Disclaimer: I don't own KHR! :(
So I spent the last 3 months revising and moving Let it Rain Without Clouds over to AO3 (the version here is still the same, AO3 version has a few extra scenes, some scene revision based on my current approach to humor, and a decade's experience of slightly better grammar), and the result was that I wanted to write more KHR!
I've always shipped 8018 since I started writing KHR fanfiction thanks to the legendary Yoneda Kou, but I was recently looking back at some doujinshi and found Tamamori Lilico. So, 1880 it is for this round, inspired by Lilico! I hope you'll enjoy it~
This is set right after the end of the Future Arc and takes place in the TYL timeline.
"Cheers to the extreme to a peaceful future!" Ryohei toasted the group, raising his champagne glass up in the air as the others applauded. "We did it!"
The celebration proved larger than they had anticipated, having invited members of the Cavallone Famiglia as well as their numerous friends currently in Japan. It wasn't long before the alcohol started flowing, and Yamamoto found himself staring at his fourth glass of wine right in the middle of dessert.
"Too bad your dad couldn't come," Gokudera commented as they dug into their crème brulée. "Is the restaurant that busy?"
"Ah, it turned out he already made reservations for the hot springs with a few of his friends," Yamamoto admitted. "But hey, he's alive and well, so I'm not complaining."
"True. Make sure to visit him when he comes back."
"That's the plan!" To be honest, the thought that his father had been killed before still sent shivers down his spine. He knew everything had worked out in the end, but that didn't mean any of the emotions he had experienced beforehand didn't happen.
Yamamoto sighed and instead turned his attention to the skylark across the room. Hibari was currently picking at his dessert quietly at his mostly empty table, courtesy of some careful planning by Tsuna to avoid as much crowding as possible around the other. Yamamoto feigned wiping his mouth with his napkin to hide his grin when he spotted some cream at the corner of the feared Cloud Guardian's mouth.
He had spent so much of the past few months searching for the other that it felt unreal now that everything was suddenly over and Hibari had appeared before him once again.
One of the waiters refilled his wine glass once again, and Yamamoto swirled it absentmindedly in his hand as he watched the festivities around him.
If Yamamoto had to name the moment he felt the first spark, it had to be the time Hibari saved him during the Sky Ring Battle over ten years ago. He remembered looking up to see the head of the Disciplinary Committee's silhouette against the smoke, the other standing tall like a beacon of stability in the craziness that his life had become. Up until then, he would have named baseball as his first love, but that day he felt his resolution waver ever so slightly as the walls crumbled around him.
Nevertheless, he kept the emotion buried under his usual club activities and trials as a Guardian of the future Vongola Decimo. He stomped it out whenever he casually invited Hibari over for sushi, ignored it vehemently whenever he popped into the Disciplinary Committee room to deliver some extra bento his dad made by accident. Before he knew it, he was watching both Ryohei and Hibari graduate, unsure of why he felt the slightest discomfort in his chest as they moved to Namimori High School down the street.
The rest of his education went on as normally as it could for a future hitman of one of the strongest Famiglias in the world. Yamamoto continued playing baseball alongside his training as a disciple of the Shigure Soen Style, graduating from a university well-known for their baseball. He played games in between his duties to the Vongola Famiglia, all the while hiding his status as a natural born hitman from his fans.
Of course, he had abandoned his first love of baseball when Tsuna finally ascended as the head of the family as Vongola Decimo, when the missions became endless and the dangers constant.
Meanwhile, Hibari had disappeared shortly after graduation and came back once in a while to "check up" on Namimori. His presence became more noticeable after Yamamoto quit baseball and worked for Vongola full time, and he noticed the discomfort return, recognizing that the only thing keeping them together was the fact that they were both Guardians to Vongola Decimo.
The realization had hurt, he admitted, and even then he refused to delve into why.
Yamamoto placed his sixth glass of wine down on the table, only for Ryohei to shove a full shot glass in his hand.
