XXVIII

Of the Future

Tsubame couldn't stand horror movies, even before she began having nightmares frequently and garishly enough to give a psychologist a field day. She didn't enjoy being terrified or kept in suspense, so it was only natural that her friends' disappearances were starting to eat on her.

Reborn had been the first to go. According to Tsuna, the hitman had been swallowed up by the Ten Year Bazooka right after the party, but instead of switching places with his future self, no one showed up. Figuring his home tutor would return sooner or later, Tsuna continued on his way home.

The next day, a search party was released. The first place Tsubame checked was Fon's food cart, but he was as clueless as she was. When she returned to Tsuna's house as planned, the only people there were Bianchi, Fuuta and Nana.

Gokudera never came home. Neither did Chrome. Tsubame visited the place Ken and Chikusa were staying at, but they hadn't seen her, either. Yamamoto had disappeared on the same day as Tsuna, Haru, and the kids had vanished. The Sasagawa siblings were all that remained of the main group, and Tsubame warned to keep their eyes peeled for any suspicious movement. They didn't question her, the Varia ordeal still fresh on their minds, and told her to do the same.

There were a plethora of theories Tsubame had drawn from what little evidence was available. One: the bazooka was malfunctioning, and the others were stuck in limbo for what could be eternity. It was a terrible proposition, but still better than the others.

Two: both their future and past selves were dead. Being swapped with your corpse and forced to suffocate to death in your pre-determined coffin didn't sound any more appealing than her previous idea.

Three: they were dying. Perhaps their future selves were engaged in combat with an enemy so fierce that, when they switched places, their younger selves were slain immediately.

But where were their future selves? Was the bazooka a weapon only the Bovino could use without consequence? No – Lambo hadn't returned either.

What on earth was going on?

More than anything, it was her ignorance and inability to do anything that was driving her up the wall. Her friends were picked off one by one, and she had no way of fixing or stopping it. She kept her mind off things by working out, but she couldn't be on the move 24/7, and was left with way too much time for her thoughts to overcome her.

Normally, when things began to spiral downwards, she would go bother Gokudera. Since he was….wherever he was, Tsubame went to the other side of flat and visited Shoichi. As there was no hole in their shared wall, she had to resort to putting on her shoes, going outside, knocking, and then heading back inside with her shoes off once more.

The wall between their flats must've been thinner than she thought, because it seemed as if her apprehension had seeped through and latched onto Shoichi as well. It was a nice distraction from her own toxic mind, at least.

"What's wrong?" she asked, stepping into his living room.

Shoichi ducked his head, refusing to meet her eyes. "Do you think I'm a horrible person, Tsubame-kun?"

She tensed. "It depends on what you've done, Shoichi." Although it wasn't as if she had much room to talk. Ken's and Bel's faces flashed through her mind, and her hands twitched minutely, the knives resting on her forearms just itching to be used again.

"It's not like I want to do it," began Shoichi, his squeaky voice cracking with hysteria. "I have no choice, Tsubame-kun. Please know that."

Tsubame stepped back, away from Shoichi and closer to the exit. "What's going on, Shoichi? Are you being threatened?"

"It's… It's complicated," he said, shrinking in on himself. "Please don't hate me too much when you go."

Go? Was he letting her leave? Or was there some other meaning behind his words?

"Shoichi…" Tsubame lowered her voice, softened her tone, much like she would when talking to the stray cat that liked to lurk around the park. "Before you do anything rash, let's talk things out. Whatever it is that's hanging over you, we can deal with it together."

Shoichi appeared to think over it for a moment and, to her relief, nodded. "I just need you to do something for me first," he said, sounding back to normal – which was to say, nervous and a little awkward. It was endearing, really. "I need you to close your eyes and count to ten out loud."

A strange request, but one she was willing to humour in order for Shoichi to confide in her. Her posture loosened as she closed her eyes shut, but she rested her hands on her fans, which were tucked into her obi. Ever since Reborn had disappeared yesterday, Tsubame refused to take any chances and kept her ass-kicking outfit on (as Hana had aptly named it) wherever she went.

