Disclaimer: KHR belongs to Amano Akira.

As the sky was crying

Yamamoto gazed through the rain-battered window glass, letting his eyes wander on the blurry silhouettes passing by and probably drenched by the pouring rain. Leaning against the edge, he sighed. If someone had entered his room at that moment, they wouldn't have recognized the usually cheerful and smiling Takeshi Yamamoto in that sitting figure.

The Rain Guardian wasn't particularly sad, he was simply pondering. Whenever it rained, his thoughts would drift towards the same subject – or rather, person. Whenever it rained, he couldn't help but think the veil of falling water was very similar to a cascade of bright, colourless hair. Whenever it rained, a faint smile would grace his lips and a single word would come to his mind: Squalo.

He remembered hearing someone say that Squalo didn't match his element at all, for obvious reasons: Squalo wasn't quiet, his presence wasn't soothing and as much as water symbolized life, Squalo was best at offering death. But Yamamoto disagreed completely. No element could have suited Squalo better than rain. Unreachable, elusive like the rain drops, plunging Yamamoto's world into melancholy the same way rain plunged the world into sadness, cold, biting, unforgiving. Squalo embodied every single characteristic of the downpour outside.

The room was cold, and Yamamoto shivered. Sometimes, he regretted the words he had told the older swordsman not so long ago. The memory of that day was still vivid in his mind, and thinking about it hurt him more than what he was willing to show.

Three months ago

Squalo came to Japan once again, without informing anyone, as usual. His first destination? The Yamamoto household, naturally.

Of course Yamamoto was intrigued when his father came to his room to tell him a guest was asking for him. Of course the teen's face brightened when he saw who was standing by the door with a scowl on his face. Of course they started sparring – was there any other reason for Squalo to travel all the way there from Italy? Of course both of them ended up sweating, panting and exhausted.

And that's when Yamamoto made the mistake of his life. While Squalo was pacing in the room to take back his breath, the younger male was lying on the floor.

"Do you want to stay over tonight, Squalo?" he asked innocently.

"Hell no. I'm going back to our Japanese base." The answer was immediate.

"Why? There's plenty of room here, and my father cooks really well, you know."

"Who gives a damn about your father's cooking?"

"But I'd be really happy if you stayed here."

"I'd beat the crap out of you if I stayed here."

Yamamoto laughed.

"I'm already beaten up. A bit more won't change much."

"I don't want to be charged with your murder." Squalo replied humourlessly as he glared at the teen who was lying at his feet, eyes closed.

"Please stay." was Yamamoto's only answer. Squalo frowned at the strange tone.

"Why the hell do you want me to stay that much?"

But Yamamoto remained silent. His eyelids opened.

Metallic eyes met chocolate ones.

And though Squalo wasn't an expert in that area, the answer he read in those dark pupils gazing at him was clear enough for his face to harden suddenly.

"Stupid kid." he snapped dryly. "Think twice before you dare make that kind of suggestions again."

Without waiting for an answer which never came, the Varia of Rain strode out and the last thing Yamamoto saw of him was the long hair swaying gracefully at each step.

Yamamoto sighed again. Since that day, there had been no news from Squalo. Not that it surprised him, but it didn't mean there wasn't a lump in his throat whenever he thought of the long-haired swordsman. So far, he had always managed to keep a straight face in front of his friends, especially Tsuna whom he knew that he was particularly sensitive to the others' mood, and no one had been able to notice any change in his behaviour.

Only a very subtle eye could have discerned that he didn't put the same passion while playing baseball as he used to, that his gestures more less enthusiastic, his smiles not as broad as before, and that the small sparkle in his eyes was no more. However, there weren't many people who possessed such an ability, even among Yamamoto's relatives. Except his tutor, maybe.

The worst was that the teen himself was convinced that everything was normal, and he truly believed that there was absolutely no reason for him to be sad after Squalo's departure. They were bound to meet again some time or another, given their respective duties as a Guardian and member of the Varia.

