June, 2020: Warning: Unedited. Low quality.
COUNTING STARS
Chapter 9: Businessman
Monday, October 16
"Well," Pipit huffs, glaring down at the wooden table. "I am pretty disappointed."
Mikau cocks his head at that, asking, "Why?"
When Pipit merely shrugs in a weak attempt at a response, Dark wags his finger at him. "I think I can figure it out," the shadow boy chimes. "No one's hit on you yet."
With a grin, I nod in agreement. "There are no gay bouncers here. Maybe that's why. Sorry, Tidbit."
Annoyed, Pipit scowls darkly at me. "Really? You're not over that stupid name yet?"
"None of us are," Sheik laughs, clapping a hand on his buddy's shoulder.
"You weren't even there."
Sheik shrugs, smirking, taking a swig of his bottle.
"Okay, guys," Mikau announces. "Time for the real reason we all came here tonight." As we all look at him with confusion, he flashes us a wide, mischievous grin. "Shot contest."
He was met with three "No"s and one emphatic "Yeah!"—first being myself, Sheik, and even Dark. The second, well, you can guess who.
Pipit fixes us with baffled, wide-eyed stares for a moment before speaking. "Why not, guys?"
"Because I'm not gonna get drunk," Sheik asserts.
"Because I hate drinking," I explain with a shrug of condolence.
"Because I'm exactly like him," Dark says, nudging my arm.
I fix him with a questionable squint. "I strongly disagree."
Dark laughs. "Well, yeah—behaviorally, we have nothing in common. Two very different souls. But we have the same taste buds."
"Guess so," I admit.
"I don't think that's how it works," Sheik interrupts.
If only you knew.
But, wisely deciding against telling them that we are, indeed, exact physical copies of one another, we simultaneously shrug in response.
"But seriously, guys," Mikau begins, "shots!"
"No, man, it's a frickin' Monday night," Sheik says. "C'mon, you don't wanna get wasted in front of Lulu again, do you?"
"If it means having a good time with my bros, then that's a risk I'm willing to take."
"What happened to you?"
"You guys happened to me!" he shouts, throwing his arms upward with an ecstatic grin. "Sheik, you always talk about how cool your girl is. Pipit, you're never tied down, even though you should probably be tested for STD's. Link, you're just chill about everything." He glances at Dark. "And Dark, uh… that's a nice shirt."
Dark grins. "Means a lot."
"I meant every word." Mikau continues: "I'm tired of being tied down by Lulu. I'm tired of being jealous of your kickass lives, you know?"
We stare at him. For a good while, that's all we do. My friends and I are all silent, and I swear you can physically see the awkwardness. No one's biting on Mikau's bait, so I sigh and decide to do it myself.
"Well... It sounds like you have some thinking to do… about your girlfriend."
Mikau nods. "I think I do."
The silence settles in again, until a waitress walks by. "Hey! A round of vodka shots, please!" Mikau hollers, attracting the lady's attention. She smiles, offers us a thumbs-up, then heads off.
"Dude!" Sheik protests.
"You realize we're gonna get carded now, don't you?" I add.
"We told you, Link," Mikau says, "this is a college club. Everyone looks young. We're not gonna get carded."
Sheik scoffs. "Really, 'cause Pipit over here is dressed like a fourteen-year-old girl."
"You're bashing my shorts, now?"
"They're a tidbit too short."
"Stop it. They show off my calves, anyway."
As they continue to banter pointlessly, Dark bumps my arm. "What?" I ask in a hushed voice.
His face steeled, he merely points forward at the entrance to the club, where a cluster of people are standing.
"I don't see any—" I freeze. Pushing past a rotund couple making out next to the coat rack, a familiar man pulls the hood of his black cloak further over his head, shrouding his face in darkness. But the hunched-over posture, yellow-toothed grin, and gnarled gray hands are what make me remember him.
'Agahnim' was the name Dark recalled. The guy that helped create his ID. He offered us hospitality, but didn't inform Dark who he was. He offered information about the local gangs—though I suspect that he partakes in gang activity due to his vast knowledge of the M.O.D.
"It's him," Dark whispers frantically.
With trepidation, I nod quickly. "I know."
"Why is he here?"
"Why else would he be? He's clearly looking for us!"
"B-but he can't be; he's that nice guy who helped make my ID."
"And the guy who refused to tell you who he was when we were in his shop? Doesn't that seem a little suspicious?"
Dark shrugs. "Yeah, I guess so…"
"He's clearly in the M.O.D., and he's either looking for you or me."
"Why me?"
"'Cause you escaped Ganondorf, remember?"
"Shit, that's right." He bumps his forehead with his palm.
"And he is looking for me for obvious reasons," I add. "I'm Ganondorf's next target, apparently."
"But how'd Agahnim follow us here?"
And then it dawns on me. A light bulb appears over my head—not literally, of course—and my eyes widen. "Oh, gods, it all makes sense now..."
Dark squints. "What? What does?"
"Remember how you told Agahnim that you were just born that day? Well, he believed you because he's in the M.O.D. and knew that you escaped Ganondorf after you were summoned. So he gave you an ID card and probably fixed it with a tracking device. He probably waited until you were near their stronghold so he could take you back there, which means that their stronghold is probably right by here… Dark, we have to get captured."
"What?!"
"We do. So I can find Ganon and break his damn skull."
"That—No, Link. Even I am more rational than that."
"Ahem," Sheik interrupts. On the other side of the booth, he, Pipit, and Mikau are all squinting suspiciously at us. "Should we just leave, or…?"
