Alone
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"We're born alone, we live alone, and we die alone. Only through our love and friendship can we create the illusion for the moment that we're not alone."
Orson Welles
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Sawada Tsunayoshi wholeheartedly believed in happiness. He believed that life could be kind, and that everyone deserves a happy ending.
Skepticism grappled onto him during his younger years, filled with torment from his school bullies, and he was starting to believe that happiness would never come for him.
Then Reborn came, and he was happy.
(but it was all a lie)
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Sawada Tsunayoshi was friendless, once. He was Dame-Tsuna, the pathetic boy who scored badly on every lesson and tripped on air on a daily basis. He lived with a kind mother, but one that was too oblivious and too accepting of the excuses he gave her, even when he was beaten black and blue, he didn't want his mother to worry about him even more.
He knew what the people of Namimori whispered about him, and he knew that even someone like his mother has her limits when he saw her weeping one night, clutching the photograph they took together with his father six years ago only to wear the same cheerful smile like she usually did the next day.
Tsuna wondered just how often his mother cried like that when she could expertly conceal her emotions as if she never broke down the night before.
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One day, a fedora-wearing baby together with his shape-shifting chameleon knocked on their front door, and everything changed.
Gone were the days he trudged home with shredded homework sheets and purple bruises dotting his arms. Gone also were the days when he lazed around in his room reading his favorite manga after he gave up on understanding his lessons. Now it was all replaced with explosions and strange yet painfully effective teaching methods, childish laugher and pink smoke and his loud 'HIIIEEEEEE's filling the air, lively chaos thrumming in the Sawada residence.
Now he had Yamamoto with his bright smiles and even brighter laughter, slinging his arm around his shoulders and Gokudera by his side with his dynamites, ridiculously overprotective and devoted, green eyes blazing as he bristled at his fellow guardian for daring to act so familiarly with the Juudaime, and Tsuna laughed nervously, meditating the two hastily.
Gokudera's eyes were sparkling with hero worship, scowl slowly morphing into a pleased smile and Yamamoto laughed again, slinging his arms around the two of them, ignoring Gokudera's splutters. Something warm was unfurling in his chest and his heart began to beat as he watched the two's antics.
He had friends now.
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When the Varia came to Namimori for the half-rings, Tsuna was completely stricken with fear. He was tempted to just hand the half-rings over to the assassins and denounce his position as the Vongola Decimo candidate so that they would stay away from his friends because he didn't want them to get hurt again.
Just like with Mukuro a few weeks ago, Yamamoto, Gokudera, Hibari, Ryohei-senpai, Bianchi, and Fuuta got badly injured, and a part of him just wanted to shrivel up and die because even as the boss, he allowed them to get hurt.
He was weak. Despite everything, he was still not strong enough to protect them.
But then he berated himself for being so stupid, because he realized that even if he gave them the half-rings, the Varia weren't the type of people who would leave them be. They were monsters in their own right, and they would not hesitate to strike them down with the threat Tsuna and his guardians posed for them. His throat clogged as he imagined the disappointment his friends would look at him with had he given up, and orange-tinted sepia locked with approving, hard obsidian, gaining a nod from his tutor.
Once again for his friends, he would take his stand.
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Reborn was a harsh teacher, he knew that. But this time, the baby pushed, pushed, and kept pushing, and Tsuna struggled and bled and did his best to meet his tutor's demands because he knew that Reborn was training him with the best he could give in such a short notice and against one of the most experienced assassin groups from the mafia no less.
So he kept his silence and pushed himself further again and again, meeting his tutor blow for blow and wrestled with the ungodly amount of exhaustion. Even if his body ached and complained, he couldn't afford to relax. They were running out of time, and he knew that his friends had been training too. He watched as Yamamoto skipped his baseball practice with a grim smile on his face and frowned at the new set of burn marks Gokudera wore to school. He watched as Collonello and Ryohei-senpai—Nii-san now, Nii-san—went on their daily jog together and felt guilt creeping into him because if it wasn't for him, they wouldn't have been involved with this in the first place. He would still stay as Dame-Tsuna, but they would be safe.
But that wasn't possible anymore, and there was no time for idle thoughts, Reborn chided him. He was brought back to the waterfall, and orange eyes blazed as his fingers formed the same sign for the umpteenth time this week, sky flames on his forehead flickering back and forth. Flames froze, and ice spread along in violent bursts, encasing the running water in crystalline frost.
