Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Keith couldn’t believe Shiro had seen through him so easily.

He’d tried to hide it—he really had, and he’d thought he’d been doing a pretty good job of it. He didn’t snap at anyone or brush them off. He didn’t even push back when Lance made a remark about how his mullet had somehow grown even worse while he was off with the blades—but, according to Shiro, that had been his first clue. The second was when Shiro went to give Keith his obligatory ‘welcome back’ hug as he exited his pod, and Keith clung onto him for a considerably longer time than he usually did. The third clue had come now, when it had already been over two days and all Keith had done since he’d come back was hide in his room or train himself to exhaustion, alone.

Now that he’d been caught out, Keith’s face was flaming red in embarrassment, indignation, and a fair amount of shame. God—what the fuck was wrong with him? He couldn’t believe Shiro had gotten him to admit to this—again. He’d been doing so well—it’d been almost a year since he’d even thought about it.

This would’ve been the most mortifying conversation Keith had ever experienced if he hadn’t already had a similar one with the older paladin at the Garrison nearly three years ago.

“You’re jealous of the preschoolers at the blade base.” Shiro said. It wasn’t a question.

Keith could only hang his head in shame. That was all the answer Shiro needed.

It was so stupid—but it was true. Keith had been doing so good for such a long time—being constantly surrounded by war on all fronts could really occupy a person’s mind. It took up a lot of space in his life. There wasn’t time to act like a child when he was supposed to be defending the universe.

Keith had been like this his whole life. He didn’t know why. He was embarrassed and ashamed of it, but that hadn’t stopped him from acting on it for the first time at the Garrison when he’d finally had a room all to himself. Had privacy for the first time in his life. He’d maybe gone a little overboard back then—but he’d been suppressing the urge for years, and it was just so…comforting.

Something about it just felt right to him. It made him feel safe, for once. Protected. Good. It gave him a sense of warmth that had been missing from his life for a very long time. It was the greatest coping mechanism for stress Keith had ever had, and now he could finally use it.

It was just his luck that Shiro ended up walking in on him one night, sitting on the floor of his dorm in the softest pair of pajamas he owned, coloring in a crude picture he’d drawn of him and Shiro flying into space together on a rocket ship, and nursing a too-small pacifier he’d pocketed on his way out of his last foster home. It was simultaneously the worst and best night of his life.

It was the worst because he’d nearly burst into tears at the shocked look on Shiro’s face when he’d barged in, and then there was the fact that he had to explain to someone—someone he actually looked up to—what the hell was wrong with him. But Keith didn’t really have an explanation. He didn’t know why acting like a little kid made him feel so nice inside. But he didn’t want to stop—it was one of the only things in Keith’s life that gave him any sense of safety and security, and it was something he could control. He begged Shiro not to tell anybody. Begged him not to think Keith was weird and leave him behind like everyone else. Keith didn’t know what he would do if he did.

But Shiro, as kind and earnest as he ever was, had been not-so-surprisingly open minded. He knew Keith had had a less than ideal childhood, to put it mildly. He’d had to grow up so fast. Too fast. The more Shiro thought about it, the more it seemed to make sense in his head. Of course Keith would feel like this—his childhood had been rife with hardship and abandonment. It wasn’t hard to understand. If Keith had decided somewhere along the line that he wanted to relive his youngest years in a different way—a way that was gentler and kinder and more appropriate for him—Shiro wanted to support that. Keith deserved the world in his eyes. If he wanted to redo his childhood, then Shiro wanted to help. He wanted to make sure that this time around, Keith would be safe, and supported, and loved like he always should’ve been. And in all honesty, it was nice to see the younger boy treating himself with so much care, for once. It almost pained Shiro how distressed Keith was because he thought the older man would think of him as some kind of freak. It was quite the opposite.

And that was why it had also been one of the best days of Keith’s life. From there on out, he wasn’t alone anymore. That wasn’t to say there weren’t bumps in the road, or that Keith was immediately comfortable with letting Shiro into that part of his life. It took time. Sometimes Keith still felt ashamed about this part of himself, or guilty. Sometimes he felt like he was burdening Shiro, like he was making the older man take care of him when he asked if he wanted to come over certain days. Really, that couldn’t have been farther from the truth. In fact, Shiro wished Keith had come to him more often back then.

But there had been lots of good days too. Days where Shiro would come over and play with Keith to his heart’s content. Keith would hug him and cling to him like a monkey. Shiro would pick him up, maybe swing him around a little, and kiss his cheeks. He’d ruffle Keith’s hair and give his sides a good tickle every once in a while, just to hear him laugh. Keith’s new favorite place to sit and color was snuggled up warm and cozy in Shiro’s lap. Shiro would color with him, or just wrap his arms around Keith’s waist and hold him tight. Sometimes he’d blow a raspberry on Keith’s neck and Keith would giggle and squeal in such an unabashed way that Shiro had never heard from him before. It did something funny to his heart, seeing him so happy and uninhibited for once.

Sometimes Shiro even came bearing gifts—usually in the form of stuffed animals or new toys. The way Keith’s face lit up was pure gold. By the time Shiro had left Earth, Keith had ended up with a whole bin full of crayons and blocks and toy trucks and planes. Shiro spoiled him to no end—it was the first time in Keith’s life. It made the younger boy’s heart feel full in a way it never had before. He almost didn’t know what to do with all the pure-hearted joy inside him. He didn’t know how to thank Shiro.

But then he’d gone to Kerberos. Disappeared. Keith had gotten expelled from the Garrison. Then in the span of twelve hours, after a year of solitude in the desert, Shiro came crashing back down to Earth, only for them to be turned right around and launched into space again, thrown head-first into a millenias-long war. It was almost like old times in Keith’s life, where every day felt like a battle just to survive. Keith didn’t have time to give in to his immature, childish desires anymore. Not when people’s lives were at stake.

Shiro just thought maybe Keith had gotten over it. That their times at the Garrison had satisfied that little missing piece of Keith’s heart, and now he just didn’t feel the need to regress so young anymore. Keith had been happy to let him think that. Shiro tried not to let his disappointment show. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t miss their time together, especially with the way Keith was so trusting and carefree when he was little. Something he never was nowadays.

He was secretly delighted to find out Keith had never actually moved on from those desires. Not that Shiro would ever tell him that.

Keith himself, though, was just still so embarrassed. So ashamed. How pathetic did he have to be to be jealous of a bunch of snot-nosed toddlers? He didn’t want to be, but he couldn’t help it. It had blind-sided him.

Honestly, Keith had assumed lately that he’d gotten over it too. Turned out it was just really easy to repress those kinds of feelings when there wasn’t anything to remind him of why he wanted to be one of those snot-nosed toddlers so much. Part of him wished he’d never stumbled into the childcare wing of the blade base.

Truly, it had been an accident. Keith was supposed to have a meeting with an officer he’d never met before to discuss his upcoming mission—she’d called him to her office, and Keith had gotten lost trying to find it. The base felt like a giant maze sometimes, with its odd layout and overwhelming number of floors. There were even corridors in between floors. Unmarked rooms with one door separated into two by a curtain. Really it was a miracle anyone found their way anywhere. At least, that was Keith’s excuse.

But in the midst of searching for her office, he’d somehow ended up in a section of the base with an unprecedented number of children. He hadn’t even known there were children on the base, but he supposed that it made sense. Lots of blade members were married—of course some of them also had children. Families.

And someone had to watch over their kids while the grown-ups were away on missions. Educate them. It only made sense that there was also a school in the blade base, similar to the way the Garrison had an academy.

At first, Keith hadn’t thought anything of it. He’d been a in a part of the base with the older students—maybe high schoolers. Or middle schoolers? It was hard to tell sometimes; Galra were so big. Either way, they didn’t seem much younger than him. But the farther he walked down the hallway, the younger the kids seemed to get.

Keith was all fine and dandy with that, honestly, until he got to the end of the wing. He couldn’t ignore the big windows lining the wall, and the room beyond seemed huge—it was so much bigger than all the classrooms he’d just passed.

The way it was set up was so obviously some kind of daycare. Even through the dimmed lights, Keith could see there were bright, cheerful decorations all over the walls, including artwork by children who clearly had yet to develop any fine motor control. There were posters displaying the Galran alphabet and numbers one to one hundred. Keith didn’t know enough Galran to read what the other posters said, but they were written in a colorful, fun font with cute cartoon characters on them. There were a multitude of toys and books and art supplies scattered all throughout the room. A wall lined with coats and cubbies with little backpacks and shoes shoved inside. There was even a whole entire playground with slides and swings and seesaws. God, when was the last time Keith had been on a seesaw? Had he ever?

But the thing that had oddly broken through Keith’s carefully controlled defenses was the fact that it was also clearly nap time. All of the kids were laying on cots, or on futons on the floor, wrapped up with soft blankets and pillows. Some of them were curled up with stuffed animals or dolls, dozing gently. Others suckled softly on pacifiers as they slept, if the soother hadn’t fallen out of their slack mouths. Some of them drooled, completely unaware. There were even younger, smaller children dreaming away in cribs and cradles. They looked so calm. So peaceful. So happy.

Keith’s heart clenched with envy.

He wanted to have nap time, too.

He was so screwed.

After that, Keith couldn’t stop thinking about it, even though he’d had a mission to focus on. It just wouldn’t leave his mind. He was jealous. He wanted to be like them. He wanted to be happy and taken care of and not have a single worry in the world. He wanted to play. He wanted to make friends. He wanted to prove he could behave himself and be praised by his teachers when he was good. He wanted to be fed when he was hungry and put down for a nap when he was tired. And he was so, so tired.

The worst part of it all was that Keith couldn’t just be jealous, either. No—he had to be bitter about it, too. He was bitter that these kids were going to grow up surrounded by friends and family who loved them and get everything that Keith never had handed right to them. It wasn’t fair. Why did he always get the short end of the stick? Why couldn’t his childhood have been that nice? Since becoming a blade, he knew he was part Galra—what if his mother had taken him instead of leaving him and his dad in the dust? Did the Empire have good daycares? Could he have had this all along?

It was all so unfair, and complaining about it made him feel just like the whiny, unloved little kid he didn’t want to be any more.

He’d thought maybe if he avoided that part of the base for the rest of his time there, maybe he could forget about it again. He had no such luck.

Even after his mission, his mind was still occupied with all of these feelings, and the funk had followed him all the way back to the castle-ship, where Shiro had sniffed the truth out of him like a bloodhound.

It was humiliating.

“I know, okay!” Keith sighed dramatically, agreeing with Shiro’s assessment. “And it’s fucking embarrassing, so can you please just let me be pathetic in peace?” He asked.

“Keith, you don’t have to be embarrassed. And you’re not pathetic.” Shiro said gently. “It makes sense that you’d feel deprived after everything you had to go through as a kid—it’s not a bad thing. Plus, I bet it’s been a really long time since you got to be little, huh?”

The tips of Keith’s ears burned. Fuck—now Shiro was embarrassing him. That didn’t mean he wasn’t right, though.

Keith just shrugged half-heartedly, trying to hide from the older man’s knowing stare, but Shiro saw right through him. Again.

“Well, we’ll just have to do something about that, then, won’t we?” Shiro proclaimed, looking mischievously at Keith before tackling him back onto his bed and poking at his ribs until Keith was howling with laughter.

Damn him for being so ticklish. Keith swore he’d murder Shiro if he ever told another soul.

But, despite the tickling, Shiro actually had a whole different idea brewing in his head.

Luckily for him, Kolivan was only a phone call away.

Chapter Text

Hardly a day later, Shiro was pulling up Kolivan’s video call address, prepared to hit dial. He knew the request he was about to make was going to be a bit…unconventional, and he’d been rehearsing exactly what he was going to say in his head to justify it all night. All the different ways he could get the blade leader to understand why Keith needed this—why it would be good for him. Shiro wanted to say he was confident he could persuade the other man—even if he had to make up some bullshit excuse about how this wouldn’t be unusual in human culture—but really, Shiro had no clue how this was going to go over. He was surprised how much it was wracking his own nerves.

Shiro started the call. Kolivan picked up almost too quickly.

“Oh—hello, Shiro. I wasn’t expecting it to be you on the line.” Kolivan’s voice always sounded so gruff, but it wasn’t said unpleasantly.

“Oh? Who were you expecting?” Shiro had only called Kolivan a handful of times—normally to get status updates on Keith while he was on missions, but usually Allura handled most of those.

“Honestly, I thought it would be Keith—”

A fair assumption. Truthfully, Shiro had no idea how often Keith was in contact with Kolivan when he was here with Voltron, but it would be stupid to think he never was. However, Shiro was aware that it was typically Kolivan who called upon Keith most times, rather than the other way around.

“—I noticed he seemed to be in a bad mood when he left the other day; I thought maybe he was calling to give me a piece of his mind about something. How’s he doing?” Kolivan inquired.

Shiro chuckled briefly. “So, you noticed that too, huh?”

“Yes.” He stated matter-of-factly. “I wanted to ask him about it, but you know how he is. I thought maybe it would be best left alone.”

Shiro hummed in sympathy. He did indeed know how Keith was—raised alone, surrounded by cacti and just as prickly. He couldn’t blame Kolivan for not prying—there was no way Keith would’ve ever told him the truth. That was why Shiro was here, about to do it for him. He prayed the younger man wouldn’t kill him for this.

“Yeah, that’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about…” Shiro started.

Kolivan seemed to perk up in curiosity.

“…I have…kind of an unusual favor to ask of you…” He hesitated. Kolivan only raised an eyebrow at him.

“Yes?”

“You guys, uh, have a daycare at the base, right? Or a preschool? Something like that?” Shiro wasn’t sure what it was actually classified as.

“Yes—we have both, actually, but our daycare, preschool, and kindergarten classes all share the same room. Why do you ask?”

“Well, I was wondering if maybe…if it was at all possible…” God, he just needed to spit it out already, “I was wondering if I could enroll Keith? Maybe just for a day or two, or something?” He braced himself for Kolivan’s reply.

“Oh, yes—of course.”

Shiro’s mouth was already open, ready to argue his case and armed with all of the reasons why Kolivan should let Keith in, why it would be a good experience for him, how it would help him cope with the stress of always being at the forefront of a war, when the words Kolivan said registered. His brain screeched to a halt.

“Wha—really?” Shiro asked, still processing the other man’s unfazed approval.

“Of course. Keith is only twenty-two deca-phoebs old, is he not?”

“Uhh…” Shiro had to whip out a data-pad to do some quick conversions, “Uh, yes, he is. That’s not…too old?” He asked cautiously.

“Of course not. All Galra kits under the age of fifty are eligible to be enrolled in daycare.” Kolivan explained easily. Shiro’s eyes went wide with surprise. “To be honest with you, it’s always sat a bit wrong with me seeing someone so young undertake such dangerous operations, but I understand by human standards Keith’s considered to be quite a bit older, so I didn’t think it was my place to hold him back. I always wanted to suggest to him that he might feel more comfortable being housed with the other preschoolers here while he was on-call at the base, but he just seems so…independent. I didn’t think the idea would be well-received.”

Shiro’s mind was still trying to catch up on everything he’d apparently not known. “Wait—so, you’re telling me then, by Galra standards, Keith’s still just a child?”

“Yes—and quite a young one at that. He’s practically still a toddler in my eyes. That’s why it’s always so difficult to see him go off to battle.”

Well, goddamn. If that didn’t explain nearly everything…

“You know, I think that idea might’ve been more well-received than you thought, Kolivan.” Shiro said.

“Really? Has Keith expressed a desire to join our daycare program?” The older man sounded pleased.

“Um, you could say that.” It was a very reluctantly expressed desire, but it was still a desire, nonetheless. “I’ll be honest with you, sir, Keith’s been struggling with feeling younger than he really is for a very long time. It might’ve saved him a bit of heartache if he’d known all this.”

“Oh, well, my apologies for hesitating then. I simply had no idea, but I suppose it only makes sense. Most of Keith’s Galra traits seem to be more behaviorally apparent than expressed physically. It really shouldn’t surprise me if he’s been feeling a bit neglected all this time, but I’m glad to know he’ll finally be getting the care he really needs.”

“Yeah, you and me, both. Thanks, Kolivan. I’m glad you’re so understanding, and that this didn’t have to be a hassle.”

“Of course—Keith deserves an age-appropriate environment to grow up in. He deserves a space where he can freely express his needs and get the attention he requires to thrive. I’m just sorry he’s had to go so long without. If I’d known, he would’ve been placed in our daycare ages ago. Thank you for bringing it to my attention, Shiro.”

“Oh, no problem.” Shiro was honestly so relieved. He never imagined this was going to go so well. He also hoped maybe Keith would be a bit more accepting of this part of himself now that he had an explanation for why he felt this way.

“Now, to get to some specifics of the enrollment. As much as we accept Keith as a full member of the Blade and a fellow Galra, there’s no doubt that there are special circumstances surrounding his case.” Kolivan started again, “Seeing as Keith is only twenty-two, that would place him firmly with our youngest children in the daycare. Most of our kits don’t start preschool until they’re thirty, and then most kindergarteners begin schooling at forty. However, seeing as Keith is part human, he’s also quite advanced for his age, so it would be understandable if we were to make an exception for him if he’d rather be placed in preschool or kindergarten. Do you know if he has a preference?”

Oh. Shiro supposed he never really thought about this. “Well, what are the differences between the three?” He asked. Maybe knowing that would help.

“It’s mostly based on how structured their class time is. Our daycare class is focused primarily on helping our youngest children develop their cognitive and motor skills. There’s a lot of focus on play to help them do so. Depending on their exact age, there’s also many group activities—lots of group games, story times, arts and crafts, that sort of thing. But there’s plenty of free play time as well. There’s also more supervision, of course. We’re really just focused on helping them develop those basic, most fundamental skills—walking, talking, potty-training. You get the idea.”

Shiro hummed. He wondered if Keith would like that—he did seem a bit more advanced than that, but he also really liked to play. It sounded fun. Shiro listened to the other options.

“Our preschool focuses a bit more on helping our children socialize appropriately with their peers. There’s still lots of time for individual play, but the activities are a bit more advanced—a bit more structured. There’s still lots of games and songs and stories, but there’s also more emphasis on how to behave appropriately in a classroom setting. Children have their assigned seats and are taught to raise their hands if they wish to speak and to listen attentively when others are speaking, they learn how to count numbers and recite the alphabet, as well as how to write their names. Teachers make sure they know their personal information, like their address and birthdate. They learn interpersonal skills, like how to share with others and take turns. Things that will help prepare them for kindergarten.”

Shiro nodded, listening along, mentally evaluating Keith in each scenario.

“And then in kindergarten, there’s much more focus on their education. Children learn how to read and write, and they learn some very basic math. They have more advanced art projects, and they begin music lessons, too. Their physical education is still very game-based—lots of tag and hop-scotch and jump rope. And there’s multiple breaks for free time, whether that be used for various kinds of play or independent reading. The toys are a bit tidier on that side of the room.” Kolivan noted with a chuckle. “Those are the main differences.”

In Shiro’s mind, it was hard to choose. Keith loved playing the most when he was little, and the daycare seemed to have the most time devoted to that, but he wondered if Keith wouldn’t be bored if a lot of the students were less developed than him, especially if they couldn’t communicate well.

The preschool seemed a little more appropriate—Shiro knew Keith didn’t have the best social skills, even by his human age standards. They may not have been as bad as a preschooler’s, sure, but Shiro wasn’t sure if Keith couldn’t still learn something by going back to the very basics. It could be good for him, and there was still a lot of playing involved, it seemed. The children were probably much more verbal, too, making them better playmates.

As for kindergarten, Shiro wasn’t sure. Keith had never been the biggest fan of school, but he also knew Keith was interested in learning more about his Galran heritage, especially how to read and write. He spoke it well enough to be conversational now, but he hadn’t spent much time learning how to read and Shiro knew he wanted to.

He was having a difficult time deciding, and apparently it showed on his face. Kolivan spoke up again.

“Of course, we don’t have to decide right away. Perhaps, for him, it might be best if we let him do what we call “free roaming”. He could visit for a few days and spend a bit of time with each of our classes before deciding on one. Or, honestly, considering he’s not a full-time resident of the base, I could probably make another exception to keep him permanently free-roaming, and he could join whatever class he chooses to whenever he wishes to join us.” Kolivan supplied.

That took some of the weight off Shiro’s shoulders—he really didn’t want to make the wrong decision for Keith.

“I think that would be a good option, at least for now. Thanks, Kolivan.” Shiro said.

“Any time. I’ll submit some of his paperwork now, and I’ll forward you some informational papers and a few of the things he’ll need before he starts class. When would you like to visit?”

“Would this weekend be alright? Allura said she was going to give us some well-earned down time this week, so I think that would work out nicely.”

“Sure. Did you want to send him for just a day-long visit, or were you planning to have Keith stay overnight?”

Oh, right. Shiro never considered that possibility, but he probably should have. Blades went on missions for days, weeks, sometimes months at a time or longer. Of course their daycare ran overnight.

“Um, let’s pencil him in for overnight. If he decides he doesn’t want to, he can call me and I’ll pick him up—is that okay?”

“Sure thing. Alright then—I’ll guess we’ll be seeing you this weekend.”

“Yes, you will.” Shiro confirmed.

“I’ll send over those documents—just let me know if you have any questions. See you then.”

“See you, Kolivan. And thanks again.”

“You’re very welcome. Anything for our favorite paladin of Voltron.” He chuckled.

The younger man laughed amicably, and then they parted.

Shiro felt victorious—that had gone a lot smoother than he ever could’ve hoped. Now he just had to get through Keith. He prayed Keith would manage not to kill him long enough for him to get to the good news, after Shiro had to admit he outed him to his boss.

Oof.

Chapter Text

Shiro was actually kind of surprised how easily Keith agreed to try out the Blade’s daycare—not to say that telling him about it was painless. Far from it. At first, like he expected, Keith balked. He was horrified. He told Shiro there was no way he’d ever do that, and how dare he? Was he trying to make the Blades lose all respect for him? Shiro got his head properly chewed off by the younger boy for spilling his deepest personal secret to Kolivan of all people, and he couldn’t even deny he deserved it.

But after Shiro explained how unfazed Kolivan seemed by it all—how Kolivan himself had actually wanted that for Keith as well—the younger boy seemed a little more open to the idea. Shiro explained the things Kolivan had said to him about how he’d interpreted Keiths’s age, and how he’d refrained from bringing it up to him because he seemed so much more mature than the other Galra children. When Keith heard that, a part of himself was proud that he’d done such a good job being big around the other Blades, but another part of him was disappointed. Maybe if he’d been smaller—even accidentally— maybe he could’ve had this opportunity sooner.

Oh well. The important thing was that Keith had the opportunity now—and the more he thought about it, the more it seemed like too good of an opportunity to let go to waste. Keith would never get another chance like this again—a place where he could be as little as he wanted, and no one would bat an eye? A place where he could have all his most childish wants and needs acknowledged and fulfilled? It was almost too good to be true.

Once he realized that, he immediately forgave Shiro for his betrayal. Realized just how amazing his older brother really was, and how much he wanted to see Keith happy. He had to admit that was why Shiro made such a good caregiver for him—he really did know what was best for Keith, even when Keith didn’t know it himself.

For the rest of the week, Keith was over the moon with excitement. He kept his good cheer hidden from the rest of the paladins, but he couldn’t help the silly, bubbly happiness that welled up inside him whenever he thought about the upcoming weekend. It threatened to drop him on the daily.

However, there were still a few things that needed to be taken care of before Keith was ready for his first day of school. Luckily, it wasn’t anything a trip to the space mall couldn’t fix.

Kolivan had sent over a short list of supplies that Keith would need to bring with him on his first day. It included all the typical school supplies like pencils, crayons, glue, safety scissors, and so on, but there were also a few other things that he’d need since he was staying overnight. Things like his toothbrush and toothpaste, a comb, and other personal items.

More than that, though, there was still a whole host of things Keith was missing. It wasn’t as if any of his little gear from the Garrison had made it into space, and now he was in desperate need of resupply.

The first and probably most important order of business was clothing. Keith was spending two days at the base, which meant he would need clothes to wear to school, a pair of pajamas, and a change of clothes for the next day, at the very least. Shiro was more than happy to spoil him, though, especially if this was going to be a semi-regular occurrence, which he heavily suspected it would.

It took an absolutely Herculean effort on Shiro’s part not to comment on every cute little thing Keith did. Shiro had basically given him free reign to pick out whatever he wanted to wear, and he desperately tried to keep his mouth shut and his face neutral or appropriately approving whenever Keith looked at him to see his reaction to what he chose. Shiro knew if he teased him just the faintest little bit, Keith would shutdown on him in a heartbeat.

The whole shopping trip was a bit of a gamble, because he’d taken Keith here while big so as to avoid any public hassle that Keith might be embarrassed about later, but it also slightly limited their options. The space mall was huge, and there was actually quite a wide selection of baby and children’s clothing that fit Keith, much to both of their surprise. Unfortunately, saving Keith embarrassment later, to him, meant subjecting him to more of it now, even if only privately. There were a wide range of stores to choose from but Keith, wanting to get this over with quickly, chose to get all his clothing from just one store.

Still, he seemed pleased with his purchases, especially since Shiro spared him no expense.

And even though Keith’s cheeks were flaming the whole time they were in the store, he secretly couldn’t wait to try it all on when they got home. He’d been able to get things he’d been wanting for years but could never have afforded back when he was penniless and at the Garrison on scholarship. The things he was most excited to wear so far were the pair of light denim shortalls that were currently at the top of the cart and especially his new footie pajamas. He might even wear those to bed tonight if he thought he could get away without the other paladins seeing.

But Keith absolutely had to tap out when they got to the section of the store that sold underwear and…other things. Shiro, luckily, could see the way Keith was internally combusting, and pointed him to the opposite end of the store where he told him to pick out the three best pairs of socks in the store. Shiro would take care of this for him.

Now, Keith didn’t really need more socks, but he saw it for the out it was. He almost protested, knowing that Shiro was going to be the one picking out his underwear for him, but he didn’t want to have this conversation. At all. He quickly retreated to the safety of the sock display.

He made his selections much too quickly, and when he slunk back to Shiro’s side somewhere in the middle of the store, he did nothing but pretend not to see what new additions had been made to the cart. Even if they were completely obvious. He did not make eye contact with Shiro again until all their items were bagged and hidden from plain sight.

Up until that time, though, Keith’s mind was consumed by it. His face flamed with every thought.

