Copyright disclaimer: I pinky promise that I do not own the Legend of Zelda franchise or anything related to it respectively. Do you think I have enough money for that? Fat chance, sister. You're funny.

PROLOGUE

In an insignificant and nameless place sits an insignificant and nameless child reading a rather significant book that, coincidentally, has a name. As the nameless adolescent flips the pages yellowed and falling apart with age, a sudden stop occurs. Eyes catch the angelic figure of a hero, thrusting his sword toward the heavens against many malevolent foes. "Is it a moving picture book?" the child wonders. No, they reckon. It is much too old for such an innovation. With wide eyes and a mouth to match, the juvenile watches in wonder as our hero, clad in green, strikes down his enemies. The youngster does not understand why he begins to sob as the hero suddenly vanishes from the pages. Confused, the young child shuts the book, revealing a worn cover embellished with a silver triangle, made of three others: a triforce.

Time is strange, don't you agree?

CHAPTER 1: Exordium

"Detective, take a look at this," a quiet voice piped up barely withholding the disgust and pulling me from my thoughts, though only slightly. The mid-summer heat made me feel lightheaded, and I had to close my eyes for a moment to let the spell of dizziness pass. Fledge ran up to me, seemingly unfazed by the oppressing heat of the city. The other detectives investigating the scene rolled their eyes in distaste as he passed. He held up a small plastic bag with a dismembered finger covered in almost-dry blood and turned to Karane, asking her to check off the next item on our list. His voice quavered, as if he were on the verge of tears. She made a face at him and huffed, annoyed by his behavior.

"Could you act any more like a teenage girl, Fledge? We aren't here to dress up and play pretend. We're here to find the remains of a dismembered corpse. If you didn't want to be involved in these things, you shouldn't have signed up for the job. You are a forensic scientist. If you're going to vomit, I will find you a bucket. Get it together." Fledge nodded nimbly and murmured something like an apology.

"Now," Karane said, "Go and find the other parts or we'll be here again next week looking for you." As she said this, a few normal citizens of Skyloft City passed by, and all did a double-take, but continued walking. It was evident in their posture that they were confused. Fledge made as if he were about to speak but Karane sighed like she was exasperated beyond repair, checked a box off the list on her clipboard, and turned back to the rubble of the building.

A's Castle for Wayward Women was an old two-story building in the historic district of Skyloft City. The founder, a woman who went by the pseudonym A, took in prostitutes, drug addicts, sickly and homeless women. Naturally, when they come to her they are still tangled in with their pasts and bring a myriad of trouble. A young single mother was classified as missing for three weeks, and someone found an ear in the trash bin and a toe in the china cabinet. After the detectives of SkyCorp were enlisted to investigate the case, it was ascertained that the missing woman had indeed been severed into almost unrecognizable pieces. While the forensics team tried to find any kind of evidence of the killer, Zelda, the CEO of SkyCorp, had her best detectives search for the remaining pieces through the rubble of the castle. It had been abandoned the day before it collapsed into the ground from age and there was no trace of A or her Wayward Women.

When the sun had begun to set and the humidity in the air dropped, leaving the city chilling under its sweat, all of the missing body parts, save for the right eye of the woman—which was said to have been stabbed out with a fork—were found. During our search, we found bloody rags, a baseball bat, and a variety of torture weapons. The list of suspects was narrowed down to the victim's boyfriend and A, the founder of the Castle for Wayward Women, though there were many opinions as there was a group of detectives all with different virtues. As we were walking back to SkyCorp headquarters, their whispers did not evade me:

"I can't believe Boss makes us work together in a group every other month. What the hell? The superiors should have given us the good positions."

"I agree," someone whispered, holding in laughter. "They're probably too busy having their heads stuck up their asses to do anything about it though."

Next to me, Karane was mumbling curses under her breath and absolutely brooding. When we arrived in the office, she took the elevator in an angry rush, shoved her clipboard at Fledge when she got to her floor, and disappeared before the doors closed again. The next twenty-something floors the elevator passed consisted of Fledge and I in silence while he fidgeted with his box of evidence and I stood with my hands in my pants pockets. He kept opening and closing his mouth as if he had something to say.

"Link," he finally said, just as the elevator stopped on Boss' floor. I exited the elevator, turned, and smiled at him.

"Yes?" He seemed flustered, and began to sputter out incoherent fragments of sentences. He looked at everything but me, but the doors began to close.

"I—" he began as the doors shut with some sort of finality.

Two knocks on the tall wooden doors elicited a strong "Enter" from those on the other side. I pushed the heavy oak open and walked into Zelda's office.

There were rumors about Boss, but the least terrifying one was about her office. A popular myth about SkyCorp was that the reason the only chair in the president's office was behind her desk was because she never invited people in for talks more than two minutes. Fledge told me this on one of the many days he sat in my office and ate lunch, uninvited.

"Link," the president said with a polite smile. She sat with her back to the nighttime city, and, her personal bodyguard Impa stood next to her, almost completely still.

"Well?" She said, skipping the formalities. "Results?"

"The evidence will be completely analyzed by tomorrow."

"Any ideas on the identity of the murderer?"