I toss a haphazard "Sorry" at them and glance back up to the strange, cloaked man.
My breath hitches when I notice that he's facing us, his arm holding a cell phone up to his hooded head. I can't see his eyes, but I know our gazes are locked.
"Guys, we need to leave," I assert. "Right now."
"Why?"
"There is a dangerous man in here, and we have to leave right away if we want to live."
The man lowers the cell phone, but still stands ominously in the middle of the bar, facing us.
"Don't know about you guys, but I sure want to live," Mikau, on the end seat, chimes. "I trust you, Link. Let's go, guys."
We hastily exit the booth, and I am tempted to reach into my pack and withdraw my green hood. But right now, I think I'm able to avoid conflict and not reveal my identity as the renegade superhuman.
As the cloaked man stands beside the bar, the five of us shuffle through the crowded room, aiming to blend in. It seems that we do; the man doesn't pursue us.
Outside, we almost simultaneously exhale, relieved. "C'mon," I holler, breaking off in a jog, "run!"
They comply, catching up to me as I continue at an easy pace.
"Not so fast, shadow boy!"
"Oof!"
Pipit, Mikau, Sheik, and I whirl around to see Dark pinned to the ground by a massive man in all leather. I recognize him as Onox, the guy who I knocked out with a shovel.
"His cronies are not going anywhere, either," asserts a surprisingly high-pitched voice behind us.
We spin around again to see a very tall and skinny man, sporting a long black robe with who-knows-what being hidden underneath it. His beady yellow eyes peer down at us, and his sunken-in face is devoid of emotion. The man of Twili descent standing awkwardly before us clearly lacks the intimidation factor.
Making things even worse, Sheik laughs.
I hit him in the chest. He quiets down.
"To what is your humor directed toward, petty human?"
Sheik's maroon eyes narrow angrily. "I'm a Sheikah, dumb shit," he grumbles.
The Twili man seethes in gradually-growing anger, his tiny mouth twitching into a snarl. He glances up at Onox.
We turn our heads to see Dark being hoisted up like a rag doll by one of the man's jacked arms. "This 'ere is property of Dragmire," he announces with a yellow grin, jostling Dark's feeble body forcefully.
"Who is this Fagmire?" Sheik asks, baring his teeth at the imposing man.
Onox narrows his eyes. "You do not insult our master, little Sheikah, or you will feel the wrath of the Men of Demise!"
My friends' eyes widen, and they turn their heads toward me. "Link," Sheik begins, putting a hand on my shoulder, "they killed your uncle, didn't they?"
I don't respond; my eyes are locked with Onox's. He sneers, lifting his chin sharply. "Your uncle was killed by us, eh? Must've been under Cia's wing."
With fury boiling in my veins, I bluntly spit out, "He was innocent."
Onox chuckles, shaking his head with disdain. "What a pathetic waste of a bullet, then. It's too bad you didn't learn your lesson, since you hang 'round this pile o' trouble." He gestures toward Dark, then looks back up at me. "Nothin' can stop the M.O.D."
"Not even a shovel to the face?"
"A shovel to the—?" He freezes, amber eyes growing wide. Baffled, he blinks several times before uttering simply, "You."
With a slow nod, I glare my blue eyes at him. "Me."
Agahnim, cloak removed, soon strides over to the ambush, his bald head reflecting the dim moonlight. "Ahaha! Onox, Zant," he croaks, "you've got him."
"Indeed." Onox nods shortly. "It's a good thing he gave up so easily. We didn't even bring our guns."
"You didn't?"
Acquiring the new information, I react instantly: I spin and drive the toe of my shoe into Zant's crotch, who wails in pain and collapses to the ground. To Dark's aid, I dash toward Onox as he turns his head, just in time for my gloved fist to punch him square in the face. He relinquishes his hold on Dark, rocketing backward a few feet and landing on his back with a colossal thud.
I glance behind me to see my friends staring in awe as the Twili gangster behind them attempts to get back up. "Don't just stand there," I yell, "beat him up!"
Leaving them to keep Zant grounded, I turn my attention toward Agahnim. I run at him, fist poised, leaping into form for a superman punch.
With astounding agility, the seemingly-elderly man ducks his head and spins out of my reach, throwing a backward elbow at my skull as I soar past him. His aged, rock-hard bone connects with the back of my head with a devastating crack. My vision blurs instantly, and I collapse face-first onto the pavement, earning gravel scrapes to the face.
I lie there for what seems like an eternity, the pain screaming in my ears, barely holding onto consciousness. Half-aware, I feel my body being roughly spun around as the sirens blare through the night. The police are coming; Dark and I will be safe for tonight.
I blink several times before focusing in on the wrinkled face sneering down at me. "Do you have any idea…" he whispers forcefully, "…who you really are?"
Head swimming, I find tree strength to glare my eyes up at him. In a dangerous tone, I spit, "I am Hero."
"I've known who you are for a long time, greeny. What really pisses me off about you, though, is that you're always lucky enough to get saved before you're hurt." A wide, sadistic grin spreads out across his wrinkled face. "But not tonight. I'm gonna show you more of what you'll get when we capture you and your damned shadow." He grips my dirty blonde hair with a white-knuckled fist, yanking my head upward so he can whisper in my ear: "Pain."
He drops my head, winds back, and slams his fist into my face. Once out of fury, twice for good measure, thrice for amusement.
My vision goes black.
Tuesday, October 17
I wake up in a dumpster.
