Chapter Text
The sheer truth is this: Sawada Tsunayoshi, age fourteen, a student of Class 1-A of Namimori Middle School, died when he tripped on the stairs when he was about to go to school.
The reason why he tripped was because he had an acute chest pain that knocked him off balance. He fell down the flight of stairs and hit his head in the wrong angle. His neck broke and it was painless, yet as he died… he had a dying wish.
A regretful: I wish my life had been better. I wish I could have friends, people who won’t call me Dame-Tsuna. I wish someone would cry when I die because I’m just so pathetic that no one would miss me if I’m gone.
He had wished and wished and wished… some could even say that he had wished with a Dying Will.
It was supposed to be just that. His body would decay because no one was there and no one would look for him. His mom wasn’t here and won’t be here for a while. A lonely death. A dog’s death.
But then… he didn’t really have anything to lose, did he?
It was then that something happened. Orange—orange, orange, orange—Sawada Tsunayoshi is dead. But he woke up, disoriented and not knowing what hell happened that gave him such a killer headache.
(He fell down the stairs, of course it would hurt!)
He could feel it, though, a tug of something cold and freezing. He didn’t know what it is, but it was important and he so desperately wished that he had succeeded.
(Succeeded doing what? He didn’t know.)
The ground was made of eggshells, but he knew who he was. Sawada Tsunayoshi, age twenty-seven, a mafia boss. But that can’t be right, that shouldn’t be. Because he remembered that he had to go school and his mom had asked him to behave as she spend some time with his father. Stories and memories jumbled up together and his chest felt like something was piercing and he coughed up blood.
That was odd, he never had such problems before.
He didn’t know.
But he did know that he had to go to school. Maybe it will come to him. Could it be that he hit his head so hard during the fall that his memories got jumbled up? His name is Sawada Tsunayoshi, aged… somewhere between fourteen or twenty-seven. He was wearing a uniform, so he must be a student. He lived in Namimori, so he must be a student in Namimori Middle School.
He went to school and everything came to him slowly.
Yeah, he knew who he was. Sawada Tsunayoshi, Dame-Tsuna, a no-good loser who was just pathetic in every way. He couldn’t even walk straight, the ground made of eggshells and everything sounded so far away. He stuttered when he talks, he can’t look anyone in the eyes, and Kyoko-chan was the only good thing in the world and he was just… him.
Then there was Hibari-san.
Tsuna (Sawada Tsunayoshi, Sawada, Tsuna, Tenth, Boss, Tsuna-san, Tsuna-kun, Gege, Niichan?) would look at him and feel as if the world would shift slightly to the left. Nothing made sense. But he supposed that it was because this was Hibari Kyoya and no one should mess with Hibari Kyoya. His heart kept pounding and tugging, like all he wished for was to lean on Hibari-san’s shoulder and ask him if everything was going to be okay. Which is stupid. Could this be a crush? What the hell is going on with him? That’s dumb and Dame-Tsuna, while no-good, isn’t so stupid to have a crush on Hibari Kyoya.
Then there was Yamamoto.
Yamamoto noticed him coming earlier, greeted him with a casual ‘Yo!’ and left to go to the baseball practice. This was a common thing, it felt familiar though everything else didn’t feel so. The air was colder around Yamamoto, but that must be because he’s just such a refreshing guy. But his heart tugged at him because it was painful to see him smile a smile that didn’t reach his ears.
Fake pleasantries, he realized. Yamamoto greeted him with false pleasantries because he was just nice like that.
Two days. Two days passed since his fall and he did all he could so he would avoid Hibari-san and Yamamoto-kun because he always ended up coughing blood whenever he saw them (though, avoiding Yamamoto-kun is harder because they were in the same class, and there was a moment where the baseball star had asked for his advice after P.E., but Tsuna stayed clear of him after that). That was weird. Because Tsuna sure as hell did not have a crush on them and he certainly would not have a crush to the point of coughing blood whenever he saw his crush. Thus, he avoided them because his heart would twinge so badly that it hurt and his vision would be overcome with orange.
He tried Googling his symptoms, he really did. But it came up empty.
(Because it sure as hell wasn’t a heart problem. Tsuna didn’t have those.)
But then Yamamoto-kun was about to jump from the roof because he broke his hand and Tsuna was angry.
White-hot and orange, he coughed and coughed as he made his way upstairs to join everyone else who went to see what was going on with their baseball star. It hurt so much, but Tsuna was so irrationally angry at Yamamoto-kun. He could feel that orange thing simmering under his skin with so much fury that he had to hold his breath to keep himself from leaping at Yamamoto-kun and scream at him… in Italian.
Which he cannot speak. Never learned how to. But the words merde merde merde Takeshi coglione! La tua vita è mia! echoed in his skull and he knew what it meant. Shit, shit shit, Takeshi you idiot! Your life is mine!
Tsuna was a bundle of nerves, his head warring against his heart that kept chanting at him to pull that idiot before he wasted his life. But that didn’t make sense! Nothing has made any sense in the last two days! Why?!
Then the weirdest thing happened. His body moved forward, pushing through the crowded students and into the front and he found himself face to face with Yamamoto-kun.
