Disclaimer: I don't own them. They just like to take the residence, time ideas and my patience along with creative juices to feed themselves, like some kind of mini-vampires.

Shout Out: Yet another one finished. Tired, but harsej the pink dog once again managed to make me laugh with their renditions of the drawn scenes from the first chapter. Really, thank you, I needed the amusement, especially when writing that little beast here. On that note, we are closing in on the Fourth Grail War arc, but not without some fireworks thrown in from the KHR side before it actually begins.

Shout Out 2: Thanks for notification about mixed up names Aria/Luce. I've been writing that at a ghost hour and didn't notice it. So thanks again!

Warnings: AU on multiple scales, Fon being particularly uncharitable and Harry gets another weird friend/stalker on his tail. Not beta-read, so excuse any grammar mistakes.

Dictionary: Fon literally needs that section for himself right now. Yes, he has a mouth on him. Sorry, not sorry.

Nǐ tāmāde - you bastard (really, this is a milder translation of the original phrase here, but for the sake of young(er) eyes…)

Aiya - hey/ oh / oh no - this phrase is very flexible so it can have different connotations

gǒushǐ - dog shit

tāmāde - bastard

Jiàn tā de guǐ - damn, literally 'see your ghost', (Dammit/bloody hell , English connotations, but not exactly close to the Chinese turn of the phrase.)

gǒucàode - dog-humping. General profanity

Dio mio - my God (Italian)


I'm just a step away
I'm just a breath away
Losin' my faith today
(Fallin' off the edge today)

I am just a man
Not superhuman
(I'm not superhuman)
Someone save me from the hate

('Hero' by Skillet)


Love is said to be the greatest force in the universe. Hate is said to be the greatest motivator. Life is said to be single most precious possession, and death was regarded as an inevitable end to all things.

Time and patience are the necessary ingredients to make something precious out of worthless ore.

But time was running out. Love ran out long time ago, replaced with hate and derision. For things to live there had to be a sacrifice to death.

Stupid humans.

Stupid humans with their ignorance and thirst for knowledge and even more idiotic plans.

The easiest way would be to erase all of them and then letting nature take its course. It would be so, so very easy, too.

But Balance had to be adhered to, along with Promise.

And... of course. Stupid Balance. Yes, with capitals.

Everything had been in Order - or as much as it ought to have been - once upon a time. He had protected Her with his comrades and his beloved, to keep Her from eradicating humans as it were. They have been fairly successful at the task, but Time had been an enemy even they, as strong as they were, couldn't outmatch or outrun. Not to mention the increasing stupidity of the human race overall.

Sometimes he wondered whether all that technology hadn't enabled humankind to become stupider with each and every new invention coming their way. Of course, life was easier with those inventions, but for what price?

No. Stupid question. Humankind was self-destructive anyway - it was just his goddamned luck to have been caught in their oncoming struggle with balancing the World that way.

Now, he was the lone one to Keep the Balance, shitty thing as it was, which was a very ungrateful job, what with him having to carefully work around those Guardians that came every once in a while to indiscriminately mow down the worst offenders and thus extend Humanity's lifetime for a little bit more.

Sometimes, he wondered just why was he still getting out of the bed come morning. Or afternoon.

Oh. Yeah. Ramen. A food of gods. That, and he was sure her ghost would haunt him into his un-life if he dared to slack in his duties.

It would be so, so easy to give into hate, to say fuck it all and let the world go to the dogs. It was heading that way, anyhow, no matter his struggles with keeping it the fuck away from it, like it was some unruly toddler with a thirst to poke at those pretty flames. Or something.

A week more, and the next generation would begin the circle anew.

Only, he received a notification about one of his... employees being a tad bit bent out of shape.

An understatement of century. He sighed a weary sigh as he ruffled his hair while absentmindedly waiting for his ramen to be done. It was a three-minute slop, which he wouldn't have eaten in normal circumstances, but circumstances were anything but normal, and somehow he would have to deal with this latest clusterfuck for his plans to proceed smoothly as usual.

