.

Chapter One: Gentle ~ Hibari's Side

.

They hated each other.

At least, they had in the beginning. And so for many years after, they'd fought against one another with all they had. One to avenge his tattered pride and assuage his bruised ego, and the next, understanding this, to honour the other's need for both closure and entertainment. It probably didn't make sense to anybody else, but, from the moment they met, neither could deny that the other was exceptionally amusing, and considering their utter distaste for human contact and the way they avoided basic social interaction like the plague, they clung to anything that was interesting. They held on to anything that captured their attention like it was a life line, so it wasn't really all that surprising when their fights began to take a rather…intriguing turn.

At first it was purely physical, but that changed soon after they had all moved on to Nami High, him dragging his infamous disciplinary Committee with him. The reason, he defended, was not because the omnivore was going and had expressed his concerns towards their education either. It was actually because the Omnivore's Yamato Nadeshiko mother always sent lunch for him and his troupes. He only allowed it in the first place because of the health benefits, (healthy minions meant competent minions after all; it was obvious from a tactical standpoint). And it was not because they were delicious, or because Sawada Tsunayoshi was worried about his, (as the Octopus-Herbivore put it), "thugs," or because he always delivered them himself, and his smile made Hiba- erm, Hibird happy, but because of...tactics. That, and the fact that that herbivorous, attentive, Mother-hen attitude of his somehow raised the morale of the men, and it'd be a waste if the obentos arrived late and the D.C. got sloppy while on patrol just because that slow Tuna had to run all the way from Nami Koukou.

Life had settled down into a respectable routine punctuated by the typical excitement brought on by the presence of the Vongola heir, (read: assassins), and Hibari was content. He had time for his naps. He had time for patrol. He had time to discipline the average delinquents, and/or law-breaking citizens of Namimori. And most importantly, he had time for his fights with the illusionist, secure in the knowledge that no matter how much time they lasted (time that was increasing more and more as that Nagi-girl grew in power), or how far they took it, everything would be okay. Having ended up at both the summit of Mt. Fuji and as far as Okinawa respectively on two previous occasions, it was a tested truth that Namimori and the D.C. were safe in the hands of his one and only omnivore, Tsunayoshi...Primarily, not because he was strong, but because of the aforementioned committee's members, (the herbivores that they were), practically worshiped the ground upon which the slender brunet walked for exactly that reason. The general pattern of thought amongst his men, according to Kusakabe, was that "Sawada-chan" was too...delicate and sweet - too gentle for all that violence. Even though he was remarkably improving exactly that every day under the supervision of that Arcobaleno. Regardless of how his strength grew, for reasons perplexing to Hibari, he persisted in not hurting even flies. Therefore, after witnessing him carefully saving such an insignificant insect and releasing it, apparently, things changed. (Little did they know Tsuna was actually sparing them Reborn's wrath for killing one of his subordinates.) Their efficiency was now quadrupled when Tsuna had to watch over them while he was gone, so that the city would be safe for "Sawada-chan," his friends, and his family to walk its streets with no harm befalling them.

God forbid that should ever happen because as much as he would be entertained by their vicious bloodlust, Namimori would become dirty and the clean-up was a chore. Moreover, they had the aggravating habit of fawning over that formally useless omnivore of his every time he so much as got a paper-cut. Thus, Hibari could only begin to fathom how much whining and coddling would be involved if they ever caught wind of the truth whenever that little animal was ever truly wounded, and just the thought of it made him want to bite them to death.

He absentmindedly wondered what they would think if they knew that their pretty little "Sawada-chan," (the moniker never got old), had beat the monkey-king that they feared so much, and that put them all on edge whenever he visited, to a bloody-pulp more than once. It would be amusing to see their expressions should they ever find out, but knowing those foolish herbivores, it would only serve to deify "Saint Sawada" in their eyes. So before they brought that idiotic, metrosexual herbivore's jeers to fruition he'll make certain they never discover the truth, and bite them to death should they even breathe an insolent word of insinuation his way. You know, if they actually ever had the audacity to demote him and nickname him something ridiculous like, "Consort Kyoya" to their divine "Dame-Demi-god." (That'll teach those nearly mutinous minions to make him doubt their loyalty.) Honestly though, you should hear them when walking passed Nami High's larger, more comfortable Reception Room that was done in the refined shades of royal and midnight blue, during lunch. Every day they gush and sigh at the very sight of him, practically turning to mush at every little gesture he makes. It's pathetic, hardened soldiers cooing and giggling like mere girls because of a "bunny." It wasn't all bad though, at the very least, the other was so startled by their adoration that he made the most amusing faces. And while they were distracted, Hibari could sneak away to clash his dominating and fearsome tonfa against an elegant but formidable trident.