Outside, the sky had darkened already, and the faint glint of the pale moon was casting a very dim light in his room. How long had Yamamoto been sitting there, plunged in the half-light and gazing through the window? An hour, maybe two. He had no idea. He glanced quickly at his watch which indicated 9.37 pm. It wasn't that late.

Yamamoto liked rain. Some would say it was normal since it was his element, yet the actual reason for his liking rain weren't known by any but him. Some people liked the sound of the thousands drops falling on the earth, some others liked the specific scent of the air washed by the flood, some others liked the refreshing sensation it provided when the weather was hot.

However, the reason was easier for Yamamoto. If he liked rain, it was because it reminded him of Squalo.

That was all.

Pretty simplistic, wasn't it? Yet behind that simple statement was hidden something slightly more complicated; being reminded of Squalo brought along various feelings that ranged from happiness to regret. How a single person could stir such contradictory feelings in him, Yamamoto had no idea; but the facts were there and he wasn't the kind of person to hide from them.

The clock soon announced 10 pm. Outside, the streets were still being washed by the continuous rain and his window was occasionally splattered with small drops, giving the impression of listening to a crackling fire. The Rain Guardian stretched his arms and yawned; he had school the day after and it was wiser for him not to go sleep too late.

But as he stood up and ruffled his hair, an idea flashed through his mind. He wanted to contact Squalo somehow, or at least let him know that he still existed, and the best way to reach him was to ask Reborn. His instincts were telling him that he'd have little or no chance to get a direct contact with the Varia, but a letter should make the deal.

He sat at his desk and switched on the lamp. A pen in one hand, a paper lying under his other hand, he started thinking it over.

In a matter of second, the letter ended up as a crumpled ball of paper and was thrown in the bin without more ceremony.

The long-haired man snorted in disdain. So the brat still hadn't given up, huh? If there was something Squalo had learnt about Yamamoto during their battle for the rings, it was that the kid was damn stubborn. The letter was short – at least, the brat knew that Squalo hated long and boring stuff – and it was obvious that the few words written on it had been carefully chosen. Any other person who'd have read them wouldn't have suspected anything, but Squalo wasn't any other person, and the memory of the longing he had read in those dark eyes gave the subtle words their full meaning.

Dear Squalo,

I guess everything's fine for you. On my side, it seems my skills have rusted a bit since I don't have anyone to spar with. During my trip to the future, you were my tutor and for that I can't thank you enough. I wish you could keep tutoring me in the present time, but I understand that you must be quite busy in Italy.

Sincerely,

T. Yamamoto

Squalo ran gloved fingers in his long hair and made an exasperated noise. You're an annoyance.

He glanced outside, through the large windows of the mansion. The panes were veiled by a sheet of rain.

"See you tomorrow, Tsuna, Gokudera!" Yamamoto waved at his friends as they exited the school.

"See you!" the former replied.

"Che." the latter merely shrugged as usual, which made Yamamoto laugh.

On his way home, the teen raised his eyes and a faint smile graced his lips. Grey clouds were gathering above his head, slowly masking the sun rays and harbingers of his favourite element.

Had Squalo received the letter? Had he even deigned to read it? Yamamoto had spent a whole hour writing those few lines, knowing that the Varia of Rain wouldn't even look at it if it was too long and that he couldn't afford to write down his feelings bluntly if he wanted to have a chance to get a reply. However, two weeks had passed and the third one was about to end, and there was still no sign of life from Squalo.

A hint of sadness tainted his smile at the thought. Of course it was futile to expect an answer from the older swordsman, yet optimism had always been a part of Yamamoto and at least, bearing some hopes gave him a reason to wait.

He blinked as a first drop landed at the corner of his eyes, then another. I should hurry up home.He started running, his bag over his head as the downpour began to come pelting down on him. By the time he reached his house, his clothes were drenched and dripping on the doorstep. Dad's not gonna be happy with me soaking the floor.He hurried inside and went directly to the bathroom to rid himself of his clothes and grab a towel.

