"You sure took your time," LInk grumbled when Ghirahim stepped through the door of his room an hour later. He had begun worrying that the demon had gotten lost, or worse, confronted by another Skyloftian. If it wasn't for Fi continuously reassuring him that he was in the bathroom the whole time, LInk would have set out to search for him, despite being dressed in his pajamas. And about to keel over from exhaustion.

"My good looks are not maintained without effort, LInk," Ghirahim insists. Then he flips his hair, splashing the hero in the face with tiny drops of water. .

Link grumbles in annoyance, wiping at his face with the corner of his blanket. "Did you reapply your makeup?" He asked in confusion when he realized that the purple eyeshadow and white lipstick looked exactly as it had been before the eternal shower.

"Makeup? Pah, you wound me! This? This flawless perfection you gaze upon is all natural~" The demon strikes a pose, then leans in to whisper conspiratorially. "Though, between you and me, I also found it strange when I first realized. But yes, this is simply what I look like. I don't know why."

Link would have questioned this further, but with all the chaos of the day, he just couldn't bring himself to care. He was practically dead on his feet. Sleep sounded like the greatest paradise.

Ghirahim must have felt the same way, because soon he was overcome by a massive yawn that gave the hylian a spectacular view of his tongue and teeth. The demon didn't have fangs as noticeable as in his metal form, but they were still there. But they were tiny. They wouldn't look out of place on a baby remlit.

Link yawns himself, and climbs into bed. It felt wonderful to be going to sleep in his own room again.

Ghirahim fumbles with the clasps on his cape. Link watches him from the corner of his eye. It was funny how much trouble he was having. Maybe it had something to do with the fact the hero had always seen Ghirahim removing his cape with magic, and so he wasn't used to taking it off manually.

"I am absolutely and utterly exhausted," Ghirahim says through another yawn. "It feels as if I have not slept in days."

Actually, LInk thinks, that might be true. Ghirahim seemed to be working constantly, growing increasingly more manic each time he encountered him. He originally thought it was just out of frustration, but maybe sleep deprivation had something to do with it. Did demons even need to sleep the way hylians did? Link was starting to realize he didn't actually know all that much about demons.

His thoughts were soon taken into another direction when he noticed that his new roommate (what an odd thought) was lying down on the floor. "Uh, what are you doing?"

Ghirahim looks just as confused as LInk feels. "I am going to sleep?"

"On the floor?"

Before his amnesia, Ghirahim seemed like the kind of person who wouldn't be caught dead sleeping anywhere but the most luxurious of beds. Now he was resigning himself to sleep on the ground without complaint. Maybe I'm dreaming, LInk thought, shaking his head. This whole thing has all been a dream and soon I'll wake up. Zelda will still need rescuing; I'll still have to fight Demise. I won't have the weirdest roommate on Earth.

"I do not mind," Ghirahim said. "I am so incredibly tired that even a bed of nails would be appealing at this point."

Link sighs, realizing that there aren't really any other options. "Okay. But the floor can get really cold at night."

"I will use my cape as a blanket."

"Hold on," LInk stretches wearily. He's not keen on getting out of bed so quickly after getting in, but he knows his conscience won't leave him alone until he does something to somewhat rectify this issue.

"You really didn't have to," the demon starts to say when he hands him a spare blanket and pillow he keeps around just in case. But he doesn't reject them, and soon seems quite a bit more comfortable. In fact, Ghirahim is sound asleep, and even snoring lightly, before LInk has returned to bed.

Despite his exhaustion, Ghirahim finds that he can still dream. His dreams are abstract and bizarre. Waltzing through a meadow made entirely of diamonds, LInk holding one of his hands, Zelda holding the other. Whenever they took a step, the crystalline vegetation would twinkle with odd, psychedelic reflections.

At first, Ghirahim found the experience to be blissful and enchanting. The diamond meadow, which he somehow knew was his own creation, glimmering with miraculous possibilities. He saw everything in the sparkling plant life from the familiar, LInk's crimson bird soaring through the clouds, to the mysterious but no less welcoming, a small blue-haired girl he didn't recognize. To the completely ridiculous, a bokoblin wearing a pink tutu and walking on a tightrope while playing a harmonica. All three of them had a good laugh about that one.

But then, the dream took a turn for the disturbing when the trio reached a clearing in the meadow, with a majestically tall tree in the center. As they approached it, Ghirahim began to get a feeling that something was off about this particular area, and that they should not be here.

He tried to voice this thought to his companions, but suddenly found he was incapable of speaking, or moving at all. Worst of all, that tiny gut feeling had grown into an intense feeling of dread, a sense of wrongness that suffocated him in its magnitude. Meanwhile, LInk and Zelda were just standing there and smiling, completely oblivious to the terrible thing that was no doubt about to happen.

Beyond his control, Ghirahim's head slowly rotated so that his eyes were locked on the tree. Within its silvery bark, was reflected an image of himself. His reflection smiled at him, but it was not a friendly smile. The expression absolutely oozed with malicious intent.

The two Ghirahims stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity and a few seconds simultaneously. Then, the reflection began to laugh. A quiet chuckle at first, but it soon escalated into a manic cackle that made Ghirahim's blood run cold.

It is alright, he attempted to reassure himself. It is a mere reflection; it can't hurt us.

But he was quickly proven wrong when the still laughing reflection raised a fist, a dark, metal fist, and started pounding the inside of the tree trunk repeatedly. The crystalline plant shuttered and groaned with every impact, and Ghirahim knew it was only a matter-of-time until the other him broke free, and then who knows what it would do?

At some point in all of this, his companions had released his hands, and ghirahim quickly reached to retake them. But they had both moved several paces away.

Zelda's face was twisted with shock and horror, and she gazed upon his hand as if it would bite. LInk was glaring daggers at him and had drawn his sword, looking as though he would slice Ghirahim to ribbons if he dared to make another move.

Ghirahim felt hurt and betrayed by this. Why were they acting this way? Did they not understand that it was the Ghirahim punching his way out of his tree prison at the moment who was the real enemy?

Speaking of which, the diamond tree was now cracked and splintered in multiple places. All it would take was one or two more good hits and he'd be free. Grinning with triumph, Ghirahim's malicious doppelgänger raised his fist to perform the final blow—but never got the chance to do so because the entire area was suddenly lit up by a flash of lightening and a roar of thunder. In the midst of the light, Ghirahim swore he saw a pair of eyes, so familiar yet new, glaring into his soul.