Windshear
Part 10/?
Authors: Kagaya Chou and The Dream Whisperer
Characters/Pairings: All the Vongola Guardians, Reborn, and Byakuran. Byakuran/Mukuro, eventual Yamamoto/Hibari.
Rating: PG-13
Words: 6405
Summary: Reborn was sure now: when it came to feelings, Yamamoto was an incredible masochist, and Hibari was so dense it had to be seen to be believed. Tsuna didn't know the half of it, but at least they were motivated... to fight.
Hibari leaned against the wall of one of the base's training rooms, eyes closed and shoulders slumped slightly. He didn't let go of his tonfas. Quite the contrary, his fingers tightened around them as he locked his knees, refusing the urge to fall to the ground as a fresh wave of pain took his breath away.
His fight with Byakuran was in two days, and he absolutely refused to lose.
Reborn may have been fine watching the Cloud Guardian train from his eye in the sky and whatnot, hidden cameras all around the base, but Yamamoto didn't have that luxury. Even if he did, he wouldn't have been able to deal with simply waiting in the stands while Hibari fought off mere simulations while training for a very real threat.
That was why Reborn was not at all surprised when Yamamoto entered the training room. The Rain guardian was dressed for kendo practice, and the sword at his hip - ah, Gokudera got through to him - was the Shigure Kintoki.
Hibari opened his eyes when he heard the door open, his tonfas rising into a defensive pose instinctively. Fighting had been bred strongly enough into his blood that he had no need to think about it anymore. When he spotted Yamamoto at the door, dressed for training with that curious sword at his side, Hibari's lips curved up into a miniscule smile.
"Are you here to be beaten, Yamamoto Takeshi?"
"Ahahaha," Yamamoto smile back at first. He shrugged. As he walked closer, he managed to school his expression into one of calm. Giving Hibari a standing bow, he then unsheathed his sword, and assumed the sonkyo position - a squatting posture of respect - holding the Shigure Kintoki in centre guard.
"I promised you a fight, Hibari." Yamamoto stood then and took one step forward. "Shall we?"
Hibari pushed himself from the wall and straightened himself, holding his tonfas stiff at his side. He stepped forward and inclining his head, returning the respect. He bent his knees and raised his tonfas into his standard offensive position, his smirk widening into a predatory smile.
"Hajime," he intoned; start. And struck.
Yamamoto parried one tonfa to the left and quickly sidestepped, using the back of his sword to block the other tonfa quickly coming at his right. As he suspected, Hibari was going to keep him at the defensive for quite some time. That's good. 'Just'focusing on not getting hit would allow him to warm up first.
Hibari felt a bubble of satisfaction grow in his chest as he pivoted on his ankle, this time aiming for Yamamoto's ribs and neck. The taller man was not holding back, giving his all in a proper fight and Hibari could feel the excitement growing as he parried a strike and returned one of his own.
So this was the real skill of the baby's 'natural born hitman', huh? Hibari's eyes sharpened as he danced backwards a few steps, out of the reach of that katana. But still, he could sense something holding the man back...
"Is that all you've got, Yamamoto Takeshi?"
The swordsman ducked back in time, the strike towards his chest missing by an inch. The side of his sword took the brunt of an oncoming head blow. It was steady footwork and the resilience of his sword that allowed him to channel the shock down to the ground and to keep moving fluidly at the same time.
"Nah, I'm just warming up," Yamamoto replied with an utterly boyish grin.
He was careful though, when he attacked, flipping the hilt in mid swing when it looked like he really would slice something more than fabric.
When Yamamoto's sword turned in the opposite direction of his swing, Hibari's eyes narrowed. He dodged the sword with ease and switched the grip of the tonfa on his right hand, turning around and stepping in. Smacking Yamamoto upwards from the chin, his lips twisted into an unpleasant smile when it hit.
"I suggest that you take me seriously," Hibari intoned.
All he got for a reply was a low hiss as Yamamoto slid back, putting some distance between them and feeling like his jaw just got unhinged.
It was only starting to bruise and go numb, Yamamoto told himself. What was a little pain anyway?
"... Thanks."
