Tsuna limped out of the bathroom only to freeze dead in his tracks.
Someone had taken over his bed. The culprit was lying back against a plush mountain of pillows, eyes closed and feet casually crossed at the ankles. He looked like he'd been napping there for hours.
Tsuna threw a glance around.
Polished shoes had been neatly set by the front door. A fedora hat and black tie were hung on the back of a chair, and steam wafted from a brown paper cup set on the nightstand. The scent of black coffee, thick and easily identifiable, washed over the room.
Tsuna's lips parted. He let out a tiny choked sound.
"You."
Reborn wiggled a couple of lazy fingers in the air. "Me."
Tsuna hobbled toward the front door. He grabbed the handle. The door swung open.
"I locked it," Tsuna said to the empty stairs. He checked the latch. "I know I locked it before going to bed last night."
It was already the fifth time Reborn had sneaked unnoticed into his place. As if he'd grown bored of meeting up with Tsuna outside and relished the challenge of a good ol' breaking-and-entering stunt, the man was now barging in whenever he felt like startling Tsuna into panic attacks. It was getting out of hand. Fast.
Tsuna closed the door.
"How do you get in everyday?"
"Magic."
Tsuna kicked one of the black shoes away from the doormat.
Reborn cracked an eye open. "Very mature," he commented dryly.
"You can't keep doing this – it's illegal!"
"If you're not happy, try to stop me."
As if.
Tsuna might as well stand between a lion and a dead carcass, and tell it, bad kitty, no.
"I should report you." He stepped away from the other shoe before the four-year-old in him could start stomping on it like a furious elephant. "Get you arrested and thrown in jail."
It wouldn't work, of course, but the fantasy of having protection against criminals one phone call away was still nice to entertain.
"The police?" Reborn nimbly shifted onto his side, supporting his head with a hand. He smirked. "Call them. We'll find a way to fit them in your training."
Tsuna glowered death at the hitman.
Training was not how he would have labelled the hellish running sessions Reborn had started to put him through as soon as he'd recovered from his cold three weeks ago. That word was too tame, too mundane. It didn't carry enough horror to fit the situation. Days after days of puking in the bushes and waking up with muscle cramps that could make Olympic athletes weep in agony had left Tsuna with strong opinions on the matter.
"You're a menace," he told Reborn bitterly.
Body wrecked with exhaustion, he stumbled toward the table on shaky legs. Everything ached and throbbed. He almost didn't make it to a chair before collapsing.
Reborn watched his progress, noting and cataloging every wince and curse. "Cramps?"
If lightning could come out of his eyes, Tsuna would have fried the psychopath right then and there.
"Yes."
The corners of Reborn's mouth twitched. "Eh."
Jerk.
Tsuna carefully bent in half and started to massage his calves. So much for stretching routines before exercising.
Ow.
"Be positive," Reborn purred from the bed. "This pain is weakness leaving your body. You should be grateful for it."
Tsuna snorted. He wasn't feeling grateful, not even one bit –
Wait.
There was a small paper bag on the table. It hadn't been there before.
"What's this?"
"Breakfast."
Huh.
Tsuna opened the bag, revealing croissants and raisin buns. He poked at them. They were still warm.
What even.
Tsuna closed the bag.
"Are they poisoned?"
A pillow instantly slammed into his face.
"Don't be an ungrateful brat," Reborn growled.
Tsuna spluttered, nose stinging. "That hurt!"
"If I wanted you dead, I wouldn't need poison to get rid of you, Baka-Tsuna."
You wouldn't see me, was the implied threat. You would never realize how you'd died.
Tsuna had to agree. A soundless bullet into the brain was more in line with Reborn's style than some convoluted ways of slipping poisons in pastries.
"Eat," Reborn said. "You skip breakfast far too often."
Only a dedicated stalker would know that.
Feeling somewhat resigned, Tsuna put the pillow on the chair next to him and looked back at the paper bag. Those croissants smelled good. His stomach let out a rumble. He gave in, grabbed one, and bit into it.
Mmh, yes. Definitely right out of the oven. The pastry was crisp on the outside and just the right sort of pillowy on the inside. It tasted of high-quality butter coming from a good farm and Tsuna immediately knew whose croissant he was eating. He swallowed, vaguely praying that Cinzia would never discover that Reborn was looting her goods.
