It was hot, it was humid, and he had sand everywhere.

It was summer, he was seventeen, and he wouldn't want to be anywhere else.

Early that morning they had loaded the back of the Sasagawa's delivery van and driven the hour and half out to Isola delle Femmine to play the tourist crowds.

The legality of it remained dubious but they had been doing it for years and at that point Tsuna had managed to charm the local police.

And since their music refrained from vulgarity, tourist families had little reason to complain.

Despite Sasagawa's presence, Hayato was still coerced into lugging his keyboard out to the beach to play alongside them.

He grumbled and complained – he never did like strangers' attention – but honestly, he wouldn't want to be anywhere else and they all knew.

Hayato was set up slightly to the left of Sasagawa and just behind Takeshi.

For a while longer than he would like to admit he had taken to watching his kind-of-friend.

Hayato knew he was aware but he also knew that the teenager did the same thing.

Truthfully, it was a bit of a stalemate.

It had been going on since shortly after they met nearly five years prior.

He was probably okay with their kind-of-relationship.

Because, honestly, when he was with Takeshi, he felt secure.


Some days they would skive off school to do school work.

The teachers noticed, but they went to a lower class school and their skiving was ultimately beneficial.

Takeshi wasn't the best student – he was far too paranoid to be able to concentrate in a classroom and spent most of the day trying to block out the panic by sleeping or leaving early.

Hayato made it his mission to get his somebody through secondary with at least one ten.

Only months away from graduation, he was solidly in the middle of their class.

Tsuyoshi was grateful.

He knew Takeshi just – for some unknown reason – just liked spending time with him.

And if it left Takeshi smelling like smoke no one would comment.


Unfortunately, they met Mukuro in grade eleven.

His sister was a sweetheart but Hayato was convinced Mukuro was the devil in man's clothing.

At first he had thought the guy was creepy but then he crossed a line.

Hayato knew that Tsuna hadn't known – if he had it wouldn't have happened – and they never told him.

After only knowing them for three months, he had taken one look and him and Takeshi and decided to lock them in a classroom after school hours.

When Hayato couldn't get the door open on first try, he started to panic then paused and tried again and again and again.

Takeshi had gently pried his hands off the door handle as years of memories of being locked away surfaced and he melted down.

When security found them they were still sitting on the floor with Takeshi's fingers rubbing soothingly through his hair.

The woman had taken one look at their position and Hayato's tear stained face and let them off without a warning.


It was barely noon and Takeshi's case was nearly full.

When they had decided to break for lunch the others broke off to buy lunch and Takeshi fished out two bento from his bag.

He loved weekends like those even if he had to play in public.

They would play all day and then camp out on the beach and do the same thing the next day.

It was originally Reborn's – an agent that was probably more famous than the artists he sponsored who was sent to tutor Tsuna in the business in when they were 13 – idea.

Locals and tourists would take their cards and spread their name around.

Over the years they had become rather well known and frequently had gigs at beach front restaurants and had opened for local shows.

He looked at his something out of the corner of his eye as he ate.

There were very few instances that Takeshi actually allowed himself to relax.

But even fewer made him relax more than when he had a guitar in his hands and his feet on a stage.

Even as they sat shoulder to shoulder with their legs pressed together his eyes darted around.

"I got accepted into University of Palermo," he blurted breaking the comfortable silence.

Takeshi froze momentarily before plastering on a smile.

"I thought you wanted to go to Milan?"

He shook his head, "I don't want to leave Palermo." I don't want to leave you went unsaid.

Takeshi hummed and tilted his head to look at the sky, "But you'll be leaving us." Me.

"Not really, Reborn got me a job at the studio and, and…" he trailed off before turning to his somebody.

Hayato gently tilted the other teenagers head to their eyes could meet."

"No I, actually. I have a question for you."


Over the past year and a half Hayato had developed another habit that fit right alongside the others.

Tsuna probably knew – because at this point, he seems to know everything – but he spends more nights than not climbing in through Takeshi's window to sleep.

The first time it happened was after a particularly terrible nightmare of a memory. It was three in the morning and he crept down the stairs wide-eyed and alert, nodded at Reborn who had been digging through the fridge, and slipped out the front door.

Reborn had never cared much for his actions after learning that he had no plans to join the the music industry professionally.

When he climbed through Takeshi's unlocked window his kind-of-friend looked at him with sleep blurred eyes and made room for him on the bed.

At that point, it was not the first time he had been in Takeshi's room or even his bed.

That time though, felt different.

He knows Tsuyoshi knows. He caught him once and after convincing him it was nothing indecent that man had shrugged and told him not to be too loud.

Takeshi feigned sleep and Hayato was mortified.


He could see the others walking towards them and he took the leap.

"I have a place lined up," he started, "Its within fifteen minutes to the studio and a bus ride from the university."

Takeshi raised an eyebrow in question.

"Will you move in with me?"

It was one of the happiest moments of his life when Takeshi's eyes positively lit up and he smiled at him softly.

"Of course."