Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

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「 You can't stand the thought of a real beating heart 」

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Before, the mere idea of stopping his accelerated steps just to participate and celebrate a festivity like this would have seemed like a joke. Of course, on a few previous occasions—literally counted—he had given one or two gifts to his friends on those dates, but he never believed it would truly matter to him on a larger scale what happened on that day marked in red on calendars—February fourteenth.

The “day of lovers”

Themed lights in vivid colors hung from the ceiling in flashing bursts that bathed the areas of the meeting hall, not very large but just the right size. The light reflected artistically on the heart-shaped balloons strategically placed around the tables covered with white tablecloths, the columns rising to touch the ceiling, and the more improvised spots seeking aesthetics, like the not-so-high platform that allowed the representatives to draw the attention of those present.

Quiet laughter, applause, cheers, and happy exclamations filled the atmosphere that night. The warmth and the familiar complicity made the event enjoyable, one that many had awaited with disguised excitement.

But then, why, even living all this, did he feel that emptiness in his chest?

When he thought that the discomfort and nerves had finally moved to the background, even for a moment, came the thunderous stab straight to his heart that dismantled every attempt to remain calm in the situation: the blow of reality that carelessly struck him after witnessing that.

What he feared most, and to top it off, in the front row.

It should not have been shocking to him, since deep in his subconscious he already knew that perhaps something like that would happen, but even with that certainty embedded, the scene before him tore out a surprised, pitiful, incredulous exhalation; his eyes opened wide without his consent. He no longer bit the claws covered by his gloves. The sole of his shoe no longer tapped the floor with anxious nerves, waiting for something. Because it had already happened; that which he had so long avoided had unfolded before his eyes.

It wasn’t true.

He felt the sickening need for someone to tell him that.

The simple act of swallowing now cost him. His chest hurt as if everything he had been repressing had been forced out of him, hurting as if at that very moment all his feelings ceased to matter.

Or was it that all this time they truly hadn’t mattered?

It was foolish if he analyzed it. What else could have happened? The false hopes that arose were only distractions for this moment.

In part it was his fault... No, it really was his fault.

It was fair; he deserved it.

Maybe...

That’s why he understood, with humiliating resignation, that at that instant there was no reason to keep going.

For the first time, he gave up.

With his gaze lost on the floor, both hands squeezed his own knees with excessive pressure. He rose from the seat in automatic action, blinded by the early speculation at first sight.

He looked at the embraced figures one last time.

Before doing the only thing he was truly good at.

Running.

Since what was certain is that he ran. Of course he ran. He ran out of the hall, guided by the same voice in his head that ruined everything, the one that ordered him to escape from there, the one that sought to flee from what made him stay.

He used his speed so that no one could notice his absence, even though they were already focused on other presences.

But he didn’t use the speed that made him agile, nor the speed he relied on to tackle everyday problems. Instead, he used the speed he’d honed for running away.

Not from battles, not from enemies.

To run away from them.

To run away from his mistakes.

To run away from his fears.

“That’s not true. Sonic the Hedgehog fears nothing!” they would say.

Oh, of course he does. Sonic the Hedgehog fears something he never really knew how to control or hide under a disguise; he fears something he had become an expert at repressing, avoiding, fleeing from.

Yes, Sonic the Hedgehog fears nothing.

Except if that “nothing” was falling in love.

꒰💌꒱

The calm of the surroundings worked just as well as a home remedy; it was bitter at first, but once it took effect, the healing made one forget that taste. The journey there had been exhausting, just as exhausting as his daily routine had been ever since he once again accepted what bound him to a single purpose: duty.

In truth, he no longer kept track of time.

The monotony forced him to seek a place set apart from the confines of his current, structured life outside the laboratories—a place where he could grant himself a respite in absolute calm. This was that place, as sweet as a reward after the storm, which he took his time to enjoy after days of longing for it.

That night wasn’t as cold as the others. Gentle breezes drifted around him, producing a soft, soothing sound. The moon, high in the starry sky, kept him company in silence, yet at the same time demanded his attention with its beauty—even though only half of it remained.

The sigh that escaped him as he lost himself in his thoughts eventually blended with the whisper of the wind, which, with an enveloping gentleness, stirred the purple flowers and the tall grass of the meadow. His body didn’t hesitate, and as soon as the thought crossed his mind, he let himself fall backward onto the ground, responding to a need that had been hanging in the balance since the beginning of the week.

Several purple petals momentarily rose into the air after being struck by the imminent fall of the onyx color onto the grass. The figure of the hedgehog came to rest among the lavenders, dominant in that vegetation, whose location was isolated from civilization.

The comforting sensation produced by his fur brushing against the slightly damp grass allowed him to slowly release the air retained in his lungs as if it were a great relief. With the caress of the wind lulling him, he could also allow himself to relax his tense muscles and breathe without feeling the full weight of the previous mission upon him.

Because, as if constant training were not enough, Shadow’s “beautiful morning”—note the sarcasm—began with a mission on South Island. This time he had been sent alone, without the help of Rouge or Omega. Not that he needed it, but he admitted, in a way, that his reliable team was not unwelcome on certain occasions.

He preferred to work alone, which meant double the effort and dedication, though it was no great problem for “The Ultimate Life Form”, as he often called himself.

Yet, despite his superior ability, he faced several complications upon arriving at the cursed island: sneaking with stealth into one of Eggman’s countless bases or tracing the most accessible routes to find the potentially dangerous material he had been informed about. He plunged into danger relying on his speed and effective strength; he did not remain hidden in the shadows as if he were a common thief, nor was he excessively meticulous and calculating with the probabilities of his surroundings.

That was his companions’ work; he followed his instinct and sharpened senses.

He was the figure in command, the weapon that destroyed everything in its path, the one who dealt the final blow to the enemy. That was his purpose—after all, he was a biological weapon, wasn’t he?

And it was said that his curse was that he would never cease to be one.

But every now and then, even government-made weapons could rest.

Shadow no longer took exhaustion as a weakness. Not anymore. He had learned to appreciate the beauty of everything around him without always being on guard against threats. He understood that if he wanted to keep fighting, it was sometimes necessary to take a breath, to step away from battle, to step away from duty.

There were very few times when he could grant himself a rest like this, not having to worry about the demands of G.U.N. or his unfortunately closest friend, Rouge. Right now, only he mattered, the lavender, and the tranquility of the night.

He sighed through his nose, feeling the grass beneath him through the fabric of his white gloves. His eyelids felt as heavy as lead; his whole body did. The subtle bruises caused by a foolish mistake in the earlier mission were still healing. Barely noticeable, but the weight remained.

The scent of lavender and damp grass surrounded him, serving at the same time as a balm; it cleared away the smell of gunpowder that usually clung to him. He had always loved the delicate, natural fragrance of flowers, and since he had found this field full of lavender, he knew immediately that it would be his favorite place on Earth.

He would have loved to show it to her.

Eventually, his ebony eyelids slowly gave way to the absorbed relaxation. When another weary sigh escaped him, he sank into a drowsy state; a peaceful sensation adorned his interior almost the second he closed his eyes.

The wind kept howling silently among the flowers, the light of the moon illuminated his figure immersed in nature, and the small chant of some crickets joined the serene silence of the surroundings. An abundant perfection of calm. A perfection immensely unreal.

Too unreal to belong to him.

Some say that all good things must end, and in Shadow’s case, that end was closer than he believed.

As if it were running at full speed.

First came a muffled sound in the distance. The noise was almost imperceptible, almost. Even as the urge to sleep welled up within him, his ebony ears couldn’t help but prick up at the new intruder who had slipped into the meadow, breaking the silence with his light footsteps.

His brow furrowed naturally.

He could recognize those footsteps anywhere.

The sound of shoes striking the grass at a hurried rhythm grew more perceptible. At one point they slowed, but the sound grew louder as the intruder approached in his direction.

One, two, three steps, and it stopped.

The idea of ignoring him immediately crossed Shadow’s mind, and he quickly applied it as soon as he felt the familiar presence halt at his side.

He subtly squeezed his eyelids shut, as if afraid to open his eyes or forcing himself to fall asleep as quickly as possible; he knew perfectly well who was there, beside him.

He remained rigid, even holding his breath. Perhaps he would leave him alone if he truly believed he was deeply asleep or dead, whichever worked best.

But, as expected, the attempt was useless if it was him.

Sonic.

“I knew you’d be here,” the words dragged along with the wind, resonating in the present stillness. Sonic snorted through his teeth. “I admit you fake it well, Shadow. You almost look like you’re not breathing.”

The mentioned one swallowed a growl that threatened to escape his throat. How he hated that hedgehog and his incredible, genuine ability to annoy him; he didn’t even need to open his eyes to imagine him wearing a mocking grin on his shameless muzzle.

They remained silent for a moment. Shadow still refused to show signs of life, while Sonic felt the cold wind move his disheveled quills. The blue one exhaled theatrically, stretched his arms upward, releasing small lazy groans as his back cracked. Then he let himself fall onto the grass, sitting at a considerable distance from Shadow; his carefree state made clear his intentions to stay for a while.

“Though I don’t blame you if you wanna ignore me, this place is perfect for a couple of naps… It’s very calm.”

Sonic lifted his gaze to the sky, admiring the twinkling stars, shining like diamonds, and the shattered moon in the distance. As he looked at the vast space, a melancholic feeling entered him, bringing back memories of past adventures.

“It was, before you arrived.”

Sonic smiled automatically when he heard the raspy voice. His eyes shifted to the crimson ones. Shadow was watching him intently, his eyelids still heavy. The onyx one lifted himself slightly, leaning on his elbows to raise his head and torso.

“Pfft, yeah, right. You just don’t like sharin’ things. How much longer do you plan to keep this place to yourself?” Sonic leaned back slightly, resting his arms behind his curved back. His bold gaze contrasted with the irritated one of the black hedgehog.

Shadow sighed, breaking eye contact. He lay back down, placing both hands on his abdomen.

“What do you want?” he asked in a murmur. His eyes still open, lost in the sky.

Sonic had already expected that question. He rolled his eyes, returning to his observation of the stars. Silence enveloped them again.

But not for long.

“Hmph, nothing much. Just taking it easy, y'know? Stretching my legs, running around a bit,” he explained with vague gestures.

“At night?” Shadow inquired, raising a brow.

“Uh-huh, didn’t you hear they also call me ‘The Dark Knight?” he winked playfully.

The joke provoked a humorless snort from Shadow.

“If you’re not going to contribute anything, leave. You’ve already ruined my precious meditation with your noisy voice.”

“Oh, of course, my apologies,” he snorted. “I’ll turn right back around. Does Your Majesty also want me to purify the air I polluted with my arrival?” The corners of his smile lifted, irritatingly exaggerated, his lashes fluttering, speaking with that usual overly mocking and provocative tone.

It exasperated him.

“Wouldn’t hurt, jester,” he spat, half playing along, showing his white canines.

“Ha, too bad for ya, grumpy.” Sonic lay back, crossing his legs, swiftly placing his arms behind his head, hiding them among his quills.

Shadow closed his eyes in resignation, unable to do anything.

If Sonic decided to settle as he was now, it only meant one thing: His lazy ass wouldn’t make the slightest effort to move until he got bored on his own.

Now, Shadow no longer had security or calm within him.

With Sonic here, it was very difficult to relax.

And it wasn’t as if he were bothering him with chatter.

It was all about him

Shadow soon noticed how his heartbeat accelerated considerably. Even if he tried to focus on something else—the stars, the lavender, the grass, his feet—nothing worked. His eyes always ended up on the other’s still body, on the serene face gazing at the starry sky, on the unconscious, carefree sway of the red shoe.

It was severely annoying.

Recently, he had discovered something he didn’t like at all.

It embarrassed him.

The furtive glances had increased with each passing day. His walks through Green Hills had already become scarce thanks to the constant thought and rejection of crossing paths with Sonic.

Every time the Restoration group needed the help of his companions Rouge and Omega—including himself—he invented poor excuses. He was fortunate; since no one truly wanted to deal with his temper, they didn’t question him at all. Though there were special cases, like Amy Rose.

On every occasion when Rouge suggested visiting some luxurious shop in Station Square, he stayed alert, keeping an eye everywhere in case he happened to catch sight of the hero out of the corner of his eye.

He made himself believe that his hatred for Sonic had risen to stratospheric levels, to the point of not wanting to see him even in a painting. But that would be lying to himself.

Because he didn’t hate Sonic—he never did. At first, he saw him as nothing more than a rival. An insufferable, rebellious one, whose carefree behavior and overly optimistic outlook he didn’t quite care for. Later, he learned to tolerate him, to get along with him without always ending up in a fight over who was the best at some spontaneous nonsense. As time went on, he began to see him differently; he closely observed his movements in battle, his reactions, his seemingly unplanned way of acting.

What started as mere curiosity turned into longer glances, finding himself fixated on that radiant smile, on every joyful, angry, or boastful expression. He remembered every word that came out of his mouth, down to the tiniest details: like when he sneezed when danger was near, how his expressive ears followed nearby noises, how his tail wagged happily with every bite of a chili dog, or how he’d pull a face when he didn’t find the perfect level of spiciness in them.

He found himself enjoying his company, laughing—rarely—at some far-fetched joke, or competing with inexhaustible energy, but with a considerable respect floating between them, one much more friendly.

And one day, he found himself lost in his thoughts more than usual; all of them had the same protagonist.

At that moment, he froze. He will never forget how the frantic beats of his heart pounded against his ribs.

Respect.

That was the first thing he thought.

But no one who only feels respect ends up with strange, almost obsessive attitudes, behaving like a shadow.

Admiration.

That was the second thing that his mind came up with as a solution.

But no one who feels only admiration lies awake at night, unable to shake off the constant, impulsive thoughts: “Should I do this?” “What will he think of that?”

Fascination.

It was the third emotion he thought he felt, as he was already glancing surreptitiously at every detail of his rival for the eighteenth time that day.

But then he wondered if it was really just the simple fascination anyone would feel for someone like Sonic: the unstoppable savior of Mobius, beloved and celebrated, after all.

His mind was playing such tricks on him that at this point he couldn’t even say for sure what those words meant…

He needed a dictionary.

Conveniently, the week before he’d met up with Rouge for what at first glance seemed like work—though it came as no surprise to anyone when the two of them ended up with a few chocolate-filled croissants and two cups of coffee on the table at some café. So, taking advantage of the detour, before succumbing to his coffee addiction, he made sure to buy that darn dictionary—one he would never open again in his life.

He leafed through the pages with noticeable haste, Rouge’s voice serving as background noise. He found the word sooner than expected. His eyes moved quickly over the letters, connecting them together.

“Fascination: a strong interest, charm, magnetism...”

Shadow chuckled under his breath, not taking those words too seriously.

Yes, it was possible that anyone might develop an interest in Sonic’s antics and skills, but that was all. It was obvious that he would end up drawing everyone’s attention, as if by some kind of… magnetism.

He touched the steaming cup with the tips of his gloved fingers. He lifted it gently. Testing the flavor, he took a sip and turned his attention back to the page in the dictionary. However, just at that moment, he came across the last word he hadn’t finished reading.

Shadow choked, spitting some of the coffee back into the cup, splashing himself and burning his snout in the process. The cup fell squarely onto the porcelain saucer with a thunderous clang after slipping from his fingers. That was when Rouge stopped talking; her large ears perked up in alarm at the sudden noise.

Attraction.

The cursed word repeated endlessly in his head, like the blare of an alarm.

He went blank. He didn’t know how to react.

Rouge called to him, confused, but Shadow heard nothing; all his concentration fell on desperately searching for the meaning of that word.

He found it.

The situation did not improve at all.

There were two kinds of attraction: the one he recognized as interpersonal, and the other—the romantic one—with which he was least willing to identify.

Shadow was someone who stood out for his difficulty in expressing his emotions. His tough demeanor left little room for the imagination to discern his true intentions. That time, his eyes were wide open, his fingers trembled from the force he applied to the pages, and his heart… well, he almost convinced himself it would burst right out of his chest.

A deep sigh cut through Shadow’s slightly labored breathing.

“At last you realize.”

There wasn’t the slightest hint of surprise in Rouge.

His hands moved from the dictionary to clutch at the edge of the table, as if seeking to hold onto something; he couldn’t return his friend’s gaze.

The spilled coffee began to drip from the edges, spreading to the part of the dictionary he had ruined with his hands, the ink slowly dispersing through the liquid seeping between the pages.

The letters of “attraction” became a confused blur among the other words.

He had already mentioned his unease to Rouge before, but not in the way someone desperate for answers would, but rather in a peculiar manner, expressing himself terribly with indirect questions that were ironically direct, doing everything except helping.

Like in the middle of missions:

“Is it normal to act differently only when you’re near a specific person?”

During their gatherings:

“When you don’t like someone, can their presence make you nervous?”

When he asked for help with his twenty-step skincare routine:

“A friend of another friend told me they think they’re going crazy because they can’t get someone out of their head. Do you think it’s a disease or something?”

“Shadow, the only social interaction you have is with me and Omega.”

“…”

And on that day, while buying the dictionary.

( . . . )

For as long as he could remember, the answers to his questions had always been found in thick books that carried the weight of hundreds of yellowed pages bound in hardcover—books he would never have learned to understand if it weren’t for a certain blonde girl.

One not-so-secret secret he kept was the ironic fact that he hated reading. Because, come to think of it, someone with above-average intellect must surely have wasted hours as a bookworm.

Books were never his thing; for one thing, he was never good at studying. All the effort he once put into it was due to María’s insistence—more to avoid disappointing her than anything else. Without her in particular, it wouldn’t have even crossed his mind to learn the multiplication tables. Why should it? His original purpose didn’t include literally solving every kind of problem.

It’s incredible how he and Sonic are such opposites.

Because, of course, on one occasion he had already seen Sonic immersed in the pages of a book while resting under the shade of some tree.

Thanks to that, Shadow also realized that his brain always managed to unconsciously end up thinking about Sonic, one way or another.

He slapped his face—metaphorically speaking.

He had to focus.

“What do you feel when you’re with… Knuckles?” he finally threw out the question, a rigorous one he had been forming since that morning.

