F:CV | grey world
Reborn doesn't even have to step out of the place between wake and dreams to know that Namimori has changed.
It's in the way the birds sing their greetings, the way the cars sputter down the highway, the way the sun is too frightened to peep out from behind the clouds. It's so boringly obvious that Reborn doesn't want to wake up. New assassins are in town, but if their presence tilts the balance this much, they are probably nothing worth noting.
The very best come and leave without stirring a single leaf.
It's disappointing, to say the least. This new threat won't even be worth toying with.
Tsuna is up already when Reborn emerges from his room, towel wrapped haphazardly around his waist. He notes vaguely that Tsuna looks rather tired, but thinks nothing of it as the boy scribbles enthusiastically in his near-filled sketchbook. Today he draws a boy—or is it a girl? Reborn can't tell—with silver hair and green eyes and a rather sleazy-looking man who looks far too similar to a sleazy doctor Reborn doesn't want to waste brain power thinking about.
He can't stand the thought of spending another day listening to the scritch-scratch of crayons on paper, so he showers quickly and hauls Tsuna out the door.
From the grey sky, light rain patters against the windshield. Reborn switches on the radio for thirty seconds, long enough to hear about the bombing of an orphanage—Sheen On Orphanage, he thinks it is—a good hundred miles away, before snapping it off again.
They end up in front of the Yamamoto residence, and the rain has just let up when they leave the car.
Tsuyoshi seems rather surprised to see them ducking into the restaurant during off hours, but he doesn't say a word. Silently, he hands Reborn a glass of water and turns on the stove just as Takeshi grabs Tsuna and drags him outside.
"Tsuna seems old enough to be attending school," Tsuyoshi comments. He's waiting for the water to come to a boil so that he can make the miso soup he knows Reborn likes.
"Does he?" Reborn says, barely interested as he fans himself lazily. It's hot outside, so hot they can see the pavement steaming as the two boys gallivant about.
"Isn't he seven? Eight? About Takeshi's age?"
"He's five," Reborn returns flatly.
Tsuyoshi gives him a look that reeks of the word liar. Why would he lie about something so trivial? Reborn can't be bothered to see something out of the ordinary in the very ordinary human.
Maybe there's something about being a dad that lends a sixth sense.
"I'll ask the Ninth about it," Reborn says, making plans to do nothing of the sort because he would rather shoot himself in the foot than drive the small human to school every day. "Maybe there's something he forgot to tell me. He mentioned something about school the last time he came. Maybe I can get the kid enrolled right after summer break ends—when does summer break end?"
"In a month," Tsuyoshi supplies. He ladles out a bowl of soup, little squares of bean curd tumbling to the bottom. Reborn languidly lifts the spoon and watches the soup dribble out like rain leaking from a gutter.
"A storm's brewing," Tsuyoshi comments casually, even though the clouds are being blown away.
So even Tsuyoshi has noticed the unrest of the city.
"A storm is brewing," Reborn echoes. "There's a family on the other side of Japan that needs to be taught a lesson. They're stirring up trouble so violently that the waves are carrying all the way over into even a peaceful town like Namimori…"
"Which harbors quite a few un-peaceful things itself, if you'd ever care to explore," Tsuyoshi says. Reborn isn't interested in being lectured by the man for shutting himself up in his apartment all the time. He knows that Namimori is not so idyllic as its inhabitants make it out to be. So he gives a derisive harrumph-ing sort of noise and devotes attention to his soup.
"Takeshi! Tsuna!" Tsuyoshi calls. "Come inside and have something to drink! I don't want to pay for your hospital bills if you get heat stroke."
"Aw, dad," Takeshi hollers back. "There's plenty of water out here."
Tsuyoshi clears his throat in a way that makes Takeshi grab Tsuna by the back of his shirt and tug him inside for a gulp of ginger-infused water. Then they're back out, playing assassin.
Tsuna's excellent at hiding and at being terrified. But Takeshi finds him in under a minute and saws his hand across Tsuna's throat.
"He's a natural born assassin," Reborn almost praises. But there's no smile on Tsuyoshi's face as he pulls a fish out from the fridge.
