This chapter has been updated as of 09/08/2020
Tuesday, November 1st, 10:43am, Station Square Academy
Shadow stares out the classroom window, an irate sigh escaping his lips. He knows all this, he shouldn't have to deal with subjects he already knows inside and out. It's the same in all of his other courses too. They're all so easy. Boring, even. He'd switch to higher level courses, but he's already in the highest level the school offers. He desperately needs a challenge—craves it deep in his soul—but unless he asks to take his exams early and tries to get into university ahead of time, he won't find one. Unfortunately it's a bit late to try that, and even if it weren't, the idea doesn't actually appeal to him. Shadow dislikes change. Plus, going to university means meeting new people, and meeting new people means someone might try to befriend him. Better to put that off as long as possible.
It isn't that Shadow doesn't want friends, not really. He has someone he considers a friend, and he even enjoys her company from time to time. He just doesn't want to let anyone new in. If he cares about people they can hurt him. The more they know about him, the more they have to use against him. Very few people are worth that kind of risk in his opinion. As far as he's concerned it's easier to just not get to know anyone. Is he missing out? Maybe. Does he care? No.
At least at this school it's easy enough to keep people at bay. When Shadow was younger he had been prone to angry outbursts that tended to end in violence. He'd broken some kid's wrist for calling him gay when he was eleven. The insult itself hadn't been what pushed him over; who cares what people think? But the fact that the kid had gotten up in Shadow's face? Shadow never could handle that kind of behaviour in a reasonable manner. He's pretty sure he still can't, but it hasn't come up in years because of his reputation. Or, maybe he would handle such a situation better now. He's calmed down considerably, after all, but he would really rather not test it.
The bell rings and Shadow makes his way to the cafeteria to buy lunch, which he eats outside behind the gym with Manic. Manic is... interesting. He has angular brown-black eyes, spiked green hair, a complete disregard for the school's uniform and dress code, and could maybe be described as something close to a friend. Maybe. Some days, Shadow considers talking to the guy, but that's not really how their dynamic works. Shadow sits down somewhere, and Manic finds him. Then Manic proceeds to talk at length about whatever he deems fitting, and Shadow makes non-committal grunting noises whenever there's an expectant pause. That's how it is and how it has always been, and as stated before: Shadow does not like change. Today Shadow tunes in long enough to determine that Manic is telling some far-fetched story about living in the sewers for a summer, before opening his book and pointedly reading. Honestly, he doesn't know why Manic speaks to him. He doesn't do anything to encourage the behaviour, never even replies with words. He knows Manic has other friends, and yet the snarky kleptomaniac insists on spending his lunch hours with Shadow.
People are strange.
When Manic's arm snakes around Shadow's shoulders he tries to shrug it off. Sometimes Manic gets a bit physical, but a stern glare is usually enough to get the other boy to back off.
"Yanno," Manic says, unfazed by Shadow's growing irritation. "We should totally go out sometime."
Shadow splutters, looking at Manic with wide-eyed disbelief for a moment before regaining his composure. "No," he finally manages in his sternest and most disapproving voice.
Manic grins, finally removing his arm from Shadow and scooting back to a respectable distance, hands raised with his palms out. "So you do listen?" he asks, eyebrows raised in surprise.
Shadow shrugs, not meeting his companion's eyes. "Not really," he admits.
If anything, Manic's grin grows. "I knew it. But that's okay, I like it. It's like having a diary that no one can ever read. It's great."
Shadow frowns for a moment before shaking his head. "You're strange."
Manic laughs, "Thanks, you too."
The two lapse into a surprisingly comfortable silence, but it doesn't take long for the curiosity to grow. Shadow's desire to know things has been piqued. "So, what kind of things do you tell your living diary?"
Manic laughs again. "No way, if you haven't been listening to any of the things I've been telling you over the past two years, that's a you problem." Shadow snorts, but the boy has a point. When Manic starts talking again Shadow actually finds himself paying attention. He can't help it.
...
After lunch is math, and Shadow feels his frustration growing. It's the same frustration he gets whenever he feels trapped, stuck in an undesirable situation and lacking the power to get out. He isn't learning anything new here, isn't even being challenged with difficult concepts. It's a waste of his time, really. He has better things he could be doing. At least at home he can be productive, not stuck in a box-shaped room where he's forced to listen to someone poorly explain concepts he mastered a year ago. Honestly, he doesn't know why he bothers showing up some days.
