A/N: this is the re upload of the first chapter and I've gone through to change a lot, it was my first ever story and I feel like my writing style had changed. I'm not satisfied with how the original was written so I've decided to redo it completely. It's highly likely my other fics will also receive a similar treatment.

Whilst I don't trust google translate I will have to lay my fic in it metaphorical hands and trust it, if you spot any mistakes please point them out alongside a new translation.

A/N V2: Right based on a -review? Message? I can't remember- ANYWAY I was told the whole translations at the bottom thing is annoying and I completely understand, it is. I've thought the same thing before, but I also really like different languages, so I'm compromising and putting translations directly beneath the line in the other language. BECAUSE WHY NOT. HAHAHAHAhahahaha… I'm surprised you don't all hate me for my lack of updates tbh.

IMPORTANT:

To all those that reviewed, oh god I can't believe you actually like my story. To 'Sadistcutey' and 'I-AM-A-SUPER-SADIST' especially (there is a theme going on with these usernames) you guys made me blush and giggle like a little girl. THANK YOU SOOOO MUCH! To everyone else as well, thank you sooooo much, your reviews encourage me to continue writing this fic. I love you guys, honestly. Xxx (9.4.17- I still smile at your reviews btw, it makes me so happy.)

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot. And even then it's a common fic cliché. But I wanted a go to.

"Italian" normal

'flashback' bold and underlined

'Thoughts' Italic and in apostrophes

I also use italics for emphasis, so be careful that it does have apostrophes.

Chapter1: Void

'Tsumetai… Tsumetai…'

('Cold… So cold…')

The dimly lit room housed only one occupant, the only lighting came from a crack in the stone above the small figures head. Rain pounded against the walls outside as water dripped into the cell below. Lightning flashed and illuminated the small figure chained to the ground. With a collar around a thin throat, he was forced to lay on the icy floor with a short chain attached to a rusted rung nailed into the rock floor. Mould creeped across the walls, a vile green that was the only colour in the dull grey hovel.

"Mama…"

The small voice was hoarse and distinctly unused, the small figure lifted its head. The young boys long hair splayed about him, coated in grime, dirt and grease. The once raven black hair now so covered in filth it appeared a muddy brown. No tears slipped down his filthy face, but old tracks underneath his dead eyes belied the fact he had cried recently.

"Doko ni ikimashita ka..?"

("Where did you go..?")

Everything hurt, not even the floor could numb his aches this time. The boy's head fell back to the floor with a dull thud and a rattle of chains. Why couldn't he be numb? What had he done to deserve this? Why did his mama leave him?

"Gomen'nasai…"

("I'm sorry…")

Oh kami-sama he would do anything to leave this place. How long had he been here? Days? Weeks? Months? Years? He would apologise for whatever slight he had committed against his mother, if she came to take him back. It didn't matter anymore that she had been a cold, vicious and neglectful woman to him, he would take that fate over this one at day. Surely if he was a good boy from now on, she would love him like all the other mothers loved their children?

"Naniwoshita katte..?"

("What did I do..?")

Only one eye could be seen from the boy, his other being covered by hair, he lifted his head and stared at the creeping rot in the corner of his cell, a skeleton of someone not much bigger than he was, lay limply in the corner. The body had been shoved haphazardly there when he had first taken up residence. Now all the was left were picked clean bones that shone like beacons in the light. Was that going to be his fate?

"Mama…"

Thunder rumbled in the distance, reminiscent of a lion's roar the boy had once heard when visiting the zoo with his parents, the last thing they did together before his papa had to leave to become a star. Or so his mama said. At least before she started drinking those weird smelling bottles. Sake his mama had called it, when she had demanded he go get her more.

"Anata wa watashi o nikumu ka..?"

("Do you hate me..?")

Sawada Tsunayoshi began to cry.

6 years later: Present time

Germany, Hamburg

22nd December 199X

As the small figure tiredly walked up the rusted metal steps, the chain dangling from his neck clanking with every move, as the moon hung dimly in the sky above. The collar around his thin neck was hidden underneath a long dark cloak. The hood covered more of his face than not but left his black hair free to see, it hung in front of his face and trailed down to his ankles in soft waves. The bottom of the cloak trailed along the floor behind him, leaving a path of blood which told where he had stepped. But this was a shady place to begin with and no questions were asked, the blood would be cleaned up later with no one the wiser.

