Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

All newly enlisted students took a placement test on the first day of the academic year at the Galaxy Garrison. On the year everything changed, someone broke a flight record that had stood for seven years. That same cadet stepped out of the simulator, was accused of cheating by a fellow new cadet, and promptly broke his nose to match the record.

“You’re taking this on?”

“Someone needs to give the kid a chance. She’s brilliant,” she clenched her fists under the table. “And no one’s given her one before. I saw her when I was recruiting. We’re not getting a better potential pilot anywhere.” 

“Girl’s got a record that’d make a construction hiring manager blush. At fourteen. You’ve got a bright future ahead of you, Shirogane. Don’t throw it away on her.” In the photo on file, a young girl glared up at her from the table. “You can’t save everyone.”

Tomoe Shirogane’s jaw clenched. “Yes, sir.” 

Dark eyes glowered from the simulator. “There. Need me to do it again ?” The stunned silence of the operations room broke. No last name on file, no family, nothing other than a laundry list of behavioral issues on file. But the record had been broken. And broken again. Tomoe stared down at her wrists, at the electrostimulator bracelets, and wondered. How long do I have? Was it ever like this for me? She swallowed, choking down the guilt at her jealousy. The whispers from the room were familiar. It was like this for me .

“She’s a bitch, but she sure can fly.” Tomoe felt her teeth gritting against each other, the base of her molars shifting in her gums. “Not bad to look at either.” Tomoe whirled around.

“She’s fourteen, Senior Cadet Jones. Watch your tone.” Jones’ face held no remorse, but his watery blue eyes wouldn’t meet hers.

“Ah lighten up, Shirogane. We’ve all got eyes.” Her old flight instructor Danvers draped an arm across her shoulders. Tomoe wanted to slap it off. Tomoe wanted to shake them all. Because the girl in the simulator was a bird. Skinny wrists and legs and dark, dark eyes too big for her skull and a mop of black hair to hide it all. All sharp angles and bones and she hadn’t smiled once. How do you have eyes and not see that? How do you have eyes that can’t see it? “The bitch is your problem now, we get it, but that doesn’t mean you need to mother her. She’ll toughen up better that way.” 

“I think she’s too tough, actually. Soften up, wontcha?” One of the older flight instructors hollered over. Tomoe couldn’t remember his name. “See if there’s a girl under all that bite!”

“Doesn’t even have a girl's name, does she? Don’t give Shirogane an impossible task” The room laughed. Tomoe scanned around until her eyes landed on Sergeant Miller. The only other woman. Miller’s lips were pressed together, vanishingly thin. But she didn’t say anything. Tomoe stared down at the floor. So this was how it was.

The girl stepped out of the simulator, pale, thin, eyes fixed on the ground in front of her. “Can I go?” 

“Come on now firstie. Give us a little fun!” Someone hollered. The girl’s head snapped up, hands curling into fists at her side. 

“Cadet, you can go.” Sergeant Miller finally spoke up. “Remember to meet with your mentor, the details will be loaded to your schedule soon.” The girl snapped a salute and practically bolted out of the room. The men jeered, laughed, talked amongst themselves, leaving Tomoe out of their circle as ever. Tomoe stared at the door and jumped when Sargeant Miller put a hand on her shoulder. “You can’t protect her from everything. Get used to it.” Tomoe turned to look at the woman. Blonde hair in a bun, not a strand out of place. Lines etched below her eyes, years of missed sleep carving their way into her gaze. 

“Sir–”

“She’ll get used to it, or she’ll leave. You stayed.” Miller shrugged. Her voice dropped “There’s no changing the rest of them. She’ll learn that sooner or later, same as we all do. Sooner is kinder.” Tomoe felt something in her throat.

“This your stray?” Adam leaned over her, chest pressing against the back of her head and shoulders. She leaned back, reaching up to pluck his glasses from his nose. “Rude. I need to see.” She smiled. 

“No, you don’t.” She toyed with them as Adam picked up the data pad, kissing her on the cheek. He dropped to sit next to her at the table, squinting at the words.

“Who names their girl Keith?” He tapped at the tablet, scrolling through page after page of the file. “Well I guess I’d be a problem case too if they named me that.” Tomoe felt something in her stomach twist. 

“I don’t think that’s why–”

“Tomoe, I know.” Adam put the data pad down, taking his glasses from her hands and trapping her hands between his. He massaged her palms with his fingers. “I know. You want to help her. That’s why I love you. You want to help everyone.” Adam took a deep breath. Tomoe could feel him gearing up to say something she wouldn’t like. “You need to let me help you. You can’t do everything.” She stood up, pulling her hands from his. 

“Adam, I’m not dying. I can do what I want.” Adam reached out to her again, grabbing her right hand. 

“I love you.” He repeated.

“I love you too.” She mumbled. She wondered when that had started to feel like a wish rather than a fact. I want to believe in this, Adam . “I just wish you would trust me when I say I can handle it.”

“You don’t have to take on so much. You need rest. We have time.” Adam tried to pull her back. Tomoe felt her stomach churn.

“You have time. I have to use the small amount of it I have left. I have to do something good. I can’t wait around.” She pulled her hand out of his grasp. He pursed his lips, staring down at the floor. She sighed. “I’m sorry.” I’m not.

“It’s okay.” Is it?

“Don’t touch me.” 

“I won’t. I never will, if you don’t want me to.” 

“Oh.” They sat in silence, the empty study room air dry and cool. “Thanks.”

“I’m Tomoe Shirogane. My friends call me Shiro.” She smiled, not sticking her hand out for a handshake. Both of her hands were flat on the table. You can see them. You know where they are. I won’t do anything to you.

“I’m Kei.” Dark eyes finally looked up from the table, and met Tomoe’s, the challenge plain as day. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Kei.” Kei frowned.

“We’ve met.”

“Never formally, not really.” 

“I stole your car.”

“I’ll admit it was a strong first impression but I don’t think we were ever truly introduced during that adventure.” Kei stared back at her, face unchanging. Tomoe smiled even wider. “I don’t even think we introduced ourselves when you broke my record a second time in the simulators.” And oh. There’s a reaction. Kei’s face twisted, red and nervous. Eyes dropped back to the table. To Tomoe’s hands. 

“Is that why they stuck you with me,” she muttered. 

“I asked for you.” Tomoe let her smile drop for a moment. “No one forced me to be here. I wanted to.” 

Kei met her gaze again, piercing eyes unblinking. Tomoe felt exposed. She was the one to look down this time. “Why?” Kei asked.

“Because everyone needs someone to believe in them.” Tomoe shrugged, avoiding Kei’s eyes. “I believe in you.” She let her eyes come back to meet Kei’s. Oh. She’s surprised. Kei’s mouth had opened, just a bit. When Tomoe smiled, Kei snapped it closed and gulped. 

“Sorry I stole your car.” She stuck her hand out. “It’s nice to meet you, Shiro.” Her face was red when Tomoe took her hand to shake it. 

Almost perfect. Almost. Almost was the story of Tomoe’s life. Almost the perfect daughter, until she’d decided she wanted to waste all her parents’ medical expenses on becoming an astronaut. Almost the perfect soldier, until they learned her muscles were deteriorating. Almost the perfect girlfriend, until she wanted to push too far. Almost a record breaker, until a tiny girl with eyes too big and a frame too small shoved her way to the top. 

Bone deep desperation pushed beyond aching muscles. Adam had asked her if it hurt very much. She’d smiled at him then, kissed his nose, told him “Not with you,” as her back throbbed when she shifted to kiss him on the mouth. Adam had smiled into their kiss, running his hands down her back. It burned. She let it burn. 

Sex hurt. It usually did, but this time it hurt more. She didn’t say anything. She wanted this to work. Adam was kind. Adam loved her. And if she couldn’t come, if she couldn’t love it, it was her disease. It had to be. She closed her eyes, mouthing over his collarbone, running her hands through his hair. She wished he was something else. She couldn’t quite figure out what. When Adam came, she faked an orgasm, letting her thighs shake a bit. He slumped down, worn out, and she sat next to him lying on the bed. Took in the curve of his nose on the pillow, the way he curled in toward her, the color of his skin and hair. She stroked his shoulder as he shifted in his doze, letting out a pleased noise. 

She loved him. She did. She gulped, and got up to go to the bathroom. She showered, letting it all wash off of her. I love him. I do . She scrubbed, and scrubbed, and scrubbed. Her thighs didn’t feel clean. Her eyes stung. She hadn’t gotten soap in them. Okay. What is wrong with me?

She went to lie with Adam in bed, body aching everywhere, guilt in every joint to fill her out. She was wearing pajamas. He wasn’t. She slept and her dreams were shaped all wrong, a form that felt too feminine pressed up against her, kissed her. It felt. She felt. Tomoe jolted awake, guilt pressing where the pain had receded. Why didn't it hurt? She sat up, curling her knees to her chest, looking down at her boyfriend. He stirred, waking slowly. His eyes fluttered open, she watched his eyelashes unstick themselves, the crust from sleep clinging to the inner corner of his eyes.

“Morning, beautiful.” She looked away. 

“Morning, Adam.” He pressed a kiss to the side of her thigh from his place on the bed. She smiled at him, wiping away a stray crust from his cheek. “Sorry to run out on you, I have a meeting.” She got up, dressed herself. She felt Adam’s gaze linger on her body and wondered when it started to feel painful instead of desirable. 

I almost made this work . She swallowed hard. She’d make it work. She could do it. Adam was a good man. A good friend before it had all started. She could make it work. She would make it work. She just wished she could believe herself. She went back to the bathroom, staring at herself in the mirror as she brushed her hair, slicking it back into a military-approved bun. Was she desirable? Was she beautiful? Too tall, too muscular, too much in the wrong places. Her mother had hated the muscle, hated her thighs, her arms, her neck. Her father would tell her to cover up if she wore something low cut, that his daughter wouldn’t be seen like that. Stubborn baby hairs refused to lie flat in her bun. She pressed her lips together. There was no helping it, was there?

Almost perfect. Almost a woman, almost a real girl. The military was no place for a real girl. Space was no place for a real girl either. Almost could work. Tomoe walked off, uniform pristine, posture ramrod straight no matter what. I can do this. I will get there. I have to.

The first time Tomoe had flown a simulator, she’d crashed almost immediately from the jolt through her muscles. The second time she’d flown a simulator, she broke a record. She’d learned then and there that she hadn’t been living. Flying was living. I need to get out there . It was like finally breathing outside air after being trapped underground.

The secret was that she let her gaze wander up and down Second Lieutenant Ramos. Ramos was new, she had transferred from another Galaxy Garrison base. Ramos kept her dark hair perfectly slicked back, braided, tucked neatly into a bun. They’d asked Tomoe to give her a tour, and she’d saluted but felt her stomach twisting itself into knots. Ramos had smiled, eyes creasing at the corners. 

“You can call me Claudia.” Tomoe couldn’t call her anything. Tomoe couldn’t breathe. 

“I– You can call me Shiro,” she stuttered. Claudia Ramos tilted her head. Tomoe was sure her entire face was red. 

“Shiro? That’s an interesting name.” Tomoe wanted the earth to open and swallow her whole. “So. What do you guys do for fun around here?” Me. Tomoe couldn’t keep her head on straight. What is wrong with me today? I can’t be–

“Uh. There’s Plaht City, it’s a few miles off-base but a lot of the officers will go out there in a crew on the weekends.” Her face was burning. 

“Do you go often?” Tomoe wished Claudia Ramos would never ask her a question about herself again. 

“I– uh. No. I tend to stay in with my boyfriend.” She looked down at the tiles on the floor. “We’re not really a going-out pair.” She almost jumped out of her skin when Claudia Ramos squeezed her shoulder, smiling.

“We should go out someday. The two of us, maybe a few of the other female officers here. Girls night.” Tomoe felt heat rushing through her body. “I’ll keep you posted.” 

And if she let her hand slip between her legs later that night in the shower at the thought? And if she thought about the curls on the nape of Claudia Ramos’ neck? Guilt clawed at her insides, ran its nails up and down her spine. She shivered, letting one hand wander to her chest. Would Claudia kiss her? Would Claudia think she was wrong for this? It’s so wrong. She’s your coworker . But thinking of Claudia pulling her aside to a forgotten classroom only made it worse. Pressed up against a wall, against a desk, perfect hair disheveled and loose. She came with a shudder, guilt coaxing her through it, touching her there, there, there.

She crawled into bed next to Adam, curled against him. Dreamed of Claudia Ramos and her smile, teasing from between her legs. 

Tomoe ran through the Garrison halls, usual decorum all but forgotten. She rapped on the door of Iverson’s office, face flushed. “Sir!” She saluted. Iverson looked her up and down, and let her in. 

“She broke Cadet Griffin’s jaw.” Iverson looked her dead in the eye. Tomoe gulped. “This is her second broken nose in less than a year here. Get her to shape up, now , or she’s gone.” She exhaled. Thank you, Iverson . 

“Thank you, sir.” 

“Just send me back.” Kei slouched on a chair in their study room, arms crossed, a large bruise purpling under her left eye. “You can’t fix me.” Her hair looked longer than it had before, still untameable. 

“I don’t want to fix you!” Tomoe snapped. Kei’s head shot up, face red. “Sorry. I just. Sorry.” Tomoe sighed. “Kei. I believe in you. I’m not sending you anywhere. I will never give up on you.” Are her eyes purple? Kei was staring up at her with an intensity Tomoe wasn’t sure she could match. Oh what the hell . Tomoe crouched down to Kei’s level, putting a hand on her shoulder. Kei stared at her hand. Suddenly, Tomoe felt embarrassed. “Don’t touch me,” rang in her ears. But when she moved her hand to lift it, Kei settled into the touch. Tomoe took a deep breath and opened her mouth again. “More importantly, you can’t give up on yourself.” 

Kei’s chin trembled for a moment. And she launched herself at Tomoe, all awkward limbs and bones digging in everywhere. “Thank you,” the girl mumbled into her shoulder. Tomoe felt a wet patch in her shoulder and decided it would be best to say nothing about it.

“The ‘Th’ is from my middle name,” the girl mumbled, pulling back, eyes red. “The social worker just put it on the end because the rest of my birth certificate was destroyed anyway. So it’s Kei ‘Th’ but I don’t even remember what it was for.” She pressed the heels of her palms into her eyes. “It doesn’t matter anyway. Everyone calls me Keith.” Tomoe stayed there, floored. “‘S’fine. Makes them forget I’m a girl, s’all easier then.” Kei took a long shuddering breath. “You can still call me Kei if you want. It’s just Keith to everyone else.” 

“Thank you, Kei.” Tomoe felt her hand twitch. She wanted to give the girl another hug. Kei shrugged. She ran her hands through unruly black hair. Had Tomoe not felt the wet patch on her shoulder still, she wouldn’t have ever guessed Kei had cried. “Can I ask you a favor?” Kei tensed. 

“ What ,” she snapped. Tomoe startled. She didn’t know what she’d said.

“If anyone picks a fight with you, let me know before fighting back.” Tomoe said, eyeing the tension in Kei’s jaw. She watched Kei’s shoulders drop slowly. “I’ll always be on your side. Don’t hit first. Not everyone else here is on your side.” Kei scowled.

“I know that. I’m not going to play nice because of that though.” 

“Don’t. Just don’t start the physical part of fights anymore. You’re small, but you’ve broken too many bones here for people to think you’re weak.” Tomoe grinned as she saw the corners of Kei’s mouth uncurl, shoulders down at last. “I’ll teach you how to fight if you promise you won’t start one.” 

“That sounds more like you doing me a favor.” Kei fiddled with some of the ends of her hair. “I can’t pay you back for that.” 

“You don’t need to pay me back for anything. We’re friends.” 

“You’re going to want to watch this one,” Tomoe heard Adam whisper to Claudia Ramos. She felt like canvas stretched across a brittle frame. Claudia had taken to shadowing her, and Tomoe didn’t remember when exactly she and Adam had met. Seeing them together made her gut twist itself up in knots, a dizzying rush to the head. “That’s Tomoe’s stray.” 

Claudia turned to her, a beautiful, bemused smile on her face. “Stray?” Adam laughed. 

“She broke some kid’s bone, they were going to kick her out but Tomoe was sure she could make something of her.” Adam put his arm around her waist, rubbing back and forth against her side with his thumb. “She saw the talent and decided it was worth it.” He sounded amused. Tomoe tried very hard not to feel patronized. She stared over at the screens showing the simulator, where Kei sat, glowering, as she was briefed on the mission to come.

She almost jumped when she felt Claudia’s hand on her shoulder. Too much touch. “ Don’t touch me ,” Kei’s voice echoed in her mind. But she wanted to chase Claudia’s touch. “That’s a very noble thing to do, Shiro.” Tomoe felt her face flush. It was selfish. I just. I wanted something to– Kei took flight. 

Tomoe remembered one of her old flight instructors saying Shirogane flies like she has a right to it . She’d cherished that. Cherished it until that instructor had– no matter. Kei didn’t fly like that. Kei flew like she needed to. Kei flew like she’d die if she didn’t. She heard Claudia gasp, saw Adam tense out of the corner of her eye. She couldn’t stop herself from smiling. Atta girl . Kei threw the simulated plane around, letting it come right to the ragged edge of crashing. 

A full second shaved off another record. Claudia let out a long, low whistle. “You picked a good one there, didn’t you,” and patted Tomoe on the shoulder again. Adam pulled her toward him by the waist.

Tomoe kept her eyes on the screen. In the simulator, Kei was smiling for the first time. 

“This woman is sick.”

“It’s her on my team or I walk.”

“You have a wife, Commander Holt. You have greater concerns than making sure a beautiful woman is your pilot”

“How dare you. She could be the ugliest woman in the world for all I care. She’s the best pilot we have available. It's a small scale mission. We need the best of everyone available. You let me bring my son on for that reason. She pilots. Or I walk and my son does too.”

Kei disappeared for three days when her first term ended. Students were supposed to be released to their families. Somehow, she’d slipped through the cracks. Three days after everyone assumed the students were all home on their two week break if they weren’t confirmed a spot at the Garrison, a social worker came to look for her. 

“Keith? She doesn’t have a last name? She was never sent back to us!” Tomoe walked into Iverson’s office when called, and sat there, flabbergasted. She didn’t even know why Iverson called her in.

“Ma’am.” Iverson took a deep breath. “The children were released three days ago. You were supposed to send someone to pick her up. These details were in the information packet given to guardians.” 

“I’m not her guardian. She’s a ward of the state!” The social worker’s face was red, sweat beading at her hairline and above her upper lip. Tomoe sat there, stomach churning. She hadn’t seen Kei after finals, being so busy grading. The last time she’d seen Kei was from a distance, at one of the underclassmen parties all the officers pretended not to know about but kept a wary eye on. Kei had been off in a corner, but Tomoe was relieved, she’d been close to another girl instead of all alone as usual. 

Had she missed something? Could she have let this happen somehow? She startled as Iverson spoke her name. “This is Junior Officer Shirogane. She’s Keith’s mentor. We can have her help you to find her. We want her back as much as you do. And in the future, just let us know you need her on the list of students approved to stay for breaks.” Tomoe turned to meet Iverson’s eyes. He stared back, and nodded sharply. 

“I’d be more than happy to help,” Tomoe tried to smile at the social worker, but she found she couldn’t. She pressed her lips together. “Let’s start looking.” 

She ditched the social worker in Plaht City, the woman giving up and going back to her office, making vague mention of meeting with Tomoe tomorrow, claiming “This is common for that girl. Always running. Always causing trouble. I’m so sorry to have shoved her on you Garrison folks. ” Tomoe felt rage, felt it grab her throat and choke her. I’ll find you Kei. I’ll bring you home. But it had been hours of walking, and nothing. She got paged. 

“ Junior Officer Shirogane, return to base if cadet not found” Her teeth ground together. She turned on her heel and picked up her hoverbike. I need to clear my head. I need to fly . She felt it deep in her bones, the night sky gaping down at her, the stars clearer the deeper she drove into the desert. It would swallow her, she hoped. She drove, and drove and drove and a cliff’s edge hurtled towards her and she looked down and she looked up at the stars, pulled her bike back, turned to face the cliff.

