Third update of the story! (I don't own KHR or any affiliated characters.)
Gokudera's colorful vocabulary was slightly limited, due to my younger self's strong distaste for profanity. Strangely, now I find the profanity-censoring is rather childish. I uncensored the little bit; this is, indeed, a T-rated story where some profanity is allowed.
I apologize if you dislike profanity, though this is a T-rated story. Hopefully, you've considered presence of profanity before reading my story at all.
Well, don't let two words bother you too much. Just sit back, relax, and enjoy the show, my dear readers! ;D
The airport was crowded with people rolling along luggage in rolling luggage cases and other people rushing about as they carried out duties and errands. Lights flashed here and there, stores advertising their products. The nineteen-year-old looked around the crowd, tip-toeing to see above the crowd.
Where's my flight gate? God, are these Americans so tall…
He gritted his teeth to control himself and looked around once more. There was a Starbucks coffee store there, a Free Temptation, and a few food stores. He turned on the spot; he was looking in the wrong way. The flight gate numbers. The nearest one displayed a bold number: 40. His gate number was 35. Close, but not quite there. He turned to head towards the smaller flight gate numbers, squeezing through the crowd to his flight gate. He had never expected that this airport would be so stuffed with people.
There was a certain person he hadn't noticed past the crowd. There was a certain grumbling man in a suit, sitting at the Starbucks window, looking out, scanning the outside. He drank more of his coffee and gruffly set it down on his table, if not smashing it down like a meteor.
He hated life now. He hated life so much now, after Juudaime died.
Gokudera Hayato was now an official hitman of the Vongola family, the Storm Guardian of the esteemed Vongola Family. Thank God the Ninth was still alive; if the Ninth died, there was no proper Tenth to replace the Ninth, and nobody but Juudaime should be the rightful Tenth. Whoever was placed in Juudaime's rightful seat, Gokudera would beat to pieces; even if it means to be killed by the Vongola itself. Presently, he was in a worse mood; his cigarettes ran out. His last pack. The ones at Free Temptation were too pricey, and they weren't any good either. Not strong enough to last, and not strong enough to light a single damn fucking stick of dynamite.
Gokudera chugged down another cup of Starbucks coffee. Too much water; the Guardian groaned to himself. He brought the coffee cup down drunkenly, as if setting a beer bottle down. He glared around, thinking to buy another cup, but refusing to. He stood up, calmly dropping the cup – which surprisingly hadn't broken – into the trash. He walked out of the store, hands in his pockets. He was looking for a target, and right now, he was on a false lead. He had rigged the false lead himself; Gokudera needed time alone, without all the other Vongola hitmen bothering him all the time. Though Yamamoto was gone still trying for the Major Leagues, the Vongola itself had its annoying hitmen, who proved equally as irritating and persistent to annoy as the baseball-idiot.
As he was looking around carelessly, Gokudera caught sight of a familiar tuft of brown hair jutting out from a sea of people, a familiar pair of eyes peeking above the crowd. Gokudera froze; his legs oddly felt weak. The possibility slapped him square in the face.
It can't be Juudaime, can it? No, stupid, he's dead; I've seen him in his coffin, I've been to his funeral, I've seen him, dead, the moment his face was revealed from the straitjacket. It can't be! No… I have to make sure it's him.
Who the hell thinks he can impersonate the Tenth?
Gokudera took off, diving into the crowd after the Juudaime-look-alike. The Juudaime-look-alike seemed to have a flight to catch; he was hurrying about as if he did. It was one of the high thirties, surely.
"J-Juudaime!" shouted Gokudera, his words weirdly strangled and uneven, a far cry from the fluent Japanese he used to speak. He hadn't been to Japan in years. "Juudaime!" The shouts were buried among the bustling of the crowd around him; the Juudaime-look-alike didn't turn. Gokudera gritted his teeth in frustration and picked up his pace. Suddenly, the Juudaime-look-alike turned off at gate 35. Gokudera's eyes widened.
That mysterious person wore the clothes that Juudiame would wear. That mysterious person had the same expression Juudaime would have. That mysterious person had the same brown eyes, the same hair color, the same hair style. However, that Juudaime-look-alike had a feeling about him as if he were…used to America. Like he lived somewhere here, in New England. A college student? Gokudera had dropped high school in Namimori, soon afterwards entering a mafia university. By now, Tsuna would be in college, naturally. Yamamoto had a baseball scholarship into a college, as long as he played in the team. Gokudera clenched his teeth in determination. He was going to find out exactly who this person was.
As Gokudera fought against the crowd, the mysterious person walked up to the gate entrance and gave the attendant a flight ticket. The flight attendant returned the ticket after running it through an authenticity-checking mechanism, and let the Juudaime-look-alike through. Gokudera frowned and looked to the flights board.
New York International to Rome International? This plane is going to Italy…
He rushed to the desk, where an attendant sat, apparently busy.
"Can I buy a ticket on this plane, please?" he demanded. The lady seemed mildly surprised at the sudden demand, but glanced at Gokudera and looked back to the screen.
"I would like to have identification, please, and tell me what you would like to purchase," the lady said calmly. "First-class, business, or just economy?" She glanced up.
"B-Business," answered Gokudera, reaching into his coat. "I have my passport here, and driver's license." He handed the lady both passports and driver's license.
"Italian?" questioned the lady. Gokudera nodded. "Well, business class, you ask? Credit, debit, or cash?"
"Credit," replied Gokudera, handing the lady a credit card. The lady frowned, not recognizing the company. But she shrugged and swiped it, as the credit card swiping machine thing could recognize a range of credit cards that even she could not remember. The attendant handed Gokudera his passport, driver's license, and credit card. After waiting for the ticket to print out, she handed the ticket over as well. Gokudera accepted it and rushed to the gate, anxious to find that Juudaime-look-alike.
So, the plot thickens. Again, don't forget to review!
Stay tuned for an update on 12/26! There will be a break for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day so everyone can enjoy Christmas to the fullest with the family or find the fanfiction list saturated with Christmas-themed specials.
ALSO: I'll be leaving on a trip for three days: 12/27~12/29. Sadly, there will be no posts at that time. SORRY! There will be a post as soon as I get back.
MERRY CHRISTMAS, EVERYONE!