Eventually he gets up to leave, causing Mr. Stewart to draw his attention with a very deliberate throat clearing. "And where do you think you're going, young man?"
"Home," Shadow replies curtly, making his way to the door.
"I see. And, why are we going home, Mr. Hassan?"
"Because you're boring me," Shadow responds flatly, irked at having to explain himself. He knows that isn't the correct answer, knows that he's flagrantly disregarding the rules, but in this moment he really doesn't care. He needs to leave.
Mr. Stewart sighs and massages his temple. "Get back to your seat."
"Why?" Shadow asks, an imperious edge creeping into his tone.
"Because if you don't I'm going to give you detention."
"Which I won't be here for,"
"Then I'll suspend you." Despite his words, Mr. Stewart's heart doesn't seem all that into the conversation today. In fact, there's a familiar resonance in his voice, the flat, empty tones of someone who no longer cares. Shadow knows that tone all too well.
"Oh good, I won't have to come back," Shadow sneers, knowing it's unreasonable for him to be offended over the inevitable. If he had put even the tiniest bit of effort in, he could have prevented this. But he hadn't.
"In school suspension." Mr. Stewart doesn't even sound remotely bothered by Shadow's tone, and that just serves to piss him off.
"So I can waste even more of my time?" Shadow scoffs, voice condescending. "I won't come."
"Mr. Hassan, if you leave this room your mother will hear about it."
"I said I'm going home; the second I get there she'll know I left."
The slightest twitch of his lips betrays his exasperation, but all Mr. Stewart says is "fine," and just like that he goes back to explaining his formulas, not sparing another glance in Shadow's direction. Which is surprising. That's it? He isn't going to say anything else? Mr. Stewart never gives in so easily, he's the only person who challenges Shadow anymore.
The sound of murmuring draws his attention to the rest of the room, where his peers seem to be whispering. A few even seem to be laughing, which is absolutely not right.
"Class," Mr. Stewart calls, ordering all eyes back on him. "Simmer down. Shadow, I thought you were leaving?"
"Whatever," he mutters, hoping his cheeks don't look as flushed as they feel. With one final glare at his classmates, Shadow leaves.
When he gets home his mum is already on the phone, so he quietly kisses her coppery cheek before heading to his room. He's well aware she's talking to the school about him, but he isn't too worried. Aziza wants her son to be happy, and lets him make his own mistakes.
By the time a knock comes at his door he's calmed down considerably. "Come in," he calls, prompting his mum to poke her head in.
"The school called. Your teachers are very mad with you."
Shadow shrugs. "It's not my fault they have nothing to offer me."
"I understand, but if you could at least pretend interest. They want to expel you. I want you to have a good future, and if you are expelled..." she sighs at the thought.
Shadow allows his expression to soften into a reassuring smile. "I'll be fine, mum, you'll see. I'll finish high school, go to med school, and become a doctor."
"I love you no matter what you become, habibi. Always." Her shoulders slump. "You will not like it, but the school offers you a choice."
Shadow stiffens. "What do they want now?"
"You are smart, very smart. They ask for you to be one of the student tutors. If you do, they will forgive today. I told them yes. Visit the main office tomorrow and they will assign you a student." Shadow opens his mouth to protest, but she cuts him off. "Please, my son, I do not ask much. Please, do this for me."
There's a moment of strained silence before Shadow lets out a sigh. "Okay mum. If it will ease your worries, I will tutor whoever they assign me to." As Aziza leaves, Shadow can't help but think that he's making a mistake. He doesn't like change, and he doesn't like people. He especially doesn't like stupid people, so tutoring? He's sure it's only going to be a matter of weeks before everything crashes and burns.
Shadow sits at his desk for the rest of the afternoon, painting mini figures. He enjoys the task; the tiny details make it good for his manual dexterity, but it's mindless enough that he's able to think about more important matters. Like why Mr. Stewart giving up on him bothered him so much. Most people Shadow met gave up on him eventually, so why is this one such a big deal? True, Mr. Stewart had believed in Shadow for longer than most people, but that shouldn't make a difference.
Being humiliated in front of the class didn't help; the entire experience was new to Shadow, and he would like to never repeat it.
