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It had only been five days since Tsukishima had seen the First Lieutenant, and he had only been walking for two of them. After having spent nine years at his side, though, five days felt like an eternity. He knew it was wrong of him to keep his distance in Tsurumi’s time of need, but he just was not ready to face him yet. Even after hearing Tsurumi’s explanation, the betrayal of nine years’ worth of lies still weighed heavy on his heart. Tsukishima no longer knew what was a lie and what was truth, and that doubt was shaking him to his core.
The piece of him that had come to care for his superior officer- his partner- told him that he really had been ready to give up on his life. He didn’t quite understand yet why Igogusa had to be used, but in the end, the story had been what gave him strength. It had gotten him off of death row and into a second chance at life. He tried to think of what else Tsurumi could have told him in those dark days, or what he could have told the prison, that would have had the same effect. He came up short on ideas.
But that was not the point! The point was that Tsurumi had lied to his face without remorse or hesitation for years. Now, their time in Russia seemed tainted by it all. The bond they had formed, the closeness they had shared, it was all being questioned and muddled because of Tsurumi’s betrayal. How could that ever be mended?
Did Tsukishima even want whatever they had to be mended? Did they have anything to begin with? Images of cold nights in Russia flashed across his mind. Tsurumi was all he had in those days, of course they were going to get close. It was a matter of men needing comfort in enemy territory. It meant nothing, certainly nothing to Tsurumi.
The blasted devil’s advocate in his head sang, ‘you weren’t thinking of her during those nights. Your heart belonged to him the moment you got off a train in Russia.’ It was truly a devastating fact, and it could not be denied.
Deep down, Tsukishima knew both faces were correct; In the end, Tsurumi was both a bastard and a comrade. Tsurumi had lied to him in a terrible way and felt no remorse. On the other hand, it had been a necessity to keep him going in this world. It was all too much to process right now, especially considering what happened only days ago.
As a result, Tsukishima had been locked away in his “office.” It was more of a poorly insulated tent in the middle of nowhere, but an office nonetheless. He had taken to burying himself in reports and meetings, keeping up with not only his own work but that of the First Lieutenant, which was quite a lot. Everyone wanted answers about his condition, the attack, everything. The worst was when they questioned him specifically though, asking him why he had been fighting with Tsurumi just before it happened. He always gave an excuse and brushed it aside.
“Sergeant Tsukishima, sir.” The voice outside shook him from his thoughts and he jumped to attention. He beckoned them in and relaxed his posture after seeing it was only a doctor. “I am sorry to disturb you, but you had requested an update on First Lieutenant Tsurumi should his condition change.”
When Tsukishima had woken up almost twenty four hours after the explosion, the memories came crashing down. He had looked around frantically for Tsurumi and, in a rare display of raw emotion he now blamed the trauma for, begged to see him. He had not been able to stand though, and so settled on receiving updates. By the time he was able to walk, his head had cleared enough to remember the lies, and he had never gone to see him.
“So his condition has changed?”
“Not to worry, it is for the better. We have successfully stabilized him to the point where he can remain conscious. He is still delicate though, and should remain under constant supervision for at least another week.”
As if the inner conflict in his head just mere moments ago had never happened, Tsukishima asked, “Is he allowed any visitors?” He had tried to be neutral, but the doctor smiled anyway.
“Normally no, but I am making an exception for you since he has been asking to see you ever since he woke up. He may not be himself, though. His dose of painkillers is quite high at the moment.” Neutrality be damned, Tsukishima felt ready to burst from emotion in front of this doctor. He was still angry of course, and he was sure that when this was all over he would have to make a serious decision about where to go from here, but for now he would have jumped through flaming hoops to see Tsurumi.
Today was going to be a roller coaster of conflicting emotions.
“Thank you, doctor. If you’ll excuse me-”
“There are some things you should know before you see him, if I may.” Tsukishima nodded. “While we were able to stabilize him, this is quite an extensive injury. His head wound is too deep to ever fully heal. I am afraid it will remain open for the rest of his life.”