The chair on the other side of the table made a scraping noise as it was dragged over the floor.
Reborn sat down. He was staring at the croissant in Tsuna's hands with a complex expression, his attention focused on each bite Tsuna was taking.
That was weird.
Well.
Weirder than usual.
Tsuna finished the croissant and licked his fingers self-consciously. "Do I have something on my face?" he muttered, patting his cheeks.
Reborn didn't answer.
He picked up a raisin bun and just looked at it for a moment, thoughts whirling behind black eyes. A ripple of determination ran across his features. He held out the pastry to Tsuna.
And then, casual as you please, he dropped a bomb by announcing, "I'm leaving."
Tsuna jerked upright.
"For a job," Reborn continued. He plucked a raisin and popped it in his mouth. "I'll be back in a week."
"You ... will?"
"Of course. I never leave a project unfinished, and you're very much that." Reborn shot a sly look at Tsuna. "Why? Were you worried I wouldn't come back?"
Tsuna abruptly felt very stupid for the jolt of panic that had shot through his system.
Reborn had a job to do. That meant someone was going to die, didn't it? Maybe several someone. And yet, even knowing all this, Tsuna's mind had entirely by-passed the potential deaths to get stuck on the possibility that Reborn was going to vanish without a trace.
He didn't like what that implied.
He didn't like it at all.
"Still hungry?" Reborn asked lightly, waving the bun in the air like a bait.
Tsuna snatched it with a squeak, ears burning.
He didn't care, dammit.
Reborn put his elbows on the table and steepled his fingers under his chin as he watched Tsuna eat. He looked satisfied. And smug. Way too smug.
Something was definitely amiss with the whole food thing. Tsuna stopped mid-chew.
"Seriously. Are they poisoned?"
.
.
Reborn left the following day, and with him went away all the crazy in Tsuna's life. No more hitmen. No more stalkers. No more mafia shenanigans. It was nice – until it wasn't anymore.
Why? Where you worried I wouldn't come back?
Tsuna mentally swatted the annoying voice out of his thoughts and focused on not tripping. He stumbled out of the tree line like a zombie. Behind him, a well-travelled path stretched out into the woods for several miles. It was lit by lampposts placed at regular intervals, but no one was jogging under their artificial lights. The sky was just starting to turn pink. Dawn hadn't even been a spark on the horizon when Tsuna had set off earlier that morning. Normal, sane people had still been in bed.
He came to a stop onto the withered grass of the soccer practice field. His legs gave out. He fell, a puppet whose strings had been cut, and lay panting and gasping on the ground.
Oh my God, he thought dizzily as the world spun and spun around him. What am I doing?
Reborn had been gone for five days. There was no logical explanation as to why Tsuna was still stupidly, faithfully pushing himself through the fiend's nightmarish work-out program. It wasn't like anyone was going to fire bullets at him for being lazy. He wasn't being actively threatened. It was safe to rest.
Besides, this was his day off. Neither Cinzia or Ottone expected him at the bakery. He could have slept in. He could have had a long, warm shower. Hell, he could even have decided to spend the day inside, binge-watching stupid shows and gorging himself on junk food.
So why?
Tsuna stared at the sky, trying to get his breathing back under control.
Get up, idiot, Reborn's voice echoed again in his ears. Start stretching before you cool down.
Tsuna rolled over with a groan and pushed up to his feet.
Clearly, he'd gone insane.
.
.
"You need to stop making that constipated face. It's weirding people out."
As if to prove Cinzia's point, the kind old man who'd just bought a baguette threw one last puzzled glance at Tsuna before stepping out of Little Trinci. The doorbell jingled once and then they were alone in the front shop.
"Sorry," Tsuna said sheepishly.
Cinzia was tinkering with the register machine, rearranging the bills of five and ten euros in neat little rows. She frowned at him.
"What's wrong with you?"
"Nothing's wrong."
"Huh-huh."
"Really." Tsuna started to tidy up the desserts behind the showcase, shuffling cupcakes and brownies around. "Everything's fine."
"Liar. Now try again with the truth."
Tsuna pinched his lips together. He picked up a rag and wiped the empty shelves. Nervous energy buzzed under his skin. He had to move, to keep busy and avoid thinking about useless things.
"Tsuna?"
"Reborn's not back yet," Tsuna blurted. The words came rushing out of his mouth and he immediately wanted to swallow them back.
