His routine became a bit more settled after having that dream. He never kept track of the time that passed by him, just letting it pass through without a second thought to look back.
There was never a difference in his life as it carried on, and he was just about ready to accept his fate and loss of humanity all because of some devils who were worshipped and praised like Gods.
Tsuna took the time to observe why. To understand why they were special. The glaring reason seemed increasingly obvious. Everyone there, besides the twins, had jet black hair, green eyes, and dark skin. Perhaps it was those factors that made them higher deities and beings.
He woke up to an empty bed, blinking slowly as two young servants helped him out of bed. He appreciated the pitying looks he received. He always did each morning.
There was something normal about the pity. It reminded him of when he was younger and he would walk home with a black eye because of some bullies. The owners of the small cafes and bars would offer those pitying looks without making any move to comfort the boy.
That job was for his mom who failed to do so more times than he could count.
Regardless, he knew whose job it was to comfort him. As the warm water hit his skin, he could imagine a blanket around him as Skull fretted over whether or not it was alright to get too close.
Colonnello would be quietly making fun of Skull with Reborn, and Tsuna would notice the subtle fondness and concern.
He suddenly hissed when there was too much pressure applied to the new wounds he gave himself the night before. There was a hurried rush of words coming from the young girl who pressed too hard.
Tsuna reluctantly patted the girl on the head, being reminded of I-Pin whenever she would make a mistake. He wasn't fond of touching others, but he could make an exception for someone that reminded him so much of someone so precious to him.
The girl calmed down and continued cleaning with a grateful smile on her face. The pity increased as a result.
They scrubbed his body clean, being careful with his wounds. They hadn't needed to be so careful, he was just lost in thought which was why he reacted to the pain in the first place. It wasn't like he could communicate that to the servants bathing him though.
Once they were done, they dressed him in warm, silky clothes and brushed his hair for him. He wished they could stay longer after that, but he knew they would get in trouble. They would get murdered as punishment.
Tsuna would vaguely wish to have that sort of punishment. He would prefer that over...
He blanked as he was left alone. It was lonely when everything became blank, but it was normal. His survival was a lonely thing. He lived in a place where he could not communicate with anyone. He was essentially in a constant state of loneliness.
The doors opened, bringing him back to attention where the twins stood. The woman flew forward to his side, kissing his face as she cooed adoringly at him. The man stood behind the brunet, playing with his long hair.
At times, he could feel it brush against his lower back like a reminder of how long he'd been there. He only wished that it had been a little dirtier to dispel the nightmare he was living each day.
The twins urged him to stand, pulling and tugging at him to make him come with them. It was time for breakfast, he thought to himself with a dull hum in the back of his head.
He felt crazier than before. He was alone with static that was relentlessly buzzing. He was almost willing to give it all up. He just wanted-
The sound of impatient noises made Tsuna look over at the man who was frowning. It looked strange on such delicately soft lips.
He wanted to rip them off. Saw it off. Do something. Anything.
There was food in front of his face as the woman's hand petted his hair patiently, sometimes pushing him down closer to the food. Ignoring his nauseated look seemed to be easy for someone as pampered as her.
He reluctantly ate the food, reminding himself over that-
——It's not flesh. It's not flesh. It's not flesh. It's not flesh.——
It wasn't flesh, he thought as he took a bite of the food. It was disgustingly bland but at least it wasn't flesh. He just wished there was another voice telling him that. He almost felt ashamed to be missing voices that he so readily shut out when it all became too much. He was almost terrified to admit that he needed them.
Once he ate his meal, he was shown around by the twins proudly. He felt like those prized pigs on display at fairs. He only went to one when he was in America. It was so long-
There was a hit on his head interrupting his train of thought. He winced and fell noiseless underneath the oppressive gaze of the twins. It was moments like those that his flames raged in indignation. It never happened as often, but he felt comfort when it did.
He obediently trailed behind the twins, feeling like shit as he listlessly obeyed them. Nonetheless, it was a part of the pattern of his life at that point. It was a pattern he had to be okay with.
He was allowed a 'nap' for some time. Although, he never actually slept. He never felt the need to at that point. Being tired or hungry seemed to be useless emotions in his mind. He was sure he slept an hour or two at night, but only enough to let the dreams and nightmares take hold of him.
