Summary:
Tsunayoshi reaches out, far more confidently than he normally would. His Flame flickers, guiding his hands until they curl against the sides of Squalo's neck, and Squalo covers one of them with his own flesh hand. A gesture of kindness and gentleness Reborn never thought he'd see from someone like him.
"We'll do our best."
A/N: some personal HC about the nature of flames in this chapter. like in my other fic, everyone's flames have a unique 'signature' that takes the form of scents and sounds, evoking memories and sometimes even flashes of visions.
thanks to Tunafishy for the arcobaleno gathering suggestion that comes into play, too! all the arcobaleno are a little odd. they're old. they've done this many many times, they're tired, they all make dad/mom-level jokes.
the next few chapters will probably be in close chronological order because i want to get the xanxus thing resolved and explained before jumping around again.
/ / / / / / / / /
the moon that never rises
/ / / / / / / / /
"You've become quite complacent in this life, Sun."
His eyes peel themselves open to the inky blackness of the In Between. The Subspace. Carl Jung would call it the Collective Unconscious.
"One might almost think you were.. giving up."
Checkerface hovers before him. He knows what face lies behind that mask, but this is familiar for them. It is grounding, a focal point, for both him and the Arcobaleno. Or whatever it is that they've become now.
"That isn't good." Checkerface sounds almost worried, but that isn't what his particular brand of worry sounds like. Reborn would know. "Your lot is the Will of the Dying, Sun. If you give up now, that will be the end of it."
That honestly doesn't sound too bad. The end. Like the final page of a fairy tale.
"Are you going to give up before you've accomplished your goal?"
His goal? Did he have a goal when this all started? Has he ever had a goal of his own, one that didn't revolve around Timoteo's eternal wish for a young civilian teenager to succeed one of, if not the, strongest families in the mafia?
It's a stupid plan, when Reborn finally sat down and thought about it. For all that his Neo Primo was a wonderful, beautiful, splendid success, it was a stupid plan. Just like the plan to pull his past self into the future to fight Byakuran.
Neo Primo is a success that died before he should have. They weren't done with the world yet.
No, that isn't right. Neo Primo is done with that world. Because that world is dead. Dead and gone, and so is Neo Primo.
There has never been another Neo Primo since the first. They've all been Decimo.
Reborn isn't sure if that's because he never brought up the idea of Neo Primo, or if it's because they just.. aren't. If they're just different. Different from Neo Primo.
That is how he classifies them. Decimo, and Neo Primo.
What about Tsunayoshi, then?
"What about him, Sun?" Checkerface is still there. Reborn is still here. The air around them is warm, smells like water and spice and lightning strikes. Sugar-sweet caramel. The others were just here, then. "If you don't find something to hold onto soon, you'll be leaving him behind."
Strange that he can still smell things in a dream.
"You're not dreaming. You know that."
Yes. He knows.
He smells of sunshine and gunpowder, and lately, like soil warmed by the summer heat.
Checkerface smells like old books, old forests, old houses. Sounds like an old bell, ringing in the distance. Waiting for someone to find him.
"You're letting your affection for this boy get the better of you."
Like a funeral toll.
"Are you willing to leave this world already, Sun?"
No. No, no no no no no.
No—
/ / / / / / / / /
"Reborn?"
He's peeling his eyes open again. Except this time it actually feels like peeling. Like he's been sleeping too long and all the sleep is crusted on his eyelids to keep him from waking up.
That's poetic.
And gross.
"Tsunayoshi," Reborn mutters blearily at the blurry face standing over his futon. At least his back has gotten used to the tatami flooring again.
"Tsuna."
He blinks. Tsunayoshi's expression pinches.
"..Sorry?"
"I told you, you can call me Tsuna. I'm going to keep telling you that until you call me Tsuna."
"When did you say that?"
"Every day for the past two weeks..?"
"..Did I agree?"
"Uh, no, but—"
"Tsunayoshi, then." He stares up at the ceiling and frowns as the other man huffs. "..How old are you?"
"Uh.. 30?"
"..Wrong question. How old are you and how long have I been here?"
