Back from the dead again: 8059 fanfiction
Title: Stella Cadente
Pairing: YamaxGoku
Rating: Pg-13
Summary: The oncoming summer boasts an array of unyielding promises. Spirited and care-free, Yamamoto finds himself awkwardly growing closer to the aloof, hot-tempered Gokudera. But what does Gokudera truly think of him? As secrets and crushes abound, Takeshi Yamamoto’s greatest wish might just be riding on a shooting star…
Author’s note: This is a story that fabricates Amano’s Katekyo Hitman Reborn!, with due respect. I don’t own any of the characters or the original story.
Just one shooting star.
That’s all I need to make a wish.
Just one,
Brilliant flame riding across the darkness,
Is enough,
That is, if it can grant anything at all--
I want to be granted everlasting contentment,
An escape from this insecurity of childhood,
And an eternal place beside the one I love.
If not today,
If not tomorrow--
In the future!
Part One: Ansietà
The month of July had flown in without warning. Summer quietly yet brutally descended on the manic Namimori ward of Tokyo. There was an air of peacefulness despite the advancing heat. It was the kind of sloth that could be appreciated and celebrated with a nice ice cold drink and a fine seat beneath an air-conditioner. Things seemed to move in slow motion (if not dying of dehydration from the heat). Still, the youth of Namimori welcomed the sweaty season with open arms and so did the adults. Yet there was a certain something lingering in the whimsical atmosphere….
A great cloud of steam swirled out from the Takesushi restaurant. It was followed by the mouthwatering aroma of thawed, seasoned tuna and sushi. It was also the ecstatic home of the Yamamoto family. Tsuyoshi Yamamoto, the undaunted head of the restaurant and the household hummed a cheerful song as he tossed and stir fried some vegetables in preparation for supper. Mr. Yamamoto hadn’t always been upbeat. At another point in time he’d been an entirely different sort man. But the past didn’t count much anymore, he supposed. A broad smile gracing his face, Mr. Yamamoto took a moment to truly admire his restaurant-home and the stifling breath of summer that bristled through. He shared this place with his only son and child, Takeshi Yamamoto. They were an average, dynamic duo of father and son, but there had once been a time when they were a trio. Those days were long gone, but not forgotten.
Mr. Yamamoto put down his cooking utensils and sipped from his lukewarm tea. A little break was best. He went upstairs, moving from the restaurant to the homely part of the foundation. He sat in his small, but comforting living room. It lacked most creature comforts, taking on a slightly more traditional atmosphere. He sat before an alter decorated with many memories--precious photographs and folkloric knickknacks. Crowning the alter was a fairly sizable picture of the late Mrs. Yamamoto. Her bright eyes--ever enthusiastic and her loving smile--reached across time. Once upon a time, she’d changed his entire life. He’d adored her. Takeshi had too. He missed her smile and her laughter, but never felt the desire to lament or regret anything. After all, she’d never really left their side. Or at least Mr. Yamamoto felt that way in heart and spirit.
How many years had it been? Time had gone by so swiftly. Takeshi wasn’t a kid anymore. Their son now helped his father to run the restaurant on a daily basis while balancing academics and his never-ending love of baseball. Mr. Yamamoto couldn’t be more proud. However…
This summer, just like its predecessors was going to be important. With *Obon approaching as quickly as it was, Mr. Yamamoto somehow felt pressed for time. He wanted the best for Takeshi, but they both seemed trapped in each and every summer that passed, especially Takeshi himself.
“That time’s approaching again, isn’t it?” Mr. Yamamoto asked aloud.
Mrs. Yamamoto was silent. Like always, she only smiled in response.
“I know I shouldn’t dawdle. You wouldn’t approve. But I’m still concerned for our Takeshi. He takes after you so much and he’s already gotten so big!” He said, cheerfully toasting to her memory.
He was going to have to remind Takeshi about Obon. He felt guilty. With each summer, his son appeared to be more and more cheerful. Mr. Yamamoto wasn’t so easily fooled. That was Takeshi’s way of hiding things. Lately, though, he couldn’t tell. His son loved baseball more than anything and the love affair wasn’t going to end anytime soon. Therefore, his son was becoming even more difficult to figure out. Mr. Yamamoto sighed. Memories were indeed important, but he didn’t have the heart to reopen an old wound that had only begun to heal.
