Chapter 52: Ready or Not
Squalo's sword had immediately flashed into the spot where the other sword had threatened to cut off Squalo's remaining hand, but Squalo's sword sliced through empty air. Silver eyes locked on the offending sword, but only a classic Japanese shinai lay uselessly on the floor.
"Who are you?" asked a brunette teenager with an idiotic grin on his face, but what caught Squalo's eyes was the unconscious girl in his arms. "Are you visiting Hana? If you are, you should know that Hana can't play those kind of games."
"VOI! Who do you think you are?" shouted Squalo, pointing his sword at the grinning idiot. "I'll kill you!"
"Looks like the boss is going to have two unnecessary death forms," said Mammon with a sigh. "How troublesome. Please make it quick or I'm going to have to start charging you per minute."
"Stay out of this!" screeched Squalo, swinging his sword in the illusionist's general direction.
"I think that Mr. Sword Emperor is touchy because he was bested with a wooden sword," said the idiot prince, earning himself a slice very close to his head.
"I said shut up!" yelled Squalo.
"I'm sorry, but I have to take Hana to my house. Someone's waiting for her there," said the grinning idiot as he stepped on his sword and flipped into the hand under the girl's knees. "So if you could move out of the way."
"Who's going to move?!" shouted Squalo as he lunged his sword at the teen. The grinning idiot managed to block it clumsily, and Squalo's eyes widened at the speed of the movement. Stepping smoothly backwards, the grinning idiot angled his sword to push Squalo's to the side so that he could move around the long-haired swordsman. Without wasting another instant, Squalo sliced at the teen's back, but the teen spun in time to block Squalo's sword again.
"You're really good," said the teen with that same idiotic grin. "We should have a match someday. I'd like to fight you."
"Die!" yelled Squalo as he rained down blows on the teen, which he blocked clumsily and quickly. A heavy side-slice caused the teen to stumble backwards, and Squalo gave another "VOI" cry as he sliced a killing blow downwards onto the teen's head. The blow again sliced through thin air, and Squalo glanced up to see the teen running down the road. "Get back here, brat!"
"Sorry, but we'll have to have our match later," yelled the teen over his shoulder, still grinning. "I have to get back soon or Tsuna's mom's going to worry."
Squalo's blood rushed through his ears and another cry screeched past his lips as he chased after his prey. Squalo was not going to let some idiotic brat get away from him. If Xanxus…no, it was when now, when that idiot Xanxus woke up, he wouldn't let Squalo live down letting an idiotic brat escape after said brat swung a sword at Squalo. A match started the instant a sword is drawn, and Squalo could care less if the sword was wood. The brat had attacked him with a sword, and Squalo was going to drive his sword through the brat's head.
"VOI! Stop running, brat!" screamed Squalo.
"Sorry, but I can't do that," the grinning brat yelled back. "You'd slash at us with your sword and someone might get hurt!"
Someone might get…forget impaling this brat. Squalo was going to slice off the brat's limbs and then use the brat's torso as a pin cushion. He let out another loud yell and lunged at the brat's back again. The brat ducked under the sword's slash but fell onto his back with the unconscious girl on top of him.
"Voi, this time die!" screamed Squalo as he swung the sword to slice the two teens in half. A small hand caught the sword before it could graze the grinning brat's head. Also, Squalo found himself two feet back from where he originally took the swing. "What?! Let go and let me kill him already!"
"Sorry, but I can't grant that request," said the calm voice of the storm arcobaleno. His tiny fingers held the tip of Squalo's sword in place.
"This isn't your business, arcobaleno!" yelled Squalo, trying to tug his sword out of the storm arcobaleno's grip, but although this was the storm arcobaleno and not the famous sun arcobaleno Reborn, the sword didn't budge.
"It is. Both of these children are under my protection," said the storm arcobaleno. "So it would be better for everyone if you would simply tell me what you need. Otherwise, I might have to do more than stop you from killing them."
