Chapter Text
“—and that should be the last of your bags. You need anything else?”
Amy turns away from the college-issued desk she was making her own, and beams at Knuckles, “Nope! That should be everything!”
Knuckles lies down on the floor, sprawled out, and closes his eyes. “Good. Going up three flights of stairs to get to this room is exhausting.”
“Ah, sorry! I really appreciate your help, though, I thought from freshman year I would’ve figured out a more efficient way of moving things, but it looks like I still needed your help,” she says, adjusting the lamp she bought to give the room more warm-lighting. She was heavily influenced by the aesthetic videos that have been making their way around on social media, gushing about the coziness the light brings to a dorm room.
“Eh, it’s all good, it’s what friends are for.”
Amy met Knuckles through Sonic and Tails way back when they were imagining adventures for themselves in the setting of Green Hill. And while Amy and Knuckles are friends, there’s no doubt there, she would go as far as describing their relationship similar to siblings. They tease about each other’s physical strengths (sometimes it’s in good fun, sometimes it gets heated), they spar with each other, they confide in each other, and they’re there for each other. Knuckles is a stable constant in her life, and she wouldn’t have it any other way.
“Well, I guess since ‘friends’ help each other out for free, then you probably don’t want any of the cookies I baked for move-in—”
“Where are the cookies?”
Amy giggles and points to the corner of bags she had Knuckles carry up, “They’re in that plastic bag over there.”
“Score!” Knuckles finds the bag quickly and practically inhales the cookies. “Fanks, Emee.”
While Knuckles fills his stomach with cookies, Amy busies herself with unpacking her things and setting up her room to be just right.
Cotton-candy pink sheets and fuchsia cover are set up on the bed to the right side of the room; dresser is filled to the brim with her cute pajamas (as well as regular, boring loungewear for the days when Amy just wants to stay inside), stylish pants, adorable skirts, and undergarments; desk is decorated with gifts from friends (her favorite is the poorly-made clay statues the boys made for her on her birthday: a statue that was supposed to resemble a pink flicky, but looks a lot closer to a skinned chicken that looks horrified at the idea of being served as dinner); and the walls are covered in photos of her and her friends on the various adventures they’ve been on.
It’s perfect.
Last year, Amy dropped the ball with decorating her freshman dorm room. She procrastinated with packing, which stemmed from her refusing to acknowledge that her life isn’t going to be the same as before, and it led to a dreary and frankly, depressing place that Amy dreaded returning to every night. Her roommate, Blaze, had even commented how the room didn’t match Amy’s “sunny disposition.”
But, this year? This year is different!
Amy knows how college works and can actually rebrand herself. She’s going to be extraverted, make friends, join clubs, and find her soulmate! That last one is maybe ambitious, but she’s determined.
“I’m gonna head out, Amy. Be safe and call me if you need anything,” Knuckles calls from the doorway, crumbs still on his face.
“I will!”
“Seriously, if there’re any guys or gals you want me to clobber, just let—”
“Okay, okay! I get it! Just leaveee,” she says, pushing him out the door.
Knuckles stops at the doorway and gives Amy one last bone-crushing hug, smiles, and heads out to return to Angel Island.
Amy sighs, a smile also on her face, and returns to admiring her side of the room. All that’s left to do is for Amy to clean up bits and pieces of trash, remnants of the packages of new things Amy impulsively bought to revamp her dorm room.
Right as she was about to start that process and put on her playlist of summer vibes, Amy hears a wolf whistle.
“Who was that guy?” A fashionable bat asks, leaning against the doorway with a hand on a hip looking towards the direction Knuckles just left. Is this her roommate?
“Uh, are you talking about the guy that just left this room? A red echidna?”
“Yeah, what’s the deal between you two? Lovers? Family? Friends? If you guys are lovers, I’ll back off, but if not then…”
“We are friends! Just friends. He’s like my broth– eugh, just thinking about it makes me want to throw up,” Amy gags, bringing a hand up to her face.
The bat’s eyes never leaving the end of the hallway, purrs, “Let me know when he’s back in town~”
“Uh, I will…”
The bat’s eyes then turn to Amy and she lets out another whistle, though this time that seemed to be in awe. “Wow, love what you’ve done with the place, hon.’”