“You know, parents understand their kids a lot better when they’re just kids. Then time flies and they start to change on you. Takeshi changed so much. I understood him a lot better when he was this high…” Mr. Yamato motioned toward the photograph. “Why do kids have to grow up? It’s a little heartbreaking, you know.”
Silence.
The bells outside the sliding window chimed just beyond its rice paper screen. It was almost evident. This summer was bringing with it a promise. For better or worse? Mr. Yamamoto had no way of knowing.
“This summer may just end up like all the rest, but I still have hope for him. I know I’m a worrywart, but…it’s still going to be difficult for him to overcome.”
Mrs. Yamamoto continued to smile. She had all the answers, but left the truth up to her husband. It was funny how the dead seemed to know a heck of a lot more than the living…
Takeshi Yamamoto smiled proudly as he dropped his bat, watching as the ball vanished into the sky. The ball landed beyond its foul point--a great stretch of distance from Namimori’s baseball field. He’d been practicing for the summer tournaments since the end of winter and was quite sure that he was now well prepared. He flexed his arm and sat down on the dusty batter’s plate. Savoring the warm winds, he closed his eyes feeling well accomplished.
His thoughts drifted to Tsuna and the others. Although he thoroughly enjoyed their games together, the idea of them being a “real” mafia was silly. He wondered if the Sawada family would be planning a summer vacation. Baseball tournaments wouldn’t begin until late in the summer. He had ample amounts of time to spend with them. He also thought of Hayato Gokudera. He found himself thinking about the hot-tempered boy a lot lately. Gokudera who was unreasonable, aloof, and yet somehow inspiring never strayed far from his thoughts. Feeling his heart pound, Takeshi tried to clear his head. He couldn’t let his concentration slip.
Hayato Gokudera…
Feeling a familiar presence pass over him with the wind, he peered into the sky. He could remember sitting beneath the same sky more than eight years ago as a helpless boy. There’d been a sky full of shooting stars back then. Instead of simply wishing on one, he’d attempted to strike them all down with just a baseball and a bat. If he could’ve struck down just one, he might’ve saved his mother for an early death. Kids were like that, though--always wishing. He wasn’t a kid anymore, but he wasn’t an adult either. Childhood was a long and winding path that seemed to stretch on, lugging all of its own insecurities along. Takeshi wasn’t insecure. He was just good at hiding all of his fears. The absence of his mother was the greatest kink in his armor. He’d hidden it so well behind his passion for baseball that it almost eluded him. But it was there. If he’d been just a little stronger back then…
That’s why he worked so hard for his father, for his friends…He didn’t have time for regret. Yet it always found time for him. He couldn’t let anyone notice, not even his father. Not even himself. Wounds were supposed to heal with time, weren’t they? He tried to remember his mother’s smile. The lovable prankster, sports fanatic, and folklorist that she was--she’d been the one to inspire his love of baseball. She’d named him too--as a joke after their family’s sushi restaurant. She loved to laugh and tell stories. She’d told him an old adage about a shooting star. He believed it back then. Somehow, he still believed it:
“Stars surround us all the time, even when we can’t see them. They are many things. They are spirits, beacons, and most of all they represent hearts. When a star falls it can also be a painful thing. That’s why you have to make a wish as soon as you see one. Turn your heart into a fist! Give it all that you have! If you can strike down just one, your wishes will come true. I promise…”
He could still remember the way that she smiled as she said that. Afterwards, she’d taken him into her arms and laughed aloud. So full of energy and life…
“Give it all that I’ve got, huh? I’ll keep trying.” Takeshi said, suppressing the doubt he felt.
He’d been wishing ever since that night, even at the funeral that followed. He was still wishing even now.
Watching the lonesome baseball fanatic from the stands was a quiet and gentle spectator. According to her given schedule, she’d arrived a little too early, but couldn’t resist. Her smile widened. As she admired Namimori’s finest champion of baseball, she felt her heart soaring…
Summer vacation began a little later on that afternoon. School was officially out and would be for the next two months. As crowds of giddy teenagers poured out of Namimori Jr. High, Takeshi immediately rushed toward the Sawada’s. He couldn’t wait to see Tsuna and the rest of the family, especially Gokudera. His heart beat hard against his ribs as he ran along a maze of concrete sidewalks and streets. When he arrived, he was wholeheartedly greeted by Tsuna, who was relieved to be rid of school at last, at least for the summer. Nana Sawada eagerly offered him some lemonade, which he would’ve accepted if Lambo and I-Pin hadn’t intercepted it. They were scolded by Tsuna (whom they always ignored when they weren’t terrorizing him--and they were very good at doing both at once).