"I just pray he doesn't become one."
And Tsuyoshi turns around, knife in hand, to make the first cut into flesh.
They're out of sight of the restaurant when it happens.
Tsuna bites back a whimper. His knee is clutched between his hands, blood dribbling over and into the cracks between his fingers, and little pieces of gravel jut rudely in his flesh. Face pale, Yamamoto tries to convince Tsuna to hobble back to the restaurant, but he refuses.
"You want me to get dad or old man Reborn, then?" Yamamoto asks.
"No!"
Tsuna winces at the bewildered expression on Yamamoto's face and elaborates quietly, "No. D-Don't bother Reborn-san o-or your dad."
Yamamoto's perplexed. "Bother? I don't think it'll be a bother. Just wait here, and I'll get them—"
Yamamoto nearly trips because Tsuna's grabbed the end of his sleeve and dragged him down. There's a pleading light in his eyes that doesn't make any sense. Tsuna's bleeding. He needs help. Even Yamamoto's no fool enough to keep playing baseball after he gets beaned in the head.
"We can play assassins after dad bandages you up," he tries to convince Tsuna. "I've gotten plenty of scraped knees and they haven't stopped me from running around."
"T-That's not what I'm worried about."
"Then what? Nobody's gonna yell at you for falling down."
Tsuna shakes his head. How odd. Yamamoto waggles his eyebrows, trying to think of what's keeping Tsuna from getting his knee treated, which is bleeding a whole lot, wow!
And then—
Oh.
Yamamoto squats down to look Tsuna in the eyes. They're a pretty shade, like the inch of honey at the bottom of the bottle that's been forgotten for far too long. He gives him his best smile, the kind he knows blows old man Reborn's soul to smithereens.
"Old man Reborn isn't gonna hate you for getting a bloody knee."
And there it is—that flinch, the frantic denial, the small tears gathering in the corner of those neglected eyes. Yamamoto reaches out and rubs his hand all in Tsuna's hair.
"Actually, I think if you ask him for more things, he'd like it. He's a lonely old man, after all, you know," Yamamoto says, drawing a nervous laugh from Tsuna. "Same with my dad. He really likes you. I do, too. So don't worry about it. You're not bothering anybody."
And that's that. Yamamoto has had enough of Tsuna's quiet steps, for today anyways. A grin surfaces, and he hauls the boy on his back, laughing at his shrieks, and sprints all the way home.
"Did you win the fight?" Reborn asks, and the look in his eyes is almost approving as he gazes on the blood dribbling all down Tsuna's leg and into Takeshi's shirt. As Takeshi drops Tsuna from the piggy-back, Tsuyoshi hastily moves forward and says, "No fighting, Takeshi, Tsuna!" before either of them can get the wrong idea.
Especially Tsuna.
Tsuyoshi has a feeling Tsuna would do anything to get approval from Reborn.
And fighting is a path the boy is definitely not cut out for, no matter how impressed it might make Reborn.
"No fight, pops!" Takeshi chirps while his father gets out the first aid kid and a few bottles of disinfectant. "Tsuna just fell down. Oh. And then I guess he bled on me."
Takeshi holds out his arms as he stares at the blood on his shirt wonderingly, his father already binding up Tsuna's knee. He plucks at his shirt, looks thoughtful, and then starts stripping.
He pauses.
"Well, that wasn't there before."
Takeshi gives a confused laugh before he quite literally falls over. Tsuna is all but forgotten as Tsuyoshi leaps up, shouting Takeshi's name, and pushes Reborn out of the way, who had rather interestedly stood to peer at the gash in Takeshi's side.
"Who—how? You said there was no fight!"
"You should be quick about it. It might be poisoned," Reborn counsels, sounding a little delighted by the prospect.
Takeshi turns a little paler at this thought.
"You mean like in video games? Where the poisoned guy turns green and then gets a skull and crossbones next to his name when he dies? Am I going to have a skull and crossbones next to my name? Am I going to turn green, dad, am I?"
Reborn smiles and says, "Perhaps."
