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The boys who all shared the same name, had finally caught a rare moment to rest.
When the boys stepped out of the portal and realized they had arrived in Time’s Hyrule, soft, fluffy snow was already drifting down from the night sky. A thick blanket of frost coated the land, turning everything in sight into a sea of white.
They had just finished a long and grueling battle—clothes filthy, bodies exhausted. Caught off guard by the cold snow beneath their feet, they all shivered violently, their noses and ears turning bright red.
So when they finally reached Lon Lon Ranch, it felt like a great release. They bathed in hot water, shared a simple dinner, chatted briefly with Malon, and then, each dragging their weary body, flopped onto beds and slipped into sleep almost as fast as their brother Sky would.
Time, of course, was no exception.
He cherished this rare chance to lie in bed beside his wife. And naturally, he was exhausted too—when he took off his armor, heavy as ever, he even let out a relieved sigh.
Perhaps that’s why, on this night, he slept especially deeply with his arms around Malon. So deep, in fact, that when knocking on the window woke him early the next morning, for a moment he thought he was still dreaming.
"Time, Time! I’m sorry to wake you—really! But I need to ask you something really important, please!”
It was the sailor’s voice—normally cheerful and bright, now trembling with rare fear and unease.
Malon was already gone. She had mentioned she would be heading to town with her father to deliver goods.
Time sat upright the instant he recognized the distress in the boy’s voice. He opened the window and saw Wind’s face—red from the cold, nose sniffling.
“What’s wrong, Sailor?”
Wind looked like he was about to cry. Though he was a Hero who had once saved Hyrule, he was still just a child. His nose wrinkled, tears clung to the corners of his eyes, trembling on the verge of falling.
“Time… that, that snow-covered mound behind the barn—what is it?”
A mound?
Time furrowed his brow slightly as he thought, then answered:
“That’s compost, Sailor. We pile hay, Cuccos and cows’ droppings, food scraps all together and let it ferment. In spring, we mix it into the fields so the crops and grass grow better.”
With each word, Wind’s face changed color—fear, horror, then a touch of rage—until finally he threw his head back and shrieked:
“Wild! You have to stop Wild! Everyone’s gonna die!”
Time launched out of bed at once, hurriedly grabbed a coat, and bolted toward the barn.
If words could describe the scene, it resembled a battlefield.
The boys were smeared with grime, surrounded by snowballs, wielding anything they could find as shields—buckets, wooden lids, and even Legend was gripping a pitchfork.
“You’re just jealous I found the perfect ammo dump!”
Wild’s voice rang out, triumphant. Time could see their cook standing tall on top of the snow-covered compost heap, clutching a snowball that was... disturbingly brownish.
“You’re jealous I claimed this spot! I can just scoop up ammo by the handful while you guys are still digging around on the ground!”
“No no no, Wild, I’m begging you, you’re today’s winner, just put that thing down!”
Twilight, who clearly had farming experience, looked as pale as Wind.
“Get down! Everything you’ve thrown stinks like a goddamn exploded toilet! Do you even know what you’re doing?!”
Legend was screaming, and Wild, having spent the whole morning gleefully waging snowball war, showed no signs of slowing down.
He hurled his putrid snowball at Legend, who ducked just in time—
—and the ball struck Time, dead center in the face, black as thunder.
Silence fell.
“…Oh no.”
The smallest boy, hiding in the farthest corner, let out a stunned sound. Four shrank even further behind the wooden boards, his eyes flickering with changing colors.
“We’re so dead.”