Flames From The Heart

Table of Contents:

Part One: The Birth and Life of Sawada Tsunayoshi

Part Two: The Funeral

Part Three: The Continuing Life of Sawada Tsunayoshi

Epilogue

Author's Note

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Part One: The Birth and Life of Sawada Tsunayoshi

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When Tsuna is born on the fourteenth day of October, his mother is overjoyed at his beautiful honey-brown eyes and cute gurgles he makes when he firsts sees her. Her son is just like her!

The name was decided long ago, the name the baby boy would go by — Sawada Tsunayoshi — as talked over from the phone with his father, who, unfortunately, couldn't come due to his sick relative that was very, very ill and could not be here in this day of birth.

Nana holds the newborn close to her chest and whispers comforting words to him, the baby gurgling after each sentence is said, as if he understood about what she was telling about what was waiting for him, his father, and the world that she would protect him from, with a taser and a pan.

But fate — cruel, but kind, and wise to all of the world, not one favourite of its power to be seen — long ago decided to lay a hand on it, blessing the baby boy something he could not avoid as he continued to cutely gurgle by instinct — intuition, some would dare say — as new eyes were opened to the world.

Really, Sawada Tsunayoshi was much like his mother, but very much like his father, if you look in many different angles of how you could view the two.

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Tsuna was not even a year old when Nana noticed something strange about him.

At least a few months old, baby Tsuna crawled around the house, gazing at items, sometimes looking at her for no apparent reason. She could not understand, and nearly tried to ask him about it, before she discovered what she was doing (a baby, not even a month old, and she was trying to ask him! How silly!).

But, as he grew, baby Tsuna seemed to learn if he gazed at the selected item hard enough, as if regarding a memory just out of reach, and one touch would stir it free from its prison bars, and back to his head, yet, only the experience of the memory would come, and leave the actual reality of it behind (of course, that was just imagination from Nana's mind).

Then, he started drawing. First, just random scribbles, like a not fully coloured circle or a square that was not yet a square, but as little Tsuna adventured and gazed among the walls and pictures, the drawings began to become more realistic, as if he had stirred the memory of learning how to draw.

He even drew her and his father on their wedding day, a picture from a forgotten photo album, which made her tear up, to her son's panic as one tear slid down her face and onto his.

Tsuna, Nana had found out after a few days of his birth, was not capable of crying. Really, the only way she would acknowledge that he was hungry was when he gurgled, and when he was thirsty he would just stare at an item containing liquid, but even the gurgling when he was hungry turned into a gaze, and he became a quiet baby. Less work, sure, but Nana couldn't help but worry.

Now, as her child stared at her with his inherited wide brown eyes, they started to waver, and then Tsuna started to cry — and it was only because, Nana discovered when he had calmed down, he thought she was crying in pain, and not joy.