Hibari lifted a slim eyebrow. Only Yamamoto would thank him after he was just beaten - was the man really stupid, or was he simply a masochist? Hibari shook the thought from his head - it didn't matter, either way. He took a step forward, and ignited his ring. Violet flames sparked, and burst, running down the metal tonfas until the silver wasn't visible anymore. Through the pure, flickering flame, Hibari smirked.
"O-okay..." Yamamoto gave a breathless laugh as he jumped out of the way again. He was a close combat fighter, and here he was trying to get out of Hibari's way. He tried not to look too amused. What would his father say if he saw him now?
'Our fighting style is perfect, Takeshi. Flawless. invincible.'
Yeah, so in other words, it's all my fault if I lose and dishonour the family, or something.
There was a flare of blue flame at that thought. Even under the training room's lighting, Yamamoto's sword seemed to glow neon.
Warming up was one thing, but actually attacking Hibari was hard. It wasn't that he couldn't get a hit in... Hibari was stronger than anyone, the absolute strongest, but he was still fallible and Yamamoto didn't particularly need any extra proof of that!
Besides, it wouldn't be too dishonourable losing to the strongest, right? Yamamoto tried to let himself flow, like water, into the fight.
For Hibari though, it seemed easy; Hibari danced.
There was no other way to describe it - the swift steps, the snapping blows, the parries and the blocks as he balanced on the balls of his feet, twisting his body as he searched for openings in Yamamoto's defences and covered his own. He ducked, avoiding the swing of the Shigure Souen Style's fifth form, the Samidare, and the tails of his suit flared out behind him, creating the illusions of wings.
Yamamoto floundered slightly, a flicker of relief in his eyes. Hibari seemed fine, completely in his element. He moved like a dark cloud riding on swift winds, carrying the promise of a cruel, blinding tempest.
He bent his knees slightly, stepping on Yamamoto's sword on a downward slash. Curling his body inwards, he spun and rolled until he was behind the taller man, the cold of his tonfa suddenly against Yamamoto's throat and back.
"Your swings are too wide."
And the blue flame flickered out of existence too easily, its owner having prepared beforehand to accept a loss.
Yamamoto lowered his blade, letting it revert to its 'practice sword' state, and straightened to avoid the violet flame.
"That was awesome..." He grinned at Hibari. "As expected with you..."
Hibari narrowed his eyes, the tonfa digging into Yamamoto's throat a little more. "Are you giving up already, herbivore?"
How disappointing.
"... So you've decided I'm an herbivore now?" Yamamoto ducked aside with annoyingly casual ease, his tone mildly teasing. "Haha, what happened to wolf in sheep's clothing?"
Hibari's anger grew another notch, and he stepped forward, practically exuding menace. "You have worn that sheepskin so much that you have become one of them," he stated, half contemplative and half disdainful. "You waste my time by holding back and treating this as a game."
His lips twisted into a dark smirk, and purple flames licked against the cloth of Yamamoto's chest, above his head. "I don't play games, Yamamoto Takeshi."
The swordsman's expression sobered, and he grew quiet. He stared at Hibari, glanced down at the still-heated weapon, and smirked wryly when he looked back into his eyes.
"... If you were taking the fight completely seriously, wouldn't I have ended up with my spine broken in two places?"
Hibari shook his head minutely. "I do not fight half-heartedly. It is simply that it is a waste of..." he tilted his head to the side slightly, smirking, "resources if I kill worthy sparring partners." Something told Yamamoto that it wasn't a compliment. "There are none stronger - if I kill all who are weaker, I would grow bored quickly."
His tone turned frosty. "But given your refusal to take me seriously, I wonder if you were trying, or if you are even worth fighting at all."
"I... " Yamamoto paused, remembering how Gokudera practically blew up when he told the guy he didn't want to hurt him. He chuckled, continuing beneath his breath. "Well, I don't want to... bore you, Hibari..." It wasn't what he meant to say; it didn't come out sounding natural at all.
"You bore me plenty, like this," Hibari said tonelessly, stepping backwards and letting his hands fall to his sides. There was a slow boiling fury in his eyes as he grabbed Yamamoto by the collar, pulling him to the side and slamming him against the wall. He smiled, and wrapped his hand loosely around the taller man's throat.
