(and maybe) we are

by esquitor

Sawada Tsunayoshi finds himself pulled into the Underworld as a part of someone else's Inheritance Plots and Plans, and decides he's… well. Sorta okay with it. He's okay with a lot of things. Aaaaabsolutely dandy about it... Doesn't mean he's going to make it easy for them, though. Ensemble cast, multiculturalism, worldbuilding and flame lore. Isn't It Beautiful?-verse. [MAINFIC]

11. Chapter 11 :: OYSTER FORTUNES DAILY

Summary: the one in which sawada tsunayoshi (almost) dies. again.
(and again.)
(and again.)

Notes: before you start reading please be aware that this chapter is like, 17k words long. in case you hate having to step away in the middle. just so you know.

i remembered i had a bunch of Obscure Sorrows saved for using as themes and shit so here we go. using them as themes, and shit like that. there's two in this chapter actually! but only one is defined explicitly for now. the other one is hinted at.

rubatosis: n. the unsettling awareness of your own heartbeat, whose tenuous muscular throbbing feels less like a metronome than a nervous ditty your heart is tapping to itself, the kind that people compulsively hum or sing while walking in complete darkness, as if to casually remind the outside world, I'm here, I'm here, I'm here.

WARNINGS: Misleading Roof Scene(s). you know the one. vague suicidal implications. violence! actual violence. Fight Scenes. Fight Fight Fight. tsuna's thought processes are probably not healthy, don't do what he does unless you too have magical dying will flame-type powers. mild blood warning.

forward note on the rigged kendo matches in this chapter (yeah we finally get to them): i did a tiny bit (read: a lot) of looking into kendo gear and figured it'd be pretty hard to make it extra heavy considering it's mostly made of padded cloth, leather, and bamboo honestly, not to mention stuffing them with like iron or sand instead of cloth would do the exact opposite of what i wanted to happen. so i have an alternative sort of sabotage. heavier shinai sticks do actually exist, though! but so far i've only seen listings for like, 1.8 kg at the heaviest, which comes out to about 4 lbs, probably shaped out of hardwood instead of bamboo. nothing like the 'requires two middle-schoolers to lift' variety in canon. they're meant for strengthening arms and not to be used in actual practice matches. standard shinai seem to be .45 kg / 1 lb at the most, for comparison. if you knew someone who makes shinai though you could probably feasibly get them to make one weighted down even heavier...

---

Chapter 11: [oyster fortunes daily] live. love. learn.

things you wish you could do, if you ever had the chance to wish.

---

"Where is that damn- brat, how the hell did he even get up these stairs?"

"Stop calling Tsuna a brat, senpai, we're practically the same age."

"You're a brat too."

"I meant you and Tsuna."

"I'm one year older. That means more mature, more experienced, more responsible, and more common sense than to go to the roof in a wheelchair!"

"That's Tsuna for you! Nothing stops him." Yamamoto laughs. The damn idiot laughs. "Well, except himself. But he's been getting better! I mean, just in the last few weeks he's gotten into at least three fights, he's bowling people over, and now he climbed stairs somehow in a wheelchair—"

"That's not stuff to be proud of! ..Okay, maybe a little proud, but- no! He can't just- just— ugh."

"Can't what?" Yamamoto looks at him from the top of the steps. Athletes, sheesh. Oh, wait, Kensuke is one too. What the hell is up with Yamamoto then? "Can't change? Can't get better? Can't be anything more than a loser?"

Kensuke stops, leaning against the railway and trying to catch his breath. It's only 3 stories worth of stairs. Feels like an eternity.

"Tsuna told me what you said at the docks." He stills, staring intently at Yamamoto's sneakers. That's a breach of uniform code. "..And I think you're right."

He looks up. Yamamoto has his head turned towards the top of the steps.

"But.. I don't think Tsuna knows how to be anything other than a Sky. He's been a Sky all his life. Except when he, y'know, wasn't. For a few years. But still was. He's always going to be a Sky and he's not going to be anything else. If you have a problem with Skies, senpai—"

"I don't. Not with Skies. It's just—"

Sawada reminds him too much of himself, when he was... a lot younger. A lot more gullible. A lot more willing to brush himself off with it can't be helped, I'm a Storm, of course I'll be angry a lot. A lot more willing to use it as an excuse, when others found him abrasive and off-putting.Because I'm a Storm.

But Kensuke grew out of it. Lan helped. Supported him with a steadfastness that only a Lightning could provide, while he gave her the temper to face her own problems.

Sawada?

Sawada says I'm a Sky like a mantra. Chants it like a sutra, like it would grant him salvation. Like it would grant others salvation. Wears it like a fucking mantle.

I'm a Sky. I'm a Sky.

Maybe this is why all the Sawadas live down south, away from everyone else. Anyone who thinks of themselves the way he does is probably better off staying together. Less chance of them dying for some random person or whatever.

It's such bullshit.

...Yamamoto hasn't said anything for a while. Kensuke raises his head again and- woah. Uh.

"You're, uh-" Kensuke gestures. Tries not to point directly at him but it's kind of hard not to when he's- "-glowing. You're glowing? Hey, Yamamoto?"

Yamamoto breathes out and suddenly Kensuke feels... very nice. Cool. Calm. He hasn't felt this calm since he was a kid. Before his flames activated when he was 6, because he watched Hibari Kyouya lay the smackdown on some kid trying to kick him off the throne and then get praised for it. Because he wanted to do the same. [1]

It's. Weird.

"Tsuna," Yamamoto says. He looks down just briefly, just long enough for Kensuke to notice his eyes are blue and shimmering like- like water under the sun. Under the sky.

"..What about him?"

"We have to go."

That's the only warning he has before Yamamoto starts bounding up the stairs 2 at a time like a— he hates to sound like Kurokawa but, like a monkey. Kensuke curses and starts climbing after him. How can he still have that much leg strength left? Gods above.

Yamamoto reaches the top of the stairwell first, of course, and stands in the open doorway for a while. When he shows no sign of moving, Kensuke tries to ask what he sees, but there's no answer.

"Tsuna, please don't fall," Yamamoto says, and he walks out onto the roof just as Kensuke reaches the bottom of the last flight, muttering something about tall gangly aliens.

What Kensuke sees is almost enough to make him fall back down the stairs.

"Sawada-" He starts forward, then stops when Sawada looks at him. Those eyes again. The same ones he had not weeks ago, the ones he had when he first grabbed Kensuke's wrist. Sharp. Clear. Bright. "..Sawada, what are you doing up there?"

"I'm.. standing?" Sawada blinks slowly, looking down at his feet and then back up. "See? I'm fine. I can stand up now."

"You are not fine, you're supposed to stay in the wheelchair for a few more days. You're not even supposed to be in school for weeks yet, how the hell did you even get into the building? How did you even get up the stairs?"

"I used the ramps behind the school, obviously. You worry too much. I'm fine, Kensuke."

"Of course I'm fucking worried you're standing on the damn— what did you just call me?"

"Uh, Kensuke. That's your name. Right?" Sawada blinks. The.. glowing thing doesn't go away. He's- orange? That's— "..Should I not call you that?"

Kensuke blinks too. Because, what? This is weird.

"..Obviously not. I'm your senior, you should stick in an honorific somewhere. No, forget that— don't call me so familiarly to begin with!" Kensuke stomps a few steps closer, and stops again. What the hell is Yamamoto doing standing so close? And not doing anything? "Yamamoto! Don't just stand there, get him down—"

He's still blue. Still glowing. The air around him is so bright, even brighter than it had been in the stairwell, and it almost makes Kensuke stop breathing because what the hell.

Sawada is, too. Bright. Glowing. This is- the Aura thing. A visible, physical manifestation of fiamma energy dispersing into the atmosphere. Measureable, in lumens. And the very reason why the coasts of Niigata and Ishikawa called them candele. [2]

How much is Sawada giving off right now? Why hasn't anyone noticed?

"..Sawada are you insane?" Kensuke hisses, shaking himself out of whatever Sawada's— Aura is doing to his head. "You just had a heart attack from flame exhaustion, you're not—"

"No I didn't."

"Your heart stopped!"

"Yeah." Sawada waves a hand like it's nothing. "That's different from a heart attack."

"Who cares?! It still stopped!"

"You're being very high-strung today, Kensuke." Sawada's head tips to the side.

Yamamoto's does the same. "I think he's just worried, Tsuna."

"Worried? About me? Perish the thought."

"Why am I the only one who seems to think that your clumsy idiot ass is going to fall and die if you don't get down from the fence, Sawada?!"

Then he laughs. He laughs. Laughs in a way that does, actually, sound genuine. Doesn't sound forced, doesn't sound practiced, doesn't sound like rote memorization and repetition, like it did in grade school. It's not just to be polite. It's not just a sound.

"Don't be ridiculous, Kensuke. I'm not going to die." Sawada smiles, just as wide and just as real as Kensuke remembers from the playground in daycare. 9 years ago. The last time he ever saw Sawada when he wasn't bumbling into everything and tripping over nothing.

It's real.

..So is the flame on his forehead. He's definitely not imagining it this time. Flickering like a candle, like a candela, sparking and spreading out far and wide. It hits Kensuke like a heat wave, but not like walking out of an air-conditioned room and into the desert. No, it's..

It's like coming home out of a blizzard. A warm fire. Cozy.

Welcoming.

Sawada stands on the fence, balanced and unerring. Tall. Sunlight gilds his hair in gold and his eyes are a shade of amber that seems to gleam for forever. Eyes that look at no one but him.

He smiles, and he says, "I'm going to live."

Who was the idiot that said Sawada had no flame? Who was it that said Sawada had no Resolve? That he wasn't a Sky, he wasn't actually a Sawada, that he wasn't anything at all? Just a No Good kid with no flame, no father, no ambition, no talent, no nothing.

Who missed all of this?

"This is such bullshit," Kensuke says in a rush of breath. Because he can't help but come closer, when Sawada holds out his hand. Nothing else. Just holds out a damn hand and Kensuke's trotting over like a lapdog. "You shouldn't even... You are such— bullshit, Sawada."

"You could call me Tsuna, Kensuke."

"Tsuna," he says almost immediately. And then- "Wait- shit, no, what the hell?"

Kensuke jerks back and scowls, pulling his hand away with painful reluctance. He can practically hear the rubatosic beat of that flickering flame, humming out a steady current of I'm here, I'm here, come home, come home in his head and it is so wrong because he barely even knows Tsun— Sawada.

The mere thought of it reminds him of all the sandcastles they had made in daycare together. When he'd dump a bucket on the books Sawada was reading, because what 4 year old reads books, especially books as big as that one? Weird. Lame. Reminds him of the damn sandmansions Sawada was capable of. Reminds him of when parents wanted their kids to be like Sawada. Except Kensuke's mom. She never said it. He knew she thought about it, but she never actually said it.

So young and so clever. So well-behaved.

Reminds him of the first time Sawada came to daycare without a book. The first time he refused to play, until Kensuke shoved the bucket of sand into his arms. The first time he couldn't figure out where to upturn it to build up the wall and ended up spilling it on himself instead.

Reminds him that he laughed. No Good Tsuna. No Good Tsuna.

Now no one wants their kid to be like him. Now they don't call him clever, now don't call him well-behaved.

Now he's 14 and everyone says he's still No Good. No one remembers when he wasn't No Good, it was so long ago.

