The afternoon sun spilled across the pavement, casting long golden shadows that stretched like fingers across the sidewalk. Shadow stepped out of Northwood High, his backpack slung lazily over one shoulder, but his mind was far away—already spinning with code strings, upload schedules, and new content strategies for Fiction Zone.
The numbers were good—better than good. Forum chatter was spreading like wildfire, and even with the limited analytics tools of 2010, he could see the unmistakable trend: growth. Real momentum. It thrilled him and distracted him in equal measure.
So much so, that he didn't see the figure hurrying from the library doors until—
Crash.
A tangle of limbs. A flurry of notebooks. Pens clattered across the concrete, and a thick literature textbook thudded against his shoe.
"Oh! I'm so sorry!" he blurted, instantly crouching down, reaching for a scattered journal.
A familiar voice answered, breathy and kind.
"No, it's okay—my fault for rushing."
He froze.
That voice.
He looked up—and time stuttered.
Sarah.
Hair slightly tousled from the impact, cheeks flushed, her chestnut strands catching the sun like threads of copper. She blinked at him, surprised but not unfriendly, her expression softening into something warmly familiar.
"Shadow?" she said, her tone carrying that melodic lilt he remembered so well.
His name in her voice sent a shiver down his spine.
"I—yeah. I wasn't watching where I was going," he mumbled, still crouched, passing her a stack of books. His fingers brushed against hers—a faint spark, like static, but deeper. A phantom warmth that lingered longer than it should have.
She gave a small laugh, brushing her hair behind her ear. "Happens to the best of us."
He tried to smile, but the moment felt surreal. A thousand words surged in his chest, all the unsaid things from the years that never happened. But he forced them back. Now wasn't the time. Not yet.
"You okay?" he asked, clearing his throat.
"Yeah," she said, her smile more radiant than he remembered. "No injuries. Just a bruised ego."
They stood for a beat too long, the silence not uncomfortable, just... uncertain.
Shadow seized the moment, steering the conversation gently. "So... still speed-running the library in under thirty seconds?"
Her eyes sparkled with recognition. "Old habits die hard."
That was the in. That was his chance.
He shifted slightly, trying to sound casual. "Hey, speaking of books—there's this new site I came across. Kind of a hidden gem. Great stories, like, really different from anything else out there."
Sarah tilted her head, interested. "Oh yeah? What's it called?"
He kept his tone measured, even as something like victory danced behind his eyes. "Fiction Zone. Just launched, I think. It's... interesting. Worth checking out."
Her lips curved into a curious grin. "I'll have to look it up. Sounds cool."
He nodded. "Yeah. Let me know what you think. There's some good stuff."
They lingered a moment longer. Then, a group of students passed, laughing loudly, and the spell broke.
"Well," Sarah said, adjusting her books, "I should get going. Thanks for the rescue."
"Anytime," Shadow replied, hands in his pockets to hide the way they trembled slightly.
She turned to leave, and for a heartbeat, he considered calling her back. Saying something more. Telling her how he'd missed her laugh. Her smile. Her voice.
But he didn't.
Not yet.
As she disappeared into the drifting crowd, Shadow stood quietly, the hum of conversation and the warmth of the sun fading into background noise.
A simple moment. A collision of books and memories. But to him—it was seismic.
A beginning, not just for Fiction Zone, but for something far more delicate.
A second chance.
And this time, he wouldn't waste it.