Amy experiences whiplashes from the sudden change in conversation; from nearly wanting to pounce on her brother-like figure to complimenting Amy’s interior design, Amy isn’t sure if the bat realizes how odd that is.
Regardless, Amy collects herself and the first thing that comes to mind when she gets a better look at the Mobian that is probably her roommate (aside from the abrupt topic change) is that she is cool.
Rouge, the name Amy was given on the housing portal, is dressed quite fashionably.
A leather jacket that glistens in the warm lighting from her lamp and jeans that outline the bat’s figure. All of that paired with combat boots that seem to make Rouge’s presence known. And, not to mention her makeup. The eyeliner is sharp enough to cut a diamond—Amy can only dream to accomplish such sharp and crisp wings. The mascara enhances Rouge’s unapologetic femininity. The blue eyeshadow only brings out the greenness of Rouge’s teal eyes. While Amy personally wouldn’t go with red lipstick, it signals to the world the unbridled confidence the bat has.
Amy looks down at her own clothes—a matching set of dusky pink sweatpants and top—which are cute, but embarrassing in comparison to Rouge’s chic style.
Amy grabs a nearby folded blanket and shakes it out to cover her own outfit. “I’m– I’m glad you think so! We’re going to be living together after all, and I wouldn’t want you to live in a place that you hate or—”
“The lighting is lovely,” The bat enters the room and swipes her finger across the shade of Amy’s lamp, “Where’d you buy it?”
So far, so good. It seems Amy’s won some good will from her roommate!
Amy finishes folding the blanket and, bringing it with her, walks closer to Rouge. “I think I got it on Chao Express or something like that. It was pretty cheap, actually!”
“Huh, guess I’ll have to check that out for next year. Anyways, I’m just here to scout out the place—my things are still back at my parents’ place. I’m gonna head over to a friend’s and help him unpack and be out of your hair,” Rouge walks to the doorway and turns, “I’ll see you around, Amelia.”
“Oh!” Amy stops Rouge, “actually, I go by ‘Amy.’ ‘Amelia’ is my legal name, so…but it’s also not a big deal either! ‘Amy,’ ‘Amelia,’ same difference, right?” She nervously laughs. It’s not a big deal, why did she even bother to correct her? It’s such a small detail—
Rouge grabs hold of Amy’s hands, dissipating any nerves, and looks intently at her, “Not a problem at all, hon.’ I’m sure you know already from the portal, but my name’s Rouge. Probably should’ve done the introductions first, huh?” Rouge smiles.
Amy’s tail wags just a bit; so she’s excited her roommate is genuine and not just a superficial popular girl, sue her!
“It’s really great to meet you, Rouge! I’m looking forward to rooming with you this year!”
“Right back at you,” Rouge flashes a finger gun and a wink. “I’ll see you around, Amy.”
Wow. Rouge is the epitome of cool.
Amy waves Rouge off and returns to her side of the room. Only a couple of finishing touches remain such as adjusting the order of pictures on her walls or where the lamp will provide the most light to the room.
Right as she’s about to move the lamp to the crevice between her loft and desk (for the third time), she hears a bzzt bzzt from her phone.
girlboss: Hello Amy. I have just finished unpacking everything. Would you be available to meet at the Student Center to go for a qalk?
girlboss: *walk
Ah, Blaze and her proper capitalization and punctuation and general formal texting.
Me: of courre! i’m almist done hrre
Me: shoukd we say around 1??
Me: can we wslk ariund campus? tye weathee is soooo nice today!!
girlboss: Yes, that sounds like a plan to me
Me: :DDD
Amy hastily picks up the lamp with one hand with ease and drops it in the space between her bed and desk, nearly tears her pictures off the wall and finds a place that is up to her standards, and turns to her full-length mirror.
If she’s going to be out and about, she might as well dress nicely. Maybe she’ll meet The OneTM!
Hey, Amy never said she wasn’t a hopeless romantic, dreaming of the day she’ll meet her complement. She’s always on the lookout for meet-cutes.
Amy cycles through various combinations of skirts and blouses before landing on a sky blue blouse with frills on the ends of the short sleeves and a black paneled skirt. It’s cute and breezy—perfect for this summer weather!
