CHAPTER 1

It Happens at the Wrong Times

You are not human.

You are a monster. You have the talons of an eagle and the teeth of a shark. No remorse nor conscience exists within you.

You are a demon. You have eyes that glow as bright as forest fires and a heart darker than black. It pumps tar through your veins.

You are a puppet. You were built and shaped by others. The very ties that you wish to sever are the only ones keeping you alive and in motion.

You are an assassin. You hide your weapons underneath a carefully created cloak of deception, killing precisely, unfeeling of the souls you take.

You are a psycho. Your mind is absolutely broken.

You are not human.

You are an experiment.


SLAM!

He jerks back in his seat, the source of the sound presented directly in front of him in the form of a rolled up lesson plan attached to an old man. The angry lines on the elder's face don't exactly help with the fact that he's a bit attractiveness impaired. Lips curl into a snarl.

"Sawada Tsunayoshi! Were you sleeping in class again?!"

The thirteen-year-old teen in question flinches at the shrill exclamation. He looks around and notices that everyone's eyes were on him, watching like it was some form of entertainment. It probably was. He fidgets a bit in his seat. There were a lot of eyes on him. Despite this, he turns back to the teacher, apologetic look on his face.

I can be human.

"S-Sorry sensei…" The apology sounds flat even to his ears, but it's the thought that counts, right? Though quite frankly, he really didn't like sleeping in class; hopefully some of that got through to the teacher.

Apparently not to this ugly sir because he proceeds to give a disgusted huff and slams the lesson plan on the poor brunet's desk again. Maybe his caramel brown eyes weren't as innocent as he thought they looked? He was always told - not always in the most ideal circumstances - that he had a baby face, all adorable and innocent-looking. Guess it just didn't work during the times he needed it to.

"'Sorry', 'sorry,' 'sorry' does not make things any better for you! You say it again and again but you don't ever do anything about it! No wonder people call you Dame-Tsuna. You are pathetic! No-good!"

Well you didn't have to say it so loud. My ears are fully functional y'know.

The teacher gives a final huff and spins around, going back to the front of the room, leaving the other students to jeer at the scolded teen. Someone even lobbed a paper wad in his direction, the crumpled ball getting stuck in the locks of his spiky, gravity-defying brown hair. He plucks it out and refrains from flicking it away in the event that the teacher would come back to rant at him for being a litterbug or something.

Why does he even expect me to listen? It's Math. Really, really basic Math that could be understood pretty easily if you just analyzed the statements and formulas. Numbers are static, definite, determinable. Boring, really, until they are given actual meaning or purpose.

Which is exactly what the teacher was not doing.

Tsuna lets out a long sigh and glances outside the window because a blue sky with the occasional puff of white and the school grounds he's had to look at day after day after day were far more interesting than trying to learn different mathematical formulas. He rolls his eyes.

Hours pass as easily as they would no matter where you'd look. It's just the same which ever way.

(Although this is much more preferable.)

And perhaps that is why people in such situations fall asleep. To escape to dreams. A more dynamic reality. Well really, it's just awfully boring to have to sit through so people fall asleep a lot, but Tsuna seriously wishes he could stop, even if the hours drag on longer.

Because a voice speaks to him in nightmares.


How many lives have you taken?

How many lives can you take?

How many lives will you take?

What kind of rotten creature are you?

You are not meant to live.


Tsuna jolts up in his seat.

"Sawada Tsunayoshi! Detention after school!"

Scratch that.

He absolutely hated sleeping in class.


The chair makes a terribly loud squeaking noise as it drags across the floor. Tsuna winces at the sound that echoes through the empty classroom. He only meant to move it the slightest bit but no he had to suffer the horrid sound of a scraping chair leg.

The teacher rubs at his ears a bit, scowling at his student. He frowns and motions for the young brunet to sit. Tsuna puts on what he hopes is an apologetic smile and sits himself down. The older man gives a huff, and directs his attention towards the papers on his desk.

An awkward silence hangs in the air, and Tsuna shifts awkwardly in his seat. A comfortable position was something his body really wanted, but not something he really felt was welcome at the time. He could feel his eyelids drooping down, his head getting heavy. Not that it was currently boring or anything, he just hasn't been getting a lot of sleep lately.

Despite the growing grogginess, he finds that things are coming into clarity. A speck of dust flies into his field of vision, and his eyes follow it easily. Beneath his fingertips the subtle grooves of the wooden table could be felt as plainly as he would a rock. It wasn't exactly a surprise that he managed to hear the scratching of pen on paper cease. He looks up at the teacher, who is looking right at him, actually showing a bit of concern in his eyes. Tsuna's head dips down again, shying away from his gaze.

