Chapter six: A Hole In The Wall
"There's a hole in your wall."
The velvety voice resonated in his head as the meaning of words said slowly made its way towards his little grey cells that seemed to have resigned their post for the time being. He didn't have the time nor will to deal with anyone besides himself right now; damn, he wasn't even capable of thinking straight.
"I know," came the laconic answer.
'The one in the wall is not the only one, though.'
His sister's eyes scanned him closely through the orange-tinted glasses she was wearing to avoid causing further discomfort to the little silvery-headed brother. For a few moments, her face resembled so much her brother's intimidating gaze that despite the several obvious differences in appearance and attitude no one would ever doubt they were siblings.
"So, what are you going to do about it?"
There was something far from casual in her voice, despite the fact they were discussing meaningless damage that could be easily repaired, and actually occurred on a regular basis. Broken windows, blasted walls, shattered bricks, punctured roof... all that was nothing new. And yet, this certain minor damage to the otherwise spotless white wall of the hallway seemed to bother her immensely, unlike any sight of demolition up to now.
Her silver-haired brother lowered his head, and let the now loose glistening strands fall over his face in a waterfall of reflecting light.
"Same as always. Put some kit over it, and paint it. It's gonna disappear like it never happened."
She closed the gap between them in a few determined paces, and took his chin in an iron grip, lifting his head up to face her almost violently. A fierce expression lit up her face, unlike anything you'd expect in such a situation. Even with the orange goggles that interrupted the sharp lines exhibiting her intransigent attitude, the expression etched on her face was a formidable display of unbending will and determination, as well as a tiny tinge of worry that clouded the burning gaze of her emerald eyes.
'Why'd she get that upset over a dint in the wall..?'
Confusion appeared on Hayato's face, only fuelling his sister's anger. In a normal situation, he'd surely be spitting back retorts by now, and asking what the hell was wrong with her – but something in her face made the words stop in his throat, before they could form into anything audible.
"You can't just cover it up and pretend nothing ever happened...!"
She was almost screaming now, and at such a short distance, it proved rather painful to his eardrums.
However, the delinquent-looking teen still refused to understand what the true object of her wrath mingling with worrisome pain was, and was merely getting more and more confused, still focusing on the dint that seemed to be the problem discussed.
Finally, he managed to force air up his throat and past his vocal cords, mouthing at least a bit of his thoughts even though his sister's expression robbed him of his disrespectful attitude.
"Why are you making such a fuss... it's just a dint, it's not like it's the first time something like that happened..."
It sounded like there was more coming, but he never got the chance to utter another word, since his sister ruthlessly cut him off.
"Hayato... don't treat me like an idiot. I'm talking about the reason for that dint."
Her voice was perfectly calm now, to the point of freezing cold, even sounding a bit threatening at first – and yet, it turned out somewhat soothing in the end. He was her brother after all. If he thought he could hide something like that from her, he was mistaken.
The addressed couldn't utter as much as a word. Could she really have known about that – or was she just bluffing...? He had always been so careful not to give himself away, so cautious to not let anything slip, there was no way, absolutely no way she could have... and yet, the knowing look in her eyes pierced through him as knives.
He was breaking, his mask was cracking, and he knew it.
"Hayato, you... love him, don't you?" she asked softly.
The jade green eyes that perfectly reflected hers widened in shock and... fear? Never had anyone witnessed the eyes of the storm guardian to express fear or anxiety – not even in the most gloomy-looking battles, not when the juudaime's life was at risk, not when he himself seemed to be as good as dead, matched against an opponent far beyond his league; no, never once before had Gokudera Hayato shown such a panicked expression.
And yet, here it was – widened eyes, fighting back the salty humid that he had already forgotten it was called tears, softly shaking body, trembling with pain and fear; fear of losing everyone because of these silly unreasonable feelings he had... fear of everyone he cherished turning his back on him... fear of being rejected... again.
His chin slipped out of his sister's vicegrip as he nodded in defeat, his gaze downcast and obscured with a veil of liquid slowly protruding out those pools of green that struggled to hide those treacherous tears.
A moment of silence passed, and then a simple question, spoken matter-of-factly.
"And what are you going to do about it?"
It took him several seconds to grasp the meaning of those words, and capture the inquiring and yet caring, almost encouraging sound of it as if the question itself was urging him to act the way his heart aspired to- 'But what is she expecting me to do anyway?' There was nothing that could be done except going on like he'd been going so far. Pretending he never felt anything. Pushing him away. Acting in perfect discord with his wishes. Denying his feelings and needs.
There was no other way, simply no other way for him...
If anyone knew about it... he didn't even want to imagine.
The juudaime would surely never want to see him again... so much for the right-hand-man of the young Vongola Boss... And the others, it was only natural they'd reject him. The mafia, the Vongola, the famiglia, the concept of the Guardians itself – everything was based on tradition. He was expected to follow the tradition, to nurture it and aid to its rise in another generation of young guardians – in every single aspect.
His feelings... were not something the traditionalist-minded world would easily accept. Here, his battle record and fighting prowess was worth as good as nothing; nothing would be an excuse good enough to keep a perverted freak of nature in the famiglia. Not that he'd want to stay once they'd find out. Even if the kind-hearted juudaime could forgive him... everything would change. He was already picturing the world where everyone would avoid him anywhere he went, no one wanting to have any business with him, even the ones handing him mission information files keeping their distance and darting away at full speed after the delivery had been accomplished – as if homosexuality would be a contagious disease.
