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Part 38 of Tumblr Archive
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Reincarnated as a existing character
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Published:
2020-12-04
Completed:
2021-01-01
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2,662
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2/2
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Misplaced

Summary:

She wasn't lost, she just wasn't where they left her.

Notes:

I hope you enjoy this! I am having fun just inventing it on the go.

Double update today because I felt like it.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Chapter 1

Chapter Text

(Wildness)

Mamoru supposes she should feel something, guilt maybe. Sadness. Something other than acceptance. But she doesn't and she can't find it in herself to force it. This world, so similar and yet so different than what she used to know, is dull. Boring in a way she can't quite stand and left with no anchors, the obvious conclusion is to drift. Mamoru is ten, yes. That much is true. And in this world ten is such a young age.

Not as Mamoru remembers. When five was old enough for training and simple missions and ten meant half a lifetime on the battlefield, hands stained by blood and nose as sharp as her ancestors’. But these are not the wildlands of the Hatake Clan, up on the mountains where the snow is thick and the cold merciless. This isn't even Konohagakure, with its too green forests and far too humid hair.

This is Namimori, with endless unprotected houses and no wall to keep the threats at bay. Mamoru supposes she should like it, the peace, the lack of missions, the time. She hates it, instead. Hatakes are the best trackers, that's true and Mamoru used to be the best one of her generation. Right up until the moment she died, surrounded by her own blood on the battlefield and leaving behind a little brother, and perhaps a cousin. If he made it back. 

Her pack was getting smaller each day. 

But wolves do not track simply for fun, they track to hunt, to keep stock of their territory. And so did Mamoru. That's who she is, deep in her bones. Wolves are not dogs, for all they're related. There's more wildness to them, far too little domestication. Mamoru is not content to stay in this territory, with no hunt and no pack, and waste away on the whims of a mother who either cannot or won't see her and a father who may or may not be dead.

"Mama," she calls and ignores the fact that the woman is far too immersed in her own happy cooking to listen. Nana lives in a phantasy world of her own making. "I'm leaving."

"Oh!" Mamoru is almost surprised when Nana stops to beam at her. "My little Tsu, making friends!" Friends? Mamoru said nothing of the sort. "Here! Take a bento with you."

Mamoru allows it, for sentimentality's sake. She has no intention to come back, she might as well give the woman this.

(The civilian)

Reborn knows something is wrong the moment the door is answered. Originally, he was going to send a pamphlet beforehand but Nana doesn't check her mail. Strange, and worrying, but not enough to ring alarm bells. Still, Nana's face at seeing a child on her door, or who she assumes to be a child, Reborn thinks, bitterly, is telling. 

Worry, yes. That's common. Guilt, right after, which is less so and Reborn needs to know the reason. The protectiveness is easily ignored after that. "Chaos," he greets, letting none of it show on his face. "I'm here to tutor your daughter." A mafia princess, at any other time, Reborn's own code would ensure him being gentler with her. But this particular Donna has a target on her back, judging by the brothers before her. And Donnas have more to worry about than fistfights. 

His student will be able to stand up for herself, to geld any man with even the slightest intention of forcing anything on her. If that means he needs to be harsher on her than on Dino, or Bianchi before him, then so be it.

The look of grief, of bitter resentment on Nana’s face stops him short, attention sharpening on the woman before him. She wrestles herself back on control, smiles at him, strained but still welcoming, “I see, dear. And who sent you?”

“Iemitsu,” Reborn delivers because there’s no use in name-dropping the Vongola Ninth on a civilian. “I have a letter from him if you’d like to see it.”

“No,” Nana gestures him inside and this time, her smile is full of teeth. “No need, come on in, Reborn, there’s much we need to talk about.”

Reborn ignores the edge of warning, there’s very little if anything at all that this woman could do to him. Instead, he takes in the house, the obsessive cleaningness on it, the extra food, wasted away and discarded. The absolute lack of any sign that would betray the presence of a fourteen-year-old teenager on the house. “Mrs Sawada, where is your daughter?”

“Well, dear,” Nana sets a cup of tea in front of him, suddenly looking far too worn, “isn’t that the question?”

(Shisho)

The chill of the mountain air is pleasing on her skin. Mamoru breathes deeply, leaving her coat against the wood. Her teacher is as immovable as the rocks surrounding them, only shifting slightly to show his acceptance of her presence. Silence surrounds them for a long time.

"Shisho," Mamoru murmurs, noticing when the man begins to stir from his meditation, "I'm being hunted." It's an interesting thing, almost exciting if a little inconvenient. 

"You?" Her shisho doesn't move from where he is, breathing still slow and measured. "Or Sawada Tsunayoshi?" 