Not that he wasn't used to things going pear-shaped at the last minute. In fact, these kinds of shenanigans were somewhat enlivening his existence, rare as they were. Those instances when they found out about the true meaning of being The Strongest never got old, but at the same time... he got tired of it.

All that drama. See, that's why he didn't put up recruiting posters with kittens and puppies to promote that shtick. All that whining and cursing was becoming dull, really. One of his secret hobbies - once upon a time - was to hide and record all the curses the idiots in question aimed at his person, but honestly, his hobby, as questionable as it was, lost its' flavor all too quickly, what with the curses being too repetitive. Honestly, not an iota of imagination among the lot. Suppose it was because they were humans, even as strong as they were, but... humans. Absentmindedly, the man splashed the water on his face to break away the latest dregs of sleepiness clinging to his mind.

Dull dark brown eyes glared at their mirrored counterpart as the white haired man stared into the glass surface, his lips thin and face youthful, not betraying the sheer number of years heaping themselves onto his shoulders.


Harry was humming a small ditty under his breath when he browsed through the supermarket aisles; Xanxus following him two steps behind, glaring at everyone who even dared to come three steps to his turista. Harry was trying to ignore him. Really, he did, but whatever Harry's three friends told him - the traitors - apparently changed Xanxus into some kind of a mini-guard dog in a kiddie shape. Harry could swear Xanxus was growling when one of those old grannies passed by and Harry helped her with finding mascarpone cheese. Honestly! She was, what at least in her seventies, but Xanxus glowered at her as if she had shaved his head bald or something. Xanxus' Flames, or as much Harry could feel them, were akin to a constantly pissed-off tiger cub with lion's territorial behavior thrown in. To deter any accidents (yeah, right, accidents,), Harry busied his little bodyguard with heaping many things upon his skinny arms. Vegetables - Xanxus wasn't happy, but he was appeased only when Harry passed him steak meat to guard, and there was a pan and six glasses in small cartoon, along with milk and spices.

However calm he was, it was only a façade. Harry forced himself to keep a carefree smile on his face as he carried his own load of grapes, coffee and tea while he pondered whether to take cheese or not. He had been feeling that gaze on him ever since they had entered the shop and while it wasn't in any way, shape or form intrusive, it was certainly annoying, especially when it followed them practically to each and every corner and turn. It was making Harry twitchy, like it used to whenever he had been in Hogwarts after every failed - or successful - adventure, depending on the turn of happenings. Finally, he had had enough and strode to the checkout.

A careful perusal of conveniently placed mirrors at the checkout - Harry didn't know why there were mirrors in the shop, but he blessed their existence anyway - revealed an ordinary throng of people minding their own business and a white-haired man with his own armload of …. Were those instant cups of ramen?

Harry couldn't help but glance back at the man. Yup, still the same scene. White-haired man with dark eyes and glasses, similar to his old ones, but on his nose, they looked more elegant, if there existed such a thing, and hoarding veritable mountain of those silly cups and still staring at him, as it was a completely normal thing to eyeball someone for a prolonged time without, you know, contacting the eyeballed person.

Harry scowled. Rude. Aunt Petunia would definitely be the bestest buddies with such a person, and they could exchange their numbers and newest gossip about what goes around in Nothingville.

Dumping his own armload on conveyor belt, his mood had been soured enough to not notice Xanxus' inquiring glance, and then, after he dumped his own load, the brat begun to glare back at the jerk.

Harry felt a little bit vindicated, and inwardly made a promise that this evening, Xanxus would get the best and juiciest steak he could prepare in their tiny domicile. Distracted by Xanxus' mighty glare, the white-haired man looked away from Harry and gave an unimpressed stare to Xanxus, which made the brat in question growl and - were those Flames?