This must be it: when his bat friend hears the echidna's name, she becomes quite a loose lip.

Because of the silence, even though it had been in a whisper, his voice carried clearly down the deserted hallway. The immense stained-glass windows, through which the rays of twilight streamed, created a kaleidoscope at every corner, reflected in the color of their fur and outlining their silhouettes. The light floods much of the space, illuminating the plank-laid wooden floor and the scattered marble columns.

Rouge turned her gaze away from the dull-colored tomes on the shelf, not really interested in them, to look back at Shadow. She raised an eyebrow. 

“Excuse me?”

The hedgehog sighed, tightening his fingers on the dictionary he was holding. 

“Nothing.”

He had become a complete gullible fool ever since his brain had struck him with the idea of spouting stupid questions, hoping that one of them would go unnoticed enough to elicit the definitive answer that would magically fix his little problem.

Come on, you can’t blame him: the woman closest to him was that kleptomaniac bat. He knew full well that people like Amy Rose would have figured the whole thing out with just one glance from head to toe.

But of course, Shadow still wasn’t ready to face whatever the pink hedgehog might tell him. He was searching for answers that were already right under his nose, and yet he kept refusing to see them. It was like the saying:

There is no worse deaf man than the one who doesn’t want to hear.

Shadow turned on his heels, moving through the perfectly aligned shelves filled with endless books and specks of dust. The echo of his heavy Air Shoes steps stood out in the spacious, old library.

“Simple curiosity.”

He had to excuse himself somehow; he couldn’t be that obvious.

Rouge imitated his action, following his steps, somewhat hesitant, listening to the tapping of her own boots. Without losing elegance, she sped up with discreet, calculated movements to catch up with the hedgehog, crossing her arms once she was close to his side.

“Sure… will you finally tell me what’s going on with you?”

Shadow feigned ignorance, his eyes fixed on the path ahead. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Rouge snorted, a playful smile forming, as if to say, “Are you kidding me?” while tilting her head to the left in an intrigued gesture; her ears moved along with it.

“Oh, really? Because these last few days I’ve noticed you acting odd and distracted. Is there something I haven’t heard about?”

Shadow didn't speak. He stopped at the checkout counter and handed the dictionary to the librarian, a young Mobian sheep with a dreamy gaze and ridiculously large rectangular glasses that made her black irises stand out all too much.

Rouge also stood in front of the cash register. Squinting, she looked over her long, curly eyelashes at the serenity on his face.

But she wasn’t going to let the doubt linger in her head; she always found a way to get information out of her target. All it took was the right amount of cunning.

So, resting her arm on Shadow’s shoulder, she leaned close to his ear to whisper:

“Is there something between you and Blue?”

It was pure art how the hedgehog froze in place, his right ear flicking back for a few seconds, his breathing suddenly pausing…

Bingo.

Shadow knew perfectly well who his friend meant by that “Blue.”

Rouge’s smile widened with satisfaction. The librarian glanced at them sideways while scanning the dictionary with a sharp red “beep,” which brought the black hedgehog back to reality.

He growled, pushing his shoulder forward to free himself from the sticky pressure of the bat’s arm.

“How could you even…?” he didn’t need to finish. For an instant his eyes shifted with a hint of nervousness; that alone exposed him.

“Shadow, there’s no need for a thorough inspection. Y’know very well I have eyes everywhere. And you and Sonic in particular, oh dear, that’s truly delightful to see.”

Rouge’s drawn-out, flirtatious voice made the corners of Shadow’s lips twist into a grimace of disgust.

Damn it, she already knows.

“Please, don’t start, woman.”

Rouge let out a small nasal laugh.

“That’ll be thirty rings, sir.”

With a resigned exhale, he pulled his credit card from a slot in the red trim at the start of his gloves. He extended his hand with the card, stopping halfway when he noticed another being slid through the reader, successfully paying.

Rouge looked at him sideways, raising a sly smile, an action that revealed her clever plan to meddle in his affairs. “I’ll owe you one once you tell me everything going on in that little mind of yours.” The sheep returned the card to Rouge with a modest smile and a “Come back soon,” handing her the now-paid dictionary. “I’ll treat us to whatever we have during our coffee break, too. You just focus on opening that hard heart, handsome.”

She winked, holding the black card with golden numbers and details between two fingers, making clear that working for the government had its perks.

Shadow narrowed his eyes at where Rouge stored the object—her intentionally pronounced cleavage.

He sighed loudly, snatching the dictionary from her slippery hands in a sudden move.

“I’m telling you now, whatever you have in mind won’t work,” he clarified, heading for the exit, adorned by his eternal frown.

Rouge huffed, arms crossed at the counter, watching as Shadow left the building with his heavy footsteps echoing on the wooden floor.

“Don’t worry, he’s always like that,” she mentioned conspiratorially, leaning on the fir wood counter.

Not everyone could see how proud she was to be so close to the black hedgehog, despite his tendency to avoid any interaction with her.

Deep down, she was aware he cared for her more than he expressed; if not for his impenetrable barriers, their friendship would be far more evident to an objective eye. They were obstacles she had learned to overcome with ingenuity.

On the way to the café, the interrogation didn’t cease. Rouge flapped her wings, lifting herself just a few centimeters off the ground. The hedgehog’s ears had to evolve to get used to her endless chatter. His face, as they walked through the streets dyed orange by the twilight and the constant bustle of Station Square, remained just as stoic.

Inside, he wanted to smash the dictionary against the bat’s loudmouth.

“At least tell me why you want some stupid dictionary,” she drawled, deliberately dragging out the “o”—like a spoiled little girl desperate for attention. “Can’t you just look it up online? Or at least I thought that the oh-so-great ‘ultimate lifeʼ form already came with one memorized right out of the box.”

Shadow pressed his lips together, sighing through his nose. He didn’t want to tell her.

But the words spilled out on their own when he was with her.

“I need to check something; the internet is too fake.” The truth was he didn’t know how to use it.

“Hmm, ‘something,’ how mysterious you are, Shadsy.” She placed her hand under her chin, pretending to be in a meditative pose.

Rouge watched as Shadow walked ahead with his hands hidden in the pockets of his usual black jacket with a fur collar.

A natural hunch already made her imagine what that “something” might be.

But, with the patience she had developed over two years of friendship with that hedgehog, she would wait for him to realize it on his own and have no choice but to admit it—to set aside his immense pride and remove that self-imposed blindfold from his eyes so that authenticity would be reflected in each of his actions. So that, at last, he could rid himself of the apathy that clung to his body.

And well, it didn’t take long for him to be cornered that very afternoon.

Her hunches never failed.

( . . . )

In his immortal life, he never thought this would actually happen to him.

His past self believed, blindly, that his goal was clear, that his existence revolved solely and exclusively around one person.

In the events following the Ark incident, he had an opportunity—one where he himself could lead the way forward. But in the end, contradicting every longing for a fresh start, he ended up right where it all began.

G.U.N.

The ironic, persistent, and exasperating thought of being treated as nothing more than a tool, unfortunately, continued to represent part of who he was, sugarcoated with the excuse of a truce. His body reacted out of habit, and even with the freedom to do whatever he wanted, he continued to cling indefinitely to the only thing that still gave him a purpose in life.

But then, he arrived…

After saving the world from the Eclipse Cannon alongside his companions, Shadow paid no further attention to Sonic as he struggled to find his identity—until he regained his memories. And when he did, there was something that prevented him from ever completely separating himself from that hedgehog.

Because it was Sonic, without even realizing it, who guided him toward something better.

Because it was Sonic, despite the mistakes he made, who chose to fight by his side.

Because it was Sonic, with just a single observation, who taught him what it was like to live on this planet.

And because it was Sonic, after Amy, who treated him as an equal despite everything.

It was thanks to all of that that many of his negative thoughts dissipated. It helped him clear his mind once again. His role as an ally of G.U.N. no longer weighed on him as it once had; he now saw it as a way to feel truly useful—to help the world, to make others happy, and to eradicate the injustices that had marked his past. These were things she had wished he would have done.

And because of all that, Shadow, unwilling to admit it aloud, understood that he was completely screwed.

Because if all the signs…

That dictionary…

And the inevitable talk he had with Rouge that afternoon didn’t lie…

Then there was no doubt about what he felt.

Him.

Shadow the Hedgehog.

The so-called Ultimate Life Form.

A reserved biological experiment.

Is in love.

And not just anyone, because of course they had to punish him twice. We're talking about how he fell head over heels in love with a damn show-off, a Mobian who put other people's lives before his own, the hedgehog with whom the only thing they had in common was their noses.

He is in love with the one he always thought was his unwanted rival.

He is in love with Sonic the Hedgehog.

Since then, he forced himself into the most complicated mission he had ever undertaken: ignoring him.

And obviously, as shown before, it was a fiasco.

It was enough to see his situation now; he couldn’t even move with Sonic so close.

He didn’t know what was worse, that, or the fact that he already recognized he had gone Everyone knows this one: first comes denial.

Wait, he hasn’t gone through any grieving process… and yet is it the same process for his repressed feelings?

I suppose there must be some similarity between them.

It was hell, and—forgive the redundancy—he suffered; that was clearly evident. Then came anger; however, it seems that anger was already present in every minute of his life, so it’s unclear whether it could be considered a distinct stage. But without a doubt, the worst of it all was the depression, because as soon as it hit, he was already being crushed by an incredible emotional slump—similar to many others he’d experienced during his worst moments, the kind that forced him to form an intimate relationship with his bed, junk food, and bad telenovelas.

Now, he had no idea if he was at the point of acceptance, and he didn’t want to find out anyway.

He told himself he’d rather die than lower himself for that hedgehog.

He promised himself, indisputably, even with his heart twisting painfully, that he would never allow himself to admit that idiot mattered more than necessary.

He would not fall again for his confident smile. Nor for his contagious laughter. Nor for his long, blue quills. Nor for his free and adventurous spirit.

No, not anymore.

Today he would prove that he didn’t need Sonic to breathe.

Shadow moved his hands with the intention of rising silently, sitting up and standing in the most rigid posture possible. Sonic didn’t even flinch, lost enough in his own thoughts not to notice the upright figure. Shadow exhaled, clenching his hands into fists.

He would face him head-on, look straight into those beautiful emerald eyes, and make it very clear that he didn’t want to see him again within his line of sight. He would shout that he should never dare to seek him again, that he should stop finding excuses to get close to him.

He took a step, determined to draw his attention.

“Hey, Shadow.”

Just saying his name was enough.

Shadow sat back down.

It was humiliating how quickly he retreated.

“I’ve been like… Uhm, how to put it? Really lost in something these past weeks, it’s got me confused,” he mentioned, his eyebrows arching toward the sky.

Shadow was confused too. Why was he acting like a damn dog?

“Like I care.”

It was his defense mechanism. He fought to keep his voice from trembling.

Sonic let out a short laugh. “Jeez, I barely opened my mouth. At least let me finish, dude.”

He focused his attention on Shadow, feigning an irritated look with one eyebrow raised.

Until his eyes shifted to his posture.

Sonic wasn’t stupid.

He knew something had changed in Shadow when he wasn’t looking at him; curiosity slowly climbed, pricking at him the more he found abnormal signs. But he held back.

Shadow growled under his breath, forcing himself into silence, giving way for the other to continue.

It was pathetic how easily he succumbed.

Sonic gave him one last scan before clearing his throat, covering his mouth with his fist.

“As I was saying, I think it’s something I can’t handle on my own anymore, even if it’s hard to admit.” His voice subtly dropped at the end, a sign of his confidence slipping away.

There was an uncomfortable stillness, the atmosphere changed; the air felt dense, so thick it gave the sensation of being able to cut it with a knife.

“Go on,” Shadow encouraged, surprising even himself.

Seconds later, Sonic sighed, lowering his gaze to his red boots. He inhaled deeply, propping himself up with his arms until he copied Shadow’s seated posture. “In two days it’s Valentine’s Day,” he began, with a slow tone, intertwining his fingers and fidgeting nervously. “Jewel got creative and, well… with Amy’s help, she organized a gift exchange for that date, but I imagine you already know, right?”

Shadow took a moment to nod, barely remembering. He had been so busy with his “tiny” problem these past weeks that he had left that information forgotten in the corners of his mind.

And now that Sonic mentioned it, he remembered Amy had handed him a disgustingly pink envelope covered in hearts, pretending to be an invitation to some event. At first, he didn’t find the joke funny; then he understood when the pink hedgehog smiled at him with a sparkle in her eyes at his door.

It was probably still intact among his things in his room.

“Yes. They invited me, for some strange reason,” he said with a hint of indifference, avoiding the emerald eyes fixed on him. “Though I didn’t read what they sent, so I don’t know who I’m supposed to give a gift to.”

“Are you even going?” Sonic joked, chuckling.

Shadow rolled his eyes, a faint smile appearing on his muzzle. “Who knows. I suppose if you’re going, it would be a waste of time, but I don’t want to hurt Rose’s feelings either.”

“Aww, always so considerate.” Sonic placed a hand on his chest, pretending to be moved.

“Stupid hedgehog,” he snorted under his breath, feigning disinterest. At the same time, a sigh—which longed to be a laugh—escaped from his dark lips. This time, it didn’t go unnoticed by the blue one.

Sonic let out a louder laugh, beginning to relax his tense posture.

“Aight, aight, I’m getting off track,” he calmed himself, exhaling through his nose and keeping his face serene. “Anyway, to make it short, I need your help.”

Shadow barely blinked. Had he heard correctly? Was Sonic—who was notoriously cocky in the way he spoke—asking for his help with something that seemed serious? he wondered.

He sighed bitterly. It wasn’t good to jump to conclusions, but he thought he already had an idea where this was going.

“Yeah, sure, don’t take me for an idiot, hedgehog. Don’t think I’ll help you escape Amy’s motivational therapy again, and I won’t lend you rings for chili dogs either, nor…”

“It’s not that!” Sonic rushed to say, waving his hands side to side while shaking his head. “Could you let me finish? Chaos… And don’t say it like I’m some kind of freeloader, alright?”

The black hedgehog narrowed his eyes, his expression clearly saying, "Seriously?" Sonic looked away, scratching his neck with embarrassment painted on his smile.

“Yeah, yeah, fine, I get it! But don't exaggerate either! This time it’s important, I swear, Shads!”

Shadow disguised how that nickname sent a shiver down his spine. He clicked his tongue in annoyance.

“I doubt it’s as important as you say." He frowned, then noticed the exhausted expression on Sonic’s face.

“Ugh, this guy…”

Sonic slapped his face with both hands. With a grunt, he pulled them up to his snout in a frustrated gesture.

The cobalt hedgehog muttered something inaudible, squinting his eyes. Shadow raised an eyebrow, remaining impassive despite wanting to deny the bubbling curiosity that was beginning to well up within him at this display.

“First,” Sonic continued, raising an accusatory finger at Shadow, “the motivational therapy thing is ancient history; it was a life-or-death situation. I told you that day I had an urgent reason not to waste time listening about self-esteem or playing tarot.”

“You call hanging out at Tails’ house urgent?”

“Second!” Sonic interrupted, raising his voice, now frowning himself. “I just want… agh, to tell this to someone who won’t act like my therapist…”

“So what do you want?” the black hedgehog asked, tilting his head slightly.

Sonic twisted his lips into a grimace, pretending to search for the answer with a thoughtful expression. “I don’t know, maybe a piece of advice as quick as me, for example.”

Shadow looked even more confused.

“Advice, you say?… Then why don’t you ask the fox or the echidna instead?” He searched for the answer in Sonic’s emerald eyes for a second, frowning. “You don’t actually think I’ll give it to you, do you?”

The edges of Sonic’s confident smile faltered, nerves attacking him again. He cleared his throat, looking away once more. Scratching behind his ear, he thought of something quick to avoid the inevitable wave of discomfort.

“Heh… Who better to give it than the ‘Ultimate Life Form’? Eh?” he suggested, shrugging and exclaiming dramatically with a forced smile. He carried on with his improvisation as he sat closer to the hybrid, just to give it a friendly nudge.

Sonic returned to his shameless attitude in a blink, maybe because it had become routine to activate that mechanism whenever he felt vulnerable.

He couldn’t afford to fail at this.

Shadow let out a weary sigh, trying to hold onto what little patience he had. He crossed his arms lazily.

“You’d better spit it out already, Faker. But I don’t promise to help.”

The corners of Sonic’s lips lifted even more at hearing that, enough to recover himself, turning his stiff grimace into a relaxed smile. Knowing the black hedgehog couldn’t refuse if he played his best card, Sonic adjusted his posture without breaking eye contact. His eyes gleamed with satisfaction before speaking.

“It’s about my ‘Valentine’s,’ if you know what I mean.” He mimicked quotation marks with his fingers. “I have no idea what to give for the exchange.”

What nonsense, crossed directly through Shadow’s mind.

He still couldn’t understand why, out of all Mobians, Sonic chose him specifically for this topic.

He must have lost his mind.

“Are you kidding me? Give chocolates or those marketing scams everyone uses.”

“That’s the problem! That’s too basic, and I’m not basic,” Sonic insisted, sounding deeply offended. Shadow shook his head, fed up. “But you’re in luck, because I always think of something,” Sonic added, emphasizing the pronoun with that smug tone he carried.

The comment was hilarious. Shadow stifled a joke about it; everyone knew Sonic didn’t exactly live by the phrase “think before you act.”

“I’ve got two options for you—guess the first one.” Sonic held up two fingers, saying this in a sing-song voice with an amused look on his face as he moved the raised phalanges up and down one after the other.

Shadow rolled his eyes but still paused to think about his rival-turned-friendly’s supposed brilliant idea. 

“I don’t know… something expensive?” The blue one shook his head with a sly grin that exasperated Shadow. He clicked his tounge but, seconds later, copied the mocking smile, as if remembering something. “Ah, wait, you’re practically a vagabond, right? No way it’s an expensive gift.”

Sonic opened his mouth wide, raising one eyebrow and furrowing the other at such an accusation.