Shiro had bought a multi-pack of small-sized briefs, each one patterned with a different lion of Voltron. He had to admit Shiro knew his little side very well, but because of that Keith kind of wanted to disappear through the floor. He hated that Shiro knew little him would be ecstatic just to put on underwear that had Red all over it.

But the thing that was really threatening to send him over the edge were the two plastic packages sitting in the cart—one of pull-ups, and the other of diapers. The more Keith thought about it, the more his knees threatened to give out.

In all truthful honesty, Keith had never worn pull-ups or diapers at the Garrison, even though he’d always wanted to. Even though it was one of his biggest fantasies. To him, it was the pinnacle of all his baby-ish needs.

But it was also hands-down the most mortifying, especially once Shiro got involved.

The first problem besides the whole money thing was living in a dorm. Specifically, dorm inspections. While pull-ups and diapers were not technically illicit, prohibited items, Keith was sure his soul would leave his body if any of his instructors found that in his room. Even worse if it somehow got out to the rest of the student populace. Keith would rather die.

And then, once Shiro had found out, it seemed as good as forbidden. It had nothing to do with the older man’s attitude toward all of this, of course, but Keith couldn’t. It was one thing for him to suck on a pacifier and play with all the new toys his older brother figure had gifted him with, but it was another thing entirely to ask this person who he admired so wholly to put him back in diapers.

The ironic thing was that Keith always thought that if he’d ever been brave enough to admit it, Shiro would’ve indulged him. Shiro would’ve bought him whatever he asked for. But every time he thought about it, it was just too humiliating.

He’d always kind of hoped Shiro might bring it up himself one day, but back then he never had. So Keith was resigned to the idea that wearing diapers was going to be just a forever unfulfilled fantasy of his. He tried hard not to want them so much, not to think of them so much. He tried especially hard not to imagine how safe and warm and loved he’d feel if Shiro was to lay him down on a soft surface and change him. Tease him and coo at him and make him giggle while he got Keith all cleaned up.

It was off-limits.

But Keith was already dropping—hard.

And now Shiro had bought diapers for him without Keith even needing to ask. Like he knew that was what he’d wanted this whole time. Was Keith that easy to read? Or was Shiro just that good?

As they left the store, bags of clothing and diapering supplies in hand, Keith hesitantly grabbed onto a few of Shiro’s fingers, not feeling big enough to look after himself. He knew they weren’t quite done shopping yet. He got much quieter, but also less anxious.

Shiro leaned over and gave him a kiss on top of the head when Keith wasn’t looking. His older brother knew him far too well.

At the next store, Keith perked up more. It was still a baby supply store, but he was in a better headspace for it now, and they had toys. Keith tried not to whine when Shiro told him they weren’t here for toys—his new school was going to have so many fun toys for him to play with, after all—but Shiro was also a pushover for his little boy.

When Keith ran up to him with huge puppy dog eyes, holding an admittedly very cute, very round stuffed animal that looked like a cross between a hippo and an elephant up to his face, Shiro sighed, took it from him, and placed it carefully in the shopping basket.

It was worth it for the long, happy hug Keith graced him with after.

After that, he had Keith pick out a few pacifiers and clips, as well as some sippy cups and bottles for the castle ship. Shiro threw a set or two of plastic dishware and cutlery with cute animals on it into the cart and then a bib and even a few hair accessories. He didn’t know if Keith was a messy eater, but it seemed like a high possibility.

After that, it was onto the school supplies. Keith very happily picked out a red backpack for himself (his self-proclaimed favorite color) while Shiro got the less personal things—namely the stationery. He didn’t put too much thought into it, but he did very purposefully buy Keith the 64-set of crayons just to see the sparkle in his eye when he realized.

By the end of the day, Shiro had blown through a good chunk of his budget, but if it was to get Keith ready for his second, very first day of pre-school, then it was worth every penny.

Chapter Text

At last, the weekend finally came. Nearly every paladin on the ship breathed a sigh of relief, all of them looking forward to some well-earned down time. Everyone else was headed to an island planet known for its beautiful, crystal-clear beaches and year-round balmy climate. Shiro would be meeting up with them later—after dropping Keith off at daycare—but first they were all gathered in the pod-bay, seeing Keith off for the two-day ‘Galran Cultural Heritage Retreat’ he’d been ‘invited to go on’ by the Blades.

In a very strange way, it wasn’t exactly a lie. Feeling like a baby at his age was, weirdly, a part of his cultural heritage, after all.

At the moment, Keith was dressed in his typical Blade uniform in order to keep cover, but his brand-new red backpack was slung over his shoulder and another bag was already packed away in the pod they were taking to get the base.

“Hope you have fun, man.” Hunk said, pulling Keith in for a quick hug.

“Thanks, Hunk.” He answered, returning a friendly pat on the back. Truthfully, Keith had been trying to keep himself from bouncing off the walls all week, but now that the day had arrived, he found there was a very uncomfortable feeling swirling around in the pit of his stomach. Still, he appreciated the well wishes. He wanted to have fun. He didn’t want this icky feeling to get in the way.

“Man, I can’t believe you’d rather hang out with a bunch of beefy Blade guys than with us.” Lance complained. “I’m offended.”

That actually made Keith chuckle. That was about as good of a goodbye as he was going to get from the other boy.

“Yeah, I’ll miss you too, Lance.” Keith said in friendly retaliation.

Lance spluttered indignantly. “I didn’t say that!”

But Keith and Shiro were already climbing into the pod, waving goodbye to everyone else as they set course for the Blade of Marmora’s headquarters.

“I’ll see you guys in a few hours!” Shiro called out before sealing the door closed.

The journey to the base would take a little over an hour, so Keith tried to settle in. Tried to relax. Tried to get himself into an appropriate headspace. It always felt a little wrong, though, when he tried to force it. He much preferred to sink into it, or to be guided into it, but it was hard to with this bad feeling churning inside of him. He pulled his feet up to the seat he was sitting on and hugged his knees to chest, but that feeling just wouldn’t go away. It was too quiet in here.

Shiro noticed it, too.

“How’re you doing, buddy?” he asked from the pilot’s seat beside Keith.

“Good.” Keith muttered, not particularly enthused.

“Are you excited?" Shiro tried again, watching him carefully.

“Uh-huh.”

He didn’t sound very excited. Shiro frowned to himself, not sure what was wrong. He decided to go for a completely different approach, switching topics slightly. He was also just genuinely curious if Keith had been aware of this.

“Hey, did you know that Kolivan’s like, four hundred years old? I had no idea Galra lived that long.” He tried.

Keith opened his mouth to make some sort of retort before he paused, realizing he’d actually had no idea how old his boss was.

“Okay, I was about to say ‘duh’, but you know what? I actually didn’t know that…I guess I just always assumed he was in his like, thirties or forties, but now that you said that—it makes a lot of sense. You know, considering I’m eighteen and still feel like a fucking baby.” He pouted.

“Hey, now.” Shiro scolded, “Watch your language. Babies don’t say the ‘F’ word.” He teased.

Keith only hummed noncommittally, not saying a word. Shiro decided to stop beating around the bush.

“Keith, are you okay? What’s the matter?”

Under normal circumstances, Keith would’ve tried to play it off. Would’ve told Shiro he was fine and that nothing was wrong. But Keith already knew he wouldn’t get away with that. His older brother knew him too well, so he spilled.

“I don’t know…” Keith mumbled into his knees. “I’m just…I’m just…worried…” he trailed off.

“Worried about what, sweetheart?”

Keith blushed heavily at the pet name but didn’t comment on it. Shiro only used terms of endearment like that when Keith was dropped, or when Shiro was trying to get him to drop. Keith couldn’t say he didn’t appreciate it.

“Just…like…I don’t know!” Keith kept hugging his knees, but his hands splayed out in frustration. “I’m worried I’m gonna stand out a lot. I’m probably going to be a lot bigger than all the other kids, right? I mean, I’m older than them. I’m not like them…I don’t look anything like them, and I have this huge scar on my face…” Keith put a hand over his cheek self-consciously. His voice dropped lower. “What if…what if nobody wants to play with me?” He confessed in a shy whisper.

Shiro’s heart broke a little in his chest.

“Aw, Keith, of course they’re going to want to play with you. They’re going to think you’re so cool, once they know you’re a paladin of Voltron. Everyone’s going to want to play with you. And little kids don’t care about that kind of stuff as much as you think.” He reassured the younger boy.

“…not in my experience…” Keith pouted, thinking about all the times he used to get picked on in elementary school for being ‘different’. His dad dying and being the new kid in town— especially with his raggedy, dirty hand-me-downs—certainly hadn’t helped anything.

“You know you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, Keith. I only asked Kolivan because I thought you might enjoy it. I just want you to have fun, but if you’re really worried about it, you don’t have to go. No one’s making you, and you know I’ll support whatever decision you make. I’m sure everyone would be happy to have you with them at the beach.”

“No!” Keith said a little too loudly, almost lurching out of his seat before catching himself. “No, I want to go, I do.” He really did. He wanted to have fun, too. He wanted more than anything for it to be a good experience. “I’m just…nervous, I guess.”

Hearing that, Shiro found the controls to set the pod on autopilot before swiveling to face the other boy.

“Keith, come here,” he requested kindly, holding his arms out.

Keith carefully slid out of his own seat and sunk down into Shiro’s arms, never one to shun his big brother’s clear offers of comfort. He settled himself on the older man’s lap and buried his face in the crook of his neck. Shiro rubbed soothing circles against his back, bouncing the boy lightly on his knee. Shiro was really good at this. Keith felt himself slip a little further.

“It’s normal to be nervous on your first day, honey. Everyone gets those butterflies in their tummy.” Shiro told him, tickling Keith’s belly just the slightest bit to make him squirm and giggle. “But you’re going to have so much fun. I know it. By the time I come to pick you up tomorrow, I bet you’re not even going to want to leave.” He pressed an exaggerated kiss against Keith’s temple.

Keith whined into his shoulder, still unsure.

“And if you really aren’t having a good time, you can always call me and I’ll come pick you up, okay? Your comm’s in your backpack. I’ll come get you anytime—day or night. But I only want you to use it if you really need me, okay? Deal?” Shiro asked.

“Okay.” Keith nodded, folding himself further into the warmth of Shiro’s chest. It did make him feel better knowing that he could contact his big brother if he needed to. That Shiro would come to his rescue if all his worst fears came true.

“Okay.” Shiro repeated, giving him another, gentler kiss on the head for good measure. Keith sank into it. Then, Shiro gave a few pats to Keith’s back, signaling a change in activity. “Now—why don’t you go get dressed and ready? We’ll be there in just under forty minutes.” Noting that Keith was still in his Blade suit.

The younger boy nodded wordlessly and slid down from his place on Shiro’s lap, making his way to the back of the cockpit where his backpack and the bag with the rest of his clothes were stored away. He paused in front of everything, though, thinking, before he turned back to where Shiro was still sitting.

The older man felt the faintest of tugs on his shirt sleeve. He turned around with a surprised little hum in his throat, seeing Keith looking at his feet with a blush on his face.

“Umm…” was the only thing he could come up with.  

“Do you want help getting ready, sweetheart?” Shiro could always see right through him.

Keith nodded shyly.

‘Want’ was truly the right word for it, too. Did Keith need help? Technically, no. Even with his suit zipper being located on his back, Keith’s shoulders were flexible enough that he could do and undo it by himself, and everything else was pretty trivial. But he knew having Shiro help him get dressed would go a long way in helping him sink into headspace, which he was already teetering on the edge of from the short little cuddle he’d just had.

“Okay, let’s see what we’ve got, huh?” Shiro said, taking Keith by the hand and leading him back to all the clothes they’d bought the other day.

Keith stood by, waiting patiently as Shiro rifled through some of the tops. The older man knew kids Keith’s age liked being given choices, but this was probably too many, so Shiro helped narrow it down for him. He pulled out two shirts. One was a soft, pastel yellow color with a happy, smiling sun emblazoned on the front, and the other was a white T-shirt patterned with airplanes. He held both out for Keith to choose from, and to his surprise, Keith picked out the cheery yellow shirt.

“Oh? An excellent decision.” Shiro praised him, motioning for Keith to turn around so he could unzip the suit. Keith turned pink at the approval.

Quickly enough, Shiro had the suit unzipped and shimmied down to Keith’s waist. The younger boy shivered, his upper body exposed to the cold air inside the pod. Shiro stood, bunching up the shirt in his hands.

“Arms up, bud,” he instructed kindly to Keith, who did just that. Shiro diligently threaded the other boy’s arms through each sleeve like he’d been dressing Keith for all his life, then popped the shirt over his head. Keith’s hair bounced out as it was freed from the collar of the shirt, making it look soft and fluffy.

“How’s that?” Shiro asked. It looked like it fit him perfectly, which he’d been worried about since Keith had been too embarrassed to try it on at the store.

“Good.” Keith replied, petting his hands slowly, repeatedly down the front of the shirt like it must’ve felt nice to the touch. He was only half dressed and already Shiro nearly couldn’t contain himself at how cute he was.

“Now, let’s see, bottoms…bottoms…” Shiro mumbled to himself, rifling around again in the bag. Despite Keith having picked out about a half-dozen tops for himself, he’d really only gotten a few pairs of things he could wear as bottoms. One was a loose, thin pair of shorts that had snaps lining the inseams and the crotch, presumably for easier diaper checks and changes, which Keith probably wouldn’t want to wear to school. The second option was his new pair of shortalls, which Shiro could see him eyeing over his shoulder, but that Shiro didn’t wasn’t willing to let him wear just yet. The last option was a pair of pants similar to khaki shorts, but they were more stylized, slightly more of a triangle shape with the hems flared out just a bit more than the waist. They looked loose and comfortable—good for playing and climbing around in. Shiro liked the pale, army green color. He also approved of the elastic waistband and the numerous pockets featured in the design.

Keith loved pockets. When he was a kid, he was always picking up cool rocks and interesting bottle caps he found in the school yard and hiding them away for later. He realized a little belatedly that the Blade daycare probably wouldn’t have rocks or bottle caps just laying around, but pockets were still useful. He was sure he’d find a use for them somehow.

Shiro ended up picking those out as the most suitable option, which Keith didn’t whine about despite clearly having wanted to wear his shortalls.

He did, however, kick up a fuss when Shiro grabbed one of the pullups packed away in Keith’s red backpack. Truthfully, Keith’s backpack was half school supplies, half diaper bag. Shiro knew the Blade’s daycare had their own supplies, but he worried, sometimes. What if their supplies didn’t fit right or work for Keith? What if he had a bad reaction? Shiro had bought wipes and powder and creams made specifically for sensitive skin, just in case. He would hate for Keith to be miserable in a diaper that only irritated him.

“But! But I wanna wear my Red underwear!” Keith complained, digging around and pulling out the pair of briefs with his lion printed on it.

“I know you do, honey. And you can!” Shiro placated, taking the underwear from Keith and putting it back in his backpack. “But I want you to wear these first, alright? It’s just in case. If you can be a big boy and stay dry all day and all night, then you can wear your new undies tomorrow when I come to get you. How’s that sound?” That was also why Shiro didn’t want him wearing his overalls yet—they were a lot more difficult for Keith to get off if he was on the verge of having an accident.

Keith’s tummy was doing funny little flips and somersaults at the way Shiro was speaking to him. Like he really was just a little boy. If he wasn’t dropped already, then he was certainly on his way now.

“Okay.” Keith complied reluctantly. Secretly, he wasn’t actually that displeased, but he would have to make sure no one else in his class saw. He really wanted to be in the pre-school class, maybe even kindergarten, but he was pretty sure no one in either of those classes still wore pullups. Keith knew how to be a big boy, though, and then he would get to wear his cool new underwear instead. And Shiro would be proud of him, too!

“Do you want to put these on yourself, or do you want me to help you?” Shiro asked Keith, holding out the pullup.

Keith thought for a moment. “Help, please.” But he turned around so his back was facing Shiro. His caregiver understood.

Shiro began tugging the suit down Keith’s legs like a second skin, helping him carefully pluck his feet out. The other boy covered himself with his hands even though Shiro was positioned behind him where he couldn’t see, but it was just to make sure. He didn’t think he was ready for Shiro to see such an intimate part of his body yet, not when he was already so anxious about his first day of school.

But Shiro was good, kneeling behind Keith and bunching up the pullup, stretching it out a little. He even fluffed it. He wrapped his arms with a wide berth around the smaller boy’s ankles, and positioned the pullup near his feet so Keith could step into it easily. Shiro let it sit around his ankles.

“Want to show me how you pull them up?” The older man asked, checking to make sure Keith was ready for this responsibility.

Keith bent down to grab the sides of the pullup, sliding them all the way up his legs with ease like a big kid. He was surprised how well they fit—not too tight, not too loose. They were really soft. They were definitely bulkier between his legs than the underwear he usually wore, but that only made him sink further into that babyish place in his mind. These really made him feel like a little kid. Like maybe he was actually too young to go potty by himself. But they also made him feel protected. Safe. Keith felt like he was floating. He smiled a little as he poked the pastel-colored stars printed all over the white padding.

“That’s my good boy.” Shiro praised encouragingly, giving Keith a quick squeeze from the side as his charge blushed. “Do you like them?” He couldn’t withhold a knowing smile.

“Yeah…” Keith said, a little spaced out, still distracted by how nice his new pullups felt.

“Good. I’m glad. Now let’s get some pants on.” Shiro said enthusiastically, although truthfully, he was almost disappointed. If they were at home, he would’ve happily let Keith play in just his T-shirt and pullup all day. Maybe another time.

Shiro, kneeling in front of Keith now, stretched out the elastic waistband of the pants and helped Keith carefully into them, sliding them up his legs for him this time around. Keith used Shiro’s shoulders to balance himself. When he was done, Keith made sure to tug the pants up extra high so his pullups didn’t peek out over the top. Unfortunately, it only kind of worked.

Lastly, Shiro had Keith sit down on his freshly padded bottom as he helped him get his socks and shoes on. Keith had also gotten a new pair of black velcro sneakers when they were at the mall, which he was very excited about. They were much easier to put on without the laces, and they even lit up!

When Keith assumed Shiro was done dressing him, he got up to go sit back in his seat, but his caregiver grabbed him by the wrist.

“Woah, hold on there for a second, buddy.”

Shiro could tell his younger brother was very clearly in headspace now, but he also knew how easily Keith’s anxiety could take him out of it, and they were almost at the Blade’s headquarters. Forgive him if he wanted to make sure Keith stayed under once they got there.

Shiro fished around for the baby powder he’d put in the younger boy’s backpack, then pulled back the waistband of Keith’s pants to shake a little into his pullup, both in the front and in the back. Just for good measure, Shiro shook some out onto his fingers and then rubbed it into Keith’s chest under the collar of his shirt, that way he was sure the smaller boy would be able to smell it. If Shiro was being honest, he could definitely see the appeal of this kind of scent. It was pretty unmistakable, and there really wasn’t anything else like it.

Something about the nostalgic, clean, babyish scent of it made something click in Keith’s hindbrain, reminding him of his own time as a small child. Telling him he was a small child. Only babies smelled like this, after all. The scent reminded him exactly of a nursery, and it comforted him in a way no other scent could possibly compare to.

Only now, Keith could feel himself slipping a little too far, the way Shiro was really pushing the envelope on his headspace. Before, Keith had been very comfortably settled in toddlerhood, but now with the addition of the baby powder, Shiro was seriously veering Keith into infancy if he didn’t stop.

Keith was holding tightly onto Shiro’s hand now, feeling a lot more unsteady on his feet. His knees were a little too weak and wobbly for him to feel comfortable walking on his own, but luckily Shiro guided him back to his seat with a hand on the small of his back, Keith clinging onto him tightly. The older man gave a soft, comforting pat to Keith’s diapered bottom before he sat down.

Keith was dying a little inside, but it felt really, really nice. He felt like he was melting. The feeling only intensified when Shiro actually buckled him into his seat then, and because the pod had been built to enter and exit atmospheres, it was more of a five-point harness than a normal seat belt. Keith kicked his legs out happily and cooed when Shiro finished buckling him in. The older man nearly melted into the floor himself—he couldn’t stop himself from pressing another kiss to Keith’s temple.

Honestly, it was a miracle Keith hadn’t dropped every time he’d strapped into the simulator at the Garrison. That wasn’t to say that it had never happened, though.  

Finally, as if Keith could even take anymore, Shiro walked behind him back to the bags again and asked, “Do you want your binky, sweetie?”

Suddenly, Keith had never wanted anything more, even though, again, he knew that all of the kids in his preschool had probably outgrown pacifiers a long time ago. But Keith was really, really small right now, so small that everything else probably would’ve seemed much too big and scary if Shiro weren’t here with him, and suddenly all Keith wanted in that moment was to nurse soothingly on his pacifier.

Unfortunately, he was also feeling a bit too little to use his words, and all he could do was give a high-pitched whine in the back of his throat. The sound wavered a little, like Keith might start crying if Shiro didn’t understand him.

But Shiro knew his little boy very, very well.

In less than a minute, Shiro had a light blue pacifier popped into Keith’s mouth and clipped to the collar of his shirt. Keith still looked a little like he was on the verge of crying, but for once Shiro didn’t think it was for a bad reason. He settled comfortably back into the pilot’s seat and listened passively as Keith suckled rhythmically on his pacifier, Shiro steadily flying them the rest of the way to the base.

They arrived far, far too soon.

Chapter Text

By the time they were docked at the base and ready to deplane from the pod, Keith’s anxiety had started to swell again.

“You ready to head in, kiddo?” Shiro asked sweetly as he stood over Keith, unbuckling him from his seat.

The boy in question only whined nervously behind his pacifier, giving it a harsh suck. He didn’t know if he’d ever be ready.

Still, Shiro reached to pick Keith up from where he was sitting, grabbing him under his arms and repositioning him so Keith was sitting comfortably on his hip, one hand supporting his bottom and the other rubbing his back soothingly. Despite the boy’s earlier efforts, the motion caused his shirt to ride up quite a bit, and his pullup was easily visible above the waistband of his pants. But Keith was preoccupied at the moment, his own distress a bit more concerning than accidentally revealing his potty-training status to Shiro, who obviously already knew. Keith clung tightly to the older man’s neck.

“Oh, it’s okay.” Shiro said lovingly, enjoying this a little too much. He just liked being needed. And now with Keith so shy and nervous, Shiro was needed more than ever. He loved taking care of Keith, after all, and he hadn’t gotten to love on his baby boy in years. As much as he still cared for Keith while big, Shiro always found that kissing his boo-boos better was a much more fulfilling task than patching him up after battle. It just wasn’t the same.  

“Think of all the fun you’re going to have!” He continued. “All the toys you’ll get to play with and all the new friends you’re going to make! Bet you’re going to forget all about your big brother,” he chuckled lightheartedly, booping him on the nose. “C’mon, let’s grab your stuff.” It was said like they were meant to do the task together, even though in reality it was all Shiro slinging Keith’s bags onto his other shoulder and Keith burying himself deeper into his caregiver’s neck. He faintly registered the comforting, homey way Shiro smelled, relaxing just the slightest bit. The bigger man just hummed jovially and kept patting Keith on the back.

“Oh—” Shiro exclaimed, reaching down very carefully with Keith and all his stuff to pick something up off the floor, “Don’t forget me!” he said in a funny voice, causing Keith to look up from his hiding place.

When he did, he came face-to-face with the ele-potamus plushie he’d gotten at the space mall. Shiro gently attacked the little boy’s face with it, making lots of silly kissy sounds as he did so and causing Keith to let out a small giggle and bat it away.

When Shiro relented, Keith timidly took the plushie from his grasp and held it close to himself.

“See? You’ve already got one new friend.” Shiro said, giving his baby a kiss on the cheek. Keith nodded in agreement. He thought maybe he felt a little braver now, too, if his plushie was going to daycare too. He wished Shiro could go with him also, but at least his plushie would always be there for him, if no one else. Keith gave the stuffed animal its own shy, innocent kiss on the forehead in thanks, mimicking his caregiver.

“Alright, let’s go!” Shiro said with a cheery tone, hiking Keith up higher on his hip and the bags more comfortably on his shoulder. His caregiver was really strong, and Keith loved that about him. He loved being picked up and carried around. It made him feel extra little, especially the way he was bounced comfortingly with every step Shiro took.

As they made their way out of the pod and down the hallway that started with the bigger kids and ended with their destination, Keith remembered vaguely that he ought to slip his pacifier out of his mouth—maybe stick it in one of those handy pockets in his shorts he’d been thinking about earlier—before the other preschoolers saw him. But, frankly, Keith didn’t think he was capable of giving his binky up just yet—not when he was getting more and more nervous the farther Shiro walked down the hall. He thought he’d rather show up to class with a pacifier in his mouth than with tears streaming down his face, anyway, even if he had to start as one of the toddlers still in daycare and work his way up to preschool later. Maybe that would be better. The younger kids wouldn’t care if he still needed help learning how to self-soothe, or if his pullups showed sometimes. Bigger kids could be so mean, he thought anxiously, unable to forget about all the tears he’d shed in grade school.

As Shiro approached, Keith heard the doors to the daycare whoosh open, immediately hit with sounds of the other children’s bright, playful shouts and laughter. It was so loud. He hid himself as best he could in his caregiver’s shoulder, clinging desperately onto his neck with one hand and gripping tightly onto one stumpy leg of his plushie with the other. Keith couldn’t look up.

“Oh, hello! Who do we have here?” he heard a friendly but unfamiliar feminine voice say. “Is this our new friend, Keith?”  

 “Hi!” Shiro returned the teacher’s cheerful greeting, “And yes, this is Keith.” Shiro shifted the boy in his arms, as if to emphasize who he was talking about.

Keith felt Shiro’s shoulder nudge him as his caregiver swept a few stray strands of hair behind his ear. He lifted Keith even higher up his waist again and pulled away slightly, making it harder for Keith to reach his hiding place. Reluctantly, Keith looked up.

“Can you say hi, baby?” Shiro asked, plucking Keith’s pacifier delicately out of his mouth with a soft ‘pop’ so he could speak.

At the feeling of his binky being taken away, Keith let out a long, fussy whine, his face starting to crumple the slightest bit and tears springing to his eyes as he looked around the room. Everything he saw seemed so unfamiliar and scary.

