Disclaimer: I don't own Legend of Zelda... *cries*

This is my first fic, so it probably won't be the best. Pleaaase keep that in mind as you read.

-SM

I was a good student at Clock Town High School. I mean, I got into fights every now and then, but then, like any other self-respecting 18-year-old in Clock Town I'd also wriggled my way out of punishment dozens of times. And I had surprisingly good grades.

See, but it all went wrong on the field trip.

Well, it started off like any normal day in Mrs. Kalgenatt's history class, with us going over review from the day before, and Tommy snickering in the back of the classroom, "Link and Jasmine, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G..." Which was stupid, because Jasmine's had a crush on me since 8th grade. Mrs. Kalgenatt promptly ignored him.

"The last announcement for today," she was saying when I finally zoned in on her words, "is that there will be a field trip next week to the Termina National Museum - for more information, pick up an orange sheet over there by the door." As people started standing up, she cried, "Not now! After class is dismissed."

Everyone sat back down. Class went on, as usual, but I stared out the window, completely bored out of my mind. The only highlight of the rest of the day was when, in the hallway in between classes, Tommy said something about my "barbie blond hair," and I spun around, neatly tackling him to the hallway floor. Then I stood up and told the teachers that I forgot something in my locker and needed to hurry and get it before next period.

Let's just say, most of the teachers love me here.

After lunch, I went outside for recess. Most of the guys played basketball, but I wasn't very good, and anyway they would never play with a blond-haired, blue-eyed boy like myself. But I decided to try my luck, and walked over there.

"Hey, Noah," I started. "Nice shot."

He grunted. "Better than you could do." There was a challenge in his voice.

My eyes hardened and I put my hand out for the ball, raising an eyebrow. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah!" he slammed the ball into my hand.

Forgetting that I was trying to make a good impression on the fairly large crowd of almost every boy in the middle school gathering around.

"I could crush you to a pulp any time of day," he sneered.

"Doubt it, fatty," I muttered, just low enough that he knew I said something, but not what.

"What did you say?" he demanded. I shrugged and repeated myself, louder this time. "I bet your parents wouldn't approve of you right now," he said. Then paused, as though struck by a sudden realization. "Oh, wait!" he cried. "You don't have any parents! and even if you did, they'd probably be just as pale-skinned, blue-eyed, and yellow-haired as you."

Don't let him get to you, don't let him get to you, don't let him get to you! I kept repeating the words in my head. Don't let him get to you, don't let him…

I eventually bit down some nasty replies that had sprung to my lips, and then stalked away from him to the three-pointer line drawn with chalk on the ground. I could feel my cheeks burn in anger, but I shoved people out of the way to get there.

I tried to remember what Nick, the next door neighbor, told me about basketball. Arms back, legs bent…

I released the ball. It soared, and maybe one of the goddesses took pity on me at that moment, because the ball went in without even touching the rim. Everything went silent, until Noah said, "Too bad your Mum isn't here, otherwise you could tell her of your big achievement. I make three-pointers all the time."

"Not like that," one of the kids in the crowd said.

"He didn't even dribble first!" another called out.

But my eyes were focused on Noah, and a silent conversation was held.

You're going to get it, his eyes told me.

I just snorted at him and replied, not really.

Just keep believing that.

Then he stormed away.

Anyway, I went home that night feeling pretty good about myself. I made a three-pointer. I mean, heck, it was like a miracle! What was there to feel bad about? I climbed the steps of our broken-down little house, in the suburb of Clock Town. Apparently this all used to be forest, but when Clock Town was expanded, they had to get rid of the trees. One area was preserved, though - Woodfall, it's called. No one's allowed to go there, which always annoyed me.

But then again, almost everything did.

I grabbed a sheet the next day, for the field trip, because I had forgotten to get one. The school day flew by pretty fast, but I got jumped on my way home. Go figure, it was Noah and his goons, who were all twice as big as me.

"Gimme your backpack, pig," said Noah, safely behind one of the two big guys.

I raised an eyebrow. "No can do," I told him. "I have some special lining in there so that, when I take your head, it doesn't ruin the backpack. See, Ms. Jacobs would never forgive me if the backpack was ruined. It was expensive." Ms. Jacobs was my foster mother, for now - I mean, the problem with her was that she never cared a bit about me, but she liked to employ me to other people and take my paychecks.

And for some reason, my foster parents never lasted for long.

Noah looked up at one of his goons. "Why don't you go and take his backpack," he said politely. Then, looking at me, said, "I promise not to damage the lining in it - after all, we want no violence. I just want to make sure that you didn't forget anything at school. I'd be a shame."

