A/N's: Okay so this is my first time writing a KHR Fan-Fic. It was a complete spur of the moment even though I've wanted to make a Reborn fic for like ever, 'cause I'm obsessed! I mean really KHR is addictive! Naturally when people write fics, the story revolves around their favorite character(s) and I am no exception… so obviously this fiction will be about my lovely Nappo-chan! (Aka: Mukuro-sama) Pineapples RULE! Now I must warn you…
Warnings: This will be a Shounen-Ai (don't like don't read), the main pairing will be 1869 in other words Hibari-san and Mukuro (why you ask?) because I said so and I don't see enough of it! It is a bit AU, There will be some bad language (maybe, if I'm bold enough), gore, a lot of drama, supernatural stuff, boyXboyness, random crap, blood, among other stuff that I will put up in later chapters. One more thing is that this might, I repeat might, turn in to a Yaoi depending if I'm brave enough.
Disclaimer: If I owned Katekyo Hitman Reborn I would be rich and living in a pent house with Mukuro-sama and Hibari-san. Sadly I don't so I'm stuck in this town house writing boy love like it'll make a difference…
Anyway enough with the ranting on my part, let's get on with the story!
Nebbia: Un'interruzione Delle Trasmissioni
Prologue: The Two Sky's Never Saw Their Happy Ending
"What more did you want?"
"...to live happily ever after."
"…you know you can't have that…"
"I can still dream, can't I?"
Once upon a time there was a boy… he always tried to see the good in people, the best in life. He was beautiful inside and out, despite what others told him. The boy was caring and saw with an open heart, he was so innocent yet so very naïve like most children.
Now this boy didn't come from a high class rich family or an even nice family- in fact his mother hated him and blamed him for all there misfortune and his father barley acknowledges him except when using him to vent out frustration. However, the young boy didn't seem to mind, he still loved his mama and papa regardless of what others may think. He still tried to please and catch his parent's attention, even when ignored~ but what child wouldn't?
The boy spent a lot of his time at the local town church, which he always sat at the very back observing carefully. Some thought it was an escape he constructed in order to avoid 'family' time as much as possible. Though the real reason was he enjoyed speaking to the head priest, the only one he ever spoke too. You see he didn't have any friends. He was a quit child and kept mostly to himself. The boy had a disorder that left him tired and weak and unable to keep up with the other children, physically. There are moments when his eyes would cloud over as if he was in a trance or seeing something that isn't there. This usually resulted in the other children calling him names such as weirdo, spacer, weakling… freak. He never told anyone of the things he saw when this would happen, in fear of complete rejection from all those around him. Nor did he understand why he was so tired all the time. His mother once told him that it was because he had come out to early and she had to pay more medical expenses to keep him in the hospital an extra three months till he could come home. She didn't seem to happy about that because after remembering she had started yelling at him, saying something along the lines that it was his fault. Fault for what? The boy didn't know.
Though the boy's life was far from perfect, he was still kind and polite to those around him. Even if he was only following the examples of his favorite fairytale books, the ones that read, "be kind to someone and you should be rewarded the same way."
The boy had no idea how misleading those morals could be when related to the real world…
A figure tossed and turned on the cold floor of its cell, mumbling in its sleep.
Mukuro's P.O.V:
Plop… plop, plip… plop…
"Is that… water? Is it raining? No… I hear…"
I open my eyes, looking down I'm standing atop water and I am alone in a huge distorted cavern. There are large pillar like hands reaching up to the top of the exceedingly high ceiling holding the upper part of the cave, along with smaller and skinner jagged edged ones coming out of the water in every direction.
'Nyah… sniff… wahh…' I could hear faint sobs throughout the grotto.
…Someone's crying… they sound in pain.
"Are you hurt? Hello? Is someone there? Why are you crying?" I call out.
In the distant I see a figure hunched over into a ball.
"Can you hear me? What's wrong? Are you lost? Please stop crying…" I ask and plead, the sorrow this person is giving off is suffocating and I have the urge to make this person smile, happy. Who is this person? And why do I feel so protective of him/her?