Giving him a quick head cuff - Xanxus glared at him, but with Harry giving him his own warning stare, the brat huffed and dialed it down. Inwardly, Harry rolled his eyes. While Xanxus' overprotectiveness of him was cute, the brat ought to take care of not landing in the hot water himself. Little punk.

Hiding a fond smile, he nodded to the cashier as he paid for his purchases and cheerfully loaded the brat in question with his own bag, much to Xanxus' outraged squawk when he got the one loaded with vegetables and fruit. Harry snickered.

Oh, the horrors.


But his stalker was, Harry had to admit, persistent. Anyone else would've give up, what with the convoluted paths Harry had taken up before entering their flat - that is, anyone normal.

But the stalker in question was not normal, and not a murderer. Probably. Possibly. The wards didn't register him as a threat - yet - so it was all the more confusing why did the man follow him almost religiously. Hell, if it weren't for his friends, Harry would bet Alucard that the man would've crept into his flat already!

But what was even more worrying was that neither Kirei nor Kuzuki noticed anything amiss.

"You. Why are you following me?" He finally addressed his stalker as he sat in the cool shade of Colosseum's huge walls arcing into the sky above him as he stared down into the arena.

"My, you noticed me, then." The man approached him, and then sat beside him. Harry scented a faint whiff of ramen and something else wafting off of him. The scent reminded him of Forbidden Forest and crisp winter morning, causing his gut to clench in unexpected homesickness. "So, what gave me away?" The stalker's voice was smooth and low, an ordinary voice, but to Harry's ears, it was just a tad bit too nonchalant, like a humanized cat questioning a mouse how did it find out the cat was a… well, cat.

As happy as he was to be safely away from all that madness, he still missed Hogwarts something fierce. "Hard not to, what with your veritable mountain of ramen cups." Harry forced himself to scoff, as he turned his head, glaring at the man.

Much to his surprise, his stalker was actually younger than the color of his hair announced him to be. He was older than his friends, and if Harry had to guess, he was as old as that curly-sideburns bastard. Lanky, of ordinary height, clothed in faded out blue skinny jeans and hunter green long shirt over the black one, with much-used sandals gracing his bare feet. All in all, the man looked more of a carefree tourist than a threat.

A slight smile stretched across the pale lips, and was that a glint of humor in those eyes?

Biting back his ire, Harry returned the volley with a raised eyebrow. "Oh, no. I am just curious why exactly have you been following me for… oh, three days before finally being ballsy enough to confront me. Isn't that a little bit... unusual for a murderer?"

The man's eyes widened with surprise before he emitted a chuckle of delight. "Indeed. But if I am, as you said, a murderer isn't it kind of a moot point asking me why exactly did I follow you?" He was obviously entertained as he tilted his head, staring at Harry's eyes with amusement.

Harry gifted him with his flattest stare. "Humor me. If you intend to kill me, you at least owe me that. You know, dead people can't speak, and all that jazz." He snarked back, only to receive another one of those foxy smiles back for his effort.

"You'd be surprised." The man's voice was, contrarily to the expression on his face, solemn. "But I suppose I found you interesting." He admitted, a little bit too easily for Harry's tastes as a stray breeze ruffled both their hair and clothes.

Frowning, Harry glared at him, trying to discern any hint of lie from his features. "That's it?" He asked, baffled. "Excuse me if I don't believe you, but lately many people are interested in me, and not all of them are good-willed." He failed to conceal the grimace as he spoke out the last word, but the man sobered down and nodded.

"Of course. My apologies for… freaking you out." His apology, even if he meant it, Harry still glared at him. "Well, then freak me out less, if you please." Huffing out, Harry crossed hands on his chest as he leaned back, glaring at him.

The foxy smile was back. "Of course, of course. So any suggestions on that front?"

