A/N0: Yes, I'm back! A bit of a break, I know, but in my defense—well. It's actually a funny story the reason why I took a break. In a I-can't-believe-I'm-so-stupid sort of way. The thing starts with me leaving my laptop on my sister's house, which she needed it for stuff, and being too paranoid to actually leave it with my stories on it. That made me remember Word has some neat way of getting passwords on the documents you want so you are the only one to open… I think one can quickly guess what happened with that alone but, well. Long story short: I forgot my password. And yeah, I know what most are thinking now because I had the same thoughts towards myself and my intelligence.
Rewriting is never fun, by the way.
(That's me saying I still can't open the damn document and my only clue is me thinking "It's got to be something easy" the moment I created it)
Chapter 10
(December 12nd, 1982)
Assistant, as Verde calls him, he's learnt is just a glorifying way to say slave, as that's what Tsuna feels he is at the moment. With encyclopedias sprawled on his left and a notebook on his right, back aching from being in the same position for so long and fingers painfully tense from continued writing. There's an old computer at the back of the table, but it's not turned on and it won't be until he finishes. His phone is next to the keyboard, his own encyclopedia and dictionary apps open for him to read and compare with the books Verde gave him. His first work being to search for the words on his phone not found on the books and write the definition down in an attempt to discover differences between… well.
He only knows he's not looking forward to finish this job since he knows Verde will then ask to organize the information afterwards by typing all on the computer.
Another thing he doesn't know whether to feel glad or not is that Verde remembered that tests on bodies worked better when they were fresh. On one hand, he got his phone back and something to do that didn't include touching dead people. On the other, he's ninety percent sure Verde knows he's from the future and has already made plans for a way to milk all the information he can from him if his current job is anything to go by.
It's weird. No one has ever told him to keep it a secret; he just did it for the sake of caution and because no one would believe him. Also, he's seen enough movies to know how wrong it can go. He doesn't know if every action he takes can destroy his future timeline or if his little time-traveling trip has always meant to happen and he's just following some sort of script. Not that it matters, he's paranoid enough to not make big waves. Though most time it's easier said than done. His intuition has already led him into Vongola's clutches and half of the future Arcobaleno's. Ottavia is the only one who knows of him being from the future. With everything going on, he's a little unsure if he should continue walking on eggshells around everyone or just throw caution through the window and do everything in his power to fix things.
The latter option is appealing as saving the Arcobaleno is what he's here for, but… the future. If he prevents the curse from happening, Reborn may not be the one to end as his tutor. The Byakugan fiasco probably wouldn't happen but the same could be said for every good thing he achieved and the friends he gained.
Can he do that?
He came here because there was a chance to help his friends from being the new Arcobaleno and help the arcobaleno themselves, but Tsuna is not one to think things through. When Kawahira-san told him of a way there wasn't time to think. He was the only one capable to do it, Kawahira-san said, with the Vongola Rings connection to the past and him being a Sky… Only No-Good Tsuna could do it.
No one was happy to hear it, there were protests, bullets and chaos. Tsuna didn't care. He saw a clear option and took it. Kawahira must have seen the determination in his eyes because he opened the portal and before more could be said, Tsuna jumped.
Even with the months that have passed, he still remembers the pain he felt after going through that portal, he remembers the feeling of falling in multiple directions at the same time, everything becoming lost in a frenzy of motion and pure chaos, gut-wrenching pulls that threw all concept of gravity through the window. Then, a second later, gravity seemed to made up its mind to point in a single direction again and, as if there was a small ring the size of his finger he needed to go through, his body stretched, thin as a yarn, pulling and pulling until his bones felt like dust and his skin like goo.
His first reaction was to scream, but it came in too late. Everything was over in one next moment. The next, he simply came to the realization that he was sprawled out on his stomach with moist grass touching his cheek. Pins and needles ran across his body as he stayed in that position across the ground, just trying to breath. There was the distinctive smell of the sea close by, the sounds of boats and people going through their day to day. He couldn't understand what they were speaking about, too tired to process it, but he knew it was Japanese. He wanted to scream for help, for someone to see him through the tall grass, but his mind was sluggish and soon it didn't matter as it went dark and everything got less noisy, then totally quiet. No one was around to hear him say his first words, more of an exhalation, soft and tired. It passed a day and he still couldn't move, nor talk—no one noticed him.
He slept for days, his skin now too tight and his flames chaotic. He was hungry.
Then long fingers were running across his hair. They were gentle but he could detect some Mist flames in them, studying.
"You're not supposed to be here, are you?" the man murmured in the scratchy voice of those who talk after long with doing without it.
Where am I? he thought and as if he had heard him, the man answered, "You're in Onomichi."
"Wo—wonomichi?" he breathed out, the name familiar.
"Onomichi. In Hiroshima, Japan. Not that it matters, the important thing to know is what are you doing here?" He grabbed his hand, the one with the Vongola rings on it. "And with these?"
Tsuna tried to move his hand away, but he couldn't. His fingers twitched and no more.
"I'm not surprised you're attached. Do you know they're the only thing keeping you alive?"
He didn't know and he didn't care.
"There aren't supposed to exist two. Though it clearly chose you; I haven't seen this version in long time." He left his hand to cradle his head, still gentle. He turned it until Tsuna could see him. "Do you know me, little anomaly?"
