Chapter 7 -

Trustless.

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

I do,however,own my character.

EXTRA 1 : Akira's past.

I was that one kid that always got excluded from everything. Before my death,and even before I was a teenager,it had always been that way. I don't know if it was because I was a girl,or because I was loud,and brash,and stupid,but it happened. I really do believe I was quite stupid at that age,but everyone makes mistakes,right?

When I was young,the boys loved to pick on me. Right at the first day of primary school,some mischeivious males decided to throw stuff at me. Thinking it was just a 'game',I picked them up and threw it right back at them. This continued.

Than it got weird. Whenever I went to the toilets,my bag goes missing. Stuff underneath my tables? Gone by next morning. Maybe there was a shove or two from them during Physical Excersie (PE) class,too. I don't remember,or want to remember. But I do know that even though I loved PE,I always ended up with bruises one way or the other.

On one bright sunny morning,I made a friend. I was overjoyed. She was one of those non popular ones-I think. She'd sit with me at recess,but that was it. I don't know if she was even in my class,my memories from then had faded a long time ago. I was very,very,happy whenever someone talked to me,espescially her since she talked to me the most. She had some financial problem back then,and so everytime during recess she'd ask me for a dollar or two. I obliged-it was just a little bit of money I wouldn't miss,and I'd hate to see my friend starve-another reason was that I just wanted someone there.

One would think that I had at least talked to one of those male bullies of mine,but it was limited to me shouting at them while they ran away from me,espescially when I catch them trying to drag my bag away from the entrance of the toilets. (It was a trolly bag,and I hated getting the wheels wet in the toilet-the floor was terribly dirty with the water spilled,and having those wheels on my shirt when I carried it? No way!)

Sure,I swung my hands at them-but really,they had no power to it. I was too softhearted to actually hit anyone,and had decided that as as long as I could scare them off with it,that was fine. I couldn't catch up to them either,even though I was faster-they could last longer. As we grew,I only got slower while they got faster,and lesser stamina compared to their growing ones.

But yes,my first real conversation was with a girl that would ask for money.

This continued for about two years,give or take one. Through the hall lectures slash assemblies that sometimes informed and warned students of bullies,of extortion... I realised.

There was something fishy about my so called friend.

So I did a test.

I didn't pick a location or anything. One day,while we were walking down the spiral staircase up to our canteen,I told her that I didn't want to give her any more money during recesses. I turned my back to her,intent on escaping her gaze just in case she was dissappointed in me as a friend for not helping her,it was just a little bit of money,after all... But that was what she said,and what I was persuaded into-because I realised that she never returned me any money I 'lent' her. At first,I didn't mind,it was 'just a little bit' of money,and 'Don't be stingy,sharing is caring'. After a while-the sum added up was enormous. So I told her she should return some to me when she could do so-she agreed every single time,so I remained patient,and placed my trust in her.

But that day where I told her I wouldn't do so anymore?

Out of the corner of my eyes,I saw her try to push me down the stairs. I was ready for it. And. I. Didn't. Dodge. It.

Purposely,I let myself fall. I saw her eyes widen from behind me,right at the edge of my eyes,as though as if she didn't expect me to actually fall. That was true,I let her hands push me and went with the momentum. I let my legs hit the stairs,pain coursing through me,and promptly let it cause me to cry. I didn't worry too much about getting hit too seriously,because I controlled my fall-it wasen't the kind that tumbled me down like a ball rolling,but the kind that made me hit only my legs-specifically my knees. It was like a slide-one that peeled off my skin.

The teachers came. She was punished,and I was sent to the general office in a crying mess.

I may have let the pain cause me to cry,but I knew that it really wasen't any sort of pain-it was the emotional kind-the one that made you feel heartbreakingly sad because that one someone who had been my friend had lied to me for years on end,a friend that I trusted and had faith in.