The guy came forward. I tensed, ever so slightly. He walked up. One more step… with the speed of lightning, I kicked him in the stomach, he doubled over, like anyone would, and I grabbed the neck of his shirt and threw him onto the ground. As he scrambled to get up, the other goon charged. This time, I backed up - and then unexpectedly vaulted off a door on the side of the dark alley and rammed my shoulder into his. He fell against the brick wall across the alley and, since the mortar was so old and broken, actually fell through the wall. Luckily, most of the houses here were vacant.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out a pocketknife. I ran over to Noah, who was just standing there with a surprised look on his face, and held the knife level.

I started to say, "Now, don't you ever-" when there was a sharp pain in the back of my head, giving me enough time to remember the first goon that I downed, and how he was still alive and kicking, before everything faded black.

LINE BREAK

I cracked an eye open. It was dark.

Nick was peering at me. "You alright, kid?" he asked me.

"I…" I cleared my throat and started again. "Yeah. Just have headache."

He nodded, satisfied that I was probably okay for once. "Good."

I sat up, blinking a couple times. "Did you take me home?" I asked him. He nodded once, telling me that he figured he couldn't leave me laying on the cobblestone streets in a back alley.

"What were you doing there, anyway?" he asked me. "Besides fighting idiots who are way beneath you."

I grinned sheepishly. "I was on my way home from school, but… I just let myself wander around instead of coming straight home. Anyway, I ended up there when those three guys showed up. What were you doing there?"

"Watching you fight three idiots," he replied shortly. "Anyway, I should probably go before your mom finds me here…"

"She's not my mother," I grumbled. "And anyway, who cares if she sees you here? She might not kick you out this time."

"Might," he said, emphasising the word. "It's a sting to my pride to be kicked out of a house by an old lady like her."

"See ya around, then, Nick."

He winked, and then left through the window.

At dinner, I shoved the form - the now-dirty, tattered, torn and crumpled form - for the field trip towards Ms. Jacobs, along with the forty rupees.. She signed it without even looking at what it was. "How long will you be gone?" she asked me.

I peered at the form, trying to read it in the dim light. "It says here… three days."

"Do you need to bring food?" she asked me in a monotone.

"I'll pay for everything I need myself," I told her in a determined tone.

"You can go."

And that is pretty much how the whole thing started.

LINE BREAK

Next thing I knew, Noah was in the hospital with a concussion (thanks to Nick, I'm sure) and I was on a bus to the Termina National Museum. A couple hours later, we arrived.

There was only one teacher chaperone; the other one called in sick because of vomiting a half hour before we were supposed to leave. The school didn't cancel, probably because they figured a) we're responsible, mature seniors, b) theres going to be a guide there, which makes two, and c) it would cost money to cancel and reschedule. Money, which is pretty tight in the budget these days. They paid for it, and they were going through with it.

When we got there, Mrs. Kalgenatt herded us inside the huge museum. The guide - a creepy redhead with a permanent smile on his face, and pinpoint black pupils inside of orange irises - since when did people have orange eyes?

He had on purple robes, with gold trim, and had his own tan backpack slung over his right shoulder. I briefly wondered if all guides had to wear those ridiculous looking purple robes. They kind of… set me on edge.

But the creepiest part was that, when he looked at me, he looked into my eyes - and it felt almost like he was looking into more than just my eyes - like he was looking straight inside my mind. I blinked and looked away. When I looked back up, I glared at him, and he flinched away, which only confused me more and made my eyebrows furrow.

"Link's gonna murder someone! Take cover!" one of the other kids in my class said. I tried to relax the glare a bit, but then caught sight of Tommy, who was grinning evilly. I began stalking over to him, when the guide started talked.

I only heard half, but his nasal, high-pitched, and obviously fake voice was both startling and intriguing at the same time.

"According to legend, this is the same mask worn by the Hero of Termina as he defeated monsters in Great Bay…" I zoned out for a second, staring into space until I heard him say, in a malicious voice, "and here is the very mask that supposedly almost destroyed Termina by crashing the moon into the earth. Legend has it that the Hero of Termina - I believe he went by the name Link, if I am not mistaken -" which caused giggles all around the room from the other seniors, who were acting like little children, and a few not-so-gentle nudges from elbows. "-anyway," the guide glared at us until we quieted, "legend has it that he called four giants, after rescuing them from some sort of prison, and they stopped the moon. He then went inside it, to fight this mask - Majora's Mask."

The name sent a shiver up my spine, and everyone else's. But the guide had a grin on his face, as happy as ever. I looked at the mask to which he was pointing.

