

Courage, like both others, induced foreign abilities in the bearer. This fragment of the relic generally followed the bloodline of the Hero's spirit. In the most recent legend, the Hero could summon electricity from within his body and release it upon foes. Additionally, even in times of great peril, the bearer would be swayed by Farore to never back down.

Power, much like Courage and Wisdom as well, gave the bearer otherworldly strength. But, to balance the three, there was a substantial surplus. Often, the wielder could utilize black magic, although that was typical among the multiple reincarnations of the Demon King.'

Hmm. Well, I'm not a princess, I'm far from a hero (despite my new street name, mind you), and I'm not a reincarnation of any demonic kings. But I keep getting a strange feeling on my hand.

It itches. Badly.

"Nothing some lotion can't help with," I mutter to myself.

"Ew. Feeling lonely?"

I spin around to see the familiar redhead, Ralph Ambi. "Oh, it's you," I grunt curtly. "No, though—my hand just itches pretty bad."

"Pox?" he asks.

I shake my head slowly. "No…?"

"Rash?"

"I don't think so."

"Ebola?"

"What? No!"

"Quiet, man, we're in a library."

I roll my eyes, sighing heavily. "Ugh. Look—what do you want with me? From what Pipit tells me, I don't really approve of you."

"And you approve of Pipit?"

"I'm working on it."

Ralph smirks. "Anyway, I wasn't looking for you. I was looking for Zelda."

"Zelda," I repeat, narrowing my eyes subtly. "Of course."

"Pipit always seems to get in the way whenever I try to talk to her," he grumbles, clenching his fists. "Do you happen to know why? Does he have an eye on my girl?"

"Your girl?"

He blinks, just waiting for a reply.

"No," I answer after a while. "He has the brains not to pursue the headmaster's daughter."

Ralph chuckles heartily, twisting a curl of red hair in between finger and thumb. "Aha… Sorry, I thought you just said that Pipit has brains." He erupts into cheesy, fake laughter that I can see right through.

I snort. "Grow up."

Ralph ceases his false amusement, fixing me with a puzzled look. "You're quite the character, Link. I like you."

"Well I don't like you."

He sighs. "Well that's too bad."

"You are too bad," I say with a nod.

The boy sighs. "Look, man. I am not as bad as Pipit tells you. The thing is, we clash because we are too similar," he explains. "Ever heard the phrase 'opposites attract'? Well, they do. Unfortunately, opposites of opposites do not attract. Get it?"

"I dunno. You used the word 'opposite' a lot," I reply with a bored shrug.

"Word around the school says that you're a tough kid, standing up to Groose 'n all. I admire that," Ralph admits. "Just give me a chance. I'd like to get to know you better."

"That's funny, 'cause I've heard you say that to the girls you wanna bang." I shake my head. "Unless you're bi and that was a pickup line, you're looking to use me in some way."

Ralph bites his lip, tapping his foot on the ground. "That's not true," he murmurs.

I glare at him. "What do you want from me?"

Ralph stares blankly at me for a while, then sneers. "I want your help."

About to rebuff, I curiously ask, "With what?"

"With…" Ralph grips at his hair, clenching his teeth, until he reluctantly says, "…getting friends."

I raise an eyebrow quizzically, lifting my chin slightly as I speak: "I thought the high-and-mighty Ralph Ambi was—"

"Yeah, yeah, I know I acted like everyone liked me, but that's not entirely true. See, I only get girls into my bed because they don't know who I am yet. If they knew I had no friends, then, well, let's just say I'd be a bit… inactive."

I can't help but snort, finding this whole conversation amusing. Here before me, the womanizing Ralph, admits that he's a sorrowful loner.

"It's not funny!" he exclaims.

"Dude, be quiet. We're in a library."

"I moved here in August," he continues, "and I thought everyone was gonna love me. Maybe I was too outgoing." He rubs his fingers through his tousled red hair, abashed. "But you! You came here from Ordonia, of all places, and fit in like you've been here forever."

"If only you knew," I mutter quietly.

He doesn't seem to hear. "Can you please help me out a little?" he asks. I can tell that, with his sorrow-filled eyes and desperate expression, he is sincere.

I thump my forehead with the palm of my hand, exhaling heavily. "Fine."

From my seat at the lounge, I watch with some humor and some disgust as Pipit tries to break up with his girlfriend, named… Um… Casey. Or Stephanie. Whoever that girl is.

