"If only my heart were as cold as I pretend it is, maybe I could get over this." – Jessica Katoff
School started like any other day, except for the fact that everyone was talking about the shooting yesterday. Yoichi dutifully scribbled notes in his notebook but none of them were processing in his head. He just felt so frustrated and angry—that stupid baby hitman wasn't helping with the unnecessary stress. Emiko glanced at him worriedly from the corner of her eye, but he didn't bother to look up and reassure her.
Ota-sensei's dull voice droned in the background, meshing with the other students' enthusiastic chatter. Yoichi just sighed softly before taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes. Why couldn't Namimori just stay like it was before? Before he found out that his father was in the fucking mafia? He didn't even care about the man who basically walked out on them. If he thought his family would be convinced with the stupid igloo postcards he sent occasionally, that man was stupider than Yoichi had thought. Vongola Decimo or not—he'd gladly hand it over to Shinzo, who was more than suited for the role.
All he wanted was to live life without any hassles. He wanted to go to high school, graduate college, and go into politics—definitely not mafia material. But all his plans flushed down the drain when Reborn showed up in his home, spouting some nonsense about Vongola and Decimo, and shattering whatever hopes he had in having a normal future. Yoichi tried to convince himself that he was just dreaming and somehow stuck in some bizarre shōnen manga, but Reborn's rubber bullets and ridiculous hammer weren't helping.
"—ent from Italy so make him feel welcomed, alright?" Ota-sensei's voice snapped him out of his thoughts.
Yoichi looked up and blinked. A new student? Well, that wasn't strange but who would transfer to Namimori of all places? From Italy noneth—Oh… Oh. His hands clenched into fists.
The transfer student looked like a delinquent, which was fine to the already squealing fangirls. He had silver hair, which was odd, shaped almost like an octopus and somewhat narrow green eyes. He looked mixed, probably half-Japanese and half-Italian. Rings and wristbands adorned his hands, some carved to look like skulls, and he wasn't wearing his uniform properly. He was lucky that Hibari wasn't in school today. The prefect would "bite him to death".
"Why don't you tell us a little about yourself, Gokudera-san?" Ota-sensei said. "It's rare for us to have a foreign student join a school like ours. What prompted you to come here?
The boy scowled, as if he had better things to do with his time, before asking, "Where's my seat?"
Ota-sensei blinked, obviously unaccustomed to such a blatant, rude attitude. "Erm, well, you'll be sitting behind Yoichi. He's in the corner over there."
Kami, no. Yoichi warily watched the other boy stroll casually down the aisles; however, when he passed Shinzo, he kicked his desk to the ground, startling everyone in the room.
"Hey, what the hell's your problem?" his brother shouted, standing up from his seat.
"It was in the way," Gokudera said, glaring back.
Yoichi flinched when the boy sauntered to the seat behind him and plopped down in his chair, which scraped noisily against the floor. Class slowly resumed when Shinzo managed to get his desk back into order. His brother continued to send glares at Gokudera's way, promising murder. Occasionally, Gokudera kicked the back of his chair. He didn't move or acknowledge him, praying that school would end already. During one of the class breaks, Gokudera purposely tripped him up, only silently challenging him to fight back. Yoichi, like the coward he was, just continued to ignore him.
He was certain Reborn had something to do with Gokudera's appearance. Who the hell would come to Namimori from Italy anyways? He had never hated the stupid baby hitman more than he did now.
The Debate Team quickly took advantage of Hibari's absence after school. They gathered in their usual meeting place on the second floor and waited for a few more members to arrive.
"Yo-kun, are you okay?" Emiko said worriedly. "You look really tired."
Yoichi just grunted. His muscles were sore as hell and his legs felt like jelly. How Reborn managed to make him run laps during P.E. he'd never know. He hoped Shinzo was suffering just the same, if not more than he was.
"What happened to you?" Hana said, raising a delicate brow. She crinkled her nose. "You stink, monkey."
"Sorry," Yoichi grumbled, raising his head. "No time to shower."
Not when someone was shooting rubber bullets at your feet. That wasn't training, that was torture. He sighed when the last member walked in. The debate team wasn't the largest club in the school, but there was a decent amount of people. They were mostly the smartest kids in their classes so there wasn't too much drama going on other than some inflated egos.
"Alright," he said once they were all seated. "I don't know when Hibari will be back so I want to get this over with as quickly as possible.