"You know…"

The brunet jolts slightly in his seat. The scratching resumes. The teacher's eyes are on the papers.

"...you could sleep here if you want." His voice is soft and gentle, and actually sounds much nicer that way.

Tsuna raises a brow in confusion. "Sensei…?"

Eyes flick up, then back down again.

"I've looked over your test results. While you're not the best, you're actually doing fairly okay. Also, these bouts of sleep are rather recent." The pen halts. He looks back up.

"Sleeping problems?"

Tsuna wipes at his eyes.


You're different.


"Y-Yeah…"

"Well, that's understandable. I've had a lot of those back then." Okay so Ugly-sensei is actually a pretty good guy. Nice to know. "Still have them now. Kinda explains my short-temperedness, I guess." He gives a small huff, and shuffles the papers in front of him and puts them to the side. "Do you have the same nightmares when you sleep in class?"

The brunet is slightly nonplussed by the serenity in his voice, and pauses.

To have a conversation, or to not have a conversation? Eugh, interaction. Ah, screw it, I need to stay awake somehow. But… He rubs at his eyes, trying to wipe the sleepiness out of them. Do I have the same nightmares…?

"I can't remember any of them," he finally says, the response almost a murmur. The Math teacher raises a brow, and interlocks his own fingers on the desk as he leans forward slightly.

"Nothing?"

Screaming. A voice.

"No, not really." He flinches. That sounded too quickly delivered.

The elder looks troubled by this. "For how long have you been having nightmares?"

Tsuna thinks back to the first one.


Tsuna sits up in bed abruptly, breathing heavily and covered in sweat. His ears ring, and he panics as his vision refuses to clear out from the darkness. His hands clench, and he feels cotton sheets bundle up in his hand. It takes a moment for him to realize that he had just had a nightmare. He turns to his clock.

1: 39 AM

He runs a hand through his hair, trying to catch his breath. What he just had a nightmare about, he wasn't sure. However, one thing was definite.

He was running.


"... since last month. First week."

"And you've been having these terrors ever since?"

"Constantly."

The teacher leans back in his chair. "That must be terrible, huh. Being kept awake by something you don't know."

The reply is quiet. "You have no idea…"

The older man scratches at his head, and hums thoughtfully.

"Well, I'm not quite sure if it will work for you, but try to influence the dream while falling asleep. Think about how you'd want it to go," he says after a minute. "I've been trying it recently, and it helps, provided you don't pass out immediately after hitting the bed." He gives a huff under his breath, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

The brunet files that bit of info into 'Things I Should Try That Probably Don't Work So Don't Get Your Hopes Up.' He nods politely. "I'll try."

The elder smiles. "Hopefully, it'll work for you. Sleep is very important for teens your age." He tidies up his pile of papers.

"You can go now."

Tsuna rubs at his ears. Did he just hear that right? Nah, he was probably just really sleepy and hallucinating again. There was this one time where he was so sleepy he thought Captain America was in the room asking for help so he agreed to joining the Avengers…

"...Did you hear me Sawada-san?"

"Actually I think I misheard you sensei…" The brunet rubs at his ear lobes. "I thought you said I could go…"

"I did."

Tsuna is actually surprised at that. And… a little grateful he supposes. He stands up, and offers his teacher a soft smile, which actually manages to surprise the teacher a bit.

(He doesn't smile a lot. He never really has a reason to.)

"Thank you, sensei." He doesn't say it, but he is grateful for the talk as well.

The old teacher smiles, and his features soften a bit.

"You're welcome."

It's the little things that Tsuna lives for.


He doesn't look forward to them.

It means that something bad is coming his way.

Bad luck always seems to come his way, no matter what.

Whenever something good happens to him, there's always something that makes his day worse.

It's like you're cursed.


"Gh!" He crumples to the floor and wipes at his mouth. His hands come away stained red.

"Heh, looks like I hit you too hard, eh?" The thug towers over Tsuna's body, and before the young teen can recover, he delivers a sharp kick to his stomach. The brunet gives another grunt of pain, and rolls to his side. His hand reaches out trying to grasp something, anything, that could be used to defend himself. Fingers brush against cold metal, and he brings it up in front of his face. Just in time, he learns, as a solid thud reverberates through the alleyway, the sound of a fist colliding against a rusted metal bar.

The brute pulls his hand back yelping, and cradles his sore knuckles in his other hand. He growls a bit as he backs off. The alleyway seems to get darker, and just now does Tsuna realize that the other members of his little gang are closing in on him.

