Another night alone
Title inspired by: SR-71 – Another night alone
Disclaimer: I don't own KHR.
Author's Note:
There isn't much 1896 interaction this time because Chrome is trying to improve her association with others. If you're sensing a romantic bond between Yamamoto and Chrome... please, reread this chapter :P It's all about friendship. Yamamoto is one emotionally instable, maladjusted person XD
My heartfelt thanks to P3achi3, Marabou, Merisela, xSkywires, KHR LOVER, Papiermoon, renderedvoice and last but not least KeyLimeChibi ;)
Marabou – For the time being, there are about thirteen rough drafts... so yes, there'll be more ;) Also thanks for dampen my English paranoia :D
Merisela – It wasn't my intention to make them sound mean or anything. It's just their way to cope with Chrome's social awkwardness XD
Papiermoon – Thanks, but I fear I won't be able to keep them true to their original characters. Hibari + anything love related = OOC (at least, that's my equation) However, I'll try my best to keep him IC. So, you like wedding themes? I can promise you, there'll be more of that!
Thanks for reading.
Months, years ago, Chrome experienced something equal to happiness. There hadn't been a single day of loneliness.
Nagi had felt alone. A lot.
But Chrome has had Mukuro-sama and he had been on/in her mind and had been protecting her, caring for her.
Alteration.
Change came and he was free. He was free to go on a mission with the Sun (just like Boss had ordered, two weeks ago) and free to leave her. The connection, their bond was severed. She used to call him but now there was only silence. And an uprising feeling of loneliness.
Chrome felt alone.
Birds were chirping joyfully and the air was fresh, crisp. It was early and only an insignificant small number of people was walking through the streets, mainly young students and business men. She watched the children in their winter uniforms and a gentle breeze brought a faint memory of her own past before caring it away into the emerald crowns of majestic trees. No noise could be heard, there was solely silence except for the occasional rustling of the white plastic bag or the sound of her silken, ecru skirt against skin.
Chrome liked the less populated parts of Namimori-shi because these areas were not as loud as the city centre and they offered quite pleasant views. Like today. She marvelled at the architecture, the small-sized gardens and the old playgrounds. It seemed like there was still a soul from ancient times hidden in this neighbourhood whereas the city was nothing but a cold place; sterile, analytic, sarcastic. Pondering, she stopped walking. If that was the case, would Boss be the suburbs? And Hibari-san the city?
A picture of an aconite-filled centre of Namimori appeared before her but she shook her head, the smell of the beautiful, yet deadly flower -his smell- almost present.
She tried to refocus, told herself that there was a more prominent task on her hands and resumed walking. It didn't take her much longer to arrive at her destination.
The illusionist knocked on the maroon door with quick, rapping motions. A tired grumble answered her and she waited for her fellow Guardian to show up. The male finally opened the door and blinked sleepy, sable hair comically unkempt.
"Good morning, Rai-... Yamamoto-san."
He smiled at her, face red and sweat rolling down his temples in tiny beads. He was wearing an olive-green T-shirt and cocoa brown sweatpants. Obviously his sleeping attire.
"Chrome, what a surprise. What are you doing here?"
She tried to answer with a lopsided smile but it ended in a frown.
"I heard you're ill. Boss asked me to check on you."
He nodded, gaze resting on the plastic bag in her hand. He pointed at it and raised a confused eyebrow, albeit his face still held a smirk. She fidgeted.
"T-this...? I was told... that tangerines are good for a sick person. They contain lots of vitamin C. Also some fever patches and a few... incense sticks. For your father."
His eyes turned into a peculiar shade of melancholy (something more mature, obtained over the years through blows of fate and coping mechanisms) but before Chrome could even grasp its real meaning, it was already gone. She wondered whether or not it had been a good idea to mention his late father. Or was she pestering him with her (probably unwanted) visit? Relief formed in her (non-existent) stomach once the smile returned to his face.
"Haha, sorry. I was spacing out. Also sorry for making you come here. But I really appreciate your thoughtfulness. And the... gifts?"
He was praising her and she was all at sea. How to react? After all these years, she still wasn't used to the sincereness of her acquaintances, though they tried really, really hard to make her feel comfortable, especially the girls.
