Disclaimer: Nothing to own here except the plot.

PROLOGUE

~oOo~

Bruises. Bruises were everywhere on his body. Some were old and had already blurred into a darkish grey hue, others were recently made, glowing in that dirty redness and bluish tint to replace the ones that had long disappeared. His uniform was ragged and bits of thread were sticking out of the ripped openings as the chilly breeze slipped its way into it, making shivers on his discolored skin. His hair was sticky from the orange juice he was supposed to drink in lunch time, only to fall into the hands of his bullies who poured it on him at the pantry earlier. His bag was just as bad as him; damaged from the number of times it was kicked on, soaking wet inside and out along with his books and notebooks, and vandalized with some paint and deep markers passing on threats to him like it's an everyday activity. It wasn't a surprise to him, though. By this time, he was used to all of this that he made it part of his mundane existence, despite how bitter it made him feel throughout it.

Dusk was treading over every corner of the neighborhood until it had soon descended into the sheer darkness of the night, and, he reeked like a bag of shit. Not only was he battered until he looked unrecognizable, he was thrashed into a dumpster. This had been the third time and he had to wait for the janitor, whose schedule would usually throw new bin bags late at this hour, to help him get out since the bullies would weigh down a heavy trash can on the lid, refraining him from lifting it up himself. His entire form was wobbling from the impact of punches and kicks he had for the day, unable to walk like a normal person. Well, for others he wasn't even fit to that category. He is Dame-Tsuna, after all.

He came into the world by the name Tsunayoshi Sawada, Tsuna for an easier way to address him. He is personally a kind, gentle-hearted boy; fragile but strong-willed in every respect of his characteristic. However, with his inferior build, terrible grades, bad stamina, low self-esteem, broken family, aura to attract every one of his likely oppressors, he was entitled to that pathetic nickname ever since he was four years old. Probably before he was born, even. He had no definition of living for that matter, yet he stills goes on with the despicable life he was leading. Not complaining, nothing at all.

There was light emitting inside the Sawada Residence. Someone was still awake, and it's half past eleven o'clock in the evening, too. He didn't move for a while, fullly knowledgeable on who it was, dread filling his lungs as he blew a heavy sigh as it passed his dry lips. He pushed the gate open, set foot into the territory like a deer weary of any hunters, and paused at the doorway. He sighed once again, letting the tension slip but not all of it, and turned the knob as he slid in.

The bulb at the entrance blinked a couple of times, barely spreading enough of the artificial luminence it was manufactured to give. The rest of the household was dimmed with the occupance of pitch-black with a few shapes of the furniture thickly outlined by the eye's vision and the only part that was lighting aside from the front door was the dining room. Tsuna slinked towards his bedroom as he tried his best to stay quiet, until his carelessness caught him off guard when one of his feet created a squeaky sound on one of the floorboards he was stepping on.

"Tsuna, are you there?" The boy's face slowly waxed into a pale color at the voice from the other room. He wanted to run now, but it would make things harder and he was certainly not the kind to be disrespectful. So, he had to approach the person and announce his arrival, otherwise he'll never live again (which he doesn't seem to mind, though).

Peering at the open corner, he could see another figure by a long, veneer table. The individual was hiding its face flat on the table top, arms wrapped around its head as if he or she were drunk. Which was exactly the case. Beside the body was a glass half-empty of liquor, with some of the liquid spilled on the furnishing, dripping off the edges all the way to the ground. Next to it was a used ashtray, with the quantity of three to five cigarettes laid inside it with one of them still glowing, freshly removed from its handling. "I'm here... Mother."

His saw an indistinct flash, heard the loud breaking of a brittle substance, felt a horrible throbbing in his head, smelled the scent of rust and alcohol near his nose, and saw a drooling ichor at the corner of his right eye. He didn't move nor flinch at the act, but just looked down and stared at the remnants of the glass resting on the floor with a few drops of his blood chasing after them.

"Where were you, you brat?! Do you even realize what time it is?" His 'Mother' hissed. Tsuna was obviously aware about the time, he wasn't entirely stupid. But he wasn't, wait... never was given the right to even say anything and merely nodded in response.

