(no subject)
☣last minute.
PG13 | DREAM | 3316
A sharp jab to the chest, and the wind's knocked right off him. He stumbles, almost topples backward, but someone grabs him from behind and keeps him upright. That person hooks their arms underneath his and holds him like that, no escape, no backing out. And he braces himself, because he knows what comes next. A rain of punches, all aimed to make him bruise and bleed, a kick here and there, and even someone clawing at his skin, tearing at his flesh. People are jeering, laughing, pointing at him.
Just look at him! All the cuts and bruises and blood in between. Tears are threatening to spring from his eyes, and he's already trembling. Nearing the point of passing out, but someone keeps slapping him awake. Maybe it's Zucco's voice, or Zucco's foul breath on his face-he can't tell which. Then there are the sounds of people gasping, oooh'ing and aaah'ing, and then silence, the kind you associate when certain doom ( your doom, no less ) is approaching. Did he make a face? Scrunch up his nose in disgust, because he's sick of breathing in that stench?
"What was that look for, Dino?"
He freezes. Hah-it seems even his very own body betrays him now.
There's an easy smile on his lips. It's almost disarming, but it doesn't stop the punches from coming. It might have made their intensity even worse. But he takes every single one of them, barely making a sound save for the few incoherent ones. He knows he looks pathetic right now, and he can already hear Reborn chiding him in his head. No good, no good. You're the future Tenth boss of the Cavallone family. This is unacceptable. And Dino laughs, mentally, because to laugh out loud now is suicide, right?, and he laughs and laughs and laughs.
Because he can hear the tone and knows how the words will flow out of Reborn's mouth. It's ridiculous, the baby will say in disapproval. This is ridiculous, Dino thinks, it's ridiculous that he has to hear it from a child not even a year old but old enough to know everything there is about the world, how it works, and what Dino's part is in this whole thing more than he does. Maybe that's why he's laughing. Maybe that's why he stops and flashes a rueful smile instead.
There's something sad about this, he reasons, but whatever thought follows that is cut short when Zucco's voice floats back to his ears, along with the reminder of how much pain he's in right now. He cringes.
"Hey, Dino," comes the drawn-out growl, low and threatening. He opens his eyes the moment chubby fingers grab at his shirt's collar, and he blinks. A twisted grin is on Zucco's face, and Dino doesn't really know why it's there. Doesn't dare to ask.
"H-hey, Zucco." It comes out a little airy. Maybe a bit dizzy. The smell of blood is right under his nose, his eyes, his face, his shirt ( ah-Romario will give him that look again, reproachful, but soft, never judgmental ), everywhere. It's a little funny that all Dino could think of is how will he explain this to Reborn, to Romario, to all the people he's letting down by allowing himself to get tangled up in such a mess. I'm sorry, maybe that's how he'll start it, they caught me from behind, didn't see their hands-it's fine, it doesn't hurt as much anymore-
But there's another kind of ache, and it starts at his neck. It's telling him, hey, I'm a little stiff, so can you move your head a little? He shifts, ends up dipping his nose in something moist, something that smells funny. It wakes him with a start. He's finally aware of the hard surface his head is settled on, also becomes aware of the rustling of papers as he moves his hand to push himself up to properly lean back against the chair. Blinking, he looks down at his desk and notices the small puddle of drool. He almost laughs. A man of his age, thirty-two and counting, still drooling in his sleep. Maybe this is a sign that he needs to relax a little.
He smiles fondly while wiping his nose and lips clean with his sleeve, looking at nothing in particular, as if deep in thought. Seeing as he fell asleep inside his office, on his desk no less, maybe he should give himself a little breather. Forget everything for a moment, and massage his neck while he's at it. It's only for a few seconds anyway. Briefly, he wonders why Romario hasn't-the smile vanishes from his face-oh. Oh, that's right. How silly of him to keep forgetting.
Romario died three days ago.
He was killed-no-he shoved Dino away from the bomb that was meant for him and left behind nothing but the memory of his last serene smile. Dino blames himself for this ( he does it every time another life is claimed instead of his ) and maybe he'll never forgive himself. But he understands that this is how cruel the world can get, and he tries to move on, as best as he can. It's a grim smile that graces his lips this time.