While drying his hair, the teen headed for his room and as he opened the door, the first thing that caught his attention was the rectangle of paper on his desk. A letter.

For some reason, his heart raced but then he shook his head. The sender could be anyone, and it was most likely some of his relatives. Yet, as he walked near the desk and saw the unfamiliar stamps on the envelope, his hopes rose. The said envelope was literally torn into two, and Yamamoto's heart failed a beat as he took the small piece of paper between his fingers and unfolded it carefully. Yamamoto had never seen Squalo's writing style, but the rough and sharp traits of black ink didn't leave any doubt as for who the sender was.

Useless kid.

That was all. At that moment, it was hard to tell whether Yamamoto's face was reflecting happiness or disappointment. Probably both at the same time.

Two words. Only two words, but those were more than nothing, Yamamoto decided. He folded the piece of paper again with a sigh. As his lips parted, a single word escaped by itself:

"Squalo…"

The day after wasn't better as far as weather was concerned. Well, that was the opinion of most people. For Yamamoto, it was the best weather possible. Dull sky, dark clouds loaded with water that seemed to pour down endlessly, a silent scenery except for the regular melody of drops hitting the ground, grey, grey and more grey.

Squalo. Pure white cascade of hair mixing with the blackest coat of ebony leather. Grey. Yamamoto started wondering if the heavens weren't doing it on purpose, constantly reminding him of Squalo like that. The teen turned his eyes from the window of the classroom to his pencil-case. A small, folded square of paper was lying inside and Yamamoto smiled again, as he did whenever his eyes met with that mere piece of paper.

Useless kid.

Yeah, right. Yamamoto could figure perfectly how Squalo's face must have been as he wrote down those words and he chuckled silently. Not silently enough, for Gokudera glared at him and motioned him to shut up.

Not good. He was getting distracted from his class. Yamamoto slapped himself mentally and forced his attention to focus on what the teacher was writing on the blackboard. However, the faint splattering sound on the window next to him kept murmuring at his ear the name of a certain Varia of Rain.

"I didn't understand anything, as usual." Tsuna sighed heavily.

"I'll explain to you, 10th!" Gokudera offered immediately, not noticing the look of horror in the smaller boy's eyes nor the obvious embarrassment as he replied:

"Aah… Thanks, Gokudera-kun, but I don't want to bother you with that…"

"It's an honour to be able to help you in any way!" Gokudera insisted, to Tsuna's utmost despair.

Yamamoto laughed, surprising one and upsetting the other.

"What's so funny, baseball freak?" the Storm Guardian asked threateningly.

" Nothing, nothing!" Yamamoto replied as his laughter calmed down to chuckles. How could Gokudera not see that Tsuna was more than reluctant to receive lessons from him was beyond him.

On the outside, people tended to mistake Yamamoto for a simple-minded, cheerful boy; however, the truth was that he actually possessed a natural ability to read through others' expressions and gestures better than any other normal person. Nevertheless, it wasn't in his habits to interfere with other people's business, therefore he usually chose to remain silent and observe.

"Anyway, let's go back while it's stopped raining." Gokudera said grumpily.

"Yes, you're right. Let's go." Tsuna nodded, then turned back to Yamamoto who hadn't moved from his spot. "Yamamoto? You're coming?"

"I think I forgot something in the classroom, go ahead and don't wait for me." the latter replied with his usual smile.

As expected, it was enough to convince the other two who nodded and left. Yamamoto stood there during several seconds, trying to understand why he had acted like that before deciding that it was a mere impulse. A sudden desire filled him; he wanted to see the sky from a place where he wouldn't be disturbed, from a place where he'd be closer to that firmament. His face lit up as he thought of the perfect place and a new chuckle escaped his lips.

He just hoped that Hibari wouldn't come there.

To his relief, the school's roof was desert. Several large pools of water were scattered on the ground, and already, small drops had started creating new ones all around. By now, Yamamoto was used to the rain falling on him, raising goose bumps on his tanned skin and sending chills throughout his body. He was probably going to catch a cold, but it was the least of his concerns. The mere feeling of the cold rain on him was so similar to the coldness that had seized him when Squalo had left his house with those harsh words as sole goodbye.

