[Fic] Windshear [Part 42/?]
Slightly earlier update, 'cause Dream needs to sleep - uni registrations driving her up the wall - and I have work to finish for tomorrow because the company's getting smaller >_< and manager and boss and people not even involved want to know when the current project's going to be finished *deletes keyboard smashing*
Enjoy~♥
Windshear Part [42/?]
Authors: kagayachou and evocates
Characters/Pairings: Tsuna, Mukuro, Tsuyoshi, Reborn, Hibari, Kusakabe, Yamamoto, Hibird. Yamamoto/Hibari.
Rating: PG-13
Words: 5271
Summary: Tsuna tries to pave their path towards a brighter future, Tsuyoshi finds Reborn with one of his true loves, and the Hibird decides to expand the family.
Outside the door to Mukuro's quarters, Tsuna hesitated, one hand raised and ready to knock. He only had a vague idea of what he wanted to tell the man, and maybe the rest of his... friends, but what he really wanted to do was see how Mukuro was fairing with Byakuran's soul.
It was still hard to believe, and if Tsuna had never met Reborn, he was pretty sure he wouldn't even consider such a thing possible at all, much like time travel and dying will bullets and Mukuro himself.
Then, all of the sudden, the door opened and Mukuro stood in front of him, hair a little dishevelled and streaked with white. He blinked slowly, staring at Tsuna for a moment before his lips curved up into his habitual smile and he leaned down, peering even closer at the young Vongola Tenth.
"Oya?" he tilted his head to the side, and Tsuna thought that his blue eye glinted almost purple in the light of the hallway. "What is Tsunayoshi-kun doing, hanging around outside my door like this?"
"Mukuro..." Tsuna blinked, lowering his hand with a small shrug and a self-depreciative smile. "I wanted to see you," he simply admitted, "if you're not too busy or tired anymore that is."
He glanced behind his male Mist guardian to find the female one asleep on one of the beds, and then lowered his voice so as not to disturb her. Ken and Chikusa probably wouldn’t care after all. "Can I borrow you for a bit?"
Mukuro straightened, the playful grin on his lips widening at the sound of Tsuna's request. A gloved hand reaches up to tap on his lip, and he cocked his head to the side as if he was considering the offer. Of course, there was really no decision to make, but Mukuro liked to tease Tsuna as much as he could.
"Why not?" he stepped out of the room and closed the door carefully so he wouldn't wake Chrome. She was a terribly light sleeper, after all.
Instinctively, Tsuna took as many steps backwards as Mukuro did forward. The distance between them remained comfortable, perhaps just a touch closer than normal, but most of Tsuna's attention went towards the streaks of white in his guardian's hair.
It's not natural, is it? The pace of this change. His fingers twitched and he almost reached out again as he tried to compare what he'd seen of the future with what he saw now.
Mukuro noticed, of course, the aborted movement. He laughed to himself mentally, taking another step forward as he buried his fingers into his own hair, letting the strands run through them as he held his hand out towards Tsuna.
"Do you want to touch it, Tsunayoshi-kun?" he asked, his voice a teasing lilt.
Uh... Tsuna started shaking his head, dragging his eyes back up to Mukuro's face. I already did, in the future, a few minutes ago, he didn't think it would be wise to mention. Although, from the way Mukuro was practically dissecting him with those bi-colored - tri-colored eyes? He wouldn't be too surprised if Mukuro could somehow tell.
Tsuna took another step back and turned away slightly. "It's barely even been a day... Can you tell me what exactly happened, Mukuro?"
Mukuro chuckled at that, shaking his head as he leaned back against the door and crossed his arms. He looked the perfect picture of casualness, with his shoulders completely relaxed.
"What exactly are you talking about?"
At his nonchalant attitude, Tsuna bit his lower lip and looked away briefly. While he was used to Mukuro’s artful guile, it was off-putting that he could act so innocently, as though nothing out of the ordinary happened.
"Yesterday," he looked back at his guardian, "Chrome and I felt it too - when Byakuran said what Ken and Chikusa call your 'control words.' Please don't act like nothing happened to you. It just... makes us worry more."
Mukuro's smile froze on his face for a long moment, his eyes fixed on Tsuna's. His gaze sharpened on the other man, as if he was trying to stare the Vongola Tenth down before he abruptly relaxed, blinking as he leaned further back against the door. His legs crossed at the ankles.
"It's over, Tsunayoshi-kun. Why do you want to know?"
"Well, I should know what to thank you for," he admitted quietly, "and what to apologize for. You've done so much, Mukuro..." And it didn't settle well with Tsuna, the idea that Mukuro could have died without anyone knowing what he did for the Vongola or what happened to him at all.
There was another pause before Mukuro shook his head, laughter spilling out of his lips as he pushed himself away from the door. Turning away from Tsuna, he glanced back at him, beckoning him to walk with him as he strode down the hallway. He reached out and patted the Vongola Tenth on the head as if the other man was a child.
"Don't worry about thanking me, Tsunayoshi-kun," he murmured under his breath. It was true - he was, after all, too much in Tsuna's debt for Tsuna to have to thank him for doing anything to repay it.
But Tsuna didn't see it that way.
"And you almost-" Tsuna's lips thinned. He looked at Mukuro sternly, "You died with him. I was there."
Suddenly, there were so many questions in his head. Like whether Mukuro had planed it that way, had wanted to die with Byakuran, perhaps because he liked that man enough to... but if he did, he wouldn't have betrayed Byakuran's trust, would he? It didn't make sense, and Tsuna couldn't seem to find the words to ask.
Mukuro stopped in his tracks, his back turned to Tsuna. His shoulders were slightly tense, hands curling gently towards themselves.
"I did," he admitted easily, shrugging his shoulders as if they were speaking about the weather rather than his life and death. But there was unease in his posture, in the line of his back, and his eyes were darkened as he faced Tsuna and met his eyes. "Is it so surprising?"
Tsuna didn't know. Or rather, he half expected Mukuro to die by Byakuran's hand anyway long ago; he was mad at himself for never doing anything to prevent it, or take Mukuro away from the man and now...
He shook his head. "Was it... Is it something you wanted? To die. With him?"
"Oh?" Mukuro cocked his head to the side, his eyes gleaming with an unknown light as he faced Tsuna fully. "What do you think, Tsunayoshi-kun?"
The Vongola Tenth stared back at him with eyes shadowed by doubt. "I don't know what to think," he said, voice low and serious. "I thought that you might have liked him." Not enough to die with him, he grimaced. "Or that you might just have wanted to... move on."
"Move on?" Mukuro blinked, surprise coming over his face so completely for a moment that Tsuna had to wonder if he really wasn't acting; that he was truly taken aback by Tsuna's words. "And where would I have moved onto, Tsunayoshi-kun? Death?"
