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The first time anyone really notices them, sees them, is when Tsuna is first hit by the Dying Will bullet. The moment his clothes had shredded from his person, Reborn had instantly picked out the discolored patches along his student’s arms and torso. He had instantly counted twelve scars caused by a knife and a long number of pink cigarette burns snaking up and down his arms and around his torso and lower under his waistband. Reborn took in the slight way some of his ribs just seemed to stick out, as if they had been broken and never properly reset.
Before any of the students could really get a glimpse of the almost-nude teen, Hibari Kyoya himself had swept in like a hurricane, smacking Tsuna upside the head and throwing a overly large uniform jacket over his body. Tsuna had woken in the Reception room in only his underwear and covered in a gakuen blazer.
“Dame-Tsuna,” Reborn’s squeaky voice spoke up and Tsuna looked over to Hibari’s desk, where the prefect was sitting with Reborn staring at Tsuna, “what is with your arms?”
Tsuna seemed to draw comfort from the material covering himself, clenching it tightly to his chest before shaking his head with a very, very fragile smile.
“I’m Dame,” Tsuna laughed, as if it were some sort of overused joke, “that’s all.”
A change of clothing later and Tsuna was on his way to class, Reborn mulling over the words while Tsuna’s defeated smile stuck in his mind.
“Baby,” Hibari spoke as he put his pen down, having stayed silent the entire time Tsuna was there. While they weren’t strangers due to Hibari more than not intervening before Tsuna could get too harmed by bullies, the brunette was still as skittish with the prefect as he was any other student. “Don’t disrupt the peace of Namimori. If you do, I’ll bite you to death.”
The second person to see was Gokudera.
When they were first introduced, it is less than friendly. Gokudera had all but barely managed to keep Tsuna’s desk upright from his kick, his eyes promising pain. Tsuna had clammed up, the color draining from his face and his pupils blowing up to almost engulf the brown of his irises.
After classes had ended and Tsuna had found himself outside the school building, trembling as he stood in front of the Italian, Gokudera could only see a weakling. Yet, as he watched the shaking shorty tug low on his long sleeve sweater, he could also see that the fear wasn’t from the declared battle between them. No, Gokudera realized as his lips loosened around his cigarette, the shorter male’s terrified focus was on the stick in between his lips. This kid, this teenager was more afraid of a cigarette than Gokudera’s declaration of a death match!
After the smaller male had saved Gokudera from a very early death and the two were left sitting there, one stunned silent and the other curling into his nude self, Gokudera could see them.
Deformed blemishes against the flesh, rough and darker than his complexion. Tiny holes, looking like ugly blisters, wrapped around the limbs and body like a noose. Tiny pale lines danced along his shoulders and torso, eerily looking like a gruesome picture doodled by a toddler. No real pattern but paints a scene of blood and sadistic pleasure to inflict pain.
Gokudera had reached a hand out, barely conscious of the motion, and both boys flinched when Gokudera’s hand made contact with the scarred flesh.
“These..these are cigarette burns…”Gokudera breathed out and suddenly, Tsuna’s wariness and fear made a whole lot of sense. Something foreign bubbled in him, something that made his stomach clench with a sourness that settled on his tongue at the thought of someone willinging inflicting such pain to someone else who obviously couldn’t fight back. Tsuna jerked his arm out of reach and scrambled back, legs knocking against themselves as he tried to scurry away from Gokudera, as if afraid the other teen would try something. His arms were pulled tightly to his chest, trying to keep them as far away from the bomber as possible.
Without any hesitation, Gokudera chunked his pack of smokes over his shoulder, hearing them hit the scorched dirt not far from them. Tsuna eyed him with the type of caution only a beaten dog would have, a look in his eyes not so trustful but still pleading kindness all the same. It made Gokudera want to cry.
“I’m sorry,” Gokudera spoke because he didn’t know what else to say. “I-I’ll-I won’t-...smoking’s a stupid habit to get into, huh?” Tsuna stared silently at Gokudera who had shrugged his black blazer off, standing up. He took cautious, slow steps, his jacket held out at arm’s length. Once he was close enough, Tsuna shot forward and ripped the jacket from Gokudera’s hold, quickly covering his arms.
“I’m Gokudera Hayato,” Gokudera introduced and got down on both knees, bending his body forward until his forehead was almost grazing the ground below. “I swear on my life that I will forever protect you and follow you, no matter what.” Gokudera raised himself and met wide brown eyes, seeing a flicker of orange. “Tenth.”
Reborn, hiding in the trees, couldn’t really react when his attention was on Hibari, who was lurking behind the corner of the school building, his tonfas hanging limply at his side as Tsuna’s soft gasped-sobs sounded.
