Keith dragged the towel over his wet hair as he rounded the corner, letting out a long, deep breath. He had expected to feel relaxed after his cool down at the pool, but instead he still felt tight. Stiff. Tense. His sandals flopped loudly with each step he took down the hall, drowning out the tangled mess of his own thoughts.

He glanced over his shoulder, unperturbed by the trail of wet footprints that trailed behind him down the shining hall. Sure some robot come along to collect and recycle the water later, he slung his towel over his shoulders and continued towards his quarters, and his shower.

Keith knew he should have changed in the locker room, but he hadn't wanted to see her. Not again. Not for any longer than he had to. What is wrong with you? He thought. Allura's done nothing wrong. She just wants the same things you do. Keith frowned.

Maybe that was the problem.

"Guys!" Pidge exclaimed. "Check this out!"

Keith paused, and suddenly the Castle of Lions was quiet. Too quiet. The door to Pidge's quarters was open, and they were perched on their bed, their face illuminated by the light of the tablet in their lap. Beside them, Hunk's eyes widened. Lance was stretched out over a bean bag chair on the floor, staring up at the ceiling; pretending not to care.

"Look!" Pidge pointed.

Hulk covered his mouth. "Oh. My. Goodness."

"Hey Keith," Lance glanced up at him.

"Hey," Keith said, sliding his hands into the pockets of his damp swim trunks. "What's going on?"

"Oh nothing," Pidge smirked. "And by nothing I mean nothing out of the ordinary because I was totally RIGHT!"

Keith felt his stomach lurch, but chalked the feeling up to working out then cooling down on an empty stomach. With a flick of their finger, Pidge threw a projection off their tablet and into the air before them.

Shiro: Allura. Where are you?

"Did she respond?" Keith asked, despite how painfully dry his mouth had just become.

"Doesn't look like it," Pidge murmured, their glasses glazing over as they stared intently at the screen. "But I know for a fact they were in the holochamber together last night."

"How?" Keith demanded.

Pidge shrugged. "The mice were talking about it this morning." Beside them, Lance opened to his mouth to speak. "Yes, I can understand the mice, and no, they will not make you a sandwich."

"It's okay, bud," Hunk rested a hand on Lance's shoulder. "I'll make you a sandwich."

Lance sighed, but didn't look too crestfallen. "Maybe when we get back home, Hunk."

That was the difference between him and the rest of the paladins. They missed home, when he had none. They yearned for the food and their families and their friends. There was nothing waiting for him there. Nothing but an empty house in the desert, covered in dust. What he wanted wasn't back on Earth; it was here, in the unknown stretching out into the universe.

He had hoped it would be different, off world. But the same loneliness trailed him even here, like a shadow. But he had hoped –

The look on Shiro's face as she extended her hand to him flashed in Keith's memories, and he felt something warm at the edge of his eye. He wiped it away with the back of his hand. Must have just been the chemicals in the pool. He would have to wear goggles next time.

"Shiro is one smooth operator," Hunk grinned.

"Shiro's not like that," Keith said, tugging at the ends of the towel draped around his neck.

"Not like what?" Pidge asked, quirking a brow.

Hunk snorted. "Not into pretty girls like Princess Allura?"

"Oh my god," Lance sighed dramatically as he flopped onto Pidge's bed. "I would give anything for Allura to be into me."

"We know," Hunk and Pidge said irritably in unison.

Unfazed, Lance just closed his eyes and drifted away to somewhere else; to an alternative universe where his unrequited feelings were met with open arms. Keith couldn't say he blamed him. He had always felt that whatever it was that he felt for Shiro would remain just that; unrequited. Shiro, who was older, and accomplished, and utterly out of reach had been his mentor. And Keith had just been a kid with a schoolboy crush. But they weren't on garrison grounds anymore. At the uncharted fringes of the universe, they were living their lives on the edge of the impossible every day.

And Keith wasn't a boy anymore.

"I mean," Pidge adjusted their glasses. "Do you think that they - "

It wasn't like this type of gossip had been uncommon back on base. The topic of conversation rarely strayed too far from who had been caught in a supply closet together, or which exes were paired together for drills that week. It had never bothered him before. But Shiro had always been with Adam, before.