He shook his head, laughing softly under his breath. His hands crossed at his abdomen as his laughter increased, and he bent over slightly, holding his stomach in his amusement. Tsuna still never failed to amuse him - really, how could a man remain this pure and innocent after ten years in the mafia?
"Or perhaps the next life?"
For a moment, Tsuna's eyes dulled. Watching Mukuro work, with his mastery of misdirection, was always an amazing sight. There was a time when he had been terribly easy to fool, of course, but he wasn't that naive anymore.
Still, if Mukuro didn't want to admit it, Tsuna didn't see the point in forcing the issue. Instead, he decided to draw the conversation away from where Mukuro seemed to be steering it.
"You do like him," he said softly as he looked away. Not enough to prevent Mukuro from working towards Byakuran's death, he granted, but the feeling's there.
Mukuro knew then, immediately, that Tsuna knew. That the cursed Vongola Hyper Intuition had worked against his favour again, lying him out in the open for Tsuna to scrutinize and pick apart again. This was why it was so terribly difficult to hide his intentions, but Mukuro enjoyed the challenge anyway.
He smiled, the usual teasing curve still evident on his lips as he unfolded his arms, letting them drop back to his sides. "Like him? Tsunayoshi-kun might be right," he chuckled under his breath, truly amused. He had liked Byakuran, but it was the sort of affection a predator might have for an intruder into his territory - the meeting between two opposing equals, similar to get along but too different to live together.
"Is there a problem?"
"No. Not really." When Tsuna looked back at him, there was a small, reassuring smile on the young don's face. "Reborn shot me into the future just now," he allowed himself a brief chuckle. "You were there. You were... all right."
"Oh?" there was a distinctly bemused light in Mukuro's eyes now. He took a step forward, leaning down so that he was directly meeting Tsuna's eyes. "So what are you worried about, hmm?"
"Well... it's great to see that you'd be okay in ten years, but how you are now is more important, isn't it?" Tsuna answered matter-of-factly, wilfully oblivious to how close Mukuro was getting once more. "How are you feeling now? Honestly."
Since Tsuna wasn't stopping him, Mukuro stepped even closer, leaning in such that his breath intermingled with Tsuna's. "What sort of answer are you looking for, Tsunayoshi-kun?" he asked teasingly, his eyes - one red, one violet - glinting with amusement. "Do you wish for me to spill out everything about how Byakuran has been torturing me all along?"
Tsuna's eyes widened at first. From what he knew of Byakuran, both from the alternative future and the recent past, the man was likely to torture people, but mostly on the psychological level. Tsuna knew this, but when he was faced with the possibility of Byakuran doing so to Mukuro of all people, it was still a difficult idea on its own.
"Yes, if you want to talk about it. I had... hoped," Tsuna paused. It had been a gradual growing feeling, but Mukuro was moving closer to him. Which was what he wanted. Except, it was starting to feel a little too close. "I had hoped that Byakuran might have liked Mukuro enough not to hurt him," he found himself saying, as though he wasn't speaking to Mukuro himself.
"Then maybe Tsunayoshi-kun had hoped wrongly," the man who was looming over him said, his voice singsong as his smile widened. His hand reached down and patted Tsuna's cheek gently, as if the other man was a child, before he pulled away, standing a respectable distance away. "Or maybe he had hoped correctly."
He cocked his head to the side again, eyes shadowed by his fringe. "Which one do you think it is?"
Wryly, Tsuna laughed, stepping back slightly, continuing down the corridor towards the empty balcony at the very end. "Fine then, don't tell me."
Chrome, Tsuna thought. Chrome would understand Mukuro far better.
"Maa..." Mukuro followed him, trailing a few steps behind. He walked a little strangely -- almost gliding but with heavy steps when his feet touched the ground. "You do give up far too easily."
"I'm not giving up," Tsuna smiled, not breaking his pace as he glanced over his shoulder. "Sooner or later, you'll tell me."
***
It was late afternoon, almost evening when Tsuyoshi followed the scent of fresh coffee down towards the makeshift kitchen once more. Along the way, a young Chinese girl in a vaguely familiar delivery uniform ran past, mumbling something about being late. Tsuyoshi blinked. He couldn't seem to place her at that very moment, but the thought fled his mind when he stepped into the kitchen.
There, he found Reborn lounging almost lazily on a regal, velvet couch, feet propped up on the coffee table in front of it and a steaming mug in his hand.
While Reborn almost always seemed to be smirking, there was a slight crinkle at the outer edges of his eyes that tipped Tsuyoshi off.
"You seem awfully happy about a new coffee machine," he grinned.
Reborn turned around and nodded to him, smile not dimming a single watt even as he reached forward, putting the mug down on the table. Tsuyoshi's eyes followed his movements, eyes widened when he noticed the ashtray that had no cigarettes in them - only a pile of black ashes, still emitting curling smoke.
Tsuyoshi's eyes glinted slightly, but Reborn ignored the look cast his way. He folded his hands together on his lap, shrugging slightly. "It was good coffee," he said simply, lips quirked upwards all the same.
With a hearty laugh, and another look towards the ashtray, Tsuyoshi asked, "That what you call it nowadays?" But he didn't really expect a straight answer, so he walked around and retrieved a glass of water before settling into the adjacent couch.
"...Still the same one, is it?"
"Perhaps," Reborn replied, shrugging again as he leaned back against the seat. The velvet was so soft that it bent immediately at his weight, curving around his back until it seemed that he was disappearing into the dark depths of the sofa. His smile widened as he glanced at the burnt piece of paper.
"I heard you're going to fight Hibari," he got to the point immediately, eyes sharpening upon his old acquaintance.
It was through many years of experience that Tsuyoshi stopped drinking his water when Reborn spoke. It saved him from choking on many an occasion before, and this time it was no different.
"That was fast," he commented before he raised his glass. After a moment, he nodded, "Well, he wants a fight." Tilting his head slightly, he grinned. "And here Hibari seemed so sure that you didn't have any secret passages and whatnot in the garden."
Reborn merely cocked an eyebrow at him, as if to say, did you expect anything less? He chuckled lightly at Tsuyoshi's words, shaking his head. "I didn't," he said, completely truthful for once. He picked up his mug of coffee and took a sip of the thick, strong brew, the brim of his fedora casting shadows over his eyes.
"A little monkey told me about it."
"A monkey?" Tsuyoshi stared. Not a little bird like the one his son and that Hibari seemed fond of, or a cow - no, that would have been even more obvious. Of course Reborn would tell him without telling him. He chuckled and shook his head. "I suppose then that you know we're going to have that fight in three days?"
Or if he didn't... well, he knew now.
"Of course," Reborn snorted immediately, taking a longer sip of his coffee and lidding his eyes, He let the silence spread out between them, heavy and tense. As always, he looked completely composed, as if nothing could ruffle him. He put his mug down, and his smirk widen.