The first thing I notice: the smell. Rancid—like a combination of a dead animal, spoiled milk, and some meatloaf left out in the desert sun. The second thing: the taste. Still in a stupor, I groggily pull something weird out of my mouth and peer at it. That leads me to the third thing: the sights.
I blink several times, holding the weird item I've been nursing all night in front of my face. It's a brown banana peel.
"Ugh," I grumble, scrunching my face up in disgust, tossing the peel behind me.
"'Ey!" grunts a voice.
I turn around as best as I can, trying with difficulty to maneuver through heavy bags of waste, and my eyes land on the most peculiar thing of the morning—Dark, with the old banana peel sitting on his black hair.
And he's completely nude.
"Dude!" I shout, covering my eyes with my hands as he stares at me with confusion. "Why are you naked?"
He carefully removes the peel from his shaggy locks, dropping it next to him. "I sleep like this," he responds casually.
"Fully nude?"
"Yeah. Don't you?"
"Uh, no?"
"Oh," he responds, blinking a few times. "Odd."
"I'm odd?"
"I don't see what the big deal is, Link." He pauses, shrugs, then points downtown. "I guess I do see the big deal, actually."
"Well, you're a physical copy of me."
"Thank you for this, then." He grins. "So if we're the same guy physically, why do you have a problem with looking?"
"Because I'm not gay."
"Is it gay to look at yourself? Most guys do a lot more than just look at themselves, you know—"
"Okay, fine," I respond, removing my hands. But I still don't look… even if he's really me down there.
Dark notices and rolls his eyes, but he doesn't press the matter.
"Where are your clothes, Dark?" I ask him.
"My—? Oh, right," he says with a half grin and a nod. "I rented them to a homeless guy yesterday so we could crash in his dumpster for the night. He should be back sometime soon."
I close my eyes and take in a deep breath, restraining myself from lunging out and attacking him. "Why did you want to sleep in a freakin' dumpster, Dark?!"
Dark blinks, taken aback. "Easy, man, easy. You were still unconscious for awhile after the fight, and well, we were pretty far from the academy you live in. So I tried to find a hotel but I don't have any money, and I thought this place would be more comfortable."
I stare at him. "…A dumpster."
"…Yes."
"You are seriously too stupid to insult."
He nods. "Thank you."
Piqued, I heave a sigh and shake my head. "And you know it's a Tuesday morning, right? I have school today." I take out my phone and check the time. "Dammit, it's 10:30."
"I'm sure if you explain everything to your teacher, everything will be understood."
"Think about how that conversation would go, Dark," I grumble. "'Sorry, I was out drinking last night, got into a fight with some gang members, then woke up next to a naked guy in a hobo's dumpster in an alley. I came here as quick as I could.'" With a scoff, I glare at him. "I doubt my teachers will let me off the hook for that."
"Your teachers sound like huge bummers."
As I stand there, submerged in piles of trash, something pops into my head—something that I definitely should have thought of earlier. With haste, I frantically ask, "Dark, where are the others?!"
"The others?"
"My friends!"
"Um… Michael, Zeke, and Tidbit, right?"
I squint. "Mikau, Sheik, and—well, you got the last one right."
"They took a cab back to the academy yesterday after you clocked out," he states, much to my relief.
"Good. I thought you would've lost them somewhere." Eased, I sigh lightly. "Now I need to head back. I look like shit."
"And smell like it." He scrunches his nose in disgust.
"We're both in a dumpster. You do too." I pause, then cock my head questionably at him. "You know you're probably not gonna get those clothes back, right?"
With a shrug, he responds, "Yeah, probably not. I'll go to the tailor across the street, have 'em whip up a cool outfit for me."
"You're gonna go in there naked?" I raise my eyebrows. "Most businesses have a 'No Clothes, No Service' policy, you know."
"Not if you're me," he replies with a charming wink, pointing downtown again. "I've got a secret weapon."
"So do I. But I don't use it."
"Your loss. This thing works magic."
"So. Care to explain your tardiness?"
I only shrug. "I don't have an excuse."
I quickly shoot Sheik a look in the front row, wordlessly communicating with him that I'm okay. He looks worried—whether it's about my wellbeing or my current situation, I don't know.
Evidently disappointed, Rauru folds his arms over his chest and narrows his eyes.
"Sorry?" I add, hoping it'll ease the tension.
It doesn't. "Now, Link. Because you are new, you likely do not know that I hold my students to higher standards than the rest of the ignorant, carefree staff."
"Did you just insult the staff?" I murmur.
Either ignoring me or not hearing (likely the latter due to his age), he continues. "I expect my students to be on time to class. Not—" He glances down at the watch on his wrist, reading the time. "—forty-five minutes late."
I discreetly check my cell phone in my pocket. It's 11:41. Second period started at 10:56.
I nod at him. "So if classes are forty-six minutes long, that means—"
RIIIIIIING!
The dramatic blare of the school bell interrupts me, and I toss Mr. Lux a sheepish grin before darting off toward the door. I hate being put on the spot like that, so I'm eager to leave.
The rest of the class follows suit, but the old crank stops everyone. "Hold it, hold it!"
Everyone ceases their gathering of supplies to look his way, my reluctant self included.
"Due to today's lack of attention—and attendance—there will be a quiz on chapter nine tomorrow." As the class lets out an audible groan of protest, Rauru glances my way and announces, "You may thank Mr. Gaiden for reminding me to reinforce your good learning habits."
Oh, that old coot…
I glare at him before spinning on my heel and marching out the door.
Disgruntled, I walk down the hall until Mikau, Sheik, and Mido catch up with me. "Man, look what you did!" Mikau whines. "This is your fault."
