No one had known about the miasma until it was too late.
At first, it was just a few aches and pains that were easily ignorable. After all, the Arcobalenos were the strongest in the world; they could endure anything. Perhaps if they had known that all eight of them were suffering the same effects, they would have realized that it wasn't a coincidence, and would have worked on finding a cure sooner. But they were paranoid, wary people, who couldn't fully trust others who could pose a threat to them. And they had never been a particularly tight-knit bunch anyway.
The first to go was Skull.
It was a surprise to them. Skull had been the weakest in terms of sheer strength and brains, but he was 'immortal' and could take anything thrown at him without so much as a broken bone. And, in a way, they had also thought that they, too, were immortal. The curse was an unwanted burden, but it took care of possibilities of death; it prevented them from aging and from ever catching fatal diseases. They could still be killed, presumably, but they were the strongest seven for a reason.
Then Skull died, hacking up blood on Mafia Island while Colonello watched helplessly by his deathbed. At that moment, their mortality struck them and, though they would never admit it, they were terrified.
The remaining seven went to Verde. He couldn't find a cure, but he did find a way to block the miasma's effects. But he had died before he could complete the project, leaving Giannini to salvage his blueprints.
But Giannini was not as talented as he would eventually be, and the rest of the Arcobaleno fell.
Mighty as they were, there was no coming back from death.
"Fix this."
"Hibari-san, I- -"
"Fix this."
Tsuna stared helplessly at the limp Storm Arcobaleno in his Guardian's arms. They hadn't been able to devise a cure, and Fon hadn't been wearing a protective suit...
He turned hopeless eyes up to his friend's face.
"We'll try our best, Hibari-san."
The procedure was long, nerve-wracking, and ultimately...useless. He had his best men on the job; Shamal, Ryohei, Giannini...even Reborn had tried to use his Sun Arcobaleno powers before Tsuna realized the risk of his tutor getting infected and convinced him to leave.
In the end, Fon himself refused further treatment.
"..enough.."
"But- -" Tsuna protested.
Fon shook his head mutely and gestured for Hibari to come closer. Tsuna moved out of the way as his Guardian complied, glaring down at the dying baby.
"You will not die."
"...every..one..dies.." he attempted a weak smile that the Cloud Guardian did not return.
"Not you."
"I..am sorry.."
"There is nothing to be sorry for." Hibari snapped. "Just live."
"..take care of..I-pin..pl- -please.."
"Do it yourself. You will be fine; as will she."
"..Kyoya.."
"No."
"..be strong, sūn zi.."
Fon's eyes slid close and he faded away. The red pacifier turned grey, clattering to the table loudly in the silent room.
Tsuna wiped tears from his cheeks and glanced at his Cloud Guardian. He hadn't seen the older man this shaken in years, not since their first meeting with Mukuro.
Hibari snatched up the stone pacifier with shaking hands and made his way out of the room. Tsuna stared after him sadly and wondered what connection Hibari had had with the Storm Arcobaleno.
He received his answer the day after, when a photograph appeared unexplained in Fon's otherwise empty casket. He peered at the smiling Chinese man teaching a grumpy dark-haired five-year-old how to perform a kata, and he felt grief crush his already aching heart.
For the next two weeks, Tsuna received reports of hundreds of Millefiore agents being massacred by a single man. A monster, they called him; ruthless and inhumane.
He did nothing to stop it.
Mammon shrieked as Colonello fell, his body disappearing before it even hit the ground.
"Isn't that a shame." said the Six Funeral Wreath member who had been sent to target them. Mammon didn't know or care which one it was. "Well, now I guess it's just you. And that weakling over there."
The illusionist floated backwards, levitating over Belphegor's prone form protectively.
"Don't you touch him," she snarled, tears tracking down her face.
He had followed them, the idiot, and hadn't been prepared for the ambush when it came.
The man smiled lazily. "And what would you do if I did?"
The Mist Arcobaleno met the man's eyes, fury bubbling up over Colonello's death and the threat to Bel. In the next moment, the man was screaming and clawing at his eyes, lost in a hellish delusional world of Mammon's making.
She was so focused on making Colonello's murderer suffer that she didn't notice the second Millefiore agent sneaking up behind them.
"Stop the illusion. Or I'll kill him."
Mammon froze as the new person held one of Bel's knives to his throat.
The man stood languidly, shaking off the effects of the Mist's powers. "Well. That was interesting. Now where were we? Ah yes, you're the only one left. How should we kill you?" he mused, apparently giving serious thought to the question. Then a sadistic smile split his face, and he turned back to Mammon, who slid closer to Bel. "Oh, don't be scared. We're not all that cruel, you know? In fact, I'll even let you choose the way you want to die."
"What?" Either Mammon had misheard, or the creep was even more psychotic than she had thought.
"Yes." He tossed a blade at her feet. "Why don't you just...kill yourself? It'd be less painful for you, and I'd get 'driving an Arcobaleno to suicide' on my rep. Everyone wins."
"You're insane." Mammon spat, grabbing the blade and aiming it at the man's heart.
"Your friend isn't our target."
The illusionist stopped.
"I don't have to kill him. I won't lay a finger on him. But if you fight back, he will die. Do you really think you can get us both before my partner over there can slit your friend's throat?"