That was all well and good but then, suddenly, one-day Mukuro collapsed. Mid-fight, at that.

Apparently, his concentration slipped when too much of his scheduled sedative was given to him quite unexpectedly all the way back in Vendicare and down he went. Hibari took Chrome home; taking care of her throughout the night and the next day. He even missed school while tending to her, and if you'd asked him then why he'd done it, he'd have told you that it was because he hadn't bitten the real pineapple herbivore to death yet, so the eyepatch-pineapple herbivore needed to stay alive to channel his source of spar-like recreation until her master was released.

Of course, that wasn't the whole truth.

If he had been honest with himself back then, he'd have acknowledged that the moment Mukuro abruptly choked on a gasp, knees buckling as his expression contorted into a pained grimace that wasn't brought on by him, his heart had all but stopped.

But Hibari hadn't been prepared to admit it; it would have been too much, too soon.

And so, mind suddenly blank with herbivorous feelings that he refused to ponder or give name to, he didn't think. When he saw Mukuro give way to Chrome once more, he just moved forward, wordlessly scooped the girl up into his arms, and took her back to his mansion. Unfortunately enough for him of yesteryear, his charitable act didn't end when Chrome woke up, oh no, the other was in a total panic, declaring that "Mukuro-sama" was "in danger," and that despite his stubbornness, he needed "help," so she was going to get to "Bossu," because he "definitely knows more," and she had to "find out" how she could "be of service." However sound that plan seemed, when her inability to stand up properly, far less move on her own was taken into consideration, it was proven to be utter nonsense. And so it was that Hibari had to take off full tilt with the female Mist-user on his back, all the way to the Little Animal's home.

Tsuna welcomed him immediately with a soft, "Eh? Already, Hibari-san? You're a few minutes early...! I told Reborn that the extra weight wouldn't hamper your speed at all, but that bossy baby never listens to me! Mou, shouldn't he of all people understand how amazing Hibari-san is?" that was complemented by an altogether too jovial glitter to those innocent eyes. What's more, the tone that coated that slowly deepening voice whenever the smaller called him by name was nearly too timid-sounding for his taste at the start, and was strangely accompanied by with most adorable blush the Skylark had ever seen. But, as it all ended in a sigh, the first-born Hibari heir tried valiantly (abet in vain) to put it out of his mind. Taking the fact the omnivore wasn't as loud as in the past, and that his greeting was oddly pleasing to the elder for the same reasons he found himself watching the fast-growing teen quite attentively lately, (reasons which he neither wanted nor needed to ponder then), Hibari charitably decided to spare him from being bitten to death just this once.

...Particularly since Hibird had already perched himself atop the brunet's shaggy head of hair the moment the sixteen-year-old opened the door, and obviously wasn't planning on moving until Tsuna himself moved him, or Hibari began to leave. Since the raven would never dream of hurting him, Sawada Tsunayoshi was left unbitten just this once.

If the Pineapple were around, he would point out how funny it was that he kept telling himself that, every time more fervently, as if to make himself believe it. Annoying as the thought was, it nonetheless recentered his focus to the situation at hand.

"She needs you," Hibari replied simply, jerking his head back towards the girl curled up there just out of view, and intentionally disregarding the fact that Tsuna had obviously been expecting him. He had gotten used to the would-be Decimo's arousingly intimidating intuition.

Tsuna, snapping out of whatever shy, admiring daze he'd slipped into whilst the prefect was thinking. He straightened promptly, eyes narrowing with seriousness as he stepped forwards to take Chrome from the taller male. He pointly didn't question why she was with Hibari, or why either had been absent from school, (which the other must have surely noticed since he was still in his uniform's shirt and slacks). Realizing this, the Cloud's ardent gaze followed the Sky with an intensity that would have been impossible to ignore, and positively traumatizing to anyone else if they'd been its target.

But Tsuna wasn't afraid.

Tsuna, was never afraid.

At least, not anymore; as expected of the man he had grown to trust with even his beloved Namimori.

