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Chapter Text

Seven

There was a little boy huddling in a concealed corner of a warehouse, shivering from cold and fear. He could hear the footsteps of his pursuers through the spaces between the boxes he hid behind, footsteps easily audible to his sensitive ears. Another boy might make some sound, maybe breathe too harshly and draw attention to himself, but this boy had been taught how to behave when hiding.

Breathe lightly, said a quiet voice in his memories, don't move, keep your eyes mostly closed so light can't bounce off them. Tsuna could almost hear his cousin's voice, a smooth tenor that hardly ever rose higher than a whisper. Federico was like a shadow, and he'd taught Tsuna the beginnings of his art. Keep your ears open, little lion, don't lose track of where the enemy is, be prepared to run when hiding is a lost cause, only fight when you cannot run away.

Tsuna had asked how he would ever win a fight if he always hid or ran first, and Enrico had laughed from where he was watching his younger brother teach. Don't worry about winning, he'd said with a smirk, his voice rough from smoking and yelling at trainees all day, you're young yet, little lion, if fighting is needed we'll be there to do it for you. Then he'd gone on to teach Tsuna a couple basic moves for getting out of a hold, in case he was ever caught alone.

Tsuna wished Enrico was here to fight for him.

He heard whispers from a few feet away, a pair of his tormentors pausing to argue about whether he was still here. When they agreed he must have gotten away, he almost breathed a sigh of relief, but he'd been taught better than that, so he waited until the footsteps revealed that all seven older boys had left the warehouse before he moved. Still pulling on Federico's lessons, Tsuna slipped through the shadows and out of the building, hurrying home in the gathering dark.

His auntie Emi greeted him with a smile and bade him wash up for dinner. She gave no comment about the lateness of the hour, but then that was usual. Tsuna wondered what she thought he was doing when he didn't come home until so late at night.

He was eight and his aunt was disappointed in him.

It wasn't his fault, really, he just didn't understand what the teachers wanted. Japanese had always been hard for him, since he'd spent his first six years mostly in Italy, speaking Italian. He could speak it just fine, but memorizing all these symbols was so difficult! He was fine with romanji, why did he have to learn katakana and hiragana and kanji?

His aunt didn't get it, though; he was Japanese, so he should be able to learn it just fine, right?

He missed Massimo.

The second brother had always been able to teach him things best. Massimo said he was a Tactile Learner, so he learned differently. He always had lessons in different places, like the garden or the greenhouses, and he'd walk him through a book and then let him take a break. School was so long and boring! They had to sit at desks and listen to the teacher go on and on, and the stuff they said just didn't stick! And the books were all in Japanese, so he didn't understand it very well, and it only got worse as he got older and the books got more complicated. At this rate he would be failing all the time soon, and his aunt would only get more disappointed.

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Ten

He'd been right, it only got worse from there.

He couldn't understand practically anything the teachers wrote, and that meant that even though he was pretty good at math – Massimo had once said he was a natural – he couldn't learn anything new at school. None of the other kids wanted to help him because they thought he was just stupid, and the teachers weren't helping 'cause they thought that, too. They called him Idiot-Tsuna.

He wasn't, though, he knew it, because the public library had math books in English, which he'd learned when he was little, and he understood it fine in that language.

The boys who'd chased him into that warehouse when he was seven hadn't done anything like that again, but that was because he made sure to always get home before the streets emptied now. That didn't stop them from trying to hurt him at school, though. Sometimes they cornered him in the hallways at lunch, or just after school ended, and he honestly didn't understand how his aunt could pretend she didn't see the bruises, but she'd never mentioned anything, when she was home at all.

He was drowning, but he supposed it could be worse. It would be worse, if it weren't for his cousins' lessons. He never thought he'd be thankful for Xanxus' training, but without it there probably would have been broken bones by now. Without the youngest Vongola's words he would've been even worse off.

Why the hell are you crying, brat, he'd said one day, after he'd caught Tsuna doing just that because his father had brushed him off when he'd asked for some help with his flames ('How cute! My little Tunafish wants to learn how to fight like his Papa! But you don't need to, Tsu-kun, Papa will always be there to protect you!'), So the CEDEF trash doesn't give a damn, what does it matter to you? If he's not interested in looking after you, then you shouldn't be interested in him. It's not like you're alone, anyway, you've got my idiot brothers pandering to your every whim. Then he'd cuffed him over the head, surprisingly gently for Xanxus, and dragged him into one of the training rooms to show him how to gather his flames in his hands, the first of many lessons.