His tutor demands, and Tsuna delivers.
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Indescribable joy filled his being after knowing that their victory against the Varia was secured, just mere moments before he collapsed after his fight. He was in a fairly good mood when he woke up in the hospital bed, and his mood continued to grow brighter as his guardians, friends, and mother came over. Everyone was injured, but safe and that was all that mattered.
When everyone started to trickle out of the room as they headed home, Chrome was the last to leave. With doe, lilac eyes she shyly approached him to request for his time, and he gave a soft smile as he beckoned her to come closer. The moment his female mist guardian stood beside his bed, he knew that the person standing there was no longer Chrome. Lilac eyes gleamed with amusement, and a smooth greeting was uttered.
"Good evening, Sawada Tsunayoshi." Mukuro greeted with a chuckle, giving a slight smirk towards him that seemed disturbing on Chrome's face.
"Mukuro-san," he nodded towards the other politely and wondered what the other came to him for. But this was Mukuro, and his intentions were anything but easy to read.
His mist guardian chuckled again, and he seemed to understand Tsuna's unspoken question. "I'm just here to give you a piece of advice, you could say."
He shot Mukuro a puzzled look as the other leaned down to his ear, still using Chrome's form, whispering. "I congratulate you for your victory today, Tsunayoshi. However, this is only the beginning. Do remember that happiness is but an illusion, and in the end, we would all be alone."
He looked at Mukuro warily, turning over his words in his head, trying to crack it with no avail. Why was he telling him this? "Why are you telling me this?" He echoed his thoughts.
Mukuro didn't anwer, giving him him an enigmatic smirk in return. Then he left, just like that, and Chrome was back in her body, bowing towards him before departing. He was left that night curling in the hospital bed quietly, still wondering why Mukuro chose to impart those words to him, head filled with unanswered questions before falling into an uneasy sleep.
(and the truth hurts much, much more)
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That night, Tsuna dreamt.
He was standing on the edge of a precipice. Harsh, dry winds whipped through his hair, sending short, gravity-defying strands into a messier fashion. His throat was parched, and he swallowed as he realized how humid it was in the landscape.
But he was not alone.
Behind him, exuberant laughter spread through the valley, brown eyes cool and twinkling with mirth. Yamamoto stood beside a grinning Gokudera, and suddenly the excruciating heat felt more bearable.
Next to them, Ryohei waved at him with vigor, yelling out his trademark phrase with a smirking Reborn perched on his shoulder. Chrome and Mukuro stood side-to-side in the distance, Chrome shyly smiling at him with a squirming Lambo on her arms, eating some grape candies. Hibari stood even further, his disciplinary committee jacket whipping in the wind, glaring at the small crowd the group was making.
They were all here.
Tsuna found that he didn't mind the heat anymore.
Smiling, he went to take a step towards them when a soft, scratching sound of boots colliding with dry earth resounded. He whipped around in alarm, and his vision instantly zoomed onto a cloaked man standing on the edge of a valley across their own, a chasm of nothingness between them.
The unknown man's facial features were completely shadowed by his dirt-covered, tattered gray cloak's hood, but he was facing towards them. He was watching them, he thought, and felt a strand of paranoia curling in his chest. Something about this man made him uneasy.
Then the man lifted his hood, showing dark, dark, defeated orange eyes staring back at him and suddenly, he was submerged in ice.
Tsuna woke up.
He quickly lost any recollections of his dream in his morning scramble for school, together with the fact that his Hyper Intuition was screaming at him during his sleep.
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Then, tragedy struck, taking all of them by surprise.
It started innocently enough. Lambo threw another tantrum, and Tsuna watched as the Ten Year Bazooka went flying towards his tutor. He was unconcerned at the time, thinking that Reborn would dodge it, like all the other times he did. But his Hyper Intuition flared, and Reborn spoke without any inflection in his voice, except Tsuna knew him well enough to be aware that he was on high alert.
"What's this? I can't move."
A large explosion of pink smoke followed his words, and Reborn was gone.
