Between Acheron's uncannily timed hint about proving his resolve and the opportunity for working at Doctors Beyond Boundaries, Mamoru had hesitated just as he was about to send in his application. Working abroad wasn't the only way to prove resolve. He could help, in Japan where he was as well. It might be a sense of superiority to think that going abroad was the right answer. Or, it might not be. Maybe it was him fearing going to what would undoubtedly be a challenge, far away from his wife.
In his moment of indecisiveness, Mamoru had done what many did when faced with uncertainty in their life.
He went to a priest to consult his future decisions.
Helios listened carefully to Mamoru's worried line of reasoning, following along without a single line of judgement lining his face.
For all that he looked young, and was, there was a light of understanding in his red eyes that transcended age.
The only time that compassionate face broke expression was to smile radiantly, when Mamoru mentioned Acheron's hint of 'proving his resolve'.
"I can't remember him, but he did say that if I could prove my resolve whether I'm able to recall him or not it wouldn't matter, so maybe if I'm able to prove - what is it?" Mamoru asked, breaking off in his recollections.
"It's-" Helios paused, but the joy, as bright as the sun, did not fade away easily. "Forgive me, my lord. I am just very glad that he's given a straightforward hint, for once in his life."
'Straightforward' was not the word Mamoru might have used to describe it. Helios, perhaps realizing what Mamoru was thinking, hurried to explain.
"My prince," he said. "Do you remember when I said that we were both connected to Elysion and this planet, and our hearts were one despite never having met?"
It had been years past, but he did. Circumstances like that which they had been under at the time were not easily forgotten, and Mamoru had a good memory. He nodded.
"We never met," Helios repeated. "I have never met you before that day, not in person – not you as Chiba Mamoru, and not as Prince Endymion. And though I cannot speak of Acheron with the former, I can say with certainty that he has never met you as Prince Endymion, in your past life. What he is waiting for you to remember . . . is not your non-existent memories of him."
Mamoru thought about everything Hotaru had told him, went over every word, every indirect statement from Acheron himself to Hotaru's own observations of the man. About all the time he had spent trying to remember, and how not even the spirits of the Shitennou could not recall an 'Acheron' or a 'Sephira'.
Oh. Oh.
Suddenly he felt as if he'd been sucker-punched in the solar plexus. No wonder he couldn't remember, all these years. He had never known. It wasn't a question of not knowing what to look for – he literally did not know the thing he was searching for. All this time he had been working off the wrong premise.
Helios grimaced at the expression Mamoru must have been making. "Acheron is . . . a talented illusionist. And illusions are essentially magical, elaborate sleights of hands. It would be easy if you were to think of him as a pickpocket, or a conman."
It seemed a rather harsh way to describe someone, when there were words like 'magician' or 'performer' to use instead. Mamoru raised an eyebrow and waited for his next words.
"He rarely speaks with just one meaning because he's the kind of man who thinks that compiling several things into one is an efficient and amusing use of his words and wit even when everyone else tells him otherwise, and tricks perception as easily as he breathes," Helios explained. "I don't mean to say that he leads you astray with ill intent, but it may be, in his own way, a test. He gives his help in roundabout ways because he's frustratingly unable to ever be straightforward with anyone, even himself."
Towards the end there was a bit of emotion in his words, Mamoru noticed. The kind that came with a bit of a grudge, or exasperation built over years. Helios noticed as well, and he flushed slightly as he took a deep breath to calm himself.
"He sounds like quite the character," Mamoru offered his impression. It also fit with Hotaru's own recollections of the man. It seemed he was consistent with people he let close.
"In his defense," Helios mumbled, flushed with embarrassment. "Sephira was a great Seer, and she always saw through him no matter how much he twisted up his expressions. Perhaps he does not deserve that defense, as that enabled him to continue on being terrible."
Sephira. Mamoru wondered if she was also someone he had not met.
For someone who called Acheron terrible, though, Helios sounded rather fond of Acheron, in the way one lamented about their trouble-making black sheep of the family affectionately. Mamoru couldn't help but envy that bond.
"But for all his flaws, he's someone who carries out his responsibilities, without demanding glory, additional power or recognition for any of it. He liked to say he doesn't care about the approval of the faceless masses, and he didn't, but undoubtedly he cared about what truly mattered."
Helios was earnest, in the way Mamoru observed children could be – unbarring, eager, wholehearted – and he wondered if Helios was aware that it was Mamoru who should be trying to appeal himself to Acheron to prevent his disapproval, not the other way around as he seemed to be doing.
"He sounds like quite the character," Mamoru repeated his earlier words, because they were, though different in intonation, still apt.