He downed the gin, feeling the burn travel down his throat, as he tried to recall just when was the last time he had seen Hibari prior to their latest tribulation with Byakuran.
He remembered having dragged the feared Cloud Guardian out to eat after one of the meetings that Hibari had actually shown up to.
"There's this new yakitori place down the street! You like meat, right?" He ignored Gokudera's flabbergasted expression at the fact that he would even attempt to invite the man out. "If we go now, there shouldn't be much of a crowd."
The meal started in near silence as they stared at the beef sizzle between them. "So, how are things with the Foundation?" Yamamoto attempted to make some small talk, wondering just when he had started running out of things to say to the other.
"Classified," Hibari replied before picking up one of the briskets.
Yamamoto frowned, mentally kicking himself for asking such a lame question. He preoccupied himself with placing more meat on the grill as the butterflies in his stomach started doing flips. Yamamoto swallowed thickly and wondered just what he should do to slow his heartbeat down. He didn't remember ever feeling this nervous even amidst the most difficult of battles.
A light touch on his chin nearly made him jump as he realized that Hibari was studying his scar.
"Who gave you this?"
"Ah, it was last month," Yamamoto replied, trying to laugh it off. "I couldn't reach Ryohei in time, and it got infected. Oh, but the target's already disposed of so..." he trailed off when Hibari leaned back in the seat. "Are you going to call me a herbivore for being so careless?" he joked.
"No."
He blinked at the other, but Hibari had already turned his attention back to his food.
"Are you okay, Yamamoto?" Tsuna asked when Yamamoto headed for the balcony.
"I'm just going to grab a breath of fresh air," he reassured the other, waving as nonchalantly as he could while he set down the shot glass. He could still hear the revelry from the dining hall as he closed the door behind him and sighed in relief.
Yamamoto half stumbled to the railing and leaned against the stone, massaging his forehead as he willed the headache to dissipate. The discomfort in his chest was particularly stronger today, and he blamed the alcohol as well as his many near-death experiences the past few months.
"Drink to the extreme!" Ryohei's voice echoing from the mansion did nothing to help with one of his two pains.
A soft sound behind him made him wearily turn around to see none other than the Cloud Guardian joining him on the balcony.
"They're still at it, huh?" he joked, trying to ignore how his heart fluttered at the sight of the other. Any more stimulation and he'd be hurling into the bushes below, he reasoned to himself.
"Why are you out here?" Hibari queried.
"I'll go back In a minute," Yamamoto fanned himself, feeling the heat only continue to rush up his face. "I think I might have drank too much."
Hibari snorted, a sound that seemed foreign on the other's lips. "So, you're actually a lightweight."
"I-In your dreams! I'm totally fine!" Yamamoto stuttered as he straightened up, only for the sudden movement to send stars through his vision. A pair of strong arms wrapped around him, anchoring him to the balcony. He peered up to the other, squinting at Hibari's silhouette.
The moonlight illuminated the skylark's silky black hair, cut shorter than how the other had it back in highschool. Those dark eyes were just as he remembered them from the days back at Namimori, although they had softened slightly over the years.
"The moon is beautiful, isn't it?" the words left his mouth in a breathless whisper, and he wondered if the man would hurl him over the balcony right then and there for such a statement. Instead, Hibari's face drew closer to his until slightly chapped lips pressed against his own. Yamamoto's brain stopped at the gesture, and he was about to close his eyes when the other pulled away just as quickly, expression indiscernible.
"Hibari…" he tried to stop Hibari as the man let go of him, but his head was spinning from the alcohol, the floor rushing up to meet him. He swore he saw concern on the skylark's face before darkness finally took him for the night.
Yamamoto woke to the rays of the sun through his blinds shining directly on his face. He groaned at the splitting hangover, massaging his temple as he sat up. Someone had removed his jacket and shoes and left a glass of water on the table which he reached for immediately. He drank greedily, wondering if everything at the balcony had just been a dream.