But there it was.
He'd said it.
All the worry he'd tried to keep buried inside bubbled to the surface like acid. A week, Reborn had said, and he'd never been the type to tolerate lateness in others or himself – so why was there still no sign of him almost ten days after he'd left?
Cinzia closed the register machine. "Oh, I know," she crowed. "No one's been pilfering my pastries lately."
Tsuna winced. "You noticed?"
She pinned him with a hard look. "I know everything that goes on in this place."
Maybe it wasn't such a bad thing that Reborn hadn't come back, after all.
Tsuna finished cleaning. The knot of tension in his belly refused to go away. He should find something else to do. Maybe Ottone needed help in the kitchen or –
"Look at me."
Slender fingers abruptly grabbed his chin and yanked down.
Tsuna squawked.
"Don't move," Cinzia ordered, holding his face as she stared at him.
"What?" He flailed a little. "What?"
Blue eyes became twin slits of suspicion.
"You," she started slowly. "What are you worrying about?"
"That's not – I'm not –"
"Shut up, you're not fooling anyone. I know this face. It's the same one you made last month when you dropped your phone in the bowl of pasta."
Did she really have to go there? They'd agreed to never talk about the bowl of pasta again!
Cinzia peered at him a moment longer. She let go with a muttered, "Crap."
"What now?"
"You're worried about him."
Tsuna turned around to hide a grimace. Cinzia had always been uncannily good at hitting the bullseye. He sort of wanted to crawl into a hole and disappear.
"I'm not," he mumbled.
A pointy finger poked between his shoulder blades. "You are."
The images he had been trying to ignore all along of Reborn lying somewhere in a ditch, bleeding out or unconscious, swirled in his head. The finger at his back stabbed him harder, as if to say, cut the bullshit.
Tsuna wriggled away.
"I'm not," he said again, louder. "It's just–"
One week.
That had been three days ago.
Tonight would make it four.
"It's just he said he'd be back on Wednesday, so maybe there was a problem, maybe something went wrong. Because I know he would rather kill someone than be late and he didn't call or anything and what if something happened to him and –"
"Tsuna," Cinzia interrupted. "You're rambling."
Blood rushing into Tsuna's cheeks.
God.
He was such a mess.
The look on Cinzia's face was nothing short of flabbergasted. "You do realize the chances of him happening to someone else are far more likely, don't you?"
"You can't be sure," Tsuna said, voice tiny and weak.
"No, I know he's fine. Bastard's too stubborn to die." She paused, wrinkling her nose. "Holy shit."
Tsuna opened his mouth.
She thrust a hand in front of him.
"Wait. Give me a minute. I need to think. Because apparently we're worrying about the asshole now. What the hell."
While she was busy scowling at the ceiling, Tsuna took a few steps back until he hit the wall. He slid down into a crouch.
A ball of horrified realization was stuck in his throat. He could scream denials at Cinzia all day long, but deep inside he'd already understood. Somehow, someway, without him noticing, he'd started to care. Reborn had become more than a threat, more than an annoying stalker – he'd become important.
And it was fun.
Just a little. Every now and then.
Like splashes of color splattered over a white canvas.
Tsuna blanched.
When had this happened?
.
.
Late afternoon turned into evening and with it came a big storm.
It rolled over the downtown area rapidly, all flashing lightning and rumbling thunder. Strong gusts of wind howled between high buildings, plastering clothes to people's bodies and drilling straight into their bones.
Tsuna's umbrella was nearly wrenched out of his hands as he ran down the street. People scurried around him, trying and failing to find a shelter where to hide from the storm. Admittedly, going out to buy Chinese take-away hadn't been the brightest idea. Tsuna hunched over, trying to make himself into a smaller target. Rain started to fall harder. It trickled down his face and dripped past his scarf into the fabric of his pullovers. He was going to freeze to death for some fried rice and a few pieces of lemon beef.
Classic.
Drenched and shivering, Tsuna barely made it back home. His fingers were numb and clumsy from the cold. He almost dropped his keys several times only to discover upon shoving them in the keyhole that the door was already unlocked.
Someone had let themselves in while he'd been gone.
Tsuna slowly pushed the door open. "Reborn?"
Complete silence.
