Author's Note: Well, here is a drabble in a new fandom of mine; Katekyo Hitman Reborn. This one is meant to be a bit wishful. Be warned that this is full of repetitive phrases, which I didn't change because it is mean to be the rambling of a person and I don't think we are particularly original in our word choice when rambling in our heads.
Daydreams
Yamamoto Takeshi can't help but wonder every time he sees Gokureda what would had happened. Even if he is not a man of what ifs and is perfectly happy with his loot on life who tries to not duel in the pass and change the future into a happy one for his famiglia, he still feels, not curiosity exactly, but a vague feeling of longing when he gazes at the silver haired Italian man who is so similar but different from his pass self. He wonder what would have happened if he hand realized the man's feeling sooner, when they still existed as a crush for him, when the stolen glances were from him, when flushed cheeks were produced by him, when a pat on the back generated a warm sensation on his heart. He wonders what would had happened if he had realized his own feeling sooner when there was still a chance for them to be returned.
But by the time he recognized them, they were gone, time had passed and another had looked and catch the attention and transformed a boy crush into something deeper. Another had noticed what the boy had to offer, what the boy was offering silently in his own gruff way. By the time he noticed, Hibari Kyouya had seen what he hadn't been able to and captured the heart and mind of the Italian boy. How he did so is one of the Vongola guardians biggest secrets, even Tsuna or specially Tsuna doesn't know, and some say that even Reborn hasn't got the full details and still trying to get them out of Gokureda and Hibari. None of which are speaking or seem about to cave in the Arcobaleno's wishes for information.
So now he wonder how different it would had been. He wonder as he sees the pair mature, fight and argue, for with them these two nouns mean very different things, far more violent, bloody things, and feel in love, or as close they can get to it. And he look in something like envy as the former Namimori prefect showers the Italian with Japanese traditional gifts, with kimonos, with delicious sweets the other enjoys but is to proud to buy for himself, with strange little gestures that show that he does indeed care. And he sees his friend accept them, wear them, share them and give gifts in return from his mother Italy, which the Japanese boy accept with surprising grace for his known distaste of foreign things. But Gokureda, even if not in name, is a foreign, exotic thing that Hibari seems to never get enough of or want to get rid of.
Yamamoto wonder how it would be to be the one to give clumsy but thoughtful gifts, because he is never graceful, not outside a sword battle, not with words or actions, to make the bomber smile secretly, with a little pleased flush. He wonder how it would be to be the one to cook for him, to wake with him on mornings and take little trips and disappear together to some unknown place where no-one can contact or bother them. He wonder how it would feel to put a fiery red hue to the other cheeks as he whisper in his ears as the other dons the kimonos and yukatas he buys for him, even if he wasn't got the some refined taste that Hibari was, but Hayato would respond because they would be given to him by his lover, by him.
But even if he wonders, even if he longs, he is happy for them. Because he knows they are similar under the fiery and frozen outlook, that both are lone wolfs who never quite get the hand of being with other people, people that get inside their lives and care for their wellbeing outside or reward less of benefits. They are wild creature who could never leave the peaceful life he would had been perfectly happy of living if he never meet Tsuna or one of the other successor inherited the Vongola. The life his father gave him for the first fourteen years of his life that he interrupted with a random suicide attempt. Because in the end they compliment each other, can understand each other and he isn't sure he could had given that to Hayato, he isn't confident in his ability to make the other smile in that way, in that bashful way that makes him glow, that makes him look so much like his mother, like a ethereal being even if he is covered and weighed by blood of thousand murders, because no matter how handsome he looks, he is in the Mafia and the right hand man of a Mafia boss.
So he will be happy to keep wondering, because he knows he missed his chance, he missed his time, and now there is no space nor place for him, at least not the one he had been once offered in the silver haired man's heart, and he wouldn't dare to break the other two happiness for a taste of what is not his to taste. Because he was blind, deaf and to distracted with life to notice what a insecure, if not obvious but deeply so, boy of fourteen years old offered to him in the days were he still preferred to live in his own reality, in his own fantasy full of baseball games and supposed 'Mafia games'. He has no right, or will, to destroy what they had built together with each other and for each other. After all, Yamamoto Takeshi is not a man of what ifs and is happy with his loot in life, who tries to not duel in the pass and change the future into a happy one for his famiglia.
"OI! Baseball freak! If you don't pay attention you are going to get a shot to your ugly mug! And I don't want to explain to the tenth that I had to carry your corpse back to Headquarters because you were daydreaming in the middle of a mission!."
Author's Note: The world is about to end, I made a somewhat romantic piece... I wonder if I should post this on the Yamamoto/Gokureda and Hibari/Gokureda communities... I don't have a live journal though... (The Narumo going around is my sister again.)