Disclaimer:: I do not own KHR!, or anything related to it. I make no money from the creation of this fic.

Author's Note:: This entire piece is based around the idea that Tsuna doesn't like the cold, an idea I got from watching the episode with the snowball fight early on in the anime. I wondered why he wouldn't like the cold, and while it could be just preference, I wondered if maybe there was something more to it. So you can consider this another head-canon of mine about the consequences of Tsuna being Sealed as a child. I hope you all enjoy! Let me know if there's anything else you would like to see!

Note:: Apparently, my first attempts to upload this fic had some major issues with the formatting. Thanks to everyone who messaged me to let me know about the problem!

No one ever asked Tsuna why he hated winter. And even if they had, he wasn't entirely sure what he'd say. After all, it wasn't the season that he hated. Not at all. It was the cold. He hated the cold. Had for years. He'd hated and avoided it for so long, that Tsuna couldn't remember when it had started. All he knew was that he couldn't stand the way the cold air seeped down into his lungs and made him freeze from the inside out. He couldn't stand the chill that curled into the space around his heart, constricting around the life-preserving muscle in a frozen manacle that tightened with every breath.

He hated the way he couldn't get warm during the winter months, no matter what he tried: he would cocoon himself in his bed with as many blankets as he could find, but the cold would still somehow find its way through into his bones. He would layer himself with so many jackets and scarves he could barely move, and yet it didn't stop the cold. And whenever the cold got to him, a place in his chest ached, like his heart had frozen solid. It was like burning, like freezing, like a pain that wouldn't fade no matter what he tried.

But no one ever asked why he hated winter. No one ever asked why he'd try to hide away in an attempt to stay warm. No one noticed the way he'd cringe at an especially strong gust of freezing wind, or how he'd clutch his chest for a moment, sure that his heart had frozen and stopped in his chest before remembering that it couldn't do that. No one noticed and no one asked.

Not until years later, when he'd finally accepted that he was Vongola Decimo, and he was spending some time with the Varia, for training they said, and Xanxus had taken one look at his expression when the first true gust of winter hit before herding him back inside the mansion and into his office. Tsuna found himself sat down across from the Varia boss, his hands wrapped around a hot drink, a blanket draped across his shoulders and sharp red eyes studying him. Xanxus didn't ask him either, but looking at his face, at the scars stretching across his cheek, at the odd glint in his unusually gentle eyes, Tsuna thought that maybe he didn't ask because he didn't need to. He already knew.