The Reality of Dreaming- Chapter 2
A dream is a wish you want to come true. But what happens when your wish is to remain dreaming forever?
Ding. Dingdingdingdangdangdangdongdongdong. Dong.
Hayato awoke to a cascade of notes, like a waterfall, as delicate fingers gracefully tumbled down scale after scale, drawing out a perfect symphony of soothing sound.
He could smell the sea, hear the waves in the background, and feel the warmth of the sun on his face as he lay on a fluffy bed. Nothing could be more peaceful, a total opposite to how his week had been back at home. There is warmth pressed against his back too, the steady reassuring warmth of a human, along with a hand teasing through his hair, making him want to purr. He lay there for a few minutes, eyes closed, just soaking in the peace and tranquillity of the moment. He collected himself mentally, allowed the place to heal him, smooth over the cracks, let him get himself back in order.
A different hand brushes the hair away from his forehead, dipping down to gently cup his cheek.
"My child, what has shaken you so?"
Hayato opened blurry eyes to look up at the most beautiful woman he could imagine. Her long silver hair framed a delicate face, housing soft green eyes, a small nose and light pink lips that always seemed to hold a small smile just for him.
"Mother..." Hayato mumbled, looking up into eyes so much greener than his own.
The piano kept on playing in the background, even though his mother is no longer sat before it (Because that's what he wanted). Hayato slowly sat up and accepted the hug his mother gave him (Because that's what he wanted). The hand in his hair left, only to place itself on Hayato's thigh instead, soothingly rubbing circles (Because that's what he wanted) even as the body moved to hug him from behind (Because that's what he wanted).
"Tell me what's wrong, Hayato." Whispered the person he loved and respected the most. His dearly precious Juudaime.
It was wrong of him to find comfort in an illusion, he knew. It was a sign of weakness, showing that he couldn't cope with reality. But he didn't really care. He fell into fantasy time and time again in the real world, so why not make it a happy dream? If this was going to get taken from him just like all the other happy times in his life, then he wanted to get the most out of it.
He had been living a happy life in the Castle before his life had been turned around by the absent chatter of the household maids. His suddenly perfect family was nothing of the sort, his mother dead, possibly killed by his father, or his step-mother, just because she had given birth to him.
He had been happy going to school by Juudaime's side, the peaceful days where he didn't have to fight for his life, where he didn't have to commit crimes just to live. He had found a place of happiness, peace and laughter, filled with snowball fights and fireworks. But that had been ripped away from him, from them all, when the Ninth, in all his wisdom, decided it was time for Juudaime to train to be his heir in Italy rather than in Japan. Where he'd fallen back into the dark and his friends were slowly being dragged in with him.
Each time he found a moment of happiness he hoped it would last, but it was inevitably snatched away from him. So this one time, he'd like it to last as long as it could. Even if it meant a deal with the Devil. He already led a life of Sin and Temptation, so why not keep going and get the things he really wanted?
And that meant having his two most precious people by his side.
The others appeared too sometimes, when he wanted to remember the feeling of being part of something bigger, when he wanted the feeling of being part of a family, but in general, it was just Juudaime and Lavina.
And hopefully once again they could help him smooth over the cracks.
"The others have been looking at me weirdly all week. They saw a side of me that they didn't expect and now they're no longer sure how to look at me. It's all Reborn's fault, telling Juudaime and the others what he did."
"If you want to see a true professional, why not just watch Gokudera."
"I didn't realise they were watching me when I punished an enemy of Vongola's. The others are still learning about how we do stuff like that. They didn't know what a monster you have to become to deal with the type of people the Mafia holds."
"So you're still not going to tell me?" Gokudera asks, blowing out the smoke from his cigarette into the face of the man in front of him. The captive shakes his head even though he is still trembling from Gokudera's previous treatment.
Gokudera scowls before pressing his still lit cigarette to the soft skin on the underside of the captive's arm. The man bites his lip as he screams, muffling the sound. He continues to make burn mark after burn mark as he says, "You know what a powerhouse Vongola is, we'll get the information one way or another. So since it'll end up in our hands anyway, why not save yourself the trouble and just give it to me now? Why did you do it?"
The man doesn't answer, even as Gokudera stops the burning to allow the man to talk.
"I've looked you up before our little chat. Nice wife you have there. Pretty thing. Just a few words to the right people and she can be out of a job by tomorrow morning. A few more words in the right places and no one else will hire her. A few words in a different place and some very unpleasant men might just find her in a dark alleyway as she makes her way home late at night. I honestly can't say what will happen to her, you know what some men are like. And I know just who to talk to to make all this happen. I happen to have a very nice spot in Vongola."
Gokudera steps back, watching the fear in the captive's eyes, the worry flaring up for his wife.
But still he doesn't talk.
"But the problem was, it was a man from my past. Someone who had met The Smokin' Bomb."
Gokudera cuts the man's shirt open before smirking in evil delight. "Oh, look at that, that's my mark. I've met you before, when I was younger." Sitting on the man's chest was a scar in the shape of a hurricane. "Should I give you a matching one on the right side to commemorate our reunion?" He was famous enough to have a nickname after all. He knew what he was doing.
The captive glares at him, daring him to do it again. "Like I give a shit about a scar like that. What are you going to do to me this time? Place fake dynamite on my lap and pretend that it'll go off to make me squeal? I won't fall for that trick again. I know about you and your methods. I know all about how the adults used to give you executions, hoping to break a child like you. That they'd get you to torture the psychopaths and the men with nothing to live for as a joke, betting on when you'd cry and give up. I know that you were chucked out of three different families for killing the bastards that teased you a little too much. So go ahead and do your worse. You're still nothing but a child pretending to be an adult, whether you're twelve or nineteen."
