Sorry but I need to get this out of my system. Probs non-canonical in some parts; I can't really remember the exact happenings in the series. Shall we just say that this is an alternate scenario of when Yamamoto tried to commit suicide?

Fair warning that this might be rather jumbled in some places hahah I just really wanted some 8027.

Disclaimer: I don't own KHR.

He was resolute in his decision to end his life that day when he found out that his future as a pro baseball player would never be something that'll happen. Yamamoto knew that there wasn't anything else that he could be good at the same level that he was when it comes to baseball. Sure, his father had taught him how to make sushi and to wield the sword—though in the latter's case, Yamamoto can count in one hand the times that his father really taught him about it seriously—but they were not something that made Yamamoto burn with life from inside out. They were not enough to make him hold on to dear life.

Flashes of what people described him as ran through his mind as fast as the evening wind that ruffled his short hair. It drew a bitter smile from his lips as he repeated the words frequently used to describe him: sunny, happy, inspiring, uplifting. They echoed in his head endlessly, the words bearing no weight yet feeling extremely heavy at the same time. Was he really the person that all those people were speaking of?

Eyes staring up at the dimming sky, Yamamoto took in the sight of Namimori one last time. He thought himself rather selfish for doing this at school; there's no doubt that this will be the content of the news for days to come, probably a week at most. He could already see the headlines—Promising Namimori High Student Takes His Life!—and it breaks his heart a little to realize that he'll be putting other people to grief because of his selfishness. But he knew the grief that he'll cause will be temporary, because humans are resilient like that. His father might grieve longer, cling to the pain 'til he had to let go lest it takes him also, but Yamamoto knew he would eventually find it in him to move past this.

"That's enough thinking," Yamamoto muttered to himself as he took a step closer to the edge of the rooftop. The concrete below remained to appear innocently grey. "Maa, I kinda wish that I'd written dad something—"

"Yamamoto!"

The clang of metal against the wall was like thunder that sliced through the stillness of the evening. Yamamoto looked over his shoulder to see—Tsuna, Sawada Tsuna who was nearly on his knees as he tried to catch his breath, shirt and hair sticking to his skin. It would be a lie to say that Yamamoto wasn't surprised; they were on good terms, Tsuna and him, despite their dissimilar social status at school and rare interactions. He wasn't someone that Yamamoto would think will stop him, though. They weren't...friends enough to be like this to each other.

Yet here Tsuna was, eyes pleading as he gulped air to keep himself alive. He stumbled forward on the first step, eyes still locked with Yamamoto's dull ones. "Yama...this isn't...please, don't."

Yamamoto bristled then, eyes going sharper in an instant, and it was the most alive that Tsuna had seen him this whole week. "I don't think you have the right to tell me what to do, Dame Tsuna." It was unfair, to use the one thing that always hurt Tsuna every day, but Yamamoto could care less because he won't be here tomorrow to see the brunette's drooping shoulders and downcast eyes.

He didn't take into consideration how his words will affect Tsuna, though. The smaller teen looked as though Yamamoto took his bat and hit him with it on the chest, the pain in his face making Yamamoto's heart clench.

"I—" Tsuna gulped, whole body trembling as he straightened. Pain and resignation were apparent in his features, his forced smile amplifying the message that he was in pain instead of assuring Yamamoto otherwise.

"I know that," he murmured. "B-But, you can't just throw this away!"

"What exactly am I throwing away? This?" Yamamoto lifted his injured arm as high as he could, chuckling bitterly at the pain that coursed through his right side due to it. "Doesn't seem like much to throw away."

"I was—you." Tsuna fumbled for words, and Yamamoto oddly found himself waiting for what he wanted to say. "I meant you can't throw yourself away. Your...life."

Yamamoto stared at him dubiously, the untold question hanging in between them. Why shouldn't I?

"You're important, you know. Not just because you're a great baseball player. You...you're an inspiration. I've lost count of all the people who I've heard that were inspired by you, Yamamoto. And your presence..." Tsuna's smile turned to something else then, into a...happier one. "It's really warm! Being around you, I mean. And...I...well, I would like to...that is..."

While Tsuna continued to falter with his words, Yamamoto regarded the brunette with searching eyes. He searched for tricks or hints of dishonesty, weighed his words for hollowness, and he was disappointed (relieved) when he found none of those. Unlike the usual people that he associated with everyday, Tsuna didn't seem to be fishing for Yamamoto's...anything. He was just here to convey his feelings to Yamamoto with the hope that it might make the taller teen reconsider his decision.

That was...more than Yamamoto had expected for someone like Tsuna. This was obviously stressing the brunette out, but he wasn't relenting until Yamamoto stepped back inside the safety of the railings. He continued to recite how much Yamamoto's death will affect people, ignoring how his voice cracks up at some point.

Are you talking about the others or about yourself, Tsuna?

Under the faint light of the moon, Yamamoto can see how Tsuna's eyes seemed brighter when his words didn't seem to be having an effect to the other teen. Tears were making them brighter, Yamamoto realized with a sense of wonder, and that's when Yamamoto knew that he will rescind his attempt to kill himself even before Tsuna pleads for it again.

"Hey Tsuna." Tsuna immediately clamped his mouth shut, eyes wide as he watched Yamamoto climb over the railing. Yamamoto crossed the distance between them in long strides, ending up a feet away in front of the brunette in mere seconds. "You'll be stuck with me, you know? I'll need to be around you a lot so that I'll feel the need to stay alive."