Gokudera and Reborn noted two things about Tsuna ever since they discovered his scars.
One, Nana had no clue to the horrors his body had gone through. She was obvious to the fact he always wore long sleeves and pants and never got nude around her. She turned a blind eye to the three first-aid kits scattered around his room. She gave a empty-headed smile when she cooed about her ‘ useless son finally making friends! ’
Two, when Tsuna as under a huge amount of stress or panic, he’d scratch at his arms and open up old scabs or tear into healed flesh. Reborn had noticed how the boy’s nails were sharper than the norm but had paid no mind to it.
Until he had caught Tsuna almost tearing a vein open with his frantic scratching. He’d start small, scratching insistently at the flesh with a almost dazed look on his face. He either didn’t realize he was scratching or zoned out to not feel the pain because if left to his habit, he’d open the skin up.
When he did this, Reborn felt that kicking him or hitting him with the Leon-Hammer wasn’t the best idea and so he’d turn to Gokudera, who’d slowly crouch down next to Tsuna and gently take the boy’s trembling, bloody arms in his hands and talk quietly to him, telling Tsuna to breathe, to listen to Gokudera’s voice, to talk to him. Tsuna would just break down and cry, leaning into Gokudera’s warmth with broken apologies spilling from his lips as steadily as his tears.
Reborn took to making sure the Mafia-Boss-to-be’s nails were neatly trimmed and blunt enough to only leave angry red marks along raw scratched flesh if they didn’t catch him in time. Thankfully, Tsuna didn’t seem to think of taking a razor or anything equally as sharp to his arms yet.
Not for the first time, Reborn doubted the choice of Tsuna being the next head of Vongola.
Saving Yamamoto Takeshi from jumping was a choice both Gokudera and Reborn didn’t think Tsuna would be capable of. The entire time he talked to Yamamoto, his hand was steadily clawing a vicious pattern into his skin, his eyes frantically bouncing everywhere but at Yamamoto. His speech, his words of comfort, were stammered and weak, trembling as he tried to save a boy from a death he himself had once thought would bring him peace.
“I-I’m Dame-Tsuna!” Tsuna cried out as his nails dug painfully into his elbow. “But-But I’m still trying! If I can try still, even though I am useless, then so can you! A broken arm can’t-a broken arm won’t stop you!”
“You’re dame, Dame-Tsuna. I bet your mommy wouldn't even notice or care about you! Try it! Go home and tell her about what happened today. Show her our pretty little workmanship, okay? She won’t care, Dame-Tsuna. You know why? Because you’re useless and a good-for nothing.”
Yamamoto had just stared at Tsuna, his sharp eyes going from Tsuna’s glossy eyes to his hand, which was blossoming red tips as he broke skin with his nails. Before he realized it, he was on the rooftop again, reaching with his good arm towards Tsuna. He wanted to make Tsuna stop.
Before he could reach Tsuna, however, he was surrounded by his classmates and relieved teachers and over the heads of the students, he saw Gokudera ushering the trembling Tsuna away, one hand firmly holding his bleeding arm away from his twitching fingers of his dangling hand.
The next day Yamamoto had appeared at the front door of the Sawada house, leaning against the doorframe with Gokudera fuming behind him. He had given Tsuna a wide smile before reaching for his hands, startling both Gokudera and Tsuna when he had slipped a orange bracelet through Tsuna’s thin wrist.
“Whenever you wanna scratch, look at that bracelet, okay?” Yamamoto wiggled Tsuna wrist, which was still in his grip. Yamamoto gave a very wide smile and pulled Tsuna forward, wrapping him in awkward one-arm hug.
“You aren’t dame, Tsuna,” Yamamoto whispered as Tsuna shakily gripped at the back of Yamamoto’s shirt, “you are amazing and I’m following you ‘til death-do-us-part! Haha!”
Gokudera just stared at the two until Tsuna reached a hand out for him and he grudgingly huddled with the two, sandwiching Tsuna between the two taller males. Reborn and Nana watched from the entryway as the three teens hugged and Reborn chanced a glance at Nana.
Nana’s eyes were watery, her bottom lip trembling as she clenched her fists together at her sides, her eyebrows furrowed.
“Tsu-kun,” Nana whispered to herself and turned away from the scene as if ashamed.
After an incident where the newly friended Ryohei, Haru, and Kyoko had tried to get Tsuna to swim, they had seen his scars too. After that, they had become most understanding to why Tsuna always wore his gym jersey even in the heat and why he never participated in the swimming classes. Ryohei deemed himself Tsuna’s older brother and for the first time in his life, bullies and people alike avoided Tsuna as if he were an illness.
