Katekyou Hitman Reborn! » La Pétite Mort
Title La Pétite Mort
Chapter Eight
Character/Pairing Haru Miura/Hayato Gokudera, and Kyouko Sasagawa
Warning None.
Wordcount 1,502
By the time Haru awoke the next morning, Gokudera was already gone, and she attributed the slight ache in her chest to her groggy mind playing tricks. She sat up, rubbing her eyes, and simply slid her feet out of bed. She figured he had gone to breakfast and that even if he'd only just left, she wouldn't be alone for long. As she waited, she smoothed her hair the best she could without a mirror, fingers sufficing in place of a comb. Then she amused herself with the things Gokudera kept on his nightstand, idly toying with the cigarettes and lighter, spinning them in slow circles.
When she heard the door opening, she froze for a moment, forgetting where she was. It came in a flash just before he entered and she quickly retracted her hand, clasped them both in her lap and kept her knees pressed together to keep as modest as she could, given her clothing. He stopped in the doorway to look at her, and slowly her eyes met his, not expecting the softness she found.
"You aren't angry with me." Haru wasn't quite sure if that was meant to be a question or not.
"No." His voice was gentle and she felt her heart lift a little.
"Will you tell me what's been bothering you since Tsuna-san left?"
Gokudera flinched and Haru feared she'd been too bold. Her hands tightened around each other in anxiety. But he still did not shout. "Not now."
"But will you?"
"...I might."
"Please?"
"Haru." His voice was sharp, but not cruel, and Haru felt her heart start beating again.
"I'm sorry."
"It's all right. Just. Not yet." Haru looked back to her hands, nodding. "They're waiting for you in the kitchen."
He was getting rid of her, now. "I know."
"Do you want me to go get you some clothes?"
Haru let out a soft, surprised laugh, and looked up at him then. She was too much a mix of relief, shame, and anxiety. "The green dress, please." Her breath caught when she saw him smile (tiny as it was, it was a smile and it was just for her), nod, and leave to get it.
Once she was dressed, she found him standing in the hallway, waiting for her. She mustered a small smile at that, but told herself it was just because he had something to say. Well, so did she. "...Could-"
"I wasn't planning on it," he interrupted, and the look on his face told her he'd been about to say the same, that no one needed to know.
"Me neither," she said quietly. She realized there were so many other things she wanted to say and ask (and do), but that she didn't even know where to start. Finally, eventually, she simply decided it would happen when it would, and nodded to herself in agreement. She gave a small nod to Gokudera in parting, and smiled a little lamely before hurrying past him to the kitchen. Kyouko must be so worried.
Her thoughts were confirmed the moment she set foot into the room and Kyouko's eyes widened first because of her surprise and secondly because she was trying to swallow a mouthful of too-hot coffee. "Hahiii!"
"It's all right! I'm all right!" Kyouko set her cup down and lifted her hands to Haru as she stood to go and placate her, but also to check for a fever. "Are you feeling all right? It's almost ten."
"I feel fine. ...Just extra tired, it seems!" She smiled at Kyouko, hoping she would believe her, and got only a small frown in return. "W-what did you make for breakfast today, Kyouko-chan?"
"French toast. Lambo helped to make it. I can cook you some fresh?"
Haru nodded enthusiastically, her smile slowly becoming more genuine and less manic, as she helped Kyouko mix up a new egg mixture for dipping the bread. She added just a little extra cinnamon, which begat a look from Kyouko, which begat her own playful assault upon Kyouko with the cinnamon, which ended in quite a mess on the floor and counter where they stood, but more than enough laughter to make up for it. This was how things were supposed to be: fun and light and innocent. Haru thought of Gokudera and the emptiness in his eyes and wondered again what could be causing it.
Haru ate her breakfast quietly chatting with Kyouko, who would stealthily remove pieces of it from her plate to tuck them into her own mouth, always making Haru smile. However, they both smiled when, so faintly they both thought they were imagining it, they heard expert fingers dancing over piano keys. Haru couldn't hide the way her smile widened, but Kyouko was friend enough to not say anything.
That night, as Haru stood alone in the girls' bedroom, readying for sleep, she made a decision: she didn't care what the others thought. She didn't understand why Gokudera did, but that mattered only peripherally to her. He would come around; he would have to. So Haru gathered up a pillow and clothes for tomorrow morning and marched her way just a bit down the corridor to Gokudera's bedroom. With a count of one-two-now, Haru tricked herself into opening the door sooner than she wanted to and saw Gokudera standing at his bed, face peering over his shoulder to see who was there. He didn't miss a beat, inviting her in immediately with an opened door that he also shut for her.
Neither said a word for the rest of the night, though Haru tried her best to prove one could say a lot without words, slipping a clever arm around Gokudera's waist before they both fell asleep.