"The moon is beautiful, isn't it?"
"Argh!" Yamamoto groaned, wishing to sink into the depths of the earth. He had no idea what possessed him to even have said such a phrase to Hibari.
Yet, he could still remember those dark lashes against his, the slight hitch in Hibari's breath as the man pulled away.
After a much needed shower and a change of clothes, Yamamoto headed downstairs to the study and to his surprise, found Tsuna already inside going over some documents on the large oak desk. He suddenly remembered an image of the wood burning as they evacuated this particular mansion in Japan during the first wave of attacks from the Millefiore.
The sound of his boss' voice, alive and well, tore through the image. "Ah, if you're looking for Hibari, he left early this morning for Italy. He said he has some Foundation-related things to take care of," Tsuna told him, sighing. "I guess we were lucky he even stayed for the party."
"That's Hibari for you," Yamamoto chuckled, trying not to think of the kiss the night before. He managed to violently shove the thought away and instead turned his attention back to his boss. "That doesn't explain why you're up so early."
Tsuna laughed. "Well actually, I've been thinking a lot since we came back."
Yamamoto wondered what the other would say if he told Tsuna that all he had been trying to do is to not think.
Tsuna tapped his fingers together. "Everyone's given up so much for the Famiglia."
"And you know I'd do it all again, Tsuna," Yamamoto told him.
Vongola Decimo smiled. "I know." He flipped through the papers again thoughtfully. "How would you feel about going back to baseball, even just as a pastime?"
Yamamoto laughed. "You don't have to worry about me."
"Just consider it. I think you'd benefit from a hobby. You can also try playing in the leagues too, you know, just to say you did it." Tsuna leaned back in his chair. "To be honest, our workload should be much lighter for a while since Byakuran is gone now. I can arrange for most of your missions to be in Japan for a few years."
Yamamoto tried not to think about just how enticing that offer was as he answered.
"I'll think about it. Thanks, Tsuna."
.
"You sure you don't want to stay in your old room while you're back?" Tsuyoshi asked, handing him some packed leftovers for dinner back at his apartment.
Yamamoto shook his head, grinning. "I need to be a responsible adult!"
His father shrugged. "Well, come visit more often whenever you need a free meal. You're always welcome back here. I'm not going anywhere."
"Thanks, Dad!" Yamamoto waved as he closed his car door, glancing at the building once again to make sure his eyes weren't lying to him. The sight of Take Sushi intact with his father behind the counter cutting fish like usual had nearly brought tears to his eyes the first time he came back. He still held his breath every time he turned the corner into their street and wondered when the nightmare would ever fade to a distant memory.
Yamamoto pushed the thought to the back of his mind as he drove back to the apartment he rented in the shopping district.
He turned on the living room lights to his 1DLK before slumping down onto the sofa and pulled out his phone to read the message Tsuna had sent him. Yamamoto frowned after skimming through the uneventful update on Vongola from Italy and finding no new missions. He supposed Tsuna wasn't joking when the other said that there wasn't as much to do now that Byakuran was gone.
He had gone on a few reconnaissance missions since his stationing in Namimori, but otherwise everything was calm and peaceful. It gave him much too much time to think about a certain Cloud Guardian that was apparently still on some business trip. Yamamoto groaned and tossed the phone to the side, slumping down on the sofa as he tried to direct his thoughts to another direction.
Yet, he remembered chapped lips on his, the man's silhouette against the night sky. Yamamoto wondered if it had really all been a dream. He supposed that he would just have to keep on waiting for the other to return like usual before he could ask.
"How would you feel about going back to baseball?"
Yamamoto went to Namimori Ball the next day, unable to shake off the constant ache in his chest as his grip tightened on the bat. He frowned as his first swing sent the ball into the net. If he really returned to baseball, then perhaps he could ignore some of these complicated feelings churning through him.
