KHR: Return on Investment [Chapter Seven]
Taking time out from a Extremely Boring Class to update this fic~
KATEKYO HITMAN REBORN!: Return on Investment
Chapter Seven: Rest easy, soldier.
Theme Song: Download link to follow~
Other Chapter Links: Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16
Rating: PG, for implications and naked butts
Characters: Yamamoto Takeshi, Hibari Kyouya and some appearances (and phone calls) from the others)
Summary: Psalm 3:00 AM.
Notes: This longfic was my NaNoWriMo project for 2008, although I've actually been itching to write it ever since I returned to the fandom early on this year. It's meant to take place ten years into the new future created by Tsuna and his crew after the TYL arc, and is slightly AU-ish with several details. The title of this chapter is taken from the 31_days theme for April 25, 2008.
Also: this chapter is dedicated to morphaileffect, whose 8018 fanfic serves as the rough basis for my own take on the pairing. ♥
Chapter Seven. Rest easy, soldier.
Puerto Princesa City, Palawan Island, Philippines.
It was still dark out by the time Yamamoto opened his eyes. He threw an arm out over the space beside him, fingers groping for the tell-tale dents and traces of warmth left behind by another. The pillow smelled of cigarettes and something sharp and cool. He looked past it, towards the bedside table; the clock read 3:22 AM. Yamamoto pushed himself up on his arms with a drawn-out yawn. “You changed your shampoo,” he said, addressing the only other person in the room. Predictably, the only response he received was the sound of Hibari typing.
A sudden movement caught Yamamoto’s attention. The man looked up in time to see Hibird fluttering down from somewhere, twittering out a happy little tune that he had never heard before. The swordsman grinned and stretched out his finger; the bird landed and twittered again, hopping unto his shoulder the moment he drew it close to his body. It still remembered him, apparently.
“You really bring this guy everywhere, don’t you?”
“He has his uses.”
Hibari was curled up in the chair by the dresser, typing away, focused on the computer screen in front of him. Only somebody like Hibari could look completely professional in nothing but his briefs and a dinky t-shirt, Yamamoto found himself thinking. This wild-haired, quiet-eyed person could kill him, and his loyalties to the Family weren’t enough to stop him from doing it, if he really wanted to. It took a great effort on Yamamoto’s part to remember that, especially when he was could still remember about how lean and bony Hibari’s shoulders looked in the darkness of a bedroom, or how small his wrists had been in his hands.
“You’re thinner now. Have you been eating right?”
“I eat enough.”
All business, now that he was satisfied. Yamamoto didn’t mind. At least a good round of slow, drawn-out fucking always made Hibari somewhat receptive to carrying out a normal conversation. The swordsman stood up, yawning again, stretching wide; he picked up his pants and slipped them on before wandering over to the fridge in the corner. He could bother himself with finding his shirt, taking a shower and maybe looking decent later. Hibird dutifully migrated from his fingers to his shoulder as he rummaged through the fridge, cross-checking what the hotel offered with how much it was going to cost them later.
“Girls,” said Hibari, as Yamamoto was trying to decide whether he wanted a can of peanuts or a big bag of M&Ms.
“Eh?” the swordsman pulled his head out of the fridge, staring at Hibari questioningly.
“You said ‘girls’ earlier.” The typing stopped. Hibari leveled him with another look. “Who came with you?”
“Ah. Haru picked me up,” Yamamoto replied, turning back to the fridge. “We drove down to Namimori to fetch Kyoko-chan and Hana-san.” The swordsman closed the door, bringing out a bag of peanuts, a bottle of Gatorade and the large, half-empty bottle of jasmine tea that Hibari must have brought with him, for his own consumption. He picked up a glass and walked over. “The train wasn’t an option,” he explained. “We had stuff with us.”
“Hm.”
Yamamoto set the tea and the glass down on Hibari’s desk. “Don’t even start, Kyouya,” he said teasingly, rounding back to the bed. “I didn’t come all the way here just for you to tell me that you won’t come home with a crowd on your heels.”