He didn’t know these people! There were so many strangers here and he didn’t know anyone! He’d never been so little around anyone but Shiro, and Shiro was about to leave! What if the other kids or the teachers thought he was weird? What if he did stuff wrong? What if they thought he was bad? Keith had never even been to Earth daycare before—his neighbors had always been the ones to watch him while his daddy was at the fire station. He didn’t know what he was supposed to do!

Keith gave a few tiny, hiccuping sobs from his chest, wiping his cheeks with the hand that had been clutching Shiro’s neck even though no tears had fallen yet. Shiro shushed him, rubbing his back again and cooing quietly. Keith slunk down in his arms once more and went back to trying to hide in the crook of his neck.

“Sorry, he’s a little shy. He’s never been to daycare before.” Shiro apologized for him, swaying Keith gently back and forth in an attempt to calm him down.

“Oh, that’s quite alright. It certainly isn’t the first time I’ve had a little one get upset on their first day. Would you like a minute to help him settle down?” She asked.

“That’d be great. I’m Shiro, by the way.” He would’ve stuck his hand out for her to shake, but he was a bit preoccupied with a very teary-eyed little boy at the moment.

“I’m Miss Ira. It’s a pleasure. I’ll let you be for a moment,” she said, politely excusing herself to give them some space.

Shiro looked around for a second before spotting a row of benches lining the wall, taking a seat there and settling Keith on his lap for the second time that morning.

“Don’t go! Don’t go!” Keith wailed, red-faced and sniffling wetly.

“Oh, sweetheart.” Shiro cooed, his heartbreaking a little at his baby’s distress. “It’s okay.” He said, hugging Keith tightly to his chest and then starting to bounce him lightly on his leg again once he let go. He took Keith’s plushie from where the boy was clutching it in a death grip behind his back and gave it to him again, letting the boy hug it more comfortingly against his chest. Keith let out another small whine.

Shiro looked up, seeing Miss Ira kneeling to talk to one of the preschoolers and then looking in his and Keith’s direction.

“Let’s take some deep breaths together, okay?” Shiro said, stilling his bouncing leg and guiding his little boy through a couple familiar breathing exercises he’d used to help Keith settle his anger at the Garrison.

Once Keith calmed down, Shiro let him lean against his chest again.

“I know you’re nervous, honey. It’s okay, but I also know you’re going to have lots of fun! You love playing, and that’s all you have to do! Look.” He said, nudging Keith. “Look at how fun that playground looks! They’ve got big slides and monkey bars and even a jungle gym. Look at how high the swings go!” Shiro exclaimed, pointing to one of the older kids trying to get maximum altitude from the playground equipment. “I know how much you like swinging—the way it makes your tummy feel all tingly on the inside,” Shiro said, going to attack Keith’s belly again because it never failed to make him laugh, “Just like flying!” 

Keith screeched a little at the unexpected tickling, but it did help his tears dry up a little bit. The swings did look fun. Really fun. Keith hadn’t been on a swing in years. And maybe…maybe if he asked nicely, someone would push him.

Shiro pointed out a few more things that looked like they might be especially enjoyable for Keith, things he realized he was now really looking forward to playing with. And now that he was also finally looking up and taking in his surroundings, he noticed a couple things.

The first and possibly most weirdly relieving of them all was the size of the other children. In all of Keith’s fantasies about this scenario over the past week, he could only ever imagine himself as a giant amongst a sea of much smaller statures. It was one of the reasons why he’d started to doubt himself. But, as he looked around, he noticed something astounding—some of the kids were actually bigger than him.

Not all of them, definitely, but just from looking around, Keith found he was actually a pretty average size compared to the rest of his new classmates, some a little shorter, some a little taller. That probably explained why there’d been so many clothing options geared toward toddlers in his size at the mall, if he was apparently the average height of a Galra preschooler. It took a surprisingly enormous amount of anxiety off his shoulders, once he realized, and his tears cleared up even more.  

The second thing he noticed was that even Shiro looked pretty small sitting on these big Galra sized benches with Keith, and Keith thought that was pretty funny. Shiro wasn’t little! He giggled.

The older man wasn’t sure what Keith had just found so amusing, but regardless, he was relieved to see his little boy smiling again. It looked like his tears had dried up all the way too.

“You ready to try again?” Shiro asked.

Keith looked around one more time a bit nervously, but also feeling eager to be able to play. He hadn’t gotten to play in so long, especially with toys like these. Getting to play with all the toys Shiro had gifted him with at the Garrison had been so sadly short-lived before his expulsion.

Keith nodded hesitantly.

“Alright.” Shiro said happily, planting a barrage of smooches against Keith’s cheeks, his forehead, the tip of his nose. Enough to make his little boy squeal in delight at the affection. After showing Keith enough love to last a lifetime, or at least enough to distract him from all the icky feelings swirling in his tummy for the time being, Shiro settled Keith onto his side again as they made their way back over to Miss Ira and another teacher.

However, as Shiro looked to Keith one last time to make sure he was ready to try his introduction again, he noticed the boy still had a very visible runny nose, most likely from all the tears that he’d been trying to hold back. That wouldn’t do. The older man looked around, spotting a box of tissues on Miss Ira’s desk.

He plucked one out of the container and bunched it up a little, pressing it gently to Keith’s face. “Blow for me, honey,” Shiro requested kindly, holding the tissue securely against the smaller boy’s nose. Keith did as he was told and giggled when his caregiver wiggled his nose side-to-side as he blew into it.

“There we go,” Shiro said, quiet enough for only Keith to hear, then balling the tissue up and wiping just above the little boy’s lip one last time in case he missed anything. He casually stuck the used Kleenex in his pocket to dispose of later.  

“Okay—I think we’re ready now.” Shiro proclaimed, lowering Keith down to the floor with a pat to his rear.

Keith slid carefully down Shiro’s front, but as he did, he felt his shirt ride up all the way past his belly button, flashing his stark white pullups with the multi-colored stars very obviously in front of his new teachers—and any other curious eyes that might’ve been looking his way. Shiro still had one hand on his bottom, too, helping Keith lower himself down. As soon as his feet hit the floor, Keith quickly scrambled out of Shiro’s hold and tugged the hem of his shirt back down so no one would see, red-faced and embarrassed.

He desperately wanted to turn around and explain to his teachers that they had the wrong idea—Keith was a big boy, and he knew how to use the potty. He could even go all by himself! However, he also didn’t want to risk calling even more unwanted attention to his pullups in case by some miracle they hadn’t actually noticed. As Keith turned around, though, all he saw were the two women speaking with Shiro. Maybe they really hadn’t seen it.

As the adults talked, Keith took a better look at his teachers. It was like Keith realized how tall adult Galra were all over again, and he was amazed. The lady who’d first greeted them had an extra foot on Shiro alone, but the second teacher standing next to her was tall even by Galra standards—easily almost nine feet. Keith barely came up to her waist. Noticeably, Keith had always felt short standing next to his fellow Blade members, but he’d never in his life felt this little.

Keith stood hugging Shiro’s arm until the two teachers eventually turned their attention to Keith.

The first lady lowered herself down more to Keith’s eye level, but with an appropriate amount of space between them.

“Hi, Keith! I’m Miss Ira. Are you ready for your first day? It’s going to be so fun!” she promised.

Keith nodded timidly, still clinging to Shiro’s arm.

“This is Miss Ezrin,” she introduced the much taller teacher Keith had been staring at, “she’s going to help you find your cubby and get you settled in. Have you decided which class you’d like to join today?” She asked with a smile.

Keith looked around at the large room, but his eyes were automatically drawn to the big cards of individual Galran letters hung up on the whiteboard by magnets. He pointed his finger in that direction.

“I wanna learn my letters…” he mumbled shyly, squishing his face against Shiro’s shoulder.

“That’s great!” Miss Ira already sounded so excited and even a little proud of him, it loosened some of the tension in his body. Her happiness was a bit infectious. Maybe this really would be as fun as Shiro said. “Why don’t you go with Miss Ezrin then, and she’ll help you get ready for preschool?”

At that, Keith immediately got nervous again, looking between the two teachers and his caregiver, not sure if he was ready to be away from Shiro in such a new place yet. He didn’t want him to leave. Apparently, his concern was obvious, because Miss Ira chimed in again.

“Don’t worry. Shiro’s not going anywhere yet—I still have to ask him a few questions. I’ll make sure he doesn’t leave without saying goodbye. How’s that?”

Keith looked up at his big brother.

“Go get ready, baby. I’ll be right here.” He reassured, patting Keith’s back and pushing him forward a little.

At that cue, Miss Ezrin stuck out her hand for Keith to take. It was so big, though, that Keith had to settle for grabbing onto a few of her fingers instead. Shiro gave Keith his red backpack to carry and handed the overnight bag to Miss Ezrin, then he was led over to the wall that was lined with boxes full of backpacks and shoes.

Shiro watched as Keith was taken by the hand to put away his things. Shiro saw his little boy look back at him a few times, unsure, and Shiro gave him a tiny wave as if to say, ‘don’t worry, I’m still here’. But he felt his own emotions start to well up a little, proud of Keith for taking this big step, but also worried. He wished he could stay and watch him, make sure nothing bad happened to Keith, and that he truly did have fun. He’d never let his baby out of his sight before, or let someone else care for him—it was a little overwhelming. But he trusted the Blade’s daycare, and he knew staying would be unreasonable. Overprotective. He imagined he wasn’t the first person to feel like this about their child, though.  

“I just need you to answer a few questions to finish filling out this paperwork—is that alright?” Miss Ira asked him.

“Of course.” Shiro replied, mentally returning to the conversation at hand.

“Great,” Miss Ira said, reaching over for a pen and a clipboard that was on her desk. “I assume you’re Keith’s primary caregiver?”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

“And what’s your relationship to him?”

Shiro hesitated for a moment. Rather than try to explain the history he and Keith had, though, he just opted to say, “I’m his older brother,” to simplify things, even if it technically wasn’t true.

“Alright. And we need two emergency contacts—again, I assume you would like to be one of them?”

“Yes.” Shiro rattled off his comm number for her as well.

When she asked who he wanted to be the second emergency contact, Shiro almost blurted out Allura’s name out of habit, before remembering she had no idea. No one had any idea except…

“Kolivan.” He offered.

Miss Ira didn’t seem surprised by that. She filled out Kolivan’s contact information from memory. She also must’ve known he was Keith’s CO, it seemed, considering she didn’t ask what their relationship was.

“I see he’s been vaccinated already. Is he taking any medications or have any illnesses we should be aware of?” was the next question.

“No to both.”

Miss Ira ticked a few boxes. “Great—how about allergies?”

“None.”

“Amazing,” she said, pleased this was going smoothly. “How’s he been doing with potty training? I noticed that he’s still in pullups—has he been making it to the bathroom in time for the most part?”

Shiro was a little surprised by the question, but he answered readily. “Oh, he’s fully potty trained.” Shiro said easily. “His pullups are just a precaution. To be honest, I’m not sure how he’ll do today. He’s never really gotten to play with other kids his age before, and I don’t know if he’ll get distracted and forget to go or if he’ll be too nervous, or what, but I know he would hate to have an accident. It probably wouldn’t hurt to give him a reminder to go potty every now and then, though, if that’s possible.”

“Alright, I’ll make a note of that.” She scribbled something on the clipboard.

“Also, if he does have an accident, or he needs more protection, I’d prefer it if you’d change him into one of the pullups or diapers I packed in his backpack. I know I said he didn’t have any allergies, but I am worried about any skin sensitivities he may or may not have. I bought special supplies. He did get a rash once, from the laundry detergent we first used on the ship. We buy a different brand for him now. I just don’t want him to be uncomfortable.” Shiro started overexplaining.

Miss Ira hummed accordingly, scribbling more notes on the form.

After a brief pause, the taller woman looked up from her clipboard. “Well, alright, I think that should do it. If you’d like, you can have another seat while Miss Ezrin and Keith finish up at the cubbies.”

Shiro did just that.

Meanwhile, Miss Ezrin guided Keith gently to the back of the room, where rows of cubbies were lined against the wall.

“Do you know which cubby is yours, Keith?” She quizzed him.

Keith looked closely at the open hidey-holes in front of him, noticing that each one was labelled with what he assumed to be a name. He perked up. Keith didn’t really know the Galran alphabet, but if there was one thing he could read, it was his name.

He went around, inspecting all the cubbies that were still empty, until he came to one at the end of the row. Apparently, it had his last name, too, because there was a second word written on the label, but it started with the same letter as his first name, so it must be this one!

“Here!” Keith exclaimed excitedly, pointing down at the empty cubby.

“Very good!” Miss Ezrin praised him, and Keith beamed. He was doing good! He knew how to read his name!

Keith got down on his knees and started putting his backpack in the empty space, and Miss Ezrin followed him, putting his overnight bag in there too.

“Okay, Keith, are you ready to learn the first two rules of preschool?” She asked him faux-seriously.

Keith nodded his head with the same amount of playful solemnity. This was fun already.

“Alright. The first rule of preschool is that when we come to school in the morning, we always put our things away in our cubbies before we go play. Okay?”

Keith nodded again.

“The second rule is about our shoes. In preschool, we only wear our shoes when we want to play on the playground,” Miss Ezrin pointed to all the playground equipment that was stationed right behind them, and all the kids still wearing their shoes. “But when we’re on the carpet, we put our shoes back in our cubbies and only wear our socks. Think you can remember that?” She asked.

Keith looked around at all the kids playing on the three huge carpets that each covered a different section of the daycare, all in their socks. Immediately, Keith was excited. He didn’t have to wear shoes to school? He wasn’t allowed to wear shoes to school? This place was the best! Keith had always hated the way his shoes cramped his toes, and the way his socks sometimes didn’t feel good in them. He used to get in trouble for taking them off all the time in class when he was in primary school.

Keith nodded his head more vigorously in understanding, excited to free his feet, before stopping.

“What about here?” He asked, pointing to the linoleum tile they were standing on.

“We can wear our shoes or our socks on the tile.” The taller woman explained.

“Okay.” Keith chirped, proceeding to sit down on the ground to take off his shoes. Now he could show off his cool rocket ship socks too.

After shoving his new sneakers hastily into his cubby, he was left with nothing except his stuffed animal. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to put it in his cubby or not. He hoped not. Then he’d be all alone again. Keith looked nervously between the stuffed animal and Miss Ezrin.

“Who do you have there, Keith?” the teacher asked, gesturing to the toy.

Keith held the stuffed animal in his lap, petting its squishy, round body somewhat anxiously, “Um, his name’s Mr. Po,” he stated. He’d actually just named the plushie in his head about five minutes ago while all the adults had been talking. There hadn’t been much else to do.

“He looks very soft.” Miss Ezrin observed. “Is he your friend?”

Keith gripped Mr. Po a little tighter. “Uh-huh…” he murmured quietly, nodding.

“Well, would you like to put him in your cubby for now, or would you like to play with him before Morning Meeting time?”

“…wanna play…” Keith said, still a little shy at just the thought of having to give Mr. Po up.

“Alright!” she said brightly, like Keith had had a brilliant idea. “Why don’t we say goodbye to your big brother, and then you can play with Mr. Po?” She suggested.

“Shiro!” Keith exclaimed at once, somehow nearly forgetting that his brother was still here. He looked around, spotting the older man sitting on the benches from earlier. Immediately, Keith scrambled up from his seated position on the floor up to his feet, practically sprinting over to his caregiver.

Shiro’s eyes had been on Keith the whole time, and when he saw his little boy making his way over full speed ahead, he stood up, prepared to intercept him.

“Shiro!” Keith yelled again, practically body-slamming him in a hug. Shiro wheezed, nearly toppling over.

“Woah, bud, careful there,” he warned, wrapping his arms around Keith the same way the boy’s were wrapped around him. After a second of thought, however, he bent a little lower, picking Keith up off the ground.

The little boy squeaked in surprise as his feet left contact with the floor, wrapping his legs around Shiro’s waist instead for more stability.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Shiro said, chuckling lightly and brushing some of Keith’s fringe out of his face. “Are you ready to have fun at daycare?”

“Uh-huh!” Keith smiled, showing off all his teeth in a big grin.

“That’s my boy,” Shiro praised, ruffling his hair. “Won’t miss me too much?”

At this, Keith hummed uncertainly. “Mmm…maybe…”

“You’ll be alright,” he reassured, rubbing Keith’s back the way Shiro knew he liked. “I’ll come pick you up tomorrow morning, okay? And you can call me if you need to, right?”

“Right!” Keith agreed. He’d almost forgotten.

Shiro set Keith down on the ground again, but not before giving him another kiss on the temple.

“And you’ll be a good boy for me, right? You’ll listen to your teachers?”

“I’m always a good boy!” Keith proclaimed like it was obvious.

And for the most part it was true. Keith always did his best to be good when he was little. Since his regression was mostly rooted in a desire to redo his childhood, that meant Keith wanted a chance to be different than his childhood self had been, as well.

All throughout Keith’s childhood, adults had told him that he was too troublesome and ill-behaved. That he was bad, and a burden, and that was why no one ever wanted him. Why no one liked him. Why he didn’t have any friends. It had made Keith lonely, and insecure, and much too wary of trusting others, always worried they would find out just how awful he really was and end up leaving him, too.

He didn’t really understand, though. His daddy had always told Keith he was a good boy, but after he went to heaven, no one else seemed to agree. Keith worried. His daddy was only one person, after all. And if so many people thought Keith was a bad boy, then it had to be true, right? His daddy must’ve had it all wrong—Keith had been bad the whole time.

But now was his chance to change things. He didn’t want to be bad anymore. He wanted to prove he could be a good boy. He could be good, and this time around all his teachers and classmates would like him! He’d have lots of friends this time!

Shiro worried often that Keith put too much of his self-worth in the hands of others. In their judgments of his goodness or lack thereof. It was a tricky place to tread sometimes, for the older man. He did want Keith to behave himself, but he didn’t want him to get too upset if something happened. He didn’t want Keith to think Shiro wouldn’t love him anymore just because he’d misbehaved or made a mistake. It was the farthest thing from the truth, but it made it difficult to punish him appropriately at times when sending him to the corner for five minutes had Keith in a nuclear meltdown, desperately shrieking out ‘No bye-byes!’ over and over in an attempt to get his caregiver not to leave him and sobbing so hard Shiro thought he might throw up.

To say Keith was a little rejection-sensitive while he was regressed was the understatement of the century.

Still, Shiro replied, “I know you are,” and Keith smiled proudly.

Shiro looked at him with that same pride reflected in his eyes, though still feeling the same worry all parents dropping their kid off at daycare for the very first time probably felt. In an attempt to suppress the tears—or at least make sure Keith didn’t notice—the older man opened his arms wide and asked, “Can I get one more hug?”

Keith complied easily, throwing himself back in Shiro’s arms. When the hug had been long enough, just to be silly, Shiro twisted them side-to-side quickly and Keith opened his mouth to make a random, monotone vocalization that pitched differently with every twist, making him giggle when Shiro finally let go.

“Okay.” Shiro said lastly, “Love you, buddy. I’ll see you tomorrow.” The older man gave his little boy one more big, exaggerated kiss on the cheek. Keith made a face.

Still, he called after Shiro, “Love you, too! Bye-bye!”

And after Shiro walked out the door and back down the hall, Keith followed him the entire time from the other side of the glass window, both of them waving goodbye to each other all the while until Shiro was finally out of sight.

Then it was just Keith and Mr. Po, ready to brave the strange, untested waters of daycare, together.

Chapter Text

Now that Shiro was gone, Keith suddenly felt much more off-centered. He stood by the windows, clutching Mr. Po in his arms, and turned around. For what felt like a long while, he just stood and stared at everything—everyone—around him, afraid to take the next step.

He didn’t know what to do. He wanted to play, but he didn’t want to play by himself. Keith always played by himself before—now was his chance to play with other kids. Make a new friend. But how was he supposed to get someone to play with him? It seemed like everybody was already busy playing with their own friends. He didn’t know anybody, and they didn’t know him. What if he asked to play with someone and they said no? What if no one wanted to play with him? What was he supposed to do then?

Keith fingered the pacifier that was still clipped to his shirt nervously. He almost put it back in his mouth to help calm himself down, before remembering he was supposed to be a big kid right now. He was going to learn all his letters today, and he didn’t want to drop to anything smaller than this. He also didn’t want the other kids to make fun of him.

Hastily, Keith pulled the pacifier and matching clip off his shirt with a harsh tug and stuffed it in his pocket. For later, maybe. For emergencies.

Instead, he grabbed Mr. Po and brought him higher up to his face, deciding to nibble on one of his nubby ears. That was better. Keith untensed a little.

Soon after that, Miss Ira and another little girl caught Keith’s eye from across the room, trying to get his attention. They both waved him over.

Keith wasn’t sure what they wanted, but they both seemed happy, so he didn’t think he was in trouble. He shuffled his way over, still attempting to nurse on the ear of his plushie for comfort.

However, as Keith got in range of Miss Ira and the girl, his teacher reached gently for his arm to pull Mr. Po away from his mouth.

“Let’s not chew on our toys, dear. We don’t want to get them dirty, do we?” She asked him rhetorically.

Keith whined lowly but remembered what Shiro said about behaving. He could listen to his teachers. He could! He was a good boy. He didn’t bring Mr. Po back up to his mouth, but he did stare at the top of his head longingly. It was okay. He was a big boy. He was gonna be good. For Shiro.

“Keith, I want to introduce you to someone. This is Tavri.”

The girl, who was just a smidge taller than Keith, smiled brightly at him, waving excitedly. “Hi!” She beamed.

Keith took in the way her hair was braided into two pigtails at the top of her head, and the cute bird-like hair accessories that tied them off at the bottom. She was wearing a soft looking pink sweater and loose jeans, but her socks had racecars on them. Keith thought that was cool, and she seemed excited to meet him. Maybe she would play with him? Keith relaxed a little further, though his guard wasn’t lowered completely. He couldn’t help it.

He gave a timid wave back, shyly mumbling his own “Hi…” in a much smaller voice.

Miss Ira continued, “She’s going to be your buddy today and help you learn how our preschool works. If you have any questions, you can ask her and she can help you, alright?”

Keith looked at the girl, nodding confidently in agreement. He nodded too, in understanding.

“Great! Now why don’t you two go play together before Morning Meeting starts?” She suggested, before turning away to finish something at her desk.

Keith didn’t even care that he was basically being assigned a playmate. In fact, he was actually kind of grateful for it, and Tavri seemed friendly. Maybe she could even be his first friend here.

“I like your zaffir.” Tavri said immediately, pointing at his stuffed toy.

Keith assumed that’s what this animal was called. “Oh, thanks. His name is Mr. Po.” He informed her.

“Cool!” she replied, “Can I see him?”

Keith immediately tensed. The thought of letting someone else have possession of Mr. Po made him bristle in defense. It wasn’t safe. Every time one of his bigger foster siblings or the other kids at the home asked to see something of Keith’s, he never got it back. That was, if they even bothered to ask at all. Most of the time they just took whatever it was straight out of his hands. In Keith’s mind, asking to see one of his toys was just a polite attempt to steal it away from him. It was how he’d lost pretty much every toy he’d ever had by the time he was ten years old.

Back at the Garrison, Keith hadn’t had to worry about that. There was no one around to take his toys from him, and he’d been able to relax while he played with them specifically for that reason. But now he was up in space. He’d left all his old toys behind, and now Mr. Po was the only one he had. He was Keith’s best friend, and if Tavri stole Mr. Po from him, then Keith wouldn’t have anybody. He’d be all alone again. And, even worse, he’d have to watch as his best friend played with someone that had been mean to him.

But Keith also knew good boys shared their toys. He knew it because, at some point, Keith had started to understand that letting other people handle his things meant he wouldn’t be getting them back so, eventually, he’d stopped sharing anything. He stopped being easy to trick. He started being bad, and his teachers and the other adults around him—his foster parents, his classmates’ parents—started getting mad at him. They punished him, because Keith wasn’t a good boy, and he needed to learn his lesson. He needed to learn that sharing was what nice boys did. Sharing was good.

But Keith didn’t want to be nice if it meant all his toys would get stolen. He didn’t understand what was good about losing the only things that helped him feel better when he was angry or sad or both.

But he had to try, right? Things were supposed to be different now. Keith could make them different. And if he didn’t let Tavri see Mr. Po, then she’d probably decide she didn’t like Keith, and he was still a stranger here. If he was mean to Tavri, then he was sure everyone would know, and then definitely no one would want to play with him. Keith would ruin his time at preschool before it even truly started.

Keith hugged Mr. Po especially close to him then and asked cautiously, “You’re gonna give him back, right?”

“Yeah! I just wanna see how soft he is.” Tavri explained.

Well, Mr. Po was really soft.

Extremely reluctantly, Keith loosened his grip around the toy and said, “Okay…” letting Tavri take him from his hands.

“Oh, he’s super soft!” she exclaimed, squeezing Keith’s toy as hard as she could in her arms.

Keith almost yelped. It was all he could do not to shout at her that she was hurting him! She was hugging him too tight! Was Mr. Po okay? What if something happened to him?

Keith made a couple half-aborted anxious sounds in his throat, high-pitched and keening, making similar barely suppressed nervous motions with his hands, trying his best not to rip Mr. Po from her hands. Keith squirmed uncomfortably with distress, but Tavri seemed oblivious to his unease.

Very soon, however, she released him, handing the stuffed toy back to him. Keith snatched Mr. Po back quickly, cradling him carefully against his chest and petting him gently, like the toy was the one that needed to be soothed after such an overwhelming experience and not Keith. Well, he couldn’t deny the calm affection helped him too. He just needed to make sure Mr. Po was alright.

When he seemed to be, the boy heaved a sigh of relief. He definitely wouldn’t be letting anyone else handle Mr. Po again any time soon.

“Thanks, Keith!” Tavri said to his generosity.

Keith didn’t say anything in response, but he was glad Tavri didn’t seem to notice his bad attitude. He wasn’t mad at her, necessarily, but next time he would make sure to tell her to be more gentle. However, for the most part, he was just glad she gave Mr. Po back at all.

“So, what do you wanna play first?” She asked him.

And that, at least, Keith had an easy answer for.

It was something he’d only ever seen once before in his life, when he’d gone to a classmate’s birthday party in elementary school. In all honesty, Keith had kind of hated the kid and the kid felt the same about him, but his mom had made him invite everybody in class, which included Keith. Keith, of course, hadn’t wanted to go at all, but his foster mom saw it as the perfect excuse to get him out of her hair for a couple hours, and all for the price of one free, re-gifted toy truck.

