Sorry for the late update but enjoy :)
Point out errors as you go, please!
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There was a fine line between realism and fantasy.

In his fantasy, Shiro always pictured himself as a normal boy. He would have been playing catch with his loving father in the front lawn of their home in a safe neighborhood as his sisters and mother sat inside laughing together. He wouldn't have ever gotten that scar across his face that reminded him of the pain he lived through as a child. He would go to college on a baseball scholarship with a beautiful girlfriend who loved him dearly. Maybe when he turned twenty-three he would propose to her. He would have done it in a way where he brought her out for a clichéd night where they had fancy Italian food then went out for a walk beneath the stars near a fountain and stand there for a moment. He would lean in close to kiss her before taking a knee to show her the ring he had worked so hard for.

She would have said yes and jumped into his arms in tears, they would definitely laugh about this in their older years. They'd have a child right after their honeymoon in Japan, they would name him Hiro and have a daughter soon after named Yuki. Their children would go on to be successful in life and make him and his wife proud parents. He would have died as a happy and normal person. He would have died with a smile.

Though, a fantasy will always be that won't it? It will always remain fictitious, fake, faux; a chimera. No matter how much he tried to dream or wish the fantasy to come to life, reality always won over. Instead of the picket fence and lemonade block party childhood, Shiro had wished for as a child, he had gotten the polar opposite. His home was nice and so was the neighborhood but the game of catch was never part of it. There was a game though, it wasn't something any child should have played with their father.

It was called the quiet game. He was never allowed to tell his mother or his sisters about what happened in the basement which was his father's workshop. If he did the game would have gotten harsher than it had been before. He broke that rule one time in all his life and what he got from it was the scar that covered his face.

His father had pinned him down and carved it into his face even as Shiro cried and begged for mercy, then his sister was forced to endure a punishment Shiro had been dealing with for most of his life. Their innocent childhood was stolen from them and his happiness was stripped away. Instead of nights where his parents would read bedtime stories to him; his mother would rush into his room every time he woke up screaming, writhing in the pain of his own memories and tears streaming down his face.

His mother would fall to alcoholism as a coping mechanism for the fact her husband had raped and abused her son and daughter without her ever knowing. Instead of living a normal childhood, Shiro was forced into adulthood at the age of fourteen where he managed to get into the academy on a baseball scholarship. One good thing came from all this.

He had met the girl of his dreams. She had given him a gentle smile on his first day as a freshman back when her hair had been a poofy mess. She had skin dark as chocolate and eyes as bright as the mountain flowers in Virginia. Her smile was like sunshine, it warmed the coldest parts of his heart and gave him something he had been missing for a long time; hope.

He got to hold her hand for the first time after they kissed. They fell on his bed and continued to show one another their love for each other until he cried from the memories love could never erase. All of that led to this point; the point where her innocence had been stripped away. The moment she had become deflowered.

He had rummaged around his house, tripping over a stray bottle of alcohol his mother had left out on the floor while she was off at work, just so he could find something that held value to him. When he was younger, his child therapist had given him something worth a thousand words yet she only used one.

'Kintsugi'

This object held so much value to him that doing what he was going to do with it was borderline insane in his eyes but it was for someone he cared deeply about. His child therapist would always tell him the same thing when he was feeling almost as if being a broken boy was a curse, a thing that no one would ever understand.

"Being broken gives someone the chance to help you heal and give you a new meaning to life."

He stood in the quiet little hospital room now, holding a small plastic bag with two things inside he wanted to use in order to help Allura the same way his therapist had helped him. The day was rainy like the night that she was attacked, each drop that touched the surface of the open window on the other side of that green curtain created a pattern on the green fabric that was indescribable. The sunlight outside showed nature's sorrow by shining into the room to cast a dark shadow that also showed Allura's figure quietly sitting, flipping through a book as she silently waited for the end of her grief.

Lance's face flashed into Shiro's head for a moment as he remembered how the skinny boy was trying to make Shiro feel better. The boy clearly suffered from his own issues and yet he forced himself to smile in order to make Shiro feel reassured that Allura's problem wasn't his fault in any way.

