In which Lussuria is now Team Mom and Lambo hacks the universe
Lussuria would be the first to admit that he liked pretty things, whether they were objects or people. Admittedly, his habit of collecting such things tended to stretch past certain moral and ethical boundaries, but he was Varia. Such things were considered minor details. Nevertheless, he took almost Cloud-like pride in the people he kept around him; he was Cloud Tertiary after all. It was the Sun Primary in him though, that made him lavish everyone with endearments; no matter how annoying some found it, it was a source of morale for many.
His insistence on being referred to as 'nee-chan' or variants thereof was something of a comfort, familiar. He had found much work doing menial labour in brothels and bordellos and had many fond memories of the familial atmosphere and hierarchy. Fond enough to kill for; it was how the Varia had found him.
The point was, he liked having people to take care of and generally fuss over. Even more so when they obviously needed help. Particularly when it was kids like he had been, like Xanxus, all rough and scrappy and so very hungry for something they couldn't quite name.
The little Storm, with the Soave hair like Squa-chan's but with a different skull structure, was so endearingly rough and fierce. The two Mists...siblings, no, but the resemblance was adorable. The little Lightning though, was all kinds of cute. And also very young. Incredibly young. Now Lussuria was angry, but that could wait. Because Boss-honey was engaged in truly impressive negotiations with the little Sky who had such a peculiar resemblance to Primo. He just hoped Boss didn't strain himself; he was still recovering!
Sidling over to the little Rain, Lussuria sat down and murmured "so, dear, what's your Sky like?" He got an odd look in return. "Why all the suspicion, dear?" He asked again, as if hurt by the unspoken accusations. "Our Skies are on the brink of reaching some sort of understanding, from what I can gather, so I might as well know what sort of company I'll be keeping."
"Otouto fixes things...people," the adorable little Sun said, the taped knuckles indicating a fellow bare-handed combat artist. "He finds people who are Extremely broken and binds them up again." By now, everyone else is listening in, curiosity gnawing at them.
"Compressed," the male Mist said, after a few seconds of intense thought. "Has to be steel, can't feel, not allowed, because that leads to consequences. Can't fly because we can't go with him like this, and he refuses to leave us behind."
"We chain him to the ground," the female Mist added. "But we still fall, like moths to a candle, because our souls crave him."
"So real, more real than real life," the little Storm muttered dreamily. "Like a diamond in a world made of smoke."
The Rain didn't say anything, but instead exchanged a loaded glance with his fellow Guardians, one hand scrunching up his shirt over his heart absentmindedly.
The Cloud snorted derisively, before shrugging in baffled acquiescence. "He's mine," he said imperiously, as if it needed no other explanation.
"Tsuna-nii is the best!" Crowed the tiny Lightning. "He comes up with all sorts of cool tricks for Lambo-sama to try! Now Lambo-sama is the best at hide-and-seek!" The last statement prompted fond eye-rolling from the other Guardians, while Reborn frowned to himself.
"Come to think of it, Lambo, why have I barely noticed you these past few days?"
"What do you think the Lightning aspect of Hard means?" The little Rain shot back, addressing all of them with a smug grin.
"Strength, shielding, protection, density...what is this little cub getting at?" Belphegor rattled off.
"English lessons at school tipped us off," the Rain, Shuinsen, that was it, shot back. "In English, it doesn't just mean density, but also difficulty. Fulgurite likes to make himself Hard to see, among other things."
The implications of using Lightning Flames in such a way hit all of them like a freight train.
"Hard to see, Hard to find, Hard to hit, Hard to kill...'" Squalo babbled in his epiphany. "Dear fuck, you've got an unstoppable fighter!" He was cut off by an eel hitting him in the face with a wet slap.
"No swearing," the female Mist chirps as her not-twin beams fondly at her. Squalo unwound the eel from around his neck and threw it to the ground, where it dissipated with a puff of smoke, leaving him to rub at the streaks of slime on his face with angry grumbles.
A snicker of laughter conveyed through Wrath Flames reached them, making all whip their heads round.
Both skies were emerging from the treeline, Xanxus walking a little stiffly with his arm around the shoulders of the comparatively tiny Tsunayoshi. Immediately, Lussuria rose to his feet and walked over to take the weight and examine his Boss. Only to stiffen suddenly, Sun Flames seething across his skin, piercing gaze landing upon Tsuna. Before he could even move a muscle, Xanxus stepped between them both, staring Lussuria down with both red eyes and Wrath.
"But Boss, your scars-"
"Fixed, mostly," Xanxus rumbled. "Brat used Harmony to blend the scar-tissue into the normal skin. Eye's better as well."
Frowning to himself, Lussuria gently threaded his Flames into Xanxus' body, scanning him right down to the bone. A few things pinged against his senses and he sucked in a breath. "You are not healing anyone else, including yourself, until you've taken extensive lessons and we've done extensive testing on the healing properties of Harmony, do you understand?"
Tsuna bared his teeth into something that was almost a snarl. "I have to fix this!"
"Boss-honey, he literally reached into your DNA to use it as a template. The scarring from the Zero Point Break is mostly gone, but so are all your other scars and roughly 17% of the muscle memory and mass you used to have. You are now technically ambidextrous instead of right-handed and your alcohol tolerance is gone. He fixed you a little too much in the wrong places."
Tsuna visibly wilted, if only slightly. Xanxus' hand landed heavily on his head, Flames purring as he pulled the boy into his side. "Can't fix everything," he rumbled. "Still mad though; I like drinking."
Tsuna giggled sheepishly, a soft, hiccupping sound. "Sorry. But you're mine; I couldn't stand the scars since you didn't like them either."
"What's with the telepathy, Boss? Oh...Harmony, right? Kid, why did you say that Boss is 'yours'?"
A little ways away, Reborn overheard and groaned. "Not again...'"