He turned to look Tsuyoshi in the eyes again. "Are you going to go all out?"
"Heck yes!" Tsuyoshi grinned. "Anything less would reflect badly on the family," he asserted firmly, before leaning back against the couch. "Hibari Kyouya hasn't done anything to my son for me to insult him now, has he?"
"Of course not," Reborn's lips quirked up even more into a smile. "Do you distrust your son's taste?"
"Well, I do wonder about his tastes sometimes," the father admitted, eyes going distant as a smoking, scowling seemingly bi-polar time bomb came to mind.
Crossing his legs, Reborn looked like the perfect example of a Mafioso hitman or even a don as he sipped his coffee slowly, watching Tsuyoshi over the rim.
"The invincible Hibari Kyouya and the invincible sword style, Shigure Souen Ryuu... which one will win, I wonder?" he murmured, as if to himself, almost too low to be heard.
***
Another spin. Hibari slammed the tonfa against a simulated, faceless enemy, feeling bones crack beneath the metal even as he sent it flying into one of its 'comrades', knocking the both of them out. He strode over immediately, pulling his leg back and kicking the second one in the throat, collapsing the windpipe and killing the simulation.
He scanned the room - every single simulation thrown at him so far had been defeated. The floor was littered with 'bodies' that were slowly fading away. Hibari snorted to himself, turning his eyes up and signalling to Kusakabe that he had enough.
Fighting these puppets was no challenge at all.
But it couldn't be helped: Yamamoto Takeshi was training with his father, Sawada Tsunayoshi was busy being a complete herbivore and Reborn was a law unto himself. Hibari had no interest in the hitman indulging in him - he would rather wait and fight him one day at full strength.
A minute after the simulations all disappeared, Kusakabe opened the door and stepped inside with a towel on his arm. He presented it to Hibari without a word. They never found too much need for words.
Hibari took the towel, rubbing the heavy cloth across the face and skin. Even though the training was far less rigorous than what he was used to, he was still sweating slightly.
"Tetsu," he handed the towel back. "I'm going back."
"Yes, Kyou-san," Kusakabe folded the towel back over his arm and stepped backwards out of the dojo-like training room. After Hibari walked past, his right hand man made a silent turn and followed.
Hibird was already waiting in Hibari's room.
"Mii~ dori tanabiku~" the moment Hibari opened the door to his room, the bird fluttered up from the windowsill and headed straight for its master, settling down on top of his head. It fluffed up its feathers, making itself comfortable in the makeshift nest of hair and continued singing the Namimori school song.
Hibari continued walking as if he didn't notice the bird on his head. But his movements had changed minutely - his steps slowed, and his head stopped moving entirely so he would not jar Hibird. He glanced at Tetsu, who was still standing at the door with a blank, stoic face.
"When will Yamamoto Takeshi be finished?"
Kusakabe barely nodded to himself, gaze flickering towards his watch. Without missing a beat, he answered, "Another hour and a half, Kyou-san." Technically, training would be over soon, but he was considering that the Yamamotos had a lot to catch up on in terms of bonding time.
Meanwhile, Hibird paused to attack a stray piece of hair that wouldn't sit right before starting on a different tune.
"White ball, wristband, new spike~" Hibari narrowed his eyes, head snapping to the side and stare at the small piece of yellow fluff as it fluttered around the room. That song sounded terribly familiar and completely nonsensical.
Hibari shook his head, lifting a finger for the bird to land on. "Who taught you that?"
"Yamamoto Takeshi," Hibird sang back matter-of-factly, little black eyes wide and innocent as it stared at Hibari. Then the bird tilted its head, almost as if it expected the human to like it.
Immediately, Hibari narrowed his eyes, staring at the bird. He knew that Hibird most likely meant that Yamamoto had sang the song in its presence and it had picked it up like it always had, yet... there was something twinging inside his chest, a strange and foreign feeling that he ignored.
"How ridiculous."
Hibird hopped off his finger and continued on, singing about club activities and home runs and it wasn't a song, Hibari decided; it was a list.
"My old man's sushi, milk from Namimori, lunch boxes eaten with my friends~"
Kusakabe was hard pressed to keep a smile from stretching over his lips as the yellow fluff ball performed.
Glancing at his right hand man, Hibari felt a sharp spike of irritation go through him at the site of the openly amused smile on Kusakabe's lips. It reminded him somewhat of Yamamoto's wide grins, far too open and almost idiotic.
But he didn't try to shut Hibird up, or ordered it to sing another song. No - Hibari only lidded his eyes and crossed his arms, obviously listening to it.
After the last "all of these are my favourite things~" - the phrase repeated far too many times not to become the name of the 'song' - Hibird tilted its head at Hibari expectantly, finally falling silent.
Hibari stared at it with impassive eyes, but he knew that the bird would not be fazed by it. He shook his head, letting his arms drop back to his side as he strode back to the couch and sinking into it, tilting his head back to look Hibird in the eyes.
"Stop singing it."
Because Hibird had already stopped singing right then, the message was clear: Hibari didn't want to hear the bird singing it ever again.
Kusakabe wondered briefly, with some semblance of a morbid curiosity, what might happen if Hibari Kyouya ever heard Yamamoto Takeshi singing it instead.
Meanwhile, Hibird hopped around on the tatami mat, turning its back towards them. It hopped a few more times, deliberately away from Hibari, then flew up to the window sill, looking back once, like it wanted to say something.
Idiot? Kusakabe could almost hear it.
But Hibird didn't say anything, simply turning around again to fly off.
Hibari watched it leave with impassive eyes before shaking his head, turning to Kusakabe. "Inform Yamamoto Takeshi to come to my rooms when he is finished," he ordered.
Kusakabe quickly drew his wide-eyed stare from the bird, blinking dazedly as he nodded back at Hibari. "Yes, Kyou-san." He excused himself without further adieu, not sure what to make of the little exchange he'd seen.
***
It had been some time since Tsuyoshi had picked up his sword and went against someone with his full killing intent. He might have still practiced daily - for the sake of keeping his sword sharp and his mind clear, if nothing else - but to be fighting a living, breathing human being rather than a straw puppet was rare.
Much less fighting his own son.
"I'm not going to go easy on you, Takeshi!" he called to the other man on the opposite side of the studio, an easy smile on his own lips. "So don't go easy on your old man."
"Haha, love you too, dad~" Yamamoto grinned before a formal nod turned his expression serious. He had enough time to recover from being poisoned and overworked, so that he could fight in top form once more - or train, at least. He'd missed a few days’ training as it was, which only convinced Tsuna he wasn't ready for missions yet. But that was all right. He had time for his father. He hadn't had time for his father for years...
Hibird flew into the dojo-styled training room. It circled over their heads, singing its hellos, before landing on Yamamoto's shoulder.
"Hello~" Yamamoto responded softly, careful so as not to speak too loud with the bird so near.