All at once, a barrage of punches and kicks are thrown at him. The brunet tries desperately to block as many of them as possible, but the weakened metal gives way, and soon all he has left in his hand is a short pipe, no longer than a foot, with a rugged tip where it broke off from the other section. He continues to try and hold them back, but with a stub of a pipe for protection, he can't do much. Eventually, his back hits the wall. Tsuna looks up and he's totally surrounded. A myriad of insults and taunts reach his ears.

"Look at that! Dame-Tsuna is tired already?"

"Damn, and here I thought he could take more than this..."

"He really is pathetic…"

(But he's long since been used to it. Used to the fact that his bad luck will get him in the worst situations. He's grown tired of that old routine. But he powers through it. Smiling gets him nowhere. He doesn't do that that much. Being nice just makes things worse. So he doesn't do that either. He doesn't react. He won't react. He'll stay quiet. Let them think what they want to think.)

(Let them remain blind.)

They continue to mock.

"Dame-Tsuna."

"What a curse."

"You are so weak. A real twerp."

"Well guys, how should we finish him, then?"


"How should we finish him then?"


It's an instant. A second. A blink of an eye. The mere act of nodding the head was enough time. Tsuna's sight starts to adjust. Everything comes in focus.

Crumples bodies. Open wounds. Fatal wounds. Throat, chest, stomach, neck. No sounds. Just breathing. Rapid breathing. Only one. Only one person breathing. Only one person standing up. Only one. Tsuna looked down at his hands. The rusted pipe. Jagged end. He screamed.

The alleyway ran red.


Tsuna jolts up in bed, a scream in his throat, a cry that never quite moves past his lips. His chest heaves up and down as his breath comes out in stutters. Immediately eyes dart down towards his hands.

Clean.

Blood.

Clean.

Blood.

The brunet rubs at his eyes and takes a fortifying breath. He looks again.

Clean.

He blinks.

Still clean.

Tsuna breathes a sigh and leans back. He feels the cotton sheets under his hands. The room is quite dark, but he immediately knows that he is at home. He runs his hands through his hair.

Breathe.

He buries his face in his hands. At home. Okay. So recap. Teacher dismissed me early. Went directly home. Went directly home. Went directly home. No incident whatsoever. Right. Right. Right. Right? Right. Right?

He scrambles out of bed and heads for the bathroom. The lights flick on and eyes skip over to the mirror over the sink. They roam over, searching his face for fresh, or faded bruises. He checks his arms, his hands, his body. Nothing. He then looks over the sink.

No marks.

No blood.

Once again, he breathes a sigh. Hands grip onto the sides of the sink, and he leans forward. His head dips down, and he gives a little huff.

The encounter with those thugs didn't happen.

He didn't wash their blood off of his hands.

Nothing happened.

Ah, but something did, didn't it?

Tsuna looks up into the mirror.

Orange eyes stare back into his.


Ciao. How is all

Sorry for the slow updating, but school just ended recently, thank the gods, and I've recently decided to rewrite the entirety of TPoE. Most likely, the old one will be abandoned, or I will update the chapters to be the same as the ones here. Anyway, this is a little test/teaser thing to see if it's alright. It's been a really long time since I've written anything for this site, so I hope that my recent improvements in writing are up to scrap!

ALSO BIG THANKS FOR MORE THAN 200 FOLLOWERS AND LIKE 199 FAVORITES ON THE ORIGINAL THE PRODUCT OF EXPERIMENTATION AS I AM TYPING THIS OUT. REALLY SURPRISED THAT I'M ENTERTAINING PEOPLE EVEN ON A YEAR-LONG HIATUS. HUGE THANKS. GRAZIE.

AND A HUGE THANK YOU TO Nina-Chan 202 FOR ACTUALLY MAKING FANART FOR TPOE. It should be her current profile pic, and I am just SUPER FLATTERED LIKE WOW SOMEONE MADE A THING BASED ON MY THING LIKE THAT IS AMAZING. If any of you make something for my fanfics, PLEASE send me a link a pic or whatever I don't care how terrible you think it looks just show me bec it's just wow why would you make something for my ff that is wow

Anyway, that's all I can think to say right now, for anything else, try checking out my profile, or just PM me. idk

As always, thanks for reading, favouriting, following, reviewing, whatever the heck you do rlly you are wonderful people go ahead and applaud for yourselves because you are amazing people like really I will climb through this screen if I have to and hug you to convince you like wow you people are wow

Until next time, arrivaderci~