Chasing Shadows

Chapter Forty-Nine: From the Shadows

The city's neon lights cast a fractured glow on the rain-slicked streets, refracting through puddles in brilliant shades of blue, green, and pink. The bustling sounds of nightlife-the honking of cars, the murmur of conversation, the occasional distant shout-filled the air, blending into a symphony of urban chaos. It was a scene Ethan used to know intimately, the world he'd patrolled alongside Zane so many times before everything had fallen apart.

Now, the city felt different-colder, emptier. Like a ghost of the place he used to love.

Ethan tugged his hood tighter over his head, his gaze darting from shadow to shadow as he walked down a narrow alleyway. He knew it was futile to be out here, searching blindly. Zane had always been the one who knew where to find him, who seemed to appear out of nowhere just when Ethan needed him most. But this time, Zane was nowhere to be found.

He's not coming back, Ethan thought, his chest tightening painfully. The realization sank deeper with every empty street, every abandoned corner he turned. *He's already gone.*

It used to be so different. Back then, Zane had been the one trailing after him, always a step behind or a shadow at his side. There was never a moment when Ethan felt truly alone-he'd always known that if he turned around, he'd catch a glimpse of Zane's dark silhouette watching over him, making sure he was okay.

Now, the roles were reversed, and Ethan hated it. He hated how he was the one searching, the one looking over his shoulder in the hopes of finding a trace of the person who'd always been there before. But the city seemed determined to keep them apart, its vast expanse mocking his efforts.

"Dammit, Zane," Ethan muttered under his breath, his voice swallowed up by the night. "Where are you?"

He knew, deep down, that Zane wasn't hiding. Not from him. No, Zane was probably moving on, finding new places, new people. He was distancing himself, not out of fear, but out of necessity. Ethan had seen the look in his eyes that last night, the way Zane had hesitated at the door as if he wanted to say something but couldn't bring himself to speak.

It was the same look Ethan used to have-when he'd waited, time and again, for Zane to come back to him. But now, Zane had turned away, closing a door Ethan couldn't open on his own.

And yet, here he was, wandering through the city like a fool, still hoping for a chance to catch sight of him.

Ethan turned down another alley, his heart sinking further as he took in the empty street. Nothing. No sign of Zane. Just more darkness and the ever-present hum of the city. He leaned against the wall, the rough brick cool and damp against his back, and let out a shaky breath.

"Guess you're not coming back for me this time," he whispered, the words bitter and hollow.

But as much as it hurt, Ethan couldn't stop himself. Couldn't stop searching, couldn't stop wanting-needing-to find Zane. Because this time, it was his turn to be there, to show Zane that he wasn't alone, that someone still cared. But it felt like he was grasping at smoke, chasing a shadow that had long since slipped through his fingers.

He closed his eyes, letting the memory of Zane's voice wash over him. All the times Zane had called his name softly, or teased him about something stupid, or murmured a quiet "Be careful" before they parted ways.

He wanted to hear it again. Just once more.

---

Somewhere across the city, Zane sat in a dimly lit bar, the low hum of conversation blending into a comforting white noise around him. He nursed a drink he had no intention of finishing, his gaze distant as he watched the play of shadows on the wall.