Shadow

It was hard being Shadow. She spent most of her time sitting in a small office the size of a closet. It had a chair, it had an overhead light, it had a monitor where she could read her emails without having to resort to her phone or an AR overlay with her visual augments. It probably was a closet, knowing Eremiyah. He rarely left Araiguma HQ, and because of that, she rarely left Araiguma HQ. So all she had to do with her time was sit in a closet and watch cat videos on a glowing monitor.

For a while, she'd go to the shooting range, but it stopped being fun when she realized she never missed the target. She went to the dojo to spar with the other bodyguards, but nobody wanted to spar with her after a while, as she always won. Back in her closet, she read an article about big rats and little rats, and how if, when the big rats played with the little rats, the big rats didn't let the little rats win at least 30% of the time, the little rats wouldn't want to play with the big rats any longer. She switched over to another cat video.

Sure, lately, he had been going out more, which meant that she could go out more. The breath of fresh air versus whatever counted for air inside the HQ was a light on Shadow's dim days. He'd taken her as his plus one to the opera once, and that was interesting. It wasn't a cat video, but it was still something, sitting in a soft chair, listening to people sing unintelligible words in a language she didn't understand, while the subtitles danced along the bottom of her AR FOV.

Then there was the cooking class. They made some pasta dish together, linguini franca or something like that, and she realized that she loved to smash garlic. He picked a stray basil leaf from her hair and it made her heart do something it had never done before. That was marginally better than a cat video. Maybe as good as five kitten videos.

But he never included her on his personal stuff. He never introduced her to his family. She wasn't really sure if he was supposed to, as the handbook wasn't clear where the boundaries were, especially with someone like Eremiyah. Most recently, for his nephew's birthday party, he had told her to check their coats, and by the time she returned to the lobby, he was gone. Later, he found her sitting in a chair in the corner of the lobby watching cat videos on her visual augments. He was wearing a different coat than the one he had asked her to check.

Another time, he sent her on a spree to hunt down some elusive Mexican candies. She had to visit about a dozen stores before she found something her autotranslator called “little drunks.” She also got a cat magazine, but aside from some new pictures, the articles were mostly the same as the one in the previous cat magazine Eremiyah had given her as a work anniversary present. She cut the pictures out and pasted them to the wall of her closet office. There was also a picture of her next to Eremiyah, and they were both smiling, probably about different things, but the two of them looked happy together, so she pasted that onto the wall next to all the cat pictures.

Whenever they were out, he did this odd thing with his pocket watch. It seemed to make time stop, and then, the next thing she realized, he was telling her it was time to head back to the office. Even without the watch, it felt like time could stop when she was out in the Real World with Eremiya.

In the morning, when she was running her laps, her mind was on Eremiyah, even though she was projecting cats running alongside her in her AR. In the afternoon, when she was eating lunch, she was thinking about him, even though she was projecting cats in the cafeteria sitting at the same table as her. Nobody sat by her, so she filled it with cats. She imagined it had something to do with the big rats and the little rats. Still, she liked the company of the virtual cats better. In her mind, she called it the cat-feteria.

In the evening, when she folded up the monitor and chair and pulled out the trundlebed, she thought about Eremiyah, even though cosmic cats danced on the ceiling above her. She looked at her cat pictures in the soft glow of the monitor, now turned to face toward the wall, as the blue light made it hard to sleep. She scanned the cat pictures. Rex, Manx, Russian Blue, Sphynx, Abyssinian, Hemingway, Tortoiseshell, Calico, Persian, Siamese, Maine Coon, Lykoi, Eremiya and Shadow. It was here that her gaze lingered as she drifted off to sleep.

Then she'd have dreams. Dreams where Eremiyah and she were cats. He was always leaping into danger and getting out by the tip of his tail before Shadow could even react. She followed after him while he did important things that only he seemed to understand. They sat beneath the Eventree and watched the birds fly and the samaras flutter to the ground, and his twitching tail touched hers. She leaned against him and purred.

