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Keith is usually better at dealing with his classmates’ annoying behavior. He has never once expected them to like him, so he isn’t surprised when they don’t and he prepares accordingly.
He knows how he comes off, how his behavior is perceived even when he tries, so he doesn’t let them get to him. It’s easier usually, when he has exams and tests to focus on and he can sneak out at night to enjoy the calming silence of the desert.
It’s harder today, when there are no examinations in the foreseeable future and a sand storm outside prevents him from leaving the Garrison’s property.
Staying in his room will only worsen his mood; agitation and irritability simmer under his skin and every part of him yearns to release some pent-up energy and stress. He has been sitting on his bed for almost twenty minutes, trying to read a book to distract himself, but it’s not working.
Keith remembers about the training simulation after a while. He usually avoids it, doesn’t really feel the need to try even more sims when he just wants to fly the real thing, but it’s popular with other cadets. It’s completely identical to the one used in every Aviation and Tactical Maneuvers exam with adjustable difficulty, and it’s notoriously used to prepare for them.
It has been closed off for a while, undergoing some repairs after one student had hacked into the mainframe so that the simulation didn’t register the name of the student undergoing the scenario but a nickname—it seemed to be a strange modification to make, but everyone knew that professors had a bad habit of checking up students’ simulation scores and use them to scale their vote at the end of the exam.
From what Keith hears, the simulation has been reopened recently when the Garrison had realized that removing the feature would have required too much money.
While he had never really found the idea of retaking basically the same test he had passed on the first try particularly engaging, he thinks it might beat staying in his room. The thought of it lingers in his mind and while he tries to think about something else he could do, he soon finds himself out the door.
Galaxy Garrison is eerily silent after curfew and it’s easy for Keith to sneak around to the west side of the student barracks, where the simulation room is situated. Forcing the door to the room is easy, even for someone with his level of hacking skills.
The room is bare, with a single shuttle in the middle of it. It’s big enough for three or four crewmen, but Keith knows there is a setting for solo missions. He doesn’t hesitate now, walking quickly to the pilot seat and activating the simulation. He fiddles one second with the commands, but he's not in the mood to read the settings so he starts almost immediately.
It's easy, at that point, to lose himself to the motions.
Even in a simulation, if Keith focuses enough, he can imagine to be really in the air with only stars and planets for company. The reason why he loves flying, why his dream is to, one day, lose himself in the stars, is that his problems seem incredibly small compared to the vastness of the entire universe.
Soon he forgets why he was angry.
In the end, Keith doesn't have a lot of problems completing the simulation, considering he had passed the exams with one of the highest scores in Garrison’s history. He even beats his previous score, going faster and with less insecurities outside of the test.
When the screen flashes with successful landing , he relaxes, exhaling and closing his eyes. Maybe it's not what Keith had in mind when the night started, but he has to admit that he feels better now.
The only problem he has now is putting down a name to record his score: he can't let anyone know it was him, since he's out of his room way after curfew.
He thinks for a second before putting down two words and leaving, satisfied.
Keith wakes up the next day with reinvigorated energy; he feels focused and happy and he attends class with less dread than usual—even the dull tones of Dr Harril and his Geology 101 feels bearable.
By lunchtime Keith is already thinking of making his trips to the simulation a lot more frequent when the whispers start.
"Who is Space Ace?" the other cadets ask. "Have you seen the new score on the dummy simulation?" some others wonder, with awe. Keith doesn't even look at them.
He's not doing this to be recognized; a part of him likes the secrecy of it, the knowledge that no one will be able to judge him for doing good .
For four days, he listens in as the story of Space Ace becomes every day more exaggerated and ignores the theories over his identity with a chuckle. The entire student population seems to be in a frenzy over it, but Keith knows it's just a passing gossip. In less than a week everyone will tire and Keith will just continue his life like he's doing now.
On the fifth day Keith enters the mess for breakfast and there are even more whispers. They are louder, a little more excited and certainly more vigorous than the day before, almost as if someone had given fuel to the fire.