He skipped into the Disciplinary Committee office with an extra bento his dad had accidentally made for him the night before and slowly opened the door to find Hibari sleeping at the desk. A light breeze blew the window curtains around the skylark, illuminating him in the soft afternoon light.
The ball flew into the target, hitting the metal so hard the echo resounded throughout the batting cages. He stared at the feat, almost forgetting to hit the next ball that came his way as he swung at it, trying to clear his mind so that he could concentrate on batting. To his surprise, this one also hit the target dead center despite his distractions.
"Huh, I can still bat," Yamamoto commented to himself.
"Why wouldn't you?" a voice said behind him.
Yamamoto froze for a second, the butterflies fluttering through his stomach as he tried to convince himself that his daydreaming had somehow materialized the man in question here before him, in Namimori Bat of all places. He turned slowly despite himself to see none other than Hibari Kyoya standing behind the fence.
"Hey Hibari!" He found the familiar smile making its way up to his mouth. "Did you just get back?"
The man crossed his arms. "I just happened to be passing by."
"In that case, let's go eat!" Yamamoto blurted the first thing he could think of to keep the other here longer, mentally kicking himself for his bluntness.
To his surprise, Hibari did not refuse. "Okay. I have some time."
"What do you want to eat?" Yamamoto asked a few minutes later as he returned to the entrance with his duffel bag.
Hibari seemed to seriously consider their options for a moment. "Hamburger steak."
Yamamoto then found himself sitting across from the reason for all his recent troubles at one of the local diners, waiting for two orders of hamburger steak.
"I remember this place was pretty good," he tried to make some small talk as he took a sip of the shop's special milk-flavored milkshake. Yamamoto could sense Hibari eyeing his drink intently and had to suppress a laugh at the man's expression. "Did you want to try some?"
"No," the other replied curtly before returning the cup of hot tea. "I just question the concept of making a milkshake that tastes like milk."
"Well, I like milk, so…" Yamamoto laughed. He returned to his drink, trying to muster up the courage to ask the other about the other night, but the food arrived before he knew it. He settled for enjoying the small glint in Hibari's eyes before the latter started devouring his meal.
"How long are you going to stay this time?" he dared to ask after a while, still wondering how he should bring up the kiss and his drunken confession.
"Haven't decided yet."
"Hm, in that case we should do this more often! Let me know whenever you're free!"
Yamamoto never found the chance to ask about what happened back at the Vongola mansion, but he supposed he was fine with how things were at the moment. Hibari really took him up on his offer the next few months, randomly waltzing into his path at least two times a week to grab dinner with him.
Meanwhile, Yamamoto decided to join the local baseball club at Tsuna's insistence to alleviate some of his boredom from the lack of missions. He was pleased to find his skills had not diminished in the slightest, the late practices a pleasant nostalgia to his otherwise mundane days when Hibari wasn't in town.
He knew it would happen sooner or later, but he was still unprepared when a letter arrived in his mailbox from his old coach. Yamamoto turned the offer around in his head repeatedly at the grocery store, and the next thing he knew, he was walking home with a bag full of beer and some ingredients for hamburger steak.
"Yamamoto Takeshi." He looked up to see Hibari staring at the bags in his hand at the corner of the street and applauded his good luck.
"Let's drink at my place today!" he declared, waving the grocery bag around. "I'll make hamburger steak!"
Hibari stared at the outline of cans in the plastic. "Sure."
The two of them were in the kitchen back at his apartment preparing dinner. Yamamoto noted that the other was a lot more detail oriented than he seemed when cooking, contrary to the one time he had invited Ryohei over. The cleanup that time had taken over a week.
"When did you learn how to make hamburger steak?" Hibari asked afterwards as they sat on the floor at his tea table, the sweet aroma of meat drifting through the small apartment.
