Iridescence

Warnings: AU, reincarnation!fic, OOC.

Sawada Tsunayoshi loved basketball.

It is a simple fact, an axiom of life, one that wasn't all that out of place, but at which many seemed to be very surprised, including Tsuna's own father.

Granted, his father – Sawada Iemitsu, a man who obviously had many skeletons in his closet, since his very body language betrayed that much and he did a sloppy job at hiding it – didn't visit much, and Tsuna only first met him when he was six months old, so that might've been the reason. After all Iemitsu didn't really know Tsuna very much, and although it was true both ways, Tsuna couldn't help but feel as if he was the one who could read his father better.

Tsuna wasn't vindictive, never had been, particularly, but he couldn't help but feel pleasure in seeing his father jump violently when he couldn't quite spot Tsuna and Tsuna would tug at his pants from behind to the former's yelps.

Well, maybe just a tiny bit vindictive.

It was an equally as satisfying sight because Tsuna has seen his father wear an expression that didn't suit a construction worker and Tsuna did not like that expression nor the hipocrisy that his father displayed. He had a certain degree of hatred towards hypocritical people.

Tsuna was an observant person.

Always had been, so obviously he couldn't miss the shadow of worry and seriousness and danger that glimmered deep in the man's eyes, even when he talked to his wife.

And Iemitsu's wife, a woman called Sawada Nana.

His mother... His mother was a very peculiar individual.

Tsuna couldn't exactly read her like he could his father – all smiles and sparkles and a complete brick wall in sense of perfect composure that no one has really been able to look past, which was mostly because no one thought there was such a defense in the first place.

And that... That reminded Tsuna of someone.

(But he wasn't really sure – he couldn't be, not with how the system works, since the people who explained that to him weren't very normal people, and no one exactly elaborated on how the whole cycle works either—)

Tsuna had watched Nana closely, staring out of the corner of his eye, catching all the expressions the woman could offer, all the signs that could betray what Tsuna was looking for, all the little things that, if true, could mean so much.

It was surprising how frustrated Tsuna could get when he stared at his mother, sometimes even unable to hide his dubious expression, in a way that made Iemitsu shiver, and all the woman would do was just blink at the child, incline her head, and then smile and coo at how adorable he looked.

Tsuna didn't like that. He was male and he couldn't look adorable – he had had enough of that already.

When Tsuna started walking, he finally pinned down what exactly made the woman surprising.

Tsuna was never able to escape her gaze.

A few observations that left Iemitsu and other people flinching at his sudden appearances, and Tsuna determined that Nana was a case of exception.

Nana thought Tsuna was good at hide'n'seek; Tsuna thought his mother had a surprisingly sharp gaze.

Apparently, his weak presence and misdirection was something that remained with him and carried over even after coming back to life again as another person.

Or maybe it was karma.

Yes, must be it.

The polite winged people who lived Upstairs and whom he severely startled when he was asking around for directions had mentioned something about it. Back then, he'd also asked them if they knew where his relatives were and they just shook their heads since they weren't on duty when they passed through, but they did mention that his grandmother already went on, about twenty years ago, which made Tsuna quite sad because he was hopeful that someone would be there to greet him on the other side.

(He wondered why two of the polite persons with halos whispered to each other something about his grandmother being quite an odd one because apparently she ignored the Rules for several cycles already. Tsuna had no idea what that was about so he didn't ask. He did smile though because his grandmother was the oddest, most understanding, and the best grandparent he ever had so he'd have to find her again in the next world—)

They'd almost forgot about him again when one remembered to ask his name and Tsuna was about to tell them when he trailed off and suddenly, quietly and without any flashiness or shock, remembered that he had had many of them already. More than he could count on his fingers, if what came back to his mind was all. The people shared a look and seemed to understand wordlessly and just asked him to tell them his name from last time.

They had been a bit startled at it, and then the oldest person in the group with six wings had chuckled and muttered something like 'so this is the one He mentioned' and had nodded as he gazed at Tsuna with eyes that Tsuna could swear saw much deeper than his thoughts, and, possibly, farther than his very essence.