"Come on," Sheik says, shaking his head in my defense. "You were sound asleep. There's drool all over the desk. You were part of the problem, too."
"Rauru said I could thank Mr. Gaiden, so—"
"Shut up, Mikau," I grumble. "I've had one long-ass morning, and you're really not helping."
"Dang," Mido comments. "Chill, bro."
I shoot him a glare to show that I'm not in the mood.
The redhead clears his throat. "Well, that's my cue. Seeya." He walks ahead, then ducks into his next classroom.
"Sorry," I say with a light shrug. "I was actually kind of trying to get rid of Mido, so we could talk. There's no real use in having to explain to him what we were doing."
"Sure," they respond.
"I'm still foggy on what happened after I blacked out, but I do know that Dark sold his clothes to a bum so we could crash in his dumpster for the night. I woke up in it a little over an hour ago." They suppress their snickers at the sheer ridiculousness of my explanation, but I interrupt them by saying, "What I want to know is why you guys didn't take me into the cab with you."
"Well, Dark said he wanted to make sure for himself that you would wake up," Sheik replies, looking a little guilty. "Pipit was kinda rattled from the whole incident, so we decided to take him back and trust Dark to watch out for you." He pauses, then adds, "Sorry."
I flick my eyes toward either of them, shrug, and say, "I guess it's alright. I mean, I'm alright."
Sheik squints, cocking his head. "…Are you, though?"
"You took a pretty big hit," Mikau adds.
"I heal fast."
After discreetly sharing a look with one another, Sheik and Mikau nod. "Okay," the blonde says, "I'm gonna head to my next class now. See you guys at P.E." Sheik grins, then leaves me with Mikau.
"So," the dark-haired dude begins, clapping a hand on my shoulder. "All things aside, what's going on with you and Zel?"
Oh no. I forgot about Zelda! I haven't talked to her since yesterday, when she found out about my Triforce… Damn, this is bad; I have next period with her. What if she freaks out and gives away my secret?
Then… I'd be arrested. Another thing I forgot about. I'm wanted.
"Honestly, not as much as people are saying or hoping," I respond, keeping my gaze locked with the floor.
He raises his eyebrows teasingly. "How much are you hoping?"
I laugh lightly. "…Good question."
"If it's so good, answer it," he urges.
"I'm only gonna say," I begin, "that it's more now than what I thought before."
With a shake of the head, Mikau grins widely. "Y'know, you're about as vague as vague can be."
Today was odd.
For one thing, Zelda was absent. So was Lulu, but I'm beginning to think that they were each gone for different reasons.
Today actually felt… kind of sucky. Not just because of the "rough encouragement" of my less-than-favorite teachers (as Mr. Harkinian chooses to describe their behavior). Nah, I'm used to that. I get it every day. Maybe it's the head injuries talking, but I think my day sucked because I didn't get to see Zelda.
I really need to talk to her about yesterday.
But right now, I'm focusing on studying for that history quiz tomorrow, for which I am apparently at fault. So, Sheik and I sit in our back booth in the lounge, buried in piles of notes as we sift through the thirty-seven-page chapter.
Most of those notes—all of them, actually—belong to Sheik. Meanwhile, my sheet of paper is blank; I hold the last unbroken pencil in my possession very lightly, praying that my inhuman strength won't snap it. I hate being that nerd in class who types all his assignments without the teacher asking him to. And I hate having to explain to Sheik why our keyboard's broken… three times.
I squint my eyes shut, then bring the pencil down as lightly as possible, expecting the taunting noise of the cracking wood… But I don't hear it.
With trepidation, I slowly peek with one eye, peering down at the writing utensil. It's still whole, and there's a faint gray line on my paper.
"Uh… Link?"
My eyes shoot up to meet Sheik's.
"You okay?"
I nod. "Yes."
"You were making a face."
"What kind of face?"
"A constipated face."
I blink. "Yeah, uh… my head still hurts from last night." With my forefinger I lightly tap on my temple.
"Right."
With that, we awkwardly shift back to studying. Sheik continues to read through the textbook, while I try to mask my joy after discovering that my strength has finally been toned down and that I can finally use a pencil.
"Hey, guys," says someone.
In sync, Sheik and I briefly look up to see Karane, then return to our work. "Hi, Karane."
"What're you doing?" she asks, sliding into the seat next to Sheik.
"Writing," I say.
"Reading," Sheik says.
She giggles. "Calm down, party animals."
"So Karane…" I begin as I continue jotting down notes, "…Where was Zelda today?"
Karane's lips perk up into a sly smirk. "Why the sudden interest?"
I drop the pencil. "Things happened lately, and I want to know if this has to do with me."
She bites her lip in thought. "Well… she didn't say much. I'm pretty sure she didn't mention you."
"Well what did she say?"
"She doesn't feel well," Karane says. "I think she has a cold."
With an exaggerated huff, Sheik shuts his textbook. "Do you two mind? I'm trying to study for a quiz tomorrow, thanks to you, Link."
Karane giggles, pushing the blonde lad lightly on the shoulder. "Sorry." She turns to me. "It's your fault?"
"I may have been a little late to class."
"How late?"
"…Forty-five minutes." I shrug.
A grin spreads across her face. "So you showed up for a minute of history class?"
I nod, and she giggles in response.
Something's off about this. Not to flatter myself or anything, but she seems to be flirting with me. Believe me, Karane is attractive and all, but I can't keep this going if Pipit has even the slightest bit of feelings for her. Although, Karane was pretty mean to him.
