Yeah so this started getting longer than I wanted and so it's gained another chapter. Posting this so I can at least say I updated and focus on GC so I can MAYBE get that updated before the end of the month and then flee the country before the hoards of hopeful Out of This World fans start pressing me for the update I guestimated for August
When Aziraphale hears the bell at his door ring, he huffs and steps out the back room, fully expecting to see the group of Japanese teens that have been hovering in his store for the past few days. He starting to wonder if he should push to make them leave, but to be honest, compared to the last few insistent attempts to buy a book, the young Tsunayoshi has been, well, harmless. There hasn't been a single threat, or warning that involves matches or flames. While the teens are clearly involved in something less than legal, they don't seem ready to to use it to get their way.
However, it's not the group, but only the silver haired teen, scowling behind an unlit cigarette, and grits his teeth.
This one, on the other hand, could become a problem.
"Oi, I need to talk to you," he says in perfect English, stalking up the angel.
"Where's the rest of your group?" Aziraphale asks, choosing to ignore the ire. If he remembers the conversations correctly, his name his 'Gokudera...'
"Not here," Gokudera snaps. "They wouldn't understand what's necessary. I'm the only one who gets how this goes."
He all but shoves his way past and heads for the back room. Aziraphale mentally counts to ten before following him inside. Gokudera has dragged a seat to the table, leaning forward while he waits for Aziraphale to join him. Which he does, reluctantly, and Gokudera reaches for his cigarette, only to remember that it's not lit and backtrack with another scowl.
"The Tenth needs to succeed here," Gokudera insists. "And as his right hand, I can build the framework for the agreement. Tell me the conditions, and we can both get back to our normal lives."
"Oh, you're not going to demand the titles you desired?" Aziraphale asks, genuinely thrown. Gokudera shakes his head.
"I mistepped that day. I neglected to put the Tenths needs ahead of mine. While I still want those books-"
He takes a moment to glare at the book keeper.
"-That's a war I can fight another day. For now, I need to focus. Too many people come here looking for books, there has to be something you keep back with expectations of parting. I want to know what we need to do in order to get it."
"And if I don't cooperate?" Aziraphale asks, and Gokudera bites his cigarette so hard it's nearly snapped in two. It's clear he's trying to hold back something, so Aziraphale decides to give him a nudge, discreetly snapping his fingers under the table. "Be honest with me."
"I want to break in a night, steal every book I want then blow the place to high heavens asshole," Gokudera snaps, before paling and slapping two hands over his mouth. Aziraphale raises his eyebrows.
"Really? That seems rather out of sorts with the rest of your group, don't you think?"
Gokudera's eyes narrow, and slowly drops his hands to reply-
"I wouldn't. I want to but I wouldn't, because it would make the Tenth upset and I try really, really hard to be the kind of person that doesn't make him upset any more and WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST DO TO ME!"
Gokudera slams his hands on the table and glares down at the angel, looking panicked and about ready to blow him up, so Aziraphale quickly cancels out his little truth-telling miracle, leaning back with a smile.
"I value honesty," he says. "I just wanted to know your plans. You value your friendship with your 'Tenth' quite a bit."
Gokudera flinches...then relaxes when he realises his mouth isn't immediately going off, and sits back down.
"He's the best thing that ever happened to me," Gokudera explains, hands clenched. "My own personal salvation, even if he doesn't believe it. He's why I'm here, and why I'll do whatever it takes to win you over his way."
Aziraphale cocks his head, and smiles.
Oh dear. He's starting to like this short tempered child, he's everything an angel wants to see. A human that's sinned and tempted, only for another human to show them the light and bring them onto the proper path. A sinner turned good – or at the very least attempting to smooth out the edges.
"The book I sell you will be kept in immaculate condition?"
Gokudera grins back. Finally, they're getting somewhere.
"I can guarantee it. No one will ever be able to so much as touch it."
"Then how will anyone read it?"
Gokudera, halfway ready to answer, freezes, processing the question, and Mr. Fell gives a smug smile.
Because while he's impressed at the teens attempt, one is not supposed to be rewarded for good behaviour.