Everything was dark inside. The only source of light came from the lampposts out in the street, a faint glow made blurry by the awful weather. No sound. No movement. The semi-darkness felt thick and oppressive.
The hair on the back of Tsuna's neck rose.
"Hello?"
A shadow shifted near the window.
"Over here, Baka-Tsuna," Reborn's voice called back,
Relief rammed into Tsuna.
"Welcome back," he said, then paused. The greeting felt too familiar and intimate to be comfortable. Oh, well. Tsuna toed off his shoes. He doubted Reborn would notice anyway. He flipped a switch and light buzzed to life on the ceiling.
Reborn was sitting on the window sill, one elbow resting on a bent knee while his other foot, bare and pale, was on the floor. Clothes lay disregarded all over the place. The black jacket of an expensive suit was half-hanging from the TV cabinet and a tie had been unceremoniously dumped on the rug under the coffee table. A black shoe was partly hidden by the bed while the other one had slid to a stop next to the nightstand. It looked like Reborn had undressed as he moved toward the back of the apartment, dropping everything on his way without sparing a second thought for the mess he left behind.
Tsuna put the bag of Chinese food on the table.
"Are you okay?"
Reborn didn't look away from the window. "I'm fine."
But now that Tsuna was really focusing on him, he could see the way Reborn's black dress shirt was slightly bulging over his chest. A piece of white peeked from under the unbuttoned collar. Some red teased the eye with each move.
Every concern and worry Tsuna had felt over the past couple of days slammed into him like a sledgehammer. His mind went strangely blank.
Those were bandages – bandages stained with blood.
"You're hurt," he said, voice full of disbelief.
Reborn was invincible. Strong. Lethal. His very presence felt larger than life, a chaotic force of nature that swept everything in his wake. He wasn't supposed to bleed.
Tsuna sort of wanted to throw up.
Reborn glanced down at his shoulder and gave a little tug at the top of the bandages. "This is just a scratch." He shrugged. "Nothing important."
"It doesn't look like a scratch," Tsuna croaked.
"I said it's fine. Drop it."
Tsuna bit back a protest.
He stood there for a moment, a gawking idiot wavering between the need to tell Reborn to go lie down and the impulse to call an ambulance and have the man carted off to the nearest hospital. Neither scenario was likely to end well.
"Are you – are you in pain?"
Reborn's head slowly pivoted around.
A beat of silence.
Then,
"What."
"I asked –"
"No, I heard you," Reborn cut him off, sounding caught somewhere between incredulous and outraged. "I'm just deciding how hard I need to hit your head to get you to stop being ridiculous."
Alright, that question may have been a bit of a strategical mistake.
Tsuna moved a little to the left, putting the table and chairs between the two of them.
Still – ridiculous?
The number of bandages wrapped around Reborn's torso hinted at a serious wound. Tsuna knew first-hand how bad it could hurt to just breathe when your upper body had been hurt. Torn flesh tended to burn as if a fire had been lit inside, and stitches itched and stung like mad even hours after they'd been made. Tsuna clearly remembered each sensation. Silver scars ran all over his body, crawling days and night with unwanted memories.
No.
There was nothing ridiculous about pain.
With one last glare, Reborn brought his attention back to the street outside. He sat in silence, stiff and rigid, and offered no further explanation.
Tsuna shrugged off his coat. He took a tiny step around the table. When no bullets came whistling at him, he heaved a sigh and went to sit on the bed.
He waited.
Rain hit the window pane. Heavy drops ran down the glass. Lightning flashed. A minute passed. Then two and three.
"Do you know why I work alone, Baka-Tsuna?" Reborn suddenly asked.
Tsuna startled. "I, hm, no?"
"Because people are a pain in the ass. And because I've got no patience for stuttering imbeciles unable to get their jobs done properly."
Epics about the incompetence of men were crammed into those two sentences.
Tsuna didn't move an inch.
Reborn tapped a finger against the window. "By now, my reputation is well established, but that also means some people regularly try to trap me into ... permanent types of contracts. It's as if they believe they're the first moron to have the bright idea to get themselves a dog." He smiled at the storm, jagged and wide. "One bullet is usually enough to set them straight."
Tsuna looked down at his hands. It was obvious that something had gone wrong. Reborn was just dancing around the main issue.
"What happened?"
"I made an exception." The smile was wiped clean of Reborn's face. "I agreed to follow someone else's orders. As expected, they messed up."