They weren't even able to give him a proper funeral.
A sigh; it's small and quiet. That moment is gone now, the few seconds. He didn't even realize.
From his peripheral view, he notices that there's a car that just pulled up by the driveway. "Bono," he breathes out, and he promptly smiles in amusement. His voice sounds so muted inside this room. Can't help but laugh a little, dry, but it's not without a smidge of mirth. He's not that gone yet, he reminds himself. Romario wouldn't like it if he is.
The window tells him that Bono is no longer inside the car, but probably somewhere near the door by now. Time to make yourself a bit more presentable. Quickly, he runs a hand through his hair, mussing it up, combing it straight. He fixes his tie, smoothes out the creases on his shirt, clears his desk of all the clutter, and swipes the small puddle with his handkerchief as a finishing touch. There. All done. And just in time too.
Knock, knock.
"Who's there?"
It's the start of a joke.
"Boss-" Dino could tell it's not going to be a funny one. "-it seems Sasagawa Ryohei and the Varia were caught up in an ambush by Irie Shouichi's squad yesterday." He doesn't move; just sits there and waits for Bono to finish. Bono goes on, his voice just as dismal as the atmosphere. "There- ... weren't any survivors," the older man finishes, and neither one of them says a word after that.
It's a rigid, sterile sort of silence.
Bono looks at him expectantly. Dino looks back.
"Boss?" Say something. Please. That's what the look on Bono's face is telling him right now.
Dino's lips twitch, curve up a little, and smile. It's a joke, right? Even if it's not funny. But there's a sinking feeling that hazes over his whole mood, twisting it around until everything's upside-down. He looks tired now, body shifting to prop an elbow against the desk so he can hold his head. A headache forms, and he can't even find the words to say anymore. Maybe he's not supposed to. Maybe he should just leave it at that. But Bono doesn't move from where he is, as if waiting.
Dino looks up, and for a moment, he's expressionless, but in the end, the smile he's infamous for is back. Don't worry, don't worry, is what he's trying to say in that certain curve of his lips. "The Varia is an elite squad. I'm sure they won't go down that easily," is how he starts, calmly, securely, "And as for Sasagawa Ryohei-he's the Vongola's Sun Guardian. He'll be fine."
They'll be fine.
"There's no way-" they're dead. But he can't say this out loud, can't bring himself to finish the sentence. It would almost feel like he was jinxing it, if he did. But it's not like he needs to, because it looks like what he said is enough to placate Bono's worries. His smile brightens a little. As long as their spirits aren't as bleak as the day today, and the days ahead of them, they should be fine.
They'll be fine.
But then there's the unmistakable sound of gunfire from not so faraway, rata-tat-tat like a clock on fastforward. Dino's already on his feet, barking orders at a startled Bono, missing not a single beat. "Round everybody up! If there's anyone injured, take care of them first, and then drive the enemy back. Tell Romario to find me-" And it's only right after he got out of his office and jumped off the balcony that he realizes the last bit of that can't really be fulfilled.
He almost stops, but he doesn't. He can't waste any time on this. Not when other lives are at stake-
Instincts tell him to look up, and he does, just in time to hear the telltale clickclickclick and see that there are three pool balls headed straight for him. Electricity zips along their surface like an intricate web, would've shot him dead had he not run off to the side, barely missing a direct hit. He hears a slick laugh, and that makes him look up again. He almost freezes. Because floating in the air, with the same electric web as the three balls, is the man he's been told to watch out for.
"Oh? You're faster than I expected," is what the man says. There's an air of smugness around him, and it makes Dino narrows his eyes a little, but for the most part, his face remains neutral. He hasn't pulled out his weapon-not yet, not yet. All he does is watch as a lazy smirk forms on the man's face, one hand combing through blond hair just like his. "Just for that maybe I'll introduce myself."
But Dino never lets him. "Electric Gamma, captain of the third Alephandra Squad. Is that right?" A polite tone, as always. Calm as ever. There's no need to panic anyway.