Now—

Sawada swats at Yamamoto's hand creeping up to grab his own outstretched one. Says something like you had your turn already when Yamamoto whines, aaww, c'mon, Tsuna.

"...What's that for," Kensuke asks as flatly as he can. Wishes he could burn a hole through Sawada's hand with his eyes.

"For you to take, obviously."

"Why."

"Well, how else are you going to get me down from here?"

Honestly, the number of times this kid leaves him at a loss for words is racking up, and fast. Never mind the fact that Yamamoto is looking back and forth between Sawada's hand and Kensuke with the sort of smile that says if you're not going to do it then I will.

"Come on, Kensuke. I don't have loser cooties, geez."

"Stop saying my name so familiarly!"

Even though it's been near half a year now. Even though they've probably hung out enough to be considered friends, except for the fact that no one but Yamamoto and Sasagawa and Kyouko and Kurokawa want to be Sawada's friend, and Kurokawa denies even that.

Even though they tossed sand at each other in day care. Even though Kensuke thought that Sawada had been a bit of a know-it-all show-off for being able to read and make awesome sandmansions. Even though he felt like that Sawada could do just about anything back then.

Even though it made Kensuke want to do the same. Do anything.

Do everything.

He reaches out and yanks on Sawada's hand, pulling him down from the fence maybe a little too roughly, a little too hard. A little too eager to get him on solid ground. He's at least half a foot taller, so it's easy to use the bulk of his own mass to keep Sawada from actually crashing down.

He's heard about Sky flames in class. Everyone has. When they explained each attribute and energy wavelength, what it meant for those of each type, they had pictures and diagrams and everything. He doubts anyone in Namimori has seen a Sky before, honestly, since the only Sky here is Sawada and everyone is so willing to believe that Sawada doesn't have flames except

except he does.

Oh, man, he does.

"..I don't know how to be more than a Sky," Sawada says into his shirt, impossibly soft and gentle, like his flames. Kensuke blinks, and Sawada's hand tightens its grip around his own. "Or how to be anything other than a Sky. But you.. you're more than a Storm. You are. You said so yourself."

Where is Sawada going with this and why is Kensuke still holding him? Why hasn't Sawada let go of his hand? Why hasn't Kensuke let go of his hand?

Why does it feel so nice and warm and—

"You could be mine."

...What.

"What the hell are you talking about?" He jerks back again- tries to. Except Sawada still isn't letting go.

Tsuna. Tsuna isn't letting go.

"Um, my friend. You could be my friend?" Sawada, Tsuna, props his chin up against Kensuke's chest, looking way too comfortable. Hasn't he heard of personal space? Isn't this the kid who jerks away if anyone so much as grazes him? "You could be my friend."

"..Who would want to be your friend?" An icy dread crawls up his throat like inverse bile, even as the words come out. Before they even come out.

"That's rude!" Yamamoto chirps from somewhere nearby. Somewhere. Where are they again? Oh, right, the roof. "I would want to be his friend. I amhis friend!"

"You don't count," Kensuke hisses, glancing over. He's still glowing. Dammit, why is he glowing and why does it make Kensuke feel so calm?

Right. Rain. Right as rain. Right as Rain.

...Why isn't he getting tired? He's always getting tired when Tsuna grabs his hand. What the hell is this, then?

Yamamoto's frowning, too. Why's he frowning? "Well, fine, if you're not going to be his friend then you can let him go, senpai."

Kensuke stares at Yamamoto for a long, long moment. Thinks, why would I let him go? And then-

And then he jumps back as though he's been scalded, the warmth suddenly too unbearable, too hot, too suffocating. Shoves Tsu- Sawada away. He feels like a fish with a hook in his skin, feels like he's being reeled in and didn't even notice it was happening. Didn't even notice it was hurting. Didn't notice that he wasn't even struggling. A hook in his skin. Colored, orange.

He tears it out.

Hears more than feels the metaphorical line snapping, hears it in the form of Sawada's pitiful yelp, sees it in his wince, in the way the flame on his forehead flickers. Still pulsing, earnest and yearning. Still sending out that staccato message, like an SOS in Morse code. I'm here. I'm here.

Come home, come home.

Kensuke turns and runs. Leaves. Ignores the way his heart pounds like it's beating for two, the way his lungs burn for air as though he were drowning.

Ignores the trail of red he leaves behind. It leaks out of him and into the air like blood in water and it won't stop. It won't stop, it-

It won't—

---

. . .

---

Sawada stops again.

It's the bridge this time. One of the few bridges they pass by on the way to or from school from the part of town that Sawada's house is in. Kensuke remembers when it happened the first time, last year. How Sawada would freeze up just like he's doing now every time they went past a bridge or a river. There's a lot of them in Namimori.

Yamamoto always pulled him away, pointing out something further down the street, and that would be the end of it.

Someone closes their garbage can a little too loudly, and that's the end of that, too. Sawada jumps and spins around, bumping into Kensuke in his surprise. Or because he was expecting Yamamoto to be there to pull him away.

Kensuke does. Steers him down the street with a slight shove in his side, rather than a hand on his back. Because it isn't last year anymore and he knows Sawada still doesn't like being touched, for the most part. On skin, at least. Sawada sends him a furtive glance anyway and scoots along, knuckles white around the handle of his book bag.

It's ridiculous how he wants to be a Sky with shoulders so small.

"Why do you want to know, anyway?" That startles the kid out of whatever thoughts he was lost in. Staring at some children squabbling on the other side of the street. "Why I left kendo. What are you so hung up on?"

"..I—"

"And don't say because you're a Sky, I told you I'd throttle you if you said that again."

"I- hey! It's a- it's a valid reason."

Kensuke just looks at him blandly. "Not for every single thing."

"This isn't every single thing! This is one! One thing!"

"Stop squeaking, holy hell, you really are a mouse."

Sawada hisses. "What is with you people and your small animal metaphors?!"

"You're TINY," Kensuke hisses back. "In case you haven't noticed."

"Oh, thank you for pointing out the obvious to me. I never knew I was so small!"

"You're welcome."

The silence that follows is not companionable, per se.. but it isn't uncomfortable either. It never is, with Sawada. Whether Kensuke has just helped him keep his balance and not topple down the stairs, or whether he'd been the one to make some passing remark about one of Sawada's various failing performances. Like his grades. Or... everything else.

Sawada just. Doesn't care.

Which makes him wonder why he does care about the things he says he cares about. If he does actually care about them. He says he does. Sawada says a lot of things. He doesn't mean all of them.

"..I'm just enjoying my last year of junior high, alright?" Kensuke says finally. Because unlike Sawada, Kensuke is really bad with silence. Kendo had been good for him, in that sense. "Kicking back and relaxing. There, happy?"

"You're not relaxing though," Sawada notes, not meeting his eyes. Strangely enough. "You're not kicking back. You're still... doing your patrols and stuff and helping out the Committee but you're not..."

He makes a weird gesture with his hands, probably something he learned from Yamamoto, who is capable of general conversation but can only seem to describe things with hand movements and the sort of sound effects you would read about in shounen manga. Considering the amount of time he spends in Sawada's room and the number of Shounen Jump issues and whatever else Sawada has on his bookshelves, Kensuke isn't surprised.

Doesn't make him any better at translating it to Normal Human Language, though. That's usually what Sawada's for. Was for.

"..You don't hang out with them anymore."

"How the hell would you know who I do or don't hang out with? Are you stalking me now?"

"Like it's hard?" Sawada huffs, very pointedly looking away. "It's impossible not to know where you are all the time. Well, not all the time, because that would be creepy, but- at school! You leave your angriness on everything."

"I don't know what dictionary you're reading but angriness isn't a word, idiot."

"Yes it is!"

Kensuke rolls his eyes. "Are you seriously going to get worked up about something like that?"

"You do!"

His mouth snaps shut and he turns away just as Sawada turns to him. Knows he won't be able to stay quiet if he looks he kid dead in the eye. Knows that if he does, it's either Fight or Talk and, honestly, Kensuke has chosen Fight far too many times for it to keep happening again and again. You'd think Sawada would learn by now, but he keeps trying to make eye contact.

It's damn annoying.

"And what d'you mean anyway, enjoying your last year of junior high? The high school isn't that far off. And now if you stick to the Committee you can always come back. Hibari-san always does." Sawada elbows him in the side. Kensuke would find it joking and jesting if he didn't feel like there was a sort of hesitance to it. "..You are going to high school, right? You're not doing the whole full on drop-out delinquent routine?"

"You wanna know why I quit kendo? You wanna know? Does everything that happened last year ring any bells? It damn well should, seeing as most of it was your fault!"

"Wha- what does that have anything to do with—"

And he hates that Sawada doesn't say no it wasn't, how was any of that my fault. He hates that the Sawada doesn't say you're the one who started all of it. Hates that Sawada doesn't try to deny it being his fault. Whether it was or it wasn't. He's always been like that and Kensuke just—

cannot stand it—

"I'm LEAVING," he yells, ignoring the looks he gets from the sparse few people on the streets. Club activities mostly haven't finished yet, so all the students are still in school. Meaning parents are still at home, or at work, or at the markets. Not many people just walking around. Good. Good."Come high school it's sayonara Namimori, and all that. Alright?!"

"..Wait what do you mean you're leaving— Mochida stop!"

He knows without even looking back that Sawada won't follow him across the next bridge that Kensuke reroutes himself across. His own house isright there and he's sick and tired of taking the long way around just to get to Sawada's place and having to backtrack after. He's done it something like a million times by now. Kensuke just wants to go home.

"Get back here—!"

"I'm going home, Sawada, you can get to your house from here by yourself. I know you're not that useless."

"YOU'RE A DAMN COWARD, YOU KNOW THAT?"

It makes his blood boil and run cold at the same time. He's not a coward. He's not- Sawada doesn't know anything, he has no right—

"Says the one who can't even CROSS A DAMN BRIDGE," Kensuke shouts over his shoulder. He's already halfway and Sawada is still at the other end, brimming and fidgeting and glancing back and forth between Kensuke and the trickling creek. It can't be heights, so it's gotta be water, and there's barely any, and didn't he sit at the docks just fine, too? This damn kid.

Just when he thinks he's finally lost Sawada, the moment he finishes crossing the bridge he hears the telltale rapid tapping of school loafers sprinting over wood.

"Don't you ever give up—" He turns around just in time for Sawada to barrel into him, seeing as he was running with his head down and eyes shut. And given that Sawada is little more than an oversized mouse with a megaphone for his squeaking, all he really manages to do is make Kensuke stumble back a few steps before he shoves the kid off him.

"I fell off this bridge when I was 5!" It comes out in a rush, all breathless and wheezy because Sawada can't even handle running across a bridge without being exhausted. Being angry and apparently terrified of crossing bridges probably doesn't help either.

Sawada takes a moment to steady himself, still clutching the bookbag slung over his shoulder. He's leaning against one of the wooden posts, trying not to look behind him or to the side where the ravine is visible.

"..This- this is. Probably the first time I've- ever.. walked over that thing."

"You had your eyes shut, you moron."

