All of them could be something else-some danger that drags you down to hell right before your eyes. All of them, Reborn, Hayato, Takeshi, Ryohei, Kyoya, Lambo, Mukuro, Chrome and Tsunayoshi.
It starts easily enough, Reborn is a snake. You see he's dangerous and he watches you with hyper-focused eyes. When the time is right he hits so hard you feel like you're floating on nothing before everything around you crashes down.
It is the fear of a sniper on the battlefield, tensions so thick they mute your screams and burn the fuses within friend and foe alike. Reborn strikes without hesitation or mercy and, if perhaps you do not anger him, no pain. A bullet through the brain. If he chooses to make you suffer you will learn pain that will rip apart your sanity in ways Hell can only wonder at.
Hayato is simple-his is the bomb he wields. Until you light his fuse he is harmless. But terrifying, because every moment you are aware of what he could do, that simple flick of your hand could start the burn and leave you as nothing but the stain on the floor.
The hesitation to go to the riverbank is his alone, the calm reflection of the water before the crocodile's teeth lock into your flesh. He basks in the light discomfort of those around him at the formal events, those who once turned him away now see what he is, the one bubble that you dismiss before you struggle for your life in the attack.
Takeshi isn't so simple. He makes friend so easily that it doesn't make sense to hear that he's more dangerous than Hayato or even Kyoya. But he is. He is a blue-ringed octopus, so friendly and colorful that all the dangers seem to slide away as the friendly and smart cephalopod moves in its, oh, so happy walk. His bite is venom, through and through.
He is the hidden danger of a dam about to burst. It looks safe until the last second when the concrete is in the air and thousands of tons of water starts its freefall across the land, wiping entire buildings off their foundation so easily.
Ryohei is his own warning, and in a certain light, that is far scarier. He is the air raid that accompanies that siren, the deafening cacophony is no consolation at the devastation it will cause. Very few willingly stand beside him and it is those others who feel his wrath all the more-they are unprepared for the sheer volume of both his voice and destruction he brings.
Simply, he is the bull elephant, the loud trumpeting the bell of terror he sets loose when his fists fly, even without his bright flames he causes damage or a rare scale. The yells he produces often turn into the steps of the reaper for those who push too far.
Kyoya is a rare phenomenon, he was born normally but is hyper aggressive. He is the starved piranha and as battle hungry as that beast is just hungry. It is as dangerous as people believe but only under the circumstances, abide by the rules and feel no pain.
Often compared to a deadly cloud, those who make that analogy are far more correct than they assume. Mustard gas would be an apt description. Silent and lethal. Even those who take care of him are wary of him, like the gas in a test tube, one wrong move and everyone in the room would be at rare levels of risk and once unleashed there is no putting the stopper back in and no antidote.
Lambo is far more dangerous now than he was before, the uncontrolled destruction of his youth gone. The cub is the tiger now as the cries transformed into the quiet stalk of a predator. Those who stand against him often underestimate him, like the size of the cat as it hides, the patterns render him nearly unobservable to those who do not see how truly dangerous he is.
He is, quite frankly, falling glass. The shattering of a window dozens of stories above you. It starts with an incredible noise, the shrill scrape of glass breaking before its silent fall to earth. Too many stop to look up as the now deadly pieces rain down.
Mukuro is, perhaps more than the others, closer to his flame's namesake. One of the only things that could be as dangerous as he is would be the fog hiding the fall. His façade disguises the ground and prompts those too bold to assume it is safe and after you become complacent there is the fall with nothing to stop you as you plummet forever down.
People often scoff as his simplicity. He is the fired bullet. To go through everything to his goal what he excels at. It's nearly impossible to stop and if he catches you by surprise you can't stop it at all. Your only hope it that he misses you. There are few simple things-few things that inspire such fear.
The young woman, Chrome, is beautiful and it hides what she can do just like the frills of a lionfish. Behind the mesmerizing colors and forms is the painful price that those who try to touch her feel. Yes, she is delicate, but even if you break her spines they can still bury their toxins in you.
She is the best made blade in the world, so entrancing to look at but all the more deadly because of it. When you first see her you instinctively reach towards her shine, touch her, however, and your blood will flow so fetchingly down her silver edge. And no amount of casings will ever change her, wrap her in silks and she will still eviscerate you.
The leader is two-fold. A dichotomy of his own danger mixed with that of what his own are capable of.
Tsunayoshi is volcano. Silent and still, before the one tremor that destroys everything for miles around, and if you survive the molten wrath you still have the ashen fallout to destroy you. It takes a world-shaking movement to start him but he will end it.
Many compare him, falsely, to a rocket. It would be more apt to liken him to a failing bolt. It is not the explosion of a rocket but the silent, fatal movement that starts the tragedy of him. When you think you are safe he moves and even that which once protected you will turn against you as falling plates of metal collapse under their own weight-with you beneath.
Far more dangerously, he is the keeper of the menagerie and the alpha. By nature, he moves only when he must to destroy those who threaten what is his. It is only by his words do all the warnings mean nothing and all those fatal lists above become nothing but bravado. His pack will stop at his words.
He has shaped their ideology like a great monument or religion. He is beyond the mortal realms and is untouchable. To everyone who comes in contact with him, he is the movement of the soul. At his word buildings will burn and countries turn to dust. He does not change when others try to force him, he forces them to change. To his, every word he utters is the wind and they will ride upon it.