The priest laughed.
And of course, the trust of such a man would be difficult to earn. Used to hiding himself and what he thought, centuries of a duty protecting the planet only to be met with an upstart of a prince who was to be king by his birthright. No wonder Acheron wanted proof of his resolve before he even wanted to meet him. It sounded like that it was Acheron's way of ensuring that he was fit for the role.
When Mamoru said as much, Helios winced. "You are too harsh with yourself, my lord."
It was kind of Helios to say so, and maybe he was right, but there was an anxiety in Mamoru that just couldn't be banished regarding Acheron. The man was, like Helios, one of the survivors of a time from his past life, yes, but it was more than that. It was because he was the one who took care of Mamoru, when he lost his parents. Indirectly, and he never would have known if it weren't for Setsuna telling him, if Acheron hadn't revealed it to Setsuna, but still.
Mamoru was afraid of disappointing the man. For years, ever since he was six and lost his memories about life before the accident, he had never expected to have a parental figure. He had legal guardians, lawyers that made sure he was protected while growing up, but as far as memory was concerned, Mamoru never had parents. He was used to being independent, taking care of himself, standing tall without an adult figure explicitly stating their support of him.
Had he wanted such a figure in his life? More than anything. A part of why he had always pushed himself so much during his student days was because he needed something to occupy his mind, something to exert the nervous energy of his anxiety on. Being the perfect student, the perfect person, was his only defense in a world where he had no one.
After Usagi entered his life, it had grown exponentially better. She gave him not just her love, but also a family he thought he would never have. Not just in the form of the visitor from the future that was Chibi-Usa, but her own family as well. The Tsukinos, who welcomed him, and the other sailor soldiers, who were not only allies he would trust with his heart but also personal friends.
Usagi was always saving him, his salvation without even intending to be. She gave him so much.
It was stupid, Mamoru knew, but when Setsuna told him what Acheron had revealed to her, a part of him had been desperate for – a kind of family, one from before meeting Usagi. Someone he had wanted growing up in his life. Someone that, even as a grown man with a family and a happy life, he wanted in his life now, as if to make up for all the absent times before.
Mamoru recognized the illogical method of reasoning in his thoughts, but at the same time there was a desperate want for that.
He wanted to prove himself to Acheron. Not in the way he had to prove himself as more than adequate, superior even when compared to his peers who had parents unlike him, but specifically Acheron.
A tricky quest, given that the man was elusive and unwilling to meet him. Mamoru was going in blind, and nothing about him so far had impressed the man, he assumed.
"If I may, my prince?" Helios asked, hesitant but at the same time, something burning in his red eyes.
Mamoru broke out of his thoughts. "Yes?"
"Acheron might not . . . quite agree with me," Helios paused again, and winced. "And maybe I don't know myself, but. I think this is your life, and you ought to live as you would, not as Acheron thinks you should."
Startled, Mamoru felt a small laugh slip out of his lips. "So I should ignore Acheron?"
Helios gave him a small grin. "Well, I do it and all he can do to me is rub his knuckles into my head. And while it hurts and messes up my hair, I can guarantee it's not the worst thing in the world he could do."
"You're not saying he'll do that to me, are you?" Strangely enough, Helios telling him to do what he thought was best, rather than try to follow the frustratingly vague directions of Acheron was a lot more comforting than he might expect.
A priest blessing a child could not have looked more compassionate and as caring as Helios did in that moment.
"If it was your resolve, stronger than metal backing your action," he said, "then who is to say that your life has not been lived as it should?"
As young as he looked, as boyish as his face was, his words gave Mamoru great comfort, and his anxious mind a sense of peace it hadn't had in a while now.
His resolve, Mamoru decided, would have to be proven by catching two birds with one stone. He was going to do what he felt was right – what he wanted to do, as Dr. Chiba. He was going to apply to Doctors Beyond Boundaries. And he was going to prove his resolve and find a way to earn Acheron's trust – obfuscating as the man was.
Several months of working in a country where the repercussions of the civil war were still ongoing like an actual civil war, Mamoru was more than willing to sacrifice sleep to speak with Acheron over the matter of teenagers fighting grown men in fighting rings. Someone he wanted approval from not, that was just unacceptable.
Hotaru went to pick up Acheron as the sun began to set. It wasn't that she didn't trust Kawahira – it was just that she wanted to ask some questions of the man.
But Kawahira's lips would not be loosened, and in the end, Hotaru gave up because it was time to head to Usagi and Mamoru's house.
