[fic] Windshear [Part 52/?]
Been a bit emo at home ^^ but the past few weeks have more or less been pretty good. Got some bonding time with sis, my favorite cousin, and an old friend from high school. Work was amusing too, especially when I bore witness to something that really reveals how different the expectations are between the classroom and the workplace:
Lead Programmer cum Project Lead: "Stop smiling. How many times have I told you >EE I hate it when you do that!
Newb!Programmer: ".............. Smiling... is not the problem... is it?"
Well, actually, the smiling wasn't the problem. It was the fact that the Newbie wasn't taking the Lead seriously. But at another place and point in time, it was different. Take an old classroom:
Mandarin Teacher: "Why you not smiling in my class ah? >EE" (yes, same angry face)
Student: ".............." (SMILES ^^;;;;;;)
... Respect VS Having Fun, I think.
Then again, who says we have both at the same time? XD At least, one of my old lecturers loved being able to make us laugh and learn at the same time.
Enjoy~♥
Windshear Part [52/?]
Authors: kagayachou and evocates
Characters/Pairings: Mukuro, Genkishi, Gamma, Gokudera, Yamamoto, Hibari, Hibird. Yamamoto/Hibari.
Rating: PG-13
Words: 4035
Summary: Mukuro is on the move, Gokudera wants to get back to work, and Hibari is getting very annoyed with his feelings for Yamamoto.
The sky was bright as though it had been lit up by the glow of the white orchids that hung upside down and on its own gravity, rooted on thin air. Below, there was water, dark and murky. Genkishi found himself floating on lotus leaves, and surrounded by pinkish blossoms.
Something soft touched his face and he reached for it: a white petal.
Genkishi sat up, and a tall, black lily shot out of the lotus water, stopping just short of reaching the orchid sky.
Byakuran-sama?
"Kufufu..."
Rokudo Mukuro chuckled and Genkishi found him at once, up above, suspended - or lounging rather - upon a throne of misty air. Mukuro held a finger slightly curled over his lips, as though that gesture could possibly hush the evidence of his own amusement.
"Hello, my crusader," he smiled warmly, like a benevolent god, like Byakuran, but the thought was preposterous. Genkishi knew that people saw the two as very much alike, but to him, the similarities were superficial. He could tell, with an illusionist's inner eye, that they were as different as heaven and hell.
Rokudo might as well have been sent by the devil, first to test Byakuran-san, and failing that...
Genkishi stood, as proud and steadily as he could. "I'm no crusader of yours, Rokudo."
"Oh?" Mukuro tilted his head to the side, "But you are mine, my crusader." He leaned forward, and Genkishi stumbled when the water beneath the leaves suddenly lifted him upwards, until he was brought before Mukuro, who smiled like Byakuran, before continuing.
"And so is Mukuro-kun."
"Rokudo Mukuro?" Genkishi's eyes lifted, narrowing immediately as he peered into the shifting colours of this man's eyes. The expression was purely Byakuran's - he knew he couldn't have mistaken it, given how much and how closely he had watched his God over the years. Genkishi had watched him, tried to learn about him so he could serve him as best as possible, stretched himself above and beyond the call of duty as one of his Funeral Wreathes simply because to him, Byakuran wasn't simply a boss.
He was Genkishi's God.
And now this man- this demon of Mist was trying to convince him that he was of Sky. Pretending to be something far greater, far more noble than he could ever be. Byakuran-sama was a God, the man who had saved Genkishi from a terrible disease when the rest of the world had given him up for dead; when his own willpower and abilities failed him utterly. For Rokudo Mukuro to claim to be him...
Yet, he had spoken as if he was Byakuran-sama himself. The same imperious tone, layered with that subtle mischief... Genkishi's hand clenched and unclenched at his side, and he tilted his head back, staring down at Mukuro, eyes narrowed as fire ignited in them, threatening to burn Mukuro whole if he was lying.
"Prove it."
If anything, the smile on Mukuro's face only seemed to stretch wider. "At this moment, we are in the realm of dreams - your dream, to be precise. And mine."
It was self-evident to any mist flame user that dreams could very well be powerful illusions, and trying to prove anything while in a dream was an exercise in futility.
"This is simply a friendly wake up call, my crusader," Mukuro's cheeks dimpled as he spoke. "You're in a coma, and while you are sleeping, much of the world has changed.
"So for now, let's focus on waking up first. You'll have your proof when we truly meet face to face."
"Proof?" Genkishi echoed the word, feeling his mind spin from the information that was suddenly dumped into his head. And all of the sudden he was terribly aware that he had no idea how he had gotten here, or even what 'here' was, and he closed his eyes for a moment, breathing out.
Perhaps- this man was telling the truth, after all.
"Then lead me out of here," he said quietly, turning his eyes up to meet those mismatched eyes, noticing that one of them was purple. The same shade of purple as his God. "If you are truly Byakuran-sama."
"Of course." Mukuro pushed himself to his feet, the throne of mist dispersing behind him as he stood. Still smiling at Genkishi, he held out a hand, palm facing upwards. "If you have the will to follow."
