yoshishisha (
yoshishisha) wrote in
fandomweekly2024-02-12 04:06 pm
[#209] Finding Home (Katekyou Hitman Reborn)
Theme Prompt: #209 - Outsider
Title: Finding Home
Fandom: Katekyou Hitman Reborn
Rating/Warnings: None
Bonus: Yes
Word Count: 1042
Summary: Tsuna has always been an outsider. He's just... coming to terms with the source of it
C’est pas si facile d’être en dehors. En dehors de soi, en dehors de tout. En dehors des scènes passées et présentes qui dictent son futur.
It’s not so easy being an outsider. An outsider to your own body, an outsider to everything. An outsider to scenes past and present that dictate your future.
Tsuna had always been an outsider. Maybe not when he was younger, when he was but a child who still hadn’t had his flames removed from him to leave the low burning ember of a chill behind. That might be dishonest though, attributing too much weight to that singular event. Tsuna had fallen onto the habit of blaming everything he didn’t like about himself on the suppression of his flames, but it wasn’t as though he’d truly been flame active back then, was it? Or was he simply attempting to comfort himself by trying to forgo the thought that someone who’d been meant to protect him had so thoroughly altered the path of his life as to render it unrecognizable?
Nonetheless… Outsider was indeed a good way to describe him.
An outsider in his own body, a body that no longer answered to his commands and refused to perform as it used to so easily before. He hadn’t been graceful, very few children truly were at that age, and those who were tended to be trained in having a strong awareness of their movement. Tsuna had been slightly clumsy in the way children tended to be. Sure of his step, but tripping up every once in a while. Willing and able to climb something because he knew the risk of him falling was pretty low. Running full steam ahead without watching his feet, only to return to his mother’s skirts when he wanted a bit of rest and reassurance.
A stark difference from the boy he’d become after his fall, one who still ran at first, but quickly slowed down once he realized his feet could no longer be trusted to carry him to his destination. One who was still comfortable taking calculated risks, only to realise that no amount of calculating was going to lower the risk in his favour. One so unsure of his step that he’d taken to walking slowly in the hopes that it would make him less likely to trip over his own feet.
An outsider in his school, what should have been the source of his social cycle. Had he been popular before? Most likely not. His memories of that time weren’t the best, but he’d always been a loner, and used to playing alone unless other children joined him by chance. He’d had acquaintances then, not really friends, but even that had been a stark contrast to what had happened after. Had it been gradual? Had people slowly started backing away, when his flames had been forcefully snuffed? Or had it been all too sudden, an empty void forming around him while he was struggling to find traces of himself once again.
Not that that phase had lasted long. Maybe the reason why he couldn’t remember the loneliness of being ignored was because after had come the pain of being too visible. A pain soul deep and skin tight all at once. The pain associated with people knowing him and hating him for it, resenting him for it in ways he didn’t understand and still wasn’t able to explain even now. Hypotheses had been raised around him with his Guardians, once he’d finally felt comfortable enough to raise the subject. Both comfortable enough with them and with himself.
A black hole perhaps, Gokudera had called it. Maybe people had been used to the lowkey feel of dormant flames within him, and the feel of them gone left behind a sense of wrongness. Like uncanny valley, or an eldritch horror. Wrongness without any of the fear left behind, which left people comfortable enough to act on their discomfort and turn it into hatred.
Like having pins and needles, had been Yamamoto’s guess. He didn’t often get the sensation; restless as he was, he tended to move his limbs before the feeling settled. Still, he was familiar enough with the truth of it. An unlikable sensation that crept up slowly, a background noise at first until it became untenable enough for you to have to do something about it. A punch, a jerk, a sudden flail. Impulsive action followed by immediate relief. Maybe Tsuna had had the effect of that feeling on some people, and it had kept Tsuna in the back of their minds until they did something to him or about him.
Tsuna had asked Yamamoto how that transition had felt to him, if he’d noticed a difference between before and after, not really expecting a true answer.
“You don’t know what you’re asking,” Yamamoto had answered, before thinking better of it. He'd looked at Tsuna, then grinned, quick and easy. “You weren’t important enough for me to notice back then. I don’t think I’d have even noticed your presence or absence.”
Oddly enough, that answer brought a smile to Tsuna’s face. Back then, Yamamoto had specified. He knew, rationally, that he was no longer in that time and place, one where he was friendless and lonely and hated for it, as opposed to before when he’d still been friendless but satisfied with his passing acquaintances. He was now surrounded by friends, and more importantly, by Family. By people he trusted and who trusted him, even though it might not have felt that way when he’d first met them.
It wouldn’t do to dwell on the root causes of that time of his life, he thought. Considering the different possibilities was only important in that it kept him from someone else repeating the same mistakes under his watch, because otherwise he was simply likely to ruminate endlessly over the possibilities. He closed his eyes, and let himself fall forward to rest his forehead on his Guardian’s back, shortly thereafter feeling another Guardian rest a hand on his head to ruffle his hair. It was soothing, being surrounded in such a way by people he trusted. Maybe he wouldn’t have to feel like an outsider anymore.
