TAGS: Canon Compliant, POV Third Person Limited

Implied/Referenced Bullying, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Worth Issues, Light Angst, Angst and Feels

Healing, Bonding, Fluff, Introspection, Minor or Background Sawada Tsunayoshi & Reborn, Minor or Background Sawada Tsunayoshi & Vongola Tenth Generation Guardians

WARNING: Not Beta Read


Inspired by this writing prompt: "You have a secret power, you can see colors around people that tell what they feel about you. Gold for love, red for hate, blue for sadness, etc. You make eye contact with a stranger while walking, and for the first time you see the color black."


Tsuna can't see his own color. No, it's probably he doesn't have any color to begin with, and that's why he can't see it, right? He can see everyone else's color after all, always could for as long as he can remember.

Tsuna stands in front of mirrors, and stands and looks and looks, trying to catch a glimpse of any color at all, but Tsuna can't see his own color.

[Of course Tsuna can't, of course he doesn't have any color at all. He's No-Good Tsuna for a reason. That was just to be expected, and so it doesn't surprise him.

But it still hurts to not be able to see bright and pretty colors of his own, to see them coming from him too, saddens him, but the hurt and sadness have already become all too familiar, and his eyes stay dry.]


Tsuna watches his mom's bright and wide smile falls from her face, the excited light dimming in her eyes, and his heart clenches. His dad will come home soon, she told him happily, but Tsuna didn't return any of her happiness.

"I don't really care," he heard himself say instead, shrugging, and has to take his words back because his mom keeps looking at him like that.

Like he did something wrong. And Tsuna knows he didn't, because his dad—who even is he, really?

Tsuna likes him well enough, he guesses, and doesn't mind when he's home either, but it's mostly because his mom loves him a lot. His dad is a bright, bright and shiny yellow—gold, that particular shade of yellow is called, his mom told him—like his mom, a yellow so big it always takes all the space in a room and more, but he doesn't come home often and doesn't stay long when he does, and Tsuna doesn't really know him. Tsuna doesn't think his dad really knows him either.

"Don't say that, Tsu-kun," his mom says, trying to make herself smile again. "Your dad cares about you, loves you so much."

"How do you know?" Tsuna asks, cutting off whatever else she was about to say.

His mom falters again, then crouches in front of him, her hands intertwined a bit tight. "How do I… Tsu-kun—"

"He doesn't care about you," Tsuna says stubbornly, angrily, because that's really what upsets him when it comes to his dad.

His mom loves him a lot, and his dad seems to love her just as much when he's there, but he isn't there often. He doesn't stay long either when he is, and doesn't even call a lot when he's away. It makes his mom sad even if she tries to hide it from him, but Tsuna's seen it, and he doesn't like anyone making his mom sad, even if it's his dad.

His mom's face falls, and Tsuna's stomach twists. She digs her fingers into the back of her hands until her knuckles turn white, pursing her lips, and Tsuna's eyes immediately well up with tears.

He doesn't think he's ever hurt his mom like this before, and if he did, never that much. He instantly wants to make it better, and if he was older he'd have been able to say he didn't mean that his dad didn't love her, that he knew he did, but he just didn't like how he wasn't showing it as often and as much as he knows other dads do, didn't like how it makes her sad he didn't. But all he can think of saying now is "sorry", the word having made it past the lump in his throat to push against his lips.

Tsuna doesn't say it, and it's not just because of the lump in his throat. Tsuna doesn't say it because he doesn't think he said anything wrong, didn't say anything he didn't mean at the very least, and he doesn't want to lie to his mom.

His mom says nothing, just watches him with sad and hurt eyes, and Tsuna widens his eyes when deep purple like the bruises he gets at school blooms within her gold, almost taking over it entirely.

Oh.

The colors are about him.


[It's not hard to guess the meaning of the colors after that, so it's a relief when a couple of days later his mom becomes only gold again, and just as bright and big as before.

Gold is love, and apart from his mom and dad he can't find it anywhere else, doesn't see it from anyone else.

It's such a relief when his mom becomes only gold again, Tsuna bursts into tears.]