It was heart shaped, but I think "heart" is a misleading word. It had spikes coming from the sides, four on each side, and two on top. The whole mask's color was faded a little, but the wood looked intact. The eyes - oh my goddess, the eyes - were worse than the guide's. They were also orange, but these were huge - nearly half the mask was filled with the eyes. They seemed to bore into me, and the whole thing made me shudder again. It had lines and intricate symbols all over it… and made me wonder whether or not it was just a mask.

"Also, the legend says that the Hero of Termina did it in three days time." He snorted. "However, this is just a silly legend, because if the moon really had been as close to the earth as they are supposing in the legend, then we all would have died by then anyway, because…" and he started talking about how the moon would have already thrown the earth off its course from the sun, gravity problems, and blah blah blah.

I zoned out once more.

I was inspecting the mask when we moved on, looking at zora relics and such. I stayed behind, avoiding the chaperone easily enough. I stood there, staring at Majora's Mask - because something was not quite right with it. It was like… it looked so familiar… but I'd certainly never been here before…

And then suddenly, Majora's Mask lit up - all the colors flowed into it, and the eyes seemed to come to life as they tried to bore holes into my head. I heard a deep chuckle - although chuckle seems like to nice and soft. It was more of a quiet, malevolent laugh… and as soon as the color came, it faded again.

My heart was in my throat. My eyes were probably as wide as quarters, and I could feel all the blood draining from my face.

Footsteps. I turned around to see the guide coming up to me. I looked for a nametag on his robe, but found none. "Hello, Mr., uh…"

"You may call me mister," he said in his nasally voice.

"Well, hello, mister," I said. "Sorry I fell behind…" but something in his eyes told me he was not here to talk about that. "I was just looking at the mask again. It's… intriguing," I told him.

"I thought so, too, for a time," he mused quietly. "Until a certain somebody convinced me different. But, now, you wouldn't remember that, would you?"

He peered into my eyes again. And then, after a second of silent staring at each other, he said to me, "Don't get lost, young mister Link, and do come back to us." As he moved off into the crowd, I heard him say, "Believe in your strengths… believe…"

My heart beat faster in my chest. I turned towards Majora's Mask and stared at it. "You know what's going on," I accused it. "Tell me!"

Majora did not answer. Didn't even come alive. "For the love of Nayru…" I muttered angrily. "First creepy guys with orange eyes, then creepy masks with orange eyes, and…" I took a deep breath.

"Excuse me, mister," said a voice from behind me. I spun around and found myself staring into the deep, chocolatey brown eyes of… nope. Don't recognize him. Some random kid.

"I'd like to look at the mask, if you don't mind," he said. A vague smile appeared on his tanned face, and he blew his brown hair out of his eyes, saying quietly, "Also, I'd like my turn to talk to it."

My eyebrow narrowed. "Who are you?" I demanded, but moved out of the way nonetheless.

"Name's Ramian," he said, looking at the mask. "And you?"

"Link."

"Last name?"

"You didn't tell me yours!" I cried.

"And neither did you!" He said, in exactly the same tone.

"I don't know mine," I said stubbornly. "My parents both died when I was very small, leaving me with my crazy aunt, on my Mom's side, who doesn't 'know' my last name, and in turn went even more nuts. Now I bounce around from foster home to foster home, never staying in one place from more than one year."

He blinked. "Sorry, man. Last name's Curr." He stuck out a hand. I gratefully shook it. "Anyway," he said, "I was here with some friends, but… we got in a car accident and they died. I've been trying to scrounge up some money to get myself home…" his eyes got a distant look, twinkling in the light.

"After the accident, the government didn't give you a ride home?" I asked, shocked.

"Nope. They just turned me loose onto the streets. Now I do odd jobs."

"Sounds rough."

"You're going through something just as rough."

"Yeah…" I swallowed thickly. "Where do you live?"

"A couple hours southeast of Clock Town," he said. "Live on a farm with my older brother. Our parents are dead, too."

"Oh. I guess the feelings are mutual, here."

"Except you were left with a crazy aunt, and me with a kind older brother."

"Only to be stuck here without him," I replied crisply, never one to look on the bright side.

"Whatever," he said shortly.

I cracked a half smile. He replied in kind.

"Mister Jacobs!" snapped a voice from behind me. The use of the name "Jacobs" made me grind my teeth, but I tried not to show it. "Where have you been?" I stiffened, and then turned to see Mrs. Kalgenatt force her way through the crowd.

"Gotta go," I told Ramian. "But, uh… I'll meet you back here in an hour, okay?"

"Okay," he said. His eyes glinted mischievously.

"Coming!" I called to Mrs. Kalgenatt, and after glancing at Majora's Mask once more, sped off towards the sound of her voice.

When I caught up to her, she scolded me for running off like that, even though I tried to placate her by saying that I got lost on the way to the bathroom. Too bad she didn't buy it. Oh, well. You can't have everything in life, and you can't have nothing. Someone told me that once… I forget who. It must have been a long time ago.

