Disclaimers: Don't own KHR or its characters.
Warnings: fluff, swearing, PTSD.
UN-BETA'ed FOR NOW.
3 days later – Namimori Hospital, 3.23am
Gokudera was screaming.
It was the fifth time of the night. It happened at least four times every night since Gokudera had been here, but Yamamoto never got used to it. Yamamoto didn't think he'd ever get used to the sound of Gokudera screaming. Especially not the way Gokudera did it now. A scream forced from a throat that clearly had suffered excess abuse was gut-wrenching. The screams didn't last long. They weren't even loud. But every time, they managed to snap Yamamoto out of his sleep and he would come to Gokudera's side at once.
"Gokudera," Yamamoto murmured, shaking him. He had long since made it his duty to wake Gokudera from these night terrors.
Gokudera thrashed in his bed, shivering, trembling. He had stopped screaming by now, but he was still whimpering incomprehensible words of fear. Sometimes, Yamamoto could make out a few of them. 'Stop'. 'Enough'. 'Can't'. 'Help.'... It broke Yamamoto to know that these were probably the words Gokudera kept saying during the time everything happened. Occasionally, Gokudera would slip out the heartbreaking 'please'. Yamamoto could barely stand it. Then, even less frequently, Gokudera would say something else that would very nearly kill the baseball ace.
"Yama... Yamamoto..." There it was. His name. It reminded Yamamoto once again that he hadn't been there for Gokudera when he most needed him. As if any reminders were necessary. As if Yamamoto didn't beat himself up over it every minute of the day he spent at the hospital, seeing how Gokudera was – what the assault did to him. Sure, the silvernette acted like nothing was wrong, that he was 'fine', that everything was. But Yamamoto saw, too many times, how Gokudera didn't respond when his name was called or when someone nudged him. He saw the look in Gokudera's eyes right before he threw up. Yamamoto noticed the extremely long time Gokudera spent in the bathroom, and found Gokudera in there, intently scrubbing his hands – for more than two hours.
"Shh... Gokudera, I'm here," Yamamoto whispered, sitting down on the bed and pulling the shuddering Gokudera into his arms. Gokudera automatically clung to Yamamoto's shirt even though his eyes were still closed. Yamamoto folded him in close, holding him through the little jerks of his body, smoothing his hair and murmuring soft words to him until, eventually, Gokudera calmed down.
Gokudera leaned into Yamamoto's neck, taking in his scent. "...Yamamoto."
"Yes," Yamamoto breathed, rubbing circles on the back of Gokudera's neck with his thumb. "You're awake?"
"Mm," Gokudera sighed, clinging tighter to him. "You're here."
"I am," Yamamoto nodded. "It's still early. Think you can sleep again?"
"Don't wanna," Gokudera shook his head, "Sleeping sucks." Then, he opened his eyes and looked up at Yamamoto with those watery emerald eyes that seemed to deepen in the darkness. "...you smell like soap."
Yamamoto chuckled softly, pulling Gokudera closer to him.
Gokudera blinked, "Do that again."
"Hm?" Yamamoto hummed.
"That little laugh," Gokudera mumbled. "Just now. You did it. Do it again."
Without even realizing, Yamamoto had already chuckled again. Then, he looked at Gokudera questioningly, "Why?"
"Nothing." Gokudera said quickly. Too quickly. He seemed to realise it too as he covered for it by hastily continuing, "I'm fine, by the way. You can go sleep. I'm okay. Really."
There we go with that again. Yamamoto didn't move away an inch. Instead, he whispered, "You want me to let go?"
Gokudera didn't reply. Yamamoto had learnt that this was Gokudera's new way of reluctantly submitting to him. Yamamoto didn't understand Gokudera's need to pretend that everything was alright when it obviously wasn't. But he didn't mind. Gokudera had always been the type who hid away his true feelings, his pain. It didn't matter. Yamamoto would be here, either way.
Gokudera knew Yamamoto was smiling, even in the dark, and felt embarrassed by it. "...it's only 'cause it's cold. Idiot."
"Mmm," Yamamoto pressed a long, hard kiss onto Gokudera's forehead. In moments like these, where Gokudera was vulnerable, Yamamoto just wanted to hold him forever. It fascinated Yamamoto that even after everything he'd been through, Gokudera still managed to push on. Even when in a wheelchair, he still managed to cause all sorts of trouble. Even in a hospital gown, he still managed to scare Skull shitless. And even after a horrible nightmare, Gokudera still managed to look Yamamoto straight in the eyes, scowl like a cat, and tell him that he's an idiot. And that was the Gokudera that Yamamoto loved – his moody, 'pissy', rebellious, strong, broken, beautiful Gokudera.
Yamamoto knew he shouldn't, but he wanted to. And he really felt like kicking himself where it hurt for wanting to. Kiss Gokudera, that is.
Oh yes, he wanted to kiss Gokudera. So much. Especially when Gokudera was all curled up next to him on the bed like he was. Yamamoto wanted to kiss him to show him that he was there for him, to show Gokudera how much he meant to him, and that Yamamoto loved him. Because Yamamoto didn't think Gokudera knew. And it was hard because Gokudera was so close and smelled so good without the tobacco scent obscuring everything for once. Gokudera smelled like something lovely that Yamamoto couldn't quite place a finger on – a mixed scent of classic wooden pianos, the wind at the sea, the air after a storm.
Then on one of these nights Gokudera would be snuggled up to Yamamoto, lips right there, eyes closed, pressed up against him and just so damn tempting Yamamoto almost couldn't stop himself. But then, Yamamoto would see the rope marks, the cigarette burn, the bruises... and he knew he couldn't do it. Yamamoto knew better than anyone that it was the last thing Gokudera needed right now, and so, stuck to gentle kisses on Gokudera's hand, forehead, eyelids, shoulders... anywhere that wouldn't hurt and wouldn't trigger any memories from that horrible night.
