"All right, counselors!" Coran called as he wove his way through the occupied tables in the mess hall, a stack of manila folders cradled at the crook of his arm. "I'm passing out your opening day packets now! These have your camper listings, all your camper orientation materials, and your schedules for the week, so do not lose these!"
Mumbles of 'of course not' and 'we won't' rose from the assembled staff members, even though Coran knew as well as they did that a couple of them will definitely have already misplaced it before the day was up. All throughout staff training week, the summer staff had been running the full-time staff ragged this way; the Lost and Found was already starting to fill up handsomely, and one particularly talented counselor had even managed to lose an entire tent.
Fortunately, even in the short span of a week, the counselors had overall done a good job of getting their acts together and getting the place running smoothly. They'd had little time to rest all week, since from sunup to sundown they were learning the counselor duties, every policy and procedure the camp could come up with, how to run every rec activity in Coran's stack of binders, the purpose of every single solitary object on the campgrounds, and whatever else could be crammed into their heads before opening day. Despite the staff's initial complaining and exhaustion, they were quick learners, and they remembered the lessons well. And after she had finished giving them an afternoon of first aid training, Honerva, the camp nurse, had even called this summer's staff "not a total disaster" – which, according to Coran, was some of the highest praise she ever offered.
And as slowly as the week had seemed to drag by, Sunday still came around far more abruptly than any of them had expected. The shift from learning the ropes to eating "the last quiet meal you'll have for the rest of the summer, so you'd better enjoy it while you can" (as Sal, the head cook, so inspiringly phrased it) was sudden enough that they barely had time to think about it. Which might very well be the case, actually, Shiro realized. They were all as prepared as they could ever be, but there was still a distinct nervous anticipation in the air among the staff, especially in the first-time staff members like himself. They probably didn't want to give the staff time to dwell on things that would get them anxious about the coming months.
Once his own folder was slapped down in front of him, just barely avoiding landing in the streaks of ketchup left over on Shiro's otherwise empty plate, he snatched it up eagerly, flicking it open with a haste that probably should have given him a paper cut.
"Easy, tiger," came a voice across the table from him. Matt Holt was smirking over at him as he opened his own folder with exaggerated formality. "It's not going to run off if you don't pounce it in time."
"Oh, hush, let me have this," Shiro replied, rolling his eyes. Not for the first time he questioned his sanity for making the decision to share such close quarters with Matt all summer, but, of course, Matt had been the one to convince him to apply for the counselor position in the first place. Shiro's family had been friends with the Holts since as far back as any of them could remember, and as kids, Matt and Shiro had been remarkably close despite two years of age difference; they had even attended Camp Altea together. Shiro had never considered returning to the camp as a staff member, and he doubted he would have if Matt hadn't done so first.
It had taken some convincing on Matt's part. Shiro was approaching his graduation from high school, soon to be making the transition to college, and he had planned on spending summer adjusting to that transition, not camping.
"Dude," Matt had told him, "How much work do you think that's going to take? You've got, like, three months of summer, and there's only so much schedule planning and dorm shopping you can do."
"It's not just that," Shiro had said. "I think I might want to take a summer internship."
"Bullshit. You're not gonna get college credit for an internship you take before your first semester's even started. You're just gonna take that concession stand job at the city pool again."
"I've also got to get a lot of info moved around – banking stuff, absentee voter registration, pharmacy records. On account of going out of state and all."
"You're going to Arizona, man, not Pluto. You'll just be filling out a few forms and making a couple phone calls. It won't take three months.
"Well, I'll also need the time to mentally prepare for everything."
"So buy a yoga DVD and bring it to camp. Seriously, Shiro, this would be great for you. You'd make an awesome camp counselor."
"I don't – "
"And besides," Matt had interrupted him. "I've already started making plans for a summer abroad next year, and then I'll be starting my master's program, so this is gonna be my last year as a counselor. Which means it's the only year we can do it together. Come on, Shiro." He drew a comical frown and batted his eyelashes. "Are you saying you don't want to hang out with me all summer? And Pidge is registered to be a camper this year, you know. Am I gonna have to tell her that her big brother Shiro doesn't want to spend time with her?"
"That is low, Holt."
"I fight dirty, Shirogane."
Finally Shiro relented and filled out the online application, Matt playing back-seat driver as he leaned over his shoulder to throw out ideas for his cover letter, tell him what answers they were looking for in all the applications' questions, insist that he put his dad down as a reference. "I'm pretty much the best counselor there," he said. "So if they see that my genetic predecessor has given you his seal of approval, they'll be scrambling over themselves to hire you."
"I hope you didn't put down 'modest' as one of your three biggest strengths when you filled this thing out," Shiro replied tonelessly.
"I totally did. But I made up for it by putting down 'prone to exaggeration' as my biggest weakness."
"How noble of you."
"Yeah, I wrote that too. My three biggest strengths: modest, noble, and unkillable."