I had hoped she wouldn't do anything a bully might do,if I had told her that I wouldn't give her money anymore. Hoped that without the 'money' she would still be a 'friend'. She failed that,right then and there,when she tried to hurt me in a fit of...anger? I don't know what emotion she felt then,but I think it was anger-otherwise she wouldn't have been so irrational. Not only had she pushed me down the stairs,upon seeing me hurt with blood on my injuries,she had left me there.

I name dropped her when I was questioned by the teachers,and that was how she got punished. She stayed away from me,and I stayed away from her. We drifted away from each other,just like that.

The boys,have of course,kept trying to harass me all this while. I kept every single study material inside my bag,and it became too heavy for them to even try to use the handle to roll it away from...wherever I brought my bag to. So I got called as a 'luggage lady'. They also loved to call me 'crazy' because my surname sounded like it in my mother tongue language-I hated that,and made that known,because that was not only an insult to myself,but an insult to my family.

I had no friends,and I felt so,so,lonely. My only comfort was the Nitendo DS my dad had bought for me to play with at home,and eventually that evolved into an Ipod that I saved up three hundred dollars for by not buying any food during recess. Besides,there was no one to eat anything with,and the most I ever got was french fries in a plastic bag,filled with salt,so that I could keep moving as I ate. You never knew when someone would spit into your food,or have it dumped on your head. Even had a shoe with dogshit on its soles thrown in my bowl,once. That was disgusting.

I was glad I even had three friends once I graduated from my primary school. By secondary school,I had turned into an introvert. Having only three friends,I managed to enlist myself into the school where I could be with them. I was unlucky,and so were they-only one of them ended up in the school I chose,and the other two had gotten an ultimatium from their mothers on the school they should attend. Understandable,but I was sad anyway.

But alas,I had placed my trust wrongly again. After about five or more years of friendship,one of them decided to cut ties with me. I may be entirely biased by that point,but objectively I had two remaining best friends that dragged me into a whatsapp group with her,and was promptly told that she tried to badmouth me right to my two other best friends in another groupchat.

We were in secondary school when she had actually cut ties with me after pulling me to one side during schooltime,saying it right to my face. "I'm sorry,I don't want to hurt you,but I don't want to be your friend anymore. Can we be like,classmates instead?"

That was stupid. Complete and utter bullshit. They(my three friends) know,and I know,that I would be very,very,very hurt if something as abrupt as that happened. On one side,I was thankful that I had two,loyal friends. In the end,even they slowly cutted their ties with her,after one of them told her she didn't want her to badmouth me. My second best friend stayed friends with her,but it was clear that even she was drifting away.

...I did,however,tell them that they shouldn't let their friendship with her be affected by her broken friendship with me. What happened right there was entirely their choice,and although I know I shouldn't be happy about this because this spat had affected their views and opinions of her,leading to this slow eventual demise of their friendship-I...was happy. I admit that. I didn't want her to be around my last,remaining two friends. They're literally the only ones I have left.

My ex friend was popular with my class. Better than how much I had interacted with my classmates anyway. Seriously,I had kept contact with them to a minimum because I had always just hanged out with her. Had she always tried to mislead me? She had always told me that the class hated me. That was why I didn't try to make much talk with them. She had said that it was the way I slept in class,and the way I still scored high in tests despite that.

Now I knew better,but my class is rather indifferent to me by then,and I always saw her talking to someone or the other. Sure,some of them approached me,but on average it was next to nil.

I tried to cope. I started ignoring lessons because I know she was there,prefering to sleep rather than notice anything. Started to try to skip school without consequences,by making myself sick. Turned to more fascinating things in the world of internet.

My grades dropped,my homework piled up. I didn't care,and continued to play around. I knew the consequences,but I also knew I was a child. When will I be able to 'play' like I can play in my childhood now? Definately not when I'm finally acknowledged as an 'adult',and most definately not allowed to shirk any responsibilites when I join the workforce. I have my passion,my motivation,in computer science-but even then,I had to do the academical studies that I tolerated for so many years of my life,along with the torment of seeing a certain ex friend everyday. Even the one friend I made in school after her betrayal has her as a 'friend'. Of course,I would never let my relationship with others affect the relationship I have with another friend,but it doesn't ever stop that stab-that spike of posessiveness,anxiousness,worry that your friend could be stolen by that one friend you got betrayed by.