“No, I will come. Sawada is paying, is he not?”
“Mercenary.”
Yamamoto threw himself back unto the bed, popping his bottle of Gatorade open. He fished some peanuts out and crushed them, setting the smaller bits down on his hand for Hibird. The little bird twittered its thanks and hopped about, pecking at the food. Yamamoto watched the bird with some fondness, occasionally stroking that small, warm body gently with his fingers. The typing started up again, over in Hibari’s corner of the room.
“Gokudera Hayato is not with you.”
Yamamoto’s fingers paused. He did not even realize that he had stopped until the bird tilted its head, blinking up at him with black, beady eyes. The swordsman wondered if he was smiling. He probably was. Smiling, for him, was a part of dealing.
“Are you surprised?”
“No.”
In grade school, Hibari was the half-feral kitten that Yamamoto would bring out of the rain at least twice a week, patch up (bandage up like a mummy) and sleep beside, only to wake up to an empty futon and an open window. When they met again in middle school, Hibari pretended that they did not know each other and Yamamoto was forced to ride along with it up until the latter’s attempted suicide brought Tsuna and Gokudera into his life, and their associations with Reborn sparked Hibari’s interest enough to keep the prefect hovering just within their peripheral vision. The relating-by-not-relating-much-at-all became the norm for the early half of the mafia game, but the Ring Battles against the Varia changed things, mostly because Dino had popped up and Yamamoto first realized just how much Gokudera loved Tsuna and just how much he envied it. It was after their trip to the future that they decided to start sleeping together, and the arrangement proved beneficial to the both of them when Hibari’s activities with the yakuza and Yamamoto’s assignments from Tsuna started to intersect at the most convenient times. That Yamamoto was one of the few Guardians whom Hibari could stand brought them together even more.
“Fucking to scratch an itch,” Hibari had called it, after they had gone on their first “real date” (non-sexual encounter) at the old batting range in downtown Namimori. They had not talked about whatever they might have discussed or heard from their future selves, even if it was clear that the shadow of their influence determined so much of their present (it came out, instead, in small, off-handed comments in the years to follow). Their arrangement was something that Hibari deemed practical because it had no strings attached: they screwed around whenever they needed it, and after they were done he could go back to not thinking about Dino Cavallone and Yamamoto could go back to watching Gokudera Hayato kill himself over Tsuna. They fucked because it was a biological need, because Dino had taught Hibari to like fucking as much as he liked fighting, because Yamamoto could not be with Gokudera and if he didn’t fuck those feelings out, they were bound to drive him crazy and cause problems for the Family in the future.
What Yamamoto never told Hibari was that he believed that they slept together because they trusted each other, because maybe they could have been something if both of them had not ended up somewhere else looking at other people, because he was capable of loving a lot of people with the same kind of intensity and warmth all at the same time, because he had seen Hibari with Dino and seen Hibari without Dino and from that, he knew that he wasn’t the only one who wasn’t getting what he wanted. Hibari, however, had pride the size of Japan and then some - that was the main reason why Yamamoto never said anything. Beyond that, Yamamoto already realized how fortunate he was to stay as close to the man as he was. Pushing too much was forcing Hibari to go somewhere that he did not want to go to, and that usually resulted in black eyes, broken bones and alarming radio silence until Hibari figured that it was time to scratch that old itch and they ended up starting all over again.
“I wonder what we’ll be doing when we get back to Italy,” Yamamoto said, as he went back to fussing over Hibird. “We’ve got lots of time before the wedding… I’m sure that we won’t be busy with wedding plans every day.”
“Why are you so cheerful about it? You left for a reason.”
“Actually, I’m not sure I ever really left at all.”
“…Hm.”
Hibari was lighting up another cigarette; the ashtray beside his keyboard was already overflowing with old butts. Yamamoto watched the other man, wondering how many packs his fellow Guardian smoked a day. The Cloud Guardian had started the habit sometime after they had returned from the future, meriting a couple of snide comments from Gokudera (of all people) about the ironies of an anal-retentive prefect breaking his own rules. Yamamoto had not really been surprised. He remembered spotting Dino smoking before, on several different occasions.