Shiro took in a deep breath as he seated himself in the tiny chair outside of Allura's border she had put up between her and the world. School had spiraled into chaos with the rumors going around. Everyone knew that both Allura and Lindon had been out of school but no one aside from Allura's family and the support group knew the real reason as to what really happened to the two of them. Many people, especially Lindon's Fanclub made of all the prissy and stuck up girls of the academy, were spreading rumors that the two of them had run away together (as if that really happened in real life) while the other rumors included multiple theories including Allura and Lindon being sick coincidentally at the same time, the two spending time together after school, or even Allura being abducted by Lindon which was probably the only theory Shiro would agree with.

To the people who asked him what had happened, Shiro simply told them that Allura would return soon enough but in realistic terms; what did soon even mean?

A day, a week, a few months, years? Would she ever finish school at the academy or would she drop out and try to work with Coran?

Anything could be a possible future for her now that her present was broken and shattered on the floor like an hourglass spilling sand through the cracks of its glass. He knew this feeling all too well, the feeling of complete helplessness as the anxiety grew more and more intense. The anxiety of how your life would play out after the moment it flashes before your eyes.

That moment was a defined time of your life, one that engraved itself into one's brain like the scratches on a wall engraved with nails. It stuck with you even years upon years later. It would never leave you with its bony fingers wrapped around your throat, squeezing it as a smile stretched across its shadowy face and its laughter echoed through the room even as you struggled to breathe. Eyes would roll to the back of your head, white spots would fill your vision, the air would be sucked right from your lungs, and you'd scratch and fight to take that fresh breath of air you were led to believe you'd never get to feel again.

This moment was and always would be fresh in Shiro's mind even now as he fiddled with the plastic bag in his hands. It was the moment his father took his future and ripped it to shreds right in front of his eyes like a terrible homework assignment.

He winced as a slight pain stabbed at his forehead. With his eyebrows furrowed together, only two things came to mind on that sunny spring afternoon where the sunlight filtered through the canopy of leaves outside. Could he ever escape this memory and how could he ever make the pain stop?

"Takashi," The man who towered behind Shiro whispered quietly as his hand slowly ran down his son's right bicep. "Something's been bothering your dad, can you help me out in my workshop?"

Takashi, a young and gullible child, didn't think twice as he looked up at his father from the desk which he sat at with a bright smile on his scarless face. "Of course, but can we play catch afterward?"

"Only if you do your job well enough."

That hand that had been stretched out to him so many years ago was full of lies and sinister intent. They never played catch after that, Shiro never even looked his father in the eyes after all of it; he was never allowed the childhood he had been promised with the first breath of air he took.

Now, his hand could change Allura's future in a positive way and he wanted to be sure that she could heal from it all. He didn't want her to be like him, someone whose life is dictated by his own past. Inside of the bag were two things, a bowl and a whiteboard with a marker that came with it. He had spent the entire day at school thinking of what to bring her but he could only ever remember the things he was given during his child therapy after his father was tried and arrested. His therapist had helped him the best she could and though she couldn't fix all of his problems, she managed to heal him physically.

"Hey Allura," Shiro took a deep breath as he began to tap his heel against the tiled floor. "It's a beautiful day outside isn't it? The sun is warm today and it tickled my arms when I walked through the parking lot to get here."

Silence.

Shiro swallowed down his nerves as he reached into the bag and pulled out the bowl his therapist had given him so many years ago. It was a tiny black bowl that had been shattered and pieced back together with gold. "I have something I want you to have. It uh," He paused as he scooted his chair up awkwardly and felt his voice shake slightly.