As he rarely wandered out of Europe, Squalo had had hardly any contact with the storm arcobaleno, but what the freaky baby Mammon had let drop had made Squalo suspect that the storm arcobaleno was a calm pacifist (which meant he was an unfair coward who fought only who and when he wanted to). That idea didn't match the person holding Squalo's sword in place. The eyes glaring at the sword emperor had enough fury to cause Squalo to step back even as the fingers pressed the sword hard enough to warp the metal.
"I apologize," said the storm arcobaleno, loosening his grip a fraction. The sword didn't wrinkle further. His eyes stayed focused on Squalo, and the sword emperor still couldn't move his sword. "I have had a couple of bad days, and I can't seem to control my temper the way I normally do. Hopefully, I will not end up taking out my last few days of stress on you. Are you here to kill one of these children?"
"I wasn't sent here to kill some stupid brat!" shouted Squalo. If the storm arcobaleno was going to kill him, then Squalo would do whatever he could to kill the storm arcobaleno first. But first he needed to make the storm arcobaleno release his sword. "I came to deliver a message to the Nono from the old fart of a boss!"
"I see," said the storm arcobaleno, slowly removing his grip on the sword. However, the arcobaleno's black eyes held Squalo's grey, and the sword emperor's sword continued to hang in midair. "The Vongola Nono is currently in the hotel two streets from here. I suggest you get there before he turns in for the night."
"Che. Like I won't wake up the old man if I have to," said Squalo. He turned to break the paralyzing gaze of the arcobaleno and caught sight of Mammon and the immature prince. "Voi! Stop standing there, we have a hotel to get to!"
"The prince didn't want to interrupt your fight," said Belphegor. "You looked like you were having fun."
Squalo huffed and ignored the prince's babble. He walked towards them and noticed that Mammon was still staring at the storm arcobaleno.
"Stop staring. We need to get to the freaking hotel!"
"Viper. It has been a long time," said the storm arcobaleno. The tone almost sounded pleasant.
"Don't call me that!" cried Mammon. "I go by Mammon now."
"That's unfortunate. Viper suited you," said the storm arcobaleno. Mammon made a sound that might have been a snort, but Squalo didn't care.
"Hotel NOW!" he yelled at the top of his voice.
"So loud," muttered Belphegor, putting a finger in his ear and rubbing it. "The prince doesn't like getting yelled at."
"He's staying at room 321. That information comes at the regular fee," said Mammon. He turned and didn't look back. "He should still be awake."
Squalo shot the prince and Mammon a glare and strode in the direction of the hotel. He most definitely would come back to deal with that grinning brat later. That brat was lucky that Squalo had a mission that could not fail. The storm arcobaleno's anger couldn't hold a candle to the fury that Squalo's true boss would unleash on the sword emperor if he ever found out that Squalo allowed a mere brat to get the better of him. No, that brat would be dead within the week if not less. No one shamed the Varia.
Tsuyoshi had no idea how he had fallen asleep. One minute, he had been watching over Nana as she slept off her worries, and the next he found himself head in hands on the edge of an empty bed. He scratched the back of his neck once before stretching and standing up from the less than comfortable chair. His muscles suddenly tensed as he heard a faint cry coming from the kitchen.
Without hesitation, he headed out the door to the room and down the stairs. In the middle of the kitchen, Takeshi stood holding a limp Kurokawa. Nana had a hand to the girl's forehead, and Fon stood watching the three from a counter top.
"Are you sure we don't need to take her the hospital?" asked Nana, shifting her gaze off limp girl and over to Fon.
"Hana-chan has mentioned she has a condition that causes her to have a lower threshold of pain. She has only cuts and bruises, but the combined pain of those apparently caused her to fall unconscious," said Fon. "She should be fine with a little rest."
"Hana-chan is an EXTREMELY strong person!" yelled a boy from the other side of the restaurant. He held a mop in his hand and had thrust it up in the air. "She EXTREMELY wouldn't need the hospital!"
