Wouldn't have been able to push this out if it weren't for NothingFancy, thanks for helping and supporting me!

In this chapter, we learn how not to infiltrate a company, among other things.

FOUR- FEAR

Recommendation: We Have It All by Pim Stones

Lon Lon Industries, the empire of pharmaceutical medicine in the country of Hyrule. The one and only medical industry to successfully take over Hyrule by storm since the late 80's. It was likely one of the oldest, most outstanding companies founded in the Lanayru prefecture. Many a Hyrulean had said it was because of its foundation, made up of a wealthy, influential family with a knack for progression and philanthropy. A company that strived to help the world with advancement in never before seen medicine and equipment. Their mission statement: that no Hyrulian would die before their natural time. Yet Lanayru Spotlight's journalist, Revali Rito, knew better.

The popular medical industry, along with its show of philanthropy, was just a front for the renowned Dragmire family's business. At least, that's what he'd tried to get his boss back at the news station to understand. But like his boss said, you couldn't have news without the proper seasoning-hardcore facts-to draw in the audience. His past few scoops hadn't been even close to interesting. In fact, they'd probably helped in lowering the station's viewer ratings, but this one, this one was going to be the one that got him noticed as well as put the station back on the map. Hell, maybe even promoted... if he played his cards right.

At least that's what he kept telling himself as he got closer and closer to the obsidian tower near the heart of Lanayru's prefecture. The skyscraper was the tallest building in Lanayru, a behemoth that cast neighboring buildings in its shadow. He'd lingered across the street, absently pulling on the edges of his blue knit scarf as he peered up onto the large sign, accented with red lights.

Lon Lon Industries, accompanied by smaller letters bathed in a dimmer hue of red, Where futures are made. The motto always sounded tacky to him, but now as he stared at the sign in person as it flickered and bathed the street ahead in an eerie glow of crimson, it sounded too picturesque. Way too forced, like the company was trying too hard to keep up with their fake smiles and empty promises.

The pedestrian light buzzed, adding a shimmer of white to the red overlay, and he hurriedly crossed the street. His camera bag bounced against his hip, partially hidden underneath his long coat, until he was standing on the sidewalk right before the tower's glass facade. His reflection glared back at him, accented by the imposing sign overhead. It made the tips of his wavy black hair appear as if they were glowing a sickeningly dark violet. Again, he craned his neck to give the sign above one last look before adjusting his scarf and heading for the large, revolving doors.

Lon Lon Industries had its name on a number of hospitals and doctors' offices across the country, but none of them could compare to the size of Lon Lon's official building. The lobby was massive, a spacious room adorned with a sleek, modern touch. Solid blacks, warm reds and blues, and crisp grays washed the lobby in an air of formality, complimenting the large, rounded water fountain at the center with the dark contrasts. Like with the sign, Revali had to crane his neck to see the other floors that ringed the lobby. Each floor that was visible went only half as high as the building itself, while the glass elevators that sought refuge on either side of the building disappeared behind a slab of wall after what Revali had counted to be the thirty-second floor.

The elevators as well as the stairwells that neighbor them, five each, were blocked off by a short line of turnstiles. Turnstiles of which were on constant watch from the cameras scattered about the lobby as well as the glass cubicles on either side, both of which housed a handful of what looked to be armed guards.

Revali breathed in, tasting the hint of antiseptic, before he breathed out any reconsideration to his wild scheme. Sure, he'd never pulled something as big as this off before, but he'd chalk it off to the day when he broke into one of Lanayru's notorious commissioner buildings. That in itself had been a feat at the time, just to get his hands on a key card, but the security there had been a cake walk, key card or not. Well, and it hadn't been extremely life threatening as this venture would be.

Corrupted politicians who took bribes were one thing, but a potential underground drug ring? He took in another long breath, holding it in for a few seconds, and let it out as he reached for the plastic card in one of his coat pockets. The key card was cold to the touch, but it helped in grounding him as he walked up to the turnstiles with as much confidence as he could muster. Especially with the way he probably looked, dressed in a large scarf and a baggy long coat with one side of his body likely looking a little too chunky thanks to the camera bag.

