June, 2020: Warning: Unedited. Low quality.

COUNTING STARS

Chapter 15: Coward

Monday, November 5th

"Hey, Link," Zelda greets with a warm smile from inside her father's house. She pushes the door open further, revealing the interior of the home behind where she stands.

"Hi, Zelda," I respond with a grin of my own.

You should leave.

"Come on in."

Don't go in.

I must've hesitated, because she grabs me by the arm, playfully pulling me inside the home. The door closes, and I survey the interior. It's decently-sized, quaint, and rather nice. We stand in the living room, complete with a large television before a cream-colored sofa, some glass coffee tables, and a fireplace with a Hylian shield above it. In the back is a staircase, leading to the second floor. To our left appears to be the dining room, where a wooden table sits covered by a white sheet, six chairs surrounding it. A door is in the back of this room.

"My dad's in the kitchen," Zelda says, pointing to the door I'd been observing. "We can just wait in here." She smiles, her smooth fingers wrapping around my hand. She leads me to the sofa, then takes a seat.

It's not too late to turn back.

I plop down beside her, still holding her hand in mine, rubbing my thumb against her soft skin. She looks at me with a warm smile, and I return it, then my gaze drops.

Zelda notices. "Link, are you okay?"

I meet her eyes, blink to show confusion, then nod. "Yeah," I answer half-honestly—heart says I'm fine, mind says I'm not.

"You're kinda spacey right now," she tells me with a brief smile. "It's . . . different."

I owe it to Zelda to tune out my mind. It's time to let my heart make the decisions. So, I look at her and sigh, "I'm sorry, Zel. I've just been thinking a lot."

Zelda nods. "I understand why that is. Do you want to talk to me about it?"

Not exactly, for obvious reasons, but I'll make something up that sounds reasonable. "Sure. . . . Remember when I went to go save Dark?"

She narrows her eyes at me. "You mean the time we were on vacation, I wanted to come with you, you rejected me, then ditched me?"

I blink. " . . . Y-yes?"

"Yeah, that rings a bell."

Biting my lip, I look at her awkwardly. Then I lean over and kiss her quickly. "Better?"

You dumbass.

Ugh, come on. My mind still intervenes.

Zelda's cheeks flare pink at my unexpected move, and she looks away, abashed. " . . . A little."

"I thought you already got even with me for that."

"What do you mean?"

"You hit me with a hairdryer," I explain to jog her memory.

"Oh," she says through her giggles, then shrugs. "I don't regret it at all."

I push her shoulder lightly, playfully.

"So what about that day?" Zelda asks, curious now.

"Well, um . . ." I pause, trying to think about what to tell her. Honestly I could tell her anything about that day. Maybe about trapping Sakon in the chicken cage? Nah, that makes me sound too mean. Oh! I got it. "Remember those texts from Dark's phone?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, whoever the M.O.D. dude was who sent them—" Sakon? Veran? One of those two hired guards? "—knew my name, other than Hero. Do you know what this means?"

"That you can finally get rid of your weird street name?"

I scoff, eyes widening. "Hero? It's not weird!"

"It shows the cocky part of you," she says with a humored smirk.

I shake my head, albeit still amused. "Oh, I'll show you the cocky part of m—" I stop; her eyebrows raise. "—That came out wrong. Ignore that."

Zelda laughs, and I can't help but doing so too. "Okay," she says, fighting giggles, "I'm sorry. What does it mean?"

"Well," I begin, smile gradually fading from my face, "whoever sent the texts had to have gotten my name from Ghirahim."

Zelda's mouth forms in an O-shape. "He attends the academy," she says, a look of recognition flashing across her face.

"Now he attends jail. Anyway, it means the M.O.D. can ask him for any information about me—like where I live and go to school." I look down. "If they come here . . . they could hurt people I care about."

"Well, well, well! If it isn't Link Gaiden," booms the familiarly-deep voice of the headmaster, entering the dining room from the kitchen. We turn around, looking backward from the sofa. "You know, I honestly thought Zelda would've invited Malon tonight."

I grin at him, remembering how friendly this guy is. Not your typical school authority. "Zelda didn't tell you who she invited?" I ask. Mr. Harkinian shakes his head in reply. "Well—what if she invited someone like, I don't know, Pipit Westbrook?"

Zelda smiles, and her dad rolls his eyes. "Ugh—Please, Link. You'll spoil your dinner."

We laugh. "You know him?"

"He's visited my office quite a few times. And when he did, he would not stop staring at the photo of Zelda on my desk."

Zelda squints, a little confused at first, but then rolls her eyes in exasperation with our buddy Tidbit.

Mr. Harkinian continues: "Which is funny, because that's exactly what you did, Link."

Heat rises to my cheeks. "Wait, what?" Zelda meets my eyes, clearly humored.

Her dad points a finger at me and laughs deeply. "Gotcha! Hah. Sorry, Link, I had to."