"No, I've already solved it," I said simply.

"Great. Have it filed by next month. I will have Fi brief you on your next case. Have a nice night."

I began to leave, but heard Impa whispering furiously into the president's ear. I stopped and turned to Impa. "It was her son," I said. "The eight-year old." I left, with Impa's confused voice trailing behind me.

We were a rather unorthodox operation.

The moment the front doors of SkyCorp closed behind me, my phone began ringing loudly. I hurriedly rummaged through my pockets to pick it up, though I had no need to rush. The only person that I would ever get a call from is my secretary Fi, who was the only person with my phone number. I found my phone in my back pocket and answered.

"Here is your debriefing, sir," Fi said immediately.

"Good evening," I said cheerily. She continued. "We have gained a few leads on the drug bust that was up for investigation," she said monotonously.

"I thought Stritch and Cawlin were going to investigate?" I said, beginning to walk in the direction of my apartment complex.

"And I also heard that they weren't moving for a few months," I said, leaning down at the crosswalk to tighten the shoelaces of my Oxford shoes while I waited for cars to pass.

"This is true," she said simply. I straightened up as I hadn't noticed the presence of two young men standing behind me. They had a strange feel about them, as if they were laughing. However, they were in a heated argument.

"It's not that big of a freaking deal," the one on my left said. He was much calmer than the man on my left, who shouting almost incoherently. The timbre of his voice was somewhat familiar, but I couldn't place it. The light changed and we all walked across the street. I kept a leisurely pace and they walked past me, still arguing. The man on the left bumped shoulders with me and turned back.

"Sorry," he said with an apologetic smile. "No problem," I said. "Boss, we're late as it is!" the other man shouted.

He turned back around and said "See you later" over his shoulder, picking up his pace to catch up with his apparent subordinate.

I continued walking, watching them as they disappeared around a corner and brought my phone to my ear. I had subconsciously put it in my pocket when I sensed the two men behind me. "Fi?"

"To answer your question more thoroughly, our predictions indicate they will act in four months."

"Is it the South?" I asked.

"We think so. Opium."

"I figured."

"When you gather sufficient evidence, report to the intelligence department. The company would like you to continue on your other open cases as this one is extensive."

"I understand. Thank you."

"Be sure to eat protein, sir."

"Yes, yes, thank you, Fi." She hung up then, and I put my phone in my back pocket. Fi was the best secretary I'd ever had, and the only one. Before she started working for me, I took all of my calls and organized all my cases, but work was much easier with her in charge of everything technical. I was grateful I found her in the alleyway in the drenching rain, clutching a sheathed sword that she would later give to me with a cryptic phrase like, "This was always yours." I never asked any questions about her life before she came to Skyloft, and she certainly didn't answer. Somehow, she always knew where I was and what my physical health was like, and had incredibly accurate premonitions about things that hadn't happened yet. She didn't speak much at first, after I found her a place to live and set her up a job as my secretary, she quickly became acclimated—that isn't to say that she was a very talkative person, of course...

I stopped at the convenience store before going home and picked up a carton of milk, two Snickers bars, two pears, and a twenty-four pack of water. The cashier looked at me like I was crazy when I easily plopped the water on my shoulder and held it up with one hand. I gave her extra change on purpose and walked the rest of the way back home, whistling a song I'd heard once in my youth.

My apartment was small, quiet, and nondescript. It was on the second floor, not too high for when the need arose for me to jump out of the window.
And the need had arisen more than you'd think.

The features of my studio apartment were as thus: a small kitchen, a mattress, a wooden desk, a living room where it sat, a rolling office chair, a wooden chair, a closet, an empty bedroom, a bathroom, and a window in which I was immensely proud of and spent much of my time in front of. Of course, there were a few other things, but I figure they aren't important enough to share (unless, of course, you'd like to know how many pairs of boxers I have). The picture window took up one half of the wall, and it faced the city streets. I spent hours seated in my wooden chair, watching the world turn beneath my feet; today was no exception. The clear sky had given way to a heavy downpour and the people of the city ran around frantically trying to find cover until the streets were only dotted with people smart enough to bring umbrellas. There were a few brave souls who went out with nothing but hoods, hands, or briefcases, scurrying their way down the street. Watching the citizens of a place I love so much, my mind wandered back to those two men I'd seen earlier:

who are you
who
walks with a cadence like
a rioting
song in a
calming timbre
back curved like
you've
got nothing to do
and
nowhere to
go
but
could it
be
that you've
done everything and
been everywhere?

I watched the rain until the sun rose and the clouds cleared, and still, they were on my mind.

Author's note: Hello, dear shippers of Ghiralink! My name's unimportant (aka hxlxx, pronounce it as you will) but I'm here to make you happy. Or something. I don't really like AU fanfics, would you believe that? And here I am. Writing a fanfic by request of my best friend. What a world. Anyway, I'm hoping to make this 100 chapters (and I promise longer chapters, I just suck at beginnings which is why this is so short) and have at least 8 sex scenes already planned out. Be psyched. Be very psyched. I accept all kinds of feedback! Especially hate mail. Sometimes a gal needs a good cry. Thank you for reading, and happy holidays!