She dove.

She whooped for joy, voice echoing in the desert rocks, bouncing off of nooks and crannies. The stars laughed with her. There was no moon, the sky stretched, pulling her out further with no desire to return her. She felt her eyes sting a bit, a smile etched onto her face permanently. It felt out of control, something in her came unstuck. 

She wondered if Kei would see the stars like this. If she saw them like hands, reaching out, promising escape and forever and a way out. For once, nothing hurt at all.

She let herself aimlessly wander the desert. They’d have her head for staying out so late. But she couldn’t bring herself to go back. Darting back and forth, she let the stars take her out further than she’d ever been.

There was light there. Light, and smoke, and a small shack tucked away near cliffs she’d never seen before. She cut the engine to her bike, approaching quietly. 

“Shiro?” 

“Kei?”

Dawn breathed, blowing the stars out, dusky grays giving way to piercing reds. “My pop and I lived here.” Kei stared out at the sunrise, sitting on a cliff above the shack, legs dangling over the edge. Tomoe crouched next to her. 

“Was that what made you want to go up there,” she asked. Kei’s eyes turned toward her, violet in the red sunlight, burning right through Tomoe.

“No.”

Kerberos. They wanted her to pilot the mission going to Kerberos. In two years. Tomoe felt herself shake. I have to do this. I have to . Her body could last until then. It could last through the mission. She stared up at the stars from her window. Yours. It’s yours .

Nothing was hers. But Kerberos could be. They want me. I can clear the physical. The only signs are genetic or only detectable using an MRI. I have to do this. I have to. Sam Holt, officially requesting her. It had to be hers. She clutched her data pad to her chest, sitting at her kitchen table, cup of coffee abandoned entirely. 

“What’s eating you, baby?” Adam dropped a kiss on the crown of her head. She jolted, turning the data pad off as quickly as she could. 

“Nothing. Just early and I didn’t sleep too well,” she turned to smile at him, hoping he wouldn’t see fear lining her eyes. 

“You should take the day off then. They work you too hard,” Adam rubbed her shoulders, pushing them down. Tomoe resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “You need to stay healthy, they know that.”

“I’m fine, Adam. It’s not like anything’s even started yet besides occasional pain. We have my progression projected for the next twenty years . I’m fine. I’ll die later.” She snapped, getting up. Adam looked stricken, eyes downcast. 

“I just–”

“I’m sorry. I’m just tired. I need to go teach my class now.” She closed her eyes for a second, dark red light pushing through her eyelids. “I’m sorry.” I’m sorry I don’t know how to tell you I’ll be gone for some of my good years. 

The doctors at the Kerberos physical told her nothing she didn’t already know. The first of the pains had started when she was a child. It was a full year before her parents believed her about it. A bevy of tests, four years of seeking a diagnosis at all, and seven medical trials later, she knew when she was supposed to die. She knew when she was supposed to start deteriorating, both with and without her medical aids. It was so good that modern medical technology would give you a few more years . 

“We can approve you for this mission. You’re lucky about the mission return cutoffs, otherwise they might have cut you as a candidate,” the primary physician was young, for a physician. She couldn’t be older than 40. Tomoe was supposed to die in her forties. “One last ride?” She smiled at Tomoe. Tomoe felt nauseous. 

“One last ride.” Let me die up there. I can’t come back here . 

“You’re going to Kerberos, right?” Matter of fact. Kei was unwrapping her hands, a fresh bruise on her shin to match the one she gave Tomoe on the stomach. Tomoe almost choked on her water. Thank the stars the locker room was empty besides the two of them. “I know you’re not supposed to say yet but I know the preliminary pilot selection already came out.” 

“Well–”

“If you’re not going they’re stupid.” Kei shrugged, face unchanging. “So are you going or are they dumb?” 

“I’m going.” She whispered. The corners of Kei’s lips lifted. 

“Good.” 

“Good?” She doesn’t know. She hasn’t heard yet. And the guilt pressed down on the bruise on her stomach, shoving against her organs.

“You’re the best pilot. And you want it. It should be yours.” Kei dumped her wraps into her gym bag, not bothering to roll them up. Kei suddenly looked very red. “I’ll miss you.” 

“We still have two years until then. And then I’ll be back for good–” Tomoe choked it down. Suddenly, swallowing hurt.

“For good? You’ll have other missions too when you’re done with re-acclimatizing to Earth gravity.” Kei’s voice sounded tense.

“No, Kei I–” Tomoe felt her eyes stinging. “I have a disease.” Kei tilted her head to the side, frowning. “I only have so long and then. And then my muscles will start to go and–” She hated crying. She let out a deep shuddering breath, rubbing at her eyes. “Sorry I know you hate when people cry and I–”

“You’re not people,” Kei clapped a hand over her mouth the instant the words pushed their way outt, face redder than Tomoe had ever seen it. “I uh. Sorry I didn’t mean that. I mean I did but I didn’t mean it like that–” Tomoe laughed. 

“I’m flattered,” She sniffed. “Sorry.”

“Stop apologizing.” Kei snapped. “It’s not like I’m the one–” she cut herself off again.

“Not the one dying?” Tomoe laughed even harder. Kei looked very red and very lost and just her face set Tomoe off into another fit of giggles. Kei’s brow furrowed, lips pursed together, the picture of confusion. Like an alien studying a human being. First contact! Her stomach hurt from laughing. She let it die down to a few chuckles, wiping at her eyes. Kei held out a tissue, eyes wide. “Sorry Kei, you took it better than most people.”

“You’ll keep piloting. I know it.” Kei’s jaw took on that stubborn set, and Tomoe’s heart broke knowing she couldn’t change it. 

“Oh, Kei . Unless some medical miracle happen–”

“So don’t give up until then!” Kei blinked furiously and Tomoe felt herself flaking away. “You promised me you’d never give up on me.” She squeezed her eyes shut, curling in on herself, and Tomoe wanted to scoop her up and hug her and promise her the world. Oh Kei, kid, I’m so sorry. 

“I never will. This has always been me. That will never change.” Tomoe tried to smile at Kei, wobbly and cracking. 

“ That’s not the point! ” Kei’s voice cracked. “How can you tell me to never give up on myself when you did?” Tomoe had never seen Kei cry before. 

“Kei I’m–”

“If you say you’re sorry I’m going to punch you” Kei choked out. “Don’t apologize. You don’t get to give up if I don’t.” Tomoe huffed out a laugh. She couldn’t stop herself from hugging Kei. Kei clutched at her shoulders, shaking. “You’re coming back. We’re flying together.” Easy as the sky is blue. Let me have this. I want to believe in this. 

“We’ll fly together.” Just this once. I want it. 

“Do you think she’s sleeping with Holt?”

“I bet she’s sleeping with someone . No shot someone that young gets the mission otherwise.”

“I heard she slept with Sanda to keep cheating on the simulators.”

“She does seem dykeish.” 

“Sort her out. I’m not punishing this one.” Had Tomoe been a worse soldier, her jaw would’ve dropped. What did she do?

“Sir?” 

“This isn’t favoritism. The officers should know better. Sort her out, I don’t want to know.” 

“Do you want to tell me what happened? Iverson wouldn’t.” Kei groaned, dropping her data pad on the study room table and slouching in her seat.

“He said I wasn’t in trouble. Does it matter?” She looked up at Tomoe, pleading. But she had a black eye and bruise on her jaw and Tomoe couldn’t just let that lie.

“You’re not in trouble. But it matters to me.”

“They were saying things.” Kei couldn’t even hide her pained wince from clenching her teeth. 

“What?” Tomoe felt it come out harsher than she intended. She tried again. “Kei, I don’t want you to get hurt.” Wrong words again.

“I’m fine .” Kei scowled, crossing her arms. “Can I go?” One step forward, two steps back.

“When were you going to tell me?” She froze in the doorway of their apartment. Fuck . It had been a week. One glorious week of hope without having to tell him. 

“Adam, I meant to. I just got caught up and–”

“Tomoe. You can’t be serious. You can’t seriously be thinking about going. These are your last few years and you’re going to go wa–”

“ Waste them?” She slammed the door shut behind her, “It’s my life, Adam. I’ll waste it how I please.”

“We have a life together .” Adam shrank. “I love you, Tomoe.” 

“You don’t. You don’t love me. I can’t live if I don’t get out there. I can’t stay here, Adam. I can’t just waste all my life away.”

“I didn’t think we were a waste.” Adam looked down at the floor. 

“Well. I didn’t think going out there was a waste either.” She didn’t look away from him. “I’m sorry. I can’t stay.”

“I can’t either.” And that was that. 

“Kei, you can’t get mad when they say those things about me. They’ll start to say them about you too.” They stared out at the sunset, waiting for the stars to come carry them away again.

“I mean it’s not like they’re wrong about me.” Kei looked away from her, face red. “If they called me a dyke, I mean.” Oh kid, I’m sorry.

“That’s not what they mean by it. They just hate that a girl is faster than them. They’ll accuse you of sleeping your way to the top. That’s how it is for every woman here. You can’t let them get to you.”

“I don’t care if they say it about me. It’s just not fair to you.” Kei pressed her lips together, turned her gaze to the sky. Venus greeted her. 

“It’s not fair to you either, kid.” 

Kei scowled.

Claudia gave her a hug. “I hear congratulations are in order for our Kerberos pilot.” Tomoe felt heat rush through her body. You’re in public Tomoe. Anyone could walk by this hallway. Don’t look like that.

“Well I mean. There’s still plenty of time for them to change their minds,” she tried to deflect, pulling back a bit, smiling, but Claudia took her by the shoulders.

“Come on. Who would they replace you with? Mini-Keith? They can’t get better.” Claudia’s smile was all-encompassing. Beautiful. “I bet Adam is thrilled. His girlfriend is the pilot of pilots.” Tomoe felt her face fall. Claudia’s brow furrowed. “Is something wrong?” 

“It’s over. Between us. I mean,” she shrugged. “He didn’t want me to leave for all that time. I don’t know.” She knew. 

“Oh, Shiro,” Claudia pulled her in for another hug. Tomoe liked the way she said Shiro, tongue tapping the roof of her mouth. She liked the way her body felt against hers. “I don’t see what anyone wouldn’t like about you.” Claudia pulled back, letting her hand trail down Tomoe’s arm. Please don’t let me be reading this wrong . Tomoe closed her eyes briefly, opened them on Claudia taking her hand. “Do you want to come back to my room?” Tomoe’s eyes flew up. Claudia met hers with an intensity she had only ever hoped would be there. “We can eat ice cream about your break up there.” Claudia looked Tomoe up and down. It wasn’t a graceful come on. 

“Please,” Tomoe almost whimpered. Mortifying . Her knees felt weak. Claudia slung an arm around her shoulder, guiding her back to a room she’d never seen before. It was still mostly packed, months since Claudia had moved in. Cardboard boxes stacked near the door, in the back corner of the room, a few suitcases lying in the center.

“Sorry for the mess, I haven’t. I haven’t really thought about unpacking yet.” Claudia looked away, embarrassment coloring her face. “I just got confirmed to stay here for the next few years and I was too overwhelmed to start. Maybe I should’ve thought about that before inviting you over.” 

“Claudia, I didn’t come over for the interior design,” Tomoe smiled, though her face still felt red and warm. Claudia looked back at her, looked down her front, touched her hip, looked back at her eyes. 

“What did you come over for,” her voice dropped. 

That was the first time Tomoe kissed a woman. As it turned out it wouldn’t be the last.

She liked lying in bed with Claudia. Lying in bed with Claudia was easy. Getting up for a knock at the door, less so. She heard muffled voices outside and her heart dropped. Adam? She winced. What on earth is he doing here? It’s only been a few weeks since we broke it off. She shoved her ear up to the door, hoping to get some idea of what was happening.

“You’re not in trouble for that . It is normal. You just can’t be doing that in empty classrooms at night and I am not equipped for this conversation.” He rapped sharply on the door. Oh. Well. I guess it’s a girl? She didn’t love giving cadets the sex talk. She’d rarely been made to do it, but she knew Adam was almost the default choice to give it to the boys at the Garrison. The Garrison preferred Tomoe sexless and sterile, a face for posters and recruitment. 

Adam knocked again, she opened the door, absently realizing she was wearing Claudia’s sweatshirt and one of her pairs of shorts. She hoped Adam wouldn’t notice. And– Kei? Hair disheveled, face red, a darkening bruise on her collarbone. Oh. That’s why he came to me . “Please explain to cadet Keith here why we don’t under any circumstances allow for romantic entanglements between cadets to take place in public rooms. Then you can escort her to her room.” His voice was cold, he had a firm grip on Kei's shoulder, where she was squirming. 

“It wasn’t– ” Kei yanked her shoulder out from under Adam’s palm.

“ No , cadet. The only reason this isn’t a bigger issue is that I caught you two and the other cadet ran before I could speak to her.” Her? “Now I’ve delivered you to your mentor and she can sort you out–” Adam’s voice choked the last few words out. Tomoe heard steps from the inside of the apartment, saw Kei’s eyes widen in shock, and braced herself. 

“Baby? What’s going on?” And Tomoe closed her eyes because this could not be happening. This cannot be happening right now.

“Well.” Adam’s hands were fists at his sides, his eyes were closed, he took a very deep breath. “I see you’re an even more fitting lecturer than I thought. Good night .” He turned and stalked off. Kei stood, frozen, looking between Tomoe and Claudia, still bright red. Tomoe looked back at Claudia, who winced.

“I’ll, I’ll let you two talk.” She turned and walked back to the bedroom, leaving Tomoe alone with Kei. She pulled Kei in and closed the door behind her, guiding the girl over to a stool by her kitchen. 

“We don’t have to talk.” Kei choked out. “I won’t do it again. It’s fine.” 

“You don’t have to tell me, but who is she?” Tomoe smiled, trying to project anything other than discomfort. She wasn’t sure if she was succeeding though. “Is she your girlfriend?”

“ No .” Kei flushed again. “It’s not serious at all for either of us. It’s fine we won’t do it again.” 

“You can have a girlfriend, Kei, there’s no rule against it as long as she’s not in your cohort or chain of command.” Tomoe knew those regulations front and back at least. She’d been good with Adam and Claudia. Not that it mattered, anyway. She’d made a mess of things anyway. 

“I’m not interested in her like that. It was just–” Kei cut herself off. “Her name is Veronica. She’s not in my track. She’s in the analytics track a year or two ahead of me. She’s nice. It’s not anything.” She crossed her arms, curling in on herself. “I won’t do it again.” 

“Kei, you’re fifteen. It’s okay if you want to date–”

“I don’t.” Kei shut her down, not meeting her eyes. “Can I go?” Tomoe nodded, following her as she walked back to her room as quickly as possible. It wasn’t protocol for the cadet to be leading the officer, but it was late enough that no one would notice. Kei got to her room, opened and shut the door faster than Tomoe could even blink. 

She couldn’t help but feel like something had gone horribly wrong on every front that night.

She hadn’t told her parents she applied for the Garrison when she did. It all reared its ugly head when she came home from middle school one day and saw her mother with a letter in her hand and her father sitting at the table and the envelope laid out in front of them. 

“Do you want to be a man? Is that it? Is that all this was for?” 

“No.” 

“Don’t talk back, Tomoe!” 

And the truth was that she didn’t want to be a man but if being a woman if being sick if being her mother’s daughter and her father’s daughter was what kept her from breathing in the stars in the sky then she didn’t want to be a woman either but how could she be anything other than what she knew she was, down to her bones.

Chapter Text

“That Keith girl is definitely fucking someone.”

“She’s a discipline case, she’s always in some fight or another, and they let it slip. You think she’s giving Iverson head?”

“She’s not so bad to look at if you get over the hair. And the bitchiness” 

“She really is such a bitch. At least Shirogane isn’t so bad”

“Shirogane is frigid though. Ice princess. At least Keith is easy to get a rise out of. Bet she’d be like that in bed. Shirogane’d just lie back and take it.”

“They must be cheating together. No other way for them to be topping the simulator scores like that.”

“Them together would be a fucking sight though”

“Do you want to say that to my face next time? I’ll be reporting this to your commanding officer. Enjoy latrines and reassignment. And that’s only if I don’t get my way and have you decommissioned for speaking about a child in a sexual context.” She wanted to punch them. She wanted to make them hurt . But she couldn’t, could she? 

Kei would’ve punched him. Tomoe wasn’t sure when she started feeling so weak.

The problem with talent would always be jealousy. Envy slid into her life unnoticed, until it consumed her. She knew her mentee’s life was hard. Harder, in some ways, than her own, even where it was easier in others. But she couldn’t help but watch Kei in the simulator and wish for a moment she could do that. A tiny part of her was almost glad that she wouldn’t be well enough to pilot after Kerberos. She knew by then Kei would be undeniable. It was only being underage by the launch date that was holding her back. And the insubordination.

“Never gets easier watching, does it?” Adam murmured. She almost jumped. Time had led them to an uneasy peace, their position as co-instructors of fighter pilot classes necessitating them to collaborate. But Tomoe knew she’d broken something there.

“What never gets easier?” She whispered back. But she knew Adam could still read her better than most. He rolled his eyes. 

“How do you think the rest of us felt about you? Look at her classmates. They hate her too. It’s hard to hate you. She makes it easy.” Adam shrugged. “Guess you’re seeing what the other end is like now. Worst part is she can’t get it in her head that she’s better than you. Good luck, Shiro .” He let the name sting. 

“She’s not easy to hate,” Tomoe insisted. “She’s a good kid.”

“She’s your only friend and you’re her only friend.” Adam let himself smile, one brow rising incredulously. “Misery loves company might apply here.” 

“I have friends, Adam.”

“I’m your ex. I don’t count. And if you can tell me one thing about Ramos besides what she’s like in bed and vice versa I will eat my shoe.” Adam took some notes absently while they both pretended they had anything to say to Kei about her simulator run. Tomoe took a breath but Adam started speaking again. “ And the Holts don’t count because I’m pretty sure, last I checked, they’re your mission partners. Getting along is part of the job.” Tomoe shut her mouth.

“I– I’m sorry?”

“What are you apologizing for? At least you have one friend now, which is much healthier than it all was before, isn’t it?” Adam dropped his head into the palm of hand watching Kei in the simulator. “I’ll never understand how Keith does it. It makes no sense.” Tomoe stared at the simulator screen. She could see what made Kei want to do what she did in there, she could never quite figure out how she made it happen. It was incredible.

“She’s something else,” Tomoe agreed. She swallowed. “Adam, I’m sorry about the way I treated you.” He turned to look at her, grinning wryly.

“This is not the place for this conversation. You’re forgiven in part. Let’s not be best friends.” He shrugged. “I understand you’re all repressed,” he waved a hand dismissively, “because of everything and I still disapprove of a lot of how you live your life but it’s not my business anymore. I was kind of awful too. It’s better for both of us this way. We can be good coworkers.” He adjusted his glasses, a hint of sadness lingering in the corners of his eyes. “Man. Wonderkid is good.” 

“She really is.” 

Things were easy enough with Claudia. They were. Tomoe knew as little about her as she knew about Tomoe. Sex was, as it turned out, remarkably uncomplicated when she stopped trying to make things work with a man. It was all very easy. Fun. 

It ate away at her. It gnawed. Something was missing and gone and empty in her.

She dragged a hand across her face, getting out of bed. It was all very pleasant, all very nice. It was. Claudia didn’t seem bothered at all, sleeping peacefully. Fuck what is wrong with me? Everything was fine. But she still felt it creep along her bones, the emptiness. She stared at the stars outside her window. Why can’t I want more than this with her? What am I missing? The thing was that what she wanted with Claudia wasn’t what she wanted and Tomoe wished she could just stop wanting without an object. 

Clawing, churning, creeping hunger. The stars smiled down at her. Do you want us?

Her parents had wanted a daughter. She’d been their daughter. They wanted grandchildren. She’d never internalized what it meant. Her parents had drummed it into her head that men were not to be trusted. That sex was improper. That she couldn’t want. She’d come to the Garrison knowing her father and mother wanted her to leave. She’d come to the Garrison knowing they wanted her to remain a good, virginal daughter.

They wanted so much.