Title: Finding Home
Fandom: Katekyou Hitman Reborn
Rating/Warnings: None
Bonus: Yes
Word Count: 1042
Summary: Tsuna has always been an outsider. He's just... coming to terms with the source of it
C’est pas si facile d’être en dehors. En dehors de soi, en dehors de tout. En dehors des scènes passées et présentes qui dictent son futur.
It’s not so easy being an outsider. An outsider to your own body, an outsider to everything. An outsider to scenes past and present that dictate your future.
Tsuna had always been an outsider. Maybe not when he was younger, when he was but a child who still hadn’t had his flames removed from him to leave the low burning ember of a chill behind. That might be dishonest though, attributing too much weight to that singular event. Tsuna had fallen onto the habit of blaming everything he didn’t like about himself on the suppression of his flames, but it wasn’t as though he’d truly been flame active back then, was it? Or was he simply attempting to comfort himself by trying to forgo the thought that someone who’d been meant to protect him had so thoroughly altered the path of his life as to render it unrecognizable?
Nonetheless… Outsider was indeed a good way to describe him.
An outsider in his own body, a body that no longer answered to his commands and refused to perform as it used to so easily before. He hadn’t been graceful, very few children truly were at that age, and those who were tended to be trained in having a strong awareness of their movement. Tsuna had been slightly clumsy in the way children tended to be. Sure of his step, but tripping up every once in a while. Willing and able to climb something because he knew the risk of him falling was pretty low. Running full steam ahead without watching his feet, only to return to his mother’s skirts when he wanted a bit of rest and reassurance.
A stark difference from the boy he’d become after his fall, one who still ran at first, but quickly slowed down once he realized his feet could no longer be trusted to carry him to his destination. One who was still comfortable taking calculated risks, only to realise that no amount of calculating was going to lower the risk in his favour. One so unsure of his step that he’d taken to walking slowly in the hopes that it would make him less likely to trip over his own feet.
An outsider in his school, what should have been the source of his social cycle. Had he been popular before? Most likely not. His memories of that time weren’t the best, but he’d always been a loner, and used to playing alone unless other children joined him by chance. He’d had acquaintances then, not really friends, but even that had been a stark contrast to what had happened after. Had it been gradual? Had people slowly started backing away, when his flames had been forcefully snuffed? Or had it been all too sudden, an empty void forming around him while he was struggling to find traces of himself once again.
Not that that phase had lasted long. Maybe the reason why he couldn’t remember the loneliness of being ignored was because after had come the pain of being too visible. A pain soul deep and skin tight all at once. The pain associated with people knowing him and hating him for it, resenting him for it in ways he didn’t understand and still wasn’t able to explain even now. Hypotheses had been raised around him with his Guardians, once he’d finally felt comfortable enough to raise the subject. Both comfortable enough with them and with himself.
A black hole perhaps, Gokudera had called it. Maybe people had been used to the lowkey feel of dormant flames within him, and the feel of them gone left behind a sense of wrongness. Like uncanny valley, or an eldritch horror. Wrongness without any of the fear left behind, which left people comfortable enough to act on their discomfort and turn it into hatred.
Like having pins and needles, had been Yamamoto’s guess. He didn’t often get the sensation; restless as he was, he tended to move his limbs before the feeling settled. Still, he was familiar enough with the truth of it. An unlikable sensation that crept up slowly, a background noise at first until it became untenable enough for you to have to do something about it. A punch, a jerk, a sudden flail. Impulsive action followed by immediate relief. Maybe Tsuna had had the effect of that feeling on some people, and it had kept Tsuna in the back of their minds until they did something to him or about him.
Tsuna had asked Yamamoto how that transition had felt to him, if he’d noticed a difference between before and after, not really expecting a true answer.
“You don’t know what you’re asking,” Yamamoto had answered, before thinking better of it. He'd looked at Tsuna, then grinned, quick and easy. “You weren’t important enough for me to notice back then. I don’t think I’d have even noticed your presence or absence.”
Oddly enough, that answer brought a smile to Tsuna’s face. Back then, Yamamoto had specified. He knew, rationally, that he was no longer in that time and place, one where he was friendless and lonely and hated for it, as opposed to before when he’d still been friendless but satisfied with his passing acquaintances. He was now surrounded by friends, and more importantly, by Family. By people he trusted and who trusted him, even though it might not have felt that way when he’d first met them.
It wouldn’t do to dwell on the root causes of that time of his life, he thought. Considering the different possibilities was only important in that it kept him from someone else repeating the same mistakes under his watch, because otherwise he was simply likely to ruminate endlessly over the possibilities. He closed his eyes, and let himself fall forward to rest his forehead on his Guardian’s back, shortly thereafter feeling another Guardian rest a hand on his head to ruffle his hair. It was soothing, being surrounded in such a way by people he trusted. Maybe he wouldn’t have to feel like an outsider anymore.

no subject
no subject