Attraverso la Finestra -Tempesta e Pioggia
This story/stories will be a companion piece to my Il nostro percorso sotto la luce and it will be hard to understand for anyone who hasn't read that one first.
More than a story, I want this to be a series of snippets, showing Gokudera's and Yamamoto's life, prior to the beginning of percorso and after the ending –mostly the latter-. This first one takes place shortly before the events of percorso and it's more on the angsty side, but I intend further vignettes to be fluffier and light-hearted.
Prima Finestra: Tempesta di nostalgia
Gokudera Hayato had always known something like this would happen the moment he turned 24. It was only logical; in whatever alternative timeline, his ten-year-younger self would meet the Tenth and get involved with the Vongola, which in itself meant hanging around the stupid cow and his stupid, defective bazooka.
After breaking up with Yamamoto he had avoided the cow kid like the plague. He didn't want to be in the remotest proximity of that stupid invention and risk being sent to the future –a future he didn't want to see- or worse, the past. But he knew the latter would eventually become inevitable; and so didn't feel surprised in the slightest when, in the middle of a meeting with the Bucking Horse, he felt his stomach twist and found himself enveloped in puffy pink smoke.
"Gokudera? Are you alright? You shouldn't have picked on Lambo like that."
Gokudera's heart seemed to stop in his chest when he heard that voice. Of all the unfortunate moments to be sent back to, it had to be this, such was his luck. As the smoke cleared out, he found Yamamoto Takeshi's face staring in concern at him and then changing to surprise when he realized the switch.
"Woah! Gokudera? You look… taller?"
He couldn't bear to look at Yamamoto and his blinding radiance. It hurt too much. "I assume the 'me' from this time got hit by the Bovino Ten Year Bazooka and our places have been switched for the next five minutes." He explained mechanically, not daring to look at the younger boy.
"That sounds really complicated haha. Does that mean you're the Gokudera from the future? You've become a really cool-looking adult, haha!"
Gokudera just nodded and wished for this stupid five minutes to be over soon. For some reason, though, every second felt like an eternity. He was suffocating.
"Ne, what's the future like? Do we have flying cars and giant robots yet? Haha." The boy chuckled.
There was a moment of awkward silence until he felt the younger one clear his throat and shift nervously on the bench they were sitting.
"Ne, Gokudera…-san? In the future… will I still be able to stay by Gokudera's side?" Gokudera's heart got caught in his throat. He didn't want to have this conversation; not now, nor ever. "Can I ask some advice from Gokudera of the future? If I told the Gokudera of the present… my Gokudera…If I told him that I loved him, would he get really mad?"
Yamamoto forced another soft chuckle at the end and Gokudera couldn't bear it any longer. He covered his face with his hands and let go of the stupid tears that had been pooling at the corner of his eyes. He was so stupid, for letting this boy get to him like this; so pathetic for being unable to control his yearning even after all this time. He didn't want Yamamoto to see him like this but he couldn't stop the sobs and tears.
"Why… why must it be you? Why are you always like this, damnit?" he sobbed, wondering how much of this eternal five minutes he had left. He didn't want to be here any longer. Why must Yamamoto love him like this, no matter which past, present or future he was sent to? Even if he'd managed to save his Yamamoto, would his other "selves" from all those different times and futures be able to do the same?
When he was a lot younger, he'd been accidentally sent to the future a lot. The last time had probably been half a year before he left Yamamoto. He was 18 back then, and the place he found himself in was unfamiliar to him. What he did recognize was half-naked 28-year-old Yamamoto laughing when he saw him.
"I'm... living with Yamamoto in the future?" he wondered as he looked around, not really expecting an answer, noticing the double bed, the pictures, the clothes scattered on the floor… he blushed.
The older Yamamoto ruffled his hair affectionately and smiled at him. "Are you really surprised? Let me tell you something, and I hope you never forget it. Hayato's always getting weird ideas if he doesn't get things told clearly. Of all the futures and pasts I've been through, of all the 'Yamamoto Takeshi's I've heard of, there is one thing I can say for sure about the "me" that exists in every possible time. And that's that, no matter what, I will always and under any circumstance love Gokudera Hayato."
Gokudera wasn't sure he understood what the older man meant with those weirdly phrased words, or if he meant anything at all, but back then, they had made him feel that in spite of everything, there was at least one place in the world that would always be 'home' for him.
Of course, he had dumped all those naïve feelings when he decided Yamamoto's happiness was more important than his selfish desire for safety.
The older Storm Guardian was brought out of his thoughts when he felt warm, lanky arms surround him.
"I'm an idiot so I don't really understand but… even if it's this Gokudera or that one… I never want to see him cry." Yamamoto murmured softly, resting his chin atop Gokudera's head.
It was mystifying to Gokudera that, no matter what he did or where he was –past, present or future- Yamamoto always ended up comforting him, when it should be the other way around. When he went to the future as a teen, the Yamamoto that had lost his father had held him and told him that it was okay to be afraid. Now, as an adult, he was embraced by a teenager Yamamoto who said he didn't want him to cry. He felt so pathetic.
"You know… if the me of the future made Gokudera cry I'll go over there and beat him up."
It was all so meaninglessly stupid and Gokudera just couldn't stop fucking crying that he didn't even wonder why he was leaning into the younger boy's warmth. He didn't care. It didn't matter anymore. He was a big crying mess and he hated himself so much but he didn't care because being in Yamamoto's arms –whatever Yamamoto, from the past, the future or another planet- felt so damn good.
'Let's keep that a secret from the other 'me', yes? He'd be horribly jealous. I know because I'd be too.' He could hear the voice of the Yamamoto of the future in his head and snorted at the irony.
The moment he wondered if it wouldn't be too terrible to just stay like this forever, he felt himself being enveloped in puffy pink smoke.
Yamamoto was thrown aback when the adult Gokudera that had been crying in his arms a mere two seconds ago disappeared in a cloud of smoke.
"Gokudera-san? Are you there? Everything okay?"
When the smoke cleared, though, the person he saw was his Gokudera, and he seemed as confused as could be.
"Ya-Yamamoto?" the teen bomber stuttered, raising his face to meet the swordsman's eyes, and tearing up when he did so. "That future… I don't want to see that kind of future… I never…" he choked as the tears flowed down his cheeks.
Yamamoto hugged his friend on impulse. "That's okay. We won't let it become like that."
He didn't quite understand what had happened in the last five minutes, and he most definitely had no idea of what kind of future it was that the Gokudera he had met had come from.
What he did know for sure was that a future that made Gokudera cry was something he would never allow, no matter what.
-Finito-
So, as I explained earlier, this is intended to happen shortly before percorso. It's a scene I really wanted to write but I didn't find a proper moment in the story to add it, so I decided to start these vignettes with it.
I think the main point of this small story is that, even if Gokudera tried to change Yamamoto's future by breaking up with him, the younger 'Dera that saw that future and how sad and lonely it was decided he didn't want it and so he'll realize that he wants to be with Yamamoto. Dealing with time travelling is always complicated especially in KHR where they acknowledge the existence of multiple parallel timelines, so I'm not even going to try to go deeper into that explanation. Sorry.
Following up with my bastardizing of Italian, the title of this story is "Through the Window- Storm and Rain" because when I think of the vignettes I want to write, I sort of imagine like looking through a window and spying on different moments of their lives.
The title's chapter is "First Window: Storm of nostalgia", which I suppose is self-explanatory.
I hope you guys like this little story full of self-loathing (sorry, 'Dera). Promise the upcoming ones to be happier and definitely fluffier