That night we decided that because we were all exceptionally tired—especially Link for some unknown reason—that we would go to sleep early. I wasn’t overly tired, so I decided to stay up. Midna offered to take watch for the whole night, which none of us objected to. Link is already fast asleep in dreamland, but I want to stay up and watch the sunset. Once again they’re different everyday but all similar in the end. Sort of like me, I guess. I’d like to watch the colours blend from the spring that we passed a few minutes before setting up camp, but Link wouldn’t be impressed if I put my own petty desires above our group’s safety.

With all the city lights and towering call centers and whatnot in my world, you hardly get to see the stars or sunsets. I’m really going to miss this when I have to leave.

Then again, what am I sad about? I’ll be back with my family, and—I will honestly admit—that I sort of miss my pain-in-the-ass little sister. Whenever I think of going back, it gives me butterflies to be able to see my parents again; but underneath that is a weird twisting pain, a yearning to not leave. I don’t understand it yet, but I’m sure I will soon.

Ah, my family... I wonder what they’re doing. Does time work differently here, like one second in my world is a year here? Or the other way around? If it’s the other way around, then my whole family is dead. I gulp and rub my suddenly sweaty palms at the thought, praying silently that it doesn’t work that way. But if there isn’t a time change, then I don’t want to imagine the horror I’m putting them through.

Mom probably isn’t eating and is in a depression-like state; Dad probably isn’t sleeping or is on edge 24/7. My sister always says she loves me, but I always yell at her and tell her to go away. Here’s a tip, for anyone seeing this: if you have a family member that you don’t think you care for, start caring. Now I feel horrible that I never told her that I love her too. My sister probably isn’t even going to school and can’t stop crying, but can’t find anyone to listen.

“Neri?” Midna’s concerned voice breaks through my thoughts. She sits next to me, leaning over to my lap.

“Yeah?”

“Are you okay?”

What does she mean? I’m fine—

She points at my hands with her turquoise ones, and I see small drops of water on them. Is it raining...? No, it’s not.

I was...crying. I bring up my hands to rub away at my tears, angry at myself for actually showing weakness. Hopefully I didn’t cry too much.

“What’s wrong?” Midna asks in an innocent voice, so unlike her usual spunky tone.

“Nothing, I’m fine now.” I can see by her eyes that she doesn’t believe or care for my little white lie.

“Neri,” she coaxes me.

I sigh, and close my eyes. “I just miss my family more than I thought because I never said goodbye.” Raising my head to look at her, I give a fabricated smile and try to shake it off. “Stupid, right?”

Midna’s eyes close halfway and she looks down at her feet. “No. I know how you feel,” Midna whispers. “I miss my empire. I miss all my citizens and my real form—but I can’t go back.”

“Why?” This setting is very different from the game, so I really want an explanation.

“Because the mirror disappeared,” she sniffles. But that happens in the game, right? So Link and Midna just need to get the fragments.

“Why don’t you find the parts and put it together again?”

She gives me a puzzled look, as if my idea was the worst on the planet and I mortally wounded her. “It’s not broken.” Then how can she not go back? “It’s disappeared as a whole. Gone. Nowhere to be found. But we think Ghirahim took it, because he had that Twilight sword and other things we’ve seen.”

So Ghirahim is just a plain jerk here—not that he wasn’t in the game; he’s still an overconfident sadist.

A small tear falls down her face, and she bites her lip. Her hands try to shield her face, and I can tell she is embarrassed. Some more tears roll down her cheeks, sliding through her fingers. I feel so taken aback to see something no one thought they would ever see: Midna having a breakdown. I take my palm, which is half the length of her back, and gently give her a reassuring rub. She moves away at first before accepting it, and I scoot closer to her so I can wrap my arm around her shoulders. Finally her hands fall, and she looks defeated.

“Is that what you and Link were looking for before you found me?”

She nods, and looks down again. Midna murmurs softly, “Neri...”

