Windshear
Part 8/?
Authors: Kagaya Chou and The Dream Whisperer
Characters/Pairings: All the Vongola Guardians, Reborn, and Tsuna. Byakuran/Mukuro, eventual Yamamoto/Hibari.
Rating: PG-13
Words: 4544
Summary: As Hibari slept, the Vongola prepared for a visit to Rome. Gokudera does not resist opening a can of worms on Yamamoto.
"All of us?! That flower wants all the Guardians in Rome?!" Ryohei slammed his fist against the table. Hibari was in a coma! "Oh, I'll give him my ring, all right," he growled, "when I crack open a can of woop-ass on his face and bury my knuckles in it to the limit!"
"Guys, just-"
"You're saving some for me, lawn-head!" The explosives were already between Gokudera's fingers, his temper sparked like a lit fuse. "I'll stuff that fucker like a turkey-"
"Just stop- I said stop!"
Tsuna, tears welling up in his eyes, held his hands over his ringing ears until everyone shut up at last. "Declaring war on the Gesso won't save Hibari-san," he finally said. "So please..."
As Gokudera fell silent, Tsuna turned to Ryohei. Lambo, bit his lip, looking between them. Gokudera and Ryohei were always so loud. But honestly, he didn't blame them - if he had been the type to shout and throw a fit, he would have done the same.
Instead, he could only feel helplessness welling up in his chest. Like everyone else, he didn't want Hibari to die - the man was scary, but he had protected Lambo and I-pin whenever he could, and let them run around in his garden as long as they didn't give him any trouble. And well, Hibari was part of Lambo's family, so of course the boy wanted to help as much as he could.
He looked at Reborn, thinking of that file the older man had presented him earlier, outlining an 'unofficial mission,' which looked like it had been tailored for someone else. Lambo had a sneaking suspicion that he knew whose mission it used to be, but that person was...
Lambo sighed, reaching out to place a hand on Gokudera's shoulder. "Vongola's right, Gokudera-nii," he only used that name when he really needed the Storm Guardian to listen. "If we just go after him, I don't think we'll ever be able to find the cure."
Reborn shot Lambo a rather surprised look which went unnoticed. That... was precisely what he was going to say. Perhaps the stupid cow wasn't quite so hopeless, after all.
He crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall, silently watching his students deal with this crisis.
"Lambo-kun is right," Chrome said softly. "From what Mukuro-sama had told me, I don't doubt that Byakuran had probably hidden the cure in a place that only he knows of. Even if we declare war on the Gesso... we won't have the time to find it."
"But..." Gokudera looked at them all, his hands almost shaking as he fought for restraint once more. "Tenth, I'm sorry for the outburst!" Sticks of dynamite slid fluidly back in to wherever he pulled them from before he stuffed his hands deep in the pockets of his pants. "But we can't let that crazy bastard get away with this," he grit out, turning his angry gaze downwards.
Images of white flowers and the younger Tenth's scared, innocent face flashed through his mind. Gokudera thought of the open casket, of Tsuna sitting up in it, confused as to why he was there after being shot with Lambo's bazooka, and that desperate war they fought against the Millifore ten years ago. The very thought that history might repeat itself like that...
"What does that guy want with all of us there this time then," Ryohei cut in, "if not for an extreme battle for ultimate power?!" He couldn't even believe his ears when Tsuna showed them the video conference. Especially the bit about Byakuran not wanting the Vongola Tenth dead.
...It's no good, Tsuna thought. He didn't know how to respond. For all his training, for all their anger and past efforts, he didn't know what to do except to just wait for Byakuran to state his terms, and then respond. He opened his mouth, "I don't-"
Reborn had already started walking over before Tsuna could finish making a statement of hopelessness, and slapped him upside the head. Lambo winced. Reborn was as mean as ever, even towards Tsuna, he thought. Or rather, especially towards Tsuna, because his eyes were cold as flint now, arms folding across his chest.
"Stupid student," Reborn said flatly. "Don't ever say you don't know what to do - you're the boss."