Mammon gripped the blade's handle until her knuckles turned white.
When Xanxus and the rest of the Varia finally arrived, there was nothing left but an unconscious prince, and a stone cold pacifier on the ground.
Reborn was the last to go.
There had been no heartfelt farewells, no echoing last words.
Tsuna had just woken up one morning to find a darkened pacifier in the smaller bed near his, nestled comfortably amongst the white pillows.
It was woefully unfitting that he died in his sleep, the Decimo thought morosely, and not on the battlefield. Five years ago he wouldn't even have entertained the thought of Reborn dying, but once the Arcobalenos started disappearing, his world view shifted and he often woke up with nightmares of an infant corpse. The one recurring theme all those dreams had was that Reborn always went down in a blaze of glory, strong and powerful even as he fell.
It was unfair that even that was taken away.
Of course, Tsuna realized that if his tutor had truly gone out on the battlefield, there would have been little glory to be gained. Towards the end, Reborn had been pale and sickly, hooked up to IVs and cardiographs, unable to even get to his feet without a pained grimace. He wouldn't have lasted long.
The Mafia Don buried his face in the still-warm sheets, muffling his sobs. It wasn't fair. Reborn was- had been- the strongest person he knew -had known. It wasn't fair that he became so weak, that he died this way. Tsuna should have been stronger; should have done something. He had the entire Vongola at his disposal, and he couldn't even save eight people?
He punched the bedding in frustration.
He was useless. No good. Every one of those high school bullies had been right about him.
Something rustled, and a wrinkled sheet of paper poked out from under the mattress. Tsuna pulled it loose from the bed frame, and stared at the neat cursive writing that he knew almost as well as his own.
Dame-Tsuna,
If you're reading this, I'm dead. Sick or not, I would have killed you if you got anywhere near my stuff.
He almost laughed, because it was so Reborn that it almost felt like the baby was right there talking to him. But he wasn't; Tsuna was never going to hear Reborn's voice again.
A turmoil of emotion raged in Tsuna as he ran trembling fingers over the ink, committing each line to memory.
It was short, but its brevity did nothing to lessen its impact. Although his tutor had probably intended for the letter to have a different effect, to Tsuna each word in ink was another word that would never be spoken. Each sentence was another dagger in his heart. And each moment spent reading this was another moment realizing that Reborn wouldn't come back; there was no one to hit him on the head in the mornings, no one to scold him over mannerisms, no one to guide him and teach him.
Reborn was truly gone.
Goodbye, Tsuna. I'm proud of you.
-Reborn.
The paper crumpled in his hand. It just wasn't fair. The baby had never said those words when he'd been alive; Tsuna wanted to hear them from Reborn's mouth, not some second-hand note.
He wanted Reborn back- -he wanted his tutor, his friend back.
And he would do whatever it took.
"Oi, trash. I...need to talk to you."
Tsuna looked at the man who had barged into his office. Under any other circumstances, he would have been detained by security. But after the Arcobalenos' deaths, Tsuna had stated that he would allow his Guardians and anyone from the Varia into his office at all times, figuring that the least he could do was be there for them in this time of need.
He probably should have retreated that statement. His eyes flickered to his watch, then he stood and met Xanxus in the middle of the study. Five minutes.
"What can I help you with?"
The other man looked astonishingly uncomfortable. Tsuna would have said he looked awkward if it had been anyone else, but this was Xanxus.
The Varia boss opened his mouth and closed it again, looking as though he'd swallowed a lemon. Then he cleared his throat and tried again.
"When your tutor died..." he began. Tsuna tensed, but the other didn't seem to be trying to pick a fight. Xanxus licked his lips nervously, and continued. "..I..how did you deal with it?"
The Decimo's eyes softened. "You're talking about Viper?"
Xanxus scowled. "Bel won't stop moping. Oh, he grins like a fucking lunatic and makes everyone piss their pants and acts fucking normal. But he misses shots, the easy ones, and he goes into her room for fucking hours. Yesterday he had the new illusionist make an illusion of her, and he hugged it like the freaking psychopath he is."
The psychotic prince being miserable was another sign of the destruction Millefiore had wreaked. Hearing about this was the last straw.
He glanced at his watch, and readied himself. One minute.
"I heard your cloud is the same way."
Tsuna winced. Hibari had been getting worse and worse since Fon's death. The image of his unshakeable Guardian furious and hacking at the nameless enemy agents, a suspicious shine in his eyes, steeled Tsuna's resolve.
"He has been," the Decimo agreed, adjusting his watch once again. Thirty seconds."But I'll fix it. I'll fix everything, Xanxus. I promise."
Xanxus looked at him long and hard. Then he nodded, something akin to respect in his eyes. There was a knock on the door.
Three, two. He watched the Varia boss head for the ornate doors, watched his guardians enter, surprise in their eyes.
One.
Then the bullet burst through the back of his skull and he saw Xanxus turn around, cursing, Yamamoto and Gokudera running towards him, Ryohei heading for the broken window, Hibari standing over him impassively- -
Reborn's dead pacifier, lying on his desk.
His eyes closed, and he used his last vestiges of consciousness to hope that he had made the right choice.
There was no going back.