Tsukishima’s stomach dropped. Tsurumi’s head was... open? Forever? Wouldn’t it get infected? Would he be in pain for the rest of his life? When the blast happened there was too much blood to tell how bad it was, and Tsukishima hadn’t been able to even tell if he himself was still alive. The medics had told him Tsurumi had head trauma, but every soldier experienced that one way or another. This was something else entirely.
The doctor, completely used to seeing shocked reactions, spared no details. “He lost part of his frontal lobe in the explosion. As is usual with brain damage, nothing is certain, but we expect the main side effects to be more mental than physical. He will most likely become more impulsive both in actions and expression, and will have a hard time keeping his emotions in check. Think of it as an impairment of any social barriers you would have when speaking with someone.”
In other words, First Lieutenant Tsumuri, who had always been so sly and composed, who was able to wait out all his opponents in a game of wits, who had been able to keep a lie going for a fucking decade, had permanent brain damage that would make him impulsive and loose-tongued. He would be more honest and not be able to help it. Tsukishima saw the irony of it all. It made him sick. He was angry and hurt, but this was not what he wanted.
“We are currently working out a solution to keeping the wound clean, but it will always require adequate attention. Do not worry, he will be fitted for a plate to keep it covered, and he is bandaged right now, so you will not see it.” Did Tsukishima look disgusted for the doctor to feel the need to tell him that? In reality he was more disgusted with the whole situation. He could never feel that way about Tsurumi…
“One more thing and you may see him. Because the wound is open, it has a tendency to leak cerebral fluid once in a while. This will naturally lessen with time, but for now, feel free to just use a cloth.” Oh, God. Tsukishima was unsure if his legs would move. Either by grace or some sadistic wish to torture him further, the doctor took the initiative to lead him to the infirmary tents.
The way there was like a death march. There were so many injured men from the attack that they had to expand the infirmary with tents, the feet of soldiers sticking out from the entrances. The air was filled with the sounds of moaning people, pink-stained bandages on almost every one of them. Tsukishima remained stone faced, but he could not help but wonder what exactly Tsurumi would look like when he saw him. He was not afraid of him, more like he was afraid for him. The doctor’s words had left him in shock, and he couldn’t help but wonder if Tsurumi would have suffered less if he had just died instantly.
His chest tightened at the thought of Tsurumi dead in his arms, that smile he was wearing just before the blast plastered on his face forever. When the doctor stopped at a particular tent, Tsukishima nearly ran into him.
“We’re here.” Tsukishima nodded solemnly, but did not move. The doctor lifted the tent flap and motioned for him to enter. He steeled himself once more, waved the doctor off, and stepped inside.
The inside was dark and cramped, almost like a cave. It reeked of blood and alcohol, and there were trays of medical supplied and fresh bandages around the cot. Almost against his will, his eyes were drawn to the body on said cot. While he took in the sight, he numbly moved to kneel on the uneven tent floor. There was no doubt it was him; his trademark moustache had managed to remain perfectly groomed, and his black hair protruded from the top of the wrappings. Tsukishima wished it wasn’t him, though. His eyes were exposed, closed in sleep and surrounded by angry red scarring. The bandages seemed fresh but were already stained in the center of his forehead. True to the doctor’s words, a sliver of clear, thick liquid was oozing down his nose. Tsukishima fumbled for a moment before taking the corner of the blanket and dabbing the fluid away.
The touch caused Tsurumi’s eyes to flutter open. It scared Tsukishima at first, but they seemed unfocused and glazed as they searched the room. Tsurumi was obviously careful not to turn his head when he looked to his side, his eyes meeting Tsukishima’s.
“Tsukishima..?”
“Yes, sir. It’s me. I’m sorry I woke you up.” Tsukishima didn’t know what to say. He felt very out of place, saddened to his core, and somehow guilty like this was all his fault. It was eating him away and he could barely focus.
