Mafia Honesty

Bouquet of Chrysanthemums part 1

A/N: So...I was triggered about something and decided this is where I'll put all frustrations of the month. I have no regrets. Maybe I'll rearrange or put another chapter after this. Maybe I won't. Let's hope for the best.

(ㆁωㆁ) (ㆁωㆁ) (ㆁωㆁ)

Age: 19 years old.

The taste of blood is familiar on his tongue. Its scent, as hated as rust and corroding metal. So much like poison that burns his throat and makes his heart beat faster than ever before as his lungs begin constrict, making it harder to breath.

The silence is so strong in Verde's abandoned laboratory, so conveniently soundproof and flameproof too. So aside from the constant hacking, coughing, crying, and heaving sounds in the dark room (he may have busted the lights after a few breakdowns), there was nothing else to make any sound.

No sounds of comfort.

"I can't..."

No threats of disembowelment for hiding something the others should have the right to know.

"I shouldn't..."

No flame was present to warm him as he shivered, huddling near the gap made by the small bed and a wall.

"They've done enough," Tsuna choked on his tears as he tried to stop the onslaught of painful coughs that felt as if his lungs would be the next to come out of his mouth.

(Distantly, he berates himself that this would be more humiliating if Reborn ever stumbles onto him, but that must have been his paranoid self talking. Shivering, not from the cold but from a foreboding feeling that he might jinx himself, Tsuna immediately dropped the thought and went back to his brooding.)

Taking his hand from his mouth which he used to cover the sound of his relentless cough, he felt something drip down.

Thick, warm, and...

"Blood," he whispered to himself, already knowing what the liquid on his palm is despite the pitch black room. "Of course. Why did I even hope for it to be anything else."

Biting his already bruised lip, Tsuna leaned his head on the wall. The coldness of concrete in contact with his skin making him feel as if he'll be a block of cold nothingness if this continues.

A bitter laugh escaped him. It's so similar to those days back when he had to hide in the toilets of Namimori to pretend he's alright.

To pretend that he's fine.

To act as if his days aren't numbered.

To feel as if he isn't dying.

"Why? Just why is it always me?" Tsuna asked himself as his tears flowed once more.

Then, as if a dam finally had enough and began to slowly crack as realizations of what ifs and what could be's flashed through his mind, Tsuna began to wail like a child.

A child that's lonely, afraid, in pain, and resentful because why? Why did the world have to choose him? Why is it always him who has to feel the most pain? Why did he have to lose everything that he thought would only remain as a dream?

Why now indeed.

"I don't want it," he whispered. "I... I don't want to die!" He cried out. "Not now! Not after I finally met them! Why are you so cruel to me!?"

Why now?

Why now when he finally has friends?

Why now when his Mama is finally happy?

Why now when he has a lot of people who would get hurt if he dies?

Why didn't he die when he waa all alone and neglected?! It would have been much better to pass away in such a manner.

Nobody to know. Nobody to grieve. Nobody to get hurt as much as him.

Maybe his Mama will cry for a few days, he knows it'll break her heart, but then maybe that would have also made his idiotic father come home faster to comfort her. They would heal together. Maybe even try to make another child. Maybe...

Maybe it would've been better if he died back then.

As if alarmed of his brewing thoughts, Sky flames slowly began to illuminate the room in its soft glow, so different from the flames he used to fight and to kill (and he did kill. He took a life and he won't deny it because parallel Byakuran is still a person even if he has his own issues to deal with). Tendrils of orange swirled around as if to appease the distressed teen. As if it was trying to convey that... trying to convey what exactly? He didn't know.

Maybe, maybe even his flames didn't know what to do either other than to place itself around the shivering teen.

It's alright. It seemed to say. Everything will be alright.

"I don't want to die yet," the brunet whispered to himself, more subdued; numb.

And Tsuna, seeing how his flames would dance around as it flickered, as if putting on a light show, tried to place a wobbling smile on his face.

"...I'm fine," he smiled. So please, they don't need to know, was left unsaid, shared only between flame and person.

Alright. There were no words, but the strum of heat that coursed through his heart made it feel that way.

So even if Tsuna felt the tug of his own flames weakly telling him that the decision is wrong, selfish even, it didn't coax him to do more. Not like before when it had to push him with its constant whispers to try to function normally. This time, it left him to his own decision.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

Is probably the worst lie he's ever said to himself all this time.

"What the actual fck Tsuna!?" Of course, Reborn had to come in now when he's about to wipe away the small dribble of blood coming down his chin, his shirt stained in splotches of red from using it to wipe away the blood he coughed earlier on his palm.

Caught red-handed of something nobody should have known, damn intuition should have alerted him (it did but he didn't want to remember the jinxing moment), Tsuna smiled and waved as if he isn't covered in his own blood.

"I can explain?"

Meanwhile, the trembling, enraged, and worried hitman was about to open his mouth to go berate him, but (un)luckily he staggered on his feet before tilting forward with no control over his tired body, fully expecting to meet the floor, after exhaustion finally settled deep in his bones.

Contrary to his expectation, Tsuna didn't went splat on the floor. Instead, he felt someone catch him. And by the scent of espresso, it must have been Reborn... or dear heaven forbid, Xanxus on a liquor ban.

Tsuna wasn't able to make a final decision as he finally went slack in the hitman's tightening hold. Unaware of the chaos he's about to descend the entire Vongola in.

(ㆁωㆁ) (ㆁωㆁ) (ㆁωㆁ)

"Fuck!" Swiftly shifting the fainted teen in his arms, Reborn ran a quick check on Tsuna.

The hitman would affirm that he was no medic to immediately pinpoint the extent of the damage, but he is a Sun and he is not happy with what he found.

"You stupid Sky," Reborn huffed even though he was shaking, almost a blur to normal people as he rushed the deathly pale brunet to the clinical wing of the mansion. "Such a fcking stupid Sky."