Some of the members grimaced, remembering the times when they were unlucky.
"How's Nishimura-sensei?" Daichi piped up. "Is she okay?"
Emiko grinned. "Yup! Satou-san said that she'll be fine in a few days."
"Satou?" Hana said, her brows furrowing. "That monkey doctor?"
Emiko rolled her eyes. "Satou-san's great, Hana-chan. Really!" She swooned a bit. "He's so cool! And handsome too!"
"Weren't you there yesterday?" Fumiko said, her eyes shining in excitement. "Did you see him when he performed the surgery? Tell us what happened!"
Emiko laughed sheepishly. "Well, we didn't see him perform the surgery."
"We just happened to be there," Yoichi interjected, before Emiko could say anything she'd regret. They'd promised Satou-san and the other doctors to not tell the truth, which was just messed up in his opinion. He scoffed. Private establishments like the hospital would cover up anything scandalous, and this would've clearly tore Namimori apart. "He offered to help one of the doctors there because they were short-staffed."
Makoto whistled. "Damn, that's so cool." He grinned. "Like a hero coming in to save the day! Hey, did you guys read that manga where people had these things called Quirks and—"
"What's he like?" Reiko interrupted, twirling a strand of her glossy black hair. "I heard that he goes through the morgue to experiment on the corpses' organs. He stabbed a pen in Nishimura-sensei's chest, right? Did you also meet the foreigner lady that came with him? Some people are saying she's Hitler's great-great-grandniece."
Yoichi blinked a couple of times, processing what she just said. Hana literally face-palmed. Okay…what?
"Satou-san is one of the nicest people I've ever met!" Emiko said. "And he stabbed the pens in her sides. Kami, she'd die from that. Did you listen to the biology lessons at all? Ema-san isn't Hitler's great-great-grandniece. They're not even related. Where the heck did you get that idea?"
"Her last name's not Hitler?" Reiko said, confused.
Emiko let out a shuddering breath, trying to reign in her temper. "It's Holst. Her name's Ema Holst."
Reiko pursed her lips. "Oh, okay." She narrowed her eyes. "Are you sure? She could have a different name to prevent any kind of controversy."
Never mind them being the smartest in their classes. They were all idiots.
"Right," Yoichi exclaimed, trying to gain control of the room. "We have a practice match with Midori Middle next Tuesday so—"
"Hey, hey, do you think he'll ever come visit again?" Makoto interrupted. "Wasn't Nezu-sensei his teacher or something? It'd be so cool to see him." He pouted. "I was sick that day. Can't believe I missed it."
Yoichi's brow twitched. Everyone in the room suddenly went quiet when Yoichi looked up and smiled. "If you don't come to Midori Middle by 3:30, I'll personally see to it that you'll become Hibari-san's personal punching bag."
Everyone nodded, their eyes wide. Emiko stifled a giggle and Hana rolled her eyes.
"Great. See you then."
They scrambled for their bags and dashed out of the room within seconds. Fumiko was the only one who waved goodbye.
Emiko sighed. "I'll message them in case."
Hana pursed her lips. "They're impossible."
"Oh, Hana-chan, we saw your father yesterday at the hospital." Emiko smiled. "He seemed very nice."
The other girl packed her bag quietly and slung it over her shoulder. "Thanks." Her voice was a bit tight. She glanced at Yoichi. "Get me the Midori team roster by tonight, monkey. Enjoy your weekend."
Emiko waved. "Oh, bye, Hana-chan! See you Monday!"
After Hana left, Emiko huffed. "She's so mean."
"Just leave her alone," Yoichi said, packing his bag. "I'm going to head home. I'll see you Monday."
Emiko nodded as they closed the door behind him. "Bye, Yo-kun!"
He waved dismissively over his shoulder before heading out of the school gates. Vaguely, he wondered if Reborn was with Shinzo, but he brushed that thought aside. The stress accumulating in his mind was too much and he wasn't willing to malfunction from thinking about the two of them.
Instead of going home, he found himself at Namimori University Hospital, asking to visit his teacher again.
"Your teacher is showing good signs of recovery," one of the ICU nurses said with a smile. "But I'm afraid she's resting right now. You can come again another time."
Yoichi tried not to let his disappointment show. "Oh, okay. Thank you very much."
"Chino-san, can you get me a report on Hibari-san?" a familiar voice said.
