The next morning, he woke up clear-minded. He decided, while stuffing his personal feelings into a little bottle deep within his heart, that he wouldn't pursue Shiro further. Who was he to risk ruining someone else's life? Keith's heart had been touched by Shiro's genuine kindness and he was too fond already to let him get hurt.

No more back and forth. He was done.

When he texted Lance, he didn't mention his "homework" or colors again.

When he walked through campus, he avoided.

When he saw Shiro, he turned the other way immediately and ran.

It wasn't like he and Shiro had become buddies or anything, but he felt loss in his heart like a slap across his face. It was strong, too strong for their one official conversation.

Pidge had even started ignoring him for some reason and that hurt too.

"You're being ridiculous," he quietly chastised himself several times a day. He found himself staring down hallways he knew led to Shiro's route to his next class. His body wanted to go that way, but his mind stubbornly refused.

Shiro needed to be protected from Keith.

But again, he started sinking into that dark place inside of his head deeper and deeper. Lance's worry grew, leading to a more annoyed Keith, which led to a more worried Lance, which led to a...

Ugh...

It was hard finding a comfortable balance.

Though he had more time to study and he felt like his face was constantly shoved in a book, he wasn't absorbing anything and his grades weren't improving any. At this rate, losing his scholarship was becoming a very real prospect. He somehow couldn't find the motivation to try to stop it.

Keith and Pidges' next lab required the both of them to work together again. She was quiet for most of it, brushing past Keith to grab tools that he could've easily gotten for her.

He let it happen. Though he didn't mind a fight, he hated verbal confrontation and shied away from it at any cost.

But her anger would crack every once in awhile and she'd just look plain sad. Somehow, Keith couldn't stand to see that look on her face.

"Did I do something?" he asked finally. "Why are you upset?"

The anger came flaring back, a wall of fire between them. "You didn't do anything ."

He sniffed hard, an excuse to give himself one more second to gather any patience he had. "What's that supposed to mean?"

She elbowed him in the gut to get him out of the way. It hurt more than he'd expected. "What do you think it means?"

"I seriously don't know. I have no idea what's happening. Was I that drunk at the party? I don't think I actually was."

She shrugged. "Was it the party?"

"Was it because I left when you went to the bathroom? I'm sorry, your brother was freaking me out."

"It wasn't that," she shook her head, looking more angry now that he would assume it was something so minor.

" What did I do? Just tell me. God. Why do I have to play this guessing game like we're kids or something?"

She hissed, hunching over her work. "You're going to make me make a mistake. Just leave it alone."

"Leave what alone ?"

She shook her head sharply, going back to outright ignoring him.

He tossed his hands in the air, giving up.

He really didn't get her. She was so sharp in everything she did. He couldn't possibly keep up without getting cut.

Not that he was ever in a good mood anymore, but he was feeling particularly foul as he made his way through the campus to get home. Fuck his homework, fuck everything, he was just done tonight. The one friend he'd made hated him for a reason he wasn't aware of. Anytime he tried, it seemed like it was just shoved right back up his nose and he was so sick of it. Despite his best intentions, he was just going to grow up alone and miserable and that was that.

Stomping through the quad, nudging too-slow people out of the way, he heard a bend in the air.

He slowed, looking around himself. What was that?

Music. So soft and gentle, like the fluttering of a butterfly's wings.

He turned, following the sound off the pathway and through the grass. It was beautiful. Whoever was playing had a gift. It hardly sounded like an instrument being played anymore, but something from the sky. Something fluid and colorful even without sight. Something pure.

He followed it all the way to the theater, where people were seated in the dark. One figure was highlighted by the spotlight, seated in front of the piano, fingers caressing over the keys.

Maybe he was weakened from his tiff with Pidge. Maybe it was just everything, but he felt his chest being pried apart slowly by the sound of it. He was vulnerable to softness. The song was kind. Nurturing. Keith leaned against the door to the theater and watched, pressing his lips together tightly.

He didn't have to see to know that it was Shiro up there. He could hear it in the music. It was Shiro's soul, spread through the air in waves. Keith spread his hand out wide and let himself feel it. Like gold taffy running through the air, catching the rays of sunlight on its strings.

