[Fic] Windshear [Part 2/?]
And it's Wednesday again~ Hi, everyone! Hope your week has had more ups than downs, or maybe this will distract you from the typhoon outside if you live around my side of the globe. Guess what? the-dw got 2nd place for her entry in the "Impending Doom" challenge over at ouran_contest! She didn't ask me to give her a plug, but hey - more nice stuff to read~! Enjoy ^_^
Windshear [Part 2/?]
Authors: kagayachou and the-dw
Characters/Pairings: Yamamoto, Hibari, Vongola. Eventual Yamamoto/Hibari.
Rating: PG-13
Words: 1854 (More in the next chapter. We promise!)
Summary: Stubborn bastards that they are, Hibari delivers an ultimatum in the face of Yamamoto's persistence.
Hibari had went back to the guestroom given to him by Sawada after that meeting with Yamamoto, but the noise was still far too piercing and loud, even after he closed both the door and windows. He had gritted his teeth and gave up on trying the sleep amongst the noise, especially when Sasagawa started caterwauling like a tortured cat.
He moved towards the roof, still dressed in only his black silk sleeping yukata. The cool wind felt soothing against his hair and his neck, and when he breathed in the salt air it did not irritate his lungs, so he decided to just lie there for a while to wait for things to quieten down downstairs.
He must have been more tired than he had thought, because the next time he opened his eyes, the sky was streaked with orange and yellow, and the air was warming up. He sat up slowly, drawing a sharp breath when his body protested, his muscles rebelling against him and shivering from the cold that had seeped through the thin yukata and through his skin.
He pulled the yukata closer to himself, drawing his legs up as he tried to will the feeling back into his fingers and hands. Really, he had been far too careless lately...
***
Yamamoto, up since the crack of dawn, was working up a good sweat in the underground training facilities half hoping for another chance to talk to Hibari, who was also known for training early in the morning - on anyone who broke the rules when they were in school at least.
Instead came Ryohei, who challenged him to a sparring session as soon as he saw him. Yamamoto shook his head then and waved off the invitation with a carefree laugh. There was someone else he was more interested in fighting anyway. Besides, even if Hibari came by, Yamamoto doubted that the other man would stick around for long if things were rowdy "to the EXTREME!"
Hibari...
He'd been... flitting in and out of Yamamoto's thoughts since the evening before, between carrying Gokudera into bed when his drunk sister started stripping - honestly, the guy would have been fine if she kept her goggles on - and keeping the bomber's cat from eating Hibird.
But now, the bird was safe but nowhere to be found, and still... Yamamoto wondered about Hibari. What might he be doing? Where might he be? Tsuna invited them all for the weekend and ... actually as long as they wanted to stay in Italy with him in the Vongola mansion, but Hibari was really like a drifting cloud, wasn't he?
Yamamoto chuckled to himself as those thoughts directed him towards the roof of the mansion. Wouldn't it just make sense to find Hibari up there?
***
Hibari decided that he didn't care about the cold anymore - he wasn't so weak to fall sick so easily - and leaned back on his hands, closing his eyes as he breathed in the cool morning air. The wind mussed his hair even further, creating a mess of tangles that would probably take him ages to unravel if he could be bothered to comb through it - he had cut his hair so he wouldn't have to bother with it, after all - and his head was tilted back, hair falling against his closed eyelids and baring his pale throat.
His yukata slipped off one shoulder from a particularly powerful gust, the silk feeling like a woven waterfall on his skin. He drew a leg up to his chest, baring it - with skin so pale that it contrasted starkly with the black colour of his yukata - to the morning air. He probably looked indecent right now, but honestly he could not be bothered with how others think of him, especially now when there was no herbivores around, trying to crowd.
Hibari exhaled softly and smiled, the smallest of curves on the edge of his lips.
At that sight, it was like the wind had been knocked out of Yamamoto's lungs. Hibari was... really nice to look at when he was smiling. As if he wasn't considered one of the prettiest boys when they were in high school.
Yamamoto couldn't come up with a greeting in that moment, but his feet were still moving. He bridged the distance easily, but thankfully, he remembered to stop before he got close enough to invade Hibari's personal space.
Gokudera could barely stand him in his personal space; Yamamoto... well, after ten years, he had learned some things.
"... Morning," he smiled. His voice was softer than normal, but his smile was just as warm. "How was the weather last night?"
Hibari didn't open his eyes, much less turn towards that voice. "Yamamoto Takeshi," he murmured, sounding almost bored. "Leave."
"It's an awful nice view here though," Yamamoto smiled vaguely, staring straight at Hibari. "And you didn't answer my question last night."
He sat down, a short distance beside him, cross-legged, and decided to start with something small. "Or maybe I should rephrase it... Can you stand anybody?"