"I didn't think you were such a fool as to underestimate me, Yamamoto Takeshi," he said, almost conversationally.
"... I'm being realistic," Yamamoto replied casually, or rather, as casually as the ringing at the back of his head and the hand tightening at his throat allowed.
But Hibari's skin, with his eyes like shining obsidian, looked far too pale in comparison. And his wrist - Yamamoto's fingers slipped around it, clutched it and could he break it? That wrist felt so small and thin.
"Hibari, I could..." hurt you. I don't want to hurt you.
Hibari pulled his wrist out of Yamamoto's grip, but not quickly enough for the other man to feel the slight tremble that ran down his body. He closed his eyes and pulled away, suddenly feeling far too tired to continue this farce of a 'spar', especially when Yamamoto couldn't seem to fight him properly due to his weak- his illness.
Hibari had no interest in fighting sheep, no matter their hidden strengths.
Without regard for the rest of Yamamoto's words, he turned around and started to walk away. His hands were starting to feel numb anyway...
But he managed to take three steps before his chest seized up and his legs lost all feeling, making him lose all his grace. He stumbled over his own feet, and his hands flew to his mouth, covering it as another coughing fit possessed him.
"Hibari!"
Sword at last dropped and promptly forgotten, Yamamoto pushed himself from the wall without thinking. He wrapped his arms around Hibari's torso automatically, protectively. Momentum made him stumble, but he manoeuvred them so that he could touch the ground first, thus cushioning Hibari's fall.
Hibari barely noted all that. He tried to struggle against the arms around him, but it was futile and soon, he was distracted by the sheer, undeniable need to attempt to hack up a lung. He closed his eyes, letting his body drop backwards to lean against the source of steady warmth at his back. Blood-spotted hands dropped from his mouth as he turned his head, pressing his clammy forehead against that warmth, a hand fisting around cloth while the other clenched tightly on the floor.
It was a struggle to breathe.
Yamamoto held on tight, tucking Hibari into his arms as if proximity could make the disease leave that small, wracked frame and move into a healthier, more challenging target. He didn't really know what to do, his first instincts being to pick Hibari up and rush him to his doctors.
But what good would that really do? Panic was starting to creep in.
"Don't die. Don't die..."
"Shut up," Hibari managed to rasp out in the middle of the coughs. He could recognize Yamamoto's voice even in this state, and it annoyed him, the unidentifiable emotions he could hear in them. Part of him - the still-lucid, reasonable part - wondered why Yamamoto seemed to care so much, but he had other pressing concerns and the matter was pushed out of his mind to make way to keeping his lungs inside his body.
The metallic taste of his own blood was unpleasant, which was contradictory, given how much he liked the taste of others'. But having his own blood in his mouth meant a sign of weakness; that someone had managed to wound him enough to bleed, and Hibari detested weakness.
Slowly, the coughs started to subside. With his eyes still closed, Hibari, eyes still closed, barked out, "Help me up."
Guilty silence came from Yamamoto, who had halted those negative words as soon as Hibari alerted him of them. He swallowed thickly, and nodded, pushing himself up off the ground to one knee first, and straightening up, his arms wrapped securely around Hibari to help him up steadily.
Yamamoto looked at him with wet eyes and dry cheeks, and stared at the blood between them. He opened his mouth - Help you up? Of course I'll help - you never ask for help, wait - but Yamamoto's throat closed up.
Hibari found his feet easily, but they refused to take his full weight when he tried to stand. He stumbled again, and the floor seemed to come up to swallow him once more, but he held out and forced his feet down and barely, finally, they held him up. Bitterly, he thought that his fight with Yamamoto took less effort.
He was tired, exhaustion running along every vein and hidden in every breath. Briefly, he wanted to just close his eyes and let the darkness take him, but he hated losing so much more than he hated the pain. No matter what it took, he refused to lose - it was so out of character for him to admit defeat that the word wasn't even in his vocabulary.