“Hey! Are you implying I’m poor? Just because I hang out at Tails’ house doesn’t mean I don’t have one of my own. FYI, I’m a nomad,” he asserted, with obvious pride as he pointed a hand at his chest. 

Shadow tilted his head slightly, narrowing his eyes and raising an eyebrow. Sonic snorted and shot a weary glance back at his rival’s skeptical stare.

“At least I’m not a G.U.N. kept man…”

Sonic muttered this, crossing his arms. He said it so quietly that it sounded like just an offhand remark, but his provocative intentions became clear when a cheeky smile lit up his face upon getting the desired reaction.

The mockery in Shadow’s expression vanished, replaced by a stern look devoid of even a hint of humor. Sonic’s chuckle showed a little—very little—remorse as he looked into the piercing, icy crimson eyes fixed on him. But he didn’t want to be the cause of another fistfight, not this time. Although he didn’t mind provoking one, he needed to get rid of the doubts tormenting him as quickly as possible, and he wouldn’t be able to do that if he let Shadow get the upper hand.

So he cleared his throat again to ease the tension.

“Anyway, where was I?” He rubbed the back of his neck with a crooked grin. “Oh, right—the first gift's gotta be something awesome—something everybody'd love. Y'know... handsome, pretty smart, the fastest thing alive…”

Shadow could already guess the whole line after hearing the first words.

“Please don’t say you’re…”

“Of course it’s me, man! It’s only logical if I don’t want to give away something basic, right?” he announced to the whole world, as if bragging about his achievements weren’t enough.

Shadow sighed openly now. Maybe it wasn’t too late to use Chaos Control and escape the situation he had forced himself into. 

“I can only pity the unfortunate soul who’ll receive that.”

“Oh, come on! You know I’m everything anyone could want,” he said in a deeper tone, winking mischievously—which left Shadow’s self-control hanging by a thread.

“You disgust me.”

Sonic chuckled softly.

“Hmm… then let the so-called ‘perfect life form’ tell me, what would you give your Valentine?” Sonic raised both hands dramatically, rolling his eyes.

“Simple: nothing, because I won’t attend that stupid gift exchange.”

And it wasn’t much of a surprise anyway.

Sonic exhaled through his teeth, feigning distress. Until his gaze changed. He thought once more about his unease.

Was this the chance he had been waiting for?

He didn’t have time on his side to keep doubting.

“I’m not just talking about the exchange, Shads. By any chance… have you ever had a Valentine?”

The question pierced through the black hedgehog.

The frantic drum of his heart returned to disturb him.

Don’t say it.

“And you know what I mean, beyond all this. Falling in love… has it ever happened to you, Shadow?”

Why you?

“Falling in love?” he asked, as if the word itself felt foreign.

Sonic nodded, biting the corner of his lip. He couldn’t let insecurity ruin this. “Well, since you seem so skeptical about these things, I just got curious,” he said, diverting his gaze in feigned indifference.

Why now?

Shadow summoned all his willpower not to let out a trembling breath. His eyes quickly dropped to his lap, as if the answer he sought was hidden there.

The silence was torturous for both—Sonic clenched the hand resting on the grass, Shadow tightened his jaw. Their thoughts echoed in their minds, each consumed by different worries.

They wanted to slip into each other’s storm, to know if it was safe to continue with what was stuck in their throats.

Shadow hesitated:

What is he trying to get at? Why ask if…?

From Sonic emerged anxiety:

Is he hiding it? Could it be that he really feels something for…?

And suddenly, the serious voice that rose interrupted the limbo they had formed.

“No.”

Sonic’s ears perked at the sound, his emerald eyes reflecting surprise. He looked at the ebony hedgehog with a mix of disbelief and… relief?

Shadow wanted to know the exact reason why he had managed to articulate that word.

It was unexpected even for him; he even felt the impulse to demand knowledge of how he was supposed to feel about it.

What was that?

Was it an impulse to protect him? The phase he thought he had overcome? Or, to put it simply: Was it cowardice, constant fear, and habitual resistance that prevented him from moving forward?

He wanted to tear out his quills. Why had his mouth reacted before he did?

Why, even in his confusion, was there something in him that felt grateful for having said it?

Was he lying to himself that much?

“Are you sure?... Isn’t there some pretty girl you’re hiding from me?” Sonic pressed, using his mischievous tone.

Sonic kept probing the question for one reason alone: Shadow might be lying to him. And the blue one didn’t want to have to voice his own unease directly.

Shadow clicked his tongue, uncomfortable with the sudden interrogation.

“You really like to insist, huh?… There isn’t a single woman I’m interested in, hedgehog.”

That should have been enough. For the first time that night, Shadow was truly honest.

It would be a lie to admit he had ever seen any woman romantically in his entire life.

“No?…” Sonic repeated, barely a whisper.

His lungs loosened. He turned to look ahead, at the wild lavender swaying with the whistle of the wind and the stretch of nature that reached up to the stars above. “Really?”

The answer took longer than he would have liked.

Sonic was truly struggling to keep pace.

Shadow sighed heavily; that hedgehog was certainly persistent.

“I don’t like anyone. I’ve never been in love,” he said so dryly, without hesitation, that to the emerald eyes it was undeniable.

Sonic released the grass clenched in his hand, his ears lowering subtly. But not out of fear—out of something else.

“And… I don’t think I ever will,” Shadow concluded, sealing it with a perfect final blow, one that sounded painful enough to end all questioning.

Sonic one gasped quietly, incredulous. Unreal scenarios sped through his mind. He imagined every possibility, and…

He smiled.

A despicable, involuntary, faint smile adorned his face as soon as Shadow spoke the words that ended his unease.

The surprising firmness in the other’s voice made it believable.

Doubts slowly dissolved.

For one, it was painful.

For the other, it became a breath of relief.

One was lost in the uncertainty of his own storm.

The other felt he had reached the final step toward freeing himself from his own.

The chirping of the crickets grew louder among them now that the echo of their voices had faded. It took Sonic a few seconds to compose himself. He didn’t even feel the cold around him, thanks to the wave of heat that, in contrast, welled up from his chest: a comforting sensation of having finally been freed from such an oppressive weight on his shoulders. A burden he’d been carrying for longer than it actually seemed. He thought it would be much harder to get information out of Shadow because of his notoriously unpredictable attitude, so his astonishment a minute ago had been genuine. It was strange; maybe he shouldn’t jump to conclusions so quickly.

But he sensed certainty in every tone.

It felt like a dream.

A breeze brushed against his back, sending a shiver—not the unpleasant kind that makes you flinch, but a positive one, like a current of trust, an electric spark that returned the reins to him. As if he had regained control of his thoughts. Of his body.

For Shadow, it was the opposite.

The icy wind crawled down his spine with a horrible tingling that threatened to shatter his façade. It struck like a blow of reason, questioning his cursed pride, sickening him with how easily he hid behind lies.

It disarmed him completely.

And when he noticed, his favorite place no longer felt safe. That initial confidence was gone.

Because confidence was the first thing lost when he unconsciously began to repress the beating of his heart.

Sonic sighed, breaking the silence. He looked different now, alive again, with a new emotion shining in his eyes.

“Hey… can I be honest with you?”

Silence.

No.

Shadow didn’t want to stay there.

He growled between his teeth. “I’ve had enough.”

Sonic frowned as he saw the rigid, insecure hedgehog trying to rise.

An arm shot forward, grabbing the dark-furred one. Sonic held Shadow’s arm as he tried to stand. “Hey, wait! Don’t leave me like this, man… You’ll make me look ridiculous.”

The embarrassment on Sonic’s face was obvious; his awkward laugh and the protested grip on Shadow’s arm left the ebony hedgehog unsettled.

Should he stay?

His heartbeat was suffocating.

His tense limbs begged to move.

But the bubbling of curiosity overflowed its limits.

Which should he follow?

“Okay... I gotta admit, the whole gift thing was kind of a cheap move…” Shadow lowered his gaze to Sonic as he spoke. He kept his eyes on the ground, his voice quieter than usual. “Truth is... that's not what I'm really worried about.”

Damn it.

How he hated it.

Because Shadow didn’t need words; that alone was enough to anchor him to the moment.

Betrayed by his own body once again, he slowly freed himself from Sonic’s grip, trying not to make it seem reluctant—though failing. His muscles gave way, sliding back down. In the end, both hedgehogs sat with their heads bowed.

They were pathetic.

As it was happening, Shadow was overcome by an unpleasant feeling of shame and self-betrayal.

Sonic laughed faintly, barely audible, as if that could lighten the air.

Then he released the true trigger:

“I’m in love with Amy.”

It resonated across the field. Time stopped.

Crimson eyes widened in shock. The mention of the pink hedgehog’s name jolted his heart’s rhythm; it skipped a beat.

He turned his head toward Sonic in disbelief, his body twice as tense, as stiff as a rock.

“What?”

Sonic did not answer; his gaze remained immersed in the ground, searching for the right words in the chaos of his racing mind.

Shadow, meanwhile, fixed his eyes on a single point, not truly seeing it. His thoughts spun into a storm, tormenting him once more with a sickening speed.

The weight pressing on his chest made it impossible to focus on anything else. The fragile sensation of hearing your—something confusing—crush confess affection for someone else, someone who is not you, someone utterly different from you, was devastating.

And in a way, it hurt even more because Shadow, despite all the stages of self-discovery he had endured, had always known from the beginning that the powerful feelings now woven into his everyday life might never be expressed.

Because they were only rivals.

Barely friends.

And worse still, both were men.

Two male hedgehogs, utterly different in so many ways.

Such a thing could never be well regarded.

At least, not in Shadow’s eyes—never with himself in the equation.

His mind drifted elsewhere, but then he caught the muffled sound, distant like the echo of a cave: Sonic’s voice. As if his brain had unconsciously blocked it, he hadn’t noticed when the other began to speak.

“That’s exactly why I want your advice in the first place. I want… I wanna tell Amy how I feel, but the words get tangled up in my mouth, my head is a mess, and Valentine’s Day is in two days!” he exclaimed into the air, stretching his arms out toward the sky and then letting himself fall backward onto the grass, revealing the immense stress that had been building up for weeks. He muttered in a weary groan, “I don’t understand myself.”

And Shadow was lost.

How ironic.

Of all possibilities, of all outcomes…

It turned out to be the Mobian Sonic had sometimes avoided.

Familiar, isn’t it?

That strategy didn’t always work.

“Shaadoow, are you listening to me?” Sonic muttered, his voice rough and dragging, the only sound breaking the constant calm of the night.

He remained sprawled on the grass, legs crossed, arms tucked beneath his head—an automatic movement. He raised an eyebrow, confused, noticing how the other gave no response.

“What’s wrong, edge lord?” A small smile curved his lips, calling him by that mocking nickname he often used when they felt at ease—or even when they didn’t. “You didn’t expect that, did you?”

He laughed softly, never lifting his eyes from Shadow’s tense back.

For a while, there was no reply.

The black hedgehog blinked twice, breaking free from the mental spiral he had fallen into, finally reacting to the noise behind him. A mechanical system hardened his gaze before he turned his torso to see Sonic more clearly. He caught sight of that exasperating sly smile, those precious emerald eyes watching him with curiosity. He noticed the way Sonic moved, brimming with confidence, his foot resting casually on his knee. Then his gaze traveled upward, tracing the slender body, pausing at the peach-colored chest rising and falling with calm breaths.

His jaw tightened.

His eyes ascended again, locking onto the radiant emeralds, lingering far longer than he intended.

Every time he looked at that mocking, relaxed, seemingly arrogant hedgehog, the sensation returned—the one he had named disgusting, festering in his chest. And with each passing minute, it grew stronger, larger, more unbearable.

Consuming him, as it did now.

He had never imagined that what began as something light, insignificant, would become heavier and heavier, forcing him to endure the unforeseen pain it now caused.

He furrowed his brow and clenched his teeth involuntarily, the curve of his muzzle trembling. Shadow tore his gaze away—it hurt so much he hated it.

He hated that feeling.

He truly wanted to hate him.

But with every breath, every glance, it became more impossible.

From the cobalt one, the strangeness of Shadow’s behavior finally became clear. Did it bother him so much to be called that? But it had already become routine between them… Could it be that he had finally grown tired of his existence? Or was Shadow silently tearing himself apart just to endure this… conversation? Even Sonic didn’t know what it was, though he considered any explanation valid.

He decided that, since no comment came from the other, he would continue speaking.

Sonic began to confess.

“Well… I also understand it might be shocking, surely the last thing you’d expect from me. But I really am in love, Shads. For years. And it scares me.”

He was honest.

For an instant, he set his pride aside.

Shadow’s ebony ears twisted toward him, listening.

Sonic lifted his head slightly to check if Shadow was still there. He was, his back turned, but listening. At that, Sonic let his head fall again, his eyes drifting to the beautiful night sky, a sigh escaping.

“Y’know, I always thought I could express what I want… but what I feel? By Chaos! Love has always been an uncomfortable subject for me. That idea of committing to a relationship and all… I even thought I’d never do it.”

Shadow clenched his fist against the ground, tearing blades of grass with the force.

His breathing became irregular. He didn't want to listen to him anymore. Every word he spoke only made the discomfort he felt worse and, in a way, squeezed it, as if it were turning into a crumpled ball of paper. He would never tire of emphasizing that it hurt—it hurt to the point where he wanted to rip open his own chest and tear out everything that still kept him chained to Sonic, forcing him to return to him again and again.

Sonic had no idea of his state.

And he kept speaking.

“But I realized that all this time I never knew how to identify it… well, more like I refused to recognize it.”

Well…

It seemed that, even so, both hedgehogs coincided in something.

The sudden rustle of grass, caused by Sonic rising quickly, stole Shadow’s breath for a second.

“Hey, you gonna keep ignoring me?...” he teased with an uncomfortable smile. “I finally open up to you, and you're just gonna stare off into space? Harsh, dude. I didn't think you hated me that much.” The joke came easily, but it did little to hide the knot of anxiety in his chest. 

Patience had never been one of his strong suits. 

“Shads, heeey… Shaaadow.”

Sonic frowned, confusion plain.

He just won’t stop ignoring me...

But what Sonic didn’t know was that irregular breathing, tense muscles, and burning fists were silent warnings of the drop that would overflow the glass.

They sank again into a deplorable silence. Not a single word; the quiet was deafening. Even the crickets seemed awkward.

In that moment, only the repetitive murmur of the wind could be distinguished.

Sonic, tired of waiting for something from the black hedgehog, was on the verge of touching him to call his attention.

“Why don’t—?”

If not for the fact that Shadow beat him to it.

He exploded.

He turned violently, facing Sonic with quills bristling.

“Enough! Why do you tell me all that crap as if I were an expert in love? What do you expect from me?! That I encourage you to confess? That I prepare you and Amy a perfect date? I don’t even know what to do with my own feelings!”

His crimson eyes blazed like fire in the night, his voice tearing through the darkness, echoing with frustration and pent-up stress. Sonic froze, his hand suspended in the air, meant for Shadow’s shoulder. His blue ears folded slightly, his eyes wide.

Shadow realized what he had done as quickly as he had said it, his own eyes widening, staring at Sonic’s confusion.

The frown expression on his face slowly dissolved, reshaping into panic, startled by the storm of words that had escaped without his permission.

Shame and regret intertwined perfectly. The clenched fist against the damp earth loosened along with his anger. If his heartbeat had been irregular before, now it was as though the pulsing organ was about to burst free from his chest.

Fear flooded him—fear that Sonic might dig into the true meaning behind those words.

The dread of Sonic’s reaction grew, pressing against him, choking him.

That unpleasant, familiar knot settled in his throat, closing it tight. The sensations overwhelmed him, new yet exasperating. Everything was anguish.

In an instant, his surroundings distorted.

A bead of sweat slid down his temple.

Anxiety climbed to its peak.

Palms trembling, slick with sweat.

Breath shallow, uneven.

Sonic noticed immediately.

He saw how Shadow was once again retreating into the prison of his own thoughts.

What the hell have you done?

How will you explain it now?

Don’t you see how he is—hesitant, uncomfortable?

Just when he felt safe enough to share something so personal, to be honest beside us…

You had to ruin it, didn’t you?

Selfish.

You’re disgusting.

He’ll leave.

Because of you.

He trembled.

“Shadow!”

...

That voice...

Whose was it?...

He couldn't make it out among the many other voices in his head, amid his ragged gasps, amid his racing heartbeat.

Could it be…?

No… it couldn't be…

But he clung to the idea that it was.

She… she had come close to him.

She trusted him.

She loved him and saw him as an equal.

She treated him as more than just her only chance at life.

She had shared her greatest wish: to live on Earth.

To see sunsets. To breathe real air again.

And what had he done? He failed her.

He let every dream be stripped away, every light extinguished, every chance stolen.

He failed.

He allowed her to die before his eyes.

And afterward, he betrayed her in the worst way: forgetting her wish to protect the planet she so dearly loved.

It was his fault.

Always.

Even if he lost his memory.

Even if he convinced himself that the past no longer haunted him.

Even if he made amends for his mistakes.

Even if he formed new bonds.

Guilt would always haunt him.

Everything seemed to grow dark.

All his fear of rejection began to surface.

But, unexpectedly… he felt a strange warmth on his shoulders.

Firm hands held him up, saving him from drowning in self-contempt.

His daze began to fade.

Somehow, this gesture evoked something… a memory. That familiar warmth was something he knew. He had felt it before.

That day.

A day he swore he had buried deep within his mind.

꒰💌꒱

 「 1951 – Space Colony Ark 」

.

.

.

“Valentine’s Day? Do you know what that is, Shadow?”

The blonde asked, puzzled by the sudden question about the meaning of that word.

A claw pointed at the magazine turned toward María. Its cover was filled with famous products of the nineties, things the hedgehog neither knew nor understood. In one corner, a bright red heart illustration shouted ‘Valentine’s,’ speaking of gifts and lovers. María’s sky-blue eyes lit up with a wide smile, reflecting her delight at the image before her.

“Ah, of course! Valentine’s Day is in a few days! How could I forget?” she exclaimed, hurrying toward the old calendar hanging on the white-painted wall.

