PRIMO!5986 Short-Story ~ SPRING MEETING
Timeline: Primo Generation, before they were called the Vongola Famiglia
Pairings: PRIMO!5986 = G. X Cerelia | PRIMO!2795 = Giotto X ?
Canon Characters: Italian side of the Primo Generation
Unofficial Characters: Cerelia (please deal with how I imagined Haru ten generations before = first hints about her in Ch.43 of s/10194710/1/5986-COLORE ) | PLENTY OTHERS (if anyone knows Amano-sensei and can asks her some Secret Bullets about the Primo Generation to know better, I'll love you forever!)
TEN GENERATIONS AGO, ONE NIGHT IN ITALY
"Humph…" G. kicks a small stone away from his path, before leaning onto the marble wall of a wealthy mansion and pulling on his cigarette nonchalantly.
Tonight is just another vigilance night...
G.'s magenta eyes have already taken the greyish shade of his disinterest as he gazes down at the paving stones still dark with the humidity of the past rainy days.
Seasons pass, politics pass, the definition of justice itself passes, but the stone daily serving as a foothold to the town people remains the same. Their vigilante group that had always been fighting at the frontier with illegality is now not only well-established but also respected... for now.
Now that another Spring is coming and bringing more mildness after some harsh Winter, acknowledgment has also come answer their efforts.
Now that the newly established nobility has open to more libertine ideas, support has also come reinforce their cause.
Now that the pavement under their feet is not stained with blood anymore, walls of clean marble are rising to form the elegant shapes of new modern villas left and right from the riverside district.
The smoke of his cigarette elevates towards the skies, but G.'s eyes are still wandering on the dark ground that holds memories of fights not so distant.
Time has passed, from daily fights to mere patrolling...
If G. had not sworn to follow Giotto whatever his decisions, he would not have put up with having to monitor this elite district. But winning the freedom to act for their vigilante group came with a price, and allocating someone to protect the nobles' mansions was part of it.
"Tsk…" G. pulls away from the wall, not liking a bit the idea of touching something built by people who could provide food for an entire year to a countryside village in stead of a useless fancy manor.
Freedom to think well and fancy ideas only come to nobles having the luxury of not worrying about how to eat day after day, after all... But on their side, their values had never being tilting to such grand ideals. They fought to protect what they cared for; they rose to hold a hand to the ones they wanted to help up; they went through all that thinking about making tomorrow better than today. But what about after tomorrow...
The more G. thinks about it, the darker their future as vigilante looks.
Not that he regrets anything, but just how white can't remain white after fighting black for too long, he also feels that the concessions they had to make to protect what they decided to protect are slowly dying them darker and darker. Spending so much time negotiating with the creatures dwelling in the dark abysses of Italy, won't they fall into these abysses as well…
G. browses the cloudy skies in search of some stars to bring some light into darkness, but in vain. In these first days of Spring, it's already a miracle not to rain, so he couldn't ask for a clear sky on top of it.
"Tsk, they even used sculpted pillars for their balcony, dannato them…" G. sneers as his eyes stray back on the manor upwards, "Eh… eeh… eeeeehhh…?!"
BADABAM.
G.'s arms barely have time to open up instinctively that he's sent to the ground by the weight of what he just caught up falling -jumping...?- from the balcony.
The soft velvet fabric of a troubadour hat lands featheringly on the paved ground of the street, leaving G. plenty leisure time to wonder at the long silky hair streaming down onto him now that it was released from their cover.
The tip of two slender leather boots brushing his legs to try and find footing for their owner also gives G. plenty leisure time to wonder at the oversized minstrel clothes badly disguising the fine body on top of him.
And most of all, plenty leisure time to feel entrapped in the silence of the night emphasizing on these dark sapphire blue eyes looking at him puzzlingly but without averting their straight-forward gaze.
Finally, the foot seem to have found ground, their owner has finally stood up and released G. from the weight of his assailant fallen from the sky and he can stand up in turn, the hypnotic charm breaking along it.
But just as he's about to burst into some angry lecturing and interrogating:
"G-Good night!" The girl mutters as she bypasses him to run away.
"As if…!" G. roars while grabbing her back by the collar, strangling her as she's pulled backwards for a due explanation.
"K-kof...! Aah, let go, please let go! If I miss tonight, I might never get another chance to approach him!"
"Approach who?"
"T-the legendary handsome hero protecting the city from the shadows: Signor Vigilante Giotto!"
G. releases the collar without really realizing, stunned to hear his Boss' name from the girl's lips.
Of course someone as amazing as Giotto deserves not only himself as a Right Hand Man but also the entire population behind him as support but, clearly, something is telling him that the girl's vision of things is a little off and that she's not admiring his admiration-worthy Boss for the right reasons.
"Tsk, and just what does a sneaking-out elite lady want by approaching him?"
