On the day before her eighteenth birthday, Shego spends far, far longer than she'd ever admit waiting for her journal to appear. She sits, cross legged, on her bed. Staring at her desk. What will it look like? I wonder if they already have theirs. I hope they do, I'd hate to be the one to get it first. The clock strikes midnight and a small, simple leather bound journal appears on her desk. Accompanying it is a silver pen, a silver ring emblazoned with a floral pattern, and a small notecard containing an explanation.

Your Soul Book and You:

When you write in the book with the pen provided, it will be instantly readable by your soulmate! The pen can also be used to erase old marks, should the book begin to run out of space (it shouldn't, there are hundreds of thousands of pages - magic is convenient)!

The ring will vibrate softly when your soulmate writes in their journal. We recommend wearing it at all times, just in case.

Your book can never be lost or destroyed. You could hide it if you chose.

If you have received this book, you definitely have a soulmate. We cannot guarantee that they will match your expectations, but we can be absolutely certain you will fit together perfectly. If nobody responds when you write, consider that your soulmate may not have received their book yet!

The initials and date on the front cover of the book are the first and last preferred name of your soulmate, not their legal name. The date is the month and day of their birth. The year would be too easy!

Your book is totally private, and saves itself! Only you and your soulmate can read it, and if you lose or destroy it somehow (accidents happen!), the replacement will be exactly the same - down to the dog-eared pages!

After spending several minutes fidgeting with the book, too nervous to open it, she slipped on the ring and decided to go to sleep. I'll write to them first thing in the morning. Shego slept comfortably, though she found it took longer than normal to actually fall asleep. She kept twisting her ring, hoping that it would buzz and alert her to her soulmate.

The sharp trilling of her alarm clock woke her suddenly, ripping her from a wonderful dream - wherein she had been kicking the shit out of an annoying kid from her senior year of high school. She sighed, sitting up, and stretched to crack her back and shoulders. Immediately, her mind jumped to her book. Right, I should at least see what their initials and birthday are.

The inside of the front cover is an off-white background, an orange floral pattern sprouting randomly across the page. In silvered, flowing calligraphy, the letters KP sit cleanly at the center of the page. Just under it, in the same script, 6/7 .

KP, June seventh. Weird. Don't know anybody like that. She flipped to the first page, looking into the off-white emptiness it contained. Guess I really am first. I figured, when they didn't write anything last night. Still... Shego flinched, her emergency alarm going off. She grabbed whatever piece of clothing was near - a green t-shirt - and flung it with enough force to knock the thing off the desk and deaden the sound.

Carefully, she lifted her pen and began to write.

6/14/2010

Is it against the rules to tell you my name? I don't even know if there are any rules. I won't tell you, just in case. I just turned eighteen - it's my birthday today. But I guess you knew that? Haha, that's weird. Honestly, it's a bit lonely to be the first one to get my book. I'm not good at the whole 'people' thing, so I was hoping you'd be able to pull me out of my shell.

Sorry I missed your birthday, by the way. I'll make sure to write one every year from here on. It's weird to say that - I never thought I'd be the kind of girl to be obsessed with her book. I haven't stopped thinking about it since it showed up.

I should tell you some stuff about myself, right? I currently do MMA as a hobby, just to keep myself in shape. You won't have to worry about me getting into any trophy fights and getting injured like in the movies. I'm just about to head into college - I'm thinking about teaching something like advanced sciences or maths. I haven't decided yet, but I have a good head for physics.

Why do I want to teach if I'm bad with people? I'm really not sure - something about it inspires me, though. Maybe the idea that I can be better for those kids than my parents were for me? Something like that.

Oh yeah, I don't really have a good relationship with my family, on account of being super gay. In fact, they're gonna be kicking me out tomorrow - I've had a job for a while in preparation, so I should be fine. Still, the degree is gonna be hard to get. I'll make it work. Scholarships are good shit.

Alright, I gotta go to my last day of classes. I'll write to you again tonight, before I go to sleep.