"Ah, you were eating it so happily that first time, and I had nothing to do the past few months except train at the dojo and practice baseball, so…" Yamamoto trailed off when he realized what he had admitted to the other. He thought of the letter stowed safely away in his baseball bag in the corner and felt a small wave of anxiety. Instead of bringing up his coach's offer to his guest, Yamamoto opened a can of beer in response to take his mind off of the issue at hand, trying not to cave under Hibari's piercing gaze.
The liquid courage seemed to do its job, as a few cans later after putting away their empty plates, Yamamoto allowed himself a disgruntled sigh. He eyed the teapot on the table, regretting just slightly that he was the only one drinking. "Sorry, are you sure you're okay with just tea? I have milk in the fridge too."
"It's fine," Hibari told him.
"Hm, you really don't like drinking, do you?"
"Aren't you the lightweight?"
"Anyone is a lightweight next to Ryohei," Yamamoto grumbled, taking another sip. He sighed again, sensing the skylark tracking every one of his reactions. His hand tightened around the can. "Tsuna told me to consider going back to baseball," he finally admitted, wondering if this would be the line that finally separated them apart. "You're probably going to be mad at me, huh?" he added.
"Why do you care about what I think?"
Yamamoto looked up at the other, wondering just why exactly.
"What do you want to do?" Hibari queried, and Yamamoto found himself staring into those dark eyes again.
He swallowed, not knowing the right answer. "My place is with Vongola. I made that choice already." The sight of the burning restaurant came into his periphery once again, and he clenched his fist at the memory.
On the other hand, he didn't expect Hibari to be the one looking away. "You seemed very happy at the batting cage."
Yamamoto gaped at the other, wondering just why the man would make such a comment. He decided to wait patiently for Hibari to continue, unsure of how to interpret the statement.
The man sighed when Yamamoto didn't respond, seemingly irritated at the need to elaborate. "As long as you keep up your swordsmanship, then there should be no issues, right? If you falter in your training, I'll just bite you to death."
Yamamoto stared at him blankly, knowing that it was true. "Yeah, you're right." He finally smiled. He found it strange for Hibari of all people to be comforting him, but he welcomed it like a breath of fresh air.
Yamamoto put his half empty beer can down and stood up to stretch, satisfied that his chest felt much lighter now that he had somewhat of an idea of how he would approach his decision. Yamamoto supposed he'd take his coach's offer for the time being and leave when Tsuna needed him back. He had always tended to take either one extreme or the other, but he supposed he could always try this compromise once again.
"Thanks, Hibari." He laughed a little at his own insecurities. "To be honest, I was also worried that if I spent more time away, then I'd get to see you less," he added in a small voice. He found himself staring at the other, who had also stood up along with him to clean up the rest of the table. The man's silhouette against the backdrop of his apartment made him think about just how long he had suffered the ache that seemed to spread through his chest once again.
Yamamoto let out the breath he didn't know he had been holding in, finally letting himself put a name to the pain he was feeling.
"Hey, back at the mansion… it wasn't a dream, right?"
Hibari hesitated, seeming to consider his next words as he set down the tea cup he had been holding. "Did you want it to be?"
"Not particularly," Yamamoto replied breathlessly in anticipation of Hibari's next words.
The words never came as Hibari took the open beer can he had left on the table and gulped the rest of its contents.
"Hibari, what…" Yamamoto began before the skylark set the can down a little too forcefully and closed the distance between them, cutting him off. The kiss was longer this time, deeper. Yamamoto fell back onto the sofa, the taste of beer lingering on the man's lips.
"Hibari?" he repeated the skylark's name, and Hibari seemed to suddenly catch himself and pull away, but he wrapped his arms around the man's waist and drew him back down against him.
"Yamamoto Takeshi." Yamamoto shuddered at the sound of his name. The gray eyes that stared into his eyes were half-lidded with desire, the breath against his hitched and wanting. He leaned up for another kiss, intertwining their bodies together against the contour of his couch as he felt a hand loosen his belt.
