Rewound

Summary: They called him Neo Vongola Primo, the second coming of the esteemed First. Tsuna doesn't really think people meant it like this. /In which Vongola Decimo Tsuna wakes up as a blonde, five year-old orphan named Giotto./ Tsuna!Giotto

Beta'd by: the lovely Mitski-tan

Disclaimer: Katekyo Hitman Reborn belongs to Akira Amano. 'Nuff said.

{prologue}

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Someone was screaming.

Despite that, however, he could still hear his companion's words.

"N-Ngh . . . Tenth," Choking gasps of pain echoed into the stale air. Green eyes, tainted with dark despair, stared pleadingly. "A-Agh . . . Tenth ―no,Tsuna, please . . . you have to go."

And then the gasps were no more, and he was left to stare blankly with questions still burning on the the tip of his tongue.

Go. Go where?

Everything was painted with shades of red. Even his companion's beautiful silver hair and pale skin . . . blood red stained his chest and his lips like a blossoming rose.

The others had been the same too. Cold, porcelain dolls, covered in red roses and red vines . . .

No.

No.

It wasn't supposed to be like this.

Come heaven or hell, they were supposed to be together ―no matter what.

But why did this happen instead?

Why?

Whywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywh―

―Oh. The one who had been screaming was him.

And then Tsuna woke up.

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But . . . Tsuna wasn't really Tsuna anymore.

{chapter i}

He was wrenched from his sleep only to see the blinding light from the sun . . . and to hear a blood-curdling scream that was abruptly cut short.

Bolting up from his bed, the uneasy feeling that was a result of his already-fading nightmare tripled, and immediately Tsuna was rushing out of the room he was in―

―Before he stopped short and just stared.

A beautiful lady with dazzling blonde hair lay limply at the bottom of the stairs. Her limbs were bent in ways that were unnatural, like a broken doll's ―or a puppet who had its strings cut. Copious amounts of blood oozed out of her mouth like dribbling red lipstick.

But what had been most striking to Tsuna was how her neck was twisted gruesomely, blood spurting out of her nape in a ghastly imitation of a fountain.

Tsuna breathed in slowly, immediately regretting it as he smelled the heavy coppery scent in the air. This person was dead. It was clear that she had taken a nasty fall from the top of the stairs, breaking her neck in the process. She was just one of the many individuals whose life was cut before her time.

. . .

Tsuna ignored the slight pang in his heart.

(It was only then, as Tsuna made his way to the lady, did Tsuna realize that his limbs were much smaller than they had been before.)

"O-Oh God." Someone gasped out in Italian.

Hurried steps. A gentle hand on his arm as the stranger led Tsuna away from her.

. . . No, not 'her'. The corpse. Because the beautiful lady ―was dead.

"She must have tumbled down the stairs . . . Giotto, are you alright?"

Who?

". . . Giotto?"

Who? Who are you calling for?

Soft murmurs. Pitying looks. Shock, the person said. He forgot everything, a mechanism to alleviate the pain, perhaps?

No, no, I really don't know. I'm not Giotto!

They sat down and had a quiet conversation, one filled with hesitation and many pitying glances. Turns out, Tsuna and that lady ―who was apparently his mother― had graciously offered their house for the person, a traveller, to spend the night.

"I'm sorry Giotto . . . I don't know much. All I know about you is from the small talk I had with your mother yesterday."

No! Not my mother! Not my mother! My mother was Nana!

"D-Do you want to come with me, Giotto? I'm travelling to the next town, but I can drop you off at their church . . . they take in orphans."

Orphans.

He was orphaned.

Tsuna adamantly refused.

The traveller helped Tsuna bury the woman, his mother-but-not, before leaving.

Tsuna didn't shed a single tear, even as he lowered a single white rose onto the fresh grave.

("Here," They handed him a lovely white ring with a pretty blue jewel.

"What's this?" He asked.

"Your mother's wedding ring."

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That woman was not my mother.

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The ring was threaded onto a string and stayed snugly around Tsuna's neck.)

His name was Giotto.

He was five.

He had golden tresses ―just like the broken lady's― instead of his usual brown.

His eyes were no longer chocolate-coloured but a light shade of orange instead.

.

.

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His name was Giotto.

Giotto.

How many Giottos could there be? This wasn't something Tsuna could just brush off. After he became the boss to the largest Mafia Family in the world, believing in coincidences was no longer a privilege he had.