Her lips were forming the number "three" when the world went dark. Tsubame's eyes flew wide open, and suddenly, she was no longer in Shoichi's living room.

Everything was pink. There no up or down, no left or right, no proper ending or beginning to the space she was floating through. Rainbow rings surrounded her body like a beam, and she was dragged by an invisible force as strong as ten bulls into something that actually resembled earth.

The pink smoke enshrouding her was her first clue. Tsubame cut through the plumes efficiently with her fans, nearly whacking someone else as she did so. She leapt back, putting some distance between herself and the potential enemy.

A girl with long, black hair tied into twin tails blinked down at her. "Tsubame…chan?"

That voice – it was sweet and clear, like nectar, and oddly familiar. But the face was totally unrecognisable to her. "Who are you?" she asked warily, fans unfolded in her hands.

The girl lifted a hand, and Tsubame prepared for an attack. Instead, she parted a pigtail from the side of her hair, revealing a head of caramel-coloured hair covered in a thin net. "It's me," she said. "Sasagawa Kyoko."

Tsubame's first instinct was to deny her bold-faced lie, but once she saw through the black contacts and wig, the similarities jumped right at her. "No way," she breathed. "I really am in the future."

Immediate threat gone, Tsubame allowed herself to take in her surroundings. She was in a forest so densely packed she could barely see the blue skies above. The trees didn't strike her as unusual, which meant they weren't anywhere too foreign. Then again, her future self could've been anywhere in the world when they switched places.

Well, at least she was alive in ten years' time. That was reassuring.

"What's with the get-up?" she asked, turning back to Kyoko. She was taller by at least a head, her face and body more filled out now that puberty was long behind her. In addition to the wig and contacts, Kyoko was also wearing an outfit perfectly suited for the outdoors.

"I'll explain as we walk," said Kyoko, handing her a backpack that must've belonged to her future self. "It isn't too safe around these parts."

After placing her fans away, Tsubame shrugged on the brown bag. "These parts being…?"

"You don't recognise it?" Kyoko asked, surprised. "You told me you often trained here, back in the day."

At that, Tsubame eyed the forest more closely. It wasn't too much taller than them, maybe three times her height at most, and had trees thick enough to leap from branch to branch, just like… Just like the forest Fon had taken her to ten days before the Varia had arrived.

"We're in Namimori?" she gasped.

Kyoko smiled, but it paled in comparison to the one her past self had shown Tsubame not two hours ago. What had the past ten years done to Kyoko?

"Were you expecting somewhere like Italy?" she asked. "Because we were, you know. Just a few days ago."

Italy was the heart of the underworld, and Tsubame gathered the sense that they hadn't travelled all the way there just to sight-see. "What for?" she asked neutrally.

Since she was a few steps ahead of her, Tsubame couldn't see Kyoko's expression, but the squaring of her shoulders was telling enough. "I'm a…doctor, but in the underworld, I'm referred to as either a healer or a medic. I was ordered to head to the mansion to help the Ninth out."

Kyoko was involved in the mafia – and not just peripherally like she had been ten years in the past. It shouldn't have been too shocking a concept, and yet…

Kyoko peered at Tsubame over her shoulder, a teasing smile dancing on her lips. "Surprised?"

"Kinda, yeah." She laughed sheepishly. "I can't see either Tsuna or Ryohei-senpai accepting your decision too happily."

"Oh, they didn't," assured Kyoko, brushing a low-hanging branch out of the way. "But I'm a non-combatant medic, so it wasn't as bad as it could've been. Deep down, they knew I was in the right."

The foliage was getting thicker now, so much so that not even a lone ray of sunlight could puncture the dense tree-tops. Where were they going?

"Tsubame-chan, I don't know why you've reverted to your teenage self, but I assume it's part of Tsu-kun's plan."

Tsu-kun? "Plan?"

