Chapter Text
“...and when one of them meets the other half, the actual half of himself, whether he be a lover of youth or a lover of another sort, the pair are lost in an amazement of love and friendship and intimacy and one will not be out of the other's sight, as I may say, even for a moment...”
― Plato, The Symposium
When Shiro is seven his first soul mark appears, right in the middle of class.
His right shoulder tingles for a good hour before it really starts to form. And it burns . It’s also if the centre of the sun is forming beneath his skin. It spreads into his flesh until it feels like his bones are on fire and his vision goes white.
He wakes to an off-white ceiling that’s more blue than the cream of his classroom. The school nurse invades his view and starts fussing at him. He can’t understand what she’s saying. The words turn to jelly in his brain and he can barely look her in the eye. But she smiles all the same and makes pleasing sounds so he nods and feels his eyelids drift shut.
Then his mother is there and his eyes snap open.
Her face is so full of concern and worry but also a spark of joy. She smiles gently and he tries to reply - really , he does! - but his right arm tingles with a stab of phantom pain as his fingers twitch. He cries, the sound sharp and hoarse like he’s been screaming for hours. Maybe he has. His gaze drops to the offending appendage as the women renew their fussing. His mouth drops at the sight before him.
A bright red Mark with purple accents engulfs his entire right shoulder and trails down his bicep.
It’s a sword of some strange make that he can’t identify - not that he knows anything about swords. The purple hilt curls over the top of his shoulder with what looks like a small red lion wrapped just above the guard. The blade’s tip almost reaches his elbow, flames curling around it like a wreath. A strange rune is carved into the guard, the purple so bright it almost glows, and it’s nothing like he’s ever seen before. (He’ll look for it later, in books and websites and manuscripts, through the obscure and common and hoaxes, for years and years and years until he’ll finally decide it doesn’t matter and he’ll accept it no matter what it means.)
His mother tells him his soulmate has just been born.
It’s a funny thought, particularly for a seven-year-old completely disinterested in romance. He knows what soulmate means; it’s love, true and undying, protection. Perfection. The other half of a person’s soul.
When it hits him, fully, completely hits him, he asks if he has to fall in love with a baby now.
His mother and the nurse exchange a queer expression and tell him no, it doesn’t work that way. When he asks how it does work he gets a fumbling explanation of how not everything is about romance like the TV says and profound bonds and puzzle pieces that fit together no matter how broken the edges get. It only leaves him confused and his mother befuddled while the nurse wrings her hands and looks nervous. So he nods like he understands even though he doesn’t and he doesn’t think his mother is fooled since she’s the smartest person he knows but she smiles like she is and the topic is dropped.
After another hour to make sure the pain of a new Mark has dissipated, he’s allowed to return to class.
In the end, Shiro concludes that soulmates make no sense.
~~
It’s several months later, not long before Shiro turns eight, that his second soul mark comes in.
He’s at home when it happens, sitting on the couch with his parents when the pain comes. It stings a little, the sharp jab of needles deep into skin, but is quickly soothed with sunlight and honey. He feels a slight tug in his left foot as the bond solidifies and finishes forming.
Rolling up his pant leg and removing his sock, Shiro sits in stunned disbelief at the Mark that travels from the top of his foot to just the end of his calf. It’s yellow; a collection of stones arranged like a shield spread out beneath a gearwork sun. White-blue streaks of lightning spread out, connecting each piece and dimly forming the face of a lion as they dance around the stones. It’s beautiful in its simplicity but as he stares at it, realization slowly sinks in.
His second soulmate has just been born.
It isn’t like it never happens but the general norm in some places tends to prefer souls split in two. Souls split three ways aren’t unusual but are just uncommon enough to draw eyes. It seems silly now that he’s thinking about it. Maybe it’s because he’s one of those people now? But wouldn’t this mean he was always this way? He certainly doesn’t feel any different now.
But his head is spinning and his parents have seen it now, fussing and worrying over him as their eyes flicker to the new Mark and away. His thoughts are turning to jelly so he nods at his parents’ reassurances and turns back to the TV, ignoring the fear so clearly visible in their eyes.
~~
A few months later he’s playing soccer with his friends.
It’s a bright, sunny afternoon without a cloud in the sky. Neither of his parents are there - too busy with work - but some of his friends’ parents are. They sit on the sidelines, conversing loudly and keeping an eye on the rambunctious group of kids. But Shiro doesn’t particularly care about that. He files that information away in the periphery of his awareness, facts that are important in a distant sort of way but not requiring his full attention. It’s all about the game and leading his team to victory.
So focused is he that he doesn’t notice how numb his right leg is until he shifts his weight onto it. It flares to life as he goes to kick the ball. His collapses and he face plants in the dirt.
It’s not a hard fall but he moans into the ground anyway. His leg tingles like it’s just waking up. His leg tingles like it’s just waking up. Deep, worried voices reach his ears through the haze of pain just before hands grab him. He protests as they roll him over, asking a million questions he can’t hear until he finally shouts that his leg is only waking up, he’s fine, please leave me alone.
He opens his eyes, wondering when, exactly, he closed him, and finds them drawn to aforementioned leg.
It’s then that he spots the long stretch of blue on his leg.
The Mark is just on the outside of his calf, nearly knee to ankle, and shows a blue lion leaping downwards as if in flight. There’s a teal-toned scope with its crosshairs trained on the front of the beast. Water bursts from the edges of both things, blue and teal mixing as though each part is made of water. It’s almost like an image that Shiro would expect to see in an art gallery.
Everyone stares at it. Shiro doesn’t blame them, not really. His first Mark is already so large and visible that there’s nothing he can do to hide it short of a Mark concealer which his parents would never allow. And to the average person, seeing someone with two Marks is a novelty. Seeing someone with three is a spectacle.
Only a few of his friends know about the Mark on his foot and all of them look at him with something akin to horror. It hurts but he can’t say he blames them for that either (can’t because he knows, knows what it means knows there’s something wrong with him, knows what bad luck means). He won’t blame (not consciously, never consciously) if they never speak with him again (some won’t, some will only mumble a greeting before scurrying off).
After all, the more soulmates a person has, the more broken they are. And broken people are always the bad guys.
Having three soulmates is rare and the few famous people with that number are all killers, rapists, the scum of the earth types with no regards to others. It’s used as an excuse, an explanation, a justification for them, a reason why they are that way. Because a soul is split between four people can’t possible be stable.
Shiro never wanted to be one of those people. But he is.
His parents are called and his father comes to take him home . He makes worried, reassuring sounds but Shiro barely pays them any attention. When they get home, he goes to his room and closes the door.
The next year, he goes to a different school and his parents start buying him concealer.