"Well, technically I'm turning 30, and you've been here about a month and a half. That's what you said before, anyway, seeing as I can't actually keep track of a calendar."
"Can't- oh. Oh." He sits up, satisfied and finally reoriented along his.. jumbled mess of time-space-dimensional travelling. "Right."
"Reborn, are you sure you're okay? You've been like this for a week now."
"Has it really been a week?"
"Actually it's been two weeks, but the first week wasn't that bad, so I didn't count it." The walking cane pokes him in the calf. "Don't avoid the question."
"What question?"
Tsunayoshi sighs and mutters something as he crouches down, eye-level, even if he doesn't actually make eye-contact. "Are you sure you're okay?"
"Yes," he replies, oh so slowly and carefully that he may as well be trying to convince himself of the fact. More than he's trying to convince the other of it. "I'm fine... Tsunayoshi?"
"..Yes?"
Reborn rubs at his own chin. "How do you manage to shave in the morning?"
Tsunayoshi opens and closes his mouth a few times.
"..Uh. I shaved once when I was.. 17? And it's never come back since." Then he gasps, looking far too delighted for what he's about to ask. "You have stubble, Reborn?"
"..I— Tsunayoshi, I've been living here for over a month and you never realized this?"
"Well it's not like I ever touch your face at the crack of dawn, do I?"
Tsunayoshi does have a point there. Tsunayoshi also has both hands out, fingers twitching like he wants to reach out and... do very inappropriate things to inappropriate places.
Which means it's probably for the best that Reborn guides both of Tsunayoshi's hands to his face- or more specifically, his chin. It's not the first time or Cycle where he's grown a bit of stubble, but it's not really a common feature, either.
He always shaves it down when he can. Only occasionally does he end up in a Cycle with a full or half-full beard.
Tsunayoshi has never wanted to touch it before.
"..It's all prickly," he says, in something akin to wonder. Weird.
"That's what stubble is. I take it you've never felt any before? Not even a shaved head?"
"Only dad's. But he had these weird tufty things too, you know?"
"Oh, I know. I tried to rip them off a few times." Reborn leans back just a bit to avoid getting fingers in his mouth while he yawns. Tsunayoshi's hands hover in place, probably confused by the sudden lack of face. "Sorry. Had to yawn."
"Not because you're tired, I hope. It's almost noon. I've been trying to get you to wake up for hours."
"No wonder I'm starving," he grumbles.
"Come on." Tsunayoshi picks up the cane again and pushes himself to his feet, using Reborn's shoulder momentarily to steady himself. "Breakfast is on the table. You can heat it up again if you like. And... you'll probably want to shave today."
"I'd do that even if you didn't say anything about it, but is there any particular reason you want me all neat and tidy?"
"Kyouya and the others want to talk to you. In the basement."
"You mean the sex dungeon?"
"No." Tsunayoshi's mouth stays a thin smile. "The basement."
..Huh.
Not as exciting as it seemed the first time around.
/ / / / / / / / /
Egidio is still a right menace when they pass by his cell. Reborn wonders what they're feeding him down here. Also, why is he even still alive? The only good hitman or assassin is a dead one. Or one on your side, which generally never happens, so a dead one is still better. When manageable, anyway.
Egidio should be dead. He tried to kill Tsunayoshi, so he should be dead.
He has killed Tsunayoshi. He should definitely be dead.
Tsunayoshi's cane raps against his ankle again. "Stop staring at him."
"I'm going to regret asking this, but how can you tell if all you can see are Flames?"
As much as he's still getting used to Tsunayoshi being actually blind, it takes even more getting used to finally seeing his eye move for the first time in weeks. A Flame-fueled gaze and a Dying Will Flame tend to be the stuff of nightmares for most mafiosi. Nightmares or saviours.
In this case, Tsunayoshi just had to light it to get through a Flame-signature locked security door and hasn't bothered to put it out yet.
"His Flames get excited when he sees me. Thinks about killing me, I suppose. That's how yours get, too, whenever you see him."
"..You can see that much?"