He doggedly continued up the steps, until he reached a door with peeling paint and rusted numbers. He pulled out a ring of keys and proceeded to unlock five different locks on his door. As he went to pull the dirt coated handle down his intuition rang with a grave warning, forcing him to pull out a gun from the folds of his cloak.

He silently entered his apartment, the dark black carpet allowing him to move silently, not that he couldn't anyway; but it took less effort and everyone likes making less of an effort when they're tired. He crept down the short hallway, following his instinct's directions. As he silently entered the living room, praising everything that was holy that he had oiled the hinges just that morning, and hid in the shadowed corner as he steadily pointed his gun at the man, who was turned away from him, sitting on the back of his chair. The man soon took notice of all the killing intent aimed in his direction and turned to face the person behind him. Only to find a gun pointed at him from the shadows, but no indication of who was holding it, the shadows seemingly wrapped around the small figure to obscure him from view.

"Was machst du hier? Was willst du?" ("What are you doing here? What do you want?") Were the first words Tsuna spoke, mist flames altering his hoarse voice, to the strange man across from him, making him sound older. He still remained in the shadows, not wanting to reveal himself, or his age. For all the man could know right now he was a midget not a child. He needed to keep it that way as long as possible. The man finally decided to reply.

"Ich bin hier, um einen Deal, Junge." ("I'm here to make a deal, boy.")

Dammit there went his hope.

"Welche Art von Deal, alter Mann?" ("What kind of deal, old man?") He inquired, the fact this man had broken in just to make a deal was interesting and mildly creepy.

"Mein Name ist Checkerface, und ich bringe euch das Angebot Ihres Lebens."

("My name is Checkerface, and I bring you the offer of a lifetime.")

He hummed in thought, a deal of a lifetime huh? He smiled viciously, never removing himself from the shadows.

"Sie nennen mich, Verloren." ("They call me, Verloren.")

Tsunayoshi decided later, it all went downhill from there.

Italy, Trieste

4th January 199X

Specific Location: *CLASSIFIED*

Hidden away from the world in a dark room, Verloren watched as people began to gather. The room was rather large and grand, seeing as it was part of a mansion hidden away in the woods. The room had dim lighting, a long oak conference table and cushioned seats. There were no windows or other doors, one way in and one way out. In this shady room gathered the world's strongest men and women, Verloren was only 85% certain that Viper was a female though.

The most noticeable person in the room, as well as the last to arrive, was the stuntman skull, age 19. In a purple and black leather jumpsuit, he was the world's best stuntman, as well as being proficient in hand to hand combat as well. He was a sort of civilian cloud who had little to no idea about flames. He was not part of a famiglia or allied with one, he tended to frequent smuggling rings that dealt with motorcycle parts and the like though, so not completely clueless. Even though he acted like a clueless, cry baby, his eyes watched the exit at all times and shifted between those around him, never settling for more than a millisecond. The was something wrong with the way he held himself, as if he wasn't a civilian at all, he was too relaxed and steady, ready to spring up at any moment. No one else noticed. He had some investigating to do then, he had no use for faulty information.

In contrast, the first person to enter, bar Verloren himself of course, was the world's greatest hitman. Reborn, originally known as Renato Sinclair, aged 26. An Italian with an English ancestor, Sinclair wasn't an Italian name after all. At least that's what he thought. Reborn wore a dark suit, under which was a dark yellow shirt. The fedora that covered his hair matched the colours of the suit, black with a yellow band around the base. The only other colour on him was the green of his chameleon, Leon if Verloren remembered correctly. How creative, a chameleon named LEON. He was a world class hitman with an expensive price tag, each hit finished to the highest standards, quickly and quietly. Unless you made the mistake of double crossing him, there would be no proof at all linked to you. He was at the top of the food chain for a reason after all, a very powerful sun that only associated with those of a similar class. High standards, but Verloren supposed he could afford to have them.

