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Next year Shiro’s birthday will come with a long series of astral conjunctures:
1)it’ll be a leap year, so Shiro’s birthday will be Shiro’s birthday for real
2)it’ll be the birthday after Shiro’s break-up with Adam
3)it’ll be the birthday before Shiro’s departure for Kerberos
4)it’ll be a Saturday, so a free day for him
Keith has every intention to put up a four reason for this day to be special: spending the day with Shiro and giving him the best present ever.
Giving a present at all will be nice enough, since in the past years Keith gave him just a present card drawn by him and a small call before Shiro spent the day with Adam.
It isn’t enough for Keith: he wants that day to be something Shiro can remember with happiness and fondness. He wants to see Shiro big, amazing smile again.
He got his idea, he has an estimate of the money needed and the time to reach that amount. He still can’t be sure it’ll work entirely but, first, he needs the money.
The worst part of his secondary job is not having free time anymore, which means, for Keith, not time to spend with Shiro.
There is some irony in the fact that Keith’s attempt to do something for Shiro steals time he can spend with Shiro.
At first, it wasn’t so bad, because Shiro was busy with test and simulation for preparing himself for the Kerberos’ mission. He wasn’t around as much as before. But Commander Holt’s preparations have an interruption period around December, which Keith dreads.
He knows he won’t be able to hide Shiro about the secondary job.
And, as a matter of fact, Shiro intercept him in the Garrison cafeteria the day after his return to the base with Commander Holt. He’s enthusiastic about all the training and Keith lets him blabbering about it for a while, enjoying the familiarity of seeing him eating a gigantic mac and cheese portion.
Shiro wipes out the cheese from his mouth and smiles.
“Racing this weekend?”
“I can’t.” Keith keeps his breath.
Shiro’s smile fell. “Oh, okay. Next week then?”
“I can’t,” Keith repeats, with a sigh. “I’m… working at a fast food on the Sixth on weekends.”
A mix of emotion crosses Shiro’s face, staring with a frown to a worried pout. “Keith. Secondary jobs are for people that prefer not continuing the career as Garrison officers.”
“I know.”
“Did something happen? Because I can-”
“It’s not that,” Keith interrupts him, angry for having worried Shiro. “I need some money, that’s it. My clothes are getting smaller for me. I’m growing up. And I need a new pair of shoes too.”
Talking too much should be enough to not betray himself.
“Oh,” Shiro mutters. “I can buy something for you. I have enough found and, after all, I’m about to leave for a thirteen months long holiday paid by the Garrison.” He chuckles. “You don’t have to work.”
Keith shakes his head. “I don’t want your money, Shiro.”
“You can give them back later, really, it isn’t a problem.”
“I can handle it,” Keith assures him. “It’s just for a couple of months.”
Shiro looks at him and presses his lips together. “You’ll have the mid-semester exams on January. You sure you’ll be okay?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.” Shiro lets himself smiling. “But I’m still getting you a couple of new pants for Christmas.”
“You don’t even celebrate Christmas,” Keith points out. “And I don’t either.”
“Well, fine, then. But if you still receive something, don’t blame me but Santa. That man can’t keep things for himself.”
Keith laughs.
He missed Shiro so much.
Keith wakes up in the infirmary’s bed, with an IV in his arm. Shiro’s there too, and he smiles as soon as he notices Keith’s gaze on him.
It’s enough to bring Keith back to reality. “The tests...!” He tries to stand up, gripping Shiro’s arm to lift himself up. Shiro, gently but firmly, places his hand on Keith’s shoulders and push him back on the mattress.
“Don’t worry,” he says. “Doc said you have severe dehydration caused by excessive use of energetic beverage. I spoke with Iverson, they’ll permit you to take the tests next week. You passed all the writing tests, so they consider unwarranted have you fail on your best strength. You can rest for now.”
Keith’s sure it was Shiro’s influence more than Keith’s results that convinced the professor, but he still takes a relief breath.
“You force yourself enough,” Shiro murmurs, revealing his worries behind his smile. His hand is caressing Keith’s hair. “Sure now you’ll have enough money for new clothes.”
“And I don’t need the shoes anymore,” Keith adds, remembering the red wrapped present he found out in his dorm the Christmas morning. “But no. I still need to work.”
