Author: Ri-Ryn
Chapter: La Perla Santi e La Ballata Dimenticato (The Pearl Saints and The Forgotten Ballad)
Word Count: 3,201
Rating: M* (Content suitable for Mature Teens)/ +T
Disclaimer: Katekyo Hitman Reborn belongs to Akira Amano.
Warnings: Severe/coarse language! and depressive thoughts/themes.
A/N: I HAVE A POLL ON MY PROFILE, YOU'RE ALLOWED UP TO 12 VOTES: Please Do So! Thank-you everyone for the 21 reviews that I received for the last installment; chapter 9 was so intense! Sorry for taking so long to update: I HATE school sometimes, you know? Wow, I love the emotion flowing through Reborn's last line. Also, there is a sensual scene in here, but it IS NOT YAOI. Okay? You'll have wait for "Society, Shackles & Syndicates" for them to be that kind of attracted. Enjoy Chapter 10~
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It was a familiar scene: the family, their shadows connecting to his, and the fissures followed by the voice.
"See, this-"
That voice needed to shut-up.
"No," Tsuna interrupted, this entire nightmare was incredibly stupid after what the Vongola Famiglia recently experienced, "they don't deserve me." His eyes trailed the shadows connected to his. "Do you not see how it's there shadows that feebly seek comfort in my own? And," Tsuna crouched, running his fingers through the crevice by his feet, "these fissures that separate us?"
The Vongola Decimo sneered in the direction of the voice, "I couldn't be more thankful."
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Tsuna groaned in pain as his eyes opened to the darkness and Dr. Mantua turned around. "Don Vongola!?" The physician practically leapt to the incapacitated brunette's bedside. "Can you hear me? Are you in pain anywhere, even mildly?" There was a small click, "Can you follow this light for me? ...Damn it! Of course you can't, you're blind! What light!?"
Tsuna's mouth quirked upwards at his hysterics before frowning again, "I'm fine. How is everybody else, Lucio? How long was I out?'
Lucio flinched. "Don Vongola, I-"
"It's alright with me if you want to stay Battista Mantua." Tsuna's head turned to the side where he heard the scared man's voice. "Right, my Sun Guardian?"
Dr. Mantua's eyes widened in surprise. "Y-ye-yes!"
The Decimo smiled fully, "Then I'm the only one who needs to know. As far as the Vongola are concerned, you've been Battista Mantua since birth?"
I can just imagine him vigorously shaking his head, but-
"What of the family, my guardians, the mansion?"
Battista sighed, pulling a chair close before settling himself. "We lost about seventy-percent of the Vongola. The Vulpiani brought their entire family. In the week you've been unconscious, we've buried all of them in our cemetery."
"…How many?"
The doctor's brow furrowed, confused. "Well sir, about seventy-"
"I don't want a percentage," Tsuna's voice was tense and he closed his eyes tightly, "how many people lost their lives?" Because of me, damn it.
Battista hesitated. "We lost 1,125 people sir from our original strength of 2,000. 500 didn't fight and 375 survived the battle. Thus, 875 Vongola personnel remain; all of the Vulpiani were eliminated."
"And them?"
"I can't tell you."
"Why not?" Tsuna shot back, heart clenching in his chest.
"We don't want to worry you."
"Get over it." Tsuna's blind glare sent a shiver up Battista's spine. "You're going to tell me. I'm not in the mood to remain ignorant."
The physician fidgeted with his watch, giving into the suffocating pressure his boss faced him with: there would be no compromising on this.
"Diva," he started slowly, "had a head injury, but I was able to reverse most of the damage. However, she lost a few memories from her childhood and about five-percent of her reaction time. Renz will have scar tissue that will need to be removed from his healed crucifixion wounds but is otherwise fine. Fuuta has a broken left arm that is healing up nicely now, and has recovered from the infection that came along with his compound fracture."
Battista stared at the minute and hour hands of his broken wrist watch, ruined in his panic to administer aid to the Don a week ago. He didn't plan on fixing it, choosing to wear the dead time as a blaring reminder to his failure to the Vongola Famiglia head.
"Signore Machiavelli's legs are paralyzed. One of the Vulpiani injured not only his stomach but spine." The doctor gave a bitter grin to his boss. "He's quite adept at using his wheel chair and as authoritative as ever. He's already started manor restoration with it currently at eighty-percent completion, courtesy of help from the Cavallone family."
My God, what have I done?