"A book must not just be protected. While they are precious treasures, they are also vital tools. A book kept for collective purposes is a book kept for the wrong reasons."
"...Are you FUCKING KIDDING ME?"
Back at the park, Tsuna can't help but let out the tiny 'Hieee' as Crowley leans in.
"W-what, how did you follow me?" he squeaks. Crowley grins in reply.
"Oh it wasn't that hard," he explains. "Seen you pop in and out of the store enough times to have an idea of where you'd be staying. When I spotted you on your own, figured I couldn't resist having some one on one time.
Got to admit though, surprised to see you solo," he continues. "That little group of yours seems pretty tight. Silvie's quite the attack dog. How'd you get him to let you out?"
Tsuna blushes and looks away. "I-uh, might have told each of them I was going out with the other."
Crowley bursts into laughter.
"Nice, well done. Quite the little troublemaker in training aren't you."
"N-No!" Tsuna insists. "I'm not, I mean, It's not like I want to! I just...I just needed a little time to myself!"
"Now, now, don't get upset," Crowley chides. "No judgments here. But if you don't want to lie, why don't you tell me everything? Quite tempted too find out your full story."
The man leans in, and Tsuna flinches, his intuition spiking, even as he thinks he hears a finger snap near his ear.
"Come on, you know you want to tell me."
The words are almost on the tip of his tongue. He's so exhausted at keeping secrets and having people not believe him even when insanity is every, spilling out everything to a near stranger sounds so overwhelmingly tempting…
"...You're doing something to me," Tsuna says, snapping up straight and staring over at Crowley, eyes tinted orange. The man's eyebrows raise in surprise.
"That's a neat trick," he replies. "Most people don't notice."
Most people don't have a hyperactive six sense that's been honed around a hitman with a sadistic streak, Tsuna thinks, but merely places a hand on Crowley's chest and pushes him back.
"Well I do, stop it."
Crowley is far too old to be pouting, but that's definitely what he appears to be doing.
"You're really no fun," he says, dropping his head down to move Tsuna's hand away – only to freeze when he spots the Vongola ring on Tsuna's middle finger.
"Now where did you get that?"
Tsuna frowns, glancing at the ring, wondering what exactly grabbed the attention of a non-mafioso. Before he can ask, Crowley has already grabbed his hand, lifting it up and staring at the ring from behind his shades.
"How on Earth did you wind up there?" he mutters, and Tsuna yanks his hand away.
"Hiee..."
While he can't see his eyes, Tsuna's certain they're focused on him.
"Y-you recognise this ring?" he splutters, because while he'd suspected the man to be involved in the underground, recognising this specific ring in London isn't something he'd expected to run into. Tsuna has a sinking feeling he's going to need to call Reborn about it.
Crowley, for his part, looks far too eager to grab his hand again, but refrains and leans back on the bench.
"No, just didn't expect to see such a fancy rock," he claims. "Quite rare those are. Love to hear that story..."
Tsuna however, clams up and starts eyeing the exit across the lake. Crowley follows his movements, and huffs.
"Oh fine, down to business then," he mutters. "What's it going to take to get you to leave the Angel alone? It's always fun the first couple of weeks, but then it just gets boring and repetitive and I'd like to avoid that if possible. He gets so blessed fussy about these things."
Tsuna frowns, and glances over at the man.
Well, nowhere did it say he had to negotiate with Mr. Fell…
"We don't really want to bother him either," Tsuna insists. "But our request is pretty simple. We need to buy a book. If you want us to leave, tell us how to do it."
"Well, if you want a story, I can certainly trade it for a story," Crowley says, grinning once again. Tsuna internally winces as his intuition and a strange need to talk battle in his head.
"Everything I know is telling me that's a bad idea," Tsuna says.
Crowley shrugged. "Nothing's free brat.
Tsuna frowns, going over the odds, before a rather awful thought comes to his head.
"It wouldn't work for us," he realises. "That's why you're offering. Whatever Reborn did, it was so...Reborn, that we couldn't copy him."
The man beside him pouts, and tosses his head back.
