Between the [Shadow] and the Soul.

[Chloë Delacroix]

Leave it to Chloë to get herself in trouble her first day back in London.

List, list, list. For now, it was all Chloë could manage to do to think straight. To do: be social, get a job, get a place, return to normal. She frowned, chewing upon her chapped lips. Be social? That could go to the bottom. Wait, well, it could share a place with return to normal. It felt impossible. The Delacroix was hellbent on losing and miserable. She should’ve stayed in France. Cleo may have disliked her and her unsuccessful ways, but at least she wasn’t as alone as she was back in London.

Jobs: St. Mungo’s, obviously. Chloë lacked the general compassion held by most mediwitches, but she had certainly improved. Perhaps the small girl just needed a specialty. Hmm, specialties: creature injuries, magical accidents, poisons and intensive care. No, no, no—wait a minute—Poisons? She could do that. She was certainly an expert at finding them and using them on others. Chloë could make antidotes too, right? Ha, sure you can. The voices in her head lingered with irritating accuracy.

Licentious Lane. Black hair like a wild lion’s mane sprung from the crown of her head and shielded her dark eyes from onlookers. It probably wasn’t a good idea for the 4’9 Delacroix to be wandering around with dark wizards, but frankly, nothing could make Chloë’s situation any worse than it already was. She sported a dark blue dress with black lace and detailing, she looked like an imp. Clearly up to no good. If only she knew what trouble she was to stir.

Fragile. It took everything in Chloë not to freak at every little touch from strange wizards who merely wanted to get past her. She walked too slow, nearly paralyzed in uncertainty. She stopped, leaning on the wall of some mysterious shop next to a dark alley. Voices all too similar to the one’s in her head whispering from it.

[Shadow LeonHeart]

Two years. It had been over two years since he had been in London. Two years away from everything he knew and loved.

It felt weird to him to be back in London, almost like it was a dream. After traveling the world for so long he had forgotten what it was like to be around anything he was familiar with. But this was a welcome change for Shadow. He missed the familiar faces, the scenery. The sight of all of this used to bother the former Mihael to no end. It seemed like the most beautiful place ever after two years of being gone.

Black hair blowing in the wind, Shadow stood around trying to think of exactly where he was going to go. There was the park, but Shadow wasn't ready to go back there yet. Licentious Lane. If he wanted to become reacquainted with the area again, that was the perfect place to start. It was always one of his favorite places to be, despite the fact that he's not a dark wizard. He just fit in with them for some reason.

It should be no surprise that Shadow wore his typical black shorts and muscle shirt. A notable change in his appearance other than his shorter hair was his lack of tattoos. His tattoos reminded him of his past, something he didn't want to remember when he was traveling the world. So he decided to get them removed. The scars that showed up after the removal bothered him every day, but not having to be reminded of his old life made him kind of happy.

"Nothing's changed." It was true. Everything was the same. A bit of a let down. Planning on making this a quick trip, Shadow quickened his pace so he can see everything and leave. But something caught his eyes. A dress. Dresses weren't very common in this area. After taking his focus off of the scenery, the 22 year old looked at the person wearing the dress. Chloe.

It had been years since he last saw her. He abandoned everyone without telling them and it killed him every day. Maybe this was his chance to start to make things right. Slowly making his way over to where she was standing, Shadow stopped in front of her. Words just weren't coming to him. He wasn't sure if she should say hi or apologize for leaving. Maybe standing there awkwardly would somehow start a conversation.

[Chloë Delacroix]

In a rather pathetic attempt to ease her mind, Chloë closed her eyes. Focus, Chloë. She couldn’t tell if it was herself or the voices within herself instructing her, but whoever it was, they were right. She needed to focus in order to calm down. She listened to the sounds surrounding her, the footsteps and small talk, creaking doors and the voices. They were so similar. Would her own mind play tricks on her like that? Of course it would, but the petite Delacroix was dying for some sanity.

At least just enough to keep her on her feet?

