Never Without You │ BOTW modern AU fanfic

Eternal Riddler

Pik's POV

Leaning my arms on the railing of the fire escape, I find myself yearning for a mere glimpse of the city lights before me.

I take another sip from the beer, acutely aware of its unrefined taste. When you're deprived of sight, your heightened senses often expose the lack of sophistication in everyday experiences. A fine wine might have been a better choice tonight.

"Feel better?" Link asks, sitting on the fire escape steps behind me. I continue to face the black void, lost in my thoughts.

"The fresh air certainly helps," I reply, a feeble breeze delicately tousling my hair. "Apologies for succumbing to emotion earlier."

"It's all good, man. This whole going-blind thing would be tough for anyone," Link reassures, his straightforward words contrasting the complex emotions swirling within me. "It takes time to adjust. Nobody expects you to handle it with a smile."

"Yeah..." I sigh, the weight of my reality settling in again. The distant hum of the city serves as a constant reminder. I can hear cars honking, people laughing, passionate street music.

The world, once vibrant and rich with colors, has now been reduced to sounds, scents, and textures. I miss the subtle hues of golden hour and the vivid palette of my own artworks. Blindness is not just the absence of sight; it's a shift in the way I perceive existence. My fingertips trace the metal of the railing, still warm from the sun, searching for familiarity in the tactile. Yet it can never replace the visual poetry I once reveled in. My fingers stop when I come across some chipped coating. Or perhaps it's rust. People hate rust, meanwhile I'd give my right arm for a quick look at it. Even just for a minute.

I halt my thoughts. This is the reality I grapple with, and no amount of philosophical pondering or comforting breeze can fully alleviate the ache that resides within.

Link breaks the silence. "You know, back in the day, I thought I had to handle everything on my own too. But sooner or later you'll realize that it's okay to share the load. Especially with your friends." I hear some shuffling behind me, the fire escape quivering slightly below my feet, and suddenly a hand grips my shoulder. "That includes me," he says, now standing right next to me.

I turn my head in his direction. "You consider us friends?"

He's hesitant to answer, but after thinking it over, he lets go of my shoulder, leaning against the railing like me. "Sure. Friend's look out for each other, right?"

I manage a small smile. "Indeed."

We stand in companionable silence for a moment, listening to the city's comforting rhythm.

"So," Link takes a small breath. "That afterlife theory of yours... How'd you come up with it?"

I chuckle, the sound bearing a blend of self-amusement and acceptance. "Contemplation tends to accompany the theory. I've had ample time for philosophical musings lately."

Link leans back, possibly gazing into the night. "Ever think about expressing your art even without sight? You've got this unique perspective now, right?"

His words linger in the air, prompting contemplation. "Traditionally, art was perceived as a visual medium."

"Traditionally," he scoffs. "So what?"

"I do find myself questioning that premise. Art is about emotions and experiences."

"Exactly."

"I've been trying to create art that people can feel with their hearts instead of just seeing it. Like music and literature. Painting with emotions, so to speak."