Disclaimer : I do not own Katekyo Hitman Reborn in any way,shape or form.

I do,however,own my character.

I'm warning every single reader out there that my writing is at best,sucky. But I hope it entertains you all anyway.

The first year of my life was terrible. It was still multiple cycles of sleep,feed and changing diapers. (I felt an ominous boding when no matter how much I cried,no one came. What's with that? Eventually,the room I was in was silent...I reasoned that the orphanage had to be understaffed.) I tried speaking but my vocals would refuse to cooperate with me. The language spoken by the caretakers were gibberish at best. There was no way to understand what they were saying,until one fateful day where I heard japanese words,that is. But the moment I heard that,I was horrified-japanese. There's katakana,hiragana,kanji and romaji. Its a hard language to learn and I definately wasen't sure I could adapt to it naturally like the japanese babies around me could.

I'll spare you the boredom of it all. It was almost like those nine months I spent in my "Mother's" womb. Sometimes I wondered if she abandoned me. Where was my 'Dad'? There had to be a reason why I was in an orphanage. Espescially when this orphanage seemed to be...bad. But being limited in this body makes information gathering a non-existent activity-At least,not until I make my body walk. Whenever it rains,I get a sense of dread. Whenever there's thunder,i start crying. My emotions were all over the place. I used to love the rain because the sound soothes me when I read-now I'm afraid of it as if it'll kill me just by existing. Its frustrating because without my command and regardless of my thoughts,my tear ducts leak water and my throat hurts enough that I have to let out a wail. Don't forget the mucus that comes out of the nose,it always overflows. There was no one to comfort a wailing baby.

I trained my vocals for months,and managed crawling by month 9. By the end of year 1(I found the calander hanging on the cafateria's walls) I could walk,and I have said my first word. It was "meow",if you were interested. I refuse to call the caretakers "Mom" or "Dad". They were never there for anyone. Sometimes,I was glad I was even fed at all! It wouldn't surprise me one bit if they actually forgot to feed a growing baby!

Honestly,I was very grateful that I wasen't constantly put near other babies in their playpens.

I was also waiting for the visions to come,but it seems like its not coming...was the panel a fake?

Couldn't be. I saw it literally melt into the surroundings...

I almost lost my patience in trying to move around,to be honest. It wasen't like it was easy to move after being stuck somewhere without movement for nine months.

The caretaker usually tells stories in japanese while we(The babies and I) were in our cribs. They pointed to items and speaks a word,and repeats by pointing to something else. Wow,the education is abysmal. But I'll take what I can get.

It took 4 years for me to be able to coherently string a sentence of japanese in my head.

Yes,it took me that long. My awake times in a year is remarkably little-babies need alot of sleep apparently. It doesn't help that there isn't a specific adult that points out everything is what to you either,there is more then just me in the room. With the added fact of being a teen in a child's body,(No,I was evidently not going to soak up information like a sponge,sadly.) and knowing two languages(English and chinese. But evidently,my chinese language skills are limited to speaking simple sentences...),no. Japanese was tough.

Life continues. We learnt how to clean up after ourselves before the age of 4. (Well,otherwise there would be a urine smell in the room and no one wants that). Children started talking to each other and I find myself with no one to talk to me. That's ok-I didn't want to deal with a bunch of snobby brats anyways. They kept asking why and who( age where they're the most annoying.)and also eventually learnt to keep silent. So I steered clear from them all. I realised my mistake a year later. (But in hindsight,it was both a blessing and a curse.)

I could only blame myself for not realising that orphans stuck together once formed. With no one to help me,I was alone in an orphanage that had low resourses so of course there were fights over said resources. No one to cover my back meant I had to keep my guard up no matter what. But its not like they can start stealing my stuff when I had nothing of note. I lamented at my fate for not having parents in my second life,realising that the life I lived before with financial backing and caring family was absurdly luxurious. You never realise you lost something until you actually lost it.

Age 5

"Alright. So this is how things are going to be done." The caretaker lady spat,"One of you WILL control your ragtag group of brats. And if you listen well,you get more scraps for food. If you don't,you skip out on meals and get punished. Is that CLEAR?"

I finally reached the age of 5,and my group was being transferred to another room with bunk beds. That was the first thing the caretaker said before we entered the room.

