The air was heavy with the scent of machine oil and metal. It was pretty typical of a motorcycle repair shop, with a hint of smoke on every breath you inhaled, and the clang and bustle of a busy shop breaking up the cool morning air with human shouts and the groan of old machines. For Tsuna, it was peaceful. He had managed to get all the way through middle school with barely passing grades, and then went to a vocational school instead of attempting high school. Nana had been supportive, in her own way. She had thought that becoming a mechanic was very romantic, like his father's construction business. It had almost been enough to make him want to go to high school instead. But then he'd looked at his test scores, and the bruises on his arms, and decided that he wanted to try something else.
He was good with his hands, really. It was just everything else he had problems with. The bullying had not gone away when he had changed to his new career path. In some ways, it had gotten worse, as his delicate features and short stature had attracted even more attention at his new school. That was when he had started learning self defense. But that was in the past. Now, he was a 24 year old mechanic. He hadn't seen his father in five years, and called his mother every other day. He didn't really talk to anyone except her, though. It wasn't as if he couldn't talk to other people. He just didn't want to.
Recently, he had been working on a gorgeous motorcycle that had been painted purple and textured as if it was made of clouds. The owner was often overseas, and had taken to leaving the beauty at this garage every time that he wasn't in town. Honestly, Tsuna was in charge of it by default- everyone else seemed to scared of the owner to dare to touch the paint. Tsuna privately thought that was ridiculous- Hibari-san would be much more likely to hurt them if he came back and discovered that his motorcycle hadn't been worked on. Tsuna had only met the man once. There had been no words exchanged. It had been one of the better parts of a particularly bad week.
He had been on edge all day. It was making him clumsier than usual, and he'd already dropped a wrench on his foot and walked into a wall. No one at the garage was laughing, though. They'd worked with him long enough to know that the more injuries Tsuna got, the worse the next problem was going to be. By the time he'd banged his head against something for the second time that day, people were starting to leave early, and he knew that others were about to start a very extended lunch break. By the afternoon, only Tsuna and a couple of brave or inexperienced souls were still around.
It was an hour before closing when everything went to hell. An explosion went off, causing the loose nuts and bolts to rattle, and some of the more delicate items to shake dangerously. The explosion had sounded like it was pretty far in the distance, but Tsuna had a bad feeling, that was only underscored by the second explosion five minutes later that sent some unsecured items tumbling to the floor.
Looking at the last remainders of the garage crew, Tsuna spoke up. "If you have family, then you should go home. If not, please help me close down the shop." All of the people left, some sending worried looks back at him, some running towards their houses. He hoped they'd be okay. Now that the trouble had started, and there was no one around, his clumsiness was almost completely gone. Quickly but competently, Tsuna began closing to down the garage for the day. Every 5 minutes, another explosion rocked the room, a little closer than the one before. Tsuna could probably adjust his watch by the explosions.
It made him worried, because that type of precision meant that it wasn't an accident. Hibari-san would be mad. Finished closing the garage, Tsuna headed out front to where his motorcycle had parked. He had made it from the scrapped parts of other machines, and painted it pale orange trimmed with a light blue. There were golden flames licking along every part of it. The motorcycle was his most prized possession. Starting it up and heading home, Tsuna gave thanks to whoever was listening that his mother did not live in Namimori, where he worked. As he rode, he saw flames burning in the distance. As well as the normal orange ones, Tsuna was puzzled by the abundance of purple flames, as well as every other color of the rainbow. Did one of the bombs blow up a firework factory or something? But there were no firework factories in Namimori.
Tsuna's journey back to his apartment was slow going. It seemed like every street, there was someone who needed help. When he had tried calling an ambulance for a car crash, the call hadn't gone through. He had never been more thankful that he usually brought his tools home from work. Prying the car door open, he had been careful to check that the woman who was calling for help did not have a spinal injury before pulling her out of her car. He didn't want to make anyone worse. The man in the other car was harder because he was unconscious, but at least his only noticeable injury was the hole in his hand. Tsuna quickly bound it up with some bandages he always kept on him for his personal injuries.
"Thanks," said the woman, who was noticeably calmer now, "But I can take it from here. I know where this monkey," she gestured at the man she was supporting, "lives." With that, the lady with short brown hair done in a sophisticated cut, slowly staggered away. Getting back on his motorcycle, Tsuna headed down another block, this time at a much slower pace. It would just be embarrassing to get in an accident so soon after helping someone else out of a similar situation.