"Look," Pipit begins with a smile, moving a strand of blonde hair behind the girl's ear. "Dating you makes me want to be a better person."

The girl smiles. "Aw, really?"

Pipit nods. "So I can date better people."

One slap in the face later, it's over; Pipit saunters back over to our booth with a spring in his step and a grin on his newly-marked face.

"Ouch," I comment idly. "You okay?"

Pipit shrugs. "Eh, when you've been slapped so many times you don't feel it anymore."

I snort. "I can only imagine."

"Hey, guys," Mikau greets, taking a seat next to me. "What's up?"

Pipit shrugs. "Well, Christie and I just broke up."

"Aw, man, that sucks," Mikau says reflexively. Then he fixes the brunette boy with a puzzled look. "…Who's Christie?"

With a sheepish grin, Pipit murmurs, "Nothing really serious with 'er, y'know. Just fooling around."

"Ah," Mikau says with a bob of the head. "A sub-girlfriend."

Pipit taps his temple with his forefinger. "Exactly."

"What's a sub-girlfriend?" I ask.

"Ooh!" Pipit exclaims, clapping his hands together. "I get to teach you your first lesson! Take notes; this is great stuff."

I sag my shoulders pathetically, looking to Mikau for any help. He just shrugs and mutters, "You walked into this one."

Pipit begins eagerly: "Aside from the standard girlfriend, there are various types of relationships you can have with a girl. Like the sub-girlfriend, for example. A non-exclusive relationship, this is probably the best in the books."

"Non-exclusive?" I ask with a raised eyebrow. "So you date more than one simultaneously?"

Pipit chuckles. "'Date'? What are you, twelve? Sub-girlfriends are for the sole purpose of getting l—"

"What the hell is wrong with you?" I interject suddenly.

Pipit blinks.

"You need to stop fooling around with dumb bimbos and go after the real thing."

"The 'real thing'?"

"Yeah, Pipit. What Sheik and Malon have. What I'm sure Mikau and Lulu have. That's the real thing."

Pipit and Mikau share a look.

"Uh, sorry, buddy," Mikau says awkwardly, "but I'm kinda with Pip on this one. Lulu and I are just casual."

"Link," Pipit begins, pausing to take a deep, soothing breath, "don't go down that road."

"What road?"

"The road being driven on by Sheik and Malon's lesbian relationship. That ain't the real thing. You know what's the real thing?"

I shrug. "Oh, you know, house, wife, kids—"

"I'm gonna show you what the real thing is. It's not getting tied down by some clingy girlfriend like Malon, and going out to have a good time with your true bros! Are you with me?"

Pounding the table excitedly, Mikau shouts, "Yeah!"

I glare at my idiot friends. "No."

"Too bad," Pipit says, standing up from his seat. "I'm taking you out anyway. Link, have you lost your alcohol virginity yet?"

"What?"

"Exactly!" he exclaims, grabbing Mikau by the arm and pulling him up as well. "You'll need to experience this."

"Getting wasted while risking getting caught for underage drinking?"

He blinks. "…Yes!"

I look toward Mikau, who just shrugs, not being of much help. I protest, "But—"

"No buts, Link, unless they have two t's and belong to some hot chicks. And you know what that means. We're hitting the town!"

"This is a bad idea."

"Lighten up, Link. This'll be fun."

"Really, Mikau? You're letting him do this to you, too?"

"Hey, life is stressful. I've got my band to worry about, plus I'll have to keep my grades up so I have a backup plan if we tank. It's good to cut loose every now and then."

We stand at the edge of the parking lot to a bustling bar, waiting for the notorious Pipit Westbrook to arrive. He finally does, jogging toward us with a giddy smile on his face, chuckling. "The bar's called 'The Beaver Bros'!" he gushes, bursting out laughing.

"You serious?" Mikau asks with an amused grin.

"Yeah! Look at the sign!" He points to the bar.

I squint to get a better look, seeing the neon lights form into the shape of two woodland creatures, with one sitting in what appears to be an inner tube. The letters, sure enough, spell out what Pipit had told us.

"You ready to snag a few pelts?" Pipit jeers. "Let's dive in!"

Mikau and I can't help but laugh.

"Pip, I don't think we should do this."