Keith’s toy truck. His favorite one, to be specific. He’d almost gotten a beating at the time for complaining that his daddy had gotten it for him, and he wanted to keep it, but Keith had shut up quick when his foster mother threatened to lock him in the closet for the weekend. In the end, Keith had heartbrokenly parted with the toy. But perhaps the worst part of all—the kid hadn’t even liked it.

The whole memory left a horribly sad, sick feeling in his tummy that made Keith not want to play anymore, but he tried to ignore it. There had been one thing at the party Keith had been extremely jealous of. It was a set of kinetic sand the boy’s parents had gifted him, but that none of the partygoers had gotten to play with because his parents hadn’t wanted them all to make a mess.

The sand table in the corner was one of the things Shiro had pointed out to him earlier that Keith had immediately locked onto. It was easy to tell it was kinetic sand too because of its vibrant blue color and the way the kids had been making sandcastles with it without having to use any water.

This was like one of his childhood dreams finally coming true. Keith forgot the party. Preschool was the best place ever!

“Can we play with the sand?” Keith asked excitedly, but it was less like a question and more like he was just waiting for Tavri to agree with him.

Luckily, she did. “Oh, yeah! The sand’s awesome! Let me show you!” she said, taking Keith by the hand and pulling him over to the deep table in the corner of the room.

Keith stood in front of it in awe; there was so much. And it was full of different molds to pack sand into different shapes, some geometric, some animals, some obviously meant for building structures. Keith set Mr. Po gently against one of the table legs so he wouldn’t get covered in it.

“Keith, watch this!” Tavri said, waving around some square wand-looking thing.

She tapped it to the surface of the sand and then very slowly raised it upwards, a thin chain of magnetic sand stretching between where the wand was in the air and where the rest of the sand was on the table, before the connection grew too weak and the chain broke.

“Wait!” Tavri said, “I can make it bigger!”

“Woah!” Keith said, immediately enchanted by it. “I wanna try!”

Tavri handed him another magnetic stick so he could do it too.

For what felt like a long time, Keith sat on his haunches, watching as close as he could get as he manipulated the sand with just the magnetic wand in his hand, watching it get pushed and pulled as if by magic. All the while, Tavri tried over and over again to make the longest magnetic chain of sand she could, and even though it never got much longer than her first attempt, Keith still thought it was really cool.

It all changed when he finally touched it, though. He didn’t know why, but he hadn’t expected it to be that soft, or that squishy, and immediately Keith felt like he was in heaven. He didn’t even have to play with it to have fun. He gladly would’ve stood at the table all day, just shoving his hands wrist-deep into the sand and squeezing it between his fingers over and over again. It was addictive. It was very hard for him not to want to squeeze some into a ball and shove it into one of his many pockets to play with later, but he knew it would fall apart too easily and make his pocket all sandy.

Eventually, Tavri roped him into helping her try to build the “tallest, bestest sandcastle ever”. It was surprisingly harder than Keith thought it would be; they couldn’t stack more than three blocks on top of one another before the castle started to lose its shape. Keith told Tavri they should make the bottom bigger, like a pyramid, so they did, and that time they were able to go four layers tall before pieces started crumbling off. Then Tavri said they should just make it a pyramid instead, so they both got to work smoothing the sides and trying to make the top as pointy as possible.

It kind of turned more into a wonky, uneven cone shape, but it was close enough.

Then, Keith began making everything much more elaborate when he started creating a story line about how now they had to make the pyramid extra nice-looking, because the old king of the sand empire was buried in their pyramid, and if they didn’t make it cool enough, he would come back and curse everyone and all the villagers’ crops would die. Keith got to work filling more decorative molds and trying to stick them against the pyramid’s walls, but most of them either fell off right away or made the pyramid crumble more, so he settled with flattening the sand around the base of the pyramid and sticking the molded sand there instead. Tavri started making an empty moat around the structure, too. She said it was full of giant, man-eating salamanders, that way if the king did come back from the dead, he wouldn’t be able to get out of the pyramid.

“Good idea,” Keith said, wondering why he hadn’t thought of that. Then he had his own idea. “Wait! I’ll make a fence, too.” He said, deciding he’d laid enough decorations to appease the king’s spirit and began building what looked a lot more like a levee for a river than a fence, but whatever. What was important was protecting the villagers. Tavri joined in his efforts when she finished digging the trench.

Keith was having so much fun, so absorbed in their make-believe that he was honestly disappointed when Miss Ira and another teacher Keith hadn’t met yet called everyone back to reality, back to the center of the room to start Morning Meeting time.

“C’mon, we can finish building it later,” Tavri said when she saw Keith pouting. She motioned for him to follow her.

Keith walked next to her as they arrived to the front of the room where all the other kids were starting to gather and sit in a circle on the carpet, with Miss Ira and a male teacher sitting in chairs at the head. Tavri sat down at the front near Miss Ira and patted the carpet next to her, indicating for Keith to sit down, too.

It was another moment before all the children were settled, a moment that Keith took to rub his hands against the soft rug underneath him. Now that he thought about it, they didn’t really have rugs on the castle ship—it was all cold, hard, space-age tile. But the floor here at preschool was plush and warm and cozy. He thought he could fall asleep on it if he were laying down. It was another nice thing for him to touch, like the sand, and feeling nice textures always kept Keith deeply in headspace. He didn’t know why. He continued kneading the carpet like a cat as Miss Ira spoke. 

“Good morning, everyone.” She said with a smile.

In unison, all the children responded, “Good morning, Miss Ira!”

The man next to Miss Ira repeated her, “Good morning!” He greeted them happily. He was young and his face was very expressive. Keith thought he seemed nice.

Again, the children replied together, “Good morning, Mr. Klaxil!”

“How are you, today?” He asked everyone, and a bunch of kids raised their hands. Keith was not one of them, however, never one for the spotlight. Especially in unfamiliar situations.

Mr. Klaxil called on a handful of the children, who replied with variations of things like, “I’m great!” and “I’m happy!” and so on, including one child who was apparently still sleepy from waking up. While they did so, Keith looked around, wondering where Miss Ezrin was. He found her towering form easily behind him, where she was helping take care of the younger daycare children.

Was she not one of the preschool teachers? Keith was kind of disappointed. He’d liked her.

His attention was immediately snatched back to the circle when he heard Miss Ira announce, “I have exciting news today. We have a new friend joining our class!”

Keith knew right away she was talking about him, even though he still kind of hoped she wasn’t. Most of the kids turned to look at him, though, since his was the only face they were unfamiliar with. Keith shrunk a little under all the attention, feeling shy again.

“Who wants to ask our new friend what his name is?” Mr. Klaxil asked.

A bunch of hands shot up this time, including Tavri’s, even though she already knew his name. Keith blushed slightly, still shy but also happy that so many of his classmates seemed interested in him. It made him feel special in a good way that he wasn’t used to.

Mr. Klaxil called on a boy named Rilo.

“Hi! What’s your name?” He asked.

“Hi,” Keith said by way of introduction, “I’m Keith.” A couple kids murmured his name like an echo, testing it out in their mouths.

“Can we all say ‘Hi, Keith,’” Miss Ira asked everyone when they quieted down again, waving at him.

Together the class and Mr. Klaxil followed suit with a bright, “Hi, Keith!” some of the kids waving to him like their teacher.

“Hi.” Keith said again, a tiny smile blooming on his face. He hugged his knees up to his chest, rocking back and forth on his heels slightly.

“Does anyone want to ask our new friend a question?” Miss Ira prompted the children. A few more hands went up. “Make sure you introduce yourself too, please.” She reminded, before gesturing to another boy sitting across from Keith.

“Hello! I’m Omi. What’s your favorite color? Mine’s yellow.” He chirped out.

Keith knit his fingers together in front of his legs as he continued to sway. “Um, I like red…” he responded a bit quietly, not sure how his answer would be received since it wasn’t the same as Omi’s favorite color. But he needn’t have worried.

“Oh! Like my shirt!” the boy replied, seemingly pleased by that. Keith noted he was indeed wearing a red shirt. “Cool!”

Sensing the end of the exchange, the hands went back up.

A few more kids asked Keith questions of a similar caliber, like what kind of foods he liked, what his favorite fruit was, one girl even asked what his favorite flower was. Keith didn’t really have a favorite flower, but said he liked red ones, especially if they smelled nice.

Keith breathed a mild sigh of relief though when Miss Ira said anyone else who still had a question could ask him during free play time, and they moved on. Together, the class recited the date and the day of the week as Mr. Klaxil pointed to the section of the whiteboard where that information was always written, and then Miss Ira listed out the schedule for the day and what they were going to have for lunch. Keith had no idea what it was because he’d never been able to read the Blade cafeteria menu—he just ate what they gave him. Keith was good at that. But it was usually pretty good, anyway, so he wasn’t that worried about it.

But what Keith was really focused on was the fact that they were going to learn the letters right after Morning Meeting! He hoped it would end soon. He was practically vibrating in place as he sat on the floor, gazing at all the letters strung up around the board. The only ones he recognized were the ones in his name. He looked around at all the posters and signs hung around the room, looking for those same letters, like a scavenger hunt in his head. He was able to find lots.

Keith was distracted now, and excited, so he missed a lot of what else was said during the meeting. He just wanted it to be over! In his impatience, he went back to running his hands all over the soft carpet, occasionally patting it in excitement, and also fiddling with his socked toes as well.

Then, after what seemed like an eon, Miss Ira instructed all the children to go to the tables behind them and sit in their assigned seats. It was finally time to learn the alphabet!

Chapter Text

As students rushed past Keith to sit at the round tables set up in the middle of the room, Keith scrambled up from where he’d been sitting crisscross-applesauce on the floor and over to Miss Ira. Standing this close to her, he had to look up in order to make eye-contact with her.

“Where’s my seat?” he asked excitedly, bouncing on the balls of his feet. 

Miss Ira hardly had to answer, however. As she placed a hand on Keith’s upper back to turn him around and guide him to his seat, he saw Tavri waving frantically, trying to get his attention.

“Keith! Keith! Over here!” She flagged him down.

Keith looked up at Miss Ira, who nodded in Tavri’s direction. He practically skipped over to her.

“You sit next to me!” She announced as he got closer, pointing to a piece of white tape on the table in front of one of the chairs with his name written on it. Tavri had one by her seat too. Keith pulled the chair out and sat down with a big grin on his face, Tavri making a quieter, content-sounding “Yay!” as he did.

Keith’s heart was light, especially at Tavri’s excitement that they got to sit next to each other. Keith was happy about it, too. Maybe they were already friends. He’d have to ask later.

Keith looked around at his other tablemates—Omi, the boy from earlier, was there, as was another girl Keith hadn’t met yet. The table also had two empty seats. Keith waved hesitantly at them, trying his best to be friendly. He knew Shiro would want him to. Omi smiled brightly and waved happily back, but the girl seemed a bit more shy. That was okay though, Keith was kind of shy, too.

Then he noticed Miss Ira was standing in the front of the class holding the big cards with one letter each on them. She called for their attention, asking if they were ready to start the lesson. The children gave a loud, affirmative response.

First, naturally, came the boring stuff—memorization.

Well, maybe it was boring to everyone else if they already knew the letters, but Keith was enthralled. He was so excited to finally learn. He did his best to pay attention, thoughtfully trying to catalogue all of the letters in his head.

Miss Ira said the name and sound of each letter twice, pausing for Keith and his classmates to repeat after her. Keith was loud and enthusiastic about it for once, as were many of the other kids. She went through it a third time, saying the letter and its sound just once, going faster. There were only 24 letters in the Galran alphabet, so all of this only took a few minutes. After that, Miss Ira gave them a little quiz by pulling out random letters and asking them to shout out the name and sound together. Since it was only Keith’s first real go-around with the alphabet, he forgot a handful of them, but for the most part he was right on track with the other kids. He was feeling very proud of himself. Shiro always told him he was a quick learner.

After that, there was a song! Keith didn’t know the Galra even had an alphabet song, which was already exciting in itself, but Keith’s eyes grew wide as he saw Mr. Klaxil pull out an instrument that looked like some kind of wonky space-guitar and sat in front of the class to play it. Mostly for Keith’s benefit, he asked them first to just listen to the song, and then they could sing it all together.

When Mr. Klaxil started singing, Keith could only think that the way he sang sounded clean and smooth. It was very nice. Maybe not famous-singer worthy, per se, but the timbre of his voice had an unmistakably comforting quality to it that reminded Keith of the times his daddy had sung him lullabies to help him go back to sleep when he’d had bad dreams. He wondered if Mr. Klaxil had his own children. Keith thought he would probably be a good dad, but thinking about that just made Keith miss his own. Usually, he was pretty good at blocking that whole part of his life out and forgetting about it, but his defenses were always involuntarily lowered in headspace. Right now, he found himself wishing his daddy was still alive.

However, before Keith’s lip could get too wobbly, he thought of Shiro. If his daddy were still alive, Keith probably never would’ve met Shiro. And maybe the trade-off wasn’t exactly the same, but he was still so happy to have his big brother in his life. Keith wanted to say he couldn’t imagine what his life would be like without him, but the truth was that he could imagine it, because he’d lived it. And it was awful, and lonely, and it made Keith so, so sad just thinking about it. Keith had never told Shiro how much he’d loved him before he left. It was one of his biggest regrets. He’d been so unbelievably lucky to get a second chance—and now Keith didn’t ever waste an opportunity to tell Shiro how much he meant to him.

Eventually, Keith pulled himself out of his thoughts when Miss Ira passed between the tables, nudging him gently when she noticed he was staring forlornly into the face of the table. Keith turned his attention back to Mr. Klaxil.

Luckily, the tune of the song was easy to follow—predictable even—and chipper. Surprisingly catchy, but not too fast. Soon enough, Keith found himself bouncing slightly to the beat, humming the tune quietly to himself once he caught on to the pattern.

Finally, the song ended on a quiet, long chord that faded slowly. However, as soon as it did, Mr. Klaxil repeated it a few times in quick succession, punchy and much louder, purposely not fitting in with the rest of the song and making Keith and the other preschoolers giggle and laugh at him for being silly.

Next, it was everyone’s turn to sing. Miss Ira started clapping to the beat as Mr. Klaxil played the guitar and many of the kids followed suit, some more on beat than others. Keith thought he was doing a pretty bang-up job of singing his letters when he suddenly heard hand claps coming from behind him, which was funny because his table was one of the one’s in the far back. Keith whipped himself around to look at what was going on.

Apparently, in the middle of the song, the kindergarteners had migrated over to the preschool area, and they brought their chairs with them, too. Right now, they were just standing in the back of the classroom with their teachers, singing along with them and seemingly waiting for something. Keith was intrigued.

When the song finished, Miss Ira announced that the kindergarteners had come over because they were going to do an art project together, and it involved some writing, so the older kids had come to help them and do the project too. She gestured for the kindergarteners to bring their chairs to the preschoolers’ round tables and find a place to sit.

Normally, Keith would’ve shied away from the older kids. Older kids when he was little had never meant anything good for him, and he was always very wary of them. They liked to take his things, or annoy him and try to make him mad for no reason, or just make fun of him for things he had no control over. He became uncomfortably self-conscious of his pullups again, tugging his shirt down more and praying no one would notice. Most of the kindergarteners were a fair bit bigger than him too, which didn’t bode well.

However, at the mention that they were going to get to practice writing, a lot of Keith’s apprehension was overshadowed by excitement. They were doing writing already? That’s what big kids did! He’d never, ever written the letters before—he’d never really had a reason to—but now he realized how much he wanted to. This was so exciting. He decided he was going to make his letters really neat and pretty—the best in the class. But first he needed something to actually write with.

Miss Ira told the students to take out a pencil, their colored pencils or crayons, and their glue sticks. Most of the kids reached into their desks (or their pencil boxes in the kindergarteners’ cases) to get out their supplies, but Keith’s things were still in his backpack! He immediately raised his hand.

“Yes, Keith?”

“Can I go to my cubby, please?” He asked, making sure to be polite. Shiro always told him it was important to say please and thank you.

“Yes, you may, but be quick, okay?” she prompted kindly.  

Keith nodded vigorously, scrambling out of his seat to get his pencils and crayons and glue stick out of his backpack as fast as possible. He hurried back to his seat just as Mr. Klaxil was passing out papers to everyone at the tables. Keith got a special paper, though.

Keith could speak Galran pretty well after being on the Blade’s base for a while, he just didn’t know how to read. If he knew the sounds, though, then he could figure out what it said. The other kids, though, had been in preschool much longer than him already, so they were pretty good at sounding out the letters and being able to read things that were an age-appropriate level for them, but since this was Keith’s very first day and he didn’t know the alphabet very well, he got a paper with an English-transliterated version of the sounds on top of each letter. He was glad about that, otherwise it might’ve taken him an incredibly long time to sound out all the words on it.

His face fell dramatically, though, as the meaning of the words on the paper started to register.

Miss Ira began explaining the project. She started with a question.

“Does anyone know what tomorrow is?” She began. She looked around the room, but only one little girl had her hand raised. The teacher called on her.

“Tomorrow’s Sunday!” she proclaimed confidently.

“That’s right!” Miss Ira praised, “Tomorrow is Sunday. But it’s also a very special Sunday. Do you know why it’s special?” She looked around at everyone again, but it seemed no one knew the answer. She continued, telling them the answer. “Tomorrow is Parent’s Day!”

A round of oh-I-remember-now murmurs and mumbles rumbled through the classroom, especially from the kindergarteners.

“Do you know what Parent’s Day is for? Why do we celebrate this day?” Miss Ira asked again. More hands went up this time. She called on one of the older children.

“It’s a day to say thank you to our mommies and daddies!” A girl sitting at the table next to Keith’s said.

“Very good!” Miss Ira always looked so delighted, but Keith’s expression was only starting to fall apart more.

“To celebrate Parent’s Day, we’re going to make a card for our mommies and daddies. Some of the card is already written, but it’s our job to fill in the blanks about our own parents. For example, the first sentence of our cards say, ‘My mommy is blank and my daddy is blank.’ For my card, I wrote ‘My mommy is caring, and my daddy is kind.’ We have to write down words that describe our own mommies and daddies. Then, when we’re done filling in the blanks, we can make our cards extra pretty! We can color them, and draw pictures, and we even have special decorations!”

The whole time she explained the project, Mr. Klaxil had been going around to each table, portioning out sequins, string, tiny beads, small feathers, and pieces of paper cut out into fun shapes onto paper plates for the children to use for their cards. He’d started with Keith’s table in the back, and already most of his tablemates were fiddling with the decorations and arranging them on their cards, from what Keith could tell through his wet, blurry vision. They were oblivious to his upset—Keith didn’t know whether to feel grateful or neglected.

Miss Ira asked the kindergarteners to help the preschoolers spell words if they needed it, and if neither of them knew then they could raise their hands to ask their teachers. Finally, she ended her explanation by saying, “Our mommies and daddies love us very much, so let’s show them how much we love them, too!”

At that, Keith finally burst into tears, sobbing quietly in his seat. He couldn’t stop it. His face was screwed up and red, and tears were streaming quickly down his face. He sniffled and tried to wipe them away, but already they were dripping off his chin and onto his lap. The little gasp he made on his first inhale made everyone at the table look at him, and Keith immediately wanted to hide. He hated being the center of attention like this. It was bad to cry, especially in front of other kids. Especially in front of older kids. They were going to make fun of him. He felt like he was in elementary school all over again.

But Tavri was at his side right away.

“Keith, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?” She asked softly, sympathetically, unsure why her friend was so upset all of the sudden.

But Keith just shook his head, trying even harder to suppress his sobs, which only made them come out harsher and more strangled. More alarming.

The other kids looked at him a bit uncomfortably, also unsure what to do in this situation, especially because they didn’t know what was wrong. They didn’t know how to comfort him.

Tavri raised her hand, trying to get the attention of the nearest adult. One of the kindergarten teachers saw Keith’s teary, red face and Tavri’s own look of distress, immediately rushing over to their table.

“Something’s wrong with Keith!” Tavri said a bit tactlessly as soon as the teacher was in range.

Now it was just getting worse! He didn’t want to be crying at all, let alone in front of an audience, and now Tavri was just getting more people involved. Getting grown-ups involved! Grown-ups especially hated it when Keith cried. They always told him to stop whining, that his problems weren’t that bad, that he needed to stop being such a damn baby or they were going to give him something to actually cry about. Keith always got punished for getting upset, and now that the teacher was here, he was starting to panic. Shiro wasn’t here to protect him. He didn’t want to be hurt!

The teacher kneeled down to be closer to him, and Keith nearly choked on his cries.

“Hey honey, what’s the matter?” She asked kindly, though her tone of voice didn’t register at all in Keith’s panicked mind.

His throat felt tight and constricted, partially with his sobs and partially with fear—he couldn’t get any words out. Oh no, oh no, oh no. The only thing grown-ups hated more than Keith’s crying was not knowing why he was crying—because then they wouldn’t know how to shut him up—but Keith couldn’t have spoken even if his life depended on it. He couldn’t talk. The sob that burst out of him then was ugly, frightened, and burned all through his chest as it left his lungs.

“It’s okay, it’s okay.” She tried to shush him, “Why don’t we go to the back of the room? Is that alright?” She asked, but Keith couldn’t reply.

It didn’t really matter though, because the next minute the teacher was carefully grabbing his small hand and taking him out of his seat, back to the row of benches again that lined the back of the class under the windows. She sat Keith down gently on the cushioned seat, still sobbing just as hard as he had been.

Minutes passed. Was this his punishment for crying? Just sitting on the benches while the rest of the class did the art project? That…wasn’t so bad. He’d certainly been through much worse. In fact, this was actually kind of preferable.

The whole time, the kindergarten teacher comforted him as his sobs grew quieter, and his face turned from a bright red to a softened pink. Keith wiped his nose on the sleeve of his T-shirt, wiping away some of the tear-tracks on his cheeks. He was exhausted, but now that he’d calmed down a little, he realized that the teacher didn’t seem to be mad at him. She just looked concerned.

“Are you alright, honey?” She asked him.

Keith shrugged. He felt kind of funny—bleary and tired—and he was still sad.

“Can you tell me what happened? What made you upset?”

Keith swung his feet from the benches, fiddling with his fingers. The teacher wasn’t mad at him, it seemed, so maybe it was okay to tell her? Keith reluctantly opened his mouth to confess what he always tried to keep secret.

“I don’t have a mommy o-or a daddy.” Keith nearly wailed, hiccupping as his tears threatened to spill over once more.

The teacher’s face grew heartbroken as she suddenly understood all of Keith’s distress.

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m so sorry…” even her own eyes were getting a little hot, “Can I give you a hug? Do you want a hug?” She asked.

A hug? The only person who’d ever hugged Keith besides his daddy was Shiro. The offer was strangely foreign to him, but he wondered…Shiro’s hugs always felt really nice. They always made him feel all fuzzy and giggly inside—made him happy. Keith loved his big brother’s hugs. Thinking about it, he wished Shiro was here right now to give him one, but he wasn’t. But maybe the teacher’s hugs would feel nice too. Keith thought it couldn’t hurt to try, so he nodded.

The teacher carefully wrapped her arms around his back and to Keith’s surprise, it was nice. Cozy and warm. Maybe not as safe and comforting as being in his big brother’s arms, but he felt himself sinking into it anyway, sighing a little in relief and hiding his face against her neck. Why did hugs feel so good? Did they always feel like this?

Keith was inordinately disappointed when she finally let go. He wasn’t ready yet.

“Do you want to go back to your table now?” She asked him.

Keith looked nervously at it—he saw Tavri looking back at him, checking to make sure he was okay. That was nice. However, he hesitated.

“But I can’t do the card…” he said dejectedly.

“Sure, you can!” she said. She sounded so confident. “I know somebody loves you. Who takes care of you at home, buddy?”

Keith didn’t even have to think about it.

“My big brother, Shiro.” He sniffled in answer.

“Well, how about making a card for him? Do you want to do that?”

Oh. Yeah—Keith could do that. Shiro did love him, and Keith loved him, too. He could make a card for Shiro and show him that he loved him. He was the best big brother ever, after all. He deserved a card. Yeah. Yeah! Shiro would be so happy. At least, Keith hoped so.

“Yeah! I wanna make Shiro a card!” his attitude did a complete one-eighty at the idea.

“Okay, then. Let’s go!” The teacher replied, smiling and taking Keith by the hand again to take him back to his seat.

“Are you all better now?” Tavri asked him with concern as he sat down.

“Uh-huh.” Keith said, sniffling and wiping his nose with his sleeve one last time to clear away all the tears for good.

“Okay, good! I’m glad.” Then she leaned over and wrapped her arms around Keith’s neck, hanging off of him in her own version of a hug.

Keith was surprised for a moment, his eyes going wide. Eventually he leaned into it, tentatively wrapping his own arms around her, too, like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed. Like he might accidentally hurt her if he did more than just lay his arms around her. Tavri just hummed happily. Hugs really did feel good.

Luckily, Tavri didn’t pry any further into what had upset him—she seemed content just to know her friend wasn’t sad anymore. Keith was glad for it. He didn’t really want to talk about it, not that he ever did.

After the hug, Keith got to work on his card. He noticed most of the kids at his table were already almost done with the writing part of the card and all the kindergarteners were already decorating them. Fortunately, Keith was able to catch up to them quickly enough. He had no shortage of nice things to say about his older brother, and Galran spelling was a lot more phonetically straight-forward than English, so there wasn’t too much room for error.

The only thing he wasn’t really sure of was which kind of ‘i’ belonged in Shiro’s name.

Even though the Galran alphabet had less letters than English, sometimes the vowels wore funky hats on top to change how they were pronounced. For example, Keith’s name transliterated into Galran was only 3 letters long. The first letter made the ‘k’ sound. The second letter was an ‘i’ with a long hat to indicate that it was pronounced like the ‘i’ in Tavri’s name and not like the ‘i’ in Kolivan’s name. The last letter made the English ‘th’ sound.

However, Keith couldn’t figure out if the ‘i’ in Shiro’s name needed a hat or not. He kept saying his name over and over again testing out each, but somehow it all kind of sounded the same. And it wasn’t like there was any kind of common reference for how to spell a person’s name either, so he couldn’t ask a kindergartener or a teacher. In the end, Keith just ended up making an ambiguous mark instead. Let it be interpreted however it may.