Takeshi hadn’t minded at all. Haru and Kyoko offered him some freshly backed cookies which also ended up being stolen. The two girls then sparked a cheerful argument over what they might replace those half-burnt cookies with. (It was Haru’s fault. She’d insisted on extra oven time with EXTRA love). The last thing he was offered was a cold glass of milk, which he would’ve protected with his life--milk being his utmost favorite beverage. Takeshi calmly stepped aside to avoid Ryohei’s EXTREME fists of joy and a broken nose--a casual, but rather rough greeting. He also managed to avoid being struck by a grenade, ducking just in time as Lambo aimed at the stoic, capricious Reborn. Takeshi effortlessly avoided being set on fire as Reborn retaliated with a flame torch he’d retrieved from virtually nowhere. Caught in the crossfire, Tsuna wasn’t so fortunate. Takeshi tried to cheer the boy up as he whined about his third-degree burns, but it didn’t help. Tsuna’s insistent bellyaching only resulted in him being reprimanded by Reborn.
“No-Good Tsuna! Vongola bosses don’t cry over little scratches.” Reborn said coolly, even though it was a heck of a lot more than just “a little scratch”.
Mrs. Sawada continued to serve lemonade, oblivious to the chaos around her. Yes, the Sawada household was as lively as ever. Everyone quieted down as Mrs. Sawada announced that they’d all be vacationing on a luxury cruise ship out in the Mediterranean. Of course, this was all made possible by the rather suspicious courtesy of Reborn. Everyone cheered. I-Pin and Lambo scampered around excitedly, stampeding over all in their path. Tsuna, however, wasn’t so quick to celebrate. Something didn’t quite sit right with this. Reborn was definitely planning torment him. He could feel it. This so-called vacation was bound to add insult to injury.
Takeshi was delighted by the idea. He’d been on a cruise ship once before with Reborn and the Sawada family. He’d found it to be highly amusing and could hardly resist a second endeavor. Having gone to retrieve some bandages for Tsuna’s wounds, Takeshi returned. He was still a little disappointed to find that Gokudera hadn’t made an appearance yet. He was usually always the first to be seen in the Sawada household.
As he proceeded to treat Tsuna’s wounds, his eardrums were suddenly rattled by a loud, horrible wailing. Looking over his shoulder, Takeshi glanced Bianchi smothering Reborn against her bosom and weeping dramatically. Somehow, between that horrible wailing and Reborn’s indifference he came to understand that both Bianchi and Gokudera were to return to Italy ASAP. It wasn’t the impending departure itself that bothered her. It was being separated from Reborn. Everyone knew that she loved the miniature hit man to pieces and couldn’t live without him (although this didn’t change the fact that the whole affair seemed one-sided). At the melodramatic news, Takeshi felt his heart sinking. He’d hoped to spend time with Gokudera too.
Excusing himself from the room, Takeshi walked outside to find the missing Gokudera leaning against a post and smoking. Entirely aloof, his silver eyes were cast toward the sky. The wind stirred his natural, platinum-colored hair and detoured the smoke from his cigarette. Takeshi’s heart nearly skipped a beat. He hadn’t expected to find him so easily. They acknowledged each other wordlessly. Takeshi stood beside him, watching the clouds roll sluggishly across the sky.
“You’re going home to Italy?” Takeshi asked, breaking the silence. “I was hoping that you’d come along on that cruise with us.”
“It’s none of your business. Just some family matters.” Gokudera replied bluntly.
Takeshi hadn’t overlooked the doubt that glistened in those silver eyes. He didn’t want to pry, but he couldn’t help feeling concerned.
“I’ll leave the tenth with you. He’d better not get a single scratch on him! I’m still his right-hand man, but you’ll have to stand in for me, got it baseball idiot?” Gokudera said, masking his doubt with a challenge.
Takeshi nodded in agreement. “If you say so, then I won’t argue.” He answered. Seeing Gokudera act like his usual self was comforting.
Gokudera paused. He was surprised by the contentment in the other’s voice. “You could at least argue with me, Yamamoto. You really are pathetic!” Truthfully, the response was sort of flattering. There was something about the way that baseball idiot spoke that eased his doubts. But he’d never admit this even if he were tortured.