An hour later, it was lunch time. They released us from the museum. I left dutifully with everyone else, but then, managed to get my way back inside. It was a bit hard, because of security reasons, but I also managed to do it with my pocketknife.

Please don't ask how. I'd rather… not give anyone ideas.

I walked around the half-empty museum, finally finding Majora's Mask. I looked around, wondering where Ramian could have got to. Suddenly there was a commotion behind me. I spun around.

It was the guide. The abnormally happy one in purple.

"He stole from my backpack!" cried the guide.

"Sir, what was the item that he stole? What did the thief look like?" asked one of the policemen.

"He had brown hair and brown eyes. He had a slight build, but looked strong enough to me… and he stole a mask from my collection!" he said heatedly.

"A slight build, you say?" asked one of them, writing something down.

"You keep your 'mask collection' in a backpack on your back?" asked another in disbelief.

"Yes!" cried the guide. For some reason… I had no doubt that he was talking about Ramian. "He looked like…" then the guide saw me, and his eyes widened. "Look," he told them, "just watch out for him, okay?" and with that, he twirled off towards me.

I took a step back as he stepped forward towards me. "No need to be afraid," he chuckled. For a split second it reminded me of Majora's chuckle.

"And no need for you to get unnecessarily close to me," I replied evenly.

"Point taken. Why are you here, and not stuffing your face with food like some other young men in your group?"

"Because," I said grumpily, "I had barely enough money to pay for the field trip. To me, at least, 40 rupees does not come simply, and so I didn't have enough for food. I just wanted to go on the field trip for the trip here, not go on the field trip in order to have an excuse to stuff my face with food."

He raised an eyebrow. "What an excellent observation of yourself," he said.

"So," I said, "what did the mask that was stolen look like?"

He glanced nervously at Majora's Mask before replying, in a quiet voice, "it was the mask of a… a fierce diety that came into my possession some years ago. I was so very happy to have finally found it, and even happier to find my lifelong dream: Majora's Mask."

"Well," I said, "you found both masks - now one is stolen, and the other is locked up inside a museum with such high security, I doubt even a mouse could make it inside without being detected."

"Another excellent observation, I see," he told me. "See, Majora's Mask is a very special mask… it carries so much meaning… both sentimental and a strong physical presence… and one more thing: a background. It's a truly amazing mask," he told me. His eyes seemed to flash green, instead of orange, just for a second.

"It was used, many many years ago, for… rituals," there was a little hesitation that didn't escape unnoticed by me. "The ancient tribes used it's powers for their purposes, but then… well, it was realized that the mask actually belonged to a family member of mine, who obtained it and then promptly died - killed, no doubt, because of the mask.

"I recovered it, and as the last line of my tr-" there was the slightest pause here "-family, I took it and had it. Then, it was once again taken from me by… someone… who harnessed the power the my recently stolen mask, and used it against me. So, when I found the mask that was used to take Majora's Mask away from me, I was quite happy to have it.

"I figured I could use it to get Majora's Mask back… and now it is stolen," there was a bitterness in his voice that I probably should have noted, but ignored anyway. "However: I have a proposition for you, boy."

I just looked evenly into his eyes. He squirmed like a fish caught on a hook, which I didn't get. "How good are you at breaking into places?" he demanded.

"What?!" That was not the question I was expecting.

"Shh!" he pressed a finger to his lips, looking agitated. "How good are you at breaking into places?" he asked me again.

"I've… done my fair share," I told him. "But nothing ever as top-security as this one."

"Try it."

"Excuse me?"

He winced as though it physically hurt him to say: "Please try it. Get back Majora's Mask for me."

"And I'm doing this because…?"

"Well, because it's a favor, which is nice. But if you don't like that option, which I can see you don't from the look on your face, then… I'll give you a mask."

"Any of your masks?" I demanded. "And you'll swear to give me one?" An idea was forming in my head…

"Hah! I'm not that foolish. Any except Majora's Mask itself." My plan fell to ruins immediately. But then it caught fire as another plan erupted from my amazing brain. "And yes, I swear to the three goddesses that, if you return Majora's Mask to me before three days time, I will give you any mask - other than Majora's Mask - to keep. Forever."

I stuck out my hand. "Done."

The smile, the oh-so-obviously-fake one, was plastered back onto his face.

"And don't smile at me like that," I added.

He left with a minor frown, darkly muttering something about kids with too much power or something like that.

As soon as he left, Ramian showed up. "Sorry I was late," he told me. "I got, uh, caught up on some things."

"Like running from the police?" I asked him quietly. He started to nod, but then realized when he was doing and stopped.