Tsuyoshi watched as the bird fluttered in and settled so comfortable on his son's shoulder. He smiled slightly, shaking his head to himself at the blatant reminder of Hibari Kyouya - it almost seemed as if the bird was sent by the man, staking his claim on Tsuyoshi's own son, and Yamamoto didn't seem to be at all aware of it.
"Concentrate, Takeshi," he admonished lightly, raising the katana in his hand and shifting into his starting position. He wasn't jealous or possessive - not in the least, not when he knew how happy his son was with Hibari Kyouya - but he had to wonder... was Yamamoto even aware of this?
Knowing his son, he probably wasn't aware of a single thing.
Yamamoto gently coaxed the bird onto his finger and then nudged it to fly. "It's our last round of the day," he explained. "You can watch though, if you'd like."
Hibird hopped along his finger until it couldn't anymore, bobbing it's head - nodding - and spread its wings. As the bird flew back towards the entrance, Yamamoto blinked back towards his father, took a deep breath, and lifted his sword to waist level, the tip of his sword pointing at his opponent's throat.
Tsuyoshi smirked to himself darkly, his eyes automatically cataloguing all of Yamamoto's weaknesses and blind spots by instinct. His foot shifted backward, scraping against the ground, before he jumped in, katana flashing under the low lights as he struck at Yamamoto's abdomen.
Yamamoto met him, metal against metal, and much less intimidated by his father's battle aura than he had been when the man first started training him.
It was still impressive, reassuring the Vongola guardian as he sidestepped that his opponent would have no trouble ducking out of an otherwise fatal slash to his side.
Tsuyoshi predicted the slash the moment he saw Yamamoto's arm move, sidestepping and ducking underneath his son's blade. Immediately, he flipped his own katana over, the blunted side slamming towards Yamamoto's legs, even as he darted forward, a hand extended.
Even in a duel between swordsmen, one shouldn't be as stupid to use only the sword. Especially when they meant to kill. Tsunayoshi aimed a punch towards his son's stomach even as he prepared to cut off his son's legs, or sweep them out at least.
Yamamoto's eyes widened slightly, but he didn't hesitate, throwing his sword in the air, he caught the older man's fist and twisted out of the way, flipping backwards to catch his sword as it fell. As soon as his fingers curled around the handle, he rushed his father again.
But that move was one that Tsuyoshi had taught the younger man himself. He darted out of the way instinctively, feeling the air hiss as the blade cut a line through it. For a moment, Tsuyoshi took proud note of the way that Yamamoto had slashed at him - his posture and the strength behind the blade was all commendable. If Tsuyoshi had not moved, he would have been gutted.
His admiration, of course, was not a reason for him to slack off. Tsuyoshi turned his blade around, changing the angle at this time he extended his arm, lashing out to cut through Yamamoto's throat.
Under Hibird's watchful eyes, they stopped just short of truly wounding each other - stalemate - both blades but a hair from each other's throat.
With cautious, shallow breath, Yamamoto looked into his father's eyes, searching his facial expression, his body language to judge his next move.
The tension was a thread balancing on the blade of the knife.
And Tsuyoshi broke it with a laugh and a smile, willingly lowering his sword as he stepped backwards. He turned away, as was customary, and sheathed his sword with a clear shikh that rang through the air.
"You've gotten better, Takeshi," he acknowledged, smiling. He knew that if his son had any inkling of the killing intent that Tsuyoshi himself was carrying, he would have lost. Yamamoto was fighting with the handicap of not wishing to hurt Tsuyoshi, yet...
Yet for most of their training, he had fought his father into a draw. 'Improved' was the least of the words Tsuyoshi could use after feeling the cold steel of his son's sword directly at his throat.
"Thanks, old man," Yamamoto grinned as he re-sheathed his katana. With his father's back turned to him, he breathed a silent sigh of relief. Fighting against his father ran counter to everything he'd ever wanted to do with the man, but he'd done it. He'd dealt with the killing intent his own father directed at him for three consecutive days without experiencing some sort of a quarter-life crisis. Score~ "I've had the best teachers."
Throwing his head back and laughing, Tsuyoshi reached out and smacked his son across the back of his head, smirking slightly as he narrowed his eyes. "Stop flattering your old man," he admonished half-jokingly. "His heart cannot take it."
"'s not flattery," his son laughed as he spoke, "Just the truth." He held a hand out and made to count, finger by finger. "I've been trained by you and the kiddo and Squalo!" The last heir of the Shigure Souen Ryuu. The best hitman in the world. The second Sword Emperor, who took that name when he defeated the first.
"Can your heart take it now?" Yamamoto asked with a teasing sparkle in his eyes.
"So you've been keeping score, huh?" Tsuyoshi raised his eyebrows, perfectly aware of how accomplished that list was. Squalo and Reborn aside, Tsuyoshi himself had been a famous assassin in his prime; a swordsman infamous for his invincible style and his unshakeable confidence in his own skill.
It was, after all, the reason why he knew Reborn; why Reborn had sought Yamamoto out as the Vongola's Rain. Reborn had known perfectly well what Tsuyoshi was capable of; what Tsuyoshi was the heir of.
"Of course!" Yamamoto grinned. He turned back towards the entrance, collecting two bottles of water and loosening one of the caps before holding out to his old man. Hibird flew up and about beside him, settling upon his shoulder again when he stopped. "Hey, you~" he greeted it cheerfully once more. "What are you doing here?"
Before the bird could even say a thing, Tsuyoshi was laughing again, his gaze incredulous as he stared at his son playing with the yellow fluff. He knew that it was Hibari's pet - he had seen it around the other man enough to be sure - but the way his son was speaking to it...
"Haha, Takeshi, you don't think it can answer you, can you?"
Yamamoto blinked at his dad, then looked towards Hibird with a conspiring grin. He held a hand up for the bird so that it would hop onto his finger.
"This is my old man," he explained, then turned his attention back towards his father. "Go on. Ask him something."
"Hello, my old man," the bird gaze at him unblinkingly.
Both of the Yamamotos stared at it for a long moment. Tsuyoshi's mouth fell open, and he gaped at it for a long moment before he threw his head back, palm slapping against his forehead as he laughed out loud, shoulders shaking in sheer mirth.
"Why," he managed to say, the words mangled from his laughter. "I've never thought I would have another son like this!"
Hibird made a curious noise as Yamamoto's hand shook a little, and flew up before its perch became unstable.
"Another... That's... my... cute little brother!"
Before long, Yamamoto laughed so hard he had to wipe tears from his eyes. "Oh, wao..." Even his own response drew a laugh while he was trying to stop.
Hibird just looked from one man to another, wondering if they were being idiots like Hibari.