Suddenly, the figure disappears and it gets a little bit darker and the water beneath me starts to glow before it turns red, blood. An awful smell arises and before I can run, something starts to drag me under, hands; dozens of hands grab and pull at me. I can hear myself scream, but no sound ever comes out. I'm reaching up towards the surface just like the giant hands holding the ceiling, but unable to completely imitate them as I am pulled further down. As I stare fearfully up, trying to ignore the pain of nails digging into flesh, a cloaked figure emerges floating above me… and it speaks to me…
"…blood will spill, lives will be sacrificed…" a load demonic voice boomed. However through my fear and my attempt to find my voice, I was unable to hear all of what it spoke. Bits and pieces screamed in my ears. "…channeled by hatred… you will be bathed in red…" My vision blurs.
Normal P.O.V:
Cerulean eyes flew open as there owner shot up into a sitting position, panting. Wide eyes searched wildly across the small room they were kept in. The owner of said eyes belonged to a small boy no more than ten years of age with black semi short hair that reached just above his chin, long bangs that framed his pale doll like face, deep wide azure eyes, cute button nose and pink pouty lips. He truly did look like a porcelain doll sitting there in the dark. He was about to go back to bed when the cell door banged open revealing a tall dark figure with a white lab coat.
He was pointing a gun at him.
"Number069, you can either come quietly or we can use force." The figure spoke, none too kindly.
The boy didn't say anything, only got up on his thin frail legs that could just barley hold his small frame and walked out of the room. Another man was waiting outside; he started to lead the way, with the boy in the middle between both white coats. The boy knew where the two men were taking him. He had the urge to kick and scream, to run far away and never look back. But he didn't, he knew he wouldn't get far; he remained silent as they took him into a white room with medical tools, wirers, and machines. Though the boy had been to this room before or ones similar to it, each time going through immense pain and agony that left behind horrid scars, this time felt different. The boy got the feeling that this time he was going to know what true pain was and it was going to hurt and scar him like no other wound before it.
One of the white coats grabbed him and hoisted him on the cold metal table. The boy was instructed to lie down, so he did. He was then strapped down with two large restraints that covered his small chest and the knee area of his legs, his wrists and ankles were also restrained.
He couldn't move.
One of the men in the white coat injected something into his left forearm, while another injected something in to the side of his right eye. A bright light from above the table turned on and made the boy flinch and squint a bit before his vision adjusted. The men started to mumble and whisper about this and that, but the boy wasn't listening, his mind was drifting.
The boy closed his two beautiful cerulean eyes thinking of what was to come, the future, the past, hopes and dreams that don't exist anymore and feelings like joy, happiness and love that were destroyed, torn to shreds that one fateful night. Oh, how he wished he could go back in a time machine and change the events of that day, but sadly he could not. He was forever trapped in this miserable life, this ugly world that chained him to the sins of others. If only the reality were like those fairytale books he would always read prior to when he was taken here. Where the one in danger was always saved by the knight in shining armor and everyone lived happily ever after. 'I could really use my knight in shining armor right about now.' the boy thought to himself. Unfortunately real life was in no such way as those fairytales nor did anyone truly live happily ever after. People just say those things in order to make themselves feel better, to have hope in a superior future. The boy knew more than most adults out there that the world was cruel and harsh and showed no mercy to the weak or young.
The boy was brought from his thoughts with the sound of shuffling and voices. He opened his blue eyes to see the outline of a figure leaning over him and one of its hands reaching with a scalpel towards his right eye.
The child was frozen, wide eyes stared dreadfully at the knife that drew closer and when metal met flesh and blood… he screamed.
...e due cielo non visto mai loro gongolo finale…
After Thoughts with you: So, yeah that's the prologue. I know it's confusing right now, but your questions will be answered (hopefully) as the story progresses. I hope it was good enough, like I said this is my first attempt at a KHR story-so please be kind and take the time to R&R. Really people it's not that time consuming… XD Anyways thanks for reading!
Waves Franticly Goodbye!