"Uhh… no."

"Dude, I respect the fact that you stole from the creepy mask guide… person. But, uh… how good are you actually? I mean… do you think you'd be able to, say, sneak in here and steal one of the 'legendary masks'?" I asked him, carefully crafting my words. This was a dangerous minefield, I knew, but I trusted Ramian a lot more than I'd like to. At least, more than the stupid guide in purple.

His lips twisted tightly together as he looked around considering it. "I'd be able to get the zora mask thing over there," he said, after inspecting it quite thoroughly.

I nodded, then said, "How about Majora's Mask."

"No," he said immediately. "No. Way too heavily guarded. Never. Plus, the lock. I mean, I'd need three, possibly four hands to hold the lock, tools, and other things as I stole the mask. No can do, sorry, buddy." He paused, then seeing the crestfallen look on my face, asked, "Why?"

"I just… promised someone that I'd give them the mask within three days."

His eyes widened. Promises were very serious things here in Termina.

He looked into my eyes, trying to gauge if I was really, truly in as much trouble as I was. I silently sent him a plea, help me.

I won the staring contest. "Fine," he snapped, although I could see that his eyes were actually layered with excitement. "And he'd better be paying you good."

I allowed a grin to play over my features. "Any of his masks, except Majora's Mask."

He raised an eyebrow. "Dude. A mask? Seriously?"

"Look, I have an idea. How much do you like the mask you stole?"

He looked down. "It has amazing power. I wouldn't trade it for anything in the world, not even Majora's Mask itself."

"Not a ride home?" I asked. His lips tightened. He shook his head mutely. "Fine," I sighed, "but I have an idea that works in your favor."

And then I told him the plan. At first, he was reluctant, but I eventually prodded him enough that he agreed.

"Deal," he said finally, shaking hands with me.

We plotted for the rest of the evening, when Mrs. Kalgenatt let us "schoolmates" roam. I went to bed extra early, setting my internal clock - I can tell myself when to wake up, and I'll actually wake up then - to 11:45.

I fell asleep, wearing dark-colored pajamas so that I could… I don't know… blend in better? It felt like only a second later when I woke up.

I checked the clock. 11:46. Time to go…

Treading carefully on the carpet in our hotel, I slipped out and went downstairs. I snuck around to the museum, which was closed by now and all locked up tight. I went to a doorway, which led to who-knows-where - probably some sort of tourist shop - and sat down, unmoving, staring out into the dark square for Ramian.

"Hey," a voice suddenly whispered next to me. I jumped in surprise.

"Ramian!" I hissed. "Don't sneak up on me like that. I almost screamed like a little girl."

I could hear a smile in his voice as he said, "I would have paid money to hear that."

"Ha, ha, I'm just busting a gut here."

He suddenly grabbed my ear. "Listen, we need to be serious now. Let's get closer."

"Closer?" I cried, suddenly scared.

"Shh! Keep it down! And, yes. Closer. I need to see what kinds of things they have here."

"Hey, Ramian," I said, after a moment of us silently stealing across the square.

"Yeah?"

"Can I see the mask?"

His expression turned guarded. "Why do you want to see it?" he asked me defensively. "You don't trust me?"

"I trust you," I said, "but I… just want to see what it actually looks like. Just, for memory reasons." He frowned. "Do you even have it on you?" I asked.

"I… yes," he told me. Then he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a mask. I could only just make out a few details. There was… a hat - an extremely large hat, I might add - attached to the back, white bangs sticking out in between the regular, tan-shaded face and the big hat. But the face… most of it was regular, but a blue arrow pointed down from the forehead, with a golden arrow in the middle of that, and light blue separating the two.

Also, there was a red line that I could barely see underneath the eye holes, and another red dot underneath the lines. I noted the hard, pressed line that was the lips, and then Ramian shoved it in his pocket again. He must have pretty deep pockets, I thought to myself.

"Now that you've seen it," Ramian said grimly, "let's go."

We looked around the entire rest of the night, trying to figure out some way to get it without being spotted, and how to disable alarms - that sort of thing. At the end of the night, I was exhausted.

"What time is it?" he complained as we walked away from the museum. "I feel like I've never slept a day in my life."

"Check Clock Tower," I told him. My internal clock told me it was probably around 5am, but I was too tired to lift my head and check the tall tower, rising in the distance.

"It's 5:15," Ramian said after a moment. "Or about 5:15, anyway." He blinked a couple times, then reached out and caught my arm as I stumbled. "Where's your hotel again?" he asked.

"I think it's that way…"

We stumbled around for, oh, probably another good half hour or so before finally finding my hotel.

But before going in, Ramian caught my arm and said, "Hey, Link… I just got an idea…"

"What is it?"

