Chapter Text
“Jinko,” Akutagawa muttered, annoying, “Get up- Get the hell off of me-!”
Atsushi looked up at him from the floor, having been kicked off. His hair was fluffed in front of his face and he felt remarkably refreshed. He sat up, eyes blinking as he suddenly pulled Akutagawa off of the bed to roll on the floor with him. Irritated, Akutagawa kicked him sharply in the gut, but that only made him hold on harder as his hands wrapped around the other’s waist and his chin pressed down on the other’s shoulder.
He was laughing. The first time in a long time. Akutagawa squirmed under his hold as they stilled, Atsushi still holding him tightly.
“I feel like we’re going to die today,” He blurted softly.
“Wha- What are you saying to me in the morning?”
“Like,” He slobbered over his words, “Like, you know. You know when you think you’re going to die, but you end up not dying? That stuff? I feel like that, except… it feels more… final. Like it’s really the end. And I just want to hug you one more time in case I can’t anymore. God, what the fuck happened to me so that I would want to hug you.”
“If you survive the evening,” Akutagawa muttered, “I will kill you.”
There was a sharp laugh, one that was more like the Atsushi of the present. Bitter and unrelenting in its consistency as it cut through his enemies as easily as it did his friends. He only smiled because he couldn’t forget the others, he couldn’t forget how many of them told him to run, to smile, to try to be happy, to do some many things that he simply didn’t want to do anymore, their wishes becoming his weight, his burden.
He sat up and smiled at Akutagawa, who was still lying on the floor. Akutagawa pushed his lengthening hair out of the way to pull him closer, only for him to turn away. Physical respite was one of the few ways he could find enjoyment, it was one of the few ways they could find enjoyment. However, Atsushi sparingly touched him, allowed himself to be touched, as though the idea he might disappear overrode the idea of being with him.
Of being with him alive and well.
“Do you miss them?”
Atsushi could feel every tick of everyone’s heartbeat within him as he mourned them by fighting, through fighting. He forced himself to relive their happiness by living for them and with them, or what was remaining of them.
Akutagawa felt muted at best. Distant. Far of from the excitement. His attachment to the others were minimal at best, and hostile at worst. Their deaths fuelled his anger from an ideological standpoint, but he didn’t find himself feeling the same weight Atsushi had.
“Do you wish for me to be honest?”
“Yes.”
“No,” He was still smiling, sweetly, “Lie to me. Tell me how your heart tears itself for them.”
Akutagawa looked towards the windows. If Atsushi wanted honesty from him, they must truly be nearing the end. He usually supplemented his misery with Akutagawa’s lies, trying to prove that he wasn’t the only one slowly going insane through isolation, self-isolation. Akutagawa wondered if he would ever one day just simply stop living, that he would one day wake up to a corpse beside him instead of a wry-smile telling him that they needed to run.
“Not at all,” Akutagawa sat up, nose brushing the other’s from where he straddled him, “My sister was spared, and… Higuchi chose her end as she saw fit. I have no right to feel burdened by her choice, to… disqualify it because I decide to miss her. Beyond those two, I don’t have much attachment.”
Higuchi had died upon gaining her ability so nobody even knew what it was.
Atsushi turned away again, deflecting him.
“You think so, hm?” He paused, “… What about Dazai-san?”
“He’s alive, isn’t he?”
“What if he died? What would you feel then?”
“Do you still want me to tell the truth?”
“Yes.”
“Not as upset as I should be,” Akutagawa mused. If Dazai died, he doubted that he would be able to properly accept it, living the rest of his life in denial. Even if he saw his corpse, he doubted that he would be able to believe that Dazai had died because the man was functionally immortal.
An immortal who always tried to find death.
“What if I died?”
“I honestly doubt that would happen,” Akutagawa decided to pull Atsushi close to him instead, “If we die, it’ll most likely be me dying before you.”
