Windshear Part [17/?]

Characters/Pairings: Tsuna, Reborn, Gokudera, Ryohei. Implied Byakuran/Mukuro and Mukuro-Tsuna, and eventual Yamamoto/Hibari.
Rating: PG-13
Words: 4726
Summary: Tsuna has too much on the table to deal with Hibari and Yamamoto, while Gokudera has his own problems, too. Reborn, however... will do what he wants, when he wants, and explain to no one.

In the car, Tsuna idly thumbed the crystal on the back of his left X-Burner glove. Leaning back, he frowned as he thought about the doe-eyed look that had crossed Lady Uni's face when he returned the Mare Sky ring to the Giglionero don and informed her that the Gesso don was in the Vongola's care.

It was her right hand man, Gamma, who asked why Byakuran wasn't dead yet, and Tsuna all but repeated the same things that he had told the Varia. But they were only half-truths. Lies. And yet Lady Uni smiled at him sweetly, understandingly, as though she too shared the weight that he felt upon his shoulders. When she thanked him politely for returning her late mother's gift to her, Tsuna felt a little better, but not much.

Reborn turned his head when he heard his student sigh, snapping the safety of his gun shut with a soft click. He placed the silencer against the mouth of it, screwing it tight before sliding the whole thing back into its shoulder holster.

"Are you regretting it?" He turned his head to look Tsuna in the eye. "Rescuing that Byakuran?"

"I feel as though I should," Tsuna murmured, ducking his head, and looking towards the window. "But I'm not.

"I haven't even helped him," he explained. "Not really." The most they've done was to protect and preserve as many lives as they could in the last ten years. They changed so many things, and Byakuran seemed a little less experienced, a little less well-prepared perhaps, and a whole lot stranger - especially with the way he treated Mukuro. But he was still the Big Bad Wolf.

Is Byakuran unredeemable?

Reborn's eyes narrowed on his student. He watched the shifting of Tsuna's hands as his fingers curled into his palm, almost making a fist; watched the lowered eyes and the hunched shoulders. Sighing, he leaned backwards against the leather seats and just gave Tsuna a look.

"You want to save him," he stated flatly. It was something that only this silly student would do, really. Tsuna abhorred killing, no matter how many years he had been in the mafia. After all, he still felt guilty - what an understatement - every time he sent out his guardians on missions to 'warn' a few Families or to simply get rid of them, never mind the fact that he only gave those orders to protect the Vongola and keep the peace.

Such a silly, silly student. But he still managed to make things work. Somehow. Though how long, Reborn wondered, would it last?

"I don't think I'm the right person to do it," Tsuna quietly admitted, thinking of that soft, indulgent smile Mukuro had given him at the end of their last conversation. If Byakuran could only see that, he mused, would it be a good thing or not? Tsuna spread his fingers and forced them to relax, staring at them as he continued, "But I want to give them every opportunity..."

Reborn could only stare at him, uncomprehending for a long, silent moment. He took a breath and slid the gun out of the holster again. He toyed with it in his hands, releasing the cartridge and popping it back in while he resisted not hitting Tsuna immediately.

"You want Rokudo Mukuro to save him," his voice was scathing.

Tsuna winced. "It only sounds bad out loud," he maintained. "But if anyone can do it..." He took a deep breath and slumped back against the plush leather seat. "No... I can't think of anyone else who could, Reborn."

He looked towards his tutor for advice. Or maybe Reborn would smack some sense into him.

But he was looking for it from the wrong person. Reborn slammed the cartridge back in, hard, and clicked the safety back, shifting the gun to point it straight to Tsuna's head. "I'm going to shoot you if you don't answer correctly, silly Tsuna." His smile was nearly malicious, eyes cold. "What will you do if he endangers the famiglia again?"

"Protect it," Tsuna answered, his eyes sharp and serious. There was passion in his voice. He knew that Reborn was angry at him, had been angry at him for the last few days because of how he dealt with Byakuran, but it was out of love and loyalty to the famiglia - they both shared those feelings. "Protect it with my dying will."

***

"The Denaro family are grateful for our 'timely intervention,' Tenth," Gokudera's smirk was small, somewhat exasperated, but satisfied and his hands were relaxed at his sides. "The feud's been taken care of, and an alliance set."