I cowered abit. My legs shaking and teeth curled in a snarl. I just couldn't believe the sheer absurdity that this orphanag-no,this shithole,was still allowed stand. It was only today that I realised what situation I was in. I expected that the caretakers didn't have time for every single baby in the room. I expected that they might sometimes be forgetful. I didn't expect that they ruled the kids through fear and food deprivation! If the words I heard wasen't clear enough,then the tone would be evidence.

This was like harry potter with the dursleys except with more children. This was like grelord the kind and her orphanage of fear in a game called skyrim. We all know how those turned out. Starved for love,kicked out at ages from fifteen to eighteen,and dead years later. Even worse,starved to death in their own orphanages,abused by foster parents,homeless-the list goes on. I kept my head down to hide my expression,though. I was a child physically and a teen who died before adulthood-what can I do? Call the cops?They're more likely to think its a prank call! Run?There was nowhere to go! No shelter,no home. No nothing. I knew they spoke japanese,so its likely that i'm somewhere in japan.

I'm not stupid. Somehow people haven't found out that the orphanage I was in abused kids. There had to be someone behind the scenes,covering up what was done and keeping the orphanage as normal as possible. Maybe a crime syndicate of some sort. (At least i haven't seen some kid taken away for some unfathomable reason?) There wasen't much windows in this place,but I saw the outside(Once) and there were quite alot of houses. A rural area,maybe? I doubt I was in a city,at any rate.

I grabbed the first bed I saw and curled up on it. Bad mistake. I was too out of it to notice the newly appointed group leader,and the caretaker saw me 'disobeying orders'. My whole group was taken out of the room to get 'punishment' and forced to skip some meals afterwards. If I was to think along the lines of the caretaker,I guessed that me getting into a bed without permission counted as 'disobedience'. More like a convenient excuse for their sadistic pleasure...

And just like that,my 'group' excluded me out of their 'gang'. Oh,they gave me some food to eat alright(Probably orders along the lines of don't let your underlings die,I suspect),but no less and no more. I thought it was fine like that,until...

Well,until fights between the older groups and younger groups started. Obviously it was over food. I mean,what else do they need for survival? Everything but food were given(No one was going to believe that we do our cleaning by using baking soda and drank tap water,or know that there were no toilet paper)by the asshole which controls this shithole(They can't listen to my mind. And they don't deserve the words person and orphanage.) So of course they fight to get their stomach filled.

At some point,gangs started to identify themselves with how they wore their clothes-some had no sleeve for their right arm,some had no buttons on their coat. I think I even saw an older gang have tattoos that are the same(Where did they get them from?They wouldn't have enough money to get tattoos!) design...

Well,since my group didn't 'declare' me as part of their gang,I was 'unclaimed' but still got food given to me. If you're smart enough,you would have figured it out by now already. Yes,I got threatened to leave my food so that they could just take it. Why,I didn't sit there and just let them push me around of course(I would be a fool to let them take away something I needed to survive),but you see...visions started coming in whenever I tried to hit someone.

A black haired man ran around in the rain,dodging gunfire as he went. He ducks,rolls and twists in ways unimaginable to the untrained as he slips his own hand into the sides of his jacket and pulls out a glinting,black gun. Hiding behind an old wooden bench,he tries to fire back at his pursuers-but he jerks and goes still as a sword plunges through his chest,causing blood to flow out of his mouth and body. His eyelids were wide open in surprise,and the colour of those eyes...

My curled hands would loosen in surprise of seeing a dead person,and I'd get socked to the face by someone's punch. Or kicked. I'd lose the advantage in the fight and get hit till I couldn't stand before being left alone on the brown,dirty floor. Ironically the same colour as my hair.

I managed to deny my attackers any sound of pain just because I was vindicative enough to not let them feel satisfaction. But everytime I got those visions,I just felt like sobbing on the spot. I could feel the injuries that was inflicted in the vision. Basically,I felt that sword plunge me through the chest,felt my heart going still,and nonononono,it was NOT my time to DIE yet-

So I spent my time lying on the floor,curled in a ball(as usual),trying not to let a sound out even as my tears leaked down my face,while they laughed,beat me up more and hollered a sound of triumph before leaving the area.

At least at some point,the caretaker in charge of the group would forcefeed me some food and water every week. I can't say anything about that because at least I was still alive...And there's no guarantee that this would continue. Sure,they make this orphanage seem normal and perhaps that's why they forcefeed me every week,but what if that doesn't last?