For her, it was a learning process, slow and difficult.
"I forgot to mention... I... also brought some... milk?
Yamamoto beamed at her.
"Ah, that's awesome. Thank you so much. How do you know I crave that stuff?"
Because Boss had taught her once about certain preferences of every single Vongola Guardian and she had made a chart for each member, listing their likes and dislikes. It was proof of her desire, her efforts, to get along with the others. And even though she was lacking essential conversational skills and didn't know much about common courtesy or etiquette, she was sure that she couldn't admit something like this.
So:
"I think Bossu causally mentioned it at one time."
He nodded with a grin. As a result, she assumed her answer had been the right choice. However, it still shocked her when the Rain stepped back, leaving the door open in an unspoken invitation.
"Please, come in. I'll make some tea for us."
Chrome persevered in bewilderment, thoughts rushing through her head and she tried to figure out how to act upon this request. Steadily solving the puzzle in her mind, she closed the door, slipped out of her shoes to place them at the entrance and followed him through the unfamiliar place. Looking around in wonder, she was thinking so hard, tried frantically to avoid any kind of improper behaviour, any kind of mistake, that she failed to notice the small cabinet and walked promptly into the inanimate object.
She landed on the floor with a loud crash. Ah, she felt pathetic.
Apparently, her learning process was painful.
"Are you okay?"
Looking up, she found herself staring into Yamamoto-san's caramel brown eyes and nodded, gaze travelling down to his pale scar and she suddenly wondered if it had been painful to receive it. Lost again, she jerked when a hand -his hand- appeared in her peripheral vision. Carefully taking her hand, the swordsman helped her up and she compared his tender tranquillity to Hibari-san's capricious countenance. But then again, she compared a great number of things to Hibari-san as of late.
Just like she had thought the world and everyone, measured against Mukuro-sama, was fictitious and otiose (when she was younger; the period, the era after Nagi and before deterioration). She closed her eye and wagged her head to blow away the cobwebs.
"Thank you."
He stared.
"For helping me up."
A grin.
"No, it's fine. There is no need to thank me for suc-," he froze and bent over when a coughing fit embraced him, took over his body and shook his tall frame.
Chrome flailed about next to him for she was insecure what do to. Realizing that her panic wasn't exactly helpful either, she place a timid hand on his shoulder to calm him, reassure him. Another lesson taught by Boss. Finally, he regained his composure and emitted only a few shallow coughs until even those subsided. She sighed in relief.
"Thank you."
At this moment, she experienced a second success because she had done something right. However, the delight didn't last long since another conclusion struck her. Yamamoto-san was unexceptional nice to her (well, it was his normal demeanour, she deduced) but so far they had only exchanged petty niceties and she asked herself if her presence was a burden to the man who felt already under the weather (and there was a funny pun about weather and rain and illness but it sounded suspiciously like something Mukuro-sama would have said and she shut off her mind to keep her sanity). There was no "real" conversation going on between them.
And she knew she was boring and maybe a bit slow sometimes and had been the damsel in distress enough and to spare but this time, she wanted more.
She wanted so much more.
She wanted so much more and she was willing to fight for it, although she feared being rejected.
But:
"You're ill," she began and fumbled with her frail hands, "and I think you should go to bed. D-don't worry about the tea. I take care of that! I can make some okayu, too. Haru taught me (and he was obviously happy to hear anything but "Bianchi-san")!"
He angled his head to the side and regarded her with a bland face. Panic and its companion fear clawed her heart, threatening to tear the paper-like tissues apart. No more rejection, she begged. Eventually, he nodded in tacit consent.
"But please add an umeboshi or at least some katsuobushi. I dread the boring, plain taste of okayu. It's like eating wet cardboard," he whined and scratched the back of his head.
The female goggled at him and blinked and blinked some more before giving a high, clear laugh. A broad grin spread of his face.
"This is the first time I see you laughing. And quite natural, too."
She blushed and was unable to reply without stammering. The only way out was to send him to bed, her tactic of avoiding the uprising of any weird atmosphere. He obeyed and she was alone in his kitchen. Whirling around the room, the girl looked for the needed cooking utensils. While searching, she didn't fail to notice a set of expensive knives in an excellent condition. Chrome resisted the urge to inspect the sharp tools and decided to concentrate on the task of cooking.
