The next day arrived faster than I had expected. No matter how late I had stayed awake, turning the same thoughts over and over in my head, morning came down like a guillotine. I opened my eyes with the unpleasant feeling that something was already lurking in the air—unseen, hidden somewhere in the shadows of my room. I listened carefully. Nothing. Just the usual sounds of the Sawada household: Nana’s gentle voice, my father’s newspaper rustling downstairs, the song of a bird outside. Everything was normal. Too normal. I took my time getting up and putting on my school uniform, as though every movement needed to be carefully considered. Today, I wasn’t Tsuna. I was me. An adult trapped inside a teenager’s body, preparing to face the person who was about to turn my existence upside down. And he didn’t keep me waiting. “Good morning!” a high-pitched, far-too-cheerful voice said behind me. I turned around. There he was. Small. Dressed in an immaculate black suit. Wearing a hat bigger than his body. An enigmatic smile glued to his face. And in his arms sat a bright green chameleon. Reborn. In the flesh. And in diapers. My heart sped up for a second, but I didn’t let it show. I had been waiting for this moment. “…So you’ve arrived,” I said evenly. His eyes lit up as if my reaction amused him. With a single leap, he landed on my desk, moving far too smoothly for such a tiny body. “Just as planned,” he said. “Sawada Tsunayoshi, I am your new home tutor. My name is Reborn.” He tilted his head slightly, as though he were stating an obvious fact. I stared at him. Most people would have laughed or called him ridiculous. A baby claiming to be a tutor wasn’t exactly believable. But I already knew what he was. An assassin. A monster wearing the face of an angel. “You’re a hitman,” I replied bluntly. “Not a tutor.” Silence settled over the room. Even the chameleon seemed to freeze. Reborn studied me, and his smile widened. “Oh? That’s an interesting response. I was told you were No-Good Tsuna, the pathetic loser. But you don’t seem quite as stupid as I was led to believe.” I held his gaze. “I’m not Tsuna.” A mischievous gleam appeared in his eyes. “Not Tsuna, huh? And yet you wear his face. You have his memories. You are him.” I shrugged. “We’ll see.” Reborn crossed his arms, the brim of his hat casting an almost comical shadow across his face. There was nothing childish about his aura, however. His mere presence filled the room like a constant threat. Then, without warning, he raised his tiny revolver and pointed it directly at me. “If you’re not Tsuna, then who are you?” The barrel gleamed in the morning light. I didn’t flinch. “Someone who refuses to repeat his mistakes. Someone who knows this boy’s future and refuses to live it exactly as it happened.” A brief silence followed. Then a short laugh escaped him. “Interesting. Very interesting.” He lowered the weapon, though I knew he could raise it again at any moment. “Fine. Since you seem different, tell me… what are your goals?” I took a slow breath. This was the moment to establish my terms. “I don’t want Gokudera, Yamamoto, Sasagawa, or Lambo as my Guardians. They’re the ones who become his if history follows its original course.” One of Reborn’s eyebrows rose. “You’re rejecting half of your allies?” “Not allies,” I said. “Dead weight.” The silence grew heavier. But I wasn’t finished. “Gokudera is obsessive, unstable, and far too dependent. Yamamoto lives in denial and refuses to take anything seriously. Sasagawa is a loudmouth who doesn’t think before he acts. And Lambo…” I paused. “Lambo is five years old.” I folded my arms. “Do you honestly expect me to entrust my life to a spoiled child who’s too young to fully understand the world he’s living in?” Reborn stared at me for a long moment. His eyes were like twin blades searching for weakness. I refused to give him any. “Then who do you want?” he finally asked. I took a moment to organize my thoughts. “Hibari. Mukuro. Chrome.” “Hibari?” Reborn repeated, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. “A rabid dog who only protects whatever catches his interest. Mukuro? A criminal whose dream is to destroy the Mafia. And Chrome… a fragile girl completely dependent on Mukuro. You really want to build your future around them?” “Yes.” The answer came without hesitation. He waited for an explanation. I gave him one. “Hibari is strong. Loyal in his own way. He bows to no one, and that’s exactly what I respect about him.” I continued calmly. “Mukuro is unstable, sure. But he’s brilliant. He has the intelligence to see beyond rules and conventions, and that’s valuable.” My expression softened slightly. “And Chrome… Chrome needs protection, but she also has tremendous potential. She deserves better than spending her life as someone’s shadow.” I paused before adding: “I don’t want obedient dogs.” My gaze met his. “I want independent forces. Not blind followers.” Reborn studied me again. Then a slow smile spread across his face. “Fascinating.” His smile widened. “Truly fascinating.” He holstered his revolver and jumped down from the desk, his tiny footsteps barely making a sound against the floorboards. “You’re not the Tsuna I expected.” His eyes gleamed. “But perhaps you’re the one the Vongola deserves.” I remained silent, still watching him. “I’ll warn you,” he continued. “I’m not changing my training methods for your sake. I’ll break you, rebuild you, and see whether you survive the process.” I tilted my head slightly. “You can try.” His smile became positively predatory. “Good.” He raised the revolver once more. “Then let’s begin.” Without warning, a flash of flame burst from the barrel. The bullet shot straight toward my forehead. And the world exploded.

The Baby with the Revolver