Disclaimer: I do not own Katekyo Hitman Reborn.
Stolen:
I indulge him. I should not, but I cannot say no to the one whom I cherish most. I allow him to fight his battles on my rooftop with that man who does not belong here. That man who attacks him as none other ever has, harms him, draws his blood. Every crack of his weapon against the boy's porcelain skin is like a gouge in my walls.
There is little that I can do to avenge him, but I do what I can. A spill of liquid conveniently leaked from a pipe, flowing across the floor as he walks down the hall; a door that swings outward of its own accord, just as he approaches; inanimate objects pelting him as he enters a room... It eases me to see that hint of a smile upon the boy's face at the embarrassment of his opponent.
None of these deter that man from coming, is, until one day, he did not show up on the rooftop. I should have been so ecstatic that the stones practically hummed. Why wasn't I? The intruder was gone, but he had taken my boy with him to some far corner of the world where I was not. There, the boy would stay in the care of that man, one who was incapable of providing the same love I gave. There, I cannot greet the man with an inconspicuous pole sticking out as he passed by, or a loose stone beneath his foot during battle. There, I cannot help my dear at all.
My (Nonexistent) Heart Unbreaks:
With that boy's absence, the troublemakers have become bolder. Not just the students who attend here, but outsiders as well. Their goal seems to be to make use of his absence to cause mayhem, to fight on my grounds, to demolish me block by block.
Wherever I turn my gaze, there are manipulative women, inappropriately dressed students, and strangers dressed in uniforms that are not associated with this school. There are new additions built every night: a battle arena that sucks up precious amounts of my energy for its large lights; a large tower to attract lightning that scars my boy's beloved napping grounds; turbines that splinter my doors, shatter my windows, and demolish entire classrooms. Once my love returns, I know he will make them pay for the disrespect and damages put upon me, but when that is, I do not know.
Lo and behold, as soon as these thoughts make themselves known, a familiar figure strides through the gateway. I know his face so well I can see—even in the darkness of night—the anger he feels. Violence on my grounds is against the rules, but he is the exception to them—he is always the exception to any rule. To be able to see that godly figure smite those who oppose him is a sight that will be burned into my memory for as long as I stand.
Suddenly, a feeling of shame rises within. Look at me! Wrecked, broken tiles and smashed windows along every face of my being. How can I let him gaze upon me when I am broken and dirty?
However, the shame and self-loathing is soon banished from my mind upon his closeness. Pure joy engulfs me at the sight of him after all those long, lonely days—I lost count of how many. There seemed little point in keeping track of the days we were not together—it would only increase the despondent aura that had surrounded me since his absence. So much happier it would be to keep track of only the days we were together. Tonight, I can start the count once more.
It was a joy to see him disciplining the intruders. None of them were a match for him. It was worth being trespassed upon and broken into to be able to witness that wondrous being and his loving devotion once more. That he had returned to me, that he would defend me with such resolve, that he would take on the whole of the enemy—my supports could melt from it all. The anger upon that face and emanating from his entire being is so very endearing. Murderous intent never looked so appealing on any other person.
Column of Support:
I cannot uproot myself from the foundations upon which I was built, but I am there for him any way that I can. I moved the mines beneath his gliding feet to other locations so that nothing would maim those precious limbs. I softened the ground beneath him so that his beautiful face would not be grazed by the rocks beneath. I was the soft ground upon which he—even when taken by surprise—gracefully fell when the monster shot him with a beam. I was the wall upon which he leaned his body when he stumbled so fluidly it seemed intentional. I was the column he held when his weariness took hold. Should he be on school grounds, I am there for him, looking out for him, making sure everything is suited to his needs.
Restored to Beauty:
After the tumultuous affairs of the past week, I had begun to feel extremely run-down. The women who caused my state of dilapidation had people cast illusions over me to hide the damage from the eyes of the students and staff. Even so, I felt that one person could see through the illusions, and could see how I was no longer in pristine condition. I did not want him to gaze upon me with those intense gray eyes—not the way I was. I was miserable whenever I assessed my own condition, and knew that he could see all my faults. I would no longer be the school sparkling with beauty in his eyes.
I despise those women for ruining my state of being, the school that child knew and loved. I did not thank them when they restored me to a complete state; I only despised them more for the pain they caused. He made rounds of the school, assessing the repairs made, and deemed them acceptable. A great draft flowed through the building as I inhaled air from outside. I was the school he loved again. Only then did I enjoy his eyes upon me once more.