Haha, I have to say, reading all your guesses about the killer's identity was really amusing! Not in a mean way, but it was interesting to see how people analyzed the past events and what sorts of things different people noticed. But, I'm gonna tell you right now that the killer is… someone who won't be revealed by me yet! That will be revealed in… the future chapters ;)
I took a suggestion from a reviewer, Lightning515. From now on, I will make it more clear whether I am in the future or the past by denoting it with 16 at the beginning of present passages and 26 at the beginning of future ones. Hope this helps clear things up!
16
Reborn was a little peeved when he woke up the next day. Part of the reason was that the sun had already risen—his usual routine began with him waking up just before the crack of dawn, however early it may be. Another part of the reason was because he had had the strangest dream, something about him shooting himself in the head, and it left him with a searing headache. And the last part of the reason was that he had failed to do his duty of standing watch the previous night.
But probably the main reason he was so angry was that the girl and Mukuro had disappeared.
Colonello as well was a little peeved when he woke up. Part of the reason was that it was half past five, and the sun had just barely risen. His schedule commenced with him rising exactly a half hour after six. Another part of the reason was because Lal still had not texted him, saying that she forgave his sorry excuse for a brain. And the last part of the reason was that he had failed to do his duty of standing watch the previous night.
But probably the main reason he was so angry was that Reborn was pointing a gun in his face.
Colonello fought his urges to pounce on Reborn and lay him out flat on the floor and pummel him to a bloody death.
"Why. Did you wake me up. So early."
The gun clicked as Reborn took the safety off.
"Please explain to me why Rokudo Mukuro and that girl are gone."
"And I should know why?"
"You were sleeping right next to the door."
"And this insinuates what?"
"You are a top-notch soldier who was also trained in the same Stealth and Assassination class as I was. The noise of the door opening and closing should have been more than enough to wake you up."
"Right back at you."
Reborn sighed imperceptibly, stowed his gun away, and put his fedora on his head.
"We've slipped."
"It's sad, hey."
Reborn walked to the window. The young sun cast a silhouette—tall, slender, and black.
"It seems like as we age, our skills deteriorate, hey."
"We're only 23."
"Hey, 23 doesn't last forever."
Reborn took a silent breath just as his phone began vibrating. He looked at the caller ID, fully prepared to ignore the call if it wasn't important.
Incoming call
Sawada Iemitsu
Reborn tsked.
"What's up?" Colonello asked, noticing the annoyance on Reborn's face.
"Iemitsu," Reborn replied, distaste lacing his voice. "After all this time… he calls now…"
"Still on bad terms with him?"
"I'm on bad terms with everyone. Shut up and let me take his call."
Before Reborn could even say hello, that annoying voice cut over him.
"Yooo, Reborn, how're you doing?"
"What do you want," Reborn said flatly. "I'm in no mood for your retarded mumblings. And I do hope that you are sober right now, because I believe that last time you called me while inebriated was quite irritating and made me shoot my phone out of sheer frustration."
"Yeah, yeah, don't worry, I'm sober. You can ask Lal. She's right next to me."
Colonello perked up.
"And if Colonello's there, tell him Lal's still pissed."
Colonello deflated. Reborn smirked.
"What do you want."
"Well, not much! Just want to check up on my cute son."
"You can call Nana for that."
"Nana thinks I'm still in an area without reception!"
"I will go to an area without reception for calls from Sawada Iemitsu."
"So mean today, Reborn!"
"Like I said, I'm in no mood for your moronic antics. Please get to the point."
"Alright, alright, you spoil-sport. Listen, don't tell my cute son this, but I'll be coming home in a few days."
"May I ask why?"
"…because of reasons."
"You realize that every time you come 'home' you bring trouble with you, don't you?"
"Yes, well, this time, the trouble is—well, it's uhm… very troublesome. Hasn't Timoteo told you about it yet?"
"…Oh," Reborn deadpanned. "I understand now. So I guess this means that my days as a therapist are coming to a close finally?"
"Yep."
"And yet despite this, I will have to continue seeing your good-for-nothing son."
"He's not good-for-nothing! He's cute and cute and also cu—"
"Goodbye."
Without further ado, Reborn ended the call.
"Hey, what was that about?"
Had Reborn been a normal, weak-willed person with average discipline and composure, he would have let out a long, long groan. But being Reborn, he simply readjusted his fedora a little more tersely than usual and began to polish and repolish his gun.
Finally, after his gun was gleaming like the morning sun, Reborn raised it eye-level.
