You, you
The name I miss.
Your breathing, your voice.
Your sounds that are painful even in my dreams.

Sori - Lee Suhuyn

That night after the rocket was launched, Keith coughed up a single red rose petal.

The doctor said there's only one rose plant in his lungs thus far, and there was only two ways that things could go for him: make your unrequited love fall for you, or a surgery that would remove the plants, but also your every memory of them.

They hadn't told him that he had a third option, and it was to never say a word and succumb to the flowers that were nestling in his chest. Keith figured that one out on his own.

The disease's progression was slow, but it was there. And some days it felt like a bad sore throat. On others, it felt like he would need to rip his entire respiratory system out just to hack out a petal. The worse were the thorny stems that scratched his windpipe and the back of his throat painfully. Sometimes they also pierced into his mouth when he managed to dislodge them, and he could only take it and move on.

"I'm not going through the surgery." He expressly said to Iverson.

"So you're going to do whatever to woo that love of yours."

"I can't do that either, sir."

Keith almost laughed at his situation. His life had been a series of one misfortune after another: his mother left, his father died, his school teachers thought he was a good-for-nothing, and now, he had a disease that stemmed from his unrequited love that was out in space, also sick of some illness that Keith wasn't privy to. The universe was hellbent on making him miserable or something.

And now, it was Shiro's turn for Keith to empathise.

Inches from signing his name as witness on the document that declared Keith's refusal to go through the surgery unless otherwise mentioned. Iverson stared at him as if he was insane. And maybe he was.

"Kogane, you realise that this is your life on the line. It's not a game."

"Yes, sir."

"And you will die unless you get it medically treated or get your unrequited love to fall for you."

"Yes, sir."

"I don't know if you're plain stupid or hard of hearing right now."

He removed himself from the datapad to look at Keith. There was something intimidating in his unimpressed eyes that made Keith turn his gaze down to his desk for a second. But there was also a hint of pity as he sighed. "It's Shirogane, isn't it?"

Keith's eyes widened slightly before he caught himself again. "With all due respect, sir, it's something I would rather not discuss with you."

"Absolute idiots, the lot of you." Iverson huffed amusedly and knowingly. "You really got yourself into some pickle here, cadet."

"I'm sorry, sir."

"It's not something you can control." Iverson shook his head and handed the datapad back to Keith. "But I won't sign this. I won't sign your death warrant, cadet."

Keith took the datapad back in his hand, saluting and prepared to leave before he was stopped again.

"Kogane, don't fuck your life over for this. You still have a lot to give, son."

The endearment was unusual for Keith, most of all from Iverson, who was giving him that worried look that he had always given him whenever Keith got himself into trouble. He thought he might have gotten used to it by now, but he hasn't, and it caught him off guard.

"Yes, sir." He nodded and left the office.

Iverson was wrong about one thing.

He was right about Keith being an absolute moron, but he was wrong about Keith having much to give to anyone. Everyone who he had ever asked for help from - his dad's friends, his teachers and classmates - became disappointments that only tire him. He didn't owe the world anything when all it had ever done for him was beat him til all he could feel was the hollowness of solitude.

He didn't owe anyone but Shiro, because Shiro wasn't just anyone . He was the man who saw Keith taking his car for a joy ride that very first day they met to prove hat he was everything of a 'disciplinary case' as his teacher had called him. Yet he gave Keith a second chance. Shiro, who was observant, and understood Keith's frustrations and never gave up on him.

And Keith understood why Shiro did what he did.

Some things were deep rooted desires in your heart, and living without such motivation in life made it stale and meaningless. For Keith, it were the memories he had with this kind man that gave him more opportunities than he deserved - the years of happiness that he had experienced at the Garrison. Forgetting and going back to life before where he was in the constant search to find that happiness again, seemed closer to death.

Perhaps if Shiro was there, he would echo Iverson's words into Keith's ear, and Keith might have listened to him. But Shiro wasn't there, and Keith only had his own thoughts to listen to.

Sooner than he expected, Keith was called back into Iverson's office, and the man seemed to have aged exponentially within the span of seven months. He had expected his quarterly report, but Iverson was brooding as he walked in, and Keith knew he couldn't have done that badly to make Iverson that upset.

"I owe it to Shiro to tell you this before you learn about it from the media," he said solemnly.

"Sir?"

