Collection of moments about G. and Cerelia (Primo Generation transposition of Gokudera X Haru).
Timeline: Primo Generation, Vigilantes (= before they were called the Vongola Famiglia)
Pairing: PRIMO!5986 = G. X Cerelia | Age: 17~22 y.o
ANY CANON-ISH-NESS WOULD BE FORTUITOUS.
- WARNING -
Lots of unofficial characters because Amano-sensei didn't transpose all canon characters into Primo Generation ( ,_ ,)¬
Please deal with how I imagined Haru ten generations ago ~ first hints about her in Ch.43 5986 COLORE!
Please also deal with the time-period mess due to canon throwing in together many paradoxical historical elements in the Primo Generation = 10 Vongola Bosses, 5 family generations between Giotto & Tsuna, a Japanese Heian (794~1185 A.D.) costume, a WWI trench coat, a 1920's pinstripe suit, 1920's pocket watches, XIXth-century imperial coat with epaulettes...
TO SIMPLIFY let's count 5 x 20 years = 100 years between Tsuna and Giotto, meaning Giotto was born at the end of the XIXth century, then when growing up he picked up fashion & accessories of that time (1920's); same for Alaude and his trench coat. Mafia Bosses never staying long on their thrones sounds rather logical so here go the X generations. Now the only thing left to avoid headache is just to forsake that Ugetsu Asari's outfit is only his performance outfit as he's a musician, and that Daemon Spade just has a little retro taste for his choice of coats...
G. x Cerelia SETTING: the time when Giotto and G. were just Vigilantes in Italy (= their late teen, early adulthood) meaning the end of the XIXth to very first years of the XXth-ventury.
KHR Primo Gen. 5986
TEN GENERATIONS AGO, ONE NIGHT IN ITALY
"Humph…" G. kicks a small stone away from his path, before leaning onto the marble wall of a wealthy mansion and pulling on his cigarette nonchalantly.
Tonight is just another vigilance night...
G.'s magenta eyes have already taken the greyish shade of his disinterest as he gazes down at the paving stones still dark with the humidity of the past rainy days.
Seasons pass, politics pass, the definition of justice itself passes, but the stone daily serving as a foothold to the town people remains the same. Their vigilante group that had always been fighting at the frontier with illegality is now not only well-established but also respected... for now.
Now that another Spring is coming and bringing more mildness after some harsh Winter, acknowledgment has also come answer their efforts.
Now that the newly established nobility has open to more libertine ideas, support has also come reinforce their cause.
Now that the pavement under their feet is not stained with blood anymore, walls of clean marble are rising to form the elegant shapes of new modern villas left and right from the riverside district.
The smoke of his cigarette elevates towards the skies, but G.'s eyes are still wandering on the dark ground that holds memories of fights not so distant.
Time has passed, from daily fights to mere patrolling...
If G. had not sworn to follow Giotto whatever his decisions, he would not have put up with having to monitor this elite district. But winning the freedom to act for their vigilante group came with a price, and allocating someone to protect the nobles' mansions was part of it.
"Tsk…" G. pulls away from the wall, not liking a bit the idea of touching something built by people who could provide food for an entire year to a countryside village in stead of a useless fancy manor.
Freedom to think well and fancy ideas only come to nobles having the luxury of not worrying about how to eat day after day, after all... But on their side, their values had never being tilting to such grand ideals. They fought to protect what they cared for; they rose to hold a hand to the ones they wanted to help up; they went through all that thinking about making tomorrow better than today. But what about after tomorrow...
The more G. thinks about it, the darker their future as vigilante looks.
Not that he regrets anything, but just how white can't remain white after fighting black for too long, he also feels that the concessions they had to make to protect what they decided to protect are slowly dying them darker and darker. Spending so much time negotiating with the creatures dwelling in the dark abysses of Italy, won't they fall into these abysses as well…
G. browses the cloudy skies in search of some stars to bring some light into darkness, but in vain. In these first days of Spring, it's already a miracle not to rain, so he couldn't ask for a clear sky on top of it.
"Tsk, they even used sculpted pillars for their balcony, dannatos (Ita. damned) them…" G. sneers as his eyes stray back on the manor upwards,
"Eh… eeh… eeeeehhh…?!"