This persistent gaze of hers returned to knives once in a while until she decided to ask the Rain later on. They really did seem to be of some importance.
Determined to succeed in cooking, the end result wasn't even as bad as she had anticipated and a new-found pride swelled inside her chest. A familiar feeling, reminder of the first illusion she had ever created (all on her own, once upon a time).
Today was a day full of nostalgia. She sighed.
Placing the okayu into an earthenware bowl, she looked around in search of a tray or something similar though all she found was a geta. Oh, that would do, too. The illusionist gathered everything and scuttled out of the kitchen yet she had never before stepped into this house nor did she remember where the location of the bedroom was. Feeling completely lost, she wandered through the corridor until she stopped in front of an open door. This was most definitely not the bedroom. Nevertheless, Yamamoto-san was inside and she was about to (consider) scold(ing) him when she realized that he was kneeling in front of a batsudan.
The smell of the delivered incense filled the room, invaded her nose.
Taking a deep breath, she strolled over and knelt down next to him whilst putting the geta on the ground next to her. Violet eye closed in respect and her hands pressed together by their palms for a silent prayer.
She'd never been too religious.
His voice startled her.
"You know, he laughed a lot, an out and out likeable person. Popular and taking no nonsense. But he was also extremely strict every once in a while. Especially with himself. We were very close."
He turned towards her and there was no smile on his face, no childish charisma. His whole expression was completely devoid of emotions.
She kept silent.
"Indeed, it took him twelve years of apprenticeship until he mastered the art of sushi and became an itamae-san. But he lived according to the ideals of the Samurai and followed the code of Bushido. You see, he wore the traditional clothing on a daily basis and treasured his knives like an actual sword."
Yes, the knives in the kitchen. He must have bequeathed them to Yamamoto-san. Her question had been answered without being asked. All at once, Chrome's fingernails became interesting and she stared at them, a light cramp starting to invade her legs.
"My mother..."
His eyes widened and confusion washed over his features, cleaning the blank, hollow stare from before away. She thought it would be unfair if she didn't reciprocate his honesty with an anecdote of her past.
"My mother wasn't much of a pleasant person. She wasn't as nice or as patient as Kyoko (because saving Nagi wasn't worth it and nobody wanted her anyway; the distant ring of a long forgotten voice)."
"That being said... there was an incident, long ago. Our teacher wanted us to bring a bento to school. I told my mother and she promised to prepare one for me."
Her mouth twisted into a listless grin.
"In the end, I was the only one without a meal. Later on, I asked her about it. She just replied that she'd been busy and I should have done it myself in the first place. I had just started going to the kindergarten back then."
"Did you hate her?"
For a short time, she was contemplating.
"No."
Her head hung low.
"When your father died... were you angry with Boss? Because of the whole Mafia thing?"
His gaze settled on the small picture of his smiling father.
"I tried. But I couldn't."
They said nothing afterwards, just sat together in silence. But despite his bubbly nature, he didn't seem to mind and she overall enjoyed his presence, despite wondering whether or not his calm, tranquil disposition was in any kind related to his box's attribute. Their mutual serenity lasted ten minutes and was interrupted by Yamamoto-san who retreated back to his bedroom. A clandestine smile flitted over her lips. He had taken the (by now cold) meal with him.
She was in a good mood when she entered the kitchen and cleaned the mess she had previously left behind wasn't such a tremendous task anymore. Glancing towards the faithful clock above the door, she inferred it would be time to leave. Maybe, just maybe, he would be blithe when she visited him a second time. Deeming it proper to let him recover, Chrome sneaked slowly to his bedroom door, knocked ever so lightly and, without opening, whispered her farewell.
The door opened anyway and revealed the Rain in a new set of clothing, his trademark smirk back.
"I'm walking you to the railway station."
Her eye nearly popped out of its socket.
"N-no. Please, you have to rest... You're ill."
"It's dangerous these days," he warned.
"I can take care of myself," she offered, "Besides, it's almost noon hour. No sane person would attack me at this time of day."
"But this is not about sane people. This is about Mafia," he concluded.
"Honestly, Yamamoto-san. Really. There is no need to..."