"Timoteo's got brain cancer."
Colonello quickly opened the window so Reborn could point his gun out of it.
"I have to train Iemitsu's good-for-nothing son to be the next leader of the Vongola Police Department."
As Colonello laughed at Reborn's misfortune, bullets went flying through the window.
Blowing the smoke away, Reborn muttered, "I can't tell whether I'd prefer to be a therapist."
It was May 8, and Tsuna, Gokudera, Yamamoto, and Dino were in the middle of having one of Nana's delicious breakfasts when the doorbell rang.
"I'll get it," Nana said.
As she hurried away, a skip in her step, Dino started waving his fork around to get the others' attention.
"You know," he said through a mouthful of scrambled eggs, which promptly went flying onto the table. "Whoops, sorry."
"Weren't you ever taught to not talk with your mouth full?" Gokudera seethed.
Dino shrugged and gave him a lopsided grin. "Anyways, you know, Gokudera, I never thought you'd get along with everyone so well."
Gokudera's fork made a loud bang as it hit the plate violently. Dino quickly apologized.
"I-If I can ask as your concerned teacher, why did you agree to come?"
Gokudera muttered something under his breath Dino wasn't quite able to catch.
"What's that?"
"He said he's lonely!" Yamamoto laughed, clapping Gokudera on the back so hard that he choked. "Isn't that right, Gokudera?"
"NO," Gokudera snarled.
"Whoa there—you could stab somebody with that fork if you keep flinging it around."
Begrudgingly, as if he dearly wanted to stab somebody with his fork by flinging it around, Gokudera sent the prongs into a woeful slice of bacon.
"I came because of the Tenth."
"What?"
"The Tenth."
Confused, the other three exchanged glances with each other.
"Him."
Gokudera punctuated this word with a less-forceful jab that was accompanied by an air of respect towards Tsuna, who squealed and toppled off his chair.
"You mean Tsuna?"
"You mean Sawada?"
"I mean the Tenth."
Dino blinked a bit as Tsuna re-situated himself. "Why are you calling him the Tenth? Sawada, are you some sort of long-lost descendant to a throne that you never revealed?"
"No!"
"He's the Tenth because he's the Tenth," Gokudera said gruffly. "Like how this idiot there is baseball idiot and that idiot there is the Bucking Horse, he's the Tenth."
"I'm not an idiot—"
"Tenth is Tenth because he diffused the tenth bomb."
Dino blinked.
"That's surprisingly… anti-climatic."
Yamamoto laughed. "Oh, I get it now. You're just too shy to call us by our real names, so you came up with these cool nicknames for us."
"NO. And what part of baseball idiot is cool!?"
"Thanks, I feel so touched!"
Before Gokudera could lunge across the table to grab the sharpest object in the room, Tsuna hastily squeaked, "SO I WONDER where mom is, because she's taking a long time."
"Why don't you go see while I, uh," Dino said, snatching the knife from Gokudera's reaching fingers, "handle this knife masterfully by twirling it like a baton—oops!"
The knife went flying across the room, but was caught deftly by a man suited in black.
"No need," he said. "It's just me. I was talking to Nana."
"Reborn!"
Reborn tipped his head in acknowledgement, casting sharp black eyes over the foursome.
"I never thought that my good-for-nothing client would have so many friends over at once. Or have so many friends in the first place, really."
"R-Reborn!"
Reborn tossed the knife back onto the table.
"Tsuna, come with me. I need to talk to you for a bit."
"R-Reborn?"
"Is that the only word you can say?" Reborn snapped. "Ever since I stepped into this room it's been 'Reborn! Reborn! Reborn!' Are you my fanclub? I don't need more men in there. I already have enough women on my tail as is."
"Would you like some coffee, Reborn-san?" Nana asked gently. "You seem rather crabby today."
"I would love to have some coffee," Reborn answered. "Immediately, if possible. I feel a withdrawal headache starting up. Now, you. In here. With me. Alone."
"R-R-Reborn, uh…"
"Stop stuttering, or I'll really shoot you," Reborn said as he led the way to the adjacent room. "I am in no mood for your stupid, good-for-nothing words. In fact, I feel that it is an incredible waste of time even looking at your pathetic face."
"T-that hurts."
"That's unimportant. Now, that letter."
Tsuna flinched.
"I don't have time to talk to you about it now, because I have to run and see Timo—someone as soon as possible. I'm free on May 10, and you will be, too, so we will meet then, at 5 p.m. Understand?"
"O-Okay."