Pipit stops, spins around, and sighs heavily. "Link, I'm sure that in your native country—"

"I was born in Hyrule, dude."

"—you have specific customs that are required to become a man. Imagine if you were in like, an ancient Aztec village. You would be forced to leave the village and not come back until you brought back a dead bear!"

"A bear?" Mikau scoffs.

"What, they don't have bears in Africa?"

"It's Mexico, you dumbass."

"Okay, an Eskimo. You know, like when an Eskimo had to kill its first polar bear—"

"None of that ever happened," I say.

"That doesn't matter!" he persists. "Here, in twenty-first century Hyrule, we go out and drink to become men."

"Look, I'm not gonna screw up my life just for one night of fun."

"Aha!" Pipit exclaims, pumping a fist in the air. "So you admit it will be fun!"

"Well, yeah, I guess." I groan. "Fine. Let's go."

I reluctantly set off toward the bar with my two idiotic friends, mentally planning not to drink at all. One of us will have to drive us home, after all, so I'll step up. Not that I really want to drink, though; Rusl often warned me about the negative effects alcohol can do to a person. I don't think I would like not being in control of my own self.

Pipit meanwhile, thinks differently. "We're gonna get hammered!"

I roll my eyes and laugh, patting him on the shoulder. "We'll do that later, yeah? Right now we have to worry about getting past the bouncer."

"Heh," Mikau snickers, "the beaver bouncer."

"Nice!" Pipit chortles like a schoolboy. "We're good, though, Link. I already scoped this joker out. He's half-drunk. He'll let a four-year-old in if he's given the chance."

I gaze ahead at the bar's entrance, seeing a somewhat-off-balance man stumbling every now and then as he allows schools of men through. He wears an unusually small black shirt and jeans, holding a metal flask in both hands.

"Let's go," Pipit announces, charging forward with me and Mikau in tow. "Excuse me, Mister…" Pipit squints at the name tag on the bouncer's chest. "…Tommy?"

The man, in a flamboyant tone, says, "It's Tummy."

"Timmy?" I ask.

"It's Tummy."

"Tammy?" Mikau asks.

"Tummy."

I squint, a bit weirded out, but nod at him nonetheless. "That's a… pretty name, Tummy."

"So, listen, Tums," Pipit begins, placing a hand on the guy's shoulder, "can you let us in?"

Tummy looks down at Pipit's hand and grins suggestively. Pipit retracts it immediately, backing up a step. The bouncer scrutinizes the three of us for a solid ten seconds. Oh, gods, maybe this was a bad idea.

Well, it definitely was, but you know what I mean.

"Hmm," Tummy finally says, "are you three all cis men?"

Pipit squints. "Uh, yeah?"

Tummy smiles widely.

"Look, dude, are you gonna let us in or not?"

The bouncer shrugs. "I guess the bar could use some diversity."

"Huh?"

"Yes, you may enter."

Pipit grabs our arms and drags us into the bar, hurrying past the bouncer who seems to have a crush on Pipit. "You know," I say when we enter the bar, chuckling, "I'm starting to think that guy isn't a beaver bouncer."

They nod.

At once, we turn our heads forward, and we're met with a surprising sight. Men dressed up as women, trouncing about with wigs, makeup, and breast implants. Few cis women, from the look of it, and those who were seemed to be enjoying themselves thoroughly without anyone hitting on them.

Mikau and I simultaneously inhale deeply, exhale, then slowly turn to look at Pipit. He gazes, wide-eyed, at the scene in front of us. "Pipit," Mikau begins, "did you know…"

"…That this is a drag bar?" I finish.

Pipit looks from me to Mikau, then to the floor. "You know, maybe it being named 'The Beaver Bros' should've clued me in."

"Link!" someone yells from within the bar.

Pipit and Mikau whip their heads to look at me, confused. "Who in here could know who you are?"

"Link, are you a regular to this bar?" Mikau asks.

"No, I don't know who—" I freeze.

Shoving through the crowd is none other than my double, Dark Nyton. "Link! What's up, kid? I haven't seen you since last night! Boy, was that intense."

Mikau and Pipit burst out laughing uncontrollably.

"Shut up!" I say to them.

They don't.

"We didn't—He's just—You guys know that I'm not—"

"Link," Dark says, "allow me." He walks closer to the two of them, leaning his head forward and just… staring at them.

