One Summer's Day

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I'm really back to writing this time. This particular piece was inspired by Joe Hisaishi's piece One Summer's Day, and for those of you who don't know where this song is from, it's the opening for Hayao Miyazaki's Spirited Away. Awesome movie. Even better soundtracks. Anyhow. I do believe that I am coming down with the flu of sorts, and that is going to suck. Oh well. There isn't much dialogue in this first chapter and Hibari doesn't make an appearance until the second, but patience is a virtue. :D (yeah, right. Haha.)

Disclaimer: I do not own Katekyo Hitman Reborn. Sucks too. Like my cold. Any similarities in events or characters living or dead are entirely coincidental.

Enjoy!

Chapter One

Yamamoto stared at the giant brick building in front of him, frowning slightly. There just had to be a mistake. There was no way this could be his new dorm. The old, towering reddish-coloured structure had paint peeling off the wooden surfaces, rust covering the drain pipes and doors that looked like nobody had opened them for years, judging by the amount of moss growing over it. Yamamoto scratched the back of his head as he unfolded the piece of paper tucked into his pocket. Scrawled messily in a leaking pen was an address:

Vongola Residence
Namimori University Campus
8080 Nori Drive
Tokyo
Room #12

"Whoops." Yamamoto tilted his head, holding the paper up against the sunny sky. He'd gotten off at least six blocks early, thinking that it said Nami Drive, not Nori. Now here he was, stuck in the middle of nowhere a little ways away from the unpaved road, with only his duffle bag and baseball bat his friends had given him as a goodbye present for moving away to University for his athletic scholarship. If he remembered correctly, the bus driver had told him that because of the development of the new main road, the bus stops had been cut down and the next ride would be at least two hours' time.

"Damn," he muttered to himself. "This sucks."

Yamamoto sighed and dropped his bag and bat onto a patch of grass on the side of the dirt road. He was going to be late for registration, but that couldn't be helped. He didn't know his way around the area, and it would be worse if he took a wrong turn and got even more lost altogether. He hummed to himself, gaze drawn back to the old building. What was it doing here? This place was far from what would be deemed "civilization". It was probably abandoned. Yamamoto tapped his lip thoughtfully. He had nearly two hours to kill. Going on an expedition didn't sound too bad. Walking over, he carefully brushed to moss growing over the handles. Tugging at the large stone handles, the wood creaked loudly as Yamamoto used his weight to pull against the towering doors. A gust of wind whooshed past him into the inky blackness within.

Yamamoto peeked in, seeing nothing but darkness. Shoving his whole body against the frame, he pushed it all the way back until light flooded into the building. There was nothing interesting inside of it at all. The place had a vast stone floor covered with bits of dried leaves and dust. The walls were the same dark red colour, also peeling to the point of having wood show through. However, on the wall furthest from the entrance, there was an archway; a tunnel leading away to someplace else. Yamamoto stepped cautiously in, glancing around. The building looked a lot bigger on the inside than it did outside. The sunlight lit up the massive beams supporting the roof and the spacious area inside. Stepping in, Yamamoto followed the path illuminated by the sun pouring in from the doorway and headed towards the tunnel.

Common sense was telling him that walking back up the dirt pathway and back to the bus stop was the logical thing to do, not to mention definatly safer, but why spend two hours doing nothing when you could do just a little bit of exploring? His footsteps echoed loudly against the walls as he crossed the floor of the building and over to the tunnel. The sunlight didn't reach that far into the building. Only a small stream of brightness shone into the side of the tunnel. Beyond that, he could see nothing.

"Whoa, it's dark. Where's my cell phone?"

Yes, it was the typical teenager thing to do even though at nineteen years old, Yamamoto was far from being a young teen now. He pulled out his phone and unlocked to touch screen. The faint blue glow illuminated the curved arch above him. Taking a deep breath that smelled of earth and rainwater, Yamamoto walked onwards into the tunnel. The air moved around him, almost pulling the baseball player forward, which confirmed Yamamoto's belief that the passageway did lead somewhere. He felt around and touched to cool stone, which was slightly damp. He felt the walls curve, leading him in what felt like an S-turn. As he rounded to the side again towards his right, Yamamoto saw it.

A glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel.

Elated, he ran the rest of the way. It was a small sliver of sunlight streaming in through what appeared to be a crack in the wall. Takeshi arrived at it, reaching his hand out to feel around the wall. It was a different texture now; wood. His hand moved further down. Was that a handle? Yamamoto seized it and pushed hard. With another loud, creaking protest of wood, the doors gave way to Yamamoto's athletic build and swung open, flooding the tunnel with light. Yamamoto straightened up and stared.

