hypertoxic | CONSIGNMENT; inbox

[ Vriska will answer his knock pretty promptly. Unlike Tsuna, she isn't nervous - but there is an ill feeling in the pit of her gut. Even Hibari had given her a pass, said she couldn't be Tsuna's shield, but she'd been kind of the opposite, hadn't she? Tearing down his reputation and offering up his fate to Armada. She felt guilty in the sense of feeling bad she'd possibly screwed someone Hibari cared for - but she doesn't feel guilty at all for the fact of it.

She did what had to be done.

When she opens the door she's dressed in her own brand new Blue uniform, though less both the cape and the jacket. It fits her small frame well. The look on her face is neutral, and she gives Tsuna and his pulped up face a raised brow. ]

Your face looks gross. [ She turns and waves an airy hand, heading back inside. ] Anyway, come in, let's talk.

[ a quick look up once she arrives— there's a moment where he's caught simply . . . gazing ( most likely up, he was terribly short ) at her, eyes soft and expression set, albeit a bit thoughtful—

she speaks, and he delays at first. ]

I thought it got better—?

[ simple innocence speaks— he would've made a face, perhaps, at another time. he would've awkwardly ducked his head, frown in place and gaze to the side. instead, his eyes downcast, distant at fingers brush over one side of scarred tissue. it was pretty big, wasn't it—

vriska waves, where tsuna nods and follows, giving a barely audible "thanks" as he enters the rover. ]

—What's it feel like? To be back on your team?

[ a while back, way way back, when he had just arrived . . . grey team actually sounded something he would go for, purposely. at least, he thought. little did he know back then, though. ]

[ "Got better"? Vriska was just sniping because that's what she does. It's way better than the gaping caverns you had before, she thinks but does not say. Instead, she heads for the common area. No one else is home right now but her, and that means none of the collapsibles are out. Vriska just sits on the floor, but gestures blandly at the space with a cant of her head. ]

Make yourself at home.

[ His questions produce only a silence, though it is a thoughtful one. Pure cinnamon roll too pure for this world -- of course he's asking her a question like that. Isn't he sweet.

In her mind she keeps seeing him dead. Over and over and over, maimed and split apart and decapitated, because she has to be ready. ]

It's nice. [ Her tone is mild, and one corner of her mouth quirks up. ] Ghost seemed really happy about it. And all my old blue teammates said they were glad to have me back. I guess it's like coming home?

[ She leaves it there. Asks him no questions in return. Whatever his purpose is for coming here, he'll have to offer it without any help from her. ]

[ lowering himself onto the floor as well, he pulls his legs up, knees closer to his chest. she'll see him pondering her words for a moment, all but i quiet stare and a lowered head. it was an odd way of saying it, at first— like coming home. how would the cdc feel like home? it hits him sooner than later, though— it's as he feels with friends, family. they were what made home. if vriska were watching, she'd see him looking down, away from her— but lips quirking, resembling an understanding smile. ]

Congratulations.

[ it's genuine, briefly lifting his head up to properly acknowledge her, a short bow of the head, another soft, forcing smile.

but, it falls, eyes downcast. he hopes it's not rude if he gets to the point— it's starting to build up like guilt would, making him grow anxious ( though he really tries dampening it ). ]

I wanted to apologize, but—

[ tone leveled, honest— his lips thin, straighten into a line. ]

Sorry'd never be enough.

[ sorry would never undo putting one's life in danger. mistakes would never bring the dead back to life, or make the living forget. either way it went, it'd be a knife to the heart. ]

I want to let you know something, instead.

[ It's a little about that for her. Friends, a strangely human sense of family. But she means home more literally than he could imagine. But she won't explain it to him if he doesn't ask. She hardly needs more prying into her reasons for staying with the CDC.

She says nothing to his congratulations, or his stammering attempts to talk. Though he is at least surprisingly level for once, instead of weepy, she finds herself totally unmoved by his attempt at apology. It's very strange, to be on the other side of something like this. How many times had she apologized for doing terrible, stupid things, only to be frustrated when it fell on deaf ears? It's her ears that are deaf now. The role reversal is a little surreal.