Sawada looks up. They're bright, his eyes. Not as clear and shining as they were before, that time last year, but bright. Focused. Like he's tuning out everything else and all he cares about right now is Kensuke and that just- that just pisses him off—

"I still crossed it," he says, like it's some grand accomplishment. "It was in Oct-October. It was cold. The water, it was so cold and I—"

I still crossed it. That's probably what he was going to say. Before he started wobbling and falling over, and Kensuke lets out a curse and reaches out to catch him, damn this kid.

"I thought we agreed on no more heart attacks." Sawada swats him on the arm. He figures that means the kid is still kicking and breathing. "Jeez, can't even get home by yourself. You're worse than a drunkard. I knew we should've brought the wheelchair along- come on, how can you be so heavy? You weigh practically nothing—"

Sawada whines into his arm. The very same one he just smacked. Kensuke rolls his eyes and situates himself on Sawada's left side, slinging the arm over his shoulder to keep him upright. Luckily he's not as tall as Yamamoto is. Yamamoto probably just slings Sawada over his shoulder. Or carries him. Princess style. He seems the type to do that.

"What are you running away from?" The question is slurred, tired, in the way Sawada usually is after doing practically anything that involves physical movement. Has to be adrenaline rush. Some very Extreme adrenaline rush and crash. Awful. How can he get an adrenaline rush from everything? What the hell?

"Who says I'm running away from anything."

"You won that duel last year."

"..Yeah. So what?"

"You.. won. And then you tossed it away."

"Do I have to keep reminding you that I broke your ribs in that duel? I was showing you some pity, you ungrateful little—"

"I never asked for your pity," Sawada hisses. Maybe Kensuke's just imagining it, but he's huddling closer too. It's not that cold, is it? "Also, you justfractured them, and how many times do I have to tell you that I don't blame you for that?"

"Of course you don't, why would you? The great and magnanimous Sawada Tsunayoshi forgives the Captain of the Kendo Club for beating him black and blue in an unfair duel. That sure is a great way to throw yourself at the top of the food chain." Kensuke remembers suddenly that he's not actually wearing the carrybag for his shinai anymore and readjusts his hold on Sawada's arm to better keep hold of him. Damn kid. Damn kid. He lets out a harsh scoff under his breath, all but dragging Sawada along.

As usual, Sawada doesn't ask where they're going. He never asks. Trusts too much.

"I didn't blame you for it," Sawada says again, and this time he does actually push himself away. Stumbles a bit and ends up leaning against a street sign, but it's about the first time Kensuke has ever seen him actually.. refuse help. "..So stop blaming yourself for it."

"I'm not blaming myself. That's just stupid, I don't do stupid things like you do, Sawada."

"No, you just- you just are stupid."

"I'm telling on you," Kensuke growls, pulling Sawada up by his arm instead. If he can stand, he can walk. "I'm gonna tell your houseguest tutor that you called an upperclassman stupid and let him deal with you."

"Reborn? Are you kidding me? He'll just tell me to call you stupid some more."

"..What the hell kind of home tutor did your mom get you?"

"Dad sent him," Sawada says, and his grin is, in fact, the stuff of nightmares. Kensuke's nightmares, anyway. Bright, shining, toothy. Taunting. Way too happy for a kid like him. "He's with the mafia."

Just happy enough— wait what what

"What the fuck, Sawada."

---

. . .

---

"What the hell, Kensuke?"

He blinks. Shakes his head, because the red haze has been filtering in way too often now and it's making him dizzy every time. Dizzy and giddy and just- uppity. Up.

When he looks again, Sawada is staring at him, eyes wide and focused and just bright. Yamamoto's frowning, again. Kyouko- god, Kyouko looks sodisappointed and scared and disapproving and Kurokawa always looks disapproving, and Lan-

Oh, shit.

"..Oh. Shit, Lan, I-"

"You what?"

"I didn't mean to!"

Lan flicks a cluster of rice off her chest and pins him with a stare. "You're saying you didn't mean to take your bento, the bento you specifically asked me to make for you, and throw it at someone?"

Kensuke groans and sinks back down onto the bench, head in his hands, as scandalized gasps rise up around them.

"She made that for you and you just- you just chucked it? You- you absolute monkey!"

"That's not cool, senpai. That's not cool at all."

"How would you, Kensuke? Lan must have spent so long on it, too."

He can feel Sasaki's stare burning into the side of his head, intense and glaring. She's quiet but man does she have a temper. She's like Sawada in that sense.

Sawada, who is laughing. And still eating. He blinks at them and holds up a piece of fish that Kensuke very much recognizes from his own lunch. "What? It's good! It's almost as good as my mom's cooking."

"..I'm flattered, seeing as I've tasted your mother's cooking and it's more or less sent from the Heavens," Lan says slowly, directing a gesture of prayer to the bento in Sawada's lap, "but where did you get that?"

"It.. bounced into my lunch?" Sawada moves his hand like an airplane and mimes what must have been Kensuke's bento box hitting the far wall behind their lunch spot, exploding like fireworks, and landing pieces in just about everyone's lunches. And hair. And shoulders. Kyouko's picking rice out of Sawada's hairpuffs.

Kensuke is so glad he was almost done eating before he decided it would be a good idea to throw his lunch at the wall. Why the hell did he even do that?

"..This is going to sound stupid, but- why did I even do that?"

"Please don't tell me you don't remember why you threw my hard work away. Granted, that was last night's food so it's not like I woke up early to make it or anything, but still!"

"Obviously I don't remember or I wouldn't be asking— wait you fed me your leftovers?!"

"Are you complaining?"

Kensuke snaps his mouth shut. He's not even going to bother trying to refute that, because anything he says would be a dirty, dirty lie. He loves his best friend's cooking. Even before she worked up the courage last year to feed him the results of her Home Economics class.

"You threw it at those monkeys over there," Kurokawa quips, pointing her chopsticks rudely at a pair of third years glaring in their direction. When he looks over they seem to let out some kind of squawk and duck around the corner, out of sight.

"..I did?"

"They just came by to call me Dame Tsuna like they always do," Sawada says evenly, still eating. "First time you've thrown anything at them though. Usually it's Takeshi and his beans."

Kensuke's arm twitches. So does Yamamoto's. Their eyes meet and Yamamoto grins conspiratorially, and then he steals a piece of fried chicken from Sawada's lunch.

Lan waves a hand in front of his face. "You sure you're okay, Ken-chan?"

"Stop calling me that, Lan," Kensuke grumbles back, getting up to retrieve his now-empty bento box. He still has his fruit juice, at least. "We're not 8 anymore."

She squints at him like she has words to say, but Sawada beats her to it.

"You call him Ken-chan, Touno-san?"

"Yeah. Ever since we were like, 8." Lan stares at him for another moment when he sits back down, then grins and shrugs. "8-year-old me thought his name was too long."

. . .

He should've known better than to think Lan would let him off easily. Even if it was just leftovers that he had more or less finished eating before he used the rest as a projectile.

She drags him to the nurse's ward after school when he blew up at one of the first years loitering around instead of going to kendo practice. Even Sawada had been.. well. Surprised didn't sound right. Affected? Yeah. Affected.

"Tsuna said Kensuke was.. Red. Like, really red. Is that bad, nurse?"

"Well, there's nothing wrong with him physically." Nurse Shiomi takes off the stethoscope and sets it aside. "Of course, I'm not a Dr.. His vitals are a bit elevated though. Did you come here straight from class, Kensuke?"

"Um, sort of. Lan just.. dragged me out. We even brought the kids along."

Sawada and Sasaki jump and share a sheepish look with each other. Pair of mice, they are.

"No physical activity then? Other than the possible flight of stairs."

"I. I threw my bento at some third years during lunch, but other than that.." He shakes his head. "Haven't even gone to the dojo yet. I do feel a bit, uh... jittery?"

"Your heart rate is elevated, like I said. That might be causing the jittery feeling. Like nerves. How long have you been feeling this?"

"Yeah. About... almost two weeks now. It wasn't that bad at first."

"And you say he looks.. red, Tsunayoshi?"

Sawada looks between him and the nurse. Lingers on him a little too long for Kensuke's liking. "..A lot redder than before. Before it was just kind of, um.. pink? Like, thin and hazy. Now it's just... really red and-"

He mimes something like juggling while making buku buku sounds.

"Oh, hey," Kensuke snaps his fingers. "I know this one. It's.. bubbles. Bubbling?"

"Yeah! Yeah. It's, it's sort of.. bubbling out. Like too much soap in a bathtub."

Hah! He guessed it. Wait- "Are you calling me a bathtub?"

"I don't think he's calling you a bathtub, Kensuke, but." Nurse Shiomi rolls past them and over to a cabinet that Kensuke knows is usually only for emergencies. She takes out something that looks like the heater his mom uses for their tiger oscar's fish tank, though a bit smaller, and thinner. "He might be onto something. Tsunayoshi, would you?"

Sawada turns around without a word, tipping his head forward and moving his hair away from the nape of his neck. The nurse shakes the rod a few times after turning it on, raps it against the palm of her hand in the very patented method of Making Electronics Work (Properly). Then she presses the end of it against the base of Sawada's skull, holding it there until it beeps. She does the same to his arm, taking another reading from the crook of his elbow, and jots down both numbers on piece of paper that she leaves on her desk.

"Alright. Now, let's see.."

Kensuke's brow furrows. "..What was that all about?"

"Oh, just checking to make sure it still worked. And Tsunayoshi hasn't come in for his internal fiamma response reading this week yet. I thought I might as well get that while he's here." Sawada blinks, looking shocked and betrayed for all of a moment as he sinks back into his chair. Lan snorts, delicately. Somehow. "Kensuke, I'm going to measure your external fiamma response. You know what that is, right?"

"Yeah. It's the.." He waves a hand back and forth in front of his face. "That one, right? Had it done when I was.. 10."

"Mm-hm. I just need you to stay still and relax for a seconds. You can close your eyes if you need to."

He does. Hears the humming of the measuring prong as it goes back and forth in front of his face, like his hand at done, but a lot slower.

"Um.. what's the internal fiamma reading?"

Is that Sasaki? Huh. She sounds...

Pretty normal. Really quiet, like she's trying hard to whisper. But normal.

"It's.. uh- it measures the fiamma response from the- from some part in your head, where they come out, right here. It's usually in the 300s in, I think it's Fiamma Voltage, right? Which is.. pretty good? And then it puts that against the Fiamma Response from one of your limbs. Usually the elbow, but sometimes the knee is used too. That one's normally in the 40-60.. range. In the end you get something like a 5-to-1 ratio, or close to it. Kind of like a blood pressure reading, except no squeeze-y arm thing."

"Oh.. how come you know so much about this kind of thing?"

"I, eh, I have to get my readings done every week, so I've heard it a lot of times before. My normal reading's ratio is... really off— I have a really weird sort of fiamma exhaustion, so we- um, we have to.. kind of monitor it really closely. To make sure it doesn't drop.. too low. Especially ever since that- since that incident. Ah—"

Kensuke's heart jumps, racing, like it did when he fled the rooftop two weeks ago. He feels it fluttering in his chest for a moment, tremulous and shaking, like it's trying to beat for two again, and Nurse Shiomi clucks her tongue.

"Tsunayoshi?"

"Yeah- it just, it just bubbled up some more."

"You can open your eyes, Kensuke."

He does. Sawada is still staring at him, and Sasaki is looking between Kensuke and trying to peer at reading on the measuring prong over the nurse's shoulder. She looks..

Concerned. Very.

Very concerned.