"So you know her too, Ryohei-kun?" said Nana.
"She's my sister's EXTREME best friend," yelled the loud boy.
"Well, I'd still rather be sure. Takeshi, take her up to my bed. I would like to see for myself that she's not too injured," said Nana. She turned, and her face lightened as her eyes fell on Tsuyoshi. "Oh, Tsuyoshi, you're up. Do you think you are awake enough to help Takeshi take Hana-chan upstairs? Ryohei-kun, please finish cleaning and go home. Your sister and mother will worry if you are not home soon."
"I EXTREMELY will!" yelled the boy before thrusting the mop onto the floor and pushing it forward so hard that he almost knocked over some tables. Tsuyoshi glanced over at Nana, and she smiled at him and shook her head slightly before sending a quick look at Takeshi.
Following her gaze, Tsuyoshi nodded. Takeshi's muscles were trembling under the strain of carrying the girl even though the boy's face didn't show signs of any strain. Taking a couple of large steps forward, Tsuyoshi moved over and took the girl out of Takeshi's arms.
"Go on ahead. I'll need some help pulling back the covers and getting her comfortable," said Tsuyoshi.
"Right," said Takeshi overly brightly as he hurried up the stairs. Tsuyoshi followed his son carefully, the weight in his arms reminding him of his age despite the vigorous training that he and Takeshi had been going through the last few weeks. Perhaps it was time that Tsuyoshi put some more serious effort into training his own body instead of just Takeshi's.
His arm muscles held until he placed the Kurokawa girl on the bed after which Tsuyoshi could not control the small, thankfully brief tremor that ran through them. Takeshi had done his job of pulling back the covers, and soon enough Nana had a bowl of water next to the bed and a wet rag in her hand.
"I'm going to need you two to leave," said Nana with a sweet smile that Tsuyoshi was learning to associate with unspoken command. "I want to make sure that Hana's completely all right, so it would be better if you were both outside the room."
"Of course," said Tsuyoshi. "If you need anything, just call."
"I will," she said, the curve of her smile gentling as her eyes glittered. "Thank you."
The two words spread warmth through Tsuyoshi's chest as they communicated more than they said. Tsuyoshi grinned widely at her, knowing that anything he could say wouldn't match the emotions of those two words, and he ushered Takeshi out of the room. For a second, he stared at the door, marveling at the woman on the other side of it. She and Mako would have been the best of friends, and somehow Tsuyoshi could imagine the combination of both women managing the restaurant and the children and him without a problem. Both his Mako and Nana had spines of steel and kind hearts, though they both showed them in different ways.
"So what happened," said Tsuyoshi, turning back to his son. Tsuyoshi's eyes sharpened, but the grin on the man's face faded instead of disappeared. "Did the Vindice return or was it another famiglia?"
"I think they were part of the old boss's famiglia," said Takeshi, his hazel eyes still focused on the door. "Fon knew them."
"They were the Varia," said Fon, appearing next to them. Tsuyoshi's friend had never lost his touch, but lately he seemed more sharp…more focused. But then, they had nearly lost Tsuna. And if Tsuna didn't come out of hiding soon, the people waiting for Tsuna would only get more sharp and worried.
"Varia? What's that?" asked Takeshi. "Something to do with the old boss's famiglia?"
"Yes," answered Fon. "They are part of the Vongola. Specifically, they are a group that deals specifically with assassinations. Or so people say the purpose was when it first started. Since the Cradle Incident, the Varia has gone under new management, and there have been rumors of a slight change in the way they operate. They are still undoubtedly an assassination squad, but some say they have started taking high profile, delicate missions for the Nono's eyes only. Those who say such things imply that the first few of these new missions didn't end well."
"They didn't." The new voice caused Tsuyoshi's fingers to inch towards the knives he had taken to hiding in his sleeves. The sun arcobaleno stepped out from a shadow and into a dim patch of light. "Did you find out why they are here?"
