Warning: BL, a little swearing
Note/Info: This is pretty much considered a standalone, because the 'continuation' was written beforehand, in Yamamoto's point of view.
The Yamamoto Litmus Test
It was a glorious morning. The air smelled of summer, and Gokudera awoke, greeted by birdsong and the early insects singing their part. The day was looking forward. He stretched, pushed his pillow aside, sat up and got onto his feet.
Merely a few steps were taken before he promptly tripped over a baseball.
"Fricking baseball!" He flung the ball to a corner, furious at it.
After a short moment of silence, however, the boy crept up to the ball and picked it back up to place it gently on his bedside table, his face flushing scarlet. There were times when Gokudera was glad he lived alone; if anyone had seen his reaction, he'd never be able to live it down.
The boy briskly got ready for school - washing up, breakfast, putting the things away and picking up his bag went without a hitch now that his apartment's floor had been cleared of offending baseballs. Speaking of baseballs lying around his home, it was a pretty recent development as to how he ended up having some rather complicated feelings.
For one, the Italian boy had, as of late, emotions deep within him which exploded like C-4's, the nauseating, breathless realization that his heart was about to go off like a time bomb, and the acute awareness of his own eyes lighting up like a Molotov Cocktail every time that annoying Yamamoto-baseball-bastard either entered as a subject of conversation or his area of vision. It was frustrating. It soured his mood and walk to the school.
Because, as everyone knew, he, Gokudera Hayato, the Smokin' Bomb, was not in love. Certainly not in love. He had no crushes, no fancy romantic feelings or attachments of any sort, and all that uneasiness he'd been feeling lately, it was pure hatred. Yes, he hated Yamamoto Takeshi so much, he'd pick a baseball he'd hit home and keep it as a voodoo doll to curse that dumb Japanese bastard to hell.
Gokudera growled, shoving his hands in his pockets. He hated school, and how he had to see Yamamoto there, spoiling his mood daily, being so close to the Tenth Vongola boss and all. Tsuna was the greatest man on earth, and Yamamoto should keep his grubby, mud-stained, baseball hitting, sexy hands to himself.
Sexy?
No, no, no, not sexy. He really meant ugly. Yeah, Yamamoto sure had ugly hands. They were nice to look at, though. Gokudera idly wondered how they would feel against his skin.
"Shit!"
Upon letting the word leave his lips, several other students cowered in fear, inching away from the brooding schoolboy. Gokudera glanced up, still angry with himself, when he caught sight of Tsuna. "JYUUDAIME!"
The morning's events were quickly forgotten as he spent some time beside the best boss in the world. Tsuna wasn't very evasive anymore - a little tense, still, perhaps - but not so terribly frightened, which put the Italian boy at ease. Better yet, Yamamoto wasn't around! There was no one to spoil his morning, talking about useless things like unfinished homework, lousy grades and baseball with one hell of a sexy voice. Life was good. Summer was approaching.
In fact, a warm summer day was well spent on counting bombs during a free period. Gokudera took them out and shuffled through them, marking them as he went. "...He loves me. He loves me not. He loves me." He then stopped short. Why on earth had he brought an odd number of bombs? No, worse yet, why was he even getting into the "he loves me, he loves me not" incantation? His fist met the desk with a loud bang and several students jumped.
"Umm... Gokuderakun, is... something wrong?" a nervous voice caught his attention. It was Tsuna wearing a worried, frightened expression on his face. Gokudera felt bad almost immediately. What sort of right-hand man would embarrass his boss like that?
"I'm fine. There was just... a bug on my desk. Yeah. A bug."
Before either boy could say anything more, the class representative got up, a signal for them to prepare for chemistry. The lab was filled accordingly, and each student handed a few bottles of acid and alkaline mixtures as well as strips of litmus paper. Gokudera stared at them, an idea forming in his mind. The teacher began to speak, but he paid no attention to it. This one thing would knock those irritating feelings out, and prove the peculiar incidents of the day wrong. It'd prove that he was in fact not infatuated with Yamamoto Takeshi, baseball freak extraordinaire. And then life would return to normal and he would be the best right-hand man in the world again.
He picked up a strip of litmus paper.
