Haru was away for Haru Appreciation Day, and for shopping with Tsuna. Setsuna was throwing herself into work, be it the old books or her job, and since the house was going to be empty, Hotaru went to visit Kawahira instead of going with Haru. She left them with the excuse that she had a different shop she preferred to patronize. It wasn't a lie because she did prefer Makoto's creations. La Namimorine was good, Hotaru would admit that much, but she was loyal to Makoto, and she was a VIP at her place.

Besides, Haru liked Tsuna. What kind of a friend would she be if she tagged along and became the dreaded third wheel?

Now that he was in Namimori and no longer avoiding her, Kawahira decided he needed to give her lessons in illusions.

"Like these?" she asked when he said 'illusions', drawing on her magic to create a simulation of Titan Castle in present time, revolving around Saturn.

"Those are projections, not illusions," Kawahira critiqued, looking over the miniature projection of her castle with a bored eye. "Do you think you can use those in a fight?"

No, she supposed she couldn't.

"What's the difference?" Hotaru questioned as she let the projection dissolve, because it was clear he had in mind different definitions. It was doubtful that he differentiated based on whether they could be used in a fight or not.

"Illusions," Kawahira said, "actual illusions, not tricks or sleights of hands, are a distortion of the senses. Where magic tricks rely on the holes in human perception and assumptions, illusions seize the senses of others, sight, smell, sound, touch, taste, and takes control of them. When one's perception of reality is twisted to your own desires . . ."

He trailed off, but Hotaru could see where he was going with it. When you weren't in control of yourself, how would you be able to discern who was the foe and who was an ally?

What kept you from being turned against your own allies, when you were lost to even yourself?

"It'll probably take an illusionist of significant talent and skill to affect you or the others when you're in your sailor forms," he continued, drumming his fingers together. "Though in civilian form, that's another matter entirely."

Hotaru grimaced. After being insulted – unintentional as it was on her part – by Rei's efforts to protect her from any possession or the likes, Kawahira had theorized that the reason why Hotaru – and the other sailor soldiers – were vulnerable to things like possession when not transformed was due to the discrepancy between their bodies and their souls.

"If you have a soul of a Saturnian, but the body of a Terran," Kawahira had said back then, over his second bowl of ramen. "Then obviously it won't fit as well. It's like trying to shove a grown adult into a four-year old girl's dress."

It didn't help, he had added after both of them made a face at the imagery, that they were growing stronger as sailor soldiers. Not when their bodies were still that of Earth, and they lived on this planet instead of their home planets. For all that they had been born here, they were claiming and prioritizing their birthrights first. Kawahira compared it to citizenships, and services provided by the state. Foreigners paid more or had to go through different channels than natives or people with citizenships. It was an apt metaphor.

"Eventually you'll achieve the same status as the Lunarians, back then," Kawahira had concluded, rubbing his chin with an absent-minded thumb after he ordered the third bowl of ramen. "And your bodies will catch up to your souls and the connection will grow stronger. In the meantime, try to not get possessed."

It fit what he was saying now. As sailor soldiers they were protected by the active powers of their planets. When untransformed, they were far more vulnerable.

"The first thing you should remember about illusions, and illusionists," Kawahira said now. "Reality is subjective. Any illusionist worth their salt has struggled at least once with the concept of reality, toed the insanity of what they dealt with as they tried to define what has no correct answer. What is real? How do you know if it's real?"

He waited, and Hotaru realized it wasn't a rhetorical question.

"I," she paused. What was reality? What she felt? But the senses could be tricked. Illusions, hallucinations and phantom pains were all examples of how the senses felt something that wasn't there.

And how did she know the world? Through her senses. Sometimes through the birthright of Saturn, giving her a bit of precognition and understanding of the path of destiny being carved ahead of the world, but that wasn't the answer Kawahira was looking for.

He had given her the answer from the start. Reality was subjective. There were spectrums of lights not visible to the naked human eye, sounds that couldn't be heard, scents that couldn't be caught. But just because it wasn't 'real' to her didn't mean that it didn't exist.

And yet, when Hotaru thought about her own reality that wasn't something she could take into account, not fully.