They halt immediately. Their eyes grow wide as they fix him with a look of pure shock, then their eyes dart to me, and then back to Dark.

They just realized it.

Dark grins. "'Sup."

"Link," Mikau begins slowly, keeping his eyes locked with Dark's, "since when do you have a goth brother?"

Sighing, I shove a palm in my face. "Dark, what are you doing in a drag bar?"

He blinks at me. "A drag bar? What's that mean?"

"You know. Drag—cross-dresser. Men who dress like women."

"Huh." Dark shrugs. "Well I happen to like these people. Not in a sexual way, though. They're really honest and open."

"I'll say," Pipit comments, eyeing a couple of extravagant, wig-wearing passersby.

"So you're name's Dark?" Mikau asks. "You look a lot like Link."

"Thank you!"

"It wasn't really a compliment," he admits.

Shooting him a contemptuous look, I exclaim, "Hey!"

"I'm not his brother, though," Dark explains. "I'm his sh—"

"He's not related to me," I interrupt. "He's just my doppelganger. You know, everyone has one."

Pipit squints at me. "I don't believe that."

"Well here's some hard evidence."

Pipit exhales audibly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Whatever."

"So you believe me?"

"Not even the slightest," he says. "But a lot of weird stuff had been going on with you, so I'm just sort of rollin' with it."

I shrug. "Good enough."

"Did you guys come here to drink or just stand around?" Dark inquires, throwing an arm around my shoulder. "Let's ride!" He takes me to a booth in the back; soon Mikau and Pipit join, too.

"So," Pipit begins, drumming rhythmically on the table with his palms. "We got past the bouncer, but I don't think we can get past the bartender."

Dark grins. "Oh, that's right. You're minors. Don't worry. I've got you guys covered."

"Wait, but you look just like Link," Mikau chimes. "You're not a minor?"

"Ha!" exclaims the shadow boy. "Nah. I am much older." He turns to head toward the bar.

As Mikau and Pipit fix one another with puzzled looks, I exit the booth and follow after Dark. "Dude," I say, palming his shoulder, "stop confusing them. You know that they're humans. They're not gonna be able to handle all this supernatural crap."

"You're human, and you handled it," Dark argues with a nonchalant shrug.

"Not too well," I say. "Just keep all the mystery down to a minimum, 'kay? I'd hate to start having to keep you away from my friends."

"Roger that, captain." He offers me a salute of mockery. "Now let's get smashed."

"But how are you gonna prove that you're over twenty-one? I mean, you look just like me."

"Oh. Right. Well, a few days after I materialized, I went to this one place to get a proper ID. I told the guy my name and he said I wasn't able to be located on the database. I told him that was because I was just born into this world. He was a nice guy, so he helped me out and made me a fake one."

"So… he actually believed that you were just born into this world?"

"Uh… I think so."

"What kind of lunatic is this?"

Dark shrugs. "I don't know. His name was like, Agha—something. Aghanim, maybe. Sound familiar?"

We reach the bar, and I squint, pondering that. A chill runs down my spine and my hand seems to tingle, but I don't recollect having heard that name in the past. Nonetheless, I shake my head. "Not really, no."

"Alright, then. Now let's order some drinks, huh? Yo, bartender!"

The man behind the counter makes his way over to us. "Ooh," he says with a flirtatious grin, "twins, huh? And it looks like one of you has a dark side… Intriguing."

Dark smirks. "Thanks. Two Red Potions, please. And a Pepsi, if you have any."

"Not gonna drink? Responsible, aren't you!"

Dark shrugs. "Yeah, I'm not much of a drinker." Well, he copied that trait of mine, as well.

"Then what are you doing in a bar?" the bartender asks with a teasing bat of his mascara-filled eyelashes.

"Having a good time," responds my double with a flashy grin, leaning forward on the counter.

"Good answer." He turns around to retrieve our order.

I fix Dark with an accusative look. "Are you flirting?" I whisper.

"No ring on the finger. He's fair game."

"No, I mean—you're gay?"

"I like both."

I squint in mild surprise. "Well, you didn't copy that from me, I guess."

"Oh, I know. This is just my preference."

The bartender returns with our drinks—two dark bottles of light beer and a glass of bubbly cola. "I am a little suspicious about your age, though."

Dark chuckles. "Oh, that's sweet. You think I'm a minor! That must mean that my working out has paid off." He grabs at his bicep, offering the guy a wink.

