the biggest 'ok hear me out' yet (what if Shiro ran a daycare?)

I Apparently Can't Color Correctly (According to Hunk)

It was the beginning of July, and people were already doing fireworks. I hated fireworks. They reminded me too much of gunshots. I had spent a few years in the military before college, and so I had a bit too much experience with guns.

All of the kids had arrived already and were doing something with the Xbox. I don't even know why people were doing fireworks in the daytime... maybe they were just doing the ones that sparkled on the ground or something like that, but they were loud.

I sat in the kitchen, writing in my journal to try and escape the hell I was currently in. I was writing random facts that I happened to know at that point. I was just trying to distract myself.

I didn't even notice Hunk sneak up behind me until he asked, "What are you doing?" I jumped. "Oh... I'm just writing things down." I said. "Why?" He asked.

"Well, I'm not a huge fan of fireworks, so I'm trying to distract myself," I explained. Hunk thought for a moment. "Do you want to color?" He asked. That actually didn't sound too bad. "Sure."

He ran off for a moment to grab something out of his bag. He came back with a coloring book and some markers, and crayons. I raised an eyebrow. I had never seen Hunk with any of this stuff.

I put my journal to the side, and Hunk placed the coloring book in front of me. It was obviously for younger kids, but I didn't mind that much. "You pick one," I told him. His eyes lit up, and he flipped through the book for a moment before deciding on one. "This one." He said, tearing it out.

I opened the box of crayons and started coloring. It was weirdly calming. The fireworks were already seeming farther away than they actually were. Hunk grabbed a coloring page as well and started coloring with me.

Wait, wasn't this some form of coping mechanism? Where did he learn this? I couldn't help but ask him. He kept coloring as he spoke, "My mom taught me. She said she used to color whenever she got frustrated. It's really helpful." He told me.

I nodded. That could check out. "So, why don't you like fireworks?" He asked. I paused for a moment. "Well... how old are you?" I asked. "I'm ten." He said. I didn't have to sugarcoat it that much.

"Okay... I was in the military a few years back. People would shoot guns during training. I never liked the training. So, I'm not really fond of gunshots... fireworks sound like gunshots." I said. That was close enough to the actual reason.

Hunk nodded. "How often did you have to hear gunshots in the military?" He asked. It was kind of an insensitive question, but he was just a child, so I looked past it. "Pretty often," I said.

"Oh. Did people get hurt?" He asked. I sighed. "Yeah, buddy. Not many, but yeah." I kept coloring. Hunk was silent for a moment. "How many?" He eventually questioned.

"Well... I don't know how many, but there weren't too many of them." I assured him. "Did people die?" He asked. My grip on the crayon tightened. "Only a couple." I eventually managed to get out.

"Did you know them personally?" He asked. The crayon snapped in half. He looked at it with soft wide eyes. "I'm sorry. This isn't helping." He said. My heart broke. He looked so sad. I knew he had only wanted to help. He wasn't trying to cause anything.

"No, it's okay, Hunk. I didn't mean to break the crayon. I think I was just grasping it a little too hard." I smiled. "I'm having a great time coloring with you." He looked up. "Really?" I nodded. "Of course."

I grabbed another crayon and kept coloring. Hunk went back to his picture. It was silent for a while. Then, I took a deep breath. "I did know one of them, actually." I went quiet again. I was about to speak again when Hunk said, "You're doing it wrong."

I looked at him. "I'm doing what wrong??"

"You're coloring wrong. That's out of the lines." He said. I looked at the paper. That was not out of the lines, so I told him so. Then, "Nuh-uh. It's wrong." I just rolled my eyes playfully. I wasn't going to argue about that.

We both sat in silence for a while, just coloring. I had to admit it was working. Ever since I stopped being bombarded with questions, I had barely thought about the fireworks. I didn't even know if they were still going at this point.

When I finished the coloring page, I showed him. He gasped. "It looks incredible! ...Except for when you went out of the lines." He said. I looked at it again. I still didn't see where it was out of the lines.

I chuckled. "But it's good, right?" He nodded his head, "YES!" I laughed again. Suddenly, everyone else ambushed us. They all ran into the kitchen. They all looked at one another until Pidge spoke up.

"Can we go see the firework show tonight???" She asked. I froze. "Please?? We promise we'll be good!" Lance said. "We'll stay by you the whole time!" Allura added.

I stared at them. My mouth felt dry. "Guys... maybe it's not the best idea," Hunk said. He didn't go into detail, but just that sentence was enough for me to thank him mentally.

But all of the kids looked crestfallen. I felt a pang of guilt. I couldn't very well upset them. Keith looked over at me. "I'll invite Adam." I blinked. "How?" I asked. Keith pulled out his phone, which he wasn't even supposed to have on him. "I got his number." He said. "How??" I asked again. Keith didn't answer me. "Listen, do you want me to invite him or not? Because it sounded like you were about to give in to us." He said. I sighed. "Okay, fine."

I got the details from the kids and permission from a director to make them on the trip. It was set for tonight at some fancy place Coran had a membership to. I handed out the permission slips as everyone left. They were all buzzing with excitement.

I sat down on the couch after the last one left. A fireworks show. I had really agreed to go to a fireworks show. I didn't know what I was going to do. I probably couldn't very well stay for the show, but I had to because of the kids.

I guess I would figure it out when the time came tonight. Maybe I would be able to get over it. Maybe it wouldn't affect me as much as it did the past couple of years.

But I knew it was wishful thinking. It would be just as bad as last year, and the year before that, and so on. If anything, it would be worse than the previous years. I couldn't help but think about him.

Him. One of the closest friends I had when I was in the military. We were extremely close before it happened. Before he was shot.

Now he was nothing but a memory.