No, really, there was nothing to do about it apart from what he was already doing – putting all his efforts in hiding it.
A silent, nearly inaudible whisper escaped his barely parted lips in reply.
"Nothing."
Before he could say another word or lift his gaze to meet the fierce expression his infuriated sister bore, a slap landed on his left cheek.
His head involuntarily spun a quarter of a turn, and a red mark the distinguishable shape of a palm formed almost immediately. The scorching pain resembling a thousand of needles stabbing him repeatedly spread over the crimson-painted area over his cheek as he yelled at her
"What the hell was that for?"
However, his anger was no match against Bianchi's fury. She might have high tolerance, and tends not to show her wrath even when angered, but there are things she would not tolerate, and ignoring and abandoning love was one of them. Love, the most sacred of feelings, the purest of all longings – and yet, here, here own brother, was rejecting those pure and innocent feelings of finding perfect harmony with another human soul, and ditching his heart's desires entirely. No, that was certainly something Bianchi would not take. She might've been fighting her brother; but the truth was, she was fighting for him, since he won't for himself.
"Stop feeling sorry for yourself and do something about it!"
Another utterly shocked gaze made her pause for a moment.
"Do you think I'm gonna sit still and watch my brother slowly tear his own heart to shreds? If it's love what you feel, then fight for it! Don't just sit here and brood over your pitifulness! Do something! Tell him what you feel, put your feelings into words and whisper them in his ear! Hold onto him and don't let him go!"
It took him a few seconds to realise he's been gaping with his mouth wide open at her, and probably looked like a runaway from a mental institute by now. Thus, he focused all his energy into first shutting his mouth close with a clunk – while the words still echoed through his mind, his brain cells unable to work properly and comprehend the entirety of what he had just been told.
However, gradually, his mind would catch up, taking in bits and pieces of stored information one by one, and putting them together to complete the puzzle that dumbfounded the silver head. Not only his sister had not turned her back on him the moment the truth was revealed as he'd been expecting her to do; no, she didn't even hate him... All she had shown was absolute intolerance of him not pursuing his hearts' desires, however wrong and unnatural they may be... She was actually concerned, and even encouraged him to take action towards his beloved one, regardless of his gender...
"A-aneki..."
The rest of the scene should probably remain unrevealed for the sake of mental health of everyone knowing Hayato Gokudera as the intimidating storm guardian with the unbreakable mask of a troublesome teen, who had never ever shown as much as a shred of feelings other than his unrivaled loyalty towards his boss. Those who wish to retain their sanity should avert their gaze now, for the normally wrathful emerald pools that now looked up towards his sister in awe were wide open and veiled with the salt liquid he had so rarely let to see the light of the day, now overflowing abundantly over the bridges of his eyelids; the strong, decisive lines of his face were softened to the limit of non-recognition when compared to the delinquent-looking teen that managed to enchant the half of the female population of Nami Middle that wasn't after Yamamoto; and his perfect façade that kept him safe from the world for so long now utterly shattered, his face exhibiting all the emotions he had bottled up inside until now by hiding and suppressing them.
Never once had anyone witnessed that much emotion heaped up on the face of Gokudera Hayato.
The fuchsia-haired female smiled soothingly, and leaned forward, suddenly throwing her delicate porcelain-like arms around the troubled teen. She hugged him affectionately, one of the rare moments she exhibited the strong bond she felt they shared as siblings. After all, she was his elder sister.
He, no longer being able to be taken by surprise, buried his face in the silky-soft hair that spread over her shoulder and let his sister comfort him. A silent whisper reached his ears, and he took it all in, etching the words she said into his mind as if they were laws, or rather, the words of a god.
"Love is nothing to be ashamed of, Hayato.
Love is pure... love is innocent... some might judge you, but know, my brother, that those live in utter ignorance. They do not know the way of the heart...
Tell him, Hayato. Tell him everything. Show him, if you can't tell him. He deserves to know... and you deserve to show those feelings... to live and love freely... you deserve to release those shackles holding you back...
Hayato, don't deny your love, don't refuse your heart the longing... I'll be always there for you, see?... and I'm certain that everyone feels the same... because we love you for who you are, not for whom you love...
Don't worry... just fight for you love... don't you let him go..."
They probably stayed like that for an hour or so, until the slight sobbing of the silver-mane teen ceased, and his tired eyes once again resembled the depths of a clear mountain stream. It was already past midnight when Bianchi left, and Hayato was left alone again, although feeling better, but still with a mind full of contradicting thoughts.
The dark insomniac rings beneath his eyes only seeped deeper by morning, another sleepless night added to the record.
Okay, I know I've been dragging this emo-angsty stuff for six chapters now, but I promise this is the last one – I hereby solemnly swear that I am up to no good in the next chapter, meaning we finally get some action (read: fluff). I have to say I really loved writing this chapter, though; not only I slipped a bit of a more serious undertone in the writing, tackling the prejudices and stereotypes of the modern world, I feel like I can really get into Gokudera's character, and Bianchi is ass-kickingly awesome :3 She's one of the rare characters that deserve a role in this fic because they're awesome like that, and you probably already know who the other one will be (hints for both Bianchi and him are in the last paragraph of ch 4).
Before I stop talking meaningless stuff (seems I'm quite in the talkative mood today), let me thank again my lovely reviewers – you guys really keep me going and wanting to write the best I can.