Katekyou Hitman Reborn! » La Pétite Mort
Title La Pétit Mort
Chapter One
Character/Pairing Hayato Gokudera, Takeshi Yamamoto, Haru Miura, and Kyouko Sasagawa, I-Pin, Lambo Bovino
Warning Too much angst and a bit of swearing.
Wordcount 1,794
The day of the funeral rained, begging for a cliché of how even nature mourned such a loss. The tenth Vongola family head would have found such a thought both ridiculous and embarrassing. Everyone in attendance was thinking it anyway.
Hayato Gokudera, the Tenth’s right-hand man and, subsequently, his successor, delivered the eulogy. It was the last time anyone ever saw him without a lit cigarette. Still, even without one, he stayed almost unnervingly calm and steady. His voice never wavered, his eyes never watered, and he didn’t even bring along any sort of note cards. If he had been asked, he would have explained that he never bothered to prepare anything; he would have argued that trying to condense Tsunayoshi Sawada to any number of sheets of paper would have been both an impossible task and a dishonor.
After the ceremony, everyone retreated back inside the base. Excepting his sister, the girls - no, they were women, now - had worked hard to create quite a spread for the guests and friends, but it seemed to be in vain as no one had any sort of an appetite. They took seats and stances in the reception hall, silent and sad, some carrying sparse plates out of politeness. Several agonizing minutes of this passed before Gokudera stood to do the only thing that seemed proper: he thanked the visiting attendees, appointed the children at the door to take what few plates there were, and allowed them all the relief they were hoping for. He made sure, however, to stop Kusakabe as he was leaving to murmur instructions to give to the Cloud Guardian.
The room looked positively untouched once it had been cleared, and Gokudera himself was the one to begin cleaning up all of the wasted food, saying to store as much as could be stored as there was no sense in simply throwing it out.
"Don't worry about the mess, Gokudera," Kyouko said softly, reaching to take the stack of plates he'd just picked up. "We can take care of it." While he understood exactly to whom she was referring, he was reluctant to leave and much more so to release the dishes he held. He'd already sacrificed so much time he could have used for procrastinating by dismissing the guests; he didn't want to have to give this up, too. He wasn't ready.
"Ah," he said, and finally relinquished his hold on the plates, slowly so she wouldn't stumble. His eyes lingered just a little longer, though, as if hoping she would see the pleading he really didn't want to be showing in the first place. She didn't so he didn't push, and instead turned toward the door, beckoning with a flick that the men - and one young boy - follow. He heard the shuffling of feet along the carpet, the low voice of the Rain Guardian thanking and reassuring Kyouko, and then nothing but his own shoes on the smooth floor of the corridor. He would take them to what should now be his office, though he could not bring himself claim it.
He heard them trailing behind him: first one set of shoes that clopped deliberately, its steps echoing distastefully off of the walls; then another pair that softly shuffled; then, just a little behind, a third that moved evenly and whisper quiet. Gokudera waited for the trio at the door, standing beside it in the hallway while they filed in. The older two wore the same somber face he did, but Lambo simply couldn't hold onto such stoicism and looked seconds away from tears. Gokudera resisted the urge to reach out to him, completely out of the fear that the boy would cry and that he wouldn't be able to stop those tears or his own.
Lambo was immediately ushered into a seat as Gokudera entered the room, shutting the door. The Rain Guardian sat to one side of him and the Sun Guardian at the other. Gokudera still said nothing as he circled the desk, but he did not sit. Instead, he leaned forward and clicked three times on the computer's keyboard. "Kusakabe-san."
"He's here. He would prefer to stay where he is, however."
Gokudera sighed, though he hadn't been expecting any less. "Fine. But please ask him to listen."
"Right."
Gokudera looked away from the monitor, focusing on his hands pressed against the surface of the desk. His fingers dented the ink blotter in ten different places, the soft foam giving easily under his weight. "There is still a lot of work that needs to be done."
"Gokudera, is it really necessary to talk about all of this today?"
That got him to look up. It also got a bit of his old fire back in his eyes. If he could have, he would have used it to ignite the Rain Guardian where he sat. "Should we sit by and wait for the Millefiore to take this chance to attack again?"
"Well, no, but considering how much damage they already know they've done-"
"You don't think they planned for this? They wouldn't have executed the assassination without a second phase, or more."