He steadied himself and turned. The tears in Yamamoto's eyes, the deep lines drawn on his face and the shaking of his fingers - Hibari saw all these, and he did not understand. Yamamoto seemed to be defeated already, and the battle had yet to begin.
"Why are you crying?" Hibari asked with the curiosity of a child who had discovered a new, shiny object in the room.
Yamamoto blinked rapidly, eyebrows shooting up as an expression of surprise came over his face.
Well, that explained why his vision was suddenly so blurry.
"It's funny," the corners of his lips twitched upwards. In spite of the situation, he laughed. "I didn't know I was crying... I don't know why. You're the one who's hurt..."
He sniffed back the tears, and tried to put on a brave face. "You're so strong, Hibari."
Hibari just stared at him, uncomprehending. Yamamoto was crying and laughing - two supposedly conflicting and contradictory emotions, and it was all just too complicated for him to understand. The other man looked pathetic, the way he tried to pretend that he wasn't flinging his uncontrolled emotions around flagrantly.
Lost wolf trained in by a horde of sheep.
Hibari pulled Yamamoto down until they were nose to nose. He didn't know why it bothered him. Perhaps the weakness of his body was affecting his mind as well.
"Stop behaving so disgracefully," he practically ordered. With his eyes sharp and clear as he looked into Yamamoto's eyes, he declared, "I won't die."
Yamamoto stared for a long, quiet moment, then nodded, and blinked the tears away, lifting a hand to wipe his cheeks dry. Except his hands were dirty with red smears, so he quickly let them drop to his sides.
"... I'll fight you properly," he offered. "After we get cleaned up, and... get some food in your stomach, all right?"
Yamamoto's words barely registered in Hibari's mind. The world was starting to swim again - a sign that he was absolutely exhausted and would become delirious if he didn't sleep soon. He looked down at himself - there were barely a few speckles of blood on his hand and his cuffs, true, but that was inconsequential. He had slept through much worse.
Part of him thought of not sleeping because he might not wake up, but then Hibari snorted to himself and decided that he really was delirious now. His body wouldn't dare to disobey him even while asleep. He turned around and stepped forward such that Yamamoto's chest brushed against him.
"I'm tired," Hibari announced, voice still steady and audible. "I'm going to sleep... Wake me up and I'll bite you to death."
Yamamoto was more comfortable than the floor, he mused fuzzily. With a yawn, he dropped his head onto the taller man's shoulder, draping an arm over the other shoulder before drifting straight off into sleep.
For his part, Yamamoto gave Hibari a startled, wide-eyed gasp, then found himself hurriedly wiping his bloodied hand against his hakama pants. Carefully, he cupped the back of Hibari's head and held the older man securely as he manoeuvred them closer to a wall. He knelt down. No way was Hibari going to get any decent rest standing like that; Yamamoto leaned his back against the wall, and prayed for Hibari, for the Vongola, to no particular denomination. Whoever or whatever listening would do.
***
There was a subtle, slow rocking motion, then, hands on his skin. Hibari was barely aware of all these - the sensations were too faint to pierce through the thick fog of exhaustion in his mind - but he remembered. He remembered enough to not be too surprised when he opened his eyes and, instead of the training room he had expected, he saw his own room.
He blinked, and then slowly sat up. His chest protested, and he ignored it, looking around.
Someone - Hibari had a clear suspicion who - had decided to touch his things. There was certain logic and structure to his room, and it had been upset. The tea set was an inch too much to the left; the chair was pushed in too much; his computer mouse wasn't in its last position. Hibari's eyes narrowed, his eyes flashing as he scanned the room for his tonfas... which were on the nightstand and obviously not on his bed.
Grabbing the metal in his hands, he pushed himself off the bed to stand. The sudden change in position made the world spin dizzily around him, but he ignored it and waited. He knew he wouldn't have to wait too long.
There were footsteps outside the door.
And sure enough, a few seconds later, the door knob turned... and soundlessly Yamamoto opened the door. When he saw Hibari's face however, he smiled brightly and let go, the mechanics of the knob sliding audibly back into its natural position since he wasn't trying to be quiet anymore.
