Reborn! shortfic - Brand New Sky
Title - Brand New Sky
Author - makeste
Rating - G
Characters/Pairings - Tsuna-centric, gen
Warnings/Notes - No warnings I can think of. The title is a Foo Fighters reference. XD
Summary - Somewhere along the line, Tsuna grew up a little.
---
Sometimes, every once in a long while, Tsuna can almost see what they see.
It doesn’t happen often; usually right after he’s managed to say or do something undeniably cool (which is a rare occasion in and of itself). And usually it doesn’t last too long; sometimes only a second or two. He has a tendency, like when looking at one of those Magic Eye pictures, to lose sight of it almost immediately unless he’s only looking at it from out of the corner of his eye.
But he sees it, nonetheless: an almost intangible quality, and one that’s almost impossible to describe. For him, anyway, because he’s never quite sat well with the adjective Yamamoto and Gokudera-kun and all of the others prefer to use. There isn’t, and never has been, anything ‘amazing’ about him.
There is, however, something there that he’d never known before meeting Reborn. Something peculiarly strong and remarkably resilient, something that the other adjective he’s heard all his life-‘no-good’-definitely doesn’t seem to fit. He can’t put a finger on when it first appeared; it’s not as though he just woke up one morning all ready to go kick ass as the tenth boss of the Vongola family. Or maybe he did. He really doesn’t have a clue.
All he knows is that sometimes he looks in the mirror and he suddenly realizes how different he is from when this all first started, and the contrast hits him like a slap in the face.
It’s weird, because there’s still that part of him that hasn’t changed one bit, the part that always made a laughably pathetic effort (most everything about him was pathetic back then) to resist Reborn’s wanton violence and insanity. That part of him hates how deeply he’s let himself be dragged down into all of this, how much he’s given in. It’s the part that’s always feared anything that stands out-anything that isn’t normal.
But there’s another part of him, the part Reborn so unapologetically sunk his teeth into. The part that comes face-to-face with death every time the bullet hits his forehead, and understands that nothing in life could possibly be more frightening than never living at all.
And that’s the part of him that can’t imagine ever going back to the way things were.
He’s still not big on the violence, and really, he never will be. He’s not too keen on the insanity either, though if chaos travels hand-in-hand with his friends then he’ll embrace it, no questions asked. That’s the one thing both sides of him are sure about: no matter what happens, he never wants to be parted from these people. If it means accepting his role in the mafia world and all that comes with it, he’ll do it, although he’s not beyond clinging stubbornly to the hope of an alternative. At least, not yet.
But even more than the changes in the world around him, it’s the changes in himself that this part of him clings to the most. It’s the realization that he’s more than just No-Good Tsuna; that there’s something inside of him that’s strong enough to confront his fears, and resourceful enough to overcome them. Something hopeful enough to inspire others, brave enough to trust them, and sure enough to shoulder the responsibility of keeping them safe.
He’s never been especially bright, but he’s not stupid either, and when he sees those things, it doesn’t escape him that those are the qualities of a leader. And that is perhaps the scariest insight of all, and one which almost always makes him hastily look away. He isn’t ready for that; not yet. But the thought still lingers, in the back of his mind, that maybe one day he could be.
Most of the time he buries it, shying as far from the idea as possible. When a grinning Yamamoto tells him he’s an amazing guy, he replies that he’s not half as amazing as Yamamoto himself. When an apologetic Gokudera drops to his knees insisting that he’s not worthy, Tsuna is properly mortified and frantically assures him that he really doesn’t have to do that, it’s okay. In sharp contrast from the people around him who struggle to win recognition and success, Tsuna goes out of his way to convince people that he’s really no one special.
Most of the time, he even believes it, and the thought makes him content.
But every so often, he catches that flicker of orange flame in his reflection, and he does see something more.
Author - makeste
Rating - G
Characters/Pairings - Tsuna-centric, gen
Warnings/Notes - No warnings I can think of. The title is a Foo Fighters reference. XD
Summary - Somewhere along the line, Tsuna grew up a little.
---
Sometimes, every once in a long while, Tsuna can almost see what they see.
It doesn’t happen often; usually right after he’s managed to say or do something undeniably cool (which is a rare occasion in and of itself). And usually it doesn’t last too long; sometimes only a second or two. He has a tendency, like when looking at one of those Magic Eye pictures, to lose sight of it almost immediately unless he’s only looking at it from out of the corner of his eye.
But he sees it, nonetheless: an almost intangible quality, and one that’s almost impossible to describe. For him, anyway, because he’s never quite sat well with the adjective Yamamoto and Gokudera-kun and all of the others prefer to use. There isn’t, and never has been, anything ‘amazing’ about him.
There is, however, something there that he’d never known before meeting Reborn. Something peculiarly strong and remarkably resilient, something that the other adjective he’s heard all his life-‘no-good’-definitely doesn’t seem to fit. He can’t put a finger on when it first appeared; it’s not as though he just woke up one morning all ready to go kick ass as the tenth boss of the Vongola family. Or maybe he did. He really doesn’t have a clue.
All he knows is that sometimes he looks in the mirror and he suddenly realizes how different he is from when this all first started, and the contrast hits him like a slap in the face.
It’s weird, because there’s still that part of him that hasn’t changed one bit, the part that always made a laughably pathetic effort (most everything about him was pathetic back then) to resist Reborn’s wanton violence and insanity. That part of him hates how deeply he’s let himself be dragged down into all of this, how much he’s given in. It’s the part that’s always feared anything that stands out-anything that isn’t normal.
But there’s another part of him, the part Reborn so unapologetically sunk his teeth into. The part that comes face-to-face with death every time the bullet hits his forehead, and understands that nothing in life could possibly be more frightening than never living at all.
And that’s the part of him that can’t imagine ever going back to the way things were.
He’s still not big on the violence, and really, he never will be. He’s not too keen on the insanity either, though if chaos travels hand-in-hand with his friends then he’ll embrace it, no questions asked. That’s the one thing both sides of him are sure about: no matter what happens, he never wants to be parted from these people. If it means accepting his role in the mafia world and all that comes with it, he’ll do it, although he’s not beyond clinging stubbornly to the hope of an alternative. At least, not yet.
But even more than the changes in the world around him, it’s the changes in himself that this part of him clings to the most. It’s the realization that he’s more than just No-Good Tsuna; that there’s something inside of him that’s strong enough to confront his fears, and resourceful enough to overcome them. Something hopeful enough to inspire others, brave enough to trust them, and sure enough to shoulder the responsibility of keeping them safe.
He’s never been especially bright, but he’s not stupid either, and when he sees those things, it doesn’t escape him that those are the qualities of a leader. And that is perhaps the scariest insight of all, and one which almost always makes him hastily look away. He isn’t ready for that; not yet. But the thought still lingers, in the back of his mind, that maybe one day he could be.
Most of the time he buries it, shying as far from the idea as possible. When a grinning Yamamoto tells him he’s an amazing guy, he replies that he’s not half as amazing as Yamamoto himself. When an apologetic Gokudera drops to his knees insisting that he’s not worthy, Tsuna is properly mortified and frantically assures him that he really doesn’t have to do that, it’s okay. In sharp contrast from the people around him who struggle to win recognition and success, Tsuna goes out of his way to convince people that he’s really no one special.
Most of the time, he even believes it, and the thought makes him content.
But every so often, he catches that flicker of orange flame in his reflection, and he does see something more.