Chapter Text
Grocery shopping was always an odd experience for Shadow. Being the Ultimate Life Form meant he didn’t have to eat very much. But here he was, squinting at the onions because Rouge wanted to make pasta for dinner, and he couldn’t tell what a medium- sized onion was. There were ones the size of his fingertips. Were those small, making the white ones in front of him, which are big enough that he had to splay his fingers to fit it in his palm, large? Or was there a mystical, bigger onion that would qualify as large? Or were the small onions just abnormally tiny, and the ones in front of him were regular sized?
Sighing, he grabs three and puts them into the cart. If it’s too much onion, that’s Rouge’s problem. On his way out of the produce section, he passes a basket of golden plums. They smell sweet, tempting him to linger, but it’s not enough to stop for. He doesn’t need them,
Much of the grocery list goes like this. He’s got a better handle on how to gauge the ripeness in the rest of the produce section, and everything else on the list is shelf- stable, where all that matters is that the packaging doesn’t look roughed up.
Finally, he reaches the only aisle that truly has any relevance for him: the coffee aisle. He goes past the flavored beans, which have oily, cloying scents that stick in his nose. He stares at the wall of unflavored coffees, deciding on how dark of a roast he wants this week. Though much of the flavor of the beans is its bitterness, different roasts have a unique level of smokiness. Some have fruity, spicy, or even sometimes chocolaty notes that distinguish them from each other.
It’s interesting, the warmth in his chest as he pickles up a bag and lifts it to his nose. A light fluttering that relaxes his shoulders. Perhaps “odd” is a more apt choice of word. It feels disproportionate how happy his weekly bag of beans makes him. Shadow isn’t going to complain, though. The variety makes his weeks a little less monotonous. There’s also an autonomy to it that he didn’t get on the ARK, even if it’s small.
He chooses a medium roast, inhaling deeply from the vent in the front of the bag, and putting it in the cart. It’s got cinnamony, earthy notes that are a delightful contrast to the moody floral notes of the dark roast from last week.
—
The next morning, Shadow gets to indulge in the beans he bought. The routine he’s created for eating the beans is comforting. His first few years on Mobius were so chaotic and full of upheaval. Now that he’s finally figured out who he is, solidifying his sense of self, it’s become almost a representation of how everything has settled down for good. He’s almost meditative as he eats the beans, appreciating how even the mouthfeel of the beans is different from the last bag.
Eating wasn’t anything like how it was on the ARK. Newfound autonomy aside, the amount of fresh food available is staggering. Rouge would still laugh about it at times, but the first few times he stepped into a grocery store, he felt like he’d wandered into some foreign temple to food. And then the amount of satisfaction the people around him seemed to get was baffling. He’d never seen anyone aboard the ARK have a similar attitude towards anything in that cafeteria. It only served to make him feel somehow more alien the first few times he “shared” meals with people.
He shakes his head, returning his focus to the beans. Sunlight streams through his apartment window, cars and people passing by down below.
Meanwhile, Shadow sits in the rocking chair. Maybe he’d never understand the Mobian fascination with food. With the amount of storage space devoted solely to powders that make his eyes water, and the awful noise of meats being prepared. The obsession is so prevalent that humans and Mobians alike will have entire parties dedicated to food that they’ll invite each other too. Not him, though. His Black Arms DNA makes it so that the Chaos energy in the world can sustain him. Eating the coffee beans is a treat, a reward for existing.
So he eats the beans. And tries to put the way the plums tried to call out to him out of his mind. This is more than he’d ever had before. How could he ask for anything more?