Khr ain't mine.

Hope you enjoy the story (maybe it ain't so appropriate with its contents, but hey you do you).

Lemme know what you think. It's nice to hear about it :)

If things are confusing, lemme know bout that too, I'll clarify things in the author's section. Feel free to point out inconsistencies or any constructive criticism. It's much appreciated.

Well, off we go! 三ヾ(ヽ*ω*)┌┛

Chapter 1

Inherit my will

There was a lone tiny figure that stared at his birthday gift, a life-sized ball joint doll. His auburn eyes stared single-mindedly at the doll, his little palms gripping at the cold texture of its own hands. His house was merry with chatter since the long-absent stranger that was his supposed father had visited the child, a week after his birthday. It was his new birthday, the child supposed as he momentarily shifted his blank eyes, brown hair swaying with the changing position, to the banners and cake followed by the confetti that littered their floor. He felt like is that confetti was dirty white, like those bandages that unraveled with his mother's admonishments with his clumsiness would make this day more routine.

He supposed this may be his new birth-day, a week from the one listed in his birth certificate. He was to enter middle school in three months and he honestly feared for his life, willing to pray for whatever deity would grant him peace.

'Coward' was one of the various nicknames that his classmates picked for him. Words that was never aimed at someone other than him. Wasn't he just so darn special?

He snapped his thoughts that swirled around his life and concentrated at the porcelain doll. His dad picked it for him and the brunette glibly ignored the slight disdain aimed at him for having such a hobby. The thing is, Tsuna didn't have an interest in dolls, but in their human-like features, their porcelain skin, dainty features that were highly sought for in real humans. He was given the freedom to freely stare at them, touch them, talk to them, mess up in front of them without fear of repercussions. It was the best deal that was offered to him, one that his stingy friends never let him have the liberty to do so. Well, maybe they did let him have that if he paid in pain.

He supposed that it wasn't their fault, it was purely his own. He was too distracted by the world and the wonders it offered that he tripped on pure air. Other times, he blocked everything it could offer him, leaving him in his headspace and mulling in circles and spirals. It left him blind to reality and sometimes he wondered if he would prefer to lose his consciousness to that illusion. But the people who lived in real life disdained his unfaithfulness to life in its true form, at least- that's what he reasoned.

Classes were a monotonous drone that plagued him for the majority of the day, and his lack of practice and reality left his answers far from what his teachers expected of him, of them- their students. He daydreamed during his alone time, his study time and procrastinated. He daydreamed during his soporific teachers' spiels. Thus, he got his just deserts.

He was never invested in sports on in the betterment of his physical abilities. The cheers for his team, the team huddle nor the coach's motivational speeches did not touch his heart. His teammates' frustrations from losing or irritation at his lack of effort and abilities didn't either. But, it wasn't like he didn't learn anything at all. He came to associate stuff like fists and shoes with pain, that he would flinch at their close proximity- like a good Pavlov's dog.

Tsuna as a wee little kid was scrawny and couldn't put any motivation he had then into good use. His hardest kick gave him recoil damage, his hardest punch was met by glares and a flash game of kagome kagome. They circled him immediately when the brunette's temper peaked and he let go his fists and feet lose, firecracker crackling. It wasn't the pain that ticked them off, it was the audacity that this weak little brat tried to teach them a lesson, that it didn't know its place. The little brat ruined things for them- their fun game, their fun talks, their precious limited time.

At First, it started with shoves and Tsuna didn't learn to let it go. Then it shifted to fistfights that were blamed on Tsuna. The brunette got blamed for acting out violently- Violence begets Violence- his mother lectured him. The bruises hurt and left him tired and aching and he was grounded without any comfort. His mother was a true pacifist after all. He couldn't concentrate on his classes and his teachers unhelpfully taunted the child for not contributing his bit in class. It wasn't like he could stay at home and recover since no excuses could warrantee a break in the prefect- Hibari Kyoya's book. Not that his mother was willing to testify for his pain and Iemitsu- his apparent father- believed that boys learn with their fists.