It takes him until lunch to catch the end of a conversation and hear 'who do you think is Galaxy God? '. Twenty minutes later he finally hears someone say, "I mean, how could he beat Space Ace's score?".
Keith can't help but be surprised. He has never been one for modesty. He likes to face the facts and the hard truth, and as much as it makes him sound like an asshole: he knows no one of his fellow cadets can beat him. Some are more technically capable than him, he knows, but they don't have the talent and the piloting ability to back it up.
And yet, if what he's hearing it's right, someone has beaten his score not even a week later.
It's... exhilarating. And infuriating at the same time.
Competition is an unknown variable, something he didn't really think he would have. It's unsettling, but also invigorating.
He lets the rest of the conversation pass him by and starts walking. Before he knows he's in front of the simulation room, looking at the score panel.
Space Ace's score is the same as what he had left it, but it's now in second position. Galaxy God's name thrones over it with a surplus of almost 20 points.
Keith knows he can beat it: he can go faster, he can push harder.
Winning has never been an important factor in his life, but the need to prove himself, the desire to excel thrives inside of him.
That night, three hours after curfew, Keith sneaks outside of his room again and defeats Galaxy God's score on the second try.
It feels good, like a jolt of electricity coursing through his veins. He has been acting almost on auto-pilot, driven only by the need to beat the score, so much so that now he feels unprepared in front of the registration screen.
He could put Space Ace again, make sure everyone knows that he has reclaimed the first position, but there's a new part of him that wants to... gloat, just a little bit.
Keith hesitates again, his hands hovering on the keys and he wonders if maybe he's pushing too much. In the end, he realizes, he doesn't even care.
'How It's Done' the board reads now, with a lead of 14 points.
Keith goes back to his bed with a smile.
He waits for a couple of days, trepidation palpable, but no one beats his score, nor there seem to be any weird names in the rankings. So much time passes that Keith starts to think that it had been a fluke, maybe someone had just been lucky.
After five days, he stops waiting for something to happen. It had been fun, something a little different in the monotony of life at the Garrison, but now it’s over. During the day, he still visits the simulation room getting back from class glancing at the scoreboard to see if Galaxy God has tried anything, but the first three position stay the same.
On the seventh day, Keith’s patience for Survive in Space, one of the required books for Professor Timmons’ class, has reached new lows. He knows it is an important course and that, while the possibilities of actually surviving a crash landing in space are slim, basic survival skills are required of a good pilot. At the same time, he does not care now how to recognize the composition of soil on touch and taste .
Keith needs to distract himself, take his mind off the middle of the year test and focus on something else. What he really wants to do, as always, is run . Go as fast as he can and for as long as he can. He will have to settle for something less time consuming.
The simulation seems like a safe bet, and as always reaching the room undetected is almost too easy.
He doesn’t glance immediately at the scoreboard, since he had already checked on it that morning before going to class. Instead he goes directly into the shuttle. He sits down on the chair and starts the simulation before he finally looks at the scoreboard.
'Nice Try L2F' reigns over the other scores. His mystery challenger, because Keith knows it's the same person, had not only surpassed his score, but defeated it with an incredible lead.
Forty points more than what Keith score had been is not something that anyone in the school could do—actually it's something that no one in his year would ever be able to do, possibly no one of his seniors either.
Keith looks, shocked and electrified and feels the thrum of the challenge. His boredom flies away immediately and for a second he settles in the seat and breathes.
The next moment he gets to work.
Keith doesn't defeat Galaxy God's score immediately. In fact, it takes a lot more tries than he's proud of. In the meantime, the school is full of gossips.
Every day Keith can see the number of cadets gathering in the simulation room, talking about the incredible last score and speculating about the identity of the contestants. Keith hears his own name thrown around a couple of times, while other think that the Captains are making this practical joke to get back at the student for the hack.
Once, strangely enough, he hears a senior who has been laughing for five minute straight before reading out loud Galaxy God's latest nickname " Learn to fly ," he says, snickering, "what a dork."
All in all, it takes him over a week. Keith knows he's a great pilot, but he also knows his best qualities are his instincts and his speed, he has never tried to focus on technique before. And yet, he must now.