Her parents see her ring on her way out the door. Her mom pipes up first. "So? What's it like?" Shego grimaces.

"She hasn't gotten hers yet."

"Why do you assume it's a girl-"

"Because I like women, mom. Just cuz I have a fancy book now doesn't mean I'm suddenly down for dick." With that, Shego storms out the door and slams it behind her.

When she returns home, her parents are gone. Quickly, she rushes to write.

Fuck school, fuck my parents, oh my god. It's okay, though. I finished packing the shit my parents are letting me keep. Tomorrow I'm a free gal. Get to go to my apartment and put pride flags on every fucking wall - that should ward away the 'rents.

I'm gonna try not to vent too much - would be hell opening this for the first time and finding some heavy shit immediately. Actually, I have to get up very early tomorrow, so I'm gonna go ahead and hit the hay.

G'night, KP. See you next year, I hope.

-SG

6/7/2011

Hey KP. It's been a long year, waiting. I wonder if you're reading this right now, or if you're sitting and staring at your book in panic like I did last year. I wonder if your ring is buzzing along on your finger, to each stroke of my pen?

I know I slowed down a bit, after the first few months. Sorry about that, it's just hard to talk into a void for very long, y'know? I know you're coming eventually. Hopefully this year.

Anyway, I am doing well in my classes and my scholarship is holding up so far. Years fly by at this point, I can't imagine it'll take long for me to be in front of a classroom. That's terrifying, if I'm honest. That said, I do have an exam tomorrow. Gonna go study and hit the hay. Write me back if you can yet, okay?

Happy birthday, and good night.

-SG

Shego's alarm startles her awake, like usual. She barely slept, of course - studying and writing and focusing so much on her ring were brutal on her mind. Eventually she had just passed out, only vaguely confident that she'd pass. Eh, one test won't kill me.

She gets up and checks her book. No response yet, huh? Fine, fine. I'll wait until tonight before I decide it's another year of waiting.

Her test goes amazingly well. My ring hasn't gone off all day. Her mood does not go amazingly well. Another year of loneliness? Everyone I know has rings, and they're always writing back and forth with theirs. Even when they're with each other.

When she returns to her apartment, she double checks to make sure. Yep, definitely where I left off. Quickly, she snatches her pen off the table.

6/8/2011

Hey KP, looks like another year of silence and waiting for me. Sorry to be a downer - but a year feels like a long time, even if the individual days fly by in a whir of studying and tests.

Speaking of tests, I'm pretty sure I fucking crushed the one I had today. I'll give the credit to you, clearly your birthday gives me luck.

G'night, KP

-SG

6/7/2012

Shit, I hope to whatever crazy fucks make these things that you're eighteen today. Someone in one of my classes called me a 'freak' today. Said my book was broken, cuz I hadn't heard back from you immediately. I know it's not true - my own parents were soulmates. They have a three year gap.

Does the length of the gap say something about how compatible you are? Does the further the book stretches to match you with someone mean that you're hard to match? Probably. Does it mean you're bad, somehow? I hope not.

Sorry, sorry. I know I sometimes use this place as like... a diary. But I want you to know about me, even the stuff I'm uncomfortable telling anyone. We should know each other better than anyone, right?

I had to quit my MMA classes. They were distracting me from my studies. It's not fun, y'know? Like... wrong, somehow. Like I should be fighting.

Well, I'm gonna go to bed, KP. Happy birthday

G'night.

-SG

By morning, her ring still hadn't moved. She felt a cold stone sink in her gut. Maybe it is broken.

6/7/2013

Surely it'll be this year, right? I know I don't write as much as I used to, but opening this book physically pains me. It's like... staring back at some kind of failure. Are you ignoring me? Did I do something wrong? Can the book match gay and straight people on accident? Are you one of those people who hid their book, hoping you'll run into me on accident?

God, I hope not. Those are terrifying thoughts. That somehow I've been talking to a void that will never respond. We could be on opposite sides of the world, y'know? Please, if you're there, answer me. Even just... a single letter. A small drawing. Wait, fuck, do you even speak English?

