Work Text:
The phone kept ringing.
The house was silent, the lights turned off and the blinds drawn tight as the phone kept ringing. The sun tried to slip past the cracks of the bent blinds, casting shadows across the bedroom. Papers were littered on the wooden flooring, crumpled or scribbled black into unrecognizable gibberish. Trash toppled over the trashcan in the corner by the closet door, manga books thrown haphazardly across the bed and bookshelves in a haste of cleaning. Pens and markers were strew across the floor, poking out from folders or book-bags in careless abandon, dirt and brown spots caking the visible material.
Ruddy, worm bandages were pulled from between the mattress and the bed-board, torn from the harsh pulling to reveal the cloth. Dark red, brown, and black blotches covered the bandages, giving an almost artistic pattern to the cotton wraps.
The phone kept ringing and Nana just sat there, cradling the bloody, torn school uniform shirt to her chest as she sobbed into the receiver, mentally begging for her husband to answer.
The first time she heard it, she nearly screamed right then and there, in the middle of the bustling market, Tsuna’s hand clenched in hers.
“Ah, there’s Dame-Tsuna.”
Nana had stopped walking, Tsuna bumping into her with a soft yelp, his hand squeezing hers tightly at the abrupt hault. Nana just stood there, eyes trained ahead, as people grumbled and shoved around the motionless pair.
“Mom?” Tsuna’s voice, soft and confused, broke Nana’s trance.
“Ara! Tsu-kun, I think there’s a sale going on today at Mako-Mart! Let’s hurry, let’s hurry!” Nana chirped, bustling forward again with a strong grip on her child’s hand.
If anyone saw Nana give a murderous glare at the snickering teenagers who suddenly clammed up, they played it off as a trick of the light because Sawada Nana was nothing by oblivious smiles and sunshine, right?
Nana stared down at her sleeping child, her eyes drawn to her son’s arm. Fresh scratch-marks scarred the smooth complexion, angry red lines blemishing the skin. Tiny beads of blood had blossomed and dried, barely breaking the skin, Tsuna’s nails looking vicious in the light of the living room. Nana bent down, tucking her legs under her, as she slowly and gently took one of Tsuna’s hands in hers. Glancing at her slumbering boy, she cautiously raised the metal nail-clippers to encase Tsuna’s nails, giving a soft snip.
She glanced at Tsuna again. The child did not stir.
Snip. Snip. Snip. Snip. Snip. Snip. Snip. Snip. Snip.
“I’m sorry Tsu-kun,” Nana whispered under her breath and dropped Tsuna’s hands, getting up to move to the kitchen.
“Nana-san,” Reborn spoke up after Tsuna all but rushed out the door with a jumbled gurgle of panic, “do you...do you know what goes on at your son’s school?”
Nana, humming a tune from one of Tsuna’s favorite anime series, continued to chop lettuce on the cutting board.
“Ara?” Nana tilted her head to the side, images of Tsuna’s school bag trashed with death-threats and slanders towards him, his ruined school books, his bloody shoes with sticky tacts still in, first-aid kits, bandages, blood - “Tsu-kun has lots of fun at school! He has the most adorable crush on this girl called Sasagawa-san, if I remember correctly-”
Sasagawa Kyouko, probably the only reason her child got up to go to school anymore. Nana had seen the girl once, when she and Tsuna had gone to the park for a relaxing day. Kyouko had given a smile and a wave, beaming at Tsuna, who had flushed and hid himself behind his long sleeved arms. Kyouko had come, asking why Tsuna hadn’t gone to school the day before. Tsuna had stammered, making up a lie, and Kyouko had left with a promise to see him the next day.
The girl would probably never know how indebt Nana felt towards her, for causing such a smile to form on her son’s face.
“Why do you ask, Reborn-chan?” Nana asked with a smile in her tone.
Nana stared at the scene, her eyes watering as she took in how the Yamamoto boy was craddling her child close to his good side, gentle and caring. Tsuna himself was clinging to the teenager and crying into his shirt, gripping tightly as if he were afraid the taller male was going to disappear the moment he released him.
“Oh Tsu-kun,” Nana whispered, unable to continue staring as guilt washed over her. She turned her head, trying to hide her tears because she had no right to cry. She hadn’t done anything to protect her precious child.
No. She had just waited until people who could actually protect him appeared.
She walked into the house, leaving the boys on the porch. She slumped against the wall, clenching her chest.
“Thank goodness,” she sobbed as her silent prayers were finally answered. “Thank goodness.”
“Uh,” Tsuna looked nervous, eyes bouncing from the water back to Yamamoto, Ryohei, Gokudera, and Haru, all of them looking patient as he tried to talk. “I-I don’t swim.” Tsuna, hiding his sweating body under a long-sleeve shirt and shorts that passed his knees, huddled backwards.