His eyes widened. Kneeled in front of him was the man with the Iron Hat, Kawahira-san. He didn't have his glasses and was wearing that strange suit, but it was him, he knew.
"I guess you do. Now the question is what I should do with you?"
He opened his mouth, wanting explanations or to explain, he didn't know. What it came out was, "My f—friends… Curse. Arc—baleno."
"Hm. It seems you can't communicate. It's no problem, don't fret." Then the hand came again, covered in indigo flames. "I'll get all the answers from you and then decide what it must be done."
Luckily, it didn't hurt that much. Or maybe it did and he didn't notice thanks to pain still lingering after the little trip he took. Kawahira-san read his mind or something. He knew because it was obvious as he didn't ask anything from him about his reasons to be there, he didn't answer his questions, he got a bit cryptic mostly. He just took his mask off and told him how he knew a way he could live without the Vongola ring. Apparently, while the Vongola ring was keeping him alive, it was also causing him the pain. With their job already done, it didn't know what to do. It grew more confused when it felt the other Vongola rings as two can't exist for too long without the balance of Earth disrupting.
So it needed to be sealed. However, to keep his body from reality trying to implode him, he needed something else to keep him in this time. Something that was a fixed point in time.
Like the Arcobaleno curse.
So he took it away from him and sealed it. Then, seeing as his body started burning from the inside, he gave him the Sky pacifier. It cursed him for a while but it kept him alive. However, how the Sky pacifier can't be active without the others, he got a pacifier mark on his hand to tap off some of the power going through the pacifier, which was really painful.
Then Kawahira-san decided he knew enough to survive and threw him off on Palermo, Italy, saying something about needing to make some plans and how Tsuna had his own mission to accomplish that he couldn't help with.
A kid being thrown in the middle a city he barely knew the language of, with a power he couldn't yet control.
He may hold a grudge for it.
From unable to move from pain to being burned from inside to being drunk on Sky flames too powerful for his tiny body. All in two weeks. So halfway delirious with too much flames, he started his traveling across Palermo with only a handful of money in his pocket (courtesy of Kawahira-san) and a not-so-decent Italian with a Japanese accent.
It's a wonder he survived, actually. Those first days were Hell and while Kawahira-san explained some things, he didn't answer everything he worried about. At the time it didn't seem important with all the problems he had, but now that he's able to think things calmly, well… He's worried.
'Will I be able to return to the future?' is one question he constantly asks himself and couldn't voice before, followed by 'can I change the future, my future?' and 'should I?'
Before, the answers were clearer. The jars Talbot created couldn't work because the Arcobaleno weren't harmonized with Yuni. The only option available was to curse another seven people who were harmonized and then break the cure instantly. It would leave those with a baby body and the need to regrown, which wasn't too bad, but it would kill the current Arcobaleno and Tsuna couldn't let it happen. He was going to search for a cure, as Kawahira-san said only one could be found in this time, and then he would return to the future with the mystery cure and everything would be fine.
However, now that he knows Fong, Renato, Verde and Viper—things are different. Thinking of them getting cursed makes his stomach twist, especially knowing how much they will suffer from it.
Again, the question is if he can do that. If he can turn off his heart and just throw them knowingly to the wolves.
(He doesn't think he can. And that scares him)
"What am I doing?" he whispers to himself, looking down at the purple pen between his fingers. He stares it for a long while, barely blinking. It's not until he hears a loud thud coming from downstairs that he decides to stand up. With the way his thoughts are going, he probably needs to move around, get some fresh air.
A look to his phone lets him know it's late. Really late. And he hasn't even eaten dinner.
He should go his apartment, with its familiar walls and familiar bed, a bit too cold at the moment but still his.
With a sudden energy that even surprises him, he closes the notebook and organizes the books he's been working with. Soon enough he's going downstairs, admiring the clean white walls and its simple decoration as he tries to come up with the words he's going to use when he tells Verde he needs to leave. A lengthy explanation with questions about his new work and when he has to come back is what he should do, but the short 'It's late. See you tomorrow' is tempting.
His tiredness takes the decision from him so questions will have to wait for tomorrow afternoon. He has his day job to think, too.
He reaches the room all the noise is coming from quicker than he wishes. Verde is still working in the same spot he left him, pressing buttons on something reassembling an old computer with his right hand while he writes on a notebook with his left at the same time. He barely glances up at him but that action is enough to let Tsuna know he now has part of his attention. It's a not a memorable action but it's still one that reminds him the one in front of him will be an Arcobaleno, one of the strongest Seven.
And one of the people he, No-Good Tsuna, has to doom. Or safe.
Why do you give me your back? Can't you see I am not someone to trust? Can you see how I've your destiny in my hands?
His grip tightens once. The conversation he planned on his way here is gone. He wants to stay and help him more. Do more for the guilt to ease into nothing.
"Have you eaten something?" The annoyed look he gets tells him what he thinks about wasting time in that way with stupid questions. "Then I'll make something for the both of us. We can eat and maybe get some sleep and—Eh, what with that face? You do sleep, right?"
Verde sighs and stops writing on the notebook. "I do. I can last another sixteen hours without it, however."
"What? How long do you stay awake then?"
"Thirty six hours straight without side-effects," he says with pride.