The nurse blushed lightly when Satou-san appeared at the counter. "I'm sorry, Satou-san, but I was strictly informed not to give you that information."
The young doctor didn't even look surprised. He just sighed as if he expected it. "Great. Goddamn assholes are really pushing it."
The nurse flinched at the crude language. "A—Ano, Satou-san, I can…tell you if she's doing fine or not."
"That's useless if I don't have any of her information," Satou-san said, running a hand through his hair. "But I guess that'll do. Tell me."
"There were no signs of any abnormalities the last time she was checked. She's in stable condition."
"Who's her doctor?"
"I can't say."
Satou-san rolled his eyes. "Great." He turned around before realizing Yoichi's presence. "Oh, hey. You're Sawada Yoichi, right?"
The teen blinked, not expecting for the other person to remember him. "Ah, yes. It's a pleasure to meet you again, Satou-san."
He tensed when the doctor patted him on the back.
"Hey, relax. I don't bite." Satou-san grinned, which strangely calmed Yoichi down. The other's presence felt slightly strange compared to yesterday. It was faint for Yoichi, but Satou-san felt…oddly warm. He took a good look at the doctor and felt a bit uneasy at how exhausted he looked.
"Are you okay?" he blurted out. Yoichi slightly winced at how upfront he was.
Satou-san blinked before laughing. "Yeah, I'm fine, kid. I haven't eaten anything all day, except coffee." He pouted. "I wish the hospital had expresso but gotta settle for cheap coffee. Were you here to meet Nishimura-san? I passed by her room a few minutes ago and she was resting. You should come back tomorrow. I'm sure she'd appreciate it."
"Yeah," Yoichi said. "I heard."
"Come on," Satou-san said, gesturing towards the elevator. "I'll walk you out. Chino-san, I was never here."
The nurse giggled behind her hand. "Of course, Satou-san."
The pair walked inside the spacious elevator, Yoichi sneaking glances at the young man. Satou-san hummed a small tune to himself as he clicked the button for the first floor.
"Are you sure you're okay?" Yoichi said carefully.
Satou-san raised a brow but his lips twitched into a smile. "Kid, I'm fine. No need to worry about me. How are you holding up?"
"What do you mean?"
"I'm sure it was pretty traumatizing yesterday."
"Oh… I'm just trying not to think about it." Still, at night, he could still see the blood pouring out of Hibari-san's wound and Irie-san's hand trying to stop the bleeding. He shuddered, feeling a bit queasy. He always had a weak stomach.
Satou-san smiled sympathetically. "Yeah, I understand. I freaked out the first time I saw something like that. I had to be escorted out of the OR because I just froze. My sensei then was kind enough to lend her shoulder later."
"How did you…cope?"
"Well, I got used to it. The more operations I observed, the more desensitized I became." He pursed his lips. "I hope you don't see something like that again."
"I doubt it," Yoichi mumbled. Mafia, Vongola, and Reborn all came to mind.
Satou-san glanced at him with an unreadable expression, when the elevator dinged and slowly opened. They walked towards the entrance in a rather comfortable silence. Patients and a few doctors walked about in the lobby. Conversations and a few TV's buzzed in the background.
"Alright, kid," Satou-san said, smiling. "Get back home safe. No detours, no talking to strangers, no drugs. Stay in school!"
Yoichi looked at him as if he grew two heads. "I'm second in my grade."
"Oh, hey, that's great! Definitely stay in school." A small beep came from the doctor's pocket. He fished out his pager, glancing at the message. "Well, duty calls. Here." He handed Yoichi a piece of paper. "If you need someone to talk to, shoot me a text or something. See ya!"
"Wait!" Yoichi exclaimed.
Satou-san paused in his step, looking at him quizzically. "Yeah?"
Yoichi dug out the energy bar Emiko had given him during lunch and handed it to the doctor. "It's not much but…here. Please take it. I don't think the patients would appreciate a zombie for a doctor."
Satou-san smiled warmly and took the bar. Yoichi swore an almost pleasant hum reverberated in his own body. "Thanks. Get home safe!"
He gave him a two-finger salute before dashing off towards the ER. Yoichi slung his backpack over his shoulder and sighed. Kami, that was nerve-wracking. He couldn't help but smile though. Maybe Satou-san wasn't as bad as he seemed. Sure, Shinzo practically worshipped him (which he never knew or cared enough to find out) but he could kind of see why.
