Sidetracked
By xxkoffeexx
.
Disclaimer: I don't own, except maybe the random target our favorite hitman (not Reborn) is supposed to take down.
Summary: The target is in sight. Failure is not an option. But one girl just might throw all his plans out the window. YamamotoxHaru.
A/N: For Garowyn, who is no doubt studying very hard right now. I wrote this hoping it would relieve your stress just a little bit.
.
Subway stations were the worst places to track down an enemy. Crowded subways were even worse.
Yamamoto kept his eye on the target's blue hat, unmindful of the sea of people pushing and squeezing through the station. Failure to complete this mission was unacceptable. Too many revenues and Family politics and innocent deaths would be wasted. And most importantly, Tsuna would be disappointed.
So the high school Mafioso ignored deeply-ingrained etiquette and pushed through the crowd, the single objective of keeping the blue hat in sight superseding the indignant yelps and nasty glares in his wake.
The shrill ringing of the bell alerted the incoming train, a recorded voice announcing passengers to please stay behind the yellow strip until it came to a complete stop. If possible, the swarm of people became like a pack of sardines, forcing Yamamoto to halt. He craned his neck and bit off a curse, glimpsing blue moving slowly but steadily further down the station. The bastard knew he was being chased.
"For your safety, please stay behind the yellow line—" The screech of the train coasting to a stop only blended with the furious cries and startled yelps as Yamamoto redoubled his efforts to close the distance between him and his target. People were flowing into the train, and Yamamoto braced himself against the tide buffeting his body.
And much to his chagrin, the blue hat ducked into the train.
Without hesitation Yamamoto threw himself into the nearest car, ignoring the dirty looks nearby passengers shot him as he shoved right past them. It had taken a week of surveillance, several dead ends and a lot of bribe money before Vongola intelligence finally located the troublemaker. It would take more than glares and curses to slow Yamamoto down.
He kept a hand on his disguised katana and moved quickly through the packed train, opening each door that linked the cars and generally pissing off the already agitated riders. Finally, he arrived at the very last car, spotting the blue hat squished in the corner and ending the arduous chase.
Found you.
As soon as the train came to a stop, Yamamoto would drag the miserable rat into a dark alley and neuter him. It was horribly cliché and Mukuro would probably mock him for his unoriginality, but after sliding past countless bodies and touching arms and shoulders and other body parts and probably getting groped in return, Yamamoto simply did not care. Patient he may be, but even he had his limits.
His eyes narrowed, calculating the time remaining before the next stop and how fast he could reach the target without knocking everybody down, unaware of the soft tap on his arm.
"Hahi. Yamamoto-san?"
Yamamoto slowly turned at the stunned familiar voice, desperately hoping he heard incorrectly and was just imagining the slender dark-haired girl blinking up at him. No such luck. "Hey, Haru." His mouth stretched into a forced sort of smile as he greeted her amiably.
She was standing a little closer to him than was socially proper because of the circumstances, but that didn't diminish the happy smile on her face. As the train swayed her arm bumped his, making her smile apologetically. "It's very crowded," she remarked in an attempt at small talk.
"It is." He kept his face nonchalant as he shifted his stance so there was more than a few inches between them, but an elbow dug into his back, preventing him from budging any further.
"I was just shopping with some friends," Haru continued cheerfully, holding a large brand name bag with pink tissue paper sticking out of it. "What brings Yamamoto-san all the way out here?"
"Just some business." He twisted his head to see over the heads at his "business," mentally gauging the remaining time before the train stopped, when there was a sudden jerk. The train lurched slightly, making the passengers stumble and teeter into Yamamoto. He managed to stay steady, but Haru bumped straight into him, crying out slightly in surprise. Automatically his hand came up to support her, the other hand remaining firm on his katana. The few meager inches he'd painfully created was effectively shattered in a split second.
