AN: Okay - well, this turned out to be a lot longer and sadder than usual. I hope it answers the questions about Yamamoto and Tsuna's death. Next chapter will be happy fun times again. I already have the last chapter in all its bittersweet glory written out anyway hahaha.
Thanks for the reviews -^- Reading them is the best
"I went to your grave yesterday."
Tsuna immediately froze, unsure if he had actually heard the softly spoken statement or not. The papers he held slipped through his hands, his concentration no longer focused upon being able to hold them.
"H-Hibari?"
"There's a grave for you, in Namimori graveyard. It's next to a bench."
The brunet took a deep, shuddering breath, knowing that he didn't need to, but doing so anyway in some attempt to understand the emotion running through him. He had no idea where this had come from, or what had possessed the prefect to go do such a thing, but some small part of Tsuna was thankful. Honestly, he had, at some point, doubted he even had a grave. The part of him that was the small, bullied child he'd been growing up, the part that was downtrodden and neglected, use to inspire such depressing thoughts in him after his death. The idea that maybe there was no monument to him, nothing nice to remember 'Useless Tsuna' by. That his spirit had simply fallen out of his body, and left the dead husk to rot somewhere, long forgotten in a dingy alley, where it belonged.
At one point, he'd even wondered if his mother had noticed the loss. Maybe instead she went on the same, at some point wondering why she now had so much left over food, but never giving a thought to the missing son she had barely paid attention to otherwise.
Of course Tsuna eventually squashed those thoughts, and with time, had forgotten the deep pain of wondering if he had even been missed. Though certainly none of his classmates had mourned, he at least would have been missed by someone. Even criminals were given graves, so there was no reason that he wouldn't have one either, or so he told himself.
But the confirmation, after so long without definite proof, that there was some physical monument, something tangible to represent the fact that Sawada Tsunayoshi had, at some point, been alive was like a punch in the chest. He floated over to Hibari, sitting next to the grim faced prefect.
"So," Tsuna started, trying to keep his voice even. "What did it look like?"
The prefect glanced at him once, before going back to marking some documents. Despite the apparently dismissal, Tsuna knew that Hibari was simply putting thought into his reply. The brunet had to wonder what sort of expression he wore, to warrant such delicacy from Hibari of all people.
"It's traditional," he offered, a note of approval in his voice. Although it wasn't common, some people, especially those with foreign influences, buried their dead in the western way. "It was clean," he paused, "someone had left fresh flowers."
There was no real significance in this; graveyards always had someone to monitor them, to clean them up and sometimes place flowers where there were none.
"What flowers?" Tsuna asked, pretending that his voice wasn't a little choked and the answer didn't mean the world to him.
Hibari paused once more, a question in his tone when he next spoke. "Sunflowers."
The brunet let out a small, startled laugh. "Sunflowers."
The prefect didn't respond, and Tsuna was oddly grateful for his quiet companionship.
"Sunflowers," the ghost sighed, his voice heavy with bittersweet nostalgia. "When I was little, an old man who used to babysit me sometimes died and we went to pay our condolences. All I really remember was the massive amount of flowers everywhere, all in white." Tsuna smiled. "I told my mum that when I died she wasn't allowed to make it all white and boring, that I wanted something pretty and colourful like sunflowers."
The ghost laughed. "I can't believe she remembered."
"Hn."
Very little was said further on the matter, but if a vase of bright yellow sunflowers turned up in the otherwise spartan disciplinary office a week later – well it didn't need mentioning.
– x –
Middle school in Japan was only beaten in terms of activity by High School. There was always some sort of event: a play, a festival. Tsuna used to love these simply for breaking up the monotony of haunting a place in which nobody could actually see you, but had since been distracted by having someone to talk to. Still, the murmurs he happened to overhear were the last thing he was expecting.
The Bon Festival.
The celebration didn't even fall anywhere in the school year, but in August. Far too late for anyone to mention it before the summer holidays started and already done and over with by the time they came back to school. The ghost boy honestly couldn't tell whether he'd been relieved or not; it was one thing to want desperately to be remembered, but another if that hope was ruthlessly squashed. He hadn't had the chance to find out – and honestly, Hibari's sunflowers (and the ones on his grave, he reminded himself quietly) were more than enough to put that old ache to rest.
Well he hadn't had a chance to find out until now.
It was some grand anniversary of the school – fifty years, a hundred, Tsuna couldn't actually garner which one it was, but the point of it was that the school decided to host its own Obon inspired remembrance. Discussion ran rampant about who should be included in this school wide assembly; from people who died for the school, people who died while attending, those who gave something to it and were now dead, and those who had died within it, too.