Kyoko huffed in amusement. "He's always trying to keep things from me, but I can see through him like glass sometimes," she said with exasperated fondness, and it reminded Tsubame of the way Tsuna's mum would talk about his dad sometimes.

When Kyoko spoke again, her voice had dropped to a low whisper, as if wary the forest itself had ears on them. "Several days ago, a Family known as the Millefiore declared war against the Vongola. All the bases around the globe have been attacked – hundreds have died already. One of the conditions of being a medic for the Vongola was that I'd have a Guardian with me at all times, which was almost always you, Tsubame-chan."

That made sense. Tsubame was one of the only Guardians who would genuinely, wholeheartedly care about Kyoko, while the others were either her brother or…whatever Tsuna was to her. Love could only get you so far in a fight.

"We were already halfway across Italy when the Millefiore struck the mansion," continued Kyoko, hands trembling slightly. Short as she was compared to her, Tsubame could easily spot the callouses decorating Kyoko's long fingers. A ring sat on her right middle finger, shaped as a medical cross beneath the odd netting covering it up. "Ever since then, we've adopted new identities, forged some passports, and snuck our way back to Japan."

A million questions were on the tip of her tongue, but they'd have to wait. The chittering forest animals that had served as a backdrop to their conversation suddenly dropped, prompting Tsubame to stop and whirl around. Something was coming, but from where? The left? The right?

Up. The tops of the trees were ripped apart by an unnatural gust of wind concentrated directly above Tsubame and Kyoko. They ducked to the side, landing awkwardly due to the packs on their backs, as a mini hurricane whipped through.

Tsubame jumped back on her feet once it passed, paying no mind to the cuts and scratches all over her as she locked eyes with the enemy. He was wearing loose black clothing with weird white pads on his shoulders, but what really captured her attention was the grey fire emerging from his feet. The wispy flames were also wrapped around the blade of his scythe, the cause of the now-bare trees.

"Well, well, well," he said, hovering above them much like Tsuna would when in his HDW mode. "The ring radar picked up one signal, but there are two little kittens to play with."

Kyoko gasped. "Tsubame-chan, you have a ring on you?"

Tsubame ignored her in favour of glaring at the blonde man leering at them from above. "Who are you?" she demanded.

"I'm Jackson of the Millefiore Family – Black Spell, of course," he added, brandishing his uniform at her. "No need to introduce yourself, though. I already know who you are, Vongola's Wind Guardian. You really don't change much in ten years' time, do you?" He raked his brown eyes up and down her figure appraisingly.

If Tsubame could shoot daggers with her eyes, Jackson… Well, he still wouldn't be affected – not with those abilities of his. His scythe rendered all her weapons useless.

"Hand over the Vongola Ring," he said, resting a hand on his hip. "We can do this the easy way or the hard way."

Tsubame bowed her head, allowing her unbound hair to fall around her like a curtain. "Can you run?" she asked Kyoko, her lips barely moving as she murmured.

Kyoko's response was just as subdued. "Yes."

"Go now. I'll be right behind you."

Kyoko hesitated for but a second before taking off. She ran straight past both herself and Jackson, but before he could do more than yell at her, Tsubame drew his attention back to her with a, "Hey!"

She flashed her ring at him. "You want this?" she taunted, moving her right hand to her left as if to take it off and lob it at him. "Go get it!"

With an almighty swing, Tsubame threw what was in her hand deep into the forest and in the direct opposite of where Kyoko was running. Screaming in frustration, Jackson gave chase, not even sparing a moment to strike her as he flew by.

Ten years ago, were she and Kyoko to race one another, the winner would've been Tsubame without a doubt. A decade of fleeing from enemy Mafioso must've done Kyoko some good, since she had been reduced into nothing but a smidge of caramel, so great was the distance between them. Tsubame's short legs were of no help, either.

She didn't need to turn around to know that Jackson had doubled back and was heading her way; she could hear the crackle of his flames as he closed the gap. "You deceitful bitch!" he roared, and he sounded frighteningly close.