"Good. And keep your nose out of trouble. I don't want more on my plate than there is already. Now, get back in there and eat your breakfast."
Nana had a fresh cup of coffee waiting for him, brewed to perfection. Graciously, he accepted it. She giggled and handed him a small sprig of purple violets in a vase of water to 'spruce up his office.'
As he left, he allowed himself a small smile while breathing in the glorious fumes of the coffee.
Addiction is a powerful thing.
Now, he thought, frowning a little at the violets in his hands. How to walk with a vase of violets while simultaneously still looking cool?
School was off that day, so the three boys lounged around the house for a bit without Dino, who apologetically said that he had to report to the police station. Yamamoto, after calling his father, said that he could stay for however long while Gokudera just muttered something about how his parents wouldn't care and wouldn't know anyways. Knowing that family matters were a touchy subject—at least to Tsuna—Tsuna didn't question Gokudera's, instead pulling out a few video games. He started them up and gave the two controllers to his two guests, just watching them play and listening to their idle conversation from his comfortable perch on the bed.
"How come you call Dino-sensei 'Bucking Horse,' Gokudera?" Yamamoto probed.
"Because he's Bucking Horse," Gokudera grunted. He swore violently and made rude gestures at the TV when his character blew to bits.
"No, but why is he Bucking Horse?"
Gokudera gave and aggravated sigh and tossed the controller to Tsuna. "We used to train at the same police station."
"You what?!" Yamamoto yelped, killing his own character.
"You what?!" Tsuna squealed, toppling off his bed.
"What?" Gokudera said, completely confused.
"You trained at a police station? Since when?!"
"How else do you think I became an expert at diffusing bombs?" Gokudera said as if he were disgusted by Yamamoto's stupidity. "I was trained at Tokyo Headquarters ever since I was eight, when I ran away from home."
"You ran away… from home? And moreover, when you were just eight?"
"Yeah. I ran, and my doctor—some sleazebag called Shamal—introduced me to this old geezer called Timoteo, who's the head of Japan's police institution today, and I got to start training as a potential police/detective/whatever. I ended up becoming a bomb specialist, as you can hopefully deduce."
"Wow… that's amazing, Gokudera-kun," Tsuna breathed in awe. Gokudera spluttered something about how he wasn't that great and turned beet red, and Yamamoto laughed.
"And so, how does Dino-sensei play into this?"
"Heard about him all the time when I was there." Gokudera scowled as if remembering such things brought distaste to his mouth. "'Bucking Horse broke another fire alarm, Bucking Horse managed to blow up the entire gun-stock, Bucking Horse managed to set Timoteo's underpants on fire…'"
"What?!"
"Exactly. Whoever this Bucking Horse was, I thought that he should definitely be kicked out, or strung up over the highway from the nearest bridge," Gokudera growled. "But then…" he said, a strange expression passing over his face, "That man came."
"That man?"
Gokudera nodded. "He is the elite of the elite. He is the world's best assassin, best officer, best detective. He has an IQ of over 200, and he has never failed in any of his missions. The Ninth—"
"The Ninth?"
"Will you stop interrupting!" Gokudera howled. "How can you not know who the Ninth is? The Ninth is Timoteo, you dumbass! He's the Ninth head of Japan's police institution like I just said, and you had better remember it!"
"Sorry, sorry!" Yamamoto hastily said. Seething, Gokudera apologized to Tsuna for being so loud and grudgingly continued his story.
"He came upon the Ninth's invitation to tutor that good-for-nothing Bucking Horse Dino. From what I heard, his training was hell. He made him scale Mt. Fuji in just a day—"
"Wow!"
"—and forced him to dodge bullets while blindfolded."
"That's nuts!"
"What a fun game!"
"Tsu-kun! Do you want lunch?" Nana poked her head in to say, fortunately saving Yamamoto from Gokudera, who was making lunges to wrap his fingers around Yamamoto's neck. "I made some soup and some sandwiches."
"That sounds great!" Yamamoto cheered. "Your food is always awesome, Sawada-san."
"My," Nana said, blushing. "What a nice child. Wait here, and I'll bring it up."
After lunch, Yamamoto said that he should probably head out and help his father. Gokudera claimed that he needed to do some maintenance on certain objects (Tsuna thought he heard dynamite, but he couldn't be sure), and he left after bowing a dozen times to both Tsuna and his mother for their kindness and hospitality.
Tsuna did some grocery shopping for Nana, and the rest of the day passed uneventfully, a much needed reprieve from the week's tumultuous events. Before bed, Tsuna checked his blog to see that he had two new comments—one from Reborn and one from the strange visitor BBBB.