"Aww, you figured that out too quick," he moans. "I thought I'd at least be able to tempt something out of you."
Tsuna frowns.
"Then tell me anyway," he asks. "Now that I know it's worthless, you've got no reason to keep it secret."
The man's eyebrows raise, only for his smirk to become sly.
"Oh? Think you might be able to copy it regardless?"
"You want us to leave," Tsuna replies. "This is how we leave. By knowing how to win. Tell us what he did."
The man grins.
"Are you sure you want to know?" he purrs. "You really think you'll be able to replicate it."
"Reborn never gives me something impossible," Tsuna insists. "Even if it doesn't always feel like it. Please, tell me, how did he do it?"
The grin beneath sunglasses is almost snakelike in it's glee.
"Oh why not," he laughs. "Might as well crush that last little bit of hope you have."
Tsuna leans forward.
"I believe it was some time in the 80's" Crowley begins. "From what I remember, he wrote and self published a highly coveted book regarding the history of insects that's still used in Entomology today, and when Angel grabbed one for his collection, he offered up an autographed hand written final draft with unseen additions in exchange for the brand new copy. Angel's never been able to resist a one of a kind, autographed original."
Tsuna's face falls.
"He...published a book?"
"A very popular and sought after one."
"And traded the unabridged final draft for a book Mr. Fell probably only had for a day and could replace easily?"
"More like a week, but got it in one."
Tsuna thinks he might start crying. Instead, he drops his head into his hands and moans. He hates his tutor. Him and the ridiculous number of alias and degrees he has.
"Sorry kid, them's the breaks," Crowley continues. "Fact is, Angel never gives up his books. To him, that collection is perfect, and he won't change that for all the honeyed words you and your friends can offer."
He's expecting it to be a death blow, something to sink the teen into true despair and more open to sharing things he knows he shouldn't (starting with those rings – last he checked, those rocks should not be in the hands of humans). Crowley has pried plenty of trainee criminals and Mafioso into breaking their precious secrecy laws with far less – really, why do so many criminals still cling to religion when they're so bad at following it? Not that he has any room to talk, but-
He's not expecting Tsuna to freeze, head lifting from his hands in shock.
'Oh my God,' he says.
"Oi, no need to bring her into this," Crowley mutters. Tsuna doesn't appear to hear him.
'Mr. Fell will never give up any of his books," the teen continues. "They mean too much to him. Everything in his collection has value. That's the solution. How did I miss that?'
To Crowley's apprehension, a wide grin has started to take over Tsuna's face, and he starts to have the sinking feeling he's just done something good...
"What?" he says. "What did I say?"
Tsuna however, just bursts into laughter, and Crowley rears back as if the sound is contagious. Before he can question it, Tsuna has jumped to his feet, and is running towards the exit.
"Thanks Mr. Crowley!" he hollers back. "You're a really nice guy!"
Crowley splutters and lunges to his feet, but Tsuna is already out of the park before he can hear the reply.
"Wha-I AM NOT!"
"Here's an idea," Gokudera snaps, slamming the door of the hotel room shut. "Let's kill him and forge a will saying he's leaving the shop to us."
"Wouldn't work to the Extreme," Ryohei offers from where he sits cross legged on his bed, not looking up from his phone. "Squalo sent an email of all known attempts, and that's been tried twice. Mr. Fell is Extremely hard to kill."
"Well trying would make me feel better!" he snaps back.
That had, quite possibly - been the worst 30 minutes of his life. He'd spent ages trying to get Mr. Fell to offer up a weak spot, only for the man to effortlessly push deflect his efforts to the point where he had to leave or blow something up. It's humiliating - thank God the Tenth wasn't there to see it.
He then turns to Yamamoto, who had been staring out the window when he came in, but is looking him over with a frown.
"Where's the Tenth?" Gokudera asks. "We need to go over our next strategy."
Yamamoto's frown just deepens.
"Isn't Tsuna with you?" he asks. "He said he was joining you in the lobby."
Gokudera goes white. "No. He said you were meeting him in the lobby...are you telling me the Tenth is out there without any protections?"
His voice is frightfully high pitched by the end, and Yamamoto eyes the door, with concern.