"Isn't that one and the same?" Mamoru teases, despite knowing what he means. "Sawada Tsunayoshi, of course. It turns out, the pack wants me after all."

"Want and need are two different things," her shisho cautions. 

True, Mamoru supposes, though in this case that makes no difference. "They can hunt Sawada Tsunayoshi all they want, that trail is four years cold."

"Overconfidence gets you killed."

She inclines her head in concession, "Reborn, if my sources are correct." 

"Ah," her teacher's lips twitch. "I believe I've heard of this. In that case, Viper will find you."

Viper? "The Varia?" Mamoru wonders why it surprises her. Slowly, she begins the process of braiding her hair.

(Lead)

"We have a lead," Reborn informs her, "looking grim." He's sitting by her table, dressed as he always is. Nana stands on the other side, apron in hand and sun heating the skin of her back. The kitchen is spotless behind her.

Nana closes her eyes, breathing deeply as she struggles between hope and dread. "A lead?" She already knows she won't like whatever he says, it's in the slant of his mouth, the tightness of his hands.

"Yes," Reborn sips from his espresso, closing his eyes. "She's likely in the triad's territory."

"We knew this," Nana's tone turns harsher, bitter. She knew this, despite whatever bullshit her pathetic waste of a husband believes, Nana is far from stupid. And she's a mother if a failure of one. Every stone she could turn to find her baby, she turned without a second thought. "And?"

Reborn twitches, he's unused to being chided. Nana knows this and doesn't care, Vongola wants to hunt her baby down for themselves. Nana has no other option but to comply, better they find her Tsuna with her than without. There has to be something, some way that Nana can protect her child. But Vongola has also failed, gravelly, and to a child of the First. Nana is not stupid, she's learned enough in these few years to understand the respect and deference mothers are afforded in the Sicilian mafia and she will use all of it for her child's benefit.

The tutor doesn't make her repeat herself, "we know this for a fact now." A subtle intake of breath, "the triad's territory is protected by a colleague of mine and he's… refusing to cooperate."

Refusing to cooperate? Nana's breath hitches, something clicking in the back of her mind. Got you, she thinks, with a sense of exhilaration that she refuses to let cloud her judgment. "Who is going to track her?"

"Viper will," Reborn answers quickly this time. "But it will be Xanxus who will bring her back."

"The Varia?" Nana frowns, taking a step forward, "you would send the assassination squad after my daughter?" But no, Nana knows, in her heart, that she must pursue this, "bring the commander to me," she demands. "If this is the man who will give me my child back, I'll see for myself if he can be trusted with it.

Chapter 2

Notes:

This one is getting more later, I just need to escape Ameliorate long enough to write it.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

(Lead)

"We have a lead," Reborn informs her, "looking grim." He's sitting by her table, dressed as he always is. Nana stands on the other side, apron in hand and sun heating the skin of her back. The kitchen is spotless behind her.

Nana closes her eyes, breathing deeply as she struggles between hope and dread. "A lead?" She already knows she won't like whatever he says, it's in the slant of his mouth, the tightness of his hands.

"Yes," Reborn sips from his espresso, closing his eyes. "She's likely in the triad's territory."

"We knew this," Nana's tone turns harsher, bitter. She knew this, despite whatever bullshit her pathetic waste of a husband believes, Nana is far from stupid. And she's a mother if a failure of one. Every stone she could turn to find her baby, she turned without a second thought. "And?"

Reborn twitches, he's unused to being chided. Nana knows this and doesn't care, Vongola wants to hunt her baby down for themselves. Nana has no other option but to comply, better they find her Tsuna with her than without. There has to be something, some way that Nana can protect her child. But Vongola has also failed, gravelly, and to a child of the First. Nana is not stupid, she's learned enough in these few years to understand the respect and deference mothers are afforded in the Sicilian mafia and she will use all of it for her child's benefit.

The tutor doesn't make her repeat herself, "we know this for a fact now." A subtle intake of breath, "the triad's territory is protected by a colleague of mine and he's… refusing to cooperate."

Refusing to cooperate? Nana's breath hitches, something clicking in the back of her mind. Got you, she thinks, with a sense of exhilaration that she refuses to let cloud her judgment. "Who is going to track her?"

"Viper will," Reborn answers quickly this time. "But it will be Xanxus who will bring her back."

"The Varia?" Nana frowns, taking a step forward, "you would send the assassination squad after my daughter?" But no, Nana knows, in her heart, that she must pursue this, "bring the commander to me," she demands. "If this is the man who will give me my child back, I'll see for myself if he can be trusted with it."