A cardinal rule of horror films was to keep your eyes on the path ahead, and never look back. Tsubame's life wasn't a horror movie, but it was damn well close enough, and it was with great trepidation that she glanced over her shoulder, even if it was for just two seconds.

On the bright side, Jackson had stopped trying to undress them with his eyes. They were now narrowed in anger, his hands clenched into fists over the metal pole of his scythe. He was flying so lowly that, if Tsubame stopped and reached her hand upwards, she would just brush his underside.

It was only when she gazed back ahead again that she grasped his reasoning. It was the trees. If he moved any higher, he'd get a face full of sticks and leaves. If their places were switched—if she knew how to manipulate her flames into bootleg jetpacks—Tsubame would've ditched the small forest entirely and taken to the skies. Jackson's scythe could've destroyed the vegetation blocking the way with ease, just like the first time he'd done it.

Unless… Unless he couldn't use the scythe while in motion. That would throw a spanner in the works, wouldn't it? Every time he'd stop to clear the way, she and Kyoko would be that much further from him. It explained why he wasn't trying to attack her; not only would she probably be buried by the fallen trees, thus inconveniencing his search for the ring, she could also just start running to the side in order to dodge his strike.

Although, if things were progressing the way they were, he might just grow desperate enough to attack. Tsubame herself was tiring, which Jackson quickly picked up on.

"I've got you now!" he laughed, and she could feel the heat of his flames as he came up right behind her.

"Tsubame-chan, duck!"

Kyoko had barely finished her sentence when Tsubame dropped to the grassy floor. A chipmunk ran up a tree and launched itself at Jackson's head with the intent of clawing his eyes out. Its fierce hisses and Jackson's cries mingled together to create a cacophony of chaos as Tsubame rolled back to her feet and, much like the chipmunk, leapt at the Millefiore. Whereas Kyoko's chipmunk had sharp teeth and claws to do its bidding, Tsubame had her knives.

It was hard, jumping up and swinging open her fans at the same time, but boundaries were often overcome during emergencies, and Tsubame managed to send some knives into Jackson's person. Most were knocked aside by his scythe, which he was swinging around wildly as the chipmunk continued to wage war on him. The knives hit his torso, but couldn't find any purchase in him, and fell to the floor, the tips dyed red. Tsubame scooped them back up for the sake of round two.

Kyoko's chipmunk squealed in fright as Jackson finally grabbed hold of it. With one tight squeeze, the rodent burst into yellow Sun flames instead of the blood and guts Tsubame had been expecting. It had done its job, though – one was forced shut by the scratches running across his eyelid.

Instead of impeding him, the shallow stab wounds seemed to invigorate him. Jackson released a war cry that simultaneously sent birds flying from their nests and had his flames doubling in size and intensity.

"Vongola!" he howled into the woods. "Stop running like a coward, and come fight me!"

Not waiting for a response, the Millefiore swung his scythe repeatedly in every direction. Groans filled the air as trees were toppled indiscriminately, and Tsubame hopped from tree to tree as she waited for the perfect moment.

Now! Jackson's back was turned to her as jumped off the tree she was perched on. Something gave her away—be it the sound of her clothes flapping in the wind or just pure instinct on his part—and he turned at the last second, his scythe slashing diagonally across her chest, but not before she could sink her daggers into his shoulders.

A spray of warm blood slapped her right in the face, and only the taste of copper on her lips kept her from peeling them back and screaming bloody murder. Jackson's own shrieks of pain almost shattered her eardrums, and she let go of the knives dug deep into his shoulders before he regained his senses and retaliated.

It wasn't like he needed to, anyway. Her chest was on fire, and it felt a lot like the time the Cervello had poisoned her during Tsuna's Sky match. Just like that time, she couldn't move. Unlike then, though, her wounds were external, and if she didn't receive medical attention soon, she'd bleed to death.