A smooth whistle, and then Gamma hovers a bit closer to the ground, but not quite enough. "You've done your homework," he says, cue stick in hand, ready to pounce at any moment.
"Not quite. I've just heard a lot about you." But Dino finds himself thinking, even glancing around from left to right as inconspicuously as he could, is he the only one out here? Where are the rest of them?
Gamma seems to have noticed the look on his face. "They're around," he asserts, succeeding in raising a few hairs on Dino's arms. "But you don't have to worry about them. It's just you and me, you know, but it doesn't have to be. Your choice." And as if on cue, men in black uniform suddenly zoomed in his line of view, all floating nearby and around their captain. It only takes a few seconds later for Dino's men to appear, armed and ready to protect their boss too.
Dino glances back at them, looks as if he has something to say, but gets cut off quite effortlessly.
"Don Cavallone," and he's right back to looking up at Gamma, "I forgot that I've brought a friend along the way. To make our meeting more comfortable." One of Gamma's men hands over a brown sack, and there's something dark staining it. Dino couldn't tell; the sun's hidden behind the clouds. "I know you two were close." And Gamma simply turns over the sack and lets whatever it is inside drop carelessly to the ground below. Long white hair, face frozen in perpetual disregard.
Dino bites down on his bottom lip and looks away. Something inside him cracks a little. Maybe it's his resolve, maybe it's his undying optimism. They'll be fine, huh? But he shakes that thought away before it snowballs into a bigger one. Of course they will be. He just has to take this in stride, like he always has.
"We can have a tea party. The three of us, like old times-" Another smirk. "Won't you come say hello?"
He doesn't smile this time. Instead, his lips stretch out into a thin line, oddly straight and not quite fitting for the man who smiles like the sun. His body is stiff. Tense. His men behind him are the same. He glances back at them, slowly relaxes, and finally lets his ring burn with a bright orange flare. A box is pulled out, activated, and soon enough, there's the familiar weight of his whip in his hand, a line of flames licking down its length every now and then. A representation of the sky, the sky that's missing right now.
But it doesn't matter one bit.
It's not him who makes the first move, but he doesn't fail to follow through. Gamma aims to strike him down with a tower of electricity, but he counters by bringing out another box, summoning an arc of water around him and his men. It tranquilizes the attack's intensity, but it's not enough to stop a faint jolt from passing right through them. For this, Dino apologizes with a sheepish smile, but at least it looks like everyone's unharmed.
Another whistle, and an easy-going smile. "Looking out for others already? You should be more worried about your own welfare."
"I don't need to," and Dino says this without a hint of arrogance, "Just leave them out of this if you want me all to yourself."
Gamma laughs, holds his cue stick in a horizontal manner, parallel to the ground, with the electric balls floating around him. "I'll give you my word for that," it all sounds smooth and sweet, "but I can't guarantee you everything." Because his men are on the move too, attacking from all directions. Dino's men are just as ready, just as aggressive, and just as willing to die as the rest of them.
And it's a battle that lasts for hours.
People from both sides dying left and right, fighting gunfire with gunfire, blades with blades, flames against flames. It doesn't matter who you're fighting for, because it's all about who has the stronger dying will. The will to stay alive.
Somewhere along the line, Dino got separated from his men because everyone scattered and Gamma kept drawing him out as far away from where they are. He hasn't stopped worrying about them since. But it doesn't reflect in his moves, the way he allowed his whip to follow his rhythm and flow. Each twist of his arm and wrist make for subtle control, but definite grace-they hit the mark, no matter which way he wants to go. But there's a small problem. Both Gamma and he are able to avoid and counter each other's attacks quite well.
A stalemate, and neither one of them is satisfied with that.
"Not bad, Don Cavallone," comments Gamma, and Dino can't help but smile at that. That's just who he is.
"You're not so bad yourself," he replies truthfully, with nothing else attached.
It's almost nice to be able to talk like this. As if nothing's wrong. As if this is just a friendly spar between two equally-matched people. But that's just too much to hope for, Dino thinks, as he prepares himself for another attack. Gamma charges at him; close combat, so he has to think fast, but think straight at the same time. He uses the few short seconds to swing his arm up in a constant, fluid motion, his whip fully extending throughout the upswing, and then he steps forward and snaps his wrist to throw the whip at Gamma directly ahead. A loud crack, but his target easily swerves to the left. Which is exactly what Dino's been waiting for.
