Summary:

"The Estraneo are back."

At the age of eighteen, Tsuna is prepared to ascend the title of Vongola Decimo, but plans for a seamless ascension is disrupted when the supposedly dead Estraneo Famiglia rears its ugly head when Tsuna saves a young boy from their clutches. But everything once again becomes infinitely more complicated when the young boy somehow recognizes Tsuna. (Eventual Pairings) (minor All27)

Disclaimer: Swearing


The sound of naked feet pattering on cobblestone echoed throughout the unusually quiet city of Sicily. The dim yellow glow of the street lights faintly outlined threadbare cloth and stick thin legs that acquired a sickly pallor from the lights as they swiftly moved with a frightened eagerness.

"There he is. Catch him!"

Tiny feet picked up pace as the thundering sound of heavy footed beasts giving chase picked up in a frightening crescendo. Up ahead down the street shined what appeared to be a bar, the only lit building on the entire street. In a moment of quick thinking, the young child sped up towards the light like a moth to a flame. Just a few yards away. The door handle was just within his reach but as his slim hands stretched out to grasp it, he was sharply tugged from behind releasing a shrill squeak that was cut off as his voice caught, his pulled clothing choking him. The young boy struggled as his feet lost contact with the cold ground.

"Why you little brat. Thought you could escape us didn't you?" sneered one of the men.

His gruff voice promised a world of pain in the near future and only spurred the boy as he continued to writhe and claw at the beast's forearm. The boy was delighted when he felt warm sticky liquid on his fingertips and heard a pained howl from behind him. He was quickly dropped and winced as he made impact with the ground. There were bound to bruises, but that was the least of his worries. His small victory was short lived. He now had three enraged beasts encircling him.

"You little. . ." spoke another one of the beasts threateningly. "Feeling rebellious huh? Guess we need to teach you a little lesson about insolent little brats like you."

The young child was caught off guard, gasping, as a he felt a swift kick to his gut accompanied by a sharp crack. A broken rib. For a solid minute, he was subject to an assault of kicks all over his body. He did his best to hold himself together thinking to himself he has experienced worse but his resolve faltered as he received a heavy blow to his head. All of a sudden his body felt unlike his own. His vision swam, blurring the hovering men into shapeless black monsters. His mind was filled with a thick fog, leaving him unable to think straight. However, just as the young boy's mind was about to slip into unconsciousness, a firm clear voice resonated, cutting through the dense mist like a hot knife through butter.

"What is going on here?"

With those mere five words, the commotion stopped. The three men surrounding the child slowly turned to evaluate the interrupter. Similarly, the young boy rolled over on his side, ignoring the pain all over his body, to view the source of the demanding voice.

In front of the bar door stood a slender figure dressed to the nines: black slacks, a suit, and a tie. The bright lights from inside the bar shone directly behind them creating an orange aura of light around them but left their face cast in darkness. The person could have easily been for a female with their thin waist and shoulders and relatively short height if it weren't for the faintly baritone notes of the voice characteristic of males. Their posture exuded confidence, legs spread shoulder width apart, back straight, and head held high. The young boy was enraptured, eagerly absorbing the figure's presence and praying for a savior, and it seemed as if the three men were similarly captivated. They were rooted to their spot.

"I do not like repeating myself. What is going on here?"

The sharp edge behind the words pulled the men out of their reverie. One man, with the bleeding forearm, gathered his wits faster than the others. His stunned face pulled and contorted into a facade of control and calmness.

He stepped away from the child curled into himself on the ground. From the figure's perspective, he could see a shaking mound of dingy white fabric tinged with the pink of blood.

The man raised his bleeding arm and then gestured to the young boy.

"This insolent street rat tried to pickpocket me. He even drew blood, so my pals and I were trying to teach him a little lesson. Ya'know, prevent this from happening to any other unsuspecting and unfortunate chaps."

The man searched the figure's shadowed face for a notion of sympathy but he was met with an impassive calculating gaze. Time slowly ticked by, both parties unmoving as the bar buzzed lively in the background. Quickly the bleeding man became restless under the figure's discomfiting gaze. His eye began to twitch and his right foot fidgeted up and down, the clicking between his shoe's sole and the ground filling the void.

He couldn't understand why he felt as disturbed as he did. He couldn't even meet the figure's hooded eyes. The man in front of him hardly said a sentence and hadn't moved a step from his spot; yet his mere presence, his aura, was enough to render the man speechless.

Finally, the bleeding man snapped. "What at you looking at? This is none of your business?"

