Katekyo Hitman REBORN! (because CAPS is sexy) does not belong to me. Neither do any of the characters. Etc. etc.

Squalo slid down against the wall. His black Varia uniform was covered in dark red blood which was dripping down his face at a fast rate. Breathing heavily, he reached for his fake arm that had broken off during the fight. Unfortunately for him, his sword had been shattered as well.

Picking up the prosthetic limb up with his real hand, he examined the damage. Two fingers had broken off, three were crooked and the whole thing was cracked in places.

Grande Pioggia Squalo, his box weapon, lay a few feet in front of him. It thrashed around wildly like a dead fish; the shark was lying upside down. With great difficulty, Squalo reached into his pants' pocket and brought his box out. He returned the shark to its box. He bit back a sigh.

Groaning, he touched the blood on his face. There was a huge cut on his forehead that hurt like hell. Squalo closed his eyes.

What a pansy way to die, he thought. Just sitting here like some old fool.

But he was an old fool. An old fool who had lived for much too long. Assassins like him were expected to die off quickly. XANXUS would easily replace him, it wasn't like the scarred man cared for whether he lived or died. He would find a better person to do his job too.

Squalo snorted at his self-pity. Damn, I never wanted a slow death either.

The man was going numb from all the blood loss. Blood dripping down his head and eyes didn't make the situation any better either, but he didn't have enough energy to staunch the constant bleeding now.

His stump had also been badly cut. Squalo snorted at the irony. And his ankle was sprained. Perfect. Squalo thought. He gazed idly at the wall. His vision was starting to get blurry and red.

A few minutes later, Squalo's head burst into pain and he hissed loudly. Sh-Shit... He squeezed his eyes shut and held his stump of an arm tightly.

"SQUALO!"

Squalo's eyes snapped open and he almost swerved his head to see who it was before he remembered the pain. "What?" he groaned. Now he was hearing things. Was he going to die soon? About time.

"Yo-you're... hurt," Yamamoto Takeshi ran up to his mentor, Superbi Squalo. The boy assessed the older man's situation. He needed immediate medical attention right away. "I--"

"Save it, brat. Look, if you're only here to ogle at me, then leave." Squalo said with a grimace. Too bad he wasn't going to die yet.

He also had to keep up his tough rep in front of the katana-brat now.

Yamamoto's eyes softened. "I'm here to help."

"Why aren't you with Reborn and the other brats?" Squalo asked while Yamamoto knelt down and started wrapping a cloth around Squalo's head. A ripped sleeve from his shirt, to be exact.

"Oh, I wanted to see if you were okay. I want to help." Yamamoto finished tying the cloth around the man's head and put an arm around him in order to lift him up.

"Ow! The hell, brat! My ankle!" Squalo yelped. His vision was still blurry, but the pseudo tourniquet around his head helped, though only a little.

"Sorry, Squalo. I'll try to be more gentle." Yamamoto assured him with a smile. They started walking (well, Squalo limping) towards the entrance.

Gentle? Is this brat serious?! Squalo glared at the kid. "I don't need your help," he said. "I wouldn't need help from a brat like you."

Yamamoto only smiled again, this time even more serenely.

"I'm sure, Squalo. But it sure looks like you need some help now, ha ha!" Squalo chose to ignore him. He would get back at him another time.

Yamamoto glanced over to Squalo. He studied the other male's features. Long, silky hair and a very thin body. Yamamoto wondered if he was able to pick up weights easily. Probably. He's an assassin! And he's much stronger than he looks. Yamamoto chuckled to himself.

Suddenly, Squalo yelled in pain and fell down. Yamamoto caught him before that, however.

"Squalo! What happened?" Yamamoto asked in a concerned voice. Squalo cried hoarsely. "My foot..." he trailed off. Yamamoto sat him down and removed Squalo's boot. His socks came off after. Around Squalo's foot was a large swelling, purple bruise. It would take some time to heal.

Yamamoto knew Squalo couldn't possibly walk now; but the young boy had an idea.

"I'll carry you!" Yamamoto said brightly. "Don't worry, you'll be alright soon, Squalo. I promise."

Squalo could only gape at the honest fool as he was carefully placed atop the boy's shoulder (Squalo was much to tired to fight. Not to mention bleeding. Bad combination). His eyes narrowed.

"I'll kill you."