A/N: I worked quickly to get this out, so thank you for being patient! Your reviews were very encouraging—they helped me out immensely! My first grading exams are coming up in a few weeks (dying sobs), so please wish me luck!
I do not own anything except the original characters and the plot.
"Knowing too much of your future is never a good thing."
― Rick Riordan, The Lightning Thief
Casalinga
By Freydris
Chapter Six
There were many things I could say I found endearing. Cooking, as a matter of fact, was one. While it was a tiresome task, I immensely enjoyed performing it.
The delighted (and sometimes pleasantly surprised) expressions on the faces of the people I fed were also very good factors. I spent so much of my life making others cry and bleed and suffer, and it honestly it felt better—much much better to make people laugh and smile.
Walking down memory lane was something I too did most of the time, despite my wishes not to. It was wrong, to cling to the past, but the past held memories—memories that mattered to me. I was not pretty nor ugly, something of an in-between really, so what made me so proud of myself was my brain. My intelligence. My memories.
One more I found particularly endearing was Tsuna. My clumsy, kind-hearted son. Of course, honestly, how could you expect anything less from me? I was a proud mother.
Aha, but I was also, also very fond of Tsuna when he was in a worrying frenzy. I had seen him worried before, often because of me. There was also this one time when Iemitsu was two days late of his promised return date. The then eleven year old boy had gone on and on and on about alien kidnapping and underground secret organizations (he wasn't too far off, my smart son), and upon his father's arrival gave him the cold shoulder.
Right, so where was I?
Ah yes, Tsuna in a worrying frenzy.
Well, it was one thing to see a clean freak Tsuna—but it was a whole other level to witness a worried Tsuna in an anxious rampage. He was simply everywhere, being twitchy and rambling, and if not then keeping quiet and being twitchy.
"Gokudera," He fretted, rummaging the contents of the his right hand man's traveling backpack, "Are you sure you have everything?"
"Yes Jyuudaime!"
Having arrived just in time to witness the scene, I chuckled to myself and emerged from the kitchen. After a second of thought, I decided to take the conversation into my own hands before Tsuna spread his jitter to his classmate. Something told me a jittery Gokudera wasn't a good thing.
"You all set to go, Gokudera-kun?" I interrupted smoothly, smiling at the all-of-a-sudden bashful boy. It was fascinating to see Gokudera pull his amazing one-eighty moments.
To his credit, the bomber wasn't too startled by my sudden appearance. He ducked his silver head down and made a bobbing motion of affirmation. An awkward silence enveloped the two of us before he flushed an embarrassed shade of red, belatedly realizing that I was expecting a verbal response. "Y-yes, S-Sawada-san." He mumbled, twiddling his thumbs together, "I'm just waiting for the go-ahead."
The go-ahead?
My eyebrows must have furrowed in confusion because the part-Italian gestured to Tsuna with his chin. The slender brunette had his back turned to us, checking a mental checklist as he examined the bag—for what seemed like the fifth time in thirty minutes.
My forehead cleared and I laughed silently, shaking my head in amusement. "Don't be nervous." I told the silverette fondly, "He's always like this."
A conflicted expression flitted into his face, along with an uncertain glint in his green eyes, but the look cleared as he relaxed, nodding along. He shoved his hands into his pocket and ended the conversation with a quiet shrug.
I amusedly glanced at him from the corner of my eyes—what a messy way to tie off an exchange of information; the boy had much to learn—and decided that it was the right time. I discreetly navigated my way through the living room until I stood right beside him.
Without much fanfare, I handed him a carefully prepared box of bento. "Fast food lunches are expensive nowadays." I explained casually, pretending to miss the shell-shocked way he gaped at the package. Tsuna had woken me thirty minutes early to pour some well-deserved focus on that meal. "I hope you'll like it."
"Y-You shouldn't have, Sawada-san-!" He choked out, eyes as wide as my china plates. His hands were, for the lack of a better word, flailing about. It looked like he was torn between slapping the box away and accepting it graciously.