"Baseball idiot," Gokudera tugged his shirt.
"Hm?" Yamamoto looked down into two half-lidded emerald eyes.
"I'm sleepy," Gokudera murmured.
Yamamoto smiled, trying not to notice Gokudera's parted lips, "Then sleep."
Gokudera looked hesitant. Afraid. "Don't want to."
"You don't have to," Yamamoto said easily. Gokudera usually falls asleep sooner or later in his arms anyways, so Yamamoto didn't have to pressure Gokudera into getting rest.
A moment later, Gokudera tugged him again. "Yamamoto."
"Hm?"
Gokudera paused, looking conflicted. Yamamoto noticed, and kissed the top of Gokudera's head reassuringly. Of course, a large part of it was because Yamamoto wanted to, but he had a feeling it comforted Gokudera too. And apparently, Yamamoto was right, because Gokudera relaxed enough to continue speaking. "Will you be here tomorrow?"
"Yeah," Yamamoto answered immediately. Then, as it sunk into him what Gokudera was really asking, he added with a warm smile. "I'll be here when you wake up, too."
Gokudera went silent at that. It took a while before he finally decided to close his eyes and rest against Yamamoto once again. In a small voice, Gokudera mumbled, "...then I guess I'll sleep."
And there Gokudera went again, being so damn adorable it hurt Yamamoto to restrain himself. But restrain Yamamoto did, as he tucked himself and Gokudera under the blankets, wrapped his arms around him and let him fall asleep. The nurse was probably going to scold him in the morning for being on the patient's bed again, but Yamamoto didn't care. Gokudera wanted him there, he wanted to be there, and that was that.
"Goodnight, Gokudera."
"...'night, baseball idiot."
Namimori High School, 4.19pm
Three days past, still no sign of Yamamoto. He didn't turn up for school, didn't call, didn't text. Hell, the idiot didn't even show up for baseball practice – now that was something.
Hibari was, for the second time, lost. And frustrated. And hurt. And, to be honest, rather bloody sick of it all. Hibari wasn't even trying to find out where Yamamoto was and what he was doing. He had done enough of that for Dino, and if Yamamoto thought Hibari was going to run around chasing after him, he had another thing coming. The Skylark was pissed off, and would remain so until he got a good whack at Yamamoto's face as soon as it showed up. It wasn't as though he was being unreasonable, either. Hibari knew he had moments when he could be... difficult. He lashed out in crowds. He broke into fights when he felt like it. He threw water in his father's fiancé's face. He 'bit people to death' for forgetting their school ties. What was currently going on, however, wasn't one of Hibari's 'moments'. This was completely, undoubtedly, justified anger.
It didn't help either that Hibari had to live in the school's boarding house. Being surrounded by 'crowding, brainless herbivores' twenty-four hours of the day was possibly the last thing the Skylark needed. But what choice did Hibari have? After Kaien slapped him sober and kicked him out of the house to 'reconsider his unacceptable behavior', there really wasn't any other place the Skylark had to go. Hibari would be damned to return to that bastard of a father. Plus, the teachers here adored – feared – him enough to give him extra freedom. And the dorms needed more discipline anyways. Things could be worse.
Or so Hibari tried to convince himself when a certain blonde Italian attempted, for the sixth time in three days, to visit him. By the seventh attempt, the Skylark had decided that, no, living in a restricted space filled with yelling monkeys was not the last thing Hibari needed – Dino Cavallone was.
And, damn, was the Bucking Bronco persistent.
What sort of name is that, anyway? 'Bucking Bronco'. Hibari frowned. Sounds like a bloody porn star. Couldn't his famiglia have come up with a better nickname for their future boss?
...pisses me off. Everything seemed to piss Hibari off, nowadays.
"Kyou-san, aren't you going to go down and meet him?" Kusakabe asked, watching Dino from the dorm window. "He's been waiting for you for two hours, at least."
"No," Hibari answered simply, focusing on feeding Hibird pieces of cereal bar.
Kusakabe didn't push the subject any further. His young master had been through a lot recently and Kusakabe knew it was only a matter of time before Hibari cracked under the pressure. Other people may see the Skylark as a character of strength, but Kusakabe had raised Hibari ever since he was a child. He remembered the way the seven year old Hibari would stand in silence with his head down when being told off by his father, clenched fists hidden beside his body. Then right afterwards, when Kaien was out of sight, the young Hibari would go into his training room and beat the punching bag until it burst. Kusakabe often found Hibari later crouching amongst the spilt sand with a red nose and red eyes, trying not to cry – and even then, the Skylark would try to hide away from him.
He was pretty sure the young master didn't realise it, but Kusakabe had always thought that Hibari's need to appear invincible rooted back to how Kaien raised him to be. Kusakabe also noticed that the Hibari father and son couple dealt with pain in an unnervingly similar manner. They don't talk about it, they don't show it, and they won't share it. Both Kaien and Kyouya preferred the unhealthy method of blocking out the problem before eventually forcing themselves to swallow it down – alone.
Dino Cavallone was the one who managed to – somewhat miraculously – make Hibari open up. And it was better for a while, but then – SNAP – the Italian disappeared. A year later, Yamamoto Takeshi came along and also appeared to have relieved some of the pain. And now – SNAP – he was also nowhere to be seen. Kusakabe was rather tired of these young men disappointing his young master. He was tired of seeing 'Kyou-san' disappointed. If only either of them would just get their act together...
"Kusakabe," Hibari was calling him.
"Yes, sir?"
"Your phone."