It's why he tried to nonchalantly angle his body, re-situating the camera bag to the front of his chest with each step. Thankfully it didn't seem to matter though. The guards that inhabited the glass cubicles weren't paying him any attention as his boots edged up to the turnstiles' threshold. With a single swipe of the key card, a light on the turnstile in front of him flashed green and sounded off with a subtle click. He pushed against it and with a fire in his step, crossed the slip of glossy, gray linoleum, to one of the glass elevators that aligned the walls.

There was a forming line of Lon Lon's employees already at the foot of the elevator, but as soon as Revali had crossed the lobby to them, one of the elevator doors had opened. The line flooded in, fifty or so employees clad in thick sweaters and three piece suits, and he went along with them just before the glass doors slid closed.

Never in his life had he felt so out of place until this very moment, crammed into a small elevator with a bunch of suits and sweaters that looked like they'd cost two of his paychecks. Yet no one gave him any mind. A blessing, but he didn't want to take any chances. Revali pressed himself up against one of the glass walls in an attempt to make himself as small as possible or one with the surroundings. Whether it helped his chances was beyond him as soon as the elevator reached the second floor. The doors slid open, and he fell backward with a surprised yelp. Fifty pairs of eyes turned on him then. It wasn't every day they saw someone literally fall out of the elevator, that and the yelp had been jarring in such a small space. Of course, Revali didn't see it like that. No, his thoughts fell into a cesspool of paranoia as he quickly righted himself and hightailed it to the next elevator just as soon as the one he'd been in closed.

He wasn't in favor of the gods though as a third of the people on the elevator filed out just before the glass doors brushed close. Most of them went their separate ways while others strayed by the elevators, except for one bespectacled man who had closed in on him as soon as he'd reached for the next elevator's call button.

"You okay, sir?"

Revali jumped at the sudden attention, "Y-Yeah," a shaky laugh, "never better. Just-trying to get around, I'm-uh-"

"Oh, first day?"

"Yeah! I mean, well… yeah." He wanted to smack himself with the way he likely sounded, riddled with uncertainty and unnecessary hesitancy.

"What department are you in?"

He met the man's bespectacled gaze for a moment. The question caught him for a loop, but then he remembered the key card. If his usual go-to forger had been right, then all key cards from Lon Lon had the RFID chip as well as the department names and identification numbers on them. He better be right, charged me double for the stupid thing. "Here?" He dangled the key card between them.

The man, a head shorter than he with a head of raven colored hair that reeked of pomade even at arms length, stared at it for the breadth of a moment. His wire-framed glasses were readjusted with a quiet, habitual gesture before he returned Revali's gaze. "IT. You're a mountain away from the office, Mr. IT. Your department is on the forty-first floor."

Revali smiled sheepishly, "Really? I could've sworn they'd—"

"Not to worry, here if you," said the bespectacled man as he reached for the adjacent elevator's call button, "just go up to the forty-first floor then it'll be the fifth door on the right. It'll be the one with 'IT' written above the door so you can't miss it."

They parted with a nod, and before the man could conjure up any other questions or small talk, Revali legged it to the next elevator that opened its doors. From there he followed the man's instructions because honestly, he wasn't sure where to start his investigative journalism. A bad move on his part, but IT sounded promising. Maybe from there he could figure out where to go next?

The backdrop was engulfed in Lanayru's cityscape, and it stretched as far as the horizon. Its glow and bustle of activity basked the office in hues of gray. An unsettling accent that contrasted blindly with the cases' bulbs containing artifacts that took refuge in small spaces against the walls. Of course, nothing could ever compare to the individual that sat at the black toned desk. The cityscape spread out behind him like a cape, and its light painted him in a silhouette. His presence alone was unsettling, but the image he portrayed, whether it be because of his position, his history, or the symbolic likeness to his desk being that of a throne, placed atop Lon Lon Industries, was even more so.

