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Yuuji’s never really had trouble finding the right words.
He talks a lot. He talks a fucking lot, and his words are never empty. He always knows how to reassure a friend, make a new cadet believe in themself, build a strong bond with a new crewmate. He’s always brought planetside for diplomatic missions, always takes charge when they’re transporting ambassador, because he knows exactly what to say.
Staring unblinking at sleek black marble, his gift for words has abandoned him.
“He was the best captain we could have asked for,” Tetsurou says numbly, squeezing Yuuji’s hand.
“He wouldn’t have wanted us to be sad.” Koutarou’s voice is trembling almost as much as Yuuji is. “He would have wanted us to be strong and take care of his ship and make him proud.”
Yuuji laughs darkly. “He shoulda chosen a better first officer, then.”
“Hey.” Koutarou nudges Yuuji’s shoulder with his own. “He chose you for a reason.”
“He chose me because of who my father was, don’t kid yourself,” Yuuji spits. “I’ve read his dissertation. He idolized my old man. Why else would he have plucked some hyperactive, violent hick out of Iowa and made him first officer of the Federation’s flagship?”
“He saw something in you,” Tetsurou argues firmly. “He didn’t see the drunken scrapper, he saw the eccentric genius with three damn PhDs and a fourth in the works.”
“Being smart doesn’t make me a decent captain, Tetsu-chan,” Yuuji sighs dully.
“Maybe not intelligence alone, sure,” Tetsurou shrugs, “but you’re more than smart, Yuuji.”
“You’re smart, yeah,” Koutarou adds, “but you’re also loyal to your crew above anything else. You’re compassionate. Brave to the point of being stupid and risking your life constantly. You understand all the complicated Starfleet politics, which always go right over my head. And you’re stubborn!”
Yuuji raises an eyebrow. “Stubborn? Is that a compliment or an insult, babe-chan?”
Koutarou chuckles. “Yuuji, you beat the Kobayashi Maru. Its, like, a hundred and seven percent a good thing.”
“It took me five tries,” Yuuji counters. “I don’t have five tries to take care of Dai— of Admiral Sawamura’s ship. I fuck up once, and it’s done for.”
“You’re gonna fuck up,” Tetsurou says bluntly.
“Exactly,” Yuuji agrees. “I’m not—”
“But you’re gonna fix it.” Tetsurou cuts him off. “No one’s perfect right off the bat, babe. Hell, no one’s ever perfect. The Admiral made mistakes too, but he never gave up. You’re gonna fuck up, but you’re always gonna fix it, and you won’t have to do it alone.”
“Ships can be rebuilt,” Koutarou reminds softly, taking Yuuji’s free hand, “and if I know you at all, you’ll be right there in engineering until everything’s fixed.”
“I’m not qualified to be in engineering,” Yuuji argues weakly.
Tetsurou snorts. “Sure you aren’t, Captain Terushima Yuuji-sensei. Your PhDs in Political Science, Xenolinguistics, Quantum Physics, and Quantum Engineering definitely aren’t enough for you to be qualified for engineering, let alone any damn position in Starfleet aside from Medical.”
“I started a Medical stream last time we had shore leave at the Academy, I just need clinic hours,” Yuuji mumbles.
“Exactly!” Tetsurou gestures dramatically. “Babe, look me in the eyes and tell me you’re not qualified to be captain.”
“On paper, I’m qualified,” Yuuji admits with a sigh, “but I won’t be as good as he was.”
Yuuji hesitantly drops his boyfriends’ hands, crouching down and running featherlight fingers across the gold engraving.
“No one’s expecting you to be Admiral Sawamura Daichi,” Koutarou says softly. “All anyone wants is for you to be Captain Terushima Yuuji.”
“I just want to make him proud,” Yuuji murmurs.
“Believe me,” Tetsurou tells honestly, “he already is.”