Mia Tempesta

Summary: Reborn never liked being a (secondary) Sky, but he can't deny his nature forever, so one day he starts collecting his Elements. Except now there was a tiny Storm that packs quite a punch that he doesn't know what to do with. Denial leads to trouble, trouble leads to possessiveness, possessiveness leads to ... something else much more tender. Throw in Checkerface and the Arcobaleno Sky into the mix and things get quite complicated.

"Okay, so," Reborn said faux conversationally as they sat around a campfire since everyone was too tired to drive back just yet and, well, Verde's been shot and needs at least a little time to recover from the Sun Flames treatment before they start moving again. Or cramp him into a small car. "One of our drivers has been shot-"

"Why thank you for noticing, Reborn," said scientist grumbled bitterly.

"Which means we need to change up the driving schedule. I'll be the first one to say 'not it' for the first shift because you do not want me driving before the espresso starts having effect. I'll shoot every bastard that's in front of me on the road."

"Are you guys always this tense?" Fon asked as he returned from where he'd been ... doing something for a while behind the car. He'd asked for a phone and Verde and Reborn had had a bit of a competition over whether Verde's invention was better or if Leon was. Viper had ended up snatching Verde's, because they wanted to check some things out with their informants, so Leon it was for the Storm. Reborn guessed he was calling his sister, as he'd said he would during the operation, but he hadn't been all that long, either, even if he'd taken his time.

Maybe Leon had been teasing him before he'd finally allowed the martial artist to make the call? The chameleon loved chaos almost as much as his human, after all.

"Did you find out anything?" Lal asked before anyone could make any smartass comments - probably just to stop Colonello and Reborn from cracking some perverted joke about relieving tension or something; they did, sort of, have a competition going there.

"Thankfully, it would seem the Hibari Clan is, indeed, still in the business of protecting non-famiglia Skies, so it was not one of ours that has leaked this information."

"Your family protects Skies, kora?" Asked a confused Colonello and Fon nodded.

"It started when the mafia targeted some of our own Skies in my grandfather's time. Then, as Hibari extended their network, we started protecting the Skies in the regions we had under our subtle control. We don't know about every Sky," Fon nodded towards Reborn as an example. "But the ones we do know about, we make sure they stay hidden if they have no interest in joining the mafia. As we do with pretty much any Flame Active individual that might come to us to ask for that same protection.

"Um, isn't being mafia a choice?" Skull asked, sounding honestly perplexed.

"It isn't if you're Flame Active," Reborn replied. "Dying Will Flames are the best weapon the mafia has against the rest of the world. Yes, we are numerous, but there's still more military and police forces around the globe than we didn't have this one advantage over them, this one secret, we'd all be long gone by now. That's why mafioso, and especially famiglias, especially big famiglias, always have an eye out for possibly Flame Active individuals. Even those who are simply Flame Aware are either snatched up from their normal lives and thrust into the mafia lifestyle or they are sealed."

"Sealed?" Skull asked, looking uneasy. Reborn noted that Colonello looked a bit confused, too. Then again, Colonello had become Flame Active in COMSUBIN. He was still young, still too new to the system to know about the darkest parts of the mafia.

"It's a dangerous process that, eventually, leads to lasting consequences in an individual," Verde said, adjusting his glasses. "Dying Will Flames are like all of your life energy condensed into an extreme heat that has different properties depending on your own affinity. People, for now, foolishly believe it to be connected to the soul, but Flames are uniform. There are seven types, not numerous to accommodate the 'soul', which is supposedly different for every person. As it is your life energy, to seal Flames is essentially to cripple someone for life. Physical ability, health, mental stability and even personality can all be changed drastically by the process. The longer Flames are sealed, the more unbalanced the person becomes until, depending on Flame type, purity and quantity, they are unable to function properly. A sealed Cloud, for instance, would go insane and probably burst from the inside. Maybe die from cancer. A sealed Sun would probably become too susceptible to all kinds of diseases and injuries. Rains would become aggressive, reckless and bloodthirsty to the point people have to kill them for safety reasons. Lightnings would die of hunger as their body would reject any hard food but turn liquid food diamond-hard upon ingestion. Mists are said to simply disappear in their own minds and never come out. Storms fall into a coma or die of diabetes or some such disease that slowly eats them from the inside."