"It's a bowl that my therapist gave me that was once broken but was fixed with gold. It's something called 'Kintsugi' in Japan," He cleared his throat and placed the plastic bag down on the floor as he began to play with the small rice bowl in his hands. His thumb gently ran along its smooth surface as he felt how the gold that held the bowl together like glue, stuck out slightly. "The philosophy behind the technique is to recognize the history of the object and to visibly incorporate the repair into the new piece instead of disguising it," a small chuckle escaped his lips as he reached up to cover his parted lips with the back of his hand. "Look at me, I'm explaining the meaning of a stupid rice bowl to the girl I like and using big words. I'm so lame aren't I?"

Allura didn't speak but by now her silhouette had moved positions so that she was facing Shiro, her feet dangling off her bed and her hands holding on to the edge as a small and nearly unnoticeable smile painted her face for the first time in what felt like years. "Mhm." She nodded slowly and caused Shiro's heart to skip a beat in his chest.

His grey eyes widened slightly as he looked up as the shadow and felt as if his entire chest were about to burst. He had managed to get a response from her even if it were just a little noise of amusement. Anything was better than nothing.

Shiro laughed a little louder this time as he tried to hold back tears of joy. "I'm giving this to you because there's no point in trying to act like everything will be perfectly fine in a few days from now, there's no way you'll ever be completely okay but you can heal from this with the help of others."

He slowly moved the bowl through the small opening in the curtain and held it out to his girlfriend with confidence. "Please, take this. My therapist gave it to me as a child and now I'm giving it to you to show that you're not alone and that I'll be here every step of the way with you," He blushed slightly and looked down at the floor. "We all are."

Allura slowly slid off her bed, the sound of her feet touching the floor echoed throughout the room and continued to do so as she took slow and careful steps towards Shiro. He saw her hand through the opening of the curtain, hesitantly reaching out to take the rice bowl in her fingers as they shook. He couldn't help but smile as her fingertips brushed against his, he hadn't felt her gentle touch in what felt like millions of years. She slowly took the bowl from his hand and pulled it up to her chest as she sniffled slightly.

Shiro jumped up and bent over to grab the plastic bag and whip out the whiteboard and marker he had brought over from home. He had been using this to write down his homework assignments for the last four years but before that, you could tell with a single glance that he had used it to communicate with others with how blackened and smudged the old hung was. He felt like this board was a better gift than a brand new one since it shared a history that Allura could connect to personally.

"I also brought a whiteboard for you to write on," he said quietly as he stared down at the messy looking thing, "I always used it during my therapy sessions in order to communicate with my therapist. I like to think of writing as the written equivalent of someone's voice so I'm guessing yours is absolutely beautiful..."

He slowly slid the whiteboard through the opening and pinched his lips together as his brows furrowed and his knees pressed together awkwardly. "I-I mean I know it is beautiful since I have always loved your voice," He was the king of embarrassing statements.

Allura took this board a little quicker this time and she lowered herself to the floor in order to sit down. The popping noise of the cap be separated from the marker made Shiro's awkwardness fade nearly instantly as his grey eyes studied how quickly her silhouette moved with the sound of her writing. Then she placed the board on the floor and pushed it under the curtain with a scraping noise.

'Thank you, Takashi. Please, sit down here with me so we can talk.'

Her handwriting was beautiful just like he remembered. The letters were a mixture of normal writing and cursive making each word unique in its own way. He remembered the day he had seen her writing for the first time and he still felt that same feeling he did from four years ago; love. He loved how she wrote and he probably would until the end of time because its beauty was much like her voice and he loved each and every word that left her mouth.

Shiro couldn't help but feel himself grin ear to ear as he slowly slid down his chair and onto the floor in order to cross his legs and push the board back to his soulmate on the other side. "Of course I'll sit down here with you, what kind of boyfriend am I if I don't?"

She erased the board with a tissue from her bedside table she had to grab before sitting back down in order to write more on the board. It was a moment before he received her next message.

'You still want to be with me even if I've been taken by another man? Why? I'm no good to you anymore, Takashi...'

His heart was nearly shattered into pieces reading her words. He knew this feeling, the feeling of absolute disgust and hatred for oneself. He had spent years believing he could never be enough for one person, that he could never give anyone the love they deserved. He didn't want Allura to feel this way, ever.