I treated her like air,but clearly,I was still disturbed. Even the next school I would go to might have her in it. It got better with time,although now I had a bunch of bad habits I never had before.

I still had two friends,but they were busy. I didn't want to disturb them either,and their studies,I know,are crucial at this point in life. Dragging myself down is fine-dragging anyone else? No. I would not fall that low.

My online friends. It is not to say that they're not supportive-they were,really. But I wanted someone real,someone in real life. If I had regrets,it would be that they would be stuck forever wondering where this friend of theirs had went to. They would never realise I died because they would never know my real identity,and vice versa. Some things has to be kept,even from online friends-and I would have liked to share them-except that there were always a bunch of warnings not to do so. They can't be online twenty four slash seven and neither can I-and that was why school had been such a torment. There was no wifi there,after all.

Teachers chased me. I wanted them to stop. I met a teacher who I thought I could trust,but held her off at an arm's length because I couldn't. I couldn't stand it if someone else decided to throw me away like trash. Ever since that day,the only thing I could trust was my electronics. By now,I had a personal computer and more.

My dad-oh,my dad. I love him,but he's extremely short tempered and does so much work. Never time for me. My family loves me,and I suppose I love them back. But I don't feel it. I never do. I felt so hurt whenever they called me useless,because I knew I was-what with not working and lazing about all day. Its a sore spot for me. They sheltered me for so many years,and I knew that surely,even those kids in developing countries would be better than me-but I also knew that I should never compare myself to others. It has always been a dillema. Just start helping out! One might say-but has anyone ever considered how miserable I already was? Of course,that was no excuse. And so I slipped further into self loathing.

I buried myself in entertainment. I found friendship,unbreakable bonds. I loved it. Katekyo Hitman Reborn.

...And on that one,fateful,day. One girl died from electrocution,and awoke in another world. Her name was Yoru Akira.

That's me. I had qualms about my name though. I mean,the author of the manga was called Akira Amano.

A new life. A second life. A chance to not be a waste anymore-no need to see the thorn in my heart,no need for a current struggle against studies-a few years of break before I ever had to see an acadmical related subject ever again,and it would even be easier because I already knew them. Given time to think,to plan,to feel not feel constricted by anything anymore,for I would know what I'd be doing this time round. It was boring when I was in the womb,and it was still boring when I was finally a baby and not some embryo in a womb-but I'd take daydreaming over studying anyday.

But I was in a shady orphanage,and I had a time bomb for this life of mine. I miss that life just as much as I was relieved I didn't have to live it longer. But there was no time to mourn,not just yet. I needed to get out of this gutter,and most of all I needed to be patient. Patient like the game I played as a sniper-waiting for that perfect moment to eliminate the target. So I played pretend-I convinced everyone in the orphanage that I was useless. The exact thing I hated being called as in my old life.

Mediocre grades and no communication skills whatsoever. I didn't plan on being aliniated from the orphanage kids,or to be mute but it happened anyway-so I planned around it. Adding 'an easy target for bullies' and 'mute' would only get people to not notice me more,which would be great,because I planned on leaving the shithole one day without being dragged down by it.

Then a certain anime character turned real. And the rest...well.

A/N : Background story. Ok,so maybe it might be a bit boring,but I did want people to feel it 'click' in their head on Akira's actions. I'm still trying to figure the next chapter out,but I keep scrapping a bunch of things I wrote,so I wrote this first. If we're lucky,we'll get a another update in a few moments. Let it be said that my fingers just type,and even I'm just reading whatever it types,even if the plot is in my head.

17/9/18