Amy grabs one of her crocheted bags and runs out the door, excited to see her former roommate!
She reaches the Student Center not long after (the location of her dorm is so convenient; it’s equidistant to every important building on campus!) and sees Blaze in her academic-style clothing, typing away on her phone. Probably answering an email related to her family’s company.
Blaze is dressed in a simple white blouse with black bow neatly wrapped around the collar and perfectly pressed black dress pants. Peeking out from underneath the cuffs of the pants are Blaze’s favorite pair of magenta heels.
“Blaze! Hi!” Amy calls, swinging her hand from side-to-side to get Blaze’s attention.
Blaze looks up and a soft smile immediately grows. “Amy, it is so good to see you after so long.”
Amy quickens her pace to get to Blaze and wraps her in a bear hug. “Ahh, I’ve missed you! How’ve you been? How was your summer?”
“I can’t tell you if you keep squeezing me,” Blaze manages to gasp out, though Amy sees the twinkle in her eyes.
“Fine, fine, I guess I’ll let you go, but don’t think that’ll be the last hug from me,” Amy says, eyeing Blaze, though a grin breaks out and they both burst into laughter.
They start their casual hangout at the Student Center and walked with the intention to head to the central gardens of the campus, but Amy was just absolutely parched from all of the heavy-lifting she had to do, so they go to Caffeine Collision and grab a couple of sweet treats (dropping Amy’s even $400 dining dollars to an ugly $373) and carry on. Then, Blaze suggests they visit their freshman dorm along their way to the central gardens they were finding to not be very central to campus and pass the crumbling building where they spent late nights watching awful rom-coms that Amy would purposefully find to laugh and cry at.
It was only a year ago, those memories, but it feels like an eternity has passed since those days of when Amy was trying to stay afloat all of her work and struggling not comparing herself to her classmates who seem to get all of their crap together. Amy wanted to take advantage of all the opportunities that her peers seem to have found through hours and hours of scouring the college webpages, but Amy was barely surviving.
The transition from her easy, but happy life back at Green Hills to the intense academic environment of Chaos University left her struggling in the deep end.
Amy only had enough energy to reach out to Sonic, Knuckles, or Tails once every couple of weeks. And, of course, spending time with her awesome roommate through low-energy activities. But, other than that, Amy could never muster the energy to join clubs and fit into different circles. She would have to put on a show if she wanted to do that, and she barely had the energy to fit into the roles she made for her friends.
That’s why this year Amy has resolved to not repeat her mistake. She has so much energy to spend to become that person. The person that people will sneer at for talking to the professor about something trivial, but ultimately respect her for. She will become the person that people will faint at hearing her schedule both for her courseload and extracurriculars. She has her whole persona figured out.
“I do not miss these dorms at all,” Blaze muses, interrupting Amy’s inner dialogue.
“Aw, you don’t miss Jerry the Cockroach? He was a blast!”
“If you are referring to the cockroach that I remember you also screaming at upon seeing him in your closet, then no. I don’t miss him at all.” Blaze deadpans.
“Ooh, ooh! Then, what aboooout the black mold in Sticks’ room? That was just so much fun, right?”
“Amy, you developed a cough after visiting Sticks. Actually, did Sticks ever go to the doctor’s after that?”
Amy shakes her head. “You know Sticks and her…ideas of strength. But last I chatted with her, the cough went away, which is good!”
The badger is definitely different from most with her questionable viewpoints on health (something about admitting weakness to the doctor was a hit to the badger’s ego), but held fun sports events every now and then.
“Shall we head to the garden, then?” Blaze asks, throwing away what used to be her $6.29 iced tea into a nearby trash can.
“Sure! I really wanna see what flowers are in season right now!”
The pair walk (well, Amy skips) over to the garden and are met with a gorgeous view.
The first thing the duo see is the college’s grand water fountain, a fountain that was on every paper and brochure Amy received as a freshman, though Amy understands why.
From afar, the fountain appears unassuming. It’s a simple stone fountain the size of the Loop-de-Loop back in Green Hill, with one big basin to collect the cascading water from the two higher up but smaller plates placed above the big basin to collect some of the water. The crystal clear water spouts from the top plate and glides downwards, creating a smooth rippling effect.