"Up already?" He pulled the door shut behind him without looking back and padded over to one side of the bed, just standing beside Hibari. "I hope it wasn't my footsteps that woke you," Yamamoto teased.
He seemed better. Calm again. And he had changed out of his kendo uniform, back into a deep blue shirt and a comfortable pair of slacks.
But none of that mattered. Hibari's lips drew back, baring his teeth at those words. He nearly marched over, his tonfa raising immediately to press lightly on Yamamoto's throat. "What. Did. You. Do," he growled out.
Yamamoto blinked at the tonfa, tilting his chin up slightly in some semblance of self-preservation. "I..." He searched his mind for anything he did that might have have upset Hibari so. "... I carried you back to your room? And got you out of... " Oh. "... dirtied clothes."
Hibari nearly growled at that. He had been moved, and had his clothes changed... all without waking up or noticing. A surge of anger rose in him, reflected in the tense lines on his jaw and the grinding of his teeth. He wasn't angry at Yamamoto - he was angry at himself, at his own body daring to betray him, at his own inability to stop it.
But being angry at himself did nothing, so he decided to redirect his anger slightly. "What did you touch in my room?" he nearly barked out, pressing the tonfa closer.
Yamamoto had been about to add that he hadn't done anything inappropriate to Hibari either, but that question knocked the thought aside quickly.
"... Your closet. I just grabbed the first things on top. I didn't change your underwear or anything," he blushed.
Hibari stared at the blush. What had caused that particular reaction? It wasn't as if Hibari had asked any question that could have been embarrassing.
How very strange, this Yamamoto Takeshi.
He closed his eyes and stepped back, walking back towards the bed and sitting down on it. He wasn't so irrational as to fight Yamamoto over something so trivial, and when his target wasn't even the Rain Guardian in the first place - he might be so irrational when he was younger, but... things had changed. His priorities were different now.
"Don't move the things in my room," he said tonelessly.
'Yamamoto thought of the chair that he'd rather thoughtlessly nudged aside when he lowered Hibari onto the bed earlier... and recalled moving aside some of the things on the table when he was changing Hibari out of the blood speckled clothes that were now in the wash.
He had been trying to convince himself that it was just for Hibari's benefit when he saw how very thin the ... the dying man was. Hibari really was incredible... Just the fact that he was in such a bad condition, was still so observant, and still so very alive.
"Sorry," Yamamoto smiled sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. "... Did I wake you up?"
Hibari shook his head, answering curtly, "No." Now that his exhaustion was mostly gone, he realized that his rebellious body was now demanding something else.
He stood up slowly, moving towards the door. Then he paused, turning to face Yamamoto, "... Is there food?"
Yamamoto looked dumbfound. And then his stomach growled.
"Ahahaha," he rubbed his stomach half-self-consciously, and nodded. "Soon as we figure out what we want to eat, yeah!"
Hibari's lips quirked up slightly in amusement at the blatant display of hunger. He shook his head, then turned back to his closet and withdrawing his jacket, draping it over his shoulders. The weather had been colder recently. He looked at Yamamoto for a moment, and then shrugged.
"Since you're here, we might as well have Japanese food."
The smile on Yamamoto's face broadened, giving off a soft, warm, natural glow. "Gotcha," he nodded. If there was nothing else he could do for Hibari, at least he could ply that far too thin frame with some decent home-made meals.
***
Tsuna slowed his steps, sniffing the air when he caught the scent of freshly cooked rice wafting out of the kitchen and... ooh, miso soup. He thought of his mother, happy-go-lucky and thankfully clueless, still living in Japan because no one wanted to tell her about her husband and her son and the mafia.
"Hibari-san?" He gaped at the man seated at the kitchen table, then at the one standing, with an apron on. "Yamamoto?"
Reborn, entering the kitchen behind Tsuna, chuckled under his breath at the scene. Hibari was sitting at the table, lifting his head from his hand. It was clear that he had just been dozing off. He looked at Tsuna, then the other two. Well, this was certainly fortuitous.
"Do you have enough for four, Yamamoto?" He dropped into a seat.
