Chapter Text
Carefully, Koito folds up the letter and places it on the waiting hands of a servant. Then, he holds a hand to his forehead. "Fetch my tizzy couch," he commands, and proceeds to swoon.
-
Lady Koito wipes a tear from the corners of her eyes. "My son has grown up so much," she weeps, "and now he's, he's -"
Koito Heiji puts a hand on Koito's shoulder. "You have grown up fine, my son."
Koito beams, bravely holding back the tears welling in his eyes.
In the background, almost out of sight, Tsukishima closes his eyes and visibly dissociates.
"Serve Lord Tsurumi well," Koito Heiji continues, "and learn from his wisdom. Together, we will keep these lands safe and prosperous."
And those are the words that accompany Koito as he sets off to Lord Tsurumi's palace. Tsurumi has sent the most trusted aide Tsukishima to escort him, since I have to ensure the loveliest journey for the kin of my dearest ally, whom I know would be the most brilliant protégé, the letter has said, and Koito almost ascended from sheer ecstasy.
"Which one should I wear when I meet him?" Koito asks, brandishing both sets of robes when they stop for the night at an allied lord's manor, because this is the one time tradition trumps the latest fashion. "I think the black chrysanthemum adds a sense of mystique, but the crane motif for the red one really brings out the sense of awe that I feel everytime I gaze upon Lord Tsurumi's beautiful face. But will it seem like I am trying too hard -"
Tsukishima looks him in the eye. "I think the off-white one from earlier suits better," he answers. "Before the Young Master asks, use the blue sheath for the sword, not the yellow or purple one. Please do not let Lord Tsurumi know that the Young Master has three sheaths for one sword."
"Tsukishima, you are a lifesaver." Koito tosses the robes to a servant at the side and swoops forward to hound Tsukishima further. "Give me more tips: what should I expect? Tell me more about Lord Tsurumi's likes and dislikes. And, and what about the secret history of the manor? Or any faux pas?"
"Well," Tsukishima replies dryly, "Lord Tsurumi's palace is also located by the coast."
The sun is setting by the time they have reached, and Lord Tsurumi cuts a handsome figure at the foot of the hill, the orange rays painting his skin golden and elongating the shadows of his edges.
"Young Master Koito," Lord Tsurumi greets. "It is my pleasure to welcome you. How was the journey?"
Koito reminds himself to breathe. Simply divine, he means to say, but what comes out sounds more like an overly-excitable screech.
"Ah, we'll have to work on that." Lord Tsurumi smiles benevolently. "But from your expression, I assume everything is to your pleasure."
"My Lord," Tsukishima speaks after a pause. "The journey has been long, and the Young Master Koito must be tired."
"Ah, yes. Silly me, delaying you from your much needed rest."
Not at all, Koito wants to reply, but he ends up shaking his head vigorously. Lord Tsurumi bows his farewell anyway. "Retire early and rest well, and we shall have tea by the cherry blossoms tomorrow."
And Koito can die right there and then.
-
When he is not training or studying or gazing upon Lord Tsurumi's flawless visage - which, are so many things and take up so much time that, frankly, he doesn't have much time left on his own - he is pestering Tsukishima to accompany him around the neighbouring areas.
"Tsukishima! Tsukishima," he presses, "show me around. Like, I was at town the other day and -"
"The Young Master does not need a chaperone," Tsukishima declines respectfully.
"Well yeah," says Koito, "but going around alone is soooo boring."
So this is how Tsukishima is right beside him when Koito falls off the pier.
It is a combination of coincidences: the play of the light blinds him for just that second, Tsukishima's back is turned for that one moment because a seagull is flying off with Koito's snack, and something huge and quick leaps out of the water right then and topples Koito straight into the ocean.
Air rushes out of his lungs in a flurry, his heart beating loud and painful in his ears. And the water swarms up his nose because he has been so surprised that he doesn't have the mind to hold his breath.
His last thought is, ah, like my brother, before the arms around his neck loosens, and Tsukishima grabs his hand.
-
Tsukishima insists that he will personally chaperone Koito after that.
-
"My brother died when he went down with a sinking ship," Koito says, out of the blue, one day while they are in town shopping aimlessly for whatever catches his eye. "Did you know that?"
Tsukishima remains stoically silent. Usually, that means yes, and he is too polite to answer.
"A battle with pirates," Koito continues, "because the coasts are never safe, even in peacetime, and that's why my father and Lord Tsurumi are such tight allies. You would think that after that, I would either become obsessed with becoming an extremely strong swimmer, or fear the ship and ocean so badly that I would avoid them at all costs, but no. I fixate on my father's attention instead."
