The Wheel (Sequel to All Is Violent, All Is Bright)
Author: Jusrecht
Characters/Pairing: Dino/Hibari
Warning: Not recommended for anyone who finds the ending of All Is Violent, All Is Bright sufficient as it is.
–
"Juudaime."
Alone, Gokudera's voice was a knife that cut. Underlined by his invariable loyalty, it lent an awkward sort of companionship which had long since smoothed its bites and stings into comfort. His expression was reserved solely for concern when he added, "Maybe you should return to the villa and rest. I will continue the search."
Tsuna blinked the mist out of his eyes. They tingled in the cold, under a sky that had softened into light grey. Morning was on its tail, swift to chase night out of the horizon.
"I'm fine." He made sure to throw a reassuring smile at his Storm Guardian before casting his gaze to the forest, where sunrise crested treetops and shadows still lurked in the deep. All things considered, the rescue mission had been moderately successful. His first and foremost objective was achieved and Dino was now receiving medical treatment in a makeshift tent. Yamamoto and Chrome, both injured but alive and breathing, had now returned to his side.
His Cloud was another story.
"There's no reason why he shouldn't be all right." The voice was close, intimate, but not intrusive. Gokudera only recognised boundaries and decorum when it came to one person, that with flame strong enough to bind his fealty. Tsuna looked at him, affection in his eyes, and while his heart might be inclined to be eased, the line of his mouth remained grim.
"I know I shouldn't worry about Hibari-san, but..."
His lips were dry and slightly chapped. He bit them fiercely, wondering if there was any way to word his intuition, explain in a language less abstract the length of his concern. A trusted companion over years, he knew when to rely on it – and now it whispered to him this, not the confidence which customarily came with Hibari Kyouya's name.
It was Dino's eyes, if he were to delve more into the whys. Hooded, they had retreated deep behind their shutters when Tsuna confessed himself unaware of Hibari's whereabouts. No one had seen him, but, he stumbled in confusion, brows furrowed, wasn't he supposed to move out together, with them?
He didn't need a quick, sidelong look from the corner of Yamamoto's eyes to know that something was wrong.
But things were always wrong, between two so incongruent. Hibari had never been the cloud to Dino's sky, the blood to Dino's heart, or the black to Dino's white. He was neither a complement nor a converse, because he was never anything with a name or a reason. A pillar not beneath any roof, a star not within any constellation, and still he witnessed Dino trying to take all implications of distance and solitude in one stride and render them null.
It would have been inspiring, if not so painful to watch. Tsuna couldn't remember since when he had begun to wear an apologetic smile in front of Dino – and those bruises, really, they couldn't have been all Hibari's fault, could they?
Some hurt went deeper than that. He knew this when Kusakabe appeared, a body too small, too still in his arms, and the foundations of his world shook a little. His mind understood, recognised fact for what it was, a human body for its frailties and restrictions, but Hibari, somehow, stood above it all. He was always better, always invincible, always exceeding expectations, always, always, always.
"He," Kusakabe was speaking in a wild, tight voice, the staccato of his breath drowned by the urgency in his tone, "ordered me to take him elsewhere."
But he had disobeyed and Tsuna pressed his lips together as Gokudera shouted for medics. Two doctors arrived, the Tenth Cavallone on their heels, a stony look frozen on his face even as he took in Hibari's condition. It only wavered once, when Kusakabe, clearly indisposed to relinquish his boss to the care of medical experts, slowly set Hibari down on the cot they had brought. The motion jerked him out of his unconsciousness and his eyes flung open, wild and accusing, a pained gasp on the sharp curve of his lips.
Everyone stilled. His gaze came to life all of a sudden, eyes narrowing in distaste at the crowd, past the striking shade of Dino's hair much too quickly. It settled vindictively on Kusakabe, the man still kneeling at his side with a look that would have seemed contrite on a less wooden face.
"You dare defy..."
The rest of his words were swallowed by a violent coughing fit, raspy, bloodless, a torment to Tsuna's ears. One of the medics had sufficient presence of mind to seize this chance and give him a shot, but he was not quick enough. Hibari's instinct rebelled and Tsuna saw Dino move, knew the mess this action would have caused if allowed, and swiftly put himself on the way. He had seen it, how Dino exploited the attribute of his flame and its power over others, but for once, it was his hand which touched the side of Hibari's arm.
The sensation nearly overpowered him. His focus momentarily frayed, stumbling in the whirl of Hibari's turbulent flame, vicious and unbridled as the older man kept his defences elsewhere, against pain more physical and demanding. It took him a reach beyond his limit of concentration, his head aching, thoughts punctuated by the recurrent mantra of how anyone could handle this more than once, to emerge victorious in the shambolic fight. Slowly, he felt Hibari go limp, flame lulled into restless quiet as his consciousness sank to a deep sleep.