Hibari slitted open his eyes, "You have a lot of questions and you presume a lot. Tell me: why should I even answer any one of your questions? In fact," he continued, sounding rather contemplative, "why should I not throw you over the railing right now?"
"Well, for one thing, Tsuna would get upset," Yamamoto scratched his head. "If nothing else, that will probably make Dino and the kiddo pissed off at you." He chuckled, "And if you do manage to throw me over the railing, they'd probably find a way to make you clean up the mess."
Having answered the most likely rhetorical question, Yamamoto dropped the smile momentarily. "Are you all right?"
A look of annoyance flashed in Hibari's eyes, and his hands curled against the cold pavement of the roof. He exhaled in an exasperated gust, pulling the collar of his yukata back up his shoulders. Slowly, as if unfolding himself, he stood up and stepped over to the railing, leaning against it.
"Stop asking useless questions," he replied curtly after the long moment of silence for he knew better than to hope that Yamamoto would take the hint and leave. The man was notoriously oblivious. "Why are you here?" What do I have to do for you to go away?
"... I promised you a fight in the future," Yamamoto smiled after a moment. Deciding that the truth would be best, he added, "Of course I'd want to know how well - or unwell - you are, right?"
And if there was anything he could do to help, really. Or maybe their Sun Guardian would be better with healing. Or Shamal. The crazy doctor could be convinced to treat guys... on some occasions.
Hibari turned back to face Yamamoto, leaning against the cold metal of the railing. He shivered slightly, but his eyes caught Yamamoto's in a fierce, irritated gaze. "If you want a fight, then we can have one now." He snorted derisively, turning away to stare out to the horizon. When he next spoke, his voice was much quieter and subdued. "I am not ill, Yamamoto Takeshi."
"You were coughing up blood, Hibari... ... Kyouya, isn't it?" Yamamoto hazarded, with a contemplative tilt of his head. If the guy kept calling him by his full name, really, the least he could do was try to get him to stop. "... You can call me Takeshi, you know." He might as well change the topic if Hibari didn't want to admit to being ill.
Hibari shot him a disdainful look, like how one would look at a dying bug at the bottom of one's shoe. Then he turned away to look back to the horizon, watching as the sun rose from the sea, its rays breaking through the clouds. The cool air brushed across his body once more, and he shivered slightly.
Yamamoto caught that unbidden movement though, and stood, walking closer almost soundlessly. With just a pair of tracksuit bottoms and a t-shirt on, he didn't have much he could offer the yukata-clad man.
"Aah," he finally sighed. "I need permission, to ah... touch you, don't I?" He laughed, "Can I touch you? ... Or convince you to get off the roof? You don't have much on."
Hibari shot him another glare, even though he knew it would be useless. Pushing himself away from the railing, he walked towards the door of the roof, pointedly ignoring Yamamoto. He stopped at the door, a hand on the cold metal knob, and sighed, aggravated. "Do you often pry into business that is not yours, Yamamoto Takeshi?"
"Ahahaha," Yamamoto swung his arms up to rest on the back of his head. "It's funny. I've never really been all that good at ignoring you, Hibari Kyouya..."
Meaning that he'd tried before. And it didn't always work for long, especially since Hibari would show up randomly, or they'd hear from Hibird, and Hibari would disappear from their lives once again. But every time he left, there was always a sense of 'oh, he'll be back when the Vongola needs him; he's a guardian, like the rest of us, and ... Hibari is Hibari.'
But ... what was wrong with Hibari? How sick was he? Yamamoto didn't like that strange feeling he had - the feeling that Hibari might just drift off into the next life perhaps, the rest of them unawares.
A frown creased Hibari's brow, and he looked at Yamamoto out of the corner of his eyes. He disliked the way Yamamoto had pronounced his name, rolling the syllables around his tongue like he was savouring them - it reminded Hibari far too much of how that Cavallone omnivore - too weak to be a predator, yet not an herbivore - used to pronounce his name. His eyelids fluttered shut for a moment before he turned around fully to face Yamamoto, leaning against the door.
"What do you mean?"
Yamamoto kept his hands behind the back of his head with his fingers loosely interlinked. There was an air of harmlessness about him as he casually walked closer. "I mean... you interest me. So it's hard for me to ignore you."
But that air simply made Hibari narrow his eyes even further, his shoulders tensing as he glared at Yamamoto. He had seen what this man was capable of, and what he disliked most of him was that sheepskin that he had already mentioned last night. Hibari growled under his breath and whirled around, opening the door.
"If you wished to speak to me, Yamamoto Takeshi," he said, voice cold as mid-winter frost, "then you might do well to remove that sheepskin. Speak to me as the man you really are, then perhaps," he tilted his head back, and smirked just so slightly, "I might just answer your questions."
With that, he padded down the staircase.