Tsuna nodded, smiling back. Reborn wasn't behind him, which was a strange occurrence in itself given how important this mission had seemed to be, but Gokudera pushed away that thought to be chewed on later on. He focused on his don, noting that there was an edge, a strain to his expression, but Tsuna ducked his head to shuffle the reports on his hands. Looking up again, Tsuna cleared his throat, and his smile was more sincere. "Thank you for your hard work, Gokudera-kun, Yamamoto." His eyes rested just a little longer on Yamamoto, worried.

Gokudera followed that gaze, his lips thinning a little as he reached over and grabbed the tall idiot by the cuffs. Nearly dragging him to the door, he nodded to Tsuna. "You're welcome, Tenth. Pardon us."

It was evidenced in Tsuna's answering nod that he trusted Gokudera to work out what was wrong with Yamamoto.

Yamamoto seemed normal, for the most part. He finished the mission just fine. He'd said goodbye and waved with a typical boyish smile as they left Tsuna's office, but the cheery expression hadn't reached his eyes.

Gokudera had the decency to wait until they were out of the room and back in his own room before he glared at Yamamoto. He strode over to his desk and tore open a packet of pocky, pulling one out by his teeth and chewing vigorously on the dark chocolate biscuit stick. Crossing his arms, he spoke, "Right. Something's bothering you. Now talk."

The idiot gave him a blank stare for a second too long, then, with a soft chuckle, plopped down on the couch. "You know me too well, Gokudera," he sighed. Not by choice, the other man's impatient glower seemed to suggest, but Yamamoto knew better too. "I finally told Hibari. That I really like him. And he...

"Haha, we said a lot of things," Yamamoto ducked his head, smiling briefly. "But he told me that... it was a herbivore thing." His shoulders slumped. "And... that he had thought that I was better than that."

Fingers dragged through silver hair, tugging at the strands as Gokudera stared at Yamamoto. Should he just tell the idiot that he should have expected that? Should he comfort him – how could you comfort someone after that anyway? 'You dumbass,' was right on the tip of Gokudera's tongue, but Yamamoto's expression made him hold back for the moment. He knew that already – that much was obvious. Yet...

Gokudera sighed, sticking his hands into his pockets and hunching his shoulders. He took the stick of pocky out of his mouth and pointed at Yamamoto. "You dumb ass," he pronounced. "You know what he's like."

"Ahahaha, you're right." Yamamoto ran a hand through his hair. "I just... really wanted him to know." He blinked several times and turned his eyes towards the ceiling. "He was so angry at himself, for being weak... I wanted him to know that it was okay, that he's not alone and..." He broke off into laughter again. "It's funny, isn't it? Maybe he'd prefer being left alone..."

Gokudera restrained the urge to slap Yamamoto upside the head immediately. He turned the imminent slap into a sweep outwards, frustration written all over his face as he sighed. "Yamamoto, you- You do remember that this is Hibari, right? The Cloud Guardian, Mister I'll-bite-you-to-death-if-you-so-much-as-breathe-loudly-when-I-sleep?" He grabbed Yamamoto by the shoulders and shook him a little. "For god's sake, did falling in love blind you or something?!"

Yamamoto shook his head and closed his eyes briefly before looking back at Gokudera half-pleadingly. "You both make it sound like a horrible thing, having feelings for Hibari.

"I don't understand..."

Closing his eyes and taking a few deep, long breaths, Gokudera dropped his hands back to his sides and stepped away. "Look, Yamamoto. I'm not saying that it's a horrible thing to have feelings for him. I think it's dumb, but you probably can't help it. Love is blind and all that bullshit." He dragged a hand through his hair. "But you're handling it wrongly, damnit. You know how Hibari's like."

'Dumb.' 'Wrong.' Coming from Gokudera, the words struck Yamamoto as expressions of tough love. He flinched, not because of that, but because he really didn't know how to deal with what he felt for Hibari along, especially in light of how the other man responded.

Gokudera slumped against the couch, chewing on his lip for the sake of having something in his mouth. "I'm not surprised you got the reaction you got. He's probably asexual or something."