"Well, the creepy guide guy in purple, he said that this mask-" he pulled out the mask he stole "-was used to steal Majora's Mask from him… maybe we could use it?"

My jaw hung open, partly because I was yawning and partly in shock.

"Is that a yes?" he asked me with a small laugh.

"Yeah," I said, "That's a we'll-talk-about-it-tomorrow-when-I'm-not-half-asleep."

He laughed again, then faded into the darkness. I noticed something on the ground. It was… I held it up to the light.

An instrument.

A nice one, at that. It was some sort of flute. I think it was called an ocarina. I shrugged and decided to keep it.

Suddenly tired again, I snuck back in the room, and crashed on my bed, only just remembering to cover up before falling asleep.

LINE BREAK

"Link!"

The voice seemed so far away… and… my pillow was so close… and soft…

"Link! Wake up, you lazy slacker!" the voice said. I think it was Mrs. Kalgenatt…

Suddenly my pillow was pulled out from underneath me, and my blankets were violently ripped off and thrown to the bottom of the bed.

"S' cold…" I murmured sleepily, eyes still shut tight. When I finally woke, Mrs. Kalgenatt was standing over me, and scolded me for going to bed early and then not even waking up on time.

I sat up, changed like everyone else (Mrs. Kalgenatt stepped out for that part), and slipped my backpack over my left shoulder and walked, single-file, out the door and down the hall to the elevators. We were going to Clock Tower.

Someone muttered something about me being a lefty, but as tired as I was, I ignored it. I slung my backpack off my shoulder, unzipped the front pocket, and started rummaging around for my water bottle.

"Where the heck did it go…" I muttered to myself.

Something accidentally fell out of my bag and landed with a soft thud on the ground. It was the ocarina. In the daylight, I noticed it looked kind of blueish. The person standing in line behind me snatched it up and cooed, "Well, what do we have here? Link the Lefty plays a little flute?"

My face flushed red and I tried to grab it from him, but he passed it to the person behind him. It ended up being almost like monkey in the middle, except for the fact that they were making fun of me the whole time, and it was me-versus-all.

Eventually, someone dropped it, and I launched myself onto it, along with about ten other guys, all trying to keep it away from me. The girls were all giggling and laughing, and playing with each other's hair.

Basically, it was a day of torments.

At one point, I caught a break by seeing Ramian in a crowd, and then I used a bathroom excuse to go say hi.

He seemed exceptionally happy. "Link!" he cried. "I'm so glad I found you! Look, I figured out some stuff about the, ahem, mask I… have. I was researching it, and it's called the Fierce Deity Mask. Apparently the Hero of Termina himself used it… to defeat Majora's Mask in a battle to the death."

I froze. My mouth was suddenly very dry. "What did you say?" I hissed.

"I said, the Hero of Termina supposedly used the Fierce Deity Mask to defeat Majora's Mask in a battle to the death." But my fidgety mood was getting to him. He looked over his shoulder.

My mouth opened and closed like a fish. I moistened my lips. "Well, then," I said after pause had stretched, "it's a good thing we have a… a plan… right? I mean… and its not as if one mask could provoke another mask…" But images of Majora's Mask coming alive filled my mind, and it took a huge effort to shove them away.

"Right." He seemed every bit as nervous as I was.

"Okay," I said carefully, "Well, thanks for the tidbit. We could use the as a backup. I think… well, listen." And then I told him everything I knew about Majora's Mask - everything the creepy guide told me.

"So what are you thinking?" Ramian asked me.

"I'm thinking he lied, and that someone - it couldn't have been the Hero of Termina, that was too long ago - used the Fierce Deity Mask to steal Majora's Mask back from… well, Majora's Mask is evil, and so the guide could possibly…" but I trailed off due to the look on Ramian's face. "What is it?" I demanded angrily.

"It's just that that's supposing quite a lot. I somehow don't think the guide could be that involved in treachery. I think he's what he says, and he just wants to keep Majora's Mask away from other evil people."

I raised an eyebrow. "Ramian, how old are you?" I asked.

He looked at me, head cocked to the side. "17."

There was an unspoken question in his eyes, asking my age, and I said, "18. But…"

He cut me off, saying, "You should probably get back to your group."

"Right. But look. Let's bring the Fierce Deity Mask with us tonight when we do our thing. For insurance. I mean… if we have to fight Majora, I'd rather do it with a Fierce Deity that's done it before."

He nodded; then I sped off to the bathroom. For once, I actually had to use it.

LINE BREAK

"I DID IT!" Tommy yelled, marching triumphantly out of the Shooting Gallery. "I BEAT THE GAME!"