She wanted more. She couldn’t help herself from wanting, wanting, wanting more. She wanted to reject her parents, she met Adam. She wanted to reject them more. 

What other sins would it take to satisfy the want?

Kerberos’ shadow stretched over Kei’s shoulders. Records kept falling, but every whisper had the girl looking like she might take flight at any moment. A bird . Tomoe knew it was Kerberos in the way that she knew Kei didn’t want people to know her real name, in the way that she knew Kei preferred any simulator to balance the weight toward the front rather than the rear. 

“I want to leave,” Kei threw the door to the simulator room open, “I’m not staying in there another hour.” 

Tomoe knew she should’ve pushed it. But Kei was always either all in or out. There was no point. It was summer. There was no class to attend to, there were very few cadets still at the Garrison, she could afford to let Kei have this. And time is running out, isn’t it? For her and for me. She grinned at Kei’s frown. “Do you want to fly something else for a change?” Kei beamed all the way to the bike hangar.

The desert tucked them in, blanketed them in sunset and dust. Summer heat slid down the back of Tomoe’s neck, clinging to her clothes and limbs. 

She drew to a pause, waiting for Kei at the top of another cliff. Sprawled out on the sand and rock as the night bled into the day, sunset staining the sky red. “I wasn’t too bad for an old timer?” Kei flopped down beside her.

“How do you get it to work?” She sounded winded. “I had to bail down the side of the cliff.”

“You probably didn't,” Tomoe shrugged. “It’s just that it feels like you need to. Trust your bike. You’re good enough to make it work.” Kei made a face at that. 

“I think maybe I’m not there yet, old timer. Still a lot for you to teach me,” Kei smiled, eyes distant. 

“I don’t know about that one,” Tomoe whispered. Kei’s head snapped back to her.

“What?” Tomoe shrank.

“Kei. You’re a better pilot than I am now. It was only ever a matter of time.” She tried to smile, but it felt a little too fake for her to manage, so she just shrugged instead. “Not much for an old timer to show you anymore. Besides how to keep a lid on it when you’re talking to people.” Kei curled in on herself, eyes downcast. “I’ll be old news when I get back, and I won’t be able to fly. You’ve outgrown me–”

“I haven’t.” Kei snapped. “I never will. But if you want an excuse to leave then just do it. Don’t pretend.” She moved to get up. Tomoe grabbed her wrist, and Kei wrenched it away. “ Don’t touch me . If you want to go just go already.” 

“I don’t .” 

“Then what–”

“I don’t want to hold you back .” Kei stared at her, brow furrowed in confusion. Tomoe had to explain. She had to. In her silence, Kei started to turn back to her bike. “Kei. Kei . You’re brilliant. You could do so much. How could I ever forgive myself if you held back thinking I was still something to reach rather than leave behind?” 

Kei scoffed. She kicked her bike, and took a deep breath. “I want to punch you.” Tomoe looked away. “I owe you my life and you want me to just ditch you like that? What is wrong with you?” 

“I don’t want you to ditch me, I don’t want to keep you stuck depending on someone whose help you don’t need anymore when she’s going to die by forty!” Tomoe felt her voice catch on her last words. “What kind of mentor would I even be? I’m not going to clip your wings just because I’m the lucky person to have given you a chance when anyone could see plain as day you needed one!”

“ No one thought I needed a chance but you . Fuck you, Shiro, do you even know what you’ve done for me? I would’ve–” Kei cut herself off, face as red as the last dregs of sunset, fading out from the sky with the dying sun. “You don’t need to be teaching me about flying I just don’t want you to lea–” 

“I’m sorry I’m going to Kerberos.” Tomoe interrupted her. “Kei I’m sorry I won’t be able to–”

“ Never apologize to me again.” Kei scowled. Tomoe looked away, pretending not to see her eyes watering. “Go to Kerberos. Come back .” Gritted teeth, mortification painted red across her cheeks, eyes anywhere but on Tomoe. 

“If you want to go just go already.” Oh, Kei. If it hurts for you why would you let me? Tomoe set her jaw. So be it. She’d have to come back. She’d have to make sure she wasn’t holding Kei back some other way. Support could be good too . “I promise Kei. I’ll always come back.” 

Matthew Holt was an awkward kid. Only about three years younger than Tomoe, but unquestionably one of the most brilliant minds at the Garrison outside of his father. He didn’t know what to do with his eyes or hands talking to people he didn’t know. Tomoe thought he seemed rather similar to Kei, in some ways, but he lacked her temper. He would be returning from Kerberos to a doctorate degree ceremony. At 21 years old, he’d broken new ground on cryptography, won a Fields medal, and now, would be one of the youngest science officers in history. 

Sam Holt was the Garrison’s original pioneer. A groundbreaking astronaut and engineer. The progenitor of the Kerberos mission, in a way no one else could claim. He’d insisted on it, kept the budget to a point where it was even feasible, the one who had initially found some signal from out in the Kuiper Belt that made everyone peer toward the skies, wondering if life was closer than they’d thought. A phenom in his youth, an invaluable asset in the current day. 

Tomoe Shirogane was a prodigy. Had been since they’d tested her on the first day of classes as a cadet. Fast-tracked through the pilot program, inducted into the officer ranks in record pace. Youngest pilot for a mission to Saturn’s moons. The epitome of perfection in discipline, piloting, and the Garrison’s shining example of an initiative for women to get into the pilot program. 

The best and brightest the Earth had to offer. Brilliance in every form.

What a shame, really, that it wasn’t enough.

The arena yawned down at her. Didn’t you want to be out here? It mocked her. And she killed because she didn’t want to be killed and because the only way to not be killed was to kill. But she couldn’t let Matt die. She’d failed with Sam, she’d broken her promises, she needed Matt to live. If I die I was dying anyway. I want him to live. 

Kei? Are you out there? I’m sorry I couldn’t keep my promise. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. She waited for a threat. She waited for Kei to tell her she would punch her if she apologized just one more time. Kei? Keep it together without me please. Please, Kei. 

She didn’t really know Matthew “Call me Matt” Holt. But she was starting to like him. He was small, scrawny, and decidedly smart.

“Call me Shiro,” she’d replied, once they were well and truly away from the Garrison’s eyes. Sam Holt had let military discipline slip the moment they’d launched. She’d never understand him. “Tomoe is an old person name.” 

Matt grinned. “Saw your birthday. You’ll have to live forever to earn Tomoe status.” He’d looked back at his monitor, tapping away at things Tomoe never wanted to understand. “Hey, do you think when we meet the aliens they’ll have first names?”

“I mean, surely aliens have names, right?” She couldn’t help but indulge the hypothetical that they’d be talking to aliens. The trip was for microbes, but she had a feeling Matt was just as excited for little green men in his head.

“They might only have relational names!” Matt’s whole face lit up, information buoying him out of his laptop screen. “Some older cultures on earth used to completely lack personal names and just refer to each other by their relations to each other. So like someone’s mother would be someone else’s sister and they just knew by position. It’s so cool. Or maybe I don’t know how much you keep up with modern cult formation but there’s this one cult that cropped up after World War Three where they would only refer to each other by their role in the commune, so people would have names changing, and– I’m rambling. Sorry for the info vomit.”

“No, this is really interesting!” She smiled. After spending so much time with Kei, with herself, even with Adam, someone so chatty was a definite change of pace. “How do you know so much about this stuff? I thought you were a communications and encryption specialist.”

“Well I guess it’s sort of related to cryptography, the best codes don’t need to be super sophisticated. I use a Caesar cipher for a lot of my personal things with a book and a personal code. It’s super safe because no one knows it if they’re not me. But it’s also just interesting like learning about how people communicate with each other is a lot of anthropology stuff sometimes so it’s only natural to get into it. It’s super super cool. Actually, my little sister, she’s more of an engineer and mechanic than I am, I’m much more theoretical, but she’s working on this personal project where she tries to see if it’s possible to encode neurons, like get them to work like an enigma machine but in your brain. That’s not exactly how it works but that’s the easiest way to explain it. It’d be so neat if it worked and imagine how secure things could be!” Matt talked with his hands. Tomoe tried to trace out what he meant, but it was lost on her. 

“Oh?” She didn’t quite understand how enigma machines worked. She knew they’d been in the second world war though. 

“She’s so smart I’m so excited for her to graduate high school early so we can get to work together on research. I’ll kick her ass though.” Matt grinned. “She’ll basically be done with the Garrison’s high school curriculum by the time we get back.” Tomoe blinked. 

“Matt, I’m going to be completely honest, I was pretty good at school. I don’t think I’m humanly capable of following.”

“That’s okay! You can tell me about piloting. I just can’t get it. I’ve tried the simulator so many times and I just don’t get how you could possibly respond to the stimuli so quickly it’s so impressive.” Matt seemed like he could be excited and curious about paint drying. Tomoe couldn’t help but smile back.

“I mean. I don’t know. I’ve kind of just always practiced and it always clicked.” She shrugged. 

“Okay but like. What is it that you pick up on? When you see other people piloting, what makes you think ‘yeah that’s potential.’ The Garrison always had you recruiting and you’re so good yourself there’s definitely some sort of tangible thing you pick up on for aptitude.” Matt was moving constantly. Fiddling with a pen, tapping at his monitor, messing with a little bubble of water that was floating around in the capsule.

Potential. Potential was Kei, blasting through records. Potential was whispers of men calling her a bitch. Potential was always a girl who would be hated by her peers. “I think, it’s just ease. Trust. In flying.”

“Oh. I know the morons making these ships. That’ll never be me.” Matt grinned at her. “Damn. Guess my piloting dreams have been dashed!” She smiled back. 

“We have found in its genetics that it is diseased.”

“Fix it. The Champion is a good institution for the empire. A chained bitch is better than a dead one.” 

“Yes, high priestess, it will be done.”

“And remove any potential complications. I don’t want any chances.” 

She hurt. She hurt in ways she’d never imagined and her arm. Her arm was gone. Her arm was gone but it wasn’t gone and she could feel it there but it wasn’t hers. She couldn’t scream anymore, her vocal chords couldn’t take it.

Tomoe Shirogane dreamed.

The first time Kei asked her a question about herself she’d been tinkering with Tomoe’s hoverbike. They’d been contemplating adding turbochargers, and Kei had insisted she could make it work. Kei had been lying on the floor, soldering iron strewn to one side, giving up for now. “Why do they call you Shiro?” 

Tomoe had tried not to gasp, privately cherishing that Kei was finally embracing a desire for information. She couldn’t keep the smile off her face, almost overwhelmed with pride. “Well, honestly, everyone kept saying my first name as Toe-moe and my last name as Shiro-gain, so I just kept the only part anyone said right. But now everyone knows how to say my last name. So my friends call me Shiro.”

“Not Tomoe?” Kei pronounced it right, almost musically. Tomoe almost wondered– but better to not ask.

“Adam calls me Tomoe.” It never sounded right from his tongue. “I don’t know. I guess it’s just one of those things where I’m used to being Shiro with my friends. It’s cooler than Tomoe, for sure.” She pulled a face. “That’s my annoying great aunt’s name.” Kei snorted.

“Sure, Shiro. At least you’re not named Keith .” She made a face. “I should’ve punched that social worker.” They laughed together, Tomoe resolving to keep that memory forever.

She wanted it to stop, she wanted to stop killing, she wanted almost to stop living. Her victories had won her a cell with a porthole. Every hour she was locked in there the stars laughed at her, glittering mockery. It was beautiful. She was too ugly to enjoy it. She dug down in her core and the gaping emptiness was there, growing by the day. No one had touched her without trying to kill her in such a long time. She hadn’t cried. She felt pieces of herself slipping away. What memories was she losing? 

I can’t stay here . She felt it down to her bones, her aching bones. Her bones that didn’t ache the same. Whatever they did to her, they didn’t ache right. She felt like her entire insides had been taken and spat back out. Was there anything left in her?

Her first period had happened when she was at the Garrison. The doctor there had fussed at her, telling her that it had to do with a delayed development due to improper nutrition for her activity. She’d hated it. She’d never wanted a period, never wanted children. She’d begged them to let her get a hysterectomy, wanted nothing more than a release from the monthly reminder that she wasn’t like her peers. The only girl in her fighter pilot class. The only girl in her advanced combat classes. She didn’t want to sit out, she didn’t want to have to deal with it. 

She used to not eat. She used to avoid her parents by not eating. She knew it could let her skip periods. The second they caught wind of it, the Garrison doctor had put her on a strict meal plan, telling her under no circumstances was she allowed to deviate from it. She’d hated it. Hated every second of choking down the food. Fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, all those years had slipped by her. She got used to it. She started skipping periods with birth control, it worked.

She noticed when her period vanished in the arena. Part of her wanted to laugh. Well, I got it at last . She didn’t know what they’d done to her. Maybe they just didn’t want her to feel time passing. 

There was only one time, the arena’s. She’d never enjoyed her period. But it was gone and the emptiness in her pulled, pulled, pulled. It had been hers. She wanted it back. She wanted everything they’d taken from her back. She felt nausea clawing through her every time she even tried to think about it. Her arm, her period, her memories, even her pain. The sound of her mother’s voice was gone, wasn’t it? She felt it vanish. She knew what her mother had said, she did. “Tomoe, you’re a beautiful girl. This illness doesn’t take that from you. You could still have children.” Sorry mother. I’m sorry . For what she didn’t know.

Her father had never wanted her to fight. He and her mother had both been convinced she would break. She couldn’t remember their voices. “You shouldn’t push.” “We’ve sacrificed so much to make sure you can live a good life.” “You mustn't try to be a man, Tomoe, you’re a beautiful girl.” “You’re not gay. You’re just confused.” 

What had they sounded like? The words all blended together. 

I wonder if I still count as a woman now .

She had never felt particularly beautiful. Features too foreign, though her family had lived in America for generations, build too masculine, squarish, tall. Adam had told her she was beautiful and she absently thought that was out of a sense of duty. Claudia had said she was attractive and that Tomoe could believe. Beauty was not necessarily attractiveness. 

She had known men would stare at her with desire. She knew it the way she knew people in the arena did it. Their gaze scraped across her body in the predictable places. Fine. The touching was worse. It had been present, all the time, always, in the Garrison. Even if they weren’t supposed to. Too long of a grab in a spar, a graze in the hallway, even more glaring things, it all was too much there. Here, the only touch she knew was violence. Violence, or the medics. The medics who did things she couldn’t remember, who took pieces of her every time. Every time she went with them she came back with less.

Soon, soon there will be nothing left of me . 

Kei would’ve never been in this position, she thought. Kei would’ve run, would’ve rather died than be chained down. Kei’s voice pressed in the corners of her mind. “Don’t touch me.” “Can I go?” She’d run away, die free.

Sometimes she wondered why Kei was even enrolled at the Garrison. She figured it was flying. How else would Kei manage to take flight? It was a cruel thing for her to be born without wings. But the Garrison’s military structure crushed her down even more. Kei looked like she wanted to bolt, constantly, dark eyes always on the nearest exit. Tomoe knew she’d leave, push came to shove. But she couldn’t tell what was keeping her there.

Kei looked back from the stars to notice Tomoe studying her. “What?” 

“Just wondering. Where do you want to go, when we get up there?” She pointed up from the desert ground at the night sky. Kei frowned.

“I don’t know,” she stared out at the stars, “I just want to be there and not here. I want to fly. Always have. I used to–” Kei shrugged, cutting herself off. 

Tomoe let her sit in silence, looking up with her. She decided to push, for once. Kei seemed like words were bubbling under the surface. “Used to what?” 

“My pop used to say I was from there. Whenever I asked him where my ma was.” Kei smiled, bitter. “Like an alien stork, I guess. I don’t remember what he sounded like anymore.”

Tomoe stayed silent. She didn’t know how to talk to Kei about family. She had parents, had left them, had fought with them, had hated them as much as she understood them. She couldn’t imagine why someone would want to leave Kei, why someone would abandon her. “Well, whatever alien stork brought you here, I owe them.” 

“He was a firefighter. Sometimes.” Kei pressed her lips together. “Sorry I know you don’t–”

“Hey.” Tomoe reached out for Kei’s shoulder, Kei leaning into it as ever. “No apologies, right? You and me both.” Kei gazed up at her, mouth slightly open in wonder. “Your dad sounds like a hero.”

“Yeah. They told him not to go back in and–” Kei cut herself off again, biting the inside of her cheeks. “I was alone for three days before anyone noticed.” She whispered. Tomoe couldn’t stop herself from wrapping the girl in a hug. I won’t let that happen to you. And Kei’s arms hesitantly wrapped around her. “I’m sorry for running. I didn’t want to go back to the home for the winter.”

“You don’t have to run. Just tell me. I’ll always be here for you.”

The arena was determined to make a liar out of her.

Her parents had kicked her out when the Garrison enrollment turned into her full time job. When she didn’t leave. They’d given her an ultimatum. She hadn’t taken it. She wondered constantly what they would think about her, if they would even care that she died. They weren’t that bad, I don’t think. They would’ve made good parents for another daughter . But not her. 

She’d never gone back for her things. She’d never thought about speaking to them, not even about Kerberos. How would they get the news? Her next of kin in the Garrison wasn’t even remotely related to them. Her whole extended family wouldn’t speak to her. All over her going military. She couldn’t even remember why she’d thought it was worth it now. Except it wasn’t just the military it wasn’t just that it was that they knew they all knew and they didn’t tell me but they’d made it clear and I hadn’t realized until it was too late, far too late. Adam did you know too? Did everyone know but me?

She couldn’t remember their voices. She couldn’t. She didn’t know if she wanted to remember them either.

The arena was going to kill her. Kill her. Ha. She was killing everyone else instead. Blood on her hands she would never wash out, not in a million years. She wondered. Her mother had been religious. Converted with her father, but her father had never been devout. Her mother had always said that penance and service were the only ways to atone for sin. But there was no god in space, was there? Her mother’s god was lost in the sea of stars and spacetime and dying in a pool of alien blood on the floor of the arena.

Tomoe, there’s God in everyone . Was god in the aliens too? What would her punishment be, when she died? She yearned for nothingness to consume her. There couldn’t be an afterlife when she’d killed so many and no ghost had come to kill her. 

“Champion.”

“Champion.”

“Champion.”

If there was a god he was a man. Tomoe knew that for a fact. A man who made her only to take everything that was her away. All to punish her for not loving him back. She couldn’t, and it was his fault, and she would pay for it.

“I wonder what’s up there.” She pointed at the ceiling, wishing it would vanish.

“God, I guess.” Kei pulled a face, “I hope he’s an alien with too many arms and eyes.” 

“Is that who you go to church for?” 

“No, I go to church because the housemother forces me and I can feel myself burning.” Kei laughed. Tomoe couldn’t stop herself from smiling with her. “God knows I’d beat him up. That’s why he doesn’t talk to me.” She stretched, catlike, before peeling herself off the gym floor. “You could beat up god with me.”

“Beat me, then we’ll take on god.” Kei beamed at her, and pulled her up off the mat.

“Champion. Wake up.” She groaned. She wanted to hear her name. She needed her name. But not from them. Kei, is this how it is? Is this why you didn’t want them saying your name? “Champion. Do you wish to escape, or not?” She woke up. 

She couldn’t die. She couldn’t. She had a promise to keep. “Who are you?” 

“No one you need to worry about. When you escape, may we meet again in better circumstances. Find Voltron.” Her captor, no, her savior, threw her in an escape pod. “I hope to learn your name then, Champion.”

She dreamed, dreamed of Kei. Whatever they’d done to her before she’d been freed. Whatever it was. She didn’t know anything anymore. She felt herself, shouting, delirious. The Garrison. They needed to know. The Galra. Her captors. Everyone was coming. 

“ Listen to me,” she grabbed at the hands that were lifting her up, moving her, injecting her with any number of things. “Don’t touch me,” ringing in her head. 

“Shiro?” Kei . She felt herself falling. She reached out, Kei’s fuzzy features fading in and out of focus. Kei, Kei, I need your help. Kei please. They’re going to get us, we’re not ready. Please. I don’t want them to come here because of me, we need Voltron. 

She felt herself falling again. I told you you were ready . She wanted to cry. Kei. I know you don’t need me anymore but I need you.

