"Letters From Home" (KHR, K+)
Title: “Letters From Home”
Author: yukari_rin
Word count: 3,129
Rating/Warnings: K+
Character(s) or pairing(s): Tsuna-centric with a host of the other in the cast of characters. Several pairings hinted and implied throughout.
Notes: Originally written for the third round at khr_undercover.
Tsuna sighed, slinging the bag from his shoulder and letting it drop on the polished wood of his desktop. Things in Italy were slightly different from how they were at home, and the high school student wasn't sure if it was a relief or a nightmare. He'd only been attending the special mafia school for a week so far, but he reminded himself that he'd all ready survived quite a few years of mafia-associated madness. What was the worst a year spent studying abroad could do to him?
He brought his hand up to scratch the back of his head when he noticed the small package sitting innocently on his bed. Experience had taught him to be wary of mysterious (and often times not so mysterious) items, though, and he approached the messily made bed with caution. His mother's handwriting caught his eye and he smiled despite his tiredness.
It was the first package of what he was sure would be many.
The young Vongola X loosened his tie as he plopped onto the stiff mattress, cringing in fear for the briefest of seconds that an explosion would follow his casual behavior. There was no ticking, no clicking, nothing out of the ordinary - he was safe. He let out a low whistle before carefully opening the box. Letters sprung up happily, as if their writers were willing them to be the first read. His mother, father, Gokudera and Yamamoto.... there was one from just about everyone. Even Kurokawa had sent him a small note on the back of a postcard featuring Tokyo Tower. Underneath the pile of letters were a few boxes of pocky and some other snacks he wasn't able to get easily now that he was nearly on the opposite side of the world.
With classes done for the day and supper a few hours away, Tsuna leaned against his pillows and picked up one of the letters, settling in for a night of reading.
Dearest Tsuna, he smiled at his mother's neat and steady writing,
We've just returned from dropping you off at the airport. All of your friends are a bit loath to leave, though, as if heading off without you would make them forget about you. You always did spend so much time together, though, so I don't blame them. After all, I'm so used to having a crowd here, I think I would miss them - in addition to you, of course - if the house was empty.
I know I said this to you when you were accepted to the study program, and again just a few hours ago at the airport, but I'm proud of you, Tsuna. You've certainly grown up quite a bit. So study hard, eat properly, sleep well, and don't forget to change your underwear every day.
Love,
Mom
P.S. - Wouldn't you agree, now, that hiring Reborn to be your tutor has been worth it?
Tsuna let out a strangled laugh. Reborn's torture, worth it? If only she knew. He folded the letter and returned it to its envelope, and reached for another. This one was shorter, he noticed from the size of the envelope, from his father.
Son,
I'm proud of you, I always knew you could do it. Tsuna frowned at the paper. It looked as if it had been through a war - after the first sentence the paper was smudged and worn from what seemed to be heavy erasure. Near the middle of the page his father's handwriting switched to Italian, the script more delicate than anything he believe possible for his father to create.
I won't say that I'm sorry, but I do hope that one day you'll be able to forgive me. When that day comes, we'll have a nice long talk, man-to-man, over some cold beer. But until then, I'll trust in you.
And don't forget to write your mother every now and then. She'd like it more than you know.
-Dad
Brown eyes flicked over the words over and over; three, four times. In recent years Tsuna had had the privilege (as he considered it to be) of seeing his father's serious side a handful of times, however often it left him surprised at how dual-natured the older man's personality was. He wondered if Iemitsu had always been like that, or if it was the mafia or his mother that brought the two sides out. It didn't really have any bearing on the issue at hand, but still, Tsuna wondered if he'd wind up the same way in a few more years.
He reread the letter once more. In his heart, Tsuna had all ready forgiven the powers that be for the way his life had ended up. Sure, it wasn't what he had wanted, rather - what he thought he wanted, but somehow he had found contentment with being the heir to a powerful mafia famiglia. He still had a mountain of doubts, to be sure, but compared to the twelve year-old boy he had once been, he was far from being a loser.
Tsu-kun, small, feminine strokes spelt on lined paper that smelled faintly of flowers. The young man sat up and cleared his throat. He had never received a letter from Kyoko before. Never really received anything from her, aside from the good luck charm he still wore near his heart.
