To Kill the Dead
His student was a nervous wreck when he stepped out of the bathroom, dressed like a millionaire but hunched like a peasant. As the boy stood in front of the mirror, his eyes grew wide at the stranger before him. Hesitant fingers hovered over the buttons of his open jacket, as if afraid he'd ruin it.
Reborn paused in his pacing around the room. "Hurry up," he said, checking the time on his watch. "It would be unwise to keep the Boss waiting."
Tsuna slouched even further. "I know," he answered, anxiously pulling at the hem of his shirt. "It's just...it's my first time attending a formal dinner and I haven't seen my grandpa since I was five. And as the Vongola heir, there are all these expectations and I'm worried I'll stuff up!"
Reborn was silent as he hopped onto the dressing table and helped his student with his tie. "Straighten your posture," he ordered. Tsuna groaned but obeyed. Reborn buttoned up the jacket and pushed his shoulders back. "You will be fine," he reassured. "Remember what I taught you."
"I guess you're right," Tsuna murmured, glancing around the room in wonder. He took in the opulent furnishings and the night views from the floor-to-ceiling window, so different to the simple interiors of his Namimori home. "How many times have you been here?"
"Just once," Reborn lied, resisting the urge to curtain the window. He knew there were cameras looking into the room, and it was almost certain that the place was bugged. Behind the bookshelf was a secret passageway, and Reborn wouldn't put it past Timoteo to have guards positioned inside.
"This mansion is so nice," Tsuna moaned, sinking his toes into the plush carpet. "I wouldn't be able to afford this even if I worked every day for the rest of my life."
"It will all be yours when you become the next Vongola Don."
His student sighed. "Yeah, but I never really agreed to that," he said. "Do you get to see my grandpa often?"
"Only on official business." Satisfied with Tsuna's appearance, Reborn picked up his fedora and adjusted the cuffs of his own sleeves. "Let's go," he said with finality.
Before the feeling of being watched grew too overwhelming, Reborn headed out the door, not looking back.
Tsuna wasn't quite sure he was dreaming. He was walking through a mansion adorned with so much gold and crystal he felt like he was in a palace. The place emanated both wealth and classical elegance, and it took plenty of self control to not take photos like a tourist.
"We're here," the butler said, interrupting his thoughts. Tsuna paused in front of an ornate door with gem-encrusted knobs. Reborn hopped off his shoulder and stepped back.
They were led into the dining hall, one that could fit Tsuna's house and still be spacious. As he approached the dining table, he was suddenly assaulted by a roar of powerful Flames against his consciousness, as if seeking dominance, making Tsuna instinctively shrink back.
Sky Flames. The mafia Boss seated at the head of the table wasn't the grandpa he remembered in the Hawaiian shirt and bermuda shorts. All of Vongola Nono's Guardians were present, each appraising Tsuna's worth, their gazes predatory.
"Tsunayoshi," Vongola Nono greeted pleasantly. His Guardians inclined their heads at Tsuna in acknowledgment. The servants stopped and bowed, making Tsuna's cheeks heat up.
"I-It is my greatest honour to be in your presence," he stammered, struggling to remember what Reborn had instructed him to say. "I am humbled to be of service…" He executed a deep bow and kept his head down, wishing the carpet would swallow him whole.
"Please, take a seat." To his relief, Timoteo was smiling at him, his eyes wrinkling with kindness. The Boss gestured at the empty chair on the other side of the table opposite to his own, and a servant helped Tsuna into the seat, spreading a cloth napkin across his lap.
Timoteo's gaze then flickered to Reborn and turned frigid. Tsuna thought he'd imagined it, until he realised he'd taken the only vacant seat at the table, and Reborn was still standing by the door with his head bowed down.
"I will make my leave," his tutor said, without a hint of emotion.
The friendly smile returned. "Nonsense. As my heir's tutor, you are most welcome to remain."
A tall chair was brought into the room and placed at the table beside Tsuna. Reborn wordlessly sat.
Bemused, Tsuna glanced down to examine the unfamiliar assortment of cutlery prepared for him. He understood that this trip to Italy without his friends - Guardians - was a test of some sort. Perhaps to prove that he and Reborn had achieved the expected results.
As such, Tsuna straightened his posture, put on his best smile and prepared for onslaught of questions.
"You look well," Reborn began as Timoteo settled into his desk chair. "I see no visible signs of senility or arthritis. You must be glad."
The boss did not give him permission to sit. From his higher position, he stared down at Reborn, his eyes flickering amber. His staff was leaning against the wall, and a gun lay partially concealed under a stack of files, pointed at the infant.
"I did not call you to my office to be mocked," Timoteo answered impassively.
Reborn jumped onto the back of a chair until their gazes were level. He broke into a grin. "Then you wish to commend me for my success in preparing your surviving heir to inherit your title," he drawled.
"While I will not undermine your achievements, I would like to make it clear that I do not trust you."
Reborn's grin turned feral. "Three years. Tsunayoshi has lasted longer than the others."
It had indeed been three years since Tsuna had first gone under his tutelage; under his influence and control. And before Tsuna could inherit the Vongola, the boss would have to affirm Tsuna's undivided loyalty to the Family. Therefore, all thorns had to be cut.
Timoteo was still smiling, but even an idiot could feel the sinister undercurrents in his demeanour. "The Mourning begins in two days," he said, picking up a framed photo from his desk. "Without further ado, I want you to leave Italy."
"Just like every year," Reborn answered sardonically. "Should I bring souvenirs?"
"I do not wish to see your face again," Timoteo said. "If you remain in Italy during that period, I will remove you from the Vongola's protection."
Suddenly the door to the office was pushed open, and a high pitched shriek reverberated throughout the room as the perpetrator realised it was occupied. His student stood outside like a deer in headlights, while all colour drained from his face.
"What is it?" Reborn snapped at him. "We're in a meeting."
Tsuna's gaze flickered between Reborn and Timoteo, before he scratched the back of his head sheepishly. "I was after a glass of water and got lost," he admitted. "Goodnight, Reborn. Goodnight, Grandpa."
Reborn slipped out of the bedroom in the dead of the night. Still awake and unable to sleep under the foreign, heavy covers, Tsuna dismissed it as a trip to the kitchen. But when Reborn remained missing by morning, Tsuna conveyed his concerns to his grandpa.
"He received a mission and had to depart immediately," Timoteo answered, ruffling Tsuna's hair affectionately. "He will meet you in Japan upon its completion."
Tsuna nodded. But for some reason, it felt wrong. There had been inexplicable tension between Timoteo and Reborn last night. It had felt threatening. He might have imagined it, but it sounded like Reborn was in trouble.
He couldn't detect any dishonesty, malice or ulterior motive from his grandpa though. If there'd been any, he was certain his Hyper Intuition would have picked up on it. As such, Tsuna decided to change the subject.
"I saw some people hanging up paintings in the atrium," he said, casting his mind back to the three life-sized portraits he'd seen downstairs. "What's happening?"
Timoteo clasped his hands together on the table, his expression turning sad. "We are preparing for the Mourning in memory of my lost sons."