Yamamoto woke the next morning to an empty apartment, the sun shining through his blinds a stark reminder of the new day. He sighed and rolled out of bed only to crumple to the floor, his hips boneless from the night before.
Each thrust sent stars through his vision as he held onto Kyouya like his life depended on it. The man's breathless moans against his ears drowned out any residual pain he felt, and he reached up for another kiss, cupping Kyouya's face in his hands.
"Wah!" He covered his own face in embarrassment, the realization finally settling in. "With Hibari, I actually…" He spotted a small white piece of paper on his bedside table between his fingers and collected himself enough to pick it up.
Written in the middle in Hibari's usual scrawl was a phone number. He blinked at the message for a few seconds before tucking it in his desk drawer for safekeeping.
Hibari didn't show up before him again that week. Yamamoto played with the idea of contacting the other several times as another week passed and another, but he hesitated every time, hoping that the skylark would appear suddenly like usual instead.
He decided to ask Tsuna casually one day during a debrief over the phone, concluding that it was the safest approach.
"Eh? Hibari-san left two weeks ago. He said this might be a long one."
.
Yamamoto accepted his coach's offer and went back to baseball, the rush providing a momentary distraction from the ache in his chest that had only continued to grow the more time passed. He wondered if Hibari had thought that everything was a mistake, if the other had really lost interest in him once he went back to baseball.
He still kept up his routine visits to the dojo, studying the different styles that Squalo sent him every now and then, the feeling of his katana in his hand a comforting anchor to the one that was now gone for more than a few months. His practices seemed to impact his baseball more than ever despite his lack of diligence in favor of the sword, and soon he found their team at the number one spot towards the end of the season.
It was already half a year before Yamamoto knew it, but the ache only continued to pulsate and invade his every waking moment. He was surrounded by his many fans, but he felt alone.
Gokudera and Tsuna invited him out to lunch one day after the end of the season, and he rejoiced in their familiar faces.
"How are things back in Italy?"
"Not bad," Gokudera admitted. "The talks have been going well with the other Famiglias."
Yamamoto chuckled. "That's good."
"You've been pretty busy yourself," Tsuna added. "Congratulations on winning the season!"
"Thanks," Yamamoto forced a smile. He didn't want to make light of the lesser workload Tsuna had given him, and he also didn't want the other two to worry over his unnecessary obsession with their very own Cloud Guardian.
"Hey, are you okay?" Tsuna asked despite his best efforts to hide his discomfort.
Yamamoto always knew that his friend's hyperintuition was too good sometimes. "Well, actually…" he trailed off, not knowing even where to begin. He groaned. "To be honest, there's been a lot on my mind lately."
"Well, you have been juggling a lot with both baseball and Vongola."
"That, and…" He played around with the words in his head before continuing. "Well, there's been this person I haven't seen for over half a year. I keep thinking that time would help a little, but it just gets worse."
"Dude, that just sounds like you're lovesick," Gokudera offered.
Yamamoto could feel his ears heat up, knowing this to be true.
Gokudera laughed. "Man, and you had us worried that you were going to eventually just marry baseball. Who's the lucky girl?"
"Not a girl," he mumbled.
"Eh?"
"I-I mean, I haven't heard from him for seven months already. He left his number, but I don't want to bother him during his mission."
"Mission?" Gokudera questioned his choice of words, but Tsuna clapped his hands together in realization. "What do you know, Tenth?"
"Ah, I promised him I wouldn't tell anyone," Tsuna waved his hand apologetically.
Gokudera scratched his head, wondering just who Tsuna and Yamamoto were talking about when he also suddenly realized who was the man in question. There was only one Guardian currently missing in action for precisely seven months. That, and Hibari had never given anyone his number; they had always had to go through Kusakabe and hope that the other knew where his boss was.
"He seriously gave you his number?" Gokudera asked.
