Disclaimer: I obviously don't own KHR, or I wouldn't be writing this fic.

Warning: Some Gokudera language and it's an 8059 fic, so if you don't like boyxboy you better not read it.

Summary: What happens when Yamamoto returns form a mission and hears the news about Gokudera from Tsuna? TYL!8059.

Side note: Anything that isn't in the flashbacks is spoken in Italian.


[The pilot will begin the descent momentarily. Please make sure that your seat and tray tables are in their upright and locked position.]

Yamamoto leaned towards the window, his forehead touching the cold material as he watched the land barely visible between the clouds below. And then the world outside turned white before revealing the beauty of his destination. Italy. He had been waiting for this moment for years, the day when he would come to the country without a mission. They had bought the tickets long ago, filled with anticipation, but now the seat beside him was empty, the other ticket tucked inside his pocket, unused. Yamamoto closed his sleep deprived eyes and leaned back in his seat, letting out a heavy sigh. He had not been able to sleep since he came back from his mission, not after hearing Tsuna utter those words.

"Gokudera is no longer here." Tsuna's eyes flickered to the side in a way that reminded him of his boss ten years prior. Yamamoto stared at him, not fully comprehending the meaning behind those words. Why was he not there? Then Tsuna spoke again, his eyes meeting those of his guardian. "Your mission was taking so long and Gokudera… well, he got more and more irritable by the day, so he…" Tsuna's voice faded and a look of pain crossed his face.

"That herbivore left on a mission by himself." Hibari cut in as it seemed that the Vongola tenth was not about to continue.

"Then, where is he?" Yamamoto inquired, his heart almost stopping upon seeing the dejected faces of his fellow guardians.

The plane shook as the wheels made contact with the ground, abruptly interrupting his trail of thoughts.

[We have not reached our destination. The local time is 20.30 and the temperature lies at a comfortable 18°C. We hope you enjoy your stay and thank you for flying with us today.]

The fasten seatbelt sign was turned off and the passengers flew to their feet, trying to grab their carryon items and get out before anyone else. Yamamoto remained in his seat, knowing that he would not be able to get off any sooner by competing with the other passengers. Bianchi was not expecting him until the following day anyway. Unconsciously his hand wandered to his pocket, pulling out one of the three boxes stowed there. He twirled it between his fingers, watching it absentmindedly. The Italian had given it to him, saying that people would stare if he walked around with a fucking sword attached to his hip.

"Signor?" he turned his head to see one of the airhostesses standing by his row. "Are you alright?" he noted that he was the only passenger who had yet to leave the plane. When he did not respond the woman smiled at him. "That's a pretty box. Is it for someone special?"

"It was a gift." His eyes traced the blue ornaments on it. The woman's smile widened.

"From your lover?"

"Sì." Yamamoto returned her smile, though it did not quite reach his eyes. Putting the box back in his pocket he grabbed the seat in front of him and pulled himself up, having to bend forward in order not to hit his head. As he seemed to be okay the airhostess wished him a pleasant stay and continued towards the back of the cabin. After retrieving his bag from the overhead compartment Yamamoto passed through the passport control and headed to the car rental.

He did not pay much attention to the small room at the motel he had pulled in at. He did not even bother to turn on the lights, but simply placed his bag on the floor and undressed before crawling onto the creaking bed. He lay motionless in the darkness, watching the light that danced across the ceiling as cars passed by through the night. He was exhausted, but his mind would not settle down knowing that the person who was supposed to be lying next to him was absent. During missions there was no problem, every nerve focusing on the task at hand, but now… Yamamoto closed his eyes, trying to imagine the peaceful breathing of his lover. Eventually, sleep wrapped around his mind like a thick mist.

Not a single cloud tainted the sky's blue canvas as he approached the mansion. It seemed as if the radio's promise had come true and Yamamoto noticed that the temperature had reached over thirty. Thankful for the AC he shook off his suit jacket and loosened the tie. Dust swirled behind the car as he pulled to a stop in front of the mansion. Stepping out of the car he took his bag and flung his suit jacket over his arm. As he walked up the marble stairs he was greeted by the fluttering of wings and a few steps later he spotted a flock of doves circling just above the marble terrace. A speck of white caught his eyes. Among the birds stood a person with silver hair and emerald eyes, his expression more serene than Yamamoto had ever seen him.

"Hayato!" he exclaimed, drawing the young man's attention. "Please call my name one more time." A sad smile touched the Italian's lips before they parted.

"I wish I could."


[AN]: That's it for part one =3 I've had this idea for quite some time and I hope you liked reading it. Sorry if Yamamoto seemed OoC, but his TYL! self is more serious than the younger one and I believe that he would turn even more serious if something happened to anyone of his friends.

18°C = 64 Fahrenheit and 30°C = 86 Fahrenheit.

Senor is Italian for Mr. and sì means yes.

Please review if you liked it =3