He still cared about his father, but he didn't really care what the man thought of him anymore. He wasn't the one who'd protected him from those mean guys who kidnapped him (it'd been Federico), or the one who taught him how to read and do math and paint (that was Massimo), or the one who'd taught him how to swim and play football (that'd been Enrico). Xanxus was the one who taught him how to fight, and Grandpa was the one who told stories to him sometimes before he went to bed. Those were things a father was supposed to do, and Iemitsu hadn't done any of them.

No one did them, now. His aunt was kind and gentle and a really good artist, who always had a hug for him and made a bento for his lunch when she could, but she never noticed when he got hurt, or when he was sad. She didn't really seem to know what to do with a child.

He missed his family.

He was eleven, and he'd pretty much given up on school at this point. He still went, and he'd figured out how to read better over the past year, thanks to a helpful librarian who'd realized what was going on, but it hadn't changed anything. Everyone thought he was just an idiot now, so when he did better the teachers thought he'd cheated, and even when they didn't think that the other students did. There was a lot of homework stealing and ripping – Tsuna tried to fight back, but he wasn't like that crazy Hibari-san who could stand up to a whole group of upperclassmen and come out unscathed and victorious.

So he still learned what was taught, and he listened in class, but no one ever called on him because he was Idiot-Tsuna, and sometimes Cheater-Tsuna now, too. At least he was okay at sports, so he didn't get picked on about that. He was even faster than most of the other kids, since he trained sometimes when he was bored. Things were better now, maybe even looking up, but they weren't exactly good.

"Hey, ah, Tsuna-san!" Someone called from behind him after gym class one day.

Tsuna turned, surprised to see Yamamoto Takeshi was the one calling to him. The other boy was pretty popular, since even though he wasn't all that great at classwork, he was really good at sports, especially baseball.

The brunet blinked at him, then gave a slight smile. Yamamoto wasn't a mean-spirited person, so he'd never made fun of him like the others in his class. "Yes, Yamamoto-san? Can I help you?" He asked.

Yamamoto grinned at him, "You're pretty good at football, you know," he said, "That last pass you made to Daisuke-san was really good, if you hadn't passed to him there we might not have won!" He told Tsuna cheerfully.

Tsuna stared at him in surprise; he hadn't thought anyone had really noticed, "Ah, thank you, Yamamoto-san, but it wasn't that big a deal. You were the one who scored most of the goals, anyway."

"Haha, so modest! The team's just as important as the star player, you know, and you're better than most of the others. Maybe you should join a football team."

Tsuna shook his head, "I doubt anyone would want me to join," he said.

Yamamoto frowned slightly, "Why not?"

The brunet gave him a bemused look, "Well, no one really likes me, you know."

Yamamoto nodded, "I guess not, but I don't really see why. You seem like a pretty cool guy to me, Tsuna-san."

Tsuna blushed and gave the other a boy a smile. He didn't know it then, but this was the start of the changes. 

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“Tsuna!”

The little boy turned towards the person who'd called his name, a grin breaking out on his face, “Enrico-nii!” He squealed back at the man as he waved his hands, which were full of grass that he'd torn from the ground out of boredom. Facing in that direction as he was, he completely missed the man darting out of the woods behind him, not that the child would have been able to do anything if he had seen.

Enrico dashed across the lawn, roaring in frustration as the man snatched up the suddenly screaming boy and threw him over his shoulder, turning away from the Vongola Heir and running back into the trees. Enrico reached the edge of the wood seconds later, but by that time the kidnapper was already over the wall, judging by the sounds Tsuna was making, which suddenly cut off a moment later. Enrico snarled and pulled out his radio, giving orders to search the area and set up an investigation into who was behind this.

Federico was the one who found him.

It had only been hours since the attack, but the whole of Vongola HQ was in an uproar. CEDEF had been called, but Iemitsu was incommunicado, busy with a sensitive mission with no means of contact at all. In all honesty, Federico didn't think it mattered that much, considering that the man had basically abandoned his son to the Vongola main house upon his arrival in Italy, and had hardly seen the kid since.

At any rate, Federico stood in an alleyway across the street from the old warehouse he'd tracked the kidnapper to.

He pulled out his phone and dialed his oldest brother, “Enrico,” he said quietly once he'd picked up, “I've tracked him to a warehouse in the south end of the city.”

