Author's Note: Another angsty oneshot inspired by a fanart of Reborn, enjoy! Set sometime in the future.
Rating: T
Warning: mentions of alcohol, mentions of violence, angst, yaoi, R27, established relationship, possible OOCness, mixed messages, inspired by Bleach (Ichigo's reflection on his battle with Aizen really got to me)
Summary: Reborn was the worlds strongest hitman; unbeatable, unbreakable, dependable, and invincible. It seemed only Tsuna saw that Reborn was, for all his improbabilities and impossibilities, human.
Contradiction
Tsuna knew something was wrong before he even opened the door.
It wasn't that heart-stopping, hair-raising, war-is-on-the-horizon-and-everyone-is-going-to-die feeling of choking panic and paralyzing horror that hit him suddenly, or the prickly, on edge anxiety that had him clawing at the walls because the room had become a claustrophobic prison he couldn't escape from (both had happened a few times before so he could tell the difference).
It was an ache deep in his chest, filled with sorrowful despair, pulsing and crumbling behind his heart.
Unsurprisingly, he was greeted with darkness when he entered the apartment. The lights weren't on except down the hall in Reborn's study, and the melancholy weighing on his shoulders became heavy enough to slow his approach. He didn't have to knock, as the French doors were open wide, and Tsuna leaned on the doorframe as his eyes settled sadly on his lover.
Reborn was, in a word, impossible.
He was a puzzle trapped in a riddle surrounded by a mystery wrapped in an enigma. He was invincible, unbreakable, indestructible, and unfathomable to allies and enemies alike.
Reborn was also a contradiction.
He felt, he bled, he hurt, he laughed, he yelled, he breathed, and Tsuna wouldn't change a single thing no matter how much it hurt him in turn to see the strongest man he knew slip and fall like anyone else, because it meant he was human.
It was the moments like these that made the brunettes stomach turn with guilty relief because it meant Reborn hadn't lost himself (and worse, he was happy when Reborn trusted him enough to allow himself to be vulnerable with Tsuna as his only witness). It was also moments like these reawakened the startling amount of horrible, all-consuming resentment bordering on hatred he often didn't realize he had for the mafia, for what it cost him and his friends and the people in his life that didn't deserve to suffer like Reborn was suffering now.
His tutor turned advisor turned friend turned lover didn't stir at his arrival, sprawled gracelessly in one of the plush armchairs settled adjacent to his favorite leather couch, jacket hanging limply on the back of the chair, one shoe missing, tie undone but not off, and hat nowhere to be seen.
Tsuna didn't miss the faint smell of alcohol that lingered in the air and his lips pressed into a thin line of worry.
Reborn ever only drank sociably when champagne floated around whatever party he'd been dragged to, and on occasion for pleasure, enjoying a finely aged bottle of imported wine in the comfort of his study.
Tsuna didn't want to think about why Reborn drank tonight, but he had a strong suspicion that was only confirmed when he stepped closer and Reborn didn't acknowledge his presence just yet.
Tsuna was silent as he pulled Reborn's other shoe off, setting the pair neatly next to the hitmans desk, picked up the black jacket slung on the back of the chair and placed it on its rightful hanger in the small closet along with the others, and found Reborn's iconic fedora settled behind the chair he was resting on, quietly placing it on the former Arcobaleno's desk. Leon was curled around an unused coat hanger, keeping vigil over his partner, and Tsuna was able to muster up a small smile in the lizard's direction. At least Reborn was never alone.
Carefully, he settled his hand on his lovers. He tried not to let it hurt when Reborn pulled away. "Reborn…"
Reborn's arm rested over his eyes, casting more otherworldly shadows over his handsome face in the glow of the lamplight, but it couldn't hide the downward tilt of his mouth or the tension in his jaw.
Tsuna sighed inaudibly, knowing a losing battle when he saw one.
Instead of leaving, though, he picked up Reborn's empty glass and wandered to Reborn's decanter of cognac on silent footsteps, appreciating the smell of the aged brandy and pouring himself a glass. He stayed a moment longer, the damning silence following him relentlessly, and settled on the leather couch while placing the glass on the coffee table in front of him without taking a sip.
At this point, the only thing that would help Reborn now was time, and he didn't know how much the fickle mistress was willing to give them before sending Reborn on another mission that would bring them to this point again.
He knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that Reborn hated himself (maybe more than Tsuna knew) for what he was.
In public, Reborn loved intimidating people and quietly but efficiently flaunting his superiority, terrorizing anyone he saw fit and flawlessly using his skills to his advantage.
In private, Tsuna saw what almost no one else did, the self-loathing and disgust that sometimes overshadowed the joy they'd found ("I know how to kill a person with a champagne flute in twenty-seven ways, Tsuna." Reborn once said in a fit of silent rage, words solid and hands trembling as he kept himself as far away from anything lethal as possible, quietly asking how anyone but a monster could be proud of that and breaking Tsuna's heart with every word as he tried to reign in the hysterical, ludicrous laughter at the thought of Reborn shoving a glass of champagne down someone's throat because it wasn't funny).
Even rarer, Tsuna heard the echoes of loneliness in Reborn's voice when he talked about old missions or revealed something from his past, and he suspected the only other person who knew those stories was dead.
