Authors Note: 02/13/16
Okay. SO…I guess you could say I had a moment and thought—well…maybe I did leave off in a bit of a rush and maybe there are a couple of things that I could've done to further the story along and yadda-yadda…long story short—I decided to re-read "Fish…" this and thought to myself—what else could've happened that day and what happened after everything has been settled?
So here it is—the missing link, I suppose. I hope you'd like it. I certainly had fun thinking of things to put in here. The ending will be the same though, so it's entirely up to you if you actually want to even bother and reading the editing and minor adjustments I did to "Fish…" before continuing on to this newest mad episode.
On another completely irrelevant and pointless note—I was tempted to write a sequel—not a terribly long one after re-reading "Fish…" Well more than tempted since I began it already. Just—I thought of some things and it was an intriguing exercise. Tell me what you guys think, okay?
Deals, Denials and Devils You Don't want to know
Life doesn't have any hands, but it can sure give you a slap sometimes.
– Anonymous
It was the single most intimidating thing he has ever laid his eyes on.
Pristine, white and pale as newly fallen snow…the only imperfection it bears comes from the precise lines and groves etched upon its smooth unforgiving façade. For such a small, fragile item it carries all the pomp and pageantry of a cultural treasure promptly set in proud display.
It certainly demanded all the requisite security measure commensurate to a sovereign bestowing favor to the lowly and undeserving hoi polloi.
Placed against the polished, gleaming surface of the antique, eighteenth century partner's desk that has graced the libraries and private rooms of kings, tyrants and crafty old men who played with power and people in countless different ways; it was immutable and uncaring—as if well aware of the weight it bears and the solemnity in which it is destined to be recognized.
Sawada Tsunayoshi, age eighteen and a half, university student and sole offspring of his parents stared at the piece of foolscap that bears his name, a familiar crest and the contents of a contract and couldn't help the words flowed out of his thin, annoyed lips as he stared at a pair of twinkling golden eyes peeking from beneath salt-and-pepper eyebrows.
"What in god's bloody hell is this?!"
By the time Sawada Tsunayoshi reached the age of seven he has learned three inviolable truths that would sustain him for most of his adult life.
One, innocence, optimism and faith must be tempered with an insane amount of common sense or else disaster looms.
Sawada Tsunayoshi adores his mother—she was a wonderful, kind-hearted woman with such a loving and forgiving nature that could rival Bodhisattva herself but she's also ditzier than was probably safe to be allowed especially when it concerns dealing with rest of the populace. Suspicion was a word that didn't exist in her vocabulary. And neither was cynicism, skepticism or even plain distrust. Case in point—her continued insistence that the wastrel she married and fathered him was not a monumental waste of the air he breathed. She calls him a romantic adventure, seeking out grand quests and whatnot—her own rose-colored explanation for why he was not around to be with wife and child.
That led to truth number two: Responsibility is not just a word—it is a vow—so you better make sure you understand what it means before committing to something you cannot fulfill.
Some men were meant for home, hearth and fulfillment of duty. Some men were born not knowing what any of those words mean. Case in point—the man who was married to his mother and the source for the other, more objectionable half of his genetic makeup.
His father was an unreliable schmuck who got lucky finding a woman who tolerated his errant ways and he repaid her trust and devotion by being the worst husband and father ever found in the planet.
His foolish sire vanished after he turned five—ostensibly to pursue his love of adventure—reason only young innocent toddlers, unicorns and his mother would even deign to consider believing. Alas, while not a child or in the possession of animals of questionable mythological origin—his mother however believed in it wholeheartedly. Despite her rather pathetic attempt at romanticizing their mutual abandonment, finding out the truth did little to ease the ache and disappointment which led to his final and life-changing realization.
Truth number three coalesced and solidified after coming home from a thoroughly disappointing day from school—one that resulted in him being repeatedly called a sobriquet that would take him most of his formative preteen years and endless sessions with a therapist to shake off—to find his mother in tears from receiving yet another of the rare post cards his disreputable sire would send home on the extremely rare occasions he would recall that he actually had filial responsibilities.
The sight seared into his mind the third most value lesson of all—there is no one else who could rescue him but himself.
If he wanted to ensure that he turn up nothing like his father or end living up to the degrading nickname his mean-spirited, narrow-minded peers bestowed on him—he must learn to rely on no one else's strength but his own. He must find a way to save himself from a clearly disappointing future because no one else can and will do that for him. Only when he has strength to stand and defend himself will he have the ability to rescue someone else. He needs a plan and a guide and a means of learning that would not cause worry to his mother or bring burden to anyone else.