Shameless. The prat was utterly shameless. He even wiggled his right pinky, as if indicating a pinky promise, of all things! Even as miffed as he was, Harry couldn't help but feel entertained, and maybe a tad bit hopeful that this one wasn't after his skin and life, respectively. Lips tilting in a small, helpless grin, even if he tried to glare back at the white-haired menace, he nodded in assent.

"Your name, for starters."

The white-haired man stilled, as if completely surprised that his silly act actually worked. "Um… I am Kawahira?" He offered, his voice uncertain.

Harry smiled. "See? This was easy, wasn't it? "He smiled at the white-haired man as he offered him his own hand, silently delighting at the grumpy expression on Kawahira's face when he mentioned it was easy. "Now, if you only did that before your stalk-fest, you'd have earned ten out of ten." He mock-sniffed and Kawahira shot him an offended glare. "But with your performance, I'd say you scrapped a seven."

He suppressed a snigger at the expression of Kawahira's face. The man was obviously unused of his… stalking prowess being rated like this, and it was surprisingly fun to tease him like this, Harry found out, especially when the man offered him his own hand hesitantly, as if Harry's own hand was a cobra ready to strike at him at any given moment.

Grasping it, Harry marveled at the smoothness of Kawahira's palm. It was as if the man hadn't worked even one day in his life - but the hand was warm and deceptively strong, with a firm grip on Harry's own. (It was, Harry noticed, very different from Kirei's, Kuzuki's or Kiritsugu's.)

"Well, then I count on you to help me elevate it to ten, hmmm?" Kawahira returned pleasantly. "And can I have the honor of knowing your name?" Dark brown eyes, the color akin to that of bitter chocolate, semi-glared back at him, making Harry nod almost without his own consent.

"Well, 'course I would. I am Harry." He shot back a sunny smile. "It would be a service to community, really."

White eyebrows shot up at Harry's proclamation. "If you fail, I will demand compensation." Kawahira smirked back at him.

"Three cups of ramen." Harry agreed easily, ignoring Kawahira's mock-outraged squawk.


He… was not what he expected him to be. Of course, this 'Harry' person already impressed him, what with sensing him …when Kawahira had been observing him - Kawahira enjoyed Harry's twitching a little too much to be healthy, so it was a shame he had to cut the observation short - but the fun continued when he initiated contact with him.

Only, Kawahira found out, Harry was a snarky little brat, not afraid to poke at Kawahira's weak points. But on the other hand, there was an underlying kindness to him, so it wasn't that hard to see what exactly had attracted the future Storm Arcobaleno to him.

Talking with Harry was as if he had been thrown back into that time, when everything had begun. When he was young and foolish, thinking that he could bear the entire world on his shoulders with his comrades. But at the same time, it was the present - the present him, who was accepted, snarked at and teased, just like that, and this had thrown him in a loop.

There was also that pain and understanding and unresolved conflict behind those green eyes - really, Kawahira had to wonder who Harry's ancestors had been, what with those unusual green eyes. That kind of color couldn't be bred in ordinary humans, so it was a no-brainer Harry was something more.

And that 'something more' unsettled Kawahira something fierce.

There was still that problem of that unruly Stom sniffling around Harry and this… Kawahira grimaced… could be a problem.


Fon was a coward. Plain and simple. After Reborn's revelation - and honestly, how didn't Fon himself see that, it was so bloody obvious even a blind man could see it - Fon barricaded himself in his room, refusing to come out.

Reborn let him be, which was almost more surprising than the unintentional find that Harry was a Sky of all Elements. Fon didn't know whether to laugh or cry or rage. Here he was, tethered to Yuni, while there was a Sky out there who… Fon swallowed his saliva… could probably be his and his alone.

It was almost enough to drive the man to madness. And maybe he was mad - insane, even - for not picking up the chance and running away with it as far as he could.

But this little Sky already had his Elements. Even if they were Polarized ones, and technically, Fon could've claimed a spot for himself in this little arrangement, considering those Elements were not counted as ones, courtesy of their dual natures. That was a technicality he could capitalize on if he wished to Court the little green-eyed Sky for himself.