"Yo-baka," a squeaky voice said, "did you think I'd forget about your training?"
The teen froze, feeling a small weight on his shoulder.
"Shin-baka is at Yamamoto's house," Reborn said, tilting his fedora. "You have five minutes to get there and pass this to him."
He dropped a baton into Yoichi's outstretched hand.
"Wait—"
"There's no time to wait, Yo-baka. A mafia boss should always know when to strike." The baby hitman cocked his gun. "Four minutes."
"Shit!" Yoichi started to run. "Don't shoot! Don't shoot!"
If he could kill the hitman, he would. And he'd do it thoroughly.
Shinzo meticulously shifted through the dozens of requests from the clubs in his school for the upcoming bunka-sai, or Cultural Festival. There were only four weeks left and he really had get most of these approved, preferably by tomorrow. Then he wouldn't have the teachers and principal breathing down his back.
"Hey, Shinzo," Takeshi said from his desk. "Could you explain this to me again?"
"Sure." Shinzo knelt next to him, looking over the homework problem. "You forgot to do this." He quickly pointed out Takeshi's error, patiently explaining the concept again. His friend wasn't stupid. Takeshi was actually pretty smart if he put in the effort, but his mind was only focused on baseball.
Takeshi smiled. "Oh, okay. I get it now. You're a really good teacher, Shinzo."
Shinzo grinned. "What'd you expect from the best? Let me know if you need anything else."
Takeshi nodded in thanks before returning to his homework. Sure, it was really stupid of Shinzo to try to avoid Reborn—that fucking baby was a Shinigami, he called it—and he couldn't think of anything else but hiding out in Takeshi's house. It was probably futile and a matter of time before the hitman found him, but hey, it didn't hurt to try at least.
Shinzo checked off some requests from the underclassmen. Most of the ideas constituted of temporary cafés or restaurants, a haunted house, and some plays—nothing too out of the ordinary. It was pretty standard stuff every year. The only thing different was the kind of performances, but the festival was fun overall. When the sun set, they'd put up a large bonfire in the school yard (with constant supervision from the Disciplinary Committee, of course), roast marshmallows, and share ghost stories.
"Hey, Shinzo," Takeshi said.
"Hmm?"
"I keep thinking about yesterday and I can't help but feel bad for Tsuna-san and Akiko-san."
Shinzo paused in his work. Yesterday was pretty exciting, but there were so many things that pissed him off. And he couldn't tell anyone else what really happened in there. The hospital board basically told them and everyone else to keep their mouths shut.
"Yeah," he said bitterly. "That was really fucked up. I'm just glad they didn't get punished any further. I kind of feel bad for Hibari-san, too. I wouldn't mind joining him in beating them up though."
"Maa, maa, you don't have to go that far." Takeshi's smile didn't reach his eyes. "I'm sure everything will get better. Don't worry."
"Easy for you to say." Shinzo sighed. "Why can't I have your outlook on life, Takeshi? Must be nice to just…breeze through everything."
"I just like to look at the positive side of things," Takeshi said lightly.
"You're a good person, Takeshi. I don't think I can do that for too long."
They entered a somewhat awkward silence. Shinzo didn't miss the way Takeshi spaced out from time to time. He looked so serious that it kind of scared Shinzo. Takeshi was rarely serious. He was always happy and smiling that it was hard to comprehend he could be serious when he wanted to be.
"Penny for your thoughts?" Shinzo tried hard to keep his voice calm, not giving away his discomfort.
"Hmm?" Takeshi said, looking up from his work. He grinned. "Oh, sorry! I was just thinking about the upcoming match."
Shinzo raised a brow. "That's still not for another week. You think too much when it comes to baseball. You know, if you spent some of that time studying, maybe you could raise your grades."
He didn't mean to sound callous, but it was the truth. If they were wanted to go to Namimori High, they'd have to maintain a minimum average at least to qualify. Takeshi was just barely passing, and that put him in a tough spot. There weren't that many high schools in Namimori, but the popular ones filled up quickly. Namimori High just happened to be one of them.
His friend laughed. "Maybe. But this match is really important to us and I really want to beat Kokuyo. I promise that I'll study more after."
Shinzo sighed. Takeshi said that many times already that he lost count. "Yeah, just don't push yourself too hard. I know you've been sneaking out to practice on the weekends. Minoru saw you last week. That's not going to help you, Takeshi. Just relax. You're a good player. It's not like you're going to lose your skills overnight."