(Young)

Nana stands as soon as the door opens, hands smoothing out her shirt on the way. But she can’t help the way she frowns at the scene in front of her, lips tightening in annoyance. This… Xanxus… He might be the commander of the Varia but he’s also just a couple of years older than her own child and already so scarred. This is a young man, a boy, that they’re escorting to her house at gunpoint.

“That’s enough,” Nana moves closer, compelled perhaps by guilt, perhaps by the motherly instincts she could not be bothered to use for her own child. Or perhaps, if she were to be kinder with herself, human decency. He shifts at the fury in her eyes and Nana closes them, presses her lips together to get a hold of herself. “Reborn,” she turns to the toddler-looking man, standing by the door, “get out.”

“Ma’am…”

“Out,” she repeats, grabbing a gentle hold of Xanxus’s arm as they both watch both Reborn and Lal Mirch leave the house. Nana sighs, guiding him to her table and eyeing the split skin of his knuckles. He probably did that to himself, struggling, but she still focuses on that. “Come on.”

Xanxus says nothing, eyeing her warily as she tends to his wounds. He’s obviously distrustful, obviously hurt, even if not much of it is physical. And Nana hates them. She hates Vongola with a passion she didn’t know she had, hates Iemitsu so much that it hurts, if only because there’s a small part of her that loves him still. She hates Timoteo for his cruelty, for his audacity to pretend he cares. 

“I’m going to find her,” Xanxus murmurs, low and cruel into the silence. “Whether you agree or not, I’m going to do it. And when I do… I’m going to destroy everything she holds dear.”

Nana smiles, sad and a little wistful because she understands the threat. “I’ll live, then,” she shrugs, finally letting go of his hand. “Bad parenting,” she informs him, at his surprise, “it’s not exclusive to Italy, or the mafia.” She points her finger in front of them, maybe a meter away from where he’s sitting, “she was standing right there that morning, you know? Right there.”

She sighs, pulls away from him, a little, eyes fixed on the spot. “She was saying goodbye, told me she was leaving. So I made her a bento and pushed her out the door.” Nana covers her mouth with a hand, ignoring the dampness in her eyes, “it took me almost six months to notice she wasn’t out with friends but gone . Really gone.” 

Ducking her head, she presses her hand against her eyes, cupping his cheek with the other, “I’m sorry, love.” Nana kisses his forehead because this much she can do, “the both of you deserve so much better.” She pulls away, fixing his hair up a bit, “are you hungry?”

Xanxus stares, blinking slowly up at her before he nods, small and only one time but enough for Nana to see. 

(Food)

Xanxus is… confused. It’s a state he finds himself in with increasing regularity since this damn hunt started. It was supposed to be an easy kill. Hunt the girl down, slit her throat, move on. But it took Mammon a year and a lot of annoyance at an uncooperative fellow arcobaleno to track her down. Long enough that Xanxus went after her himself.

And yet…

He doesn’t know if he hesitated or if Tsunayoshi was faster than he’d thought she was. But when she had turned around, smile faint but mischievous, Xanxus had known she had let them track her down. She hadn’t been who he was expecting, not with her long brown hair held in a ponytail, not with her vibrant amber eyes, the colour of her flames. She’d shrugged at him, “tell mama I’m glad she’s back, ok?”

But Xanxus hadn’t, he’d given chase for almost a quarter of a year. Not quite catching up but never losing her trail either, right up until she’d lost her patience. She’d ambushed him in the forest, broke his arm before he managed to disengage. “Careful,” Tsunayoshi had warned, “these are wild lands, Commander. It wouldn’t do for you to get lost.”

Not that Xanxus knows what the hell that meant. Triad territory might as well be another planet for him, with how different the culture is. But he’d called her by name anyway, trying to pull her back because at some point this became less of a kill and more of a capture. 

Tsunayoshi had turned back to him yet, amused but visibly surprised. “Mamoru,” she had corrected him, gently. “Well met, Xanxus,” she’d knelt down, leaving some supplies at her feet. “They’re not poised but you can test them.” 

Xanxus didn’t need them and now they sit heavy on his pocket. He ignores Reborn watching him silently, finding the correct set of keys. “Mama,” he calls, leaving his shoes by the door. “I’m back.”

“Welcome back!” Nana calls from the kitchen, relieved as she dries her hands to come to greet him, “are you hungry?”

For a moment, Xanxus wonders if it’s a trait of the Sawada women. The whole feeding whoever sits still long enough to be fed. “Yeah,” Xanxus shrugs off his jacket and leaning down to kiss her cheek.

Notes:

The Sawada ladies are a force to be reckoned.

Notes:

So, as always:
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