That alone is pretty, but it’s the intricate engravings that Amy loves the most about the fountain.
On the base of the basin starts a vine-like pattern, a couple of leaves here, a couple of thorns there. Then, as her eyes follow the vine upwards, the vines begin to grow some buds around the top of the basin. When up close, it seems like that’s where the floral pattern ends, but one time, when Amy was admiring the view after a grueling class, a kind groundswoman told her that the pattern continues up to the highest up cement disk.
What Amy once thought was just grime and chipped off cement, blurred behind the water were many, many, many engraved roses. The groundswoman told her the middle disk used to have engravings as well, but one senior prank went too far and led to smoothing out the disk to have a blank slate and avoid any…inappropriate images for future students to look at.
The groundswoman added that each rose added was a result of couples tying the knot and marrying each other. Apparently, there is a myth that once a rose is engraved, the couple are bound together for life.
Amy will say she is a bit biased, what with her last name relating to roses and her love for love, but even with that, how could she not be drawn to the fountain? It’s beautiful and just romantic.
Amy bounds towards the fountain and submerges her gloved hand into the cool, refreshing water. On a late summer day such as today, the water is particularly revitalizing.
“Ahh, this feels so nice…”
Blaze leans on the rim of the fountain and skims her gloved tips skimming across the surface of the water. “Out of all the things they could be putting time and money into, they put it into this fountain.”
Amy takes her hand out of the water and wrings out the water from the glove (without taking it off because of Mobian customs, of course) and leans against the rim of the fountain with Blaze. “True, but you have to admit, other colleges don’t have a charming garden like ours.”
Amy looks out to the beds of red tulips and yellow daffodils, all gently swaying to the wind. The only sounds interrupting the calm are the quiet chirps of Flickys and the quiet bubbling of the fountain.
This calm reminds Amy of simpler times. The times when she and the gang would go out and play make believe. Sonic was the fastest being in the world, racing to save different areas of Green Hill (which is probably true, now that Amy thinks about it), Tails would tell them the different functions each combination of sticks and leaves had if they pointed it at a pinecone (Tails could definitely create anything with any material he so desires with the scholarship he just won), and Knuckles would arrogantly declare he could smash all rocks in one go, but would ultimately just hurt his hand (he could now easily lift a boulder over his head with a finger and pound it to the ground).
They have all grown so much.
Except Amy, who adapted to whatever role they needed her to be. Some days, she would amp up her affections toward the blue hedgehog when she noticed he had a rough day, or ask questions regarding Tails’ inventions to make sure he felt heard, which was a common occurrence given the age gap, or purposefully taunt her kid brother to get him out of his thoughts and challenge her to a sparring session.
Back then, she didn’t know that maybe, just maybe, that would cause her an identity crisis down the line. To her younger self, it was as easy as breathing. Slipping on a mask and so quickly putting it back down, moulding herself to what she thinks would cheer the boys up because she loves them. It was all out of love…
So maybe in that sense she has grown. She just grew up really early. She was taking care, still is, of her friends.
So why does she feel so cheated? She did something kind and supportive for her friends; if anything, she should feel ecstatic that they’ve all grown up into such lovely individuals and caught up to her.
She knows that if she were to blame anyone, it’s herself. She didn’t have to speed up her own growth for the sake of others—really, she should’ve let an adult handle it. But no one did. Someone should’ve noticed, right? Someone should’ve told her that she didn’t have to grow up so quickly.
And, obviously, the personas she catered to Sonic, Tails, and Knuckles were exaggerated and based on some seedling of her personality, but it’s just…
If she were to go on a personality quiz right now, she wouldn’t know what three adjectives to describe her complex self.
She could go with the generic “kind,” “thoughtful,” and “energetic” traits, but it doesn’t sit right with her. What if those were part of the mask she’s accidentally crafted for the average person? She can’t cater to everyone’s needs, so she’s set to be “kind,” “thoughtful,” and “energetic” as a default.
Whatever! That’s why she’s going to reinvent herself this year! She’s going to find herself…hopefully.
“Is everything all right, Amy?”