In any case, somehow Tsuna had travelled about two hundred years back in time . . . which, granted, wasn't that bizarre when you have both Spanner and Shoichi Irie under your roof―

―But, he had ended up in the body of one Vongola Primo.

. . . Okay, now that was more than a bit weird. As far as Tsuna knew, nobody had invented something that could make you switch bodies yet.

And that brought the once-brunet to yet another problem.

Because . . . Tsuna couldn't remember how the heck he got here. The last thing he could remember was being with his Guardians―

. . .

Wait. That wasn't right. Hadn't he been doing paperwork with Hayato? . . . Or was he holding that meeting with Reborn?

. . .

The unsettling feeling in Tsuna's chest grew stronger as tendrils of fear snaked through his body.

Something was wrong. Tsuna couldn't remember.

three weeks, two days

Casually, casually, casually . . .

His head was held confidently but not enough to attract attention as he walked forward. He was discreet but looked like he belonged. He blended into the shadows and walked as if he was made out of darkness.

And then . . . ever so slowly, his hand inched forward and inconspicuously snatched two loaves of bread off the counter.

Nobody, not even the baker manning the stand, noticed.

"Bread, check."

Tsuna exhaled quietly as he stuffed the bread into the bag he had bought with him that day. It was already full of tomatoes and lettuce, with an assortment of other fruits. Tsuna had quite a big haul that day.

His current home was this quaint little cottage about an hour to two hours' walk from the nearest town. Tsuna had spent the first week cooped up in there, barely eating or drinking anything as he completely freaked out.

And then, divine intervention occurred.

Er, kind of. On day eight of his stay in the past, Tsuna had a dream (or maybe it was a nightmare?) where Reborn repeatedly hit him with his green Leon-hammer and called him a No-Good boss who couldn't even feed himself properly.

. . . Uh huh. That had been enough to snap Tsuna out of his self-induced fast and fix himself a proper meal.

Luckily for Tsuna, his . . . mother had stocked up on some food before she had died. Tsuna was able to spend a whole week living off of that before he had eventually ran out. During that time, Tsuna carefully scouted his surroundings, managing to locate the towns that were closest to his home.

And then came the next part.

Okay, their house had some money, stashed away in a pot in the kitchen (paranoid much?). There was enough to buy food, that was for sure. But Tsuna didn't know if he would need the money later on. In any world, any universe, money held some power.

However, there was still the problem of needing food . . .

Granted, Tsuna knew that stealing was bad. You were taking away profits from a family who spent countless hours and days slaving away to obtain the food. From a young age, children were taught that it just wasn't ethical.

But, Tsuna needed food.

Tsuna, or rather, Giotto, was five. The fruits and vegetables with seeds he had picked up would eventually be saved to grow his own crops. As of now, however, it was either steal . . . or starve painfully and slowly to death. Even his money wouldn't last forever if he didn't have a job, and really, let's be honest: who would hire a five-year old?

. . . And frankly, Tsuna had done many more immoral things as Vongola Decimo. Stealing wassimply another crime to add to his already long list of sins.

Luckily (?) for him, however, Reborn's training had some effect on him. Now, when Tsuna was focused, none of his No-Good Tsuna personality showed through. In fact, focused-Tsuna could even be compared with a ballerina; that was how graceful he was. With his crash course in stealing (Reborn had taught him everything, even things that Tsuna had never thought he would need . . . though Tsuna must admit that his teachings were rather helpful now), Tsuna's first attempt at the dark art had gone without a hitch.

It had almost felt as if it had been too easy.

Currently, Tsuna was on his second food run. With enough food to last him another week, Tsuna started to make his way out of the town. He had to leave before the sun set or risk walking home in the darkness.

The town he was in was rather peaceful and ordinary. Bright lit stands filled the streets, and orphans―street urchins, his mind supplied―had turf wars in the alleyways. Mothers walked by holding the hands of their precious children while business men hurried along with their canes tapping against the stone ground. It was a quiet town, but a nice and peaceful one nonetheless.

"YE ROTTEN THIEF! GET BACK HERE!"

And that was exactly why Tsuna jumped a foot in the air when an ear-shattering bellow rang through the street. For one, panic-filled moment, Tsuna was afraid that the yell had been directed at him.

But then his rationality took over―

(Nobody noticed when he stole things right under their noses, they will not notice now . . . )

―And Tsuna ducked neatly into the alley beside him to get out of the way and observe the scene from a bystander's view.

