[Fic] Windshear [Part 48/?]
Thank you so much for the patience and support. Let's see, right now, Dream barely just got home an hour or so ago and has been trying to finish her term papers early lately so that she can free up some time during the mid-term study break. After a bit of fire and refocusing at the workplace, I've picked up another project and am filling two roles in both while new staff are being trained. That about sums up what's been going on lately, I think.
Now, away from real life! Enjoy~♥
Windshear Part [48/?]
Authors: kagayachou and evocates
Characters/Pairings: Mukuro, Ken, Chrome, Chikusa, Yamamoto, Hibari, Reborn, Lambo, Gokudera, Tsuna. Yamamoto/Hibari.
Rating: PG-13
Words: 4047
Summary: Between those who follow and those who lead, what is it that keeps bringing them together?
"Ken? You were looking for Chikusa?" Mukuro felt no obligation to answer Ken's question. It hadn't been directed at him in the first place, and Ken wouldn't dare press for more information from him, without permission, regardless.
"Mukuro-san," unfurled with genuine affection and no little relief. "I didn't see that note he left behind, when I called."
"Kufufu..."
Mukuro paused if only to take in a spoonful of the strawberry sundae that he was sharing with Chikusa. The other man sat across from him in the food court, quietly guarding a mountain of bags.
"So then, you were looking for me, hm?"
"Yeah!" He could almost see Ken nodding enthusiastically. "I did what you asked," Ken said before halting abruptly unsure if it was safe to continue; the background noise was pretty loud, where his leader was calling.
Mukuro nodded, making a sound at the back of his throat that was somewhere between a murmur of approval and a distracted moan.
"What flavor would you like?" he finally asked.
"...Mukuro-san?"
Mukuro laughed lightly. "Ice cream," he clarified, "doesn't come in that flavor, Ken-kun."
Chikusa looked up at the odd tone to find Mukuro smirking at him directly, both eyes violet and shining with an unholy light.
Ken sputtered. "I- I'll have whatever you bring back."
And Mukuro laughed again, a quiet wisp of a laugh like the blinking lights of a firefly, zipping through the air. Weightless, without consequence, and perhaps beautiful in its ephemereal way. Ken heard a quiet thud, as if Mukuro had leaned backwards and his shoulders hit the back of the chair.
"Now, that's no answer at all, Ken."
"But," Ken actually lowered his voice slightly, embarrassed - and then it hit him. "Mukuro-san knows what I like," he almost answered with a growl. It was confusing though; if it wasn't Mukuro... - but why would Byakuran ask something as inconsequential as that?
"I do," Mukuro admitted easily, his voice almost crooning into the mouthpiece. Reaching out, he picked up the cold, small metal spoon, lifting a small scoop of ice cream and putting it into his mouth, smirking at Chikusa slightly before he licked up the sweetness. "But I'd like to hear you say it nonetheless, Ken."
After a long pause, came a quiet, "Cookies 'n cream."
When he chanced to look at Chrome, Ken could tell that she was trying not to outwardly giggle. He growled at her and made a silent clawing motion. Shut up.
Chrome only nodded, ducking her head and hiding the very much amused little smile curving her lips. She couldn't stop laughing, because Ken - the rough Ken, who snapped at everyone - was always so much like a puppy around Mukuro, even after ten years, that it was... cute.
But he probably didn't like the idea of her laughing at him, so she stifled her laughter and cleared the humor from her blue eye before meeting Ken's again.
Except, on the other end of the line, Mukuro was still chuckling.
***
"Stop running away, Yamamoto Takeshi," Hibari stated blandly as he leapt over the railing of the mansion, landing light as a cat on the grounds before continuing to chase Yamamoto through it. He knew what Yamamoto was doing - the promise that the other man had made so long ago was not forgotten, after all - but it didn't mean that he didn't feel annoyed by it.
"Stand still and fight me properly."
"Sorry," Yamamoto said as he turned around to face the other man, "but I can't do both at the same time." With that, he laughed, glancing over Hibari's head and back towards the Vongola mansion. "Looks like a good distance," he practically nodded to himself. While he knew that Hibari didn't care where they fought, as long as they did, it was gratifying that the angry man had still been willing to compromise.
Yamamoto smiled at the thought and reaffixed the direction of his gaze upon Hibari at once, automatically sliding into a defensive position, first to block, and then to launch a counter attack of his own.
There was a smile upon Hibari's face as well, and it was as bloodthirsty as it was beautiful. Yamamoto vaguely wanted to kiss his lips for it, especially when the man had pressed close enough for a second, but nice place, wrong time, he told himself, and filed the thought away with a chuckle.
Hibari didn't even notice the slight shift of light in Yamamoto's eyes, far too concentrated on fighting him. His eyes watched the other man's shoulders and feet, trying to catch his movements before he even began to move. As with any other fight, Hibari was determined to win it.
But it was also the fact that he hated how Yamamoto treat him; how the Rain Guardian seemed to almost pussyfoot around him as if he didn't want to hurt Hibari. He was completely tired of that treatment, and it reminded him all over again why he detested the words 'love' and 'affection'.
