in honour of the amazing applyfic written by iMeowmeow654, i have decided to write this little one shot. it's an alternate ending, one in which Johd is the injured one, and Link the one who must make a decision. this isn't because i wish the story had ended differently, but because it is easier for me to write in the perspective of my own character and i do not wish to misrepresent Link. if you are not a part of the group of users who participate in the same applyfic as i do and have not read arrow, then i recommend that you do so before reading this. don't forget to vote for meowie's work!

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Johd was dreading the next stop. Already exhausted from the completed part of the victory tour, the prospect of the next district made the lump in Johd's throat ache and caused his stomach to knot unpleasantly.

The next district was Link's district.

The next family to stare him down with stony eyes and sorrowful hearts would be Link's.

Johd ran a hand over his jaw. A rough stubble had formed there, giving him a ragged, hollow look. The stylists had tried to shave him upon his return the capital after Link's death. He'd shoved them away, threatening to gut them with his very fingers if they ever brought anything sharp remotely near his neck ever again. He'd tried to shave himself before the very first stop on the victory tour, but seeing his hand raise the blade to his throat in the mirror reminded him of Link's last moments, and he'd smashed the mirror in a fit of pique.

Green eyes stared back at him as he regarded his appearance in a mirror. His hair was unruly, the messy curls that were usually carefully ruffled now hanging sadly around his face. His cheeks, never plump to begin with, were pinched and sunken, pronouncing his cheekbones. His clothes, a simple black sweatshirt and blue jeans, hung loosely on his slumped frame.

To put it simply, he looked a mess.

He lifted a trembling hand - they always trembled now, ever since that terrible moment in the arena - and placed on his cheek, tangling his fingers in his hair, and closed his eyes. He allowed himself to imagine that it was really actually Link whose hand rested on his face, whose touch warmed the cold skin underneath. Link, who would be standing so close, so close that if Johd opened his eyes he would look straight into Link's.

But what colour were Link's eyes?

What colour were they?

What colour?

Panic seized Johd, pouring thickly into his lungs and his stomach as he tried desperately to remember the detail. His hands gripped the edges of the basin before him, the cool porcelain only further chilling his fingers.

What colour were his eyes?

How long was his hair?

How tall was he? How old?

How many sisters did he have?

What weapon did he use?

Did someone kill him?

Did I kill him?

Was I important to Link? Were we important to each other?

When did he die? Is he still alive? What district is he from?

Were the games real?

Was Link real?

Am... I... real?

Who am I?

Who is Link?

I've got to find Link.

I need Link.

Need to be with Link.

Where is Link?

Need to be with Link.

How did I get here?

Need Link.

What's my name?

Need Link.

Is that me in the mirror?

Need Link.

Need my knife.

Need to be with Link.

Knife will get me to Link.

Need to get to Link.

Link will make things better.

Need -

Link.

~~~~~~~

"Joooohhd!"

Saffron knocked on the bathroom door with a frown on her face. Her petite body shook from the force she was delivering upon the door.

"Johd, we were supposed to be at the entrance ten minutes ago. We're really late, dad's gonna get mad," she pleaded with the wooden door.

No reply forthcoming, Saffron pushed the sliding door open and stepped in.

"Johd, come on-"

~~~~~~~

Saffron looked up at her father.

"He was smiling."

"Excuse me?"

Saffron shrugged and looked away, leaning into her father's embrace.

"Even though he had that... that razor in his heart, he was smiling Da. As if... he was seeing someone he loved."

Her father hugged her tighter.

"Johd was smiling," she whispered.

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don't kill me pls