I chuckle awkwardly as Zelda rubs my hand with hers. Luckily, to end the awkward phase we've entered, of all things, a doberman tumbles into the dining room. It prances around the table, then the sofa, and then up to me and Zelda.

"Disco!" she exclaims, reaching to pet its head lovingly.

Meanwhile, my eyes widen, and I back away from the dog a little, remembering how vicious it was that night I first met it. I'd been following Ghirahim and Vaati when that was, and Disco did not seem too happy to see me.

"Oh, don't be afraid—pet him!" Zelda coaxes, smiling at me.

I look at Disco, and he looks back. Then his lips curl back into a snarl, revealing his large, threatening teeth. I turn to Zelda. "Y'know, I'm good."

About twenty minutes later, the three of us sit at the dining table, Zelda and I side-by-side with Mr. Harkinian across from us. Before me, a hunk of brown meat sits on a white plate—which must be the fill-ay min-yawn—with silverware and a napkin on either side of it. Zelda and I each were given wine glasses filled with ice water, while her father's is filled with wine.

I eye the setup curiously, before seeing Zelda place her napkin neatly on her lap. I mimic her, not too familiar with proper dining habits. Back home, Rusl would simply toss everything in a bowl and say "Eat up, buddy!" before heading off to work at the ranch. Man, how things have changed since then.

Mr. Harkinian has already began digging into his steak, knife in his right hand, fork in his left. Taking note of this, I do the same with my silverware.

Zelda watches me curiously. "You've never eaten like this before, have you?"

I look at her. "How could you tell?"

"The fact that you're a boy, and your kind eats a lot in short amounts of time, yet you haven't started."

"I was learning by watching."

Zelda smiles. "Here, watch me."

Mr. Harkinian idly observes from across the table as Zelda shows me how to cut the flaming yawn—er, filet mignon. Cut with the knife in your right hand, pick it up with the fork in your left hand, then eat it. Obviously she does it with more delicacy than I do, but I'm quick to learn it. Then again, in the first place it isn't very hard.

"I take it you've grown acquainted with Zelda, yes, Link?" Mr. Harkinian inquires.

My eyes meet his, brows raised, and I nod. "Yep. She and I are very good friends now," I answer without thinking.

Oh, shit. I shouldn't have said that. Zelda's smile falters, her gaze falls, and her brow furrows. That sounded like I was friend-zoning her.

"Well that's nice." He smiles genuinely, while Zelda does everything but that.

I recognize the urgent need to change the subject, so I ask her quickly, "How come you don't live here, since it's on campus?"

Her blue eyes meet mine. "Well. A lot of other people have lived in it before, since every headmaster is given this home once they get the job, and I didn't really like that. So once I was old enough to get into the academy, I decided to live in the dorm. It's great, because all my friends live in the dorms, plus I get the experience."

I nod, commenting, "Well, I think you made the right choice." She nods in agreement. Getting her talking seemed to have worked; maybe she's moved past my unintended friend-zoning earlier. For good measure, I place a hand on her knee and send her a smile, prompting her to look my way and reluctantly return it.

Get that hand off and look away.

Shut up! my heart roars back.

"So, Link," the headmaster begins, "I hate to bring up school-related affairs while you are our guest, but there has been something of late that I can't seem to figure out."

Piqued, I eye him questioningly. "And that is?"

He stares down at his meal with a pensive frown. "Surely, with today's the news, you've heard of the supposed criminal named Hero, correct?"

I can feel the tension in the air. Zelda's breath hitches, gaze falling. "Y-yeah," I answer. "What about him?"

Mr. Harkinian sighs. "He's supposedly a student of the academy."

"Really?" I ask, faking surprise.

"He wore a Hyrule Academy sweatshirt in the media's footage of him," he says.

"Well—" I bite my lip. "—maybe he picked it up somewhere and wore it to protect his identity," I suggest.

"Even if he did, that didn't stop several reporters from coming to the academy and asking me questions about him."

My eyebrows raise. "They did that?"

A nod. "He's been bringing negative publicity to our honored academy. I want to know if you know anything about this student-criminal, so I can have him expelled immediately."

Shit.

"Do we have to talk about this now, Dad?" Zelda asks in accusative tone, clearly feeling the tension as well.

As Mr. Harkinian turns to his daughter to offer a response, I cut in: "I don't know of anyone who could be that guy."

"Alright," he says. "No worries, Link; I will have this handled."

The next few minutes is spent in silence, save for the clang of silverware against plates. I never knew how damn good filet mignon is; then again, it's rich people food, so it should be good.

About halfway through my steak, I ask Mr. Harkinian, "Do you think that Hero guy actually could be a hero, though?"

Under the table, Zelda kicks my leg lightly, as if to say Don't start this up again! I place my hand on her knee to assure her I know what I'm doing.

The headmaster, squinting in confusion, shakes his head slightly. "I think he tries too hard to be known, and his only purpose is to cause a ruckus and anger the police."

