The Suicide Kid

Chapter 1: The Suicide Kid (Prologue)

THE SUICIDE KID

Charles Bukowski, 1920 - 1994

I went to the worst of bars

hoping to get

killed.

but all I could do was to

get drunk

again.

worse, the bar patrons even

ended up

liking me.

there I was trying to get

pushed over the dark

edge

and I ended up with

free drinks

while somewhere else

some poor

son-of-a-bitch was in a hospital

bed,

tubes sticking out all over

him

as he fought like hell

to live.

nobody would help me

die as

the drinks kept

coming,

as the next day

waited for me

with its steel clamps,

its stinking

anonymity,

its incogitant

attitude.

death doesn't always

come running

when you call

it,

not even if you

call it

from a shining

castle

or from an ocean liner

or from the best bar

on earth (or the

worst).

such impertinence

only makes the gods

hesitate and

delay.

ask me: I'm

72.

Because she took her own life, they had given her a second chance. Because that was proper punishment, to not give death to the girl that wanted it, needed it. Killed herself for it.

And so the suicide kid became the kid who had the potential to live another life.

New.

Reborn.

A life in which they knew she would be forced to love, to care.

A life in which she deserved

family, friends, loved ones: people to live for.

After all, she deserved nothing less than the life she was born into.

Because she was one of those, a suicide kid, the suicide kid, and

well, does the name need to be explained?

Nana Sawada's child was born with sad eyes and remained that way. Tsunayoshi Sawada only cried when they was born and after that

silence.

Iemitsu would often try to play with his precious baby boy, and would always fail, and the child would stare at him, sadly, knowingly, already having given up on their life before they could even walk.

It was sad.

But Nana was still happy.

"Oh, it's just how he is," Nana would say with a sweet smile and tilt of her head, and pick up her child and smile, smile, smile at them, "isn't that right, Tsuna-kun?" And the baby would stare back, sad, sad, sad.

Timoteo retained the same opinion as Iemitsu. The child had no will, it seemed, and he would stare at it, and they would stare back, sad, sad, sad.

And so, he never sealed their flames, because he felt no resolve in them. And at this time, it was true that they didn't have one. Because they never wanted to live in the first place.

Iemitsu was worried, but Nana was happy.

"Oh, he'll grow out of it," she would say, holding their child and nestling them lovingly, but the child would just stare with those sad brown eyes, and…. nothing. There was nothing in them.

But Iemitsu would laugh and nod and agree. For Nana. Because at least, she was happy.

And nothing would really happen until Iemitsu began working more, and spent less and less time with his family until it stopped completely.

And Nana would dress Tsunayoshi cutely and call them "my darling baby boy" and Tsunayoshi would blink heavily and stare at their mother with those sad, sad, sad eyes.

And nothing.

Until Nana put her child to bed one night, and sighed. Sadly.

"Tsunayoshi," she said, caressing their face softly, frowning, no longer happy. No longer smiling for the sake of her child because what was the point if they never smiled back? Never did anything?

"Mama wants you to know that she loves you," Nana said, sad, sad, sad, "I love you so much, Tsunayoshi, and I want you to know that."

And then something changed.

A message got through, and those sad, sad, sad eyes changed.

Because perhaps in her past life, the suicide kid wasn't loved, and maybe that's why she killed herself, and maybe that was why she was so sad, sad, sad now.

But that was in a past life.

That was when she killed herself, when she was the suicide kid. And she still was, and yet, and yet

And yet the suicide kid left inside of Tsunayoshi Sawada, that was Tsunayoshi Sawada began to cry, and then Tsunayoshi began to wail, and cry, and wail and cry,

because it was that moment they realized that there was at least one person in their life that loved them. That truly loved them.

And Tsunayoshi cried and wailed, and cried, and Nana cried too, because her child was finally reacting. Her child was finally living.

And she picked up her child and held them close to her and promised and promised and swore that she would never let them go.

Because Nana Sawada loved her child more than anything.

And Tsunayoshi knew this now.

Tsunayoshi Sawada was three years old when she told her mother that she was a girl.

"I'm a girl, Mom. I don't feel like a boy," she told her mother plainly, after scrunching her nose in distaste when one of her mother's friends had claimed that Tsunayoshi would grow in a handsome young man. And Nana Sawada blinked down at her child, and smiled:

"Okay! Would you like me to call you Tsuna-chan, then?"

And her daughter nodded in response.

Nana had made a habit of torturing her daughter by way of clothing.

"But Tsuna-chan, you look so cute in dresses!" And her daughter would puff her checks slightly, and draw her eyebrows together and pout. And Nana would giggle, because now she looked even more adorable. And she was reacting, and she rarely reacted to anything, and yet

with Nana, with her mother, she would react to her mother because she loved her. But she didn't love how her mother liked to dress her.