Secretly, Bianchi watched the pair from the window. She knew that Gokudera would resent the idea of returning to Italy, to their father. But it couldn’t be helped. She didn’t blame her kid brother either. Their father wasn’t the most loving man in the world. For Gokudera, it was definitely something to be dreaded. Unlike her, he didn’t have any found memories of living in Italy with their father, but the man was much too powerful to be ignored. Not even his own children were exempt from his tyranny. Bianchi sighed. She’d at least give her brother until sunset to clear his head. She blinked in surprise. Yamamoto and her brother gone off together somewhere beyond the Sawada home. She didn’t worry, though. Somehow, she felt that Gokudera needed someone to talk to--a necessity he rarely needed. Bianchi smiled to herself. Somehow, she felt that something was beginning…
“The sun’s going to set soon…” Takeshi murmured as they walked around a deserted park. The air cooled a little. The feeling of the wind as it passed over them, lifted his spirits a little. “Is there something bothering you?”
Gokudera narrowed his eyes. “I said it’s none of your business!” He snapped. “Anyway. I should be heading back. There’s plane’s waiting for--” He trailed off at the expression on Yamamoto’s face. His eyes saw right through him. It wasn’t exactly uncomfortable, but it was downright annoying.
“If there’s something troubling you then…” Takeshi began, closing the distance between them.
Gokudera felt himself blushing. Yamamoto was uncommonly close. It was both annoying and inviting. The silver haired boy froze, unsure of what to expect yet expecting something all at once.
“If there’s something bothering you then…” Takeshi continued…
Gokudera felt his eyelids fluttering shut. Could it be? Was Yamamoto going to…?!
“Then you should make break for it--a home run! Don’t let it strike you out!” The baseball idiot blurted, grasping Gokurdera’s hands firmly.
“Huh?” Gokudera blinked. He felt stupid. Just what exactly had he been hoping for?
Highly enthusiastic, Takeshi continued. “You have to stand your ground whenever you’re up to bat! You have to hold the bat tightly and give it everything you’ve got…If you do that, then you’ll be able to strike down one--a shooting star! Your wish come true…at least I think so.”
More annoyed than consoled, Gokudera pulled away from him. “Just what the hell are you talking about anyway? Honestly…I should’ve known! A baseball idiot like you wouldn’t understand…!”
Before he could say anything more, he caught the apologetic expression on Yamamoto’s face and quieted down. Turning his back, Gokudera silently cursed himself for acting foolishly. In truth, Yamamoto had actually given him hope if not something more. Why couldn’t he be direct with his feelings like him? Having nothing more to contribute, Gokudera began to depart.
“See ya…” He muttered, “I’ve got a plane to catch.”
‘What’s the point of a shooting star anyway? It’s not like I’ve made any wishes.’ Gokudera thought.
He wasn’t looking forward to returning to his father at all. That man continued crush his hopes. If there were any shooting stars left, then that man had struck down every last one, leaving nothing but darkness behind…
Later on that evening, after seeing both Bianchi and Gokudera off at the airport with the Sawada family, Takeshi returned home. Seeing that plane take off had been disheartening. As he ate supper with his father, Mr. Yamamoto purposely cleared his throat. Takeshi looked up, his expression unchanged. Seeing his son this way made Mr. Yamamoto nervous. He’d intended to remind him about Obon, but now completely lost the nerve to do so. It was evident that Takeshi was already upset by something. He’d been silent since the start of their supper. He didn’t want to burden him with such a depressing subject, but it had to be done.
“Takeshi,” He began, “I know that you’ve been occupied with baseball a lot, but maybe it’s time that you…” He paused, he couldn’t just ask his son to get over Mrs. Yamamoto’s death even after all this time.
Takeshi waited patiently.
“It’s time that you…that you got a girlfriend! Yes, that’s right--a girlfriend!”
Takeshi nearly choked on the sushi he’d been eating. The subject was definitely out of the blue and threw him for a loop. Mr. Yamamoto laughed nervously and continued to ramble on about him being a growing boy and the like.
Sure, the topic was a little half-baked and random, but what the heck?--blame it on anxiety. After all, it’s the most formidable kind of gag--the kind that keeps people from speaking from the heart...
TBC…
Notes: Obon is a week dedicated to honoring one’s ancestors or one’s deceased loved ones in Japan. It’s usually celebrated in mid July and August.
A/n: Stella Cadente means “Shooting Star” in Italian. Ansietà means “Anxiety”.