"Of course I do," Genkishi replied, immediately unfolding his legs and standing up, making to to follow Mukuro. He ignored the hand, still not trusting him completely - because if he wasn't his God, then he was an enemy, and Genkishi was not so blinded, nor such a fool, that he would take this so simply. But he stumbled slightly, the world spinning in front of him and his head was hurting as if someone had taken a sledgehammer to it-
A breath. He lidded his eyes before steeling himself, squaring his shoulders before taking first one step, then then another one. Nearing Mukuro to start following him, slowly.
Mukuro brought his hand to his lips, barely holding back a chuckle as he stepped aside. Then, he turned, leaving his back to Genkishi, as if there was nothing that the man could possibly do to him, and started walking.
***
Genkishi opened his eyes- and instinctively closed it again when he felt the white walls, white ceiling, and white light sear through his mind. He twitched slightly when he felt the pain pierce through him as if someone had taken a long, sharp needle through his head.
He blinked slightly, lips parting to croak out a single name.
"Byakuran-sama?"
But as his blurry vision cleared, instead of Byakuran or Mukuro, he found a blonde haired, blue eyed man hovering over the bed.
Gamma's lips thinned. It wasn't as if he could pretend or forget where Genkishi's loyalties truly lay. But he didn't exactly want his friend - or whatever the murderous bastard was - to wake up from coma just to hear 'Byakuran is dead.'
"Welcome back to the land of the living," he murmured dully, leaning over to press the button on the side of the bed. "You're in no shape to fight, so give it a rest for now."
Genkishi blinked, his hand immediately reaching outwards as if groping for a weapon. But he knew, even through the haze of pain that was weighing down his head, he knew that there was no chance that they would leave any of his swords with him. Not while he was captured by the Giglionero.
Byakuran-sama... Was it a dream, then? A mere fantasy conjured up by his own fevered mind? Genkishi flattened his lips into a line, and he slowly opened his eyes more fully even as he tried to sit up, turning his head towards Gamma.
"Why am I alive?"
"Because Lady Uni understands," Gamma paraphrased, crossing his arms so as to keep himself from moving to help.
He shook his head, and refocused upon Genkishi. After a moment, he spoke again, not to interrogate, but simply to ask in a quietly confused tone, "Why do you follow Byakuran?"
Genkishi's eyes widened. Lady Uni understands? What could Gamma possibly mean- no, what could their enigmatic princess herself mean? For him to have betrayed the Giglionero... mafia law dictated that he be killed immediately, shot on first sight without any mercy. Yet Uni had let him come back, and even gave him medical aid...
He would continue pondering the question, but Gamma's question made him jerk his head up. When Genkishi answered, it was short, and perfectly understandable and incomprehensible at the same time.
"He is my God."
Gamma's eyes widened, reeling back like the words had been a punch in the face. He felt like a horrible person suddenly, both for wanting to tell him - and not wanting to tell him the truth. And Genkishi really needed to know.
"Genkishi," he began almost apologetically, watching him carefully as he continued, "Your... god is now dead."
"No," the answer was instinctive, immediately, and said with a conviction of a man who knew - or thought he knew - precisely what he was talking about. "No. He can't be."
Genkishi's eyes was a little wild, a little crazed, when they met Gamma's, defiant in his denial because it simply couldn't be. Not when he had seen that smile in his dream; not when he had seen that all too familiar shade of purple. Not when Byakuran - in Mukuro's body, Mukuro's form, but still Byakuran, he was sure of it now - had told him to wake up so he could serve him again.
"You're lying, Gamma.
"I saw him. Just before I awoke. I saw him. "
There was a silence in which Gamma seemed to look at him sympathetically, but it was gone in a blink and those blue eyes hardened. "They say he was killed by Rokudo Mukuro.
"There was a fight between the Vongola and the Gesso. The Vongola won and what's left of the Gesso have scattered."
"The Vongola..." Genkishi's voice was barely above a murmur, but the light in his eyes was still something less than human. Something feral, like an animal cornered, with its claws drawn and ready to slash out the throat of any enemy that might come near. "Rokudo Mukuro..."
Had he lied, then? Had that man merely played a trick on his mind, making him believe in Byakuran when his God was already dead? No- no, it couldn't be.
"He couldn't be dead," he stated flatly, deadly. "Gods cannot die, Gamma."
Gamma could only stare for a moment, slack jawed and absolutely bewildered. "Gods..." He shut his mouth and tried to gather his thoughts. He'd never imagined that this kind of resolve, this loyalty, could exist, such that his own feelings for Lady Uni, and her mother, seemed to pale in comparison.
But that wasn't right; Genkishi was delusional. If he could just make the blind fool see-
"Genkishi-kun is right, Gamma-san," came another voice from the window.
Where Rokudo Mukuro sat, one long leg crossed over the other, as though he was lounging upon a seat fit for a king.
"In that gods do not die. They simply move on."
Genkishi's head snapped to the side at the sound of that voice. This man... his mind whirled. Was he truly Byakuran-sama like he had claimed in the dream? Like he had declared so fervently to be to himself just to escape the reality that his God could be dead? Or... or was he the man who killed Byakuran? And who, if he had, Genkishi would destroy with his own hands?
And what would he do if Mukuro was both?
"Rokudo Mukuro," he finally greeted, an edge clear in his voice.
Gamma tensed and stood up, prepared to come between them. "To what do we owe the pleasure of your company, Rokudo?"
It wasn't clear yet whether he would have to defend Genkishi against Mukuro, or keep the injured man from trying to avenge the death of his 'god'.. Regardless of everything he had done, Lady Uni had readily forgiven the wayward swordsman, and although Gamma was not as forgiving, Genkishi was still part of the Giglionero.