Hibari was still slightly groggy from waking up and then falling back to sleep on the kitchen table. His focus sharpened when he spotted Tsuna and Reborn enter, however, and he nodded to the both of them, not bothering to speak. Four people weren't crowding yet, especially since they were all people he could marginally tolerate. So it was alright.
For now.
He picked up the bowl of miso soup and sipped it, while Yamamoto greeted them like the soft, fuzzysheep that he wasn't.
"Sure," the man was laughing, smiling towards his two 'new customers'. He left the rice cooker open for a moment longer to ladle up some more soup. "Have a seat."
Tsuna nodded and took the seat across from his Cloud guardian after a second's deliberation. Yamamoto would probably prefer being right next to him in case anything - touch wood - happened. And Reborn often seemed less... well, intimidating wasn't the right word when it came to Hibari, but it would do. Reborn seemed less imposing when he was sitting beside someone rather than across from them.
Reborn dropped into the seat beside Tsuna, not bothering to hide his gaze as he scrutinized Hibari, who had managed to lose even more weight than before. If he had looked as if he weighed less than a pebble previously, he now looked like he weighed less than a piece of tissue. With gaunt cheeks and dark, sunken eyes, Hibari looked like he was just a set of bones with paper-white skin.
"Are you quite done, baby?" Hibari spoke. It wasn't really a question, but Reborn chose to take it as one anyway.
"No," he replied frankly. "Hibari... are you sure that you can win?"
Hibari turned his head, giving Reborn a sharp, harsh glare. "I am not so weak that I will lose."
Reborn shook his head, giving Hibari's wrist - now barely more than the width of two fingers - a pointed look. Then he turned his head up and looked Hibari straight in the eyes. "I am saying exactly that, Hibari."
"Hibari won't lose." It was with a brittle smile with which Yamamoto served them their soup. Setting the bowl in front of Tsuna, the closest, and then turning to Reborn, Yamamoto, with a hopeful little smile, explained, "He's the strongest. You said it yourself... And we all know Hibari doesn't lie."
With a seemingly casual shrug, Yamamoto turned back to the rice cooker and busied himself with filling their bowls.
Tsuna felt like his stomach was twisting into tight knots. He looked away from his Rain Guardian's back to study his Cloud Guardian's bony wrists. "I don't doubt that you would bite Byakuran-san to death... Reborn's worried for you, is all-"
Reborn interrupted him before he could continue, his tone cold and harsh. "You're the least of my worries, Hibari. Even if there is the slimmest chance that you might lose, or you might die before you get to face Byakuran, we have to prepare for it." He shook his head, "It's not just you who is at stake here."
Hibari opened his eyes, fixing Reborn with a cold, flat stare. He knew that the baby wouldn't blink, so he continued, "All this will be solved if I just bite Byakuran to death," he stated, shrugging. "I am not concerned if you decide to doubt me - I'll just do what I want to."
Facing away from the others, Yamamoto patted the rice into perfect round globes, expressionless. He checked the steamed egg. The eel looked about ready. Vegetables too. He'd said his piece, so he just focused on his dishes, and brought them over when he could look and them and faintly predict his father's approval. The thought of his father, still alive and well in this future that they'd made for themselves, cheered him up more.
A content smile was back on his face when he turned around. "All right then! Dinner is served!"
Tsuna looked at Yamamoto, somewhat relieved that he was acting more or less himself now, instead of the way he'd been acting when Hibari was in coma. He didn't expect Hibari to act any different, dying or not. Reborn was being typically Reborn. Hee sighed - his tutor didn't have to say those things; Hibari probably knew better than anyone what was at stake.
But Tsuna understood. He understood that everyone was worried, and it was coming out in different ways. Reborn was making sure everyone had realistic expectations. Hibari was saving his energy to train and win, and Yamamoto was doing the best he could to stay positive and functional.
"That looks really good, Yamamoto," Tsuna smiled encouragingly, "Ne?" He looked at the other two.
Reborn looked at the spread in front of him and smiled slightly, content. Ah, it was good to have a good cook amongst them. He picked up his chopsticks and nodded to the rest. "Itadakimasu."
Hibari simply picked up a piece of unagi with his chopsticks and popped it in his mouth.
