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THIRTEEN
Ice
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SHADOW'S LIPS WERE BURNING. He liked the way Rouge tasted, though the poor ignorant thing didn't know what it meant—not yet. His bare fingers hovered at his mouth, watching her walk away, stunned. Tears had the audacity to shed but he wiped them furiously away with a very large sleeve.

She kissed him. What did it mean? He searched his memories, digging deep for the answer. Soon he recalled one of many stories Okaasama told to him at bedtime, the one about the fairy boy, his true love, and the pirates.

. . . And then she gave the fairy boy her kiss. She had sighed almost dreamily beside him in bed, smiling at the ceiling.

What is a kiss? he had asked of her.

She had pointed to the right corner of her lips, touching it softly with her fingers. It's sacred, she said. It belongs to your one true love and to them only. I believe it is a symbol of freedom—the part of you entirely reserved for the one who has your heart.

You have my kiss, Terios.

He remembered feeling so sad, sad that he could not return the kiss, could not give her his heart. He had told her regretfully, But I am not human.

She had whispered so softly in his ear, so secret, holding his hand with much tenderness. She had traced the scarlet lines of his birthmark. There are many types of love, just as there are many colours in a rainbow. Human or no.

Shadow jolted, jumped right to his feet. His fingers touched the right corner of his lips, feeling the burn. He now understood. The kiss meant You have all my love, I am yours. A kiss is sacred. Treasured. And Rouge wanted him to have hers. She wanted him to have her kiss; not the kiss of romance but the mother's kiss, as he had called her. Okaasama, Mother—for she had mothered him, raised him, taught him, loved him. .

His heart began to pound, for he wasn't certain how he felt; this was all entirely new. Uncharted lands. He feared he was too broken, too ignorant, unworthy of Rouge's heart. He didn't wish to break it—he would never, if he could help it.

Shadow lingered a while longer in the living room, still touching his lips, still stunned. A moment passed. With a deep breath he put it behind him, knowing death loomed over them all, and followed Rouge outside. He offered her his elbow, she took it, and they teleported to Iceland.

⋆ ═══ ★ ═══ ⋆

Snow was something new, white and bright and beautiful. Shadow kicked fresh powder up and about. It was plain and pristine—and so very cold—but he liked it. He kicked and stomped like a little kid, Rouge still linked his arm, smiling all the way.

"It smells like water," he said. "But water has no scent. Does that sound silly?"

Rouge had smiled, shaking her head. "Not silly at all."

He pranced about for a bit, his breath smoking in the icy air, cheeks burning with the cold. When he settled, satisfied with his fill of Earth's wonders, he peered into the distance. His right ear flicked as if listening.

"How will we ever find the last Emerald in this mess?" asked Rouge. Her breath was a thick plume.

Shadow patted her hand, then held out his own, eyes closed. After a pause, he whispered, "Come to me."

Out of nowhere the red Emerald burst from the snow in the great distance and zipped right in his hand like a boomerang returning, like magnets attaching. It came in a flash, startling Rouge.

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