To gather more points the simulation requires the pilot to test himself against some other challenges. It grants bonus points for keeping the same speed and pacing in the curves. It gives points for the angle of the landing, the speed you approach the planet with and a lot of other stuff Keith has never paid attention to.
When he finally beats Galaxy God's score he knows that this exercise is making him better as a pilot, more than some of his courses, and he thinks it might have been done on purpose.
He still doesn't know the identity of Galaxy God, even if he has his suspicions, but he finds that he enjoys this little anonymous game.
It's also rather amusing hearing his fellow classmates laugh at his last chosen nickname: 2cool 4school.
As it's obvious the situation soon gets out of hand and the faculty gets wind of their little challenge.
The entire student body gets summoned to the auditorium, where Iverson delivers an angry speech about respecting school property and violating rules.
No one actually listens to him, too busy looking at everyone else in hopes of understanding the identities of the two contenders. Even Keith finds himself looking around, curious.
"If the culprits don't step forward," Iverson screams at the end, red in the face, "we'll have to take serious measures."
A moment of silence passes through the room. Keith knows he's not going to confess, but for a second he fears his rival will. If he does then this little game will be over, and Keith finds himself sad at the idea.
The only one to talk, in the end, is Takashi Shirogane. Everyone knows who he is, even if he hasn't been attending normal classes in over a year—he is now in the early stages of preparation for actual space travel and doesn't spend much time in the Garrison anymore.
"Is that really necessary?" he asks, bold and sure, with the ease of someone who is used to diplomacy and using it to obtain what he wants. "It's just a friendly competition. I think it could be healthy."
Iverson looks baffled by the interruption, angry at being contradicted, but not even he can attack a legend like Takashi Shirogane directly.
"It is against school policies to use our machinery for..." he starts, but Shirogane interrupts him immediately.
"Using it to improve their abilities is precisely why the simulations were given to them, right?" he corrects with a convincing smile, "I think it's incredible that cadets still in training have achieved such outstanding scores, don't you, Sir?"
The silence that follows his statements it's terse, almost deadly. Iverson doesn't know how to react, but Keith can see most of his professors laughing stealthily at the situation, almost as if Iverson was the only one really annoyed at this little competition.
"We could even say," Shirogane continues, "that these people might be the best pilots of their generation. I don't remember scores this high in a long time." In fact, Keith is sure that the previous record for Aviation and Tactical Maneuver had been set by Shirogane himself during his own examination.
In the end one of the older Captains takes the stage and smiles, "Well, while we do not condone breaking the rules, we do not find anything wrong with a little bit of sane friendly competition. Dismissed."
The entire student body starts leaving, but Keith stays where he is, looking at Shirogane smiling and talking with some of his older professors.
His suspicion settles in his gut, but Keith doesn't do anything to confirm it. Afraid of what it would mean if it was proven correct.
The next day when he sees that 'GB Ready ToEnjoy' has, once again, beaten his score, he smiles.
"Golden Boy," he murmurs out loud, knowing now who he's been flying against all this time. He lets the knowledge settle in his mind, and wonders if maybe he should give the other a clue as well.
His next score reads 'BestPilot of ThisGeneration' and he doesn't regret it one bit.
After that their nicknames become crazier and crazier, and Keith starts trying to beat the other’s score by as little as possible so that they don’t risk maxing the possible points. He feels happy when he sees that Shirogane had beaten his last score by two points, almost as if the other has decided to get on board with Keith’s plan.
‘Pilot ofur DreamSims’ Shiro writes and Keith almost laughs out loud when he reads it.
‘Grand Theft Accelerator’ Keith writes down the next time, and hopes the other gets it.
His days settle on a routine: every morning he passes in front of the simulation room to check the scores. If a new addition has been added to the rankings, he spends the next week or so trying his best to beat it.
He gets better, little by little. His flying skills improve with each passing day, and he achieves higher scores with ease. At the same time, he studies more, makes sure he has his nights free in case he needs to go to the simulation.