That's when he made the fate-altering decision to ask his mother to find him a tutor whilst he murmured soothing noises and wiped away the traces of tears from her cheeks.
His mother found a neighbor who recently retired from some kind of consulting work who offered his tutoring services for a minimal fee and a guarantee of three square meals a day plus tea.
The tutor appeared the next day. And Sawada Tsunayoshi has never looked back since.
Eighteen Hours Ago
Namimori University, Namimori Japan.
To all but the most discernible observer Sawada Tsunayoshi was the embodiment of a run-of-the-mill, typical university student who, like all those of like-minded tendencies and limited budget, gravitates towards the University's Food Centre to peruse and partake in the daily offerings of victuals for the thousands of hungry denizens that call Namimori U home.
This image would've persisted and nothing more would've been said—after all the young man bore all the markings of an ordinary member of the academe— pale skin exhaustion brought about by heavy study load and many late nights already making their mark on the young man's bloodshot, bleary gaze; messy, untamed locks made even more so by hands running through it countless times in agitation and nervousness; the slightly creased albeit clean clothing of one whose care is primarily undertaken through one's own effort.
Indeed, Sawada Tsunayoshi's entire image called to mind such ordinariness, such commonplace existence that it is expected that any interaction with the boy would result in a moment forgotten in the usual flood of everyday occurrence if not for the fact that a few minutes after the thoroughly ordinary and mundane university student Sawada Tsunayoshi stepped off the curb, a shiny black Lincoln Town Car skidded to a halt in front of him and a bunch of black suited men came out and proceeded to pull a black bag over his head and bodily sweep the young man into their arms, hauling him off the street and bundling him into the dark depths of the car before peeling off in a rush leaving behind nothing but the distinct smell and markings of burnt rubber and a bunch of gob-smacked witnesses uncertain exactly of what it was they just saw.
Tsunayoshi pulled off the fabric bag off his head with a sniff, sputtering indignantly, "Reborn! How many times do I have to tell you—you don't need to keep doing things like this—contrary to your demented mindset I really don't enjoy being—oh."
As Sawada Tsunayoshi stared at the unknown figures around him and finally realized what had occurred, he could only sigh in frustration.
Great. Just great. My day just took a turn for the worse.
Now, ordinarily—one would expect a kidnap victim to be shocked, paralyzed by fear, or tearful and pleading for mercy. In the case of one Sawada Tsunayoshi, one might be lucky to guess that the blank look on his face was simply an excellent mask that veiled his nerves or his trepidation.
This would not be an accurate assessment or guess. For in truth, the young man was not fearful, traumatized, surprised or even intimidated. No, for all that an unforeseen abduction was a shock to the system—all that the young man displayed was the visage of one who is thoroughly incensed for having his carefully constructed scheduled interrupted.
He noted the burly, muscled men who flanked him before his gaze turned towards the dark-suited figure that sat across from him and decided that this man is the leader given the almost smug, insolent air he was displaying for all to see. It was almost anti-climactic how the man was playing with the clichéd image of a privileged scion of the mafia. No older than thirty his kidnapper-du jour looked like he just stepped out of the pages of a magazine. Salon-styled blond coiffure, aristocratic features haughty and a lithe body clad expensively in the first stare of fashion. The man's icy, shrewd blue gaze was not unsurprising. Neither was the supercilious smirk painting his pale, thin lips.
Running a hand through his messy hair, Tsunayoshi tried to compose himself and wondered, idly, if he would have time to catch dinner before things in his life descends into chaos once more. He noted the increasing level of tension in the vehicle and decided that he needed to move things along. He was after all—on a schedule.
He took a deep breath and hoped the other men would begin. When more than two minutes passed and no words were forthcoming, he exhaled softly and proceeded to prod his clearly lackadaisical abductors with a brisk nod and a smile.
"Hmm. Well, gentlemen? May we hurry things along? I have things to do."
As expected it was the elegantly suited man who spoke, his voice refined and smooth but tinged with a smoky undertone that revealed a significant portion of his life spent in the company of cigarettes.
"Your bravado does you credit Young Master. I'm most impressed."
Tsuna blew out a breath at the condescending tone and wished heartily that the men who grabbed him hadn't tossed the cup of coffee he had just bought for his lunch. He glanced at the man who was gazing at him like he was some prize he finally nabbed and resisted the urge to sigh.