"My god, I'm so sorry," Tsuna said quickly, anxiety rushing back at full force. He was the worst at comforting people, and the last thing he wanted was to offend his grandpa by some poorly phrased expressions. "I-I'm sure they were amazing sons and I hope they're at peace."
"They were killed," Timoteo replied. He removed a large photo frame from the grand piano and placed it in front of Tsuna. "The one in the centre in Enrico, my eldest. On his left is is Massimo, and on his right is Federico."
They were handsome men, probably in their thirties. Enrico looked about Iemitsu's age. "How could anyone do this?" Tsuna whispered.
Timoteo's smile turned bitter. "Great power comes with a steep price."
Tsuna bowed his head solemnly. "Yeah. Reborn mentioned something like that."
"Did he?"
"Well, Reborn's right about a lot of things," Tsuna answered with a nervous chuckle. "At first I thought he was just sadistic and wanted to kill me. But looking back, my life has really changed for the better. And it's all thanks to Reborn."
Timoteo watched him finish the last of his ham and eggs. "Is that so," he said, his voice unusually thin.
"I can't believe you're getting drunk in broad daylight," Reborn told Shamal as the latter ordered his sixth wine refill the restaurant's bar. "You haven't changed one bit."
His best friend shot him a dirty glare. "You blocked my number for a year. And when you finally show up, you tell me you're leaving Italy the day after. How else am I supposed to react?"
"You could start by listening to what I have to say," Reborn suggested. In his peripheral vision, he tracked the staff's movements around the restaurant. Nothing caught his eye in particular, which was a good sign.
Thankfully Shamal seemed to realise Reborn had deliberately picked a place where they could enjoy some privacy. "You wanted to talk about the Mourning," he murmured, swirling his wine before tossing it back. He slid a gift-wrapped box across to Reborn. "My condolences for your loss."
Reborn narrowed his eyes as he pulled at the pink ribbon. Inside the box was a rolled up document. "Is this-"
"Yeah. I searched all the databases in the world for any traces and that's the only file I found. I had everything wiped clean." The document was a blood test result from before he'd met Shamal. Not something anyone could use against him, but it showed he'd been careless. "You might want to check CEDEF's offline archives," Shamal added. "Only a fraction of their records have been digitalised."
Reborn nodded, thankful for the heads up. "I'll do that."
Shamal hesitated for a long moment. "Be careful, Reborn," he warned at last. "Don't make me be the one to pick up your remains."
"I'm a hitman. I thrive in the face of danger."
"But a hitman can kill the wrong targets. Perhaps consider a career change. It's much more rewarding being a professional pick up artist, though sometimes you get the vile ones who try to blackmail you."
"Shamal," Reborn growled dangerously, clicking his gun off the safety under the table.
Shamal sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Oh right, I forgot. Your mother. Forgive my insensitivity."
Reborn rolled his eyes and Leon returned to chameleon form. "That better be the alcohol talking, Shamal. Next time the gun fires."
On the first day of the Mourning, Iemitsu and Basil visited the Vongola Mansion representing CEDEF, garbed in black to pay their respects. Timoteo pulled his consigliere into his office to discuss administrative matters, leaving Tsuna in the room with a very grave Basil.
"I'm glad you are well, Tsuna," Basil greeted. It had taken him years but he'd eventually learned how to speak in modern Japanese. "I understand this is a difficult time for you."
He was referring to the death of Timoteo's sons. Tsuna nodded along, feeling somewhat horrible that he knew next to nothing about what had actually transpired. But he understood that it had been a traumatic experience, and no father should ever have to undergo what his grandpa had.
"Were you close to them?" Tsuna asked gently.
"My father worked as the boss' chauffeur. He knew the Vongola sons well. He was devastated but passed away before he could attend their funerals."
"So many lives were lost," Tsuna murmured. Such was life in the mafia. Another reason why he should definitely not inherit the Vongola.
"They died under such suspicious circumstances," Basil said, clearly upset. "We mourn every year but no one knows how the sons died or who killed them."
Tsuna sat up straighter. "Could you find out?" If he was stuck in Italy with only his grandpa and scary men in suits as company, he might as well get to the bottom of this. Perhaps they'd even discover something new.
"I might be able to," Basil admitted. "However, we require a warrant before conducting investigations. If I am caught, it would be troublesome."
"What if it was a personal request from the Vongola heir?" Tsuna tried.
"We are always busy at CEDEF," Basil answered with a hint of a smile. "But if I have time to spare, I will do what I can to help."
The sun was warm on his skin and the pacific breeze gently swept his hair back as Reborn gazed at the clear blue sea. It was a vacation he hadn't asked for, but now that he was here, he might as well relax and enjoy it.
"You reek of suspicion," a voice remarked from behind, dripping with disdain.
Lal Mirch joined him on a beach chair beside him. It was one of those rare occasions where she was wearing swimwear - a backless one far from her usual style, worn clearly to impress a certain sometime.
"If by suspicious you mean wearing a suit at an island resort, I will remind you that I am a celebrity here and must always be dressed to charm my fans," Reborn drawled, pointing at the balloons and banners with his face on them. That was why Mafia Island always had that special place in his heart.
"Well, I'd say 'fancy meeting you here' but I know that's a load of bullshit. You planned this meeting," Lal accused.
In fact, he had. He still kept in contact with Colonello after the Arcobaleno curse had been lifted. The latter had bragged for weeks following Lal's decision to spend her annual leave at the resort where he worked at, so Reborn knew exactly where to find her.
"You broke off the engagement and now you're crawling back to him," Reborn teased with a smirk.
"Keep taunting," Lal replied with a nonchalant shrug. "I might just consider that as having paid your debt in full."
"Unfortunately for you, I'm after something riskier." Reborn pulled down his sunglasses and casually sipped his cocktail. "I want you to destroy several things for me from the CEDEF's archives."
"That would be treason," Lal answered in a heartbeat.
"You had no such qualms hiring me to kill your superiors back at COMSUBIN."
"We did Italy a service by deleting those fools," she argued. "Besides, they weren't mafia."
Reborn tilted his head. "Doesn't that make it even worse?"
"Forget it, Reborn. I repeat, you reek of suspicion and you should look elsewhere for help."
"Maybe I'll tell Colonello what you said when we got you drunk that time."
"I take back my words," she replied immediately.
On the second day of the Mourning, Xanxus stumbled into the Vongola Mansion, chugging down a bottle of tequila. Squalo trailed after him, appearing to be in more agony from being forbidden to swear than from the shattered glass over his head.
"It's as if Xancoon died again," the long haired vice-captain muttered. "That damned pet raccoon."
The servants brought out a medical kit and tried to fuss over Squalo's injuries, but the swordsman waved his sword arm at their faces. He dumped a basket of flowers onto the table and loudly demanded that Timoteo give them an audience.
Tsuna had no complaints when the butler escorted the Varia officers to Timoteo's office. Although Tsuna had worked with them on several occasions, it was safe to say that their relationship hadn't improved at all.