Because it made people weak. Yamamoto probably thought he was protecting Hibari by holding back, or he wasn't able to fight him simply because he loved him. It was absolutely stupid and Hibari detested all of it, because such things were what made herbivores so weak; was what made them clip their claws and file down their fangs into bluntness.
Hibari wasn't a herbivore; was born to never be a herbivore. He was terribly deadly, and Yamamoto knew it - but it seemed that he needed a reminder.
Of course, Yamamoto was aware that Hibari was a formidable fighter. It was hard to dismiss the fact when everyone who knew them, including the arcobaleno Reborn, could attest that the Vongola Cloud guardian was the strongest of the six.
Until recently, what with all those exaggerated reports, some of his defeat, and even of his death. Yamamoto couldn't even begin to fathom how strong Mukuro had become now. After all, the Mist guardian hadn't been fighting Hibari with mist flame alone.
And he didn't really want to know, just as he didn't want to see the outcome of a fight between Hibari and Gokudera now when he normally would have been interested - they both had some awesome techniques!
But then again, Yamamoto thought, fighting Hibari himself, first hand, was an even better way to get stronger, wasn't it?
If he could just think of it as training, perhaps...
Even as the thoughts ran in Yamamoto's head, Hibari could see the hesitance in his movements, and he scowled deeply. His deadly intent whipped around the both of them, a weapon in itself as he lifted his heel from the ground, tonfa held in front of him.
"Hold back and I'll bite you to death," Hibari said, giving the other man a warning that he would usually not have bothered with. For if an herivore underestimated him at this point when he was going all out on them, they didn't even deserve to live. Yet...
Perhaps this was a sign of his own weakness.
Hibari pushed it out his mind and leapt forward, the first strike already aimed for Yamamoto's throat.
In the face of such a predictable move, Yamamoto swept the blunt side of his sword upwards, blocking the tonfa and knocking Hibari's swing wide. But of course, the other tonfa was coming in quickly. There might have been a rib-breaking opening too if he hadn't knocked it off course with the hilt of his sword.
It was better than slicing Hibari's arm in retaliation, certainly.
Hibari jumped back immediately, lips drawing back into a sharp snarl even as he kicked his leg forward, aiming for Yamamoto's wrist. He glared at the other man, plainly enraged at Yamamoto still holding back.
"I told you to not hold back on me," he growled quickly, ducking downwards and aiming to crush Yamamoto's kneecaps.
Yamamoto jumped over the tonfa with a laugh, "Sorry!" There was no use telling Hibari that he was trying; trying wasn't the same as doing. "I heard you," he managed. As soon as his feet touched the ground again, he shuffled back smoothly. "Took me a bit to fight my old man seriously, too," he said, holding a hand up in apology.
"Too many excuses," Hibari spat out, pressing his lips into a thin, thin line. He looked at Yamamoto, noting the sword - the other man had the advantage of greater reach than he did, but that had never been much of a problem for Hibari. His lips quirked up into a sharp, cruel smirk, closing his eyes and concentrating.
When he next leapt to try to crush Yamamoto's ribs in, his flames were lit and burning brightly along his tonfas.
Yamamoto's eyes widened even as he instinctively sidestepped. The flames certainly lengthened Hibari's reach though. When his tie came in contact with the fire, Yamamoto was just ever so glad that every single one of their suits were flame resistant. He jerked back.
"Nah~ It's the truth!" But then again, he supposed Hibari would take what he said as a mere excuse.
With that thought in mind, Yamamoto steeled himself and called upon his own flame. There was only one way Yamamoto rather liked to be bitten to death by Hibari, he smiled to himself, and death by tonfa wasn't it. Especially when Cloud flame was involved.
But his own, Rain, had the attribute of tranquility, and that ironically worked faster than Hibari's, propagation.
Yamamoto struck back now - he didn't want to cut Hibari, but he had the power to slow the man down, and eventually stop him.
Hibari immediately darted to the side, away from the glowing blue sword as it came at him. He could feel the heat of the flame against the skin of his neck, and his excitement mounted even further. Yamamoto was a good opponent, one almost as strong as he was, and he had watched him deciminate enemies with an ease that belied his usual idiotic demeanor.
Which was why he pushed and pressed Yamamoto's buttons so hard. He wanted to see him like this; to have his full intensity unleashed against him because this was when Yamamoto was the most exciting, when Yamamoto was worth Hibari's attention and captured it so completely, when neither of them held back with each other and showed the full extent of themselves.
He leapt backwards a little more as Yamamoto came towards him. Even though he could not feel the killing intent from Yamamoto still, his own was thick in the air, aimed at the other man even as he leapt in, violet flames flaring out even more as he swept out his leg to kick out the Rain Guardian's feet.
***
When Lambo found him, Reborn was on the stairs, simple standing there with one hand in his pocket and the other resting upon the railing. In his black suit and fedora, he was the picture perfect textbook example of the model hitman in the mafia.
But when doesn't he look like that? Lambo shook his head and straightened out of his habitual slouch, wondering whether Reborn noticed his approach, if the man was simply ignoring him, as per what seemed like a tradition now, as he only ever seemed to acknowledge his existence when he could use him.
