Session 3

From the corner of his eyes, Shiro discreetly watched as the clock above Shirani's head inched closer to the next hour. Fourteen minutes left and he thought he had a good chance at grasping the win with this day's silent game.

He'd lost the previous battle, unable to stop himself from speaking, and Shiro was determined not to lose this one too.

Thirteen minutes left.

He chanced a glance across the way towards Shirani who was sitting back in her wicker chair with the mismatched blue curtains blowing behind her. The curtains seemed to envelope her and he found himself wondering about his therapist. She was young; and while Shiro knew that being young didn't mean she hadn't experienced much in life, it still didn't reassure him. Even though Earth was still recovering. Even though the universe itself was still recovering. Even though Shirani surely was still recovering herself from the Galra's reach.

It still didn't make him want to open up to her and place his trust in her.

Trust.

Everything seemed to boil down to that little five-letter word as of late.

Twelve minutes left.

Trust was hard to come by but who was he to talk? Who was there to listen? Those who came to him only saw him as the hero who formed Atlas and carried them to victory. The Champion who secured freedom. The lost Paladin who the Black Lion loved so much that he was bought back.

And perhaps Shirani spoke the truth last session. Who would ever see beyond the mask?

Who would want to?

Eleven minutes left.

Shirani didn't move, only her eyes do as they drifted over to him; her notepad laid abandoned next to her, tucked between her side and the wicker chair's armrest.

The silent game continued and Shiro didn't budge in return as the clock ticked away.

Ten minutes left.

His arm was tired from its place on its side and his feet has fallen asleep fifteen minutes into this battle.

Nine minutes left.

"Shiro, what's on your mind right now?"

Shirani made a play as if to write something in her notepad but stopped herself; it was a slip but Shiro was glad to see it. To see that she too was human and not infallible. To see that he wasn't the only one with something to lose.

Eight minutes left.

"Nothing's on your mind?"

She broke first. It was only fair that he answered. "I'm questioning why the Garrison is paying you to sit with me in silence."

Shirani grinned that shark smile and Shiro sat up straighter, his back never leaning against the couch.

"We're sitting in silence because you refuse to tell me why you're here."

His nails were hard against his palms, digging in as he retorted, "I don't need to be here."

Shirani's voice was sickeningly calm. "Then why are you here? What's stopping you from leaving?"

"I…," he trailed off, suddenly feeling lost, and no longer feeling sure if he wanted to find out what it was. "I- What is it exactly you want from me?"

Seven minutes left.

Her voice was sickeningly calm. "This isn't about what I want, Shiro, It's about what you want, and to be perfectly honest, I'm not sure you're ready for therapy."

His nails drew blood. "How can you say something like that?"

She shrugged, eyes still narrow, still sharp, still pinning him down. "Easy. You're… not… ready… for… therapy." She said it in a tone fit for an unruly child and something ugly rose from his stomach, settling in his chest.

"Why-"

"Shiro, you're not ready to open yourself up. You're not ready to talk… about anything. And until you are, we sit here."

A beat, two, ticked by and the only sounds were the clock and the wind blowing in; a storm was brewing in the distance.

"I can only help you if you're willing to help yourself, Shiro."

He sat up straighter in his chair. "I am willing."

Six minutes left.

"Then prove it. Talk to me. Tell me… something. Anything." Shirani paused, another deliberate act because she was giving Shiro a chance to do what's right. But he didn't and just stayed his hand.

She hummed in displeasure but her voice retained the same softness he had once thought she was incapable of. "You hide behind your well-constructed walls. I can't get in unless you let me. No one can get in. And no one will be able to get in unless you let them."

Five minutes left.

If he had been in the wicker chair, the armrest would've cracked under the pressure already. "And what exactly do you want me to say?"

"You can start by answering my question. Why are you here?"

And Shiro detonated, something ugly marring his face, changing it from what he was to something he had never thought he could be until he was caught amongst the stars and fell into darkness.

He was on his feet before he knew it, yelling, "Because I'm a mess inside! Because I hate myself and I'm sick of hating myself! Because I had dreams with Adam and that's gone! Because I feel like I've failed everyone! Because I used to know everything, but now I can't even remember what Adam's voice sounds like! What his hands felt like! Because I failed at keeping Earth safe and thousands died! I'm here because I don't know what to do and I'm afraid I'm failing the team right now like I've failed Adam! I'm here because I can't go back to my apartment without seeing ghosts!"

His voice cracked. His eyes burned.

Thunder rumbled outside and the curtains blew harder.

Shirani sat, umoving.

"I just-," Shiro stopped, took a breath, ignored the tremors in his arm, and said softly so that the rain almost drowned him out, "I just want to be whole again. I want the pain to stop. I want to breathe. I want to stop lying to everyone about how I'm fine when I'm not. I want to feel good about myself and the decisions I've made. I want to love myself. But I can't. I just… can't do it on my own. And that's why I'm here."

Four minutes left.

Shirani was just as soft so that Shiro had to take half a step towards her before he stilled himself. "You're not a failure, Shiro. In fact, you're so much more stronger than you think you are."

Shiro said nothing, spent.

"I can help you see that but you have to change your mindset before any real changes can occur. As long as you think negatively, everything's going to be negative. You keep thinking like that, then you're going to miss out on all the good things and the good people you already have in your life because you're so caught up seeing the bad in everything."

He carefully didn't look at his arm as the wind whipped the curtains harder; he wondered if the curtains would survive this storm. He wondered if he would. "I only see the bad because that's all that's happened to me."

Lightning flashed for a second before the room went dark again. "Do you consider the last three years you've been to space bad? Do you consider finding Voltron bad? Do you consider saving Earth… bad?"

Three minutes left.

Another beat. Another tick. Then, quietly, Shiro whispered, "No…. not all of it was bad."

Shirani blinked, still unmoving in her seat, and Shiro was suddenly aware of how young she looked. How weary.

"So not all of it was bad, huh," she repeated.

Two minutes left.

"You're quiet again. Are you angry?," she asked after another thunder sounded in the air like a gun.

Shiro took a breath and tried to think of other words than the ones crawling out his mouth. But the honest and cold words escaped before he could stop. "Yes. But not at you."

Shirani moved for the first time in a long time, crossing her legs. "And who are you angry at, Shiro?"

He looked up into her eyes; they were brown, deep, warm, and so unlike the smile she gave him the first day. Those eyes blinked and he looked away, out the window, muttering, "Myself."

Shirani made no move towards her notepad; it had sank between the crevices of the wicker chair's seat cushion long ago. "Why?"

Shiro continued his watch outside the window where the sky was grey and where the rain danced. His words were once again a whisper against his chapped lips. "Because I've done so much wrong. I've hurt so many people and now I have to fix it."

One minute left.

"Hindsight is always twenty-twenty, you know." Shirani took off her glasses and Shiro could see the wrinkles around her eyes.

"Yeah. Unfortunately, I do."

They both looked at the clock at some unspoken agreement. The hands ticked closer to their appointed time in response.

"I think we've made a lot of progress in the last fourteen minutes," Shirani said, never getting up from her seat. She gestured to the door as the familiar chime rang that signalled the session was over.

"Same time next week?"

Shiro nodded and left with no words and into the rain.