A knock at his door snaps Shadow out of his musing. "Come in!"
When the door doesn't open he lets out a sigh and puts down his work. There's only one person who makes him get up to let them in. There are only two people who come to his room to start with, but that's beside the point.
"Hello, handsome. Did you know you're the talk of the school?" Rouge greets when he opens the door, which earns a contemptuous snort as he leans against the frame.
"Rouge," he replies. "What are you doing here? Unless I'm mistaken, it's still Tuesday,"
Rouge is Shadow's only real friend. Sure, on the surface she is very much the hot, popular girl who gets everything she wants with daddy's money, but Shadow knows that there is so much more to her. Clever, calculating, willing to go after what she wants. She could be ruthless if she weren't fiercely loyal. Shadow admired those traits, mainly because he shared them. He'd originally met Rouge in detention five, maybe six, years ago. She'd introduced herself by asking if he'd really broken school property, and from there friendship blossomed. When they hit puberty Rouge became hot seemingly overnight and began to make other friends, causing her to spend less and less time with Shadow, but it didn't really change anything. Rouge consistently swung by every time his name is so much as whispered in the rumour mill, and they watch movies together and catch up on each other's lives every Thursday- Well, Rouge's life. Shadow rarely has anything new to talk about, but Rouge always has some hot new gossip to share. Even when Shadow does have news, Rouge is already aware.
Rouge's expression softens. "You know I worry about you, Shadow. What happened today? I know what everybody is saying, but I'd rather hear it from you."
"The class was boring so I left," Shadow explains. He can hear the edge in his voice, knows Rouge can too, but he really, really doesn't want to talk about it.
"Come on, I knows there's more to the story. What happened?"
"It's not a big deal, Rouge." His voice is firm, and he makes no effort to keep the 'none of your business' tone out of it. Rouge has never bowed down to him though, and this is no exception. Her willingness to stand her ground is part of what he likes about her. Maybe it's because she always manages it without getting in his face.
"So tell me then. If it doesn't matter, what's the harm?"
Shadow makes an exasperated noise in his throat, before walking over and dropping onto his couch, gesturing for Rouge to let herself in. She makes herself comfy next to him. "I decided to go home, and Mr. Stewart dismissed me like I was a common nobody," he explains. "Not exactly the end of the world."
Rouge shrugs, leaning back. "Maybe not, but I can't see that feeling good."
Shadow wants to blow this off, but it's Rouge, and she's known him long enough to know when he's actually upset. "Of course it didn't feel good, but I did it to myself."
Rouge nods and they sit in silence for a moment before her expression changes to a smirk. "So, what's your punishment this time? I still haven't gotten over the time they made you join choir in the hopes that being part of a non-competitive team would make you more sociable."
Shadow laughs at the memory. It'd been an absurd notion on the school's part, and he'd hated every minute of it. "To be fair, I am an exquisite singer. It's possible the choir just wanted an excuse to make me join them." Rouge laughs at that. "But honestly? I think they're done with making me join courses and clubs," he tucks a lock of hair behind his ear. "This time they want me to tutor someone."
"Well, that should be an experience," Rouge all but cackles. Shadow frowns, not appreciating the implications. "Who's the victim?"
"I fail to see how having me as a tutor makes someone a victim."
"They're going to be bad at a subject that you're good at," she explains with a grin, "I don't see you having the kind of patience needed to deal with that."
"I can be patient," Shadow huffs, even though he'd been thinking the same thing himself. Rouge gives him an indulgent smile.
"Of course you can, honey. But, the victim- Who?"
"I have no idea, I'm supposed to find out tomorrow."
"Ah. Well, good luck with that. In the meantime, I brought a movie. Interested?"
"Which movie?" Normally they trade off who gets to pick what they watch, and this week is supposed to be Shadow's turn, but it's not really movie night. He just hopes it's not another Chao in Space 7. Sure, bad movies can be fun, but Chao in Space 7 went so far beyond 'so-bad-it's-good' that it wound up firmly back in the 'just plain bad' category.
"I thought we could watch The Karate Chao," Rouge says, pulling said movie out of her backpack. Shadow smiles. The Karate Chao is what they watched the very first time they hung out. Shadow had been skeptical at the beginning, but he'd found himself enjoying the underdog story.
...