A few seconds after the door closed, Yamamoto ran a hand through his hair, still smiling, but it was a small secret one on his face rather than the one he usually showed the world. "Sheepskin..." He sighed. There was a serious glint in his eyes.
Back: Part 1
Next: Part 3
Windshear [Part 2/?]
Authors: kagayachou and the-dw
Characters/Pairings: Yamamoto, Hibari, Vongola. Eventual Yamamoto/Hibari.
Rating: PG-13
Words: 1854 (More in the next chapter. We promise!)
Summary: Stubborn bastards that they are, Hibari delivers an ultimatum in the face of Yamamoto's persistence.
Hibari had went back to the guestroom given to him by Sawada after that meeting with Yamamoto, but the noise was still far too piercing and loud, even after he closed both the door and windows. He had gritted his teeth and gave up on trying the sleep amongst the noise, especially when Sasagawa started caterwauling like a tortured cat.
He moved towards the roof, still dressed in only his black silk sleeping yukata. The cool wind felt soothing against his hair and his neck, and when he breathed in the salt air it did not irritate his lungs, so he decided to just lie there for a while to wait for things to quieten down downstairs.
He must have been more tired than he had thought, because the next time he opened his eyes, the sky was streaked with orange and yellow, and the air was warming up. He sat up slowly, drawing a sharp breath when his body protested, his muscles rebelling against him and shivering from the cold that had seeped through the thin yukata and through his skin.
He pulled the yukata closer to himself, drawing his legs up as he tried to will the feeling back into his fingers and hands. Really, he had been far too careless lately...
***
Yamamoto, up since the crack of dawn, was working up a good sweat in the underground training facilities half hoping for another chance to talk to Hibari, who was also known for training early in the morning - on anyone who broke the rules when they were in school at least.
Instead came Ryohei, who challenged him to a sparring session as soon as he saw him. Yamamoto shook his head then and waved off the invitation with a carefree laugh. There was someone else he was more interested in fighting anyway. Besides, even if Hibari came by, Yamamoto doubted that the other man would stick around for long if things were rowdy "to the EXTREME!"
Hibari...
He'd been... flitting in and out of Yamamoto's thoughts since the evening before, between carrying Gokudera into bed when his drunk sister started stripping - honestly, the guy would have been fine if she kept her goggles on - and keeping the bomber's cat from eating Hibird.
But now, the bird was safe but nowhere to be found, and still... Yamamoto wondered about Hibari. What might he be doing? Where might he be? Tsuna invited them all for the weekend and ... actually as long as they wanted to stay in Italy with him in the Vongola mansion, but Hibari was really like a drifting cloud, wasn't he?
Yamamoto chuckled to himself as those thoughts directed him towards the roof of the mansion. Wouldn't it just make sense to find Hibari up there?
***
Hibari decided that he didn't care about the cold anymore - he wasn't so weak to fall sick so easily - and leaned back on his hands, closing his eyes as he breathed in the cool morning air. The wind mussed his hair even further, creating a mess of tangles that would probably take him ages to unravel if he could be bothered to comb through it - he had cut his hair so he wouldn't have to bother with it, after all - and his head was tilted back, hair falling against his closed eyelids and baring his pale throat.
His yukata slipped off one shoulder from a particularly powerful gust, the silk feeling like a woven waterfall on his skin. He drew a leg up to his chest, baring it - with skin so pale that it contrasted starkly with the black colour of his yukata - to the morning air. He probably looked indecent right now, but honestly he could not be bothered with how others think of him, especially now when there was no herbivores around, trying to crowd.
Hibari exhaled softly and smiled, the smallest of curves on the edge of his lips.
At that sight, it was like the wind had been knocked out of Yamamoto's lungs. Hibari was... really nice to look at when he was smiling. As if he wasn't considered one of the prettiest boys when they were in high school.
Yamamoto couldn't come up with a greeting in that moment, but his feet were still moving. He bridged the distance easily, but thankfully, he remembered to stop before he got close enough to invade Hibari's personal space.
Gokudera could barely stand him in his personal space; Yamamoto... well, after ten years, he had learned some things.
"... Morning," he smiled. His voice was softer than normal, but his smile was just as warm. "How was the weather last night?"
Hibari didn't open his eyes, much less turn towards that voice. "Yamamoto Takeshi," he murmured, sounding almost bored. "Leave."
"It's an awful nice view here though," Yamamoto smiled vaguely, staring straight at Hibari. "And you didn't answer my question last night."
He sat down, a short distance beside him, cross-legged, and decided to start with something small. "Or maybe I should rephrase it... Can you stand anybody?"
Hibari slitted open his eyes, "You have a lot of questions and you presume a lot. Tell me: why should I even answer any one of your questions? In fact," he continued, sounding rather contemplative, "why should I not throw you over the railing right now?"
