The night was on fire.
An intense orange glow illuminated the horizon while the lights of squad cars flashed red and blue near the ground. A crowd of curious on-lookers pressed against a police blockade, phones held high overhead to record the big cloud of smoke rising above the top of the nearby forest. Dozens of conversations came from everywhere all at once, a background of concern and nosiness that provided absolutely no information.
Tsuna stared out at the scene from inside a taxi. Everything looked disorganized and confusing. Sane people probably went out of their way to avoid situations like this one. Which meant Tsuna should turn around and run away as fast as possible.
His Flames disagreed, giving him the mental equivalent of a sharp pinch.
It hurt.
Tsuna flinched, so hard he smacked his face against the window.
The taxi driver frowned at him.
At any other time, such an expression would have sent Tsuna spiraling in a bout of stuttering awkwardness and crippling embarrassment. But not now, not when it was becoming alarmingly obvious that Reborn was involved up to his eyeballs in some sort of grand criminal stunt straight out of a Hollywood movie.
What did Reborn think he was doing anyway? Assassins were supposed to be discreet. Unseen and unheard. Subtle. And this? This was so far from subtle it had entirely bypassed Kinda Noticeable to crash and burn right smack in the middle of Breaking News.
Another pinch, followed by a twist.
There. Over there.
Tsuna's hands clenched into tight fists.
Alright. No more beating around the bush. Time to pull out the big guns. Tsuna was going to walk out there, he was going to get his hands on Reborn, and then he was going to drag the jerk back home and pretend none of this had happened. The meltdown clawing at the back of his mind would have to wait, preferably until he could lock himself in a bathroom for a week and bawl his eyes out so hard he passed out.
The taxi driver leaned over his steering wheel and peered through the windshield. "You sure you want me to drop you off here?"
That would be an emphatic, no.
"Yes," Tsuna croaked. "Thank you."
"Your call." The man taped the taximeter above his dashboard. "I only take cash."
"R-right."
Tsuna patted his empty pockets. It was no use. Money refused to materialize out of the void. He was as penniless as he had been while hiding in the train toilets, terrified of being discovered and deported to the nearest police station.
What was the sentence for taking a taxi knowing you couldn't pay for the ride? Tsuna was pretty sure he could be charged with fraud and thievery. That meant jail. Possibly years in jail. Five or ten. Maybe more?
Eek.
Tsuna swayed, panic choking him up. His vision started to blur. This was a disaster.
"You okay?"
"Huh-huh." Tsuna fumbled for the door handle. He found it. Pulled. "I, hm. I'll just –"
He flung himself out of the taxi.
"Hey!"
The driver's angry shout echoed behind him as he took off at a dead run.
"You stop right there, you little punk!"
Tsuna clambered away with a horrified squeak.
Holy crap.
Holy crap.
That was it. He was some sort of lawbreaker now, a runaway delinquent that was going to be locked up behind bars because he was too stupid to think of bringing his wallet. The driver had seen his face. He could pick him out of a line up. Everything was over. Tsuna's life was over. Reborn had finally managed to push him into criminality and he wasn't even there to sort out the mess!
It was outrageous.
Forget about dragging him back home, Tsuna was going to strangle the asshole to death and then use the reward put on his head to pay for bail.
Sweating bullets, Tsuna weaved in and out of the crowd. He drew a large circle until he was sure no one was following him. A frazzled glance behind him revealed the taxi driver was nowhere to be seen. So far, so good. Tsuna started to push his way to the front, using his shoulders and elbows to move forward and nudge people aside. It wasn't easy. The crowd of noisy bystanders was tightly packed. Startled exclamations erupted in his wake.
"Excuse me…Please, let me – here. Sorry. I – ow."
Somehow, he made it to the police blockade. He squeezed past two old ladies, and they reluctantly inched away, grumbling. It made just enough space to show the yellow barricade tape stretching across the road. The perimeter beyond was clearly off-limit.
Tsuna stopped there.
His mouth dropped open.
