Blaze sat across from Shadow, her back perfectly straight, her hands folded neatly in her lap. She could feel the weight of his crimson gaze even as he pretended to focus on the soup she had practically forced into his hands. The only sounds in the room were the faint hum of the air conditioning and the occasional clink of the spoon against the container.

It was awkward. Painfully so.

Blaze had never been one for small talk, but the suffocating silence gnawed at her nerves. She glanced at Shadow, who was eating the soup so slowly it was almost as if he were trying to make a point. His movements were stiff, deliberate. His face betrayed nothing, save for the faint flicker of irritation that never seemed far from him.

Her tail flicked against the floor as she fidgeted, her claws lightly tapping on her thigh. She hated feeling restless, but the tension in the room was unbearable. Shadow didn't seem to care. If anything, he seemed content to let the silence stretch on forever, his eyes occasionally flicking up to her, as if daring her to say something.

Blaze eventually grabbed her tablet off the coffee table, her movements a little too quick to seem natural. She needed something—anything—to distract herself from the awkwardness. She unlocked the screen and opened a document she had been working on earlier, pretending to read while the seconds dragged on.

Shadow's eyes shifted toward her, the faintest quirk of his brow breaking his otherwise stony expression. "What are you doing?" he asked, his voice low but sharp enough to cut through the silence.

Blaze's ears flicked, but she didn't look up from the screen. "Keeping busy," she replied simply, her tone calm though her fingers tightened slightly around the tablet.

Shadow let out a soft, disdainful grunt. "You're not very good at hiding it."

Blaze's golden eyes snapped up to meet his. "Hiding what?" she asked, her voice sharper than she intended.

Shadow's spoon paused halfway to his mouth. "That you're uncomfortable," he said bluntly, his crimson eyes narrowing slightly. "You've been fidgeting ever since you sat down."

Blaze's tail flicked again, betraying her annoyance. "I'm not uncomfortable," she said firmly, though her tone lacked the conviction she hoped for.

Shadow gave her a look that bordered on skeptical. "You could've fooled me."

Blaze exhaled sharply through her nose, her claws lightly tapping against the edge of the tablet. She wasn't about to let him get under her skin—not after everything she had gone through just to make sure he was taken care of.

"I'm only here because you refuse to take care of yourself," she said, her voice steady but with a slight edge. "If you'd just cooperate, we wouldn't even have to be in this situation."

Shadow's eyes narrowed further, and he set the soup container down on the table with a soft thud. "I didn't ask you to come here," he said coldly.

Blaze's patience, already frayed, finally snapped. She leaned forward, her golden eyes blazing with frustration. "No, you didn't. But you also didn't leave me much of a choice when you decided to bleed all over Rouge's couch instead of actually letting someone help you!"

Shadow's gaze darkened, and for a moment, Blaze thought he might snap back at her. Instead, he leaned back against the sofa, his expression unreadable. "I never needed any help," he muttered, though his voice lacked the same bite it had earlier.

Blaze crossed her arms, her tail flicking sharply behind her. "Clearly, you do. Or do you think it's normal to be this injured and still act like you're invincible?"

Shadow didn't respond immediately. He picked up the soup again, as if to avoid answering her question. Blaze sighed, leaning back in her chair and forcing herself to soften her tone.

"Look," she said quietly, her fingers idly tracing the edge of the tablet. "I'm not here to argue with you. I just… want to make sure you're okay. That's all."

Shadow glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, his expression blank. For a moment, Blaze thought he might say something, but he simply went back to eating his soup in silence.

The quiet returned, heavier than before. Blaze's fingers hovered over the tablet screen, but she couldn't focus on the words in front of her. Her mind kept drifting back to Shadow, to the way he had thrown himself into harm's way without hesitation.

Finally, she couldn't take it anymore. She set the tablet down and crossed her arms, her gaze fixed on him.

"Why?" she asked, her voice breaking the silence like a shard of glass.

Shadow didn't look up. "Why what?"

"Why did you do it?" Blaze pressed, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Why did you take those bullets for me? Clearly, you don't want to be in the same room with me, much less accept my help. So why help me?"

Shadow's spoon paused mid-air, and for a moment, he didn't answer. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, almost dismissive. "It was my mission."

Blaze's tail lashed against the floor, her temper flaring again. "That's not an answer," she said, her voice firm. "You could've left me to handle it. You didn't have to throw yourself in front of me like that."

Shadow's crimson eyes finally met hers, and for a moment, Blaze saw something flicker in his gaze—something she couldn't quite place. "You wouldn't understand," he said quietly, his voice tinged with something that almost sounded like regret.

Blaze's claws flexed against her arms, and she leaned forward, her voice softening despite her frustration. "Try me."

Shadow's gaze lingered on her for a moment longer before he looked away, his expression hardening again. "I don't owe you an explanation," he said flatly.

Blaze exhaled sharply, her ears flicking back in irritation. "You're impossible," she muttered, leaning back in her chair.

"And you're nosy," Shadow shot back, though his voice lacked its usual venom.

Blaze crossed her arms, her golden eyes narrowing as she watched him finish the last of the soup. He set the empty container down on the table and leaned back against the sofa, his expression as unreadable as ever.

The silence returned, but this time, it felt less suffocating. Well, a little bit. Blaze picked up her tablet again, though she barely glanced at the screen. Her mind was still buzzing with questions, but she knew better than to push Shadow any further tonight.