The last time someone looked at him like that, it was when Dr. Ueda told his mother that Kensuke was, like most Storms, at risk for severe hyperincaendia. He gave her a pamphlet that he later found out had a hotline printed inside, for individuals troubled by Storm relatives, and a separate line for troubled Storms themselves. He told her the Sawada compound always had openings.

He was 10. They're always 10.

God, he hates it. Knew this was coming.

"You know what the normal reading is for external fiamma response, don't you, Kensuke?" She asks quietly, showing him the little LCD screen on the handle. He sucks in a breath and feels a chill in his bones. From his bones. Curls his hands over his knees and slumps forward, gritting his teeth.

Distantly he's aware of Nurse Shiomi shooing the others away and drawing the curtain around the bed he's sitting on, even Lan, though she doesn't protest. She probably knew this was coming, too. He did tell her what Dr. Ueda had said. First one he did tell.

...Actually, the only one, seeing as he didn't and still doesn't really have anyone else close enough to tell besides her.

"..Now, now, there's no need to look like the world's ending."

Isn't it, though? He knows she's just trying to be.. comforting but Kensuke's- god, he's only 15. He was supposed to have way more years before hyperincaendia set in fully. His old man didn't even get it until he was, what, 40? That's what his mother said.

She also said they're getting younger every year, when Dr. Ueda told him he might make 25 before it happened. 30, if he was lucky.

Hah.

"You know what your options are, Kensuke." Nurse Shiomi sets the measuring prong down on the bed next to him, and he eyes it with distaste. "The normal reading shouldn't read more than 10 or 20. Anything above that is pre-hyperincaendiac.."

"..And anything above 60 is pushing the hyperincaendia zone. I know." He sighs and rubs at his face. His skin feels a little numb. "Dr. Ueda told me before."

"86 isn't too bad. It's still low enough to manage with the occasional treatment, which we can do at the school, if you're comfortable having it done here. The Committee can have adjustments made to your school schedule, like they have for Tsunayoshi."

That does make Kensuke look up. "Wha- him too?"

Nurse Shiomi nods, though she looks a bit.. rueful. "Mostly he just comes in here to sleep."

"..That definitely sounds like Sawada."

"Oh, speaking of Sawada-"

"I'm not going to move down to the compound," Kensuke hisses before she can even finish. Then he twitches and ducks his head, dizzy again. "Sorry- sorry, nurse, I.. I just don't want to.."

I don't want to leave.

"..Your other option is to have a Sawada attendant come up periodically," she continues after a pause. If it were Sawada, he wouldn't even have batted an eye. Damn Sawada. "There's an incaendia clinic in Azayakatani, as well. Most of them are being staffed with an attendant now that the Sawadas are working with the Tran Foundation."

"Don't need one." Kensuke jerks his head towards Sawada's seat— or where it probably is, now that he's hidden by the curtain. "Got one right there."

"He's.. not a proper attendant, Kensuke. Tsunayoshi has never been to the Compound. He wouldn't know what to do." Nurse Shiomi folds her hands in her lap. She has a ring, he notices, but it's on her right index finger. He doesn't recognize the crest. "I may not be your primary doctor, but I know Dr. Ueda wouldn't authorizing letting Tsunayoshi act as your attendant."

"Then I don't need one." He tries not to sound too sulky, or morose. It's just- it's just a decision. Temporary choice. For now. "..I don't want to go to the Compound. I'll.. I'll just do the treatments for now and- I'll figure something out. Meditation or something, I don't know."

86 isn't bad, as she says. If it hits 100, they'll probably start having his mother make decisions if they think he isn't capable of making them himself. Depends on the individual, Dr. Ueda had said. Some are more susceptible. Some are very resistant. I heard your father held out for quite a while.

And his mother would definitely want to move them down to the Sawada Compound. Because it's the best place for Storms, after the Colony, depending on your philosophy. And probably because his father and older.. brother? Sister? Was there too.

"I can recommend you to a Storm specialist, if you'd like another opinion. Dr. Ueda is a good doctor, but I know it.. always feels better to talk to someone who understands."

He nods. "Yeah. Thanks, nurse. Shiomi-san."

"Now now, I've told you not to call me that. Just Shiomi is fine. It's just my family name, anyway."

The elderly nurse takes a notepad from her pocket and jots down something. Makes a few marks on clipboard that holds his current medical chart, and then tears the note off to hand over.

Kensuke takes it. He stares at the lines and curves until they register as a name, a phone number, an e-mail address.

He wonders if Sawada has anyone he talks to. Someone who understands.

---

. . .

---

The door opens with bored, drawling okaeri being yawned at them. Kensuke balks for a moment, just long enough for Sawada to slip off his shoulder and land face-first against the torso of... his houseguest? Sawada mumbles a muffled tadaima but doesn't otherwise move.

The man looks down. Then he looks up again and raises an eyebrow. Kensuke's finger twitches. "..What happened to him?

"He, uh. Crossed a bridge." Kensuke scratches the back of his neck. "..Well, more like he ran across it really fast, but he still crossed it? And then this— happened."

He gestures to, basically, all of Sawada. Just. That.

"Ah. He does this every morning, too." Reborn looks mildly understanding. "I am both glad and worried to hear it's not an isolated thing."

"It's exercise in general. I.. think, anyway."

"Hm." The man lifts a hand up and looks.. kind of not sure where to put it at first. Then he just pats Sawada on the shoulder a few times and sort of- maneuvers himself and Sawada aside. Turns his head back indoors. "Sawada-san, Tsunayoshi is home. He's asleep on his feet again."

Sawada's mom flutters out in a fussy fit and herds all of them indoors, despite Kensuke's insistence on heading home right away. He's got no reason to be here anymore, not after that.. shouting match on the streets. God, that was embarrassing. They're just lucky no one called the Committee on them for disturbing the peace.

Sawada sometimes manages to stay in that exact position, face squashed against Reborn's chest, until his mother moves him onto the living room couch. Then he just... lays down across all three seats.

Nana sighs and shakes her head. Reborn does the same, just as.. fond? As Sawada's mother.

"..Uhm, Sawada-san- I really should go." Kensuke makes an aborted motion towards the front door, since he hasn't gone further than the entranceway to the living room. "I'm- sure Sawada doesn't need me around for his nap."

"Oh, if you're sure, Kensuke-kun." Sawada's mother looks a little dejected. She likes having company around way too much. Kensuke can't blame her though, since Sawada's never been talkative about family. Or around family. "Let me pack you some of the cookies I made this afternoon. For your mother. Is she okay with pumpkin?"

"Yeah- I mean, yes. I mean- you don't have to, Sawada-san—!"

She pats him on the cheek and bustles away, leaving Kensuke just more or less speechless. It would be a little more warming and endearing if she didn't look so much like Sawada, but with.. longer hair. They're even the same height, god, it's mind-boggling.

..Actually, Sawada did look a bit like his mother back before his hair started going all Super Saiyan on them. And even when it rains now—

"Reborn- er, Reborn-san," Kensuke says instead, shoving the thought of rain out of his head.

"Yes, Mochida?" The man doesn't even look up from his paperwork. Whatever it is that he's doing. He's not even a citizen, what kind of paperwork is he doing?

Unless he's like... actually a tutor. That's probably Sawada's classwork. What a nightmare.

"The other day, what you said.. About us, uh. What was it- with the Harmonizing—"

"You could let the process complete itself, I believe is what I said."

"Right, that." Kensuke shifts at the doorway. Kind of wishes he still had the familiar weight of a shinai against his back, pulling down on his shoulder. It feels like he's holding it too high now. "..Is that really possible? And.. what exactly did you mean that everything would be fine?"

"I thought you were leaving?" Kensuke makes a face at that. He hears Nana humming in the kitchen, taking way too long to bag up a few cookies. She's probably waiting for him. This.. damn, polite family. She's not even a Sky. "Well, if you have a moment.."

Reborn sets down the papers and pats the other cushion of the loveseat he's currently sitting at. Kensuke's grimace deepens but he scoots on in and drops into the spot next to the man, pointedly slotting his bookbag into the space between them and slouching back.

"You'll ruin your back sitting like that, Mochida."

"Yeah yeah. And Sawada's going to ruin his back if he keeps sleeping on couches like that, but no one's telling him he can't."

Sawada gives him a sleepy, floppy swat on the knee for that.

"Are you awake, Tsunayoshi? Did you want to join our lovely little talk?"

"Mrrfgh," Sawada says.

"I think that was a 'no'," Reborn observes sagely. Then he turns to Kensuke, the epitome of smooth, suave clarity. Even though he's wearing a polo-shirt with a duck printed on the front and baggy, plaid-patterned pajama pants. It's, like, 4 in the evening, and he's still in pajamas. "So, Mochida-kun. What exactly do you know about Harmonization?"

"Honestly? Like, jack shit. Zilch. Nada." He waves his hand dismissively. "I know it's weird as hell."

"Well you're not wrong." Reborn scratches at his chin, even though he hasn't got any stubble. "It's a little easier to understand these days than it was in the past, but Skies are still notoriously difficult to observe. Always have been."

"Weird, seeing as you can ask them to do anything else and they'll probably do it." Kensuke squints at Sawada's prone form on the couch next to them. Wonders if he's actually sleeping or not. Sawada's inability to refuse a request probably comes from his mom though. It's practically impossible to refuse her requests.

"The process itself is.. a bit of a mystery. I have the pleasure of considering one Sky a friend, but even he won't tell me what Harmonization is like. It's a private thing, I suppose, between the Sky and whomever they Harmonize with. What I do know, and from what he has told me, is that it can be done improperly. The connection might be faulty, might be temporary, might be volatile. The exchange of Flames skews towards one or the other, rather than shared evenly. One-sided Loyalty Bonds towards the Sky aren't uncommon, especially among older generations. It's a lot rarer for it to go the other way, from Sky to a non-Sky."

"..Which- which one do we.. uh. Have?"

"Why are you asking me?" Reborn blinks. "Tsunayoshi is the one you should be asking. He's your sky, after all."

"He's not my—" Kensuke bites the inside of his cheek, because, yeah, it does physically hurt to even say it. Like bile in his throat, or like he's trying to throw up acid instead of words. "..How do you know it's incomplete, then? Ours, I mean. Mine and.. Sawada's."

"First of all, you are reeking of Storm Flames, I don't know how he can even stand to be near you." Reborn waves a hand like Kensuke did, only he looks a lot more like he's waving away someone's odious fart. Or a fly. Or both. "Though being even partially Harmonized probably makes it more bearable. If he even notices it, anyway."

"..You can smell my Aura?" Kensuke gapes at him.

"Like steak on a shichirin. It's very distracting." That's... that's a little disturbing. "Second, a proper, complete bond, Loyalty or otherwise, stretches over miles. Something about flames and energy wavelengths lets them communicate across distances. Yours, on the other hand, only seems to activate when you're around him. Which, actually, brings me to another matter—"

The man looks over and Kensuke almost freezes, the way his eyes narrow and focus themselves on him like a sniper on a target. Almost, because there's a part of him that also thinks at least he's not looking at Sawada like that. A part of him that tells him to be ready to move just in case the attention shifts.