Shadow sat in his morning check-up, machines and cables attached to his chest, which had a patch of white hair, monitoring his pulse and chaos energy. His crimson eyes watched curiously, feet dangling above the floor.

“Let’s see, today’s the thirteenth, so… it’s tomorrow!”

María’s excited cry echoed through the sterile room. She turned quickly, disconnecting the cables from Shadow with playful haste. He raised a brow, confused.

“What are you doing? I still have to wait for—”

“No time!” she interrupted, pulling him down from the bed, grasping his gloved hand, guiding him out with urgency.

Shadow followed without protest, as he always did, though still dazed by her sudden spontaneity. He glanced back to ensure no one noticed their escape, then returned his gaze to María. 

“Where are we going?” he asked, watching her golden hair flow, strands parting to reveal glimpses of her blue dress as she moved.

“You’ll see,” she sang, laughter trailing behind her as she dragged Shadow through the vast corridors of the colony.

When they arrived, María eaned against a cold wall to catch her breath. Shadow, accustomed to these situations, approached concerned, but she waved him off gently with a gesture that said, “I’m fine.” That was enough to calm him a bit.

Inside the kitchen, Shadow watched her move from side to side, arms full of ingredients. His head tilted, curiosity alive. 

“I still don’t understand the purpose of this.”

María dropped everything onto the white counter. “Isn’t it obvious? We’re making cookies! Grandpa taught me how. They’re perfect for tomorrow!” she said, organizing the ingredients with focus.

Shadow frowned, uncertain if they were allowed there.

“I’m sure we can’t be here without authorization, María,” he warned, arms crossed, his voice soft enough to be ignored.

Still, he stayed alert in case a scientist entered. He never spoke to the staff, always distant. But with Gerald—and especially with María—he could relax, communicate freely.

So much so that some questioned whether this was truly the dangerous weapon the government demanded.

María finally faced him, smiling, amused by how Shadow barely stood taller than the kitchen table. She laughed softly, walking toward him.

Dangerous? To her, he was nothing but the “Ultimate Form of Tenderness”!

“Oh, come on, everyone knows me here. Besides, it’s for a special occasion. Trust me, everyone loves cookies on Valentine’s Day.” She raised a finger as if it were scientific proof, winking when Shadow frowned.

Shadow still didn’t understand. What was so special about receiving sugar-laden food on a specific day? Yet, despite his ignorance, he helped.

María handed him ingredients, reciting instructions. Shadow followed without hesitation, slowly finding satisfaction in stirring mixtures, even enjoying shaping the dough before placing it in the oven.

The mission was, in its way, a success.

In the end, they ended up with their faces covered in flour and a strict ban on entering the kitchen, but he had to admit—hiding a slight smile—that he didn't regret it either.

The morning after, the calendars displayed the date: February fourteenth.

The atmosphere was heavy with the cold of the Ark, desolate and bleak. Yet no one seemed to mind. Most of the staff savored María’s—and Shadow’s—homemade cookies. The aroma was delightful, complementing the sweetness that lingered on their tongues with satisfying warmth. Shadow had never tasted anything like it in all his artificial life.

The scene felt alien to him: scientists, whom he thought would never step outside their professional shells, now laughed and embraced one another. Gerald had spread the news that his beloved granddaughter had brought a surprise for everyone—cookies, warm, in different shapes and colors. Many abandoned their duties across the colony just to join this small celebration.

“Now do you see?”

He turned to her, confused. 

“See what?”

“The specialness of this day. The cookies we made, though they may seem small, are filled with meaning.”

At that moment, Shadow did not understand what the blonde meant.

A cookie was delicately placed in his gloved hand. It was glazed in deep blue, sprinkled with tiny white specks, imitating stars.

“People enjoy details like these for the sweetness, but they’re also a way to say what words cannot." She lifted her own cookie to her clear eyes, lowering one lid with a radiant smile. “You can convey deep affection when you don’t know how to express it or when words fall short. At least that’s what Grandpa told me. In my family, there used to be a tradition of baking cookies for this day.”

Was that true?

The hedgehog glanced around again, his brow faintly furrowed. The changed atmosphere, the closeness of people, the warmth of the cookie in his hand.

Shadow lowered his head, staring at the cookie once more.

If that gesture was what made the day special…

Did it also make him part of it?

( . . . )

He did not know what time it was. 

The room was completely dark, save for the single source of light at its center.

The glow came from within the improvised fortress of blankets and pillows, flickering with the shifting scenes of the movie.

Shadow toyed with the last kernels of popcorn, the bowl holding nothing but salt and remnants. His calves lifted, feet moving up and down in rhythm, his gaze wandering away from the screen.

To crown the day, María had wanted to end with a romantic film. 

He liked movies. 

But not this one.

His crimson eyes lifted to María, confusion etched in them.

Her pale face was flushed, cheeks wet with tears, delicate hands folded tightly in her lap, soothing the ache in her chest.

Shadow saw the crystalline shimmer in her eyes.

And he could not understand the reason for it.

The woman inside the talking box with a screen was kneeling, digging her own nails into her knees while breaking down in tears over the farewell of her ‘beloved.’ The world around her was cruel: rain lashed the pavement, the sky cloaked in night and gray clouds, the dim glow of streetlamps deepening the sorrow of the scene.

Minutes earlier, the film had been cheerful, with lively songs and bright introductions—typical for the era. But suddenly, the story twisted.

The man she loved had always been married. She discovered it only by overhearing a phone call with his wife. For the convenience of the script, ten minutes before the film’s end.

The man had boasted of charm and splendid words throughout the story. Everything had seemed painted in rosy hues.

How could the girl—so naïve, so enchanted—not see the truth? How could she defend, with all her heart, the fantasy of a romance sweet to the point of being cloying, unreal, existing only in fiction?

Well, it was fiction.

And so, Shadow frowned at the screen, devoid of empathy.

It seemed absurd. 

She could have chosen someone less deceitful. Why cling to such drama over a shattered illusion?

It was not worth it. 

It would not be the end of the world to let go of an impossible love.

Music from piano and violin, synchronized in a melancholic cadence, accompanied the final scene as the credits rolled. María sniffled softly, wiping her tear-stained cheeks with the backs of her hands.

“That’s the end?” Shadow tilted his head incredulously, resting it on the palm of his hand. The glow in his crimson eyes reflected the monochrome credits drifting upward.

“Didn’t it feel… unexpected? They looked so happy, all that illusion only to end in the worst way,” the blonde murmured, her gaze heavy with sorrow for the film’s protagonist.

Shadow scoffed, turning his eyes toward her.

“What’s the point of calling it a romantic movie if they don’t end up together?”

María fell into thought, her gaze shifting between the screen and Shadow’s inquisitive eyes. She exhaled through her nose, fingers lazily combing through her golden hair.

“I… I suppose… not every story needs a happy ending.”

The names continued to descend slowly, too slow for the impatient, each one destined to be forgotten once the credits ended. The music remained steady, unchanging, yet it left a mark on both hearts gathered in that room.

“Why?”

María parted her lips slightly, surprised and hesitant. Shadow’s brow furrowed in confusion.

“Why should it be different? Aren’t they all the same?” His voice carried a demanding edge, like a child who cannot grasp the reasons behind the world.

“Oh, I… I wish I knew too.”

Silence filled the room. Not discomfort, not discouragement—uncertainty. Fantasies distorted by the night’s veil.

The main reason Shadow liked movies was because of their fairy-tale-like plots. He saw them as something magical and unattainable, something he began to long for with every hour he spent watching them. That prejudiced view of the outside world had been instilled in him from an early age: a vast expanse of selfishness, injustice, and despair. That’s why those stories, the saturated colors, and the unique vibe the screen offered him completely transformed his perspective. For a moment, he saw the world through the blonde girl’s eyes.

And because of that, he had begun to dream of having something similar.

“María, will I… end like that?”

Her name pulled her from her thoughts. She raised her brows, searching Shadow’s face, confused.

“What do you mean?”

The hedgehog bit his lip, ears folding back involuntarily. 

“I mean… without a happy ending.”

The vibrant spark in her blue eyes dimmed, pierced by the bluntness of his words. Shadow swallowed hard, unwillingly. He turned away, ashamed. He hadn’t meant it. He felt foolish, childish. What was he saying? The words were absurd the moment they left his mouth.

He? An artificial creature with alien DNA, created to serve a responsibility imposed before he had consciousness? Of course sweet, beautiful happy endings were not meant for him. Beings designed for destruction were not meant for such finales.

They belonged to people as pure and radiant as the blonde girl he adored.

His mind raced, searching for an excuse, a comment to dissolve the awkwardness he had caused. He opened his mouth, stammering, a rough sound escaping.

And when he finally thought of something, a pair of arms wrapped around him.

He felt a familiar warmth on his shoulders.

A pair of firm hands held him steady.

He didn’t realize when María had already begun to embrace him. His gloved hands trembled, and when her honeyed voice whispered in his ear, something inside him snapped.

“Shadow, you deserve so much more than you think… don’t let anyone make you think otherwise.”

His fingers curled, digging into the fabric of the blue dress at his disposal.

The blonde’s tone wavered; she swallowed hard, her throat tight, before uttering the next words:

“And if anything happens… remember that all this time, you’ve never stopped being loved.”

The hedgehog’s grip tightened the more he felt the urge to hold on to something. His crimson eyes, shining in the unbroken gloom, fixed on the pillows piled behind María’s back.

If something happened to her… what would become of him?

“Even if you don’t get a happy ending, you’ll never be alone.”

Shadow can’t imagine a world without her.

With a trembling sigh, he buried his nose into the shoulder of the girl who was his best friend, his sister in spirit.

The television screen lay completely dark.

No more words were spoken that night. They remained in a needed embrace.

At some point, they lay down upon the nest of blankets, bodies sheltered in the warm refuge they had built, protecting and consoling each other, forgetting for a few hours the forced future looming ahead.

María fell into Morpheus’ arms, her slow breathing the only sound in the quiet.

Shadow often stayed awake to watch over her. But the cause of his sleeplessness that night was not only her.

Even if you don’t have a happy ending…

Though they never touched the subject again, he feared it might truly be so.

꒰💌꒱

The silence of the apartment was broken when the front door clicked shut, loud enough to drag an echo across the cold, desolate space. The keys, dangling from his curved fingers, chimed faintly before he dropped them carelessly onto the low table by the entrance.

He hadn’t used Chaos Control this time.

The air trapped in his lungs escaped slowly, unevenly, through his nose.

He swallowed with difficulty.

His feet wouldn't move from the doorway. The hand that had been holding the keys trembled, as did the other. His crimson eyes—dazzling and yet dull in the darkness—stung from the moisture in his corneas after suppressing his emotions all the way to his residence, home, or whatever it was he had.

What had he done?

Why had he said that?

With the little willpower left, he moved his right foot first, then dragged the left. He leaned against the wall when nausea rose, his heartbeat quickening. A broken groan escaped as the tears he had avoided for so long finally spilled, thin salty lines marking a path down the dark fur of his cheeks.

His hand clenched against the wall, and with teeth grinding, he struck the concrete in a burst of frustration, anger, and helplessness. The room trembled faintly, lamps swayed, and a crack spread above his trembling fist. Tiny orange sparks flickered across his knuckles for a heartbeat before vanishing into the dark. Only the natural glow of his shattered crimson eyes remained, fixed on nothing, heavy with despair.

Why hadn’t he walked away when he could?

What sense was there in offering himself?

His dragging, faltering steps carried him to the living room, flashes of that moment attacking him.

"Shadow!"

A shiver bristled down his spines. For some reason, it was colder inside than out.

He turned toward the vast window, the city stretching before him—buildings clawing at the sky, endless mortal lights, colorful and flickering everywhere he looked.

He sighed audibly, gripping the armrest of the absurdly expensive black modular sofa at the center of the room. The apartment had come furnished by G.U.N. He cared little for luxury; a place sufficient for basic needs was enough. But Commander Abraham had insisted: “Everything must be the best if you are to protect the world with us.”

Sure.

With the detail that he had to share the floor with Team Dark.

At that moment, he was grateful Rouge and Omega were absent. He hated giving explanations.

Shadow closed his eyes, trying to steady his breathing, to stop feeling pathetic, to ease the tightness in his chest. But the memories of less than an hour ago still tormented him.

“Shadow! Look at me. Breathe!”

For a moment, he was back there, seated on the grass.

The jolt shook his shoulders, his own ragged breath the first sound he heard upon returning to awareness. His heartbeat thundered in his ears, his chest constricted, refusing air. He couldn’t move—his legs, arms, hands were frozen. But his shoulders… His shoulders were held by a different weight. Hands pressed firmly, anchoring him back to reality.

The very same hands that gave him the warmth he associated with the one he once had.

And ever since blue was the only thing that stood out in his field of vision...

That’s when he understood.

“Shadow, calm down.”

The touch on his shoulders grew firmer.

“Easy, breathe.”

The voice calling him was never María.

It was Sonic, whispering those words, leaning forward, closing the distance to break into the torment of Shadow’s mind. Though he could feel Sonic’s breath, the closeness was not invasive, not alarming.

“Breathe in, breathe out.” Sonic’s gaze never left Shadow’s trembling eyes, his expression focused, searching for the cause of his state. “You must—”

He was cut off when the ebony body lurched forward, trapping Sonic in what seemed a clumsy attempt at a hug. As if losing balance, Shadow’s first instinct was to cling to the only thing within reach.

Shadow’s eyes were open, unfocused, staring into nothing. His ears folded, spines tense.

The hero froze, hands still on Shadow’s shoulders. Their heartbeats mingled as their chests met.

Shadow hadn’t thought—he simply moved, as if some external force had called him.

His fingers brushed Sonic’s soft blue fur, with a mix of reverence and fear at what it stirred within him. Why was it so warm? So soft? So… addictive?

The fear crushing his chest, the insecurity, the trembling of his fingers at such closeness—all of it was more real than he could bear.

Yet the calming sensation was there. Sonic was there. And he would not let him go.

Sonic was speechless. Should he return the gesture? For him, Shadow behaving this way was impossible to believe.

His mechanical footsteps carried him to his room. He walked the length of the hallway with slumped shoulders, head bowed, eyes lost. Still, he sought unconditional support from the wall, dragging his bare fingers along the white surface as he moved; the faint brush of his paw beans against the paint tickled. Minutes earlier, in the main room, he had rid himself of heavy shoes, socks, and gloves to ease the suffocating sensation.

According to Mobian culture, uncovered hands and feet were the equivalent of a human stripped of clothing. Though he barely understood such customs, one could say that now, in this moment, he was exposing his vulnerability to the apartment itself.

He sighed, weary, this time without mimicking a sob, standing before his door. His eyelids weighed like lead, his limbs begged for rest.

When Sonic arrived at the lavender field, he felt it—the tension caught in the air. From the stiffness of Shadow’s rehearsed movements, he finally understood something he had ignored all along:

Shadow did not want him there.

But not out of disdain, not out of dislike.

It was more complex than that.

And the fact that this scene between them unfolded… only complicated things further.

Sonic’s gloved hands hesitated, then slowly encircled Shadow’s obsidian shoulders. He lowered his head, resting his cheek against the striped quills; emerald eyes watched as Shadow’s subtly pointed ears folded back.

Sonic narrowed his gaze, sensing how his companion’s anxiety eased little by little through the contact. The moment was not as jarring as he had first imagined; his usually restless body calmed in rhythm with Shadow’s regulated breaths. Each deep inhalation lifted the dark back, contracting the chest covered in white fur. Each soft exhalation loosened the tension in his arms, blending into the cold night breeze. Shadow’s body was cold, yet Sonic felt the gentle warmth seeping through his gloves into his fur.

After a minute, Shadow released one last sigh against Sonic’s peach-colored chest. He pulled away slowly, deliberately avoiding eye contact.

A subtle distance appeared between them. Shadow perceived it as a wall.

“Are you alright?” Sonic asked, solemn, with shades of concern.

Shadow shook his head weakly, shrugging off the hands resting on his shoulders. “Forget… forget it. Just… forget this happened,” he muttered, still trying to hide his head between his shoulders, dragging a hand briefly across his embarrassed face before letting it fall into his lap.

Sonic lowered his gaze, noticing Shadow’s fists trembling ever so slightly. He exhaled softly through his nose, with understanding.

“No. Forgive me, Shadow.”

Shadow lifted his head slightly, startled; his ears twitched at the sound.

“I know I kinda showed up out of the blue... and you probably weren’t exactly in the mood to deal with me.” Sonic looked away for a moment. “But I just really needed to get this off my chest. To talk to someone who doesn’t already have me figured out... someone who isn’t gonna judge me for every dumb mistake I’ve made. Y'know?”

Shadow’s lips curved faintly.

If only Sonic knew how often Shadow chased him…

For a long moment, crimson met emerald. Sonic offered a sideways, reassuring smile as he held Shadow’s hesitant gaze—the one begging him not to continue speaking.

“Even with Tails being busy lately, I’m pretty sure he noticed something was off the second the party got announced.” He let out a quiet sigh. “I’d tell him, too. There's nobody I trust more than my little brother. But... every time I thought about bringing it up, I just... couldn’t.” 

Sonic paused for a moment. 

“I kept wondering why. Guess I finally figured it out.”

Shadow furrowed his brow slightly. That doubt still gnawed at him intensely, which was why Sonic had turned to him instead of his best friends.

Was it really just to avoid going to trial?

For what, to begin with?

“I already know what he’s gonna say. I just don’t think I’m ready to hear it.”

Neither dared to speak after that. Yet the earlier discomfort slowly eased, no longer suffocating them after opening up, after showing vulnerability to one another. Sonic cleared his throat, reorganizing his thoughts, fixing his gaze on Shadow.

“I know you’re just as bad at this stuff as I am, Shads.” A small grin tugged at Sonic’s lips, earning a quiet growl in return. He shrugged. “Still... talking to you actually helped. I’m not asking you to fix anything or tell me what to do. I just needed someone to listen.”

His smile softened. Shadow raised his head completely, focusing on those specific words.

“Figured... if anyone might get where I’m coming from, it’d be you.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Heh, guess I’m not as good at this whole feelings thing as I thought.”

