Disclaimer: Katekyo Hitman Reborn! © Akira Amano

Synopsis: Chrome had no desire to live at least not until Mukuro and Tsuna. Jalecia on the other hand had no desire to die. So she inherited the body of the girl who had a desire to die so that she could exercise her desire to live.

Story Type: Hitman Reborn! AU!

Vocab: Koban wa = Good Evening

Oneesan = Big sister

Sayonara = Goodbye

Ohayo =Good Morning

Arigatō = Thank you

baka na onna = stupid girl/woman

Chapter 4

The World I became accustomed to

For once in my life I survived on the generosity of others. I was huddled on the corner of the narrowest alley when I was found by my saviour. It was a child no older than seven and untainted by the evils of the world. I sat with my knees drawn to chest and filth clung to me like a second skin. The child strode forward. From where I sat I could see the curiosity shining through his eyes. Kneeling down he whispered in a lilting voice, "Konban wa, oneesan."

I stared dully at the child. Then I repeated carefully the words that he had whispered at me. The child tilted his head and purposefully he repeated his sentence. Though I noted that he repeated his sentence slowly then he stared at me. Waiting, eyes bright so I repeated after him. He corrected me when I uttered the wrong syllable. He smiled happily at my ability to say a single phrase and beamed with pride at the fact he taught it to me. Suddenly he rose from his position and called, "sayonara" as he ran out of the alleyway.

I slinked back into the darkness of the alley. Closing my eyes and drifting off into an uncomfortable sleep. My dreams did not take me back to that meadow. To the wonderful reprieve in my mind but sometimes I felt it. That power. It shifted and churned like unending storm within my mind. When I tried to grasp it, it slipped from my reach. It extended outward uncoiling and slithering away as though it had a mind of its own. Yet I never stopped trying to grasp it. My inability to touch it, to control it only fuelled my frustration and my dreams became even more chaotic as time progressed.

Almost a week passed before the child reappeared. This time he came burdened weighed down by knapsack that he had strapped across his back. His eyes roamed the alley before settling on me. He dropped the bag and said – more confidently than last time- "Ohayo neesan."

Blandly I slowly reiterated his words. Softly I said, "Ohayo." The child beamed. Then with much enthusiasm he dug through his bag. Pulling out children books and handing them to me. Then he settled beside me, opening the first book and reading it softly and slowly to me. As he did this my mind drifted back to my childhood. I remembered my grandfather's friend bring a lady who only spoke Spanish to our house. We – my cousin and I- provided the basics. When she came we sat with her and read together helping her sound out the words from my children books such as At the Sea.

The child was doing the same. He even pointed at the words as he read them. For that I was thankful. Also he never ventured farther than the chapter. He read it through with me repeating after every word. Then he read it. To show how syllables interacted with each other and then he made me read it. Every chapter ended with me reading by myself. And I was never allowed to move on until I read it with the least amount of mistakes. This continued for a week. Every time he left he pointed to the next book in the collection that he left with me. It was expected that I would read and familiarise myself with the content. Then when he returned I had to read the book to him. He would then correct my mistakes before moving on.

The child became a welcomed reprieve as did the snacks he occasionally brought and left which elevated my hunger somewhat. I smiled gently as the child ran towards me at the end of week.

"Akira" the child blinked up at me from the book we shared in his hands. "Arigatō."

"Ile, thank you oneesan." Akira murmured shyly.

As night rolled in Akira packed up his bag and ran off calling out "goodbye" as he left. I settled in for a restless night. My dreams did not endlessly shift as they did before for a moment the power that wrecked turmoil in my subconscious. It had settled in the pit of my stomach. It still acted as water slipping through my fingers as I tried to grab it. Distinctly as I woke I smelt the faint scent of lotus blossoms and a nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach.

I awoke with a gift. I awoke in a park, on a bench with an iron trident lying beside me. I blinked dully and surveyed my surroundings. I then drew my knees to my chest. The wind battered on my thin frame. Curling my fingers around the trident I brought to eye level to examine it. Curious as to how I got it. Though my curiosity did not last long as it seemed the trident was the precursor to what was to come.

"Tch, kakki-pi! Where is the baka na onna!" a voice yelled.

Two boys stepped into view. One was blonde and the other had his hair covered by a beanie. The blonde one had a scar stretched across his face, from check to check and a scowl that looked permanently etched onto his face. It was his loud exclamation that dragged my attention from the trident in my hands. His companion only sighed and ignored him. His attention was diverted. He surveyed his surroundings with an apathetic look on his face.

Fear crawled up my spine when his eyes landed on me. I gripped the trident with all the strength I could muster. Praying for all I was worth for him not to come in my direction or to me. Turning ever so slightly to the blonde he said, "Ken."

"Eh? Kakki-pi?" the blonde, Ken, questioned before his eyes fell on me.

Then his nose wrinkled in disgust as he stomped over. Stopping shortly, just in front of me he glared. I shrunk back. The boy sniffed me and growled. He turned back to his companion and began to rant. Honestly he was talking too fast for me to translate. Though I figured that between calling me baka na onna and the rigorous finger jabbing in my direction he did not approve of my presence.

The one with the beanie simply ignored him and motioned for me to follow. I hesitated. The boy pointed to himself and said, "Chikusa Kakimoto."

"Nagi." I whispered.

Chikusa nodded and muttered a single name, "Mukuro-sama."

It was my turn to nod and smile gently. Ken shoved me to the side and began shouting at Chikusa. Out of the garbled mess of words yelled I picked a few that I understood.

"Useless… Mukuro-sama…leave…" and that phrase. The one I realised would hate from now on. Baka na Onna. It was my turn to scowl. Gritting my teeth I glared at the boy. I felt my stomach churn and the contents boil. And for once I was in control; for once I could effortlessly mould the power within me. And I pushed. Like an elastic band it snapped and I felt bleed through my pores and explode off my skin. And the last thing I saw before my body shut down completely where thick green vines and white pink tipped lotus blossoms.