PAIRING: Tsuna & Vongola 10th Gen Guardians
TAGS: Canon Compliant, Post-Ten Years Later Arc, POV Third Person
Dark, Angst and Feels, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Canon-Typical Violence
Fluff, Bonding, Team as Family, Sawada Tsunayoshi-centric
WARNING: Not Beta Read
It starts like this: Tsuna's hands shake.
Tsuna's hands shake whatever he does, shake even when he isn't doing anything, and shake even when he always does everything he can to not acknowledge them if at all possible. Tsuna's hands shake the most when he has nothing else to do—can't find anything else to do anymore but face the fact his hands are still his even if they don't feel like his anymore, even if he doesn't want them to be his anymore. Tsuna's hands shake when he hides them in his pockets, shake when he hides them in his back or on his lap, and shake still when he curls them into fists or intertwines them tight so they'll stop shaking.
Tsuna's hands can't stop shaking ever since he came back from the future.
Tsuna's pills and gloves in his pockets look like they crush him under their weight, threatening to bring him to his knees any second now to never stand again. Tsuna's ring around his finger looks like it pains him, burns him, like it eats at his finger until it'll fall off, like it's a festering wound from which the rot will spread to the rest of him. Tsuna doesn't look at them, not at his pills or gloves or ring, let alone touch them, not if he can help it at all.
Tsuna tenses when Reborn calls his name with that particular tone of his voice, the one he uses when talking to Vongola Decimo, with no intention of letting Tsuna not answer him back. Tsuna flinches whenever Reborn takes out his gun, and widens his eyes and forgets how to breathe when it's so much as vaguely pointed in his direction, never mind Reborn hasn't needed to shoot him with Dying Will Bullets ever since he got the pills.
When Tsuna gets in Hyper Dying Will Mode for the first time since he came back from the future, he freezes. For a split-second his fear at the sight of his flames overpowers his Dying Will whole, his flames erratically flickering to the tune of his distress. They pulse out of him in waves, washing over the others, chilling them to their bones, their skins crawling and their hearts lurching in their throats.
They wash over Reborn too, and he flinches.
Tsuna can't bear touch anymore, flinching away whenever anyone so much as brushes against him like their touch burnt him. He still allows the touch of the people closest to him, but he tenses under it and never reciprocates it anymore. Tsuna especially avoids any kind of touch that'd have anything to do with his hands, whether giving it or receiving it. He keeps his hands close to himself and always out of reach, and always ready to jerk them away and even more out of reach before anyone can even have the chance to touch them.
Tsuna doesn't sleep anymore, and whatever little sleep he manages to get is restless. It's filled with nightmares that wake him up and keep him from getting back to sleep more often than not. Tsuna cries himself to bones-deep exhaustion at night more often than not, curled and hidden under his blanket, choking on his sobs to be as quiet as he can, and still sleep doesn't come to him.
Tsuna killed someone, and his hands can't stop shaking.
He curls on himself, hugging himself tight with his shaking hands, his fingers digging in his sides. Tears pour down his cheeks, and his broken and strangled voice is barely more than a breath when it slips past his lips. "I can't do this anymore…"
Yamamoto doesn't wrap his arm around his shoulders on their way to school anymore. Instead he carefully takes Tsuna's hand in his, so slowly, his grip loose and his touch feather-light.
Most days that's all Tsuna can bear, but on the good days the high-strung tension of his muscles relax, a little, enough they're not about to snap anymore. On those days Yamamoto holds his shaking hand in a tight and grounding grip, brushing his thumb against the back of his hand, all the way to Tsuna's seat in their classroom.
"Let the Tenth rest for a little while," Gokudera tells Reborn. "If anything comes up, come to us first and don't let him know. We'll take care of it on our own. I'll take care of it on my own."
"Don't be so naive," Reborn dismisses him without a second thought. "It'll only hit him all the harder when he'll inevitably have to come back to this side of the world, won't it? Letting him turn soft won't help him either."
"And making him bear anything more right now will only—" he snaps his mouth shut and grits his teeth hard, curling his hands into fists. He bows. "Please, Reborn-san. Just for a while, it won't be enough to turn him soft and endanger him. Just give him a short break. I'll handle anything that might come up in the meantime."
Reborn chuckles. "You're bowing but you're not asking at all, are you?"
"Yes," Gokudera says without missing a beat, still bowing. His voice doesn't falter. "I'm the furthest thing away from asking, Reborn-san."
Lambo seeks out Tsuna first rather than Nana for anything and everything under the sun that gives him the excuse to do so, but especially for comfort. He jumps in Tsuna's arms or lap, ignoring the way he flinches and tenses, wailing at the top of his voice. He kicks at him and struggles wildly in his hold until Tsuna holds him back properly, or pulls at his arms until Tsuna properly wraps them around him.