"Should we go look for him?" he asks.
"Sawada is Extremely fine," Ryohei insists, tapping away on his phone. "He's the best protection he can have, to the Extreme."
"That's not the point and you know it Turf Top!" Gokudera snaps. "He's the heir to the Vongola! He should never be out without backup!"
Yamamoto winces. While both of them have a point, the idea that Tsuna is out there without someone at his back is very unsettling. God only knows that if they let the teen out of their sight for too long, he'll inevitably discover some kind of centuries long feud or villain that the Vongola inevitably have to clean up in some way or another.
However, Yamamoto's starting to realise that if Tsuna isn't with Gokudera...
"Wait, if he wasn't with you...Oh man, I thought Tsuna told you not to go there on your own?" Yamamoto asks, starting to smile, and Gokudera flushes red.
"I didn-he never actually ordered it," he splutters. "And I just needed a better read on the guy!"
Yamamoto's grin doesn't falter.
"And?"
Gokudera just growls, and turns his attention to Ryohei, who is still focused on his phone.
"Who are you even texting right now?" Gokudera snaps.
"Lussuria," Ryohei offers, and Gokudera almost feels a glimmer of hope.
"And?"
"He wants me to find out where Crowley buys his sunglasses," Ryohei says, texting back. "I've told him I'll ask nicely next time, to the Extreme."
Gokudera starts strangling the air.
"Did he text anything useful?"
Now Ryohei looks up.
"There's an underground fighting ring three streets down he thinks I'll enjoy to the Extreme?"
Gokudera goes an alarming shade of red, mouth opening to unleash hell-
-Only for a pillow to be whacked in his face by Yamamoto, who holds it close to keep the unholy screaming down to minimal levels.
When the pillow is removed, Gokudera still looks frustrated, but a whole lot calmer.
"Good call, Baseball Idiot," he mutters, refusing to look either of them in the eye. Yamamoto laughs, tossing the pillow back on the bed, only to freeze as all three of them hear a key card opening the lock.
When Tsuna walks into the room, his eyes register all three of them, and he winces.
"Hiee...I was hoping at least one of you wouldn't be back yet," he moans, only to be beset upon by an upset right hand.
"Tenth!" Gokudera wails. "What were you thinking? This is a foreign nation! We have no allies here, you can't just walk the streets in broad daylight!"
"You could have just told us where you were going Tsuna," Yamamoto offers. "It's not good to trick us like that,"
He gives a smile that could melt butter.
"Won't fall for it next time."
Tsuna internally sighs. Yamamoto is probably going to be extra clingy the next few weeks just to prove a point. Gokudera's going to be equally proud and agitated at his fellow Guardian for it no doubt.
Gokudera is eventually coaxed to release Tsuna's shoulders from his desperate grip, but before he can tell them his revelation, his right hand is already straight into planning mode.
"Mr. Fell is beyond frustrating," he insists, chewing on an unlit cigarette. "I think he actually enjoys toying with people, but he likes honesty. He's good at getting people to admit things."
"That seems to be a common thing with him and Mr. Crowley," Tsuna admits.
"Well, that shop's been open for centuries, right?" Yamamoto says. "Someone has to have bought a book at some point. We might just have to look further back to figure it out."
"Actually," Tsuna tries. "I-"
"Maybe we can ask locals to the Extreme," Ryohei interrupts. "I read online that a someone has a book that their great grandfather bought from Mr. Fell in 1920. We should ask Mr. Fell what he did."
"There's not much to be found there," Gokudera says. "I've been scouring the internet boards and just about everything is hearsay or just shy of urban myth. Very few people have any legitimate advice."
Tsuna smiles.
"Don't worry about it," he says. "Actually, I was speaking to Mr. Crowley and-"
He stops, thinks about what Ryohei said, and glances over in confusion.
"Brother, it wouldn't have been Mr. Fell in 1920," he says. "It would have been his relative, and I doubt he would have told stories of failures to keep books."
Ryohei frowns.
"I'm not wrong. It was extremely him in 1920."