~~
Shiro names his soulmates. There’s Sunny for the sun on his foot, Rune for the symbol on the sword, and Cat for the lion on his calf. He knows their real names will likely be completely unrelated to them but it makes him feel closer to them. They’re less abstract with names, more real. They have thoughts, feeling, even if they are unknown to him. He understands that they’re no more than babies and therefore don’t have much that is concrete but he likes the idea of them. A hidden part of him can’t wait to see what they grow up to be. No matter how broken that is.
He takes to covering up his Marks as often as possible.
~~
When Shiro is nine he decides he wants to go into space. He’s always been interested in space and the stars but now the interest cements itself into desire. Into a dream. He dives full throttle into it and announces to his parents that he’s going to join the Galaxy Garrison as soon as he’s old enough. His parents couldn’t be prouder.
His focus shifts from play to work, studying as much as he can to get the marks he needs. He wants to be a pilot, soaring amongst the stars and exploring the galaxy. He grabs anything he can find on ships and vehicles, anything that could potentially help himor catches his eye. It never hurts to start early. His teachers praise him for his dedication, tell his parents how great he’ll be, especially with how young he is. They accept it with wide smiles and proud hearts though he occasionally catches their worried glances.
So he still hangs out with his friends (new ones, none of the ones he used to know before Cat was born). It’s usually just enough to keep them from abandoning him and keep his parents from worrying too much. They worry enough already.
It is during one of his studying times things get worse, however.
The sun is out and so are his parents, running errands while he sits with crossed legs at the coffee table with books piled high. They asked before they left if he was going out with friends. Tired to encourage it, even. But he really wanted to study and improve his grades and he’d hung out with his friends just the other day. He’d be alright by himself so his parents gave him the ‘don’t answer the phone or the door, call if you need anything, numbers are on the fridge, there’s some leftovers if he gets hungry and make sure everything is locked’ speech. Then they kissed him goodbye and head out while he set up everything in the living room.
He frowns at his books and papers, frowning as he considers what to start on. With a sigh, he makes a face at his English homework before pulling his science books towards him. They’re not quite on the space unit yet but it is so much more interesting than spelling and grammar. He briefly stands to turn on the radio for some background music - he prefers some kind of sound while he’s working - and sits down to open his books.
He loses track of time, the minutes ticking by as the soft music drifts around him. It’s only when something jabs into his left arm that he looks up from his work. By the time he looks at it, however, the pain has already faded.
Blinking, Shiro turns to the window to see the sun dipping below the horizon farther than it was before. He turns to the clock on the mantle and, with a jolt, realizes that it’s nearing dinnertime. His father will be home soon and his mother not long after. His stomach clenches and he frowns at it, debating whether or not to have a quick snack before dinner and his father gets home or save it for dessert.
His arm twitches violently, causing him to cry out in pain his nervous flare to life. It’s harsher than before, like his elbow was entangled by a rose bush, skin pierced and blood trickling downward. It ebbs slowly, individual needles dissipating into nothing as he takes deep, harsh breaths. Eventually it fades completely.
Shiro frowns at his arm, worry etched into his face as his heart starts to pound. There’s only be been a few times he felt pain in this kind of manner, unexpected and fierce before quickly disappearing. It can’t be though. It’s impossible .
But another wave of pain has him curling in on himself, wrapped up like a ball squeezed in an iron fist, and gasping for breath. It’s the stabbing pain of hawthorn needles, of porcupine quills and cactus spines, and tears rush to his eyes. He bites back his whimpers and clutches his arm with spazzing fingers.
Then, the pain vanishes like aloe on a burn.
Panting, Shiro eyes the carpet beneath his cheek. He hadn’t even realized he’d fallen over. Previous pain like that had never been so intense. He isn’t sure what that means.
Slowly, he rolls onto his back and carefully rolls up his sleeve with a shaky hand. He freezes at the glimpse of fresh green that peeks out from under his elbow.
He bolts upright, barely acknowledging the dizziness it causes, and rips his sweater off. His eyes land immediately on the new mark stamped into his skin. Forest green vines with sharp, barbed thorns crawl over and around his elbow in a pattern eerily reminiscent of a circuit board. Several lighter flower buds dot the vines in a haphazard arrangement that almost made sense though he couldn’t really see it. A single flower, one he couldn’t identify, bloomed right in the crook of his elbow. A lion slept within it like some kind of magical fairy.
It is beautiful.
It is the most terrifying thing he’s ever seen.
Shiro doesn’t know how long he stares at it for. Hours? Minutes? Seconds? All he knows is he doesn’t look up until his father comes home.
The door creaks as it opens, drawing his eye as his father steps in, numbness still seeping into his core. His father raises an eyebrow at his state of undress and opens his mouth But then he seems to catch sight of the splash of green on his arm for his face falls and turns pale. Fear - poignant, pure, fierce fear - overtakes his expression; of him, for him? Shiro can’t tell.
He’s not sure he wants to.
His father approaches him slowly, carefully, like his a broken bird with snapping jaws and sharpened claws. And that’s what he is, isn’t he? Broken? No one, no one has four soulmates. No one’s soul is broken into five people. Shattered, incomplete pieces that will never be whole no matter how close they get. Used scraps of people who were once real.
Broken.
His father helps him put his sweater back on, tells him to pack up his books and rest while he makes dinner.
Shiro doesn’t remember doing so but he must have since everything is neatly put away in the corner when he next looks. He doesn’t remember much from that night at all. Not dinner or when his mother comes home, not whatever came afterwards. He doesn’t even remember going to bed.
But he does remember the horrified looks on his mother’s face.
~~
Neither of his parents ever tell him not to worry. They move away latter that same year.
~~
At fifteen, Shiro meets his self-proclaimed best friend (because apparently “dibs” is a thing that applies to friendships now). Matt Holt is a wonder and Shiro isn’t quite sure if that’s a good thing at this point. (Matt would say it is which is why Shiro will never, ever share that with him.)
They meet as roommates in the Galaxy Garrison, Matt training in communications while Shiro is on the fast track to being a pilot. Thus far they’re also in the same squad though some of the teachers have said that that might change as the year progresses. Matt is crazy smart and tends to ramble when he’s nervous or excited. Shiro quickly learns that he should pay attention or else he’ll get a word-for-word repeat of the thing at a slightly slower speed . How he remembers half the stuff he babbles is a mystery. Shiro’s current theory is speech cards.
They fall easily into a mutually beneficial relationship; Matt gets, in his words “the stick out of Shiro’s butt” while Shiro ensures the other boy gets more sleep and less caffeine. Apparently Mrs. Holt has a coffee addiction she accidently passed onto her son and hopes doesn’t catch her daughter. Commander Holt also apparently likes Garrison food, a trait not shared with the rest of his family. Matt is rather thankful for that.
