Work Text:
It’s not that he’s doing this just for himself. He might seem arrogant and self centered to others and he sometimes thinks that the sergeant only sees him as an overgrown child, who only gets close to him to be in the first lieutenant’s sphere of influence more. And maybe that applied when he first made Tsukishima’s acquaintance.
But the second lieutenant genuinely likes Tsukishima. He’s dependable, competent and calm. Qualities that he apparently lacked when he was partnered with the older sergeant upon completing his academy training. Maybe his father even had a say in the matter, probably knowing Tsukishima through first lieutenant Tsurumi.
His demeanor reminds him of Yuusaku, if he’s being honest with himself. Someone who’s trustworthy and honest, a leader. Then again Tsukishima is also more like first lieutenant Tsurumi in that regard. But of course no one could match the dazzling first lieutenant in bravery, charisma and wits, not to mention his looks. Yuusaku had the same inspiring effect on people when he thinks about it.
Sometimes Koito still remembers when he got the telegram. He was still at the officers academy then. Closely following the news from the front line, soaking up every bit of talk from the mess hall. Listening to other soldiers and higher ups talking of front line movement, trenches, casualties, losses, tactics. He thinks he was probably one of the last people to know, despite his family status and that of Yuusaku. Everything past that felt like a haze, like the period after heavy rainfall. Koito received the news, nodded and then retired to his quarters. He remembers, in parts, how he wanted to to completely wreck his desk and belongings, wishing he could sit among the carnage after. But all he did was change into his practice clothes, lock the doors of the deserted training hall and practice until his arms felt sore and his movements grew sloppy and amateurish. That fact alone should have made him cry in anguish, damn this whole war and the loss it brought and how unhinged and helpless it made him feel, but in the end he was left with an almost broken practice dummy and blisters on both hands that faded remarkably fast.
He throws himself into training the next few weeks until the funeral service, honing his body and skills to ignore the empty place in his chest and keeping the anger at bay. Watches as the rest of the 7th arrives after the signing of the treaty. When he sees the ragged foot soldiers out in town sometimes he truly starts to believe in a noble death in the service of the emperor. A lot of them looks like walking ghosts after returning from the front. But maybe those were just the men that didn’t have any home to return to. Later, in his father’s lodgings up north, is also the first time meeting first Lieutenant Tsurumi face to face for the first time. Sure, he had been aware of the man, had seen him as a visitor back at his family manor as a child and even then he was too shy to speak to the charismatic older man (his sisters teased him mercilessly about that for years). Now, he is nothing like the broken, empty soldiers he sees on the streets and in the garrison. He’s dazzling, charming and energetic - almost electrifying - and his scarred face distinguishes him more than deforming him. The wound is still fresh and bright red, and he excuses himself to his father for arriving in such haggard conditions (and he stayed humble, even after all these experiences!). He listens mostly to them talking about the last few weeks of the siege and the immediate aftermath of the treaty, about shifting borders and changing trade routes, about the changes in maritime borders. About the internal restructuring in central command. Koito tries to listen attentively, because this is what he is destined to do and will excel at, but soon the conversation shifts to the casualties and injured.
He doesn’t know how first Lieutenant Tsurumi and father managed upon the topic but one of them says ‘Lieutenant General Hanazawa’, then ‘Second Lieutenant Hanazawa’ and for some reason he suddenly feels like he got jabbed in the stomach with a wooden practice sword. The conversation doesn’t make any sense anymore, he can’t follow it and his head starts to swim. Without drawing too much attention, he excuses himself and flees into the small adjacent garden. He doesn’t know what this feeling upon hearing Yuusaku’s name means and he wants to forget it as soon as possible. Yuusaku really did die an honourable death, if he thinks about it. Holding onto the flag, probably, somehow managing to not even sully the pure colours despite the carnage. Fulfilling his sole duty as flag bearer, a beacon among the mass of bodies and corpses, and leading a glorious assault on the enemy. As honorable as his death was, first lieutenant Tsurumi was able to raise the flag at the battle of 203 Hill in the end. Securing the victory.