He brings his feet together and turns in a roundabout clockwise way, swinging his whip over his head. When he can see Gamma again, he directs the whip in the right direction and reverses it as quickly as he could, creating a loop that neatly wraps itself around the other man's neck. Gamma never sees it coming.
"This is the end," Dino states, as he pulls on the whip to tighten its grip. It's a guaranteed win, but he doesn't look too happy about it. He looks somber, almost, a little apologetic. But maybe it's because he's about to snuff out another life-it doesn't even matter who it belongs to-and that kind of thing never really sits well with him. It's not his style, if he could help it, but right now, he has no choice, because if he let this man go, if he let him live-he might regret it in the long run. And this isn't even about revenge, or making Gamma pay for everything he and the Millefiore did to everyone Dino knows, but it's just the fact that if he stays alive, then more people would get hurt. More people would die.
That's the only thing pushing Dino into killing him right there and then.
But there's a sudden bangbangbang from behind him, and then the next thing he knew, he's on his knees, crashing face first to the concrete ground. Three bullets, two pierced right through the center of his guts, and one close to his heart, but not close enough. He twitches, shaking, trembling, struggling to raise himself up, to stand up again, but he couldn't. Laughter is the next thing he hears, but it's not coming from Gamma.
"We did it, captain! We won-"
For once, Dino's glad he isn't looking, because what he hears next is enough to tell him what happened. The cackle of a huge blast of electricity, followed by an ear-splitting shriek, and then it's silent once more. Just like that.
The click and clack of boots against concrete suggests that Gamma closed the distance between the two of them. "Now where were we?" is the disinterested question, aloof, as if nothing happened. But Dino knows that Gamma's pissed off. Who wouldn't be, after something like that. "Oh, yes," there's the crackling of high voltage again, "I was about to show you the doorway to heaven."
Dino would've refuted-wasn't it the other way around?-but he can't find his voice.
"Scared, Don Cavallone?"
But Dino doesn't answer yet.
He doesn't know why he remembers it now, that dream he had hours before this whole mess. The dream itself never finishes, but the memory is still clear inside his head. It manifests itself, like a vision with ghosts and whispers-Zucco's voice asks him the same thing. Scared, Dino?
Are you scared of death?
His answer comes out as gargled sounds, with blood pouring out of his lips. They're broken sounds that seem almost desperate, sick, amused, and maybe even a little sad.
His final laughter.
Dino wonders if this is how it had been like for Tsuna, when it happened to him just a few months ago. Did he regret the same things, was he crying and smiling like Dino is right now-was he scared? Were you scared, my cute little brother? But he doesn't find an answer. Not that he needs to look for one, because he can guess what it had been like. It's happening to him right now, isn't it? He can't help but widen his smile just a tad. Hah-or maybe it's not even the same at all.
Who knows. But if Romario was here, then he would-oh, oh, that's right.
"Is that a yes, then?"
Yes.
"... No."
I'm sorry-
title. Last Minute.
genre. Drama.
rating. PG13.
characters. Dino Cavallone, Gamma, Zucco; Katekyo Hitman REBORN!
warnings. ... hahaha. Uhm. Death? Who knows.
wordcount. 3316.
notes. Zucco is a character named in the Dino-centric novel, Haneuma Stampede. And somehow, This Is Your Life by Switchfoot fits this whole thing v. well.
disclaimer. Bodies, limbs, thoughts, &things aren't mine. I just pull the strings &stay on the sidelines, 'cause that's where the puppeteer belongs when her dolls are strutting all over the stage.
synopsis. "Scared, Don Cavallone?"
But Dino doesn't answer yet.
He doesn't know why he remembers it now, that dream he had hours before this whole mess. The dream itself never finishes, but the memory is still clear inside his head. It manifests itself, like a vision with ghosts and whispers-Zucco's voice asks him the same thing. Scared, Dino?
