Fan Fiction: Short Stories

Never Forget
by Qutime

  The Shadow, like his name, crept soundlessly with the bag and newspaper still in hand, and opened the door. He was greeted by a miraculous mural painstakingly rendered in all its unique beauty. The only wall left untouched was directly over the bed, were a very old and tattered poster of The Shadow hung sweeping his badly drawn cloak. As he remembered how to breathe, The Shadow took a breath before closing the door in silence.

  There was purpose, he decided, purpose amongst all that chaos of color and line. A purpose, which words failed to describe or define. Quickly he released the doorknob like a hot handle and stepped way. The Shadow dimly understood why she had written the letter. It was a cry for help, but he could not begin to grasp why or even how Kyoko Sovna had gathered the courage to send it, let alone how such a letter had actually gotten into the right hands. Fate? No. The Shadow shook his head, turning about and heading for his room, this was something more powerful than Fate.

  Perhaps, it was Destiny that had thrown them together, but for what purpose? The Shadow considered it carefully upon entering his room, only to find that the walls were also painted. Though, it was unlike the chaos within Kyoko Sovna's room, it was a simplistic landscape of snow capped mountains. He felt serene and peaceful despite the cramped space. It was something he had not felt in a very long time. Upon the made bed were some clothes and a towel. The Shadow could only guess that vanity items were in the bathroom. With the utmost care, he slipped the bag beneath the bed, making sure that he could grab it at a moment's notice. It seemed kind of pointless to still be carrying around those partial things, but having them there made him feel...feel comfortable in ways that could not be described.

  It was then that The Shadow realized he was still wearing his coat, which gave him a good chuckle. It had been awhile since he had been forced to hang up his own coat, but that could wait. A hot shower was definitely needed before anything else. With aged grace, The Shadow slipped out of his coat, sweater, kakis, and socks. In his boxers, The Shadow lifted up the towel, heading towards the bathroom. It was sparse, if anything at all… as if Kyoko Sovna believed in true natural beauty than illusions. Again The Shadow smiled slightly, and proceeded to have a shower.

  A hot shower never felt that good, he decided upon exiting his room dressed in slippers and midnight blue sweat pants, maybe this time, my retirement is for good. A snicker escaped him as The Shadow, with coat and newspaper in arm, wandered through the hallway. Finding the coat hooks was not difficult, and he could not believe he had actually missed them. Upon hanging his coat, The Shadow strolled into the kitchen for a cup of tea and something to eat. He found both, in a prepared sandwich, and boxes upon boxes of green tea. The Shadow set the kettle, already resting upon the range to boil, then snagged a barstool with paper and sandwich in tow.

  The Shadow casually browsed through Paragon Times till the water was ready. It was only then with steaming cup of green tea in a maple clay mug and sandwich set aside, that The Shadow really began to reading the paper with fully interest. Hours could have passed and he could care less, for this was how one was suppose to enjoy life beyond retirement: finding some other way to keep oneself occupied, though The Shadow doubted it was working. Yet he was not aroused from his reading till he heard the bolt being turned in the door. A shake of his head indicated how foolhardy he had been upon pulling out the sandwich. At least the green tea had gotten some attention.

  Pretending to stretch in order to get a better view of the front door as it opened, The Shadow was curious about this woman who called herself Dark. His gaze fell upon an five-foot-three half-Asian woman bent over while slipping out of her shoes. Then she stood up, revealing her haunted storm-ridden eyes which widen with surprise and joy, slightly offset by pallid-tan skin and shoulder-length shadowy hair. Her slightly full lips cracked a half smile, which bloomed into a full one.

  "So," comes a voice louder then The Shadow could have expected from such a stout woman, "you must be Mr. Shadow?" A chuckle must have escaped him, for she looked quite embarrassed.

  "No," came his firm but gentle voice, "just Shadow...and that would make you Dark, would it not?" At this she flushed.

  "Ah man," she groaned, slapping her forehead, "I didn't really sign a letter with my artist name?"

  "I'm afraid so," The Shadow answered, trying to humor her, "I still have the letter, if you like to see…"

  "No, no, no," she stammered, shrugging out of her black knee-length leather coat, "that's quite all right. Sometimes I have a tendency to interchange my namesake with my name." Then she stepped up and into the apartment.

  "Hi," she held out her right hand in greeting, "I'm Kyoko 'Dark' Sovna."

  "Shadow," he took up her offered hand with an old world charm, "and it's my pleasure." He kissed the back of Kyoko's hand then let it go.

  "A charmer, I see..." There was a playfulness in her tone, and then she caught a good glance of The Shadow up close and personal. "and you're seventy-three?!"

  "I've aged well," The Shadow automatically replied, for it was half true.

  "Indeed," said Kyoko, giving him the once over again, "I hope I do as well, when I get that old." Her eyes darted towards the untouched sandwich, "You weren't really going to eat that?" The Shadow saw what she was fingering, and snickered at the question.