Everyone cheered, but I just rolled my eyes. "What level did you beat it on?" I asked loudly. Pretty soon I had people echoing me.

"Yeah, Tommy! Was it on easy?" someone yelled.

"Anyone can beat it on easy!" cried another person.

"Stupid cheating Tommy!"

"Idiot!" screamed Jasmine, wanting revenge for the way-too-true rumors.

"Coward! I bet you didn't even try it on a different level!"

I laughed.

Man, the taste of sweet revenge. Anyway, I decided to give it a try… not many people actually used bows, but one of my foster parents, Mr. Ingo, had a bow and let me borrow it one time. I figured out I was pretty good. "Hey, Tommy," I said in a quiet voice that immediately hushed everyone, "I'll bet you… say, 20 rupees… that I can beat it on medium."

Muted comments rippled through the class. Then a quiet chant started, "Do it! Do it! Do it! Do it! Do it! Do it! Do it…"

"I accept," Tommy said harshly and imperiously.

I grinned at him and then went inside. Everyone was trying to fit. Eventually, almost all the guys were there, waiting to watch and see what would happen.

"Hello there," I said to the shopkeeper. "One game's 20 rupees?"

"Yep," he replied.

"Okay…" I reached into my pocket…

Nothing. Crap. I quickly checked my other pockets. Still none. He whispered to me, "Hey, kid, you can play for free. If you lose, you owe me two days of work and 20 rupees. Deal?"

I pretended not to hear him. I pretended to hand him a red rupee and said, "Hand me that bow, please."

There was a twinkle in his eye as he asked, "What level, young sir?"

"Medium."

"Okay… 3… 2… 1-" I raised the bow in a stance that made it look like I knew exactly what I was doing, which was a big, fat lie, and he called, "GO!"

A rupee-shaped target popped up from the ground, and I nocked, sighted, and released in a fluid moment. The arrow flew through the air and the target shattered on its way down, but I was busy watching for more targets. They came, I shot - I only missed three times, which I think is pretty darn good.

And I hit every single target. One I even hit twice.

I turned around when I heard a sharp whistle, signifying that it was done. Everyone was staring at me with wide eyes.

"He did it," someone murmured in astonishment.

"Left-handed, too," someone else said in awe.

Someone shoved Tommy to the front and he said, "Wow, Link. That was pretty amazing." He bit his lower lip, and then offered me a red rupee. "A bet's a bet. Good job."

Then he walked out, every inch of his body showing the defeat he was feeling.

Slowly, everyone filed out, until I was the last person standing there. "Here's your 20 rupees," I told the shopkeeper.

"Nah, you won it fair and square. Plus, you got guts. And you shot pretty well for your age - how old are you? 17? 18?" I nodded at his last guess. "Normally it takes a 20-year-old to beat it on Medium," he said. "You musta shot a bow before."

"Yeah," I said with a grin. "A, uh, friend of mine let me borrow his bow once."

"Once?!"

"Yeah… anyway, I gotta go… But wait. One more thing." A thought struck me. "How much do bows cost?"

"If they're custom-made, probably around 50-100 rupees. Why?"

"Oh," I was a little crestfallen. No bows for me. "Nothing. I don't have that much, anyway. Just a stupid idea."

"Okay, kid… I'll see ya around."

"Yeah."

I walked out, dejectedly kicking a rock that found its way into the street. I sighed and walked over to the museum, showed the guard my pass, and went in. I wandered around for awhile.

I found myself staring into the dead eyes of Majora's Mask. Heaving a deep sigh, I turned around, facing away from the display case, and take in the scene around me.

More display cases were scattered. The creepy guide had a different group, and he was telling them about the "Goron Mask" and how the Hero of Termina supposedly used that, too. A little boy was tugging on his mother's sleeve, asking if she would take him to the bathroom, and a tourist group wearing Deku Shrub T-shirts walked in, laughing and patting each other's backs. Ramian was walking up to me, but I ignored him until he said, "What are you doing here?"

"Its a public place," I told him, "and plus, we never decided what time to meet tonight."

He rolled his eyes. "We decided last night, remember?"

"I actually don't remember much about last night…"

"Oh," he said, looking a little bit disappointed with me.

"Can we go somewhere free to sleep the rest of the day off? I think we'd better sleep before the, uh, escapade, don't you?"

"Maybe," he said uncertainly. "I think I know a place… it's kind of broken down, but…" he let the sentence hang, unfinished.

"Sounds like my kind of place," I said with a tired grin.

He grinned back, and started leading me through the winding streets of Clock Town. After a few minutes, even my good sense of direction had me confused. "Are you doing this on purpose?" I asked him. "Trying to confuse me?"

"Did it work?"

"Um, yes."

"Then yes," he said, glancing over his shoulder with a smile.