In the morning she would wonder about these dreams. Wonder what they meant. She would try to talk about it with the other bodyguards, but they tended to avoid her until somebody told her that people who talked about their dreams were often the most insufferable people in the world.

Later, in the midst of a cat video binge, she thought about that. Was she insufferable? Is that why Eremiyah always abandoned her? Well, not always. There was the opera, and the cooking class, and even a museum once. She had liked the paintings with cats. But why did Eremiyah regularly disappear? She thought about asking him, but whenever he was around her, he looked at her with his intense eyes, and she could barely speak. She even found it hard to answer his questions.

“What did you think of the opera?”

Awkward pause. “It was good.”

“That's quite a magnificent painting, don't you think?”

Awkward pause. “Yes.”

“I think we need a little more garlic.”

Awkward pause. “Of course.”

He never got mad at her. Not even the one time he sent her on an errand to a chemical manufacturer to place an order, and she got sidetracked by a kitten on the street. She petted it, played with it, cuddled it, and didn't want to ever put it down. It was only when Eremiyah's other shadow, the one caused by him blocking out the light, occluded her that she realized she had lost track of the time. His expression was unreadable, but it wasn't cruel.

“What do you have there?”

Awkward pause. “A kitten.”

The kitten mewed.

“And what are you going to do with it?”

Awkward pause. “Can I keep it?”

He crossed his arms. He thought about this request. Then he shook his head. “Where would you keep it?”

Awkward pause. “In my office.”

“You know you can't do that. You're just going to have to leave it here.”

She looked at the kitten. It started purring.

She looked up at Eremiyah, then looked away as his gaze was so intense, like looking directly at the sun that was behind him. “Can you take it home?”

He shook his head. “I'm never home. You know that.”

Can you take us both home, then, she wanted to ask. I'll take care of it there. It'll be okay.

His unreadable expression softened. “Tell you what,” he said. “I'll find someone to take care of the kitten. How does that sound?”

There was a lump in her throat. “Yes.”

He motioned for her to follow him. She stood, still holding the kitten. “Come along,” he said.

They made their way down a maze of streets and alleys until he came to a single door in a wall. He knocked a special knock. A woman with wild, multicolored glowing hair opened the door. “Jeremy?” she said in a hushed voice.

He raised a finger to his lips. “Shush now, Cammy,” he said. “I have a special request for you.” He pointed to Shadow and the cat she held.

Cammy looked at the woman, her eyebrows arched, then at the cat.

“I want you to take care of this cat for my friend here. She can't take care of it on her own. She cares about it, and I care about her, so I owe it to her to find a good place for it.”

Shadow reluctantly held out the kitten. Without leaving the doorway, Cammy took it, looked at it and brought it into her home. She lingered in the doorway for a moment. “Can't you stay a while?” she said.

Eremiyah laughed. “I'd love to, but I have business to attend to.” He gave a short bow. “Oh, and Cammy,” he said.

An awkward pause. “Yes?”

“If you see my brother, don't tell him about this, okay?”

She nodded. “Of course.” She lingered for a moment longer. “It was nice seeing you again.”

“As you,” he said.

She closed the door gently, almost reluctantly. Eremiyah and his Shadow stepped out onto the sidewalk. He looked at her. “I'm very disappointed in you,” he said. He didn't sound disappointed.

Awkward pause. “I'm sorry.”

“It's fine,” he said. “We’ll try again tomorrow.”

That was so long ago. She lay there, looking at the picture on her wall, the phantom itches of fleabites returning to her memory.

She didn't often look in mirrors, so seeing the picture of herself looked strange at first. But now that she looked at it, studied it, maybe it was the dim light of the closet, maybe it was her imagination, or maybe it was just whatever dream chemicals the brain starts to make as you slowly drift asleep, but she thought that if she changed her hair to be shorter, and more colorful, and glowing, she might actually look a lot like that Cammy woman. Almost her twin.

Her last thought before sleep found her was: I hope that kitten is happy.