Invisible Flames swelled in the room. They surged forward, a slow but fiery wave growing like the tide until the whole room was saturated with heat.
It felt like a punch in the guts.
Tsuna let out a wheezing breath.
He gripped the edge of the mattress, bracing himself against the onslaught, sensing the way Sun Flames scoured every surface in the living room, how they stretched and prowled and snapped at empty air.
"I am," Reborn gritted out, "displeased."
Such a gift for understatement. Displeased wasn't the word Tsuna would have used to describe the note of sheer murder vibrating in Reborn's voice. Someone was going to die. Probably him. Tsuna waited for the usual debilitating panic to kick him in the teeth. It didn't come.
"Why did you make an exception?"
Black eyes drilled into Tsuna. "Personal. Reasons."
Two words, clipped out and laced around a warning. Tsuna heard it loud and clear. Fine, no more prying then. The goosebumps peppering his skin from the storm earlier gradually faded. For a moment, Tsuna just sat there, soaking in the furious heat, a moron literally thrust into the cooking pot and still not trying to run away. It was as if his body recognized Reborn's Flames now. Adrenaline refused to kick in. His fight or flight instinct was sound asleep.
Tsuna frowned.
A lot of unpleasant realizations were hitting him out of nowhere lately. It wasn't exactly a series of pleasant experiences.
Reborn unlocked his jaw. "Aren't you going to ask for details?"
No, thank you.
Digging deeper than this didn't seem like a viable idea.
"You should," Reborn pushed. "After all, you are directly concerned."
Tsuna stared.
You.
Are directly.
Concerned.
Did that mean what he thought it did?
A baker's adopted son was no one, and nobody cared about a kid barely out of high school. Tsuna had no money. He wasn't famous or important. He had no value whatsoever.
Except for one thing.
... oh.
His mind immediately shied away from the remaining possibility.
No.
(Yes.)
Reborn hadn't moved from his place near the window. He watched Tsuna, eyes glinting with gold. There was something expectant hanging in the air between them. An answer to give. A plunge to take.
Tsuna looked away with a cringe. Staring contests had never been his forte, especially not with upset Suns.
Reborn abruptly stood up. "This was a mistake."
What the –
Tsuna's head snapped up so fast he almost got whiplash. Reborn brushed past him as he headed for the front door.
Tsuna scrambled forward to stand between him and the exit. "Wait!"
Reborn pulled up short of bulldozing him over. He looked deeply irritated. "Get out of the way, Baka-Tsuna. I'll come back later."
"No."
Reborn's fingers twitched toward the gun strapped at his side.
Tsuna pretended he didn't see anything. Unrest fluttered in his system, making him jittery with nerves. He couldn't explain why, not even to himself, but it felt like he would fail some sort of test if he allowed Reborn to leave.
"You – you can sleep on my bed tonight," Tsuna stammered. "I'll sleep on the floor. And there are more pillows in the closet, so we can make sure you're comfortable and. Huh. I think I still have some painkillers from that time I fell down the stairs? We can –"
Fingers wrapped lightly around his throat.
Reborn leaned in, so close his breath ghosted over Tsuna's skin. "I said you're in the way," he repeated icily. "Move."
Tsuna felt his heart skip a beat.
He hated to have anything around his neck. It reminded him too much of the collar he'd carried for years. Of white rooms and white walls and white coats.
Reborn dared – he dared –
Red-hot anger rushed through Tsuna.
He slapped Reborn's hand away. "Stop being a jerk."
The heat blazing in the air faltered.
Reborn looked at his hand as if he'd never seen it before.
"I'm trying to help," Tsuna continued, using all his willpower not to yell. That was a lot of willpower. "Can't you try to cooperate? Just a little?"
Annoyance had reared its ugly head, and with it came bitter disappointment. This was it, then? Tsuna had waited and fretted for days and this was what he got in return – an idiot hitman behaving like a prickly porcupine?
Taking care of someone wasn't supposed to be so hard. Tsuna didn't remember being this difficult when he'd been sick. He had taken his damn medications and then he'd gone to sleep without protesting. He most certainly hadn't assaulted anyone in the process.
Tsuna rubbed his throat.
Reborn's eyes swung back his way. They narrowed. The Sun Flames around them seemed to recover from their surprise. Tsuna felt a spark of heat near his face, like fangs snapping inches away. He didn't react.