Xanxus and Squalo returned to the lobby ten minutes later. Xanxus was yelling profanities while Squalo attempted to haul him towards the front entrance. The bottle Xanxus was clutching slipped from the man's grasp, and Squalo just looked done with life when his boss howled in rage at its shattered remains.
Except Squalo was not a quiet man. The fact that he was silent when he was obviously frustrated and embarrassed raised a red flag. Following his intuition, Tsuna cautiously approached him.
"What was it that you wanted to tell my grandpa?" he questioned, mustering up every ounce of courage to look the taller man in the eye.
"My sincerest condolences," the swordsman deadpanned.
Tsuna watched the sword and maintained his distance. Guests were not allowed to bring weapons into the mansion, but they'd made an exception for Squalo since the sword was fixed to his arm. "You wanted to say something but didn't," Tsuna pressed on. "What was it?"
Squalo gave a harsh laugh. "That's none of your concern, trash."
Tsuna took a few steps back and raised his hands. "Sorry," he said quickly, turning away before he turned into a stuttering mess.
When Squalo was beneath the doorway, he suddenly stopped. "The tapes I gave to Yamamoto - has he watched them all?"
"The 100 sword battles?" Tsuna frowned. "He was almost finished last time I asked."
Squalo shrugged and left without another word. When the door was closed, Tsuna dialled Yamamoto's number.
Hearing from his friend did wonders to his mood. It let him forget he was alone in a foreign country where most people didn't speak Japanese, and hugged and kissed him when he didn't even know their names. It took half an hour before Yamamoto slowed down about his baseball ventures and Tsuna could finally mention Squalo's mysterious question.
"Yeah, I wanted to talk to you about that," Yamamoto answered, his voice turning sombre. There was a lengthy pause. "I was rewatching Squalo's final fight with Sword Emperor Tyr, and I...I think he was drugged, Tsuna."
The Varia didn't hold funerals. The Vongola's independent assassination squad took pride in their unrivalled quality, and to mourn was to acknowledge a fault in their reputation. As such, the disposal of Tyr's body was simple and clinical.
The Varia's vice-captain had been the partner of the fallen. Consequently, he was responsible for packing the decapitated corpse and disposing of it inside the incinerator. By the time he was done, he was grinning from ear to ear, despite the soot and ash coating his face and hands.
"Well done, Reborn," Ottavio said, flinging his head and arms back and drinking in the cold night air. "Tonight is a good night."
Reborn, who had been keeping watch a short distance away, said nothing.
Every member of the Varia knew of Squalo's conquest. No one had believed in the teenager's success. Reborn had known that the vice-captain had been slowly poisoning Tyr and it had always bemused him as to why the he didn't straight up kill the man. Until now.
"He has done us a great service," Ottavio continued, a sinister smirk spreading across his face. "Superbi Squalo realised he had merely killed a dying man. He will not inherit the Varia as no honour remains."
The name 'Tyr' barely rang any bells. All Tsuna knew was that he was the former Sword Emperor and that Squalo had killed him. He couldn't see how it connected with the greater picture though, especially in relation to the Mourning. Not for the first time, Tsuna cursed himself for not paying attention to Reborn's history lessons.
It did, however, give him a new topic to talk about during his next formal dinner with Timoteo and the Ninth Generation Vongola Guardians.
"The Varia were invaluable in helping us break the Arcobaleno curse," Tsuna spoke up after Timoteo recounted a drunken Xanxus being dragged across the carpet earlier that day. As seven pairs of eyes bore into his skull, he instinctively squirmed in his seat before trying to regain his composure. "Could you tell me more about them?" he asked.
"What do you already know?" Timoteo answered.
It was a simple question, but it felt like he was in a job interview. "Well, I know Xanxus is the current boss," Tsuna began lamely. "Squalo is the vice-captain. The other Guardians are Lussuria, Belphegor, Mammon, Levi and…there's no Cloud Guardian."
"He died," Coyote sneered.
"And what would you like to know about the Varia?" Timoteo asked with an encouraging smile.
It was probably the worst idea asking about the circumstances surrounding someone's death, especially when the person you're asking was mourning the death of his three sons. But Tsuna's brain couldn't change topics quickly enough when he was in a room full of mafiosi staring him down. "Uh...how did the Cloud Guardian die?" he blurted out.
"He was a traitor," Coyote spat, before taking a large gulp of wine. "He received his punishment."
"Yes, that is correct," Timoteo affirmed in a conversational tone, as if he wasn't talking about someone who'd probably died a brutal death. "Let us not speak of Ottavio again."
Ottavio was humming as he did his paperwork in his office, even smiling as he dealt with boxes of documents containing the minutiae of his enemies. It was a mind-numbingly boring task, and Reborn was content to sit on the window sill, far away from the Varia vice-captain's desk.
"Tyr has fallen, and a new era of the Varia will be born," Ottavio announced, adjusting his rimless glasses. "This will be my Varia."
Reborn raised an eyebrow. "Did you ask me to come here so you could gloat?"
"Think about it, Reborn," the other man continued, unfazed. He swept his arms back as if he were a politician giving a speech. "With the Varia under my command, we are one step closer to uniting the underground." He pinned Reborn with an intense stare. "You will be a king. Even greater than your father. Wouldn't that be the sweetest revenge?"
Reborn decided to play along. "Then I wait impatiently for the phone call from Vongola Nono," he replied, tipping his fedora in Ottavio's direction and bowing.
He turned away from the desk as the phone started ringing. A smirk graced Reborn's lips as Ottavio answered it eagerly...only for his voice to tremble with barely contained fury as he drank in the news and the fate of the Varia.
Excellent. Nothing broke a man faster than rage, even men like Ottavio who prided themselves in their rationality and self control.
Ottavio slammed the phone back into its dock. "I want you to find out everything you can about Xanxus," he ordered, gesturing at a pile of boxes by the couch. "I want him gone before he takes one step out of his cushiony chair back at his dear papa's house."
Reborn was still smirking when he stopped the voice recorder in his pocket. "Oh, I have a better idea," he drawled, his obsidian eyes glinting.
"Basil," Tsuna greeted, as the dirty-blond haired boy took a seat beside him on the park bench. "Did you find anything?"
"A thing or two," Basil replied. He casually stretched his back over the seat, while his blue eyes alertly scanned their surroundings for eavesdroppers. "Usually when we find leads like these, we would cross-check it against other evidence in our database, but…"
"What happened?" Tsuna asked softly.
Basil shrugged and sat back up. "I don't know. I began the investigation last week, but there were more urgent matters to attend to. When I returned to the archives three days later, the records were gone."
"G-Gone?" Tsuna echoed. "As in, they suddenly disappeared from the archives?"
"It is possible that the boss wishes to bury the truth." But Basil didn't seem to believe it. "The records were in a box in an inconspicuous part of the floor. Before I dug them up, the dust patterns were undisturbed for years..."
"But you did find something before they disappeared, right?"