"They mentioned getting a message from their boss to the Nono. I directed them to his hotel, and apparently Viper already had the key."
"Viper is with the Varia," said Reborn flatly, but the sun arcobaleno obviously meant it as a question.
"I was not entirely certain it was him, but his reactions to me gave him away. He must have some new device that keeps our pacifiers from reacting," replied Fon. Tsuyoshi put on a wide grin as he prepared to jump into the conversation. His son beat him to it.
"Are these guys going to try to go after Tsuna too?" asked Takeshi, putting his arms behind his neck.
"I don't know," said Fon. "They didn't appear to have any interest beyond finding the Nono, but then they wouldn't have let us know if they were after Tsuna."
"Dame-Tsuna is still hiding with that man. Even with Viper, they would have a hard time finding him," said Reborn.
"Still, the situation would be better if we found him first," said Fon turning his full attention on Tsuyoshi. "Did you happen to know where I-pin has gone?"
"No, I'm afraid not," said Tsuyoshi with a bashful grin. "I'm apparently so old that I fell asleep in the middle of the afternoon. I believe Takeshi was watching the kids."
The full strength of the two arcobaleno's gazes fell on Takeshi who flinched slightly under the pressure.
"Actually, Fuuta came to visit a couple of hours ago, and I-pin and Lambo went over to play at his house," said Takeshi with an attempt at a grin. A displeased grunt came from the sun arcobaleno. "I guess I should have asked where Fuuta lives."
"He's staying with Lancia," said Reborn. "Who is staying at Kawahira's place."
"So I guess we're back where we started," said Tsuyoshi with his own wide grin. "I suppose we'll simply have to wait until Tsuna comes back."
"When he does," growled Reborn. "He will find himself in the worst version of hell."
"Don't you mean training, kid?" asked Takeshi.
"No," said Fon, and the casual tone caused Tsuyoshi's tight grin to slip briefly. "He means hell."
A shiver ran up Tsuna's back, and Tsuna had an unexplainable urge to hide under his covers and never come out. Unfortunately, I-pin had made him promise to come back with Takesushi with her.
"Mamma and Master are worried," she had said in a tone Tsuna was certain sounded a little too much like Shishō. "哥哥' come back now."
Taking a deep breath and reminding himself that he couldn't avoid facing his mother and Shishō and Reborn forever (though he might want to in the case of the last), Tsuna got up from the bed and moved to change out of the pajamas Kawahira had lent him.
"So you're finally ready to go. Or at least you think you are. I am not so sure," said Kawahira, appearing in a corner of the room. "Here. I washed these for you."
Carefully, Tsuna took the Northern Kung Fu uniform out of the man's hands.
"Thank you for your help, Kawahira-san," said Tsuna with a polite bow.
"I thought we were past things like this," said the smiling man. "What happened to Uncle Kawahira?"
Tsuna stiffened and avoided the man's sharp brown eyes. His cheeks warmed as discomfort and shame fought for dominance over his emotions.
"I'm sorry," said Tsuna softly, hoping the man understood what he didn't say. "Thank you for all your help, Uncle Kawahira."
"It's alright," said Kawahira with a soft grin. "I wanted to show you something."
Wordlessly, Tsuna followed the older man down the hall and into one of the other rooms in the shop. Tsuna recognized it as one of the first rooms he had entered in a time that felt so long ago. Back when Tamaki wasn't missing and Iemitsu…
A strange, fuzzy touch caused Tsuna to squeal and jump up in the air.
"I was beginning to wonder when you'd show up again, Mugetsu," said Kawahira. "You've been away too long. Dream guarding shouldn't tire you out so much."
The long fox-like snake made a soft sound and then rubbed Tsuna's cheek once more. With an expression that might have been a smile on his face, Mugetsu slithered into the air and coiled around Kawahira's neck. Kawahira's long fingers stroked Mugetsu, and the little strange animal leaned into the touch.
