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Shiro sees a sudden wave engulf him. The violet sky in the astral plane goes arctic blue. The humming of Black goes muffled. Not before he can panic, the wave retreats.
All of a sudden, he feels the pull of gravity and the nostalgic warmth. He had felt weightless and numb in the astral plane. This is not the astral plane. Thankfully, he is finally somewhere else.
He blinks a few times. Greeting him are watery cosmic eyes, a cute delicate nose, kissable pouty lips, and black hair covering the right cheekbone. He very much wants to curl the hair behind the right ear. And he sees it, a fresh scar hiding behind the black hair. He feels a swell of emotions rushing in his veins -- pain, sadness, anger, realization, self-disgust. He wants to take a closer look at the scar, but the contradicting emotions rise and wash away his visions.
“Shiro, no! Stay with me,” says Keith.
Lightheaded, he finds himself in a hallway that feels similar to those in the Galaxy Garrison. It is not the same though. This hallway is illuminated by some teal triangular lights along the sides. In that respect, it feels more like the castle of lions.
Curious, he walks down the hallway. A wall of golden medals caught his eyes. These could be the awards he won after each record he broke. Strangely, each medal presented here only has one inscription -- “Takashi Shirogane.”
Takashi Shirogane. That is what people call him, or perhaps the Garrison’s golden boy, bright and stunning. People started by counting the number of records he has broken. Gradually they lost count. They started to look at those records that he hasn’t broken instead and took bets on which would come next. What record he has broken was never important. What he tried to prove was never important. What he wanted to achieve was never important.
Yeah. He is an image of perfection.
He doesn’t want to linger anymore on the gold medals. Pride he may feel, but no joy. As he walks away, he notices that he is not the only one in this hallway. There are spirits moving along the hallway too. The one in front of him is particularly lively. He has that goofy smile that reminds him of Lance. He is then bumped by another spirit that is about to pass him on the right. This one has an orange mustache. Shiro cannot help but chuckle. This spirit reminds him of Coran. The Coran-like spirit notices him too. The spirit yells, “Shiro the Hero!” Soon the hallway is swarmed by all shapes of spirits celebrating him, whose faces are not as identifiable as Lance’s or Coran’s.
And that’s when he remembers, he is also an image of hope.
He must be walking down some memory lane. These almost feel like his memories, but not quite. He is never Shiro the Hero. Realization clicks in.
This is Kuron’s mental plane, not his.
“Don’t you ever leave me again,” says Keith. He is desperate. Shiro has left him too many times. Each time the wound only grows larger. Each time the pain only feels more intense. He should have known that Kuron is not Shiro. Then, perhaps, he could have saved Shiro, and he could have saved Kuron.
“What’s going on with Shiro?” He turns towards Allura.
“We need to wait for Kuron’s body to accept Shiro,” says Allura.
“Can’t we do anything to help him?”
“I’m afraid not.”
Taking a firm grip of Shiro’s wrist, Keith leans closer to Shiro and vouches, “I will be here when you are back. I will never give up on you.”
“Kuron.” Thinking of Kuron, he feels outrageous. That thing almost killed his best friend and left a scar on his best friend’s face. That thing foolishly trusted Lotor and almost led the entire team to its demise. That thing forced Keith to leave the team in the first place. These memories sting him even now.
“You are not a hero. You are a monster!” Shiro shouts.
The colorful spirits dissipate. Instead, a huge dark shadow forms in front of him.
“You hurt my best friend.” Feeling determined, Shiro punches towards the shadow. The shadow, however, is incorporeal. Losing his balance, Shiro embraces himself to fall hard on the ground. But that didn’t happen. Instead, the ground breaks and he keeps falling till he falls into some dark goo.
He is no longer in the hallway. The lights here are dimmed and purple. Surrounding him are spectors with yellow eyes, fangs, and pointy ears. They are clamoring for someone loudly.
They are seemingly cheering for their champion and the dark goo is alien blood.
He feels so disgusted. His throat clenches. His stomach constricts. His mind burns and yet his skin chills. He curls himself up. He closes his eyes. Two spectors come and drag him towards a room permeated with an even more violent smell of blood. He doesn’t have the will to fight. He cannot feel smaller. They strap him on a hospital bed.
Be it the golden boy or the hero or a natural leader, those images are what he has worn but never truly represent him. Perhaps, this is the true him. He has killed and killed and killed. He is a monster too. He is just hiding his gruesome form with glorious armor.
He opens his eyes. He is in a gigantic ward with lots of hospital beds. He sees that each bed lies his clone, or him. He no longer knows who is the true Shiro. Perhaps it does not matter. They are all monsters. In front of each bed stands a cape with no one in it.
“You are a perfect weapon,” all of the capes said synchronously. “I am going to reward you with something greater.”