Sonic might have been implying that neither of them had the slightest idea how to handle a relationship—or that he was a hopeless loner—and still, Shadow did not react defensively.

Because it was true.

He was terrible at understanding relationships, people, feelings.

Silence stretched. Sonic coughed lightly, hand brushing through his quills, breaking eye contact—except for Shadow, who kept his attention fixed on the cobalt hedgehog.

While Sonic retreated into his thoughts, Shadow admired how the moonlight outlined the blue spines. He etched into his mind—into that space reserved only for Sonic—the body language that could never be hidden by smiles, jokes, or indifferent words.

Shadow fought to remain impassive, ignoring the tension in his hands and the deliberate rhythm of his breathing 

His heart begged for mercy, desperate to release the feelings that only tightened their grip with every heartbeat. Yet his reasoning demanded he end this vile feeling once and for all.

Bury it.

Lock it away.

Pretend it had never existed.

The only reason he remained here was to rid himself of his obsession with Sonic, to prove he did not need him in his life at all.

Until now, he had done nothing but lie—to Sonic… and to himself.

What stopped him from continuing?

If he pretended there was no problem… if he helped Sonic be with Amy… He would have no choice but to step away, resign himself to being only a friendly rival, the sparring partner always ready to argue over trivialities, to compete endlessly, to be nothing more than the bitter antihero.

Nothing more.

If he convinced his heart he had overcome it… perhaps he would no longer dream of impossible endings.

It was better for them both.

Sonic would be happy with Amy at his side, and Shadow would return to seek his own hollow happiness in monotony.

As always.

As it was meant to be.

Both hedgehogs were possessed by their own inner turmoil. Each focused on finding a way out. Each with someone different in their heart. Both were searching desperately for something to save them from shipwreck, something that could change the course of things from that very moment.

One had already decided.

The murmur of the grass pulled Shadow down from the clouds: Sonic leapt to his feet, stretching his back in a perfect arc, his limbs, ears, and tail trembling as he released a deliberate, weary groan.

“Ah, welp. Gotta go. If I wanna come up with something original for the party, I better start thinking now.” He scratched his cheek with a crooked smile, looking at the vegetation around them, the fireflies glowing, the moon above… anywhere but at the striped hedgehog.

Shadow’s heartbeat quickened, pounding against his throat.

He swallowed hard.

It was now or never.

“Thanks for staying to listen, Shads,” Sonic spoke gently, lowering his gaze to the seated hedgehog. “I won’t bother you anymore.”

Sonic turned halfway, granting him one last fleeting glance.

As he turned fully, a shadow of uncertainty crossed his face. Lips pressed tight, repeating to himself that this was necessary, he prepared to dash away.

But just as he was about to flee, a sober voice—tinged with exasperation—stopped him in his tracks.

“Wait.”

He could feel his heartbeat in his throat. Shadow slowly sat up, propping himself up on one knee. Thousands of voices crowded in, whispering in his ear, like an annoying mosquito buzzing nearby, that he’d regret it, but not to back down...

Because now there was no turning back.

His breathing stayed measured.

His hands did not.

They refused to stop shaking.

The voices guided his steps, pushing him toward the terrifying edge that, once crossed, would slam shut the door on his schoolboy infatuation. Yet that stage resisted, selfish, unwilling to keep admiring Sonic from afar, unwilling to see him as an unreachable ending, unwilling to see anyone else at his side.

“Hmm?” Sonic turned, raising a brow.

That stage wanted to prove it was not a passing pain.

It thundered in his ears:

Tell him.

Shadow, what are you doing?

Say what you’ve kept hidden.

Shadow, leave.

Don’t let him escape.

Shadow, let me go.

Confess it.

Shadow, please…

Confess it.

There’s no reason for me to stay here.

Confess it!

Shadow halted, inhaling deeply, nostrils flaring, exhaling bitterly.

Enough.

He nearly shouted to silence them. A sign he had to hurry and end this.

Sonic frowned.

Something in Shadow filled him with immense skepticism.

As if there were something strange—stranger than usual—about him. Perhaps his abrupt change in behavior? The sudden anxiety attack Sonic had witnessed?

Emerald eyes, bright as beacons, locked onto the ebony hedgehog. A chill surged down Shadow’s spine.

His quills stiffened, his hands clenched.

Sonic waited, pausing his steps to listen.

Shadow’s subconscious begged him to retreat, knowing that what he was about to say was not what he truly wanted. His heart could not, would not, let the words escape. Yet…

He knew it no longer mattered what he chose.

It was already too late.

So before he could regret it, with turmoil twisting in his stomach, the words spilled out unbidden.

“I’ll help you, Sonic.”

…

The cobalt hedgehog was taken by surprise. His green eyes widened in shock.

“…Huh?”

His inhibitor rings echoed as his body collapsed onto the cold bed of disordered sheets. The silence within the four walls was sepulchral. Shadow did not bother to turn on the lights, leaving himself surrounded by darkness, reigning absolutely in his room.

He lazily tilted his head into the pillow, his languid expression worsened by dark circles and the mental exhaustion reflected in his sorrowful gaze. The repetitive echo of why he did it would not let him sleep tonight, nor tomorrow, nor in the days to come.

He regretted it.

Chaos, he was an idiot.

After all the chances that had crossed his path, after holding in his hands the perfect moment to perform the brave act of confessing his feelings—even knowing they would never be reciprocated.

He kept choking the words back, even when every part of him begged to let them out. 

The place was a disaster: pairs of dirty socks and gloves, wrappers scattered across the floor that had crunched beneath his steps toward the bed, and no morning or evening light woke him; the curtains had been drawn for weeks, leaving the television atop a dresser as the only source of light.

The air smelled stale, heavy with dust and weeks of neglect. 

Shadow had once liked keeping things in order. He was usually the one to maintain the space clean, to throw away Rouge’s bottles after a bad day, or to wipe away the oil stains Omega never noticed.

But in recent months, his state had been deplorable.

The pleasure he once found in seeing things in their place, brewing coffee without sugar each morning, exfoliating and combing his beloved quills at the precise thirty-degree angle, listening to the playlist he shared with his teammates while polishing his guns until they gleamed…

None of it was the same anymore.

Mission after mission, the constant worry of what would happen to Sonic and himself if his secret ever came to light…

It had consumed him, made him forget the things that kept him alive.

The moment he told Sonic he would help him, he hadn’t even known what he was doing. Before the hero could slip out of reach again, before losing sight of him not knowing if it would be the last time… He rose with a single objective:

To make Amy his Valentine.

"I’ll help you," he had said.

"You can still do something," he had promised.

"If you truly love Amy, I can’t let you go there and make a fool of yourself."

It was more foolish to play Cupid.

Shadow sighed languidly. He had dug his own grave, sabotaged himself on purpose. He would be a bastard to retract now and leave the nervous wreck of a hero to his fate.

When Sonic replayed Shadow’s words in his mind, offering explicit help, he took a moment to respond, staring at him with blatant incredulity. As if doubting or suspecting the sudden will radiating from his rival.

Shadow explained that if he didn’t want the two-tailed fox or any of his friends involved, he could try to prepare him for the night. He was just as bad at this, but perhaps with his cold, precise mind instead of Sonic’s anxious rush, the confession could succeed.

Sonic, frozen at first, sped up to Shadow with wide eyes: “Really?!”

His eyes shone with disbelief.

The corner of his lips lifted timidly.

But the almost-smile quickly faded.

As if he had remembered something important.

He wavered again.

“I mean, Shads… no… it’s not necessary. I wouldn’t wanna cause you more trouble.”

Sonic stepped back. Shadow panicked. He grabbed his arm. “I mean it.”

Sonic looked at him.

“I’ll go to that party… just to see you tell Amy the truth, you hear me?” he said firmly.

Sonic stood on the edge of confusion.

“What?”

Shadow bit his lip nervously.

Come on, sound convincing!

Prove you don’t need Sonic to breathe.

“You'll make a mess of it. Let me help.”

Shadow growled into the pillow.

You'll make a mess of it. Let me help…

Was that the best he could come up with? Really?

As he began to dwell on the previous scene over and over again, Shadow found it hard to breathe. No air could get in through any possible opening because the pillow covered his entire snout, but he decided not to move it aside. The claws on his hands spread wider, almost like those of a cat, digging violently into the soft material where his face remained hidden.

His chest rose and fell frantically due to the lack of oxygen in his lungs. The fabric’s screech rang in his ears as he dug his nails deeper, but he stayed put.

He roared—barely audible—the delicate white feathers spilling out like spilled blood. Every second he spent suffocating under the pillow was agonizing, but he held on.

With his firm grip on that object, he punished himself.

His teeth ground together as he bit down on the surface at his disposal. He clenched his jaw until it trembled.

He was sweating like a wild animal; his hands, clawing at the pillow, trembled slightly. His ears were pinned completely back. The imperceptible tears not only began to stain the pillowcase but also made it easier to suffocate himself.

His heartbeat, one after another, grew more intense, faster, fractured.

Alone. With no one to pity him.

But at last, he pulled away, throwing the pillow aside in rage, torn, feathers scattering behind.

Shadow gasped for air, on his knees, pressing his bare hand against his chest. The pounding against his ribs was strong and clear.

Why did his heart so often feel like it was about to explode?

He turned his head subtly toward where the pillow had landed. It had fallen atop many others in the same condition—victims that had previously endured his fits of rage.

A fragile sigh escaped him. His head throbbed, and the turmoil in his stomach had not settled since crossing the threshold of the apartment.

Though it was the cold season in Central City, his fur was sticky with sweat. He slowly laid his limbs back onto the mattress. Crossing his arms, clutching his shoulders with his hands, he imitated the sensation of being cradled. He drew his legs in, knees rising until they touched his elbows. He curled into a ball, seeking refuge, a sliver of comfort, a familiar warmth to make him forget every adversity.

He closed his eyes with a furrowed brow, forcing himself to lose consciousness, to be in a place where his heart did not race uncontrollably at the mention of Sonic, a place where his feelings did not sabotage his daily life.

A place where Valentine’s Day did not exist.

He lasted only a few minutes like that, fighting to silence the noise in his head, tossing on the bed, muttering incoherencies.

It didn’t work.

He ended up opening his eyes, lying on his back, weary. Sleep would never come that way.

His gaze wandered to the right side of the room. And there, in the corner of the mahogany desk, he glimpsed the glittering shine of pink sparkles.

His brow furrowed deeper. He squinted, blinked, and opened his eyes again, still focusing on that garish color among the dark walls and the towering pile of paperwork, slipping from the edge.

At the summit of those papers, like a divine sign, lay the cherry on top:

The invitation to the party.

The envelope he had forgotten seconds after it was handed to him.

Suddenly his hands itched.

He shivered.

His back lifted; the mattress creaked as he cautiously approached the edge.

His feet brushed the icy floor.

Seated, he clenched the sheet in his fists for a moment—perhaps seeking an anchor to keep him in bed, or simply reacting to a bad premonition.

At first, he had told Sonic there was no reason to attend the party.

But now, thanks to his impulsive outburst, he had to go to collaborate in a confession of love and, with luck, erase a chapter of his life.

But… inside the envelope was the name of the one to whom he must give a gift.

A detail of the festivity. Merely courtesy.

If he was forced to go… the least he could do was fulfill the original purpose of the gathering, right?

How hard could it be to give a gift?

The unrest in his stomach was no longer only from conflicted feelings: a wave of curiosity traveled from the tips of his feet to the last quill on his neck.

He rose from the bed.

Before he realized it, the envelope was being opened by one of his claws.

The heart-shaped seal fluttered down, delicate as a leaf, to the floor. Shadow tore the top open, pulling out the contents with anxious hands.

The scent of a sweet, delicate perfume had been preserved for this moment. The letter was pulled by her fingers. A bit of glitter trapped at the bottom slid down the sides as it was pulled along.

He swallowed involuntarily.

Him? Nervous about who he must give a gift to, for a silly human holiday? Come on.

If it turned out to be someone he had never interacted with, it wouldn’t be a problem. A mug would suffice.

Quick, practical, useful. What more could they want?

Besides, his circle wasn’t large enough to worry…

He unfolded the letter, reading quickly the words written in ink.

“We hope you are doing well. We invite you to enjoy a lovely festivity with us…”

“Without you we could not have achieved…”

“For your hard efforts in battle you deserve a worthy rest, and what better way than celebrating the love and appreciation we share…”

Blah, blah, blah.

He immediately pictured Amy writing the exact same words for every letter.

He shook his head, skipping the cordial paragraph. His eyes stopped at the important part at the end.

For a moment, he imagined the possibility of Rouge or Omega—he knew they would attend.

Ha. If that happened, he wouldn’t even bother finding a nice mug.

“No one should lack a Valentine on such a special day…”

If it were someone he liked and respected, like the humble rabbit he had babysat for a few times, maybe he’d make more effort.

“That is why, when you arrive…”

Shadow was already considering Cream as the recipient before even finishing the final line. The one that would dictate his next decision.

“You will wait eagerly, gift in hand, for your dear companion:…”

His eyes stopped moving.

His body didn't make a single sound.

…

BANG!

The crash of the front door slamming shut at the end of the hallway interrupted him at the most inopportune moment.

“Shadow, you’re back already? Did you finish the mission that quickly?”

Rouge’s voice carried like an unsettling echo all the way to his room.

“I went out with Omega for a bit—we brought takeout! Do you feel like some ta—? Agh!”

From where he was, he heard the bat stumble just in time.

“ROUGE, WATCH WHERE YOU’RE GOING,” Omega warned in his usual tone, devoid of human emotion.

“You’re just telling me that now, Omega?! Shadow! What did I tell you about leaving your damn roller skates lying around! They’re like rocks!”

The paper crumpled. His thumbs squeezed so hard that a hole appeared in the center.

His hands were shaking. The letter nearly slipped away.

“Shadow?”

He didn’t respond to his partner’s call.

He was frozen.

Still processing those five letters in his mind.

“N-no....”

His pupils contracted.

His entire expression was a sight to behold.

“You’ve got to be kidding me…” he said, barely above a broken whisper.

Regret surged through him, sharp and silent, like a shard of glass embedded in his chest.

They always say curiosity killed the cat.

꒰💌꒱

“Roses? Nah… Orchids? Though roses are the classic. Hmm, maybe both.”

Two hours.

Sonic and Shadow had been circling the same shopping district for two hours straight.

The cobalt hedgehog sipped through the straw of his free drink, eyes darting between the bouquets displayed in one of Station Square’s finest flower shops. A cozy red scarf was wrapped around his neck, his gloves swapped for warmer ones. Shadow wore the same dark nylon jacket he always did, standing stoically behind Sonic with arms crossed.

From afar, he looked calm, detached, enjoying a partly sunny day.

Deep inside, the weight gnawed at his core.

They had been wandering in search of the perfect gift—clothes, jewelry, and now flowers. Sonic never thought giving a sweet detail to his longtime friend would be this complicated.

“You don’t know what kind of flower Amy likes?” Shadow asked.

Sonic took another sip, nodding quickly.

“Ever heard of the language of flowers?” He turned his back, lifting his cup slightly, tilting his head just enough to glance at a doubtful Shadow. “I wanna finally put into practice what I’ve learned about it.”

Amy often brought up the topic, being so close to flowers herself. Sonic genuinely paid more attention when she spoke about them than when she hinted at reading his future with tarot.

Why interpret the future through fortune-telling? Sonic thought finding out through cards was boring—no offense to tarot readers. He always said life’s essence was enjoying each moment without knowing what comes next.

Life was more fun when you didn't know what came next. That was the whole point, wasn't it? 

But right now, that belief was losing meaning.

Shadow frowned, understanding even less.

Every so often, he couldn’t help but notice the stares from passersby; more than one eye lingered on his back, seeing him alongside a certain fast, blue presence.

The streets were bustling. Shops overflowed not only with customers but also with hearts, decorations, red everywhere, gift cards, more red, expensive chocolates, seasonal discounts, endless red.

Perfume fragrances mixed in the air, irritating his nose. Outside the flower shop, the natural scent of blossoms tried to mask the chemical storm.

“Uhm…” Shadow narrowed his eyes, chest tight, distracted by the constant gazes. “I don’t think so.”

Sonic nodded.

“Mhm, yeah. I’d be surprised if you did.”

Shadow rolled his eyes, tightening his crossed arms.

“Fine. Wait here.” Sonic tossed his empty cup into a trash bin with perfect aim. “I’ll go check closer.”

Before Shadow could reply, Sonic vanished, leaving behind a streak of blue and a gust that lifted dry leaves from the pavement. The sharp ring of the shop bell was the only clue to his whereabouts.

Shadow inhaled, head lowered.

Alone again.

The dynamic was simple: wandering aimlessly, no clear destination, no results.

Sonic dashed into every shop that caught his eye, hoping to find the ultimate gift to end his insecurity. Two misfit Mobians debating what could suit a personality so complete like Amy: kind, sweet, honest, strong, pleasant… For Sonic, the list was endless.

Sonic had never faced a dilemma of this magnitude before… or rather, he had never had to consider such a wide variety of options, all of which were equally appealing.

Although, to tell the truth, Sonic had previously told his rival what he had initially imagined: a different scenario, nothing like the lavish one he now desired.

He imagined borrowing Amy after the party, running with her through fields, rolling in the grass like in cheesy romance movies.

Talking about anything, laughing, sharing smiles.

Then confessing naturally, like a casual comment, something obvious Amy had always been waiting for.

And, likewise, he mentioned it to Shadow as the most common thing that existed.

Shadow hadn’t known what to say.

It was perfect.

He hadn’t slept, thinking of countless ideas for the confession that wasn’t his.

However, he ended up learning that this wasn't necessary.

Sonic himself rejected the idea at the last minute.

“I think it’s better to step out of my comfort zone.”

That’s what he said, with a shy smile.

“I don't wanna just do what I always do.”

And Shadow hadn’t questioned it.

Because what could he say?

He felt that whatever Sonic wanted would be so. Even though this act of his was a form of repression disguised as sympathy.

Shadow exhaled heavily, letting out a sigh he hadn't realized he was holding in.