However, Ghirahim had seen it all before and he'd come into the office, to alleyways, and warehouses alongside the intimidating man before him too many times to count. He didn't quite feel as unsettled as his companion did. Unless the shifty eyes and fidgeting was some wild act at an attempt for sympathy.

"I want Amanda's evaluation on the science wing's discovery of Pitch by tomorrow." Ghirahim's eyes flickered to the man that stood at the desk, hands folded neatly atop one another over the lid of the docked laptop. "No more excuses, no more delays." The tone was solid, formal, and it held enough power to move mountains. Ghirahim had to shake his head to rid himself of his worship as the man beside him nodded adamantly, his voice coming forth in a tremble,

"Yes, we'll try-"

"Don't try, just do it." Their boss lowered his chin, the action seeming to add a bestial intensity to the man's molten gaze.

"Yes-yes, Mr. Dragmire, sir." The nervous man sputtered, and Ghirahim had to hold back a devilish smirk of humor. Another adamant nod, and their boss flicked his eyes to the door behind them. Ghirahim's companion took to the dismissal eagerly and left no room for any addendums to his order as he all but ran out of the office.

Only at the close of the door did the second employee let loose his laughter. A melodic sound that, as usual, prompted a grin to split across his boss's face. "No matter how many times I hear it, I will never get tired of hearing that, 'Mr. Dragmire, sir.'" He accented the phrasing with his hands, waving them before his face.

The large man, the epitome of strength and power, nodded. Despite the smile that had blossomed across his face, an unsettling sight against the pair of molten amber eyes, he did not share in his employee's laughter. "Yes, it has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?" He settled his hands over the desk and let his grin simmer down into a scowl. The change in expression did little to deter the white-haired man's smile. Granted, most things only heightened his bodyguard's glee. "Now, it's your turn to enlighten me, Ghirahim. What news have you from the hospitals in the Faron and Termina provinces?"

Always straight to the point, always business. How un-fun. The lanky man pushed his lip out in a mock pout, but brought his right hand up to examine his fingernails as he recited his current findings,

"Nabooru, in Termina, is lacking the funds to update their equipment. A claim that I find rather amusing considering the fact that you slipped them a good sum of money in the beginning of the year. I believe they think you favor them, to such a degree that they are becoming a bit too bold for their own good. Valoo, on the other hand, used your financial aid to hire more staff and offer more educational opportunities for their employees. Your investment was definitely a philanthropic one, hmm? I can get Vaati and Milly to contact the news channels about it, if you're up for that much exposure right now."

"The head of Nabooru has been a thorn in my side as of late… interesting how he thinks his ship will be able to sail freely across my waters. See to it that it sinks, sail cloth and all. As for the news, don't bother. Financial aid to the hospitals that partner with Lon Lon is nothing new. What about the death?"

Ghirahim's smile evolved even further, flashing his teeth, "a sad one, wasn't it? It's rumored that she overdosed from a new opioid, one that contained remnants of a drug found in Krokodil. I'm sure we'll see another, similar, case about it soon." His words were spoken carefully, a light brush over the true answer.

Runa Lara had been found, and Lon Lon Industries was never once mentioned or thought of during the investigation. An investigation of which had been closed as soon as the police labelled it as an overdose. "I wonder who could be her dealer?" He added innocently, tilting his head as his eyes nearly glowed at the insinuation.

"Which police department oversaw sought the investigation?"

"Faron City Police. Thinking it could be a corrupted copper? Now wouldn't that be fun?" To anyone else, Ghirahim's excitement would have come across as appalling, but it only introduced another one of his boss's grins.

"Anything is possible." The boss of Lon Lon Industries rolled his shoulders, "people will need some closure, eventually," he added.

Ghirahim nodded, and if he'd anything to add, it was swallowed by Dragmire's next words.