"Lastly," the physician averted his own eyes from Tsuna' sightless gaze, "Andrea. She was on the roof where the helicopter she damaged crashed."
"Please," Tsuna bit his lip, blood spilling forth and the sun guardian made no move to stop him, "she isn't dead, right? She's alive?"
"Yes."
"…But?" Tsuna struggled to move into a sitting position.
"She was a beautiful little girl." Dr. Mantua dropped his head into his palms, keeping his dirty blonde hair clutched between his fingers. "But I wasn't able to erase and heal all the lacerations she received from the burning metal or the third degree burns over three quarters of her body. She also suffered from smoke inhalation and is still recovering in the ICU where we're monitoring her. Tomorrow, she's being moved into the standard admittance ward. In a week after that, she'll be able to come home."
Tsuna leaned back, vaguely registering his sub-conscious attempts to calm his erratic breathing. Every single one of them was injured. A young man with a broken arm caused by another, an older man undergoing surgery that never should've been needed, a young woman left with blanks in her precious childhood memories and at greater risk during a fight, a doctor who murdered his family for Tsuna's sake, an elder gentleman put into a wheel chair before his time and cutting away a portion of his youthful step, and a mere child with more permanent scars than a seasoned war veteran when she is only twelve. 1,125 precious Famiglia lost their lives, and their families lost them.
What the hell? The mafia don reached blindly to his left; he needed something to do, to throw. What the hell is with this situation!? WHY so many lives ruined or dead for me!? He found a get well vase and pitched it forward, shattering it into thousands of glass shards against the wall, scratching the white paint.
My throat, it's burning.
Tsuna reached a hand up, moving a tracing finger right to left around his throat. S-I-N-F-U-L. Oh. The brunette chuckled darkly to the horror of Battista. It escalated to full out laughter, distorted and malicious as he threw his head back. I get it; she was right! All those devilish words she inscribed in me- His sickening response was dying down as Battista watched him grimly. –It's what I am. His hand swiftly traced his scarred throat one more time and then fell back limply against the covers.
"Battista."
The doctor waited a moment more, "Yes sir?"
"Please inform Signore Machiavelli to continue restoration of the mansion, everything is under his continued supervision. And Dino," his caramel eyes narrowed, "to do what he will."
"Right away." The doctor moved towards the door but was halted by Tsuna.
"And Battista?"
The young practitioner turned to his boss, surprised crossing his features at the look of utter remorse marring his boss's face.
"Bring me the entire list of each deceased family member with a short bio on them and their remaining family in brail," he whispered. They deserve this much, at the very least.
Battista chewed the inside of a cheek; hand on the door's brass knob. Why couldn't his Don experience happiness, why must this person be chained by sin to the Earth? Why…why did he have to be assisting his decay into the dark?
Why- "I understand." –does his mouth comply when this wouldn't cease the Don's suffering, but serve as a reminder?
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Dino and Donatello were both sitting, quietly discussing the mansion construction when Battista raggedly entered. Donatello glanced upwards to observe the young man before commenting. "Decimo's that bad, is he?"
The doctor carelessly let his body drop into a recliner, one again cradling his head. "I don't know what to do. It's like he's given up on something; he's broken. And that flame in his eyes, that glaring glint." Battista slowly looked up. "They're taking away what makes Decimo irreplaceable. It's like a rubber band stretched too far. And I'm scared that after this…" Miserably, he returned to his initial position, "He'll snap."
Dino glared downwards, hands tightly grasped together. "What are his standing orders?"
"Signore Machiavelli?"
Olive orbs stay trained on the man. "Yes?"
"He said to continue the restoration of the mansion and that he'll leave it under your care."
"Ah, I see. Very well then, I shall."
"And me" Dino narrowed his eyes. Regardless of what he says, I'm stepping in now.
"Don Cavallone," Battista looked up, "you, according to Decimo, may 'do what you will.'"
Dino blinked. "Is that so?" He muttered. This wasn't good even if it was what he was waiting for. Tsuna had given in; they were close to losing him. Battista was right.
Dino stood, phone out, up and called. The Cavallone boss muffled the speaker, locking gazes with Donatello until the call went through, alerting him with a click.
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If there was one thing Reborn hated, it was being bothered while on the job. The thing he despised more than just being interrupted was if it was when he was "occupied" at that moment.
Like now, participating in a gun shoot-out with members of the Mexican Syndicate constituted, in his books, as pre-occupied.
