The first time Lambo noticed that he was being followed was when he stopped at the market to buy some flowers and had happened to see the flicker of black out of the corner of his eye. At first, he'd just written it off as paranoia (a lot of people wear black after all, he himself included), until he started getting that burning sensation that came whenever someone was watching you intently.
Psychic premonition, Ipin had once called it, the feeling that you are being watched presented in the form of burning eartips, rapid prickling all up and down your shoulders and neck, and a cold sense of dread that made Lambo's eyes tear up as he wondered if he was going to be shot at again.
Trying his best to ignore his stalker ("Tol. Er. Ate. Tol. Er. Ate. Must. Stay. Calm!"), Lambo continued along his way, suddenly thankful he hadn't left his horns at home., as if nothing out of the ordinary was wrong.
The second time he managed to catch a glimpse of his stalker was when he entered the bakery. In the reflection of the glass display case, he could see a man across the street wearing a black suit (which wasn't actually very suspicious, considering this was the business district) staring into the shop. Before he could discern anything else, the baker was back with his order, and the man had moved out of sight again.
After leaving the bakery, the left side of Lambo's brain set about to try and find a way to loose his tail. It cooly began suggesting various routes and calculating the risk of calling the man out as opposed to just turning around and shooting him in the face.
On the other hand, the right side of his brain had long ago dissolved into frantic tears and was currently wailing loudly about how he was going to die and wishing that he hadn't been quite so mean to Tenten that day, and being generally unhelpful (about like usual, though at least it was in full agreement with the "shoot the stalker in the face" plan).
With a loud sigh, Lambo sat down on a nearby bench and leaned back to stare up at the sky.
"Okay, seriously," he muttered, loud enough for the man standing nearby to hear. "I know you're there. Which makes you probably the lamest stalker in the history of lame stalkers if you can't even hide from me."
Reborn stepped into sight and Lambo almost fell of his bech (almost, he was proud to say) and gave a shrug.
"I wasn't really trying."
Lambo rolled his eyes as he pulled himself back up. "Of course not," he snorted. "If you were, we wouldn't be here. No whattya want?"
Reborn moved to sit beside him and Lambo scooted over childishly setting his cake and flowers inbetween them as a sort of barrier, causing Reborn to smile faintly at him.
"Do you know what today is?"
Lambo stared at his (friend? partner? boss?) Reborn with a blank expression.
"Um...no? Should I?"
Reborn chuckled. "I suppose not...you were pretty young then..."
Lambo raised an eyebrow at the man's odd behavior. "What are you talking about? What am I supposed to remember?"
"Don't worry," Reborn replied calmly. "You'll get your answer in about..." he glanced down at his watch, "...two minutes, give or take."
"Seriously, Reborn," Lambo whined. "Just tell me!"
Reborn's smile flitted across his face again. "If you don't know...I'm not going to tell you."
Lambo's face registered shock for a moment before he exploded, leaping to his feet. "What the hell?!" Of all the stupid-! I'm gonna kill you, you little-!"
The remainder of his rant was cut off as Lambo found himself being engulfed in a cloud of blue smoke. When it had cleared up, Lambo found himself staring at a seemingly young child wearing a suit, top hat, and yellow pacifier around his neck.
"Well," the baby murmured, "that was odd."
Lambo gave a start as he realized that he was staring at a ten-years-ago version of his many-years-older friend, in baby form (that made more sense in his head), Reborn the Hitman Tutor. And that was also about the moment that he figured out what had just happened and that he was still just a bit pissed at Reborn for not warning him or something.
--
Ten years later, to the minute, Reborn lifted a sobbing two-year-old Lambo into his arms (along with the flowers and the cake) and steadily made his way to the infirmary he knew the twelve-year-old Lambo was going to be needing when he returned five minutes later.
The End