“Yeah?” I lean down to her height so that I can hear her better. She unexpectedly looks up, and then I feel her frail arms wrap around my neck. My gray and gold eyes widen, but then I put my hands on her small back. I smile and close my eyes.

“Thanks for listening,” she whispers in my ear. My smile falters as I feel my own tears come forth for a second time.

What I wouldn’t give to vent to a friend... 

I mentally shake that thought out before having a chance to reconsider it. I can’t be so self-centered.

“You can tell me anytime. But don’t worry, I won’t tell Link.” I let her go and press my finger to my mouth. “My lips are sealed.” Her face lights up, and I think that maybe I should give her the chance to get some rest. Midna must be tired after venting her frustrations, because that’s always how I get after I cry.

“Neri, you’re really nice,” she whispers. My insides get all warm and fuzzy, which I like. I can tell that she doesn’t say that to just anyone. “Link may not say it out loud like I did, but he does care. He almost cried when you were stabbed.”

My breath catches in my throat. He almost cried over me? I never thought I was worth being cried over by...well, anyone.

“Thanks Midna. It’s nice to know that. Hey, I’m going to take a bath by that spring we walked past a few minutes west of here, and if you stay awake until I’m done, then I’ll take watch,” I offer, figuring Link will never know. Her small head nods like a bobble head, and I get up.

Good thing that I just came back from swimming when I got zapped here. My bikini is under my Cabela’s hoodie, so I don’t really have to completely strip. As I start to walk, I start noticing the dirt that has already started to get on my clothes that the Goddesses had removed. I sigh as my hand brushes the crumbling dirt, silently wishing it was cleaner.

My shoes break some small twigs and make dull thumps whenever they hit the dew-coated grass, but I have the feeling some animal will hop out and attack me. Should I go back and get Fi? No, I’m almost there; so there isn’t much of a point in turning back. I wouldn’t want to wake or disrupt Fi from whatever she does while lying dormant in the Goddess Sword. For all I know, she’s playing poker with the Goddesses in there. I see the surface of the black water glistening silver in the light of the moon, and I pick up my pace.

The whole pond is lit by the moon. The silver rays bounce off the pitch surface, projecting a perfect pool of stars into the water. The trees glow a dark blue courtesy of the night sky. It’s beautiful, that’s for sure; but also slightly eerie.

When I’m at the water’s edge, I dip in my finger to test the temperature—it’s pretty cold but I’ve been in worse. Making sure that there is no mud, I sit down on a large rock. Ripping off my sneakers without bothering with the laces, I peel off my socks which are sadly white. I’m never buying white socks again when this is over. I pull off my skinny jeans, which put up quite the fight, and nearly smack against a tree when I lose my balance. I stand back up and am about to unzip my hoodie halfway when I feel something cold on my neck.

“Well aren’t you pretty as always?” a mocking voice says from behind me.

I suppress a shriek. Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit, I chant in my head. We’re getting pummelled over and over without a moment’s relaxation. First my meeting with Ghirahim, Link’s wounds from the arrows, and now this predicament.

I foolishly try to elbow him in the gut, but he just dodges it while managing to hold me hostage. “Ghirahim,” I hiss and try to turn around, but he stands behind my back with the blade against my skin.

“Yes, Demon Lord Ghirahim. You forgot the title,” he says, and his hand reaches out and grabs my cheeks. I try to bite him, but his pale hands move with ease. Grabbing my face in his hand with an iron grip, he snaps my neck up so I can see him.

I glare at him with all the spite I can muster, hardening my glare with the memory that he almost killed Link—but my squished chipmunk-cheeks aren’t helping.

“Oh my, you’re so scary. I see that your unfortunate injury didn’t kill you.” He ignores me and his brown eyes narrow.

“Nope. It’ll take more than that.” Why can’t I shut my stupid mouth? I swear it has a mind of its own. “Nice eyeliner by the way. Violet is just fabulous, isn’t it?”

