Irradiate [February 27th] [802759] [Reborn!]
Title :: Irradiate
Prompt :: February 27th, “The world is tiny; the heart's enormous” [31_days]
Pairing :: 802759
Rating :: PG
Wordcount :: 405
Summary :: The sound only made him nervous, now.
The sound only made him nervous, now.
From down here in the base, it seemed somehow different, distorted - a dull but deafening thing without the accompanying flash of light and colour to illuminate the sky, to soften it into something cheerful and celebratory.
Now, here, to his ears, it sounded only like the drums of war, of death.
(He had called Gokudera into his office only minutes after the fair began up above, knowing full well that his Storm Guardian was not in battle but still needing to see with his own eyes, needing at least a fleeting glimpse of safety.)
His hands moved methodically through the piles of paperwork fanned across his desk, trying to hide the way they flinched, and the startled clicking of his rings against the wood was masked by the sounds of the explosions themselves.
Gokudera stood at his right, staring forwards and down through hooded eyes, and that much, at least, still felt familiar.
And Tsuna was grateful, even if they didn’t speak, the rhythms of their breaths nearly enough to drown out the outside world.
And he was somehow not surprised at all when the door swung open and Yamamoto’s head poked in, unasked and unannounced, smile flashing as bright as the flares. (Even if its edges now resembled the sharp edge of his sword rather than the gently curving arc of a ball, his eyes momentarily just as sharp above it.)
“Haha, feels weird,” he said, perching himself on a corner of Tsuna’s desk while Gokudera glared, and Tsuna nearly shook his head.
No. Feels real.
But he knew that was what Yamamoto had meant - the strangeness of the inside, of the fact these walls screamed danger rather safe - and answered with a quiet sigh instead.
“Yeah,” he agreed. “Yeah.”
And he did not notice how hard his hands were shaking, until Yamamoto leaned over to carefully cover one with his own, stilling his pen as effortlessly as stopping an attack. The other was immediately lifted and caught between Gokudera’s, rings comfortingly cool against his skin like the memory of an evening breeze, and Tsuna fought the urge to simply close his eyes and feel.
“But then,” Yamamoto continued, fingers threading through Tsuna’s, “there could be weirder things.”
Not having you two here, still with me. That - that would be -
And Tsuna’s hands clutched, one silent moment of concession, of clarity, down there in the dark.
Prompt :: February 27th, “The world is tiny; the heart's enormous” [31_days]
Pairing :: 802759
Rating :: PG
Wordcount :: 405
Summary :: The sound only made him nervous, now.
The sound only made him nervous, now.
From down here in the base, it seemed somehow different, distorted - a dull but deafening thing without the accompanying flash of light and colour to illuminate the sky, to soften it into something cheerful and celebratory.
Now, here, to his ears, it sounded only like the drums of war, of death.
(He had called Gokudera into his office only minutes after the fair began up above, knowing full well that his Storm Guardian was not in battle but still needing to see with his own eyes, needing at least a fleeting glimpse of safety.)
His hands moved methodically through the piles of paperwork fanned across his desk, trying to hide the way they flinched, and the startled clicking of his rings against the wood was masked by the sounds of the explosions themselves.
Gokudera stood at his right, staring forwards and down through hooded eyes, and that much, at least, still felt familiar.
And Tsuna was grateful, even if they didn’t speak, the rhythms of their breaths nearly enough to drown out the outside world.
And he was somehow not surprised at all when the door swung open and Yamamoto’s head poked in, unasked and unannounced, smile flashing as bright as the flares. (Even if its edges now resembled the sharp edge of his sword rather than the gently curving arc of a ball, his eyes momentarily just as sharp above it.)
“Haha, feels weird,” he said, perching himself on a corner of Tsuna’s desk while Gokudera glared, and Tsuna nearly shook his head.
No. Feels real.
But he knew that was what Yamamoto had meant - the strangeness of the inside, of the fact these walls screamed danger rather safe - and answered with a quiet sigh instead.
“Yeah,” he agreed. “Yeah.”
And he did not notice how hard his hands were shaking, until Yamamoto leaned over to carefully cover one with his own, stilling his pen as effortlessly as stopping an attack. The other was immediately lifted and caught between Gokudera’s, rings comfortingly cool against his skin like the memory of an evening breeze, and Tsuna fought the urge to simply close his eyes and feel.
“But then,” Yamamoto continued, fingers threading through Tsuna’s, “there could be weirder things.”
Not having you two here, still with me. That - that would be -
And Tsuna’s hands clutched, one silent moment of concession, of clarity, down there in the dark.