Valentine’s Day was tomorrow.

Sonic might find the perfect bouquet.

But Shadow… needed to think fast.

Second place had never suited him

Without the hero present, he could break his disinterested facade a little, looking in all directions with an altered demeanor; his feet, which had been stuck in the cement of the sidewalk thanks to the amount of time he had been standing there doing nothing, began to walk with accelerated discretion.

Moving nimbly across the square, dodging anyone who crossed his path, he scanned every shop window, every gift bag in hand, every bright color calling out to him with his trained eyes.

Until he stopped. Nose twitching.

“That smell… where…?”

He turned abruptly to one side, startling a mother carrying her child, who quickly moved away when the hybrid hedgehog stared at her. But it wasn't her that was upsetting him.

 He walked a few steps through the crowd until the wave of obstacles dispersed.

From a distance, the source of the exquisite aroma that had drawn him here like honey to bears was gradually revealed to him: once his view was no longer obstructed, Shadow could see the inconspicuous cookie stand, where a brown bear Mobian no older than thirteen was struggling to sell them.

 “Cookies! Delicious Valentine’s cookies! Come get yours!”

The stand’s banner read: “Fall in love at first bite.”

People walking around had to go around Shadow to get past him as he stood still in the middle of the pedestrian zone. The hedgehog stood petrified, his expression unchanged, but internally shaken.

Like a spark in his brain, memories of cold corridors and a vast kitchen returned. Flour’s texture, muffled laughter, sugar in the air, oven heat.

A couple approached the girl. She handed them a box tied with a perfect red bow. They left smiling, sharing the warm box, each holding it together. Shadow watched until they disappeared.

“Is that what you meant?” he whispered to the wind, imagining the exact scene in which the voice in his head asked him something that he couldn't answer at the time.

The turmoil in his chest eased, as if witnessing this was the remedy he needed.

The soles of his shoes crunched on the pavement as he took a shuffling step.

He paused to think about it for a few seconds, hesitant.

Was this enough? Was this what he lacked?

Nevertheless, before he could move again, a familiar voice stopped him.

“Shadow! There you are, man!”

His peripheral vision caught the flash of blue fur.

“I’ve been looking for you. Why'd you wander off?”

Sonic appeared at his side, hand on his hip, not serious at all. Shadow noticed the bouquet in his hand—roses. He raised a brow.

“You wanted to ditch me? Thought you were committed.” Sonic rolled his eyes, shaking the bouquet a bit.

Shadow exhaled, shaking his head. “Finished? Let’s go.” He brushed past Sonic, lightly catching his wrist to steer him toward the exit. 

“Whoa! Hey! What’s the rush? Aren’t you gonna hear my beautiful monologue about why I picked these—?”

“There’s still work to do, and half the day left. No time.” Shadow cut him off, glancing at the pink and red roses wrapped in fine silk. “Save your flower lecture for the party.”

Sonic snorted, hugging the bouquet to his chest as Shadow released him.

“Alright. Then we’d better hurry.”

Shadow shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, his stride firm, determined.

Yes. Better to hurry now that he had an idea in mind.

( . . . )

The Restoration group had planned to celebrate outside their headquarters on this special day, also taking it as a well‑deserved break after months of protecting Mobius from Doctor Robotnik’s schemes. Most of the main cast was present. Amy, the main organizer, chatted with Vanilla, Cream’s mother, about the food to be shared soon. Knuckles was in a heated argument with Rouge over something irrelevant—though to the others watching, it looked suspiciously like their usual way of flirting.

The Diamond Cutters, the Chaotix, and even the inseparable duo of Silver and Blaze had managed to attend.

But someone was missing.

Shadow scanned the area, searching for that hedgehog he knew too well. Ironic that the fastest thing alive was always late to these kinds of events.

Cursing inwardly, Shadow sighed, exhausted both physically and mentally. He crossed his arms, as usual.

He was used to this, but it didn’t make it less irritating.

He and Sonic had agreed that Sonic needed to arrive on time for the gift exchange—even if the plan was for Sonic to be the last to give his gift to Amy, to make the declaration more “emotional and dramatic.” Still, that didn’t excuse being late, and Shadow had made that clear.

But what could I expect from a whirlwind of energy that never stops to think twice?

He looked up once more at the others standing there. As expected, he was the only one standing apart from the group. As he looked with distaste at the excessive decorations hanging from the ceiling, his eyes inadvertently met those of the Mobian he least wanted to see right now.

When the pink hedgehog spotted him too, she gave him an instinctive smile, causing Shadow’s quills to bristle with fear as he realized she was waving goodbye to Vanilla with a small gesture before heading straight toward him.

Mechanically, Shadow looked away and turned his body slightly, as if to avoid the awkward encounter, but it was already too late for that, knowing that Amy had already noticed his presence.

Shadow wasn’t mentally prepared yet for what was coming.

Amy approached Shadow, radiating an abundance of her positive energy.

“Shadow! I’m so glad you came! Honestly, I thought you’d skip this.”

Shadow squeezed his eyes shut at the sound of her voice. Slowly, he turned, masking his face with his usual stoic expression. 

“Hello, Rose. Yeah… let’s just say today’s an exception.” His tone was flat, as if Rouge had dragged him here against his will.

Amy tilted her head curiously.

“Oh, so you are giving a gift? Wow, hehe. I didn’t think you’d actually read the invitation.” She giggled softly, brushing the tips of her quills with her fingers, a shy note in her voice.

“Yeah,” Shadow replied after a long pause. “Looks like they assigned me a terrible Valentine just to ruin my day.”

Amy laughed sincerely. “Assigned? No, no. It was all random.”

Amy found what Shadow said amusing because, regardless of who the “lucky one” was, she had a feeling that Shadow wouldn't be entirely enthusiastic about it anyway.

Shadow blinked slowly.

Random?

He had thought Amy herself had chosen who gave gifts to whom. In his mind, she was the little angel firing heart‑shaped arrows at the unlucky ones.

“Jewel wrote the invitations and randomly divided the couples. As far as I know, it took her about two full days to complete, adding to the fact that she also committed to decorating the envelopes. I just helped with the delivery. I've never seen her so motivated!” She interlaces her hands, raising them to her cheeks, touched by her friend's generous act.

Oh.

Therefore, Amy hadn’t drowned his envelope in glitter.

Moreover, it didn't end there: it means that if she is participating blindly, then she has no idea what awaits her.

Shadow didn't know if this affected or improved Sonic's extremely unexpected act.

They had... okay, he didn't.

Sonic had to convince Blaze—with Marine being another witness who can confirm this—to let him be Amy's “Valentine.”

Well, he didn't have much luck with his invitation.

But how did Sonic know that Blaze was the one he was looking for in the first place? Well, a hedgehog doesn't reveal his secrets—those that can be summed up as having unmatched speed in all kinds of areas, including gossiping.

Sonic wanted Amy to be surprised when she saw who supposedly represented her Valentine giving a gift to another individual, which was a little cruel at first glance. However, it was the main factor that would make the unexpected and emotional part of the plan they put together come true.

It was really both their fault for assuming that Amy had absolutely everything planned out.

Just in case, Shadow will let Sonic know about this discovery once he arrives—if he does.

He might forget that detail.

Shadow drifted from the conversation, only nodding absently. Until suddenly he realized something.

“Uh… who’s Jewel?”

Yes, on top of that, he had no idea who they were talking about.

Was he embarrassed? No. Not about that; rather, he was extremely embarrassed to be standing there.

Shadow had never experienced embarrassment as often as he had this past week.

Amy waved it off. “Don’t worry, I’ll introduce you later.”

Shadow hummed, eyes wandering to the Mobians behind her. He barely recognized Silver and a few others who had worked with Sonic before.

“Is that your gift?” Amy pointed at the small black box wrapped in a red ribbon. Shadow glanced down, momentarily forgetting he held it.

“Uh, yeah, but it’s nothing special,” he said quickly, lifting the rectangular box and staring at it longer than usual.

“Well… what matters is the thought.” Amy smiled gently, lowering her gaze as she thought of her own gift. “I’ve tried to stay calm, but I can’t wait for the exchange to start. Don’t you feel the same?”

Shadow nodded.

Not so sure this time.

They chatted a few more minutes before Amy excused herself to help start the event. Shadow waved her off slowly, watching her disappear from view.

If he had to be honest, Shadow imagined that their interaction would be extremely awkward—at least on his part. But after exchanging a few words, his nerves faded away. He assumed it was because he considered Amy to be one of the few people close to him, despite everything. It wasn't the first time he had enjoyed her company.

He didn’t understand why he had been so defensive at first.

Not until a strong breeze swept through the crowd, stirring dust, tablecloths, and heart‑shaped balloons.

Sonic appeared, his arrival marked by impetuous speed.

The crowd greeted him with cheers and smiles. Shadow remembered instantly why he felt nervous, uncomfortable, and reluctant to be here.

Automatically, he tightened his grip on the gift box. Thanks to this, he was able to react quickly, hiding the gift from the sight of others by tucking it inside his quills.

In less than a minute, Sonic was at his side, radiating freedom and boundless energy.

“Shaads! All set, right?” he asked playfully, draping his arm over Shadow’s shoulder.

Shadow narrowed his eyes, removing the arm from his space. Sonic’s emotions were practically visible from afar.

“The real question is if you’re ready,” Shadow replied, suspicious. Sonic grinned, rocking on his heels with his hands behind his back.

However, Shadow could smell the doubt still clinging to him.

He sighed, leaning closer, lowering his voice so only Sonic could hear. “You know this’ll blow up if you’re not sure of yourself.”

“Oh, c’mon…” Sonic scoffed, wearing a perfected mask of confidence. “You think I can’t do it? I’m Sonic the Hedgehog! This is nothing compared to saving the world, right?”

He laughed nervously, sneaking a glance at Amy in the crowd. Shadow noticed. He didn’t comment—yet.

Placing a hand firmly on Sonic’s shoulder, Shadow made him flinch slightly. Sonic looked him in the eye.

Shadow knew exactly what he was facing.

“Listen closely, hedgehog…” Shadow’s voice was firm, his expression dark. “I swear, if I wasted my time helping you, I’ll make sure everyone here sees just how unbelievably cowardly you are.”

“Co—coward?!” Sonic burst out laughing, expelling all the air from his lungs. He shook his head several times. “Me?! Coward?! Shads…”

He didn’t finish. Shadow clicked his tongue, his hand sliding from Sonic’s shoulder down to his peach‑colored arm, yanking him abruptly closer. “Lower your voice, idiot. It was just a guess, but now I see you really are scared.”

“I’m not scared! I just…!” Sonic cut himself off, sighing deeply, closing his eyes for a few seconds. “It’s just… I feel like I’m here, but my thoughts are somewhere else. I can’t wrap my head around what I’m about to do.”

Head bowed, fists clenched, Sonic admitted it with frustration at himself.

“Hey.”

Sonic didn’t react, lost in his shoes.

“Hey!” Shadow barked again. This time Sonic’s head lifted slowly.

Shadow noticed his ears pulled back slightly and sighed through his nose.

“Remember what we practiced?” Sonic nodded weakly, recalling how Shadow had played Amy’s role—something that could fuel endless teasing and that Sonic would never forget. “Then there’s no reason to back out now, not when you’re this close. You know what you want, so focus only on that… You never give up.”

 Shadow stared into Sonic’s emerald eyes, which met his gaze just as firmly. He sighed again, trying to shake off the suffocating feeling those eyes gave him.

Why did Sonic have to look at him like that?

He didn’t need more reminders that he was the only one who felt this way.

“Besides…” Shadow murmured almost inaudibly, “I’m sure you’ve got nothing to lose. Come on, Amy’s been crazy about you forever. Tonight you won’t run from her—or from that feeling.”

Sonic’s ears perked up cautiously. He looked at Shadow with a subtle sparkle in his eyes.

He smiled, chuckling under his breath.

“Yeah, right…” He glanced at the floor one last time, then widened the grin across his muzzle. “Thanks again, Shads.”

Another small laugh escaped him. His posture straightened, his relaxed attitude returning.

Shadow heard that laugh as something fleeting.

Something he would end up longing for.

He nodded curtly in response. But before he knew it, arms wrapped around his shoulders at impossible speed. Sonic gave him a bear hug, lifting his left leg involuntarily.

A sudden, clingy hug—typical Sonic.

“Aaw, what would I do without you, Faker?”

Shadow stiffened, breath caught from the blue hedgehog’s overwhelming strength. He froze, processing the shock of the gesture.

“Guess it’s time to enjoy my last moments of single life,” Sonic joked in a sing‑song tone near his ear, smiling lightly. Shadow felt the warm breath against his skin and froze from head to toe. He couldn’t help but focus entirely on Sonic. “Oh, and in case you’re wondering—yep, I’ll be more responsible, I think… heh.” Sonic kept talking, loosening his grip.

“They always say the right thing is to take a relationship seriously. Pfft, doesn’t make me as free as before…”

Shadow blinked twice, frowning. He felt Sonic’s gloved hands cupping his shoulders.

“Guess that means fewer random run‑ins. You gonna be okay with that, buddy?”

The word—more like an affirmation—threw Shadow off. He replayed it in his head.

…

Buddy?

It wasn’t unusual for Sonic to call anyone that way.

Sonic tilted his head, waiting for Shadow’s answer. But when he saw Shadow lost in thought again, he sighed with exaggerated weariness.

“Yeah, yeah, I know ya care about me, Shadow. No need to overthink saying it.” Shadow felt a pang in his chest at the words. “Y’know what? Since it’s Valentine’s Day, I promise I won’t bug you with my genius jokes for the rest of the night.” He patted Shadow’s shoulder confidently.

Shadow dissociated, staring into nothing. He didn’t know how to protest or show his discomfort.

“What do you think, Hot Topic?”

No. He didn’t like it.

He didn’t want it.

Something inside him recoiled at the thought. 

Imagining Sonic acting differently—less playful, less ready to fight, less free to run alongside him—made him feel physically ill.

Before Sonic could suggest something else with a sarcastic tone, or before Shadow could even disagree with what had been said, a call rang out above them.

“Okay, everyone please take your seats near the stage!”

The call broke their closeness. Sonic’s ears shot up, his grin flashing white teeth.

“Hear that? Let’s go, Shads!”

Without waiting for confirmation, Sonic dragged him energetically toward the crowd, pulling them to the center of the hall.

Shadow found himself surrounded by elegantly decorated tables before realizing Sonic had vanished from sight.

“Damn it…” He rubbed his temple, growling under his breath. With every movement heavy with discouragement, he sat at a random table, sighing.

“Hmm, what were you two whispering about back there, you and Blue?”

Shadow flinched at Rouge’s sudden presence beside him, her brow arched mischievously, chin resting on her hand. He shot her a sharp look, shifting irritably in his seat.

“Mind your own business, bat,” he muttered, turning away, unconsciously mirroring her pose. Rouge smirked, crossing her legs under the table.

“Don’t tell me you’ve already given up.” Shadow stayed silent, as she expected. Leaning back, wings lifting slightly, she added, “I see. But I still think it’s not too late.”

Her sly gaze shifted toward Sonic, who was chatting with Silver, his shoe tapping anxiously against the floor.

“Y’know? I used to think Sonic was aroace or something. Then I realized he’s just as bad at feelings as you.”

“Didn’t know that…” Shadow muttered sarcastically.

Rouge laughed, wings fluttering. Shadow rolled his eyes.

Moments later, clapping drew everyone’s attention, cutting Rouge’s laughter short.

“Good evening and happy Valentine’s Day to all! Thank you for joining this exchange we worked so hard to bring you,” Jewel announced from the stage.

“Alright everyone, gifts in hand!” Amy added, spreading her enthusiasm across the room.

Shadow immediately searched for Sonic. Their eyes met, and the plan came alive in both their minds.

Three simple phases:

One: Secure Amy.

Two: Sonic as the grand finale, dramatic and emotional.

Three: A successful romantic confession—applause and congratulations everywhere.

As the final touch, the lights would go out, and in the confusion, Sonic would appear holding the bouquet of roses—courtesy of Shadow’s Chaos Control.

Quick and simple.

Nothing could go wrong.

“Alright, next up is…” Jewel drew out the suspense for a few seconds. “Knuckles!”

Applause rose as the echidna stood with a decisive look. In his hands was a medium‑sized box, clumsily wrapped in red ribbon. Knuckles walked firmly up the side stairs to the stage. When he stopped at the center, the applause faded. Jewel handed him the microphone, which Knuckles held awkwardly in his gloved hands.

Each participant had to dedicate a few affectionate words to their “Valentine” before revealing the person.

He cleared his throat, about to speak, but the sharp squeal of the speakers came first. The audience winced, some covering their ears. Knuckles tapped the mic with his heavy gloves, the gift slipping slightly under his arm.

“Testing, testing…” He cleared his throat again. His nerves betrayed him, stripping away the confidence he had moments ago. “Uh… This gift goes to a brave ally who, though I don’t know him well, earns my respect for his loyalty and effort in battle.”

Shadow rolled his eyes, crossing arms and legs.

“When I first saw him—”

“Get to the point, Knucklehead!” Sonic shouted, provoking laughter across the room.

“You—!”

Rouge chuckled softly, touched to see the red echidna up there. Amy shook her head repeatedly, shooting Sonic a reproachful look. Jewel folded her hands in her lap, smiling shyly.

Knuckles sighed. “This is for Silver.”

A wave of applause followed instantly. The echidna extended the gift forward. Silver’s ears perked up in surprise, his eyes reflecting it too. Finally, he smiled broadly and hurried to receive it.

“Wow! Thank you so much, Knuckles. It’s an honor,” he said with a small bow, carefully touching the wrapping that barely hid the brown box beneath.

Knuckles nodded proudly, chin lifted with self‑satisfaction. “Not right to tell you the contents now, but…” He leaned closer, covering his muzzle to whisper, “I found out you’re a loyal fan of a certain hobby that involves plants.”

Silver’s face lit up, thanking him several times with growing enthusiasm.

The exchange flowed on normally.