God. He let his eyes settle on Shiro, whose eyes were closed as he played, completely and wholly absorbed into his music. He was beautiful.

Keith didn't know shit about music, but it didn't matter. He could see Shiro's soul, a cut crystal putting forth rainbows. And it didn't matter that Keith had just spent the past few weeks cursing the new colors for giving him headaches. These rainbows were beautiful, a river of creamy rich paint that highlighted each difference with love and acceptance.

Keith had never been touched by music like this before. He let his head fall against the door as he closed his eyes. Magical. He could live in its light forever.

And then it was over, and there was the sound of clapping - an awful sound in comparison to what they'd just been listening to. Already, his ears ached for that soft flow of waves through the air again.

Keith opened his eyes and saw as Shiro stood, slowly collecting himself. His face had been calm and gentle as he played, but his usual smile cracked over his face again as he stood to his full height and bowed his thanks.

Keith had to clap too - and normally he was a believer in stubbornly refusing to clap - watching in awe. Talented indeed.

"I think I get it," a voice said from behind him.

He jumped on the inside, but managed to force it down for a minimum physical reaction. He turned, looking down at Pidge who was watching him through analytical eyes.

"...Get what?" He asked cautiously, letting his eyes go back to where he'd last seen Shiro. But he was gone, having walked behind the thick red curtains. Keith couldn't catch the sigh that left his lungs.

"...It's him."

"What?" He frowned down at her. "What's him?"

She rose an eyebrow and crossed her arms. "Remember me saying the other night at the party that I was going to figure out who you were waiting for? Otherwise known as totally crushing over? Well, I figured it out."

Keith's frown melted off his face, replaced by horror.

"Don't worry," she said, grinning like a cat. "I won't say anything." And then, seriously, "You should talk to him. You hurt him."

"Huh?"

"Are you seriously this clueless? You talk to him at the party, he tells you he's blind, and you avoid him the next few weeks. Not just I-was-busy sort of avoid, but climb-out-of-windows sort of avoid. What'd you think everyone would think?

"...I'm sorry I was mad at you. I thought you were a total ass. Everyone does actually. Who knew you were avoiding him over something this juvenile?"

Keith watched her mutely, gut sinking as he realized he'd been an idiot, again .

She said, "I'll admit that I don't get it though, not completely. Why are you avoiding him?"

Keith sighed, shoulders sagging. Another musician was playing on the stage, screeching away on their violin and Keith wanted to leave. "I'm not a good person to be friends with. The same warning goes to you."

"You're not avoiding me , though."

He sighed.

"Ah. But then I guess you don't have a massive puppy-dog eyed crush on me like you do Shiro."

"Did I hear my name?" A breathless Shiro asked from behind them.

Keith went ramrod straight, shoving down the urge to dart with all his might.

It was Shiro, eyes bright from his performance, sweat glistening on his forehead. He was smiling happily at the two of them, cane in hand. For once, he was alone.

"Hi, Keith," he said.

"We were just talking about how Keith totally wants to bone you."

Keith choked violently, stabbed by betrayal, but Shiro just laughed warmly. "Katie, if your brother heard you talk like that..."

"He'd what? He's powerless against me and all my might."

"Yeah, yeah," Shiro said with mock-weariness. He was still smiling as brightly as a star. "Ignore her, Keith. She likes to cause trouble."

"I am the trouble."

"She's really as soft as a kitten."

"Say that again! I'll tear you apart!" But she was grinning with familial warmth.

"Hey, Keith," Shiro said, voice still light. "Mind walking with me for a bit?"

"I..." Keith looked over at Pidge, who was smiling knowingly. "Sure."

"See you two kids later," Pidge said, "You were awesome out there, by the way, Shiro. As always."

"Thanks, Katie," he grinned happily.

She turned, giving them a lazy wave and going back into the darkness of the theater.

Keith took a deep breath and turned back to Shiro, nervously trying not to let his eyes dart everywhere like they felt like doing. Flight or fight. If it got any worse, he'd start twitching.

"Where would you like to go?" Keith asked softly.

"Mind walking me to my apartment?"

"Not at all."