"Oh," Kusakabe did not notice that his cell phone had been flashing. He'd always kept it on complete silent mode around Hibari – not even on vibrate. "Excuse me, Kyou-san. I'll take the call outside."
"Hn," Hibari hummed his response, still not diverting his attention away from Hibird. Kusakabe saw it as the Skylark's way of not landing his attention on Dino. Not that he would ever, ever, mention that to Hibari.
Kusakabe exited the room, politely shutting the door behind him. He took the call.
"Hello?"
[Kusakabe Tetsuya? Hibari Kyouya's second in command?]
"Yes, speaking."
[I am Romario, Dino Cavallone's right hand man. My boss is sitting outside of your master's dormitory.]
"Ah. How can I help you?"
[I would like to propose a plan to resolve this problematic preposition between our respective bosses...]
Namimori High School, 4.27pm
Sawada Tsunayoshi was merely trying to be helpful. Ever since he heard about Gokudera's assault, Tsuna had been paying visits at the hospital every day. It was a good thing that Yamamoto was practically living there with Gokudera or else Tsuna would have freaked out every time he coincidentally ran into one of the Dynamite hospital gatherings. And since both Gokudera and Yamamoto were missing school, Tsuna had decided to make a good use of himself by bringing them catch-up work. Admittedly, it was Reborn-sensei who put the idea into his head, and Tsuna wasn't convinced Gokudera and Yamamoto were interested in doing the work anyway. Nevertheless, it was a good thought – and as Tsuna's mother often told him, it was the thought that counted.
Tsuna did not, however, anticipate that all of this 'good thinking' could lead him to this awkward, life-threatening situation. That is, standing outside of Hibari Kyouya's dorm room. And it frightened Tsuna to his bones because said Hibari Kyouya did not at all look like he was in a good mood as he loomed over the younger boy with dark, eagle-like eyes staring him down.
Hiee-! I should've suspected something when I saw Kusakabe-san down the hall! Why didn't Reborn warn me that the room I was supposed to get the catch-up papers from is Hibari-san's room?
"Sawada Tsunayoshi," Hibari had always had the intimidating skill of remembering every student's full name. "Why are you here?"
Tsuna swallowed, trying – and most likely failing – not to look like he just saw a ghost. "Ah- H-Hibari-san, R-Reborn-sensei told me to come get some catch-up papers for my absent classmates."
Oh, who am I kidding? Of course Reborn didn't warn me. I should've recognized that evil smirk of his when he told me the room number... that bastard.
"Hn. Come in then." Hibari nodded. It wasn't unusual for students to come ask him for papers, it was just that usually they would come to his office, not his bedroom. Apparently, it was some sort of strategy Reborn came up with to discourage students from skipping school – as most would prefer enduring a day of calculus than having to meet the head prefect of Namimori High.
"Oh. Um. Okay," Tsuna agreed, awkwardly stepping inside the room and not moving any further than that into Hibari's private space. As Tsuna self-consciously wondered where he was supposed to place his hands and where to look as to not come across as offensive, a thought popped into his head. "Oh, right, right! Hibari-san, there was this blonde foreign man downstairs who told me to tell you – I mean, if I saw you, to tell you – that he'll keep waiting until he sees you. His name is... um, something with a D. David? Daniel?"
"Dino." Hibari didn't realize he had snapped out the name until he saw Tsuna's stunned face.
"Ah, I'm sorry... I've never been very good with these sorts of things," Tsuna smiled sheepishly.
The younger boy's apologetic expression made Hibari feel somewhat uncomfortable. Yes, Hibari knew people were scared of him – it was only natural for herbivores to fear their natural predator – but Hibari didn't usually lash out at people for such petty matters. The Skylark almost felt... guilty. He didn't like it.
This is your fault, Yamamoto Takeshi. You did this.
And you, too, Dino Cavallone. You're to blame, too.
...and I guess, a bit of it is my fault, too. My fault for failing. My fault for falling.
"Sawada," Hibari began.
"Ah! Yes?"
"This absent classmate of yours..." Hibari couldn't stop himself from asking, "Does it happen to be Yamamoto Takeshi?"
"Oh, yes." Tsuna nodded, "Oh, and Gokudera-kun too. Gokudera Hayato."
Gokudera Hayato.
Hibari immediately frowned. Gokudera Hayato?
Feeling as though everything in his mind clicked at once, Hibari snatched out the list of absent students from his desk and hastily scanned the pages. Sure enough, for the past three days that Yamamoto was absent, Gokudera Hayato was absent as well.
Of course. How could I have missed this? Hibari was so frustrated at himself his nails were ripping the papers at the sides. He kept glaring at the names, and the inked letters seemed to be staring back at him, mocking him. He must've been too focused on the fact that Yamamoto was gone and too intent on hiding away from Dino that he skipped over every other name on the list. Damn. Damndamndamndamndamndamn-
"Uh... Hibari-san?" Tsuna nervously murmured, watching Hibari's fisting hands and all of a sudden realizing he might've just said something really, really stupid. Oh, how could I have been so dumb? I totally forgot Yamamoto was still with Hibari-san...
"Where are they?" Hibari's voice was a growl of a panther. A very, very pissed-off panther.
"Oh, um, they're both at the Namimori Hospital," Tsuna automatically responded, before he continued quickly, "But- uh, Hibari-san you should know, um, Gokudera-kun he- ah! Hibari-san!"
SLAM.
Tsuna was too late. Hibari had already disappeared through the door, leaving Tsuna there, dumbfounded, and wondering what the hell just happened. It wasn't the first time Tsuna decided he really needed to think more before he spoke.
Oh god, what have I just done...