Comments:
[You had better not forget about our appointment tomorrow. Also, tell Nana that the coffee was very much appreciated. —Reborn]
[Tsunayoshi-kun, I hope you are doing well! ! ! ! ! ! I think we will be able to meet each other soon! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! Actually, we already have, but you just didn't realize~ Sorry for inserting so many ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! I am on a sugar high right now! ! ! ! ! ! See you soon! —BBBB]
XxX
BlogChat900: [RR] has started chatting you [ST]
RR: Tsuna, stop.
ST: huh? i was just aboutt o go to bed
RR: Yes, I know. That is why I told you to stop.
ST: oh. ok. whats up?
RR: Is that how you would talk to someone older than you?
ST: Sorry! It's just htat I… well never mind. What do you need?
RR: The second comment on your latest post—have you any idea who it might be?
ST: no, sorry…
ST: i was wondering that myself
ST: he sort of just commented out of the blue and i was like lol what's oging on
ST: it's the first time hes talked to me
ST: i mean, well, commented
ST: ive seen him lurking around the chat sometimes
RR: Ah.
ST: ?
RR: Nothing. I was simply making an observation.
ST: about what?
RR: An observation observing that there was simply nothing to observe.
ST: uhhhh, ok…. can i go to bed now? i'm really tired
RR: No. I have another question.
ST: …ok
RR: Who else knows about this blog?
ST: uhhh…. No one reall,y orher than you and apparently BBBB
ST: I havn't given it out to any of my firends
ST: ugh, friends, sorry. I'm kind of tired
ST: there are a few moer who read it but i've enver met them, so
RR: Fine. And whatever happened to confidentiality?
RR: You went on and on about how you wouldn't mention names on your blog and then all of a sudden, you start throwing names left and right.
ST: Oh
ST: whoops
ST: uh
ST: i can… fxi that if you want…
ST: I just sort of fortog in the heat of thisng
ST: like everytihnd ghta'tsl been happenting recenging
ST * like with everything that's been happening recently
RR: What a useless, incorrigible child you are.
ST: …
ST: oh yeah, how are the cases going?
ST: with you know… Yamada's
RR: Still looking for more clues. I am waiting eagerly for our meeting tomorrow. I have a feeling that it will throw some light on some things.
ST: …How?
RR: Go to sleep.
ST: …
ST: Are you sure? dont you have other weiosnt?
ST: questions
RR: No, it is fine. I hardly think that you would be able to answer them in your state. Or in any state, really.
ST: somehow, i feel like that might have been an insult
ST: but alright… see you tomorrow, then, reborn!
ST: gnite
[ST]has logged off
[RR] has left the chat
Tsuna, after leaving, decided he would read the next day's letter. He brought out the crinkled papers, smoothing them out. May 10. Tomorrow.
May 10
From May 8 to May 11, you were in a coma. The bombs had gone off, and you paid for it, as did many of your friends. Not all of them survived; in fact, the majority lost their lives. Dino was severely scarred. Yamamoto and Gokudera made it through. Critically injured, you spent the next three days in a deep sleep, recuperating.
I have nothing to say here, other than… that I have one regret. Even after almost losing my friends, I never told them how important to me they were. I never expressed my gratitude. I was always too late. I don't want you to be like this.
People say that it is never too late, but it's not true.
Remember this.
Cozart Enma was a shy boy of sixteen, with burning red hair and eyes that made him the subject of vicious bullying that often left him with more bruises than he could count. They called him names like demon and monster and told him that red eyes brought bad luck. They invited him to jump to his death from the nearest bridge, and more than once, he found himself standing on the railings of one, looking down at the river or a highway.
More bullying material was extracted from his past: he was an orphan living in a small institution called "The Simon Orphanage." He barely had any items to his name. He possessed no special skills other than that of being worst at everything; he was poor; he was weak; and he was alone.
The last statement wasn't completely true. He had six friends, all of whom had lived at one point at the same orphanage as he did, though they were all older than he and in college or with work; seven if he counted the man running the institution: Genkishi.
Genkishi himself had been raised at the orphanage by Enma's father. Due to several unfortunate events, Enma's father and mother had both died, leaving the orphanage in Genkishi's hands. He'd been in charge for about eight years so far. He was kind to the orphans, especially to Enma, stating often that he 'owed his life' to Enma's father and would never let the children down.
