#pyreflown

     It’s cold in the castle tonight, broad streaks of light flashing over closed eyes, the gentle whir of the vents pumping recycled oxygen and the staunch sweetness of copper thick on the back of his tongue. No, that isn’t right. Copper has no place on the ship. Let alone his room. Panic takes hold, something tugging, grabbing with far reaching hands incorporeal and terrfyingly strong until he’s under the waves again. A soft lullaby rocking him to sleep.

     Desperate clawing to the surface again, an invading force at his door and he has only his two hands to fight it off. This is him! It’s his body!  H I S!  It was made for him don’t you understand that?! He’s not going anywhere! 

     His lungs seize, sucking in too rich oxygen too quickly. Wires jostle and the minute shock of electricity races down his spine. The encased body throws itself against the containment unit, healing pod, incubator, wherever the HELL he is he wants out! Spluttering hard against the glass, fist pounding to free himself from the confining prison. Enclosed spaces never bothered him before. They do now.

     The last coherent memory flutters past his opening eyes. Keith, blade drawn, looking at him like- No...No Keith would never hurt him. He’d never...what... What had happened? He has to know. Was Keith okay? The team! Voltron! Something was wrong...they weren’t...they weren’t on the ship before. They weren’t anywhere he’d ever seen.

After almost ten minutes of searching, Shiro finally pulls into a street parking spot in front of the library. Just as he changes the gear into park, however, his passenger side door is yanked open and someone flings himself in, yelling, ❛ DRIVE !! ❜

Bewildered, Shiro stares, hands still on the wheel. It takes him a second to recognise that dark flop of hair. ❛ Keith !? ❜ Keith from two nights ago ?? Keith, his apparent soulmate who’d crashed all of Shiro’s preconceived conceptions about soulmates ?? Keith who’d flooded his world with colour only to disappear from it minutes later ??

Shiro has dreamed of this day for as long as he can remember. The romantic in him was excited to meet his soulmate—hopefully his one true love. Whenever he looked down at the mark on his wrist counting down the days he’d sigh longingly. For a long time he’d tried with Adam...tried to make things work when it simply wasn’t meant to be. The memories? Irreplaceable. He’d never be ungrateful for his time with Adam, but even now he was excited to put the heartache behind him. This was a time for new beginnings! 

And what better way to celebrate new beginnings than to go to the gym? He’d volunteered as a worker there for years without much issue, but today he had someone else on his mind. He kept glancing at his wrist throughout his time there. Around the numbers are small tattoos of roses—another permanent reminder of how much stock he’s put into the ticking time bomb on his wrist.

When the stranger ate dirt he stopped being concerned with his own wrist. Shiro recognized his face from somewhere, but he couldn’t place where. Must have been from campus or the gym. He couldn’t think of anywhere else they would have met. Kogane, Kogane, Kogane— Fuck, why don’t I know his first name? Shiro was on his knees immediately, placing a hand on the man’s cheek as he tried to wake him. Nothing. “Shit. Hey, someone call for a medic and get some ice!” Kogane was going to wake up with quite a shiner. The mark on his wrist hit zero, but Shiro hadn’t noticed. 

Shiro stayed by the younger’s side until he awakened. Basic pleasantries were exchanged—pleasantries that he would of been happier to exchange if the man didn’t have an obvious concussion. “Yeah, I know Pidge. Brightest student I’ve had in a long time.” He kept his voice soft and low. There was no need to be loud. He would bet money on the fact that the man’s head was probably throbbing. “I’m Shirogane Takashi. Your last name is Kogane, right? I’m sorry, I don’t know your first.” 

♢    What exactly was he trying to  accomplish  here? Shiro had come into the room, knowing Keith would be in here with the confidence, the  GONADS  to finally speak his mind... but at the sight of him... all of his previous determination had been crushed under the fear of rejection. He managed to open his mouth long enough, not to say anything  momentous,  but to stall until he figured out what he wanted to do. It was rightfully embarrassing to be speaking of someone secretly... to their face. Shiro felt kind of bad to be keeping something...  anything  from Keith. 

     Darkness greets the opening of eyes. It is the first thing we see, the first memory we hold, and he returns to it unwillingly. Fighting tooth and nail against the powers that  b e  to remain whole. He’s failed. He’s failed and he’s wrapped in the comforting darkness the world was born into and he’s alone. No....not alone. SHE’s there with him. What is this? This can’t be... The afterlife isn’t a place but this feels... t a n g i b l e. Some other level of existence thrust upon him and.

          Shiro!

     The distant hum of a familiar voice draws him in, focuses thought into comprehensive action and what form he can, he gathers around him. Reaches out.

               Shiro?                           He’s gone.

     “Keith? Lance?” The tone isn’t human. It echoes in the vast emptiness and he shudders at the cold response back. Nothingness hidden in nothingness, stretching farther than his mind can comprehend and then... They’re just beyond his reach. Standing so close and so far away and nothing aches but it hurts to know he can’t.... Be there.

     “Keith...” His only hope is when he connects with the Black Lion. Quiet whispers in a sympathetic ear, tuned to the sound of his voice.

          You’re awake, little one.

I SECOND THIS !! GIVE THIS TO ME !! I HAVEN’T EVEN WATCHED THE SEASON YET BUT GIVE ME THIS !!

               “Thanks.”