LINE BREAK

We arrived. I tripped when going up the stairs, probably because I was having trouble keeping my eyes open. Ramian didn't seem tired until he miscalculated the distance between the top step and the next floor, sending him sprawling as well.

"You okay?" I helped him stand up.

"Yeah, I'll be fine."

"Okay."

He led me through a door that was still on it's hinges. "We can stay in this room," he whispered. I looked at him through half-closed eyes.

"Okay," I muttered. "Good plan."

We both crashed on the bed. I didn't even set my internal alarm, which was the biggest mistake of my life.

Well, one of the biggest…

LINE BREAK

Sunlight filtered through the broken window. I sat up, stifling the huge need to yawn. I looked over and saw Ramian, passed out cold on the other side of the twin-sized mattress.

I blinked sleepily, trying to remember events from yesterday…

My eyes widened in shock as I remembered.

OH CRAP! I'm dead I'm dead I'm dead I'm SO dead…

First problem: I wasn't back for dinner yesterday, so Mrs. Kalgenatt was probably going to kill me for that; second problem, we waaaay overslept and so never even got the chance to break into the Termina National Museum. Third problem: Mrs. Kalgenatt, since I didn't show up all night, probably had a heart attack and called the police.

Wait, was it just me or were there sirens in the distance? I shut my eyes halfway.

Please tell me this is just a dream.

Ramian's eyes fluttered open. His dark brown hair was sticking up in multiple directions, tangled and frizzy. "Whaz goin' on…?" he said sleepily, and then fell face-first back into the mattress.

I sat down on the floor, wincing as my behind connected with something already there. "What the?" I stood up and picked up the offending object.

It was the blue ocarina. I pulled it to my lips and played a soft note. F.

I glanced at Ramian, who was still asleep. I closed my eyes and played another note. D. Now why did that sound so familiar…

I let myself get absorbed in the music.

F, D, F, D, A, F, A, F… B, A, A, D, B, A, F… I played a couple more tunes, and then composed them all into one song. I opened my eyes and looked at Ramian, who in turn was staring, eyes wide open in shock, at me.

"Wow," he breathed. "I've never heard someone play the ocarina so beautifully… what song was that?"

"I'm not sure," I admitted. "But… it just feels… right, somehow."

"How'd you get my ocarina?" he asked me in an astonished tone.

"This is yours?"

"I thought it was gone for good," he said, staring at my beaten-up old brown boots. "I realized it was gone yesterday, and figured I must have dropped it."

"Sorry," I said, moving to give it back to him.

"Nah, s'okay." He paused, not taking the instrument from me yet. "You can… Um, can you play another song?" he asked me.

I shot him a half smile and played: A, D, F, A, D, F. I played it again, higher, and then added a little piece to it.

And then, to my surprise, sparks fluttered from the ocarina. Everything flashed white, and then it disappeared as suddenly as it had appeared. I yanked the ocarina away from my mouth in surprise. "What the heck?!"

"What did you do?!" Ramian said in an unusually high-pitched voice.

"I just played a song!"

"What song?" he demanded.

"I don't know! Just some random notes…" I trailed off. What had happened? He then ordered me to teach him the song. "Why do you want to know it?" I asked him. "It's my song."

"My ocarina."

"My song!"

"Give me the ocarina," he said forcefully. I glared at him, but finally handed it over to him and showed him how to play those specific notes - just the basic ones, A, D, F, and then told him to repeat that. He did it wonderfully. But nothing happened when he played it.

"How come it didn't work?" Ramian pouted.

"Oh, shut up," I said. "I'm just special.

These was silence as we both tried to figure it out.

"I think I figured it out," Ramian said slowly, staring at the ocarina in disbelief.

And then Ramian told me the story of the Hero of Time, and how he had to save a world called Hyrule - a world parallel to Termina.

We spent the whole morning talking.

Ramian finally came to the conclusion that I was the Hero of Time's - or possibly the Hero of Termina's - descendant (take your pick, it was apparently the same person at different ages…).

I stared at him in a stunned silence.

Ramian tossed me the Fierce Deity Mask. "If all of that's true," he said, "this is is rightfully yours. And the legends about the Hero of Termina are true, too, so… all the stuff in the museum - the other masks and artifact thingies - are yours."

A smile slowly spread across my face. "Guess we'll have to be like the creepy guide man, and take matters into our own hands."

"I call the zora mask!" he said instantly.

"No fair!"

"You get Fierce Deity, I get zora. It's fair."

I rolled my eyes and muttered, "Hardly. All this stuff's mine anyway," but Ramian was chatting away and going down the half-broken stairs cheerfully.

And that night, the night of the third and final day, we broke into the Termina National Museum.