"That's—That's not healthy, at all!"
"I know my limits, assistant." He throws him a dubious look. "I'm not unreasonable, though. You can use the guest room upstairs and sleep. I'll require you to assist me with the cleaning of the leftovers of my current experiment. Then you'll continue your current job."
"Okay, I'll do it, but…" He swallows but doesn't back off. "But I've a job on the mornings until noon. It's on a Hotel, cleaning."
Verde taps his fingers impatiently. "Which Hotel?"
"Um. Il David?"
He really doesn't like the way Verde perks up. It fills him with dread.
"You know it?" he says, though it's not a question.
"The one on Garibaldi?"
"… Yes."
"Perfect!" Tsuna almost jumps when he claps his hands, but he holds it. "I'll need a list with the name of all the—"
"Yeah, I don't think I can do that." A look shuts him up, reminding him of all Verde's capable of. "On the other hand, I never tried, so."
"Good." He points to a box near his feet full of weird implements and a thin pile of papers, all with handwritten notes done in a scratchy scrawl that makes it difficult to read. "But first take this to the office upstairs and bring a black plastic bag from the kitchen. It's inside the red cupboard to your right. I'm done with the body."
Tsuna nods, leaning down to grab the box before he even finishes speaking. He's already up and turning when what he says catches with him. He stops and gives the body he's been pointedly ignoring a nervous look.
"You're done with the body? Will I be the one to, um, deal with it?"
"You only need to take it to the front door. The police will be coming in the morning to take it."
It doesn't make him feel any better to know the police is somehow involved with… whatever this is and approves, apparently. He glances down to the notes inside the box, trying to understand their meaning.
"I know I didn't ask before but… what is exactly what you needed the body for?"
"It's not as if you would understand." Glad his lack of intelligence is something they early agreed on. "Though taking in consideration your circumstances… Does Dying Will flames mean something to you?"
He doesn't visibly start, though he may as well done it with the way Verde smiles at him. Creepy intense eyes look at him with glee.
"You do? Is it a common thing in—No, wait. It can't be. The mafia has known about it for long enough to simply reveal it unless something drastic has happened in the future or you are from a further time than I thought."
"Future? I'm not—I mean, I don't know what you're talking about." Verde raises an unimpressed eyebrow. He would have freaked out more if it hadn't been him the one with the great idea of showing a clearly advanced phone to a genius. He sighs. "It's not common. I'm… Well, I learned about it because this hitman—"
"You're mafia then."
"I'm not! I just can't seem to escape from it and my life keeps getting involved with—" Verde ignores his weak protests to grab the sides of his head and tilt it until he can see him better in the light. He tilts it again before letting him go to grab a weird looking machine from the table next to him.
Tsuna understandably takes a step back, his eyes flickering to the dead body. "What are you doing?"
"I want to check your temperature."
"That doesn't look like a thermometer. At all."
"Of course it doesn't," he says, not giving more explanation as he takes a step forward. "This tip will go to your ear and—"
"Wasn't that inside a dead body? Is it safe?" Verde lowers the thing, a thoughtful expression in his face. Tsuna grabs that small sign of hesitation with both hands, like a starved man, and quickly starts talking. "I—I could explain you all I know about them. The mafia has kept his secrets well-guarded so I'm sure you need me alive. I can help you. Just… take your weird devices away from me."
Verde's clearly getting irritated, but at least he hasn't moved closer and is clearly considering his words. "I wouldn't kill you."
Tsuna doesn't really believe him. He won't antagonize him further though. "Um. If you don't mind me asking, how do you even know about it? Are—Are you part of the mafia?"
He doesn't think because the supposed involvement of the police, but… Is he?
"Who knows? Now tell me, what flame do you possess?"
It's with great uncertainty that Tsuna lifts up a hand and makes a tiny orange flame appear. It flicks constantly as if there was wind blowing near, but he's not surprised by the syrup-like quality his flames seem to have obtained. He's taken the arcobaleno cursed form for a while, after all.
"I've never encountered this color," Verde mutters, eyes once again alight with something unholy. "I've theorized one stabilizing flame was needed as it would also explain the way most famiglie are formed with certain individuals at their epicenter." He leaves the weird thermometer on the table to move both hands up, lighting them up with green flames as they approach his own. He blinks in surprise but doesn't move away as he studies the reaction between flames. It feels oddly intimate, but thankfully not in the way Harmonization feels. It's a little more as if they were merely standing naked, inches apart.
Awkward but bearable.
It still makes him unable to look at him without blushing.
He almost sags in relief when Verde steps away, a large grin on his face. It would have make him look younger, if not for the deep bags under his eyes and the scruffy beard across his cheeks.
"I think you'll be awake a little longer today."
Tsuna doesn't sigh. He's not that surprised.
"Can we eat something first?" he asks, his eyes moving to the clock hanging on the wall, happily informing him that his shift starts in six hours.
- x -
(December 14th, 1982 – early morning)
The morning is slow and tiring. Or maybe that's just him. His work in the hotel has always been repetitive and a bit dull but he never really understood how boring it was until he only had three hours of sleep in his system. The beds of the rooms he cleaned look each more inviting with the passing of time. And while he really wants his shift to be over, he dreads it at the same time as he has to go back to the bar to clear things up with Giorgio-san.