G. barely has time to open his arms up instinctively that he's sent to the ground by the weight of what he just caught up falling -jumping...?- from the balcony.
The soft velvet fabric of a troubadour hat lands featheringly on the paved ground of the street, leaving G. plenty leisure time to wonder at the long silky hair streaming down onto him now that it was released from their cover.
The tip of two slender leather boots brushing his legs to try and find footing for their owner also gives G. plenty leisure time to wonder at the oversized minstrel clothes badly disguising the fine body on top of him.
And most of all, plenty leisure time to feel entrapped in the silence of the night emphasizing on these dark sapphire blue eyes looking at him puzzlingly but without averting their straight-forward gaze.
Finally, the foot seem to have found ground, their owner has finally stood up and released G. from the weight of his assailant fallen from the sky and he can stand up in turn, the hypnotic charm breaking along it.
But just as he's about to burst into some angry lecturing and interrogating:
"G-Good night!" The girl mutters as she bypasses him to run away.
"As if…!" G. roars while grabbing her back by the collar, strangling her as she's pulled backwards for a due explanation.
"K-kof...! Aah, let go, please let go! If I miss tonight, I might never get another chance to approach him!"
"T-the legendary handsome hero protecting the city from the shadows: Signor Vigilante Giotto!"
G. releases the collar without really realizing, stunned to hear his Boss' name from the girl's lips.
Of course someone as amazing as Giotto deserves not only himself as a Right-Hand Man but also the entire population behind him as support but, clearly, something is telling him that the girl's vision of things is a little off and that she's not admiring his admiration-worthy Boss for the right reasons.
"Tsk, and just what does a sneaking-out elite lady want by approaching him?"
"Eeh, h-how can you tell? My disguise is perfect, and... No way, are you another guard hired by daddy?! I can't let you catch me again!"
BAM. The narrow tip of the girl's boot land right in the middle of G.'s tibia, sending a piercing pain in his entire body.
"Dannata little…?!" G. curses behind his teeth before swallowing back the rest to run after the runaway girl, who is unfortunately not as swift as a trained vigilante.
"Kyaaa...! L-let go of me! Have you never been taught not to lift your hand on a lady?"
"You sure have nerves to still call for a lady's honour when you're breaking curfew under such a bad disguise."
"Buuh, don't speak badly about my costume! It's from a very distinguished troubadour who stopped at our home, and the confection is very well made, well of course not as well as the costumes I sew myself, but... Kyaaa!"
"I'd rather you spare me your babbling, humph..."
And without any other consideration, G. lifts the girl to place her on his shoulder like a parcel to be delivered back home.
"It'll be a serious dent on my Boss's honour if a little girl disappears from the mansion we were in charge of watching, tsk..."
"P-p-put me down! I need to go and meet with Signor Vigilante Giotto!"
"As Hell I will, tsk..."
GRIP. G. barely has time to wonder what kind of trick she's up to that the girl has grabbed onto the sides of his shirt as anchor before sending her body in a perfect front handspring over his shoulder, landing gracefully on both feet in his back. She hadn't spent so many years admiring minstrels for nothing, after all...
"Don't underestimate a girl in love, buuh!" She spouts with puffing cheeks before running away at full speed again.
"Dannata... OY!" G. roars before dashing after her again, more and more pissed.
GRAB. He has no problem catching back on her and the wind is knocked out of her when he pins her to the brick wall of a nearby street to stare at her mercilessly.
Long seconds count down in silence, burning magenta staring down at cool sapphire as they stubbornly don't avert their gaze from one another's.
With night as the sole witness of their wilful and unconventional staring duel, time passes slowly yet inexorably, the eyes of a lady not supposed to look up pinned into the ones of a gentleman not supposed to seek the meeting. But none of them had ever cared about conventions, and that night is not going to be their first...
Actually, the more they stare at each other, the more aggravated they feel, not liking one bit to find a spark fighting back at them in the other's pupils. And the sparks finally start fusing verbally as well:
"A runaway elite girl is trouble enough, so don't you mess with my Boss with stories about love on top of everything. How scatterbrain can you be to think you're worthy of him, you Donna Stupida (Ita. Stupid Woman)."
"Buuh! Not knowing anything of me, how dare you speak that way of a lady, you maleducato cafone (Ita. rude jerk)!"
"What kind of lady would act and speak that way in the first place?! Don't waste my time with your senselessness, tsk!"
"Love is beautiful miracle! Don't spoil it with your villano (Ita. boorish) lack of sensibility!"
"Sensibility is a luxury for idiots without any other worry in the world! Don't drag my Boss' name and ambition at the same level as such fesseria (Ita. bullshit)!"
"Buuh! Just wait until my Dad cancels your hire for having spoken so rudely, you cafone!"
"Ooh, care to actually come back to your Dad? I couldn't wish better, Donna Stupida!"
The girl's feet leave ground once again, but this time with both her arms locked in her back by G. hand while he secures her legs immobile onto him by his other arm.
"H-h-how can you?!"
"I can as easily as Galileo demonstrated Earth is round, you naive little lady! Consider yourself happy to have met a vigilante and not some mean-intentioned thug who could as easily do anything they'd want to you, tsk... The next time you plan on breaking curfew, don't do it when it's my patrol time, sigh..."
"... v... vigilante...? d-don't tell me...?"
HALF-AN-HOUR LATER, AT THE LADY'S RESIDENCE
"It was a job well done, G."
"Boss...?! Humph, I was only fulfilling my mission. More importantly, why are you here?"
"Maestro (Ita. Master, Professor), it looks like we won't have to search the streets for your daughter as my comrade already brought her back safely."
"Cerelia, oh Cerelia, how could you... where have you...?!"
"I trust you might want time with her to share your relief and anxiety, so we will take our leave."
"Ah, egregio Signor Giotto (Ita. esteemed, dear), I knew you were the right person to contact, and I will make sure to show my gratitude to you if you ever need my assistance. Grazie mille (Ita. thank you very much)."
"W-wait! Si... you're Signor Giotto...? I-I-I've wanted to… the truth is… I mean, I've always wanted to… ever since that night, y-you're my h-hero and…"
"Oy, Boss, let's go."
And G. closes the walk after Giotto, not without a faint victorious smirk for the lady left behind in the doting yet lecturing hand of her father, governess, ladies-in-waiting and butler.
A pair of resentful sapphire eyes chased after him even after the door closed on the two vigilantes, but G. couldn't see them anymore.
Or at least he believed he would not see them anymore in the near future...
KHR Primo Gen. 5986
TEN GENERATIONS AGO, ITALY, PALAZZO DI TREBAIA (Ita. Miura's Mansion)
"Santo Cielo (Ita. Goodness gracious), Tesoro (Ita. affectionate, "treasure")... would you not give us such fright by breaking curfew every night...? Think about how your esteemed father would feel if he knew...!"
"Ohibo (Ita. tut tut), that's why I trust you above all, Nanny. Please do your best so that Father do not find out."
"Aah, wait, you...? Giovane Donna (Ita. Young Lady)! GIOVANE DONNA!"
"Accidenti (Ita. Damn it), I am found out..."
"Tesoro... How could you just hope for the ladies-in-waiting to miss your leaving in such flamboyant clothes, sigh... Why would you always borrow minstrel clothes as disguise…?"
"Giovane Donna, just why are you trying so hard to escape at night? Did we tell you it was dangerous? Haven't you had enough luck last time to encounter a vigilante gentiluomo (Ita. gentleman) to bring you home? Per amor del cielo (Ita. for Heaven's sake), please do not endanger yourself further!"
"He was definitely NO gentiluomo, and...! And… and you all don't understand..."
"Mah mah, Tesoro, we all know you have come to the age of admiring fine men already, but..."
"Signor Vigilante Giotto is not just a fine man! He is a hero! He is the one who saved us last time!"
"Giovane Donna, please do not start brooding an umpteenth time over this story, sigh..."
"Oh, davvero (Ita. right, true), Rosalina, you joined the mansion afterwards only. Have I ever told you the story about how I first met Signor Vigilante Giotto?"
"... Rosalina, please say you do, even if you don't..."
"So you don't know, huh, huh?"
"... too late..."
"See, it all happened..."
FLASHBACK ~ABOUT A YEAR BEFORE, SOME DREADFUL WINTER NIGHT~
The rattling of carriage wheels were echoing on the paved streets in the deep dark night, thrown at fast speed on the deserted road of the godown district.
The cold wind of the night was agitating Cerelia's silky bangs in front of her eyes as she was staring with dread at the blade threatening her father, the blade held by a ruthless man who had slammed the door of their running carriage open as if it had been a polite errand… polite minus the group of horse-riding accomplices having closed on them and hijacked the driver seat.
"Signor, it looks like all this gold is weighing too much on you. How about we help you off from it, ghahaha!"
"Don't shout, little brat. I only like curvy donnas, so I have no interest in you, tsk."
"I am already sixteen year-old, you bruto! And I'll never give that up! It is a memory of Mother, so hands off!"
"Cerelia, shhh, don't...!"
"Ghahaha! Some nerves for a little spoiled lady. Let's see how many hits you will take to protect your 'Mama' memory."
BAM. The entire carriage suddenly shook and stuttered, and the thug had no choice than release Cerelia's wrist to hold onto the door frame to avoid falling.
"Oy guys, what's wr...?"
BADABAM. The passing dark silhouette of someone having fallen his horse mysteriously stopped the thug mid-sentence.
BAM BAM BAM BADABAAAM. The three other thieves in black hoods passed the field of vision of the still-running carriage as the mounts kept on galloping side and side without any horseman left to ride them.
"CAZZO (Ita. sh*t)! What is going on?!" The thug cursed while bending by the door frame to catch a look outside the carriage.
His eyes widened in shock at noticing leather shoes at about his eye level, and when he raised his eyes higher, he could only gap at seeing a tall masculine silhouette standing on the roof, not seeming to care about the cahoots of the carriage.
"Vaffanculo (Ita. f*ck you)! W... WHO ARE Y...?!"
BAM. A hit from the mysterious man and the thug was obliged to dent his nails on the carriage doorframe as his other arm was sent flying away along the blade now lost in the night.
A glance on the right informed the thief that even the accomplice having stolen the reins previously had been sent flying out of service, and that the carriage was now slowing down with the postiglione (Ita. carriage attendant) back in control.
"T-Tsk!" He screeched resentfully at guesstimating he had no other way than escape.
He whistled for his horse before jumping on the mount amidst gallop to escape, just in time before the stop of the carriage sent him to the ground together with another hit from the mysterious man on the roof.
TCHAK. But the bag of stolen gold and jewels was stolen back from his hand when an arrow scratches his fingers and went denting into a nearby house shutter made of wood.
By the time Cerelia had run out of the carriage to check onto the situation, both men were gone, and her father was holding her mother's jewel back to her, while the servants were profusely apologizing for not having put on more resistance against the thieves.
"F-Father... wh-who was it?"
"Some unfortunate group believing robbery will make their lives better, sigh..."
"No, not them! The... person... who saved us..."
"Oh! That would be Signor Giotto's group for sure."
"Cerelia...? Hum, Cerelia?"
"… Signor Giotto, awww…!"
~END OF FLASHBACK~
"Awww, I still remember how impressive Signor Vigilante Giotto was... How brave...! How dashing...!"
"Hum, Giovane Donna...? Giovanne Donna...?! Sigh, looks like we've lost her again, for a change..."
MEANWHILE, HIDE-OUT OF GIOTTO'S VIGILANTE GROUP
"Hum, G. how surprising for you to catch a cold."
"Tsk, no such idiozia (Ita. stupid thing). Must be some of our past opponents cursing us behind our back."
"Or some grateful lady saved by your bow praising your bravery, maybe...?"
"Gia (Ita. as if)! Not like I'd ever asked for this kind of grateful annoyance, humph..."
"Haha, G. you know you should start opening your eyes to new possibilities. Who knows...?"
KHR Primo Gen. 5986
TEN GENERATIONS AGO, ITALY, A STORMY NIGHT
"I know, tsk...!"
"Hihiin!" G.'s horse neighs as the reins makes it do a U-turn to gallop back to where they just passed.
