Ficcity fic fic
Title: Bunk Beds
Fandom: Katekyo Hitman Reborn!
Pairing: protector!5927
Rating: K+/PG
Warnings: TYL arc spoilers, language
Summary: Tsuna reveals his true fears to Gokudera when lying in the bunk bed that first night.
Bunk Beds
Gokudera lay motionless in his bed, watching the imprint of Tsuna’s body shift restlessly on the bunk above him. His throat tightened when Tsuna inhaled deeply through his nose, trying to stifle his sniffles, only to release it in a long, shuddering sob. Gokudera didn’t try to ignore Tsuna’s misery and instead thought over and over again how it was the baseball-freak’s fault, how they all should have been stronger, how he would destroy that guy with the glasses, how dare that bitch order the Tenth around like that, how-
How could have he been so weak?
Gokudera’s grip tightened on his pillow until he could feel his nails biting into his palm. He swallowed when Tsuna let out a particularly piteous moan and he wanted to do something to comfort his Tenth. What use was being the smartest in his class, one of the strongest in their group when he didn’t have a clue how to aid his boss when he needed him most? Gokudera felt the heavy weight of failure settle over him but knew better than to try saying something to Tsuna. “You can definitely do it Tenth!” didn’t feel like the right thing to say anymore. Because if the future Tenth couldn’t do it-
Then how could a weaker Tenth-
No.
Don’t think like that. There must have been something very wrong with Gokudera’s future self for him to fail Tsuna so horribly.
But because this Gokudera was here, here with this Tsuna now, this Tsuna would never lie in that lily-lined coffin. He would make sure of that.
Tsuna’s sniffles finally quieted and Gokudera’s heart ached with uselessness. He wanted to press a hand into the underside of Tsuna’s mattress, just to let him know that his right hand man was there, always there. But Gokudera didn’t dare in case of disturbing him.
“Gokudera-kun?” Tsuna’s voice was heavy with swallowed sobs.
The answer was almost reflex now. “Yes Tenth?” Gokudera replied immediately.
“Y-Yamamoto looks kind of like his dad, d-doesn’t he?”
Gokudera frowned at the subject, but thought about it. “I suppose they do look alike. Their jaw lines are similar.” Thinking about Yamamoto just made Gokudera feel even worse. Yamamoto would know exactly what to do in this situation.
Yamamoto would know what to do and yet he couldn’t protect Tsuna-
Tsuna made a vague noise of agreement, before turning over. The wooden structure of their bed complained loudly at the movement.
“Ah, sorry Gokudera-kun.”
“Please don’t worry Tenth.”
They both shifted in their beds and Gokudera waited for Tsuna’s shaky breath to even out, so he could at least sleep knowing that Tsuna was resting.
“Gokudera-kun?”
“Yes Tenth?”
“He’s very different n-now, isn’t he?”
Yamamoto again? Gokudera didn’t really know how to answer that but was saved from doing so as Tsuna continued. “I mean, I know he’s grown up and more experienced and everything b-but…”
Gokudera could hear Tsuna swallow harshly, even through the sound of Tsuna’s blanket shifting. “I don’t know this Yamamoto. He’s not the same.”
Of course he’s not the same. Nine years and ten months have gone by since their fifteen-year-old Yamamoto could smile and laugh and believe that their ugly world was a game. Nine years and ten months and now twenty-five-year-old Yamamoto would have been forced to realise that nothing had ever been a game. He would have been forced to leave his baseball bat with his memories of raw fish and evenings of sports on the TV. He would have been forced to sleep with an unsheathed sword at his side every night, would have watched the bodies of friends fall, would have buried his father with his own calloused hands, would have helped cushion Tsuna’s coffin with lilies along with Gokudera’s future self -
- and Gokudera’s future self would have suffocated under the weight of failing, shaming, failing, killing, failing his Tenth. He would have visited that black, polished, flawless coffin everyday, only it wasn’t flawless because Tsuna was dead and cold inside it and that was wrongwrongwrong
“He’s not the same Tenth because he had to grow up.” Gokudera had to try to keep his voice gentle. His usual tone that accompanied the baseball-freak’s name wouldn’t help. “Yamamoto can’t be an efficient guardian if he’s an empty airhead.”