"And Skies?" Colonello asked hesitantly, looking sick at what he'd heard.

"Skies tend to become clumsy, lose all connection to other people, fall behind in physical and mental development, practically give up on improving their life and, more often than not," Fon said with a tight voice that suggested anger more than the blank face he was wearing ever could. "It kills them before they live to see their twentieth birthday. Because my Clan has seen more than one child Sky with sealed Flames and far too many times have we been too late to save them."

"That's sick!" Exclaimed the only - somewhat - civilian in their group.

"That's the mafia," Rebron said tersely. "You live with it."

Skull was looking at him in horror. "How can you!?"

"Because you have no other choice," Lal replied, sighing as she rubbed at her forehead. Colonello was looking at her with something akin to betrayal in his blue eyes and Reborn was just glad that his younger Rain hadn't turned those same eyes on him yet. He will, no doubt, but for now, it was his mentor that was getting the kicked-puppy look. "Because you can't stop all of Cosa Nostra from indulging in that practice. It's almost as old as the mafia itself."

"Then how come Fon's family is doing it, huh?!" Challenged the stuntman, pointing at the Storm. "You heard him! They saved probably hundreds of them by now! Maybe thousands! Why can't others do something about it?"

"Technically, it is against Vindice law to seal Flames," Viper informed them as they finally floated back to the rest of the group, done with their business. "However, not even they have the ability to keep track of every flickering Flame and most of the sealings are defended as an internal matter because no famiglia goes out of their own territory to hunt for Flame Active individuals. They do, however, inform other famiglia if they are allies or simply order hits on them. There's more than one way to snuff a light."

"And my clan is doing it at their own risk," Fon added, offering a small, sad smile to the desperate looking Skull. "It started out personal as well, remember? More importantly, we realized we had the skill and the knowledge and the power to make at least a bit of a difference. We don't always manage to help, but we do try. Not everyone has figured out how to safely remove a seal on Flames, especially if it is placed by Old Blood, like the Vongola, Cavallone or even Giglio Nero. There's simply not much that can be done, Skull."

"I never thought the mafia can be this cruel, kora."

There was a long moment of silence in which they all allowed Skull and Colonello to let the information truly sink in so they can form their own opinions on it, but eventually the quiet had to be broken. Reborn turned to his Mist, already dreading what the Esper might have to say. "Have you found anything?"

"I checked all the channels Fon gave me and I checked all interactions between the general, that family and the Hibari and there is nothing to connect them. There have been, however, frequent calls occurring between the boss and a freelance hitman. I don't know their identity yet, but they're way too close to home for my comfort."

"Someone who lives in the same city as us, kora?"

"Most likely," the illusionist confirmed, finally sitting down with the rest of them and accepting the stew Reborn had cooked up for dinner. "And someone who had to be close enough either to feel a bond snapping into place, see a sparking or actually touch Reborn and feel his Flames intimately enough for them to discern the Sky hidden underneath the Sun."

"So, just about all of Reborn's lovers, right, kora?" Colonello asked with a salacious grin, which was both an annoyance and a relief, given how he'd reacted earlier. Which was actually a bit ironic, wasn't it? He was in the army and a good few years older than Fon, but Fon was the one to understand the cruelties of the criminal underworld better, the one to take the news of such cruelties done to children better and he probably even saw it with his own two eyes.

"That covers only the touch department of the possibilities," Lal pointed out.

"We should still make a list and investigate," Viper insisted, creating a little notebook and a pen that floated in front of them, ready to jot down the names.

Reborn took one look at the little notepad and deadpanned. "You'll need a bigger notebook." Annoyed, Viper made one. "Bigger." Now there was disbelief, but a bigger notebook appeared. "Bigger."

"Seriously?" Blurted out his Cloud and the fedora wearing hitman shrugged his shoulders.

"That won't even cover the last three months and, as you all know, I've been ... preoccupied."