Are you scared of death?
PG13 | DREAM | 3316
A sharp jab to the chest, and the wind's knocked right off him. He stumbles, almost topples backward, but someone grabs him from behind and keeps him upright. That person hooks their arms underneath his and holds him like that, no escape, no backing out. And he braces himself, because he knows what comes next. A rain of punches, all aimed to make him bruise and bleed, a kick here and there, and even someone clawing at his skin, tearing at his flesh. People are jeering, laughing, pointing at him.
Just look at him! All the cuts and bruises and blood in between. Tears are threatening to spring from his eyes, and he's already trembling. Nearing the point of passing out, but someone keeps slapping him awake. Maybe it's Zucco's voice, or Zucco's foul breath on his face-he can't tell which. Then there are the sounds of people gasping, oooh'ing and aaah'ing, and then silence, the kind you associate when certain doom ( your doom, no less ) is approaching. Did he make a face? Scrunch up his nose in disgust, because he's sick of breathing in that stench?
"What was that look for, Dino?"
He freezes. Hah-it seems even his very own body betrays him now.
There's an easy smile on his lips. It's almost disarming, but it doesn't stop the punches from coming. It might have made their intensity even worse. But he takes every single one of them, barely making a sound save for the few incoherent ones. He knows he looks pathetic right now, and he can already hear Reborn chiding him in his head. No good, no good. You're the future Tenth boss of the Cavallone family. This is unacceptable. And Dino laughs, mentally, because to laugh out loud now is suicide, right?, and he laughs and laughs and laughs.
Because he can hear the tone and knows how the words will flow out of Reborn's mouth. It's ridiculous, the baby will say in disapproval. This is ridiculous, Dino thinks, it's ridiculous that he has to hear it from a child not even a year old but old enough to know everything there is about the world, how it works, and what Dino's part is in this whole thing more than he does. Maybe that's why he's laughing. Maybe that's why he stops and flashes a rueful smile instead.
There's something sad about this, he reasons, but whatever thought follows that is cut short when Zucco's voice floats back to his ears, along with the reminder of how much pain he's in right now. He cringes.
"Hey, Dino," comes the drawn-out growl, low and threatening. He opens his eyes the moment chubby fingers grab at his shirt's collar, and he blinks. A twisted grin is on Zucco's face, and Dino doesn't really know why it's there. Doesn't dare to ask.
"H-hey, Zucco." It comes out a little airy. Maybe a bit dizzy. The smell of blood is right under his nose, his eyes, his face, his shirt ( ah-Romario will give him that look again, reproachful, but soft, never judgmental ), everywhere. It's a little funny that all Dino could think of is how will he explain this to Reborn, to Romario, to all the people he's letting down by allowing himself to get tangled up in such a mess. I'm sorry, maybe that's how he'll start it, they caught me from behind, didn't see their hands-it's fine, it doesn't hurt as much anymore-
But there's another kind of ache, and it starts at his neck. It's telling him, hey, I'm a little stiff, so can you move your head a little? He shifts, ends up dipping his nose in something moist, something that smells funny. It wakes him with a start. He's finally aware of the hard surface his head is settled on, also becomes aware of the rustling of papers as he moves his hand to push himself up to properly lean back against the chair. Blinking, he looks down at his desk and notices the small puddle of drool. He almost laughs. A man of his age, thirty-two and counting, still drooling in his sleep. Maybe this is a sign that he needs to relax a little.
He smiles fondly while wiping his nose and lips clean with his sleeve, looking at nothing in particular, as if deep in thought. Seeing as he fell asleep inside his office, on his desk no less, maybe he should give himself a little breather. Forget everything for a moment, and massage his neck while he's at it. It's only for a few seconds anyway. Briefly, he wonders why Romario hasn't-the smile vanishes from his face-oh. Oh, that's right. How silly of him to keep forgetting.
Romario died three days ago.
He was killed-no-he shoved Dino away from the bomb that was meant for him and left behind nothing but the memory of his last serene smile. Dino blames himself for this ( he does it every time another life is claimed instead of his ) and maybe he'll never forgive himself. But he understands that this is how cruel the world can get, and he tries to move on, as best as he can. It's a grim smile that graces his lips this time.