She transformed into Sailor Saturn, while the form of Kawahira Riku dissolved away, and let Hotaru meet Acheron for the first time.
Years she had lived with him, but as Kawahira Riku. The man before her was the man she'd caught glimpses of – the one hidden behind the curtains of the old house's curtained windows, revealed at last.
Acheron was far handsomer than Kawahira, with sharper, smarter features. The lack of thick, unfashionable glasses over his eyes might have helped with that, too. No longer covered, even his eyes were of a different color – pale blue, like that of a glacier's underside.
Overall, he was a sharply handsome man, the kind whose face might off-put some people from immediately approaching him in fear of being verbally shredded.
Even his choice of dress was a far cry from his usual preference for comfortably worn kimonos. His clothes were loose in form, but clearly made to fit his size. Unlike the light-colored tunic and trousers Helios wore, Acheron wore a dark navy cassock with long, wide sleeves. Over the garment he wore an overcoat similar to a scapular, except for the short sleeves that came to an embroidered end mid-bicep, black silk threads drawing out outlines of lotus flowers and leaves on the edges. On one hand, he wore a ring with what appeared to be a mass of worms or snakes clustered on it.
Kawahira was a frequently exhausted man who was, despite his preference for being mysterious, sometimes goofy and playful, who justified eating unhealthy food through twisted logic and was slapped on the wrist for it. A man who was lonely and didn't fully seem aware of it.
The man before Saturn was Acheron, not Kawahira Riku, and there was a remarkable difference in presentation.
Where Helios was every bit the priest who would pray for the salvation of the damned and grant forgiveness, Acheron looked more like an inquisitor, ready to smite down sinners and pronounce words of judgement over heretics forced to bow at his feet.
Were it not for the fact that he was frowning, as if he was rather nauseous, Saturn might have made a joke about how he could dress to impress when he wanted to.
"Are you okay?" Saturn asked. He looked like he was going to throw up.
"I think I might vomit," admitted Acheron, confirming her observation.
Saturn turned around, saw the empty bucket that served as an umbrella holder for Granny on rainy days, snatched it up and shoved it in front of him.
He accepted it with a small grateful nod, but didn't throw up, just continued to clutch it like a lifeline.
"What's gotten you so nervous?" asked Saturn. Kawahira was remarkably skilled with putting on a mask – a show, of sorts. In the few interactions she had seen him have with those other than Granny and herself, Saturn could say with certainty that while he might not enjoy social interaction, he was excellent at it to the point that even while dressed like he was asking the fashion police to arrest him, he could engage in a friendly conversation with anyone within five minutes of meeting them.
Right now, wearing his true face, he just looked miserable and sick.
"This is not," he said, slowly. "How I expected my meeting with Chiba Mamoru to go."
Saturn waited, but he didn't elaborate, only continued to breathe evenly, until some of the sick color settled down and he no longer appeared close to exposing the contents of his stomach.
"Do you want to call it in?" Saturn asked, thinking about the method she used back when her 'allergy' was ongoing and she could not physically be present for any discussions about her condition.
Acheron shook his head. "Thank you, but – no."
The last trace of anxiety disappeared, and he was, like she originally thought, a very sharp-looking man.
He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "Let's do this."
It was a matter of pride, and resolve, and everything he held dear.
Could he tap out? Well, yes. He could do that. Forfeit, surrender, give up, whatever. Lambo could do that and Tsuna would not rebuke him. He would be relieved, probably, tell him that he had made the right choice and genuinely mean it.
It was because Tsuna was that kind of person that Lambo couldn't give up. He'd been the Lightning Guardian by default for so long, and he knew what was said about him – nepotism, timing, dumb luck for the dumb cow. A sparrow among hawks, the one that didn't belong.
Bleeding badly, in pain, Lambo reached the bazooka and jumped in. Was it running away? Yes.
But the bazooka let him call in himself from a different time, a Lambo that could taken on an officer of the Varia and give Tsuna a winning chance. Technically, he came from a time where the battles for the rings had already been won – though he didn't really remember it.
But if time was going to be weird and out of order around him because of the bazooka, well, then, he'd just do everything he could to shift the odds in their favor yet again, and set things on the course towards the future he wanted to see.
For all that Lambo was the youngest of the Vongola Guardians, the useless one, the liability –
Lambo was not going to give up. Not this battle, not the position of the Lightning Guardian, and not the Vongola. Not Tsuna.
The world exploded in the familiar pink smoke, and through the pain and the haze covering his sight, Lambo smiled.