Slowly, tiredly, Shego got dressed. She went through the motions of the day - go to class, eat lunch, go to another class, come home. Through all of it, she focused so hard on her ring that she barely even paid attention to anything. Her friends - as few as there were - knew exactly what was happening. They offered words of comfort, gently explaining that "no, nothing is wrong with you" and "it's okay, waiting is part of the fun for some people, right?"

Shego didn't feel very comforted. By the time she had returned to her room, her ring sat as still and cold as it always did on her finger.

Wearily, she opens her book. Splotches of dark water stain it, she realizes she's crying.

My head hurts, and I'm scared. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't crying right now. Happy birthday.

G'night, KP

-SG

That night, Shego doesn't stop crying until she falls asleep. Maybe I'm broken.

6/7/2014

Somehow, I'm resigned to the fact that you may never respond. We may never meet. I checked, to make sure this is the right pen. I threw it in an industrial grinder. It reappeared back in my pocket, and I've kept careful track of which one it is. I know I'm right.

At this point I think I'd be more surprised if you did reply. Maybe I'd feel like someone's fucking with me? Probably. It's like the world is playing some cruel joke. "Let's see how long we can make her wait."

Part of me wants to say 'fuck it' to any rules that might exist - surely it'd censor my name if it didn't want you to know. It's magic, right?

Still, I won't give you my name. It's like... I feel like there's some taboo against it. Like if we don't find each other without it I'll have failed you somehow.

Today is an off day for me. I'll write all day, see how much I can fill up. Make your ring vibrate so much it drives you insane, if you did hide it.

Sorry.

Shego spends so long writing that her hand is cramping, the side of her palm is stained with black ink. Someone calls her, she answers reluctantly. It's her friend, concerned that they didn't see her today.

"I'm at home, I ate. I don't have any classes, don't worry."

They respond with concern.

"Yes, I'm fine. I promise. I'm writing to her right now."

Oh my gosh, did they finally reply?

The lie slips through her teeth before she can stop it. "Yes, finally." A cold shot of guilt runs through her. In my dreams.

Alright, I'm going to bed for the night. Happy birthday.

G'night, KP

-SG

6/7/2015

Five years, KP. It's been a long, long wait. I've never heard of anyone's going over five years before. (I've done a hell of a lot of digging.) Surely the age gap would be too big? It's... horrifying, honestly, to think of it going further. I would deal with it, if I had to, but... at this point, I'm worried you'll be one of my students. God, that'd be awkward.

It's weird, to miss someone you've never met. Never even talked to. I feel empty sometimes. Like... an important piece of me is being held just out of reach. It's terrible. The cosmic joke I wrote about last year is feeling more and more true.

Maybe the universe gave me a defective book. Maybe your birthday will be the day before I die? Or a week before my eightieth birthday. That seems about right for my luck, honestly.

Sorry, sorry. I don't want to burden you with this. At this point, I'll be 23 in a week. You're just a kid, right? Fuck, that's weird. I feel creepy. Gross.

I'm starting my job next year. I'll stay in school for a while, to get my master's. Make sure I have some security for the future.

I really, really hope you've answered by tomorrow. I don't know how I'll handle it if we're the first recorded case of a gap higher than 5 years.

I've gotta go to work. Happy birthday.

Talk to you later, KP.

-SG

Shego leaned back from her desk, put her hands to her face, and sighed deeply. Surely she'd have responded by now, right? I even waited until morning, this time. She'll be graduating high school. I wonder if they still let seniors out of school early? Probably.

Unable to deal with the stress of having it on, Shego left her ring beside the notebook and pen. Sorry, KP. I just can't cope with waiting for it to buzz.

By the time she returned home, late at night, it hadn't even moved. Opening the book revealed what she feared - another year of waiting. Angrily, she slammed her fist into the desk beside the book. "Fuck!"

She didn't sleep that night.

6/7/2016

I waited up til midnight because I wasn't sure if you would be awake or not. I think... I know, somehow, that you won't respond.