The people had then showed him to a bridge and said he could take his time mingling here, or maybe even take a look at the Gardens if he wanted. One also asked him if he'd like to talk about his next life since he lived a brilliant, selfless life last time that had helped more people in more ways than Tsuna probably imagined, so he very much deserved to – but he'd declined that right away. Instead, he asked if they could tell him where his friends were, so he could somehow catch them either when they come along, or in the next time. One of the younger people was sent to find that out and had returned with the information that they already passed over. Tsuna had been a bit sad about that too, but he supposed he could catch up with them if he hurried.

They'd also explained that they really could afford to talk about his future because he wouldn't remember anything by the time he started again anyway.

Which wasn't quite right.

Maybe it was because when he waved the kind people good bye and ran for the next exit, he was supposed to go where the other people had their memories locked away – not removed, the winged people had corrected earlier, only locked away until next time, like when they go to a swimming pool and they put away their stuff into safes – and no one noticed Tsuna hadn't gotten his locked away since he didn't actually understand the procedure himself and couldn't ask anybody since everyone ignored him once again like when he was alive so he just shrugged and walked through the Gates with everyone else who were supposed to walk through and got it over with.

Tsuna wondered how Midorima-kun stomached such a thing as a possible change of zodiac signs and decided he was a bit glad he wasn't there there for the scandal.

And then Tsuna passed over, again, and that was that.

...

The young angel from before, the one who told Sawada Tsunayoshi that his friends have already passed on, was a minute too late to catch the soul and tell him of the horrendous mistake he had made when he looked up the information he asked for – they hadn't passed over yet. In fact, he was the first to cross over.

He had been in for a lot of trouble.

...

Tsuna had decided he won't complain or demand for an appellation for his case of remembering everything since he was quite content with not going through the trouble of re-learning the most basic of the quirks to living just because he's supposed to forget things like that. Potty breaks gave him enough grief as it was.

There had also been the fact that his worst bed hair from last time now looked tame in comparison to this time. He didn't understand how hair could possibly stand at such angles but then again, no one in Seirin ever understood exactly how he could get such bed hair short of washing his head and standing in a strong wind before going to bed.

At least they were a normal Asian color now, so he won't be getting questions of whether he dyed his hair or was a foreigner – though he never got noticed for long enough to be asked that the first time much, so he needn't worry about that anyway.

He was quite grateful that he didn't need to go to kindergarten since he couldn't really imagine himself interacting with kids of four and five without slipping into inappropriately senior speech.

Tsuna wanted peers.

(I want to find them—)

...

Tsuna was six when he went to school and his mother was pleasantly surprised by the fact that her little Tsu-kun was good with every subject as if he innately knew everything already, surprise surprise, even though she sometimes got complaints on the fact that her son wasn't attending which was perfect nonsense since Tsuna had a flawless attendance record. Even if he sometimes caught a cold, he still insisted with that politeness of his that Nana never quite knew the nature of that he'll still go to school.

That one time she attended an 'open doors' lesson and the teacher listed the students, he for some reason failed to mention Tsu-kun and Nana had gotten the whole class' attention, including the other parents as she walked over to the teacher and politely told him not to forget her little son who has only missed two days in the whole first two semesters.

She smiled sweetly at the teacher and made sure her expression sparkled and much to her joy, seconds after the classroom's temperature dropped to just several degrees below freezing point, the man nodded hastily and nervously corrected his glasses.

Nana didn't fail to remark that he might need a new pair and this time, no one objected because unlike kindergarten, which was voluntary and she'd let slide since Tsu-kun didn't want to go anyway, school was necessary, especially since Tsu-kun wanted to attend it.

The teacher gulped and quickly scribbled down Tsuna's name into his attendance journal. Nana nodded politely and walked back to the other parents who whispered among themselves.

Tsu-kun looked oddly shiny after that.

...

At his mother's suggestion, Tsuna had made sure to check the basketball club because, well, if he'd had any luck at all, that would probably be the only place he could find at least someone if they were around this territory. Fate was a thing right?

Most likely.

Probably.

Maybe.

He really hoped so.

(Please—)

...