They weren't even able to give him a proper funeral.
A sigh; it's small and quiet. That moment is gone now, the few seconds. He didn't even realize.
From his peripheral view, he notices that there's a car that just pulled up by the driveway. "Bono," he breathes out, and he promptly smiles in amusement. His voice sounds so muted inside this room. Can't help but laugh a little, dry, but it's not without a smidge of mirth. He's not that gone yet, he reminds himself. Romario wouldn't like it if he is.
The window tells him that Bono is no longer inside the car, but probably somewhere near the door by now. Time to make yourself a bit more presentable. Quickly, he runs a hand through his hair, mussing it up, combing it straight. He fixes his tie, smoothes out the creases on his shirt, clears his desk of all the clutter, and swipes the small puddle with his handkerchief as a finishing touch. There. All done. And just in time too.
Knock, knock.
"Who's there?"
It's the start of a joke.
"Boss-" Dino could tell it's not going to be a funny one. "-it seems Sasagawa Ryohei and the Varia were caught up in an ambush by Irie Shouichi's squad yesterday." He doesn't move; just sits there and waits for Bono to finish. Bono goes on, his voice just as dismal as the atmosphere. "There- ... weren't any survivors," the older man finishes, and neither one of them says a word after that.
It's a rigid, sterile sort of silence.
Bono looks at him expectantly. Dino looks back.
"Boss?" Say something. Please. That's what the look on Bono's face is telling him right now.
Dino's lips twitch, curve up a little, and smile. It's a joke, right? Even if it's not funny. But there's a sinking feeling that hazes over his whole mood, twisting it around until everything's upside-down. He looks tired now, body shifting to prop an elbow against the desk so he can hold his head. A headache forms, and he can't even find the words to say anymore. Maybe he's not supposed to. Maybe he should just leave it at that. But Bono doesn't move from where he is, as if waiting.
Dino looks up, and for a moment, he's expressionless, but in the end, the smile he's infamous for is back. Don't worry, don't worry, is what he's trying to say in that certain curve of his lips. "The Varia is an elite squad. I'm sure they won't go down that easily," is how he starts, calmly, securely, "And as for Sasagawa Ryohei-he's the Vongola's Sun Guardian. He'll be fine."
They'll be fine.
"There's no way-" they're dead. But he can't say this out loud, can't bring himself to finish the sentence. It would almost feel like he was jinxing it, if he did. But it's not like he needs to, because it looks like what he said is enough to placate Bono's worries. His smile brightens a little. As long as their spirits aren't as bleak as the day today, and the days ahead of them, they should be fine.
They'll be fine.
But then there's the unmistakable sound of gunfire from not so faraway, rata-tat-tat like a clock on fastforward. Dino's already on his feet, barking orders at a startled Bono, missing not a single beat. "Round everybody up! If there's anyone injured, take care of them first, and then drive the enemy back. Tell Romario to find me-" And it's only right after he got out of his office and jumped off the balcony that he realizes the last bit of that can't really be fulfilled.
He almost stops, but he doesn't. He can't waste any time on this. Not when other lives are at stake-
Instincts tell him to look up, and he does, just in time to hear the telltale clickclickclick and see that there are three pool balls headed straight for him. Electricity zips along their surface like an intricate web, would've shot him dead had he not run off to the side, barely missing a direct hit. He hears a slick laugh, and that makes him look up again. He almost freezes. Because floating in the air, with the same electric web as the three balls, is the man he's been told to watch out for.
"Oh? You're faster than I expected," is what the man says. There's an air of smugness around him, and it makes Dino narrows his eyes a little, but for the most part, his face remains neutral. He hasn't pulled out his weapon-not yet, not yet. All he does is watch as a lazy smirk forms on the man's face, one hand combing through blond hair just like his. "Just for that maybe I'll introduce myself."
But Dino never lets him. "Electric Gamma, captain of the third Alephandra Squad. Is that right?" A polite tone, as always. Calm as ever. There's no need to panic anyway.