He was only a few streets away from his house when he had to stop again. This time, there was no car. Just a man, slowly bleeding out on the street. As Tsuna approached, the man tensed, his hand tightening around the gun that he was still holding. His urge to help overriding his urge to scream and run in the opposite direction, Tsuna went closer. When he was only a few feet away, he stopped, letting the man realize he wasn't a threat before he got any closer. He had gotten shot at before, and the experience was not something he wanted to repeat. Now that he was closer, Tsuna got his first good look at the man's face. He had a pompadour, the type of which was usually only seen in retro mangas & animes. But this was Namimori, which meant he was a member of the Disciplinary Committee. If he was a member of the DC, then that meant he wouldn't shoot a citizen of Namimori.
Relieved, Tsuna closed the gap and pulled out his trusty first aid kit. "Where are you injured?" he asked, hoping that the man had enough awareness to respond to his question. Leaning in, he listened for the man's response.
"Leave me," were the first words out of his mouth. They seemed to bubble and were distorted in a way that said bad things about the lethality of the injury. "Go indoors. Namimori's peace will be upheld." The wheat stalk he was chewing fell out of his mouth as he spoke. "Kyouya-sama will make sure of it."
"Don't talk," said Tsuna, opening up the DC uniform, and trying to swallow back his instinct to vomit as he saw a flash of white bone piercing up through the skin. Even as he was trying to bandage the wounds, he knew that at this point, it would probably take a miracle for the guy to pull through from what was probably a punctured lung. Wiping his bloody hands on his grimy jeans, Tsuna sat down next to the dying man.
"What's your name?" he asked. "Do you have anyone you want to call?" The DC member drew in a harsh, rasping breath that bubbled on the way out.
"My name is Kusakabe Tetsuya. Vice-Commander of the Disciplinary Committee, Second in Command of the Foundation." He spoke with pride. There were flecks of blood on his face from blood bubbles that had come out of his throat when he had begun to speak. "Kyouya-sama is busy right now. Please tell him that it is an honor to die defending Namimori."
Tsuna could feel tears pricking his eyes as he sat beside this dying stranger. He felt powerless in the face of death. Trying to find a way for Kusakabe to survive, Tsuna once again dialed the emergency line as the next explosion went off. He really needed to head to somewhere safer- the multicolored flames were only a few blocks away from where Kusakabe lay. The emergency line was still busy. Looking through the contact list on his phone, Tsuna was dismayed to realize that besides his mother and his boss, he had no numbers listed. But his self-pity seemed superficial compared to the man next to him, who clearly had at least one friend he would die for. But Tsuna still had hope.
"Kusakabe Tetsuya," Tsuna stated. The name fell clumsily from his tongue. "Hibari would never forgive you if you died. And," said Tsuna, "I have a feeling, that if you just hold on for 10 minutes, a miracle will occur." He didn't know why he said 10 minutes, but he knew that he would always regret it if he didn't convince the Vice-Commander to hold on for as long as possible. Placing one hand on Kusakabe's shoulder to reassure the man that he was not alone, Tsuna prepared to wait.
The explosions that signaled 10 more minutes passing sent Tsuna sprawling and launched Kusakabe into another hacking coughing fit. But this time, when the dust settled, there was a man slightly older than Tsuna standing in front of them. Tsuna blinked. Not standing in front of them. Hovering in front of them, with yellow flames coming out of his boots. There was a bandage across his nose, and his hair was pure white.
"Do you extremely need help?" Asked the man. Overwhelmed, Tsuna nodded. He didn't know what this person could do, but anything was better than nothing. At this point, it was amazing that Kusakabe was still alive.
Dropping out of the air right next to Kusakabe, the weirdo placed his hands on Kusakabe's chest. Then, his hands lit up the same yellow fire that had been coming from his boots. Tsuna nearly threw himself at the dangerous guy, but then noticed that the flames weren't burning Kusakabe- actually Kusakabe was now breathing easier and Tsuna could no longer hear the gurgles that he had taken to mean that Kusakabe wasn't going to make it.
Relieved that Kusakabe had gotten his miracle, Tsuna looked around for his motorcycle. Now there was nothing he could do here. Right now, all he wanted to do was get to his apartment, lock the door, and pretend that the last couple of hours had never happened. If his instincts were right, and they are always right, this was going to be even worse than when the earthquake had hit Namimori a couple of years ago. Taking one last look at the strange sight of healing flames that was still unfolding in front of him, Tsuna swung his leg over his motorcycle and turned on the engine. He had long ago made sure that his motorcycle made as little noise as possible- he had never felt the need to announce his presence or departure.
Back in his apartment, Tsuna leaned against his front door. What a day. Another explosion went off. I hope they're all okay.