GRAB. G. has put away his bow to free his hands and bent over his horse in a stunt to pick up what he's been instructed to go and pick up: a ball of brown-and-orange fabric drenched by the pouring rain and putting on a fight the moment it ends up on the horse saddle in front in front of G.
"Let go of me, you cafone (Ita. jerk)!" Cerelia's voice echoes loud and clear despite the surrounding storm, way too clear to G.'s taste.
"If I could I would, Donna Stupida (Ita. Stupid Woman) but my Boss' orders come before my wishes." G. counters her fists effortlessly before trapping them under one of his arms while the other guides the horse to dash away.
"Si-Signor Giotto did?" Cerelia stops struggling and blushes a little at hearing that her pick-up has been intructed by the hero she admires, suddenly not minding anymore the arms of the one against whom she's rocked tight at each of the horse strands.
"..." G. doesn't bother making any answer, wondering just how love-blinded that girl can be despite being usually smart enough to talk back to him.
Can it be that she got surprised by the rain when following them and didn't notice everything that happened a block away from her shelter spot... Can it be that she really didn't notice that the group they took down was chasing after them for revenge... Can it be she didn't even realise they had had to steal the horses of the attacked carriage to escape and regroup because the situation didn't look good at all...
If she really didn't, it would make sense that she wouldn't understand why even G. had already half-turned back to go and pick her up when the same order had come from Giotto.
"... you're really a Donna Stupida." G. mumbles with an annoyed sigh.
"I do not want to hear this from the likes of you!"
"The likes of me is what you idiot breaks curfew for and follow at night! Stop being so damn paradoxical!"
"I do not come at night for YOU!"
"Grazie a Dio per quello (Ita. Thank God for that)!"
"That's MY line!"
The bickering keeps on loud enough that even the galloping hooves of the horse on the pavement or the thunder rumbling pales in comparison, none of the two opponents backing off despite the cahoots of the horse-ride or the rain droplets beading heavily on their eyelashes.
"Just stop pestering him already! Why is an elite lady enamoured with a Vigilante to start with?! Behave like the dannata spoiled little girl you're born as, per l'amor del cielo (Ita. for Heaven's sake)."
SLAP. Cerelia's furious hand is intercepted by G. before it would reach his cheek though, and he glares at her more seriously than before.
"Humph, you think you're so serious about that primo amore (Ita. first love) of yours that you're in your right? How hopeless."
"Don't you dare speak as if you understand!"
Cerelia glares back at G. without a shred of fear in her sapphire eyes.
"Perdinci (Ita. beg your pardon, annoyed), you mean you do? Impress me: how exactly is your situation with him?"
"I'm just an admirer that will never be able to spend my life with him or even be able to admit my involvement with him in society."
G. is stunned silent by the down-to-earth heart-wrenching tone, and somehow holds back his lashing about how her following them is dangerous and she's a burden on them. Just how could he tell her all of that when she has the guts to admit that her feelings are without hope...
Many horse strides pass at gallop without him making any answer as he inwardly weights how much of a real trouble to Giotto that little lady is.
G. finally heaves a deep sigh before bringing his eyes back on the one stuck sidewards between his arms, drenched in cold rain in the middle of the night. Despite his usual attitude, it's not like he'd be cruel for free, especially not to someone admiring his Boss. And she's a signorina as well...
"If you're clear on that, why are you still following him every night? Per la miseria (Ita. good grief), don't tell me you're having silly dreams about him being secretly from noble descent and being able to satisfy your family and society's expectations if proposing one day to you?!"
"C-C-CERTO QUE NO (Ita. of course not)!"
Cerelia's blush and stuttering give G. a sweatdrop. She must have dreamt about it, she most definitely hoped for something like that at some point...
"B-but it's still alright to dream, can't I? After he heroically saved me and Mother's memento, wouldn't it be alright for us to fall in love despite the difference of class? It would be just like most love stories, with a passionate romance ending tragically on a first-and-last kiss before a moving farewell, and..."
G. sweatdrops more and more as he listens to the little lady story-telling her heart out with a passion that would do honour to the minstrel costume she's wearing again tonight.
This Donna Stupida must have read too much Shakespeare... These books should be kept away from senseless stubborn little ladies, davvero (Ita. for real)... Just listen to how much fesseria (Ita. bullshit) she's been imagining because of that... Does she even realise how different from a story the real life of a Vigilante is?! And how dangerous following us around each and every night is?! That dannato Shakespeare is lucky to be already dead or I'd make him pay for turning Giotto into such a charade for that little lady's dreams sake...!
TILT. Amidst the flurry of dillusional speech, G. suddenly notices something odd having been hinted at several times.
He instantly brings his eyes on the one onto him, paying no attention to the rain still pouring down on the both of them and making the droplets dripping from his forehead crash onto her cheeks.
"Momento, little lady, did you just say you kept your first kiss for him?"
"D-don't word it like that, maleducado cafone (Ita. rude jerk)!"
"Scusa scusa (Ita. sorry, informal). But your face just shows it's true anyway, meaning you'll stop dreaming fesseria about him if you get your first kiss."
"I said don't turn the first kiss of a lady into such a crude thing! It's one of the most important moments in any romantic story, the moment that truly makes it worthwhile to have endured so much, the moment that won't be erased ev..."
Cerelia's words have stopped at her lips after G. has sealed them shut with his, and he tightens the horse reins with one hand to make sure the other is securing her in his arms long enough until he's thoroughfully kissed her silent.
When he finally breaks the kiss, he doesn't pull back much and instead stares straight into the pair of sapphire eyes having frozen wide-open without really seeing him.
"Now your story with him has nothing romantic to look forward to."
G.'s low voice has echoed like a murmur in the cold raindrops drowning the scenery in chaotic grey.
Long seconds of eternity pass rhymed by the strands of the horse at gallop, until: GRAB.
BADACRASH. The horse has lost its riders after that Cerelia has grabbed G. by the collar to drag him down with her, and hammer his chest with her fists once on the cold drenched pavement on top of him.
"... h-H-HOW DARED YOU?!" Her sapphire eyes are clouded by tears and raindrop as she looks down on him, her fingers trembling on his collar in disbelief and anger as she keeps shaking and hitting him with everything she has.
CHU. Her fists are countered easily once the shock of the fall passed, and Cerelia struggles even more violently as G. pulls her face to his once again.
CHU. Her new attempt at freeing her hands while kicking him only leads G. to clench his fingers in her hair more firmly and kiss her more deeply, swallowing her resistance just like the pouring rain is swallowing their surroundings.
No matter how much she hits, pushes, struggles, his strong arms pulling her to him don't nudge, his large hands securing her face don't tremble, his provocative eyes don't look away from hers.
"HGG *BITE*!" Cerelia's ultimate defensive move doesn't make G. flinch for more than a second, and her expression crumbles at feeling him kissing her even more fiercely, completely domineering her.
"... kof...!" When G. finally releases her, his magenta eyes feel as cold and ruthless as the metal of his arrowheads.
Cerelia's fist on G.'s chest are still trembling as she looks at him with a teaful eyes half-glaring half-frozen of shock. The warm and strong fingers behind her neck are playing with drenched locks of her hair and keeping her nearby, close enough for G. not to need and speak loudly to be heard.
"You're still here? Only your first time and you want more?"
His words have made Cerelia's blood wash away from her face.
A brief instant later she has run away as fast as she could without a glance back, leaving G. behind on the pavement at the exact same spot where he had landed harshly after their fall from the horse.
"Tsk..." Once her out of sight, G. lets himself fall on his back, his entire body still aching too much to consider standing up, as he lets the dark-grey skies rain down on his face.
His boss will complain for sure when learning he's mistreated a signorina but Hell could break loose that he wouldn't care... This is all to prevent her from becoming a burden on Giotto anyway... Nothing more... Besides it's not like there's much to complain when it means the girl won't wander alone at night anymore... wander fearlessly around them... wander in danger to follow after them...
G.'s forearm comes and cover his eyes for a moment as he tries to fix his feelings wreaking havoc together with his heartbeat - that's been erratic for awhile already.
"Good for you, Donna Stupida, run away and never come back... You mustn't come back..."