In the end, he tried to push the box back to me, spluttering out unintelligible words all the while. I easily dodged his clumsy swipes. "We insist." I replied firmly, losing the smile for the first time around him. "Please take this bento, Gokudera-kun. You are basically family now—even if we aren't related by blood, you have been really kind and good to Tsuna and me. It is the least we can do."
Gokudera froze at the statement, comically in a kung-fu pose. My secret amusement only grew at the sight.
Tsuna, in the background, finally straightened and declared the other boy ready to leave, and the Sky-flame User's tenor seemed to snap the Storm Guardian out of it. Gokudera dropped the chop-chop stance and mechanically accepted the box.
I allowed a small smile to bloom back into my face.
With small tremors shaking his hand, he meticulously tucked the bento into his messenger's bag. I made a note to gradually shower him more affection until he got used to it. Being love-deprived without proper guidance and correction later on would cause him some personal problems.
"T-Thank you." He whispered, bowing his head. The shadows hid his expression remarkably. "I will make sure to enjoy it." He swore.
Now that seemed more like him, I thought triumphantly, grinning at my victory. I patted his shoulder. "No need to be so formal around me, kid." I chuckled, moving to ruffle his hair. I decided against it at the last second, "You'll do me a great honor of calling me auntie, if you'd like." I said instead.
He straightened up like he'd been struck by lightning. "Of course, Saw-uh, oba-san!" He cried heatedly, eyes suspiciously misty, "Thank you again for allowing me to stay for the night! I'll be back in two days!"
"You be careful!" Tsuna exclaimed just as heatedly, surprising me with his vehemence. I blinked at the boy—his fist pumped, an intense gleam in his otherwise timid eyes, legs set apart—but said nothing. "Who will be my right hand man-" He froze for a millisecond and glanced at me. I earnestly stared at Gokudera, putting on an indifferent and oblivious air. The boy swallowed and continued with impressive fluency, like he hadn't just blunder, "-if you're gone?"
"Of course, Jyuudaime!" Gokudera mock-saluted with a poignant choke. He took his bag and turned, nodding to me briefly before he left the confines of the Sawada house.
Both Tsuna and I watched him leave through the window, my son even going as far as parting the curtains obscuring the corners. Gokudera's distinct silver hair disappeared completely from sight not too long after.
The shorter boy lingered for a few minutes more, biting his lower lip and muttering under his breath. I rolled my eyes and ushered him into the bathroom's direction. "He's going to be just fine." I assured him gently, trying for an encouraging smile. "Stop being such a mother hen and change now. Gokudera-kun said he's done this a million times before." I scolded with an exasperated sigh. When he hesitated, I went for the kill.
"You promised Reborn to jog with him in fifteen minutes, yes?" I chided, turning to the hitman for confirmation.
The infant looked up from where he was diligently taking down notes—probably about Tsuna's mothering mode, which he would definitely take advantage of, knowing him—and nodded curtly, a cruel shadow darkening his face. The dim lights from the lamps only made him the more menacing, his features sharper and more spine-chilling despite the cherub qualities of his baby face. I had to hand it to him, he was absolutely magnificent with the task of appearing hostile.
At the reminder, my son grew a horrid shade of pasty white. I would've been worried if I hadn't experienced it before, with Katsumi-sama.
The path to strength always isn't the easy one, I mused to myself dryly.
Instead of babying him some more, I sent Tsuna a mental good luck and patted his back. Tsuna was learning many things under Reborn's (im)patient instruction, dodging being first and foremost, and he was steadily improving. I was surprised he hadn't accidentally revealed his ability with firearms yet, though I did catch him curiously staring at the hitman's gun and Dying Will bullets several times now.
Granted, as far as I knew, Tsuna had only experienced the Dying Will Mode once. That certainly explained his sudden 'enthusiasm' for studying—he was trading his cooperation in for information. It was working, too. Even Reborn seemed pleased, in his own stoic little infant way.
With a motivating push from myself, Tsuna hurriedly stumbled towards the bathroom, attempting to (and succeeding) avoid collision with everything on his path. I made a show of laughing silently under my breath before returning to the dining area, setting the platters and the plates.
