The next morning, Shadow sat on the bed and endured getting checked over by the town doctor, Ernest. Being poked and prodded and having lights shone in his eyes made him want to punch the muskrat, but he remained calm, letting the doctor work. The sooner it ended, the better. Dahlia leaned against her door frame as she waited.
After far too long, the doctor finally returned his supplies to his bag.
"Looks like you're doing okay, my good man. I'd imagine you're in the clear. Just keep eating, getting your exercise, and drinking plenty of fluids and you'll be back to normal in no time." He collected his things, stood, and headed out.
Dahlia embraced Ernest as he walked by. "Thanks so much for all your help, Ernest."
"Of course," he said, returning the gesture. "You know you and Lily can call whenever you need me."
Dahlia walked Ernest out of the house and Shadow followed so he could grab a cup of water from the kitchen. As soon as Ernest left and the front door shut, Dahlia converged upon him. She gushed about the breakfast menu of In the Neighborhood with grandiose talk about how delicious the restaurant's food tasted — "It's the best restaurant ever, it'll feel like your mouth went on a damn vacation!", and other such exclamations. Pure respite came when Lily left the bathroom and he shut himself inside, away from Dahlia's overly exuberant speech.
Though his morning routine didn't last long. When he finished brushing his teeth and doing general bathroom activities, he knew he'd need to face Dahlia again. Truth be told, her talk of delectable food enticed him and his hungry stomach. He exited the bathroom, somehow both eager and unwilling. Dahlia awaited him by the front door.
"C'mon, Shadow, we gotta hurry before they switch to lunch!"
She snatched his hand when he drew close enough and tugged him out the door. He almost tripped over his feet as they jogged down the porch steps and onto the cobble walkways of her home. Despite it being mid-morning, the strong rays of sun had difficulty penetrating the thick weald and its strong, earthy smell; forest nestled their community. Between the two parallel pathways, luxuriant gardens had been planted, full of wildflowers, lavender, and kempt shrubbery and bushes.
Despite his flowery surroundings, he still deciphered her perfume in the air. Maybe this was due to their unexpected close proximity, the fact that she clamped her hand around his as she fast-walked him to their destination, or possibly because of her brightly beaming face.
This grin of hers greeted many of the island's other inhabitants on the way to In the Neighborhood; a great array of distinct characters. They passed a red squirrel in farmer's overalls, a sheep with vast grey wool, a tan platypus wearing spectator shoes — and those had just been the first three. There were more than he could count when they entered the town square, a large and luxurious area with a mossy fountain in the middle, encircled by cobblestones. Benches placed around it had various people sitting, enjoying the warm morning sun which now beat down upon him as he left the denser forest behind. Whatever season it was, it made the air hot and a bit humid. Perhaps the denizens had gotten used to it and he simply hadn't.
He also hadn't gotten used to Dahlia's hand upon his, fingers now laced as though inaction impelled her to deepen their intimacy. A strong urge to pull away tensed his arm, or maybe the tenseness came from his bizarre desire to do exactly the opposite. Whatever it was, it disconcerted him.
Not that she gave him enough time to think about it, as she jostled his arm and called, "We're almost there, you can see their sign!"
She pointed ahead as they turned left from the fountain, through buildings that lined the way. It took a moment of scanning for him to see which sign she meant. Between Clothes & Surplus and Dear Dairy, In the Neighborhood found itself set-up. Its sign seemed rather… Bohemian. Etched into the natural wood was a dream-catcher sort of pattern, and deeper than that inscribed the name of the restaurant in flowers and vines, from what he could see at this distance away.
She grinned up at him, positively ecstatic from what he assumed was her sharing in something she adored. Her warm hand — no, her regular-old-nothing-special-hand squeezed his tighter.
If he didn't know any better, he'd say that she could read his thoughts as any time he tried to think deeper about her or her affection, she would divert him somehow. This time, she kept true to that method and abruptly jogged toward the restaurant, jerking him down the way with her. In that moment behind her, his nose caught her coconut-scented perfume again. Vanilla?
Not that he cared.
She pulled the door open and tugged him inside, shoes tapping along the black and white tiles of the floor.
"Hey, Fred!" Dahlia approached the worker, an orange tabby cat who stood behind the counter.
"Dahlia, great to see ya! Who's this?" Fred motioned to him with an upturned hand. "That your invalid?"
"Oh, Fred, he's not an invalid at all — he's a real trooper! This is Shadow."
"I'm just playin', Shadow! Good to meetcha. Name's Fred, obviously. Welcome to my little restaurant, In the Neighborhood! I'd shake with ya, but I see that you n' your girlfriend are holdin' hands."