Finally, when Keith was done writing out all the nice things he could think to say about his big brother, he got to decorating. On the front side of the card Keith wrote a big ‘Thank you, Shiro’ with a thoughtfully rendered crayon drawing of the two of them holding hands and smiling. Then, Keith picked out and hoarded most of the little star-shaped paper decorations from the plate and grabbed a handful of the shiniest sequins, which he glued all around them to simulate the night sky they now inhabited.

On the inside of the card, he drew the red and black lions sitting next to each other like they always did in the hangar, and a little Earth in the corner, because it was their home, and also a couple of cactuses with flowers too, because Keith just liked them. They reminded him of better times from when he was actually little.

“That’s very beautiful, Keith. Your big brother’s going to love this.” Miss Ira suddenly interjected from behind him as he was coloring in one of his aforementioned cactuses.

“Really? You think so?” Keith spun around in his chair and tilted his head up to look at her, feeling light from the praise.

“Oh, I know so. He loves you very much.” She could tell from just how much Shiro had been worried for him earlier this morning. Miss Ira was no stranger to affectionate, doting caregivers, and Keith’s older brother was no exception.

The smaller boy beamed at her and went happily back to coloring in his desert plants. He was determined to make it the best card Shiro ever got.

Eventually, when it seemed like most of the children were finished filling in and decorating their cards, Miss Ira said they could take them to their teacher’s desk for safe-keeping and then continue having free play time. At that announcement, most of the kindergarteners returned back to their side of the classroom to drop off their cards and a few of the preschoolers got up, too, including Tavri.

“I’m gonna go to the sand table and guard our pyramid so nobody knocks it down and lets the king out.” Tavri said to Keith as she got up.

“Okay!” Keith chirped in reply, hearing the hidden invitation to play implied in that statement. “I’m almost done.”

He heard Tavri head in the direction of their pyramid as Keith stuck his tongue out a little, trying to quickly but carefully color in a little scorpion he drew in the corner of the card that reminded him of one he once saw in his old shack. He drew it with a smiley face to indicate that it was a friendly scorpion that Keith liked and not a bad one.

He really wanted to keep drawing, but he was running out of room on the card, so he decided to finish it there. Maybe Tavri would color with him more later once they finished the pyramid.

Keith casually strolled up to Miss Ira’s desk to drop off his card. She complimented it and told him how good of a job he’d done writing his letters—especially since he had to cross out a lot of the mommy and daddy words and replace them—and Keith’s face almost hurt from smiling so wide. Even though he’d encountered a hiccup or two, he was doing good at preschool!

It felt good, for once, to have his teachers and his classmates like him. For them to not automatically assume he was bad. It felt like the start-over he’d always wanted all his life. The start-over he’d been subconsciously searching for every time he dropped into headspace. Keith was warm with contentment and satisfaction—more than words could really explain.

And then he saw something that made all his newfound happiness drain right out of him.

Chapter Text

The sight stunned him. For a moment he was frozen, unable to look away from the sight of a little girl Keith didn’t know the name of sitting not too far from the sand table. She was playing with two stuffed animals; one that looked like a monkey with too-long limbs and, to his deep despair, Mr. Po.

In that split-second, Keith felt absolutely wretched. And not simply because another child was playing with his best friend—no—Keith was perhaps more upset with himself than he’d ever been in his whole life. He was acutely aware of how much it hurt to be left behind, and not only had Keith completely forgotten—completely abandoned—Mr. Po by the sand table, he realized he hadn’t even noticed until it was far too late.

Keith was so ashamed of himself. He felt no better than all of the foster parents that had always done their best to ignore Keith’s existence. He’d never, ever wanted to be like them. The fact that he’d somehow become just like them hurt more than he’d ever thought.

But, at the same time as all of Keith’s painful childhood memories of neglect tried to overwhelm him, another more powerful emotion began to swell as well. One that Keith held onto with all his might, because he knew from experience that anything was better than the heavy sadness he’d always tried so hard to ignore all his life.

Anger coursed through his tiny body, almost too big for him to contain. Mr. Po was his best friend! He was Keith’s favorite and only toy, and if he didn’t have Mr. Po, then Keith had no one. He would be all alone, just like he always had been. It wasn’t fair! Keith’s toys had been stolen and taken away from him all his life, and no one had ever cared! All of the comfort objects he’d tried to hold onto in the system had, somehow or another, been forced from his grasp.

Keith recalled it vividly. The day he’d lost his last toy had been a turning point for him. It had been another stuffed animal—the one he treasured most. It was a soft plush kitty that had been given to his father by another little boy in thanks for saving their family’s cat from a tree. His daddy had given it to Keith, wanting to see such a nice toy be loved rightfully by a child, rather than let it collect dust at the fire station, and Keith had been enamored with it. For months, he brought it with him everywhere. To the park, to the grocery store, to sit and watch cartoons with. Just getting Keith to let the stuffed animal go long enough for his daddy to wash it had been a challenge.

When Keith entered the system, he’d had no idea what to expect. All he’d really been told was that his daddy was gone suddenly, and so Keith needed new grown-ups to take care of him. He’d cried a lot. Nearly every day for a while, especially as he tried to fall asleep at night. But that plush had always been right next to him. Yet even at his first home, he’d caught his younger foster brother at the time playing with it, and Keith had panicked. He’d thrown a fit. But neither of his foster parents would listen to him, and Keith, so frightened that one day it would be taken, began to hide it.

He hid it well for a few years at least. He only took it out at night, or the rare times he had a moment of privacy. Even through all the tears Keith had cried onto it as he endured his first foster home, it was still as soft as could be. He swore it still smelled like the warm, dry desert air that had surrounded his real home.

And then, one day, as Keith was warily carted off to a group home, he realized his precious stuffed cat, along with a few other personal belongings, were missing from his bag.

His pathetically empty duffel had been raided. He didn’t know when. He didn’t know which foster sibling had done it, though he had a good guess, the way his last family’s only biological daughter had been a spoiled brat. Keith didn’t know how she’d even found it, the way he’d tried so hard to keep it from any prying eyes. But there was nothing he could do about it now. It was lost, forever. His last toy, stolen right from under his nose. It still incensed him, even to this day.

After that, Keith seemed to have sworn off toys—especially stuffed animals, even though they were the closest things to true friends Keith had ever had. It wasn’t a conscious choice. But on the very rare occasion Keith was gifted a hand-me-down, already worn down and patched back up again from the result of another child’s affection, he couldn’t bear to look at it. He couldn’t bear to lose another one. He couldn’t bear to hold it, or play with it, or get attached to something he would inevitably lose like everything else in his life.

Then, he outgrew toys—or so everyone seemed to think. A preteen, and especially a teenager, didn’t need the comfort of some soft, inanimate ‘friend’—especially not one like Keith, who was anything but gentle or innocent by then. Soft, huggable toys didn’t mesh with his anger issues. By that point, Keith was only seen by his caretakers and other authority figures as violent—as aggressive. He was a troublemaker. He got into too many fights and was brought back to his foster homes by the police far too often. Surely, he’d spit in the face of anyone who would even think to give him such a childish thing. In all honesty, Keith thought, back then he probably would have.

But it was different once Shiro came around. Keith couldn’t really pinpoint why. Maybe it was because Shiro was the first grown-up who really saw through the rough-and-tumble façade Keith had put up to hide the softer parts of him. Who wasn’t surprised to find out that Keith even had softer parts of him. Vulnerable parts. Parts Shiro would never have even thought to prod at or make fun of. He was the first person to understand things about Keith that he thought no one ever would. It was like he knew all along that all Keith really wanted—all he really needed—was someone he could trust.

The first time Shiro gave him a stuffed animal, Keith was almost too afraid to believe it. Afraid Shiro would take it back, or that it wasn’t for him to keep. He almost didn’t want to play with it, the way getting attached to toys still brought back memories of hurt.

But then Shiro seemed to bring the little stuffed seal to life—he told Keith its name, gave it a cute voice, gave it a funny personality that loved Keith to bits, just like he did. Keith couldn’t resist. He spent the rest of their play session trying not to cry. He liked to think he’d hidden it well, but he can still remember how Shiro had given him so many more hugs than usual that day, so maybe he hadn’t done as good of a job as he’d thought.  

Still, though, it pained him to think about what the Garrison must have done to all the friends Keith hadn’t taken with him when he ran away to his desert shack and left them all behind. The guilt, when he remembers, still eats at him. The thought of the toys Shiro so thoughtfully gifted him, the same ones that helped Keith learn how to open up again, sitting all alone, abandoned in a dump somewhere is still too much for his delicate heart to bear. 

And now, here he stands, watching himself relive this same, painful childhood memory all over again. Watching as the kids around him take and take and take from him, and Keith is powerless to stop them. This isn’t supposed to happen anymore. He doesn’t want it to do this anymore.

He’s so lonely. He’s so angry. He feels just like he used to, all those years ago, but it’s not supposed to be like that anymore. So, instead, he wipes the tears from his eyes and tries to make it different this time. It’s supposed to be different this time. He’s supposed to be different this time. He won’t stand back and watch anymore. He won’t let this second chance at his childhood be ruined too.

He goes up to the girl, who’s sitting cross-legged on the carpet and appears to be making some sort of speech. There are small cups sitting in front of her and the two stuffed animals she’s playing with—this must be some kind of tea party. The girl looks up and makes a face as Keith approaches, but he barely notices the way he’s so focused on Mr. Po, who’s wearing a plastic tiara on his back since it’s too big for his head.

“There’s no boys allowed at the dinner party!” the girl exclaims, standing up quickly and looking as if she’s ready to fight him on this if he refuses to back down.

Keith hardly hears her. “That’s mine,” he states matter-of-factly, pointing at Mr. Po.

“Says who?” She challenges. “I don’t see your name on it.”

Keith immediately laments the fact that neither he nor Shiro thought to put his name on the tag under Mr. Po’s tail. Still, he replies, “Says my big brother! He’s the one who got him for me!”

“Well, I’m the one who found her under the sand table, so she’s mine now.” The girl says with flawless logic.

“That’s not how it works!” Keith protests. Already, he knows he’ll want nothing to do with this girl in the future.  

“Well, I didn’t see you playing with her.”

Keith, despite the way his headspace often makes his emotions harder to regulate, had tried to approach this with at least some reign on his ire. But the longer he stands talking to this girl, the higher his temper seems to flare.

“He’s mine!” Keith bursts out, irritation mounting. “He’s my best friend and you can’t have him!”

The girl seems neither impressed nor intimidated by this. Instead, she leans down to pick Mr. Po up and gives him an imploring look. “What do you think, Princess Ozara?” She asks the toy.

Keith sees red. In the brief pause the girl gives for the toy to answer her, Keith shouts, “He’s not a girl! He’s a boy and his name is Mr. Po!” Now he can feel what little self-control he had slipping quickly through his fingers.

“She,” the girl emphasizes, “said you must not care about her very much if you forgot all about her. She doesn’t like you anymore. She wants to play with me now.”

The words hit Keith like a punch to the gut. He doesn’t know exactly how she did it, but Keith feels almost as if his privacy’s been violated, like his mind’s been read, the way she’s unknowingly gone straight for Keith’s jugular. As if she knew exactly what to say to wound the deepest, most vulnerable part of him. Keith knows, rationally, that she has no idea what impact her words would have on him, but even that knowledge does nothing to lessen the blow.

It hurts. It hurts in a way Keith isn’t used to—his very worst fears come to life. He knows it’s not true. He knows Mr. Po loves him just as much as Keith loves him, that Keith would never ever abandon him on purpose. But hearing those words out loud sends a spike of fear through Keith that he’s never been very good at processing, so instead, he rages.

There’s nothing he can say to that, so without a single word, Keith attempts to rip Mr. Po right out of the girl’s hands. She seems to anticipate this, however, and reacts quickly, tightening her grip and refusing to let go. If it were simply a game of tug-of-war, Keith’s fairly certain he would win eventually. But he doesn’t have the time to wait around, and he would never forgive himself if Mr. Po were hurt in the struggle. He needs to end this quickly.

So, naturally, he does what every toddler on the planet does when things aren’t going their way.

He pushes her. Hard.

At that, she finally lets go and Mr. Po is safe and secure back in Keith’s arms. Keith hugs him tightly and breathes the deepest sigh of relief he can ever remember feeling. For a moment, he’s almost proud of himself. He’s not going to have a repeat of the same childhood he’s been trying so hard to heal from.

The feeling, unfortunately, doesn’t last long.

The moment the other girl lets go, she falls hard onto the floor. She’s not exactly hurt, but the force of Keith’s shove startles her and immediately, she starts to wail.

It’s loud. It’s unignorable. He’s sure everyone in the room can hear it, and Keith is standing frozen in front of her, looking guiltier than if he’d had his hand in the cookie jar.

Quickly, Keith whips back around to face her, looking at her already blotchy-red cheeks, tears streaming down her face and begs her, “Don’t tell on me!” As if he didn’t just rip away the toy she was playing with and push her to the ground.

In a heartbeat, the nearest grown-up—Mr. Klaxil—is wasting no time striding over to the scene of the crime. At first, he doesn’t even look at Keith, just kneels down to be closer to the girl and asks, “Hey, what happened? What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

Without hesitation, but unable to get a word out through her sobs, she points an accusing finger at Keith. All the blood drains from Keith’s face. A voice in his head is screaming at him to run, but he’s frozen in place, feeling guilty and small and bad.

He’s in trouble.

“He-he pushed me!” The girl hiccups, hardly able to string a few words together without stuttering. “And-and-and he took my zaffir!” She wails again.

Mr. Klaxil turns to him, looking disappointed. Keith immediately goes on the defensive.

“He was mine first! My brother gave him to me!” His voice shakes and wavers.

“Nuh-uh! She’s mine! H-he’s lying! He’s a liar!” The girl retorts baselessly.

Now Keith really is afraid. Grown-ups never believe him. He’s the bad kid. The aggressor. He’s never the one who starts it, but he’s always the one who finishes it, and that’s all grown-ups ever seem to care about. Tears spring unbidden to Keith’s own eyes, scared of what’s to come.

“I’m not!” Keith cries, desperate to be believed. “I’m not lying!”

“Is that true, Keith?” Mr. Klaxil inquires, “Did your brother really give you that zaffir?”

Mr. Klaxil means it as a genuine question, but all Keith hears is skepticism.

The tears start to spill over, but still he insists, “Yes!”

“Nuh-uh!” The girl shouts back, still sitting on the ground. “My daddy got her for me for my birthday!” She lies straight through her teeth.

Keith wants to scream. They both know she’s lying, but Mr. Klaxil doesn’t, so now it’s her word versus his. Keith never wins these things. It’s like she knows that, too. Keith still doesn’t even know her name, but he hates her. She’s his childhood nightmare come back to haunt him.

Mr. Klaxil just looks between the two of them, assessing.

“Well, I think somebody’s not telling the truth.” He looks between them again, “So until someone can tell me who this zaffir really belongs to, I think we need to spend some time in the thinking chair. And I’ll keep them safe until then.” Mr. Klaxil turns towards Keith, gesturing for the stuffed toy.

“No!” Keith whines, high-pitched and drawn out. It isn’t fair! It’s his toy! He isn’t lying!

“Keith.” Mr. Klaxil gives him a look, putting his hand on the toy. Keith, with great struggle and a renewed supply of tears, gives Mr. Po up. He sobs.

“It’s okay, buddy, it’s not going anywhere.” The teacher tries to placate. He puts a hand on Keith’s shoulder to guide him to a chair facing the back corner of the room. “Now, let’s sit here for a little while and calm down, and when you’re ready you can tell me what you did wrong, and who really owns this zaffir.”

“I do! He’s mine!” Keith pleads, voice watery and broken. Mr. Klaxil has to believe him. There isn’t anything else Keith can do! He can’t lose Mr. Po! Keith doesn’t want to be alone again! His sobbing ramps up in intensity.

“Hey, honey, it’s okay. We’ll figure this out.” Mr. Klaxil attempts to calm him. “Now, I need you to sit down and face the wall and think about what you did wrong. No turning around, and no talking. If you do, you’ll have to sit here longer. Then, when you’re ready to tell the truth and apologize to Yoru, you can raise your hand and I’ll come get you.”

“I am telling the truth!” Keith doesn’t know what to do! Why is he in trouble? It’s his toy! Why does no one ever believe him? How is he ever supposed to get out of time-out if Mr. Klaxil thinks he’s lying? He can’t give up Mr. Po! He can’t, he can’t, he can’t!

Keith keeps sobbing as the taller man guides him to sit in the cold, hard chair, and Keith feels ashamed and humiliated. There had been a chair like this in his elementary school, and Keith had had to sit in it a lot. That was how everyone had found out how bad he was—only the bad kids got put in time-out, after all. And Keith was bad a lot.

As Mr. Klaxil leaves and Keith isn’t allowed to turn around to see where he’s going or what he’s doing or if Yoru’s getting put in time-out too, he starts to spiral.

He’d tried so hard to be good! He didn’t want to be the sad, angry, lonely child he always had been. That he felt like he never grew out of. His whole childhood, it felt like all anybody ever saw of Keith were all the parts he hated about himself. He’d barely gotten started in life before the other kids at his school decided he wasn’t worth their time, or that he was an easy target. He had fake parents who didn’t bother with him, and clothes that didn’t fit him right, and a lunchbox that was always half empty. Nobody cared about him, so it didn’t matter if they took his things, or made fun of him, or started fights with him just to get a reaction out of the kid nobody understood.

The real problem was that Keith couldn’t ever just sit back and take it. Maybe if he had, he’d have been good enough. But his life had changed too drastically, too quickly, and Keith didn’t know how to navigate it. He’d never been treated so badly in all his life—not at home, not at school, not anywhere else. It angered him. It frightened him. He couldn’t escape it, so his only option was to fight back. He hadn’t had a choice.

And then he’d gotten a reputation. For fighting. For acting out. For being too easy to pick on. And Keith got angrier, and lonelier, and more hopeless. Every time he changed families, changed schools, he thought things might be different, might get better, but they never did. Keith didn’t know why. He didn’t know what to do, or how to fix it. It was a problem with seemingly no solution.

After a long enough time, however, Keith started to figure it out; he began to realize that the only common denominator in every situation was him. It had to be his fault that all these terrible things kept happening to him. It didn’t make sense otherwise. There had to be something wrong with him.

So maybe that meant what everyone always said about him was right. Maybe he was just bad. That something about him was fundamentally wrong. Broken. Keith was incapable of being good. It was his fault nobody liked him, and there was nothing he could do to change. For a long time, that’s what Keith truly believed.

It didn’t help. It didn’t give him any closure, or make him any less angry or sad or lonely. In fact, it only made Keith even worse.

But then Shiro had come along, and for what felt like the first time in Keith’s life, he’d found someone who saw the good in him. Shiro saw something inside him that Keith and everyone else had lost sight of a long, long time ago. At first, he almost didn’t believe it. Was wary of it. Wondered what Shiro wanted from him, because good things never just happened to Keith.

But slowly, ever so slowly, Shiro began to show him that there was good inside him. That he had the potential to do so much more than he ever thought. And Keith clung onto that hope desperately.

It was the whole reason why he thought maybe he could make things different this time. Be a good boy like Shiro always thought he was. Have a childhood like he always should’ve had—one where he had friends, and people were nice to him, and gave him hugs, and loved him and cared about him and wanted him to be happy.

But now it was all ruined. Because Keith really was bad, and now everybody else knew, too. All his new friends. All his new teachers. Everyone could see him sitting in the corner where only bad boys ever sat, and now his second chance at a happy childhood was ruined. Keith knew the same thing would happen all over again. Tavri wouldn’t want to be his friend anymore. His teachers would never give him the benefit of the doubt. He was going to lose Mr. Po, the toy Shiro had so lovingly entrusted him with.

Keith’s cries echoed louder against the walls in front of him. His chest hurt with the force of it. Tears dripped down his cheeks and off his chin. He felt like he could hardly breathe.

Why was he like this? Why couldn’t he be good? What was wrong with him?

Keith didn’t want to be here anymore. He wasn’t good enough to go to preschool. He didn’t want to be around other kids anymore and he didn’t deserve to be here anyway. He wanted to go home. He wanted Shiro to come swoop in and take him away from here, like the superhero Keith always imagined him as.

But at the thought of his big brother, Keith only choked harder on his sobs. He thought about the comm in his bag, in his cubby, and how he felt so hopeless. Keith couldn’t call Shiro—he couldn’t let his big brother know how bad he was.

Shiro would be so mad at him. Keith told him he would be a good boy and he wasn’t at all! He was all wrong! Shiro would be so angry at him, because Keith had wasted all his time and energy and he still couldn’t do anything right! He wasn’t good at all! There was nothing good about him! Shiro had been wrong all along, and when he finally found out, he would decide he didn’t love Keith anymore, and then Keith would be really, really all alone. Just the thought of being abandoned by his big brother of all people drove terror into Keith’s fragile, vulnerable heart.

He couldn’t lose Shiro, too. If the thought of losing Mr. Po sent Keith into a panic, then the thought of losing his big brother would kill him. All the years they’d spent together…All the things Shiro had taught him…All of it, wasted, because Keith wasn’t ever good enough.

Once he found out, Shiro was going to leave him, just like everyone else. It was only a matter of time, now.

By now, Keith was wailing harder than Yoru ever had in her life. He was so distraught at the thought of Shiro leaving him that Keith felt like he was going to throw up from the force of his crying. Snot ran freely down his face, but Keith didn’t even notice. He couldn’t see at all through the blur in his vision, and the fact that no one was coming to comfort him only made him feel that much more alienated. That much more like he didn’t belong.

Nobody loved Keith anymore. Nobody cared about him. They just let him suffer in silence, in isolation, because that was what he deserved. He was too rotten inside for anything else. Too broken.

It made sense, though, didn’t it? Why would anybody ever care about Keith if Keith didn’t even know how to love right? He thought he’d loved Mr. Po, but clearly he was mistaken if he didn’t even care about him enough not to completely forget him. Maybe Yoru was right. Maybe he didn’t deserve to have Mr. Po after all.

Keith was going to lose him, too. Mr. Klaxil thought he was a liar, for sure. All his teachers did. Nothing had changed. Everything was just as miserable as it had always been, but for some reason Keith felt even less prepared to cope with it. He had nothing. He had no one. Even after all his hard work, he was right back at square one, heartbroken and aching for any semblance of affection.

He wasn’t going to get any. Those days were over. Keith was bad, bad, bad, and just like he’d known all his life, nobody wanted a troubled kid like him. Why had Shiro ever put up with it?

Keith, with all the broken cracks in his tiny little heart, was wracked with self-loathing. Why was he like this? Why couldn’t he ever learn? Why had his big brother ever bothered with him when he was such a waste? He hated how useless he was. How pathetic. He hated that he was himself—an unlovable little boy that couldn’t even care about his toys right.

Keith didn’t think it was possible for him to cry any harder or louder than he already was, but the pain inside his heart was still too big for him. He couldn’t contain it. It was too overwhelming. Like trying to force the flow of a river through a garden hose, his misery burst out of him, hard and fast and completely out of his control.

Keith’s hands fisted in his hair, and he pulled on the strands as hard as he could. It burned. It stung. It hurt, but it made the all the horrible feelings inside of him feel a little more manageable. Feel a little quieter. The ache in his scalp was soothing, like all the too-big emotions inside him could escape through his hurts. It felt like an answer, so he pulled and tugged and yanked for every little voice in his head that whispered how terrible he was. How bad. He knew, he knew, he knew already!

It wasn’t enough.  

Keith ripped his hands from his hair, hardly caring if he tore harshly through the knots he’d made. He curled his fingers in, but rather than making a fist, he left his palms wide open. He let a few more tears fall as his body seemed to jerk almost beyond his control, and then he let the heels of his hands hit his head wherever he saw fit.

It felt good, like the blunt force trauma of it could knock all the thoughts out of his skull. Maybe that’s what he was really trying to do.  At the very least, the jarring nature of every bash to the head was a good distraction from the unbearable ache in his chest.

And, well, maybe he deserved this, too. The physical pain. It certainly wasn’t the first time he was hurt for being bad, even if it was the first time he’d inflicted it on himself. Apparently, no one even cared enough about Keith to correct him—that’s how bad he was.

But he’d do it himself! He’d make himself good! He could teach himself a lesson, and then everyone would see how good he could be!

It happened a lot in his foster homes. He’d be bad. He’d be punished. He’d learn his lesson, and then he’d be allowed to eat again, or leave the closet, or bandage up the burns from his foster dad’s cigarettes. They’d treat him like he was good again, at least until he inevitably messed up for the umpteenth time, and the cycle would start all over again.

Maybe that was the answer. Maybe if he was punished enough, Shiro would still love him. He’d still think Keith was good, because he’d taken his punishment so well. But what would be enough to make everyone forgive him?

It hadn’t been long, but Keith, now, was grunting quietly with the force of every hit. His crying had certainly calmed down some in the midst of his self-flagellation, but he still wasn’t satisfied with it when his wrists were abruptly captured, halting any further attempts to hurt himself.

“Woah, woah, woah, sweetheart—what are you doing? There’s no need for that.” Miss Ira’s voice echoed in his ears.

Keith grizzled in discontent. Yes, there was! How else could he be good again? He whined softly as he half-heartedly attempted to jerk his hands out of her hold.

“You can have your hands back when I’m sure you can use them gently. Can you do that for me, Keith? Can you show me how to use your hands nicely?” She bargained with him.

Could he? Why did she care? Keith didn’t deserve gentle or nice—he was bad. Couldn’t she see that, kneeling down next to him while he sat in time-out?

By now, Keith had grown mostly quiet except for the few near-hyperventilated wheezing he couldn’t seem to control. His face was tacky with entirely too many tears, a lot of snot, and even a fair bit of spit on his chin and the sides of his mouth. He gave a few weak, wet coughs as Miss Ira gentled her hold on his hands. He slumped in his seat. Keith was exhausted.

All the energy seemed to have drained out of him, and even if he’d still wanted to, he couldn’t seem to raise his hands back out of his lap as Miss Ira released his wrists. Keith arms went slack.

“See? There we go…that’s nice. Very good, Keith.” Miss Ira praised, rubbing his back in soothing circles. He had to admit it felt nice.

Keith perked up just the faintest bit, also. Good? He did something good? Surely that wasn’t enough to overwrite all the bad inside him, though. He was still thinking of ways he might be forgiven.

And then, he noticed what Miss Ira was holding in her hands.