Pairing: YamaxGoku
Rating: Pg-13
Summary: The oncoming summer boasts an array of unyielding promises. Spirited and care-free, Yamamoto finds himself awkwardly growing closer to the aloof, hot-tempered Gokudera. But what does Gokudera truly think of him? As secrets and crushes abound, Takeshi Yamamoto’s greatest wish might just be riding on a shooting star…
Author’s note: This is a story that fabricates Amano’s Katekyo Hitman Reborn!, with due respect. I don’t own any of the characters or the original story.
Just one shooting star.
That’s all I need to make a wish.
Just one,
Brilliant flame riding across the darkness,
Is enough,
That is, if it can grant anything at all--
I want to be granted everlasting contentment,
An escape from this insecurity of childhood,
And an eternal place beside the one I love.
If not today,
If not tomorrow--
In the future!
Part One: Ansietà
The month of July had flown in without warning. Summer quietly yet brutally descended on the manic Namimori ward of Tokyo. There was an air of peacefulness despite the advancing heat. It was the kind of sloth that could be appreciated and celebrated with a nice ice cold drink and a fine seat beneath an air-conditioner. Things seemed to move in slow motion (if not dying of dehydration from the heat). Still, the youth of Namimori welcomed the sweaty season with open arms and so did the adults. Yet there was a certain something lingering in the whimsical atmosphere….
A great cloud of steam swirled out from the Takesushi restaurant. It was followed by the mouthwatering aroma of thawed, seasoned tuna and sushi. It was also the ecstatic home of the Yamamoto family. Tsuyoshi Yamamoto, the undaunted head of the restaurant and the household hummed a cheerful song as he tossed and stir fried some vegetables in preparation for supper. Mr. Yamamoto hadn’t always been upbeat. At another point in time he’d been an entirely different sort man. But the past didn’t count much anymore, he supposed. A broad smile gracing his face, Mr. Yamamoto took a moment to truly admire his restaurant-home and the stifling breath of summer that bristled through. He shared this place with his only son and child, Takeshi Yamamoto. They were an average, dynamic duo of father and son, but there had once been a time when they were a trio. Those days were long gone, but not forgotten.
Mr. Yamamoto put down his cooking utensils and sipped from his lukewarm tea. A little break was best. He went upstairs, moving from the restaurant to the homely part of the foundation. He sat in his small, but comforting living room. It lacked most creature comforts, taking on a slightly more traditional atmosphere. He sat before an alter decorated with many memories--precious photographs and folkloric knickknacks. Crowning the alter was a fairly sizable picture of the late Mrs. Yamamoto. Her bright eyes--ever enthusiastic and her loving smile--reached across time. Once upon a time, she’d changed his entire life. He’d adored her. Takeshi had too. He missed her smile and her laughter, but never felt the desire to lament or regret anything. After all, she’d never really left their side. Or at least Mr. Yamamoto felt that way in heart and spirit.
How many years had it been? Time had gone by so swiftly. Takeshi wasn’t a kid anymore. Their son now helped his father to run the restaurant on a daily basis while balancing academics and his never-ending love of baseball. Mr. Yamamoto couldn’t be more proud. However…
This summer, just like its predecessors was going to be important. With *Obon approaching as quickly as it was, Mr. Yamamoto somehow felt pressed for time. He wanted the best for Takeshi, but they both seemed trapped in each and every summer that passed, especially Takeshi himself.
“That time’s approaching again, isn’t it?” Mr. Yamamoto asked aloud.
Mrs. Yamamoto was silent. Like always, she only smiled in response.
“I know I shouldn’t dawdle. You wouldn’t approve. But I’m still concerned for our Takeshi. He takes after you so much and he’s already gotten so big!” He said, cheerfully toasting to her memory.
He was going to have to remind Takeshi about Obon. He felt guilty. With each summer, his son appeared to be more and more cheerful. Mr. Yamamoto wasn’t so easily fooled. That was Takeshi’s way of hiding things. Lately, though, he couldn’t tell. His son loved baseball more than anything and the love affair wasn’t going to end anytime soon. Therefore, his son was becoming even more difficult to figure out. Mr. Yamamoto sighed. Memories were indeed important, but he didn’t have the heart to reopen an old wound that had only begun to heal.