I haphazardly shove my notes and school junk into my pack, then ask Karane, "You room with Zelda, right? Do you mind if I go talk to her?"
Her smile falters subtly, but she nods. "I'll be out for awhile, so go ahead. Room 4F."
"Thanks." I toss a grin to the two of them, then get up to leave. "Sheik, I'll see you at the dorm."
He looks up from his textbook. "I'm not entirely sure that's true." With a suggestive wiggle of the eyebrows, he grins at me.
Gods, he's been hanging out with Pipit too long.
As I exit the elevator and step into the fourth floor of the girls' dorm, the first thing I hear is screaming.
"I am so tired of you!" shouts a familiar male voice.
Mikau?
"If you're so tired of me, then go back to the bar and get hammered again, you loser!"
Lulu?
Oh, crap, this is bad.
"What is the big deal with that?! You always demand that I spend all my time with you and the band! What if I want to spend time with my friends once in a while?!"
"I don't care about that—!"
"Yeah right!"
"—I hate when you make these stupid decisions! You're not the guy I fell in love with, Mikau! You've changed!"
"And you haven't?"
I slowly creep out the elevator and hide next to a vending machine, curiously peeking my head around the corner to spy.
"You know what, that's it!" Lulu yells, clenching her fists. "I'm tired of fighting with you."
"Me too."
"Don't talk to me. Don't call me. And about Morpha, I'm done." As tears well up in her eyes, she shakes her head. "We're done."
"Good."
And she leaves, shutting the door of her room behind her. Mikau's face falls, and he stares down at the floor with glazed eyes. Then he sighs, turns on his heel, and walks away.
Thinking I should give him some space, I press my back up against the wall as he walks past, ignorant to my presence. He descends the stairs instead of taking the elevator, avoiding the wait and instead wanting to leave the place as soon as possible.
With a disheartened huff, I come out from my hiding spot and return to the hall, only to see every door in the hall opened with two girls each curiously peeking out. Their lingering gazes fall on me.
I blink awkwardly, standing there for a moment, then hastily continue down my path. The doors shut almost simultaneously as I reach 4F, one of the few doors unopened after the shouting match.
I take a moment to gather myself, then knock quietly on Zelda's door.
"It's unlocked," she hollers from inside.
I open the door with a nervous smile on my face, only to have it fall immediately upon seeing her.
"Oh, gods!" she shouts, yanking her bed covers up over her bra. "I thought you were Lulu!"
Blinking a few times in shock (or awe), I stammer meekly, "I—uh… sorry."
I can't help but stare at her. She's adorable. Her cheeks burn pink and she glares at me, reaching down to grab her shirt on the floor.
I clear my throat. "Um… can I still come in?"
Zelda combs her golden hair back with her fingers as she ponders. "…Sure, but just give me a sec."
"Okay." I close the door, and wait.
Wow, I muse with a small smirk.
After a bit, she calls, "'Kay, you can come in."
I comply, shutting the door softly behind me. She's now properly clothed, wearing a gray tee with a Red Hot Chili Peppers logo on it.
"Hey, I love the Chili Peppers," I comment.
She scoffs. "So that's the first thing you look at? My chest?"
I chuckle. "In my defense, Zelda…"
She folds her arms and raises her eyebrows at me, a miniscule twinge of a smile on her face.
"…I am a seventeen-year-old boy." I shrug helplessly.
Her smile widens. "Yeah, but you're not like most boys."
"Thanks." I pause, then squint. "Wait, do you mean like, 'my insane powers' kind of different, or my personality?"
With a shrug, she says, "Both, I guess, but I meant your personality."
"Oh. Thanks. I think." My grin returns. Zelda nods, her gaze falling to her lap.
A silence settles between us.
"So you're not feeling well?"
"I've been better," Zelda replies. "I think I'm getting a fever. You probably won't want to be around me."
"If you think that, then you don't know me too well."
Zelda blushes again, smiling at the wall, unable to meet my gaze. She laughs lightly, asking, "Are you flirting with me?"
I smile. "Just being honest. I'm an open book."
She squints skeptically. "Are you?"
With a nod, I say, "To you, at least. Remember this?" I remove my overpriced leather glove to reveal the Triforce emblem, showing it to her.
Her smile falters. "I'd like not to remember that."
"You're pretty shaken up?"
She nods mutely.
I sigh, daringly taking a seat on the foot of the bed. "I'm sorry you had to witness that," I say, sighing quietly.
"It's just… That guy… He could've killed people, Link…" Shaking her head, she looks down. "And he got away."
"And that's my fault. I should have taken him down."
"But you thought you did. And I was distracting you—" She stops, then meets my eyes. "Link, it's my fault! You would've seen him if I wasn't freaking out!"
"No it isn't, Zelda."
"Yes it is!" she urges, a tear streaming down her cheek. "There's a killer on the streets and it's all because—"
"Stop it," I tell her. "There isn't 'a' killer. There are dozens." I make my way toward the front of the bed and sit next to her, lifting my legs up to rest next to hers. She tenses for a brief moment, but soon she relaxes, her arm touching mine. "And," I add, "I'm gonna stop them."
Zelda looks at me with wet eyes, whispering, "Why?"
I take a deep breath, exhale, then spill, without stopping to see her reactions. "The name of my uncle's killer is Ganondorf Dragmire. He is the leader of a gang called the M.O.D. Most nights when I disappear, I'm out in the streets wearing a green hat, taking down M.O.D. members and running from the police. Either that, or I'm at the police station with my detective, Shad, to solve the murder. My goal is to bring Ganondorf to justice, whether that results in his imprisonment or his death."