“Mr. Klaxil told me you and Yoru were having trouble taking turns a little bit ago. Care to tell me what happened?” She asked.

“Mr. Po’s mine!” Keith sniveled, looking at his round body in the teacher’s large hands. “She—she tried to take him from me!”

“Are other children not allowed to play with your toys, too?”

“No!” Keith yelled. That was the whole problem.

Miss Ira gave him a stern look. “Keith—that’s not very nice.”

At her scolding, Keith gave another high, keening whine in the back of his throat as tears began to well up again. Keith wasn’t nice. He wasn’t good. He was mean and bad and selfish just like everyone always said. His hands balled up into tiny fists, frustrated that no one understood why he had to be this way.

“She tried to take him from me!” Keith exploded, tears falling faster now, “She wouldn’t give him back! She said Mr. Po was hers! She said I was lying but I’m not! She is! Mr. Po’s my only toy and I can’t lose him too!” Keith was sobbing openly again, his face crumpling more and more the longer he spoke. He finished his statement with a tiny hiccup.

Miss Ira listened sympathetically, nodding in understanding as Keith relayed all the injustice he’d been faced with.

“You’re right that Yoru shouldn’t have taken him without asking, and it wasn’t nice of her to lie about who he belonged to, but Mr. Klaxil said you pushed her. Is that true?”

Keith couldn’t look her in the eye, so instead he stared at his shoes, nodding ever so slightly. She didn’t need to say it. He already knew he was bad.

“Well, that’s not very nice, either.” She confirmed what Keith was already aware of. He shrunk in on himself.

“I’m sorry,” Keith whined, desperate to be forgiven, even though he didn’t really expect it.

“I don’t think I’m the one you need to apologize to, am I?” She asked.

Keith shook his head.

Miss Ira continued, “And if someone takes one of our toys again, what do you think we should do instead of pushing?”

Keith knew the answer she wanted to hear, despite the way his heart only felt twisted by betrayal every time he’d tried to do the so-called ‘right thing’.

“I’m supposed to tell a grown-up.” He replied, discontent obvious in his expression.

“That’s right.”

“But Mr. Klaxil didn’t believe me!” He shouted, angry that all the grown-ups he knew had never listened to him before.

Miss Ira’s expression softened as she tried to explain to him, “Mr. Klaxil didn’t know who Mr. Po really belonged to. But what if you’d told me, instead? Or Miss Ezrin? We both know Mr. Po is yours.” She reminded him.

Keith realized that was true. But rather than feel some kind of relief, he just felt as if he was being scolded for making another mistake. He still couldn’t do anything right.

“Now, why don’t we go apologize to Yoru, and then we can play again?”

But Keith didn’t want to do either of those things. He would’ve been perfectly happy never to see Yoru ever again, and he didn’t feel like he deserved to play anymore. Still, when Miss Ira offered him Mr. Po, Keith held onto him tightly and let Miss Ira lead him by the hand to where he could see Yoru sitting in time-out, talking to Mr. Klaxil.

However, as Keith stood up, he noticed something he was quite embarrassed by.

His pullup, which he’d completely forgotten he was even wearing, was wet.

Luckily, it wasn’t a lot. In fact, it was barely wet at all. If someone had thought to check him, they probably wouldn’t have even realized, but Keith could feel the minor dampness pressed against him with every step he took.

His face flamed. He’d never had an accident before—especially one he hadn’t even noticed. It must’ve happened while he was distracted by all his upset. Caused by all his upset.

Keith decided then, however, that it didn’t count as a ‘real’ accident. He was still a big boy. He didn’t want to ruin his chances of getting to wear his new undies tomorrow too just because he got put in time-out. It was such a small thing, too; Keith didn’t even need to be changed. So it didn’t count.

As they approached Yoru and Mr. Klaxil, Keith noticed something that really only solidified to himself how mean he actually was. He saw Yoru still crying as hard as she had been back when Keith had pushed her, and felt vindicated. Or, at least, he was happy he wasn’t the only one suffering.

When Yoru looked up and noticed Keith holding Mr. Po, she immediately gasped out, “I’m sorry I lied!” as she continued to bawl.

Keith hugged Mr. Po closer to his chest and murmured, “I’m sorry for pushing you.” Even though he really wasn’t all that sorry. “I won’t do it again.” That, though, was the truth.

He couldn’t afford to do something bad again. He was still having a hard enough time trying to claw his way back into everyone’s good graces from the first time. He didn’t even know if he could, but he was willing to try anything. Anything to get Shiro to love him again.

Even if Keith was inherently bad, he could at least try to make up for it. How else could anyone forgive him?

After a few more short, forced exchanges between the two preschoolers, they were both released from time-out and sent back out to play.

But Keith still didn’t think he was worthy of it. Something was wrong with him. Miss Ira and Mr. Klaxil might have said that they’d forgiven Keith too, but he knew they wouldn’t forget. Neither would all the other kids. And once Shiro found out, he’d certainly always remember the way Keith had so gravely misbehaved on his very first day. Especially after he promised to be good. Shiro would never trust him again.

Keith had made such a big mistake, and now everyone knew how bad he was. All he could do now was try to change their minds. Show them that he was trying hard to be good.

And he couldn’t get in trouble if he didn’t try to play.

So, instead, Keith trudged back over to the thinking chair, and sat down again facing the corner. He clutched Mr. Po tightly in his hands. He thought that he didn’t deserve Mr. Po either, but the thought of leaving him and having the exact same thing happen all over again sent shivers down his spine, and honestly, Keith thought he would probably break down again if he didn’t have someone soft to hug.

He did, at least, refrain from grabbing his pacifier out of his pocket. This was still his punishment, and he didn’t deserve any more comfort than strictly necessary.

Keith wasn’t sure how long he sat there for. Honestly, he the more he thought about it, the more he got it into his head that he should stay in time-out until Shiro came to get him the next morning. He’d sit there through lunch, through dinner, through bedtime, and through breakfast. Keith was clearly bad at playing, and he didn’t deserve to keep Mr. Po. Still, through some flaw of fate, he’d managed to hold onto him. But Keith didn’t trust he wouldn’t be taken away again if he didn’t prove to everyone that he was good.

This was how he could be good again. If he stayed in time-out longer than the grown-ups said he needed to be, they’d be impressed. They’d be proud of him. Adults in the past always said he’d had ‘discipline’ issues. Even Shiro had said so. But if Keith did ‘self-discipline’ like Shiro wanted him to, then maybe he would still want to be Keith’s big brother.

Eventually, though, Miss Ira returned.

“Sweetheart, what are you still doing in the thinking chair? I told you you could go play now.”

Keith tried to cover his ears with his hands and ignore her. He shook his head.

Miss Ira laid a gentle hand on his knee instead. “What’s wrong, dear?”

He gave up on ignoring her all too quickly. “I’m no good at playing. And nobody wants to play with me anyway. Everybody knows I’m bad now. I tried to be good, but I’m just not. You didn’t put me in time-out long enough.” Keith explained, though he didn’t really think any amount of time would be enough.

Miss Ira’s eyes went wide at that, slightly taken aback. It was the first time she’d ever heard a child say such a thing. She had no prior knowledge of what Keith’s life had been like in the past, but immediately she knew he’d been taught some unhealthy ways of thinking, especially about himself.

“Oh, honey—you’re not bad. Why do you think you’re bad?”

Keith felt so small under her gaze. The question made him overly self-conscious. He’d never really talked about this stuff before, except sometimes with Shiro. It was uncomfortable.

He gave a tiny shrug. “I dunno. I just am. That’s what everybody says.”

“That’s not what I say.” Miss Ira challenged.

Keith just looked away, shrugging again. He didn’t know if he really believed her.  

Miss Ira tried again. “Do you think you’re bad because you pushed Yoru?”

Keith supposed there were a lot of reasons why he thought he was bad but, at the end of the day, that really was the heart of the issue. Usually, he was pretty well-behaved ever since he’d started regressing. He always tried to be, at least. That was half the point of it. It wasn’t as if Shiro had never had to put him in time-out before, of course, but this time it was different. This was the first time he’d ever interacted with other children his age, and once he’d pushed Yoru, it was like reliving all the worst parts of his childhood all over again. He felt like he hadn’t really changed. Everything was going just as terribly as he remembered.

Keith nodded, thinking that if he’d never done that, everyone would still think he was a good boy.

“Keith, will you listen to me?” Miss Ira asked him seriously. The boy in question looked over to her shyly. “Doing something bad doesn’t make you a bad person. It’s called making a mistake. You know what a mistake is, right?”

Keith nodded. He’d made lots of those before.

“And you know who makes mistakes?” Miss Ira asked. Keith just kept watching her, waiting for her answer. “Everybody.” She stated. “Everybody makes mistakes. Even me.”

“Even good boys?” Keith asked skeptically.

“Especially good boys.” She confirmed. “You can’t be a good boy without making a few mistakes along the way. But you know what the real difference between a good boy and a bad boy is?”

Keith was all ears, now, desperate to figure out how he could be good. “What?” he asked, almost sounding like he was pleading.

“The difference is that good boys try to learn from their mistakes. And you did that, Keith! Remember what we’re going to do next time instead of push?”

“I'm s'posed to tell a grown-up…” Keith said, almost like he couldn’t believe the answer was that straight-forward.

“That’s right! See? You’re so smart! There’s not a bad bone in your body.” She smiled at him so widely, praised him so genuinely, that Keith couldn’t not believe her.

Still, he had to be sure. “Really?” He questioned. “I’m not bad?”

“Of course not, honey. You’re just a little boy. In fact, I’d go as far to say that little boys and little girls make more mistakes than anyone, and they’re not bad at all. Making mistakes is how we get better, after all. Don’t you think?”

Keith took a few moments to mull that over. He looked around at everyone, playing and laughing. If what Miss Ira said was true, then they’d all made mistakes before, too. And they were still happy. Still loved. Keith didn’t think his classmates were bad at all (except maybe Yoru).

And if that was true, maybe it was the same for him, too…

For the first time in what felt like a long while, Keith smiled. It was small, and timid, but it was real, and it gave him hope that maybe he really was a good boy after all. Gave him hope that when Shiro came to pick him up, he would still be proud of Keith.

Maybe Keith really wasn’t as bad as he thought. Maybe he was just a good boy who still made mistakes sometimes. Still had some things he needed to learn, things he still needed to figure out on his own time. But that didn’t mean he was broken, or worthless, or that people didn’t love him. It just meant he was human. That he was just the same as everybody else.

For so long, Keith had felt like he didn’t belong anywhere. So, to finally realize that he wasn’t so different from all the other kids, all the kids who had good friends, and were liked by their teachers, and were cared about by their loved ones, and had had ultimately fulfilling childhoods, well…

That was worth everything.  

Chapter Text

After Keith’s tears all dried away and he was reassured that all the people he cared about still loved him just as much as before, Tavri came to whisk him away from Miss Ira and the terrible thinking chair. With a renewed enthusiasm for play, Keith happily followed her back over to the sand table so they could finish constructing their pyramid. First, however, he went to put Mr. Po back in his cubby where Keith could be sure he would be safe and sound, even if he regretted the fact Mr. Po wouldn’t be able to play with them for now. Keith just couldn’t risk it.

Evidently, Keith had been in time out for much longer than he’d thought, considering how much work Tavri had done on the structure since he’d last seen it.

“Woah!” Keith exclaimed, looking at the bright, pointy, multi-colored sticks that Tavri had lined up all on top of his levee-fence-blockade thingy that he’d previously built around the moat. “Where’d you get toothpicks from?” he wondered.

“From the arts ‘n crafts bin,” she explained, “Mr. Klaxil said we had to put them all back when we’re done, though.”

“Can I help?” Keith asked, unsure if Tavri wanted to build the fence herself or if Keith should work on a new part of the structure. But the small girl was more than happy to share.

“Uh-huh!” Tavri said gleefully as she handed Keith a small jar full of the same rainbow-colored toothpicks.

Keith, excited, shook the jar happily as he made his way to start on the opposite side of the pyramid. Now they could have a real fence! There was no way the vengeful old king would ever be able to get out of their pyramid now.

A good handful of minutes later, Keith and Tavri were putting the final touches on their sandcastle when Miss Ezrin walked by and gasped.

“Oh my goodness! What do we have here?” she indulged the two preschoolers.

“It’s our pyramid!” Tavri beamed at her.

“Yeah,” Keith chimed in, “Me and Tavri builded it for the king.” he said, adjusting some of the toothpicks in the fence so they stood up straighter.

“The king, you say? Well, it certainly looks fit for royalty! How beautiful.” Miss Ezrin agreed.

The two children smiled proudly at the compliment. From there, they took turns explaining the lore they’d come up with for the pyramid and what all the different parts were for, happy to have an audience to share their make-believe with.

At the end of their long-winded explanation, Miss Ezrin pulled out a camera and asked, “Can I take a picture of you two with your pyramid?” Part of her classroom duties included documenting and taking photos of the children and special daycare events to compile into a yearbook at the end of the school term. This would be a good example of showcasing what kind of activities the kids got up to during their free-play time.

“Yeah!” Keith cheered as Tavri also agreed. Keith didn’t have a lot of pictures of himself as a child. Most of his baby and early-childhood photos had been lost—and probably thrown away—during the estate sale he was sure had happened in the aftermath of his father’s death. Not to mention, most of his foster parents never bothered to take pictures of a kid they had no intention of keeping. In fact, even most of the pictures Keith had of himself over the age of twelve were composed largely of mugshots. It was very rare to find a photo of him smiling. But maybe now he could start taking some more photos. Better photos. Happier ones. He’d have to ask Shiro if they could get a camera.

Miss Ezrin positioned Keith and Tavri behind their sand pyramid, both children wrapping an arm around the other’s shoulders and grinning as big and wide as they could.

“Say cheese!” Miss Ezrin sing-songed, snapping a few pictures which printed themselves out of the bottom of the camera like an old polaroid, but with much better quality, especially in indoor lighting.

“I wanna see!” Keith exclaimed loudly, shooting around the sand table as soon as the pictures printed. Miss Ezrin handed him one of the photos. “Cool!” he said, seeming almost mesmerized by the first physical photo he had of himself—and his new friend and their creation—since he could even remember. “Can I keep it?” he asked, hoping and praying the answer would be yes. He really, really wanted to show it to Shiro.

“Of course, buddy. I printed it out just for you.” The teacher told him.

“Yay! Thank you!” Keith remembered to say as he skipped over to show Tavri the photo even though she had an identical copy of her own.

The two older toddlers chattered about the pictures and admired them and their pyramid until Mr. Klaxil and Miss Ira announced it was snack time.

The children lined up to wash their hands before either heading to their cubbies if their parents had packed them a snack, or back to their desks if they needed one of the pre-prepared snacks the daycare provided for kids whose parents were away long-term.  

Did Shiro remember to pack him a snack? Keith knew Shiro hadn’t packed him a lunch because the preschool provided that for them, but he didn’t even know there was going to be a snack time until he was told at Morning Meeting. He thought Shiro probably hadn’t, but he went back to his cubby anyway just to check. As he rifled through his new red backpack, his hand touched something crinkly and papery, and he pulled it out to find a brown bag with his name on it. He peeked inside.

Immediately, a smile grew on Keith’s face. His big brother did pack him a snack! Keith brought the bag back to his desk and carefully took out the contents. Inside was a juice box, a baggie of apple slices, a baggie of cheese puffs—which he was especially excited about—and a note that read: Have fun at school! Remember to eat all your fruit before you eat the cheese puffs. Love, Shiro

Normally, Keith would’ve complained about being told to eat the healthy things before the junk food, but he was still just as—or perhaps even more so now—determined to be a good boy as he had been before being put in time out, so he cheerfully complied. It was very honorable of him to do so, he thought.

Next to him, he saw Tavri had the same juice box as him which they believed to be a sign that their friendship was meant to be. In celebration of the occasion, they made a toast and knocked their juice boxes together like Keith had seen the grown-ups do at dinner parties when a new planet joined the Voltron Coalition.

Tavri had something that looked like pretzel sticks and a packet of fruit snacks for her snack, and even though Shiro wasn’t around to ask if it was okay, he and Tavri traded some of their snacks to try the other’s. Tavri really liked Keith’s cheese puffs, but eventually she didn’t have any more fruit snacks to trade him for. Keith gave her a couple for free anyway, because he wanted to be a good friend and he was really glad that Tavri liked playing with him. She squealed in delight and gave Keith another hug, grateful to receive the small palmful of cheese puffs.

After that, the two of them munched on the rest of their snack in companionable silence. Keith, always quick to eat the food placed in front of him, finished long before the time set aside for eating was over. However, it wasn’t too long before Miss Ira came up behind him and set a gentle hand on his shoulder, speaking softly.

“Hi, Keith,” she started, just to get his attention.

The boy turned around and looked at the teacher as she kneeled to be closer to his level. He made an inquisitive sound.

“Your brother said you might need a reminder to go potty. Do you know where the bathroom is?”

Keith nodded and pointed to a hallway situated between the preschool and kindergarten space of the room. He supposed most of the kids in the daycare didn’t really need to go in there.

“Great,” she praised, “Why don’t you try going potty since you’re finished with your snack?” she suggested, always trying her best to prevent any unnecessary accidents.

“Okay,” Keith easily complied, hopping out of his seat. He didn’t really feel the need to go potty, but he remembered the little leak he’d had during time out and decided it wouldn’t hurt to try. After all, he couldn’t afford to have an accident like that again if he wanted to wear his new underwear tomorrow.  Best to be on the safe side.

Keith made his way over to the hallway, noticing there was only one door—one bathroom—for everybody. The door was easy to push open, and the bathroom was clean and brightly lit. He saw some sinks lined against the wall, most at a comfortable height for him and one that he could barely peek his head over, which was probably for the grown-ups.

He also noticed a couple weirdly shaped, plastic…things…lined up against the wall. They looked like sculptures or something. Keith didn’t know what they were, but he quickly decided he didn’t care when he suddenly realized he did need to go, like, really bad. Like right now.

His juice box must have caught up with him. Or maybe being in the bathroom simply made him realize how desperately he needed to go potty, or maybe Shiro was right and Keith just wasn’t as good at listening to his body’s signals as he usually was when he was so absorbed in his headspace. It certainly wouldn’t have been the first time he’d had a near-miss of the potty.

But Keith was a big boy now! He was in preschool, and he knew most of the alphabet, and even though he was fidgeting in place because he really needed to pee, he wasn’t going to have an accident when he was already in the bathroom. That was something only babies did, and Keith was already potty trained.

Hurriedly, Keith rushed into the nearest stall, accidentally slamming the door against the partition in his haste. Oops.

Then, as he stared at the potty inside, he realized those weird plastic sculptures lining the adjacent wall weren’t art at all—they must have been the training potties for the younger kids. Keith’s stomach sank with dread and desperation as he realized he didn’t know how to use this potty at all.

This wasn’t like the potties on Earth, or like the ones in the castle. This potty had three different bowls, all at different heights and positions, and Keith didn’t have a clue why there were so many or what they were for or even what position he was supposed to stand or sit in to use it. He didn’t even see any handles or buttons to press to flush it. In fact, only the lowest bowl even had water in it. The only familiar thing Keith saw in this bathroom stall at all was the toilet paper, but that wasn’t going to help him.

Realizing he was quickly running out of time as he tried his best to hold it, Keith considered if he had any other options. He considered just…doing his best and hoping he was using the potty correctly, but what if he didn’t? Most likely he probably wouldn’t. What if he messed it up somehow, or clogged it because he was using it wrong? What if the teachers got mad at him because he didn’t do it right and then they had to clean up his mess? What if he got in trouble again?

Keith couldn’t afford for that to happen.

He considered using one of the training potties, but what if someone walked in and saw him using it wrong and made fun of him? What if they made fun of him because he was supposed to be a big boy in preschool but instead he was still using the little kid potty?

He even briefly considered climbing on top of the sink, but he rejected the idea almost immediately. If someone walked in and saw that he would definitely get in trouble.

Keith was running out of options, and he knew he only had a few moments left before his chance at wearing underwear tomorrow vanished entirely. In a moment of desperation, he decided his best bet was to just try to use the training potty and pray no one walked in. And feign ignorance if he used it wrong and someone found out later.

But Keith didn’t even get a chance to run to the other side of the room before he felt his body betray him, letting go involuntarily into his pullup.

Keith’s lower lip jutted out and wobbled slightly as he stood there, helplessly having an accident in his pants and being unable to stop it. He felt as it started out as a little trickle, but quickly grew to a rushing stream that dashed Keith’s hopes of wearing his undies with every second he couldn’t get his bladder under control. His pullup grew warm and heavy, sagging between his legs and flooding Keith with shame.

Keith was mere seconds away from crying when suddenly his eyes went dry and wide with panic, adrenaline pumping through his veins.

He still had to go potty—was still actively going potty—when his pullup finally hit its limit. Keith felt hot urine pool in his pullup and then trickle down one leg, then the other, and suddenly his pants felt just as warm as his padding. Keith looked down in horror as his shorts grew dark with pee, and then as the droplets raced down his legs, seeping into his socks and pooling around him in a small puddle on the floor.

Keith stared down at himself in shock and humiliation as the stream mercifully petered out. He’d never had an accident before in his entire life! Not even when he was little! Tears gathered in his eyes as he berated himself for wetting his pants like a useless baby. He was supposed to be a big boy! It wasn’t fair!

He stood motionless in the bathroom, partly out of fear and partly because he didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t go back out into the classroom or else everyone would know that he accidentally went potty in his pants. He’d never live it down.

He also had to clean up the puddle on the floor, but he didn’t know how! He didn’t see any cleaning supplies—not even paper towels. He didn’t know what to do!

Keith was trapped. He couldn’t leave the bathroom, but sooner or later someone was bound to come in and find him, or at least find the puddle on the floor. There wasn’t anywhere good for hiding in the bathroom, so whoever came in next was bound to know it was his fault. There was nothing he could do, so he just stood there in front of the stalls as his pants, socks, and pullup turned cold and clammy.

After another eternity went by, Keith’s stomach dropped as he heard the bathroom door open, sealing his fate.

“Keith, are you okay? Why are you—” Tavri poked her head in as Keith whipped around to stare at her with a deer-in-the-headlights expression. Immediately, the tears in his eyes welled over as Tavri’s face morphed into understanding, seeing Keith standing in a puddle with very wet shorts. “Oh!” she exclaimed shortly, promptly ducking back out of the restroom.

Finally, a sob broke free from Keith’s chest. Of course Tavri didn’t want to be friends with a baby who couldn’t even keep his pants dry. There went his shot at having any friends at all.

However, just a few moments later as Keith continued to stand there and cry, the bathroom door opened again, but this time it was Miss Ezrin who came inside.

“Oh, sweetheart—” she exclaimed sadly, “what happened? Did you not make it in time?”

Keith shook his head vehemently, having trouble finding his voice through his sobbing.

“Then what happened?” the teacher asked, waiting very patiently for Keith to get his bearings and respond.

“I don’t know how to—how to use this kind of potty!” he hiccupped.

“Oh—is your potty at home different?” she asked sympathetically. They didn’t often take care of children who hadn’t grown up on the Blade base, so this wasn’t a problem they typically encountered. But considering the wide range of toilets that spanned the universe according to culture and biology, someone probably should’ve seen this coming.

Keith simply nodded his head, sniffling.

After that, Miss Ezrin attempted to explain how Galran toilets worked. This was part of her job description after all, helping to toilet train the younger children whose parents were on a long-term mission but were at that stage of development.

Keith seemed to calm down some as she made age-appropriate gestures, miming how the potty was supposed to be used and explaining what to do if he had to go number one or number two.

But then Miss Ezrin started talking about what to do in case of number threes and even number fours, and then Keith was helplessly lost all over again. The frustrated tears and confusion must have shown on his face, because Miss Ezrin stopped in the middle of her demonstration.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

But Keith just let out another tiny sob, not sure how to say that he didn’t have any idea what she was talking about. Moreover, Keith’s shorts and oversaturated pullup were becoming very uncomfortable the way he wasn’t used to sitting in a wet diaper, and he desperately wanted out.

Clearly, this wasn’t going to work.

“Maybe we should save potty training for another day, huh?” she suggested.

More tears streamed down Keith’s face, upset because he still wanted to be a big boy, but also knowing a lost cause when he saw one. Reluctantly, he nodded his head in agreement. Maybe he wouldn’t be able to wear the underwear he’d been so excited about, but right now he’d easily settle for just another clean, dry pullup.

“Well, how about we get you changed, then? How’s that sound?”

Keith nodded again, and as Miss Ezrin reached down, Keith reached up for her noticing he was about to be picked up. She carried him bridal style out of the bathroom, which Keith only found acceptable because it hid most of the wetness on his pants from his classmates. Still, he hated feeling how heavy and swollen the pullup was between his legs; it made him feel like a baby.

As soon as they exited the bathroom, Keith saw Tavri waiting at the end of the short hall.

“Is Keith okay?” the young girl asked the teacher as they approached, Tavri following along with them as Miss Ezrin carried Keith through the classroom.

“He’s just fine, Tavri; he just needs a change of clothes, is all.” She answered for Keith, who was busy hiding his face against Miss Ezrin’s shoulder, not wanting to see if anyone in his class was looking at him. He was sure they were.

It felt like they were walking for a long time, but Keith didn’t know where Miss Ezrin was taking him. Hopefully to a room where she could help Keith change his clothes and undergarments in private.

But, of course, that was just wishful thinking.

When Miss Ezrin finally set him down again, it wasn’t on his feet, on the floor. No, she’d set him down on his back on what was unmistakably one of the changing tables in the daycare part of the room. Keith flushed bright red, realizing this was where he was going to be changed. And Tavri was just standing there next to him, watching, looking for all the world like this wasn’t anything unusual or embarrassing. Like Keith was just any regular baby about to get his diaper changed.

Miss Ezrin, clearly noticing Keith’s discomfort with being watched, turned to Tavri and made a request.

“Why don’t you go get Keith’s bags and bring them over here. I know he has a change of clothes in there.” As well as the changing supplies Shiro had asked to be used in case of this very event. Miss Ezrin didn’t say that, though.

“Okay!” Tavri chirped and sped off, always trying to be helpful.

Miss Ezrin turned back to Keith. “Alright, why don’t we get these wet pants off, hmm?” she said, hooking her fingers in the waistband of Keith’s pants and sliding his shorts all the way down and off his legs. She peeled his wet socks off as well, leaving Keith in just his T-shirt and very full pullup. Keith flushed even brighter, feeling exposed.