A smooth whistle, and then Gamma hovers a bit closer to the ground, but not quite enough. "You've done your homework," he says, cue stick in hand, ready to pounce at any moment.
"Not quite. I've just heard a lot about you." But Dino finds himself thinking, even glancing around from left to right as inconspicuously as he could, is he the only one out here? Where are the rest of them?
Gamma seems to have noticed the look on his face. "They're around," he asserts, succeeding in raising a few hairs on Dino's arms. "But you don't have to worry about them. It's just you and me, you know, but it doesn't have to be. Your choice." And as if on cue, men in black uniform suddenly zoomed in his line of view, all floating nearby and around their captain. It only takes a few seconds later for Dino's men to appear, armed and ready to protect their boss too.
Dino glances back at them, looks as if he has something to say, but gets cut off quite effortlessly.
"Don Cavallone," and he's right back to looking up at Gamma, "I forgot that I've brought a friend along the way. To make our meeting more comfortable." One of Gamma's men hands over a brown sack, and there's something dark staining it. Dino couldn't tell; the sun's hidden behind the clouds. "I know you two were close." And Gamma simply turns over the sack and lets whatever it is inside drop carelessly to the ground below. Long white hair, face frozen in perpetual disregard.
Dino bites down on his bottom lip and looks away. Something inside him cracks a little. Maybe it's his resolve, maybe it's his undying optimism. They'll be fine, huh? But he shakes that thought away before it snowballs into a bigger one. Of course they will be. He just has to take this in stride, like he always has.
"We can have a tea party. The three of us, like old times-" Another smirk. "Won't you come say hello?"
He doesn't smile this time. Instead, his lips stretch out into a thin line, oddly straight and not quite fitting for the man who smiles like the sun. His body is stiff. Tense. His men behind him are the same. He glances back at them, slowly relaxes, and finally lets his ring burn with a bright orange flare. A box is pulled out, activated, and soon enough, there's the familiar weight of his whip in his hand, a line of flames licking down its length every now and then. A representation of the sky, the sky that's missing right now.
But it doesn't matter one bit.
It's not him who makes the first move, but he doesn't fail to follow through. Gamma aims to strike him down with a tower of electricity, but he counters by bringing out another box, summoning an arc of water around him and his men. It tranquilizes the attack's intensity, but it's not enough to stop a faint jolt from passing right through them. For this, Dino apologizes with a sheepish smile, but at least it looks like everyone's unharmed.
Another whistle, and an easy-going smile. "Looking out for others already? You should be more worried about your own welfare."
"I don't need to," and Dino says this without a hint of arrogance, "Just leave them out of this if you want me all to yourself."
Gamma laughs, holds his cue stick in a horizontal manner, parallel to the ground, with the electric balls floating around him. "I'll give you my word for that," it all sounds smooth and sweet, "but I can't guarantee you everything." Because his men are on the move too, attacking from all directions. Dino's men are just as ready, just as aggressive, and just as willing to die as the rest of them.
And it's a battle that lasts for hours.
People from both sides dying left and right, fighting gunfire with gunfire, blades with blades, flames against flames. It doesn't matter who you're fighting for, because it's all about who has the stronger dying will. The will to stay alive.
Somewhere along the line, Dino got separated from his men because everyone scattered and Gamma kept drawing him out as far away from where they are. He hasn't stopped worrying about them since. But it doesn't reflect in his moves, the way he allowed his whip to follow his rhythm and flow. Each twist of his arm and wrist make for subtle control, but definite grace-they hit the mark, no matter which way he wants to go. But there's a small problem. Both Gamma and he are able to avoid and counter each other's attacks quite well.
A stalemate, and neither one of them is satisfied with that.
"Not bad, Don Cavallone," comments Gamma, and Dino can't help but smile at that. That's just who he is.
"You're not so bad yourself," he replies truthfully, with nothing else attached.
It's almost nice to be able to talk like this. As if nothing's wrong. As if this is just a friendly spar between two equally-matched people. But that's just too much to hope for, Dino thinks, as he prepares himself for another attack. Gamma charges at him; close combat, so he has to think fast, but think straight at the same time. He uses the few short seconds to swing his arm up in a constant, fluid motion, his whip fully extending throughout the upswing, and then he steps forward and snaps his wrist to throw the whip at Gamma directly ahead. A loud crack, but his target easily swerves to the left. Which is exactly what Dino's been waiting for.
