[khr] Requiem in the Rain
Title:: Requiem in the Rain [Part I/III]
Fandom:: Katekyo Hitman Reborn
Character(s):: Yamamoto Takeshi, with appearances by Yamamoto Tsuyoshi, Sawada Iemitsu, Sawada Tsunayoshi, Reborn, Gokudera Hayato, and some Ocs.
Rating:: PG13
Word Count:: 14.443 in total.
Warning:: language, minor violence and blood, character deaths, OCs, oh and UBER-LONG.
Disclaimer:: Apparently, though I share almost the same amount of insanity as Amano, I don’t own this series. OCs are mine though.
Summary:: This was a story of Yamamoto Takeshi. These were the reasons why he loved baseball, never stopped smiling, had endless and strong resolution, and branded as natural born killer. Reborn had always been right about him from the start.
Beta'd by:
chocobo_ed
Illustration art by:redmoonmurder
A/N: Written for khrminibang challenge 2009. This is also the fic that I've been wanting to write since one year ago and finally I can rest in peace, because I WROTE YAMAMOTO'S BACKSTORY, YAY! -cough- Here's part one for now. Shall post the remaining parts tomorrow.
In the bleak future that you’re in now, sometimes you look back and wonder what made you the way you are.
How could all of this be happening? Is this all but just a dream?
~Prologue~
There were three important stages in Yamamoto Takeshi’s life.
The first stage was when he was almost eight-the first time he saw the wonder of this sport called baseball.
The second stage was when he was almost fourteen-when he became a part of Tsuna’s very realistic Mafia role playing game and when he inherited the Shigure Souen Ryuu from his father.
The last stage was when he was nineteen years old; Yamamoto killed someone with his own hands.
0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0
Yamamoto looked down on Reborn’s final resting place, a small memorial stone that marked one of the greatest Arcobaleno. There really wasn’t anything being buried under the stone for there was nothing left of Reborn. The Tre-ni-Sette Radiation spread by the Millefiore had made sure that there would be nothing left, not even a strand of hair, of every Arcobaleno being exposed to the radiation. They all died a slow and painful death. How the Millefiore had the technology to achieve that was beyond Yamamoto’s comprehension.
The Rain Guardian knelt down and traced his fingers on the golden letters forged on the marbled stone. ‘Here lies the greatest hit-man of Vongola’ it said. He laughed softly and sadly as he read it. How ironic and mocking it was, really. There was nothing-nothing buried six feet deep, and yet the inscription… The words Tsuna wrote… Yamamoto could just imagine Reborn’s reaction.
The little guy would probably kicked Tsuna’s chin or smacked his head and said, “Humph! Is this the only thing that you could come up with, No-Good Tsuna?”
Yamamoto let out a small chuckle. For all these years of knowing him, he thought that Reborn must have wanted something grander than this, something extravagant. But of course, this simple memorial stone was the only thing the Vongola could give to the Arcobaleno at a dangerous time like this.
And, this was the only thing Tsuna could give to his former home-tutor. Yamamoto knew that it took all of Tsuna’s resolve to not cry, to keep his head high and act like the great Mafia Boss Reborn had always taught him to be when he ordered for those words to be forged on that small memorial stone.
Those words were just a lie. This so called grave was just a lie. It was a lie Tsuna forced himself to tell the others who didn’t know what exactly happened to Reborn, like to Kyoko or Haru or Tsuna’s mother.
A memorial stone was only-as its name implied-a memorial stone. The main purpose of it was so people like Bianchi, like Tsuna himself, like Dino and like Yamamoto himself would have some place to go if they wanted to grieve, or mourn, or just remembering the memories they have of the Arcobaleno.
It served also as the reminder to the Vongola and its other affiliated and allied families that the greatest hitman they had ever known in the Mafia world was gone, that the Millefiore would make sure he was not the last on their hit list and that the Vongola was not the strongest Mafia family in the underworld anymore.
Seven days had passed since the stone was built, since Yamamoto started his daily visit to Reborn’s grave. He would just go there at the earliest hour in the morning without telling anyone and stood, knelt or sat in front of the stone for an hour or two remembering the things Reborn had taught him over the past ten years in silence.
Yamamoto put his sword just beside his feet so it would not hinder his movement, fixing his eyes on the sword that lay before him. This sword was not Shigure Kintoki. It was just a normal sword he got from Tsuna not long after he decided to destroy the Vongola Rings for some unknown reasons. When Yamamoto realized the sword could not synchronize well with any of the Rain Rings he had, no matter how high the purity of the rings were, Tsuna arranged for him to get a new sword.
Seeing this sword reminded the Rain Guardian of the first weapon he ever had, courtesy of Reborn. It was a baseball bat that could turn into a sword (it could be a telescope too); Yamamoto’s bat, Reborn had called it. A sword disguised as a mere baseball bat, it was so meticulous of Reborn to give him something like that. He had made use of the knowledge that Yamamoto was a great baseball player.
“Baseball, huh…” Yamamoto mumbled slowly as he tore his eyes away from the sword. He lifted his right hand up from the sword hilt and looked at the calloused palm and fingers. His brows knitted and another sad smile was formed on his face.
The last time he had held a baseball bat was a couple of months ago, at the last match of the Major League. It was a hard decision to make. But he had to choose between living his childhood dream and fulfilling his responsibility as the Rain Guardian.
He chose the latter.
~The First Stage~
Yamamoto remembered vaguely the very first time he had seen baseball match and held a baseball bat.
He was eight years old, a common boy from a common family of three, living in a common neighborhood of Namimori and lived a really common life. His father, Yamamoto Tsuyoshi, was just a common sushi chef, but his ability to handle the knife was not a common one. His mother, Yamamoto Yukiko, was just a common housewife. They were just a normal family.