They started on their way. It wasn't like Shiro needed help. He was confidently walking down the pathway like he could see what was in front of him.

"I heard you play," Keith said. "That was... I'd never heard anything like it. I could really feel your heart in it."

Shiro's responding smile was brilliant. It was like witnessing a thousand suns. "Thank you. I'm glad you were there. Some performances are better than others; you didn't see me mess up a few times and then leave the stage crying."

"Have you done that?" Keith laughed. He couldn't imagine Shiro ever crying.

"When I was little, yeah. Defeat was crushing. I'd run and hide for hours sometimes. ...I don't know why I'm telling you this. It's actually kind of embarrassing."

"Oh, I still do that even now," Keith said, pressing down a smile. "There's a nice place above the auditorium, on the roof. Maybe next time, you can play a sad song for me when I'm hiding there. With a tiny violin."

Shiro laughed. "Sure, let me know when you need me and I'll come right over."

They chucked together, the air between them soft and light. Silence fell for a few moments and Keith blurted out, "I wasn't avoiding you."

Shiro tilted his head up and pressed his lips together - subtle signs that he was listening.

"I mean...I...I was, but not because you're blind. Pidge told me that everyone assumed that and I'm horrified that's why you think I was avoiding you. It's not that. It's not anything close to that."

Shiro nodded slowly, digesting Keith's words. "Then why? Was it something I said?"

"No, not at all. It wasn't you. It's just..." Keith heaved a sigh. "You said yourself. You've heard the rumors. I'm bad news. Do you know how people will look at you if you hang out with me? It's not worth it."

Shiro pressed down an amused grin. "You were avoiding me because of that?"

"Seriously. I'm like...bad luck or something. You're too nice to curse like that."

"Too nice?" Shiro tried, but he couldn't hold back the laughter that bubbled up and out of him.

Keith frowned. "I'm serious."

"Keith Kogane," Shiro said his name again, softly, that same fondness in it as last time. "I've never known anyone who put so much thought into something. I appreciate it. Really. But, you know, I'm getting older now. I think I can be trusted to make my own decisions, don't you?"

"I didn't mean -"

"Relax, Keith. It's too late to worry about what'll happen when we become friends. We already are."

"We hardly know each other."

"It feels like we do though, doesn't it? It feels easy."

"It does..." Keith said softly, looking out into the distance. There were soft clouds in the sky, fluffy, not stormy. "Say, how do you always know when I'm nearby? I swear you can see."

Shiro chuckled. "It's a stupid reason. You're going to hate it."

"What is it?" Keith asked suspiciously.

"It's not like I have a special radar or something - I wish. You smoke cigarettes, right? Few do here. I can smell you from a mile away."

Keith choked on a laugh. "Okay, you warned me and everything, but somehow I'm still a little disappointed in your explanation."

Shiro laughed deeply. "I wish I had something better to tell you". He thought about it for a moment. "Here's something: I can hear it in your walk too. You have a slight limp in your right leg. An old injury?"

"Yeah..." Keith said slowly, attention seeping down to his leg. "I sort of...had a run in with some kids when I was younger. I thought that had healed though..."

"It's not bad," Shiro amended. "Very slight, but I like to try to pick these things out. Makes it easier to know my scenery."

"So you remember what it's like to see?"

"Yep. I miss it if I think about it for too long. What I wish I could see most is the color of the sky. The purple during the night, speckled with pieces of the galaxy." He heaved a large sigh. "If I had my sight, I'd probably be in all of your classes with you, looking up toward the stars."

Keith stared, stunned. Purple. Shiro knew that the sky had purple at night.

Colors. He had seen colors.

When he was a child.

Before he had met Keith.

Keith reeled for a moment, feeling like his world was being pulled out from under his feet. So it was true; Keith had been right. You could have a soulmate who had someone else.

Despair rose up thick and suffocating throughout Keith's body, choking off his air supply. It was stupid since he had decided he wouldn't take this far with Shiro, but it felt like his future had just been ripped out of his hands. Shiro was cut from the strings of fate in Keith's hands.

Shiro sniffed in the silence. "Um...do you know Allura? She's also an astrophysics major. She's really cool. I think you'd both get along. ...Either that, or totally destroy each other." He laughed.

