A/N: Well, here it is. My very first ever posting on FFN. I'm not usually writing deep and depressing stories. Just the thought intrigued me.
Disclaimer: Katekyo Hitman Reborn does not belong to me, neither do the characters.
Why It Is
Flip.
"And today's forecast is-"
Squalo already knew. It was going to be rainy.
Flip.
"-croikey!"
He crossed his legs impatiently. Wasn't that show cut because Levi killed that guy or something?
Flip.
"- seriously disabled monkeys with Herpes B, a-"
"What the fuck is this?"
Flip.
"-and Yamamoto Takeshi strikes yet anoth-"
Flip.
"Huh? Hey. Turn it back." he stared at the television as it was changed back, his already apparent frown deepening. His eyes narrowed darkly.
"Yamamoto ends the inning single-handedly with no hits, no runs, and no runners left on base! Quite the rookie, huh, Sasagawa?"
"Yes, his debut was extremely satisfying! We all should've known, he set extremely unbreakable pitching records in only ten extreme minutes!"
"Amaz-"
He stabbed the TV, silencing it. "VOOOOOOOOOOOIIIIIIIIIIIII, FUCKING FAILURE! WHY THE FUCK-" he kicked the set down, "WOULD YOU DO THAT? YOU FUCKING PROMISED!" he began stomping on it.
"Squalo, the prince was watching that."
"Long-haired commander, do you often have strong ties with electrical appliances? I think the toaster needs a friend, and if you're free tonight, maybe the two of you could have a nice dinner by candlelight."
Squalo whipped around to glare at them, "WHAT THE FUCK?"
"Ah, no toaster? Perhaps the microwave...?"
He stomped out of the room as Bel began giggling. He slammed the door behind him, which elicited louder giggles from the storm guardian.
He headed to his room immediately, to collect any belongings that he would need for travel. He decided that the long journey to Japan would take one hour at the max. Otherwise, someone was going to die.
Squalo tossed a few items into a bag, then stared at it. He ripped the bag in half, dropping it and it's contents on the ground.
He kicked his window open, then jumped to the ground.
"I'm going to fuckin' kill him..."
Yamamoto grinned at his team mates that sat next to him in the dugout. He was happy to be there, he was happy to play baseball, he was happy to be surrounded by friendly faces...
Though, there was always something that made him falter in his happiness, if only internally.
Squalo.
He'd promised to the man that he would learn swordsmanship. He knew that he couldn't play baseball professionally if he were to remain being a strong guardian for Tsuna, but surely... one year couldn't hurt.
While he was thinking of Squalo, he had slowly dropped his happy smile, and was frowning.
"Yo, boss, you all good? You're up after the next guy!"
Yamamoto jerked out of his fazed state, then laughed at how silly he must've looked. "Yeah, of course!" he got up and stretched as he walked to get his bat and helmet.
"Go get 'em, boss! Home run, yeah?"
Yamamoto's eyes glinted.
Squalo ripped his seat belt off and grabbed the door handle, ripping it off and shoving the door open.
"The hell-?" the man in the seat next to him began panicking.
He dove off the plane, cursing at how slow the gravity seemed to take effect.
Yamamoto stepped up to the plate, then slowly leaned into his batting pose. He watched the pitcher carefully.
The ball was pitched. He swung his bat, and it connected with the ball. He ran for first, second, and third; then... the ball was called foul.
"Haha, whoops!" he began jogging back to home plate.
"VOOOOOOOOIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!"
Yamamoto hit the ground.
He stared down at his student; his hand on his neck, pinning him to the ground. "You piece of shit..."
"Sq... Squalo? Ahah-"
His grip tightened, cutting the laugh off. "Shut the fuck up." he picked Yamamoto up, then dragged him out of the stadium, easily dispatching all who got in his way.
His student remained eerily silent.
He had a feeling this would happen. He didn't even remember why he wanted to play baseball in the first place. He let himself hang limp from Squalo's grip, his eyes shut.
"Squ-"
"Shut. Your fuckin'. Trap."
He grunted in acknowledgment.
"I said shut the fuck up!"
Yamamoto felt himself being slammed against a wall. He opened one eye, then blinked both open. They were at his own house. "Sq-"
He'd had enough of the talking. He shoved Yamamoto's face against the wall. "Don't make me repeat myself, brat."
He listened to his student's silence. Again, he slammed him against the wall. Yamamoto continued to be quiet.
"Fucker." he turned the boy to face him, unsheathing his sword. "You'll pay for not studying the sword, brat."
Yamamoto caught his gaze, and held it steadily. "I said that-" Squalo unleashed several blows upon him, ignoring the odd acceptance from his student.
"Said what?"
"That I'd study the sword..."
Squalo stabbed straight through his shoulder, then pulled the sword out again, waiting for the reaction.
Yamamoto slid to the ground, biting his lip to control his pain. He looked up at his tutor and held his own arm. He'd used that arm to pitch a perfect inning less than twenty minutes ago. "Squalo."
He felt the end of Squalo's sword under his chin. He blinked at him.
He narrowed his eyes at the babyish face before him. "Brat."
"Squal-"
He slashed through his chin, watching as the boy fell back against the wall.
Squalo clicked his tongue, then walked to the phone. He dialed Vongola the tenth and threw it at Yamamoto. "Catch."
He turned, and left the house.
It was a long way home. He would have to pick up the groceries for his family.
"Ah, mom! The phone's ringing!"
"Tsuna, would you mind picking it up? I'm making lunch!"
"Ah, yes!" Tsuna picked the phone up, "Hello? Helloooooooo? H-Hello? Is this a prank? Hey!" he waited for a response. Frowning, he hung up. He would just redial the number...
"You've reached the Yamamoto household! Please leave a message!"
Tsuna's blood ran cold. "Yamamoto...?" he was supposed to be at his first professional baseball game!
"Who was it, dear?"
"A-Ah, no one! I have to go out and meet Gokudera now! I'll be back!" Tsuna grabbed his coat and ran to Gokudera's house. He knocked on the door, then grabbed his friend's hand as soon as he answered.
"Eh? Tenth? What's this about?" he was grinning at their hands.
"Yamamoto!"
"Huh? Isn't he...?"
"Come on!" Tsuna tugged on his hand desperately. Something with his friend was amiss, Yamamoto would not have dialed and not spoken.
Gokudera followed obediently. Once they arrived at Yamamoto's house, he shouted, "Look, tenth, the door's been left open!"
They both ran into the home, and stopped. Their friend's body was lying before them, the phone in his hand.
Gokudera rushed forward and grabbed his wrist, feeling the beat of the blood pumping through the baseball idiot's vein. "H-he's still got a pulse..." he glanced back at Tsuna, his eyes wide.
"Y-Yamamoto..."