Although, now that he considered it, Tsuna's so-called fear of him had been more of a sensible understanding of both of their difference in strength, and Hibari's own tolerance of his antics, (or lack thereof), instead of the regular, outright piss-yourself terror.

Wordlessly heading back into the unusually calm house, the young boss only paused for a nanosecond to invite the Disciplinary Chairman with a tell-tale nod of his head, before immediately heading up the stairs to his own bedroom. Being a proud but respectful Japanese male, Hibari himself moved to chase the owner of that fluffy head of brown locks only after he'd removed his shoes. Thankfully, he was just in time to see the brunet in full on mother-hen mode sitting beside female mist who was atop what seemed like fresh sheets and buried snuggly under a heavy set of blankets that must have been pulled from the still opened wardrobe.

"Lambo? Ice-pack, please," He ordered softly in monotone, compassionate eyes totally focused on the ailing girl.

Dutifully, the cow-child handed him the item, his Chinese companion stepping forward the moment Tsuna called for her to give him the hot-water bottle she held after he'd situated the first on Chrome's head, and raised the quilt he'd placed upon her just a mere minute before. That earned a raised brow from Hibari, but to her credit the girl didn't even flush (in embarrassment or otherwise), completely trusting that whatever her leader did was for her own good, and if not, then for the overall good. Proving himself worthy of that confidence, Tsuna simply wrapped the hot-water bottle in a pillow case he must have likewise fetched earlier, and placed it directly on the teen's lower stomach. Tucking her back in, he tenderly brushed the bangs from her sweaty forehead, eyes warm and no longer severe now that the girl was being made as comfortable as possible, his very aura over-pouring with empathy that Hibari realized just then that no man should have to that capacity since they couldn't conceivably ever comprehend what it must be like to...menstruate.

Oh.

Then was the pineapple-herbivore also affected?

As big a waste of time as this was turning out to be, (not because he didn't value the struggles of females, visiting his mother and little sister as often as he did, but because the child was clearly in capable hands), he decided he would only stay to make certain that his prey was indeed alright. Oh, and to make subtle inquiries to the omnivore as to regularity, certain dates, and for precision's sake, durations of such a particularity, so that this event wouldn't be repeated again.

To would be dangerous to all parties involved.

Meanwhile Tsuna, in response to her admittance of pain, was fervently inquiring, "Have you taken any ibuprofen? How long ago? Do you want any?"

"No, I haven't taken any yet," She confessed tiredly.

"Well, we can take care of that!" He chimed with a fond look down at the little ones on their knees on the side of the bed, who were peeking up at the girl worriedly. "Right, guys?"

With a sharp nod and a sound of affirmation, I-pin ran off to get the drug in question, and Lambo fished one of his precious grape candies out of his silken though voluminous locks and offered it up to Nagi.

"These always make Lambo-sama feel better when Maman is out and can't kiss his boo-boos!" He declared brightly. "And if that doesn't work, Tsuna-Nii's kisses are just as good as Maman's, only he always studying up here with mean old Reborn."

"Really?" Chrome asked in faint amusement as she reached out passed the sweatdropping Tsuna to pat the seven-year-old's head.

Lambo nodded.

"Sometimes," He whispered conspiratorially, pushing himself up with his tip-toes so that his belly slid up the bed so he could get in close enough for his stage whisper to somehow remain a coveted, well-guarded trade-secret. "They're even better...!"

Unable to restrain herself at that, Chrome burst into giggles as Tsuna facepalmed, knowing that her sweet-natured boss wouldn't take offense. Believe it or not, the next big boss of the largest league of crime syndicates in the world was blushing under that hand!

"Alright," Tsuna murmured not unkindly. "That's enough out of you, Lambo," He continued, teasingly poking the curly-haired child in his ticklish little tummy, and smiling at his cute chortling. "If you really want to help Chrome, you can hold the glass while I pour water for her to swallow the pills I-pin has brought."

Right on cue, that very instant, the statuesque seven-year-old in red came through the door, her shod feet making an almost negligible tap on the hardwood that it didn't in the carpeted halls.

Hibari observed the trio as they summarily gave the sixteen-year-old girl the pain-killer, and Tsuna shooed the little ones away with the promise of taking them out for ice-cream the next day.

"Now, Reborn," He began, calling the infant out of his hiding place within Tsuna's wardrobe.

The skylark hummed.