Really, why couldn't I be abducted by a bumbling idiot? At least that might've been interesting.
Wrestling with his wayward attention that started to stray, Tsuna tried to concentrate on his reply lest his current host was not the type to have a sense of humor.
"I'm afraid your admiration is the least of my concern. Especially since I have yet to know whose questionable hospitality I am currently enjoying."
The man gave him a rueful smile that might've been mistaken for being charming had it not been for the calculating look in his cold blue eyes.
"Ah—my apologies Young Sawada—where are my manners!" He placed a well-kept hand across his chest and bowed his head gallantly. "I am Federico Petruccio, current Head of the Ezio Famiglia. It is a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance, Signor Vongola."
Tsuna was glad the man hadn't offered a hand. He wouldn't have known what the policy was when it comes to general niceties especially concerning kidnappers and members of the Underworld that he kept finding underfoot.
"I'm sorry that I cannot share your pleasure. I'm afraid you may have taken the wrong man."
The man's chilly blue eyes flashed and his voice descended into its more natural growl as he rasped, "Dio Mio—do my ears deceive me or is this possible? Dare you, Young Sawada hurl accusations of incompetence in my face? Here? While I hold you captive?"
Tsuna shook his head side to side emphatically at the sight of the man's livid face; his hands lifted in alarm, waving the appendages to refute the perceived offense.
"No! Oh gods no! I am just trying to tell you that I am not Vongola—not for another two or three years at the very least but I can understand the misunderstanding. You must've received bad information. I am sure you wish to speak with the current Vongola."
"You must think me foolish to be misled by your apparent youth and casual attire. I assure you my resources are impeccable Young Master Sawada. You are here because you are exactly who I require for what I desire."
The man gave out a grating chuckle that made Tsuna wince. He curled his hands into fists before he could give in to the urge to rub his ears. He didn't actually want his body to reveal any sort of reaction to the man's expression of glee.
"I am certain your desires are, to you at least, worthy of all this fuss but as I mentioned— I am not the one you wish and I have prior obligations and such."
"Expediency is something I advocate myself Young Master and if cooperate and do as you are told, then perhaps will come through this little escapade unharmed. All we need is a bit of your time, that's all."
Well…someone is certainly enjoying playing a bad man, Tsuna mused irritably. The man is clearly in need of a hobby.
"Time? Not ransom then?" Tsuna glanced at the smirking older man and shook his head. "No…I don't think so. You don't look like you're hurting for funds seeing as you're surrounded by your personal goon squad and this is quite obviously your limo. I suppose you're going to leverage me for something?"
"Very good. That indeed, is the idea Young Master Sawada. So we'll be taking you for a nice long drive. I suggest you take your time to get your bearings and relax."
The man clearly reveled in his current predicament. It was a moment of profound realization for Tsuna to finally understand that something about the whole drama of being abducted oddly appealing to members of the Mafia.
It certainly explained his own Famiglia's propensity for the deed that he could no longer find any alarm in finding himself the victim of yet another one.
"If I might make an observation, I really don't think this is a sound decision. Kidnapping me really isn't something I would recommend and I'm afraid I have a prior engagement that I simply cannot miss. The person I have to deal with isn't the most patient or understanding sort, so if you could just pull over right here I would be ever so grateful."
"Ah…young Vongola—this insouciance you display is commendable—why I am almost intrigued by your lack of wariness. Is this not the first time you have been taken against your will?
Tsuna wondered if he should tell the truth. Weighing his options, he was not quite certain the man would recover from the knowledge and that might not be something he could stand to have on his conscience but then again, he hasn't had much progress with his own family so maybe an outsider might have a better understanding of his experience.
Clearing his throat, he stole a glance at the smug older man and found himself sighing. The man was clearly enamored with this whole "kidnapping-to-get-what-I-want" mindset. It was—Tsuna decided—in retrospect and in keeping with the whole idea of nipping problems in the bud before it becomes something worse—his duty to speak his mind.
Might as well disabuse him of the notion.
"Well…to be frank—no. I'm an old hand at kidnapping; frankly the entire experience is becoming a bit passé."
The man was clearly flustered by this information and his words came sputtering out.
"A bit passé? Being abducted is becoming—wait a minute—exactly how many times have you been kidnapped Signor Sawada?"
Discomfited to realize that he has put himself on the spot, Tsuna tried his best to be as ambiguous as possible.
"Including this one?",he hedged.
"Yes." came the gritted reply.
"With clear intent to harm or gain something?" he murmured.
