We Are Vongola

Melancholy of a Song

A little boy sat on the bench in the rain, an umbrella he was holding in his left hand covering his face. The black hood of his hoodie sat on his back, and as people passed by, he was forgotten while they had their own needs. It was like he wasn't even there.

The boy swung his legs, stretching them out to the height of the seat back under where he sat, humming a melancholy that someone would only describe as sadness. While everybody had passed by him, a few had paused, hearing the tune of the song, and soon enough, it would be stuck in their minds for the next week or so. Maybe a month if his feelings were this strong.

I'm no-good, was the boy's thought, and he stopped swinging his legs. He lifted his gaze from the sidewalk to the park, where there was nobody on the swings. A soft chatter of dripping rain fell from the sky and into his ears, and pulling the hood of his hoodie over his head, closed his umbrella and ran to the swings.

As he sat on the wet seat, he squealed a little feeling it absorb through his pants, but he soon adapted and set the umbrella underneath his feet, feeling the rain hit his hands that was gripped tightly around the metal chain of the swing as he brought his legs up and down. Up and down.

The motion of the swing calmed his thoughts, but it didn't stop them. Failure. Failure, failure, failure, failure. The boy continued swinging, but there was one difference of the scene. Tears ran down his face, ones that could be mistaken as rain if they first saw him. He couldn't stop crying, so it was like a waterfall down his small, chubby cheeks.

The boy didn't stop swinging, however. He swung higher and higher, until he thought he could nearly reach and grab a dark grey cloud off the sky. The sky was feeling sad, just as he was. What a coincidence.

His humming restarted again, but in a happier tune because of the effect of the swing. The swing had always made him feel better. He could sit on it for hours and hours, and his mother would never notice. Suddenly, his tune stopped as his eyes widened.

"It's Tsuna!" A shout pierced the silence as a kid from his class pointed at the boy.

The said boy blinked, and it registered the next heartbeat. In a blink, he grabbed his umbrella from beneath the swing and ran into the woods located next to the park. He could hear crashing steps as someone neared, and then they stopped.

Tsuna, however, did not stop. He was scared. He was terrified.

He couldn't meet their gazes.

It was his fault. It was all his fault.

Speeding up his run, he ran until his lungs threatened to collapse, his legs aching for a stop, his umbrella feeling like an small, large-weighted elephant in his hand.

Why wouldn't they leave him alone? Why couldn't they let him be?

He ran swiftly, his legs brushing past each other a couple times to remind him that they were present as well. The wind roared, and then, it was quiet. Tsuna bent over, huffing from his run. Looking around him, he saw no one. He saw nothing.

No trees, nor grass or the grey sky. Tsuna lifted out his hand, and felt nothing. Not even a drop of rain that was once falling from the dark clouds drifting by.

Tranquility washed over the frantic brunet, and Tsuna felt his eyelids weigh down on him, shutting him in complete darkness as he collapsed, knees buckling and body hitting the ground heavily from sudden exhaustion.

Waves of peace washed over him. Soothing him, wiping and erasing all of his previous, terrible memories. Tsuna wanted it to last forever. However, there was a small voice that told him it wouldn't. The absence of screams, yells, broken smiles and untouched tears would never leave him.