They'd been together for two weeks. Two weeks and Reborn still didn't even know her name. He didn't even know what she sounded like, either. So he just started calling her "kid." She didn't mind, though. Actually, she didn't mind anything. She was fine with everything.

There was so much wrong with that. She was, what? A middle schooler? And she was totally fine with providing company to an older man – a dashing older man, mind you – with guns that he used to kill Infectees for the most part of his day.

Obviously one of them weren't right in the head, and Reborn was sure it was the girl. It unnerved him in some ways, her passiveness. She looked like an Infectee, too. Her eyes had a vacant and dead look to them. Sometimes he worried that she was infected, but he'd remind himself that he tested her right after he carried her out her home and she proved to be not infected.

She was handy – oh wow, no pun intended – he'll give her that much. That was mostly why he kept her around. She could cook a decent meal with whatever he managed to get from the empty houses or grocery stores that were sometimes flitted with Infectees. And after a brief lesson on the ways of the knife, it was slightly disturbing how well accustomed she was at using it after a course of two-weeks. With one hand, too.

"Up and at 'em, kid," he nudged her awake with his foot. She sat upright and stared at him with those dead eyes with a look he guessed was expectancy. He was getting better and better at figuring her out. "We're heading to a building that may or may not be filled with Infectees. Prepare yourself and try not to die."

The girl nodded, her right hand hanging loosely above her belt where she kept her knife. Her left sleeve extended well past her hand. It was a good thing, he didn't see the stub that was her left hand and he doubted she did either.

His hat cast a shadow over his eye. She was just a kid. A kid. What kind of…what kind of punk did things like this? What kind of kid was okay with such demands? She didn't even protest when he led her to an Infectee invested place. Not once. Not ever.

He clenched his fists. He had no time for emotions. Emotions killed people. Emotions were why shewas dead. Emotions drove people to do crazy things. It was why he started all of this, after all. Emotions were useless. Logic was the only thing one would ever need.

Logic and a decent partner. He admitted to needing one. He admitted to needing someone to watch his back. He was the strongest hitman in the world, yes, but he still didn't have eyes in the back of his head. He still couldn't shoot every single Infectee out there.

He needed a partner. Kid or not, the girl would do.

…*…

1. Two Breaths Walking.

…*…

Tsuna was truly baffled as to how he was alive. Truly, he was. His town was littered with serial cannibals, and yet, he was alive. Not only that, but he managed to get some food and water. Albeit, he got them through immoral means – but no one was home at the houses and the doors were wide open! Did it really constitute as stealing? – but he still got them.

He had found himself at an empty park. Most of Namimori was empty – if he was lucky, that is. Other times he found himself with the serial cannibals. They really scared him. Was there a cult of them, or something? Gosh, this was just so messed up.

He pulled out a bottle of water from his bag and sat cross-legged on the park bench, drinking it in tiny sips. He remembered some book talking about not drinking too much water in one sitting when you're really thirsty. He smiled sadly to himself.

See, he wasn't so useless now. He…he…wasn't a disappointment. It wasn't his fault he didn't meet the standards of what everyone else wanted him to fit under. He could easily meet standards he made for himself.

"You know how to make your Mama proud, Tsuna? Die like Mama."

He shook the memory out of his head. He hated this. He hated remembering. He would not remember. He would not remember that day. It didn't happen…it never happened.

Tears fell.

It never happened. Mama didn't say any of that. She didn't try to kill me.

His nose was running.

Dammit. She didn't do any of that!

"Shit!" someone hissed. Wiping his nose, Tsuna looked around for the source. It was a boy's voice. Oh! It was that foreign boy in his homeroom, Gokudera. The one who hated him. A lot. And told Tsuna about it. A lot.

He was being chased by some serial cannibals….and dear gosh, was he throwing dynamite at them?Was he insane? He was going to kill those poor cannibals! Well, they kind of deserved it for trying to eat so many people…oh no!

"Fuck!" Gokudera cried as he tripped on his own feet. Three or four cannibals leapt in the air, hands ready to grab at him. "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"

"HIIIEE! What do I do?" Tsuna cried. "What do I do? What do I do? WHAT DO I DO?"

He looked at a bottle of alcohol rub – surprisingly he managed to find four bottles in the different houses he visited - sticking out of his bag. He stared at it. "It worked the first time!" he cried.

He unscrewed the cap and threw at the cannibals. Time slowed as he watched the bottle and the cannibals soar through the air. He prayed that bottle would hit them and drive them away. He prayed his lack of athletic capabilities wouldn't hinder his attempt futile.

"AUUUGH! MY EYES! MY EYES!"

"WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?

"WHERE IS HE? WHERE IS THAT BOY?"

"STOP, STOP YOU'RE BITING ME YOU FUCKING IDIOT!"

"Run, Gokudera!" Tsuna cried as he zipped up and put his bag on. Gokudera didn't need to be told twice, within seconds he was on his feet and was running toward Tsuna.

He thumped Tsuna on the back when he reached him, almost causing the smaller boy to fall over. "I OWE YOU MY LIFE!"

"W-w-what?"

"WHAT IS YOUR NAME?"

"T-tsunayoshi S-sawada."