The words hurt, bringing up memories of hard times he'd rather forget. He'd found Vongola now, a place that appreciated him, a place where he belonged and was loved and cared for. He had found Juudaime now, sweet innocent Juudaime. And he'd do anything to protect Juudaime from the scum of the earth. And if that meant being a monster so that Juudaime never had to walk into a room like this and paint his hands red, then so be it.
"I'm not the brat I used to be, walking into a torture room like this with a determined scowl on my face, pretending to be an adult. I no longer have anything to prove. After all, I am now Vongola Decimo's Right Hand Man. I don't need to prove anything to anyone. Unlike you. You're rather expendable. Your Boss wouldn't waste good people on an attack on Vongola that's doomed to fail. Do you think your Boss is worrying about you right now? Do you think he's even noticed that you're gone? Does he even care about low grade Mafioso like you? I don't think he does. Why bother being loyal to someone who doesn't care about you? Just give me what I want to know and I'll let you go. This is your last chance, or else I'll be sending you back to your Boss in pieces."
He had grown up from the little boy he used to be, and now he knew the importance of psychological attacks, using words to hurt the heart and spirit where pain would not. He wasn't out to defeat an enemy with raw strength like the Guardian's had been up until now. He wasn't out saving the world. He was torturing. And that required a different approach totally.
That wasn't to say that pain wasn't a good technique though. As the captive soon found out.
"If it was just that, then I could have dealt with it, talked to them in private and sorted out what worries they had. Reborn must have known it was a blow I could have taken or else he wouldn't have said what he did, knowing the others would follow. But yesterday my past caught up with me in a different way, at a high class Mafia party..."
"Now presenting the Vongola Nono and his Right Hand."
The room falls silent as the Ninth walks in and down the stairs. Some people, mainly allied Bosses, come forwards to greet him. But the Ninth holds his hand up and the room respectfully returns to silence.
"I would like to present to everyone my Heir. It's his first party so go easy on him." The Ninth laughs and the room obligingly laughs with him. "I present to you all the Vongola Decimo, Tsunayoshi Sawada, and his Right Hand man, Hayato Gokudera."
The pair step forwards, trying to pretend that they weren't nervous and shaking. Sure Gokudera had seen meetings like these held at his father's Castle, but he'd never taken part, had never been old enough to actually participate in the conversations other than to ask all the women present if his teddy bear looked cute. Being less than eight years old at the time, it was an important question.
The pair both bow before their audience in greeting before descending the stairs and following after the Ninth through the crowd to find the Host of the party and greet him.
But that's when Gokudera hears the whispers of the other party guests.
"He's just a Bastard Son. What right does he have being so high in such a prestigious Famiglia like Vongola?"
"I bet be wormed his way in with the heir, flattering him and seducing him, just like his mother did."
"He probably has the Heir wrapped around his little finger, manipulating him at every turn."
"A Bastard Son can never amount to anything, he'll just bring Vongola down."
"He wants revenge for being a bastard son so decided to take control of Vongola."
"He's just after the fame, money and power, I bet he doesn't care at all for the Heir."
It didn't matter that his last name had changed over the years- he wasn't going to keep the one his father gave him. Features like his were rare, especially the colour of his hair. He hadn't changed that much from when he was a child, so it was obvious that he was going to get recognised.
But the words tare at him, like sniper shots through his heart. He hopes that Juudaime couldn't hear them. He was being an embarrassment to Vongola merely through his presence alone.
Once upon a time, those words might have been true. He had gone to Japan with the intent to kill the Vongola Decimo heir, unknowing of Reborn's plans, or the fact that Vongola could only be inherited through bloodlines- many families kept leadership in the blood, just not to the extent Vongola did. Maybe there had been thoughts of proving himself to the world, to one-upping his father.
But he no longer harboured such thoughts ever since his life had been saved by Juudaime. And in the many years between then and now, his loyalty and respect had only deepened for the other. He could honestly say he loved Juudaime and would never think of using him for fame or power. Juudaime could use him as he saw fit, but he would never do that to his most precious person. Juudaime didn't care that he was a bastard child, didn't care that he used to belong to many different families. Juudaime accepted him as who he was and that's all that mattered. As long as Juudaime had a favourable opinion of him, as long as Juudaime held trust in him, then Gokudera would be happy.
"I haven't talked to Juudaime since then, we haven't had the opportunity. I've kept away from them all. I don't want them to hate me for who I used to be."
His mother just held him closer and made small shushing sounds. Juudaime tightened his grip, pressing his chest against Hayato's back before whispering, "I could never hate you Hayato."
Because that's what he wanted.
It was no wonder he was having one of his dark days; his self-confidence had never been that good because he had always been trying to please someone else. A lot of his confidence came from what trust and responsibility others put in him, what praise they gave him. It was something easily shattered and hard to put back together. Hence why he had so many cracks and why they were currently all on display. Who he was in the eyes of the only person that mattered was currently under threat and Hayato wasn't sure if the outcome was going to be a positive one. Juudaime would say he was okay with it because he was a kind person like that, not wanting to hurt his feelings. But how much would be truth? How much would be lies?
"I love you, Hayato." Juudaime whispered into his ear, nuzzling against his neck.
Because that's what he wanted.
So Hayato closed his eyes, sighed a deep sigh, and fell.
Phantom Hitman 1412
First Published: 03 November 2013