Then, so quietly, Gokudera could have missed it if he hadn’t been focusing solely on Tsuna’s breathing -
“Yamamoto shouldn’t be like this. None of you should be like this.”
“Tenth-” Gokudera said immediately, denial at his lips. It was knocked aside as Tsuna ploughed on.
“If everyone wasn’t so focused on the Mafia, they could all have normal lives.”
“Tenth-”
“No Gokudera-kun!” With that exclamation, Gokudera realised the extent to which guilt had burrowed into Tsuna, eating away at his insides. Tsuna sat up in his bed and the imprint of his back in the mattress turned into a solid bump. Gokudera imagined that Tsuna would be curled over his legs, pressing his sweaty forehead into his knees. “This isn’t what they deserve! This isn’t what Yamamoto deserves! He should be playing baseball! He should be helping his dad at the restaurant!” A shaky breath. “He should be dating and not scarred and sad and lonely and old and w-when he first saw me, he was looking at me as if his whole world was right in front of him and, and, and- Oh God Gokudera-kun, I’m sorry. I’m so scared for you and God I’m so sorry.”
Tsuna, voice suddenly muffled from hiding his face with his hands as if the darkness wasn’t enough, murmured apology after apology.
“This…”Gokudera contemplated this quietly and with a rising horror. “This isn’t about Yamamoto anymore, is it.”
Tsuna exhaled. “…no. No it isn’t,” he whispered.
“Tenth-”
“I’m sorry.”
“No Tenth-”
“I’m sorry.”
“Tenth, what happened when you met my future self?”
Was his future self wild, suicidal, guilt laden? Did he clamp on to Tsuna’s fifteen-year-old shoulders with his twenty-five-year-old hands and would have let the rings rust to his fingers if it meant he wouldn’t have to let go? Did he crush his forehead into the ground over and over again apologizing, apologizing, with useless bows? Did he hope that they could resurrect the dead and change the past?
In the silence that followed, Tsuna stilled and Gokudera berated himself for being so frank and demanding. Tsuna was obviously in an emotional state right now! How could he be so thoughtless and selfish? “Never mind Tenth!” he said immediately. “You don’t have to answer that if you don’t want to.” Even if the curiosity was scalding him inside.
“No. I-I will. You…” There was movement from above; Tsuna was probably wiping the tears away. He suddenly chuckled. “You look so cool in the future.” Gokudera would have felt the warm glow of pride inside him but now wasn’t the time for that. “We couldn’t speak much. But you, no, he looked horrible. Desperate.” Broken, shattered, dead were the unsaid words but Gokudera could hear them anyway because he felt sick inside even by just imagining that coffin.
“And so,” Tsuna said, determination seeping back into his voice. “I won’t let that happen to you! As soon as we find our way back, I’ll-I’ll…”
He’ll what? Abolish the Vongola family? Give the title of boss to someone else? Replace his guardians with cold, hardened people instead of friends?
Apparently Tsuna didn’t know either.
Suddenly Gokudera remembered the schoolyard, the past. He remembered how Tsuna had saved him from his own explosions, the strength and determination it had taken to defuse each and every one of his bombs with burnt hands. He remembered how he almost let his own worthlessness consume him in the hurricane of a battle against Belphegor, but then Tsuna’s words revealed to him the value of his own life. He remembered fighting, fighting, always fighting.
For, together, with Tsuna.
“We're going to have a snow fight and watch fireworks together! That’s what we’re fighting for!” Tsuna had screamed when Gokudera was on the verge of forgetting their true purpose.
They fought for the small, normal moments, which served as intervals and distractions from the daily violence of the mafia. They fought for the small, normal, seemingly insignificant moments, which served as reminders of something they could never have, yet something that Tsuna desperately wanted for them all.
“I want to laugh with you. And if you die, it will be all for nothing!” And Gokudera thought and remembered and realized how he wouldn’t live any other way other than the way he lived now. And he’d be damned if he would let Tsuna change that, thinking it was for his own good.
