A/N: Here, have something sad and full of horrifying angst!

:)

Choice

It was Dino-Niisan that actually made Tsuna realize a few things. They'd been sitting outside, looking up at the stars that were just beginning to show, content with one another as company as their Guardians all laughed and yelled and made generally as much Chaos as they could inside the house. And, Dino-Niisan was telling him about his Guardians, laughing a little, because Tsuna had asked about why he grew so clumsy whenever they weren't around.

"It's really nothing special, Otouto," the blond had chuckled. "It's just, when they're around, there's this warmth in my chest, and the world seems like it's all connected. These amazing, silly guys who picked me, out of everyone, to Harmonize with, and, yeah, I'm a Sky so I really did the Harmonizing, but, that feeling, of being chosen? Being picked by an Element who matches me? It's pretty fantastic, actually!" He'd laughed again, and Tsuna had smiled back, because, yeah, put like that, it was amazing.

But.

But it wasn't until the threat of the Varia was brought up, the training brought into play, that Tsuna lay awake at night while Reborn snored softly off to the side, and had what one might call an epiphany.

And...

And it broke something. Something in his (coldcoldcold) chest that had already been cracked and bruised and poorly put together. And, that night, before the first battle, Tsuna gathered those broken pieces together long enough to slip out of his room and into the backyard, to stare up at the moon and stars and empty sky and try to breathe through it, before he went back inside to set up a few things.

All the while those broken pieces grew sharper and more fragile than ever.

The next day, standing silently by as the Cervello announced the rules, Tsuna raised a hand and stepped forward.

"Before we start, can I say a few things?" He called quietly, a tight, nauseous feeling roiling in his gut that was ignored for now.

"You may," the closest Cervello announced; Tsuna inclined his head towards them, and then turned orange-tinged eyes on the Varia. He looked over them all, except the Mosca Cloud Guardian, and then he looked at Xanxus, how they surrounded him, stood near him, filled his space with their presence. Then he looked over his shoulder, at the determined and encouraging faces behind him, behind him and separated from one another, not close, never close, constantly bickering and pushing and edging that invisible line of too much no matter how hard he tried, and his shoulders slumped, orange eyes closing as he faced his enemies once more. He lifted his chin, opened his eyes, the orange dark and solemn and shimmering.

"You can have the Vongola," he told them bluntly; the Varia all blinked, startled, and, behind him, there was sputtering. "You can have it, every blood spattered inch of it. I want nothing to do with it."

"Dame-Tsuna," Reborn growled; Tsuna didn't even look at him, slashing a hand out to the side in a sharp motion.

"Reborn, shut up," he stated, voice cold and quiet and dull. There are several stunned, sucked in breaths.

"Juudaime?" Gokudera starts; Tsuna is silent, lifting his gaze to stare blankly up at the sky.

"Do you know what I realized the other day?" He asked rhetorically. "I realized that nothing has changed. I'm still weak, pathetic Dame-Tsuna, whose own mother giggles with the bullies and would rather have her deserter of a husband at home than her worthless, stupid son." His voice is calm, a statement of fact, and his orange eyes never looked away from the sky. It was a cloudless day, empty, empty blue expanding on forever, the sun a blinding spot that radiates a heat that burns. "I'm still pathetic, stupid little Dame-Tsuna, friendless and alone and being chased down the hallways by cruel idiots who think High-school is their biggest obstacle."

"You're not friendless, though!" Yamamoto pointed out, and, from the corner of his eye, Tsuna can see his bemused expression. "I mean, you have us!"

"Yeah, Juudaime!" Gokudera shouts. "We're your Guardians!" Tsuna chuckles a little, and finally looks away from the sky to let his eyes drift once more over everyone, turning so his back is facing the blank-faced Cervello, and spreads his arms wide with a cold, self-mocking smile.

"Oh, yes, such Guardians," he stated blankly, still smiling, orange eyes emptyemptyempty, like the sky above them. "Let's talk about that, hmm? Gokudera, my 'Storm', who was so desperate to join a Family he would literally accept anyone," the silver-haired boy flinched, and looked away. "Hopping to Reborn's whistle like a good puppy. Yamamoto, my 'Rain'," he continues blankly, and that bemused look is fading from the taller boys face, eyes dark and sharp. "The only reason you're here is because I stopped you from killing yourself, you're repaying a debt. Hell, you think this is all a game, and it doesn't matter how many times I talk to you, warn you, beg you to think things through, to be serious about something, you just laugh it away, because, despite everything that's happened, you still see Dame-Tsuna and I've never had a single ounce of your consideration, your respect. You're just here because of a debt that was brought up in this 'game' by Reborn," he finished; Yamamoto's face is blank, calm and still and intent as he listened.

"Hibari-san isn't even a Guardian," Tsuna continued coldly. "He's just a Cloud that Reborn promised a fight, and Ryohei is the same, a Sun who was told it would be an 'Extreme' fight if he came. Neither of them are my Guardians, either."

"Dame-Tsuna, that is enough," Reborn announces, Leon-Gun cocking loudly; Tsuna stared at him, orange eyes blank.