A commotion was happening a bit farther ahead on the street. People were backing off as a . . . red blur passed them? Blinking in surprise, Tsuna leaned out for a better look―

"HAH! TRY CATCHING ME OLD MAN!"

―And felt as if an icy hand had grabbed his heart and squeezed. A child, perhaps a one or two years older than his current physical age, was hurtling down the street whilst clutching a loaf of bread to his chest. Wine-red hair, leaning towards pink ―the exact shade of his right hand's hair as he pleaded for him to leave― was styled in that ridiculous octopus-like manner. Reddish brown eyes glinting in determination and anger. His skin, clearly a type that burnt easily in the sun, gleamed in the light as sweat droplets rolled off from the velocity.

The familiar aura. The familiar facial features. The familiar scowl.

No tattoo marred his face yet, but Tsuna would have to be blind to not recognize who this person.

G. The First Storm Guardian of Vongola. Primo's Loyal Right Hand.

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His Hayato's replacement. Or . . . would it now be the other way around?

No, no, no! Hayato was never a replacement for G. Hayato was Hayato!

The thoughts in his head felt as bitter as the taste in his mouth.

three weeks, six days

If anything, Tsuna had adjusted to his new life. Well, he adjusted to it to the best of his capabilities, in the very least. He no longer jumped at the shadows that grew during the day. He no longer tried to fill the uncharacteristic silence of his home with his own voice. He no longer faltered at the particularly red stain at the bottom of the stairs.

Thus, Tsuna deemed himself ready to explore his (new?) home.

Armed with a broom (he was going to clean as he looked for valuables), Tsuna began his adventure. In a way, this wouldn't have been the first time Tsuna turned the house upside-down. He had turned the kitchen upside-down during his second week, to look for food. Now, however, Tsuna was going to search all the other rooms.

His own room was a tiny place. In fact, it could even be compared to the janitor's closet back in his middle school. A small drawer was set beside his small bed, and a dusty and old lamp was placed on top of it. The drawer seemed to hold what little clothes Tsuna owned.

Beside Tsuna's room was his mother's. Tsuna crept into it cautiously, muttering a prayer as he did so for the poor woman that had died with no warning.

It was slightly bigger than his own room. There was a closet pushed to one wall and a bed claimed the other. Moving towards the closet, Tsuna dusted the floor before opening it.

"Whoa . . ."

Exotic dresses are what Tsuna saw first. Beautiful, elegant dresses, made with delicate embroidering and bright clothes. Tsuna bit his lips in confusion. A light touch on the closest dress confirmed his suspicions: velvet.

Real velvet. The real, expensive kind.

. . . Why did Tsuna's so-called mother own such expensive clothing? And their house. Why did Tsuna's mother buy a house so far away from the town? On another note, how did she even build a house here in the first place?

Shifting the clothes away, Tsuna delved deeper into the closet to find two wooden chests. Tsuna caressed one gently, feeling the old wood and the grooves under his hand. Carefully fingering the metal clasp, Tsuna opened the chest and gasped in surprise.

Glittering jewels and glinting metal.

The box was filled with jewellery. Like the dresses before, Tsuna quickly confirmed that they were all real.

. . .

Who had Tsuna's, no, uh, Giotto's mother been?

Closing the chest carefully (well, at least Tsuna knows where he could get more money if he needed it), Tsuna grabbed the other one and opened it as well. This one, however, did not contain priceless objects.

In fact, what was inside might have been even more valuable to Tsuna. It contained a stack of yellowing letters.

Tsuna smiled for the first time since he found himself in the body of his great-great-great-etc grandfather. Finally, he could get some much-needed answers.

. . .

Wow.

Tsuna's ancestor seemed to have much more in common with his right hand than Tsuna had originally thought.

After all, who would have thought that Giotto, the esteemed Vongola Primo, was an illegitimate child?

Giotto's mother seemed to be a wealthy noble. His father, on the other hand, was apparently a peasant.

According to the love letters (gag), the two had met when his mother had gotten lost in the forest when she ran away from her (and Tsuna quotes) 'stupid, worthless, interfering guards'. They had swiftly fallen in love at first sight, and everything in the letters was written as though they followed the most cheesiest fairytale ever.

And then Tsu― Giotto's parents' story took a darker turn. Or at least it did in the tear-stained papers of his mother's diary. What continued was a series of events that eventually led to a tragedy.