You're leaving for Italy tomorrow, but we've all been writing letters to you for weeks now, so that you can be surprised once you've started school. It was your mother's idea. She thought you'd get homesick, and that if everyone sent you something, it'd help cheer you up. Is it working? I hope so.
How are your classes going? Have you made any friends? Gokudera showed Haru and me some pictures of the town you're in, it looks beautiful. Be sure to take lots of pictures to share, okay?
I'll be counting down the days, Tsu-kun, until you return. I have something I want to tell you once you do. Would you be willing to listen?
Please write back, if you have the time.
Sincerely,
Kyoko
His heart racing faster than it ever had (faster than when Reborn shot him in the forehead for the first time, faster than when Gokudera showed up, faster than anything Mukuro or Byakuran had ever caused), Tsuna only remembered to breath when he felt himself going light-headed. Had Kyoko-chan really written that? He looked at the letter. Yes, she had. “Oh boy,” he whispered, his voice raising an octave, shaking as if he was shivering. Incidentally, Kurokawa's postcard was the first thing his free hand fell on while he tried to reach for the bottled water he kept on his nightstand.
It was without any salutation, written in what must have been permanent marker. You're more impressive than I thought. Don't screw up. -Kurokawa. The serious-mannered girl was always ready with words to shoot him back to the ground when her best friend caused him to lose his grip. Hana's note broke the tension building in his mind, and he laughed freely. There were still fifty-one weeks to go before he'd return to Namimori. School and its related activities could only take up so much time, but the rest of it he'd spend keeping in touch with his friends and family back home. And maybe he'd get closer to knowing what exactly Kyoko wanted to tell him.
Tsuna took a long draft of the water and continued rather distractedly for a few minutes, forcing himself to go back and read bits of letters he had passed over while imagining what lay in store for him and the young woman he had adored for so long now. Lambo and I-Pin joined together to write a letter, the handwriting switching back and forth between the Tunder Guardian's messy scrawl and the Chinese hitwoman's precise mix of kanji and hiragana. The letter made him chuckle and groan - Lambo would easily run onto a tangent and it was obvious I-Pin had to grab the paper away from him to apologize and try to return the letter to its intended purpose, which seemed to have gotten lost somewhere along the lines. It was so like them that it made his heart hurt with nostalgia.
Ryohei's was next, written in large (often misspelt) words with so many “extreme”s sprinkled in that Tsuna lost count after the fifteenth. He could practically hear the older boy's voice in his ear as he read. There were letters from Basil and Dino, offering suggestions on places to visit when he had the time, advice on how to handle particular situations, and general miscellanea they thought would be helpful. Dino even included a detailed list of the teachers that he thought may still be at the school, giving him pointers for how to manage being in their classes. There wasn't too much ink splattered about the paper, so Romario must have been with him to make sure it was all legible. Fuuta's letter was made up of his ranking lists. Tsuna's heart sunk as he saw how he compared to his peers in several subjects, but when one list ranked the male students most likely to get pedicures in sparkly pink nail polish he decided to take all the lists with a grain of salt. Bianchi's was a list of her favorite restaurants and meals that he shouldn't miss out on. She didn't say if they were poisoned or not, though. Even Lonchamp managed to get a letter included.
Hey, young Vongola!
Italy's famous for its beautiful women, but none of them will be able to beat my newest girlfriend, Himeko. Himeko's better than all the other girlfriends I've had in the past, and I really think I'm going to marry her! Here's a picture, don't get to jealous now!
Included was a small snapshot of the ever obnoxious Tomaso Family boss with what he could only believe to be a woman due to the other man's words. She certainly looked like the type of girl Longchamp fancied, and Tsuna wished them well, stuffing the letter and photograph into the envelope they arrived in, but he knew better than to think the relationship was still in full blossom.
He wasn't certain what Gokudera's could be considered, though.