Despite his earlier anxiety, Acheron handled things very smoothly. He did make a very annoyed face – made more intimidating than usual because he was Acheron right now, not Kawahira – when he saw that the two pink-haired women were waiting for them outside of Mamoru and Usagi's house, in chitons instead of the clothes like yesterday's, but other than that, he was smooth in his manners.
Hotaru, after arriving and undoing her transformation, observed him with a careful eye, but he showed nothing except a perfectly relaxed mien the whole time. He knelt in what might have been a textbook example of court manners before Mamoru and Usagi, and polite bows to everyone else, and introduced himself calmly as 'Acheron, priest of Elysion'.
Mamoru looked a little taken aback, until he identified – around the same time as Hotaru realized what was going on – that Acheron's politeness towards him was passive-aggressive in nature. The kind of politeness that was chilled, as if butter would not melt in his mouth at that moment.
Passive-aggressive snubbing was something Mamoru was more than capable of handling, and so he dealt with it by getting straight to the point while Hotaru, groaning internally, made a mental note to kick Kawahira in the shins later. This was not the best way to be dealing with his anxiety at all. Of all the defense mechanisms to employ, he had to go with frigid politeness.
"Who are the Cervello?" Mamoru asked bluntly. This was not Mamoru, cautiously curious about Acheron and Kawahira, hesitant like he was afraid of being burned. This was Mamoru, who did not need Acheron's approval, but rather was demanding an explanation for all this if he was going to sanction Hotaru's friends fighting adults in what sounded like an illegal fighting ring.
And the other sailor soldiers were, while planning on asking questions when necessary, all in agreement to let Mamoru be the one doing most of the talking tonight.
Acheron drummed his fingertips together, a parody of a villain from a movie, except it rather suited him. Not helpful in leaving a great first impression, or even a decent one.
"The Cervello," he said, almost musingly. "Are an organization made up of homunculi."
All of their eyes flitted to the pink-haired women in the dress of the Maenads from Elysium, and then back to him, with the question of 'why?'
"They were created by the priestess Sephira, shortly before her death," he continued, unaffected by the looks being sent in his direction. "As a way to make sure that a promise she made could be kept even after her passing."
"Homunculi?" Ami repeated, because to make a homunculus was one thing – weird as it was. To have an organization of them sounded rather structured and far more complex. And ominous.
"Born from a modified charm for creating homunculi grafted onto an enchanted tree," Acheron explained, because the mechanisms behind their creation had definitely been what the question implied she wanted to know. "They're basically artificially intelligent fruits shaped like people."
Sometimes the truth was weirder than anything they could have imagined. It would have been predictable to hear that the Cervello were drones or foot soldiers of a foe, but to hear Acheron's summary of things was a shock in a different way.
"What was the promise?" Mamoru asked, instead of further asking why a walking, talking fruit was trying to keep a promise. "And who was it for?"
Acheron looked at Mamoru, gaze observant. Two men, opposites in coloring, stared at each other like a twisted mirror.
As the one who was asked a question, Acheron gave first.
"It was a promise she made to friends she loved very much," he whispered. "Who were unfortunately met with much misfortune. Sephira, always compassionate, made a promise out of her sympathy even as she was dying, to let them be happy."
A priestess – the most powerful of the guardians that survived the Silence Glaive and the fall of the Silver Millennium – who made a promise even as she died. An organization of homunculi created to oversee the promise fulfilled.
There was a buzz under Hotaru's skin, something tugging at her to look deeper. There was something about this.
As well as unanswered questions. Why now? Why here?
"That promise involves boys in middle school fighting adult men?" Mamoru had heard from all of them, Saturn included, on what they witnessed. While Hotaru had been the only one to see – and even that, near the end when Kyoko's brother took out his opponent with a clean punch – Mamoru's sense of justice and instinct to protect still kicked in fiercely. He did not approve.
"Certainly," said Acheron casually. "Their reincarnations could have been timed better, but we can hardly choose the circumstances of our birth or know for certain what comes up in our futures."
One moment of silence.
"What?" said Hotaru, a sentiment echoed by almost everyone in the room.
"I mean," said Acheron, still too casual like he had not dropped a bomb just then and there. "You are not the only ones reborn with a destiny pulling them towards a path."
It felt like her mind had been struck by a bolt of lightning, with how blank it had gone. He wasn't saying –
"Granted," Acheron added to the stunned room, like an afterthought. "It's not as grand as a destiny two millennia in the making, or in the scale of things. A solar system versus a group of friends – hardly a fair comparison."
He was. Hotaru stared at him.
"You're saying," said Setsuna, quickest to regain her wits and think not just about what was said, but what that meant and connecting the dots. "That Hotaru's friends, due to their previous lives, are currently engaged in battle."