For all that Matt joked around during the application-filling process, it turned out that his help was still useful. Shiro ended up getting a job interview with the camp director, and a week later, an e-mail topped with the camp header welcomed him to the Camp Altea Summer Staff.
And as reluctant as he had been to apply in the first place, the closer they came to opening day, the more excited Shiro had become. He had forgotten, until he set foot back on the campgrounds for staff training week, how much he had enjoyed his time spent here as a camper. There was an exhilarating sense of energy and liberation in the camp atmosphere. He didn't know how much of that was just from getting to spend so much time outdoors and in the woods, how much was the sense of independence that came from getting to spend so long away from home, how much was just the natural enthusiasm possessed by ten-year-olds everywhere, and how much was a side effect of s'mores-induced sugar highs, but he'd had the time of his life out here, and now, he was ready to pass that along to the next generation of campers.
A sticky-backed name tag fluttered out of the folder when he opened it, and a Sharpie was working its way down the table as the counselors scrawled out their names on them and attached them to their shirts. Shiro examined the rest of the folder's contents as he waited for it. The pages in the packet were printed on about a dozen different colors of copy paper to tell the contents apart at a glance, and although it was packed full, the stack of papers still wasn't a fraction as thick as the staff handbooks they'd been given at the beginning of training week, so Shiro was relieved he wouldn't have to do any excessively heavy reading today. The first couple of pages contained the camp's mission statement and the official camp rules, all of which Shiro knew by heart by now. Next in the stack was his cabin listing, which he read several times over, trying to commit the names to memory for when he met his campers for the first time.
Cabin C
Counselor: Takashi (Shiro) Shirogane
Family cabin: Cabin D – Allura Brooks
Campers:
Timothy Bell
Rolo Chabert
Hunk Garrett
Duncan Hartwell
Andrew Ing
Chip Khouth
Keith Kogane
Lance McClain
Benji Rial
Daniel Tong
He tried to picture what the campers might look like based on their names alone, knowing as he did so that his mental pictures would probably be wildly inaccurate, but it was a fun diversion anyhow. He was engrossed enough in it that didn't even notice Matt trying to get his attention until the latter whistled sharply at him.
"Hm? What?"
"Earth to Shiro," Matt said. "Your turn with the marker." He rolled the Sharpie toward Shiro and left his hand out, now making a grabbing motion with the fingers. "Let me see your list."
"Why?" Shiro asked, uncapping the marker.
"I wanna see if I recognize any of the names."
"Because you just know so many late-elementary-school-aged boys?"
"I'm just trying to see if there are any return campers. Gimme."
Shiro obliged and passed the paper over to Matt, whose lips moved silently as he read through the names. "See anyone you recognize?" Shiro asked.
Matt shook his head. "Don't think so. Although, wait, you've got a McClain. I had a Teresa McClain in my family cabin last year, and she had like a billion siblings who'd been taking turns as campers pretty much every summer, soon as they were old enough. Wonder if this guy is one of them. Ask him for me."
"Will do."
"And if he is, tell him his big sister cheats at foosball."
"I'll make that my top priority. Can I have my list back?"
Matt passed it back to him, and Shiro continued perusing his papers. Orientation checklist, contact information for all the campers, reminders for emergency procedures, all the staff assignments for the week. There were two copies of his schedule; he folded one up to carry in his pocket and made a mental note to tack the other up in his cabin.
Apparently he had sifted through the materials in precisely the correct amount of time, because just as he was closing his folder, Coran was climbing onto a chair in the front of the room, turning toward the staff. He had brought a spoon and cup along with him, and he banged the former against the latter to get their attention. It was unnecessary; when Coran's head of starkly orange hair was the tallest point in the room, he was basically a human beacon torch, and he wouldn't have gone unnoticed for long.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he said, his voice loud and clear in his 'announcement' mode. "In a minute, you will take your dishes and silverware up to the counter in an orderly fashion, and then I want you to report immediately to your assigned tasks for registration and move-in. I want you all to be ready to make the best first impressions you can – there's a reason we let you sleep in today, you know. We've got a jam-packed day, and a jam-packed summer, ahead of us. I don't want to see any of you burning out on me."
He smiled then, the corners of his mustache turning upward along with his lips as he beamed out at them. "I'm looking forward to an incredible summer, people. We've got a great crop of counselors this year, and I know I can count on you all to create a fun and memorable experience for our campers. This is what we've been preparing for.
"If you have any last-minute questions," he added, "Don't hesitate to come to me. And if you can't find me, Alfor will be available in his office until the end of registration time. Make sure to be back in your cabins by four o'clock on the dot to start your campers on orientation – it's much too early in the summer for any of you to start developing a habit of tardiness. All right, Alteans!" He clapped his hands together, or came as close to doing so as he could with a spoon and cup in one hand. "Let's clear out and get this summer off to a wonderful start!"
He was answered with a smattering of applause from the assembled staff, drowned out by the scraping of chairs against the linoleum floor echoing off the walls as they got to their feet and gathered their dishes. Coran stepped down from his chair and made to exit the hall, but he paused, frowning into the crowd of counselors. "Matthew!" he barked.