Fon tensed. "I can always move in with Skull, since he'd offered, if I'm intruding on your usual lifestyle."

That, for some reason, made Reborn want to growl. "No, I've been literally preoccupied. With hits and missions and finding out my potential Storm was nearly sold off to an incompetent, unworthy Sky."

"Speaking of which, Reborn said you two fought?" Colonello jumped in, leaning closer to get a better look at Fon's face. "Who won, kora? Babyborn spewed some bullshit about you guys getting interrupted, kora."

"Never mind that!" Snapped the Mist of their group. "Start listing the names! Not only do we get a list of suspects, if I figure out what your type is, I can sell that information for big money! Do you guys realize how many people want to get into our oh so beloved Sunny Sky's pants? Reborn, if you ever get tired of killing people, let me know. We can open a strip bar or something and get richer than you'll ever get from your hits."

"Oh my fucking god, you can't be fucking serious," groaned Lal and Verde together, looking both disgusted and exasperated. Fon made a choking sound and when Reborn looked over, the Storm was decidedly not looking at him.

"Guys! There's a minor here!" Skull admonished, rushing over to put his hands over Fon's ears, as if to save his innocence or something.

"I've heard and seen worse," Fon said with a cough as he pushed Skul's hands away, not meeting anyone's eyes. "It's sort of an initiation tradition in the Triads. Depending on age and the position you are being recruited for, you give the Triads your first taste of alcohol, your first ink and a part of your innocence. Preferably your first kill, too, but they couldn't exactly get that from me."

"Wait, what!?" Reborn and his Guardians all demanded, shouting so damn loud they must have been heard all the way to the nearest settlement.

"Well, you see, the reason I even ended up in the Triads was because there was this man trying to take advantage of my sister. He'd drugged her so she couldn't fight. We were just kids and I had to defend her, but he wouldn't back down so I had no choice. And they didn't exactly get my second kill, either, because my family found a really shitty, attitude-wise, master for me to learn how to fight under and one day he simply tried to kill me out of the blue-"

"No, not that!" Interrupted the world's greatest hitman. "What did you mean by 'part of your innocence'?" If those bastards had forced Fon to do anything-

"Oh, that." Fon seemed to be blushing, but it was hard to tell due to how the fire made everyone's faces look kind of red. Or maybe their faces were red because of anger and mortification at what might have happened to the kid they'd all practically adopted, because Fon was a minor, a kid that should be in high school worrying about grades and which university he will try to get into, not about some sick Chinese Triads traditions, assassinations and Dying Will Flames!

And yeah, Reborn might be a bit of a hypocrite, given his own lifestyle at that age, but he's never said he wasn't.

"It's ... not as bad as it sounds. The one who recruits or introduces a new member into the fold takes the newbie out with some of the older members-"

"That doesn't sound all that reassuring, kora."

"-to the local public house and treat them to a night of drinking and enjoying the performances by the ... strip dancers ... " Fon's voice kind of faded out at the last part but they all heard since the only sounds around them were the crackling of the fire, their own breathing and the wind.

"Well, no worries about such BS here!" Skull cheered. "We don't have any weird traditions when someone joins our group!"

"Really? Because Colonello - and later you, too, Skull - got religiously drunk for every Guardian that got bonded to Reborn, despite it all already happening and in a quick succession, too," their resident scientist pointed out skeptically.

"Don't forget that the idiots try to have a drinking competition with Reborn after every successful group mission and always end up with him drinking them under the table," Lal added, much to the protests of the two in question.

"Lightweights," Reborn teased with a smug smirk and, predictably, Colonello takes out the booze.

"Drinking contest death match!" Screamed the blond and the purple-haired men together at the top of their lungs.

"You're going down, kora!"

"Prepare to taste defeat!"

"Good grief, not this shit again."

Fon just sighed, but there was a happy little smile playing at his lips.

Reborn, surrounded by his - mostly; Verde was still bitching about his leg and Viper was moping that Reborn hadn't told them his type yet and that he won't be opening a one-man stripper club with them with Reborn as the main attraction - content Guardians, felt ... happy.

