Disclaimer – I don't own Voltron: Legendary Defender. The fanfic involves the theory that Shiro and Keith are siblings, but the hows and whys of said theory will be revealed as the story progresses. The story takes place before the first season, and has Shiro going on the Kerberos mission at eighteen and not twenty-five because the comics say all five are teens.

Aniki
Summer Meadow

The sound of cicadas echoed through the evening air, the sun setting over the horizon leaving streaks of warm colors playing across the fields of the small Japanese community. A woman hummed a tune which reverberated with the rhythm of the summer sounds, while each of her hands held the hand of a child, one seven, and the other four. The older of the children remained taciturn on her left, his eyes closing at the humming sound. The younger child's mouth twisted into a huge grin, his finger pointing at various things along the road, words bubbling from his mouth as the child came up with stories.

The trio passed one of the small houses in the village as a woman came out the front door, the sliding making an audible sound. The woman froze, staring at the three, only for her eyes to dart to the side not wanting to make eye contact with the mother of the children. The three stopped, the older of the children frowning, the youngest not noticing the odd look. The eldest child looked up just as the woman disappeared into the house, and the woman looked down, a smile on her face. "Don't mind them."

A deep breath escaped the boy's mouth, the younger's head darting to the side realizing something happened, eyes wide. The incident soon became forgotten as the woman started walking again, taking the two children with her, arriving at the small house they lived in. The youngest let goes of the woman's hand, rushing forward to open up the door, letting it slide with a thump, the traditional paper crinkling slightly with the movement. The older boy remained with the woman, only letting go when they both stepped into the house, the shoes slipping off so he could step over the ledge into the room. Cushions sat in front of the small television, the small child flopping onto them, his feet kicking up into the air. The woman let out a soft laugh. "Shoes."

The youngest turned his head to look at her, frowning as he did so, only to dart past the two as they headed into the room. The eldest sat down in a traditional manner while the woman headed into the kitchen to prepare the afternoon meal. The youngest let out a laugh as he rushed into the room, flopping over the lap of the oldest. "Gundam, Gundam, Gundam!"

The older of the children reached over, ruffling the boy's head of hair, the corner of his mouth twisting up slightly. "Not until mama gets back." The boy leaned back, letting the summer breeze from the nearby meadow blow in through the open door, his eyes closing. "Papa going to be home tonight?"

The humming stopped, and the woman stepped out setting the food down on the small table. "No. He's, unfortunately, busy."

The woman turned on the television, allowing the animation to play across the screen while the two children watched the rerun, the youngest glued to the television while the oldest let his eyes close shut. The two moved to the table after the episode ended. The eldest sat in the traditional manner, eating in a polite manner, while the youngest spooned the food into his mouth. The woman laughed, ruffling the boy's head of hair. "Now, now, slow down. You can't go out to play until your brother finishes."

"It's yummy!"

The family continued to eat, the woman's eyes twinkling briefly with sadness that the two children didn't notice. The youngest finished first and let his chin rest on top of the short table, waiting for his brother to finish. The older boy finished the food and set down his chopsticks before giving thanks for the food. The younger boy darted from the room, a look of worry flashing across the woman's face. "Gundam, Gundam, Gundam! We're going to play Gundam!"

The eldest followed suit, stopping in the meadow where the grass tickled his legs, his arms crossed. "Let me guess? We're going to play the same characters?"

"You're Shiro, short for Shirogane. I'm Keith because that's like my name. There isn't a character that shares my name"

"Yes, but..." The eldest opened his mouth in an attempt to protest the logic, including the fact the characters didn't even appear in the same Gundam series but instead shook his head. A smirk spread across the child's mouth as the youngest began to spout out the newest story that had come to mind, and the two proceeded to act it out, climbing up and down the rock located in the meadow, the youngest jumping down every so often to knock the older off his feet onto the ground, laughing as he did so. The stars began to come out, twinkling above, when a voice called out.

"Takashi! Akira!" The youngest darted up, his small hands pressing against the older boy's stomach, eliciting a groan from the boy. The older turned, walking after the younger boy, watching as the youngest leaped into the arms of a man, whose facial features were twisted up with exhaustion. "The two of you should be in bed, though I am glad to see you when I got home."

The man reached out and touched the older boy's shoulder lightly, and then set the youngest down so he could hurry to the bathroom to prepare for bed with zeal. The older boy followed after, tugging at the youngers clothing when he didn't finish brushing his teeth, but not uttering a lecturing word. Upon finishing they headed to their room, soon falling asleep in the futon. The eldest awoke, the sound of the younger whimpering, some kind of nightmare bothering the younger. A small hand reached out to nudge the younger, only to stop upon hearing a strange crackling sound.

The oldest turned his head, noticing an orange light flickering under the door before flames licked at the bottom, making the older wake the younger, his arms wrapping protectively around the younger. The youngest child opened his mouth, muttering about someone being in the room with them, causing the seven-year-old to turn his head, only to black out. The boy came to, the grass of the meadow against his skin, his younger brother in his arms, the smell of smoke wafting in the summer air. He stood up, letting the younger sleep, the whimpers coming again, climbing up on the rock to see the house in flames, the sound of adults coming their way.