Takeshi sometimes wondered what would have happened to him if he hadn't met Tsuna.

Would he have died? Splattered flat across the pavement underneath his school, his schoolmates watching the scene in horror.

Would he have lived? Bones shattered, but left with the humiliation of having failed his attempted suicide, the lingering disappointment from his father hanging in the air of his home.

Maybe the entire incident would have been delayed. (because, truly, Takeshi didn't think it would have been avoided completely, in the end.) Only for him to try in High School instead.

Then he wondered about Tsuna.

The brown haired boy had always been a mystery to the school populace. He had no friends, abysmal grades, and very little athletic ability. However, it was well known that, for some reason, every bully that had ever bothered with 'Dame-Tsuna', had become terrified of him by the time the little brunette had reached Middle School.

The change wasn't gradual, like you would expect from kids being told off by teachers or parents, or them simply growing out of being a bully. No, this was immediate, quick, like a viper striking at a passerby's Achilles heel. By the rumors that had spread and the silence of every known bully/delinquent, it became apparent that someone was protecting the kid.

Some said it was the Disciplinary Committee, but seeing as how it never went out of it's way for such things, that was unlikely. Others said Hibari himself was protecting him, but this theory was immediately dismissed (Though a few girls seemed to bring the odd idea up once in awhile, followed by high-pitched squeals)

Takeshi thought that maybe it was just Tsuna standing up to his bullies, but that didn't make much sense, as the brunette was still as shy as can be and didn't look like he could yell at a fly, much less hurt one. Still, looks could be deceiving, and Tsuna had been slowly proving to the school that he wasn't just a 'Dame'.

It was intriguing to watch, actually. The school population had started attributing Tsuna's 'Dame' actions to just laziness. More and more, the nickname 'Dame' was said in amusement, like the students knew that Tsuna had been pretending the whole time. Takeshi, however, knew better and was a little disgusted that people only took an interest in the brunet because he was somehow less of a 'waste of space'. Takeshi made sure that Tsuna didn't interact with these people more then what was strictly necessary. Afterall, he understood the damage that fake 'friends' could do.

Yamamoto Takeshi hadn't realized it, but it was at that moment that he started to develop what would be widely known as a 'Tsuna-complex'.

Gokudera Hayato made it a point to never question Tsuna-sama.

Not because Tsuna-sama would mind (in fact, as long as Hayato wasn't destructive, he didn't seem to mind anything he did), but because he somehow sensed that the brunet wouldn't be able to answer all of his questions.

Being a genius coupled with his burning curiosity had left him with a wide range of knowledge at his disposal. Most of this knowledge revolved around the body (courtesy of Shamal) and UMA's. So it was no surprise that he noticed Tsuna-sama's quick reflexes and instinctual practice of parkour. He also noticed the developed callous and comfortability with training. Hayato once came up with the brilliant idea to sneak in questions that wouldn't seem suspicious.

"Where did you learn how to run like that, Tsuna-sama?"

A blank look was enough of an answer for Hayato, but Tsuna-sama deemed him worthy of giving him details. "I . . .dunno." The brunet half-shrugged, as if very unsure of his answer. "Learn? That's kinda . . .I don't want to say inaccurate, but it can't be like I just woke up like this, right?" For some reason, Hayato knew that Tsuna-sama was trying to convince himself more than give the Smoking Bomb an answer.

Growing up in the mafia world, Gokudera knew that expression that Tsuna had worn while answering his question. It was several days later, when Hayato was reading over one of his many books that he realized just what that expression was.

'Confusion, frustration, worry, and a hint of nostalgia.' His mind listed the symptoms like a grocery checklist. 'Tsuna-sama has had his mind altered, most probably by Mist flames.'

It was at that moment that Gokudera Hayato's 'Tsuna-complex' had been cemented.