"I want results." The rate at which his boss switched moods seemed to be the only thing to sober him up. His smile from before crumbled, overtaken by an eerie seriousness. "This, this hell, has gone on long enough. Time's been wasted for far too long. If we don't get results within the next few days, it'll be you at the other end of the gun."

"I love it when you get all threatening, but how can we get the results that you seek? We can't just post 'help wanted' signs all over the place, and if too many from the street end up dead by a mysterious and deadly opioid… well, it won't end well. Sure, overdoses are a frequent problem, but this particular opioid isn't your average drug. Someone is bound to catch on and suspect it's more than just a little back alley drug."

His words, although true, were clearly not what his boss had wanted to hear. At least, if the look of death burning in his eyes had anything to say. "Test my patience, and I'll do more than just pull the trigger on your worthless head. Just get it done."

Such menace, but death glares and threats never went far with Ghirahim though. He'd been with the man, Ganon, for far too long now. The threats were certainly laced with promise, but as always, there was a fine line of understanding between them. There wasn't a need to threaten Ghirahim because the man would do whatever Ganon asked of him, without question. It's why he only grinned in return, why he bowed his head in silence, and turned on his heel to take his leave.

Only when the office's door closed at his back did he finally let loose a self-restrained giggle. Especially when he thought how it would have been delicious to have departed with a, "yes, Mr. Dragmire, sir." That likely would have only riled the man up even further, and although such a thing was indeed a wondrous past-time, it often ended up as a bore. The man was definitely the epitome of power, both good and bad, but he got riled up so easily that it often grew boring to default to teasing antics.

He'd only pulled away from the door, dress shoes clicking on the linoleum floors, when the obnoxious ring of his cellphone rattled throughout the short hall. There was a sigh and then he was pulling the cell phone from an inner pocket of his suit. A piece of clothing that he would honestly kill to get out of, but the boss had designated it to be his work attire. Apparently three piece suits screamed formal intimidation these days.

"Ghirahim." There was an edge to his voice, something that the caller on the other end quickly caught onto if their bit of responding silence had anything to say about it.

He stopped by the edge of the L-shaped corridor where it turned into the single, glass elevator. It was then that the speaker finally said, "we appear to have a rat in our midst." The words shouldn't have elicited an exciting shudder up his spine, but it did. Sure, a nosy little rat meant a potential risk for the company's underground business, but… it wasn't every day when he got a call that promised some fun. Nevertheless, they'd had false alarms before, many of which ended him up on the bad side of Dragmire.

"How are you so sure? And have you told him?"

"You instructed that all intrusions be reported to you before anyone else, even before the boss, chief." True. He was Lon Lon's Chief of Security after all. A fitting title, even though it was a little far-fetched to the business that he actually did. "It took a little longer than it should've, the systems triggered after the intrusion, but the intruder's badge depicts information from a non-existing employee. A Joshua Farris in the Information Technologies department, such a person doesn't exist in the employee database since 2012."

This definitely wouldn't be the first time when the systems fired an alert because of someone with what they believed was a fancy and successfully forged identification card. Why have a turnstile at the front doors letting people in just by using a simple RFID chip? Who, in their right mind, wouldn't run the data programmed onto the card itself against existing information? Still, it always did make it all that more exciting because that meant he'd have his hands full with both the intruder and their forger. If there were two entities at play that is.

"Do we know where they are?" He'd made it to the elevator then, catching his own grin in the reflective glass before him. The speaker passed along the information, their little rat having last been spotted waltzing into IT's office. Of all the places to check out first, going to IT's hole-in-the-wall was a bit of a stretch. Surely this intruder wasn't here to just check the facility's server specs… "I'll pay them a visit. No need to report this to Dragmire, he has a lot on his plate as is. That and I don't think his blood pressure right now can handle such trifling news." There was a grunt of acknowledgement before the line went dead.

