We Are Vongola

Once Forgotten

Summary: Nana may be oblivious at times, but it doesn't mean she'll sit back and pretend her son won't be torn apart in oblivion.

A/N: Happy New Years! Well, it's still considered New Years over where I'm at, but to those already living in 2019, Happy Belated New Years!

Once again, this one-shot was originally supposed to be a story, but it doesn't mean that can't happen. Just let me, uh, stop creating new notes for new stories and we'll get there. Eventually.

Also, I absolutely did struggle with naming this one (am I going to name it the initial story title? Heck no, it's not even a tenth of what the story's going to delve into), so I just named the part.

Thank you all for sticking with me in 2018. Hopefully, you will too this year. I'll try my best to update within the time span.

Happy 2019!

• • •

Nana busies herself in the kitchen, washing the dishes until they shine. The natural light filtering in from the window compliments the morning, and she appreciates the amount of work being done: the table mysteriously cleaned, the chairs tucked in the right place, and even the dishes being dried and stacked when she wasn't looking.

She makes breakfast for herself, humming as she hears the news reporting from the living room. She planned on watching the news but hadn't had the chance of opening the television yet. Without missing a beat, she continues on to the living room, carrying her meal with her.

An ad comes on just then, something about the rate of child neglect awareness. But it only lasts a second before it's gone and Nana blinks, resuming with her meal.

It is only when she puts away her plates that she remembers.

"Ah, Tsu-kun!" She calls, staring at the stairs. No one comes down. Hm. Should she make her way up?

As Nana ponders, the hem of her shirt is pulled down. She straightens it subconsciously, still in on her train of thought. When it occurs again, Nana glances down to identify the source.

"Tsu-kun! You have to tell me you're here when I call you! I didn't even see you down the stairs!" She scolds, but at the sight of his eyes, she gives in and embraces him. A smile tugs on her face when he hugs her back tightly.

"Sorry, Kaa-san," he murmurs.

"It's fine. I'm sorry for ignoring your call. Let's go to school now."

Tsuna grips onto her hand—more like her two fingers, as his hand wasn't quite big enough—tightly, unwilling to let go even when she needs to slip on her shoes. She manages to do the task using one hand, before helping her son with his as well. She squeezes his nose as she stands up, smiling down at him teasingly as he stares up at her in utter bafflement. His head tilts were adorable.

"You have to let go of my hand when I need to do things, Tsu-kun. You can't follow me into the bathroom," she reminds, giggling.

"Sorry," he whispers. His grip on her fingers tightens.

"You just have to remember."

"Re . . . reme—"

"Re-mem-ber," Nana iterates. "It means not to forget."

"Oh." Tsuna seems thoughtful over the meaning of the new word. Nana can't stop the corner of her lips from turning up, and since she can't quite squeeze his hand, she settles for ruffling his already wild hair.

"Just remember," she says.

He nods his head obediently. Content with his response, Nana opens the door and steps outside, breathing in the welcome cool morning breeze. Their walk to school is peaceful, but Tsuna's grip on her two fingers never loosens. If anything, she's afraid that she might not be able to use her fingers anymore. When they reach the school, Nana withholds a sigh of relief at the tingles of her fingers, a sign that they were still capable of moving.