Vigil
He was a vortex. They could go off as far as they wanted to but they'll always come back to the same soft smile and gentle(firm) eyes and they'd find each other again. Hello, hello, how are you. Life's been easy and good and it's all right, could've been worse, haha, but it's all right. But death was a stronger vortex that stopped for him and pulled him way into the deep; into a place they couldn't follow, a much-seeked for ground that's always out of their reach.
New scene: four individuals in a quiet blue room. A ghost, a smiling entity of calm and not-calm, an angry, lonely boy and a hawk-like predator threatening to bite everyone to death. Bored and scared.
Now: a pause to applaud the lone boy who now approaches a grand piano with nothing more than nostalgia underneath his breath.
Cue a voice.
"Are you gonna play now, Gokudera..?" smiling Yamamoto.
And nothing else matters anymore, not right now anyway, so Gokudera hums and hums and walks and reaches out to the piano's ivory keys and plays, ripping mock-classical notes from the piano itself. He was breathing and humming and striking the keys, letting Bach and Beethoven and Debussy explode within the room.
Tenth, this is for you.
"The idea, of course," he'd heard Mukuro say faintly, very faintly, like a dream in the background, "is to burn as much as you want so that it can reach the heavens and know that you're here."
Hibari was quiet. Yamamoto laughs, a cheerful broken sound echoing amidst the discord of the piano that's spewing out notes and notes and notes of music and chaos; the angry striking and ripping of music and souls.
"That's a really cool idea. I've never heard of that."
"Of course you haven't, you idiot." Gokudera. "Idiot" said rather affectionately now. Things are changing and the ripping of music and sound and souls were getting harsher, louder.
"Well, I wasn't as smart as you, Gokudera…"
The boy finishes playing with keys and notes and lights another fag. Smoke rises and suffocates Gokudera, but that's okay, because right now he'd really rather suffocate in smoke and ash than have his mind linger on to things he'd rather not linger on. Such as a shiny varnished coffin, a frozen smile, a dead name.
Mukuro makes himself useful and picks a bottle of whiskey from the nearby fridge. They pass the bottle around, taking turns and deep swallows of necessary poison and the night is steeped with alcohol and loss, loss, that painful feeling of loss.
Hibari is silent, because there are other abysmal ways of expressing loss, such as biting skins and breaking souls and bones.
--
'Burnt out' was a good term to use to describe them right now. Or 'tired' and 'broken' will be the other words, but they're too proud to admit that. Despite the fact that they were completely out of focus every one of them knew that they all have to report tomorrow to their respective stations about work: the funeral's done and taken cared of, boss included (haha, said Yamamoto, and promptly throws up on the floor) and now there are other people to kill and be disposed of, taking some sense of vengeance for the tenth by ripping hearts.
Hibari watches the alcohol swirling in the glass and their faces swirling and melting into one mass of shadow and pain and the world swirls and swirls and the alcohol is passed around again, round and round and round it goes.
The night is profound and fascinating with incidents that will probably stay and be hidden within the walls of the room itself: Hibari passes out after beating up Gokudera in a pulp; Gokudera's burnt some of his clothes in careless disposal of his fag and Yamamoto and Mukuro learn a different way of one-way sex using the Rebuke Bullet. The Boss is in Heaven, Gokudera was murmuring somewhere beneath the table, softly, and all's right in the world.
And the moon and the stars and the night sky glares softly away and Hibari has the courage to smile at it and threatens to "bite the sky dead". Mukuro's semi-dead and in Yamamoto (Oh, hey, that's an awesome pun, said Yamamoto again, laughing and drunk and possibly raging for someone they all couldn't bring back from the dead), masturbating. Gokudera's just rolling around in pain. Which annoys Hibari. So he kicks Gokudera away from him and just sleeps, ignoring Gokudera's angry outbursts spoken in vulgar Italian.
Thank God for alcohol.
--
Cue: morning. And the room is silent and full of nasty glares and embarrassed gestures of "I'm sorry" and "I hope you're feeling well now", but definitely more of "would you like an aspirin". It was early, too early, the sun was bright and harsh against white tiles and broken hearts.
Clothes were put back on and smiles were put back on and Order was put back on and all other formalities were put back on. Yes, they have a job to do and all sense and responsibility was worn once more, like an old glove. The family stands still.
Cue: exit. Four individuals take a bow against an invisible boss, all language of regret and sadness and loss left behind within the room, exiting stage right. There was a family to be taken care of and a death to avenge.
The room was as silent as it had been before.