"Of course! Strong or not. It doesn't matter. Because you," he smiled, "are a girl, after all."
The footsteps echoed in steady synchronicity. Kindergarten kids screamed in delight from a nearby building, comparing the sizes and contents of their bentos (Chrome's mouth twitched). Some elderly women were waiting by the bus stop, eagerly talking and well-neigh cradling their stuffed shopping bags. The sun was shining, mocking the season of winter with its illuminating, radiant existence. Grass, vibrant agate green and without a bead of drew, was growing on the wayside, giving the district a feel of a rural area.
It was nice.
"I hope the weather will be equally enjoyable. On Kyoko's nuptial day, that is to say."
Collecting her stray thoughts, she glanced to her side. He had been so quiet, his sudden statement had startled her.
"She deserves all the happiness of the world."
His eyes slipped shut and he nodded placidly.
"Everyone does." You too, an unspoken meaning behind his declaration.
The duo stopped in front of the station; and Chrome was insecure. What was she supposed to do? Shake his hand and mumble a friendly "See ya"? Or hug him and tell him to get well as soon as possible? Or even, dare she think, kiss him on the cheek for being something close to a friend? Her mind was racing and panic took over as the seconds passed. Admittedly, the Rain must have been oblivious to her trouble for he was currently staring into the clear, blue sky.
"Soon, it will be raining."
Rain? But today was a perfect day and the sun was shining. How could he talk about rain? She too, looked up and saw a single, white cloud drifting over the vast firmament. Sighing, his focus returned on her and he gave her a quick, awkward one-armed hug before bidding her farewell.
A sound rang in her ear, something in between "Take care" and "Pursuit your own happiness" but it was gone with the wind and she depreciated it as a delusion. And with that he dragged himself home.
As for Chrome, she arrived at her apartment exactly one hour and thirty-seven minutes later.
Evening had come and the drumming of raindrops against the windows filled her lavender-scented home. She had planned to spend the day reading but wasn't quite able to concentrate since Yamamoto-san's words repeated themselves over and over in her mind.
"Happiness," mumbled the girl while staring out of the window, "Marriage."
The sky was dark and gloomy and the equally obscure clouds were barely discernible.
"Hibari-san."
The water was practically running over the transparent surface, temperature not cold enough to turn the rain into frigid, frosty ice crystals.
"Yamamoto-san."
She rested her head against the window and exhaled, a subtle fog misted the glass with condensation.
"Mukuro-sama."
Everybody deserves happiness, she reminisced. Yamamoto-san had told her but wasn't it painfully perceptible, transparent like her window, that she took her first step towards fortune today? It had taken her about ten years and one morning to initiate contact to a fellow Guardian. So, she figured, it would probably take another ten years until she'd be able to call the swordsman her friend.
How long will it take to find love then?
"Don't worry. The right man will eventually appear one day. Or maybe he's already there without you noticing. Either way, you'll find him."
Hana-san's words.
All of the sudden, Chrome grabbed her bisque-coloured poncho (the one with the fake "Jil Sander" brand logo) and stormed out of her apartment, out of the building complex. Jumping into the next tram, she headed straight towards Namimori shrine. The vehicle halted and she stumbled out, nearly pushing an old lady into a pole and almost crashing into a stern businessman and a waiting conductor. She left the station and ran. Ran through wet streets and empty alleys.
All she did was running, until she reached the stair leading to the holy ground. Without missing a beat, she leaped over the steps, taking two at a time. Her breath came out in shallow pants when she ultimately reached her destination. Water was dripping from her nose and chin, her hair a black (on the borderline to dark purple, she praised herself) mess.
And there she was. The shrine loomed intimidating ahead of her and she looked like a dark, wet rough collie. Just. What. Exactly. Was. She. Thinking?
The illusionist cradled her face in her hands and rubbed her eye sockets until her missing eye started to ache and burn. His lilac equivalent was closed and numb. Calculating the grade of stupidity she had just presented, Chrome turned around and walked back in a much slower pace than before. The way back was considerately longer inasmuch as she refused to board a train. Nobody should see her in this pathetic state.
Everybody deserves happiness and she cursed herself for believing such a thing. Her heart, the traitor that it was, wouldn't cease its frantic throbbing either and she wanted, wanted, wanted it to stop reminding her of a life sustained by illusions.