Keith wonders sometimes what had pushed Shirogane to beat his first score, or to play along all this time. A part of him thinks he did it to show that he was still the best, another part of him thinks that maybe, just like Keith himself, Shiro just needed something to feel alive occasionally.
It’s why, even if Keith knows now who he’s challenging, he still avoids Shirogane in the corridors. When their gazes meet they hold them for a second before turning their heads, but they never talk. Keith isn’t sure he would even want to.
People skills have never been his forte, but he likes the relationship they have now, this little game they are playing. It makes him feel close to someone without any of the emotional investment or the insecurities.
If it was up to Keith, they would never stop.
Keith hears the whispers in the corridors; knows what the other students think of him. Most days it really doesn’t bother him, some other times he wonders if there is really something wrong in how he acts.
He tries to stay mostly out of their way; he does his work, attends his classes and tries his best. There is nothing else for him beside this, no second chance or other possibility. He has to do this, he has to become a pilot, because out there there’s only an empty house waiting for him.
The fact that the other students are jealous is evident, but he doesn’t understand why . He thinks he would prefer to have a family more than good grades.
But he also doesn’t lay in wait of the day where his classmates like him, but he also didn’t expect them to try and sabotage him.
He gets called into Professor Boldegar’s room, one day, and he already knows the situation is serious. Three of his classmates stand on one side of the office and his professor looks at him, with an hard face.
“Cadet, yesterday some training equipment was stolen from the gym. Your classmates said they saw you near the facility last night,” the professor relays to him. He looks contrite, but stern.
Keith immediately knows where this is going. He had walked in front of the gym yesterday, since the best route to arrive to the simulation room passes through there. He also knows that he had avoided being caught on all the security cameras. They don’t have proof, in theory, but his three classmates make this more difficult.
He recognizes them, all competing with him to take Fighter Class next semester– he has basic combat strategy with them, if he remembers correctly – and he thinks that one of them is the second best of their class. He also knows they have an exam soon, and while this could be resolved soon, it would still make the exam more difficult for him, if not force the school to suspend him for a while.
It’s their word against his, and Keith has never been good at making people believe in him.
“Now, I understand this is a delicate matter, but we need to make the necessary investigations and in the meantime we can’t allow you to-“ a knock on the door interrupts the professor’s and the whole room turns back to lock at it.
When it opens Takashi Shirogane enters the room, with a serious expression but a confident walk.
It’s a surprise, seeing him here, but the most surprising thing for Keith is to realize he doesn’t want Shirogane to believe this story. He had been ready to comply, not even try and defend himself—the situation would be dropped once they saw he didn’t have the equipment—but now he wants to deny. He wants to snarl that he’s innocent and being set up.
“Shirogane,” the professor calls him, surprised, “did we have an appointment?”
The other man just shakes his head. “I’m sorry to be barging in like this, but I was just informed by a friend of the situation. And I wanted to make sure we didn’t lose precious time with innocent people instead of catching the real thief.”
It’s obvious that Shirogane’s word surprises everyone, Keith included. Shirogane believes him? Why?
“We have witnesses that place the Cadet in front of the gym. He’s the only suspect we have,” the professor pushes, and Keith turns back towards him, ready to actually say something—probably a curse, even if that might make the situation worse.
“He’s not a suspect at all,” Shirogane says, however, beating Keith to the punch, “since he was with me yesterday. We were training in the simulation room, and then I escorted him to his own room.”
No one speaks for a second. Even Keith looks speechlessly at Shirogane. He can’t believe that the other would lie for him. He had been in the simulation room yesterday, as the new score in the leaderboard (signed “ToPluto andBack in1sim”) demonstrate, but he could have easily stolen the equipment on the way back to his room.
Shirogane is sticking his neck out for nothing.
“You mean…” the professor says, before his mouth takes an angry shape. “Cadets, leave us. I need to talk to Shirogane in private.”
His three classmates, still too shocked by the unexpected turn of events, comply immediately, almost running out of the office. Keith hesitates.
