And I Wished for the Sky to be Clear Again
Disclaimer: I do not own KHR nor any of its characters except my own.
Tsuna wondered why the world couldn't just end right as he closed the compact coffin of the last living relative he had left. Mama was dead now, no thanks to his Papa that seemed to have disappeared off the face of the Earth aeons ago. Thinking of it, he barely even remembered the man's face, and if he bothered, only the soft scent of iron and guilt could jog his memory.
The brunet slumped his back against the wooden box that held his mother's ashes. he slid down slowly, sitting against it with barely a noise. Like some sad, tear-jerk movie, it had been raining when Sawada Iemitsu left, Tsuna's mother was inconsolable for months afterwards.
Kami-sama knew, it hadn't even been that bad until the blasted day his father's boss came to visit. At the time, Nana still knew how to smile from the thought of her husband returning every once in a while but after that day, the housewife had somehow known that the cards in the deck had changed. Nothing would be the same anymore and she grieved with Tsuna by her side.
('Tsu-kun? Don't be sad, okay? Papa has simply gone off to become a star!" Tsuna snorted at the memory, a fist grasping at the fabric of his shirt like a lifeline. Sullenly, he thought to himself, that at this rate, it wouldn't be long before the entire Sawada family became stars.)
They'd waited year after year, stretching the limit of how long a person could be marked missing before they were legally declared dead. Mama hadn't actually reported him, both knew it'd be a pointless attempt.
Nevertheless, almost a decade had gone by and the once-young woman clinging by the name of Sawada possessed hollow cheeks as she held her son's hand and told him to be good. A young Tsuna stood by the door after every painful day of school, waiting for the return of his Mama's return after she'd gone out to find yet another job on top of her two other part-times.
Sawada Nana. Age 42. Death by overwork.
Who could've guessed that the happy-go-luck housewife would end like this?
Perhaps in another decade, if Tsuna would outgrow the Dame-ness people claimed he had, he could've had the time to laugh sardonically as he sat in a house called home; the TV would be turned on and he'd quietly reminisce on the 'old days' where life was tough but not terrible. Gritting his teeth as tears tracked down his face, paying silent respects to one Sawada Nana because before Nana was a waitress, cashier and single-mother, she was his Mama, his home, his everything.
He'd have time to do all that.
Maybe Mochida Kensuke's brother had a point when he reached out to the night's sky to catch stars despite the wisps of clouds drifting by making it nigh impossible. He was sad and eighteen but Tsuna adored him anyway. Gripping Ryosuke's shirt as he told the young impressionable brunet how he loved the rattle of adrenaline that seemed to enter his bones as he punched a man that called him a bastard.
He didn't ask to be born of a night's shameful mistake, but what's to be done? Ryosuke smiled as he ruffled Tsuna's hair, "I'd give up the night sky y'know? Don't need to catch its stars or watch the clouds or taste the rain." Just for another chance in life where he could punch the man once more without getting caught.
As it was, he was stuck in the confines of his room. He didn't beat up just one person, but accidently sacked a Hibari officer while he was drowning in a fit of angry impulse as they wrangled him to a polished cell. Ryosuke was under surveillance now, and his parents were afraid of the things it did to the reputation of their Dojo.
Little Tsuna thought it was horribly cool to manage a hit on a Hibari, nothing could change his impressionable mind otherwise. It was then, a tiny seed of inspiration sprouted within his blessed little heart.
Nana slowly grew concerned when Tsuna came back littered with cuts and bruises whenever he came home from school. According to the mothers of the children he had a spat with, their mothers told Nana that Tsuna deserved every single wound he got because theirsons called him Dame.
He was fixing his problems with violence, Nana realised; even though he wasn't winning. Nana wanted to tell Tsuna to stop, to end this vicious cycle, but she couldn't. Not when her son looked like an ironically bloody sun as he put ointment on yet another cut. As though the scars that would paint his skin a pale pink were trophies to be carried with pride.
She wouldn't ruin this for him, not when she could offer him nothing else.
/
Tsuna sighed, head dropped sullenly as he shifted to kneel before his mother's ashes. As of now, he was bound to the foster system, or an orphanage, he spat internally. Now, Tsuna had nothing against the intended function of the system, they supposedly meant well, but something in his gut told Tsuna that anything close to either of it would simply result in a lot of pain.
Because what if they treated him badly? What if they had some pathetic excuse of a hierarchy where Tsuna failed to settle in because he liked to break the nose of almost every kid that questioned his intelligence. Tsuna was not Dame. Not if he knew how to break an arm or leg or nose quicker than saying 'Dame-Tsuna'.
He wasn't weak anymore, even if he may've lost one or two or ten battles every once in a while when the Yakuza came to make their rounds and used him as a voluntarily errand boy (punching bag) for cash (the rare moments when they did give him any), but that was beside the point.
Tsuna would pick his fights because he could and not because he could win and that was all that mattered nowadays. Especially with his Mama gone, the brunet sighed as he pulled at his fluffy hair. How's he going to pay for the bills or the funeral or for anything now?