Tsukishima can't help himself. "Why is the Young Master telling me this?"
"I don't know." Koito shrugs. "Maybe I want to learn how to swim better."
"No."
"Why not?" Koito asks. "I can learn at a waterfall nearby, or any rivers or ponds. I remember passing by a brook shortly before reaching Lord Tsurumi's territory."
"The water bodies are not suitable for swimming," Tsukishima explains, "they are either shallow, or treacherous."
"Well ok," Koito counters, "then how did you learn to swim?"
Tsukishima is speechless. Koito wins this once.
-
What he does not tell Tsukishima is this: when the moon hangs high and bright in the sky, Koito pulls on his coat, and slips off to the ocean.
The sand is damp and grey, but it still collects annoyingly under his toenails. Koito shivers; he's not used to climates that plunge so quickly with nightfall, or a sun that shines cold instead of the blazing ball of scorching heat that it should be. He holds his elbows, toeing the edges where the waves dissolve into foam as they fade on the shore, and shouts, "Are you there?" And then: "Come out! I saw you, back then! I know something tried to drown me, no matter what Tsukishima said."
The sea remains dark and lonesome. Nothing answers him; Koito tries again. "Are you a water spirit?" he demands. "Did you drown too? Is that - is that why you tried to drown me? You need someone else to take your place so you can leave."
Still nothing. Koito does not give up. "Big brother?" he says, a little desperately.
The only thing that answers him is the crash of the waves. Underneath the moonlight, the dark sea cracks into pieces of diamonds, black jewels stirred by the gods when they first created the world. His brother is dead, and lost, his bones buried deep in the depths and his tomb a single stone that Koito has placed on the cliff back home facing out to where his ship was, when it sank barely two nautical miles from shore, and Koito should leave but he -
The water bubbles. Koito holds his breath.
Dark hair that looks oily as it peeks out from these dark waters, and two eyes, glistening, that Koito does not recognise.
Koito swallows. "Who are you?"
Those eyes disappear into the waters again, and it has only been barely a minute, but Koito swears it's filled with mocking amusement.
-
"I learnt it from an old sailor when I was eight," Tsukishima tells him, one day. "A fisherman who lived on the outskirts."
"Ok," says Koito.
"He doesn't look a day over twenty-five," Tsukishima continues.
"Huh."
"My… childhood friend's grandmother, she told me that he has looked the same since she was a little girl too."
Koito blinks. He does not understand. He can feel Tsukishima watching his face, gauging for a reaction. But then Koito remembers that night with those eyes in the dark, and suspends his disbelief.
Tsukishima leaves the car and, after confirming that Koito can ride, requests for two horses that they set to a steady trot until they spot the huge lighthouse in the distance. A fishing village, even though the seas are so deadly. "Further," Tsukishima tells him, urging his steed into a gallop, and they leave even that behind until they reach the last of the beach, before the cliffs swallow the rest of the land and rocky outcrops threaten to rip lost ships apart.
There is a cabin right by the walls. A young man who looks barely older than Koito sits there, mending a fishing net, and as they draw close, even the scars on his face and down his body cannot distract from the intensity of his stare.
"Mister Sugimoto," Tsukishima begins, only to be cut off when the man grins.
"Hajime, is that you? You've grown up!" He seems to catch himself as he stands. "Sorry, you're not a kid anymore. What is your family name again? Tsuji - Suzuki -"
"It's Tsukishima."
"Ah, I remember now. Tsukishima Hajime, that angry little boy who broke the front teeth of that local bully." Sugimoto turns to Koito. "He was seven years old, but he jumped a gangster. Crazy kid."
Koito could not imagine this man with the patience of a saint ever being this impulsive, to say the least of it.
"I broke his teeth and ended up getting my arm broken," Tsukishima amends, "and would have broken more bones had Mister Sugimoto not intervene."
"It is only right," Koito says, "to lend a helping hand to the ones in need, and stop those that are disrupting the peace of others, even if they are strangers."
"We are not strangers," Sugimoto says, "not really. That man once tried to steal my boat. It so happened that that's when I finally found him."
"Well, then he deserves it for being a thief."
"You think? I made his mother cry at the sight of him when she came to pick him up."
"Mister Sugimoto," Tsukishima cuts in before the conversation can spin wildly out into another digression. "This is Lord Koito's son. He is currently under the tutelage of Lord Tsurumi, and will be staying over for awhile."