Haru's free hand was also clutching his shoulder for balance, her pretty face slightly flushed. "I'm sorry, I'm not really good at—" The train lurched again, and the irritated passengers staggered against the seats and each other, including Haru and Yamamoto.
He gritted his teeth and put one leg back to balance himself, ignoring the various limbs pressing into his back in favor of the girl who was pressed fully against his front. Instinctively, not willingly and certainly not appropriately, his hand slid down to her lower back as the train bumped some more.
"Hahi," he heard her squeak, her voice muffled by his chest. Somewhere below, her shopping bag crinkled between them. "Sorry!" She really did sound dismayed, and he tried to sound pleasant even though the strain was obvious in his face.
"It's okay, I don't mind." The bad part was he actually liked the way she was forced to lean against him, but he shoved the thought away because this was not the time to be a teenager.
The train was calm now and Haru cautiously leaned back so she could look up into his face. Her warm eyes were wide and uncertain and wisps of brown locks fell on her forehead. "This is embarrassing. I've never fell on anybody in the subway before."
He gave her a reassuring smile. "It happens to everyone."
"Not Yamamoto-san," she pointed out glumly.
"I've had practice," he said absently, glancing over the heads to see the blue hat trying to edge towars the exit. It was time to make his move. "Well, this is my stop—"
It seemed the train had other ideas, because it rocked violently, careening all the passengers in one direction. There were cries of alarm and startled gasps (and one shrill cry of "Pervert!") as everyone grabbed at something to hold onto, and Yamamoto was no exception.
Haru was all but thrown into him, her body neatly molding against his for a mind-blowing ten seconds, and this time Yamamoto made an odd sound as he was forced to stagger back into a hard metal pole. The cool, professional side of him was irked by this untimely interruption. The hormonal male part of him was inconveniently excited, and it was this side that was currently winning.
"Hahi…" She was definitely mortified now, if the fiery blush in her cheeks was any indication. "I'm so sorry Yamamoto-san." It didn't help that her leg was locked between his or that her soft chest was flattened against his own, her girlish warmth melting into his skin like fire.
He struggled not to let the battle within show on his face as he forced out politely, "It's not your fault." If anything, it was his for being a guy.
She bit her lip, wriggling a bit so she could move away with little success. "I think I can—"
"Wait," he said, a little desperately, pinning her shoulder in place. "No."
"But you're uncomfortable," she insisted.
His fingers squeezed minutely and he gave her a tight smile. "I'm fine, Haru. Just… don't move."
Mercifully, she stopped moving.
Yamamoto felt the bodies around him jostling and pushing for the exit, and he allowed himself a moment of relief. He relaxed his hold on her, feeling a little guilty for gripping so hard, and waited for the excitement in his blood to die down.
Damned hormones. His confidence in his body's ability to perform was beginning to waver. A proper Mafioso and hitman would never allow himself to be distracted, no matter what or who the circumstances. The doors slid shut and the woman's voice announced the next destination.
Belated realization struck him, just as Haru said, "Hahi, wasn't this your stop?"
As the train started again, Yamamoto spied a familiar blue hat outside the windows moving quickly towards the station exit, and his eyes shut tightly. He was going to pull another all-nighter hunting down the target.
As if enjoying his predicament, the train lurched viciously and Haru's soft body flew into his unprepared arms, her warmth invitingly crushed against his torso. Multiple un-Yamamoto-like expletives raced through his head, even as the excitement surged once more.
Forget neutering. The bastard was going to pay for this.
.
Two days later, Vongola the Tenth was relieved and concerned when his Rain Guardian reported to headquarters with the confirmed elimination of his target. Even the Storm Guardian, for all his rivalry, noticed the unusually tense Yamamoto Takeshi.
When questioned, the high school Mafioso just smiled oddly and stated he would never stake out at a subway ever again.
.
END
.
A/N: Sorry Yamamoto. I had a lot of fun writing this at your expense.
Hope you all enjoyed reading too! XD