"None of my business?" the suited man innocently inquired. "Why hardly. What kind of upstanding citizen would I be if I were to leave alone such a blatant act of public abuse?"

"Upstanding citizen?" the bleeding man scoffed. "What are you? Some sort of vigilante Robin Hood?"

For some reason this seemed to throw off the suited man. Suddenly, startling all present parties, the young man flopped seating himself on the step in front of the bar. He raised a slender hand illuminated by the bar light up to his small face in contemplation.

"Robin Hood? But I am a criminal. . .A good criminal? . . . Possibly. . ." The young man muttered to himself under his breath. "But green tights are hideous. . ."

With that, the startled tension in the air dissipated. Enraged, the older male ground his teeth and coated his hands with a ruby red flame that snaked outwards swarming the surrounding air.

"I don't have time for your drunken shenanigans. Sayonara, you unfortunate bastard. You messed with the wrong people."

The older male rushed at the seated figure, aiming his fist for his face, but the sound of breaking skull never resounded.

The boy on the ground risked a quick glance at the two figures in front of him. Through his haze, he could have sworn the suited male's eyes glowed a bright amber as the man he had clawed approached. In front of him, the younger male had caught the red swathed fist barehanded. The boy couldn't repress a shudder as he felt the killer aura that rolled off the man like a tsunami threatening swallow everything and anyone in its way. In comparison, the bleeding man's aura was a tiny puppy that quickly bowed down to the alpha male. It was odd how such a slight male with such an obvious height difference could seem even more intimidating than the burly armed man.

"I must thank you for the nickname. I very much like the ring of it. Robin Hood," the suited man smoothly commented. "Here let me show my gratitude."

The male's fist tightened, crunching bone and mangling fingers causing the prone man in front of him let out an unnatural cry.

"But rather, I believe you are the unfortunate fools in this situation."

The two other lackeys raised their fists, lighting them in colored flames.

"I eat child-beating cowards. . . or herbivores as Kyouya would say. . . like you for breakfast."

In a blur, the suited male twisted the bleeding man's arm, the bone audibly snapping. Just as the man dropped to the ground passed out, before the two other men could react, the young man appeared in front of one of the men, delivering a solid fist to the gut that had the older male bent over in pain. As the other lackey reacted in an attempt to surprise the suited male, he pivoted on his right foot, nailing the man's head with a roundhouse kick that sent him flying across the street slumped against a light post. The young man immediately reverted to a neutral pose and ended the fight with a quick snap of the neck of the man who was still bent over in pain.

Nonchalantly, the young man grabbed his right shoulder as he swung around his arm for a bit as if loosening it up.

"You guys were hardly a workout. Even Lambo could beat you guys blindfolded."

With a feline grace, the young man bent over to inspect his fallen victims, patting his most recent kill down for identification. Running his hands down the arms, he stopped suddenly as he felt the familiar coldness of metal on the fingers. He raised the hand up, the light from the bar catching in the shiny surface.

"Oh crap." The young man swore vehemently.

Reflecting in the light was a serpentine ring coiled several times over. But what stood out the most was the accursed insignia, one that was supposed to have been wiped off the face of the earth over ten years ago.

The man spared a glance at the young child who was now passed out and another at the ring that he now pulled off the dead man's hand. The dots slowly began to connect within his mind.

He let out an exasperated sigh.

"All I wanted was a peaceful night and a drink or two or three."

Quickly the suited man dragged the male who he broke the arm of, pulling him into the recesses of the nearby alley. The man had fainted, his chest rising laboriously ever so slightly. The suited man tucked him behind the dumpster of the bar, wrapping him in some chains that were conveniently littering the nearby area.

After double checking the strength of the bonds, the young man rushed back to the prone figure on the ground, hefting the much too light bundle over his shoulders. There was still a pulse but the boy was feverish and most likely suffering from a concussion. He needed to see a doctor as soon as possible.

The young male raised a hand to pet the boy's ratty brown hair in a way he hoped was comforting. Unconsciously, the boy nuzzled his palm causing a small smile to creep up on the older's face.

"Tsuna," the boy muttered under his breath. The young man's hand froze in the hair.

With that, the man rushed off north with the child over his shoulders.

"Hayato is going to have my head."


"Jyuudaime! Where have you been – Oh my god. Is that blood on you?"

Gokudera Hayato had been pacing around the main lobby of the Vongola Mansion for the past several hours after his boss suddenly announced that he would be grabbing a drink and that no one was to follow him. Not even Gokudera. Despite Tsuna's constant promises that he would be fine as he made a beeline for the front door, Gokudera worried nonetheless. Even though Gokudera was accustomed to his boss's strange habits and empathized with his desire to get away from the restrictive and heavy atmosphere of the mansion, he was always thrown in a panicked frenzy until his boss was home safe.