Atsushi made some sound that was likely a laugh. It came out like the holler of dying roadkill. He was still warm against him, excessively warm, like a walking furnace that didn’t know what temperature was room temperature. Atsushi’s arms hung uselessly beside him, but he didn’t mind because he was lost in how alive someone could feel, just by the faint rise of their chests when pressed close together enough.
“… They always attack the rear-first.”
“That and, I have a weaker physique,” Akutagawa pushed his cheek against his neck, taking advantage of a rare moment of complete listlessness from the other, “Not having regeneration is difficult sometimes, jinko.”
He still said the nickname with a bite, a harsh undertone that was both sarcastic and simply mean.
At some point, being rude was just an extension of him as a person. It curved around his words, his mouth as he was curt and often completely unresponsive to any form of retort. The fighting merely exacerbated the problem and turned what word have been a small snide remark into something uncontrollably biting. However, his rudeness made a great opening for when Atsushi did agree that he was being annoying and decided to shut him up about it.
Atsushi instead gently nudged him away; his ears must have picked something up. The easiest way to kill off anything was to bring about something more exhilarating, something that would bring just as much craving as it would for the other thing. And the only thing more exhilarating than sex was breaking someone’s bones apart with mere fists, to hear the crunch as the enemy fell in swoops. He wondered if he would ever be able to readjust to normality.
He opened the curtains as some light came through, hitting Akutagawa on the face. They were still just on the ebb of waking up, a single weak moment that was often ruined by the sound of knocking or gunfire.
Neither of them registered the danger until it was too late.
A single shot went through Akutagawa’s arm as a barrage followed hitting the ground where he just was. The shot went through an artery as blood escaped him quickly, dripping onto the floor in globs rather than drops.
“Akutagawa!” Was all he could hear as the shots ceased. The assassin must have given up his original method as he felt Rashomon cover his arm tightly.
“Shut up, shut up,” He breathed out, breath coming in gasps, “It’s not the first time we’ve been shot. I’ve been shot.”
Atsushi turned to the door stood behind it as Akutagawa forced himself up. The assassins were almost always inexperienced, any accidental shots through the arm or leg were rarely fatal. Fatality only ever came with experience or luck.
They both hoped it was the latter.
The door didn’t open as Akutagawa peered at the washroom.
A flat wall.
There was only one entrance point.
There was something strange.
A bullet went through the door as the side of Atsushi’s neck healed as quickly as it was torn. Another bullet managed to nick Akutagawa in the leg, but it only brushed it. There was another pause.
Something wasn’t adding up. Something they weren’t thinking of.
Atsushi sighed and held a finger to his lips as more bullets came through the door, only to either completely miss or be healed. Akutagawa’s jacket was still where it was thrown uselessly on the counter, a thin black line connecting it to him. Atsushi put it on.
He opened the door and a bullet came straight at his head.
Atsushi dodged, Rashomon already helping him as it extended and ate up any remaining bullets. They had dealt with snipers before, they had dealt with multiple snipers before, but somehow, this one felt different.
His coat continued to eat up the bullets, to eat up the space surrounding the bullets as he felt the thrum of his ability against his skin. There was the sound of a cry as Akutagawa stopped. It was Atsushi’s voice, but he knew he couldn’t head out.
Not with a sniper. They had already gone over the issue with snipers. They had already faced the consequences of when both of them were outside staring down entire fields of snipers. The consequences of having Akutagawa on the field when Atsushi was wrapped in the equivalent of an anti-bullet shield. When Akutagawa was bare, he was their greatest weakness.
He sought cover near the window, cursing that they had lost their guns in the middle of the last fight.
There was another cry, and another noise. Akutagawa tried to look through the corner of the curtain, except it wasn’t enough.
There was the sound of a struggle, the sound of some several punches being thrown as Rashomon slashed through the air almost aimlessly.
Another gunshot, this time much closer. Several more gunshots were sounded. His heart stilled as he remembered that instant regeneration was meaningless against instant death.