'Think twice before you dare make that kind of suggestions again.'

Was it so hard to believe that despite his fifteen years old, Yamamoto was no more a child? It wasn't a mere whim that had made him ask for Squalo to stay over, why couldn't the older swordsman understand that? Even the future Squalo had considered him an adult, maybe not experienced enough, but still. However, Yamamoto was very well aware that stubbornness was one of Squalo's main traits, as well as arrogance, haughtiness and pride. And strangely enough, it was all those traits that had attracted Yamamoto, for they were everything he didn't possess.

He closed his eyes, feeling the water trail on his neck and down his chest inside his shirt. He imagined Squalo's fingers following those same trails and figured that the touch would feel as icy as raindrops. Speaking of warmth while speaking of Squalo was simply impossible, and yet, Yamamoto didn't mind. While most people would have found it odd to prefer coldness, Yamamoto liked the piercing sensation gnawing at him until his body was left insensitive, incapable of telling whether his body was still warm or not.

Minutes passed. The rain wasn't heavy, but by now there wasn't a single spot on the Rain Guardian that could claim being dry. He didn't move. What was he waiting for? He himself wasn't able to tell. He just waited, and waited, until the rain finally stopped.

And then, a voice rose in the air, startling him:

"Voooooiiiiiii! Stupid kid! Wanna drench yourself to death?"

Yamamoto turned round immediately, and time froze for a second. A few steps away from him, his tutor was staring at him. Those long strands of white hair floating behind him, the sharp blade by his side, the typical scowl that never left his face and those icy pupils staring at him and piercing him like daggers, Yamamoto recognized them all.

"Squalo…" he murmured, the name almost inaudible.

"Damn right. I came to see how bad your skills degraded, but I didn't expect to find an idiot longing after pneumonia." the Varia of Rain said with obvious disdain.

Naturally, Yamamoto laughed.

"I simply like rain." he said absent-mindedly. "Because it reminds me of you." he added, his grin broadening.

"Silly brat, don't start spouting nonsense again!" Squalo snapped as he closed the distance between them and grabbed the teen by the collar. "You're just a damn kid who doesn't even know what he's asking for!"

Yamamoto looked away and smiled sadly.

"Unfortunately, I do know. But I understand that you don't believe me. I'm just a kid, after all."

"Damn right." Squalo replied as he released Yamamoto. "Enough. I saw what I came here to see, and I have to say you disappoint me beyond my expectations." he added, heading for the door and ignoring the hurt on Yamamoto's face.

However, as he grabbed the handle, a voice stopped him:

"Squalo! Please wait." The boy had caught up to him.

"What?" Squalo asked dryly.

"… Just once." Yamamoto said in a low voice.

"What?" the other man repeated, slightly intrigued.

"Just once, and I'll never bother you again."

Squalo turned round slowly, and his eyes were set ablaze with repressed fury. Still, Yamamoto didn't flinch. He had gone too far to even think of stepping back, and Squalo's next answer was going to seal his life definitely.

What he didn't expect, though, was to find himself suddenly pinned against the door by a very enraged Squalo, and the next words he spoke were like poison in Yamamoto's veins:

" Let me tell you this, brainless kid. Once I give it to you, there's no fucking way you won't ask for more. Just once, and I'll never bother you again? Don't give me that crap. Now think carefully about it again and dare tell me you want it."

Squalo's infuriated eyes were locked on Yamamoto's widened ones and the intimidating aura emanating from him would have force more than one to flee.

And yet, Yamamoto didn't flee. His mouth opened and the words came out by themselves:

"I want it."

At that moment, Squalo's last remain of control shattered to pieces and his face darkened.

