Disclaimer: i do not own the awesome KHR... at all, unfortunately. :(

ANYWAY, this is pretty much a ... pilot chapter... or basically, a preface. I have an idea for this plot, but it has yet to take flight..so i decided to post this small part up to see if there's any interest in this story ^^ so yes, do review! if there's no interest in this story :( well i guess it doesn't matter.

Basically, this is another take on the Representative War. I know that arc isn't finished yet... but well... it isn'texactly the representative war, since there is no representative battles... okay, I'm confusing myself. JUST sit back and enjoy, and if you were confused by the above statement... well, just ignore it. ^^ OKAY so i'll end my rambling. I hope you enjoy this little idea of mine ~~ ^^

...

Preface; Cry for Help

"Death must be so beautiful. It's simply letting yourself go with the wind, to follow the turn and curve of every tide; Soar with the birds, get washed by the ocean blues – feel everything, yet nothing is there at all. You exist in every moment, but in reality, you're just a figment of imagination. You live as though you're alive, but ultimately you're not. Doesn't that mean that you don't get hurt, you don't feel pain? That even though your joy and happiness may be false, all the negativity that comes with it is too?

But if I had a choice, I wouldn't choose death. Even if choosing death means to be with my friends again, I won't choose it. Death is beautiful – serene, calm, untouchable. But by living, I can save them. I will save them all." He looks up at the sky, his arms stretched up high, the sun nestling in the palm of his hands. A trickle of rain washes the dirt from his spiky brown hair, slides along the side of his face past the slight curvature of his lips… It was all a dream. He knew it as such – a vision, perhaps, by the Vongola hyper-intuition. He would save them. All of them – he wasn't going to fail twice.

...

"NO!" A blood-curdling scream, plea, burst out of his lips, scorched his throat as he yelled, his brown orbs stricken with horror. His vision was stained red – deep, crimson, red. Scarlet overflowed the room; not a single corner went unscathed. A sea of voices, of screeches, echoed in his ears, reverberated in his head, throbbed his heart painfully; it grasped at him from every direction, pulling him in, dragging him, engulfing him in the red sea. He couldn't think – wouldn't – couldn't possible endure anymore. He had mistaken it all for a dream. Wasn't it a dream? It should've been a dream! How could it not have been a dream?

Bodies; scattered, bloodied, barely recognizable – he was drowning in them. He could barely breathe; could barely breathe. His face was tear-sodden; his fists clenched tightly, an empty bottle of pills fell from his limp fingers. His gloves, burnt to a crisp, lay on the ground in pieces. A deep gash ran from the side of his neck all the way down his lower torso, the wound dripping blood everywhere, his crisp black suit stained with blood – everything was stained, stained with blood, with guilt, with failure. He stumbled on his feet, the feeling of vertigo overwhelming him. His world crashed around him – big pieces crushed down on him, all painted a deep red. Everything was under fire; smoke burnt his eyes, choked his lungs, fogged up his thinking, his mind, his everything -as the building fell down around him, his world screamed, all falling around him, all crashing to their imminent deaths; his family, the fallen comrades, reached out to him from beneath the debris, but he couldn't move, his feet were stuck to the building… yet his friends, they couldn't let go of him, and he watched as he failed to save his family again, as their faces stared up at him, lifeless, all gone, how could he take it all…?

And so he screamed. He screamed until his throat burnt, his eyes stung with tears, his voice screaming away the madness, the desperation, hoping, begging, for his world to be right again – the building wouldn't stop raining down on him, smashing him, all that he had built in his world, in his life, all that was precious, all falling down upon him, sinking him down further and further…

...

"GOKUDERA!"

"10TH! Are you alright?"

"How's everyone?"

"What are you talking about, 10th? Everyone's alright. What happened? You seem to have had a nightmare."

"A-Ah, so it was only a nightmare… thank God… it feels like I've had it for quite long…"

"Are you okay, 10th? D-Do you want to rest? Eat? Anything..?"

"It's okay, Gokudera. If it was a nightmare, it's all okay."

...

"P-Please…"

"I – will s-save you – Lambo never breaks a promise!"

"D-d-don't do this to me…"

"He's right! We'll protect you! It doesn't matter how many of these hooded guys there are – we'll defeat them all! Go, quick!"

"I can't!"

"10th, I don't want to agree with them, but they're right! You have to go!"

"But…"

"Tsuna, go, you know you need to."

"I don't want to go through this again!"

"What are you talking about?"

"I-I-I don't know… this happened before…"

"What? Is it your hyper-intuition?"

And he ran away. He ran, to seek answers; he knew deep down he had to do this, to get away, to burn everything away… it was in his gut, as though he had done it all before.

How could he just run away, though?

But something propelled him forward, as though it was action he had already done before, an action he'd do again, but…

He didn't want to lose them the third time.

...

"Dreams… feel real when we're in them."

"It's only when we wake up that we realize that something was actually strange."

/

"It's time to get up!"

He jolted awake from his sleep abruptly, a hammer just an inch away from his face. He lay down there, breathing hard, his dark chocolate eyes haunted. His entire forehead was cased in a thin layer of sweat, his fingers pale, his lips trembling… what was that all about?

"Tsuna, what happened?" His tutor, the Arcobaleno Reborn, asked as his hammer changed back into a chameleon. When asleep, Tsuna had been completely still, motionless – his face was peaceful, calm, even… almost too calm. And now, awake, Tsuna looked a complete wreck. There was something off about this situation, but Reborn didn't know what.

"I-I…" Tsuna stammered, but he couldn't get a word out. Whatever had happened in that dream, it had been washed clean from his memories, as though something had forcefully flushed it out. All that was left was an empty shell, the remnants of despair, and the queer feeling that a part of him was missing. "I don't know. I really don't know, Reborn," He shook his head, trying to shake off that weird feeling. "I feel like I'm missing something."

Reborn felt unsettled – extremely unsettled, in fact. He still couldn't pinpoint the weirdness, which was all the more weird, because Reborn always knew exactly what made him feel uncomfortable about a situation.

"It's the fourth." Tsuna suddenly muttered. Reborn fixed his stare at Tsuna, but he didn't seem to realize what he said. Tsuna shook his head again.

"This feels weird." Tsuna said, frowning slightly. The Arcobaleno pursed his lips, frowning.

Soon, every single weird feeling was washed out of Tsuna, leaving behind in its wake hollowness, one that can't be filled no matter how much Tsuna tried to recall.

Dreams were never meant to be remembered.

They were meant to be fulfilled.

...

Okayy how did you find it so far? Hm... it was supposed to be quite sad, i wonder if i managed to achieve that effect. Please please please review, but just a warning beforehand that IF this DOES garner interest, i probably can't update it in a while. OKAY i should seriously stop rambling. REVIEWWW! ^^ (P.S the format is really annoying me... gahh never mind)