"Well, when you put it that way," Acheron muttered, furrowing his brows distastefully. "It sounds like they were just born to fight."
That snapped them out of it, because while they had been reborn to live their lives, they were, at the end of the day, sailor soldiers, carriers of star seeds of their planets, born to protect what was the home of their souls.
"What does that have to do with them fighting now?" Mamoru asked. While he was stunned by the revelation of their reincarnation, he would not let that be the thing that made him back down.
"It's a bit of a long story," Acheron said, almost evasively – but he maintained eye contact, as if he expected a certain reply and wanted to see for himself if it would be given.
"We have time," Mamoru replied.
Acheron nodded compliantly at that, and began to explain.
"Approximately – one hundred and eighty or so years ago? It's been a while, I may be wrong in my estimate. But around that time, there was a group of young men with a strong sense of justice in a world that was nowhere near as just or as kind as they were. Chaotic times, power vacuums, dawn of a new age, things like that. The kind of times where the weak have their voices and lives stifled."
Acheron waved his hand, and mist began to crawl in a swirl around him. From the mist, one by one, illusions of seven men began to rise.
"By this time the age of heroes was long dead," he added. "No more warriors of old, knights in shining armor slaying monsters to save the fair maiden, no more favors of gods from the heavens. In some areas, admittedly, they made progress, but in others they lost so much. Somehow that state of 'enlightenment' the arrogant men of science and progress were so proud of became the rationale for being callous, uncaring towards a fellow living being. The world was on the cusp of change, and that change left cracks many fell through to a hellish life."
The first man was one in a black mantle, golden clasps over his chest holding it in place over the pinstripe suit he wore. Pale golden hair shot up towards the sky in spikes, and there was a serenity to his eyes that only the balanced could have.
He looked like Tsuna, Hotaru realized. If someone said they were related, she would believe it.
"And that was why Sephira loved them," said Acheron. "Because rather than be swept up in the greed of the age that possessed so many others, they chose to take the hard path and fight for the sake of those weaker than them."
The second one to rise was notable in the large and conspicuous tattoo, like fire, covering the right side of his face. Where the Tsuna-lookalike was dressed like he was modeling how to wear a suit properly, the redheaded man was laxer in fashion, with a few buttons left undone and green tie loose. More than ample room to display the purple crystal pendant hanging from a thin strap of leather around his neck.
"What do you mean by that?" Mamoru asked, but there was a catch to his voice like he suspected something.
The third one made both Setsuna and Haruka stare in recognition, because other than the platinum blond hair, the man was the spitting image of Hibari Kyoya. In a dark grey trench coat and a no-nonsense, sharp look to his face, but there was no denying the similarities. If Hibari Kyoya was an adult with different coloring, that would be him.
"They were vigilantes," said Acheron. "When the law protected only the rich and powerful, and innocents had their lives torn apart amidst a game for power, they sought to protect, even through means illegal at the times. If the law would not protect those who needed it most, then they would."
The fourth was a tanned man in the dark robes of a priest. A long red scarf hung uncrossed from his neck. Unlike Acheron, the other priest in the room, this one had a brighter air to his face, like someone filled with enthusiasm for everything, in a good way. It made Hotaru believe that this priest had been a vigilante, unable to stand and do nothing at the sight of injustice.
No one present in the room had anything against vigilantes.
"What does that have to do with their lives now?" Usagi asked, repeating the question when Mamoru was unable to.
The fifth figure was an outlier in the fashion of the men so far. While their styles had been diverse, there was no denying that the root was western in origin. In a blue and white joe and wearing an eboshi on his head, his clothes were undeniably Japanese.
"It has, unfortunately, a not-inconsequential effect," said Acheron, before adding for Hotaru's benefit, with a nod towards the fifth, "this one is the previous life of Yamamoto Takeshi, by the way."
Even if he had not told her, Hotaru would have known. The man in the white and blue robes was different from her friend, but there was the same kind of relaxed air, the same light in their eyes.
"'He who fights monsters should be careful lest he thereby becomes a monster'," quoted Acheron, words said lightly despite their weight. "'And if thou gaze long into an abyss, the abyss gazes back into thee.' They faced greed and the darkest parts of human desires, and while they did not let themselves grow into monsters, it extracted a price from them nonetheless."
The sixth was a young man with curly green hair, a small tattoo in the shape of a lightning bolt under his right eye. He looked lazy, and was dressed in a similar manner to that of the redhead with the larger facial tattoo – shirt with buttons not fully clasped, trousers, simple and almost casual.