Tsuna opened his eyes to Gokudera's hands steady on his shoulders and Dino's carefully blank stare. He rose to his feet, mouth a grim line as he nodded at the doctors to take Hibari away, and assumed the role of Vongola Tenth.
"We need to speak."
–
Tsuna said nothing when Dino politely declined his offer to stay in the Vongola Mansion. My family, he declared and needed not say more, for this was true, spoken as a true leader should, and Tsuna understood. A part of him wanted to object, reason that his injuries were nowhere near superficial – and many of them bore marks of tonfa, which unsettled him deeply – but he held his tongue and nodded concession.
"If there is anything I can help, please don't hesitate to tell me, Dino-san."
His answer was a smile stripped bare of any humour that even its gratitude lay wasted on barren solitude. "We will have to do this alone," he said, in his expression a spark of pride that Tsuna recognised he himself lacked. "That's the only way to get back on our feet, for real."
"Then maybe in the manner of information?" he pressed his case on a different avenue. "Your intelligence network is now half-crippled as a result of the attack, Dino-san. At least allow me to help this much, as a friend and ally."
A pause, an unnecessary one, occurred, its presence heavy, invasive, but noiseless. Tsuna couldn't quite understand this hesitation, neither its origin nor its purpose, but wisely kept the opinion to himself. He breathed slow and steady, awaiting answer – the inevitable one, for they both knew that there was revenge still. Dino might be one of the most merciful dons in their pugnacious underworld, but debts cast away unpaid often demanded a worse, greater payment in the end. They both had learnt this the hard way. As long as Dormiglione was yet to crumble to its knees, it remained an albatross around their neck, to Cavallone and its allies.
More than once or twice, Tsuna considered advising against it. Forgiveness was nearly always better – they hardly needed blood or vengeance to be strong. But he had seen the dead bodies that tightened Dino's jaw, robbed his face of all colours and mirth, and then he thought about his own guardians and his blood turned to ice, mercy slipping from his slackening grasp.
Humans, he thought. They were just humans, as easy an excuse it was.
"As a friend and ally." Dino repeated solemnly, but half the cloud had not gone from his face. Nevertheless he nodded, the movement smooth, polished, eyes firmly trained on him. "Thank you, Tsuna."
"Don't mention it." He breathed freely now, with a faint smile that eased each passage. "You would do the same, if not more."
The tent was now brightly lit as sunrise slowly yielded to morning, and Tsuna could clearly see the other man's face, angry bruises stark against the washed-out pale of strain and weariness. He felt his stomach knot, heard the lament in his head, not for the first time, why Dino couldn't have chosen a gentler soul to love, why Hibari just couldn't, couldn't, couldn't. Everything was couldn't with that man – or wouldn't, rather, for he was no victim of single-choices.
"I know you will take care of every member of your family well," Dino spoke again, his voice low, almost uncertain as he stared at his tangled fingers. "He... what happened to him was largely my fault, but I must stay with my family until everything is settled."
For once, Tsuna was glad that Dino was not looking at him. He bit his lips, and he remembered murmuring a few words, and then sentences to reassure a broken man, promises that he himself thought nigh impossible to keep. But Tsuna recalled his younger years, when impossibility had been every bullet that found aim in the angle of Reborn's fingers. Resolve alone had shown him the way.
"I promise," he said.
And if there was a reason, if he ever needed any reason at all, then the aching numb-pain in Dino's smile was more than enough.
–
"He... refused?"
"Speak with him, if you want." Shamal shrugged indifferent shoulders, both hands thrust deep into his white coat's pockets, posture defensive. "I'm sure as hell won't put my life on the line for a patient who doesn't even wish to recover."
Tsuna was startled. "You mean–"
"No," Shamal's smirk was wry, almost listless in its lack of concern. "Guy's definitely got issues but suicide isn't one of them. All I'm saying is I can't treat him until he sorts them out nicely, but that isn't going to happen anytime soon, right?"
Tsuna was astonished, but he couldn't say that he was surprised when Shamal came to him with the news that his Cloud Guardian had plainly refused further medical treatment once he was coherent enough to do so. Maybe he should have foreseen this, he thought feebly, and spared him the headache and Hibari the pain.
"I'll talk to him," he decided. There was a ghost of a grin on Shamal's face, wishing him a silent and ominous good luck.
There turned out to be no talk at all. He could scarcely walk into Hibari's wing of residence without the howling fury of Cloud's flame spiralling and crushing down his frame. Stealth made no difference to him, since his honed warrior instinct did not allow him ignorance. And then, of course, Tsuna quickly remembered what he and his flame had done, and made a swift retreat from the area lest the reaction did more harm to his injured guardian than it would to him.