Namimori Hospital, 5.18pm
Gokudera had a love-hate relationship with his wheelchair. Because it was still a struggle to walk due to the explicit pain on his backside, it was easier for Gokudera to move around with a wheelchair. The nurse even found him a special cushion to lessen the ache. But Gokudera despised feeling helpless, and whilst rolling around at hyper speed on the chair was pretty badass, Gokudera would much rather be able to walk on his own feet.
Sometimes, though, it wasn't so bad to let others take care of him for a little while – especially when cool stuff happened. Like when Spanner worked some mechanical magic on Gokudera's wheelchair and made it able to stand and hop around on only its back wheels. The nurse went insane over the little rebel hopping around all over the place – both Gokudera and Spanner found it hilarious.
Although he would never admit it, Gokudera did quite enjoy having people fuss around trying to please him. M.M. managed to sneak in Gokudera's cat, Uri, to see him. Skull, Spanner, Yamamoto and even Lancia all got on wheelchairs and had a big race with Gokudera down the hall – surprisingly, Yamamoto won. Lal gave Bianchi a call, and Gokudera recieved a long, much-needed conversation with his sister. Mukuro came along with Ken and Chikusa with the coolest, newest video games. Tsuna visited him daily and talked to him about their childhood.
Gokudera had never realized this many people cared about him, and unknowingly, the cold, gaping hole inside his chest was warming up just a little.
Even Yamamoto Tsuyoshi came in to sneak Gokudera some sushi. It was so thoughtful and kind of him that Gokudera envied Yamamoto for having such a wonderful dad. But Gokudera could never hold negative feelings against Yamamoto for long. Not when Yamamoto had been nothing but by his side during all of this. Not when Yamamoto was smiling – so warm and carefree Gokudera couldn't help but feel his own smile tugging at his lips. Not when Yamamoto pressed gentle kisses on Gokudera's skin. Not when Yamamoto's face was the first one he saw whenever he woke up from a nightmare, and not when it was in Yamamoto's arms that he could fall back to sleep. Not when Yamamoto was – simply – Yamamoto.
"Gokudera," Yamamoto's voice was a soft murmur near his ears, "Are you asleep?"
They were walking in the outdoor garden of Namimori Hospital. Or, rather, Yamamoto was pushing Gokudera along in his wheelchair in the garden. The silvernette occasionally allowed Yamamoto, and only Yamamoto, to do that. Gokudera never thought of himself as an 'outdoorsy' sort of person, but recently, he had come to enjoy being out in the open, breathing in fresh air and letting the warm evening sunlight shower over his skin. It came as no surprise to Gokudera why Yamamoto loved running around outside so much.
It's the same feeling I get when I'm around you.
"Nah," Gokudera sighed, "Just closing my eyes for a while."
Yamamoto pushed Gokudera into the shade before walking around the wheelchair to crouch before him, "Are you thinking of something?"
Yes. You. Somehow, my thoughts always find their way back to you. Or back to- Gokudera winced, trying to distract his mind from trailing down that lane. He had finally found some peace today, and he wasn't about to let himself ruin it. The night already tormented him plenty; he didn't need his daytime slowly opened his eyes, those emerald orbs falling on Yamamoto and shining beneath the shade. "Nothing in particular."
Yamamoto couldn't help but notice how beautiful Gokudera looked, with tiny rays of light and shadows of leaves on his face, emerald eyes gazing down at him. Naturally, Yamamoto took hold of Gokudera's hand and smiled, "Aw, really? Not even thinking of me?"
"Idiot. Get over yourself," Gokudera scoffed, though he couldn't help returning the smile. It was impossible. Gokudera attempted to blow it off by rolling his eyes.
Yamamoto laughed. It was becoming one of Gokudera's most favorite noises, and he had to close his eyes and let it sink in. When Yamamoto laughed, Gokudera was momentarily able to forget about the scars that littered his body – a quick escape that never lasted nearly long enough. Yamamoto had seen him go through his 'episodes' of night terrors, trembling, panic attacks, obsessive cleanings, and vomiting. But Gokudera hadn't shown him the worst of it – and he was determined never to do so. Yamamoto was as bright as sunlight and Gokudera, having lived most of his life in the dark, would never want to tamper with that. Yamamoto didn't need to know what haunted Gokudera's nightmares, or what dirtied his skin so much he felt the need to wash it for hours, or what went through his mind during each 'episode' – what Gokudera was reminded of. Yamamoto didn't need to know any of it.
If Yamamoto was trying to 'fix' him, then Gokudera would, in turn, protect Yamamoto from the ugly, ugly memories that lurked within him. Someone as goodhearted as Yamamoto should never get into the slightest contact with that dark, murky ooze.
Yamamoto was yawning. Gokudera reopened his eyes, "Sleepy?"
"Mm, just a little," Yamamoto rested his chin on Gokudera's knees, droopy eyes looking up at him like a puppy.
Gokudera squeezed Yamamoto's hand, mumbling, "...sorry."
"Hm? For what?"
"I keep waking you up every night."
"Gokudera," Yamamoto's eyes were suddenly very serious, "You don't ever have to apologize for me wanting to be with you. I'm here because I want to be here. I don't care how many nights of sleep I miss. I'll miss a hundred, a thousand more if I have to."
Gokudera wanted to believe him. And for a minute he almost did. But then, something caught him at the corner of his eyes – or, to be precise, someone. It was someone that reminded Gokudera that for all the time that Yamamoto was here, he still didn't belong to him; that whilst Yamamoto was the only person who meant this much to Gokudera, he wasn't the only one for Yamamoto; that Yamamoto would easily miss a thousand nights of sleep for another.
That 'someone' went by the name of Hibari Kyouya.