He didn't find anyone.

...

Needless to say, an invisible person is never bullied.

Sawada Tsunayoshi had impeccable marks and was signed up as the library manager assistant, a position never given to grade schoolers.

Sawada Nana had once been called by the home room teacher to discuss certain things about her son.

Apparently, the teacher was worried that Tsunayoshi was too quiet these days – even quieter than usual, always reading some kind of book whenever it wasn't class-time – and didn't have proper interests, like collecting stickers, or playing video games, or at least discussing anime and manga with his peers, like normal male second graders should.

Last time around, Sawada Tsunayoshi studied English and Russian with his half-American partner for a long term coaching job.

This time, as a side, meaningless hobby, he decided to pick up Italian.

...

By the time Tsuna turned seven, his morning routine had been innocuously established by waking up at six, having breakfast with his mother who always seemed to be already up and tending to their little garden in the backyard no matter the time, jogging around the neighborhood, going to the basketball court two blocks away, practicing shooting hoops, dribbling, imagining opponents – doing all the things he hadn't had an opportunity to execute for real last time, physically.

Tsuna had at his disposal a lifetime of experience and a body different, more compliant and agile than he ever had before.

It was a rather weird sort of different – like it was made of springs and feathers, and Tsuna knew it'd never be the sort of raw power and muscles that Kagami-kun and Aomine-kun were.

The weird thing was the kind coiling, flickering heat somewhere at the edges of his awareness that he was one hundred percent sure he never had before. It just– he didn't have it.

It didn't really matter now though.

A lot of kids came by to play but they were mostly children under ten who had no sense of rules and were only dependent on the spur of the moment adrenalin. Nevertheless, Tsuna enjoyed every second of it, even if practicing passes was out of question, considering it demanded at least some semblance of coordination within teams.

Tsuna had a dismayingly small height and his hands were tiny against adult-sized basketballs which he hoped would not be a problem in the future.

Regardless of that though, it had come as a jolting surprise when he realized he was starting to move faster and faster on the court. His shots reached the hoop, and here and there he was... actually able to pull off three pointers.

That was.

That was simply amazing.

Tsunayoshi was ridiculously used to pushing himself to the absolute extremes before achieving minuscule improvements, but right now? His work was paying off.

It was considerably stifled by his age and there was still puberty to go through, but.

It felt so nice to feel that there wasn't a visible limit past which he couldn't push his body unlike before, when he struck and kicked and clawed at the wall of naturally gifted separating him from moving forward.

Right now, he could feel it in his very bones, in the back of his mind, finally he had the thing that had been endlessly told about the Miracles.

Potential.

Nana had remarked once at dinner that she'd seen Tsuna making big progress with his speed and footwork and how remarkably well-adept he seemed with techinques that were only maybe begun to be studied in pro-section in middle schools.

Tsuna had asked her if she had ever had an interest in basketball before he took it up.

(She hadn't really—)

She said she'd cheered for a high school team once.

(She really had—)

He nodded.

Plausible deniability was such a fun game in their family.

...

When he was nine, and it was a weekend and five P.M., and quite mild a weather, a group of middle schoolers walked into his court and asked if he'd like to play with them.

He had agreed the moment the words left their mouths, even before that, before they had the chance to tell him that they'd seen him use some cool moves and technique, that he'd never seemed to play with anybody else, that, somehow, the way he practiced made them feel in greedy need to play with him, the kind that only came with an unadulterated sense of love for your sport.

That they didn't care he looked six years younger than them.

They played, one hour, two hours, three, four vs four, Tsuna on the team with three other individuals – cool, nice and awkward – facing – rash, careful, laughing and snarky and a million other things that defined their psyche and manner of playing, and all the things about them Tsuna could see file in front of his eyes, people-watching has always been a favourite of his – and when they'd done tipoff, he had slipped into habit that Sawada Tsunayoshi never had.

Rusty and disused as they had been from so long a hiatus and a lack of anybody to receive, to play against, play with, his skill came rushing into his hands, into the tips of his fingers, into his bloodstream, into his feet and mind, invisible and slight, like electricity, like a blanket of comfort.

