Cuddle fest :D
Title: Nicknames
Author: Me.
Rating: G
Genre: Fluff, angst
Characters: Bianchi, Gokudera
Summary: He will always be her little brother.
1.
“Chi!” the little boy yells as he runs into the room. “Chi, where are you?”
Bianchi puts down the book she was reading and slides her legs over the side of the bed. “What is it, Haya-kun?” Outside her window, the moon is high in the sky- really, little Hayato should have been in bed already. He probably escaped from his nanny.
“Chi,” Hayato says excitedly, skidding to a stop in front of her, “Mom’s coming to visit me! Tomorrow!”
“Really, Haya-kun?” She smiles and brushes a stray silver lock out of his face. “That’s great. I wish I could meet her too.”
He nods emphatically. “I wish you could too. She’s a really great person, and she plays the piano really well! I wish I could play like her…”
“You already play really well,” she says encouragingly, patting the bed next to her. He sits obligingly, glass-green eyes watching her alertly. She remembers him coming to her, similarly excited, a few months ago- again before another of his mother’s visit.
That was when he told her to call him ‘Haya-kun’- because it was what his mother called him too. A rare intimacy shared with her- most of the time he was too busy being angry and sulky, always running from his tutors and disdainful of his sister’s quiet but sincere offers of help. Little Hayato had no idea of how much his quiet, solemn sister loved him.
In that way, she supposed, she was too much like her father- too incapable of showing love, even though she loved greatly.
“Would you like to come and meet my mother?” Hayato asks, eagerly, and she smiles regretfully. Her own mother hates the mention of Hayato’s mother- the beautiful, accomplished pianist whom her husband loves more than his legitimate wife. Bianchi is little, but she is the daughter of a mafia lord and his cunning wife. Even at her young age, she has the sharp mind and quick wit of a mature woman.
“I’m going out to lunch with my mother tomorrow, Haya-kun.” A carefully planned excursion by her mother, which would have worked brilliantly had her father not refused to come with them.
Her brother’s face droops in disappointment. “Oh.”
“But-” inspiration strikes suddenly, a way to connect to this mysterious, lovely woman the servants only dare whisper about behind their hands- “I’ll give you something to pass to her, alright? A gift from me.”
“Really?” Hayato’s eyes grow wide with surprise. “I’m sorry you can’t come, Chi, but would you really do that? Mother would be so pleased!”
“Yes.” She rises from the bed, and goes over to her dresser. She knows she really shouldn’t- if her mother finds out, she will be furious- but she can’t help herself. In her dresser are all the little vanities rich mothers give to their little girls- dainty bracelets, sparkling silver chains, pendants of all colours and shapes. She picks up a beautiful jade pendant that, she thinks, would match Hayato’s eyes beautifully.
“How about this, Haya-kun?”
He gapes. “Wow, Chi- isn’t that expensive?”
“Neah,” she shrugs carelessly. She doesn’t care. “Take it.”
“Thank you!” he says joyfully, eyes shining with delight, and he hugs her tight. Bianchi feels a little lump at the back of her throat as she hugs him back tightly, stroking the back of his head.
“Now, Haya-kun, do you want to hear a story?”
He nods excitedly and clambers onto the bed, grinning. She climbs up next to him and they curl together under the blankets, tucked neatly against each other.
When the nanny comes in later, face drawn in disapproval, Bianchi only pulls her sleeping brother closer to her and stares at the woman, lip curled in disdain. The nanny rolls her eyes and leaves, muttering something that sounds like ‘chip off the same block’.
Bianchi just smiles and tucks the blanket securely around both of them as rain begins to knock on her windows.
2.
Bianchi feels a rush of nostalgia as she wraps an arm around Hayato and pulls him closer, his head tucked under her chin. The face mask she hastily donned prevents the silver-haired boy from throwing up, something she’s immensely grateful for- she doesn’t need a sick brother on top of a depressed one.
“M’fine,” he mumbles, hands coming up to curl in front of his chest. She strokes his hair gently, running her hand through the silver strands.
“Yes, Haya-kun.”
“Don’t call me that,” he mumbles again, and she smiles slightly. Still the same Hayato, fifteen years old or not. It’s raining outside, and the heater in her apartment’s off, so she grabs the blanket and wraps it around both of them, cocooning Hayato- her little brother- in the warmth of the knitted cloth and her arms.
They sit there quietly for a while, the pitter-patter of rain thrumming a beat on the window. Bianchi remembers fonder memories of when they were kids and loved cold, frigid nights like these; when they curled up under thick blankets together and counted the glow-in-the-dark-stars painted onto the ceiling. Back then, little Hayato had believed that you could wish on stars in the sky.
“Hayato,” she whispers quietly. “Haya-kun, there’s a star. Make a wish.”
He lifts his head and looks at the lone star shining in the sky through the rain outside her window, and buries his head back into her chest without a word. She understands and simply leans back against the headboard, wrapping her arms securely around her brother.
They’d both been down after learning about their father’s death- especially Hayato. He hadn’t said anything after receiving that letter- but Bianchi had seen it.
She misses her father- of course she does, she loved him too- but people die everyday, and she's grateful he died a peaceful death in his own bed. Death is a part of the Mafia world, and Hayato should have known that already. She just wishes that her father could have made peace with Hayato before he died, because it ate the both of them up for years when that woman died.
Her own mother had died two years prior, from a failed assasination attempt on her father's life. Bianchi hadn't had any tears to spare, standing next to her equally dry-eyed father as they watched the elaborately carved wood casket lowered into the earth.
But that was then, and this was now. Grimly, Bianchi pushed the thoughts out of her head and rested her chin on her brother's head, recalling with a tiny smile how he had adored her before the fiasco with the poison cooking. He loved her then, and she was pretty sure he still did- he just didn't know how to show it. But that was fine with her- she'd dealt with difficult men all her life.
They lie there in her bed, warm and comfortable, and after a while Bianchi feels a little sleepy and dozey and really warm. Hayato’s not moving though, a dead weight in her arms. She shakes him slightly. “Haya-kun?”
No response. Bianchi wonders if he’s fallen asleep. It wouldn’t be a surprise, considering the heaviness behind her eyelids and the warmth-induced sleepiness in her own head.
She’s contemplating just going to sleep herself- even though her back will ache in the morning, sitting like that- when Hayato shifts slightly, dislodging the blankets.
“Hey.”
She looks down at the silver head. “What?”
Bianchi feels a rush of hot love as her brother wraps his arms around her and hugs her back- finally. It’s like salvation, after waiting for years- he loves me too.
“Thanks, Chi.”
A.N.- Okay, first of all, the story might get a little confusing. That's because I'm a bit weird in the head, and I shift between present tense and past tense without realizing it. I really can't help it- so if any parts of the story are too disjointed, please point it out.
Secondly, I don't use a beta. Feel free to point out any mistakes or grammatical errors.
Thirdly, the beginning part of the story is before Bianchi started feeding poison cooking to Gokudera. So I thought they'd get along better (after all, Bianchi does seems pretty affectionate of Gokudera, in her own bizarre way.) But that's just my opinion :) what's yours?
Review, please. Every single review makes me happy. :D