The second to arrive was the world's strongest soldier, Lal Mirch, and her protégé, Collonello. Why the second one was there Verloren had no clue, maybe he had pestered his mentor into taking him along? It didn't matter either way, he had information in them both. Lal Mirch, age 25, a former member of COMSUBIN, where she had picked up Collonello, and now a member of Vongola's CEDEFF. She wore a beige cloak and dark blue cargo pants, along with a ripped maroon top. A highly skilled soldier with little to no patience for fools, she was a frightening woman who showed no mercy when she took command. A fairly good strategist who was well known for bringing back teams alive. She had high standards for those teams though and worked them to the bone to get them up to those same standards. Highly competent and ruthless, but fair. Perhaps, someone that would not be so quick to judge Verloren by his appearance or age.

Collonello, age 23, he wore camouflage cargo pants and a jacket, with a headband across his forehead, his bright blue eyes and golden hair didn't blend in quite as well. He was practically the opposite of his mentor, personality wise. He fooled around and was laid back even in stressful times. He listened to his heart rather than his mind, often resulting in him disobeying orders directly from the woman he seemed intent to woo. His interest in his mentor notwithstanding, he was competent with the rifle he carried, and could work out a decent plan if he tried. He was rash and quick to judge others however, someone who would take one look at Verloren before laughing and telling him to run home to his mother. He was simple minded and stubborn to a fault, liable to butt heads with Reborn often, he'd make sure to bring his camera and popcorn. Blackmail was always useful, and he was sure the competitions would turn ridiculous at some point.

Next to arrive was the Esper, Viper. Age was somewhere between 23 and 27, and not a lot was known about the mysterious woman, who wore a long dark cloak with indigo stripes on her cheeks. Verloren was still only 85% certain Viper was female, not even personal observations helped him decide on a gender. A highly respected mist user, but with a high price tag attached. She is the world's best illusionist, who dabbled in blackmail and information brokering. Her network wasn't quite as good as his, but it wasn't her main profession, so he would let that slide. She always thoroughly checked any information she received and never lied to a buyer. She was a miser at heart, always counting her money obsessively, never spending more than she deemed necessary. Verloren supposed that if she ever found anything on him he could pay her to eliminate the source and keep her mouth shut. That was an upside at least.

After her came the next coming of Leonardo Da Vinci, Verde. At age 24, he was a certified genius, who took part in any form of research bar one. He never took part in human experimentation, especially not on innocents or children. He had a rather strong set of morals when it came to the underworld and children. Verloren could respect that at least. With a white lab coat, and a green shirt, it was easy to make out which element his was. What was with the world's strongest and either wearing or having their flame colour on them? Whatever. Verde was a strong lightning with few morals and a sense of curiosity; he researched flames the most often but never published any findings, so it was hard to tell what he had found. There was no doubt he had found something, he was the world's best scientist after all.

Last before skull was Fēng, from the triads. More commonly known as Fon now however, the 22 year old was the world's strongest martial artist. He wore a long red robe with cream pants and black pumps, the red again making it obvious what flames he used. With storm flames one would normally expect a volatile person; however Fon had worked hard to be the eye of the storm so to speak, and rarely lost his cool. He was a peaceful man who could sit down to tea with you and imagine thousands of different ways he could kill you without so much as a twitch. He was a highly experienced assassin and never judged a book by its cover. If anyone took Verloren seriously it would be Fon. With his calm demeanour he would likely be the negotiator of the group, between Collonello and Reborn, as well as anyone else who thought to rile them up.

Verloren still stuck to the shadows and watched as these men and women mingled and clashed. It was a sight to behold, the world's best all in one room, yet none of them had noticed him at all. Had they truly dismissed the thought that anyone would be able to hide from them, where they that arrogant? He hoped not, or it would be their downfall. It was likely he would have to work in a team with these people; they had better not get him killed with their arrogance. If they had any that was. Maybe he had hidden his presence too well? After all, Fon didn't look to be the type for arrogance. Reborn on the other hand…

As they took their seats, Verloren chose to remain standing, wanting to watch a little longer to see how things would pan out, with them not knowing he was there. Silence reigned until one of them chose to break it.