The lady became pregnant. Her father found out. He sent assassins to kill Giotto's father. They succeeded. And then, to top it off, Giotto's mother was disowned.

Even if he never knew them, Tsuna felt his heart breaking for the poor lovers who had been brutally ripped apart. How hard had it been for Giotto's mother, to take care of a child when she had been raised with so many servants? How hard would it have been for Giotto's mother to raise a child when she herself was still breaking from her lost love?

Tsuna frowned. His mother's grave needed some new flowers . . .

four weeks, two days

Keeping track of time was hard, in a way. Without meetings and school and a definite schedule, each day blurred into the next.

Tsuna kept track of time with the little journal he had found in his cottage as he looked through the drawers. He made a tally every day in the journal with the feather pen and ink he had found in the spare bedroom.

Thirty tiny scratches.

Not for the first time, Tsuna wondered how long he would stay here. And then he wondered if he would ever be able to go back . . .

Screaming, screaming, screaming―

―But really, did Tsuna even have anything to go back to?

four weeks, five days

Tsuna saw him again. His chibified Right Hand look-alike.

Tsuna was on his third food run when he saw the pink-head rushing down the street again. Quickly stepping to the side to avoid being trampled on by the running thief (poor guy, he still didn't learn how to steal properly yet), Tsuna watched as the boy gave him a quick glance.

Their eyes had met.

. . .

Tsuna tried to tell himself that it was natural for for there to be no recognition in the older child's gaze.

five weeks, one day

Tsuna could feel his jaw dropping open in surprise.

What the heck.

Uh, okay, backtracking since you would need some background information to make sense of the sudden shock. Tsuna's little hut was actually quite big, despite Tsuna continuously calling it 'little' and a 'hut'. The top floor had three rooms, Tsuna's little closet/bedroom, his mother's bedroom, and a guest room. The lower floor had a living room and a kitchen.

Tsuna had been in the living room for once, dusting the floors when his Intuition acted up. It was then did Tsuna realize that his footsteps in the living room sounded quite hollow, however, as he moved towards the center ―the hollow thuds were replaced by something different. It sounded as if they had been dampened in a away.

Tsuna immediately came to the conclusion that something was hidden underneath the wooden planks.

Armed with the sharp end of his shovel ―that had been used to dig his mother's grave, no no, don't think about that― Tsuna began to slowly remove some of the planks that had sounded more solid when he walked on them.

What he found underneath was truly surprising.

Five knives. Three swords. Two guns.

It seemed that his beautiful mommy was more than a pretty little wallflower.

A few minutes later, the floor planks were replaced (to the best of his ability, geez, Tsuna wasn't a carpenter!) and the hidden weaponry was placed in the kitchen. Tsuna began to study them carefully.

Ever since he was blasted into the past, Tsuna had continuously forgotten that he was in an era two hundred years before his own. But now, it felt as though the fact had slapped him in the face.

The guns. They were dinosaurs compared to what Tsuna was used to. One gun was small and made partly out of wood. The metal parts were rusted and the bullets were slightly misshapen. It just screamed old. The other gun was completely made out of rusting metal. It looked only slightly newer than the wooden gun, but the trigger and the other parts still looked ridiculously ancient.

The age of the knifes and swords weren't as glaring as the guns. After all, they didn't change much even after two hundred years. Other than the dullness of the blades and the slight rust, they looked to be in good condition.

Tsuna picked up a knife and eyed it thoughtfully. This was really a quite pleasant surprise.

Tsuna didn't have any Dying Will bullets or even his pills/mittens with him. His flames . . . thankfully, Tsuna could still feel wisps of it since he knew what to search for (unlike when he had been a younger Tsuna and his flames had been locked away), or else he would really be freaking out.

However, that still brought Tsuna back to the fact that he was essentially helpless. Most of the fighting styles he knew relied on his flames, and the few that didn't weren't applicable with his current five year-old body.

It was a small blessing that his Hyper Intuition seemed to still work.

Tsuna paused, contemplative. Actually, how did Giotto get his flames and Hyper Intuition? Everyone had once said that Tsuna had possessed the Vongola blood that came from Giotto. But where did Giotto get that blood? Genetic mutation? His non-existent parents?

Shaking his head, Tsuna went back to inspecting his weapons. Reborn had briefly instructed Tsuna on fighting with various types of weapons, despite his calling as a hand-to-hand and flame fighter. He had been better at using guns than knifes and/or swords (like teacher like student? Reborn did rub off on him) but now . . .