Vriska bends one knee and hooks an elbow around it, watching him with that same mild impassivity. ]

Yeah?

Edited 2015-04-02 08:04 (UTC)

You, or anyone else—

[ no stuttering, no shakiness— no apologies. his voice goes stern, his expression solid, resolute, nothing but truth in his words ( and whether that's heard or not, it doesn't waver ). for a moment, armada's words come through, clean, and when he says it, it's a request. it wouldn't happen again. he wouldn't allow it to happen again. he was putting aside what he's promised himself to do since the moment he accepted his gloves and his will— and he wouldn't do that. ]

You're not my shield.

[ he feels a warming surge of resolve— all but a silent crack of tiny embers over his brow that quickly disperses. they're quick to vanish, he doesn't realize it was there ( he feels it, though ), but he thinks it at the moment. fight. protect. which is why it comes. ]

And you won't need to be.

[ he was the shield. he had a job to do, and not just for her, or for anyone here. his hand reaches for something, in his pocket— out he pulls is a fairly simple charm, tattered and worn, actually scorched at its tip. a little thing that meant nothing to vriska, or anyone here, but to tsuna, it meant the world.

literally. it meant his world.

and he wasn't about to let them down, either. he wasn't a mafia boss, he didn't want to be a boss, or the leader— but his eyes don't show that weepy child, frightened out of his skin or quick to be skittish, stuttering or smiling sheepishly. compared to a crying, no-good tsuna, this tsuna looked like he was ready to rip through everything to shield his kind. ]

It's the other way around, and I'd rather die than put any one else in danger like that.

[ and it's true— if he had to die for his friends, he would. but they, they didn't have to do that for him. it's the other way around. as the boss should. ( including how he indirectly okay'd his own death if he was a problem, despite not actually knowing about it ). it's almost scary, considering tsuna, but— the real tsuna stirs. the real tsuna was a leader figure, because those who adored his resolve would follow. because the sky protected them by any means he had. tsuna was strong, was fierce— and only the right direction would lead him there.

if this is considered the right direction.

there's a lot more turmoil going on in his head than he lets on. when was the next time he would kill? who would it be? why? and in the end, it all tries to be overloaded with a single thought. protect them. it'd be an endless fight for him, but one thing was certain— he'd go forward. he had to. ]

That's not my job— It never has been.

[ Was that-- flames. Again. Just like Kyoya. What was it with these boys and being literally on fire when they felt strongly about things?

But at least it was a real, physical indicator to her that this wasn't just words. Vriska doesn't entirely understand how the flames work, but she's fairly certain he couldn't do that just for show. Plus, there's conviction in his words, too. He's not crying this time, or shaking, or averting his eyes while she rips arrows out of her body. He's not throwing up or throwing things on the ground like a petulant child. He's showing her spine.

She doesn't buy it.

But some of her harder edges do fall away, her shoulders rounding as she sighs and pulls her mouth into a thin line. She leans forward just enough so she can rest her chin on her knee, and her eyes are half-lidded when she speaks. ]

You're right. It's not your job. And I'm not your shield! I'm just the idiot who saved your life.

[ She leans forward more, letting her knee fall slightly to one side so she can stare him down. ]

I believe that you mean this, Tsuna. But words only mean so much! You're going to have to prove it. On the battlefield, with your own two hands. And if you fuck up again? I won't save you.

[ There's something about the flatness of her tone. Something odd and very dark. What's obvious is that she won't shield him again should the need arise. But she seems to mean more than that. Something worse. The comment sounds strangely like a threat. ]

Understand?

Why does it make you an idiot?

[ and for the first time— tsuna doesn't break the stare, he doesn't look to sides, subdued with intimidation. he follows through, in fact, consistent, understanding of the words. perhaps not at their entirety, what it meant deeper, but—

it's enough. and whether she had believed him or not, he knew what he had to do from here on out. ]

That's why I'm here.

[ it's similar to what armada said— and he understands. ]

It makes me an idiot because I still don't know why I was so willing to die for some failure I barely even know.

[ She manages to keep most of the bitterness out of her tone, but it's there, edge enough to cut still if you brush your fingers across the blade.