Even if Genkishi didn't seem to think so himself.
As if he could read their thoughts, Mukuro held his hands up in mock surrender and spoke in a placating tone. "I'm merely here to see how the dear Black Crusader is faring."
Gamma's lips parted as if to speak, but his gaze jerked to focus on Genkishi when the other man gasped, a horrible little sound as if he had all the air punched out of him. His eyes were wide underneath those thick brows, a hand clenched against the sheets and Gamma couldn't help but turn and stare at Mukuro again, wondering what the hell did the man just say that would incite such a reaction.
A crusader, huh?
Those words... Genkishi knew, all of the sudden, that this man - his dark hair streaked with white, the blue of his eye constantly shifting into purple - was the same man who had saved him from death when the world had given up. He was-
'Byakuran-sama,' Genkishi wanted to say, but Mukuro moved quickly, passing through Gamma like a phantom. With a mischievous smirk, he held a finger to his lips, both eyes flickering from red and blue into an icy violet.
Those eyes- Gamma was in no position to see them, but Byakuran's eyes demanded Genkishi's silent and undivided attention.
"You should know the truth, Genkishi-kun." When he spoke, his voice was hypnotically gentle. "The vessel known as Byakuran is indeed empty now, and the body has been laid to rest."
His message seemed perfectly reasonable. The words conveyed exactly what Gamma wanted Genkishi to accept: that Byakuran was dead and gone.
But it was coming from the infamous Rokudo Mukuro, who singlehandedly decimated the Estraneo famiglia when he was a mere child, manipulated another man into slaying his entire mafia family as well, was only imprisoned in Italy when he narrowly failed to do the same thing to the Vongola Tenth, and then defeated the Mist Arcobaleno soon afterwards, when his opponent was 6000 miles away in Japan. All before he was even a teenager.
And then, for no apparent reason, the Vongola cut a deal with his jailers, officially recognizing him as a member of their family - a Ring Guardian, no less. Mukuro been quiet and off the radar since then, until now...
After killing Byakuran, who was arguably the last Head of the Gesso family, and his rumored-lover of the past six to seven years.
Oh, he is not setting his sights on the Giglionero, Gamma thought.
"As for the spirit," Mukuro continued conversationally, "well..."
Gamma spun around, lightning flame at the ready, but the illusion was already fading. And Genkishi's eyes were fixated upon Mukuro's face, Byakuran's smile.
Laughter lingered, and then all became silent until the nurse could finally make it.
***
When Mukuro came to, he found himself in his room back at the mansion. It seemed that Chikusa and or Ken had taken the liberty of carrying his unconscious body from the car all the way back to his wing of the mansion, all the stairs be damned.
Ken was already digging into his ice cream, significantly quieter than normal if only because of his leader's sleeping status. With a soft chuckle, he alerted the others, and sat up, yawning, stretching, and ready to brief them on his newest plans.
***
Morning came, and sunlight - that detestable alarm clock - found Gokudera fully clothed on top of the sheets, with a massive hangover, and alone. He groaned, reaching up for a pillow to cover his face. Five minutes later, he bolted towards the bathroom, to worship the toilet, then stuck his head under the shower until it stopped aching.
When he felt presentable enough to step outside of his room, he stomped right over an innocent-looking white envelop.
That was when he could no longer ignore it: he had been there after all, with Ryohei, when Mammon delivered Belphegor's letter.
He wasn't sure if he wanted to know how he ended up in his own bed. He wasn't even sure he wanted to know just what Ryohei had to do with it. But, staring at the wax-sealed envelop, he could feel his headache coming back full throttle.
"Tch, might as well get this over with," Gokudera grumbled, and plucked the letter from the floor as if it was poisonous.
Half-way down the stairs, it occurred to him that although Ryohei was likely to be in one of the training rooms, there was really no need to see the man in person in order to deliver that letter.
In fact, it was probably a good idea to chuck it into a paper shredder, but Gokudera didn't want to risk it being something important in the long run. Turning around, he stalked back upstairs and headed for Ryohei's wing, jamming the envelop under the door when he reached the older man's room.
With that, he spun around. Headache medicine was just what Shamal would order, damnit, and the Vongola Tenth's Right Hand Man bloody well had work to do.
***
When Yamamoto opened his eyes again, it was because his head, his arm - his entire body - ached like it was burning. But through it all, he found himself focusing upon the distant sound of flowing water, the periodic tap-tapping of the shishi-odori outside, and Hibird's chipping nearby.
"Yamamoto Takeshi! Yamamoto Takeshi!" Hibird flew up and about when it was absolutely sure that the human was awake.
Then, it flew out the window, calling for Hibari.
Outside, sitting in his garden with a cup of tea in his hand and staring out to the pond, Hibari sat on the wooden boards at the edge of the house, legs folded underneath him. At the sound of those calls, he reached out a hand, letting the tiny yellow bird land on it, hopping lightly on the slender digit even as it cocked its head at him, black beady eyes curious before it chirped Yamamoto's name again.
But Hibari didn't answer Hibird, didn't even shake his head or nod. Instead, he simply unfolded his legs and placed the cup of tea on the ground, trusting Kusakabe to clean up after him before he started to walk towards the room where Yamamoto was staying. The man had slept for almost a day, and Hibari thought that if the man had been anyone else, he would not have had the patience to wait for him.