"—How did you even manage to, as you say, break two of his ribs in that state? I can only imagine it happened after the failed Harmonization. Then again... he's still willing to go through with the Bond, so I suppose it could have happened before. Tsunayoshi seems the type to forgive something like that. Well, he is the type to forgive something like that, seeing as he already has—"

"He's a fucking idiot," Kensuke hisses, clenching and unclenching his hands. He does not look at Sawada. "Who in their right minds forgives something like.. like that? He's- he's crazy. He's crazy, he hates me, and I hate him. There's no reason..."

"He's a Sky," Reborn says, and, boy, doesn't that just make it all worse. Because Sawada has been saying the same thing and Kensuke has just been dismissing it as pointless drivel from a kid trying too hard to fit in. "It's more or less ingrained in their Flames to be kind and forgiving. That's what Harmony is all about, isn't it? Not as though it's right, or that it should happen, but that it has happened. To accept it and to move forward with it."

"You've.. been watching way too much Yorifusa."

"I've only read the one article. And he's right, anyway. Skies are somewhat compulsively forgiving to those they've extended a Bond to."

"Well, then, how do you- how do you know if it's actually forgiven? If it's real and not just some.. just some Sky nonsense."

"What are you talking about?" Reborn raises an eyebrow. Kensuke blinks. "Of course it's real. He's a Sky, he's not on drugs. Flames are made of one's thoughts and emotions. They don't just appear out of thin air, Mochida. They come from the person. Anger begets anger, hate begets hate. Peace begets peace. Forgiveness begets forgiveness. Skies don't forgive if they don't feel forgiveness. Tsunayoshi wouldn't forgive if he didn't feel forgiveness."

"..Isn't that quote from Martin Luther King? Jr?"

"No, it's from an ancient Chinese philosopher who first wrote about Dying Will Flames."

"Where did you even read about something like that?"

"It's quoted in one of your textbooks. Haven't you read it yet?"

Kensuke... doesn't. Just. He doesn't. He can't-

"...How long did you say you'd been on the island again?"

"Just about a month." The man smiles, like he knows exactly what Kensuke's thinking about. It's creepy. "Why do you ask?"

Soooo damn creepy. Kensuke slouches even lower and avoids as much eye-contact as possible.

"...And besides, I don't think he actually hates you. And I don't think you hate him either. Otherwise you wouldn't be sitting here," he says, pointing to Kensuke's seat, "and he wouldn't be thinking about using you as a pillow."

Kensuke has a what the fuck are you talking about of course we hate each other I am NOT a pillow on the tip of his tongue when Sawada wraps a hand around his wrist and tries to drag him out of his seat. He's still lying down though, so there's no real strength in it and Kensuke just.. stays put.

Reborn hums. "But I think you already know that."

Sawada makes a sound like a dog looking for attention, except more muffled and not quite as cute or annoying. Tugs again.

Small animal, supplies a very Hibari-like voice in the back of his head. Learn to deal with each other.

Shit, Kensuke thinks in response, suppressing a shiver at the heat that spreads from his wrist. Shit. Dammit.

---

. . .

---

Jealousy is a weird, vicious thing. Kensuke does not wear it well. Lan even tells him as much.

Jealousy isn't the problem.

The problem is that Kensuke doesn't know why he's jealous. Or even who he's jealous of. What he's jealous about. It's just.

It's this giant bundle of snakes sitting in his room and he's not sure if he wants to poke at it to find out whether he's more worried about beingbitten or being poisoned.

Honestly, he feels more or less the same way about them both.

So he's really, really, really confused about why he's been so prickly to Sawada and Kyouko. Because as far as he knows, he doesn't feel the same way about them both. He really, really doesn't, he's—

Yamamoto's been giving him worried looks the past few days. Lan has been pestering him about it the past few days, ever since he went and got an official checkup with Dr. Ueda, heard basically the same as what Nurse Shiomi had said, but with longer words and longer tests. More conclusive tests. More conclusive words.

He's gotten into at least 2 arguments with Sawada in about as many weeks- not disagreements because they've always had those, especially in a group of, what, 6 people? 7 people. They always have disagreements.

These weren't disagreements.

They were full on shouting matches, once in the school courtyard and once as they were heading out into town, and Hana had gotten involved in the last one when Kensuke, for reasons unknown to any of them, turned on Kyouko.

He apologized. He apologized so much.

Lan helped him to the nurse's for another extraction treatment and asked if he wanted to talk about it while waiting for the fatigue to go away. Kensuke is so bad at feelings, though.

Which doesn't really explain why he ended up challenging Sawada to a mixed kendo [3] match, but at this point, it's too late to change his mind. They've already put it off until the doctor gave Sawada a clean bill of health and finally said he could do normal, light exercise again.

He's pretty sure 'kendo match' isn't normal or light, though. Mixed or otherwise.

But, again. Too late.

He doesn't know why he's doing this. He doesn't know why Sawada agreed to this, even after all the protesting he did. Or why Kyouko isn't saying anything, even though Kensuke had set such a stupid prize for his win. Stupid. Stupid.

Sawada looks like he's struggling a little under the kendo gear, even though he's been fine in it before. Then again, stress might just make it feel heaver. Kyouko probably would have been fine. Kensuke should've challenged Kyouko— no! That. That would be bad. He likes Kyouko, he doesn't want to- challenge her for any reason at all!

Not to mention she would destroy him. Probably. Emotionally.

No. Kensuke doesn't want to fight Kyouko. Well, he does. But he also doesn't.

..He doesn't want to fight Sawada either. And it doesn't look like Sawada doesn't want to fight him, either. He's not serious at all. Not sharp. Not.. not bright. Not like he was when he fought off Morita and Saitou.

He's not serious about this.

He should be. They. Both should be.

Sawada is slow, but he doesn't say anything now. Eyes dull behind the grille of his helmet, brow furrowed whenever Kensuke is close enough to see. He's slow, his strikes are weak, his footwork is sloppy. He's such an amateur. Such a beginner. All he has to do is score just one point.

Which is, of course, easier said than done, because Kensuke is not Captain for nothing. Doesn't seem to mean anything to Sawada though, now that he's suited up and has a shinai in hand.

He's surprisingly difficult to hit. If this were a true kendo match, Kensuke probably would win easily. Sawada is bad at standing still and defending, but he flits away and stays out of range easily enough. Just like he does during their kata practices that always devolve into something more freeform than kendo-standard.

But unlike their practice sessions, Sawada's a lot more.. sluggish, now. Wobbly. He's still quicker than Kensuke, but it's enough to make Kensuke think maybe he was just imagining the past 3 months. That maybe No Good Tsuna has just always been No Good Tsuna, and Kensuke has been pretending that he's gotten better. For his own ego. Aside from talking back more, he hasn't actually seen Sawada do anything beyond the usual.

(Well. He did break a shinai over Saitou's head.)

Kensuke wonders if Sawada's just tired. If that's why he keeps overstepping and faltering and nearly tripping at some points, only to get his shitty balance back in time to slip away from another of Kensuke's strikes. He won't even stay still long enough to defend himself and Kensuke is going to look like a fool if he doesn't land at least few points.

Sawada had tried to get out of it by saying it wouldn't even be a fair fight. Kensuke called him a coward.

So stupid.

"Attack already," he says. Shouts, as they circle each other. Shoves his shinai against Sawada's, taunts him, goads him. Weak. "You can't get a point if you don't attack. Come on, Sawada! Attack!"

He doesn't. Kensuke comes in again, deliberately putting himself within striking distance, but still nothing. Sawada just keeps defending.

"Coward," someone in the crowd says. "No Good Tsuna's a coward!"

No Good Tsuna doesn't even flinch, and that's when Kensuke notices. He's not ignoring the jeering, because Kensuke ignores it and even he spares a glance towards where that call came from. Sawada doesn't do anything like that.

Kensuke moves, circles to the right. Sawada mirrors it, circles to the left, just the right amount of steps to cover the same amount of distance. His eyes don't even shift.

It sends chills up Kensuke's arms. Right. He didn't want to fight Sawada, not really. He didn't want a fight.

He wanted this. This. This moment. That moment, on the roof, and those rare moments during after-club practice. When Sawada went neck and neck against those third years, that- that unwavering intensity.

Skies accept everyone more or less equally, says Sawada Yorifusa. Aside from familial relations, love interests, and Harmony Bonds, it's rare that they ever focus solely on one person. To have the attention of a Sky is... definitely something else. I'm a Sky myself, but I still get goosebumps whenever we have our annual meetings.

For the barest moment, he sees a flicker of bright, glinting amber behind Sawada's faceguard.

Yeah. Goosebumps.

...But it's not enough. Sawada was more than this. So much more. So much, and this, this is-

"What happened to you?" Kensuke snarls, even though he doesn't mean to. The haze is shining red. Anger begets anger. "What happened to you, Sawada?"

They're close enough to each other that no one else can hear them. Circling around, like vultures, except that they are their own carrion. Just waiting for the other to show an opening. Waiting for the other to die.

Sawada is surprisingly good when his eyes are like that. Good eyes.

Good eyes.

He slips in closer. "You weren't this lame before."

It's.. almost like solving a puzzle, but in the beginning, without some sort of reference picture. Pieces clicking blindly into place and no idea what will come of it. That's what it's like.

Sawada's eyes widen.

If they weren't suited up in armor, if they weren't trying to bash each others' heads open, if they were alone... he might have stopped. Kensuke might have stopped, might have asked again. Quieter. Might have talked. About those days.

Those days.

Might have. But they are suited up, and they are trying to bash each others' heads open (...well, Kensuke's trying), and there is a crowd chantingfight, fight, FIGHT, so they don't talk. Instead Kensuke reacts to the sudden slackening of Sawada's grip to twist his shinai out of his hands and disarm him. It thuds noisily off to the side (what an odd sound) and he backs up, shoves Sawada away and aims for the top of his head.

He definitely doesn't expect Sawada to know how to do bare-handed disarming, and instead of ippon, his own shinai is falling away somewhere. It's mixed kendo, though, so whatever gasps of shock are rippling through the crowd don't reach Kensuke. He'd be a pretty poor sport otherwise.

Sawada lashes out for the first time in the entire match and Kensuke backpedals to put distance between them, aims a chop at his side. Sawada side-steps it and just keeps plowing forward and his eyes are burning so bright and his brow so furrowed, so worried. He's still not striking, still not taking advantage of the fact that his reach is smaller and therefore he can actually probably land a hit this close in, while Kensuke has to keep backing up or he won't have room to move his arms.

Kensuke makes it three steps, just barely still inside the boundary line, and lunges a jab at Sawada's throat with his hand. He hears a roaring cheer somewhere- ah, right. They're being observed.

The next thing he knows the room is spinning and he's rolling on the floor, his arm is twinging like it's been wrenched on. Thrown, probably. Not an attack, but it's close, he's getting there. And when he sits up, one hand groping for the nearest shinai, Sawada is just out of striking distance, staring at the one in his own hands. Looking between it and the one Kensuke is getting ready to pick up.

Sawada steps forward. The tip of his shinai drops and his mouth opens. Kensuke does not notice.

Kensuke does not notice because he is swinging a shinai too heavy for anything but practice katas, and he's swinging it a little too hard to make up for the extra weight. This is not mine, he thinks, just briefly. This is prohibited for use in matches.

Kensuke does not notice because Sawada's eyes flash a brilliant amber, right before Kensuke's shinai slams into the side of his breastplate.Harmless, he thinks, just as it makes contact. Expects it to bounce right off again, because both are more or less made of bamboo and a shinai can't possibly do any damage to it. One point. Harmless.

