Link woke up to the sound of footsteps. He opened his eyes and saw four pairs of legs, then looked up and saw eight waists bearing weapons and four faces, emotionless efficiency in every aspect of their countenances. Four Sheikah had arrived. One of them, it seemed, from the way she looked Link over in recollection, was she who had interrogated Nabooru. Primly, she leaned down and picked up Nabooru's gun, inspecting it, almost admiring it. She attached it to her magnetic belt, next to her sword, which, when unsheathed, would hum with frightful scarlet heat to cauterize the wound as it was made. "You," she began, "have caused more than your fair share of trouble. The both of you. If I had my choice, I would have you incarcerated. But the principal insists," and she spat this with disdain, "that you are in need of psychological assistance and therefore I am to take you to Knight Asylum."

"What about a trial?" Nabooru demanded, her mouth barely moving.

The Sheikah looked down at her, saw the blood still leaking from her arm. "Let me take care of that," she said, drawing her sword, drawing its point carefully along her arm so that the wound was sealed. Nabooru let her head fall against the wall. Her entire body was soaked. "You could've bled to death." She glanced at Link piercingly again. He closed his eyes to escape the glare. Redemption was hopeless, he knew. He had ended his life for another's sake, he knew. And still, he hurt that person irreparably in the process. "Regarding a trial," the Sheikah said again, "the Hylian Matriarchy has determined that one is not necessary."

"The Matriarchy itself?" Link asked.

"Yes. They have personally contacted us."

"But why?"

"I'm not at liberty to tell."

Link's stomach swam. There was no way they could possibly be concerned with him, Link, who was so small, so insignificant. He turned to Nabooru. She appeared like he felt. She looked back at him with a glance that said, "I will never forgive you." The lights were so harsh, so white; they drove themselves, like spikes, into his brain. He moaned, a moan which turned into a harsh scream, pushing his palms deep into his eyes. Constellations danced before them.

"Come on," the Sheikah said. He felt firm hands grasp him by the underarms, pull him to his shaky feet. They had to hold him up, for if they let go he would have fallen face-first on the floor. The constellations disappeared to reveal white tile, speckled with black, swimming across his vision as he was dragged out of the bathroom and into sunlight.

He and Nabooru both were put into a rubber room, the same one. Link couldn't imagine why. "Matriarchy's orders," the Sheikah told him.

"What's your name?" Nabooru asked, seemingly out of the blue.

"Impa," she replied coldly, leaving through the door. Everything was white. Link was sick of the garish whiteness. He almost longed for the dark interior of the Gerudo Marauders' ship, with its narrow corridors and steamy air. Its dirty copper-colored walls, its heat.

"I'm sorry. I'm truly sorry," Link tried, his voice a weak whisper.

She turned away from him, hiding her face. "I hate you," she said. "You sent her to remind me."

"Sent who?"

"You know who." She was bitter, every word a fierce attack against him. "Fi. How did you know?"

"I didn't know anything, I swear."

"And what a terrible way to exact revenge. What a vile beast you are." She slammed her fist against the wall, its softness unsatisfying. She hit it again.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Is it still there?" she asked. Link remained silent. She was speaking cryptically, and he had a feeling she was doing so on purpose. But why? She asked again. "Is the scar still there?" The silence continued. She crawled over to where Link was, still too weak to walk, and lifted a lock of his hair.

"What are you doing?"

Carefully, she stroked a thin line of soft, white tissue on the side of Link's neck, studying it intently. Suddenly, Link understood. "That was you?" She nodded. "My God. I can't believe that was you." She crawled back to the other side of the room. "That...that was you."

She looked wistfully toward the door. "That was my father's ship. But it was really Hynii's. Hynii took charge of the Gerudo when he refused to support them in their piracy."

"And where," Link asked, intrigued, "did you stand on all this?" He was intrigued, but he realized too late she thought this was meant as an attack. She turned her face away and stared at the wall. No wonder she had been hostile with him. Reasons he never could have known. What did she think when he approached her that day in history class and she, to his utmost surprise now, accepted the partnership of him and Zelda? Did she perceive that he did not recognize her? When did she start to think he was acting, in his kindness, out of evil intent?

It made so much sense. Nabooru was afraid of him. Afraid that he would reveal her past. But what was her connection to Fi? "Nabooru?" Link asked.

"Yes?"

"I meant no offense when I asked what you thought of-"

"I was against it."

"Then why did you cooperate?"

"Hynii..."

Link didn't want to push her. He sat patiently as she collected her words.

"Hynii made me do it."

Link knew that nobody could make another do anything. But to be surrounded by people of such perspectives, taught that their ways were right, pushed to cross boundaries one was only beginning to doubt were wrong; Link couldn't blame her.

"I wasn't twelve when we abandoned our ship."

"I'd figured."

"But that's what I told Impa. That I was twelve. I was sixteen. Am sixteen. I didn't want to say..."

"You thought that would make you even more suspect."

"Yeah. And Adele Nakame is not my biological mother. I never knew who my actual mother was."

"But your father is married to Adele."

"Yes."

Link pressed his fingers to his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall. "I don't mean to put you through another interrogation," he said. "It's just that after all that's happened, I just want to know. I just want to know, you must understand."

"I do understand. And you will know." She got up, stood on her feet. She had strength now. She was strong again. She sat by Link, and he was not afraid, nor was she afraid of him. "Just promise me this: you'll forgive me, in time."

He smiled. "Only if you'll forgive me."