The Cynical World
A/N: Well, um, yeah, hi Katekyo Hitman Reborn! fans and others. This is for Dior Crystal's KHR Angst writing contest. I don't write angst that often so I don't know how well this turned out. If you have read any of the others then you'll already know that the prompt is fade and the pairing is 2700(Tsuna x Enma). This is kinda on the track of the canon story but kinda not, I don't know. Sorry if you don't like it or get bored! And for all my readers of my fanfiction Atarashi Yumiero Patissiere (fashionpoetry, I'm talking to you!) sorry for not updating! The thing is, my computer has been hormonal and I've had a huge writers block (now to be known as 'Cousin Dave') so I haven't written anything. Anyways, I might delete this depending on what you guys think so please state your mind on this one-shot (might pick up later.) So on to the story!
Ps. You might see both vocaloid and sound horizon refrences if you look hard enough!
As I sat in my dark room, my body wrapped in a crowd of cold hearted metal chains and blinking devices that were nowhere to be seen occasionally beep every so often. Why is it that I can't feel it anymore? When had the warmth in my body disappeared to? How long has it been gone for?
Days...?
Weeks...?
Months...?
Years...?
Forever...?
That's right, I never felt it; it never existed in me in the first place. Then why do I long for it? Right, I saw it in him, what was his name? Sawada Tsunayoshi was it? I don't know anymore. Everything's been faded and blurred into a single painting, an abstract and lost memory. We were friends, we were enemies, we laughed, we fought, what were we exactly? I can't remember. I feel a twinge of pain when I think of him, so why do I feel hope as well? It makes me feel uneasy but at the same time I feel a little peaceful. Why is when I think of him I have such contradicting feelings?
I don't want to think about, my past. My memories were smudged by this darkness, a cruel artist. The artist streaked his brush into my head, everything smudging into one, all except one sentence. "I'll save you! No matter what it takes I'll save you!" I muttered softly to myself. That one sentence was the only thing sparred. The words held such passion and meaning, so much that I could almost believe it. I know it's not true; the fate I've been sentenced to is one that I can't escape, for that is the cruel reality that this darkness holds upon me.
Ah, how I wish it was true. Why won't someone save me? They can't, that's why. I'm locked in a fake garden that is impossible to escape from and impossible to get into. A bird in an artificial habitat carried around in a cage by an untouchable monster.
Why am I here? What did I do to deserve this fate? I thought I use to know but I can't remember; it was smudged with everything else. I feel a fleeting feeling that someone dear to me is safe, but why do I feel a little angry? I never questioned this before? Now that I do I feel the same way I do about Tsuna; the contradicting feelings warring over my body. Their weapons are the chains that keep me confined, ripping me apart in its fruitless battle.
I never was aware of anything in this cage; time just passed by with myself losing who my grip on reality, never to return. It was like living in a dark twisted fantasy world. The pain of reality is unbearable, it tears at my chest. Who am I? A lost boy wandering alone in a dark room, chains attached to my wrist and ankles that wraps its way around my body. I'm suffocating, I can't breathe. Everything is gone; I don't know who I am anymore! Who did I know? Who did I hate? Who did I love?
The panic set into my body and I thrashed around the room, making the chains clank as I reach for a non-existent salvation. 'Their' artificial garden was broken, I know and I don't know. I know that this is not real, all just a dream, just a dream I'll wake up from like any other day. What I don't know is who am I? Why am I here? What kind of person was I? How long have I been dreaming? Then I realised one thing, Sawada Tsunayoshi, who are you?
There was a sudden rush of pain in my head and a memory that was slightly smudged hit me like a bullet. I was being beaten by some kids in uniforms, when suddenly another boy in the same uniform rushed in. He told them to stop; he only got beat up like I was. He looked so small, so frail with his big round milk chocolate eyes and so, so, so ...cute. When they got bored and left I looked at him again, his oak brown hair was a mess and I could feel a slight blush rushing to my cheeks. I told him I was thankful for trying and ran off, confused about what I was feeling. The memory ended there.
"Who was that?" I screamed out loud to the wall as if I was expecting an answer. I guess I was. I started kicking the wall, pounding it, yelling at it. "Who the hell was that?" I screeched at it, was I really doing this? It was like watching yourself in a movie in first person, 'that's not me,' I thought to myself. Then why was I still doing it? My body was possessed by an overwhelming emotion that I could not control, helplessly watching myself trying to get answers out of a wall.
I stopped yelling at it and just punched at it, I've gone mad. For some reason it felt like it was getting weaker, crumbling away under the sheer pressure from my overflowing emotions. I could sympathise with that wall, my sanity was crumbling down and shattering into a million little pieces. Will I ever be able to piece them back together? Probably not, not until I escape from this mind trap. I punched the wall once more, so softly, no more vigour left in it. It was a small tap, yet it crumbled into pieces and a bright, blinding white light filled the room. In the distance stood a figure, I reached out to it.
I awoke in a very lucid state; everything was so bright, so sharp, and so real. I was lying in a small room made out of a pale brown and thick wood. The bed felt so soft, so warm. I wanted to stay like that, so close to the warmth but not having it myself. Then I felt the slight weight on my chest, a fairly large orange cat was sleeping on me. It felt unnaturally warm. Maybe it was running a fever? That wasn't all I found though, on the edge of the bed, head on the bed right next to my legs slept a boy, the same boy in the flashback. He looked older, more mature but still cute and frail looking.
I smiled; they looked so peaceful, almost like a dream. I squinted my eyes to get a better look at them; I wasn't use to the brightness of the outside world's brightness, that'll take awhile to get use to. Moving ever so slightly I removed the cat from my chest and placed it softly on the bed. Twisting and rolling my body, I moved closer to him and put my lips against his forehead. Why did I do that? I can't understand why I feel like this around a person I can't even remember. My eye wandered slightly out to the window and there stood one of them, a man wrapped head to toe in bandages and wore a black coat with an old fashioned hat. There was a shrill beep and it pointed towards me and everything faded back into my dark cell, back into the cynical world of contradictions.
So how did I do?