[KHR][31_Days][59] the long, twilight struggle
(prompt from 31_Days)
the long, twilight struggle
The roof is hardly comfortable, but it has the best vantage point of the area. Tenth's bedroom window is directly below, blinds open and bathing the yard in soft yellow light, illuminating the shadowed grass the setting sun darkens. There's no screaming, no complaints, no laughter, no voices, no noise. Perfectly quiet. Almost serene.
Hibari was up here earlier, Hayato knows. The prefect's patrols through this part of the neighbourhood usually involve leaping from rooftop to rooftop. Maybe for the advantage of distance, line of sight. Probably because of the crowds. (If the rooftops of the shopping center were closer to the ground, Hayato thinks Hibari would use those, too. Instead he just sends Kusakabe.) There's still a few yellow feathers from Hibird--or Hibird-ni, or Hibird-san. How many does Hibari have now? No Hibird-shi, of course.
Hibari is superstitious. Hayato almost wants to laugh, but so is he.
Hayato tries not to crunch the roof tiles as he shifts, gets comfortable, rearranges his weapons for easier access. Reborn is with Tenth down in Tenth's room. They're doing paperwork Ninth sent over with one of his eagles, small things that Tenth needs to know about, things that don't require a Guardian's presence. Baseball Idiot is at his father's restaurant, the others are busy tonight, so Hayato stays back. Someone needs to protect Tenth. Reborn, obviously, but Reborn is still getting used to having a child's body instead of an infant's instead of an adult's. Better not to take a chance, especially not tonight.
Mama and the kids (and Bianchi, thank Giotto) are off at the festival. Actually, that's probably where everyone is, being "busy". Fine. They're allowed. It's Obon, a time for celebration. Of the dead.
Hayato won't--can't--celebrate the dead. He heard of what happened with Romeo, he saw what happened with Spade. A thousand faces he barely remembers are always waiting for him to slip up and think too hard, too long, call them up from the past to wreck havoc in the present. And above them all, behind, in front, looms a black lacquer coffin.
There's a soft noise from below--a muffled, "REBORN!" almost as familiar as the sound of his own name from those same lips--and Hayato sighs, and grins, and returns to scanning the streets carefully.
Tonight the dead walk, and Hayato won't celebrate them.
He has the life of someone much more precious to honour, to protect. From assassins or demons or the risen dead. From the world itself if need be. Even if heaven calls back its lost seraphim, hell calls back its lost prince (and tonight they could, tonight they would).
Tenth will not die again.
the long, twilight struggle
The roof is hardly comfortable, but it has the best vantage point of the area. Tenth's bedroom window is directly below, blinds open and bathing the yard in soft yellow light, illuminating the shadowed grass the setting sun darkens. There's no screaming, no complaints, no laughter, no voices, no noise. Perfectly quiet. Almost serene.
Hibari was up here earlier, Hayato knows. The prefect's patrols through this part of the neighbourhood usually involve leaping from rooftop to rooftop. Maybe for the advantage of distance, line of sight. Probably because of the crowds. (If the rooftops of the shopping center were closer to the ground, Hayato thinks Hibari would use those, too. Instead he just sends Kusakabe.) There's still a few yellow feathers from Hibird--or Hibird-ni, or Hibird-san. How many does Hibari have now? No Hibird-shi, of course.
Hibari is superstitious. Hayato almost wants to laugh, but so is he.
Hayato tries not to crunch the roof tiles as he shifts, gets comfortable, rearranges his weapons for easier access. Reborn is with Tenth down in Tenth's room. They're doing paperwork Ninth sent over with one of his eagles, small things that Tenth needs to know about, things that don't require a Guardian's presence. Baseball Idiot is at his father's restaurant, the others are busy tonight, so Hayato stays back. Someone needs to protect Tenth. Reborn, obviously, but Reborn is still getting used to having a child's body instead of an infant's instead of an adult's. Better not to take a chance, especially not tonight.
Mama and the kids (and Bianchi, thank Giotto) are off at the festival. Actually, that's probably where everyone is, being "busy". Fine. They're allowed. It's Obon, a time for celebration. Of the dead.
Hayato won't--can't--celebrate the dead. He heard of what happened with Romeo, he saw what happened with Spade. A thousand faces he barely remembers are always waiting for him to slip up and think too hard, too long, call them up from the past to wreck havoc in the present. And above them all, behind, in front, looms a black lacquer coffin.
There's a soft noise from below--a muffled, "REBORN!" almost as familiar as the sound of his own name from those same lips--and Hayato sighs, and grins, and returns to scanning the streets carefully.
Tonight the dead walk, and Hayato won't celebrate them.
He has the life of someone much more precious to honour, to protect. From assassins or demons or the risen dead. From the world itself if need be. Even if heaven calls back its lost seraphim, hell calls back its lost prince (and tonight they could, tonight they would).
Tenth will not die again.