Written for the non-kink meme, like whoa. Prompt was an introspective gen piece for one of the new characters.

Cozart is technically new, so I went with him. Characterization might be off because I don't follow the manga anymore, and what information I got, I got from the Reborn wikia. Apparently Cozart's somewhat like Enma? Enma's a bit of a loser, though, as endearing as he is. I like to keep them separate to a point that I can tell who's who, and that they're not like clones or something.

But yeah, Giotto? Guys, Giotto isn't a god. He's wholly human with faults.

Also, a bit of heads up on lingo: If you clip someone, it basically means you eliminate them.

By the by, you can totally slash them, I don't care. I do what I like, man, and I like slash, het and no pairings. We all cool, yeah. Let's do it. Mafiaaaaa~


Introspective


The difference between Cozart and Giotto is quite distinct. Giotto, without needing to do anything, is charismatic, while Cozart is content to make do with what he has. Moving out of his own personal bubble was never Cozart's default reaction, but it's always been second nature to Giotto. Maybe it's because Giotto is a natural born risk-taker of a leader, and Cozart is a born follower thrust into a position of power. Either way, differences have never hindered their pact and alliance as it has now.

"What do you think," Cozart had once asked, "About betrayal?"

It'd been a simple enough question, but it'd been enough to turn the previously laid-back atmosphere into one worth holding breath for.

For just a few moments, Giotto paused from where he was engrossed in a book, glancing up slightly to meet Cozart's eyes. Soon, an unreadable expression passed through his eyes, though the smile on his face was genuine.

"Pitiful." Giotto had answered him, "But necessary."

"Would you betray your friends?" Cozart had asked.

That time, Giotto'd response had been immediate, yet as much as a riddle. "Perhaps. But I wouldn't want to."

This conversation is playing back in his head again at this moment. The topic of betrayal, broached simply because his men insisted, is now all he can think of. It's hard not to, when he's bleeding, and his entire famiglia, all he's ever known and wanted, is reduced to numbers he can count on one hand.

Cozart could say that it's all wrong, but it's not like he doesn't know Giotto is capable of doing it. He's only known the other man for a short while, yet he feels like he should know him better than any other. It's contradictory, really, but Cozart doesn't care. All he knows is that Giotto would never do a thing like this to a friend. So...does that mean Cozart is no longer a friend?

His men have never really liked the Vongola, the same way Giotto's don't approve of Cozart's. Maybe it has to do with rivalry, maybe it has to do with the fact that both bosses are far too easygoing with the relations that their men believe they need to pick up the slack. They must worry a lot, but Cozart's fine, and so is Giotto.

He can believe that Giotto hasn't betrayed him. He can believe it wasn't on Giotto's orders. It would be denying it, somewhat, deep in his heart, but he can believe.

He recalls Giotto's last words to him, the last time they were face to face. The thoughtful gaze in the other man's eyes, the body expressions – Giotto has always been hard to read; it comes with having grown up hiding almost everything underneath lies and trickery, and it comes with learning how to find out who to trust and who to clip. Cozart wonders if he'd been reading too much into it, if he'd trying to look for something that isn't there, just to satisfy his own insecurities. And if he is trying to do that even now.

"Good luck, Cozart."

Ambition is a very scary trait. Cozart's well aware of the men it's toppled, and of how great men have fallen to its appealing temptation. He too, is not above or below it, yet he sees himself as a third person in the relationship between one's nature and ambition. Whatever appeals to oneself at one point will eventually keep appealing to them, even if that appeal is reduced or multiplied, to a greater or lesser extent. He isn't very judgmental, nor is he reliant on making decisions based on his emotions. So Cozart can say quite clearly that if ambition is a scary trait, then Giotto possesses traits far more frightening than what other men have.

There is a crevice in Giotto's mask, but blocked by a wall. Though Cozart can believe - and he knows, just because - that Giotto is an honestly good friend who will do whatever it takes to help his own friends, Cozart cannot also tell himself that behind those layers lies the hardiness of a man who's fought tooth and claw to get what he wants. Cozart will not think unkindly about someone, even if that someone has wronged him in some way. They're opposites, Cozart realizes. Giotto would not be merciful to traitors, but Cozart would; a second chance.

How was it possible for them to have bonded in such a way? They had something in common, of course. So why, Giotto?

Cozart's men are hurting and there isn't anything he can do to help them, because he's just as much. He doesn't think he can take much more of this - a little part of him wishes he'd spent more time working out, but commitment's a very scary thing. Cozart, whose friends are limited to a small circle of a family he feels comfortable with, who know who he is and what he does, and why exactly they are loyal to him, isn't like Giotto, who can go make promises with everyone and be somehow distant to all but the six who were with him from the beginning. If he could, Cozart would try to go back and see what went wrong.

There are so many people here. There are so many people coming.

And not one of them are friends or allies. Not one.

He's choking on the blood gathering at his throat. Or maybe it's his own saliva. The taste of metal is strong on his tongue, so he can't tell anymore, because, one: he doesn't care - because, two: there isn't time to really think. The Shimon he's been a part of is not made of cowards or people who run away from their friends - they will fight until the end.

This was what both he and Giotto were counting on. All enemies gathered in one place. All enemies vulnerable to fall when cornered. Yet why has Giotto not come? And if he were to come now, why so late, when so many of Cozart's own have had to be sacrificed? Necessary or not - he understands, dammit, that things like this have to be done no matter what he thinks or what his own men say - but isn't this too much?

"Boss!" One of his men calls out a warning, and Cozart, exhausted, lashes out once more.

Giotto and he are really quite different. The Earth Flame is his. The Sky Flame is Giotto's. Two separate types of flame, and a dubious alliance based on a dubious friendship. A little longer, Cozart keeps telling himself, until Giotto arrives. A little longer.

On that day, only one family of the two falls, and that family is not Vongola. And as Cozart falls, he wonders what he did wrong.

Why haven't you come yet, Giotto, as you have promised?

His men who survive will regard this as a betrayal from Don Vongola, and will carry this antagonism to the tenth generation.


end.