noun: honor, integrity

Tsuna gaps, shell-shocked, and has to crane his neck up and up to look at the giant that's supposedly Fuuta.

Fuuta runs to him for a hug, holds him as tight as Tsuna's injury allows, and Tsuna is swallowed whole in his arms. "Tsuna-nii! It's so good to see you!"

Tsuna laughs, dumbfounded and happy. "It's good to see you too, Fuuta." He can only hug back around Fuuta's chest, because he barely reaches his collarbones. "What type of diet do you have?" He playfully tightens his hold in a fake intimidation gesture. "Tell me your secret right now."

Fuuta laughs, hugging him tighter in earnest, and holds him one beat longer. He pulls away, putting his hands on his shoulders. "Mama has only always taken good care of all of us." He grins, but his hands shake, and his eyes shine. He rubs them dry, then smiles his boyish, mischievous smile Tsuna knows all too well. "Hehe, cool! I'm taller than Tsuna-nii now!"

"Yeah, I can see that," Tsuna says good-naturedly, still amazed by his growth.

"No hug to spare for me?" Bianchi walks up to them, and they turn to face her. She left a collapsed Gokudera in her wake, and Tsuna winces at his sight.

"I didn't see you spare one for me," he shots back, and pointedly looks down at Reborn in her arms.

She pinches his cheek. "Were you always this tiny?"

"Ouch," Tsuna says, just for show, then rubs his cheek.

"Are you saying he actually grows taller?" Reborn asks. "What a relief. Isn't that good, Tsuna?"

"Yeah, very funny. That's just because Giant Fuuta here's standing next to me, isn't it?"

"Jealousy is an ugly color on everyone," Bianchi says as Fuuta chuckles. Tsuna scoffs despite himself, when he only meant to huff just a little bit pointedly. "What was that?"

Bianchi reaches for him again, and Tsuna braces himself for her mean thumb and index finger, because do they know how to pinch. Instead she softly puts her hand on top of his head, and even ruffles his hair. She blushes, and Tsuna's warm on the face too.

He clears his throat, looking away. "It's good to see you too, Bianchi."

Bianchi only ruffles his hair again without a word.

They bid their goodbyes to Gokudera and go to the meeting room together, Tsuna more hurt than he was thanks to Hibari, who thankfully sends Kusakabe in his stead.

[Tsuna grits his teeth, the pain the same amount as any other time Hibari bit him to death, the look in Hibari's eyes a trick of his imagination.]

Fuuta and Bianchi brought back with them precious intel about Millefiore firepower, about their hideout in Namimori, underground same as them. They could plan an attack now depending on how fast they'd heal, how strong they could become in a short time period.

Tsuna leaves the meeting room with the sounds of Fuuta's, Lambo's and I-Pin's laughter in his back, alongside Kyoko's and Haru's tears, and Bianchi's reassurances. He walks aimlessly in the hallways, a knot in his stomach, ever the same one, ever tighter the more time they spend in the future.

An attack on Millefiore? Gamma alone could have killed both Yamamoto and Gokudera if their injuries were anything to go by, and Tsuna saw them. How strong could they become, and will it be enough? Aren't they just setting themselves up to get more hurt, or worse—

Tsuna stops, his breath caught in his throat. He leans against the wall, and makes himself exhale. His hands shake, even when he curls his fingers into a fist, even when he digs his nails into his palms.

How much longer is he going to shake? He's not the only one worried, the only one terrified. He needs to put himself together like they're all doing, needs to get it together and get everyone back in the past as soon as possible.

Dame-Tsuna won't cut it, and he can't let that happen. He needs to become stronger, needs to be—

[—Vongola Decimo?]

"Tsuna-nii." Fuuta gently holds his hands in both of his, and coaxes his fingers open. Red half moon imprints line up on his skin, and Fuuta runs his thumbs over them. "Please don't hurt yourself."

"Fuuta..." When did he get there? Tsuna can't let him see him like that, can't let any of them see him like that. He tries for a smile. "You look good," he says instead, and Fuuta, ever the smart one, catches the meaning of his words.

Nine-teen years old Fuuta, and everything about his nine years old little brother still jumps at him effortlessly. The toothy, boyish, mischievous smile, the sharp but always kind eyes, the single strand of hair curling above his left ear, because Fuuta always plays with it whenever he's bored, or embarrassed, or pouting, or when he's acting cute to get something out of you.

Tsuna could cry about it—will cry about it, but no one needs to know, let alone witness it.