That, however, was the bloody problem. Literally bloody. Polarized Elements, for all they weren't acknowledged as ones - if they were Bonded to their Sky, loathed to accept anyone else into their fold. Some theorized it was because of their dual nature, others – more spiteful ones – said Polarized Elements were greedy bastards and that was it.

Being Polarized Element meant it was twice and thrice as hard to find the Sky to Bond to. Polarized Elements - as rare as they were - were looked down upon in mafia because they were perceived as weak, weaker than ones who had a singular affinity to their Flame.

But then, there were those like Harry's bunch. Fon frowned as he curled on his bed.

Kirei. Kiritsugu. Kuzuki. All of them Polarized, all of them bound to one Sky. To Harry.

And wasn't that a galling thought.

Even as Arcobaleno, Fon's flimsy bond to Luce was but an afterthought, coming second to her true Guardians. Fon had thought he could bear with it, had resigned himself to it, because he was too strong and there was no one - no Sky - to accept him like he was.

But then, Harry crashed into his life, changing Fon's three world views as easily as he breathed.

Making him laugh, tease, appreciate life as it was and be at ease he hadn't been ever since he was but a small child.

It took Reborn out of all people to point out to Fon what he could have had -

"Stay away from him."

Fon's spine stiffened as he spun around, his eyes instinctively looking at the shade standing on the edge of the tall window, looking like pale wraith in the middle of the night.

"Checkerface." The name escaped his mouth in a hiss as he glared at the man, practically forcing himself not to outright assault the bastard.

Clad in dove gray coat, golden shoulder-length hair, that damned mask and fedora and the clefted out chin, there was no mistake.

What irritated Fon the most was that goddamn easygoing smirk on the man's face.

Aside his little order, of course.

Fon's pupils widened as he comprehended just who Checkerface had meant with it.

"Nǐ tāmāde." The Chinese martial artist practically growled out as his hackles were raised. "There was no such thing written in our contract."

Checkerface jumped on the floor, the sound surprisingly quiet for the man of his mass. He twirled the walking stick expertly, and Fon's shouders involuntarily stiffened at the movement.

The movement was swift and sharp, perfectly executed. The walking stick obviously wasn't just an ornamental nonsense, like he had supposed it to be before, and then, Checkerface was in front of him, that ridiculously big crystal barely touching the underside of Fon's chin, and oh, wasn't that bad.

"Of course. But both of us know, that the word of employer may as well be the word of Emperor, don't we?" That silky slick voice purred out, and Fon lashed out with a quick kick, aimed at the man's stomach, but Checkerface was already out of his range, effortlessly bending when Fon sent after him one of his Storm Dragons.

"Aiya, you are such a bad child." The bastard cooed at him. Cooed!

Fon's blood boiled. However, instead of losing his head further, he smiled at the bastard that would, after this gǒushǐ of a mission would pass, be a dead meat. He loosened his muscles and bowed to him, however detestable the action was.

"Of course, customer. This one thanks valued customer for guidance." There. All proper, good and properly submissive. It ought to do the trick.

Checkerface's head tilted. "Somehow, I am not inclined to believe you." If Fon hadn't been the master of poker face, he would have glared at tāmāde something fierce.

"But if you want to have additional motivation… stay away from him, and he will stay safe."

Fon froze. Jiàn tā de guǐ, that wasn't fair. He had already known Checkerface was an unfair bastard, but this… to forbid an Element their chance to Court a Sky… that was going, in Fon's humble opinion, a little too far.

But to chance Harry's safety in an off-chance Cherckerface wasn't serious…

Lowering his eyelids and looking to the floor, Fon's bow this time was a little more sincere.

"This one has heard and will comply." And oh, weren't those words the bitterest ones that passed his lips. Much to his surprise, Checkerface didn't have that gloating little smile on his face, as he, for once, was serious.

