Title: Analogies
Characters: Yamamoto Takeshi, Reborn
Summary: As a member of the mafia, it's important to understand how to handle the weapon of your choice, but a gun as well. However, why that happened…
Notes: TYL. Nine hundred fifty-seven words. For Jessa on Tumblr.
Three hours of training, two and a half empty water bottles strewn across the room, and a resting swordsman define the practice room that the hit man is about to enter.
As the man pushes the door open in silence, he takes in the small details of the practice room, taking notice of the various bruises and cuts the floors and walls took from vicious strikes. He sees his target near a corner of the room—eyes closed—hugging the weapon he has so come to love.
Reborn steps in. Withdrawing the pistol in his hand, he walks over to the resting man, gun aimed directly at the other's forehead.
"I heard you come in, Reborn." Yamamoto opens one eye, looking directly into the barrel. He smiles. "This is a new form of greeting."
"Do you know how to defend yourself against a gun, Yamamoto Takeshi?"
"Well—"
"The answer is no," Reborn interrupts. "And this is why you are in this current situation, where you let your guard down in a time like this and would have been shot dead."
Yamamoto bites his lip. More so than anger, a surge of confusion races through his mind as he tries to figure out the sudden aggressiveness of the other. He slowly gets up and takes the pistol from Reborn's hands, the cold metal weighing heavily in his own.
"Yamamoto, you really should learn how to shoot with a gun," Tsuna says shakily. "I know you're not fond of the idea of killing, but… you did say you want to be a part of this, and I'm… just concerned for your well-being."
"Tsuna…"
"Che, he may have grown out of the title of being fucking clueless, but he's still an idiot inside and out. Know when to listen to the Tenth, and follow it. Your sword won't be able to protect you from everything."
"But I can make it so that it can…" he murmurs. His index finger grasps the trigger, and puts the slightest pressure on it.
"You need to learn, and if you do not manage to hit the target I set up for you by tonight…" Reborn pauses, a devilish smirk appearing on his lips. "You will pay for the consequences."
"Tough as ever, aren't you?" Yamamoto says, albeit with an edge of darkness. "Alright, I suppose you'll be teaching then?"
Reborn chuckles. "Quite good at stating the obvious, are we?" Tossing his fedora to the side, Reborn grabs one of the empty water bottles on the floor. Walking over to the other side, he places it on top of a kicking bag. Yamamoto couldn't help but feel his head rise, confidence entering him as he realized, the target isn't as impossible as Reborn could have made it.
"I don't mean to say that I'm as good as you are, Reborn, but I think you're underestimating my skills."
"Shoot it, then, if you are so confident," Reborn says with a mocking smirk.
Yamamoto holds the revolver up, and without a second thought, shoots. He winces even before the shot is made, eyes tightening as the gun rattles in his hand.
Even before the sound echoed throughout the room, Reborn manages to slide in the comment, "You missed."
The rain guardian looks up, and to his dismay, he did. Instead, a smoking hole appeared from the result of his first attempt at shooting.
"You must think when you shoot in order to maintain accuracy, but you must use that sixth sense in you that will allow for speed," Reborn hisses. He takes another revolver out of his coat pocket. Seconds later, Yamamoto finds himself staring at a water bottle with a clean hole through it.
Without a word, Reborn picks up another one of the empty water bottles and places it on the same kicking bag. "Shoot again. And another thing I noticed about you: you close your eyes." His eyes flicker with contempt. "Try that again one more time, and you will find yourself unconscious."
Yamamoto grits his teeth and holds the revolver up one more time. Eyes open… focus… shoot now!
The air of the bullet passing by merely knocks the water bottle over.
"Keep your eyes open, that is key, and your aim has already significantly improved. Fear the gun, and your life comes to an end, boy," Reborn says, nudging the slightly taller man.
"I don't get it," the swordsman says shakily. "I don't get why I have to learn to shoot. Why can't I just stick with my sword? There's nothing wrong with it, and it's not like having a gun will up my chances in su—"
Before he could finish his sentence, Reborn roughly pushes the revolver's barrel into the other's mouth. Yamamoto almost chokes at the sudden action, and a sound of muffled pain escapes.
"I respect your wishes to remain a swordsman, but you must realize that you cannot solely rely on one weapon." Reborn pulls the gun out.
Yamamoto gasps for air, covering his mouth at the bruised feeling that appeared. "T-That really wasn't necessary, Reborn."
"Nor is this." Reborn takes Yamamoto's lips into his own, his tongue exploring the inside of the other's mouth. He lets go, roughly pushing the swordsman away. "A kiss is no different from a gunshot. You miss, you fail. You hit the correct spot, bull's-eye. Try again. And you'll keep trying again until you hit the water bo—"
The younger man leans in and kisses his instructor, biting just hard enough to draw blood from such cruel lips. Licking the wound clean, he pulls away. "Like that?"
"You missed," Reborn starts, though a ghost of a grin appears, "by a lot."
"I can try again."
"Get back to practice."