Tickets bought. Apartment rents. Translator paid. But he needs some money in case something goes wrong.
“Keith-”
“Just two more weeks, Shiro, I promise.” He turns his head to look at him. “And I won’t accept double shifts anymore. I will rest, I’ll take my exams and then work for just two more weeks.”
“Fine,” Shiro nods at last. “But tell me if you need any help, okay?”
“There is something,” Keith says. “The 29th. Can we spend the day together?”
Shiro’s eyes widen a little. Even if they don’t express it with words, they both know what that day is.
“Of course,” he smiles softly. “It’ll be nice.”
Shiro does remember the promise because the 29th morning he shows himself at Keith’s door in the dorm, his casual clothes with the leather jacket on and the smart smirk who’s about to do something the Garrison won’t approve.
Keith really missed it.
He left Shiro to decide how to spent the day, and Shiro’s decision for his birthday was to racing with the hoverbikes all days in the desert – he even prepared the lunch, two very bad sandwiches.
“Thank you for today,” Shiro says, when they’re returning towards the Garrison base in the late afternoon.
“I didn’t do anything.”
“You stay with me. That’s enough.”
Keith’s throat is dry as he murmurs, “before going back, there’s a place I need to go. Can you come with me?”
“Sure,” Shiro answers, with a curious look.
They reach the city: the apartment Keith has rent is on the Fifth, in the quietest area of the city. It’s an apartment at the last floor of a ten-store palace, with two rooms, a terrace and a big dining room, nice enough for spending a couple of days.
Shiro hasn’t ask anything, just following Keith around quietly, but once they reached the door of the apartment, he smirks.
“You organized me a surprise party, don’t you?” He winks, as Keith turns his eyes away. “Don’t worry, I’ll try to be surprised.” And he rings at the door.
The Japanese woman that opens the door is short and thin, with a long pink dress and a white apron that grip his thin waist even more. His face lights up as she sees Shiro, and the wrinkles around her eyes almost disappear.
“Takashi,” she says, and even her voice is thin. She adds something in Japanese Keith doesn’t understand.
Shiro’s mouth has fell opened. She ignores it and reserves him a brief, light hug before turning his head inside and speaks again in Japanese. Keith pushes Shiro inside and closes the door behind him.
The room is filled with a strong smell and something is boiled on the stove.
A Japanese man stands up from the couch. Keith saw in the past a photo of him, but Shiro’s grandfather’s presence is overwhelming. He’s taller and broader than Shiro, something Keith considers impossible, but with his same squared jaws and the same sweet grey eyes. He’s obvious older, and the maturity and the experience makes him impotent.
“Jiji…” Shiro manages to whisper before his grandfather grabs him into a tight hug, one that makes Keith wonders if he’s going to break some of Shiro’s bones.
Then his attention moves to Keith. “Nice to meet you, Kiito-kun,” he says, voice deep, in a not steady English. But he shakes Keith’s hand with force, and Keith bows his head and tries to remember the few Japanese Shiro taught him.
“Hajimemashte, Shirogane-san.”
He murmurs something, the frowns and turns to Shiro with a severe look.
Shiro blinks a little. “He said you can call them Hitoshi-san and Sumire-san,” he says to Keith, and then adds something in Japanese with an annoyance that Keith sees very rarely in it. But to his questions it’s his grandmother to answer, despite being focused on her stove. Keith doesn’t understand a word, expect his name.
So they’re talking about it.
“You did this?” Shiro’s eyes are back on Keith, and he shrugs.
For a second, he fears he made a mistake. But he remembers the way Shiro talked about his grandparents, about the fact that they were the ones to encourage him to pursue his dream of becoming a pilot, and how he missed them but since they’re old he doesn’t dare to ask them to fly all way to America…
“How?” Shiro demands. “They don’t even speak English!”
Keith shrugs again. “I paid a translator to send them a letter, and two plane tickets. They accepted, so I paid for the apartment and for another translator to stay with them until you arrive…”
“You did this…” Shiro murmurs, with a soft voice. And then pouts. “I can’t believe it! They’ve always say they’re scared to fly!” And he repeated it to Hitoshi, who just laughs.
Sumire gives Shiro a funny look, and says something that makes Shiro pouts more and crosses his arm. Hitoshi pats him in the back before sitting down at the already set table.