Lunch was next in the day after what felt like an eternity of being shown around like a prize. The dining room for lunch was different. It was a simple area in the woods with rocks leading their path to a circle of aligned rocks. Tsuna was to sit on the cushion in the middle of the twins's own cushions. In general, he wouldn't pay attention to what he was eating, but, especially during lunch, he was far too distracted by the worshippers.
It was…sad to watch. They sounded as if they were praising the two devils who would never care for any of them.
The twins would even ignore their prayers in favor of feeding Tsuna in alternating fashions.
The rest of that afternoon was boring. The three of them would continue to just sit there. The twins would revel in the praise and prayers from their worshippers while enjoying Tsuna's presence between them. He could feel his stomach coil. He knew what was going to happen soon and he also knew there was nothing he could do in retaliation.
Dinner was in the bedroom. The food was usually untouched or used in unusual ways. Tsuna never kept track, feeling his mind block it all out in a vain attempt to save himself the horror of remembering. Unfortunately, he would always remember once night rolled around. It would infiltrate his dreams, taking away what little need and desire Tsuna had left in him. He always wished the dreams of home would remain, resenting the nightmares of hands grabbing at his face, thighs, and hair.
The scalding touches in his nightmares felt like thunderstorms from when he was younger. It felt like the hurt of loneliness as he went without comfort time and time again.
Like always, the dreams and nightmares only lasted for an hour or so. The night would still be pitch black and unrelenting in his sudden sleeplessness. He would spend that time contemplating death as he dug the metal shard into his skin as a preventative measure. It all seemed pointless at most times of the night before he would suddenly hate himself for thinking that way. He would feel the determination some nights and slice into his skin more than usual.
He imagined changing the direction of the cut on his wrists, hitting those vitals and ending it all. He never would. He was a fucking coward.
Then he would crawl back into the bed, wait for morning, and do it all again. It was exhausting as days came and went. He watched the season change from winter to what looked like the start of spring. The snow was melting away a little more day by day, watching in envy as sprouts grew from the ground.
He was angry at the seasons in sudden moments at night. He was harsher as he waited silently for something, anything, to just change. Was that too much to ask for? Would he have to live in a constant of pain and anger and nothing for the rest of his damned life?
He couldn't, he wouldn't. He needed something to change or to end or-
The moon was out. What day of the week was it? What month were they in now? There were more and more blossoms on each tree as the days passed. He was angry and…calm.
That was different. He had faced too many different emotions in his nights to himself, but he had never once been calm. He wished it would stay. He wanted the new development in his mind. He wanted to get rid of the static and feel whole once more.
He looked down at the green grass growing down below. He was decently high up. It wouldn't be nearly enough to kill him, but he was desperate for anything that would provide a change to his life.
He held onto the ledge of the window sill, pulling himself up to sit on the edge. He swallowed thickly in anticipation, wondering what he would feel once he hit the ground. Would there be joy? Maybe pure pain? Hell, would he even feel some sort of sick pleasure after all the sleepless nights?
It was easy to push himself off of the ledge. It could've been the knowledge that he wouldn't die, but he knew deep down that there was no pain in the world that could hurt him anymore. He turned his body as he fell, facing the taunting stars of the night in such a new way. It was exhilarating.
He hit the ground quickly, feeling a fiery pain shoot up his body. He fell harshly onto his back. He vaguely heard something snap and knew that his whole body wouldn't be able to move. He huffed, his throat tightening in pain as he laughed. His whole body was in excruciating pain, but all he felt was the euphoric joy of something new in his life.
His eyelids fluttered as he tilted his head back into the grass. Twitching his finger, he dug his nails down into the dirt. The fertile, moist soil brought tears to his eyes, strangely enough.
Or maybe that was the combined pain of his back and throat.
As he basked in the wonders of his pain and joy, he smelt smoke. It wasn't normal smoke, it was almost like a…smoke bomb?
He'd remembered that Lal Mirch insisted he got used to the different smells from different bombs. It was the slightest distinction, but he trusted Lal Mirch to truly want to help him.
There was definitely some sort of makeshift smoke bomb being set, he could feel his vision become slightly more blurred as smoke covered the ground slowly before a flash surrounded the hall that was closest to him.
He could hear distant footsteps and shouts in a different language than the one he had gotten used to.
He wasn't sure if there was any danger coming toward him. He scoffed bitterly as his throat constricted again. The lack of warning only made him miss his voices all the more. There wasn't anything he could do even if he was in danger. He was in no position to move, and, strangely enough, it made the sleep come to him easier. His body relaxed as he listened to the sound of metal and grunts of violence.