[KHR] yesterday's tomorrow (ch. 2)
:3 I'm on a roll, here. Thanks for the comments, everyone! Glad you all like it. Hope you guys like this chapter...
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(don't think once that you can hide from the facts.)
chapter two
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"You're kidding-you're following me to school now?" Tsuna said incredulously. Yes, he realized he was such an important person now that the other candidates for mafia boss were now either dead or incapacitated, but it wasn't like he had assassins after him now, right? Right? ("You're a wanted man now, Tsu-kun," informed the Ninth wearily; all Tsuna could think was, Haven't I been that for a while, now?)
But not yet, Tsuna thought. Not yet.
"Surveillance," Reborn quipped, dispelling all of his worries. "One must scout out the target before making any assumptions, of course."
"You haven't researched me already?"
"Of course I did," replied Reborn, with the odd, suspicious glint in his eyes again.
"Then why..." Tsuna trailed off, then shook his head. It didn't seem like he'd be getting any answers out of Reborn soon. Anyway, the hitman was probably investigating yesterday's slip-up. I have to be more careful, Tsuna thought morosely. Reborn will notice any blunder, no matter how small it is.
"I don't think you're a real assassin anyway," Tsuna declared boldly and prepared himself for the impact.
But none came. Reborn’s eyes rested on a girl ahead, and Tsuna followed his gaze-and felt himself blush. (Wavy, light brown hair; a beautiful smile and eyes that lit up like stars.) Apparently, nothing had changed in the future, since his heart still tried to beat its way out of his chest every time he saw her.
“Ah-hello!” Kyoko-chan called.
“K-Kyoko-chan! Um, hi,” said Tsuna lamely. “So, um, what’re you…”
“Kyah!” Kyoko-chan exclaimed and squatted down in front of Reborn, promptly ignoring Tsuna. “How cute!”
“Ciaossu.”
“Why are you wearing a suit?”
(“Because I’m in the mafia,” said Reborn, as if that explained everything. “And red doesn’t show up on black too badly,” added Dino helpfully. “Makes laundry easier, you know?”) But Tsuna promptly shook that thought out of his head.
“I’m in the mafia,” Reborn replied smartly.
“Wah, so cool!” gushed Kyoko-chan. “Tsuna-kun, your younger brother is so cute!”
“Ah-what?” Tsuna was momentarily blindsided by the sheer horror of the idea. Reborn? Brother? “No! He’s not my brother. Definitely, definitely not.”
“Oh. Sorry.” Kyoko-chan looked disappointed.
“He’s my-er, cousin,” Tsuna found himself saying. “From overseas. Um, Italy.”
“Oh! How interesting. Well, see you at school,” Kyoko-chan said, smiling, and waved goodbye before continuing on her way. Tsuna watched her depart, her dreamy smile still imprinted in his mind-she smiled at me! Kyoko-chan really smiled at me! I must be dreaming-until a small foot slammed into his side.
“Cousin, am I?” Reborn growled with a hard gleam in his eyes.
From his position on the floor, Tsuna groaned.
-
"So you have a crush on her," observed Reborn with a hint of a triumphant smirk after he was finished beating Tsuna up, as if he'd arrived at the world's greatest conclusion.
"Huh? Kyoko-chan? Um, yeah," said Tsuna warily. Where was this going?
"Why don't you ask her out?"
Tsuna snorted. "Yeah, right. I mean, she's the school's idol! And I'm just-" ("Anyway, Tsuna-kun," Kyoko murmured, placing a hand on his. "You've always been a unique guy. I like that about you.") And another one-(Reborn pointed the gun at Tsuna's forehead. "Die, Tsuna." Pain exploded and Tsuna saw stars but all he could think was, I wish I had told her.)
"I mean," said Tsuna hastily, "it's, um, not the right time."
When Reborn continued to stare at him, Tsuna elaborated. "I'm waiting for when there's more time, like . . . after school. So I can, um . . . invite her out later." Or something.
Reborn smirked. "Not a good enough answer," he replied, and snapped his gun up and shot a bullet in one fluid motion.
Waitwait I'm not ready to die whytheheckareyoushootingmeforawronganswer and not the DYINGWILLBULLET please, I don't think I could stand it again-
("Remember the Dying Will Bullet, Tsuna?" Tsuna had to laugh. "Of all the things you could bring up now, it's that? I haven't been shot in such a long time!-Not that there's any need to," he said hastily, gently pushing away the barrel of Reborn's gun. "The gloves work just fine now.")