And just like a normal curious Japanese boy, young Yamamoto Takeshi fell in love at the first sight of baseball. He was mesmerized, entranced, mystified… No words could describe how elated he was the first time he saw that baseball player pitch the ball and when he heard the loud ‘clunk!’ as the steel bat collided with the ball.
It was Spring then…
--
The ball was thrown with such speed that he couldn’t see the ball pass the man holding a bat. A loud ‘strike!’ was coming from the man who stood behind the heavily protected man crouching a few distance away from the batter.
Another ball was pitched. This time, it was not the loud shout of ‘strike!’ but a loud ‘clunk!’ was heard. The grip of his small hands on the fence was tightened and his eyes grew wider and wider. His mouth went agape. If it was a manga, there would probably be sparkles floating around his face right now.
He had seen baseball matches a couple of times on television (baseball was the national sport of Japan after all) while helping his parents in their sushi restaurant. But this was different, this was the first time he had seen it being played in front of him; real people, real sound, real… baseball.
Young Takeshi couldn’t take his eyes off the people on the baseball field. He was completely, utterly mesmerized by the dynamics of those people running around in the baseball field. It was as if they were gliding through the air, dashing from one place to another, reaching out to the sky, and their expression when they reach their base or when they were able to stop the other team was just so contagious it made Takeshi smile widely together with them.
His grip on the fence was tightened once again when another ball was pitched and the next batter hit it with his steel bat. His heart skipped a beat when the ball collided with the bat and it went high and higher and higher to the clear afternoon sky; the batter had already dashed away leaving his bat. In just mere seconds, he could see dashes of whites and blacks.
The people gathered beside the baseball field shouted ‘Home run!!’ and Takeshi would never forget that triumphant smile on the batter’s face as he stepped his foot on the home base.
“Takeshi!”
As if someone thrown a bucket of water on his head, Takeshi was pulled back to reality when he heard someone calling-shouting, more likely-his name. He tore his attention away from the baseball pitch and looked for whomever was calling him.
His eyes caught a glimpse of familiar dark hair and silhouette trying to pass through the small crowd of people gathered around the fence separating the baseball field and the outer field. A woman clad in a simple kimono emerged and he recognized her. It was his mother. His mother quickened her steps when their eyes met.
“Okaa-san? What are you doing here?” Takeshi asked her mother when she finally stood, panting a little bit, in front of him. Few strands of dark hair were obstructing her eyes and she flicked it away. One of her delicate eyebrows shot up when she heard Takeshi’s question.
“You should ask yourself that question, young man!” She pulled Takeshi to an embrace after she said that.
Takeshi almost sighed in delight when his face was plastered to his mother’s obi. He put his arms around his mother’s waist and tightened the embrace. He always liked it when she embraced him. He could smell the faint smell of fish and rice mixed together with a soft sakura fragrance. His mother smelled like home.
His mother pulled him away and cupped his face with her hands; their identical eyes met and Takeshi blinked as he saw the sharp piercing gaze his mother gave him.
“I was watching baseball…”
He answered the unspoken question. Takeshi couldn’t help but take his eyes away from his mother’s gaze. Her expression was a mixture of relief, worry and anger. She was scowling, her brows knitted, her thin lips clenched tight and her eyes were darkened. Every time his mother wore that kind of expression, it felt like the air around him was sucked away.
Silence ensued between the mother and son. Her piercing eyes were still fixed on his face and Takeshi was still trying to avoid it. There was some commotion around the baseball field after the match was over, but Takeshi could not hear them because his mother’s hands covered his ears.
“I was worried, Takeshi,” she said softly, “You should have come back straight from school before going elsewhere.”
“I know. I’m sorry.” He pouted a bit and his fingers fidgeted with his bag’s straps. Takeshi’s eyes met his mother’s once again. The anger was gone completely and he felt the air was coming back again.
“Next time, come back home first, okay?” A small and warm smile crept up to her face as his mother pat Takeshi’s head and took his hand. She motioned him away from the baseball field. “Let’s go back before your father calls the police. He was so worried when I left him to look for you.”
Takeshi nodded and took a glance at the baseball field where the winning team cheered before reluctantly following his mother.
--
“Umm… Okaa-san?” Takeshi called out to his mother quietly as they walked hand in hand.
“Yes?” His mother halted her step and looked down to him. Her smile was bright and he couldn’t help but smile along. It made him felt more confident with what he wanted to ask her. He had been thinking about this ever since they left the baseball field.
“I want to play baseball! Can I?”
Before she could answer the request, a boisterous loud voice was coming from behind them, calling his mother’s name.
“Yukiko! Yukiko! Wait!”
Both of them looked back to the source of the voice, Takeshi couldn’t help but cock his head to the side as he couldn’t recognize the man who was walking fast towards them. When that man finally caught up to them, Takeshi eyed him curiously.
The man was so tall he was looming over Takeshi and he had to tilt his head up to see his face. The man has weird spiky light brown bordering to blonde hair and it looked like he hadn’t shaved for a couple of days too. He was wearing an overall jumper and was chewing on a toothpick in his mouth.
“Iemitsu-san?” His mother then gave the man a curt nod. It seemed like his mother knew the man, Takeshi thought. He could feel his mother tighten her grip on his hand as the man nodded back. “I thought you weren’t going to come back from whatever you’re doing for another half a year?” She asked the man; she was smiling but the flicker of annoyance in her tone was very apparent.
“Change of schedule, there’s something I need to tell Tsuyoshi,” he said in low tone as he turned his eyes to both sides of the road, looking out for any unwanted eavesdropper. “And I need to know something about Shigu…”
“Please, Iemitsu-san!” His mother cut the man’s sentence, her smile completely gone. “I’ve told you once before that our family doesn’t want to have anything to do with that anymore!” Her voice was not as gentle as usual, it was sharp and cold.