He wants to stay and defend Shirogane from whatever mess he’s gotten himself into, but he isn’t sure how to do that. For once, he curses his inability to navigate social situation. Maybe if he was better at talking to people, if he was better at making friends…
Shirogane turns towards him at that point and smiles, something meant to comfort Keith. “It’s all right, Keith,” he says, “go. Everything will be fine.”
Keith isn’t sure if he’s more surprised by the calm and confident tone the other is using, or by the fact that it seems Shirogane actually knows his name and uses it like they have been friends all along. The professor shoots Keith an annoyed look, then, so he doesn’t have any other choice but to leave Shirogane and exit the room.
Once out he waits for ten minutes in front of the closed door, wondering what to say. Should he say something? Does Shirogane even want to talk with him? Their arrangement before had worked on mutual avoidance. He doesn’t know what to do now.
He also fears that this means the end of their bizarre training sessions, and the sadness and disappointment that overcomes him distracts him from noticing the door opening again.
Shirogane stands there, looking surprised that Keith is still here —well that makes two of them, then. He closes the door quickly, and smiles tentatively.
Keith knows he should say something, since he hasn’t said anything all this time, but he doesn’t know what. He should thank him. He should ask for an explanation. Instead he doesn’t say anything.
Shirogane looks unsure for a second and Keith fears what may come next. Will he be angry? But Keith had never asked to stick his neck out for him; sneaking in the middle of the night was a risk he had taken into consideration when he had started this. He had been sneaking out all the time for other reasons anyway.
“Do you want to eat something?” Shirogane says in the end. Keith blinks twice, trying to make sure he has heard correctly. It seems surreal, like anything else that has happened in the last thirty minutes.
“Yes. Okay,” he says in the end, because whatever this is, he owes Shirogane at least an entire meal in the mess hall.
Shirogane orders a coffee full of sugar and cream that he insists on paying himself, he even tries to pay for Keith’s order but that’s where Keith draws the line.
He still hasn’t thanked him, he realizes, and they’ve been sitting in silence at this table for the past five minutes. So what he obviously say is: “You didn’t have to do that.”
The other looks surprised for a second, and Keith regrets his inability to actually convey what he wants to say, so he amends. “What I mean,” he tries, forcing the words out of his mouth, “was thank you but I would have handled it.”
He in’t sure if this is better, but at least there was a thank you somewhere.
“Someone would say,” Shirogane says, “that I should have known better so it was my responsibility. You’re the cadet, I should have stopped this.” There’s a slight twinkle in his eyes, however, something that speaks of mischief. “But the main point was that they can’t do that much to me and I know you didn’t take the equipment.”
“How?” he asks. It comes out more aggressive than he wanted, but there must be something fishy here. No one is just this nice and trusting of Keith.
“I was at the simulation yesterday. I didn’t want to spy, I thought maybe we could actually talk,” the other explains, with a little chuckle, “but then you were already inside and I—I just liked watching you fly.”
For some strange reason Keith feels the need to blush. He covers it up, looks back down at his own coffee and tries to make sense of all of this. “Why—“ he starts, coughing a little to cover the strange tone of his voice, “why did you play along with it. I mean, you could have just beat my score and sign your name of it if you wanted to.”
Shirogane seems to think about it a second, drinking some of his coffee. “I knew who you were before seeing that score. I mean, there have been a lot of rumors about you, and how talented you are,” he doesn’t say it with the jealousy some people have in their voice, or with the little tingle of resentment. He says is like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
“So I was curious. I looked at some of your exams,” Shirogane continues, sending him a guilty look, “a breach of privacy I know. This was last year, and I thought that you were good, an incredible raw talent. Not that much control.”
Keith startles, surprised. It’s the first time someone had actually commented on it with such honesty. His professors tell him sometimes that he needs to learn to control himself if he wants to go somewhere, but they usually talk about his stubbornness. And it’s a something he has noticed in these two months, trying to beat Shirogane’s scores.
“Then I saw the score and I knew it had to be you, because no one else is even coming close to those numbers, but you still had the same problems from a year ago, and I thought that maybe no one was teaching you what you needed,” he explains, stirring the rest of his coffee. “It was a little presumptuous, I guess.”