Akutagawa really needed to look outside, but now, he was sure; outside was death.
He decided to risk it.
A single peak, one eyelid above the window.
The last thing he saw before his death was the faint outline of Atsushi huddled on the ground, coat covering him in shivers and wisps, as blood seeped from him and into the concrete ground.
The last thing he heard was an unfamiliar voice in the distance. Some static before a deep voice, words spoken in accented English.
“None of your shots even hit them, idiot.”
And silence.
~
“Why did you run?” He asked him, sitting on the roof of Namimori Middle. If Hibari was there, he would have chased them off, but as of now, all of them were off in Hokkaido, looking for him because they trusted Reborn. How did anyone do that? Tsunayoshi had his knees pressed to his chest as the familiarity of Namimori seeped through his skin, a sudden surge of homesickness occurring as his eyes settle on an orange hue. There was nowhere to run now, he supposed, sitting there.
To him, it was more surprising that Reborn was even asking. Amusing, even, that someone like Reborn would be unsure enough to ask, but then again, maybe this seemed like his first serious attempt to leave everything in ruins. Maybe even the great Reborn was fallible to strange whims of Tsunayoshi.
“Don’t you already know?” Tsunayoshi felt the soft tap on his head, a warning to be more specific, “You all are my friends. How could I ask anything of you? If I stayed then somehow everything would… poof.”
Poof. He held out his hand to the sky, arm outstretched as he imagined a time when Yamamoto called him Tsuna because there wasn’t the risk of being seen as intrusive if they were in public. The words decimo were only reserved for public eyes, but somehow it made his skin itch and shiver in the formality. Logically, what Yamamoto called him shouldn’t have mattered, that he, as the Rain guardian, would have the right to do whatever he wished underneath him. He could rain down in a sunshine splash or down with the storm, a tempest as everything became mixed in their entirety. But as the Rain guardian he was limited by the Vongola.
Gone was the softness that accompanied Gokudera as he made unnecessary reports on his daily actions, always adding in pieces of Italian because even if to him the Decimo was perfect, there were always other fools who would disagree. He was no longer the cute Gokudera, the one that was fanatical and excitable at the mere thought of Tsunayoshi. Just a still figure with enough anger to stifle any and all complaint against him. He was likened to a piece of dynamite, where the only wind to dash it out was Tsunayoshi.
Tsunayoshi stopped upon thinking of Ryohei.
“Do you think it’s fair,” He started carefully, “With what happened to Onii-san?”
“What happened with Sasagawa?”
“Nono rejected him.”
“Nono’s a little too old for him.”
“You know that’s not what I- Reborn! I’m serious here!”
“… It was bound to happen, dame-Tsuna. Considering how much time you spend around me. I’m starting to think that pathetic excuse of a crush you had on me for a week is coming back.”
“I-It! I-! It’s wasn’t pathetic!”
“No, it wasn’t,” Reborn muttered, “But you were.”
“Wow, this must be why you rotated out of five girl-! Ow! Reborn! Stop hitting me! I’m not wrong.”
“And to answer your dumb question, Sasagawa wasn’t rejected because of me. He was rejected because Nono thought that he would be a hinderance. I was disappointed when you didn’t argue for- Stop looking at me like that.”
“I- I’m not looking at you like anything! I- I stopped looking at you after a week! Or two… You can’t seriously blame me! Even I-Pin stopped crushing on Hibari-san for a moment and she drooled. I- I was like fifteen or something! And I never saw you in anything other than cosplay, pyjamas and suits!” Tsunayoshi amended, “… I didn’t vouch for him because I didn’t see why.”
“Why what?”
“W-Why? Uh, I mean, does it matter if Nono says no?”
“You are spending too much time with me,” He smacked Tsunayoshi on the forehead with the back of his hand, “Nono’s acceptance is important if you don’t want an internal war. I’m sure I went over that with you several times. It’s simply tradition. Just because I snub him, doesn’t mean you snub him.”