"I am unable to confirm the veracity of the information, so you must take it with a grain of salt," Basil continued. "One file reports that there were traces of a strong Sky Flame at the sites of Enrico and Federico's death. Of course, the technology was still developing at the time, so it would not suffice as evidence at a Vindice trial. However, this wasn't any ordinary Sky Flame - it was a Vongola Sky Flame."
Tsuna gasped. "Could the Vongola brothers have...killed one another?" Fratricide as the result of succession disputes was not uncommon. Timoteo had made it seem as though his sons were very close to one another though.
"Each Flame has it's unique properties - like DNA. I had planned to enter the unidentified Sky Flame into our database to determine whether it matches with any of the Vongola brothers. But it is impossible now." Basil narrowed his eyes. "So I searched the logs for files that were deleted at around the same time to try and find other leads. It turned out that another individual's records had been wiped."
"And those files…?"
"A portion of them were salvageable but the majority were thoroughly encrypted. To decrypt them, I'd have to request assistance from the IT department but that would raise suspicion. I was able to find the name of the person though - Ottavio, of the Varia."
"The Varia's former vice-captain!" Tsuna exclaimed, recalling the bitter and outraged reactions of Timoteo's Guardians upon hearing that name. "He was behind it all!"
"This is all speculation," Basil warned. "I've never met him personally, but from the recovered files, it seems apparent that Ottavio was after the leadership of the Varia. Despite this, Ottavio never became the boss, and the position was given to Xanxus. His vice-captaincy was subsequently handed over to Squalo."
"Did Ottavio remain with the Varia after that?" Tsuna asked. His mind went back to Yamamoto's phone call. His friend had suspected Tyr to be drugged during his final fight with Squalo. If anyone could have managed to drug the former Sword Emperor, Tsuna supposed it had to be his partner. Had Ottavio wanted Tyr, the former boss of the Varia, killed so he could take his place?
"He was appointed as Xanxus' Cloud Guardian, but was transferred to Mare Diavola, where he oversaw the training of new Varia recruits. The new Varia favoured action and dismissed Ottavio's more diplomatic approaches. However, he remained a senior advisor of Xanxus, and held the loyalty and respect of their men."
"And then he was killed," Tsuna said, feeling uneasy. "Perhaps he was after more than the leadership of the Varia. That's why- Timoteo's sons!"
Basil nodded. "The facts are uncertain, but it is possible that Ottavio was killed by the Vongola because of this, and then the incident was hushed. After all, if word got out that the former vice-captain of the Varia had instigated the murder of the heirs, it would have been a great embarrassment."
When Xanxus and his Guardians moved into the Varia Headquarters one week later, Ottavio welcomed them with open arms and acted as if they were brothers, notwithstanding the malice beneath his friendly exterior. Reborn had convinced Ottavio to keep the heir alive, because shortly after Xanxus' appointment as the Varia's new leader, Timoteo had made another announcement - his eldest son, Enrico was to become the Vongola's underboss.
It certainly made things more interesting. Timoteo was still healthy, and neither Reborn nor Ottavio had expected the appointment until at least another decade. It more or less cemented Enrico's future position as Vongola Decimo, so the man had moved up on Ottavio's hit list and there was a better use for Xanxus in the scheme.
Reborn took the ferry to Sicily from Mare Diavola, the island on which he'd spent most of his adolescence training to become a hitman. It was only about a kilometre from the Sicilian coast, swimmable when the tides were low. But tonight he had guns hidden on his body and carried heavy ammunition inside his briefcase.
Ottavio had ordered a clean, untraceable kill. One that preferably resembled an accident, so the Vongola wouldn't be alarmed and raise their security by another few notches. For Enrico however, Reborn would give nothing less than a dramatic gunfight that would haunt the streets for centuries to come.
A small, controlled ball of Sky Flame danced on the centre of his palm, orange at the core and supplemented by Sun Flames around its edges. Surely Reborn would leave his mark on such an important target - he was striving to become the World's Greatest Hitman after all.
And then he'd show Timoteo the monster he'd left behind.
Reborn rarely picked up the phone these days.
Sure, it was nice having a reprieve from the Spartan training his tutor inflicted upon him, but no matter how kindly his grandpa treated him, Tsuna felt like an outsider and he often found himself counting the days until he could return to Japan. He longed for that sense of familiarity he had with Reborn, his mother and his friends around, and the lack of need to always keep on a mask of perfection.
So when Reborn answered Tsuna's sixth call with a curt "What is it, Dame-Tsuna?" the latter just wanted to weep at the sound of his tutor's high pitched voice. A voice he'd grown used to hearing everyday. A voice he'd never thought he'd ever come to miss until now.
"You picked up," Tsuna said, breaking into a lopsided grin. "I've missed you, Reborn. Gosh I can't believe I just said that."
"I've been busy," Reborn replied flatly. There was a lot of background noise on his end. It sounded like strong wind and children yelling, and...a ferry horn?
"Is now a good time to talk?" Tsuna heard the clinking of glasses and frowned. "Where are you?"
"Wait." After a minute, a door was shut and the background noise muted. Reborn's voice returned. "What was it that you wanted to say?"
How should he begin? "U-Um alright then. So following up on our last call, I asked my grandpa about the Mourning because I was really curious about what had happened. He was kind of vague so I asked a few people for more information, and-"
"And what?"
"And they said evidence points to Ottavio, the former vice-captain of the Varia. The same guy who probably killed Tyr to become the boss, only for Xanxus to take the position."
"Where did you get this information from?" Reborn asked suddenly.
Tsuna gave a nervous laugh. "I can't tell you that," he said. "But I...I think Xanxus did it. It just makes sense that he did it. He wanted to be the boss of Vongola but his brothers had better claim. Ottavio wanted to be the boss of the Varia and it would likely have required Xanxus' assistance to get there. The two could have worked together, as partners or something, and killed my grandpa's sons."
"That...is a possibility." Reborn sounded like he was deep in thought. "Those are serious allegations though, and you would need solid evidence to support those claims. Not mere speculations arising from questionable sources."
"They found Sky Flames at the site of Enrico and Federico's deaths, Reborn. The Vongola Sky Flame."
"So?"
"I don't know. My intuition's telling me it's not any of my grandpa's legitimate sons. It's not Dad either, because he voluntarily joined CEDEF, which invalidated his candidacy to become Vongola Decimo. I knew nothing about the Vongola at the time, so it has to be Xanxus, who has the Vongola Flame of Wrath." Something didn't add up in his reasoning, but Tsuna wasn't sure what it was. "And remember when Xanxus kidnapped my grandpa and used him to fuel Gola Mosca during the Sky Ring Battle? If he was willing to kill his father figure, he would've been willing to kill his brothers too."
When Reborn responded, his tone was cold. "Timoteo is mourning," he said. "Bringing this up will upset him further. I suggest you drop this case. Focus on improving your Italian and relations with prominent members of the Vongola and its allies. This is a great opport-"
"Reborn," Tsuna abruptly interrupted, "Are there any cameras in my room?"
The hairs on the back of his neck were bristling. There was the crawling feeling of being watched. Tsuna faced the wall-length windows, seeing his own reflection and the lights from his room. It was too dark outside and he couldn't find any cameras even if he tried.