"The price was their happiness, wasn't it?" Like Hotaru, Mamoru had been looking at each of the men as their features were revealed. He might not know Tsuna, or Takeshi, but it didn't stop him from observing them carefully, even as he listened to Acheron's recollections.
One corner of the lips that had been speaking so far twisted upwards in a smile. It was far from a happy expression – instead, it made Acheron look quite bitter.
"Indeed," he agreed. "Exhausted, heartbroken, full of regrets, much lost and torn from their hands, they left their homes, almost driven out by the very people they fought so hard to protect. Rather than stay as monsters, they left to remain humans. To the end, they chose to love rather than hate."
Hotaru waited, but the seventh man remained a faceless shadow, features unrevealed.
"What about this one?" asked Makoto when nothing continued to happen.
Acheron made a face. "I didn't like him. He was annoying."
Though he sounded sincere, the blunt expression of dislike, almost childish in his honest expression, did something to break the serious air. Even as she was dumbfounded Hotaru found this familiar – the part of him that was Kawahira around her, the one she knew peering through the elusive guardian that was Acheron.
That familiarity gave her a relief to the tension she hadn't been fully aware of until now.
Mamoru looked at the seventh figure, and then turned his eyes back on Acheron.
"How does that tie to the present day, where children are fighting?" he asked for the third time.
"We are able to explain," the Cervello cut in, before Acheron could say something. Acheron shot a brief glare but closed his mouth to let her speak without being interrupted by her. "The battles are challenges over the rightful ownerships of the rings."
Acheron put a hand over his eyes as if resigned, or as if his eyes were giving him great pain.
"And why do they need to fight over the rightful ownership of these rings?"
"The rings are gifts, from Lady Sephira to her friends," said the other Cervello, speaking in turns like they did the other night.
"It is to them that she tied her last promise."
"And it is through them that the reincarnations of her friends will receive the chance to address the remnants of their past lives."
"Maybe," growled Acheron before Mamoru could ask a different question or say exactly what he was thinking regarding the intelligence levels of the artificially intelligent fruits that were the Cervello. He sounded very done with it all. "Start with reassuring them by sharing what your talents are and what you Saw."
The Cervello exchanged glances, nodded, and then raised their hands to their masks.
Acheron turned his head away, as if he didn't want to see, and a moment later Hotaru understood why.
Under the masks, like there were roots running just under the skin, veins ran thick. Or maybe they weren't blood vessels but scar tissue, knotting together and around the eye sockets.
Only one eye socket was filled, for the both of them. The other hung loose, empty and without eyes. The one on the right had her right eye blinking and whizzing back and forth, and the one on the left had an eye in the left, pupil bouncing around.
A moment after, the left Cervello's eye actually bounced out, falling onto the floor of Usagi's living room with a wet plop, and someone let out a strangled shriek of surprise at the sudden gore. Hotaru couldn't say with certainty that it wasn't her.
Now eyeless, the Cervello bent her knees and patted carefully until she found the eye again and raised it to the socket. With a squelch that made Hotaru's stomach churn, she popped it back in. Then, she and her partner both wore their masks again.
"Sephira made the tree they were born from," Acheron said, still not facing their direction. "Unfortunately, after her death, the Cervello's tree was severely damaged due to a fire. Sephira's retainer Apollonia did the best she could to restore the tree, but it never remained the same, and neither did the Cervello."
Mamoru's eyes shot towards Acheron at that, and he looked contemplative. "You don't want me to think badly of her."
That got Acheron to finally look in Mamoru's direction, though his face remained blank.
"You said that, because you didn't want to leave us with the impression that Sephira made them this way on purpose." Mamoru winced, and quickly apologized to the Cervello. "No offense."
The Cervello didn't respond, but Acheron nodded.
"No one wants their sister to be remembered badly," he answered. "Especially when she sacrificed so much for others. Even on her dying deathbed, she worried about this planet, and for your sakes."
He broke the gaze, and looked at the Cervello impatiently. They received the unspoken order and explained. In their own vague ways.
"Despite the damage from the flames, Lady Apollonia was able to restore the tree using other methods."
"In the process, we received partial Sight. That is to say, limited knowledge of the future related to the rings we are sworn to watch over."
"The rings are not fully sentient, but they are undoubtedly special, and have their own spirits."
"They choose those whose resolves are strongest and most determined according to what they remember – and they will choose first and foremost those whose souls have imprinted memories upon them."
Mamoru opened his mouth, but there was a strangled sound, and it came from the priest who looked ready to throttle the Cervello, or himself.
