"Normal."
Time passes but nothing had returned to what Nana would call "normal." Tsuna's very unsettled with his room, so much so that Nana had gone as far as to strip the carpet and put the body inside her shed outside for the time being. She even repaints the walls to hopefully get rid of anything that might remain.
The house was in a constant state of alarm, like threats were lurking in every dark corner, every empty room and with her new identity as a "cheating whore" had also lost her, her friends and stopped people from approaching her, with those who did treating her with nothing short of scorn.
The only saving grace to her life right now in an empty home with a cold bed and a meaningless wedding ring was Tsuyoshi. Bless the man. They had talked for about an hour his first visit – just catching up on what had been happening though there was a lot of filtering, on both sides she felt.
(Takeshi though, was an absolute darling.)
It was like she was driving herself mad with stress and loneliness, especially since she had isolated herself to just three people. She was so incredibly lonesome and so incredibly scared: people just didn't break in, go to a nursery and point a gun at a child – a baby, while talking about things like sin.
That particular thought refused to leave her: it spun, it circled and nagged.
Nana was missing something; something vitally important and she had no one to turn to.
Distantly she looked herself over in the mirror and stared distantly at her worn body: no longer having tight skin or a glowing completion from youth. Nana's eyes were drooping from lack of sleep with black shadows encircling them, and weak shoulders. Nana could just hear a voice reprimanding her: 'Pick up those shoulders gurl! The strength ya' show is the strength that ya 'ave.'
Turning away from the mirror Nana quickly finished washing her hands and after drying them, stumbled back to her bedroom that was still hidden in darkness from when she had, had the courage to turn off the light.
She sagged to the bed and flopped bonelessly into the softness of the mattress, hiding herself under her duvet.
Nuzzling her feather pillow she breathed the fresh scent of soap and baby powder which had frustrated tears spring fourth, like an animal smelling prey; her weakness betraying her as exhaustion played on her and made her body heavy and foreign, as she thought back to the words that continued to haunt her.
Vongola's.
Sin.
Cursed.
Forefathers.
And Iemitsu still hadn't gotten back to her.
Nana wasn't stupid. He was lying to her which she had put up with before but no longer: it had brought danger to her and her baby, which was what every inch of her intuition was telling her and she learnt long ago that her own truth was the only thing that didn't lie to her, or would want to hurt her.
Nana sniffed back the emotions and petulantly glared at the blaring face of her alarm clock. Not like she needed it anyway: she'd be up in a few hours because of a whole different type of cry, which was about the only thing that hadn't changed since the break in.
A shiver racked her thin frame despite the warmth of her blankets as her traitorous mind round back to…to the body parts. Disgust filled her and her stomach started to churn like a baking mixture that was starting to curdle.
It had been a horrid experience and Nana felt less human because of it, but she had come from a bad place and for once she was thankful – that it had managed to toughen her.
No one from before her little performance with the policeman would have guessed, how far she had crawled until her rescue.
She was born into a ruined marriage and a broken family in a dangerous area, where the only person she could count on not to screw her over was her spitfire of an Aunt, who didn't take crap from anyone but would protect her like it was her sole purpose for being.
Nao had been – and still was - the toughest woman Nana had ever met and despite her small physique she had, had piercing eyes which never settled and a sharp mouth with an even sharper tongue.
Aunt Nao had been her father's sister but had refused to leave her life even when he had. In fact, Nana's first memory was a knock at the door at around three in the evening and her mother, bottle in hand, swaying to answer it before Aunt Nao had budged through and introduced herself.
Aunt Nao had taught Nana hard life lessons that had helped her through difficult times, supported her schoolwork even when her mother wanted to pull her from her education and force her to the Strip, with other girls and women who sold more of themselves than just their bodies on that stretch of road, and would often get involved with the local Yakuza that was overrun in their area.
Her Aunt Nao had been the only security she had, had but that all came crashing down around her like a brick wall without any support, when she had been coming back from a particularly hard day of Upper-Middle School.
That day nothing had gone her way: her school lunch being stolen, tripped in the corridor and a new rumour had been added to the black marks next to her name, as someone to be treated with derision.
Nana had been dripping wet from the downpour because of her lack of coat when her eyes had caught sight of flashing lights, which illuminated the raindrops and reflected on the glassy stonewalls and pavements. The whole road had been blocked off with yellow tape and police cars - not an unfamiliar sight - but it made something in her chest clench, when she realised that it was right outside the apartments that her mother and she lived.
Nana remembered running clumsily up to the nearest officer, hysterical panic building inside her as she demanded to know what had happened. The officer's face had been grim, skin pale but eyes resigned as he looked at her. 'Shoot out. We 'ere think it be drugs. Live 'ere do ya?'
