Tsuna has always been different than the other children at school.

Tsuna hates it. He hates being different. He hates being weak and stupid. His body has always been fragile and more viable to illness, so he can't participate in sports or tiring activities. It takes him longer to understand the material they're covering at school, so he drags behind the rest of the class. He's even been nicknamed "Dame-Tsuna" for his inability to do anything right.

It's not fair.

It's hard to concentrate during class. He tries to focus on the words on the board but he's distracted by the different colors glaring at him around the room. Sometimes the colors flick in and out, changing or shifting into another color. Numbers rapidly count down around his classmates' bodies.

One of his peers is helping pass out papers. When he reaches Tsuna, Tsuna deliberately avoids touching the other's skin.

Sometimes it hurts when he touches someone, as if he's being slammed into violently or like he's hit his head hard enough to bleed. Other times it feels like he's gasping for air, struggling to breathe, and then it's gone when he takes his hand away.

It's always been like that, and Tsuna gets used to it; that doesn't mean he likes it.

The bell rings, signaling the end of the day. Tsuna shoulders his bag, ducking his head and making his way out of the elementary school as quickly as he can.

His feet trudge along the road as he walks home. There's a pounding in his head that makes him wince, and he's desperate to get home and take some headache medicine.

He feels dizzy and nauseous. He wants to curl up in a ball and never get up. Today had been a particularly bad day. He'd accidently brushed against a group of girls as they passed each other, and a flash of red had crossed his vision and a high pitched scream had echoed in his ears. His leg felt like it was crushed and it felt as if his ribs had been broken.

He spent twenty minutes crying in the bathroom before showing up late to his class.

Thankfully, he had managed to avoid any bullies. Those were always the worst times. They liked to pin him down and punch him, and the experience was always filled with flashing lights and pleas for help and pain pain pain—

He stops in front of his house, staring at the extra car in his driveway.

He enters his house cautiously, muttering "I'm home," before there's a squeal of "Tuna-fish!" and he suddenly being picked up and twirled.

A blast resonates through his ears, and there's a moment of absolute pain before it's muted and he's surrounded in darkness. He winces as his vision focuses back to the present.

His father notices his wince and the blinding grin wavers for a moment. Then he's put down and he's rambling in his ear.

It seems Iemitsu had gotten some free time off and had brought along his boss.

Tsuna isn't impressed.

His mother smiles at him when she sees him but refrains from touching him. Tsuna is grateful.

"This is my son, Tsunayoshi!" His father is saying, forcing Tsuna to turn and focus on the aging man in front of him.

The man smiles kindly, and Tsuna thinks he looks nice.

"Hello, Tsunayoshi-kun," he says gently. "I'm Timoteo. It's a pleasure to meet you." He holds out his hand.

Tsuna stills, feeling sick, before forcing his hand into Timoteo's palm. He's hoping it will be quick and painless since he's already so old-looking.

The man's hand gripped his firmly, and a thousand bloody images flash past his eyes.

Tsuna quickly extracts his hand, offering a polite "Nice to meet you too," before bolting upstairs to lock himself in the upstairs bathroom.

He heaves into the toilet for a few minutes before flushing it and brushing his teeth.

He tells his mother that he isn't feeling well and she gives him an airy smile. He excuses himself while the two men tell him that they hope he feels better soon.

He avoids the old man for the rest of the time he is there.

/

Tsuna has always remembered being able to see and feel things that he shouldn't. At first, he didn't understand what he was seeing and feeling, and he just assumed everyone else had the same powers.

Eventually he realized that he was the only one who could do such a thing.

When he touched a person, he would feel the pain of their death and see what they would see in their last few moments. Colorful numbers would buzz around others' bodies, twirling around them intricately. Tsuna had found that the more colorful the numbers were, the longer they had to live. The brightest color he had seen so far was a mixture of bright yellow and orange. When someone was about to die very soon, their numbers would turn a flat gray.

Sometimes the numbers would change colors. As far as Tsuna could tell, it was because the time of their death was always changing due to their actions; what they ate, who they were friends with, etc.

If Tsuna focused hard enough, he would be able to make out the swirling numbers and tell when a person was going to die. Tsuna didn't know how to explain it, but it seems that once he concentrated on the numbers his mind automatically unraveled the code surrounding them.

It was difficult to pay attention with all the numbers and colors flying around. They caught his sight and suddenly he would be falling down or answering a question incorrectly. He couldn't stay focused on the teacher long enough to learn anything. He had given up on finding any solutions and had let himself fall into a dull routine of barely trying each day.

Tsuna had grown so accustomed to death that, at times, he felt as if death would be easier than living like this every day.

/

A few years passed and Tsuna definitely looked like it had done its toll on him.

The thirteen-year-old stared blankly at his reflection. There were dark circles underneath his eyes and his hair was limp. His skin was pale and he looked tired. He was skinny and petite – practically the shortest in the class. He had stopped eating a lot after he met a slightly chubby man who had died after stuffing himself with food during a hotdog-eating contest.