"I can tell," Sugimoto replies, "that coat costs more than the concept of expensive."
"He wants to learn how to swim," Tsukishima finishes, "better."
There is a long, deep silence, and it is only then that Koito realises there are no gulls. Sugimoto adjusts his cap and stares out at the sea.
"Well," he announces, "now is a good time. The sea is clear and calm."
"Yes," Tsukishima agrees.
No one moves.
"Honestly," Sugimoto says, "I didn't teach you how to swim. You watched me swim and one day when I assure you that the sea is clear, you jumped in and started mimicking my movements."
Another beat. One of their horses huffs and kicks the sand. Uncomfortably, Sugimoto sits down again, pulling up the net to sprawl atop his thighs.
For some strange reason, the roar of the ocean is especially loud here. Perhaps the walls echo the sound of the waves? Or perhaps -
"I think something tried to drown me," Koito blurts, and Tsukishima eyes him expressionlessly.
Sugimoto does not look up from his net. "There are many things in the sea that will try to drown you," he says, "the sea itself tries."
"I saw his eyes, staring back at me. I think he was laughing."
"All of them laugh, but I'll ask around to see which of them tried to drown you." Sugimoto pauses, eyes flicking up. "That is what you want, right? To know who drowned you?"
"Ye-"
"Then pay up."
"Huh?"
Tsukishima looks stunned too. "But you usually -"
"He's rich," Sugimoto reasons, "and I need money. Pay up."
"I'll pay a deposit," Koito bargains, "half price. You'll get the rest next time."
"That's fine. Pleasure doing business with you." He resumes his patching. "Oh, and here's a complimentary advice for new customers: stay as far away from the sea as possible. Things get exciting when there are more than one of them trying to eat you."
-
Lord Tsurumi says, "Get ready," and he says, "This must be the first battle where you take charge. Are you excited?"
Koito is about to vibrate off the ground, but Lord Tsurumi does not need to know that. He'll think Koito weird, and Koito may be smitten and he may be obsessed but he is not Usami.
"My Lord," Tsukishima calls, coming up from behind them. "The scouts are flanking them, and the second squadron is in position. Should I order them to fire?"
"I would rather not destroy his ships," Lord Tsurumi says, "any understanding of their technology is a massive step forward to shoring up our defences against future raids. We shall attempt a blockade instead."
"Understood." As Tsukishima steps away, Koito starts gesticulating so fervently that he hesitates. "Young Master Koito seems to have a suggestion, My Lord."
"Then let's hear it."
Eagerly, Koito whispers into Tsukishima's ears.
"He would like to squeeze that battleship at the left wing," Tsukishima conveys, "and force it to beach. The movement of the ship makes him suspicious."
"Well, then do it. What are you waiting for?"
"Yes, My Lord."
Tsukishima excuses himself. Facing Koito properly, Lord Tsurumi nods approvingly. "I had high hopes that you would be a great naval admiral, and I am glad to see I will not be disappointed. Now go, follow Tsukishima, and observe how battles work in the thick of the action."
Koito beams and after a bow, races after Tsukishima. "Lord Tsurumi praised me!" he yells the moment he catches up, which takes surprisingly long, because for someone so short Tsukishima scurries so fast. "He wasn't just being nice, right? My idea is good, right?!"
"I won't know," Tsukishima temporises, "but it sounds logical."
Koito fist-pumps the air.
They cross the gangplank from their carrier onto the ship moored right beside. It's too small for aircrafts, although Koito supposes that goods and people can always be lifted.
Tsukishima barks some orders to a petty officer and instructs Koito to follow. "He will bring you to the control room," he elaborates. "Try not to touch anything."
"Hey, that's mean. Do you think I will touch any shiny buttons and push delicate switches like a dumb kid?" Koito is graced with a hollow stare. "Wait what does that look mean?" Tsukishima turns and walk away. "Wait, Tsukishima? Tsukishima!"
The control room is a flurry of activities; Koito can feel his heart beat faster simply from the tension in the atmosphere. Everything is bronze and brass and cushioned with leather in the shades of more brown. Koito stands a respectful distance to the side, staying out of everyone's way and handling paperwork left and right based on social cues, and Koito hears a quiet, this rich brat has his head screwed on right at least, from the petty officer when Tsukishima enters the room.
"We're setting off," Tsukishima informs, urging him over to join him at the navigation panel. "We use the same codes as the national standard, for obvious reasons."
The horn blasts, and the ship begins to move.