"Do you remember this?" asked Kawahira. His hand rested on a glass case next to a familiar orange statue. Tsuna stared at it for an instant. He did remember it. He hadn't forgotten it. For some reason, Tsuna couldn't forget it. Now that he saw it again (it had mysteriously disappeared after the first time he had seen it), he realized the memory of it had been stored carefully in the back of his mind, as if waiting for him to encounter it again.
Like the last time, Tsuna moved close, barely keeping his hands at his sides. He couldn't, no shouldn't, reach out to the coiling dragon. If he did then…then…something would happen.
"I didn't think it wise to properly introduce you last time," said Kawahira. "He has been upset and angry for a long time, and I wasn't sure how he would react to you. He has quite a strong pull. He was already pulling himself into your heart, and I wasn't certain he wouldn't destroy it. After all, he has very good reason to be angry with people like you."
"People like me?" whispered Tsuna, refusing to get any closer to the coiling dragon. Its fangs stood out sharper this time, as if ready to tear into the flesh of Tsuna's face. With quivering legs, Tsuna took a step back and nearly tripped. Vaguely recalling all of Shishō's lessons on balance, Tsuna managed to stay on his feet.
"Don't worry," said Kawahira, and Tsuna thought he heard a hint of amusement in the older man's tone that hadn't been there before. "He's been watching you."
Somehow, those words didn't make Tsuna feel better. Instead they made Tsuna want to turn around and run out the door. As strange as Kawahira was, he had never creeped Tsuna out, but now Tsuna realized why Gokudera had described him as the creepy albino. Or perhaps Tsuna wanted to run because part of him still wanted to reach out and touch the dangerous statue who according to Kawahira was also a stalker. Or perhaps Tsuna had been spending too much time with Gokudera and Gokudera's paranoia was rubbing off on Tsuna.
"Don't worry. He was only looking for a way to ensnare your heart," said Kawahira, and Tsuna took another step back. "He would have succeeded if I hadn't kept him out of your sight. However, I think it's come time for you to meet. Mostly because Mugetsu is worried about you."
"W-what does that mean?" asked Tsuna as he fought back every urge to run. The heat wasn't flaring, but honestly Tsuna didn't care. He'd rather run just in case.
"It means what it means. So ready to meet your new friend?" asked Kawahira. Tsuna had no idea how the man could call a strange statue that wanted to ensnare Tsuna's soul a "new friend," but Tsuna decided that he should go straight to Takesushi and take his chances with whatever Shishō and Reborn had planned. "You needn't worry. He'll agree to be yours if you convince him. Consider it a test."
"A-a test?" asked Tsuna, taking another step back.
"Yes. Except luckily for you, not the paper kind. All you have to do is touch his jaws," said Kawahira, and as if to demonstrate the point the jaws gleamed. The sharp teeth curved into a snarl, ready to take a chunk out of the next hand to come near them. Or the whole hand. Tsuna bit back a frightened squeal as he backed away further. Part of him tried to struggle through the sudden terror that coursed through him, remind him that a statue was nothing to fear.
And then the orange crusted eyes glowed. No, they appeared to glow under the light, his sanity insisted (Tsuna was surprised he had any left). Still, whatever the phenomenon was, it grew brighter, and Tsuna's whole form shook. Those unreasonably bright eyes stared straight at Tsuna (had the thing moved?) and made the jaws look like they would swallow Tsuna whole with their smirk (it hadn't been smirking before!). Later Tsuna would feel shame for what happened next, but at the moment he barely registered the feeling of his knees buckling under him.
"Maybe I was wrong," came Kawahira's voice from some place far in the distance. "Perhaps it was too soon. I had thought that he could aid you in rescuing your brother, but if this continues, he will end up consuming your heart."
Aid in rescuing your brother…An image of darkness and memory of faint whispering voices, of Tama-kun's voice, bounced around Tsuna's mind. Taking a shaky but deep breath, Tsuna pushed himself upright.
