29 July '07 - Katekyo Hitman Reborn! - stray [Gokudera]

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Title: stray
Day/Theme: July 29 2007/Head up high, hopes down low
Fandom: Katekyo Hitman Reborn!
Characters: Gokudera, Reborn
Rating: PG-13 (language)
Note: Gen set a few days prior to Gokudera's first appearance.

 

 

"Hey. How long is it before we fly?"

The man behind the desk looked up from his paperwork, blinked, and said, "No smoking zone from here on. We mean that very seriously." He pointed his thumb at the sign on the wall behind him.

Gokudera leaned over a little to see it: the normal picture of a cigarette with a line drawn through it, and below that, a gun with a tick mark beside it.

"The pilot made us get a sharpshooter for people who don't obey the sign. He really doesn't like the smell of cigarette smoke."

"...Right." Gokudera put back the cigarette he was about to light and wished that Reborn had booked him on a legal flight. "So then the only advantage this is supposed to have is that it's faster than the normal airlines. What's taking so long?"

"Well ... you probably picked up that the pilot's kind of nuts, right?"

Gokudera stared. "That's the reason?"

The man shrugged apologetically. "Flies like an ace, though. And you'll get to help shoot down aircraft from rival families once you get up there! And ... you can get coffee while you wait."

"S'fine." Gokudera turned and stomped back to his seat by the wall. He was wound up enough without pouring caffeine on top. He didn't like that the flight was delayed, and he really didn't like that he wasn't supposed to smoke, which kept him from using his dynamite effectively. Was this a set-up after all?

He looked around the waiting room, and leaned over enough to see the airstrip outside. There were few other people visible, all of them in the room - a man flipping through a magazine, a girl eating peanuts, and two women talking quietly, plus the guy at the desk. The other potential passengers all had bulging bags with them, and there could be any amount of weapons behind that desk. Gokudera took out his lighter and toyed with it so he had that flame on hand, just in case.

There were things going down here he didn't know about. Gokudera was well aware of that, but instinct still said that it really was the Ninth's most famous assassin that had contacted him. Rico never could've faked that slack-jawed astonished look when he'd walked out of the bistro's private back room and to the booth where Gokudera sat, held out his cell phone and said, "Reborn. Wants to talk to you."

Gokudera had squinted at him like he was fine print, then whipped his cig out of his mouth to make sure he could speak completely clearly. "Reborn Reborn?"

Rico couldn't have faked that sudden, irritated suspicion when he smacked the back of Gokudera's head, either. "Who d'ya think? There's only one guy with that name!"

Rico had stood by the booth and kept watching, and Gokudera had seen his nostrils twitching that way they did when he was really on edge - usually he got that way when he was going out on the jobs Gokudera wasn't ranked highly enough to help with. Gokudera had listened carefully to the voice from the phone and kept his answers as short as could still sound respectful.

"What the hell was that about?" Rico asked when Gokudera ended the call and stared at the phone in disbelief.

"Like you weren't listening?" Gokudera pulled a sneer across his face as he stood and threw the cell phone at Rico to keep his hands full.

It didn't work - Rico batted the phone aside with a fist, and Gokudera had been careful not to flinch when it clattered to the ground. He'd looked up at the man he was supposed to call 'boss' this month and kept his eyes half-lidded in that way that showed how unimpressed he was. It tended to drive adults nuts.

"A kid like you, talking to Reborn - a little out of the ordinary, huh? What the hell's that about?"

"None of your business," Gokudera said, stepping closer to Rico in challenge. "I can say whatever the hell I like to him - and why should it bother you, anyway? You got anything our big boss's trusted man shouldn't know about?"

The room had gone still when the phone had hit the ground, but now every rustle of clothing and quiet swallow resounded. Everyone else who was hanging round the meeting spot was obviously watching.

Rico tried for a genial smile, but his nostrils were still doing their gross quivering. "I don't. And you know that, too. So if ever you feel the need to think up a story or two when you're trying to make your way up the ladder, well. You'd be the one who has to be careful after that."

"Thanks for the advice." Gokudera had shoved past him with an elbow to his gut, making the best of it - everyone was watching, and apparently he had the ear of Reborn, so for a while he'd be more or less untouchable.

He'd felt his face fall in the weirdest way once he'd passed the street front window of the bistro, collapsing along lines of complete shock. He'd wanted to go to his flat and sit and think, but Rico might show up if he felt inclined to continue their conversation. So he'd walked through the streets, briskly and without a destination in mind, checking now and again for anyone following him.

