Chapter Text
The universe is a beautifully fickle thing. Nothing is ever constant, except for the swirling, changing nature of itself. Colours intermingle, weaving together stars and galaxies that melt and shift against one another. In the centre of it all was A. At least, that's what Shulk saw when he looked into those eyes. Perhaps to some A was intimidating - the act of perceiving the very essence of being made people shy away. But not Shulk. Shulk found A captivating. A was fate itself, and Shulk had been inextricably connected to fate since the day he'd been born.
A was everything, everywhere, all at once.
A's reappearance had brought a wave of relief, but at the same time, Shulk knew with an intuition that had never left him that this marked the beginning of the end. He wasn't even sure what had changed, exactly. It was a slight shift, a niggling in the back of his mind that told him he didn't have much time to savour this. This, in turn, made his time that much more important, casting a somber attitude across everything he did. When he looked at the group of people he was with right now, sitting around a campfire at the back of Colony 9 with flasks of hot cocoa, Shulk had the strangest of feelings. He knew, somehow, that this group of people, as they were now, would perhaps never be united in this way again. That this feeling of belonging so warmly would soon fade away, even if he didn't understand exactly how that would come to be. The thought makes a solemn smile pull at the corners of his lips as he swirls his cocoa in the mug, studying each of his friends carefully in the low light.
Matthew, a big dumb grin plastered to his face as he pesters Glimmer, leaning over to slap a hand onto her shoulder as she pretends to ignore him with a deep breath and closed eyes - but Shulk can see the beginnings of a smile on her face regardless. Rex, clearly with something stronger than cocoa in his system, talking animatedly to Nikol about some adventure he'd had back on Alrest - and Nikol, wide-eyed and soaking in his every word with his mouth agape in interest. A, sat on the opposite end of the campfire to him, leaning forward to stoke the fire with one hand while A cradles the flask in the other. As A leans forward, brushing the fringe from A's forehead, their eyes meet over the soft glow of the fire - and Shulk can't help but smile. It's then that he understands that his time here is more precious than he could ever put into words - and he knows he must spend it wisely while he still can.