Takeshi's smile slightly faltered. "Right? They won't disappear overnight. The baseball gods won't do that to me." He grinned even more. "I'm not the ace for nothing!"
"Yeah, yeah, the baseball gods blessed you since you were born. Now go back to work. You've been on that for almost two hours now. You still have English and science left."
Takeshi nodded, suddenly pumped up with great enthusiasm. "Right! I'll do it! Hey, Shinzo, can we pitch a ball after?"
"We just did a few hours ago," Shinzo deadpanned. "Look, you need to—"
They both jumped when a rapid tapping sound came from the window. Shinzo stared at the window. Was that a hand?
"—nzo!" a muffled voice shouted. "Shinzo, open the fucking window! I'm going to fall!"
"Yo-chan?" Shinzo widened his eyes. "Yo-chan!"
He dashed towards the window, opened it, and pulled his younger brother inside.
Takeshi laughed. "What are you doing, Yoichi? Are you pretending to be a monkey?"
"Yo-chan, what the hell?" Shinzo said, looking over his sweaty brother for any injuries.
"Don't call me that," his brother panted, collapsing on the floor. "Go."
"Eh?"
Yoichi roughly slapped a baton in Shinzo's hand before pointing at the window. "Go find…shrine."
"Shrine? What shrine? Yo-chan, what—"
"Shin-baka, you have three seconds," a familiar squeaky voice said. The sound of a cocking gun made Shinzo freeze.
"Kami, no."
"Three seconds are up."
"Wait, no! That's unfair!"
Takeshi's laughter resounded in the background. "Maa, maa, you play well with your cousin."
"He's not my fucking cousin!" the twins screeched at the same time.
"Do you want to run to Osaka instead?"
Shinzo paled. "I'm going! Don't shoot me, Reborn!"
Reborn was a fucking demon incarnate and no one would tell him otherwise.
Gokudera fished out his eleventh cigarette and lit it swiftly with his lighter, sighing in sweet relief. He comfortably blew a stream of smoke from his chapped lips. He could barely get one in during school. For such cowardly teachers, they were pretty adamantly outspoken about smoking. Nearly everyone looked at him disapprovingly as he strolled throughout Namimori, but he didn't care. He could do whatever the fuck he wanted without anyone telling him otherwise, thank you very much.
The town was nothing remarkable like Reborn had told him, with the smallest population in Japan. It was in northwestern Nara Prefecture, near Kanmaki, and about 25 kilometers from Osaka city. By the time the sun set, Gokudera had already covered most of Namimori. He did admit that the town had some scenic sites; there were a few hills and pastures scattered in the more northern parts, though their beauty was more subdued and quiet compared to some towns in Italy. Castellucio came to mind, with its lush, fertile plains, filled with red poppies, violets, and rapeseed in springtime. Despite Gokudera's Japanese blood, he was born and raised in Italy, where his heart ultimately belonged.
Coming all the way from Italy for this? He would've told the other person to fuck off if it wasn't Reborn. He was also getting good money out of it. Reborn was no pushover, but Gokudera suspected the money was coming from Vongola's funds, not that he minded. He needed it to stock up on more explosives and pay his rent anyway. And if he somehow got into either candidate's good favor, it wouldn't be bad to have a position in Vongola. Besides, Gokudera thought bitterly, he owed Reborn for protecting his sister while they were dating. There were a couple of close calls but the hitman knew what he was doing. Just because Gokudera turned his back on his famiglia didn't mean that he didn't care about Bianchi, who was the closest thing to a family he had. He'd just never say it to her face. She'd never let him hear the end of it.
His first impression of the Decimo candidates was less than favorable, but he only knew their basic information that Reborn had informed him. The older one had potential, he guessed, but when his brother was involved, he'd drop everything to make sure he was safe. Whenever Gokudera kicked Yoichi's chair or tripped him during classes and breaks, he did admit that Shinzo could be terrifying when he glared at him. He had strong resolve, Gokudera had to give him that at least. Shinzo could care less about the mafia, which could make it easier for the candidacy battle. Less bloodshed if anything, but that wouldn't exempt him from being connected to Vongola.