As if he didn't already know that his fingers still laced with Dahlia's. His brain had preoccupied itself with her not long ago, and all of his attention grappled onto Dahlia's giggle and following words.
"Hardly. Only known the guy for less than a day."
She let his hand go, only for it to be then snatched by Fred. Fred grinned at him, fervently shaking his hand in what felt like a vice-grip.
"Well, let's not wait!" Fred exclaimed, "Our food is the best around, Shadow. You'll never taste anythin' like it!"
He led them toward the back wall, past the register and the baked goods display beside it, which shown an assortment of bread loaves, muffins, and strudels. At the back, a blackboard hung on the wall just behind another display case full of desserts like cupcakes, cookies, and brownies. Everything smelled very fresh; appetizing, appealing — he probably could've eaten all of it, given the chance. Though, he read some questionable items from the board.
He asked, "The hell's a veggie sausage?"
"It's grains and beans and stuff rolled into a sausage shape," Dahlia replied.
He crinkled his nose.
She giggled. "Sorry, we're kinda veg-heads here. But the sausages are good! I'll order some for myself so you can try it."
"If you're new to the whole veg-head life," said Fred, "might I recommend the pancakes? Fluffy, soft, n' doused in tree blood."
Tree… Blood…?
Dahlia nudged him with her elbow. "It's maple syrup, Fred's just bein' weird." Then she cupped her hand beside her mouth. "Yo, Junior! You're back there gettin' our pancakes ready, ain'cha?!"
From the corner doorway, where Shadow could only see what looked like a commercial dishwashing station, another (somewhat exasperated) voice sounded. "Yes, Dahlia, I'm gettin' yer flapjacks ready!"
After deciding on the sausages and the pancakes, Dahlia also ordered fried potatoes, cinnamon toast, a large glass of orange juice, and two coffees. Shadow sat with her at one of the red booths near the entrance, wall to one side and aisle to the other. Fred graced the laminated square table with a container of milk and their own pot of coffee.
The coffee had a distinct smell, one that he couldn't accurately describe. He observed her pour a glass of the stuff, then stir in the milk and sugar from already-set packets in a dispenser. She took a long gulp off her steaming mug. When she finished and her eyes caught him, she scrunched her face into a perplexed but affable smile.
"Ya good, buddy?"
He glanced toward the coffee pot, at the deep brown liquid within, and grasped its handle to pour a mug for himself. The smell hit him quite hard, almost pungent in all of its bitterness. He looked into his mostly filled cup. He couldn't even describe the smell so had no idea how it would taste.
"Damn," said Dahlia. "Never seen someone stare so hard atcoffee. Do they not have coffee on Earth?"
"Don't know."
"Ya don't, eh? Well, if ya ask me, today's your lucky day 'cuz coffee's awesome."
After some experimenting with the flavor of his odd drink (that Dahlia once called 'Joe', whoever that was), another orange tabby in a partially floured apron came to their table, tray full of food upon his hand. The tabby spread everything out before them — pancakes and toast in front of Shadow, the rest in front of Dahlia, and the orange juice between them with two straws.
"Gave us your best, didn't ya, Junior?"
Junior put his fists against his hips, glaring playfully at her. "'Course I did. Didn't wanna hear ya bitchin', ya know." He then mocked her in an opulent voice, "Oh no, my coffee isn't at a perfect eighty-two Celsius and my sausages aren't exactly round, how ludicrous."
"Wow, been practicin' my speech patterns again, haven'cha? How's Shadow supposed to know the difference between us? You're gonna confuse the poor guy!"
Junior looked to him. "So you were Dahlia's patient, were ya? Nice to see ya, Shadow. Name's Fred Junior, but everyone just calls me Junior. You can call me Overlord of the Kitchen and Purveyor of Amazing Cuisine if ya'd like."
Must've fancied himself a funny guy.
Dahlia interjected, "You'd be better off straight-talkin' with this one. No sense a' humor."
Junior chuckled, walking away. "Dunno how ya can stand it, Dahlia."
She shrugged and got to eating, so Shadow, driven by his gurgling stomach, did the same. Dahlia interjected every now and again to ask for a bite off his plate or offer some of what she had. The sausages admittedly were delicious, if not still odd in how she'd described them. Some of the vegetables inside of it had been grown by her and Lily, like the bell pepper and thyme. Seemed he couldn't control his fierce eating patterns as even today he shoveled bite after bite into his mouth, thankful that he'd doused everything in maple syrup to make things go down easier.
