Disclaimer: I do not own Katekyō Hitman Reborn. And unless I become rich off of real estate and purchase it, I never will.

A/N: Hello, I'm RensaSora. Nice to meet you. I won't lie and say I'm not excited about posting my first fanfic, but unfortunately my nervousness is making me a bit… formal. As this is my first time using this site(especially since I'm typing this on my phone), please try to excuse a few errors in this chapter. If you see them, tell me in a review or PM and I will correct it. Constructive criticism is welcome; updates will be sporadic at best. Don't be surprised if I disappear for weeks and suddenly five new stories pop up. My muse spawns plunnies faster than Minecraft spawns zombies after nightfall.

Rated T for Graphic Violence, Dirty Language, and my even Dirtier Mind(which will come into play much, much later). You Have Been Warned.


It was burning.

Orange sparks swirled, dancing in and out of the plumes of thick black smoke that billowed from the blaze. The earsplitting wails of multiple sirens echoed, almost entirely drowned out by the roaring flames. Many of the few remaining windows that had survived the blistering heat shattered as a sudden explosion shook the already unstable building to its foundations. A pillar of fire roared its way nearly fifty feet above the burning roof, bright light darkening the night sky even further and dying the surrounding forest an unnatural red.

To the untrained ear, all was quiet save the sounds of the blaze hungrily devouring what was left of the decrepit hospital building; the sirens having faded long ago as their wiring melted. However, among the crackling, roaring, crashing, chaos of the blaze, newer, quieter sounds became more apparent.

Namely, the screams.

High, shrill screams of pain and fear, terror and agony, mixed with a multitude of shouts, shrieks, and the indistinct but unmistakable sound of gunfire. Most haunting, however, was the maniacal laughter that rung out at infrequent intervals; the voice strangely young, almost child-like, but layered with a world-weary cruelty and insanity that no child's voice should be capable of holding.

Together, the crackling flames, shrieking cries, and almost demonic laughter made the whole scene similar to a chorus of the damned screaming in agony as the devil laughed upon his throne of skulls in hell.

Among one of the many ruined hallways, most of which were alight with orange and strewn with bloodied, burnt corpses, a small figure ran. Clutching a rag to its mouth and nose and cradling an oddly shaped bundle to its chest, the child –for child it was—sprinted along the maze of windowless corridors, flames licking along the edges of the filthy, off-white hospital pajamas he wore. Ducking under a beam in a partially collapsed hall, the small boy finally found what he was looking for; a stairwell, exit sign melted by the heat, at the end of the smoke-filled hall.

He was almost there when, with a groan and loud crack, the floor gave way almost beneath his feet. Skidding to a stop, the boy lurched back, away from the sudden flare of heat and flames that erupted through the jagged hole to the floor below, orange light reflected off of eyes glowing the same bright hue; eyes that snapped up to the ceiling for the barest of seconds before he turned and fled in the opposite direction. With a loud crash, the ceiling gave way behind him, flaming wood and concrete crushing the space where he'd been standing just moments before and sealing off the only exit.

He was trapped. Head whipping back and fourth as he doubled back along his path, he paused at one of the many opened doors a long the hall before ducking through it. A child's corpse, sprawled across the table it was chained to, lay in the center of the room with its abdomen cut open and organs exposed to the scorching air. His eyes lingered on the sight, regret, pain, sadness, and a myriad of other emotions flickering across his dirty, soot blackened face before he removed his makeshift mask and strode forwards to gently cover the child's face. He stayed for just a moment more then turned away, towards the collapsed wall at the far end of the room.

He ran, leaping over the rubble and dashing down the new hall, looking for a way to escape. Not seeing anything until—There, at the end.

A window.

