Copyright disclaimer: I'll say this again. I have no money. I do not own the Legend of Zelda chain or anything associated with it other than this fanfiction. And that Ghirahim body pillow coming in the mail... Teehee.

CHAPTER 2: I love you, Skyloft

Skyloft City could be coined a metropolis. Though it was colossal, not many people owned cars as the public transportation system was revered for its cleanliness, safety, and care for the general public. The people that owned cars were mostly bigshot corporate people that liked to flaunt their money. Almost no one entered or left the city, as it was difficult to do so: it was surrounded by mountains on all sides, and outside of the mountains were treacherous areas that had been unexplored for decades.

Though we had a great transportation system, I usually took the train or bus once a week interchangeably, and then only because I hoped to hear about gossip throughout the city that could potentially lead to the solving of a case. Most people were completely open to sharing all of the gory details of their lives with just about anyone with ears.

"Afternoon, detective," said one of the many aged but capable women of Skyloft, on her way to her day job as the public librarian. Her hours were Monday through Wednesday and from ten o'clock to three, but she always complained, "They think I'm some kind of stale, crusty piece of bread. I can't believe they don't let me come in more than this—especially when I have to come from Central all the way to East!"

Skyloft City was divided into five districts, all distinctly different: North, South, East, West, and Central. Central was the main hub of the city that connected the other districts, a kind of hodgepodge of every area's cultures muddled together. There were two libraries in Skyloft City: Skyloftian Library of our Great Hylia, which was mostly classical Hylian literature and the rich history of Skyloft, which was in the East. The second library was in the southern district, and was named Modern Library of Skyloft. It had more recent literature, and it had become a place where youth from South hung out regularly.

"This is my stop," the librarian said. "There's a lecture on Sunday on Farore's Courage in the three part series on creation if you want to stop by. I'm sure the crowd will be much more lively if we have a hunky detective in our midst," she smiled.

I nodded. "I'll attend." She waved and got off of the train.

"Starts at 11:30, or else the old people will be late for dinner," she laughed as the doors closed.

I stayed on the train until the end of the line, and then I switched trains and stayed until the end of that line as well—visiting every district in the city, I lent my ear to many of the citizens of Skyloft, people of all shapes, sizes, and lifestyles, but none had any nagging suspicions about anything. The city was in a camelot of sorts, and a question rang in my head: what are people like me to do when there is nothing for us to do? A sort of aimlessness found its way into my bones, and I walked around the city, guiltily hoping for something to investigate.

"Detective," Fi said with a hint of surprise in her voice, as I rarely called her because she was prone to go off on tangents and then rarely speak at all. "Are there any cases for me?"

"There are only minor ones, and Zelda would like you to focus on major cases for now."

"I see," I said, tactfully concealing the disappointment I was feeling.

"Perhaps you could go home for the night. It is already eight thirty. And eat a balanced dinner, sir." Fi always reminded me to sleep the recommended amount of time every night and eat a proper serving of food, but I rarely had time to do either.

"Perhaps I will," I replied, and she hung up. I walked in the direction opposite of my apartment.

Still walking, I went to a public park in Central. It was deserted, as most would be at that time of night, and there was a kind of eeriness in the way the wind gently blew the swings back and forth. I heard a rustling behind me and instinctively swung my leg backwards and turned in one quick movement. My foot connected with something and sent it to the ground, with a surprised oh. It sounded like a voice I'd heard many times.

"Is that any way to greet your beloved informant?"

"Detective Horwell?"

"Yes, sans the 'detective' title," he replied, reaching out for his hand. I pulled him up and he brushed himself off. "You still kick like hell," he said, rubbing his stomach. His demon cat Mia growled from his shoulder. "But it's my fault for trying to surprise you. Lollipop?" He tossed me a cherry-flavored Blow Pop and walked towards a park bench. I followed.

"It isn't good for defenseless, pretty young girls like you to be out this late," he said, plopping down on the bench. It was right under a streetlamp, so we could both see the area surrounding us. He was smirking and smoking, a regular pastime of his.

"Especially when creepy old men like you are out and about," I added bluntly.

He ignored the comment. "Any information you want?"

"Any that you've got?"

