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Grim Musings Of A Self-Immolation

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Sawada Tsunayoshi is a miserable child. He's depressed; Disoriented, devastated, damaged. He didn't want to live anymore. He didn't want to, doesn't, maybe never as any sign of a savior has yet to show before him. Thus he tries. He tries and tries, and keeps trying to save himself from this blasted existence. Despite this, he never grows absolute courage to fulfill his long-standing wish.

Oh, how many times he tried suicide. Nevertheless… his burning Will goes aflame at the last second before his warring death and moves his body, and it stays. His many deaths dubbed as clumsiness. No one notices. In his once amateur presence anyone could obviously notice the real force put into it, but they didn't care enough to put attention and sadly (gladly), never noticed his true intentions behind these tendencies.

Tsunayoshi does not even mention of the sort. Doesn't show his purposes. Hides it. Lies about what went. Apologizing in faking shame., “Sorry, I tripped!”. Behind those lies, he hid. Hiding in their shadows. A liar he became accustomed to, and into a pro deceiver he grew.

Sawada Nana, her love is questionable when Tsuna's harshness - which forebodes itself as his daily life - plays its act. Tsuna knows her love is true. Truthfully, his mother's warmth is another key aspect keeping him from landing on those hidden spikes, but her obliviousness nudges Tsuna's daily routine.

Sawada Iemitsu: a trained mafia man, a commanding leader. His love is most debatable. He visits time to time and warrants some attention to his lil’ Tsunafishy, but his visits are too slight, mind too madly occupied of blood, whether family or Famìglia. Therefore, he fails to notice his eminent mistake of ignoring the clumsiness of Sawada Tsunayoshi.

Tsunayoshi reminds himself this depressing (comforting) fact at every beat he faces, with every injury he gains. Visible or invisible. Physical or mental and emotional. Nobody notices his bountiful wounds, nobody notices his many suicides.

A young teen is a bundle on stained cement. A slender brunette with narrow caramel-colored eyes, paling flush pink skin, and wild-soft hair. This young teen, Sawada Tsunayoshi, stands up. Wearily avoiding the group of boys, teens standing a foot or two taller than his small form, having ditched him in a pile of seeping blood. Not much, but it all belonging to the limping child. They didn't finish him off yet again. How disappointing.

“He's gain more cuts I see... Darkening bruises littering his bony figure - Oh! The gorgeous red staining dull pavement and beautifully seeping from such rigid, slit scars on that porcelain skin!”

“Absolutely taunting me to reap what they sow.”

He was just beaten again. For being so clumsy (suicidal), dame and dull. ‘Dame-Tsuna’ they call him. It's another permanent scar, invisible, yet seen by everyone but his mother. His father already long gone out of the picture no matter how recent his last visit.

“I should hurry home. I barely have enough equipment, I need to restock on first-aid kits.”

Home he goes, walking at a steady pace.

Passing several alignments of similarly constructed houses, he eventually reaches his household. An eggshell two-story house sitting upon a lush grass yard, surrounded by ashen brick walls. He walks towards the teal gate bolted between the wall's opened space, a steel mailbox cemented in the wall to his right tagged with his surname 'Sawada'.

Tsuna walks within the construct, his house coming into full view. Each story adorns its own tangerine roof. A steel fenced balcony lead from a sliding glass door and a small window of the second story. Beneath lays three large, tall windows side-by-side, built from the lower roof to the patio inches above the trimmed grass on the left side of the front wall. In front of the patio sits a laundry rack situated into the ground and a few more inches away are two common trees rooted next to the other, full-grown.

Tsuna strides up the gravel sidewalk leading towards a white porch a step off the ground. He comes up to a dark oak door framed by multiple, small squared windows, twists the knob and walks through.

From the entrance he glances about the inside. Observing the hallway to his left, covered in doors leading to their respective rooms. To his right, the staircase. Shutting the door behind him, he stops at the entrance to change his shoes. He calls back to his welcoming mother, busy in the kitchen. Avoiding her view, Tsuna walks on the polished floorboards to fix himself upstairs.

He cleans his cuts and dresses his wounds instinctively. A repeated homing ritual. Walking back down the intriguing looking stairs - Tall, high depth, dangerous - Tsuna almost trips. He safely makes it to the first floor. Eating his dinner mostly in silence, finishing his regular day, settling into his calling bed, Tsuna feels his aching bones give in.

‘If only I could claim this comfort as my coffin.’

Into a deep sleep and warning dream he fell. Dead, yet only sleeping.

“Sawada Tsunayoshi”

“Sawada Tsunayoshi. Trouble calls, Sawada Tsunayoshi.”

“There is a gift arriving tomorrow.”

“At your doorstep it will come knocking. The key to either your very wanted death, or an unwanted interference of a forced life.”

“What will you do? What will you do to avoid or hurry your wished life Sawada Tsunayoshi!”

“Awake or endlessly sleep.”


“Sawada Tsunayoshi”


Awakening from an abrupt dream of black, Tsunayoshi reflected upon the woman of death, a reaper? A fine woman, the reaper of beautifully moon pale skin. A voice dark yet smooth with hushed yet intimate words leaving crimson lips. Decorated on a lovely structured face. Narrow eyes of magenta. Hair either black or white from whatever angle you gaze at her from. And a dreamily curved body of six feet, playfully hidden under black and red robes with painted on golden butterflies nesting atop white flowers.

This fanatic reaper was foregoing his desires. Tricking him, warning him about the possibly incoming nightmare or approaching dream settling in his reality. Although warned, his oncoming troubles are becoming unavoidable.

And just as Tsunayoshi thought.


The doorbell rang.