His Right-hand man's letter had to be taped into its envelope, and the sheaves of paper were filled with Japanese and the occasional Italian. It opened Dear most venerable Boss and the first three pages (double-sided) were wishes of his success - though the Storm Guardian was absolutely certain that nothing but his Boss' success could happen. As he read the letter, it was as if Gokudera was in the room with him, so loud was his personality coming through in his words. After that the three quarter-Italian wrote about his plans to maintain the Family's alliances and members during the year. He complained about Yamamoto's increasing fame in the high school baseball world, and how the taller boy was all ready being scouted by colleges and the pro-leagues while being a high school junior. He wrote that Chrome was still quiet and hung out with the two boys from Kokuyo too much and that he'd endeavor to ascertain that her allegiance was to the Vongola. Hibari was as distant as ever, and refused to attend any of the meetings Gokdera scheduled for the Guardians.
But rest assured, Tenth, everyone is keeping up with their Italian lessons. While Turf-top still struggles with the basics (he can still barely say anything other than the shady compliments Shamal has taught him, but Kurokawa seems to appreciate the sound of them, even if she doesn't ask what they mean) Hibari must have gotten a few pointers from the Cavalone, because he doesn't even have an accent when explaining just how he will bite someone to death in Italian.
Sasagawa-san and that stupid woman still come for the lessons when they have a chance, but I'm being careful to only teach them conversational Italian, just enough to get by should they ever visit. I'll await your orders for how I should proceed if they wish to explore the language more fully.
The entire letter had a business-like formality to it, but it was in the last paragraph on the eleventh page that broke the boss-follower tone.
You've been gone a few days now, boss. I wish I was there with you, but you know how Reborn said you had to do this by yourself. I'm doing the best I can here in your stead, but it's obvious that I don't have your leading ability. I can't believe I ever thought I could be the Tenth. I'm honored to not only serve you, but to be your friend as well. Don't forget we're here, Boss! We're waiting for you.
Respectfully submitted by the Underboss and Tenth Storm Guardian of the Respected Vongola Family of Crime in Italy,
Gokudera Hayato
“Time and places may change, but Gokudera's still the same,” Tsuna murmured to himself. He set the thick letter to the side, promising himself to reply to it tonight.
Dear Boss,
I hope things are going well for you in Italy.
It looked like Chrome's handwriting, so small and nearly illegible, as if she was embarrassed to even write him. But after the first sentence a more masculine hand took over, flowing masterfully over the page.
Sawada Tsunayoshi, if your bold words of dismantling the mafia are true, there is a small matter I think you may be interested in seeing to...
Mukuro's story of a lesser family poking into the Estraneo Family's lighter sins sent a foreboding shiver down his spine, and the older man's posed challenge to Tsuna to take care of the matter all by himself was clear. He'd ask some questions at supper and see if he could get any further leads. It seemed to Tsuna that despite being locked up for as many years as Mukuro had been that it didn't stop the criminal from maintaining his information network.
Yo, Tsuna!
How's Italy? I bet it's really different from Japan, huh? Gokudera told me your classes were held in Italian - I don't think I'd be able to manage that. You're really something.
Baseball's picking up again, and I've got a lot of people coming to see me, haha! It's pretty embarrassing, but I'm holding up under the pressure this time. The other night, a coach from the Tigers came over to the restaurant after a game. Wanted to talk to me and dad about my opportunities in the game. A lot of it went over my head, to be honest /(^_^);, but when he called it a game, it made me think of the mafia. It's not a game, I get that now. And I'm proud to be your Rain. But I love being on the diamond with my uniform on.
I... I know that when we went to the future we learned I played baseball professionally, but is it really okay for me to do it? If the future should repeat itself, I want to take care of my dad while I can, whether that means being away from home but making money for him to take it easy or staying around and dedicating myself to the Family. I just don't know. I need your advice, Tsuna.
-Yamamoto
If the future repeated itself.... Shortly after returning from the future they had found Irie and after months of clearing up misunderstandings had befriended him. They were doing all they could to change the future, but there was no way to be certain they could. Yamamoto must have been struggling with that fact more than he let on when they all hung out. To know his father would (could?) die from his son being in the mafia... it brought back all the painful memories from his first days in the future with the older Takeshi. But it wasn't a decision Tsuna could make for his friend. He set the letter atop Gokudera's for later.
