Of Second Chances and Parallel Universes

Of Bittersweet Memories

At this point in his life, and he meant both physically and mentally, he knew he was cowardly. The difference was, he understood himself a bit more this time around. Don't get him wrong, he knew he could be brave if he tried, but he wouldn't try if it weren't for his family. In other words, he had no reason to be brave if it weren't for his family.

If any of the people he considered his were to be in any kind of peril, he would go to the ends of the earth to make it better, and he already had in some ways, giving all of himself for the sake of many members of the family in the past... the future? He supposed it didn't really matter.

The point was, he had run, away, like he knew he would because there was no reason to be brave. At this point, he felt more stressed than he'd ever been in his life, and he couldn't even imagine being able to face his mother, much less be composed and cool around her.

Maybe it was only the effect of the hormones racing through his newly teenaged body, but his chest felt tight, his throat felt choked, and he knew he was going to cry in the next five minutes. He should really find a place to hide before that happens.

Legs pumping, heart racing, he let his mind wander and his limbs take them wherever they willed. After a time, he found himself in a nook next to an abandoned bowling alley. He frequented the nook quite often in his early childhood. While his classmates had never used physical force against him, they had come pretty close a couple of times, and many afternoons were spent huddling in the nook, shaking, and returning home to his mother's knowing stare.

It was a painfully familiar sight now when he needed it most. It was a bit small for him now, pressing uncomfortably against his thighs and his ribcage, but he hunkered down a bit more despite the slight discomfort.

He let out a shuddering breath. He already felt calmer. He let out another. He wasn't ready for any of this. His arms snaked around his knees and squeezed tightly. Thoughts were racing through his head at the speed of lightning, whirling around crazily.

Most of all, he was painfully aware of his own inadequacy, consumed by the familiar feeling of being almost good enough. Tears started welling up in his eyes, and he squeezed them shut. They forced their way out despite his best attempts to prevent them, and his eyes burned as the stray drops of moisture demanded to be released.

He surrendered to his body's wishes and spent the next fifteen minutes quietly sniffling and crying his eyes out. Only when he felt tired out and pleasantly numb, he finally emerged from his hiding place and started to trudge back home, feeling a bit better than before.

Only when he got back home again did he realize that there was no way he was facing his mother again, not like this. He turned away from the front driveway and promptly scaled the fence. At least he tried to. A feat he would be easily able to accomplish in the future now had him completely stumped. His limbs just weren't long enough to reach the top of the fence. Once he got his growth spurt at the end of middle school it would probably be better, but for now, he contented himself with wiggling the loose board in the fence and squeezing through.

He started up the tree very slowly and carefully. Luckily the slats his father had hammered in the last time he was here were still mostly intact. His father had come home one day, and overzealously announced he was going to build Tsuna a tree-house. He had barely finished hammering the steps up in the tree before he had disappeared once more. As much as Tsuna was still pissed off at the man, he was thankful for the work he had managed to put in, it was aiding him now.

He finished scaling the tree, and slowly climbed into the window. He retrieved his schoolbag, careful not to make any sound that would alert his mother to his presence. After packing his schoolbag according to the neat schedule pasted haphazardly to the inside of his door, he slunk slowly back out.

A peek at his wristwatch told him he had to hurry up if he ever wanted to escape Hibari, who was vicious towards any error in punctuality. Tsuna definitely didn't want to face off against him when he didn't know how much his fragile body was capable of. If its physical prowess was as pitiful as he remembered it to be, he wanted no part in any sort of fight, much less one against Hibari.

Before he knew it, he was at Namimori Middle, passing hurriedly through the gates, looking down fearfully. He noticed everybody doing the same. No one wanted to make eye contact with Hibari. He smiled slightly. Some things never change, do they.

Now, which class did he have first... English? He remembered how he horrible he used to be in the class, and almost cringed at his past self. He'd have to pretend to be as bad as he was before. The last thing he wanted was to look suspicious. His improvement would have to be gradual. Actually, knowing himself in middle school, his progress would have to be very slow... Well, all that was left to do is see how that plan holds up. Considering his history with plans going well, he'd give this one about two days.

It was time to change his demeanor and posture to fit the caricature of himself he was portraying. He stooped his shoulders and slouched just a bit. His head was angled downwards and he slowed the pace of his steps, making himself look the slightest bit hesitant.

He came to stand in front of his English classroom, daring himself to suck it up and open the door.

This was it. The start of the charade. The moment of truth. He took a steadying breath.

Class was about to begin.

A/n: Look at me, posting chapters one day after the other! Less angst in this one, I think...

Hope you enjoyed!

Stay tuned~