Her only consolation was that Jackson was down, too. The pain of his wounds must've been extreme enough to cause him to lose power over his flames. He was lying on his back not three metres away from her, hyperventilating rapidly. Even if he wanted to crawl over and finish her off, there was no way he could fight through the agony to use his arms to prop himself up.

Kyoko rushed over to her, her hands glowing with Sun flames as she kneeled next to her. "Tsubame-chan, I know it hurts, but I'm going to need you to stay awake for just a little while longer."

A mumbled affirmative was all Tsubame could handle at the moment. Kyoko's warm hands lingered above her open wound, and as the minutes ticked by, the pain began to lessen. Jackson had stopped moaning, which either meant he was unconscious or dead. Tsubame hoped for the latter, if only to keep him from contacting back-up to finish off the job.

By now, the pain was less searing and more dull. Kyoko paused in her work to wipe the sweat from her brow using the back of her hand. "You're no longer under threat of bleeding out, but I don't have enough energy to heal it completely," she said apologetically.

"Can I move?" she asked cautiously, not wanting to rip her wound right back open.

Dismay filled her as Kyoko shook her head. "I can carry you," she offered, but they both knew it wasn't a feasible plan.

Tsubame sighed. "Since we're stuck here for now, could you grab my bag? I dumped it somewhere back there when I was attacking that bastard."

"Sure thing."

With a soft grunt, Kyoko heaved herself up and began looking beneath the underbrush for Tsubame's backpack. Tsubame continued to lay on her back and stare up at the sky as she listened to Kyoko rustle through the bushes and fallen trees. The colour of the sky and sunshine were the same, meaning little time had passed despite the eternity Tsubame was personally experiencing.

Less than a minute later, she heard footsteps coming close to her. "That was fast," she said. "Did you find it already?"

"Find what?" asked a deep voice that certainly did not belong to Kyoko.

Tsubame snapped her head to the side, inadvertently smearing dirt on her left cheek. A man with pale skin and ruffled hair peered down at her, eyebrows raised in a silent question. She narrowed her eyes at him. He smirked in response.

"Who the hell are you?" she hissed. It would've been more impressive if she wasn't, in fact, lying prostrate on the ground as he towered over her.

"You mean you don't recognise me?" he asked archly.

Right, she thought, the future. "I could probably see better if you weren't so high up. Take a seat and let me have a good look at you."

The man huffed in what she thought was amusement. To her surprise, he actually lowered himself on one knee, but then all she felt was alarm as he scooped her up into his arms and stood back up again.

"Wha—?" Tsubame shot her arm up to hit the man in the face, but a jolt of pain from her chest sent it crashing back down again. She gasped.

"Sasagawa would've told you not to move," he reminded her snidely. "I've forgotten how bad you used to be at following orders."

The sassy, biting remarks, the steel grey eyes, the black hair… His overall aura was a bit different, and his hairstyle was weird, but there was only one person this man could be. Now Tsubame really wanted to be put down.

Kyoko's expression was one of relief as she returned to the clearing. "You got my S.O.S. after all," she said to the adult version of Hibari.

Hibari nodded. "A team will be here soon to deal with the body," he said, referring to Jackson.

Tsubame flinched. "He's dead?"

"Not yet."

Now that she was being carried bridal-style (Tsubame tried not to squirm at that) it took little effort to study Hibari's face carefully. Like Kyoko's, his face had slimmed down as the last of his babyfat had disappeared sometime in the last ten years. His expression was no less closed off than his teenage self's, but at least he no longer looked like he would bite someone's head off just for glancing at him funnily.

At his chilling reply, his eyes sharpened infinitesimally. The primal part of her brain screeched, a warning for her to get away from Hibari as fast as possible. He was a threat, a predator – the type of man who could slaughter a whole platoon without batting an eye.

But he was Hibari. Ten years did nothing to change that. Deep down, she trusted him.

Instead of fighting it, Tsubame closed her eyes and leaned into Hibari's unexpectedly broad chest. She was asleep within seconds.