Summary: Reborn had always been his most trusted confidante. With the hitman's death that was seen with his very own eyes, how would the best student of the hitman react? Simple. He just had to stand up, raised his head up, and say, "…if my tutor could die like that, I would shoot myself."
Warning(s): Shitty Grammar, OOC, mild language, set in the Future Arc

Understanding

Dropping to his knees, the Decimo breathed. His eyes trained on the ground as he regained his calm. He stood up, his flames flickering in resolve as he trudged forward. Blasting off the ground, he flew towards the sky, his flames that was considered the most pure of it all was used by his as his propeller.

Bang.

Bang.

Sounds of gunshots were heard and the Decimo dodged it like a manner. He smirked, his eyes glistening in orange as his flames on his forehead flickered, at the same time lightning the darkening sky. He propelled, punching the man in the face, then chopped the other one that was on the back, and blocked with the First's Vongola Boss's technique, Zero Point Breakthrough: First Edition, the bullets that were covered in sun flames that almost hit him, if his intuition wasn't there.

Glaring, he blasted off the sky, almost hitting the tree that was up ahead if he hadn't been looking. He produced more flames, igniting as he used it to prevent him from hitting the trunk of the tree. Satisfied, he looked up, only to meet lots of guns pointed at his form. Smirking, he attacked one by one, knocking each men on the ground with his gloved hands.

"Zero Point Breakthrough: Revised," he muttered, his flames flickering the way it was when it was changing from minus to plus state, and when the men from the neighboring Famiglia fired, he closed his eyes, and absorbed all the flames.

The warmth returned. He opened his eyes wide, his flames flickering purer than it was before, and attacked with all his will. All the while, forgetting that it wasn't just him fighting.

There was his tutor too, fighting single-handedly as his tutor used his special bullets. Smirking, the hitman fired, and three bodies dropped to the ground. No one died, but barely breathing. That was enough. The hitman jumped from tree to tree as he fired more bullets, hitting its target from the vital points, but could not immediately send them to hell. Although, from what the hitman observed from his trained eyes, the men would want to die, than be sent to the hospital looking like tattered trashes.

And then something unexpected happened, the Decimo's exposed back was targeted from the men in the shadows, all five fired, not even hesitating as the sun flames trudged forward, all the more creating the accuracy that could lead the Vongola Boss's death.

"REBORN!" and all the activities that were happening stopped. Decimo was on the ground, the baby hitman on his arms as the Decimo looked at his tutor's small body. He wasn't crying, nor could anyone hear anything from the pair than the rustling sounds of the trees swaying.

"Dame…Tsuna…I…always…told…you…not…to…leave…your…ba ck…exposed…" the hitman breathed, life seemingly out of the baby hitman's grasp as the Decimo leaned more closer, cradling the hitman closed to his chest, but no one could make out how the Decimo looked behind those bangs. "I…have…taught…you…better…than…that…Dame-Tsuna," and the baby hitman's fedora went downward, his face covered in shadows, and laid limply next to the Decimo's quivering chest.

Breathing, inhaling, exhaling, the Decimo found his voice. There was a lump on his throat, but he needed to move forward or else the Milliefiore would find his men, and him. And had another party coming after them. He didn't want to risk something as shaky as that.

Exhaling, he stood up, blocking all the bullets that were sent to his direction. His tutor was dead. And he was dead tired. He couldn't even feel that his hands were already shaking. The Decimo shook himself, commanding in an authoritative tone as he said.

"We'll retreat for now. Let's go," and he jumped, carrying his tutor on his side, the Decimo blasted off to the sky, his pure flames could be seen from afar, but no one could see the single tear the Decimo had shed.

His tutor had died.

Quietly, he reached the ground, and felt his legs quivering. He staggered, but still holding the hitman on his chest. His eyes began to blur, but no one, not even his men decided to interfere. It was their boss's moment and they would, could not interfere.

The Decimo stopped shaking, his shoulders slumped forward, but his hold for his tutor was as gentle as how a mother to child could be. The Decimo smiled, nodding to himself, cradling the hitman to his own warmth, ignoring the slight pain it sent to him when he felt the hitman's cold skin. He wouldn't cry. Not now.

He stood up, calmly he looked at his people, looking at him with pain, but the Decimo knew they knew that they wouldn't understand his pain. This was his tutor, his most trusted confidante, when no one else was there to confide, his tutor was there, saying the harshest things that anyone could muster, but there was always care that the Decimo was able to sense from those eyes. The eyes of someone who cared, not for who he would be coming to be, or who he was now, but because his tutor had the same thoughts about him.

Someone that could be called anytime, anywhere, always there; his most trusted ally.

He closed his eyes, breathed a one and two, and smiled. Relief flashing across his eyes, but was good as gone, he smirked, shocking all his men that were looking at him with pained eyes. He started, "…if my tutor could die like that…" he stopped, tongue rolling as he licked his lips. He continued.

"I would shoot myself."

The battle was over, Byakuran had been defeated, and the Decimo was more than happy to claim that he had done a good job. He stood calmly, reading the words that his younger self had written. Smiling, he tucked it in inside his pocket and jumped to the other side, and didn't even bat an eyelash when a bullet hole appeared on the tree across where he was just standing.

Sighing, he huffed, and looked at his tutor who was looking at him strangely. The Decimo's lips formed into a thin line as he looked at his tutor. He wasn't sure why, but those eyes looked different.

His tutor started walking towards him and the Decimo remained in place if he didn't want his head blown off by the hitman himself. It had always been like a tradition. He and his tutor's tradition that if anyone between them even made an indication of being scared, bullets should carve in his thick skull, or a punch would land on the hitman's face (the Decimo himself, for the past ten years hadn't even landed a fist on his tutor, not fair).

His tutor stepped forward, closer enough, but not close enough (everyone knew that the hitman had never allowed anyone to touch him freely). The action that happened next surprised the brunet himself.

Those eyes… he smiled. Those eyes were looking at him in pride. He had become the pride of his tutor. His tutor tapped his head, as if the sign of congratulating him even with that tiny body of his. And the Decimo was more than proud of himself. He had become his tutor's pride.

"You've done a great job, Dame-Tsuna," the Decimo almost pouted at the name, but refrained himself. "I really have taught you a lot of things," the glint on those eyes said something, and the Decimo backed away, knowing what would happen next.

Bang.

And the chase between him and his tutor had started. Although, now that he thought about it, his tutor hadn't bonked his head yet, and his bullets were not fast enough to his moves, and he hadn't even entered his Hyper Dying Will Mode. He smiled. His tutor felt it too. This was their way of reuniting. Reuniting to their most trusted confidante. Sawada Tsunayoshi smiled.

They really had come to an understanding.

-Finito-