Disclaimer: T-T

Author's Note: Honestly, I'm surprised that I received these kind of responses.. This fic has just been added to 5 communities.. thank you very much.. As for the poll? Hmm.. Reborn is currently in the lead with 38% of the total votes.. is Reborn the Devil, maybe? Just want to tell you that expect the unexpected.. Just be prepared for one hell of a bumpy ride!

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Set the World on Fire

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Chapter 7

Rain: soft, warm droplets of pure moisture that came forth from the slate grey sky.

Falling, falling, falling.

Some descended swiftly onto the pavement, some landed onto clunky umbrella heads, some on the faceless pedestrians traversing the streets below with the utmost alacrity. And yet others seemed to vanish without a trace, stolen away by the fingers of an unseen force just before they hit the ground.

Tsuna watched the sky shed its tears, pressing his hand up against the window, feeling the cool aura of a November rainstorm.

Mira sat quietly opposite him, a steaming mug of coffee in hand.

Neither exchanged words, or even looked at each other. There was no need to. They both understood that such a moment was too delicate for clumsy, fumbling words or awkward glances.

The lounge in the precinct was a shabby place – rusty chairs, dusty wooden shelves stocked with yellowed magazines from god knows which decade, an ancient television set that only worked once every few months, and a musty, big old sofa right next to the grimy windows, where they currently sat.

They sat in absolute silence for a few minutes: Mira taking occasional sips of her coffee, Tsuna still pressing his palm against the window which was now beginning to fog over with the cold; the steady fall of the raindrops keeping the both of them company.

Well-formed lips parted, a mysterious dark brew trickling past them, flowing beyond.

"…that bad, huh?" she said.

He didn't respond.

"Come on, Tsuna. You were a wreck when I found you. Crouched in one corner, facing the door, holding your pistol in one hand, aimed directly at it. You nearly shot me, for god's sake! And what was with the trashed TV, PC and stereo? You didn't destroy them…did you?" she pressed on.

Her words were foggy and distant, as if she were talking through a very poorly made walkie talkie and he was thousands and thousands of miles away from where she was. Her words buzzed and hummed, wrapped in a thick cotton cloak, indecipherable, impenetrable.

Meaningless.

And yet here she was continuing to prattle on, believing she could get him to reveal his inner darkest secrets, show his true self to her and shatter the shell that surrounded him.

"…you know what I'm going to ask, don't you?" Mira mouthed out the words at him, as she looked him directly in the eye.

Tsuna had to admit, Mira was a package of continuous surprises. Never in his five years with her had he seen her looking this determined before – black eyes boring into his, straight tunnels into the windows of her soul. And yet, he couldn't see the woman behind them. All that was there was a fiercely burning drive that would stop at nothing to achieve what it wanted, an impossibly strong strength of will that did what it wanted to, at whatever the cost.

He was both frightened and impressed at the same time.

"Yes," he breathed out throatily.

"Will you tell me?" the mug of coffee was now empty. Mira savoured that last drop of delicious darkness sliding down her throat, as she waited for a reply.

Silence yet again for an uncomfortably long period of time; she relentlessly gazed straight at him, while he simply sat back, looked out the window once more and started tracing shapes on the rain streaked window.

But inside he was thinking, and deeply at that.

Then it suddenly came to him, clear as day.

"Are you free tonight?" he suddenly sat up.

"…yes." She appeared surprised at his sudden movement.

"I will tell you. But not now. Tonight, at my place. Be there at 7pm. The cops the Chief sent to guard the place probably won't bother you since you're detective rank."

She sighed.

"The only way for this to end, and for us to ever catch the guy, is if you tell us everything: why he targeted you, what he has done, and how he knew all of it. I sincerely hope you won't hide anything when I see you tonight…"

He didn't respond.

He sat at the kitchen table, the vintage bottle of rose champagne keeping him company while he awaited Mira's arrival.

Tsuna didn't drink that much, but somehow he felt that this was a special occasion.

Tonight…all of it would end.

Somehow, he felt a little wistful about it. Months of therapy, slowly working at healing those grievous wounds inflicted on him by the divorce, would all end now. And he wasn't even at the finishing stages yet. His subsequent reveal to Mira would spell the end of everything – life would utterly change as he knew it.

He wondered what Kyoko would think of him.

She would look at him with those sad soulful eyes first, but not for long. They would soon transform into that hateful look, the one that had plagued him from young, the one that they always gave: pity with a carefully measured dose of sympathy, this time probably concealing a slightest hint of fear.

Careful now, it would say. Don't overdo it – you don't want him thinking you're actually feeling oh so sorry for him, then he would get mad and probably tear you apart, be careful, you don't know what kind of a monster he is.

Tsuna felt his fists clench subconsciously, tightening their grip around the mobile phone he had in his hand.

That could not happen. He would rather die than let Kyoko know about him, the truth about the man she had once loved. He would never let her know.

Never.

Which was why he found himself sending a text to Mira a couple of hours before their appointed time, a quick succinct text that told all and reeked of guilt and deception.

Sorry. Not tonight. Personal reasons. Don't worry I'll be fine.

…the champagne would help.

So Tsuna found himself sitting there, the lonely man by the table, indulging in glass after glass of champagne.

