UNFILLED SPACE

❛   hey shiro   !   do you want to try this cool new candy-making toy i bought in japan   ?   ❜

             she doesn’t notice her dad’s impressive dodge of a very volatile land mine, instead immediately answering with “HOW TO POUR CEREAL!” surprisingly – or not surprisingly at all, given the state of the room only moments earlier  – mako’s still yet to master that. ana had given up hope after the first six tries, shortly after deciding it’s best they just eat outside where she could let ella’s friends ( the birds and squirrels ) take care of the unending crumbs instead. 

“otou-chan, SIT !! sit !! ♡” she exclaims with gusto, palm slapping atop the seat by the kitchen table, already having decided in her mind that they’re going to have the ham sandwiches since cereal had been breakfast. mako hurries back over to the fridge and pantry, gathering up the cheese, ham, and loaf of bread. NO CONDIMENTS, auntie ana had shouted that several times – maybe because mako had already decorated the counter with mustard after simply grabbing the bottle too hard.  ana had given up with that, taking over the task of spreading everything on herself once mako was satisfied with her side of the work.

climbing up onto the chair, she drops them all onto the table while beginning her showtune. “dadada da DAAA !! dadada da DAAAAA ! welcome to mako’s cooking show!! today we’re making mako and otou-chan’s special ham sandwiches!! mr. otou-chan please!! the breads ♪ !!” she holds out both her palms, dancing them in front of shiro before she turns to their imaginary studio audience. “did you know, bread grows on bushes! right under the ham tree!”

    shiro knows himself well enough that he’s not at full capacity, not fully there  &  mood soured for all he’s trying to act otherwise  ---  which is what makes it all the more surprising  &  wonderful when the snort escapes him.  a quick, silly sound; just pure, simple humor.  a moment of levity, smile genuine for the seconds it stays on. his shoulders are shaking as he dutifully cuts the loaf of bread into uneven slices, then placing them on mako’s palms.

                    ❛  … I don’t think I can do this again,  ❜  shiro confesses quietly. ❛  This is a lot harder than you make it out to be, uh … what should I … ?  ❜  it’s rude to ask, he thinks … having a name would be nice, but simply calling him .. his own name is … not that he minds, although it might make it confusing for everyone else. he glances towards him … his own face, as strange as it is and offers him a smile. it’s not his fault .. he can’t stay mad at someone who never asked to be here, was given no other purpose than to serve the galrans … they might think lesser of him, but he doesn’t. shiro doesn’t.  

                 he sets the measuring cup down and sighs quietly. this cooking thing isn’t really working out, having tried to bake some altean cookies for the last two hours. he’s too impatient in the kitchen to deal with it, not to mention he hadn’t cooked too much in the last eight years considering the garrison and his job had given him what he needed. no cooking required. shiro gazes down at the dirty glass cup, eyebrows knitting in reverie as he tries to ask an extremely … difficult question. ❛  … You … um … ❜  he’s never felt so uncertain in his life, fumbling around with words possibly better left unspoken. breaking his stare down at the glass to the mirror image next to him, shiro speaks up quite a bit less meeker than he had been prior.

                   ❛  Do you … want a name?  ❜

    at fifteen he cut off half his name, tired of mispronunciations, tired of   ‘ taka ’   &  ‘ kashi ’  &  just says,    “  call  me  shiro.  ”    it sticks.  it unfurls from there.  ten years later they’re cutting off his arm, cutting him off from his crew, cutting him off from his lion  &  shiro just wants to ask, what part of him won’t anyone take ?  what part of him can he keep ?

    he’s used to this.  to looking at his own reflection  &  seeing only open wounds, seeing something ugly  &  not him, not him, not him.  only it usually doesn’t talk back.  doesn’t look at him like he’s on the wrong side of the mirror.

    shiro’s face contorts something terrible, something hurt  &  insidious  &  unfamiliar.

    “  ...  i  have  a  name.  ”     the words tear from him, gunshot exit wound, voice shrapnel on gravel on a ghost of a man trying not to collapse in the castleship’s kitchen. shiro sets his bowl down with more force than the other man did. his pulse ricochets with the sound of it.

    SUBJECT Y0XT39  whispers in his head  &  something in shiro flares, ugly, not him, not him.

