guess whos being inconsistent again
spoiler alert: its me
but wow u reviewers just make me cry ur so nice omfg
also this one might get a sequel so yee

It wasn't a regular thing, him playing at the Lumpy Pumpkin. It wasn't that he didn't like it (he didn't, but that's beside the point), just more along the lines of he did it when he absolutely had to.

Essentially, that equated to: whenever he was in Pumm's debt. Including when he may have accidentally broke the expensive-looking chandelier (in Link's defense though, there was a heart piece up there and there was no way in hell he wasn't gonna get it).

He didn't even know why he had to play the stupid harp anyway, hardly anyone ever showed up in the pub anyway. And the few people who did certainly didn't do it to hear him.

With a forlorn (and totally over-the-top dramatized) sigh, Link let his eyes scan over the scattered people littering the place; fingers absentmindedly plucking out a soft melody. Kina's not-too-awful-but-not-very-appealing-either voice sang out along with the music.

The hero mentally noted that she was frighteningly sharp-what, he had an ear for music, all real men do.

His partner was just starting in on the chorus, and his gaze was snaking along the edges of the room yet again when he froze.

Literally froze: his hand pausing in its strumming, his body ceasing its light swaying.

It lasted for just a fraction of a second before he kicked himself back into action, too short for anyone in the audience to have actually noticed anything. Except for maybe one person, a person who was painstakingly familiar and who, in sense, brought with him a prickling (almost comforting, by now) feeling of wariness.

Ghirahim was near the bottom of the staircase, leaning back against the wall with his arms crossed, looking by all means as if he owned the place.

Link glanced again around the room – either no one else saw and noticed him (maybe they just didn't know who he was though, since it would have been near impossible for anyone to just miss him, with his bright red curtain-cape and whatnot), or they were all just too busy drowning their sorrows in pumpkin juice.

His brow was furrowed, staring directly at the teen with such clarity, precision, intensity. If he were any other person, Link would have thought he was angry. Link wasn't any other person though (something he prided himself in), and he could easily see, even from the distance that Ghirahim's jaw was lacking the subtle clench that always tightened it when he was angry.

Instead, he looked almost…contemplative. Neck deep in some serious shit, and only sinking further.

His own blue gaze widened for just a second before darting down, a strange sort of queasy feeling rolling in his stomach and his face unnaturally warm (which made no sense – he wasn't embarrassed, was he? Nervous?).

Determinedly not looking anyway except the golden harp in his grip, he focused what was left of his concentration (read: not a lot) on playing. Still though, he could feel that dark gaze bearing down on him; and if he were carbon, the weight of it probably would have turned him into a diamond.

Kina had just closed up with her lyrics, which meant Link's part was nearly done too, and then he'd have nothing to distra – sorry, otherwise redirect his attention from the self-proclaimed demon lord.

He risked a glanced back up just as the song ended, and blinked rapidly when he thought he saw what looked like a serene smile playing at those white lips.

Was probably just the distance playing tricks on him, though.

What wasn't anything playing tricks on him was when, a second later, Ghirahim was gone completely, save for a few stray diamonds from whatever magic he used.

A dislocated whisper brushed against his ear, and that's what Link blamed the shiver that rippled through his body on. It was definitely not because of what was said, definitely not the hushed, "Play for me again, sky child."

Link had a terrible feeling this-whatever it was-wasn't over yet.