For a long moment, Reborn didn't even take notice of him, staring of in the distance, back to Lambo as he stared out to the sea. The wind was whipping through his hair, moving the strands slightly but, oddly enough, not even shifting the fedora hat for a single moment. His eyes were lidded slightly, Lambo noticed, as if he was thinking hard.
He opened his mouth, about to announce his own presence when he heard the click of a gun. And it was only instinct had made him duck down immediately even before he heard the shot- and the shot never came. Lambo blinked, heart beating so fast in his throat as he looked upwards into Reborn's eyes, and met the barrel of his gun.
"Fast enough," the hitman pronounced, and the weapon disappeared up his sleeve as if it had never been there.
Was that a compliment? An actual compliment from Reborn's mouth? Lambo gaped, wide-eyed and felt his cheeks flush. But then again, it could just have been the sudden burst of adrenaline from facing the barrel of Reborn's gun.
"Fast enough for what?" he couldn't help but ask, because the fact that Reborn noticed him enough to do anything... didn't exactly bode well.
Reborn smirked, but he didn't answer. Taking a step back, he walked right past Lambo and started down the hallway. He didn't even spare a glance back when he spoke again.
"Get up and follow me."
Lambo blinked, dread sinking into his bones, but the one telling him to move was Reborn, and he really would be a kid who never grew up if he thought to ignore an order from that man. Pushing up off the ground, he followed immediately, more than a little curious about what Reborn wanted him for - please tell me it's not to buy another coffee machine.
Reborn didn't speak a single word as he walked through the house, going from the third floor down to the grounds. Sometimes his gaze flickered backwards, as if to check that Lambo was still there instead of having gotten lost or running away. At the front door of the mansions, Reborn stopped, his hand resting on the knob.
"Tell me where Yamamoto and Hibari are."
Lambo stared at the back of his head like the man had suddenly grown another pair of eyes there. "Wh-?" How would I know?
He hadn't seen them all day. Briefly, he looked down at his ring, wondering if Reborn was implying that the guardians were supposed to be able to sense each other's proximity through their rings like the Arcobaleno could through their pacifiers. But if that was the case, wouldn't that skill have come to light oh, say, 10 years ago?
"Um," he cleared his throat. "How?"
Reborn raised an eyebrow, turning around fully and leaning against the door, crossing his arm. His fingers tapped lightly against his elbow, tilting his head to the side as he looked at Lambo with narrowed eyes, as if assessing him fully and finding him completely and utterly lacking.
As usual.
"Think about it. You have five seconds."
Lambo's mind blanked for the next three seconds. He seriously didn't know how Reborn expected him to just magically tell him where Yamamoto and Hibari were. What was going on? Were they in trouble? Why else would Reborn ask him anyway, unless they really were in trouble and he was the only one Reborn could ask - or - he squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head, half frantically.
"I... I-" Now he really was worried, more for his fellow guardians than for himself even. He really wanted to know where they were.
He felt the thunder before lightning flashed through the windows in the foyer. An entirely unnatural thunder, only barely different than the kind that he could use with his dying will. When he opened his eyes again, the lightning seemed to make a silhouette out of Reborn, but Lambo was too concerned to feel intimidated.
"Why-" Lambo looked past the man, in the direction where a battle seemed to be brewing. "Over there," he pointed out the window, "But why?"
Reborn didn't answer him right away, turning around to lean against the windowsill. The wind from that newly brewing storm. The clouds were far too violet to be pure products of nature, and the background of the sky behind them, behind the approaching rains, were a bright, cornflower blue.
He smiled, shaking his head slightly as his fingers drummed against the metal of the sill. To be honest, he had completely anticipated this - with Yamamoto still practically coddling Hibari, and with Hibari's independence and aggressive nature, this could only culminate in a battle.
He was surprised that they had taken so long.
Shrugging slightly, he slid dark, sharp eyes towards Lambo, recognizing the worry that was written on every line of the boy's body, and he smirked to himself. "It looks intense, doesn't it, that battle.
"Do you think they will die?"
Lambo blinked, eyes growing round when he looked back towards Reborn. The thought hadn't crossed his mind until then, the idea that these two, incredibly strong people, might kill each other.
"They're supposed to be in love, right?" It wasn't just that Reborn always seemed to know everything. It was the fact that he even asked Lambo to look for them in the first place. "You... know why they're fighting, don't you?"
A long pause, before Reborn turned, raising an eyebrow at Lambo. For the kid to notice that, and to make it a nervous little guess rather than a loud proclamation like he would have done when he was five... perhaps Lambo wasn't completely hopeless.
"Maybe," Reborn hedged his answer still, turning back to watch as the rain start to fall from the skies. "Do you?"
It's Mr. Happy-Face and Mr. Bite-You-To-Death, Lambo chewed on his lip to prevent himself from verbalizing that thought. "...Maybe?"
But what did that mean anywhere? He tore his eyes away from Reborn to follow his gaze outside. "Something's wrong though... with their flames." He wasn't sure how to explain himself; it was the thunder and lightning crackling in the area around them.
Reborn snorted immediately, narrowing his eyes and glaring slightly at Lambo. His hand slid inside his sleeve, toying slightly with the gun within, but he breathed out quietly, giving himself a little more patience. Just a little more; one more chance to say something that was not completely stupid before he shoot the boy.
