Author's Notes (READ PLEASE – VERY IMPORTANT): I do not own Katekyo Hitman Reborn; it's all written for fun and no profit whatsoever.
Thank you to xxkoffeexx for offering an opinion beforehand!
This idea has been done to death, but I'm taking my shot at it (forgive the awful puns). I'm not entirely caught up to what's going in the Future Arc, so please excuse any vague explanations. I don't even know where exactly Tsuna was gunned down, but I'm guessing Japan. I don't even know if everyone was there, but they are for this story. Also, Reborn's a huge mystery. So, for this story, his death or non-death will happen afterward.
Since I haven't exactly experienced dying before, I'm thinking Tsuna's last thoughts might not be the clearest or in proper order, so I tried to illustrate that without sounding too out of it.
Gunshots, battle cries, and screams rang through the air and into Tsuna's ears, as shock settled into his system, his suit-clad, bleeding body collapsing to the pavement. He hit the ground hard, but barely registered the fall.
Time slowed.
What's happe—what am I doing?
Tsuna gazed at blue sky before seeing the frantic face of someone shouting in his face, attempting to lift him up – Gokudera, the first face to see while dying, and Tsuna vaguely wondered who would be the last—
Dying? He wasn't dying, was he?
No, Reborn just shot a Dying Will bullet. . .nothing to worry about. Reborn fired these bullets all the time (never mind the last one being some time ago or that Reborn hadn't accompanied Tsuna today).
"To a hospital, hurry—" Gokudera cursed.
Hospital? No, I'm going to be reborn! Just wait, just wait and see.
"Tsuna!" The Rain Guardian blocked another patch of blue sky, his face absent of a smile. Yamamoto had witnessed the Dying Will shot before. Maybe he'd tell Gokudera that it would be all right because Gokudera seemed to forget that it would be all right.
"G-Goku—" Tsuna gasped, coughing blood—Reborn had shot too many Dying Will bullets, so they must have been in real trouble, but Tsuna knew he would soon take of the opponents himself and they would regret messing with the Vongolas.
"Tenth, don't try to talk! Hang on, just hang on!"
Hang. . .on? To what? To what, Gokudera-kun, what are you talking about?
Why wasn't he aflame and jumping up to rip his clothes off and eliminate his regrets? Were there too many? Was it just taking too long to take effect? Maybe something was wrong with Leon, like the time he was about to face Mukuro Rokudo for the first time and received the puny mittens that would later turn into super-cool, leather X-gloves—
My gloves, I have them on, I don't need a Dying Will shot, what's Reborn thinking?
"Get out of my way!" came Gokudera's voice; he sounded far away. Where had he gone?
The ground wasn't underneath him anymore. Tsuna felt himself in somebody's arms, felt his head bob to and fro, saw a red dress shirt and black tie – Gokudera usually wore those clothes, so it must be Gokudera who had him.
"This way!" Yamamoto must be responsible for the sudden wet droplets Tsuna felt – were they under attack? Of course, they were.
Any time now, I'll be reborn. Reborn? Where's Reborn?
"Re—Rebor—" Tsuna couldn't get all the letters out. His chest heaved, warmth trickled down his chin, and he tasted more metal. Gokudera's clothing and Yamamoto's sprinting form suddenly blurred then cleared.
His hand found a wound.
(He had felt them so many times before that he almost assumed they were Dying Will bullets and not a real ones.)
I'm. . .dying. . . I'm dying. I'm dying! I'm going to die!
"No," he croaked, startling Gokudera by jerking and flailing his limbs about.
"Tenth—hold on!"
Tsuna wished Gokudera would let him go. He had to fight! Fight to live!
I can't go yet, I can't go – I don't want to die! Not now, not here, not yet, there's so much I haven't done yet!
"No. . . No! No!" Tsuna immediately thought of Kyoko; sweet, sweet Kyoko, the softer, morning light to her brother's harsh, blinding sun in midday. He was on his way to see her, to take her and hide her away in safety's keep. He was going to propose to her someday when the conflict was over, and they would live in Japan, have children, grow old together and die when he was in his nineties—
"Kyoko-chan!" I didn't tell you, didn't ask, didn't say how much I love—
Tsuna coughed again, and saw another wound below the first one his chest. And another off to the side. His shirt wasn't white anymore, and if she still did his laundry, Mom would have a fit over the stains and holes.
Mom, who always put up with any and all strange antics of his strange friends and acquaintances; Mom, who missed Dad—
Dad, who was never around, but still supported his family, anyway.
I would have been a better father—Dad and Mom are in Italy, they're safe, they must be, they don't have to know I've been shot—
Yamamoto yelled, "They're behind—"
"EXTREME!" Punches, groans. "Get Sawada out of here!"