The sun was barely up, and a frigid cold still lingered in the air, gradually being beaten away as the heat made itself known. It was still early in the morning, when Gokudera left on a two-day trip to restock for dynamite and other explosives.
Of course, that wasn't the story the two boys fed me, because woe was the day Tsuna would willingly tell his mother that his first friend carried around things that could destroy two buildings in a single go and that he was the heir to one of the bloodiest underground organizations in the world.
The principle still stood anyway. Basically, I knew, even though they lied.
This time around, Gokudera's absence was organized. I had signed an excuse slip so that he could retake any tests he would miss during his two days of leave. Tsuna was adamant in supervising every moment of the preparation—the two teens had bonded overnight detailing a list of explosives, train schedules and routes, and other little trinkets Gokudera was more than happy to regale his boss about.
Tsuna was now twenty-seven percent more knowledgeable about items that went boom, if that was what you wanted to know.
More importantly, I said to myself as I finished putting up the third plate, fluidly moving to get the chopsticks, this day also marked one of the important events in the manga—in Tsuna's life, I reminded myself.
Yamamoto Takeshi was a big problem.
I had only met the future Rain Guardian once, when he was a hardly out of childhood. Curiosity had been nigh impossible to resist, and as a result I dropped by his father's sushi shop during its grand opening.
It had been a pleasant affair; most of the people from the neighborhood and the market were present—Yamamoto Tsuyashi, or was it Tsuyoshi, was very kind and accommodating. His son even more so. Takeshi had been a polite, cheerful young boy, boasting his father's dishes and service. I distinctly remember ushering Tsuna to make friends with the other boy—a risky, experimental move to bring their friendship about earlier, but Tsuna had been very shy as a child.
At the present, I knew next to nothing about Tsuna and Yamamoto's relationship. Whether they were friends, acquaintances, perhaps even enemies (hopefully not), I had absolutely no clue.
While Tsuna and I shared a close mother-son bond, there were just things he would never volunteer to tell me. Boys were like that, I've learned through out the years. They were practical, never too excess, and just the right amount.
According to the manga, Tsuna would talk to Yamamoto today, when the baseball player would ask for some advice. Some unknown time later (perhaps the day after?) Yamamoto would jump off the building, only to be saved by Tsuna.
I was scared.
There were several good reasons just why.
Firstly, my Tsuna was not the canon Tsuna.
Admittedly, he was close, but even the smallest difference could change the bigger picture. I could only predict Tsuna's actions for so long until it all goes wrong. He could care less about whatever the baseball player got himself into.
This matter, in particular, was going to be a constant problem through out my whole life.
Maybe Yamamoto wouldn't even approach Tsuna. Tsuna hadn't done the Mochida incident, giving Yamamoto no reason to remotely 'admire' the brunette, and what if he just straight up hangs himself or cuts or-
"Mama? Are you alright?"
I snapped out of my thoughts and glanced down at the voice's source. Upon recognizing Reborn, I forced a smile and put down the chopsticks before I damaged them any further. One, two, three, four, five, six, two for each of us three. All relatively unharmed. Except one. One looked ready to snap into two. "Oh, I'm sorry." I said, straightening, "I'm just-" I inhaled and breathed out slowly, counting to five.
"I'm worried." I admitted finally.
"About Gokudera."
It wasn't a question.
My hands fisted the apron of my skirt as a warning to myself. I was dealing with Reborn. Reborn. I needed to think Nadeshiko. Channel a canon Nana.
Pausing for a moment—don't answer too quickly, don't answer too slowly, transparency, transparency was the key—I slumped my shoulders down. I was 'ashamed' at being caught. "Yes." I replied softly, turning to collect the glasses and serving utensils. Don't offer an explanation, I told myself firmly.
"Have some faith, Mama." Reborn replied monotonously. I took a glance at his face and hid a grimace; his face was unreadable.
When wasn't it?
I let my thoughts drift at the sudden silence in the kitchen.