"Even a blind man can tell me that," he said wryly.
Bull! He wanted to argue back, but ended up just pouting to keep his mouth shut for a bit longer. Finally, he shook his head, "Neither of them should be able to tap into thunder flame like that - like... it'd hurt the conductor."
"So why do you think that they can, now?" Reborn asked, sounding almost idly as he tapped his fingers against the metal grill again, a small smile on his lips. "Neither of them are users of the thunder flame, after all." This was purely memory work.
Briefly, Lambo wondered if they actually had all the time in the world to speculate on the nature of flame when two of the Vongola guardians could very well hurt each other something bad.
"It's like with storm flame; cloud and rain feed into thunder, but like I can't just simply use those flames on my own, Yamamoto-nii and Hibari-san shouldn't be able to either, unless...
"They must really be straining their resolve, both or... at least one of them."
"They both are," Reborn said, drawling slightly as if he had all the time in the world. He pushed away from the sill, turning around and leaning his back against it this time, tilting his head up to look at the ceiling for a moment.
Then, he smirked to himself, his chin pressing against his chest and his fedora hiding his eyes as he laughed quietly. He turned to Lambo, a blatant challenge on his lips as he reached up and tapped on his bottom lip.
"Now go and stop them, since you're so concerned."
I'm going to die! screamed the ever so silent look on Lambo's face.
But then he bit his lip as he nodded, resigned - it definitely beat risking death via asking Reborn why he, Lambo, was the Vongola's Thunder guardian.
Without another word, Lambo darted past him and out of the door.
***
Upon hearing a knock at his door, Gokudera dropped the towel around his shoulders and hastened to pull on a pair of pants.
"Who is it?" He grumbled, grabbed a random t-shirt from the closet, and paused briefly to hear the answer.
The instant that he did, he pulled the garment over his head and as he smoothed it down his chest, the open irritation that had been evident on his face seemed to suddenly dissolved into the brightest, most beautiful smile that he could muster.
"Tenth! Come in," he stepped aside and ushered the man through his door at once. "For you to come here to see me," he was positively beaming, "Whatever it is that I can do for you, just let me know and it'll be done."
After surviving Ryohei's extreme personality, Bianchi's undying, unwavering and suffocating love, the baseball idiot's... idiocy, and yet another one of Hibari's utterly old and done to death threats - just who was the jealous one, Yamamoto-san, who?
Sawada Tsunayoshi was God's gift to Mankind.
All over again.
More than ever before.
Tsuna stared for three solid seconds at the blinding smile, the whiskey-induced flush and the glistening strands of silver hair that clung to Gokudera's well-defined cheeks. And swallowed as the words, and various unintended meanings sank in.
Briefly, he wondered if he could possibly have a thing for... nice hair. Because if he was going to start noticing whether a guy had particularly attractive qualities now, it really had to be Reborn’s fault. And Yamamoto’s.
Granted, Gokudera’s hair was nowhere near Mukuro’s in length or shine, his right hand man was apparently in the middle of growing out of his 'despise and idolize Dr. Shamal' phase. So it was nicer. And clean and wet, and Tsuna was momentarily side-tracked by the fact that the man standing in front of him smelled like babypowder rather than gunpowder or cigarette smoke.
Come to think of it, Yamamoto used to smell like that sometimes. Curse you, Reborn, for making me notice things like that. I don't even like men that way!
"...Tenth?"
When that smile so easily transformed into an anxious frown, Tsuna blinked and smiled back sheepishly. "I'm fine, Gokudera-kun. I'd just like to talk to you, if you're not um..."
"I'm not busy." Gokudera nodded, pulling a chair out for him as soon as he closed the door behind them. "Got most everything I needed to do out of the way for today." By which he meant making plans for upcoming funerals for the Vongola, the Gesso, and other involved famiglias in the whole Byakuran ordeal, but he could still somehow say these things with a small smile, thanks to the power of the Tenth's presence.
"Ah..." Tsuna sat down.
"And even if I didn't," Gokudera continued as he sat down on his own bed as well, "I'll always make time for you, Tenth."
"G-" It was perhaps the alcohol, Tsuna decided, the made everything Gokudera said sound like a come-on. "You don't have to do that, Gokudera-kun."
"But I do," Gokudera disagreed, his expression dead serious for that moment. "I mean," he shook his head, dropped the subject and grinned again, unwilling to allow frustration to touch him while Tsuna was in the room. "Forgive me, Tenth. What do you want to talk to me about?"
Tsuna shook his head slightly, dropping down into the chair and giving Gokudera a small smile in thanks. He looked at Gokudera for a long moment, wondering wryly to himself that maybe he wasn't busy enough, that he gave too little to Gokudera to do, and that was why his mind could be so idle as to chew on itself.
"I just want to know if you're alright."
"Oh," there was a flicker of expressionlessness between Gokudera's smiles. "I'm fine." He held a hand up before Tsuna could suggest otherwise.
"I just had a run-in with Bianchi and Shamal," he offered. Those two were easy enough to explain.
Tsuna winced a little on reflex, on Gokudera's behalf. "Did... Did Bianchi-san decide not to cater in the end, then?" he asked tentatively.