The bartender smiles. "Put it on a tab?"

We shake our heads, and Dark says, "Nah. These will be our only drinks."

"Name, then?"

I say, "Pipit." Dark raises an eyebrow at me, so I explain: "It was his idea to take us here, so he might as well pay for it."

"Okay, here's this," the man says, handing us the bill. "Enjoy your drinks."

"Enjoy the view," Dark replies slyly as he turns around to walk away. I roll my eyes as I follow after him, feeling the bartender's perverted gaze on our backs.

"Way to improvise," I compliment him. "Although you could've just shown him your fake ID."

"But then I wouldn't be able to have any fun with him," Dark replies with a chuckle.

We arrive back at the table, and Dark slides the bill over to Pipit. "This is for you."

Pipit glares down at the slip of paper while taking a swig of his Bud Light. "It says… 'Tidbit'."

Mikau snorts. "Tidbit?"

"How could they get Tidbit from Pipit? It's not even a real name—it sounds so stupid!"

Mikau and eye one another simultaneously, smirks forming on our faces.

Pipit sags against the booth seat. "You're gonna start calling me Tidbit, now, aren't you…"

Mikau, Dark, and I snicker mischievously.

"Ugh…" Pipit throws his face into his open palms, grumbling.

"Tidbit."

"Shut up."

"Tidbit!"

"Shut up!"

"Hey, don't be Tid-bitter."

"UGH!" Pipit chugs his bottle of Red Potion, fights the bile that seems to be rising to his throat, slides out of the booth, and storms away from us.

"Hey!" I shout, following after him. "Don't Tid-quit on us! C'mon, Tidbit!"

Sunday, October 15

I sit alone at our regular booth in the lounge, writing fervently to finish an HLA assignment due tomorrow. I've just been so frazzled lately, schoolwork has been the least of my worries. With idiot friends, doppelgangers, and dangerous gangsters, there really isn't much time for analyzing any novels. Since it's around ten in the morning on a Sunday, the lounge is virtually desolate, so it's a good spot to do my work.

Ugh. School. I never realized it could bring this much stress into my life.

"Are you still mad at me?"

I look up to see Sheik, wrapped warmly in a gray sweatshirt, with his hands meekly jammed into his jeans pockets. I shrug and, after awhile, reply, "Kinda."

He takes a seat across from me, refusing to meet my eyes, and folds his hands out in front of him. "What can I do to make it up to you?"

I shake my head, resuming my assignment. "I don't need any favors."

An uncomfortable silence settles into the room, and for a brief moment all that's heard is the sound of my pencil scribbling barely-decipherable words onto my sheet of paper. "So I heard you went out with Mikau and Pipit—er, I mean, Tidbit."

"Yeah."

He takes a deep breath, then utters, "Why?"

"Why what."

"Why Pipit?"

I drop my pencil and meet his eyes. "Because Pipit somehow always puts me in a good mood. That's why I went out with him."

"So I put you in a bad mood?"

"Well, my mood was fine until you came here."

"Damn, you sound like a girl."

"Coming from you, Dr. Estrogen. You're the girliest dude I know."

"Didn't you go to a drag bar last night?"

"That was Pipit's fault!"

Sheik groans, palming his face in frustration. "Why are you even mad at me? I'm just trying to help you out, 'kay?"

I lose my cool, standing up abruptly so I stare down at him with indignation. "Do you want to know why I get along better with people like Pipit, Mikau, or Mido?! It's because instead of reminding me of all the shit that happened to me—like you do—they help me forget it by trying to make me enjoy life! Not hate it!"

"So I make you hate your life?"

Ignoring him, I continue: "What I do when I'm not with friends is just something that the gaping hole in my heart needs. Sometimes that requires me to do things I'd normally never dream of doing. When I am with my friends, the last thing I want is them to find out what my other life is like."

The tense silence returns, and once again neither of us can meet the other's eyes. Sheik sighs, murmuring, "The way you said that makes me think you're hiding a really big secret."

Finding flaws in any possible reply, I simply let the question hang.

"And," he adds gingerly, "that thing on your hand kinda proves that."

I look down at my right hand, noticing the familiar golden light emanating from the skin. Except now, the light takes on a familiar shape.

Three triangles, with the bottom-right one shining the brightest.

Well. That can't be normal.