[Katekyo Hitman Reborn!] Ambush
Title: Ambush
Author: bearit
Rating: PG for canon-based violence
Genre: General, Action
Characters: Yamamoto Tsuyoshi
Word Count: 796
Summary: It is his final moment of glory.
Notes: This was written for khrfest Round V: IV-40. TYL Tsuyoshi - fight; they came for him with no warning.
Disclaimer: Katekyo Hitman Reborn! belongs to Akira Amano. I have no rights to the series. This piece of fanwork is unofficial and not making a profit.
Those who would kill a man in his sleep under his own roof have no honor.
That is what Yamamoto Tsuyoshi says when the black clad men storm into his bedroom with wild, colorful flames ablaze from their weapons. He draws the sword he keeps by his bedside in time to block the first blow to come his way with an ease only adrenaline and years of concentrated training can provide.
From the way the men sneers and scoffs at his declaration, Tsuyoshi knows immediately what kind of ignoble foe he faces, and he knows exactly what they have come for: his life. Anything else is unimportant until he secures his victory.
They are on him all at once with weapons Tsuyoshi has faced before but with techniques and powers unfamiliar to him. It matters little; he has been in situations like this before, and his beating heart proves that he has always emerged victorious. Quickly he realizes that they are unskilled, each of their attacks sloppy and unfocused, and not soon after he realizes the source of their power: the auras of blue, red, green, and purple infusing their blades.
Unpolished techniques, however, are still unpolished. As he sidesteps and parries, as the dangerously comfortable feel of the Shigure Soen Ryu forms flow in each swing and block, he takes each of his attackers down one by one. He is thankful that he never let up on his training, that settling down and raising a son and running a sushi restaurant softened his abilities none. In fact, he suspects that those are the very things that not only keeps his swordsmanship alive but gives him the strength he needs to save his own life.
When no one is looking, he often brandishes his knives as katana and uses the fresh fish as targets. When his employees run errands and his son is out of the country, he takes out his swords and spars against the troublesome thin air or a piece of useless wood that will better serve as decoration than a splintering stool. Tsuyoshi is no stranger to the satisfied smirk after these bouts.
More importantly, the thought of Takeshi keeps his tired bones from giving into the electrocuting effect of the green flames that one of the men in black fires at him. Tsuyoshi does not worry for Takeshi's safety-the boy has long since surpassed him in skill, and he is much younger and far more capable to boot-nor does he worry about the boy living without him. Children are meant to survive their parents, after all, and Takeshi does well enough in the Major Leagues that money will not be a concern for him, and his family of friends in Sawada and Gokudera and the others will make sure he will not be alone.
No, what concerns Tsuyoshi the most is how Takeshi will handle his old man's defeat. He fears for his son's state of mind, his inevitable drive for revenge. The boy is much like his mother-he is meant to smile, to laugh. But where he is not like his mother, he is his father's son, and the bloodthirst... Tsuyoshi cannot condemn him to that. As much as he never wanted to die a coddled old man warm in his bed, or worse, tied to tubes and machines, ever since Takeshi arrived into the world with brown eyes big and eager, Tsuyoshi knows that that is how he is meant to go.
But these men are unending and relentless. As soon as he fells five, ten arrive to take their place, stronger than the ones now laying in a pool of their own blood. The green electricity continues to take a toll on his body. He is growing weaker, and everything he has built is slowly getting destroyed. He is to die in battle, after all. There is no death more fitting for a swordsman.
But it is not a death fitting for a father.
As yet even more men flood his bedroom, Tsuyoshi comes to realize that he cannot win. He is too tired, and they are too numerous. Now the questions that he will never have answered come to him: who are they? Why do they want him dead? Are they after Takeshi?
He knows all too well that they will never tell him their purpose. Their scowls show their impatience; they just want his last breath. Very well, then. He will not give them the satisfaction of begging for answers, of pleading for his son's safety. So he tightly grips his sword, takes in a deep breath, and prepares one last glorious attack for his honor. He can only hope that his son's friends are enough to pull Takeshi from the edge once more.