Tsuna picked up the metal gun and winced. How was he supposed to use these ancient things? There wasn't a silencer, and . . . was there even a safety?

. . .

Yeah. Maybe Tsuna should go with a knife. Small, easy to hide on his body, and his second best weapon after guns.

(Despite Takeshi's enthusiasm and skill at swordplay, Tsuna was terrible at it even after he was tutored by the best. He had always felt as if the long swords threw off his balance.)

But really, finding the weapons took a huge burden off of Tsuna's shoulders. He had been painfully aware of how vulnerable his position was: no flames, no ability to fight, no one to cover his back . . . Tsuna had long been thinking about investing in a weapon.

However, even with his awesome skills as a thief, Tsuna wasn't all too confident that he would be able to steal from a weapons' merchant. After all, usually those people had more than a few inklings about what they were selling. Unlike the regular fruit vendors or bakers, those people usually tended to be trained.

That had brought Tsuna to think about buying a weapon. But he really had not wanted to give up that much money . . .

So, finding these weapons had been quite a nice surprise. There was even a maintenance kit hidden along with the weapons, such as oil and sharpening tools.

After inspecting the knives, Tsuna picked out his favourite one and started to sharpen it. He'll have to dedicate some time from his (admittedly open) schedule to learn how to fight with them again . . .

five weeks, five days

Tsuna crept stealthily through the forest foliage.

Instead of going to the town this week (and no, it was totally not because Tsuna wanted to avoid a certain pink-head . . . ), Tsuna decided to improve his survival skills. Armed with his knife and some rope, Tsuna crouched down to make another trap.

The days were starting to get steadily chillier. Tsuna didn't have many clothes that would be able to withstand the cold for long periods of time. Soon, stealing food in the town wouldn't be a viable option if Tsuna didn't want to get severe frostbite.

That was why Tsuna was hunting in the forest. His house was surrounded by large towering trees and wildlife (for more security, perhaps?), which made it easy for Tsuna to hunt some game. Looking for edible mushrooms, berries, and other greens were quite easy too, though Tsuna was a bit more hesitant in doing that.

After all, he was two hundred years in the past. Many foods he knew in his day had evolved. Who knew if some berries that were edible in his time turned out to be poisonous now?

All the fruits he had stolen were dried out to last longer. The game that he caught (ah, it felt as if it had been forever since he had meat ―hey, stealing blood-dripping fresh meat was harder than you think, okay!?) were dried out as well and kept in the small cellar in the kitchen.

Tsuna picked a few black berries, trying to figure out if they were blueberries or if they were nightshade berries. Giving one crushed berry a cautious whiff, Tsuna nodded in confirmation. Nightshade.

Looking at the rest of the nightshade berries he picked, Tsuna frowned and decided to keep them. After all, belladona nightshade was great to use for various poisons. And his throwing knives could use something to spice them up . . .

Oh! A crash a few meters away from Tsuna made the boy look up in surprise. It seemed that something got into his animal trap number five . . .

six weeks, two days

Lean over.

Stab right.

Pivot (wobbly) on left foot.

Throw arm with knife in an arc.

Tsuna sighed as he sheathed his knife (which was really turning out to be like a dagger for tiny Tsuna) and grabbed a drink of water. He was trying to practice some katas that he remembered, but with the addition of a dagger. It really wasn't working. Tsuna needed to find another fighting style to suit him right now, because his reach was way too short and he didn't even have enough strength to do some damage.

Tsuna eyed the two guns that he set aside. Perhaps he really needed to learn how to use them . . .

six weeks, six days

The days were getting increasingly colder and Tsuna knew that soon, he wouldn't be able to make the trip to town any more (or at least until winter gave away to spring).

Bundling himself up in the warmest clothes he could find and many layers, Tsuna set out to go to the town one last time. One hour later of speed walking later, and Tsuna finally found himself at his destination.

This time, Tsuna carefully stole everything he would need to last the winter. Fruits that last the longest when dried, tea leaves and herbs that helped with different types of sicknesses . . . Tsuna even managed to grab some thick cloth that could be used to turn into winter clothing.

Some dried chicken meat and chocolate (hey! No judging, Tsuna hadn't had chocolate in forever!) later, Tsuna and his big bundle was finally ready for the trip home. However, Tsuna hesitated slightly at the town entrance.