It was one of those days that Tsuna wondered just why his mother had deemed it appropriate to make a random feast. Waking up early in an attempt to avoid Reborn, he had inadvertently walked into her cooking up a storm. Not really used to being curious about what his mother was doing, but at the same time knew that something had to be going on and if he was out of the loop it probably had something to do with Reborn.

Hesitantly, Tsuna reached over for a bowl and some cereal as he made his own breakfast, having been doing so for the last few months. As he went to the refrigerator to get the milk, he paused before looking at Nana and swallowing his pride, "Na-," Stopping himself from upsetting the woman who would inevitably call Iemitsu while upset, Tsuna corrected himself, "Mother, is there anything . . .significant going on today?" As much as he tried to make that sound as casual as possible, Tsuna knew he failed. To be honest, he didn't really know if he could be casual ever again with his mother.

Nana, thankfully, didn't seem to notice as she continued to prepare whatever dinner she had in mind. "Oh, Tsu-kun! Didn't you know? It's Reborn-chan's birthday today!" Feeling a headache start up again, Tsuna grunted his thanks before sitting down to enjoy his cereal.

He stared at Nana as she prepared whatever it was she was making (he really couldn't care less, but was very bored), noting the decidedly Italian platter of fettuccine alfredo, and salad in olive oil with balsamic vinegar, Tsuna couldn't help but think that something was missing.

Wondering if it was worth the trouble to get Reborn a present at all, or if he would be punished for not doing so, Tsuna decided that his life was important enough to bother. Getting up from his table and putting his half-eaten food in the sink, Tsuna looked over to the woman who was his mother and sighed. "Don't . . . ." Nana paused in her cooking, glancing at her son as he spoke up, "Don't make a dessert. I'll take care of that." The brown-haired woman smiled softly before going back to her cooking. Tsuna, taking her nod as confirmation, he left the house, grabbing his wallet as he did so.

He didn't notice Sawada Nana's tears of joy at the first conversation that her son had initiated on his own.

Despite evidence to the contrary, Nana wasn't as oblivious as one might make of her.

Or at least, any obliviousness that could be seen was merely her attempt at blocking out the bad things. BecauseIemitsuwasinsomethingbadandsheknowsitbutshedoesn'twanttomentionitforfearthat Tsunamightgetmixedupandsometimesshedidn'tknowwhattodo

Never let it be mistaken that she didn't love her son, nor did she not try to understand her son, but there were just some days when she really needed Iemitsu and his big strong arms that seemed to carry all their problems away. Still, she would freely admit that she was the one who had messed up. She was the one who had caused Tsuna to push away from his own parents.

No, Sawada Nana was not oblivious. She also knew that it was almost impossible for her to patch up her relationship with her son. This wasn't due to any lack of effort on her part. (Because, once she realized what she had done, she tried. So, so, so, hard she had tried.) Nor was it Tsuna's fault (because who could really blame him?). No, if there was anyone to blame, it would be that man.

Despite her jealousy of how easily her son had let that man into his life, Nana didn't resent him for it. In fact, she was overjoyed that her Tsu-kun had found someone to confide in. But she knew, that it was through her own blunder that, that man was able to become the single most important person in her son's life.

She had seen him before. In the park, buying his son a drink after a long session of running around the entire field. Near her son's school, where one glare had silenced those who dared to call him 'Dame'. And even at the ramen shop, where he would reach out a hand to ruffle her son's messy hair with a fond smile on his scarred lips. She hadn't even known his name until she had thought to ask the ramen bar owner.

Saito Mamoru.

An oddly Japanese name for an obvious foreigner. Still, Nana decidedly didn't think much of it, but kept the name close to her heart. She thought about confronting the man, confronting her son and doing something about the odd relationship those two had.

But then the despair of seeing the bad things would come up in her heart. She didn't want to know the bad things. She didn't want to try and understand cruel, heartless, bad, bad, bad, bad things. So instead, she smiled and asked her son how his day was as he smiled in satisfaction despite the bleeding calluses and bruised body.

No, Sawada Nana was not oblivious. She just had selective blindness.