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“Give me another night.” Keith is tucked in beside Shiro’s warm body, eyes wide and searching, his face lacking even a bit of the anger others seemed to think was permanently etched on his boyish features.
“I’ll try.” Shiro rolls onto his side, burying his nose at the bottom of Keith’s throat, pressing a few kisses along his collarbone.
“No trying.” Violet eyes fixed to the ceiling, half-lidded as he focused on the feeling of the other’s warm lips against his skin.
“It’s the farewell ceremony, I have to go.” Shiro’s chuckles but Keith can hear the hoarseness in his voice, wanting to keep kissing and stop talking.
Yes, the farewell ceremony. The public goodbyes. The one Keith wouldn’t be attending, instead given the option of not watch or enjoy the broadcast. ‘Families and official personnel only.’
“We can have all the nights we want when I come back.”
There’s a silence except for the chirp of crickets from outside the open window, the air humid and warm. Keith can feel the burning in his throat, vision blurring slightly. He shouldn’t have brought it up.
The bed was cold, empty, deserted hours ago; early morning light still barely a shimmer on the horizon; the sky above still inky with a scatter of stars. Where Shiro would be - Is now.
Their goodbyes had been a rush, despite the fact the Keith had stayed up nearly all night, unable to sleep knowing Shiro was going to be getting a few hours later and leaving. He’d managed to close his eyes for only a moment, the alarms blaring what felt like a few seconds later.
Shiro stood in front of their bathroom mirror, hair combed neatly to the side, suit meticulously made. So well put together compared to the mess Keith was. He sat at the edge of the bed, trying to stop his trembling lip by scowling at the Halloween themed rug they’d bought discounted in November.
“Come on, Keith, this feels more like I’m going to a funeral.”
Violet eyes stayed focused on the ugly orange and black of the rug, the smiling jack o'lantern a reminder of the letter Shiro had gotten only six months ago, letting him know he was the chosen candidate for the Kerberos mission.
“Baby, please, don’t cry.”
Cry? Fuck. Keith wasn’t aware the tears he’d been holding back were finally spilling and hurriedly wiped at his face, throat tight and painful feeling,
“I’m not crying, Takeshi.”
Still, Shiro stepped over and a chaste kiss was pressed to his forehead, two warm hands on either side of his cheeks.
“Will you watch the takeoff?”, Shiro’s voice was quiet as he asked.
“Yes.” Keith lied, already knowing he wasn’t going to watch, a mess just watching him get dressed. At least this way he could pretend Shiro was going to walk back in later.
There was a knock at the door, Matt’s tired voice on the other side yelling to alert Shiro that he and his father were ready to go. Keith’s hands came up in a quick beat, grabbing at Shiro’s wrists, eyes wide.
“You were supposed to be here until six thirty, it’s only six.” Keith blurted, his breath stuck in his throat.
“I have to be there by six thirty.” Shiro said gently, brushing his thumbs over Keith’s cheeks, slightly calloused skin scratching at his face.
“Why can’t I go with you?” Keith pleaded, knowing the answer, already protested at multiple times. Just because he wasn’t blood didn’t make him any less family.
“Keith, please, I love you. I’ll be back, it’s not that long.” Shiro’s voice sounded ready to crack.
“It’s two years!” Keith’s voice cracked. They’d had this argument, too many times to count in the last few months.
Shiro squeezed his face a little tighter, leaning in to press a salty kiss to Keith’s mouth before tugging his hands out of the other’s grip.
“Be good, Keith. I’m gonna need a co-pilot when I get back.” Shiro tried to smile, looking more like a grimace.
“Do you promise?” Keith’s hands were still in the air from where he’d been holding Shiro’s, “Promise you’ll come back?”
“Study hard, Keith.” Shiro said, taking Keith’s extended pinky with his own, a promise.
“I will.” Keith rubbed at his eyes again, fresh tears welling there. He’d do his best.
19. Please cite at least three sources of piloting error in the following situation:
Keith’s eyes scanned over the paper for a moment, pausing at the words. Piloting Error. He’d heard that phrase too many times in the last month, since the death of the Kerberos crew. Death. That was another word he had a hard time hearing. It was hard to think of Shiro as anything other than his calm, ready and alive self.
He wasn’t aware his hand was shaking until the pencil dropped, rolling off the desk and onto the floor with a clatter. A boy next to him glanced over, blue eyes giving him a dirty look before he picked up the pencil for him.
Shit. Okay.
Keith reached out, taking the pencil slowly, hand still shaking but he pushed the pencil and hand to his lap before staring down at the exam.
What was even the point of taking it? His grades had tanked this quarter despite being a usually good student. Even his simulation training had been suffering, Iverson questioning his piloting ability loudly to motivate him into doing better.
Shiro, the greatest pilot he’d even known, couldn’t even stop himself from having an error.
What kind of error had it even been? All of it was classified, the death of three people pinned on Shiro.
“Fifteen Minutes left.”
The voice of the teacher startled him into looking down at the answer sheet, almost twenty out of a hundred done in the last forty-five minutes. Yeah, way to go. Doing your best for Shiro.
Keith stood up suddenly, leaving his exam at the desk as he made his way out of the classroom, not bothering with any other questions. He was going to fail anyways, why bother with the rest.
“Mr. Kogane, you can’t leave until the exam is complete.”
Keith ignored her as he stepped out into the hallway, needing to figure out his next steps. Takeshi Shirogane was the greatest pilot he’d ever known. There was no way he could have had an error like that, and how could they have known it was his fault?
Clearance 5S and above only. The bolded letters stared back at Keith for a pained moment before he was pushing past the doors, a stumble from the others on the other side.
“You can’t be in here!”
“No cadets, Kogane.”
“Someone get him out of here!”
His boots stilled, legs heavy like lead as he stared at the group of officers, eyes dark and angry, “What happened to Takeshi and the others?”
There’s a hint of a crack in his words, but Keith Kogane stood his ground, refusing to let this go. He’d either get the answer he needed or find it on his own.