Short story that I came up with during camp :3 Sooooo many plot bunnies. It'll be quite angsty. I'm on a spree lol. Hehe. I apologize for OOC-ness, grammar and spelling errors as well as any part of this that seems to bother you.
Title: Successor
Summary: Pristine whiteness. Clean glass panels. Voices pounding. Is this what they call a mental hospital? He's been living in such an environment for six years. He's supposed to be the successor of a mafia. But what's he doing in a mental hospital?
Pairing: None as of yet.
Warning: Angst, mental disorders, some possible character bashing in later chapters. Dark! Tsuna and possibly Dark! Yamamoto.
Disclaimer: If I owned KHR, I'd be married to Hibari and Fran'd be my boyfriend.
Rating: T for scenes and possible language.
Words: 600 approx.
Glass panes stood stoically, the whiteness of the corridors and each of the rooms sparkled almost fakely. It was like a scene out of a movie... Like a lab.
He jerked up instantly hearing the faint pad of footsteps. Large, wary brown eyes stared out of the glass pane that covered one side of his room's faces. The boy saw shadows of a small group of four men walking towards him. Instinctively, he shrunk back, cowering in his corner. The same white covers bundled around him.
"...one's Sawada Tsunayoshi. Extreme Avoidant Personality Disorder, Nightmare Disorder, Social Phobia, Extreme Social Anxiety Disorder and Multiple Personality Disorder. He'll look like that now, but he won't let anyone touch him. And if you do, he'll turn instantly and start attacking you. Sometimes it's random as well," the green-haired man explained, almost reciting.
The boy narrowed his eyes as this description, honey brown eyes turning into a firey orange-gold. He lunged at the glass, arms pounding at the hard, un-moving material.
"...And that's what happens," the green-haired man continued, looking to the foreign identities beside him. One of the four men - excluding the green-haired one which seemed to know Tsunayoshi extremely well - sported a pitch black fedora, while another's choppy black hair was pulled back into a long, thin plait. The fourth man's wild blonde hair was held back by a khaki sweatband.
Tsuna hissed, hitting harder against the glass.
"...Verde. Is he going to be alright?" the man with the plait asked, watching Tsuna's outbreak with calm, but pitying eyes.
"He'll be fine, Fon. It's normal. He'll go back to normal in a few minutes," Verde replied casually, walking on.
The blonde man pursed his lips, bright blue eyes training on Tsuna. "How long has he been here, kora?"
"Since he was eight, Colonnello," answered Verde quickly, like he'd been expecting this answer as the four men continued to observe Tsuna. "He's fourteen now."
The man in the fedora stayed silent.
"Moving on," Verde continued as if to fill the silence, starting to leave as Tsuna's pounding against the glass started to subside. "Number 80 is Yamamoto Takeshi. Reactive attachment disorder, oneirophrenia, multiple personality disorder..."
Verde's words were quickly lost and unheard as he walked on, Fon and Colonnello following behind him, moving on to the patient in the room beside him, Yamamoto Takeshi. However, the man in the fedora stayed.
A deep, thick voice called out.
"Can you hear me?"
Tsuna's orange-gold eyes narrowed. The neon colour of his eyes dulled, reverting back to a warm brown. He nodded, backing away from the glass and towards his bed.
The man nodded curtly. "You'll make a good boss. We'll raise you into one."
Confusion reflected in Tsuna's eyes as he started shrinking back into his blanket. "Don't come near me," he whispered. "I'm dangerous." There was a hint of fear in his voice.
"But I'm more dangerous." The man in the fedora smirked.
"Reborn?" called Colonnello's voice from down the hall. "Hurry up, kora!"
Reborn's smirk widened, and he pushed his fedora up a little to reveal sharp, onyx eyes. "This won't be the last time, Sawada Tsunayoshi."
