WARNING: Character death, suicidal thoughts, dark story plot ahead. Not for the faint-hearted. Please read with an open mind. I am not a depressed or emo kid. I do not own Katekyo Hitman Reborn or the song Without You.
AN: I'm not sure what inspired me to write such a dark fic, but I really wanted to show a darker side of Tsuna and how the mafia life affected him. It's really dark, so really, proceed with an open mind. If you dislike character death or depression fics, please don't read. I'm perfectly normal, it's just that well… I wanted to try writing something like this.
Day 1: Denial
Challenge accepted from here: 30 Days of Writing: A Drabble A Day Challenge on Tumblr
I won't soar, I won't fly;
If you're not here, I'm paralysed without you.
Without you.
~ Without You – David Guetta ft. Usher ~
It's not real. They're still here.
He swallows the bile back and reaches for the glass containing the amber liquid on his desk, trembling fingers grasping the wet slippery surface as he tips his head back and the cool whiskey slides down his throat. He feels the burn and he relishes the temporary distraction, slipping into a temporary bliss
But the moment the glass is set down and the burn subsides, the matter returns, and it is not gone.
It's there in front of him, but he can't do anything about it.
There are some things you can't change, Dame-Tsuna, this one of them.
He hears Reborn's voice in his ears, ringing ruthlessly as reminds him. He shudders violently, his hands grasping at his shoulders as he hunches over, his breaths coming in pants. He claws at the fabric beneath his fingers, his eyelids tightening as he screws up his eyes and buries his head in his lap, shaking as the desperate sobs start to leak out from behind his lips.
Stop, stop, how dare you say that they are gone.
They are still here.
Stop it, they don't hate me.
STOP.
The tears well up in his eyes and he struggles to breathe. Red flashes before his eyes and all he can see is blood. A lot of it. It splatters on the ground before him and congeals sickeningly, the blood of his family before him. The coughs come hacking up his throat, his lungs seeming to collapse as he gazes upon the red before him.
It's solidifying, and suddenly, it's no longer just blood. It's Takeshi lying before him, the red staining his handsome face as the tall athletic body lies motionless in the pool of crimson. The scar on his face still prominent as the blood trickles down his temple as soaks his collar, turning the dark, once calming blue into a vile shade of tainted mauve, reminiscent of the colour of death. His precious blade lies in his hand still, the same red seemingly tattooed onto the metal. swirling wild patterns of death across its wielder's thighs. From the hand pools the red as it gushes out from the other end, the wrist having being severed clean off.
And it's all your fault.
Suddenly it's no longer Takeshi lying in the pool of his own blood. It's Hayato, blood staining his silver hair as he kneels in the red pool, his hands lying uselessly across his lap. The green irises are bloodshot as his right-hand man stares listlessly back at him, the trust and admiration once present in them gone with no trace left behind at all. His fingers are crushed, broken and the red seeps into the shirt that is of the same shade, and Hayato raises those mutilated fingers to his face and touches his lips to each fingertip. Fingers that no longer could throw bombs, no longer expertly sort out his paperwork. Fingers that could no longer play the melodies on black and white keys that connected him to the woman that gave birth to him.
You are the reason he became this.
The lithe body with silver locks is gone. It is a smaller body, dark locks splayed messily across the youngest guardian's face, the red now splashed across his torso as the horns the Bovino treasured the most lay mere inches away from him, broken and crushed into bits and powder. Lambo's dull green eyes watch him blankly as he lies on his side, fingers twitching, wanting to reach out for his precious horns, but failing to do so as the red continues spreading in a larger pool around his torso. Electricity flickers around him, but only serves to shock the user's body, jerking pallid useless limbs about as his Lighting Guardian remains prone on the ground, his innocent dark green eyes boring into him.
You were supposed to protect him.
The red now forms two people; one with messy wavy blond hair holding the other. a raven tenderly in his arms, sienna irises looking at the still form desperately before turning up to lock gazes with him. Dino gazes at him, disappointment and hopelessness in his eyes before gathering the lithe form in his arms to his chest, the red spilling from it runs down his hands in small rivulets, the tears running down the blonde's face mixing into the streams. The raven remains motionless in his lover's arms, one arm flopping down uselessly to drop a tonfa on top of the red, the metal clanging far too loudly on the floor, splashing the red up again. The blond gazes at Hibari sadly before pressing his mouth to his, eyes closing as more red stains the golden hair.
I trusted you.
It's yet another person with silver hair, holding a honey-blonde in his arms as the red continues forming a larger pool around them. The girl's silky hair is messily chopped and stained with that red while Ryohei watches her with droopy eyes, reflecting nothing but disillusionment. He presses a kiss to that blood-stained forehead, his own fists smeared with red as they shake and Kyoko slips out of her brother's weak arms, sliding into the pool of red with a sickening plop sound. He collapses on top of her, chest heaving weakly as yet more red spills mercilessly across the floor.
Tsunayoshi.
It's his worst nightmare staring back at him now. Purple hair once gathered into an elegant ponytail fans out around his beloved's head like a halo, accentuating the pale skin of his face. One eye looks at him, adoring, forgiving as weak fingers reach out towards him, shaking with the effort. Thin lips part and mouth his name, white teeth flashing as the syllables make their way out of his mouth. There's no sound, but he feels the affection, the warmth of his voice. The place where the other eye had been is no more than a gaping empty hole, red pouring out of it. His beloved's chest constricts and suddenly there is more red than ever as it gargles out with a sickening hack from those pale lips that used to kiss him every day. The red stains that sweet mouth that used to whisper endless promises to him, adoring declarations of love in bed.
I love you.
"Mukuro."
He sobs, reaching out a hand towards the figure, who still mouths his name so adoringly, still looks at him so lovingly. He tries to stumble forward, but almost immediately is stopped by an unseen barrier as his lover and Mist Guardian looks at him tenderly and shakes his head, more red gushing out of him at a frightening rate. The stained lips press together in a small sad smile, and suddenly there's no more Mukuro.
Just him and his heaving chest, his blurred eyes and a small pool of red in front of him.
More dripping from his lips.
He lets out a choked laugh as he stares at the red. Red, once the colour of bravery, the colour of passion that fueled his family. He hates the red now he realises, it has taken away from him, his guardians, and their loved ones.
And he's nothing without them.
He's all alone now. The glorious Vongola headquarters stained in blood as he curls up in a corner and waits for no one. He forces a sad smirk as he ignites his Dying Will Flame and presses his fingers around the area above his heart.
They're not dead, he tells himself. Lies, they wouldn't die, they wouldn't leave him, they wouldn't hate him, they wouldn't do this. The red is now leaking out around his fingers as he ignores the pain screaming through his veins; he doesn't feel anymore.
The last thing Sawada Tsunayoshi saw before he closed his eyes was the red.
The last thought that crossed his mind before his eyelids slipped over his amber irises was still just three words.
Three words that he had been repeating since everything started.
We'll be fine.
We will be, won't we.
A/N:
Phewww finally finished this after so long! Hey guys, my prelims are starting soon but I'll still be sneaking out pockets of time to write cause I have accepted this 30 Day Prompt Challenge and this is DAY ONE! WHOOT!
I seriously didn't expect this to turn out so dark...but do leave a review or favorite this! Feedback is appreciated, but I do not appreciate it if you tell me I need to go for counseling, or that I am some emo kid with emotional issues. I have already warned you guys that this is a dark fic, but I do hope you enjoyed it! Thumbs up for my secret OTP 6927...?
:D