Enrico sighed in relief, and waited for Federico to give him a more precise location before giving him the go ahead to scout inside, informing his brother that he'd be sending back-up. Federico gave his acknowledgement, then flipped the phone shut and slipped across the street and eased his way into the warehouse, making sure to be absolutely silent. If he was heard, they might hurt Tsuna, after all.

Hearing voices coming from the back of the large space inside, the third Vongola stalked silently between the crates, avoiding the three lookouts with ease before he reached a spot close enough to hear clearly.

“You sure this is the Young Lion's son?” One voice asked, “He doesn't look much like the bastard.”

“Yeah,” said another, “The kid's all fluffy and brown, and tiny.”

A third man snorted, “He's like four or something, of course he's tiny. Yeah, this is him, he matches the picture.”

Federico scowled at that; there shouldn't be any pictures of Tsuna floating around. They'd have to look into how that got out.

Suddenly a loud crash came from outside the warehouse, causing the whole group to start swearing and shouting. The third voice ordered several of his fellows to head to the area the crash had come from to stall while he and some others escaped with Tsuna.

Having had enough by this point, Federico slipped out of the shadows, pulling out a knife and darting behind Tsuna before anyone could react. He slashed the ropes keeping the (still conscious) boy bound and then tugged him back into the shadow between a pair of crates before throwing his knife into the third man's throat. He was careful to keep Tsuna behind him, not wanting the kid to see this sort of thing at such a young age.

He turned and lifted the boy onto his back, telling him to hold on tight as he dashed through the room towards the entrance he'd used, which was near but to the right of the fighting. He wasn't expecting it to be guarded now, though, which was his downfall.

Two shots rang right in front of him as he turned the corner, and he felt like he'd been punched through the shoulder and again through the leg. He gave a harsh gasp as he stumbled and fell, dislodging a screaming Tsuna from his back as he went. Stupid, he cursed himself, that was such an amateur mistake. He was going to pay for this in training later, if he got out of this alive.

He was sidetracked as the world lit on fire.

He turned his face to watch in some awe as his little cousin lit up like a bonfire, orange flames bursting into being on his forehead and hands. Sky Flames, some part of him thought, before it was blown away as the tiny boy shot across the room and took down the pair of guards on the doors with a pair of well placed punches to the crotch, and then another pair of kicks to the head.

That done, the boy turned back to look at him. The last thought Federico had before he passed out from blood loss was Primo.

Xanxus was in a pretty bad mood right now.

This wasn't unusual, exactly, he was usually pretty irritated, but his typical mood hardly held a candle to how pissed he was right now. The reason for this was simple: that was his brother on the floor there, with blood puddling under him, and he couldn't get a good enough look at him to tell where the blood was coming from. He finished off the last man standing between him and Federico and stalked towards his prone form.

Then there was the brat, who was the reason for this whole thing. He was passed out at Federico's side, light burns on his hands and forehead suggesting that he'd activated his flames. At least he was good for something, the teen thought, eyeing the pair of dead men walking who'd shot Federico as he stooped down to check both of them were breathing. That confirmed, he gestured towards one of the idiots with him to begin field dressing the wounds as he pulled out his phone and called Enrico.

“Xanxus?” The 35 year old's voice came across the line once he'd picked up.

“We'll need a medic,” the teen snapped into the phone, “Neither of them are critical, but Federico took a shot to the shoulder and another through the leg, and the brat looks like he went active.”

“Xanxus!” Enrico snapped, “What the hell are you doing there? You weren't supposed to be with the back-up I sent.”

“It's a good thing I was,” the youngest growled at him, “These trash wouldn't have made it through the first group without me.”

Enrico gave a sigh, “We'll talk about this later, in the meantime there should be a medic there in five, if you would give me a quick report on the situation.

Enrico was the one who was sitting by Tsuna's bedside when he awoke. He had been sleeping, but was instantly snapped out of it by the sound of various things falling, and shot up from his sleep in alarm to find the boy was trying to creep out of the infirmary bed but had tipped over the tray next to it.

He raised an eyebrow at the boy, “And where do you think you're going?” He asked casually.

Tsuna gave him a long, quivering look, then burst into tears.

Enrico panicked for about three seconds before calming down and pulling the kid in for a hug, “Hey, hey, shh, it's alright, little lion, it's alright, you're okay.”

The kid just cried harder; somewhat bewildered, the oldest Vongola brother kept holding him and rocking him and making vaguely soothing sounds. The great Enrico Vongola, some part of his mind went sardonically, give him any obstacle and he'll plan some way around it, but give him a crying child and he's hopeless.

