Wash It All Away - Katekyo Hitman Reborn - 8086

ONESHOT

Summary: The Rain was Happiness. The Rain was Pain. To Haru, the Rain was him, her everything... Pure YamamotoHaru

My lack of KHR knowledge might make some things untrue or some characters OOC and I guess I'll explain some stuff at the end of the chapter, just so I won't spoil things! XD

I don't own Katekyo Hitman Reborn because if I did, there would be a lot more Haru loving!

Please forgive any mistakes, both character-wise and grammatically wise. I don't really have time to re-read and edit things.

This is a oneshot created for the poll I made a while ago about what kind of Yamamoto my dear readers wanted. You guys just had to go and choose the most complicated one. @___@ Well... I hope I succeeded in giving you guys what you want. <3

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Wash It All Away

HappyFace1886

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For Haru, the rain was special. There were times when it made her so happy, but there were also times when it had the power to tear her heart into shreds. In a way, it was ironic due to the heavy representation the rain seemed to hold in various cultures.

In some worlds, the rain represented fortune.

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Most couples loved it when they went on romantic dates. There would be a quiet picnic followed by a serene walk in a rose filled garden. For others, it would be a candle-lit dinner and the walk would take place at a beach with the full moon high in the air.

Years ago, Haru would have been one of those people.

But now, after constant exposure to the dangerous world of the Mafia, it was the little things that made Haru smile with joy.

Waking up in the arms of the one she loved was enough to make her tear up. Being able to run her hand through his short, messy mane made her sigh in content. Seeing him giving her a content smile made her want to kiss him endlessly.

And then when he would whisper her name...

“Haru.”

...as if it was the most precious word in the world.

He would then caress her cheek, gently pulling her closer until his lips were pressed firmly against hers. The moment he felt her softness, his hunger would grow and the kiss would become desperate to the point that she could feel his pain, his longing. He would tightly grip her hair, losing his hand within the forest of her soft locks.

“Takeshi,” she would gasp out, her bruised red lips parting with her soft cries. His lips would be eagerly attacking her throat as he would lave it lovingly with his tongue as he clung to her. The feel of her body against his, to know she was alive and healthy right before him, made him ache so much for her.

Yes, they didn’t need useless things like romantic settings or dinner dates.

Just seeing each other, to be lying peacefully next to each other, was more than they could ask for.

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But, no matter how many times Haru wistfully wished to deny it, some worlds viewed the rain as misfortune.

As loneliness.

As death.

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There was so much blood.

It stained the table she and Takeshi had their morning coffee.

It stained the white couch with the mismatched cushions she had personally chosen to decorate with.

And it stained the very bed the two would always wake up in each other’s arms every morning.

But despite the carnage and destruction, Haru couldn’t help but feel grateful that none of the blood belonged to her or anyone that she cared about. Still, her heart cried in despair as she clung onto the waist of her lover, preventing him from laying the final blow on the unconscious assassin lying on the floor of their bedroom.

“Please Takeshi,” she pleaded. “It’s enough... he can’t move anymore.”

He didn’t say anything, remaining still with his katana poised to kill.

“Look, his limbs are nearly torn off. He’s no danger to anyone.”

“He nearly killed you.” Yamamoto’s whisper was soft, but it echoed loudly within the room.

Haru almost recoiled at the fact. Her neck still burned in pain and though the bleeding had lessened, the sting still lingered. Slowly, one of her hands strayed to her neck and she winced when she pressed her hand against it. Haru leaned her head against Yamamoto’s strong back, feeling comforted by his presence.

“But he failed.”

Yamamoto’s muscles tightened even more under her. “But what if he hadn’t? If I had been a second too late, you would be dead! He could have killed you and it... it...”

Haru forcibly turned Yamamoto around and grabbed his face with her hands. “Look at me Takeshi. I’m alive! I’m alive, right here, right now, and right in front of you! If it wasn’t for you, I’d be dead right now! So please... please stop this.”

The katana clattered to the ground and Haru gently lowered her hands, trying to hide the quiver in them.

So close...

She had been so close to dying tonight.

But that didn’t matter. She was alive. That was what truly mattered.

Yet when she looked up at her lover and saw the blood –her blood– staining the side of his face, she couldn’t stop the tears from flowing down.

“I’m fine,” she hiccupped. “I-I’m fine... so-.”

Yamamoto swiftly pulled her towards him, enveloping her in his strong arms. He ran his fingers through her hair almost nostalgically, and the bitter irony didn’t escape her since in reality he had done just that this morning before the assassination attempt. He shushed her gently into her ear, rubbing his cheek against hers in an attempt to soothe her fears.

He was so sorry...

So, so sorry for putting her in such a dangerous situation.

His eyes darkened at the scent of her blood, at the taste of it through the blood stain left on parts of his lips.

Never again.

He would never allow her to be in danger ever again.

It didn’t matter if he had to kill.

It didn’t matter who he had to maim and destroy.

She didn’t deserve to be hurt or to be haunted by the dark.

He would protect her.

Because she was the other half of his heart...

...Just as he was the other half of hers.

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But in the end, none of those symbolisms mattered to Haru.

To her, the rain was special because it was what defined her Takeshi.

Some may think she might mean that he is the strong, kind-hearted man who had the power to fill her with so much love that she sometimes felt as though she was going to burst into a million little hearts or that, just like the isolated morose rain, he was the dark, powerful man who had the power to fill her with so many tears whenever he fell injured or became caught up within the dark world of the Mafia.

But no...

Takeshi Yamamoto was her rain because no matter how dark or bright the day was, he always had the power to wash it all away and fill her world with his love.

And that was what she loved the most about him.

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::owari::

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