"Yeah," Yamamoto deadpanned. "Hibari thinks sex is disgusting... And only herbivores do it." That drew a dry smirk upon his face. "No wonder he calls us herbivores."

Gokudera could only stare at him before slapping a hand against his eyes, groaning out loud. He tilted his head back, staring at the ceiling. "I knew it. I knew he had to be a virgin," he grumbled under his breath. Then, he blinked, realizing something.

"...Wait," he leaned forward. "You brought up sex?"

"Um..." Yamamoto tilted his head. "No? Ahaha, he asked me if that's what I meant though... in terms of liking him."

"And you said yes," came the deadpanned rejoinder.

Yamamoto knew that look: Gokudera's 'why am I'm surrounded by idiots' look. The corners of his lips twitched, and laughter burst forth. He squeezed his eyes shut, feeling them get just the slightest bit watery, and tried to stifle it with more laughter. He managed to plunk his forehead over Gokudera's shoulder, still chuckling lightly as he groaned, "I wasn't trying to get into his pants."

"Of course not," Gokudera snorted, crossing his arms and stamping down on the urge to push Yamamoto away immediately. If his best friend needed some comforting, then this was the least he could do, really. "You'd have to be pretty sick in the head to try for sex when he's still in physiotherapy."

He glanced at Yamamoto for a moment before turning his eyes back to the ceiling again, fingers tapping against the wood. "So what are you going to do now?"

Lifting a hand, Yamamoto rubbed his eyes, and sniffed back the tears before they could fall. He wasn't really crying, but he was hurting, and knew that it was nothing compared to what Hibari was going through. Telling Hibari probably just made the other man feel worse.

Yamamoto sighed, and backed away, dry-eyed. "Well," he grinned, "he's still not eating hospital food." A quiet laugh. "I doubt what we said would keep him from what I cook." He stood up.

Gokudera ran a hand through his hair, "Ch'. I don't get even why you like him. And I don't want to get it, either. He's a damn bastard." He looked at Yamamoto, and then lightly punched him on the shoulder. "Why the hell are you crying over this? Stop it, it's pathetic."

"I stopped," Yamamoto chuckled, holding his hands up in a gesture of surrender. "I stopped! I'm good now." He blinked a bit, and rubbed his eyes again to be sure. "So, hey," he added, a small boyish grin in accompaniment. "What do you want for dinner?"

Taking another pocky stick out of the pack, Gokudera crunched down hard on it, turning away. "Chirashi," he grumbled out. "And make it good too. I deserve it for having to deal with your shit."

Yamamoto nodded, and helpfully offered, "I can deal with yours if you've got some to share." Gokudera had been trying to quit smoking for a while, hadn't he? Yamamoto recalled those mumbles of withdrawal being a 'bitch'. And if that was the case, Gokudera was bound to be hard on himself.

"I don't need your help," Gokudera shot back immediately, rubbing a hand through his hair and thoroughly ruffling it. He looked frustrated, and no little like a ruffled cat with its hackles up. "Ch', I can deal with it myself. You just focus on that... thing," he made some vague hand motions, "you have with Hibari so you won't keep moping around."

"Gokudera," a faint, hopeful light entered Yamamoto's eyes, stopping him from turning towards the door. "do you really think that I have something... with Hibari?"

Gokudera shrugged, leaning back and swinging a leg over an arm of the couch. "I don't know. But if anyone is persistent enough to..." he made a face at the next word, "woo him or something like that, it's you. I don't think you're giving up, right?"

"...Nah," Yamamoto beamed happily for a full second, and then frowned, perplexed. "I don't think he'd take well to being wooed though." He shook his head, "But I'm not giving up. I just haven't figured out what to do about it yet. That doesn't mean I should stop doing what I have been doing, right?" He shrugged, a reassuring smile coming back. "... What are you dealing with lately?"

Another pocky met its violent end in Gokudera's mouth. "You, mostly," he bit out sarcastically. Then he waved a hand in front of him, sharp and dismissive before dropping his head back, staring at the ceiling as he sighed, "Missions. Not smoking. Not having sex. You know. The usual."

