[Shivers when Shiro steps forward, the protectiveness that's keeping him safe without doubt, grateful to have him. A sense of dread churns at the pit of his stomach that he immediately feels vaguely guilty for, irrational as it may be. It's sick but presses on, because when does he not? Tries to use some calm in his voice that he doesn't feel, to speak.]
It's okay, Shiro.
[He doesn't go to step ahead or out of Shiro's protective stance but comes forward enough, somewhat side by side instead. Faces the ghost of his father head on, sounding resolute, questioning of it and vulnerable to it at once.] I'm here. It's Keith. ... Dad?
[Not really certain what kind of response he'd even get, it ends up in silence still. The look softens to something sad, though, as if the ghost would say something if he could. Keith doesn't know what to make of that except for how it twists up in his chest.]