He kind of ran away the day before.
He instinctively does things slower, not that it changes anything. The hours don't get longer and soon enough, like a weird dream, he's standing in front of familiar doors. He takes a peek in and… everything is the same. He doesn't know why he expected it to change after a day, but he had. Should he feel disappointed or not?
It doesn't matter.
With a deep breath, he walks in, unsurprised at how physically painful is to return. His throat is tight again, his eyes burn and he can't help it. Not when the aroma of the coffee is strong in the air, mixed with the faint smoke of cigarettes. The tables are on the same position he used to help set and the bottles of alcohol, organized by color on the wall, give that cheerful vibe. The room is homely warm, a perfect contrast of the chilly outside.
It's nice and nostalgic.
"A coffee, please," he says without a tremor in his voice.
Chiara looks up so fast from the cup she's cleaning, his own neck hurts in sympathy. "Natsu? I thought…" She lowers the cup down and gives her a serious look as she lowers her tone to whisper, "Are you okay? I heard what happened yesterday."
He shrugs, it's a pathetic little thing. "I knew it could happen any time, especially with how things were going. I wasn't that surprised, really."
"That's not what I asked, silly." She reaches his shoulder from across the desk to give him a gentle squeeze. "Are you okay?"
He looks down, not answering. And that's perhaps enough to tell how things really are going. The desk's wood is a rich brown against his fingers, old but still shiny. He hears her sigh, the sound weirdly loud amongst the conversation going on around them.
"I'll be fine," he says and knows it's true even if currently doesn't feel like it.
"I know you'll be, Natsu." She taps her fingers once on the table, a nervous habit of hers. "The boss said you can still get your stuff to his garage. He left a key in case you need it done quickly, but you know Antonio's free dray is tomorrow and he has a car. I'm sure he'll love to help you out."
"I'll talk to him then. Is he here?" She nods. "Okay. I don't have much so it'll probably take one trip."
"That's the attitude! Oh, and before I forget." She leans closer into his space, her voice lowering. "The boss isnt here right now but he left your last pay… You kind of ran off before he got to give it to you."
Tsuna lets his forehead fall against the table. It's harder to do than it had been a year ago thanks to his last grown spurt. "Ugh. I'm so embarrassed."
"Don't be. We all get it, don't worry." She only lets him dwell on his own misery for the five seconds it takes her to put the small envelope with his money next to the table. She then puts another one, bigger and fuller. He blinks blankly at it before directing his questioning gaze to Chiara. "This came to us on the mail. Your name is on a corner so we didn't open it."
"Oh." He stands straight and inspects it. He only has to turn it around to know who send it.
"Yeah, the 'from Mona' was a big giveaway, too. Weird she didn't write her last name."
Tsuna doesn't think Viper is this fast at answering a call, so it must be something she send before he called. He wants to open it but is wise enough not to do it.
"Thanks, Chiara." He looks up at her as he puts both envelopes inside his trusty bag, a thoughtful frown on his face. "Can I use the phone?"
"Sure." She nods to the door that leads to the little breakroom they have, a small space where they change and eat, barely large enough for two people to fit. He gives her a last wave but a person approaches the counter so he's not sure if she sees him.
Asking Verde for a day off when he's been working for him less than a week is not something he wants to attempt. Is not fear what he feels towards him, it's merely healthy caution. The Verde he just met is an aloof kind of person, like his future self was. However, unlike his cursed self, this one doesn't have that tint of madness, that feeling of 'I will do anything in the name of science' that terrified him. This Verde—he has some trouble calling him Dimtr—is a less jaded person. He has little morals, yes, but that doesn't mean he doesn't follow a code.
That still doesn't mean he will ask him for a day off. Besides, he doesn't have his number. So with little time to work with, he calls the hotel and explains his problem to his boss, who is understanding if not a little too busy to hear it all. He obtains his morning off but has no time to celebrate as he needs to go to the back and ask Antonio-san if they can meet tomorrow. Luckily, he accepts.
- x –
When he goes to Verde's house, he's a little late though the other doesn't seem to have noticed. He asks more questions about flames, writing all he says on a little notebook. Tsuna is not an expert but his lack of knowledge doesn't seem to turn Verde off. He's interested in the rings he mentioned that can be used as conduits and the role a Sky flame has with other flames.
That takes them about two hours with all and the demonstrations he does for him. He's promised to not use him in weird experiments but that doesn't mean there will not be experiments at all.
(At least nothing weird is used on him)
He then returns to his previous work with the dictionaries and encyclopedias. It's tedious and boring so it isn't surprising he falls asleep again in the middle of it. It's not that late when he wakes up so he cooks something quick. There's not much left in the refrigerator but sandwiches always fill up a hungry stomach. He leaves them on a plate, on top of the table with less papers on it.
He hopes Verde eats it. He's really thin.
"If these are still here for when I come back, I'll not let you do any more experiments on my flames for at least a week!"
He receives a grumble in response but he thinks it's enough.
With a nod and a quick 'see you later', he's goes to buy grocery.
Something tells him today he's also going to sleep mid-work and sleep here in the end. At least Verde doesn't seem annoyed by this and he can't help but think if he can make it work for the week he needs until he receives the new apartment.
He's officially homeless, after all.
