Hello there. I'm here with another of my stories that I post everywhere I can. This was a birthday fic for a friend and since I love procrastinating so much, I decided to rush it during the last night available, so beware of all kinds of mistakes and especially plot holes. OTL I might edit it one day when I'm not so lazy...
Disclaimer: Katekyo Hitman Reborn belongs to Amano Akira. The song 'Kiss the Rain' belongs to Yiruma (I'm sorry for using the title, I lack originality). The lyrics aren't mine neither. I own like, nothing. Dx
Gokudera felt sick.
Sick of seeing that baseball idiot. Sick of seeing his stupid smile. Sick of seeing him sticking to that bastard.
Sick of loving him, and not being able to do anything.
Gokudera was no coward. He would have told Yamamoto how he felt about him, at least he thought so, as soon as he understood it himself. He would have, except that right now, that baseball idiot was with Hibari. Of course, none of the two officially confirmed it, since this is Hibari we're talking about, but Gokudera was sure of it. Why else would they always be together, fighting, eating, kissing?
Their relationship would probably have remained a secret, until the bomber haphazardly passed by the normally empty classroom yesterday just as Hibari leaned in and gave Yamamoto a light kiss, probably their first, which quickly turned heavier, with tongues adding in. The swordsman still had a hint of a blush when he went to meet Gokudera and Tsuna at the school gates.
Damn that idiot.
Shifting into a sitting position on his bed, Gokudera lit up and took a long drag from a cigarette. He still felt minor guilt for lying to juudaime, saying he couldn't go to school today because he was sick at home. Well, it was kind of true, the Italian defended himself. The mere thought of seeing Yamamoto with that bastard again made his stomach churn, and he was avoiding its happening at all cost.
Gokudera knew, from the first time he had set his eyes on him, that Yamamoto was special. Different from all he had ever seen before, even though his raven hair blended in perfectly with the rest of the students. Those amber orbs blazed with the joy of life, and the contrast with the cold and lifeless gaze of the mafia, in which Gokudera grew up, struck him full on. He never could get away from the Japanese teen after that, their roles as Vongola Tenth's guardians binding them together even tighter.
What Gokudera didn't know was how hard he would fall for him.
Smashing the butt of his cigarette into the ashtray he kept on his nightstand, the bomber stood up hastily. He needed a distraction from Yamamoto. He couldn't let himself waste his life on that baseball idiot, he still had juudaime to protect. Walking out from his bedroom, Gokudera scanned his colorless apartment before settling down in front of his piano which was collecting dust in a corner. Sliding his finger across the wooden surface, he tried to recall when was the last time he had played it, but couldn't remember. After his mother's death, piano became somewhat of a taboo for him, although it seemed like a good time to pick it up again now.
Lifting the lid, the silver-haired teen positioned his fingers on the smooth white keys, not knowing what to play. Finally, he decided to just let himself go and his fingers started pressing the first keys to a soft melody the Italian faintly remembered from his childhood.
As the song continued, Gokudera was able to identify it. Kiss the Rain. He chuckled bitterly at the irony of the title, but kept his fingers flowing over the keys, accentuating every crescendo and decrescendo, adding in as much emotion as possible. Remembering how during his childhood, he had once tried to add lyrics to the song, Gokudera closed his eyes and tried to recall the words. They came back to him, slowly but surely.
I often close my eyes
And I can see you smile
You reach out for my hand
And I'm woken from my dream
Although your heart-
The melody stopped abruptly as Gokudera took his hands away from the piano, drawing in a sharp breath. The image of Yamamoto's stupid smile had just appeared in his mind. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't get away from thoughts of the rain guardian.
Yamamoto was puzzled.
Puzzled, because he felt that Gokudera was avoiding him. Did he do anything wrong to make the storm guardian mad at him? But Gokudera always seemed mad at him, and he had never avoided him before. He would just yell at him, call him an idiot, and the way his green orbs seemed to lit up on fire at those moments entranced Yamamoto. It might be the reason why the swordsman always made discreet attempts at provoking the Italian, all to see that fierce fire again. It made Gokudera look more… lively, and funny to say, happier. He always had that tiny little smile each time he threw an insult at the Japanese, and albeit subtle it was, the latter had noticed and treasured it.
If Gokudera wasn't mad at him, then why is it that each time Yamamoto looked in his direction, he would avert his eyes?
Scratching the back of his head in confusion, the rain guardian stood up from his chair in the near-empty classroom as the teacher announced the end of detention. Waving goodbye to his fellow detained friends, Yamamoto made his way through the hallways towards the entrance of the school. As he passed by the music room, his sharp sense of hearing picked up the sounds of someone playing the piano through the thick wall. Not one made for music, his main field of expertise being sports, the raven-haired teen could still comprehend that whoever was playing was very skilled, if the way his own breath hitched was of any indication. Each note composing the melody seemed to hold so much meaning, it was simply amazing.