"Well maybe he's a guy trying to do what the police can't—"

"Can't?" Mr. Harkinian repeats, his eyebrows raising. "Chief Auru happens to be one of my greatest friends. If there is anything he can't do, he wouldn't be in charge of maintaining order in this city."

"The police couldn't get to the Tri District in time to stop that shooter, and the police couldn't stop the guy who shot down the helicopter, but Hero did," I tell him stubbornly.

I don't notice right away, but he's growing frustrated, and frankly, so am I. "Look, Link. I'm not the chief. But from what the chief has told me, this 'Hero'—he's a threat."

"I don't know why people don't even give him a chance—"

"I don't know why you are so passionate about this," Mr. Harkinian grumbles, forehead creased. "And I don't know why you keep defending him."

I blink, sending Zelda a look. She looks back, her countenance expressing nervousness and concern. Turning back to her father, I say in a quiet, innocent tone, "I-I'm an optimist. It's a habit for me to think anything's possible."

His frown doesn't leave his face, and he doesn't reply, eyes locked with mine.

Gaze falling, I sigh. Quickly, I say, "Thank you very much for the dinner, Mr. Harkinian. Excuse me for a moment." I stand up quickly, meekly avoiding eye contact before making my way toward the door.

"Now look what you've done," says Zelda's voice as the door shuts softly behind me. Letting my feet take me wherever they desire, I keep my eyes on the ground, carefree of my destination.

A frigid breeze passes through the air, causing me to shiver, the cold nipping at my bare hands and face. Pulling the hood of my blue jacket over my head, and putting on my gloves, I continue wandering.

I walk along the sidewalk until I get to the corner, then lean against the lamppost. I stand there in silence, occasionally searching the sky for a single star, but dark clouds had rolled in. No stars in the sky tonight.

"You didn't have to do that."

I turn my head, and there she is, with a white scarf wrapped snugly around her neck and a matching beanie over her blonde hair. Zelda comes closer to me and wraps an arm around my waist, sighing.

"I was trying to clear my name."

"I know," she says softly, "but I already tried doing that with him. It's difficult to change his mind once he believes something."

I meet her eyes. "Thank you for that."

"No problem," she says, smiling warmly. "I always got your back, Link."

I exhale deeply. Tilting my head back up toward the sky, I resume my search. Still nothing.

"You're still thinking, aren't you?"

I nod.

From around the corner, footsteps are heard, but the trees and foliage behind the sidewalk block whoever it is from view. I turn to Zelda, who looks toward the sound curiously. "Might not be dangerous, but stay behind me, okay?" She nods compliantly.

The person comes around the corner. Upon recognizing who it is, I freeze. "Well, well, well!" he says. "Ghirahim wasn't lying; you do go to his school."

They know.

Running a hand over his smooth, bald head, the man grins devilishly. "You know," he begins, raising a finger, "I really should kill you for leaving me in a chicken cage."

I reach back to touch Zelda's arm, silently letting her know to stay back. "Sakon," I say in a low voice. "I should kill you for coming here."

"But you won't," Sakon states matter-of-factly. "You're a hero, not a villain. You don't have the heart to kill me."

His words sting, but they have some truth to them. I had let the warehouse guard live, the one who was going to kill Dark. "Maybe not, but I do to kill your leader."

Sakon's lips stretch out into an emotionless smile. "Revenge, huh? How honorable. I like to think revenge governs all crime."

"I like to think greed does."

A pause. "Then will you get greedy, Hero?" Sakon withdraws a knife with what looks to be a five-inch blade. Behind me, Zelda gasps quietly, frightened. "Will you join me in a fight to the death?"

I do not answer, but hold my ground in order to keep Zelda safe.

Sakon tilts his head, locking eyes with her, emitting a mirthless chuckle. Looking back to me, he asserts, "Then I've got a little incentive for you." He reaches into his pocket, withdrawing small brown objects—four deku nuts.

Before I have time to react, he hurls them at me, and a blinding flash of white sends me to the ground, stunned. Deliriously, I attempt to stand up, ears ringing, spots appearing. Gradually, as I stumble to my feet, I regain my senses.

Sakon is gone. Urgently, I whirl around—only to be met with a harrowing sight.

"How about now, Hero? Want to try to kill me?"

Adrenaline courses through my veins as Sakon holds his knife to Zelda's throat. She tries ripping his arm away from her, but his grip is too strong.

"You don't need her," I say, baring my teeth, right fist clenched until it glows with heavenly light. "I'm the one you need." Zelda trembles with fear as I dare him, "Come at me."

Sakon's lip curls into a snarl, and, in an instant, pushes Zelda to his left and throws the knife straight toward me.

Reacting purely on instinct I grab the knife by the handle straight out of the air and hurl it right back where it came from. The blade strikes Sakon in the chest, lodges in the heart, and he cripples to the ground.

Thunder booms in the distance, and a flash of lightning torments the night sky.

I stand without moving, feet rooted to the same ground that a dead man lies upon. Mouth agape, eyes wide, I stare at the hand that performed the act, and realize that all heavenly light that had been emitting from it has vanished.