Howell was once the top detective at SkyCorp and had been promoted to the Chairman of Criminal Psychology, and also worked as a teacher for new trainees. At some point, every person starting at SkyCorp was educated by Howell. I was one of those trainees and looked up to him immensely; he cared for each of his students just the same and didn't hold back any information from us. He'd solved cases I couldn't dream of even working on and was always smiling even considering his line of work. The day I finished my training, though, he came to me, put his hand on my shoulder, and said, "Things aren't right here." There was a strange tone to his voice and a look in his eyes I'd never seen before—regardless, he resigned that day. Since then, he'd become a chain-smoking bum of an informant. I always saw him smoking on some park bench with Mia on his shoulder, someplace, no matter the time of day. He didn't charge me for information which was the only reason I went to see him.

"You seem like quite the restless detective, Link," he said, with that smirk that was once a benevolent smile. "I guess you didn't learn anything on your rounds today? That man on the green line sure talked a lot, though..."
I didn't question the fact that he knew what I did all day. As an information gatherer, his methods of receiving information were beyond me.

"Even if you didn't learn anything, more things are happening these days than usual." He took a long drag of his cigarette and blew the smoke out in a slow stream that dispersed into the sky. I unwrapped the lollipop he gave me earlier and started sucking on it.
"I think I should start with the least important stuff: there have been reports of government-issued cell phones being hacked. Messages sent, emails read, etc. Probably some dumb high school kids with computers and time. Interested?"
I shook my head and took the cherry lollipop from my mouth to see if it'd gotten any smaller, then returned it to its rightful place.
He continued.

"There was also a family in the South that died from being knocked out with mild sedatives in their food and then set on fire. They think the youngest daughter did it. She's thirteen... This is more my kind of thing then yours."

"Then why don't you go and solve it," I muttered under my breath. I always resented the fact that such a great detective had left SkyCorp. He kept talking, unabashed.

"The interesting thing about this case is that even though the daughter is accused, she had burn scars all down her back that were old, like she'd been burned before. They're only accusing her because she was the one person in the family left. They have her in solitary confinement... A thirteen year old. I'd love to examine her psyche." Howell was always passionate about criminal psychology. "They're probably going to leave the case open, though, because the state doesn't know what to do with her." He took another drag of his cigarette and stubbed it out, then threw it in the trash can next to the bench.

"You said these were the least important?"

"Yes." He paused. "Do you like your job?" I nodded. "Then I won't tell you the important stuff."

I let out an exasperated breath and looked at my watch. "Goodnight, girlie. Look out for creepy old men like me," he said.

"Thanks for the candy, and stop loitering around public areas," I said, pulling out a clean lollipop stick from my mouth and standing. Mia made a move for my face.

"Yessir," he said, and saluted me, but made no move to leave. I walked away.

It was now ten o'clock, and I walked with no destination for another hour. At some point, I started to feel eyes on my back; wide, decisive, all-seeing eyes scratching at my skin. I thought I heard footsteps behind me every few minutes, but when I turned, there was no one behind me. The city was near deserted, and I couldn't help but think that I was being paranoid. My phone buzzed in my pocket and I jumped, then laughed awkwardly when I realized it was just Fi. She sent me a three word text message: Go home now. I replied with a lengthy text about the information Horwell had given me and asked if she could look into either, and she replied with I will get back to you in the morning. I suppose that was her way of telling me to go to sleep, so I walked in the direction of my apartment.
The footsteps started up again, and those unblinking eyes were tickling my neck with their eyelashes. Pure paranoia slid its way down my throat, and I picked up my pace, more and more until I was sprinting at full speed to my apartment. I ran out of stamina fairly quickly, though, so at one block away, I collapsed against a wall, breathing heavily. The thick night air mingled in my lungs until I could breathe again. Then, I heard very clearly,

"What are you running from?" Pure adrenaline replaced my blood and pumped through my veins as I frantically looked around. I stood slowly and placed my hand on the gun in the waistband of my pants. I stood like that for ten minutes, waiting for that voice to say something else. I walked back to my apartment after that and locked all six locks on my door and made sure to set the alarm. I felt more secure after that, though my body felt heavy from the adrenaline rush. I took off my suit jacket and tried to stay awake as I watched the night turn violet, but I found myself dozing off, sitting in my wooden chair.

The next morning, I got a call from Fi telling me that I was needed at the office. Pushing the events of the previous night from my mind, I took a very cold shower to rid myself of the dissatisfying sleep and my lingering grogginess and headed out.
I usually visited the SkyCorp office once or twice a month, either to turn in multiple case files at once or to partake in the mandatory bi-monthly team investigations. I was rarely called into the office because I was given more freedom as a part of my deal with Zelda to work in the firm. When I got there, it was rather early in the morning, so only a few early risers were in the building. As I ascended to the floor where the secretaries worked, right above the five floors of security, my phone buzzed. I decided to check it later as I walked to Fi's desk.

