[Break] Dying was on Koro's to-do list.
Teaching 3-E a second time and trying to kill 'himself' wasn't.
---
If someone had told him he would one day walk up the mountain to building 3-E, Koro, without a doubt would have laughed. But now, here he is...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"I hate planes," the male muttered before bending over and retching into the paper bag his brother handed him. Sweat beaded at his forehead as he lifelessly sat on his quilted seat of the private jet. The cushions were a royal purple shade like most of the furniture that adorned the jet, contrasting with the beach and mahogany of most other infrastructure.
Here was one of the Varia, Vongola's Elite Assassination Unit, private jets.
On each piece of furniture, the Vongola and the Varia crest were carved or embedded, reminding each person that laid their eyes on them of the aircraft's owner. But what differentiated this craft from the others that made up the Varia's flock was not only the recognizable royal purple but the cloud insignia that proudly looked over the entirety of the aircraft.
This was the Cloud Division's private jet, reserved for the higher up of the said division.
The said Big Boss of this terrifying and feared division of the infamous Varia was currently vomiting his guts out, a severe case of motion sickness hitting him as per usual. Really, this was karmic retribution— God could not forgive his former speed and handsomeness and decided to flaw him with such a sickness.
Or so Koro told himself, cleverly ignoring that even when he was Koro-sensei, motion sickness was one of his weaknesses. Though he did not forget to correct himself on his latter statement— he was still very much handsome, thank you.
His brother's hand gently rubbed against his back, soothing his dizziness with minute injections of Sun and Rain flames. The Sun flames appeased his sickness, showcasing their brilliant healing properties. The Rain flames washed over him like waves, creating a sense of peacefulness and lulling his mind to a more tranquil and stable state.
Koro reveled in Byakuran's care for some more seconds, allowing his breathing to even out and his heart's pace to become more regular. His Ran-chan indeed was the sweetest. What would he do without him?
Oh yeah, he'd be puking his guts out.
From the corner of his eyes, in between the white strands of his hair, he noticed the spare paper bag his brother kept. His heart clenched with affection and swelled with a sense of defeat. Damn, why was his motion sickness so bad— he even slept through the whole trip with pills, yet the moment they landed, as if awaiting this precise time, it all came crashing down. He had doubled over a hand grasping at his mouth.
The rest was history.
It took Koro a few more seconds to a minute before he straightened from his position over the paper bag. From beside him, one of his subordinates retrieved the used bag to incinerate it later— no traces shall be left behind. Byakuran handed him a glass of water.
Koro rinsed his mouth before spitting the liquid back in the glass and taking a bottle from the youngest to wet his throat and chase the last remnants out of his palate. Whispering a small thank you, he capped the water bottle and set it down. With slight disgust, he peeled his leather gloves off and handed them to his underline; another clean and brand new pair was presented to him.