Another reason was the ripples Yamamoto and Tsunayoshi would create. This was the real world now. Jumping off a building (if, a part of me whispered cruelly) wasn't just a tiny thing to be brushed off, like it had been in the manga. It would create a scandal, police presence, trauma, media attention, and wary eyes. All the wrong eyes on the wrong people.
Thirdly, this was a life on the line. Yamamoto's life. Yamamoto, who was as real as I was. He wasn't just some character anymore—he was a teenager with social problems that teenagers from my world had. He's a child with no real friends, unable to find an answer exactly why.
I sighed and took three dry glasses, face crumbling tiredly. "Too much faith is bad too, Reborn-kun." I said sadly, noticing that his shadow, as a whole, seemed to grow far longer than what his physical form allowed. It was amazingly terrifying. "Too much is bad, too." I repeated, more to myself.
Tsunayoshi
The short note hastily scribbled on a one-fourth sheet of paper Gokudera left him had been frantically reread eighteen times, and yet Tsuna still couldn't believe his silver-haired friend.
Jyuudaime, he imagined Gokudera saying in his mind, I've left you in the baseball idiot's care. He may be an idiot, but he is capable enough. Tch. I apologize for my inability to accompany you for two days. Please take care of yourself!
And then he spent eighty seconds staring at the grinning face of Yamamoto Takeshi.
"Yo, Sawada-san!" Yamamoto greeted once Tsuna finally sank down on his chair and began breathing again. It was perplexing, how happy the raven-haired teen was despite the upset look on the brunette's face. But then again, the other boy was always smiling to the point that it was uncomfortable.
Yamamoto leaned forward and lightly rapped Tsuna's desk with his knuckles. "Gokudera was very convincing," He began cheerfully. Translated into normal speak, that meant the smoking delinquent had been very threatening, the brunette thought dryly, smacking his own forehead, "So you'll be hanging out with me for some time! Haha, isn't that great?" The heart throb exclaimed. He was seated on the chair facing the armrest, legs wide apart and arms crossed over the top rail. He was also tilting the chair backwards (forward, in his point of view). All in all, as comfortable as a weasel.
Tsuna wanted to hit something so badly.
Curious heads turned to the unusual pair, the whispers spreading like wildfire. He was more worried with the fact that what was he supposed to say ?
Hazel eyes turned sad for a split second. "Unless you don't want to, hah?" The baseball player chuckled, tilting his head to the side.
Tsuna flushed, "Oh no, no no no no no, you got it all wrong, Yamamoto-san!" He whispered, self-consciously shrinking against the speculative stares directed to the back of his head. He shifted uncomfortably and lowered his voice, until he was whispering. "I'm actually happy you took the t-time to actually spend time with me. It's just that, ahm," He looked down and fidgeted, "I'm n-not the most eloquent and friendly of p-people. You're better off without me." He explained with a wince.
The eyes cleared and turned sharp. The grin was back on the other boy's face. "Haha, what are you talking about, Sawada-san?" Yamamoto asked good-naturedly, ruffling the brunette's fluffy hair. He spoke loudly, causing a bit of discomfort to ease up on the eavesdroppers' faces. "You're a nice kid! Our scores even match, hmm?"
The tips of the brunette's ears turned bright red at the reminder. "Y-Yeah, but-" He protested.
"So no complaints, yeah?" The taller boy interrupted smilingly.
Tsuna swallowed and resigned himself to agreeing. Not that Yamamoto was bad company—in fact, Yamamoto was good company—it was just that, well, Yamamoto was Yamamoto.
"Okay then." He sighed some seconds later, producing a crooked smile to placate the other boy. He didn't want the other to think that he was forced to agree, even though that was mostly it. The thought of furthering his friendship with the raven-haired boy was not unpleasant, but not entirely comfortable, either. He would just have to test the waters, then. "That is, um, i-if I'm not a bother." He added hastily.
He was glad to see the baseball player's smile turn a little more genuine at the statement. Less of polite and more of honest. True. Tsuna decided he liked the real smile better. It wasn't as big as the ones Yamamoto usually wore, but it held a hint of emotion, emotion that Tsuna identified as human. Being human was a good thing.