Then, he exhaled - not quite a sigh - and pulled his hat down to cover his eyes. "Believe it or not, I don't think Byakuran wants to kill us. Not now, anyway," his voice was dry. "During the conference, he mentioned the Sky ring and this," he tapped on the yellow Arcobaleno pacifier hanging over his chest. "I believe that what he's looking for right now is the Ultimate Power, like he was in ten years ago's ten years later."
Ah, time paradoxes, Reborn thought, only half-fond. It made language so convoluted.
"Regardless of your lives, he wants all of you there for your Vongola rings - that's what I believe he'll ask for. However," he tilted his head up, glaring at all the guardians. "Under no circumstances can we give them to him. Not even at the cost of Hibari's life."
Silence.
Before the door was flung open.
And the man who stood in the doorway, with eyes sharp as knives and long limbs drawn tense, was the Vongola Rain Guardian, who was scowling at Reborn, completely incensed.
"Y-Yamamoto," Tsuna gasped and stumbled from the table, instinctively putting himself between the two. Despite the fact that the back of his head was still ringing from his tutor's slap, the anger in his friend was practically palpable, like rushing, rippling waves.
Gokudera was in front of Tsuna in an instant however.
"Oi, baseball idiot," he thought quickly, pushing the Tenth back. "How is he? Hibari-"
"Hibari's dying," Yamamoto spat out, glaring daggers at Reborn. "He's comatose. He is not going anywhere."
Well, Reborn thought to himself, a smirk curving his lips slightly, that was certainly a dramatic entrance. Despite their age, they still felt like children to him, to be so easily affected by mere words. But he supposed that the will to protect each one another was what made them so extraordinarily strong.
And yet they were still so foolish.
Gently pushing both Tsuna and Gokudera aside, Reborn stepped in front of them to face Yamamoto, meeting the glare straight on, his posture relaxed, hands unclenched. Even if Yamamoto had the Shigure Kintoki drawn, Reborn would not have felt intimidated. He eyed the young man, coldly amused.
"What makes you think you are in any position to demand that Hibari stays put, Yamamoto? Let me give you the alternatives: one, we do not go to Rome, and wait here quietly for Hibari to die; two, we wage war on the Gesso, and Hibari dies because we can't win and find the cure within two weeks; or three, we let Tsuna go alone and have history repeat itself, but this time Hibari dies as well."
He took a step forward. "I remember several occasions in which the chances of success were less than one percent, and yet we had overcome it and triumphed. The odds are still against us this time, because Byakuran is holding quite the wild card, but - you aren't so stupid - you should know that already."
He let out a breath. "Raging against me will do nothing. It will not stop Hibari from dying. For that to happen, we have to take that first step and listen to Byakuran's demands." He ran a hand through his hair.
"It's called looking for alternatives before you leap, foolish students. Not charging in and hoping you don't run off a cliff."
For a tense, silent moment, there was a war waging in Yamamoto's eyes, and everyone in the room seemed to be holding onto a collective breath.
It was so rare of him, outside of baseball, outside of a serious fight, to be in a spectacle without a smile on his face or a sparkle in his normally bright eyes.
But the bags under those brown eyes told them all that he hadn't been sleeping well since Hibari's sudden collapse. Truth be told, none of them slept well, but the Rain Guardian had barely left the Cloud Guardian's side. He ate in the hospital wing. He dozed lightly. Frankly, it was a good thing that Reborn had pulled Yamamoto from his missions. No matter how good of a hitman he might be, he couldn't shut everything off right now.
Gradually, the hard scowl on his face wavered, revealing fatigue and faint traces of depression underneath.
"Byakuran's demanding that we all go to Rome, but we can't do that... Hibari is in no condition to move, or to be moved," Yamamoto reiterated, eyebrows creased. "... Right?"
"Wrong." Reborn shook his head immediately. "It is possible - we have a couple of helicopters fully equipped with medical equipment, the same stuff that we have in the medical wing, even. We have a sub-base in Rome that we can stay in. Moving him isn't a problem."
