Word Count: 4,344


"Antarctica's a desert, you know?" Daiki hummed, a bruise on his cheek from their latest roughhouse, throwing a rounded pebble in his palm.

Xanxus looked up from the mindless drawing he had been conducting in the dirt, his discarded branch held tightly in his small hand, three grazes marring the side of his face from where he had been mashed into the brickwork of the walls.

"What? No, it's not! It's made of water!" He huffed, pointing the crooked stick at the little Sun.

The older child shrugged and continued to toss his pebble high into the air, following it with his eyes as it descended at an alarming pace, slipping past his face and patting down into his palm.

"But you can't drink any of it, because it's mostly frozen. If you were stranded in the middle of the frozen desert, you wouldn't have anything to drink."

The Wrathful child stared at his friend as golden eyes melted with some kind of remembrance, something that was far beyond what he could reach. His hands twitched by his side as he bit down on the urge to rip Daiki from whatever celestial plane he had graced upon and drag him back to stand with Xanxus in their dusty alleyway.

"So, if either by hypothermia or dehydration," Amber encrusted gold slid from the corner to focus back on the vermillion viciousness. "You'd die."

Xanxus blinked, and it was like they had snapped out of the heavy air, Daiki's lips pulling into a passive smile.

"Of course, there are other ways to die. Such as starvation, suicide and being killed by animals - or by your crew-mates."

"Tch, my crew-mates wouldn't be so stupid as to try and fuck with me. I'd be the only one to survive!"

Daiki gazed at him for a moment. Xanxus wondered if he had said something wrong, but swallowed the slow rise of embarrassment before it could well into realisation. He jolted to attention as Daiki pushed off of the crate he was sitting on and chucked aside his pebble, prompting him to do the same.

"Let's go home, before the sun gets too hot." He uttered and began walking without bothering to check if Xanxus followed.

The Sky tossed his stick away and chased after him with a sneer of confusion and aggravation, quickly catching up and moving to walk backwards so he could be face to face with Daiki.

"Hey, I mean it! I'd be the only one to survive in the whole damn team! I'd be better than everyone else!"

Daiki continued to walk, almost looking through the little Sky, before they stopped, less than a metre from the exit of their alley.

"Don't go to Antarctica, Xanxus."

Xanxus paused the harsh snap he was about to deliver, silenced by the flat frown that took the boy's copper complexion and the first utterance of his name in the fortnight. He grit his teeth and crossed his arms in defiance, before looking off in a huff, lower lip jutting out.

"Fine, I won't go to fucking Antarctica." He grumbled, before snorting loudly. "It'd probably be boring as hell anyway, just a bunch of ice and idiots."

The little Wrath watched the Sun out of the corner of faux-closed eyes. Daiki's expression hadn't changed, eyes far like he was before, but this time, he was looking directly at him.

Xanxus was thrilled.


The moment his foot touched the marble floors of the Varia Headquarters, Daiki felt something old surge through him. Something rich and antique to his blood. He dragged his eyes over the entry, and let out a long breath of the Italian air, recognising the taste that had been lost from his tongue for a long year.

The place had hardly changed, and he had seen many a familiar face as he had made his way up the cobblestone paths in the gardens. It made the Sun brim with a sensation he'd rather not inspect too closely, and he couldn't help the tilt of his lips as the excitable shout spilt from the top of the stairwell.

"Oh, my beautiful baby brother!" Lussuria squealed, descending in a flourished, fluffy pink bathrobe, whose long train slithered down after him. "Come give Sister Luss a kiss!"

Daiki gave a laugh as the tropical scent invaded his space, strong arms wrapping around his shoulders and trapping him to the Varia Sun, who dotted glossy affection across his cheekbones.

"It's been too long my darling! How have you been? You look so good!"

"I'm fine, Sis." The Yakuza signed, allowing the elder to loop their arms together and guide him further into the heart of the building. "But, main situation: how is everyone else?"

The Sun thinned his lips for a moment, before giving a slow breath escaped him. He smiled a bit as Daiki touched his hand in a comforting manner, then led him through a familiar hall, the vase that had once been smashed replaced impeccably, like the Varia had several replicas of the antique in storage.