She stirred, sunrise pulling at her eyelids. Her arm that wasn’t hers drew across her face, wiping away the sleep from her eyes. Hair longer than it had ever been, she noticed white streaking through it for the first time. I never wanted this. I never. The warmth from the sun. She’d never even let herself miss it. She closed her eyes again, sitting up. The drafty, desert air caressed her. 

She’d missed Kei’s gaze. She opened her eyes to meet dark eyes. Kei’s brow eased, eyes soft, and Tomoe stared at her. She looked older. Face longer, everything about her still angular and harsh-edged, but stretched in a way it hadn’t before. How much time had she lost? “How long?” She croaked. Her throat hurt. Coughing, she looked up and watched as Kei’s face broke, and she ran over with water. Tomoe took a sip, the taste feeling so alien she almost felt nauseous. She choked it down.

“Since you launched? More than a year. It’s been months since they–” Kei cut herself off. Her voice hadn’t changed all that much. She was glad. She’d remembered it right. 

“Took us.”

“They said you were dead.” Kei’s voice cracked. “I didn’t want to believe it.”

“I promised. I promised you.” She was shaking. “I had to come back. I had to.” Kei had never initiated touch like this before but she took Tomoe into her arms and Tomoe clung to her, shaking. Everything felt different now. She buried her face into Kei’s shoulder, breathing deeply. “I promised you.”

“I missed you.” 

“Shiro?”

“Kei.”

“It’s good to have you back.”

“It’s good to be back.”

Her name. She had a name again. Drenched in sunlight and desert and Kei. “You’re nineteen now, right? Happy late birthday.” Kei rolled her eyes. 

“You’re still six. No birthdays for you.” Tomoe smiled. It felt difficult. Her muscles didn’t know what to do anymore. Kei’s smile looked shaky, wobbly, uncertain. We’re a mess, aren’t we? “Uh. I don’t know what to do about them.” Kei tilted her head back at her father’s shack.

Tomoe shrugged. “I owe them. I owe you. ” 

“You could never owe me anything.” 

One day, while Matt was sleeping, tired out from a day of adjustments to their communications equipment, Sam Holt had cornered her for a talk. 

“Shirogane. I just wanted to thank you.” She’d balked. For what? He’d given her the chance of a lifetime. “Matt is– he’s a good kid.” His face had softened. She caught a glimpse of the father under the military legend. “He has very few friends.”

“So do I, sir.” She confessed. Sam Holt tilted his head at her, eyes sharp. 

“Is it the illness?” Oh, that was where Matt got it from, wasn’t it?

“No, sir it’s,” she cut herself off. “It’s a lot of things.”

“And I would like to apologize for the behavior of the men on the base. I’m sure that didn’t help. I trust in your skills. I love my family. I trust you to bring me and Matt back to my wife and daughter. That is why you were chosen.” She nodded. 

“Sir? I’m also sorry for any sort of things people have said about you as a result. I know those things follow me around and–”

“Officer Shirogane. You have done nothing wrong. I cannot hold you at fault for the behaviors of the military at standard. I love my family dearly. I go home to them and I have the luxury to leave the Garrison’s vulgarity aside. That’s the only thing one can do about it. I know myself. I know my family. I hope with time to get to know you, but I trust in your integrity.” She felt a weight come off her shoulders. 

“Thank you, sir.” She nodded. “I’m extremely grateful for this opportunity. I will do you proud here.” Sam Holt smiled at her.

“You should be proud of yourself first. You’re a brilliant officer. The Garrison has needed talent like you for decades. You’ve got a phenomenal way with people.” She looked away. “Officer Shirogane. I hope you know your skills as a pilot are not the only thing about you that makes you exceptional. My wife would have my head if I didn’t mention to you how much you’ve been a driving force in the efforts to improve things for women at the Garrison. And, on my part, I’m grateful you’ve been a friend to my son here.” It was all too much. Tomoe couldn’t accept that.

“Thank you, sir.”

“All I hope, Shiro,” she blinked, “Is that you have support. It’s lonely at the top. I know this too. But I’ve got my family. My wife, my children, they’re enough for me. You don’t need to tell me who that is for you, you just need to have it there. And then what everyone says about you, and will always say about you for as many years as you remain spectacular, it’ll all fade away.”

Tomoe thought about what she’d told Kei years ago. She almost wanted to ask Sam what he would do if the things everyone was saying were about his family instead of him.

Then again, she didn’t think she needed to ask.

Katie Holt. It had to be. She was the spitting image of Matt. She had Sam Holt’s eyes. Tomoe felt guilt crawling around in her esophagus. Kei looked at her, a warning ringing clear in dark eyes. “Shiro, this is Lance, Hunk, and Pidge .” Pidge. Okay. Pidge. But Pidge was asking about the other men on the mission and Tomoe couldn’t. She just. Couldn’t. She didn’t know where they were. She’d failed.

Kei scowled. “We just got her back. Let her breathe.”

“We need to know. We need to figure out what this Voltron is.” Katie scowled right back. Voltron. Voltron was what her rescuer had talked about. Voltron was. The weapon. The Galra wanted it. They had to get it.

“We need to find it.” She spoke up. Lance, Hunk, and Katie Holt jolted, staring at her. Kei glared at them. 

Tomoe Shirogane left the earth less than twenty four hours after returning. She stared back at the rapidly fading pale blue dot. At least this time she hadn’t left someone behind. Kei stood next to her, unwavering. I have to keep this promise. I have to. 

She wondered if Sam Holt’s family felt like this to him. She wondered if he swallowed guilt and breathed shame with them. She wondered if they’d saved him in ways he couldn’t even begin to express. She wondered if he thought it was wrong for himself to rely on them like that. She wished she could ask him. What was this all for? Why should she get to push all of that onto Kei? Why couldn’t she just keep a damn promise?

“Shiro?” She turned to her friend. To her family. Kei looked both very small and so much older than she’d been once. Why did you have to go and grow up without me ? 

“Kei?”

“I’m glad you’re not alone up here this time.” Kei smiled at her, thin, tired, hurt.

“I’m glad you’re not alone down there this time.” She leaned on Kei, feeling another person there. I’m sorry. I need you. I’m sorry I can’t do this alone.

Chapter Text

She heard the lion. She heard it. It reached inside her and grabbed the core of her. You’ll do. That was enough for her. I’ll do it. I will. 

You will.

It felt like a part of her and not. It was like she was being held in the palms of a giant. If the lion wanted her gone, she would be. And she was supposed to lead the others? How could she possibly? She swallowed hard, staring out from the lion’s head. Voltron scared her. No one should have this power. Least of all me.

It is not about should . It echoed in her spine. The lion yawned, avoiding the emptiness inside her, slinking into an unclaimed corner. That is yours to keep . Emptiness. Emptiness was hers. The lion let her feel its own emptiness. Cavernous, gaping, emptiness. We are the same in that sense. She could make this work. They understood each other.

She didn’t want the other paladins in her head. Kei’s glare echoed her thoughts, fists at her side, but tense, waiting. Tomoe made eye contact with her, Kei’s glare softened. She swallowed, shrugged, and said “fine.” 

Katie Holt was inscrutable to her. She knew Matt had said his sister was brilliant. She hadn’t realized that meant Katie Holt would be so difficult to read. 

She pictured the desert, when her focus slipped. The desert, the night, the stars. The echo of Kei’s voice, freer than it ever was inside. The rumble of an engine. 

“Patience yields focus, Kei.”

“What does that even mean, Shiro? I’m not getting it. It’s not happening.”

“You’re rushing. You want things to happen now, come to you now, do everything now. But you have to let the flight come to you. Your moment-to-moment flying is incredible, your instincts are the best I’ve ever seen, but you don’t have a plan. Take your time. You have more time than anyone else does because you have that gut feeling.” She smiled at her friend. “It’ll come to you. You earned it.”

“Patience yields focus.” Kei closed her eyes, took a deep breath. “Shiro, what yields patience then?” 

“We’ll have to find out together.”

Kei didn’t get along with Lance. Tomoe had never met Lance Martinez before. Seemingly, neither had Kei. But Lance seemed insistent upon picking a fight with her. Adam would’ve called that pulling pigtails, wouldn’t he? And Kei was, well, different to how she was before. Not in a big way. But tenser, quieter until an inevitable explosion. What had happened to her when Tomoe was gone?

Another thing to feel guilty about, she supposed. She’d had to cut them off, Allura looking at her with thinly veiled disappointment at her lack of control. Kei had stared at her, jaw clenched. Yanked her shoulder out of Tomoe’s touch, stormed off on her own. Follow her then . The lion. Oh. You want to. Oh. And the worst part was that with Voltron there was a thrumming connection she could feel in the corners of her mind. And Kei was hurt. 

She crept into the red lion’s hangar, staring at the beast. You trespass. Her head ached , the red lion pressing, pressing, pressing. The black lion waited. She closed her eyes. I need to talk to her . It hurt. 

“Red! Enough.” Kei’s voice cut through, lifting off the push. Oh. She could breathe again. 

“Kei I just wanted to–”

“Don’t apologize to me. You were right anyway.” Kei pressed her lips together, coming down to sit next to Tomoe, leaning against her lion. “I just. I can’t deal with him.” 

“Why?” Tomoe tilted her head. She hadn’t really interacted with Lance very much yet, most of her conversations being with Kei and Allura. And the panic-inducing conversations with Katie. 

“He’s so. He reminds me of everyone at the Garrison. Whenever he’s talking to you or to Allura or me it’s all so. It’s just like them.” Kei sighed, closing her eyes. “I know I’m projecting. I know. I just don’t like it. And I’m tired. I just.” She pulled her legs into her chest. “Shiro, I just. Left.” Tomoe nodded, that much she’d surmised from Lance’s snide comments about it. “I couldn’t do it. I’m sorry. I know I failed you but I just couldn’t. Not without–” she cut herself off again.

“You don’t have to anymore.” Tomoe felt the lions agree. 

“But you wasted all of that time on me and I couldn’t even–”

“Hey.” She carefully placed an arm on Kei’s shoulder, gingerly pulling her in for a hug. Kei melted into it, taking a deep breath against her hair, longer than it had ever been before. “Nothing was ever wasted . And you saved my life, Kei. How could I ever be anything other than honored to know you?” 

“I’m sorry, Shiro.”

“No apologies, Kei. Not between the two of us.” She looked at the dark circles under Kei’s eyes, studied the drowsiness clinging to her eyelids. She gently rubbed her friend’s shoulder until she slipped off. She joined her, the low rumble of the lions watching over them.

Her eyes snapped open when the princess arrived. Allura. The last of her people. Born ten thousand years ago. Tomoe couldn’t bring herself to open herself up to her. Not like this. They didn’t know each other. “Princess.” She greeted her. Allura smiled, sadness sharp in the corner of her eyes.

“Shiro, I was wondering where you and Keith were. We were going to try the exercises again, just to practice.” She wrung her hands together. Kei stirred, and tensed. She sat upright, back stiff and straight. “Oh, hello, Keith. We were just mentioning we wanted to try some of the teamwork exercises again.” Kei nodded, springing up from the floor. She pulled Tomoe up with her. Tomoe missed contact. Missed feeling like a human under someone else’s hands. 

So this was Voltron, then. Cacophony. It was loud and overwhelming and exhausting. It was frightening. But she could feel Kei distantly, among everyone else, clung to her like a raft. She had to lead. Her lion pulled her, called to her, braced her up against the world and asked for her to pull the others along with her. Fine. This much, she could do.

Sendak. His name. She remembered the arena and the man who had called to her pulled her screaming into the killing. He made her into his favorite toy, made her kill, took her apart, pulled out her secrets and her whole self and tore her limb from limb until she was his. And she couldn’t do a thing. And he was here and he was alive and she couldn’t breathe the same air as he did because how does anyone breathe the same air as someone who violated their entire sense of self? She couldn’t remember everything and she could only guess that it was a kindness of her mind to forget. But Sendak needed to die.

Kei watched her, from the quiet of the hallway. Tomoe stood, shaking, the castle’s hostilities abated for the moment. “Tomoe, they called you Champion.”

“You called me Tomoe.” 

“Shiro, you’re more than just a weapon.” 

Voltron was a weapon. She was the head of Voltron. 

Losing Allura was unquestionably her own fault. It was. Nothing anyone said could convince her otherwise. It was her fault. She felt Kei at her side, trying to tell her otherwise. She almost broke. But it was on her. It was. 

It’s my fault it’s my fault Allura I’m so sorry Allura I should’ve never let this happen to you I should’ve. I should’ve. 

You lack faith in your friend.

We’re not friends. We’re not. I barely know her and now it’s my fault that she’s gone. She’s the last of her people and it’s my fault. It’s mine.

You wish for blame.

She almost snapped at Kei. She almost did. This is my failure I need to fix it Kei I can’t– Kei backed down. “Fine. We go together.” One of Kei’s hands reached out, flitting to Tomoe’s. She backed down after an instant. Dark eyes stared up at her. Tomoe felt death. She felt it looming. Waiting. If there was a god, if there was anything, she could let him punish her for it. Kei’s gaze cut clean through her. You see now. You see it? You see that I’m not worth it? I will only hold you back I’ll only get you killed and you will be lost because that’s what I do to people. “ Shiro . We’re going together. This isn’t just on you.” Kei what do you even see in me?

God was a man but Kei’s eyes were the closest she’d ever been to judgment and she felt like an abject failure. 

Zarkon. Zarkon was the emptiness that gnawed in her lion. The lion cried, the lion mourned, the lion wished he could be saved. Tomoe felt it pull, felt it reach out, felt it desperately seeking for a man that once was. And forgiveness for a man would always triumph over saving a woman. Tomoe felt it slip, fall out of her grasp. 

No. You are mine. But he must be too. I will not be denied . She grit her teeth, pain roaring through her head. 

Zarkon would take, and take, and take, and the lion could not help but give. The emptiness in them both cried out to be fed. The lion wanted him back, the lion wanted her, the lion wanted everything to work out. But it can’t . She saw the bayard that could’ve been hers. She saw it scraping against the metal of the ship, pulling her. I will not be denied. I will not. The lion roared in her head. 

“You are not worthy to pilot the lion.” She looked out at Zarkon, at this ancient man. At this man who took everything without even registering the want. He was a man. He would always be a man. Immortal or not. She took a deep breath. Opened herself up to the lion. I know you want. I want too. Come back to me when you can. He doesn’t want as we do. 

We are the same. 

And she nearly died and Kei saved her, vengeful, furious. Because if there was a god he was a man and he would kill Tomoe but Kei would stand between them always. Tomoe had never felt a faith so deep before, never believed in anything with the same certainty that she now knew Kei would always come for her.

It frightened her. You should not fear the red paladin. 

It’s not her that frightens me. It’s me.

That much is wisdom I will not deny you. And Zarkon let them go and they fell together and the witch. The witch. The witch is to blame . But was she really? Could she be? And as the lion fell in and out with her she could only think to cry out to Kei in her mind.

She was dying. She was going to die. She would’ve always died eventually but it was going to happen now and she couldn’t do anything about it and–

“Shiro? Shiro, are you there?”

She couldn’t die after all. She couldn’t because Kei wouldn’t let her. She felt her wound though, deep in her side, piercing, glowing, growing. There’s been so many close shaves . She felt something rattling as she breathed. Even if Kei saves me. It might be the end for me. When I die eventually. Surely this has sped that up. Surely. Or the monsters would get her first. The monsters would close in and–

“Focus. Patience yields focus.” Kei murmured to herself over the radio. Tomoe couldn’t help but smile, ruefully. Oh Kei, I’m sorry I pulled you out here.

“That really stuck with you, huh?” She heard Kei’s shuffling over the radio. It’s nice, to not be dying alone. Because dying was what she was always doing, but if she had to die with anyone she’d want it to be Kei, she needed it to be Kei.

“Without you, my life would’ve been a lot different,” Kei huffed. The guilt returned, pulling at the edges of her wounds, tearing them open. And 

“Yeah, you wouldn’t be galaxies away from home trying to save me from alien monsters and fighting an alien empire. So. You’re welcome,” she let herself laugh a little. How could you possibly be grateful for this?

“Shiro. I will always be glad you saved me.”

The monsters pressed in before Tomoe could deny it. She winced.

“Kei, I have company.”

She fought because that was all she knew how to do, she fought because that was who she was, she fought because though she was dying she couldn’t bring herself to die. Because Kei was coming. Because she knew Kei wouldn’t accept it. But the monsters pushed and pushed and pushed and the wound at her side pulled at her, over and over again. Kei I don’t know if I can do this anymore?

She will help you. 

Her lion roared in her head, Kei filling the emptiness if only for a moment. Tomoe gasped. The monsters dispersed. 

For a very brief moment, nothing hurt. 

“Shiro? I got your lion.” And Tomoe could feel the smile, could feel the relief, could feel everything. She felt– Oh. Is this what it’s like to be needed?

“How’s your wound,” Kei murmured, stoking the fire. 

“My wound’s great, it’s getting bigger all the time.” Tomoe grinned at the look of horror on Kei’s face. She let it fall when Kei stayed looking stricken. Kei came back to sit next to her, the two of them staring into the mauve sky, Kei on the side of Tomoe’s wound. 

Kei looked down at it, its violet glow reflecting in her eyes. They really were purple, huh? A choppy black clump of hair slipped off Kei’s shoulder and covered her eyes as she reached out, hand hovering. She pulled it back. Tomoe wanted to reach out and pull her friend’s hair back from her eyes. She looked at her own hair, matted, clumped, beyond repair. 

“Kei?” Kei’s head snapped up, hair falling away from sharp eyes. “If I ever don’t make it–” and she ignored the pained gasp that came out of Kei’s mouth, though it squeezed on her heart, “I want you to lead Voltron.”

“Don’t.” Kei looked away, playing with the ends of her hair. “Don’t talk like that.” 

“Kei. You can pilot my lion. You can do this. I believe in you. You can lead them. And I wouldn’t want anyone else to–”

“I couldn’t do any of that without you.” Kei closed her eyes. “And I won’t. We’re going to make it out of here. You’re going to be okay.” And Tomoe couldn’t bring herself to disagree with Kei anymore, but death kept whispering in her ear, calling her, telling her she’d escaped far too many times. She took a rattling breath, glowing wound growing by the moment. Magic was so awful, so cruel.

“Kei. When we get out of here, will you cut my hair?” Tomoe leaned against her friend. It all hurt too much. She wanted to start again. She really did. She wished she would have never done this to Kei. Kei, who relied on her. Kei, who she would be forced to abandon soon enough when death finally claimed her, in spite of Kei’s best efforts. She would do anything for me. How could I have done this to her?

“Anything.” Anything?  

It scared her, that certainty. It should . And it did.

Kei’s face would haunt her, she knew it. The flight instructor towering over her, pushing her against the wall of the simulator. She’d walked in right on time but still too late, far, far too late. She knew the Garrison had a tradition of sexual intimidation among everyone. The boys did it to the younger boys too, they did it to the few girls. Men. The language of men, always. But Kei slotting into it, it hurt Tomoe. I never wanted this for you , she thought. I just wanted you to fly. To be able to fly . But it was too late anyway.

Kei was so young. Barely sixteen, bony, eyes still too large for her skull. Tomoe felt old, jaded, gone. She couldn’t do anything to save the girl, could she? She couldn’t stop what happened to her from happening to someone else. What was the point then, what was the point of it all? She didn’t hit that flight instructor. She didn’t report it either. Because she and Kei both knew deep down that nothing would happen. That it would go on. That Kei was neither the first nor the last, and Tomoe was neither the first nor the last.

She didn’t touch Kei then. She just sat next to her on the floor, waiting for Kei’s breathing to even out from the choppy waves of panic. “What, am I disgusting now?” Kei spat out.

“Kei–”

“You won’t even look at me. Won’t touch me. Do you believe everyone else now too? Am I just fucking them to–” Kei’s voice cut off when Tomoe pulled her into a hug, 

“I was just waiting for you. I don’t want to be just another one of them to you.” She cradled the girl’s head. “I know I told you not to fight as much. To try to find me where you could. I need you to promise me, if anyone does that to you? Fight them. Fight them for all they’re worth. Bite if you have to.”