There was something. Something that didn’t make any sense. Something he could not even explain surging through his body. It threatened to seep through his skin and he felt like he was going to burst into flames. But then it suddenly stopped.
The memory of Dad’s boss, a man he had affectionately called Grandfather, came to mind and the world returned to a blur where the voices felt so muted and far away.
Yamamoto-kun was screaming at him, his voice sounding desperate and accusing. Tsuna heard him fine and he answered with a melancholic somberness that sounded twenty-seven instead of fourteen.
“Unlike you, I’ve never put effort into one single thing… I arrogantly told you ‘effort’ and such, but I’ve really done nothing… Saying you’re so frustrated that you want to die, or you want to die because of a career-ending accident… unlike you, I’ve never had those kinds of intense thoughts,” the conversation they shared yesterday after a P.E. class came rushing at him. He was so stupid. So, so, stupid. “In fact, I’m a pathetic person who would have regrets when dying. Thinking if I’m going to die, then I should’ve done it with dying will… thinking that it’s a shame to die like this…”
I wish my life had been better. I wish I could have friends, people who won’t call me Dame-Tsuna. I wish someone would cry when I die because I’m just so pathetic that no one would miss me if I’m gone.
Then Yamamoto-kun cried.
It took everything Tsuna had not to collapse into his knees as his heart lurched, feeling as if it had jumped all the way to his throat instead of beating in his chest. Yamamoto-kun looked so angry at him, like Tsuna had disappointed him. He probably had, rambling his heart out like that. He was just so hopeless. Dame-Tsuna was a really fitting name.
“Are you the type of person who’d die with a smile, Sawada?” Yamamoto-kun seethed, anger and despair rolling into his tongue and it felt like he had punched Tsuna’s stomach. “Are you the type of person who’d smile and ask everyone to take care when you leave your family behind?”
Sawada Tsunayoshi, aged twenty-seven, a mafia boss… who lied to his family because he was scared that they’d know.
He was a pathetic, pathetic loser. He lied to everyone. He didn’t feel happy, didn’t feel content, all he wanted was a chance to bask in their flames once more as they filled his every waking moment in permanent companionship. Thank you, I love you, I just wish we could have more time—what a fucking liar!
The world turned orange—orange, orange, orange—and Sawada Tsunayoshi, age twenty-seven and a mafia boss, ran into his house and left the door only slight open. The orange receded and he sat there hugging himself. He didn’t want to face them, didn’t want them to know. He had died in a blaze of glory, protecting Lambo and Fuuta, he had smiled when he left. That was enough, nobody needed to know that he was a goddamn liar.
He didn’t want to see the freezing rain, the dimming sun, the rampaging storm, the raging cloud, the dispersing mists, the eternally-striking lightning. He didn’t want to. He didn’t-couldn’t-would not— “Decimo!”
Storm. Red and furious, lapping at everything it sees and smothering at the delicate fledgling Mist. The frozen Rain did not thaw as Hayato called to him, screaming and demanding at the fence of his house to be let in. It was as if his flames knew that his Sky was hiding away from all of them and was forcing him to get out. And if he didn’t go out, Hayato’s Storm would swallow everything in its path including himself. Volatile. Dangerous. Tsuna cannot let him burn himself out like that.
He opened the door to his house ever so slightly, just enough to calm Hayato down, before the memory of his anguished and stricken face in that rainy day struck Tsuna so much that he slammed the door shut. Not even leaving it ajar like he had previously done.
The sheer truth is this: Sawada Tsunayoshi, age fourteen, a student of Class 1-A of Namimori Middle School, had died when he tripped on the stairs when he was about to go to school. Then Sawada Tsunayoshi, age twenty-seven, the mafia boss… had used his flames to power this body that no longer had flames in it.
Shutting the door of his house meant that all of him is contained within the Seal.
Hayato’s flames had been the catalyst to make him remember who he was. Sawada Tsunayoshi, age twenty-seven, the Vongola Decimo. The liar who had left his friends behind with a fake smile just because he didn’t want them to know that he was really, really, a coward.
He didn’t even realise that the last wisps of his Flame had screamed out the truth to the world. The truth he had tried so hard to hide during his last moments when he clung to Takeshi’s freezing Rain for comfort.
I don’t want to die. I'm scared, Reborn. Please help me.
But it didn’t matter. He can stay here. His house was warm and inviting and it was alright. The Clam Relic would listen to him, understand that this is what he wanted and adhere to his wishes. It would be okay.
…except, the vengeful Mist was not so kind.
“Sawada Tsunayoshi,”
He didn’t know who it was (Mukuro), but it was familiar (please, Mukuro).
A soft, mocking (comforting), laughter sounded from outside his fence. Seducing him to open it.
“You can’t hide forever,” His house was a fortress, tall and strong and it contained him. He wasn’t twenty-seven nor was he a mafia boss. He can stay here forever if he could help it. “Soon that Seal will be rendered obsolete and you will have no choice than to face what you have done. How dare you lie to us in your final moments.”
No. No, no, no, no!
“If you are not going to open it, then we will destroy this place you clung to with all your soul. Until then…
Stay in your hell until we come and get you.”
Tsuna sobbed.