Chrome's eyes suddenly snapped wide open, and she stepped forward. "Everyone," she spoke, nearly cutting Reborn short. "We have to be very careful in Rome. Mukuro-sama... says that Byakuran had found three out of the seven Mare rings. Including..."
A breath. Her grip tightened around the trident. "Including the Mare Ring of the Sky."
"Heeeee~" Tsuna gasped, "He can't! The Giglionero-" He looked at the ceiling abruptly, lamenting the fact that they hadn't done enough, that they definitely missed something at this rate, but breathe. Breathe.
Ten years ago, when they'd all finally return home, to their own present, he sought out Irie Shouichi, not to kill him, but to become friends. The guy had a brilliant mind, an idealistic vision, and Tsuna wanted to understand him better - and make sure that they wouldn't set off the chain of events that led to the formation of Millefiore.
For the most part, they were successful. Reborn even sent Mukuro to Byakuran when the man gained control of the Gesso family, to keep an eye on him, and from what Tsuna could tell... Mukuro rather liked the Byakuran of this time...
How he got his hands on those rings are the least of our problems, Tsuna reminded himself, then reasoned out loud.
"Yamamoto has a point. If he just wants our rings, he doesn't need all of us to be there... It'd be dangerous to move Hibari-san now. It's a miracle that he's still..." He trailed off. The doctors estimated that Hibari only had about two more weeks if he was not cured.
Tsuna blinked suddenly. "But if we're all there, and Byakuran gives us the cure," he looked at Yamamoto earnestly, half-pleading, "then we can give Hibari-san the cure immediately!"
"And if we have to beat it out of him, so be it!" Gokudera pumped a fist in the air with characteristic bravado as he continued, "We need to bring Hibari with us."
He glanced back at Yamamoto, and looked away, adding, "For Hibari's sake. Not for that fucking flower."
Ryohei stood up, "I'm with you on this one, octopus-head! Sawada!"
Lambo looked at Yamamoto shyly from behind his messy hair, smiling nervously. "Vongola is right, Yamamoto-shi." He tugged on a lock of hair, "Well, um... We don't know what Byakuran would make us do, and he might make us wait. It'll be better if Hibari-san is transferred, so he can... get cured as soon as possible."
Chrome's eyes were hooded when she spoke. "Yamamoto-san... We all care for Hibari-san here. We won't let him come to harm." She gave him a small smile. "Don't worry about that."
Yamamoto stared at them, into each of their open faces. In the shadows, Reborn said nothing, hiding behind his fedora and his smile. Yamamoto opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Instead, silent breath forced its way out. The corners of his lips twitched.
"Haha... Looks like I was being silly... Everything will work out one way or other. It always does, doesn't it?" It didn't take hyper intuition to see that he was trying to pull a smile on his face.
It looked painful.
***
Afterwards, Tsuna dismissed them, telling them to pack and prepare; they were heading to Rome at dawn. Gokudera packed easily. He practically lived out of one suitcase or other anyway, given how often he travelled due to his missions.
He headed for the medical wing right after he finished, knowing that he would find that baseball- no, lovesick idiot there.
As expected, Yamamoto was leaning against the doorframe, watching the doctors prepare to move Hibari. It was such a strange sight. Yamamoto didn't acknowledge him when he leaned against the other door, and Hibari... Gokudera had never seen the Cloud Guardian look so utterly still - even when in meditation, Hibari always had that certain air of anticipation and power around him. But now... now he simply looked like a pale doll.
Sighing, Gokudera turned to Yamamoto. "Oy, have you packed yet?"
A second later, Yamamoto tilted his head, and turned to look at him. "Oh. Hey, Gokudera." He looked back towards the doctors. The small, sheepish smile on his face said he'd more or less calmed down. "What are you doing here?"
Gokudera growled softly under his breath, rubbing his hand through his hair as he gave Yamamoto one of his soon-to-be-patented are you so stupid stare. He sighed. "I asked you if you packed. We are going to Rome tomorrow, you know."