"You're insufferable," Reborn snapped. "Aren't you afraid?"
He was.
Reborn scared the living daylight out of him, and he knew all too well how much of a sadistic madman he could be– but right then and there, Tsuna was more worried than afraid. It pissed him off. Back in the devasted landscape of frost and ice, his little sparks of orange Flames hummed their displeasure. They pulsed with frustration, a quiet litany of stupid, and vulnerable, and make-him-rest.
"You won't hurt me."
"Don't be so sure about that. I'm very tempted right now."
"No," Tsuna retorted forcefully. "I know you won't."
Reborn blinked.
He shifted back a little, tilting his head to the side. A calculating expression flitted across his face.
It would have been very easy for him to leave. A single blow, a single flare of Sun Flames, and Tsuna wouldn't have been a bother ever again. Yet he did nothing. Just watched and verbally pushed back without ever escalating things into violence.
Tsuna had been right.
This was some sort of test. He just didn't know what it was about.
The Sun Flames circling them started to eb away.
"Idiot." Reborn let out a long breath. The rigid line of his shoulders loosened. "Never think that someone will hesitate to stab you in the back. Even me."
The casual insult was oddly reassuring.
Tsuna relaxed. "Stay."
"Fine. Don't regret it later."
"I won't."
No place for hesitation or second thoughts. Tiny sparks of Sky Flames sang at the back of his mind. They wouldn't allow him to back down.
"Good."
Reborn turned on his heels and made a bee-line for the bed. He walked with his usual confidence, every step silent and flowing. Tsuna wondered how much it cost him to hide all sign of pain and exhaustion. Probably a lot, he decided. Reborn nabbed a pillow and settled against the wall, acting not at all like he had been aggressively determined to leave moments earlier.
A flash of sanity suddenly hit Tsuna out of nowhere.
He had won.
In an argument with Reborn.
His determination crumbled like a castle of sand.
How close, exactly, had he come to getting a bullet hole in his forehead?
What the hell.
What the hell.
"I, huh. I'll g-get you some water."
Tsuna hurried toward the kitchen sink, then remembered that Reborn only drank mineral water and veered sharply toward the fridge where the hitman stored several bottles.
Reborn accepted the offered glass without a word of thanks. Dark shadows danced on his face as he drained the cool water. Lines that usually didn't exist bracketed his mouth and eyes. Fireflies of orange fire let out another hum of disapproval at the sight.
Tsuna fidgeted.
Long ago, he had asked Ottone and Cinzia a lot of questions about what it meant to be a Sky. He hadn't been one anymore, and there was virtually no chance of him ever needing the knowledge, but he'd still been curious. A Sky was supposed to be harmony, Ottone had explained. A shelter. Balance and comfort and relief embodied in a single Flame. As far as Tsuna was concerned, that was a load of poetic nonsense, because he'd certainly never been any of those things.
But wasn't it exactly what Reborn needed right now?
("After all, you are directly concerned.")
Tsuna had to fix this. He had to try.
He put the glass on the nightstand and went down on his knees.
Reborn didn't look impressed. "If you try to treat me like an invalid, I'll shoot you in both knees."
He wasn't going to make any of this easy, was he?
Tsuna flushed crimson.
No, wait.
He couldn't let himself be rattled. Falling into Reborn's pace was bound to drive him up the wall, and he couldn't let that happen if he was going to do this.
Tsuna took a deep, calming breath, then focused on channeling his fire.
"Here," he said, not managing more than a whisper. "This should help."
Hopefully.
There was still a good chance for the whole thing to go pear-shaped and blow up in his face. Quickly, before he could use his brain and actually think, Tsuna put a hand on Reborn's chest and shoved a spark of Sky Flame at the man.
Reborn's whole body lurched forward, like a lunge aborted mid-move. He let out a small hiss.
Tsuna froze.
They stared at each other. Rain battered the window behind them. Lightning flashed.
"Again," Reborn rasped.
Tsuna sent another pulse of weak fire into his palm. It wasn't difficult. The sparks leaped forward eagerly, seeming to move before a command had even been issued.
Reborn pushed against Tsuna's hand in a wordless demand.
More.
There weren't many flickers of Sky Flames left above the ice. Tsuna gathered and offered them all to Reborn anyway. They disappeared, and frost immediately crystalized in his veins.