Tsuna inhaled sharply, prompting Yamamoto to study his face closely for any signs of regret. After all, it wouldn't take much for him to run back to his previous position and beyond that. "You should be more worried about yourself, you know. You will be stuck with me."

Yamamoto smiled then, reaching out to ruffle Tsuna's hair while saying, "Doesn't seem too bad."

Yamamoto had known for quite some time that this wasn't a game. He just continued maintaining his facade of not knowing anything because it was easier to hide everything else under his happy-go-lucky attitude. The only ones who suspected him were Reborn and, unsurprisingly, Gokudera.

"Don't hang around the Tenth too much, baseball freak," Gokudera all but hissed to Yamamoto. His shirt's top buttons were undone, showing Yamamoto a glimpse of bandages from recently acquired wounds.

"Ah, no can do, Gokudera." Yamamoto's smile widened when Gokudera's frown deepened. His hand came up to scratch at his nape, making others see the bandages wrapped from his elbow down to his wrist. "He's the one that keeps me alive, you know."

Before Gokudera could take out some of his dynamites, Tsuna walked in the classroom while worriedly glancing over his shoulder. Upon seeing his two friends, Tsuna lit up almost immediately and jogged toward them. Today, Yamamoto smiled easily as he's reminded of why he continues to live.

They're being ambushed, that much Yamamoto could garner as he sliced through numerous bodies in search of his comrades. Blood coated him from left and right, but that didn't deter the swordsman as he frantically looked for a certain brunette. He knew Tsuna could hold his own against enemies like these, but life in the mafia was never certain.

"Tsuna!" he screamed at the top of his lungs. As an answer, the wall next to him blew up, debris flying everywhere. When Yamamoto lowered his arm, it was Tsuna's slumped form against the wall that greeted him. His blood ran cold.

"Tsuna!" Everything then slowed down for him, from Tsuna's coughs that had him spitting blood to the man from a few feet away raising a gun. It was aimed straightly at Tsuna's head, and Yamamoto's close enough to do one thing.

The sound of the gun shot was drowned by the shouts and clashes of various weapons. It was Tsuna's scream that drew everyone's attention to him, and it was his despaired form crawling close to Yamamoto's fallen body that spurred the rest of his guardians into a killing frenzy.

"Yamamoto, hey. Hey." Tsuna's hands hovered over Yamamoto's body, unsure whether he should touch his friend or not. He settled for cupping Yamamoto's face between his hands and turn the swordsman's head to the side so that he was facing Tsuna. "Hey, don't fall asleep. No sleeping on the job, remember?"

Yamamoto heaved out a chuckle, pain blossoming where the bullet was lodged at his chest. "Reborn isn't...here to punish, though."

He regretted it when he felt warm liquid fall on his cheek. Ah, don't cry, he wanted to say. Unfortunately, even breathing was a chore now.

"Reborn will be here soon, just—just wait, please." Tsuna pressed his forehead against Yamamoto's, his choked sobs being the only thing that Yamamoto was able to focus on at the moment. Not that he'd have it another way; if he always got what he wanted, he'd always be wrapped around Tsuna, basking in his warmth and smiles and everything that made Tsuna.

"Hey Tsuna," he whispered, mildly surprised when Tsuna raised his head a bit to be able to look into his eyes. Yamamoto raised his left hand, tangling his fingers in brown hair as he pulled Tsuna back down. "Thanks," he said just before his lips met Tsuna's.

The angle was awkward, and this was undoubtedly one of the worst kisses in history ever. Yamamoto couldn't find it in himself to give a shit, though, not even when he tasted blood—his and Tsuna's—and felt Tsuna tense momentarily into the kiss. After all, this was a better souvenir to take with him when he passes on to the next life instead of the view of Namimori from a few months back.

"Please don't go," he thought he heard Tsuna speak softly against his lips when he succumbed to the darkness.

Yamamoto's first thought when he opened his eyes was that the afterlife appeared very similar to a hospital room. He felt a pang of disappointment at that, which was then immediately forgotten when he caught sight brown hair at the corner of his eyes.

"Tsuna?" he called out before he could confirm who the other person was. He received no verbal response, but Yamamoto already got his confirmation when he heard the sharp intake of breath. Like that time.

"You're an idiot," Tsuna said to him. Angrily said to him, Yamamoto corrected. It was simultaneously a refreshing and disturbing thing; Tsuna has never gotten angry at him before.

"Sorry. About the kiss." Yamamoto closed his eyes when the feet of a chair scratched the floor. If he had died, then he wouldn't be facing Tsuna's disappointment now.

"You really are an idiot." He could feel Tsuna standing by his bedside now, his warmth making Yamamoto want to reach out and hold on to it. He stayed still, eyes closed but not for long. "Look at me, Takeshi."

It was the first order that Tsuna had given him, yet it was Tsuna calling him by his name that had Yamamoto obeying. Tsuna held his gaze with an intensity that's only seen during a battle, and it made Yamamoto's throat go dry. Aside from that, he couldn't see disappointment on his friend's features, only acceptance and relief. Tsuna's relief at seeing his friend alive trumped any other emotion on his face, reminding Yamamoto how much Tsuna valued his life. Yamamoto wanted to cry because of it. Because Tsuna has given him a second life despite not knowing him well, because Tsuna smiled at him every day to keep his spirits up even though his role in the mafia didn't book much room for smiles, because Tsuna loved him despite how selfish and unimportant Yamamoto was—

And he did cry, because it just dawned on him that Tsuna loved him and the brunette was repeating this realization to him in the guise of a boss's stern lecture.

FYI, I don't know how this evolved into a 2k-word fic and took 3 hours of my night...