"I know, I know," Yamamoto simply replied. "I just want to see what needs to be prepared. Just in case..." His laughter was hollow. It felt like the medics were making so much noise. If Hibari was all right, he would have pulled out his tonfas and intimidated them into silence, Yamamoto thought.
Gokudera rolled his eyes, huffing impatiently. He stepped forward and punched Yamamoto lightly on the shoulder. "Do you think you're a doctor or something? Idiot. They can do their job perfectly well - the Tenth won't accept anything but the best for Hibari, you know that." He pulled at his arm, "So stop being stupid and go pack your bags already."
"Ahaha," that laugh was better. "You sound like somebody's grandmother." He dragged his feet a little, glancing back until Gokudera pulled him out into the corridor.
Immediately, Gokudera glared at him for the almost insult, irritated. Yamamoto wasn't even doing it deliberately - smashing all of Gokudera's buttons just seemed to be one of his many natural talents...
Gokudera crossed his arms, still walking towards their rooms. "I'm trying to help you, baseball idiot," he grumbled. "If I hadn't come along you would stare there until the Tenth tells us that we have to go, and you wouldn't have packed at all."
Yamamoto didn't argue the point. He never argued the point, and he always, always laughed.
Well, almost always.
He smiled though. "Thank you, Gokudera. i don't really have a lot to pack though," he continued. "It's just for a weekend holiday, isn't it?"
Gokudera snorted, looking up as they reached Yamamoto's room, to the left of Tsuna's. He leaned against the wall, crossing his arms. "Hopefully," he said, sounding frustrated and just slightly apprehensive. "We have no idea what Byakuran is going to do, after all."
The mention of Byakuran made Yamamoto's smile fall flat. He kept his gaze straight, not quite seeing anything. "I'm going to pack," he finally stated. "You're done, right? Do you want to train when I'm done?"
The other man watched him for a while before heaving a deep, long-suffering sigh. "Oi, Yamamoto," he looked up and caught Yamamoto's eyes with his own green ones. "No one is going to blame you if you stop smiling for a while, you know? You don't have to force it if you don't feel it."
He pushed himself away from the wall, turning away and shoving his hands into his pocket. "I'll wait for you in the third training room."
"... Sure. I'll see you there."
As Gokudera walked off, Yamamoto's face turned expressionless. He took a step back, half-turned, and made for his own room with a silent sigh. No one would blame him for not smiling. He knew that. And it seemed that even Hibari preferred it when he wasn't smiling either.
Yamamoto pressed a hand against the closet door. After a moment of failing to open it, he thumped his forehead against the wood.
***
Gokudera tossed an unlit dynamite in his hand as he leaned against the wall of the training room wall. Normally he would have been smoking - in fact, his fingers ached to hold on to his cigarette, and his lungs craved for the poison - but the sight of Hibari nearly literally coughing his lungs out disquieted him enough to try to stop. At least for the moment.
Yamamoto was taking a really long time. Gokudera frowned, a hand dropped down onto his thigh and tapping on it. If he had to wait any longer, he was going to start chewing on the fuse of this dynamite.
It shouldn't have taken Yamamoto too long to pack. He didn't wear as many accessories as Gokudera himself on a regular basis, and usually kept all his equipment in one place, all clean and neat - which had no correlation to his laundry whatsoever.
When Yamamoto was done, he'd stared listlessly at his suitcase for a few minutes, then picked up the phone. He wanted to hear his father's voice, but no one picked up.
After his third try, Yamamoto sat down to write the guy an email. His old man checked his digital inbox about... oh, say two or three times in a month, but Yamamoto wanted to tell him what had been going on where they were going, what was going on and what he thought.
He felt... so lost.
And he knew he wasn't the only one. He ended the missive with a smiling emoticon, as wont, and then deleted it before taking a spare training sword downstairs.
Stepping inside the third training room, Yamamoto smiled habitually when he saw his grumpy friend, and, "Yo," waved from the door. After that, he wasn't even sure whether he was smiling or frowning, but he was definitely feeling more self conscious than he preferred.