Enma hated his life at school but loved it at what he called 'home,' where he was accepted and loved by both Genkishi and the younger children. He had long found equilibrium between the two sides of his life, and he was comfortable with it, despite having to bear with the abuse from school.
His equilibrium was ruined May 9, the day a box full of bombs arrived at the door of one of the classrooms in Shimon High. He was filed out of the school along with nearly all the students, crammed onto the soccer field, and then forced to watch as one building of the school went up in an explosion so violent it rocked the school grounds.
That's how he found himself being transferred to the nearest school: Namimori High.
It was May 10, and Enma found himself looking at a nearly empty classroom. The goof of a teacher—Dino, was that his name?—grinned at him apologetically and gave him a brief description of what had gone on—something about a bomb scare, identical to the one at Shimon. Only here, the bombs didn't explode.
"And your name?" Dino-sensei prompted.
"…"
"Sorry, what?"
"…Enma."
Dino laughed and clapped Enma on the back. "No need to be so shy! Say it loud and proud!"
Enma shrank back, blocking the view of the classroom with his messy bangs. "…"
"Uh, well, okay," Dino said, a little perturbed. "Well, class, this is Cozart Enma! Please take care of him. Your seat is… next to Yamamoto! If you could raise your hand, Yamamoto."
"I'm Yamamoto! Nice to meet you."
Enma gave a stiff nod and sank into his chair. He clocked out for the majority of the lessons, simply observing his surroundings and flagging the people he thought would benefit him to avoid.
A fierce-eyed girl sat in the center of the room, her black hair tinged with a dark blue. He pegged her as someone who was uninterested in the affairs of others and who would neither bother him nor help him.
In the rightmost back corner, there sat a surly-looking boy who looked as if his nose had been broken on more than one occasion. Pops rippled through the air as he cracked his knuckles. For a split second, their gazes met, and Enma quickly averted his eyes, making his presence even smaller. That was one to definitely be avoided.
Directly to his right was a small, mousy looking boy with chocolate brown eyes. He looked weak. Enma figured he didn't have to worry about his neighbor.
He went through the remaining students, five others, taking note of the silver-haired kid in the back who sat with his legs propped up on his desk.
Then, for the rest of the day, he zoned out, only coming back to reality when Dino started talking about something mildly interesting.
"Well, since… it looks like no one is really paying attention to me, let's learn about something different! I bet you all have thought once in a while, 'ah, I really messed up that time! I wish I could go back in time and redo it. But that's impossible, you think. There's no way to do that. But, I think it's possible to build a time machine."
Enma noticed the boy beside him with brown hair straighten up suddenly in his seat, eyes riveted on Dino. Why was he so interested? Enma shrugged and turned his attention back to Dino.
"But first, to build one, we would need something that could move at the speed of light. By applying Einstein's theory of relativity, this is how you could explain time travel theoretically. And this is a theory based on improbable, but still possible, facts.
"A black hole… if one were to create a black hole, I think it's possible to time travel. Black holes have an immense gravitational pull. It's a force that swallows everything. What would happen if you were swallowed by a black hole? There is a theory that time travel is possible through the time-space distortion caused by the black hole's enormous gravitation."
"Dino-sensei, I've heard that time travel should be impossible," the fierce-eyed girl spoke up. "If we could temporarily travel in time, what kind of inconsistencies would occur? For example, if you went back into the past and changed things you wanted to change, in the future that you changed, there would be no need to go back in time. And then, what about the you that used the machine in the first place? Wouldn't he not exist anymore?"
"Well," Dino said, smiling. "That is what you call a time paradox. There are many scholars who use that theory to negate time travel, but there are ways to not create a paradox or inconsistencies. And that… is what we call a 'parallel world.'
"The inconsistency lies with the idea that there is only one past and one future. But a parallel world can create numerous branches of the past and the future. But in developing a new past, you would be creating a new future, but it wouldn't influence any other futures that you might have. For clarification…"
Dino began writing on the board:
A (present)
1) action 1 = B future
B future goes back to A
2) action 2 instead of action 1 = C future
B future still exists while C future continues independently
"In this way, you prevent inconsistencies. There…"
At that moment the bell rang, and with a smile, Dino dismissed them.
"Okay…"
As soon as the bell had rung, Enma slumped into his seat, ready to spend the next hour alone, just resting his head on his desk. He closed his eyes.
"Hey! Enma, right?"
"Huh…?"
A hand settled on his shoulder. His eyes opened, blinking a couple times before settling on the friendly athletic boy who sat behind him. Yamamoto gave him a grin, eyes locking with his.