There was some underlying tension between them that Gokudera couldn't understand. It was mostly one-sided, as Yoichi deliberately avoided his brother and only talked to him when it was necessary. Shinzo did a pretty good job covering up his disappointment. Gokudera didn't care what happened between them—okay, maybe a little. Sue him. He was only here to assess and choose.
Yeah, Gokudera can be hot-headed and rash sometimes but that didn't mean he was stupid. He knew there was no chance for him to enter Vongola. For one, he had turned his back on his own famiglia, which was allied with the other mafia. Second, he had no Vongola blood. Third, he didn't exactly play well with others. The only way he could was become a potential guardian, if either candidate didn't have one for Storm. Reborn had it all pretty much covered though, considering he called him over of all people.
"—till didn't find them yet," a curly-haired woman said.
Gokudera perked up in interest. He had heard what happened at the Hibari Clan's house from the other day. No one could still determine who it was. The most popular guess in the underworld was that it was the Hitsuji Clan, the family branch that collapsed and rebelled in Tokyo. It was a stretch, since the family was subtler and much smarter than most, but all possibilities had to be considered.
"I'm glad that Hibari-san is okay," the woman's companion said, shaking her head. She vaguely reminded Gokudera of one of the kendo members at school, with her narrow eyes and short, spiky black hair. Was it Mochiru? Mochizuki? Mochida?
"Yes, but it's a shame about the other patients though. I heard they were her men."
The Mochida woman sighed. "This has never happened before… Satoshi-kun hasn't come up with any leads yet. It's terrifying. What will happen to us if the Hibari Clan can't defend itself?"
"Don't worry too much, Bunko-san! I'm sure we'll be fine. They've been protecting us for a long time and your husband's police force shouldn't be underestimated, too."
"I hope so…"
"Did you hear about Hibari-san's nephew, too? My son said he didn't see him once at school today. He's been at the hospital all day from what I've heard."
"Oh, poor boy. It must be terrifying for him. First his parents, now his aunt. I hope everything will be okay."
"I'm sure Nana's boy is taking care of her well. Isn't it nice? He came back to Namimori to work at the hospital just for Endo-sensei!" The curly-haired woman laughed. "Talk about great timing."
"What a sweet young man. Kensuke could learn a thing or two from him."
"I heard he has to take the national exam for a license here, though. He's only a temporary resident."
Bunko rolled her eyes and waved her hand dismissively. "If he could help the doctors save Hibari-san, he's more than capable of being an official doctor. I'm sure he'll pass the exam with no problem."
"Satou-sensei—it has a nice ring to it, doesn't it? And he's so young, too. Nana must be very proud."
Gokudera paused. Satou—he heard that name before. Where did he hear that name…? Ah.
He dangled the omamori he bought at a local Shinto temple in front of his face. It was a small white pouch with a red flower sewn neatly in the center. He didn't dare open it though. If he did, it was utterly disrespectful and the charm would lose its power. This omamori was an amulet for good luck. Call him superstitious but he just knew it was meant to be.
Maybe coming to Namimori wasn't too bad after all, he thought, picking up his pace. Namimori University Hospital came to view ahead. Satou—Gokudera wasn't the type for vengeance, but he was only human after all. That man had been there when his mother died. Gokudera wouldn't pass up such a sweet opportunity.
The hospital staff was clearly frightened with him. Gokudera had spent a few minutes asking if "Satou-sensei" was in the building, but all he got were head shaking quickly and some quiet "no's". For some hotshot doctor, no one seemed to know where the young doctor was or care for that matter. A few of the younger doctors—residents, he guessed—sounded pretty bitter, too. Gokudera was just about to give up when he felt it. Pure Sky flames.
What the fuck? was his first thought. However, his body moved on its own. He maneuvered throughout the first floor of the hospital, noting the heavy influx of elderly patients, and snuck out through the back exit. Huh, no camera.
When he walked outside, he found himself in a small parking lot. It was relatively clean but strangely unused, except for a few cars parked near the exit. The flames felt even stronger as he walked towards a crouching figure. It was like they were just oozing in the air, not even bothering to hide themselves. Gokudera had never met a Sky flame-user. It was a rare flame, held by most of the mafia dons, except for the Evocatore Famiglia, whose boss possessed the Mist Flames.
But he knew enough about Sky Flames to recognize their unique harmonization quality—or rather his Storm Flames did. It just felt…so impossibly warm, almost like his mother's gentle touch, like home.
