Yamamoto woke up to the memory of a pair of angry silver eyes…he had seen those eyes so many times, those dark gray pupils surrounded by an iridescent of light lilac and fanning out into sparkling silver. Always glaring at the world full of unspoken feelings of injustice and loneliness, it was the most beautiful sight have ever entrapped him. It was also one that held his heart over the precipice of heartache and sympathy. How many times had he seen him walk the street dejected and wasted? How many times had he seen him try to climb out of the gutter that was his world, only to have people who thought themselves to be better pushed him back into it again? He wondered why he is so enthrall with the man but he could not help himself from being pulled in. He did not like the thought of such beauty being ravaged by this cold and unrelenting world, did not like the thought that this beauty will never get to bloom and will wither away into ashes before it's time.
He could not forget the boy he had met when they were in high school, still innocent, naïve and happy. He wondered if things would have been different had he been given an opportunity to experience an ordinary life. Would he have an opportunity to befriend the silver haired boy, before he stepped out in the world to fight for a place to stand, before he picked up that sword for the first time in his life, before he swore his loyalty to Vongola the 10th…one of the most respected mafia godfather and became his right hand man. Would he have the chance to save the silver hair man from the events that lead to his down trodden life?
Hayato…he played with the name on his tongue, he like it…the feeling of saying that name. He was always watching him from afar in high-school. The silver hair boy was an unattainable dream to him then. Yamamoto was the school's heart throb, their star baseball player and kendo student, he was watched by too many eyes to be honest to himself. He smiled, made friends and studied hard but his heart's desires were never fulfilled.
He wasn't sure if it was because of that reason that he was always flitting around the silver hair man's life, watching by the sideline as if he was watching the backstage production of an epic blockbuster. He muses if he had turned himself into a stalker as he made his way to the bathroom and feeling anxious to start his day. He had 'made contact' finally after so many years he definitely was not going to miss this opportunity to befriend the silver hair man again.
Ooo00ooO
"Ryohei, have you got his address?" Yamamoto asked the brawny looking man who was shifting about uncomfortably in his stiff black suit and waited patiently as the man rack through his pockets and produced a crumpled piece of paper.
"I thought you know where he lives?"
"I knew which neighborhood but..." 'I just never had the courage to look him up.' Yamamoto answered vaguely as he thought to himself. He stood up and grabbed his wallet from the counter of the mini-bar before walking out of the front door.
"You're going now? We've a meeting with Iemitsu in less then an hour's time!" Ryohei reminded him in his ever energetic voice. He might have outgrown his 'Extreme Attitude' on his outlook of life and matured as well over the years but his amended psychology seems to be compensating that by transferring his show of enthusiasm and zest by projecting it through his voice, making everything he said loud or obnoxious must of the time.
"I'm aware of that, apologize on my behalf and I'll be back in a couple of hours." Yamamoto said as he gave a smile and walk out of the gates leaving Ryohei fumbling with the car keys and thinking up of an appropriate excuse on why the right-hand man of Vongola the 10th wasn't going to be at the meeting because he had more important things than his mafia family to take care of.
Ooo00ooO
Gokudera grumbled and pulled his blanket over his head as he pointedly ignored the sharp raps on his door, he couldn't understand why the moron hadn't left. Isn't it obvious enough when the door was left unanswered for half an hour it probably meant that no one was at home? Beside, anyone knocking on his door this early in the morning probably won't be bearing any good news. Perhaps his landlord is after him for the rent again and that is a situation he wants to avoid at all costs.
He was determined to return to dreamland and was about to doze off when a voice called out his name…a voice that is unbelievably too cheerful and bright. Yap, he definitely remember where he heard this voice before but what is that person doing outside his home? He stumbled clumsily out of bed dragging the blanket with him to provide some modesty since he prefer sleeping naked and he wasn't bothered enough to look for clean laundry at the moment.
"Whad'dya wan?" he asks swinging open the door, unable to talk properly with his tongue feeling all swollen and thick in his mouth. Damn…his head hurts like hell too. He looked at the man standing at his door and tried desperately to remind himself of his name…Yama something isn't it?
"Maa…haha…am I too early?" Yamamoto greeted and stared at the large expense of slightly tanned skin exposed unwittingly to him and felt something tighten in him and his face heated up. It wasn't supposed to trigger such a reaction in him but after so many years of admiring from afar and yearning for the day when he could finally meet him face to face, he shouldn't be so hard on himself…
"Isn't that kinda obvious…?" Gokudera mumbled and pulled his blanket higher up to his chest not feeling entirely comfortable with a stranger staring at him so intently. "Gim'me a moment." he mumbled again before slamming the door unceremoniously in the face of the unsuspecting and uninvited visitor.
Yamamoto waited patiently outside while he tried to phrase how his proposal would be brought about. He did not want the silver hair man to think that he was some kind of weirdo or if he has any ulterior motives…basically speaking, it is precisely because he wanted to meet the man face to face and to create an opportunity to be closer to him that he was here. So that counts for a motive…he also needed someone who was familiar with the streets and whom the dealers weren't wary of…how can he get the guy to welcome the idea of getting hired by a guy he had only met at a convenient store and whom he barely know? Yamamoto shook his head. He was a man of stature and he had survived even more troublesome situation then this. Surely offering a guy some job shouldn't have him babbling to himself in his mind…?