Takeshi looked at his mother warily and confused at her sudden burst of anger. It was really rare for his mother to lose her composure like this. He had never seen her sounded so afraid and angry at the same time.
The grim look that man named Iemitsu gave to his mother made her unconsciously pulled Takeshi closer to her side. And that was when he looked down to the young boy. Takeshi blinked several times at him and cocked his head a little.
“Is this Takeshi?” The man asked as he crouched down so their eyes were on the same level. He reached out to Takeshi and patted his head. “You’re a big boy now, aren’t you? You look a lot like your father.”
Before Takeshi could open his mouth to respond, his mother had pulled him behind her, out of Iemitsu’s reach. She put her right hand over his shoulders protectively.
“Leave my son out of this,” he heard his mother hissed to the man from behind her back, “You might have failed as a parent and husband for leaving your son and wife alone in this town every now and then without telling them anything. But you should never think that I or Tsuyoshi will involve our son in this matter. And I tell you this once again, Iemitsu-san: We don’t want to be involved in…” she looked at Takeshi from the corner of her eyes, “…I don’t want to be involved in whatever it is you’re doing anymore.”
She let out a short sigh before she took her hand away from Takeshi’s shoulder and clasped both of her hands to her lap and bowed to the strange man. “Please let my family live a normal life…”
Takeshi’s forehead furrowed deeply looking at his mother bowing to that man. He was completely confused with what was happening in front of him now. He could see the man was looking at his mother with a frown and his smile had gone.
“Yukiko… I…” The man paused for a few seconds before continuing his sentence; he sounded a bit tired when he finally spoke again, “Please, Yukiko. Don’t make things more difficult for me.”
“I am not, Iemitsu-san. It is I who is supposed to be saying that. Please don’t make our lives more difficult with matters that aren’t of our concern.”
“I only want to warn your husband about…”
“Then I will take you to him, if it really is important.” Once again she cut the man’s sentence. “I don’t want to talk about this matter in front of my son.”
As soon as she said that, she turned away from that man and smiled to her son. “Let’s go home, Takeshi.”
Takeshi nodded but couldn’t hide his confusion. He didn’t understand anything about what his mother and the man were both talking about. He could feel his mother’s palm sweating when she took his hand again and resumed their walk back home, the strange man following suit. The five minutes walk was spent in silence and he couldn’t stop throwing a curious glance over his shoulder to the man following them. And every time he looked back, the Iemitsu man would smile at him and then his mother would tug his hand to walk faster.
When they finally reached the road leading to Takesushi, Takeshi could see his father standing in front of the restaurant, tapping his feet, his face was scrunched up, hands folded over his chest and his right hand tapping his upper left arm. It looked like his parents closed the restaurant earlier than usual to look for him.
“Oyaji!” Takeshi let go of his mother’s hand and ran towards his father’s direction. He tackled his father into a hug and chuckled when his father let out a small ‘Oof!’.
“Now, there you are, young man!” His father ruffled his hair and sighed in relief. “Where have you been?”
“I was watching a baseball match, Oyaji! It was superb!” Takeshi explained animatedly, his arms flailing all over. “Ne, ne, Oyaji! Can I play baseball too?” He looked up to his father with wide gleaming eyes. His father couldn’t help but grin and ruffle his head again.
“Of course, Takeshi! Now, where’s your mother?”
At the mention of his mother, Takeshi turned his head back to where he left his mother. Sheo was walking toward them with her warm smile. “There!” He pointed to her direction. “And someone is looking for you, Oyaji.”
His father’s grin faded the moment he saw the man walking behind her. He stood still, his hands on Takeshi’s shoulders and didn’t take his eyes off the man until his mother reached them. “He wants to talk to you, dear,” she said to his father.
Takeshi could feel the atmosphere around him change drastically.
“Take him upstairs, Yukiko,” his father pushed him towards his mother lightly. “Let’s talk inside, Iemitsu.”
His mother motioned him to go inside the restaurant and took him upstairs to the second floor of the restaurant where his room was. Takeshi eyed his father and the strange man curiously before ascending the stairs.
“Don’t pay attention to him, Takeshi.” His mother said suddenly when they reach the top of stairs. She opened the door to his room and then turned around to face him. She was smiling her usual smile again, but Takeshi could still feel her restlessness and he was worried.
“Now, you said something about wanting to play baseball?”
Takeshi’s face brightened as soon as the topic was changed into baseball and he dismissed any other confusing matters aside from his mind.
--
The fact that his parents’ behavior changed drastically around him after that day was missed completely by Takeshi because he had been too preoccupied with his new hobby-passion if one would notice his eagerness-baseball. He didn’t really notice that his parents were spending more time talking in hushed voices, their expression were that of nervousness. Sometimes he would catch them talking about something that completely out of his understanding; something about sword technique, ‘Bongore’ or something like that, and a lot of other confusing things.
It was only when he noticed his mother had rarely given him her warm smile anymore that he thought something was wrong. When he asked his mother what happened to her, she smiled to him-not her usual megawatt smile, it’s a somber and sad one-and said nothing was wrong and he should practice his baseball harder. Takeshi nodded happily and told his mother he was going to be a professional baseball player and make her proud.
There was only one thing that was in his head nowadays, baseball. The young boy would practice everyday after school hours. Even though he was still young and Namimori Elementary School’s baseball team didn’t have any spot for an eight year old like him, Takeshi had shown everyone that he was serious about learning baseball. He had memorized all of the basic rules of baseball only two days after he was able to convince the coach joined the team, even only as a substitute player. He still helped his parents in their sushi restaurant even though every time he tried to, his mother or father would just shove him upstairs and tell him to get some rest instead.