Firetrucks, police cars, and ambulances were all parked along the countryside road. Men and women in various uniforms bustled about, radios crackling and badges shining with every move. Orders were barked, people scrambled to follow them, and it looked like no one knew what was going on exactly.
Organized chaos didn't even begin to describe it.
Tsuna stared.
Another poke of orange Flames, urgent and stinging and hurry up.
"Cut it out," Tsuna hissed under his breath.
He swept a look around. No fedora hat anywhere in sight. No hint of that stupidly expensive suit. No snarky hitman lurking in the shadows.
Tuna lifted the tape.
Like a shark detecting blood in the water, a policewoman immediately zeroed in on him.
"Stop!" She walked over, brisk and annoyed. "Step back. Can't you see you're not supposed to go farther than that?"
"Sorry." Tsuna flushed. "I just – I think I need to go over there?"
The tape was yanked out of his hands.
"What you need to do is to let us do our jobs."
"But –"
The woman glowered. "Did someone you know get lost around here?"
Lost per say was a bit of a stretch.
"No."
A finger stabbed straight at the forest, pointing toward the distant fire. "Then do you live this way?"
Tsuna shook his head miserably.
"Right." He policewoman glared at him, as if saying, I can't believe how much of a little shit you're being right now. "Again, I'm going to ask you to step back. It's dangerous."
Tsuna groaned.
Short of making a run for it he didn't see how he could avoid getting stuck there between the two old ladies for the rest of the night. He needed to do something.
As if reading his thoughts, the policewoman's eyes narrowed. She stayed planted right beside him, watching him like a hawk, apparently ready and willing to tackle him to the ground if he moved a single toe the wrong way.
This was just great.
Tsuna fidgeted, wringing his hands – and made eye-contact with a police officer that was talking to a group of paramedics not far from the blockade. It wouldn't have been anything noteworthy except that the man abruptly stiffened, freezing mid-word as if he'd slammed face first into a wall.
Tsuna watched, dumbfounded, as the cop recovered a split second later and came hurtling in their direction.
"Let him through," he called as soon as he was within earshot.
The policewoman turned to face the newcomer. "Do you know him?"
"Yeah. Sure." The man lifted the tape. "Let's go with that."
The woman muttered something unflattering and shifted a little to the side.
The cop motioned Tsuna forward. "Decimo, this way."
Tsuna gawked.
Decimo.
Heir.
Boss.
(Little brother.)
Beside them, the policewoman had gone completely still.
"Sir?"
Tsuna's limbs moved with a jerk. "Yes."
"Come with me. I'll take you to your men."
Tsuna's brain stuttered back to life, reset, and then proceeded to flood his system with an almost painful rush of adrenaline.
The policeman started to walk away. Tsuna scrambled after him.
"We weren't told to expect you," the cop said. "Did you come alone?"
Tsuna struggled to keep up. "Hm. It was ... something of a last second decision?"
Literally.
"Still. If you can, try get a word of warning out next time. It'll save trouble for everybody." The man stopped next to a patrol car. "Get in." A pause. "Please."
Tsuna slipped onto the passenger seat. The car smelled of leather and tobacco. There were torn fast food wrappers on the floor by his feet. An empty bottle of water. Some crumpled tickets. Clearly, someone was spending a lot of time away from home.
The cop sat next to Tsuna, slammed his door shut, and then turned the key in the ignition. The engine gave a deep rumble and off they went, leaving the fray behind. The lights in the rear-view mirrors disappeared, replaced by the tall silhouettes of massive trees. An old forest loomed all around. There was no lamp post to pierce the night. The road curved slightly and they were swallowed by the darkness.
Just as Tsuna was beginning to wonder if he was about to get brutally murdered in the woods, the cop shifted gear. The car slowed down. They drove past the tree line and came to a stop at the edge of a large parking lot, one that offered an unencumbered view of a huge mansion nestled in a wide circle of manicured lawn. The house was ancient, an imposing monster sprawling out toward the surrounding forest.
And it was on fire.