❛   trust me,   shiro   —   anything is better than whatever look you’re trying to call fashion now.   ❜   with deft hands   &.   a world-renowned fashion sense,   she quickly cuts into his hair, styling it in a simple but refreshing manner.   much better.   ❛   see   ?!   not so bad,   right   ?   ❜

     with ann, shiro never stops chuckling for more than a minute.     “  you  really  love  to  take  every  chance  you  can  to  get  a  dig  at  me,  don’t  you  ?  ”    he’s not offended.  is pleased, actually, when he sees the reveal, turning his head back  &  forth, carding his hand through what’s left of his hair.  much shorter.   his reflection is grinning.     

              she’s still watching the girls when he greets her, a laugh started from seeing mako attempt to cram fistfuls of fried shrimp in her mouth spilling into her own merry “hello” as ella recalls keith and lance’s similarly stuffed cheeks upon their eating competitions. “it’s a pleasure to meet you. i’m ella,” she smiles as she bows. but the moment she rises and her eyes meet his, the room stills with a pulse. suddenly, she’s captured, captivated by him; she’s never seen eyes so soft for the sharpness of them. 

ella remembers her children’s insistence that she return with a wealth of stories about her special night – and she had certainly imagined meeting fascinating people from every pocket of the kingdom – but this is a moment she hadn’t considered. it’s a sweetness, light and fluttery, one a little like the first time she had met each of her children, knowing her life would then change forever, for the better. 

it seems silly to get ahead of herself like this, her smile turned a bit sheepish then …  but that she could feel this way at all fills ella with gratitude, gentleness even as she speaks, entirely oblivious to his station. “and how is your evening thus far, ser shiro?”

    when shiro catches her gaze, he holds it.  grins crooked when she smiles, that bit of rogue in him remaining even under years of ham -- fisted decorum.  (  wonders if she feels it too, how the world turns just a bit faster.  he’s a man come from fairy tales,  everyone says,  yet this is the first he’s felt even a drop of magical, a touch enchanted.  )

    “  better,  now.  i  think  the  corner  i  was  standing  in  before  hindered  me  from  having  the  best  time  possible.  unfortunate  lighting,  perhaps ?  ”    or unfortunate company, may taehyung never hear his thoughts.

    then he comes to the meat of it, the reason he’s slide over to this woman, this dazzling ella. he’s casual with it because of course he is.  it’s his own party  &  shiro's held business meetings with blades to his throat. he gestures to the direction mako  &  alice have left, pride  &  adoration on his every line.  it’s a good look on him.

                mako arrives with a pack TWICE HER SIZE strapped to her back and full of a multitude of sunflowers, daisies, hydrangeas, and chrysanthemums. when she had announced she was visiting keith and lance’s home, her mother had insisted she bring something over – and once mako had finished listing the seemingly endless count of family members her friends boasted, the whole mankanshoku team raided the alleyway of the nearest florist shop for the freshest thrown-away blooms. 

“oooooooh i see!” she isn’t discouraged at all by the slight delay, grabbing shiro’s hand as she immediately begins to tug him from the door. “shiro-kun, shiro-kun, let’s go buy hot YAMS for everyone!” she had seen a cart just a block away and mako thought they would go well with any meal.  

     at the very least, spending time with mako is hardly a chore.  of all he’s been asked to do, this is something he actually enjoys. she’s a bright girl, charming in her sincerity  &  he lets her lead them to wherever, content to stroll holding her hand. 

     petals float from mako’s pack as they walk, leaving a colorful trail after them.  if shiro listens closely, he can hear the faint song of faeries in the buildings above.  with all the magic around them in plain sight, they’re hardly out of place.  mako only adds to the magic of this place.

                    ❛   wow.   was that necessary   ?   ❜   both insult   &.   amusement mix within her tone,   only leaving traces of heavy sarcasm to part from her lips.   the smile still remains,   bright as the sun,   as she takes it in stride   —   trickles of laughter more similar to liquid sunlight pour from her lips.   attention shifts to the camera,   hand raised to fit in the screen where metallic scissors noise as she shears the air.   ❛   like shiro said,   i’m fulfilling a long dream of being in a dedicated relationship with food.   but shiro’s offered to let me live my second longest dream,   &.   that’s cutting off this disaster that’s been on his head since the jurassic era.   ❜   grin grows wider to show off a spectacle,   looming menacingly over her partner.    ❛   ready when you are   !   ❜

    "  woah,  hey.  ”      he catches mako just on time, her reaching the apartment complex  &  blocks her with his body, closing the blue door shut behind him.  he leans against it, smile on, hand carding through his hair.  casual as ever.       “  glad  i  caught  you,  mako.  listen,  they’re  not  ready  upstairs,  so  do  you  want  to  walk  around  here  for  a  bit ?   i’ll  keep  you  company.  ”      under no circumstances, he was told, should he let mako enter the apartment until ella gives him the say so. planning a human -- like dinner isn’t easy.