Life was going well and everything seemed normal and peaceful. But little did young Takeshi know that this was just temporary.
A week or so after his first time watching baseball match, Takeshi swung his bat as he walked slowly back home from his daily practice. It was almost six in the afternoon already and the sky’s color was gradually changed to dark orange and then to dark grey. He could see some dark clouds gathering and there was a low rumble of thunder coming from far away. It was going to rain soon and he quickened his walk.
When he turned around the corner of the road leading to his house, he was confused when he saw a lot of people gathered around it.
“I heard it was a burglar-”
“-But they used a sword!”
“There’s blood all over the place!”
“She was a fine woman… Poor Takeshi…”
“Were there any witness?”
Takeshi knitted his brows as he heard the low murmurs. “What are they talking about?” he muttered warily. When the people noticed him, they all had a saddened expression and pity on their face.
“Takeshi-kun…” A man Takeshi noticed as a regular in their restaurant stopped him when he wanted to open the door to the restaurant, “I think you shouldn’t go in just yet.”
“Why? What happened?” He looked around him and saw the people shift uncomfortably and try to avoid his eyes. And then the door was opened; his father stepped out and Takeshi’s eyes went wide. His father’s front was covered in splatters of blood. There was too much blood for it to come from cutting fish, Takeshi thought.
“Oyaji… What happened to you?!”
His father’s eyes met with his. The grim look on his face and the way he clenched his jaw scared Takeshi. Something was undoubtedly wrong here and he was so afraid of knowing what it was.
“Oyaji…” Takeshi reached out to his father’s arm. His father clasped his hands-there was blood-and pulled him closer. He could see the tears slowly falling from his father’s eyes.
The words coming out of his father’s mouth were, “Your mother… died.”
A drizzle of water fell to Takeshi’s cheek and rain started to fall from the heavens.
--
Everything seemed to just go in a blur after that. Takeshi couldn’t really recall what happened after he stormed inside the restaurant and he saw the red, his mother’s lifeless body (she was slumped on the floor, her sky blue kimono was tainted in red), and his father’s tears. His memory was too hazy but he remembered a couple of things. He could remember he was crying in his father’s embrace after that. He remembered that bit about almost half of the neighborhood coming to see what had happened. He thought someone was taking care of him when his father prepared the funeral for his mother. He assumed everything was just a nightmare every time he woke up abruptly in the middle of the night, only to realize that it was not when he noticed he was not sleeping in his own room. He cried himself to sleep again after that.
It was only when he sat beside his father, dressed in black suit, bowing and saying ‘Thank you’ every now and then to the people came to pay their last respect to his mother that he finally caught on with reality; his mother was dead. And he would cry again, again and again. He didn’t stop crying even when his father pulled him to his side and pat his head.
“There, there, Takeshi. It’ll be alright. Everything will be alright,” his father said soothingly to him, “Your mother wouldn’t be happy if she sees you like this, my boy.”
His cries were muffled when he tightened his hold on his father’s waist. He just couldn’t stop the tears and his chest was hurting as his father told him that.
“Takeshi… Pl…” His father didn’t finish his sentence and he could feel his body was tensing. “What are you doing here? I thought you’re back in Italy already.”
“Paying my respect to Yukiko, Tsuyoshi. I’m really, really sorry for your loss. If only I’ve warned you more in details, this would never happen.”
Takeshi perked up when he heard the voice. He let go of his father and turned around to see the strange man he met some ten days ago whose name he didn’t really remember.
“…You shouldn’t blame yourself. Everything has happened and it’s of no use for us to regret over things that have passed,” his father said with a monotonous tone.
The man was sighing deeply and then his eyes met Takeshi’s. His frown deepened when he saw the tears flowing endlessly from the boy’s eyes. He patted Takeshi’s head and smiled reassuringly to him.
“Cry, young one, cry to your heart content. But after that you should smile again, okay? You have the same bright smile as your mother. She would never want that smile to disappear from your face and would never want to see you sad every time, wouldn’t she?”
Takeshi blinked and wiped the tears with his sleeve. “But Okaa-san is not here anymore… I miss her…” he said in between his sniffles.
“You can’t see her anymore but she’s still going to look after you, you know. And you shouldn’t make your father more worried that this, right?”
He looked up to his father for a moment and then back to facing the spiky haired man. He nodded and tried so hard to stop his tears. Takeshi smiled weakly when the man ruffled his hair. His smile wasn’t a bright one, but it was still a smile. And that was all Takeshi needed to bring the smile back on his father’s face.
He just wished he could see his mother’s smile again too…
0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0
Yamamoto smiled weakly at the memory.
Seeing anything that was related to death-in this case, Reborn’s grave-always reminded the Rain Guardian of the day he started to put on that smiley mask on his face. He didn’t really remember why he had to put on that fake smile. He could only remember vaguely about someone telling him that he should stop crying and smile again, for his father’s sake.
Ever since that day, Yamamoto had always been able to give his best smile to everyone at any circumstances. It was started off as a fake smile, so his father wouldn’t worry. But then, he would sometimes hide in his room’s closet, away from his father’s eyes, to cry. There’s only so much an eight year old kid could do to hide his loss after all.
As years gone by, the more he wore that fake smile, the more he wondered if he would ever smile genuinely again. Sometimes he would wonder whether the smile he wore at the time was a real smile or just a fake. Whether he was lying or not when he would answer ‘I’m okay’ every time his father asked him how he was doing. He could not differentiate them anymore.
But well, he had always been the positive one; always think of the best in everything. So he came to one conclusion: every smile he gave was genuine. Period.
It took a couple of years from when he was eight until he was thirteen for Yamamoto to realize he was wrong all along.
0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0
To be continued to the next stage...