“Sometimes,” Tsunayoshi mused, “I think that those Vongola traditions are things that you made up so that you could drag me into the weirdest stuff ever.”
“Well, half of them were.”
“… What?”
“Especially the birthday,” Reborn shook his head, “Why did you believe that for so long?”
“Why did I- You celebrated it like it was a religious ceremony! I- Why? YOU! YOU! You would hit me if I didn’t do it! WAIT! It… It was fake? YOU MEAN YOU HIT ME FOR A FAKE TRADITION THAT YOU MADE FOR FUN?!”
“So gullible… This is why I’m putting you through a repeat year…”
“Hah…?!”
“You think you can disappear for a few weeks and come back unscathed?”
“Er…”
“Answer the question.”
“N-No…” Tsunayoshi stared at the sky, “Of course not Reborn. Is Onii-san still mad about it?”
“Does it matter? You should focus more on getting a sun guardian if you aren’t going to employ me.”
Tsunayoshi turned to Reborn, “… Why offer?”
Reborn stared down at him and looked away. Between his right index finger and his right thumb was where Tsunayoshi stayed, still and unmoving. He never once ran, never wavered. He took everything Reborn gave to him, even if they were scraps of dirt. He would take everything and anything Reborn gave to him, even if they were the remains of his friends, of anything he held close to him, because somehow, he would always assume it wasn’t him who did it, wasn’t him who started it.
“… Lambo was worried,” His heart curled into itself, “I’ve never seen the cow so bothered by something.”
In the end, he would always be the one who understood Tsunayoshi.
Watching the other, he saw the guilt slowly creep into his face, seeping into the way how his eyes drooped, mouth opened slowly before shutting as he turned away, face shut tight. Reborn was cruel, but it wasn’t as though Tsunayoshi knew. The suitable punishment for his attempt, he would always be his best punishment, torturing himself with ifs and what ifs. Especially when it came to Lambo because Lambo was small.
So small that even after three years, he could still fit into warm embrace of Tsunayoshi’s hugs as he toyed with the tips of his fluffy hair. Sometimes, when the older Lambo dropped by, he would simply sit next to him, too tall to hug the other as he did when he was younger. He as too tall to fit into the other’s small frame. Maybe that was why Gokudera remained so angry with him, so angry that he couldn’t fit like he did. Physically and emotionally.
“Is he alright?”
“Shouldn’t you be asking him that?” Frigid, as though the cow didn’t matter.
Another blow. Colonnello always told him that one day his words would eventually chase the other away. The way how words formed on his tongue could easily suggest fifty different things all at once. There was never assuredness with Reborn, no such thing as confirmation other than when it was about payment. A lilt, twist of wording, some tonal indication and immediately, whatever other words that he couldn’t say directly would be said through implication. As long as Reborn tiptoed around him, his intuition would never speak of anything but basic danger to Tsunayoshi.
Does he really matter?
If anyone else was here with them, he wouldn’t be able to look at Tsunayoshi and open his mouth with such intentions because anyone and everyone knew what he was doing – except Tsunayoshi because he was Dame-Tsuna. If anyone else were here, there would have been a very stern discussion between him and Timoteo, not that he would care – either way, he would find methods to ‘tutor’ Tsunayoshi. There were always methods to create discord within someone like him, enough to push him forward, one step at a time.
The silence remained as Tsunayoshi bit his lip, unsure as to what he should say, if he should say anything, if there was anything else to say. The world was fine without his guardians, without the Vongola – as long as he, who was accepted, was around, everything would be alright.
“Don’t look so down,” Reborn took off his hat as Leon dropped to his shoulder, “If anything, Nono should be rather pleased with the result. Hibari-kun managed to get off his perch to look for you. Mukuro and Chrome bothered to uproot half the underworld in case you were just lost. Although, none of them knew where you were, this… devotion would be enough for them all to stay around – even Ryohei.”