“You know, parents understand their kids a lot better when they’re just kids. Then time flies and they start to change on you. Takeshi changed so much. I understood him a lot better when he was this high…” Mr. Yamato motioned toward the photograph. “Why do kids have to grow up? It’s a little heartbreaking, you know.”
Silence.
The bells outside the sliding window chimed just beyond its rice paper screen. It was almost evident. This summer was bringing with it a promise. For better or worse? Mr. Yamamoto had no way of knowing.
“This summer may just end up like all the rest, but I still have hope for him. I know I’m a worrywart, but…it’s still going to be difficult for him to overcome.”
Mrs. Yamamoto continued to smile. She had all the answers, but left the truth up to her husband. It was funny how the dead seemed to know a heck of a lot more than the living…
Takeshi Yamamoto smiled proudly as he dropped his bat, watching as the ball vanished into the sky. The ball landed beyond its foul point--a great stretch of distance from Namimori’s baseball field. He’d been practicing for the summer tournaments since the end of winter and was quite sure that he was now well prepared. He flexed his arm and sat down on the dusty batter’s plate. Savoring the warm winds, he closed his eyes feeling well accomplished.
His thoughts drifted to Tsuna and the others. Although he thoroughly enjoyed their games together, the idea of them being a “real” mafia was silly. He wondered if the Sawada family would be planning a summer vacation. Baseball tournaments wouldn’t begin until late in the summer. He had ample amounts of time to spend with them. He also thought of Hayato Gokudera. He found himself thinking about the hot-tempered boy a lot lately. Gokudera who was unreasonable, aloof, and yet somehow inspiring never strayed far from his thoughts. Feeling his heart pound, Takeshi tried to clear his head. He couldn’t let his concentration slip.
Hayato Gokudera…
Feeling a familiar presence pass over him with the wind, he peered into the sky. He could remember sitting beneath the same sky more than eight years ago as a helpless boy. There’d been a sky full of shooting stars back then. Instead of simply wishing on one, he’d attempted to strike them all down with just a baseball and a bat. If he could’ve struck down just one, he might’ve saved his mother for an early death. Kids were like that, though--always wishing. He wasn’t a kid anymore, but he wasn’t an adult either. Childhood was a long and winding path that seemed to stretch on, lugging all of its own insecurities along. Takeshi wasn’t insecure. He was just good at hiding all of his fears. The absence of his mother was the greatest kink in his armor. He’d hidden it so well behind his passion for baseball that it almost eluded him. But it was there. If he’d been just a little stronger back then…
That’s why he worked so hard for his father, for his friends…He didn’t have time for regret. Yet it always found time for him. He couldn’t let anyone notice, not even his father. Not even himself. Wounds were supposed to heal with time, weren’t they? He tried to remember his mother’s smile. The lovable prankster, sports fanatic, and folklorist that she was--she’d been the one to inspire his love of baseball. She’d named him too--as a joke after their family’s sushi restaurant. She loved to laugh and tell stories. She’d told him an old adage about a shooting star. He believed it back then. Somehow, he still believed it:
“Stars surround us all the time, even when we can’t see them. They are many things. They are spirits, beacons, and most of all they represent hearts. When a star falls it can also be a painful thing. That’s why you have to make a wish as soon as you see one. Turn your heart into a fist! Give it all that you have! If you can strike down just one, your wishes will come true. I promise…”
He could still remember the way that she smiled as she said that. Afterwards, she’d taken him into her arms and laughed aloud. So full of energy and life…
“Give it all that I’ve got, huh? I’ll keep trying.” Takeshi said, suppressing the doubt he felt.
He’d been wishing ever since that night, even at the funeral that followed. He was still wishing even now.
Watching the lonesome baseball fanatic from the stands was a quiet and gentle spectator. According to her given schedule, she’d arrived a little too early, but couldn’t resist. Her smile widened. As she admired Namimori’s finest champion of baseball, she felt her heart soaring…
Summer vacation began a little later on that afternoon. School was officially out and would be for the next two months. As crowds of giddy teenagers poured out of Namimori Jr. High, Takeshi immediately rushed toward the Sawada’s. He couldn’t wait to see Tsuna and the rest of the family, especially Gokudera. His heart beat hard against his ribs as he ran along a maze of concrete sidewalks and streets. When he arrived, he was wholeheartedly greeted by Tsuna, who was relieved to be rid of school at last, at least for the summer. Nana Sawada eagerly offered him some lemonade, which he would’ve accepted if Lambo and I-Pin hadn’t intercepted it. They were scolded by Tsuna (whom they always ignored when they weren’t terrorizing him--and they were very good at doing both at once).
