Never Without You │ BOTW modern AU fanfic

A Dead Sparrow On The Pavement

Pik's POV.

I can't believe this is happening to me...

My hands search the sand for the hundredth time without any luck. I dropped it somewhere around here, I'm sure of it! Where in the prodigal's purse did it go!?

Resisting the pressing urge to just shuffle the sand with hectic and emotional movements, knowing full well that I would only bury it deeper than I probably already have, becomes more and more challenging by the second.

I clench my jaw with force and cover both my eyes with the palms of my hands, cursing and wailing to myself in hushed tones.

"Tears don't prove you function!" I hiss so furiously and so full of spite that rising nausea tickles my throat! "Such cynical comedy will only be met with ridicule. You are able to shed tears but are useless in the demand of sight! Curse you, eyes! Both of you! Just rot in the marrow caves of my skull!"

I hate them! Nugatory detritus... Can't even serve their one and only purpose!

I should write that down. I could turn it into a song, provided I find my plectrum! Ugh! I can't believe I lost it! Maybe I should call Zelda again... No, I can't keep bothering her with this. I shouldn't have told her about my retinal detachment in the first place.

I bet she's with Link right now. It sounded like she was driving. Maybe they are on a date or returning from one. I shouldn't rely on her to solve my childish problems anyway. She has better things to do than search the beach in place of my incompetent self. And my sight isn't coming back so... sooner or later I have to find a way to deal with this on my own, I just wish sooner wasn't right this moment.

I brush my tear-stained palms over the fine surface of the sand one last time before lying down on my back, feeling hopeless at last. Dum spiro spero my ass, this ancient phrase should have been dum video spero. Hope can only flourish when there is something to look forward to, but I can't look forward to anything!

I think what's even more frustrating than losing my pick is that even if it was lying in plain sight, I wouldn't see it with my defective eyes. It could be right in front of me, inches from where I've been searching... I will never find it.

My favorite pick, caught at my very first concert, and signed by my most adored idol, my greatest inspiration... gone. Just like that.

I aim my tired eyes at the sky. It's dark. The sun has set and a cool breeze is ruffling my hair. I blink a couple of times, trying to make out any shapes aloft but I'm pretty confident that there aren't any clouds to spot. Squinting at the darkness, I long to see the stars.

My heart is aching now! Even before the evanescence of my eyesight, I longed for their presence in the city's night sky but somehow... knowing that I will never get a chance to see them again, as crisp and spellbinding as I used to, only intensifies the desire to see them once more.

I wish the stars were the only thing I missed. But every day I find new wonders worthy of poems. More things I will only see in my memories moving forward. And all these things come with many little heartbreaks. The number of heartbreaks has grown to such painful degrees that I am convinced I am physically suffering from the emotional strain.

Can a human die of heartache? If so, I believe it to be a fitting death for me.

An artist without sight... What am I if I can no longer capture the beauty of life with my own eyes? My eyes were the transcribers that would tell my hands what to paint and my lips what to compose.

When all that's left are memories, I will be stuck in the past, too scared to move forward in life. I will be just as nugatory as the two detritus' sitting in the marrows of my skull.