Amy jolts at the sudden voice of her friend. “What! Oh! Uh, yeah! Just thinking about—” she gestures to her surroundings, “—how pretty everything is, haha…”
Amy can see the concern beginning to form on Blaze’s face, so before Blaze can act further on her very justified suspicion, Amy diverts.
“We should probably head back to the dorms. It’s getting late after all—”
“It’s 3pm?”
“—and I should start reading the syllabi professors have put out. And, I haven’t even talked to my roommate yet! Like a whole conversation, we’ve said hi and she liked my room decor,” Amy says, pushing her friend in the direction of their dorms.
“Amy,” Blaze says, with that stern tone that she only used when Amy didn’t keep her shoes on the shoe rack Blaze bought or when Amy was spiraling over an overdue assignment.
Amy stops her pushing. “Yeeeees?”
Blaze places her hands atop of Amy’s and levels a knowing stare, “You can tell me anything. I hope you know that.”
“Yeah, I know!” And maybe Amy’s voice is a tad too high when she says that.
“I mean it. Last year, I felt as though I wasn’t there for you as well as I should have,” Blaze averts her eyes for a moment, “You are very dear to me, and I want to help you in any way I can.”
Amy feels touched—really, she does!—so she musters a brave face and says, “Of course! You’re very dear to me too, Blaze. And, don’t you worry, I’ll let you know when I need the help.”
Blaze’s face falls for a second (which is long enough for Amy to see) before sighing. “Okay.”
Amy walks Blaze back to her dorm, gives her a big hug (she did promise after all), and Blaze repeats her sentiment towards the pink hedgehog and Amy repeats she’s fine.
Really. She’s fine.
It’s probably from all the excitement of move-in and now that she had one moment of calm she’s in the dumps, pondering about the meaning of her life.
However, a solution to all of that is Sabrina Carpenter!
Amy fishes for her earbuds in her skirt pocket (of course it has pockets, who do you think she is?), puts them in her ears, and allows Sabrina’s hypnotizing voice to accompany her on her way back to her dorm.
Sabrina can make Amy forget about her troubles and make her focus on Sabrina’s troubles.
Sabrina can also make Amy forget about the real world.
Amy feels it before she sees it.
During the split second Amy looked down at her phone to shuffle through Sabrina’s Short n’ Sweet album, she full-on bodyslams something. Amy is convinced that she must have knocked into a tree or something despite being on the sidewalk because the thing didn’t budge an inch.
Her body is weightless for only a second before gravity gets to work and pushes her down to the ground. Her bottom hits the cement ground first then her hands, which begin to prickle from the small rocks and debris on the ground digging into her palms.
During this whole commotion, Amy’s earbuds fly out of her ears and, luckily, land a couple feet to her right unbroken, albeit a little scuffed up.
Amy readies an apologetic face, just in case it’s a Mobian, because she was the one not looking, so she should be the one to apologize—
“Watch where you’re going.”
The unnecessarily harsh words make her head snap to whatever being she slammed into.
The first thing she sees are blood-red eyes, narrowed in her direction. Pure annoyance in the eyes.
The second thing she notices are his quills. A hedgehog with jet-black quills pointed skywards with the tips highlighted a scarlet red.
The third thing she notices is the black-leather aviator jacket he wears comfortably and confidently. It looks a little worn, probably from all the people he knocks into, Amy thinks bitterly.
Then, the fourth thing she notices is that she hates him. Maybe not hate—she could never hate anyone—but really dislikes him because he just assumed Amy is an airhead because she wasn’t looking where she was going.
The black hedgehog scoffs at Amy’s lack of a response and turns dramatically, his jacket also swishing with him and walks away.
The outrage courses through Amy’s blood and fuels her body to jolt up and shout, “Oh yeah? Well, uh, you watch where you’re going!”
However, the black hedgehog doesn’t look back.
Amy knows she has a loud voice, she’s been told so many times, so the fact that the black hedgehog didn’t even dignify her with a response makes her blood boil!
But, Amy was raised to be a lady, so after taking a couple of breaths, she dusts off any dirt from her skirt, grabs her earbuds, and walks off with her chin held high.
It’s okay, she still has time to start the year anew.