The glowing eyes dimmed slightly, and Tsuna took a step forward. A faint, soundless roar sounded from the gaping jaws and made Tsuna's whole body vibrate with a sickening dizziness. Tsuna took another step, and the eyes glowed with a brighter intensity. Tsuna reached out his hand, and an almost audible snarl sent a shiver of fear up Tsuna's outstretched arm. Tsuna's fingers brushed one of the vicious teeth, and suddenly Tsuna cried out in pain.
"…stupid primarian."
A/N: Yes, that is the end of the chapter. I know what you are thinking. Two author's notes! Something must be wrong. Actually, in this case, it is something right. You guys have elevated this fic to 3K+ reviews (that I wish I could respond to), and I am so grateful. Honestly, back when I first posted this fic, I thought I would be lucky to get over a hundred. That it had so many...I can only work hard to try to keep the story at a level high enough to deserve the honor you have bestowed upon it. As a small token of my amazing gratitude, I offer this extra fanon-compliant (at least More Than No Good fanon compliant) oneshot. May God bless you all.
Bonus Oneshot:
The Nail that was Wanted
Giotto placed the paper on the proper stack automatically and proceeded to scan the next one. The image of silky brown strands stuck together with red globs over imposed the words, and Giotto closed his eyes and rubbed them. Five days had passed since then, but these scenarios kept cropping up and would not allow Giotto to finish his work with his usual efficiency. If this continued, G would force Giotto to go to Japan with Asari in an attempt to clear Giotto's head. And Giotto wouldn't be allowed back until he could go a week without "phasing out" as Lampo called it. Vongola couldn't be without her leader, not now. After what had happened, what they had attempted and succeeded, they needed to give the appearance of being as strong as ever. Any signs of weakness and they might be attacked for their presumption. The Vongola was too new a family to go around eliminating entire famiglie.
Giotto wished she was here. If she was nearby, where he could see her, perhaps the images of what could have happened, of what did happen, would cease to torment him. But the deal with that man was too important to risk. If the deal fell apart, the entire Vongola famiglia could be put in danger.
"Sir?" said the quiet voice of Giotto's secretary Leopold. "There is someone who claims he has an appointment and wishes to speak to you."
Putting the paper down, Giotto focused on Leopold. The balding man was Giotto's secretary for many reasons. Leopold could hold his own against almost any visiting Mafiosos, could make sense of the most chaotic filing system, and wouldn't let Giotto out of the office until all the paperwork was finished. The last thing was done per G's orders, and Giotto often wondered how the redhead man could call himself Giotto's best friend. But the point remained that Leopold was near unshakeable, and Giotto had certainly tested the man's unnatural steadiness. The snake in the older man's desk had merely resulted in a larger pile of paperwork, most of it redundant forms that Leopold usually removed. And yet Leopold's hand seemed unsteady as it detached itself from the door. Only one person could have had that full an effect on the normally stoic secretary.
"Let him in," said Giotto. Better to let him in now then try to refuse. That man never could take no for an answer.
"Told you I had an appointment," said a cackling voice. A figure wrapped in a long cloak made of animal skins entered Giotto's office. The large bone necklace made clicking noises as the cloaked figure threw back his head, laughing loudly in the middle of the doorway. Leopold inched away from the figure and disappeared into the other room. The figure bent forward still letting out his cackling laugh, and Giotto could feel his dying will fighting to surface. Giotto had no doubt at whom the figure was laughing, and deal or no deal, Giotto was fighting not to put a flame-engulfed fist in the man's faced. After all Giotto had done, all he had had to give up—"Now, now. No need to put on that face, Vongola Primo."
"There is no reason to have a fit of laughter in the middle of my office," replied Giotto. "And it is Vongola or Vongola don. As things are, there is no guarantee that Vongola will survive past this generation."