For the past few years, Yamamoto had been anything but human in his mind—Yamamoto was always that unreachable, perfect image everyone wanted to see.
Glancing at that little, happy smile again, Tsuna decided that he was very, very wrong. Yamamoto wasn't perfect; he thought he had only imagined it before, but now he knew—he identified the little jealous looks he would receive sometimes, the tiny off-handed questions—no, not questions, reassurances that they were friends-
Yamamoto, despite being better than Tsuna by a whole lot, had just been as lonely as he was.
But now Tsuna had Gokudera, and Yamamoto was left in the dust.
Tsuna bent forward and gently placed his cheek against the cold desk. He shivered at the cool, and decided that no one should be left alone.
"Haha, now that's the spirit!" Yamamoto exclaimed, retreating the hand ruffling the smaller boy's hair. Tsuna smiled hesitantly and half-heartedly reached up his own to fix the spiky mane he called hair. "Thanks, Yamamoto-san." He said gratefully, smoothing down the unruly strands, "I r-really appreciate it."
Yamamoto rested his chin on his forearm and gave him a close-eyed grin. "No problem, Sawada-san! Hahaha, it'll be like an adventure! We're friends, aren't w-"
There it was, the reassurance-
"Oi." A feminine voice interrupted wryly, and startled, Tsuna jolted up, turning to look at whoever interrupted their conversation.
Dark wavy hair and narrowed eyes greeted him, and he quickly put a name to the face. Kurokawa Hana. Without meaning to, he relaxed and smiled at her familiar presence, pleased to talk to a familiar friend. "Ah, good morning Kurokawa-san!" He exclaimed softly, giving her a small wave, "Is Sasagawa-san feeling better?" He asked politely.
The dark haired girl snorted and sat down Tsuna's desk, sending Yamamoto an inscrutable glance from her peripheral vision. She patted Tsuna's hair. "Of course she is." She answered sharply, smirking, "It was just cramps. Kyoko's a strong girl. It's not possible for cramps to take her down."
"Mmhm." Tsuna agreed quietly, looking over the girl's shoulder to smile at Yamamoto. The other boy was silently observing the two, a polite smile painted on his lips.
Blinking owlishly at the sudden loss of that real warmth, Tsuna cleared his throat, "Um, Yamamoto-san, I don't know if the two of you had met before, but this is Kurokawa-san. Sometimes Sasagawa-san hangs out with me too."
"We've spoken a couple of times." Hana responded dryly, sparing the other raven-haired person another sideways glance. "It's hard to talk to Yamamoto-san, though. He's always surrounded by his popular groupie." She said, shrugging. "Is he bothering you, Sawada?"
Yamamoto's smile turned forced.
Now, Tsuna might be a little slow when it came to the academics, but he wasn't an idiot. A part of him was screaming—his Sixth Sense, he identified mentally—that things would go wrong if he didn't interrupt.
So Tsuna lightly smacked Hana's arm, frowning at her disapprovingly. "What are you talking about, Kurokawa-san?" He exclaimed exasperatedly, ignoring her sullen pout, "Yamamoto's my friend-" He smiled at the baseball player embarrassedly, "-and I'm perfectly happy spending time with him! Stop acting all gangster-like. It doesn't suit you."
She rolled her eyes and flipped her hair, "Whatever you say." She scoffed, hopping off the desk. Tsuna cracked a smile at her poor imitation of a snobbish rich kid and Hana mirrored the smile with a dazzling grin of her own a second later, a silent laugh escaping her lips, "Alright then, I'm afraid I'm going to have to cut this conversation short." She mumbled, "I have to snatch Kyoko away before her boyfriend hogs her all to himself, the selfish prick."
"It's true, then?" Yamamoto spoke for the first time, with a bit of polite interest underlying his voice, "Sasagawa-san is dating Mochida?"
