Fanfiction
Title- Asking for a Smile
Author - Raiyo
Rating - PG-PG13
Pairing - YamaGoku
Warnings - Slash, death.
Summary - A break in routine. For templated Prompt- Bracelets
A/N - I haven't written anything for a while so it might not be all that great.
“Hey, Gokudera, Where did you get those bracelets?”
It is hot sumer day and a warm breeze blows through the town. They are walking as far away from each other as they can on the narrow cracked concrete of the sidewalk, The edge of a brick building pressed against Yamamoto's side and Gokudera just close enough to the road to feel the wind from the cars as they brush past. Such is routine, such is usual, and, at least in Gokudera's mind, such is expected. So when Yamamoto talks it surprises him, for it breaks from the routine, the usual, and the expected.
“What?” Gokudera asks surprise giving way to annoyance.
Yamamoto smiles.
“I just wanted to know where you got them. Since you have so many there must be some kind of a story.”
“What makes you think I'm going to tell you?”
“You don't have to, I just thought it would be nice to learn something about you.”
Gokudera is angry, Yamamoto can tell, so he steps off the hot grey sidewalk into the cool shade of the awning that marks his house.
“Well I'll see you tomorrow then.” he says to a fuming Gokudera.
The next day is a Saturday and Yamamoto is waiting patiently for the final bell to ring. School is slow today like it always is, with students either dozing or staring at the clock, their minds on what they would do for the remainder of the weekend. Yamamoto doesn't care about any of these people right now though, for his eyes are resting on Gokudera's silver hair and the way his bracelets and rings shine in the noon light. There is a bored expression on is face like always, for he must have heard this many times before from is own tutors.
A sharp sound breaks through Yamamoto's thoughts and he is surprised at how quickly the time goes when he watches the silver haired Italian. He quickly gets up and stuffs his notebook, blank save for a name scrawled at the very top, a name not his own, into his black school bag.
He has to run to catch up with Gokudera, who it seems must have left the room in record time to have gotten so far ahead. When he catches up he takes is position by the wall and asks his question again.
And maybe Gokudera is tired of their usual routine too, because he answers.
“This one I got from the thugs back in my home in Italy. They gave it to be as a tribute after I beat up their leader.”
It has been nearly a week now and they have fallen into a pattern. Yamamoto will ask and Gokudera will answer with a fantastic story and Yamamoto will listen and, if he's lucky, Gokudera will smile for him.
“What about this one?”
He points to the highest bracelet on Gokudera's wrist. It's an odd bracelet, silver with black etchings and shimmering bits of copper, but it seems to go well against Gokudera's pale skin.
But when he looks up he sees an odd look cross the others face and realizes that he has said something wrong.
“You don't have to-” Gokudera cuts him off.
“That was from a while ago. When I was twelve, the first time I ever killed someone...”
He trails off and looks at the sky where a blood red sun dyes the world crimson.
“I didn't have a choice.”
Yamamoto says nothing, merely kneels down and kisses Gokudera's wrist, which now looks pale and thin, too pale, too thin, under the weight of countless blood stained trophies, as if asking for another smile.