Takeshi hadn’t minded at all. Haru and Kyoko offered him some freshly backed cookies which also ended up being stolen. The two girls then sparked a cheerful argument over what they might replace those half-burnt cookies with. (It was Haru’s fault. She’d insisted on extra oven time with EXTRA love). The last thing he was offered was a cold glass of milk, which he would’ve protected with his life--milk being his utmost favorite beverage. Takeshi calmly stepped aside to avoid Ryohei’s EXTREME fists of joy and a broken nose--a casual, but rather rough greeting. He also managed to avoid being struck by a grenade, ducking just in time as Lambo aimed at the stoic, capricious Reborn. Takeshi effortlessly avoided being set on fire as Reborn retaliated with a flame torch he’d retrieved from virtually nowhere. Caught in the crossfire, Tsuna wasn’t so fortunate. Takeshi tried to cheer the boy up as he whined about his third-degree burns, but it didn’t help. Tsuna’s insistent bellyaching only resulted in him being reprimanded by Reborn.
“No-Good Tsuna! Vongola bosses don’t cry over little scratches.” Reborn said coolly, even though it was a heck of a lot more than just “a little scratch”.
Mrs. Sawada continued to serve lemonade, oblivious to the chaos around her. Yes, the Sawada household was as lively as ever. Everyone quieted down as Mrs. Sawada announced that they’d all be vacationing on a luxury cruise ship out in the Mediterranean. Of course, this was all made possible by the rather suspicious courtesy of Reborn. Everyone cheered. I-Pin and Lambo scampered around excitedly, stampeding over all in their path. Tsuna, however, wasn’t so quick to celebrate. Something didn’t quite sit right with this. Reborn was definitely planning torment him. He could feel it. This so-called vacation was bound to add insult to injury.
Takeshi was delighted by the idea. He’d been on a cruise ship once before with Reborn and the Sawada family. He’d found it to be highly amusing and could hardly resist a second endeavor. Having gone to retrieve some bandages for Tsuna’s wounds, Takeshi returned. He was still a little disappointed to find that Gokudera hadn’t made an appearance yet. He was usually always the first to be seen in the Sawada household.
As he proceeded to treat Tsuna’s wounds, his eardrums were suddenly rattled by a loud, horrible wailing. Looking over his shoulder, Takeshi glanced Bianchi smothering Reborn against her bosom and weeping dramatically. Somehow, between that horrible wailing and Reborn’s indifference he came to understand that both Bianchi and Gokudera were to return to Italy ASAP. It wasn’t the impending departure itself that bothered her. It was being separated from Reborn. Everyone knew that she loved the miniature hit man to pieces and couldn’t live without him (although this didn’t change the fact that the whole affair seemed one-sided). At the melodramatic news, Takeshi felt his heart sinking. He’d hoped to spend time with Gokudera too.
Excusing himself from the room, Takeshi walked outside to find the missing Gokudera leaning against a post and smoking. Entirely aloof, his silver eyes were cast toward the sky. The wind stirred his natural, platinum-colored hair and detoured the smoke from his cigarette. Takeshi’s heart nearly skipped a beat. He hadn’t expected to find him so easily. They acknowledged each other wordlessly. Takeshi stood beside him, watching the clouds roll sluggishly across the sky.
“You’re going home to Italy?” Takeshi asked, breaking the silence. “I was hoping that you’d come along on that cruise with us.”
“It’s none of your business. Just some family matters.” Gokudera replied bluntly.
Takeshi hadn’t overlooked the doubt that glistened in those silver eyes. He didn’t want to pry, but he couldn’t help feeling concerned.
“I’ll leave the tenth with you. He’d better not get a single scratch on him! I’m still his right-hand man, but you’ll have to stand in for me, got it baseball idiot?” Gokudera said, masking his doubt with a challenge.
Takeshi nodded in agreement. “If you say so, then I won’t argue.” He answered. Seeing Gokudera act like his usual self was comforting.
Gokudera paused. He was surprised by the contentment in the other’s voice. “You could at least argue with me, Yamamoto. You really are pathetic!” Truthfully, the response was sort of flattering. There was something about the way that baseball idiot spoke that eased his doubts. But he’d never admit this even if he were tortured.