It's like something in my chest - tightness? That's telling me 'no, she won't be here this year, wait a bit longer'.

How much longer, KP?

How old are you right now?

I feel disgusting. If you're still not eighteen, then I'll be 25 by the time we even realistically meet - hell, I'll be 24 in a week. And, on top of all that, I'm just hoping beyond hope that this year is your seventeenth. It could be even longer - you may be like. Eight. Or something. You may not even be born.

I could be like fifty before we meet. I'm already nearing the end of my prime, y'know? It's not fair.

Angrily, Shego swipes a series of meaningless scratches across the page. Then, she takes a deep breath and forces herself not to erase them. She should at least know I have a temper.

Sorry. I'm just. It's been a bad year. Teaching kinda sucks. Like, it's fun, but there's so much work. I can barely afford to live by myself.

Still, happy birthday.

G'night, KP.

-SG

6/7/2017

My boss asked me if I was a pedophile today - if my soulmate is a child, somewhere. I didn't even know how to respond. He was basically accusing me of using my position to get close to young kids - I teach high school! What the fuck?

I can't say I don't wonder about the same thing, if I'm honest with myself. Why did the book match me with someone so much younger than me?

Still, I'm worried I broke it somehow. Like... me being me, I managed to ruin the universe's inscrutable plan. Sometimes I convince myself I'm definitely at fault.

I've never once blamed you. You're just a kid, right?

I'm sorry, KP. I don't have it in me to talk anymore, for tonight.

G'night.

-SG

6/8/2017

I fucked up, KP.

I forgot to say happy birthday. I'm sorry.

I... don't really know what to do.

G'night.

-SG

6/7/2018

I know I didn't write at all since last year, but can you really blame me? At this point, if you're close to eighteen, I've spent the majority of your life pining after you - someone I've never met. Someone way, way younger than me at that - nearly a decade.

Life has always been cruel to me, in a way. Be born gay and headstrong, with a ton of motivation and kickass attitude. Into a family that hates all of those things, especially the gay part. God, I can still remember my mom's face when I told her. I've never seen someone look so disgusted with their own kid.

"I want my soulmate to be a pretty girl!"

"You fucking what ?"

I haven't spoken to my family since I moved out, all those years ago. No point in dwelling on it, I guess. Sometimes, the wait makes me wonder if they're right. Like... what if it's because I'm gay that this happened?

That's not the answer, I know. I know gay soulmates - two of my teacher friends are.

Still, it keeps me up some nights.

Shego stopped, uncorked a bottle of wine. Tomorrow's Saturday. I can live a little. She poured a glass, knocked back most of it, went back to writing.

I wonder if you died.

If, when you were supposed to get your book, you died in the exact same moment. I doubt it. I'm sure the universe has contingencies for those things. Surely they'd at least take the book away?

I'm just going to keep rambling depressing things if I keep writing.

Sorry, KP. Happy birthday.

G'night

-SG

6/7/2019

Happy birthday, KP.

I'm sorry, I just don't have anything left to say.

G'night

-SG

Shego is gently roused from a peaceful slumber. Slowly, ever so slowly, her mind pieces together what's going on.

It's late. Very late. Her clock says four thirty, and the sun isn't up so that's likely AM.

She appears to have fallen asleep with her phone in her hand, if the vibrations are anything to go by. Wait, no. I can see my phone on the windowsill.

She shoots up faster than she ever has in her life, bounds across her room in two steps. Quietly, she can hear the sound of a pen scratching coming from inside her book.

It takes her nearly a full minute to gather the courage to open it.

Kim sits, cross legged, on her bed. Staring at her desk. The clock strikes midnight, and on the desk appears a small, black journal - emblazoned with silvery flames. Immediately, she jumps up and walks over to it. Not Ron? She sighs. That would've been a lot easier.

Never one for hesitation, the girl slides the ring - a small tungsten band with silver edging - over her finger, then picks up the silver pen. She ignores the notecard - so many of her friends have talked about how it works she has the damn thing memorized. The inside cover of the journal is simple, flat. On it lies an inscription is bold, slanted handwriting. SG. Then, under that, 6/14. Honestly, I'm not surprised I don't know who it is. Just disappointed.