Then, his classmates, bolstered by the implicit support of the child's own mother and their teachers, decided to jeer at the child. Tsuna had been bitter from his humiliation in class and the stinging pain from his wounds and did not cut his losses. He pounced and was beaten down instantly, fighting unfair fights and not in his full strength. He got an earful from his mom again and his mind had gotten spooked from how furious his normally calm and sweet mom had been with him. His anxious mind bolstered his hearing and he heard and amplified his bad rumors and the gossip aimed at him. In his panic, he couldn't focus on his homework or on his lessons. His feet and hands were jittery and he couldn't respond aptly in the school's forced team games. His exaggerated reactions amplified by panic invited snickers and laughter. He struggled to find a balance, a perch from his desperate flapping and fluttering around...

So he made a bad decision. He decided to minimalize and try a force shutdown. He forced his expressions to a careful neutral and tried to make it stay there. He kept to himself and didn't let anyone enter his vision and escaped to his dreams. But he was apparently appointed as the class's best source of entertainment- perhaps the class clown. He just didn't realize it. He didn't perform his duties.

He clung to his dreams and woke up late to school more and more often. Hibari wasn't fond of his new routine and made sure the other knew that. Around this time, he took to staring at dolls and mannequins in stores as a coping mechanism. He shyly tapped their fingers and brushed his own with theirs. He could enter their personal space without any strange stares from them. His classmates, on the other hand, elbowed him immediately if his skin felt their breath on him. If he was 3 paces from the school idol Sasagawa Kyoko, with her sunshine smiles, Mochida Kensuke rained his fists on him- despite being the kendo captain.

Tsuna remembered that eyes lingered on smooth skin and cheery smiles, so his eyes lay drunk on the sight of the dolls that embodied the ideals that his society adored. Those dolls didn't breathe on him, weren't warm to touch and he was grateful for that fact. Nana- he meant, his mother looked at him strangely. He supposed that her reaction was well warranted for- his eyes glittered at their sight, something he sealed off in company. She made a wry smile at him and bought a doll for him that day, indulging in his nonsense.

She bought the doll that his eyes shone bright gold at, an infant-sized doll at an old antique store with a weird old man that had the Cheshire cat's smile on him. He named it Amore and blinked at her confusedly when she asked if it was a girl. She gave up on him exasperatedly at his response. He collected ball joint parts, resin mixes, dust cloths, rouge and other such paint that the shopkeeper recommended to him for doll maintenance. The brunette thought that the shopkeeper recognized a sucker to sell off merchandise to, but it worked for him, so he didn't complain- he never had the right to, anyway.

He used all his allowance on dolls from then on- the allowance his mom bought for snacks, games and such; the hobbies that his peers indulged in. Tsuna figured that his hobby- that his mother deemed as creepy- was less painful than the alternative. He would have to donate his toys and snacks to his friends in the name of friendship, camaraderie and solidarity if he bought those stuff anyway. One man's trash was another's treasure, he figured, so he invested in his pretty, gorgeous dolls. His hobby was something that was hidden away and literally closeted away, so no one knew this face of him, so there was no harm. As time passed, his family grew from one Amore to his Amore, Eros, Ludus, Philia, Agape, Pragma, Philautia, Ai, Koi, Tsuki, and Liebe.

He kept his mouth shut about ruined clothes, lest his mother invested in remunerating his loss- which he did only to redesign his new clothes for his dolls. His old clothes were patched and repatched til they were held together in forming his very essence-a cracked doll or better yet, vase. It no longer had the ability to store anything worthwhile and needed to be replaced ASAP. It didn't really matter anyway, his dolls had the spotlight and he was satisfied with that as his state of living. He served and worshipped them faithfully, enamored in their gazes that met his.

By this time, the meals his mom cooked and snacks that had been forced on him, as a last-ditch method for his mother to gain a normal child, was unappetizing to him. He could only somewhat find it delicious if he had starved until the next meal. But in his endeavor to better fit his palate, his stomach got used to the starvations and his body fit to suit his current schedule- meaning he remained weak, if not weaker. That was not good for his situation. His mother just assumed he was the skinny type that couldn't put on weight, so considered his condition as normal- because the otherwise, she would have to go through hell to fix things.