“Tenth, I chose this.”
“No Gokudera-kun-”
“No Tenth I chose to follow you, to follow this life.” Gokudera was also sitting up now. These words carried too much to say and take lying down. “I know very well what the dangers are, more so than you can imagine.”
“But-”
“Tenth. Please listen to me.” Tsuna stopped and waited. “We’ll keep getting stronger. We’ll keep protecting everybody. We’ll change this future. We’ll form our own and watch the fireworks together. We’ll make their own way, with our own hands.”
The bump in the mattress relaxed. Tsuna lay down, back to the mattress, eyes to the ceiling, no longer curling into himself.
“You…you swear?” and Gokudera could have sworn that that was the voice of a child and not of the Decimo Boss of the Vongola. Out the corner of his eye, he saw pale skin flash in the darkness. Tsuna dangled his hand over the edge of his bed. There was a question held in the stiffness of those fingers.
Gokudera reached up and took it in his, easily wrapping long fingers around it. “Yes,” he said and meant it completely.
They were both scared of the potential future -the black coffin, the broken right hand man, the scarred and baseball-less Yamamoto- but they would not let the fear of what had not yet happened lead their path. Gokudera would not let Tsuna force him away.
He smiled when Tsuna’s breath became gentle and consistent with sleep and tightened his grasp on the hand, on the person, on the life of whom he held most dear to him.
---
Fanfic notes
OH THE SAP KILLS ME INSIDE.
That is all. Constructive crit appreciated.
---
NEWEST CHAPTER OF REBORN = OMG HIBARI-SAMAAAA ILU. It's so difficult to watch KHR with a certain friend of mine because she picks out EVERYTHING that isn't consistent/well-animated/doesn't make sense and so. Esp in the first few eps when Yamamoto's always like: "Wow tsuna, you really are amazing." and they both break into hysterical laughter.
We both do that now in class.
OKAY. I SHOULD GO LURK OTHER PEOPLE'S LJS NOW.
Fandom: Katekyo Hitman Reborn!
Pairing: protector!5927
Rating: K+/PG
Warnings: TYL arc spoilers, language
Summary: Tsuna reveals his true fears to Gokudera when lying in the bunk bed that first night.
Bunk Beds
Gokudera lay motionless in his bed, watching the imprint of Tsuna’s body shift restlessly on the bunk above him. His throat tightened when Tsuna inhaled deeply through his nose, trying to stifle his sniffles, only to release it in a long, shuddering sob. Gokudera didn’t try to ignore Tsuna’s misery and instead thought over and over again how it was the baseball-freak’s fault, how they all should have been stronger, how he would destroy that guy with the glasses, how dare that bitch order the Tenth around like that, how-
How could have he been so weak?
Gokudera’s grip tightened on his pillow until he could feel his nails biting into his palm. He swallowed when Tsuna let out a particularly piteous moan and he wanted to do something to comfort his Tenth. What use was being the smartest in his class, one of the strongest in their group when he didn’t have a clue how to aid his boss when he needed him most? Gokudera felt the heavy weight of failure settle over him but knew better than to try saying something to Tsuna. “You can definitely do it Tenth!” didn’t feel like the right thing to say anymore. Because if the future Tenth couldn’t do it-
Then how could a weaker Tenth-
No.
Don’t think like that. There must have been something very wrong with Gokudera’s future self for him to fail Tsuna so horribly.
But because this Gokudera was here, here with this Tsuna now, this Tsuna would never lie in that lily-lined coffin. He would make sure of that.
Tsuna’s sniffles finally quieted and Gokudera’s heart ached with uselessness. He wanted to press a hand into the underside of Tsuna’s mattress, just to let him know that his right hand man was there, always there. But Gokudera didn’t dare in case of disturbing him.
“Gokudera-kun?” Tsuna’s voice was heavy with swallowed sobs.
The answer was almost reflex now. “Yes Tenth?” Gokudera replied immediately.