“That’s-!”
“That’s what? Although CEDEF picked out your guardians, they still have Nono to convince. You are… permanent, forever. But they can always be switched. If you want Nono to keep Ryohei around, you shouldn’t tell him about me fetching you like a dog. If you want to throw him out, tell him.”
“… You aren’t going to tell him?”
“He’ll have a suspicion,” Reborn pinched the edge of Tsunayoshi’s cheek, garnering a shout, “But his intuition has been waning ever since you came along.”
“You didn’t answer the questi-”
“There’s no reason for me to tell him.”
“Why…? You want- Well, you want Onii-san’s place, why don’t you just take it-? You- You told me that if Nono wished it, he could change everything. Isn’t this your chance? Why make everything so… strange?”
“Do you really want to know?”
“Well… Yes?!”
“You will always come back to find me,” Leon travelled to Tsunayoshi’s shoulders, licking his cheek, “In some way or another. I don’t need to dispose of Sasagawa Ryohei, of all people, when I know one day – someday – you’ll realize that it won’t work out.”
His breath hitched as he stared at the other with wide eyes. Reborn was still staring up at the sky, as though it was his sky, a sky that existed solely for him.
“Forcing you to give someone like him up would only make you hate me, Nono, Vongola… But when you let him go, you’ll only have yourself to hate because it’d be your choice, and when you’re curling yourself into a ball wondering what to do, what went wrong, who do you think you’ll go to? Who do you think you’ll trust enough to go for help with something like this?”
His took a step back from Reborn.
“None of your guardians know you as well as I do. You would leave Ryohei of your own volition and find me again, one day. You would hate it; You would hate it so much that you’d break off from everyone. Honestly… I don’t think you would want to leave Ryohei… But even if you didn’t want it, I could make you want it. Even if you hate the idea of it, I could make you love it. Whatever it is that you feel, I can undo it with time. Because at least, I still have time.”
He fell down as Leon turned to a cushion for him to fall onto, worried he would hurt his back falling like that.
Reborn knelt to one knee to face him eye to eye.
“Between me and Ryohei, are you really going to choose him?”
He tucked his hat over Tsunayoshi’s head, finding himself amused at the situation. Tsunayoshi would allow that, allow him to be a little pleased with himself after something like that – even if it was rather callous and abrupt. Somehow the other’s trip made him a little worried, a sliver of anxiety at the prospect that he would actually run, the fear that he would lose him to strangers from another universe that moved so slowly compared to his.
But now, seeing Tsunayoshi in front of him, mouth set into a familiar shape of confusion, everything was alright.
“You- That’s- You’ve- What if I tell Nono?”
“He’ll be delighted. Tsunayoshi, do you still not realize what kind of person Nono is? Ah, actually, do you know why you were suddenly called to Italy?”
“Because he wanted me to get used to everything…?”
“He’s dying,” Reborn chuckled. It sounded like an animal dying in the middle of his throat, some mangled noise, “He’s dying so he’s afraid of having a proxy while you get used to everything because everyone knows that the Vongola Decimo is a civilian and if he dies, then everyone will attack. Cavallone would even join in if they say something in it. I wasn’t planning on telling you so soon, but do you remember the last time Dino came over?”
“… Yeah…”
“I chased him off because he was snooping around in place someone from Cavallone shouldn’t be. Tsunayoshi, he was looking for the data Irie and Spanner collected for you. You shouldn’t trust anyone other than your guardians, Dame-Tsuna. Ah, you should probably also know that it was Nono who ordered that you come over and be trained to handle assassinations. He was originally planning on having you look over exactly what was considered business next summer and having you come over completely after high school. Xanxus gave you a little preview with the prostitutes. I assure you… it’s much much worse than just that. You have no idea how happy Nono was at hearing how many you had shot down in one blast, how much the others feared you, feared the Vongola. He wanted to die sooner. To see you from hell as you wrecked the world however you wished it. He wanted to see a glimpse of it as soon as possible, confirm that he was right in placing trust in you.”