Gokudera ducked his head then, letting his hair hide his eyes as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Yeah," he nodded once and peered back towards Tsuna almost shyly. "We'll be doing something else, sis and I."
Back: Part 47
Next: TBC
Now, away from real life! Enjoy~♥
Windshear Part [48/?]
Authors: kagayachou and evocates
Characters/Pairings: Mukuro, Ken, Chrome, Chikusa, Yamamoto, Hibari, Reborn, Lambo, Gokudera, Tsuna. Yamamoto/Hibari.
Rating: PG-13
Words: 4047
Summary: Between those who follow and those who lead, what is it that keeps bringing them together?
"Ken? You were looking for Chikusa?" Mukuro felt no obligation to answer Ken's question. It hadn't been directed at him in the first place, and Ken wouldn't dare press for more information from him, without permission, regardless.
"Mukuro-san," unfurled with genuine affection and no little relief. "I didn't see that note he left behind, when I called."
"Kufufu..."
Mukuro paused if only to take in a spoonful of the strawberry sundae that he was sharing with Chikusa. The other man sat across from him in the food court, quietly guarding a mountain of bags.
"So then, you were looking for me, hm?"
"Yeah!" He could almost see Ken nodding enthusiastically. "I did what you asked," Ken said before halting abruptly unsure if it was safe to continue; the background noise was pretty loud, where his leader was calling.
Mukuro nodded, making a sound at the back of his throat that was somewhere between a murmur of approval and a distracted moan.
"What flavor would you like?" he finally asked.
"...Mukuro-san?"
Mukuro laughed lightly. "Ice cream," he clarified, "doesn't come in that flavor, Ken-kun."
Chikusa looked up at the odd tone to find Mukuro smirking at him directly, both eyes violet and shining with an unholy light.
Ken sputtered. "I- I'll have whatever you bring back."
And Mukuro laughed again, a quiet wisp of a laugh like the blinking lights of a firefly, zipping through the air. Weightless, without consequence, and perhaps beautiful in its ephemereal way. Ken heard a quiet thud, as if Mukuro had leaned backwards and his shoulders hit the back of the chair.
"Now, that's no answer at all, Ken."
"But," Ken actually lowered his voice slightly, embarrassed - and then it hit him. "Mukuro-san knows what I like," he almost answered with a growl. It was confusing though; if it wasn't Mukuro... - but why would Byakuran ask something as inconsequential as that?
"I do," Mukuro admitted easily, his voice almost crooning into the mouthpiece. Reaching out, he picked up the cold, small metal spoon, lifting a small scoop of ice cream and putting it into his mouth, smirking at Chikusa slightly before he licked up the sweetness. "But I'd like to hear you say it nonetheless, Ken."
After a long pause, came a quiet, "Cookies 'n cream."
When he chanced to look at Chrome, Ken could tell that she was trying not to outwardly giggle. He growled at her and made a silent clawing motion. Shut up.
Chrome only nodded, ducking her head and hiding the very much amused little smile curving her lips. She couldn't stop laughing, because Ken - the rough Ken, who snapped at everyone - was always so much like a puppy around Mukuro, even after ten years, that it was... cute.
But he probably didn't like the idea of her laughing at him, so she stifled her laughter and cleared the humor from her blue eye before meeting Ken's again.
Except, on the other end of the line, Mukuro was still chuckling.
***
"Stop running away, Yamamoto Takeshi," Hibari stated blandly as he leapt over the railing of the mansion, landing light as a cat on the grounds before continuing to chase Yamamoto through it. He knew what Yamamoto was doing - the promise that the other man had made so long ago was not forgotten, after all - but it didn't mean that he didn't feel annoyed by it.
"Stand still and fight me properly."
"Sorry," Yamamoto said as he turned around to face the other man, "but I can't do both at the same time." With that, he laughed, glancing over Hibari's head and back towards the Vongola mansion. "Looks like a good distance," he practically nodded to himself. While he knew that Hibari didn't care where they fought, as long as they did, it was gratifying that the angry man had still been willing to compromise.
Yamamoto smiled at the thought and reaffixed the direction of his gaze upon Hibari at once, automatically sliding into a defensive position, first to block, and then to launch a counter attack of his own.
There was a smile upon Hibari's face as well, and it was as bloodthirsty as it was beautiful. Yamamoto vaguely wanted to kiss his lips for it, especially when the man had pressed close enough for a second, but nice place, wrong time, he told himself, and filed the thought away with a chuckle.
Hibari didn't even notice the slight shift of light in Yamamoto's eyes, far too concentrated on fighting him. His eyes watched the other man's shoulders and feet, trying to catch his movements before he even began to move. As with any other fight, Hibari was determined to win it.
But it was also the fact that he hated how Yamamoto treat him; how the Rain Guardian seemed to almost pussyfoot around him as if he didn't want to hurt Hibari. He was completely tired of that treatment, and it reminded him all over again why he detested the words 'love' and 'affection'.
Because it made people weak. Yamamoto probably thought he was protecting Hibari by holding back, or he wasn't able to fight him simply because he loved him. It was absolutely stupid and Hibari detested all of it, because such things were what made herbivores so weak; was what made them clip their claws and file down their fangs into bluntness.