As the silence settles back between us, I steal a glance at her. Her eyes are wide and unblinking, and yet all she says is, "Sounds like you've been practicing that speech."
I find myself chuckling. "Well, yeah. I have been."
"You're the guy on the news who was wearing the Hyrule Academy sweatshirt?"
I nod shamefully. "Yeah."
A pretty, humored smile spreads across her face. "Link, that was really stupid."
With a laugh, I nod. "It was." Sighing, I drop my gaze to the floor. "You know… I was really nervous about explaining things to you."
"…Why?"
I shrug. "I kinda thought you would take it badly, and you'd never want to talk to me again." Offering her a sheepish grin, I boldly add, "...And that would really suck."
The next thing that happens completely shocks me: Zelda takes the covers that are draped over her and pulls them over me, then rests her head on my shoulder.
Am I dreaming, or is today just that amazing? Well… aside from Mikau's breakup. Sorry, buddy.
My heart yearns for me to do something in return, to show her my affection, so I settle for wrapping my arm around her, pulling her closer. I say softly, "Zel… I'm really sorry."
"For what?"
"For being a vengeful freak."
"Would I let a vengeful freak be in my bed with me?"
"If you're feeling really lonely, maybe."
She giggles, and we're quiet for a bit. "…Is this weird?"
"Should it be?"
"…Yes?"
"How so?"
Zelda nestles further into the crook of my neck and shoulder. "…I dunno, it's hard to explain."
"Well, if it helps, I like it."
She sighs contentedly. "Me too."
Damn, what was in that Powerade I had earlier today? I'm saying all this ballsy stuff. And it's working. Now, I guess, it's time for something else to say… something I haven't even let myself think before.
"…Zelda?"
"Yeah?"
Here goes…
I take a deep breath—Wait. I hear something. Oh, no. Gods, not now! Of all the possible times, why now?
I hear sirens. Lots and lots of sirens.
Something big is going on.
I turn my head to gaze out Zelda's open window, toward the city. My hand tingles.
"…Link?" Zelda says.
I don't hear her. The adrenaline is pumping through my veins now; my body yearns to take action. And I do.
I stand up abruptly, tossing a reluctant goodbye over my shoulder, and stand in front of the window, ready to leap out.
"Link, what are you doing?" Zelda asks worriedly, sitting back up in bed.
"The cops," I say. "They're in trouble."
"How do you know?"
"Ever heard this many sirens at once? They called for backup, and they clearly need it." I pick up my pack that I dropped on Zelda's floor, unzip it, and take out my floppy green cap. "So that's what they'll get."
With fear in her ocean-blue eyes, she looks up at me, stressing, "That's not your job, Link."
I sigh, giving her one last wistful glance. "Maybe it is."
And I jump.
The night air of autumn nips at my cheeks as I travel briskly down the sidewalk of a traffic-jammed street. I can sense multiple eyes following me; perhaps the footage of my failed arrest has been spread more than I thought.
Drivers pointlessly honk at the bumpers in front of them, patience waning. As I continue, the cars seem to be more compacted together, less room between them all—and I begin to see why. Faraway flashes of red and blue indicate that the police have blocked off the road ahead, which is likely due to the commotion I heard earlier.
"Nice night, ain't it?"
I dart my head toward the source of Dark's voice. He sits—clothed this time—on a trash can in the alley to my right.
"Not exactly," I grumble. "What's going on with the cops?" Gesturing toward the flashing lights, I fix him with a questionable squint.
"It's gone now. A fight broke out between the cops and a few thugs," he responds nonchalantly, shrugging it off and slurping audibly on the straw of a juice pouch.
"Anyone you recognize?"
"Um… Jackson was there."
"Sakon?"
He nods. "You know what I mean. I'm not good with names."
"Anyone else?" I ask, raising my eyebrows.
Biting a lip, he hops down from the garbage can. "There were two others. One was a tall chick, kinda hot actually. The other was male, really ripped, and he carried a frickin' flamethrower."
Blinking a few times, I cock my head, confused. "I've never seen them before."
"Neither have I. When I was summoned, I saw everyone in the M.O.D., but those two weren't there."
"Maybe they're a part of their rival gang," I muse, recalling Shad's information regarding Ghirahim and Vaati's separate gangs.
"Maybe," he agrees quietly. "What were they called again?"
"I don't remember."
"Mm." Dark shrugs. "Ah, well. Let's just get to the main event, you an' me. Shall we, Link? Or should I say… Hero?"
As I stand there in confusion, Dark takes the lid off the trash can, withdrawing the large burlap sack he now carries everywhere. He reaches in, taking out a bundle of clothes and tosses it my way.
I catch it, inspecting the outfit he brought me. The top is a dark forest green, like the needles of an evergreen tree, and leather that seems a bit tight for my liking. The shoulders, pectorals, and abdomen are all covered in plates of thicker, grayish-green protective hide.
Meanwhile, the bottom is quite the same; deep green, a little tight, with protective hide that dangles from the waist to the thighs. More tough plates cover the shins and kneecaps.
"Dark, these are—" I freeze when I look up at my double, finally noticing that he has on the exact same outfit, but with shades of black and gray.
"Spectacular? I agree." He grins wickedly. "I told you your thing works magic."
I snort, resorting to gazing back down in awe at the outfit in my arms.
"Oh, and I got some more stuff for you," he adds excitedly, digging back into the burlap sack. "Da-da-da-daaaaa!"