He curtained the windows and sat on the edge of the bed, spooked.
Moments later, there was a clatter, almost inaudible. Tsuna shrieked, clutching at the phone. "I heard a noise behind the wall," he whispered to Reborn. "B-But this room is separate from the others so there shouldn't be anything there-"
"I have to go," Reborn said firmly. "If you have any concerns about your room, you should inform security."
"Reborn, wait-!" Tsuna scrambled to the door, only to trip over his untied shoelace and come crashing into the bookshelf.
He covered his gaping mouth when there was a soft 'click' and the bookshelf split in half and parted sideways, revealing a hidden passageway. A passageway that was well cleaned, vacuumed and empty, save for a crimson handkerchief discarded on the carpet, with initials emblazoned on it in thick, gold embroidery:
C.N.
Coyote Nougat?
"I think my grandpa's right hand man is suspicious of me - what's going on, Reborn?"
Reborn switched off his phone and tossed it onto his bed. He shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. Just when Lal had informed him that she had burned the incriminating CEDEF documents, his student's text message revealed that another bone had been dug up.
He was honestly tempted to have Xanxus take the fall once again. Tsuna truly believed the Varia boss had done it, most likely with information he had garnered from Basil. Another curious mind, too young to realise the extent of what he was doing until he had to be silenced. But if Basil had led Tsuna to suspect Xanxus...
No. Tsuna's conclusions had a fatal flaw - if Vongola Sky Flames had been discovered by the bodies of the Vongola sons, that excluded Xanxus entirely. Xanxus had no Vongola blood and thus could not have Sky Vongola Flames. 'Vongola Flames of Wrath' did not exist.
And as for Tsuna...the boy was being monitored and Coyote's spying on him demonstrated that he was already suspected of being under undue influence. Reborn hadn't mentioned the cameras and secret passageway to his student because he wanted Timoteo to trust Tsuna; Tsuna had not been involved in whatever Reborn had done and thus had nothing to hide.
By digging up the skeleton though, Tsuna was unknowingly throwing doubt on his innocence, and Reborn wouldn't be able to protect him anymore than he could protect himself if the Vongola came hunting them down.
It would be best if Tsuna didn't contact him until they were back in Japan. Otherwise, Reborn wasn't sure if he'd be able to see his student again.
Finding the security control room proved to be a near impossible task as Tsuna traversed through the Vongola Mansion's labyrinthine hallways and corridors. It had taken him two hours of walking and asking four people for directions before he finally stood before the correct door.
"Hello? Anyone in there?" Tsuna asked, giving the door a tentative knock. It occurred to him that he could have called security instead, rather than having gone all the way to the other side of the building. Except he was still stuck on Level 1 Italian and he figured he could communicate better in person with gestures and facial expressions.
The door slid open, and Tsuna was hit by the familiar stench of cigarette smoke. He paused, gazing upon rows of computers and monitors connected to large machines with colourful wires. It looked like a scene from a spy movie, and if he touched anything, the screens would probably turn red and trigger the sirens as well as a building lockdown.
"What took you so long?" a deep voice growled.
"Hiiiiie! I'm sorry!" Tsuna squeaked. Why did the people in the Vongola Mansion keep popping out of nowhere? Like that night he'd accidentally walked into Reborn and his grandpa having a discussion. Not that he needed another spook after discovering that secret passageway in his room. "I thought nobody was inside and just wanted to take a look…"
"You."
Tsuna's head snapped towards the grey-haired figure seated in front of a computer, and his blood turned cold.
Coyote Nougat. Watching CCTV feeds. Of Tsuna's room.
"Sir, what are you doing?" Tsuna demanded. He walked up to the monitor, not believing his eyes. But the room with the split bookshelf, unmade bed and Kyoko's lucky charm on the nightstand was undeniably his.
Coyote switched off the screen and stood, his expression betraying no regret or panic. "The boss wanted to talk to you but you were missing. I checked your room to see if you were inside."
On the surface, that sounded plausible. Except the CCTV footage was dated to yesterday afternoon, around the time just after his phone call with Reborn. And there was no need for Timoteo to have a discussion with Tsuna because they had met for lunch only hours earlier, and then Timoteo had gone off play golf with some old friends.
When Coyote picked up his walking cane, Tsuna's eyes grew wide. The sharp clatter he had heard from within the secret passageway!
"Is there something you've lost?" he asked quietly, moving to block the control room's exit.
Coyote glared at him. "My time," he sneered.
Tsuna withdrew the handkerchief from his pocket and unfolded it so that Coyote could see the embroidered initials. "I meant this."
"I have never seen it before," the Storm Guardian deadpanned. "Quit your nonsense and get out of my sight."
"Why are you lying?" Tsuna's eyes blazed orange. "I asked my grandpa if it was yours and he told me it's your favourite handkerchief."
"He was mistaken. This is none of your business."
"No. This is my business. You have been spying on me and violating my privacy without giving me a legitimate reason. Tell me what you're hiding."
"Go on then, tell my Boss," Coyote sneered. "Or better yet, run back to that hitman friend of yours. Let's see what that son of a whore has to say about this."
Tsuna felt rage stir within him. How dare the old man insult Reborn! "You know what," he hissed back, "I will! For all we know, you could be stalking me because you had a hand in the murders of your boss' sons and want to bury the truth!"
He stormed out of the control room, the door slamming shut behind him. He blindly ran down the hall, letting his intuition guide him, until he was in a garden with mountain views, far from the main quarters of the mansion.
He speed-dialed Reborn's number, because his tutor was always right, and maybe he had a better explanation for Coyote's inherently suspicious behaviour.
"Unfortunately the number you're calling is unavailable. Please leave a message after the tone..."
When the stern, black-suited mafioso with the octopus shaped hair had business with his mother regarding something other than a quick screw, Reborn knew her time was up. From his sheer aura, there was no question that the man held their lives in his hands, and for someone who'd done as Reborn's mother had for the past fifteen years, he'd surely come to deliver judgment.
As it turned out, the man had left shortly after, and the next installment of blackmail money arrived the following day. But true to Reborn's intuition, she died later that week from drug overdose. It was an insignificant death, so it didn't surprise Reborn in the slightest when they sent someone else to finish the job.
The hitman had a youthful face behind his rimless glasses, one belonging to a fresh college student if not for his frigid blue eyes that could cut through steel. He was wearing army boots and a trench coat, and two guns were attached to holsters strapped onto his belt.
"You're too late," Reborn told him, warily watching the firearms. As expected, the hitman's gaze fell upon his mother's corpse draped over the couch, wrapped in plastic.
It was a test. Except Reborn had prepared beforehand, and he did not blanch or weep over the remains of the woman he'd lived with for fifteen years.
"Is that so." The other man dismissed the body, instead turning to Reborn. "How unfortunate," he said without a trace of emotion.
"Another man came to visit us a few days ago," Reborn continued. To drag it out, while he figured out a way to use this situation to his advantage. "I took his pocket watch. Is Coyote Nougat your friend?"