All this because I listened to my heart. Not my mind.

I turn and run. My feet carry me further and further away from the corner.

When the rush of adrenaline decreases and fatigue threatens to take over my legs, I slow to a stop at the vacant fountain in the academy courtyard. Placing my hands and leaning on the fountain's stone border, I force my eyes shut and release a strangled cry of agony. Chest tightening, my mind is racing, scolding me for letting my heart make the decisions, because look where that got you!

I sag to the ground and bury my face in my hands, the unforgiving night air now much colder. As I lean my head on my knees, my body trembles and my breathing is ragged as I try fighting another developing anxiety attack.

"Link," says Zelda's voice.

Had she followed me? I don't lift my head. Silence ensues.

Protect her. . . .

"Zelda," I say quietly. Removing my hands, I look up at her slowly. She stands before me, appearing concerned, eyes wet with tears that threaten to fall. "We, um . . . we need to talk."

Rising to my feet, I take a deep breath, dreading what's next. I let my mind take control, exhale, and do what needs to be done.

"Zelda, I can't be with you."

And here it is. The conversation I've been dreading since October ninth.

Zelda, blinking back surprise, stares at me. "W-what?"

Ashamed, I shake my head. "Since my uncle died, I—I haven't allowed myself to have a girlfriend. . . . And I don't plan on changing that."

Zelda's gaze falls, and she stares down at the pavement with an incredulous expression. " . . . Is this—" She squints in confusion. "Is this a breakup?"

"Were we together in the first place?"

"Just about," she states with a nod, making it seem like it was obvious. "One month, Link. That's how long it took for you to make me fall in love with you."

Relentless waves of guilt wash over me as I look down in shame.

"You made me fall for you, and the whole time you never planned on making it last."

"Zelda, I love you," I assure her, reaching out to touch her shoulder.

"Then why isn't that enough?!" she demands, swatting my arm away, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Why can't that overpower your predetermined rule against committing?!"

I look deeply into her blue eyes, sincerely telling her, "I would rather die than to see you get hurt, Zelda. Truly." I pause, fighting tears of my own. "Powerful people are out to get me, and they could get to you."

She closes her eyes, shaking her head defiantly. "That shouldn't matter, though, right? You're Hero, the city's protector! I've seen you protect me! How hard am I to keep safe?"

" . . . I can't promise I'll keep you out of danger for the rest of your life."

"Wow," she murmurs. Her eyes close, and she inhales deeply, then exhales. When they open once more, they display a look of hopelessness and sorrow. "You know what I see from you, Link? Lack of care."

I squint in confusion, waiting for her to finish her thought.

"You don't think I've stuck by you this whole time, despite your flaws, your irrational decisions, your bad temper?" Zelda pauses. "Yet you choose not to stick by me. You don't care. You got me to fall in love with you without even thinking about committing."

"Zelda, it's not lack of care at all, it's being realistic," I say softly. "I'm sorry, but you're crazy if you think I haven't thought about it, or if you think I don't care for you."

"Love isn't realistic, Link," she says defiantly, shaking her head. "What happened to you being an optimist? Be optimistic about this!"

"I've learned that optimists get let down," I say—and it's a pain to say. "I was optimistic that my uncle would be with me forever. But I got let down." I take a deep breath. "Are you willing to risk your life to be with me?"

"Yes," she states affirmatively. "The problem is that you aren't."

"I'll risk my life for you without batting an eye, but I refuse to risk yours."

"That isn't up to you!" Zelda shouts, tears pouring out her sapphire eyes. "That should be my choice!" Shaking her head, she idly looks off toward the academy building. "You played me, Link. You got me to love you, messed with my feelings for a whole month, then dumped me. You're no better than Pipit."

It's silent between the two of us for the next few moments. I look down at the ground in shame, speechless, as Zelda tries to control her emotions.

"You know . . . I thought you were different. But you're just like everybody else."

With that, she leaves me where I stand, bitterly cold under the grim overcast of a starless sky.

Tuesday, November 6th

The phrase "love at first sight" seemed quite appropriate for my relationship with Zelda. Although, back then, I had simply refused to accept the fact that I had feelings for another so soon after my uncle was ripped away from me. And, as time went on, it would be likely for me to "move on" from such a tragedy, albeit not completely, and to allow myself to be happy again.

That's what happened, I'd say. I got too comfortable, too happy, when I should have been focused on more important matters like my uncle's case. And because of that, I made a mistake: I kissed Zelda. I expressed my love to her.

Granted, she kissed me first. But I reciprocated the feelings, nonetheless.

Doing so gave her the idea that we were an item. Us being an item would put her in danger—fighting the M.O.D. had earned me some powerful enemies. While you might think I'm quite capable of fending for myself and protecting Zelda now, there is only a matter of time before I am met with an enemy I simply cannot handle.

So despite my initial love for the beautiful girl I met on my first day of school, I am forced to stay away from her. To draw away my enemies from her. To protect her.