The man's eyes flashed once more. "Of course!"
"With show of excessive force and threats?"
"Damn it yes!" Signor Ezio barked.
"Questionably comfortable hide out notwithstanding?"
"Just answer the fucking question!"
"One last thing."
"What!"
Tsuna blinked at the clearly incensed Don and taking a gulp of breath, muttered rapidly a burst of breathless words.
"Does-it-count-if-I-include-the-times-when-the-kidnappings-done-by-my-own-organization?"
"Yes, of course including—! What the fuck you talking about?"
Startled at the man's relapse into a much saltier speech, Tsuna sat staring at the man before rubbing the back of his head sheepishly, as he murmured in resignation. "Well you could say that's how I was introduced to my Famiglia. They kidnapped me so that I could be their boss."
"Wait—what?! Are you saying your own organization kidnapped you?"
"Kidnaps." Tsuna quipped.
"Kidnapped. Kidnaps—what's the fucking difference?"
Tsuna blinked at the man, perplexed at the man's rather obtuse response. Surely he should know the difference between the two?
"They haven't just kidnapped me—that implies a singular incident."
"Are you saying they've done more than kidnap you once?"
Tsuna nodded, eager to explain now that the Don's face showed his own shock and confusion. Perhaps the man would be one of the rare ones who would understand Tsuna's chagrined feelings on the matter?
"To say the least. It's actually kinda nostalgic, you know. In a few weeks, I do believe I would be celebrating—hmm…goodness, about half a year since my very first abduction."
"Signor Sawada this farce has gone long enough! You have had your fun and your games but now comes the time for a more serious discussion so I suggest you desist recounting these ridiculous lies of yours—!"
Tsuna howled, affronted at the man's accusation. "I am not lying!"
"Of course you are! There is no conceivable reason why such an honored Famiglia like the Vongola would descend to utter the madness of abducting their own heir for any reason save for security and even then it is utterly ludicrous for you to persist in calling such security measures such fanciful terms. Now, as I was saying, we have matters to attend to—now, what is going on here? Giuliano why are we stopping?"
The burly man on Tsuna's left who has remained staunchly silent the whole time gave out a grunt and made a move forward to open rap at the privacy division of the car when its doors were suddenly yanked open, hauling both musclemen out and a familiar face and figure slid smoothly next to Tsuna seat.
"That will be because we've blocked out every road going to and from this road for the next two miles."
"Y-you!"
"Reborn!" Tsuna called out before his voice cut off abruptly at the look that his tutor leveled his way.
"Dame Tsuna. Getting into scrapes again, worthless student of mine?"
Quailing from Reborn's gaze, Tsuna gulped back his nerves and tried his best to explain. "T-this is not my fault! I-I—was at just getting lunch when they just came and—!"
Reborn blinked and Tsuna found his courage and voice suddenly die out. He could only whimper when Reborn's lips twitched into its tell-tale smirk. "That is not a worthy excuse, Dame Tsuna. Rest assured, we will discuss the matter at length when we get home." Turning towards the other figure that shared their quaint little space, Reborn pinned the rapidly paling man with an imperious look and a raised eyebrow. "Don Ezio."
"Y-you! What are you doing here Arcobaleno?" Federico blustered but it was evident to anyone with an ounce of brain power and a good pair of eyes that the Ezio Don was trembling like a leaf and was two clicks away from fainting dead away. Tsuna noted the man's color and wondered if it was possible to get that red under any circumstance without serious medical repercussion.
"Retrieving my charge. I appreciate having you pick him up from school. You have certainly saved me a considerable commute. You have my thanks Don Ezio."
"You c-can't just t-take him A-arcob-baleno! I-I have n-need for the young V-v-vongola—!" the man stammered.
"Do you now, Federico Ezio? Will you really sit there and state a claim on the Heir of the Vongola without the proper dispensation from your Famiglia, your Alliance and without the knowledge and express permission of the Head of the Vongola Famiglia? Will you sit there and challenge my claim to my student?"
Reborn left the babbling, hyperventilating don without a backward glance, one hand snagging the thin wrist of his gaping student as he marched back into the waiting car, murmuring normally as if making a banal observation on the weather.
"Come on Tsuna, time's a-wasting and you have other tasks to accomplish today and you're already behind schedule."
"I was about to get home when I got waylaid. You can't blame this on me Reborn, come on, that's not fair!"