Wednesday morning passes by uneventfully. Shadow goes to his classes and does his work, just like any other day. At lunch he joins Manic behind the gym and they carry out the usual routine, although Shadow actually listens to his green-haired companion today, about the hover board Manic engineered some months ago, which, as far as Shadow understands, is just a flying skateboard. Eventually he has to cut Manic off.
"How is it that you have a new story every time I see you?"
Manic shrugs. "What can I say, I lead a very full life," he answers with a lazy grin. Shadow frowns. A full life is one thing, but this is just ridiculous. He determines that Manic is probably just making up the majority of his stories.
Once the lunch period is over Shadow heads to math, where he doesn't make eye contact with anyone as he takes his seat. He finishes his worksheet quickly, and then spends the rest of class trying to figure out how exactly one would go about making a hover board. If Manic had, in fact, managed to assemble one then there's no reason Shadow shouldn't be able to. It would be easy enough to make something that hovers along the ground if one had the right parts and knowledge, but Manic had made it sound like his actually flew. Perhaps if Shadow modifies a jet-pack...
By the end of class he has three full pages of notes dedicated to the concept, and a rough design.
PE comes after math, and Shadow finds himself feeling almost excited. Sure, PE is just as easy for him as everything else, but it's a bit more involved. Mondays and Tuesdays are dedicated to learning new things, Thursdays are review, and Fridays are game days. That leaves Wednesday, the middle of the week, for runs. It's supposed to break up the monotony of always doing the same thing, but Shadow doesn't particularly care about the reasoning. He just cares about the running, and since it's a particularly nice day, they'll be running in the forest beside the school.
As the students stretch, their coach starts pairing them up based on average run speeds. It's mainly a safety precaution, in case anyone trips on a root. As always, Shadow gets paired with Sonic. Sonic is the only person in the entire school that is faster than Shadow, and he never seems to break a sweat. As a result Shadow has considered him a rival for years. They're given the okay to start, and Sonic and Shadow quickly outpace their classmates. Shadow feels the adrenaline hit, and he feels wonderful. Free. He doesn't hold back, running as fast as he can sustainably go.
"You're good," Sonic notes, distracting Shadow from the joy that is running. "I really think you should reconsider your previous decision about the track team. We could really use your speed."
Shadow grunts. "What, the team's not satisfied with just you anymore?"
"I'm just one guy," Sonic protests with a laugh. "I can't carry an entire team single-handedly."
"You've managed so far," Shadow points out, trying not to feel frustrated that he's going all out and Sonic has yet to break a sweat.
"Maybe, but Regionals are coming up. Having you on the team would guarantee us a spot all the way through to Nationals. Maybe further."
Shadow huffs, both flattered and irritated by his rival's optimism and persistence. "I'll consider it, but I have prior commitments."
Sonic grins. "That's better than a no. Shadow, if you join, you won't be sorry."
Shadow rolls his eyes. Still, it's nice to be recognized by someone he considers an equal. After that the blue-haired boy is blessedly quiet, and Shadow is able to return to his inner peace.
Eventually the coach gestures for them to come in when one of their laps brings them within sight of him. "You two are amazing, but it's nearly time to head back. While I'm sure you guys could finish another lap, I'm obligated to call you in now."
Shadow slumps to the ground gratefully. He always runs much harder than he should in the forest, trying to outpace his competition. As he catches his breath, Sonic grabs the spare water bottle he never seems to forget and tosses it to Shadow, like he does every week.
"Drink up, buddy, you've earned it."
If Shadow weren't so parched he'd have some stern words about Sonic referring to him as 'buddy'.
...
After a quick shower in the changing room Shadow hastens to put on his uniform and get to Homeroom, where the teacher checks off that you're still at school and reminds everyone of any upcoming events that students require forms for. After that he heads to the office to find out who he's going to be tutoring.
"Oh, Shadow, hello," the school's secretary greets. "What brings you in today?"
"I was told to come here about tutoring?"
"Ah, yes, of course. Just a second...," she rifles around her desk for a moment before locating the correct paper. "Are you available Tuesdays and Thursdays from three to five?"
"Yes."
"Excellent, then you will be tutoring Amelia Rose in History starting next week."
"Tuesdays and Thursdays, three to five, Amelia Rose, History. Got it." Shadow turns to go.