I don't want to die, Tsuna thought desperately. I reallyreally don't want to die, and I don't want to be hit by the Dying Will Bullet, not again, not after such a long time-
In a split second, Tsuna-Tsuna? It wasn't poor, No-Good Tsuna who was doing that, was it? It was just the ghost in the dreams that he used to be, the Decimo, who could burn a city with one hand and freeze a hundred men with the other-had jerked his head to the side with a strength he didn't know he possessed, and the bullet shot into the tree behind him.
Reborn's stare, if anything, grew darker. He lowered the gun, saying, "Well. It looks like you aren't completely useless." Which would have been gold from Reborn if he had said it in the dream, because Reborn never gave compliments-but this time his tone told Tsuna very clearly, You and I are going to have a Talk later. Which Tsuna was dreading.
His ear throbbed slightly; Tsuna lifted a hand up and brought it back down, blood staining his finger's tips. The bullet had grazed his ear. Funny. He hadn't noticed. But on his hand, the blood seemed to spread, dripping down to his palm over his fingers to the ground; just blood, blood, blood soaking his gloves like dye. ("What a massacre," Dino commented in an odd tone, and Tsuna couldn't tell if he was very impressed, or actually horrified.)
What a nightmare, Tsuna thought. His hands were shaking now, just a little bit, but enough to be noticed. He wiped the blood on his pants-they were dark, anyway, and-("Red doesn't show up on black too badly. Makes laundry easier, you know?")
Well. Reborn was still staring at him, waiting for him to say something. He was suspicious, undoubtedly too suspicious, and if Tsuna kept pushing him there would probably be dangerous consequences. Best case scenario: Reborn assumed he had picked everything (the quirks, the reactions, the exhausted look on his face) from some passing mafioso. Chances of happening: zero.
Worst case scenario: Reborn assumed he was actually some enemy spy, and murdered him violently. Which was very likely.
Besides, Reborn being Reborn, he was going to figure something out sooner or later. And maybe something deep inside Tsuna remembered the insanely strong, unreasonably difficult but absolutely trustworthy mentor that the Decimo could always depend on. And maybe-well, just a teensy part of him wanted Reborn to know. (“Tired of keeping secrets, Tsunayoshi? Kukuku. Why don’t you hand your body over to me so you won’t have to worry about that anymore?” Mukuro gave him a Cheshire grin, but after years of knowing the man, Tsuna could see in the mismatched eyes a strange melancholy, like he was notsaying Well. That makes two of us.)
“I’ll talk to you after school, Reborn,” Tsuna said quietly, then brushed past the baby before he could see Reborn’s reaction. For some reason, he didn’t want to see Reborn’s guarded, distrustful expression. Like so many other things in this world, it didn’t seem to fit.
-
School passed in a blur. He didn’t even know what Nezu-sensei had talked about in class, or where Kyoko-chan went or whatever else. For the most part, his mind remained firmly on the fact that he was going to tell Reborn that he had a crazy dream that told him his future and you were in it and really crazy things happened, so that’s why I’m acting weird and don’t kill me please?
Um, yeah. Sounded like a plan.
Anyway. Who was he kidding? Maybe it really was just a dream. Fervently, Tsuna hoped so; with the arrival of Reborn, his life was already flipped upside down. He didn’t need these-these-
But they hadn’t been dreams. They really hadn’t been dreams. Tsuna knew dreams, that that-thing-hadn’t been one. It had been too real, too gritty, too exact. He knew things he shouldn’t know at all, like about Reborn and about his Family and Millefiore and Byakuran and the Varia-he shouldn’t know that. He shouldn’t know that but he did, because of-the thing.
He’d seen the horror that had happened at the very end: a fierce, brutal, bloody (ohgosh the blood-Tsuna supposed he had never really known what the term “rivers of blood” meant; well, now he did.) war. War, war, war-they’d been barely twenty and in a war. And if that was really the future-
(“Silly Tsunayoshi,” mocked Mukuro. “Hasn’t anyone told you the future is not set in stone?” It’d been a quick comment, in reply to a firm For the last time, I won’t hand my body over, but it had been the Mist guardian who first planted the possibility of alternate futures in Tsuna’s mind; as Byakuran’s forces closed in, Tsuna found himself considering it more and more . . .)
If-if it really was the future-Tsuna gulped. He had to tell someone. Someone who could do something about it . . .
(“Dame Tsuna,” said the man genially with an amused gleam in his eyes. “Setting fire to your paperwork will only cause more trouble. Talk to me.”)
