Bombs weren't really the best type of weapon to kill someone. As a matter of fact, they were an exceedingly bad weapon for killing someone. They were weapons that made a lot of noise and the collateral damage was truly impressive, but they were not weapons made to kill.
This is why Gokudera's first intimate kill was such a shock. He had killed people before, yes, but those deaths had been caused by falling rubble and third-degree burns which meant that by the time those unfortunate sods breathed their last, he was already far away. He had thought he dealt with death fine, certainly better than that baseball-idiot who worked himself until exhaustion and then drank himself into oblivion after bad missions, or Ryohei who became quiet and withdrawn and stopped eating.
He was wrong. The intimacy of sinking a blade between someone's ribs shook him enough to make him stumble and the next mook nearly took his ear off. So he pushed past the disgust and stuffed a stick of dynamite down his shirt. He remembered why explosives weren't really suitable for close quarters when he had to flick blood and brain matter from his hair for the third time in as many minutes.
It was only when the battle had ended and the last wheezing breaths of the dying were faint memories in the wind, that Gokudera broke down. Luckily, he had reached one of the Vongola hideouts before falling on his knees and sobbing his eyes out.
The one to find him was –who else? - Haru. She looked at him sadly, but the underlying understanding about the horridness of taking a life was missing. She looked at him like an angel, innocent and pure and without understanding, but in the most twisted way possible, and she offered him a handkerchief that had faint reddish stains on it.
Gokudera threw up on her shoes.
Katekyo Hitman Reborn isn't in any way my property, I'd be way more wealthy if it was. Sorry for the wait and reviews make writers very happy.:)