Fifteen of October

Hope is Fleeting

A note was left on the fridge that morning. Nothing special, only a neat scribble written in ink. His mother left. She took the kids with her to visit her parents, the note said.

Tsuna paid no mind. He was used to the getaways his mother would take. Mind that Tsuna remembers little of the last words spoken between his mother and himself.

Never had his house been so quiet. He was used to the silence before, but now it's him alone wandering past empty rooms. With Reborn summoned to Italy on short notice, Tsuna ventured into his day quietly. It's all he can do.

Tsuna was used to this feeling. It was fine. His mother would be happier surrounded by the ones she loved. Tsuna knows this, but Nana doesn't yet. Whereas she may shower affection upon everyone she meets, her subconscious seems to withhold that love for her son. He didn't say a word of it. It's the least he could do. No longer was Tsuna blinded in thinking maternal love would find Nana. After all, nowhere on that yellow piece of paper that said happy birthday.

He walked to school alone. It's been like that for a while. Gokudera and Yamamoto have business to attend to and apologized for leaving the boy alone. Tsuna smiled that day. He told them, "Don't worry about me. You guys don't have to be with me every second of the day."

They don't have to, but Tsuna wishes they were.

Tsuna continued to be the primary target for both the students and faculty. For a brief moment, he forgot what that was like. The insults were shielded by the blind contentment he once held. With the spectators realizing the boy ventures with no one by his side, the acts of ridicule naturally fell into habit. Sometimes, he would turn to look for his guardians--his friends. To his avail, they never looked back.

He wondered when they would join him again. While Tsuna admits to be a coward, he felt no need not to offer his hand.

"Hey, Gokudera-kun, would you like to eat lunch together?" Tsuna asked, providing a soft smile. His fingers fidgeted nervously behind his back. Say yes. Please, say yes.

The corner of Hayato's lips twitched, something Tsuna was all too familiar with. It's a bad habit he's accumulated, practically asking for his face to be read, telling everyone to be gone from the Storm's sight. Tsuna never said a word of it.

"Sorry, Jyudaime. I have something to do. Next time, hm?" Stuffing his hands into his pockets, Hayato's feet fell from the desk. He left sharply, never taking a glance back. Takeshi was by the door waiting for him. He smiled at Tsuna. That smile--the very one that Takeshi gave everyone before attempting to jump. It's fake. All of it. 

His Intuition rang heavily. Lies, it whispers. They're lying. He knows they are, but he refuses to acknowledge it. If he believes they're lying, he has to face the truth. They haven't left him. No. He can't be alone. It's too cruel. So he pushed those warnings down deep.

Tsuna wasn't dumb. At least, not as dumb as the others have grown to see him. He knows his guardians. He knows his classmates. He's endured enough to see the same eyes on different people. He knows Hayato well enough to know he's grown tired of him.

Where rain washed the sky's worries away, his Rain sheds isolation on his Sky. Often at times, Tsuna would turn to find Takeshi in the back of the class. At first, Takeshi smiled uncomfortably. Yet, as the days shifted, Takeshi came to avoid Tsuna firmly, never looking in his direction. When their eyes met accidentally, his head snapped down to his desk, as if he's reaffirming himself he looked at a misfortune.

What can he do? He can't make them interested in him. Tsuna qualities are an open book. He is a simple, simple person. The type that people will be bored of easily, if not the finger will accuse him of being less than genuine. He can't have that. Nor can he uphold a mask he doesn't believe in.