Disclaimer: (I will only bother with this for the first chapter) I Dont Own Katekyo Hitman Reborn.

Note: This first chapter features and OC. But by chapter two, she wont really be around too much.

Previous Readers: Thank you for those of you who followed me through a switched account and finally to this last final revision! I have and will always love this story. I originally started this two years ago, and I think I am finally comfortable enough as a writer to write exactly what I have always planned for this story! The first chapter has a lot of added material but it follows the same outline of the very first version, but this will change come chapter two. Enjoy! :)


Chapter 1: Reborn in Passing, To be Born Another Day

He looked up at the rusty sign that hung above the slightly rundown building. He couldn't read the first part but he recognized the second. It was a word that was either a beacon of light or a horror to people like him. Orphanage.

The kind lady that gave him bread yesterday told him of this place, she even gave him directions. She said that he would be taken care of, and get THREE meals every day, but...he didn't know if he should trust her or not. The other boys living on the street told him once you're in you can never come out.

Mean rotten old women will breathe down your neck if you put a single toe out of line, they said. They also said you get stuffed in tasteless grey shirts that are stiff and itchy. You get hit if you run in the halls and they give you cold, frost bitten baths, and they-

The young boy was interrupted from his internal horror ramblings by a light touch on his shoulder. The boy gave a squeak in surprise, spun around and wrenched himself out of the touch. Though the dark haired boy had a super cool fantastic escape maneuver all thought out in his head he, sadly, miscalculated his little spin and landed on his butt right in front of the mysterious person.

He landed with a little umpf and dust poofed around his little body. He looked up, coughing slightly, to the intruder of his thoughts. What he saw surprised him, for it wasn't some thug/policeman/old lady/social worker/earth exploring alien/assassin/terrify hybrid of all of the above like he thought...Yes, he knew he was overly paranoid. Does he care what you think? No.

It was a middle-aged women with a heart shaped face and frizzy hair. Laugh lines lined her face and she had a calloused hand covering her mouth in a surprised expression, or perhaps she was just holding back a small giggle. Her hand left her face to reveal a soft easy smile; "I'm sorry I frightened you."

The boy hmpfed and stood up fast enough to make him stumble and fall once more. The mysterious women covered her mouth, again. The boy ignored it and straightened himself up with his nose up in the air in a dignified manner, though an outsider would say bratty. He didn't even bother to dust himself off because he knew he was already filthy anyways.

"You did not frighten me," he said copying her tone, "I simply chose to observe you from the floor." The boy exclaimed nodding like he was convincing himself too.

"Ahhh" The woman answered nodding also, "I seeā€¦." Her eyes shifted to the orphanage, "Is there something you need?" she asked gesturing toward the worn building. The boy's countenance changed from cheekiness to uneasiness as he glanced toward the orphanage then back at the women.

"Do you...live there?" He whispered, his eyes wide and curious as his feet shuffled and a nervous grin appeared on his face. The woman leaned in going with the mood the young boy was producing and whispered back; "Yes, with all my lovely children." A fond expression covered the woman's face as she said this.

The boy felt hurt just slightly at what the woman said. It still stung to think of the family, that he had left. If it was his choice...but, he should have at least stayed for her...but it didn't matter now. In his internal reflection he didn't realize the arm the snaked around his waist in an unconscious attempt to comfort himself.

The woman watched as the child wrapped his arms around his abdomen and hung his head. A pained look was donned by this mysterious woman, she looked up at her run down orphanage, then to her own run down patched up dress. Her eyes finally landed on this even more rundown child. He was dirty and his clothes were slightly small on him. He was also barefoot with many cuts covering his feet. She let out a silent sigh knowing she could never turn him away. In the back of her head she argued with herself that she could barely take care of the other twenty children in the house, but she would never forgive herself if she let any child go and this child was no exception.

She kneeled down so she was closer to the small child and she wondered how she was to go about doing this. She was always painfully blunt; and it hasn't failed her yet;

"Do you want to join my family, in the orphanage, young one?" she asked softly while she lightly placed her hand on his back. The child flinched slightly, startled at the question and the hand resting on his back, but he didn't jerk away. He brought his head up and gave her a classic 'deer in headlights' look, blinking owlishly. His expression screamed; Huh?