On the plus side, his hands became nimble as they became used to painting resin covering on them and peeling off old covers, replacing old parts after giving them a brief kiss, his hands treating them like fragile treasures. His cheeks would grow rosy as he made them try new clothes applied makeup on them. He moved his hands to his ears as he heard his mother laughed mockingly as she described his devotion to his father as they both laughed at the hilarity of the situation. If the makeup on his dolls got smudged by his dew drops, the brunette's smile betrayed nothing, neither did the clear glass like eyes of his dolls.

Lately, not a single person's eyes flickered when they laid sight on his dusty clothes, his tinted and spotted skin that was littered in craters of purple, blue, brown, yellow and red. His mother rolled her eyes on his form, exasperatedly sighing

"Mama's not going to be with you forever, my dame-Tsuna. Oh, What am I going to do with you, my clumsy, clumsy boy?"

The nicer people of his schoolmates, like Yamamoto Takeshi and Sasagawa Kyoko, looked through him or around him. Sometimes they didn't even bother with him and magically transformed him and gave him the power of invisibility. Sasagawa Ryohei, Sasagawa Kyoko's brother zipped right past him, his vision focusing on a brighter and hopeful tomorrow. It made him wonder if they were living in different universes because he could only survive with a bright today and couldn't see the future apart from the murky shadows that would entangle him. And his love held the torchlight and gave him the sight to see and acknowledge the present. He wondered what were the pillars that held the boxing club's captain up and hoisted him to such sights?

"Go to the extremes and things will work out somehow! How about you actually put your everything into something for once?"

The brunette wondered absent-mindedly if being an integral part of the sports team gave meaning to life? Aside from Sasagawa-san, Yamamoto-san also seemed to be his brightest, with the spirit of competition and support from the baseball team. People wondered if the lad had a one-way staircase to the major league with his abundance of talent. They crowded him like moths to flame, which was kindled by the lad's excessive talent and cheer. The only connection that Tsuna had with the male school idol, was that they both shared the lower rung of the class's grades- with him in last and the other in second last. Speaking of academics, he wondered regardless of whether he was actually right or wrong, did the assumptions and expectations that he would fail, make his grades and results- a self-fulfilling prophecy?

"All you gotta do is just pay a bit of attention to other people. How do you expect to get anywhere with anybody if you don't even see them in the first place?"

But that generalization of his didn't really hold true, he figured. Sasagawa-san's sister held her head in the cloud and maybe saw things in the same way as his mother. His mother didn't hear his neighbors gossip about her- like how Tsuna was the result of a one night stand or that she was the mistress since his father wasn't there. Things went to a better route when he had off-handedly commented that his father mentioned that he had gone to become a star. The damsel in distress made a better drama, he thought- now that she could be painted in a tragic light that his father went and died in a ditch and left her with a useless son to take care off. She had even less of a burden, judging by the crease of her eyebrow that he had made a distance between them by addressing them formally. Now she didn't have to associate with a literal manifestation of the plague.

The school's female idol twisted the world to her ideal, and the world was more than happy to play along to her narrative. When she spoke suggestions about the character of people, painting them in a positive light, they preened in the praise and took on that persona. Some people took those to another direction, so it wasn't a perfect technique, Tsuna mused, as Mochida Kensuke thought she fancied him and went on to court her aggressively- something he thought she didn't appreciate that much.

"Everyone has good intentions that can be misinterpreted. Why don't you give them a chance or try again until you both can reach an understanding?"

Well, not everyone looked upon him as kindly as they did. But harmless disdain that was spread to everyone, not just at one person was good enough for him too. Kurokawa Hana, Sasagawa Kyoko's friend, looked at most of the shenanigans of his male compatriots around his age like they were monkeys like they were so immature they devolved. But technically speaking, monkeys were our evolutionary cousins. She didn't appreciate those quips. She was like Adam to her friend's Eve. She didn't appreciate that analogy either. Either way, she was the weight that kept her grounded, so that her niceties and goodwill wouldn't be exploited. The lass was oriented practically, but pretty jaded when it came to people.

"You know, you would have a much easier time making friends if you were actually useful at something since people inherently make friends based on what advantage the other can provide, whether materialistically and intellectually, emotional and moral support or via social standing. Why don't you hone just one skill, any skill, regardless of its utility, so that you can be a part of a community?"