"See that you do. Because if you don't…" The man trailed out, and Fon blinked.

Such a short moment, and the next time he opened his eyes, his room was once again empty and cold, like the hollow inside his chest.

Stiffly, Fon walked back to his bed and sat on it. He then slowly breathed in and out, trying to calm his frazzled nerves and Flames dancing and snapping with agitation within his mind.

'One more week. Just one more week.'

One more week and then fuck the rules, Fon decided. But meanwhile, it wouldn't hurt to devise the most painful torture to exterminate that checkerfaced gǒucàode pest.


"You are just a bundle of trouble, aren't you?" Kiritsugu grumbled at Harry, when the latter one met him outside the Colosseum with a shit-eating grin on his face.

"Who, me?" Harry looked at him with mock-wide eyes, but Kiritsugu wasn't fooled. The little minx was planning something again, and it was driving all four of them stir-crazy ever since Harry had announced that he had yet another stalker on his tail. Seriously, was there something in Italian atmosphere for Harry to be practically trouble magnet for weirdos or something?

"But seriously, Harry, why?" Kirei interjected, the priest foregoing his usual attire for dark gray trousers and black T-shirt that lightly clung to his upper body, much to Harry's hidden - and failing to be such - fascination. The two of them had been playing tail-the-tail, meaning they tailed Kawashira when Kawashira tailed Harry. All nice and legal, really. And it was for the good of their own minds. Once, as one said, was happenstance, twice was coincidence, but thrice was an enemy action, and nobody wanted to take chance on that - well, except, it seemed, Harry.

"Would you believe me it was because I was bored?" Harry hummed thoughtfully, only to be met with two deadpan stares.

"Harry." This time, it was Kirei who scolded him.

"Alright, fine!" Harry threw up his arms. "I was fed up with the stalker and I was bored! Is that enough for you, your majesty?" He snarked back at Kirei, along with glaring at the priest. Both Kirei and Kiritsugu exchanged a long-suffering glances between the two of them above Harry's head, much to Harry's ire. Why did he have to be such a shrimp still, dammit!

"I honestly worry about your hobbies." Kiritsugu shook his head as he ruffled Harry's mop of a hair affectionately.

Harry glared at him. "Well, if you have any better ideas, I am all ears." He grumped back, smirking at Kiritsugu's stumped face.

Kirei chuckled. "I believe that was, as they say, a 'checkmate', Kiritsugu." He needled the surprised Magus Killer, who just blushed and glared back at him.

"Oi, shut up, you are not any better!"


Luce bit her lip. Lately, nothing had gone like she expected it to go.

Her visions, which were always so accurate, were turning into a mess, and the Strongest Seven were beginning to drift apart, courtesy - or maybe that was unintentional discourtesy - of Chinese martial artist, Fon.

When Luce first met him, the man exuded kindness and calm that was in a stark counterpoint to Renato's charm and wit. The two of them quickly became her pillars she relied on to keep the rest of them in order. Not that it was hard to do, what with her Sky Flames, but Luce was always the one for 'better be safe than sorry' approach in such matters. Especially when she had been chosen to deal with this generation's Strongest.

She was sitting in the garden, listening to bird's chirping and cheeping above her, but nature's serene beauty had done nothing to quell her distress as she unconsciously hugged her stomach as if to protect the fragile life ensconced within.

She shouldn't have felt so distressed. Of course, with the date of ceremony fast approaching, it was understandable to feel some pressure, but not this. Not this … uncertainty and lack of knowledge, along with hurt and confusion as to why was Fon pulling away from her.

It… hurt, even if Fon was not her main Element, not even a properly Bound one at that and maybe it was because of that there was an itch in the back of her mind, a constant worry when she tripped on a mental hole to where Fon's Flames ought to have been.

