Chapter One

0 years old

I died at twenty-one years old on a sunny Saturday morning.

I didn't recall much about my death, just that little tidbit. Couldn't even remember how I died and who was the idiot who killed me - because I obviously couldn't die that young without being killed.

Well, dying young kind of sucked, really, but I surprisingly didn't regret much. My parents had died a few years back and I already made peace with that fact a long time ago. My brother had a stable job and a beautiful, caring wife, so there weren't many worries on that part. I didn't have a lover either, much less a spouse or a child, so I wasn't leaving much behind. But speaking of children…

My only regret would be leaving behind the children in the daycare I working in. I could only hope that the news of my untimely demise would be broken gently to them. Many of them were attached to me, after all.

Well, I wasn't glad to go, but I wasn't tragically and unconsollable sad either. Neither was I angry, really. The thing that pissed me off was the after-death situation. What happened post-mortem.

Basically, I walked towards the light only to be engulfed in terrifying darkness, where I couldn't move a muscle. Not even to bat an eyelash. I'll be perfectly frank with you; I was terrified.

When I saw the light again, I cried. Really. I couldn't see much, though, just blurred figures moving about. And then…

"Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Sawada! He's a healthy baby boy!"

Wait, what?

Long story short, I had been reincarnated. Obviously, someone up there messed up and I had to pay for it.

I did not die for this rubbish.

Needless to say, I was not a happy camper.

I soon found out that my new life was to be spent in Japan. Namimori, Japan, to be specific. Something about the place rung alarm bells in my head, but whatever it was just skittered around the edges of my conscious thought, eluding me, so I put it aside in favour of sleeping.

I had to thank the heavens above that I didn't need to learn to comprehend a new language. When I had been younger - well, in my past life, that is - my brother had dragged me with him to learn the Japanese language and culture. I probably was a bit rusty due to the lack of language usage, but it probably wouldn't be much of a problem. What was a problem was…

"This is our house, Tsunayoshi!-kun" my new mother said to me.

… why my name gave me a horrid foreboding feeling.

One years old

The first year was torture, basically. I hated being so reliant on other people, especially after living alone for so long. On the other hand, it was also quite nice to be taken care of again. Kind of. I don't know, my brain was a conflicting mess of adult irritation and childish dependence.

My mother was a little scatterbrained, though. Sometimes, she would forget to feed me. Usually, I rectified the situation with loud wailing. However, I tried to cut down on it when I saw that her eyes were red. She was crying too, but why?

Two years old

When I stopped sleeping for at least eighty percent of the day, I began to notice a very disturbing lack of my father. In my past life, I wasn't very close to my dad. I was hoping to rectify this situation in my new life, but it seemed that this couldn't be the case.

I just hoped that my new father, whoever he was, had a good explanation of the long absences. Not that it would excuse his actions. Now all I could do was try to make my mother's life easier. Being a single mother can never be easy.

Three years old

You're kidding, you're kidding, you're kidding.

This cannot be happening. These things don't happen. You don't just… One doesn't just… You can't…

These things don't happen.

I stared at the bright orange, not burning hot flames in my hand in horror. In my past life, I never was much of an anime fan. In fact, I didn't really watch anime in general. But how could I forget this?

That one anime that my brother loves - loved, my traitorous mind corrected, he's not here anymore - had something about colourful fire and people named after Tokugawa shogun (Iemitsu, my father. Tsunayoshi, my own name), and finally Mafia.

Somehow, sometime, I was going to become a Mafia boss.

I slowly fell to my knees. Mafia… they were the bad guys, weren't they? Drug deals, human trafficking… I remembered my brother mentioning that there were even child experimentation involved.

As someone who a lifetime taking care of children, I couldn't think of any reason why people could hurt them. Really, people who hurt children were horrid and I wouldn't want anything to do with them. The Mafia was cruel and ruthless and would definitely discard anyone who was useless.

… discard those who are useless…?

Wait, that could be the answer! If I acted like a totally useless person, they would just discard me for a better heir! As long as I acted as someone invisible, someone who could be overlooked, they would definitely leave me alone. It shouldn't be too bad. I used to be one of the most invisible students to ever exist in my school, after all. (Once upon a life ago, the voice whispers, in a time long past and a future that would never exist. I tell it to shut up. It wouldn't do any good to think about these things now.)

Of course, I need to pick up basic self-defense here and there too. Just in case.

Five years old

I didn't know fighting could be so cathartic. I didn't have to think much, yet my brain went into overdrive at the same time.