"Gokudera?" Yamamoto noticed the change in Gokudera's expression, "What's the matter? What are you staring-"
Yamamoto trailed off when he saw Hibari. The prefect was standing by a tree, far enough not to be easily found, but close enough to get a clear view of him and Gokudera. Yamamoto's heart fell to the ground.
Hibari was having a hurricane of emotions whacking through him, but he was doing a pretty damn good job of covering it all up. His eyes, however, were freezing and burning at the same time – like dry ice. If looks could kill, Yamamoto would be long dead. Buried and rotting in his coffin – or burned to ashes and floating amidst the sea. Yamamoto was quite sure Hibari didn't mind which way his corpse went at this point.
Nobody knew how long Hibari had been standing there, but once the Skylark realize he was seen, he stepped out from behind the tree and walked straight up to him, taking strong, firm strides towards his lover and the person his lover was having an affair with.
"Hibari..." Yamamoto's voice was weak. He stood up, half-blocking Gokudera from the prefect, and felt wobbly at the knees. He wasn't expecting this sort of confrontation, and he sure as hell wasn't ready for it; especially not in front of Gokudera.
"We need to talk," Hibari's voice was tight. He glanced down at Gokudera in the wheelchair briefly, then back at Yamamoto. "In private."
Yamamoto was at a loss. He just stood there, his mind completely blanking out on him, as he desperately tried to find the best way to get through with this. Yes, he knew he needed to give Hibari some sort of explanation. A lot of explanation. But at the same time, he didn't want to give Gokudera any wrong ideas by going off with Hibari. And he didn't want to have the conversation with Hibari in front of Gokudera, either. That would be horrible – in so many ways.
So Yamamoto just stood there like an idiot, looking at the floor as Hibari glared daggers at him.
Unexpectedly, it was Gokudera who broke the stalemate.
"Go," was one word Gokudera said, his emerald eyes not looking at anyone in particular.
Yamamoto immediately turned to Gokudera in alarm, "But, Gokudera-"
"Go." Gokudera did look at him this time, and those deep green eyes were hard as stone. "I'm fine. Go."
Yamamoto had learnt in the past few days that Gokudera saying 'I'm fine' actually meant the complete opposite. But, right now, the baseball player did not have any other choice. If he stayed, both Gokudera and Hibari would've murdered him with their eyes. So with one last backward glance at Gokudera, who avoided his gaze, Yamamoto nodded at Hibari and they walked away – tense air lingering between them like a fog.
Gokudera was left in his wheelchair, watching their backs go and wondering what he had ever done to deserve this. And as the terrible monsters began crawling back into his mind, Gokudera stopped thinking altogether.
"Yamamoto. Will you break things off with him if I give you one more chance?"
"..."
"Say it. Promise you'll break it off for good."
"...I promise."
"Hn... I'll forgive you just this once."
Hibari felt like a fool. Maybe he was a fool. Or maybe he only fell for a fool.
Either way, it didn't matter, because he felt awful. Not only for what Yamamoto did to him, but for what they were doing to Gokudera. By now, Hibari had found out about what happened to Gokudera, and it would be wrong to say that he felt no sympathy towards the silvernette sitting in the wheelchair, a bruise covering half his face and his neck. In fact, Hibari almost felt guilty for dragging Yamamoto away from him. And he hated it. He didn't want to feel guilty – he didn't need to feel guilty. Hibari did nothing to deserve the guilt – he was the one who was cheated on. He was the one lied to. He was the one Yamamoto broke his promise to.
It wasn't fair. Just because something terrible happened to Gokudera didn't mean Hibari's feelings didn't matter. It didn't make his pain any less real. But as the Skylark stood there, staring at Yamamoto's sad face, Hibari just felt so stupid. Gokudera was raped, and here Hibari was, crying foul and pointing fingers at Yamamoto for being there for a rape victim.
What is wrong with me?
...maybe this is why people keep leaving. Hibari was bitter. He was hurting and he couldn't show any of it because it would just make him feel so selfish. And it wasn't fair. Hibari was allowed to be hurt. Hibari was allowed to be furious. His anger was well-justified – right up until a nurse informed him that Gokudera was in the psychiatric ward for Rape Trauma Syndrome. It was like someone poured ice water right over his head.
Yamamoto and Hibari stood there behind the hospital building for a long time, in complete silence – Hibari looking at Yamamoto and Yamamoto looking at the floor.
"So," Hibari was the first to break conversation, "You've got nothing to say?"
Yamamoto began to say something, but Hibari cut him off. "And don't even think about apologizing, Yamamoto Takeshi, because I am sick of it. I'm sick of hearing your pathetic excuses. I'm sick of that guilty face. I'm just... sick of this. I'm sick of feeling like this."
Yamamoto looked torn, "Hibari, I'm so sorr-"
"Don't." Hibari spoke sharply, "I just told you not to apologize. I don't want to hear it. I don't want to forgive you. You can't belittle what you've done with stupid apologies. It won't work."
"...I know," Yamamoto nodded – which took Hibari by surprise. Yamamoto went on, "You told me I had one more chance and I went and blew it all up. I know I can't ask you to forgive me."
And there Yamamoto went, making the guilt land on Hibari once again. If Yamamoto had acted all idiotic and cried and begged for forgiveness like last time it would have been so much easier. But no, Yamamoto just had to turn up all understanding and looking like his heart was breaking.
It really wasn't fair. Hibari was the one whose heart was bursting. He turned away, determined to keep his cool, "You could've at least told me what was going on. What did you think I was going to do, Yamamoto? Come to the hospital and beat Gokudera Hayato up? Snatch you away from him?"
Yamamoto stared at Hibari, dumbfounded. He had to admit part of him did imagine that would be something Hibari would've done – and then it occurred to Yamamoto that by simply having that thought, he wasn't giving Hibari any respect. And Yamamoto knew Hibari better than that. By god, he knew Hibari so much better than that.