“You came to see me… didn’t think you would want to.”
“Of course I came! I-I mean, sir, I came as soon as the doctors allowed it.”
Tsurumi looked like he was trying to respond, but his lips were cracked and all that came out were pathetic little wheezes. Tsukishima quickly looked around before noticing a pitcher of water on one of the trays and carefully lifted it to Tsurumi’s lips. He drank a while, spilling most of it, before Tsukishima pulled it away.
“’M so happy you’re here… Hajime.” Tsukishima’s heart stopped. He was about to say something, but Tsurumi managed to poke his hand out of the blankets and Tsukishima took it in both of his own hands. He gently rubbed his palms together to heat up Tsurumi’s cold fingers. “I thought you had left.”
“And go where, sir?” Tsurumi stayed silent, eyes moving to watch Tsukishima’s hands. The emotions swirling around Tsukishima’s brain were overwhelming. For Tsurumi to say such things openly, to call him by his first name, meant that he was probably still high on the painkillers. The lack of focus in his eyes attested to that theory. Still, it meant the world to Tsukishima. They had been fighting before the blast. He had punched him, hard, and Tsurumi had been explaining the past decade to him while he held him up by his coat collar. There was no way he would have noticed the attack coming; he couldn’t have even moved away if he had! It was Tsukishima that pushed him down to protect him, and instead…
Instead he had pushed him to what should’ve been his death. This was no way for such a proud, capable man to live. Tsurumi was always so composed and full of grace, and now he was missing part of his brain and babbling about missing his useless Sergeant. He could not be on opium forever. Eventually he would be living day in and day out in pain, and it would be Tsukishima’s fault. His failure as an officer had ruined Tsurumi’s life. He might as well have thrown the grenade himself.
Tsurumi pulled his hand away from Tsukishima’s and shakily raised it to the man’s face. He managed to cup his cheek and wipe something away from his eyes. “Hajime, are you crying?”
Tsukishima had not even noticed. Not wanting to be so emotional in front of Tsumuri in his state, he sniffed hard and cleared his throat, “No, sir.”
“I know it’s a lot to take in… I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault, sir.” How was any of this his fault?
“It is my fault. I lied to you for so long… I needed you to stay alive. It really was the most convenient story I could think of, and I knew it would work, but... I wanted you to know what I had done, what I would go through for-" He reached for his head with his free hand, but stopped when his fingertips grazed the bandages. "We were interrupted, this wasn't what I planned. Please, I can explain everything, just... don’t leave me. Not yet.”
Tsukishima could never have deduced this was how Tsurumi felt when he had been explaining himself in the yard. Back then, he had looked so calm and collected, like Tsukishima was a mere child who did not understand why adults said certain things. He had felt talked down to, and he had broken down because of it. Now, Tsukishima could see that it was all the opposite. Under the influence of the drugs and his injury, Tsurumi was pouring his heart out to him. He had been saying the same thing sober five days ago, but Tsukishima had been too furious to notice. He had called him a brilliant officer, someone he could trust… a dear friend… and Tsukishima had not noticed. The man’s brains had literally been blown out of his skull and the first thing he thought to do was ask if Tsukishima was alive, and in return, Tsukishima had left him alone in this freezing tent for days, possibly to die.
Tears were threatening to spill from Tsurumi’s swollen eyes, and it looked like the effort not to cry was painfully building up in his head because his teeth were locked tight despite the medication in his veins. It only made Tsukishima want to sob, but he managed to straighten out and find his voice.
“Sir, please don’t worry yourself. You already explained, and there will be plenty of time to talk more. I’m not going anywhere.”
Cerebral fluid and a few stray tears cascaded down Tsurumi’s face as he tried to even out his breathing. This time Tsukishima just used his sleeve to clean him up. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, sir. You saved my life, so I will use it to serve you until the end.” Tsukishima had never been more sure of anything else. It was the absolute truth.