"Yup." Hana replied, popping the last letter of her answer. "Au revoir, mannish baseball player and delicate birdie. Until we meet again!" She turned around and stalked away, bringing out a phone to text her auburn haired friend.
Yamamoto and Tsuna stared at her retreating back. "She's a bit dramatic." Tsuna dryly offered a few minutes later, shaking his head mirthfully. Yamamoto answered with a small snicker, nodding along in agreement, "Haha, you got that right."
The two shared a glance and smiled.
"I-I don't t-think this is a good idea." Tsuna stammered out, attempting to plant his feet flat on the ground. He failed. Compared to the other boy's developed arms and legs, Tsuna was like a twig.
Yamamoto shook his head and continued to drag the brunette along the path to the baseball field. The two had just finished cleaning up the gym after a failed P.E. class of, ironically, baseball.
"You're being ridiculous, Sawada-san!" The baseball player pointed out the obvious. "Haha, you'll only be watching! And because of that DC thing with Mochida-" The Kendo club captain had been caught skipping class to look for his girlfriend's missing notes, and in return received holy retribution and judgment from the patrolling Discipline Committee members, "-the school guards won't let us out until five-thirty! You have loads of time!"
He had a point, Tsuna mused thoughtfully, but a part of him was still hesitant to observe Yamamoto practice. He was fine with just Yamamoto, but with other people around...
He would admit it; Tsuna wanted to be friends with everyone, but he himself wasn't the friendliest of people.
"Fine." He relented with a deep sigh, realizing with no small amount of surprise that he could not say no to the hopeful face of Yamamoto Takeshi. It scared him a little, but he noted to keep the leash lenient until they become close. Now that would be a good time to discipline.
That...sounded wrong, he thought, freezing in his tracks. He vaguely heard Yamamoto make a confused noise, but then he was too busy shaking off the disgusted chills that tickled his spine.
To continue acting naturally, Tsuna trotted along the taller teen, jogging to keep up with the other's long strides. He cursed his short legs and began to bleach his mind of his earlier thoughts. There was no need to think about that.
"But...just try to protect me from your t-teammates, kay?" He stuttered, "I know they're not a-all that bad but I'm horrible at s-small talk and sports. Even worse if they're put t-together."
"You don't like sports?" Yamamoto asked owlishly, as if the very concept of disliking sports was foreign to him.
Maybe to him, it was, Tsuna thought with a sweat-drop. He allowed himself to grin sheepishly. "Sports d-don't like me, is more like i-it." He admitted.
"Come to think of it, you always skip out whenever we play physical games in class...if not, you always get injured..."
"You didn't have it to say it." He berated, flushing a bright red, "I-I know how u-unawesome I am."
"Hahaha, unawesome isn't a word, Sawada-san!"
Before Tsuna could properly reply, he was cut off by another voice.
"Yo, Yamamoto! 'S nice to see you came!"
The two boys snapped out of their conversation at the holler from the center field. The whole team already seemed complete, dressed in uniform as they were and stretching. A stern-looking coach waved in greeting, and then pointed to the baseball club room.
Yamamoto nodded and waved back enthusiastically, "I'll be back in a jiffy!" He hollered back.
"Counting on it! Now scram, you're wasting your time!"
Tsuna meekly observed from the side, split between retreating like a coward and trailing after Yamamoto, who was now headed to the lockers. He allowed himself a moment of cowardice before following the other boy to the famous baseball club room—it was like the prestigious hang-out place of popular students. He was kind of curious what the inside looked like. Did they have a flat screen television, like the rumors said?
Tsuna doubted it. Something that expensive in a place where middle school boys had free reign to bats and balls? It was like a recipe asking for disaster.
Maybe that was just his cheap side talking, though.
"Sawada-san, please wait here." Yamamoto requested as he put his bag on a desk and began to head for the changing room. Tsuna was too busy examining the room to give a decent reply—it didn't look too impressive at first glance, but it felt pretty comfortable. Homey, even. He drifted over to a shelf of trophies and stared disinterestedly, biting his lower lip. There was no flat-screen TV.