"I still don't think it's fair to any of us to jump right back into things as if-"
"As if what? As if he would want us to?"
"Yes. That exactly. Tsuna would not force us right back into work when we are all hurting this badly. He would under-"
"I AM NOT HIM."
The sound of his bark echoed off the walls of his bedroom as Gokudera jolted awake. His sheets were twisted around his legs. His pillow was on the floor. His throat stung a little from the force of his shout, but not as much as his pride did upon the realization that he'd vocalized that outside of the dream.
Not a minute after he woke, there was a knock at his door. Gokudera resisted the urge to shout again, tell him to leave, only the hand didn't wait for a reply at all before opening the door, letting its body in.
"What do you want?"
"Your voice carries more than you think, Gokudera." The Rain Guardian casually crossed the bedroom and came to sit on the side of the bed. He noted the invisible dip, noticed it only because he'd sat on just half of it, but said nothing. "You had that dream again."
"It's the middle of the night. I'm tired."
"And I'm here."
"And I wish you weren't."
There was silence, and a few heartbeats later, Gokudera set about untangling himself. Once freed, he rolled over, away from his friend, and pretended he would be able to go back to sleep.
"Gokudera," that voice spoke, soft and sadder than he had heard it in a long time, "not even Tsuna could do this alone. We don't expect you to either." The Rain Guardian's weight shifted off the bed and Gokudera listened to his footsteps as they finally left him alone in the dark quiet of his bedroom.
Morning came too soon for Gokudera's liking, though in his wakefulness the night seemed to drag on and on. He did not rise until he heard the muffled shuffling of the others outside his door; they would wonder if he was the first one up again. After the corridor had cleared from what he could hear, he slid out of bed and dressed for breakfast. Today would be another long day.
The kitchen bustled with morning sounds: clinking plates and glasses, a steady hum of voices and the bubbling of laughter. Gokudera slid in soundlessly, though everyone registered his presence, silence consuming them at once. Kyouko offered a smile, brave but false, and immediately set about fetching him a plate. Haru refused to make eye contact; his nightmares often kept her awake as well, though she never really knew why. I-Pin's hand reached a half-second too late to catch Lambo's arm as he hurriedly gathered his food and moved away from the main table, sitting on the other side of the room. I-Pin was quick to follow. The Rain Guardian watched the children take their leave, his head slowly turning back to watch Gokudera take up a seat that was still cool. "Good morning, Gokudera," he said.
"Mm," Gokudera grunted in reply as Kyouko set his food down before him. Kyouko seemed to pause for half a moment, throwing a glance to the Rain Guardian, who simply returned it.
Haru would not look up from her food, though she didn't seem to be eating much more of it either.
The rest of breakfast was silent, save the gentle sounds of chewing and glasses being set back onto tables. No one ever had much of anything to talk about around Gokudera, and he was fairly good at pretending it didn't bother him. Then again, it didn't seem to anyone that much of anything made him happy anymore. He had always been prone to scowls, but even then, if one looked hard, a smile was the occasional reward. Lately, his scowl was as permanent as his cigarette, though he was considerate enough not to smoke at mealtimes.
Though the last to arrive, Gokudera was the first to leave, and as always he made sure to hurry away from the kitchen as quickly as he could so he wouldn't hear the stirrings of conversation building back up in his absence. Today, however, he was followed. He could hear the footsteps chasing him, not running, but moving fast enough. He didn't bother to make it a game because he had already lost.
"Gokudera-san!" He stopped and turned, surprised to hear I-Pin speaking. "Gokudera-san, I realize I am probably out of line, but I wish that you would talk to Lambo."
"About what?"
"He...he really looks up to you. Lately, though, after what happened last week, he's afraid..."
After a time, Gokudera responded briskly with, "That's probably for the best." Then he left her, the words she struggled to form falling from her mouth faster than she could collect them, and he thought that was probably for the best as well.
He retreated back to his bedroom. He could more often be found hiding there than anywhere else, due in no small part to the fact that he did not feel right smoking anywhere else. As such, the scent seemed to have managed to embed itself in even the cold steel of the walls. His laundry never smelled as fresh as the others', his whites permanently dingy. And still he went through as many packs a day as he could, lighting the new with the last few embers of the old. No one really liked it, but it was far worse when he went without them.