Reborn waved a hand towards an almost identical looking black limousine and Tsuna grudgingly slid in, grimacing when his tutor slid to the opposite bench to pin him with his usual imposing look.
"Your lack of situational awareness caused us delays and not inconsiderable inconvenience. Fret not, it would be addressed as soon as I can free some time. Come now, Dame Tsuna, we have a meeting to attend."
Reborn tapped against the partition and the car slid smoothly back into traffic. As the verdant fields started filling his view, Tsuna tried once more to rally his defense and make his tutor see his point.
"You didn't have to stage a kidnapping just to get me to attend a meeting. You could've just called me and I would've gone."
"There wasn't enough time."
Tsuna scoffed. "You found time to organize a stand-off worthy of a spaghetti western in the middle of nowhere but not a phone call?"
Reborn stared at Tsuna until Tsuna could feel sweat blooming on every inch of his skin. It nearly took everything he had not to fidget under that pitiless gaze.
"Stop sassing me brat. I didn't stage a stand-off—I rescued you from a kidnapping—again. This habit of yours of being abducted is becoming rather tedious, Dame Tsuna. Do you know how many hours we have to negotiate between here and the family headquarters not including the time I have to waste looking for you whenever you get inconvenience by every incompetent idiot with visions of grandeur by taking over your famiglia?"
Rubbing a hand across his brow, Tsuna conceded his Tutor's point and made a mental note to never again stand alone on areas that could easily be accessible by both muscle and vehicle. He really should've known better. Giving his tutor a short, sharp nod, he turned towards the matter at hand.
"I told you I sleep lightly enough that I'd more likely be awake when they do make the call. I knew the time difference Reborn and I've made peace with being disturbed at all hours of the day. You certainly had no compunction when you were still teaching me. As for the kidnappings—it's not like I like being forcibly taken—whether by organized crime lord-wannabes or the local law enforcement. Seriously, you'd think people have better things to do than kidnap a university student."
Reborn snorted dismissively. "And I told you this decision of yours to continue living in Namimori to finish your degree is lacking in practicality."
This time it was Tsuna who raised his chin enough to pin his tutor with his own lambent gaze, eyes the color of sun-struck citrine stared at the impassive Arcobaleno and waited for the man to meet his eyes. When Reborn finally deigned to do so, Tsuna spoke simply and clearly, his voice soft and implacable as steel.
"Practicality notwithstanding, I will graduate. I will have a degree. It makes no difference to me that I'm inheriting a 400-year old antiquated gang full of eccentric geriatrics and trigger-happy weirdoes that defy normal psychological assessment—most of whom I would have to manage for the rest of my life—I promised myself and my mother before all this madness came to light that I will earn myself a degree and a means of supporting myself and that's what I intend to do—mafia or no mafia. I made a promise and I will not be made to break it—not by anything or anyone."
"You have an obligation—" Reborn began but Tsuna raised a hand and the strongest of the Arcobaleno's found himself subsiding in his seat to listen.
"One that I have every intention of honoring regardless of what others may believe. You don't need to constantly remind me what I agreed to do. You, more than any one, knows the truth that my word is my bond. You have nothing to fear. I'm not in the nature of reneging on any promises I make. I will become the head of the family but this is something I owe myself. Now, this matter is no longer up for discussion, yes?"
When the Arcobaleno gave a short nod the air between them suddenly lightened; as if whatever tension that lingered before was wiped clean and their status quo was once again restored—mentor and apprentice sat before one another—one waiting instruction and the other ready to give it.
"Fine."
Tsuna smiled at his tutor before returning to the matter at hand, "Now, why don't you tell me what's the reason I had to be abducted in plain view of every resident in my town while I was hollering my head off like a deranged clown?"
"I didn't kidnap you—!"
Tsuna shrugged and gave his tutor an impish smile. "Let us pretend that you did not make prior plans to do exactly what Don Ezio managed to do in your stead and just tell me of your news."
"I got a call. The Old Man wants to see you."
Tsuna groaned aloud. "Oh shoot. What does he want now?"
"Don't worry; I'm sure it's not a big deal." Reborn gave his student a smirk and Tsuna gave in and finally snorted in disbelief.
"Yeah, like this entire upheaval in my life didn't begin with the Old Man wanting to speak with me. Back then, you said it wasn't a big deal. Remember that?" Tsuna reminded his tutor and the man gave him a glowering look.
Smoothing down the lines of his jacket before adjusting his signature fedora, Reborn pursed his lips in thought before giving in to the urge to smirk.
"Like I'd forget something like that."