A particularly rough time trying to swallow the potatoes compelled him to take the orange juice and slurp it through his straw. That is, until Dahlia leaned across the table and took the other straw into her mouth. He ceased, watching as she drank like nothing changed, like she wasn't so close. Her jade eyes gleamed, their noses could've touched— He pulled away and let her take the cup from him.
The impossibility of describing what he thought or how he felt drove him crazy, as it seemed his brain couldn't figure it out. How could he have disliked and liked her actions at the same time? And why was it so irritating yet so endearing that she seemed not to care? Her intimacy, unlike his own coldness and distance, somehow managed to be both wanted and unwanted.
Just then, bringing him back to the present, Dahlia's motions stopped. She held the glass but didn't drink. All he could see from her stunned muscles was the twitching of her nose and the widening of her eyes. She set the cup down in an unusually calm manner, given her shocked expression.
"They're here," she breathed. "They're early. It's only Wednesday, why are they here?" She bolted out of the booth and vaulted over the backside, airborne nearly all the way to the door. "Fred, pack up my food!"
"Dahlia!" Fred screamed. "Don'chu dare! You get back here!"
But she was already out so fast that the door flung into the side of the restaurant and shook the building when it slammed back into place. Fred cursed,
"Dammit! She's gonna get herself killed!"
Adrenaline surged through Shadow as he tore out of the restaurant. Once outside, he cast his gaze all around before spotting her darting toward the town center. He ran after her, silently cursing his air shoes for their lack of cooperation, hover feature inactive. Whether this was due to his previous fatigue or not being in the vicinity of the Chaos Emeralds, he couldn't ponder before catching up to her side.
He asked, "What's going on?"
"The Hecklers are in town."
"Hecklers?"
"No-good loan sharks. Been bleedin' us dry a' money for months now, but I won't let 'em anymore."
Her pace quickened and he followed suit, keeping stride with her as people running the opposite direction ripped past his vision. He and Dahlia went through the town center, past the fountain, and toward shoddier stands on the opposite side. Not too far along the path, he saw a bright blue, tall and lanky chameleon in the distance. He could tell even from afar that the well-dressed chameleon had nothing but malintent for Woodland Follies.
As he drew closer, he noticed four others around the chameleon — two large and two small — besetting upon a meat stand. Dahlia growled as the chameleon swept a piece of merchandise to the ground, then Shadow heard him talking.
"This is really the best you have? You'll have to do better than that to get out of pay—"
"That's enough!"
Dahlia's roar resounded so viciously that it halted the group in their tracks, in tandem with Dahlia's quick stop. Shadow stood beside her, observing.
She spat, "This has gone on long enough, Heck. Let 'im go."
"Dahlia," the chameleon, Heck, smirked. "You should be happy to see me. After all, I brought Razz, didn't I?"
"Get out! Leave before I hafta kick all a' your asses!"
Heck chuckled, then whipped his tail around and destroyed the meat stand. The stand's owner hit the ground alongside his fallen products to avoid the flying debris.
Heck's tooth-filled smirk glinted at her. "Try us."
With a snap of his fingers, the bulkiest of the bunch, a golden lion, snarled and charged forward. His sharp claws at the ready didn't seem to outwardly phase her. She bit and tugged her gloves off one at a time, second glove falling to the ground just as she clashed with the lion, obstructing his forearms in clenched hands. But he proved much stronger and shoved her, making her stumble aside. His hand came down, sharp nails clipping some fur from her neck and chest as she jerked back.
Behind the lion, an orange mole dug and disappeared inside of the earth, and a green raccoon foolhardily lunged forward as Dahlia ducked under the lion's next punch. She caught the raccoon's shoulders, then rolled back and kicked him over her, hurling him behind her before bolting upright.
That move left her vulnerable. She couldn't dodge the lion's next attack. From beside, his fist collided with her stomach, forcing air out of her and driving her down into the cobblestones. Seemed it disoriented her as even after his fist left her gut, she could only groan and lay there. His opposite hand reared back another fearsome punch and Dahlia's wide eyes stared in terror.
Shadow's observations stopped. His mind dashed to Maria — how helplessly she looked into the face of the G.U.N soldier who murdered her. Her rounded eyes and contorted, fear-laden face haunted him. He'd been unable to stop it. He'd failed her. She was dead because of him, because he couldn't protect her. Fred's voice rang through him — "She's gonna get herself killed!".
No.
NO. Dahlia would not die today.