As if a bomb had exploded under its foundations, the right wing of the residence lay in ruins. Flames were eating at the main entrance and a good part of the second floor. Shouts drifted all the way to the parking lot, frequently punctuated by rounds of gunshots.
Tsuna's stomach lurched.
A strange sensation hit him out of nowhere, like dirty water washing down over him, thick and slimy, robbing him of breath and sending his heart thudding against his ribcage.
It was this place. This place was the reason why he'd left his bed, why he'd crossed the country with no destination in mind, why he so desperately wanted to find his wayward Sun and beg him to leave together, now, right now.
Tsuna stumbled out of the car.
Reborn.
He had to find Reborn.
"Sir?"
Tsuna glanced at his guide and realized the man was one of the few cops present in the parking lot.
Gone was the crowd of frantic uniforms. The place had been set up as a kind of temporary command center, with expensive cars parked close together to form a wall of protection. People had gathered around it, some talking into wireless headphones, others reading papers spread out over a stretchers someone had stolen from one of the two ambulances that waited a little further back, closer to the trees and away from the fighting.
None of these people looked like typical law enforcement or medical assistants.
Here, the top of a tattoo peeked up around the collar of a woman's shirt. And there, a thin scar bisecting a man's eyebrow right under his piercings. Everyone was serious and focused. The whole operation was coldly efficient, like the cogs of a well-oiled machine that turned and shifted without a hitch.
And it had mafia written all over it.
An old woman trotted past Tsuna, noticed him, and gave a sharp nod of acknowledgement. "Decimo," she said, before continuing on her way.
Tsuna threw up.
He leaned against the side of the car and hurled. Bile splashed on the asphalt. Sweat burned his eyes.
"Whoa!" His driver arrived next to him. "Are you okay?"
"Yes," Tsuna said, voice two octaves too high. "I'm completely–"
He heaved again.
More bile hit the cement. Tsuna wiped his mouth, panting. That wouldn't do. He couldn't vomit on his brother's subordinates each time someone tried to talk to him. Standing around in his pajamas while impersonation a mafia leader was bad enough.
The cop turned away from the puddle on the ground with a grimace. "Do you want me to call someone?"
"No!"
The man blinked.
"I-I mean," Tsuna stammered. "I'm alright now. Thank you for the, huh, lift, but you should go back and –"
Alarmed exclamations erupted all over the parking lot.
Tsuna whipped around, just in time to see the flames licking the roof of the mansion's left wing flare brightly. A small explosion rocked the bricked walls. Tsuna gaped. He was pretty sure he'd caught a glimpse of purple fire tearing through stone and glass.
There. His own Flames poked him. This is where we must go.
They were pointing straight at the warzone.
Of course, they were.
"You've got to be kidding me," Tsuna moaned.
"Excuse me?"
"Nothing." Tsuna looked back at the policeman. "Do you – do you know what's happening?"
A shrug. "Rumors have it someone got snatched from the Vongola headquarter."
Taken.
As in abducted? While the Triads were visiting? Because that sort of explained all the fighting and fires and general destruction of property with extreme prejudice. Nono must have been livid.
"You sure you don't want me to call someone?" the policeman insisted.
Tsuna had to get rid of that guy. The last thing he needed was even more attention.
"No. Really, it's fine. I don't–"
"You."
A voice boomed from behind them like a clap of thunder.
Tsuna paled.
He knew that voice.
Crap.
Heavy footsteps approached.
Tsuna woodenly turned around.
Coyote Nougat stomped over, a fierce scowl darkening his features. Strands of greying hair had come loose from his ponytail and hung around a face Tsuna hadn't seen in years. Deep wrinkles were etched into the skin near his eyes and mouth. He looked like a pissed off Storm about to have a meltdown.
A group of three trailed after him.
The person on the right was clearly foreign. He wore a red Chinese shirt and appeared calm and composed, almost detached, as if the entire world wasn't going to hell in a handbasket right in front of him.
