#lamborth 2k19 /

[gyuupyo]

“I heard it was your birthday today, congratulations. It’s a big day.” Giorno is already crouched down to Lambo’s height when he presents the first of his gifts. A backpack, simple in design with cartoon frogs stitched into the fabric. “This way, you don’t have to carry everything in your hair, and it’ll be easy to find what you’re looking for. I already have some things inside for you.” He unzips the front pocket and reveals it stuffed with as much candy and sweet treats as it can hold.

HAPPY LAMBABY’S LAMBIRTH!!

+“I promised you candy when we first met, I’m sorry it took a while for me to get it to you. Try not to eat it all at once, we don’t want you getting a stomach ache.” That part is zipped back up once Lambo has had an eyeful; then the main compartment is opened revealing other gifts. “I noticed you liked to color, so I got you a few coloring books and a set of crayons. A toy cow is in here as well, I saw him and thought you might enjoy a soft friend. Also, a few new outfits.” Just simple things, a couple of pairs of dungarees hopefully sturdy enough to keep up with how active Lambo tends to be and a few cow patterned t-shirts. “I hope you enjoy the gifts, Lambo. They’re the least that you deserve, but I tried my best to get you things you’d like.”

another year passes. he is outgrowing his onesie, adopting new words, making more memories. candle number eight just happens to be in spiriale, a wide but definitive cage without nana’s cake or kisses. with consideration to his birthdays spent in italy, these conditions are nothing new. lambo will survive.

the problem is that he cannot go back. he has let himself spoil, grow accustomed to love; and though the date celebrates him in theory, it punishes him just as readily, creating a vacuum for eager heartache to rush in. lambo sits on the ground now, legs idly splayed out. he stares at his toes as if counting all ten would somehow break the spell and whisk him home.

tolerance will only get him so far. afterimages of nana plague his headspace again; he wants to see her yet cannot. lambo hugs his scrawny knees to his chest, knowing that even if he closes his eyes and pretends, they will never be able to substitute for a person. loneliness creeps from the shadows, spins him into its web; and right when he is about to succumb, he hears light shuffling beside him.

“giogio!” lambo receives him with gusto, springing off his rear in record time. cow print feet waddle closer, tiny fingers latching onto a random pinch of giorno’s clothing. the tame habit is one of many accumulated in their time together―for there is warmth in the way giorno allows him his idle touches; whether lambo is crawling onto his lap, nudging beneath an arm, or even stashing jelly bean offerings in his hair donut holes quizzically holding giorno’s ear in (chimerical) quiescence. already he is flashing a dimpled grin. “fratellone is real smart, yeah! it’s lambo-san’s birthday! it’s big, big news!” he collects all of himself, then, to reignite that utterly lambo spirit. it is a tall order, but he is invincible after all. on top of that, giorno’s company always makes the rebound easier.

which only doubles when giorno reveals a birthday gift—gifts. his generosity did not stop at the backpack. from the treats to the clothes and everything in between, every detail perfectly tailors lambo’s niche. the multifaceted surprise has been built on keen observation; kind, deliberate observation he is so rarely subject to. its sentiment shoots above and beyond in a way that cannot be lost, not even on lambo. giorno fires his elaborations one by one, and the stars spin lambo into a near tizzy. stark disbelief contorts his face then, hedged by a cage match between hesitation and hope. for once lambo has no heart to help himself, nor snatch his things with greedy paws. he shrinks on the spot. “all of it’s for lambo?” because, he reasons, it is too good to be true. because, he reasons, he deserves far less. the quiver of his lower lip is nothing if not mousy. it accompanies his breathy peep: “it’s really okay?”

and the breaks of time crank back. he is nestled in nana’s arms, gawking at his first birthday cake, holding his first teddy bear as he hears his first birthday song―warmth swathes him in its cloud, nearly carrying him away into a life beyond the mafia. then he blinks his eyes again to dearest giorno, patient giorno, whose radiant image begins to blur before him.

it’s time, he realizes, to stop calling spiriale a dream. because what lambo has found here is far more than that. a tremor wobbles his knees, sudden awareness suspending him in silence. but this calm only forebodes something greater, and lambo feels it in his bones. his legendary ego crumbles, melts, threatens to spill over before he can tell himself to tolerate. this time he can’t.

“waaah, giogioooo!!” so he leaps. lambo leaps into him, giorno’s chest, body weight trivial but flung with abandon. the dam bursts―it never had hope to begin with―and he cries, and cries, and cries. lambo’s sobs are off-kilter, heavy into giorno’s shirt as he hugs tight, doting, and above all grateful. that day he discovers the disparity (a bizarre one, he feels) between tears of anguish and tears of joy. island aside, home aside, it seems that he still has many more firsts to reap in life. giorno is wrong―this is more than enough. giorno himself is more than enough.

the 28th of may marks lambo’s birthday. lambo is seven years old going on eight, and as he bawls against giorno, he wishes for their friendship to last another hundred.

[gyuupyo]

“C’mere, I’ve got something for ya.” Sitting on the ground cross-legged to get on Lambo’s level, he put a heavy skull ring in his little hand. “Happy birthday little dude, keep that close, it’ll be important soon. More importantly, I haven’t taken you to see the actual amusement park yet, huh? I saved up a bit, so we can go whenever you want, just say the word.”

HAPPY LAMBORTH!!

upon the beckon his posture had seized, tiny shoulders hunching as he let a gurgle slip―gupi―and huge eyes peered back over a shoulder, easing only after he saw gokudera cross-legged on the ground, position unassuming with no furrowed brow. he shuffled forward on ginger eggshells, a cautious animal nosing out of its cage. but what gokudera had for him was no jab, no lecture about the ten-or-so gumdrops he had just crammed into his guilty cheeks. down the hatch they go, loud gulp before he answers, “what is it, ahodera?” the bits of candy in his teeth betrayed him at once, but he didn’t have to know that. his hand accepted (and plummeted with) the ring, glittering not unlike the one he remembered stashing in his sticky hair; and like that ring, too, it better suited him as a bracelet on his twiggy wrist.

