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“Hey, Saruhiko!” Fushimi turned to see Yata running towards him. “Wait for me!”
Fushimi waited, the redhead all but barreling into him. “What happened?”
“Nothing,” Yata brushed the dust off his pants. “I usually don’t see you walking to school like this.”
Fushimi turned around, starting to walk again as Yata ran to walk next to him. “Hey, hey,” Yata caught Fushimi’s attention again. “Wanna try something I saw today?”
“...sure,” Fushimi said reluctantly, knowing that most of Yata’s ideas dumb and idiotic.
“Here, stick your hand out like this,” Yata instructed, before standing next to him. “And then I do this! Ta-da!”
A pinkish hue was dusted across Fushimi’s cheeks as he realized what Yata just did. Yata squeezed their linked hands, swinging them back and forth.
“Misaki...” Fushimi sighed, turning to see Yata’s bright eyes shining at him. He decided not to say anything, letting Yata hold his hand all the way to school.
Class was boring as always, and Yata drew random doodles onto Fushimi’s paper while the teacher wasn’t looking. “Hey, what’s the answer to this problem?” Yata tapped at a spot on his paper with the eraser tip of his pencil.
“Why don’t you figure it out yourself, Misaki?”
“Hey- don’t!” Yata made his voice rise, before dropping it to a whisper. “Don’t use my first name when we’re in public...”
Fushimi turned to see Yata slightly pouting, a small blush starting to rise onto his cheeks. Fushimi grinned, calling his name again. “Misaki.”
The next day, Fushimi heard Yata’s telltale voice approaching as he ran towards the taller male. He didn’t expect Yata to literally run into him and wrap his arms around Fushimi’s waist, crying. “Misaki?” He asked cautiously. “What’s wrong?”
“I had a bad dream...” Yata sobbed as Fushimi slowly put his arms around Yata. “We were playing and suddenly your father ripped you away, and you agreed with him and you said you’d never come back... That’s a lie, right? You won’t leave me like that?”
Fushimi hugged Yata a bit closer, carding his fingers through Yata’s soft hair. “I won’t,” he whispered, resting his head on Yata’s shoulder.
Yata smiled, his eyes watery. He tugged on Fushimi’s sleeve, and he linked their hands together as they walked to school.
“Are you and Misaki-byun together?” Aya asked Fushimi asked one day, suspicion lingering in her eyes.
“No way,” Fushimi turned his head away. “I’m not.”
“You let him hold your hand when you go to school.”
“I-“ Fushimi was about to search for a response when Yata popped around the corner.
“Saruhiko!”
Fushimi turned to see his best friend’s excited face. Aya laughed next to him. “Next time, try to at least deny it better.”
“What was that about?” Yata asked Fushimi, curious.
“Nothing.”
——
“Aim at the target, Yata-chan!” Kusanagi called as Yata cocked the gun. The loud, sharp cut through the evening air as the bullet left the gun.
“Nice hit!” Totsuka called from where he was standing. “First mark.”
“Damn,” Yata flipped the gun around on his fingers.
“Practice more, it’ll help.”
“Mm, okay.”
“Lower your stance!”
Fushimi clicked his tongue as he grudgingly obeyed the commands. After he and Yata had been drafted into the military, they had been training literally nonstop since. He lifted the sword to block the incoming hit, the sound echoing into the night air. “Keep your attention on your opponent, Fushimi!” Awashima commanded, her rigid posture making Fushimi roll his eyes mentally.
As Fushimi flipped the tip of the sword to be an inch away from his opponent’s neck, Munakata clapped his hands and called the practice round to an end.
“We’ll be training hand to hand combat with the Homra squad after dinner!” Awashima informed her own squad before heading out.
Fushimi followed, grabbing his dinner before finding a secluded spot in the camp to sit down. “Oi, Saruhiko!” Yata’s voice reached Fushimi’s ears before the sound of his footsteps did.
Yata sat next to him, starting to eat his dinner. “Handling a gun is hard stuff, ya know? You have to aim and like hold it still even when it shoots and has that smoke stuff come out and you can’t see...”
Fushimi made a noncommittal noise, not looking up from his own dinner. “You should talk to your own squad mates, y’know,” Yata sighed, leaning slightly onto Fushimi’s shoulder.
“Sure. Here, take these vegetables.”
“No way! Eat them yourself, you’d collapse on the battlefield before we even get there if you eat like that.”
Fushimi made an annoyed tongue click, and Yata lifted a few pieces of lettuce and attempted to shove it down his friend’s throat. Fushimi, obviously surprised, attempted to push him away but eventually gave in. Yata grinned, laughing at him, and Fushimi allowed a small smile to appear too.
“My, my, Fushimi-kun, I didn’t know you were such good friends with Yatagarasu of the Homra squad,” Munakata sat in the tent, smiling as he faced Fushimi.
Fushimi clicked his tongue, turning away from Munakata. “That’s none of your business, captain.”
“Oh, but it is all of my business. It matters who my subordinates talk to, and who they build relationships with.”
“…sure.”
“This place is so different compared to when we were at school,” Yata whispered as the two of them sat around the fire with their squad mates.
“Mm.”
“Well, some things stay the same, and that’s good I guess,” he smiled as he tentatively linked their hands together for the first time in years.
Fushimi leaned his head onto Yata’s, relaxing a little bit against the warmth of his presence.
“Are you and Misaki-byun together?” Well, I wouldn’t mind if we were.
“…Misaki,” Fushimi whispered so quietly that if Yata was a foot away, he wouldn’t have heard.
“Hm?”
“Nothing.”