Hibari wasn't a herbivore; was born to never be a herbivore. He was terribly deadly, and Yamamoto knew it - but it seemed that he needed a reminder.
Of course, Yamamoto was aware that Hibari was a formidable fighter. It was hard to dismiss the fact when everyone who knew them, including the arcobaleno Reborn, could attest that the Vongola Cloud guardian was the strongest of the six.
Until recently, what with all those exaggerated reports, some of his defeat, and even of his death. Yamamoto couldn't even begin to fathom how strong Mukuro had become now. After all, the Mist guardian hadn't been fighting Hibari with mist flame alone.
And he didn't really want to know, just as he didn't want to see the outcome of a fight between Hibari and Gokudera now when he normally would have been interested - they both had some awesome techniques!
But then again, Yamamoto thought, fighting Hibari himself, first hand, was an even better way to get stronger, wasn't it?
If he could just think of it as training, perhaps...
Even as the thoughts ran in Yamamoto's head, Hibari could see the hesitance in his movements, and he scowled deeply. His deadly intent whipped around the both of them, a weapon in itself as he lifted his heel from the ground, tonfa held in front of him.
"Hold back and I'll bite you to death," Hibari said, giving the other man a warning that he would usually not have bothered with. For if an herivore underestimated him at this point when he was going all out on them, they didn't even deserve to live. Yet...
Perhaps this was a sign of his own weakness.
Hibari pushed it out his mind and leapt forward, the first strike already aimed for Yamamoto's throat.
In the face of such a predictable move, Yamamoto swept the blunt side of his sword upwards, blocking the tonfa and knocking Hibari's swing wide. But of course, the other tonfa was coming in quickly. There might have been a rib-breaking opening too if he hadn't knocked it off course with the hilt of his sword.
It was better than slicing Hibari's arm in retaliation, certainly.
Hibari jumped back immediately, lips drawing back into a sharp snarl even as he kicked his leg forward, aiming for Yamamoto's wrist. He glared at the other man, plainly enraged at Yamamoto still holding back.
"I told you to not hold back on me," he growled quickly, ducking downwards and aiming to crush Yamamoto's kneecaps.
Yamamoto jumped over the tonfa with a laugh, "Sorry!" There was no use telling Hibari that he was trying; trying wasn't the same as doing. "I heard you," he managed. As soon as his feet touched the ground again, he shuffled back smoothly. "Took me a bit to fight my old man seriously, too," he said, holding a hand up in apology.
"Too many excuses," Hibari spat out, pressing his lips into a thin, thin line. He looked at Yamamoto, noting the sword - the other man had the advantage of greater reach than he did, but that had never been much of a problem for Hibari. His lips quirked up into a sharp, cruel smirk, closing his eyes and concentrating.
When he next leapt to try to crush Yamamoto's ribs in, his flames were lit and burning brightly along his tonfas.
Yamamoto's eyes widened even as he instinctively sidestepped. The flames certainly lengthened Hibari's reach though. When his tie came in contact with the fire, Yamamoto was just ever so glad that every single one of their suits were flame resistant. He jerked back.
"Nah~ It's the truth!" But then again, he supposed Hibari would take what he said as a mere excuse.
With that thought in mind, Yamamoto steeled himself and called upon his own flame. There was only one way Yamamoto rather liked to be bitten to death by Hibari, he smiled to himself, and death by tonfa wasn't it. Especially when Cloud flame was involved.
But his own, Rain, had the attribute of tranquility, and that ironically worked faster than Hibari's, propagation.
Yamamoto struck back now - he didn't want to cut Hibari, but he had the power to slow the man down, and eventually stop him.
Hibari immediately darted to the side, away from the glowing blue sword as it came at him. He could feel the heat of the flame against the skin of his neck, and his excitement mounted even further. Yamamoto was a good opponent, one almost as strong as he was, and he had watched him deciminate enemies with an ease that belied his usual idiotic demeanor.
Which was why he pushed and pressed Yamamoto's buttons so hard. He wanted to see him like this; to have his full intensity unleashed against him because this was when Yamamoto was the most exciting, when Yamamoto was worth Hibari's attention and captured it so completely, when neither of them held back with each other and showed the full extent of themselves.
He leapt backwards a little more as Yamamoto came towards him. Even though he could not feel the killing intent from Yamamoto still, his own was thick in the air, aimed at the other man even as he leapt in, violet flames flaring out even more as he swept out his leg to kick out the Rain Guardian's feet.
***
When Lambo found him, Reborn was on the stairs, simple standing there with one hand in his pocket and the other resting upon the railing. In his black suit and fedora, he was the picture perfect textbook example of the model hitman in the mafia.
But when doesn't he look like that? Lambo shook his head and straightened out of his habitual slouch, wondering whether Reborn noticed his approach, if the man was simply ignoring him, as per what seemed like a tradition now, as he only ever seemed to acknowledge his existence when he could use him.
For a long moment, Reborn didn't even take notice of him, staring of in the distance, back to Lambo as he stared out to the sea. The wind was whipping through his hair, moving the strands slightly but, oddly enough, not even shifting the fedora hat for a single moment. His eyes were lidded slightly, Lambo noticed, as if he was thinking hard.