'Y-yes...sir.'
'Apartment?'
From there she had been taken to the station where a female officer – pretty but plain and called Masa, ('Masa, just call me Masa. Relax, you've done nothing wrong and it's been a big shock to you.') had then spent an hour or so asking questions about who Nana lived with, her back story and any other relatives she may have until Nana had been told she would have to sleep there, for the night.
Until now it had been the most uncomfortable night sleep Nana could remember with her thoughts wondering of the safety of her family, and the few friendly faces she knew. In the morning, half-past ten, she'd be taken by another less caring coper down to a building she had never been to before, but where she'd visit two more times in the future.
The mortuary.
It had been nothing like she had experienced before with its square shape and high windows which offered no light or comfort. The walls were whitewashed – clean to a disbelieving degree and the floor had been spotless, save for a number of scuff marks.
The smell was cold and harsh on her nose, however the long corridor allowed her time to get used to it as she was led to another large but seeming empty room.
A white jacket was waiting inside with a disgruntled expression that didn't shift when his eyes landed on her, and nodded briefly to the officer before turning around to behind him and after a moment, opened two separate compartments from inside the wall.
'Two minutes.' The White Jacket said.
Nana's legs had grown weighty but the hand on her shoulder carried her forward.
Two white sheets were dragged out of the stone and all Nana could do was stare at the sight before her, with an unsettling feeling as the White Jacket revealed one face after the other.
Nana had recognised both.
Her mother was the furthest from her but funnily enough, Nana's gaze was drawn to the form closet to her.
That of her Aunt.
Nao Tawaguichi had been killed in the cross fire.
If Nana concentrated enough she could still see her aunt's dark eyes and long hair, her small smiles and pierced ears and her soft hugs, in the rare moments she would allow them. Aunt Nao was kindness and guidance where her mother had been alcohol and ridicule.
Everything had gotten steadily worse from there. Worries about education became a thing of the past: high grades slipped and with no proper living arrangements, so did her tidiness to a point where the school board decided that Nana 'was no longer suitable' to continue there and her mother's "hopes" for her became a reality.
Her life had become more perilous from that moment on. Nana went with men that she knew would be somewhat safe, from the few other girls who would talk to her. It was a trying, scary time where she could feel was numbness and an apathy for life.
The first time was possibly the worst though one of the older working girls had helped Nana, by pointing out which of the cars would "treat her right." Ebony had been her name because of her black hair. And, unsurprisingly, she had been just as suggestive as they title she had given herself.
Her cliental were usually older men looking for something… "exotic".
In the end, it mattered little to Nana who had lost everything from her future, to her name. Ebony had been like a mentor though Nana would never have said that to her face: it wouldn't really have been a compliment but the lessons Ebony had given her, were probably what kept her alive until then – on streets, where it wasn't unusual for girls to just go "missing" and not return.
And if they did…they were never the same afterwards.
Nana had never told Iemitsu.
Tsuyoshi probably had most of it figured out from how he had found her, but she had never told anyone: it wasn't exactly something she took pride in. It was rather something she buried into the back of her mind so she didn't think on it often.
That is, until she had a body in her shed and had to wonder, since it wasn't from her past (the chances of anyone being able to trace her back to the Strip was unlikely, and anyone actually wanting to do so, even more so.) It would have to be from his background.
What haven't you told me, Iemitsu? Nana thought with bright eyes gazing at his side of the bed that he hadn't slept in…how long was it? Half a year? More? Probably more.
A bubbling cry interrupted her conversation and with little more than with an exhausted moan, Nana was up and carefully opening her door. She peeked her head out: checking that there was no one larking in the shadows. Once satisfied, she quietly walked down the hall, keeping a careful ear for anything more than Tsuna's crying.
She'd probably never feel safe again.
Nana knew she wasn't safe.
'Well now, who's hungry?' Nana asked once inside Tsuna's room and had flicked on the light. Tsuna raised his arms in demand and Nana chuckled as she drew closer. 'I suppose you'll have to do then.' She tried to smile as she undid her tight top and slip her breast out from the softness of her support bra.
Gently, she picked Tsuna up from his white crib, cradling him in her arms and getting him comfortable before going over to the rocking chair so she could relax while he fed. Nana guided his mouth with exceeding care and allowed him to latch onto her nipple, as she began to slowly rock as she hummed to fill the silence.
ForefathersthousandsthankfulbeableJuniorhumblebeginningsfewshortyearsyoursthegenerationworstbloodshedcursedcontinueVongolasin
ForefathersthousandsthankfulbeableJuniorhumblebeginningsfewshortyearsyoursthegenerationworstbloodshedcursedcontinueVongolasin
Nana closed her eyes, sucked in a deep breath –
And carried on.