Title: For You I Will

Summary: When love and loss drive you to desperation and madness, there is no where else to go but hell. Adult 8018.

Disclaimer: KHR belongs to Amano Akira.

Warnings: Blood and gore. Character deaths.

~~~~~love~~~~~

Yamamoto stares brokenly at the proud figure in front of him. His chest heaves as he painstakingly takes step after step towards the glowing fireplace. All around him lies carnage. Bodies litter the ground at his feet. Men, women, and children have been mercilessly slaughtered. Their innards strewn about the living room, and their blood gathers to a pool near the fireplace where the proud figure stands. Despite his cloudy mind, Yamamoto knows that not a speck of blood will be found on this figure. A whole family annihilated, and yet, the person standing amidst the chaos bares no evidence of the crime. If he was not so injured, he'd have laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. After all this time, he hasn't changed at all. How like his beloved.

Yamamoto coughs as his own blood clogs his throat. His hand clenches at his side. It feels empty without his sword, but there is nothing he could do about it. He has long abandoned his sword, having buried it in the body of whose eyes will haunt his conscience, forever reminding him of his betrayal. And yet, he can not bring himself to care at the moment, not when the person he has so fiercely searched for is right in front of him.

His hand reaches out, desperate to take hold of the person in front him. A part of him wants to strangle him, to hurt him. He wants to yell, to scream, to kick. Anything to make sure the person in front of him is real. The other part just wants to take him and run as far away from reality as possible. It's been a year. A year he has searched, committing sin after sin for this man. For this man before him, without any mind to the consequences or repercussions, he's murdered and betrayed all that has made him Yamamoto Takeshi. Gone are his friends. Gone is his family. His humanity has long been forgotten. He doesn't care anymore as to how far he's gone, how much he's done. He's already sinned beyond forgiveness. But, none of that matters anymore because, right now, all his efforts has come to fruition. All there's left to do is claim the prize in front of him. And, oh, how badly he wants him.

A dry sob escapes his lips as his fingers touch the soft fabric of the black suit. He's real he tells himself. He's real.

"Hibari," he whispers. His hand shakily reaches up to cup the smooth face of his love. He clumsily wounds his other arm around the man, holding him tightly against his chest. Again, he murmurs his love's name. A year of loneliness, worry, and pain rolls off him in waves as he tightens his hold on his lover and buries his face in the fine strands of black silk that smells, still now, of lavender. His body shakes as sobs after sobs wrack his thin and tired frame.

"It's over. It's finally over, Hibari."

He pulls back to look at the face he's missed so much. Blood now stains the other's face and clothes, matching the broken state of the man who has held him. Tears fill Yamamoto's eyes as he roams the face of the man who drove him to hell. Beautiful, still, after so long. Yamamoto lets his hand glide over the flawless skin as white as marble and as smooth as silk. His fingers trail lightly over tinted cheeks and elegant cheekbones. Without hesitation, he leans down to capture parted lips even as his thumb tour over their contours. Sweet and oh so heavenly. Yamamoto aches at the familiar taste. His ambrosia.

Yamamoto breaks away from the kiss to stare into the beautiful eyes that have haunted his dreams ever since that time he fell in love. Hard, unforgiving, and full of blood lust, Hibari's eyes are what he has missed the most. He's missed the way his heart would flutter and catch at his throat whenever he's caught those heated stares directed his way, and he has missed those powerful glares that sends his blood flowing to his cheeks and groin. Yamamoto has known, from the very beginning, that he was a goner the moment Hibari's set his eyes on him. They've pierced his very soul and has claimed it as their own. And, now, as he stares into that feral gaze, he loses himself all over again.