Tsuyoshi bent over, still laughing as he watched the bird flutter around the room. It might just be his imagination, but he thought he saw a look in those beady black eyes that plainly said, "all of you humans are idiots," and it just made him laugh even harder.
Back: Part 41
Next: Part 43
Enjoy~♥
Windshear Part [42/?]
Authors: kagayachou and evocates
Characters/Pairings: Tsuna, Mukuro, Tsuyoshi, Reborn, Hibari, Kusakabe, Yamamoto, Hibird. Yamamoto/Hibari.
Rating: PG-13
Words: 5271
Summary: Tsuna tries to pave their path towards a brighter future, Tsuyoshi finds Reborn with one of his true loves, and the Hibird decides to expand the family.
Outside the door to Mukuro's quarters, Tsuna hesitated, one hand raised and ready to knock. He only had a vague idea of what he wanted to tell the man, and maybe the rest of his... friends, but what he really wanted to do was see how Mukuro was fairing with Byakuran's soul.
It was still hard to believe, and if Tsuna had never met Reborn, he was pretty sure he wouldn't even consider such a thing possible at all, much like time travel and dying will bullets and Mukuro himself.
Then, all of the sudden, the door opened and Mukuro stood in front of him, hair a little dishevelled and streaked with white. He blinked slowly, staring at Tsuna for a moment before his lips curved up into his habitual smile and he leaned down, peering even closer at the young Vongola Tenth.
"Oya?" he tilted his head to the side, and Tsuna thought that his blue eye glinted almost purple in the light of the hallway. "What is Tsunayoshi-kun doing, hanging around outside my door like this?"
"Mukuro..." Tsuna blinked, lowering his hand with a small shrug and a self-depreciative smile. "I wanted to see you," he simply admitted, "if you're not too busy or tired anymore that is."
He glanced behind his male Mist guardian to find the female one asleep on one of the beds, and then lowered his voice so as not to disturb her. Ken and Chikusa probably wouldn’t care after all. "Can I borrow you for a bit?"
Mukuro straightened, the playful grin on his lips widening at the sound of Tsuna's request. A gloved hand reaches up to tap on his lip, and he cocked his head to the side as if he was considering the offer. Of course, there was really no decision to make, but Mukuro liked to tease Tsuna as much as he could.
"Why not?" he stepped out of the room and closed the door carefully so he wouldn't wake Chrome. She was a terribly light sleeper, after all.
Instinctively, Tsuna took as many steps backwards as Mukuro did forward. The distance between them remained comfortable, perhaps just a touch closer than normal, but most of Tsuna's attention went towards the streaks of white in his guardian's hair.
It's not natural, is it? The pace of this change. His fingers twitched and he almost reached out again as he tried to compare what he'd seen of the future with what he saw now.
Mukuro noticed, of course, the aborted movement. He laughed to himself mentally, taking another step forward as he buried his fingers into his own hair, letting the strands run through them as he held his hand out towards Tsuna.
"Do you want to touch it, Tsunayoshi-kun?" he asked, his voice a teasing lilt.
Uh... Tsuna started shaking his head, dragging his eyes back up to Mukuro's face. I already did, in the future, a few minutes ago, he didn't think it would be wise to mention. Although, from the way Mukuro was practically dissecting him with those bi-colored - tri-colored eyes? He wouldn't be too surprised if Mukuro could somehow tell.
Tsuna took another step back and turned away slightly. "It's barely even been a day... Can you tell me what exactly happened, Mukuro?"
Mukuro chuckled at that, shaking his head as he leaned back against the door and crossed his arms. He looked the perfect picture of casualness, with his shoulders completely relaxed.
"What exactly are you talking about?"
At his nonchalant attitude, Tsuna bit his lower lip and looked away briefly. While he was used to Mukuro’s artful guile, it was off-putting that he could act so innocently, as though nothing out of the ordinary happened.
"Yesterday," he looked back at his guardian, "Chrome and I felt it too - when Byakuran said what Ken and Chikusa call your 'control words.' Please don't act like nothing happened to you. It just... makes us worry more."
Mukuro's smile froze on his face for a long moment, his eyes fixed on Tsuna's. His gaze sharpened on the other man, as if he was trying to stare the Vongola Tenth down before he abruptly relaxed, blinking as he leaned further back against the door. His legs crossed at the ankles.
"It's over, Tsunayoshi-kun. Why do you want to know?"
"Well, I should know what to thank you for," he admitted quietly, "and what to apologize for. You've done so much, Mukuro..." And it didn't settle well with Tsuna, the idea that Mukuro could have died without anyone knowing what he did for the Vongola or what happened to him at all.
There was another pause before Mukuro shook his head, laughter spilling out of his lips as he pushed himself away from the door. Turning away from Tsuna, he glanced back at him, beckoning him to walk with him as he strode down the hallway. He reached out and patted the Vongola Tenth on the head as if the other man was a child.
"Don't worry about thanking me, Tsunayoshi-kun," he murmured under his breath. It was true - he was, after all, too much in Tsuna's debt for Tsuna to have to thank him for doing anything to repay it.
But Tsuna didn't see it that way.
"And you almost-" Tsuna's lips thinned. He looked at Mukuro sternly, "You died with him. I was there."
Suddenly, there were so many questions in his head. Like whether Mukuro had planed it that way, had wanted to die with Byakuran, perhaps because he liked that man enough to... but if he did, he wouldn't have betrayed Byakuran's trust, would he? It didn't make sense, and Tsuna couldn't seem to find the words to ask.
Mukuro stopped in his tracks, his back turned to Tsuna. His shoulders were slightly tense, hands curling gently towards themselves.
"I did," he admitted easily, shrugging his shoulders as if they were speaking about the weather rather than his life and death. But there was unease in his posture, in the line of his back, and his eyes were darkened as he faced Tsuna and met his eyes. "Is it so surprising?"
Tsuna didn't know. Or rather, he half expected Mukuro to die by Byakuran's hand anyway long ago; he was mad at himself for never doing anything to prevent it, or take Mukuro away from the man and now...
He shook his head. "Was it... Is it something you wanted? To die. With him?"
"Oh?" Mukuro cocked his head to the side, his eyes gleaming with an unknown light as he faced Tsuna fully. "What do you think, Tsunayoshi-kun?"
The Vongola Tenth stared back at him with eyes shadowed by doubt. "I don't know what to think," he said, voice low and serious. "I thought that you might have liked him." Not enough to die with him, he grimaced. "Or that you might just have wanted to... move on."
"Move on?" Mukuro blinked, surprise coming over his face so completely for a moment that Tsuna had to wonder if he really wasn't acting; that he was truly taken aback by Tsuna's words. "And where would I have moved onto, Tsunayoshi-kun? Death?"
He shook his head, laughing softly under his breath. His hands crossed at his abdomen as his laughter increased, and he bent over slightly, holding his stomach in his amusement. Tsuna still never failed to amuse him - really, how could a man remain this pure and innocent after ten years in the mafia?
