Broken (Shiro x reader) - Dropped

Chapter 1 - Prison Mate

"Back in distant memory, not everyone was treated the same," I started telling a story out loud. That is what I did to keep sane, and pass the time. The guards didn't care, stories were just that, stories. Besides it was only me and the brutal gladiators on that ship. "There was a girl, who thought like many like her. That the fact her sex was seen as inferior was unjust. She wanted that to change that fact, causing her to dress as a man on day. This would change the fate of her life..." I was laying on my back, on the metal platform they called a bed. I was staring up at the metal ceiling, swaying my leg back and forth.

I was going to continue, the stories would always be made up on instinct.  Before the next word could leave my mouth there was grunting from outside. Being the curious person I was I slide of the bed and walked over to the small barred window in my door.

I peaked out to see two guards shoving an injuries human into the cell across the hall from mine. I couldn't get that great a look at them. I could get two things from when I did , the first was that he was human, and the second was that he was a he. Yes I am familiar with humans. They are the most advanced inhabitants of Earth, the third planet in my solar system, and the race of my father. My mother was an Aresian, or as a human would call her, a Marsian. I grew up on Ares/Mars, but I visited Earth frequently.

They slammed the door behind him. His face soon appeared in his own window. He was all scuffed up and blood. Must be a new gladiator. His hair was dark, and his eyes were gray. He looked to be of some Asian descent. " 'Ello mate," I greeted him I'm a terrible Australian accent, "Got yourself in quite the tizzy, haven't we?"

He looked in my direction looking a bit confused. "Sorry," I giggled, sticking my face through the bars and bit. It didn't help much, the light in my cell was nonexistent, and the hall was very dim. I hoped he could at least see that I didn't mean have any ill intent. "I believe the last time I interacted with an Earthling besides my father was when I was ten or so. But it doesn't really mater." I shrugged.

"Who.... who.... are you?" he managed to asked. He was obviously on edge. He did appear to have come from a fight. I like the day of fights, they were the days I wasn't taken.

"The name's (Y/n) (L/n)," I explained, with a toon in my voice. "The guards call me Red though, and you can call me (Y/n). May I know who you are."

"I'm Shiro," he said simply. He was obviously still hung up on the fight from earlier. I couldn't help but feel like I should help him.

"Want to talk about it?" I offered. I lost all the childishness in my voice, and was as serious as I could be. "I get I'm a stranger, and you're in a strange place. But it isn't good to keep it all in, and I'm willing to listen." I put a soft smile on my face, forgeting he couldn't see it.

He didn't even hesitate. He just told me, he must have really wanted to get it off his chest. I did listen, I was actually sorta happy at one point. The Galra weren't at Earth yet, so Ares was still fine. "Don't blame yourself," I told him, "None of this was your fault. You didn't know about aliens, you helped out your friend. There is nothing to feel guilty about."

"What's your story?" Shiro asked me. It was only fair that I knee his that he would know mine.

"Well I'm from Ares, or you would know it as Mars," I was staring at the ground but I could tell he was surprised by this. "I'm half human though. Either way when I was seventeen I found something the Galra wants. I left Ares, on search for something. I don't exactly remember anymore.  But I obviously got captured by Galra."

"How old are you now?" he asked. Out off all that I told him, that was his question. There were so many plot holes, yet he ignored them all.

"I'm still seventeen," I sighed, an anomous tone in my voice. "Yes years have past, but I refuse to let this place change me. I am going to leave this place the same person I was brought in as." At least that is what I hoped. I wasn't even sure if I was still the same person, or just thought I was. I don't even remember my own face, my mother's face, or even her name. I would have forgotten my own name if I had not carved it into my memory. Repeat in it again and again whenever they tried to break me.

"I don't know what you were like before," he said with a slight laugh in his voice, "But I don't think they've gotten to you yet." I laughed. He had no idea how much those words meant to me. I knew they had. The reason I would always look at the ceiling, was because it was the only thing that hadn't changed. The floor was stained with blood, my own blood. Every wall was covered with tallies, one for every day, which I measured by meals. There were chains on one wall, as they had given up on taking me out of my cell to tourter me.

Even though they have gotten to me I made sure I still remembered some thing. How to be kind. How to laugh. How to smile. How to enjoy living. To never give up hope. How to fight. How to love. "Thanks," I said through the bars. I was glad he couldn't see the tears sliding down my face.