Lon Lon Industries was definitely a big company, but Revali did not expect the company to be backed by such a small IT office. The office was small, much smaller than he would've imagined, and it was inhabited by only four cubicles that were right up against each other. Cubicles of which were partly hidden by a wall of dilapidated towers, clunky monitors, and boxes. There was a single server rack shoved in the corner, but it looked to only be giving shelter to a single server and a sideways tower. Accompanied by a tall fern that looked like it hadn't seen sunlight in days. Unsurprising since he didn't see any signs of windows on the walls, just posters reminding workers about the penalties of sexual harassment, stealing, and how "lose lips sink ships."

He passed the threshold and was immediately greeted with the thick smell of coffee and a rush of bone-chilling cold. It was more than just an absent action to pull at his scarf then as the four heads glued to their monitors all turned in unison to eye him. A beat of silence, followed by a faint whir from the server in the back corner, was the next greeting Revali received as he quickly chewed on just what on Hyrule he was going to say.

Maybe he should have planned this better? Yes, but here he was. No way he was just going to call it quits here and bounce with his tail between his legs. So far so good, just take a breath, and act like you own your shit.

"If you're here for a laptop then you're S.O.L., bud. You should'a come fifteen minutes ago." A long ginger-haired man in the cubicle farthest from him said in the most monotonous tone Revali had ever been privy to.

"O-Oh…" real smooth.

"We ordered about fifty more. They'll be here in the next few days so just watch out for an email." Instructed another, a black-haired woman with a nasally voice. She'd actually risen from her seat, the desk chair squealing as she pushed it back, and met him with vibrant, violet eyes. "Unless you're here for a cell phone then you're in luck. It wouldn't kill you to actually use our calendar though, y'know. Yuga worked hard on that widget, it helps keep us all on track." The half-wall and the small tower of computer hardware weren't tall enough to hide the black haired woman's thin waist or the hands that she drew to rest on pointed hips.

"I did work hard on that, didn't I? So much so that I'd say it's my best work yet, maybe even close to being perfect." The ginger from moments before piped up again as he too rose from his desk chair. It didn't make quite as much noise as the woman's as it rolled back. "So yeah, if you're here for a cell phone I'll not hesitate to knock you into next week." Revali watched as the gingered man moved away from the desks, toward him. It was only when the man stood before him that Revali took note to the man's height. That and the red hair was longer than he'd originally thought, having reached the middle of the man's back. "So what can we help you with?"

He took another look around the room before he met the man's-Yuga's-gaze. Honestly, the IT office was far from the place he needed to be. It was clear that he wouldn't get any good information here, especially since they only presented one server. Then again, even if the office walls were aligned with servers upon servers, it would do him no good. He wasn't a whiz on computers so hacking was completely out of the question. So then that left him with his only option…

"Sorry, I was here in hopes to get my hands on a laptop. I was told to come up here for one, but I'll make sure to use the calendar widget next time." He waved a hand sheepishly and quickly turned toward the exit.

But then, "what's your name then? I'll put it down on our list otherwise, if you forget again, it may be a while till you can actually grab a new laptop."

Would it be too weird if he pulled out his badge again? Yes, yes it would. "Revali Rito." That was just as bad, giving his real name, but by the sound of it, his name would be lost amidst all the other employee names.

"Which department?"

Now he definitely couldn't say IT. They would surely find that odd, wouldn't they? Especially when there was no vacant cubicle, let alone room for a fifth desk or even a television tray. Medical then? "I'm in-"

"Ah, there you are, Mr. Rito." Revali spun back to the door, the way the newcomer spoke sent unpleasant chills down his back. Yet nothing compared to the fear that pooled in his gut when he locked eyes with two pits that could only be described as an endless abyss.

The man that stood just before the office threshold had his shoulder against the door frame, a twisted grin curled about snowy lips. An expression that must have been fresh if the slight twinkle of the large, dangling diamond-shaped earrings had anything to say about it. His eyes were a bloodcurdling contrast to the white of his skin, even his hair, and it's all Revali could find himself focusing on as the newcomer continued talking. "He's in the security department."