Eye wide, she shifted her gaze upwards, settling her view on the weeping firmament.
The cold rain had drenched her clothes and the navy sky was raided with a countless number of slate grey clouds.
Basically, her mind was the same. Filled with Rain and Cloud.
He had always been very observant. It came naturally with being a carnivore, a predator. But he never would have thought of crediting Kusakabe Tetsuya with the same trait. In sooth, he had judged him as someone more dense, obtuse even. Today, the man proved him wrong.
"Observing the weather, Kyou-san?"
He regarded his subordinate with lazy eyes.
"There is nothing interesting, by all appearances, Tetsu."
Kusakabe nodded before placing the tray down, offering some tea. Hibari grabbed the valuable cup and circled his index finger around the rim.
"Yet, the weather is unpredictable. However, it seems the mist has lifted."
He left and the former prefect gaped sceptically at his retreating back.
"Mh, it seems as if the weather is not the only one being unpredictable," he deduced and took a sip.
He suppressed a yawn when he entered the office of Sawada Tsunayoshi two days later. Normally, he wouldn't even consider going but the herbivore had been somewhat pushing, deviantly energetic. Had mentioned dangerous, strong enemies. Baited the hook.
And Hibari had to confess that he was slightly interested in whatever he had to tell. If it wasn't worth his time he would bite him to death later on.
Gokudera Hayato, who had just come back from a (catastrophically) mission in Italy (together with the cow kid, probably the explanation why it had been such a failure in the first place) , was already sitting in a chair. Aforementioned kid was standing next to him, fidgeting under the stern stare from the Storm.
"Ah, Hibari-san. Thank you for coming," greeted the Vongola leader and smiled at the other Guardians in an awry routine.
"Look who has returned from Russia to the extreme!"
The smocking bomb's head snapped to the left. "Oh great, it's the obnoxious lawn head and the wicked master of pineapples."
The duo walked through the door and Rokudo Mukuro glimpsed at the Cloud with a hostile, sneering expression. His hand itched to grab the tonfa. He had learned to be civil during all those years, was able to tolerate small gatherings (tried to compare it to a pack of wolves, out for the hunt rather than the herbivorous crowding that it actually was) but he still couldn't stand the fact that he had once lost to this man.
A distinctive laughter reached his ears and he wondered what the brunette wannabe leader would say if he decorated his study with red walls.
"Ah, thanks for coming. I hope the two weeks in Russia weren't too exhausting. I'm sorry for making you come here immediately after landing."
He cleared his throat whereas the other two Guardians sat down on the couch, obviously annoyed by the small space and the existence of the person next to them. It must have been one hell of a mission.
"Okay, now that we sit together I would lik-"
"The baseball idiot's missing," Gokudera reminded and gestured towards the male illusionist, "His puppet isn't here either."
Sawada Tsunayoshi squinted his eyes, intertwined his fingers and rested his chin on the newly built bridge.
"Yeah, it appears that he's sick. In fact, had been since last week."
"What? How? Blockheads are immune to illness."
The sky ignored the brusque outburst and continued, "It's not only him. Chrome's down with the flu as well. She paid him a visit and I guess it's contagious. As far as I'm concerned, I'm still going to see them. Is anyone interested in joining me?"
Hibari glanced at the Vongola.
"They never seemed to be that close."
"Oh, I asked Chrome to check on him. But it seems like she stayed there all the morning. And Yamamoto told me that he had walked her to the station... so, his condition may have worsened afterwards."
Lambo scratched the back of his head.
"Isn't there a saying?" he mused and closed his right eye, "Something about transferring one's disease by means of a kiss?"
Boss blushed ferociously. Subsequently, the Thunder was adding insult to injury.
"But they were together for a whole morning... so, they presumedly did more than just kissing."
He winked and Tsuna was questioning himself just who the heck had reared Lambo (into such a pervert, that is). Seconds passed until his other Guardians finally understood the innuendo (Seconds? What the hell was wrong with them? Normal, healthy men wouldn't have to ponder over such statements).
The Cloud coughed in surprise; Mukuro's mouth opened and Gokudera almost dropped his cigarette.