"I wasn't thinking," Yamamoto confessed quietly, "I... I just couldn't leave him."
"But you could leave me," Hibari stated matter-of-factly, and then felt an unexpected clench in his chest. An unexpectedly painful clench.
Yamamoto's eyes widened, "No. No. Oh god, Hibari, it's not like that..."
"That's exactly what it is," and with every sentence he spoke, a dagger ripped at Hibari's heart, "You could leave me, but you couldn't leave him. That makes it pretty clear what's going on."
"No, Hibari," Yamamoto shook his head, "I didn't mean it that way. I didn't-"
"What did you mean, then?" Hibari snapped back at him, "You left me after a night like that, and then you disappear for three days. And I get that you were with him, I can't blame you for that. But couldn't you have at least texted me? It's not that hard, isn't it? If you had respected me enough – if you cared enough, you would've done it. But you didn't."
"But what was I supposed to say?" Yamamoto shot back, "I just promised you I wouldn't come back to him. But I did. And I didn't want to tell you over the phone. I know you hate doing things over the phone."
"Then you should also know that I hate being treated like a fool – and that was how you treated me," Hibari's eyes were growing colder.
Yamamoto rolled in his lips, "I didn't have a choice-"
"No." Hibari immediately glared at him, "Don't you dare say you didn't have a choice. The choice was yours, and you chose to sneak out of the room and never see my face again."
"Hibari-"
"You chose him over me," Hibari's voice cracked at this point, and he mentally kicked himself for it.
Yamamoto took a deep breath, "What happened to Gokudera, I-"
"I know what happened to him," Hibari interrupted. Of course he knew – the selfish feeling was eating him up on the inside. However, that didn't help the ache get better. Hibari looked Yamamoto straight in the eye, "But even if it didn't happen, you can't say you wouldn't go back to him anyway."
Yamamoto stared at him, looking pained.
"Can you?" Hibari pressed.
Yamamoto fell silent and averted his gaze.
"...thought so," Hibari began moving away, but Yamamoto grabbed his hand.
"Wait," Yamamoto's voice was pleading, "Kyouya."
Hibari bit his lip, turning around to face Yamamoto one more time. "I need time to think. You need to figure out what the hell you want to do with your life. Until then, I don't want to see your face."
"Kyouya..." Yamamoto had that look on his face again, that sorrowful look that always managed to change Hibari's mind. But this time, the Skylark wasn't going to stand it. He wasn't even going to look at it.
Hibari shook Yamamoto's hand off him and walked away, taking long, definite strides – head and eyes looking straight forward.
...it wasn't until Hibari turned a corner and was out of Yamamoto's sight that he let a single tear slip down his cheek.
Namimori Hospital, 5.59pm
It took Yamamoto five calls of his name and three nudges before Gokudera acknowledged his presence. Then, another minute until the look of alarm disappeared from the silvernette's face.
"You're back," Gokudera sounded relieved – too relieved, as though Yamamoto had just pulled him out of water. Gokudera glanced at the Hospital's clock tower, "That took some time."
"...sorry," Yamamoto murmured weakly. It seemed to be the only thing he could say nowadays, and even he was getting sick hearing himself say it. Yamamoto sat down on a bench opposite Gokudera's wheelchair and sighed heavily.
"It didn't go well?" Gokudera raised an eyebrow, watching Yamamoto's worn-out face.
"No," Yamamoto lifted a hand to his forehead, "No."
Gokudera nodded slowly, "...and you didn't break things off with him, either."
"No," Yamamoto said again. "But we're taking... a break."
"A 'break', huh," Gokudera repeated, his eyes looking at somewhere far away, "For how long?"
"I don't know," Yamamoto shook his head before he paused, and looked up at Gokudera, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't be telling you this. You have enough to deal with as it is."
"Oh, no, it's fine," Gokudera waved it off almost automatically, his eyes going blank, "It'd be nice to know how long I'll have you until you go running back to him."
"Hey," Yamamoto took Gokudera's hand into his clasp, "Who said I'll leave you?"
"Who said you wouldn't?" Gokudera questioned in return.
Yamamoto squeezed his hand, "I'm here with you right now, not him. Doesn't that mean something?"
Gokudera didn't answer that one. It wasn't a first – recently, Gokudera often didn't reply to a lot of things. However, Yamamoto was quite certain this one was intentional. There was a look in those emerald eyes of his that let Yamamoto know that Gokudera's awareness wasn't diminished at this moment.
Yamamoto lifted Gokudera's hand to his lips and kissed the back of it gently, "You wanna go back inside?"
"Yeah, sure," Gokudera shrugged.
The wheeling trip up the building back into Gokudera's private hospital room was silent. Yamamoto felt that Gokudera wasn't in the mood to talk, so he didn't initiate conversation. Gokudera seemed to be immersed in deep thought, and it wasn't a look of fear he had on his face. Gokudera just looked like Gokudera, thinking. Thus, Yamamoto let him be.
Once they got to the room, Gokudera climbed onto his bed, and Yamamoto went to pour them both a glass of water. Yamamoto offered the glass to Gokudera, but he didn't take it. Instead, those emerald eyes just kept looking at him, searching him.
"What is it?" Yamamoto wanted to know.
Gokudera narrowed his eyes and landed the bomb, "You fucked him, didn't you?"
CRASH.
The glass slipped right from Yamamoto's hand.
What.
"Wha-?" Yamamoto was gaping. What?
Gokudera briefly glanced at the broken glass, the back at Yamamoto, "Hibari Kyouya – the school's head prefect. You fucked him."