“So I guess you’ll be going to Tuscany once we land.”
“No. I have business to attend to in Venice.”
“…Oh?” Venice was a long way from the Tuscan region, which was an area traditionally controlled by the Cavallone Family. “What sort of business?”
Slow drag, exhale. Hibari turned back to his computer screen and began typing again.
“Go to sleep, Takeshi.”
He saw it again, that subtle shift in the light within Hibari’s eyes just before the man looked away from him, the way he seemed to bring that cigarette up to his lips in order to measure out silence. Yamamoto figured that maybe he could let it go for the moment. They had spent one whole evening and then some fighting together, walking together, fucking, talking - that was too much, too soon. He could not risk another long period of silence and nothing between them, not when he knew what he might face the moment they arrived in Italy.
Yamamoto coaxed Hibird unto his hand and set the little guy down on the table before settling back unto the bed. Hibari’s spot had grown cold already, chilled by the regulated air pouring in from the air conditioner. He lay back, watching Hibari at work for but a moment longer. It was strange how distant the other man looked, even if he was just a few steps away.
“Good night, Kyouya.”
He reached over and turned off the light.
6:15 AM.
“…So they were useless, huh.”
“Not entirely.”
Spanner had replaced his usual “mystery flavor” lollipops with mangoes since their landing in the Philippines - he was eating one at that moment, as he communicated with Hibari via webcam. Hibari, on the other hand, had nothing but his cigarettes and the remnants of his jasmine tea. Hibird was napping on his head, nestled comfortably within his hair.
“My contacts will take care of sending the larger shipments to your laboratories. My report should already been in your inbox.”
“Mm, I already checked it. I guess that means that we’ll both be free for Vongola in his dire time of need.”
“Sawada does not need me to hold his hand before his wedding.”
“Heh, well. That’s going to be Mr. Right Hand Man’s job, isn’t it?”
“Gokudera Hayato likes to think it is.” A pop-up message flashed onto screen, informing Hibari of another call. The man would recognize that number anywhere. “…We will talk later.”
“Roger.”
Hibari ended the communication, and paused for a good, long moment, watching the pop-up message without reading any of the words, listening to the notification ring in his ear like something worse than an actual telephone. The man’s fingers twitched over the mouse button, just short of shutting his computer down. It would have been the smarter, less hassling thing to do. Hence, Hibari wondered what had possessed him to answer the call, especially when he found himself staring into a familiar pair of warm eyes through a liquid crystal screen.
“…And here I was, thinking that you’d never pick up.”
“You are wasting my time, Cavallone.”
“I know.”
“If you knew, then why did you call?”
“I wanted to hear your voice.”
Hibari chose not to answer because it was easier to do so. In the meantime, Yamamoto rolled unto his side and mumbled in his sleep.
9:04 AM.
“Hey.”
Yamamoto groaned when he felt Hibari prodding him awake. He felt as though he had only closed his eyes seconds ago.
“Wake up.”
“Ngh. Jus’ a little longer…”
The swordsman rolled over, trying to get away from the other Guardian’s touch. Barely a minute later, Yamamoto let out a surprised yelp as he was quite rudely deposited, flailing limbs and blankets and all, unto the floor. He found himself very much awake and blinking up at Hibari, who was looking down at him with disdain.
“Our plane is leaving in an hour.”
“Huh. Already?”
Hibari answered him by reaching for the shades hanging from the breast pocket of his suit and walking off. Yamamoto scrambled up, looking around: the hotel room was completely bare. There wasn’t a trace of any of the stuff that had been scattered all over the place only a few hours ago.
“Whoa. Did you sleep at all?”
“I told you to get dressed.”
Hibari turned away, pulling a cigarette out with his teeth as he left the room. Yamamoto sighed and started picking up the rest of his clothes from the floor; he stepped into the bathroom, snagging a towel from the rack. He could finish up in fifteen minutes - he was pretty positive that Hibari was going to leave him behind if he took any longer than that.