He brings his feet together and turns in a roundabout clockwise way, swinging his whip over his head. When he can see Gamma again, he directs the whip in the right direction and reverses it as quickly as he could, creating a loop that neatly wraps itself around the other man's neck. Gamma never sees it coming.
"This is the end," Dino states, as he pulls on the whip to tighten its grip. It's a guaranteed win, but he doesn't look too happy about it. He looks somber, almost, a little apologetic. But maybe it's because he's about to snuff out another life-it doesn't even matter who it belongs to-and that kind of thing never really sits well with him. It's not his style, if he could help it, but right now, he has no choice, because if he let this man go, if he let him live-he might regret it in the long run. And this isn't even about revenge, or making Gamma pay for everything he and the Millefiore did to everyone Dino knows, but it's just the fact that if he stays alive, then more people would get hurt. More people would die.
That's the only thing pushing Dino into killing him right there and then.
But there's a sudden bangbangbang from behind him, and then the next thing he knew, he's on his knees, crashing face first to the concrete ground. Three bullets, two pierced right through the center of his guts, and one close to his heart, but not close enough. He twitches, shaking, trembling, struggling to raise himself up, to stand up again, but he couldn't. Laughter is the next thing he hears, but it's not coming from Gamma.
"We did it, captain! We won-"
For once, Dino's glad he isn't looking, because what he hears next is enough to tell him what happened. The cackle of a huge blast of electricity, followed by an ear-splitting shriek, and then it's silent once more. Just like that.
The click and clack of boots against concrete suggests that Gamma closed the distance between the two of them. "Now where were we?" is the disinterested question, aloof, as if nothing happened. But Dino knows that Gamma's pissed off. Who wouldn't be, after something like that. "Oh, yes," there's the crackling of high voltage again, "I was about to show you the doorway to heaven."
Dino would've refuted-wasn't it the other way around?-but he can't find his voice.
"Scared, Don Cavallone?"
But Dino doesn't answer yet.
He doesn't know why he remembers it now, that dream he had hours before this whole mess. The dream itself never finishes, but the memory is still clear inside his head. It manifests itself, like a vision with ghosts and whispers-Zucco's voice asks him the same thing. Scared, Dino?
Are you scared of death?
His answer comes out as gargled sounds, with blood pouring out of his lips. They're broken sounds that seem almost desperate, sick, amused, and maybe even a little sad.
His final laughter.
Dino wonders if this is how it had been like for Tsuna, when it happened to him just a few months ago. Did he regret the same things, was he crying and smiling like Dino is right now-was he scared? Were you scared, my cute little brother? But he doesn't find an answer. Not that he needs to look for one, because he can guess what it had been like. It's happening to him right now, isn't it? He can't help but widen his smile just a tad. Hah-or maybe it's not even the same at all.
Who knows. But if Romario was here, then he would-oh, oh, that's right.
"Is that a yes, then?"
Yes.
"... No."
I'm sorry-
title. Last Minute.
genre. Drama.
rating. PG13.
characters. Dino Cavallone, Gamma, Zucco; Katekyo Hitman REBORN!
warnings. ... hahaha. Uhm. Death? Who knows.
wordcount. 3316.
notes. Zucco is a character named in the Dino-centric novel, Haneuma Stampede. And somehow, This Is Your Life by Switchfoot fits this whole thing v. well.
disclaimer. Bodies, limbs, thoughts, &things aren't mine. I just pull the strings &stay on the sidelines, 'cause that's where the puppeteer belongs when her dolls are strutting all over the stage.
synopsis. "Scared, Don Cavallone?"
But Dino doesn't answer yet.
He doesn't know why he remembers it now, that dream he had hours before this whole mess. The dream itself never finishes, but the memory is still clear inside his head. It manifests itself, like a vision with ghosts and whispers-Zucco's voice asks him the same thing. Scared, Dino?
Are you scared of death?