"I just know," she concluded. What she knew might not be the whole truth, at least not to others, but from her perspective it was what she knew. What she knew was her reality. The more Hotaru knew, the larger, the more detailed her reality would be. It wasn't that what she didn't know didn't exist, but just that she couldn't factor it into her own interpretation of reality.

Kawahira smirked proudly when she gave her reasoning for her answer.

"Exactly," he said. "The trick the illusionist plays, then, is taking control of that subjective knowledge of reality and exerting control over them. It's a battle of realities."

He raised his hand and snapped his fingers. In front of him appeared a bowl of steaming ramen.

"Here's a test," he said. "Is this ramen an illusion, or was it here all along, just hidden behind an illusion?"

Hotaru could smell the broth – miso ramen – and see it in front of her own eyes. Experimentally, she touched the bowl. It was hot.

Then she ran a hand across the steam. Damp heat covered her fingers. Four of her five senses told her that there was, in fact, a bowl of ramen from Kawahira's favorite place sitting on the table before her.

Kawahira offered her a spoon he had pulled out of nowhere. "Want to taste it?"

Hotaru shook her head and focused. After a moment she released her breath. "It's an illusion."

Grinning, Kawahira inclined his head as the bowl – and the spoon – disappeared. Not even the smell was left to permeate the air, when only a moment ago it had been strong enough to make her mouth water.

"And how did you come to that conclusion?" he prodded. He looked like he was genuinely having fun.

"Control over the senses," Hotaru answered, feeling a little spoon-fed. He had given her all she needed to break it. "The moment I told myself it was an illusion it didn't have a hold over me anymore."

"Very good," he praised. "Yes – illusions are in the mind. If you can keep yourself grounded, and your mind under your control, illusions become little more than paltry tricks, and they can't affect you. Though, I doubt just telling yourself it was an illusion was enough to have the confidence to break it entirely like you just did."

He was right. She was completely honest when she said her next words, but Hotaru couldn't help the impish smile spreading across her face. "I knew it had to be an illusion because there was no way you would have let your ramen sit around that long."

Kawahira threw his head back and laughed.

After the lesson was done for the day, before she left, Kawahira had one more thing to say.

"Try to avoid using your powers," he suggested, leaning on the doorframe like standing required too much effort. "Or, at least, exposing people to you know what."

Hotaru blinked. "What?"

He sighed. "The greater being within you."

Sailor Saturn.

"So I shouldn't heal people?" she asked, feeling herself cringe a little. She'd already done that.

Kawahira considered it before shaking his head. "That should be fine, but . . . try to not release your powers in a threatening way."

Hotaru nearly said that she didn't, except she had, once, during Namimori's athletic festival. Oops.

"Some people are sensitive to that kind of power," he explained, and yawned. "Not everyone, but some. Just in case."

She nodded.

Tsuna didn't know what a mafia boss was supposed to look like. For one, Reborn's goal was to make him the tenth boss of the Vongola Family, and Tsuna couldn't ever imagine himself as that.

A suit maybe, black and expensive. A tough, rough face with a scar – or scars – and a constant frown. Guns – or dynamite, like Gokudera.

Dino wasn't quite like the vague image he had always thought. He was young, for one. An adult, but not someone Tsuna would consider as a 'boss', and of a mafia family. Sure, he had tattoos, but he looked young and cool, with his tattoos peeking out from even the thick green coat he was wearing and his golden hair. Like a model or an actor on television, someone that was on magazines girls bought and squealed over. Not a mafia boss.

Tsuna studiously avoided the men in black suits inside and around his house. He was going to pretend they didn't exist. They were just too much of a threat to his sense of sanity and denial.

"Thanks to Reborn I'm now the boss of a family with five thousand members," Dino recalled, mouth curling into a fond quirk but eyes haunted by things that couldn't be unseen.

Okay, so maybe he was a former student of Reborn's, because Tsuna was fairly sure that was the face he made when he thought back about what he'd been through these past months. Still, Tsuna didn't believe Dino when he said that he used to be like Tsuna. For one, there was no way someone had survived the kind of torture that Reborn put him through and actually come back to see Reborn to recount the tale. For another, he didn't look or act like a loser.