“You will too, right?” Tomoe couldn’t answer that.

She needed to talk to the other paladins. They were good kids, she decided. Painfully young, younger than Kei even, but good kids. They didn’t deserve to be out here for her mistakes. She ran a hand over her face. She needed to cut her hair. 

The healing pod left her feeling cold in her veins. It had fixed the glowing wound. It had not taken away the stench of death from her hair. Coran had smiled at her apologetically when she’d mentioned it, saying that since hair was dead cells, there was nothing the pod could do. She wanted it gone. She looked at the white shock, wishing it would just go away, and almost by magic, Kei was at the door.

“Hey.” Kei’s own hair was untidily pulled back into a ponytail, choppy bangs still covering her eyes. It was so much longer than the messy bob Tomoe remembered from her time before the Kerberos mission. Another thing she’d missed. 

“Do you want to cut my hair?” She smiled, guilt crawling in the base of her throat. 

“Do you want me to cut it?” One eyebrow raised, leaning against the doorframe. She’s taller now . She’d lost so much time. So much. “Shiro?” Kei’s brows knit together, head tilted to one side.

“Please.” She whispered. “I want it all gone.” She led Kei to the small bathroom in her room, a wall of a mirror behind a water dispenser, scissors placed on the cramped counter. Kei’s fingers stretched and recoiled into fists, hands moving from hovering over the scissors to over Tomoe’s hair. Nerves. Watching Kei out of her element felt voyeuristic. Kei rose on her tiptoes to assess the top of Tomoe’s head, straining. Tomoe crouched down and Kei let out a huff of laughter. 

“We should. Maybe find a chair or something.” Kei’s voice was quiet, but the laughter warmed Tomoe. She nodded, still feeling the guilt curled around her voice. Pulling a small stool, oddly round, from her room to the bathroom, she sat on it. Everything about the Altean bathroom felt off. Allura and Coran had adjusted as best they could, but the water dispenser and the counter and the big mirrored wall and the shape of every function was just wrong. Staring at the mirror, Tomoe watched Kei’s silhouette behind her. It had all changed so much. She couldn’t bring herself to miss the Garrison as it was, with the stares of the men and the thinly veiled hatred for Kei, and everyone hanging on her every word but eagerly waiting for her inevitable demise. She couldn’t miss it. 

But she mourned the loss of seeing Kei grow up, of taking on a role in her life that she would never be able to occupy now. She watched Kei, looking at the worry in her hands. “Shiro, I don’t really know what I’m doing. You’ve seen my hair. Are you sure you want me to,” she trailed off, hands hovering over the scissors, standing at Tomoe’s side.

“Kei, I need it to be you.” She shoved the words past the guilt’s teeth. “I don’t want anyone else to.” Kei stepped behind her, scissors in hand. And Tomoe felt relief rather than fear, meeting Kei’s eyes in the mirror. I trust you . Kei’s chest rose and dropped, breath trying to soothe trembling hands. 

“How much should I take off?”

“Do you remember Colonel Chen?” She watched as Kei froze. Tomoe’s hair had been long for as long as she’d known Kei. “That much.” There was something Kei was remembering. She could tell, read it the furrow of her brow and the distance of her eyes. 

“Tell me to stop whenever you have to.” And Tomoe nodded, but she knew she wouldn’t. She needed it gone. She needed Kei to help her cut it out, remove the rotten parts. She almost gasped when she felt gentle hands touch her scalp, the back of her neck, the sides of her ears. It had been so long since touch was easy. She wished it was easy again. But this felt almost human. Almost like she wasn’t a monster. “You’re more than just a weapon, Shiro.” She let her eyes flutter closed, shame weighing down her lashes as Kei cut away. It all felt lighter. 

She opened her eyes to see a much more even cut than the one Kei had given herself. Closer, though not military regulation. She was glad for the distance. She didn’t know her hair had much of any wave or curl before, the weight of its own volume keeping it from showing, but it did, slightly. She ran her fingers through it, white streak dispersed in the front. Kei was wringing her hands behind her, a nervous flush across her cheeks. Tomoe leaned back against her torso in her seat, smiling. Kei met her eyes, a tired smile finally creeping across her face. 

“Thank you, Kei.” She relished in the warmth.

“Whoa, Shiro, you cut your hair!”

“You look awesome.”

“ Damn , Shiro.”

“It looks lovely, Shiro.” 

“Glad you worked it out.” 

She stammered a thanks, looking over to Kei for help. Kei only shrugged from her corner of the room, arms crossed, but a small smile teasing at the corners of her lips. “You’re cool,” Kei mouthed at her. Tomoe tried to memorize it. She’d lost too much to lose this too. 

He kept finding them. Tomoe dreamed he killed her, over and over, and she couldn’t sleep. 

“I want to know them.” Kei had looked at her like she’d grown a second head. “Kei, come on, they’re our teammates.” Kei shrugged.

“I’ll get to know them if they want me to. I don’t need to be friends with everyone.” Tomoe laughed. She pulled Kei off the Altean gym mat, which both of them had concluded felt off , even if it was better at absorbing shock than the ones at the Garrison. “Shiro, I’m not good at the friends thing.” 

“Neither am I!” Tomoe laughed. Kei looked at her, baffled. Tomoe felt herself laughing more now. Lightness. It felt wrong in wartime, the guilt still gnawed, the emptiness still pressed at her. 

“You made friends with me and you’re telling me you’re bad at friends?” Kei grinned. She didn’t smile so much around the others. Tomoe couldn’t help but wonder how they’d react to the two of them combined. To Kei’s laughter, to her own humor, to lightness. She’d spent so long tucking it behind the veneer of leadership. 

“You were my only friend, you know?” She confessed. “Adam said he didn’t count and I was only ever sleeping with Claudia,” Kei looked at her, mouth agape. 

“But. Everyone loved you.” Kei insisted, playing with the end of her hair. “You were everyone’s hero.” 

“And nobody’s friend. Except for you, I guess.” 

“Hey, Shiro.”

“Pidge. I guess. I wanted to apologize to you. About Matt and your dad.” Pidge’s jaw clenched, soldering iron in hand. 

“Don’t. It’s not your fault. You saved Matt. Now I need to find him. And my dad. You didn’t ask to be abducted by aliens or anything.” Pidge looked up from her circuitboard, head tilted in consideration. “I always wanted an older sister. Matt said you were cool. I think you’re cool. Do you want to be mine?” Tomoe smiled. 

“I think you’re pretty cool too, Pidge”

Kei was, for all her discomfort, trying. She was. Tomoe could see it in the hesitance of her shoulders, in the fumbling of her fingers as she tried to talk to the others. Tomoe had never found small talk easy, she had only struggled to push past it to allow herself to be seen. Kei couldn’t do small talk. But she was trying. 

Kei and Pidge didn’t talk much, but Pidge let Kei sit at her table and occasionally gave her little mechanical oddities to fix, claiming Kei had steady hands and good eyes. Kei, on her part, made sure to actually walk Pidge through sparring. Tomoe couldn’t help herself. She was proud of Kei. She’ll be a good leader. When I’m gone, she’ll keep them together.  

“Pardon me Shiro, would it be alright if we had a conversation?” Allura’s accent felt so familiar, in all its alienness. She knew it was a translator, knew it was some sort of space technology she couldn’t understand. Maybe it understood what her associations of royalty were. Maybe. 

“Of course, princess.” Allura smiled. She was beautiful, unquestionably so. Otherworldly, she thought, imagining Kei’s groan. Kei was off though, training, or maybe helping Pidge in the machine room.

“I just wanted to ask. You are all from your planet Ground, yes?”

“Earth, yeah.” 

“Earth. Did you all know each other before? Everyone seems close.” We seem close? I feel like everyone but Kei is a stranger to me. “It’s just. Hunk and Lance and Pidge all seem to know each other so well and I can hardly ever find you without also finding Keith there and I suppose I. I just feel a bit alone in it all.” Oh. She’s. She’s like me.

“Well, I think Hunk and Lance and Pidge knew each other from before, for at least a year for Pidge. I knew Pidge’s dad and brother from my mission to Kerberos. Where I–” Tomoe winced, “got captured. So I guess there’s that connection, but I don’t know Hunk, Lance, and Pidge so well.” 

“I see,” Allura nodded. “Coran was my father’s advisor and trusted friend. He’s been almost like a father. But I look at you all as friends and I. I must confess, I miss my own.” 

“I’m so sorry, Princess. I know we could never replace what you’ve lost. But I would be honored to consider you a friend.” Tomoe smiled. Allura pulled her lips into a smile, eyes distant. 

“Thank you, Shiro.” Allura gave her a hug, tall and warm and firm. “I look forward to getting to know all of you.” 

“I’m sure everyone is excited to get to know you too. We know so little about Altea, about you, I’d love to hear about it.” Tomoe pressed.

“Altea is– was beautiful.” Allura walked with her to the ship’s observation room. The stars greeted them warmly. “Our planet was not as environmentally varied as others. Perhaps that’s why we took to the stars so early.” They looked out at the deep, dark, pool of stars. “I had my friends. Few of course, as I was a princess and we were expected not to show favoritism to most citizens.” 

Allura sat down, pulling her knees to her chest, and sighed. “I had so many things I wanted to change. The way we explored even, I took issue with. I so desperately wanted to become queen to abolish our monarchy. I loved my people. I would’ve died for them. I miss it all so much.” Tomoe looked over, startled to see tear tracks on her face. “I loved them. I wanted to fix it. Shiro, is it wrong for me to miss something that was so flawed?” 

“I think it’s what makes you real.” Tomoe sighed. She missed her parents, sometimes. She did. She missed the earth. In the arena she’d missed just about everything. “It was yours. I can’t tell you how to mourn.” 

“Have you lost someone, Shiro?” Tomoe sighed. 

“Not like that, no I haven’t.” She’d abandoned her family. Left Adam. Left Kei , left Kei to mourn her as Allura mourned her father. Tried to save Sam and Matt but failed. She hoped they were alive. But she had never lost someone as Allura had lost everyone . 

“You were the one lost, then.” Allura smiled at her, through her tears. “I’m glad they got you back.”

“I’m glad to have her back too.” She let it slip. Allura deserved to have a piece of her heart. It was the least she could do, after everything.

“Her? Meaning Keith?” 

“Yeah.” Tomoe looked down. It was hard, she thought, to explain everything that Kei meant. The collection of promises and dreams and the loneliness that they shared. The searing need, the burn to fly that they’d recognized in each other. “She’s known me for years.” 

“How did you meet?” Allura smiled widely, recognizing the gift for what it was. “I haven’t really gotten the chance to talk to Keith yet.” Kei. Her name is Kei. But that was Kei’s own and precious name. She couldn’t possibly surrender it without Kei there. Push came to shove, Kei was hers to protect. 

“She stole my car.”

And Tomoe laughed, for the first time with someone other than Kei, at the open shock on Allura’s face. 

“I didn’t realize just how young you Earthlings all are. You must mentally mature much faster than a lot of us starfarers.”

“I sometimes feel very old.” 

“Believe me. You’re young. I’m young, for an Altean. So you have to be young.” 

That symbol. She’d seen it before, she knew it. It felt. Familiar. Fighting him felt. Wrong. 

Ulaz had died. He’d died for them. He’d died and they didn’t want to trust him. She knew loss now. She knew it to her bones. How could someone lay down his life to save her and go untrusted? She’d snapped at Allura. She stormed out of the bridge, blood rushing through her head. You miss your people. You miss them and you hold that they were imperfect. Why can’t the others who die for us be what they are. And Zarkon was still finding them, over and over and over. And we’re arguing about someone who saved us.

“Shiro?” She felt a soft touch to her shoulder, and turned back to see Kei, hair down and covering her eyes. It felt odd, to see shame wearing her friend’s skin instead of her own. “Do you really think that some of the Galra can be good?” Tomoe frowned. There was something there. Talk to me Kei, what’s going on? She slouched, hunching, trying to meet her friend’s eyes. Kei kept avoiding her, violent eyes settling on anything other than her. “Is it possible any Galra went to Earth?” Tomoe banished the thought. There was something going on with her friend. She placed her hands on Kei’s shoulders, steadying her.

“Good people are always where you find them. No matter where they’re from.” Tomoe tucked a strand of Kei’s hair back behind her ear, Kei finally looking up at her, cheeks pink. “Ulaz saved my life. Zarkon is evil. They’re both Galra. My parents were awful to me. You’re my best friend. I think we’ve seen enough on Earth to know it’s always possible for individuals to be good.” No matter what. I think you’re good, Kei. I promise you. 

“Allura and–” It’d hurt. It had run through her veins like ice. She’s gone, she’s gone, she’s gone rang through her like a bell but she had to help the Taujeerians and she couldn’t just leave everyone but it coursed through her. Kei said she was fine but the instant she wasn’t she would drop the Taujeerians. She knew it in her core. She felt it. Is that wrong? Is that so wrong?

She almost cried with relief when Zarkon showed up to Taujeer instead. 

She wanted to yell at Kei. She so desperately wanted to yell at Kei after it all ended, after the Taujeerians escaped their planet, after she’d brought back their princess and a lion had come to her across space. She’d planned on it. Planned on lecturing her for the danger, for the risk, for everything. 

She took one look at Kei’s face after everyone else was done yelling at her. Lance, Hunk, Pidge, Coran, all taking their turns. All she could think of was Zarkon, finding her friend out in the emptiness of space. And he didn’t. He didn’t. 

It’s me. She took a deep breath. “Zarkon is tracking us through my lion. I’ll figure it out.” She set her jaw. I won’t let him get her. Kei looked at her, frown painted across her face. Tomoe nodded. “Can we talk,” she asked Kei. Kei nodded, and followed her to her room. 

She’s not a kid anymore. She can’t just be running off like that. She can trust me I would help her no matter what why ? “Why didn’t you tell me, Kei?” 

“I wasn’t thinking straight Shiro.” Kei snapped. “I’m just tired and I wasn’t thinking and it happened. Happy? Can I go? ” And Tomoe didn’t want to force her to stay because Kei looked like a live wire waiting to be set off but she couldn’t stop herself from grabbing Kei. Kei squeaked as Tomoe held her, squeezed her to her chest, one hand buried in tangled black hair. 

“I can’t lose you.” She’s here, she’s here, she’s here.

Kei looked stricken when she left Tomoe behind to go to the swap moon. But Tomoe had to do this. She squeezed Kei’s shoulder, trying to promise it would all be okay without saying it out loud because to say it would make it a real promise, one she wasn’t sure she could keep. Kei had gone, glancing back at her over her shoulder. 

I will show you. And she saw. She saw and she pulled until Zarkon was there. He was a man, wasn’t he? He would always just be a man, no matter the age. You can’t take what doesn’t want to go with you. She felt her lion cradle her. 

You’re mine. I cannot save what will not be saved. I can save you. She smiled. Her lion was beautiful. The astral plane was beautiful. How could Zarkon ever want to use this for anything cruel? How could he? The lion settled in her, roaring. You understand, then, why I am not to be used or taken.

I’m yours. And you’re mine in turn. 

Yes. 

Iverson had told her to give it up. That there was nothing that could be done. That she had to get used to it here, that she had to get Kei used to it. Everyone told her to just get used to it. It. “It.” A taboo around even naming what it was. The lingering poison, everywhere. The dark circles under the eyes of every female officer. The way they lost more girls after the first year than any other demographic. The way she herself had been made complicit in it.

She’d brought Kei here. A sheep leading a lamb to the slaughter. And Iverson had said there was nothing to do about it. That they’d come out of it stronger. “Look at you. You’re the best we’ve got now. Maybe that’s a part of it.”

Kei would’ve hit him. Tomoe couldn’t. She just couldn’t. It would never be worth it. We suffer for our sins to be redeemed, her mother’s voice echoed in her mind. Eve sinned first, Eve brought it to Adam, so we must do our penance. But this was never penance. She was not Eve. None of them were. So why them? Why like this? There was no redemption. There was shame and pain and disgust and fear. 

Eve could pay for her own sins, not Adam’s too. And Tomoe would not pay for either of them, nor would she force Kei to pay for hers. Her sins were her own. Hers. And she would take on Kei’s if only to keep her from feeling all of this, she would take on any sin to keep this all from Kei. She brought this child here. It was her fault. It was her.

“Keith’s a hothead!” 

“She’s coming with me and that’s final.” She couldn’t help but hear echoes of the Garrison. Maybe Kei wasn’t so far off with her assessment of Lance. Who else would she have taken? Her right hand, her family, no one else could’ve. Why can’t they see it? She’s brilliant and they can’t see it.

And she accepted it before Kei did, really, before it really sank in, because seeing them look at her knife, the knife she’d only glimpsed before, seeing all of the Blade of Marmora recoil, it told her all she needed to know. The look of fear on Kei’s face, Kei’s reaction to Ulaz, Kei running off on her own. Kolivan eyed her, tall and imposing. Are they all men too? They fought Kei. And she would never back down. Tomoe knew it. She knew Kei would never stop pushing. 

“At this moment, your friend desperately wants to see you.” And I want to see her. I won’t let you hurt her . She glared at him. All of this charade, and for what? For what? Ulaz had died, Kei was fighting for her life, and Kolivan stood there, implacable. A man. Always.

“Shiro. You’re like family to me. But I have to do this.” And Tomoe felt herself break as her false self yelled, snapped, stormed off. I would never, Kei, I would never. I could never.

She saw Kei chase after her false self. And she saw Kei’s father. And she saw the look on Kei’s face, the horror, the pain, the fear, and she decided then and there that she couldn’t let this stand and the red lion roared with her, insistent, burning, rapid. You say it is enough. I agree . 

Damn the alliance. Damn them all. I need to get to Kei. She needs to be safe, she needs to be okay, I’ll kill you all if I have to–

But there was Kei and she was awake and that was everything that mattered and– “I know who I am. It doesn’t matter. We need this alliance more than anything.” She held Kei up, hunched, bleeding, drying tears and blood on her face. “Just take the knife. I know who I am.” She met Tomoe’s gaze. 

Oh. She’s a woman, isn’t she? Because this couldn’t possibly be a child anymore. 

The knife agreed. And Tomoe watched this woman who she’d known as a girl break, bow to a man who had shattered her world. Agree to an alliance with him while Tomoe fumed, angry, wanting to yell, cry out, break him for what he’d done to her friend. But Kolivan looked back at Kei, a faint respect present in his yellow eyes as he helped her to the lion that wanted him dead just moments ago. Tomoe didn’t speak to him, arm across Kei’s shoulders even in the cockpit. She couldn’t. Kei may forgive you. I don’t know if I can just yet . 

“I don’t know how I can tell them,” Kei whispered, eyes fixed on the castle from her seat, hands steady as ever on the controls.

“Just heal. I’ll take care of it,” Tomoe whispered back. Finally, Kei relaxed. Leaned into Tomoe’s arm. Her breath still came in shaky, weak. Afraid. 

“ Thank you .” 

She wasn’t used to anger like this. It rattled at her ribcage, gripping her spine. It slid onto her tongue. How could they? Because Kei was in a healing pod, Kei wasn’t here, Kei couldn’t even say anything and they were ready to throw her away. All for something she hadn’t even known, couldn’t bear any responsibility for. Couldn’t possibly affect anything about her. She stared at Allura, searching her eyes. You ran off with her. How do you not know her? How couldn’t you see her? She hasn’t changed. She’s who she’s always been. 

She was shaking. 

“Shiro, it’s just that this is kind of a big thing to drop on everyone,” Lance tried. She scowled at him. “I mean we barely know the gal and now she’s a Galra.”

“ I know her. I trust her. She’s a paladin. She hasn’t changed.” She stormed off. 

Adam had asked her out when they were both in their fourth year at the Garrison, when they were both adults. He’d been her friend, sort of. They worked on homework together, ate meals together. She’d always been friendly to everyone, mindful of the whispers of cheating, of the whispers of sleeping with her instructors. She knew everyone was waiting for her to mess up. So she’d be perfect. 