Actually, maybe this reprieve would be good for Tsuna. Gokudera knew he was stressed with the coronation coming up and everything. But no. Knowing his boss's history, Tsuna was a magnet for bad luck and always arrived in some sort of disarray whether it be from tripping on the street or having a tussle with a cat. It was typically something minor, but today was different.

Standing in front of Gokudera was a harried Tsunayoshi Sawada. His fluffy brown hair was windswept and his suit was covered in dried blood stains. What surprised Gokudera the most though was the figure cradled in his boss's arms. It looked like a young child, but the bloodied cloth surrounding it was enough to halt Gokudera in his tracks.

"It's not my blood."

Tsuna easily maneuvered around Gokudera's frozen figure towards one of the numerous couches in the room. Carefully he laid down the child and shrugged off his jacket, placing it carefully over the body.

"I need you to wake up Ryohei and give Shamal a call as well. I don't care what he says about only taking care of women. This is a child that is in dire need of medical attention. Probably has a concussion and several broken bones. "

The serious tone in his boss's voice broke Gokudera out of his reverie and set him into motion. He floundered around the room a bit before pressing the intercom to call for Ryohei.

"And Hibari," Gokudera started, having not noticed the cloud guardian hovering near the door frame. "I need you to pick up a man I left behind at the Boar's Pub. He is tied up in chains behind the dumpster in the alleyway. Please bring him back in one piece, but feel free to dispose of the other two bodies if they aren't gone already. When you get back, set him up in the interrogation room downstairs and meet me in the Giotto's room."

Hibari merely grunted in affirmation before disappearing without a word with Hibird trailing him tweeting cheerily.

"Giotto's room?" Gokudera inquired.

He just woke up Ryohei who was currently rushing downstairs to the main room, but he was perplexed. Typically congregations were held in the main meeting room. Giotto's room was never used except for matters of utmost importance and secrecy. Only the guardians had access with their rings with Reborn, the other Arcobaleno, and Nono being the only exceptions.

"Yes. I need you also to wake up all of my guardians and Reborn. ONLY. Call them to Giotto's immediately. I need them all present for this." Tsuna said from his seated position next to the boy on the coach. He continued to caress the boy's hair.

"Wait, Jyuudaime." Gokudera pleaded. "What happened that you need all of this so urgently?"

Tsuna reached into his slack's pocket and pulled out a small shiny object. Gokudera had to take several steps closer to identify it, but once he did, his eyes visibly widened.

"Impossible," he muttered under his breath.

Tsuna returned the startled and perplexed gaze with a steely one of his own.

"The Estraneo are back."


"What do you mean you lost the brat?"

"Please calm down. We have three men on his trail."

"It's been four fucking days since then! Where is the brat headed?"

" . . . Sicily."

Hefty hands slammed on a desk, rattling all objects resting on top, toppling some over.

"What if HE finds the brat?"

Hands raked over a face as it released a sigh.

"You know what, I can work with this. The coronation is coming up. The plan will just have to move up a month or so. Gather all of your men. We've got some work to do."


"Mitsuki, what are you doing up? It's so late. You should be sleeping like the others."

"I can't sleep."

Feet shuffled, stopping at the small figure standing on her tiptoes gazing at the moon streaming through prison bars.

"You should at least try."

"But I'm worried." The small figure turned her head to reveal a tear streaked face and watery eyes.

"I know Mistuki. We all are."

"But," she hiccupped, "but what if Narumi is dead? He should have never tried to escape."

The larger figure reached over, pulling her into their embrace, stroking her head in a soothing manner.

"Shhh. Have faith in him Mitsuki. We all know Narumi is incredibly strong and resourceful. Why, even the gods' wouldn't be able to knock him down. He is stubborn like a bull."

The young girl sniffled and stepped away from the warm embrace to scrub at her face.

"Yes. Even my flicks to his forehead didn't faze him."

The larger figure let out a quiet chortle.

"Very true. That is why Narumi has to be alive right now. Have faith in him.

"Now, let's get you to bed, okay? Good night Mitsuki."

"Good night . . . Tsuna."


A/N:

Wasn't that an action packed chapter! And look, I started a new fic . . .but don't worry. I don't plan on neglecting my other fics. I just couldn't ignore this little plot bunny. Or not so little. . .BIG plot bunny.

Well, hope you enjoyed!