The people around Tsuna are mostly the white and grey of indifference and the barest of neutral familiarity, of strangers and acquaintances in its most distant definition; the green of judgment and superiority, of mocking laughter and cruel words and amused eyes in the face of his pain; and the orange and red of control and disdain, aggression and cruelty, of bruises and blood and pain.

Some of them are even the deep grey veering to black of almost hate, not quite but almost, of animosity and hostility.

[Tsuna hates and despises and is hurt by all those colors, every shade of them, wishes they could just be all white and grey and just let him be, but nothing makes him more angry than the almost black. It makes his blood boil, a searing heat inside him burning and almost bursting out of him, makes him choke on the screams and words caught in his throat, on the sheer unfairness blinding him, and it's all taste like bitterness and blood.

How dare they be so displeased by his mere existence to the point of coming close to hate it? What did he ever even do to them but daring to exist? Do they even know him to feel so strongly about him when they saw to it to shape him into the only thing they'd allow him to be before he could even get to know himself?

How dare they, how dare they, how dare they

But Tsuna's place in the world has already been beaten into him more times than he could keep count off, and he lowers his head, looking down, making himself as small as he can in the hopes of escaping their notice a little while longer.]

Then there's the gold of love from his parents and the pink of kindness from Sasagawa Kyoko, breaths of fresh air in between being made to continuously drown, hands trying to pull him up when others—so many others keep him under. It's not enough, is nowhere near enough, but No-Good Tsuna doesn't get to ask more than what he already has and is given, no matter how so much more he wants.

No-Good Tsuna also knows the fact he even has that at all may be all the mercy he'll ever be shown, and so he makes it be enough.


[It still isn't.]


Reborn appears in his life like a hurricane, turning everything upside down, throwing out of the window everything Tsuna thought he knew and was certain was the truth. He's a shade of turquoise Tsuna's never seen before, all-encompassing and powerful, blinding in its intensity, and it almost knocks him off his feet.

"I'm here to make you a mafia boss," Reborn says, and then doesn't laugh, doesn't take back his words. He doesn't turn them hurtful either, the idea of him ever becoming something like a mafia boss, merely stands by his words, his eyes dead serious as they keep piercing into him.

Ambition.

Reborn's the turquoise of unyielding ambition, because he was sent here to do a job and has no intention to fail at it, does not believe for a second he'll fail at it, never mind it's him he's supposed to turn into a mafia boss.

It's not faith in him, of course, but it's still more faith than anyone has ever had about him, and a small smile pulls at Tsuna's lips.

It hurts and cuts him and makes him bleed, but Tsuna doesn't remember being able to smile any other way anyway.


Reborn kills him. Really kills him, shooting him in the head, a flash of white-hot pain exploding in his head that seems to last both for a second and an eternity.

Tsuna dies.

Tsuna burns to life again, tearing through his dead body as he comes back to life, as he's born anew again.

It's the most vivid five minutes of his life, colors so bright and the world so tangible, people so stark and so full of life. Everything so alive, and nothing more than Tsuna himself, his blood rushing through his veins and his every cell lit on fire, his heart beating, beating, beating.

Five minutes later, Tsuna dies again. He doesn't, not literally, not physically either, but not all lives can be called living, he would know.

"This bullet is the Dying Will bullet," Reborn tells him, showing the bullet to him. "A person that is shot with the bullet will resurrect with Dying Will after dying." Then later, "Dying Will means your body is in a state wherein all safety switches are off. So in exchange for risking your life by breaking your limits, you can harness amazing strengths."

"I get it," Tsuna blurts out, hitting his palm with his fist, "that's potential strength!" But then he stills, his smile slipping off his face.

"What is it?" Reborn asks.

For one Tsuna obviously doesn't actually get it, have never even heard of Dying Will bullets before. It's not hard to believe though, not when he remembers walking off things during those five minutes he should never have been able to, even if he was the athletic type.

But it's not what he cares about right now, not right now, and truthfully he even couldn't care less about it right now, not right now.

Because if the Dying Will bullets draw out the full potential of the body, then what about the mind? What about—what about what's inside, what about the soul?

