Standalone// Armi Della Famiglia
Title: Armi Della Famiglia
Disclaimer: Don't own.
Fandom: Katekyo Hitman Reborn
Character: Gokudera
Rating: G
Notes: It's been far, far too long since I've done a simple drabble piece. Writing this felt good.
Three parts nitroglycerin, one part diatomaceous earth to lower volatility. A little of sodium carbonate. All together, the mixture becomes a paste, to be molded into a cylinder and wrapped in paper. Within the paste should be placed the blasting cap, and the fuse. Hayato only learns what it takes to put together a stick of dynamite long after he becomes proficient with the weapon. "Here," his instructor says to him one day, in the middle of reconstructing a rifle. "If you're going to use those, you might as well learn how to take care of them."
The motions become almost automatic - make sure the fuse is dry, the nitro hasn't begun to weep out. His fingers sweep down the length of the stick, quick and thorough. He enjoys doing maintenence. A guy's supposed to respect his tools, after all. Treat them well, and you could rely on them to work well in the middle of a fight. These'll be his key to getting into the mafia, he thinks, and he will, no matter what the other kids say.
Time passes, a cycle of running away and being found again, hallucinatory piano playing and teaching the neighborhood brats a lesson. It's from Shamal whom he overhears the news, as he puts his ear to the door of his father's study. He runs up to the stairwell and watches from there when the conversation ends and his father exits, the doctor following with yet another pretty sister draped on his arm. Face pressed against the balusters, he mulls on the news of this new heir to the Vongola boss. There'd been several already, one dying after the other, some way or another. (Weak, they hadn't been able to protect themselves, or been able to gather good men to protect them.) But this one's Japanese, and a kid his age who'd never grown up in their world besides. He's curious.
He resolves to go find out what kind of person this Tsunayoshi Sawada is. Running away is easy; he's done it a thousand times before, only this time, it's a little bit further, into territory a little (a lot) more unfamiliar. Maybe in Japan, Bianchi won't be able to find him at all, to drag him back into her torturous grasp. (Maybe in Japan, he'll get lost trying to find what he's looking for, but the thought never crosses his mind.) He gathers what information he can - home address, school, any pictures; a person named Reborn notices his interest and arranges plane tickets, a place to stay.
"We have a new transfer student who was studying overseas in Italy. Gokudera Hayato." His eyes catch on the successor's, and there's nothing in the other boy's manner that suggests he's fitting at all.
A family is made up of the sum total parts of organization and information. A dash of favors, and 'One protects one's own'. At the core is the boss, composed of strength and the ability to muster respect and trust. A good boss will risk his life and even sacrifice himself for the sake of the family, as should any member of the family. Rules, written and unwritten, keep the group together. Hayato has grown up with this knowledge, knows it like he knows the touch of dynamite.
He lights a cigarette, and waits to see whether he can follow this boy to the ends of the earth.
Disclaimer: Don't own.
Fandom: Katekyo Hitman Reborn
Character: Gokudera
Rating: G
Notes: It's been far, far too long since I've done a simple drabble piece. Writing this felt good.
Three parts nitroglycerin, one part diatomaceous earth to lower volatility. A little of sodium carbonate. All together, the mixture becomes a paste, to be molded into a cylinder and wrapped in paper. Within the paste should be placed the blasting cap, and the fuse. Hayato only learns what it takes to put together a stick of dynamite long after he becomes proficient with the weapon. "Here," his instructor says to him one day, in the middle of reconstructing a rifle. "If you're going to use those, you might as well learn how to take care of them."
The motions become almost automatic - make sure the fuse is dry, the nitro hasn't begun to weep out. His fingers sweep down the length of the stick, quick and thorough. He enjoys doing maintenence. A guy's supposed to respect his tools, after all. Treat them well, and you could rely on them to work well in the middle of a fight. These'll be his key to getting into the mafia, he thinks, and he will, no matter what the other kids say.
Time passes, a cycle of running away and being found again, hallucinatory piano playing and teaching the neighborhood brats a lesson. It's from Shamal whom he overhears the news, as he puts his ear to the door of his father's study. He runs up to the stairwell and watches from there when the conversation ends and his father exits, the doctor following with yet another pretty sister draped on his arm. Face pressed against the balusters, he mulls on the news of this new heir to the Vongola boss. There'd been several already, one dying after the other, some way or another. (Weak, they hadn't been able to protect themselves, or been able to gather good men to protect them.) But this one's Japanese, and a kid his age who'd never grown up in their world besides. He's curious.
He resolves to go find out what kind of person this Tsunayoshi Sawada is. Running away is easy; he's done it a thousand times before, only this time, it's a little bit further, into territory a little (a lot) more unfamiliar. Maybe in Japan, Bianchi won't be able to find him at all, to drag him back into her torturous grasp. (Maybe in Japan, he'll get lost trying to find what he's looking for, but the thought never crosses his mind.) He gathers what information he can - home address, school, any pictures; a person named Reborn notices his interest and arranges plane tickets, a place to stay.
"We have a new transfer student who was studying overseas in Italy. Gokudera Hayato." His eyes catch on the successor's, and there's nothing in the other boy's manner that suggests he's fitting at all.
A family is made up of the sum total parts of organization and information. A dash of favors, and 'One protects one's own'. At the core is the boss, composed of strength and the ability to muster respect and trust. A good boss will risk his life and even sacrifice himself for the sake of the family, as should any member of the family. Rules, written and unwritten, keep the group together. Hayato has grown up with this knowledge, knows it like he knows the touch of dynamite.
He lights a cigarette, and waits to see whether he can follow this boy to the ends of the earth.