I do this because I have to. I do this with love. The thought of her being harmed because of me is too much of a risk.

The mere thought of her being harmed sends me into an emotional and mental fit—my newfound anxiety issues.

I fear being a very rare medical case, a seventeen-year-old heart attack victim. Maybe I should stop letting my heart make decisions, as my mind continuously reminds me.

No matter what the cliché says, your heart leads you to do the nonsensical. And while love shouldn't make sense, sometimes it's better off trusting your mind.

More and more are discovering my identity. First Ghirahim and Vaati, then Veran, and lastly Sakon—who, albeit, isn't much of a factor anymore. This is dangerous. If I am discovered, Zelda, my friends, my school, everyone close to me could be victimized by this gang. Luckily they can't find out all my information from just a first name or a physical appearance.

But Ghirahim can. And he relayed that info to Sakon. Who's to say he won't relay it to someone else, someone like Ganondorf?

I whip out my FiPhone, hastily dialing up Shad.

"Hello?"

"Shad, I need you to do something nearly impossible."

" . . . In my experience in these areas, uh, the odds will be very much against me."

"I need you to get Ghirahim Daemon out of the Castle Town jail. Alright? Move him out of there. I don't care where—Lakeside, Eldinburg, Snowpeak, anywhere but here. Got it?"

"Um, okay, I'll see what I can do." A pause. "Why?"

"Somehow," I begin with a sigh, "he's sending word out to his gang about who I am and where I'm at. This one dude Sakon already—" I freeze. I wasn't supposed to mention that. "Never mind. Just get Ghirahim out of—"

"Sakon Douglas? The M.O.D. gang member who was found dead on the corner near Hyrule Academy?" he asks. "I'm starting to think you had something to do with this."

I hang up abruptly, trembling. If the police didn't think I needed to be locked up before, they most definitely will think it now—that is, if Shad informs them that it was Hero who killed him. But that's not what causes my trembling. A man's death is on my hands. That's what.

My phone buzzes. I check it; it's a text from Shad.

If it was you, I understand you had your reasons. You're no criminal. Me and my crew are out on the corner. Let's talk. It's really important, needs to be told face to face.

Sighing, I type my reply: 5 mins.

Pocketing my phone, I get up from my bed, throwing on a shirt and jacket to cover my naked torso. Hastily, I exit my dorm room, take the stairs to the bottom floor, and emerge into the open air.

Rain falls in a torrential downpour, and the occasional flash of lightning illuminates the grim sky. Perfect weather to fit my mood. I pull up my hood, jam my hands into my pockets, and trek down the sidewalk, the rainwater cascading down its winding path along with me.

When I pass the headmaster's house, the scene of the corner comes into view. Yellow police tape blocks off the road both ways, and two black and white cars are parked along the curb, with one more police car sitting off on the opposite side of the street. Standing beside the outlying vehicle, Shad observes his coworkers' actions from afar.

I arrive at the outside of the tape, catching the attention of an officer. He turns to address me, removing silver aviators from his eyes. "Back up, buddy. Ever seen yellow police tape before?"

I shake my head honestly, shrugging.

"Pfft," scoffs the officer. "In this city? Don't play dumb with me, buddy."

"I'm from Ordonia, buddy," I reply, eyes narrowing, "where people are nice. I'd like to speak with my detective."

"Link," Shad calls after finally noticing my presence. He makes his way over to me, brushing past the officer. "You can come in."

"What business does he have here?" asks his coworker.

"The victim's gang killed his uncle."

"That was your uncle?" he asks, turning back toward me. "Still, you have no authorization to come in. Shad, if you want to talk to him, then you go out."

"Fine." He steps over the tape, sending the guy a dirty look before he stalks off. Shad leads me further from the scene, out of earshot from the officers.

"What did you want to talk about?"

"Your name is cleared," he says in a low voice, to my utmost relief. "Sakon wasn't in any of our files. No DNA records, fingerprints, nothing. He was literally invisible."

I squint in confusion, asking quietly, "Then how do you know his name?"

"I met him back when I was attending law school here in Castle Town. I was walking down the street to my apartment when he came up to me, introduced himself as Sakon Douglas, and offered to sell me cocaine." He shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly. "I saw the crescent moon tattoo and figured out he was in the M.O.D."

"Why would a drug dealer just give his name out like that?" I ask skeptically.

Shad shrugs again. "When you're not in any files, why would a name matter?"

"True."

"Anyway, a couple of my guys suggested that it was a student here at the academy who killed him," he says. Noticing my look of worry, he raises a hand. "Don't fret. They went to question the headmaster. Even though he said you and his daughter were out at the time of the murder, his daughter—Zelda? Yes, Zelda—said you two had only gone to the fountain."

I look down at the ground in shock.

"I told them to look at the knife that did the killing, and sure enough, it had a crescent moon engraved on the blade—the M.O.D. emblem. So now everyone thinks it was a disagreement within the gang." A pause. "Oh, and no fingerprints on it. You're lucky you were wearing gloves. Trust me, you're safe."