The man stared blankly at Keith, as if he hasn't entirely processed what he needed to say. "The Kerberos crew had crashed landed before they reached their destination. No one survived."

Keith held his breath. "That's a lie."

"Excuse me?"

"Sir, you can't possibly tell me that the Kerberos crew had died in an accident caused by the pilot."

Iverson's intense gaze remained. "That is the truth."

"Sir, you and I both know that Shiro is the best pilot that had ever come out of this place."

"And people make mistakes."

"You're telling me that Takashi Shirogane, with two missions under his record before he was even twenty-five, had crashed the spaceship. That is absolute bullshit!" Keith's hands were bracing on the desk now, and he towered over Iverson still impassive and sitting in his chair.

"Believe what you want to, Kogane." He stacked a piece of paper onto the pile next to him, and it was strange, because Iverson almost never touches the paper on his desk. He had always prefered digital copies on his datapad.

"It doesn't change the fact that they're all gone, now. People don't survive in outer space without a spaceship." There was finality to his tone, and he looked tired, and Keith could sympathise if he weren't so caught in disbelief.

"Sir, please, I need the truth." He pleaded. It couldn't be real. He couldn't take Iverson's words for what it was and he didn't dare to. Believing in those words was like toppling his life from the very foundations. He couldn't, he couldn't.

The commander sighed heavily, his face downcasted. "It's the only truth I'm allowed to give you."

There was something that he was holding back, and there was enough proof in his silence to tell Keith that it wasn't Shiro's fault. It wasn't a pilot error, and they might have already made it there before something had gone awry.

It wasn't Shiro's fault. But of course the media didn't know that. And it didn't change the fact that the crew was most likely dead.

The news hit the Garrison the next day, and there was a buzzing on every nook and cranny of the facility as Keith got out of class. And there were pitying stares at him, because everyone knew of the upstart rebel that caught the Garrison's star and their relationship. But the pity resembled nothing like the guilty sympathy that Iverson gave him. These were cold, curious, and at times rude. Keith couldn't stand it. And Keith ran, again, to get away from it all.

He took a hoverbike to the desert and took the dive off the cliff with ease, despite his eyes burning the entire time. And he rounded around the rocks, stopping on that one cliff where they've spent so many different days watching the sunset.

The sun began to set in the horizon again, painting the sky in a gradient of orange and yellow whilst the shadows in the landscape began to peak, evoking a haunting beauty through the contrast in the colours. And Keith cried, pouring his anguish and pain and longing into every gasp and tears that the ground soaked up in earnest. He cried, choking in between breaths as he coughed stems, leaves, petals and blood from his lungs.

When the darkness settled, the colours disappeared from the sky. But on the ground beside Keith lay scattered red rose petals, thorned green stems and leaves, and brown dried up splatters of blood. And in his hand: a whole rose, bright red painted in crimson blood.

"Come on, let's go." Adam tapped him on the shoulder.

Keith looked at him confusedly, because he hadn't registered the entirety of Adam's words. It seemed people had a knack for surprising him with words, these days. Most startling was when James Griffin, of all people, discreetly and thoughtfully told him about the thorns that had started to protrude on his neck.

"Come on, we need to leave now before the tailor closes," he beckoned again.

The funeral was scheduled to be in two weeks, and Keith had to get a suit since the last one he ever wore fitted only his ten years old self. Whilst he insisted to get a premade one from the nearest shopping mall, Adam immediately forbid him.

"You realise I can't afford getting a tailored suit," Keith sighed. They've already discussed this, but Adam just won't let him be for some reason.

"Who says you're paying it?"

"Seriously, don't…"

It felt like Adam was trying to step into a role that Shiro had once been for Keith - the caring figure that really didn't have any business to help him but they did out of the goodness in their hearts. Or maybe he just wanted Keith to dress his best at the funeral of his ex-lover. Keith didn't know how to feel about it.

Adam was giving him that unimpressed stare again. "This isn't debatable. It's an order, cadet."

So Keith wrapped his neck well with bandages and pulled over his only turtleneck. That reminded him. He needed to get more of these shirts.

He had a few strange stares as he walked out behind Adam - he would admit, it was a weird to see them together both dressed down and heading for the town thirty minutes away. And someone from one of his classes even waved at him.

It seemed that a lot of people from his cohort had realised his flower coughing, and they were all kind enough to feign ignorance at Keith's conditions where it wasn't life threatening.