He only ever stops needing comfort after Tsuna melts in the embrace, holding him close against him, only ever stops needing comfort after Tsuna stops crying in his hair, "I'm sorry" and "I love you" and "Thank you" tumbling from his lips over and over again.
"Sawada!" Ryohei calls out, catching him in the hall. He runs to him, and briefly stills his hand midair before he can rest it on his shoulder. When Tsuna allows it with a small smile, he squeezes his shoulder tight, his hand lingering as he pulls it away.
"Hey, Onii-san. Is everything okay?"
"What do you think about jogging with me, Sawada?"
"Eh?" Tsuna hurriedly waves his hands in front of him. "No way! I—I mean, you know I won't be able to keep up with you, Onii-san! I'll just hold you back."
Ryohei laughs. "I don't know about that to the extreme, but we'll run at your pace, Sawada! I thought we could go either before or after dinner."
Tsuna blinks again. "Dinner? You want us to run at night?"
"It clears your head really nicely and really eases your mind, trust me. It extremely always makes me sleep like a baby! So what do you think?" He holds out his fist to him, grinning from ear to ear, and though he looks hopeful, there's no pressure in his eyes for him to accept.
Tsuna's throat closes up a little, but the smile pulling at his lips is soft and warm. He bumps his shaking fist against Ryohei's. "Yeah, okay. I'll give it a try. Thank you."
"Sleep," Hibari says, tripping his foot and making him fall on the couch of the reception room. He walks away to sit at his desk, Kusakabe stepping in to give him a blanket. He nods at him before walking out of the room.
"Hi-Hibari-san…?" Tsuna calls out uncertainly.
"Sleep. I'll wake you up when the lunch break is over."
"I…"
Hibari looks up from his papers when he doesn't move, gripping the blanket on his lap. There's assessment on his face as he takes him in, then a brief flicker of confusion before the slightest tilt of his head. "What can possibly happen to you here?" Tsuna widens his eyes, his breath catching in his throat. "I'll be here until you wake up and leave. Go to sleep, little animal. I won't say it again."
He looks back at his papers but Tsuna keeps looking at him, then at the couch he sits on, then at the blanket on his lap. He holds it tighter, curling his fingers in it, trying to swallow past the lump in his throat. When a sob slips past his lips, Hibari doesn't comment on it.
"Okay…" he breathes out. He dries his eyes with his sleeve, then lies down on the couch, covering himself with the blanket. He laughs, a small laugh, wet and shaky with tears, but genuine, grateful. "Thank you, Hibari-san."
Chrome sits with him outside Kokuyo Land, one of his shaking hand cradled in both of hers. She sits and listens to his silence, her hands warm around his, sits and listens to him talk, her hands squeezing his encouragingly, comfortingly, sits and listens to him cry, tears of her own dripping on their tightly clasped hands.
Mukuro sits with him outside Kokuyo Land in Chrome's body, and talks to him. Tsuna listens to tales of people with blood on their hands who found a way to live with it, to move forwards with it, listens to tales of people with blood on their hands that made them just that, people able to get their hands bloody and had or needed to get them bloody, without it necessarily making them any less of good people who cry and hurt over the blood on their hands.
Tsuna listens to tales of people with something worse than blood on their hands, tales of people with monstrous hands who've done monstrous things with them, and yet found their hands could still be gentle and caring and loving, found people who were still willing to trust their hands to be able to be gentle and caring and loving still.
"Not all who sees themselves as monsters are necessarily monsters," Mukuro tells him. "Sometimes being good simply means being ruthless and merciless. Has to."
"And not all who sees themselves as monsters are necessarily seen as ones by others too," Tsuna says softly, squeezing his hand tight, tight, tight. "Not by everyone."
It starts like this: Tsuna's hands can't stop shaking ever since he came back from the future, and everyone notices. His Guardians notice.
Tsuna curls on himself, hugging himself tight with his shaking hands, his fingers digging in his sides. Tears pour down his cheeks, and his broken and strangled voice is barely more than a breath when it slips past his lips. "I can't do this anymore…"
His Guardians cradle his hands in theirs, holding them tight and protectively, and softly and warmly all at once until they stop shaking.
His Guardians wipe his tears away, cupping his face and keeping his head up so they can look into each other's eye.
"Okay," they say, promise in their voices. "Then you won't have to anymore."
Why would he?
There's seven of them apart from Tsuna himself, and they're all but too willing to do it in his stead.
This isn't what it ends up meaning: Reborn doesn't believe their resolve will withstand putting it in practice.
He would know the weight of killing someone, let alone in cold-blood, let alone in complete indifference, for the pure necessity of needing them to stop breathing then and there rather than later. He'd know how it weighs on your mind, on your soul, how it becomes part of it, scarring it, and making it something else, something new you'll never become familiar with in the same way as with the first shape your soul had. Making it something less too, for most people.