“And you? Did you want it?”
Reborn paused before taking his hat off and helping Tsunayoshi to his feet, “No. I said it was too early. I wanted for him to clean up a little before he brought you in all of this. A welcoming gift of sorts. And unlike what you may think, I actually do want you to have a somewhat normal childhood before you run off to do whatever it was you wanted to do. You would also have to tell Nana, no you will tell her and that would take time. So, I gave an estimate, it got rejected. I warned him, he didn’t listen. You ran off, I pick you up. I do things in the long run. I wanted you to accept everything gracefully. But now we’re left with a Dame-Tsuna that’s worried about his ever-waning conscious. Ah, but with you, you need things spelled out letter by letter… Don’t bother trying to be a hero, Tsuna, you have neither the will to save everyone nor the kindness. If someone so much as touched Lambo, you would extinguish them – you already did, didn’t you? Anyway, it doesn’t really matter, you’re already what you are meant to be.”
“Wh-Why are you telling me this?”
“Because I don’t want you running off again. You actually did scare me back there. Congratulations. The first person to do so after I was named the World’s Greatest Hitman.”
Tsunayoshi clenched his fists as Leon curled around his neck, tail lazily flicking his hair. His face was downcast and his breath was bated. Reborn stared, curious as to what his student was thinking. If he was angry, upset, sad, or disappointed. If his gut pinched itself over and over and over again, or if there was simply the cool feeling of regret that he even allowed himself to feel close to him. If he would start bawling or if he would only look up, loop up at him with the same golden eyes he used to stare down his enemies. Would he abandon him, or would he tell him off and bring him back in? Would he disappear again or would he stay, stay with him because there couldn’t possibly be any other person to be with.
Tsunayoshi shook his head, it was pointless for him to question Reborn, to question his motives and his goals. Everything around Reborn was pointless because he was an insurmountable wall that Tsunayoshi could only ever follow. If Reborn wanted him to give up on Ryohei, Tsunayoshi would eventually give up on Ryohei, not because he wanted to, but because he would. Because Reborn was never wrong about such things. Any time wasted on the details would mean less time for his moments with Ryohei.
Not that he spent much time with the other.
And Tsunayoshi was struck with how correct the other could be.
“… How long are you planning on waiting?”
“As long as it takes.”
“… What happened to the ability users?”
Reborn blinked. It was a fast change of conversation, a sudden change. One that was like Tsunayoshi, always evolving, always changing.
“What about them?”
“How did they die- Why did they die? Did you know them?”
“… Yes,” Reborn turned away from Tsunayoshi to hide his frown, “Their deaths are the reason I’m the world’s greatest hitman.”
It took a little bit of time for his words to sink in.
“No,” Tsunayoshi looked at him, walking to reach for his wrist, “No. Reborn, you- That’s- What?”
“They were worth a lot of money and people kept failing, so I thought it’d be a fun challenge,” Reborn answered, turning to stare at him as he allowed, allowed, his wrist to be taken hold of, “I was young. Somewhat broke from school. A couple million didn’t hurt.”
“You killed them?”
“I’m a hitman, Tsuna.”
“But- They’re-”
“What-? Detectives? Heroes of the forthright?”
“They’re- basically civilian- Well, some of them-?”
“At the time,” Reborn drawled, “Hunting ability users was really a sport.”
“A what.”
“A sport. Like game,” He could hear the sound of something grating against Tsunayoshi’s skin, “Please don’t tell me you got attached in a manner of a few months- Less than a few months.”
“What- What do you mean?”
“I mean,” Reborn’s wrist prickled, “It was like hunting boar with spears. People did it for fun and for money. Ah… There is a… greater reason for all of it, but at the time, people did it because they could. Vongola, Cavallone – you can ask Timoteo who he killed, because he probably did it as well. Everyone did it.”