Eventually Tsuna calmed down, still hiccoughing as he rubbed his wet eyes against the shoulder of Enrico's jacket. The man pulled away slightly and gave him a hopefully soothing look, “What's wrong, Tsuna?” He asked gently.

The boy sniffed, “I-I-It's my fault, I wasn't looking and I went too close to the trees and I the bad men got me and then Federico-nii got shot! He got shot saving me!”

He looked about ready to start crying again, to Enrico's great alarm, so he hurried to comfort him, “No, little lion, it wasn't your fault-”

“How can you say that! It was!” The boy interrupted, eyes watering.

Enrico clapped a palm over his mouth, “Hush,” he said, “It wasn't your fault, it was the bad men who decided kidnapping you was a good idea, and the bad men who shot them. It was their fault, not yours, and you stopped them from hurting them more when you activated your flames and knocked them out.”

Tsuna stopped crying at that, “I activated my flames?” He mumbled into Enrico's hand, wondering. He blinked as Enrico cautiously pulled his palm away, “So that's why I felt so much stronger.” He looked at his hands, finally noticing the bandages wrapped around them and on his forehead, and the sticky-slick feeling of some kind of burn soothing paste underneath.

Enrico breathed a sigh of relief, “Yeah, that would be why. You knocked out those guys and saved Federico from getting hurt again, so you saved him just like he saved you. Besides, he's going to be fine.” He nodded towards the other bed in the room, where his younger brother lay sleeping easily, shoulder and leg covered in clean bandages and tucked in under the sheets. He hadn't woken up yet, but the doctor said he should sometime today.

In fact, he seemed to be waking now. Enrico looked back to Tsuna and held a finger to his mouth, lifting the boy into his arms and walking over to sit in the chair facing his brother's bed. The 27 year old made a scrunched-up face, then cracked open an eyelid, then another, slowly focusing on his brother and cousin.

After a second of staring, he broke into a wide smile, “Ah, you're alright, that's good,” he muttered.

Tsuna was silent, and Enrico worried for a moment that he might start crying again, but it seemed he'd decided that his new discovery was more important than being guilty.

“I activated my flames, Federico-nii!” He squealed delightedly.

Federico got a strange look on his face as he gazed at Tsuna thoughtfully. Then he shook his head and smiled at the boy, “I saw,” he said, “Good job taking down those two idiots.”

While Tsuna basked in that complement, Enrico informed his brother of the happenings over the past three days, and the state of his injuries. About half-way through the explanation of Xanxus' penalty for joining the back-up team against orders (he was on leave from taking missions for the next month, though he was allowed to use the training rooms), Tsuna left to go to the bathroom. Federico's eyes trailed after him thoughtfully as he went, and his older brother trailed off as he noticed his preoccupation.

“Fede?” He prompted.

Federico blinked and turned back to him shaking his head, “The way he used his flames – he looked like Primo, Enrico.”

Enrico raised a brow at him, “Well, based on the burns I'd say he was in Dying Will Mode, and his hairstyle is a bit like Primo's...”

Federico shook his head again, “No, it was... I don't know, but there was something more to it, something in his eyes.”

He trailed off, and then Tsuna re-entered the room complaining that he couldn't find the bathroom and asking Enrico to please help him find it.

As Enrico took his cousin's hand to lead him out, he glanced back at his brother to find him gazing after the boy, a considering look in his eyes.

“Like this, Nii-san?” A little boy's voice rang from inside one of the smaller training rooms in the Vongola Main house. Massimo paused as he passed by on his way to his favourite room, recognizing the voice as Tsuna's. He wondered which of his brothers was teaching him this time, and what he was learning.

Curiosity overcoming his need to take out some stress on innocent training dummies, Nono's second son slipped into the room and was greatly surprised to find his youngest brother was the one with the boy. He was perhaps slightly less surprised to see that Xanxus was teaching the little lion how to focus his flames, using one of his old, low-class rings.

Massimo watched the pair from next to the door, a small, fond smile on his face. It was a little surprising to see Xanxus being so – gentle, with their little cousin. Even if he had some reservations about teaching a five-year-old to use his flames, he couldn't deny that the youngest Vongola was doing a decent job of it. Tsuna was staring, rather fascinated, at the flickering orange light dancing over the back of his hand, eyes wide with wonder. The fifteen-year-old, meanwhile, had a rather strange look on his face as he knelt down beside his student. Massimo thought it might have been because of the 'Nii-san' title the little boy had bestowed upon him. He covered a chuckle with a small cough, which made the two look over at him.