His mocking smile disappears and he purses his white lips. “Anyways, I came here for some entertainment—seeing that you were so amusing last time, and I’m so bored now,” he growls in my ear. I cringe at his voice and struggle, but his hand grips my face tighter. His thin black sword disappears with a snap of his fingers, and his hand reaches to grab my wrist—hard. Any harder and he might break my wrist.

“What do you want me to do about it? Tell some jokes? Serve you some tea?”

“My, my, while that would be quite amusing...” He yanks me closer to him. His chest and body is like stone and cold, not warm and comforting like Link’s. “I came for some more delicious screams of yours,” he rumbles in my ear.

I start to panic. He stabbed me with intent to kill before, so he won’t hesitate to do so again. I suppress my fears, partially because I can’t let him see that he’s gotten to me, and partly because I need to preserve whatever is left of my pride.

He throws me forward and disappears, and I crash to the ground. My hoodie is still half undone, so I zip it up. I push myself to my feet, bracing myself for anything—and I mean anything. As I almost start to run, a searing pain flips me from my feet to my back, and I wheeze when my ribs compress my lungs. I look over with wide eyes to see gash on my shoulder, definitely not enough to kill but enough to hurt like hell.

A triumphant laugh echoes through the spring, and I prepare myself for another swing. It comes, but this time along my thigh. I let out a strangled cry before a slash carves down my cheek, conveying to me to keep quiet. I oblige.

Each one is about half an inch deep, I guess, and two inches long. I definitely won’t die, but I feel light-headed and my body is on fire. I count all the lacerations that burn down my body. One, on my left shoulder. Two, on my right thigh. Three, on my left cheek. Four, across my back. Five, through my left side. Six, severing my heel. All of the gashes are a clean cut. As soon as the deep slash runs through my Achilles tendon, I almost let loose and wail. Another slash runs across my forehead, barely skimming the surface, warning me for the second time to keep quiet. I bite the collar of my hoodie, squeezing back the tears of pain rising in my eyes and choke back the sobs in my throat.

Silence echoes through the trees. I half-expect Ghirahim to launch out of the trees like the Headless Horseman in Sleepy Hollow, remembering how much the tale scared me as a child. My eyes dart around, trying to figure where he’ll come from next. I let my jaw fall slack, letting go of my collar, and back against a tree. I whimper a bit at my heel, burning the worst out of all places. My fingers wrap around my heel that is gushing blood and rock to and fro on my tailbone. Choked sobs leave my lips. After another ten minutes of being huddled against the tree and holding my ankle, I pull myself up, and use the trees to help me balance and prevent putting weight on my right foot as I hobble back to my stack of clothes.

Not wanting to possibly infect all of the lacerations, I decide that it would be for the best if I just skip bathing tonight. I put my socks on while clenching my teeth so I don’t scream. My jeans make me almost bite through my lip in pain, but I manage to pull them on just after my teeth break the skin of my lips and I taste iron. Slipping on my shoes is less difficult but just as painful, and then I slowly get to my feet. I zip up my hoodie more, and then start limping back to camp using the same procedure as before: grabbing the trees and branches to steady myself as I stagger back to camp.

This trip is three times as long as before. I see the lightly burning coals through the dense boughs, and I let out a relieved breath. When I sit down after clawing at the branches obstructing my path, I see Midna hasn’t held up her side of the deal. She slouches while softly snoring, her head bobbing when she inhales.

I don’t want to wake up Link or Midna for something as unimportant as a few cuts, especially when they aren’t that deep. One cut that goes down my left cheek is especially bothering me—I hope it doesn’t scar. The small one on my forehead stings as my hair sticks to the blood.

Not caring if there is no one to take watch, I slide under the blanket next to Link, which is warm from his body heat. My body aches and protests, but I don’t give a damn. I grab Midna in my arms like a teddy bear, and fall asleep with my face in her titian hair.