Sawada-kun,
Having left your sweet and innocent kittens here in Japan, I feel it is my duty to help you find female companionship in Italy. Here are a few hints and phrases to help
Tsuna stopped reading Shamal's letter in the middle of the sentence and crumbled it into a ball, tossing it into the small garbage can near his desk. The shot missed, of course, but at least it was on its way to where it belonged.
Dear Tsuna-san,
Haru will make this letter quick, before she begins crying.
Kyoko-chan has informed me of what she wrote you, and knowing how you feel about her, Haru believes it is only right to relinquish her claims on your heart and future. Haru knows you will be very happy with Kyoko-chan.
But know this! By giving up her love for you, Haru doesn't give up our friendship! While it looks like Haru cannont be a mafia boss's wife anymore, she still intends to be a part of Tsuna-san's family!
Oh dear, Haru is starting to tear up.... Tsuna-san, Haru will write again, if you'll let her.
With the best wishes anyone could give!,
Miura Haru
P.S. - Please tell Gokudera to teach Kyoko-chan and Haru more than colloquial Italian, Tsuna-san. We're going to need it!
The enthusiastic girl's short letter stunned him to small degree. For years Haru had ignored his and the others' protesting of her feelings and aspirations. Yet with a few words from Kyoko it was all dissolved. He had never taken her claims that she'd be his future wife seriously, but to have her formally acknowledging she no longer wanted that, it felt as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. It was odd, but entirely within line for how the strange girl tended to make him feel.
There were only a few letters left to read, and it was nearly supper time. Looking through the remaining letters for one last one to read before heading to the dining hall, Tsuna found what he was looking for. Reborn's letter.
It was short, which didn't surprise him at all. It wasn't booby-trapped, either, which did.
Tsuna,
Don't disappoint me.
I'm proud of you.
-Reborn
The young man's heart swelled. Reborn gave compliments few and far between, and Tsuna couldn't remember ever receiving one that wasn't dripping with sarcasm or back-handed.
Reborn was proud of him, and knowing that, Tsuna felt most of his reservations about being in Italy for a year melt away. Reborn thought he could do it, and the Arcobaleno hadn't been wrong yet.
“No,” Tsuna nodded to the letter in his hands. “I won't disappoint you.”
Author: yukari_rin
Word count: 3,129
Rating/Warnings: K+
Character(s) or pairing(s): Tsuna-centric with a host of the other in the cast of characters. Several pairings hinted and implied throughout.
Notes: Originally written for the third round at khr_undercover.
Tsuna sighed, slinging the bag from his shoulder and letting it drop on the polished wood of his desktop. Things in Italy were slightly different from how they were at home, and the high school student wasn't sure if it was a relief or a nightmare. He'd only been attending the special mafia school for a week so far, but he reminded himself that he'd all ready survived quite a few years of mafia-associated madness. What was the worst a year spent studying abroad could do to him?
He brought his hand up to scratch the back of his head when he noticed the small package sitting innocently on his bed. Experience had taught him to be wary of mysterious (and often times not so mysterious) items, though, and he approached the messily made bed with caution. His mother's handwriting caught his eye and he smiled despite his tiredness.
It was the first package of what he was sure would be many.
The young Vongola X loosened his tie as he plopped onto the stiff mattress, cringing in fear for the briefest of seconds that an explosion would follow his casual behavior. There was no ticking, no clicking, nothing out of the ordinary - he was safe. He let out a low whistle before carefully opening the box. Letters sprung up happily, as if their writers were willing them to be the first read. His mother, father, Gokudera and Yamamoto.... there was one from just about everyone. Even Kurokawa had sent him a small note on the back of a postcard featuring Tokyo Tower. Underneath the pile of letters were a few boxes of pocky and some other snacks he wasn't able to get easily now that he was nearly on the opposite side of the world.
With classes done for the day and supper a few hours away, Tsuna leaned against his pillows and picked up one of the letters, settling in for a night of reading.
Dearest Tsuna, he smiled at his mother's neat and steady writing,
We've just returned from dropping you off at the airport. All of your friends are a bit loath to leave, though, as if heading off without you would make them forget about you. You always did spend so much time together, though, so I don't blame them. After all, I'm so used to having a crowd here, I think I would miss them - in addition to you, of course - if the house was empty.
