Note: I was debating on making this a series, but ultimately decided not to. Thank you for reading, nonetheless!

Musical Norm

Orithyea

The blares of the stereos erupted in the large area, mixing with the screams and shouts of the thousands of people on the ground. Red, yellow, green, and blue lights scattered throughout the entire venue, accentuating the varied expressions of the men and women and of the boys and girls.

Tsuna could feel his sweat trickling down from his forehead all the way to his neck. His olive-green shirt had started sticking to his skin and his leather pants had begun to feel slightly uncomfortable. Nonetheless, the adrenaline rush he gets whenever he performs was still pure and full. He tightened his grip on the microphone, savoring the thrill and bliss of seeing people enjoy themselves.

The band had stopped playing and was replaced with thunderous applause and caterwauling. Tsuna breathed heavily and beamed. His eyes flickered a little to the right. There he is, he thought, seeing an expressionless raven-haired man. He eyed the man and wasn't surprised to see him looking back at him. It was some sort of weird routine for the two. The Vongola would play, the man would be there, they'd look at each other, and for the finale, the man would suddenly vanish.

"Tsuna, hey." He snapped out of his reverie and looked back at the drummer. "The end remarks."

Tsuna blinked. "Oh, right, right! Sorry." Gripping the microphone once more, he faced the audience, smiling. "And that concludes the night! Thank you so much to everyone that came and I hope you all look forward for the next one. Good night, everybody!" He bowed, as well as the other members. As he straightened up, his eyes went back to the man who was gazing at him intently. Tsuna inhaled deeply, then exhaled slowly. It was caramel to steel, steel to caramel.

It was stupendously and utterly captivating.

His legs had started moving, aching to go near the man, when he heard his name being called. "Tsuna, come on. What are you doing?" Yamamoto tilted his head, using one of his drumsticks to scratch his head. "Hayato and Mukuro already went backstage."

Tsuna blinked again. "Right, sorry, Yamamoto." He began to walk when he felt the urge to turn back. And he's gone. Shaking his head, he went to the backstage, nodding and thanking the crew as he passed by. He turned left at the end of the corridor and arrived at the band members' changing room. The sight that greeted him wasn't at all unanticipated; all three members were sprawled on the two sofa, clothes all loosened up. He flopped down beside Mukuro who sat alone across Yamamoto and the bassist Gokudera.

Tsuna released a relieved sigh. "Great job, everyone. That was really tiring."

"You kept spacing out, though. Something troubling you?" asked Yamamoto, one leg on top of the low table in their center while the other was on top of Gokudera's.

Gokudera shoved the drummer's leg. "Get your gross leg off of me." He redirected his attention to Tsuna. "But yeah, Juudaime, anyone I should punch?"

Mukuro inched closer, lips curving in a smile. "Or perhaps you were looking for someone. Hm?" said the guitarist. Tsuna froze. "Oya. Did I hit the jackpot?" He moved closer; the brunet could easily feel the other man's breath so close to him. "Do tell."

"Knowing how transparent Dame-Tsuna is, it's probably correct," a newcomer said, the other four not the least bit surprised at his stealth.

Mukuro crossed his legs, raised one arm, and leaned on it. "Kufufu. Quite flattering to have you agreeing with me, manager."

Reborn rolled his eyes. "Shut the fuck up, Mukuro." Walking around Tsuna's back, he bent down behind the sofa and brought his arms up on the backrest, looking down directly at the vocalist. "Well, Dame-Tsuna? Who were you looking for?"

Inwardly groaning, Tsuna shook his head. "I wasn't looking for anyone. I'm fine, really, I'm probably just tired." He tilted his head up, glaring at Reborn.

"Boring," said Reborn, flicking the brunet's forehead. "Anyway," the fedora-wearing man straightened up, "we're heading back to the hotel in half an hour. Ciao."

"Well," said Yamamoto, "we better get going or they might leave us." He stood up, stretching his arms. Without another word, he exited the room, leaving a grumbling Gokudera behind.

"...Not like they have the guts to leave us," muttered Gokudera who also left the room.

Yet you followed him, Tsuna thought, amused. Sighing, he imitated Yamamoto's actions-stretched his limbs and left the room. As he walked, he couldn't help but wonder about that epitome of enigma. How many times had he seen him? Better yet, when did he start noticing the man? How long has it been? Tsuna had so much questions, but admittedly had no idea why he was so intrigued. Somehow, though, he did have an inkling on why.

Perhaps it was the man's ability to remain stoic throughout the entire concert despite the hordes of people doing the opposite, deviating from the norm. Maybe it was the man's way of appearing and disappearing in an instant. Or maybe, just maybe, it was everything about him. His demeanor, his perpetual scowl, his enrapturing aura, and the look he gives whenever Tsuna catches his eye. Indeed, it was everything about him.

"Hey, watch it!"

Tsuna managed to recover just in time before bumping into a crew member who was carrying three heavy-looking boxes simultaneously. He sheepishly apologized at the man. "Rich people. They think they can do anything." He heard the man mutter. Embarrassed and slightly irked, Tsuna was about to apologize once more when the man started walking away, still muttering under his breath. The brunet sighed for the third time, feeling rather exasperated.

"Still quite out of it, I see."

Surprised, Tsuna turned around, only to see Reborn standing in the middle of the hallway. "Sorry, I'll go to the van now and rest." He feebly smiled.

Reborn simply raised an eyebrow. "Pull yourself together, Dame-Tsuna, your next concert is a week from now." Placing a hand on the brunet's shoulder, he leaned close to his ear and said, "You're looking for someone, right? Better not disappoint that person."

Tsuna scowled. "I said I'm not looking for—"

"Right. Now go to the van before I shoot you," said Reborn as he walked away, waving his right arm as he did.

Rolling his eyes, Tsuna decided to follow his manager's advice.

A week, huh? Would he appear again?