Yamamoto was not particularly surprised to find Kusakabe Tetsuya standing with Hibari in the lobby, zeroing in on his leader’s orders and scribbling down notes whenever he had to; he had probably come in from Coron acting on Hibari’s instructions, to handle whatever the latter could not be bothered with. Kusakabe acknowledged Yamamoto with a smile and a brief dip of his head once the swordsman was close enough, and then promptly walked off to fulfill to do his job. Unfortunately, that left him to deal with one foul-tempered Cloud Guardian.
“C’mon, you can’t be THAT annoyed at having to fly with all of us to Italy, can you?”
He was fully aware that the mandatory crowding was not the real reason why Hibari looked like he was going to rip the first thing (or person) that earned his ire that day apart - as much as the man was barely tolerant of other people, it was a small issue, made smaller yet by his age. There was something else, something that Hibari was not going to talk about, something that Yamamoto could try to force out by mentioning stupid things and hoping that Hibari, in his irritation, would bite. Hibari, however, did not end up biting: the other man merely lit up his cigarette and left Yamamoto standing there without a word.
The silence remained unbroken throughout the drive to the airport, the plane to Coron, the jeepney ride to Krystal Lodge and all the way up to them walking across the planks to the cabin where Spanner and Hana were watching Kyoko and Haru play a native game involving a strange wooden board with hollowed out portions and tiny little shells.
“We’re finally complete!” Haru exclaimed, clapping her hands together. “Good thing too, because I just got off the phone with Gokudera-kun… the jet that’ll take us home is already waiting for us back in Manila.” She straightened herself up when she turned to face Hibari, switching from easygoing young woman to Vongola consigliore within a fraction of a second. “It’s good to have you back on board, Hibari-san.”
“…Hn.”
“He’s still as social as ever, isn’t he?” Spanner drawled after Hibari had stalked off. Yamamoto chuckled. His eyes, however, were fixed on Hibari’s back. Another dismissal.
“He had a long night.”
KATEKYO HITMAN REBORN!: Return on Investment
Chapter Seven: Rest easy, soldier.
Theme Song: Download link to follow~
Other Chapter Links: Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16
Rating: PG, for implications and naked butts
Characters: Yamamoto Takeshi, Hibari Kyouya and some appearances (and phone calls) from the others)
Summary: Psalm 3:00 AM.
Notes: This longfic was my NaNoWriMo project for 2008, although I've actually been itching to write it ever since I returned to the fandom early on this year. It's meant to take place ten years into the new future created by Tsuna and his crew after the TYL arc, and is slightly AU-ish with several details. The title of this chapter is taken from the 31_days theme for April 25, 2008.
Also: this chapter is dedicated to morphaileffect, whose 8018 fanfic serves as the rough basis for my own take on the pairing. ♥
Chapter Seven. Rest easy, soldier.
Puerto Princesa City, Palawan Island, Philippines.
It was still dark out by the time Yamamoto opened his eyes. He threw an arm out over the space beside him, fingers groping for the tell-tale dents and traces of warmth left behind by another. The pillow smelled of cigarettes and something sharp and cool. He looked past it, towards the bedside table; the clock read 3:22 AM. Yamamoto pushed himself up on his arms with a drawn-out yawn. “You changed your shampoo,” he said, addressing the only other person in the room. Predictably, the only response he received was the sound of Hibari typing.
A sudden movement caught Yamamoto’s attention. The man looked up in time to see Hibird fluttering down from somewhere, twittering out a happy little tune that he had never heard before. The swordsman grinned and stretched out his finger; the bird landed and twittered again, hopping unto his shoulder the moment he drew it close to his body. It still remembered him, apparently.
“You really bring this guy everywhere, don’t you?”
“He has his uses.”
