Underneath the Silhouette
Chapter 101: Is This Even Shade?

Chapter 101: Is This Even Shade?

The cool, almost biting air of the hallway offered little comfort. As soon as the final echo of the latch faded, Eirin’s knees buckled beneath her. Her hand flew to her mouth, fingers pressed hard against her lips, stifling a desperate, guttural gag. The bitter aftertaste of the tea, that noxious brew, clung to her tongue.

’What kind of tea was that?’ Eirin wondered, her mind reeling, consumed by the burning sensation in her throat and the violent clenching of her stomach. She braced herself against the cool wall, desperately trying to hold back the tide of nausea, to prevent the humiliating act of vomiting right into the pristine, polished hallway.

"Hey, what’s wrong with you?"

Shade’s voice, rough around the edges yet surprisingly laced with genuine concern, cut through the dizzying fog in her mind. Eirin turned her head slowly, blinking, her vision blurring at the edges. He stood a few feet away, his brow furrowed, his dark eyes fixed on her with an unusual intensity.

The directness of his question, and the faint worry in his tone, was so unexpected, so unlike the Shade Cromwell she knew, that Eirin felt a jolt of confusion, a new layer to her disorientation amidst her acute physical distress.

"What’s wrong with you?" Eirin managed to turn the question around, her voice a strained, reedy croak, thin as a ghost’s whisper. Her face, she knew, must be pasty, paler than a sheet of freshly bleached parchment, reflecting the sickly pallor of her churning stomach. A low, ominous growl rumbled deep within her gut, a sound that seemed to echo in the silent, gleaming corridor.

The young man raised a brow, a flicker of his usual disdain returning, though it seemed tempered, almost hesitant, as if even his innate rudeness was affected by the situation.

"You look like a struggling dog," he said, his lips curling in a faint, familiar sneer.

The words, so reminiscent of their barbed exchanges, of that one time they’d fought in the dusty training field during Eirin’s turbulent first week at the Academy, brought a strange, almost comforting sense of familiarity. It was a known jab, a small anchor in a sea of unsettling change.

"And here I thought you were being worried—guess I was deluding myself," Eirin whispered, the words coated with disappointment, her voice barely audible above the persistent ringing in her ears, the dull ache behind her eyes.

Shade said nothing for a long moment, simply watched her, his expression a complex tapestry of unreadable thoughts. Then, with a suddenness that made Eirin flinch, he moved. He knelt in front of her, his tall frame folding with surprising grace, and presented his back, broad and solid.

"Get on. I’ll carry you," he said out of the blue, his voice devoid of humor, completely serious, causing the teenage girl to scowl despite her lingering nausea. The offer was so out of character, so helpful, so selfless, it took her aback. This was not the boy who once delighted in her misery.

"Are you stupid?" Eirin didn’t realize until the words, sharp with displeasure, left her mouth that she was sounding exactly like Shade Cromwell himself. The thought was jarring. "If I got on your back and my stomach gets shaken, I might throw up right at you."

The young man looked behind him, his dark eyes meeting hers, unfazed by her outburst, by the threat of his own humiliation. "So?" His single word hung in the air, a nonchalant challenge. It didn’t make any sense to the teenage girl.

Was this truly the Shade Cromwell that Eirin knew, the one who obsessed over appearances and avoided physical contact at all costs? The nymph’s transformation had clearly done more than just alter his body; it had left an imprint on his very being, on his core.

A glint of genuine appreciation, mixed with persistent disbelief, warmed Eirin, a tiny ember in her cold, nauseous core. "I appreciate the offer, but I have to refuse."

Shade rose to his feet in a fluid motion, then leaned in close to Eirin’s face, so close she could feel the faint warmth of his breath, the subtle fresh scent that always clung to him. The sudden proximity caused the teenage girl to freeze, her breath catching in her throat, a reminder of their accidental kiss just hours before.

Eirin’s heart gave a sudden, hard thump against her ribs, a frantic hummingbird trapped in her chest. Instinctively, she placed both hands on his chest, palms flat against the soft material of his uniform, and pushed him away, a surge of adrenaline momentarily overriding her nausea.

"Could you stop leaning into my face like that?" she demanded, her voice strained, her embarrassment spiking.

Shade shrugged, a faint, almost unnoticeable smirk playing on his lips, a familiar, teasing glint in his eyes. "Yeah, I won’t do it again. Your breath stinks."

Eirin’s mouth hung open, a comical sight of utter shock. She blinked thousands of times, her mind struggling to process his blunt, Shade-like, yet still greatly unexpected honesty. Her face turned a furious shade of red, a sudden, mortifying heat creeping up her neck and ears.