She’d said yes. She heard her mother’s voice echoing in her head, asking if she wanted to be a man when she’d joined the Garrison. Perhaps she simply wanted to be with a man. (And even deeper in the corners of her mind, had been herself at nine years old, telling her mother she liked a girl at school, and being told she was just confused. “Tomoe dear, female friendship, sisterhood, that’s all it is. It’s just deeper than anything can be with a man.” Tomoe had agreed then. Would she still agree now?) 

She stared hollowly at the healing pod. “Please. Wake up, Kei.” 

“Zarkon was Alfor’s dear friend, once.” She almost jumped at Coran’s voice. “That aside, I certainly counted many friends among the Galra.” He smiled at her, “I cannot believe all of those friendships were falsehoods. A systemic failure. Indoctrination. Anything is more believable than the idea that it was all impossible.” Tomoe nodded, daring to hope against hope. “I have seen the two of you. That bond transcends whatever your birth status may be. Allura will come around. She’s young, she’s afraid, I’m all she has left. The rest of the paladins will too, I’m sure of it.” Coran turned, walking toward the exit. “I’ll make sure she has some privacy. She’ll be waking up any moment.” 

And they were alone when Kei woke up, stumbling out of the healing pod. Tomoe hugged her, held her tight. “I’m so glad you’re awake.” She felt Kei shifting below her hands, and pulled back.

“Shiro? You didn’t leave?” Oh the suit. The visions. Oh Kei, I won't leave you again.

“There’s nothing you could do or be  to make me leave.” She ran a hand through Kei’s hair, the two of them wincing when it caught on knots. “I’ll always be here for you. I promised.” 

“Shiro, will you,” Kei tucked herself back into Tomoe’s arms, eyes screwed shut. “Will you help me untangle my hair?” Tomoe nodded.

“Do you want to come back to my room, or do it here?” She knew Kei’s room lacked a bathroom, the other paladins being given a communal one she knew Kei would want to avoid. 

“Your room,” Kei mumbled, face buried in Tomoe’s shoulder. “Don’t wanna see anyone. Should apologize to them. I didn’t know.” Tomoe rubbed her shoulder, holding her tight. “I didn’t know. I just wanted to know. I didn’t think.”

“You don’t owe them anything.” Tomoe pulled her against her side, walking slowly, gingerly back to her room. “You haven’t changed at all.” They walked, side by side, Kei curled against her side. Please don’t have the other paladins show up. I don’t want them here. 

“Oh. Hey, Keith! Glad you’re doing better. I actually have something I was working on in the kitchen for you!” Both of their heads whirled to see Hunk, coming out of his own room. He smiled, somewhat nervous but he’s good. He’s trying. She met his eyes, Kei still frozen at her side. Hunk glanced over at Kei, looked back at Tomoe, and smiled. He nodded, “Shiro, you guys heading back to her room, or yours? Just so I know where to bring the food over.” 

“Mine.” Tomoe said, feeling more naked than she had in years. Hunk smiled, nodded, and turned back.

“Wait, Hunk?” Kei’s voice rasped from the pod, and Hunk turned back to them, polite smile still on his face, nerves still clear across broad shoulders. “Thanks.” 

Hunk eased. “No problem, Keith.” He smiled broadly, easy. It reached his eyes. Tomoe had never been more grateful for him before. Kei’s shoulders slumped, ease returning, slowly. Tomoe got her back to her room, sat her on the bed. She’d never seen Kei so still before. She didn’t wear it well. It looked sickly on her. 

“Come on. Let’s get your hair all fixed up.” She pulled a brush from her bathroom, still the wrong shape, these Altean tools, it all feels wrong , and sat next to Kei on the bed. “It’ll be okay. They’ll all come around.” Kei sighed.

“Y’know, my pop never left any writing or anything behind. Never told me anything about my ma.” She laughed, bitter, hoarse. “Guess now I know why.” She let Tomoe work the brush through a section of hair, wincing as it caught.

“Kolivan is still around. I figured you wouldn’t want him to go, you worked so hard to get them on our side, but,” Tomoe took a deep breath, pulling through a knot, “I’m just so mad at him.” Kei looked at her, head tilted, half of her hair unknotted. She took the brush from Tomoe’s hand, holding it in her lap.

“What happened to you there,” Kei asked. Tomoe sighed. She reached out to Kei’s shoulder, feeling silky black hair beneath her fingers. She idly braided and unbraided the section.

“Kei, I just. He called Ulaz a fool. Ulaz saved us. He saved me twice. He let you suffer in there instead of just telling you what they knew. They knew from the moment you walked in there. And he just watched you in there with that, with that thing wearing my face saying things I would never say to you, letting them try to kill you, and I just couldn’t do anything and he was just fine with all of it and–” Kei grabbed her hand, which had been toying with Kei’s hair, moved it down to her other hand on her lap with the brush. She carefully placed the brush back into Tomoe’s fingers, clasping her hands around them.

“I think this alliance is important and they’ve been fighting alone for a while. I get them not trusting me immediately.” Kei shrugged, a small smile on her face. “Most people don’t.” 

Tomoe shook her head. “You deserve better than that.” Kei looked at her, touched the edge of her scar, feather light.

“You’re enough.” 

“You’re impossible oh my god–” 

“I’m not impossible because then I would not exist in this reality.”

“Well can you move in this reality?”

“But there’s those cracks there and if I step on them I will break my mother’s back!”

“Wait, what ? That superstition exists out here?”

“ Superstition? You’re a stupid girl or what? It’s very real they cause microtears in the reality that will in other realities result in breaking your mother’s back! ”

“Well! That’s fine with me! Let’s move.” 

I never want to see this stupid alien again . 

The first time a man at the Garrison had tried to have his way with her, she was fifteen. Fifteen, taller than her peers, she’d looked older. Or so he claimed. It was an end of term party, he was clearly older than her by a good margin. She’d still been in her cadet uniform. He’d stared at her the whole night, stared at her chest in the cadet uniform, stared at her shoulders and back and legs. 

He’d approached her, drink in hand, touched her. She’d backed away, eyes wide, afraid. A drunk flush across his face, a stark disappointment. She hadn’t realized that this could– she hadn’t known. 

“Oh come on,” he’d slurred, hand on her ass, pulling her in. She ran. Ran out of  the party, ran back to her room, threw open the window and stuck her head all the way out, gasping, shuddering breaths wracking through her ribcage. Why did things she didn’t even do have to come to get her? What sin was she supposed to atone for with this? 

“Thanks, Lance. Glad we brought our sharpshooter.” And she tried not to feel a sense of guilt well up when he looked genuinely overjoyed at her acknowledging him. Oh, Lance. I owe you an apology. I’ve meant to talk to you but. But nothing. She hadn’t. 

“Yup.” Lance grinned. She couldn’t help but laugh. It was hard to be angry. He wasn’t a bad kid. He was just. Young. So young. In a way she and Kei hadn’t been at his age. 

I hope he keeps that , she couldn’t help but think. 

She watched cautiously as Allura pulled Kei aside. Kei crossed her arms, black hair stark against white armor. And something in Kei’s face broke, she couldn’t hear what Allura was saying, but she saw Allura pull Kei in for a hug. There was still anger there, but a small bloom of hope pushed through nonetheless. Thank you, Allura . 

She listened as Hunk and Lance and Pidge talked about returning to Earth, hopeful, excited. She looked at Kei’s profile, dark eyes fixed on the horizon of Olkarion. They really did seem so violet sometimes.

“I guess I could go try to find my mother.” Kei shrugged. She looked over at Tomoe, waiting for something. Tomoe couldn’t figure out what she was waiting for. She didn’t have anything to go back to. She’d left everyone long before Kerberos. And Kei was here. With her. She’d die up here. She felt it. Either from the disease taking its toll or from Zarkon. It rang through her like a bell.

I’m going to die up here. I can’t go back to Earth. Because if she went back even if nothing went wrong she’d be locked in a hospital forever and she. She couldn’t go back. She stared at Kei’s eyes, the fading alien sun over a distant planet, the constellations in the sky she’d never seen before coming here. I can’t go back. 

I will die up here. With her. With them. In the stars.

It all fell apart. It was always going to. And death called her, beckoned her, pleaded with her. She didn’t want it. She couldn’t. She took the bayard from Zarkon, she fought, she raged. But she couldn’t stop it. It wanted her desperately.

I want you more. 

The astral plane was beautiful, the Black Lion of Voltron loved her, and Tomoe Shirogane was dead. There was no god, there was no hell, her sins remained with her, but her death was still not her own.

Chapter Text

“ Shiro? Shiro?” 

“She’s gone, Keith.”

“I’ll find her.” 

“I found you.” And it was her she could feel it she felt the movement but it wasn’t, like moving through water. Sluggish. Dead. A homunculus wandering the universe. But Kei was there and alive and holding the creature. 

“Kei, good luck out there,” the creature said. She wanted to cry out. Wanted Kei to stay. Touch her. Bring her back to her body. Or the creature’s body. But she was dead and Kei was gone and the lion let her through to the clone but it couldn’t keep her there and it kept pushing her back, and back, and back.

“Lance. Lance. Listen to me. ” But he couldn’t stay, could he? And he slipped through her fingers. Every second.

The body was like holding a fistful of fine powder. The more she tried to hold it, the more it slipped away. 

Kei. Kei, where are you? Kei had vanished and no one seemed to care and no one seemed to want to look and the creature wearing her face was staring at her when she came back and she wanted to hit the creature for how her eyes darted to the changes to Kei’s appearance. Years. But her clone hadn’t been there for years. Time broke and Kei had grown without her and the creature gazed with a hunger Tomoe didn’t want to believe could fit within her body.

Was it her body?

It was fighting Kei and Kei’s eyes, her face, her posture all screamed pain. Pain she was causing. It was her fault. It was her death and her body and her and she would scream if the body would even respond to her. The clone. The creature. The witch’s puppet.

“Tomoe. You’re my family. I love you.”  

And she shoved through the creature to stare at Kei, to give the woman who was her friend a moment of respite. But she was gone all too soon, all she could hear was her lion roaring in her ears.

“I died, Kei.” And she wanted to touch, to hug Kei, to feel something of her own, not filtered through the creature, not hollow in the lion, but she couldn’t. And Kei stood there, made of the same stars as the ones in the astral plane, beautiful, taller, older. A sharp scar traced over her cheek, and it was Tomoe’s fault. 

“Shiro. No. Shiro?” But it all faded, all gone again. And all she could do was drape herself over Kei, push her forward, beg the lion for help. 

You are both mine. You will always be mine. But to live, I must leave you. You see that, right? 

I am so grateful to you. Thank you, for letting me be useful.

It is not the use. You are good. You are who you are. But I must let you live. Go home to her. The princess will take you. I will be there for you through her, if you wish.

Tomoe took her first shuddering breath in a body that was and was not hers. She couldn’t feel her lion anymore. She felt Kei’s arms, the ground, the air coursing through her lungs, and tears welling up in her eyes. Kei. She’d died and she was alive and Kei was holding her tight and she’d lost years and years and years and she would die anyway. She would die anyway and Kei had crossed the whole universe to save her. What a waste, Kei .

But Kei just held her tighter, eyes wet with tears. “It’s good to have you back.” Tomoe was a weak woman. Let me have this. Please. For just a moment.

“It’s good to be back.” And the others were there and she knew they’d see it in her eyes in the way she curled into Kei’s touch in the tone of her voice. She couldn’t bring herself to care. Kei had done everything for her. I love you, I love you, I love you rang through her head. I don’t deserve you. You’re beautiful. What did I ever do to make you love me?

The castle was gone and they had to go back to Earth. Tomoe had never thought she’d see it again. Tomoe had never planned on seeing it again.

Kei slumped down beside her  in the corner of the lion’s cockpit. “I can’t sleep,” she admitted, pulling her knees into her chest. Tomoe smiled wryly. 

“I can’t either. Then again I’ve slept plenty already, I think.” Kei let out a distressed groan.

“Your sense of humor is awful,” she said, leaning up against Tomoe. “I missed you so much.” Unflinchingly honest. Always.

“Tell me about where you spent those two years for you?” Tomoe let her cheek rest on the top of Kei’s head. Taller than she had been, but still not very tall. She’d really come back different. Taller, sure, but Kei wore the age well. Tomoe noted her own white hair in her peripheral vision. She wears it better than me . Kei would be, what, 22? 23 now? 

“Well. Kro– my mother. My mother and I got stuck on a space whale.” Kei’s mouth twisted around a bitter smile. “It feels weird calling her my mother.” Kei sighed. “I spent two years with her. More than that. I don’t know. I was so mad at her for leaving for all those years and she did it to protect me.”

“But she still left.” Tomoe sighed. “ I still left.”

“Shiro,” Kei’s voice cracked. “You’ve always come back.”

“You always brought me back.” Tomoe closed her stinging eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“ Don’t . Don’t apologize. You’ve been there for me. Always.” Kei took her hand, clasped it in hers. “You’re the only one who has.” Tomoe felt Kei’s cold fingers on her hand.

“You should've had more. More than I could ever give.” Tomoe’s body felt heavy. She’d forgotten what feeling sleep creep in felt like in the lion.

“You’re everything I needed.” Kei yawned. “Krolia. I mean my mother. Whatever. She likes you. She saw you in my memories.” As if that was the most casual thing in the world. 

“Your memories?”

“On the space whale. There were these flashes. We saw our pasts and futures.” The future? “I saw you a lot.” Kei’s eyelids kept dropping. “Saw my pop there again. It’s nice to remember his voice.” She ran her hands through the ends of her hair, wincing as they caught on a tangle. It was so much longer than Tomoe remembered it. “I saw our fight.” Sleepiness slipped from her fingers and shattered on the floor.

“I–”

“I would do it again.” Kei murmured, head still firmly nestled against Tomoe’s shoulder and neck. Tomoe’s breath caught in her throat, the quiet rasp of Kei’s voice, the closeness, the way Kei still wouldn’t let go of her hand. “ I love you.” Tomoe let her other hand float toward the scar on Kei’s cheek, angry, red, cutting across pale skin towards a dark eye.

“Kei,” Kei lifted her head off of Tomoe’s shoulder, sinking into the touch. I don’t know what we’re doing anymore. What are we? Family. And the Earth loomed in her mind, mocking her. You abandoned everyone here, you know. What will you say when you come back alive? “I’m.” She swallowed hard. “I never planned to go back to Earth and now I don’t know what to do.” It all fell out of her mouth, thumb worrying over the edges of Kei’s scar.

Kei’s whole position looked remarkably uncomfortable, curled and twisted around Tomoe’s side. “When we go back, if you ever want to leave, say the word. I’ll break you out again.” 

“Kei, you shouldn’t.” But she felt her lips pushing upward regardless. “You can’t abduct me, you’re an alien. Think of the scandal!” Kei’s laughter came lazily, meandering.

“Of course that’s what you would think of.” She let her head drop back onto Tomoe’s shoulder. “You know, they had a funeral for you. Your parents came. They were really mad they weren’t your next of kin and some strange girl was.” Tomoe froze.

“I– who told them?” She heard the choking in her voice. Felt it. In the body, in the throat, in the vocal cords.

“I don’t know. No one ever told me. I could’ve asked Adam, I guess, but,” Kei’s face turned red. “We weren’t exactly on good terms then.”

“What happened?” Tomoe moved her hand to Kei’s hair, working fingers through the long, soft strands.

“He believed it was a pilot error. Kerberos.”

“And?”

“I believed in you.” 

“It’s nice to meet you, Shiro.” Tomoe froze. “May I call you Shiro?” Krolia. Kei’s mother. Her voice sounded like her daughter’s. Tomoe turned to see an alien. But she could see Kei, in the angles of her face, in the sharpness of her shoulder and legs. Krolia was taller, and purple, but Kei looked so like her it hurt. So Kei’s eyes are her father’s? 

“You may.” She couldn’t quite forgive Krolia for leaving her daughter behind. She couldn’t forgive herself for it either. “Your daughter is the reason I’m alive right now. I guess I should thank you.” It came out harder than she meant it. Krolia’s face fell. 

“I think the credit is yours. I came to thank you . For everything you did for her while I couldn’t. I’m immensely grateful she had your help.” Tomoe crossed her arms. Nice words I suppose. If only I cared about nice.  

“We helped each other.” Your daughter has done everything for me. I wish I could’ve done the same for her.

“You have both seen far too little kindness in your lives.” Krolia sighed. “In part thanks to my own actions. I am glad, then, that you have each other.” Tomoe’s jaw hurt from how hard it clenched. “I had to leave Kei behind once. I do not intend to do so again without knowing I can return.” Krolia’s eyes were distant, glancing at the cockpit of the lion, where Kei was piloting. “I love her. I don’t know her. I am sorry for that.” I know her. I’ll always know her. Tomoe’s certainty warmed her chest. 

Where Zethrid and Ezor had shaken Kei, where Acxa left Tomoe feeling out of sorts and uncomfortable, Macidus sank down into the gaps. Tomoe watched, trapped, stuck. Useless. Useless . And Kei was shaking as Allura held her firmly by the shoulders, and led her to Tomoe. 

She must have killed before, right ? But Tomoe didn’t know and she knew she had killed before, killed to live, killed and been killed herself. So she took Kei’s shaking body into her arms, dark eyes farther than they’d ever been. You fight so much. So often. But you’re not a killer. Not like I am. And the shame of it all crept around her neck. Kei was good, deep down, to the core of her. Shaking in Tomoe’s arms, horrified to have killed.

She tried to not resent Krolia too much, for leaving them again. But she did. She did because Kei had barely spoken since killing Macidus and Krolia was all too happy to leave her again. Kei hadn’t felt this small, this afraid, since Tomoe had met her. She pulled Kei back to her lion, tucked against her side, and set to work trying to clean a gash she’d not seen Kei get in her side. 

Kei slumped against her, eyes unfocused. “I don’t think I can do this anymore, Shiro.” Her whisper sounded louder than anything else, the silence of the still lion suffocating.

“Kei,”

“I can’t.” And she curled further against Tomoe, gripping her hands. Tomoe stroked Kei’s hands with her thumbs, Kei warm and human beside her. “I didn’t– I couldn’t–”

“You didn’t realize he would really die until he did.” Tomoe let go of one hand, cradling Kei’s head, running her hands through her hair. “I know. I didn’t either, at first.”

Kei let out a shuddering sigh. “I have killed other people before. I think. This was the first time I knew for sure. I don’t– it was always so easy to fight before.” 

“Kei, can you promise me something?” Kei’s dark eyes flicked up to Tomoe’s, beautiful, deep, intense. 

“What?”

“I need you to live. Always. I don’t care how hard it is. Fight.” 

“Promise me the same.” Kei glared up at her. “Don’t make me live without you again.” Tomoe felt her breath catch. I love you died in her throat, barely formed. Because Kei was beautiful but Kei was hurting and there was no reason for Tomoe to put that on her now, both of them in pain and upset, but Kei, I love you, I couldn’t live without you, how did you do that without me? 

“I’ve died more than enough,” Tomoe grinned wryly. But then she remembered. Maybe she just hurt everywhere from a lack of rest, maybe she’d forgotten about her disease. But not anymore. “Kei, I just. I don’t want you to– I still have my disease.”

“We’ll find a way to fix it.” Kei snapped. “We’re in space . There’s got to be a way. You told me then I couldn’t give up on myself. Don’t be a hypocrite.” She pressed her forehead to Tomoe’s. “I promise. We’ll find something.” 

“And if we don’t?” Tomoe breathed out.

“Then I’m with you to the end. Every second.” Kei buried her head in Tomoe’s shoulder, Tomoe did the same to her. Kei was warm. Still sharp, but with a softness to her touch, fingers digging into Tomoe’s scalp. Tomoe let her hands grip Kei’s sides. She could feel her ribs. She wished she couldn’t.

“Will you ever tell them your name?” She toyed with Kei’s hair. It was so much longer now. She felt Kei shift, turning her head on her shoulder.

“I think they know. I don’t know if I want to tell them straight up. Everything gets all tangled up in Voltron.” Kei sighed. “I get along better with them now. I think.” Tomoe smiled.

“You’re a great leader. I’ve seen you with them.” Tomoe pulled back from the hug, squeezing Kei’s shoulder. 

“I’m not. But I’m trying.” She shrugged. “Lance is helpful, I guess. He’s a lot nicer now that he doesn’t think we have a weird one-sided rivalry. I think he likes Allura?”