The last suggestion was what has Tsuna quiet and contemplative for the next few days.
"Out with it."
The ghost boy blinked, looking back at Hibari, who had stopped walking in lieu of giving him a bland stare. "What?"
"You're... broody." The tell me why or I'll bite you to death was heavily implied.
Tsuna faltered. "It's n-nothing."
He simply was very desperately trying to ignore the fact that yes, he died, and yes he might still be ignored, or worse belittled during the school wide assembly he definitely qualified to be part of and even in death all he would ever be known as or amount to would be Dame-Tsuna and all the new students who had never even met him would still pass on to their parents that hey, did you know some kids died at our school last year? His name was Dame-Tsuna and can you believe it he only fell down the stairs , even though it was not his fault–
And no. He would not think about it, or talk about it, or god forbid, explain to Hibari that he was suddenly overcome with absolute terror that it might possibly be rubbed in his face just how little people had ever cared about him.
"Herbivore," Hibari warned, his mouth set into a frown.
"It's nothing, really Hibari."
And with that, Tsuna floated ahead, adamant in ignoring any further inquires. Nothing, after all, was wrong.
– x –
Of course, Hibari Kyoya did everything in his life with the same ferocity as a wounded animal facing down a bigger predator. With viciousness and an absolute determination to finish the task. So of course if something was bothering the Herbivore Ghost then Hibari was sure as hell going to find out what and bite it to death.
"Herbivore."
"Gah!" Tsuna jerked, the documents he had just finished organising slipping through his hands and falling onto the floor. "What is it?"
"Tell me what's bothering you."
The prefect, like any animal, had no sense of emotional subtlety either.
"Hibari–"
"Now."
The brunet threw his hands into the air, before escaping through the floor.
Of course, it didn't end there.
"Herbivore."
The ghost startled, flailed and fell through the door he had been about to peer through to see if anyone was inside. As a result, Hibari was treated to the bizarre sight of only the lower half of the boy being visible with his arse stuck hilariously in the air. The prefect ruthlessly squashed down the urge to kick it, knowing that he'd be kicking the door instead.
"Get up."
Tsuna scrambled onto two legs in an attempt to regain his dignity as soon as possible, before huffing and shooting the prefect with a glare. Hibari was, of course, unfazed. "What is it?"
"Tell me."
Tsuna's face rapidly went from confused, to incredulous, before settling on irritated and disbelieving.
"No."
"Herbivore–"
"I said no."
And with that, he once again floated away.
For the third time that week, Tsuna was surprised by the abrupt arrival of Hibari, who had jumped in through a window as greeting. He absently rubbed his head where it would have surly banged upon the desk he'd been under if he was still alive. Such an occurrence had been so common Tsuna could still feel phantoms pains, a year after death.
"Hibari," Tsuna started with a frown painting his face, "I'm not going to tell you–"
"You're afraid of the remembrance assembly."
Voice dying, the ghost stared in shock at the prefect.
"W-what? How did you even find out about that?"
Hibari raised one perfect eyebrow. "I am chairman of the Disciplinary committee. All events fall under my purview."
"You didn't know about it before."
The prefect came close to a grumble. "Tetsuya gave me the completed paperwork this morning."
Of course Hibari left everything other than discipline for his subordinated to handle.
"If they don't acknowledge you," Hibari stated with the utmost confidence, "I will simply bite them the death."
Usually his trademark line would get a wry grin or even a laugh from the brunet. What Hibari was not expecting was some mixture of sadness and bitterness to cross the little Herbivore's face.
"You don't have to do that."
The prefect scoffed. "I do what I want."
"Let me correct myself," Tsuna sounded uncharacteristically serious. "I do not want you to do that."
Hibari opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off before he could.
"I don't want to have to force people to remember me, or have to make them say something nice about me, because they won't mean it. And what does it say about me if that's the only way anyone would ever pay me some respect. No," Tsuna shook his head, "I refuse to go on with the knowledge that asking you to make them is the only way my classmates would ever show me an inkling of kindness."
For once in his life, Hibari was faced with a problem that would not go away with physical violence. Feeling oddly frustrated and wanting badly to bite something, he instead forced himself to relax and give the little Herbivore the barest hint of a smirk.
"Hn."
Which was as good as an affirmative from Hibari.
Tsuna let the tension drain from his body, and managed a small, wry grin.
"How bad could it be anyway?"
– x –
Bad. It was very, very bad.
The entire school had gathered in the largest hall of the building. Various bouquets, mostly in white, decorated the hall. A large projection was set up, each slide going on to another dead person to remember.