“ohh, sparkly-shiny! shiny, shiny!” which rivaled the fascination in his eyes. “so you remembered, ahodera! this is a good offering for the great lambo-san’s birthday.” he nodded sagely, admiring the metal glint for some moments longer. then it followed suit with the rest of his possessions, wedged in his curly afro as good as superglue. “lambo’s gonna keep it in his hair! no takesies-backsies, okay?” he almost asked if this ring would bring gyuudon back, but opted out of it. something in him had already determined it wouldn’t be that easy, and while it hampered his spirits if left alone with the thought―he missed his friend dearly―lambo had to be a tolerant boy. more importantly, hayato offered something with plenty of immediate novelty.

“amusement park!” he let out a blissful cry, leaping up and down before throwing himself into gokudera’s lap. “lambo-san loves the amusement park!” he had only said it about a thousand times; what would another declaration hurt? and inhibitions broken, he peered up at gokudera with his widest grin. “gokudera has to take lambo soon so we can play on aaaall the rides! lambo-san will even hold your hand so you don’t get scared like a big chicken on the roller coaster.” lambo puffed out his chest, projection evident but unwilling to be called out on it. thoughts kited through his mind, memories they had shared in their years together; and although plenty of sour ones haunted him, lambo began to understand that there were more to appreciate.

today simply marked another. he fidgeted for a moment, twiddling his thumbs before a hand beckoned hayato to bend down―enough for lambo to cup a passage between his own mouth and gokudera’s ear. “psst, lambo-san is happy. mamma said he has to say thank you when someone is nice. no telling anyone else, but lambo says grazie to gokudera!” and flimsy as the sentiment may have sounded, he wore it with earnest certainty.

[gyuupyo]

"Ah Lambo, buon compleanno!" Presented to him are a variety of small packages, including some child sized onesies sporting different moo moo patterns and also a froggy one to impress his latest friend, a critter catcher kit ( only if he promises to release them! ) a 3kg bag of gumdrops and some insect repellent! Whether this is intended for insects or Byakuran remains mystery! There's also a small envelope containing 2 VIP tickets to Isola's theme park, for Lambo and a plus one of his choosing.

REAL MOO MOO HOURS!!

“dino-dino! heeeey, dino-dino-dino!” the d in dino stands for delight: lambo’s face lights up with exactly that. an accompanying yelp follows suit once he sees his gifts. their number alone astounds him, overwhelms him, and lambo cannot help but bounce off the walls. aside from candy, moo moo prints for the moo moo baby are a failsafe foundation to any plan―his abstruse fixation on the farm animal is one he will not outgrow today, tomorrow, ten years from now, and (as they knew) not even twenty. the frog onesie, to boot, is an excellent touch. dino’s eyes are warm and knowing. like clockwork, lambo chirps, “it’s a mister froggie, too! lambo-san can’t wait to show giogio!”

then in one hand, he examines the container of insect repellent. in his other, he looks at the critter catcher kit. pure innocence gleams in his eyes, big and green and all too intrigued. “this can’s got a bug on it! seven, eight, nine, ten whole bugs!” as of today it’s only taken him eight years to count something correctly. but it doesn’t take rocket science to recognize the pictures on the vouchers. lambo hops for joy, raising the tickets above his head like they’re lottery winners. to him, they may as well be. “dino is soooo cool! he’s super nice! he even knew lambo-san’s birthday. a lotta people know lambo-san’s birthday now…” he trails off, quieting for just a beat, staring down at the tickets in his hands. ambiguity brushes his expression. “one day, can all of us go to the big amusement park?” it is something he breathes aloud more than he means to really ask, gaze still lingering on the opulent print of the voucher. “‘cause even though he’s not big yet, lambo really likes staying with everyone,” he murmurs, voice drifting in diminuendo, almost like a distant prayer, “i wanna always be together.”

a handful of memories reels through his mind, scattered visions of helpless rescues and others’ fighting. i wanna always be together. and lambo thinks then, for him to realize that dream, he should start working harder, too.

finally he glances up again, all faraway air extinct as he chimes to dino: “by the way, is lambo-san supposed to spray this inside the cage after he catches the bugs? is it buggie food? thanks, dino-dino!”

well, never mind that. it’ll sort itself out later.

[gyuupyo]

"I heard it was your birthday, little one. I got you a credit card. I don't know who it belongs to, so have fun."

IT’S MOO MOO TIME BABEY!!

“cre-dit card! cre-dit card!” chanted lambo, verve lining each syllable. feet marched to the beat, or at least some bastardization of one, while both his hands held the wedge of plastic above his head. he kept the gift at arm’s length like it was something sacred, and lambo twirled again, “credit card!”

for all the degrees of hell mukuro had scraped through, xe had a knack for unleashing it tenfold. sometimes that delivered in the most straightforward of ways―a snapped neck here, a realm of cobras there―and other times it manifest in form of power to cow print. “what’s a credit card?”

but xe didn’t have to answer that; lambo had caught himself. “oh, oh! lambo-san’s seen this thing before! you give it to the store and then you don’t need money anymore! you can take home all the stuff you want, right?” all the more reason to cherish the enigmatic item. “thanks, mister mukufufu! lambo’s gonna buy five hundred whole lollipops! and a bicycle! lambo-san wants to ride a pony, too. mister mariachi, you can buy a pony with the credit card, right? let’s go get some ice cream, ice cream, lots and looots of ice cream!”