“Y-Yamamoto looks kind of like his dad, d-doesn’t he?”
Gokudera frowned at the subject, but thought about it. “I suppose they do look alike. Their jaw lines are similar.” Thinking about Yamamoto just made Gokudera feel even worse. Yamamoto would know exactly what to do in this situation.
Yamamoto would know what to do and yet he couldn’t protect Tsuna-
Tsuna made a vague noise of agreement, before turning over. The wooden structure of their bed complained loudly at the movement.
“Ah, sorry Gokudera-kun.”
“Please don’t worry Tenth.”
They both shifted in their beds and Gokudera waited for Tsuna’s shaky breath to even out, so he could at least sleep knowing that Tsuna was resting.
“Gokudera-kun?”
“Yes Tenth?”
“He’s very different n-now, isn’t he?”
Yamamoto again? Gokudera didn’t really know how to answer that but was saved from doing so as Tsuna continued. “I mean, I know he’s grown up and more experienced and everything b-but…”
Gokudera could hear Tsuna swallow harshly, even through the sound of Tsuna’s blanket shifting. “I don’t know this Yamamoto. He’s not the same.”
Of course he’s not the same. Nine years and ten months have gone by since their fifteen-year-old Yamamoto could smile and laugh and believe that their ugly world was a game. Nine years and ten months and now twenty-five-year-old Yamamoto would have been forced to realise that nothing had ever been a game. He would have been forced to leave his baseball bat with his memories of raw fish and evenings of sports on the TV. He would have been forced to sleep with an unsheathed sword at his side every night, would have watched the bodies of friends fall, would have buried his father with his own calloused hands, would have helped cushion Tsuna’s coffin with lilies along with Gokudera’s future self -
- and Gokudera’s future self would have suffocated under the weight of failing, shaming, failing, killing, failing his Tenth. He would have visited that black, polished, flawless coffin everyday, only it wasn’t flawless because Tsuna was dead and cold inside it and that was wrongwrongwrong
“He’s not the same Tenth because he had to grow up.” Gokudera had to try to keep his voice gentle. His usual tone that accompanied the baseball-freak’s name wouldn’t help. “Yamamoto can’t be an efficient guardian if he’s an empty airhead.”
Then, so quietly, Gokudera could have missed it if he hadn’t been focusing solely on Tsuna’s breathing -
“Yamamoto shouldn’t be like this. None of you should be like this.”
“Tenth-” Gokudera said immediately, denial at his lips. It was knocked aside as Tsuna ploughed on.
“If everyone wasn’t so focused on the Mafia, they could all have normal lives.”
“Tenth-”
“No Gokudera-kun!” With that exclamation, Gokudera realised the extent to which guilt had burrowed into Tsuna, eating away at his insides. Tsuna sat up in his bed and the imprint of his back in the mattress turned into a solid bump. Gokudera imagined that Tsuna would be curled over his legs, pressing his sweaty forehead into his knees. “This isn’t what they deserve! This isn’t what Yamamoto deserves! He should be playing baseball! He should be helping his dad at the restaurant!” A shaky breath. “He should be dating and not scarred and sad and lonely and old and w-when he first saw me, he was looking at me as if his whole world was right in front of him and, and, and- Oh God Gokudera-kun, I’m sorry. I’m so scared for you and God I’m so sorry.”
Tsuna, voice suddenly muffled from hiding his face with his hands as if the darkness wasn’t enough, murmured apology after apology.
“This…”Gokudera contemplated this quietly and with a rising horror. “This isn’t about Yamamoto anymore, is it.”
Tsuna exhaled. “…no. No it isn’t,” he whispered.
“Tenth-”
“I’m sorry.”
“No Tenth-”
“I’m sorry.”
“Tenth, what happened when you met my future self?”
Was his future self wild, suicidal, guilt laden? Did he clamp on to Tsuna’s fifteen-year-old shoulders with his twenty-five-year-old hands and would have let the rings rust to his fingers if it meant he wouldn’t have to let go? Did he crush his forehead into the ground over and over again apologizing, apologizing, with useless bows? Did he hope that they could resurrect the dead and change the past?