Keith felt the heat rise in his face as Pidge continued on their tangent. Between them, Hunk laughed. His face settled into a frown. Keith's thoughts drifted to Allura extending her hand to Shiro again; how he reached for her. Keith balled his hands into fists around his damp towel. How she had paused at the doorway of the gym, her voice low. How Shiro had looked at her. How Allura's face had fallen, when she realized it was him, not Shiro that had come to the pool after their morning session.

"What's your problem, Keith?" Lance propped his chin up on his hand. "I mean, I want Allura to look at me like she looks at Shiro as much as the next guy, but come on," he sighed, sadly this time. "They just make sense."

"No," Keith snapped. "They don't."

"Woah, someone didn't get their wheaties this morning," Lance joked, but still, Keith saw how he recoiled from him. "Look, all I'm sayin' is -"

"They're adults and what they do with their time is really none of our business," Hunk winked.

"Whatever," Keith muttered. "I'm out of here."

"Keith!" Lance exhaled his name as his head lolled back over the beanbag chair. But Keith knew it was just an excuse to speak. His brow furrowed, but still, Lance continued. "Come on, don't be like that."

Keith exhaled sharply and stalked out of the doorway. If there had been a door to slam, he would have. But he knew where he could find the next best thing in the Castle of Lions.

The red paladin brushed his wet hair back from his forehead. Shifted his weight in his armor. He took a deep breath, and closed his eyes.

The canon let off a shot without a sound, but still, Keith heard it. Maybe he felt it, the change in air pressure in the training room. It hardly mattered. He was far too furious to care about why. All he cared about was how he was going to hit his target.

The paladin spun on his heel, sliding his bayard out of the holster at his hip. Instead of extending a red blade, a pointed disk ejected itself from the weapon, and it hurtled through the air towards the clay target sailing toward the ceiling.

It hit.

The target exploded. Bits of black clay clattered to the white floor, and Keith smirked. The canon let another target loose. He closed an eye. Watched. Hit it anyway. Shards of smoking black clay hit the wall. The canon shot again. And again. The recoil of the red bayard in his hands felt good. Each time it let off a shot it sent a subtle shock of energy through his hands, up his arms. He could feel it, pressing on his chest. Keeping its contents in place.

"Computer!" Keith barked. "Evasive maneuvers."

The black oculus peering out of the white wall turned red.

The canon shot another target, this time, directly at Keith. He raised his bayard. Squeezed the trigger. Black clay laid smoldering at his feet. But there was already another target coming right at him. The paladin sidestepped it, and the target exploded against the wall behind him.

"Computer!" Keith cried, raising his bayard again. "Increase speed!"

Multiple targets hurdled toward him, but still, Keith's bayard landed. Explosions of red hit black in midair. His chest rose and fell beneath his armor. The targets blurred before Keith's eyes.

"You can do this," he murmured, bearing down on the grip of his bayard.

You can do this, he thought.

And suddenly he was sixteen again, at target practice with his squadron. The sun was high that summer day. The earth hot and dry. You can do this, Keith thought. Show them what you can do. He had knocked more cans off the fences that snaked the property line back home in the desert than he could count. He shifted his weight. Pulled his shoulders back, and smirked. No problem.

Something moved at the end of the line. Keith's eyes widened. Shiro was standing past the last target, arms behind his back. For a moment, Keith almost could have sworn he was smiling. The cadet felt his heart rate spike and jerked his gaze back to the target line. Shiro was the only one who seemed to know what they were doing around here. He could shoot, fly, and - Keith swallowed. Lead. He did not allow himself to look back. Instead, he took a deep breath and told himself it was just nerves. Stupid jitters.

So he inhaled. Raised his pulse rifle, and closed an eye. Focused. No problem, Keith told himself silently. Just pretend it's a can.

"Cadet."

Keith froze.

"Don't close your eye like that," Shiro said, quietly. He was standing so close that Keith could smell his aftershave.

Keith swallowed.

"It'll improve your form."

A drop of sweat rolled down his brow.

"Yes, sir," he replied, though he was sure he had never called anyone Sir sincerely in his life. But there was something about Shiro that made him feel -

Keith squeezed the trigger -

And a black clay target exploded just before it hit him in the face.