He was standing in a grassy field now, which felt a bit damp under his converses and ticked his ankles. The wind blew smoothly, rustling the long, uncut verdant. A small pathway appeared from nowhere in the grass and cut up along and over the hill, disappearing over the edge. Yamamoto immediately started running up the path, curious to what lies ahead. The air was fresher than anywhere he'd been before, and the sky was sunny and the clouds were poufy and hung low, like giant marshmallow puffs. Who knew that the crusty old building led to someplace like this? He should come back for a picnic sometime.

Finally climbing up to the top, Yamamoto was greeted with a wide view of a winding river leading out to a vast plain of grass. The landscape dipped away from sight again to a point where Yamamoto couldn't see. But what intrigued him was a small village like cluster of buildings that crowded around the river's edge, just before the grassy hills rolled out of sight. Running down the slopes, Yamamoto waded through the tall grass and over to the village. It looked like a traditional Japanese setting. There was a small stream running over the stones leading up to a set of carved steps. Yamamoto came to a halt at the edge of the brook. A large stone frog was perched at the top of the steps; its mouth gaping open like it was trying to catch non-existent flies.

"Huh. You don't see a lot of that anymore." Yamamoto commented, taking out his phone to take a picture. His mobile beeped, flashing a red light. No signal.

The baseball player deleted the notification, sliding his cell back into his pocket before jumping over the larger stones that cleared the water's surface and climbed up the steps. It was all very quiet. Yamamoto walked up the unpaved path, occasionally crossing over pieces of stone slabs. The first few structures were small shacks with thatched roofs, then it gradually progressed to clay houses built vertically upwards at the road tilted sharply up, creating several winding steps here and there. The houses were somewhat mismatched; Yamamoto saw one residence use a sheet of metal for a door and another with funny poles supporting the balcony hammered together out of planks of wood and small timbers. Shutters were painted different colours and long, laundry strings hung across the street without any clothes on it at all.

"Is this a ghost town?" Yamamoto wondered aloud, his voice sounding strange in such emptiness. What a shame; this village seems like such a great place to live. Eventually, the incline evened out, and the road became wider and more spacious, leading into what looked like a marketplace. Shops of various foods, clothing, and herbs crowded around the street. They were all empty and dark, but the place didn't look unkempt. In fact, it looked very neat and tidy, and still very much in use. Yamamoto peered around. What was this place?

He counted four sushi shops, two ramen stands, saw a store with glass jars by the windows displaying lizards floating in greenish liquid, a bakery and two more clothing outfitters with silk kimonos on display. The style of the village also appeared to be very old-fashioned. Yamamoto hadn't seen these types of buildings in years. The road turned once more, and now the teen found himself staring at yet another flight of stone steps leading up to an impressive building.

"Whoa." Yamamoto muttered. "You definatly don't see much of that anymore."

The stairs led up to a stretch of cobblestone road and a vast bridge made of handsome, polished wood and painted flashy colours like red and gold. Beyond it was a giant building also painted the same colours. It looked like a giant mansion, several stories high, nearly as wide as the whole village and had large windows. The roof was made with elaborately designed shingles, fountains and stone statues like the frog back by the stream at the edge of the village decorated the outskirts of the house. Steam poured out of what appeared to be smokestacks near the back, black and sooty. A blue flag flapped in the wind, the word Bath House painted across it in white.

"Eh? A public bath house? What a flashy place." Yamamoto commented, running over the bridge to the building. There was no front door; only an entrance covered with glittery cloth and had wind chimes hanging around it. They tinkled in the wind, sounding eerie yet calming at the same time. Where was everybody? This place didn't look like it was abandoned; the smoke puffing out of the smokestacks and the overall tidiness of the whole estate proved that. Yamamoto pushed aside the decorations hanging over the entrance and peered inside.

It was dark. There was a large Chinese painting on display in the entryway and on a raised platform was a desk with little boxes lined up neatly on it. Yamamoto looked for a mat to wipe his shoes on, but found none. Tapping the dirt off of his footwear just to be polite, the baseball player took a step up onto the platform and ventured into the dim bath house. Even in the shady blackness, Yamamoto could tell that the place was elegant and fancy. Screens were set up around sitting areas, where there were low polished tables and comfy cushions placed neatly around it. Further in, there were more paintings of mostly Japanese mythical creatures and potted plants that sprouted huge yellow buds and perfumed flowers. Finally, Yamamoto came to a set of towering sliding doors with the word Bath written across the smooth surface of the wood. Reaching out, he pulled the doors back.