Breathe, Chloë. Right, breathe. She inhaled slowly and as she exhaled she opened her eyes. All oxygen cut off. She gasped, but no noise came out. Fear was all that was left when she realized someone had been standing in front of her. Chloë was an idiot. How could she let her guard down? Too distracted by the damned voices she hadn’t even realized anyone had approached her. Her hands pressed tight against the wall behind her, pulling her back closer in her terrified state. Yet something familiar lingered in the presence before her.

She swallowed hard before finally taking the time to look at who was standing in front of her. He was tall, her eyes leveled near his elbow. Scarred, yet there was a pattern to them. Her black eyes peered up, hidden beneath her hair. It took everything not to gasp again. Shadow? No, it’s not Shadow. It couldn’t be. It certainly looks like him. No, no, no. Shadow left. Besides he’s covered in tattoos. You’re an idiot, Chloë. She wanted to scowl, but whoever it was needn’t know she had to debate every issue internally.

Suck it up, Chloë. She chewed at her lip hesitantly before giving in. She lifted a hand off the wall to brush her hair out of her face to get a better look. She gasped, they were right. “Sh-Shadow?” The Delacroix hesitated, her head tilting to the side. Even her best attempts to hide her fear showed she was a mess. Her ears perked as everything seemed to silence around her, she had to resist her urge to look down the alley. Yet her eyes darted in fear back and forth between Shadow and the alley.

[Shadow LeonHeart]

It wasn't easy for the man. Two years of no contact with his old friends made it insanely difficult to even attempt to think of what to say to them. A day never went by without Shadow thinking of what he'd say to his friends when he returned. What could he really say to make it okay that he disappeared without letting them know what was going on? Even with the chance to make things right again right in front of him, he just couldn't think of what to say.

Standing there for what felt like an eternity, the old ninja wondered if Chloe would even acknowledge that he was there. Or maybe she wouldn't recognize him. That was something that he was afraid of. He didn't look the same as he did when he left. But if anyone would recognize him it'd be Chloe.

"Sh-Shadow?"

Hearing his name startled him. No one had called him by his name in over two years since no one around the world knew who he was. As much as it scared him, it was a relief to know that he wasn't forgotten.

"I...I'm sorry, Chloe." That was all he could say. And it was the hardest thing for him to say. Shadow had to show that he was truly sorry, but it was proving to be more of a challenge than he thought. Trying to find more words to say, tears formed in his eyes. Shadow was never one to cry, which caused him to quickly wipe away the tears. Being weak wasn't an option. The only option was to be strong and hope that Chloe would be able to forgive him.

[Chloë Delacroix]

She winced seeing the startled look form upon his face. Maybe she was wrong; she lowered her head letting her hair shield her eyes once more. Unfortunately she was trapped between him, the wall and the alley. There was no escape of what had become of Chloë’s nonsense. But the Delacroix’s attempt at making escape plans were interrupted by his voice. I told you. The voices were right and ringing true was her name in Shadow’s voice. It was painful and bittersweet.

She chewed at her lip nervously, it was a little unreal. So few ever seemed to come back, Chloë wasn’t entirely sure what in her insisted she returned, and to see Shadow seemed impossible. Yet there was no doubt that it was definitely him standing in front of her. Something, probably the voices, told her that he felt horrible for leaving. But Chloë could sense it and like waves of emotions always hit girls, she was no exception.

Not allowing herself the time to consider her actions, her hands retracted from the wall and her arms extended to hug him tightly. The distantly familiar feeling left Chloë uncomfortable, however, and the fear of being rejected had her ready to recoil and surrender to the voices in the alley. “I left too,” Chloë’s words were a horrible attempt at being reassuring to his apology. They were soft and nearly lost in translation from her head to her lips.

Hesitant and torn by fear, the petite girl returned to the wall. The taste of regret filled her mouth as she looked down at her shoes. She was a terrible person, an awful friend, a monster. Part of her wanted to hug him again; the other was desperate to escape in fear that he was already aware of her mental monster and she’d suffer for it. Surely most of it was the Delacroix’s wicked imagination, but the reality remained. Chloë had become terrified of even her closest friends in her time gone. If anyone needed to apologize, it was her.