"I swear," Acheron muttered. "Cervello – will anyone engaging in the ring battle die in the battles?"
"No," said both of the Cervello at the same time.
"Do they," Acheron paused, looked at Hotaru, and amended his question. "Does anyone fighting on the side of Sawada Tsunayoshi, including Sawada Tsunayoshi, become injured past the point of recovery during the battles?"
The reply was the same as before. "No."
"In your visions, who wins the battles, and therefore the ownership of the rings?"
"Currently, Sawada Tsunayoshi and his guardians."
Acheron rubbed the bridge of his nose. "And what might change that?"
"The rings choose those whose resolves are strongest and most determined according to what they remember. As of now, Sawada Tsunayoshi and his guardians have stronger resolves. If they lose their resolve or determination, the outcomes will also change."
"I should have just done this from the start," Acheron lamented, looking ten years older. "There you have it. Sawada Tsunayoshi and company are not going to die in this fight. Or get seriously hurt."
Mamoru took a deep breath. "They have partial knowledge about the future?"
The Cervello on the right answered that. "Only in relation to the rings."
"And the future is fluid, not set in stone."
Acheron pointed to the Cervello. "And that's why they – why we – ask that you not interfere with the ring battles."
"Because you don't want the outcome of victory to change?"
Acheron shrugged.
"While whether they lose or win doesn't matter to the world, per say, it's a personal matter for me. If they are defeated, that is on them, to find a different way to happiness. But currently, this is their choice, and though they are not cognizant of it, they are fighting for the chance to resolve the very problems they were torn apart by in their previous life. This is their chance to address wrongs they could not before," he said. "Change what they were forced to submit to before. To come out victorious, and to be happy. I suppose. Their chance, without others involving themselves."
Mamoru raised his eyebrow at the addition of uncertainty. "You suppose?"
He ignored the disapproving glint of light in Mamoru's eyes. "I don't remember my past life, so I can't exactly be an expert on the subject. But from what I've observed of people being reborn, I can say that the past life leaves a trace on a soul. I imagine it is similar to facing the returned evils of the Dark Kingdom, or finding new roles in new lives that weren't possible in the previous ones. Not letting your past lives be the things that determine your present, even as you resolve problems from then."
This conversation wasn't a battle, but if it had been, then they would have lost it with that. They did know, what it was like. To be tied to something beyond just their current lives, to fight it and end a clinging bond that stuck with them through the cycle of life and death.
"They fought for their dreams, for the safety and happiness of others in their previous life, and died in regret after failing," Acheron continued. "Even if they were to fail, even if it is not the same, would you deny them their chance at a second try?"
Like Acheron said, it wasn't the same. But at the same time, none of them, with who they were and how they had come to be, could say that such a thing shouldn't be done.
With their bases melted, the lightning rods couldn't stay as they were, tall spears pointed towards the raining skies to call down lightning upon the field and the fighters inside their boundaries. They fell over with a sound nearly as loud as thunder, and the field was ruined.
There were no stars in the sky. The clouds covered what lights might have been given by stars, or the moon, and the night was dark. He should have been unable to see anything.
But he could see, because the area around him was bright with the fire on his head, and his two hands. The conducting metals in his hands, melted and no longer able to hold their shape, fell to the ground when Tsuna dropped them.
"Tsu . . . na . . ." Lambo croaked from where he was, hurt and beaten.
The flame began to grow smaller, and Tsuna felt the calm state slipping away. "The Vongola Rings, the position for the next boss . . . no matter how important you tell me those are."
Saying this, Tsuna knew, would cause him trouble. But he had to say it, had to stand by it. "I can't battle for such things."
The light from the fire on his head and hands disappeared as the flame flickered out, and it was dark. The contrast from light to being plunged into darkness made it impossible for him to really see, and so his last words he shouted to the unknown masses of shadows whose features he could not make out. "I don't want my friends to be hurt!"
He turned out to be right. Xanxus attacked him, and the Cervello that tried to stop him, and the other Cervello confiscated the Lightning Ring and his half of the Sky Ring.
"Rejoice, morons," Xanxus said, sneering. "I am going to give you another chance."
He leaned against the structure on the roof, looking down upon them all like a lion perched on a rock. "We will continue the rest of the matches as usual. If, by any chance, you lot can win this battle by majority, I will give you the Vongola Rings and the position of the boss."
That sounded too . . . not 'good', but not in character with what Tsuna saw of Xanxus so far. Not with the man who just said that with the Sky Ring now his, the rest of the Ring Battles were no longer relevant.
"But if you lose," Xanxus continued, because of course there was a catch. "Everything you hold dear will be eliminated."