"It's a strange sort of thing." Tsunayoshi looks at him, directly, eye-to-eye. Except, not quite. "..I wasn't born blind, and I know what you actually look like. If I had to compare it... it's like if you were actually on fire. But all I can see is the fire, and not you. Shaped like you, but only just barely."
He looks forward again, tapping the way ahead of him with the cane. Reborn knows he can walk the house just fine without it, though.
"I can't see age, or gender. Height is a little difficult to judge, and weight is only a bit more accurate. I can't see faces, obviously. If you move your limbs, the Flames kind of.. shift around it. Move with it. But there's nothing defined, and nothing to really give me any more depth perception than I already have. Or don't have."
"Maybe if you used both eyes?"
Reborn has toyed around with the eye-patch straps before, rather curious as to how this Tsunayoshi would look with both eyes visible. Foiled each time, of course. He figures it's probably an injury, still tender, or just light-sensitive. Gardening can be pretty dangerous, for the few times Reborn has found himself with a flick of dirt in his eye, or nearly tumbled into a bush.
Tsunayoshi's shoulders pull up. "I only have one eye."
Ah.
"That's.. a pity."
"Oh?"
"Mm." Reborn drifts a little closer as they continue down the stone-lined hall. "You look quite nice with two."
Tsunayoshi doesn't laugh, but Reborn can tell he's smiling. He's not as tense, either.
"..Did they..?"
"Chrome got into a car accident a few years back. They said her eye would never recover, among.. other parts of her."
Ah, yes. Sweet, sweet Chrome who would kill herself saving a cat that wasn't even hers. A cat that no one else would save. He does hope she's had a more permanent solution in this world.
"So you decide to just.. up and give her yours?" Wait. "You don't even have the same blood type."
"I'm a Sky." He sees the smile this time, tugging at the corner of Tsunayoshi's lips. Small and sad. "Skies can do anything."
Skies can do anything. Wasn't that just too true. Everyone knew that, instinctively. Maybe that was why Reborn had always pushed his students so hard. Maybe that was why Timoteo was so insistent for Tsunayoshi to be his successor.
"Dad had already shown me the Dying Will and Hyper Dying Will modes. We found out I could compensate for the one blind eye I had at the time by concentrating more Flames in it than usual. He said that usually it had a chance of affecting the eyesight permanently if used too often, but.. well, it was already blind anyway. No harm, no foul."
"Even so. Giving someone your only working eye isn't something to look down on."
"Considering that nearly half her body was crushed in that accident, my losing an eye is the least of her problems." Tsunayoshi stops at a metal door and tips his head, as though considering the muffled voices behind it. "..She's fine now. We managed to hunt down enough donors to replace anything that needed replacing."
"Can I assume you use the term hunting literally?"
Tsunayoshi quirks a smile in reply. "Now she's got some weird craving for pineapples. Apparently that's been upsetting her a bit."
"I can imagine. She still hates pineapples here? Well, hated." Tsunayoshi chuckles and nods. Good to know the pineapple hair joke still applies in this world. "Are we going inside?"
"In a bit. When we're invited in."
"By who? I thought this was your sex dunge— I mean, basement. I'm assuming you paid for it. That means your basement, your rules."
"I keep forgetting that you've only just arrived recently," Tsunayoshi sighs, but not in a way that is demeaning or scornful. More like.. wistful. Regretful. "Reborn.. even with all of Iemitsu's savings, do you think I could have afforded the payments for this much renovation upfront?"
"You got a loan?"
"Who exactly in this day and age would agree to give that big of a loan to a 20 year old man, blind in one eye, self-employed with no college education and no intention of getting one?"
Reborn frowns. That sounds like a trick question, because he can probably think of a few people willing to pitch in and co-sign on a loan, but not a lot of companies or banks willing or capable of loaning out enough for this sort of renovation, to someone of that description.
He gets his answer when the yelling rises even higher and the door swings open. Tsunayoshi bumps into his chest as he steps back and Reborn reaches up to steady them both before they topple over.
Superbi Squalo stomps out.