"You asked for it." were his last words before he smashed his lips against Yamamoto's, claiming them forcefully and literally devouring the puzzled boy. He felt a tongue invading his mouth, rubbing against his palate and twirling around his own tongue in a fierce, one-sided battle. In a normal duel of swords, Yamamoto usually fared pretty well against Squalo; yet, right now, he wasn't given the slightest chance. It was only then that he understood what it meant to be a defenceless lamb facing a starving wolf, except that the animal he was facing right now wasn't a wolf, but a shark.

He tried to gasp for air, but it only gave Squalo the opportunity to shove his tongue even deeper, muffling all the sounds Yamamoto could emit and reducing them to small whimpers. Without any restraint, Squalo ate him with more greed than the wildest of beasts, rendering any resistance futile and laughable.

And yet, Yamamoto couldn't ask for more, for that was how he had always imagined it to be without ever dreaming to experience it for real; it was Squalo he was dealing with after all. Now he was able to tell the huge gap that dwelled between a dream and reality. In his dreams, never had he felt such a surge of warmth coming from nowhere and setting his cheeks on fire, nor was he given the opportunity to feel the surprisingly softness of Squalo's hair as he entangled his fingers in the long mane, nor could he discover the coffee-tinted taste of the man who was assaulting him right now.

Yamamoto's eyes snapped open as he felt a hand reaching between his legs and grabbing his crotch firmly, but Squalo's lips on his prevented him from gasping at the touch. Now it seemed to him that he was nothing more but a mere prey for Squalo, a prey which could do nothing but submit to everything the Varia of Rain was inflicting upon him.

Darts of fire shot him in the stomach as Squalo rubbed the palm of his gloved hand against Yamamoto's sensitive spot, and as they finally broke the kiss, a loud gasp filled the air:

"Squalo!"

But the long-haired swordsman didn't give him time to think any further as his teeth sank into the tanned neck and he started sucking on the rain-covered skin greedily. Yamamoto winced in pain, his left arm wrapped itself tightly around Squalo's waist – his right wrist being pinned by Squalo against the door – , his breathing started getting irregular and he only wished for Squalo to make him lose his mind a bit more.

He could feel Squalo's hips grinding against his, and then, instead of his hand, it was a knee that pressed against his awakening arousal, forcing his legs to part. Distracted by the sudden rush of unknown pleasure, he barely noticed Squalo licking away all the rain drops on his neck, leaving warm trails of saliva instead. The older swordsman's mouth then moved again on Yamamoto's lips and licked them, and bit them and kissed them with a mad passion that could only be belong to the Varia of Rain.

As they parted again, Squalo targeted Yamamoto's neck again while his right hand swiftly undid the boy's pants and slipped inside with no other formality, earning a long hiss from the latter who was struggling between the pain of his neck being devoured and the delight of having his lower parts stimulated. The cold leather on his warm skin made him shudder but didn't surprise him. The strokes were neither slow nor gentle, and the burst of pleasure that shook Yamamoto at the rough treatment almost made him fall on the ground as his legs were unable to support him any longer. Yet, Squalo forced him to remain standing by pressing his own body against Yamamoto's and continued his ministrations on the teen's throbbing member, quickly bringing him on the verge of release.

It took half a minute for Yamamoto to come in Squalo's hand, and part of the warm liquid trailed down his thighs, making him blush even more. Satisfied, Squalo smirked but his hand remained inside nonetheless.

" Don't think I'm done with you, stupid kid. You feel this?" he asked harshly as he pressed his own arousal against Yamamoto. The large bulge the latter felt made him gulp. "Well it's your damn fault, and you're going to take care of the consequences. Got it?"

"I… did say… that I… want it…" Yamamoto replied between two pants. "I… want you…"

The next second, his lips were sealed again by Squalo who fed on him voraciously while his semen-covered hand – which was still in Yamamoto's pants – started sliding to another of the teen's intimate areas.

"Squa-" Yamamoto arched his back when the cold and semen-slicked leather touched his entrance and forced its way in, rousing in him a turmoil of sensations that had yet to unfold and bloom under Squalo's care. There was no surprise though; again, Yamamoto wasn't stupid and he knew very well the implications of his words. However, it didn't mean that he actually knew how much it could be hurtful at first, and despite his thorough training as a swordsman, there was no way he could get used to the pain that shot up his spine as Squalo's fingers violated him with no kindness.