I know I said this to you when you were accepted to the study program, and again just a few hours ago at the airport, but I'm proud of you, Tsuna. You've certainly grown up quite a bit. So study hard, eat properly, sleep well, and don't forget to change your underwear every day.
Love,
Mom
P.S. - Wouldn't you agree, now, that hiring Reborn to be your tutor has been worth it?
Tsuna let out a strangled laugh. Reborn's torture, worth it? If only she knew. He folded the letter and returned it to its envelope, and reached for another. This one was shorter, he noticed from the size of the envelope, from his father.
Son,
I'm proud of you, I always knew you could do it. Tsuna frowned at the paper. It looked as if it had been through a war - after the first sentence the paper was smudged and worn from what seemed to be heavy erasure. Near the middle of the page his father's handwriting switched to Italian, the script more delicate than anything he believe possible for his father to create.
I won't say that I'm sorry, but I do hope that one day you'll be able to forgive me. When that day comes, we'll have a nice long talk, man-to-man, over some cold beer. But until then, I'll trust in you.
And don't forget to write your mother every now and then. She'd like it more than you know.
-Dad
Brown eyes flicked over the words over and over; three, four times. In recent years Tsuna had had the privilege (as he considered it to be) of seeing his father's serious side a handful of times, however often it left him surprised at how dual-natured the older man's personality was. He wondered if Iemitsu had always been like that, or if it was the mafia or his mother that brought the two sides out. It didn't really have any bearing on the issue at hand, but still, Tsuna wondered if he'd wind up the same way in a few more years.
He reread the letter once more. In his heart, Tsuna had all ready forgiven the powers that be for the way his life had ended up. Sure, it wasn't what he had wanted, rather - what he thought he wanted, but somehow he had found contentment with being the heir to a powerful mafia famiglia. He still had a mountain of doubts, to be sure, but compared to the twelve year-old boy he had once been, he was far from being a loser.
Tsu-kun, small, feminine strokes spelt on lined paper that smelled faintly of flowers. The young man sat up and cleared his throat. He had never received a letter from Kyoko before. Never really received anything from her, aside from the good luck charm he still wore near his heart.
You're leaving for Italy tomorrow, but we've all been writing letters to you for weeks now, so that you can be surprised once you've started school. It was your mother's idea. She thought you'd get homesick, and that if everyone sent you something, it'd help cheer you up. Is it working? I hope so.
How are your classes going? Have you made any friends? Gokudera showed Haru and me some pictures of the town you're in, it looks beautiful. Be sure to take lots of pictures to share, okay?
I'll be counting down the days, Tsu-kun, until you return. I have something I want to tell you once you do. Would you be willing to listen?
Please write back, if you have the time.
Sincerely,
Kyoko
His heart racing faster than it ever had (faster than when Reborn shot him in the forehead for the first time, faster than when Gokudera showed up, faster than anything Mukuro or Byakuran had ever caused), Tsuna only remembered to breath when he felt himself going light-headed. Had Kyoko-chan really written that? He looked at the letter. Yes, she had. “Oh boy,” he whispered, his voice raising an octave, shaking as if he was shivering. Incidentally, Kurokawa's postcard was the first thing his free hand fell on while he tried to reach for the bottled water he kept on his nightstand.
It was without any salutation, written in what must have been permanent marker. You're more impressive than I thought. Don't screw up. -Kurokawa. The serious-mannered girl was always ready with words to shoot him back to the ground when her best friend caused him to lose his grip. Hana's note broke the tension building in his mind, and he laughed freely. There were still fifty-one weeks to go before he'd return to Namimori. School and its related activities could only take up so much time, but the rest of it he'd spend keeping in touch with his friends and family back home. And maybe he'd get closer to knowing what exactly Kyoko wanted to tell him.
Tsuna took a long draft of the water and continued rather distractedly for a few minutes, forcing himself to go back and read bits of letters he had passed over while imagining what lay in store for him and the young woman he had adored for so long now. Lambo and I-Pin joined together to write a letter, the handwriting switching back and forth between the Tunder Guardian's messy scrawl and the Chinese hitwoman's precise mix of kanji and hiragana. The letter made him chuckle and groan - Lambo would easily run onto a tangent and it was obvious I-Pin had to grab the paper away from him to apologize and try to return the letter to its intended purpose, which seemed to have gotten lost somewhere along the lines. It was so like them that it made his heart hurt with nostalgia.