After Knuckles, the next was Tails, who coincidentally had a gift for the echidna. From there, minutes stretched into hours, filled with laughter and surprises. Rouge’s gift went to Blaze; the feline was delighted with a set of jewels impossible to find in her dimension. Omega and Charmy made for a strangely tense pair; the poor bee trembled as he handed his gift to the hostile, intimidating robot. Friendlier duos followed, like Belle and Cream, who quickly warmed to each other’s vibe.

And of course, there were the romantic moments in the air. A clear example was Tangle and Whisper; the room found it adorable how Whisper hid her feverish blush behind her ears, as hot as her cheeks.

Until, finally, there were only five participants left. In theory.

There could very well be four if Sonic doesn't stick to the plan. Three, if neither Sonic nor Shadow can bring themselves to get up from that chair.

In any case, there would only be five if Shadow doesn't chicken out.

“Let’s see, now stepping forward… Amy Rose!”

The crowd cheered, encouraging the pink hedgehog to climb the stage. Amy smiled with a touch of shyness, smoothing her dress as she stood.

She grabbed the microphone. An excited chuckle escaped her as she looked out at all her friends and allies gathered in one place. She cleared her throat. Silence reigned in the room.

“Before I begin, I want to thank you all from the bottom of my heart for being here tonight. You don’t know how much I appreciate it.” She smiled, one hand resting on her chest, her gaze sweeping across the attentive faces. “My gift is for someone very special, and I truly hope they like it.”

Rouge raised a brow. For a moment she thought Amy meant Sonic, but that was impossible, knowing…

The bat glanced at Shadow. At first glance, he seemed to be watching Amy like everyone else, but Rouge noticed his crimson eyes lost in an invisible point.

“When I first met him, I was sure he didn’t like me much… Or, well, I assumed we wouldn’t get along. But when I discovered he was much more than I imagined, I wanted to know more about that side of him,” she continued, lowering her gaze to the gift with nostalgia.

Rouge wasn’t the only curious one: Sonic frowned slightly, his leg bouncing frantically against the floor.

He hadn’t bothered to check Amy’s “Valentine,” thinking there was nothing to worry about.

Now he was uneasy as she went on.

“Over time I had the chance to share unforgettable memories and experiences. He’s truly attentive, honest, and even if he’s a bit too serious sometimes… I don’t regret spending time with him. And I hope we can continue that way.”

Without anyone noticing, Shadow snapped out of his trance, suddenly tense.

His lips parted.

His brow furrowed.

No… it couldn’t be.

“W‑Well…” she sighed. “Without further delay, Shadow, this is for you.”

The applause and cheers erupted almost immediately. They urged him to come up on stage. The noise faded into the background for Shadow. It had completely thrown him off balance; he kept his eyes fixed on Amy, unable to make sense of what was happening.

“Me?” he asked, as if he were the only one unaware this was a gift exchange.

Amy laughed nervously.

“Yes, you.”

“Come on! Don’t be shy, Shadow!”

“Don’t leave her hanging!”

Social pressure pushed him forward. He rose stiffly, barely knowing how he managed three steps from the table. The sound of his feet on the wooden stairs made him painfully aware of all the eyes piercing him.

Face to face with Amy, he hesitated. He raised his hands slightly to accept the gift. Amy smiled sideways at his hesitation, helping him by gently placing the white heart‑shaped box, tied with a neat blue bow, onto his gloved palms.

Shadow instantly recognized the lavender scent—his favorite, even above the addictive aroma of morning coffee.

He was speechless. The crowd’s voices blurred into background noise. Instinctively, he swallowed, glancing at the others—and collided with Sonic’s gaze. His blue ears drooped slightly.

Sonic looked just as shocked, but his posture was different. Shadow noticed the tension in his rival’s body, seated rigidly. His eyes were wide, filled with anguish, staring directly at Shadow, as if trying to communicate telepathically.

It unsettled him deeply.

“Shadow? Are you alright?” Amy had already stepped closer, holding his hand in support.

“W‑What?” He looked at her hand touching his, then raised his gaze to her worried face. “Yeah, I’m fine…” he rushed to say, stepping back abruptly, his discomfort obvious.

Amy realized too late, pulling her hand back quickly, accidentally taking the gift with her. “Sorry! I… I know you don’t like too much closeness, I didn’t mean—”

“It’s fine, Amy. Really,” he insisted, silencing her stammers. “It’s just… I have no words. Everything you said… Thank you.”

Shadow whispered it, reaching out to take the gift still in Amy’s hands, their fingers brushing again.

She spoke about him as if he were someone worth understanding. 

The crowd made playful noises, imitating sirens. Applause grew louder at the simple gesture.

Amy blushed to her ears, trying to smile without showing how moved she was. She looked at Shadow with a singular sparkle in her green eyes.

“No need to thank me. Just giving it to you means everything, Shads.”

The nickname jolted his heart.

His breath caught.

He squeezed the box lightly. He couldn’t escape those green eyes, shining as they watched him.

“…Can I hug you?”

Shadow opened his mouth but couldn’t speak, frozen for several seconds.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Amy clarified softly, looking away.

Shadow exhaled slowly through his nose.

He closed his eyes.

He didn’t know when he allowed Amy’s arms to wrap around him.

Her head rested on his shoulder, ears lowered. Shadow struggled to breathe with the sweet scent of her quills—fruity, he guessed. But her embrace made him forget the crowd.

“Thank you,” Amy whispered against his shoulder. Like Shadow, she kept her eyes closed, savoring the moment.

For a while, they were alone in a bubble, indifferent to the world.

Shadow’s hand rose slowly along her back, resting there. He leaned his head against her crown, inhaling deeply, exhaling unevenly.

Without realizing, he clung to the warmth he had longed for, pressing Amy against his chest.

Eyes closed, the warmth felt painfully familiar.

Shadow let himself pretend.

Just for a moment…

That is from his special one.

( . . . )

The effusiveness of the atmosphere had waned with the passing hours. The exchange was over. People went to find something to drink, soothing their throats after so much cheering. A long table offered a wide variety of food, from light desserts to dishes worthy of luxury restaurants. The hungry members of the Restoration devoured much of it quickly.

Of course, what caught most eyes was the alcohol.

There was no reason to worry about that. It was around 11 p.m., time for Charmy, Cream, and Tails to say their goodbyes.

Tails protested dramatically when Amy suggested heading home, resisting at first with the repressed desire to feel part of something more mature. He claimed he was old enough to stay late—thirteen powerful years. Obviously, he ended up leaving minutes before midnight.

Rouge got tipsy after two glasses. She wouldn’t leave the table with the alcohol. Her raised voice began to annoy some, so Omega tried to intervene, dragging her around different spots. But she was known for her skill at slipping away. By the fourth time, the robot gave up, leaving her at random. A grave mistake, since it was Knuckles’ exclusive spot to stay unnoticed.

No one figured out where either of them went.

Outside, the music was muffled by the building’s walls. The freezing blizzard hadn’t let up since that morning. It was the kind of weather that made you not want to set foot outside, although for Shadow, it just made him miss the comfort of the indoor heating a little. Fortunately, snowfall isn’t that common this month, a factor that made it easier to hold the gathering celebrating love and friendship in all their forms.

Shadow sat on the threshold steps, one leg drawn up, forearm resting on his knee.

He could have left long ago, but for some reason he remained.

The breeze tousled his quills gently. He inhaled the air with a calm he almost enjoyed. It was expected of him to slip away from social groups whenever he had the chance.

His ear twitched back at the sound of approaching steps, stopping beside him.

“How’s it going?” Amy sat down on the step above, hugging her knees.

Shadow didn’t answer immediately. He kept his gaze forward, fiddling absently with the blue ribbon between his fingers. He hummed low; the city lights looked smaller from here.

He turned slightly toward Amy. She waited with a smile on her muzzle.

The striped hedgehog sighed heavily, eyes dropping to his lap. He turned the heart‑shaped gift in his hands, speaking with a weary tone.

“I’ll be leaving soon.”

Amy nodded slowly, tension in her posture as she looked off in another direction. “At least you’re leaving with a gift.” She chuckled softly, shrugging, rubbing her arms against the unexpected cold—the wool coat she wore hadn’t been chosen with that in mind. “Looks like my Valentine vanished without warning.”

Shadow raised a brow at her.

“Your…?” He stopped short.

Her Valentine, of course…

Sonic was nowhere to be found, and Shadow realized minutes after the main event ended. He had tried hard not to show he was desperately searching every corner. In fact, the reason he stepped outside was that very search.

He didn’t understand what had happened. Confirming Sonic had left the building filled him with disproportionate irritation for a moment. In the end, the first to abandon everything was him. How dare he? After Shadow had supported him to the end? After enduring seeing him hopelessly smitten with someone else? After reaching the point of…?

Shadow exhaled deliberately, as if expelling more than anger.

The gift in his hands no longer felt light.

Amy looked at him for a moment, her serene expression fading slightly.

“It’s not a big deal. I guess that’s how it goes sometimes. I prepared myself for the possibility that some wouldn’t have the courage to participate, and I understand. I was nervous myself,” Amy murmured, eyes wandering to the tiny snowflakes descending as if reluctant to touch the ground. “The moon’s beautiful tonight, isn’t it?”

Shadow shifted his gaze to the dark sky. His left ear twitched as his crimson eyes reflected the starlight.

“It is…”

Since they were a bit far from the city, they could better appreciate the light above without being choked by the unhealthy smog. Shadow recalled the moment just two days ago when he was surrounded by all those flowers, gazing up at the starry night sky. He did that all the time: staring up at the sky with a lost look in his eyes. The sky was one of his favorite things. Stopping to watch how the clouds seemed to have a life of their own up there, so out of reach, or how the wind’s freedom carried leaves and flowers along with it, or the beautiful shade of blue that stood out only in the mornings—these things tended to distract him during his missions.

One thing he knew for certain is that he loved one color above all.

Blue.

Shadow clicked his tongue, turning his head away from Amy.

He hated how blue never left his mind.

Right now, he wishes Sonic were here just so he could punch him in his awful face.

Even as he fell apart from his absence.

“Right! What about you? Did you give your gift?”

Shadow froze.

Until that moment, he had forgotten the box hidden in his quills.

His hand wavered at first, but he pulled it back, taking out the black box wrapped in red ribbon. He set Amy's aside. His eyes narrowed as he stared at it once he had it in both hands. It was clear to Amy that the answer was a resounding no.

The heavy silence emerged naturally in a strange environment.

Shadow itched to stand and run away. Or teleport—anything to escape another suffocating silence.

Amy exhaled softly through her nose, hands folded in her lap, muzzle tilted to the sky. She closed her eyes briefly, as if meditating. Shadow shifted slightly, his intent to end the conversation growing more obvious.

Suddenly, Amy broke the silence, her voice light.

“I think sometimes… the most important gifts aren’t the ones you prepare for an occasion, but the ones you’ve kept too long.”

Shadow frowned involuntarily. When he looked at her, her green eyes examined him calmly, as if they knew more about him than he did himself.

“What do you mean?” he muttered.

Amy exhaled with a soft smile.

“This celebration, this party… is my gift. When I stood on that stage and saw everyone, I…” A short, emotional giggle escaped her. “I never imagined so many would count on me when I shared my idea.”

Shadow swallowed hard, watching her eyes glisten. The sensation it sent to his chest was indescribable. He felt unbearable pressure at the thought of tears falling.

The light voice never ceased to sound intimate, the careful intonation of each word seeking to encourage a side of him that hurt the more it was hidden—as if for Shadow, ignoring it were an Olympic sport in which he has won countless gold medals to date.

 “Sorry, I’m too sentimental.” She sobbed softly, wiping away the few tears that slipped, her gentle smile never fading.

Shadow lowered his head, his irises trembling slightly. He lifted the gift a few centimeters, reformulating Amy’s words in his mind.

That’s why he didn’t notice the warmth beside him vanish. When the moonlight no longer lit his face, his ears reacted first to the shadow stretching over him.

Amy was standing when he raised his head, looking at him with complicity and a soft smile.

“Come on, don’t just sit there,” she said firmly, eyes on the gift clutched in his hands. “If you still have to give it, don’t keep it. Tomorrow might be too late.”

Shadow’s eyes widened as Amy extended her hand, inviting him to act. His mouth opened, undecided, tightening his grip on the gift he hadn’t given.

Air barely reached his lungs; his heart raced wildly.

Did she know something? How?

She sounded too convinced, almost casual. The calm in her voice told him this wasn’t just advice about how to give a gift.

Shadow stayed silent, perplexed. Assuming it was another act of Amy’s empathy.

Tomorrow might be too late.

But why did she want to help him?

Was it really just empathy?

If Amy knew who that gift was truly for, she wouldn’t act the same way. Would she?

Shadow paid closer attention to the hand before him.

Despite everything, he remained married to the idea that Amy and Sonic were the perfect pair.

He sighed, glancing briefly at the floor before returning to the hand offering help.

For the last time, he tightened his grip on the feelings made tangible.

He reached for the gift Amy had given him, shifting it to the same hand that held his own, and in that way accepted her hand. She pulled him up from the step, lifting his weight like a feather. Face to face, Amy offered a gentle smile. Shadow nodded, his eyes reflecting both anxiety and a budding resolve.

He placed the heart‑shaped box in her hand. 

“I need this to be in good hands until I return,” he asked, tucking his red‑ribboned gift into his striped quills.

Amy accepted without doubt, hugging the object as Shadow brushed past her, beginning to walk away from the building. But he stopped after only a few steps.

He turned his head, thoughtful, watching Amy under the header, her right hand clutching the box, her left arm wrapped around herself above the wool coat.

He had never spoken of his feelings. Yet he wondered if she had seen straight through him.

That would just mean that his unease all this time was an open book...

Shadow sighed, a low growl escaping. Now, with a spark of decision in his gaze, the silence grew heavy with new weight—the moment to act.

In a blink, the ebony hedgehog was gone. The last thing Amy saw was the incandescent streak of his speed. She lifted her hand, the white heart greeting her with its intact bow. Amy drew a sharp breath, pressing her lips together before clutching the gift to her chest, melancholy in the way her fingers clung to its rounded edges. She raised her eyes toward the point where Shadow had vanished, smiling softly.

“You two are quite a piece of work…”

꒰💌꒱

Sonic’s whereabouts always ended as an enigma to the others. He was not someone who stopped; he was constant motion, running here and there, adventuring without fear of what awaited, rarely mindful of consequences. Sonic was like that, and not many recognized it.

Anyone close to him would insist there was no need to worry about Sonic’s absence. They would say he’d be back before you noticed, off chasing another memorable experience to distract him for the week.

He was the purest example of a free spirit, rivaled only by the wind—though some said they were the same thing.

And, well… their relationship was an interesting one, not to say complicated.

They don’t hate each other, but they still see each other as rivals who could compete at any moment and, at the same time, get along just fine in the same space. Well, at least until they clash again.

Over time, that rivalry turned into a friendly one without them even realizing it. Or at least they didn’t say so out loud.

Shadow had learned the patterns of that blue blur.

He knew his routine entirely, however obsessive it sounded.

Where he ran at dawn.

Which hill he napped on.

Which chili dog stand he always claimed wasn't his favorite.

When he wanted silence.

When he wanted a fight.

When he wanted company without admitting it.

Shadow was not only in love—he was obsessed with his rival.

And the height of that obsession was that it hadn’t begun with confusing feelings but long before, when he had dismissed Sonic as “just another fool among heroes.”

That adrenaline, pulling him like metal to a magnet, was his vital essence.

His limbs burned with the demand in his legs to go faster. From above, the orange streak zigzagged endlessly through the vegetation. Leaves reacted seconds after he passed, birds startled from their nests. The thin snow scattered across the forest floor melted in a path where Shadow’s Air Shoes had scorched the ground.

The trees thinned, opening into a horizon of empty plains under the night. The wind danced through grasses swaying in perfect rhythm. Shadow slowed as he stepped onto the vast flatland, the crackle of grass marking his steps.

In the center of the plain stands a magnificent tree surrounded by various kinds of flowers—one that catches your eye the moment you enter: a lush, sturdy oak.

The light traced the contours of the wood and the nearly motionless green leaves. The atmosphere, steeped in tranquility, was oblivious to the tension in the striped hedgehog’s body. He approached the immense tree, peering through the leaves, which concealed most of the branches.

Pausing beneath the tree, Shadow raised his head, squinting up into the canopy.

“Sonic, come down. We need to talk.”

Silence answered. He kept looking inside, where he managed to make out the swaying of a red shoe on top of the tree’s branch. The blue legs were crossed and peeking out a little. Further inside, silhouetted by shadows, Sonic was lying against the trunk, using his arms as a pillow.

Shadow clicked his tongue at being completely ignored, imagining how Sonic was keeping his eyes closed on purpose. As if indirectly telling him not to interrupt his damn nap.

“I know you hear me, hedgehog!” Shadow barked, jaw tight.

A muffled laugh broke the silence.

In a practiced leap, Sonic dropped down, leaves scattering into his quills.

Shadow sighed, shoulders loosening. “Finally. Sonic—” He stepped forward, but Sonic cut him off.

“Shaadoow! Missed me, huh?” Sonic stretched his arms wide, as if for a hug. Shadow faltered, ready to question, but Sonic interrupted again. “Looks like you had fun without me.”

Shadow frowned, stepping back reflexively as Sonic walked toward him with an unusual tone. “What? Look, I—”

“Don’t worry about me if you’re here just because I left. Let’s say…” He rolled his eyes, chuckling uneasily, shrugging. “I changed my mind.”

Sonic stopped inches away, his smile crooked.

Shadow’s eyes widened, shaking his head.

“What are you talking about? You’re kidding me? Everything was going according to plan!”

“Well, something must’ve gone wrong, don’t you think?” Sonic shot back defensively, calmer now, sarcasm lacing his words as he mirrored Shadow’s head tilt.

“Then tell me what went wrong!” Shadow’s voice cracked, desperation slipping through. “You didn’t tell me you’d leave. I waited like an idiot!”

“Haha! Really? You stood there stiff with the flowers the whole time, or what?” Sonic rested his hands on his hips, tilting his head incredulously.

