BEING 27 (KHR Fanfic)

The Baseball Star

"Hey hey, have you heard?"

Gossip spread through the class, almost everyone was talking but a single brunette wasstaring off to space.

"About the murder case yesterday? Well duh!"

"They say it was that assassin 27 again!"

"27's so awesome! He's been existing since forever ago and he hasn't been caught yet!"

"I know right? I heard the one killed this time was seriously nearby!"

"Whoa! Don't tell me we're next?"

"As long as someone asks for it with a price, anyone could be the victim!"

"Scary!"

[Wussies everywhere.] Tsuna secretly thought as the conversation continued. Soon enough the bell rang and the students went back to their own seats.

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"No, I don't freaking want him." One male growled at the other. "Neither do I, so YOU take him."

Tsuna sighed. This always happens when they were choosing teams for sports.

Out walked the baseball ace Yamamoto Takeshi.

"Hey, why not we take him in out team?" he asked.

"Hah? Yamamoto! We don't need him! He'll make us lose!"

"It's fine, it's fine."

"Fine...since Yamamoto said so..."

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In the end their team won but they still glared at dame-Tsuna and aske-no, ordered him to clean up.

Yamamoto decided to stay and help.

As well as Kakeru, keeping his image of a [kind] boy.

"Hey, Kakeru, can I ask something?" Yamamoto approached him, in which received a trained fake smile in return. "What is it, Yamamoto?"

"I'm getting bad at baseball nowadays, what should I do?"

"You're getting bad at baseball? The baseball star?" Kakeru slowly took off his invisible mask.

"Then you're of no use to this school anymore. Useless people like you are given the job to just go die."

Yamamoto was shocked.

Kakeru threw away the broom he was holding. "Ahh~ Now I've no reason to clean up anymore, right? Finish up the rest, Dame-Tsuna."

Tsuna was speechless. Did his brother seriously say all that to Yamamoto? He knew the shithead was an idiot, but not to this point. Wasn't his image the most important thing to him?

He looked at Yamamoto. He could tell Yamamoto was at a lost. Hie eyes shadowed his bangs and his ever shining smile had faded completely.

Tsuna gulped.

He touched the baseball star's shoulder and he snapped out of his trance. "Ah, sorry! Let's hurry up and finish, shall we?" Yamamoto's beaming smile was replaced with a fake one.

Tsuna couldn't answer. He just continued cleaning.

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As Tsuna opened the door, he was kicked out. "You're late, Dame-Tsuna."

He looked up to see Kakeru. [Reborn isn't home?]

"Where's my dinner?"

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It was another peaceful(?) day in Namimori, with the younger Sawada staring off into space, ignoring the older acting like he's an angel sent from heaven.

"GUYS! YAMAMOTO'S ABOUT TO JUMP!"

Everyone snapped their heads over at that, except the two Sawadas. Tsuna expected this. Kakeru was just 'I don't care'.

As everyone scurried out, Tsuna stayed until he sighed and looked around, making sure no one was around.

He looked at the CCTV. He sighed and went into the camera's blind spot, then covering the camera with a black cloth. In his bag he fished out his 27 clothes and mask. He put them on and went out through the window.

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On the roof were cries of people begging him to not jump. But all of that was returned by a few more words from the baseball star.

And suddenly his phone rang. Everyone was silent. Yamamoto thought a few times before picking the phone out of his pocket.

"H-Hello?"

"Yamamoto Takeshi, is that all you think your life is worth?"

"Wait, what? Who are you?"

"I'm 27."

Yamamoto gasped and held his breath.

"Yamamoto Takeshi, are you really going to give up with just one broken arm?"

"How would you know how I feel? I'm good at nothing but baseball. But now I can't even do that."

"I myself is a useless person in real life. All I could do was finish missions to earn my own pocket money ever since I was young."

"What does that mean?"

"You'll know, soon. But one broken arm is nothing. It'll heal. I myself have broken my arm before. On the contrary, I'd broken all of my limbs at least once. I just left it to heal."

Yamamoto was silent. He looked around for the person who was possily calling him. Then he spotted him at the roof of the building opposite.

The male wore a black hooded shirt, with long dark jeans and a white mask. No doubt, that was 27.

"It seems you've spotted me."

"Don't you look about my age?"

"Yep, I am. I'm pretty young, that's why no one ever suspected me yet."

"Surely a successful tactic. But not that I live to tell anyone."

"Then live. Tell someone. Find out my identity."

"I'd rather not."

"How about this? If you jump, I will too."

"Not something I'd care about."

"What about me telling you my identity?"

"What?"

"If you step down from there, I'll tell you my identity."

"Seriously?"

"Yes."

This time there was no answer. 27 coughed, his voice getting weaker by the minute from lack of use. It won't be much longer until his voice completely runs dry. But still he took a deep breath and started humming.

As he stopped he coughed once again.

"W-Whatever you do now...will depend...on yourself."

He barely choke out the last line before hanging up and coughing harshly. Using your voice for so long after keeping it on a lid for nearly ten years is a bad idea.

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Yamamoto stepped down from the ledge, looking back at the other building, in which the male was gone, before walking away.

[27...you had better keep to your promise...I want to know who you are..."