"Oh... That-"

"Oi! Octopus head!" Bam bam bam bam, came from the door, shaking on its hinges. "Sawada said you came back!"

"Lawn head!" Gokudera yelled from the couch, not even bothering to get up. "It wouldn't kill you to knock like a goddamn normal person! It's not locked!"

That was as good an invitation as any. Ryohei stopped harassing the door and stomped right on in. "Hey, Yamamoto!" He grinned.

"Yo, Sasagawa-sempai," Yamamoto nodded, grinning back.

Ryohei held a white, plastic bag out to Gokudera. "First things first: Sawada asked me to get you these. Here!"

Gokudera squinted slightly, leaning back away from the sheer amount of noise that Ryohei was capable of emitting even when relaxed. He reached out and took the bag, opening it.

His eyes lit up, and he grinned, whipping out one of the nicotine patches from inside and clenching it in his fist. "Thank you, Tenth!"

And while Gokudera promptly tuned them out, going over the instructions with stars in his eyes, Yamamoto looked at Ryohei. "Haha, you bought these yourself, right? We were just talking to Tsuna."

"Yeah," Ryohei nodded. "But don't worry about paying me back or anything, octopus head," he quickly added, patting Gokudera on the shoulder. "It's on me!"

Gokudera stared at him, then turned away, standing up and looking Ryohei in the eyes. "As if I'm going to owe you like that." He strode over to his desk, picking up his wallet and flipping it open, "How much was it, lawn head?"

"It's free," Ryohei maintained, "Call it a present. You're finally taking steps to care for your own body instead of trying to poison it to the extreme!"

Yamamoto laughed.

"Shut up, baseball idiot," Gokudera turned around and bit out. He sighed, and dropped the wallet back onto the table. "Fine, fine, damnit. But I owe you one."

At that, Ryohei's grin seemed to brighten the room by a few hundred watts. "Good," he said. Yamamoto tilted his head, saying nothing as the older man continued, "Then you're coming with me!" He grabbed Gokudera by the arm, swinging it up so that he could cover the man's fist with his own. "We're going to climb the Apennines - 'cause Sawada swore he'd tell my sister if I went off alone."

"Are you fucking crazy?!" Gokudera pulled hard, trying to get out of Ryohei's grasp. "Going hiking in the Apennines at this time! Have you forgotten about the Millefiore? About that bastard Byakuran and what he did to the Tenth, and what he had done to Hibari?" He reached forward and slapped the other man across the temple. "Lawn head!"

Ryohei was learning - he ducked out of the way, and caught his wrist. "That's just it, octopus head! It'll be good training, and we should be training; what better time is there now that the Gesso family's regrouping?

While Yamamoto could wrap his head around that logic, he was surprised, since their Sun guardian usually seemed so oblivious. But the mention of Byakuran, and what he did to Hibari left Yamamoto frowning to himself.

"And who said anything about hiking?" Ryohei blinked, "We're scaling the Corno Grande - with our dying will!"

"Training?!" Gokudera sounded so incredulous that he practically spitting nails. Ryohei did have a point, as much as he hated to admit it even to himself, but it was a nonsensical point, from how he saw it. "If you want to train, I can blow you up right here! I'm not going to some godforsaken mountain to scale it! The Tenth needs us with him right now. Who knows when the hell Byakuran would strike?!"

"Well, we got that Rokudo watching him like a hawk already," Ryohei responded, then seemed to think better of it. "But you're right," he conceded. "Maybe it's not the best time to go too far away for training right now. So let's do it in the training rooms, and scale the mountains later!"

Yamamoto chuckled, "We just got back from a mission, Sasagawa-sempai... How about dinner first, and then a good night's rest?"

Gokudera stared at him for a moment, running the words over his head. He took a deep breath and aimed a punch straight for Ryohei's face. "Who wants to do anything with you anywhere, you damn idiot?!"

Ryohei, the only one in the room who didn't catch the innuendo, ducked down and sidestepped the blow. "Oh, you'd rather start with doing it here? I'm all for it, octopussy," he grinned, pulling his fists up and bouncing on the heels of his feet energetically.

"Hey, Yamamoto! Let's have dinner after this!"