The prefect, or the leader of the disciplinary committee, a makeshift gang that let him do whatever he wanted legally (the type that bordered on downright shady with logic that was convenient for the leader...)- don't tell him that, he despises that way of thinking about it- was a teen that he thought was made completely from bloodlust and competitiveness that bloomed from the feelings of possessiveness. He changed the meaning of life to that of maintaining the hierarchy of herbivores and carnivores, and despite his seeming abhorrence to anything that broke order and his discipline, the other was hypocritically in favor of anything that put chaos into his routine. It was a dark, obsessive, twisted love that the brunette could empathize with. They were a type of acquaintance from the fact that chaos and misfortune were Tsuna's mistresses. So they met often and the brunette was caught in the crossfire. It was also the reason why Tsuna was the hospital's best customer.

"If you crowd, I'll bite you to death."

which Kusakabe, the demon of Namimori's assistant, translated (to something that was sweetened to levels Tsuna would consider diabetic and lost in translation, with how seemingly ridiculous it was)

"I think Kyo-san means that you're fine the way you are, Tsunayoshi-san. Why do you want to change?"

Tsuna didn't mind even if it were people in the neutral grounds and didn't care about him one way or the other. The strange shopkeeper that supplied dolls to him, Kawahira, the person who seemed like he had nothing in earth that could interest him- even if he had everything handed to him in a silver plate. The eccentric old man spoke in riddles and made the brunette feel like Lewis Caroll had been his acquaintance once and based the actual Cheshire cat off of him.

"You're an incomplete version of your actual self. It makes sense that you're not satisfied with the current status quota. What will you choose- Meeting your complete and total potential or see the beauty of your mysteries and imperfections?"

The mysterious Chinese man cloaked and hiding his true skin, that Tsuna dubbed as Fong, since he needed a Chinese translation of the man who was like the wind, more like a hurricane, with how calm he was, when in conversation with the brunette and how his presence faded in and out of existence in the town. They didn't meet frequently, but anyone that didn't beat him to pulp with no plausible reason was in his good books. His makeshift booth was the wingman to their meeting anyway- it made a good hiding place. If the Namimori citizens noticed the guy talking to thin air, if they ever did, it was all on him. Tsuna had a good impression of the guy for being as invisible as he was increasingly becoming.

"You say you want to change, but do you even know if the changed version of you would ever be better? Is there any person that actually has this silver spoon that you like to quip about?"

Tsuna felt like he felt bonds that could be created by commiserating with other people. It wasn't mutual, but indirect ones that tied people together with the ties of misfortunate victims- like Irie Shoichi and himself. He supposed that he put the other on a pedestal since the other was steps closer to fulfilling his dreams of being a robot, being good at machinery. It was a sentiment he was sure wasn't shared by the other, who seemed to be invested in becoming a musician despite not having the talent for it. The resignation that came with his belittlement that shadowed the redhead- from the bullying that stemmed from the other being a nerd and somewhat tone-deaf, was something that the brunette was familiar with. It felt like they were mirror images with different circumstances and he was a sham of one since he was bullied for being utterly incompetent and resigned to never forming an actual connection with a real person. It worked for Tsuna since his dolls couldn't talk back to him and let him know what they thought of him.

"What good would change bring anyway? Can you change the thoughts of what people think of you if you do? Even if you do, can you accept the thought of someone taking your place to perpetuate the cycle?"

Tsuna looked at their questions when he tried to see if he could vision a happy tomorrow blankly, unable to give a coherent answer. His dull eyes grew duller with each response, as with time he felt like the strings that were holding him up were breaking from the tension. He couldn't come in terms with his fate, but no one had a clear answer that lead to different directions. He knew the actual problem- he couldn't lift himself up and bear the burdens that came with being himself. He couldn't take responsibility for his self. He distracted himself with the things and ideas that people provided and established. He could be anything and everything, but he couldn't face himself.

Humans didn't have a hive mind. In the end, what he had was himself- but he didn't own himself either. The people around him had different fragments of himself, but they were all alien to him in the end. Even if his mirror neurons could bridge the gap to them, there was always a gap. There was an adventure and so much to explore if he wanted to explore his own existence, regardless of how pathetic he was as a being. There was even more, to explore in the world and in the universe... but he was tired.