Endnote: Comment? Shall post the next one soon. Sharing the PC is not awesome. D:
Fandom:: Katekyo Hitman Reborn
Character(s):: Yamamoto Takeshi, with appearances by Yamamoto Tsuyoshi, Sawada Iemitsu, Sawada Tsunayoshi, Reborn, Gokudera Hayato, and some Ocs.
Rating:: PG13
Word Count:: 14.443 in total.
Warning:: language, minor violence and blood, character deaths, OCs, oh and UBER-LONG.
Disclaimer:: Apparently, though I share almost the same amount of insanity as Amano, I don’t own this series. OCs are mine though.
Summary:: This was a story of Yamamoto Takeshi. These were the reasons why he loved baseball, never stopped smiling, had endless and strong resolution, and branded as natural born killer. Reborn had always been right about him from the start.
Beta'd by:
chocobo_ed
Illustration art by:redmoonmurder
A/N: Written for khrminibang challenge 2009. This is also the fic that I've been wanting to write since one year ago and finally I can rest in peace, because I WROTE YAMAMOTO'S BACKSTORY, YAY! -cough- Here's part one for now. Shall post the remaining parts tomorrow.
In the bleak future that you’re in now, sometimes you look back and wonder what made you the way you are.
How could all of this be happening? Is this all but just a dream?
~Prologue~
There were three important stages in Yamamoto Takeshi’s life.
The first stage was when he was almost eight-the first time he saw the wonder of this sport called baseball.
The second stage was when he was almost fourteen-when he became a part of Tsuna’s very realistic Mafia role playing game and when he inherited the Shigure Souen Ryuu from his father.
The last stage was when he was nineteen years old; Yamamoto killed someone with his own hands.
0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0
Yamamoto looked down on Reborn’s final resting place, a small memorial stone that marked one of the greatest Arcobaleno. There really wasn’t anything being buried under the stone for there was nothing left of Reborn. The Tre-ni-Sette Radiation spread by the Millefiore had made sure that there would be nothing left, not even a strand of hair, of every Arcobaleno being exposed to the radiation. They all died a slow and painful death. How the Millefiore had the technology to achieve that was beyond Yamamoto’s comprehension.
The Rain Guardian knelt down and traced his fingers on the golden letters forged on the marbled stone. ‘Here lies the greatest hit-man of Vongola’ it said. He laughed softly and sadly as he read it. How ironic and mocking it was, really. There was nothing-nothing buried six feet deep, and yet the inscription… The words Tsuna wrote… Yamamoto could just imagine Reborn’s reaction.
The little guy would probably kicked Tsuna’s chin or smacked his head and said, “Humph! Is this the only thing that you could come up with, No-Good Tsuna?”
Yamamoto let out a small chuckle. For all these years of knowing him, he thought that Reborn must have wanted something grander than this, something extravagant. But of course, this simple memorial stone was the only thing the Vongola could give to the Arcobaleno at a dangerous time like this.
And, this was the only thing Tsuna could give to his former home-tutor. Yamamoto knew that it took all of Tsuna’s resolve to not cry, to keep his head high and act like the great Mafia Boss Reborn had always taught him to be when he ordered for those words to be forged on that small memorial stone.
Those words were just a lie. This so called grave was just a lie. It was a lie Tsuna forced himself to tell the others who didn’t know what exactly happened to Reborn, like to Kyoko or Haru or Tsuna’s mother.
A memorial stone was only-as its name implied-a memorial stone. The main purpose of it was so people like Bianchi, like Tsuna himself, like Dino and like Yamamoto himself would have some place to go if they wanted to grieve, or mourn, or just remembering the memories they have of the Arcobaleno.
It served also as the reminder to the Vongola and its other affiliated and allied families that the greatest hitman they had ever known in the Mafia world was gone, that the Millefiore would make sure he was not the last on their hit list and that the Vongola was not the strongest Mafia family in the underworld anymore.
Seven days had passed since the stone was built, since Yamamoto started his daily visit to Reborn’s grave. He would just go there at the earliest hour in the morning without telling anyone and stood, knelt or sat in front of the stone for an hour or two remembering the things Reborn had taught him over the past ten years in silence.
Yamamoto put his sword just beside his feet so it would not hinder his movement, fixing his eyes on the sword that lay before him. This sword was not Shigure Kintoki. It was just a normal sword he got from Tsuna not long after he decided to destroy the Vongola Rings for some unknown reasons. When Yamamoto realized the sword could not synchronize well with any of the Rain Rings he had, no matter how high the purity of the rings were, Tsuna arranged for him to get a new sword.
Seeing this sword reminded the Rain Guardian of the first weapon he ever had, courtesy of Reborn. It was a baseball bat that could turn into a sword (it could be a telescope too); Yamamoto’s bat, Reborn had called it. A sword disguised as a mere baseball bat, it was so meticulous of Reborn to give him something like that. He had made use of the knowledge that Yamamoto was a great baseball player.
“Baseball, huh…” Yamamoto mumbled slowly as he tore his eyes away from the sword. He lifted his right hand up from the sword hilt and looked at the calloused palm and fingers. His brows knitted and another sad smile was formed on his face.
The last time he had held a baseball bat was a couple of months ago, at the last match of the Major League. It was a hard decision to make. But he had to choose between living his childhood dream and fulfilling his responsibility as the Rain Guardian.
He chose the latter.
~The First Stage~
Yamamoto remembered vaguely the very first time he had seen baseball match and held a baseball bat.
He was eight years old, a common boy from a common family of three, living in a common neighborhood of Namimori and lived a really common life. His father, Yamamoto Tsuyoshi, was just a common sushi chef, but his ability to handle the knife was not a common one. His mother, Yamamoto Yukiko, was just a common housewife. They were just a normal family.