"Oh, no, Reborn, I'm just getting started," his voice hisses, a snarl at the end that startles everyone. "Let's continue, shall we? Little Lambo-kun who's only here because his Family didn't want him and you told them you'd take him off their hands. And Chrome? She's here for Mukuro, not me, just a chance to bring Mukuro out of Vindicare. Storm, Rain, Cloud, Sun, Lightning, and Mist, all of them here, but not for Me." Tsuna dragged his eyes up to the sky, and a blank, bitter smile curled his lips as he stared.

"Dino-Niisan came when you called, because you were his Tutor first, Reborn," he whispers lowly. "Shamal-san came to repay you a favor, too. The Varia came for the rings, for Vongola, not for me, they honestly couldn't give a single damn about some pathetic teen from no-name Namimori. Iemitsu came for Vongola as well, because he'll always put that first, put them before blood and marriage and children. And you, Reborn?" He looked down again slowly, eyes latching onto the black eyes of his silent Tutor.

"You came because you're being paid, to be here. You don't give a damn about me, either. I'm just one more challenge you're using to distract yourself from the fact that you've been Cursed. I'm a distraction, a toy, and, when your contract is done, you'll be gone until you feel like calling in the 'debt' I'll owe you. And, if you hadn't been contracted, you wouldn't even know who I was. Just another stupid, little Civilian, and a particularly pathetic one, at that." Tsuna spread his arms and gestured at the silent, staring people, smile wretched and bitter and as emptyemptyempty as his eyes.

"All these people, and not a single one of them is here for me. Not one of them is here because they chose me. No. My so-called Guardians? You Chose them for me, Reborn. Not one of them chose Me, but, guess what?" That horrible smile spread, and the orange eyes grew colder, darker, cracking at the seems.

"I didn't choose them, either," he hisses, bitterness and twisted relief and hollow, hollow grief in his voice. "I didn't get a choice. You picked them, and, for what? Their strong Flames? The way they look vaguely like the Primo's Guardians? Well, guess what? I. Am. Not. Primo!" He snarled. "Loud, angry Gokudera, so eager to prove himself but just as quick to ignore everyone else, quick tempered and desperate for approval he knows he doesn't get, I don't choose you!Cheerful, ignorant Yamamoto, who has never once attempted to stop my bullies, so quick to laugh it off and turn his back and hit the ball so they won't leave him all alone like poor Dame-Tsuna, I don't choose you!" There is a wavering Flame growing on Tsuna's head, his fists are clenched, his eyes closed as his voice raises to a shout, the orange Sky Flames growing wrong. Dark and blistering and almost too-fragile as he shouts at them.

"Violent, cruel Hibari, quick to hurt and just as quick to leave you abandoned to 'fend for yourself', so ready to deem everyone around him as weak little herbivores, I don't chose you! Ryohei, so eager to fight and just as eager to ignore everyone who isn't your little sister, so ignorant of your words and actions that you don't even notice when you've joined in on the bullying and hurting and cruelty, I don't choose you! Lambo, to young and weak and cruel and childish to even care, only here for my mother and never for me, I don't choose you! Chrome, only here because it helps Murkuro, who wouldn't even care if I died in front of her if it got her her precious Mukuro faster, I don't choose you! I don't choose any of you! I never did, and I never will!" Tears are sliding down his face, and, as he opens his dark, burnt orange eyes and smiles, it's a broken, dead thing that matches his eyes perfectly.

"I choose me. I choose me because, no matter how hard I try, no matter how much I wish or beg or bleed or fight, no one else WILL. So, I will," he whispered fiercely, and there is a sound that isn't a sound, something the flows through the air and touches everyones Flames and makes the hair on the back of their necks all rise. A feeling, a sound, ominous and horrifying and leaving a soul-deep anguish in it's wake.

It's like shattering glass, like something precious breaking beyond repair, beyond forgiveness.

Tsuna's eyes and flames go black.

"I choose me," he whispers hoarsely, an agony in his rictus of a smile as dull black flames dance on his forehead, his eyes the dull, dark gray of ashes.

"Ts-Tsuna?" Yamamoto whispers, face white and a single hand curling almost protectively to his chest.

"He's gone into Discord," Shamal breathes, horrified, on the sideline, and no one moves, no one even breathes, as the once warm, kind teen goes cold and empty and wretched before them. Those black-flames die down to nothing, dull, emptyemptyempty eyes a dark brown instead of their usual tawny staring at them all, and it's like looking into the eyes of a corpse. Those eyes drift slowly, painfully, up to the sky once more, tears continuing to fall down his cheeks and his ghastly smile still held in place, as if it was glued that way.

"Isn't an empty sky the worse thing you can imagine?" He breathed blankly; one of his arms moves behind him and under his shirt. He lowers his eyes again, still smiling.

"Tuna-fish!" Iemitsu chokes out, a stumbling step forward, one hand reaching out and face as gray as ashes; Tsuna doesn't look at him, eyes locking with Xanxus.

"Isn't it?" He whispers to the older man, before suddenly moving. The arm that was behind him pulls forward and up, just like Reborn taught him, and, in a single fluid movement, a flash of silver, the gun's at his temple.

"I Choose Me," he whispers again, faintly, fervently, a plea, a sob, a prayer. The trigger's pulled to the sound of Iemitsu screaming his name.

Isn't an Empty Sky the worse thing you can imagine?

A/N: :)

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