"Itadakimasu!" Tsuna and Yamamoto looked at each other as their voices echoed, a habit that developed back when they were in school together. It was almost a ritual now, something constant that still annoyed Gokudera, but resulted in two reassured smiles saying there's still some semblance of normality in all the chaos.
***
Reborn put down his chopsticks and wiped his mouth clean with a napkin. Around him, he watched as Tsuna and Yamamoto put down their utensils as well. Hibari had stopped eating some time ago, but he hadn't even finished half of his plate. But that was to be expected, he supposed. He gave Yamamoto a glance, telling him to wake Hibari up from the doze he had fallen into.
"Gochisosama!" Yamamoto answered brightly in response. Momentarily, Tsuna went bug-eyed and quickly turned his attention towards Hibari, because, dear heavens, that man was known to wake at the flutter of a falling rose petal, and firsthand experience was phantom pain blossoming all over his body.
Yamamoto eyed Hibari with a soft, playful smirk, and Tsuna held his breath.
Hibari's eyes slowly blinked opened, and he sat up sluggishly on his seat. Covering his mouth as he yawned, he took in Yamamoto's smirk and Tsuna's wide eyes, and shrugged slightly. He leaned forward, dropping his elbow on the table and leaning his head on it. "You're too noisy, Yamamoto Takeshi," he said, voice crisp with barely a slur in it.
"I'll be quiet if you want to sleep," or need rather, but Yamamoto didn't want to set Hibari off with too much teasing. The guy was not fun to rile up, especially not in present condition. Mindfully, he quietly stacked up the plates and bowls. "Or just sleep here. I won't move your things this time."
Tsuna felt distinctly awkward, like he was missing part of the conversation. Move what things? What was last time about? What did this have to do with Hibari sleeping? Oh, he could feel a minor headache coming on.
"Wait," Reborn held up a hand before Hibari even started to open his mouth. He looked from Yamamoto to Hibari, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Then, he picked up his cup of coffee and sipped it, letting the silence sit between them before he spoke.
"Hibari, Yamamoto, I saw your match today," he nodded to the both of them. "I believe that you'll both benefit from training with each other, so I've cleared your schedules for the time being." Then, he turned to Hibari specifically. "Yamamoto will be more interesting than computer simulations."
Hibari shrugged, "Whatever you like. As long as you don't get into my way."
Yamamoto spared a second to blink curiously at Reborn before wiping his surprise away with a grateful, nodding smile. There was a crease between his brows as he glanced sideways towards Hibari, but before Tsuna could tell what to make of it, Yamamoto stood up, carrying the kitchen utensils to the sink.
"Haha," he continued conversationally, "Aren't I supposed to get in your way now?"
Tsuna resolved then to get his hands on the training room videos. Reborn however gave Tsuna a small, smug smile that told the man that he knew exactly what he was thinking about, and that it wouldn't be so easy to find out.
Hibari gave Yamamoto a flat stare, and then he smirked, baring his teeth as he leaned forward. "Then I'll bite you to death," he promised, dark eyes glinting with murderous and violent intent. He stood up in one fluid motion, his hand holding onto the back of his chair for balance as his head swam, and headed towards the door.
Clang!
Tsuna winced as the dishes got dumped in the sink, distracting him from alternatively scowling uselessly at Reborn and worrying for Hibari.
But that was all right. Yamamoto seemed to be worrying enough for all of them.
"Hibari!" The Rain Guardian was beside the Cloud Guardian in swift and giant steps. "Let's head back together," he blurted out.
Gods, why is he acting like he's 15, Tsuna squeaked. It was like watching a trainwreck in slow motion.
Hibari stopped at the door, a steadying hand on the doorframe as he turned to face Yamamoto, his eyes cold as he glared at the taller man. His tonfa materialized in his hand, but it was pointed downwards. "Yamamoto Takeshi," his voice was cold enough to freeze air. "I am not a child who requires your supervision. I can return to my room by myself."
Reborn's lips quirked up.
"Hibari... Kyouya. Allow me to be selfish," came a solemn response. "I want to walk beside you. I won't catch you if you don't fall."