He smelled the faint smoke of cigarette drifting from the crouching young man. His tousled brown hair looked almost fluffy and oddly tamed at the same time.
"Look, I'm on break," the other snapped, flicking some cigarette ashes near his feet. "I don't know how you found me b—"
He turned around with a scowl, but froze when he saw Gokudera. Recognition and grief flickered in his brown eyes. Gokudera tried to relax. Did the doctor already know who he was? His dynamites were stored in secretly sewn pockets in all his clothes and his lighter was only a few centimeters away. His body told him to just chuck a dynamite at the doctor, but strangely, his heart was telling him that he'd regret it instantly.
"Uh, sorry," the doctor said awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head. "You're not Ogata-sensei."
"Last I checked," Gokudera couldn't help but snark back. He tensed, waiting for the other to respond, but Satou just laughed lightly. An odd sense of relief washed over the teen. He furrowed his brows, confused at all these conflicting feelings. Was it the Sky Flames? Was the brunet manipulating them to lull him into a false sense of security? Goddamn it, what the fuck was going on?
"Yeah, you're way better-looking anyway."
Gokudera slightly flushed at the compliment. The doctor was…charming. Was that how he got close to his mother? Honestly though…Gokudera had no idea behind his mother's circumstances. He had tried to find answers on a woman he could barely remember (more like he didn't want to remember) but no one told him anything when he had asked. Maybe…Satou had the answers?
"You smoke," Gokudera said blandly, eyeing the cigarette in the brunet's hand. He didn't take the other as a smoker but smoking was the only way for Gokudera to cope and relax—he'd understand if Satou did it for the same reason. Most smokers usually did.
Satou blinked before smiling thinly. "Yeah. I don't smoke often though." He gazed at the empty streets. "Just when I get stressed. Highly not recommended. You should quit too."
Gokudera raised a brow. "What makes you think—"
"Kid," Satou said, stretching out his legs, "you reek of smoke." He opened his mouth before closing it, sighing instead. "I'm too tired to lecture you on how smoking is bad for you and your lungs, blah blah blah. So, just don't do it. You can live so much longer if you do."
Now that Gokudera looked at him closely, Satou looked exhausted. His eyes were slightly red and bags were already appearing underneath them. Suddenly, Gokudera pitied him. He tried to push down the feeling but his Storm Flames flared within him, ready to protect this strange man, almost resonating with his Sky Flames.
"I don't see the point in living," Gokudera said, sitting down next to the brunet, though not too close. He had a hand near one of his dynamites, behind his pants pocket.
Satou blew a whiff of smoke from his lips. "Huh… How old are you? Thirteen?"
"I just turned fourteen last month."
"Congrats. Happy belated."
Gokudera eyed him warily. "Thanks, I guess." No one other than Bianchi had ever said that to him…
He took out his pack for another cigarette when Satou snatched it from his hands. He widened his eyes, sputtering in disbelief. "Hey, give that back, you bastard!"
"Marlboro Lights," Satou read, before shoving the pack in his coat's pocket. "No more smoking. Time to learn how to quit now, kid."
Gokudera glared. "You can't fucking tell me what to do. And I'm not a damn kid! Stop calling me that! Give it back. I need it!"
Satou rolled his eyes. "No, you don't. Geez, youngsters these days are terrifying. How is this going to help you? You're just going to deteriorate from the inside out." He patted his pocket. "It'll be safe with me, so no worries. If you can handle the withdrawal for two weeks, it'll get better."
"You smoke," Gokudera said. "And you look like you're, what, fifteen?"
Satou gaped. "I'm twenty-years-old, you little shit. How the fuck do I look fifteen? I'm not even that short."
Gokudera couldn't help but smirk. "I still would've mistaken you for a kid."
"Watch it, brat. I might be a doctor, but I won't hesitate to beat little children."
Satou even had the balls to pat him on the head and grin cheekily. Gokudera just roughly swatted his hand away, somehow not finding the heart to retort with a sarcastic comment. The other man obviously didn't mean that, but he looked more relaxed now, and holy shit, what was wrong with Gokudera's flames—they were practically purring for appeasing the other's anxiety. Gokudera felt like patting himself on the back. God, he'd never get into contact with Sky-flame users again if they were like Satou.
"I'm not a kid," Gokudera muttered, shoving his hands into his pockets.
"You're fourteen. That makes you a kid, or adolescent if that makes you feel any better."