After about a month of all that,I dropped onto my torn bed and took a break. At least no one hated me enough to do more drastic things to my living quarters.(They were more indifferent.) I was going to have to find food another day-at least water was provided.("well what do you expect?" I snarked at myself. Humans can't live without water for more than three days after all.) Those visions of mine were a nuisence,everytime I tried to do self-defence,it props up and scares the living daylights out of me!

I was going to have to plan some strategy before I die of starvation. No wonder orphans died so oftenly in my first life. The first plan of action was to find some place to practise,as I had an idea in my mind. I was so blessed to have been crazy over sport anime.

Time flew by as I put in an extreme amount of effort in memorising the locations of security cameras,the patrols pattern taken by caretakers(Oh gee,security was so tight! Probably to stop escaping orphans from making a mess and a scandal.),a mental map of the orphanage and analysing how I could get out and in before daylight. I was ready after a few weeks,double checking and triple checking my plan. No one must notice when I'm gone. Actually,I did more then just memorise the above...I memorised the sleeping patterns of my roomates too. Everyone knew that going out at night was forbidden,thus everyone emptied their bladder and other necessities before bedtime. So hopefully no one wakes up needing the toilet and then realise I'm gone.

The time passed slowly as I did my usual routine of getting beaten up. No one must realise that something was off about me today,and the caretakers forcefeeded me a day ago,so today should be perfect. Night falls,and I slowly evened out my breathing and pretended to fall asleep. I made sure to move every now and then,because I knew I moved when I sleep.(I found a way to find my pattern without a recorder. Baking powder was so useful! But it took a while to get it off my poor bad. My sleep quality suffered.)

After an hour or two(I couldn't check the time...now I realised how phones and watches were convenient)of tense pretend sleep,I slowly moved out of my bed.

I could feel my heart beating rapidly from the fear that I'd be found,from the thrill of doing something no one was bold enough to do. My muscles ached from the hours of inactivity and lax unpredictable movements.

I held my sigh of relief when I got out of the bed and noticed everyone was still sleeping. I read enough novels in my past life that this sigh,or this 'noise' usually did the worst case scenario to sneaking and hiding characters. Tensing up and stopping whenever someone moved in their sleep,I made my way towards the door-my gateway to getting out. This was the hard part-the door creaks whenever it swings open,and right outside was a security camera(to my luck,it wasen't fixed,which was why I believed I could try to get out anyway...) that moves around to...well...scan things,I suppose.

For the door,I managed to sneak a plate of butter from the kitchen(no one would miss a plate and a thin slice of butter...wonder why I don't eat food if I could sneak butter?Remember that food is eyed like how a vulture eyes its next meal. No one uses butter of all things,here.) and hid it under my bed. (yes,because why would anyone think the poor kid had anything to her name? Look at her,she's useless!) You see,butter is oily so if I apply it to the hinges...it stops creaking. If it doesn't creak next morning though,people would be suspicious so I had some water on hand,cupped in some plastic I found in a trash bin. I would wash the hinges when I get back,and hope the water dries before anyone notices it. (Maybe I should've watched the rate of evaporation on the floor,but...well. I can do that test when I got back-it wasen't like I'd spend much time outside.)

I applied the butter to the hinges and placed it back under my bed. Turning the knob slowly was nervewrecking,though.

When no one was looking,I placed two stones that I found on top and beside the sides of the camera. (Of course I wasen't tall enough,so I used the trash bin and stacked them to climb up. Everyone was busy fighting somewhere,after all.) The camera outside the door would knock softly onto the stone,alerting me to when it reached and stayed in position for a scarce few seconds. I estimated ten. I had to strain my ears for this,so thank heavens for the silence at night.

I waited. And heard the signal. Quickly,I pushed the door open(Failure was not an option),slid it back to its original position,reversed my grip on its knob and let go(No noise was heard,quick!). Dashing on the tip of my toes to get underneath the camera just as it swung its sights to the door.

I did it. I did it! But this was just the beginning. I knew the camera didn't see me-I kept my gaze on it as I ran. Flattened myself against the wall as it started to move. My hands,still oily from the butter,was shaking. I rehearsed enough in my own mind to know where to go next. No need for signals now,I turned my eyes up,watched as it swung to stay in the other position,and dashed down the hallway before it turned back. Now...for the next step of my plan.