Nigh impossible to keep, he thought, was a severe understatement.
–
Bits of news came every afternoon from Kusakabe, face darkened by storm that refused to lift. Tsuna sat behind his desk and read the awkward combination of plea and accusation in his knitted brow. He felt an itch in his toes, to do something, anything, but there was very little he could do. The same trick wouldn't work twice on Hibari, and he knew no other.
Maybe Kusakabe understood, because he returned every day and reported, if reluctantly, that perhaps Hibari's condition did improve. Perhaps, for his medical knowledge was limited to superficial wounds that his boss often came back with. In return, Tsuna made sure to slip a word or two concerning the Cavallone famiglia, what little his spies could garner in the midst of the guerrilla war Dino was waging. Between keeping relative order in this tumultuous time and intimidating any potential enemy not to stand in Dino's way, he went to a restless sleep every night.
On the fifth day, he succumbed to riddles of anxiety and asked Yamamoto the question.
"I'm not sure if it's any of our business," was Yamamoto's reply. His smile was constant, invariable, and this one he wore when he had either nothing else to show or everything to hide. But the quiet politeness in his voice was an unfamiliar presence, enough to serve as a warning.
"I understand," Tsuna replied, evening the ground. "But I won't pry unless it is very important for me to know."
Yamamoto took a moment's silence for the weight of knowledge to sink in, and then said, "I can only tell you what I know."
Tsuna nodded and Yamamoto began. The forest, thick with mist, riddled with memories that hummed different tunes from one's recall to another. Their wet, cold journey knocked many doors, and behind one of them was the unspoken depth of Hibari's anger, despair, hatred, apathy – he hardly knew what to name it. And then Dino, with his smile stood unrivalled and his stubborn masquerade of strength, the spiked armour he wore for he had to be impervious to everything, and somewhere in between, hells broke loose. An argument, Yamamoto said, his voice growing flat with each word, muted enough to cast a deeper shadow on Romario's face. Words were dangerous, but sometimes fists could hurt worse.
"He left soon after that, alone. I would have stopped him if I had known what he intended to do, but..." Yamamoto shrugged. "It was an excuse."
"It wasn't your fault." Tsuna rose to his feet, went around his chair to grip the back with his fingers, cold leather yielding quickly to heat. The frown was heavy lines between his brow, and he looked up, holding Yamamoto's gaze. "Did you see him?"
A pause, and then, "Yes."
The hurt clawed him fast and painful, but Tsuna dismissed it just as quickly, struck it down as unreasonable and downright irrational. Then relief came flooding in, a welcomed substitute.
"Kusakabe-san said that he was doing better."
Yamamoto looked at him and there was sympathy, too much like pity, in his eyes. "He will survive," he said, clear-spoken and firm in all his insouciance. Tsuna tried to match the effort, but pretence still did not come easily to him, despite demands and practices.
"This isn't just about pride, is this?" he asked, mournful instead, much too world-weary to hide behind any facade.
A smile curled Yamamoto's lips, honest but grim. "With him, who knows?"
–
Nearly five weeks had passed before Dino finally made his first contact.
"Maybe I should say congratulations?" Tsuna asked, a little uncomfortably, after they had both made certain of each other's health, if not well-being. Dormiglione sank like a great, lumbering ship, slowly at first, and then fast spinning its own demise as Poseidon called vengeance forth and his ocean sucked every nail and timbre and steel to its depth. Tsuna read each report with uncurbed shudder as every member of Cosa Nostra trembled in fear. He mourned the loss of so many lives, just as he mourned for the hands that pulled the trigger.
"I don't think it's quite applicable in this case." Dino's laugh was thin, his breathing slow, accentuated, and Tsuna didn't even dare imagine his face. "There was a source from within, Tsuna. It was the reason why we had so many casualties."
The sting of betrayal was needle-sharp and it didn't fade with time. He sank deeper into his seat, away from the walls that seemed to suddenly close down upon him.
"You expected that."
"I did," Dino's admission was underlined with self-reproach, "but only after it had happened. There had been rumours, before, but I hadn't taken any action."
An unpaid debt, Tsuna thought, that demanded greater payment. He still remembered Fuuta's ranking, yet unchanged, of Dino's compassion in a world that demanded less. He tried not to think about Vongola and how many spies and enemy's limbs must be lurking within their ranks, and found refuge, as shallow as it was, in pouring his attention to the other man's debacle.
"Has everything been settled?"
"Relatively." A pause was applied, deliberate, each fraction of a second with a purpose. "But there is still much to do to reclaim our lost authority. I'm afraid I won't be able to visit Japan anytime soon."