Yamamoto nodded.
"Does he have yours?"
He thought for a moment before shaking his head, knowing what was to come next.
Gokudera clasped his hand to his head. "Why the hell have you not contacted him then?"
"Ah, I don't want to bother him on his mission. You never know…"
"How is he supposed to contact you if he doesn't have your number?" Gokudera continued, the exasperation only growing in his voice.
"Why don't you try texting him tonight?" Tsuna suggested, kicking his Storm Guardian under the table. "Who knows, he might be the one waiting for you to contact him first."
Yamamoto lay on his bed that night, staring at the phone in his hands as he tried to put all of the questions that have been running through his head the past few months into words.
Are you eating well? Are you doing okay?
Why did you leave without telling me?
Do you regret that night?
He typed and retyped his first message a few times before his finger finally slipped over the send button.
Yamamoto: [Hi Hibari! It's Yamamoto! How have you been?]
"Wah!" he exclaimed, trying to find a way to retract the message, but he could see a little typing bubble under his message almost instantly.
Hibari: [It's 2am in the morning.]
Yamamoto: [Oh! Sorry sorry!]
Yamamoto: [I didn't mean to wake you!]
Hibari: [It's fine.]
Yamamoto stared at the message, his heart racing helplessly as he struggled to find the next words to say now that he had initiated contact with the other. He wanted to see Hibari so badly, but he knew it wasn't something you asked of the skylark.
Hibari wandered wherever he pleased, dropping in and out of their lives at his own pace. Yamamoto felt he had no right to ask the other for anything more.
Hibari: [Are you still there?]
Yamamoto: [Yes!]
Yamamoto: [Sorry again!]
Hibari: [I told you it's fine. Is everything okay?]
Yamamoto: [Yup! We just finished the season so practice has been slow]
Hibari: [Congratulations on winning.]
Yamamoto: [Oh, you were following us?]
Hibari: [No comment.]
Yamamoto: [:D]
Yamamoto: [Uh…]
Hibari: [What's wrong?]
Yamamoto: [Ah, it's just]
Yamamoto stared at the screen for a few seconds, all of the questions from before turning into a jumbled mess in his brain.
Yamamoto: [Haha I don't know how to do this over text]
Yamamoto almost dropped his phone when it vibrated in his hand, and he slid the talk button on nervously before putting it up to his ear.
"H-Hello?"
"What's wrong?" Hibari's voice came in from the other side.
"I, uh…" He swallowed. He wanted to tell the other about how he was back in baseball, how he still kept up his swordsmanship and even invented a new style combining both of his loves into one. He wanted to ask if Hibari was ever going to come back.
"I miss you."
There was silence on the other end, and for a moment, Yamamoto thought Hibari had hung up.
"I'll be back soon."
Yamamoto found himself at the batting cage once again a few days after the phone call, grinning when his shot hit the target dead center. The bat in his hands felt as natural as the sword, the two intertwining in his life. His next set also found the shiny metal bullseye, and by the end of the practice, he went to the locker room feeling quite pleased with his work that day.
"Yamamoto Takeshi."
Yamamoto looked up from his duffel bag in disbelief, the emotions threatening to overflow out of him.
I missed you. Won't you stay?
The many things he wanted to say turned around in his head, but he finally settled on three words.
"Welcome home, Kyouya."
The corners of Hibari's mouth turned up, making Yamamoto's heart skip a beat.
"I'm home."
"The moon is beautiful, isn't it?" (月がきれいですね?) - An indirect way of saying "I love you," supposedly coined by the Japanese novelist Natsume Soseki when he saw a student used the direct translation of, "I love you" (我君を愛す), which is not directly stated in Japanese culture very often
1DLK - Japanese term for an apartment with one bedroom in addition to a dining, living, and kitchen area
Hamburger steak - Hibari's favorite food. I recommend the recipe from the website Just One Cookbook ;)