"To her office," she said, not looking up from her computer. She was typing at a terrifying speed, and I didn't want to disturb her. I walked back to the elevator, looking back once at all of the rows of empty cubicles.
I took the elevator all the way up to Zelda's floor. I walked down the familiar hallway and didn't have to knock—come in, a distinctly female voice said. Boss was again sitting as a silhouette, her back to the morning. Impa was standing expressionless, off to the side.

"Fi informed us of your interest in a case," Boss said immediately as I walked in. "The burn victims in the south." I nodded. "Pipit is working on it," she said, putting her elbows on her desk, "but I would like you to help him with it, as he is open to assistance."

"Yes, ma'am."

"My, you're more stiff than usual today."

"Shall I brief him, milady?" Impa bent over and spoke into Zelda's ear, her eyes cast down. Boss shook her head.

"Detective Pipit would like you to meet him at a restaurant, Fi will give you the address. She'll share the information you need."

"Thank you."

"Have a nice day," Boss said with a smile, then turned to the papers on her desk. I walked out and checked my phone. I didn't have a message from Fi yet, but I did have a voicemail from an unknown number, though I did not remember getting a call.

"Detective Link of SkyCorp Investigation Firm, a Skyloftian," it started. "Blonde hair, blue eyes, pale skin, 5"4', impeccable strength." The voice was incredibly high pitched, as if the sound was tampered with. "Blood type O, nineteen years old, left-handed. He looks so cute in this picture, right?" A deeper voice answered, "Yes, definitely," though it still sounded high pitched. "So cute that I want to lock him up." The voicemail ended there, and I stared at my phone. It piped up as I received a message from Fi telling me where to meet Pipit. I figured the message was probably a prank caller that dialed a random number, because I had an untraceable, no-contract cell that only Fi had any kind of access to. I put it out of my mind.

Pipit had wanted to meet outside of the Lumpy Pumpkin, a popular restaurant in Central. It was a five minute walk from SkyCorp, and when I got there, he was standing with two plastic cups in his hands with dark orange liquid and ice in them.

"Mornin', Link," he said cheerily, handing me a cup.

"Good morning. I look forward to working with you."

"No need for the formalities. Anyway, try that, it's really good. Iced pumpkin spice latte, they were trying out something new before autumn starts." I took a sip, and tried not to smile. I never liked the bitterness coffee, but it was sweet and the cinnamon-like taste of the pumpkin spice was a good balance for the cold drink itself. "Alright, let's talk about this," Pipit said. He started walking down the street as the city began to wake up.
Pipit became the head homicide detective at SkyCorp when Horwell left. He was a great detective and usually worked alone, like me, and I was surprised he was okay with me working with him.

"The police wanted to use pseudonyms for the names of the family members, because they were pretty big in politics. They're the Oriola family. We're supposed to keep this quiet." I nodded and took a sip of my latte, and Pipit continued.

"Two Wednesdays ago, July sixteenth at approximately 7:34 PM, a neighbor said there was smoke coming out of one of the windows of the house and called the police to complain. Around 7:52, the police arrived, which is pretty slow if you ask me. They said that they burst in and they had to walk around a bit to find them, but they were in the basement. The whole family was laying on their stomachs, cuts on their backs, up in flames. The daughter wasn't, though. She was tied up in the corner, crying—oh, we're here."

I looked up and there stood something incredible.

Author's note: Whoa. Whoa. Whoa. Things escalated quickly. Hope you're liking it so far... I wanted to give a VERY special thank you to FrostStick, who wrote the very first review of Aphelion: a Case Study and was also the first follower! As I've said before, I take all kinds of feedback. This shindig is lacking the voices of the people.
I probably should have put this in the preview because it affects whether or not people read. So here are all the elements making this thing rated M, in an ugly little list:
-Sexual content (is that what I'm supposed to call it?)
-Sex with dubious consent
-Attempted rape
-Violence
-Ghirahim
-Whatever they call excessive cursing in movies
-Ghirahim
-More sexual content haha
-Bad jokes
-Ghirahim's comments
-Link being a tsundere

...You know, just things you don't want your kids to see, bad influences for children and old people. Stuff that makes me feel bad writing about but I write about anyway.

Definitely going to get some Ghirahim involved (but not next chapter. SOON). Alright, please continue to put up with my eccentricities for now~ thanks for reading! All kinds of feedback and hate mail welcome. New chapter tomorrow!