(Katekyo Hitman Reborn) Belief
Title: Belief
Set/Prompt: I // 2. Haru-life isn’t always what you want it to be; “Holding out for a hero”
Characters/Pairings: TYL!Haru, TYL!cast, mentions of Haru/Tsuna
A/N: Set in the future arc, though it might be slightly different because as far as I know, everyone thought TYL!Tsuna was dead, though he wasn’t.
Summary: She can’t see anything anymore.
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“He’s dead.”
No. No. No. No.
-x-
Haru believes in many things-in pots of gold at the end of rainbows, in friendship, in that perfect romance.
And perhaps that is why this hurts the most, this betrayal of reality.
Tsuna should be alive. Tsuna, with his weak grins and brave stances, should be blanching at Gokudera’s antics and talking to Reborn seriously before he goes to bed. He likes to do that, though he no longer needs his tutor or his advice. An hour before he sleeps, he disappears into a corner, his smile slipping of his face and instead the calm, hardened face of a mafia boss taking over.
(They know about that, though Tsuna tries to shield them still. He hides letters and newspapers and gives a sheepish smile when Kyoko and Haru corner him, fed up of being locked out.
He knows better, he really does, only he can’t stop that habit, built into his reflexes after years of fear and worry.)
Then he bids them goodnight, disappearing into the hallways of their headquarters, and Kyoko and Haru quietly traipse upstairs after him, smiling at each other when he enters his room.
Mornings are better, because Tsuna isn’t always fully awake and he stumbles slightly as he makes his way to the dining hall. His hair is rumpled, his eyes rubbed sleepily, and-
That’s the morning light Haru sees now. The morning light, streaming into their kitchen, reflecting off their metal pots.
She already has three plates set up, one for her, Kyoko, and Tsuna. Kyoko hasn’t appeared, and with a jolt, Haru realizes that Tsuna won’t either.
Never again, because he’s dead. Dead dead dead. He’s gone somewhere they can’t follow anymore, somewhere dark and empty. There’ll be no more “Wow, that’s amazing” and scarfing down the meal, no more meandering through halls and streets with a tired look. No more Tuesday nights and cake decorating and-
There’ll be no more Tsuna. She won’t see his steady stare, his soft smile, his thick hair.
She won’t see anything.
-x-
No. She won’t believe it.
“He’ll come for us.”