Silent hiccups filled the humid air every time the Varia of Rain pushed his fingers inside and rubbed against Yamamoto's inner walls; the teen was well aware that Squalo would despise him even more if he were to see tears in his eyes, that's why Yamamoto made every effort to bear with the pain while thinking that it wasn't that bad since that same pain was dealt by no other than the one man he longed after.

And somehow, as he was being torn apart, it seemed to him that Squalo's bites on his neck had turned into kisses, that the way the cold mouth trailed on his skin was softer, and even as their lips met, the attacks weren't as demanding as before. For a second, Yamamoto started believing that his tutor could be gentle when he wanted to; however, a particularly rough thrust in him made him drop the idea quickly. Gentleness didn't – couldn't – suit the beast that was Superbi Squalo.

Hectic pants were coming out from the Rain Guardian's mouth, his arms wrapped tightly around Squalo's neck, clutching at him desperately in order not to collapse on the ground while gritting his teeth so as not to let out whimpers that would have certainly irritated Squalo. Part of his face was buried in the long, achromatic hair and the dampness he felt against his cheek made him realize that Squalo must have stood under the rain for quite some time.

It felt cold against his skin, despite the heat building up at his crotch's level; and suddenly, he found himself shuddering even more as the freezing air made contact with his partly exposed legs. It had taken Squalo less than a second to remove his fingers from him and yank his pants down to the knees.

"Ahh… Squalo…" Yamamoto breathed out his name involuntarily, and the mere sound of his name being called with such a desperate voice was enough to trigger a gust of desire within Squalo.

He kissed the younger swordsman greedily, savouring the soft and muffled moans vibrating against his tongue and smirking inwardly at the faint trembling of Yamamoto's arms around his neck.

Too late to go back now, damn kid.

He pressed Yamamoto against the door and lifted one of his legs to grant him a better access, their lips still sealed together. Yamamoto barely realized what was happening to him until his eyes snapped wide open when something much larger than fingers was felt probing his entrance.

"Squa…lo…" he pleaded, arching his back.

The only answer Squalo gave him was an abrupt move of his hips upwards, and Yamamoto's eyes shut tight, his mind blank from the acute pain that seared through his whole body as if he had been slashed from inside by Squalo's blade.

Not only semen, but also blood was now trailing down his thighs. Yamamoto's breathing turned erratic, gasping for air to cool off his mind and make him focus on anything but the pain piercing him like daggers.

Squalo…Squalo…Squalo…Squalo…

He repeated mentally over and over, not daring to emit any sound for fear of letting out an unwanted cry of pain. He felt Squalo stopping mid-way, probably to let him get used to the size, and heard him grunt at his ear:

"You're too damn tight, kid."

Well, of course he was. Never before had Yamamoto been touched at that place, what did Squalo expect? The teen wanted to reply but at that same moment, Squalo entered him deeper with one sharp thrust, making his body jolt at the forceful intrusion. And at that same moment, Yamamoto thought he was going to pass out, which he would have certainly did if a dart of cold hadn't hit his cheek.

He managed to raise his head a bit, and through his half-open eyelids, saw the first drops of rain falling on him. Falling on them. Could he have asked for anything better? Being veiled by his favourite element while taken by Squalo was the pinnacle of completion, the coldness hitting his face was keeping him conscious and allowing his senses to sharpen to the point that every single of his nerves was stimulated by continuous discharges of intense pleasure mixed with fading pain.

Every thrust earned Squalo a gasp from Yamamoto, and it was obvious that the Rain Guardian was trying hard to get some air into his lungs, but Squalo's quick pace barely gave him the opportunity to. The pants were getting more and more irregular, ringing like a melody of agony to Squalo's ears; yet, right now, Yamamoto felt more alive than ever. His eyes gazed upwards, looking as the sky was crying tears of rain on him and wrapping him with a sheet of coldness.

