I don't own Katekyō Hitman Reborn!.


Lift the Curtain: Who's Who?


It's the first time in a long while that light breaches the void of dark.

The inhabitants of the endless space exchange wary glances, inspecting the tiny crack with timid premonition. Spindly veins of white against black shine with a brightness that is too ghostly to be true.

"It's not time yet, is it?" one voice echoes through the silence.

"It shouldn't be," another answers, fluttering with an unfelt breeze.

A third rolls its eyes. "Don't be all dramatic because someone switched the light on, you pussies—ow. Dammit, that hurts!"

"Then stop insulting your siblings!" The fourth is guttural in its rebuke, thundering through the space and shattering the quaint.

Red eyes flash dangerously. "Who do you think you are to order me around? Respect your elders!"

Knuckles crack. "You wanna bring it on, once and for all?" And the tension rises palpable and tingling—

"Can you stop bitching for once?" interrupts a whiny squeal. Silence shatters across the void, expands in convulsing, suffocating waves of irritation. "Who is both your eldest here, huh?" A dangerous threat makes its way hand over hand along every syllable and the light lies forgotten in the foretelling of a fight.

The bickering siblings shy away. "You are," they mutter through grit teeth.

"Good. Thank you." A loud thud marks the end of this one's commentary. The sound of eventual snoring has the others breathing out in relief.

Brimming with energy, red eyes point to the sleeping silhouette. "Seriously, I'm all up for having her move out of our home. Anyone with me?"

Beaming, another voice chuckles, placing a protective hand over the resting one. "Win fair and square in a fight and we might consider it."

Flashing. "Easy. Here I go!"

Crackling. "We have more pressing matters to attend!"

Beaming. "I said fair and square, not while she's sleeping."

"Stop it." Soft and gentle, a petal brush upon your skin, a flutter of leaves, a whisper in the dark, the command manages to be all-encompassing nonetheless. The group freezes mid-way in their childish brawl of pushing, pulling, poking, eyes looking up, pale in the white shimmer.

Cielo looks over each of the spirits gathered before him, taking in the faded faces left long inside the dark. They are but a shadow cast upon shadows but the future would be a bright sight to behold. "Save your strength for the new ring bearers. They will need it more than you do."

And upon his words the light breaks through the crack, ripping and tearing the walls of confinement down and the Spirits of the Sky Rings find themselves bathed in a godly glow.