The hitman's expression remained impassive. Reborn took it as confirmation of his suspicions.
"Maybe you don't like him then. But you need something from him, which is why you're here, willing to commit treason by killing the son of your boss." Reborn tilted his head. "My father's right hand must have sent you behind his boss' back."
The hitman smiled at him. "How interesting. Is that what you think?"
Reborn's eyes blazed orange. "You're wondering how I know." His lips curved into an eerie smirk. "I alway know. I can read minds."
He'd known for a long time that he was the bastard of Timoteo, the boss of the Vongola Family. He'd overheard enough phone calls between his mother and Timoteo to understand. She'd been using Reborn all those years to fund her drug habits, and as time went on, she'd become careless with her phone records. A secret paternity test had confirmed his blood relation to Timoteo, and Reborn kept the record hidden away as his own blackmail material.
The hitman appeared to consider his words. "If you read minds, then surely you must know why I'm here," he said.
"The Vongola has also caused me grief," Reborn replied. "I know you are here because what you truly desire is power beyond the confines of the Vongola hierarchy. Yet you must borrow the Vongola's influence to achieve your ambitions."
The hitman's expression darkened, sending cold shivers running down Reborn's spine. But Reborn plastered on a smile, because he was right - he was always right.
"And what does the young bastard want?" Ottavio said, his smirk feral. "Does he have a problem with it?"
"He has a solution," Reborn answered firmly. "What better leverage against the Vongola could you have other than his blood son, directly under your control? Someone who is inevitably linked to the Vongola but invisible?"
With his mother gone, Reborn was no longer shackled to this low life. He always knew he was destined for something far greater. And the hitman would be his means to reach his ends, even if Reborn had to become someone else's weapon until he gained enough influence of his own.
"My name is Ottavio," the hitman finally said. "How would you like to be a king and have your revenge?"
On the fifth day of the Mourning, Dino visited the Vongola Mansion to pay his respects as a close ally of the Vongola. Remembering that Dino was a friend of Squalo's during their school days, Tsuna asked the Cavallone Boss if he could shed some insight on Squalo's battle with Tyr.
"He was livid. Very livid," Dino recalled with a shiver. "Squalo had been looking forward to the duel with the Sword Emperor, but was sorely disappointed in the end."
"How so?" Tsuna asked. "It was a two day long battle."
Dino shrugged. "He didn't spare me the details, but Squalo said that Tyr was hardly worth the fight. He fought as if he were drugged. Squalo only dragged it out that long because he wanted to witness every technique the former Sword Emperor used."
"And was he satisfied?"
"No. When Squalo killed Tyr, he went into shock. Then he cut off his own arm in a final, desperate attempt to understand the man he'd looked up to all his life."
When Dino called later that night, Reborn already knew it wasn't going to be good news.
"I heard you left Italy for a job," his former student said good-naturedly. Completely aware of what was transpiring. "I met up with Vongola Nono and Tsuna today. I was hoping you'd be there."
"Duty calls," Reborn answered, reaching over to the nightstand for some aspirin. He hadn't left his hotel room for the past two days and any external stimuli brought back the migraines. And it wasn't as if he could sleep it off - Reborn slept very lightly, always with his eyes open and with a gun under his pillow.
"Anyway, he was really interested in the Vongola's history!" Dino chatted on. "I think it's because he's intrigued by why the Vongola and its allies are mourning!"
Reborn could only hope that Dino had either kept his mouth shut or given vague, misleading comments to Tsuna. The last thing he wanted was for Dino to drop hints that would encourage Tsuna to dig deeper into the grave. But hoping in this situation was futile, given how his former student had such a big mouth.
"My phone is about to run out of battery," Reborn lied, before disconnecting the call. He downed the pills and pulled the pillow over his head, wanting nothing more than to drown out the world.
What next? he asked himself. And the deeper part of his mind added, What if Tsuna finds out?
Well, nothing devastating could really happen. The Vongola technically couldn't touch him because he was an Arcobaleno. Reborn would simply return to his former profession as a hitman, and he had plenty of contacts and favours he could call in to get him the high paying jobs. Also, it wasn't as if Timoteo could keep him out of Italy, and Reborn would still be able to contract with mafioso beyond the Vongola and its allies if Timoteo declared Reborn to be an enemy of the Family.
He silently regarded his other phone - the one he used for personal purposes - that lay untouched on the floor, having fallen off the bed since that last call from Tsuna. With a sigh of resignation, he ducked out of the covers to check his messages.
"Hey, I know you're busy on a job right now, but I have so much to tell you. Could you please pick up the phone? I'm getting tired of the voicemail message."
As expected, his student had spammed his inbox. The first few involved the speculations on the murders, which Reborn deleted without reading to the end. But as he scrolled on, the tone became noticeably more indignant.
"Oh my god, I basically told Coyote to fuck himself," Tsuna had texted him sometime this afternoon. Reborn raised an eyebrow at this. "But he insulted you, Reborn. I honestly think he's suspicious and I think my Hyper Intuition is kicking in again!"
"I mean, he was looking at CCTV feeds on my room! That's wrong in so many ways! So after I caught him, I complained my grandpa and got moved to a new room. Grandpa didn't know about this and was really pissed. I think he's going to give his right hand a roasting!"
"Stop ignoring my calls, Reborn. I miss you and just want to talk to you. My flight back to Japan seems like years away when I'm constantly surrounded by old men who take things way too seriously. I swear my texting style has also changed because everyone speaks so formally here."
"Okay...you're really ignoring me. You're mad at me. What exactly did they do to you?"
"I just wanted to let you know that wherever happened between you and my grandpa and Coyote, I believe you did what you had to do. I believe in you, Reborn. I always have and always will, as cheesy as that sounds. Gosh, why do people have to always hold grudges! Why can't everyone just get along?"
Reborn dropped the phone back onto the bed. Breaking his student's trust was going to hurt, but Reborn had always been a traitor. He'd betrayed, blackmailed and killed men who'd once been his closest allies, and regarded their deaths as trophies.
He truly didn't deserve Tsuna's loyalty and absolute belief in him.
Leon crawled onto his shoulder and licked his face. It peered at him with large yellow eyes, and Reborn felt Sun Flames tickling his skin, trying to heal the emptiness inside him ever since his Sky Flames were permanently sealed.
"It's just you and me, Leon," Reborn murmured to the chameleon, stroking it under its chin. "It's just the two of us, until the end."
As for Coyote, a phone call was long overdue.
"You're telling me Xanxus killed the Ninth's sons," Squalo deadpanned, staring at Tsuna as if he'd sprouted a second head.
Tsuna tried to stay calm. "Look, that's not what I'm saying-"
"No. You really believe Xanxus did it. Because of what he did to the Ninth during the Vongola Ring Battles."
"Well, that does make him suspicious but-"
"VOOOOI! Stop being so fucking entitled! What you think isn't what is, you dumb fuck," Squalo snarled. "Xanxus never had a good relationship with the Ninth, but he loved the Ninth's sons as much as the Ninth did. Not once did I question Xanxus' blood in that family."