One thing I would always say to myself was that I was glad that the area me and my fellow roommates were assigned to was on ground floor level. Less for me to memorise and no need for many short dashes through camera blind spots. (which is,you know,right beneath them. Its wall cameras after all!) I came across my destination-an open window(For ventillation,definately.) with no bars(They didn't bother. It was probably the cheapest version installed?) and carefully made my way over it. You can never be too careful.

So what I needed to do was move through the gap in timing I found in the patrolling outside. There was,of course,some cameras that I'd need to avoid outside,too,but it won't be an issue since they were only situated to the front,left and right of the building.

The outside was a fenced in area,with kiddy like stickers of sheeps and bulls which state that its 'kids friendly'. I beg to differ. But it does give off the feel of a normal orphanage... fighting never took place outside when the orphans were allowed to see the sun. Once,there was a fight...and the ones involved was starved for a week. There was a silent rule between the gangs after that to never fight in the open. I enjoyed the time outside in the sun,too. No one could hit me when I was outside,and my torn clothes always hid my bruises somehow. (They learnt quickly to never hit areas easily seen,unless they wanted trouble from those caretakers...) That and I could see the sky,since there was next to no windows in the orphanage(Vents for ventilation if you were wondering...).

Its how I mapped the patrols,too. What?There had to be some guards to show the public that the kids were safe.

But this part of the plan was risky-I blindly hoped that the regimen for changing shifts were the same as it were during daytime. It was up to my wits and luck-and on how fast I could hide behind anything that blocked me from vision. As well as stay away from those flashlights they were sure to have.

They worked in pairs and changed shifts every twenty took about fifteen minutes back and forth from this area. Actually,they circled the perimeter around,except that it was this area near where the patrols passed each other in a cross. There would be guards standing near the front gate,but I was nowhere near there. They switched there and the first pair goes to the left whilst the second pair goes to the right. About twenty mins later they'd send another two pairs of patrol(third and fourth,respectively),and ten minutes after,the first and second patrol would be back. So you can say that I was at the very back of the orphanage,and the pair would pass around the other pair at some point. I just needed to make sure they seem far enough away that they can't see me climbing over the fence.

They went. I squinted my eyes and checked their distance by how far their flashlights was. Clear! I scurried over to the tree nearest to the fences.

Which leaves the question of how I was going to get over this obstacle. Why,they conveniently grew some trees near these fences,and I'll be taking full advantage of that. Never mind the fact that this would be the first time I tried to tree climb.

It was go big or go home. And I wasen't about to go home,not after managing to come this far. I hugged the tree and pushed up like I would scale a pole. It wasen't a smooth ride,and I got some cuts from the jagged trunk of the tree,but it was worth it when I reached high enough and saw my jump line to freedom.

I made sure to find a firm branch to support my weight,because falling now would be terrible and create a source of noise. I checked if those patrols were back.

Still clear. I wagered that I had about five minutes left. I squinted at the next closest tree over the fence,readied myself(Because it was so high up and oh,I could injure myself over this!),and jumped the furthest I could.

For a moment I could feel the air whizzing past my ears,and then my outstreched palms hit the lowest tree brench on the other side. I grabbed onto it like it was my lifeline,terrified that I would sprain a leg if I didn't manage to stop my momentum. The brench shook a little at the weight,but otherwise held firm as its edges slid deep into my hands,tearing some skin apart from my swings. I kept my silence despite the pain,and swung my legs to stop further swaying. Hastening my movements,I let myself fall,and crouched into a roll to avert some of the force from hitting the ground and burst into a run,before the guards could see a child running away from where they were supposed to be.

I turned towards a nearby house to use its walls,hiding myself from sight. I breathed in the nightly air,relishing in the fact that I found a way out,and that there were no alarm raised. That I had a chance to leave,should I ever find a place to call home. That I could actually run away,should I have the resources to do so.

It opened up many possibilties and plans,and allowed me to have a temporary time period to not fear every sound and noise. A time to relax,and practise some running to build up my speed and stamina. If I couldn't fight,I had to 'master' the flight option.

After all,if Sena Kobayakawa from eyeshield 21 could run that fast and maintain it,why couldn't I?Even the evasive manuevers were worth it to remember and practise,simply because it shakes people off my trail. It was time to leverage every single piece of information I had from being a useless person in my past life.

Now...I just had to find a place where I could run in a straight line and back,if only so I could get back to my prison before daylight.

12/12/17