"I don't think I could ever hate you for the animalistic choices someone made," he started, "you never chose to be his victim Allura, I understand what you're going through so for me to resent you for something beyond your control would be like you hating me for what I've been through and I know neither of us could ever feel that way towards the other. In fact, I don't think I could ever hate you because I..." His voice faltered and cracked slightly as he felt his heart throb inside of his chest. "I think I love you."

"I mean I spent all my high school career admiring you and trying to talk to every possible chance I got, hell, I felt like my entire heart exploded when I saw you at our first meeting because I knew we would become great friends. You gave me hope in the world when my father had ripped it right out of my chest, you made me realize that love wasn't just a word adults said to each other but rather this feeling that could make you feel so elated at the glimpse of the person who made you feel it. I would never ever hate you for what that asshole did to you because to me you're still my Allura."

It was hard for him to say that out loud, to open himself up again to the world and leave his back vulnerable enough for people who he trusted to pierce a dagger straight through his skin. Allura slowly took the board back and began to sniffle a little more and whimper on the other side of the curtain causing Shiro to feel the need to hug her even though he knew it wasn't an option.

"I'm sorry if that was too much to handle," He whispered regretfully and pinched his thumb between his index and middle finger as he tried to hold back everything he wanted to say to her.

Then, just like a miracle, Allura slid the board over and gave him a message he had never known he needed to see before.

'Takashi, please, hold me. I miss you.'

Shiro cautiously stood up and walked over to the opening of the curtain in order to take it in his fingers, "I'm coming in, don't be scared Allura." He said slowly before he stepped inside.

It was brighter on the other side with the sunlight filtering through the windows where the old maple trees danced with the wind. Allura's bedsheets were bunched together in a corner furthest away from the bed showing that she must spend her nights on the cold floor because of the nightmares that plagued her every resting moment. She was sitting on the floor wiping at her face with the tissues she had grabbed as she quietly cried without mumbling a single word.

She looked so fragile, so scared, and so vulnerable like the child he was all those years ago. He didn't say a word even as his chest tightened at the sight of his girlfriend so torn up and broken, instead, he slowly knelt beside her and pushed a piece of her hair away from her face and smiled at her gently.

"Come on, let's go sit where its warm," he gently grabbed her hand and helped her stand up. He noticed the rice bowl sitting on the floor next to the black marker.

She stood up and sniffled as she looked up at him with bloodshot eyes. Her eyes reminded him of marbles, they were glassy sort of and the blue was much duller than before. Her skin was wet with tears she had been shedding and she looked skinnier than before. She shook as she stood there, her body wanting to pull away from Shiro and her mind wanting nothing more than to embrace him if it didn't hurt her in the process.

They didn't say a word as they went to the corner where her blankets were and settled down with Shiro's back pressed against the wall and Allura in his lap as she pressed against his chest and shivered. He pulled the blankets around them and began to quietly hum a song in order to help her calm down.

They remained like this for hours never speaking a word to one another but the gentle humming from Shiro was enough to lull Allura into a restful slumber.

"I love you," he whispered quietly and pressed his lips to her forehead. Nothing could change that.

Sorry again for the really late update y'all. I've been extremely busy with school and my personal life is a living hell right now so I've just been playing video games with my two best friends every day after school because they're really the only two people who have been helping me feel better.

So is the chapter good? Should I change anything?

This week's featured reader is razzle-dazzlemcclain so feel free to say hi to them because they're literally the sweetest human being I have met on this app and I love them. They don't have any works to read yet sadly but hopefully there will be some in the future. They're such a sweetheart who makes my day whenever I get to talk to them in DMS and their comments absolutely make my day because they're just so adorable?

If y'all are looking for a new friend on here go talk to them because I'm pretty sure they'd be absolutely overjoyed to have someone reach out to them lol.

Thank you for reading this chapter again.

❤Anri

ALSO if you're talking to someone of anime amino named hqheaven it isn't Hatari but someone impersonating her so don't talk to them y'all.