"Or perhaps the next life?"
For a moment, Tsuna's eyes dulled. Watching Mukuro work, with his mastery of misdirection, was always an amazing sight. There was a time when he had been terribly easy to fool, of course, but he wasn't that naive anymore.
Still, if Mukuro didn't want to admit it, Tsuna didn't see the point in forcing the issue. Instead, he decided to draw the conversation away from where Mukuro seemed to be steering it.
"You do like him," he said softly as he looked away. Not enough to prevent Mukuro from working towards Byakuran's death, he granted, but the feeling's there.
Mukuro knew then, immediately, that Tsuna knew. That the cursed Vongola Hyper Intuition had worked against his favour again, lying him out in the open for Tsuna to scrutinize and pick apart again. This was why it was so terribly difficult to hide his intentions, but Mukuro enjoyed the challenge anyway.
He smiled, the usual teasing curve still evident on his lips as he unfolded his arms, letting them drop back to his sides. "Like him? Tsunayoshi-kun might be right," he chuckled under his breath, truly amused. He had liked Byakuran, but it was the sort of affection a predator might have for an intruder into his territory - the meeting between two opposing equals, similar to get along but too different to live together.
"Is there a problem?"
"No. Not really." When Tsuna looked back at him, there was a small, reassuring smile on the young don's face. "Reborn shot me into the future just now," he allowed himself a brief chuckle. "You were there. You were... all right."
"Oh?" there was a distinctly bemused light in Mukuro's eyes now. He took a step forward, leaning down so that he was directly meeting Tsuna's eyes. "So what are you worried about, hmm?"
"Well... it's great to see that you'd be okay in ten years, but how you are now is more important, isn't it?" Tsuna answered matter-of-factly, wilfully oblivious to how close Mukuro was getting once more. "How are you feeling now? Honestly."
Since Tsuna wasn't stopping him, Mukuro stepped even closer, leaning in such that his breath intermingled with Tsuna's. "What sort of answer are you looking for, Tsunayoshi-kun?" he asked teasingly, his eyes - one red, one violet - glinting with amusement. "Do you wish for me to spill out everything about how Byakuran has been torturing me all along?"
Tsuna's eyes widened at first. From what he knew of Byakuran, both from the alternative future and the recent past, the man was likely to torture people, but mostly on the psychological level. Tsuna knew this, but when he was faced with the possibility of Byakuran doing so to Mukuro of all people, it was still a difficult idea on its own.
"Yes, if you want to talk about it. I had... hoped," Tsuna paused. It had been a gradual growing feeling, but Mukuro was moving closer to him. Which was what he wanted. Except, it was starting to feel a little too close. "I had hoped that Byakuran might have liked Mukuro enough not to hurt him," he found himself saying, as though he wasn't speaking to Mukuro himself.
"Then maybe Tsunayoshi-kun had hoped wrongly," the man who was looming over him said, his voice singsong as his smile widened. His hand reached down and patted Tsuna's cheek gently, as if the other man was a child, before he pulled away, standing a respectable distance away. "Or maybe he had hoped correctly."
He cocked his head to the side again, eyes shadowed by his fringe. "Which one do you think it is?"
Wryly, Tsuna laughed, stepping back slightly, continuing down the corridor towards the empty balcony at the very end. "Fine then, don't tell me."
Chrome, Tsuna thought. Chrome would understand Mukuro far better.
"Maa..." Mukuro followed him, trailing a few steps behind. He walked a little strangely -- almost gliding but with heavy steps when his feet touched the ground. "You do give up far too easily."
"I'm not giving up," Tsuna smiled, not breaking his pace as he glanced over his shoulder. "Sooner or later, you'll tell me."
***
It was late afternoon, almost evening when Tsuyoshi followed the scent of fresh coffee down towards the makeshift kitchen once more. Along the way, a young Chinese girl in a vaguely familiar delivery uniform ran past, mumbling something about being late. Tsuyoshi blinked. He couldn't seem to place her at that very moment, but the thought fled his mind when he stepped into the kitchen.
There, he found Reborn lounging almost lazily on a regal, velvet couch, feet propped up on the coffee table in front of it and a steaming mug in his hand.
While Reborn almost always seemed to be smirking, there was a slight crinkle at the outer edges of his eyes that tipped Tsuyoshi off.
"You seem awfully happy about a new coffee machine," he grinned.
Reborn turned around and nodded to him, smile not dimming a single watt even as he reached forward, putting the mug down on the table. Tsuyoshi's eyes followed his movements, eyes widened when he noticed the ashtray that had no cigarettes in them - only a pile of black ashes, still emitting curling smoke.
Tsuyoshi's eyes glinted slightly, but Reborn ignored the look cast his way. He folded his hands together on his lap, shrugging slightly. "It was good coffee," he said simply, lips quirked upwards all the same.
With a hearty laugh, and another look towards the ashtray, Tsuyoshi asked, "That what you call it nowadays?" But he didn't really expect a straight answer, so he walked around and retrieved a glass of water before settling into the adjacent couch.
"...Still the same one, is it?"
"Perhaps," Reborn replied, shrugging again as he leaned back against the seat. The velvet was so soft that it bent immediately at his weight, curving around his back until it seemed that he was disappearing into the dark depths of the sofa. His smile widened as he glanced at the burnt piece of paper.
"I heard you're going to fight Hibari," he got to the point immediately, eyes sharpening upon his old acquaintance.
It was through many years of experience that Tsuyoshi stopped drinking his water when Reborn spoke. It saved him from choking on many an occasion before, and this time it was no different.
"That was fast," he commented before he raised his glass. After a moment, he nodded, "Well, he wants a fight." Tilting his head slightly, he grinned. "And here Hibari seemed so sure that you didn't have any secret passages and whatnot in the garden."
Reborn merely cocked an eyebrow at him, as if to say, did you expect anything less? He chuckled lightly at Tsuyoshi's words, shaking his head. "I didn't," he said, completely truthful for once. He picked up his mug of coffee and took a sip of the thick, strong brew, the brim of his fedora casting shadows over his eyes.
"A little monkey told me about it."
"A monkey?" Tsuyoshi stared. Not a little bird like the one his son and that Hibari seemed fond of, or a cow - no, that would have been even more obvious. Of course Reborn would tell him without telling him. He chuckled and shook his head. "I suppose then that you know we're going to have that fight in three days?"
Or if he didn't... well, he knew now.
"Of course," Reborn snorted immediately, taking a longer sip of his coffee and lidding his eyes, He let the silence spread out between them, heavy and tense. As always, he looked completely composed, as if nothing could ruffle him. He put his mug down, and his smirk widen.
He turned to look Tsuyoshi in the eyes again. "Are you going to go all out?"