In fact, he wouldn't have even touched him at all.
Fingers trailed down the wood of the sliding door for a moment before he pulled it open, his calm gaze landing on Yamamoto's form on the futon. His eyes narrowed slightly, taking in every single bit of him, every movement, to judge if the other man had recovered fully.
"You're still in pain," he stated his final diagnosis.
From where he sat, sleeve pulled up while he was examining his arm, Yamamoto looked up at Hibari and quite naturally nodded, a sheepish smile briefly gracing his lips.
"To be able to feel it is a good sign," he simply answered, brushing the sleeve down again as he moved to stand. "Good," a quick glance towards the window later, "afternoon?"
"You slept the whole day," Hibari told him immediately, never one for much pleasantris, or even any at all. He leaned against the wall, jerking his finger slightly to nudge Hibird off it before he folded his arms.
A pause, then he sighed, hating the slight feeling of guilt that crept up to him whenever he looked at Yamamoto's arms and saw those scars; whenever he remembered that he was the cause of them. He lidded his eyes, tilting his head to the side.
"I defeated Yamamoto Tsuyoshi."
There was a second where big brown eyes only seemed to widen. Then, Yamamoto blinked. "And I just had to miss it," he replied with a rueful smirk. "... How was it? How is he now?"
He couldn't very well say that he was surprised by the outcome. Not when his old man's opponent was Hibari.
Yamamoto shifted slightly, from one foot to the other, adjusting his yukata more as he subconsciously moved closer toward the door. He didn't want to worry his father with his condition. It's not so bad... But he was worried for his father... his pride, in the very least.
"He's fine," Hibari shrugged, pushing himself away from the wall to step towards the window. He still rememered the dark look in Yamamoto Tsuyoshi's face when he was defeated, and he couldn't help but quirk a lip up, finding that old man's fighting spirit interesting. How strange, for someone who had so much pride in his swordplay to have a son who was unwilling to fight him. "He wasn't injured."
But obviously, his pride was - Hibari, however, wasn't a man who would care about such things. If Tsuyoshi's pride was hurt, the onus was still on him to repair it as best as he could by himself.
"Ah, that's good," Yamamoto smiled. "Well... not for his pride," he amended with a chuckle. But as he thought about his father, he really had to wonder whether the man would have felt better if he had been injured or not...
"Did he ask about me? About my not being there?" He turned back towards Hibari as he spoke, but blinked as Hibird settled on his uninjured shoulder.
"Hey little brother," Yamamoto smiled down at Hibird, then looked at Hibari once more, for an answer to his questions.
Hibari watched as Hibird nuzzled into Yamamoto's shoulder, chirping cheerfully at the man even as he nipped at the small, short hairs at the base of his neck. It was still strange to think that the bird - not his, because he was a predator as well, and Hibari was not such a fool as to think that a predator could be owned - as being so completely affectionate with another person, but he brushed away the thought quickly.
"He did," came the short reply, before Hibari cocked his head slightly to the side, watching Yamamoto carefully. "I told him to find you here. You were still sleeping."
"Ah..." The corners of Yamamoto's lips turned down briefly and his brows creased as he realized he had been that out of it not to wake up when his father came to check on him.
"Then... did he say anything?" It was strange, the knowledge that he'd angered and worried his father. And disappointed him.
A pause, and Hibari shrugged, turning around to look out of the window again. "Ask him yourself, if you're so curious."
"All right then." That's just like Hibari, came an idle, fond thought. Yamamoto was about to take his leave when Hibird suddenly perked up more and flew out the window, as if it had just spotted prey. Staring after it, Yamamoto couldn't see what had gotten its attention. He blinked, glancing back towards Hibari.
It struck him then that Hibari was... just short of defensive. What was he- closed off. More so than usual from the way he was hanging back with his arms crossed, hands hidden in his sleeves and shoulders pressed stiffly against the wall.
"Hibari? Are you- okay?"
Immediately, Hibari's eyes snapped to him, narrowed and suspicious as he pushed himself away from the window to stand next to Yamamoto's futon. He ran his gaze down the taller man's body again, taking in every inch of his skin, trying to find some sort of injury that he hadn't noticed before. He focused especially on the head - the doctor he had called over after Yamamoto went to bed had said that he didn't have a head injury, and Hibari knew that he wouldn't lie if only for the sake of his own life, but there was a nagging doubt, nonetheless.
"You're being stupid," he said finally. "Rest more."
But I slept the whole day, was just on the edge of that wry smile crawling over Yamamoto's lips. "I'm-" He schooled his face so as to show that he wasn't kidding as he continued, "asking about your feelings, Hibari.
"How are you feeling?"
Hibari snorted, arching an eyebrow, "You are behaving like a herbivore again."
"Carnivores have feelings too," Yamamoto pointed out with a small smile. "Is it this?" He touched his own sleeve, but didn't draw it up, simply waiting for a response, a clue.
Hibari looked at him for a long moment more, feeling the guilt rise up within him again and he hated this feeling. He hated how Yamamoto could make him feel weak, could cause those herbivorish emotions to threaten to overwhelm him. Eyes narrowing, he jerked his head away, "No."
And he started towards the door; if such feelings caused him to feel annoyed, then he would get rid of them.