But one day, Fon had gone outside and returned changed… and not for the better. Ever since then, he was drifting away from her, despite her best efforts, vanishing like mist between her fingers. Her Sky - the Sky she was so proud of - was suddenly deemed to be unsuitable for his Storm, not that the man himself gave her any of verbal or any other indication about it. Well, he was avoiding her, practically shying away from her, his flames curled inward, not coming out when her own ones were trying to coax them to come out and mingle.

And maybe it was that was had hurt the most, this unconscious rejection of what she had been patiently offering him, all the while knowing how it would end.

"Luce?" She blinked at the soft call. Turning her head, she spotted a familiar lanky form clad in expensive suit with fedora with yellow band and shirt, the black tie perfectly on point as always.

"Renato." She acknowledged, her voice tired and hoarse with the last bout of crying she had gone through an hour ago.

Dio mio, but pregnancy sucked. All those mood swings…

"It's hot. You should've been inside already." The man muttered to her, tilting his head like a bored cat as he looked at her with his unfathomable black eyes.

"Ah. Of course." A small, sad shadow of a smile passed her lips in a breath's moment.

"Renato. Do you think I am doing the right thing?" She suddenly asked, feeling childish but needing reassurance nonetheless.

Dark eyes scrutinized her. "You are. It's not your fault this - whatever it is - happened." Renato replied after a short pause. "There's not only you, but also Fon in the equation. And while I would love to have a word with him about hurting you, I can't help but understand where he is coming from."

Luce flinched. "You too?" She asked, hurt and dismayed.

Renato pulled the fedora lower onto his head, as to conceal his all too intelligent eyes, as if to spare her from the further hurt.

"I am not." His voice was firm and flat. "But I do understand the temptation of having a Sky without having to share them with… others." The furrow of his eyebrows was practically a grimace for the Greatest Hitman.

Luce felt her shoulders slump with defeat

"But there has to be more, doesn't it?" Her own voice was so tiny she almost didn't recognize it.

"Maybe." The hitman allowed it. "But I also know Fon is an honorable man and he will heed his contract to the very end. "

'And that,' Luce thought to herself grimly 'is exactly what I am afraid of.'

Outside, she gave Renato a gentle, if pained smile, prompting hitman to offer her a hand to escort her into the house.


Scribble

Grey eyes glared into golden ones.

Oh, this was so not good. A fluffy-haired bystander thought frantically as he tried to think up some kind of a method to diffuse what would surely be the greatest disaster in Namimori. Ever.

"Stop bullying Tsuna." The white-haired boy glared at the black haired one who grunted back at him, tonfa on his hands glinting with an ominous light.

"Hn. Late herbivores must be punished."

Tsuna shook his head frantically, his body trembling with fear and panic as he looked around for help, but sadly for him, none was forthcoming.

"U-Um, fighting on school grounds is pro – probit - err, wrong!" he finally made an outburst, only to be subjected to the stares of the ones who were doing an impressive rendition of Mexican Standoff, minus guns but with a pair of tonfa and - where did Shirou get that sword from, anyway? Because Tsuna was sure his friend didn't have any sword or another stabby-like object on his person some minutes ago.

"Hm. He's right." Hibari tilted his head, looking for all he was worth like an eagle about to tear apart a tiny mouse and oh gods, Tsuna swore he won't be looking nature documentaries late into the night ever again, while Shirou smiled his 'I'm-passive-aggressive-bitch-bastard-fear-me-mere-mortals' smile dialed up to ten nearing to eleven and why didn't anyone tell Tsuna that today was gonna be apocalypse, because he still hadn't read that latest Jump issue and told his mum goodbye because he would follow his dad to be a star and everything –

"Let's duke it out on the roof. You in?"

Stabby objects in question, two tonfas and one wooden sword with a small tiger ornament on its tail gleamed with obvious blood-thirst in the afternoon sun while their owners exchanged equally bloodthirsty smirks ( - they were children, for gods' sakes, they shouldn't have to know how to smirk yet, what was wrong with this world - ), and Tsuna whimpered.