"Worried about your mist guardian or the other famiglie?" asked the figure, sinking into the chair on the opposite side of the desk from Giotto.
"What do you want?" asked Giotto, moving the paper he had been trying to work on aside.
"You shouldn't worry so much. For all his stupidity and faults, your mist won't let anything happen to this famiglia. At least nothing that will threaten the Vongola's existence," said the figure, completely ignoring Giotto's question.
"Either tell me why you are here or leave, Talbot," snapped Giotto, his palms pounding down hard on the desk and causing some of the papers on the top of the piles to float to the ground.
"No need to lose your temper, my dear Vongola Primo," replied the figure. He let the hood fall back from the cloak, revealing a face with several wrinkled folds forming over the cheeks, on the forehead, and under the chin. A scrap of cloth hid the man's eyes, and what little hair the man had stuck up in ridiculous black spikes. "Cianna would certainly not be impressed."
"She's not here," said Giotto, the words coming out less harsh and more petulant.
"I wonder how several of Vongola's various allies and enemies would react if they saw the great and powerful Giotto sulking," said Talbot. "I am sure I would make a pretty lira if I sculpted several pendants with your current expression. A reminder that the Vongola boss is also human would make quite a few lire, especially from your enemies."
"I am not sulking," said Giotto. He flinched at the whininess of his tone.
"Sure you are not," said Talbot in an obvious patronizing tone. "Just like Cianna is not."
"If she is, then it's all your fault," said Giotto, wishing he didn't act so childish around this man. But then, not even Cianna knew how old Talbot was, and the man often felt like the grandfather Giotto had never known.
"I brought you a present," said Talbot, before rubbing his chin. "Or rather, I brought you eight."
Giotto crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, unwilling to play along and ask what the presents were. Though a present from the world's best metal-worker would probably be nothing short of amazing, and Giotto always enjoyed seeing Talbot's inventions. But everyone came with a price. The very ring he wore, along with each of his guardian's, were a "present" from Talbot, and for small things, they were a heavy burden.
"Come here," said Talbot. "Speaking to you across the desk is too hard."
Sinking deeper into the chair, Giotto made his intent to stay right where he was clear. Suddenly, Giotto stood from the chair. He couldn't stay in the chair. It felt wrong, and then he took several steps away from the chair and towards the blind man. Giotto tried to take a step back, but he felt a shock propel him forward. His mind insisted that the best, safest place would be right beside Talbot. Giotto's legs moved faster, gaining an itch and then a blessed blankness in sensations as Giotto sat at Talbot's feet.
"Pretty clever, eh? And it's just one part of your gift," said Talbot.
"What did you do?" asked Giotto, horror underlining his voice.
"Made you do as I asked with this," said Talbot, a glittering object dangling from his hand. "But of course, that's not the only thing that this can do. Mostly, it can be used as an amplifier if the one holding it is a sky flame user like you."
"I see little use for such an object," said Giotto, his voice and expression flat. As the boss of a Vongola, he couldn't let his horror show. A chuckle told him that he hadn't fooled the craftsman. The chuckling old man tossed the glittering object to Giotto, who caught it reflexively.
"Do not worry. I give this to you knowing that you would never use it carelessly," said the old man with his annoyingly amused grin. He tossed six more items onto the blonde man's desk. "Mind you, it has other uses as well. It's the only one of the objects that can't be used by other flame users. Of course, it has its set-backs, like the fact it can drain a person's flames, specifically the user, and give it to another. But then the user's heart has to be mostly willing. Mostly isn't entirely, but a moment of weakness would do, and then the user's flame's entirely sucked away unless the recipient chooses. The whole situation's unlikely, but I should warn you. In case you would like to use it on your heir or something of that sort."
"I'll keep that in mind," said Giotto tonelessly. He tightened his grip on the object in an effort to keep from shoving it and the rest into a drawer where no one would ever see much less use them.
"Now, now. There is no reason for that sort of look. They are a gift," said Talbot with a smile full of teeth and gaps.