Distracting himself from getting socially anxious wasn't working, he realized a few minutes later, observing the field's reflection from the glass case.
Without giving it much thought, he gave the window a cursory glance. It turned out to be a mistake, because just as he was moving to examine the baseball players, said baseball players were already burning holes to the back of his head. He flinched with a squeak and quickly turned back to the shelf , biting back a horrified cry—it was humiliating. They were staring at him...like he was an item on display. And frankly, it unsettled him down to his very bones.
Timidly, he scratched the back of his neck and this time actually tried to read the words etched on the trophies, just to kill time.
Faintly, he was able to catch some chuckles from outside. "He's so shy!" One person remarked amusedly, "Like a mouse. It's...cute."
Answering hoots and cat calls echoed all around the field. Another voice rang out clearly, "Don't tell me, sempai, that you're..." Tsuna could feel a pun coming up, "...batting for the other team?"
The familiar sound of someone being hit over the head reached his ears. A mortified blush crept down Tsuna's neck, and he bemusedly noted that he was beginning to resemble a tomato. He squeezed his eyes shut and groaned in second-hand embarrassment, covering his face with a hand.
"Shisui, admit it, he looks like a girl!"
"Stop being loud, you two. We're killing Sawada-san."
He glanced at the glass's reflection and groaned once more, seeing that one member was gesturing to him. Shameless people.
Not really knowing what to do anymore, he half-twisted his torso around and flailed, "N-No!" He hollered, "P-Please, don't mind me!"
Equally embarrassed expressions sheepishly crossed the faces of the players and they waved back, shouting their apologies.
"You can watch from here, if you want."
Tsuna jerked in surprise—when had Yamamoto exited the changing room?—and jumped, almost tipping over a lamp. With an alarmed shout he reached for it and caught it just in time. He didn't need to pay for something expensive, thank you very much.
Seeing that the porcelain vase was now safe in his arms, he released a relieved sigh and returned it to its rightful perch, smiling hesitantly. "P-Please?" He requested. "I can sit on the couch and just watch you from the window." He suggested lowly.
Yamamoto grinned and stretched his arms back. "Haha, that was what I was thinking! As long as you're comfy, man. Be awed by my baseball prowess as you watch!" He flashed him a thumbs-up and Tsuna eagerly returned it, shuffling to the couch.
The taller boy crossed the room and unzipped his backpack, humming a jaunty tune under his breath. After rifling through its contents, he pulled out a bat (Tsuna wondered how on Earth the other boy could fit it there, but then Gokudera literally had bombs attached to his body) and tipped his baseball cap forward. "Don't let my teammates get to you." The baseball player laughed, opening the door to leave. He flashed Tsuna a big smile, "They're shameless sempais, yah, but they're good people."
A small amused smile made its way to Tsuna's lips. He opened his mouth and breathed out, shifting on the couch, until he sat on a comfortable position. "I can tell!" He exclaimed, eying the team of players loitering outside. They were all older than Yamamoto and he, all almost graduating.
With one last chuckle, Yamamoto gently closed the door behind him and jogged to the field. Obviously, he was enjoying having a friend watch him play. He was enjoying sharing something he dearly loved to someone he liked. That made the brunette really really happy.
Tsuna crossed his arms and laid a cheek on a forearm, letting his head loll to the side. He knew nothing about the game, but it was exciting to watch Yamamoto play. He seemed really happy, even performing better than before, judging by the pleased look on the coach's face.
With a content sigh, he allowed his eyelids to flutter shut.
He was just...going to take...a short..nap..
"Argh!"
Tsuna's head snapped up, his forehead almost bashing against the window. Blearily he rubbed his face, stifling a loud yawn. He blinked once, and twice, and then frowned, troubled.
His Sixth Sense was telling that something was very very wrong. It was unnerving, with the way his chest felt heavy and his stomach felt cramped.
He glanced at the field and furrowed his eyebrows—someone (was that Yamamoto-san?!) was kneeling on the center, clutching an arm to his chest with an expression of excruciating pain. His teammates were rushing towards him, shouting.