The moment he had realized that the bullies were actively trying to avoid him with a effort only ever really reserved for Hibari, Tsuna had stopped walking with his friends and just stared at the ground, big fat tears falling from his eyes as his mind tried to comprehend the fact that no one was bothering him.
He was living life, having fun, and no one was messing with him. The writings and carvings on his desk were no more, his lunch money stayed in his wallet, his books and shoes were always as he left them.
His friends had been worried, freaking out over the sudden tears while Tsuna just gave a laugh.
He was finally feeling alive.
“Hold him down! Grab his wrists! Harder, stupid!” Hands kept touching him and pinching the tender flesh of his bony wrists and Tsuna struggled desperately as four boys hovered above him, the leader chuckling as six hands held him down. The leader, Midomiya Iori - who was seventeen and still in middle school due to his countless repeats - gingerly plucked the cigarette from his mouth, inching it closer to Tsuna’s exposed torso.
“S-stop!” Tsuna cried out, eyes wide and filling with tears as he tried to wiggle away from the heat he could feel approaching. He let out a scream as the flesh under the butt caved in with a searing stab. Like his arms, his stomach was soon littered with red welts of burnt flesh. The scars of the little knife marks that Midomiya had lazily carved were suddenly standing out against the red flesh and the four boys could only stare down at the broken, sobbing mess of a boy as he curled into himself, trying to hide himself from their ugly stares.
The door smashed off the wooden hinges and the four jerked up as a flash of black crashed through the room, taking them out in a flurry of furious swipes of metal.
A heavy jacket fell over Tsuna and he looked up through puffy eyes to see Hibari Kyoya standing there, his face shadowed by a deep, murderous intent.
“Go to the nurses’ office,” Hibari demanded. Tsuna scrambled into a sitting position, his body protesting. Hands caught him as he fell forward and he blinked as he was suddenly being carried by the second-in-command.
“Kyo-san,” Kusakabe spoke as he began to walk towards the exit, “please remember you are at school.” With that Tsuna was taken to the nurses’ office, unaware of the bloodbath the classroom would become with his departure.
With that, Tsuna’s first month at Namimori Middle came to an end.
“His name was Midomiya Iori,” Tsuna spoke up the night after the Ring Battles had finished. Everyone was gathered in his tiny bedroom, Mukuro and Chrome sharing his bed while Yamamoto and Gokudera sandwiched themselves between Tsuna. Ryohei was sitting at his desk and Hibari was leaning on the open window ledge. Lambo was sitting in Chrome’s lap, blowing raspberries at Reborn, who had made himself comfortable in Tsuna’s hair.
His Guardians had quieted down from looking at their rings and turned to Tsuna, who was staring at his bare arms. He was wearing a short sleeve shirt and his fingers were twitching as he fought the urge to scratch.
“He was three years older than me and he was probably the biggest troublemaker in our grade.” Tsuna gave into the urge and dug his nails into his wrist. Yamamoto and Gokudera both took a hand in theirs and squeezed. Tsuna deflated.
“He singled me out, no surprise there. I’m Dame-Tsuna - er, was Dame-Tsuna.” By the tightening of the grips around his hands, he changed the tense. “I was an easy target. I’ve always been bullied. A new one was nothing different. He was really violent, though. More than anyone else. He liked to play with knives and would sometimes slice me up. Very faint, but still. He liked to cause pain.”
He had to breath, his lungs suddenly unable to take any air in.
“He got bo-bored of the knives, though. He-he always said he wondered what it was like - like to put a cigarette out on someone. Said the movies...said the movies made it look fun.” He tried to swallow but sand seemed to house in his throat.
“Tsuna…” Yamamoto’s voice broke the silence and Tsuna hunched forward, glaring down at his lap.
“I-I know I’m weak,” Tsuna spoke and everyone could only stare because what they had seen of their Sky was not weak. “And-and I know I’m useless, but-! But you guys, you guys have stuck by me through thick and thin and-just-!” Chrome shot forward, tackling Tsuna into a hug that sent him careening into Yamamoto, who wrapped them into his arms. Gokudera was grabbed by his shirt and Mukuro gave a sharp chuckle as he moved to touch Tsuna’s hair, Ryohei moving to wrap everyone into his arms. Hibari just stared and Reborn, who had gotten the hell out of the way, could only give a tiny smirk.
“We’re sorry you had to suffer,” Gokudera whispered against Tsuna’s ear. “But we’ll make sure you never suffer again.”
On the rare occasions of catching the twenty-five year old with his sleeves rolled up, one would catch the faint pale marks of scars decorating his arms. The maid and assistants along the mansion would stare and, once caught, would stammer and blush apologies at their rudeness.
Their boss, Tsunayoshi, would just smile and brush a finger along his scars.