"Yamamoto Tsuyoshi will be coming here."
And he closed the door behind him.
Back: Part 51
Next: Part 53
Lead Programmer cum Project Lead: "Stop smiling. How many times have I told you >EE I hate it when you do that!
Newb!Programmer: ".............. Smiling... is not the problem... is it?"
Well, actually, the smiling wasn't the problem. It was the fact that the Newbie wasn't taking the Lead seriously. But at another place and point in time, it was different. Take an old classroom:
Mandarin Teacher: "Why you not smiling in my class ah? >EE" (yes, same angry face)
Student: ".............." (SMILES ^^;;;;;;)
... Respect VS Having Fun, I think.
Then again, who says we have both at the same time? XD At least, one of my old lecturers loved being able to make us laugh and learn at the same time.
Enjoy~♥
Windshear Part [52/?]
Authors: kagayachou and evocates
Characters/Pairings: Mukuro, Genkishi, Gamma, Gokudera, Yamamoto, Hibari, Hibird. Yamamoto/Hibari.
Rating: PG-13
Words: 4035
Summary: Mukuro is on the move, Gokudera wants to get back to work, and Hibari is getting very annoyed with his feelings for Yamamoto.
The sky was bright as though it had been lit up by the glow of the white orchids that hung upside down and on its own gravity, rooted on thin air. Below, there was water, dark and murky. Genkishi found himself floating on lotus leaves, and surrounded by pinkish blossoms.
Something soft touched his face and he reached for it: a white petal.
Genkishi sat up, and a tall, black lily shot out of the lotus water, stopping just short of reaching the orchid sky.
Byakuran-sama?
"Kufufu..."
Rokudo Mukuro chuckled and Genkishi found him at once, up above, suspended - or lounging rather - upon a throne of misty air. Mukuro held a finger slightly curled over his lips, as though that gesture could possibly hush the evidence of his own amusement.
"Hello, my crusader," he smiled warmly, like a benevolent god, like Byakuran, but the thought was preposterous. Genkishi knew that people saw the two as very much alike, but to him, the similarities were superficial. He could tell, with an illusionist's inner eye, that they were as different as heaven and hell.
Rokudo might as well have been sent by the devil, first to test Byakuran-san, and failing that...
Genkishi stood, as proud and steadily as he could. "I'm no crusader of yours, Rokudo."
"Oh?" Mukuro tilted his head to the side, "But you are mine, my crusader." He leaned forward, and Genkishi stumbled when the water beneath the leaves suddenly lifted him upwards, until he was brought before Mukuro, who smiled like Byakuran, before continuing.
"And so is Mukuro-kun."
"Rokudo Mukuro?" Genkishi's eyes lifted, narrowing immediately as he peered into the shifting colours of this man's eyes. The expression was purely Byakuran's - he knew he couldn't have mistaken it, given how much and how closely he had watched his God over the years. Genkishi had watched him, tried to learn about him so he could serve him as best as possible, stretched himself above and beyond the call of duty as one of his Funeral Wreathes simply because to him, Byakuran wasn't simply a boss.
He was Genkishi's God.
And now this man- this demon of Mist was trying to convince him that he was of Sky. Pretending to be something far greater, far more noble than he could ever be. Byakuran-sama was a God, the man who had saved Genkishi from a terrible disease when the rest of the world had given him up for dead; when his own willpower and abilities failed him utterly. For Rokudo Mukuro to claim to be him...
Yet, he had spoken as if he was Byakuran-sama himself. The same imperious tone, layered with that subtle mischief... Genkishi's hand clenched and unclenched at his side, and he tilted his head back, staring down at Mukuro, eyes narrowed as fire ignited in them, threatening to burn Mukuro whole if he was lying.
"Prove it."
If anything, the smile on Mukuro's face only seemed to stretch wider. "At this moment, we are in the realm of dreams - your dream, to be precise. And mine."
It was self-evident to any mist flame user that dreams could very well be powerful illusions, and trying to prove anything while in a dream was an exercise in futility.
"This is simply a friendly wake up call, my crusader," Mukuro's cheeks dimpled as he spoke. "You're in a coma, and while you are sleeping, much of the world has changed.
"So for now, let's focus on waking up first. You'll have your proof when we truly meet face to face."
"Proof?" Genkishi echoed the word, feeling his mind spin from the information that was suddenly dumped into his head. And all of the sudden he was terribly aware that he had no idea how he had gotten here, or even what 'here' was, and he closed his eyes for a moment, breathing out.
Perhaps- this man was telling the truth, after all.
"Then lead me out of here," he said quietly, turning his eyes up to meet those mismatched eyes, noticing that one of them was purple. The same shade of purple as his God. "If you are truly Byakuran-sama."
"Of course." Mukuro pushed himself to his feet, the throne of mist dispersing behind him as he stood. Still smiling at Genkishi, he held out a hand, palm facing upwards. "If you have the will to follow."
"Of course I do," Genkishi replied, immediately unfolding his legs and standing up, making to to follow Mukuro. He ignored the hand, still not trusting him completely - because if he wasn't his God, then he was an enemy, and Genkishi was not so blinded, nor such a fool, that he would take this so simply. But he stumbled slightly, the world spinning in front of him and his head was hurting as if someone had taken a sledgehammer to it-
A breath. He lidded his eyes before steeling himself, squaring his shoulders before taking first one step, then then another one. Nearing Mukuro to start following him, slowly.