~~
It’s only a few months into their friendship that the rumours start. Shiro is only surprised it took that long. It’s natural for people to take pleasure in gossiping and sticking their noses where they don’t belong. He hates it but it doesn’t surprise him and there’s very little he can do to stop it.
It doesn’t help that Matt’s soulmark is right on his face.
It’s a soft pink and fuschia mark that starts just underneath his right eye. The top forms a flower that doesn’t seem native to Earth - Matt has checked hundreds of databases - and the stem curls down along the edge of his face to rest a few inches off from his lips. Only a few bright leaves dot the stem while one dark petal dips towards the center of his cheek. The roots curve upwards from his mouth to meet it, the tips just barely touching. Within the tangle mess a pink lion sleeps.
It takes only one look for Shiro to know it’s not his. Mostly because he doesn’t think it fits him. He’s never been all that fond of flowers while cats are great he’s always enjoyed dogs more. Matt also told him that he was born with it.
“I’m dreading the day I finally invite you to my place,” he says. “I looked ridiculous . This big pink blob that looked like it was eating my face. Mom loves showing my baby pictures to my friends. Unless she thinks I like them, then she hides them.”
Shiro frowns. “Why wouldn’t you like your friends?”
He shoots him a flat look.
He flushes. “Oh. Right.”
“You sure you don’t need me to play wingman?”
“Positive.”
“You are no fun.”
He smirks and waggles his eyebrows. “Well, you’re the one who wants-”
Matt groans and whacks him with his textbook as he collapses with laughter.
~~
So rumours spread and denial only seems to add fuel to the fire. Matt doesn’t seem to care all that much, apparently having grown used to it growing up.
“Gossipy housewives and old grannies are the worst ,” he moans through a mouthful of peas. “They’re all like-” he swallows and pitches his voice up a few octaves until it’s high and nasally- “‘Oh, how pretty. Have they met yet?’ ‘Oh, she must be pretty to have a mark like that.’ ‘What do you think they’ll be like?’ ‘Yes, but what are you hoping for?’ ‘Oh, I’m sure they’ll be so cute together! Have you made plans yet?’” He snorts. “ So annoying .”
Shiro hums around his spork. “You’ll make a good old woman when you graduate, Matt.”
He flicks peas into his face. “Haha, very funny, Shiro. But the point,” he continues, snatching all the napkings before Shiro can wipe his face, “is that people romanticize soulmates. Perfect lovers and all that. I bet that even if we didn’t have Marks it would still pop up in fiction. People are made for that kind of thing, you know? At least in my experience. So people will talk and push, and yeah, I still kinda hate it, but constantly telling people that gets old . So you know what you do?”
“Throw peas in their face?” he gripes as he wipes the mess with his hand.
Matt laughs. “I was going to say ‘play dumb and ask them awkward questions’ but that’s even better!”
Shiro suddenly smirks, eyes glinting as he looks at his friend who looks back cluelessly. Then, he smashes the sloppy peas into Matt’s hair.
They both end up in the principal’s office for starting a food fight in the cafeteria
~~
The next weekend they have free from campus Matt invites Shiro to stay over.
“Not worried I’ll see your baby pictures?” he teases.
Matt rolls his eyes. “ No. I made my mom promise to hide them.”
“What if your sister gets to them?”
“She’s too short, she won’t be able to reach where Mom puts them. Really, Shiro, stop stalling. I want you to meet my family and since yours is so far away I thought it would be nice for you to get away from the Garrison for a bit!”
“Are you asking me out on a date?” He gasps and places a hand over his heart. “In that case, I graciously accept. What should I wear? Should I match your eyes?”
Matt groans and pushes him away. “Nope, forget it. Offer rescinded.”
“Can’t. I bet you already told them I’m coming. Wouldn’t want to disappoint them now, would we?”
Matt shoots him a venomous look and stalks off in a huff.
~~
The pair arrive at the Holt residence Friday night (with plans to head back Sunday afternoon with Matt’s father) and open the door to Mrs. Holt’s brilliant smile.
“You must be Shiro,” she says, wrapping him in a hug before kissing her son on the head. “It’s so nice to meet you! Matt’s told us so much about you.”
“The pleasure is mine, Mrs. Holt-”
“Colleen, please.”
“-And he talks about you a lot, too.”
“Only horrible things, I imagine,” Colleen replies, gazing fondly at her son.
Shiro hums and taps his chin. “Well, he did mention something about baby-”
“Nope! No, no, no, no, nope!” Matt yelps, pushing him into the house and ignoring the laughter in his mother’s eyes. “Mom, you promised! Shiro, totally not why we’re here!”
“Matt likes him,” a smug little voice sings, the slightest edge of slyness creeping in.
Shiro turns to the stairs as Matt turns red and spots a little girl with the most devious look on her face. Her eyes shine mischievously from beneath her bangs and he notes the golden yellow dress she wears. It seems to drown her in its length, the cloth leaving only her head and hands exposed. It is the sort of dress more fit for an old-fashioned woman than a little girl.
But what really caught his eye is the stark white tip of a Mark just under her chin. He couldn’t see anything more but it seemed so off from everything else about her that he can’t help but stare.
“Well,” he says, mouth working before his mind can catch up, “guess the secret’s out then. We’ve been dating for weeks.”
Katie Holt’s smirk is brilliant . Matt sputters and threatens to revoke best friend privileges.
A soft chuckle draws everyone’s attention to the man coming down the stairs behind Katie. Shiro’s eyes widen and is face turns red as he snaps to attention as he meets the eyes of Commander Holt.
“Sir,” he breathes with only a slight crack to his voice that makes Katie giggle. How could he forget who Matt’s dad was?
The Commander laughs. “You can stand down, son,” he says and for a wild moment Shiro thinks he means Matt before the realization hits that he’s talking to him because of course his own son wouldn’t be saluting him after only a few months in the Garrison. “There’s no need to be so formal. Come in, sit down. Dinner should be ready in an hour. Colleen is an amazing cook.”
“Ah, yes, sir. Of course.” He relaxes his stance but still feels tense as everyone is ushered into the living room. His and Matt’s bags are left by the stairs for the moment; they’ll take them up when they get ready for bed. Commander Holt claims an old armchair by the TV and Katie climbs up into his lap. Shiro takes the sofa with Matt as Colleen drifts into the kitchen for drinks.
“So,” Commander Holt begins, stroking his daughter’s hair, “how are you boys liking the Garrison so far?”
They fall into easy conversation, into discussions of family and interests and dreams. Matt goes on with amusing anecdotes that Shiro needs to correct or clarify for his family (to Matt’s annoyance even as they make them laugh so he doesn’t seem to really mind). Commander Holt brings up stories from his cadet days that Shiro doesn’t quite believe but just leave his children grinning.