He hadn't seen G all day. Had G left the town? Found some shelter? Just didn't want to come out that day? Even if Tsuna had wanted to avoid him ―too manymemories, memories, memories― not seeing the boy run around and cause havoc was causing Tsuna to worry. Even without meeting the boy, Primo's Right Hand already had a place within Tsuna's heart.

. . .

He bit his lip before shaking his head to clear his thoughts. Tsuna didn't see G the first time he ventured out to the Town. It wouldn't be surprising for him to miss the pink-head again.

But . . . Tsuna had wanted to see him one more time before winter came . . .

seven weeks, three days

His food supply was completely ready. Tsuna had stocked enough food to last three people in his little hut. He was still trying to get more, however, just in case something happened. That was totally why Tsuna was at the river that was in the forest, trying to fish.

Fish could be eaten fresh or dried. Tsuna didn't really have a lot of meat, only the dried chicken he had shoplifted and a deer he had caught within his trap. Fish would be good protein and if Tsuna somehow managed to run out of food, he could still go ice-fishing.

But ice-fishing was a lot more difficult than normal fishing, so that was why Tsuna was trying to catch fish before the river froze over. He had found an old fishing rod and pail and had brought along a book to read as he waited.

. . . For once, Tsuna was glad that Reborn had made him learn Italian. At least he wouldn't be immensely bored.

seven weeks, seven days

". . . Ouch." Tsuna muttered as he probed the tender blisters on his hand.

There had been some firewood in his house, but Tsuna quickly deduced that it wouldn't be enough to last the whole winter. With that conclusion, the little boy had no choice but to take an axe that was conveniently found beside the stacks of firewood he already had (thank god he didn't have to steal an axe), and go to the forest to chop up some trees.

It was a slow business, where many times Tsuna felt as though he was closer to chopping off his own head than a tree, but eventually he cut down two small trees to turn into firewood. After chopping them up into smaller blocks of wood, Tsuna spent the rest of the day going back and forth to transport the wood back to his place.

It was slow, slow work.

As he dragged the last of the wood back to his hut, Tsuna laid them down in the dying sunlight to dry them out. Thankfully, it hadn't started snowing yet, but Tsuna had no delusions that it wouldn't start snowing soon. In all honesty, Tsuna should have gone and gathered firewood earlier instead of food. Food wouldn't be helpful if you slowly froze to death, after all.

Tsuna yawned. Time to take care of his blisters and go take a well-deserved nap . . .

eight weeks, four days

It had been two days since it snowed like a blizzard. Everyone was probably celebrating inside the comforts of their homes. After all, it had been a few days after Christmas, and now it was the day before the new year. Tsuna had even planned on treating himself with some hot chocolate.

However . . .

Tsuna's Hyper Intuition had been acting up for the whole night. The little boy didn't manage to get a single wink of sleep. Tiredly shuffling downstairs to make breakfast, Tsuna froze as the unsettling feeling his Intuition had been feeding him sky-rocketed.

The blonde gasped and held onto the edge of the table. There was something wrong . . . there was something wrong outside.

Dashing to his door ―only barely managing to throw on a coat― Tsuna rushed out into the forest and let his Intuition guide him to his needed destination. None of the surroundings mattered to him, nor did the sticks and rocks that poked his body as he flew by. There was something so, so wrong, and Tsuna had to be there―

A gasp was wrenched out of his throat as Tsuna suddenly skidded to a stop, taking in the scene before him.

"No!"

A small body laid crumpled on the ground. Snow covered his pinkish red hair and the rest of his shivering body. His skin was tinted a pale blue, and multiple red and purple bruises littered it.

His chest was barely moving.

Finally getting his frozen, locked limbs to move, Tsuna dove beside G as he desperately checked for a pulse. A weak, fluttering beat greeted him and Tsuna could feel his panic rise even more.

No. No. Not G. Not Hayato. Not G.

He took off his own coat and bundled the freezing boy in it. Quivering green eyes and red red red flashed through Tsuna's mind as he hugged his precious cargo and made his way back home.

Not him, please.

{chapter i end}

AN: Inspired by some Naruto fics where Naruto woke up as Minato, haha. I've always wondered why Giotto looked so similar to Tsuna. Like, really, you'd think that after 400 years there wouldn't be any more similarities. Thus, this was born. I know I said I wanted to write only one KHR fic, but plotbunnies keep attacking me. Ugh. Anyway, this story needs a beta (my lovely KHR beta already have two of my fics under their belt, uhuhuhu), so if you are one and have some time please PM me! Thank you for reading everyone!