Pushing the door open without a sound, Yamamoto felt his heartbeat fasten as he recognized the one sitting on the piano bench. Gokudera. As if hypnotized, he approached the other teen silently, not wanting to disturb him, but his efforts were futile as the bomber immediately turned his head over to see who the intruder was. The rain guardian frowned as the song stopped and settled down in a chair beside the piano under Gokudera's annoyed glare.
"What are you doing here, you baseball idiot?"
"That was amazing, Gokudera. What you just played." Yamamoto grinned, evading the storm guardian's question.
"Tche. As if a dumbass like you would understand anything about music."
"But I could hear how much emotion there was in your playing. What's the song called?" Putting a finger on a white key, the raven-haired teen pressed it lightly, looking curious as a clear note rang out through the room, wondering just how many of these was necessary to make what he has just heard.
"It's called 'Get Away From Here Before I Rip Your Head Off'." The coldness in Gokudera's voice was evident and Yamamoto looked dejected as he picked up his schoolbag and stood up to leave. The Italian wasn't mad at him; he was pushing him away. He still didn't understand why.
"Then I guess I'll see you tomorrow, Gokudera." With a small wave, Yamamoto disappeared into the hallway, pulling the door close behind him.
Gokudera waited in silence as the footsteps faded into the distance before lowering the lid of the piano and walking over to the door. Opening it and taking a peek outside, he made sure Yamamoto was well gone before getting out of the music room and heading home.
After he witnessed the baseball idiot running off to eat with Hibari during lunch break, all Gokudera wanted to do was bomb the two to pieces and get away from here. Instead, in fear of worrying the Tenth, he restrained himself from doing so and waited till the last bell had rung to dash out of the classroom. Somehow, he found himself in the school's music room, sitting in front of the old piano, playing that damned song which reminded him so much of Yamamoto over and over. No wonder even the clueless swordsman could hear it; Gokudera had poured the entirety of his sorrow and despair into the melody.
He didn't mean to push Yamamoto away with such coldness, but the silver-haired teen couldn't bear to see him, see that smile of his, while knowing he would never be able to grasp it. It wasn't his and never will be.
Gokudera shook his head. It was so unlike him to have depressing thoughts like those, but he guessed meeting Yamamoto had changed him more than he possibly imagined. As he arrived in front of his apartment and was about to introduce his key into the lock, a buzzing sound coming from his left startled the bomber. Looking over at the origin of the noise, he saw a baby clad in a black suit and a fedora step out of a capsule similar to an alien spaceship.
"Ciaossu."
"Reborn-san," Gokudera acknowledged.
The baby eyed him seriously. "I need to talk with you."
Nodding dumbly, the Italian opened his front door and invited Reborn in, wondering what in the world could be important enough for the mafia's strongest infant to pay him a visit personally. The two settled down at Gokudera's dining table, the small hitman jumping on top of it in order to face the guardian. Looking into the emerald green eyes, Reborn started to talk.
"I see you've changed a lot since you came to Japan."
Taken aback, Gokudera only stared at the baby, not sure what to answer. He didn't need to, as Reborn continued, huge black eyes not once leaving his.
"From a loner, you've grown into a trusting and reliable person. I guess I did right to call you here." There was a tone of self-praise in Reborn's voice, but Gokudera understood that the compliment was mainly directed at himself and smiled.
"Juudaime changed me. He taught me how to trust and gave me something important: someone to protect and rely on." As he said those words, a warm, fuzzy feeling overflowed the silver-haired teen. He never would have imagined life with such friends before, alone in Italy.
Reborn's next question took him by surprise. "And Yamamoto?"
Gokudera sighed, knowing that nothing ever escapes the baby hitman. "Yamamoto changed me too. He… he made me see the good in life. I've never felt happiness like that before I met him." There. He had said it out loud, and on top of that, to Reborn of everyone he knows.
"I see. If I asked you to leave them, would you do it?"
"What? No way! No way in hell!" Gokudera was outraged. What was that ridiculous question? Leave them, his friends, his family? He would never do that! He couldn't even envisage living without them now, without juudaime, without Yamamoto…
The storm guardian awaited for an explanation, hands tightened into fists on his lap. Why did Reborn ask that? Did he doubt his fidelity to the family? No matter what, Gokudera would prove it to the baby that he would never, ever betray Vongola.
At his answer, Reborn lowered his head, the rim of his fedora shadowing his eyes, making his expression unreadable. His next words came out grim and for once, the infant seemed reluctant to say what he has to say.
"Gokudera Hayato, under the orders of Vongola Ninth, you are being called back to Italy for family duties."
Time momentarily stopped as Gokudera felt the world spinning and crashing down in a disarray of colors all around him.
To say he was worried was an understatement. Right now, Yamamoto Takeshi was restless. He hadn't seen Gokudera again since he had heard him play the piano, and it's been two days already. Tsuna didn't know where the bomber was either, and when the young Vongola boss asked Reborn about it, the baby shrugged and said he didn't know.