Katie wanders off in the middle of it, presumably to find something a touch more interesting than a bunch of grown-ups talking. She nearly trips over her lengthy skirt and he frowns as he watches her go. Her family barely reacts, only checking to make sure she’s okay before smoothly returning to the conversation. Shiro worries his lip but says nothing, allowing himself to be pulled back into the conversation even as his thoughts distract him.
He misses the worried, defensive glance Matt shoots his way.
~~
Time seems to breeze by them like paper in the wind and, before he knows it, a small voice breaks the bubble of discussion surrounding them.
“Daddy!” Katie calls as she dashes up to Shiro’s side, hand reaching up to touch his arm. “Mommy says-”
Scratching, crawling, skittering, clawing , roots digging, dragging, stretching vines hardening to wood-thorns-needles growing, stabbing, sinking deep and spreading, blooming -
He’s ripped back to reality with a sharp jolt and slow blink to stare into the wide, frozen eyes of Katie Holt. She looks just as dumbstruck as he feels.
“Shiro?”
His attention is torn from her and agonizingly pulled to his right.
Matt leans towards him, one hand on his shoulder and worry etched into his face. Commander Holt is frozen mid-step - when had he stood? - with an arm extended towards them like he’s unsure of what to do with it.
“Shiro?” Matt repeats slowly and yes, it was him him who had spoken before, called it, called him , back- back? Back from what? Where did he go? Nowhere, everywhere, Forest . The Forest. Greens and browns and vibrance and moving parts and electrical circuits- “Are you okay?”
He opens his mouth to reply but he can’t remember how . The words seem to form on his tongue, abstract concepts that he understands but can’t grasp or explain. The make no sense to him and he can’t understand why . His brow scrunches up in confusion as panic starts to seize him.
“Sam? Is everything okay?”
He turns - slowly, still too slowly, everything feels tangled and growing and - to see Colleen standing in the doorway between living room and kitchen. She looks concerned, frowning slightly as she takes in the room. Then her eyes land on Katie’s hand where her fingers convulse on Shiro’s elbow. He watches as, somehow, concern morphs to understanding.
She cautiously approaches them like she would a wounded animal. She keeps her eyes locked on his though. “Shiro, what are you feeling?”
“Mom?”
She waves away her son’s query, focus entirely on him. “You don’t have to say it. Just think about what you feel in this moment.”
Feeling? He’s not sure he’s feeling anything. His emotions feel deadened, rubbed raw from the electric tingle racing through his veins. It’s like they’re stretching-growing- reaching beyond him, beyond him to-
His arm twitches and moves without his will, fingers gently brushing against the Mark just barely visible on Katie’s chin.
And it’s her turn to gasp and his to freeze and Shiro has no idea what’s going on .
But Colleen sighs like she’s relieved but carrying the universe on her shoulders and Commander Holt looks seconds away from solving some complex puzzle but can’t be sure of the last piece and Matt looks like just as confused as he feels.
Then Katie looks up at him with her ever curious eyes and asks in the most straightforward manner possible for a six-year-old, “Are you an alien?”
Matt makes a strangled sound behind him and all he can think to say is, “Um… no?”
She frowns and drops her gaze to his elbow where her fingers still rest, tapping them along the edge of his shirt. It echoes strangely through his flesh, like it’s his fingers twitching against his arm. Katie shifts her attention to her own arm, glaring at it like it’s betrayed her. But she doesn’t stop her tapping.
“Katie,” Matt starts, a storm in his eyes, “Shiro is not your alien.”
Wait, what?
Colleen scowls and when she speaks, her voice is hard. “Matt. What have you been telling your sister?”
He flushes and hunches in on himself, averting his eyes as he pouts. He mumbles something incoherent but doesn’t seem inclined to complete answer her.
Katie steps in, bring her other hand up to touch her chin. “I’m alien marked!” she declares proudly.
Everyone freezes, eyes darting between the two siblings. Eventually the tension snaps; Colleen sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose, Matt’s expression sours, Commander Holt;s eyebrows shoot up into his hairline, and Shiro stares dumbfoundedly at the little girl who is apparently his soulmate.
“Uh…”
“Matt,” Colleen hisses, “what have we told you about telling you sister weird things?”
“Well, she asked! It was the easiest way to explain it!” He at least has the good graces to look ashamed. “Besides, she can keep a secret if it’s aliens.”
Ah. Well then.
All at once Colleen softens and Commander Holt turns mournful. He pulls his son into a hug and whispers comforting words into his ear as his body shakes. Katie’s gaze darts between everyone as she frowns, obviously sensing the shift in mood if not the reasons.
Shiro leans over, grabbing her attention. Grinning, he says, “Hey, so it looks like I really am your alien.”
Her smile is big and bright and he vows to do everything in his power to keep it there.
~~
Connection, the act of establishing a bond with your soulmate, is taught at the tender age of fourteen. Apparently some parent now decades dead thought it would destroy childhood innocence and encourage children to participate in lewd behaviour. Or something. And, of course, various parents have since taken up that torch of ‘protecting the children’, and thus stop important educational changes from happening.
And while Shiro can, to an extent, understand that - he’s fifteen to Katie’s six - he can’t help but find the whole thing ridiculous. After all, kids accidentally find their soulmates all the time. Case in point, Katie Holt, whose soulmates are all much older than her. At least she has parents willing to explain everything to her as many times as needed. It also helps that she absorbs information like a sponge.
The funny thing about Connections, though, is that they are never quite the same for each bond. If you take two different bonded pairs who have a Connection of Sight, one might be able to see through each other’s eyes, essentially exchanging vision, while another could see through their own eyes at the same time as they peer through their partner’s. Even those with more than one soulmate will have different types of bonds between each person. No one is quite sure why they happen or why they differ so much and research is difficult without opening people up while they’re still conscious. All Connections have one thing in common though.
Each is extremely intense.
So when Shiro announces his and Katie’s Connection as Touch it’s with some hesitation. It only really seems to be minor things; the ghost of sensation when another warm - or cold, as they found out thanks to Matt - body touches is one of them. It doubles, echoes, when they touch each other - Katie grabbing his leg, Shiro patting her head - and no matter how much she seems to be enjoying it (“She likes experimenting, Shiro, let her have fun!”) he doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to it. Despite all of this, neither feels the level of intensity so often described.
As the weekend wears on, Shiro begins to wonder it it’s something that develops over time or exaggerated when Katie trips and hits her head on the coffee table.
For a split second, his vision goes black. It clears to the sight of her crying on the floor as her parents make sure she’s alright. Matt is still seated beside him, back ramrod straight and the book he was reading forgotten by his side. His arms occasionally twitch like eh wants to help but doesn’t want to crowd her and is thus frozen in place.
Shiro blinks and slowly drops his head into his hands as the pounding in his head finally registers. “Ow.”
Matt turns to him, eyebrow raised and mouth pulled into a frown. “Ow?”
