A wave of green leaves crunched and crumbled, popping like the steady flame of a roaring stream of violet. Hushing, waking dreams of pure bliss and nipping at the nape of an unsuspecting neck. Swarms of thorns glided through the midnight breeze, a needle and thread seeping into pink, soft skin that flushed at the contact. Wind whispered in gentle gasps, blowing smoke into the bosom of ancient trees, moss hanging like string and bowing down to the field mice that rushes by like the steady water.
It reminded Tsuna of a beautiful secret childhood. The one that reminisced of forts of old, a makeshift tent stuffed with feathery clouds, blankets and shawls sprawled out on the floor haphazardly in such a way that acts as a sleeping bag, trinkets and gadgets have been hidden in a special place, food hung up in a tied up basket above, lights were strung around that acted as twinkling stars. It was shared with a person who made the world feel a whole lot safer. One who spoke of dangerous adventures that awaited them beyond the white fence, the miracles of living in the outdoors, all the while stuffing their face full of caramel popcorn from the mom's kitchen.
He watched as a silver petaled dragonfly floated easily beyond the evergreen, long wings pushing off in a slow, rhythmic pattern. The flame jumped up, trails of orange wisping, beckoning Tsuna to wander closer, the heat itself licking at his face. The dragonfly landed on a nearby branch above his head, overlooking the cool summer night like an owl.
A high-pitched whistle was sound behind him, followed by the clank of a pan. Tsuna smiled softly to himself, standing up from his spot on the rusted log, turning his attention to the man who brought him to this sanctuary. Reborn was leaned over the cast iron stove, black hair slicked back with care, humming an old tune to himself and opening the packet of hot dogs with a sharp edged knife that glistened against the moon's light.
There was another beautiful thing about the outdoors. How it could either bond and break a family. How it left an imprint on your arm or leg in odd ways. The moon that shone through the trees and casted playful shadows while they slept. There was, sometimes, a feeling of dread in the deep pit of his stomach that clenched up at the thought of being swept away in the currents; a late night thought is what Tsuna called it. It left him scared. Afraid of what was going to happen. He knew it would be trouble in the end without a person to pull him closer during the night, hushing the young man back into a deep slumber, never letting him go.
Tsuna relaxed at the idea of bringing another person along. As he walked over to Reborn, he began to think of a few times that the man had helped him during their outdoor vacation. A time where his lithe fingers desperately grasped onto a fishing pole, a large black bass springing in and out of the water, spouting droplets of water up in the air, tugging and pulling. A strong hand grabbed onto the pole, tugging the rod upwards and using the other hand to reel the mighty king in. Tsuna was grateful. He apologized, he felt horrible. He was weak and had to have someone else help him in his time of need. Reborn only let out a laugh and patted his head, as if it didn't matter to him. He made him feel like he was truly worth his time.
He was the one who made him feel like he was worth something.