Tsuna recognized the voice of the rescuer—Onii-san! Big Brother Ryohei, one of the three brothers Tsuna knew he had, three Tsuna cared for deeply as if they were his own blood brothers.
Ryohei would take care of Kyoko—thank you for trusting me with her.
Dino would help out the Vongolas—you've always looked out for me, Dino-san.
Fuuta, the youngest, who made Tsuna feel like an older brother—thank you for trusting me. . .
I'm dying.
He felt his body weakening further by the second, growing colder. The gunshot wounds were torture. His breathing quickened another heartbeat.
Time slowed.
I. . .I'm not going to make it.
Tsuna blinked away tears, seeing the peaceful, unaffected clouds heavenward.
Hibari. . .I'm sorry I won't get to fight. . .
"I see Hibird. Hibari's here," Yamamoto said. Tsuna could hear the man's footsteps pounding the pavement alongside Gokudera's (were they still running? How long had it been? Why were they speaking so faintly?). "And Lambo and I-Pin."
Those two, how could he forget? They had always been so silly and annoying as children, but reliable and loyal as teenagers. Tsuna managed the weakest of smiles in remembrance of his other little brother and his little sister.
Stay together and protect Haru.
Haru, one of his very best friends, even after knowing Tsuna didn't return the same feelings for her. Haru always stuck by him, held the utmost confidence in him, put her heart into everything she did.
I'm sorry I can't protect you, either.
The Ninth—Tsuna saw the Ninth and Giotto. Were they really here or was it just an illusion?
No, Chrome wouldn't be so cruel. . .or maybe it's Mukuro. . .but I don't think he's all bad. . .
"—it, where's the blasted hospital?" Gokudera hissed, but his outburst barely startled Tsuna, who felt himself drifting further and further away.
Tsuna glimpsed a familiar clothing shop, saw people running and screaming.
We've haven't gone. . gone more than a block yet. . .?
I'm dying.
Fresh tears sprang forth.
Why did I go today, help me—stop! Stop! I don't want to die, I don't want to—"I can't—" hold on, it hurts!
"I love Kyoko—t-tell her that, tell her that!"
"T-Tsuna. . .Tsuna!" Yamamoto appeared in Tsuna's blurring vision (were those tears in the rain guardian's eyes or was it just rain?).
Yamamoto, the one Tsuna saved from suicide; the true friend, who made Tsuna remember the good times when they weren't battling other Mafiosi; the one whose smile washed away all the worries.
"Y-Yamamoto-kun," Tsuna half-croaked, half-whispered. "Your smile. . ."
"T-Tenth—w-wait!" The Storm Guardian's voice broke down but completely, and made Tsuna feel guilty. Gokudera had done so many self-sacrificing things, had even braved attacks and traffic. All for him: Tsuna. All for him. . .
He's going to blame himself. . .no, Gokudera-kun, it's not your fault, it's not. . .
"G-Goku. . .Gokudera-kun!" Tsuna spoke with the remaining strength he had. "T-Thank you. . ."
"Tenth!" Gokudera cried, collapsing to the ground. Tsuna felt Gokudera's arms tighten their hold, saw Yamamoto lean forward to grasp his shoulder.
They know. . .
"Hold on Ten—Tsuna, hold on!" Gokudera shouted, "P-Please. . ."
"Tsuna. . ." Yamamoto whispered.
Tsuna's chest heaved; it was getting difficult to breathe. Pain tore through him with every trembling breath.
Keeping his eyes open was tiring (the sky was so blue).
Time slowed.
Tsuna's eyelids drooped. He was exhausted. . .he desperately wanted to sleep and forget it all.
He wanted to give up.
This is what it's like. . .
"We're here!" Bianchi. It was Bianchi, a trustworthy ally, and with her usually was. . .
"Tsuna."
Re. . .Reborn!
Tsuna's eyes snapped open, gasping and coughing. "R-Reborn!" Tsuna looked into the youthful face of an older Reborn and almost smiled at how strange Reborn's sideburns still looked. "I-I'm so—so glad. . ."
I can't give up just yet.
Reborn, the hitman tutor, who had started it all; who had brought in all kinds of crazy, unbelievable people into Tsuna's life; who had completely transformed Tsuna from a nobody to somebody; who had shot the Dying Will bullet so many times; who knew more than he let on.
Reborn, who always ignored Lambo.
Tsuna stared at his teacher and friend through half-closed eyes. "Reborn. . .f-find a. . ."
Reborn, you could always read my mind somehow. . .find a way. Lambo has the bazooka. . .use it.
It doesn't have to end like this. . .for him.
Under the wild blue yonder, the boss of the Vongola Famiglia, Tsunayoshi Sawada – Decimo – passed on.
And so began the fulfillment of his dying will.