It was strange, to say the least, to see those around him gather and support him. But then this had also happened when his father died. Where there were few months of immense support and sympathy that tapered off as Keith headed into middle school and high school.

And now, post-high school and once burned, Keith quelled his expectations for the kindness to continue after the funeral was done.

"I'll pay you back," he promised Adam as the tailor pulled his tape measures around him.

Adam glanced up from the rows of ties he was looking at and waved him off. "That's ridiculous."

"You don't have to do this for me, just because Shiro would."

"I'm doing this for you because you need a suit." Adam merely said and draped a black tie around his neck. "And Shiro wouldn't do this, because if Shiro was here, then you wouldn't need it in the first place."

And there was a bitterness in his voice, but behind it were the grief that cut deep. They were both still reeling from the painful whip that was the Kerberos crew's death, and they were both reeling from the death of their loved ones.

Keith pulled him into a hug, one they both needed. "Thank you, Adam."

"It's the least I could do," he replied, patting Keith firmly on the back.

The funeral was a big affair at the Garrison.

Keith dressed well in the tailored suit, collared up and wrapped with the black tie that finished the ensemble. His neck was bandaged tightly in crisp, clean bandages. And he brought a bouquet of chrysanthemums, hydrangea and roses, all in ivory white.

Adam followed him towards the caskets, done up in his service dress suit. And like the caskets, Keith felt empty. His tears were nearly but not quite brimming his eyes enough to fall. He hardly registered his own footsteps nor Adam's hand on his shoulders. And he only managed to realise it was his cue to set the flowers when he felt that same hand squeezing his shoulder.

As he turned back to walk down the steps, he saw Adam's distant gaze, and his mouth pressed into a thin line as if staring into the visualised spirit of Takashi Shirogane right there on the steps.

Suddenly, Keith couldn't breath.

He was wheezing, and his lungs were burning as he tried suck breath inwards, pulling the thorns down and scratching against his insides. He needed to cough it out. He needed to get off the steps quickly. Uncontrollably, his body began to force the obstruction upwards as he coughed. Keith tried to cover his mouth - to at least silence himself somewhat - and turned his face away from the people coming up behind him. But it only served to irritate his throat more.

"Keith, you alright?" He felt a hand on his back and he shook his head as best as he could whilst choking.

He heard Adam encouraging him, and rub a hand on his back. And he could taste the blood in his mouth - at least that meant something was moving up.

There was a hand trying to pull him down the steps, and he tried to follow before an intense and painful cough had him spewing three petals and a leaf into his fingers with a small puddle of blood slowly seeping through his hands and onto the fresh white flowers below.

He decided that red wasn't the most appropriate colour at a funeral.

Sitting in the medical centre, he had a vague recollection of the event and relied on Adam to recount most of it. And he wished he hadn't asked about how much of a scene he had caused.

"Sorry for ruining the suit," he apologised. His white dress shirt had splodges of blood here and there, but the dress pants and blazer definitely had an entire bloody hand print on there somewhere.

"Don't apologise. It's your suit. And you apologise too much, Keith." Adam smiled at him reassuringly.

"Right, I'll keep that in mind the next time I'm hacking out flower petals at a funeral."

"It's because of Shiro, isn't it?" The way he said it made Keith stiffen - too knowledgeable and entirely unsurprised. Keith didn't reply.

"Don't worry, I've had a feeling it was him for a long time now," Adam said. "Though I only wish things hadn't come down with all three of us suffering."

He squeezed Keith's shoulder. "You deserve better." And he left the room, leaving Keith to ponder over the bloody rose petals in his blazer's pocket.

Keith had it coming since the day Iverson called him to his office to announce Shiro's death. He had received disciplinary warnings from the instructors for his tardiness and general lack of participation in classes. It was only a matter of time before he couldn't even bring himself to continue this path. His health wasn't the biggest problem - he had medication that made him slightly drowsy but not useless - but his motivation was.

It also didn't help that Iverson practically lost his head when Keith told him that he wasn't going to get the surgery, despite Shiro's assumed death.

Regardless, he went out in a blazing fire when he left the Garrison, beating every one of Shiro's simulation scores.

