First Blood (KHR Fanfic)

1. Yamamoto Takeshi

1. Yamamoto Takeshi

To be the tranquil rain that washes away all disturbance within the family. To be like the passing, soothing shower that prevents conflict within the Family.

That is my role here, he reminded himself.

However, rain may grow heavy, and perhaps may even flood towns at times and cause morbid destruction.

That is something he should try not to become.

-----

He had taken this job because Tsuna asked him of it. It was a simple job of patrolling a particular area and getting rid of an unwanted disturbance loitering in the area.

'Getting rid of', in Tsuna's head, did not mean anything dark. It was a line spoken in pure trust and confidence in Takeshi's ability. At the time, Tsuna had trusted him to simply beat him up or chase them away with threats, just as how Takeshi and Hayato used to do to Tsuna's bullies.

And Takeshi believed that too. He naively believed that he could always stick to the same intimidation tactics, even after he fully accepted their involvement in actual bloody Mafia.

But when push came to shove and intimidation was simply returned with snarky confidence-- Weapons were drawn and flames were lit.

A deeper part of him suspected it. After all, this was bound to happen. And still, he was confident in his strength. He was confident in his father's sword style. He was confident he wouldn't lose.

But what he failed to realize-- was his lack of confidence in being able to chase this man away with just skill. He himself did not believe this man would just up and leave when told to.

The fight dragged on. Takeshi was definitely stronger than his opponent, but his aim here wasn't to finish him off. He fought to make the opponent give up.

And there, that happened. It began when his opponent suddenly drew out a gun. The opponent had been using a shortsword the whole time, so it really caught Takeshi off guard.

The gun was almost instantly fired-- but Takeshi knew how to deal with enemies that used guns. He'd trained under Reborn, after all. First, he ducked away, having read the bullet's course. Then, he reached for the man's wrist and twisted it in a way to make the enemy drop his gun.

But he had forgotten about the enemy's sword. It stabbed deep into his left thigh just as the enemy dropped his gun.

Hissing sharply in pain, Takeshi trusted his instincts and swerved his sword over to the enemy and-- The sword embedded itself hard and hit into bone. It had dug into his opponent's shoulder-- right at the collar and leading into the neck--

Panicked by that, Takeshi quickly tore his sword away-- but that was a stupid move. The enemy was now in a worse state, blood gushing out from the wound. The enemy had irritation in his eyes, cursing and cursing and cursing as he pressed his hand on the wound desperately.

Takeshi was frozen in mortification.

The man fell back towards the wall as he mumbled something in Italian, cursed, and finally, looked towards Takeshi with eyes-- eyes that screamed fear and anger and hatred and malice and- he swore.

"Fuck you, Yamamoto Takeshi!!"

"Fuck you!!"

Takeshi's mind went white. He blanked out.

He watched the man's face contort in pain-- watched the man curse him with the last of his breath-- and all the while, Takeshi stood frozen, unable to comprehend himself. Should he be doing something right now? He didn't even think of that.