Tsuna can't remember the last time his voice was so loud and strong, and so full of unyielding intent. Can't remember the last time he stood so tall and proud and steady, taking all the space he wanted to be without faltering. Can't remember the last time he embraced his wishes and wants so resolutely and greedily, and without fear or shame or doubts, the last time he lets them move him to chase after them, fully intending to do his best to take a hold of them.

No-Good Tsuna, utterly hopeless and incompetent at everything, but that boy burning with life during those five minutes was anything but, was his very opposite.

Was that also potential?

Was that inside him all along too?

Reborn punches him back to reality, and Tsuna rolls on the floor, cradling his cheek and whining in pain. "I said, what is it, No-Good Tsuna?"

But Tsuna can't tell him, can't bring himself to ask. Won't bear to hear the Dying Will bullet is only a matter of the body, and won't bear to hear either it's a matter of more than body, of everything.

Either way it'll cut anew already bleeding and open wounds, and Tsuna's tired of bleeding.

[Tsuna knows he was an average kid, maybe even below that, knows that was solely on him.

But Tsuna also knows he was made to sink ever deeper from there, was forced to sink as deep as they could drag him to, and he's never been allowed to climb his way back up from then onwards, to try to be more than the simple average he was once, unlike the abysmal he's been turned into now. He's been continuously punished for the abysmal they've turned him into ever since then too, and once, before it grew smaller and smaller until it disappeared entirely, or Tsuna couldn't hear it anymore, a voice used to remind him of the hands clawing at his ankles and keeping him under, used to remind him he was not at fault for only knowing how to keep drowning.

Sometimes he's still able to hear another voice, so small but still loud enough he's still able to hear it, telling him he could be so much more as long as they'd just allow him to be, but he can't bear letting himself believe the voice is right.]


[But he knows it is.

He knows it is and it hurts and tears at him and makes him weep, and makes him so angry—]


Reborn kills him. Tsuna's born anew again.

Reborn kills him again. Tsuna's born anew again.

Reborn kills him again, and again, and again. Tsuna's born anew again, and again, and again.

Tsuna's born anew, then dies again.

Tsuna's born anew again, then dies again, and again, and again, but then starts dying again differently. Starts dying a little less and less each time, starts staying alive and to keep living a little more and more each time.

Tsuna's born anew then dies again, but remembers more and more each time how to keep his voice loud and strong so it can be heard, how to stand tall and proud and steady so he can walk forwards, how to want and reach for the things he wants without fear or shame or doubt, how to try his best to take a hold of the things he wants. And absurdly enough, his life actually starts to change for the better, the colors of the people around him starting to change too, and for the first time in his life Tsuna's given a glimpse of what belonging looks like.

No, not belonging, of course not, not for No-Good Tsuna. But recognition, acknowledgment of his existence as more than just a waste of space they can do whatever they want to with.

For the first time in his life they see him and don't hurt him for it, smile at him and not because of what they're going to do to him, laughs alongside him instead of at his depends, cheers him on hoping for his success instead of his downfall. Some avoid him too, put off by him and wary of him, maybe even a little afraid of him too, but they see him and don't hurt him for it.

It's—

[It's conditional, of course. It's only for those five minutes when Tsuna's whole again, for only as long as Tsuna amuses them and entertains them and proves himself useful to them.

It's conditional, and Tsuna wants to claw their smiles off their faces, wants to sew their mouths shut when they laugh alongside him, wants to crush their vocal cords beneath his hands when they cheer him on.

How much more of his existence are they going to claim as their own? To do as they please with it, to make it bend over backwards to obey to their every whim? To put conditions on it he has to fulfill before they stop tearing it apart, even if it's only ever temporarily?

Only when Tsuna burns with life they remember to treat him as a human being too, but who killed him to begin with?

They have no right to cheer on his rebirth.]

It's bitter, sting and burn and draw ever more blood out of him, but No-Good Tsuna's been so wanting and craving and desperate, has been so lonely, and this at least is worth bleeding for.


Reborn kills him again, and again, and again. Tsuna's born anew again, and again, and again.