"I see." Tsuna swallowed his disappointment and forced himself to see sense. It was perhaps just as well, at least until Hibari recuperated fully. Neither of them, one's limp physical and the other mental, could afford another scene at the moment – although really, he reflected wryly, who was he to ever judge the strength of these two men, far beyond his ken as they had so often proved.
"How is he?" came the uneasy question, wrapped in too much reserve it almost lost its curious edge.
Tsuna found the same reserve on his lips. "He is recovering," he answered, omitting any unpleasant detail for all good intents and purposes. At that moment, his intuition flickered, sharply reminding him of its presence and perspicacity. Vongola's hyper intuition never sat on the sidelines and offered counsel. It commanded, arrogant and complacent in its invulnerability to errors, and once more Tsuna found himself a servant to the whimsical master.
"But maybe a visit will do him good," he added, against his own judgment.
Maybe Dino was smiling, one born not out of amusement, but rather an excuse to fill a vacant space. "I doubt it will help in the way you imagine, Tsuna," he spoke calmly, without inflection. "He's stronger than that."
"Don't," the word abruptly left his mouth and Tsuna had no intention to hold down the rest. "Please don't, Dino-san. You're the only one who doesn't see him like that and if he loses this..."
What then? His mind drew blank – what then. Hibari would still be Hibari, and everyone would still treat him like a war god, a being so strong he no longer belonged amongst human. The Cloud Guardian clearly preferred it that way, but Dino, Dino had refused to fit in with the rest of them from day one. Kyouya, he had called, daring, cavalier, ignorant of the winding, thorny path his feet had taken with that one barrier torn down. The rest was a Domino Effect which would pause only at Dino's call – and he never did.
"You know this cannot last, Tsuna," but he spoke quietly, nothing like the confident man who courted death with an interminable smile. A part of Tsuna feared what had happened, what had brought this change, but the rest simply froze as the words stumbled into sense.
"Then what are you doing?" His voice gained the coldness of ice when speech returned within his power. He was astonished, disappointed, angry, frustrated – and only after the silence had brewed long enough that he questioned whether he had a claim on any of those swirling emotions.
But oh he did. He certainly did.
"I love him," Dino said, plaintive, a fact so old and dry it shrivelled like dead leaves under the sun. But it was never a question. Even madness was not enough to play-act devotion such as his, all these years, if stood alone. There must be love to guide its hand, and together they defined what Tsuna had the misfortune to witness – the old conundrum, when an immovable object met an unstoppable force.
"Perhaps you should decide," he surprised even himself with the calmness that ruled his voice, "before you come to see him." A pause, a silent debate, but his choice was clear. "Or I must advise against it," he cautioned.
If Dino was at all surprised at his warning, it was manifested in a laugh, short and impossibly false. In a none-too-gentle voice that still lay beneath arches of mockery, he pointed out to Tsuna that Hibari would surely kill him if ever he found out about this protecting stunt he was trying to pull.
Tsuna smiled at the emptiness of his office, finding the expression oddly appropriate. "It was my promise to you, Dino-san," he replied, refused to be shaken, "that I would take care of him."
Dino kept his answer away for a long time. Tsuna counted his heartbeat in the stillness, simple chore that let him keep track on their conversation instead of sinking too deep into the mire of his thoughts. He came close to one-hundred-and-ten when silence finally gave way to a reply.
"There will be an answer," Dino said, in a subdued voice that was anything but familiar, "when I come to Japan."
Tsuna closed his eyes, finding it more difficult to breathe, somehow. "Thank you," he fought to keep calm, even as he questioned his own wisdom, now, when it was all too late to do so. "Please forgive me if I have gone too far, Dino-san."
This time, the answering laugh was genuine, if brief. "An apology may undermine everything you have built, Tsuna," he said, not a reproach.
"Still, it's a right thing to do."
In Dino's third pause, he found what the former two lacked and breathed more easily. "Vongola is your ally, as I am your friend," he added, for good measure if not a second apology. "I hope I haven't done anything to compromise both."
If there was a hint of reserve in Dino's soft 'thank you', Tsuna could hardly blame him.
–
Three days before the arrival of Dino's entourage, Tsuna summoned Gokudera and Yamamoto to his office to share with them the news .
Gokudera's expression was grim, but he nodded, understand, and assumed responsibility to make necessary arrangements. Yamamoto looked at him, long and hard, and then asked, if lacking his usual flippancy, whether they should consider evacuating themselves from the vicinity.
Tsuna laughed, mostly because he hoped Yamamoto had been joking – but deep down, instinctively, he knew a cataclysm was just around the corner.
End
–
Notes: Thank you for reading and please comment! Confrontation of Doom is next D: