Gokudera never uses the word "love".

Sometimes, the others reflect on the absence of the words, be it an active mulling or a stray thought. Few let it ruminate (perhaps they're not comfortable wrangling with the feelings of a hot-blooded Italian who has dynamite coming out the wazoo), and only three come close to truly understanding.

Love isn't a huge necessity in Mafia families, and after running away at the age of eight, he's had nobody to tell him those soft words.

They also learn that he balks at hearing anything relatively like them. Ryohei remembers giving Gokudera a friendly jab of support after a fight and telling him that he'd done well, only to find himself on the receiving end of a stick of dynamite.

What those three come to learn is that there are other words that Gokudera says instead.

To Tsuna he says "I'll follow any order you give, Tenth!" with his green eyes flashing, a passion sparked that only Tsuna seems to know how to set ablaze.

It's never intentional, and god knows that it's part of the reason Tsuna never asks anything of Gokudera, for fear of the other boy somehow throwing himself in too deeply and not being able to get back out.

It's a hot but breezy summer day and they're sitting together by Tsuna's window. The house is empty aside from them, though Yamamoto has promised to stop by after baseball practice.

Tsuna leans his head on his folded arms and huffs out a sigh as he stares out the window at the clouds rolling by. "I don't know, Gokudera-kun," he finally says, and Gokudera is surprised by the broken silence. He had tried to fill it previously, but he can tell when the Tenth needs space – the job of any right hand man, after all! – and has allowed them to lapse into quiet.

Gokudera takes a drink from his water before speaking, allowing the words to turn over in his head. "Don't know what, Tenth?" he asks. "I doubt there's something you don't know."

Tsuna smiles weakly at the words. "I don't think I'm cut out for this kind of life," he says, waving his hand feebly. "I don't know how I'm expected to go from middle schooler to – to mafia boss! And I don't want to, anyways, but these awful things keep happening!" The words tumble out now, and Tsuna vaguely realizes that he's talking to the wrong person about this, but he can't stop himself. "And I know Reborn keeps recruiting 'subordinates', but that's never what I wanted!" He clenches his fists against his knees and sighs softly, almost winded after his rant. "I wanted friends," he says so softly that Gokudera barely hears it.

The ensuing stillness lingers between them for a good few minutes before Gokudera finally breaks it. He reaches out, grips Tsuna's shoulder, and stares at him. "I'll follow any order you give, Tenth!" he says, eyes dark and so serious that Tsuna knows he means it.

What is left unsaid is "I'll follow my friend to the ends of the earth".

To Bianchi he hotly declares "I wasn't worried about you" as she returns from the depths of an undercover mission.

And perhaps he wasn't worried, she acknowledges. It was supposed to be a relatively simple job, in and out, but things in her line of work rarely flow so smoothly. She's been caught in some crossfire (which she may or may not have started herself) and sustained a few injuries, but it's nothing that Shamal isn't willing or able to fix.

(She asks Ryohei instead.)

As the white-haired boxer works to patch her up – his hands are surprisingly gentle despite being constantly curled into fists – Bianchi senses her brother hovering outside the room. He doesn't come in until Ryohei, without looking up, loudly yells for Gokudera to bring him some gauze to help blot the blood still on Bianchi's forehead.

Gokudera freezes and Bianchi expects him to balk. She's ready to tease him about it, but she's surprised when he enters the room, gauze already in hand. His eyes scan her as he tosses the roll to the boxer (drawing a curse as Ryohei fumbles and nearly drops it).

Green eyes darken into dangerous emerald as they land on the worst of her injuries. Bianchi assumes the worst is masked by her goggles (it explains why he's able to scrutinize her face so closely for any length of time beyond a second) but the scowl on his face says otherwise. The sudden attention shocks her and she hides it behind a laugh. "Don't stare, Hayato," she chides, noting that her voice is not nearly as harsh as she intends it to be. "I'm fine; there's no need to worry about your big sister anymore."