After all, many considered Reborn as close to perfect as possible, and Tsuna found that perfection was a lonely pedestal.
It was why he appreciated Colonello's blunt, brash personality, and his friendship-rivalry with the hitman.
His ability to coerce Reborn into childish bickering and (sort of) play fighting kept the hitman from retreating into his untouchable shell and helped ease the edge of sorrow in Tsuna's chest.
Tsuna could remember the look of unmasked surprise on the hitmans face when, one day, Colonello had swung by the mansion to pick another fight with him, only to ask between hits for Reborn to be his best man at his and Lal's wedding. He'd collapsed into a fit of laughter as soon as Reborn was out of earshot because, for the first time in their long rivalry, Colonello had taken advantage of the hitman's momentary lapse and landed a few solid hits that ended in victory.
Needless to say, neither had gotten out of that altercation without their fair share of bruises, but a smug Colonello had ended up leaving with the knowledge that the strongest hitman in the world was going to be his best man along with a rather colorful bruise on his jaw as proof of Reborn's grudging acceptance, but it was a small price to pay.
Later that night, Tsuna took great pleasure in taking care of his petulant lovers split lip, his own curling in amusement and genuine joy at the content he found in Reborn's smile.
Unfortunately, Colonello was only ever around when CEDEF had a light workload, and with all the changes Tsuna was making to the Vongola's standing in the mafia, days off were few and far in between. Without the former Rain Arcobaleno as a distraction, the Varia's increasing workload, and his own guardians busy across the world, really only Reborn was left to take on the darker aspects of what Tsuna was trying to clean up (and something tight and spiteful coiled in his chest because he was the second coming of Vongola Primo, after all, Vongola Decimo, savior of the mafia world), and those were times when Tsuna shared in Reborn's habit of self-loathing.
Tsuna was close to falling asleep where he sat, stuck in between a fitful rest and watching over his former tutor, until Reborn's warm voice, thick with exhaustion and something that twisted the brunettes insides, disrupted the false peace that had settled over the room.
"They were kids."
Tsuna closed his eyes. They always were.
Silence swallowed them again, and the brunette wondered if he'd ever get used to it (the silence was why he always had music playing quietly in the background in his office, or enjoyed the chatter and yelling of his guardians at dinner, or kept his door open to hear hustle and bustle of the mansion as butlers and maids did their daily duties).
His life had been too quiet before Reborn came along, and now the silence was something he never wanted back.
He still hadn't touched his glass.
"They didn't understand why what their parents were doing was wrong." Anger and sorrow laced every word, and he didn't have to look at Reborn to know an arm had curled around his midsection as he spoke, an action Tsuna never quite understood and hated all the same. "Even after what those people did…and they still tried to protect them."
Tsuna knew.
He read the report, saw the damage done, and agreed with Reborn's actions (and hated himself a little more).
That was exactly when he couldn't send Nagi or Mukuro, because he still had some humanity left in him, and no matter how much he didn't want Reborn to go either, he couldn't ask his Mist Guardian's to take his former tutors place. It wasn't lack of faith on his part, but Reborn – reliable, dependable, indestructible Reborn – didn't break when they would have.
He didn't fault the hitman for what he did (the children were in Vongola's care now, getting help, but they'd never unsee the demon Reborn had become in that moment, would forever be haunted by the man with an orange striped fedora and green gun, cloaked in darkness as he mercilessly ended the people that brought him there), but he knew forgiveness was a concept foreign to them both at this point, giving or receiving, and its familiarity had been traded for bitterness and blood long ago.
All he could do now was listen and wonder how people could be so cruel, twisting a savior into a monster.
"Let's go to bed."
This time, to Tsuna's overwhelming, heart-wrenching relief, Reborn didn't pull away when Tsuna reached for his hand, coaxing the former Sun Arcobaleno to their bedroom to sleep (or try to, the brunette didn't think they'd be getting much rest tonight, but if a few nights without sleep was the price for Reborn's devious smirk, he'd pay it in a heartbeat). Strong arms and hands (that taught him and guided him with the same strength used to take lives) wrapped around him, holding him close as if he was the last thread of sanity Reborn had left.
Not for the first time, Tsuna wished his Vongola bloodline could give him the power to take nightmares away, if only for a little while, but for all the joy and wisdom he'd gained in the last ten years forged amongst the misery and pain, he'd never be lucky enough to have that one wish granted.
It wasn't until days later, when Reborn was back to policing rowdy Mafioso with sadistic glee and Tsuna's smile felt less brittle on his face, that they finally emptied to glass of brandy and placed it back in its rightful spot.
It wouldn't be touched until next time, when they played this game of sorrow again.
Author's Note: Hope you enjoyed reading Contradiction! I tried to take on a few too many subjects in this oneshot (Reborn's 'perfection' and self-loathing, Tsuna taking on Reborn's burdens, their struggle with the darker part of the mafia, being human and weighed down, etc) so sorry if it got a little confusing. I didn't mean for it to turn out this way but it did :P
The part where Colonello fights Reborn and then asks him to be his best man was inspired and paraphrased from cywscross's story, Sacrifice. Totally cute idea and I had to add it to this fic.
Read it, it's an amazing story written by an amazing author. I'm serious. I fangirl over cywscross, and you should too if you like Bleach, KHR, HP, or One Piece.