"Yes sir?" Matt replied innocently.
"What on earth is that?"
He pointed toward Matt's chest, and Shiro turned to look. On his name tag, under the pre-printed 'Hello, my name is…' heading, Matt had written 'Inigo Montoya'.
"I'm trying out a new nickname."
Coran sighed and pulled the roll of name tag stickers out of his pocket. "Quiznak, Matthew, can't we go one year without you trying to weird everyone out on opening day?" He handed him the name tag and fished an extra marker from his pocket. "Don't waste this one."
"I won't, I promise," Matt said, but Coran didn't make any move to leave until he'd watched Matt write his actual name down onto the tag. When the man nodded and turned away, Matt stuck his new name tag onto his shirt right below the other.
"So you're gonna wear two name tags?" Shiro asked, following Matt back into the gradually dispersing line at the kitchen counter.
"Identity crisis," Matt answered with a shrug. "So what's your big opening day assignment?"
"Cabin area. Helping with unloading luggage."
Matt chuckled. "Man, you drew the short straw. That's the worst one."
"What'd you get?"
"T-shirt shack. Shade, air-conditioning, and taking people's money. I win."
"I'll trade you."
"Not on your life." He and Shiro finished passing their dishes over to be washed and started heading out of the mess hall. "You know what you should do?"
"What?" Shiro asked.
"You should put on something with long sleeves and loosen your prosthetic where it's attached. Then, when you go to help pick up someone's luggage, let your arm fall off and just start freaking out, act like it's your real arm and this has never happened before. Start some kid's summer off with a nice adrenaline rush."
Shiro rolled his eyes. "Why are you trying to get me fired on the first day, Matt?"
"I'm not. I'm just brainstorming." He slowed as they reached the lobby of the main hall, since this was where the T-shirt shack was. The name was a bit of a misnomer; at one point in the past, sure, it had just sold Camp Altea T-shirts, but they'd expanded ages ago to include Camp Altea hoodies, sweat pants, duffle bags, stuffed animals, canteens, blankets, and baseball caps. Shiro himself had bought a cap for himself back when he was a camper, and he figured he probably still had it somewhere back at home, he just hadn't thought to look for it for years.
The other counselor working the shirt shack, Hira, was already there, and she'd acquired a key from somewhere and was shimmying the lock on the door to get in. Matt, ever the resourceful one, elected to simply haul himself up over the countertop and tuck and roll into the shack. Hira cast him an annoyed glance, which became less annoyed and more smug when Matt knocked his head on one of the shelves while getting to his feet.
"You all right there?" Shiro asked.
"Yeah, yeah," Matt said, rubbing his head where he'd hit it. "Having a flair for the dramatic comes at a price, I guess."
"Is someone's opening-day assignment not as cushy as they were expecting?"
"Still beats the hell out of move-in duty, asshole."
"You know, you can't use language like that around the campers."
"Which is why I'm getting it out of my system now." He smiled. "You know, you do have one advantage from being assigned to move-in."
"What's that?"
"You get to meet your campers before any of the rest of us do. And, hey, you don't have to meet them ten at a time, so learning the names will be quicker. That part always takes me a long time. Like, so long it's honestly kinda embarrassing. Don't get me wrong, I love the campers like my own brothers, but names nowadays are so weird."
Shiro raised an eyebrow. "Like your own brothers, huh? Don't let Pidge hear you talking like that, she'll think they're trying to edge her out."
"Nah, she knows, she gets it. I can't help it. You really start getting attached to the little guys, right off the bat. They're like mold the way they grow on you. I'll bet my whole summer's pay that on closing day you'll be crying like a mother sending her only kid off to college. It's a phenomenon, let me tell you."
"I don't think you'll have to worry about me becoming an emotional wreck anytime soon," Shiro laughed. "I'm just becoming these kids' camp counselor. I'm not adopting them."
"Take it from someone who's done this twice before, Shiro," Matt said, his smirk coming back now in full force. "By the end of the summer, you'll wish you were."
So, hey, summer camp AU. I've wanted to write one for the longest time, I just had to find the perfect fandom to write it for, and I think I finally found the one with Voltron.
Camp's a pretty huge part of my life. My dad is an executive director at a summer camp, and every one of my siblings and I spent most of our summers on campgrounds either as guests, campers, or staff members. My mom and dad actually even first met as co-counselors at camp. I learned how to kayak before I learned to tie my shoes. In this fic, I'm going to be drawing A LOT of influence from my own camp experience, including how Camp Altea is set up in terms of staffing, procedures, activities, and even building locations. And I'll even be sprinkling in some personal camp memories; see if you can figure out which events throughout the fic are Based on a True Story.
Anyway, camp counselor Shiro. Enjoy.
(By the way, for those who are following me for It's Gonna Get Ghostly, the next chapter should be up tomorrow.)