If it showed red, he was in love. If it showed blue, he was not in love.
And then he reached, most cunningly, to the bottle labeled with some kind of alkaline water. He dipped the litmus paper in.
It turned red.
Gokudera reeled back, very much in shock, his seat pushed back and toppling over with a crash. Almost as immediate as his outburst, he flung his bag over his shoulder and dashed out of the lab.
"...I'm sorry to inform you but the bottles have been labeled wrongly - the acid seems to be labeled as alkaline ones, so please－ Gokuderakun!?"
His heart was thumping wildly. Gokudera was seriously freaked out. He had to think. His head felt like it was on fire. How did it happen? Even alkaline couldn't turn his love-meter paper blue. He stumbled towards a small shed right at the side of the field, hidden in one corner and sank to his knees, huddling next to the wall. The bell signaling the end of school rang, but Gokudera stayed put. Most of the students spilled out of the school, going their separate ways - some home, some to their club rooms.
The boys from the baseball club began to fill the field. Numerous cracks of the bat were heard - there was some yelling, some laughter, and there were plenty of smiles that went around. Gokudera watched them, unseen from his hiding place. His legs had stopped shaking, and he focused on sorting his feelings out. It wasn't very complicated. It was bad news, to say the least, if he truly were in love with someone, say, Yamamoto for example, but what were the chances of him liking someone who was pretty much that brainless of a dolt?
If he were in love, wouldn't it be more logical if it were with Tsuna? Who was, by the by, the manliest, coolest, most wonderful boss in the whole wide world? That would make a lot more sense.
He turned once more to face the field. Gokudera observed how happy Yamamoto looked under the blue sky. Laughing, carefree, and most of all, not one bit of malice in his eyes - so very unlike everyone he'd met in Italy. So very unlike the students he'd met in Japan.
Being in love with Tsuna instead would have made a lot more sense. But in the end, his own heart had defied logic. For, however many excuses that Gokudera would feed himself and his thoughts, the truth was the truth. Even the litmus paper, with all precision, couldn't lie. Even if it were a mistake or some sort of freak accident that had caused it to happen, perhaps 'coincidence' was playing its hand in it as well. There was simply no running away.
He watched the baseball players a bit more, and sighed.
Embarrassed and defeated, the Italian boy got up and darted back into the school building. While he was yet walking down the empty passageway, he chanced upon the teachers' room. Curiosity got the better of him - how were they performing? Well, more specifically, did his boss need any mentoring? He sneaked inside, seeing nobody around, and began rifling through the drawer of his class teacher.
Nimble fingers flipped over to one particular folder. Biting his lip, he pried it open. Yamamoto Takeshi's report was pretty bad that term. For a few moments, Gokudera thought of Yamamoto stuck in extra class, unhappy when unable to go out into the sunshine to play baseball. Slowly and silently, he closed the card, slipped it back into the drawer and made his way out of the room.
He shouldn't have looked. Rushing out, he made way for the open school gate. And to his shock, he bumped right into someone.
"Watch where you're going!" he snapped. He looked up, only to discover that it had been Yamamoto he'd run into. Gokudera went red in his face, not at all realizing how much he looked like a flustered cat caught in the act of stealing some liver.
"Ha ha, sorry." The grin and apology somehow soothed his nerves. Gokudera glared at Yamamoto, turned around and started to walk away. "Whoa, hey! We're going the same way." The sound of footsteps caught up to him, and he found Yamamoto following him. It was surprising how his heart couldn't stop beating so fast. He cast a glare over his shoulder, mustering all he could to push down his anxiety.
The day was was blue and bright - however much Gokudera saw red that day, it seemed like things would just fall into place. Summer break was approaching, catching up fast. The day wore on, its bright sun shining down on the two boys. At that moment, if there was anything Gokudera secretly wanted to hear most in the world, it wasn't the "you're a great right-hand man" he'd usually wanted.
"I didn't say you could join me, you stupid baseball freak!"
Perhaps that'd be the start of it all - of wanting more than just rivalry. Or maybe it was a realization, after it having started a long time ago; Gokudera didn't know. But when you start seeing red under the bluest sky in summer, perhaps it was more evident that you were really in love - are now, and always have been, even without realizing it.
END