"After you do it with Gokudera in this room?" Yamamoto nodded, grinning enthusiastically. "Okay!"

"You! Shut up!" Gokudera hissed at Yamamoto, trying to regain his composure and stop flailing around like the octopus that was his namesake as far as Ryohei was concerned. He also tried his best to ignore that nickname. "Lawn head, stop calling me that, goddamnit! And we're not doing it in my room!"

"Hahaha," Yamamoto lost it again, and waved it off as he turned for the door. "I'll go make chirashi, guys. See you downstairs in a bit!"

When he stepped out of the door, he looked back over his shoulder to the two still talking animatedly in the room. "Thank you, Gokudera," he smiled and left.

***

Reborn was on the windowsill somehow. He hadn't made a sound when he entered, but the level of light coming into the room changed, and Hibird plopped down from a branch to sit on his fedora.

Hibari's eyes snapped open immediately, narrowing at the sight of Reborn, and he pushed himself to a sitting position slowly. "Baby."

"Hibari Kyouya," a brief nod of his head, and Reborn got right down to business. "What have you done to Yamamoto Takeshi?"

Hibari leaned backwards, tilting his head to the side. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Reborn sighed internally. He'd thought as much.

"Outside of missions, Yamamoto's become quieter and more distracted," Reborn crossed his legs, a thin smile upon his lips. "This type of behavior... Of late, it's usually related to you."

Hibari shrugged, ignoring the sudden pang of something in his chest. It had been happening a lot lately - perhaps the cure wasn't as potent as they had thought. He placed a hand over it, as if resting. "He told me he 'liked me', and I told him that affection is for herbivores."

"You rejected him," Reborn translated. He nodded to himself, and Hibird flew over to Hibari's side, resting its little feet on the small table beside the bed and staring up at him curiously.

Turning to the bird, Hibari patted it gently on the head with a finger, smoothing down some of the rogue feathers that were standing up. Hibird flapped its wings, bouncing as it chirped. softly, nudging at Hibari's finger with its head.

"Have I?" the Cloud Guardian seemed impassive, yet almost surprised. Unconsciously, his hand rubbed the front of his chest, breath hitching lightly. "All I said was simply the truth."

"That you can't like him in return, because it would be herbivore of you," Reborn stated, and let it sink in. "Or are you saying you do not reject him. That you welcome his interest?"

A flash of confusion registered in Hibari's eyes before he buried it again, looking past Reborn to stare out to the sky. "That affection is only for herbivores, and he should get rid of it," he said flatly.

"And why should it matter to you, whether he keeps it?" Reborn smiled, the front of his fedora covering his eyes. When Yamamoto first showed interest in Hibari, Reborn had watched and waited to see what would come of it. Hibari motivated Yamamoto to become a stronger hitman. That had been a good thing. But too much of a good thing was the exact opposite. If there was no way Hibari was going to feel anything for Yaamoto in return, then Reborn would take it upon himself to help Yamamoto 'get rid of it.'

Hibari snorted, "He is far better than that." He sounded almost disgusted by the thought. "He spent too much time acting like a sheep that he has turned into one. It's unbecoming."

"No," Reborn shook his head. "He's a wolf. And you," he eyed Hibari with laughter in his eyes. "You are a potential mate."

Hibari's eyes widened and he almost instinctively backed away, hands clenching around the bedsheets as he stared at Reborn, rendered entirely speechless and stunned.

"... What?"

"It's actually clever of him, picking you." Reborn continued airily. "Although I doubt that the decision was a deliberate one. You motivate him to become a better hitman," he said approvingly. "Care to suggest a more suitable mate, if you're not interested?"

Hibari crossed his arms, his fingers tightening at the sleeves, digging into his skin and he practically spat the next words out, "You are boring me, baby. What are you here for?"

Reborn looked down briefly, sighing in silence once more. "I'm not here to entertain you. If you don't understand why I'm here... maybe it's best." He leaned back on the windowsill and picked up a cloth wrapped bento before hopping to his feet. "Here," he set the package beside Hibird. "Your wolf won't be coming in today, but he hasn't forgotten about you."