“What’s wrong Dame-Tsuna?” The one gripping his head laughed as he shoved Tsuna’s head under the spray of the toilet water, the other two upperclassman howling in laughter as Tsuna sputtered, limbs flailing as his lungs protested. “Can’t swim?”
“Aw man, he smells like crap!”
“That’s because he is shit!”
“S-sorry,” Tsuna gave a weak attempt to laugh, taking another step back. “I-I can’t swim.”
Of course, in that moment, a passing teenager shoved Tsuna into the water with a nasty smirk, whistling as he walked away from the growling Hayato. Tsuna flailed, splashing against the water as he gasped. Ryohei grabbed Tsuna by the shirt, trying to tell him to stop struggling, only to go ‘oops’ when he instead ripped Tsuna’s shirt off the boy poor.
Haru jerked back with an audible gasp, her hands flying to her mouth as Yamamoto swooped in, grabbing Tsuna by the shoulders and legs and hauling him out of the water. Reborn got to Tsuna’s side, Hayato on his other while Yamamoto bent down in front of the trembling boy. Ryohei just stood in the water, Tsuna’s shirt in white-knuckled grip, as his gaze bore into the imperfections marking Tsuna’s skin.
“Tsuna-san,” Haru whispered as she climbed out of the pool, grabbing a towel from their near-by area. She draped it around Tsuna, unable to look away from the pale lines and burn-marks lining his shoulders and arms.
“...Sawada,” Ryohei asked finally while Yamamoto rubbed the towel along Tsuna’s arms, whispering comforts to him, “who did that to you?”
“It’s okay,” Tsuna whispered as he hugged the towel closer to his body, “I’m just Dame.”
“One EXTREME melon bread, please.” Ryohei looked away from the small stand towards the sound of snickering. Blinking, Ryohei paid for his bread and wandered over towards the gathering crowd of freshman students.
It was the first week of school, what was-
Ryohei’s eyes landed on the sight of a tiny brunette boy standing in the middle of the hallway, head bowed as an elderly teacher scolded the boy. The boy was standing barefoot, his hands clasped behind his back, as the teacher went on and on about the dress code and how humiliating it was for the school to have such a barbaric child and-
Ryohei turned, not wanting to be a spectator in the ridicule, and walked off unaware of the three upperclassmen snickering as they held the boy’s shoes behind their backs.
“Hey hey, did you hear? Apparently that Midomiya boy has chosen Dame-Tsuna to be his new toy.”
Yamamoto yawned as he sat down at his desk, vision blurring for a moment as he rubbed at his eyes.
“Eeeeh? Midomiya? Isn’t this, like, his third time as a first-year? What bad luck Dame-Tsuna has.”
Yamamoto bent down, digging through his bookbag, finding the necessary books and papers he’d need for that day’s class.
“I know, right? Dame-Tsuna is Dame-Tsuna though. He’s probably only good for that.”
“Ah! I can’t believe you said that outloud! Heehee.”
The door opened and closed, the almost silent pitter-patter of feet sounding as a small brunette sat down at his desk in the very back of the class. The child looked down, taking in the new writing staining his desk.
Dame-Tsuna. Die. No Good. Why bother living? Dame. Dame. DAME. DAME.
Yamamoto’s head nodded as he tried to fight sleep. He was awoken to the Nezu’s shrill voice yelling at Tsuna about not properly taking care of his books.
Yamamoto began to nod off again as student around him giggled and snickered at Dame-Tsuna’s misfortune.
“Sawada,” the teacher sighed, settling back into the chair as she crossed her arms over her chest, frowning up at the boy, “this is the fifth time this week you’ve forgotten your gym clothes. Is something going on?”
Sawada Tsunayoshi was a weak child. Anyone could see it, from the way he curled into himself to the way his wide eyes made him look more vulnerable.
“Do I need to call your mother about this? It’s only the third week of school, Sawada. This can’t continue.”
Which she honestly should. In all the years that Momoi Akira was a teacher, she had only had a handful of cases similar to this boy’s. Missing clothing, forgotten homework, destroyed textbooks - it always pointed to one thing. But Akira wasn’t about to get ahead of herself, especially since this was Namimori and Namimori wasn’t like any of the other schools she had worked at - this school had a demon protecting it.
“I’m sorry sensei,” Tsuna’s voice was quiet, almost a whisper, and with his head bowed and shoulders slumped, he looked sorry. Akira sighed again, brushing some hair behind her ear.
“Don’t let it happen again Sawada. Don’t wander the hallways, Hibari-san is vicious today for some reasons. That’s all.” Akira watched the small teenager leave the teacher’s lounge and gave another huff.
“Bullying?” Another female teacher asked, popping up from her desk across from Akira.