"Wait," the secretary calls as he heads out the door. "Don't you want me to write it down for you?"
"No," Shadow answers. "I'll remember."
"Well at least let me give you the address."
Shadow pauses, looking at her expectantly. "Well?" he urges when it becomes clear she's waiting for him.
"614, 7th Street Southwest. Unit 1102. It's in the Twinkle Park area."
Shadow nods and leaves, finally getting to head home and resume his earlier calculations. Ultimately, he decides to go with skates instead of a board. Flying through the air, while cool, does not seem practical. Plus, with hover skates he'll have the option to walk normally without having to carry them, and won't be at risk of falling off.
He opts to skip school Thursday to work on a prototype, only stopping around two thirty to get ready for Rouge's arrival. He fully expects her to be late—she enjoys dawdling after class and talking to her friends—but he intends to be set up on time anyways. Shadow is never late if he can help it.
As expected, Rouge doesn't arrive until three. "Late as always," Shadow teases.
"And yet you still wait. You're so well trained," Rouge purrs, slow and sweet as honey.
Shadow makes a sound halfway between a snort and a laugh. "Are you ready?"
"I'm always ready, hon'. What are we watching tonight?"
"I was thinking we could watch Cry of the Werehog."
"Isn't that movie like, sixty years old?" Rouge asks.
"More like seventy. Will that be a problem?"
"I'm not a fan of old movies," she reminds him.
"And I'm not a fan of action comedies, but you don't see me complaining on your weeks."
"Fair. So do you know who you'll be tutoring yet?"
"One Amelia Rose," Shadow answers. The name isn't familiar to him, but Rouge knows everybody so-
"Amy?"
"You know her?" Shadow asks, even though it's clear that she does. A better question might have been 'How well do you know her?' but the words were already out.
"Yeah, she's Sonia's friend. She talks a lot and can be quite enthusiastic, especially when on the subject of Sonic. I suspect you'll get tired of it fast, but you should go easy on her. She's nice." Shadow grunts, and the topic moves on as the movie starts up; Rouge is planning to have a pool party soon, and she wants Shadow to come.
Once their show is over Aziza makes them dinner. Then Rouge leaves and Shadow goes back to working on his hoverskates until he's convinced to go to bed.
...
Aziza makes Shadow go to school on Friday so that he can get all the work he missed Thursday, and Shadow spends the entire day impatient to get home to his hover skates. It passes even slower than usual, but it lets out eventually. As soon as it does Shadow runs home, eager to continue his project. The prototype is nearly ready for testing, in Shadow's estimation, and he can't remember the last time he was this excited about anything.
After two hours of tinkering, he decides it's time. Any other tweaks he needs to make will require actual testing to figure out. "I'm going out for a bit," he calls as he heads to the door. "I'll be back before dinner."
"Where do you go, habibi?" Aziza calls back.
"Just taking a walk, I'll see you later."
"Be safe," he hears as the door shuts behind him. He heads for the school, figuring the outdoor track would make a good practise rink. There's no one there once he arrives, and he puts on his new skates with a sense of barely concealed excitement. They're bulkier than his normal shoes, with a switch at the toes to activate them. They're not pretty, but that's because they're still a prototype. The key to using them, he suspects, is not activating them from standing, so he starts running, building up speed until he's ready. Once he feels like he's going fast enough he taps the switch, adjusting his gait so that his legs are sliding like they do when skating. The bottoms of the skates flare to life, and then he's flying along at speeds he'd never have dared to dream of. The wind catches his hair, and he finds himself grinning wider than he ever has before. This is amazing, even better than running.
The euphoria is short lived; one of his skates stalls and his foot hits the ground unexpectedly. For a moment, Shadow really is flying. But the thing about flying is that you have to land eventually, and when he hits the ground, he hits it hard, skidding several meters before coming to a stop. Shadow lays there, just for a moment, trying to catch his breath. Everything hurts, and he feels wet, which isn't right. It isn't raining, why would he feel wet?
He should sit up and get his bearings, but the sky looks nice from here. Maybe he should lay down for a while. No, no, he needs to focus. Is that the sound of someone coming? He tries to sit up, but his vision starts blurring.