Mukuro brought his hand to his lips, barely holding back a chuckle as he stepped aside. Then, he turned, leaving his back to Genkishi, as if there was nothing that the man could possibly do to him, and started walking.
***
Genkishi opened his eyes- and instinctively closed it again when he felt the white walls, white ceiling, and white light sear through his mind. He twitched slightly when he felt the pain pierce through him as if someone had taken a long, sharp needle through his head.
He blinked slightly, lips parting to croak out a single name.
"Byakuran-sama?"
But as his blurry vision cleared, instead of Byakuran or Mukuro, he found a blonde haired, blue eyed man hovering over the bed.
Gamma's lips thinned. It wasn't as if he could pretend or forget where Genkishi's loyalties truly lay. But he didn't exactly want his friend - or whatever the murderous bastard was - to wake up from coma just to hear 'Byakuran is dead.'
"Welcome back to the land of the living," he murmured dully, leaning over to press the button on the side of the bed. "You're in no shape to fight, so give it a rest for now."
Genkishi blinked, his hand immediately reaching outwards as if groping for a weapon. But he knew, even through the haze of pain that was weighing down his head, he knew that there was no chance that they would leave any of his swords with him. Not while he was captured by the Giglionero.
Byakuran-sama... Was it a dream, then? A mere fantasy conjured up by his own fevered mind? Genkishi flattened his lips into a line, and he slowly opened his eyes more fully even as he tried to sit up, turning his head towards Gamma.
"Why am I alive?"
"Because Lady Uni understands," Gamma paraphrased, crossing his arms so as to keep himself from moving to help.
He shook his head, and refocused upon Genkishi. After a moment, he spoke again, not to interrogate, but simply to ask in a quietly confused tone, "Why do you follow Byakuran?"
Genkishi's eyes widened. Lady Uni understands? What could Gamma possibly mean- no, what could their enigmatic princess herself mean? For him to have betrayed the Giglionero... mafia law dictated that he be killed immediately, shot on first sight without any mercy. Yet Uni had let him come back, and even gave him medical aid...
He would continue pondering the question, but Gamma's question made him jerk his head up. When Genkishi answered, it was short, and perfectly understandable and incomprehensible at the same time.
"He is my God."
Gamma's eyes widened, reeling back like the words had been a punch in the face. He felt like a horrible person suddenly, both for wanting to tell him - and not wanting to tell him the truth. And Genkishi really needed to know.
"Genkishi," he began almost apologetically, watching him carefully as he continued, "Your... god is now dead."
"No," the answer was instinctive, immediately, and said with a conviction of a man who knew - or thought he knew - precisely what he was talking about. "No. He can't be."
Genkishi's eyes was a little wild, a little crazed, when they met Gamma's, defiant in his denial because it simply couldn't be. Not when he had seen that smile in his dream; not when he had seen that all too familiar shade of purple. Not when Byakuran - in Mukuro's body, Mukuro's form, but still Byakuran, he was sure of it now - had told him to wake up so he could serve him again.
"You're lying, Gamma.
"I saw him. Just before I awoke. I saw him. "
There was a silence in which Gamma seemed to look at him sympathetically, but it was gone in a blink and those blue eyes hardened. "They say he was killed by Rokudo Mukuro.
"There was a fight between the Vongola and the Gesso. The Vongola won and what's left of the Gesso have scattered."
"The Vongola..." Genkishi's voice was barely above a murmur, but the light in his eyes was still something less than human. Something feral, like an animal cornered, with its claws drawn and ready to slash out the throat of any enemy that might come near. "Rokudo Mukuro..."
Had he lied, then? Had that man merely played a trick on his mind, making him believe in Byakuran when his God was already dead? No- no, it couldn't be.
"He couldn't be dead," he stated flatly, deadly. "Gods cannot die, Gamma."
Gamma could only stare for a moment, slack jawed and absolutely bewildered. "Gods..." He shut his mouth and tried to gather his thoughts. He'd never imagined that this kind of resolve, this loyalty, could exist, such that his own feelings for Lady Uni, and her mother, seemed to pale in comparison.
But that wasn't right; Genkishi was delusional. If he could just make the blind fool see-
"Genkishi-kun is right, Gamma-san," came another voice from the window.
Where Rokudo Mukuro sat, one long leg crossed over the other, as though he was lounging upon a seat fit for a king.
"In that gods do not die. They simply move on."
Genkishi's head snapped to the side at the sound of that voice. This man... his mind whirled. Was he truly Byakuran-sama like he had claimed in the dream? Like he had declared so fervently to be to himself just to escape the reality that his God could be dead? Or... or was he the man who killed Byakuran? And who, if he had, Genkishi would destroy with his own hands?
And what would he do if Mukuro was both?
"Rokudo Mukuro," he finally greeted, an edge clear in his voice.
Gamma tensed and stood up, prepared to come between them. "To what do we owe the pleasure of your company, Rokudo?"
It wasn't clear yet whether he would have to defend Genkishi against Mukuro, or keep the injured man from trying to avenge the death of his 'god'.. Regardless of everything he had done, Lady Uni had readily forgiven the wayward swordsman, and although Gamma was not as forgiving, Genkishi was still part of the Giglionero.