"Allura...?" Keith said distantly. There was a fondness in Shiro's voice as he spoke of her and it only made Keith feel more sick. Allura , like she was some princess gracing mortals with her presence. "No. No, I don't think so." He took in a deep breath again, turning his gaze away, toward the ground. Awkwardly, he rubbed his arm. "Uh... People are watching, you know. We really should just -"

"- I want to hang out with you," Shiro said firmly.

"But -"

"- Do you not want to hang out with me?"

"It's not that. I just... I think that..." he paused, trying to find the right words for the feelings welling inside of him. "Why?" He finally forced out, miserable. "Why me?"

Shiro laughed softly, but there was no hint of malice in it. He repositioned his hand on his cane and tilted his neck back, thoughts growing in his eyes. "You remind me of someone," he said.

"...I do? Who?"

"Someone special to me," he said, that same short quality to his tone, like he was pushing himself to share something that went beyond what he was comfortable with. But his face was soft and his voice was warm with fondness.

"Oh... I'm not them." Keith said morosely.

"I know," he said quickly, eyes blinking a little wider. "I know. I want to get to know you and that's separate. But it just feels right, you know? Being friends. I can't explain it."

Keith hummed.

"Why were you looking for me the first time we met?" Shiro tilted his head. "As I recall, it was you who approached me first."

"Oh." Keith breathed, flaring red. "I... I was looking for something. And you... I don't know, you just seemed very approachable."

"Hm." Shiro took a moment to digest the thought. "Did you find what you were looking for?"

"Ah, no. Not really."

Shiro hummed again, soft and quiet. He stopped on the sidewalk beneath the light, tilting his head in the direction of the door. "This is me. Thanks for walking me. And for watching my performance. I thought you were mad at me; I'm glad to know you're not."

"Mad? At you? Is that possible?"

Shiro laughed toward the ground. "Oh, it's possible. Believe me. Hey, tomorrow, during lunch break, you should stop by our table. I know Matt pretends that he's scary, but he's the softer of the Holts, and you already seem to be in Katie's good graces. You'll warm him up in no time. I have every confidence in you."

Keith snorted without heat. "Oh, yeah?"

"I'd like to get to know you better."

"...Me too," Keith admitted softly, shuffling his feet. "Maybe I'll...stop by. If I have time." He knew he would, but courage was another thing.

Shiro smiled warmly. "Have a good night, Keith."

"You too," Keith smiled back. Maybe Shiro couldn't see it, but he heard himself as his voice softened and he sounded very much unlike himself.

He decided it didn't bother him for once, and he let himself watch as Shiro opened the door, waved one last time, and disappeared from sight.

Maybe it did feel right. He couldn't explain it. Neither could Shiro. Maybe that was why Keith couldn't let him go.

The next day, during lunch, he grabbed his tray and turned toward Shiro's table. It was long and there were a lot of seats; most were filled. It was a large group and Shiro was swallowed whole in it, a part of them, integrated perfectly.

Keith, a wedge, already felt waves of embarrassment wash over him as he predicted what would happen if he walked over there.

Eyes on him. Eyes in color now, like everything was in HD when he could barely handle the detail of VHS.

It wasn't Shiro this time deterring him, and he felt good about that at least, but he stepped away, into his own little corner of the cafeteria, by himself.

His next period's teacher had an emergency to attend to, so he had a lot of time to kill. He unzipped his backpack and took out some homework. It was spread across his desk, a huge mess. Last, but not least, he grabbed his headphones and blared some music to block out the sound of the crowd.

It was best to study away from his apartment. There was something about its tiny size that made him feel like his brain was small too. He couldn't cram anything in there.

He was halfway through his first paper when a large shadow loomed over him. He jumped, yanking the headphones off his head instantly.

"Whoa. Hey," he breathed, looking up into Shiro's face, who had his head tilted curiously. "Sorry. Did you say something? I had my headphones in."

"Oooh," Shiro said in understanding. "I was calling you. I thought I had found the only other person on the campus who smokes and they were about ready to clock me out."

"Pfft," Keith laughed, shoving his headphones off his neck and onto the table. "Want to sit?"