Gokudera looked up at the approaching footsteps, scowling rather fiercely. For once, it was not because of Yamamoto- not entirely, anyway. He tugged at the ends of his hair, frustrated beyond belief by the entire situation.
Well, at least he was at the training room already. He could throw dynamite at Yamamoto and try to blow him up. Not that he didn't already do that on a semi-regular basis, but at least now he had a legitimate reason, which meant that Tsuna wouldn't get mad.
"Oi, baseball idiot," he called over. "Stop smiling like you've just been force-fed my sister's cooking." He sighed, stepping forward, "Do you want to switch on the simulations?"
"... I'm trying not to," Yamamoto answered sheepishly. But smiling was so easy for him, but now he couldn't even managed that. He lifted a hand and rubbed his jaw. "And sure," he shrugged. "Why not?"
Yamamoto pulled a plain wooden sword out of the bag, and-
Gokudera spotted it before Yamamoto could say a word. And scowled, hard, his hands clenching into fists on his hips. "Are you taking me seriously?" he pointed at the bokken, an utterly insulted look on his face. "Go get your katana, idiot."
"Huh?" Yamamoto looked back at him, mind blank. "Who's underestimating you?" But of course, there was no one else in the room. He just... never quite understood what it was about the two of them and this pattern they established and maintained over the years.
I breathe, and it sets him off, he thought wryly.
Gokudera pointed at the wooden bokken, his finger shaking slightly. "Do you really think that you can lay a hand on me?" His voice came out as barely more than a growl. "Look, Yamamoto, if you want to train properly then use the equipment you use in battle."
He waved the dynamite in his hand around. "Look, you don't see me using fake shit with you, right?"
"Aha-" Yamamoto cut off the laugh so often just used to defuse a situation. "That's because most of the time you are trying to do damage to me, Gokudera." He gripped the sword through the bag, but made no move to take it out or retract his actions. "I want to kill him," came a whisper that sounded almost alien to his ears.
Gokudera's eyes widened, and he almost took a step back at the feral look in Yamamoto's eyes. It was during moments like this that he could not doubt Reborn's words - that Yamamoto was a natural born hitman. The taller man's hand was white around his sword, his bones standing out starkly, and Gokudera, for a moment, feared him.
Feared for him.
Because Yamamoto had obviously gotten himself way over his head with this, and it looked like he hadn't even noticed it. Gokudera scowled fiercely, running a hand through his hair and tugging at the ends.
"I've never-" Gokudera cut him off before he could continue.
"Everyone of us want to, Yamamoto. Chill out - you'll get your chance, sooner or later." He eyed him for another long moment before commenting thoughtfully, "I don't think I've ever seen you this mad before."
Yamamoto blinked, eyes widening at the realization. He forced his grip to relax and rolled his shoulders, shifting from one foot to the other. "It's all fun and games until," he closed his eyes and swallowed thickly. Hell, he didn't really want to think about it, but then the image of Hibari, pale, blood-speckled and barely breathing through tubes, would come back of its own accord. He shook his head. Amber eyes sought for green. Yamamoto took a deep breath, and then another.
"I don't doubt your abilities, Gokudera. I trust you... I just don't trust myself right now."
"It's never a game, Yamamoto," Gokudera replied seriously, all signs of anger gone. How could he remain frustrated at such a little thing in the face of Yamamoto's fury? He sighed, shaking his head, "I've been trying to tell you that since middle school."
Stepping forward, he wrapped his hand carefully around Yamamoto's wrist, his other hand slowly prying the taller man's fingers away from his sword. He was pretty sure that if Yamamoto had clutched onto the thing for any longer, it would start to splinter. He closed his eyes, heaving a long-suffering sigh. "And I get it now, idiot..."
Frowning slightly, Gokudera looked upwards into Yamamoto's eyes. When he spoke again, his tone was dry, "Though, of all the people you could have fallen for, you just have to choose Hibari, wouldn't you?"
After a long, pregnant pause, Yamamoto's hand went slack in his. It took a bit longer for the man's mind formulated an intelligent reply, too.
