Chapter Text
Metamorphosis
The strawberries glistened like rubies in the sunlight. Each bulb nestled snugly in a medley of berries, freshly picked and washed. The wicker basket emitted a sweet aroma.
Before the stone steps of the altar, a picnic blanket had been spread with its corners pinned down by small rocks.
A red echidna circled the setup.
He squatted and fixed a creased edge of the blanket.
He circled again.
He knelt down and twisted the basket a piddly ten degrees.
He stood and pondered.
Then, he shook his head and reverted the basket back to its original place.
He tore away from the scene. The sight of the Master Emerald assuaged him with the warmth of a parent’s touch. The way it shimmered against the cloudless sky was sure to please her.
Knuckles moved closer to the Emerald and placed a hand on its surface. Chaos energy purred. He closed his eyes to savour it.
For so long, the gemstone had been the only other warm body on Angel Island capable of communication. The powerful jewel carved its destiny for the sole Guardian, perched on its throne and immoveable. Its verdant peak was visible from all corners of the island, from the sullen banks to the dense forest trails, the Master Emerald watched over its Guardian in a symbiotic existence that as of late, had begun to tip. Instead of divining his destiny, the Emerald diverted the serendipities of life away and instead dumped an existence of burden and isolation onto the echidna. In the winter, the Master Emerald lost its lustre and took the form of a boulder instead. Then, after the Guardian’s birthday, it flung his and Rouge’s spirits into a whirlwind for a reason only it truly knows.
Today, the Emerald would be there to watch over his first meeting with her, and with hope, keep him from acting foolish.
The echidna opened his eyes, finding a tepid reflection nicked by fine, hairline fractures staring back at him. The warmth of Chaos embraced him.
The Master Emerald willed this into reality. It drew Rouge and I together. This is the path it wants me to take.
The Guardian’s wisdom fractured at the thought of the bat.
But to connect me with a jewel thief? Even I can’t understand that motivation.
He squinted at the basket of strawberries he spent the morning plucking from their vines. Their shimmering surface called her lips to mind; Knuckles hoped they’d be stretched into a smile once she saw the effort he put into their first meeting as a couple.
An item. A pair. Partners. The titles cascaded down an unending scroll. Knuckles fumbled after the imagined scroll and slammed it shut. His overactive imagination slipped out, calling to mind the memories he had been revisiting every night since it occurred.
She said I was her type. The first kiss we shared…
Knuckles squatted and covered his head. Hot steam escaped through the crevices of his mitts.
“Master Emerald, please watch over me—and don’t let me blow it!”
“Blow what?”
Knuckles sprung to his feet, shocked that the Master Emerald had developed a voice. His dreadlocks twisted like tassels as he scanned the perimeter.
A leathery flap cut through the air. Heels touched the ground behind him.
Knuckles creaked his neck around, his body following.
Having spent a couple of days apart to readjust to routine after their soul swapping fiasco, he struggled to believe the bat in front of him was the same bat from his memories. He lacked the ability to capture what he was feeling but when he remembered that Rouge was nocturnal, something like gratitude washed over him. In the sunlight, her white fur glowed angelic.
Comforting, teal-lidded eyes received him in full. In reaction to his undivided attention, they twinkled and relaxed. As she folded her wings away, she crossed one arm over her waist to support the other, resting a slender hand to her cheek.
Knuckles looked to his own dumbstruck legs, rigid as matchsticks.
Rouge glanced down at the picnic setup and hid a smile.
“My, my, you went to some trouble for me, didn’t you?”
Knuckles tasted her voice like it was caramel. He secured his posture and pulled his chest back out.
“No trouble,” he turned his proud snout, rubbing away the leftover dirt on his mitts behind his back.
Rouge linked her arms and approached the blanket.
“Strawberries? Where’d you get them from?”
“I grow them here.”
“Really?”
The fissions running over his skin jolted him into action. He pinched two strawberries from the basket, placed one in Rouge’s hand and bit into the other.
“They’re really ripe. I only planted them last year.”
Knuckles watched, waiting for Rouge to experience the explosion of sweetness for herself.
She continued to stare down the sole berry. Her mouth pursed.
“I didn’t know the Guardian moonlighted as a farmer,” her fangs glimmered in a grin. She turned the strawberry point-up, smoothing it against her bottom lip. Her upper teeth grazed the tip in another quick smile.
Knuckles blinked.
Such a perfect strawberry resting beneath her nose and she still hasn’t tried it?
“I did wash them. I checked all of them for bugs. I only picked the best ones,” Knuckles cleared a space for her to sit down and join him.
Rouge folded her legs and shifted her weight on her arm. She twirled the strawberry against her lip.
“Ew. It’s better if you don’t bring bugs up, Red,” her tone was peppered with enough good humour to not hurt his feelings. Despite this, his expectant gaze hadn’t subsided.
Rouge sighed and drew the strawberry away. She put on a brave face to break the news.
“To tell the truth, I already ate before. I didn’t think you’d prepare anything like this.”
Knuckles looked away.
“Oh.”
He searched for more words, but they had all ran out on him.
Rouge cocked her head. She moved in closer and brought his brooding face up.
“Hey, I’ll take some home if you don’t mind,” she injected extra caramel into her tone, enough to carry Knuckles out of his brief stupor.
His muzzle regained a healthy colour, complimenting his cherry fur and needles. Every corner of his figure looked so toasty. The curve of his thickened arms beckoned for nuzzling. His veins burst with natural exuberance, alive with the vigour gained through industrious training.
Blush entered Rouge’s cheeks. She glanced elsewhere, hugging her knees.
Knuckles, meanwhile, sought to have his share of the berries. Unlike Rouge, he couldn’t pass up a fresh batch, no matter how full he was. Rouge was content with watching. She asked about his farm, given how excited he seemed about it.
“I was thinking of growing mangoes in the summer. I heard they’re pretty durable.”
Rouge rested her head on her fists, batting her lashes.
“Honestly, I’m surprised you eat anything other than grapes.”
“Har-har.” Knuckles snorted. His lips closed around a plump berry, “You can’t survive on one type of food.”
Ruby juice trailed from the corner of his mouth. He turned, licking it away before his mouth stretched into a smirk.
“Or do you think so? Miss Chai Latte.”
Rouge dragged her gaze back up to his eyes. In a delayed reaction, she scoffed and turned her nose up.
“You said you like them too!”
“I never said anything against them!” Knuckles laughed in tow.
Both frequencies of laughter sounded, not quite in synchronicity but it was a melody the Master Emerald quietly welcomed to the island nonetheless.