He startles slightly when he hears first lieutenant Tsurumi’s soft steps on the floors of the porch outside. The older man settles down beside him, laying his hand on his shoulder. He could swear the erratic beat of his heart is audible and is not just making the blood rush in his ears. It’s almost the same feeling as before. He’s frozen beside the figure of the first lieutenant. Then the older man’s hand is sliding down to grip his biceps, a path of electricity and tension along his arm, as he says “I’m sure you will be a just as good a second lieutenant as him”, and then “I will make sure that once you complete your education, one of my most trusted men will see to you and your path. I think you two will be a good match.” And with that, he tightens his grip just slightly, and then rises just as silently as he came out on the porch. There’s too many thoughts swirling in his head now to return so he sits, uncharacteristically silent, lost in his thoughts once again.
He doesn’t want to replace Yuusaku. He truly doesn’t. Even if he wanted to he couldn’t. But Tsukishima is a stable fixed point in his life at this point, just like his love and admiration for the first lieutenant. Just like his childhood friendship with Yuusaku that slowly developed into something deeper but just as sweet, if more carnal. How he told him about an older brother one night, sitting outside on the porch of his father’s estate, his face shining with excitement and wonder about what he was like. How he wanted to be friends with him, just as good as they were. He also remembers how Yuusaku, while on leave, told him animatedly about finally meeting said brother, but also lamenting the fact that he felt somewhat rejected. Koito made a point that night to make him put any kind of regrets to the back of his mind, on their first and last night together like that.
He inevitably did think of that night when he first made advances toward sergeant Tsukishima during one of their late evening talks over strategies and military history. The older man seemed to be mellow and relaxed after one his customary long baths after drills, but he wasn't as enthusiastic as he remembered Yuusaku. Afterwards, he might have felt regret for the lack of reciprocation but at that moment all that mattered was that Tsukishima was a welcome distraction from what was beginning to be a dull everyday life. He wasn't enthusiastic about his sloppy kissing and roving hands, pushing under is tunic and shirt to feel scars and toned muscle but he couldn't care less at the moment. But he still distinctly remembers the older man flinching and shivering a little at his touch, just as he did when he had casually touched him before. But he didn’t push him away or even out right punch him (which, considering the muscle the sergeant hides under the uniform, would’ve probably knocked him out) so most evenings after their talks end with them on his bed in his room that he thankfully doesn't have to share with anyone else. And Tsukishima is surprisingly compliant and quiet in bed. His usually stern features get softer and his usually stern voice becomes hoarse with pleasure, when he does get louder.
Sometimes, with enough teasing and sweet nonsense words, Tsukishima blushes from the tips of his ears down to his chest and he admittedly, sometimes, gets a little distracted. He lets his gaze wander from the slight perspiration on the older sergeants brow down to his chest. But he’s simply admiring the body beneath him. The way Tsukishima’s muscles and scars shift with the movement, the light sheen of sweat. He lets his hands wander downwards from the sergeants shoulders, over the warm flushed skin, mapping the texture of muscle and scar tissue. He really is just admiring the body of a fellow soldier and comrade of first lieutenant Tsurumi, who both saw combat up close, who walked through hell and came out alive, bearing the marks of survival and hardship, even if their deaths would have been honorable. He almost feels ridiculous for his smooth unmarked skin in comparison. The scars and remnants were like a sign of life, like Tsukishima's quickened breath and beating heart and heated skin, he can feel all of it while running his hands over the slightly flinching muscles and the scar adorning his stomach. The younger man gets lost in the sensation of running his thumb over the raised edges, the thinner skin on the inside, and follows the scars path downwards into the sergeants underwear. Tsukishima snaps him out of his reverie with an impatient sigh and a hand firmly gripped in his hair, pulling him down.
Sometimes they lay together afterwards for a while, basking in the heat another body provides, even if the sergeant seems to be a little put off or even confused by the soft touch and warmth. It does get awfully cold up north. Koito decides that he likes this softer side of the older sergeant quite a lot. It feels an awful lot like when he was with Yuusaku and mirrors the feelings of admiration and worship he has for first lieutenant Tsurumi. Maybe he should think about these feelings more deeply, but the everyday demands of his life take priority.
He justified his own actions to himself with the tension and fantasies that being near the first lieutenant plagued him ever since meeting the man. And it wasn’t as if he simply could bend first lieutenant Tsurumi over his desk and let the whole base know of his proclivities (besides, bending Tsurumi over any surface meant not seeing that handsome, scarred face in the throes of passion!). The photographs of the first lieutenant, handsome and young before the siege, provide only that much material for his late night fantasies. So it’s no wonder he turns to the next best person available, right?
Maybe he genuinely likes Tsukishima. He’s not using him as a stand in for Yuusaku or for the first lieutenant. At least that’s what he tells himself.