Tsuna's born anew again, then dies again, and again, and again, but then starts dying again differently. And absurdly enough, his life actually starts to change for the better, the colors of the people around him starting to change too, Reborn's most of all.

Ambitious-turquoise Reborn, but the color starts to change shade, to deepen, darken. Tsuna watches the new color bloom within blinding and intense turquoise with bated breath, watches it grow and expand until he doesn't even dare to breathe anymore, watches it take over turquoise entirely.

And it's funny it has such an effect on him, because Tsuna's never seen that particular shade of color before either.

"I'm going to make you into the very best of mafia bosses," Reborn always keeps telling him. He has yet to start laughing after saying it too, has yet to take back his words after saying them, instead merely stands by them, his eyes dead serious as they keep piercing into him.

But one day he stops saying it with ambition, with the pride and utter confidence he'll make his words a reality, for no other reason than he's the one sent to him to make it a reality.

One day he's blue instead of turquoise when he says it to him. All-encompassing and powerful blue, still as intense as when he was turquoise but softer on the eyes, easy on the eyes. A blue so effortlessly bright and deep, steady in the way it washes over Tsuna, swallowing him within its embrace. A warm blue.

Expectation.

Reborn's the deep but still bright blue of unshakable expectation, because he's been sent to him to turn him into a mafia boss, and if it's him they're talking about, he now seems to believe he can be nothing else but successful at it.

"I'm going to make you into the very best of mafia bosses," he tells him like it's a fact, a truth in the making, like he couldn't manage to do anything else even if he tried because he's the one he's going to turn into a mafia boss.

Expectation.

[And maybe even—]

It's more trust than anyone has ever put in him, the first time anyone ever trusted him at all to be something—someone worth allowing the growth of, and that night Tsuna sobs as quietly as he can, never averting his eyes from the blue color lighting the darkness of his room.


[Tsuna still can't see his own color. He wishes he could and is terrified of one day truly being able to, wants so badly to know with certainty just how much was taken from him, but won't bear to know instead with that same certainty there really was nothing to take away from him to begin with, like he's been told all his life. So he stands in front of mirrors, and stands and looks and looks, trying to catch a glimpse of any color at all, but he still can't see his own color.

Tsuna can't see his own color, but becomes more and more able to see his reflection, more and more able to bear it for longer amounts of time. He becomes more and more able to see his reflection without all the voices in his head—none of them his—twisting it into something they decided can only be, but isn't. Has never been either. And maybe, just maybe, will never be too because Tsuna will find strength in him again to not let it happen, to not allow it to.

Tsuna stands in front of mirrors and looks, and doesn't end up with a broken mirror and bleeding hands as fast or as often anymore. Tsuna looks at his reflection, at himself, really sees himself for the first time since a long time, and…

For the first time since a long time, he only sees a boy who's as tired and sad and hurt as himself, a boy who doesn't deserve to be made to bleed even more by his owns hands. A boy who doesn't deserve his anger or hatred, who doesn't deserve to be cut by the jagged edges of his desperate hope of something better, his desperate want of something better, and he'd know how painful they are when cutting into skin, so, so painful.

For the first since a long time, Tsuna sees a boy who doesn't deserve to be screamed at "Why can't you do better? Be better? Why can't you do anything right, why do you have to be so useless at everything? Aren't you tired of being hurt, of hurting?".

("Why don't you know how to be loved? Why can't you make anyone love you? Aren't you tired of being so lonely?")

Some days, the good days, Tsuna looks at his reflection in the mirror, looks at himself, and is almost able to say "I know you tried the hardest you could once, and for as long as could, but it only made it hurt more. It's okay, I forgive you.".

And some days, the best of them, Tsuna looks at his reflection in the mirror, looks at himself, and is almost able to say "You deserve none of this, you've never deserved any of this. You did nothing wrong, and none of this is your fault.".

The boy in the mirror weeps, and for the first time since a long time, Tsuna's able to cradle him in his arms through it instead of walking away from him.]


[One day he hopes to be able to say "You're good enough, you've always been good enough." too, and know it to be the truth without a shadow of a doubt.]