Shadow clenched his hands into fists, locking intense eye contact with those emerald eyes. It didn’t help much, since they, too, hid what Sonic was avoiding saying.

“For Chaos’s sake, just tell me what happened, Sonic.”

There was a long silence.

Shadow wants answers, but he fears what he might hear.

Sonic sighed.

He straightened up. His expression changed drastically, sending alarm bells ringing in Shadow’s mind.

“I already told you. I guess you were right when you said I’m a coward,” he said point-blank. His tone was expressionless, dry, and evasive. It was obvious that Sonic didn’t want to go into details.

Shadow noticed how his rival’s body language reflected a closed-off attitude: stiff shoulders, an evasive gaze.

Still, he took a step closer, pressing the issue and speaking with contained frustration.

“You liar… How am I supposed to understand if you don’t tell me? How am I supposed to fix this?”

The blue hedgehog frowned slightly, looking at him with irony. He smiled sidelong.

“You were the one who insisted this was a great idea in the first place, remember?”

Shadow frowned back, his eyes wide open.

“There’s nothing to fix.”

Shadow looked bewildered as Sonic simply turned around and started walking away.

 “Valentine’s is over. Go on, get drunk, if you can… Forget you ever agreed to help me with my pathetic feelings. Or head to your fancy apartment downtown to tell Rouge the embarrassment you went through, something like that. You get me.” He rested one arm behind his neck, waving lazily with the other as he spoke, back turned to Shadow.

Shadow froze, analyzing the words spilling from Sonic’s mouth. It was happening again: he doing nothing while watching him leave.

Letting him silence the questions that burned inside.

No.

He was tired of this.

Tired of Sonic always having the final word.

Sonic stopped when he felt a weight on his shoulder.

He held his breath, bracing for the inevitable shouting.

“What—?” He got what he least expected: heat spread across his cheek, burning. His head snapped violently as Shadow’s fist landed full force. Without pause, Shadow yanked him forward, face to face with his ragged breath.

“Stop running away! Grow up—dare to say it to my face,” he muttered, clutching the peach-colored fur. Shadow fixed his defiant gaze on the emerald eyes, watching as those irises shrank back into their sockets.

Sonic snapped out of it, frowning as the pain from the bruise on his cheek began to get on his nerves. He yanked himself free from the grip and, in a swift spin, shoved Shadow with the force of his legs, causing Shadow to drag his feet across the ground to keep from being sent flying backward.

Sonic was the first to move: launching himself like a blue projectile toward his rival. Shadow reacted with precision, counterattacking with a downward kick that made the ground where they stood tremble.

Sonic leaped backward, planting his fingertips on the ground.

“Wow, you really are stubborn!” He wiped his cheek with the back of his hand, flashing a sly smile. “I thought that was my thing.”

Shadow wasn’t in the mood for his games.

He propelled himself toward his opponent, reaching back with his arm to land another punch. Sonic dodged it easily, but he barely managed to avoid the next kick.

Both exchanged violent punches, cushioning the blows with their forearms when necessary and curling into a ball to execute their signature spin dash. The brutal, repeated collision of their spikes sent them flying through the air for a few seconds, but it didn’t take long for them to return and clash head-on once more.

The fight became a frenzy: kicks, spins, blocks, each strike harsher than the last, each hit fueled by bottled rage.

“Is it me, or are you slower than before, Shads?” Sonic caught Shadow mid‑charge, their hands locked in a test of strength. Shadow growled at the force Sonic demanded—and at the jab.

“Damn it, shut up!” He broke free with a downward motion, aiming another punch at Sonic’s mocking face. Sonic ducked, driving his fist into Shadow’s abdomen, hurling him back several meters.

Shadow staggered, breath ragged, but Sonic pounced, tackling them both into the grass. He didn’t hesitate, raining blows on Shadow’s face, each strike dripping with resentment. Blood spilled from Shadow’s nose by the fourth hit. That was enough—he let Chaos Energy surge through his veins.

Sonic knew he was in trouble when the warmth beneath him vanished. Before he could react, Shadow appeared behind him, spinning into a devastating kick to the ribs.

The impact was brutal. Sonic rolled aside, rising quickly, panting—but smiling.

Shadow’s chest heaved, his gaze darkened on the cobalt hedgehog. 

“Tell me the truth already!” he roared, fists burning, quills bristling, ready for the next move.

“Chaos, why do you even care?!” Sonic leapt acrobatically, curling into a spin dash, slamming forward at full speed. Shadow blocked with his forearms, retreating step by step.

“Because I don’t believe you’d throw away all your hard work just because you were nervous!” he managed to say with difficulty; the friction was starting to burn. “That’s not you!”

Shadow vanished in a flash of Chaos Control. Sonic’s spin dash slammed into the ground, releasing a shockwave that lifted leaves and dust. When the haze cleared, Shadow saw Sonic standing in the crater, head bowed, eyes narrowed at the accusation.

The silence that followed unsettled Shadow deeply.

Sonic examined his gloved palm, as if searching for an excuse there. Shadow hesitated—attack again, or wait? 

He swallowed hard, risking another comment.

But Sonic’s eyes met his.

"Fine."

Sonic sighed.

"You want answers?"

Another smile spread across his face.

It didn't reach his eyes.

"Beat me in a race."

Shadow blinked twice, words caught in his throat. He raised a brow, incredulous, watching Sonic step back casually, arms still behind his quills.

“Huh? N‑no! Wai—” Shadow ate Sonic’s dust as the blue streak bolted away, leaving only a fading trail.

Shadow growled, ears folding back. 

“Can’t he stay still for one damn minute?” he muttered, igniting his Air Shoes in a flash.

He chased Sonic out of the plains. Sonic’s speed carried him across ridges effortlessly, his blue trail weaving through forests. Behind him, an orange streak followed, nearly as fast. Shadow had no trouble closing the gap.

The whistle of wind, the air slicing against his body, brought back a cherished memory—a melancholy feeling. He hadn’t realized how much he missed competing like this until now, feet gliding over the earth with total easyness, as if it were his natural habitat.

The cold air ruffling his quills, his heart rate, and the need to speed up faster and faster made him break into an involuntary smile, allowing himself the luxury of forgetting his problems for a moment.

The invisible weight no longer weighed on his back.

Finally, after several stressful weeks, his limbs felt lighter.

The chaotic hedgehogs continued their chase through the city. Shadow lost track of when they entered the brightly lit streets, where people seemed to never sleep due to the constant activity.

Shadow reacted just in time, dodging vehicles that seemed to be heading straight for him. This was mainly because the hedgehog was running against traffic. He clicked his tongue, seeing that Sonic still had the lead, so he cheated a little, teleporting in a series of flashes until he exited the highway.

He ran for six minutes; Sonic didn’t stop running in circles. Shadow was sure Sonic was doing it on purpose, and that really annoyed him. It drives him crazy when people play games with him, especially when Sonic decides to start this race with the sole purpose of throwing him off.

Sometimes Sonic reacts childishly, no matter the place or the moment. The fact that running is his way of escaping would lead Shadow to believe that the hedgehog can’t handle any kind of serious problem—if it weren’t for all the times he’s proven otherwise.

The landscape had changed. There were no longer any buildings reaching for the sky or noise pollution vibrating in his ears. Shadow found himself in a natural setting that made him stop in his tracks.

He was breathing heavily, drawing in air through his mouth. For a moment, his crimson eyes admired the sunrise bringing light to the lavender meadow.

He looked in both directions, puzzled that he couldn’t find Sonic. He furrowed his brow when he spotted small animals hiding in the tall grass.

That’s strange—he was right in front of me…, he thought.

He felt something tickle his fur.

Wait a second…

He looked down at his feet, where a sea of lavender seemed poised to swallow him whole.

His eyes widened in surprise when he recognized the place.

The grass rustled behind him. A warm breath brushed against Shadow’s ear.

“Boo!”

Shadow jumped in place, spinning around at the sensation that sent a shiver down his spine. Nothing.

Then cackle behind him—Sonic’s mocking laugh.

Shadow turned sharply, teeth clenched, while Sonic finished laughing, wiping a tear from his eye.

“You should’ve seen your face! Haha!” He clutched his stomach, chuckling, eyes squinting with mischief.

Shadow rolled his eyes, muttering something diffuse, perhaps an insult.

His steps pressed into the earth as he approached Sonic, scattering small animals into flight.

“Stop your nonsense!” He seized Sonic’s arm, shaking him to bring him to reason. “I caught you, so speak!”

Sonic stumbled back, tripping over his own feet. “Whoa, whoa! Not so fast! You didn’t catch me at all.” Shadow raised a brow, whispering a doubtful What do you mean? “I won. I got here first, don’t you see?” Sonic spread his arms wide, pointing to the field around them. Shadow looked, confirming once more where they stood, as if it weren’t enough for Sonic that he simply recognized the famous flowers beneath their feet.

He had brought them back to where it all began.

Shadow shook his head, clearing those thoughts from his mind. He tried to step closer again, but Sonic appeared in front of him even faster, inadvertently shoving him.

“But y’know what? I’ll tell you anyway, to make up for the back pain you got from getting here.” Shadow was sent flying a few meters by the shove, landing on his knees, and looked at Sonic in bewilderment as he stepped toward him. “Do you wanna know why I didn’t want you to get involved in the first place? 

Shadow stood up as best he could, stepping back with his jaw clenched. The Sonic in front of him—usually lighthearted and playful—made no attempt to hide the resentment he’d been harboring.

“Do you want to know why I knew this wasn’t going to work?”

“What are you talking about…?” Shadow’s brow furrowed, ready to fight again.

Sonic sighed amid a choked laugh, running his hand across his face. He looked up at the sky with wide eyes, as if pleading with the gods for help.

He turned his gaze back to the other hedgehog. His face contorted into a dejected expression.

“All this time, I knew Amy felt something for you, Shadow.”

Shadow abandoned his plans to fight back, his eyes widening in shock when he heard that.

His entire body seemed to freeze. His limbs, his brain activity, his heart.

He was left in a daze, and as a result, Sonic was getting closer and closer.

“I could see it in every gesture, in every glance. And I… I wasn’t even sure I wanted to go to the party when you suggested it because I knew this was bound to happen sooner or later.” Sonic stopped in his tracks, not standing face-to-face with Shadow, but close enough that Shadow couldn’t look away. Sonic’s voice broke into a whisper as he said, “That she was going to be there, with you. And… and that she’d decide to confess… her feelings to you.”

Shadow stood frozen, watching as Sonic struggled to appear oblivious.

“I-I… didn’t know.”

Sonic exhaled softly with a faint smile.

“I thought so… Still, I let my stupid insecurity get the better of me,” he muttered, giving himself a disapproving look. “And… I admit I only stayed with you that day to hear you say that wasn’t true, that nothing would ever happen between you and Amy… And to feel better about myself.”

Shadow feels the ground give way beneath his feet. He’s still reeling from the previous confession rather than the one just revealed.

How long has Amy had feelings for him?

How could he have been so blind?

Her face lit up during the exchange... it was stupid to think that it was just the emotion of the moment.

When she asked him for a hug, when she went to find him, when she reached out her hand...

She already knew that he wouldn't reciprocate her feelings, and yet she did it anyway.

She was there for Shadow when no one else could be.

“When Amy gave you that gift… I couldn’t bear what it meant. I didn’t want to stay and watch what I had feared all along, so I… ran.”

Shadow now felt guilt heavier than stone.

Shadow feels guilty for leaving the hedgehog at the party.

How he regrets having impulsively decided to help Sonic.

If he hadn't given in to the fear of losing their closeness, maybe today would be just another day like any other. If he had only resigned himself to accepting that Sonic would never see him in a different light, maybe now he would be taking care of a drunk Rouge or hiding under the covers of his bed, watching the latest episode of that telenovela that was so bad it was actually good.

But all he could do was listen, feeling that uncomfortable unease in his chest, regretting it over and over again, and imagining alternative scenarios.

Sonic lowered his head, sighing with sorrow.

“I’m so sorry, Shads. For the way I acted, for wasting your time when you truly wanted to help me. I…” The lump in his throat grew as he spoke, making it hard for him to get the words out.

He took a deep breath, parting his lips. However, he didn’t get a chance to speak when something new entered his field of vision.

Shadow, despite staring intently at Sonic, wasn’t paying attention to anything. His gaze seemed clouded, like when you stand still staring at something for too long. He couldn’t find the words for this moment—what if he made it worse with what he said? Which of the two hedgehogs should he feel more empathy for? Should he give him a hug? Should he tell him he’s an idiot for thinking all this drama would make Amy feel something for him again?

What should he do?

“What’s this?” Sonic asked, his voice slightly hoarse. Shadow reacted strangely to his voice, lowering his trembling eyes.

What he saw brought him abruptly back to reality.

Lying on the floor, slightly damaged, was the gift holding the truth he dared not express.

Shadow’s senses kicked in like the functions of a machine; suddenly, sweat inside his gloves was sliding off his palms, and the pain from the bruises scattered across his ribs and back throbbed and stung like living fire.

Sonic picked up the gift, his movements betraying confusion as he examined it.

It happened in less than a second: Shadow lunged, pulling at the empty end. Sonic flinched at the desperate tug, tightening his grip on the box. “Hey! What—?”

“Give it back,” Shadow cried desperately, his trembling grip failing to snatch it away.

“Wh‑whose gift is this?” Sonic kept pulling, pressing the already battered lid.

“It’s no one’s! Let… Let it go!” Shadow clung to the other end, silently begging Sonic not to pry further.

“It’s not the one Amy gave you. I- Is it for her? Were you going to give it after the party or…or—?”

Shadow snarled, unleashing all his strength in a desperate outburst.

“No!”

The box ended up in his hands, nestled against his palms and the white fur on his chest.

He froze, his heart racing.

How the hell did that get there?

Shadow was struck by a headache just from trying to figure out when the gift might have slipped from his quills.

Sonic looked him up and down, his body language clearly conveying his confusion. Shadow avoided his gaze, guarding that gift as if it were his most precious possession.

“So…?”

The annoying, awkward silence refused to leave Shadow. He swallowed automatically, his dry throat stinging. He was breathing as if the path of air to his lungs were blocked.

No one had told him that the nightmare tormenting him every day would become a reality sooner than he’d imagined.

How he hated to admit Rouge was right, but now he wished he’d listened to her earlier comment.

“Even if you don’t hand them over, at least consider preparing in advance.”

He’d never had any G.U.N. training for this specific moment.

The gift weighs heavily in his hands as if it were his own heart, beating with every second of silence. Shadow feels the air growing thicker, every breath a struggle, and the whole world seems to have come to a standstill in that meadow.

His feelings could no longer find comfort in their self-imposed confinement. It was as if they wanted to burst out of his chest or be vomited from his mouth.

Shadow knew he would lose Sonic if he blurted out the truth. And he knows that if he leaves now, he won’t be able to bear the cruel cost of his silence.

Yet his body was warning him that he could no longer bear the weight, that if he held on for even one measly second longer, everything would collapse without warning.

Every suppressed gesture, every averted gaze, every missed opportunity now piles up in his memory. And now, standing before Sonic, he realizes that fear had led him exactly where he least wanted to be: exposing his love in the most unwanted way.

Driven solely—and only—by the pain in his chest and the fact that there would be no other chance, he slowly held out the gift to Sonic with both hands, encouraging him to take it.

Sonic opens his mouth but says nothing. His eyes reflect surprise, understanding the message without the need for words.

Yet Shadow felt the need to use them.

“It’s for you.”

The crimson eyes met the emerald ones. The former were the ones that looked as if they’d been set in crystal. And just in case Sonic made a move, he hurried to give himself over completely.

“It’s not just for the exchange, or for any holiday—I want you to have it because, for me, giving it to you… giving it to you is special. Because I like you, Sonic. And… I-I don’t want to. But I like you.”

He paused, taking a deep breath.

“I like our rivalry. I like our strange friendship… and I don’t want it to stop there. I want to feel the right to cherish you from afar. I want to make sure we’ll see each other again after our battles. I-I want to treat you without hostility. I want… I want you to be the one waiting for me after a mission. I want to stay up talking with you late into the night when I can’t sleep. I want to hug you. I want to teach you everything I know. I-I want…” He couldn’t continue. The heat on his face surely made him look ridiculous, but it was incredible how he never once broke eye contact.

He waited with his heart in his throat.

The gift in his hands felt heavier than ever.

And the Sonic standing before him didn’t utter a single word.

Every agonizing second without a response squeezed his chest.

And Shadow, his eyes stinging, realized in that instant that Sonic’s silence was the answer he’d always feared.

One where there’s no explicit rejection, where there are no harsh words—just the absence of them. 

And that absence hurt more than being mocked.

Sonic took a step back, then another… and then another. He looked at the object held out toward him with an indecipherable expression, as if it were something he couldn’t possibly understand.

He lowered his gaze, clenching his hands into fists. Shadow was still there, motionless, his hands losing their grip with every centimeter of distance.

Sonic clearly felt the burn of Shadow’s intense gaze on his back as he turned away. He could clearly hear his heart shatter as he walked away without looking back.

Shadow doesn’t follow him.

He lets him go.

The sun emerges fully from its hiding place, rising over the far end of the vast horizon and slowly spreading its light across the meadow. Birds flew from their nests to begin a new day, while the fresh air carried with it a whisper of farewell.

The light added hues to the hundreds of lavender plants, caressing the violet spikes with a soft golden glow, as if to console their fragility.

Shadow’s hands dropped to his sides.

He didn’t move for quite some time, barely noticing the tears sliding down his face. Contrary to what he had initially believed, a heavy drizzle did not suddenly pour down on him as he broke into tears. He did not hear the constant, melodious whimpering of a violin’s strings. He did not fall to his knees. There were no black-and-white credits to give him a tragic ending.

Dawn dispelled the twilight, leaving only the echo of the shadows.

Before, he had believed that resignation would be the only way to endure it.

But now he knew that lies had carried him too far.

Fear had dissolved, replaced by the awareness of a strange relief.

It disappointed him that there was no embrace to console him.

Though he had expected nothing good.

Of course, that did not erase the pain.

But at least his unease no longer consumed his chest.

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꒰💌꒱