Ryohei's was next, written in large (often misspelt) words with so many “extreme”s sprinkled in that Tsuna lost count after the fifteenth. He could practically hear the older boy's voice in his ear as he read. There were letters from Basil and Dino, offering suggestions on places to visit when he had the time, advice on how to handle particular situations, and general miscellanea they thought would be helpful. Dino even included a detailed list of the teachers that he thought may still be at the school, giving him pointers for how to manage being in their classes. There wasn't too much ink splattered about the paper, so Romario must have been with him to make sure it was all legible. Fuuta's letter was made up of his ranking lists. Tsuna's heart sunk as he saw how he compared to his peers in several subjects, but when one list ranked the male students most likely to get pedicures in sparkly pink nail polish he decided to take all the lists with a grain of salt. Bianchi's was a list of her favorite restaurants and meals that he shouldn't miss out on. She didn't say if they were poisoned or not, though. Even Lonchamp managed to get a letter included.
Hey, young Vongola!
Italy's famous for its beautiful women, but none of them will be able to beat my newest girlfriend, Himeko. Himeko's better than all the other girlfriends I've had in the past, and I really think I'm going to marry her! Here's a picture, don't get to jealous now!
Included was a small snapshot of the ever obnoxious Tomaso Family boss with what he could only believe to be a woman due to the other man's words. She certainly looked like the type of girl Longchamp fancied, and Tsuna wished them well, stuffing the letter and photograph into the envelope they arrived in, but he knew better than to think the relationship was still in full blossom.
He wasn't certain what Gokudera's could be considered, though.
His Right-hand man's letter had to be taped into its envelope, and the sheaves of paper were filled with Japanese and the occasional Italian. It opened Dear most venerable Boss and the first three pages (double-sided) were wishes of his success - though the Storm Guardian was absolutely certain that nothing but his Boss' success could happen. As he read the letter, it was as if Gokudera was in the room with him, so loud was his personality coming through in his words. After that the three quarter-Italian wrote about his plans to maintain the Family's alliances and members during the year. He complained about Yamamoto's increasing fame in the high school baseball world, and how the taller boy was all ready being scouted by colleges and the pro-leagues while being a high school junior. He wrote that Chrome was still quiet and hung out with the two boys from Kokuyo too much and that he'd endeavor to ascertain that her allegiance was to the Vongola. Hibari was as distant as ever, and refused to attend any of the meetings Gokdera scheduled for the Guardians.
But rest assured, Tenth, everyone is keeping up with their Italian lessons. While Turf-top still struggles with the basics (he can still barely say anything other than the shady compliments Shamal has taught him, but Kurokawa seems to appreciate the sound of them, even if she doesn't ask what they mean) Hibari must have gotten a few pointers from the Cavalone, because he doesn't even have an accent when explaining just how he will bite someone to death in Italian.
Sasagawa-san and that stupid woman still come for the lessons when they have a chance, but I'm being careful to only teach them conversational Italian, just enough to get by should they ever visit. I'll await your orders for how I should proceed if they wish to explore the language more fully.
The entire letter had a business-like formality to it, but it was in the last paragraph on the eleventh page that broke the boss-follower tone.
You've been gone a few days now, boss. I wish I was there with you, but you know how Reborn said you had to do this by yourself. I'm doing the best I can here in your stead, but it's obvious that I don't have your leading ability. I can't believe I ever thought I could be the Tenth. I'm honored to not only serve you, but to be your friend as well. Don't forget we're here, Boss! We're waiting for you.
Respectfully submitted by the Underboss and Tenth Storm Guardian of the Respected Vongola Family of Crime in Italy,
Gokudera Hayato
“Time and places may change, but Gokudera's still the same,” Tsuna murmured to himself. He set the thick letter to the side, promising himself to reply to it tonight.
Dear Boss,
I hope things are going well for you in Italy.
It looked like Chrome's handwriting, so small and nearly illegible, as if she was embarrassed to even write him. But after the first sentence a more masculine hand took over, flowing masterfully over the page.
