Chapter Text
He finds his salvation is a crisp envelope, holding a piece of paper folded three times.
His heart skips beats as he rereads the letter for the fifth, tenth, twentieth time, fingers slowly tightening to crumple the paper slightly. He lets out a small sob because for once in his fifteen years of existence he, Keith Kogane, is going to be more than the resident temperamental orphan. For once in his life, he sees the gateway that leads him away from the crowded orphanage, away from the small-minded people, and into his own as a pilot for the Galaxy Garrison.
When Keith lets out the breath he’d been holding, he feels lighter than he ever has.
xxx
It takes one train and three city buses to get him to the bus designated for the Garrison. Though he’s as excited as every kid sitting around him, the nervous pang in his stomach forces him to silence, staring out his window numbly as scenery flies past is unseeing eyes.
He had hated attending school for years prior to learning of the Garrison. His childhood fascination with stars and the solar system grew into a passion that filled his being with wonder at the idea of anything being out there. His love manifested itself into a goal to qualify for scholarships so he could attend the school, sure that he wouldn’t have the money to pay for it otherwise in his wildest dreams. His hard work had payed off in the end, landing him a full ride to the start of his future.
After a long bus ride surrounded by talkative young teens, the shuttles occupants filed out to start the lengthy registration process, pre-filled out paperwork that had been mailed to them weeks prior and suitcases grasped in their hands. Keith’s mind was absent as went station-to-station, answering questions every now and then. Before he knew it, he was given two sets of keys: one for his dorm and one for the communal showers located at the end of the hall. An officer gathered the new cadets that had finished registration and led them to the first year wing, unleashing them to match the number on their ID with the numbers printed on the doors.
Keith made it to his dorm before his roommate did, taking his time to unpack his few belongings – all fitting into his forest green backpack he had previously used for school. He wandered around the room, fingers grazing the walls and furniture. It looked like each side was mirrored, a bed, desk, and dresser pushed to one side and a matching set pushed to the other. He walked up to his dresser, running his hand over before grabbing the black handle of a drawer. He opened the top drawer and looked inside, seeing several copies of the garrison uniform jacket, and a quick glance revealed white tee shirts and the uniform pants in the remaining two drawers. A note taped to the top of the short dresser said that uniforms were to be worn starting tomorrow and would be enforced during classes and meals.
Keith glanced at the digital clock placed on his roommate’s desk, matching the one on his, before crossing back to his bed. He hesitantly pulled his dagger from the bottom of his bag, eyeing it as he gently lifted the hem of his pillowcase, slipping it between the pillow and white fabric. His hand lingered on the hilt before slipping away, turning to explore the building.
xxx
Class work was draining for Keith, though he would study for hours if it meant he got ten minutes in the flight simulator.
He found relaxation in the control panels and levers, so much that the annoying chatter of his test crew weren’t enough to pull one of his infamous mood swings out of him. Actually, now that he thought about it, his anger fits have been few and far between since he’d gotten his acceptance letter from the Garrison. It makes him smile softly, cracking a soft joke to himself about how they should’ve just shipped him off sooner instead of making him sit through hours of anger control sessions and therapy.
Despite his love for the simulator, he knows that the teachers constant groaning about how talent for flight means nothing if you don’t pass your classes. He spends all his time in his room or in the library on the rare occasion that his roommate occupies the small space that still manages to be much larger than his old room at the orphanage. His desk is stacked with books and papers, chaotically sorted with unfinished assignments on the right and ones he’d yet to start on the right. Professors don’t often hand out graded papers, though the ones he does receive go into a folder he keeps in the drawer of his desk, littered with red A’s and B’s.
He gets stares from the other cadets often, a few even asking him how he was so gifted with flying and class work despite looking like a member of a child gang. He never knows how to answer them, unsure if it’s a genuine question or insult, so he always shrugs and turns away, even if his destination is past them.
When he thinks about it, Keith comes to the conclusion that he’s a talented flyer and dedicated student because he looks like a gang member. Years of being passed up during adoptions due to looking too rowdy and having too much of a temper made Keith’s ambition to prove them wrong only grow, and the last ten years spent in a cramped orphanage with rude kids dulls in comparison at the chances he has right before his eyes.
xxx
He meets Takashi Shirogane a few months into his first year, but knows of him long before that.
Mr. Shirogane is the eighteen-year-old genius pilot that floated his way to the top much quicker than anyone before him ever did. He’s the shining example of what every cadet should strive to be, as well as proof that hard work does pay off. He’s the picture of poise, all polite smiles and soft-spoken demands and questions. He watches over some of the first year cadet’s classes, though it’s said that he frequents the other years more often.