I peer at the items he pulled out, and I smirk. A pair of matching grayish-green boots— along with a black, masquerade-like mask that covers only the eyes and bridge of the nose—sit on what appears to be a cape, the same color as the boots and protective plates.
"You got a cape!" Dark cheers.
I reach down to pick up the mask and boots—because the cap won't always shield my identity, and I certainly can't go around doing justice in a flimsy pair of Vans—but I leave the cape.
He glares at me. "Dude."
"What?" I ask in false innocence, smirking subtly.
"Do you know what I had to do to get this cape for you, Link?" Dark asks, appearing hurt. "I had to do a huge dude."
"I bet you liked it."
"No. I loved it. But that's not the point." Dark shakes his head, pointing down at the cape. "You're wearing that cape."
I blink at him, scoffing, "I'm not wearing a cape."
"Yes you are."
"I'm not wearing a cape."
"You're wearing a cape."
"I'm not wearing a cape."
"You're wearing a cape!" he shouts, picking it up and tossing it at me.
I catch it, and I shrug dejectedly. "Fine, I'll wear the cape."
With a grin, Dark says, "Good. Now put 'em on."
I motion toward the end of the alley, where all the cars can be seen. "But all the people will see me."
"Are you nine? Walk back farther and drop your drawers."
One outfit change later, I stuff all my previous clothes into my pack, throwing it on over my cape.
"Doesn't that thing bother you?" Dark asks about it when I'm all suited up.
"Not when you're as strong as I am," I reply cunningly.
"Ah. Well, that isn't entirely you." He offers me a pompous smirk, motioning toward my hand.
I lightly chuckle. "Always raining on my parade, aren't you?"
Looking skyward, I see the bright moon, prominent among the few winks of starlight. Ominous clouds and fog gradually begin to consume the comforting stars, and I shiver in trepidation.
"Well, I should head off," Dark announces, slinging his burlap sack over his shoulder.
"What?" Disappointed, I squint my eyes at him. "You're not gonna help me find those thugs?"
"Well, I would, but I met a twelve."
Confused, my eyebrows perk up.
"On a scale of one to ten, she's a twelve," Dark explains.
"Ah," I say quietly. Dark winks. "Well I guess I'll go find 'em by myself."
"You sure?"
I glare at him. "Well my sidekick is too busy banging the first hot girl he sees, so yeah. I'm sure."
"You're the sidekick." With that, he spins on his heel, starting off torward the end of the alley. "Be careful," he calls, stopping to look back over his shoulder. "Don't get killed."
"You be careful too. Don't knock her up."
"I'm not sure I could if I wanted to." Dark offers me a mock-salute before turning and leaving me alone in the alley.
As I stand there, feeling utterly ridiculous with my mask, hat, and cape, I can't help but look back up at the sky. The three lone stars I'm able to spot put me at ease, and I sigh peacefully.
Until the sound of footsteps behind me makes me leap out of my skin.
I whirl around, neck hairs stranding up, and see a figure. A rather curvy figure, but hidden in the shadows of the depths of the alley.
A smooth voice of a woman coos, "You know, I used to dream that the notorious Hero would walk onto my turf." She slowly steps forward, overstepping to either direction with both legs, bringing attention to her hips. "That way I could hold him for ransom against my enemy who so dearly desires him…"
The dim, flickering yellow light of a street lamp gradually reveals her features. A revealing, jet-black dress shows off her smooth, milky-brown skin. The woman shoves her chest out seductively as she gets closer, making me slightly uncomfortable with her forwardness.
Her roundish face is topped with pearl-white hair cropped off above the shoulders, bejeweled along the crease of her hair with rubies. Her eyes, however, are the part that troubles me the most: her irises are a deep purple, and her pupils a burning red. Two tatoos along the cheekbones highlight her eyes' fierceness.
I could almost consider her hot, or sexy, or something, but in a sketchy, wicked sort of way.
"But given the fact that he gave me such a nice strip show, I think I'll cut him a deal." A wicked smile spreads across her face.
I shake my head. "I'm not striking any kind of a deal with a hooker."
"Hooker?!" she yells. "Never!"
I motion toward her practically-unconcealed breasts, eyebrows raised, eyes glazed in skepticism. "Really."
She scoffs, stepping closer, a smirk twitching onto her red lips. "You wish I would sell myself to you. I am very desirable."
I shrug nonchalantly. "I'm poor, so."
Soon she's less than an arm's length away from me, but I'm not too concerned; she doesn't seem like much of a threat. "Really. Hm. How honorable."
"What do you want, lady?" I demand abruptly, getting sick of her advancements.
She smiles. "Like I said, I want to make you a deal."
"What deal?"
"Here is what you will do. You and I will form an alliance." She touches the pads of her fingers together, long black nails clicking against one another. "You will bring me every member of the M.O.D.—aside from their leader, obviously—dead or alive."
Confused, I blink at her. "Why?" I ask. "Who are you?"
"My name is Cia…"
Cia. The name that Onox said.
"…And I am the leader of the Young United Guardians of Anarchy."
"Young United…" Gaze falling, I trail off. Then, I dart my eyes back up to meet hers. "Y.U.G.A."
"Correct."
"Vaati's gang."
"Ooh, you know him?"
I stammer, "Um… He… was my first victim."
"Victim?" Cia scoffs, frowning, placing a hand on her hip, eyebrows raised. "Please, don't even try to sound like us. You don't victimize anybody."
"Not yet, I haven't."
"Ah. So that brings me to your benefits." Her smile returns. "If you meet my demands… I will give you Dragmire."