It's meant to be a tease and she's shocked to see the tips of his ears turn red. "I wasn't worried about you," he bites out, but offers no alternative explanation for his presence. He hesitates a minute before continuing to speak. "You got hit just to make the other guy lower his guard, right? Don't do such stupid things next time."

Hurriedly he turns on his heel and stalks out, leaving her quietly amused and pensive as Ryohei finishes cleaning the blood off of her.

What is left unsaid is "You're strong, but stop scaring the shit out of me".

To Yamamoto he snaps "You're bleeding on me, baseball idiot".

Yamamoto attempts to remain standing, his eyes glazed over in pain as he realizes just how well and truly screwed they might be this time. He's trying not to put all of his weight on Gokudera, but the silver-haired teen supports him as they slowly make their way behind the crates in the corner. It's not ideal, but it's the only sort of strategic cover in the room and they're going to need it. Gokudera slowly kneels, propping Yamamoto against the wall. He lets out a "tsk" that he tries to pass off as annoyance. "You're bleeding on me, baseball idiot," he says.

Yamamoto laughs weakly as the familiar insult is tossed his way. It's an odd measure, but Yamamoto has come to learn that if Gokudera is still calling him names then chances are that he's going to pull through and live another day. He shifts to try and look at their surroundings, but another sharp stab of pain wracks his body and he's forced to lay back. A sheen of sweat breaks out across his forehead and he feels the blood ooze down his side, sticky and heavy and staining his shirt.

"Idiot," Gokudera snaps again, his voice low and harsh as he tears a strip of his shirt. "Just stay still for Christ's sake." He's rapidly running out of shirt to try and staunch the bleeding but Yamamoto has no shortage of injuries – the goddamned idiot took the brunt of an explosion in trying to cover Gokudera's body with his own as they were ambushed.

"Maa, maa," the golden-eyed teen manages softly. "Gokudera-kun, I'm fine." It's not entirely true. He's conscious but the world is spinning and things are beginning to fade, though he suspects that's more from blood loss than anything else. It wouldn't be so bad if there wasn't so much of it.

It's not the first time it's happened, and he knows it won't be the last.

Gokudera's fingertips tremble minutely but are sure in their movements as he nimbly ties a strip of his shirt around Yamamoto's arm. "What the hell were you thinking?" he hisses, and Yamamoto doesn't think he's imagining the faint touch of distress layered in the anger. "You could have died, and then what would the Tenth do?!"

The swordsman grunts in pain as Gokudera tightens the knot and he tips his head back, exposing his throat as he tries to ride out the pain. "You would have died," he counters.

Gokudera makes a choked noise as he gives up on the strips and tears off his shirt, pressing what's left of the cloth tightly against the gaping wound in Yamamoto's side. The dark-haired teen doesn't respond well, hissing out pain in a rush of air between his teeth and instinctively trying to flinch away. He stills when the movement makes the pain even worse, and Gokudera swears.

They both go completely rigid at the sound of a door being kicked open. Yamamoto blinks open dim golden eyes and looks up at Gokudera, who's turned even paler than usual. The Italian teen takes Yamamoto's hand, curled into a fist at his side in an attempt to ease the pain, and uncurls his fingers. He places Yamamoto's hand over the cloth at his side and presses down, silently instructing him to take over.

Yamamoto opens his mouth – to thank him, to ask him where he's going, Gokudera doesn't know – and Gokudera cups a hand over his mouth more gently than Yamamoto would have expected.

He leans in and speaks so softly that Yamamoto almost misses the words through the pain. "They're here. Stay down and try not to get shot, Yamamoto." Then he stands and strides a safe distance away from where Yamamoto lies before raising his voice.

"Oi! Over here, assholes!" He's stepped far enough away that they probably won't find Yamamoto even if he's taken out here – which Gokudera refuses to be. Yamamoto hears the hissing of Gokudera's dynamite as he struggles to cling to consciousness.

What is left unsaid is "You're my friend and you'd better not die before I come back".