"Sure," he said.

Keith pushed the chair out beside him; it scraped along the floor obnoxiously before Shiro caught it with one hand. He folded his cane up and shoved it into his back pocket, sitting down and leaning forward to zero in on Keith.

"You didn't come sit with us," Shiro said.

"Yeah... I'm, uh, not the best with crowds. Or people. Especially people in crowds," he laughed nervously.

"I'd be there. Katie would be there."

"I know. I just, uh, thought it'd be better to work on some of my homework." Keith turned his head to look at the table Shiro had been sitting at. They were all still there, tossing curious looks over at them both. Keith hunched his shoulders and angled himself away so he could see outside.

His phone went off.

Quickly, he fished it out of his pocket and denied the call.

He opened his mouth to try to talk over the thought of Lance, when his phone went off again .

"Dammit," he muttered. "I'm sorry. It's - my friend - Just a sec."

He answered it roughly. "Hello?"

"Hey, buddy, I was just -"

"- Now's a bad time. I'll call you later."

"Wait! Mom and Dad want to send you a care package so they need your address."

Keith blinked in confusion. "A care package?"

"Yeah, like, cookies and toothpaste and shit. You know. Care package."

Keith shifted his phone to the other ear, frowning. He tried to imagine coming home to receive something like a care package in the mail and couldn't. "Why?"

"They're worried about you . You know how fond they are of you."

"You mean how much they pity me..." Keith grumbled. "I can't let them send me anything, they have enough to pay for already."

"Okay, you have a certain pitiable charm, that's true, but they care about you as a real live human being too and they want to do it. So, address. Come on, cough it up. I've got a date in ten minutes."

Keith scoffed and rolled his eyes, tilting his chair back dangerously far. "A new girl?"

" No . How about you? How's your new girl?"

"God, shut up. I've got to go. I'll text you the address."

"I'm out of here. Text Mom. Bye."

"Yeah." He hung up and clicked out, scrolling through his contacts to find Lance's mother before deciding it'd be too awkward to send her his address, like he was begging for supplies or something, and ended up just sending it to Lance anyway. "Sorry about that," he muttered as he hit send.

"Your brother?"

"Brother?" His eyebrows shot high into his bangs.

"No? I could hear him from here. He's pretty loud."

"Oh, no. That's just...he's a friend. He just sort of found me, you know?"

Shiro tilted his head like he didn't know.

Keith pressed his lips together and continued, "I was an orphan and he used to hang out by the fences trying to entice other kids over. He's like that... I was curious too, I guess, and didn't really have anyone else, so his mom and dad sort of took me in. If they didn't already have fifty kids and no space, they probably would've adopted me, but..." He bit his lip, not liking where he had taken the conversation. He cringed away from it. "Anyway, they're about the closest thing to a family I have. It's nice... Lance is a pain in the ass though."

"Like any brother should be," Shiro smiled, laughing softly with Keith. "I have a little brother so I feel your pain."

"Oh, yeah? I always wanted a brother...until I got Lance."

Shiro laughed again, crossing his arms to his chest. "I'm sorry to hear about being in an orphanage. That's a tough deal."

Keith hummed, going quiet.

"You don't have to answer, but...what happened to your parents?"

Keith shrugged, caught himself being completely unhelpful again, and then sighed out, "I don't know. My mom left before I could recall her face. My dad...he never talked about it, and then on Christmas Eve, he just disappeared. I despise this time of year; it reminds me of them... I spent a week at our house alone, waiting for him. I had to go into town when I started to starve. No one's found him. Not even a body."

"Wow, Keith, I'm so -"

"-Don't apologize," Keith cut through firmly. "He never did, so...why should you?"

The air was heavy, pressing down on them, suffocating them both.

Keith cleared his throat, forcing a small laugh out of himself. "Wow, that sounded super bitter... ...Seriously, don't worry about it. It was a long time ago."

"My accident," Shiro said suddenly. His hands were clenched into tight fists as he frowned hard at the table. But when Keith turned to look at him, he put on his smile. "You asked about it earlier and I avoided the question. I don't like talking about it, but since you told me something, I'll tell you.