He opened his mouth, about to announce his own presence when he heard the click of a gun. And it was only instinct had made him duck down immediately even before he heard the shot- and the shot never came. Lambo blinked, heart beating so fast in his throat as he looked upwards into Reborn's eyes, and met the barrel of his gun.
"Fast enough," the hitman pronounced, and the weapon disappeared up his sleeve as if it had never been there.
Was that a compliment? An actual compliment from Reborn's mouth? Lambo gaped, wide-eyed and felt his cheeks flush. But then again, it could just have been the sudden burst of adrenaline from facing the barrel of Reborn's gun.
"Fast enough for what?" he couldn't help but ask, because the fact that Reborn noticed him enough to do anything... didn't exactly bode well.
Reborn smirked, but he didn't answer. Taking a step back, he walked right past Lambo and started down the hallway. He didn't even spare a glance back when he spoke again.
"Get up and follow me."
Lambo blinked, dread sinking into his bones, but the one telling him to move was Reborn, and he really would be a kid who never grew up if he thought to ignore an order from that man. Pushing up off the ground, he followed immediately, more than a little curious about what Reborn wanted him for - please tell me it's not to buy another coffee machine.
Reborn didn't speak a single word as he walked through the house, going from the third floor down to the grounds. Sometimes his gaze flickered backwards, as if to check that Lambo was still there instead of having gotten lost or running away. At the front door of the mansions, Reborn stopped, his hand resting on the knob.
"Tell me where Yamamoto and Hibari are."
Lambo stared at the back of his head like the man had suddenly grown another pair of eyes there. "Wh-?" How would I know?
He hadn't seen them all day. Briefly, he looked down at his ring, wondering if Reborn was implying that the guardians were supposed to be able to sense each other's proximity through their rings like the Arcobaleno could through their pacifiers. But if that was the case, wouldn't that skill have come to light oh, say, 10 years ago?
"Um," he cleared his throat. "How?"
Reborn raised an eyebrow, turning around fully and leaning against the door, crossing his arm. His fingers tapped lightly against his elbow, tilting his head to the side as he looked at Lambo with narrowed eyes, as if assessing him fully and finding him completely and utterly lacking.
As usual.
"Think about it. You have five seconds."
Lambo's mind blanked for the next three seconds. He seriously didn't know how Reborn expected him to just magically tell him where Yamamoto and Hibari were. What was going on? Were they in trouble? Why else would Reborn ask him anyway, unless they really were in trouble and he was the only one Reborn could ask - or - he squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head, half frantically.
"I... I-" Now he really was worried, more for his fellow guardians than for himself even. He really wanted to know where they were.
He felt the thunder before lightning flashed through the windows in the foyer. An entirely unnatural thunder, only barely different than the kind that he could use with his dying will. When he opened his eyes again, the lightning seemed to make a silhouette out of Reborn, but Lambo was too concerned to feel intimidated.
"Why-" Lambo looked past the man, in the direction where a battle seemed to be brewing. "Over there," he pointed out the window, "But why?"
Reborn didn't answer him right away, turning around to lean against the windowsill. The wind from that newly brewing storm. The clouds were far too violet to be pure products of nature, and the background of the sky behind them, behind the approaching rains, were a bright, cornflower blue.
He smiled, shaking his head slightly as his fingers drummed against the metal of the sill. To be honest, he had completely anticipated this - with Yamamoto still practically coddling Hibari, and with Hibari's independence and aggressive nature, this could only culminate in a battle.
He was surprised that they had taken so long.
Shrugging slightly, he slid dark, sharp eyes towards Lambo, recognizing the worry that was written on every line of the boy's body, and he smirked to himself. "It looks intense, doesn't it, that battle.
"Do you think they will die?"
Lambo blinked, eyes growing round when he looked back towards Reborn. The thought hadn't crossed his mind until then, the idea that these two, incredibly strong people, might kill each other.
"They're supposed to be in love, right?" It wasn't just that Reborn always seemed to know everything. It was the fact that he even asked Lambo to look for them in the first place. "You... know why they're fighting, don't you?"
A long pause, before Reborn turned, raising an eyebrow at Lambo. For the kid to notice that, and to make it a nervous little guess rather than a loud proclamation like he would have done when he was five... perhaps Lambo wasn't completely hopeless.
"Maybe," Reborn hedged his answer still, turning back to watch as the rain start to fall from the skies. "Do you?"
It's Mr. Happy-Face and Mr. Bite-You-To-Death, Lambo chewed on his lip to prevent himself from verbalizing that thought. "...Maybe?"
But what did that mean anywhere? He tore his eyes away from Reborn to follow his gaze outside. "Something's wrong though... with their flames." He wasn't sure how to explain himself; it was the thunder and lightning crackling in the area around them.
Reborn snorted immediately, narrowing his eyes and glaring slightly at Lambo. His hand slid inside his sleeve, toying slightly with the gun within, but he breathed out quietly, giving himself a little more patience. Just a little more; one more chance to say something that was not completely stupid before he shoot the boy.
"Even a blind man can tell me that," he said wryly.
Bull! He wanted to argue back, but ended up just pouting to keep his mouth shut for a bit longer. Finally, he shook his head, "Neither of them should be able to tap into thunder flame like that - like... it'd hurt the conductor."