Kensuke doesn't notice because Sawada has been protecting his middle up until now, partial to his right side, just like always. Just like always.

There is a dull, thudding crunch. The kind that's made from chewing ice, or biting into a hard lollipop, or breaking a dog biscuit in half on the edge of a table. Crunch. The breastplate crumples under the force of Kensuke's swing (it's not supposed to do that) and Sawada does the same (he's not supposed to do that either). Someone yells his name, their names, the referee is a fucking idiot who decides to call a point for Kensuke instead of doing something useful like—

The shinai slips from his hands and lands with a sound that only hardwood can make. Kensuke pulls off his helmet and crawls over to where Sawada is still laying, gritting his teeth and pale and smelling of copper and tang. He barely touches the breastplate next to Sawada's hand and it's brittle, so brittle, bamboo slatting splintered inward and oh god how hard had he swung—

There is blood, and it is on his hands.

"..Who prepped the gear," Kensuke demands, cold and hollow. He gets to his feet and swats the referee's flags down with his helmet. Kyouko darts in and he leaves Sawada to her, somehow unable to hear her barking demands for an ambulance and Committee assistance over the pounding in his ears as he sweeps the crowd. "I don't recall asking anyone to fucking sabotage his armor and shinai- who prepped it?!"

The referee is a second year member with a backbone made of boiled tendons. He babbles, and he points.

Kensuke looks.

Kensuke sees red.

Kensuke flings his helmet at Morita and really hopes it hits him or Saitou both.

. . .

He remembers a small hand, cold and slick and tight around his bare ankle. He bans the third years from club activities instead, until Sawada is wheeled off into an ambulance by the Committee's Emergency Response Division. Then he goes and beats them black and blue. Tries to, anyway.

He remembers throwing the match, because it was rigged to begin with. Because kendo may not be about honor but it is about discipline, and there is no discipline in handicapping an already handicapped competitor. There is no discipline in flaunting a victory against such a competitor.

He remembers realizing, once they pinned him down and wrestled the shinai away before he could do anything serious like breaking bones, that if he did somehow manage to get Sawada and Kyouko from hanging out with each other ever again, Sawada would probably never look at him with those eyes again.

Ever again.

.

.

.

..The fact that he's more concerned about that than he is about the emotional destruction Kyouko would inflict on him in the form of way disappointed looks and teary eyes and slaps on the wrist? Told him exactly who he was jealous of, and what he was jealous about.

He's not sure if he feels any better, knowing.

Either way it's too bad. Too little. Too late.

. . .

Recovery for broken ribs is surprisingly more lenient than recovery for cardiac arrest. Probably.

Kensuke didn't stick around to watch that part.

---

. . .

---

"..How's the house-hunt going?"

"It's.. eh. Mom's been looking up properties since the New Year. She keeps bugging me to go down and check out some of them with her."

In the end Nana had swept into the living room and dropped a bag of cookies in Kensuke's lap. Sent him off with smiles and a kiss on his cheek that turned his face red.

His mom loves the cookies.

"Hey, are you sure it's called Sawada town? I thought that was just a joke up here."

"Everyone around here is calling it Sawada town too. Either that or Sawatta, which honestly sounds weirder, so I'm going to assume it really is Sawada town."

"That's... yeah. So damn weird."

"Yeah. So, hurry up and come down here already, we haven't seen each other in, like, forever."

"I'm too busy, Lan. Hibari got on my case about everything again and now I'm stuck with Sawada. Again."

"Wow, Kensuke, your luck is just- I dunno, horrible? Great?"

Kensuke frowns and peers at his schoolwork. Shitty instructions. "It's awful, obviously. I don't have time to babysit him again. Hell, Hibari's not even supposed to be around anymore! He's in high school already!"

"You really think that's going to stop him?" Lan snorts on the other end of the line. "And why don't you have time? It's not like you're doing anythingelse, I mean, you've dropped basically everything."

Kensuke stops writing. "...How do you even know that?"

"One, Sasaki gives me updates when she's not trying to convince me to sponsor her moving into the community housing down here. Namimori is honestly way better. Two, I still have access to Namimori's forum boards. They never shut up. And three, that's just something you would do, Kensuke, you think I wouldn't know that by now? I've known you 8 years, buddy."

"8 years and you still talk like a guy. Why are you using boku again anyway?" [4]

"It's a new trend, Ken-chan. Everyone's doing it down here, especially the girls. Builds confidence, you know? Plus it helps scare the boys away, haha." He can just imagine her grinning triumphantly, because boys had honestly been the most annoying thing about her coming out in their first year of junior high. Kensuke is a boy, and even he thinks they were annoying. "Well, except you."

"Apparently I have some sort of a crush on a boy, so there's no way you talking like a boy is going to scare me off. If anything I'd blame you for i—"

He stops and slaps a hand over his face in delayed abject horror at the exact same time Lan laughs, sharp and loud in his ear. "I knew it! Oh my god, Kensuke, finally! Haven't I been telling you for years?"

She doesn't sound mocking at all, though. She never has, never does.

He's horrified anyway. This is not the change in topic he was looking for and knowing Lan, she definitely isn't going to let this go.

"Fuck, no, shut up Lan—"

"Oh come on, Ken-chan. You admit to having some Sun-infused infatuation with Kyouko within, like, 10 minutes of meeting her, but you refuse to accept you might possibly like guys too? After you practically admit you're crushing on one? You've been pining for years."

"Sort of crushi— I've been pining for Kyouko!"

"So? Who says you can't sort of crush on and pine for two people at the same time? Two different genders at the same time?"

Kensuke groans like the Yamato on its last legs. He's doomed. His fate is sealed. [5]

"The important question, my dear fledgling double-decker bus—"

"What do busses have to do with this?!"

"—is whether you intend to tell them or not. Well, him, because Kyouko already knows you like her. Are you going to confess?"

"I- I can't confess!"

"Why not? I'm sure this boy would be be thrilled to have an admirer."

"That's not- I just can't, okay! He's not going to be thrilled he'll just- it'll just make things worse. Like, way worse."

"..Why not? Don't tell me it's because you're shy, Ken-chan. You had the guts to try confessing to Kyouko and she turned you down and that's why you got in that huge fight last year, so you definitely have the guts to—"

"It's Sawada," Kensuke hisses, and then startles back from a creak at his door. His heart's pounding again, god. "You know, that guy I had that huge fight with last year? ...Don't laugh, alright?"

"I'm- I'm not laughing, but- wow. Wow, Ken-chan. Wow. That's..." She trails off into a chortle and Kensuke groans again. "So..? What's wrong with that? Sure, he'll probably punch you because you bruised his ribs and all—"

"Broke them. I broke them, Lan. Two of them. And if he punches me he's going to break his hand again."

"Yeah, whatever, okay, you did a doozy on him and you hate yourself for it. You told me. Have you.. you know, apologized yet?"

"Uh... no-"

"Then go apologize! Clear up the bad air. Grovel. Bake him some brownies, whatever. And then when it's all good, you can confess."

"I-" No! "..I can't confess, he- he's not going to want brownies for an apology. He's not a girl, Lan."

"Do you know that for a fact?"

Kensuke stares out the window above his desk. ".. Which... part?"

"Any of it. Do you know any of that for a fact?"

"I- ..No?"

"Then it's settled. Brownies. I'm sure guys like brownies too. You're a guy and you like brownies. I was, and I still do. Tsuna likes sweets anyway, fudge brownies will be perfect."

Kensuke sputters a bit, trying and failing to come up with some retort or logical reasoning to reject this logical idea. Lan hums at him. Hums. At him.

He wilts and slumps over his homework in defeat. "I can't bake."

"I know, you're kind of hopeless without me."

Mmrphrgh. "Just a little."

"It's okay. That's what best friends are for. So it's, what, Wednesday? I'm coming by on Saturday after class. We're going to bake. You are going to apologize to him, preferably that day or the day after so you don't lose your nerve like I know you will, and then if you don't chicken out after that, you can confess too."

"Uh. That's kind of really soon?" Too soon too soon Kensuke is Not prepared- "Also can we not with the whole confessing thing? I really don't think-"

"What? He's not seeing anyone, right? I mean, besides Yamamoto maybe... but Yamamoto's probably cool with it."

"Why would you even think that, Lan."

"You hugged Sawada on the roof last year, remember? Hugged him for like an eternity, and then you came crying to me about it after school. Yamamoto didn't even give you a single bruise for that."

"But I was bruised." He pauses. "..In my heart. Spiritually. I was emotionally wasted."

"...You're such a softy, Ken-chan." She's giggling though. It sounds more like a fond cackle and, wow, he misses talking to her a lot. It's only been a few months, too. He's never going to survive the year without her. "So, really, what's the problem?"

"..Eh." Kensuke clears his throat awkwardly. "Apparently Sawada and I are, uh... SortofHarmonized."

"..Come again? Because I think I just heard you say—"

"We're. Sssssort of... Harmonized."

"..." Lan coughs on the other end. "That's... well. That is. A bit of a problem, yeah..."

"Yeah. I know. I did say it was some sort of a crush. I- I don't even know if it is a crush at all, ugh."

"..And you said sort of Harmonized, too? How do you even—? God, Kensuke, you just get into all this weird shit the moment I turn around, don't you?"

"Wha- I- it's not like I do it on purpose!"

"I think you do! —Sorry dad!" Lan sounds a little distant here. Probably leaning away from the phone. "I was, um. Just. Kensuke's— being weird."

"Rude. Oh, uh, tell your dad I said sorry too."

"Kensuke says he's sorry! Wait- what are you sorry about?"

"Everything?"

"Kensuke says he's sorry about everything? ...Yeah. I will. Oh, I'm going to visit Namimori after school this Saturday. No, I'm not asking, I'm telling, Ken-chan has problems and he needs my help!"

That.. makes him sound about as lame as he feels right now. Lame and confused and so very Not Ready for the weekend.

Kensuke drops his head onto his arms and groans into them until Lan is done negotiating weekend terms with her dad. Kensuke's the whole reason she even had to move down there, so he's not going to risk making it worse.

"..Kensuke? Hey, you still there?"

"No," he says, muffled. "I'm dead."

"Oh. Well.. that's a bummer... So, Saturday?"

Kensuke gurgles nonsense back in response. It sounds a bit like rrghrlrhgl.

"I'll take that as a yes."

---

. . .

---

It's.. honestly really, really weird spending this much time with Sawada. Kensuke can't remember the last time he actually spent this much time with any one person.

It's not like they do it every day. Sawada takes a break every few days, and Kensuke lets the rest of the club take a break every few days too. Sometimes the whole gang is taking a 'break' from club activities, whether coach-enforced or not. Sawada's not even in a club, what the hell. Kensuke thought it was mandatory.

Unless the Committee counts as a club activity. Sawada's only an Honorary Member though. So it's like.. an Honorary club activity, what the hell. That's.. kind of dumb, but whatever. If the Chairman hasn't said anything about it, it's probably fine.

Yamamoto has baseball obviously, Kyouko's on the student council, Kurokawa does... archery? Sharpshooting? She's, like, trying to combine them into one, but not very successfully, because bows plus guns equals bowguns, which is basically like a crossbow and everyone seems to hate crossbows. Kensuke thinks they're kind of cool.