When the boy had looked at the woman's face long enough to realize 'no she wasn't kidding' many emotions raced through him. Some he was expecting; surprise, doubt, fear of abandonment. The other, which he desperately tried to squash the moment he felt it, was hope. Family was a word that wasn't completely foreign to him, but he knew his old family was far from the average.

The woman waited patiently as the little boy thought this over.

'He's very mature for his age' she thought dismayed. It was always hard for her to see this in small children. He wasn't the first, and she knew he wouldn't be the last. There was just something that was utterly disheartening about children being robbed of their wide-eyed innocence. She straightened up a little when the boy turned and set his shoulders, moving to speak.

He darted his head back and forth and shuffled closer to the woman as he leaned in and whispered conspiringly, nodding towards the orphanage; "Are there mean old ladies in there?"

The woman blinked at him a few times before busting up, she snorted and started laughing clutching her sides, even a little tear of laughter escaped as she laughed. The boy was scared *ahem* shocked by the sudden hooting of the once quiet and soft spoken lady. He gave a weak smile and patted his sides uncomfortably while he waited for the weird woman to stop her little laughing fit.

"Ohhh" she sighed whipping tears from her eyes. Taking the boys question as an affirmative for wanting to stay, she promptly turned towards the boy and rested her hands on her round hips.

"Of course not,' here she paused and let out a very un-lady like snort, "what kind of mother do you think I am?!" she said her voice laced with a hysterical edge, which made the boy laugh nervously. Noticing this, the woman spent a moment collecting herself.

The boy sighed with relief when she gained a semblance of normalcy again then squawked when the woman gently pushed him towards the building. Trying desperately not to trip and make a fool of himself again he studied the building more closely than he did before.

Before him were big old fashioned wooden doors with lion-head brass knockers. The woman got out a big old shaped key and unlocked the big door; you could hear the lock turning with a loud click.

'Was this the middle ages?' the boy mused, inspecting the door in bafflement, as it screeched open.

The inside however, he observed, was very modern. When the doors creaked open he was met with the entry way with wood flooring and soft tan walls. In front of him he saw a big, mahogany desk similar to the one you would see at a hotel. It was cluttered with papers and even had one those big, blocky yellowish computers, which was buzzing slightly, however it was left unattended. Judging by the faint annoyed muttering of the woman behind him it was supposed to be occupied. Eying the rest of the room he concluded that, all in all, it was plain but clean and welcoming.

He didn't have much time to take in much more because he was promptly pulled by the hand into a long hallway with many doors. The boy observed with a quirked eyebrow at all the different old fashioned, animal knockers that shared a resemblance to the ones on the front door. The main differences were the size, and each one was a different animal.

'How old was this building? Is that one a duck!?' Unfortunately he couldn't stop and scrutinize it because this was the door the woman apparently was leading him too. When it swung open, what he saw almost made him shriek like a little girl.

'NOT THE BATH!' he wailed in his mind. The boy tried to run away but the plump woman was, surprisingly, as strong as an ox! Before he knew it he was stark naked and being pushed into the watery depths. To his surprise the water wasn't cold like all those (traitorous) boys said it would. It was comfortably warm and he enjoyed it for a whole two seconds before the woman proceed to scrub him raw!

He howled and scratched and took to being bathed as gracefully as a stray cat. After his slight shock he growled and thrashed that he could 'wash himself!' The women took it all in stride and even had the fortitude to look amused, like she did this everyday! After the torture which seemed to last forever the boy was squeaky clean and his previously dark skin was now white with red splotches were the woman scrubbed to hard.

The boy was left rapped in a towel while the woman went to get fresh clothes. He considered making a run for it while cursing himself for agreeing to this...WAIT! He DIDN'T agree to this! The boys' hands flew up to grip his hair in panic, going over the conversation that happened right outside this very building, not but ten minutes ago. He gasped;

"That woman pulled one over me!"

Before he could chew over this too much the woman came back in. He yelled accusingly at her, but she just rolled her eyes with good humor and tossed him new clothes to change into.