"... Ah?"
The intelligent reply didn't quite make it out of his mouth though.
The sword, along with the bag, started sliding down. "Ah!" He caught his gear as Gokudera's words echoed in his head. "I... choose- chose- No, what? Me? Hibari? Gokudera!
"There's nothing like that between Hibari and I!" And that sorry look in Gokudera's eyes; was that guy pitying him?
There was a long moment of complete silence as Gokudera contemplated between laughing his head off and smacking Yamamoto. He blinked, lips twitching.
Was the idiot serious? Did he not even notice?!
There was a completely shocked expression on the Rain Guardian's face.
Apparently not.
Taking a few steps back until he was leaning against the wall, Gokudera threw his head back and chuckled, shoulders shaking with mirth. He remained like this for a few moments, scrabbling for control over himself through the haze of amusement. Honestly, this was just too rich.
And there were too little things to really laugh about at the moment.
He shook his head, a few last guffaws escaping his lips before he tilted his head back to look at Yamamoto, smirking. "There's nothing like that between the two of you... yet. Look, Yamamoto, it's obvious as hell to me that you've fallen for him. We're all worried about Hibari, yet only you loiter around the medical wing for the past two days. God knows if you slept much, but it looks like you haven't. And one of the doctors saw you hold Hibari's hand, practically praying.
"Plus, you want to protect him - I still remember that." He ran a hand through his hair, still decidedly amused, "You're in so deep that you don't even notice it."
Yamamoto didn't move for a while, just blinking at Gokudera as though the guy had suddenly said something horrible about his precious Tenth.
But as he turned the words over and over in his head, he couldn't seem to find anything to contradict the smirking man.
"I've... fallen for Hibari..."
Saying it out loud just emphasized the point, as if setting it into stone.
"Heh." He looked down. His shoulders shook as he quietly chuckled. "That's funny," Yamamoto said mirthlessly. "Hibari could die in two weeks... This is... This is funny."
Gokudera's scowl returned with a vengeance. He took two steps forward, reaching up and whacked Yamamoto on the temple, hard. "Oi, you stupid baseball freak. Don't tell me that you're giving up before we even do anything, huh?"
He crossed his arms, giving the taller man a dark glare.
Yamamoto tilted his head up automatically and his eyes were wide, pupils dilated until his eyes looked almost black. He met those demanding green eyes for an instant, and then looked to the side. "Of course not," he whispered. "We... we have to get the cure.
"But the rest is up to Hibari."
Gokudera snorted, "That guy won't give up so easily. Hell, I won't be surprised if he can wake up right now and kick that bastard Byakuran's ass." As much as he hated to admit it, not even his pride would let him not admit Hibari's skill and strength of will.
"So stop looking like the world's ending already." He tugged on a sleeve, looking away, embarrassed.
Yamamoto couldn't help it. Despite the odds, Gokudera's rather typical brand of tough love was reassuring. Sheepishly, Yamamoto grinned, peering at the man who became his best friend. How difficult it must be for Gokudera to say something so close to a compliment and give him a... a pep talk?
Reaching out with his freehand, Yamamoto slung an arm around Gokudera's shoulders and tugged the guy close. "Thanks," he sighed, resting his chin momentarily upon the shorter man's head.
Gokudera punched him on the shoulder to get him away, a light pink dusting his cheeks at the obvious gratitude. "You're welcome, baseball idiot," he replied gruffly, not looking at Yamamoto.
He pulled away, turning his back to the taller man. "Are we going to train or not?"
Yamamoto's laughter sounded more natural. "Yeah..." A change of tone, a change of stance. "Let's get started."
TBC
GUYS. I adore your reviews. Kaga and I read them and squee over them every time you do. So thank you so much for them!
About updates... I update this every Monday or, at the very, very latest, on Tuesday if I'm busy. I keep to a very strict schedule. So don't worry. We WILL update and won't leave you hanging.
Also, yes. This is the first time ever that I've left an author's note. I'll just... disappear again now.