With a groan Vriska leans back, shaking her head out and pawing her hands through her hair. ]

What's why you're here, Tsuna. Spell it the fuck out.

You cared.

[ cared enough, at least— whether it was some kind of team instinct or . . . well, whatever it was. tsuna would have probably done the same if the tables would turn, but tsuna was tsuna— it was obvious how much he cared for people— people he didn't know, things he didn't know.

he cried for a creature he knew nothing about.

silence comes through and he waits, just a moment before speaking again. a soft intake of air from his nose, and his shoulders fall. ]

That I understand.

[ and with some saddening perception, as to return that darkening seriousness she had proposed to him earlier: ]

I just wanted you to know.

[ there were many things connected— he knew that he wouldn't live if it were to happen a second time. whether vriska was going to be the one to carry that out, well— it was another story. ]

Caring isn't a good enough answer! Groan. I didn't just risk myself for you, you piece of shit. I risked my team. I can't make stupid mistakes like that again! Ugh. This isn't about me in the first place.

[ Vriska scrubs her hands over her face, more and more annoyed by the moment for reasons she can't quite place. ]

So hey, great! Thanks for telling me some useless bullshit that doesn't mean anything until you back it up. That certainly makes me feel much better!

[ Why is she being so cruel to him about this? Normally this is a gesture she'd at least try to appreciate. But it's all so caught up in her own snap decision to guard him bodily. It freaks her out. And she does not, under any circumstances, ever want to be put in a position where the option is even available ever again. ]

[ it's almost as if he's looking at something else as she speaks ( with such . . . sharp words, to boot ), a little bit deeper, as if he could make out blurry images under all that guard she puts up.

she's afraid.

of what, he can't put his finger on— he wasn't a mind reader, or psychic, or anything like that. he was, by blood, related to primo, the first, and primo had a gift— passed down to each line worthy enough to lead the vongola. tsuna was the current, and his hyper intuition flurried with possibly the most similarity to primo than any of the other dozen generations. why that was, well— it showed sometimes. in about ten years, it'd show more than ever. tsuna would grow up to be quite the man.

while insults are thrown every which way, in the end— tsuna finds himself paying little attention to it. he assimilates her emotion, feels it in his own heart— and then, very softly, his lips seem to curve up at its softest, slightest, with compassion that few would expect as his eyes lay over her, understanding to trade for her cruelty. was she afraid of him failing? or why she protected him? of failing herself somehow? of dying? it could be many things. he has a feeling things will go down a fairly unpleasant road if he asked though, or mentioned it— she'd feel invaded. or would think he's being some smug little shit that wants to play sherlock mufasa all of a sudden.

the big question— should he stay or should he go? he wanted to help, but— would he really be of help or just another motive to up the anger meter? ]

—Is there anything I could-?

[ one last try, he says as he emits a giant fucking wave of invisible shoulder grips that whisper console and help. luckily, it's not out loud or else it'd be terribly corny. or embarrassing. or vriska would probably decapitate him right there. for now, he's probably just being weird(ly nice) for someone who just got stomped on like an unwanted welcome mat. ]

[ Except it's not weird. This is Tsuna. He's one of the biggest, squishiest bleeding hearts she's ever met in her long, long life. Of course he'd be this nice to her. She could flay him alive and he'd smile at her before he died, probably. Freak.

His offer still gets her to recoil, and she looks disgusted, unnerved, and deeply offended all at once. After a moment of profound discomfort she frowns severely and looks away from him. ]

No.

[ Flatly. She works this out on her own, or with someone she actually trusts. But not with Tsuna. He has too much he needs to prove to her. ]

Wait, you know what? Actually, there is something you could do for me. Just shape the fuck up. That's all you need to worry about. Got it?

[ and this was where his journey to the top of shape-up mountain truly begins. maybe it already started before, but—

now marked the point of no return. ever since he made that choice. it wouldn't be easy, none of it ever would be— and if it did, maybe people should start to worry. for now, tsuna just nods with carefulness.

this would be a long, long journey. and he would succeed. there were no other options. whether he cracks a little on the way, well— ]

Got it.

[ he had to. tsuna shifts, unwrapping his knees and straightening them, beginning to lift himself up. ]

I— Guess I'll see you later, then?

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