"Shadow?" a familiar voice echoes around him, yelled from a distance but too close to actually be far away. "Shadow, are you okay?" He gives up on sitting up, instead turning to look at whoever had come to see him. "Holy cow, Shadow, you need to stop moving. You're going to hurt yourself!" Hands push on his shoulders when he tries to sit again, keeping him on the ground. Blue hair and green eyes kneel over him. "Shadow, I'm going to get some help, but I need you to stay still. Can you do that for me, buddy?" Shadow nods, and it feels like there are hot pokers behind his eyes. The person is running away now, faster than Shadow can make sense of. He wants to sleep, but his mum is in the back of his head, telling him that sleep would be a bad idea.
"Stay awake, habibi. Do not leave to sleep."
Shadow's head feels much less muddled when Sonic returns, and now that he can think clearly, he knows better than to sit. With Sonic is a small kid with fluffy orange hair. "Tails says we can't move you, but we've called an ambulance. How are you holding up?"
Shadow grunts. "I think I was in shock, but I feel a lot better now." His head still hurts, though, and he's pretty sure he's bleeding. Still, he can think again. While waiting for the ambulance, he tries to figure out what went wrong. Sonic and Tails don't take the ambulance with him, but they arrive at the hospital soon after he does.
The ER runs several tests before ultimately determining that Shadow is fine. He has a bit of road rash, has lost a fair bit of blood, but nothing was as bad as it seemed; No concussion, no need for stitches. They tell him he's very lucky, and keep asking what he was doing. They seem a bit skeptical when he insists he was running, but ultimately accept it.
Once he's sure that Shadow is fine, Sonic leaves, apologizing profusely but explaining that someone is waiting. He runs off, and Shadow wonders if the guy even knows how to walk. Tails stays until Shadow's mum arrives, then he heads off as well.
Aziza rushes to Shadow's hospital bed and pulls him into her arms. "My son, what happens? You say you go to walk, but now you are here?"
"Mum, please," Shadow gasps, trying to loosen her grip. "I was running and I tripped."
"You run too fast, habibi. You must go slow."
When they get home, Shadow goes straight to his room, hoping to figure out where he went wrong. Eventually he determines that one of the wires simply shorted, and decides to figure out how to prevent a repeat in the morning.
...
Shadow runs through metallic corridors, clinging tight to his companion's hand. He's younger, maybe nine or ten. He glances back at her and she's struggling to keep pace, but he doesn't slow down. Just a little further, they're almost there. Soon. The control room is in sight. As they pass through the doors, she trips, her hand slipping out of his grip as his momentum carries him a few more steps forward. By the time he manages to stop himself and turn around she's standing at the control panel, sweat messing her blond hair. He sees the men and their guns coming and intends to intercept them, but is stopped by a glass tube crashing around him. She'd hit the button.
She's talking to him, but he can't hear her over his racing pulse. The tube ejects and the last thing he sees is her body being torn apart by bullets.
"Maria!"
He screams her name loud enough to wake himself up. He's sitting up in his bed, tears in his eyes. For a moment he can't catch his breath.
His door opens and Aziza rushes in, climbing the ladder to his bed so she can rest a comforting hand on his back.
"You dreamed again." It's not a question, and her tone is sad. Shadow nods. Ever since he'd woken up from the accident that had killed his father, he had been having this dream. He has it less often these days, but it still comes every few weeks. "Remember, dreams do not hurt you," Aziza soothes, running her fingers through his hair. Shadow grunts. It hadn't felt like a dream- it never did. It felt real, and remembering does hurt.
He pulls away from his mother, sliding over the railing and dropping to the ground next to her so that he can head downstairs to the kitchen and make some tea. Aziza lets him go without interfering. He stares as the water boils, watches the bubbles fight to the surface, trying to break free. He doesn't know why he feels trapped so often. Aziza let's him do almost whatever he wants, rarely pushes him to do things he doesn't want to, and she gives him plenty of space. He's not limited by any personal disability either. He's fit, healthy, smart. It makes no sense for him to feel trapped. Eventually, he pours the water into the mug, letting the tea steep, adding cane sugar, milk, and mint leaves for flavour a few minutes later. Maria's broken body is all he sees as he drinks.
He spends the rest of his weekend refining the hover skates and working on homework, generally keeping his mind occupied. By Monday, it's as if the dream never happened. He remembers it, yes, but it's just that, the memory of a dream. Nothing worth his attention.