He shuddered unconsciously as a few drops landed on his half exposed shoulder and trailed down his chest, raising goose bumps all over his skin. His body was torn between two opposite sensations; from inside, he felt consumed by the bright fire that Squalo had started and was fuelling with a rage worthy of his reputation, at the same time, he was shivering as his wet clothes stuck to his skin as if to try and put out the same fire that was slowly devouring him.

"Damn rain!" Squalo cursed as he pounded into Yamamoto once more.

That surprised the teen who gathered his breath to articulate:

"You... don't like... rain?" he managed to ask, though not without some trouble.

"Shut up." came the harsh reply with an even harsher thrust which made Yamamoto hiss.

"But rain is... ahh... your element..." the younger swordsman went on, oblivious of the ferocity with which Squalo was ravaging him.

"Just shut up, damn brat!" And as to make sure that Yamamoto would follow his order, Squalo smashed his lips against the teen's own, feeling the faint taste of rain on them.

The weather had turned wretched. It was no more a light rain, but a complete downpour that soaked both swordsmen in less than three seconds. Well, Squalo was a bit better protected by his coat than Yamamoto, but his hair was now heavy with water, tarnishing its stainless whiteness into a dull pale grey. Yet, it didn't weaken the Varia's ardour to claim Yamamoto's body again and again, not giving a damn about the icy shower drenching them to the skin. Locked in what seemed to be an endless kiss, it seemed that nothing else existed in their world but them.

A few more thrusts, and Squalo released his seed inside of Yamamoto who came not so long after. The older male pulled back immediately and redid his pants as if nothing had happened. In front of him, Yamamoto imitated him before sliding down to the ground, wincing in the process as his bottom inevitably hurt him. His pants were soaked wet but it was the last thing he cared about at that moment. Head slightly lowered, heavy pants making his chest heave up and down, he looked more like a discarded broken doll than a human.

Squalo merely stood there, staring at his pupil with a undecipherable look in his eyes. Water was streaming down their faces, cutting their fleshes like thousands of blunt blades as if to chastise them for the sin they had just committed.

As if Squalo cared about such a futility. He didn't even consider screwing a fifteen-year-old boy a sin. Especially when it was the said boy who had asked for it.

None of them spoke during several minutes. The only sound that could be heard was that of the deluge around them flooding the whole city.

"You got what you wanted. Happy?" Squalo's sharp voice made its way to Yamamoto's ears. Silver eyes pierced the veil of rain to the sitting figure in front of them. And slowly, very slowly, brown eyes met with them.

Yamamoto's lips moved, and probably did words come out from his mouth, but if they did, the battering rain covered them all. Squalo frowned at the unheard reply.

"Tch, whatever."

And like a déjà vu, he turned round and started walking away. A few more metres and he jumped off the roof, disappearing from Yamamoto's sight once again.

"Finally a bit of sun!" Tsuna exclaimed as he gazed at the clear blue sky. "Isn't it great for you, Yamamoto? You'll be able to play baseball again."

"Hahaha, you're right. It's a good thing it doesn't rain anymore." the taller boy replied, not even bothering to look.

As expected, Squalo hadn't given any sign of life after their meeting on the roof. Yamamoto supposed the Varia had gone back to Italy. A chuckle escaped his lips, and yet the smile he displayed could hardly be sadder.

Once I give it to you, there's no fucking way you won't ask for more.

The words echoed in his mind for the hundredth time. You know me better than anyone, don't you Squalo? But how could I possible ask for more when you're not even around?

"Yamamoto?" Tsuna called him.

"Oh, sorry, I spaced out!" Yamamoto replied with his usual laugh. "Well, let's go back!"

An envelope on his desk. The same stamps as the previous time. Yamamoto's eyes widened in surprise. He opened the letter carefully. Squalo's handwriting. One sentence. But it was enough to make Yamamoto's heart leap in his chest.

Come to Italy if you want me to tutor you.

Yamamoto just hoped that Italy was a rainy country.

--
Hope you enjoyed reading this!