And then the drinks came out and it all turned into sweet, sweet chaos.

00000

"You got interrupted," Reborn said sometime later, when everyone else was asleep - Lal and Verde inside the wan, Lal because she was a woman and the scientist because he was still, technically, injured; Viper had curled up on the front seats with a blanket and Colonello and Skull had been left to sleep outside in case they wake up with the urge to vomit up the alcohol poisoning they'd consumed some hours ago - and he and Fon were the only ones awake. They had taken up the tent Colonello had been planning to sleep in, close enough to the fire that the chill of the night didn't reach them and shielded from the wind by the thick material.

They were in their usual position, all curled up together and comfortable, ready to go to sleep, and yet sleep seemed to be evading them.

So Reborn started up a conversation on a topic that truly interested him.

"Hm?"

"You got interrupted earlier, when you were explaining how you ended up in the Triads. Something about protecting your sister, killing some idiot master and something else," Reborn said with a little hand wave that was supposed to encompass the rest of the story that he hadn't heard. "The Triads are known for picking out the most vicious people they could find, but you're far too kind for that, even if you can be merciless in a fight. You don't enjoy killing." Not the way Reborn kind of did. "And you're always merciful and make it quick. I guess you can say I am a bit ... confused, as to how you ended up where you are." And maybe a bit drunk if he was asking this. Usually, it's a silent rule not to ask such questions.

The lives of mafioso are not ones to share lightly. Not like this.

This? This feels almost like pillow-talk, so the topic really wasn't fitting.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

"... I already said my sister was attacked and I had to save her," Fon said after a long pause. "Only, my family found out, so my father sent me away as Clan Head to learn more, since I already displayed a talent for it. He found me a master, a former Shaolin Monk who was kicked out of their order because he had killed. Willingly. I stayed with him for a year before he tried to kill me, but I ended up killing him. His ... main apprentice, I guess, sent me to a different master to continue my training since they kept getting the money from my family for the 'inconvenience'. It went on like that. I kept improving and changing masters, either because they had nothing left to teach me or because they tried to kill me and failed. Some died, some I didn't kill. In the end, I ended up with Chen. She taught me my final style and was about to send me on my way when my clan finally learned what has happened to me and where I ended up. Chen is, as you know, affiliated with the Triads, so my father asked her to introduce me to her organization. I didn't get a choice in the matter. I had cost my family millions for not contacting them that I was no longer with the same master. My father was of the opinion that I had to return all that money. Never mind that I had never wanted to leave home in the first place."

"And then you just climbed up the ranking ladder?"

"I guess."

"Sounds like a long, tiring journey to get where you are now, here with us," commented the hitman, feeling his eyes start to drop.

"Indeed," replied his youngest Element and there was a long moment of silence. Then ... "How did you become 'Reborn'?"

Story for a story, eh? Sounds fair.

"I killed myself." At the shocked silence from his sweet little Storm, Reborn laughed a bit bitterly. "I killed who I was before even before I pulled the trigger and killed my father. I was ten. My mother was a cheap whore who left us behind, he was a drunkard and I was born with a talent for killing and fighting. But I was a child and I didn't know anything about the world beyond the shitty little street I lived on and the few surrounding neighborhoods. Then I became Flame Active, a hitman noticed me - for my Sun, mind you - trained me until I was twelve, then tried to kill me in a jealous rage because I was better than him. Then I killed that boy for the second time. I erased all information that that boy had ever existed and created a new name. Reborn. Because I was reborn. I am Reborn, the world's greatest hitman. My story was much more straightforward than yours. I just killed a lot of people."

"Is he really dead?" The Japanese asked after another long moment of silence. Reborn noted that the Storm had, apparently, absentmindedly started carding his fingers through Reborn's hair in a mimicry of the first time they'd slept like this. It somehow made bearing with this conversation topic just a bit easier.

"I still remember his name, that foolish, naive little boy ..." And Reborn knew he was really drunk and that he will really be regretting this in the morning when he asked next: "Do you want to know it?"

"... Yes ..."