I had never been the type to believe in miracles.
Or destiny, for that matter.
And yet, I was living through one of those so-called miracles people write about in novels: finding myself inside a fictional universe. Specifically, the world of Katekyo Hitman Reborn!.
It hadn’t happened because of some magical ritual or a mysterious light pulling me away in my sleep.
No.
I had simply woken up one morning… and I was Tsunayoshi Sawada.
Or rather, I was occupying his body.
I wasn’t a fourteen-year-old boy failing school.
I was a nearly twenty-five-year-old woman, exhausted by the real world, disillusioned by my own experiences, and suddenly trapped in the body of a Japanese teenager everyone called “No-Good Tsuna.”
The familiar ceiling of his bedroom stared back at me with its insignificant cracks, and the first thing I noticed was how strange this body felt.
Smaller.
Thinner.
More fragile.
I already had the impression that a strong gust of wind could knock me over.
A sigh escaped me.
“Great… As if my life wasn’t complicated enough already. Now I have to deal with being a bullied kid destined to become the boss of the Vongola Mafia.”
And that wasn’t even the worst part.
The worst part was that I knew exactly what was going to happen tomorrow.
Reborn.
The world’s greatest hitman.
The mafia baby who was about to walk into my house and turn my life into hell.
I rolled onto my side, staring at the wall covered with ordinary school posters, and let my thoughts wander.
I wasn’t Tsuna.
I had his memories scattered through my head like fragments of a dream layered over my own, but my mind was still mine.
I had never been comfortable around people. I struggled to read facial expressions correctly. Smiles seemed suspicious. Prolonged eye contact irritated me. Hints and implications flew right over my head.
People had always said I was too cold. Too distant. As if I lacked empathy.
The truth was simpler: I was selective.
I could become fiercely attached to the people who truly mattered to me.
Everyone else?
Their existence generally left me indifferent.
Children were the exception.
I adore children.
I’ve always been especially kind to them.
Tsuna, on the other hand, was too nice.
Too accommodating.
He said yes to everyone, and it made me want to grab him by the shoulders and shake some sense into him.
Now that I was in his body, there was no way I was going to repeat his mistakes.
“I refuse,” I muttered, staring at the ceiling. “I refuse to have Gokudera, Yamamoto, Sasagawa, or even that damn Lambo as my Guardians.”
I knew that would be a problem.
In canon, they played crucial roles.
But I had no affinity with any of them.
Gokudera and his unhealthy obsession with “Juudaime” drove me insane.
Yamamoto, with his carefree smile and complete inability to recognize reality for what it was, annoyed me more than anything. He gave me the impression that he could get himself killed at any moment because he thought everything was a game instead of understanding that people’s lives were actually at stake.
Sasagawa was about as subtle as a malfunctioning loudspeaker and gave me migraines.
As for Lambo…
I couldn’t stand the idea of entrusting my life to a five-year-old child.
Not that I couldn’t grow attached to him.
But he was still five years old.
No.
Absolutely not.
I wanted Hibari.
Mukuro.
Chrome.
Maybe even adult Ryohei if I absolutely had to.
But certainly not his hyperactive child self and all the yelling that came with it.
I sat up, rested my elbows on my knees, and rubbed my face with both hands.
I needed a plan.
Because tomorrow, everything would begin.
⸻
I went downstairs into the Sawada household kitchen.
Nana—my “mother” now—greeted me with her usual warm smile.
I couldn’t help staring at her for several seconds.
She possessed the kind of kindness that felt almost too pure for this cruel world.
She had absolutely no idea what her son was destined to become, and something inside me cracked a little as I watched her prepare breakfast as though nothing was wrong.
“Tsuna-chan, you’re up earlier than usual!” she said cheerfully.
I merely nodded, unable to fully play the role.
“…Yeah.”
She didn’t seem to notice my curt tone.
Nana had a supernatural ability to see the bright side of absolutely everything.
I sat down and mechanically took a bite of rice.
The body’s habits handled the rest.
My thoughts, however, were elsewhere.
Tomorrow.
Tomorrow, Reborn would arrive.
And if I wanted to avoid repeating history, I would have to show him immediately that I wasn’t the pathetic Tsuna he expected.
I reviewed everything I knew.
The Vongola were an ancient family rooted in the traditions of the Italian Mafia, with a lineage of Guardians connected through Sky Flames.
I had read enough books about mythology and ancient religions to recognize the symbolism behind those flames:
Sun.
Cloud.
Storm.
Rain.
Lightning.
Mist.
An entire cosmology.
And I had inherited the Sky.
The Sky.
The one that connected and united all the others.
It was ironic, considering my social incompetence.
Then again, perhaps it wasn’t.
I formed deep attachments.
Intense ones.
And once I chose someone…
I never let them go.
I set down my chopsticks and looked at my mother.
“…Mom, if someone came one day to train me… would you want me to become strong?”
She laughed softly, as though I had made a joke.
“Of course, Tsuna-chan! Besides, you’re already very special.”
Her words echoed strangely in my mind.
Special.
Not normal.
Not ordinary.
Special.
I finished breakfast in silence.
⸻
The day passed in a strange haze.
Middle school.
Classmates’ mockery.
Teachers scolding me without conviction.
All of it felt insignificant compared to what was coming.
I wasn’t Tsuna.
I wasn’t the boy everyone looked down on.
I was me.
With twenty-five years of experience.
My scars.
My obsessions.
My intelligence.
I’d always had an unusually high IQ, capable of absorbing enormous amounts of information.
But that gift came with a curse.
An inability to function normally around other people.
Jokes went over my head.
Unspoken expectations irritated me.
And somehow, I always ended up saying exactly the wrong thing.
So what?
I was supposed to become a Mafia Boss?
Me?
Someone who struggled to manage a simple conversation?
A bitter laugh escaped me.
And yet, I knew I could do it.
Because a boss didn’t need to be loved by everyone.
A boss needed to be feared.
Respected.
Listened to.
And that?
That I could do.
That evening, back in Tsuna’s bedroom, I dropped onto the bed.
Moonlight filtered through the window, silver and merciless.
“Reborn,” I whispered.
“Tomorrow, you’re coming here to break me. But let me warn you…”
A faint smile touched my lips.
“I’m not your toy.”
I wasn’t Tsuna.
I was me.
And I intended to rewrite this story my own way.