"How old is the Varia?" He murmurs for Tsunayoshi's ears only.
"In their 40s. Why?"
...Reborn blinks. "How do you even know that?"
Tsunayoshi twists around to frown at him, confused. "Why would you ask a question you don't expect me to know the answer to?"
"VOI." Ah, there's a shout he doesn't miss at all. "Why the fuck is Renato here, Sawada?"
"Chaos to you too, Superbi," Reborn sniffs. He gave up that name for a reason, why does everyone in this world seem so used to using it?
..Actually, he's not technically an Arcobaleno anymore. Maybe he should go back to being Renato...
...Nah.
Squalo's face contorts into something that's a mix of disturbed and angry. "What the hell is wrong with him?"
"Rude," Tsunayoshi grins. Or so Reborn assumes. He can't see Tsunayoshi's face from here, but he hears the amusement. "He's like the other Arcobaleno now."
"Is he?" Squalo snorts, derisive. "About fucking time."
The swordsman stiffens momentarily. "I can say that, right? He's not going to try to kill me like the other one did for being a smartass?"
"I dunno. Are you, Reborn?"
"Leon and I just had breakfast." He lifts a shoulder to show the sleepy chameleon sprawled out on it. "So unless you want chameleon puke on you, I suggest showing a little more respect to your elders."
"You're right," Squalo says with another grimace, "he is weird."
"I never said anything like that, Superbi." Tsunayoshi still hasn't stopped leaning back against Reborn yet, so it isn't hard to feel how relaxed and not terrified Tsunayoshi is. "How is he? I haven't come to visit in a while."
"Che. Same as always, voi." Squalo fixes Reborn with a scrutinizing look. "Is that what Renato's here for?"
"Let's hope."
The swordsman's head dips in a nod so brief, Reborn could have imagined it. His mind ticks along. How long have they known each other? What relations does Tsunayoshi have with the Varia? Who are they talking about?
Tsunayoshi is obviously a civilian, and yet Squalo seems to defer to him.
"It's Reborn, by the way," Reborn adds. "Not Renato."
"What's up with all of you changing your names all of a sudden? You're Reborn, Viper's Mammon, and you—" Squalo jabs a finger at Tsunayoshi. "You're not aiming for the Vongola seat so stop introducing yourself with a different name, VOI. You don't get a different name."
"I can try!" Tsunayoshi calls out as Squalo sweeps away.
Given the length of his hair, Squalo has either already fulfilled his oath and is just growing it out again for kicks, or he's only made it in the past few years.
The swordsman stops a few steps away and whirls around, frowning and angry but also something else that Reborn doesn't recognize ever being on his face before.
"Sawada!" He shouts, and then says nothing after. Seems to have some trouble with his words. And indeed, rather than say anything else, he stomps right back and stops in front of Tsunayoshi, looking dismissively between him and Reborn.
Tsunayoshi reaches out, far more confidently than he normally would. His Flame flickers, guiding his hands until they curl against the sides of Squalo's neck, and Squalo covers one of them with his own flesh hand. A gesture of kindness and gentleness Reborn never thought he'd see from someone like him.
"We'll do our best."
Reborn has no idea what that's supposed to mean, but Squalo looks satisfied with it. Tsunayoshi drops his hands and the Flame, and the swordsman continues on his way, the detachable sword blade rattling in its sheath at his side.
"So... you know the Varia? Are they retired in the other worlds, too?"
"No," Reborn answers. Retired would explain why Squalo wasn't wearing the Varia uniform, past or future. "Just dead, mostly."
Which is a shame, because Reborn had actually started getting attached to some of them. The Varia. Not their uniforms.
"Oh." Tsunayoshi's head dips a little. "..Well, they're not dead here."
"I can see that." He leans to the side to look into the room Squalo had just come out of.
Tsunayoshi tugs on his sleeve and together they walk in, settling into two empty chairs. Whomever was in here before isn't anymore. Just them.
"..So, Varia." Reborn hums. "Mammon?"
"The one and only."
"How did you manage to get them to fund your little building project?"