Takeshi looks a little green already.
"Shush!" Tsuyoshi orders, throwing Reborn a despairing look. He doesn't appreciate how Reborn is turning this chaotic situation into entertainment. Friend though he may be, Tsuyoshi's not reluctant at all to throw a few silencing punches. Tsuna, in the meanwhile, has brought over the first aid kit—which Tsuyoshi hopes will be enough. He quickly cleans Takeshi's wound, breathing a sigh of relief when he sees it's not all that deep.
"Are you sure you don't know where this came from?"
Takeshi only shakes his head, wincing when Tsuyoshi starts binding him up.
"It didn't even hurt, not till I saw it. Tsuna, you didn't see anything, did you?"
Tsuna looks distraught at not being able to provide an answer. But what's done is done, and his son's life is in no danger, so Tsuyoshi shuts the first aid kit with a sigh and hugs his son and Tsuna both.
"Don't go too far from the house," he warns them. "Stay in sight. And stay together. There's strength in numbers."
"Geez, dad, you're talking like we're at war or something," Takeshi says easily. Having recovered from the shock, he's sitting up now with a grin on his face and no worries at all. "I bet Tsuna's shoe just rubbed against my ribs the wrong way, and that's how this all happened. But it's alright, I feel great now!"
Takeshi jumps to his feet spiritedly, leaving his father to sigh and wonderingly mull over his son's resiliency. But once he and Tsuna are out of sight, Tsuyoshi turns to Reborn, who's looking at him expectantly.
"That was the work of an assassin, not a shoe," Tsuyoshi says rather heatedly. "It was a cut made by something sharp. Why is an assassin targeting my son?"
"Or targeting Tsuna," Reborn adds. "Or even just having some fun terrorizing the citizens of Namimori. Can't rule that out. You told me earlier, Tsuyoshi, that a storm is brewing. And I guess it's finally reached Namimori. If you're worried you can't protect your son, I can—"
"I can protect Takeshi just fine," Tsuyoshi cuts in. He hates this attitude of Reborn's. From anyone else, this offer would be a welcome gesture, just a display of caring, but from Reborn—from Reborn it's just a subtle act of condescension. Though Reborn rarely shows it, Tsuyoshi knows the hitman looks down on him for putting away his blade.
Tsuyoshi knows it all stems from the way Reborn was thrown headfirst into the mafia's bloodbath without any sort of mentor or guidance, knows that Reborn doesn't know how to act any other way, but he can't help but, at this moment, hold it against him.
Reborn holds up his hands in concession. "Alright. But I would equip your kitchen with things other than fileting knives, if I were you. Well, I don't want to bother you during restaurant hours. It's time I take the small human and—"
And finally, all the compounded stress makes Tsuyoshi snap.
"Tsuna," he says sharply. Reborn tilts his head like a lion that's been confronted by an ant. "I've never once heard you say his name. What kind of impression do you think it leaves on Tsuna? That his name isn't worth mentioning, that he isn't important enough?"
Reborn speaks very delicately, but there's a blade behind his voice.
"I shall call him as I please."
And for the second time that week, Tsuyoshi calls after Reborn as he walks away with a careless hand thrown in farewell.
"You know what I really meant," Tsuyoshi says. "Don't call us humans in a way that excludes you. I know what you think about yourself, Reborn. But it's wrong."
The man is walking away, his hands shoved into his pockets, a solitary curve in his back.
"You're not as bad as you cut yourself out to be. You're human, just like the rest of us."
Reborn dreams that night, dreams of beautiful white flowers bobbing in a field of emerald and skies of the deepest blue. It's so breathtaking, so out of place in his red-blotted life, that it brings an ache in his chest he hasn't known ever in his waking hours. He doesn't want to wake, but he does, he has to, and when his eyes open, the skies are raining properly without a sun that wavers insecurely between life and death.
The world is grey.