The other two men were Italian. Their similar green eyes and tall frames pegged them as relatives, maybe father and son. Tsuna's attention lingered on the younger of the pair. A fleeting sensation of familiarity tugged at the back of his mind. It was in the slant of those eyes, in the way the man held his shoulders back, tense and rigid and prideful. His jacket was nowhere to be seen and nothing concealed the two sharp knives strapped to firm forearms. Both blades were stained with red.
Ottone stepped right into Tsuna's line of sight.
"What the fuck are you doing?"
"I," Tsuna started.
Coyote whirled on the cop. "Did you bring him here?"
"Yes. The Decimo got stuck at the blockade we set up and I –"
"The Decimo?"
There was a beat of heavy silence.
The policeman faltered, picking up on the tension in the air. "Is there... a problem?"
Coyote's nostrils flared.
Tsuna squirmed. "Huh, yes. About that. I'm –"
"Leave." Coyote's tone carried black clouds and lightning.
The policeman ran away without another word. Tsuna watched his retreating back, a little bitter, wishing he could do the same.
Coyote focused on the trio that had come with him. "If you'll give me a moment," he told the Asian man gruffly. "There are some matters I need to deal with. I'll be right back with you."
"Of course." The man raised his arms in front of him, hands folded inside his sleeves, and gave Tsuna a slight bow. "It was an honor to meet the next leader of your famiglia."
Tsuna's belly gave another spasm.
Don't throw up, he thought, a little hysterical. Don't you dare throw up again.
"N-nice to meet you, too."
The foreigner smiled and left.
Coyote looked like he'd just swallowed a lemon. He shot a glance at his two underlings. "Beat it. We need some fucking privacy over here."
The oldest man inclined his head. "Sir." He tapped his relative's shoulder. "Come on, Vito."
They retreated a few steps, clearing enough space to obey Coyote's order. The Storm watched them closely for a moment. Apparently satisfied with the distance, he turned around and speared Tsuna with a scorching glare.
"The Decimo? What the fuck are you thinking?"
Tsuna opened his mouth.
Then closed it.
Admitting he'd come because the little voice in his head wouldn't leave him alone didn't sound like a good idea. Potential white padded cells aside, it didn't quite explain how he'd landed in the middle of some mafia power play.
"I'm looking for Reborn," he blurted instead.
"Reborn?"
Tsuna nodded quickly. "Do you know where he is?"
Coyote's eyes narrowed. "Did he tell you to come?"
Hah. If only. Unfortunately for them all, Tsuna was a big boy and he didn't need anyone to bury himself under a mountain of problems.
"No, he didn't say anything."
"Then why," Coyote hissed, "are you fucking standing in front of me right now?"
And Tsuna panicked.
Hard.
"I don't know," he babbled. "I don't know what happened and I really don't want to be here any more than you want to see my face, and I'll leave, I swear, I just – I need to find Reborn first, alright? But I don't know how, and this place is insane, and you people keep calling me Decimo and it's freaking me out and I–"
Coyote held a hand up.
Tsuna shut up.
"The Vongola hyper intuition," Coyote said, "is such a bullshit."
Hyper intuition.
They actually had a name for it.
"But it shouldn't be possible. Nono made sure of it."
Timoteo sure had. He'd turned the blood inside Tsuna into ice and had killed the light burning in his bones. He'd said sorry. And he'd left.
Tsuna's shoulders drooped. "Just tell me where Reborn is."
"I don't know," Coyote snapped. "Bastard went off on his own as soon as shit hit the fan. He turned off his radio and no one's seen him since."
Tsuna's eyes shifted to the ruined mansion. Two mafiosos were rushing out the front door, dragging an unconscious figure between them. They clocked the ambulances and started to crawl in that direction.
"I think I could find him," Tsuna said. "He's not here to fight. He just wants information."
Coyote glowered. "Such a bullshit," he repeated.
No kidding.
Tsuna bit his lips. He didn't know what to do. Even if he tried to get to Reborn, he would never make it to the mansion proper. There was no way in hell he'd survive the first stray bullet shot his way. His best bet was to wait up here where it was safe and let competent people handle the situation.
Really, he shouldn't have come at all.