The threat of everything he held dear being destroyed by the violent Flames that Xanxus used was far more terrifying than losing the position of the boss, or the rings.
"What should I do . . . ?" Tsuna asked, on their way back home. Suddenly every step felt heavy, because with every step he was remembering things he held dear. His friends. His mom. His home. His life.
"Lambo didn't recover yet," Ryohei said, somberly. Tsuna looked at the others, and knew they were all thinking of the same person. It wasn't their secret to share, so they kept quiet on that.
"On top of that," continued Reborn. "Xanxus is serious now. He won't hold back on the violence."
"One win, two losses," said Gokudera, concern weighing down his voice. It was especially hard on him, because his battle was next. "If we lose the next match, we won't have any more chances."
And that was because of him. He just put them in danger, just increased the pressure on Gokudera.
"You did well," said Reborn, when Tsuna voiced his worries – that he might have been reckless, endangered them all. There was no insult, no smacking him, just a simple phrase. Perched on Yamamoto's shoulders like it was the most comfortable seat in the world, Reborn dispelled his anxiety with a few words. "The Vongola doesn't need a boss who abandons his men."
Tsuna still didn't want to be the boss, and they weren't his men, just his friends.
But Reborn was right, in that he wouldn't abandon them.
They were in danger. Xanxus was going to destroy everything precious to him if they lost.
He was going to fight Xanxus, at the end of these battles, and to make sure the worst outcome didn't come true, he needed to win.
And for that, Tsuna needed . . . .
"Reborn," he said, knowing that he was voluntarily signing up for what would feel like training from hell. It would probably be the hardest training Reborn put him through, harder than what he put Tsuna through up to this point.
But he would take it. He could take it. He had to take it. "I want to become stronger."
AN: I have been saying for a very long time that Saturnine is not canon and this was one of the reasons why. Could I have made it canon? Probably but that would take extra work so it's not (this person).
The 'Reincarnation' tag never just referred to just the sailor soldiers which is a plot twist, I hope.
For those who follow me on Tumblr I think I once mentioned I might write a story about how Teresa Pasta (see Interlude II) was reborn eventually as Giglio Nero Lightning Guardian Silvia (see Mikrokosmos), who was reborn eventually as Miura Haru. I was worried I gave away the secret back then, but no one was like hey so if Teresa reincarnated as the Giglio Nero guardian who reincarnated as Haru does that mean the Vongola 10 are reincarnations of Vongola 1. Thanks for not spoiling guys.
English does not have a word for Nidana/인연/因緣 so just imagine me scrambling to find a way to write it in a way non-Buddhist people can sort of understand the implications.
This is a chapter where both Mamoru and Acheron are anxious and that's fun. They are anxious because I am anxious and I don't believe in suffering alone.
The Cervello having an eye each is partially inspired by the Graeae Sisters of Greek mythology. Not in full, but partially. Since Cervello means 'brain', and brains have two halves and two eyes and all, and the Cervello are always in pairs, I thought it might be fun to make it so that each pair shares a pair of eyes.
Acheron and Cervello absolutely chose to confront Mamoru and the senshi on the day when they wouldn't have been able to stop them if they saw just who was fighting, because how are you going to explain a five year old fighting against a full-grown man as a second chance given by reincarnation to set things right. Sneaky bastards.
TL;DR
Helios: (❁´▽`❁)*✲ﾟ* (resolve? Acheron I'm so proud of you! You're not messing with him as much as usual! That's so straightforward, I knew you had it in you!)
Mamoru:【・_・?】
+ﾟ*｡:ﾟ+
Hotaru: do you want to call it in?
Acheron: While that would accurately reflect how meetings are done due to the quarantine, no thank you.
+ﾟ*｡:ﾟ+
Acheron: *strongly disliked and still dislikes Giotto et al., with exception of Asari Ugetsu who he was sort of friends with*
Also Acheron: *speaks somewhat well of them because Sephira also took that career path*
+ﾟ*｡:ﾟ+
Acheron: *about Daemon Spade* I didn't like him. He was annoying.
Daemon Spade: *has been humiliated in an illusion battle against Sergio Tiberinus once; never got along with him; was nearly killed by Sergio once* eXCUSE ME?!
+ﾟ*｡:ﾟ+
Acheron: *does everything he can to tell the truth while trying to not have the sailor soldiers or Mamoru interrupt the ring battles*
Cervello: Yeah so they fighting for rings herp derp.
Acheron: *I hate my life* Am I a joke to you?
+ﾟ*｡:ﾟ+
Sweet Dreams~