The bulletproof glass was still mostly intact, but perhaps the cracks branching along its surface would weaken it sufficiently to allow him to—

Putting on a burst of speed, the boy shut his eyes and leapt, small body curling around the bundle in his arms as he hit—went through—the glass. He fell in a rain of sparkling shards, wrapped around his precious cargo as he fell from the eighth floor. Mere yards from the unforgiving ground, a burst of orange flared to life atop hair matted with grease and blood. At the last minute, he unfurled himself in a single, swift movement, orange fire flaring around his ankles as he landed with a thunderous crack.

Abruptly, the flame on his forehead fizzled out as he staggered forwards, falling to his knees as burning orange faded to a tired brown and he began to cough. He covered his mouth with a dirty black hand as the fit intensified before subsiding. Fingers came away red.

"THERE'S ONE!"

His head snapped up, sharp amber gaze turned in the direction of the sound before brown bled into orange and a flame flared to life as he leapt to the side, away from his former position as a hail of bullets impacted the ground. Pulling his legs in, he executed a neat front flip and landed in a crouch by the trunk of one of the trees, over twenty feet away.

"DON'T LET THE LITTLE BASTARD GET AWAY! KILL IT!"

He whipped his head around to stare at the group of approaching gunmen, each injured or burned in some way, as they raised their weapons to again fire at him. As the bullets left the barrels, orange flashed red and he, with an almost fluid grace, stood and threw his arm outwards in a sweeping motion towards the rapidly approaching projectiles. A wave of crimson flames flowed from his fingertips in an arc, disintegrating the bullets on impact.

"SHIT-!"

Ruby momentarily shifted back to orange before darkening to a rich indigo, and with a flick of his fingers, black vines covered in wicked looking thorns erupted from the ground underneath the men's feet, wrapping around their legs, torsos, arms, and faces. They hardly had enough time to scream before the boy clenched his fist, the vines tightening around their victims as blood spurted and bones cracked.

Once the thrashing and muffled shrieks of agony stopped, the boy slowly loosened his grip, vines gently withdrawing as the bodies fell, crushed and torn beyond recognition. Indigo became orange and faded away as he cautiously slipped back into the shadows provided by the forest, allowing the vines to dissipate in a dark blue mist that dispersed in the air.

Pausing near the trunk of the largest nearby tree to intently scan his surroundings, dark eyes nevertheless snapped down to the bundle still cradled gently in his arms when it wiggled and gave a small cry. Shifting it in his arms, he lifted his hand to brush back the edge of the cloth, revealing a small baby. Wide brown eyes stared into his own, before filling with tears as the much younger child started crying in earnest.

Sighing, he slumped backwards against the tree's trunk as brown eyes became gold and he lifted a softly glowing hand to press against the baby's forehead. The tears slowed, almost stopped, and a quick shift from gold to blue had the child once again fast asleep.

The boy gave a quiet laugh. "Out like a light, aren't you?" he said, carding his fingers through the child's soft, fluffy hair as blue became brown. "You must be tired after today's excitement. Sleep well, I'll protect you."

He glanced over in the direction if the still burning building when a tortured scream and laughter that sounded suspiciously like "Kufufu" carried. He huffed another laugh, leaning further against the trunk to stare at the small patch of sky visible through the dark green foliage. "Though whether or not that means from the rest of our fucked up little family remains to be seen. Now, you need a name. Let's see…?"

He paused in his musings as a pale light shot across the small patch of velvet sky. An involuntary smile curled his lips. "Well what do you know? A shooting star." He whispered, rocking the sleeping baby in his arms. He turned to look at the face currently pressed against his chest and his smile gentled. "Well, it seems that heaven has decided to name its newest angel itself, rather than leave the task to a lowly mortal like me. However, since 'Nagareboshi' isn't exactly a feminine name…"

He pressed a kiss to the smaller child's temple. "Hoshiko. You're name is Hoshiko." He smiled down at the face, so like his own, yet so innocent and pure compared to the darkness that already tainted his own soul.

"Nice to meet you, Hoshiko. My name is Sawada Tsunayoshi. I promise to take good care of you from here on out."


A/N: I figured out how to work it. Fixed some slight errors.