I'm incredibly sorry for the long wait. And the shitty quality. And absolutely everything else.
It has not been a good month for me.
Anyway, lemme know what KHR fic you want me to update next. I really can't decide myself, honestly. I'll set up a poll on my profile.
When Tsuna swam back into consciousness, he was lying on his side in the recovery position with someone yanking at his hair.
"Aaugh," he moaned, and the tugging paused.
"Neh, Dame-Tsuna," someone whined in his ear, "Get my candy out of your hair!"
"Whuh?" he said, and attempted to sit up. He got about halfway before there was another sharp yank that almost pulled him back down. Tsuna was tempted to let it. "Ow! Why are you pulling my hair?!"
"It's got my candy in it!" the voice complained, and renewed its pulling with a vengeance.
"Owchowchowch stoppit! Why'd you put your candy in my hair in the first place?!"
"Cause it's big like mine, Baka-Tsuna," the kid scoffed, as if it should be obvious. He circled around Tsuna's head, hand still fisted in his hair. "Yours is dumb, though. Things keep falling out unless they're sticky." Another fruitless yank.
How many head wounds am I going to receive today, anyway?! "If you stop, I'll give you candy that doesn't have my hair all over it!"
The cow child sniffed imperiously. "Lambo-san wants grape juice, too!"
"I don't think we have any — ow, alright alright, I'll get some!"
Lambo studied Tsuna's face with suspicious green eyes, then came to a decision. "Okay. If you give me candy and juice."
"Um, can you let go of my hair now?" Tsuna tried.
"Nah."
"But I'm gonna get you the godda — the gosh darn grape juice!"
"I can't, Dame-Tsuna. I'm stuck." Lambo gave another enthusiastic yank, to illustrate his point.
Tsuna whined despairingly into the carpet.
"Okay, Lambo," he said, gingerly sitting up, "Get on my shoulders."
Lambo complied eagerly, unafraid to use his convenient handhold in Tsuna's hair to pull himself up. Tsuna miserably anticipated a long bout with bald spots in his future.
Once he made sure that Lambo wouldn't fall off, and take half his hair with him, Tsuna managed to stagger to his feet. He was still really dizzy, and those black spots in his vision probably were not a good thing, and Lambo was heavy. Sure, Tsuna wasn't about to win any awards in the physical strength department, but even he could lift a five-year-old. He was pretty sure that kids under three feet shouldn't weigh a hundred pounds.
"Lambo, how much stuff do you have in your hair, anyway?"
"Ehhhh… a bazooka, a bunch of grenades, a lunchbox, and lotsa candy. It doesn't get stuck in mine," he taunted.
"That's because my hair isn't as cool as yours," Tsuna said, trying to avoid any maneuvers that would result in any more hair loss. He felt Lambo puff up with pride.
"Uh huh! I bet that even if I tried to get the candy stuck in my hair, it wouldn't!"
"Wait, Lambo, no —"
Much screaming followed, as Lambo attempted to unstick his afro from the candy and Tsuna's own scalp, with little success. Because he was still on his shoulders, all of it went directly into his ears.
This was the scene that Yamamoto encountered when he returned a few moments later, carrying a first aid kit. He blinked once, and then started to shake.
Oh, god, what did I do? Is he gonna go crazy and kill me? Tsuna wondered anxiously. Lambo produced another impossibly loud, nails-on-a-chalkboard screech. If he does, he better make it quick.
If he was lucky, they'd detach Lambo postmortem. If he was being realistic, they'd probably let him drag his corpse around by the hair until his scalp tore off. His mom would probably think it was cute. She'd take pictures. She wouldn't even realize he was dead until he started leaving behind bits of himself on the rug.
"Yamamoto-san…" he called pathetically, and then Yamamoto lost it. He fell down and started howling, managing to startle even Lambo into merciful silence.
"Oh my god, is he dying?"
"No, he's laughing," Lambo said, taking a momentary break from his impressive Nazgul impersonation, "I didn't know the baseball freak could do that."
And, after listening for a moment, Tsuna realized that he actually was. Not the hollow, threatening chuckles from before, but big, heaving belly laughs. Every time he caught a glimpse of the pair of them, heads glued together and gaping, he went off again.
Tsuna started to pout. His suffering wasn't that funny. Lambo had gotten over his helpful mood and was now loudly berating the guy on the floor for mocking him, and none of this was helping his headache.
Yamamoto eventually managed to regain control of himself, slumping against the door with a huge grin and the occasional giggle. "Ah, you're pretty interesting, Tsuna. I think I won't mind staying here!"
"Can you please help me," Tsuna mumbled miserably.
"Ah, yeah," Yamamoto said, as if he had forgotten. He fished a pair of nail scissors from the first aid kit and directed him to sit on his bed, where he began hacking inexpertly at the lump of hair and sugar between their skulls.
Tsuna watched his face intently. Yamamoto's lips were twitching, and he still let out an occasional snort. He liked this version of him much better.
"I like your smile. It's nice," he said unthinkingly.
Yamamoto glanced down at him, eyes already beginning to close off. "I'm always smiling. It's nothing special."
Tsuna gulped. He knew he was digging himself into a hole, but he never fucked things up halfway; he always had to turn the situation completely unsalvageable.
"I meant your real smile, not your serial killer one. I mean, you're really handsome, so none of your smiles are ugly, but you're a lot less scary when you're happy."