Hibari could only blink at that. There was a strange feeling bubbling in his chest, something that sent warmth throughout his body. It reminded him of the Bucking Horse, and that made him scowl, because the Cavallone confused him and Hibari disliked anything that defied the logic of his world.
Fingers tightening against his tonfa, Hibari stepped forward and pressed the cold metal against Yamamoto's throat again. "Let me make this perfectly clear," he said, tone silky and dangerous. "I do not need anyone to coddle me, especially not an herbivore like you." His smile widened; it wasn't a very pleasant expression.
"Don't think I haven't noticed. I might be weakened, Yamamoto Takeshi, but I am not weak."
Reborn watched Tsuna's eyes go wide and his mouth fall open, hiding his amused grin behind his coffee cup. He turned away from his idiot, slow student back towards Hibari and Yamamoto, leaning backwards. Hmm, is there popcorn around here?
"I know you're not," Yamamoto was saying, expression open, a little hurt, and entirely earnest. "As you say, and as I've said, you're not weak, but you are weakened. We both know that it makes a difference." He frowned. He didn't want to put more stress on Hibari, but some things needed to be said. "All I'm saying is that if you fall, I want to be there to catch you. If you stand, then we can walk together." He reached behind his back to loosen the knot of the apron, leaning ever so slightly into the metal at his neck before moving away to slip the apron off over his head.
"We'd both benefit from training with each other," he repeated Reborn's words. "So please give me the chance to learn not to... hold back from you."
Hibari's brow furrowed, drawing together as he stared at Yamamoto, uncomprehending. The Rain Guardian might as well be speaking an alien language, for all Hibari understood of his little monologue. He shook his head slowly, leaning backwards and letting his tonfa drop back by his side. The Cavallone had said something similar once, and it had caused something that was almost the same as this strange feeling welling up inside him. It was something that made his head spin and his breath speed up and his heartbeat to pound in his ears.
Slowly, he raised a hand to his temple, shaking his head again. What Yamamoto had said was something significant - it struck him as something important. Yet all it seemed to do was to exacerbate his weakness further, and caused him to feel things that he simply didn't understand.
Forget about 'why', Hibari didn't even understand 'what'.
"You..." he looked up again, a lip drawn between his teeth as he just stared at Yamamoto. "I am not a coward, Yamamoto Takeshi, and I never hold back when I fight. It does not matter if you do or not, because I will bite you to death in the end." He slid his tonfa back inside his sleeve. "I don't understand what you are talking about, but know this, Yamamoto Takeshi.
"I don't allow weaklings around me."
With that, he turned and walked away, heading for his room.
From the kitchen doorway, Yamamoto stared after Hibari. A second passed. Two seconds. A few countless more before Hibari slowly turned a corner.
Yamamoto darted after him without another word. There was no doubt in his mind now. Hibari wasn't going to stop and wait for him to catch up even if he asked. It was up to him. He would become stronger.
***
Tsuna didn't know how long he stared at the poor forgotten apron in front of him, but it couldn't have been that bad. His cheeks, his ears were still on fire from what he'd heard. He sort of blanked out on the visuals as soon as the tonfa left Yamamoto's neck.
Reborn's smirk widened as he tipped his hat back. Reaching over, he closed Tsuna's mouth for him. "Stop gaping so widely, no-good-Tsuna," he murmured, sounding far too amused. "It's unbecoming of a boss."
"Yamamoto..." Tsuna began, blinking owlishly. "When..." He cocked his head, and took a deep breath. A couple actually, to force the blush to please, please, please leave his cheeks. "When did he break up with Gokudera-kun?"
Reborn chuckled darkly, finishing his coffee and placing his cup back on the table. Leaning on the table, he stood up, a hand in his pocket. He stepped towards his so-very-naive student, whipping out a paper fan out of nowhere and whacking Tsuna on the head with it.
"Silly Tsuna," he said, like he was speaking to an especially idiotic three year old. "Those two were just fuckbuddies." He started to leave the kitchen, and then paused, turning back around.
"Oh, one more thing. Take care of the dishes, won't you?"
Tsuna croaked out an affirmative.
TBC