The bath rooms were magnificent. The giant dog bowl-shaped tubs were made of refined stone and could have easily fit a small truck in them. There were sheets of screens dividing them. Lamps were set on a low lighting, casting a warm glow over everything. At the end of the hall was an elevator that went all the way up to four other floors. Yamamoto could see the various community rooms behind the railing made of shiny wood. Steam rose from the tubs in several of the cubicles, and there was the sound of water draining somewhere. The scent of fresh herbs and salt water hung in the air like smoke and tickled his nose.

"Achoo!" Yamamoto sneezed, sniffling a little.

"Bless you!" A soft voice came from inside the cubicle closest to him.

"Thanks!" Yamamoto called in reply. There was a moment of silence. Then the baseball player caught on. "Wait, what?"

There was a tiny, "eep!" and to Yamamoto's shock, a person actually came scrambling out of the bathtub, slid down the curved side and came to a stumbling halt in front of the baseball player. He was a tiny little thing with a mess of soft, droopy light brown hair and large, hazel eyes, dressed in a blue yukata and had a pair of slippers on. He bowed over and over again, spluttering apologies.

"I'm sorry, Reborn-san! I promise I won't leave the sleeping quarters again tonight! I just wanted to take a walk and I know we're not supposed to be in the Bath Rooms, but I just needed to clear my head, I—"

"Whoa, whoa, relax kid, I'm not gonna hurt you or anything," Yamamoto said quickly, reaching out to grab the brunette's shoulder. The kid winced and then tensed, slowly looking up at Yamamoto. Confusion crossed over his face, and then his eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"Are you a customer?" he asked curiously. "How did you get in here before sunset?"

"Eh?" Yamamoto asked. "No, I don't think I'm here for a bath…I was just passing through this town."

The kid looked utterly perplexed. "Passing through? But there's still a minute or two before the sun goes down. How is that possible?"

Yamamoto stared. This kid was weird. "Well…it's not like I'm scared of sunlight or anything. I do like being outside in the daylight. It's nice weather out, why don't you go outside and see for yourself?"

The shorty stared back at Yamamoto like he'd grown an extra head, and then he went so pale Yamamoto was certain he'd faint on the spot. "Whoa, are you okay, kid?"

"You're a human?" the boy gasped as his hands shot out to grab at the sleeves of Yamamoto's shirt. "Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no…you've got to get out of here!"

"Huh?" Yamamoto asked, now confused. "What do you mean?" The kid was now pushing him backwards out of the Bath Room, tugging at his shirt and hands.

"You have to leave! Quickly! Don't linger!"

"What's going on?" Yamamoto questioned, now worried. The brunette looked fearfully around before dragging the bemused baseball player to the door way of the bathhouse. Outside, the bridge and the village was bathed in the golden glow of the setting sun. The kid wailed softly, now shoving Yamamoto off the platform. "Run! Don't look back! You must leave before the sun sets!"

A gong sounded in the distance, and suddenly, the front of the bathhouse was illuminated by the lamps. Yamamoto blinked, momentarily blinded by the sudden light. The kid gasped, dancing helplessly on the spot. "Go! Run for it and don't look back!"

Yamamoto stared at the brunette as the lights glowed even brighter. There was the sound of movement from the floors above them now, the sounds of footsteps and muffled chatter. The kid flapped his arms at him. "Go!"

Yamamoto turned and ran. He didn't know why the boy was suddenly so panicked, but there was definatly something weird about this place now. He dashed across the bridge and back down the stone steps into the village just as the sun finally vanished below the horizon. For a moment, there was nothing but a bluish darkness hanging over the shops, and then, the lights came one. Lanterns hung over the marketplace glowed suddenly as though somebody had lit a match in them, and Yamamoto froze on the spot as people began appearing. Literally appearing out of thin air, from the ground, coming out of the walls.

Except, they weren't really people.

They were ghosts.

Looks like Yamamoto's got himself caught in yet another problematic situation now, haha. :3 If you haven't guessed already, this is based loosely on Miyazaki's storyline for Spirited Away, though there will be some huge differences here and there, since Yamamoto's not really a crybaby and the other wonderful main character, Hibari, isn't exactly the most Haku-like guy around. If you can guess who the kid that helped Yamamoto was, I'll throw you a cookie (it's pretty obvious). :D

Thank you for reading! Reviews are always appreciated.

-BlackStar