Reborn had been one of his closest advisors and confidants. In the rare occasion Tsuna’d told the man some stuff he hadn’t even told Gokudera-kun; Reborn was his mentor, had always been his mentor, and when he didn’t know what to do and his Family didn’t know what to do, he went to Reborn. Always. (Except that time he died, right? sneered a voice, not one from his dreams but the cruel, cold, harsh part of him that said It’s all your fault, it’s all your fault.)
Tsuna was not unaware that telling Reborn could possibly lead to the loss of Reborn as a mentor, and as a (dare he voice it?) friend.
But there really wasn’t a way around it. Reborn would never truly become his mentor, let alone his friend, if he didn’t trust him. And the way he’d been acting, the blunder he’d made yesterday and the one today-there was no way he could get out of this, but d-- it! Was there really no other way?
The worst thing was, he honestly didn’t know how Reborn would react. Reborn had always known Tsuna like the back of his hand, even before they had met, and Tsuna knew Reborn better than most people could claim to (though at odd moments, he still couldn’t tell what exactly the hitman was going to do). But that had been the other Reborn, the one that had taught him and made him into the Decimo. But this Reborn hadn’t done any of that yet, and was none of that yet. Tsuna did not know this Reborn, but he knew he would have to give some sort of explanation for his behavior, and sadly, he couldn’t think of a single believable lie that would substitute for the real thing.
Well, he wouldn’t have to give the entire explanation, right? The information that filled his brain was only fragments of a life he’d lived before (would live later?), but even that was enough to fill a book. No wonder Tsuna’s head had been pounding the entire day yesterday. He could just… gloss over some of the details. Yeah.
Tsuna wondered whether that was enough to keep Reborn from killing him.
“Sawada Tsunayoshi! Sleeping again my class, are you?” Nezu-sensei strutted down the classroom to Tsuna’s desk, then held himself very high and looked down at Tsuna over his rimmed glasses.
(“The smallest dogs bark loudest,” read Tsuna aloud, and from the couch Xanxus gave a short bark of laughter. “That’s you, trash!”)
“Sawada. Let’s say, hypothetically, that there’s a student in the class not paying attention. To a teacher who graduated from an elite college like Tokyo University-”
Tsuna waved a hand at him. “Whatever you say,” he muttered. For some reason, he was ticking people off today.
Turning blue from frustration, Nezu-sensei pointed to the board, where he’d written a problem from the textbook. “Sawada, your disrespect is appalling. Answer the question on the board, now.”
Tsuna pulled himself up from his desk slowly. What class was he in again? Math? They were studying Geometry, weren’t they? What chapter, what chapter . . . He glanced at the board. It was fairly straightforward-funny, since he thought his textbook was always trying to confuse him. A right triangle . . . something about an angle. And tan-tan? (Tangent, perhaps?) What was that again?
Honestly, he didn’t remember picking up the chalk.
And he certainly didn’t remember solving the problem with a few calculations.
But he did remember turning around and seeing Nezu-sensei looking like a fish-wide eyes, gaping mouth. By now, the man was nearly purple. And then, he realized that the rest of the classroom was staring at him, because what the heck, had Dame Tsuna really solved a math problem in front of the class for the first time in his life?
Did he really?
Tsuna whirled back to the board, and there, in suspiciously clear handwriting that didn’t look like his own messy handwriting at all was the answer to the question. He stared at the problem again, and the answer jumped out at him like never before. Suddenly, things made sense; the numbers and lines actually meant something and you could put them together and somehow everything made sense.
“Wow,” he managed.
“G-Get back to your seat, Sawada!” sputtered Nezu-sensei. “You got it right this one time, but your last test . . .”
But Tsuna had stopped listening to him, mind spinning with possibilities. He knew math? He didn’t even know he knew how to do that. Wow.
If this was because of that dream-memory-thing, then there was at least there was one good thing that came out of it.
-
Tsuna had barely entered his room before he heard the cock of a gun.
“Sit down,” said Reborn from his bed in a deadly quiet, hard voice, without that amused smile he always wore because he knew how to interrogate suspicious persons when he needed to, because (“He’s the greatest hitman in the world and what would he be if he didn’t know how to interrogate someone properly? Second greatest, that’s what.”)
Tsuna slowly, carefully lowered himself to the carpeted floor and sat legs out, palms against the ground. All limbs in view? Check. Eyes calm, but not threatening? Check. Looking into interrogator’s eyes? Check. Good thing Dino had taught him how to act so he didn’t look like he was dangerous, or hiding something. It had probably saved his life a couple of times already, counting now, of course.