Continue: The Full Story | Gokudera's Side
Chapter One
Character/Pairing Hayato Gokudera, Takeshi Yamamoto, Haru Miura, and Kyouko Sasagawa, I-Pin, Lambo Bovino
Warning Too much angst and a bit of swearing.
Wordcount 1,794
The day of the funeral rained, begging for a cliché of how even nature mourned such a loss. The tenth Vongola family head would have found such a thought both ridiculous and embarrassing. Everyone in attendance was thinking it anyway.
Hayato Gokudera, the Tenth’s right-hand man and, subsequently, his successor, delivered the eulogy. It was the last time anyone ever saw him without a lit cigarette. Still, even without one, he stayed almost unnervingly calm and steady. His voice never wavered, his eyes never watered, and he didn’t even bring along any sort of note cards. If he had been asked, he would have explained that he never bothered to prepare anything; he would have argued that trying to condense Tsunayoshi Sawada to any number of sheets of paper would have been both an impossible task and a dishonor.
After the ceremony, everyone retreated back inside the base. Excepting his sister, the girls - no, they were women, now - had worked hard to create quite a spread for the guests and friends, but it seemed to be in vain as no one had any sort of an appetite. They took seats and stances in the reception hall, silent and sad, some carrying sparse plates out of politeness. Several agonizing minutes of this passed before Gokudera stood to do the only thing that seemed proper: he thanked the visiting attendees, appointed the children at the door to take what few plates there were, and allowed them all the relief they were hoping for. He made sure, however, to stop Kusakabe as he was leaving to murmur instructions to give to the Cloud Guardian.
The room looked positively untouched once it had been cleared, and Gokudera himself was the one to begin cleaning up all of the wasted food, saying to store as much as could be stored as there was no sense in simply throwing it out.
"Don't worry about the mess, Gokudera," Kyouko said softly, reaching to take the stack of plates he'd just picked up. "We can take care of it." While he understood exactly to whom she was referring, he was reluctant to leave and much more so to release the dishes he held. He'd already sacrificed so much time he could have used for procrastinating by dismissing the guests; he didn't want to have to give this up, too. He wasn't ready.
"Ah," he said, and finally relinquished his hold on the plates, slowly so she wouldn't stumble. His eyes lingered just a little longer, though, as if hoping she would see the pleading he really didn't want to be showing in the first place. She didn't so he didn't push, and instead turned toward the door, beckoning with a flick that the men - and one young boy - follow. He heard the shuffling of feet along the carpet, the low voice of the Rain Guardian thanking and reassuring Kyouko, and then nothing but his own shoes on the smooth floor of the corridor. He would take them to what should now be his office, though he could not bring himself claim it.
He heard them trailing behind him: first one set of shoes that clopped deliberately, its steps echoing distastefully off of the walls; then another pair that softly shuffled; then, just a little behind, a third that moved evenly and whisper quiet. Gokudera waited for the trio at the door, standing beside it in the hallway while they filed in. The older two wore the same somber face he did, but Lambo simply couldn't hold onto such stoicism and looked seconds away from tears. Gokudera resisted the urge to reach out to him, completely out of the fear that the boy would cry and that he wouldn't be able to stop those tears or his own.
Lambo was immediately ushered into a seat as Gokudera entered the room, shutting the door. The Rain Guardian sat to one side of him and the Sun Guardian at the other. Gokudera still said nothing as he circled the desk, but he did not sit. Instead, he leaned forward and clicked three times on the computer's keyboard. "Kusakabe-san."
"He's here. He would prefer to stay where he is, however."
Gokudera sighed, though he hadn't been expecting any less. "Fine. But please ask him to listen."
"Right."
Gokudera looked away from the monitor, focusing on his hands pressed against the surface of the desk. His fingers dented the ink blotter in ten different places, the soft foam giving easily under his weight. "There is still a lot of work that needs to be done."
"Gokudera, is it really necessary to talk about all of this today?"
That got him to look up. It also got a bit of his old fire back in his eyes. If he could have, he would have used it to ignite the Rain Guardian where he sat. "Should we sit by and wait for the Millefiore to take this chance to attack again?"
"Well, no, but considering how much damage they already know they've done-"
"You don't think they planned for this? They wouldn't have executed the assassination without a second phase, or more."