"What...?" Yamamoto repeated. His head had gone completely white in shock. All he could think of was how empty Gokudera's eyes were. Gokudera's expression was so lifeless at this point he might as well had been a statue.
"Do I need to spell it out for you?" Gokudera sighed, "You fucked him. Slept with him. Did the dirty. Made love. Whatever you wanna call it."
Gokudera looked absolutely unaffected by his own words and it made Yamamoto feel sick to his gut. This was the worst possible thing that could happen at this moment – and how Gokudera was handling all of it with such indifference was horrifying. It was as though Gokudera's soul – what Yamamoto had loved most about him – had been sucked out of his body, ripped from its shell. All that is left is an emotionless, unfeeling, talking doll.
If this was what rape had done to Gokudera, Yamamoto swore he would send Takumi to the deepest depths of hell with his own bare hands.
"I thought the love bite on your neck was mine," Gokudera continued in a detached way. "But when that prefect showed up today, I figured it wasn't. And then I just... knew."
Gokudera shrugged. Then, he grabbed the other glass of water from Yamamoto's hand and drank it down as though they were having a completely normal conversation.
"Gokudera..." Yamamoto breathed his name, wishing it would bring back some sort of emotion – any emotion – back into those emerald eyes. Anything would do. Gokudera could punch Yamamoto, throw the glass at him, scream, yell, cry at him – anything. Anything would be better than having to look into those dead eyes.
"Don't look so sad. I expected it to hurt much more, but it actually doesn't hurt at all. Isn't that strange?" Gokudera had a lopsided smile on his face which didn't touch his eyes, "Maybe when you've been through hell and back, nothing really hurts anymore? That must be it, because I feel fine."
"Gokudera," Yamamoto shook his head.
"I feel fine," Gokudera's smile slowly melted off his face, "...I feel fine."
There was silence. Yamamoto was waiting for Gokudera to come back to life, and Gokudera was waiting to be brought back to life. They were waiting for something that wasn't returning anytime soon.
As Gokudera played with his fingers absentmindedly, a thought occurred to him. "Now that I think about it, I don't remember you having that kiss mark before I was brought here."
Yamamoto froze. No. Not this. He can't know about this.
Gokudera saw the look on Yamamoto's face, and his eyes became stony. "Tell me, Yamamoto-"
Please. Don't let him figure this out. Don't let him realize...
"-did it happen on that same night?"
Gokudera's eyes were intense and unblinking.
Yamamoto didn't want to tell him. He didn't want Gokudera to know how much wrong he had committed, how undeserving of Gokudera he was. He didn't want Gokudera to find out the unforgivable reason why he wasn't there for Gokudera that night. But most of all, he didn't want to lose Gokudera – and that was almost certain to happen if Gokudera knew.
He won't forgive me. He will never forgive me. Not for this.
But despite all that, Yamamoto owed Gokudera the truth. After everything he had put Gokudera through, he owed Gokudera any and all answers the silvernette wanted. And if that meant Yamamoto would lose him, then there was nothing he could say. He did this to himself – all the better if the pain killed him from the inside – Yamamoto deserved it.
The greedy fisherman who grabbed two fish instead of one ended up losing both. And in his desperation to grasp for them the fisherman lost balance, fell off his boat, and broke his neck.
"Yes," Yamamoto's voice was barely above a whisper. He couldn't meet Gokudera's eyes as he stood there, waiting for Gokudera to tell him to get the hell out – waiting for Gokudera to tell him they were over. It felt as though Gokudera held a gun to Yamamoto's skull, ready to blow out his brains, ready to end his life with one move.
But to Yamamoto's utter shock, Gokudera started chuckling. At first, Yamamoto thought he was imagining things – the fear of losing Gokudera must have made him delusional. But when Yamamoto looked up on the bed, Gokudera really was sitting there, chuckling in his throat, a bitter grin on his face.
"Well, isn't that bloody brilliant," Gokudera's low chuckle gradually increased into forced-hysterical-laughter, "The irony is fantastic. Just fantastic, isn't it?"
Yamamoto stared at Gokudera, speechless. He really could not decipher what Gokudera found so amusing.
"Who would've thought?" Gokudera was still laughing hysterically, "On a night that I was raped, you were fucking him. And all the time that I was looking for you, you weren't even thinking of me. But hey, at least we were both bloody getting some, eh?"
In the past three days, Yamamoto wanted badly for Gokudera to be able to laugh again – and now that he was actually doing it, Yamamoto just wanted to clasp a hand over Gokudera's mouth to make him stop.
"Oh, oh, and you know what the funniest part is?" Gokudera's lips stretched across his face in a dreadful smile that clashed harshly with the glare of his eyes, "If that bastard didn't force his cock up my ass, you would still be fucking Hibari Kyouya mindless."
"Gokudera," Yamamoto gripped Gokudera's wrist, but Gokudera kept on laughing.
"It's because I'm raped that you're even here at all! Won't you just look at that? Brilliant! Why, you know what they say: every dark cloud has a silver lining. Well guess what, I think I just landed myself a motherfucking rainbow!"
"Gokudera, stop that-"
"Man, I probably even owe that lowlife a favor for bringing you back to me. Oh, oh! I know – maybe next time you think about going back to that prefect, I should just run off to Takumi to get my ass rammed in again! How about that? Bloody genius, isn't it? Who would've thought being raped could be so-"
BANG.
Yamamoto slammed his fist into the wall, right beside Gokudera's head. His jaw was clenched and his chocolate eyes were dark. Yamamoto inhaled deeply, trying to control his anger. How the hell could he talk about it like that? How the hell could he think of himself that way? The fact that Gokudera could easily spout self-degrading nonsense and make a joke out of his own suffering made Yamamoto's blood boil with fury.