"Oh, hello Mr. Ghira. Why didn't you say so sooner, Revali? Security, along with the med teams, get first dibs on laptops and phones. Weird though, you should have gotten one reserved then unless-"

"He's relatively new, hired just last month."

Revali felt the grip of death along his skin, a coldness that made the weight of this newcomer's words all the more alarming. The cover was complete goat shit, and they both knew it.

I need to get out of here.

His thoughts must have betrayed him, painted his sudden urge to flee all over his face with flashing neon lights, because the ghostly man straightened away from the door frame and crossed the threshold. There was no opening as the distance between them was cut within the breadth of a second. Within the blink of an eye, or so it felt to him, the newcomer's hand latched onto his shoulder and pulled him forward.

Revali found himself turned around, both shoulders anchored down by deathly white hands. He was propelled to face Yuga and the rest of the IT office again. "But not to worry, he was issued last year's back up laptop just last week. He'll live another week or so without one." The grip on his shoulders tightened with each passing word. It forced an involuntary flinch from him, but Yuga had already turned back to the cubicles, missing it as well as the very expressive fear that surely coated his features. "Sorry about all that, I should've had him check out that widget of yours. Now, if you'll excuse us, I'll need to take him back and see if his duty belt came in finally."

"No worries. Thanks for visiting." Replied the black haired woman as she too turned her attention away, completely missing Revali's evolving panic as their chief of security hauled him out the door.

His sneakers caught onto the lip of the threshold, but Ghirahim only added more pressure and pulled him into the hall. There wasn't a moment of reprieve as he was propelled through the hall and shoved promptly into the stairwell adjacent to the line of elevators. Unlike the elevators themselves, the stairwell was even smaller, so when he was shoved inside he smacked into the wall across the door.

The sound of the stairwell door closing was deafening. So much so that it urged him to move and get the hell out of there. Yet when he turned, aiming for either the stairs or the door, the white-skinned man was a step ahead of him.

A reverberating crack of the back of his skull meeting concrete was the only warning he got before a hand pushed right up against his collar bone. The grip wasn't necessarily constraining, but the amount of pressure was something that he recognized as a warning. An amount of which he'd initially never expected to come from the deathly pale man. Sure, he looked average in size, but the force that pushed against his chest didn't add up to the man before him of which lacked the proper musculature.

His eyes sunk into pits of bubbling coal and a wintry twist of iced lips. "Humor me, hm? What are you hoping to achieve by sneaking in here? Trade secrets, gossip, blackmail?" Like in the IT office, with each passing word Revali felt the hand at his chest push against him even more. Fraction by fraction until it became hard to breathe comfortably let alone easily. "And which is your real name, Revali Rito or Joshua Farris?"

The weight against his chest didn't ease up. Even when his hands scrambled to wrap around a thin wrist, the pressure didn't ease in the slightest. It only increased the burning fear in his gut and made that grin that kept growing on the man's face all the more fearsome.

Should he… tell the truth? No, that would be risky. If the rumors were true, which he suspected they were because what kind of greeting was this, then it was definitely the riskiest option. But then, what other options did he have?

"I'm waiting." The cheeriness in his offender's tone was worrisome, just as the increasing pressure against his collarbone was.

Lie. You should lie. Surely nothing will happen. Besides, if something were to happen, his boss knew where he was. That and so did the other journalists. "Joshua Farris. I-"

"Then why did you pass Revali Rito as your name?"

"It was a pre-"

"Precaution. Hm, I suppose that makes sense. After all, your ID's department would've been a dead giveaway to your little antics. We have no need for new hires in IT. Now," his wild grin simmered into a thin line, "what are you hoping to achieve by sneaking in here?"

Think. Think. Think. "I just wanted to get an inside look of Lon Lon."

"We have tours for that, dear Joshua."