For now, she would let the silence settle between them. It wasn't peace, exactly, but it was something close enough.

—-

Blaze had just managed to finally immerse herself in the document on her tablet when Shadow's voice cut through the stillness like a whip.

"Call Rouge," he said abruptly, his tone leaving no room for debate.

Blaze blinked, looking up from her tablet in surprise. His crimson eyes were fixed on her, his expression as impassive as ever, but the sharpness in his voice made it sound less like a request and more like an order. Blaze's ears flicked in irritation.

"Call her and tell her to print what she found today and bring it back," he added, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Blaze sighed, her patience already fraying after the endless back-and-forth they'd endured earlier. She set her tablet down on her lap and crossed her arms, leveling him with a pointed stare. "One, you're supposed to be resting. Two, why don't you just call her yourself? And three…" She tilted her head, confused. "Print? Who even prints anything anymore?"

Shadow huffed, leaning back against the couch with a scowl. "My phone's dead," he muttered, as if that explained everything.

Blaze raised an eyebrow. "And you couldn't charge it… why?"

"Rouge doesn't have a charger for it," he replied flatly, his tone making it clear he thought the question was stupid. "And I'm sure she's missing something in her research. I need to review it myself."

Blaze's tail flicked sharply behind her as she tried to make sense of his reasoning. "Okay, but if you're asking Rouge to bring it, why not ask her to email it or something? Wouldn't that be easier than printing?"

Shadow didn't answer right away. His expression remained stony, his arms crossed tightly over his freshly bandaged chest. Blaze noticed the faintest twitch of his brow, a sign of irritation, before he looked away, his gaze fixed on the far wall.

Something about his silence struck her as odd. She glanced toward the end table next to the couch, where a small, battered object sat half-hidden beneath a magazine. Her eyes widened as realization dawned on her.

"Wait a minute…" Blaze said slowly, her voice tinged with disbelief. She leaned forward, her gaze fixed on the object. "Is that… a flip phone?"

Shadow's scowl deepened, but he didn't deny it.

Blaze's jaw dropped slightly, and she blinked, momentarily at a loss for words. "You're telling me," she said, her tone incredulous, "that you—the so-called Ultimate Lifeform—are still using a flip phone?"

Shadow's crimson eyes snapped back to hers, narrowing dangerously. "It works," he said defensively, his voice low and clipped.

Blaze couldn't help it—she laughed. It was a quiet, restrained sound, but it was genuine, and it caught even her off-guard. She quickly pressed a hand to her mouth, trying to suppress it, but the amused flick of her tail gave her away.

Shadow's glare darkened. "What's so funny?"

Blaze composed herself, though the corners of her mouth twitched with the faintest hint of a smile. "I just… didn't expect you of all people to be so, well… outdated. I mean, a flip phone? Do you even know how to use modern technology?"

Shadow's frown deepened, and he crossed his arms over his chest. "I don't need 'modern technology,'" he said, his tone laced with disdain. "This does what I need it to do. Calls, texts, nothing more."

Blaze leaned back in her chair, her golden eyes glinting with amusement despite her best efforts to remain composed. "So, no apps? No email? No internet? Just… calls and texts?"

"Exactly," Shadow replied, his voice unwavering.

Blaze stared at him for a moment, trying to decide if he was being serious. When it became clear that he was, she shook her head, a soft sigh escaping her lips. "You really are impossible," she muttered, though there was an undertone of genuine disbelief in her voice.

Shadow didn't respond, but his glare softened ever so slightly, as if he could sense that her words weren't entirely meant as an insult.

"Fine," Blaze said finally, picking up her tablet again. "I'll call Rouge for you. But next time, maybe consider upgrading to a phone that was made this century."

Shadow scoffed.

Blaze quickly sent a message to Rouge, requesting that she bring back the printed documents Shadow had requested. As she typed, she glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, still trying to wrap her head around the fact that Shadow the Hedgehog—the so-called Ultimate Lifeform—was clinging to a relic of the past.

"So…Do you even know how to use a smartphone?" she asked after a moment, her tone light but teasing.

Shadow shot her a sharp look, his crimson eyes narrowing. "Of course I do," he said, though there was a faint edge of defensiveness in his voice.

Blaze arched an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "Really? Because you don't exactly strike me as the tech-savvy type now."

Shadow didn't answer, his gaze flicking away. Blaze smirked, satisfied that she had struck a nerve.

For a while, the room fell into silence again, though it felt less tense than before. Shadow leaned back against the couch, his eyes closing briefly as the exhaustion from the day seemed to catch up with him. Blaze returned to her tablet, though her thoughts kept drifting back to the flip phone on the table.

Despite her initial amusement, she couldn't help but find it oddly fitting. Shadow had always been a creature of habit, someone who relied on his instincts and experience rather than the conveniences of modern life. A flip phone, as ridiculous as it seemed, was just another extension of his no-nonsense approach to the world.

Still, she couldn't resist one final jab.

"You know," she said casually, not looking up from her tablet, "if you ever decide to join the 21st century, I could help you pick out a new phone."

Shadow opened one eye, glaring at her. "Not interested."

Blaze smirked. "Suit yourself. But don't come crying to me when flip phones finally go extinct."

Shadow didn't dignify that with a response, but Blaze could've sworn she saw the faintest twitch of a smirk on his face before he closed his eyes again.