Passes flew, directed and predicted, his team found themselves with the surprising notion of constantly having a ball appear out of thin air at their very fingertips.

The sense of déjà vu prevailing in the entirety of the game was entirely too overbearing.

He was invisible.

The breaking point of the game in which the count had been long lost had come when all of a sudden, in the midst of screeching sneakers and the thud of the ball against concrete, a stark clarity of slow motion overcame Tsuna. A feeling of liquid fire mixed with adrenalin and crystallized by the state of his mind during a game, it burned and writhed and came forward from the backs of his mind, and the evening glinted orange.

He was- heading for the– for the—

The flickering warmth lashed out in strings of invisible flames.

He jumped.

The wind soughed along with the gasps of shocked teens.

The ball slammed through the hoop with a sound of rubber stretching. Tsuna, exactly one hundred thirty centimeters, hung onto the metal ring, more out of his own shock and surprise, and looked down the two and a half meters that he had just overcome.

The view looked beautiful in all the ways that even Kagami-kun probably couldn't fathom.

It was a beauty in its novelty.

(Finally—)

(Finally I can—)

(I can see—)

...

(I want to play with them—)

...

In the shower back at home, he was surprised to see his hand singed but not burned.

He wrote that off as newly developing basketball callouses.

...

Tsuna thought that with his life he wouldn't have any time for thoughts, but it seemed he didn't really need much sleep despite being a child again and he'd find himself alone with himself at night. It was at those times when he'd lie in his bed, stare at the ceiling and impassively watch the stream of thoughts flit through his head that the questions started creeping into his head.

Tsuna wondered where his friends went. So far, he supposed he and his mother were exceptions to carry on with his memories intact, so...?

It was painful to realize that if he ever came across any of his friends again, it was quite certain they wouldn't remember him. If they've already come back to this world, they might actually be... different people.

(Akashi-kun, exactly how can Akashi-kun be any different, or Kise-kun, or Aomine-kun, or Murasakibara-kun, or Kagami-kun, or- or anyone—)

He'd lie wide awake at night because behind his expressionless façade, behind the face of a young person, Tsuna was scared. His friends were someone he treasured as his own family and now they must be all scattered beyond his reach and what if they didn't even want to come back? Would Tsuna ever see them again at all?

(Reincarnation isn't exactly fair like that—)

He'd fall asleep to troubling thoughts and wake up with a slightly gloomier air than usual but it wasn't usually noticeable in his expression. He'd go to the court and shoot and dribble and play with imaginary opponents and just maybe, the thud of the ball colliding against the hoop was slightly louder, more violent than usual. More desperate.

Tsuna was alone in the court.

The people Upstairs had told him he shouldn't cling to his past but his friends were not his 'past' – he wasn't going to discard them just because he got another life. Otherwise, the whole definition of 'friends' lost it's meaning and just became a farce, an illusion that really does end with one's life.

How unfair would that be?

Tsuna would eat breakfast, go to school, be marked as absent, scare the living spirit out of his teacher when he reminded him he was there – Izuki-kun would've been proud of that one; Tsuna wanted to silently strangle himself for even thinking of that – then get his good marks, go back home, eat dinner, go upstairs, do his homework, go back downstairs, tell his mother that he was going to go out for a bit, miss that odd look she gave him when he wasn't looking, walk over to the playground, and then sit on the swings with a ball in his lap for the rest of the evening and stare up at the evening sky.

The wind ruffled his hair gently as his shoulders shook.

(I want to see them again—)

A/N: shhhh. we'll see Hibari soon enough, and the rest of the rainbow idiots. also I'll try incorporating lots more khr element do not worry.

if you have any comments whatsoever on how long it took me to update them don't bother i won't read them.

i will post when i can and when i think the content is acceptable to present.

i'll go and eat something sweet now.

P.S. EVERYTHING IS INTENDED. THE FACT THAT NOT EVERYTHING IS CLEAR IS INTENDED TOO. ALL THE TIMELINES HAVE BEEN ACCOUNTED FOR UNLESS THEY HAVEN'T BEEN. toodles