By this time, Gokudera had shut up, laughter completely silenced, all amusement snapped out of him. Then, almost immediately after, Gokudera crumbled right in front of Yamamoto's eyes. It was the most terrible thing Yamamoto had ever witnessed. At first, Gokudera's lips trembled, then his shoulders hunched up, his eyes squeezed shut, and then he brought his arms to his face as he finally broke down. Gokudera's frail, abused body weakly curled in on itself as the silvernette sobbed helplessly into his own hands.
Yamamoto felt blood drain out of his heart. "Oh god, Gokudera..."
Gokudera cried like a child. His entire form shook and heaved with hitching breaths and choked sobs, and his fingers quivered uncontrollably. Yamamoto had never seen Gokudera break down to this extent – and he couldn't stand watching it happen. Yamamoto climbed onto the bed and pulled Gokudera's powerless body into his arms, holding him as close as physically possible. Gokudera clung to him like a drowning man and continued sobbing, loud and hopeless, with not a single ounce of energy left in him to hold back any longer.
I'm an idiot. Yamamoto thought to himself. How could I not have known that Gokudera had been holding back all of this? The emotionless mask Gokudera put up was only a barrier to protect himself from experiencing this torment. I was being careless. I should've seen this coming.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to shock you," Yamamoto smoothed Gokudera's hair with one hand, rubbing his arm soothingly with another. "I'm just... I can't believe you would think like that."
"I-It's o-okay," Gokudera's breath hitched, "You c-can go back to Hi-Hibari. J-just because s-something like that h-happened, doesn't mean you h-have to be here..."
Yamamoto frowned, "No, Gokudera, you don't get it. I'm not here because I feel 'responsible'. I'm here because I want to be here. I want to be here for you. I want to see you get better. I want to help you. I want to be with you."
Gokudera cried harder, "That night, I k-kept looking for you... but you-"
"I'm sorry," Yamamoto kissed the top of Gokudera's head, "I was with him, I know. I'm sorry. If I had known – if I could rewind it all and change things then I would've taken you home that day, and I would've stayed with you until your fever got better, and none of this would've happened. But I can't change what I've done wrong, Gokudera. And no matter how many times I say sorry I won't ever be able to make it up to you. But still, I'm selfish enough to want to be with you now."
"You'll end up going b-back to him," Gokudera clutched onto Yamamoto's shoulders, "And I c-can't- I can't take any-bloody-more. I-If you leave one more time..."
"I'm not going anywhere," Yamamoto murmured, wiping the tears from Gokudera's face softly with his thumb.
"You can't promise me that!" Gokudera burst out. He hit Yamamoto's chest with his fist, "You s-suck at promises, Yamamoto. You suck, you suck, you suck..."
Yamamoto gently tucked Gokudera's arms away and instead, held Gokudera closer and pressed a warm kiss onto his cheek. "If you want me to leave right now, I'll go. I don't want to, but I'll go. Honestly, it might be better for you, too."
"No," Gokudera paused, taking a deeper breath, "Stay. I'll be the goddamn judge to what's better for me."
"But I can't promise-"
"Next time you leave, I'll beat you up and shut you out for good. You'll never see me again. If you come back, I'll get Dynamite to deal with you," Gokudera said, face serious, teary eyes determined.
"Gokudera..." Yamamoto's eyes softened, "...why are you so convinced I'll leave?"
"Because," Gokudera began, "I'm a wreck. A total bloody wreck. And you might think you can 'fix' me and all, but I'll never be complete enough for you. You can't keep wasting your bright, wonderful life on a screw-up like me. I'd just keep dragging you down. Eventually, you'll have to leave."
Gokudera said that with such belief in his words that Yamamoto wanted to sigh in exasperation. How can he not understand? Even after all this time, how can he still not realize that I love him more for all of his flaws? How can he not see that I want him for everything that he is?
"Hayato," Yamamoto began, causing Gokudera's eyes to flicker up at him in surprise at use of his name.
I'm not trying to fix you so that you'll be a perfect, flawless doll. I'm only trying to heal your fresh wounds. Your scars are part of who you are and I will never want to change that. Don't you know this? And do you know why?
"What?" Gokudera sniffed, meeting Yamamoto's eyes in confusion.
Of course not – you don't know. You have no clue. Because you seem to be accustomed to the idea that nobody cares about you – that nobody could ever love you. I don't know who ever implanted that awful idea into your head, but it's not true.
And you need to know that.
Yamamoto smiled warmly at Gokudera, just as he did the first time they met. Even with deeper bruises, more scars, and even more damage to his already broken self, Gokudera was still so beautiful.
You said I suck at keeping promises. Well, I swore I would try to fix you. This is me, finally keeping to at least one of my promises.
Yamamoto looked straight into those emerald eyes to make sure Gokudera understood every single word he said – and to make sure he knew that Yamamoto spoke it with complete and utter honesty.
Dark chocolate brown eyes seemed to deepen as they melted into opposing emerald pools – completely mesmerized by the forever-present shattered look hidden behind them. Perhaps they have been captivated by them ever since the first time they met.
Rain started pouring outside of the window, but all Gokudera could hear was Yamamoto's voice.
"Hayato, I love you."
A/N: First L-bomb of this fic! I'd say it took them long enough :D Actually, this chapter was meant to be longer – containing more content and moving on further with the plot – but I guess I got carried away a bit and drabbled on too much again :P
This update took 2 weeks. I'm proving a point here. You guys reviewed more, so you got your update faster :D It's a fair deal, don't you think? Oh, and all of you especially have Phoenix of Starlight – who probably showered me with a total of over 5000 words of review – to thank for this update being two weeks earlier than the early-date!
Thank you for all your continuous support! Me lubs you all :D *cuddles*