“Hello, Xanxus, Tsuna,” he said, eyes dancing at the scowl his brother gave him for the poorly-disguised laugh. The little boy, however, was beaming at him, waving his flaming hand in Massimo's direction.

“Look, Massimo-nii, Xanxus-nii showed me how to make my flames go to my hands! It's really pretty, and maybe now I'll fight better if anymore bad guys come and try to take me away again, so Federico-nii won't get hurt next time.” Tsuna frowned slightly as he remembered the kidnapping attempt that had led to him activating his sky flames. The wounds Federico had taken hadn't been terribly critical, but they bled a lot, and it had been quite traumatizing for the youngest heir.

Xanxus cuffed the boy gently, “Don't get ahead of yourself, brat.” He said, “You're not good enough to be talking about fighting yet.” Tsuna looked disheartened,“But you're doing alright for a brat.” The teen added grudgingly.

Massimo looked on in great amusement as the boy gave his brother a frankly dazzling smile, making Xanxus look away uncomfortably. The 32 year old rather suspected the kid was the only one who could fluster his half-brother like that.

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Yamamoto hadn't stopped talking to him after that. He wasn't bothering him or anything, but sometimes he came and ate lunch with Tsuna, and he started picking him for his team all the time. Tsuna wouldn't have minded, except that having apparently gained the friendship of such a popular guy made the bullies worse.

"Baka-Tsuna, what do you think you're doing hanging around a guy like Yamamoto?" One boy asked threateningly, attempting to loom over the smaller child. He and four of his fellows were surrounding the smaller boy in a semi-circle against a wall. They'd caught him in the morning a few blocks from the elementary, and were now keeping him from getting to class on time.

Tsuna raised his hands in front of him defensively, eyeing the four others in the group harassing him warily, "I'm not hanging around with him," he protested, "he's just being a good classmate." Not that he'd mind hanging around Yamamoto, he thought. The baseball ace was friendly and always seemed cheerful, and he didn't treat Tsuna like the dirt beneath his feat, unlike most.

It was looking like it might turn into a fight when someone spoke up behind the semi-circle of bullies.

"Herbivores." The six boys all stilled, "You are crowding and skipping class."

Tsuna watched absently as the five facing him paled, feeling a slightly vindictive pleasure as they turned to face the Demon of Namimori Middle. He'd be feeling even better if he wasn't also skipping class and 'crowding', even if it wasn't of his own volition. Hibari-san wasn't known to care about that sort of thing, after all.

One of the boys chose that moment to speak up, "Ah, Hibari-san, we were just making sure Sawada here made it to school, he was lagging behind, you see..." He trailed off uncertainly as the boy stared at him.

"You're lying." The thirteen-year-old said after a moment. Then he bared his teeth at them, "I will bite you all to death."

He waded into the group of terrified bullies, his tonfas making wince-worthy sounds against the others' bodies as he went. Tsuna tried to make himself as still as possible, hoping that if he didn't draw attention the Demon Prefect might just let him go to class after he was finished with the others.

No such luck; after leaving the five boys in a twitching pile on the ground, Hibari turned to Tsuna next. The brunet winced as he braced himself for impact, but after a few moments of nothing happening he looked up at the older boy curiously. Then he folded over as he took a tonfa to the stomach, falling on his hands and knees as the Prefect pulled away.

As he tried to regulate his breathing and hopefully avoid throwing up, he heard footsteps walking away from him. He glanced up as Hibari spoke, "Go to class, Herbivore, and don't cut again. I won't be so lenient next time."

As he was left alone in the street Tsuna eyed the other victims and vowed to try extra hard to never be late again.

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Thanks to his new-found zeal for timeliness, the next morning saw Tsuna headed out the door a good two hours before he needed to be, dressed in exercise clothes. It was six in the morning, and the street was utterly deserted, so peaceful that the boy couldn't help but stop to bask in the birdsong and wish that his life could always be this way.
Alas, it was not to be, he realized, as the morning calm was shattered by the extreme sound of Sasagawa Ryohei's voice.
“Good morning!” Tsuna jumped as the older boy came to a stop directly in front of him in the middle of the road, “I have never seen you out this early before, Sawada!”
Tsuna usually went running two or three times a week, around seven in the morning, so he sometimes caught sight of Sasagawa just as he was heading home, though the other had never seen him. Tsuna was suddenly reminded of why he had never chosen to head out earlier – the older boy was a fitness fanatic, and now that he knew Tsuna ran, too, he suspected he'd never be left alone.
He was right.

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