“Who did you kill?”
“Do you really want to know?”
“Yes-?!”
“No,” Reborn pulled him a little bit closer, enough to make him sputter, “No, Tsuna, you really don’t. You know who I killed. You know exactly who I shot and that’s why you’re asking. Because you ask stupid questions you know the answer to. All the time, every day, every hour, every minute, every second. It’s your- Tossicomania. You need it to confirm everything your intuition says. Like a drug. What does your intuition say?”
Tsunayoshi’s breath was bated as he steadied himself.
Reborn only ever took the best.
And Tsunayoshi only ever knew the best.
“Atsushi-san… and Dazai-san.”
Reborn smiled something unpleasant. It was the kind of smile he saw him make whenever he successfully killed someone that harmed Tsunayoshi, the same smile at the end of a long mission. The same smile he had when he was draped over his couch, languidly as though to unravel the pieces of himself for him.
“Well, those and some others.”
“How did you kill them?”
Reborn sighed. Tsunayoshi always asked the stupid questions.
“For Atsushi,” Reborn started, “I watched him and his companion for three months. They developed strategy for snipers, where Atsushi would wear Akutagawa’s coat. Akutagawa’s coat provided cover against gunfire, and for the ones that did hit him, he could heal himself. Akutagawa would take cover and Akutagawa’s coat would kill the snipers once he knew where they were. If Akutagawa couldn’t see, Atsushi would get into close combat and take them out. The problem was that Akutagawa’s coat relied on Akutagawa to see what was going on, or else the coat would be a normal coat. He could sometimes guess, but it wasn’t always accurate if he didn’t have a clear depiction of the situation.”
“Atsushi is… smart, clever, but he’s not infallible to habits. I raised the price of the bounty on Atsushi to roughly nearly one hundred million dollars – not that I had that money – and let people try. Most of them were snipers, and most of them would only ever attack from one direction because they’re stupid and they underestimated ability users. After a month of that, I asked Colonnello to shoot at them, just when they woke up as I waited beside their window. Atsushi was fine for the first few bullets, but I was better so I kill him. His regeneration doesn’t work well if he’s instantly killed. After that, I shot Akutagawa.”
“… What about Dazai-san?”
“… Dazai was easier. I just had to shoot him once he was away from Chuya. He knew there were snipers, he knew there were good snipers, he just didn’t expect there to be one who would follow him for half a year. Hits aren’t supposed to be long. They rarely have no time limit. I don’t like being on a mission for too long. He had the suspicion, but to stay with Chuya like glue would be dangerous to him in another more reliable way so he took a risk.”
Tsunayoshi looked away from him, staring at the background of Namimori, “And that was that.”
“That was that. Don’t think too hard about it.”
“Don’t think too hard about it, huh.”
“They were in a situation where if I wasn’t the one who killed them, someone else would. If someone else didn’t kill them, there would be another assassin who would. The entire world marked them as a target. They couldn’t go anywhere. Nowhere was safe.”
“And Dazai now knows that.”
“He is the type to figure it out,” Reborn sighed, “He must have realized when he found out that you didn’t actually know the date. Oh, seriously Tsuna? The date? You could have at least asked.”
“I blame that on the training,” Tsunayoshi muttered, “How was I supposed to know that I’d be going into the past?”
“No, you’re just stupid,” Leon uncurled from Tsunayoshi as he skittled back to Reborn, “Don’t blame that one on me. Tsuna, make me your consigliere.”
“Are you seriously- seriously asking me that now?”
“Why not ask that now? Make me your consigliere, Tsuna.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Why do you want to be my consigliere?”
“Why do I want to be your consigliere?”
“And don’t give me some bullshit answer that you care about me.”
Reborn’s finger tapped against his leg. He was thinking, Tsunayoshi realized, not about the question, but how to phrase his answer. How to say words that wouldn’t have Tsunayoshi running off, words that wouldn’t shut him up and turn away. How to say words that would have him understand and accept.