He ducked behind his adobe-wall house cover, glancing briefly at the cellphone illuminating his slacks' pocket and debating whether or not to answer.
It had better be good.
Sliding it out and sparing a quick glance at the caller I.D., Dino?, he pressed answer, hearing it connect. "Chaos," another well-made shot and a lifeless body fell cold to the ground. "This had better be important, useless-Dino, or it will be a bullet through your head."
"…"
Reborn raised an eyebrow. Usually, even now, a threat like that would coax a reaction out of his former student.
"Reborn, you are to come back to the Vongola in Italy immediately."
"Who are you to tell me what to do, Cavallone?"
Reborn coated the cocked bullet in sun flames, letting it fly. "Chaos shot." The bullet split, nailing the nine grunts who had foolishly attempted to overrun his hiding place.
"Tsuna's been put into the infirmary for the third time, needing stitches, the main house was almost razed to the ground and the Vongola lost about seventy-percent of the family."
The hitman froze. "You're telling me dame-Tsuna's hospitalized, the mansion almost fell, and we lost so many in the time I was gone?" Once in a blue moon did Reborn lose his composure; he was seething and worried beyond belief, even if his voice only reflected his anger. "Where were his guardians!?"
"They were never here." The mafia boss paused, mulling over his next words. "I haven't seen them in months and Tsuna refuses to tell me anything on their location currently or what's going on between them."
Reborn growled through the phone in the back of his throat. "What else?" The hitman glared absently. This job was supposed to take around seven months and he was finished with six.
"It's not my pain to reveal."
"I'll be there in a week."
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Tsuna stared blankly at the ceiling. All of his work was finished, any meetings were postponed, and he wouldn't be able to walk and leave his bedroom until tomorrow with Andrea coming home the next day.
The mafia boss ducked, dodging the bullet for his head and hiss at the crass motion of the stitches in his chest. His hand slid under the pillow, grabbing the pistol and aimed for the doorway.
"A little jumpy, eh dame-Tsuna?"
What the- Reborn?
Tsuna's eyes widened as the dark, slender figure of his tutor sifted through the doorway like a shadow, registering on his contacts. "Reborn." Tsuna focused on the suit clad man as he once again concealed his fire-arm, "Didn't you have a job for another month?"
Reborn glared at his student warily from under his fedora's brim, mentally tracing his student's face from the Italian script carved around his throat to the Roman numeral 'X' burned over his left eye. He could see wounds peeking out from the top of the brunette's night shirt. "I think you have some explaining to do, don't you, Tsunayoshi?"
The brunette winced on the inside. He's furious if he's addressing me by my first name. "I suppose I do."
Reborn grabbed the chair next to Tsuna's bedside, sitting down with none of his casual attitude beforehand. "Well?"
Tsuna looked away. "Don't you dare turn away: face me." Reborn studied Tsuna's face closer this time, noticing the tell-tale raised surface of contacts over his honey irises. He would ask later.
"How much do you already know?"
"Nothing except that the Vongola almost fell," the hitman growled, "and that your guardians weren't here and haven't been seen this past year or so."
Tsuna sucked in a shaky breath. It is not painful. It does not hurt. The brunette reached a hand forward but stopped, rethinking his action and deciding against it with his hand resettling by him on the covers. I know I can trust you, but what does true trust look like now? It hasn't been that long and it's already fuzzy.
Reborn followed and hung onto each movement. What was he about to do before? "Tsunayoshi."
"You remember the Carmona family? And how I sent Chrome and Lambo to investigate? They were caught. We had to save them."
Reborn did remember the Carmona family. Their boss, Giovanni, was an eccentric freak to say the least.
"It was a predictable ambush. That was okay, but everything crumbled afterwards. Mukuro saw Chrome next to Lambo, hanging like carcasses from steel hooks. It set him and everyone else off." Tsuna grasped the duvet tightly, knuckles white. "He was going to shoot them…" Tsuna whispered faintly. "And then I felt it. I killed him; my hand went straight through into his heart."
Reborn's mouth tightened. He had really been hoping to be there for Tsuna's first kill, to prevent that look from haunting his student's eyes. The damage was already done now. "That's not all, is it?"
Tsuna grabbed his right hand, caressing the palm and feeling the slick red coating it like a second skin because of his choices. "They didn't take it well. I broke my promise and the trust they placed with me. Lambo and Chrome cried when they saw me after, Gokudera and Yamamoto were uneasy before turning it into contempt. I most likely shattered any hope Mukuro had gained in the world, and God only knows what I did to offend Hibari. Perhaps I screwed up some hidden expectation he had in me?"