Author: bearit
Rating: PG for canon-based violence
Genre: General, Action
Characters: Yamamoto Tsuyoshi
Word Count: 796
Summary: It is his final moment of glory.
Notes: This was written for khrfest Round V: IV-40. TYL Tsuyoshi - fight; they came for him with no warning.
Disclaimer: Katekyo Hitman Reborn! belongs to Akira Amano. I have no rights to the series. This piece of fanwork is unofficial and not making a profit.
Those who would kill a man in his sleep under his own roof have no honor.
That is what Yamamoto Tsuyoshi says when the black clad men storm into his bedroom with wild, colorful flames ablaze from their weapons. He draws the sword he keeps by his bedside in time to block the first blow to come his way with an ease only adrenaline and years of concentrated training can provide.
From the way the men sneers and scoffs at his declaration, Tsuyoshi knows immediately what kind of ignoble foe he faces, and he knows exactly what they have come for: his life. Anything else is unimportant until he secures his victory.
They are on him all at once with weapons Tsuyoshi has faced before but with techniques and powers unfamiliar to him. It matters little; he has been in situations like this before, and his beating heart proves that he has always emerged victorious. Quickly he realizes that they are unskilled, each of their attacks sloppy and unfocused, and not soon after he realizes the source of their power: the auras of blue, red, green, and purple infusing their blades.
Unpolished techniques, however, are still unpolished. As he sidesteps and parries, as the dangerously comfortable feel of the Shigure Soen Ryu forms flow in each swing and block, he takes each of his attackers down one by one. He is thankful that he never let up on his training, that settling down and raising a son and running a sushi restaurant softened his abilities none. In fact, he suspects that those are the very things that not only keeps his swordsmanship alive but gives him the strength he needs to save his own life.
When no one is looking, he often brandishes his knives as katana and uses the fresh fish as targets. When his employees run errands and his son is out of the country, he takes out his swords and spars against the troublesome thin air or a piece of useless wood that will better serve as decoration than a splintering stool. Tsuyoshi is no stranger to the satisfied smirk after these bouts.
More importantly, the thought of Takeshi keeps his tired bones from giving into the electrocuting effect of the green flames that one of the men in black fires at him. Tsuyoshi does not worry for Takeshi's safety-the boy has long since surpassed him in skill, and he is much younger and far more capable to boot-nor does he worry about the boy living without him. Children are meant to survive their parents, after all, and Takeshi does well enough in the Major Leagues that money will not be a concern for him, and his family of friends in Sawada and Gokudera and the others will make sure he will not be alone.
No, what concerns Tsuyoshi the most is how Takeshi will handle his old man's defeat. He fears for his son's state of mind, his inevitable drive for revenge. The boy is much like his mother-he is meant to smile, to laugh. But where he is not like his mother, he is his father's son, and the bloodthirst... Tsuyoshi cannot condemn him to that. As much as he never wanted to die a coddled old man warm in his bed, or worse, tied to tubes and machines, ever since Takeshi arrived into the world with brown eyes big and eager, Tsuyoshi knows that that is how he is meant to go.
But these men are unending and relentless. As soon as he fells five, ten arrive to take their place, stronger than the ones now laying in a pool of their own blood. The green electricity continues to take a toll on his body. He is growing weaker, and everything he has built is slowly getting destroyed. He is to die in battle, after all. There is no death more fitting for a swordsman.
But it is not a death fitting for a father.
As yet even more men flood his bedroom, Tsuyoshi comes to realize that he cannot win. He is too tired, and they are too numerous. Now the questions that he will never have answered come to him: who are they? Why do they want him dead? Are they after Takeshi?
He knows all too well that they will never tell him their purpose. Their scowls show their impatience; they just want his last breath. Very well, then. He will not give them the satisfaction of begging for answers, of pleading for his son's safety. So he tightly grips his sword, takes in a deep breath, and prepares one last glorious attack for his honor. He can only hope that his son's friends are enough to pull Takeshi from the edge once more.