She flips to the first page and is surprised to find a long note, writing similar to the print on the book. I wonder if theirs has something like my handwriting? Gently, she rubs a finger across the page. Unsurprisingly, the letters are not raised. Her eyes dart to the top, where the date it had been written was boldly slashed into the paper. 6/14/2010. Jesus! How old is this guy? Some math, double checking her math, and looking up an age calculator tells her that the man will be 28 this year. Oh. She fidgets uncomfortably, then forces herself to begin reading.

After several sentences, she pauses. I should get something to keep my thoughts on. If there are... ten years of notes, I want to make sure I can respond properly. She reaches over and grabs a notepad, starts reading from the beginning.

Her notetaking stops not too long into the letter. "I never thought I'd be the kind of girl-"

Girl? This is a woman? I'm... gay? Kim spends a good ten minutes thinking back on her life, her attempted relationship with Ron. I mean, I guess? I'd never really considered it. Dad's gonna flip.

When Kim reaches the end of the first letter, she pauses as a pang of guilt settles itself in her heart. "See you next year, I hope."

Under her breath, she says, "How long did you keep writing, SG?"

She turns the page, starts to read the next letter.

Kim can't help the small smile that grows across her face as she reads deeper into the notebook. Eventually, she arrives at her own next birthday. Again, the guilty feeling pervades her as she realizes just how long the books made SG wait for her.

The next time Kim reaches a birthday statement, the guilt spikes with increased intensity. As she goes further into the book, the notes have increased time between them. Less and less often, sometimes weeks between them. It must be hard, writing to nobody.

This time, only twenty notes reside between Kim and the next birthday message. The hopeful, almost pleading tone sends her heart into her stomach. It had to have been so lonely, watching everyone else get their responses first.

She resists the urge to write back just yet. Kim was never one to dive into something without at least something resembling a plan.

Seeing SG slowly morph from hope to desperation, then to hopeless is painful. Kim barely manages to hold back her tears, reading the long, long letter that was her unknown birthday gift in 2014. Why are the books so... cold? Cruel?

The five year note does finally make Kim cry, seeing SG blame herself for something the books caused. Several minutes pass before her eyes and heart are clear enough to continue.

Longer than anyone else up to that point, right? A quick google search confirms it. Longer than anyone else even now. I can't even imagine what she's going through tonight. Briefly, she pauses. I don't feel my ring vibrating. Is she asleep?

There are only seven notes until the 2016 note. The self-blame seems to have died off some, instead turning to... resentment? Kim shifts uncomfortably. Not mad at me, I hope...

"My boss asked me if I was a pedophile today..." Kim spends a good several minutes rereading that line over and over again. I can't believe this has caused her so much trouble... At least she seems to have kept her job.

The note dated for the next day surprises her. Oh, SG... you didn't need to apologize. It's okay. Mistakes happen.

The next note is the next year's birthday present. I guess she would've given up eventually, right? Nearly ten years waiting... Well, exactly ten years tonight, I suppose.

Again, Kim resists the urge to start writing. I will finish these notes.

The final letter is so short she almost flips past it. There's nothing left to say. It's okay.

Slowly, she begins drafting a letter of her own. Quickly, she glances up at her clock. Two in the morning...? I'll just have to sleep my Sunday away.

6/7/2020

Hey SG. You've been very patient for me. I'm sorry, really, that I made you wait so long. I read every single one of your messages, y'know. So at least you didn't waste that time entirely. I wanted to respond to them in order, as best as I can, anyway.

There are no rules, SG. I know it's scary, that you might get it taken away or something. I've asked my friends, they say it's okay. My name is Kim. I live in Middleton, and this coming Friday is my last day of high school. I'd love to meet by your birthday, if possible. As an apology of sorts.