Turning him into a mafia boss apparently means purposefully colliding his life with the ones' who caught Reborn's eye too, and making it Tsuna's problem entirely to deal with. And some of them, if not all, do start as a problem for him to deal with.

Gokudera is hostile-red and judgmental-green, but then Tsuna dies and is born anew again, and he turns into grateful-yellow and devoted-brown. Yamamoto is envious-green and depressed-blue, but then Tsuna dies and is born anew again, and he turns into grateful-yellow and loyal-blue. Lambo is uncaring-white before turning into liking-pink, Ryohei curious-grey and hoping-orange before turning into affectionate-pink and excited-green, and Hibari's indifferent-white before turning into irritated-turquoise and curious-purple.

Kyoko is the ever pink of kindness, but then curious-purple blooms within the pink too, while Haru is displeased and disapproving-yellow and hostile-red before turning into loving-red. I-Pin is hostile-red too before turning into grateful-yellow and safe-green, while Fuuta is hoping-orange before turning into amazed-purple and relieved-brown.

Tsuna dies and is born anew again for them, or because of them at the very least, but he doesn't expect them to stay once he dies again.

Why would they? No one ever found No-Good Tsuna worth staying around for before.

They stay.

They stay even when he's not burning with life anymore, and it's most of the time they spend with him, stay even when Reborn keeps involving them into his dangerous and mafia shenanigans too. They stay even when faced to the many reasons why he's ended up being called No-Good Tsuna, and never once mock him for it or hurt him for it. Never ever even seem like they care about it, even when Tsuna can tell with absolute certainty they see him, all of him, but they see all sides of him with the same kind and caring eyes.

They stay.


And then they start to turn gold.


Bright, bright gold but still so soft and warm, shimmering and almost tangible when it wraps around him like the warmest hug.

Loving-gold that grows and grows, swelling until they look like the sun's always shining right above their heads.

They love him back.


Tsuna can't think of doing anything else but let himself smile as wide as he can, let himself laugh until his throat aches, and let the tears spill from his eyes; can't think of doing anything else but revel and relish in how none of it hurts or cuts him or makes him bleed.


Mukuro isn't hateful-black or angry-red, isn't animosity and hostility-black or cruelty-red, isn't even ambitious-turquoise or opportunistic-yellow, and his color makes Tsuna falter, makes his stomach twist and his heart lurch in his throat.

Mukuro's color makes him want to retch and weep when Joshima tells him his story, grief so heavy twisting around his being it brings him to his knees, and knowing it couldn't hope to ever come close to what Mukuro must feel makes his heart bleed. Not his grief, not his pain, not his anger and not his hatred, but Mukuro's color is none of these.

Tsuna doesn't need to think about it to stand between him and the Vindice when they appear, his resolve made of steel and sorrow, and he'll die right where he stands before ever letting the Vindice takes hold of Mukuro.

"Don't try—"

"Please, stay out of this, Reborn," Tsuna says, his voice quiet but unyielding, never averting his eyes from the Vindice. "You wouldn't understand." He marks a small beat to make sure Reborn won't actively interfere at the very least before speaking again, "Let those two go too," he tells the Vindice, demands from them. "Take your chains away from them. You're not taking them anywhere."

"Vongola Decimo," one of them says after a long beat of silence. "No, only still the candidate. I'd advise you to think twice about what you're doing right now."

"I know exactly what I'm doing right now. I was ordered to catch Mukuro and his friends under the threat of death, and I did. Why shouldn't I be the one to decide their sort now too?"

"Tsuna," Reborn tries again, his voice stretched taut.

"Take your chains away from them and leave. You're not taking any of them anywhere."

"Tsuna. Rokudo Mukuro is—"

"A heinous criminal who's done the most heinous of crimes. A monster who's done monstrous things, I know."

"And he now needs to be punished for those heinous and monstrous crimes," the Vindice says. "To answer for them. Step away now, Vongola Decimo, before we make you."

Tsuna doesn't move an inch, doesn't move a muscle. He's tired to the bones from his fights, from that new bullet Reborn shot him with, but he feels fire burn inside him again, steadying him even further. It doesn't make it so far as to light up outside his body, but something of it must visibly show from him, because for the first time since the Vindice appeared, they seem to pause and consider.