Tsuna gulped, tugging Gokudera and Yamamoto back to his house, nervously stating that Reborn was probably playing a prank on them. Yamamoto looked unsure at first, but then his eyes lightened and he simply laughed it off while Gokudera still looked at him with the same high regards, never questioning, never disobeying his words, making him wonder just how easily would Gokudera throw away his life for his sake, and he bit back the frustration and pain building in his chest because it was all another grim thought after another.
It has been fifteen minutes, and there was no sign of his tutor.
xxxx
Days passed, and Reborn was nowhere to be seen.
It wasn't until the time Tsuna himself was the one hit by the bazooka did he know just what kind of situation they were being put into.
To say that the future was bleak is an understatement. It was devastating.
His parents were MIA, Yamamoto's dad was murdered, Nono was nowhere to be found, the Arcobaleno were slaughtered by the Millefiore, and they—the Vongola, he finalized with despair, were being hunted like animals, their numbers slowly eradicating like dead flies.
And his future self died, in order to make sure that his plan would run smoothly.
His plan. With what costs? He thought. Just how pitiful was his future self to send over a group of fourteen-year-olds to fight his battle? Maybe he was being irrational, maybe he was angry, but despite them saying that they were the Vongola's last and only hope, he wasn't appeased. He didn't care. His future self was a coward to leave his famiglia behind and instead dumping them to face this dying future.
All he cared was for his friends to be safe.
But he couldn't leave them either. He saw the same sort of despair behind future Gokudera's and future Nii-san's eyes with an almost wild fear upon seeing them, and he knew they were extremely worried about their safety ;perhaps also damaged by the blow of his future self's death.
He couldn't leave them.
So even when he dreaded their next training, Tsuna followed future Hibari towards their underground training area without hesitation, uncaring of the injuries he would sport afterwards.
His friends were more important.
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Sawada Tsunayoshi used to wholeheartedly believe in happiness. He once naively believed that life could be kind, and that everyone deserves a happy ending.
But not anymore.
Maybe Mukuro was right, he thought, bile rising in his throat as he stared at the charred ground where Byakuran stood seconds ago. Cheers of triumph and relief rose around him, though some were still grieving—a part of him still did—over the loss of Yuni and Gamma, but he couldn't take his eyes off the scorched piece of earth.
The lack of the smell of burning flesh due to the intensity of his sky flames—or the lack of remains at all, if anything, just made it all the more sickening to him.
Maybe Mukuro was right, he thought again as he plastered a weak smile on his face upon facing his friends and his famiglia, maybe happiness is just an illusion.
(he was starting to see it)
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He dreamt again, just the night before they were sent back to the past.
The setting of this particular dream strangely gave him the feeling of déjà vu, with dry desert winds whipping his hair and him standing before a cliff. Recollection of a similar dream briefly flashed through his mind
But this time, there was no one by his side.
He looked forward, and his heart dropped.
Gokudera, Yamamoto, Reborn, Nii-san, everyone… They were on the cliff across from his, separated by the dark chasm that seemed to expand before his very eyes. He heard the flap of fabric behind him, and his heart stopped as he resigned himself to his position.
Dusty gray hood shadowed his face, and he opened his defeated orange eyes to stare at the distance.
He was now the man in the gray cloak, separated from the ones he loved the most.
Alone.
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Tsuna woke up feeling drained the next morning.
Strange, he mused, wasn't sleep supposed to make him feel better? Apparently not, he found out as he shuffled towards the dining room for his last meal in the future. He took a seat between Gokudera and Yamamoto, watching everyone chatters and laugh and joke with each other, palpable relief apparent in everyone's faces. The tension that had been hanging on their neck like a condemning noose was gone, and everyone was celebrating.
Except him.
Instead of relief, nauseating revulsion rolled around his stomach as everyone around him now looked at him with an expectant face, an almost reverent gratitude shining in their eyes. You did it, their eyes seemed to say; you saved us.
We are proud of you, Tsuna.
Had it been any other time, he would've been elated. Relieved because he was acknowledged, he was able to protect them, and also proud of himself because he had succeeded. But at the moment, all he could remember was Byakuran's agonized screams and the smear of crisp black on brown earth.
It was as if Byakuran had never existed.
He pushed his untouched breakfast away.
Slipping out of the dining room in the middle of the liveliness with ease, he stealthily managed to exit the secret headquarters, evading the security camera scattered all over the place with the help of his Hyper Intuition. His body, his mind, and his heart still ached, but he forced himself to go on despite his lethargy. Clutching a notebook and a pen in his hands, he ran towards the resting place of his future self.
