Katekyo Hitman Reborn

Main Character: Tsunayoshi Sawada

Warning: Suicidal thoughts

Getting up until I no longer can

Sometimes it's hard, almost impossible to continue. To get up was a chore, to smile was to hide, everything was gray and dark. But he continued to walk, to breath, to move, simply because he was petty and he didn't want the world to know it's close to winning.


He stared at the wall, his mind was filled with white static. It was three in the morning, he still had to go to school tomorrow-later. It was after midnight, a new day was already starting. Rolling on his back, he held out his hand. It had a pale, almost sickly glow to it. The boney and thinness of it, only made it look worse. He brought to his face and slowly dragged it down.

His breath was shallow and even, it was peaceful. His mind wasn't filled with jumbled and chaotic thoughts for once. But it was...too silent, some small part of him was worried. He couldn't bring himself to care as he sat up. Suddenly he was out of the door, down the stairs. Until he was in the kitchen with a drawer open and a knife in his hand.

His finger on the tip, the steel was beautiful in the light of the moon, his mind whispered. Yes, it was, he held it up. His pale arm showed as it glowed in the moonlight, imagine how it would look like with red. Unknowingly, his hand moved the blade to his other arm. Slowly it pushed and push- "T-Tsu-kun? What are you doing?"

His mother was standing in the door, shaky and pale as she stared at the knife and his arm. He blinked as his mind blank, words flew out of his mouth before his mind could catch up. "I was going to cut up an apple, I woke up hungry, mama."

She smiled back, relief and something else shone in her brown eyes. "Don't worry, Tsu-kun. I will do do it for you." She walked towards him and took the knife a little too forceful and fast.

He smiled, "thank you mama!" He walked to the refrigerator and took out a shiny red apple. Setting it down on the counter, he turned back to the fridge. "Do you want something to drink, mama?"

"No, I am okay." He smiled at her as he closed the door.

-x-

He stared at the sidewalk, his mind was back to normal. He snorted quietly as he kicked a pebble. His head hung low as he heard the familiar chattering from some of his classmates. "Hey look, if it isn't Dame-Tsuna!"

A heavy arm was thrown over his shoulders and the grinning face caused dread to hold his heart as fear and hopeless to follow as four others joined it. "Eh, what's with that look? Scared of us, loser?" He felt pain as his hand stopped his fall. "Hmph, I didn't even push you that hard!"

He got up as they laughed at him, his hand stung from the small scrap. He was going to have to wash it, it could get infected, he brushed off small rocks. He held onto his bag's straps as he was pushed around. He took the abuse silently as they laughed, knowing he was likely going to have some new bruises.

They stopped as they got closer to the school. He let himself leg behind as he tried to make sure he would be one of the later students to school.

Walking through the gates, he felt small and in danger as a couple of students surrounded him. His breath hatched as more gathered, unknowingly making him panic. He gripped his sleeve as he moved off to the side slowly, the other students were brushing past him.

-x-

His hand was fidgeting with his pencil as he watched it. He jumped when he heard a loud slam. Looking, he saw his teacher grinning. "Now that you are paying attention," the class erupted in giggles as he flushed. "Answer the question on the board."

He looked at it, the number moved and grew until his head was throbbing and hands were sweaty. "I-I don't know, sir." He stuttered, his left hand gripped his pant legs as the class once again erupted into giggles.

The teacher seemed to grin bigger as the shadows and he grew. "Well, next Sawada, pay attention to the lesson." He said as he moved on. Tsunayoshi bent his head down, listening to the giggles and whispers of his classmates.

-x-

He laid in his bed, rinse and repeat. His hand covering his face, until he can no longer do it. There are no options, he was after all dragging on a losing battle.