Champion and Defender - Takashi Shirogane x Reader

Ch. Three

Shiro looked around your cell. He hadn't gotten the chance to the last time he was there.

"What are all these marks?" He looked over the numerous scratches with knit eyebrows. "How did you get them on there?"

"Each one represents a day I've been here." You shrugged. "I scratched them in with a nail. Its hardness is barely higher than the walls, but it works.

"How long have you been here?"

"Around three years."

"How old are you?"

"I'm," you stopped suddenly. It was your birthday. "I'm twenty-three today," you mumbled.

"It's-" he quickly stopped his sudden burst. "Happy birthday, (y/n)." Shiro's gaze softened. A small smile pulled at his lips, and you found yourself looking into his eyes again. He was staring directly back at you. You looked away with a heavy sigh.

"What's wrong?" Shiro asked quietly.

"I... I don't want to be here anymore, and," you stopped speaking. What more could you say? Do you tell him that your family was probably dead? Maybe that the only somewhat-comfortable thing you've had contact with in three years were your pants?

You tugged the hem of your garments. They were torn and smelled awful. Should you tell Shiro you wanted to escape? He had to want to as well. He seemed like the best person to confide in. "I want to leave," you stated calmly. A cold determination filled your body.

"Then we'll leave," Shiro declared. "I promise we'll get out of here. I don't know how long it will take, but we'll get out." He tried to sit up, wincing when a joint locked up.

"Stop doing that," you scolded. "I'm going to roll you over. Stop me if it hurts too much." Your hands slipped under Shiro's back, slowly turning him. He grunted softly, but didn't stop you.

When he was on his chest, you set your hands onto his spine. Without warning, golden light shot out of your hand and sunk into his muscle. "Looks like you tore a muscle." From the relaxation that Shiro showed, you assumed his back had been in a lot of pain. You looked at his face, taking in the small scab on his chin, the inky hair that fell over his hooded eyes. You saw his jaw clenched shut, and the downward lilt of his eyebrows. There was nothing else you could heal, but he was still in pain. You remembered the times you had been stressed or injured. After your father finished healing you, if you were still hurting, your mother gave you a massage.

Before you could think twice, your fingers gently rubbed over the muscles in his tense back. He inhaled sharply when you hit a tough spot next to his shoulder blade.

"I'm sorry," you muttered as you continued to rub that spot. His teeth ground together. You moved on, deciding you could work on it later. Your fingertips proceeded to trail along his form. When you used the heels of your palms to rub up his ribcage, he shuttered. A soft moan left his lips. When he realized what sound had left his throat, a blush erupted on his cheeks. You smiled at the thought of him enjoying your touch.

"(Y/n)?" Shiro rumbled. His voice sounded low and tired.

"Yes, Shiro?" He was quiet for a while. You figured he had fallen asleep.

"Thank you," he finally stated. "I will make sure you get out of here. I promise you." The door flew upwards, revealing a sentry.

"Healer, Haggar demands your presence."

"But the Champion has not finished hea-"

"Haggar demands your presence," he commanded again. "Come willingly or you will be moved with force."

You sent a look of unease to Shiro. You hoped he knew what to do. When he shut his eyes, you realized he did. The door closed behind you as you were ushered to a different part of the ship. You remembered the way. You had been there often.

Left. You thought. Straight ahead two corridors. Take a right. The door at the end of the hall. You passed through the door after the sentry scanned his hand. Another three corridors. Two right turns. This door. The Galra scanned his hand once more, and at this moment your brain caught up with your body. You felt the heart beat against your sternum more quickly, harshly. The pounding sounded through your ears. Your breathing became frenzied.

You didn't want to be here. This was a bad place. This was a bad place. Thiswasabadplace! Your thoughts were too scrambled. The shove on your back almost didn't register. Haggar's cloak burned your retinas. The memories of what happened in this room vanquished all rational thought. Panic consumed you.

It was all a blur. The straps kept you from fighting. The table made it so you couldn't pull away from the pain and the instuments. You tried to think of other things. What made you happy.

The Meadow of Loda. The flowers, Astrophengia. Brilliant, bioluminescent shades of blue, white, and pink that shimmered in the light of day, and glowed hauntingly in what would otherwise be darkness. The golden anthers, filiments, and style radiated a beauty unmatched by any other flower.

So you focused on the flowers in your mind's eye. On what they felt like and smelt like. It was the only thing that could distract you from the tubes being probed into your arms. It was the only thing that kept you sane.