“I don’t think so - Hibari-san rules with an iron fist. There may be delinquents but they aren’t that stupid, are they?” Even as she said it, Akira’s eyes lingered down to the file of her most troublesome student, Midomiya.
Maybe they were. Akira made a mental note to give a tip off to the infamous third year.
It was an especially difficult day for Tsuna. First, he had forgotten his lunch at home, resulting in Hayato and Takeshi having a near all-out brawl to share their lunches, and then Mochida had decided that Tsuna was getting too chummy to Kyouko again and had tried to corner him. Next, some upperclassmen from another school had tried to have a territory battle with Hibari right after school, Tsuna somehow getting involved when he ended up as a hostage along with Hana and Kyouko.
Hibari had not been happy and had bitten everyone to death. Everyone .
It had only worsened when Iemitsu returned out of nowhere, declaring his intentions for a vacation while secretly informing Reborn and Tsuna to the upcoming trials the Vongola Family were facing with the reawakening of Xanxus, Nono’s adopted son.
Tsuna had excused himself, feeling extremely uncomfortable around the stranger who was supposed to be his father, saying he was going to go take a shower.
Of course, Iemitsu had to decide to be a idiot and burst in on his son while changing after his shower, freezing in the open doorway to stare at the scars overlapping his son’s form. Reborn, who had been standing on Tsuna’s desk and had been tutoring the child on his English while he changed, tensed.
“....Well look at that! You aren’t so weak, are you?” Iemitsu had laughed, walking over to the stiff Tsuna to smack at his back good-heartedly. “You’ve got a set of balls on ya, son! As expected from my child! Not some pansy, right?”
“ Iemitsu .” The voice was deep and heavy, Tsuna flinching at the adult-sounding growl while Iemitsu shot a wary stare towards Reborn, who was suddenly at the doorway. “We need to talk. Now.” Iemitsu had glanced at Tsuna for a moment, who was staring down at the towel wrapped around his waist, before he followed the infant out of the room.
Tsuna fell to his knees, gulping in lungfuls of air, his hands shaking as he frantically clawed at his arms. He hadn’t been able to break skin before he seemed to snap out of it, diving for a sweater to cover his top up with. He changed quickly, looking up in time to see his mother peeking in.
“Tsu-kun?” Nana asked softly as she fully stepped into the room. She stepped closer to Tsuna, wrapping her arms around him and hugging him to her chest. “Dinner is ready. Ah, you’ve grown a bit! You’re chin comes to my shoulder now! Wait until I tell Hayato-chan and Takeshi-chan! They’ll be so happy.”
Tsuna sniffled, nodding.
It was a faint memory, one Nana tried to bury away deep within her heart to try and allow herself to pretend everything was alright.
It had been one of the rare moments that Nana was able to get into contact with Iemitsu, one of those times when his cellphone was properly connected and their timing was on-point.
“Iemitsu,” Nana had blurbed the moment she heard her husband’s voice. A wave of relief washed over her.
“Nana, my adorable wife! I miss you!” Iemitsu’s light tone tickled her ear. Then come see me, Nana bit back and smiled against the phone.
“Iemitsu, darling, I think Tsu-kun’s being bullied,” Nana sighed as she walked towards her child’s room, peeking in on her sleeping ten-year old.
“He never talks about any friends and the other day he came home with a bruise. A bruise! Oh, I don’t know what to do! I thought, maybe, you have experienced something similar in your childhood and...I don’t know...you’d know what to do?” Nana had lowered her voice, closing Tsuna’s door as she went back into the kitchen.
“....they’re kids, Nana,” Iemitsu laughed. “That’s what little boys do! It’ll toughen him up, Nana! You worry too much. A bruise or two will give him character. He’s fine. There is no way our little Tuna-fish is getting bullied! You’re imagining it.” And Nana had to bite her tongue before she snapped at her husband because, her baby being hurt was not fine!
“If you’re sure…” Nana sighed and glanced at the clock.
“Positive! Ah, sorry my love, I have to go!” And with that, the call ended and Nana was left staring at the phone with a empty sort of bitterness.
Three years later, Nana would remember the phone call as she tidied up Tsuna’s room, stumbling upon a bloody shirt.
“Nana,” Iemitsu spoke as Nana hummed one of Tsuna’s favorite songs to herself, cutting at the cutting board, “Tsuna has a lot of scars on him.”
Nana paused in her cutting, setting down the knife. She turned to Iemitsu, wiping her hands as she stared with a fixed smile on her face.
“Ara,” Nana laughed as Reborn hopped up onto the table, “I thought you said boys were like that? That I was just imagining it? That there was no way he was being bullied?” With each sentence, Nana’s smile twitched, Iemitsu’s lips pulling into a frown.
“Iemitsu,” Nana spoke as she took a step towards the man who she really wanted to think was her husband. “There are scars.”