Even if Genkishi didn't seem to think so himself.
As if he could read their thoughts, Mukuro held his hands up in mock surrender and spoke in a placating tone. "I'm merely here to see how the dear Black Crusader is faring."
Gamma's lips parted as if to speak, but his gaze jerked to focus on Genkishi when the other man gasped, a horrible little sound as if he had all the air punched out of him. His eyes were wide underneath those thick brows, a hand clenched against the sheets and Gamma couldn't help but turn and stare at Mukuro again, wondering what the hell did the man just say that would incite such a reaction.
A crusader, huh?
Those words... Genkishi knew, all of the sudden, that this man - his dark hair streaked with white, the blue of his eye constantly shifting into purple - was the same man who had saved him from death when the world had given up. He was-
'Byakuran-sama,' Genkishi wanted to say, but Mukuro moved quickly, passing through Gamma like a phantom. With a mischievous smirk, he held a finger to his lips, both eyes flickering from red and blue into an icy violet.
Those eyes- Gamma was in no position to see them, but Byakuran's eyes demanded Genkishi's silent and undivided attention.
"You should know the truth, Genkishi-kun." When he spoke, his voice was hypnotically gentle. "The vessel known as Byakuran is indeed empty now, and the body has been laid to rest."
His message seemed perfectly reasonable. The words conveyed exactly what Gamma wanted Genkishi to accept: that Byakuran was dead and gone.
But it was coming from the infamous Rokudo Mukuro, who singlehandedly decimated the Estraneo famiglia when he was a mere child, manipulated another man into slaying his entire mafia family as well, was only imprisoned in Italy when he narrowly failed to do the same thing to the Vongola Tenth, and then defeated the Mist Arcobaleno soon afterwards, when his opponent was 6000 miles away in Japan. All before he was even a teenager.
And then, for no apparent reason, the Vongola cut a deal with his jailers, officially recognizing him as a member of their family - a Ring Guardian, no less. Mukuro been quiet and off the radar since then, until now...
After killing Byakuran, who was arguably the last Head of the Gesso family, and his rumored-lover of the past six to seven years.
Oh, he is not setting his sights on the Giglionero, Gamma thought.
"As for the spirit," Mukuro continued conversationally, "well..."
Gamma spun around, lightning flame at the ready, but the illusion was already fading. And Genkishi's eyes were fixated upon Mukuro's face, Byakuran's smile.
Laughter lingered, and then all became silent until the nurse could finally make it.
***
When Mukuro came to, he found himself in his room back at the mansion. It seemed that Chikusa and or Ken had taken the liberty of carrying his unconscious body from the car all the way back to his wing of the mansion, all the stairs be damned.
Ken was already digging into his ice cream, significantly quieter than normal if only because of his leader's sleeping status. With a soft chuckle, he alerted the others, and sat up, yawning, stretching, and ready to brief them on his newest plans.
***
Morning came, and sunlight - that detestable alarm clock - found Gokudera fully clothed on top of the sheets, with a massive hangover, and alone. He groaned, reaching up for a pillow to cover his face. Five minutes later, he bolted towards the bathroom, to worship the toilet, then stuck his head under the shower until it stopped aching.
When he felt presentable enough to step outside of his room, he stomped right over an innocent-looking white envelop.
That was when he could no longer ignore it: he had been there after all, with Ryohei, when Mammon delivered Belphegor's letter.
He wasn't sure if he wanted to know how he ended up in his own bed. He wasn't even sure he wanted to know just what Ryohei had to do with it. But, staring at the wax-sealed envelop, he could feel his headache coming back full throttle.
"Tch, might as well get this over with," Gokudera grumbled, and plucked the letter from the floor as if it was poisonous.
Half-way down the stairs, it occurred to him that although Ryohei was likely to be in one of the training rooms, there was really no need to see the man in person in order to deliver that letter.
In fact, it was probably a good idea to chuck it into a paper shredder, but Gokudera didn't want to risk it being something important in the long run. Turning around, he stalked back upstairs and headed for Ryohei's wing, jamming the envelop under the door when he reached the older man's room.
With that, he spun around. Headache medicine was just what Shamal would order, damnit, and the Vongola Tenth's Right Hand Man bloody well had work to do.
***
When Yamamoto opened his eyes again, it was because his head, his arm - his entire body - ached like it was burning. But through it all, he found himself focusing upon the distant sound of flowing water, the periodic tap-tapping of the shishi-odori outside, and Hibird's chipping nearby.
"Yamamoto Takeshi! Yamamoto Takeshi!" Hibird flew up and about when it was absolutely sure that the human was awake.
Then, it flew out the window, calling for Hibari.
Outside, sitting in his garden with a cup of tea in his hand and staring out to the pond, Hibari sat on the wooden boards at the edge of the house, legs folded underneath him. At the sound of those calls, he reached out a hand, letting the tiny yellow bird land on it, hopping lightly on the slender digit even as it cocked its head at him, black beady eyes curious before it chirped Yamamoto's name again.
But Hibari didn't answer Hibird, didn't even shake his head or nod. Instead, he simply unfolded his legs and placed the cup of tea on the ground, trusting Kusakabe to clean up after him before he started to walk towards the room where Yamamoto was staying. The man had slept for almost a day, and Hibari thought that if the man had been anyone else, he would not have had the patience to wait for him.