"Thank you," I say to Shad, though I wish I could tell that to Zelda. She had my back—she's always had my back.

"You told her 'We need to talk'?!" Sheik asks incredulously. "What kinda shitty lining is that?"

I blink. "What's wrong with saying that?"

Mikau answers bluntly, "You basically told her, 'Hey, here's some shitty news,' then told her the shitty news."

"Well good, then I didn't catch her completely off guard," I comment quietly, scratching the back of my head.

"Link?" Pipit asks, looking visibly concerned.

"Yeah?"

"Are you . . . okay with your decision?" he asks. "I mean, from an outsider's perspective, it . . . seemed like you really loved this girl."

"Well . . ." I bite my lip, lowering my gaze. "In a lot of ways, I'm not okay with it, but ultimately I have to be," I answer, pausing. "I mean, I've told you guys before that I didn't want a girlfriend. It, um . . . It feels like shit right now, but I think it's for the best."

They nod quietly.

"This is gonna screw up the whole group, now," Sheik grumbles. We turn to him with questioning expressions. "First Pipit's failure with Karane, then Mikau dumpin' Lulu—"

"Actually, we're ge—"

"—and now you and my sister, Link."

Both Pipit and Mikau shout, "What?!"

He blinks. "Guess we haven't told you guys yet," Sheik says with little emotion. "My mom is actually Zelda's mom too. We've been half-siblings this whole time. Surprise."

Mikau laughs. "Bro, this whole time you were drooling over her and calling her hot!"

I turn to send him a grin. "That's what I said!"

"Ugh," Sheik whines, dropping his head to the table. "Why couldn't my dad just wear a condom . . . ?"

"You realize you wouldn't be born, then, right?" I ask.

"At this point, it wouldn't be so bad."

"Don't say that, now," I say. "If you weren't here, who would I have as a roommate?"

"Me!" exclaims a voice.

I dart my head toward the source of the sound: our dorm's open window, with Dark's head poking inside. I roll my eyes. "Dark, we have a door."

"What's cool about that?" he asks, climbing into the dorm. He looks around, seeing Pipit, Mikau, and Sheik. "Hey, guys."

"Hey, Dark," they respond slowly, eyeing him curiously.

"Uh, dude," Pipit says slowly to Dark, whose eyebrows raise expectantly, "we're on the third floor."

"Yeah?"

" . . . So how'd you get up here?"

"I'm pretty athletic."

A knock on the door is heard, and Dark calls instantly, "Come in!"

"Dude—!" I protest, shooting him a glare.

"What?"

The door opens, and Midna walks in slowly. "Hey, guys."

I sigh, relieved. For some reason, my paranoid mind wandered to the possibility that it could've been Veran, or Cia, or Agahnim or Volga or whoever coming to get me. I don't know why I even considered that; it's not like they know where I live, unless they contacted Ghirahim—the prime reasoning for my request to Shad to remove Ghirahim from the city.

Although, Vaati knows I'm at the academy, too, but luckily he and I have an alliance for now, so that information should remain undisclosed to his Y.U.G.A. cronies.

My relief doesn't stop me from taking my paranoia out on Dark. Frowning, I whisper forcefully to him, "How could you have known that wasn't someone in the gang coming to capture you again?!"

Dark just looks onward blankly, showing no emotion, refusing to reply.

Confused, I give it up and look toward Midna, who's been looking my way in the meantime. "Hey, Mid, it's been awhile—"

"Shut up, you jackass," she grumbles, storming in and shutting the door forcefully.

"Oh shit," Pipit chimes, eyebrows raised in surprise. Mikau and Sheik match his expression, watching from afar.

I blink as Midna marches up to me, thrusting a finger to my chest. "Listen up, douche-hole," she orders, nostrils flaring and lips curling into a snarl. "I've got no life, which gives me all day to ruin yours. You screwed the hell up with Zelda, and you know it."

I nod, trying to suppress the anguish rising to my chest. "I know."

Midna blinks, taken aback, not expecting that answer from me. She shakes her head vigorously, her previous bravado returning. "D-doesn't matter! You played with her feelings, man! I liked you! I thought you would be good for her after all she's been through!"

I lower my gaze, then sigh. " . . . Is she upset?"

Midna nods. "I haven't seen her this miserable in the entire time I've known her."

No . . . She's miserable? Well, what should I expect? I feel like shit. My heart sinks. Pressure surfaces in my chest as my breathing becomes more labored.

Not again . . .

Sheik notices. "Hey, Link," he calls, urgently hopping up from his seat and rushing over to me. He brushes past Midna, grabbing me by the shoulders and looking into my eyes. I blink several times, focusing on his scarlet irises, and my breathing slows and becomes steadier. "Relax, bud. You're okay," he tells me calmly.

Everyone in the room is looking our way, confused.

Sheik turns around, addressing the girl behind him. "Midna," he says, not noticing her breath hitching, "do you think you could drop it? I think you're overreacting."