And so it wasn't surprising that as soon as Tsuna could dress herself, she would always wear pants and jackets, and clothes made for the male gender, but Tsuna didn't really care, because she didn't want to think about those things, and Nana didn't much care either, because even though Tsuna looked adorable in dresses, Nana firmly believed that her daughter would look cute in whatever she chose to wear, because it was her body and her choice, and the boys would certainly be pining after her no matter what.

"Or girls, of course," Nana added, smiling softly and nodding a bit. And Tsuna cheeks twinged pink and her head shot up to glare accusingly, embarrassingly up from across their small table.

"Mom." And Nana giggled, bringing a delicate hand to cover her mouth.

"I would support you either way, Tsuna-chan!" She assured her daughter happily, as her daughter grumbled and slumped further and muttered about how she didn't even like anyone right now, much less think about which gender she preferred.

But Nana wasn't surprised when Tsuna came up to her a week later and confessed that she liked girls, because a mother always knows, and a mother is always supportive of their child.

And they were close. So close, so close, and Nana was happy, and Tsuna was a little happy, but that would be using it rather loosely.

Tsuna was simply living for her mother. To make Nana happy. And that was fine for now.

Nana was proud of every little thing her daughter did.

Her little artist, she would say when given a bad test grade, seeing doodles all over the paper instead of the required work, and that made Tsuna feel weird, but in a good way, and so she kept doodling, and drawing, and grew up with a pen or pencil in her hand, doodling and drawing on every surface she could just to see Nana's proud face.

And eventually, she wasn't actually that bad, and as she grew she got better.

"I don't know," Tsuna replied to her mother one night, after being asked what she wanted to be when she grew up, her voice rather lethargic, her movements rather lethargic as she picked at her food, "Maybe a tattoo artist? A game designer?" And Tsuna nearly jumped as Nana clapped her hands.

"That's wonderful, Tsuna-chan!" Nana sang, tilting her head and resting it on her intertwined hands, smiling, smiling, smiling, "my little artist!"

And Tsuna blinked at her mother and got that feeling again, and gave a soft smile, because it made her mother happy.

And so she kept working on her art instead of other school work, because that didn't really matter, that didn't make her mother happy, and so why bother trying at anything else?

And because she didn't try at anything else, even though she had potential, her teachers told her, if she actually tried and applied herself. But she didn't because Tsuna was a firm believer in not exerting herself.

She was a firm believer of not doing what she didn't want to do, and a firm believer in not telling others to do anything, and letting them do what they wanted and being themselves, because Tsuna was just accepting that way.

Even though not trying and being lazy meant failing grades and earned her the nickname of 'no-good-Tsuna', and it meant that she didn't care about her appearances and would get 'punished' for her messy, unkempt uniform,

it was worth it

seeing her mother click her tongue lightly at her scuffed up appearance and then sit her down and tend to her small wounds and then smile, and run a hand through her hair and say lightly,

"You should do better Tsuna-chan! But," she would also add, "Mama still loves you."

and her mother still loved her when she continued to lie and say that she was clumsy when she was getting beat up at school for being late, or being out of uniform, or just because she was 'no-good-Tsuna' (or for worse, for worse, for worse).

Her mother still loved her when her fashion outside of school became more punk and rebellious, and her mother still loved her when she shaved off half her hair and pierced her ears, and pierced her ears again, and again, because Tsuna was just expressing herself and still her little artist and beautiful no matter what.

Her mother still loved her despite her awful grades, and despite the fact that she didn't talk to anyone at school, and thus had no friends, and despite the frequent phone calls home because Tsuna skipped school often.

Her mother still loved her because Tsuna was her precious daughter.

And Tsunayoshi loved her back, because the suicide kid was finally loved for once.

And she would wake up each morning and drag herself out of bed, and go to her desk and write down on a fresh piece of paper her reasons to live, and every morning it would be the same:

Reasons to Live Today:

1. Mom

And the suicide kid would live for her mother's sake and her sake alone.

What she didn't know, what she couldn't even fathom was that her list of reasons to live would grow tremendously,

and all thanks to a certain home tutor.

AN:

So, like, I really shouldn't be doing this yet, but here I am.

Doing it.

Because I hate myself or something? Eh.

So, I put this poem first, because it's really the one that inspired me, and I just love Bukowski in general. There will be a poem each chapter, some of my favorites and then some written by me. I've had this idea swishing around for a while, and I just felt the need to write it, and so I did. This story is pretty important me too, so it felt good to write it down.

Let me know what you think!

And if you like this, you should definitely check out my other story What Her Mother Told Her, because unlike Life as Cloud, it's serious like this one, and is written in the same prose-like style.

Thanks!

-Evenly

Edit: So I've been thinking for a while that it was a huge fucking cop-out to change Tsuna into a cis female for this story, because why? Like there's no reason, if this Tsuna wants to be a girl, she's a girl, not matter what body she's born with. So yeah, transgirl-Tsuna. Her pronouns are she/her by the way. I kept them neutral in the beginning because she didn't really know yet then, and to kind of distinguish this Tsuna from the Suicide Kid, who was almost separate then until both came together to form the Tsuna that is the main character of the story now.