Sawada Tsunayoshi, if your bold words of dismantling the mafia are true, there is a small matter I think you may be interested in seeing to...
Mukuro's story of a lesser family poking into the Estraneo Family's lighter sins sent a foreboding shiver down his spine, and the older man's posed challenge to Tsuna to take care of the matter all by himself was clear. He'd ask some questions at supper and see if he could get any further leads. It seemed to Tsuna that despite being locked up for as many years as Mukuro had been that it didn't stop the criminal from maintaining his information network.
Yo, Tsuna!
How's Italy? I bet it's really different from Japan, huh? Gokudera told me your classes were held in Italian - I don't think I'd be able to manage that. You're really something.
Baseball's picking up again, and I've got a lot of people coming to see me, haha! It's pretty embarrassing, but I'm holding up under the pressure this time. The other night, a coach from the Tigers came over to the restaurant after a game. Wanted to talk to me and dad about my opportunities in the game. A lot of it went over my head, to be honest /(^_^);, but when he called it a game, it made me think of the mafia. It's not a game, I get that now. And I'm proud to be your Rain. But I love being on the diamond with my uniform on.
I... I know that when we went to the future we learned I played baseball professionally, but is it really okay for me to do it? If the future should repeat itself, I want to take care of my dad while I can, whether that means being away from home but making money for him to take it easy or staying around and dedicating myself to the Family. I just don't know. I need your advice, Tsuna.
-Yamamoto
If the future repeated itself.... Shortly after returning from the future they had found Irie and after months of clearing up misunderstandings had befriended him. They were doing all they could to change the future, but there was no way to be certain they could. Yamamoto must have been struggling with that fact more than he let on when they all hung out. To know his father would (could?) die from his son being in the mafia... it brought back all the painful memories from his first days in the future with the older Takeshi. But it wasn't a decision Tsuna could make for his friend. He set the letter atop Gokudera's for later.
Sawada-kun,
Having left your sweet and innocent kittens here in Japan, I feel it is my duty to help you find female companionship in Italy. Here are a few hints and phrases to help
Tsuna stopped reading Shamal's letter in the middle of the sentence and crumbled it into a ball, tossing it into the small garbage can near his desk. The shot missed, of course, but at least it was on its way to where it belonged.
Dear Tsuna-san,
Haru will make this letter quick, before she begins crying.
Kyoko-chan has informed me of what she wrote you, and knowing how you feel about her, Haru believes it is only right to relinquish her claims on your heart and future. Haru knows you will be very happy with Kyoko-chan.
But know this! By giving up her love for you, Haru doesn't give up our friendship! While it looks like Haru cannont be a mafia boss's wife anymore, she still intends to be a part of Tsuna-san's family!
Oh dear, Haru is starting to tear up.... Tsuna-san, Haru will write again, if you'll let her.
With the best wishes anyone could give!,
Miura Haru
P.S. - Please tell Gokudera to teach Kyoko-chan and Haru more than colloquial Italian, Tsuna-san. We're going to need it!
The enthusiastic girl's short letter stunned him to small degree. For years Haru had ignored his and the others' protesting of her feelings and aspirations. Yet with a few words from Kyoko it was all dissolved. He had never taken her claims that she'd be his future wife seriously, but to have her formally acknowledging she no longer wanted that, it felt as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. It was odd, but entirely within line for how the strange girl tended to make him feel.
There were only a few letters left to read, and it was nearly supper time. Looking through the remaining letters for one last one to read before heading to the dining hall, Tsuna found what he was looking for. Reborn's letter.
It was short, which didn't surprise him at all. It wasn't booby-trapped, either, which did.
Tsuna,
Don't disappoint me.
I'm proud of you.
-Reborn
The young man's heart swelled. Reborn gave compliments few and far between, and Tsuna couldn't remember ever receiving one that wasn't dripping with sarcasm or back-handed.
Reborn was proud of him, and knowing that, Tsuna felt most of his reservations about being in Italy for a year melt away. Reborn thought he could do it, and the Arcobaleno hadn't been wrong yet.
“No,” Tsuna nodded to the letter in his hands. “I won't disappoint you.”