Yamamoto stopped, regarding him with narrowed eyes. Tsuna really should have been desensitized to glares, after the day he'd had, but his spine was as firm as jello on a good day and Yamamoto was over a head taller than him, and could probably crush him like a bug.
"Oh god I basically just called you fake please don't hurt me my skull can't take anymore punishment I'm sorry," Tsuna begged, frenzied. "But seriously I think I might have a concussion so maybe hit another part of my body, like my spleen, I don't need that I think, but I'm kind of bad at biology so —"
"Wait," Yamamoto said, and Tsuna's jaw snapped shut so quickly he practically bit through his tongue. His eyes watered, but he bravely swallowed down the yelp that threatened to escape. "You meant that as an insult?"
Tsuna's eyes bugged. "Nonononono, I thpoke withouth thinking, I'm tho thorry —"
"Why are you talking like that?"
"I bith my thongue," he whimpered miserably, and suddenly Yamamoto's lips were twitching again.
"You're kind of an idiot," he mused, and Tsuna glared even as he turned the color of a tomato. "I don't really mind idiots."
"Neh," Lambo whined, after an awkward pause, "could you just cut my hair now?"
Once he was done, about a quarter of Tsuna's hair was missing. It looked like someone had attacked his head armed with nothing but a blunt pocket knife and their own rage. Lambo's afro, of course, had freakish regenerative abilities, and had healed itself, presumably by feeding on the soul that had long since fled Tsuna's body.
"Mah," Yamamoto said, surveying his handiwork, "that should do it."
"Thanks," Tsuna mumbled, disconsolate. Lambo had once again passed out on his bed. Lucky brat. He wanted to be unconscious.
Wait, no, Reborn could read his mind. He'd probably take that as an invitation.
Yamamoto beamed. "Any time!"
"Oh, god, please no," he mumbled, and cringed instinctively at the glance Yamamoto sent his way. "Um… do you know where Reborn is?"
"Ah, he was downstairs. He looked pretty pissed off, ahaha!"
I'm dead. "I should probably ask him where the rest of you guys want to stay."
Tsuna received another odd look. "Why do you care?"
"Uh," Tsuna spluttered, unsure how to respond, "'Cause it's my fault? I mean, it's because of me that you guys are here in the first place, and it's not like you have anywhere to go. I could pay for a hotel or something…" He thought of his current savings, all 500 yen, and quickly reconsidered. "Actually, I can't afford that, so maybe you could stay here? I don't know if we have room for everyone, but we could work something out, I think." It's not like his mom would care. She'd probably be thrilled that he was "making friends."
Yamamoto's stare brought him out of his musings. Did I say something wrong? Is he gonna kill me?! "N-not that you have to stay here — !"
"It's fine," he said roughly, looking away. His face was flushed. Maybe he was catching a cold? "Thanks, Tsuna."
"N-no problem," Tsuna said, oddly flustered.
"Where's Narrator staying?"
"He's posing as my tutor, so he'll probably stay here, even after you guys find other places," Tsuna answered, gathering up the empty tea cups and heading for the door. He paused, looking back questioningly. "You coming, Yamamoto-san?"
"Ah, yeah," Yamamoto said, giving him another plastic smile. He followed Tsuna a little too closely.
Intimidation tactics, Tsuna thought grimly.
The second they arrived in the kitchen, Reborn was up and holding him in a painful headlock. "I told you not to be yourself, idiot!"
"Owowowow!" Tsuna yelped, trying desperately not to drop his mother's teacups, "And I told you that I'm not gonna seduce anyone!"
Yamamoto helpfully relieved him of his tray, narrowing his eyes. His grin seemed a lot toothier than before. "It's fine, Narrator, you can let him go."
Reborn stilled for an instant, and then gave Tsuna one last painful noogie before releasing him. "Go fix your hair, brat," he ordered. "It looks like shit."
Eager to flee, Tsuna complied, desperate to find his mother.
He found her outside after ten minutes of frantic searching, despite the fact that she'd been in plain view of the kitchen window the whole time.
"Ara, Tsu-kun! What did you do to your hair?" Nana asked, looking up from her herb garden.
How is that her biggest concern?!
"Lambo put candy in it and Yamamoto cut it out," Tsuna eventually said.
"Yamamoto is one of Reborn's exchange students, right? That was very nice of him," Nana said, beaming. "I'm so glad you're already making friends!"
"E-exchange students?" he asked weakly.
"Un, from Italy. They'll be staying with us when they arrive! Isn't this great, Tsu-kun?"
Tsuna stared, lost for words. He had been wrong to expect his mom to do the sane thing and kick them all out. And she looked so excited to have company, almost like the last time his dad came home…
"Y-yeah," Tsuna said, giving her a weak grin. "I just came down to let you know that Lambo likes grape juice."
When he returned, Yamamoto's smile was like ice, and Reborn seemed mildly annoyed, which probably meant that pain was coming, and coming soon.
"Uh… it's getting dark, so why don't we go to bed?" Tsuna suggested lamely.
Yamamoto nodded, aggressively cheerful, never breaking his gaze from Reborn's. Reborn just smirked.
"All right, then," Tsuna said, and went to set up a futon for Yamamoto.
It was dark, Lambo, was snoring in his ear, and he was incredibly uncomfortable.
"Um, Reborn-san?"
"What."
"... why are you sleeping in my bed?"
A sharp smack and a pained yelp.
"Go to sleep, Dame-Tsuna."
Reminder that Reborn is not an honest guy. His motivations will hopefully become clearer. He's been lying about something, but it's up to you guys to figure out what~