"R-right, but I wanted to see the areas that the tour doesn't…" the shadows that fell across Ghirahim's face had the hairs on the back of Revali's neck stand on end.

"I can show you those places, if you'd like." The pressure was relinquished, but the eerie look that had taken its place on the man's features hadn't subsided. "All you had to do was ask."

Revali couldn't help but rub at the place where Ghirahim had pressed against him. That part of his chest was tender and burning, but nothing was quite as painful or attention catching as the fear that kept piling up within him. "No, no, that's all right. I realize I should've-instead of doing this-I should've just requested it. I can leave. I'll just-" but the offending man didn't move. If anything, he came right up to Revali until they were but a mere inch or two apart.

"Lon Lon Industries is known for its philanthropy and hospitality. I can't possibly let you go after having treated you so roughly. My apologies. Now come, let's take a tour of where curious minds such as yours are not allowed."

"No, honest, it's all right. I'll just leave. Come back another day." Revali pushed against Ghirahim's shoulders, but the man was akin to a brick wall. Immovable, intimidating, a damn dead end.

"Surely a journalist such as yourself would die for such a chance, such a scoop?"

He's fishing. But Revali didn't have to answer. No, his damn face answered for him, if he had anything to go by the brief pass of acknowledgement on Ghirahim's face.

In Malon's opinion, the small apartment's bathroom had just about the same amount of space as a hand basket. Old, faded green, painted the four walls, neither complimenting nor conflicting with the white porcelain sink directly across from the off-white toilet. A sink of which was only a step away from the toilet. Then there was the shower, a yellowed bathtub and shower head combination shoved up against the far wall. The lip of the bathtub was almost close enough to touch the side of the toilet bowl.

It's small, but it doesn't stop Link from sitting on the toilet's lid while Malon clung to the sink. He tucked his feet into the bathtub, giving Malon more space as she opened her mouth wide before applying mascara to her bottom lashes. Link had once asked her "why," why did she always insist on screwing her face up while applying makeup? Did it help the makeup stick better or…? Of course, he'd never gotten a reply.

"Are you sure? I can always call in." Malon said. She slipped the wand back into the container once more before meeting Link's gaze through the sink mirror. Apparently his nightmare last night had spooked her, worried her to the point of considering staying home with him. It was thoughtful, yes, but she'd already asked the same thing again and again… and again. And each time he'd reply with, "I'd more than love if you could stay, but you know we can't afford that."

"I can call in sick."

"But then you'll feel guilty for lying."

"I can take a vacation then."

"Your supervisor would kill you if you requested one last minute like this."

She stared at him through the mirror, a scowl threatening to take place as her gaze narrowed. "Stop trying to talk me out of everything."

"I will if you'd only stop making anthills into molehills."

"Dammit! Stop making molehills into anthills. Last night I was woken up by you screaming, Link, and then you didn't sleep a wink after that. You refuse to go to Valoo for help, you don't talk to me about what's bothering you, I don't know what to do! You're always telling me not to worry, but that just makes me worry even more! You don't sleep. You barely eat. I know your nightmares are getting worse, and I know your lack of sleep has been affecting you! You-"

"Malon, please sto-"

"-almost got run over by a truck because you were zoning out."

Dammit, Pipit.

It drives him to stand up, quickly limiting the available space in the bathroom. Before she can either turn around to swat him or stop him, his arms coil around her waist before he pulls her in until their chest to back. Malon stiffened at first, but once he'd tucked his face into her neck, she relaxed.

This show of affection was not as common as she'd liked. Just like the time that they spent together. It's why, at that moment, she felt a dreaded wave of concern rush over her. It made her shudder and urged Link to wrap his arms tighter around her, banding her abdomen. Despite the rarity of their time and affection, despite loving every little moment that they were able to share together, she knew Link's sly tactics.

On any other given day, she would have smacked him for trying to calm her or distract her, but then he released the heaviest exhale against her skin. He leaned into her then, almost pushing her against the sink counter.

"I know."