"Heck yes!" Tsuyoshi grinned. "Anything less would reflect badly on the family," he asserted firmly, before leaning back against the couch. "Hibari Kyouya hasn't done anything to my son for me to insult him now, has he?"
"Of course not," Reborn's lips quirked up even more into a smile. "Do you distrust your son's taste?"
"Well, I do wonder about his tastes sometimes," the father admitted, eyes going distant as a smoking, scowling seemingly bi-polar time bomb came to mind.
Crossing his legs, Reborn looked like the perfect example of a Mafioso hitman or even a don as he sipped his coffee slowly, watching Tsuyoshi over the rim.
"The invincible Hibari Kyouya and the invincible sword style, Shigure Souen Ryuu... which one will win, I wonder?" he murmured, as if to himself, almost too low to be heard.
***
Another spin. Hibari slammed the tonfa against a simulated, faceless enemy, feeling bones crack beneath the metal even as he sent it flying into one of its 'comrades', knocking the both of them out. He strode over immediately, pulling his leg back and kicking the second one in the throat, collapsing the windpipe and killing the simulation.
He scanned the room - every single simulation thrown at him so far had been defeated. The floor was littered with 'bodies' that were slowly fading away. Hibari snorted to himself, turning his eyes up and signalling to Kusakabe that he had enough.
Fighting these puppets was no challenge at all.
But it couldn't be helped: Yamamoto Takeshi was training with his father, Sawada Tsunayoshi was busy being a complete herbivore and Reborn was a law unto himself. Hibari had no interest in the hitman indulging in him - he would rather wait and fight him one day at full strength.
A minute after the simulations all disappeared, Kusakabe opened the door and stepped inside with a towel on his arm. He presented it to Hibari without a word. They never found too much need for words.
Hibari took the towel, rubbing the heavy cloth across the face and skin. Even though the training was far less rigorous than what he was used to, he was still sweating slightly.
"Tetsu," he handed the towel back. "I'm going back."
"Yes, Kyou-san," Kusakabe folded the towel back over his arm and stepped backwards out of the dojo-like training room. After Hibari walked past, his right hand man made a silent turn and followed.
Hibird was already waiting in Hibari's room.
"Mii~ dori tanabiku~" the moment Hibari opened the door to his room, the bird fluttered up from the windowsill and headed straight for its master, settling down on top of his head. It fluffed up its feathers, making itself comfortable in the makeshift nest of hair and continued singing the Namimori school song.
Hibari continued walking as if he didn't notice the bird on his head. But his movements had changed minutely - his steps slowed, and his head stopped moving entirely so he would not jar Hibird. He glanced at Tetsu, who was still standing at the door with a blank, stoic face.
"When will Yamamoto Takeshi be finished?"
Kusakabe barely nodded to himself, gaze flickering towards his watch. Without missing a beat, he answered, "Another hour and a half, Kyou-san." Technically, training would be over soon, but he was considering that the Yamamotos had a lot to catch up on in terms of bonding time.
Meanwhile, Hibird paused to attack a stray piece of hair that wouldn't sit right before starting on a different tune.
"White ball, wristband, new spike~" Hibari narrowed his eyes, head snapping to the side and stare at the small piece of yellow fluff as it fluttered around the room. That song sounded terribly familiar and completely nonsensical.
Hibari shook his head, lifting a finger for the bird to land on. "Who taught you that?"
"Yamamoto Takeshi," Hibird sang back matter-of-factly, little black eyes wide and innocent as it stared at Hibari. Then the bird tilted its head, almost as if it expected the human to like it.
Immediately, Hibari narrowed his eyes, staring at the bird. He knew that Hibird most likely meant that Yamamoto had sang the song in its presence and it had picked it up like it always had, yet... there was something twinging inside his chest, a strange and foreign feeling that he ignored.
"How ridiculous."
Hibird hopped off his finger and continued on, singing about club activities and home runs and it wasn't a song, Hibari decided; it was a list.
"My old man's sushi, milk from Namimori, lunch boxes eaten with my friends~"
Kusakabe was hard pressed to keep a smile from stretching over his lips as the yellow fluff ball performed.
Glancing at his right hand man, Hibari felt a sharp spike of irritation go through him at the site of the openly amused smile on Kusakabe's lips. It reminded him somewhat of Yamamoto's wide grins, far too open and almost idiotic.
But he didn't try to shut Hibird up, or ordered it to sing another song. No - Hibari only lidded his eyes and crossed his arms, obviously listening to it.
After the last "all of these are my favourite things~" - the phrase repeated far too many times not to become the name of the 'song' - Hibird tilted its head at Hibari expectantly, finally falling silent.
Hibari stared at it with impassive eyes, but he knew that the bird would not be fazed by it. He shook his head, letting his arms drop back to his side as he strode back to the couch and sinking into it, tilting his head back to look Hibird in the eyes.
"Stop singing it."
Because Hibird had already stopped singing right then, the message was clear: Hibari didn't want to hear the bird singing it ever again.
Kusakabe wondered briefly, with some semblance of a morbid curiosity, what might happen if Hibari Kyouya ever heard Yamamoto Takeshi singing it instead.
Meanwhile, Hibird hopped around on the tatami mat, turning its back towards them. It hopped a few more times, deliberately away from Hibari, then flew up to the window sill, looking back once, like it wanted to say something.
Idiot? Kusakabe could almost hear it.
But Hibird didn't say anything, simply turning around again to fly off.
Hibari watched it leave with impassive eyes before shaking his head, turning to Kusakabe. "Inform Yamamoto Takeshi to come to my rooms when he is finished," he ordered.
Kusakabe quickly drew his wide-eyed stare from the bird, blinking dazedly as he nodded back at Hibari. "Yes, Kyou-san." He excused himself without further adieu, not sure what to make of the little exchange he'd seen.
***
It had been some time since Tsuyoshi had picked up his sword and went against someone with his full killing intent. He might have still practiced daily - for the sake of keeping his sword sharp and his mind clear, if nothing else - but to be fighting a living, breathing human being rather than a straw puppet was rare.
Much less fighting his own son.
"I'm not going to go easy on you, Takeshi!" he called to the other man on the opposite side of the studio, an easy smile on his own lips. "So don't go easy on your old man."
"Haha, love you too, dad~" Yamamoto grinned before a formal nod turned his expression serious. He had enough time to recover from being poisoned and overworked, so that he could fight in top form once more - or train, at least. He'd missed a few days’ training as it was, which only convinced Tsuna he wasn't ready for missions yet. But that was all right. He had time for his father. He hadn't had time for his father for years...
Hibird flew into the dojo-styled training room. It circled over their heads, singing its hellos, before landing on Yamamoto's shoulder.
"Hello~" Yamamoto responded softly, careful so as not to speak too loud with the bird so near.