"It's lunchtime, now," Yamamoto was saying. Enma blinked. He found that everyone, upon seeing his red eyes, had a reaction—a flinch, a disgusted look, averted eyes. Every time it happened it hurt a little, reminding him that he was a freak. But not once had Yamamoto broken eye contact with Enma. Confused, the redhead searched for signs of hidden disgust, but he couldn't find any.
"Do you want to eat lunch with us? My friends and I usually go up to the roof to eat lunch, and since you're new and all, I thought that maybe you'd want to have company or something like that."
How had he known? Or rather, why did he care? No one had for the entirety of Enma's school life, but all of a sudden, now…
Was it a ruse to isolate him in order to bully him? Or was this boy just being friendly? Since he was new, no one should know about Enma's past… there was no reason, no real reason to begin bullying him right away, but not many people needed a real reason for abuse.
"Quit poking your nose into everyone's business, baseball-freak."
Enma looked up to see the silver-haired boy glaring at him. Silver hair. Was it natural? His red eyes clashed with the other boy's green ones. Yamamoto laughed and slung an easy arm around the other boy's shoulders; he sputtered in disgust and leaped away.
The shyer brunette came up to the group and cleared his throat a bit. "Y-you don't have to if you don't want to. But, we just… want you to know that you can if you'd like. But we're not pressuring you or anything like that!"
Enma looked at Yamamoto for a split second before turning his eyes to the brown-haired boy. There was an earnestness in his eyes he had seen only in those of his father, a look that warmed him and made him relax in this strange environment. The boy offered him a small smile, and Enma let his eyes drop to the floor.
"I'll come," he said quietly. "If that's okay with you all."
Yamamoto's grin nearly split his face in two.
XxX
"It feels so nice up here!" Yamamoto said, breathing in deeply. The wind whisked around them, playing with their hair as they filed out onto the rooftop.
"I just hope that Hibari-san isn't around," Tsuna gulped, looking around nervously. Yamamoto laughed and slung his arm around Tsuna's shoulder.
"Let's eat over there," Yamamoto suggested, pointing to the rusty fence. "We'll have an awesome view of everything."
As the other three settled themselves down, Yamamoto moved until he was standing right next to the fence. With a small smile, he looked over the edge.
"Y-Yamamoto? What are you…?"
Yamamoto leaned his arms against the top of the fence. The wind played against his black hair and the sunlight struck a strange gleam from his brown eyes. The fence groaned in protest under his weight. Tsuna was suddenly hit by a stroke of anxiety, and he got to his feet.
"Yamamoto?"
The fence creaked. Gokudera had stopped opening his bento, green eyes flickering between Yamamoto and the fence.
"You know," Yamamoto said breezily, "I had a couple of dreams in the past few days."
No one said anything.
"In one of them, I was standing on the other side of this fence with my arm in a cast or something. Somehow, the rest of the class was up here, too, watching me. It was really weird, very real, almost as if it were happening to me, but just in a different world… like an alternate world. And, in the other dream, I was standing on Namimori Bridge."
Namimori Bridge. A location that had suddenly become a popular suicide spot in their quiet town. The previous year, two people had leaped to their deaths by jumping off the bridge and into the Namimori River. Tsuna shuddered suddenly.
"It was really strange. It was autumn time, and I was watching all the leaves flow down the river. I was standing on the rails, and Tsuna was there—you were screaming bloody murder at me to not jump, haha!"
Yamamoto's laugh rang emptily in the wind. He moved his eyes to the horizon.
"Someone shot me in the leg, but somehow I was still standing on the edge of the railing. There was blood dripping from the bridge and into the river. And then you, Tsuna, you were screaming all of a sudden, and I turned around and you were bleeding from the arm."
Yamamoto moved away from the fence, and Tsuna released a breath he didn't know he'd been holding.
"Well, that was just a dream. I'm hungry now. Sushi, anyone?"
A strange feeling left in the air, the four of them continued in silence until Gokudera spoke.
"And the ending?"
Yamamoto paused. "What ending?"
"On the school roof and on the bridge. What happened in the end?"
There was such a long silence that Tsuna squirmed uneasily in his spot.
Finally, Yamamoto laughed and smiled. "Well, in the first dream, I was saved by Tsuna."
"And the second?"
The question came from Enma. Gokudera was staring at Yamamoto with such an intense look that Tsuna thought Yamamoto would burn up and away. But the other boy simply flashed his teeth in a carefree grin and shrugged.
"I jumped."
