This story was written by Shiro. But this was spawned by a prompt that Ryu gave me: Life is just a game we play. I was originally going to wait until Yamamoto's birthday, April 24, to write this, but it popped out without my permission. (Of course, it stopped me from finishing my homework like I had planned.) Please don't read this story until after you've read the Future Arc!
Disclaimer: Katekyo Hitman Reborn! and characters © Amano Akira
Omnipotence
One day, I decided to say it out loud: "You know, if you really think about it, life is just a game we play…"
Of course, it was Gokudera that scoffed and sarcastically replied, "Is it really?"
". . . well . . . I guess it also depends on which kind of game and setting you play on, right?"
After my answer, he immediately exploded, screaming, "YOU STUPID BASEBALL IDIOT! What's with that retarded way of thinking!"
As Gokudera began throwing his dynamite at me, I heard Tsuna stutter, "Go-Gokudera-kun, please stop!"
"Ahaha!" I laughed as I dodged the explosives.
I guess I didn't phrase that quite right, huh?
When we met Byakuran . . . nah, that isn't correct.
When I first came to the future, I was shocked beyond belief. Once the bubble-gum pink cloud had dissolved away, I realized that I wasn't in the practice field anymore. Gokudera was the first person that I registered in my confusion, which was a relief, but there was also a weird purple-haired guy floating in the air. I had to blink several times – energy drink packet hanging out of my mouth and bat swung over my left shoulder – to make sure that it wasn't a strange dream. It really wasn't.
The next thing I knew, my body was tackling Miura-san and Lambo to the ground as a deadly-looking red flame descended. In a baseball game, I would have been proud of the speed of my slide and how quickly I had handled the situation.
But this wasn't a game, and we most certainly weren't playing to see numbers increase on a scoreboard.
Then came the fight against Gamma. I reassured Tsuna, promising to quickly complete the mission. Like the hero of a game charging into an unknown land in order to beat the sub-boss, telling the worried villagers that I would come back successful. And so I went with all the confidence of a winner, a person who believes there's always a guaranteed victory.
Even when Gokudera and I were losing against the man, I didn't really think about the consequences. Fine, I decided, I'll let Gokudera realize that we need to combine our powers in order to beat the enemy. So I felt happy when he finally conceded and let me join him in the battle.
+10 in "teamwork" skills! is what my computer would have cheerfully declared as we unleashed our dual combo attacks. Yeah, and after I had beaten the sub-boss, I'd have also gained experience points, maybe enough to level up. The ideal fight.
So I was more than a little surprised when the unbeatable, pinch-hitter, baseball ace had to be dragged back to the base, tortured and dying. Game over! Would you like to restart from your last save point? Reality had slapped me in the face, and I had deserved it.
The thing is . . . real life doesn't have a restart button. It doesn't have the option of using another life, or instantaneously healing by exchanging currency "won" from defeating monsters. It doesn't have a magical item that can restore the health points of your companions.
In the world ten years later, two of my most important people, Tsuna and my old man, had been murdered. Because this mafia game had gone too far, I had thought at first. But no, that can't be it, because I thought the whole purpose of building our Famiglia was to protect them. We were strong, I had believed, because we had won the battles against the Varia. The main character should never die before the supporting heroes do, because then, when you beat the big baddie at the end, who else would you be able to play as? So Tsuna shouldn't have been the first to die.
Nothing can bring Tsuna down, as long as he knows we're here to help . . .
Ah, I know that's not the case anymore. Not after sneaking off one night to peek at the night-black coffin of the Vongola Decimo.
Somehow, though, I don't think "Decimo" and "Tsuna" are the same characters at all.
By this time, I knew we weren't in a game. Haha, I guess there were still parallels and stuff I kept making, like when we infiltrated the Melone Base like those undercover spies in movies. But I was determined to take this seriously.
But Byakuran, he knew . . .
The fact that we were ten years less experienced made it all the more amusing to the Millefiore. As my face hit the concrete wall with a sickening smack, I noticed for the first time the condescending light in Genkishi's eyes. He had never planned to truly fight against me. I passed out before I could even feel outraged at his trick.
If we were giving our best efforts to defeat them, they shouldn't have the right to make fun of us.
Choice was definitely a game to the Millefiore. There stood Byakuran with his faux smile and enthusiasm. Bluebell was petulantly complaining about how long the "party" was taking. Zakuro yawned and declared his boredom.
It didn't really seem like we were fighting for our lives.
But then again, that's life too, I guess.
I remember hearing an Italian proverb that says, "After the game is over, the pawn and king go back in the same box." There are a lot of people who say that the "box" could be a coffin to symbolize death. Meaning that, even if we die, we're all the same, no matter how powerful we were in life.
Did that mean that Tsuna and my dad are waiting for this game to be over before they could say, All right, let's reset the board and play again?
And so when I heard that Tsuna really wasn't dead after all, I could hear myself release a breath I didn't know I was holding.
Ah, everything's all right now. We'll be fine, too. This future will be fixed and we can all return to a peaceful Namimori. I grinned and picked up my sword again.
Because, after all . . .
Life is just a game we play until we all return to our boxes.
And I'm not planning on leaving just yet.