"Eeh, h-how can you tell? My disguise is perfect, and... No way, are you another guard hired by daddy?! I can't let you catch me again!"
"I'm… KOF!"
BAM. The narrow tip of the girl's boot land right in the middle of G.'s tibia, sending a piercing pain in his entire body.
"Dannata little…?!" G. curses behind his teeth before swallowing back the rest to run after the runaway girl, who is unfortunately not as swift as a trained vigilante.
"Kyaaa...! L-let go of me! Have you never been taught not to lift your hand on a lady?"
"You sure have nerves to still call for a lady's honour when you're breaking curfew under such a bad disguise."
"Buuh, don't talk back about my costume! It's from a very distinguished troubadour who stopped at our home, and the confection is very well made, well of course not as well as the costumes I sew myself, but... Kyaaa!"
"I'd rather you spare me your babbling, humph..."
And without any other consideration, G. lifts the girl to place her on his shoulder like a parcel to be delivered back home.
"It'll be a serious dent on my Boss's honour if a little girl disappears from the mansion we were in charge of watching, tsk..."
"P-p-put me down! I need to go and meet with Signor Vigilante Giotto!"
"As Hell I will, tsk..."
"Buuh!"
GRIP. G. barely has time to wonder what kind of trick she's up to that the girl has grabbed onto the sides of his shirt as anchor before sending her body in a perfect front handspring over his shoulder, landing gracefully on both feet in his back. She hadn't spent so many years admiring minstrels for nothing, after all...
"Don't underestimate a girl in love, buuh!" She spouts with puffing cheeks before running away at full speed again.
"Dannata... OY!" G. roars before dashing after her again, more and more pissed.
GRAB. He has no problem catching back on her and the wind is knocked out of her when he pins her to the brick wall of a nearby street to stare at her mercilessly.
Long seconds count down in silence, burning magenta staring down at cool sapphire as they stubbornly don't avert their gaze from one another's.
With night as the sole witness of their wilful and unconventional staring duel, time passes slowly yet inexorably, the eyes of a lady not supposed to look up pinned into the ones of a gentleman not supposed to seek the meeting. But none of them had ever cared about conventions, and that night is not going to be their first...
Actually, the more they stare at each other, the more aggravated they feel, not liking one bit to find a spark fighting back at them in the other's pupils. And the sparks finally start fusing verbally as well...
"A runaway elite girl is trouble enough, so don't you mess with my Boss with stories about love on top of everything. How scatterbrain can you be to think you're worthy of him, you Donna Stupida (Ita. Stupid Woman)."
"Buuh! Not knowing anything of me, how dare you speak that way of a lady, you maleducato cafone (Ita. rude jerk)!"
"What kind of lady would act and speak that way in the first place?! Don't waste my time with your senselessness, tsk!"
"Love is beautiful miracle! Don't spoil it with your villano (Ita. boorish) lack of sensibility!"
"Sensibility is a luxury for idiots without any other worry in the world! Don't drag my Boss' name and ambition at the same level as such fesseria (Ita. bullshit)!"
"Buuh! Just wait until my Dad cancels your hire for having spoken so rudely, you cafone!"
"Ooh, care to actually come back to your Dad? I couldn't wish better, Donna Stupida!"
"Kyaaa!"
The girl's feet leave ground once again, but this time with both her arms locked in her back by G. hand while he secures her legs immobile onto him by his other arm.
"H-h-how can you?!"
"I can as easily as Galileo demonstrated Earth is round, you naive little lady! Consider yourself happy to have met a vigilante and not some mean-intentioned thug who could as easily do anything they'd want to you, tsk... The next time you plan on breaking curfew, don't do it when it's my patrol time, sigh..."
"... v... vigilante...? d-don't tell me...?"
HALF-AN-HOUR LATER, AT THE LADY'S RESIDENCE
"It was a job well done, G."
"Boss...?! Humph, I was only fulfilling my mission. More importantly, why are you here?"
"Maestro (Ita. Master, Professor), it looks like we won't have to search the streets for your daughter as my comrade already brought her back safely."
"Cerelia, oh Cerelia, how could you... where have you...?!"
"I trust you might want time with her to share your relief and anxiety, so we will take our leave."
"Ah, egregio Signor Giotto (Ita. esteemed, dear), I knew you were the right person to contact, and I will make sure to show my gratitude to you if you ever need my assistance. Grazie mille (Ita. thank you very much)."
"W-wait! Si... you're Signor Giotto...? I-I-I've wanted to… the truth is… I mean, I've always wanted to… ever since that night, y-you're my h-hero and…"
"Oy, Boss, let's go."
And G. closes the walk after Giotto, not without a faint victorious smirk for the lady left behind in the doting yet lecturing hand of her father, governess, ladies-in-waiting and butler. A pair of resentful sapphire eyes chased after him even after the door closed on the two vigilantes, but G. couldn't see them anymore.
Or at least he believed he would not see them anymore in the near future...