Silence reigned, overcome only by the even lonelier noise of the wind rushing past their ears. Those two words chilled them to the bone for reasons they could not explain. Tsuna shivered, mind jumping to his letter, to his future self, wondering if Yamamoto's dream had any connection to what would happen in his future.
But was it really his future, now? Thinking upon what Dino had explained in class that day, was it really still his own future? Since he was already changing the present—or his future's past—shouldn't the contents of the letter be changing accordingly? Or perhaps, it should disappear entirely? But instead, it hadn't changed at all…
An alternate universe, alternate timeline… didn't that mean that once he started changing his past now, he would have a different future?
And consequently, didn't that mean that nothing would change for the Tsuna who had sent him his letter?
So that meant…
…where 26 year old Tsuna was in the original timeline, everyone was still…
…dead?
Tension having fallen, Yamamoto and Gokudera had returned to a one-sided bickering contest as Enma silently watched, legs pulled up to his chest, arms wrapped around them. A small smile flickered on his lips, eyes seeming to light up—a beautiful, deep crimson, more radiant than the dying sun. Gokudera, deep, deep down, was enjoying himself, and Yamamoto's infectious laugh rang out into the air. Normally, his laugh would warm Tsuna's heart and bring a smile to his own face, but now—now, it just sent an icicle through his lungs—
Losing all of this… these precious people… was unimaginable.
Tsuna's vision blurred. And himself, ten years in the original future… would continue living without these people? There was nothing Tsuna could do to help him? There was nothing Tsuna could do to prevent the pain and regret…
"—na? Tsuna? Are you okay?"
Snapping out of his thoughts, Tsuna quickly wiped his eyes and gave them a weedy grin. "Sorry… there was just… something in my eye."
"How dare a piece of dirt fly into the Tenth's eyes," Tsuna thought he heard Gokudera snarl.
"Must've been a pretty large piece of dirt!" Yamamoto laughed. "But c'mon, you can tell us the truth, Tsuna. It wasn't really dirt, was it?"
There Yamamoto was again, with his random, amazing perception. Something that future Tsuna surely was missing…
"No, no, it really was just dirt!" Tsuna tried to chuckle. "A-anyways, Enma-kun, do you not have lunch? Do you want some of mine? Mom made too much."
Enma looked shocked for a moment, and then his shoulders drooped. "If… that's okay… I don't want to be trouble…"
"Not at all," Tsuna said, dumping half of his bento box's contents on its lid before sliding it over to Enma. "We're friends, after all—er, I mean, I think we're friends anyways. If-if that's okay."
Enma's eyes flickered up to meet Tsuna's. His gaze lingered for a long moment before his eyes dropped. A small smile slowly rose on his face and he nodded wordlessly.
"Isn't that great!" Yamamoto laughed. "Right, Gokudera?"
Gokudera muttered, "What a pain." But he scooped out a portion of his own lunch and added it to the box as Yamamoto also contributed a few rolls of sushi.
Perhaps Enma also, like Tsuna, had gotten a little dirt in his eyes, for he, too, was rubbing them furiously, and his sleeve came away wet. Head bowed low, he said in a small, strangled voice:
"Thank you."
26
It's going to be alright.
It's going to be alright.
It will be alright.
But Tsuna knew it was not going to be alright as he watched the coffin be lowered into the ground. A few days had passed since the incident. The Varia had all been buried earlier that day. The only one left was Reborn, the man he respected with his life… the man who taught him all he knew…
"…Reborn was a great man to all who knew him, mightily respected…"
Wasn't this just so nostalgic? Hadn't he heard lines like these so many times? First, Yamada, then Gokudera, Mukuro, and now Reborn…
His phone beeped.
Ignoring the looks of indignation, the whispers, the glares—Reborn wouldn't care—Tsuna brought out his phone. One new text message. From an unknown sender.
Come to Namimori Bridge. Alone.
Tsuna's head whipped up. Everyone else was listening intently to the pastor's words—except Yamamoto, who also was holding his phone in his hand. Wordlessly they nodded to each other, and they melted out of the crowd, walking side by side, leaving Dino behind.
"It's a nice day, isn't it?" Yamamoto said presently. "Grey… looks like it's about to rain."
"Yeah," Tsuna said.
In almost no time at all, they had arrived at the bridge. It was an old bridge, made of wood with railings on both sides, keeping the inattentive wanderer from toppling over the sides and falling into Namimori River. Over the years, there had been an increase in the number of suicides in this spot, and despite signs and the occasional patroller, they would not stop. Now, the bridge was near-to-abandoned, people viewing it as a thing of bad luck.