"A gift that could cause the whole underworld to descend into chaos." Giotto could feel his eyes burn and glow orange.
"Only if you carelessly use them. But if you were truly careless, then I would not be able to have entrusted you with those rings. Or with the eighth part of my gift."
"Feel free to keep it," said Giotto in as even a close to even tone. If the object had had sharp edges, they would have torn into his palms.
"I would. But she doesn't want to be kept. Wouldn't stop moping and let me do my work," said Talbot.
"Amore mio." The word lighted through Giotto's whole body. His eyes burned with a new warmth, and he found himself across the room inches from the word's originator.
"Cianna," whispered Giotto. His hands hung midair, and a duo of small, slender hands caught one of Giotto's.
"Io sono tuo," she whispered.
"Like I said," said Talbot. "She didn't want to be kept. Not even by her own father."
"Every daughter must leave her father at some point," said the lovely woman standing in front of the frozen Giotto. He took in her unruly brown hair and all-too pale skin. The dark bags did little to highlight her full, large brown eyes, and her small nose squeezed in between her long narrow cheeks. The full brown eyes lurched away from Giotto's sky blue and landed on the ancient-looking man. "And I could leave you for a much worse man."
"No one's leaving anyone yet. He hasn't accepted my entire gift," said the old man with his crackly smile. "After all, you're only half of the eighth gift. The other half isn't so savory, so he might—"
"Sposami," said Giotto in an intense but quiet voice, staring straight into his Cianna's eyes. Those full brown eyes jerked back.
"It is very rude to interrupt your elder when their talking," said Talbot. His crackly smile sparked. "I am trying to warn you."
"Giotto—" Cianna started to whisper, but a cough cut her off. "I can't—"
"I don't care if I ever have an heir. I plan to make Vongola strong enough to survive with or without my lineage. My legacy will be more than blood," aid Giotto. He could see his orange glowing eyes reflected in hers, and then the orange mixed with the slight addition of red. He smiled. "Sposami?"
"Io sono tuo," she repeated as she pressed her head against his chest, sandwiching his hand between them. He wrapped his free arm around her.
"E senza di te non sono niente," he replied.
"So sweet I feel my last few teeth rotting out," said Talbot. Giotto sent a glare at the old man over Cianna's shoulder, but the glare fell short of its target as a grin molded near Giotto's heart. "I hope you don't regret your decision. As it is, I will go make the preparations."
The worst case scenario had Giotto tensing despite his fidanzata. "G will not allow the wedding to occur if he does not plan security, Knuckle will knock me out if he isn't given charge of the ceremony, and Elena would do worse than kill me if I did not allow her to do everything else."
The old man's smile cracked completely open into a loud barking laugh.
"Primo, if you think I will do anything to aid this wedding, you are a worse fool than your enemies assume," said Talbot. "No, I am going to prepare for our move to your mansion."
"Our?" squeaked Giotto.
"I did try to warn you, Primo. The other half of the eighth gift was me. I plan to keep a close eye on my daughter's happiness," said Talbot, his laugh condensing back to a toothy toothless smile. "She is leaving me. I am not leaving her."
Blood and warmth melted out of Primo's face. Only the release of his hand and then encirclement of his waist distracted him from his stomach's trip to the floor.
"It's really a good thing, amore mio," said Cianna. "He and his work would be exclusive to Vongola. And since I am to be your wife, no other familigia could start a fuss over it. And—"
A cough jerked her body away from him, and Giotto ignored his stomach in favor of his heart. He took hold of the hand she had finished coughing into and brought to his lips.
"The only advantage I gain from his close alliance," said Giotto sincerely, "is here in front of me."
Red spotted and splotched Cianna's cheeks. Giotto wrapped her in his arms and tightened his grip. Her bones stuck his skin and reminded him that her father had every right to distrust Giotto with the old man's treasure. Giotto had failed her once already.