Secretly, Bianchi watched the pair from the window. She knew that Gokudera would resent the idea of returning to Italy, to their father. But it couldn’t be helped. She didn’t blame her kid brother either. Their father wasn’t the most loving man in the world. For Gokudera, it was definitely something to be dreaded. Unlike her, he didn’t have any found memories of living in Italy with their father, but the man was much too powerful to be ignored. Not even his own children were exempt from his tyranny. Bianchi sighed. She’d at least give her brother until sunset to clear his head. She blinked in surprise. Yamamoto and her brother gone off together somewhere beyond the Sawada home. She didn’t worry, though. Somehow, she felt that Gokudera needed someone to talk to--a necessity he rarely needed. Bianchi smiled to herself. Somehow, she felt that something was beginning…
“The sun’s going to set soon…” Takeshi murmured as they walked around a deserted park. The air cooled a little. The feeling of the wind as it passed over them, lifted his spirits a little. “Is there something bothering you?”
Gokudera narrowed his eyes. “I said it’s none of your business!” He snapped. “Anyway. I should be heading back. There’s plane’s waiting for--” He trailed off at the expression on Yamamoto’s face. His eyes saw right through him. It wasn’t exactly uncomfortable, but it was downright annoying.
“If there’s something troubling you then…” Takeshi began, closing the distance between them.
Gokudera felt himself blushing. Yamamoto was uncommonly close. It was both annoying and inviting. The silver haired boy froze, unsure of what to expect yet expecting something all at once.
“If there’s something bothering you then…” Takeshi continued…
Gokudera felt his eyelids fluttering shut. Could it be? Was Yamamoto going to…?!
“Then you should make break for it--a home run! Don’t let it strike you out!” The baseball idiot blurted, grasping Gokurdera’s hands firmly.
“Huh?” Gokudera blinked. He felt stupid. Just what exactly had he been hoping for?
Highly enthusiastic, Takeshi continued. “You have to stand your ground whenever you’re up to bat! You have to hold the bat tightly and give it everything you’ve got…If you do that, then you’ll be able to strike down one--a shooting star! Your wish come true…at least I think so.”
More annoyed than consoled, Gokudera pulled away from him. “Just what the hell are you talking about anyway? Honestly…I should’ve known! A baseball idiot like you wouldn’t understand…!”
Before he could say anything more, he caught the apologetic expression on Yamamoto’s face and quieted down. Turning his back, Gokudera silently cursed himself for acting foolishly. In truth, Yamamoto had actually given him hope if not something more. Why couldn’t he be direct with his feelings like him? Having nothing more to contribute, Gokudera began to depart.
“See ya…” He muttered, “I’ve got a plane to catch.”
‘What’s the point of a shooting star anyway? It’s not like I’ve made any wishes.’ Gokudera thought.
He wasn’t looking forward to returning to his father at all. That man continued crush his hopes. If there were any shooting stars left, then that man had struck down every last one, leaving nothing but darkness behind…
Later on that evening, after seeing both Bianchi and Gokudera off at the airport with the Sawada family, Takeshi returned home. Seeing that plane take off had been disheartening. As he ate supper with his father, Mr. Yamamoto purposely cleared his throat. Takeshi looked up, his expression unchanged. Seeing his son this way made Mr. Yamamoto nervous. He’d intended to remind him about Obon, but now completely lost the nerve to do so. It was evident that Takeshi was already upset by something. He’d been silent since the start of their supper. He didn’t want to burden him with such a depressing subject, but it had to be done.
“Takeshi,” He began, “I know that you’ve been occupied with baseball a lot, but maybe it’s time that you…” He paused, he couldn’t just ask his son to get over Mrs. Yamamoto’s death even after all this time.
Takeshi waited patiently.
“It’s time that you…that you got a girlfriend! Yes, that’s right--a girlfriend!”
Takeshi nearly choked on the sushi he’d been eating. The subject was definitely out of the blue and threw him for a loop. Mr. Yamamoto laughed nervously and continued to ramble on about him being a growing boy and the like.
Sure, the topic was a little half-baked and random, but what the heck?--blame it on anxiety. After all, it’s the most formidable kind of gag--the kind that keeps people from speaking from the heart...
TBC…
Notes: Obon is a week dedicated to honoring one’s ancestors or one’s deceased loved ones in Japan. It’s usually celebrated in mid July and August.
A/n: Stella Cadente means “Shooting Star” in Italian. Ansietà means “Anxiety”.