"We are drawing close to the main fleet," Tsukishima murmurs, gesturing. In the background, Koito can hear someone commands fire, and the thunder that follows. "Are you alright?"
"Why won't I be?"
Tsukishima turns and looks at him pointedly, and it is only then that Koito realises his hands are shaking.
"I have not eaten since last night," Tsukishima tells him, louder this time, "and Wada's stomach there is growling so often that I wonder if his beer belly isn't secretly hiding a tiger, so help us grab something from the canteen, won't you?"
Koito recognises the kindness for what it is. Begrudgingly, he bows his leave and hurries out of the room, narrowly avoiding bumping into a sailor but receiving a shower of nervous swears all the same.
"Wait!" Koito shouts before the sailor can rush away. "Where's the canteen?"
"You still have the appetite to eat now?" The sailor launches into a series of complaints about his officers. "Anyway, you walk straight, turn right and enter the second door from the left. Don't get the chicken, it'll give you the runs."
It feels strange to go against the flow of the crowd, like a fish swimming against the current. Yet there is still a smattering of crew in the canteen, and Koito wonders why they are idling here when he realises that that's because they are staff, not soldiers.
"Snacks for the control room?" Koito tells the cook, and earns himself a snort and a duffel bag that reveals, when unzipped, tons of sweets, buns, and crackers.
He lugs the bag under an arm for more comfort before heading back out. Which way did I come from again? Reorients himself, making his way down the corridor when it finally dawns on him how empty the place is.
(And quiet. It's always the quiet. He should really learn to pay better attention to the sounds.)
What happened, Koito thinks, staring out of the window. This side of the ocean faces away from the battleground, revealing only the seas and the bright, pale sky so unlike the glare of that brilliant blue from back home. When he flattens his palm on the glass, it is cool against his skin, and Koito keeps expecting to feel condensation on his palms even though the air within the ship is as chilly too.
Then he catches sight of the reflection of a pair of eyes, dark and oily as the dark sea under a full moon.
Koito ducks just as the sword swings above his head. The whip of hair so long that he thinks of the little heiresses that he has seen peeking from behind the shoji, and Koito drops the bag in favour of drawing his sword.
He's tall. His assailant swings down, ruthless and quick and so unlike everything he is ever familiar with, uglier than the most competitive of matches with the most fragile of egos. Koito parries it and breaks through his defence with a sharp jab, going straight for a cut when his assailant whips out a revolver.
"Sorry, my little Prince Charming," his assailant taunts, his voice so smooth that it makes Koito's skin crawl, "but I would have to ask you to drop your weapon." He pauses. "Good form, though."
Koito lowers his sword, the tip grazing the ground.
"Nuh-uh, drop it."
Gritting his teeth, Koito complies.
"See? That isn't so hard." His assailant takes a step closer. "You aren't from around here. From the south?" He doesn't wait for a reply. "The seas are much much quieter here, don't you think? Much more stringent about having the proper licences or the correct connections, too. So much paperwork."
"What do you want?"
"Cutting straight to the chase, how blunt. I like that." His assailant smiles, bright and cheerful as though he isn't resting his finger on the trigger. "Well, I thought about stealing the ship, and then I thought about stealing you, but that will be cutting the fun short, won't I? I won't want you to hate me." His eyes light up. "Should I let you have my ship? You seemed to like her, considering how aggressively you are chasing my crew. She is a very good ship, you know? One of my favourites, and beautiful, to boot."
"What?" Koito is so confused. "You can't just give me -"
"Of course I can!" His assailant exclaims. "It's my ship. Take it as a tribute, dearie. I think beautiful people deserve beautiful things. Don't you agree?"
He has to be planning something. Maybe the ship is booby-trapped, or maybe Koito has gotten it wrong and they shouldn't have pressed it at all, they are letting the big fish slip away. But before Koito could figure it out, his assailant kicked the duffel bag up into the air and straight towards Koito's face.
By the time he ducks away and rolls to his feet, the assailant is gone.
-
"We cannot find any man matching your description," Tsukishima tells him, after. "Nor are there any stowaways on board." After all, no one is foolish enough to try to sneak onto a military vessel. "There are a few bodies unaccounted for, but they could have fallen aboard during the frenzy of the battle."
"But I did see him! I fought him."
Yet the fact remains that there has been neither sabotage nor theft: his assailant has vanished with nary a trace or a motive to determine.
"You're tired," Tsukishima reminds, "and this is your first battle. You should take a rest, Young Master Koito. I'll report to Lord Tsurumi and seek his advice."