“You said you would talk later,” Reborn reminded him. “So talk. I don’t like not knowing, especially when it concerns my student.” The last word came out as a menacing whisper, as if Reborn didn’t really think he was his students-actually, he probably didn’t.
“Right.” Tsuna gulped-why had he thought this was a good idea again? Oh yeah. No other choice. “I-um . . . well . . .”
Reborn rolled his eyes. “From the beginning. Who are you?”
“Sawada Tsunayoshi,” said Tsuna without missing a beat. (Privately, he was impressed with himself for not stuttering under the threat of death.)
“Are you?” The baby’s eyes narrowed. “Sawada Tsunayoshi is shy, stupid, and useless. He has no motivation whatsoever. He has a crush on Sasagawa Kyoko and dreams of being married to her and raising a family. But he is not you.”
Tsuna almost winced through Reborn’s description of him-stupid? Useless? Well, he supposed before he was, but not now-and how the heck did Reborn know about his dream?!
“So. Let me ask again. Who are you?”
He was going to regret this, but . . . Tsuna took a deep breath, trying to slow his furiously pounding heart. “I-I told you before, Reborn. I am Sawada Tsunayoshi. B-But!” Tsuna added hastily, when he saw the gun’s barrel inch upwards, towards his head. “Not the one you just described.”
“Explain.”
“L-look, can we-put away the guns? Just for a little bit?” Tsuna pleaded. “It’s-um, really hard to explain when . . .” he glanced at the gun nervously.
“You can explain with the gun,” Reborn said flatly, “or not at all. Your choice.”
“Um! Um. Okay. Well-a few days ago, I was just as you described. Stupid and . . . yeah. Everything you said. B-But, yesterday-or was it the day before that? I-um. Had this dream.”
“A dream,” Reborn repeated, and Tsuna could almost see the skepticism, but he continued anyway, because that’s what Reborn asked him to do, and you just don’t not do the things Reborn asks you to do.
“I-It wasn’t really one-a dream, I mean. It was like-” Tsuna found himself fumbling for words, because there were how many in the Japanese language and he couldn’t think of a single one. “Maybe-maybe I could just tell you the dream?” he asked hopefully.
Reborn was silent for one tense moment. “Go ahead,” he said finally.
Breathing out a sigh of relief, Tsuna started (“Just tell it like it was,” said the Dino-voice encouragingly). “Okay. It started just like yesterday. You came to my house because you wanted to tutor me, or make me into the tenth Vongola boss-that’s why you came, isn’t it?”
Eyes minutely wider, the baby hitman nodded once.
“Right. Well, you did. Make me into a mafia boss, I mean. I saw it. Fragments of it, anyway.” Tsuna’s eyes glazed over, rememberingnotremembering, living the memories-(“You are the guy who will become the tenth generation boss.”)-“You arrived, suddenly spinning my world out of its orbit. You kind of tortured me, you know?” Tsuna chuckled. “I didn’t want to be a mafia boss at all. But you made me. You and Dad put together a Family for me, and they became my best friends. But-then, stuff happened. Bad stuff.”
Reborn watched silently.
“I only saw bits and pieces of it all, and it didn’t really make that much sense, but there was a lot of-” Tsuna stumbled-(bloodandgutsandgore, just all of it everywhere and on everything and how could this have been a man once?)-“A lot of-”(“D--! What a load of garbage. What was this, an eye? And this-sheesh. A leg here, and arm there-just can’t tell when one man’s parts end and another’s begin.”) Tsuna bent over, hands over his stomach, he felt so ill seeing those images again, seeing the charred, black fleshskullsflesh of his last victims.
Who said war was glorious? Who said it? They knew nothing. Nothing, nothing at all. He was going to rewrite it. Because it’s not glorious, not on the field when you’re stabbingshootingburningburningBURNING them and not when you’re on the throne murdering thousands of men with the snap of a finger and not in the night when you can’t sleep, all of their faces tormenting you. It’s not-at-ALL-
Tsuna felt something wet on his cheeks. Tears, he realized, and hurriedly brushed them away, willing himself to look back up at Reborn and not cry again (look up, look at; don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry). “Sorry,” he mumbled. What was he doing again? Oh, his dream (notdream).
Opening his mouth to tell Reborn the rest of the story, Tsuna found himself choking out something much different. “I really, really missed you, Reborn.”
For once, Reborn looked startled and a little unsettled. “Why?”