Eirin quickly breathed into her head, which was still half-covering her mouth, desperate to verify this outrageous claim. A groan of pure embarrassment escaped her lips. He was right. It was indeed stinky, a potent mix of the bitter tea’s lingering chemical scent and something vaguely metallic.

"You leaned forward just to check how my breath smells?" Eirin said, her words muffled by her hand still clamped over her mouth, embarrassed by the undeniable stinkiness. The audacity of him!

Shade shrugged again, unrepentant. He reached out and, with a surprisingly gentle touch that belied his rough exterior, took Eirin by her sleeve. "I guess; you could say that." There was a subtle glint in his dark eyes, almost mischievous, a hint of amusement at her expense, but it felt different, less cruel, more... playful.

Eirin’s forehead creased with the unusual action from the young man. His touch was light, almost a guiding gesture, rather than his usual rough shove. Her confusion deepened after noticing that he wasn’t wearing his usual black leather gloves, the ones he almost never removed. His bare fingers, long and strong, felt surprisingly warm against her sleeve.

’Oh, maybe because he just got back to his normal body,’ she thought, trying to rationalize the oddity, shrugging the thought off her head, but it clung like the bitter taste in her mouth. The logical part of her brain tried to reconcile this new Shade with the old, even as the illogical part screamed that this was wrong. This was not the Shade Cromwell she knew.

The two continued walking down the echoing hallway, a strange, unusual silence surrounding them, broken only by the soft scuff of their shoes on the polished floor. It was a stark contrast to their usual arguments, the constant verbal sparring that characterized their every interaction.

Eirin kept glancing at Shade from the corner of her eye, observing him, trying to decipher his altered demeanor. He wasn’t his usual grumpy and rude self; he wasn’t even saying anything, except for that earlier, oddly concerned comment, and the blunt remark about her breath. He simply walked beside her, his presence a quiet, unsettling mark.

’Did the curse really play with his brain?’ those thoughts lingered inside Eirin’s head, a persistent whisper of doubt. ’Is he even the same Shade Cromwell, or is this some lingering side effect, some residual magic?’ The question hung heavy in her mind, a new layer of mystery added to the already complex saga of Shade and his transformation.

They walked for what felt like an eternity, past empty classrooms whose windows reflected the soft afternoon light in shimmering panes, past silent common areas that usually buzzed with student chatter, until they reached the front gate of the female dormitories. The silence between them wasn’t awkward, but rather a quiet, watchful truce, a shared space of unspoken thoughts, a strange, developing connection forged in the crucible of chaos.

Just as Eirin was about to push open the dormitory gate, Shade stopped abruptly, his body tensing, causing Eirin to halt as well, turning to look at him. Shade looked behind, his head snapping around in a frantic manner, his eyes wide and sweeping the empty hallway. He seemed to be searching for something, or someone, his posture tense, almost as if he sensed an unseen presence, a lingering shadow.

Shade’s sudden alarm made Eirin look in the same direction, scanning the shadows that stretched long and distorted down the corridor, but she saw nothing. The corridor remained empty, stretching into the distance, eerily quiet.

"What’s wrong?" Eirin asked, her voice hushed, instinctively mimicking his sudden tension, a small prickle of fear running down her spine.

"Nothing."

This was the first time the two of them had walked side by side without bickering the entire time, without exchanging insults.

Shade, the notoriously grumpy and rude Shade, was no himself. He wasn’t even saying anything except earlier when he called Eirin a dog—a comment that, oddly, now felt like a relic of a past life.

Shade turned back to Eirin, his intense gaze softening almost unnoticeable, a fleeting moment of something akin to vulnerability. "Come to the back of the library tomorrow. If you want to train." The words were delivered casually, almost a throwaway line, yet they held an immense weight, a clear invitation. He didn’t wait for her answer, didn’t linger, simply turned and walked away.

"So he’s not going back to the dormitory? Why did he even come here then?" Eirin muttered as she watched Shade’s figure retreat down the long hallway, eventually disappearing around a bend. She stood by the dormitory gate, clutching the metal bars, wondering if the young man had truly walked all that way just to accompany her back.

The thought was absurd, given his usual disdain for her, yet... the unusual concern in his eyes, the gentle touch on her sleeve, the offer to carry her. These moments chipped away at her preconceived notions of him.

"No way, right?" Eirin whispered to herself, shaking her head, trying to dispel the strange, fluttering sensation in her chest.