Title: Long Way Home (3/3)
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It was a little hard to accept, a little amusing to recollect now, the kind of significances that had driven all that passion and turmoil.
He used to daydream of this kind of peace and routine stability then. A few hours to himself, so he could wake up like he had all the time in the world. To be able to get used to that feeling. He'd looked forward to that; assumed it would be bliss.
And it was, he guessed. It had been restful, and he had been content. He was deeply glad nonetheless, for his young, pre-cancer mother walking in front; no shadow beneath her silhouette.
He was done with having all the time in the world.
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They didn't always have time for each other. Sometimes, they were so busy they just fell asleep beside the other as soon as they got home, without a word. But somewhere in the night they'd reach for each other, somehow, and from there a leg will curl over and a body will bend, so that by morning they'd wake up intertwined; one big and cosy jumble.
And they still argued. Snits. Tiny cold wars strewn, over trivial things like tie colours and handwritten reports. Incredibly angry fights; destruction of expensive furniture even when they brought their disagreements from work home. And Xanxus would go out for an angry drive, leaving Tsuna to fix and eat dinner alone, but not before the latter called someone first to put up a roadblock –near a bar or hotel, where his partner could spend the night safer. And Xanxus, drunk and reeking of booze, might find it occasionally in his imbibed mind to break into a greenhouse or uproot someone's garden, so that when Tsuna woke up there'd be his favourite blossoms scattered all over the floor, along with dirt and a snoring Xanxus. And he would sigh as he got up, four hours before his partner would–to fresh coffee, aspirin and a vase full of now properly-arranged crocuses.
Strangely enough, there was no need to ask for forgiveness.
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And there were days when Xanxus came home perfectly spotless, but the reports preceding him overflowed with blood.
He would walk up those steps, aura and expression embodying exactly what everyone feared; because, they whispered, between their cups of espressos and behind closed doors, wasn't that what he was? A monster?
Sure, he was good-looking; intelligent; he had a charm of his own –if you'd the taste for that sort. But this was the Varia, who killed and tortured men like so many cockroaches. Who'd tried to upturn the Vongola and exterminate the current Generation.
He was Xanxus.
Which neither the two subjects of the speculation cared for. The assassin knew what he was to Tsunayoshi; he didn't need to listen to these gossiping hypocrites.
And yes, he enjoyed killing lesser shits. He tasted thrill at their screams, loved the rush of bashing their skulls in. He never spared any attention to their final, pathetic pleas (lies) of family as he punished those who'd dared cross his (these men who kept fathering unwanted children, unwanted)*. In their world, vendetta was law, and it wasn't as if any of them were saints to begin with. Not even his pristine, morally-integral lover was exempt.
So he was a monster. Big, fuckin' deal.
Which didn't justify how his muscles tightened up, and all killing intent escaped him when Tsunayoshi's scrutiny greeted him at the doorstep, even though he gave nary a flinch.
He also didn't get why his mouth would flood with meaningless words, but they were never said and so didn't exist, even if he had to choke to death on them.
(I'm sorry you have to live with this.)
He didn't need them, because they were also in Tsunayoshi's eyes as well, and the taut shape of his jaw.
(I'm sorry I couldn't be strong enough, good enough to stop needing you for this.)
Suddenly he almost wanted to laugh, despite the situation's seriousness.
Because weren't they just a bunch of idiots?
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They retired concurrently; Xanxus as he finally acquired reading glasses and Tsuna a few months after. They'd already elected to settle into their Pienza vacation home, leaving everything to charity and their only child, save the farewell gifts and a few priceless mementos. Xanxus was stretching out his kinks, and Tsuna arranging Bertrando's old Father's Day cards on the fridge –the men had just moved in their new (cheaper) furniture –when he heard, "You know, you really gotta wonder how in the fuck we managed to get here."
The younger (not young, but younger) man snorted and continued to decorate; a soft, brightened cast to his lips.
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"I don't, actually, hah; hav't' jump, d-do I?"Tsuna panted, eyeing the side of the hill with no small apprehension.
Nana laughed. "No, Tsu-kun! Just…come over here. Sit." They sat at the foot of a tree some ways from the edge; the scent of early poppies tentative in the sleepy breeze. "It should be any minute now. But don't be afraid, ok? Kaasan's here," she whispered, smoothing his hair which, thinning and grey-shot white as it was, still sprung up everywhere. Tsuna tried to nod, but was stopped by a twinge in his chest. Of course, the long walk and climb. How fitting he should re-join his significant other by dying the same way.
And maybe, because this was as close as he'd ever felt to Xanxus in fifteen years, he finally asked, "How…is he?" and dared turn hopeful eyes to his mother.
Who hesitated. Never had his mother's gentleness filled him with such apprehension, as it did now. Because Xanxus might not be the best person; he's no hero or martyr, but it isn't fair, it's isn't; hasn't he been trying hard enough for nearly fifty years?
"No, Kami, please, no, that's not right–" He gripped her forearm, suddenly stronger than a frail old man.
"Shh, shh; it's alright, Tsu-kun." She soothes him hurriedly, thumbs brushing over leathery cheeks. "He's there, waiting. He just wanted me to tell you he's sorry it took so long to come and get you."
As it turned out, it had been two thousand years there; two thousand years Xanxus spent settling his part of the agreement. Fifteen years in which Tsuna bided, stranded on the human plane, when he could've departed a decade before. All for the impetuous desires of an enfant terrible, who'd practically demanded the Powers That Be arrange for him to be there when Tsuna arrived, so he could locate him in the billions of souls, in exchange for two thousand years of labour.