- x –
(December 15th, 1982 – early morning)
It's not until he's finishing packing half of his things that he remembers the envelope Chiara gave him. Both envelopes are still on his bag, which he carries always with him so with a quick look to make sure they're there he open the shotgun door and seats.
Antonio turns on the car and barely gives him a glance when he sees him searching in his bag.
"Is that a cellphone I see? Nice, kid."
"Uhm? Oh, yeah. I'm working with a friend and he gave it to me to call him and stuff."
"… That's quite a friend."
Tsuna scratches a cheek while taking the envelope. "Yeah, I know."
While Antonio-san knows Mona, he still thinks of her as that poor girl with the sob story and not the cunning Mist they are.
He opens the envelope.
"Are those newspapers of the stock market?"
Looking through the multiple newspaper of different countries he can't help but agree.
Deep inside there is a time and day he can call Mona, followed by a number.
"Let's just go and put all of the stuff in the box."
"You're the boss, kid. Though I would like to take a look at those papers some time."
Right, Antonio-san is into the stock market, too.
"Sure. You can read it while I putt all the stuff in place."
Antonio-san raises an eyebrow. "What are you talking, kid? I'll help you with this."
"I'm stronger than I look, Antonio-san."
"Don't care. I'll help you out. I also want to see the box that they gave you. How big it is and if it'll fit all. You're lucky that the raining season is over now because your stuff could have gotten wet."
"It's not big but from what I've seen it can fit all my stuff. Not that I've a lot," he murmurs the last, remembering most of the stuff on his apartment is from the old lady who lived there. They would have to contract someone to throw the stuff away anyways, so they told him he could keep the stuff if he wanted. Which came as a blessing.
"Yeah, true. Call me when you can start fixing the apartment and I'll help you with the moving."
"Thanks, Antonio-san. Though the biggest thing is the table and Zaid already told me he would help me out."
"Doesn't matter, kid. At least I can help you move the things from the box to your apartment."
That makes him smile. It's good to know he has gained friend even with how bad all seemed at the beginning.
(December 17th – Friday)
This year has been a constant reminder of why Renato doesn't like to work using Mafia Land's network. He'll always appreciate the 'Hitman's Hall' as it was the place where he received his first contracts when he was nothing more than a no-name hitman with only the security blanket that it is Mafia Land's neutrality to fall back.
Still. Sometimes he can't help but hate Mafia Land's lacking information requirement. That added with their policy of accepting all contracts can makes things troublesome really fast. He's one to easily concede that he likes Mafia bars as the gossip is always quick to get. However, trying to use it as his only source to get some specific information is a completely different thing. He'd use his own contacts, but he wants to keep a low profile now with the Second Mafia War going on. After all, a powerful freelance like him can't be seen favoring one side over the other.
He has enough attempts to his life as it is. And they lost their appeal after their fifteen try. Now, they're just plain annoying.
But what can he do but play detective? He's already accepted the contracts. And while he admits in the confines of his mind, he shouldn't have just given a city's name and a difficulty of above medium as his only prerequisites, he's not above of taking his annoyance on whoever looking at him the wrong way.
He also kind of regrets choosing Spain without having taking the political underworld background into account, even if he needed to be there because the chance of him meeting an important source of information about Ozora's abilities. Adding the fact that since Italy won the World's Cup many people are more than a little sore with Italians, a hit and a kneecapping with a chance to annoy soccer fans sounded like a vacation at the time.
However, the supposedly difficult hit, which consisted in killing an old man so his son could succeed him, was only a bit tricky and that's mostly because he had to enter a secured place filled to the brim with guards and make it look like an accident. A disappointment, really. Not really that hard to accomplish if one knows how to plan and is stealthy enough, something he excels at.
The kneecapping with a medium level of difficulty ended with him running away from an explosion and his mark with first degree burns. All because the document with the details forgot to mention his target was a paranoid Sun flame user bastard and had had three different people on his tail already attempting to intimidate him.
He would have liked very much to kill the moron but he was required to leave him alive. Alas, not all dreams can become true. He had to settle for activating the cellular death until both of his legs were suffering from necrosis. It didn't lift his mood and the temptation to grab the orb Ozora gave him, which is still inside his suitcase and has not been touched since he's put it there, has only grown, especially after a week and a half surrounded by incompetence. But this is supposed to be a time away from the little Sky and he's determined to complete it.
He's actually kind of relieved he doesn't have any of the withdrawal symptoms he thought he would suffer of. Even if he sometimes does find himself staring blankly into space, doing nothing more than enjoying the calmness in his flames. He begrudgingly admits missing Ozora's presence, , which is strange if one considers not even three months back he couldn't stand more than two hours at his side.
However, he has firsthand experience in trying to be forced into harmonization by other Skies (The downsides of being known as a Strong Sun), so he knows the little Sky hasn't been doing that. Also, he's heard of many instances in which Skies and Elements simply hit it off right away and, instead of taking them the usual years, they harmonize a couple weeks after they meet—The Mist Guardian of the Vongola heir, a thirteen years old boy, is a clear example of the later.
… And he really doesn't like where his thoughts are going and what they speak of his future.
With an irritated sigh, he stands up and grabs his jacket and fedora from the perch next to the door.