“Heh. Yeah.” Tomoe grinned. “I think we all do silly things when we have a crush on a girl.” Tomoe looked down at Kei, feeling her face warm as Kei’s turned pink. 

“I, uh, I used to mess around with his sister.” 

“Veronica is his sister?” Tomoe grinned. She’d never met the girl, but she remembered Adam’s horror upon seeing her with Claudia that night long ago. “Unless you got another girlfriend while I was away?”

“We were never–” Kei shook her head, face red. “It was just for fun. She said she wanted to practice and I hadn’t kissed anyone before and it was fun. That was it!” Kei’s voice pitched up as she buried her face in her hands. “This is so embarrassing.” 

“Hey, I missed out on years of this. I missed your messy romance phase! I’m ready to go back to Earth and meet all your spurned lovers. They’ll be jealous that we whisked you off into space.” Tomoe grinned, ruffling Kei’s bangs. Kei shook her head, laughing.

“As if. They’d be jealous of me if anyone. Have you seen yourself?” Tomoe looked away, feeling her face warm.

“Have you seen yourself,” she deflected. Kei’s face flushed, and suddenly Tomoe realized they were touching, everywhere and. She glanced at Kei’s lips. 

“Keith? Keith, are you there? Romelle has a question!” Allura’s voice crackled over the comms system. Kei exhaled, face red. She took one last look at Tomoe, eyes not meeting Tomoe’s, but a point further down her face. 

Earth was beautiful.

Earth was conquered. 

James Griffin. James Griffin was alive. And he was staring at Kei and Tomoe wanted his eyes off of her. Now. “Griffin. Who’s in charge here?” She barked. Kei’s head snapped back around to her. It had been a while, hadn’t it? Since Tomoe took charge like that. She could almost feel Kei’s surprise, pricking at her neck.

“Shiro?” His whole team looked like they’d seen a ghost. Well , she supposed, I guess I am a ghost . “I mean. Officer Shirogane. Sir.” They all snapped to a salute, and Tomoe could feel Kei’s smile under her helmet. “It’s good to see you’re alive.” She frowned. Had they really not told anyone she’d been kept at the Garrison?

“Good to be alive, cadet. Is there anywhere more secure we can get briefed on the situation?” Take me to your leader, Tomoe thought. She’d always enjoyed a cheesy alien invasion movie. Kei squinted at her, corners of her lips twitching. Hey. I’m the alien, Kei seemed to think in her direction. 

“You can go again.” Her gaze snapped up to the uniformed officer. “You had a good start. Try again, now that you know how it works.” 

And she set a record. 

“See. Told you you had a good start. You’ll do great things with us.” He put a hand on her shoulder. “It’s always good to see talented girls come to us. We’ll make a good soldier out of you.” She thought that was better than what her parents wanted from her. She thought it was better than being the sick girl. The stars weren’t there in the sky right now, but they would be back soon, for her, and she’d reach them.

Kei shrank further and further behind Tomoe as they neared the Garrison, particle barrier looming in front of them, the same old buildings cloaked in an extraterrestrial glow. Tomoe stared up at it. 

“Don’t touch me.” 

“I won’t. I never will, if you don’t want me to.”

She looked over at Kei, squeezed her shoulder. “You ready?” Kei looked up at her, eyes distant. She turned away from the Garrison, tracing over the desert.

“Never have been. Let’s go.”

Commander Iverson had been the one to recruit her seriously. Tomoe had wanted it, he’d been the one she’d reached out to. He’d mentored her. He’d let them strap her to a table when she got back, sticking needles into her body, and told them it was necessary. He’d decided that. And he had never cared for Kei. What did they do to you, while I was gone? The scar she’d made stretched over Kei’s cheekbone, flirting with her bottom lashes. Kei looked at her out of the corner of her eyes, dark, orange light from the particle barrier reflecting on deep purple. Commander Iverson eyed them suspiciously. Eye jumping back and forth between them. 

She could practically feel Kei’s glower. But Tomoe, Tomoe knew herself well enough. “Commander Iverson. It’s good to see you well.” 

“Officer Shirogane. Welcome back. No quarantine for you this time I suppose?” Kei bristled beside her. Tomoe caught Lance and Hunk’s matching winces as Pidge went to hug her mother and father. 

“No, sir. I’m afraid not. Voltron is here to help you as needed.” Tomoe felt a grin creeping at the corners of her mouth. “In fact, its leader is right here,” she squeezed Kei’s shoulder, pulling her forward. Iverson’s dismay was almost impossible to not smile at.

“Tomoe?” She’d never heard Adam sound afraid like that before. She stared at him, his face drawn, tired. He looked older, especially in the cold light of the hallways. Still had the same glasses. “You’re really alive?” Something in his face crumpled. “You and Keith? You’re both okay?” 

“I don’t– I don’t know if okay is the word I’d use, Adam. But we’re alive.” She gestured to the empty space where her arm used to be. “You guys aren’t okay either.” 

“No. We’re not.” Adam sighed, dragging a hand over his face. “I almost died during the first wave of the invasion. Only thing that kept me alive was the fact that my connections to you and your stray made me ‘untrustworthy for primary clearance,’ so, thanks for that I guess.” He rolled his eyes. “She went and grew up out there. You look younger. I don’t know what that says about this place.” 

“I–”

“You looked for all the world here like you were carrying a death sentence and the world on your shoulders. You came back a silver fox, admittedly, but you look lighter .” Adam shrugged. “I was going to ask if you were worried about Ramos, but I guess you weren’t really.” Tomoe winced. 

“She’s okay, right? I feel awful. I almost completely forgot.”

“She’s fine. Felt awful when you died. Or well, didn’t die. But we all thought you did. Transferred to another Garrison base, is working with one of the resistance groups overseas now.” Adam’s lips pulled into a thin line. “We don’t talk much.”

“Sorry. About that.” Adam raised an eyebrow. 

“You should ask your shadow about what happened if she hasn’t told you. It was all,” he took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose, “all rather ugly.” Tomoe felt a familiar old anger and guilt crawl into the pit in her stomach together.

“I’m asking you.” She didn’t snap. Didn’t reach it. But neared it, comfortably. “Adam. Kei–Keith was a kid when I disappeared. Come on. What happened?”

Adam took a deep breath. “Let’s go sit somewhere more private. I don’t think it’s a great idea to talk this out in public.” 

“They called her your dog when you disappeared. She’d snap at everyone. Insist it was clearly not a pilot error. In retrospect, of course she was right, and we should’ve known if anyone could get a clear assessment of what was possible for you as a pilot it’d be the only person who could beat you. But, no one wanted to think about it like that, and she wouldn’t shut up about it when anyone said anything.” Adam handed Tomoe a cup of tea, the apartment that used to be theirs so different in a hundred small ways. “Iverson kept trying to tell her to cool it. Didn’t work, so he got me and Ramos to try. Keith and I were, well, awkward, but fine at first, she and Ramos weren’t. She accused Ramos of trying to pretend to know you when she didn’t. Not really realizing Iverson put her in that position to begin with.” 

Adam sighed, eyes distant. “I didn’t say anything to her about Iverson. I should’ve. I think she would’ve reacted better to that than to how we tried to hide it all. Ultimately she blew up at me too. Told me I clearly didn’t believe in you. Well, I didn’t. I’m sorry for that. I’m not sorry for trying and failing to hold her back. Iverson called her a bitch the day she finally ran for good. Said she was always your bitch and if she wouldn’t heel to anyone else she was good as dead to us.” Tomoe’s hands clenched around the cup. 

“Did you even say anything to him about it?” She bit out.

“What would I even say? Tomoe, you know how they talked about you. And they liked you. They never liked Keith. She’s never been protected here by anyone but you. Iverson is one of them as much as any of them. You think Sergeant Miller was saying anything about her? I’m not better than anyone just because you were fucking me at one point. It was already bad enough to play point of contact for my dead ex-girlfriend. You think it wasn’t also hard on me? No one was equipped to handle that.” He crossed his arms, scowling. “Talk it out with her. I’m glad you’re alive. I’m glad you have each other. But I’m not about to pretend it wasn’t ugly just because you’re both alive now.”

“I’m sorry you went through that Adam. I really am.” She pressed her lips together, white hair falling into her eyes again. Maybe Kei would cut it for her. “I’m just. I missed so much. I couldn’t be there for her for so much. And then, no one else was either.” 

“Was anyone there for you?” Adam frowned. “I thought you were up there together?”

“I. I lost time. I died and. It’s complicated but I got stuck in the consciousness of a magic robot lion? And I was also cloned? For like a year? And Kei spent another two years on top of a space whale in a fold of spacetime so no time passed for the rest of us?” She winced. Adam tilted his head to one side, brow and nose wrinkling. 

“I’m glad I didn’t go to space,” he deadpanned, sipping his own cup of tea for the first time. “So what’s stopping you then?” 

“Stopping me from what?” She frowned. He stared at her, mouth fully agape. She frowned, annoyed. What was so obvious to him, then?

“Tomoe. I should get used to calling you Shiro, really, we’re not anything now. You lost a year, she gained two, you’ve both spent about as much time apart as you’ve spent together, you can’t possibly tell me it’s the age or the now nonexistent power dynamic stopping you.” 

“Stopping me from what ?” 

“Tom–Shiro. You’re in love with that girl. She’s loved you for ages. God knows I know what I’m looking at.” Tomoe felt fire fly up to her face. She looked away from Adam, couldn’t face him in this. “Don’t look like that. Everyone knew she loved you then, even if you didn’t. Puppy love. But you come back from space with matching scars, you’re looking back at her every two seconds. Don’t pretend I’m dumb. I know what you looked like when you loved someone. That’s how we both knew it was over. What’s stopping you? You look like a kicked puppy every time she’s not near you.” 

“Adam.” She rested her elbows on his kitchen table, letting her face fall into her hands. “She saved me. Over and over again. She said I’m her family. I owe her everything. I owe her more than I could ever give her back. If she wanted me I would be hers, no questions asked.”

“Sure. Tell yourself that. Wait forever because it lets you deny everything to yourself that you want, which you love to do.” He stood up, guided her to his door, dismissal clear as day on his face. “You don’t have to suffer just because you feel like something is wrong with you. You’re just fine as you are.” He pulled a face as he gently pushed her into the hallway. “I’m your ex and I’m saying that. You’re not so bad.”

“Adam, you’re pretty great too.” She smiled at him. The corners of his mouth dropped, and he shut the door. She glanced down at the space where her arm used to be. At the absence of her muscle stimulators. At the ends of her white hair. At legs stronger than they’d ever been. Too much had changed to still be the same, hadn’t it? 

She eyed Iverson in the meetings. He’d been wrong, then. He had. Years of avoiding his own responsibilities. Telling her to toughen up. Telling her Kei was a problem case that she had to fix. Years of letting female officers take the fall for the behavioral issues in the Garrison. She remembered Sam Holt being accused of cheating with a young woman. With her. She looked over at Colleen Holt, short hair neatly styled, string of pearls on her neck, sharp eyes scanning over the room. 

“Dr. Holt, I was wondering if I could speak with you?” She asked, as the meeting ended. Colleen smiled, crows feet at the corners of her eyes sinking. 

“Please, call me Colleen. Dr. Holt is my mother in law.” She led Tomoe out the door, “My new office here is a good, quiet place to have a chat. What do you say about a quick cup of coffee?”

“That would be great, thank you.” Tomoe smiled back, and followed. Colleen walked quickly, the low heels of her shoes clicking on the tiled floor. 

Colleen Holt’s office had an uncountable number of plants, a large window facing the east, technology seamlessly woven through leaves and branches. She would love Olkarion, wouldn’t she? Pidge hadn’t learned to love nature like this until she’d gone. Sam had seemed to grasp it all intuitively. Colleen lived it. “How do you take your coffee, Shiro? May I call you Shiro?” 

“Of course, and I’ve gotten used to just taking it black, thank you.” Colleen sat her down on a chair in front of her own desk, moving over to a coffee machine tucked next to a massive basil plant. Colleen added milk to her own cup, and took her seat at her desk, pushing a mug of steaming black coffee across to Tomoe. It had the phrase “I’m lichen your coffee” written across the front in bright green text. 

“I figured you would want to speak frankly. There’s ears everywhere in this place. But not here. I’ve made sure of that.” Colleen’s eyes met hers. Pidge. Matt. They had her eyes clear as day. They were so like her. 

“I know you weren’t part of the Garrison before. I wanted to ask. Why? And why join up now?” Colleen set her own cup down, a lopsided one, clearly painted by children. 

“You mean, why do I now work with the Garrison when they’ve been involved in unethical and anti-humanist behavior for longer than you or I have been alive?” Tomoe nodded, a chill crawling down her spine. “Because I love my children. Because I love my husband. Because my family is everything to me and they are my only way to keep it together.” Colleen’s eyes stripped her to the bone. “So, Shiro. Why do you stay here, still? When we both know what this place does to our loved ones. To young girls.” Tomoe swallowed a sip of her coffee, thick like sludge, grimy down her throat. 

“I know. But I just. They’re all I’ve got. I pushed everyone else away and Kei– Keith is. She’s the only one I could ever keep. And I brought her here and it’s my fault but. I don’t think this place is fixable, Colleen. And I’m scared I’m being sucked back in.”

“You are.” Colleen sighed. “Don’t trust Sanda. Sanda wants you neutered. And wants the Earth’s priority to be the Earth and the Earth alone. She’d sell Voltron out to the Galra if she thought it would work. Iverson, he wants you a figurehead. The symbol of the Garrison, fighting against the enemy. He’ll take you just as easily as a martyr. The leadership has been,” she tilted her head. “Divided. On what to do with Voltron. They don’t trust your Princess Allura. They will never trust Keith, in a more personal and visceral way. You shouldn’t let them know she’s part alien. That’d make what they want to do with her all too easy. They’ve never trusted my own family, certainly not after my initial response to Sam and Matt going missing. Especially not after Katie made mincemeat of their operational security and vanished without a trace. And now it’s completely irreparable since Sam came back and we blackmailed them together. I don’t know Lance and Hunk like you do. I don’t think the Garrison thinks of them at all. If you want any chance, any chance at all for escaping them? Those two are an asset.” Kei said she got along better with Hunk and Lance now. I don’t know them but. She might.

“Colleen, what are you trying to plan here?”

“A way out from the Garrison. We need them to resist the Galra. But knowing you, trusting Sam’s own words about Voltron, the Galra are beatable . And when we do that we need to be able to move away from here. And we need to make sure the Garrison doesn’t try to fill the vacuum the Galra leave behind.” Colleen looked out of her window at the particle barrier. Tomoe felt her heart sink. 

“We’ve. We’ve left planets behind. We’ve gotten rid of the Galra and just. Left them,” she realized. 

“They’re not your people. You don’t know their dynamics. Sometimes letting people make their own decisions is best. But we’re here. We know this evil. Is this the power you wish to lead the Earth?”

“Colleen. What if we don’t win?” Piercing hazel eyes met hers. Pidge. Matt. Colleen. Genius. 

“Then you will take my daughter and make sure no matter what she lives. Voltron is not Earth. You are not of this planet anymore. None of you are. Your mission is more than us. Your mission is to make sure other planets have a choice that isn’t being harvested for energy. Make sure other planets are kept from Honerva.” Colleen sighed. “I am not interested in seeing the Earth become the Garrison. That is my mission.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“And Shiro, I haven’t done the math on the lions, but I can see that look on your face. You are one of them. I see the look on that girl’s face. I saw the aftermath of the hell she raised here when you disappeared. She’s their leader, but you’re hers. Don’t be a martyr.” Tomoe swallowed hard. Power. 

“I lo– I owe her so much. She shouldn’t–” Colleen put a hand on her shoulder, the one where her arm used to be, squeezing.

“We don’t owe the people we love. We love. That’s all you can ever do. Take their love, give them yours. Philosophically, there’s no utility value that can be gleaned from the invaluable. It’s difficult to internalize after years of transactional relationships, but it’s true.” 

The new arm hummed. It reminded her of Sendak. It hovered and it hummed and it was enormous and unwieldy, even after they’d given her the castle with it. She scowled. It was awful. 

“Can I help you?” She winced. It sounded terse, even by her normal standards. Lance looked taken aback, eyes wide. 

“I– sorry Shiro. I know you’re probably busy preparing for the launch and the fight coming up. I just wanted to ask if you know anything about where my sister is.” He looked small. Smaller than usual. He wasn’t very tall, or maybe she was just that much taller.

“I’m sorry for snapping, Lance. But no, I don’t.”

“Oh. I was hoping– well anyway.” His face fell. He was so, so young. She felt a pang of hurt. His family was still in pieces. Hunk and Kei had vanished to assure his family’s safety. And Lance? Where was Veronica? “Veronica was smart then. I bet she still is now. You just know she’ll be able to come up with something. She’ll come back to you.” Kei had said as much to Lance, quietly, at their team meeting. 

“Wait, Lance. I think I can help you try to find her. I know she was Griffin’s team coordinator. Surely they have information. I’ll see what I can do for you, don’t worry about it.” She patted his shoulder, he looked back at her gratefully. 

“Thank you Shiro.” He glanced at her arm. “Cool to see your arm back.” 

She couldn’t quite match his smile. But she could at least try to get his sister back. 

“What are you doing?” Griffin’s voice was higher than she’d thought it would be still. She rolled her eyes at the computer terminal. “Is it really all of team Voltron that doesn’t understand a chain of command? I expected better of you. You’re the Garrison’s gold standard.” 

“Griffin, as of my death I am outside the Garrison chain of command and this terminal has no security within it. Moreover, if I am still considered to be within the chain of command, you as a junior officer would not outrank me. You would be being insubordinate at the moment. So, yes, all of my team understands the concept of a chain of command in the way that you do not understand that they are fundamentally not a part of it.” She eyed the mission logs. The Garrison should never have had these accessible through a standard use computer on base. They’d gotten sloppy in their panic. 

Griffin bristled. “Sir. I am just concerned from a security perspective.” 

“And I understand that but being hostile toward my team because of a years old grudge with one of its members is not how you ought to handle those concerns. Thank you.” 

“I– I don’t have anything against Keith.” Griffin sputtered, face red. Tomoe raised an eyebrow. Naming her was on him. “It wasn’t. I didn’t. It wasn’t because of that.” 

“Is that so? Glad your jaw and nose have seemed to heal fine after all this time.” She resumed her download of the mission logs. She didn’t like the new arm. She couldn’t. But she did like that they’d made it possible for her to interface with almost all of the tech around them. 

“Look. I know I was kind of an annoying kid but–”

“Griffin. I’m in the middle of something. Either make yourself helpful or make yourself scarce, I’m not very interested in rehashing your childhood grudge with my- my team member.” Ha. Veronica Martinez. There you are. 

“You’re looking for Veronica, aren’t you?” Griffin mumbled. “She’s on some high clearance mission. None of us can see what she’s up to.”

“And I’m afraid that Garrison security protocols have been found lacking independent of my team entirely. I’ve got her. Now I’ll see about getting her to her family, or at a bare minimum getting mutual word that they’re alright. She’s still on base.” 

“You can’t just–”

“I believe you’ll find I have very little interest in what the Garrison thinks that I can’t do anymore, Griffin.” Ha. Take that, Griffin. Kei’s laughter rang through her head. 

Sendak died at someone else’s hand. Tomoe had won. She’d hidden from him. She’d not fought. She watched the man with the arm that was the same as her own fall with her. She watched him hit the ground and rise again. And watched him destroyed. Oh, Kei. Kei had smiled at her, broken, afraid, lost. Tomoe looked at her. She was beautiful, wasn’t she? Unequivocally beautiful. The Galra invasion, the lions storming back, the final gasps of the scraps of an empire dying out. Maybe it would all work. 

The sky was falling and Voltron was falling and all Tomoe could think was goddamnit, everything needed to move and it needed to move now and suddenly everything was more than it had ever been but at the same time everything that it was. The Atlas. 