He knows what is to come. One sleeve from the cape is raised. Before the cape takes his right arm away, he sees the shadow lurking behind the cape, the shadow he has encountered in the hallway. The shadow is Kuron.
Out of him and all his clones, Kuron is the one that makes it in the end. He finally understands. They are essentially the same. Fates have played them like they are puppets, but they are defiant. They were burned and scarred and traumatized, but they crawled and crawled and crawled to find an opportunity to fight back. For him, it is to fight against muscular dystrophy and PTSD. For Kuron, it is to fight against Haggar’s mind control.
That understanding is loud and clear. It could have been him who hurt Keith, had he been mind-controlled. When the raised sleeve moves down, he sees Keith’s distressed face showing in the cape. He sees the bloody scar.
Shiro chokes and whimpers.
“You will be okay,” Keith whispers. Keith moves one hand up to gently swipe Shiro’s tears away with his thumb. The other hand releases from gripping Shiro’s wrist and moves to bring Shiro’s hand to cup his scarred cheek. He holds Shiro’s hand like that.
Shiro would never have hurt Keith. Not Shiro. And he would always bring Shiro back whatever misfortune is inflicted on them. The scar is proof.
The bed breaks and he falls again. He falls and falls and falls. Since Kuron is Shiro, he knows what is at the core of Kuron’s mental plane.
Nothingness. He thinks to himself. So many have been killed by him in the Galra Empire’s arena. Conceptually, he understands that he just wanted to live. As a matter of fact, he hardly feels that he was justified, that his life somehow is worth more than those he has taken away. The right arm is now gone, the one that was drenched with blood. Maybe it is a good thing. Now it is more difficult for him to hurt anyone. Now it is more difficult for him to hurt his friends and his team. Now it is more difficult for him to hurt Keith.
And the falling stops. Kuron caught him in the left arm from above.
Kuron has wings, a strong humerus with teal feathers, and he is flying. Shiro is tearful. These are the Black Lion’s wings, the ones that Shiro unlocked by cradling Black with trust. With mutual trust, they confronted their traumas and broke away from Zarkon’s abuse. It was a hard-won victory.
Those are also the wings he helped Keith unlock to race back to their team after Keith decided to cross the universe to get to him; after Kuron/he almost killed Keith; after Kuron/he fell. And Keith was unwilling to let go, choosing him/Kuron over his own life, over the universe, looking fate in the eyes.
Kuron’s grip is firm and his look is unwavering. This was how it happened. He saw it through Black’s eyes when he was trapped in the astral plane, how Kuron fell and Keith saved him. What he is seeing in Kuron now was what Kuron was seeing in Keith -- unfaltering trust and deep understanding.
Shiro looks around. “This is the core of our mental plane?” he asked Kuron. “This is mesmerizing.”
They are surrounded by stars, lots of lots of stars. Shiro can never stop looking at stars, dazzled by how beautiful they are, how timeless they feel, how many lives they nourish, how breathtaking it is when they explode. On a nearby planet, he sees himself saving Matt from being a gladiator. On another planet, he sees himself helping Pidge find her family. On another one, he sees himself telling Keith that he would never give up on him.
Retrospectively, Shiro should have known that this is what his core looks like, not flawless, not monstrous, but all-encompassing. He knew this once, before everything. After everything, it is hard for him now to believe what he is seeing. The true Shiro seems compassionate. He might have been compassionate to others. He looks up at Kuron. He could learn to be compassionate to himself.
“I am sorry to have called you a monster. You tried your best. We tried our best. And now, would you be willing to work on accepting all facets of ourselves, together?”
Shiro opens his eyes.
“Shiro!” says Keith affectingly. He feels tears well up in his eyes. No matter how many times the universe is ripping Shiro away, Shiro will always come back to him.
Shiro looks at Keith softly. “Thank you,” he says, and then he flinches when he notices that his hand is covering Keith’s scar. “I am so sorry.” He almost sobs.
Keith steadily keeps Shiro’s hand on his scar, just as the time when he was waiting for Shiro to wake up. He needs to let Shiro know this.
“You will never hurt me. And I will always save you, as many times as it takes.”
Kuron and Shiro have become one. He has woken up from this new body, with another set of memories. He still does not know what he has done to deserve Keith’s dedication. No, it is not about deserving. It is still very hard to suppress his self-deprivation, but he wants to believe that he will be okay.
“Shiro is awake!” Lance cheers.
“Team Voltron is finally truly reunited!” Hunk is about to cry.
“It is so good to see you again!” says Allura.
Coran is doing some bizarre dancing and making cacophonous noise, which Keith cannot help but frowns at.
“Shiro is not a Yalmor,“ notes Pidge, and then she turns to face Shiro. “But I am so happy to see you again. Both of you, I mean.”
He will be okay.