Ryohei however:
"Hey, so... they're together now? Don't tell me they're going to marry?"
As dimwitted as ever. Tsuna questioned his own sanity why he still bothered to like him. The Sun grinned.
"That's awesome to the extreme! It's like... it stays in the family!"
The Sky shook his head and viewed his subordinates. They were supposed to discuss more important matters like the rising of the dangerous Mareggiata famiglia. Not the sex life of their acquaintances.
He felt like calling Reborn. Someone was literally screaming for an intense training session with a lot of assured arse kicking.
Chrome was sleeping in her bed, dreams full of grey ever since Mukuro-sama had taken the colours, the endless fields of green and the aquamarine sky away.
There was a loud knock on her door and she wasn't sure if it had been part of her dream until the annoying sound turned into a staccato. She gritted her teeth and threw the blankets away, sight blurry and legs wobbly. Said unsteady limbs were carrying her towards the door. By the time she arrived, sweat was covering her forehead and her breathing was heavy. She opened the door. And wanted to close it.
Hibari-san stared at her with an incredulous look.
There were many stories about how women were able to maintain their beauty even in the throes of disease, death. How their eyes still held a special spark or how their dishevelled hair looked quite sexy.
However, Chrome Dokuro did not.
She was paler than ever before, nose red and bags under her feverish eye. There was no such a thing as "beautiful", "pretty" or even "acceptable" flashing through his mind. Perhaps he would have felt something akin to pity but he wasn't precisely sure he did know its meaning.
"Sawada Tsunayoshi made me come again. I brought you the folder about the newest enemy," he stated composed.
And she was so troubled to see him. Because unlike the other day, she was exceedingly aware of her looks and her current appearance reflected just how she felt at the moment. Not to mention that they hadn't spoken a word since... the incident.
"Fhank you," answered her hoarse, nasal voice (was it really her voice, she questioned), while gripping the upper corner of the object and simultaneously trying to slam the door shut.
Nevertheless, his hand was faster and he prevented her from accomplishing her little scheme. For someone who told her that he would dislike the mere thought about coming to her place a second time, he was very persistent.
"I saw you the other day."
Chrome sniffled.
"Gwen?"
His eyes scrutinized her. A pathetic, weak herbivore succumbing to illness. And yet he was entertained by her. Somewhat. Maybe because Rokudo Mukuro had once seen something more.
"Two days ago."
Oh, Hibari-san had seen her? This was highly unexpected and, additionally, highly troublesome.
"Oh... fhat," she finished lamely. She leaned against her door frame to avert falling.
"I gwas going to ask you somefhing. I gnanged my mind, fhough."
"I see."
He turned around, ready to leave but she stumbled out of her apartment and he turned around to look at her.
"Don't you gwant to knogw gwhat I gwanted to ask you?"
A smirk graced his features.
"I think I heard enough from you," he supplied, evidently mocking her sore vocal folds. Pacing towards the stairs in a moderate speed and hands resting casually in his pockets, he was about to take the first step downwards.
Notwithstanding, he paused when her voice called out for him.
"Gwait, please!"
Chrome approached him with staggering steps, barefoot on top of that. His back was still facing her.
"Does... does Hibari-san beliefhe in lofhe?"
It was so difficult to take her serious with a voice of this type.
"No."
"Gwhy?
He tilted his head to the side, eyes filled with annoyance and mouth set in a straight line. His answer was sharp, barbed like a hook and cutting like a knife. Like a knife cutting through her heart (as if it was mere paper).
"Love is for weaklings and herbivores."
Hibari-san proceeded in his descending and Chrome watched him leave (again, her brain reminded). She didn't know when or how she got back into her bed. Gaze fixed on the ceiling, tears were threatening to spill and she was wondering why. His answer hadn't been surprising and she was not in love with him... Couldn't be in love with him.
Simply because love meant happiness (according to Bianchi-san). So, Yamamoto-san had been wrong all along.
Because happiness was something she never deserved.
Truth was, she simply wasn't supposed to fall for someone. Or have someone falling for her...
Her bed was empty and the bond to Mukuro didn't exist anymore.
Especially that night, Chrome felt alone.
Reviews and constructive criticism are appreciated.