They have it in them, but for how much not all of them are civilians or were ever civilians, for how much Mukuro has already killed, Hibari thrives in violence and seeks it out wherever he can find it, and how Yamamoto is a natural-born hitman, actually pulling the trigger, or even picking up the gun already with the intent to pull the trigger is not such an easy thing to do. Not when the person at the other end of the gun isn't being a threat to you, not when he hasn't done anything to you beyond possibly making it someone else's problem to kill later if left alive now. It's as innocent as you get in the mafia, and for how much Mukuro has already killed before, none of those people were innocents in his eyes.
Reborn should have known better.
There's killing to not be the one ending up dead, and killing because you want the other person to die. In the former case there's only so far you can go before getting the job done, only so many lines you can cross before you have no reason to anymore. Instinct—survival instinct in this case—is finite like that, pulling the brakes for you and making you turn around the second you removed the threat.
The feelings driving you to do the latter though, not so much. Not love, and devotion even less. It's all commitment—unconditional loyalty to cross as many lines as you'll need to before you even ever come across the first one, and it's all the easier to walk past them once you do come across them.
Their resolve withstands putting it in practice. They pick up the gun and their hands don't falter. They pull the trigger and they don't flinch at the sound of it. They watch the blood pooling at their feet and they don't look away. They don't look back either as they make for their next target.
Their resolve withstands putting it in practice so easily, it's fascinating to see. It's horrifying to see. It's promising to see.
It's a glorious sight to witness, and Reborn smiles.
This is how little it changes things: Tsuna still doesn't want to become Vongola Decimo, and is still made to remain the heir to Vongola. Tsuna eventually still goes through a second Inheritance Ceremony, this time real and successful.
Tsuna still becomes Vongola Decimo.
That's fine.
It isn't, of course. It angers them and they resent it, hate and despise everyone that had a hand in it, but that's something they weren't ever going to be able to stop from happening. Tsuna is Vongola Decimo and they're all mafia now, and will never be able to be anything but mafia for the rest of their lives from now on. So be it.
They couldn't stop that from happening, but they can make Tsuna's reign a smooth and safe one. Can make the mafia obedient to his reign. Can remove any threat to that objective before Tsuna ever becomes aware of them and needs to deal with them himself.
They can make Tsuna the Vongola Boss with the least blood on his hands in history.
They will.
This is what it ends up meaning: Tsuna, of course, still ends up with more blood on his hands than what he first started with. If for no other reason than he was never going to let his Guardians bear that burden alone, so of course, Tsuna still ends up with more blood on his hands, for them, which is all the reasons he needs.
This is what matters: his Guardians have so much more blood on their hands.
Tsuna, of course, doesn't fail to notice it. How could he? They made him a promise he knew right then and there they'd keep, and he's never failed to notice the blood on their hands ever since then, when he could only apologize through his tears over and over again, relief, gratefulness and grief alike tearing him apart.
His Guardians don't try to hide the blood from him either. They let him help them wash the blood off of them, let him be the one holding their hands this time, the one making sure they rest and sleep, making sure they have someone to listen to them and talk to, and the one wiping their tears away.
So Tsuna's smiles bleed with sadness and the warmth in his eyes is pained and hurting, which matter, of course, but this is what matters more: Tsuna bears the weight of his pills, gloves and rings, and can look at them and touch them. Tsuna is Vongola Decimo and acts as Vongola Decimo, and it doesn't leave him a raw, gaping and bleeding wound. Tsuna doesn't tense at the sight of Reborn's gun, and doesn't flinch when he points it at him without ever having the intention to shoot like he's always liked so much to do. Tsuna looks at his flames and takes comfort and strength from them, finds them warm and gentle. Tsuna hugs them back, seeks out their touch and melts under it, holding on tighter, snuggling closer. Tsuna sleeps through the nights.
This is what matters the most and makes everything worth it, to the Guardians at the very least if maybe not to Tsuna too: Tsuna's hands don't shake.
A/N: I'm an absolute sucker for utter, absolute and unconditional devotion, and you all should be too.
This is a bit funny though because I was actually thinking about how I'd love to write the 10th gen, and Tsuna specifically, actually thriving as Vongola Decimo and Vongola Decimo's Guardians for once, and see how that'd look like. You know, just them really being in their elements and loving it and enjoying it, and being happy that's what their lives have become. But then they're still miserable here lmao? ? Idk what to tell you guys, pretty sure I'll get to write them happily being mafia one day, but clearly today isn't that day lol.
I hope you enjoyed the story. Any and all review are appreciated.
Thank you for reading!
- Hope