“Yes.” He gingerly touch the painful part of his head - the same place as Katie’s - as his stomach drops. “Ow.”
“Are you okay, Shiro?”
“Pain…”
“So, like, a headache or-”
“Touch is secondary,” he explains, lifting his head just enough to see Katie sniffling in her mother’s arms. “We share pain. Touch is just… a side effect.”
The Holts freeze; Matt’s eyes widening as his parents share horrified looks. It’s not the kind of Connection anyone wants with their soulmate, to share the feeling of injuries even without the physical signs. But it makes sense, doesn’t it? They have too many soulmates, too many pieces that can get lost and damaged, separated into too many pieces. Katie stares at him, confused tears streaming down her face.
Finally, after the pained silence drags on too long, Commander Holt speaks. “We’ll figure this out.”
He sounds more confident than Shiro feels.
~~
The rest of the weekend passes in a blur. Well, it’s more like a horrified haze because Katie seems to quickly get over the fact that she’ll be experiencing his pain for the rest of her life and quickly gets back to her experiments. Her slightly more violent experiments.
“She’s six, ” Shiro complains after the umpteenth time she’s stubbed her toe on a random object. He’d give her credit for the varied and often creative ways she’s managed to do it if his feet didn’t hurt so much as a result.
Matt, the traitor, just laughs. “Reason number one Mom and Dad don’t want to get her a chemistry set she’s been asking about for her seventh birthday. They’re worried she might actually end up blowing something up.” He seems way more amused by that thought than he really should be.
“At least she seems to be staying away from dangerous things so far,” he sighs, wincing at the sudden jab in his shoulder. He really needs to have a talk with her at some point.
“Oh, don’t give her ideas, please . She already has enough of them.”
He simply smirks.
Shortly thereafter, Commander Holt calls them down to ask if they’re ready to leave yet. They nod in affirmation and gather the belongings that had just finished packing. They say goodbye to Colleen and Katie, Shiro lingering to pat Katie’s head and reassure her that he’ll be in touch, as per the rules Colleen is making him follow. And finally, the boys return to the Garrison.
On the way, lead settles in the pit of Shiro’s stomach. He isn’t sure what it means.
~~
They work it out eventually, Katie stops her experiments and Shiro learns to be more careful to ensure she doesn’t have to deal with any training injuries he might incur. They talk once a month through video calls under the watchful eye of Colleen and he keeps the conversation on simple things, science and ships, mostly.
Katie loves the stars as much as he does.
It’s still a little weird to him, being connected to someone so young. But it’s nice to have a friend like her, someone so innocent and joyful and knows the burden of being split too many different ways.
She already feels like family.
~~
One year later, in a crowded mall on a weekend away from the Garrison, Shiro catches another soulmate. Literally. A split second after the boy bumps into him his pocket feels just a little bit lighter. His arm snaps out and he barely grabs the back of the boy’s before he has time to disappear. His hand must brush against something because something almost audibly snaps into place and he’s suddenly lost in an inferno.
The boy freezes, turning to stare at him with wide eyes like he’s some kind of monster. Shiro hardly registers retrieving his wallet from his stiff fingers.
That simple action seems to jolt the boy out of his trance. He nimbly twists out of his hold and darts away into the crowd.
A piece of Shiro seems to break off and vanishes with him.
~~
He doesn’t remember how he makes it back to the Garrison. He doesn’t even realize he’s there until he finds himself in his room with Matt in his face demanding answers. To what, he doesn’t know. He barely understands that questions are being asked, only the concern on his friend’s face breaks through the haze in his head.
And within all that, all he knows is that’s cold and burning and his mind can barely make sense of anything. He doesn’t know how words are formed or how he moves, but he manages to release a strangled moan and claw at his shirt like it’s eating him alive. Matt jumps in to help, prying his fingers loose to easily tear off his clothes. He’ll need a new one, he thinks in some distant corner of his brain.
Matt’s eyes drop to the tangled green vines that make up his sister’s Mark on his skin but Shiro turns, clutching at the blazing sword that takes up most of his other arm. He digs his fingers in deep, like he’s about to rip it apart, tear it open and watch it bleed.
Matt’s face goes gray and he pats his hand, soothes out his fingers and whispers something that he can’t quite comprehend.
In the next instance, he’s sitting on Matt’s bed with a laptop before him. His friend hovers in the background, a presence he’s only tangentially aware of but thankful for nonetheless. A call suddenly connects and Colleen’s face fills the screen. She speaks - he thinks - and maybe Matt replies but he can’t hear them.
Soon, Colleen is replaced by Katie who wears distress like a second skin. She seems ready for bed with freshly brushed hair and pajamas. His mark is clearly visible like this, a black lion diving down towards the earth. The line he noticed before is its tail, long and white and set against a black void. White mechanical wings stretch out from its back to wrap delicately around her neck like clawed hands. The body and void of the Mark are speckled with dots of white like a starry sky.
Sometimes, he thinks of it as a noose.
Still, the sight of it seems to sooth something inside of him, makes the fire burn a little less. Where ashes gather on scorched earth, flowers and vines bloom and grow up to battle the emptiness that now seems filled with life. The world seems to narrow in on the little girl up past her bedtime with her mother in the background and her brother at his side. She’s the only anchor he has at the moment.
“It’ll be okay.”
He will never know who said that.
~~
Incomplete. That’s what the nurse tells him when Matt finally coaxes him to the infirmary. He established a Connection with his soulmate (another one, but Matt carefully concealed Katie’s Mark before they left the room) but the bond was not completed. His soulmate didn’t establish their side of it, left the bond frayed and open, lopsided and barely functional even as it tries to assert itself. His part of it, she theorizes, is pouring everything it has into completing it but just can’t without the boy to finish it, hence the abyss that seems to consume his heart.
She’s only seen this kind of thing once or twice before and the only solution is to find the boy in order to complete it. She says it like it’s easy to track down a complete stranger he didn’t see clearly as he picked his pocket. But until he manages it, he’s excused from all his classes and ordered to rest and do whatever it takes to keep himself as grounded as possible.
Matt thinks she’s being absolutely ridiculous, expecting so much from him in that condition.
Either way, the end result is that Shiro hunkers down in their room and occasionally video chats with Katie whenever she’s free. Matt forces him to eat and move and clean up and go to bed but he doesn’t know if he truly sleeps. His mind drifts and nothing quite sinks in with nothing to focus on. Time passes in a daze and it’s only because of his friends that he can even acknowledge it.
So it’s almost with relief that an intruder in his room brings everything sharply into focus. Of course, that might also have something to do with the punch to the arm that comes with them.
“Ow! What the hell?”
He whips around - boiling lava and cold steel - and freezes at the sight of the pickpocket - his soulmate - standing over him with a fierce glare. And as the fire in his skin fades, he realizes that they’ve completed their Connection.