There had been a speech, Tsuna knows, but he could hardly listen to it while desperately trying not to give into the feeling of hope that had crept up upon him as morning struck. He didn't even know why it was such a big deal – both Hibari and his mother remembered him (or in the case of the former, still knew him) – and he didn't need useless platitudes from classmates about how his early death was so tragic and how much they missed him because Tsuna knew with certainty those would be a lie.
Still, as it got closer and closer to where his own slide should be, Tsuna became tenser and tenser in anticipation. A small speech was given for the subject of the current slide, and as it came to a close Tsuna barely had time to brace himself before suddenly–
There he was. An old school photo took up the majority of the screen, and while he wasn't actually looking at the camera he didn't look half as miserable as he'd actually been in school, which was a plus at least. There was a caption underneath it in the same sharp, black letters that decorated every other slide in the PowerPoint.
His name, his class and the day he died.
"Let us take a moment to remember our lost classmate."
The principle's voice rang clear and solemn across the hall, and all Tsuna could think was that's it?
No speech, or line about how much he'd be missed, or even a comment about what he was like. Nothing besides Sawada Tsunayoshi, 1B.
Tsuna was frozen, stuck in the silence that had fallen upon the assembly.
Why did it even matter? His classmates had never liked him in the first place, and dying really wouldn't change that. Did he really think that he'd amount to more than nothing? That lonely kid who fell down the stairs?
Tsuna swallowed past the lump in his throat, and turned to leave. He didn't need to be here for this.
And just as he was about to leave and shove the memory of this whole incident to the very back of his mind, a familiar voice rang out.
"I'd like to give a memorial about Sawada actually."
Tsuna blinked, as murmurs sprung up around him. What could Yamamoto Takeshi have to say?
Any and all protests were immediately silenced by Hibari, for which Yamamoto shot him a grateful smile. The baseball player stood up, and though he wasn't upon the stage, he could still feel each and every eye upon the room watching him.
I hope you're watching too, Tsuna.
"Sawada," Yamamoto starts, swallows and then starts again. "Tsuna, wasn't really my friend."
It's a horrible start already, but Yamamoto pushes ahead. "But I really wish he had been."
A few people mutter at the statement, but they are easily quieted.
"We were in the same classes for years – most of my life actually. And I was so caught up in friends, and little problems, and baseball that I didn't pay him more attention than 'oh hey, that's the kid that gets bullied'."
Tsuna flinched, but remained rooted to the spot. Hibari glared, and Yamamoto doesn't see any of it.
"I should of paid more attention to him, because Tsuna was an amazing person. He'd come to school, every day no matter what the students or the teachers threw at him. He always did his homework, even if he didn't get it. And he never, ever said a bad word about anyone, no matter how many people said bad words about him." Here, Yamamoto laughed self-deprecatingly. "And when I was most caught up with doing well at baseball, and making sure I didn't let anyone down, and being sad and depressed, Tsuna died."
The hall was silent, as if holding its breath at the blunt statement.
"It was weird, the kid who always was there suddenly wasn't. And I didn't realise just how lucky I was to be alive until someone else died. I mean, it could have been me falling down somewhere and my dad who was left behind and it sucks that a good kid died for me to see through my stupidity, but I can't be more grateful that it opened my eyes and let me see that all the little things that were worrying me really didn't matter."
A few people had considering looks on their faces, and still Yamamoto went on.
"But more importantly, Tsuna taught me about trying even when everyone's given up on you, and trying won't always make life fair. That it's hard being a good person when everyone around you is pushing for something else, but that you should stick to who you are no matter what. And maybe Tsuna wasn't trying to be as deep as I'm making this," Yamamoto chuckled, rubbing his neck. "But Tsuna was a good person, who left behind people, and no matter what anyone said, I think he'd have become someone really special. And I'll live the rest of my life trying to value it, because I know that he didn't get the same chance."
Silence permeated the hall, and classmates were left stunned. It would seem as if the silence would stretch on forever, only for it to be broken by Yamamoto's nervous laughter.
"And, eh, yeah. That's it." He sat down once more.
The rest of the morning passed in a blur, and Tsuna wouldn't be able to hide the tears running from his eyes even if he wanted to. He grinned at Hibari, smile widest it could possibly be, and the prefect quirked his lips back, as if to say 'of course you're more than nothing, idiot herbivore'.
The next morning, if Tsuna had a sly, secretive smile upon his lips, then Hibari didn't comment. Likewise, he wouldn't mention the note he saw Tsuna slipping into a certain boy's desk.
Yamamoto picked up the folded piece of paper, his brow furrowed in a frown of confusion. As soon as he opened it, a wide grin spread across his face.
"Anytime, Tsuna."
Thank you.
