Title: "People Like Us"
Summary: They all came from different pasts, from different backgrounds. They were broken, shattered, or close to it. And when everyone, even those they had loved, had given up on their existences; he came into their lives with an outstretched hand. "After all, people like us have to stick together."
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the amazing characters of Katekyo Hitman Reborn! I own the plot of this story, though, but I do not own the original KHR!
Chapter Title: "That One Time"
"The day that he'd been saved by the brunet from the darkness of the underworld."
The end was near. Reborn could tell. His bit of light in the darkness was fading away, going onto the next steps without him. And he would stay there, curled into the black orb that was himself. It had once been what, yellow? Yes, a bright golden yellow that held all of his confidence. But then, it slowly turned black as it was tainted with his sins.
Reborn had survived in the darkness for a long time. Fifteen years he had been in the Mafia, and he had survived. He had climbed the ranks and gotten to the title of greatest Hitman in the world. He acquired wealth, women, even some men, chasing after him, and the trust of higher up people. He had even been asked to tutor an heir to the Vongola, the strongest familiga in Italy.
The heir, the soon-to-be Vongola Boss, was three years younger than himself. Twenty-five, relatively young for a Boss. He had soft brown hair that stuck up in gravity-defying ways, a few strands falling into and framing his face. Big brown eyes always stared at him, as though watching. As though he was looking at the very core of the Hitman, trying to decipher the code.
And Reborn never stopped the small brunet from doing so. It brought a strange feeling to him every time he caught the stare. No, the strange feeling bloomed in his chest every time he saw his student, everything he heard something about him. But what was it? He wasn't able to feel this emotion in his chest. A killer, a murderer, like him wasn't able to feel such a thing.
But when I'm around that no-good person, Reborn thought as he stood above another victim. His eyes were cold and piercing, staring down at the corpse. Blood began to pool underneath it, stopping just before reaching his shoes. It was observed into the white piles of snow in the area, which had piled up over time. More snow began to fall, heavily so, giving a natural camouflage to the mess.
When I'm around Tsuna, that feeling won't leave me alone. Why?
"Reborn! Hey, where are-"
"No," the Hitman hissed under his breath, his dark eyes going wide. He turned quickly, not even trying to keep his fedora on his head as it flew off by force. Reborn couldn't allow his student, the innocent brunet, to see what he did for a living. Sure, the other knew, but it was different from seeing. And when he saw the expression, the shocked, terrified expression, something snapped.
"Tsuna," he mumbled out, voice sounding strangled. He shook gently, not very noticeable, but still there in the open. His pale hand tightened around the gun in his hand, before he lifted it up to his head. How could he live with himself, with that face forever stuck within his mind? With the face of his student looking at him, as though he was a monster?
"Reborn," Tsuna cried out. His face was twisted in horror, brown eyes widened to as far as they could. His legs felt numb, the bitter coldness biting at the skin through the fabric of his pants. But he pushed forward anyways, racing towards the other. "Put down the gun, Reborn!"
The bullet shot seemed louder than ever. It vibrated off of the walls of the alleyway, echoing eerily. The smoking gun in the Hitman pale hand slipped out of his hold, falling into a pile of snow.
Reborn's dark eyes were wide in shock, staring at the point of where the shoulder met the neck. His student had moved the gun away as he pressed the trigger, sending the bullet into one of the brick walls. The brunet was hugging him, arms around his neck tightly as he shook. The brown locks of hair tickled the Hitman's ear as they rubbed against it. The warmth of the body in front of him was foreign, something he didn't remember.
This feeling, he thought hazily. His eyes were have lidded as they grew heavy. Despite the snow melting at his body heat, soaking into the knees of his pants, every bit of him tingled with warmth. With blissful, searing hot heat. It feels as though clarity has been brought to my soul…
"Reborn," Tsuna said softly, his hold on the older man's neck tightening. His eyes were closed as he let the heat shared between them envelop his frame, allowing it to burn him to the bone. "You can't die. I can't let you. If you did, it would mean a part of me would die along with you."
"Why," the dark-haired man asked softly.
"Because you're connected to me. I'm here to save you, and if I can't then I've failed," words continued to flood out of the brunet, words that he didn't even think of saying. He had observed his tutor for a long time, feeling a tugging sensation in his chest every time. A piece of him needed Reborn, and he would allow that piece to take over.
"But why me?"
A soft smile spread across Tsuna's face at the question. He opened his brown eyes and looked up at the gray sky, watching as the white snowflakes fell down slow and soft. "You're one of the people that need saving," the brunet mumbled softly, so only Reborn could hear.
"After all, people like us have to stick together. Wouldn't you agree, eh, Reborn?"
"After all, people like us…"
"…Have to stick together," the Hitman finished, a soft smirk on his face. He was seated at his desk in his classroom, seated in the chair given to him. He leaned back to relax, resting his feet on top of the table, just away from the paperwork he had on it. His students were working silently, pencils scribbling away.
Gokudera was already finished with his worksheet, which didn't surprise the undercover Hitman. The silver-head was a teenage genius. Even in Mafia standards he was considered an over-achiever in academics. The Storm Guardian was a good tool to use, and someone that Reborn could feel at ease with leaving Tsuna with. If it came to it, that is.
The fedora-wearing man looked over at the target, observing him quietly. Yamamoto Takeshi wasn't as smart as the pianist. In fact, he was about as bad as Tsuna had been in his early years. The first year had tan skin, a result of the hard work and practice he put into baseball during the spring and summer. His eyes were amber, and despite people saying sparkling with joy, were closed off with a fake layer of happiness. Even the smile that was always plastered onto his face wasn't real, sketched in forcefully.
The smirk on the Hitman's face grew a little at the sight of the athlete as he tilted his fedora down a bit more. His hand brushed against one of his curly side-burns, which bounced in response. Yamamoto Takeshi, Reborn thought, noting the teen's habits within his mind, Prepare to become the Rain that washes away all of the Family's troubles.
Gokudera looked up from the book in his hands, catching the undercover Hitman's gaze as it turned to the silver-head. A quick nod of the head made the pianist's green eyes blink a few times, before turning to the direction his higher-up had nodded to. There he was met with the sight of the person he'd run into earlier that day.
That can't be…
The Storm Guardian gritted his teeth, hands clenching the book in his hands tightly. Why did it have to be that annoying idiot of all people? He knew that the Boss had no pick in the people that needed saving, but why did it have to be an athletic, happy-go-lucky idiot!?