"Y-you're under-reacting!" she protests, though clearly intimidated.

"Please, Mid." He pauses, unaware to her behavior. "This conversation is over."

Her brow furrows stubbornly. "This conversation is under!"

"Goodbye."

"Bad-bye!"

Sheik walks me to the couch, where I slowly take a seat, attempting to keep my heart rate down.

"Link, I can't believe how you're acting through all this!" Midna says. "You're supposed to be just as miserable if you ever cared about Zelda. Why are you acting like this?"

I inhale, exhale, then say in a calm and quiet voice, "Because I accepted that we can't be together."

"You're taking the easy way out," she growls. "You're a coward."

"Midna!" Sheik shouts abruptly, having finally lost his cool. "Please leave. Now."

No one seems to notice but me as Midna sniffles quietly, eyes tearing up. She turns on her heel and hurries out, the door slamming behind her.

I had forgotten the fact that she's in love with Sheik.

Coward, she said. Am I a coward? Am I a disgrace to the Triforce of Courage?

Back to normal, I turn to Sheik. "Thanks . . . for calming me down." He nods as Pipit and Mikau still give me confused looks.

Remembering Dark's strange behavior—even for Dark standards—I turn around to look at him.

He blinks his maroon eyes several times, then whips his head in my direction. "Whew! Sorry, bro, I was lost in thought. It was unfamiliar territory."

"No kidding," I reply. "What were you thinking about?"

He shrugs. "Oh, you know—Pop-Tarts." A blatant lie. "Speaking of, I'm gonna go get some. Might as well use one of those 'door' things, right?" Dark says, using air quotes, and hopping up quickly.

I squint, following him with my eyes, concerned with his suspicious behavior. He exits the dorm, sending a wink my way before letting the door shut.

"Well, he knows how to use one," Mikau comments idly.

"Hey, um, I'm gonna get some air," I announce, mostly to Sheik. He nods, understanding.

As I follow in Dark's footsteps—not figuratively, of course—I hear Pipit ask quietly, "What's his deal?" before the door shuts behind me.

Outside, I hear quickly-receding steps down the hall. Looking toward the end, I see Dark's figure jogging toward the staircase, shouting, "Hey! Wait up!" before he disappears from my sight behind the wall.

Curiously, I follow him, taking quiet steps. Peering around the wall, standing at the top of the stairs, I eavesdrop on Dark as he bounds down to the third level. There, he puts a hand on a girl's shoulder—Midna.

"Hey, you got a sec?"

Midna turns around quickly, fists up in defense, before recognition flashes across her countenance. "Oh, Link's twin."

"Not actually; I'm his doppelganger."

Eyes glazed, she replies monotonously, "What do you want."

"Look, Michaela—"

"Midna."

"Right, sorry," Dark says. "Mia, I noticed—"

"Mid-na," she corrects once more.

"Marina, I noticed that you were almost crying back there in Link's room," he says innocently.

Ignoring the fact that Dark once again got her name wrong, Midna fixes him with a puzzled look. "Y-you were in there?"

"I tend to blend in."

"Oh," she says. "And I don't know what you're talking about."

Dark smiles. "Yeah, you do. You almost cried when Zeke told you to leave. It's okay to cry, you know."

"His name is Sheik."

"That's what I said."

" . . . No you didn't."

Dark blinks. "Oh. Well, I'm not good with names."

"I couldn't tell."

With a smile, Dark leans on the railing of the stairway, maintaining eye contact. "What made you sad?"

Midna fixes him with a curious look. "Why should I tell you? I barely know you."

He scoffs. "This would be how you get to know someone."

She pauses, then nods. " . . . Good point."

"So?" Dark asks expectantly.

"Sheik made me sad," Midna admits, rolling her eyes. "And I hate being sad more than anything. Well, not more than when people know that I'm sad."

Dark sends her a grin. "You like your dignity, don't you?"

She shrugs. "Whenever I'm sad, I stop being sad. Being sad is for the weak."

"So how did he make you sad?"

Midna's gaze falls, and she sighs, smiling to hide her emotions. "It's . . . not what he said, but who the person who said it, is."

"Huh?" is all Dark can muster up for a reply.

She meets his eyes. "I have some feelings for Sheik."

He blinks, surprised. " . . . Oh."

"So it hurt when he took Link's side," Midna explains. "But I hate feelings. They suck. Feelings are for the weak."

"You're making yourself sound pretty weak right now."

She gives a small smile, then it drops. "I don't want to have these feelings, especially since he's dating one of my best friends, so this'll probably go away. And now, to top it all off, all my guy friends hate me."

Dark perks up, grinning. "I'm a guy. I can be your friend. I love new friends."

Midna smiles back, nodding slowly. "Alright. You're my new bro. Now we're friends."

"With benefits."

"Um, no."

"Alright, bro-beans," he says cheerily. "Catch you later, gator." Dark turns to head up the stairs, with Midna watching him peculiarly.

