I'll Keep Waiting (Shiro x Reader)

4. Sanctuary

4 MONTHS INTO CAPTIVITY

Champion. That was the name Shiro had earned himself after Myzax's defeat. Word of him and his victory spread like wildfire among the rest of the prisoners and soon, that was what everyone in these cells ever called him. It sickened you to your core to see Shiro's identity begin to slip away so early into his captivity, so you called him by name whenever given the chance, and asked about Earth to keep him going. It was a small, insignificant gesture, but it meant the world to him. No matter how much time passed, he never answered to his new name. He refused to even turn his head at the sound of it, and it cost him.

Again and again, he was sent to the arena both as a punishment and as his duty as the new Champion, and every time he'd return to you bloody, nearly unconscious and healed up just enough to keep him alive. Each time you took him in, you put his mind at ease, and cared for his wounds as best as you could. This became a routine sooner than you would've liked. As his opening act, you would often return to an empty cell after your fights, waiting for Shiro to finish his own or waiting for him to heal, refusing to consider the possibility of him not coming back again. These brief moments of solitude were the ones you despised the most, but it was the one you were living right now.
You hear the Galra sentries before you see them, and much sooner than expected, much to your relief. Heavy, metallic footsteps approached the cell at a synchronized pace. The door opens and Shiro is pushed inside as per usual, eyes closed. You rush to his side as soon as the door slides shut again, checking him up and down for injuries that weren't healed properly or that were left to heal on their own.

"I'm fine, (Y/n), I'm fine, I swear."

You move on to check his back, struggling to see in the dim light. "Just let me see for a bit longer, I'm sure they could've overlooked something."

"I wasn't hurt," His voice wavers as if he could break into a million pieces, the threat of tears imminent.

You stop checking.
Slowly, you turn to face him, tilting your head to try and meet his eyes. "Shiro?"

"I wasn't hurt," he whispered, "Because the one who I was sent to fight wasn't a monster, or even Galra. I was sent in to fight another prisoner."

Your heart sank. You couldn't fathom what it could've been like to be forced to take an innocent life, a life just like your own.

"I tried to refuse," he continued, "I tried to tell them I wouldn't fight him, that I'd rather have them send in another monster than to kill this poor kid. The guy was thin as a stick, and shaking like a leaf. He... he reminded me so much of Matt and I... When I knew there was really no way out of this, I tried to get it over with as soon as possible."

"Shiro... I'm so sorry." You were at a loss for words. You had heard of Matt before, and how close he and Shiro were before they had both been captured, along with Matt's father. Shiro had even told you about how he took Matt's place in his fight against Myzax. You couldn't reassure him by telling him this would be the last time he would ever have to do something like this, or encourage his escape fantasy because you knew the futility of the idea. So you say nothing. But in a whim, you pull him over to you and embrace him into a tight hug. He stiffens with surprise, but is quick to melt into the hug. In a moment of vulnerability, you hear him choke up with tears next to your ear as he clings onto the clothes on your back.

"You're gonna be fine," you tell him. "We'll be fine."

That was a lie, but what more did you have to offer? After his second fight that day and a breakdown, he was irremediably exhausted, and he was quick to fall into a deep slumber, which you could only assume would be plagued with nightmares. You prop him up against the wall to let him rest, examining the details of his face. There was, in fact, something you had overlooked. A large gash ran across the bridge of his nose. Deep and clean. Most likely from his first fight. Your fingers linger over the healed skin, tracing over it slowly, as if that would make the wound vanish.

"I'm sorry," you sigh. You were tired too. Waiting for Shiro to return to the cell safely was the only reason you'd stayed awake. With him back, a wave of exhaustion washed over you. Your eyelids grew heavier with every blink, and you could barely keep your own head up any longer. You sit down next to Shiro, a much preferable and warmer surface than the cold steel walls the cell had to offer. This way you could tell if the other woke up, and you could both feel safer in each other's company.

Once you've made sure Shiro wasn't going to wake up any time soon, you let your eyes slide shut and sink into a dreamless sleep.

✿ ✿ ✿

A light stirring and mumbling rouses awake. You instantly sit up, convinced Shiro was having another night terror. Seconds ticked by, but he didn't move again, and not another peep came from him. You sigh in relief. You were unaware of how long you'd been asleep, but you felt rested enough. You briefly watch the peaceful rising and falling of his chest before your eyes turned their focus to his hand. An idea popped into your head. Gently, you take his calloused hand into yours and begin to rip off the end of his torn sleeve. The cloth was thin, and gave away easily without waking him up.

With a deep breath, you close your eyes and concentrate. Evidently enough, this tiny piece of Shiro was enough to grant you a vision of him, not much different than the one you had seen seconds before with your own eyes. Despite the haziness of your vision, you saw Shiro begin to awaken. In fact, he was very much awake, and looking directly at you. Your eyes shot open and you whip your head around, mild embarrassment from being caught mid-act making your cheeks flush.

"What was that?" He questioned, genuine curiosity in his words.

"Ah, uh, sorry." You clumsily return the rag to his hand. A dumb gesture, really. Shiro just stared at it in confusion, now more puzzled than ever. The instant after, you realize the stupidity of your actions and your face grows hotter.

Shiro smiles awkwardly. "Was that the thing you've been talking to me about?" He coaxed, trying to ease you into responding to him. "How come you've never done that before?"

"Well I," You put your thoughts in order as the embarrassment subdued, and you stopped fumbling with your words. "I never had the chance to fully develop my skills before being taken prisoner, so my powers never reached it's full capability. If I had received proper training, I could track down a person halfway across the globe with an object they held only once. But in my current state, my range only reaches within this ship, and the object must've been in the person's possession for several days, if not more."

"That's fascinating," he breathes out with a lopsided smile, kind gray eyes looking deep into yours.

The color returns to your cheeks, and your whole body tingles. "Oh It's nothing, really."

You break eye contact and chuckle nervously. "I'm not half of what I could've been."

"But it's far more than what my species could ever hope to achieve. Most humans can only dream of having abilities like yours, or anything at all to stand out."

"Hold on, what?" You squeaked, taken by surprise. "Humans can't do anything? At all? I could've sworn humans must've had super-strength or something after you beat Myzax on your first day here."

He let out a single, hearty laugh. "Well, I like to think that what we lack in supernatural abilities we make up in spirit. When the adrenaline kicks in, we are capable of some incredible feats, but nothing like you."

A sense of pride bubbled up inside you, another feeling that had long laid dormant. Seeing the rag on the floor, you pick it up and hold it before him. "This way, at least one of us can keep sight of the other, but if we want the connection to last, we should give it some more time."

Shiro took the rag and tied it around his wrist. "I'll make sure to take good care of it."

You smile warmly. "I know you will."