It was empty. The river roared beneath it.
"Say, Yamamoto…" Tsuna said hesitantly.
"Hm?"
"I never got to properly say this, but…"
"But I do believe it is time for you to leave."
Whirling around at the voice, they saw the same hooded figure who had caused Reborn's death.
"You!"
"Me. No, no, that will not do at all," the hooded man tsked when Tsuna pulled out a gun. "Not at all. Put it down."
"There's no way I will until I kill you with my own two hands," Tsuna snarled, tears rising to his eyes. "Do you know how much you've made me—everyone—suffer?"
"And do you know how much I have suffered?" the man murmured. "It is too bad, but I plan on living until I exact my revenge."
"What revenge?"
The man shrugged. "You'll find out in due time. As for now, my only preoccupation is your torment… a small penitence for what you have done to me in the past."
"I've done nothing to you!"
"You did everything to me. Now, enough chit-chat. I currently have your mother's house rigged with bombs. Would you like to test my words for truth?"
Gritting his teeth, Tsuna dropped his gun. Why was he so powerless against this man? Again and again, he was always being cornered like this! To the point where he could do nothing but watch helplessly as his friends were picked off one by one.
"Now, then…"
Rain was beginning to fall. How cliché, Tsuna thought to himself bitterly. In times like this did the weather choose to storm.
It was like a dream. Yamamoto was climbing onto the railing of the bridge, water soaking through his black suit. Tsuna was screaming—screaming bloody murder, telling him don't jump, don't leave, don't listen to him. The man shot Yamamoto in the leg. He toppled, nearly falling, but kept his balance. Blood mixed with the rainwater and sloshed down from the bridge and into the roaring river.
In a rush of adrenaline, Tsuna snatched up his gun and fired a few rounds at the man. Blood blossomed from the man's shoulder, but then excruciating pain shot up Tsuna's arm, and he screamed: he'd been shot. He saw Yamamoto look back at him as the man pointed his gun to the side of Tsuna's head. The message was clear:
Jump, or he dies.
It was always like this. His friends, one after the other, throwing their lives away to save his. He, insignificant in the world, was the cause of all their deaths. He, undeserving of their friendship, was forcing them to cast away their dreams, their hopes, their futures.
Yamamoto just smiled at him. And then he was gone.
The man left. Tsuna ran down the bank to the river, calling uselessly for Yamamoto. It was futile. An instant death. Gone forever.
His howls ripped through the wind, muted almost instantly by the crashing river and the pounding rain. Like his screams of anguish were worthless, insignificant, unworthy of being heard by anyone other than himself.
And here was another regret added to his list. More words that would be forever unheard by their intended recipient. Words lost, like his voice in the wind.
"Say, Yamamoto. I never got to properly say this, but… Thank you for sticking with me for so long. I don't deserve it, and you've been such a good friend to me. No matter what kind of things happen to us, you always make it through with me and end up smiling in the end. I've always wanted to say it, but… you're special, you know that? You're like a calm rain that washes away everyone's fears and anxiety. And I really appreciate that. And, I know this is childish of me to say, and it's a little late, but…
"I hope we can stay this way forever.
"As… best friends, you know?"
The above explanation of time travel is pretty much directly taken from ORANGE, by Takano Ichigo, with a few inserts from myself. Actually, it was that explanation that inspired me to turn ORANGE into a KHR version, since the idea of parallel worlds and time travel were essentially the same. I think time travel is really interesting! But then again, one of my friends said that "if there were time travel, we'd already know about it since people from the future would have come to this timeline already."
Saa, who knows? And who knows if time travel will actually be good for us… if we could change the past as we know it, would we be happy? We could stop mass murders, perhaps, like the Holocaust, but then what would happen without that essential piece of history? The event that changed the world? We might end up in an idealized world, one that is perfect and without mistakes, but what life is there in a world like that? Without mistakes, we can't move forward… and being able to simply turn back time to redo anything would lift weights from our shoulders that would otherwise cause us to think carefully about our decisions.
Anyways, I'm getting too philosophical here. Hope this update was fast (and long) enough! WOW this chapter is really long!
And WOW Tsuna's future really... sucks.
...
Yeah, essentially that sums it up. Heheh, I have future Tsuna's ending passage all written up already... and man, was it depressing to write.
Teehee look forward to the next chapter... where the killer will finally make an appearance...
Who do you think it is?
Take care, everyone~