A spark ignites within my chest, an ounce of hatred and desire for such an occurrence. She would "give" me Dragmire, huh? As if I can't get to him on my own; I've been making decent progress. As I open my mouth to explain this, she beats me to it.
"Do not think, Hero, that you can do this without my services." She narrows her eyes.
"Why couldn't I?"
"Because your shadow doesn't offer a fraction of the protection and resources that I can. My colleagues, my connections… they will save your life." Cia nods affirmatively, and I actually take that as a good point. "And," she adds, raising a finger in the air, "believe me when I say you really don't want us as your enemies."
I laugh mockingly. "Is that a threat?"
"It's a guarantee."
"Well what's in it for you, huh?" I inquire. "What's the catch?"
"I get to rule the streets of Castle Town. It's simple," she replies, placing her hand on my cheek, alarmingly close to the mask that obscures my identity.
"Let me lay down some ground rules, then, lady. One—" I place my hands on her shoulders and push her away lightly, finally distancing ourselves. "—you get the hell away from me."
As she stumbles, taken aback, she sends me a death glare.
"Two, your 'colleagues' don't interfere with what I do. If they see me, they don't talk to me. They stay the hell away."
"Is that all?"
I shake my head. "Three, I don't bring the M.O.D. to you for your sick bastards to torture. I bring them to the police, keep 'em off the streets for good. Four, when we get to Ganondorf, I'm the one who kills him."
"There is no way I can—"
"Don't think that you can rule the streets without my services," I interrupt, a sly smirk twitching onto my lips. "And you do not want me as an enemy."
I keep rule number five in my head. The rule that when this is all over, I'm coming after her gang.
I'm going to free the streets.
"Fine," she spits, reaching her right hand out for a shake.
I take it, squeezing the small hand firmly just to agitate her further. "Pleasure doing business with you, Cia."
Before I know it, she retracts her hand, taking my leather glove with it. The bright, golden light spills out into the blackness of the alley, and she stares down at my hand in realization. "Ahh," she says, "this is why Dragmire so dearly desires you."
I snatch the glove back and shove it on, furiously glaring at her. "Goodbye." Spinning around on my heel, I walk away from the gang lord.
"Pleasure doing business with you, Hero!" she calls.
When I'm back inside Zelda's room, she's sound asleep, curled up and lying on her side. I almost don't want to wake her, thinking I should instead go back to my dorm; but if someone catches me, I'm roasted. So I heave a sigh, remove the cap and mask so she knows I'm not some serial killer, and tap her lightly on the shoulder. "Zelda," I say softly.
She comes to, rolling slowly to face me. "Link?"
I nod with a smile; she looks adorable when she's tired.
"How'd you get in here? I thought I locked the door…"
Motioning toward the open window, I shrug and say, "I climbed."
Zelda squints. "It's four stories."
"It's past curfew. I couldn't get caught this way."
Her mouth forms a small O-shape as she sits up in her bed.
"Um, this might be weird for me to ask…" Rubbing the back of my neck, I awkwardly avert my eyes. "But it's pretty late, and I've sort of… had a troublesome first month here with the staff…" I finally meet her gaze, finding relief in her amused expression. "Do you think I can stay here tonight…?"
She smiles, giggling subtly. "Sure, I don't mind. As long as you don't hog the covers."
I squint. "We… um… We're sharing?"
Her cheeks flush pink as she realizes her mistake. "Oh, um… y-you can take Karane's bed," she says quietly, "if you want."
"Can I use your bathroom?" I ask, changing the subject. "I need to change out of this." I motion toward the protective, battle-proficient outfit.
"Is that your superhero costume?"
"I prefer the term 'suit', not 'costume'."
Zelda laughs lightly, the traces of her embarrassment now gone. "Yeah, go ahead."
"Thanks."
I change back into my clothes from earlier today—khakis and a gray long-sleeved shirt (uncomfortable sleepwear, ugh)—and return to Zelda.
"You know," she says when I walk back in, "I'm still mad at you for barging in on me while I was half-naked."
"Well I knocked!"
"Yeah well you should've said who it was! Lulu and Mikau just broke up so I thought she'd come crying to me!"
"You should've asked, 'Who is it?' like everyone does."
"Whatever. You owe me," she grumbles, fake-pouting, folding her arms. Gods, that's adorable.
"What, do you wanna see me half-naked? Just flash you right here and now?" I tease, gripping the hem of my shirt in preparation.
She laughs. "No, come on, Link."
I laugh too, then dramatically plop face-down next to her on the bed.
With a giggle, she says, "I thought you were staying in Karane's bed."
I lift my head up to meet her bright blue eyes, smiling. "I decided I'd rather give some company to my sick friend."
"If anyone's sick, it's you. You're a pervert, remember?"
"Or maybe you're a hooker, just shoving your chest out for all guys to see."
"Wow," she comments, smile growing as she flicks me in the head. "Mean."
I shuffle over so I sit beside her, placing my arm around her shoulder and pulling her close, resuming where we had left off. Contented, I rub the fabric of her red shirt sleeve with my fingers.
"Did you help the cops?"
I shake my head. "I didn't get there in time. But it didn't get out of line; just a fight between some thugs that broke out."
"Mm." Zelda sighs and leans her head on my shoulder, closing her eyes. "Thanks for staying with me tonight."
"No problem, Zel," I reply.
"You're a good friend, Link."
"You too."
I pull the bed covers over the both of us, and we both lie down underneath them. I look over at her, slowly drifting off to sleep, and sigh wistfully. If only Zelda knew how I really think of her.