Hibari was curled up in the chair by the dresser, typing away, focused on the computer screen in front of him. Only somebody like Hibari could look completely professional in nothing but his briefs and a dinky t-shirt, Yamamoto found himself thinking. This wild-haired, quiet-eyed person could kill him, and his loyalties to the Family weren’t enough to stop him from doing it, if he really wanted to. It took a great effort on Yamamoto’s part to remember that, especially when he was could still remember about how lean and bony Hibari’s shoulders looked in the darkness of a bedroom, or how small his wrists had been in his hands.
“You’re thinner now. Have you been eating right?”
“I eat enough.”
All business, now that he was satisfied. Yamamoto didn’t mind. At least a good round of slow, drawn-out fucking always made Hibari somewhat receptive to carrying out a normal conversation. The swordsman stood up, yawning again, stretching wide; he picked up his pants and slipped them on before wandering over to the fridge in the corner. He could bother himself with finding his shirt, taking a shower and maybe looking decent later. Hibird dutifully migrated from his fingers to his shoulder as he rummaged through the fridge, cross-checking what the hotel offered with how much it was going to cost them later.
“Girls,” said Hibari, as Yamamoto was trying to decide whether he wanted a can of peanuts or a big bag of M&Ms.
“Eh?” the swordsman pulled his head out of the fridge, staring at Hibari questioningly.
“You said ‘girls’ earlier.” The typing stopped. Hibari leveled him with another look. “Who came with you?”
“Ah. Haru picked me up,” Yamamoto replied, turning back to the fridge. “We drove down to Namimori to fetch Kyoko-chan and Hana-san.” The swordsman closed the door, bringing out a bag of peanuts, a bottle of Gatorade and the large, half-empty bottle of jasmine tea that Hibari must have brought with him, for his own consumption. He picked up a glass and walked over. “The train wasn’t an option,” he explained. “We had stuff with us.”
“Hm.”
Yamamoto set the tea and the glass down on Hibari’s desk. “Don’t even start, Kyouya,” he said teasingly, rounding back to the bed. “I didn’t come all the way here just for you to tell me that you won’t come home with a crowd on your heels.”
“No, I will come. Sawada is paying, is he not?”
“Mercenary.”
Yamamoto threw himself back unto the bed, popping his bottle of Gatorade open. He fished some peanuts out and crushed them, setting the smaller bits down on his hand for Hibird. The little bird twittered its thanks and hopped about, pecking at the food. Yamamoto watched the bird with some fondness, occasionally stroking that small, warm body gently with his fingers. The typing started up again, over in Hibari’s corner of the room.
“Gokudera Hayato is not with you.”
Yamamoto’s fingers paused. He did not even realize that he had stopped until the bird tilted its head, blinking up at him with black, beady eyes. The swordsman wondered if he was smiling. He probably was. Smiling, for him, was a part of dealing.
“Are you surprised?”
“No.”
In grade school, Hibari was the half-feral kitten that Yamamoto would bring out of the rain at least twice a week, patch up (bandage up like a mummy) and sleep beside, only to wake up to an empty futon and an open window. When they met again in middle school, Hibari pretended that they did not know each other and Yamamoto was forced to ride along with it up until the latter’s attempted suicide brought Tsuna and Gokudera into his life, and their associations with Reborn sparked Hibari’s interest enough to keep the prefect hovering just within their peripheral vision. The relating-by-not-relating-much-at-all became the norm for the early half of the mafia game, but the Ring Battles against the Varia changed things, mostly because Dino had popped up and Yamamoto first realized just how much Gokudera loved Tsuna and just how much he envied it. It was after their trip to the future that they decided to start sleeping together, and the arrangement proved beneficial to the both of them when Hibari’s activities with the yakuza and Yamamoto’s assignments from Tsuna started to intersect at the most convenient times. That Yamamoto was one of the few Guardians whom Hibari could stand brought them together even more.
