(fanfic) Solace
Title: Solace
Set/Prompt: I // 4. TYL!Haru, TYL!Tsuna, TYL!Vongola Family-Solace-she checks on them all before allowing herself to rest
Characters/Pairings: TYL!Haru, TYL!cast, mentions of Haru/Tsuna
A/N: Set after the future arc, but still in the future. Um...no dialogue, so I can’t say how proud I am of it. I’m afraid it might be too...passive or wordy. Also, I might look like I’m comparing Haru to Kyoko, but I’m not trying to. Really. I just ended up writing that and I liked the way it looked.
Also, so bascially, I'm submitting all of my fics a week late. Aren't I horrible? D:
Summary: It’s a routine she follows, to the letter, least she lose them one day.
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It’s quiet, at night, even in their stronghold. Her steps echo lightly down the halls-over the years, that is one thing she has mastered. She lands on the balls of her feet, shifting her weight with each move as she glides across the floor.
Haru is neither beautiful nor graceful. No, that is Kyoko, her long hair delicate as a snowflake. She smiles, lightly, brightly, and the audience is captivated. That is Kyoko’s charm and something that Haru has since learned to not be envious of.
(too envious off, for she still stares at her mirror and practices her expressions and wonders when Tsuna will finally look at her that way)
Instead, Haru’s come to love her own abilities, her own minor feats.
She opens a door, peers in, and shuts it when she finds no one. Perhaps this is a force of habit, since they’ve changed the future. An hour before midnight, without fail, she finds herself patrolling the halls and searching for her hidden family. They never stay in one spot-they are too busy for that, but she needs to see them once before she sleeps.
Once, to confirm they are in one piece, that there is no blood dripping down the walls and the bangs she hears are from Gokudera’s experiments and Hibari’s (much-calmer) outbursts. She peers in-there, Lambo is sleeping, sprawled on the floor, his bowl of ramen splattered on the carpet. He stretches, knocking the bowl even more, and snores on. Tomorrow she’ll get angry and yell at him, but for now she gives a slight sigh and covers him as he sleeps with a blanket.
Two rooms down the hall, she finds Yamamoto doing his evening stretches. His shirt lies in a corner, sweaty and rolled up, and his arms move in quickening blurs. His sword lies in a corner, a plate of sushi beside it, and she silently closes the door before he notices her. Bianchi’s sleeping on her bed, an poisonous cucumber pack on her face (Haru makes sure to carefully wipe it off), and Spanner’s carefully adjusting his next idea.
Gokudera’s the only face she sees, if any. He takes to small patrols himself, not fully accepting Tsuna’s safety anymore.
(No one does, and that’s why Hibari disappears for days and Yamamoto swings ever harder and Ryohei wakes up earlier)
He nods, crouching slightly as he inspects each crevice in the wall, each cranny and nook. Then, satisfied, he returns to his experiments.
Tsuna’s is the last room she sees, his breathing soft and low and he turns slightly when she opens the door. His hair is still a huge mess and his room not as neat as it ought to be. There are other signs of change-the documents on his desk, the gun under his pillow, the hidden door behind his curtains.
He’s still Tsuna and she takes what she can get. A soft ‘Goodnight’ and she leaves the way she came.
It’s still silent in the halls, silent but warm and comfortable. She likes this quiet, the quiet of soft humming and sharp snores, of tools clinking and dishes breaking. It’s the quiet of home and safety and of everything she needs to know.
This is Haru’s small accomplishment, the ability to keep her family safe, and she chooses that over any beauty or grace.
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