Hibari glanced at it, reaching over to pull open the cloth and lift out the plastic bento box. Familiar smells of home-cooked Japanese food wafted out from it, and he placed it back down on the nightstand, turning to Reborn once more. "Why?" he asked simply.

"Elaborate," Reborn shot back.

Hibari waved a hand towards the bento, "What is the reason for this?"

"I wonder," Reborn said wryly, a smirk tugging at his lips. "A good wolf makes sure his pack is fed."

"Does he feed the rest of you, then?" Hibari cocked his head to the side, voice sardonic. "He's more of your pack than I am."

"Occasionally," Reborn nodded. "But Yamamoto doesn't want to put our cooks out onto the streets. He's trying to provide for you, Hibari."

"...Is that because he likes me?"

"Is it such a confusing concept?" Reborn asked, smirking slightly. "It's simple, really. If you find it difficult, you haven't thought about it long enough," he said knowingly, giving an elegant shrug. Turning his attention to the stack of DVDs on the table, he smiled with the slightest hint of pride. "Nonetheless, Hibari, Yamamoto affection for you has made him stronger, rather than weaker."

Hibari's gaze followed his, looking at the DVDs as well. He let the silence sit between them for some time before speaking again, sounding contemplative, "He was... Yet he still behaves like a herbivore." Shaking his head, he now looked confused and no little irritated. "I don't understand him."

"And you never will if you still insist on pushing anyone who confuses you away," Reborn said, thinking of another one of his idiot students.

"Give me a reason why I should bother, baby," Hibari's eyes narrowed into slit, lips pressed into a thin line.

"Well, I can say that you owe it to him," Reborn mused, a small smirk hidden by the shadows of his fedora. "He helped you overcome your illness and even found the cure for you. Without him, you would be dead. Have you lost even the ability to return the favour now, Hibari?"

Hibari's expression darkened immediately, his hand clenching around the front of his shirt as he hissed out his next words, "I'm not so weak, baby, no matter how I might seem now." He squeezed his eyes shut, exhaling slowly and trying to get rid of the tightening fist that seemed to be clenching around his heart.

It hurt.

"So you want me to be like a herbivore to repay him?" he breathed the words out, barely audible. "You're being ridiculous."

Reborn shook his head. "I would say that applies to you. Never in all my years have I come across the claim that affection is only for herbivores. That, in itself, is most ridiculous." He noted the way Hibari's hand was clutching his chest.

"What you do to repay him is your choice, always." Reborn smirked sagely. "But if you do find yourself dizzy, short of breath, or with a tight feeling in your chest because of Yamamoto, you already feel something for him. It doesn't change what you are."

"Baby," Hibari suddenly leaned forward, a hand palm-flat in front of him for balance. He was still trying to regulate his breathing and get rid of the dizziness that plagued him. "What do you mean?"

"It means you've already formed a bond with him," Reborn tapped his chin, as if considering, "and that he affects you, just as you affect him."

"You're saying that I like him," Hibari stated flatly, wide-eyed as he stared at Reborn. "You..." He closed his eyes, his lips curving up into something that almost resembles a smile.

"I am in recovery, baby."

"You're the only one who can determine if you feel different because of him or because of your own health. Have you never felt that way in regards to anyone else?" Reborn turned away, back towards the window.

Someone else... Hibari dropped backwards, breathing shallowly and starting to pant, tired from the conversation alone. There was only one other person that he could think of who made him feel anything like that. "The Bucking Horse," he murmured to himself, eyes closed.

"Hm..." Reborn glanced back, not at all surprised. "Do you still?"

Hibari cracked an eye open, exhaling in an explosive gust. "I don't know," he said. "Baby, how strong can a person become when they 'like' someone else?"

Reborn raised an eyebrow, and his smile widened. It was rare, but he actually chuckled at the question; it was so very Hibari to ask. After a long, silent moment of consideration, he spoke.

"You're looking at a living example. I will not elaborate."

Hibari's eyes flew open, simply staring at the strongest man he had ever known. Then, slowly, almost unconsciously, his lips curled up into a smile, sharp at the edges but still genuine. "I see." He tapped a hand against a knee. "I won't ask."

"Well then," Reborn tipped his hat in farewell. "Enjoy your meal." And left.