Tsurumi let out a long breath and stilled on the bed, his hand dropping back down to his side. He looked dead, but at peace all the same. “Thank you, Tsukishima.”
Nothing else was said. Tsurumi slipped out of consciousness and Tsukishima stayed at his bedside until nightfall. When the nurses tried to usher him away, he refused to leave until they could supply the First Lieutenant with more blankets. It was shameful to leave a man like this in an unheated tent in winter! What Tsukishima failed to consider was the fact that everyone was short on blankets, but he managed to swipe some from the dead and his own room. Only then did he leave, but not before promising he would come back tomorrow despite the fact Tsurumi did not hear him in his drug-induced sleep.
Tsukishima barely slept, and at six in the morning sharp he was back in the makeshift infirmary to see the Lieutenant. This time there was a seating pillow waiting for him. He spent the whole day doing his paperwork criss-crossed on the floor. He watched nurses and doctors come and go, some stopping to check on Tsurumi and give him more fluids. Some asked Tsukishima if he had been awake that day. When he said no, they always waved it off, saying it was the painkillers.
Tsurumi did wake up for a moment, but it was only to look up at Tsukishima and flash him one of his trademark smiles. It was weird to see that attractive expression on his mangled face, but it made Tsukishima blush anyway.
The nurses always forced him to look away when changing his bandages. They said it was for the patient’s privacy, and it could be true considering what a private man the First Lieutenant was, but Tsukishima sometimes wondered if it was to prevent him from being scared off. As if that would happen.
This routine repeated itself for two more days, until one morning at six am sharp, Tsukishima found the tent empty. One of the nurses he recognized noticed him. “The First Lieutenant has been moved to a different area. He is doing much better! I’ll take you to him, he should be awake.”
“Thank you, miss.” Tsukishima expected ‘awake’ to mean ‘high as a kite,’ but he knew it was not true the moment he saw Tsurumi. The man was sitting up in his fresh cot, a neat bandage around his head, hair combed and eyes shining like they always had before. He even had a book in his hands, which he promptly shut and placed on the floor beside him.
“Ah, Sergeant Tsukishima. I’ve been expecting you. I take it you want to hear the full story, correct?”
“The sound of his title made him realize he hadn’t soluted properly. He quickly corrected himself and stood straight, “First Lieutenant Tsurumi. I must admit, I’m not sure what you’re referring to.”
“Why, the story of how I apparently manipulated you using Miss Igogusa! Which, I may add, is not true. I would have told you so sooner, but we were rudely interrupted by some Russians, or so I am told.”
The drugs must have been so heavy that Tsurumi had no recollection of his emotional outburst the other day. Either that, or he was back to his old perfect facade. Tsukishima didn’t think so, though. While Tsurumi did seem incredibly well, there were some differences. His voice was louder and unrestrained, and his nonchalant use of the word “manipulated” was not something he would have said once upon a time. Tsukishima thought back to what the doctor had said about the side effects of his brain damage and wondered if it would make a difference in Tsurumi’s character.
It didn’t matter either way. Tsukishima had made his decision, and it would not change. He would follow this man to the ends of the Earth if he had to and that was that.
Tsurumi tells him everything about Igogusa and more. He is informed in more detail of the plan involving Hokkaido, the Ainu, and the gold. He warns him that they will enter hell by the time they are through. When he is finished, Tsukishima answers his superior’s unasked question.
“While I wish it had been differently, you saved my life, First Lieutenant Tsurumi. So I intend to use whatever remains of it in your service .”
Tsurumi reaches for Tsukishima, who steps forward and allows his superior to pat him on the shoulder happily. “I’m so glad to hear you say that, Tsukishima.” he says with a smile, and pats his head in a familiar way reminiscent of their time in Russia. Back then, it was accompanied by a dashing smile from Tsurumi’s handsome face. Now, the smile was twisted into a sinister looking grin, but beneath it all, it was still Tsurumi. To Tsukishima, that would always be enough.