Sure, he made a dad joke, and he had a turtle for some reason, but he jumped out of a window on the second floor without a second thought because Lambo's grenades were about to fall on his men. Like he had come out of an action movie, Dino snatched up both grenades with his whip and threw them into the air.

So, yeah. Dino was super cool. A long way off from what Tsuna was.

And, despite his coolness, a mafia boss. Which Tsuna had no intention of being, despite what both Reborn and Dino said.

Dino stayed over for dinner – and the night – and that left Tsuna at a loss of what to even talk about. He wasn't going to be talking to Reborn's other student about mafia stuff, cool or not.

Reborn, because he was Reborn, had other ideas.

"Right now, there's Gokudera and Yamamoto," listed off Reborn when Dino asked about his family. "Also a few candidates: Hibari, Sasagawa Ryohei, and-"

Nope, nope, nope.

"Those are just my friends and seniors!" Tsuna shrieked. He'd never trade them for anything, because having friends were great, but Reborn needed to stop pulling them into mafia business.

They were just normal – well okay, not completely normal, but mostly, sort of, kind of normal people. Tsuna was just a normal guy.

Reborn, over his bowl of rice, gave him a 'we shall see' look that sent chills crawling up his spine in a foreshadowing of doom and pain and much suffering. Again – how had Dino survived this guy?

"Why did you come to a person like me?" Tsuna asked, partly because he wanted to change the subject to less stressful things, but also because he was curious. Why him, despite whoever his great-something-grandfather was? "It sounds like you were doing fine with Dino-san."

Dino shrugged, as if it was obvious. "The Vongola is the center of our allied families," he said matter-of-factly, like every word he said wasn't like one of Gokudera's bombs exploding in his head. "That's why it gets priority above all others in every aspect."

"It's that influential?!" He felt faint.

"That's right," answered Reborn at his side, lifting his rice bowl to his face. And this guy wanted to train (read: torture) him until he could lead a family someone like Dino said was to be prioritized over everything else.

Tsuna wished he hadn't changed the subject because that just added more pressure.

Then, as if sensing his inner panic and wanting to comfort him, Dino revealed why he said he used to be just like Tsuna by demonstrating his conditional klutz. It couldn't even be anything as minor and harmless as just spilling his food when eating. No, Dino's klutziness was far worse – from tripping, to somehow doubling his bad luck, to suddenly losing his proficiency with his whip and attacking everyone else except Enzio, the sponge turtle, whatever that even was.

Holding his twice-whipped face – which hurt a lot, and why did he have to know what being whipped in the face was like – Tsuna despaired.

Then, miracle of all miracles, Reborn, instead of shooting him with a Dying Will Bullet as usual, merely threw Leon at his head. The chameleon landed on his face, and Tsuna flinched when Reborn's pet changed shape and settled over his entire head, like a tight-fitting helmet.

"Romario?!" Dino shouted. It was like a switch went off. His movements changed from what could be found as examples under the page for 'clumsiness' in the dictionary to the cool, action-movie like moves from earlier in the day.

The bullwhip tore through the air, and by the time the crack rang out, Enzio had his neck caught by the whip, and elevated by the light fixture. With gravity working against him, and the whip tight around his throat, Enzio's struggles grew weaker and less destructive.

No, Tsuna decided. Dino was still cool.

AN: a bit of information on illusions. Also, Kawahira's reason for returning to Namimori – because Hotaru released a bit of her power around an Arcobaleno and he realized he needed to tell them to not do that lest the babies go 'JENGA'.

+ﾟ*｡:ﾟ+

Kawahira: THIS is how you do illusions *finger snaps in a Z like the illusions snob he is*

Also Kawahira: Of all the people in town the reincarnated soldiers protected by planets and the Arcobaleno would run into each other this town I don't even.

+ﾟ*｡:ﾟ+

Reborn: Come to the mafia side, we let you be cool (sometimes)

Tsuna, Dino: No thank you!

Reborn: I refuse that refusal. *shoots them both*

Sweet Dreams~