Tsuna kneeled in front of the black, lacquered coffin, scribbling something on his notebook before staring at the coffin with nearly hollow eyes, leaving the notebook open on top of the coffin.
'The fight within future self is over.
The curtain is closed.'
Only Sawada Tsunayoshi would understand the bitterness unsaid behind those words.
The curtain was closed by us.
Not you.
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Going back home was strangely bittersweet.
On one hand, he was glad that his parents were safe and the future was secured. On the other hand, he saw a sliver of darkness appearing in his guardians' eyes, even Lambo's, and the sight of them made him feel like he did an awful job of protecting them.
And it hurt. It hurt more than the haunting scream of his old nemesis, or the non-existent blood on his hands.
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Years passed with numerous trials thrown their way. But they never gave up, never backed down, fighting with everything they had. They defeated Daemon, rebuilt an old friendship with the Shimon famiglia, and succeeded in breaking the Arcobaleno curse.
Seeing Byakuran was a bit jarring, though.
Tsuna was quite proud to achieve all that with his friends and famiglia. He was content. Just for a moment, he could once again pretend that happiness was real, as long as his friends were standing by his side.
The knowing glint in Mukuro's eyes, however, said otherwise. And he was right again.
When he turned seventeen, both Gokudera and Yamamoto respectively found the love of their life. It was Yamamoto who first found his, a sweet, energetic girl from the school's tennis club. He had met her a few times, and he knew that they were perfect for each other.
Gokudera, on the other hand, had known Haru a long time, but it was around then when the two confessed their feelings for each other in front of him, and Tsuna found himself on the receiving end of a pair of bursting apologies, one from Haru who comically cried, saying that her heart has fallen out of love for Tsuna-san and instead chose the idiotic bomber, another from Gokudera prostrated himself in front of him countless times, apologizing for falling in love with someone before his Jyuudaime did. Tsuna just waved them off and gave the two his blessings.
He thought he must be happy for them, but something inside him traitorously whispered that his first friends were leaving him.
Sometimes, he couldn't help but think that it was true.
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He could feel it. The bonds between him and his friends were loosening.
Sometimes he thought he was looking too much into it, but he was certain now. Or maybe he was deluding himself; maybe he didn't want to acknowledge the fact that they were growing further and further away from each other.
He cradled his head in his arms, sighing desolately. A choked sob made its way past his throat, and before he knew it, he was breaking down on his office table.
Pathetic, he thought as he closed his eyes, ignoring the wetness trailing down his face. It was normal, he told himself, both Gokudera and Yamamoto were married now. Of course they wouldn't spend as much time as they did with him when they were still in middle school.
But how long would they stay until the Mafia poses too much threat to their family? The same traitorous, torturous voice pointed out. They would leave then. It's only a matter of time.
Shut up, shut up, shut up! He internally chanted at the voice, his hands going up to his head, grasping his brown hair in vice grips.
A series of knocks at the door interrupted him. "Dame-Tsuna, who are you talking to?"
It was Reborn. He must've spoken out loud.
He made sure that his breaths were stable before replying. "It's fine, Reborn. I was just muttering some things to myself." Technically, he wasn't lying.
He thought his tutor was going to leave him alone until he spoke again. "Don't give me that bullshit, Tsuna. I know."
Tsuna froze. "What do you mean, Reborn?" He internally cursed when he caught a tremor in his voice.
"Did you really think that you can hide anything from me, Tsuna?" He stayed silent. "You should know better, idiota."
He kept his silence for a few moments.
"How do you cope with it, Reborn?" He finally asked, uncaring of the roughness in his voice.
His tutor's voice was uncharacteristically soft when he answered. "I never did."
There was nothing else to be said.
Maybe, now he understood why his future self was able to let himself be killed, even going as far to sacrifice children to fight for his cause.
(he is alone too in the end)
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Fin
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AN: It's been a while readers! I'm so sorry for not updating anything in months, but, well, school happened. And isn't it ironic that I started writing again smack dab in the middle of my semester exams? .-.
Anyway, this oneshot unearthed itself from a rampant plot bunny, as usual... If you need any clarifications, just ask, kay? This story is kinda vague.
Btw, don't forget to review. I might be motivated to update my other fics faster with them. :3