The blood drained from his face.
Tsuna let out a shuddering breath and it came out in a puff of white steam. This was the first time he'd burned out everything that was left free of his Flames. Strange how much he'd come to rely on the tiny sparks to endure the cold. Without them, he was defenseless. Timoteo's ice sank its claws deeper into him.
Reborn dropped his forehead against Tsuna's.
Sunlight bloomed in the emptiness inside.
"More?" Reborn asked.
"Yes." Tsuna gave a frantic nod. "Yes."
The Sun Flames in Reborn's eyes flared. He bared his teeth in a fierce smile. "Tell me when to stop."
Tsuna didn't want him to stop.
The sensation of so much heat filling him up was intoxicating. It felt like a piece of a missing puzzle suddenly clicking into place, just there under his heart, not quite right, not really, but close enough that he never wanted to let it go again.
The cracks in the ice widened.
They crumbled at the edges and down below – all the way deep below in the abyss – something immensely large started to struggle. It strained, reaching for the sunlight glowing above the ice. A deep yearning rose from the fissures, starving and craving and –
Tsuna pulled away.
His chest was about to split open. Sparks of Sky Flames violently erupted from the cracks in the ice. More and more kept coming.
It hurt.
It hurt so much he wanted to bury a hand into his heart and shove the bits of orange fire back down. Liquid heat coursed in his bloodstream, the searing glare of a midday sun clashing with winter-cold. Everything spun. The floor under his feet was rolling, rising and falling like a rocking wave trying to throw him off.
Someone suddenly yanked him up.
Tsuna blinked.
When had he fallen?
"Calm down," Reborn's voice said from the other end of a long tunnel. "Take a deep breath."
Impossible.
His lungs refused to work. The ice groaned and shifted once again. More pieces fell away. Tsuna bent in half and wrapped his arms around himself to hold all the broken parts together.
That… hadn't been very smart, had it?
It was too much, too fast.
Strong hands grabbed his face and forced him to look up. Reborn's face filled his vision.
"Are you back with me?"
"No," he gasped. He really, really wasn't.
Reborn laughed.
He hauled Tsuna up on the mattress and lay down beside him. Tsuna stared at the ceiling as Reborn settled down. An arm was thrown over his mid-section, heavy and possessive and radiating heat.
It took a long time for the universe to stop spinning.
By the time it did, Reborn was sound asleep and Tsuna didn't want to move.
So he didn't.
.
.
Outsider POV.
Vongola headquarters, two days later.
The man seemed to be in his mid-twenties. He had dark blond hair and clear eyes set in an ordinary face. No one walking past him in the street would have given him a second glance. They certainly wouldn't have pegged him as a criminal.
Lukas glared at the picture displayed on the computer screen. This was the asshole who'd delivered a kick straight to the Vongola's balls. As the Storm Guardian's right hand, it was Lukas's job to find him.
"Who is he?"
"Jenoah Romano," Williams answered. "And he doesn't exist."
Middle aged with a head full of greying black, Williams was a Cloud working under Nono's Cloud Guardian. He'd taken the past couple of minutes especially hard, as if the kidnapping had been a personal attack on his skills as a computer wizard. The fact that Visconti had lit a literal fire under his men when he'd been informed of the disastrous breach of security hadn't helped either.
"What?"
Williams nodded. "The guy's as fake as me promising to never touch booze again after a splurge. Jenoah Romano was never born. He is a ghost."
Lukas felt a vein throbbing at his temple. "Then who the fuck," he ground out, "is the bastard that nabbed the heir of the Chinese Triads right under our fucking nose?"
Williams's fingers flew over the keyboard. "No clue. I'm still digging."
"Find him."
"I'm not a bloody magician. This shit ain't like snapping a finger and getting whatever you want. I need time."
"We don't have time."
Not with Aaron Lee's kid being somewhere out there, hurt and held captive. Or worse.
Please, let it not be worse.
Tension between the Famiglia and the Triads had skyrocketed in the last hour alone. What should have been a visit to renew political agreements had turned into a monstrous clusterfuck. Lukas didn't even want to imagine what would happen if they didn't manage to find the brat before dinner.
(War.)
Lukas sat down in a chair beside Williams. He checked his phone, hoping against hope for good news. He had received three messages. None of them informed him that the missing boy had been found. Lukas rubbed a hand down his face. He really needed a smoke.