"No." If it is only his past trauma acting up, then Koito doesn't want to bother Lord Tsurumi with such dramatics. "Since we are not sure if anything has happened, and there are no signs of a breach, we might as well leave out this detail. I would rather Lord Tsurumi not think of me as hysterical or unstable."
"Understood," Tsukishima replies, but Koito hears, understandable, and the sudden rush of feeling grates him. Koito doesn't want pity - he has enough of it from all the servants and the neighbouring lords and ladies, who call him spoiled in the very same breath as darling and brilliant.
(Bootlickers, the lot of them.)
In the end, his pacing leads him to the old lighthouse at the outskirts. To Tsukishima, Koito has left him a letter, two parts irritation and one part understanding that the man is busy. There is an old couple that maintains the place, and they tell him about crossing lands and oceans and the daughter that left them.
("The light will guide her home, someday," they say. "The light guides all who are lost, even the dead and the uncanny. Do you know, my lord, of that old legend about lighthouses, and how it calls home the souls of those that are lost at sea?")
He is sitting on a bench by the pier, watching the lighthouse lamp as the final dregs of the sunlight are poured out of the sky, when Sugimoto arrives to sit beside him.
"I told you to stay away from the sea, didn't I?" he voices flippantly.
"You did," Koito answers, "and I have opted to ignore it."
It's stupid anyway. This is a coastal town and Koito is the son of a navy general; Koito cannot stay away from the ocean even if he wants to.
"Well," Sugimoto says, "the good news is, the fact that you're still alive means it doesn't want you dead. The bad news is, your fishy stalker has a reputation."
"You know what I saw, then?!"
"I know someone who knows what you saw," Sugimoto corrects. "An old friend of mine from my days as a seaman. He likes to call himself a professional stowaway."
Ohhhh. "So he's a deadbeat criminal?"
Sugimoto crooks up the corner of his mouth. "He is a little more competent than that," he says fondly. He leans back, tilting his head up until he is baring his throat to the heavens. "Do you believe in fairytales?"
They are fairytales - didactic and fantastical that lures children away from deep dark woods and into dreamland instead. Sugimoto chuckles and shakes his head. "No sailors ever told you about the terrible monsters that stalk their ships on long voyages? Or how a case of mass hysteria goes away suddenly after someone tosses a mysterious crate overboard?"
"They are stories," Koito reasons.
"True. Stranger things have happened." He closes his eyes. "Yet here I am. Did you know? Mermaid meat is sweet."
"Like crab meat?"
Sugimoto snorts. "Actually yeah! But the meat is tougher." He straightens up, still sniggering. "Maybe next time I should catch one and steam it with a few slices of lemon and a pinch of salt."
Koito blinks. "I think it tastes better if you flambé it lightly. Maybe pair it with a bottle of wine: a classic white burgundy, or even a well-aged Chardonnay -"
"And," Sugimoto returns, "where do I get these wines in this small fishing town slash naval base?"
"You… import them?"
Sugimoto gives him a dirty look.
"I brought some with me when I arrived here," Koito confesses. "Do not rob me."
"You deserve to be robbed."
"No I don't. If robbers will just ask nicely I'll share the wine."
Sugimoto gives him another look. "You might as well invite the robbers over when we're cooking mermaid."
"We?" Koito starts. "Am I invited?"
"If we catch your stalker, and you don't mind eternal youth, then sure, you're invited."
Sugimoto sits with him until the moon has risen and Tsukishima hurries up the path, face pale and stern until he catches sight of them.
"Taking risks like this - it is as though almost drowning to death once is not enough," Sugimoto jokes, and Tsukishima's frown deepens even more. "Oh, and one last thing before you leave. I will tell you the name that humans call it, but you can never repeat it unless you want it to find you."
"Even if I whisper?" Koito questions.
"Even if you whimper," Sugimoto emphasises, "they can hear it, although whether or not that creature will come depends on its whimsy."
"Mister Sugimoto," Tsukishima warns, but Sugimoto ignores him.
The name is carried into existence by the crash of waves on the rocks, the crackle of dried leaves dragged forward by the breeze.
The sea foam bubbles into and out of existence, fading with barely a murmur, a life span so fleeting. Tsukishima grabs his arm - a transgression, this is rude he shouldn't - and drags him away so roughly that Koito stumbles.
Sugimoto watches them, his back to the moon and the moon a raindrop about to fall into the ocean. Beyond him, in those dark opaque waters, Koito wonders if he will see eyes.