so I was talking with @gitwrecked about the Space Dad mentality and how rare it is that Shiro gets to have fun like the other Paladins do. A lot of fic and art either assume Shiro’s the responsible character, or leave him out completely while all the Paladins are having fun - and that’s always bugged me, a bit. Shiro so rarely gets a chance to play those games, or make mistakes, or be smol, or be taken care of in any way. In fandom, Shiro’s almost always the Responsible One, whether that’s in charge of the team, assisting with the team’s personal affairs/relationship woes Via the giving of Dad Advice, etc. etc. Even the mentality that back at the Garrison Shiro must’ve been tight-laced, Perfect, and Always Responsible is just…it doesn’t make sense, to me. Considering everything he’s been through, can’t our Shiro be allowed some fun?
Shiro would’ve been a COMPLETE troublemaker back at the Garrison. Hardworking and dedicated, sure, but once he proved himself and climbed up the ranks, so to speak? Kid could get away with ANYTHING. Nobody can keep a straight face quite like Shiro. Nobody knows why there’s always one particular flight-bike returned with just a bit less fuel than the others, nope, no sir. No, nobody knows how the doors to the hangars were left unlocked and a trio of cows slipped in last night. Nope, definitely not. Shirogane? Nope, definitely not involved. What kind of person would think that of Innocent, Responsible Shiro?
Shiro gets away with a lot of stuff like this. Matt only eggs him on, the little troublemaker. The two of them would make SUCH a pair, wreaking havoc, always messing things up, and the worst part is Iverson can NEVER PROVE IT. If Matt has even half the hacking skills of Pidge? Nothing would be safe. The rosters? Weird how Shiro and Matt are always in the same classes. Any type of list? Funny that the mess hall’s serving chocolate cake for dinner for the fourth night in a row, how odd. The simulators?
Dear lord, the simulators.
Fake missions. Weird Easter Eggs left behind in mission logs, so the freshmen are running these simulations and that’s definitely a duck that just flew past us, sir, how is a duck faster than this ship? Weird loopholes, one set of canyons that definitely loops you back to the beginning just after you exit. Missions with heavy-loss scenarios that light up at the end with a huge message saying APRIL FOOL’S. Just messing with everyone.
[Iverson: WHO LET HOLT INTO THE SIMULATOR PROGRAMMING?
Matt, deadpan, as the newbies running the simulation have to fly through a series of caves in a mountain that looks suspiciously like a nose (only access point is through the nostril): It’s my computer programming final, sir.
Iverson, who didn’t check all the course syllabi: Shirogane, is this true?
Shiro, without batting an eye: Yes sir.]
In addition to the ability to lie their way out of every inquisition, Matt and Shiro are pretty clever at this. They don’t have to lie often because they don’t get caught. They’re extremely cautious, planning tricks weeks or months in advance, well worth taking the time to pull it off well and cover our tracks than it is to get caught and give up the whole game. (I’m not saying they were Weasleys of the Garrison, but.)
I wonder if this is also one of the reasons Lance looks up to Shiro so much. Picture one night a very young and impressionable Lance sneaking out of his dorm after hours, trying to get a level up by gaining just one extra peek at the simulators (poor bab wants so badly to be fighter class), and in so doing caught the rarest of rare events: Shiro, sneaking out of the simulator programming room.
And Lance doesn’t mean to, but he stumbles right into a trashcan and makes a huge clatter and Shiro’s head whips up and the two of them just stare at each other. Lance’s heart is going a mile a minute, he’s going to get in trouble, that’s Takashi Shirogane, the straight-A Perfect Responsible Top Of His Class Pilot -
Shiro draws breath. Lance winces, waiting for the reprimand.
“Can you keep a secret?” Shiro asks, and winks.
“Uh,” stutters Lance, floored.
And then the next day Lance is watching the simulator runs with his class, but for whatever reason the Simulator’s infected with some sort of weird bug. Anytime anyone fails at any part of the program the screen rains down confetti on them. Forgot to buckle your seatbelt? CONFETTI. Effed up that landing? CONFETTI. Turning to hurl into the main gearbox-
“Shirogane,” Iverson growls, “Did you program this run?”
“Must be a glitch, sir,” Shiro says, completely straight-faced.
And Lance is a goner.