Lan and Sasaki both have permission to hop around until they find something they both like. A lot of the first years and their Buddies are doing that. Kensuke doesn't, because he's Captain and he's Not Giving That Up.

Except Sawada doesn't really want to join the Kendo Club either. He seems violently adverse to joining any club at all.

But if nothing else, he has no problems with coming to the dojo on the off-days for supplementary practice. Kensuke himself is usually too busy watching over the rest of the members to do much practicing himself, so it works out.

Honestly, there's not much of a reason to get good at any sport. Kakishima being what it was, they couldn't really enter any national competitions, though they could consider the Olympics if they really, really wanted to. Sports scholarships are almost nonexistent.

If not for the fact that only the best and brightest nominees had a chance to participate in the annual Hibari-Kokuyo Cops and Robbers game, no one would even bother.

As it is, Kurokawa trying to unite two of the most absurdly huge and similar but otherwise unrelated clubs in every school district is a lost cause. A valiant effort, given that she's already been in one of the Games once, but a lost cause.

One of these days Kensuke's going to join a Game too. After 'join the Committee', 'play in a Game' is just about anyone's childhood dreams.

Well, that and 'watch a Game up close', but only people with Nerves of Steel and Iron Hearts could survive front row seats like that. It's terrifying enough on screen. Awesome, yeah, but terrifying too.

"..You've what?"

"What?" Sawada blinks at him, wiping sweat from his brow. He hasn't even been doing kata practice for half an hour. But it's.. better than the 10 minutes he lasted the first time Kensuke brought him around. "What are you so surprised about, Mochida?"

"...You've been to a Game before?"

"Yes? I watched from one of the dugouts. Twice. Um, last year and the year before. Takeshi's only gone to last year's."

"Who even let you in."

"It was Kurokawa's debut Game! She had some extra tickets for seats because her parents couldn't watch from the bunker, so I went with Kyouko-san and Sawasaga-senpai instead. They thought it was great. We even saw Kurokawa running around a few times."

Kensuke shrieks, but only in his mind. "Kyouko liked it?"

"Well, yeah? Kurokawa's her best friend?"

But it's violent. It's brutal, it's bloody, it's- it's dangerous! Kyouko can't like watching stuff like that. She doesn't even like it when her brotherfights.

..Okay, so maybe she only doesn't like it when her brother fights. Kensuke can kind of understand that. Ryouhei tries to fight a lot. Ryouhei tries to fight everything.

Still.

He barely manges to get his wooden sword up in time to block the otherwise feeble attempt on his head. Sawada frowns and mutters something under his breath.

"Don't attack out of turn," Kensuke says, sliding Sawada's bokuto away from him. "No sneak attacks. It's undisciplined."

"I thought that was Hibari-san's thing." Sawada backs up and takes a stance again. "What does it matter when I attack? Isn't it all the same anyway?"

"How many times do I have to tell you? The kata isn't a match, Sawada. It's for practicing the basic forms and techniques. There's no point in doing any surprise attacks."

"You wouldn't survive a Game without surprise attacks."

Kensuke will... concede that point. But only for a moment, because Sawada's trying to do a tsuki jab at his throat, so he sidesteps it and swats the tip of the bokuto away.

"No throat jabs either!"

"Oh come on, Mochida, you've been having me do the same 3 stances for weeks."

"Because you still suck at them! And tsuki jabs are dangerous, I don't want you learning how to put a hole in someone's neck."

"Like I couldn't already do anything worse." Sawada actually rolls his eyes. If nothing else, letting him join in the kata practices gave him something of a backbone outside of the cluster of people they call friends. And a cheekier mouth.

Sure, most of the second and third years are even more hostile now because Sawada backs down even less than he did before, but Kensuke's always around to make sure nothing gets out of hand. It's fun to watch. Plus, third years can be such dicks, seriously. It's nice, knowing and seeing that he's not the only one with a grudge against them.

(They were jerks to Lan last year, so there's that too.)

"I'm sure you can. You're just a demonic hell-cat, aren't you. Hell-kitten."

"..Did you just call me kitten?"

"Not- not like that! God, Sawada, what's wrong with—" Kensuke falters just long enough for Sawada to land a tap on his wrist. "—That's cheating."

Sawada grins and starts trying to poke him in the chest. He gets to three before Kensuke swats that away too.

"Stop it, Sawada. Your form's all wrong and you're not even trying. That's why I'm not showing you any of the attack form kata."

"But we're not wearing all the armor." Sawada frowns again. "If I actually swung it properly you'd get hurt."

"Yeah, right. Defense for you again. The better you get at blocking hits, the harder I can swing."

"Why don't you just whack at straw dummies then?"

"Straw dummies don't defend themselves, obviously. Actually, neither do you, geez. We've been at this how long and your stances are still awful!"

"I can't help it!" Sawada fumes, though he doesn't stomp like a child throwing a tantrum. "You're taller and all your strikes are higher up- I can't defend that high!"

"I'm 6 inches taller, not 6 feet, it's not my fault you're a pipsqueak." Sawada pokes him in the gut. Sneaky bastard. "I showed you how to block a higher strike, didn't I?"

"I can't lift my arms that high, you giant."

"It's not even that high."

Sawada jabs at him again. Kensuke knocks it away and they get into a jabbing match. More like fencing than anything, and at first Kensuke thinks Sawada's actually getting angry, but then he dances away from another one of Kensuke's jabs with a giggle. He looks so much like a kid and this isnot a game, and yet Kensuke can't help joining in.

Sawada's eyes haven't left him the entire time, clear and bright as Kensuke remembers from those years ago in the daycare's sandbox. Darting back and forth and never letting Kensuke out of sight in a way that's almost unnerving, if it weren't the nth time he's done it by now. He's better at evading the jabs, better at deflecting them than he is at blocking direct strikes. Maybe it's just because he's moving and not standing still, which is honestly kind of the reverse of most people. Most of the kendo members don't bother with footwork beyond the basics.

The only reason Kensuke's keeping up is because he is Captain and therefore better than the other members, and also because Sawada has been doing this ever since he learned there were jabs, ever since he found out that Kensuke didn't really mind the two of them hopping around on the dojo floor after activities were over. It wasn't like Sawada joined in during actual club practice; at least one every few days after seemed enough for him. He hasn't collapsed again since.

It's. Well.

It's fun.

"Captain!"

Kensuke stumbles just a bit. Sawada freezes, all deer-in-headlights again. He doesn't look like he's going to take advantage of it though, so Kensuke drops his stance and turns to see those same two accursed upperclassmen sauntering in, bundled up in thick coats.

"Didn't you tell us to take a break today, Captain?" Morita says.

"Being Captain means extra practice." Kensuke rolls the tension from his shoulders and taps the end of the bokuto on the ground. "Plus, it's warmer. What are you two doing here?"

"Well.. we heard you'd been using the dojo on the off-hours and we wanted to see if we could get a few practice matches in with the Captain. You're always busy during club hours."

"Too busy looking after my troublesome members." He lets out a huff of laughter and shoulders the wooden sword good-naturedly. "Sure, let's go a few rounds. Sawada and I both need some fresh blood."

"Him too?" Saitou snickers, elbowing Morita in the side.

"Well, he needs someone shorter, so I guess you'll have to do, Saitou." The third year scowls and his companion claps him on the shoulder. Kensuke jerks his head towards the changing rooms. "Go get changed. Is mixed kendo okay with the both of you?"

They look at each other, then at Sawada. Morita grins. "Just fine, captain."

Sawada pulls on his sleeve the moment the two third years are out of sight. Pulls a little too sharply for Kensuke to consider it some kind of silly, shy gesture.

When he looks down, Sawada lets out a gurgled sound like cross between a squeak and a growl and startles back, eyes wide. All that playful confidence he had a few minutes ago is just- gone. Wiped clean off his face.

"What? Scared?" Kensuke rolls his eyes when Sawada shakes his head. "Honestly, between you and me, Saitou only joined this year and I think you can handle him."

"I'm 5 feet tall and my arms are twigs," Sawada intones flatly.

Kensuke hip-bumps him over to where they've set down the rest of their armor. "Just swing at him as hard as you can."

"...Are you sure I should-"

"Yes, Sawada, just do it. It's an unofficial practice match. I know you stuck at kendo so just make up for it with whatever else you know. I told you before didn't I? If he sucks enough that you can hit him, it's his fault."

"Wow, gee. Thanks. That really makes me feel better about my twig arms."

Kensuke bops him on the back of the head just once more and puts the bokuto away, grabbing a shinai from his carry-case instead. He helps Sawada fasten his breastplate and helmet and Sawada does the same for him, though Kensuke can't help but snicker because he has to kneel down just so Sawada can comfortably reach the back of his head. Sawada grumbles and shoves him when he's done tying the cord off.

Sawada's just about got his mood and rhythm back from a few practice swings of the borrowed shinai when Morita and Saitou come stomping back in, laughing about something.

"Relax," he says. "I'll go first."

They agree on 5-minute rounds, swapping out after each one. At first everything is spiffy; the first round or two is mostly for feeling each other out, so to speak. Kensuke lets Morita score a few hits to get a feel for his skill, then lands a few of his own. He has power and intensity, for sure. In a real fight, Morita would probably win through sheer strength, even if he isn't bulky. Sun or Lightning, most likely. Or Cloud. Clouds are always absurdly strong.

Saitou is quick, like Sawada. Kensuke has to remind them several times that it's mixed kendo, stop standing like ducks and dance already. But they're both beginners, more or less, so it's not until their third round, half an hour in, that Saitou starts moving in for points. The first few seem almost experimental. A rap on his helmet, a tap on the wrist.

"You're too stiff, Saitou," Kensuke says when their 5 minutes are over. "Relax your arms more, it'll be easier to land a hit. And you, Sawada, land some hits. Do some attacking. Haven't you been bugging me to let you attack some more?"

"He probably wouldn't dare hit an upperclassman," Morita confides with a snicker as they head onto the floor. "Sawada's just a coward in the end."

"Keep talking like that and I'll give him permission to poke a few holes in you, Morita."

"With what? He ain't got balls or nothing."

Morita is still grinning to himself when they take their stances. Kensuke gives him 2 minutes to land 2 points and spends the last 3 rapping Morita on the glove of his wrist as many times as possible. He's not Captain for nothing and, sure, it's petty of him to do that to a beginner.

But, y'know. Whatever.

"He's got more than you do, senpai," Kensuke says idly after they bow and start heading off to the side. Morita huffs and glowers at Sawada instead.

Sawada stares back.

"The hell are you looking at, No Good?" Morita snarls and shoulder-checks him on his way to the benches. He's pulling off the gloves to check on his wrists. Kensuke hadn't even hit them that hard. Baby.

"..I've actually only got the one," Sawada mutters, just loud enough for Kensuke to hear. Saitou too, from the way he's pausing on his way up. "But one's all I need."

"One what?"

But Sawada doesn't answer. For some reason Kensuke feels like he's gone cold and hard, and as Sawada moves the shinai into starting position, Kensuke thinks he sees the kid's hand trembling. And then not.

When Sawada dips into the initial kneel and draws his shinai like a sword, Kensuke can't help but think how graceful.

"..You got a problem, Sawada?" Saito says, clipped. He's already advancing forward and pushing Sawada back towards the boundary line. "What, you think you're better now that you can dance a little?"