"I love you," he gently whispers. After so long, those words he's always wanted to say spills out of his mouth in breathless sighs.

"I love you, Hibari. I love you so much." He clutches tightly at the body in his arms. His words coming out in waves as he confesses over and over again to make up for the chance he's lost a year ago when Hibari has been so cruelly torn from his side.

"Yamamoto," came the quiet happy murmur. Startled, Yamamoto quickly pulls Hibari at arms length to stare at the other.

"What?" comes the startled response. There's something wrong. Yamamoto silently scans the skylark's face for any signs of foul play. He couldn't find any. But, still, something isn't right.

"Hibari, what's..." There. Right there. Yamamoto quickly backs away from the other, startled.

"Hibari, what's going on?" Yamamoto panics. That smile. That smile isn't suppose to be there. Why is Hibari smiling his smile?

"Yamamoto," Hibari murmurs again as he reaches out a hand to the other. Yamamoto backs further away from the other.

"Stay away!" Yamamoto cries. Hibari's hand, no, not a hand, bones with flesh hanging off of it in strips, reaches out for Yamamoto. The man stumbles toward Yamamoto, balance gone as his flesh peels off. His eyes rolls into the back of his head, his hair lost its luster. A bony grin flashes Yamamoto's way as he stumbles backwards, away from this monster.

"Who are you? Where's Hibari?" he yells. The corpse in front of him stops, as if confused. Then, it widely grins again as it suddenly lunges at Yamamoto. Yamamoto screams as the corpse wraps its bony fingers around his neck. It's putrid smell penetrates Yamamoto's senses, making him nauseous.

"Why, idiot herbivore, I'm right here. Aren't you glad to see me?" the corpse cruelly breathes out. Yamamoto struggles violently to break free. He kicks the corpse off him and sent it flying towards the fireplace.

"Shut up! You're not him! Where is he?" Yamamoto violently screams at the other. The corpse stands up with a grin still plastered on his mangled face.

"You don't recognize me? Shame," says the corpse as it once again made a move towards the shaking swordsman. Suddenly, its body shifts and changes its shape. Its body got longer, its hair shorter, a scar appears on its chin. The figure stands proudly in front of the shocked man, sword in hand.

"Do you remember now?" Yamamoto Takeshi asks as he stares into the frighten eyes of his broken counterpart.

"You! You're not real! Where's Hibari? Give him back!" Yamamoto yells at his grinning doppelganger. The grinning Yamamoto lost his smile and a sad weary expression appears on his face.

"He's gone, Yamamoto. Kyouya's dead. He died saving us, remember?" the sad expression remains on his face as he retold the event.

"NO! You're lying! Hibari was right there! Right there! Give him back to me!" Yamamoto screams, vehemently, at his other self. Hibari's not dead. He's not.

"But, he is. He's dead. That night a year ago, we went on a mission together. You got careless and didn't notice the sniper. Hibari got in the way, and died. He died right in our arms!" The other Yamamoto held out his arms covered in blood for the other to see.

"NO!" Yamamoto cries as he tries desperately to deny the claim. No. That didn't happen. It didn't. The voice in his head told him Hibari was taken from him. Kidnapped. It told him if he killed all of mafia, then he'd have Hibari back.

His doppelganger smiles at him sadly as he replies, "It did. It happened, and you went on a rampage. You ignored Tsuna's orders. You went and killed all of the Armani family. And, that broke you even more. The family tried to console you. They tried to help, but you wouldn't let them. You became crazed. In time, you started to hate all of the underworld. You hated the mafia that took away your love. You hated them. So you killed me, the part of you that made you human, and went on a killing spree. Families after families died at your hands. Vinci, Ferrali, Varia, Shimon, Cavallone! Look around you! Look!" The other Yamamoto gestures violently at their surroundings.