"Tsuna, why?"

The lump in Tsuna's throat grows, choking him, has been choking him ever since he's seen Mukuro's color. "He's been hurt enough."

And still, even unconscious, even when he shot himself in the head and came as close to death as possible, if he didn't die altogether for that one moment, purple oozes of him, taking up the size of the room at the very least, so thick and dark, and sluggish and struggling like blood coming out of a festering wound, a rotting one.

Tsuna didn't know a person could be hurt to that extent.

Tsuna will die first right where he stands, will fight back viciously and to his last breath as he's being killed for standing right where he stands before ever allowing himself to enable any more of Mukuro's suffering.


[Reborn and him stand outside his house, watching Mukuro walk away down the street, with Kakimoto and Joshima only a step behind him. They're walking to what is only a fragile and conditional freedom, one Tsuna knows they don't trust for even a second, and with reasons, he knows that too, but at least they're walking free of any shackles and of any cages surrounding them.

"I don't get it," Reborn says. "You didn't owe them anything, Mukuro most of all."

"Please, don't say that," Tsuna says softly. "There are some things we all owe to each other, aren't they? Humane things, and for no others reasons than we're all human beings."

"I know you're not that naive. That may be the case, but there's still nothing binding us to them. And even if you choose to honor them, it doesn't mean anyone else will too, not even to repay the favor."

"I know."

"Some choose to live in such a way they lose the privilege to be owed anything too."

"I know. But Mukuro was never even given what he was owed before he could choose to throw it all away."

Reborn clicks his tongue, sounding irritated, and maybe even worried. "We don't live in a kind world, Tsuna."

Tsuna smiles, turning to look at him, and it's been a long time since his smiles hurt and cut him and made him bleed. "Yes, I know that too, Reborn, I would know. That's exactly why. Do you understand?"]


Chrome is curious-purple when they first meet. Then she turns into grateful-yellow as Tsuna keeps bringing them food and any necessities they need he can carry despite the wary and uncertain air thick in the ever whenever he visits them. And then, as Tsuna pays enough attention to learn when he just needs to comfortably share her silence with her, or when she's silent because she'd rather be left alone at the moment, or when to give her the time she needs to answer him instead of immediately assuming she doesn't want to talk to him and walk away, Chrome turns into affectionate-orange.


[Tsuna kills someone while burning with life, burns him alive until not even his ashes are left, and he wonders if that too was inside him all along.]


"I can see colors," Tsuna hears himself say out of nowhere.

They're in his living room because Reborn wanted them to "debrief" about everything that happened in the future, but his room was too small for that. None of them left once they were done though, not even Hibari or Mukuro.

Gokudera and Chrome are playing cards on the low table, Gokudera trying to not lose his temper and failing as he keeps losing. Reborn sits on the table between them, supposedly playing the judge of fair play while sipping his coffee, but Tsuna wouldn't be surprised if he was helping Chrome cheat her way to victory. Tsuna was also playing cards with them until he kept losing first, and relocated to the couch instead.

Yamamoto and Ryohei were cheering them on at first, sitting on the carpet too, but then got engrossed into talking about the upcoming tournament season they'll both participate in. Meanwhile Hibari's sitting against one of the open glass doors giving in to the front yard, drinking tea and utterly ignoring them, while Mukuro has claimed an armchair from himself, from which he antagonizes Gokudera further and faster, and baits Hibari into a fight during which they'll no doubt level his living room, if not the entirety of his house.

It's not what Tsuna would call a perfect timing by no means, and yet it feels right to say it now, and so when the silence falls on them and they all turn their attention on him, he keeps speaking.

"I don't mean—you know, normal colors. I mean—people. People have colors surrounding them, colors coming from them, and I can see them." He has his hands tightly intertwined on his lap, trying not to fidget, and he can't bring himself to meet their eye. "Maybe because they tell me how they feel about me? I don't know, but… I can see them. Have always been able to."