And it is, hearing it like this. But it’s also right. Keith had always learned better by doing, facing something head on and overcoming it. He wants to say that he appreciates it, a part of him wants to say that this challenge has become the best part of his life at the Garrison. He doesn’t.
After a beat Shirogane admits, quietly, “also I was having fun, and that hasn’t happened very often lately.”
It seems to be a confession, something he’s a little ashamed to admit. But Keith feels the admission warm him from the inside. Because Keith feels the exact same way.
He knows they can’t continue as they have been. Shirogane has probably already gotten in enough trouble for it, and it doesn’t feel like it would be the same, now that they are talking. But he doesn’t want this to stop.
So he doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t overthink it when he says, “We could train together. Study. Or something. Fly sometimes.” He’s ready to do anything, if he’s being honest with himself.
Shirogane looks surprised, as if he had thought Keith would be offended at his admission, but after one second he smiles again. An expression that makes him look like a little kid.
“I would love that. I… Yeah. I mean, I’m not always on campus but,” he stops then and shrugs, “I have to show you that I can still kick your ass.”
“Bring it on, Shirogane,” he replies, happy.
“Call me Shiro,” Shiro says with a wink.
After that things change, but not in a bad way.
Shiro is as busy as he had said he was, but he also seems to make time for Keith whenever he can, rushing from a meeting or a class. It makes Keith feel important .
They don’t always train in the simulation now, they branch out a bit and Shiro seems to like tutoring him on some of the harder classes. He always makes a game out of it, some challenge for Keith to overcome.
Keith also starts to understand that as much as Keith needs this, Shiro needs it as well. He doesn’t have many friends, in fact he seems to be kind of a loner in his own right. He also puts too much pressure on himself and he seems to always be too on edge.
Shiro is also a lot less patient than Keith thought; he doesn’t know when to rest and pushes himself until he needs to sleep for a day straight in his room. He has terrible eating habits, and he always arrives late. And it seems that everything Keith discovers about him only helps making him even more likeable in Keith’s eyes.
These feelings are new and scary for Keith, who never learnt to let people in, much less have them become irreplaceable.
So he agonizes over it for weeks, wonders if he should do something but always stops himself. He remembers the other students thinking that their little simulation challenge had been a way of flirting, and the raw hope that overcomes him when he thinks that—that maybe Shiro had been flirting—is almost enough to make him try .
He doesn’t, stops himself before kissing Shiro; before taking his hand; before asking him to go and eat something together. He stops himself so much it almost becomes second nature to act in a certain way towards Shiro, careful and guarded in fear of letting his feelings out.
So much so that one day Shiro asks him, concern clear on his face: “Have I done something wrong?” He looks scared, a little self-conscious, and Keith never want to make him look like that ever again.
“What? No!” He rushes to say, but he knows he owes him an explanation. Shiro isn’t stupid, he must have noticed Keith’s behavior and jumped to the wrong conclusion. But he doesn’t know what to say; he has never excelled at words , a little too tricky, never clear enough. In the end, he just repeats: “you’ve done nothing wrong,” and hope it works.
The worst thing is that it does, Shiro lets it go because he knows Keith doesn’t like to talk about things. He should be happy that he managed to defuse the situation, but dissatisfaction claws at his throat.
That night, unable to sleep, Keith slips out of his room after curfew. He hasn’t done this in a long time, ever since he and Shiro has started being friends in the open.
His feet bring him to the simulation on their own accord and he looks at the scoreboard, unchanged in all these weeks. It had been easier then, when this had only been a fun challenge. But he doesn’t want to go back, values the moments spent with Shiro far too much for that.
In the end, Keith does the only thing that helps when he feels stuck and he flies. He opens up the simulation, takes control of the shuttle and flies . He puts all of his focus on it, using all the techniques Shiro has been teaching him.
He beats the last score by a little margin and his fingers hover on the keyboard for three entire minutes before he decides what to write.
Keith feels nervous and raw, but a sense of peace overcomes him. He looks up at the scoreboard where ‘Dinner Tonight?’ blinks from the first position.
Now he just has to wait for Galaxy God to see it.