And just like a normal curious Japanese boy, young Yamamoto Takeshi fell in love at the first sight of baseball. He was mesmerized, entranced, mystified… No words could describe how elated he was the first time he saw that baseball player pitch the ball and when he heard the loud ‘clunk!’ as the steel bat collided with the ball.
It was Spring then…
--
The ball was thrown with such speed that he couldn’t see the ball pass the man holding a bat. A loud ‘strike!’ was coming from the man who stood behind the heavily protected man crouching a few distance away from the batter.
Another ball was pitched. This time, it was not the loud shout of ‘strike!’ but a loud ‘clunk!’ was heard. The grip of his small hands on the fence was tightened and his eyes grew wider and wider. His mouth went agape. If it was a manga, there would probably be sparkles floating around his face right now.
He had seen baseball matches a couple of times on television (baseball was the national sport of Japan after all) while helping his parents in their sushi restaurant. But this was different, this was the first time he had seen it being played in front of him; real people, real sound, real… baseball.
Young Takeshi couldn’t take his eyes off the people on the baseball field. He was completely, utterly mesmerized by the dynamics of those people running around in the baseball field. It was as if they were gliding through the air, dashing from one place to another, reaching out to the sky, and their expression when they reach their base or when they were able to stop the other team was just so contagious it made Takeshi smile widely together with them.
His grip on the fence was tightened once again when another ball was pitched and the next batter hit it with his steel bat. His heart skipped a beat when the ball collided with the bat and it went high and higher and higher to the clear afternoon sky; the batter had already dashed away leaving his bat. In just mere seconds, he could see dashes of whites and blacks.
The people gathered beside the baseball field shouted ‘Home run!!’ and Takeshi would never forget that triumphant smile on the batter’s face as he stepped his foot on the home base.
“Takeshi!”
As if someone thrown a bucket of water on his head, Takeshi was pulled back to reality when he heard someone calling-shouting, more likely-his name. He tore his attention away from the baseball pitch and looked for whomever was calling him.
His eyes caught a glimpse of familiar dark hair and silhouette trying to pass through the small crowd of people gathered around the fence separating the baseball field and the outer field. A woman clad in a simple kimono emerged and he recognized her. It was his mother. His mother quickened her steps when their eyes met.
“Okaa-san? What are you doing here?” Takeshi asked her mother when she finally stood, panting a little bit, in front of him. Few strands of dark hair were obstructing her eyes and she flicked it away. One of her delicate eyebrows shot up when she heard Takeshi’s question.
“You should ask yourself that question, young man!” She pulled Takeshi to an embrace after she said that.
Takeshi almost sighed in delight when his face was plastered to his mother’s obi. He put his arms around his mother’s waist and tightened the embrace. He always liked it when she embraced him. He could smell the faint smell of fish and rice mixed together with a soft sakura fragrance. His mother smelled like home.
His mother pulled him away and cupped his face with her hands; their identical eyes met and Takeshi blinked as he saw the sharp piercing gaze his mother gave him.
“I was watching baseball…”
He answered the unspoken question. Takeshi couldn’t help but take his eyes away from his mother’s gaze. Her expression was a mixture of relief, worry and anger. She was scowling, her brows knitted, her thin lips clenched tight and her eyes were darkened. Every time his mother wore that kind of expression, it felt like the air around him was sucked away.
Silence ensued between the mother and son. Her piercing eyes were still fixed on his face and Takeshi was still trying to avoid it. There was some commotion around the baseball field after the match was over, but Takeshi could not hear them because his mother’s hands covered his ears.
“I was worried, Takeshi,” she said softly, “You should have come back straight from school before going elsewhere.”
“I know. I’m sorry.” He pouted a bit and his fingers fidgeted with his bag’s straps. Takeshi’s eyes met his mother’s once again. The anger was gone completely and he felt the air was coming back again.
“Next time, come back home first, okay?” A small and warm smile crept up to her face as his mother pat Takeshi’s head and took his hand. She motioned him away from the baseball field. “Let’s go back before your father calls the police. He was so worried when I left him to look for you.”
Takeshi nodded and took a glance at the baseball field where the winning team cheered before reluctantly following his mother.
--
“Umm… Okaa-san?” Takeshi called out to his mother quietly as they walked hand in hand.
“Yes?” His mother halted her step and looked down to him. Her smile was bright and he couldn’t help but smile along. It made him felt more confident with what he wanted to ask her. He had been thinking about this ever since they left the baseball field.
“I want to play baseball! Can I?”
Before she could answer the request, a boisterous loud voice was coming from behind them, calling his mother’s name.
“Yukiko! Yukiko! Wait!”
Both of them looked back to the source of the voice, Takeshi couldn’t help but cock his head to the side as he couldn’t recognize the man who was walking fast towards them. When that man finally caught up to them, Takeshi eyed him curiously.
The man was so tall he was looming over Takeshi and he had to tilt his head up to see his face. The man has weird spiky light brown bordering to blonde hair and it looked like he hadn’t shaved for a couple of days too. He was wearing an overall jumper and was chewing on a toothpick in his mouth.
“Iemitsu-san?” His mother then gave the man a curt nod. It seemed like his mother knew the man, Takeshi thought. He could feel his mother tighten her grip on his hand as the man nodded back. “I thought you weren’t going to come back from whatever you’re doing for another half a year?” She asked the man; she was smiling but the flicker of annoyance in her tone was very apparent.
“Change of schedule, there’s something I need to tell Tsuyoshi,” he said in low tone as he turned his eyes to both sides of the road, looking out for any unwanted eavesdropper. “And I need to know something about Shigu…”
“Please, Iemitsu-san!” His mother cut the man’s sentence, her smile completely gone. “I’ve told you once before that our family doesn’t want to have anything to do with that anymore!” Her voice was not as gentle as usual, it was sharp and cold.