Coyote grabbed Tsuna's elbow. "We've got to hide you before someone figures out your brother's supposed to be on the other side of the continent right now." He paused, then added, tone softening, "Being you, I know this is a shitty situation, but there's nothing you can do."
Tsuna squinted. "What?"
Coyote said a word.
A name.
It cut through Tsuna like a knife.
The ground disappeared from under his feet. Everything froze. No more sounds. No more yells or gunshots or roaring flames. Nothing.
Coyote was still speaking.
Tsuna turned around.
He walked to the edge of the parking lot and stood with the tips of his shoes brushing against fresh grass, watching the mansion.
The right wing was still burning. Small explosions rocked the towering residence. People teemed around the main entrance like ants, like little black insects scurrying left and right, up and down. Running and bleeding and dying.
He should have known, Tsuna thought distantly. This place was a nightmare made out of metal and fire. And he should have known.
He closed his eyes and memories crashed into him. The wide stairs leading to the underground floors with its long and winding hallways. The doors on each side concealing white rooms with their white floors and their white ceilings. People. Long coats and the occasional expensive suits coming over to check on their progresses, to frown and sigh and say, don't waste time. No need to keep the useless ones.
Tsuna's hands moved to his neck. He rubbed the skin there. His fingers found nothing.
"This place," he heard himself say. "It belongs to the Estraneo Famiglia?"
His voice was quiet, steady. Each word was a razor blade sliding down his throat. They tasted like iron and disbelief. Like blood.
Coyote came to stand next to him. He left several feet of space between them. "You didn't know?"
"No."
Coyote muttered a curse.
Tsuna barely heard him. "Didn't you." More blood trickled down his throat. It was odd. The world was muffled, as if his head had been pushed underwater. His fingertips were tingling. He swallowed, started again. "Didn't you get rid of them?"
For a moment, Coyote said nothing.
He was staring at Tsuna, his body angled a little to the side, eyes watchful and serious. Tsuna wondered at the wary expression on Coyote's face. The Storm looked strange. Almost alarmed.
It was funny.
Except Tsuna didn't feel like laughing at all.
"We destroyed their power base," Coyote said slowly. "Killed the boss and his Guardians and very few of their men survived." He clenched his jaw. "We hunted down the rest but–"
"But you didn't get everyone," Tsuna finished.
Because obviously the Estraneo still existed.
And they'd kept on doing to others what they'd done to Tsuna.
Faces flashed in his mind. Boys and girls. Straight hair and brown locks and frizzy curls. Skins dark and pale and freckled. Dozens and dozens of them.
Coyote put a hand on his arm. "Come on. Let's go."
We'll find Reborn later, went unsaid.
Tsuna twitched. Like a flinch, or maybe something else. In a flash he understood that the promises of you're safe and it's over and they won't hurt you anymore were lies. The monsters had survived. And they were threatening someone he cared about again.
A tremor of raw hatred ran down his spine.
Tsuna looked at Coyote's hand on his arm. "Don't touch me."
The sparks of orange Flames inside flared.
Coyote let go as if stung.
Tsuna focused back on the mansion. He stepped forward. The sole of his foot had barely brushed the lawn that a huge explosion tore through the night.
"Watch out!"
The left wing collapsed. Bricks and glass and cement all came down with a sound like thunder. Smoke billowed in every direction. It rolled out like a giant wave, thick and dark, and devoured everything in its path.
Something broke inside Tsuna.
He blinked and suddenly he was no longer in that parking lot watching a death trap snapping shut around Reborn.
A landscape of pure ice stretched out as far as the eye could see. The cracks that ran through its surface were deeper than they'd ever been before, long and jagged. The orange glow shifting and swirling underneath seemed closer. Impatient. Hungry.
Silence echoed all around, disturbed only by the sound of Tsuna's harsh breathing.
Reborn – Reborn was out there. Somewhere in that place which had once taken the Sun out of his life.
Never. Again.
Tsuna fell to his knees. A scream of rage ripped out of him. He punched Timoteo's ice with all his strength.
It shattered.
.
.
Here we are, finally.