He falls silent, waiting for them to say something, but the silence only keeps stretching between them until it forces him to look up. Tsuna sees thoughtful faces, confused ones, and it's not anything bad but his heart clenches anyway, his stomach twisting.

"It's the truth," he blurts out, sounding desperate to his own ears, pleading. "I'm not—I'm not trying to joke or anything. I'm telling you the truth."

Tsuna's never admitted to anyone before he could see people's colors. He stopped talking about it the second he realized no one actually knew what he was talking about, no one else was seeing the colors like he did, because he didn't want anyone to use it against him, to use it to hurt him in yet another way. And he doesn't believe for a second they're going to mock him or laugh at him even if they don't believe him, but he finds he needs them to believe him, finds it'll hurt just as much if they don't.

Hibari is surprisingly the first one to speak, "You couldn't lie to save your life, little animal."

The tension in the air breaks then, and Yamamoto laughs. "Yeah, Tsuna! Sorry to say it, but he's right."

"Shut up, baseball-freak, school-freak!" Gokudera snaps at them, slamming his hand on the table, but he's all smiles and utter trust when he turns to him. "Of course you're saying the truth, Tenth! I believe you!"

"It's like the aura extremely manly men have, isn't it?" Ryohei says, nodding solemnly with his eyes closed, his arms crossed on his chest. "It's amazing to the extreme you can see them, Sawada!"

"At the very least it's not surprising in the least," Mukuro says, then chuckles. "It seems you just really love being full of surprise in the most peculiar of ways, don't you?"

Tsuna flicks his eyes to Chrome, and she nods, a small smile on her lips. "I believe you, Boss."

Tsuna laughs, liquid warmth lazily coursing through his body. Then he makes himself stop, but can't stop himself from grinning so wide his cheeks start hurting, but he couldn't care less about it. "Thank you," he breathes out. "All of you. Thank you."

"So that's what you're looking at when you're not quite looking at people," Reborn says.

Tsuna nods. "Yeah."

Reborn's lips twitch like he was about to say something else, and Tsuna smiles knowingly.

[Reborn has turned into loving-gold too. Not like the sun shining right above his head like the others, but undeniably loving-gold too all the same.]

"Oh, hold on to the extreme!" Ryohei shouts excitedly. "What color I am then, Sawada?"

"Turf-top," Gokudera calls out sharply, warningly.

"It's fine—" Tsuna hurries to say.

"No, he's right," Mukuro speaks over him. "What color was I, Tsunayoshi?"

The atmosphere quiets down again, everyone apparently interested in hearing his answer, and Tsuna makes sure Mukuro is okay with that before answering. "Purple."

"Purple, is it? Let me guess," he says, an amused smile on his lips. "Anger-purple? Or perhaps hatred-purple?"

Tsuna shakes his head, his throat closing up a little. "No."

"Oh?" Mukuro says, his smile not faltering an inch, but his eyes sharpening, darkening for a split-second that seems to last longer for Tsuna. "And what color am I now?" he asks, and Tsuna finds himself relieved from the change of subject.

"Not purple anymore," he says teasingly, grinning, but truly happy it's the truth.

Mukuro rolls his eyes, unimpressed, and it only makes him grin wider.

"Wait, Tsuna," Yamamoto says, sounding excited too. "What color are you?"

Oh.

Tsuna blinks, somehow taken aback, even if now they asked, it's obvious they were going to ask him that very question sooner than later.

"I… I can't see my own color, so I don't know."

"Oh," Yamamoto says, but then a soft, fond and wide grin pulls at his lips. "I know what color you are, though." Eh? "Yeah, yeah, for sure! It's just gotta be that one, right, guys?

"What do you—"

Gokudera clicks his tongue. "Of course it's that one, who do you take the Tenth for?"

"Agreed to the extreme," Ryohei says, grinning just as wide as Yamamoto. "It's just gotta be the color that means that, can't be anything else."

"Wait, guys—"

"Oh, please," Reborn says, rolling his eyes. "Spare me all that disgusting sweetness before I have to kill myself to escape from it."

"Indeed," Mukuro agrees, but all Tsuna hears is how Reborn didn't disagree with them, and he's utterly lost by this sudden development.