Takeshi looked at his mother warily and confused at her sudden burst of anger. It was really rare for his mother to lose her composure like this. He had never seen her sounded so afraid and angry at the same time.
The grim look that man named Iemitsu gave to his mother made her unconsciously pulled Takeshi closer to her side. And that was when he looked down to the young boy. Takeshi blinked several times at him and cocked his head a little.
“Is this Takeshi?” The man asked as he crouched down so their eyes were on the same level. He reached out to Takeshi and patted his head. “You’re a big boy now, aren’t you? You look a lot like your father.”
Before Takeshi could open his mouth to respond, his mother had pulled him behind her, out of Iemitsu’s reach. She put her right hand over his shoulders protectively.
“Leave my son out of this,” he heard his mother hissed to the man from behind her back, “You might have failed as a parent and husband for leaving your son and wife alone in this town every now and then without telling them anything. But you should never think that I or Tsuyoshi will involve our son in this matter. And I tell you this once again, Iemitsu-san: We don’t want to be involved in…” she looked at Takeshi from the corner of her eyes, “…I don’t want to be involved in whatever it is you’re doing anymore.”
She let out a short sigh before she took her hand away from Takeshi’s shoulder and clasped both of her hands to her lap and bowed to the strange man. “Please let my family live a normal life…”
Takeshi’s forehead furrowed deeply looking at his mother bowing to that man. He was completely confused with what was happening in front of him now. He could see the man was looking at his mother with a frown and his smile had gone.
“Yukiko… I…” The man paused for a few seconds before continuing his sentence; he sounded a bit tired when he finally spoke again, “Please, Yukiko. Don’t make things more difficult for me.”
“I am not, Iemitsu-san. It is I who is supposed to be saying that. Please don’t make our lives more difficult with matters that aren’t of our concern.”
“I only want to warn your husband about…”
“Then I will take you to him, if it really is important.” Once again she cut the man’s sentence. “I don’t want to talk about this matter in front of my son.”
As soon as she said that, she turned away from that man and smiled to her son. “Let’s go home, Takeshi.”
Takeshi nodded but couldn’t hide his confusion. He didn’t understand anything about what his mother and the man were both talking about. He could feel his mother’s palm sweating when she took his hand again and resumed their walk back home, the strange man following suit. The five minutes walk was spent in silence and he couldn’t stop throwing a curious glance over his shoulder to the man following them. And every time he looked back, the Iemitsu man would smile at him and then his mother would tug his hand to walk faster.
When they finally reached the road leading to Takesushi, Takeshi could see his father standing in front of the restaurant, tapping his feet, his face was scrunched up, hands folded over his chest and his right hand tapping his upper left arm. It looked like his parents closed the restaurant earlier than usual to look for him.
“Oyaji!” Takeshi let go of his mother’s hand and ran towards his father’s direction. He tackled his father into a hug and chuckled when his father let out a small ‘Oof!’.
“Now, there you are, young man!” His father ruffled his hair and sighed in relief. “Where have you been?”
“I was watching a baseball match, Oyaji! It was superb!” Takeshi explained animatedly, his arms flailing all over. “Ne, ne, Oyaji! Can I play baseball too?” He looked up to his father with wide gleaming eyes. His father couldn’t help but grin and ruffle his head again.
“Of course, Takeshi! Now, where’s your mother?”
At the mention of his mother, Takeshi turned his head back to where he left his mother. Sheo was walking toward them with her warm smile. “There!” He pointed to her direction. “And someone is looking for you, Oyaji.”
His father’s grin faded the moment he saw the man walking behind her. He stood still, his hands on Takeshi’s shoulders and didn’t take his eyes off the man until his mother reached them. “He wants to talk to you, dear,” she said to his father.
Takeshi could feel the atmosphere around him change drastically.
“Take him upstairs, Yukiko,” his father pushed him towards his mother lightly. “Let’s talk inside, Iemitsu.”
His mother motioned him to go inside the restaurant and took him upstairs to the second floor of the restaurant where his room was. Takeshi eyed his father and the strange man curiously before ascending the stairs.
“Don’t pay attention to him, Takeshi.” His mother said suddenly when they reach the top of stairs. She opened the door to his room and then turned around to face him. She was smiling her usual smile again, but Takeshi could still feel her restlessness and he was worried.
“Now, you said something about wanting to play baseball?”
Takeshi’s face brightened as soon as the topic was changed into baseball and he dismissed any other confusing matters aside from his mind.
--
The fact that his parents’ behavior changed drastically around him after that day was missed completely by Takeshi because he had been too preoccupied with his new hobby-passion if one would notice his eagerness-baseball. He didn’t really notice that his parents were spending more time talking in hushed voices, their expression were that of nervousness. Sometimes he would catch them talking about something that completely out of his understanding; something about sword technique, ‘Bongore’ or something like that, and a lot of other confusing things.
It was only when he noticed his mother had rarely given him her warm smile anymore that he thought something was wrong. When he asked his mother what happened to her, she smiled to him-not her usual megawatt smile, it’s a somber and sad one-and said nothing was wrong and he should practice his baseball harder. Takeshi nodded happily and told his mother he was going to be a professional baseball player and make her proud.
There was only one thing that was in his head nowadays, baseball. The young boy would practice everyday after school hours. Even though he was still young and Namimori Elementary School’s baseball team didn’t have any spot for an eight year old like him, Takeshi had shown everyone that he was serious about learning baseball. He had memorized all of the basic rules of baseball only two days after he was able to convince the coach joined the team, even only as a substitute player. He still helped his parents in their sushi restaurant even though every time he tried to, his mother or father would just shove him upstairs and tell him to get some rest instead.