"Well, for one thing, Tsuna would get upset," Yamamoto scratched his head. "If nothing else, that will probably make Dino and the kiddo pissed off at you." He chuckled, "And if you do manage to throw me over the railing, they'd probably find a way to make you clean up the mess."
Having answered the most likely rhetorical question, Yamamoto dropped the smile momentarily. "Are you all right?"
A look of annoyance flashed in Hibari's eyes, and his hands curled against the cold pavement of the roof. He exhaled in an exasperated gust, pulling the collar of his yukata back up his shoulders. Slowly, as if unfolding himself, he stood up and stepped over to the railing, leaning against it.
"Stop asking useless questions," he replied curtly after the long moment of silence for he knew better than to hope that Yamamoto would take the hint and leave. The man was notoriously oblivious. "Why are you here?" What do I have to do for you to go away?
"... I promised you a fight in the future," Yamamoto smiled after a moment. Deciding that the truth would be best, he added, "Of course I'd want to know how well - or unwell - you are, right?"
And if there was anything he could do to help, really. Or maybe their Sun Guardian would be better with healing. Or Shamal. The crazy doctor could be convinced to treat guys... on some occasions.
Hibari turned back to face Yamamoto, leaning against the cold metal of the railing. He shivered slightly, but his eyes caught Yamamoto's in a fierce, irritated gaze. "If you want a fight, then we can have one now." He snorted derisively, turning away to stare out to the horizon. When he next spoke, his voice was much quieter and subdued. "I am not ill, Yamamoto Takeshi."
"You were coughing up blood, Hibari... ... Kyouya, isn't it?" Yamamoto hazarded, with a contemplative tilt of his head. If the guy kept calling him by his full name, really, the least he could do was try to get him to stop. "... You can call me Takeshi, you know." He might as well change the topic if Hibari didn't want to admit to being ill.
Hibari shot him a disdainful look, like how one would look at a dying bug at the bottom of one's shoe. Then he turned away to look back to the horizon, watching as the sun rose from the sea, its rays breaking through the clouds. The cool air brushed across his body once more, and he shivered slightly.
Yamamoto caught that unbidden movement though, and stood, walking closer almost soundlessly. With just a pair of tracksuit bottoms and a t-shirt on, he didn't have much he could offer the yukata-clad man.
"Aah," he finally sighed. "I need permission, to ah... touch you, don't I?" He laughed, "Can I touch you? ... Or convince you to get off the roof? You don't have much on."
Hibari shot him another glare, even though he knew it would be useless. Pushing himself away from the railing, he walked towards the door of the roof, pointedly ignoring Yamamoto. He stopped at the door, a hand on the cold metal knob, and sighed, aggravated. "Do you often pry into business that is not yours, Yamamoto Takeshi?"
"Ahahaha," Yamamoto swung his arms up to rest on the back of his head. "It's funny. I've never really been all that good at ignoring you, Hibari Kyouya..."
Meaning that he'd tried before. And it didn't always work for long, especially since Hibari would show up randomly, or they'd hear from Hibird, and Hibari would disappear from their lives once again. But every time he left, there was always a sense of 'oh, he'll be back when the Vongola needs him; he's a guardian, like the rest of us, and ... Hibari is Hibari.'
But ... what was wrong with Hibari? How sick was he? Yamamoto didn't like that strange feeling he had - the feeling that Hibari might just drift off into the next life perhaps, the rest of them unawares.
A frown creased Hibari's brow, and he looked at Yamamoto out of the corner of his eyes. He disliked the way Yamamoto had pronounced his name, rolling the syllables around his tongue like he was savouring them - it reminded Hibari far too much of how that Cavallone omnivore - too weak to be a predator, yet not an herbivore - used to pronounce his name. His eyelids fluttered shut for a moment before he turned around fully to face Yamamoto, leaning against the door.
"What do you mean?"
Yamamoto kept his hands behind the back of his head with his fingers loosely interlinked. There was an air of harmlessness about him as he casually walked closer. "I mean... you interest me. So it's hard for me to ignore you."
But that air simply made Hibari narrow his eyes even further, his shoulders tensing as he glared at Yamamoto. He had seen what this man was capable of, and what he disliked most of him was that sheepskin that he had already mentioned last night. Hibari growled under his breath and whirled around, opening the door.
"If you wished to speak to me, Yamamoto Takeshi," he said, voice cold as mid-winter frost, "then you might do well to remove that sheepskin. Speak to me as the man you really are, then perhaps," he tilted his head back, and smirked just so slightly, "I might just answer your questions."
With that, he padded down the staircase.
A few seconds after the door closed, Yamamoto ran a hand through his hair, still smiling, but it was a small secret one on his face rather than the one he usually showed the world. "Sheepskin..." He sighed. There was a serious glint in his eyes.
Back: Part 1
Next: Part 3