He vaguely notes that he's running out of toothpaste as he squeezes some out. His mouth fills with the taste of peppermint so weak it's not even worth mentioning. He passes by Tsuna's sketchbook as he meanders the halls. The silver-haired boy from yesterday has been colored in to have rather blotchy, red skin. A skin disease, perhaps? That might explain the sleazy doctor in the corner. But the sleazy doctor Reborn knows only treats girls.
So it's a silver-haired girl from now on.
Reborn wonders if the sleazy doctor Tsuna drew is just a figment of his imagination or if the small human has actually had the bad luck of running into the greasy-haired bastard.
It doesn't matter at any rate. Tsuna's sleeping when Reborn sees that the last vegetable in the fridge is a wilted carrot, and he's still sleeping when Reborn returns from the store in an hour with a bag of fresh vegetables and a four-pack of ramen. A few hours later, they're at the Takeshi residence. Tsuna runs around as best as he can, Fred riding on his shoulder, to collect dirty napkins from tables with still-warm chairs. Reborn himself just sits idly, swiping sushi from the bar. Tsuyoshi doesn't say anything, but Reborn can feel eyes on him as he stares at the grey windows. Tsuyoshi pours him an extra drink of sake.
A few seconds later, the glass is empty.
Rain falls and a scent of wet dirt crawls in through the window. It reaches the wrong corners of Reborn's mind, and it all begins to remind him vaguely of—
There's a tug on his elbow, and he twists to see Takeshi, the honey-eyed boy who's too bright for him to handle on a day as grey as today. He turns back around, eyes closed, ears half-listening to the question Takeshi poses.
Old man Reborn, are you sad about something?
And just like that—
The world goes as quiet as it is grey.
He hates children. He hates them so much. Hates their carefree days, hates the way their world is colored outside of the lines. A boy who hasn't a care in the world like Takeshi doesn't have any place in Reborn's life. Sad? Him? He's the world's strongest assassin. The strongest assassin.
Don't mock him like this.
Don't show him how easily you color your world when he fights to the death to see just a few splatters of red.
Tsuyoshi steps between Takeshi and Reborn and shoves another glass of sake into the hitman's hand.
"Drink."
Tsuyoshi sends them home with a basket of sashimi and an invitation to Takeshi's first baseball game of the summer season, which is in four days.
"Please, please, please, it'll be so cool, and I'll hit a homerun, and you can catch the ball, Tsuna, and oh boy, old man, can't you come and watch?"
The way Takeshi hadn't let up even after Reborn had pinned him down with his most withering glare baffled the assassin. But he didn't see the harm in going, and though he wasn't looking forward to the heat that was bound to curl around Namimori, the look on Tsuna's face when he'd agreed was like a slice of the blue sky—
He tells that voice to shut up, so it withers away like a neglected seedling.
There's a man in a black suit waiting outside the door when they reach home. Reborn pushes Tsuna inside and shuts the door tightly.
"Cumin," he greets. "It's been a while."
"Indeed," Cumin replies. He shifts his weight, and Reborn reads him just like that. Discomfort. Unease. Trepidation. He even reeks of fear. It couldn't be clearer that Cumin wants to flee the premises as soon as he can. Reborn terrifies him.
Reborn's lip curls imperceptibly.
Before Cumin opens his mouth a second time, Reborn says, "Tell Iemitsu his small human is doing fine."
He rather likes terrifying Cumin, and he shows it by producing his gun from thin air and twirling it between his fingers. "And tell him if he tries to set even a single foot in my home, that foot will no longer be attached to his body."
"Which is why he sent me," Cumin says stiffly.
"Don't be ridiculous. He's not afraid of losing a couple limbs to me. The real reason he sent you is that he's petrified at the prospect of seeing the son he abandoned and is postponing it for as long as possible. And I hate cowards. You know that."
The way Cumin's shoulders are squaring almost makes Reborn laugh. Fear and hate. Two forces that always rule humans. Cumin hates Reborn, but his fear keeps him from punching Reborn in the face as he so wishes to do.
This is no longer entertaining.
Reborn hates cowards.
"What do you want, Cumin."
