"A mother's love for her child is like nothing else in the world. It knows no law, no pity. It dares all things and crushes down remorselessly all that stands in its path."

- Agatha Christie

On October 14th, Sawada Tsunayoshi joined the world, a fighter from the very first breath he drew.

Nana had been a young mother, just barely 20 years old when her stomach had first begun to swell. Her own mother wasn't there to guide her through the experience, and her husband was never by her side as often as he felt he should have been, but Nana never looked afraid. Through the cramps and the kicks and the long, unpleasant bouts of morning sickness, she wore a gentle smile.

Every day she would get up and talk to her child, rubbing her hands over her belly in small circles as she did the day's errands. In the evenings, she would rest in Iemitsu's favorite recliner, lean back, close her eyes, and sing to her son. She would tell him how much she loved him, how she couldn't wait for him to join her, whispering and giggling as she smiled and smiled and smiled.

Even when her water broke a full ten weeks too early, she smiled, all the way to the hospital.

She went into labor alone, surrounded only by nurses and doctors. Her parents were hours away, and her husband was overseas on business. For several hours she pushed and squeezed and breathed through the pain, hair drenched with sweat as her ears heard nothing but her own cries and the muffled encouragement of the strangers around her, until finally…

"Congratulations, Sawada-san," Tsuna was born at exactly 27 weeks. He was a frail little thing, weighing just two and a half pounds, his limbs like toothpicks. His cries were small and weak, soft little mewls that sounded about as strong as he looked. All the medical staff around him wore masks of concern, already gauging his chances of survival. But when Nana caught sight of his wrinkled, reddish-purple face, she let out a laugh that was filled only with joy.

"You couldn't wait to join me either, could you?" She cooed, reaching out to him. She was just barely able to brush his cheek with her forefinger before he was whisked away, the nurses already prepping him for the NICU. Instead of her child, a phone was placed in the new mother's outstretched hand.

"Your husband," The doctor explained softly, gazing at her with eyes full of sympathy as she lifted the phone to her ear and laid back down, exhaustion taking over her features.

"Dear?" She greeted softly.

"Nana? Are you alright? I've been calling and calling but they haven't been letting me talk to you! I'm so sorry- No, are you alright? Weren't you due in December? I-is our child-?"

"Dear," Nana gently interrupted his nervous ramble. "He's beautiful."

"…We haven't decided on a name yet, have we?"

"Tsunayoshi."

"Eh?"

"Tsunayoshi. That's his name."

"You've already decided? Without me?"

"I just gave birth without you, dear."

"Ah…Th-that's true, but…well, are you sure? Because I've been thinking about it, and I think I really like the name-"

"Dear," Her interruption was sterner this time. She had already made up her mind. "My son is Tsunayoshi. End of discussion."

"Alright, fair enough. But…isn't this a bit too early for him to be born? Is he going to be alright?"

"He's very small. And very weak. But you should have heard the way he cried, dear – his lungs are still small, but his voice was so clear. There's nothing to worry about. My little Tsu-kun's a fighter."

"Hello," Nana cooed softly, pressing her palm against the sheet of glass that separated her from her son. He had to be kept in an incubator at all times to maintain a normal body temperature, and she had yet to hold her son even once. "Are you still fighting hard, Tsu-kun?"

According to the doctor, Tsuna had been fighting very hard. He couldn't breathe properly on his own, his heart hadn't developed correctly, he didn't have the coordination to suck or swallow his food, and he was already having gastrointestinal problems. It had been two weeks since his birth, and the number of health complications they were finding continued to add up. There had been many days where he didn't look like he was going to pull through. But each and every time, he survived, continuing to draw every labored breath.

"He's got the heart of a lion," The doctor concluded before handing the phone back to Nana, who thanked him for having taken the time out of his busy schedule to explain the situation to her husband.

"Did you hear that, dear?" Warmth shone through her voice, spreading like honey. "The heart of a lion."

"That's my son!" The pride in Iemitsu's voice was palpable. "I'll be able to meet him soon. I booked the closest flight back that I could, but my bosses are merciless. Even after I told them I'm a new father, they still won't allow me to leave until my assignment is done! It's looking like it will probably be another month…I'm sorry, Nana."

"Take your time," She whispered, still wiggling her fingers at Tsuna through the glass. Truthfully, she didn't want Iemitsu to see their child like this.

Several sensors were taped to Tsuna's skin, wires sprouting from his small body to monitor his heart rate, blood pressure, breathing, and temperature. Needles poked into his skin, delivering necessary fluids and nutrients intravenously, while a ventilation tube sat in his mouth, passing through his windpipe to help him breathe.

Nana's brow furrowed as she felt a familiar stinging sensation behind her eyes, and she swallowed hard, determined not to cry in front of her son. He was suffering, but he hadn't given up. Even with everything going on around him, bright lights and strange noises, his eyes were open and staring ahead calmly. He seemed to be squinting back at her, his little leg kicking every now and then to let her know he was still with her.

He was still fighting.

"Take your time," She repeated with a teary smile. "We're not going anywhere."

"Nana!" Iemitsu barreled through the halls of the hospital, calling his wife's name like a battle cry. "Nana!"

Staff members were trying to hold him back, urging him to quiet down, but he swatted them away like flies, barely registering the interruption as he threw a door open.

"Nana," He repeated tearfully, beginning to cry almost comically for a man his age. "I came as soon as I could…"

The young woman giggled from her bed and held a finger to her lips, "Shh…"

"Nana…" He wailed again, more quietly this time as she beckoned him over.

"Look at how strong your boy has gotten," She murmured, looking back down with warmth in her eyes.

She reclined on the bed, a towel draped over her bare shoulders. Her arms were curled protectively around the small form lying contently on her chest. Tsuna's small head was turned towards her, his mouth latched firmly onto her breast, earnestly sucking the nourishment that only she could provide.

"W-when did…?" Iemitsu stuttered in surprise, kneeling beside her. "I thought he couldn't eat on his own?"

"This is the first day we've tried it," Nana explained softly, lifting a hand to stroke her son's head, trailing a finger along his cheek. This was also the first time she had gotten to hold him, really hold him. She didn't know if she would be able to bring herself to let go once their time was up. "It took a few tries, but he caught on quickly."

"Then, does that mean he's…?" Somehow, after all of the worrying he had done overseas, the hours spent letting his worst fears play out in his mind, Iemitsu couldn't quite bring himself to finish the question – as if doing so might shatter the possibility.

"He's going to be fine," Nana filled in for him, a broad grin stretching across her face. "The doctor said we should be able to take him home within two weeks."

All the oxygen left Iemitsu's lungs in one large, relieved exhale. Then, he began to laugh.

"I knew you could do it," He whispered, reaching out timidly to tap the back of Tsuna's hand softly. The infant jolted slightly, the little fingers of his hand flexing a few times before closing back into a small fist, locking tightly around his father's knuckle. The discrepancy in size was so wide that Tsuna's hand could barely hold Iemitsu's fingertip, but the man began to chuckle proudly. "That's one strong grip, Tsuna."

"Didn't I tell you, dear?" Nana cooed. "Our son is a fighter."

Little did she know that years later, when she murmured those words proudly once more, her husband would reply with, "He gets it from you."