Squalo stopped suddenly, as if realising he'd said too much. "Another thing you should know about Xanxus," he said upon Tsuna's stunned silence, "He doesn't give a fuck about Family politics. I can't say the same about that hitman of yours, though."
Federico was killed in a flashy explosion in an impenetrable fortress and subsequently reduced to bones. That left Massimo, who was confined to his wheelchair and struggling to learn the alphabet even at the age of thirty-five, the surviving heir.
Reborn had originally intended to leave him alone, because Massimo did not have physical or mental capacity to inherit the Vongola. But when the latter had stared eerily at Reborn with orange eyes on their first meeting and said "You killed my brothers," Massimo had signed his own death warrant.
So Reborn disguised himself as a servant, strapped Massimo to his wheelchair, shot the man in the head and pushed him off the Vongola Mansion's rooftop. There was a lake underneath, and after being submerged for ten minutes, Reborn blasted some fireworks into the sky and declared the problem to have been solved.
As for Xanxus, Ottavio had discovered critical evidence that the teenager was not in fact a blood child of Timoteo, supplemented by a secret DNA test. Still in his servant's disguise, Reborn had planted a forged diary in Timoteo's office, where Xanxus would surely find it once Ottavio pulled his strings back at the Varia Headquarters. If things went well, Xanxus and the Varia would then start a coup.
It would be simple to assert that the teenager's violent emotions had caused him to murder Timoteo's legitimate sons. Especially when Xanxus had been absolutely enraged when Federico had been named as the next underboss shortly after Enrico's death. Furthermore, all three murders involved guns and Sky Flames, which were Xanxus' preferred weapons.
"This is too dull for you, is it not?" a voice mused behind him. "You consider yourself to be a skilled marksman, not a guerilla tactician."
Reborn silently counted to three, before shooting backwards. He whirled around just in time to see a bullet puncture the chest of a man wearing an iron mask and hat.
And then the stranger dissolved into thin air.
"Perhaps you could be my next target," Reborn called out, reloading his gun. He could play hide and seek all night.
The stranger materialised a short distance away, holding a letter in a gloved hand. "You may refer to me as Checkerface," he said with a twisted smirk. "Now, I have a proposal for you - would you like to be one of the world's Strongest Seven?"
As Tsuna booted up his laptop, he wondered if planting a bug in Timoteo's office constituted as treason, or whether Basil would get in trouble since the listening devices were probably sourced from CEDEF. But finding that last piece of the puzzle had escalated to proving that Reborn's innocence, and Tsuna needed something more than information from destroyed files and mere speculations.
For the most part, the bug picked up nothing other than the scratching of a pen across paper. There were a few talks about mafia business, none of them relevant to the matter at hand. As the Mourning came to a close, Tsuna was about to give up, when he was suddenly hit by a stroke of luck.
"You've been smoking a lot more lately, Coyote," Timoteo was saying, sounding utterly exhausted. "What's on your mind?"
"Death by cigarettes is the least of my worries," the right hand man retorted sardonically. "I will sooner die from the high blood pressure that your heir is giving me."
"I think Tsunayoshi is a fairly charming young man. Give him a few more years and he'll be just fine."
"I don't dislike Tsunayoshi per se. It's that hitman tutor of his. Reborn."
Timoteo sighed heavily. "Do not speak that name in my presence when we are mourning. It has been ten years, and every year the wound in my heart re-opens."
"But it's not over. He will surely come to kill me." There was a long pause. "I...I have a confession, Timoteo. A confession to make so that there is still hope I can meet you in Heaven."
"Coyote-"
"Ten years ago, I discovered that you had a child outside your marriage." There was a bitter laugh. "You had left your personal phone in my care, and I had picked up a call, only to hear an irate woman on the other end demanding payments for raising her child. I investigated this matter, and as it turned out, she had been blackmailing you for fifteen years."
Timoteo was silent.
"After that, I sought out a hitman to remove the thorns from your side. To protect you, your reputation and the Vongola bloodline. That hitman was Ottavio, whom I promised to consider appointing as the next Varia boss. But he took your son and moulded him into a cold blooded killer."
"My god," Timoteo whispered. "What have we done?"
"I am to blame," Coyote answered grimly. "By sending Ottavio after him, I had doomed us all to an even crueller fate. As such, I am to blame for the death of Enrico, Federico and Massimo."
"You speak the truth," Timoteo said quietly. "Reborn was given no love and was viewed as nothing more than a weapon or a means to an end. But you are not the only one at fault."
"I have failed you, Timoteo, both as your right hand and best friend. I...I am sorry."
A deafening gunshot rang out, followed by a shocked gasp and a tortured scream.
"Emergency!" Timoteo shouted. "Coyote has collapsed!"
Vongola Nono's blood sons were buried, Xanxus was encapsulated in his ice prison and Reborn rose above them all, triumphant in this twisted game.
He stood before the mirror that had been brought into Ottavio's office, shifting uncomfortably in this ridiculously expensive suit that was too old-fashioned for his liking. It was tight around the shoulders, with rather unsightly padding, and was overall improper for combat.
"Straighten your posture," Ottavio ordered, emerging from the adjacent room. He slapped Reborn's lower back, and tucked his tie beneath the collar of his shirt. "Trust me, you will be fine."
"Nice tailcoat," Reborn quipped with a snort. "If only you had a knack for fashion as you have with scheming."
Ottavio peered at him, amusement glinting in his frigid blue eyes. "You are anxious about meeting your father."
"Well...I don't know how he will respond," Reborn answered with a sigh. "He does not know who I am, and he just lost all four of his sons. Even an idiot would not be pleased when a secret fifth comes into the picture."
"You will be fine," Ottavio repeated, unfazed. "Remember what I taught you."
Dread was crawling through Reborn's gut by the time their limousine reached the Vongola Mansion. He kept his head low as they were led into Vongola Nono's office, wondering if it was his Hyper Intuition acting up, or simply anxiety from finally meeting the man he'd spent a lifetime despising.
But as soon as they stepped inside the room, there was a flash of orange, and Reborn instinctively stepped back as livid Sky Flames engulfed the man beside him.
Ottavio's agonised screams echoed throughout the room as he burned, his lifelong dreams and ambitions reduced to ash on a plush carpet. The fate of a traitor who had angered the gods.
Timoteo's stone cold gaze shifted to Reborn. "It was you who sent me the recording of Ottavio's treachery, was it not?"
Reborn widened his eyes as he found himself at the end of Timoteo's gun. "Sir-"
"I should kill you too," Timoteo said, his expression darkening. "The two of you were conniving behind my back to dethrone me and eliminate my heirs. You attempted to pin the blame on Xanxus. Tell me, Reborn - why should I let you live?"
As Sky Flames lashed out at him, Reborn thought of so many excuses, but uttering them would imply that he had done wrong, and have him playing right into the old man's hands.
Reborn gritted his teeth. "I am your son."
"I see no son of mine," Timoteo intoned. "Only another traitor."
