courage - a trans girl link fic

• 2 - narrow •

As the hot water poured over Link's body, he felt his arm sting as the water assaulted his cut arm and blood-diluted water slipped into the drain. Lifting his head, he scanned the products littering the shower's shelves. A loofah for each person and several gendered body washes and hair products. Of course they were gendered, what wasn't nowadays? Link reached for the men's body wash apprehensively before stopping just short of the bottle. "Would the girls notice if I used a bit of theirs instead..?" He muttered, the sound overtaken by the cascading water. "Just a dime size amount. Nothing more." He settled, switching sides of the shower and grasping a mint green bottle that smelled lightly of flowers. He uncapped and squeezed the bottle, allowing a minuscule dollop of soap to drop onto his green loofah. Beginning to wash, Link felt.. conflicted. He felt somewhat liberated to be using a preferable scent of soap, but at the same time he felt like he was lying, stealing even. He wasn't a girl, and this wasn't for him. He was taking the resources  of people who were born with the right to use this stuff.. It felt ridiculous to be thinking that- like taking a shower was treason- but nonetheless, Link felt definite shame.

Shutting off the water, Link stepped out from behind the curtain and into the steam of the rest of the bathroom. Wrapping a towel around his chest and letting it drape the rest of the way down, he thrush open the bathroom door to find Nabooru standing by the door stoically with crossed arms. Stalling for a moment before walking past, Link headed for his room. "You smell nice." Nabooru spoke, splitting the silence. Link froze. "Almost familiar."
Shit.
Link was still, frantically grasping for excuses in his mind as Nabooru waited for a response. "If you're gonna use my shit, you could at least ask first." She said, shutting down the conversation and entering the bathroom.

Link stumbled into his dark bedroom, heart hammering like an insane drumbeat.
"If Maron or Saria had figured out instead of Nabooru they definitely would've pressed for answers."
Link thought, mind racing with disastrous possibilities.
"They'd have hated me. Groose would have beat my face in. Fledge would probably have been creeped out."
He spiraled into exaggeration before a reminder on his phone buzzed. If he wanted to keep on schedule, he'd have to start getting ready. He had work today.

Pulling on the simple uniform of jeans and a t-shirt with a pumpkin on the front, Link pocketed his phone and set out for work. He didn't have a car, but he did have a crappy bike chained up in front of the orphanage. Unhooking the chain and sliding onto it, he began trekking to his job at the pub- the Lumpy Pumpkin. Link thought the name was unappetizing, but the owner, Pumm, disagreed. "It's too late anyhow; sign's already up, isn't it?" He'd always say. He was proud of that sign. His daughter, Kina, had painted it not more than a few months ago. Kina was an artistic sort, with a lovely voice and her black hair streaked with unnatural grays. It seemed like she couldn't let a few sentences pass without letting out a cryptic phrase or two. Her dark brown eyes seemed to know everything, scanning every item and person in a room at least three times before settling down. Her father, however, was the exact opposite. Pumm was a jolly soul— portly, with a bulbous dark red nose and a scruffy mustache. This was topped off with a ponytail and a perfect palette. Honestly, Link could never find a better cook than Pumm. He constantly served perfections out of nothing, seemingly without trying— the jury was still out on whether or not Kina had inherited this gift.

Pulling in front of the Lumpy Pumpkin, Link chained his bike to a lamppost and walked inside.
Within moments, he was overtaken by the homey lights, the thick and delicious scent of Pumm's signature pumpkin soup, and the light hearted banter of the breakfast patrons crowding the tables and bars.

"SMITH!" Pumm's hearty voice bellowed through the room. "GOOD TO SEE YOU ON TIME! GET IN THE KITCHEN, HUH KID?" Link wasn't sure that guy had ever whispered before in his life. He definitely appreciated the use of his last name as opposed to his first. With a chuckle, he tied on a small apron and headed for the kitchen

The kitchen was comforting, with rustic wooden countertops and a beat up old stove and dishwasher. Cabinets filled with spices, ingredients, and foods filled every wall of the room, with Pumm likely being the only one able to navigate them fully. Even Kina, who had lived here since she was born, had troubles navigating the labyrinthine cabinets. Sliding open the shade separating the bar from the kitchen, Link got to work.

His skill with cooking had definitely increased since he started working here, but he was no Pumm. Mixing together the famous pumpkin soup, Link began to simultaneously begin to cook up a toasted sandwich for another gentleman patron. A flurry, he assembled multiple dishes at once, setting them out for Kina to deliver. Kina stopped him at one point, speaking in her cryptically soothing voice.

"Be careful not to strain yourself, working as you are. God knows you've hurt yourself more than enough today."
She gently patted his arm, the same he'd torn open that morning.
Link laughed nervously, rubbing his arm. "I-I'll be fine. Order up for table 4?" He said weakly, handing her a sandwich on a platter. Giving Link a knowing glance that he definitely didn't like, Kina left the kitchen.

Unable to shake the paranoia of being found out, Link moved at a slower pace for the rest of the day.
Leaving the pub at the end of the day, Link headed for his bike, only to find a loose chain on the ground.
Great.
Settling with the bus, Link found himself waiting on a beige bench in front of a bus stop.
As the bus prattled to a stop, spitting out cloudy fumes, Link boarded and dropped his fare in the box.
Full to the brim.. swell.
Scanning the bus, he found one seat left next to a girl in a thin pastel pink sweater.
"Could I sit here?"
The girl turned to look at him and smiled, her blonde hair shifting to her other side.
"Of course."
They sat silently for a few moments, before the girl broke the silence.
"My name is Zelda. It's nice to meet you."
She reached out for a handshake.
Link smiled, reaching out to reciprocate.
"I'm, uh, Link. Nice to meet you too."
They shook hands, before being distracted by an ominous glow.
Looking down at their joined hands, they saw two identical stacks of three triangles on the back of their hands, though Link's stack had a more accentuated and glowing triangle on the right, while Zelda had a more accentuated triangle on the left of the stack.  Looking at each other with a similar confused face, Link and Zelda slowly separated, beginning to stare at their hands.
"Was this.. you?"
Link asked, tracing the triangles with his right hand index finger.
"No.. it wasn't you?"
"No..."
Zelda rubbed at her triangles.
"I knew about this, but.. me?"
"What do you m-"
Link wasn't able to finish his sentence before the bus exploded.