The funeral was a quiet thing when it lasted. It took place near a deserted shrine a good 45 minutes away from where their hovel was. Sawada Nana was not a religious woman, but ever since the ever permanent flow of cash and presence of her husband, she turned to any kind of Kami often enough.
Tsuna hoped she met whoever his mother worshipped, she deserved to have that at the very least. He hoped that the Gods and Goddesses would be kind because the world didn't offer that privilege to their family long enough.
Despite being on the unfortunate end of a headache, the brunet tried to distract himself by attempting to harvest a grief he didn't really want to feel. Make no mistake, he loved the easily loveable woman known as Sawada Nana despite her slight shortcomings and mourned her death, but let the dead lie, the living still had to walk and talk and function as usual.
With that snap of bitterness, Tsuna suddenly, though not without good reason, yearned to have someone introduce his soft features with a grimy alley wall. A pulse of disgust wretched itself from his gut because how could he be so terrible ('Practical.' Another part of him whispered. Someone punch him, please. The yakuza nii-sans, preferably. The Hibari's had instilled the fear of their name- not Kami's- thoroughly.) Tsuna felt this close to throwing up all over the dull yellow chrysanthemums.
A lady in a formal suit approached him before the endeavour. Tsuna glanced upwards to the intruder upon a very private moment, eyes flashing a distinct molten gold. He didn't miss the way the woman's eyes widened ever so slightly against her stoic expression.
"Sawada Tsunayoshi. Son of Sawada Nana and Sawada Iemitsu. Born on the fourteenth of October and as of the year 2000, you are ten years of age." She stated with neither warmth nor coldness.
The brunet nodded, head tilted in sombre question.
Somewhat curious, Tsuna observed her dark hair tied in a high ponytail all the way to her well-manicured fingernails as she dug through the large handbag hung on her shoulder. She didn't look Japanese, Tsuna noted. A manila envelope was pulled out shortly, the brunet took it cautiously with a sceptical narrow of his large doe eyes as she handed it to him.
Inside the accursed thing, were private details of his and his mother's life throughout the years. Tsuna held in a startled whimper as he traced a finger against a picture of his mom and he sitting by the dining table. The Tsuna in the image has a palate of bruises spread throughout his skin like a bucket of spilt paint on a blank canvas. An expression of mixed fear and accomplishment on his face.
There were greens, yellows, and beaded purples. Mama was crying as she tended any bleeding injuries; most notably were the blooming stages of a painful bruise on Tsuna's neck. He remembered being 8 during this particular moment. Returning back home after a pathetic attempt of becoming strong. The boy had stumbled upon Yakuza like a beacon of light for trouble.
To say the least, the man wasn't very kind to the excitably fight-seeking boy. Nana thanked her lucky stars they hadn't simply kidnapped her Tsu-kun and sold him wherever the sun didn't shine.
Tsuna had a good talk with his mother about his latest conquest of becoming strong that day. The fact that they even had pictures of it from what appeared to be taken from within their own home had Tsuna feeling mind-numbingly violated.
"Who are you?! What do you want?!" He barked defensively. "Are you Mafia? Yakuza? One of the Triads? I don't have anything, okay! So go away!"
For the second time that gloomy day, the women looked visibly shocked. "Y-you know about the Mafia?" She managed relatively steadily. "How did you find out?"
Tsuna's gut told him stay quiet even as anger crawled beneath the surface of his skin with the bubbling of boiled acid. He obeyed it, just to drink in the emotion of frustration that crossed the woman's face. She clicked her tongue, whatever pretence of politeness gone.
"Okay, kid." She said condescendingly, "I'm here to make a deal. It's in your best interests as well, considering you have nothing or will have nothing. No Family, no money, and pretty soon you'll have no roof above your head in due time. We can provide you these things. All you need to do is sign some papers and follow me."
Tsuna grit his teeth, grinding them wearily. He was aware of his powerless ness but it had never been so apparent till this very moment. It didn't take a genius and some logical guesswork to know that the lady- whoever she was- in her expensive suit and commanding tone that he'd probably be dragged off even if he said no.
"And what if I don't agree?" Tsuna treaded carefully.
"You have no choice either way. We have the resources and influence to pick you off any orphanage or street if you do try to run. Make it quick, sign your name at the bottom left of the last sheet of paper in the file."
Internally screaming, Tsuna took off the pen clipped on the file with undisguised frustration and swung it towards the floor with a resounding 'snap!'
"Why don't you just outright kidnap me, huh? Besides, no document can legally bind me since I'm too young anyway. Kami, I bet if you're gonna do anything less than human experimentation on me I'll bite my own tongue off and swallow it. You look very evil, nee-san."
The woman smiled. Not the good kind either.
"How crass," She drawled. "Welcome to the Estraneo Famiglia, Sawada Tsunayoshi." And Tsuna knew nothing but darkness as bitter indigo flames swept him to a new level of hell.