"Honestly, how long am I going to be made to wait? I don't have all the time in the world." Reborn spoke, creating a new round of muttering from his companions, as they discussed where the last member could be.

"The great Skull, will not be made to wait a second longer! I decree we start without them!" Skull added, much to the grumbling of those around him. "Lackey" and "shut up" we're common among said mutterings. Verloren had to stifle a sigh as he watched the people he would be made to interact with in the near future. Could he back out? Please? He didn't know if he could cope with this.

As the talking died down again, the television flickered to life on the wall. The room was bathed in a white glow as the visage of checkerface showed itself. "Now, that I suppose you're all here and quiet, we'll begin!" He started with, only to be interrupted by Collonello.

"What do you mean all here? We're missing one! Kora!" He yelled, and by God was he loud. Verloren prayed there was a volume dial, if not he was investing in sound cancelling headphones. "Ah, Ah! The person you're looking for was the first to arrive, even before Reborn!" He replied cheerfully, not at all thrown by the sudden interruption. Those at the table blinked in confusion and incomprehension, not understanding how they had missed someone.

Verloren sighed out loud this time, attracting their attention to his shadowed corner, before speaking. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance, you may call me Verloren." Was all he said, he never removed himself from the comforting embrace of the dark or so much as twitched at all. He stayed perfectly still as he waited for his presence to sink in. The first to react was in fact Skull, albeit it wasn't very graceful. Flailing, screaming "HOLY SHIT!" and falling from his chair, it was perhaps the best reaction Verloren could hope for. There was something off though, he had twitched to do something before hesitating, as if his first instinctual response had been repressed. Verloren's bright orange eyes narrowed behind his hair, he definitely needed to investigate.

Verde choked on his coffee, whilst Reborn cracked the arms of his chair. Lal mirch reached for her weapon, muttering profanities, whilst her student began to flail and scream denial. Viper held no outward reaction other than a minute flinch. Fon hummed in astonishment, moving his sleeve to cover his mouth as both his eyebrows rose to his hairline. "You sound like a child." He commented simply, as if he were discussing a turn in the weather, a rather sudden and unexpected turn in the weather, but the weather none the less. Verloren simply hummed back, before answering "Maybe I am a child."

Predictably, all hell broke loose.

Verde who had only just calmed down, screamed in outrage that a child should not be involved. Reborn's armrests were not spared at all as splinters and dust fell to the floor, a dark look on his face. Skull, who remained on the floor, froze uncharacteristically and stared at him in horror and something he could not define, as anything other than a mix of guilt and hatred. Fon froze, the calm smile on his lips freezing, before morphing into something akin to a shark, or shattered glass perhaps. Deceptively dull edges, falsely pretty and benign, something to draw his enemies in. Yes shattered glass was a better description. Viper hid her money before grabbing a drink to chuck at the television. Lal mirch halted all movement and stared at him before slumping down into her chair, Collonello acting similarly, in which he froze and collapsed as his legs gave way.

How Dramatic. Yes, it deserved a capital letter.

Reborn was the first to speak again, the rest watching him almost distractedly as the tea dripped down the television behind them, each drop as it hit the floor all but thundering in their ears. "Are you sure you're supposed to be here boy? Maybe you got lost?" He spoke, most of the others latching onto his words like a lifeline, apart from Fon or Verde who frowned at their denial. Verloren huffed in exasperation, before pulling out the map he had been given along with the clear pacifier. "See, I'm not lost. I was invited the same as all of you. My name is not boy by the way; it's Verloren." He replied whilst waving said items in the others general direction.

"But no one, especially not a child, could hide their presence from all of us! Kora!" Collonello interrupted again, breaking the harsh silence that had descended over them. Checkerface sighed from the TV before reassuring them "No, No. Verloren is right, I invited him. Get along now children, you'll be living together after all. Tata~" and just like that he was gone, the TV turning black and the room's shadows stretching across the walls with no light left to hinder them. Verloren left for his room before any of the, could comment.

He listened to the outraged screams from down the hall.

'Watashi wa horyo ni sa renai!'

('I will not be kept prisoner!')

.

.

.

"Shinu…"

("Die…")

Verloren is German for Lost