Before he knew it, he was already running out the door.
"You're such a great help, Reborn-kun." I sighed peacefully, shaping the last of the cookies to a pointy star. At the last minute I put a hole in the center. Now it was a shuriken cookie. "Tsuna usually hates getting his fingers sticky with the cookie-making process, so it's a nice change to have someone helping me out." I pondered out loud.
"Hn." The hitman replied, carefully washing the dough off his hands. His own batch of weapon-shaped cookies was neatly arranged on a crispy clean tray. I mentally laughed at the absurdity of the situation—because come on, baking cookies with Reborn? It sounded like a bad cooking show.
Shaking my head, I washed my own hands and put the two trays in the oven, setting it on a timer. My cheeks were caked in flour and my kitchen was a right mess, but spending leisure time with the Sun Arcobaleno was worth it. Unsurprisingly, he was flawlessly good company.
"Now, why don't we clean up?" I asked laughingly, placing one hand on my hip while the other gestured to the counter. There were stacks of bowls already sunken in water to soften the hardened flour, the water browning due to the remains of the chocolate batter. The mixer also distinctly reeked of eggs and honey.
As I moved to turn the faucet on, shrill ringing sounded from the living room, destroying the tranquil quiet the house contained. Reborn hopped to the sink, a small apron fit against his suit. "Please answer the phone, Mama." He requested, motioning to the living room with his head, "I will take care of this."
At his offer, I nodded gratefully and tiredly took off my own apron. "I'll be back in a bit." I promised, drifting to the land line, wondering who would call at such a time.
Only one way to find out, I thought to myself as I picked up the receiver and cleared my throat. "Hello?" I said politely, "Who is this please?"
"Hello, good afternoon. This is Namimori Middle School's principal, Okanao Amase. May I speak to Sawada Nana?"
Namimori Middle School? Why would they call me?
A sense of foreboding made its way to my chest. I forced myself to speak. "This is she." I replied pleasantly, smiling even though no one could see it, "What is it, Okanao-sensei?"
"This concerns your son, Sawada Tsunayoshi."
Dread began to pool at the pit of my stomach.
I hated that feeling.
"What..." I began carefully, a dangerous undertone of pure steel unconsciously making its way to my voice, "What about him?"
The principal seemed to sense it though, because I heard an almost inaudible swallow from the other end. He cleared his throat uncomfortably, "Tsunayoshi was involved in an accident earlier. He's been accompanied by his advisor and the baseball club to the Namimori Medical Hospital, seeing as the clinic was unable to-"
I slammed the phone down and swiped the brown coat slung over the rack, rattling the piece of furniture with the force I accidentally applied to it. My heart was pounding, and there was this painful feeling of hearing—feeling—blood rush to my brain. It was oddly pulse-like.
"Reborn, stay here for now." I heard myself say urgently, voice cracking, not insincerely, "Lock the doors and don't let anyone besides me and Tsuna in, okay? I'll call home and explain once I get to the hospital."
And then I was out the door, pulling it shut behind me, and hailing a cab.
One pulled off in front of me and I fluidly slid inside, meeting the driver's eyes through the rear-view mirror. I think I scared him with how grave I looked. "To Namimori Medical Hospital." I barked, banging the door shut, "Quickly!"
A/N: This is unbeta-ed, so please, feel free to point out any grammatical or spelling mistakes! Did I make someone OOC? Is it too rushed? Or did it get too unrealistic?
Oh, and, I'm not making everyone who isn't a main character in the series a douchebag. Because people have their own personalities and there are some people who are just nice!
GUESS WHO'S MEETING IN THE NEXT CHAPTER? The hint's somewhere in Nana's POV. Muwahahaha, I can't wait!
Please leave a review, guys. Tell me what you think! ALSO, I am thanking everyone for his or her support to Casalinga! Four hundred follows and half-past three-hundred and fifty favorites? This really makes me happy! I didn't expect this fanfic to go so big... /tears
Have a good day!
Edited: 8/4/2014. Thank you for pointing that one out, Sethera-san!