At least the bars in Spain have a good stock. After the week he's had, he really needs a drink.
Not even a glass later, he's cursing Mafia Land's informants.
Apparently, the son of the old man he was send to kill had also another hitman behind him. It was a messy death from what he's hearing, most likely their own famiglia was behind it and wanted to blame it all on the feud he had with a rival famiglia or some idiotic excuse like that. The thing is, having both of them dead has changed the status quo too abruptly for any decent Spanish Mafioso to deal with it in an efficient manner.
He loves mind games, but god does he hate politics. Even if he's more than capable to deal with them and they do offer a great amount of amusement when he's the one pulling the strings.
Nonetheless, he hates incompetency the most if there's no way for him to shape the idiots in place. Or just shoot them.
"You look like you're going to shot someone any second now."
"Dear Mafer," Renato starts, letting his lips curl into a pleasant smile as he tilts his head to the side. "I couldn't leave without having said hi now, could I?"
"Charming as always, um?"
"Of course." He motions the seat next to him. "Mind joining me or do you've another meeting?"
He receives a rolls of eyes, but there's an amused smile on her red lips as she sits.
"I'm done for the moment," she says, throwing a glance over her shoulder where three men and a woman are already leaving the building, making the feathers attached to her long hair bounce with the movement.
"Your bodyguard?"
"Saying bye to a friend." She throws him a mock glare. "And don't call her that. She's just a bit protective."
"A bit?" he says, motioning the bartender to bring another glass, which is quick to come. "She kept shocking me the last time we were together."
"And she really doesn't like you."
"I wonder why."
"Really? I clearly remember you throwing my panties at her face that first time."
"An honest accident. That's what she gets from going inside a room without knocking."
That particular comments gets him a nice laugh with her head thrown back, her dark hair exposing a perfect lean neck. Renato can't help but lean closer and tangle a finger to peculiar strand out of place. Her eyes glint in amusement as she sips her glass, but for some reason Renato feels certain unease instead of the usual lustful playfulness. He ignores it.
"I must be really lucky to find you here. You usually prefer staying in the middle of Europe."
"I could say the same about you, you know."
"Well, Spain is becoming something of a tourist point for us, Italians."
"For the ones who are into soccer, sure. But I don't peg you as someone's into tame sports or visiting a country just because a sport."
"And miss the chance to make others angry just by realizing my nationality?"
She smirks. "That explains why I can hear your accent, then. I was wondering."
Renato answers with one smirk of his own before refilling his glass. "I'm done with a job, actually. I'll be here for a couple days more. The annoying others was part of the reason I'm here, after all."
"That does sound like the Reborn I know." She twirls her glass, her Sky flames testing the drink for any poisons, before taking a sip. "I just got a bit nostalgic myself and needed to hear Spanish for a while. Their accent might be a little funny, but Spain is still the closest I can get."
"Does that mean you'll be busy reminiscing?"
"I'm always busy," she says, the fingers of her free hand trailing the side of his jaw. "Doesn't mean I'll opposed to have some fun, you know that."
Flame touching is nothing uncommon among flame users. Usually used in sex, with people one's intimate with, or when trying to flame court another. He's used to receive it and has used it himself in others many times. Mafer is simply one of his frequent bedpartners he enjoys this exchanges more thanks to her Sky nature.
However, when the tip of her finger reaches his chin and she lets out a small flame pulse, Renato can't help but jerk back, the playful tone of their conversation dissipating in a second. He can see his eyes tinted yellow in the reflection of her brown gaze and that surprises more than anything else.
He's still quick to pull out his gun and aim it to the side where the thin sword stops, the lips of the woman holding it curled into a faint snarl.
"Everything's fine, Kyra. It was just an accident."
Knowing it was his fault for react so violently, he's the one lowering his weapon first. None of them is foolish to think he's lowered his guard, but the gesture seems to be enough for Kyra to turn back her Urumi into its flexible form and stand back.
"My apologies, Mafer." He nods at her Lightning's direction. "Kyra."
"No, no. It's okay."
"Is not okay," her Lighting murmurs, throwing him a dirty look. She presses her palm on Mafer's shoulder in reassurance lightly before going to where he can see her Sun, a cheerful blind man whose passive-aggressiveness surpasses Fong's, is hovering nearby. Mafer waves at them both before looking back at him.
"Okay, she's kind of right. I should have known you were trying to Harmonize with a Sky, but you should have mentioned it first, too."
Instead of denying it and shooting something as he wants to do, he maintains his posture loose and relaxed, not showing any sign of discomfort or surprise. "I didn't know other Skies could detect it at this level. I haven't harmonized yet."
She seems amused at his blatant fishing, but doesn't seem aware he didn't know there was a connection in the first place so it's his win.
"I admit is not noticeable, but your flames are calmer than a normal person would be. Not like a Guardian's, but there's still a difference in comparison of others. They're starting to follow a certain… frequency."
A prickling sensation forms on the back of his neck as he slowly nods. "Your flames are set in another one. That's why when they touched mine I reacted so badly. Interesting."
"Don't worry it'll only happen with other Skies. When you're fully bonded it shouldn't be a problem anymore." She lets out a soft sigh and finishes the last bit of her glass. "That means no fun for us."
That is a pity. He still has two more days before he has to take his plane though, and finding someone to get laid has never been a problem, so it doesn't really bother him.
