Chapter Text
Koito is standing on the sea, the waves lapping at his feet. He feels heavy. The worst of the situation however is the smell . It’s salty, aggressively so, to the point that the young man cannot identify what it is supposed to be. It smells like the ocean and blood and terror. It is then that he starts to move.
He was looking for something, someone. He kneels and starts digging in the sea with his bare hands. They get cold, and sticky, sea water somehow clinging to him and making his movements more difficult. Koito is looking for a face, he knows it.
Somewhere down here is his brother, and he has to keep searching for it. He couldn’t be too far, could he ? Koito does not want to get too deep in the sea but he has to search for him. The water is drenching his clothes up to his elbows now.
He gets up and walks a bit, anxiously looking down, not wanting to miss any sign of a body under there. Each step is more difficult than the previous one, is the water rising or is he slowly sinking ? He does not think about it for too long as he spots something, a body, right under the surface. He runs to it, almost tripping at each step and gets to his knees, immediately reaching down. The face of his father is, as always stern and unfazed. Koito tries to catch him, barely grazing the edge of his father’s coat when something else distracts him.
A white circular object, carried by the waves, just hit his leg. Koito takes it in his hand and it feels familiar but all wrong, like he’s being tainted by the strange item, or maybe he’s the one dirtying it, he’s not exactly sure. When he moves his gaze away from it, he sees a flood of identical objects floating towards him. Pretty quickly, he’s surrounded by them and panic suddenly makes his stomach churn.
He throws away the white object and resumes his digging in the water. He needs to find his father -or was it his brother ?- he needs to bring him back, but the flood of porcelain plates keeps him from seeing anything. Anytime Koito moves some away, more take their place, sometimes rising out of the water. He gets increasingly desperate and he wants to scream but not a sound comes out. He feels smaller, his hands getting weaker and he can’t tell if his cheeks are wet with sea water or tears.
When he gives up and looks around, he is surrounded by men, significantly taller than him, standing armed in a flooded room. The place is familiar in the worst possible way. All the men have Ogata’s face, wearing a cruel smile like only he could wear. Or, well, he and another person who suddenly steps into the room.
Tsurumi is dashing in his white outfit but his eyes are darker than Koito ever remembered. The scars on his forehead are bright red, almost glowing and his smile full of teeth, more threatening than friendly, makes Koito sick. He wants to grovel on the floor and beg for forgiveness and he wants to run away and he wants to punch him and he wants to disappear. The First Lieutenant did not come alone. Alongside him is Tsukishima, in his usual military outfit, holding his rifle. Tsurumi does not need to say a word, a simple gesture of his hand and his loyal sergeant is aiming his weapon, ready to shoot.
When Koito looks into Tsukishima’s eyes, he does not see anything. Not the kindness he learned to find in them, not the annoyance that he saw so often, nor rage and not even the painful emptiness that Koito remembered with dread when he had learned the truth about his kidnapping. He barely registered that Tsukishima had pulled the trigger and when the bullet hit him, he did not feel anything but his body falling on the floor, still flooded. He watched as everyone left him alone, Tsurumi, Tsukishima and all the Ogatas, one by one. Soon everything faded but the salty smell, still making him sick.
The nauseous feeling follows him even as he wakes up. His heart is hammering in his chest and his breathing is wheezing. Koito is drenched in sweat and the memory of his nightmare does not help with how sickening it feels. He runs a hand on his face, trying to regain his senses, and he is shocked to realize how much he is shaking. He sits up, removing his shirt clinging to his skin. He knows he needs to calm down but it feels incredibly difficult at the moment.
His movements seem to have woken up the man sleeping beside him, as he hears a grumbling. Koito does not turn his head towards Tsukishima. The nightmare is fresh in his mind and he doesn’t want to risk seeing the same eyes, void of any emotion. The sergeant could have shot at a deer or even a tree that his gaze would have been the same as the one in Koito’s horrible dream. The sergeant is not like that of course, and he has proven more than once that he cared for Koito.
An arm circles his waist and Tsukishima shifts beside him, laying on his side towards him.
"…get some rest, you need it."
The soft rumble of the older man’s voice is reassuring. Koito lays down again, letting Tsukishima pull him closer. It is familiar in a way, it is not the first time that his sergeant is here to help him with a nightmare, back then he had the habit of holding him by the shoulders, the waist being too intimate at the time, and he had reminded Koito about the necessity of getting good rest while assuring him that everything was alright, punctuating his sentences with the usual "sir"s . It had been grounding back then and it still is now.
Tsukishima holds him close, chest pressed against Koito’s back. He still can’t bring himself to face him. The other man’s breath on the nape of his neck is hot, slow and steady, and he has his hand moving from his waist to his chest where he meets Koito’s hand. They lace their fingers together and the younger man hopes he stopped shaking by now. He wants to cry.
It’s unusual for him really. Koito is loud, stubborn and a show off. Despite growing so much in the span of a few months, he’s still not the kind of man to sit quietly or wait or cry. But it takes all his willpower not to break when Tsukishima tightens his hold on Koito’s hand and whispers a soft "Otonoshin…".
The younger man finally turns towards Tsukishima, his subordinate, his lover, and more importantly right now, his anchor. He meets a sleepy gaze, eyes half closed but filled with undeniable softness and concern. Koito is observant, has learned to be, especially when it comes to Tsukishima. The man is so reserved and rarely expressive that it’s in a sparkle of his eyes, a subtle movement of his mouth or a crease between his eyebrows that Koito finds how Tsukishima really feels. Especially when it’s emotions that he suppressed for so long like joy, sadness, or love.
For once, Koito does not know what to say. He feels a little guilty for waking him up, poor guy looked so tired all the time that he often wondered if it was just his normal face or if he was much older than he thought.
Tsukishima silently brings Koito’s hand to his mouth and starts kissing it, slowly. For a man used to violence and rage, he is surprisingly soft. He takes his time, kissing each knuckle one by one, then turning the younger man’s hand to kiss the palm and press it to his cheek.
"Do you want to check the food stores tomorrow ?"
Koito’s voice is all hoarse and croaky. He feels pitiful but he continues, after all his specialty is never shutting up.
"I heard there is some local delicacy we haven’t tasted yet."
Tsukishima hums, kissing another time his lover’s hand.
"Sure."
There’s a faint smile on his lips and it melts Koito’s heart. The nightmare feels like a distant memory now.
"And then we’ll take a bath. In the most expensive bathhouse I can find."
The older man sharply exhales through his nose, almost a laugh if it wasn’t for his sleepiness. The smile is much clearer now and Koito can’t resist kissing it.
Tsukishima lets out a pleased hum and moves to hold him in his arms, hand in his usually so tidy black hair.
Koito closes his eyes again and tries to focus on the grounding and reassuring sensation of his lover’s body all around him. He knows he will be haunted for a while by these types of nightmares, he has been for a while. Tsurumi’s ghost will keep torturing him, and Tsukishima too, but he has to be strong.
He has to be the leader that he promised he was going to be, he wants to be a beacon of hope that Tsukishima lacks so badly, and most of all he wants to care for the shorter man like he cared for him. Koito hopes he will be able to fill the hole in Tsukishima’s heart that Tsurumi filled before him. He wants to be better and brighter and most importantly make him feel better about himself.
Koito is young and loud and still naive but he’s confident in himself that he’s going to make it better.
For now, he will rely on Tsukishima a little more, cherishing the soft moments like these and holding onto them to remind himself that while nightmares are horrifying, they are not real, unlike the feeling of his lover's lips against his not-so-shaky-anymore hand.