Luckily, she waited to undo the soggy padding around his waist until Tavri returned and dropped off his things, Miss Ezrin instructing her to go back to her seat for the next class activity and giving Keith a modicum of privacy. He breathed a small sigh of relief at that. He was also glad this changing table was against the wall, and that Miss Ezrin’s body was blocking sight of most of Keith’s body, except for his head and legs.

Keith tried to steel himself. He wasn’t sure how to feel about this.

On one hand, getting his diaper changed by someone else—and on a real changing table, no less—had been one of Keith’s favorite and most secret fantasies about being little, even though the reality of it was also mortifying. But that was part of the appeal, too. It took an unbelievable amount of trust to be that vulnerable around someone and know they wouldn’t see you any differently or think any less of you afterwards. That was why he’d always dreamed of Shiro being the one to change his dirty diapers; it would be about as close to unconditional love as Keith—or anyone, really—could ever get. And all he’d ever really wanted was to be loved.

But the reality was that Keith had never wet himself before, let alone had a genuine accident. And even if this hadn’t been his first time actually wearing protection, Keith wasn’t sure if he ever would’ve found the courage to let go in front of Shiro, and then admit to his caregiver that he needed to be changed. Or worse—if Keith had peed his pants and then chickened out of telling, leaving Shiro to find out for himself what Keith had secretly done when he inevitably had his diaper checked.

Either way, Keith had never really imagined his first real change going quite like this.

On the upside, he liked Miss Ezrin. She was kind and compassionate, and she seemed to be able to read Keith without him having to say much. She was also acting very nonchalant, treating this whole thing very casually, like Keith didn’t have anything to be embarrassed about because she’d changed hundreds of children’s diapers before—which was probably true, considering where she worked. It eased Keith’s mind a little, but it didn’t override the fact that he’d never actually had his pullup changed before—at least, not that he could remember.

And then, without further ado once Tavri left their sights, Miss Ezrin was ripping the sides of Keith’s overfull pullup, pulling the wet garment out from underneath him and rolling it up to dispose of in the diaper pail by his feet. Needless to say, Keith went red all the way to the tips of his ears, exposed for the whole world to see. Or at least his teacher.

The blush never ceased, either. Not until Miss Ezrin finished cleaning Keith up, wiping thoroughly between his legs and all the way down to his feet, considering he’d been standing in his own pee just a few minutes before. She also made sure to raise his legs up high to wipe up his bottom, since the seat of his pants had gotten a bit stained too.

Logically, Keith knew he could’ve done that part himself. Hell, Miss Ezrin probably would’ve let him if he’d argued that he could clean himself up. But the moment she started wiping him down, Keith’s mind got a little fuzzier, and a warm feeling started to blossom in his chest. Yes—it was kind of embarrassing, but it was also kind of nice. It made Keith feel a lot smaller than he usually did, being taken care of so intimately. Not having to worry about doing it himself and leaving the responsibility to someone who was better equipped to deal with it. After all, Keith had never changed a diaper before, let alone his own. What if he did it wrong?

When Miss Ezrin deemed him clean enough, she rifled through his red backpack for some baby powder and one of the diapers his caregiver had packed.

Keith paused—a diaper?

He squeaked in protest as Miss Ezrin unfolded one of the much thicker diapers Shiro had bought for him at the space mall. He thought he was just getting changed into a clean version of his previous padding.

“But my pullups…” Keith whined, asking his question silently. Speaking directly to Miss Ezrin while she changed him also seemed to break the weird tension that still had a foothold in his belly—for some reason he suddenly felt much less self-conscious about the nudity of his lower-half on the changing table.

“Well…pullups are for big kids who are trying to potty train, right?”

Keith nodded in agreement.

“And we said we would try potty training another day. Pullups are only meant for little accidents, but we need to wear diapers if we can’t use the big potty, okay?” she tried to kindly explain to him.

“Oh…” Keith said, looking down a little dejectedly. He guessed that made sense. He supposed he was feeling less and less like a big kid by the minute, anyway.

“But it’s alright!” she tried to cheer him up, “Now you don’t have to worry about having any more yucky accidents, and you don’t have to stop playing just to go potty.” She leaned in closer to Keith, continuing on in a playful whisper, “That means you get to have more fun than the big kids…but don’t tell them I told you!” Miss Ezrin winked and gave his tummy a tickle, surprising a giggly laugh out of him.

Maybe she was right. Maybe a diaper wouldn’t be so bad after all…

After that, Miss Ezrin lifted Keith up by the ankles again and slid the cutesy, zoo-themed baby diaper under him, pulling it up between his legs and making the necessary adjustments. Once she had it appropriately placed under him, she sprinkled baby powder generously between his legs and rubbed some more on his bottom. Finally, she taped the diaper snugly around Keith’s hips, not too loose and not too tight.

“There. How’s that?” she asked.

Keith didn’t really answer, just kind of wiggled around on the changing table. The diaper was much thicker than his pullups had been, but it also made him feel even more safe and protected than his thinner padding. It was softer and more comfortable than he’d imagined, and he liked that it didn’t matter whether he was sitting on a cloud or a hard concrete floor—as long as he was wearing his diaper wherever he plopped his bottom would be just as soft and cozy.

He smiled.

“See? It’s not so bad. Being a big kid is overrated anyway.” Miss Ezrin said.

Yeah. Maybe she was right about that, too. Keith had always had to keep his guard up around big kids, especially if they were older than him. He had to admit, he was a little tired of always worrying if the other preschoolers could see his pullup, and he couldn’t even nurse on his pacifier if he wanted to, either. Big kids were mean a lot. But maybe now he wouldn’t have to worry about that anymore.

Then, to his excitement, he watched as Miss Ezrin pulled out the only other pair of bottoms he had with him—his overalls. Yes! Keith let out a small squeal of delight and clapped his hands.

“You like wearing your cute little shortalls, huh?” she guessed.

Keith nodded happily.

The teacher threaded his legs into the garment, then positioned him to sit upright so she could fasten the straps over his shoulders. Keith’s diaper crinkled underneath him. Then, last but not least, she fished out another pair of socks and helped him put those on as well.

Keith definitely wasn’t as big as he’d been just a few minutes ago, but he would later be kind of glad for that. If he’d still been old enough to be capable of reading and writing, he probably would’ve worried that the overalls made his diaper quite noticeable, especially if he sat down on the floor. The pant legs were quite short, after all, and if Keith had his legs spread to any degree while he was sat down, the babyish pattern of his diaper was put clearly on display through the leg holes. Not to mention that his backside certainly looked a bit…bigger than before.

But the truth was that Keith was too little to care about such things anymore.

“Alright, then, I’ll get these washed up for you—oh!” Miss Ezrin pulled something out of one of his pockets. It was his binky. “Do you want this, honey?” she asked.

Keith nodded enthusiastically, making grabby hands for it.

“Okay, one second…” she made him wait, moving over to the sink nearby to wash both her hands and the pacifier, even though the pocket it had been in had been dry. Always better to be safe than sorry. “Here you go!” she said, popping the pacifier in his mouth and clipping it to the chest pocket on his overalls. “Looks like you’re all ready to go!” she declared, picking Keith up under his armpits and setting him back on the floor.

However, once Keith was put down, he wasn’t quite sure what to do. He looked over to his seat in class, watching as Tavri colored something on some paper along with the rest of the kids. Was he supposed to go back to preschool now? He wasn’t sure he was capable of doing big kid things like that anymore. Even just using his words felt a little more difficult than it had before.

Miss Ezrin clearly saw his reluctance. “What do you wanna do, Keith? Do you wanna learn about all the different sea creatures with your friend Tavri? Or do you wanna stay here and play some more?”

“Play!” Keith declared loudly around his binky. But before Miss Ezrin could even suggest something for him to do, the toddler clambered away to play with a toy that had been left under the playground equipment. It was one of their sensory toys, one that made a lot of sounds and had lots of lights and holographic pictures that popped up when you pressed different buttons. She watched as Keith sat down on his bottom very abruptly and essentially began banging his hands against the toy as if to test it. But that was alright—the toys in the daycare were very durable, often getting dropped and thrown around and shoved into the occasional curious mouth. They were built tough for a reason. Miss Ezrin chuckled to herself, then turned her attention to the rest of the children in the daycare.

Keith was ecstatic just to sit and play with a new toy he’d never seen before, but one that reminded him greatly of some of the toys he’d played with when he was hardly more than two years old.

Keith didn’t think he’d ever felt more carefree in his life—at least not that he could remember, anyway.

Chapter Text

Keith was having a grand old time discovering what all the fun buttons and levers did on the toy he’d found under the playground, giggling and cooing in delight at the different sounds and pictures that popped up on command. He spent a fair amount of time pressing some buttons over and over, fascinated and entertained by the specific sound, song, or small holographic video clip that played when he pressed it. Some he just couldn’t seem to get enough of, squealing with glee around his pacifier.

He'd dropped down pretty far in his headspace, but Keith was too small to care much. He hadn’t ever been quite this little before, but he was enjoying himself more than he ever had, so he couldn’t find it in himself to be concerned about it, let alone pretend he didn’t like it. In fact, a part of him was probably wishing he could’ve stayed like that forever.  

For once he had no worries beyond what was right in front of him. He’d given up total control of his actions and environment in exchange for being released from any kind of obligation or responsibility. Keith might’ve been left to the whims of his caregivers, but he was free from his stressors as well. Anything he might’ve had to worry about would be taken care of by the grown-ups, who were much more capable than him, and Keith instead was left to play to his heart’s content. He didn’t have to do a single thing except have fun.

Keith wasn’t sure how long he sat there exploring the toy he’d found when he was suddenly—but not rudely—interrupted.

“Hi, Keith!” Tavri greeted him excitedly once she’d gotten out of her lesson.

Keith, pleasantly surprised to see her, babbled back in similar excitement while also attempting to show her the new toy he’d been playing with.

“Oh, what’s that?” She asked, crouching down to get a closer look.

Keith pressed some of his favorite buttons for her, giggling all the while. Tavri leaned over to press a few herself.

“Haha, cool!” she indulged the toddler. She might’ve been too old to really have much interest in the toy herself, but Keith was still her friend, even if he was a little younger now. Tavri still wanted him to feel included.

“Do you wanna play tag with us?” She asked the little boy.

Keith nodded enthusiastically. Yes! He’d never really gotten to play fun playground games like tag or hide n’ seek since Keith had only ever gotten to be little by himself or with Shiro—especially since they’d mostly been confined to his dorm room at the Garrison. Keith probably hadn’t played a game of tag since elementary school.  

“Okay, c’mon! Let’s get our shoes on.” She told him. It seemed like half the preschool class was already at their cubbies, getting ready to play on the playground. Keith felt special, getting invited to play with the big kids still.

The little boy cautiously wobbled to his feet, clumsily pushing himself off the ground. Once he was upright and stable, Tavri grabbed his hand to drag him over to the back wall of the room, and Keith toddled along behind her. He noticed his movements were hampered a little more than he was used to, mostly due to the bulk of the diaper now saddled between his legs. It made him waddle a bit, but he found he actually didn’t mind too much.

Tavri led the boy back to his own cubby, then left to go find hers. Keith, meanwhile, plopped back down onto his bottom and started pulling everything out of his cubby, looking for the light-up Velcro sneakers he’d gotten with Shiro at the space mall. Unfortunately, his coordination was another one of the things he was having more trouble with, so he’d only gotten one shoe on his foot before Tavri came back to get him.

Luckily, Tavri was really nice, so she helped Keith put on his other shoe and even did the straps for him before helping him back to his feet. Keith stomped his feet on the ground, happily watching as the multi-colored lights flashed and strobed along the outsole. He loved his new shoes.

Before he could fully appreciate them, though, Tavri was pulling him along again, this time back to the playground. It seemed the game was already in full swing.

“Me and Keith are playing too!” She called out to everyone, and specifically Omi who had was currently ‘it’. At the announcement, Omi turned his mischievous gaze towards Tavri, and immediately changed course to chase her instead, even though he wasn’t particularly close.

“Run, Keith!” Tavri called out, pushing him along.

Keith toddled as fast as he could, significantly slower than all the preschoolers but not particularly observant of that fact. He screamed and laughed and ran as fast as his wobbly, clumsy legs could carry him, having far more fun than anyone would’ve expected considering the fact that most of the older kids were completely passing him up as a target. Omi ran right past him, heart set on catching Tavri, who was one of the fastest kids in her class.

Keith was completely oblivious. If anyone ran towards him—whether they were ‘it’ or not—Keith ran away laughing like a madman high on adrenaline. He was having so much fun, not even noticing that most of the older kids ignored him because he was too easy to catch, and too slow to catch anyone else.

Keith was the literal baby of the group, so it became a kind of unspoken rule between the preschoolers that no one would or should tag him. As long as he was having fun—and he was having loads of it anyway—it was okay to pass him up for tagging.

Unfortunately, not all of the preschoolers were as perceptive to these unspoken social rules, or to the consequences of their actions. One of the boys who was tagged immediately went for Keith because he was such an easy target, much to the other kids’ chagrin. In the course of about fifteen seconds, the boy who was ‘it’ ran from one end of the playground to the other, where Keith was screaming giddily and blindly lagging behind the other group of kids who were also running away from that end of the playset.

For a brief moment, Tavri and a few of the other preschoolers held their breath as they watched Keith get tagged a little too forcefully for his uncoordinated legs, and he tumbled to the ground. Worried he was about to start wailing for a completely different reason, they were pleasantly surprised when he bounced back to his feet like a rubber ball, his big smile never once leaving his face for even a second.

Immediately, Keith changed course to begin chasing other kids with no particular direction or plan of action beyond running in the direction of the closest person, even if who that was changed every few seconds. Keith, despite the fact that he was considerably slower than all the bigger kids and only ever had a snowball’s chance in hell of catching them, remained oblivious to this fact and was thus immune to discouragement. He laughed and babbled excitedly all the same as he tried to chase down whichever preschooler was in sight.

Tavri immediately knew someone was going to have to take one for the team if they ever wanted the game to actually be challenging again, so she volunteered herself.

“Hey, Keith!” she called to get the little one’s attention, “Come and get me!”

Keith whipped around, a huge grin reappearing on his face as he plodded after his friend, one bumbling step after the other. Tavri stayed purposely out of reach for a bit as she let Keith slowly catch up to her, giving him his own challenge—but one that was still achievable. After stringing him along for a little, the bigger girl gradually slowed down, letting Keith tag her with a proud, giggly “You’re it!” as Tavri let out a fake groan of disappointment.

“Aw, man!”

Then, once again, she pretended to set her sights back on Keith with a dangerous glint in her eye, and the boy in question shrieked and ran away again.

The game was back on.

The little boy wasn’t sure how long they played for after that, but he was definitely growing more tired when he was suddenly plucked up off his feet by one of the grown-ups. He squeaked in surprise, but was pleased to find out it was Miss Ezrin who’d picked him up and was now settling him against her hip.

“Hey, cutie,” she greeted him, “It’s your turn for lunch. Feeling hungry?”

Keith hadn’t noticed it before, but his tummy grumbled in answer for him. He giggled at the coincidence.

“I’ll take that as a yes!” Miss Ezrin replied.

The little boy she was holding against her side didn’t say anything as Keith was carted over to a small table on the daycare side of the room where a few highchairs, booster seats, and regular chairs were set up. Some of the older toddlers were seating in the booster seats eating cut-up pieces of some kind of entrée, plus what looked like finger foods like fruit and crackers. There was only one other younger baby sitting in one of the highchairs, being fed by one the daycare teachers Keith hadn’t formally met yet.

Having observed that Keith’s age tended to fluctuate, she bounced the boy on her hip lightly and gave him a considering look.

“How are you feeling, Keith? Do you think you can be a big boy and feed yourself or do you need a little help?” She asked him.

Keith, not having much of an attention span for things that didn’t necessarily entertain him and who had been feeling smaller and smaller the more time he spent in daycare, simply babbled happily at the question as he wiggled in Miss Ezrin’s hold.

Noting the lack of answer, she murmured, “Better safe than sorry,” to herself as sat Keith down in the other unoccupied highchair, buckling him in so he didn’t fall.

Despite how little he felt, he noticed immediately how high up he was off the ground. The table he was sitting at was clearly made for Galra adults, as opposed to the tables and desks that he’d been sitting at in preschool—clearly made for small people like him. In the highchair, Keith was probably sitting around where his head would be if he was standing up—and he was really enjoying it.

“Don’t wanna get your cute overalls all dirty.” Miss Ezrin interjected as she wrapped a bib around Keith’s neck. The little boy kicked his feet back and forth under the table and cooed.

Then, suddenly, a plate of something that looked like grapes or berries appeared on the tray of his highchair. It was what some of the bigger kids were eating. Miss Ezrin wanted to see if Keith could feed himself.

The little boy in question clumsily picked up one of the fruits from the plate and held it in the palm of his hand. He looked over the side of the highchair again and, feeling so high up, he was suddenly overcome with an urge he couldn’t resist.

Immediately, Keith threw the grape-thing on the ground. He giggled like it was the funniest thing he’d ever seen as it bounced and rolled away. He did the same thing with another piece of the fruit before Miss Ezrin took the plate off his tray, which Keith fussed and whined over as he reached unsuccessfully to grab it back.

“Let’s try something else.” Miss Ezrin suggested to him as she went to go pick up and dispose of the fruit Keith had thrown onto the floor.

When she came back, she had a few jars in her hand and a large rubber-coated spoon, which she disappointingly kept on the table out of Keith’s reach.

The first jar she opened was the same purple-red color as the fruit had been. Keith wouldn’t make the connection until he was bigger that he was clearly being fed a mashed, pureed version of the berries instead. Regardless, when Miss Ezrin fed the first spoonful into his mouth, Keith was delighted by the sweet taste. The little boy banged his hands against the tray for more.

“Oh?” Miss Ezrin chuckled. “Is that good, sweetheart? Is it yummy?”

Keith cooed unintelligibly at her questioning tone, hoping she understood that he wanted more. He assumed it worked when another spoonful was being directed toward his mouth, and Keith opened his mouth wide.

“Good boy!” the teacher praised. Keith gave her a big smile and a little excited squeal. He was super hungry now, but he was also happy about being praised. Miss Ezrin was really nice.

Keith complied easily every time Miss Ezrin went to give him another spoonful. The spoon she was using was bigger—or at least thicker—than most of the spoons Keith was used to eating with since it was covered with a softer, protective material. Sometimes that made it difficult for the entire spoonful of mush to make it successfully into Keith’s mouth, often smearing against his lips or cheeks—not that Keith really noticed or cared. Usually, when a blob of baby food fell onto Keith’s chin, Miss Ezrin would scoop it back into his mouth with the spoon and wipe off the excess with his bib.

By the time Keith was finished with the second jar—which had a much more savory flavor that Keith didn’t recognize—his face and bib had been pretty thoroughly covered in food, which the little boy was oblivious to, happily sated. His tummy gave out a little burp, signaling that Keith was full.

“You’re kind of a messy eater, aren’t you?” Miss Ezrin stated with a chuckle, taking in the sticky mess on the baby’s face and bib. She got up to get a fresh washcloth and wetted it in the sink, using it to clean off the bits of food that were still clinging to Keith’s mouth and face. “At least your overalls survived, huh?” She remarked as she took the bib off of the small child, now as fresh and clean as before.

As Miss Ezrin continued cleaning off the highchair tray and the table, Keith looked around the room again, seeing Tavri and some of his friends from preschool also sitting at their table across the room and eating lunch.

“Tab’i!” Keith cried as he tried to wiggle his way unsuccessfully out of the highchair, still held in place by the belts and buckles and getting fussier about it with every passing moment.

“Hold your horses there, cutie. I’ll get you down.” Miss Ezrin reassured. Quickly, she threw the used bib and rags in a bin to be washed later before unbuckling Keith and picking him up under his arms to release him from the highchair.

As soon as Keith was placed back on his feet, he toddled over to his friend from preschool.

“Hi, Keith!” Tavri said again. She was always happy to see him.

Honestly, Keith didn’t really have any reason to come over here besides the fact he enjoyed spending time with his friends. Keith didn’t say anything in response—words were feeling pretty hard right now, but Keith didn’t mind too much, since he didn’t really have anything to say anyway. Even just understanding them was getting kind of difficult, too. Luckily, Tavri pulled out the chair that used to be Keith’s and patted it, motioning for Keith to sit down. He understood that perfectly well.

He noticed the chair felt a lot more comfortable now under his diapered bottom than it had underneath his thin pullup. It was a lot less cold, too. Keith was glad he was allowed to be in pretty much any class he wanted—he was kind of really enjoying getting to be more of a baby than a big boy, but he would’ve also really missed Tavri if he was only allowed to be in daycare.

Keith felt very warm and safe like this. He wasn’t worried about nursing his pacifier in public, or anxious about the big kids noticing his diaper when he was this little. He was only in daycare now, after all. And who would make fun of a baby for, well, being a baby? This was a lot better. Keith might no longer have the same level of dignity and independence the big kids in preschool or kindergarten had, but he realized it wasn’t so bad a trade if it meant he could comfortably indulge in all the things he actually really liked about his headspace and had always been hesitant to admit to otherwise.

He liked the comforting, safe feeling wearing diapers gave him. He liked playing with simple toys that Keith couldn’t play with ‘wrong’. He liked that he could still pretend to go on big adventures with his friends without risking anyone actually getting hurt. And he also liked letting the grown-ups take care of him, knowing that if anything went wrong, they would be able to fix it for him. They didn’t expect him to be responsible. They didn’t even think he was capable of it, and that fact in itself was extremely freeing to Keith, who was so often responsible for people’s lives. He might not have been in control of even his own life, but he knew he was safe and cared for. To him, it felt like all this weight had been lifted off his tiny shoulders.

Eventually, however, sitting around while the big kids finished lunch bored Keith. He’d already been fed, and the preschoolers discussion didn’t really hold his interest—not that Keith could really participate even if he’d wanted to anyway. Plus, now that Tavri had run out of those little red squares that reminded Keith of tater tots to share with him, he was all too easily distracted.

Something caught his attention. He didn’t know how he hadn’t noticed it before. In all honesty, it was probably because he’d been so worried about being a big boy in preschool that he wasn’t paying attention to what was in the daycare room at all, and since he’d demoted himself to daycare, his observation and attention skills had declined significantly. But now that he was bored, it caught his attention almost immediately.

Along the same wall where the benches in the preschool sat was something Keith hadn’t realized he’d wanted so desperately to experience until his eyes fell upon it for the first time maybe in his entire life.

It was a baby jumper.

Suspended from a support beam on the ceiling were two small swings—more like harnesses really—that Keith could easily tell were made for bouncing. And Keith loved bouncing.

He loved it when grown-ups bounced him up and down on their own. Usually, they only did it when Keith was being fussy or was otherwise upset by something, and they were trying to soothe him. Trying to calm him down. Keith was almost embarrassed by how easily it worked on him, but it was also fun. It distracted him easily. They often bounced him against their hip or in their arms, but it wasn’t uncommon for Shiro to bounce Keith on his knee or in his lap, especially if Shiro wanted to cuddle him but Keith was being restless. It was an easy way to sway him quite literally into complacency and Keith had no complaints.

Being bounced was fun and relaxing and often made him feel all warm and fuzzy inside since it usually included being physically close to a caregiver. To someone Keith loved. To someone who loved Keith, even though he was too little to be useful to them. It made him feel special, and little, and so, so loved.

Plus, Keith couldn’t really bounce himself. It was something only other people could do, usually. Obviously, he could try—but the effect wasn’t the same. It was like trying to tickle yourself, in a way—it just didn’t work as well.

But this. This was something Keith had forgot even existed. It might not be the same in the sense that he wouldn’t feel the same kind of love and caring that he got from someone like Shiro when he bounced Keith on his legs, but it didn’t take away from the fact that it would still be just as fun and exciting as it was otherwise. That it would make Keith’s tummy feel the same fuzzy way it got when he felt extra small and extra happy. It was like all his little dreams coming true.

Suddenly, he wanted nothing more.

Keith was so excited that he tripped on his way over there, uncoordinated as he was. It did little to slow him down, though. However, it was only once he reached the baby bouncers that he realized there was a problem.

He couldn’t reach them.

The part where Keith was supposed to be sat in was about at chest height, since it was meant to support most of his weight. Which meant if Keith wanted to get in, he would have to climb in—but that wasn’t very possible considering it was suspended by a couple of bungee cords and wasn’t very stable. Not to mention, Keith didn’t exactly have very good motor function when he was this little.

Still, he tried. He didn’t get very far. The best he could do was pull it a little farther down and lean his upper body over the plastic tray—like the one on his highchair—that surrounded the harness part of the swing. Unfortunately, that wouldn’t actually make for very good bouncing if Keith couldn’t get his feet through the leg holes. As of now, Keith couldn’t even get his feet off the ground—he was afraid that if he tried, he would just fall off.

He kept trying and trying, too little to realize that he needed an adult to help him if he wanted to play in the jumper, so instead he just started making fussy, grumpy noises. Calling out to no one in particular in distress. In need. And when he eventually got too frustrated, he gave up, plopping down on the floor and starting to cry loudly.

That, luckily, got the attention of a grown-up.

“Oh, Keith, sweetheart, what’s wrong?” It was Miss Ezrin again.

Keith just pointed up at the jumper, letting out another long, loud cry because he didn’t know how else to communicate what he wanted. Another tear dripped down his red, frowny face.

“Did you want to play in the bouncer, is that it?” She asked, leaning down to be closer to his level.

Keith nodded, though he still couldn’t control his crying or his breathing, for that matter.

“Well, we can fix that pretty easy, can’t we?” She said, leaning down further to pick Keith up under his arms. In a matter of seconds, Miss Ezrin had Keith hoisted up and his legs threaded into the harness of the baby bouncer.

“There you go, cutie! How’s that?”

Immediately, Keith’s cries quieted, even though his face was still splotchy and red. This was…nice. He noted that the baby bouncer was just high enough for only his toes to touch the ground once he was placed in it—otherwise he was basically suspended in the air. He did a few little test jumps and practically soothed himself back to normal. He gave a couple of last little sniffles, already clearly much happier than he’d been just seconds ago.

“I’ll keep my eye on you, but you just call out again if you need me, okay?” Miss Ezrin said.