He tips his fedora up a notch. "Enjoying your company is enough fun for me, cara. I'm saddened you don't think the same though."
"You make it sound as if I only want you for your body." At his teasing grin, she laughs. "Okay, then. I've got an hour before I need to go to a meeting so let's catch up?"
"I'd love to. Shall we move to a more quiet location first?"
She gives him a smile before looking back to where Kyra is sitting a couple seats away and making some signs with her hands. Is not one he knows of, but he can guess what's been said thanks to the glare he receives by one angry Lighting. At least her Sun, one man he doesn't know the name of, seems totally okay with spending some more time in a bar.
"Such a charmer," he murmurs, but stands up when Mafer does it. Lightly pressing a hand to her lower back, he guides her to where the private boots are.
"She's nice and fun to be around. You're the only one she acts like that."
"Should I feel special then?"
"Don't try to change the subject, Reborn," she says with a mock glare when they reach a secluded corner of the bar. Just to be careful he sends a faint flame-pulse to check for any recording devices in the furniture. "I know you're not going to give any personal information, but I hope you can at least tell me how did you meet her?"
"Ho? So secure my Sky is a woman, aren't we?"
"Is not?" she says, looking more than a little surprised. He'd have snarked back if not for the sudden blankness filling her expression. Her eyes gain an orange tint, not as bright as Ozora's but they still stand up in a pretty way thanks to her dark skin.
Slowly shaking her head from side to side, as if looking at something no one else can see, she frowns in the same way she did when they met for the first time. His gaze briefly shifts to the hand holding the empty glass where a ring rests on her middle finger, the orange jewel between small metal wings also glinting.
Well, he was thinking in slowly approaching the subject of that power of hers to compare it with Ozora's, but if he gets such an easy opening, who is he to not take it?
A couple short seconds later, Mafer is left blinking, her dark brown eyes returning. She shakes her head, but this time the gesture seems more in an attempt to clear her head than something supernatural. Lifting a hand to call a waiter, she gives him a sharp apologetic smile with a more than interested edge in it.
Such a shame they won't get laid today.
Oh well. Let's see what he can obtain in an hour without falling into her games.
It's close to twelve thirty by the time he returns to his hotel room. Earlier than he prefers, but even if he's able to maintain a perfect unruffled expression in front of others, he knows that flame touch affected more that he'd have liked. Not in a detrimental way, thankfully. There's just an itch he feels but can't quite scratch, leaving him irritated and a bit restless.
It takes him a moment too long to realize that it's a familiar feeling. Mafer's said it, hasn't she? His flames are less agitated thanks to Ozora's.
Well, were less agitated.
And damn, he's become spoiled if this is seriously frustrating him.
With a sigh, he digs his cellphone out next to the pouch where the orb Ozora's gave him is. He leaves them on the table and goes to the bathroom for a nice, long shower.
His watch tells him is already past one when he comes out, feeling refreshed. He doesn't really care if he annoys others, especially when he's a bit annoyed himself, so he doesn't think much when he calls Ozora. Actually, picturing him waking up from the noise and fumbling about in the search of the phone brings a smile to his face.
Is not a nice smile.
It takes Ozora a while to answer. He first says something in Japanese and stops, realizes what's he said, and fumbles once again for the right Italian word. His "Pronto?" comes next, unsure and tired but more awake than he expected.
"Aren't you supposed to be sleeping now, brat?"
"Oh. Renato! Hi, how are you? Everything's fine? No problems, right?"
The honest eagerness in his voice settles something inside him, makes breathing easier. He closes his eyes as he realizes Renato's missed him more than he's thought. Probably not more than drinking his espresso, though.
"Is that doubt I'm hearing? I'm the best, remember that."
Ozora huffs, whispering, "I'm surprised no one spotted you thanks to your big ego and shot you."
"What's that?"
"Nothing! I'm glad you're fine, really. I—I was a bit worried. You didn't call or leave a number, so, uh…"
"I'm fine," he says, and perhaps it comes out gentler than he intended, but hearing the little Sky's relieved sigh makes up for it. A little. He'll probably shot Ozora for doubting him when he sees him next. He actually opens his mouth to say that, but a loud thud coming from Ozora's side of the phone stops him.
"What the—Oh kami. Is that another body?! You promised to stop!"
"For the RMI, yes. This is for testing," a gruff male voice answers.
"What do you need it to test?! It's dead!"
"I'm not denying the range of answers I'll obtain will be lesser than if it were alive—"
"You're not bringing an alive person!"
"—but you don't want me to make tests on you, so."
"How is this my fault?!" Ozora yells in that tone of voice that's part aggravated and part resigned he uses with people he's friendly with. Renato is not reassured by it. It actually annoys him further.
"Ozora," he grits out, but the other seems to be distracted now that the noise is back. He recognizes it as the one of someone dragging a dead or unconscious body through the floor.
"You should finish with those papers if you're not going to help me," the unnamed man rasps out, out of breath.
Ozora groans. "You know what? You'll be fine. I'm going back to bed, now. See you tomorrow."
"It's past one of the morning. I'll be seeing you in the afternoon—" There's another exasperated groan coming from Ozora "—leave the Rain archives on my desk first, though."
"Yeah, yeah."