The sound of fingers hitting the keyboard stopped.
Williams swivelled around to face him.
"There's more," he said.
Of fucking course, there was.
"Hit me with it."
Williams jerked his chin at the screen. "Jenoah whoever the fuck was already on our radar. I found that fake-ass's name so fast because we had been keeping an eye out for him. Nothing high priority, but still useful."
Interesting.
"And?"
"Remember the shit that went down with the Estraneo Famiglia some years back?"
Lukas did. The Vongola rarely mobilized all its ressources to annihilate another organization but the Estraneo had been as good as wiped out.
"I remember."
"Jenoah used to work for the Estraneo. His file says he was nothing more than a grunt but the connection's still there."
Lukas swore under his breath.
It was like peeling the layers of a fucked-up onion. Just when you thought things couldn't get any worse, you uncovered another goddamn problem.
Everyone knew why Nono had decided to move against the Estraneo. The bastards had been experimenting on children. They'd grabbed the kids from their families, regardless of gender or age, and they'd cut them open to study their Dying Will Flames. Countless Famiglias had been touched. The majority had ended up mourning a son or a daughter.
But that wasn't all.
Lukas had heard whispers – whispers about how it wasn't just any kid that had been taken from the Vongola. Iemitsu Sawada had spearheaded the attack against the Estraneo and some people had talked. Lukas didn't particularly like the man but he could empathize. Losing a child was always hard, but losing him in those circumstances? Hell wouldn't begin to describe it.
"Show me the video again," Lukas demanded. Might as well burn onto his retina the image of the sick jackass.
Williams hit a couple of keys.
The screen flickered and the scene of a boy sitting under the shade of a tall tree started playing. The kid was Lee's son. Ten years old with a pretty face, he was slowly, working through some sort of routine, a series of martial arts movements executed in slow-motion with perfect ease. A team of four bodyguards was stationed around him, each one facing a different direction. For a couple of seconds, nothing happened.
And then the image went black.
When it came back a split second later, the four bodyguards were down while the boy lay slumped on the floor. A tall man who had appeared out of nowhere bent down and picked him up in a firefighter hold. One of the bodyguards aimed a trembling hand at the pair. Jenoah stomped on the limb and the weak sparks of Rain Flames the bodyguard had summoned were snuffed out. A kick promptly took care of the nuisance.
Lukas's hands clenched into tight fists.
On the screen, Jenoah paused and turned around to look straight at the camera. He smiled.
"It's like he wanted us to see him," Lukas said. "The asshole's playing with us."
Williams grunted in agreement. "Here." He held out a file that held all the information they had on the kidnapping so far. "You should get going. Don't keep Coyote waiting. I heard he's on a warpath."
Weren't they all?
Lukas took the file. Around them, the control room was like a hive that had been kicked into overdrive. People worked hard and fast, grimly focused on doing their part to prevent an international conflict.
Lukas turned toward the door. "Call me as soon as you've got anything new."
"Will do."
Lukas walked away. He didn't know what sort of expression he was making, but people scrambled out of his way as soon as they caught a glimpse of his face. That was fine. He didn't feel like putting on a civil mask right now. Electricity buzzed between his fingers, green lightning itching to find and destroy a target.
Lukas pushed the door open.
A tall and slender man was waiting for him on the other side. His hands were held in front of him, folded inside the long sleeves of a red, tradional Chinese tunic. The contrast of the bright fabric with his dark eyes and black hair was arresting.
"Did I hear something about your team finding a suspect?" The man smiled, soft and serene and holy fuck, Lukas was going to die.
This was a restricted area. No outsider was supposed to put a single toe in that hallway. Whatever. Lukas wasn't going to be the poor sucker to point that out.
"I'm going to meet with Nono's Storm Guardian," he said roughly. "Follow me. I'll explain on the way."
He took the lead and headed for the stairs.
Fon Eye-Of-The-Storm followed.
.
.
More character development. Reborn and Tsuna are fumbling in the dark right now. They're very stupid and stubborn and adorable. It's fun to write. And don't worry, you'll get to find out what happened to Reborn later. In the meantimes, any theory?
Also, sorry for the long wait. Soon, I'll have more free time and the next update shouldn't take so long (fingers crossed).
Until next time,
Rei.