Ah, so that's why. The omnivore left it open on purpose, so as not to hamper the baby's hearing in any which way or form. Hibari'd been wondering if it had just been an oversight on the other's part; he should have known better.

"What's the latest status on the movement I put forward to the Ninth last week?" He asked as he stood, stretching, and crossed towards his desk.

"Don't get it twisted, my stupid student. Thanks to the action you undertook last week, I might potentially become your future subordinate, but that's a technicality considering the difference in our level of skill and experience. I'm not your servant, Dame-Tsuna," The correction was immediate and punctuated with a threatening flash of the infant's signature green and black gun handgun. "You don't give me orders."

"…'potentially,' Reborn?" It was a curious, fondly exasperated inquiry.

"The dead can't inherit anything," The hitman clarified with an insidious gleam in his large, black orbs. "And that includes pesky titles that make them feel superior when they can barely tie their own shoelaces without falling over."

"…I didn't mean for it to sound like a command, Reborn," The boss candidate replied soothingly, smoothing over any ruffled feathers on the part of the wizened cherub. "I most of all know that I was nothing before you, and I am thankful. I'm sorry if it came out disrespectfully."

The open affection in swirling depths of Tsuna's grateful gaze should have quite frankly been outlawed in Hibari's opinion, as it worked like an A-class tranquilizer to the agitated powerhouse in the seemingly innocuous form of a baby. The head of the D.C. was unsurprised when the weapon was replaced by a docile chameleon once more, and propped atop the Arcobaleno's hat which was tugged ever so slightly downwards as he in turn responded.

"It's fine. You know how…tense I've been lately," The awkward clearing of his throat indicated his own sincerity, as a predator or no, he, in all the vast maturity he possessed in his tiny body, apologized in his own way. "Anyway, two days after the ball last week the Alliance met as a whole, and the Nono brought your 'movement' before the assembly."

"And what did they say?" The brunet inquired, anxiously wringing his hands.

"Why don't you see for yourself?" The sun-user teased, waving a thick report he'd produced from thin air, under Tsuna's nose.

Something stood out to the tonfa-wielder just then: the third mention of 'last week.' That was around the time of the baby and the Omnivore's conjoint birthday celebrations...

But what movement would have to wait until the Tuna had turned sixteen? Were sixteenth birthdays important to the Vongola for some reason? Sixteenth, eighteenth and twenty-first years were often associated with coming of age...Now that he pondered it, that blond, miserable excuse for a father Tsuna had the unfortunate luck of being saddled with, had been babbling drunkenly about something like that. Hibari had just been too repulsed by his very presence to take much notice of him and the spectacle he was making. Just the smell of him had sent Hibird flying away, and his master had been all too eager to follow his lead.

In any case, whatever it was, it must have been important for the brunet to refer to the old man he'd called "Grandpa" last week, as "Ninth" now, like he did at that unnecessarily elaborate gala that followed later that very evening.

Chrome must have been thinking along the same lines too, because she asked, "What movement is that, Bossu? And does it have anything to do with Mukuro-sama?"

Tsuna nodded, left hand in his pants pocket as he appreciatively accepted the ebony binder with the ridiculous stack of white inside, from his tiny tutor.

His eyes flashed amber as they flickered over the folder's cover, embossed with the Vongola Crest in gold, before he let out a long, stabilizing breath to centre himself while he got right down to business.

Skimming it with a carefully crafted, outwardly calm façade, he replied, "I've been trying to see if I can get Mukuro released from Vendicare for over a year now, but even getting in contact, hell, being allowed to get in contact with Vindice isn't something I can do on my own. I wanted to see if I could use Vongola's channels and connections to take poor Mukuro out of that horrible place, and Reborn informed me that I most certainly could once I officially accepted my status of heir to Vongola, as I did last week at my coming-of-age. However, it still isn't nearly as easy as you'd guess what with me being the future Decimo. The fact is that it's a lot more...complicated, specifically because I'm not just going become the leader of a random group of gangsters, but the next Head of an ancient and prolific clan of mobsters, a mafia of mafias, a Familia like no other, the Vongola, and more to the point the Vongola Alliance. As a matter of fact, if I was going to be the head honcho of anything but the Vongola Alliance, there would be no hope for Mukuro at all- for the degree of crimes he committed, and he'd remain sealed in there forever. And because it's an 'alliance,' even if I'm the future head of its head Familia, doesn't mean I get to do what I want. Actually, Reborn's made it quite clear that it's the opposite, because I'm the Decimo-in-training, I have more restrictions placed upon me. Furthermore, most of these people don't really know me. Oh, they know about me, but they don't know the real me. They don't know my ideals, my purpose, my personality, strengths, weaknesses...but they are watching, watching very carefully; they're probing my every move and sending their spies to try and figure me out. Subsequently, until they understand 'me,' my rhythm, and my way of doing things, and until they approve more than halfway without exception, they, as a whole, won't trust me, and I'll have no access to their unified force. Without their conjoined political power to manoeuvre, I'll have no way to get the Vindice to hear me out, far less to negotiate the terms of Mukuro's release. In conclusion, they have what we need to save Mukuro, but won't give it to me until I prove I'm worthy of it; they won't just hand it over to me because I'm 'me.' Get it?"