He felt like he could collapse any moment from the tiredness that enveloped him everyday. It made him see his every day through a pinhole camera- warped, sharp and darker than it actually was. He tiptoed a carefully laid out balancing act and fatigue was weathering away on his concentration and resolve. He wondered where he was going as he felt his limit embrace him. He was a one-man act and he wondered when will the curtains close?

Back to his birthday,

he lifted the doll to his room, leaving the lively atmosphere behind and looked at the brown haired doll with spiky hair. He dressed it in a bloodred dress suit and gave it a black vest with silver tinted sky blue buttons and put up black tailored pants. He put an Eldredge knotted tie on the immaculately dressed doll and finally giving it golden contact lens. he kissed its fingertips and proceeded to stare at it blankly.

After about two hours he spoke in a clear voice-

"Hello there. I hope you'll like your new house. I thought of a name for you, I wish you'd be happy with it.

Is the name Tsuna fine?"

His lips trembled at the last line and a single tear traced his cheek. Tsuna looked at the floor during the entire conversation. His other dolls stared at him wordlessly and he felt like something knotted up in his heart as he acknowledged one of deepest, dirtiest secrets.

Then, as if hiding his shame he leaned onto the shoulder of the doll and slept peacefully and something in him snapped.

For the next two to three days, he spent the day living like a ghost- dazed and silent. There was nothing to interrupt his reverie.

With the passing hours, his mind felt heavier and heavier like something was breaking apart.

His mother thought he caught a fever and told him to get the medication from the cabinet, and went back to cooking.

He came back to the doll that he had been spending an obsessive amount of time with, trying to make it reach different heights of perfection. His mind was shrieking in desperation, searching and seeking something. He spent time giving it a human skin like texture with different materials trying to making it reach some faraway dream.

It was so close, yet so far away.

His vision darkened as he felt his breath ragged as he felt things were hopeless. The doll held all his hope and his dreams. His imagination gave it dreams, but it felt like the more he tried, the more of a gap widened between the doll and himself.

It must be his fever that made his vision blurry.

He needed a closer look, he needed to see it and catch up to it.

He swallowed all the pills in the prescription and then felt like puking. But he couldn't allow it this time. He couldn't cater to the whims of his body. He needed this even if his body didn't.

His physical being was always at odds with his mind anyway. He wanted this freedom.

Slowly, his vision darkened and regret consumed him like a burning inferno.

'If only I had more time. If only I was more...'

His eyes closed, with his last vision fixated at the gold eyes of Tsuna

The room filled with the echo of the clacks of ball joints as the doll moved towards at his former master that doted them dearly. He struggled to lift him to drag him down the stairs of the Sawada residence. With every movement, he felt like the other, only in death got freed from whatever sealed him. It was like a fire filled him and reached every nook and cranny- encompassing his very existence- granting him life.

The other climbed up the tree with the brunette hanging over his shoulders. golden flames leaked through his eye sockets and the doll barely registered anything. He gently put Tsunayoshi on top of the roof, as he felt like visions- memories he supposed flushed into his head.

He lifted the other's head to let him see the night sky filled with stars, hoping to convey the regards he had wanted to let the child in front of him know and show.

He hoped that he could show him that even in pitch black darkness, there could be light- not just one, but multiple sources twinkling straight at anyone. They could surround him and envelope him.

He felt those flames trailed on his cheeks, leak as sparks into the air and he felt heat on his back. It was as if those flames had a will of their own, as they latched onto Tsunayoshi and the doll felt something foreign- like panic. It spread rapidly onto the brunette and wouldn't back down, even as the doll slapped the draped suit jacket rapidly over the burning figure.

Seeing that it was hopeless, he covered over the brunette to prevent the ash from drifting with the night breeze. his golden tears did not stop and he heard himself sobbing like something was escaping into thin air. He wanted to contain everything at that moment. He didn't want to lose anything.

The master he had seen for a week or so, was rapidly deteriorating and becoming something he couldn't recognize.

His throat felt painful and his vision blurred horribly, but he wished he could see this to the end. He wondered what could he have done to make this better. To prevent this from happening.

Dame-Tsuna had been so smaller.

He was the only witness to this, he thought as he sobbed and collected the ash into a jewelry box that he collected after draping the jacket over the remains.

His eyes glowed bright gold as he cried in grief

He'll inherit the other's will