As they say in Italy, Italians were eating with a knife and fork when the French were still eating each other. The Medici family had to bring their Tuscan cooks up there so they could make something edible. – Mario Batali
One day Tsuna would like to be able to look into Reborn's smug, bastard face and shout are you fucking kidding me?
Today was not that day.
Tsuna knew with certainty that he was playing into the arcobaleno's trap, he could see it in the child's beetle black eyes (and though Reborn was growing again after the curse broke but the now eleven-year old seemed to be becoming more childish as time went on). Yet even if it was a trap, Tsuna allowed his expression to morph into one equal parts disbelief and terror. The Mafia Don wasn't sure if Reborn knew he was humouring the Hitman instead of genuinely being helpless against another one of the devil-child's schemes, but he hoped one day heaven would reward him for this sacrifice. He was rewarded with a smug little smirk and the brunet had to ask himself just how far he'd go for other people's happiness.
"Stop complaining, useless-Tsuna."
Tsuna twitched. If Reborn could actually read minds – as he was once convinced – then Tsuna would have been dead years ago.
"It's not that big of a deal."
The brunet grit his teeth. Reborn was infuriating, yes, but Tsuna did care for the Hitman, and nothing the other ever did really put him in danger with no way out. It wasn't even that often that Reborn decided to create chaos for the hell of it any more, although when he did...
"I understand that learning about the weapons of past Vongola bosses is a good history lesson," Tsuna started, trying not to sound too frustrated with his most trusted advisor. "But I fail to see how fighting Xanxus with forks will be beneficial to me at all. I'll get destroyed!"
Reborn gave him that pitying, patronising look that had been irritating as hell when he was in the body of a three year old and remained so until that very day. It was an indicator of just how arrogant Reborn managed to look that he could pull it off when he was two foot high.
"Don't be such a wimp, Useless Tsuna."
Of course, nobody dared point out that Tsuna was arguably one of the most competent Mafia men currently alive, after Reborn of course. The brunet had to control his expression quickly before the twitching of his eyebrows gave away just how done he was with this. And he hadn't even gotten into the ring yet.
Xanxus of course, was ecstatic for any reason to pummel Tsuna into the ground. Regardless of how close they came over the years, there was no way the Varia leader would pass off a chance to prove his superiority after his initial, humiliating defeat at the hands of the younger man.
"Be careful, Useless Tsuna," Reborn started, presenting him with a box. Tsuna almost blinked in surprise at the warning, before a small warmth spread through his core.
"These were used by Quarto himself, don't break them."
Any feelings of warmth immediately faded. And Tsuna's eye twitched. That little bastard.
With a resigned sigh, Tsuna picked up the largest fork and turned to face his opponent. Xanxus had the look of a hungry animal just about to feat upon the flesh of its prey.
Lord help me, Tsuna thought, before he rushed forwards to attack.
To his dying day, Tsuna would not be able to accurately retell the events of that day. All he remembered was the large, explosive clash between his and Xanxus' flames, an unexpected visit from Lambo and Gokudera, a lot of shouting and then pink obscuring his vision before darkness.
Tsuna landed with a grunt, his body crashing into another. An ear splitting crack resounded from just behind him, and Tsuna's intuition blared like a siren.
Just as the other occupants of the room caught on, with their loud shouts piercing the air, Tsuna had flung the flaming fork in his hand on instinct, still high strung from the fight with Xanxus he had been in the middle of not even a moment previous. A choked, gurgling sound was quickly cut off, and when the smoke cleared, two bodies lay dead.
Glancing down with the most foreboding feeling he'd ever had, Tsuna looked to see that his fall had been broken by none other than the recently deceased Vongola Quarto. A sluggishly bleeding bullet wound could be seen right over where his heart would have been.
Oh, shit.
Almost afraid to look, Tsuna raised his eyes to the second dead body in the room, a non-descript assassin – gun still hanging loosely in his hand – with a still flaming fork sticking out of his throat.
"Quarto!"
Tsuna scrambled to his feet, so very close to hyperventilating, because shit, fucking shit he'd just appeared with a bang the exact moment the fourth boss of Vongola had been assassinated.
He was dead, he was so, so dead. Vongola were going to string him up and cut his body into itty bitty pieces and–
"Quarto!" The man appeared before Tsuna, shaking him a little. "Are you okay?"
What.
Could they not see the slowly cooling corpse of their boss? Had they been hit on the head? Last time Tsuna was aware, he had been a short, brunet Japanese boy – not a tall, blond, Italian man. Vongola Quarto was wide enough to rival three of him, for Christ's sake!
"I'm so glad, Quarto!" Another man sighed in relief, while still addressing Tsuna. "What a time to muster your soul-fire." He grinned. "And what a perfect weapon! I didn't see that coming."
Tsuna had to work very, very hard to keep his face blank. He might be a little slow, but even he could see there was something very wrong here. (And the implication that he might be the one to create the legacy of most ridiculous Mafia Boss weapon ever was not lost upon Tsuna within all the raging chaos of his thoughts. He was going to kill Reborn.)
"I'm simply glad we finally found something you'd react with. I'll have to order a dozen more of these soon."
Some fourth man was checking over the body of the recently deceased Vongola Boss.
"I don't know where he came from, but he took a bullet for you, Boss." The man shot the corpse a mixed look of gratitude and respect, but his eyes held no recognition for the body of the man he used to serve. "I'll make sure he's buried in a place of honour."
With slowly dawning horror, Tsuna realised that there was no way out. If even the Boss' closest men didn't realise that he was an imposter, then there was no way Tsuna could convince anyone otherwise – death sentence that it might have been. And to avoid being executed as an imposter anyway, he was going to have to go along with this utterly ridiculous series of events. He couldn't as well leave the Vongola without a leader or an heir.
Tsuna resisted the urge to bury his face within his hands. How was this his life?
It would seem like he'd have to get used to the forks.