(And Tsuna laughed, somewhat choked; that selfish, selfish bastard.)
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For all Tsuna's medical training and all the death they'd witnessed, neither of them were ready (and maybe they were never meant to be).
This was the third time his heart did its stop-start, the third time it lost its rhythm. And it did that while Xanxus was shaving, so Tsuna came hobbling to the sound of his electric shaver cracking against the sink.
They'd rehearsed this scenario so many times that Tsuna went into auto-pilot. His fingers were rock-steady as he dialled; he was mechanical as he listed the medicines. As he held Xanxus's hand in the ambulance, he was the very picture of collectedness.
In fact, he couldn't understand why the doctor's face was so grim, as well as the nurse's. They'd been through this already, hadn't they? Twice. He was to sleep over for the next few days, and when Xanxus checked out they'd visit the pier again.
And the crocuses would be in full bloom next month.
And he still wanted to eat Xanxus's awful cooking; to feel his uncomfortably stale breath down the side of his throat. He still wanted to watch mote-filled sunbeams squeeze into his wrinkles and turn into shadow. He still wanted to argue about tired, old topics, to discuss groceries and bills; he found himself suddenly craving everything you needed someone else with the same nostalgia in their eyes to do.
(And to go to that place they hadn't arrived at yet, where they would have discovered everything about life and each other and grown bored, but there's a lovely warmth and rightness in their home to want.)
It was not despair that pushed him to weep himself raw, or hold that hand and press his raining face on that forehead; still-warm. It was yearning.
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It would always hurt this way. Nothing could remedy the fact he was gone.
But Tsuna limped, oh so terribly, and wore extra layers during winter for his aching bones. And he has a huge collection of photo albums in his attic, so thick and dusty he doesn't quite move or look at them anymore. Whenever he does, it would strike him: he's old. So were his surviving friends; so were some of the others when they went.
So was Xanxus.
And he still had the mental faculties to remember, the sunset on his young, handsome face; the sunrise on his old, handsome one. The increasing candles on both their birthdays; the mild, dear softness that appeared on Xanxus's gut, somewhere in the middle of all Tsuna's hugs. The gazillion of days they'd had and the events in them; with their friends and them two; with their families and them two; and just the two of them.
Then all he could say or feel over and over again is thank you.
Thank you for giving me all of this, for all of them.
For letting me keep him, for the both of us.
Thank you.
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This was what ran through his mind too, as he was swept into oblivion. Thank you.
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He'd heard that some people didn't live that long after their spouses die, but it had been fifteen winters.
He was also a little dazed at how much photos could lie after too much sunlight and years. How loud his father and Squalo had been, how vibrantly pretty Haru and I-Pin once were. How free Yamamoto's laughter.
Most of all, it was just the sight of Xanxus, straight out of their Spanish wedding, that had him so squeezed his arteries could burst.
But they didn't, and neither did his steps creak, and he was clothed in white again with a sense of wholeness as he approached his waiting family and lover.
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(Owari)
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Notes:
Pienza: a town in Tuscany and a UNESCO World Heritage Site.
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Bertrando: X27's son in this story. His name means "wise raven".
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Poppies: associated with eternal sleep, dreams, consolation, remembrance and resurrection.
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*Basically, "those who dared cross his" means those who'd dare harm his Famiglia. To Xanxus, his Famiglia IS his family, in both senses of the word (especially since Tsuna became his husband). I also see him as someone with a lot of issues. Which is why he considers all his victims' pleas of family as lies...because to him, they're also unfaithful, irresponsible men who keep fathering unwanted, bastard children and abandoning them. EVERY single one of those men.
[This is my headcanon for him in this AU -that he IS actually tied to the Vongola Secondo, through some distantly-related mafioso who kept his mother as a mistress for some time before dumping her. So he's always been born into the mafia, but...boy, does he have a lot of baggage from the word 'father'.]
(might explain why he over-reacted at discovering he was unrelated to Timoteo too; this man whom he'd realised wasn't his father, but whom he'd hoped was an uncle, grandfather; anything, anything...but was NOTHING.)
(lies lies lies lies)
(including his dreams; all his dreams hung up on this sonuvabitch, lying old man's promises, his sweat and blood and -all LIES.)
...Yup yup. That basically sums up his psyche -at least, from one point of view. Many ways of portraying this guy.
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Author's Updates:
1. Features 2 & 3- two pieces of X27 fanart. All done now; but haven't the time to ink/ edit yet. Here are the photos if you'd like a preview (shot using my camera phone, sorry about the quality):
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[just delete the spaces in the link]
i. 4 scenes with TYL! Xanxus and 14 YO Tsuna: : s t a. s h / 01pqth5yk8ic /
ii. 6 scenes and 1 chibi with present day X27: s t a. s h / 08u4jjrc7du /
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2. Feature 4- character/ pairing study of X27. The '20 Questions' thing didn't take, so I thought I might as well post my interpretation of X27 and their dynamics. (But don't worry, puruku, I'll still answer your question when I post this.)
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3. Feature 5- X27 doujin scanlation. Translation halfway done, looking for someone to help me substitute the speech in the bubbles. I can't Photoshop to save my own life.
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4. Chapter 8, 'Emancipate' has been rewritten.
Well, that's it for now. Sorry if the writing was awkward at some points, my beta's currently ill and I've been staring at this fic for way too long to form an objective view of it anymore. So it'll definitely be helpful if you could review. :)
Hope you enjoyed. Till next time!