First Training

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"That sounds so boring." Sonic said.

Shadow could feel his steps quicken each time he spoke his words, and he never understood why. The front of his foot nearly made contact with the obstacles on the street's path, and the cloak that covered half of his face wasn't helping to make the situation better— like Sonic was avoiding him.

"I can see why you're determined about this. If I were Maria I would have wanted something different too."

He could only nod, and made sure that it was apparent — if he opened his mouth to say something, he wouldn't have seen anything that was about to come in his direction. The process of focusing on the path and coming up with a suitable response can be challenging. Not to mention when the street bustles with passers-by and vendors at the same time.

Then, he sensed Sonic halting his steps — forcing Shadow to stop as well.

"I say we make it a public celebration this time. We can organize so many things at the same time outside."

"Like what?" he subtly whispered.

"Games, dancing, painting portraits of her... you know, that kind of stuff. You should consider hiring a painter to paint her or something," Sonic answered almost lazily, completely oblivious to the fact that the prince was never familiar with the commoners' kinds of celebrations.

"We don't usually hire painters."

"Oh? So why did I see so many paintings around the castle? It's like one of your staff always paints all the time and has so much time to do it. And it's always about scenery and flowers..."

Because I'm the one who does it all.

He hesitated for a while before answering — because if he said he paints, Sonic would have questioned him, interrogated him even, about what sorts of things he would see as something he would paint. Even worse, as Sonic is a part of someone in his life, he would have accidentally made a statement implying that he does portraits.

His possibility of a theory is that he could say something along the line like, 'Does that mean you can draw me?' or 'Oh, cool! Can I see them?'

Knowing Sonic, he would beg and whine continuously until defeated.

So, no. He couldn't tell him he's the artist.

As a result, the situation will become inhospitable if he does. They had both been in the room specialized primarily for the paintings of Sonic before. He could be thankful Sonic forgot about it, for now.

Inside he hoped to never activate the nerve of him to remember even a dust of forgotten memory when he responds. He thought about it in every route, perspective, angle, view, corner and in any way—

"Hey? Hey! Shad, you don't want me to call your name out loud here, do you?"

He had been spaced out for so long that he didn't even notice his shoulders were being shaken by Sonic, which snapped him out of reality. His eyes shot open to discover his nose nearly touching Sonic's; he stepped backwards immediately when he saw that emerald gaze piercing right into him.

Somehow, it felt like an arrow was shot through the left side of his chest — his heart beating so fast at the sudden contact. Despite clutching it close, it still throbbed.

"How much did you bring with you?"

Sonic asked, both hands defensively raised in the air at the same time in response to Shadow's reaction, his face as solemn as ever. It didn't help in any way for the prince to keep his image in place.

He cleared his throat to fill in the silence. "You mean gold?"

Sonic snapped his fingers. "Yep. We need a lot of funding and reservations to do so, so I doubt you have enough of them in your pocket."

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