Life was going well and everything seemed normal and peaceful. But little did young Takeshi know that this was just temporary.
A week or so after his first time watching baseball match, Takeshi swung his bat as he walked slowly back home from his daily practice. It was almost six in the afternoon already and the sky’s color was gradually changed to dark orange and then to dark grey. He could see some dark clouds gathering and there was a low rumble of thunder coming from far away. It was going to rain soon and he quickened his walk.
When he turned around the corner of the road leading to his house, he was confused when he saw a lot of people gathered around it.
“I heard it was a burglar-”
“-But they used a sword!”
“There’s blood all over the place!”
“She was a fine woman… Poor Takeshi…”
“Were there any witness?”
Takeshi knitted his brows as he heard the low murmurs. “What are they talking about?” he muttered warily. When the people noticed him, they all had a saddened expression and pity on their face.
“Takeshi-kun…” A man Takeshi noticed as a regular in their restaurant stopped him when he wanted to open the door to the restaurant, “I think you shouldn’t go in just yet.”
“Why? What happened?” He looked around him and saw the people shift uncomfortably and try to avoid his eyes. And then the door was opened; his father stepped out and Takeshi’s eyes went wide. His father’s front was covered in splatters of blood. There was too much blood for it to come from cutting fish, Takeshi thought.
“Oyaji… What happened to you?!”
His father’s eyes met with his. The grim look on his face and the way he clenched his jaw scared Takeshi. Something was undoubtedly wrong here and he was so afraid of knowing what it was.
“Oyaji…” Takeshi reached out to his father’s arm. His father clasped his hands-there was blood-and pulled him closer. He could see the tears slowly falling from his father’s eyes.
The words coming out of his father’s mouth were, “Your mother… died.”
A drizzle of water fell to Takeshi’s cheek and rain started to fall from the heavens.
--
Everything seemed to just go in a blur after that. Takeshi couldn’t really recall what happened after he stormed inside the restaurant and he saw the red, his mother’s lifeless body (she was slumped on the floor, her sky blue kimono was tainted in red), and his father’s tears. His memory was too hazy but he remembered a couple of things. He could remember he was crying in his father’s embrace after that. He remembered that bit about almost half of the neighborhood coming to see what had happened. He thought someone was taking care of him when his father prepared the funeral for his mother. He assumed everything was just a nightmare every time he woke up abruptly in the middle of the night, only to realize that it was not when he noticed he was not sleeping in his own room. He cried himself to sleep again after that.
It was only when he sat beside his father, dressed in black suit, bowing and saying ‘Thank you’ every now and then to the people came to pay their last respect to his mother that he finally caught on with reality; his mother was dead. And he would cry again, again and again. He didn’t stop crying even when his father pulled him to his side and pat his head.
“There, there, Takeshi. It’ll be alright. Everything will be alright,” his father said soothingly to him, “Your mother wouldn’t be happy if she sees you like this, my boy.”
His cries were muffled when he tightened his hold on his father’s waist. He just couldn’t stop the tears and his chest was hurting as his father told him that.
“Takeshi… Pl…” His father didn’t finish his sentence and he could feel his body was tensing. “What are you doing here? I thought you’re back in Italy already.”
“Paying my respect to Yukiko, Tsuyoshi. I’m really, really sorry for your loss. If only I’ve warned you more in details, this would never happen.”
Takeshi perked up when he heard the voice. He let go of his father and turned around to see the strange man he met some ten days ago whose name he didn’t really remember.
“…You shouldn’t blame yourself. Everything has happened and it’s of no use for us to regret over things that have passed,” his father said with a monotonous tone.
The man was sighing deeply and then his eyes met Takeshi’s. His frown deepened when he saw the tears flowing endlessly from the boy’s eyes. He patted Takeshi’s head and smiled reassuringly to him.
“Cry, young one, cry to your heart content. But after that you should smile again, okay? You have the same bright smile as your mother. She would never want that smile to disappear from your face and would never want to see you sad every time, wouldn’t she?”
Takeshi blinked and wiped the tears with his sleeve. “But Okaa-san is not here anymore… I miss her…” he said in between his sniffles.
“You can’t see her anymore but she’s still going to look after you, you know. And you shouldn’t make your father more worried that this, right?”
He looked up to his father for a moment and then back to facing the spiky haired man. He nodded and tried so hard to stop his tears. Takeshi smiled weakly when the man ruffled his hair. His smile wasn’t a bright one, but it was still a smile. And that was all Takeshi needed to bring the smile back on his father’s face.
He just wished he could see his mother’s smile again too…
0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0
Yamamoto smiled weakly at the memory.
Seeing anything that was related to death-in this case, Reborn’s grave-always reminded the Rain Guardian of the day he started to put on that smiley mask on his face. He didn’t really remember why he had to put on that fake smile. He could only remember vaguely about someone telling him that he should stop crying and smile again, for his father’s sake.
Ever since that day, Yamamoto had always been able to give his best smile to everyone at any circumstances. It was started off as a fake smile, so his father wouldn’t worry. But then, he would sometimes hide in his room’s closet, away from his father’s eyes, to cry. There’s only so much an eight year old kid could do to hide his loss after all.
As years gone by, the more he wore that fake smile, the more he wondered if he would ever smile genuinely again. Sometimes he would wonder whether the smile he wore at the time was a real smile or just a fake. Whether he was lying or not when he would answer ‘I’m okay’ every time his father asked him how he was doing. He could not differentiate them anymore.
But well, he had always been the positive one; always think of the best in everything. So he came to one conclusion: every smile he gave was genuine. Period.
It took a couple of years from when he was eight until he was thirteen for Yamamoto to realize he was wrong all along.
0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0
To be continued to the next stage...
Endnote: Comment? Shall post the next one soon. Sharing the PC is not awesome. D: