The house is empty, only occupied by silence. I leave the lights off and lead Link up to my room in darkness. A boy in my room... This may be the strangest thing I've ever done, but I don't overthink it. I grab the first aid kit from the bathroom and a Château Mouton-Rothschild from the wine cellar, then I return to my room where Link is standing by the glass wall. It's only 8 PM, but the sky is dark as the night.

It's really coming down, but now that we're inside, I don't mind the rain at all. It's quite calming to listen to. My clothes are soaked and covered in mud. I long to take a shower and curl up beneath my warm sheets, but nothing seems more important to me right now than looking after Link. I take my wet socks off and walk up to him to stand next to him on the soft carpet.

"I've never been at a place like this," Link says, gazing at the hills and the storm that consumes them.

"A place like what?"

"This big and private."

Big and private? What a nice way of calling a place empty and lonely.

My room is dark but the lights from the pool and the patio reach up to us, just enough to allow me to see Link's features. I've never seen a person as beat up as him, let alone taken care of the wounds. We sit down on the carpet right next to the glass wall. I pick up the cloth and the wine, and after some hesitation, I grab Link's hand. It's warm, mine are probably really cold.

"What are you doing?" He asks but doesn't pull away.

"Cleaning your wounds?"

Now he pulls away.

"Not with wine," he says amused. This is the first time I see a smile on his face and it shoots electricity through my whole body. My stomach flutters and I'm confident that Earth just stopped rotating and that the entire universe paused for a long second. Through the dark, his eyes are beaming with merriment like two twinkling stars.

"Alcohol disinfects wounds," I explain my intentions.

"Rubbing alcohol does. Wine makes it worse."

"Oh..." This is... embarrassing.

"I speak from experience," he says and I feel slightly better about my lack of knowledge. But I feel worse for him at the same time. How often did he have to disinfect his own wounds?

I dip the cloth in some water and take Link's hand for a second try. Water can never be bad, right? I gently tap the skin around his knuckles, removing the soil and blood from his skin. I have no idea what I'm doing, but it doesn't feel like I can mess up much more after nearly pouring wine over his open wounds.

Most of his hand looks clean now but next I'll have to remove the mud from the flesh of his busted knuckles.

"This might hurt," I say and apply gentle pressure with sterile gauze. Link barely flinches and doesn't show a sign of pain. How much of it is he hiding?

"Sorry," I say quietly. "I'm not good at this like Mipha. I... I shouldn't have run away from you. Mipha would never get herself in situations like that..."

Link places his other hand on mine and meets my eyes when I look up at him in bewilderment.

"I don't need you to be like Mipha. You're perfect the way you are."

My heart leaps. The way he said that just now makes me want to throw my arms around him. He said a simple thing, just his opinion really, so why do I feel the urge to hug and thank him? I force myself to focus on his injuries. His knuckles look much better now. This wasn't too bad.

"Other hand," I say and he places his left hand on my palm. This hand is much worse, probably because he hit the guy with his left fist.

"I'm really sorry."

"Stop apologizing." He smiles faintly. "You do owe me a soccer ball and a water bottle though."

I stop in shock. "Did you leave those at school?"

"I'm kidding. If there's one thing I have plenty of, it's water bottles. And the soccer ball wasn't mine."

I like this version of him. This lighthearted, teasing version of Link. Why can't he be like this at school? Not that I'd know if he were. But I've heard what others say about him.

"May I ask you something?" I say and wipe his hands with the cloth, his knuckles are scarred.

"Why are you so quiet all the time?"

I can tell I caught him off guard with that question and he takes a few seconds before he answers.

"Hyrule University expects me to be the key to victory. They want me to win the nationals. That's why they gave me a full-ride scholarship. If I don't succeed, I will let down thousands of people. With so much at stake and so many eyes upon me, I feel it necessary to stay strong and to silently bear any burden."

A feeling I know all too well... I shut the world out to focus on grades, he does the same to perform well at sports. It has caused him to stop outwardly expressing his thoughts and feelings. Here I was believing him to be simply a gifted person who has never faced a day of hardship. How wrong I was... Everyone has struggles that go unseen by the world... I was so absorbed with my own problems, I failed to see his.

"I'm sorry you have to go through all that." It's terrifying to have so many people watch your every step. I guess in a way we bear the same burden there.

"I'm sorry if I made you feel...ignored."

"No, it's okay," I say and mean it. I'm not upset anymore, I understand why he kept to himself. And I feel awful for yelling at him at the pier. He has just as much to lose as me, if not more. What kind of person would he be if he didn't have to carry all this weight on his shoulders?

"Why don't you have a wallpaper on your phone?" I say in an attempt to brighten the mood.

"I don't know. Don't really care about a wallpaper."

"You should have something you care about as your wallpaper so you look at it every time you unlock your phone."

"What's your wallpaper?"

I pull up my phone and show him the picture of Impa and me on the Ferris wheel with cutton candy on our chins, making it look like we have pink beards.

"You guys are really close, huh?"

"She's my best friend in the whole world. She's always been there for me for as long as I can remember."

It's true. My first memories go back to kindergarden. When choosing team mates, Impa would pick me when none of the other kids would. We won every game. When Father forced me to attend private school a year later, Impa begged her parents to let her go to the same school as me, but they refused to pay the tuition. Impa sold all her toys to save up money and we even held a presentation on why she should go to private school with me. We won that debate. When Mother passed away, Impa stayed at my house for a week straight, even though she wasn't supposed to. She forced me to participate in a science fair to distract me from the pain and sorrow. We won first place. With Impa by my side, nothing can stand in our way. Together, we're incinvible.

"When I'm having a rough day, life seems bleak and unfair... But when I look at my phone, I smile. I remember that not everything is bad. That there's someone I care about, someone who cares about me. It's easy to forget about the things we love when we're sad, so it's good to have a little reminder."

Link picks his phone up and unlocks it. He enters his photo album and begins to scroll. I try to focus on his wounds but can't help but glance at his photos every couple of seconds. He looks at all kinds of pictures, predictable thinhgs at first such as his soccer team and other sport related stuff but then it gets more personal. He notices that I'm looking at his phone and tilts it so that I can see more of the screen.

"That's my little sister," he says and swipes to the right, " this is my horse Epona," he swipes again to what looks like a wolf but, "That's our dog."

I had no idea he was such an animal lover. Now that I think about it, I don't know anything about him other than what Impa has told me about his sport career.

"I think your hands are okay now. We should take a look at your ribs too."

"They're fine."

"Link... You can't even lift your arms. They're not fine."

He sighs and nods in defeat. With a lot of effort, he lifts his arms over his head to pull up his shirt. I help him take it off and only then realize that I'm sitting in the dark with a shirtless boy. Yes, this is the strangest thing I've ever done. I open the blanket to cover his bare shoulders and take a look at his bruised side. There doesn't seem to be an open wound but that doesn't make it less serious. Blood vessels broke and the blood leaked and spread under his skin. At least nothing looks broken from what I can tell.

I wonder if those baseball players had something to do with this. They seemed to recognize Link, but then again, who doesn't? He's quite famous after all. His muscles twitch when I touch the marks. How could someone do something like this to another human being? My fingers trace his injury as gently as a feather. I remember what Mipha said about his ribs; that she gave him an ointment.

"Who is Ganon," I ask as I search the first aid kit for something I can apply to Link's skin.

"Someone from another school," he says, still scrolling through his album. Could this be the guy Revali mentioned?

"How do you know him?"

"We've been competing against each other for a while. He plays for the boars."

Lorule Academy... Father has mentioned that school in the past, calling it corrupted and foul. He had some kind of history with their chancellor, but I don't remember much about that man. All I know for certain is that that school is Hyrule's biggest rival and that those baseball players were from Lorule too. I knew the logo on that bus looked familiar.

"Did you get into a fight with him?" It would line up with what Revali said about the guy Link fought; that he's a rival from another school.

Link nods. I chew on my cheek, I want to know why they were fighting but I don't want to upset Link by being inquisitive.

"When?"

"At the pier. After you left."

"Why? Why did you..."

"It's not important."

"It nearly cost you your scholarship."

"I guess."

"So you must have had a really good reason."

"It was self-defense," he says, minding my eyes. I wonder if he's lying.

"So he hit you first?"

"Mhm."

"Why?"

Link falls back into silence. There is something he doesn't want to tell me. Why won't he open up? I thought he felt comfortable enough to talk to me.

"Will he be okay?"

"Who? Ganon?"

"Yes. The way you threatened that baseball player made it sound like Ganon's beating ended even worse."

His eyes suddenly shoot up at mine.

"Are you scared of me?" he asks and once again I can't read his mood.

"What? No, of course not. Why do you think I'm scared of you?"

"You said I threatened that guy. There's a difference between a threat and a warning."

Is there? Both indicate that something bad will happen. I rub the ointment on his skin, careful not to put too much pressure on his injured ribs.

"He'll be fine," Link says under his breath, clearly uncomfortable. "But he's done playing soccer for this season."

I don't carry on with the conversation. I don't want Link to feel uncomfortable talking to me, so I'll stop with the personal questions until he feels ready to share his stories.

"Is this Machu Picchu?" I say when he looks at a picture of himself in the Peruvian mountains. He nods and continues to swipe. Half the places he shows me I don't recognize, but they are breathtaking. He's traveled quite a bit. About every third image is food related, a few show a motor cycle, and a couple more are of sunsets. This puts Link into a completely different light. He's so compound with many different interests. He's so much more than I imagined him to be. He swipes again and lands on a mirror selfie; he's shirtless! I blush and snap my head away to look at anything but his phone. He notices my reaction and chuckles.

"Really? You strip me but you won't look at a picture of me shirtless? I'm literally shirtless right now."

I can't even hide my laugh. He's right. I must look so silly. Link is smiling too when he thinks I can't see it. His thumb moves across the screen again and I can see the very edge of the next photo, but he doesn't swipe. He turns his phone off instead.

"That's pretty much it," he says. I'm curious about the next photo and wonder why he didn't want to show it to me, but I respect his privacy. He has shown me much more than he had to. I really appreciate how much he shared with me despite his typical seclusion.

"Which picture will you chose?"

"I don't know," he puts his phone away. "Can't decide."

From the corner of my eye I can tell that he's watching me as I tap his bruised skin. I don't mind his eyes on me. Usually I do, but right now it's kind of nice.

"Why do you hate your dad?" He surprises me by asking a question for a change.

"I don't... hate my father."

"At the bay you said you hate him."

"No, I... I don't hate him. I really don't. It's just... He can be distressing. He frustrates me."

"What frustrates you?"

"He doesn't listen. He doesn't understand my ambitions and dreams. I had to beg him to let me study my major of choice. And even then, he made these absurd rules which he knows I can't follow."

"What's your dream?"

"My dream? Er... I want to become a researching scientist in the fields of biology. I know it sounds silly, but I'd like to win a Nobel prize one day."

"And what are the rules?"

I don't know if I should tell him. He'll think I'm crazy for agreeing to them. But I don't want to lie to him either.

"I have a curfew," I begin and grab a new gauze pad and roll from the kit to wrap around his chest.

"I mustn't tell lies," I pause for a moment to vocalize the most unfeasible of the rules; "I have to get a perfect score on everything."

"What do you mean... 'Everything'?"

"Exams, assignments, attendance... That's why... That's why I was so upset today. I was late for my course and Pik..." I don't finish my sentence.

"Is he your boyfriend?"

"No!" I defend myself as if Father was listening.

"You were holding hands."

"I barely know him. I was... My mind was somewhere else. I didn't notice that he was holding my hand."

"He likes you."

I blush and swallow. What am I supposed to reply to that?

"Doesn't matter. I mustn't have a boyfriend, that's the final rule," I say and feel the rising heat in my cheeks. I want to change the topic but I can't come up with something this quickly.

"We don't have to talk about this if you don't want to," he says and I find myself relieved.

I suppose Urbosa was right when she said Link and I are the same when it comes to communication. I understand why he won't talk to me about certain things, just like I don't want to talk to him about certain things. Still, part of me really wants to tell him all the stuff that's bothering me. Talking to Link is... confusing. I'm very comfortable talking to him but nervous all the same.

A lightning bolt meets the ocean and fills the room with a flash of light. For the blink of an eye I can see Link's warm expression and he can see mine. The same thought crosses my mind over and over... I'm so happy he's here with me.

"I'm glad I'm not alone right now," I admit.

I close the first aid kit. I'm not a doctor and I'm not Mipha, but I think I did an okay job on his injuries. Now it's up to him to stay out of trouble and give his body the rest it needs. The rain is pouring down the windows next to us, the wind hiss', snaking its way through the valleys, and thunder roars in the distance.

"Zelda..."

I turn my head to look at him. We're only inches apart, yet I can hardly see the blue of his eyes through the dark. I see something unfamiliar in him. Something warm and exciting. It feels like I found something I didn't know I was searching for. I see patience, empathy, and security.

"If something makes you happy, don't let it be taken away," he says, probably implying my major. "Everyone deserves to be happy. You especially."

  The second his words reach my ears I feel weightless and alive in a way I haven't experienced before. The heaviness of my pounding heart is the anchor holding me to the ground. For the first time in many years, I feel like I'm home. Really home; safe and content. This was perhaps the worst day of my life, so why am I suddenly overflowing with happiness? Before I can query and analyze my emotions, I lean in closer, desperately longing for more. Link is as nonplused as me but doesn't stop my lips from touching his.