"You look awful," Fuuta says softly.

"That's Hibari-san for you," Tsuna jokes, but it falls flat.

"That's not what I meant."

"Right, you meant my shoulder?" He makes to move it, but Fuuta softly puts his hand on it and stops him.

"Tsuna-nii. That's not what I meant."

Fuuta sounds so gentle, and it only makes it worse. Tsuna can't look into his sad eyes. "Is that so? I guess I am. I'm doing a poor job holding it in."

"Oh, Tsuna-nii. No one else but you expects you to hold it in."

Anger sparks inside him, and it's better than dread, better than tears, better than worry. Tsuna has to fight the urge to hold onto it.

[Everyone expects him to hold it in. If he falls apart, wouldn't they all follow?]

Fuuta wraps his arm around his shoulders, and slowly makes them sit side by side against the wall, on Tsuna's good side. He slides his arm down from his shoulders to his back, pulling him into his side, and holds his hand on his lap.

"You've got it all wrong, Tsuna-nii. It's only because my job is to gather intel, away from the front-lines. That's why I didn't have to let my worse out like they did. But if it weren't for Byakuran and his war, you could see for yourself how good we're all doing." He squeezes his hand, slightly pulls at it, and Tsuna looks up at him. Fuuta smiles. "We're all doing good, you made sure we would. All of us, Lambo, I-Pin and me, Haya-nii, Takeshi-nii and the others, Bianchi-nee, Kyoko-nee and Haru-nee too. I swear."

"That can't be true," Tsuna hears himself say, and he wants nothing more than for Fuuta to tell him otherwise, but his smile only turns sad.

"It is. But it's also true the mafia leaves no one unscathed. But it's not on you if you can't protect us from the very way the world is built."

Tsuna looks away again, hopes Fuuta didn't see the bitter disbelief pursing his lips. Unscathed doesn't even begin to cut it, and Tsuna has been with them only for a little while.

How much worse it is?

Fuuta laughs, and Tsuna doesn't even care about why, doesn't care about anything but basking in the sound of his genuine laughter. [Lambo had smiled a real smile, and so had Kyoko, but it's the first real laugh he hears from someone from the future.] "You can't, but you try, you know?" Fuuta grins, beaming, his eyes sparkling with the same admiration of his nine years old self, and Tsuna is so relieved it's still there. "Every day you wake up and take on the world for us, and that's the only truth that matters to us."

That can't be true, Tsuna almost says again, but it would be a lie. It might not be true, but he wants to believe in it anyway, wants to hold onto that truth, a lie as it might be.

[And if it's a lie, maybe it's not too late for him to make it a truth.]

Fuuta snuggles against him, never letting go of his hand, and rests his head on top of his. He chuckles.

Tsuna huffs out a laugh, weak but genuine, and it feels rusted. "Cheerful much? Read the room a little, will you?"

Fuuta laughs. "No, that's not it, Tsuna-nii! I just—I always thought... I always thought it'd be nice if I could one day give you back the comfort and safety you gave me all those years ago, if only the littlest amount of it. This is the worst possible situation it could have happened, but..." Fuuta holds him tighter, nuzzling into his hair, and it's usually the other way around, but Tsuna's home again. "I'm here for you, Tsuna-nii."

Tsuna pulls his hand away from his to wrap his arm around his waist, curls his fingers around his shirt. He sinks into his side, burying his head into his chest, and holds onto him like a lifeline.

Fuuta might disappear any moment now in dreadful pink smoke, and Tsuna will have no choice but to bear it, to find the strength to smile and tell him everything will be okay. He might, but he might not.

Fuuta's smart—what was it that Dino said that one time? He's hard to come by no matter how hard you're trying to find him, he's used to watching his back.

How many of them have been sent in the future by now? Fuuta's smart, he'll be on the lookout, whoever's sending them there won't get him too.

They won't, they couldn't, not him too.

Oh God, please, not him too.

A/N: I used to think it was so cold of TYL!Tsuna to apparently have deemed Fuuta not enough of a motivation for his present self to bring him in the future too? But upon rereading the arc it appears Fuuta just wasn't around for Irie to send him in the future lol.

Though for the purpose of this fic he's there, living with Tsuna like Lambo and I-Pin, so I had to throw in a reason for why he still won't appear in the future.

Next chapter it's Hibari and the Vongola Trial, and I can't wait to give it to you guys! It will be an especially rough one for Tsuna to go through, so be prepared. :3

I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Any and all review are appreciated.

Thank you for reading!

- Hope