Spinning into a ball, he propelled himself at the lion, speed unparalleled. His quills slammed into his foe, catapulting the lion across the marketplace. The lion hit the final goon, a brown wolf, and threw them both to the ground. He landed in front of Dahlia.
Their eyes met — relief that filled her also filled him. He reached out and their hands again met, this time in a resonating touch, one that traveled throughout his entire being. His hand clenched hers tightly as she grunted and staggered to her feet. Words of concern escaped his throat before he could stop them.
"You all right?"
"Y-Yeah, I'm okay," she replied through a grimace, voice strained as she held her stomach.
He didn't know exactly why rage tore through him — be it thoughts of Maria or something else entirely — but seeing her in such pain fueled his fury. Hurt and anger pushed him to show the group of thugs no mercy; his only desire: make them suffer.
The raccoon offered himself up first. He wouldn't stand a chance. To conserve his energy, he waited for the raccoon to reach him, then slammed his fist into his oncoming jaw, knocking his opponent to the ground.
Out cold. Too easy, just as he thought. He turned toward the real battle: the larger lion and wolf, both of whom got to their feet. An enraged roar belted from the rushing lion. Even lacking speed and power from the Chaos Emeralds, he easily side-stepped the slow attack.
The lion's momentum followed through, and in that moment, Shadow swept at his ankles to send him toppling. It gave him enough time to dodge a punch from the wolf; left, then right, then left before an opening appeared. An uppercut to the wolf's muzzle sent him stumbling back and Shadow tried to go for another punch, but the lion's huge hand clutched Shadow's ankle, distracting him. The lion only managed small tug before Dahlia's form zipped before Shadow's eyes, leaving his ankle free again. She'd slid along the ground and kicked the lion away by his side. He huddled into his wound.
Shadow couldn't watch them for long as the wolf attacked again, so close that he had to backflip away from the furious punch. As his hands hit the ground, the cobblestone beneath him shattered and the orange mole flew out. Claws scraped the white fur upon his chest, but the moment his feet landed, the mole jumped back into the burrow and disappeared again. He could prove to be a problem, the coward.
"Razz!" The lion called out, now on his feet, "Pinch!"
He and the wolf stormed Shadow from each side, Dahlia's ankles grabbed by the mole when she lunged to intervene, keeping her in place. Razz came from his right, the lion from his left, just far enough in front and behind to make escape in those directions unfeasible. If he turned to fight just one or the other, he'd get hit from behind. He needed to quickly decide: take the hit from the lion, or from Razz.
He lurched forward, spinning on a heel to face Razz with his arms up to block the punch. The powerful hit not only shoved his arms into his jaw, but lifted his feet off the pathway and launched him backward. Cobblestones scraped against his back as he skid, kicking up dirt and rocks. But he quickly stopped against something soft. His scrunched eyes opened to reveal Dahlia, whose hands rested on his shoulders and chest pressed against his head.
He asked, "Where's the mole?"
"Donezo. Just these two jokers left."
He got to his feet, he and Dahlia standing side by side. Across from her, Razz — across from him, the lion. His lungs burned from heavy breaths and the hot air dried his throat.
"Razz looks pretty rough," said Dahlia. "Who knew you'd be such a formidable opponent, Shadow."
"God, I hope that's a bad joke."
She snickered. "You get Leon, I get Razz?"
"I could take them both."
Before anyone could continue, a whistle screeched through the air. Leon and Razz immediately broke their fighting stances and went off toward their fallen teammates. Shadow's eyes shot to the source of the whistle: Heck.
"That's quite enough," said Heck. "Didn't realize you'd bring back-up this time, Dahlia. Seems you're not as stupid as I once thought."
Dahlia snarled, "Get the hell out of my town."
"Don't think this is over. We'll be back next week and we'll expect double the payout."
He whirled around and strut away, followed by Leon with the mole over his shoulder. Razz walked by them, lugging the raccoon. He exchanged glances with Dahlia. Her squinted glare and flattened ears contrasted with Razz's lowered eyes and tight frown. The brown wolf didn't stick around.
As the Hecklers left, the crowd that had apparently formed around him and Dahlia began to shout and cheer. Once the Hecklers were out of sight, the excited crowd rallied around him and Dahlia. Voices mingled together; shouts of praise, ovation, exuberant yells of happiness. A few strangers patted Shadow on the back and shoulders or forcibly shook his hand and he felt Dahlia getting jostled around next to him.
She smiled, interlocking her arm with his. "Couldn't a' done it without ya, partner."
Liked this? Show me some support!
tinyurl dot com /CiCi-arts-p