"Shiro would be proud." Adam laughed at his eccentricities because of course Keith would go all lengths to fuck with Shiro's ego even posthumously. And then Keith stacked the boxes containing years of accumulated things at the corner of the shack, promising to get through them tomorrow.

Exactly a year after the funeral, between a bottle of spirits and the a lot of smoke, Keith tainted the polaroid of them with his red fingers and tears. Cigarettes were a funny thing, he found. They were a surefire way to ruin him in the long run, but they also reduced the growth in his lungs now. Keith wasn't exactly picky with his path towards the end, anymore.

Even on a night as sombre as this, the sky remained clear and the stars continued to shine brightly against the darkness around it. Stars have always been Shiro's thing.

Keith wondered if flowers in his lungs could be the embodiment of Shiro's spirit calling for him from the other side. It was easier to think of it in this way than to remember it as his cowardice. At least then, Shiro would still be somewhere out there instead of dead in the vastness of space.

"Where are you, Shiro?" he asked the night sky, as if it would respond to him.

And in his gut there was a call a yearn to head into some parts of the desert but Keith couldn't understand why. It was strong, and it felt invigorating. But in that moment, he didn't want it. He took another drag and put it at the back of his mind for a later day.

The later days caught him in a new obsession with a cave and ancient carvings on the wall. All of which told a story of a godly lion with unlimited powers, destined to save the world from an unknown threat.

One night, something crashed in the desert. Keith grabbed his bandanna, the knife and pulled on his jacket. He had a feeling that he needed to go, he needed to get to the crash, just because .

A tent had already been set when he arrived, and he snuck around, scoping the landscape and set up of the camp. And then he heard it: a cry, a shout that was vaguely familiar, in one of the lit up tents.

"You have to listen to me!"

And there it was again, that confusing draw gravitation pulling at him, stemming from more than just deadly curiosity.

Keith ran back to his bike and planted explosives in the distant before racing back around the opposing side of the camp. The bombs went off in order with loud noises followed by yelling and screaming of the staff, all running towards the distraction.

He smirked behind his bandanna and kept low as he rounded the tent. He punched someone in the face, just as he was at the entrance. And damn that hurt , he thought as he shook his hand slightly. He didn't remember it being that bad when he punched Griffin in the face.

Another person in a hazmat suit was quickly approaching him to protect whatever's on the table. He delivered a hard kick into their middle, and few more punches, effectively knocking out the other two.

And on the table was Shiro.

Keith found it hard to breath - he needed to get them out of there fast before Keith started to burn his throat raw by coughing again.

Later, sitting on at the bedside where Shiro was still unconscious, and three other Garrison cadets scattered around on couch that Keith realised the unfathomable had just happened.

Shiro fell from the sky, as if some celestial being had answered Keith's question. But Shiro was different. He had changed so much over the year, almost an entirely different person. His right arm was gone, replaced with a prosthetic that looked unlike anything on this planet. The hair on his forehead had turned white permanently. Keith ran a hand over his eyebrows to smooth the wrinkles forming there. Shiro looked worn, as if he had aged more than a decade despite having only been gone for two years.

"Take a break, Keith." Pidge - as Keith had come to learn her (his?) name - suggested. "I'll call you when he wakes up."

He was going to deny the offer, until his throat was ticking again. Keith excused himself from the shack to dislodge another leaf. He breathed out a curse, and washed his hands. But at least the very illness he so dreaded was telling him the very real fact that Shiro was back, and Shiro was alive, and this wasn't another one of his dreams.

Keith had too many dreams in which he had woken up, miraculously cured or had never been so cursed in the first place. In his dreams, Keith lived a blissfully normal life without the flower hacking, and sometimes, he was with Shiro.

And he was with Shiro now, still ridden with flowers growing in his damned lungs, but he was happier than he had ever been for a while, because at least this was real. Keith could have his life back.

"Keith?" He turned around, and there was Shiro standing and waiting in his father's old clothes that he had left out. And Keith ran to him, arms open.

It had been almost two years since he had been under the same sky as Shiro.

A/N: The scene with Keith and Adam attending Shiro's funeral was inspired by erion's art on tumblr. Erion is no longer there, but i did reblogged the art so the link is available in this story's chapter 2 on ao3. Also i found out that Adam isn't a character that can be added as a tag on FFN LMAO IM ACTUALLY LAUGHING. i cant believe Kaltenecker the cow has a character but Shiro's ex fiance doesnt.