"After everything that happened to Xanxus? Mammon was more than willing to help out. All I had to do was pay them back."
That.. does make sense. The esper would never admit it, but they've ended up with a soft spot for Xanxus after going through their own Cycles. Whatever happened here must have been big.
"But it was only recently that Mammon agreed I didn't need to make any more payments."
"Wait— Mammon gave you money for free?"
Tsunayoshi shrugs. He doesn't seem to realize just how big of a deal this is. "I'd already paid back half of it by then, but I suspect Xanxus had something to do with it."
"Why? What did Xanxus do?"
Tsunayoshi turns his head towards him just slightly. Not enough to look at him, but enough to show that he might have wanted to. He doesn't say anything, though.
"..Tsunayoshi, what happened to Xanxus?"
The door on the other end of the room opens. Hibari Kyouya stands there in a surprisingly civilian uniform. It's not police or law enforcement, and probably would look less out of place on a delinquent.
He neither says nor does anything, but makes eye-contact with Reborn, and then turns to walk off.
"What did he do?"
Reborn's not really sure what to say to that, because he technically did not do anything of note at all? "..He looked at me and then left."
"He wants us to follow, then." Tsunayoshi sighs and pushes out of his seat. "He doesn't like talking around strangers. Or at all, really."
"Nothing new there." Reborn shakes his head with a nostalgic smile and follows after the other man. "You didn't answer the question, though."
"What question?" Tsunayoshi shoots back, teasingly.
"Is something wrong with Xanxus?"
Tsunayoshi does not answer. Reborn does not ask again.
When they reach the room at the end of yet another short, wide hallway, Kyouya spins around, gestures to it with a pointed look, and then stalks off again. Weird. Didn't Tsunayoshi say he wanted to have a talk?
He walks into the room and finds out why Tsunayoshi didn't answer him. If Reborn wasn't fully awake before, he's definitely awake now.
"Reborn," Mammon says in greeting. They look the same as ever, dark and hooded. More broad-shouldered in this Cycle, slightly taller (or else Reborn is somewhat shorter), and an angle to their chin. They sound the same, though. "You took long enough."
"I've been upstairs over a month now. Don't ask me why it took this long to make it downstairs."
"You were sent to kill me," Tsunayoshi hums. "We had no way of knowing if you were just acting the part or not."
"So you were making sure I was.. actually not going to kill you? Seriously?" Reborn balks at him. "You let me sleep in same bed from day one."
"Yeah.. and three days later you admitted you weren't going to kill me. Anyone would be suspicious."
"You were not suspicious, we held hands that night."
"So I'm physically affectionate!" Tsunayoshi puts a hand over his chest as Reborn has done a dozen times by now, looking mockingly offended. "You didn't seem to mind at all."
"I have feelings, Tsunayoshi. For you. I thought we made this clear already."
"You had only known me for three days!"
"I was smitten from day one the moment I saw you pulling up weeds like you were giving someone a Handjob From Hell— not a request, by the way, just an observation. And where does that leave you then? Sharing a bed with a stranger on the first night?"
"This is cute," Mammon cuts in, shoulders shaking with what must be unvoiced laughter, "but can we please get back to trying to get Boss unfrozen?"
Reborn looks away from Tsunayoshi looking partly like he wants to grimace, and also partly wanting to keel over laughing, and turns to the elephant in the room.
Or, rather, Xanxus. Frozen, in someone's Zero-Point ice. In Tsunayoshi's basement.
"He's just frozen, right?" Reborn rubs at his chin, pretending to think about it for a moment. Then he asks, completely seriously, "Have you tried turning him off and on again?"
"I said that to Verde the first time he came down here," Mammon quips back, "and he stormed out screaming like a banshee."
Tsunayoshi lets out a groan behind them. Reborn cackles.
And then mourns, because he had kind of wanted to do that to Verde, too.
and thus begins my self-indulgent queerplatonic tsuna/everyone he can get his hands on.
i don't know that i intend to ever explain or explore any of his other relationships. the main focus (alongside the sparse plot) is this odd version of r27. they're kind of going at it in reverse.