Both guardians present nodded in unison, simultaneously having processed and accepted the issue.

Now all that was left was problem solution.

How did the omnivore plan to earn the confidence of the mafia? No offense to the infant's training regimen, but as impressive as the former herbivore's growth was, he wasn't exactly 'Godfather'-material just yet.

A tranquil silence reigned as Tsuna sat down and concentrated on what must have been the old carnivore's report on the Alliance's consensus on the motion to set Mukuro Rokudo free. Chrome napped, Hibari himself rested against the far wall, shamelessly enjoying the view of his deliciously serious omnivore, and Hibird sang all the sweetest songs he'd learnt from Hibari's little sister, Kyoumi. The little ball of puff was trying to show off to the preoccupied lion club as he nestled even more deeply into that impossibly soft mane of hair that just invited others to touch.

That peace didn't last too much longer though. Barely two minutes later found Tsuna unwittingly interrupting Hibird's concert with the sounds of burning refuse as he hastily ripped one page after another out of the reply presented by his predecessor's office. Mercilessly, he incinerated each sheet with his bare hands immediately after tearing them out of their compilation; no gloves, pills or bullets required.

Well, there went composure.

Excited by the display, Hibari positively leered when, two-thirds the way through the thick document, Tsuna apparently decided to cremate what was left of the pitiful excuse of a report, (binder and all). He was utterly nauseated by the level of cowardice displayed by supposedly hardened Mafioso. Not to mention the willingness of fellow human beings' allowance of injustice that was made further hypocritical in the face of their fatal failure to protect the innocent in the first place, not through their ignorance, but through their arrogance in believing they were above dealing with the petty problems of the riffraff, which was worsened further by them ostracizing the survivors immediately following the incident wherein Mukuro saved his companions, eliminating any chance of dispelling lingering resentment and prompting the healing of emotional scars. And then they have the audacity to deny even the thought of Mukuro's release and run their mouths about his precious friend and guardian! The nerve of these repulsive rodents! You'd swear Mukuro had asked for it! That Ken and Chikusa had asked for it! That all those poor children who hadn't survived long enough to truly live, probably spending day after day begging for respite, for somebody, anybody to save them, had asked for such a tragic fate…! No, not fate, but instead 'betrayal.' Those bastards had known. They had all known.

And yet…they did nothing.

So for what purpose did they exist except to aid the defenseless? To lie? To steal? To kill? And for what? To become rich? Powerful?

It was sickening.

Again understanding Mukuro-tachi's perspective, his heart gave an agonizing throb in sympathy at what they must have suffered. No. Rather, what they were still suffering. Mukuro was stuck in that horrendous cage, and Ken and Chikusa were lost without him, despite Sawada Nana's son's devoted attentions. And to make matters worse, there was the issue of Chrome! Whatever it took, Tsuna swore to himself, he would free Mukuro.

Turning towards his awaiting tutor and the taller male whose trademark leather gakuran still hung off his shoulders, he proclaimed his resolve. The glow of the dissipating document was so thoroughly desiccated, that, as it dispelled into naught but flickers that were beyond even the point where they were recognizable as ash, they reflected alluringly off his stunningly fierce features. Thence, he wasted no time in saying, "Fuck this. Reborn, please gather the others. Kyoya, notify Tetsuya of your absence: we're going to Italy."

And all Hibari could say in response to the look that promised absolute war in those seething, searing caramel embers that scorched his very soul was:

"Wow."

Gentle, indeed.