“Why are you smiling?” the boy demands.
For some reason, that small, grumpy voice reminds him of angry kitten.
The kid’s face goes red. “Excuse me?!”
He blinks. “Ah? Did I say that out loud?”
His glare just intensifies.
“Well, uh. I’m sorry?” He smiles and extends a hand. “I’m Shiro.” The boy frowns and his expression falls a little and he drops his hand to rub the back of his neck. He feels like he’s in a dream, the world around him not quite real after the darkness that was swallowing him for so long. “Well, it’s Takashi Shirogane but I prefer Shiro these days.”
The boy’s face scrunches up and he mumbles, “Keith,” before darting to the window and jumping out. It’s only then that Shiro notices the broken glass scattered on the floor and he wonders how he’s going to explain this to the teachers.
~~
It turns out that no explanation can cover damage to school property. While Matt is glad that he’s returning to normal, he’s understandably upset that it involved a little kid breaking into their room to punch him. Iverson puts him on bathroom duty for two weeks for the broken window. When he points out that it technically wasn’t his fault it’s doubled to a month for talking about to a superior officer. He scowls but stays silent in case he’ll extend it further.
He updates Katie with what he knows which, incidentally, isn’t actually all that much. She starts forming theories and excitedly talking about meeting Keith though Shiro isn’t sure that’s a good idea. The kid seemed to barely tolerate him and left at the first opportunity. Even giving his name seemed to be more from politeness than any real desire to tell him. Adding an excitable seven year old will only make that worse.
She pouts but assents to his logic.
After that, his free time is spent catching up in all his classes. It’s not terribly difficult - Matt is an excellent note taker - but it still means he has little time to contemplate his current soulmate status. So far he’s found two - both so young that - and it keeps bringing him back to the knowledge that both of them are broken just like he is. But they can’t be. They are still so young and innocent and yeah, Keith seems to have taken up pickpocketing but they can’t be broken. Not yet. He won’t let them.
Which means he needs to better himself in order to be even a small light that they can look towards.
~~
The following week leads Shiro to several conclusions; Iverson can be so much more than a Drill Sergeant Nasty, bathroom duty sucks but at least he’s allowed the use of proper cleaning supplies (and isn’t yet forced to use a toothbrush), Keith’s an angry kid and their Connection is Emotions.
For the first one, Shiro always knew that Iverson was tough on most students - enough students complained about him in hushed whispers when they were sure he wouldn’t hear them - but he had simply written it off as being the standard fair when joining a military organization. But Iverson constantly hovered over his shoulder while he worked, made up stains that he missed just to get him to do more, and never seemed satisfied with what he did. Any noise that wasn’t cleaning or a clipped “Yes, sir!” was met with the threat of further punishment.
(At one point, a ghastly looking student stumbled in and threw up on Iverson’s leg. He got some satisfaction from it even though he had to clean it up. It also got Iverson out of his hair for the rest of the day.)
During all of this, Shiro experienced waves of anger and irritation. Initially he thought it was due to Iverson but when a sharp spike of it flooded him in the middle of a flight simulation - his absolute favourite thing - and caused him to lose concentration and crash he had to concede that that it probably wasn’t him. Conveying this knowledge to Matt only resulted in a sympathetic look and and a pat on his back.
It is after such a week that he now finds himself staying up way too late on a Friday night finishing up an assignment due first thing in the morning because teachers are cruel and Iverson has given him very little time to get any actual work done. Matt is in a similar state but he has the annoying habit of leaving everything to the last minute and getting amazing marks anyway. Shiro is almost envious but he sees how much stress it ends up causing him. At this point, he’s about ninety percent sure that Matt is living solely on the thick sludge the Garrison calls coffee.
In any case, he sits at their shared desk because he actually cares about his posture (“I’m just fulfilling the scientist stereotype, Shiro!”) and goes through his work to try to find anything he can do to increase his word count. He is so close he just needs-
A strangled shriek startles him and only barely prepares him for the clatter of various delicate objects shattering on the floor. He spins around to see everything that was on their bedside table on the ground as Matt stands atop it and gesturing wildly at the window. He looks angry but the gestures are so vague he can’t actually understand what he’s doing.
“Uh, Matt?”
He grunts and glowers, making shooing motions at… something… before sliding his hands along the glass. He slowly opens the window and leaps backwards, brandishing a show like a sword. Shiro blinks and suddenly an angry ball of red and black is in his face glaring at him.
“I can’t sleep,” Keith growls as he looms over him, Or attempts to, anyway. He’s too much like an angry kitten for him to be suitably intimidated.
He frowns and pushes the boy away. “So you snuck back in to bother me?”
“Well it’s your fault!”
“ How ?” Matt hisses, still wielding the shoe. “He hasn’t seen you since you broke our window! Which he got blamed for, by the way.”
“He’s keeping me awake!”
Keith’s anger spikes as he face turns red with rage. Shiro feels it crash over him like a wave and he can’t stop his own irritation from build. The boy whips around to glare at him. Emotions clash and peak, feeding into each other and bouncing back and forth like a violent game of ping pong. Shiro feels a headache building.
Cringing, he pinches the bridge of his nose and moans. “Our Connection.” Matt turns to him, confused, before throwing his head back and groaning.
Keith frowns. “What?”
He taps his right shoulder and raises an eyebrow. “You know about Connection, right? Ours is Emotions.”
The boy just stares. “What.”
“...You do know about Connections, right?”
“Of course I do!” he scoffs, crossing his arms and attempting to look down on him. Matt snorts but doesn’t comment.
Shiro rolls his eyes. “Sure. At any rate, if we’re going to be assigning blame then you’re the one that’s been keeping me from concentrating on my school work properly.” He waves a hand at his laptop. He wisely refrains from mentioning the numerous jabs of pain he’s gotten from Katie over the past year. She has yet to grow out of her recent accident-prone phase and while it has, on the odd occasion, kept him awake during a boring lecture, he finds it equal parts annoying and worrying. He just hopes the pain never gets worse.
Keith flushes and looks away, hunching in on himself. The ghost of something - dread? Anxiety? Shiro can’t quite place it - curls along the edges of his awareness. Cold seems to seep into the room, the atmosphere thickening like a blood clot.
Finally, Matt sighs, snapping the tension like a breadstick. He rubs his forehead and sweeps his arm at the window. “Look, it’s late. Shiro and I have a lot of work to get done so can we please discuss this some other time?”
Keith casts a glance around the room. He nods in agreement and stalks to the window to-
-snap it closed while he kicks off his shoes and heads for the top bunk.
Matt and Shiro stare. Keith frowns. “What?”
“Just…” Matt starts, “what are you doing?”
“Going to bed.” His brow crinkles as he looks at them like he’s questioning their intelligence.
“But why here ?”