Yamamoto looks and looks and looks. Everywhere lie his friends and family. Ryohei lies face down on the carpet by the door, hands severed from his arms and lying by his head. Gokudera's body is pinned to the wall, eyes open and blood dripping from his mouth. Across from Gokudera's body, Haru and Kyoko lie over the bodies of Lambo and Ipin, protecting them even in death. In a chair, Chrome sits with a hole where her heart should be. Bianchi sits next to her in the same state. Everywhere is stained by the blood of Vongola men and women. The worst sits in front of him by the fireplace. There Tsuna sits in an armchair with Yamamoto's sword protruding from his chest. His expression is filled with sadness and betrayal.

Yamamoto stares at the scene before him with wide crazed eyes and couldn't fathom what he is seeing. He couldn't breath. His beloved family. Dead by his hand. Impossible. He would never.

"Yamamoto Takeshi," a voice, suddenly, calls from behind him. Yamamoto whirls around, wide eyed, and is confronted by the man he has wanted most to see. Hibari looks normal. Just like he did a few minutes ago. Beautiful and alive.

"Hibari!" Yamamoto cries as he runs and trips over himself to get to the other. He sobs into the skylark's chest, and holds him for dear life. Relief floods through him. He's okay. Everything's okay.

"Yamamoto Takeshi." Hibari repeats. Yamamoto looks up at the face of his beloved and sobs at the scorn and disappointment he sees there. Guilt wracks his frame. His fake pretense at peace disappears. Self-hatred invade his senses as he stares into Hibari's eyes. Those eyes tell him what he doesn't want to acknowledge. They tell him he's wrong, tell him he's a herbivore. They tell him he's pathetic. He clings tighter to Hibari, begging silently for forgiveness.

"You're pathetic. I thought you were better than this." Hibari scolds Yamamoto as he runs a hand through thick dark hair slicked with blood. Yamamoto continues to sob as a humorless laugh escapes his lips. Trust his beloved to say the most biting thing on his mind.

"You will stop this right now Yamamoto Takeshi. Do not cry in front of me." Hibari pulls away and pierces him with a cold gaze. Yamamoto immediately stops crying. He reaches out to Hibari, desperate to keep him in his arms. Hibari moves further away.

"You will fix this mess Yamamoto Takeshi. Hurry up and finish the job. I'm waiting for you." With that said, Hibari vanishes. Yamamoto cries out desperately as he lunges for the skylark, crying out for him not to leave, but it's already too late. Hibari has left him again.

Frantically, Yamamoto looks around for something. Anything that will help him bring Hibari back. But, there is nothing. Nothing but carnage. Suddenly, Yamamoto feels like laughing. He feels like crying. He doesn't know which one he wants to do more. Hibari's gone again. He's left. After he's done everything to get Hibari back, he's gone again. Slowly, as if all the life has been drained out of him, he looks around at his fallen family members and, unconsciously, smiles at the scene. Here, he stands in the midst of them, a broken man without a soul. He doesn't want to do this anymore. Tiredly, he turns his gaze to the body of his longtime friend and boss and questions him.

"What should I do now, Tsuna?" No answer comes his way.

So, Yamamoto laughs. He laughs and laughs and laughs. He laughs until tears slide their way down his face. He laughs until he falls onto his knees in pain. He laughs until all the regret, anger, and sadness have left him. Violently, he laughs.

And, as suddenly as it happened, Yamamoto stops. The room becomes silent once more. Yamamoto shakes his head, as if to clear it, and looks down at his bloodstained hands. Hibari's not dead. Resolutely, he calls to his beloved, "Kyouya, I want to go home."

As if to answer him, Hibari's departing words echoes around him, "Hurry up and finish the job."

Finish the job. Smiling, he rises. Kyouya says to finish the job. So, he'll do just that. Yamamoto Takeshi is Vongola. He too is mafia. He hurt Kyouya. He has to die. Maybe, then, Kyouya will return.

Yamamoto quietly approaches the body of his long time friend, and calmly pulls his sword out. He'll finish the job. And once he's done, all the pain, the grief, and the guilt will be gone. He'll have Hibari back.

"Forgive me, Kyouya, for being a herbivore all this time. I love you."

"I know." Yamamoto smiles.

~~~~~love~~~~~

Author's Note: This story is psychological. Every supernatural thing Yamamoto sees and hears is in his head. Thanks for reading. Please review!