Tsuyoshi watched as the bird fluttered in and settled so comfortable on his son's shoulder. He smiled slightly, shaking his head to himself at the blatant reminder of Hibari Kyouya - it almost seemed as if the bird was sent by the man, staking his claim on Tsuyoshi's own son, and Yamamoto didn't seem to be at all aware of it.
"Concentrate, Takeshi," he admonished lightly, raising the katana in his hand and shifting into his starting position. He wasn't jealous or possessive - not in the least, not when he knew how happy his son was with Hibari Kyouya - but he had to wonder... was Yamamoto even aware of this?
Knowing his son, he probably wasn't aware of a single thing.
Yamamoto gently coaxed the bird onto his finger and then nudged it to fly. "It's our last round of the day," he explained. "You can watch though, if you'd like."
Hibird hopped along his finger until it couldn't anymore, bobbing it's head - nodding - and spread its wings. As the bird flew back towards the entrance, Yamamoto blinked back towards his father, took a deep breath, and lifted his sword to waist level, the tip of his sword pointing at his opponent's throat.
Tsuyoshi smirked to himself darkly, his eyes automatically cataloguing all of Yamamoto's weaknesses and blind spots by instinct. His foot shifted backward, scraping against the ground, before he jumped in, katana flashing under the low lights as he struck at Yamamoto's abdomen.
Yamamoto met him, metal against metal, and much less intimidated by his father's battle aura than he had been when the man first started training him.
It was still impressive, reassuring the Vongola guardian as he sidestepped that his opponent would have no trouble ducking out of an otherwise fatal slash to his side.
Tsuyoshi predicted the slash the moment he saw Yamamoto's arm move, sidestepping and ducking underneath his son's blade. Immediately, he flipped his own katana over, the blunted side slamming towards Yamamoto's legs, even as he darted forward, a hand extended.
Even in a duel between swordsmen, one shouldn't be as stupid to use only the sword. Especially when they meant to kill. Tsunayoshi aimed a punch towards his son's stomach even as he prepared to cut off his son's legs, or sweep them out at least.
Yamamoto's eyes widened slightly, but he didn't hesitate, throwing his sword in the air, he caught the older man's fist and twisted out of the way, flipping backwards to catch his sword as it fell. As soon as his fingers curled around the handle, he rushed his father again.
But that move was one that Tsuyoshi had taught the younger man himself. He darted out of the way instinctively, feeling the air hiss as the blade cut a line through it. For a moment, Tsuyoshi took proud note of the way that Yamamoto had slashed at him - his posture and the strength behind the blade was all commendable. If Tsuyoshi had not moved, he would have been gutted.
His admiration, of course, was not a reason for him to slack off. Tsuyoshi turned his blade around, changing the angle at this time he extended his arm, lashing out to cut through Yamamoto's throat.
Under Hibird's watchful eyes, they stopped just short of truly wounding each other - stalemate - both blades but a hair from each other's throat.
With cautious, shallow breath, Yamamoto looked into his father's eyes, searching his facial expression, his body language to judge his next move.
The tension was a thread balancing on the blade of the knife.
And Tsuyoshi broke it with a laugh and a smile, willingly lowering his sword as he stepped backwards. He turned away, as was customary, and sheathed his sword with a clear shikh that rang through the air.
"You've gotten better, Takeshi," he acknowledged, smiling. He knew that if his son had any inkling of the killing intent that Tsuyoshi himself was carrying, he would have lost. Yamamoto was fighting with the handicap of not wishing to hurt Tsuyoshi, yet...
Yet for most of their training, he had fought his father into a draw. 'Improved' was the least of the words Tsuyoshi could use after feeling the cold steel of his son's sword directly at his throat.
"Thanks, old man," Yamamoto grinned as he re-sheathed his katana. With his father's back turned to him, he breathed a silent sigh of relief. Fighting against his father ran counter to everything he'd ever wanted to do with the man, but he'd done it. He'd dealt with the killing intent his own father directed at him for three consecutive days without experiencing some sort of a quarter-life crisis. Score~ "I've had the best teachers."
Throwing his head back and laughing, Tsuyoshi reached out and smacked his son across the back of his head, smirking slightly as he narrowed his eyes. "Stop flattering your old man," he admonished half-jokingly. "His heart cannot take it."
"'s not flattery," his son laughed as he spoke, "Just the truth." He held a hand out and made to count, finger by finger. "I've been trained by you and the kiddo and Squalo!" The last heir of the Shigure Souen Ryuu. The best hitman in the world. The second Sword Emperor, who took that name when he defeated the first.
"Can your heart take it now?" Yamamoto asked with a teasing sparkle in his eyes.
"So you've been keeping score, huh?" Tsuyoshi raised his eyebrows, perfectly aware of how accomplished that list was. Squalo and Reborn aside, Tsuyoshi himself had been a famous assassin in his prime; a swordsman infamous for his invincible style and his unshakeable confidence in his own skill.
It was, after all, the reason why he knew Reborn; why Reborn had sought Yamamoto out as the Vongola's Rain. Reborn had known perfectly well what Tsuyoshi was capable of; what Tsuyoshi was the heir of.
"Of course!" Yamamoto grinned. He turned back towards the entrance, collecting two bottles of water and loosening one of the caps before holding out to his old man. Hibird flew up and about beside him, settling upon his shoulder again when he stopped. "Hey, you~" he greeted it cheerfully once more. "What are you doing here?"
Before the bird could even say a thing, Tsuyoshi was laughing again, his gaze incredulous as he stared at his son playing with the yellow fluff. He knew that it was Hibari's pet - he had seen it around the other man enough to be sure - but the way his son was speaking to it...
"Haha, Takeshi, you don't think it can answer you, can you?"
Yamamoto blinked at his dad, then looked towards Hibird with a conspiring grin. He held a hand up for the bird so that it would hop onto his finger.
"This is my old man," he explained, then turned his attention back towards his father. "Go on. Ask him something."
"Hello, my old man," the bird gaze at him unblinkingly.
Both of the Yamamotos stared at it for a long moment. Tsuyoshi's mouth fell open, and he gaped at it for a long moment before he threw his head back, palm slapping against his forehead as he laughed out loud, shoulders shaking in sheer mirth.
"Why," he managed to say, the words mangled from his laughter. "I've never thought I would have another son like this!"
Hibird made a curious noise as Yamamoto's hand shook a little, and flew up before its perch became unstable.
"Another... That's... my... cute little brother!"
Before long, Yamamoto laughed so hard he had to wipe tears from his eyes. "Oh, wao..." Even his own response drew a laugh while he was trying to stop.
Hibird just looked from one man to another, wondering if they were being idiots like Hibari.
Tsuyoshi bent over, still laughing as he watched the bird flutter around the room. It might just be his imagination, but he thought he saw a look in those beady black eyes that plainly said, "all of you humans are idiots," and it just made him laugh even harder.
Back: Part 41
Next: Part 43