In the silence that followed, Tsuna stilled and Gokudera berated himself for being so frank and demanding. Tsuna was obviously in an emotional state right now! How could he be so thoughtless and selfish? “Never mind Tenth!” he said immediately. “You don’t have to answer that if you don’t want to.” Even if the curiosity was scalding him inside.
“No. I-I will. You…” There was movement from above; Tsuna was probably wiping the tears away. He suddenly chuckled. “You look so cool in the future.” Gokudera would have felt the warm glow of pride inside him but now wasn’t the time for that. “We couldn’t speak much. But you, no, he looked horrible. Desperate.” Broken, shattered, dead were the unsaid words but Gokudera could hear them anyway because he felt sick inside even by just imagining that coffin.
“And so,” Tsuna said, determination seeping back into his voice. “I won’t let that happen to you! As soon as we find our way back, I’ll-I’ll…”
He’ll what? Abolish the Vongola family? Give the title of boss to someone else? Replace his guardians with cold, hardened people instead of friends?
Apparently Tsuna didn’t know either.
Suddenly Gokudera remembered the schoolyard, the past. He remembered how Tsuna had saved him from his own explosions, the strength and determination it had taken to defuse each and every one of his bombs with burnt hands. He remembered how he almost let his own worthlessness consume him in the hurricane of a battle against Belphegor, but then Tsuna’s words revealed to him the value of his own life. He remembered fighting, fighting, always fighting.
For, together, with Tsuna.
“We're going to have a snow fight and watch fireworks together! That’s what we’re fighting for!” Tsuna had screamed when Gokudera was on the verge of forgetting their true purpose.
They fought for the small, normal moments, which served as intervals and distractions from the daily violence of the mafia. They fought for the small, normal, seemingly insignificant moments, which served as reminders of something they could never have, yet something that Tsuna desperately wanted for them all.
“I want to laugh with you. And if you die, it will be all for nothing!” And Gokudera thought and remembered and realized how he wouldn’t live any other way other than the way he lived now. And he’d be damned if he would let Tsuna change that, thinking it was for his own good.
“Tenth, I chose this.”
“No Gokudera-kun-”
“No Tenth I chose to follow you, to follow this life.” Gokudera was also sitting up now. These words carried too much to say and take lying down. “I know very well what the dangers are, more so than you can imagine.”
“But-”
“Tenth. Please listen to me.” Tsuna stopped and waited. “We’ll keep getting stronger. We’ll keep protecting everybody. We’ll change this future. We’ll form our own and watch the fireworks together. We’ll make their own way, with our own hands.”
The bump in the mattress relaxed. Tsuna lay down, back to the mattress, eyes to the ceiling, no longer curling into himself.
“You…you swear?” and Gokudera could have sworn that that was the voice of a child and not of the Decimo Boss of the Vongola. Out the corner of his eye, he saw pale skin flash in the darkness. Tsuna dangled his hand over the edge of his bed. There was a question held in the stiffness of those fingers.
Gokudera reached up and took it in his, easily wrapping long fingers around it. “Yes,” he said and meant it completely.
They were both scared of the potential future -the black coffin, the broken right hand man, the scarred and baseball-less Yamamoto- but they would not let the fear of what had not yet happened lead their path. Gokudera would not let Tsuna force him away.
He smiled when Tsuna’s breath became gentle and consistent with sleep and tightened his grasp on the hand, on the person, on the life of whom he held most dear to him.
---
Fanfic notes
OH THE SAP KILLS ME INSIDE.
That is all. Constructive crit appreciated.
---
NEWEST CHAPTER OF REBORN = OMG HIBARI-SAMAAAA ILU. It's so difficult to watch KHR with a certain friend of mine because she picks out EVERYTHING that isn't consistent/well-animated/doesn't make sense and so. Esp in the first few eps when Yamamoto's always like: "Wow tsuna, you really are amazing." and they both break into hysterical laughter.
We both do that now in class.
OKAY. I SHOULD GO LURK OTHER PEOPLE'S LJS NOW.