"I still don't think it's fair to any of us to jump right back into things as if-"
"As if what? As if he would want us to?"
"Yes. That exactly. Tsuna would not force us right back into work when we are all hurting this badly. He would under-"
"I AM NOT HIM."
The sound of his bark echoed off the walls of his bedroom as Gokudera jolted awake. His sheets were twisted around his legs. His pillow was on the floor. His throat stung a little from the force of his shout, but not as much as his pride did upon the realization that he'd vocalized that outside of the dream.
Not a minute after he woke, there was a knock at his door. Gokudera resisted the urge to shout again, tell him to leave, only the hand didn't wait for a reply at all before opening the door, letting its body in.
"What do you want?"
"Your voice carries more than you think, Gokudera." The Rain Guardian casually crossed the bedroom and came to sit on the side of the bed. He noted the invisible dip, noticed it only because he'd sat on just half of it, but said nothing. "You had that dream again."
"It's the middle of the night. I'm tired."
"And I'm here."
"And I wish you weren't."
There was silence, and a few heartbeats later, Gokudera set about untangling himself. Once freed, he rolled over, away from his friend, and pretended he would be able to go back to sleep.
"Gokudera," that voice spoke, soft and sadder than he had heard it in a long time, "not even Tsuna could do this alone. We don't expect you to either." The Rain Guardian's weight shifted off the bed and Gokudera listened to his footsteps as they finally left him alone in the dark quiet of his bedroom.
Morning came too soon for Gokudera's liking, though in his wakefulness the night seemed to drag on and on. He did not rise until he heard the muffled shuffling of the others outside his door; they would wonder if he was the first one up again. After the corridor had cleared from what he could hear, he slid out of bed and dressed for breakfast. Today would be another long day.
The kitchen bustled with morning sounds: clinking plates and glasses, a steady hum of voices and the bubbling of laughter. Gokudera slid in soundlessly, though everyone registered his presence, silence consuming them at once. Kyouko offered a smile, brave but false, and immediately set about fetching him a plate. Haru refused to make eye contact; his nightmares often kept her awake as well, though she never really knew why. I-Pin's hand reached a half-second too late to catch Lambo's arm as he hurriedly gathered his food and moved away from the main table, sitting on the other side of the room. I-Pin was quick to follow. The Rain Guardian watched the children take their leave, his head slowly turning back to watch Gokudera take up a seat that was still cool. "Good morning, Gokudera," he said.
"Mm," Gokudera grunted in reply as Kyouko set his food down before him. Kyouko seemed to pause for half a moment, throwing a glance to the Rain Guardian, who simply returned it.
Haru would not look up from her food, though she didn't seem to be eating much more of it either.
The rest of breakfast was silent, save the gentle sounds of chewing and glasses being set back onto tables. No one ever had much of anything to talk about around Gokudera, and he was fairly good at pretending it didn't bother him. Then again, it didn't seem to anyone that much of anything made him happy anymore. He had always been prone to scowls, but even then, if one looked hard, a smile was the occasional reward. Lately, his scowl was as permanent as his cigarette, though he was considerate enough not to smoke at mealtimes.
Though the last to arrive, Gokudera was the first to leave, and as always he made sure to hurry away from the kitchen as quickly as he could so he wouldn't hear the stirrings of conversation building back up in his absence. Today, however, he was followed. He could hear the footsteps chasing him, not running, but moving fast enough. He didn't bother to make it a game because he had already lost.
"Gokudera-san!" He stopped and turned, surprised to hear I-Pin speaking. "Gokudera-san, I realize I am probably out of line, but I wish that you would talk to Lambo."
"About what?"
"He...he really looks up to you. Lately, though, after what happened last week, he's afraid..."
After a time, Gokudera responded briskly with, "That's probably for the best." Then he left her, the words she struggled to form falling from her mouth faster than she could collect them, and he thought that was probably for the best as well.
He retreated back to his bedroom. He could more often be found hiding there than anywhere else, due in no small part to the fact that he did not feel right smoking anywhere else. As such, the scent seemed to have managed to embed itself in even the cold steel of the walls. His laundry never smelled as fresh as the others', his whites permanently dingy. And still he went through as many packs a day as he could, lighting the new with the last few embers of the old. No one really liked it, but it was far worse when he went without them.
Continue: The Full Story | Gokudera's Side