Things were not always so silent, as the weeks would show. Occasionally she would get him to talk, but it would never be about much. Still, whatever she could get him to say, she would. He would explain to her the differences between ballads and boleros, serenades and sonatas. He would tell her how one can make simple explosives with minimal ingredients and how many hard ways he had learned before he'd gotten it right. He was an encyclopedia of information, his knowledge seemingly endless - but he always held her at arm's length and she felt it.
Then there came a night, after so many nights of peace that had everyone at ease, when the nightmare came back. Gokudera's sudden jolt woke Haru, who immediately sat up to see what was the matter. He took her hand and squeezed it too hard, so she said something and he ended up letting go. Even in her haze of sleep she wished she hadn't said anything. As if he could hear her thoughts, he turned to her, apologizing, so she reassured him with coos and rested her head on his chest as she often did, only to find his shirt completely drenched. She sat up, staring at him worriedly in the dark. "Did you have that dream again?"
"No. No, this one was different. It...it was worse, somehow. But it's already gone."
She began to wipe the sweat from his forehead, though there was little else she could do with it but wipe it onto his pillowcase, which was just as soaked. She eventually tossed it to the floor, and soon his shirt joined it. Then she laid her own pillow beneath his head, ran a hand down his bare chest to clear it, and laid her own head there. She'd hoped the contact would soothe him; she quickly realized it would not.
"Did you want me to go make you some tea?"
"No."
"What can I do?"
"You've done more than enough."
"I can hear how fast your heart's still beating."
"S-Sorry. Lay your head on the pillow. There's room." She lifted her head and carefully laid beside him, pressing close, tucking her face by his neck. It was a selfish move; he was damp and musky but she just wanted to be close. He seemed to understand and rolled over onto his side, wrapped his arms around her while she cuddled up, head now beneath his chin and her arms curled against his chest.
"Haru," he said softly.
"Yes?" The tickle of his fingers along her spine felt both dangerous and thrilling. She made no move, waiting to see what he would do, and when his hand slipped up her nightshirt she nearly gasped out loud. And yet she found her fingers playing along, gliding over his still slick skin, seeing what they might find. It was mere moments before Gokudera had her flipped on her back, bearing down on her like an animal. Her entire body tingled and her nightshirt itched like mad. It eventually, inevitably, took its place on the floor strewn with the rest of their casualties and lay there for the night while he slept with his head on her pillow and she with her head on his chest.
Continue: The Full Story AND Haru's Side
Chapter Eight
Character/Pairing Haru Miura/Hayato Gokudera, and Kyouko Sasagawa
Warning None.
Wordcount 1,502
By the time Haru awoke the next morning, Gokudera was already gone, and she attributed the slight ache in her chest to her groggy mind playing tricks. She sat up, rubbing her eyes, and simply slid her feet out of bed. She figured he had gone to breakfast and that even if he'd only just left, she wouldn't be alone for long. As she waited, she smoothed her hair the best she could without a mirror, fingers sufficing in place of a comb. Then she amused herself with the things Gokudera kept on his nightstand, idly toying with the cigarettes and lighter, spinning them in slow circles.
When she heard the door opening, she froze for a moment, forgetting where she was. It came in a flash just before he entered and she quickly retracted her hand, clasped them both in her lap and kept her knees pressed together to keep as modest as she could, given her clothing. He stopped in the doorway to look at her, and slowly her eyes met his, not expecting the softness she found.
"You aren't angry with me." Haru wasn't quite sure if that was meant to be a question or not.
"No." His voice was gentle and she felt her heart lift a little.
"Will you tell me what's been bothering you since Tsuna-san left?"
Gokudera flinched and Haru feared she'd been too bold. Her hands tightened around each other in anxiety. But he still did not shout. "Not now."
"But will you?"
"...I might."
"Please?"
"Haru." His voice was sharp, but not cruel, and Haru felt her heart start beating again.
"I'm sorry."
"It's all right. Just. Not yet." Haru looked back to her hands, nodding. "They're waiting for you in the kitchen."
He was getting rid of her, now. "I know."
"Do you want me to go get you some clothes?"
Haru let out a soft, surprised laugh, and looked up at him then. She was too much a mix of relief, shame, and anxiety. "The green dress, please." Her breath caught when she saw him smile (tiny as it was, it was a smile and it was just for her), nod, and leave to get it.
Once she was dressed, she found him standing in the hallway, waiting for her. She mustered a small smile at that, but told herself it was just because he had something to say. Well, so did she. "...Could-"
"I wasn't planning on it," he interrupted, and the look on his face told her he'd been about to say the same, that no one needed to know.
"Me neither," she said quietly. She realized there were so many other things she wanted to say and ask (and do), but that she didn't even know where to start. Finally, eventually, she simply decided it would happen when it would, and nodded to herself in agreement. She gave a small nod to Gokudera in parting, and smiled a little lamely before hurrying past him to the kitchen. Kyouko must be so worried.