"Ozora," he barks, darkly pleased at the pained yelp he hears.
"Ow. Uh? Oh, Renato, I'm sorry I kind of ignored you. It wasn't my—I mean, I didn't—please don't shoot me."
He doesn't promise anything.
"I left you for only a week and half. In what trouble have you gotten into?"
"It wasn't my fault! I just got kind of… fired."
"Kind of?"
"Well, the police's grown too curious and has been searching around for I don't know what. I'm a minor without a legal guardian or any document aside from passport a false residency card. So yeah, kind of fired. Giorgio-san told me I could go back when the police is not as fidgety. The hotel is kind of shady so I don't think they'll fire me there."
He shots the lamp closest to him. It leaves the room darker, but he doesn't stand up to turn on another. He's angry with himself. He shouldn't have shot those men close to one of Ozora's jobs. The civilians may want to put behind the previous decade and ignore the 'terrorism' that had been going on with such eagerness, but he's not as naïve to not known the government is still jumpy.
The second Mafia War may be at its end, but that only means people are getting desperate, reckless. It makes things worse for the ones dealing with the casualties.
He should have guessed.
"Renato?" With a hand rubbing half of his face, he sighs. "It's okay, you know? I'll be gaining some money thanks to Mona-san so there'll no problem with the new apartment's rent. And I've got another job so I'm not going to be bored anytime soon."
'I should be the one reassuring you,' he wants to say. Instead, he concentrates in his respiration for two complete seconds. "Where are you?"
"My new job. The guy you heard? He's my employer, a scientist. A messy one, so I'm working as some sort of assistant? Secretary? Something like that."
"That's not what I meant. Where are you? It's late."
There's a short silence before Ozora says way too cheerful, "Can't, sorry. My contract says I can't give any detailed information about my work or the person I'm working for."
"And that hasn't made you suspicious?" he grits out.
"A lil bit, but don't worry, everything's fine. And I'm staying here, so I won't be going out late."
He pinches the bridge of his nose. "What."
"Well, I stopped renovating my rent and I can't move out yet, so I'll be kind of homeless for three more days."
"And you didn't mentioned this before, because?"
"I—I calculated wrong. I thought it was only going to be a day instead of a week."
"I'm so going to drill math into your head, brat."
"Hiee! No, no. It's alright. Besides, because of me, scientist-san is more into flames and he tends to forget to sleep and eat when he's too into a theory, so I'm making sure he doesn't die while here."
Fuck, Ozora will end giving him gray hairs if he ends as his Sky.
"Flames?"
"Oh, damn. Okay, if anyone asks, I haven't told you anything. But I had told you something then it'd be how it isn't my fault and he was into it way before we met."
"You seriously need a minder."
"I do not." A pause. "Besides, I don't think it'd help any."
He looks at the pouch on top of the table and stands up to grab the orb inside it. It's still as warm as the day Ozora gave it to him, settling what's left of the itch that appeared because of Mafer's flames. Closing his hand, he presses the too tight fist against his forehead, and concentrates in the comforting feeling it gives.
People call him the Greatest Hitman; they fear him and respect him in equal measure because of his skills and intelligence. He's has money, reputation, and is fairly young for the success he's gained. It's true that it'll probably take a long time before another Sky strong enough to pull him comes with the same compatibility he has with Ozora, but he can wait. He really doesn't need a Sky at the moment. Ozora can be like what Mafer is to him, someone that will help his flames settle down. He knows the brat would understand.
"Renato?"
But he can't deny some part of him really wants this frail, non-mafia attached brat to be his Sky.
He's gotten attached, damn it.
"I'll only say this once so listen carefully," he says in an even tone. As he waits for the little Sky to make a noise of agreement, he moves his fist away from his forehead and lights it in Sun flames. "I'm going to give you a direction, you'll retrieve a key from there. Then you're going to go to my apartment and stay there until I go back."
"Oh… You don't mind?"
"I'm offering, aren't I?"
"Right. Um, thanks, Renato."
"Do you have something to write on?"
"Always," he says, resigned.
Opening his hand, he recites both directions, watching idly the now yellow orb as he talks. The faint orange tint is gone but instead of his flames erasing the feeling Ozora's flames gave it, it turns into something similar to the indigo one. Still warm, but now alive.
At least, he's sure being Ozora's Element won't ever be boring.
"Hey, brat," he says when he's sure Ozora's finished writing. "This is me stating a claim, so don't go off searching for another Sun."
The sound of Ozora choking on thin air is music to his ears.
"Now go to sleep, little Sky. Dream of all the bullet holes your new apartment will have."
He cuts the line with a smile and places the yellow orb in the inside of his pajama's pocket before looking to the side, where a chameleon is resting on one of the room's plants.
"Did you hear that?" he says, scratching the underside of his chin. "I'll be introducing you someone important soon, Leon."
A/N1: You may be wondering why the last part was included if I posted it before in the interlude, right? Well, there were a couple who were confused by the timeline and I decided to modify the interlude and add the end to this chapter so it would be less confusing.
A/N2: Thanks for all the comments! They were the only thing keeping me writing. I don't know what I'd have done without them :D!
A/N3: I accept all suggestions about renato's apartment. How do you think it'd look? what colour would the wall will be? get descriptive here