"Continue," Reborn said softly for once, seeing the trembling, the nightmares, and the rejection his student had faced in his absence.
"Then Baldassare Anguissola caught all of them. I never figured out how, but it was the day an assassin made an attempt on me in the shower and Dino visited. I rushed there in Dino's car without backup. He had weapons in the back that I stormed the estate with. When I found them, they were all poisoned. We fought, but before I," Tsuna swallowed dryly, "disposed of him, he spat a green chemical into my eyes."
Tsuna paused. He's going to go ballistic. "Can you lean in closer Reborn, where I can reach you?"
Reborn frowned and complied. Tsuna was-?
"And close your eyes, please." Reborn could hear the begging fourteen year old for the sake of his older, broken counterpart, and slowly let his eye lids fall shut. He trusted Tsuna and wouldn't judge the brunette boss. He had his verdict recited to him too many times already.
Reborn stiffened when he felt hands caress his face gently, smooth and calloused hands. They gracefully traced under his jawline, moving up and mapping from his cheeks to his forehead. As if they were made of glass, Tsuna used his thumbs to delicately feel Reborn's eyes lids, carefully taking note. The soft fingers moved to his mouth, memorizing the shape and width until he went on to Reborn's nose. Swiftly, the hand left his face only to return, lacing themselves through his jet black locks and back forward to his hairline and down his curly sideburns.
Reborn opened his eyes when Tsuna stopped, the black orbs widening in shock.
Tsuna was crying.
"Tsuna-"
"So this is what complete trust looks like again." Tsuna smiled twistedly. "I'm blind now, and it's been around a year since I've actually seen you. If photos didn't do you justice before, they certainly won't now."
.
.
.
What?
.
.
.
"You're blind," he whispered. It wasn't a question as Reborn stared numbly.
"It's alright. Spanner and Shouichi made contacts to help me 'see.' And, I trained with Dino for a month." Tsuna stayed leaning forward where his hands had now unconsciously drifted to desperately grasp at Reborn's yellow dress shirt.
The hitman said nothing, slowly maneuvering himself and Tsuna back onto the bed, him sitting straight up against the headboard with Tsuna curled into his side.
"After that, Fuuta, Diva, Andrea, Renz, Battista, and Signore Machiavelli started acting as my guardians, forming the Notturna Angelo di Scambio with me. They were the ones to take command positions and help defend the mansion when I was sick against Camilla Vulpiani…" Tsuna's voice tapered off as he buried his head into Reborn's side further. "We lost so many Famiglia two weeks ago, and those six came with the Grim Reaper's breath of dying because of me. Is it…"
Reborn could feel his former student's tears soak through, taking note that Tsuna left himself off of his real guardian's list of grievances.
"Is it wrong for me to feel so incensed towards them?"
Reborn softened his gaze further, it turning to a warm worried while focused on the closed door in front of his line of sight to give his student some privacy. He brought one arm up to draw Tsuna in as close as possible. "No, I'd be worried if you weren't by this point."
"Then-?"
"It's okay. Just this once."
And Tsuna crumbled, wailing shamelessly at the suffocating grief guilt and frustration strangled him with, for every life lost or altered because of him, and injury sustained by his beloved Famiglia for him. And just this once, because Reborn said its okay, it was to be expected, Tsuna cried for himself.
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Reborn exited the room two hours later closing the door: one spent with Tsuna's tears and the other him listening to Reborn's heartbeat which ultimately lulled him to sleep. He could still feel the damp spot on his shirt.
Reborn found Dino further down the hallway leaning against a door frame. The boss caught sight of the tear stains. "Did he tell you?"
The Cavallone boss jumped, startled and unprepared for the hitman to break his cool composure enough to shove his fist through a portion of the wall. He quickly withdrew the hand embedded with splinters and wood, absolutely livid.
"Oh, Tsuna told me everything."
Dino hesitated, unsure of how to approach his ex-tutor. "So what now?"
Reborn's cellphone was already out and simultaneously dialing the numbers of the bastards Tsuna called family. He waited for all of them to pick up, ignoring their calls to ask him what was wrong.
Normally, Reborn was always one thing besides composed: classy.
His voice was searingly frigid. "Get your sorry asses here now you little shits."
Classy could go to Hell.
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Chapter 11:
Un Sole Furente di Ira
(A Raging Sun's Wrath)