Gokudera scowled. "I don't need anyone telling me what to do. I know the difference."
Satou smiled, sadness fleeting in his eyes. Gokudera wondered how the other wasn't eaten alive yet. "Yeah, I bet. You seem smart." The doctor took another whiff of his cigarette. "Look, you're young. I'm sure you make stupid mistakes sometimes. I don't know what happened to make you think it's not worth living, but things eventually get better."
Gokudera pursed his lips. "That's what everyone says."
Satou chuckled sheepishly. "Yeah, I'm not the best person for this kind of thing. I had my share of shit to get through, but it gets a bit easier if you have someone to talk to."
There was no one to talk to, not even Bianchi. Not one person would understand what Gokudera had gone through. He didn't ask for the life of a burgeoning hitman, to be born as a bastard child in the mafia, to lose his mother, the only person he ever loved. All life did was take and take until he had nothing left. The haunting memories of Lavina were the only good things he had, but he rarely touched upon them because they just hurt so damn much.
"There's no point," Gokudera muttered. "They just listen and tell you it's okay when it's not. They don't get it."
"Maybe you haven't found the right person to talk to yet," Satou said, crushing his cigarette with his foot. "Most people don't give a shit or they just don't really understand. It's not your job to make them though—that's on them. It's okay to be selfish sometimes."
That… Well, that was something different. Gokudera had been raised to always consider other people's feelings and thoughts first. Everyone had priority over him, even more so when he was an illegitimate child. Thinking about it now, he didn't consider himself in anything. Maybe it was just the person he was, maybe it was the numbness—he was too terrified to even think about it. No, he thought, mentally shaking his head. It was better that way. It was better to shove everything deep down. That was the kind of person Gokudera was. Push everything away and pretend they didn't exist.
A small beep caught his attention. He stiffened, his eyes darting around for the source, before relaxing when he realized it was Satou's pager.
"Well, fuck," the doctor said, standing up. "Duty calls. It was nice talking to you, kid. Hit me up sometime. This was cool."
"My name's not kid. It's…Gokudera," the teen finished lamely.
"Nice to meet you, Gokudera. You probably know who I am and if you don't, I'd be very disappointed."
Gokudera snorted. "You're a narcissistic fuck."
Satou grinned. "You know it. Careful next time though. Don't go off talking to strangers. I could've been an axe killer or something." He tapped his name tag. "I'm sure you know how to read, too."
He walked past Gokudera, ruffling his head. The teen squawked indignantly at the unexpected contact. "Oh, and I'm still keeping your pack. Seriously, quit it. I don't need another patient in the hospital. Arrivederci, you little shit." Satou waved over his shoulder before disappearing through the back entrance.
Gokudera stared at the door, his mind short-circuiting. Did…Satou know him? The doctor spoke to him in Italian. Did he know where Gokudera was from? Or was it all just a coincidence? He groaned, slumping further in his spot. Some hitman he was—he couldn't even extract some basic information. Instead they ended up in a frivolous conversation about feelings and shit. What the fuck am I good for again? he thought with a sigh.
He reached into his pocket for an extra pack he carried when he felt a slip of paper beside it. He took it out and just snorted at the number scribbled onto it.
That fuck, he couldn't help but think amusedly.
No matter how much Gokudera hated himself at that moment for probably the worst (impromptu) undercover mission ever—it wasn't even that fucking complicated, goddamn it—he couldn't help but feel that everything he had assumed was wrong.
God, coming to Namimori was a big mistake.
A/N It's all coming together now, hehe. Thank you for reading this far! I love you, peeps. ()
It was a bit hard to write Gokudera's POV. Hopefully I did okay. I wanted to flesh out the canon characters more and give them more dimensions and backstories. Hope it's going alright! To address an issue, I realize that there are a lot of OC's and I apologize if that rubs off people in the wrong way. However, because I changed Tsuna's age, that makes it quite difficult. I'm trying to use as much canon characters as I can, including the KHR video game characters (which I've never played but they're on the wiki so might as well). The Evocatore Famiglia is one of them!
Also, a bit of shameless advertising here, but I finally published a new KHRxHaikyu crossover story! Give it a read if you'd like!
Drop a thought or two and I'll try to answer any questions as soon as I can!
Thank you so much for reading! I hope to see you in the next chapter.
Have a lovely day~
Little Miss Bunny