What color are they so sure he is? The color he can apparently only be?

Tsuna can't think of single one that'd match the unshakable confidence he can see on their faces, and yet he's been thinking about the answer to that exact question all his life.

Hibari stands, facing him. "Get up, little animal."

"Eh? Hi—Hibari-san?"

"Oh, great idea, Hibari!" Yamamoto says, then stands in turn. "Come on, Tsuna!"

What the hell is going on?

Tsuna stands because everyone else is standing too, Reborn hopping on Yamamoto's shoulder. He gives up getting explanations from them too, because it's clearly the last thing they have in mind to do right now.

"Um," Chrome starts uncertainly. "Maybe we… shouldn't force him…"

"It's fine, it's fine," Yamamoto says, throwing an arm around his shoulders. "You trust us, right, Tsuna?"

"Of course I do," Tsuna says right away. "I just—"

"Then don't worry about a thing, we got you!"

"Don't rush him, baseball-freak!"

They lead him to the bathroom of all places, and even if by now Tsuna has an inkling of what this is all about, he still doesn't understand what they're getting at. He did say he can't see his own color, didn't he?

Yamamoto covers his eyes with his hands before leading him in front of the sink and the mirror above it, and Reborn scoffs. "Can you not be so dramatic?"

Yamamoto laughs. "Aw, don't be like that, kid! Alright, you ready, Tsuna?"

Tsuna laughs too, but it's nervous more than anything else. "I guess?"

Yamamoto doesn't remove his hands right away, and still doesn't remove them even after a beat of silence passes. "Don't you really know, Tsuna?" he asks then with a soft voice. "What color you are? What color you'd be if you could see it?"

"I—" Tsuna starts, but the something in Yamamoto's voice and the way the others keep silent make it hard to speak, and he clears his throat. "I don't know."

"It's okay," Yamamoto says, even softer, but then his voice grows louder and cheerful again. "I just hope you'll be able to see it now, and that it'll be the color we all already know you are! And the color we want you to be, for yourself. Because you deserve for it to be, Tsuna, you know?"

Thankfully Tsuna doesn't have time to think about what to say to that before Yamamoto pulls his hands away.

He opens his eyes, and the first thing he sees is gold.

Yamamoto has one arm around his shoulders again, leaning his head against his, Reborn on his shoulder. Gokudera stands on his other side, smiling at him too through the mirror, while Ryohei stands behind them, grinning. Chrome and Mukuro are further behind, Mukuro leaning against the wall, while Hibari remained at the door, leaning against the doorway.

Tsuna's surrounded by most of his most important people, his most beloved people, and all he sees is gold, glinting off the mirror and the glass shower stall, bathing them in a bright and ethereal glow.

It's not his gold, it's not coming from him, but it couldn't matter less when they all surround him like this, when it washes over him from all sides, from everywhere, dancing across his skin and shining in his eyes, almost tangible. Bright, bright and shimmering gold, gold so, so warm.

Loving-gold.

"Can you see it, Tsuna?" Yamamoto whispers.

Tsuna stands in front of a mirror and looks, looks at his reflection, looks at himself, sees himself, and the boy in the mirror has the most blinding and brightest smile on his face he's ever seen.

"Yeah," Tsuna whispers back. "I see it."


A/N: I don't think I've ever delved into Tsuna's feelings when it comes to his bullying before, have I? Like, I always write him with the self-esteem and self-worth issues that came out of it, but I don't think I've written about it before quite like I did here? Either way it was very interesting to do, and I really like how it came out!

Also no plot twist with the black color for this one, just angst lol. And don't think too deeply about how i paired up the feelings with the colors, honestly that was mostly just vibes lol, ngl. And don't ask me how the whole Mukuro not ending up in Vindice post-Kokuyo arc (and how Chrome still ended up part of the picture) went in details okay, that's not the point here and I sure as hell don't know lmao.

Also you can find Reborn's version of the same prompt on my profile, called "Color Me (Un)surprised" (though unrelated to this one in every way)!

I hope you enjoyed the story. Any and all reviews are appreciated.

Thank you for reading!

- Hope