In fact, he wouldn't have even touched him at all.
Fingers trailed down the wood of the sliding door for a moment before he pulled it open, his calm gaze landing on Yamamoto's form on the futon. His eyes narrowed slightly, taking in every single bit of him, every movement, to judge if the other man had recovered fully.
"You're still in pain," he stated his final diagnosis.
From where he sat, sleeve pulled up while he was examining his arm, Yamamoto looked up at Hibari and quite naturally nodded, a sheepish smile briefly gracing his lips.
"To be able to feel it is a good sign," he simply answered, brushing the sleeve down again as he moved to stand. "Good," a quick glance towards the window later, "afternoon?"
"You slept the whole day," Hibari told him immediately, never one for much pleasantris, or even any at all. He leaned against the wall, jerking his finger slightly to nudge Hibird off it before he folded his arms.
A pause, then he sighed, hating the slight feeling of guilt that crept up to him whenever he looked at Yamamoto's arms and saw those scars; whenever he remembered that he was the cause of them. He lidded his eyes, tilting his head to the side.
"I defeated Yamamoto Tsuyoshi."
There was a second where big brown eyes only seemed to widen. Then, Yamamoto blinked. "And I just had to miss it," he replied with a rueful smirk. "... How was it? How is he now?"
He couldn't very well say that he was surprised by the outcome. Not when his old man's opponent was Hibari.
Yamamoto shifted slightly, from one foot to the other, adjusting his yukata more as he subconsciously moved closer toward the door. He didn't want to worry his father with his condition. It's not so bad... But he was worried for his father... his pride, in the very least.
"He's fine," Hibari shrugged, pushing himself away from the wall to step towards the window. He still rememered the dark look in Yamamoto Tsuyoshi's face when he was defeated, and he couldn't help but quirk a lip up, finding that old man's fighting spirit interesting. How strange, for someone who had so much pride in his swordplay to have a son who was unwilling to fight him. "He wasn't injured."
But obviously, his pride was - Hibari, however, wasn't a man who would care about such things. If Tsuyoshi's pride was hurt, the onus was still on him to repair it as best as he could by himself.
"Ah, that's good," Yamamoto smiled. "Well... not for his pride," he amended with a chuckle. But as he thought about his father, he really had to wonder whether the man would have felt better if he had been injured or not...
"Did he ask about me? About my not being there?" He turned back towards Hibari as he spoke, but blinked as Hibird settled on his uninjured shoulder.
"Hey little brother," Yamamoto smiled down at Hibird, then looked at Hibari once more, for an answer to his questions.
Hibari watched as Hibird nuzzled into Yamamoto's shoulder, chirping cheerfully at the man even as he nipped at the small, short hairs at the base of his neck. It was still strange to think that the bird - not his, because he was a predator as well, and Hibari was not such a fool as to think that a predator could be owned - as being so completely affectionate with another person, but he brushed away the thought quickly.
"He did," came the short reply, before Hibari cocked his head slightly to the side, watching Yamamoto carefully. "I told him to find you here. You were still sleeping."
"Ah..." The corners of Yamamoto's lips turned down briefly and his brows creased as he realized he had been that out of it not to wake up when his father came to check on him.
"Then... did he say anything?" It was strange, the knowledge that he'd angered and worried his father. And disappointed him.
A pause, and Hibari shrugged, turning around to look out of the window again. "Ask him yourself, if you're so curious."
"All right then." That's just like Hibari, came an idle, fond thought. Yamamoto was about to take his leave when Hibird suddenly perked up more and flew out the window, as if it had just spotted prey. Staring after it, Yamamoto couldn't see what had gotten its attention. He blinked, glancing back towards Hibari.
It struck him then that Hibari was... just short of defensive. What was he- closed off. More so than usual from the way he was hanging back with his arms crossed, hands hidden in his sleeves and shoulders pressed stiffly against the wall.
"Hibari? Are you- okay?"
Immediately, Hibari's eyes snapped to him, narrowed and suspicious as he pushed himself away from the window to stand next to Yamamoto's futon. He ran his gaze down the taller man's body again, taking in every inch of his skin, trying to find some sort of injury that he hadn't noticed before. He focused especially on the head - the doctor he had called over after Yamamoto went to bed had said that he didn't have a head injury, and Hibari knew that he wouldn't lie if only for the sake of his own life, but there was a nagging doubt, nonetheless.
"You're being stupid," he said finally. "Rest more."
But I slept the whole day, was just on the edge of that wry smile crawling over Yamamoto's lips. "I'm-" He schooled his face so as to show that he wasn't kidding as he continued, "asking about your feelings, Hibari.
"How are you feeling?"
Hibari snorted, arching an eyebrow, "You are behaving like a herbivore again."
"Carnivores have feelings too," Yamamoto pointed out with a small smile. "Is it this?" He touched his own sleeve, but didn't draw it up, simply waiting for a response, a clue.
Hibari looked at him for a long moment more, feeling the guilt rise up within him again and he hated this feeling. He hated how Yamamoto could make him feel weak, could cause those herbivorish emotions to threaten to overwhelm him. Eyes narrowing, he jerked his head away, "No."
And he started towards the door; if such feelings caused him to feel annoyed, then he would get rid of them.
"Yamamoto Tsuyoshi will be coming here."
And he closed the door behind him.
Back: Part 51
Next: Part 53