“”Because it’s easier.” Matt growls harshly which Keith must take as disagreement as he continues with,” Tomorrow’s ‘some other time’.”
And, okay yeah. “Can’t really argue with that,” Shiro relents with a shrug.
Matt whines, throws his hands up, and retreats to his own bed. Shiro shakes his head in amusement and returns to work.
It’s only much later when the paper is handed in and Matt is snoring like a trainwreck that Shiro realizes that Keith’s stolen his bed. And they don’t have a cot or anything.
He groans and drops his head onto the desk.
~~
He jerks awake with a sharp pain in his back. He groans and rolls onto his stomach, burying his face in his arms.
“Hey, Shiro. Get up.” Someone starts poking him insistently when he doesn’t respond. “I know you’re awake. You’re annoyed. So get up already so we can talk.”
He peeks out from his shelter to glare at Keith who simply quirks a brow and stares at him. It’s super effective.
Hissing like an angry cat - the effect seems lost on Keith since he now just looks confused - Shiro sits up and stretches. Keith stands beside, foot tapping a staccato beat on the floor, which only serves to increase his ire. He’s had way too little sleep and way too little coffee to be dealing with this. He wonders if Matt still has that stash of coffee he brought from home.
The Nyan Cat song suddenly blares to life, causing both boys to jump. Matt flails and falls out of bed. Groaning, he crawls back up to his pillow and picks up his phone with a grumbled, “Hello?” Shiro and Keith share a look as a scowl begins to work itself onto his face.
“Do you want me to out him on?” Matt asks after a moment, obviously disgruntled. He winces and sighs, turning to the others. “Shiro, Katie’s mad at you.”
He blinks. “For what?”
“Waking her up.”
He sputters. “That was Keith’s fault!”
“He says it’s Keith’s fault.”
“I only woke up Shiro! Who the heck does this Katie think she is?!”
“Our soulmate,” Shiro deadpans, giving him a flat look. Keith stares at him, He sighs again and taps his elbow. He can’t see the Mark but he’s sure the point has been made. “We met last year, our Connection is Pain. And since she’s my soulmate, she’s also yours. So yes, you kicking me in the spine did wake her up.”
“Oh.” He flushes. “I’m… sorry?”
“Keith says he’s sorry,” Matt relays. His eyes are closed and he’s still sprawled awkwardly on the floor. Shiro’s honestly surprised he’s still awake; he usually needs coffee to even form a coherent thought in the morning. “Hey Keith.”
“Yeah?”
“Katie’s mad at you.”
His jaw drops. “I thought she was just mad at Shiro!”
“She can be mad at as many people as she wants. She’s a free and independent woman.”
Shiro tries not to laugh, covering it up as much as he can with a cough. And rather poorly too if the way Keith glares at him is any indication.
“Now, can I go? These two really need to talk and I really need caffeine before I can deal with this. Hm? Yeah, okay. Have fun.” He hangs up and stands like some kind of anime zombie. Keith is suitably freaked out. Shiro would be amused if he wasn’t so tired. And sore. He will never sleep on the floor again.
As Matt goes to rummage about in the closet, he stretches and turns to Keith. “So, how did you even find me in the first place?”
He gestures at his back. “This bothered me until I found you.”
“...Did it hurt?”
“No, it was just annoying. And made it hard to concentrate.”
“Fascinating,” Matt mutters as he emerges with his spoils. “Either of you want coffee?”
“Matt, you are not giving coffee to an eleven-year-old.”
“How they hell do you know how old I am?”
“...Keith, I felt it when you were born.”
“Oh. Right.”
Matt rolls his eyes and sets up the coffee maker on the desk. “Whatever. By the way, Keith, aren’t your parents gonna be worried about you?”
“No.”
Shiro frowns and exchanges a look with Matt. Or tries to. Matt just looks like he needs to eat some brains. “Are you sure about that?”
“Well, they’re not my real parents, so why would they?”
Somehow Matt manages to look like a startled goldfish. “They’re not?”
“No,” he states flatly, eyes hard and expression fierce. The other boys wisely refrain from further comments on the subject.
“Ah, well,” Shiro begins, “have you met any other soulmates?” He’s not quite sure how he’ll feel if the answer is ‘yes’. While it would be great to know everyone he’s connected to, he’s not sure he’s quite ready to deal with all that. He needs to ensure that his soulmates don’t break but establishing all those Connections is daunting. And he’s barely managed to process his relationship to Katie, nevermind what he’ll have to do to deal with this new one.
But Keith shakes his head and he’s can’t help but feel relief. “No. I-” His face twists and a spike of despair flares up along their Connection. “And I don’t want to.”
Matt frowns. “But-” He bites his lip when Shiro shoots him a look, cutting him off. He grumbles under his breath, shoves coffee into Shiro’s hands and retreats to his bed with his own cup.
“That’s fine if you’re not comfortable with it. Though, I’ll have to explain it to Katie but nothing you don’t want explained, obviously.”
Keith starts at his feet, arms crossed as he considers it. “Okay. Just about the Connection. And I don’t want to know about her.” He glares at Matt when he makes a strangled sound. Turning back to Shiro, he says, “So, how do we stop it.”
“Uh, stop what?”
“The Connection.”
He chokes and fumbles his mug, spilling hot coffee across his lap. He bites his tongue, swallowing curses, and jumps to grab a towel. Katie’s really not going to be happy about this one. Wiping furiously at the damp patch, he casts about for a clean pair of pants. He really needs to do laundry.
“Well?”
Matt sighs and emerges from the cave he’s created just long enough to deposit his now empty mug on the bedside table, “You can’t. Some ‘souls fragments reconnecting’ theory. The hypothesis is that souls are meant to be single entities and that Connections are the only way they can achieve that.” A hard look settles over his face. “Once Connected, there’s no ‘stopping it’.”
A flash of panic shoots through the boy. “But-”
“ But ,” Shiro interrupts, finally getting on a fresh pair of pants, “you can learn to deal with it. Filter things out or manage how much it affects you.” He eyes his new pants, tight in all the wrong places and a bit too short in the leg. Probably Matt’s then, oh well.
“Then let’s start now.”
“It will take time, you know.”
“So sooner is better.”
He sighs and turns his gaze skyward. He sincerely hopes his other two soulmates are much more reasonable.
~~
In a way, working with Keith is much easier than working with Katie. For one thing, they can actually be the same physical space since Keith can just sneak out and join him out in the desert whereas Katie is under the very watchful eye of her family (and Matt would probably kill him). For another, Keith isn’t a hyperactive seven-year-old genius in a family of geniuses with a propensity for asking all the questions. No, he’s just a moody pre-teen with a short temper and a stubbornness to rival the laws of physics who tended to kick up a fuss whenever he didn’t get things on the first try. Which he is now doing.
