notes – judge me not, this pairing intrigues me
The Unfair Game
Gokudera can't figure out how it starts. He throws away nights in bed and thoughts on the road to school, but he never comes to an understanding – which frankly pisses him off. It's about this female, weak and frail with innocent eyes and a smile that isn't weighed down by Descent. She's the whole embodiment of what he never was – the polar opposite to the blood he's split and the scars tattooed on the skin beneath his shirt.
He doesn't regard her as anything more than the lawnhead's kin, the Tenth's love interest – not until the first time she greets him good morning. It startles him, the awkward acknowledgment. It throws him off kilter for a split second too long. He fumbles with a grunt that the baseball idiot helps her decipher this as "a very splendid morning to you too!"
It isn't supposed to mean anything to him – Gokudera offers the same greeting to the Tenth every day, albeit with eleven times the dedication. But something in his stomach twists because he can't just ignore what she did. He can do that with the stupid woman and with Sister, just not her. It's annoying – makes him want to blow stuff up just to mirror what's going on in his mind.
It's a bad day of training; Lal Mirch is more cruel than usual. He receives scathes and bruises that only serve as reminders of what an incompetent right-hand man he is. He denies company with the boys and limps back to his room. He meets her at an intersection of hallways, heaving the laundry basket with her scrawny arms. Her first reaction is to gasp, and he thinks she might ask him 'what happened' and he will have to weave shallow lies pertaining to sumo-wrestling.
But that doesn't happen. She doesn't speak, only bites her lip and shuffles into the storage room down the hall, returning with a roll of bandages. Gokudera tries to decline, but she is determined and they sit against the wall of the corridor, him fighting the urge to just… just storm back to his room and sulk. Isn't that what he'd planned to do? Instead it's her wrapping his wounds with careful hands – skilled actually – and no questions asked. It is then, that Gokudera thinks that she might be scared of him, or at the very least she doesn't know how to carry a conversation with him.
Good, because the feeling's mutual.
Late at night when all the documents are filed and agreements signed in a pact, his mind betrays him. It thinks about this female, strong and sturdy, walking into his messy office and placing a cup of hot tea on his desk. She's quiet, doesn't talk: helps him to set his pens in order and tucks a blanket over him as he lies hunched and asleep on his desk, wishes him 'good night'.
In the morning when he wakes, the tea is cold, the woman is missing.
It was only a dream.