He suddenly did a ninety degree bow. "SAWADA-SAMA, FROM THIS DAY FORTH I WILL FOREVER BE INDEBTED TO YOU AND SERVE TO ONLY YOU!" He looked up at Tsuna, a large smile on his face. "I'll follow you forever! Command me to do anything!"

"WHAT?" Tsuna all but screamed, and then he looked over at the cannibals. They were up on their feet, they were heading for them, and they were looking very angry.

"RUN!"

…*…

There was two Harus. The shell of Haru and the spirit of Haru. The spirit of Haru felt numb. She felt like she was at the dentist, but instead of numbing her gums, the dentist numbed her entire body. She felt like she was there, but wasn't.

The shell of Haru…was just a shell, really. Mostly shell Haru just followed whatever Fedora Man told her to do – she rarely listened to what spirit Haru had to say. Not that spirit Haru minded. She didn't feel like going back in there. Facing reality. Coming to terms with what happened.

I killed my parents.

So she stayed away from her body. She embraced the numbness that came over her. She let shell Haru do what she want, close to never intervening. She let shell Haru fight as much as she wanted – shell Haru was really good with a knife. Spirit Haru would probably become an emotional mess if she even held a knife.

I stabbed them to death.

Both Harus looked at the large building. It looked empty. Windows were shattered and glass was everywhere on the floor. Fedora Man looked at her and said, "Watch your step. Be careful."

…My parents tried to kill me.

She nodded. Shell Haru was always careful. But shell Haru didn't like to talk much. Spirit Haru did, though. She wanted to ask Fedora Man what his name was, what he was doing here, why he saved her. Spirit Haru stared at her left arm, where a stump occupied where her hand once was – however shell Haru seemed to like hiding it underneath loose long-sleeved shirts. Spirit Haru looked away, her stomach clenching. Looking at the missing hand made her sick.

It also made her remember. But mostly, it made her wonder how Fedora Man managed to fix it up for her. Nonetheless she was grateful for it.

My father tried to eat me.

Spirit Haru liked Fedora Man. He seemed nice –he did save her after all. His hair was a bit weird, but he was nice. But shell Haru didn't care. She didn't talk to him; didn't ask him anything, she was just…there.

My mother tried to choke me to death.

Oh, it looked like they were in store for another fight with the zombies. Spirit Haru figured out which kind of zombies they were. They were plague-ridden zombies – the fast ones. The ones that didn't go through rigor mortis. The ones that weren't actually really dead. She watched a movie that zombies like that. It was an American one. She couldn't remember the name, though.

Regardless, I still did it.

Both Harus hated that kind of zombie. Shell Haru pulled out her knife. Spirit Haru disappeared. She didn't want to watch when shell Haru used the knife. It reminded her of what happened two weeks ago. With…them.

I still…killed them. I still killed my parents.

…*…

"You're much more than I expected!" Gokudera admitted. "For putting yourself on the line, I'll place my life in your hands."

Tsuna squirmed in seat on the couch. They managed to get away from the cannibals, hiding out in an empty house. This, luckily, had no dead bodies or cannibals. After scouring the place for food and water, they barricaded the front door and were currently resting up in the living room. It kind of disturbed Tsuna of how quickly Namimori was turning into a ghost town. At this rate he wouldn't be surprised if the only inhabitants were only he, Gokudera, and a bunch of cannibals.

"T-there's no need for that!" Tsuna cried. "Really, it's fine. Being classmates is just fine."

Gokudera blinked. "What do you mean classmates – oh! You're the useless kid in my class!"

Tsuna sighed. It seemed that no matter where he went that title followed him around. Oh well. "Yeah, I'm 'No Good Tsuna'."

Gokudera shook his head vehemently at that. "You're not no good! You're awesome, Sawada-sama!" he cried. "You saved my life! That definitely isn't useless. I'll blow up anyone who says otherwise!"

"W-where did you even get that dynamite from?" Tsuna said wearily. This guy…he was too much. Tsuna found himself missing the delinquent who proclaimed his hate for him and expressed it through beating him to a pulp.

"I found a building filled with some and took it," he unbuttoned his jacket and revealed rows and rows of dynamite attacked to the inside of it. "They're really helpful. I've killed lots of UMAs with 'em."

"U-umas?"

"Yeah, Unidentified Mysterious Animals – UMAs"

"Oh. Say, Gokudera?"

"Yeah?"

"Do…do you know why everything is like this? I mean, why isn't anyone helping us? Shouldn't there be, like, troops or something coming in and helping people?"

"Those lazy bastards probably don't even care about whether or not we die. They only care about their fucking money, probably. Bastards."

"Oh." Tsuna stared down at ground. The thought depressed him. Would he have to live like this all the time? Suddenly he felt very guilty. As silly as it was, somehow he felt his wish for society to just disappear was the cause for all this.

His eyes flickered to his tattered school uniform. He hadn't changed or bathed in a long time. Wow, he didn't know how long it had been since this had all started. "I'm going to check if they still have any water and clothes, and then wash up."

"OK!" Gokudera replied, standing up. "I'll search the kitchen for some more food."

But then, they both tensed heard something being unlocked. Tsuna froze. Gokudera swore.

They forgot to barricade the back door.

"If a man is destined to drown, he will drown even in a spoonful of water."

Yiddish proverb.