"So why do you think that they can, now?" Reborn asked, sounding almost idly as he tapped his fingers against the metal grill again, a small smile on his lips. "Neither of them are users of the thunder flame, after all." This was purely memory work.
Briefly, Lambo wondered if they actually had all the time in the world to speculate on the nature of flame when two of the Vongola guardians could very well hurt each other something bad.
"It's like with storm flame; cloud and rain feed into thunder, but like I can't just simply use those flames on my own, Yamamoto-nii and Hibari-san shouldn't be able to either, unless...
"They must really be straining their resolve, both or... at least one of them."
"They both are," Reborn said, drawling slightly as if he had all the time in the world. He pushed away from the sill, turning around and leaning his back against it this time, tilting his head up to look at the ceiling for a moment.
Then, he smirked to himself, his chin pressing against his chest and his fedora hiding his eyes as he laughed quietly. He turned to Lambo, a blatant challenge on his lips as he reached up and tapped on his bottom lip.
"Now go and stop them, since you're so concerned."
I'm going to die! screamed the ever so silent look on Lambo's face.
But then he bit his lip as he nodded, resigned - it definitely beat risking death via asking Reborn why he, Lambo, was the Vongola's Thunder guardian.
Without another word, Lambo darted past him and out of the door.
***
Upon hearing a knock at his door, Gokudera dropped the towel around his shoulders and hastened to pull on a pair of pants.
"Who is it?" He grumbled, grabbed a random t-shirt from the closet, and paused briefly to hear the answer.
The instant that he did, he pulled the garment over his head and as he smoothed it down his chest, the open irritation that had been evident on his face seemed to suddenly dissolved into the brightest, most beautiful smile that he could muster.
"Tenth! Come in," he stepped aside and ushered the man through his door at once. "For you to come here to see me," he was positively beaming, "Whatever it is that I can do for you, just let me know and it'll be done."
After surviving Ryohei's extreme personality, Bianchi's undying, unwavering and suffocating love, the baseball idiot's... idiocy, and yet another one of Hibari's utterly old and done to death threats - just who was the jealous one, Yamamoto-san, who?
Sawada Tsunayoshi was God's gift to Mankind.
All over again.
More than ever before.
Tsuna stared for three solid seconds at the blinding smile, the whiskey-induced flush and the glistening strands of silver hair that clung to Gokudera's well-defined cheeks. And swallowed as the words, and various unintended meanings sank in.
Briefly, he wondered if he could possibly have a thing for... nice hair. Because if he was going to start noticing whether a guy had particularly attractive qualities now, it really had to be Reborn’s fault. And Yamamoto’s.
Granted, Gokudera’s hair was nowhere near Mukuro’s in length or shine, his right hand man was apparently in the middle of growing out of his 'despise and idolize Dr. Shamal' phase. So it was nicer. And clean and wet, and Tsuna was momentarily side-tracked by the fact that the man standing in front of him smelled like babypowder rather than gunpowder or cigarette smoke.
Come to think of it, Yamamoto used to smell like that sometimes. Curse you, Reborn, for making me notice things like that. I don't even like men that way!
"...Tenth?"
When that smile so easily transformed into an anxious frown, Tsuna blinked and smiled back sheepishly. "I'm fine, Gokudera-kun. I'd just like to talk to you, if you're not um..."
"I'm not busy." Gokudera nodded, pulling a chair out for him as soon as he closed the door behind them. "Got most everything I needed to do out of the way for today." By which he meant making plans for upcoming funerals for the Vongola, the Gesso, and other involved famiglias in the whole Byakuran ordeal, but he could still somehow say these things with a small smile, thanks to the power of the Tenth's presence.
"Ah..." Tsuna sat down.
"And even if I didn't," Gokudera continued as he sat down on his own bed as well, "I'll always make time for you, Tenth."
"G-" It was perhaps the alcohol, Tsuna decided, the made everything Gokudera said sound like a come-on. "You don't have to do that, Gokudera-kun."
"But I do," Gokudera disagreed, his expression dead serious for that moment. "I mean," he shook his head, dropped the subject and grinned again, unwilling to allow frustration to touch him while Tsuna was in the room. "Forgive me, Tenth. What do you want to talk to me about?"
Tsuna shook his head slightly, dropping down into the chair and giving Gokudera a small smile in thanks. He looked at Gokudera for a long moment, wondering wryly to himself that maybe he wasn't busy enough, that he gave too little to Gokudera to do, and that was why his mind could be so idle as to chew on itself.
"I just want to know if you're alright."
"Oh," there was a flicker of expressionlessness between Gokudera's smiles. "I'm fine." He held a hand up before Tsuna could suggest otherwise.
"I just had a run-in with Bianchi and Shamal," he offered. Those two were easy enough to explain.
Tsuna winced a little on reflex, on Gokudera's behalf. "Did... Did Bianchi-san decide not to cater in the end, then?" he asked tentatively.
Gokudera ducked his head then, letting his hair hide his eyes as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Yeah," he nodded once and peered back towards Tsuna almost shyly. "We'll be doing something else, sis and I."
Back: Part 47
Next: TBC