Title: the world has gone and left us here
Fandom: Katekyo Hitman Reborn
Pairing: Gokudera/Haru
Rating: M
Disclaimer: Amano Akira owns all rights to Katekyo Hitman Reborn.
Summary: Chapter 238. If Gokudera, instead of Bianchi, had been the one to meet Haru in the kitchen after she was told the truth about the Vongola.
A/N: More Haru love.

She's ditched cutting the onions for now and is crouched on the linoleum instead, a corner of her apron soaked in her stupid tears. Haru tells herself that she's crying because of the cooking but then a familiar shuffle of feet crosses the threshold. Quickly brushing the tears away, she looks up.

It's Gokudera-kun.

He gives Haru a long stare, his hands shoved in his pockets, and she knows he's taking in her red, watery eyes and the pathetic sight she's making, stooping and sobbing so loudly anyone walking past can hear. He must think Haru is such a nuisance. She angrily tenses, the tears still going and she opens her mouth to tell him to go away and just leave her alone in peace, thank you very much, but her mouth curls downwards and out comes a deep, heavy sob. Her tongue feels too thick and none of the words want to come out because that made it all so, so real.

"The Tenth said he'd told you the truth." He's standing taller now, instead of that I-don't-care-if-the-world-around-me-collapses hunch he carried in high school. She notices now the skull-design box at his hip; it's always strapped there these days, ready for action. Unable to help herself, she thinks on the past few days, when she and Kyoko, Bianchi and the others had made a stand and demanded to know. Now, she wishes she hadn't insisted. Her heart aches for normality, she just wants to open her eyes and wake up in her small bed, smelling her father's morning pot of coffee from downstairs.

Haru buries her head in her lap so Gokudera can't see her face. He's a mean boy; he'd probably make fun of her. Still, even with her hands clapped over her ears, it doesn't drown out his next words, callous like always.

"We're not dead yet, you stupid woman."

Whipping her head up, she glares at him. "Haru knows!"

"Then shut up." She recognises there's no bite and heat. Gokudera's surprisingly calm. Maybe he's trying to be kind, and the thought of him needing to do that for her makes her want to bawl her eyes out more. Everything feels unnatural, sitting here, having people trying to coddle her, to the point where even Gokudera is being nice.

"H-Haru can't help it!"

"You're crying for the wrong reasons!"

It just makes her sob harder. As she glares and whimpers at Gokudera, she sees him get more and more uncomfortable with her tears; he's irritated and his hands go to the back pockets of his jeans to search for a cigarette. He's awkward there, not taking a seat at the table, just sort of leaning against the counter. She narrows her look even more, and he seems to realise what he's doing and though he snarls back, he doesn't put anything to his lips, and mutinously crosses his arms.

"Wh-what's w-w-worst than the world g-going to pieces?! Ha-Haru doesn't want to live in a w-w-world where d-ddanger is around every corner!" She gulps in a breath of air, and then throws her fist down on the linoleum for effect. "Haru doesn't want the people she cares about to be hurt!"

"No one wants that, you idiot!" It's a shout, and for a moment she's stunned, the cycle broken. They're both quiet for a long moment. With a hiss and a curse, Gokudera messes up his hair, and tries again, this time, with a lower tone. "…At least, in this chance, we can protect them still."

Protecting. Everything Tsuna told her is still swirling around in her mind, fresh with keywords like Byakuran and Vongola and my father and mother are missing, I've got to do something, Haru. During the talk, she never got to ask about things, didn't want to either, because it was too much to take and she didn't know if she wanted the truth.

She regarded her year-mate, acquaintance, (friend maybe?) with new eyes. It's in everything, the emotions behind those determined green eyes, the purposeful way his hand curls into a fist, the Vongola ring prominent from the rest of Gokudera's jewellery. He suddenly seems older than the rough, loud and angry boy she's known for months. The strange things he's always saying about mafia and being a right-hand man makes more sense now, but as of this moment, she's not ready. Doesn't want to understand.

Her tears have dried and as she rocks in her curled position, she feels so drained. Haru lets out a long shuddering breath and looks around her. The kitchen is pale, doesn't have any homely touches that her house's kitchen has. Even the salt and pepper shakers are neatly placed, and there are no cute placemats or hanging garlic. Her heart aches a bit, and suddenly, she wants to be anywhere but here, in this room, in the base, in this alternate time. She looks at her hands. They're so small and useless. Her finger pads don't even have calluses, unlike the boys. They've been training all this time. They've had a purpose. She doesn't know what she's doing.

Gokudera shuffles, his chain jangling a bit with the movement, and she glances at him. She doesn't like the knowing quiet that meets her, so now you're up to date, and the thin line of his mouth matches her own. Haru takes in a deep breath to steady herself and tries a brittle smile. Patting her apron down, she stands slowly.

"Haru is happy to find out… Happy that Tsuna shared the truth." She turns her back on him and goes to the chopping board, half-heartedly nicking a few more lines into the onions, but eventually she stills, her elbow sticking out awkwardly. Gokudera hasn't moved. His gaze is hot on the back of her neck. It's strange how he seems to know she's going to break.

In her quietest voice, she talks to him. "Haru needs to get out of here."

She hasn't seen the sky in days. No one's let her outside, because there's no clearance or need to. She doesn't know how her house is faring, whether these Spells have searched the place clean by now. She doesn't know where her parents are.

Gokudera doesn't say anything, but she hears him plunge his hands into his pockets. He spins and she counts his footsteps away from the kitchen, leaving her alone, until she hears him swear a bit. His voice echoes a bit from the corridor.

"…Are you coming?"