Her thoughts were confirmed the moment she set foot into the room and Kyouko's eyes widened first because of her surprise and secondly because she was trying to swallow a mouthful of too-hot coffee. "Hahiii!"
"It's all right! I'm all right!" Kyouko set her cup down and lifted her hands to Haru as she stood to go and placate her, but also to check for a fever. "Are you feeling all right? It's almost ten."
"I feel fine. ...Just extra tired, it seems!" She smiled at Kyouko, hoping she would believe her, and got only a small frown in return. "W-what did you make for breakfast today, Kyouko-chan?"
"French toast. Lambo helped to make it. I can cook you some fresh?"
Haru nodded enthusiastically, her smile slowly becoming more genuine and less manic, as she helped Kyouko mix up a new egg mixture for dipping the bread. She added just a little extra cinnamon, which begat a look from Kyouko, which begat her own playful assault upon Kyouko with the cinnamon, which ended in quite a mess on the floor and counter where they stood, but more than enough laughter to make up for it. This was how things were supposed to be: fun and light and innocent. Haru thought of Gokudera and the emptiness in his eyes and wondered again what could be causing it.
Haru ate her breakfast quietly chatting with Kyouko, who would stealthily remove pieces of it from her plate to tuck them into her own mouth, always making Haru smile. However, they both smiled when, so faintly they both thought they were imagining it, they heard expert fingers dancing over piano keys. Haru couldn't hide the way her smile widened, but Kyouko was friend enough to not say anything.
That night, as Haru stood alone in the girls' bedroom, readying for sleep, she made a decision: she didn't care what the others thought. She didn't understand why Gokudera did, but that mattered only peripherally to her. He would come around; he would have to. So Haru gathered up a pillow and clothes for tomorrow morning and marched her way just a bit down the corridor to Gokudera's bedroom. With a count of one-two-now, Haru tricked herself into opening the door sooner than she wanted to and saw Gokudera standing at his bed, face peering over his shoulder to see who was there. He didn't miss a beat, inviting her in immediately with an opened door that he also shut for her.
Neither said a word for the rest of the night, though Haru tried her best to prove one could say a lot without words, slipping a clever arm around Gokudera's waist before they both fell asleep.
Things were not always so silent, as the weeks would show. Occasionally she would get him to talk, but it would never be about much. Still, whatever she could get him to say, she would. He would explain to her the differences between ballads and boleros, serenades and sonatas. He would tell her how one can make simple explosives with minimal ingredients and how many hard ways he had learned before he'd gotten it right. He was an encyclopedia of information, his knowledge seemingly endless - but he always held her at arm's length and she felt it.
Then there came a night, after so many nights of peace that had everyone at ease, when the nightmare came back. Gokudera's sudden jolt woke Haru, who immediately sat up to see what was the matter. He took her hand and squeezed it too hard, so she said something and he ended up letting go. Even in her haze of sleep she wished she hadn't said anything. As if he could hear her thoughts, he turned to her, apologizing, so she reassured him with coos and rested her head on his chest as she often did, only to find his shirt completely drenched. She sat up, staring at him worriedly in the dark. "Did you have that dream again?"
"No. No, this one was different. It...it was worse, somehow. But it's already gone."
She began to wipe the sweat from his forehead, though there was little else she could do with it but wipe it onto his pillowcase, which was just as soaked. She eventually tossed it to the floor, and soon his shirt joined it. Then she laid her own pillow beneath his head, ran a hand down his bare chest to clear it, and laid her own head there. She'd hoped the contact would soothe him; she quickly realized it would not.
"Did you want me to go make you some tea?"
"No."
"What can I do?"
"You've done more than enough."
"I can hear how fast your heart's still beating."
"S-Sorry. Lay your head on the pillow. There's room." She lifted her head and carefully laid beside him, pressing close, tucking her face by his neck. It was a selfish move; he was damp and musky but she just wanted to be close. He seemed to understand and rolled over onto his side, wrapped his arms around her while she cuddled up, head now beneath his chin and her arms curled against his chest.
"Haru," he said softly.
"Yes?" The tickle of his fingers along her spine felt both dangerous and thrilling. She made no move, waiting to see what he would do, and when his hand slipped up her nightshirt she nearly gasped out loud. And yet she found her fingers playing along, gliding over his still slick skin, seeing what they might find. It was mere moments before Gokudera had her flipped on her back, bearing down on her like an animal. Her entire body tingled and her nightshirt itched like mad. It eventually, inevitably, took its place on the floor strewn with the rest of their casualties and lay there for the night while he slept with his head on her pillow and she with her head on his chest.
Continue: The Full Story AND Haru's Side