He let himself go, let the smooth liquid envelope him, fill his insides and produce that warm aura of comfort that came along with indulgence. He brushed aside any remaining shreds of guilt and remorse, and drowned his sorrows, his regrets, his anguish.

Tsuna didn't know how long he sat there drinking, but it seemed like an eternity to him.

When the bottle was nearly gone, he looked up at the wall clock.

6:30pm.

Maybe he would go out again tonight, pick up some other girl, and make himself feel better…

A bell rang out, a soft sweet chime that lifted the fog of his depressive stupor. Tsuna slowly put his last glass of champagne down and looked towards the living room, where his tablet PC awaited him with its newest email message.

Twilight shadows, gently stealing across the floor, their delicate dusky fingers reaching towards him.

Tsuna got up and stumbled out of the kitchen, not caring if the email was from the Chief telling him that he was suspended, or if it was from Mira, admonishing him and expressing her hurt disappointment.

None of you matter anymore. No one does. Except her…

Cradling the tablet PC In his hand, and desperately avoiding his ruined desktop computer on the side (that damn hammer he'd bought last year from the tool shop had finally come in handy), he clicked the email.

Whatever lingering effect the champagne had had on him – as little as it had been, was soon dispelled the moment he read those lines.

Tsuna suddenly remembered a horror movie he'd seen when he was a child: some poor unfortunate kid had made it through the entire movie, apparently surviving the monster that had stalked him and killed every last member of his friends and family. The poor kid was safe now, the monster was never going to find him anymore…

Then a shadow fell across the screen, and Tsuna knew instinctively, without a doubt, that the monster had finally caught up with him, and the kid was going to die a horrible death. Even though the movie ended there and then – with just that ominous shadow – Tsuna knew the kid was doomed. There was no escape.

Because you can't run from it, the monster always finds you in the end, no matter how far you go, just like you can't run from the Devil, he always finds you in the end, no no no you can't run from him, run but you cannot hide, he's coming, he's coming, HE'S COMING –

FROM: levideht

SUBJECT: (no subject)

Why? Why? Why? Why? WHY? WHY?

WHYWHYWHYWHYWHYWHWHY WHYWHYWHY

Truth hath come, truth is here.

Yet you choose to hide in fear.

Worry not, doomed child, in your lies you will drown.

I will descend on you when the sun is down.

He was that child.

Tsuna looked out of the window.

The last rays were already struggling to stay afloat on the horizon. The sun itself was nowhere to be seen.

He had to go, now.

He turned, and sprinted to the front door (thank god it's open!), and stumbled out.

The two cops that the Chief had assigned to guard his flat were nowhere to be seen – some protection, he thought.

But now was not the time. He needed to get away from here, as far as possible, call up Mira, then the Chief, and hopefully let them apprehend the Devil before he slipped out of their clutches again –

"Tsuna? Where are you?" a familiar voice called out, from within the apartment.

Mira.

A vibration in his front pocket.

Numbly, he prised his phone out, and looked at it.

It was from an unknown number.

Dear child, drown not your sorrows in wine.

You walk the path to damnation, such a fine line.

But worry not, I will keep you company today.

Come out from your kitchen, child, and let us play.

In a moment of clarity, he realized everything.

They were both in his flat.

The Devil had probably composed that email long before now – and had remotely sent it with a simple click of a button miles away from his own computer, while he hid in Tsuna's flat, in one of the rooms, and watched as Tsuna drunk himself into oblivion.

Apparently, he wasn't that good at holding his alcohol after all.

Then Mira – that stubborn woman – had ignored his text, entered the flat just moments before Tsuna emerged from the kitchen to check the email, and was now in one of the rooms, perilously close to the Devil and death itself.

He had to get her out of there.

He sneaked back in, his breath shallow and tepid.

The ominously long hallway stretched out before him, doors stretched out wide.

His hand automatically went to his gun at his belt.

Damn it Mira, you shouldn't have come.

Then he heard it again.

"Tsuna….?" she said out loud.

She was in the second last room down the hallway, near the bathroom.

Tsuna felt a short burst relief – quickly replaced by primal fear, as he realized that he wasn't the only one in the flat who possessed the power of hearing.

Running, dashing now – swinging the door open, trudging straight inside.

"Mira, we have to go now – "his voice trailed off as he stared into the completely empty room.

But….

Twilight shadows, softly stealing across the floor, their gentle fingers finally long enough to reach him before abruptly vanishing.

The last rays of light disappeared over the horizon, plunging the gloomy room into the darkness of night.

As he felt the telltale bite of a Taser in his back, Tsuna willed himself to move, to turn, to run – but his body refused to obey him. Instead, he began to spasm, arms and legs twitching uncontrollably as electric current coursed through him, making him jerk back and forth like an epileptic, muscles out of control.

Fading, fading, fading.

The room swam as he slowly began to lose consciousness – but not before he felt smooth hands caress his hair, hushed gentle words being hummed to him, much like how a mother would soothe her distressed child.

A soft tune, a lullaby even, such was its tenderness.

Playtime had begun.

The Devil was here.

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Chapter 9 will reveal who the Devil is! (maybe?)