How to manipulate him into agreeing.
Tsunayoshi could peak into what Reborn thought if he tried.
But he didn’t want to.
“… I want to commit the crimes that you don’t want to commit,” Reborn started, slowly, carefully, “Do the things you can bring yourself to do. When you aren’t sure of yourself, when you don’t know what you are, I want to be able to remind you because we both know, your guardians idolize you too much to see you for what you are. Timoteo wanted absolute obedience from them to you, but that means that they don’t see anything wrong with what you do. I can tell you if you’re being stupid, rash, idiotic.”
He took his hand again, dropped somewhere amongst his words.
“That’s not why, Reborn,” Tsunayoshi said, almost chidingly, “That’s what you want to do. I want a reason. So I don’t feel like I’m taking advantage of you. Like I’m wasting the time that I nearly fought with you for.”
Reborn narrowed his eyes, body becoming younger to come eye-to-eye, “You’re getting too sharp. I miss the Tsuna that believed me when I told him about bullshit Vongola traditions that didn’t exist. What if I told you I love you?”
“What if I told you that you’re being mean and rude to my feelings for you? Tell me why. Then I’ll consider it.”
“… A few months in Yokohama and you’re already like this,” Reborn gripped his hand a little tighter, “What about that I care about you?”
“If you cared about me, then you’d let me leave.”
“What if I said I wanted to watch you grow up.”
“You already did.”
“I want to control you, to keep you in my grasp.”
“You already do. In some way.”
“Really? Now that’s pleasing to know. That just leaves it at I love you. I love you, Tsuna. I want to be with you. Isn’t that what you wanted from me?”
“Don’t make fun of me, Reborn,” Tsunayoshi squeezed Reborn’s hand a little, “You know that’s not true.”
If Reborn loved him, he would have never had to worry about Vongola because it would already be in ashes. If Reborn loved him, he would have been stuck in Namimori, or some part of Japan, mafia-less and surrounded by friends rather than guardians. If Reborn loved him, he wouldn’t know who Reborn was.
“Then, since you’re so sure about it, why not you give me a reason?”
“You feel guilty,” Tsunayoshi answered, “You feel guilty about me, about my life, about what you’re doing to me. You watched me, no, you’re watching me turn crooked and insane and you feel guilty because- because I love you. Because I do and will do anything to make sure that you are happier than whatever half-life you were living before. And that makes you guilty. It’s why you rejected me. Because accepting me would be like admitting that you’re ruining me. It’s also why you offered to be my consigliere after you realized I loved you. It’s also why you’re so insistent on it.”
“And it’s also why you won’t accept me,” Reborn was once again a baby, face unmoveable and unreadable. His voice a squeaky, “Because you know me being your consigliere will only make me de.”
Tsunayoshi smiled at Reborn. It was the same smile he would smile when he was younger. The smile he would give Reborn after surviving something he didn’t think he would live through. The only kind of smile that would make Reborn feel a little bit better.
He really was rubbing off too much from him.
“Don’t… Don’t be too concerned about me,” Tsunayoshi said softly, “If anything, I chose to be here. It’s not because you forced me to, or because you made me like this. I let myself be taught. I let myself become this. I burden myself to be like this. So… You shouldn’t feel like you’re making me become something I hate. Just… Just guide me. Like you’ve always done. It’s more than anything anyone has or will do for me. And when you’re done, live. Because I want you to live for the years that you couldn’t live.”
He gently held his hand, once again in the body of a small baby that wrought his doorsteps with bullets and textbooks. Small and soft, lacking the ridges that marked his experience. An unmarked baby’s hand that somehow had more weight than the Earth itself. It made him calm down and sicken as he realized how much Tsunayoshi supported him. Like still raft on a raging sea, one that refused to let him simply fall and drown, he held his hand. Holding each other until they couldn’t tell who was the raft and who was the passenger.
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