"No talking, Saitou."

"He's giving attitude, Captain. We don't stand for that shit."

Kensuke rolls his eyes against his better judgment. "You're in a match. He's not giving you attitude he's just focused."

Saitou lets out a tch! and raises the shinai to snap it down on Sawada's helmet.

Sawada lunges and jabs Saitou in the throat, tipping him back. But the third year doesn't stop like he's supposed to and instead swings down as hard as he can. Sawada's already back and out of reach.

Kensuke doesn't even have a chance to tell Saitou off for showing such a terrible form, because Sawada's jumping in again the moment Saitou gets his balance back. He sweeps Saitou's shinai off-form and raps him on the head. Leaps back. Does it again.

Saitou's face looks a little red under the helmet. He's stomping too loudly and is moving way too much. Even- well, even No Good Tsuna would be able to read what he's going to do next.

Morita's shouting and trying to cheer his friend on.

Kensuke's too busy watching Sawada's eyes. Watching the way he watches Saitou with the same sort of focus and intensity that until now has been something only Kensuke had the pleasure of seeing. And here is their upperclassman treating it like the bane of his existence.

Saitou swings, hard and fast, always aiming at Sawada's head. Sometimes for his side. Kensuke is mildly worried. Would be more worried if Saitou could actually hit him. But even with all the misses, Kensuke feels trepidation rising in his gut, a cold sweat on his brow.

There's about a minute left when Saitou stops, fuming.

"That was a fucking point! I got you in the side right there, Sawada!"

For a moment Kensuke thinks Sawada's going to back down. Concede the point and let it go, because he already has so many points of his own. And it's a practice match, besides. Sawada's usually a good sport. Snippy, but passive.

Until lately, anyway.

"The hell you did, Saitou," Sawada snipes back. "Stop getting pissy just because you can't land a hit."

"Fuck you, Sawada, you snotty little—"

Kensuke leaps between them with a shout and Morita is already there, pulling Saitou back before he can throw himself at Sawada. All Kensuke needs to do is stick an arm out to keep Sawada from trying anything, even though he's still watching Saitou. Like a hawk watching its prey.

"Saitou, I think that's enough. This is a practice match. You riled him up to get him serious and now you're complaining because you can't handle it?"

"You on his fucking side, Captain?" Saitou strains against the arm holding him back. Vicious. "The traitor's your bitch now, is he?"

"Excuse me, Saitou?"

Morita yanking on Saitou's arm and Saitou's snarling are the last things Kensuke hears or sees before he's shoved aside by what feels like a veritable bulldozer, and both of the third years aren't looking at him anymore.

Sawada breaks his shinai over the top of Saitou's helmet and suddenly Kensuke's not looking at them, either. Literally snaps it clean in half, and if they hadn't all been wearing their helmets they probably would have gotten faces full of splinters too.

What happens after is loud. Chaotic. Fast. He never knew Sawada could move like that.

Saitou stumbles back and Morita is the one who charges, outraged, yelling something that Kensuke doesn't quite hear because the moment he lunges, Sawada grabs his arm and throws him over his shoulder where he lands with a loud thump and a cry. It's about that point that Kensuke notices something a little different. Something besides too-bright eyes and a strength too great for that small frame.

There's fire pouring out the top of Sawada's helmet. Like flames licking out the window of a building, curling outwards and flowing up like a waterfall against gravity. He's gotta be imagining it but he can hear it.

Sawada pulls of his gloves and tosses them aside. Pulls off his helmet and tosses that aside, and then he's unbuckling the breastplate, shrugging out of it like a butterfly leaving its cocoon.

Kensuke is too busy watching that calm, calm look on Sawada's face to notice Saitou getting up again. He swings at Sawada's ankles, only to be stopped by Sawada's bare foot stomping down on his hand hard enough to pin it to the floor with a yell. In a fit of clarity, Kensuke grabs the shinai and pulls it away.

It's heavy as hell.

He looks up just in time to see Sawada kick Morita's slumped over body aside. There's a dent in his breastplate and he's wheezing and coughing. Sawada has blood on the knuckles of his right hand, the one with the fingers that doesn't close properly. Red. Maybe white.

The heavy shinai in his hand slips away, and it's not until he sees Sawada standing over Saitou with it raised far too high above his head that Kensuke registers just what exactly it is that Sawada intends to do and—

"Are you fucking nuts—?!" He leaps up and reaches for the shinai with one hand, wraps an arm around Sawada with the other to drag him away. "That's enough, Sawada! Are you trying to kill him?!"

Sawada doesn't struggle, but Kensuke gets a faceful of hair and calm, gentle, flickering warmth and homehomehome for his troubles anyway. It makes him stumble back, blinking light and stars from his vision, and something loud sends him the rest of the way to the ground.

He sees, just a little bit, between the darkness weaving in and out behind his eyelids.

Hibari throws open the door.

Hibari sees Sawada. Sawada sees Hibari.

The flame on his forehead grows bigger, flares out like wildfire consuming everything in its path and Kensuke is practically choking on the smell of it, so strong and clear and indescribably kind.

They lunge at each other.

Then Kensuke blinks and suddenly Sawada's on the ground, Hibari's on the radio, there is no more warmth, no more flames, just cold cold emptycold down to the tips of his fingers and toes.

He blinks again. Kurokawa (when did she even get here?) is crouching next to Sawada and she has her damn revolver pointed down at him, right at his chest—

Lan's face blurs into view, and her voice sounds like it's coming in from far away. "Ken- Ken, are you okay?"

Why is Lan here? She should be with- with the Archery Club today- oh, right. Kurokawa's here too. Meaning Lan must have followed her. And there's Kyouko, and Yamamoto. Why are they were? Why is Hibari here?

"No idea," Lan says, which means Kensuke probably asked that last part out loud, "but if I had to guess, he can probably smell a battle from a mile away. Kensuke? Ken-chan, look at me. Ken—"

Kurokawa shouts CLEAR. Lime green erupts from the mouth of the revolver. Sawada's body jolts.

Kensuke's heart jumps in his chest—

—like it's beating for two.

---

. . .

---

The school roof is.. very high up. Three stories, at least. Plus. Fenced in.

He's been up here before, with Takeshi, just a few weeks after school started. When Takeshi somehow climbed the fence and stood close to the ledge, and Tsuna stood even closer.

Held his hand and refused to let go.

.

.

.

"Don't jump," he said, quietly, like he didn't want to scare him. "Don't jump."

Takeshi looked at him. Confused. Pleading. "I wasn't going to," he started saying, but he didn't get past the first two words, because Tsuna wouldn't let him. Because Tsuna didn't care whether he would or wouldn't.

"Don't jump alone," Tsuna said again. "...I'll jump with you."

Takeshi never stepped off that ledge. Stepped back instead. Pulled Tsuna back with him, pulled them both back over the fence and tried not to hold him too close.

"All I know is how to play baseball," Takeshi said. The cast around his arm kept him from doing much else. "I- I love baseball, I love it, and I want to keep- but—"

It wasn't the first and it wouldn't be the last time. Takeshi was fragile. Takeshi is. Always fragile.

Human beings generally are.

"What do I do if I can't do even that much? I keep getting hurt, I keep- it's been like this since.. since forever. I'm just going to drag the team down like this, every time it's something, and now.. What if- what if one day I can't play anymore? What if I lose the one thing I love the most? What if... what am I without baseball?"

But they get up again, and Takeshi did. Again. And again. And again.

And now-

"You could love something else," Tsuna said, looking up at the boy whose life he probably saved 4 years ago, whose very presence made everything just that much easier to deal with. Looked up and saw no one else, nothing else but Takeshi. "You could love anything else."

And Takeshi looked down at him, who saved his life, who needed him beyond the fact that he could pitch and bat harder and further than any other student their age. Beyond the fact that he did those things to prove that he could, despite it all. Who did not need him for what he could do, but for what he was. Is.

Who he is. Whatever he is, or wants to be.

Everything that he is.

"..You can be mine, Takeshi."

On the field below, the baseball club played a practice game without him. The batter struck deep into the right-field with a resounding crack, and Tsuna leaned against Takeshi's good arm. Twined their fingers together. Gave, instead of took. Let the heat swirl between their palms like a maelstrom, mixing together, until they were both the same. Inseparable.

Takeshi's eyes glowed the next time he looked up, and Tsuna saw a smile in them. He smiled back. Felt Takeshi's heartbeat answer his own.

The tolling of the school bell sounded the hour, and it sounded to him like an early morning death knell.

But for someone else. Not for them.

Not this time.

.

.

.

He has been here before. He knows it.

Knows how to balance his weight now, against the breeze. How to look at the sky without falling over. Knows where the fence is weakest and how to avoid it, keep it from breaking entirely. He hasn't told anyone about that part yet. The weak link. Even though he has known about it for months.

The roof is a very quiet place to be.

Kensuke tells him to get down. Tells him he's going to fall because he's a clumsy idiot and he's going to fall and die.

He calculates it. Distance to drop. Falling speed against mass. Wind speed against possible landing points. How long it would take to reach the ground, what his total force would be when he hits it. How much energy he would need to release to negate that damage to his body, even with the tentative fluttering of his heart that had given out not days earlier. He can do it.

He can do it.

Students mill about inside. He hears their chatter through the concrete, through the glass panes under his feet. What did you get for lunch? Where did Yamamoto go? To the roof. Probably to stop Sawada from jumping, the idiot.

Tsuna laughs, because he can do it. Jump. Survive the fall. He can, he knows this as a fact, and it's wonderful. It feels wonderful.

Don't be ridiculous, he says. He isn't going to die.

He's going to —

---

[1] refers to a scene in takeshi's chapter of (we think) we're invincible, completely unbreakable; where kyouya is alleged to have knocked a kid off the stage for challenging his title of chairman. kyouya was 7.
[2] candela: (italian) candle. plural candele. candela is also a base unit for measurement of luminous intensity.
[3] mixed kendo: fictional. based on the idea of mixed martial arts. kendo that allows physical strikes too, like the chop tsuna was supposedly trying to do in canon during his duel with mochida.
[4] in japanese, there are many ways to say 'i'. 'boku' is an informal form that generally boys use (as opposed to 'atashi' for 'cutesy girls', and formal 'watashi' for both), but girls have started using it too. basically lan speaks more on the masculine side. because she can.
[5] yamato: considered one of the heaviest and most powerful battleships ever built. sunk during ww2. i'd use a titanic references but that's too american. get it? sinking ships? /rimshot

and thus tsuna was No Longer Allowed To Fight.

technically this is the end of the mini-arc, as in no more flashbacks beyond this, but mochida and tsuna still have to figure their thing out. there's another mini-arc to segue into and they can work out their issues during that. i could also throw them in a room and lock the door, but that's a last resort haha

flame stuff is admittedly pretty.. vague. but i'm really just exploring the idea of harmonization from a very, very utterly civilian point of view. as mentioned by reborn in this chapter, few people who are harmonized are willing to talk about it, meaning there wouldn't be like a guidebook that says 'How To Know You're On The Way To Harmonizing With Your Sky!' skies talk about it with each other, at least on kakishima, because it's kind of something only skies/other harmonized individuals would understand, but otherwise it's just weird. it's very hush hush.

nagi keeps disappearing. i wonder where to. hMMmmMmmMmm