At this point, Shiro is just glad they arranged they meetups at the crags not too far from the Garrison where the only thing the Keith can throw with any real vehemence is the occasional rock.
“Keith,” Shiro sighs as he runs at his tension headache, “it’s okay.”
The kid practically snarls . “It’s not .” He kicks at the ground like the petulant child he pretends not to be.
Shiro rolls his eyes and wonders, not for the first time, why? “I did say it takes time-”
“ You’ve managed to do it!”
His eyebrows shoot up into his hairline. “You think all that frustration and anger you’re feeling is yours ?”
Keith frowns, gaze locked on the dusty horizon. Shiro wipes sweat from his nose before it can drip further down his face. While the had found a decent rockface to use for shade, he’s beginning to think they should find a proper shelter.
“It doesn’t bother you.” The statement is flat and hard, as cold and unforgiving as a winter breeze.
Confusion twists Shiro’s face. “It does.”
“Then act like it!” he roars, arms flung wide and body shaking. His eyes are wide and glinting dangerously as he glares at his soulmate. Shiro scowls and stands, crossing his arms as he towers over the boy.
“Why? So I’ll throw a temper tantrum like you?”
“Yes!” he shouts, the word echoing across the desert. A brief breeze brushes past them, hot and dry as it swirls sand around their feet. Keith’s brow furrows as the conversation catches up to him. “Wait, did you just say I’m throwing a tantrum?”
Shifting his hands to his hips, Shiro’s expression hardens. “Aren’t you?”
“No!”
He clenches his jaw, patience running thin, and quirks a brow. They stare each other down, emotions boiling in a swirling, choking loop. Heat and shallow breaths make Shiro dizzy but he refuses to back down. Keith isn’t faring much better, his body shaking with the effort of keeping still.
Eventually the tension snaps, emotions exploding away until there’s nothing left, and Keith falls to the ground in a shivering heap. He wraps his arms tightly around himself as if it’s the only thing keeping him together. Shiro rocks back on his heels and collapses to his knees, woozy from the sudden loss of feeling. He feels numb, like everything that was inside of him no longer exists. He carefully drops his head into his hands as he attempts to breath deeply. A groan works its way up his throat and reverberates through his skull. Okay, noise bad. Pent-up emotions worse.
Keith shifts, feet twitching in the sand just loud enough to make them both wince. His voice is barely more than a whisper when he asks, “How do you to it?”
Hissing softly, he raises his head just enough to peer at the boy through his fingers. He’s staring at the ground, hunched over like the world is on his shoulders. “Patience,” Shiro replies. “Focus. I’ll admit that I have a bit more experience keeping things in check since I”ve had to deal with an overly curious kid with a taste for experimenting.” Things are slowly trickling back - a heavy wariness, quiet anxiety, trembling fear - to fill the empty void. He feels the beginning of a headache and hopes it doesn’t get too bad. He’d really prefer not getting chewed out by Colleen or Matt today for ‘hurting’ Katie. “But Keith, it takes time . We’re not going to get it right away. And it is a ‘ we ’. We’re in this together so we can’t be competing or fighting with each other every time we hit a roadblock. If one of us doesn’t get it, neither of us will.”
Keith chews on his lip, brows creased and eyes pained. “I… I”m not sure I can do slow.”
He shuffles closer to drop a hand on the boy’s shoulder and smiles gently. “How about we work on that first, then? Patience yields focus so if we take it one step at a time we’ll do this.”
~~
As what usually happens with the advancement of time, things get complicated. Not in any major way, of course, just the way that responsibilities, duties, and relationships always tangle together as a person ages. Keith mellows as he grows though he never quite loses his temper or recklessness. The fire doesn’t dim, only maturing into a roaring blaze that burns steadily within him. While managing their emotions is easier now, a raging undercurrent still festers between them. It flares with Keith’s temper, Shiro’s frustration, with the clash of their personalities as they learn to work together. There’s no way to complete isolate their emotions from each other but it’s easier to separate them now, ignore what they can and filter what they can’t. But Shiro learns more about Keith, about his absent mother and dead father and how he’s never felt completely comfortable in the home of his foster parents. He has no real friends and seems perfectly content to keep it that way.
Katie has finally outgrown her childish clumsiness but not the curiosity that drives everything she does. If anything, age has only seemed to expand it. Now, her insatiable thirst for knowledge is what gets her into trouble more than tripping over her own feet. She’s taken to using a Mark concealer over her Marks as opposed to layers upon layers of cloth. Keith doesn’t seem to particularly care who sees his Marks and Shiro can’t help but be amazed at how different they are. At least Shiro doesn’t get endless amounts of bumps and bruises anymore. But she still has few friends and spends most of her time hold up by herself, with her family, or occasionally vid chatting with him. He worries but there’s little he can do short of forcing her - something, he painfully learned one day, she doesn’t take kindly to. Keith still doesn’t want to meet her, wants to know as little about her as possible and she’s learned to stop asking.
They’re both lonely, he knows, but the only thing he can do is be a part of their lives as much has can.
~~
I’m joining the Garrison,” Keith announces one day, not long after his fourteenth birthday. He stands in the warm rays of sunlight that filter in through the grimy window of the shack they’ve claimed as theirs. They found it a couple years ago when looking for a better place to learn how to control their Connection. The wood is worn soft by the wind and sand and the floor creaks with every shift of weight. Most of the dust has been replaced by rugs and food wrappers. It’s functional, cozy, and theirs .
Shiro grins. “Yeah? Which program?”
“Pilot,” he answers, crossing his arms and looking away. A faint blush blossoms across his cheeks. “I want to be like you.”
Blinking, Shiro leans back against the wall. He knows that he’s a pretty good pilot now given how often his instructors praise him. “I’m flattered,” he says, warmth filling his heart. Keith smiles brightly.
Standing, he crosses the room and rests a hand on his shoulder. “You’ll make a great pilot, Keith.”
From the awe and pride glittering in his eyes as well as the bond, Shrio knows he understands that the sentiment is for so much more.
~~
A few years later, Shiro and the Holts are selected for the Kerberos Mission. Shiro’s been praised as one of the best pilots since graduation and it will be good experience for Matt. With the experienced Commander Holt leading the mission, the Garrison heads see this as an excellent opportunity to test their training and expand the reach of the human race. And if all goes well, further missions will be scheduled in the future to go even farther.
Keith still isn’t ready to meet Katie but he promises to give it a shot when Shiro returns. Katie almost seems to have forgotten about him but he just knows she’s itching to meet her elusive soulmate.
In any case, Shiro says his goodbyes separately and, between him and Matt, neither of them even look in the direction of the other on the day the team leaves.
So Takashi Shirogane flies off into space with proud parents and two eagerly awaiting soulmates.
He can’t wait to tell them about the wonders of space.