"I'm sorry, Mother... I was - "

"Don't say anything unless I say so! Were you with your friends? Who am I kidding, you don't even have any! Were you taking in drugs? That must be it! You were dosing yourself with drugs just so you could escape? Hah! Don't make me laugh, you pig! If you hadn't arrived sooner or later, you would have been arrested by the police for staying behind curfew and then they would be calling me to pick you up at their office and ask me questions! Do you know how embarrassing that would be?! How stupid could you get?! You useless boy!" This time, she flung the solid ashtray at him, accurately hitting his forehead with specs of the ashes sucked into his nostrils. Tsuna whimpered at the stinging pain and gasped at the intrusion of the dirt that infiltrated his nostrils but held it in until she was over in throwing her tantrum, using his self as her reliever.

Nana Sawada, the woman who gave labor to him, the very person who brought him into this world, had lost her sanity and reasoning ever since his father, Iemitsu Sawada, had abandoned them a week after his fourth birthday. She used to be a very lovely and caring wife, but never a mother. It started out when he was a mere todler, not once had she picked him up or embraced him to show any simple affection. She would just ignore his presence, not making eye contact with him but only at her husband, the man she had fallen for. Only during get-togethers with friends and family visits, she would slide in a mask of innocence, and when no one was looking, would give Tsuna a look conveying disgust.

Now that the man had gone, she had finally lost herself and blamed every ounce of misfortune to the young child. It was much worse than before for she never tried abusing him that time. But now that no one is there to keep her attended to, it's different and much more like a living hell today.

Her eyes became a sore yellow, thin veins of red visible due to lack of sleep, dark circles formed underneath them, her body was thinner than usual, her breath smelled like smoke, the house is tumbling into a complete mess, bills are increasing tenfold, so many problems are happening, but she is more focused on the love she had lost ten years ago.

When she was done screaming and throwing anything she could at the hurting brunet, she had fallen back to her chair and broke down to a sob. "Why... why do you even exist...? If you were never born, my life wouldn't have become this miserable...! Why?!"

Tsuna watched her wailing and crying her heart out until he was sure that she cried herself to sleep. As soon as it was confirmed that she was unconscious, he carefully hooked her arm over his shoulder and helped her get to her room upstairs without stirring her awake. He gently laid his mother on the futon and undressed her from the dirty clothing which was now stained with blotches of the alcohol, and patted her clean with a wet towel before tucking her comfortably on her bed. He took one last look at her before he switched off her lights and closed the door.

Downstairs in the living room, he treated to his wounds with the first aid kit's equipment, noticing that he was running out of bandages and betadine or disinfectants. He'll need to find ways to get more of them soon. He lost the apetite to eat - not like his mother ever thought of cooking for him - and proceeded in washing the unclean dishes found on the sink, swept the pointy shards and dust away and every useless thing into the trash can. Afterwards, he sewed the holes on his uniform closed, not having any spare one for tomorrow, then washed them as well. There was no need for him to do his homework because it was already destroyed from the water it was drenched on, moreover, he doesn't understand a thing his teachers were saying and chose to get to bed as soon as possible.

He was exhausted day in and out, and this went on for a whole decade. No, he didn't complain, but remained quiet. He accepted this life but hated it to the very core of his damned soul. But, in spite of all the malice he has undergone, whether it was intentional or not, he still held on tight to a small hope.

"Maybe... It will be better tomorrow..." He whispered, his small voice laced with little faith but strong enough to keep him looking forward as he slowly surrendered to the darkness, dead to the cruel world awaiting for a proposal of change.

A/N: I just had to let this out. I had this exquisitely forceful urge to type this if I wanted to live the next day without any regrets. Not sure with the pairing and the title of this story yet. Depends on the upbringing of the moments. I'm still going to continue "Stop My Doubt", you know. This is something that needs to get off my chest so updates for this story will be sluggish. Ratings may go up, which is why I keep it on this rating.

Hope you felt something... I don't know... pain? Anger? Just smash on your keys as furious as you can to let me know. XD