Maybe he should skip today? His mother would be disappointed with him though. He had already missed several days this month and if he kept it up Hibari-san would come after him.

Tsuna had managed to avoid Hibari for years now. Knowing the violent Disciplinary President, he would have a bloody and painful death.

Sighing, he decided he might as well go.

/

He ends up leaving halfway through the day.

"Tsu-kun, you left early again?"

His mother is standing in his doorway, looking sad.

"Yes," he answers simply.

"What are you going to do with your life?" she asks. "I'm not saying you have to go to a good high school or college, you know, but I want you to live your life happily!"

Tsuna doubts he will ever be able to live happily with the way soft pink and blue numbers are buzzing around his mother.

"Hm," he hums uninterestedly.

"...That's why, a home tutor is coming today!" his mother continued cheerfully.

Tsuna's stomach drops. "Home tutor?!"

"There was an interesting flyer in the mailbox!"

Tsuna stares at the letter his mother gives to him.

Will raise your kid to be the new leader of the next generation. Grade and subject doesn't matter.

Reborn

...It sounds like a scam.

"Ciaossu!"

There's a baby standing in his room.

"...Who are you?"

"Hm? I'm the home tutor, Reborn."

Tsuna deadpans.

Then he notices something. The numbers around Reborn are strange. They flicker down to zero quickly before flying up to numbers as high as seven trillion. At some points the numbers just freeze randomly. The colors flash between dead black and blinding yellow.

Tsuna gets a migraine just from looking at him.

There's something that's not right with this child. Speaking of which, Tsuna doesn't really believe he's a "child" either.

Tsuna wanted him out.

"I don't need a home tutor," he says, eyes trained on the letter in order to avoid turning his gaze to the small child look-a-like.

"Oh? According to my information you're only passing in two classes. Do you really not need a tutor?"

Tsuna has that sick feeling in his gut again. This is definitely not a baby.

"I don't care. I don't want you here."

Tsuna is barely aware that he is shaking.

"Now, Tsu-kun, I know you don't like it but you really need one you know."

"Exactly, Dame-Tsuna. Sawada-san, why don't you leave us alone so we can get to know each other?"

He distantly hears his mother telling Reborn to call her Maman before she shuts the door.

They're alone now.

Tsuna doesn't say anything, just stares at his shaking hands.

Finally, Reborn breaks the silence.

"My true line of work is assassination."

Why? Why did this have to happen to him?

"My real job is to make you a mafia boss."

Tsuna's hand clench into fists. His nails dig into his palms, and he feels his skin break and blood well up through the cuts.

"Get out."

"Excuse me?" Tsuna doesn't have to look up to recognize the twinge of surprise in Reborn's voice.

"I said get out!"

Tsuna's eyes finally look up to meet the not-child's black ones. He's aware that he looks pathetic right now. He's panting deeply and there are already tears welling in his eyes.

Tsuna knows that Reborn isn't lying to him. This person is really an assassin. And if he was really here to train him to be a mafia boss...

Tsuna already had enough trouble trying to avoid the amount of death he witnessed on a normal day. If he got involved with the mafia, he had no doubt that he would be in a constant state of blood and headaches and death death death—

Tsuna doesn't want to live like that.

The last thing he sees before he passes out from hyperventilating is Reborn's shocked gaze.

/

Tsunayoshi Sawada is nothing like the file said.

According to the report he had received, Tsuna was shy and clumsy and always messing up. He skipped school regularly and tended to avoid interaction of any kind. He was failing almost all of his classes and he was bullied. He had migraines daily and even had prescripted medication for them. He didn't have any friends. He was happiest when he was reading his manga alone in his room. He had some skills in cooking but that was pretty much the only thing he could do right.

What the file had not said was the way Tsuna was always tired, waking up from nightmares almost every night. It didn't say anything about the way he avoided physical contact or how pained he looked whenever he got a migraine. There was nothing about his extreme wariness of meeting new people or how Tsuna was clever enough to recognize that Reborn wasn't a baby. Either that or Tsuna's Hyper Intuition was already extremely high. The file said nothing about the miserable, dull outlook he had. The way he didn't like looking at anyone and how it had nothing to do with being shy.

When Reborn had been assigned with the task of training a civilian into the Vongola Decimo, he had expected some pathetic kid who was noisy and annoying. He didn't think he would arrive to find a frightened boy who seemed to have extreme anxiety and possibly even depression. He might even have an eating disorder since Tsuna was so small and barely seemed to eat.

None of this information had been in his file. Of course, Iemitsu had written it so he shouldn't have been surprised.

Something was wrong with Tsuna and he intended to find out what it was.

my first khr fic! it was fun to write ww
this is going to be a side fic for me since im already focused on my ao no exorcist story, but i will be continuing this
i'd love to hear what you have to say so please review!