In all honesty, his constant presence around the Garrison only continues to put Keith on edge. He can feel the gazes lingering on his back from the observation deck after successful simulator sessions, quick glances up confirming that a few upper level Garrison officials stand there, Shirogane among them, watching as he walks to the back of the group to wait out the remainder of the class hour alone.
Which is what he is when he meets Shirogane, alone. It’s mandatory for first and second year cadets to eat meals in the Union, but there are not enough tables for all of them and Keith has long since grown uncomfortable with sitting at a table with complete strangers, especially when they start asking him odd questions, like about his family and ‘preference’, what ever that means.
That’s why he started hiding out in his room during the hour given to cadets for each meal, always arriving to the Union first and grabbing whatever he can quickly fit in his bag without being seen and slipping out during the mad rush of cadets filling the area. Though an official or one of the guards around the Garrison has never stopped him, he has a lie formulated anyways. His planning comes in handy when everyone’s favorite poster boy stops him, and he curses himself for getting sloppy in his retreat. After weeks of getting away with it, he must have assumed that focus wasn’t really on him.
Shirogane’s hand is planted firmly on his shoulder, and Keith has to fight against the instinct to brush it off dismissively. He paused mid step, using the momentum that was going to go into in to turn himself around slowly to regard Shirogane with a blank stare.
“Mr. Shirogane,” he says, hoping that respect is enough to get him out of this situation.
Shirogane’s brow twitches slightly, lips pulled into a faint frown as he looks at the cadet in front of him. Keith knows that he’s shorter than the average at the Garrison, but it still takes all his willpower to not huff as Shirogane tips his head down further to be able to meet Keith’s eyes, the aching in his neck at keeping his head angled up to match his gaze letting itself be known.
“Cadet,” he starts slowly, as if unsure how to proceed, “Where are you going?”
Keith lifts his opposite shoulder slightly, enough to catch the taller man’s attention and bring it to the strap of his backpack. “I was going to drop my bag off at my dorm before I went to lunch. I forget to go right after class dismissal sometimes, so I often lag behind everyone else on my way to the Union.”
Throughout his lie, Shirogane has lifted on of his brows in disbelief as he stares down at Keith. “By ‘sometimes’ do you mean everyday? I walk past you on my way to the Union everyday but I never see you come back in.”
Keith’s jaw tightens as the familiar curl of annoyance drifts through his body. He bites his tongue before he can snap back, standing in silence.
“I also never see you during breakfast, and during dinner you duck in then duck out so fast I only catch a glimpse,” he pauses, staring at the guarded expression Keith has on his face. “I promise I’m not purposely watching you, I’m just in charge of monitoring the new cadets meal times.” He gives a soft laugh before dropping his hand from Keith’s shoulder. “So, where are you going? We can pretend that your previous answer wasn’t said if you tell me the truth this time.”
The flicker of annoyance sparks into a low thrum of anger, and Shirogane has to be stupid to think that Keith doesn’t recognize that tone, the kind you use with an unruly child to coax them into giving you what you want. He doesn’t want to answer, he wants to turn his back and sprint down the hall, so talk to him with that same condescending voice that always threw Keith into a rage far faster than the taunts of his classmates growing up.
He doesn’t, though. Keith knows that his scholarship was granted to him on the agreement to keep up his grades, prove to be an asset for the Garrison, and to stay out of trouble. Keith knows enough of Shirogane’s rank that yelling at him in the middle of the hall after being caught breaking a rule – despite it being a small, unimportant one – would not end well for him.
So he straightens his back and looks Shirogane in the eyes. “I’m going to my room, sir,” he says, voice cold though still grasping at the undertone of respect.
“Why?”
The agitation is building and Keith can feel his ears growing red. “I study during meals.”
Shirogane cocks another eyebrow, pursing his lips. “That must be lonely, why don’t you eat with your friends?” Keith gives him a flat stare and he dips his head in understanding. “Ah, okay. Well, have fun,” he says, turning quickly on his heel to head towards the Union. Keith sputters, anger extinguishing faster than it ever has as he stands there baffled.
“Am I… not in trouble?” he asks hesitantly. Shirogane brushes him off with a wave of his hand.
“I can’t very well tell you to stop studying and to go to lunch, and you seem like the type to just get sneakier about it if I do. The only one you can possibly hurt by doing this is yourself, and you seem fine enough.” He stops at the end of the hall, right before the Union’s doors, to regard Keith with a smile. “Just promise you’ll try harder to make friends.”
Before Keith can offer a retort, the Union doors open and close and Shirogane is gone and he’s free to travel back to his room, though he walks in a bit of a haze as he thinks over his conversation with the Garrison’s golden boy.