Duck, punch, roll, he's guarding his left it's weak hit it.

I never indulged in fighting in my past life. It was something new here, something that would not remind me of a time long past, a world that didn't exis- I quickly shut that thought off as I blocked a punch. However, my distracting thoughts cost be a precious second and that was enough for my opponent to gain an upper hand against me.

Jump- shit! Can't block!

My opponent kicked me in the legs and I fell, landing in a weird position. Goddammit I must've twisted my ankle. The rest of the day is ruined.

Looks like I'll be going home sooner than usual. Sigh.

I can't believe I forgot.

I stared up at the face of the seemingly nice old man standing in my house. I mustn't be disarmed by his warm, grandfatherly smile. This guy is still a Mafia boss, a man who ordered the deaths of people in cold-blood.

If it's to save the lives of his precious people, could it really be that bad?

I shook my head to clear my thoughts. I didn't want to be a Mafia boss. I shouldn't even be thinking about it.

Won't you do the same, if only to protect the children? Your brother?

Shut. Up.

"Good afternoon, Nono," I said in a soft tone. I tried to take a step forward but fell due to my twisted ankle. Damn, I forgot about it. I bit back a sigh as I lay on the ground, contemplating the failure that was my existence. But I guess, this wasn't so bad. This would most definitely keep this… Mafioso from choosing me as his heir.

"Tsu-kun! Papa's here!" my mother's cheerful voice called from inside the house. I quickly scrambled up and ran in. While I disapproved of my father's choice of work, and the fact that he didn't come home often, it wasn't like he could just leave the Mafia and come home, expecting everything to be fine.

(You can't just leave the Mafia like that.)

It might be better for him to just stay in Italy and get rid of threats before they could even reach mother and me. Throughout the five years of my life, I've never even felt the slightest assassination attempt. That's got to count for something, right?

(You just don't want to hate him.)

(He's my father. I don't want to hate my father.)

(Is he really?)

(...)

I pushed away my conflicting thoughts and ignored the piercing pain in my ankle to give my father a large smile. Seeing how his face brightened made it worth it.

(Is it really?)

Seven years old

There's a nice boy in my neighbourhood. I see him every time mother and I go get sushi (from this amazing sushi store, by the way. Takesushi. Damn, they should pay me for advertising, I'm such a good adviser) he'd be there. I think his name is Yamamoto Takeshi. He was always smiling and cheerful. It was nice to be in his presence. It was like all your worries was cleansed from you.

Right. That was a weird description. Ignore me.

Anyway, like I said, he had the most breathtaking smile. But recently, it stopped. I didn't mean he stopped smiling; I meant that his smiles stopped being nice to look at. They didn't reach his eyes, making them the worst smiles in the world.

(You shouldn't force yourself to smile like that.)

I wanted to approach him, I really did, but I wasn't one to make half-assed friendships. I didn't want to drag innocents with me if I ever go into the Mafia world. Yamamoto had black hair and brown eyes, hardly unique enough colouring to be considered a main character in an anime.

It was kind of lonely, but I was okay with it.

(You're scared.)

I was totally okay with it. I couldn't have friends if I wanted to be invisible.

(Afraid of death, are you?)

I didn't need friends. I had my mother and she was enough. Right?

Nine years old

A boy, one or two years older than my physical self, jogs by my house every morning. And by morning, I mean ungodly hours of the day. I know that because he shouts out loud every now and then and wakes me up.

His sunny disposition is kind of refreshing. Personally, I feel that he is someone I wouldn't mind being friends with. Also, he has white hair, hardly common colouring. He probably became one of the main characters, or main supporting characters, at least. But… I still couldn't approach him. I…

(I'm scared.)

I don't want to lose this detachment I had. If I started to branch out to other people, if I started to care for other people, I would start believing that this was my life.

(Isn't it?)

I… I've already died. This life…

(I see how it is now. You're afraid to die, and you're afraid to live. Hah. What a way to exist.)

(You really are pathetic, Dame-Tsuna.)

(I guess so, huh?)

Author's note:

It kept bouncing in my head and I needed to get it out. Unbetaed. I hope there's no mistakes.

Also can this person be considered as Tsuna? Idk. I consider them as Tsuna.

"You are afraid to die, and you're afraid to live. What a way to exist."

― Neale Donald Walsch, Home with God: In a Life That Never Ends

There, now hopefully lawyers won't come after me.