“You were dead, Reborn. I mean, I had grown up with you and you were my mentor and teacher and you were dead. Byakuran spread something in the air and all of you arcobalenos died, because it was specially designed to poison just you; and I was there I had to watch it and I couldn’t do anything about it, except hunt Byakuran down and try to kill him, but I couldn’t. What do you do against someone has knowledge of hundreds of alternate realities? When every move you make is destined to fail, when your only option is-”
Tsuna cut himself off. Ridiculous, he thought bitterly, wiping the edges of his eyes with a sleeve. Get a hold of yourself, Tsuna. This isn’t the Reborn you knew. This isn’t . . .
“A-Anyway,” he continued shakily, “I dreamt a-about . . . my entire future, one where I became the Decimo, which is your job, I guess.” Somehow his voice was turning sullen, which he didn’t mean, but it just turned out that way-“So, I mean… doesn’t really matter, does it? Just train me like you would anyway, I’ll become the Decimo, and everyone’ll be happy, I guess.”
An anxiety set into the pit of his stomach. What was Reborn going to do? The fear was constricting his chest, grabbing at his heart. He didn’t, couldn’t breathe; just what was he going to do?
For a length of time, Reborn was silent; the brim of his hat shaded his eyes, and like the perfect hitman not a single muscle moved, betraying nothing, giving Tsuna no hint, no sign, nothing to work with.
Then Reborn spoke, and Tsuna almost missed it because it was a whisper-
“So that’s why.”
What?
For the first time-and again, it was a day of firsts!-Reborn looked disturbed, relieved, and wary all at once, and somehow, incredibly human, unlike the incredible, impossible hitman he usually was. “I won’t claim to have had such . . . dreams as you have. But on the same night you dreamed . . .”
What? Is he saying what I think he is?-just-no way. No way. “You too?” It just seemed too incredible.
“I did not have dreams, or see memories, or anything like that,” Reborn clarified. “But . . . I’ve have a feeling since then. To trust you. I don’t trust intuition; it’s too risky and doesn’t work well out on the field. But that night while reviewing your profile I suddenly felt that without a doubt, you would become the Decimo, and I could trust you absolutely.”
Staring in disbelief and utter amazement, Tsuna could hardly trust himself to say anything. Of all circumstances-(“Sometimes miracles happen,” murmured Kyoko-chan as he slipped a gold ring onto her finger; as Gokudera stumbled, beaten and bloody, out of the wreckage but so very alive; as he turned, and saw Reborn there, living and breathing and not gasping from the poison-)
“Still,” continued Reborn, as the hard glint in his eyes reappeared. “I don’t trust feelings. Until I see it with my very eyes, I will doubt. For the moment, Sawada Tsunayoshi, I will trust you. But if I see once that you step away from that path, I will not hesitate to shoot you. Am I clear?”
Tsuna nodded once.
“Good.” And with that, Reborn turned and exited his room via the window, hopping onto the tree outside and out of sight.
He’d seemed tense and wary the entire time, but Tsuna could not help feeling triumphant; he hadn’t been shot, for one, and two, Reborn was giving him a chance.
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I know. I know. I did the unthinkable. Second chapter in and someone already knows. Honestly! What’s the point of the story if everyone already knows?
I get it. Really. But this was my decision, because I really didn’t see any other way around it. I can’t make Reborn turn a blind eye to something he would spot immediately. I can’t turn Tsuna into a spectacular liar. I tried to think of a way Reborn would not learn about Tsuna’s predicament, but I couldn’t, because Reborn is the world’s greatest hitman like that. If I stayed true to everyone’s character, Reborn would have to know. I also think that if he had doubts and Tsuna told him nothing, he would immediately let the Ninth and Tsuna’s dad know, which would draw in many other characters and create a mess. Keep in mind, also, that half of Tsuna’s thoughts are from the previous Tsuna, who would tell Reborn something like that without hesitance.
Besides, that type of thing is something I’d spill to someone else, just so I’d be able to rant about it. Yes, there is some danger in telling future events to people, but Tsuna hasn’t realized that yet. Poor kid.
On the other hand: Reborn’s feelings. Again, I didn’t a lot of flexibility with this if I wanted to keep Reborn’s character. I kind of feel he’s not the type of person to trust in feelings; he’s much more of a cautious character, I think. My theory is that if he were to have very strong feeling out of the blue, he’d be even more wary of it; but since Tsuna’s story fits, and Tsuna’s sincere… he decides to give it a chance. (If it doesn’t work for you, call it a deus ex machina. Haha.)
Hopefully, it worked. If it didn’t… well, let me know anyway. /does not really find the idea of rewriting 4000 words appealing/
On a completely unrelated note, how on earth did I write almost 8000 words in the span of a couple of days??? /is astonished.
chapters 1 | 2