I wish you had continued MMA - I would've loved to spar with you. I practice it myself, for the same reasons as you. That, and it's scary going out by yourself as a woman. Actually, speaking of that, I didn't know I was gay until I started reading your letters. It kinda felt... right, though. Maybe you're a special case? Who knows.

I wish I had been there to support you through your schooling. My 'birthday luck' (you're welcome for that) can't have been too reliable. Still, it is nice to know you continued to think about me for all those years, even without my direct (or indirect) presence.

I wanted to know, by the way, on your first letter, you seemed to be having a bad day. If you remember, I'd like to talk about it.

Several times you apologized for writing to me. I don't want to scold you, but don't do that again - I loved reading them. The idea that you were willing to 'let me in' (so to speak) is endearing.

You're not a freak, SG, nor are you a pedo, or anything else. You're just a girl, desperately wishing for love. I'm sorry everyone made it hard on you. I'm sorry I made it hard on you. I'm sorry I made you wait almost a decade since you got your book. I can't even imagine how hard that must've been.

Oh, and, if you would... I'd appreciate if you'd help me break the news to my parents. It's not going to go well. I don't know if it'll be as bad as yours, but... my dad is going to flip out.

I hope you haven't given up hope and stashed your stuff away somewhere. I hope you can hear the ring right now.

I hope I can relieve some of the suffering you've dealt with, these past ten years.

It's very late, and I usually go to sleep early. Tonight was a special case. I got to meet my soulmate. Uh, kinda.

Anyway.

Goodnight, SG.

-Kim

Kim sat back, sighing. It had taken her ten drafts to get that to sound right, and even now it seemed awkwardly stiff. As an afterthought, she wrote her phone number into one of the margins. Just in case.

Shego starts reading while Kim is about halfway through her letter. She catches up by the end, watching the graceful handwriting appear in something of a dreamlike state. Multiple times she pinches or slaps herself (lightly), just to make sure. Oh my god, it's really happening.

The urge to write back, to take up some space - to show that No, I'm awake! is astounding. Shego resists, barely. Her writing hand is trembling, the pen tapping lightly against the wood of her desk. I haven't been this excited since I was eighteen.

As soon as Kim writes down her goodbyes, she pauses for thought. Kim P. That sounds... familiar? Quickly, she makes a note on her phone to keep track of it. Then, she writes on the paper.

My name is Shego. I teach advanced Physics in Middleton high school.

Kim appears to already be asleep, as she doesn't respond. Shego stands, wincing as her legs pop uncomfortably. Okay, tired. Her clock says 5:30. Guess I'll just stay up for the day.

It's noon before Kim responds again.

Oh my god. I think I have your class.

What?

I think I take your class. Kim Possible. I sit on the front row. Bright red hair.

Oh. Oh no. This is exactly what I was scared of.

Should I have kept it a secret?

I would've realized it when I saw the ring. It's fine.

We, uh, can't really let anyone know.

I figured. How are we going to survive a whole week of school without getting found out?

I don't think we will. You know, your friends are going to be all over you tomorrow.

And every day after that I don't tell them. If I try to get them to hold off until the end of school, they'll figure out something's funky as well.

And my parents! What the heck am I going to do?

Well, if you can survive their questioning until Saturday, I can help you break it to them.

I think I can manage that much. I'll tell them that my soulmate has a very busy schedule, that you can't even talk to me apart from brief notes.

That does make me a bit sad. It's true, though. I can't really use the book during school hours - you shouldn't have yours on you, either.

Oh my god, stop pretending to be a teacher.

I'm not pretending, Miss Possible.

Ew, no. Never. I'll start calling you "Miss G".

Truce?

Truce.

They continue on like this for some time, until Shego has to flick on her desk lamp. She can't help the warm smile that has crawled across her face, the heat suffusing her heart. Finally.

Eventually, she sits up and her back pops. She looks outside, looks at her clock. Eight thirty PM.

My age is catching up to me, Kim I've got to sleep.

Your age must be catching up to me, too, because I was about to say the same thing.

See you tomorrow?

Yeah. See you tomorrow.

G'night, KP.

Night, SG.