"A little after I first moved here, my grandpa had run of out some ingredient for dinner. I don't remember what it was he needed, something unimportant, but he sent me out to the market nearby to get some more.

"It was dark. The sun had set and the stars were out. I was walking past the park and I could hear kids still playing there. I thought it was weird; maybe they were lost or needed help, so I went over to see what they were doing.

"It was a boy. There was blood everywhere and he was staying off one leg, trembling. There were five others, surrounding him. They weren't playing."

Shiro's voice darkened, his brow furrowing. For the first time since Keith had met him, the light had dimmed from his eyes, and anger was there, real and thunderous even as he tried to suppress it.

"It was horrible. And cowardly. I ran over to try to help, but it startled the boy. He darted away, trailing blood. I just knew I had to help him.

"But I was an idiot and I chased him into a busy road. He almost got hit because of me, but, at the last second, the vehicle veered. He had stumbled. I saw him slip off the road, tumbling down a hill where a canal was waiting at the bottom. My grandpa had always warned me about that canal. It was dangerous. I jumped out to try to help him and...that was the last thing I ever saw. The car that had swerved hit me. There were just these bright lights and... I don't remember anything after that."

Shiro bit his lip. "I'm glad it hit me instead of him. But my greatest regret is that I never got to see what happened to the boy. If he was alright or not. That bothers me the most. It was my fault he ran off like that."

"Jesus, that's awful," Keith whispered. Softly, he said, "isn't that so like you? You lose your sight, but you're still worried about the other guy."

"He could've drowned," Shiro said, leaning back and rubbing his cheek in distress. "I told my grandfather when I woke up, but it was days later. It was too late. No one found anything. It was all my fault. If I had just let him be, he wouldn't have ran from me like that. I wish I had done something differently."

Keith watched Shiro's face, twisted in guilt and conflict. He felt his heart melting even more for the man. Shiro's heart was the biggest he'd ever known. He ached.

You're too good , Keith thought, but he knew saying that wouldn't bring Shiro peace.

"It wasn't your fault, Shiro," Keith said quietly. "Those assholes bullying him started it. You were only trying to help."

Shiro took in a shaky breath, pressing his palm to his forehead. He stayed like that for a moment, breathing in harshly before he settled back into his usual stance, his soft smile slowly warming back up on his face. It was tinged with sadness this time though, as he sighed out, "It was a long time ago."

"Still valid."

"Thanks, Keith," he said, sounding like he meant it. "Sometimes it's frustrating not being able to see. I want to help people who are hurting. But you can't exactly stitch wounds when your world's dark."

"Not all wounds are physical."

Shiro tilted his head up slightly, like maybe he got that a little too well. "Yeah... I guess you're right."

Keith had never shared those sort of things with anyone. Ever. Even Lance didn't know much about his parents, just that they were gone. He barely knew Shiro and he was already spilling out his heart.

It should've felt dangerous, but it didn't.

He had also been trusted with Shiro's turmoil and broken heart and Keith could feel the shards of it in his hand. He held them tenderly. Somehow, though Keith thought that his trust had shriveled up long ago, he found that he knew Shiro would treat his secrets the same.

Shiro was gentle. Shiro was kind.

Keith had never felt this way toward anyone before.

He was almost tempted to text Lance and ask him about these...god, he didn't want to admit it... emotions . But that seemed like a bad idea.

Instead, he rolled onto his bed with a content sigh and stared up at the ceiling, staring at the purples that were sprawled across the shadows, intertwining with the yellow of those lamps outside. Color. Color because of Shiro, his soulmate. Thinking the words made him feel whole.

He imagined Shiro on his bed, fingers tracing over the book in his hand, or maybe sitting on his piano bench, guitar in hand, strumming softly so he wouldn't wake up the entire dorm. He probably had a good voice. When he simply spoke, his voice was distracting. Keith found himself yearning to hear it.

Or maybe Shiro was tired and warm with sleepiness, rolling onto his side and gathering the blankets over himself, eyes closing softly.

Maybe Shiro was awake, like Keith was, mind roaming, thinking about him .

Keith closed his eyes and allowed himself to dream. For the first time in a long time, he was smiling as he fell into slumber.