Goddamn Sam Holt. Goddamn Garrison. She’d gotten out. Sendak was dead. Sanda was dead. Everything that had held her down was gone and they’d found a way to chain her back down. Because the Atlas heaved and the lions, the lions were dark. And Kei. Kei was–

Kei. She cradled her friend’s head in her hands, clinging to her, begging the lion to just let her get Kei safe, keep her safe, keep her alive, keep her. She let herself sob when she felt a fluttering heartbeat, Kei removed from her arms by a team of medical professionals. Kei couldn’t die. She couldn’t. She wouldn’t. I promise, Shiro , and she promised and she couldn’t. She couldn’t die. 

Brushing Kei’s hair was the only thing she could do now. She couldn’t let it get matted. She couldn’t do anything else for Kei. Krolia had sent word she would come as soon as possible, and Tomoe couldn’t bring herself to tell her it was safer for her to stay far away from the Garrison. She took Kei’s hand in her own, fingers cold and stiff. Kei, I need you to live. Please. Please live .

The other lions had stirred, the black lion would not. It remained, lying in the desert. Unmovable. Tomoe went there every time the doctors kicked her out of Kei’s room. Begging. Praying, even. 

Kei. Come back to me .

Shiro. I miss you . God she wished she could still hear Kei in the same way. 

In her dreams she killed Kei over and over again. 

“Allura! I’m so sorry I’ve been meaning to visit but–” 

“Don’t worry, Shiro. We’re all worried about Keith too.” Allura sighed, looking down at their still friend. If it wasn’t for the flicker of her lashes, the rattle of her breath, every machine around her rumbling to preserve life, Kei would look like a corpse. “And I know this place has kept you rather busy as well.” She pressed her lips together, irritation crossing her face. “Your hair has really grown out.” Tomoe looked down at her shoulders, where white waves barely scraped the tops. “We almost match.” Allura grinned.

“I think my scar isn’t quite magical Altean markings, but I make do.” Tomoe grinned. “I need to cut it, I think. It’s getting in my face.” But she knew as soon as she said that she would wait for Kei. She wouldn’t let anyone else touch the nape of her neck like that, to run their hands through her hair to her scalp, to stand behind her, to hold her still. “Allura, I have a question.” She looked at her friend’s warm blue eyes. 

“What is it, Shiro?”

“When we get rid of Honerva, then what? What do we do about all those planets? Because. I don’t think we’ve really talked about it. Thought it through.” Allura’s eyes hardened. 

“We haven’t. I haven’t. It’s expected of you but I was raised to lead and I haven’t. I don’t. Altea.” She took a deep breath. “We used to go out, we used to go to those worlds, impose. I don’t want to do that. I don’t ever want to repeat that. But Honerva and Lotor, Lotor really, he made that seem right. Like they needed it. And it seemed right, at first. To sort of, share. But it’s not sharing, really. I don’t. I want there to always be an open offer of collaboration. The Voltron coalition deserves that. But I don’t think it’s right to tell people what to do. That’s what Honerva is doing to my people. That’s what Lotor did to everyone. That’s what Zarkon did. I can’t do that.” She nodded firmly. Resolve. “It’s really quite simple. I was raised to be a queen, but to be a queen is to subjugate. I will not do that. I will not be a queen. The universe needs a friend, not a ruler.” 

“I think you make a very good friend to the universe, Allura.” Tomoe kept Kei’s hand clutched in her own. “You’ve been a great friend to us.” Allura’s hand went to Kei’s hair, pulling it away from her forehead and tucking it behind an ear.

“She’s going to be okay. I can feel it.” Allura turned to Tomoe, eyes distant. “You could too, you know?” Tomoe winced.

“Allura, I can’t feel Voltron anymore. I’m not really. A part of that. Not anymore.” She looked down at the thin, pale hand in hers. “The black lion was wonderful. It’s hers now though, truly.” Allura shook her head.

“I didn’t mean that, though I don’t think that’s so cut and dry really as you think. We don’t understand the lions, not even my father. I meant that there’s magic in both of you. You with Pidge’s father’s ship. Keith with Voltron. Your secret names. That’s all magic.” She smiled “Pidge wouldn’t like me calling it that, but my father always said magic is, whether or not you want it to be. That magic can talk to each other.”

“I don’t know if it’s like that.”

“But you know she’ll wake up. You don’t doubt it.”

“She promised.” 

“Officer Shirogane.” I’m not though. I died to you. I didn’t ever take up commission again. I’m not. “We haven’t been able to find anyone else able to make the Atlas transform for training exercises. I understand you need this personal leave to heal and grieve but please do tell us when you are able to return to your posting.” 

“Sir, I’m sorry, but I also have my own medical concerns to attend to at the moment. I will come back as I am able.” I am unable. Don’t make me. I can’t be your weapon. Not again. I can’t be your kind face. I can’t do it anymore. 

“You let us know. That’s a capitancy awaiting you.” I won’t be a captain. I won’t be an officer. I won’t be any of this.

She began avoiding Kei’s room when Krolia landed. Krolia had walked in on her, braiding and unbraiding Kei’s hair, whispering to her. She’d bolted. She couldn’t face Krolia like that. She couldn’t face anyone. It felt naked. “Hey, Hunk.” 

“Shiro! How are ya?” Hunk beamed, a steaming tray of cupcakes fresh from the oven in front of him, along with a piping bag. “Feels like I haven’t seen you in forever!” 

“Sorry I’ve been slacking on your flying lessons,” she smiled at him. “It’s been busy.” 

“Let’s just keep it between us but I don’t really like flying.” He winced. “I still love you, Yellow!” He turned over to where the lion must have been in his mind. “Silly girl. She’s just mad I think it’s scary still.” Tomoe grinned.

“Were you not a fan of roller coasters as a kid?” Hunk gave an exaggerated shudder

“No way. I kept my feet on the ground.” He started piping a cupcake. “Were you a big roller coaster kid? I can’t even picture you as a kid to be honest, wow a tiny kid Shiro is weird to think about.” Tomoe pressed her lips together, still smiling.

“My parents hated it, but yeah.” She shrugged. Let him in. Let people in. Let them see you. Make friends. She remembered Kei’s awe when she’d said she wasn’t good at making friends. “I remember I took Kei–Keith to an amusement park for the first time when we were stuck at the Garrison over the summer break for students. I think she said something about how going fast and upside down was cool but she wanted to drive it next time.” 

“Man, I get a mini-Keith and mini-Shiro story today?” Hunk finished off another cupcake. “This is a real treat. I remember I used to be so scared of you two. You were so cool and mysterious. And I guess that’s still pretty true but you’re a dork and Keith is just really awkward. In a good way! I am too! I wish I could tell Hunk from a few years ago where we are now.” He handed her a cupcake. “Happy not-quite birthday, by the way. I know it’s on leap day, but since it not a leap year here, I don’t know if it counts or not. Still! It’s close enough.” Tomoe looked down at it, a faint shock registering in her mind. 

“I– thank you, Hunk.” Hunk’s smile somehow widened. 

“Course.”

There was something there. And the Garrison moved her from here to there to another place to speak. But she could feel something itching at the edges of her consciousness. It wasn’t the Atlas. The Atlas, for all of Sam Holt’s brilliance, wasn’t alive. This was. And she felt it snap alive mid-speech. Kei. Kei is awake. Really, truly awake. She fumbled through words, brushed off the Garrison babysitter that had been assigned to her. Bolted to Kei’s room. Krolia and Kolivan be damned, Kei’s smile when Tomoe flew into her room was worth any embarrassment, and her frail arms wrapped around Tomoe were like coming home. 

Krolia and Kolivan left them there, Tomoe sobbing into Kei’s shoulder, Kei clutching Tomoe impossibly closer. 

“I missed you.” Kei rasped out.

“It’s good to have you back.” Tomoe’s voice cracked, horribly, on the sentence. Kei huffed out a laugh.

“It’s good to be back.” Kei let herself collapse further into Tomoe. She’d always been bird-like. Small. Brittle. But she felt more fragile than ever. “I dreamed about you.” 

“You were dreaming?” Tomoe let herself run her hand through Kei’s hair, alive, alive, alive.

“Kinda. It felt like you were brushing my hair. I dreamed about you talking to Allura a lot. About what’s going to happen with Honerva. About how we messed up with Lotor. Also you don’t like Kro– my mom very much. And Hunk made you cupcakes.” Tomoe felt faint recognition stir within herself. 

“Kei– Kei I think, something got all tangled up with us. All of that happened. More or less. I think– I think I felt you wake up too.” 

“Huh.” Kei’s hand came up to toy with Tomoe’s hair, “Space magic is so weird. It’s like Voltron. Everything gets all confused.” 

“Guess you’re stuck with me.” 

“Good.” Kei yawned. “I slept for so long and I’m still tired. Hi Kr–mom.” Tomoe felt heat rush to her face. She looked to the opening door, where Krolia took up the whole frame. 

“Kei, Shiro.” She smiled, teeth sharp. “We should have a talk.” Allura followed her in.

“It’s so good to see you awake, Keith!” Allura beamed, coming over to give her a hug. Kei’s eyes widened in surprise, but she still smiled. “Hello to you too, Shiro.” She pulled up a chair next to Kei’s bed. “I would’ve brought Pidge and Hunk and Lance here, but Pidge is being filled in by her mother, and the Garrison thinks they can trust Hunk and Lance and we didn’t wish to compromise that. And Coran is far too tied up in keeping them busy with Altean history and genomics.” 

“What did I miss? ” Kei scowled. “What’s going on?”

“The Garrison wants Voltron to be theirs. I think that’s probably a bad idea. And. Allura and Colleen Holt agree with me. We need to get Voltron away from them.” Tomoe whispered. “This place isn’t secure. We can’t go into detail.”

“The Blades are also too compromised for this.” Krolia said. Tomoe turned sharply, but Kei nodded beside her. 

“Voltron can’t go to the Galra.” Allura smiled ruefully at Kei’s words. “And it can’t go to the Garrison either. And Altea is go–”

“It shouldn’t have gone to Altea either.” Allura whispered. “I don’t think we can have Voltron in a peaceful universe.” 

“Oh.” Kei was very still. She closed her eyes, gripping Tomoe’s hands, human and prosthetic. “But there’s Honerva still.” Allura’s jaw clenched. 

“There is. I can’t help but wonder–” Allura trailed off, biting her lip. She stared off into nothingness. “We can’t save her, can we?” “You can’t save everyone.” Kei’s saved me over and over and over again. We killed Lotor and I helped to kill Zarkon and it stopped nothing. Alfor craved peace through the path carved by a weapon. The Garrison’s space exploration program is a military. The planets we saved slipped into someone else’s control when we fought.

“Why not?” Tomoe asked. Kei scowled.

“Shiro, I don’t think– sometimes people have to die. She’s made this choice over and over again. She has to live and die by that.” Allura tilted her head at Kei, agreeing. 

“I think she’s far too dangerous to let go free. And if she tries to fight and we have no choice then, we have no choice. What I am concerned about though is just that. Well. We’ve seen with the Alteans she’s shoved in the Robeasts. We’ve– I’ve seen it  in flickers of memories. There’s a sort of– corruption in her. And if we can get it out maybe she can be imprisoned.” Allura met Kei’s gaze. “You believed in your people. In Shiro. I must believe in mine.” 

“But she’s not like Shiro! Shiro had no choice.”

“No. But neither did every other Altean she’s touched since. I do not believe killing their leader and telling them I bring freedom is a good choice to present as their first.” Kei crossed her arms. 

“If it comes to it, Allura, and you see a way to imprison her safely, to get rid of the corruption from the universe, without harming anyone? I support it.” Tomoe eyed the tension in Krolia’s shoulders. “I’m tired of killing.” Kei looked down at the sheets of her hospital bed.

“If it comes to needing to kill her, then, I’ll do it.” Her lashes scraped the end of her scar, eyes fixed on a wrinkle Tomoe couldn’t see. 

“Kei–”

“Shiro. You’re not a weapon. You don’t have to be, anymore.” Kei looked up at her, a thin, shaky smile on her lips, violet eyes hard, distant. 

“You don’t have to be either.” Tomoe looked at her, trying to commit every ounce of her eyes to memory. “No one should be.” Allura shook her head.

“This is my own fight. If it truly comes to that, I will kill her.” Jaw set, she walked out of Kei’s room, every ounce the queen she’d never wanted to become. 

“The Atlas must launch. For the betterment of the universe!” Sam Holt’s insistence grated her a bit. We don’t know if we’re even going to make things better.

“Our priority must always be Earth! We have Voltron here and the Atlas here to defend it.” It’s all so… it’s so…

“We cannot afford to let the Galra control everywhere in the universe!” She felt herself slipping away from the conversation. We need to leave. I’m going to be stuck in a ship. Oh no. 

She’d never intended to tell Adam yet. Maybe someday. But that damn mission. And he was her emergency contact because she just hadn’t wanted her parents to appear at the Garrison. But oh. It hurt.

He hadn’t had sex with her since finding out. Was there something wrong with her now , as opposed to later? He insisted he wanted to stay and then wouldn’t touch her. Wouldn’t let her touch him. Gentleness bled into patronization. Adam kept avoiding her touch, her gaze, her body. It would break eventually, wouldn’t it? The Garrison would leave her behind and what then? What would happen to her when the Garrison decided she wasn’t worth the pain?

Her arms ached. She didn’t want Adam to help her up, to hold her door, to take her dishes, to baby her. She didn’t want the Garrison to stop her from flying. She didn’t want any of this.

“Adam, I’m fine. I’ve got time. It’s fine. I promise.” 

He’d only stared at her, lying there in her bed, let his eyes fall on the muscle stimulators on her wrists. He kept looking at them. Look at me. But he didn’t. He swallowed, leaving her there. He’d been mad at her. Mad at her for not telling him. But she couldn’t understand why. Why did he want to know? Why did he think he had to know? Why?

“Shiro? What are you doing here?” Pidge looked up from her array of screens, dark circles etched beneath her eyes. “Sorry, sorry, that sounded a lot ruder than I meant. I just was really focused.”

“It’s alright, don’t worry. I just wanted to check with you if your mom filled you in on–”

“Shut up.” Pidge cut her off, but nodded, mouthing yes . “Sorry, just had to fix my code for a second. And yes my mom told me I’m still grounded. Ugh.” She scowled. “Can’t believe I had to help Allura get ready for a date with Lance but I can’t even go do anything else without begging.” 

“A date with Lance?” Tomoe grinned. “I didn’t know Lance had asked her out already!” 

“Don’t you start too. You’ve been up to your eyeballs in meetings. Bet you haven’t even met Hunk’s smother yet. Bet you haven’t even had to deal with Griffin nosing around in everything you’re doing. Bet you don’t have to treat your dad like your boss.” Pidge’s nose wrinkled, glasses shifting with it. “I hate being here. I hate being stuck. I’m going crazy and no one will talk to me because Allura is with Lance when she’s not doing her space magic stuff I don’t get and Keith is stuck in rehab all day and you’re stuck in meetings or with Keith and mom’s mad at me for leaving her and everything is just awful and I miss Olkarion where people would talk to me like I actually knew what I was talking about which is true like I’m not dumb just because I’m seventeen and–” She took a massive breath, and her chin wobbled. “I just think there’s so much I could be doing to be useful but instead we’re sitting here twiddling our thumbs because they’re trying to save the universe by committee and they don’t even want to launch and–” and Pidge, Katie, Holt broke into sobs. 

Tomoe hugged her. “We’re getting out of this. I promise.” Pidge pulled back, taking her glasses off and wiping at her eyes. 

“How do you just– how do you just keep going?” She took another gasping breath. “I feel like I hate everything and I’m so mad all the time.”

“Oh, Pidge. I’m just. I’m also mad a lot. It’s just that the only thing I can do about it is move on.” She dragged a hand across her face. 

“I– I didn’t mean to, I promise, but I looked in your file and I saw–”

“My disease.” Tomoe crossed her arms. “It’s fine. I’ve known my whole life. I move on.” 

“I just. I don’t think I can .” She sniffled, blowing her nose.

“What do you think you’re doing now? It’ll never be easy. But it gets easier.” She patted Pidge’s hair, taking and wiping off her glasses for her. “You’re smarter than I am, you know? That might make it harder, and it feels impossible now. But you’re already doing it. And we’re here for you. We always will be.” Pidge nodded, lips pressed together.

“I hate being here.” She dropped her head onto her fist, eyes darting back to her screens. “Get a med checkup for your stuff soon. I think I have a way out faster than what my mom wanted. Oh also can you look over these arm schematics for me?” 

“Pidge, I– this is– I mean your dad did really great work on my arm but–”

“It reminds you of Sendak.” Pidge didn’t even look up from her screens. “I have another mockup already. Hunk helped. It’s not super similar to the Galra original you had either, because We just. Didn’t think you’d want to be reminded of that either. Keith looked a little uncomfortable about the design every time dad brought it up and I saw your faces when you woke up with it on your arm and I just thought it would be something kind of helpful? You don’t have to say yes or anything but I figured if both of you looked a little weird about it and you would never have asked and neither would Keith because you’re both like that and I think neither of you really get that engineering is an iterative process which really does need constant end-user feedback to work properly and really Hunk is just a much better biomechanical engineer than he got credit for at the Garrison so–”

“ Thank you, Pidge. Thank you both.” She turned to Hunk, who stood, mouth agape, having just walked into Pidge complimenting him.

“Pidge, aww!” Hunk’s smile was impossible to not try to match. “I’m so proud of you for your display of emotion on a par with the average organic lifeform!”

“Shut up, Hunk. I won’t be made fun of by someone who refuses to double-modulate–”

“We’ve been over this Pidge. I am not budging. Also, Shiro, it’s no pressure on the arm. We don’t even have to do it now. We just figured it’d be something nice to do while we were stuck here and stuff.”

“You guys, this is–  perfect. Thank you. So much.” She felt warm to her core. 

She’d almost gotten used to Kei’s wolf popping in and out of existence. Almost. She ran her fingers through soft fur, begging her heartrate to drop again. “Hey boy,” she smiled “How are you?” The wolf panted happily, ears tucked back and tail wagging furiously. “You’re a good boy? So good.” 

Kei walked in on her, lying on the floor, massive wolf sprawled out for pets. “You’re spoiling him.” 

“He deserves to be spoiled.” Tomoe smiled widely at the fluffy giant on top of her. “Don’t you boy?” The wolf “Not Kosmo, He’ll tell me his name when he’s ready,” looked up at Kei, panting happily. Kei’s mock sternness disappeared as she dropped to her knees to pet him. 

“Well. I guess you are a good boy.” He barked, tail wagging. Kei looked beautiful like that, wide smile, eyes scrunched up at the edges from the joy of it all. 

But all good things must come to an end. “Kei, before I ask anything just, know you don’t have to say yes or anything. It’s really no pressure.” Kei frowned, lovely brows furrowed and head tilted. 

“Of course, Shiro.” She reached over to squeeze Tomoe’s hand over the wolf’s back. Tomoe took it in hers, rubbing back and forth against the back of Kei’s hand with her thumb.

“I have a meeting with one of the Garrison doctors. It’s about my disease. It’s been weird lately. And I was in space all that time so, it’s probably a good idea to check in. Anyway I was just wondering if you would come with me?” She felt herself squirm, nerves high. She could feel her heart beating, in her neck, her hands, her chest. 

Kei let herself sit down against Tomoe. “Shiro, of course I will.” She leaned her head against Tomoe’s shoulder. “I’m really. Honored? Is that the right word? That you’re trusting me with this.” Tomoe sighed.

“You’re the first person I ever chose to tell. Even Pidge just found out. And I just. I don’t,” she took a deep breath, closing her eyes. “I don’t want to do this alone anymore.” 

“You don’t have to.”

It was gone. It vanished, not a trace of the genes left. She felt herself gripping Kei’s hand, heart aching, throat burning. Everything felt hazy. She felt acid rising up her throat, and barely had time to react before she vomited on the floor. The doctor’s words passed completely over her, everything coming in waves.

I had made my peace with dying. 

She sobbed into Kei’s shoulder. I’m not dead. I’m not going to die because of this. Everything hurt. Everything was beautiful, and hurt so much. Every breath now rattled through her with the promise of something she could lose.

It was terrifying. It was like flying off the edge of a cliff. She and Kei were both good at that.