Keith didn’t really register the question, barely able to think beyond the present moment and already getting to work bouncing in earnest. In a matter of minutes, the tears from Keith’s face dried completely and it was as if he’d never been upset at all. Already he was giggling away as he pushed himself up and down and up and down, kicking his legs out wildly ecstatically he was high up in the air and slapping his palms against the plastic tray that surrounded him, unable to contain his excitement.

That was one of the best parts, too—Keith didn’t just get to jump in the bouncer. The tray around him also had toys attached to it. There was one that was kind of like toys he’d seen when he was a kid at doctor’s offices, with a bunch of beads on a bendy wire that you could move back and forth. There were some other fun shapes you could spin around and feel, including some very special ones that lit up when he touched them!

Keith was enamored, giggling constantly as he bounced himself in the jumper. He could do this forever he felt like. His tummy even had that same funny feeling he got when Shiro pushed him on swings, the same feeling he got when he flew Red really fast in Voltron. Keith had been having a lot of fun today, but this took the cake for sure.

In fact, Keith was having so much fun that when he was big again, he would eventually end up buying one of these for himself on the castle and hiding it in one of the innumerable unused barrack rooms so Shiro could put him in it the next time he was little. It would entertain him for hours, he was sure, and it would make it easy for Shiro to get some work done if Keith dropped at an inconvenient time. He considered then if maybe Shiro would let him watch cartoons in the bouncer too, and then considered the idea that maybe they could make one of the unused rooms into a nursery for him. It would be easy to keep secret, considering just how many barren rooms there were in the castle. But that was something to think about and discuss later.

Keith didn’t know how long he bounced for, or how long he played with the toys for, but it was long enough that the compounded playing and crying and maybe even eating lunch slowly started to make him feel a little sleepy. He couldn’t help it, and it was easy to relax in the jumper too since it supported Keith’s whole body, especially because there was a back and headrest behind him.

In almost no time at all, Keith’s eyelids felt increasingly harder to keep open, and he succumbed easily to sleep, all too comfortable sitting in the bouncer.

Again, Keith didn’t know how long he slept for, but the next time he opened his eyes, the entire room was dark. He vaguely registered that all the other kids were sleeping too, either in cots or cradles or on soft mats on the floor. Keith took that as a cue that he could keep napping for a little while longer, so he closed his eyes again and dozed lightly for the rest of what appeared to be nap time.

When his eyes opened a second time, his hands were being gently squeezed by Miss Ira, attempting to wake him up.

“Good afternoon, sleepyhead.” She smiled as he blinked owlishly at her, still a little dazed from his nap. “Would like to get out of the bouncer, little one?”

Keith was a little too groggy to respond, and at the moment he didn’t particularly care either. Regardless, Miss Ira seemed to take his lack of response as a yes, or maybe she just thought he’d been in the baby jumper a little too long, considering they’d let him sleep in it.

Keith reached for her weakly as Miss Ira pulled him out of the harness. It was then that Keith realized his diaper was noticeably heavier—noticeably soggier—than it had been before he’d fallen asleep. At any other time, the fact that he’d wet himself in his sleep might’ve embarrassed him, but he was still too drowsy to care. Too little, too. Keith didn’t have the mental capacity to keep track or worry about what he did in his diaper. That wasn’t his job anymore. If something needed to be done, the grown-ups would take care of it for him.

And, sure enough, before she set him down, Miss Ira gave Keith’s swollen diaper a couple of good pats since Keith’s overalls prevented her from pulling back the waistband and checking him visually. He didn’t smell too bad, but she knew a wet diaper when she felt one—especially after nap time.

“I think someone could use a change, hm?” She suggested. Most of the little ones usually did after their nap.

Keith only hummed sleepily into the crook of her neck, letting Miss Ira do whatever she pleased with him. He was still trying to wake up, and he didn’t particularly care one way or the other, either.  

Keith was just a baby, after all. He didn’t really have much say, anyway, and that was just fine with him.

Chapter Text

After Keith’s second diaper change of the day, things seemed to pass by in a blur.

He ended up wandering back over to the preschool room, where Tavri and his other classmates were sitting in a circle on the floor listening to Miss Ira read them a story. Keith was thoroughly entertained by his teacher’s funny voices foreach of the characters and the dramatic way she told each line. He was disappointed when the story finally ended and most of the other kids dispersed to go back to playing, but Keith watched as she put the book back on the shelf and then made his way over to look at the other titles for himself.

Keith was too little to be bothered trying to sound out the letters in the title of each book—not to mention he’d forgotten many of them already—so instead he pulled books out to look at the pictures on the cover. Unsupervised, Keith pulled out at least half the books on the lower shelf where he sat before he gasped in delight, having found a story with an illustration of a zaffir on the cover.

Immediately, Keith clambered back up to his feet with the book held tight in both hands and went off to find Tavri. He found her sitting quietly on the floor, looking over the card he and the other preschoolers had made earlier in the day.

“I’s M’r Po!” Keith said proudly behind his pacifier, shoving the book right under the younger girl’s nose so she could see.

The older girl leaned back, slightly startled by the sudden appearance of the book in her face, but shook herself out of it quickly enough.

“Oh yeah—it is!” She said. When Keith just kept looking at her—kept holding the book out to her, she guessed, “Do you want me to read this to you?”

Keith nodded vigorously, plopping back down on the floor next to Tavri so he could see the pictures better.

Tavri wasn’t quite as good of a storyteller as Miss Ira was, and her words didn’t flow as smoothly since she had to sound out quite a few of the words herself, but Keith didn’t mind. He was just glad he got to be read another book since he hadn’t wanted story time to end.

Throughout the day, Keith went back and forth mainly between the preschool and the daycare, sometimes playing with Tavri and some more of her friends, and sometimes playing by himself.

When the older girl grabbed her crayons and some blank paper to draw pictures, she grabbed Keith’s crayons too so he could join (and because he had a lot more colors than she did). Tavri drew pictures of flowers, of space, of her and her family, and even one of her and Keith, which Keith very clumsily attempted to write his name above his crayon portrait.

As for Keith, he simply had fun drawing scribbles in all different colors, with seemingly no rhyme or reason as to what he was doing. Regardless, he showed off every picture he made proudly and beamed when Tavri praised him for it, even if she didn’t know what the drawing was supposed to be. Keith was so happy with the praise that he wanted to show his big brother, so every time he ‘finished’ a picture, he put it wordlessly on Miss Ira’s desk for safekeeping.

Miss Ira had little idea why Keith kept putting his scribbles on her desk, but she kept them in a neat stack in the corner regardless, sure the little boy would want them if he ever got a bit bigger again.

Soon enough, however, Keith was lured back over to the daycare when he saw Miss Ezrin teaching some of the older toddlers a simple song with a simple dance, meant to help them develop their motor skills. Keith stomped his feet, jumped, and clapped his hands happily along with everyone else, having so much fun he completely forgot to sing the words too—just giggling away as he followed along with the daycare teacher’s example.

Keith was finally settling into his place at school, feeling completely carefree now even despite the upsets from earlier in the day. He was much happier to be in his smallest of headspaces, where he had nothing to be self-conscious about and was too little to really misbehave. He might cry or throw a tantrum if he didn’t get his way, but he was simply too young to know better—he was too little to be disciplined. If Keith was upset, all the grown-ups could do was comfort him with hugs and affection—which was really the only thing Keith needed.

Fortunately, Keith was pretty happy-go-lucky when he was this deep in headspace, which was a nice break from how high-strung he could be when he was big. From how often he let his temper get the best of him when he had to be an adult. Here, all the grown-ups just wanted him to have fun and relax, and for once, Keith found it easy. For once, Keith let go off all his worries and basked in the childish joy that being taken care of allowed him to feel.

The day felt like it was passing by quickly. It was nearing dinner time already, and Keith was sitting on the floor by himself. He’d finally felt safe enough to get Mr. Po back out from his cubby, and Keith had collected him and few of the other stuffed animals laying around the room to play zookeeper, just like in the storybook Tavri had read to him earlier.

It was just as Keith was feeding each of his animals plastic replicas of food he’d brought over from the play-kitchen that he was greeted by a surprise visitor.

Normally, Keith was hyperaware of doors opening and closing, even in loud, crowded spaces like his daycare. He’d always had to be wary of people entering and exiting rooms, afraid to be caught off guard in case whoever came in had not-so-good intentions. For perhaps the first time since his father died, however, Keith felt so safe he hadn’t even noticed the newcomer—much like all the other children—until he was face-to-face with the man.

Keith was so absorbed in his play, it wasn’t until Kolivan crouched down to his eye level that the tiny Blade finally realized who was trying to get his attention.

“Hello, Keith. How are you doing? Are you enjoying your time at our daycare?” The older man asked.

Keith, who’d been wavering mostly on the edge of nonverbal since his first diaper change that morning, simply babbled happily in his commanding officer’s direction.

“Aha!” Keith cooed, pacifier falling out of his mouth.

“Hmm. I see.” Kolivan replied hesitantly, honestly surprised that one of his fiercest members was now so seemingly…vulnerable. It wasn’t exactly what he’d expected. “I’ll take that as a yes, I suppose.”

Keith babbled some more unintelligible syllables at him.

Kolivan sat down on the floor and watched him for a moment. While the older man had known Keith was chronologically this young for a Galra, he hadn’t necessarily assumed Keith would actually regress to such an underdeveloped state. In all honesty, Keith was the first half-Galra to be enlisted in the Blade at all, and since he was told Keith had fully matured for a human, he hadn’t really expected to see such a backwards leap in his growth. He thought, if anything, Keith would simply find himself more comfortable with peers his own age. That he would enjoy more age-appropriate activities. When he’d enrolled Keith in daycare, he hadn’t quite expected that Keith would mentally downgrade so drastically that he wouldn’t be able or willing to speak, or that he’d be so dependent on his elders to keep him clean and fed.

But he did have to admit—Keith was rather cute like this, even if Kolivan wasn’t exactly the best with children.

Once Keith finished ‘feeding’ all the animals in his zoo, Kolivan was surprised when the little boy was suddenly dropping one of the stuffed toys in his lap. The older Galra cautiously picked it up, unsure exactly what to do with it. It seemed Keith was wanting Kolivan to play with him, if the way the little boy gently nudged the zaffir in his own hands against the toy in his was anything to go by.

Unfortunately, Kolivan wasn’t a very good playmate. He didn’t often have reason to visit this area of the base, and it had been a long time since he’d interacted with children of any age, let alone one as young as Keith. It was hard to intuit what the little one wanted—he tried his best, but Keith quickly grew grumpy and frustrated with his CO’s lackluster performance in the art of make-believe.

So, instead, Keith demoted him to a chair.

Rather than attempt to play with Kolivan, who clearly didn’t know how to play zookeeper, Keith rose onto his hands and knees and crawled into the other man’s lap. His commanding officer made for a much comfier place to sit and play than the thin carpet, and Keith could make sure Mr. Po and the duck-like creature he’d given the other man would become the best of friends. It was good, too, that the duck could fly, so that he could visit Mr. Po in his enclosure whenever they wanted.

Kolivan mentally breathed a sigh of relief, no longer on playmate-duty. This was a little bit better, not having to live up to a toddler’s expectations of playing, and instead only having to hold him. It was fascinating to watch Keith play by himself, wondering exactly what kind of storyline he was following in his head since none of his babbling was made up of actual words.

Still, though, Kolivan wasn’t used to this either. The same as he was unused to playing with small children, he was also unused to showing affection beyond a few words of praise to members of the Blade who’d successfully completed their missions. In fact, he was more used to small children crying in his stern presence then seeming so laid back. He never meant to scare them, but he supposed there was something about his appearance that must have frightened them. So, when Keith sat down in his lap, Kolivan had frozen in surprise like a deer in headlights, unsure if moving would disturb the little boy.

He did his best to be still—he even hesitantly wrapped a stiff arm around Keith’s waist, trying to keep him stabilized, but he could hear the daycare teachers subdued laughter even from all the way across the room. He was sure he looked as out-of-place as he felt.

He could admit, though, that it was rather endearing to see Keith so young and untroubled, even as it was also notably unusual. 

Keith was, once again, completely oblivious to Kolivan’s discomfort, lost in his own world of pretend.

Luckily, it wasn’t long before the older man was saved from his own internal sense of awkwardness, as the teacher’s announced that dinner was ready.

“Would you like to stay for dinner, sir?” Miss Ezrin asked, standing above Kolivan. Keith still wriggled about in his lap, either having not noticed or not cared that his teacher had approached. “The older children and us are having a dish of noodles and mixed vegetables.”

“Sure. I’d like to discuss with you how Keith’s day went here anyhow.” He replied. He’d expected to hear what all had happened straight from the boy himself, but since that clearly wasn’t possible at the moment, he might as well ask his teachers. It had also been a while since he’d checked in with them about the daycare in general—he might as well check that off his to-do list now.

In the end, Kolivan somehow got roped into being the one to feed Keith in his highchair as they discussed the little boy’s struggles and highlights of the day. Helping the toddler eat his dinner, at least, was a little easier for him to do. Kolivan functioned best when he had some kind of goal or objective to work towards, even if that goal was as simple as ‘get more food into the baby’s mouth than onto his face or clothes.’ It was part of what made him a good leader.

He was sorry to hear about the trouble Keith had had being put in time-out earlier, but he found he wasn’t too surprised. Keith, even for all he was a good soldier, had obviously had a troubled past. With the way Keith was so recklessly willing to risk his life at times, it wasn’t any shock to Kolivan to learn that he had repressed self-esteem issues.

“I assume you’re planning on giving a report on this to his caregiver?” The leader asked. If he’d had a closer relationship with the young man, he might’ve wanted to do something himself, but he figured it was a job better left to Shiro, knowing how close the two of them were.

“Yes, that’s what we were planning on.” Miss Ezrin replied. “It was easy enough to resolve in the end, but I think it’d be best to discuss ways to mitigate his tendency for self-harming behavior in the future. It wasn’t mentioned in any of the paperwork, so I’m not even sure if his caregiver’s aware of it. He does seem to be doing much better on the younger side of the scale, though.”

“That’s good to hear, at least.” Kolivan said right as Keith pulled hard on his ear. The little boy—and even Miss Ezrin—giggled at the undignified yelp that came out of the man’s mouth. “I’ll get you for that later, you little rascal.” He teased.

Eventually, the night wore on. Keith and a few of the other smaller children who were staying overnight were quickly bathed, changed, and dressed in their pajamas, all ready for bedtime. The teachers laid some of the youngest children in their cribs, and Keith and another girl were allowed to sleep on futons. Even though the preschoolers got to stay up a little later than the children in the daycare (if they were quiet), Tavri came and dragged Keith’s futon to the edge of the daycare carpet, so Tavri could lay her own futon down next to his in the preschool.

By the time all of the daycare children were settled, the teachers all gathered together—including Mr. Klaxil with his funny space-guitar—and sang the children to sleep. Tavri and some of the preschoolers joined in, having heard these same lullabies many times over the years, and in no time at all, Keith was fast asleep.

It was the deepest sleep he’d had in ages.

When morning finally arrived, Keith was still so deep in headspace he nearly forgot entirely that his caregiver was coming to pick him up that day. Instead, he enjoyed being toted around the room much the same as he had last night, getting his overnight diaper changed, being dressed back in his overalls, being fed bits of what seemed like eggs and a cup of applesauce in his highchair, and getting help with brushing his teeth and combing his hair (which was to say the grown-ups did it for him).

After that, all there was left to do was play while the daytime-only children arrived before Morning Meeting. Shiro was meant to come get him before then, but Keith didn’t exactly have a strong grip on telling time right then. He trusted that the grown-ups would get him to wherever he was supposed to be, whenever he was supposed to be there. He loved daycare—everything was just so simple here.

Keith was once again playing quietly by himself this morning, surrounded by soft toy blocks and Mr. Po—who hadn’t left his side since yesterday afternoon—sat nearby to watch him. Keith had only been stacking—and occasionally chewing on—the blocks for about fifteen minutes before a very familiar figure finally came through the door.

It was only as Shiro walked in the room that Keith even remembered he existed—and how much he was suddenly excited to see him again. The little boy wiggled and squealed in excitement, trying his best to stand up and run to him but unable to even make it to his own two feet. Instead, Keith sat and bounced impatiently on his soft, padded bottom, arms greedily reaching out for his caregiver and babbling excitedly all the while.

When Shiro spotted his baby playing on the floor, his heart squeezed at the sight of him—he’d never seen Keith so little. The sight of him alone was immediately telling. Even from the other side of the room, Shiro could see the bright, dopey smile that lit up Keith’s face, one side of which was completely coated in drool as his pacifier hung loosely from the clip on his shortalls. More telling than that, however, was the way Keith was so clearly excited to see him, but wasn’t big enough to get up and run to Shiro on his own, instead reaching out with desperate grabby hands. But perhaps the most telling thing of all was the thick, patterned diaper peeking out from the legs of Keith’s overalls. Truly, he’d had no hope of getting to wear his big boy underwear today.

Shiro nearly melted from the cuteness. More than that, though, he was overjoyed that Keith had been comfortable enough here to regress as deeply as he had—more than Shiro had ever seen from him before. His little one just seemed so happy. It was everything Shiro had wanted for him—and hopefully it was everything Keith had wanted too.

“Hi, pumpkin!” Shiro cooed at him, immediately picking Keith up into his arms. Even just holding him, the diaper underneath his overalls was obvious, and Shiro couldn’t stop himself from giving his baby’s bottom a few comforting pats. He also couldn’t stop the way his voice pitched so much higher, unable to resist baby-talking his very, very little boy. “How are you doing? Did you have lots of fun yesterday?”

“Bah!” Keith exclaimed happily, shoving one hand into his mouth now that he’d finally been picked up.

“Yeah? I bet!” Shiro indulged him.

The baby wiggled in Shiro’s hold, one hand gripping tightly onto the front of his T-shirt. It was then that the older man noticed Miss Ira approaching them.

“I see you’ve found your little one already.” She greeted kindly.

“Sure have,” Shiro replied, then, turning to Keith, “Isn’t that right, cutie?” He asked as Keith continued sucking on his fingers. The older man gave him a quick peck on the temple before prying Keith’s hand away from his mouth and replacing it with his binky.

“Was he okay yesterday?” Shiro had to ask, “He seems pretty happy, but I’ve never seen him this small before.”

Miss Ira hummed thoughtfully. “Well, I have to admit I think we had a bit of a rough start to the morning. I want to talk to you about that, by the way—"

Shiro’s eyebrows furrowed in concern, rubbing Keith’s back in slow circles, as if to comfort him after the fact.

“—but after he seemed to get a little younger, he was all smiles for the rest of the day. He was just an angel, really.”

“What happened?” Shiro asked immediately, wondering if Keith had had some separation anxiety after he’d been dropped off, or if he’d misbehaved, or if someone had been mean to him, or if it was maybe something even he couldn’t guess.

“It seems he had a bit of a spat with another one of our students when she took his stuffed animal.” Miss Ira looked down at Mr. Po, who was still sitting on the floor by the blocks. “Keith pushed her to the ground.”

“Oh, bud,” Shiro said to Keith, sounding disappointed even though he knew Keith was too young  for any kind of scolding or admonishment to be effective. “You know better than that.” He turned to the teacher, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright.” She told him. “That’s not what I wanted to talk to you about, though.”

“Oh?” Shiro questioned. “What is it, then?”

“I’m more concerned about how he reacted when he was being disciplined.”

Immediately, Shiro understood where this was going.

“After we intervened, we put both Keith and the other student in time-out. I’m used to children sometimes crying very loudly when they’re being disciplined in such a way—sometimes they just want attention, sometimes they’re truly upset—though normally they tend to wear themselves out after a little while and stop. However, the way Keith reacted to being punished I found to be both rather extreme and unconventional. It alarmed me, to be honest.”

Extreme, Shiro understood very well. Disciplining Keith had always been a challenge, both because it hurt Shiro’s heart to see him so distressed, and because any small punishment the older man could think of to give Keith always terrified him disproportionately to the crime.

Unconventional was a new one, though.

“He’s always had a lot of trouble with getting punished. He’s had some not-so-nice experiences with other authority figures in the past. We’ve been trying to work on it, though.” Shiro tried to explain. “What did he do, exactly?”

“Were you aware of his self-harming behavior?” Miss Ira asked.

Shiro’s eyes went wide. “Self-harm? No—I’ve definitely seen him get overly upset before, but I’ve never seen him hurt himself.” Surprise colored his words, looking at his baby who was completely unaware and uncaring of what the grown-ups were talking about. Keith only suckled calmly on his pacifier. “What did he do?”

“Well, once his crying reached a peak, he began to pull very roughly on his hair and hit himself on the head. That was when I decided to intervene.” Miss Ira explained.

Shiro looked down at Keith, his heart heavy with sorrow for his baby. “Oh, sweetheart. You’re okay, there’s no need to do that. Oh, baby.” He crooned sadly, starting to bounce Keith on his hip like he could comfort his little boy now, so long after the fact. “I’m so sorry.” He told Keith, still so unnoticing of what was going on. Shiro gave him a heap of kisses, and it soothed his heart a little to hear his baby giggle then.

“However, I was also surprised when after I let him out of time-out, he remained in the thinking chair. He told me that he thought I hadn’t ‘put him in time-out long enough’ and that he was concerned that he was bad.”

That was also new to Shiro, though he couldn’t say he was surprised. “Yeah, that’s something else I’ve been trying to work on with him. He has a hard time understanding when he’s so young that misbehaving doesn’t make him a bad person, just that he has to think a little more about what he’s doing. It can be a little slow going, though. It’s tough, with him, sometimes. He’s also had some bad experiences with that in the past.”

Miss Ira nodded in understanding. “I see. If you don’t mind me suggesting, I have the phone number for a child psychologist who I think might really be able to help Keith, if you’d like. She’s incredibly patient with the little ones, and I’ve seen her make great improvements with some of my students in the past.”

Shiro nearly breathed a sigh of relief. He wasn’t sure how Keith would feel about it, but honestly, this was probably the exact kind of thing his little boy needed.

“That would be great, actually.” Shiro told her, still steadily bouncing Keith and giving him a few squeezes for good measure. It hurt to hear he was still struggling, even if the older man wasn’t surprised.

“Wonderful. I’ll get that to you right away.” Miss Ira paused as she opened a folder. “On a brighter note, however, I have lots of things from yesterday that I’m sure Keith would love to show you!”

The teacher sank down to the floor to spread out all the papers she had in the folder with Keith’s name on it. Shiro set his baby on the ground and sat down next to him to have a look.

The first thing Miss Ira did was hand Shiro the envelope with his name on it.

Before Keith could get too distracted by the toys he’d been playing with earlier, Shiro pulled the baby into his lap so they could look at it together. Shiro carefully opened the envelope.

On the front were a letters Shiro couldn’t read—he probably had about as much knowledge of how to read Galran as Keith did, at least before he’d gone to preschool. He gasped in mock amazement at the very cute crayon drawing of he and Keith holding hands in the center.

“Oh my goodness!” He said, pointing at the drawing to get the baby’s attention. “Did my cutie draw this?” He asked playfully. Keith laughed in his lap and clapped his hands.

“Who’s this?” Shiro asked, pointing to the little stick figure that was obviously Keith. “Is that you?”

Keith pointed at the picture he’d drawn of himself too and happily chirped “Kee!”

“Yeah, that’s you!” Shiro praised, heart nearly bursting at how adorable Keith was trying to pronounce his own name. “And who’s this?” Shiro pointed to himself.

Keith pointed again, too. “Buh!” He said loudly, practically squealing. “Buh! Bubba!”

Shiro froze.

“Bubba!” Keith shouted again.

Shiro thought his heart might completely combust. He could hardly contain the love he felt for his baby, right in that moment.

“Is that me?” Shiro asked, “Am I Bubba?”

“Bubba! Bubba!” Keith exclaimed, kicking his legs happily and throwing his head back in peals of laughter when Shiro tickled his sides. At least with Keith sitting in his lap, he couldn’t see the wetness in Shiro’s eyes. Why did he feel so honored to be given a silly nickname?

The older man opened the card and admired the other drawings even though he couldn’t understand the writing.

“Would you like me to read it for you?” Miss Ira asked, knowing Keith wouldn’t be able too.

“Yeah. Please.” Shiro politely handed over the card, wiping his eyes a little.

“It says…” Miss Ira chuckled a little at the overlooked grammar mistake that she realized pervaded the entire card. It was actually rather cute. “It says ‘My Shiro is nice and my Shiro is brave. My Shiro is good at hugs and my Shiro is good at playing with me. I love my Shiro because he always protects me. Love, Keith.”

Already the waterworks were starting up in Shiro’s eyes again. He felt like a mess.

“God, sorry,” he apologized, wiping his eyes again. “That’s so cute. God. Did you write that for me sweetheart?” He squeezed Keith and the baby giggled again. Shiro sniffled away the tear that wanted to escape. “You’re so darn cute. What am I gonna do with you, huh?”

He carefully slid the letter back in the envelope and put it back in Keith’s folder. He looked at the other papers inside, admiring Keith’s very messy scribbles across numerous pieces of paper and acting genuinely impressed at each one.

“I think we’ve got a little artist on our hands, here.” Shiro teased.

And the last thing in the folder that he saw was the photograph of Keith and Tavri by their sandcastle. Both children were grinning the same way most little kids do—showing all their teeth because that’s what smiles were supposed to be, right? Without having actually mastered the art of smiling on command. It was extremely endearing and far cuter than it had a right to be. Shiro was gonna lose it.

“Don’t worry,” Shiro whispered conspiratorially in Keith’s ear, “I’ll never let Lance see this,” knowing the other boy would tease Keith about it for weeks if he ever got his hands on it. Shiro couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him.

Lastly, he got to meet Tavri, who wanted to say goodbye to Keith before he left. Keith waved a clumsy goodbye to her. Shiro thought she was very sweet, and he thanked her for being Keith’s friend. Shiro found her politeness endearing and assured her Keith would come back and visit soon. Shiro doubted he’d be able to stop Keith if he tried.

Before they exited the room with all Keith’s things, including Mr. Po, Shiro said, “Say bye-bye, Keith,” to all his teachers and new friends. Keith was still a little too young to follow instructions, but that was okay. Shiro picked up his limp hand and waved goodbye for him, before walking down the corridor and back to the pod he’d dropped Keith off in.

Now the only question was—how would he bring Keith back up before they got to the castle?

Shiro gulped.