He wasn't feeling as lost now as he had then, but it was a close thing.

Gokudera slouched forwards in his chair and once again went over the conclusions he'd reached on that walk. The foremost: This is ridiculous.

No way could a guy like him be a candidate for being the tenth generation boss. He'd been in the Vongola family for two years, but he hadn't been with the same superior for three months running. But that meant he knew a lot of the low-to-mid ranked people in the family, and even some guys pretty high up...

"You've been around," he remembered a child's squeaky voice saying over the phone. "You're well-acquainted with how the family works on ground level. I've heard you've got good general knowledge of all mafia workings, too. That will be useful for us in future."

It had sounded like Reborn was smiling. Gokudera supposed it was a positive sign when a hitman was in a good mood while talking to you. Probably.

"Is there precedent?" he'd asked, sure because of his 'good general knowledge' that there wasn't, and wondering what was going on.

"Not really," Reborn had said, in a way that made it sound as if it didn't matter. "These are unusual circumstances. You know more about the business than the bloodline descendant. A kid called Tsunayoshi Sawada, the same age as you. Given that, if you beat him, you have a good argument for becoming a candidate for boss."

That would pit him against all sorts who wanted the same spot ... assuming he got that far.

He looked round the room again, snapping the lid of his lighter open and shut. He definitely didn't recognise any of the other people. None of them would have a personal grudge against him, then.

What was in it for anyone if he was killed? If this was a setup, it was damned elaborate, and that kind of hit was usually punishment for betrayal. That was one thing no one could accuse him of. Plenty of people had looked for excuses to kick him out of the Vongola, but none of them had been dumb enough to accuse him of betrayal. He'd made sure he was always more useful than not, doing the jobs that others didn't want to, and he'd stayed in the family.

He couldn't think that his biological family had anything to do with it, either. He'd avoided Bianchi for so long people probably didn't realise they were related, and his father was doing business as usual, with no news of disgruntled customers or associates. Gokudera made a point of it to check regularly for that kind of thing.

So. This was a reward after all? It made no sense as a plot against him.

Was he that hard to kill, anyway? He didn't have the money or the connections to protect himself. Rico could have done it easily - by calling him to the back room of the meeting place, maybe, or waiting until he finally stopped by his apartment to pick up a few things.

Gokudera gave the pocket containing his cigarettes a longing look, wishing for a little security, then snapped the lid of his lighter shut. If no one was trying to kill him, then he shouldn't tempt fate and make the freaking sharpshooter do it anyway.

He was going to Japan. Why the hell was he going to Japan?

It was an opportunity. He could ... he could...

He couldn't imagine being the boss. People standing at his back, and he wasn't supposed to expect a knife or a gun or a chainsaw (some of the latest recruits were serious freaks) between the shoulder blades?

He'd seen enough of the people in charge expecting that kind of thing and eyeing everyone suspiciously because of it - even him, sometimes when he was brand new to their outfit, and other times when he'd been working with them for weeks. He never could decide which was worse. There was nothing like it to piss him off, even if that attitude wasn't really that unreasonable.

But he was going to Japan.

It made sense, suddenly. One last look around the room showed that everyone was as privately preoccupied as before, looking like no more than bored people waiting for a flight. Gokudera pocketed his lighter.

He was going to stick with the Vongola - he'd decided that two years ago - and so this Tsunayoshi guy was someone he'd have to put up with in future. It wouldn't hurt to go see what kind of person he was. He might even fight him to see if the guy was as under-qualified as Reborn said. It would be for the good of the Vongola in the end.

Maybe he'd find out that he'd have a real boss sometime down the line. Brave enough to show people his back, smart enough to know whether or not he deserved it, and good enough to follow loyally.

Meanwhile, at least he'd have a vacation. He thought of that bastard Rico, probably brooding over his cell phone as if it held all the answers and trying not to get nervous, and he grinned.

Through the window that showed the airstrip, he saw someone running to the plane who was wearing a cowboy hat and carrying what seemed to be an enormous teddy bear.

Gokudera stood up, and the motion caught the eye of the guy behind the desk, who'd also been looking out at the airstrip.

"That's the pilot," the guy said as Gokudera walked over. "Refuses to fly without the bear. Must have misplaced it."

Gokudera decided it was futile to comment. "So we'll be going soon, then."

"Yep. Actually..." He tapped at something on the desk, and spoke into a microphone at the corner of it, making the announcement ring round the room. "You can board now; they seem to be ready for you. Good luck!"

Gokudera would have preferred something like 'pleasant flight'. But you took what you got and made do.