Goose flesh brushed over her skin at the soft admittance. He'd whispered it, a strained and exhausted vulnerability. One that gave light to so much weighted turmoil. It made the gentle weight of his hand on her shoulder feel as if it weighed twenty pounds heavier.

"But it's all right, I'm okay. It's just work."

Such a bad liar. But what else could be said? He was trying to soften the sharpness of her concern. Trying to ease her frustration as well as blanket the issue with flimsy tissue paper. At least he was admitting the issues at hand, even the severity that they introduced. "Please get help. Even if it's from a psychiatrist." She'd requested it before, and at that time, he'd stormed out of the apartment in anger. Maybe even out of guilt. Because apparently having someone who liked you enough to put up with you couldn't incessantly worry over you.

Well, that wasn't quite right. Malon was being unfair, but then again, so was he. "I know seeking out help feels wrong to you. You've always been the courageous, confident one… always wanting to protect. You don't like feeling vulnerable, I get it. But there's nothing wrong in needing help every now and then. You may be my hero-"

My hero . . .

"-and all but you're also hu-" Malon stumbled over her words as Link's arms snaked even tighter around her. Had she said something wrong? Her hands found his arms, hoping to ease the sudden pressure that constricted her waist. He didn't budge though. Imitating the perfect brick wall against her back. "Link, please stop that. Either relax your arms or let go." Her nails dug into his arms, and when he didn't appear to ease the pressure, she dug her nails deeper until she'd temporarily branded his skin with crescent-shaped indents.

"Don't call me that, please." Malon flinched at his voice. It sounded more worn out than before and… fearful... was he scared?

Drawn to the change in his tone and the strange behavior, she tried to turn in his grip. Her movement was obliged, his arms finally easing around her, and she turned until they were chest to chest. As his hands found refuge on her back, hers drew up to his temples. Her fingers brushed up against soft, blond hair, and he leaned into her touch.

"Don't call you what? What's wrong?"

"I don't think-I'm not…" he sighed again, eyes closed. "Hero." He spoke the single word as if it had been a vulgar insult.

You're my Hero, always.

"Please." Link added. He opened his eyes then and she almost got lost in the two blue pools that met her head on. Except she'd noticed that their usual tender glow was absent. His eyes were always filled with so much emotion, but now they were a sleeping sea before a storm.

"Link, why? You're strong, capable, courageous. You're always there when I need you. You're a perfect h-"

"I'm n-I just… just respect my wishes."

"I will if you seek out help or confide in someone."

Link dropped his arms back to his side and retreated at her request. Her hands hovered in the empty air for a second before reaching out to him again. This time her palms brushed against his neck. With the gentlest of nudges, she urged him to lean forward until his lips met hers. It was a peck, brief and tender. A silent conveyance of love, acceptance, and when she'd drawn back from him to end the short kiss, he'd pulled her back in.

The kiss turned into the ghostly pains of drowning. A tinge of desperation, impending quiet yet loud at the same time. Her back pressed against the sink counter, but before it could become even remotely uncomfortable, Malon was lifted until she was perched on the lip of the sink. It was then that her fingers intertwined with the golden strands at the back of Link's head. Drowning in the kiss until her lungs throbbed.

Tugging the strands between her fingers, she pulled Link back. He obliged, but still took over her vision, crowding her senses. His close proximity was evident as he pressed his forehead against her own; kept his hands tangled in her hair, fingers flexing. Like her, his lungs were robbed of air, and when he took in gulping breaths, he released the surrendering air against her lips.

Again his eyes were closed, a furrow of his brows dredging up another wave of worry through her. The affection alone, though something she often craved, was worrisome. "Link-" his fingers that feathered in her soft hair stopped, "are you okay?"

His eyes opened again, and she sighed with relief when she saw the usual glow resting just behind the blues in his eyes. Nevertheless, the sigh caught in her throat as she watched the faint curve on his lips form like paint over porcelain.

No, I'm not.

"I'm okay."