He pulled them off his face cautiously, expecting her to come at him and force the clothes on him much like she forced him into the bath a moment ago. She smiled sheepishly looking away, giving him a little privacy as he put the clothes on, and forever the paranoid one; he scrutinized her as he pulled on his pants. This woman made no sense, was she bipolar?

She gave him a soft yellow button up, collared shirt with plain black slacks. Nothing fancy but they smelled nice and beat the rags he was passing as clothes before. And guess what, no grey. He vowed right then and there to get even with those boys for the lies they spouted. Despite the torturous bath session, he was already feeling ten times healthier. As strange as that sounds.

When he was done dressing the woman turned, and they stared at each other questioningly. They both seemed to be waiting for the other to say something first, but neither could think of what to say. The boy couldn't stop himself from fidgeting slightly because of the intense gaze in front of him. She made him...nervous. Not an uneasy nervous, but more of an excited nervousness. It was...odd.

It made him feel...safe, and not just because he knew she was strong, thinking of his bath, but something else. It irked him that he couldn't put his finger on exactly why?

"Do you have a name?" The woman asked smiling, finally breaking the pressuring silence. The question made him still.

Yes, he did. But he didn't want that one anymore. He didn't want that name following him around. Besides, what if they looked it up? They had a computer, he saw it with his own eyes, and they would make him go back. Unacceptable.

He would shed that name, right now. Like a snake's skin, he will rid of it, and let it float away in the wind never to be seen again, and if the wind pushed it back, he would desecrate it. So, with that in mind, the boy lied;

"No, I don't." he gazed up at her, daring her to argue.

The woman felt a distinct chill down her spine at the little boys glare. She almost felt like actual heat was wafting off the boy. None the less, she pushed on barely batting an eye;

"Then I will pick one, and you can tell me what you think. How's that?" She asked quietly, some of the warmth leaving her voice, as she gazed at the glowering boy. His eyes darted to meet hers, and then nodded curtly in agreement. There was a stiff silence, before the woman turned away to think. The young boy looked on in curiosity, animosity burning away with barely a thought. His curiosity peaked even more when, the woman's shoulders seemed to sag in relief when he banished the thoughts away. He didn't even think she was aware of her body's reaction.

The boy silently observed the room around him, for perhaps the fourth time already. It was a habit he had picked, even before he lived on the street, to know his current surroundings. Always.

After his eyes kept resting themselves on a body length mirror at the other side of the room, he made his way over to it. He approached slowly wondering when the last time he even looked in one was.

What he saw made him happy but it also made him grimace too.

He could easily see what he got from them; His straight nose from her, and his strong jaw from him. Sometime after he had left home he had lost most of his baby fat, probably from the lack of steady meals. He loved his hair though. No one had raven black hair like himself; it had this windblown look that stuck up in the back. His narrow black eyes gazed back at him as he clutched the sides of the mirror. His eyes were his own too.

Behind him the woman was having the eternal battle of her life.

'Kevin? No that's horrible! Brian? Nah!'

For the life of her she could not think of anything! She glanced up at the boy that was studying his reflection with a slight frown on his face. Now that he was squeaky clean and cleansed of all the dirt she could readily say he would grow to be handsome young man. Even though the boy was mostly quiet and hadn't said much, other than the yelling in the tub, he was special.

She could feel it; it certainly was a weird feeling though. She could almost feel it under his skin, like that strange wave of heat she felt when his emotions were in turmoil. It, reminded her of the sun being reborn on the horizon every morning...Huh. Reborn.

But that wasn't a proper name, was it? He was definitely Italian, Renatus perhaps? Renata? That's a girl name! You could change one of the letters though...

"Renato." She said aloud, but really it was up to him, "do you like it?"

'Renato.' The boy stared into the reflection of his eyes for a second longer before turning his back on his reflection completely. For the first time that whole evening, a small genuine smile spread on his lips.

"Yeah, I like it." Renato breathed quietly, shrugging.


AN/ Please R&R! Tell me if you liked it, hated it, or simply thought it was an abomination. Was the structure horrible? Was it good? Do you want to raise up an army of grammer/plot/characterization Nazi's to hunt me down for my horrible writing? I want to know! Feed back helps me grow as a writer!