For once, Yamamoto refused Hibari's request to eat lunch together and spent his break time sitting under a tree, wondering where in the world could Gokudera be. His emotions were in turmoil these past two days after his encounter with the storm guardian in the music room. Each time he recalled that beautiful song, the image of smooth silver hair and graceful fingers dancing over the keys would flood his mind, disrupting any other thoughts he might have had.
The raven-haired teen knew that during those few seconds the melody lasted, something within him had changed. No, instead of changed, it's more like he unlocked them, those overwhelming feelings he had for Gokudera. The separation only made Yamamoto realize it even more, that's why he had to find the Italian as soon as possible and once he does, he would tell Gokudera that he loved him. As Yamamoto made that silent resolution, Reborn appeared beside him without a notice.
"Ciaossu."
Startled, the rain guardian jumped before calming down as he recognized the baby. "Hi there, kid. What's up? Have any information on Gokudera's whereabouts?"
Avoiding his question, Reborn asked, locking eyes with him: "Tell me, Yamamoto, how do you feel about Gokudera?"
"I… Wha… How…?" Shocked about the question, the Japanese teen spluttered incoherent words as he stare incredulously at the baby hitman. Reborn smirked at his obvious bafflement and Yamamoto blushed, trying to regain his composure.
"I… I think I like him. A lot. But I just understood that not too long ago." The swordsman felt no need of hiding his feelings from Reborn, seeing how the baby was always able to read his thoughts anyway.
"I see. Then what if Gokudera disappeared from your life? What would you do?" Reborn was completely serious as he said those words, and Yamamoto felt his blood run cold. Could this have anything to do with how the bomber had been missing?
"Kid, something happened, didn't it?" Dread filled his voice as Yamamoto tried his best to stop it from trembling. Reborn didn't answer, and he felt panic rising inside of him.
"Tell me, kid! Where is Gokudera?" The rain guardian was nearly screaming now, the thought of loosing the silver-haired Italian scaring him more than everything else. His eyes were pleading as he looked at Reborn's stern expression, amber orbs holding more fear and despair than they had ever known.
Finally, after some atrocious moments of silence that seemed to last forever, the baby hitman decided to speak.
"He's heading towards the airport as we talk."
"The airport? Why?"
"Gokudera's been called back to Italy for family duties by the Ninth. There's no way to prevent it from happening, orders are orders."
Before Reborn even finished his sentence, Yamamoto was already out of the school gates, running in direction of the airport as fast as his legs would allow him.
"You can come out now." The infant's voice resounded from under the tree, and Hibari stepped aside from the trunk, glancing emotionlessly in direction of the gates as the bell announcing the afternoon classes rang.
"Aren't you going to go after him, Hibari?"
"I see no use in doing so." The prefect turned away and headed towards the school building. I'm freeing you, Yamamoto Takeshi.
Gokudera decided to get off the taxi and walk the last part of the way to the airport. He wanted to enjoy his last moments in Japan as much as possible. Observing his surroundings carefully, he tried to memorize every single detail of this place he would soon leave, burning them into his mind.
The first drop of water grazed his cheek like a sharp blade, and before long, he was soaked down to his bones in the icy rain. Rain, the Italian thought, smiling bitterly to himself. Was Yamamoto bidding farewell to him? Of course not. That idiot was surely sheltering in the warm with Hibari while he was freezing outside.
The water sliding down his face turned warm, and Gokudera took a few moments to realize that he was crying, his tears blending into the rain. At that moment, he would have given anything to see Yamamoto one last time. Each step he took towards the airport, towards Italy, felt heavier and heavier.
He still had so much to do here, in Namimori. He hadn't even told Yamamoto about his feelings. How could he just leave like this? The rain turned into a downpour, and Gokudera felt as if he was drowning in it, unable to breathe as silent sobs overcame him.
As he was gasping for air, the silver-haired heard a voice call out behind him. He couldn't believe his ears.
"Gokudera!"
Yamamoto had pushed himself to his limits and caught up with the storm guardian.
Gokudera stood there, dumbfounded, staring at the panting raven-haired teen in front of him. He couldn't understand it when arms circled him, surrounding him in warmth, until Yamamoto whispered breathlessly into his ear:
"Don't leave, Gokudera. Don't leave me. Please. I love you."
And the Italian understood, as he felt the burning sensation at the crook of his neck, that Yamamoto had been crying too. And Yamamoto loved him back. Running a hand through the damp raven locks of hair, Gokudera leaned in and whispered back:
"I promise I won't leave." He had no idea how he could convince the Ninth to let him stay, but he will definitely do it. For Yamamoto's sake. For his own sake.
Emerald green clashed with amber in the pouring rain as the storm guardian pulled back from the hug before smashing their lips together. During the full length of the kiss that carried so much of their emotions, Gokudera could faintly hear the melody to Kiss the Rain playing back in his mind, and nothing would ever be more perfect than this moment.
Thank you for reading!
Errr, I was thinking about doing a sequel or something, but does this fic really need one? Maybe one where Yamamoto and Hibari sort some things out? With Gokudera and Yamamoto moments?