I did this randomly and forgot to post it on FanFiction. Oops.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Shadow the Hedgehog or Sonic the Hedgehog and am not making any sort of money. I own my ideas and awkward brain.
Blank Page
A blank canvas.
That was how Shadow saw himself.
Pure white with absolutely nothing on it.
Not even a speck of red. Or blue. Or any other color.
His heart was once filled with black. With red. With anger and hatred towards the whole entire planet of humans.
A heart full of blind rage at the beautiful planet Maria had loved so much.
But when he fell, he realized he could change.
The chaos energy that saved his seemingly meaningless life. The chaos control that only he could master.
Led to a series of events.
Shadow began to see people for who they are. He found each person to be their own unique painting, with brush strokes that conveyed feeling. With color that revealed something, anything, about that individual.
But he was a blank page.
Shadow would look in the mirror at himself and feel ashamed that he was who was in the mirror. He felt like there was nothing in the reflection. Like he was invisible. Non-existent.
Shadow felt like a blank page. Until he 'met' him.
It wasn't the first time they've seen each other, no. They'd fought many times before, screaming insults at each other and the like but never a decent conversation. Until then.
They talked and talked about their pasts. Shadow learned that Sonic felt free when running and he slowly found that he felt that way too. He learned that Sonic was scared of Amy and had no feelings beyond friendship for her. Even though that was obvious, he felt like he had learned more about the blue hero.
Shadow gave a try at painting Sonic once. Everything was captured almost perfectly. But something felt wrong. They eyes, though they looked well-drawn and detailed, held no emotion. They were plain and well... green. Not like the emeralds Sonic had for eyes.
They were dull.
Shadow destroyed the painting even though Sonic had pleaded him not to. Those dull eyes watched him and scared him. They made him paranoid.
He tried again. Destroyed again. Tried again. Destroyed again. It became an endless cycle.
Soon, Shadow stopped destroying the paintings and instead placed each of them on easels around his room.
Shadow started noticing each of his paintings looked livelier, better, and filled with emotions. The eyes evolved from a dash of green paint to emerald orbs that held meaning and emotion. The sapphire fur looked so real that you thought you could just reach and feel it.
Sonic became the subject of Shadow's art.
"Hey Shads! Why don't you try drawing yourself?"
At the time, Shadow was appalled by the suggestion. But he decided to try.
The black hedgehog sat in front of a snow white canvas and raised his paintbrush, covered in black paint. He made a dash. Then another. Black brush marks covered the canvas. Then came the red. Red paint was splattered over the body like blood. The splatters were shaped into arrow like markings on the black canvas.
When he finished, he found a painting of pure black splattered with blood. But in the middle was a glowing light.
In order for the light to shine so brightly, the darkness must be present. - Francis Bacon
When Sonic found the painting under a cloth in the room full of easels, he asked what it meant.
"It represents me."
Once again, Sonic questioned but Shadow had no answer this time around. The hero nodded and pondered on what the meaning behind it until a few days later, he came to Shadow.
"Didn't you always describe yourself as a blank canvas?" Yes.
"But isn't this something?" Yes.
"That means you've changed. It's not a bad change." Then why is there blood and darkness?
"The painting is saying that even though your world is dark, there's a source of light in it for you."
The idea hit Shadow. Hard. It made him think about himself. Had he changed? Was there something in his world that made him happy? That lit it up?
There was.
Shadow set to the task of painting himself again, this time painting what he actually looked like. He went on 'auto-pilot' and the color blue made it's way on the painting. Then green. Two figure were formed on the canvas, one on the side of light pulling the other out from the darkness.
"Hey, isn't that me?" Yes.
"Does that mean...?" Yes.
You are the light of my world. You bring me happiness wherever I go, whenever I see you.
In other words...
I love you.
A hug. An embrace. A sweet kiss. Compassionate words. Tears of joy.
Nothing could describe that moment between the two. The happiest moment in their lives will suffice though.
So several years later when Shadow set to the task of painting himself again, the painting was filled with emotion, love, happiness, joy, and the two beautiful emeralds that had brought him back from the darkness that he had been hiding in.
The painting was of him and his hero sitting by a pond, in the light of the day. On each of their ring fingers were a golden band.
The emotionless being is no more. Shadow knew he should feel more vulnerable but instead, he felt safer than he ever felt in the arms of the one he loved. He was brought back to life by his hero. His hero that stood in the light.
Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that. - Martin Luther King Jr.
A painting full of life and love.
That's how Shadow saw himself.
He wasn't the pitiful blank canvas he used to be that was begging for some color.
Because he was in love with the most beautiful thing in the whole universe.
To love beauty is to see light. - Victor Hugo
Okay. This story was all feels. I was listening to the night core version of "Don't you worry child" when writing this. It was just to beautiful. Hope you enjoyed! (I included a lot of quotes...)