"How can you possibly think that?" Gokudera says with frustration. "Even you know time works Turf Top. There's no way that ass hole was anything more than a baby back then, if alive at all. Why would you even think that?"
Ryohei stands a little straighter at the challenge, and hastily presses a few buttons on his phone before facing the screen towards them.
"Because on the wall of photographs in the shop, he is in every single one, to the Extreme."
The photo on screen isn't stellar, given the small frame, but they can definitely make out the man sitting at a table in some kind of restaurant. Tsuna leans in with shock.
"Put it on the computer," he says. When Ryohei complies and they get a bigger image, Gokudera's eyes narrow, then skips to the next photo.
And the next, and the next.
Some are in colour, but most are sepia or black and white, all clearly old – not the fake gimmicky dated that's popular for tourists, but genuine archive images. All featuring the same man. By photograph number eight, he leans back in shock.
"It can't be him."
"It's him, to the Extreme!" Ryohei insists. "He's even wearing the same jacket in most of them!"
"So the family's frugal!" Gokudera snaps.
"But, look at this-" Yamamoto offers, swiping between the third and fifth photo, which both feature Mr. Fell with another gentleman. "That's the same guy, I swear, but he's at least 20 years older between photos."
"Maybe he just has strong genetics," Gokudera snaps, and Yamamoto laughs, one hand playing with the Vongola ring around his neck.
"Yeah, we can hardly argue against that."
"No," Tsuna says, eyes focused on the screen. "It's him."
They all frown.
"How can you be sure?" Yamamoto questions, and Tsuna merely skips back a few images to one of the oldest photos, and points to the corner.
It's been taken in a park, with Mr. Fell standing near a lake, in the park Tsuna had just come from, outfit practically identical to the one he's been wearing the last few days. But he's not what Tsuna is focused on.
In the back of the photo, leaning on a bench almost out of sight, is a man dressed in the era's style, only completely black.
It's hard to make out details in such an old photo, but Tsuna is certain he's also wearing very dark eyeglasses. And sprawled out the same way Tsuna had seen him do less than an hour ago.
"Because that's Anthony J Crowley," he says.
"...Holy shit," Gokudera says, eyes wide.
"Oh wow..."
"I told you, to the Extreme!" Ryohei insists. "Mr. Fell is Extremely old."
"Old?" Gokudera laughs. "Let's try immortal."
"He can't be immortal!" Tsuna insists. "That would be cr-"
The teen stops himself just in time.
Who is he kidding? On a list of craziest things to ever happen to him, an immortal bookshop owner and his partner wouldn't even make the top ten at this point.
In fact...
Tsuna stills, Crowley's reaction to the Vongola ring suddenly hitting him like a bullet.
"Hieee...I think...I think they might be like Kawahira."
That gets his guardians attention. Both Yamamoto and Gokudera straighten, eyes instantly going for the door and windows, as if the two men are suddenly going to smash through. Ryohei immediately puts his phone away and moves to Tsuna's side, form tense.
"Why do you Extremely say that?" the boxer asks, and Tsuna looks down at his ring.
"I ran into Mr. Crowley outside," he explains, which doesn't calm down his friends at all. "When he saw the Vongola ring, he-I don't know, he didn't recognise the symbol, but he knew the stone."
"...We're going to need to leave London, aren't we?" Yamamoto asks, looking stressed. Tsuna can't really blame him, but he offers his Rain a smile.
"I don't think it's that bad," he insists. "While he recognised it, he wasn't willing to actually do anything about it. I don't think he really cares outside of maybe learning how it's now a ring."
"Wait, he didn't know?" Gokudera asks, and Tsuna shook his head.
"Kawahira did say he was supposed to be one of the last," he offers. "But maybe there were others who survived. Who didn't know what Kawahira did."
Gokudera takes the theory with his usual stride, and Tsuna's relieved to find all the teens finally backing down from their tense states.
"Maybe that's right," Gokudera says. "But if its true, this got a lot more dangerous."
Tsuna grins.
"Actually, it doesn't matter," Tsuna says. "Because I think I finally figured out how to buy a book from Mr. Fell. Listen to this..."