Cumin struggles to glower at Reborn, like he's afraid his eyes will be gouged out. "The Ciro Family has moved south. They seem to have a few men in Namimori who are looking for something. The Ninth wants you to—"
"Iemitsu," Reborn corrects. "Iemitsu wants me to. Do tell him not to protect himself by using the Ninth's name. You and I both know he doesn't work for him, and dealing with liars is not on my agenda. I've had enough of you," he says bluntly. "All the things you're about to tell me are child's play. Leave."
Cumin bows, not out of respect, but out of fear that Reborn will shoot him between the eyes if he doesn't, and disappears. At least the man is good at vanishing.
When he's inside, Reborn throws a pack of ramen in a pot to accompany the sushi Tsuyoshi packed. He even pulls out two bowls from the dust-covered cupboards. But the water isn't even boiling yet when he shuts himself in his room.
Tsuna eats alone because Reborn forgets.
Yamamoto's dad expresses the same goofiness Yamamoto has, a silly attitude that belies sharp intuition that takes people by surprise. He feeds Tsuna too much, hugs him too much, smiles at him too much, and ruffles his hair too much, but it all fills Tsuna with a strange sensation foreign to him up until now.
Tsuna thinks it's a good feeling. It reminds him of dandelions basking in golden light.
He loves the sushi and he loves how Yamamoto always involves him in his games. He loves Yamamoto's bright smile and how easily he washes away all the dark shadows hovering around the edges of Tsuna's consciousness. He loves how Yamamoto's dad reins them all in, even Reborn, as uncontrollable as he is.
He thinks maybe this is what it's like to have a father, what it's like to have a brother. Two brothers, really, he amends in retrospect. Though Reborn may be his guardian, he's no fatherly figure, and Tsuna sees the way Tsuyoshi looks after Reborn like Matron looked after the kids at daycare. And Matron had always called them all her sons and daughters.
The window is open, and the summer breeze winds lazily around the room. Fred butts his finger as Tsuna gazes out over the horizon, which is flushed with all sorts of pinks and purples that bring a smile to Tsuna's face.
"I like you, Fred," he says quietly. Fred dances. "I like you. I like Yamamoto-kun. I like Yamamoto-kun's house, and I like helping them during service hours. I like Yamamoto-kun's dad. And—And even though—well, I like R-Reborn-san, too. Yeah," he says, nodding to himself. "I like Reborn-san. H-He's not nice like Yamamoto-kun's dad, and I think he h-hates me a little, but he's—I think he's a good person."
Tsuna hiccups, which is apparently so alarming that Fred tries hugging Tsuna's thumb with his spindly little legs.
"Fred," Tsuna says quietly, and his voice is choked up like he's trying to hold something back, "I don't ever want to leave. I really like it here. Yamamoto-kun always plays with me even though he's busy with baseball, and his dad is always nice to me and it feels like a family when we all eat together and—and—"
When Reborn emerges from his room for a glass of water, the night is speckled with stars, and he finds Tsuna curled up next to the window with Fred nestled in his hair. Reborn reaches out a finger, nudging Fred, who awakens with a sleepy wave of his legs and crawls into Reborn's hand.
Very gently, without jostling Tsuna much, Reborn scoops the boy up and carries him to the couch. As he lays him down, he sees streaks across his face, like the small human had cried itself to sleep. Reborn pulls a thin blanket over Tsuna and sets Fred close to Tsuna's head, watching as the stag beetle burrows into Tsuna's messy hair.
He does that for a while.
Watches.
Standing in the night with his back to the stars, the assassin called Reborn just watches the human called Sawada Tsunayoshi.
And then, even though he knows Tsuna won't hear him, he says, "I don't hate you."
He vanishes like a shadow swallowed by the dark.
Bit of a longer chapter than usual, hope nobody minds lol. Set up a LOT of things here, plot-wise, events-wise, emotions-wise. I had to prep a presentation for my internship this week, so sorry for late update/missed replies to reviews.
Thanks to everyone supporting this story! It means a whole lot to me. If you have any feedback-comments on what's missing (because I feel like there is something lacking in my writing, and I just can't figure it out right now) or just what you think about the story in general-please let me know!
Thanks for reading!