"Then look at me," Reborn commanded, leaning towards the mafia boss with his palms against the desk. "Look at me. What do you see?"
"A pitiful child vying for attention. How old are you, Reborn? Twenty? Twenty-five?"
The words angered Reborn like no other. How dare the old man regard him with such pity, and speak as though he knew him! With a snarl, he grabbed the boss by the tie, foregoing his gun as he attempted to strangle the life out of him and cremate him with his own Flames-
Only there were none.
"You have proven yourself unworthy of wielding the Vongola Sky Flames. I have permanently sealed them."
Since when-?! He glanced at his hands, bound together by crystal. The crystallisation of Vongola Sky Flames - the same crystal that had encased Xanxus. The more Reborn struggled, the faster the Flames spread, until his all his limbs were frozen.
"When you cool your head, you will realise that this is for the best," Timoteo murmured mournfully, leaning his staff back against the desk. The Dying Will Flame on his forehead flickered out, and he sagged with exhaustion. "I cannot forgive you, but there have been too many deaths. I want you to live. And regret."
"You expect me to accept this?" Reborn hissed.
"I am not a heartless man, Reborn. I know of the hardships you have lived through. And when you find yourself utterly lost and alone, I will not abandon you." Timoteo's condescending words were full of foreshadowing, as if he knew of a grim fate that Reborn didn't. "The Vongola and I - we will help you then."
Timoteo left the office, leaving Reborn snarling in his bounds, struggling to conjure his Flames. But his Sky Flames could not be summoned, and his Sun Flames crystallised as soon as they emerged, adding additional layers to his unbreakable ice prison.
He did not know how long he had remained in that state, or whether he was hallucinating when the area before him blurred. A man with an iron mask stepped out of the mist, tipping his hat towards Reborn in greeting.
Reborn really shouldn't have been surprised. Timoteo must have known Checkerface was coming - there had been no other reason to keep him restrained in the room. How charming of Timoteo to pass his problems to someone else.
Checkerface was chuckling softly as he approached Reborn. "Our last conversation did not end so well," he began, dragging out his words as if he had all the time in the world. "I was hoping you would reconsider…"
Tsuna's first experience at Mafia Land had more or less been traumatic enough for him to never want to return. But when Dino mentioned that Reborn was taking a vacation there, Tsuna did not delay in making the trip halfway across the world to the Pacific. After calling in some favours and getting his Mist Guardian freed, of course.
"You will let us onto the island," Tsuna told the guards at the border of Mafia Island sweetly, tossing a briefcase full of gold ingots onto the table. He'd learned plenty since his last visit. "There will be no questions or complaints - only compliance."
Behind him, Mukuro smiled eerily down the black-suited mafiosi as they scrambled over to examine the gold's authenticity. The Mist's hand was over his trident, in case anyone decided to pull a gun on them.
"It's fake," one of the black-suits hissed, closing the briefcase. "Seize them."
"Uh oh," Mukuro sang. Tsuna waited outside as the room filled up with Mist Flames and terrified screams. And ten-headed snakes and spiders with a million eyes and legs. And pillars of roaring fire.
When the illusions died down, Tsuna went back inside and grabbed the briefcase, before dumping its contents over the bulkiest mafioso's head.
"How about you tell me where Reborn is, and all this shiny fake gold is yours?" Tsuna drawled, giving him a dangerous smirk. The mafiosi stared back at him, their gazes unfocused and eyeballs twitching from the horrors they had just witnessed.
Mukuro raised his trident, and the gates to the island resort were immediately opened.
Reborn zipped up his bag and placed his fedora onto his head. He took a deep breath as he stepped out of his room, preparing to meet his fans for the last time before returning to Japan.
He could barely react when arms suddenly wrapped around his torso and he was buried into someone's chest. Someone's very familiar and very flat chest.
Leon licked his ear, refusing to morph into a gun at command. Reborn gave the chameleon an irritated sideways glance.
"What part of meeting me in Japan did you not understand, Dame-Tsuna?" Reborn asked, not bothering to mask the disdain in his voice.
"You left me in Italy!" his student retorted with a pout.
"I had a job."
"Yeah right. That's why you were cooped up in your room at Mafia Island all week. Colonello told me you were eaten by Verde's dinosaurs and nobody had seen you since you first arrived."
"I was busy."
Tsuna sighed. He led them back into the room and locked the door. "I know, Reborn. I know what happened."
Still, Leon refused to morph into a gun. Reborn's other gun was inside his bag, but grabbing it would be too unclassy.
"If you are here to give me a lecture, I am not interested," he told his student flatly. "But I will allow you to ask one question."
"How did you become my tutor?" Tsuna asked in a low voice.
That was what his student wanted to know? But this wasn't a test. Just genuine curiosity and concern, and Reborn wanted to rip that innocent expression off his student's face.
"I was indebted to Timoteo. The Vongola offered me sanctuary after I was cursed."
"Even after what you did?"
"I merely reasoned that if the heir could not survive past me in my weakened cursed form, he should not become the next boss."
Tsuna pulled at his own hair in despair. "You killed me so many times! Why didn't you just tell my grandpa I died so he could leave me alone? Or rather, why didn't you eliminate me too?"
Because you were so pure, Reborn thought, a faint smile tugging at his lips. You had no ulterior motives. You saw the best in everyone around you and made us believe we were better than we were.
"Because you were stronger than them," Reborn answered instead. "You had the highest potential."
His student rolled his eyes, seeing through the blatant lie. "Too bad I forgot to turn on my voice recorder. Would you repeat that?"
"You have asked your question and I have a flight to catch," Reborn cut in sharply.
Tsuna smiled at him. "We're not going back to Japan."
Reborn halted, a twinge of anxiety running down his spine. Impossible. Did the Vongola -
"Let's run away," Tsuna said firmly, his gaze glowing orange like a sunset. "I don't want to be a mafia boss. You are trapped by the Vongola. We can start a new life together."
"What a wonderful idea," Reborn replied sarcastically. "And where exactly do you plan to go?"
Tsuna's smile stretched wider. "It so happens that I purchased an island just off the Sicilian coast. Mare Diavola. I'm sure you've heard of it."
Reborn gave him a sceptical stare. "And where did you get the money to purchase a priceless island resort?"
"I pawned off the Vongola rings. And Mukuro proved to be most helpful after I used Bermuda's favour to get him out of Vendicare," Tsuna said mysteriously.
The migraines were returning. Reborn rubbed his temples and sighed. "I hope you realise what exactly you have done. And that things will be far from pleasant when the Vongola has you on your knees."
Tsuna shook his head. "But we have the greatest hitman in the world! And then we've got Mukuro and Byakuran and everyone else who can stay on the island with us so the creepy old men can't touch us!"
"And pray tell, where do you fit in that scheme?"
"I could be your loveable student! And maybe your right hand!" Tsuna tried, his cheeks turning pink. "Anyway, when we have our own stronghold, we can then take over the world and unite the underground. With love!"
"A world of your own," Reborn mused.
"A world of our own," Tsuna corrected. "A place for both of us, Reborn."