“They’re assholes,” Shiro comments, but he’s smiling. “Come on, my grandma’s ramen is the best thing around.”
“Should I trust you?” Keith grins. “You consider the best thing around the mac and cheese at the Garrison’s canteen, and the hamburger at Mc’s.”
“Fair,” Shiro admits. “But I won’t lie on my grandma’s ramen.”
And it’s definitely one of the best thing Keith has ever had in his life, with a strong flavored miso soup and the soft meat. Shiro had already showed him how to use sticks, so keith can focus less on the dinner and more on the way Shiro behaves around his grandparents, even if they’re talking in a language he doesn’t understand.
Shiro’s expression and way of talking are different from the Garrison Lietenaunt Keith knows, and even from the smart bad boy biker that races in the desert. He’s at ease, with his defense low, and his almost childish in the way he pouts and waves his arms around. Hitoshi laughs a lot and pats Shiro’s back a lot, choking him in the soup most of the time. Sumire scolds them and smiles at the same time.
Once he finishes the ramen, Keith excuses himself and let the three of them alone in the dining room. He sits down in the terrace outside, with his backpack at his next. From the city, even if the sky is clear, seeing the star is impossible. He closes his eyes, letting himself culled by the Japanese words that come from the inside.
He opens them again when he heard a rumor next to him: Shiro moves another chair and sits down next to him.
“Do you need help with the dishes?” Keith asks.
“Nah.” Shiro shakes his head. “My granma cares about roles, she would be offended if we help her.”
His face his relaxed, he looks younger than usual. Keith haven’t see him so much happy since he was chosen for Kerberos: even if it’s his dream, a lot of stress came with it.
“I haven’t realized how much I missed them,” Shiro comments, the smile still in his face, as he looks at the sky. “How do you get this idea.”
Keith shrugs. “You talked a lot about them. I’ve started to know you well enough to understand that you wouldn’t have selfish enough to ask them to take the plane and come here, so I did it for you.”
Shiro tilts his head to him, and scanned Keith: he has the new shoes, but he’s still dressed with the old red jacket and the jeans with the holes below the knees.
“Have you bought some clothes for you?”
“It remains something, I think I’ll manage to get a couple of new shirt.” Keith lifts his hand to stop Shiro. “I know what you want to say. That I shouldn’t have do it, that I almost failed the exams because of it, that you’re not worthy it.”
“Well,” Shiro starts, “it is true. Don’t let me wrong, I appreciated it, but-”
“No, Shiro. You deserve it. You deserve everything. I wasn’t anyone before you, and I just want to give you something special. I want to see you happy for yourself for once. Let me take care of you this time. Rest.”
The hug happens so suddenly that Keith takes few seconds to realizes that Shiro’s strong arms are pressing on his back and his face is squeeze on Shiro’s broad chest. Keith snuggles in the embracing and slowly moves his arm around Shiro’s torso.
“Thank you, Keith,” Shiro says, and his voce breaks a little. “Nobody else ever done something like this for me.”
Keith swallows. “I’m pretty sure it’s not true.”
“It is. Everyone else… is just there for what they think I am. You don’t. That’s important for me. I’m so happy to be your best friend.”
Best friend. Right.
“I’ll always be there for you, Shiro.”
When Shiro, with an embarrassed smile, Keith knows everything was worthy.
Shiro sighs. “Now I really need to find a way to surpass this for your birthday.”
Keith rolls his eyes. “You’ll be on Kerberos for my birthday.”
“Damn,” Shiro complains. “You don’t like easy things, don’t you?”
“Nope,” Keith replies. “And by the way, I have another thing for you.”
“Another?” Shiro’s tone is a mixture of annoyance and surprise.
“Happy birthday, old timer,” Keith comments while he passes him a wrapped up in red present.
Shiro smirks and unwraps the present: it’s the special illustrated edition of the Simmariol. Shiro already had The Lord of the Rings of the same collection, and expressed the desire of having all Tolkiens’ books.
“Damn,” Shiro swears again, as he passes his hand through the pages, with a big smile on his face and bright eyes.
And looking at him like that, Keith thinks back at Iverson’s suggestion about what his objective should be. But Keith already knows it.
He wants to reach the stars, of course. That was a dream of him. But his first mission is and will always be making Shiro happy.
As long as his reward is Shiro’s smile, Keith can be happy.
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