“Fucking to scratch an itch,” Hibari had called it, after they had gone on their first “real date” (non-sexual encounter) at the old batting range in downtown Namimori. They had not talked about whatever they might have discussed or heard from their future selves, even if it was clear that the shadow of their influence determined so much of their present (it came out, instead, in small, off-handed comments in the years to follow). Their arrangement was something that Hibari deemed practical because it had no strings attached: they screwed around whenever they needed it, and after they were done he could go back to not thinking about Dino Cavallone and Yamamoto could go back to watching Gokudera Hayato kill himself over Tsuna. They fucked because it was a biological need, because Dino had taught Hibari to like fucking as much as he liked fighting, because Yamamoto could not be with Gokudera and if he didn’t fuck those feelings out, they were bound to drive him crazy and cause problems for the Family in the future.
What Yamamoto never told Hibari was that he believed that they slept together because they trusted each other, because maybe they could have been something if both of them had not ended up somewhere else looking at other people, because he was capable of loving a lot of people with the same kind of intensity and warmth all at the same time, because he had seen Hibari with Dino and seen Hibari without Dino and from that, he knew that he wasn’t the only one who wasn’t getting what he wanted. Hibari, however, had pride the size of Japan and then some - that was the main reason why Yamamoto never said anything. Beyond that, Yamamoto already realized how fortunate he was to stay as close to the man as he was. Pushing too much was forcing Hibari to go somewhere that he did not want to go to, and that usually resulted in black eyes, broken bones and alarming radio silence until Hibari figured that it was time to scratch that old itch and they ended up starting all over again.
“I wonder what we’ll be doing when we get back to Italy,” Yamamoto said, as he went back to fussing over Hibird. “We’ve got lots of time before the wedding… I’m sure that we won’t be busy with wedding plans every day.”
“Why are you so cheerful about it? You left for a reason.”
“Actually, I’m not sure I ever really left at all.”
“…Hm.”
Hibari was lighting up another cigarette; the ashtray beside his keyboard was already overflowing with old butts. Yamamoto watched the other man, wondering how many packs his fellow Guardian smoked a day. The Cloud Guardian had started the habit sometime after they had returned from the future, meriting a couple of snide comments from Gokudera (of all people) about the ironies of an anal-retentive prefect breaking his own rules. Yamamoto had not really been surprised. He remembered spotting Dino smoking before, on several different occasions.
“So I guess you’ll be going to Tuscany once we land.”
“No. I have business to attend to in Venice.”
“…Oh?” Venice was a long way from the Tuscan region, which was an area traditionally controlled by the Cavallone Family. “What sort of business?”
Slow drag, exhale. Hibari turned back to his computer screen and began typing again.
“Go to sleep, Takeshi.”
He saw it again, that subtle shift in the light within Hibari’s eyes just before the man looked away from him, the way he seemed to bring that cigarette up to his lips in order to measure out silence. Yamamoto figured that maybe he could let it go for the moment. They had spent one whole evening and then some fighting together, walking together, fucking, talking - that was too much, too soon. He could not risk another long period of silence and nothing between them, not when he knew what he might face the moment they arrived in Italy.
Yamamoto coaxed Hibird unto his hand and set the little guy down on the table before settling back unto the bed. Hibari’s spot had grown cold already, chilled by the regulated air pouring in from the air conditioner. He lay back, watching Hibari at work for but a moment longer. It was strange how distant the other man looked, even if he was just a few steps away.
“Good night, Kyouya.”
He reached over and turned off the light.
6:15 AM.
“…So they were useless, huh.”
“Not entirely.”
Spanner had replaced his usual “mystery flavor” lollipops with mangoes since their landing in the Philippines - he was eating one at that moment, as he communicated with Hibari via webcam. Hibari, on the other hand, had nothing but his cigarettes and the remnants of his jasmine tea. Hibird was napping on his head, nestled comfortably within his hair.
“My contacts will take care of sending the larger shipments to your laboratories. My report should already been in your inbox.”
“Mm, I already checked it. I guess that means that we’ll both be free for Vongola in his dire time of need.”
“Sawada does not need me to hold his hand before his wedding.”
“Heh, well. That’s going to be Mr. Right Hand Man’s job, isn’t it?”