"Oh, Dark?" she calls.

"Yes?"

"It's Midna."

"Miranda. Got it." He flashes her a thumbs-up before climbing up the stairwell.

Monday, November 12th

Days have passed. This week in school, I've been mostly silent, going through the motions of school in a melancholy stupor.

It's harder and harder not to think about the source of my heartache, Zelda, with her sitting in some of the same classrooms as me. Whenever I'd see the headmaster walking around in the hallways, I'd duck my head and avoid his gaze at all costs.

As I zone out in Computer Skills while Mr. Minish gives a stupid lecture, I can't help but think about the night that changed my life.

Everything Zelda said was true. Well, nearly. I do care about her, no matter how much she claims otherwise. But I didn't plan on having a relationship with her; I didn't plan on any future between us. She was right about that. Honestly, though, despite how much I'd wonder What if? in the future, I should've never made any moves on her.

"Link, why are you not paying attention?"

I meet the old coot's eyes and shrug, refusing to reply.

"Moody today, huh?" he asks in a condescending tone. My eyes idly dart to Zelda, who keeps her sapphire-blue eyes glued to the desk before her. Frowning, Mr. Minish crosses his arms over his chest. "Link, what is your grade in this class?"

Classmates look at me, awaiting my answer, save for Zelda, continuing the staring contest with her desk. I inhale, losing my patience with this guy, then exhale. "I don't check my grades in classes that don't matter," I reply in a low voice.

"And I don't give good grades to students who don't matter," he retorts. "That should give you an idea of what your grade is in this class."

Unfazed by his words, I look away and flash him a haughty thumbs-up.

Tuesday, November 13th

"I heard Sakon died," Vaati says as he and I walk down the street, both clothed in regular attire. My Hero garb rests in my backpack, so the public won't point me out and cause a scene, and because Vaati already knows my identity.

"I heard that too."

"Heard it from your eyes?" Vaati snorts. "It was right outside the academy; I know it was you."

"I refuse to admit anything."

"Smart," he comments. "Anyway, I told everyone in my gang it was suicide."

"How come?" I ask.

"So no one goes to the academy to find you."

I think about that, blinking in surprise. "Well thanks."

"Don't thank me," he says with a shake of his head. "I've got people there I care about, too. I'm not a total monster." He looks at me. "Plus, that would be pretty cheap to attack your home. Gotta play the game first before jumping to the end."

I nod, my respect for this dude already growing—or, appearing.

"I came to tell you something," Vaati says, cutting to the chase. "Cia's impatient with you, and wants you to get the M.O.D.s in already. You've only got Ghirahim, Onox, and Sakon."

"Tell her she can wait. This was never meant to happen overnight."

"She wants a predicted deadline from you."

"Why?"

"So we can plan to initiate phase two."

"What's phase two?"

"Confidential," he replies curtly, eyes directed forward.

I glare at him, piqued, still distrustful of his stubborn gang. "I'll have them in within a month."

"A month?!" Vaati repeats, eyeing me incredulously. "That's way too long!"

"Cry about it."

Fuming, Vaati narrows his eyes at me. "I just did you an enormous favor."

I roll my eyes. "And I'm doing you an even bigger one, since your gang could never stop the M.O.D. yourselves."

At a loss for words, Vaati grumbles quietly to himself. "Where are you taking me?" I ask him, curious.

He points upward at a billboard that reads: Welcome to the Tri District! Population: Everyone that matters!

The paved, concrete streets gradually fade to red and brown brick as we enter the old area of Castle Town. Cars cruise by on the weathered roads at much slower speeds, and the crowds here are much more thinned out. Personally, I prefer this part of town over any.

Vaati reaches an arm out, stopping me, and points up at one of Hyrule Castle's tall spires. "Ever seen the castle, country boy?"

"Once," I answer, looking up at the edifice.

"King Gustaf lives there, as you probably know," he begins, "who we respect."

"That's surprising."

"That's because you base our gang on Dragmire's." Vaati shakes his head. "We're different from them."

"Yeah?" I ask half-skeptically.

"The main difference between us, you see," he says, pointing at the castle while maintaining eye contact with me, "is that Cia wants to kill Ganondorf and rule the streets. Ganondorf wants to kill Gustaf and rule the world."

" . . . Wow," I comment to myself.

Seeing my surreal expression, Vaati shrugs. "Take that as you feel and make your decisions accordingly."

Wednesday, November 14th

It's 3 AM, and I can't sleep. Make that eight consecutive nights. The brief moments of slumber I experience result in me jolting awake in a pool of sweat after nightmares of the girl I love being harmed.

She's been miserable. And dammit, so have I.

The world is against me, and I'm against the world. Curse the goddesses for giving me such horrible luck. Curse the damn Triforce on my hand.

All it ever did was put a target on my back.

Wiping the sweat off my brow, I roll over and try to fall asleep, but to no avail. All I can think about is the countless mistakes I've made.

I guess it's time to avenge each and every single one of them.