“Gokudera Hayato likes to think it is.” A pop-up message flashed onto screen, informing Hibari of another call. The man would recognize that number anywhere. “…We will talk later.”
“Roger.”
Hibari ended the communication, and paused for a good, long moment, watching the pop-up message without reading any of the words, listening to the notification ring in his ear like something worse than an actual telephone. The man’s fingers twitched over the mouse button, just short of shutting his computer down. It would have been the smarter, less hassling thing to do. Hence, Hibari wondered what had possessed him to answer the call, especially when he found himself staring into a familiar pair of warm eyes through a liquid crystal screen.
“…And here I was, thinking that you’d never pick up.”
“You are wasting my time, Cavallone.”
“I know.”
“If you knew, then why did you call?”
“I wanted to hear your voice.”
Hibari chose not to answer because it was easier to do so. In the meantime, Yamamoto rolled unto his side and mumbled in his sleep.
9:04 AM.
“Hey.”
Yamamoto groaned when he felt Hibari prodding him awake. He felt as though he had only closed his eyes seconds ago.
“Wake up.”
“Ngh. Jus’ a little longer…”
The swordsman rolled over, trying to get away from the other Guardian’s touch. Barely a minute later, Yamamoto let out a surprised yelp as he was quite rudely deposited, flailing limbs and blankets and all, unto the floor. He found himself very much awake and blinking up at Hibari, who was looking down at him with disdain.
“Our plane is leaving in an hour.”
“Huh. Already?”
Hibari answered him by reaching for the shades hanging from the breast pocket of his suit and walking off. Yamamoto scrambled up, looking around: the hotel room was completely bare. There wasn’t a trace of any of the stuff that had been scattered all over the place only a few hours ago.
“Whoa. Did you sleep at all?”
“I told you to get dressed.”
Hibari turned away, pulling a cigarette out with his teeth as he left the room. Yamamoto sighed and started picking up the rest of his clothes from the floor; he stepped into the bathroom, snagging a towel from the rack. He could finish up in fifteen minutes - he was pretty positive that Hibari was going to leave him behind if he took any longer than that.
Yamamoto was not particularly surprised to find Kusakabe Tetsuya standing with Hibari in the lobby, zeroing in on his leader’s orders and scribbling down notes whenever he had to; he had probably come in from Coron acting on Hibari’s instructions, to handle whatever the latter could not be bothered with. Kusakabe acknowledged Yamamoto with a smile and a brief dip of his head once the swordsman was close enough, and then promptly walked off to fulfill to do his job. Unfortunately, that left him to deal with one foul-tempered Cloud Guardian.
“C’mon, you can’t be THAT annoyed at having to fly with all of us to Italy, can you?”
He was fully aware that the mandatory crowding was not the real reason why Hibari looked like he was going to rip the first thing (or person) that earned his ire that day apart - as much as the man was barely tolerant of other people, it was a small issue, made smaller yet by his age. There was something else, something that Hibari was not going to talk about, something that Yamamoto could try to force out by mentioning stupid things and hoping that Hibari, in his irritation, would bite. Hibari, however, did not end up biting: the other man merely lit up his cigarette and left Yamamoto standing there without a word.
The silence remained unbroken throughout the drive to the airport, the plane to Coron, the jeepney ride to Krystal Lodge and all the way up to them walking across the planks to the cabin where Spanner and Hana were watching Kyoko and Haru play a native game involving a strange wooden board with hollowed out portions and tiny little shells.
“We’re finally complete!” Haru exclaimed, clapping her hands together. “Good thing too, because I just got off the phone with Gokudera-kun… the jet that’ll take us home is already waiting for us back in Manila.” She straightened herself up when she turned to face Hibari, switching from easygoing young woman to Vongola consigliore within a fraction of a second. “It’s good to have you back on board, Hibari-san.”
“…Hn.”
“He’s still as social as ever, isn’t he?” Spanner drawled after Hibari had stalked off. Yamamoto chuckled. His eyes, however, were fixed on Hibari’s back. Another dismissal.
“He had a long night.”