"Everyone has been a bit...withdrawn since Boss was imprisoned." Lussuria began, choosing his words carefully. "Though, it has gotten better over time, they've all still got a grudge dwelling inside them. If you think tensions with the Vongola was bad before, oft, you should see it now. "

"Not a pretty sight I suppose then, huh?"

"Not a pretty sight at all, my darling."

Daiki gave a small noise of understanding, having expected as much, before taking his arm back as the Varia pushed a set of double doors open with dramatic flourish, hips knocking to the side as he left his arms elevated in an extravagant pose.

"Guess who's back!"

If he were being truthful, the rogue Sun would have admitted that he expected a less than warm reception. To them, he had abandoned the Varia both as soon as Xanxus had ripped of any possible inheritance, and the downfall of the Varia. He looked like an opportunist who saw the bank run dry, and he wasn't going to delude himself into believing that they would try to look at it another way.

"Ottone!"

"Daiki! 'Bout time you got off that damn island!"

If he were being truthful, Daiki would also admit that he should have stopped trying to predict this cacophony of a Family a long time ago.

The Yakuza grunted as he was shoved into the arms of the massive Lightning, the moustached man sobbing at the happy return of their Boss' obsession and a possible anchor in the unsteady foundations of the Varia Headquarters.

"Welcome back, Daiki!" He sniffled, wiping away tears.

Daiki tried not to let the mixture of humour and disturbance show through his expression, and instead morphed it into one of soft affection, rubbing the giant's back in a comforting manner.

"It's good to be back, Leviathan. How have you been holding up?"

"Like a castle of cards in a cyclone," Squalo grunted, getting up off the couch and stomping over grumpily. "He's such a fucking crybaby."

"He's sensitive, friend." Daiki hushed, parting from the Lightning to bend and collect the young Belphegor to his chest, feeling wires brush his arms in a kind of recognition.

"You look surprised, Ottone~!" The Stormy prince grinned, staring up at the Sun through his impeccably sliced fringe.

The familiar name plucked at the chords of his lifeblood organ, and he found his arms to be conducted to tighten around the boy, a split second smile flitting across warm lips.

"I wasn't expecting such a gentle welcome."

Mammon floated over with a huff, coming down to settle upon the Storm's head and frown at the copper man in a seemingly indignant manner.

"What? You expected us to believe you some gold digger who split the second you found out Boss wasn't an heir?" They scoffed, Fantasma shifting on their hood in a lazy, beady-eyed greeting. "We know you tried to stay here, all the telephone lines are tapped and recorded so we have evidence of your conversation with your mother. Don't think us so daft, idiot."

Daiki gazed at them for a moment, still on his knees for the Storm, before he gathered himself and sighed, rocking back onto his heels.

"Of course, why on Earth did I think otherwise."

"Because you're a dumbass, that's why." Squalo snapped, before tugging him to his feet and crushing the Sun in a brief but all-consuming hug. "Welcome back, pretty bastard."

With another smile the Varia dispersed back through the firelit living room, sprawling themselves over European couches and velvet cushions, alcohol and tea on three-legged tables made of metal and mahogany. A heavy scent lingered in the air as the copper being followed slowly, golden eyes trailing around the warm place, before halting on two isolated islands of wealth.

"You kept it." He uttered, getting a giggle from Lussuria.

"Of course we did, it's your couch after all."

Daiki bit his lip, back turned to the Mafia clan as he gazed at the long couch. Velvet vermillion, engraved gold and near pitch woodwork sat in a luxury seating, exactly as it had more than a year ago, not a thread out of place. He remembered the satisfaction that had bloomed in the Sky's expression when he had first laid himself on the expanse, fingers skimming the fabric in quiet memory.

The Yakuza lowered himself onto the couch as casually as he could, one leg stretched across the expanse while the other bent comfortably. His nape pressed against the arm, pillows adding a soft buffer as he closed his eyes with a silent exhale.

The throne of the Wrathful Sky was flush with the couch before the fire, flashes of orange and yellow splashing the expensive materials. It's emptiness haunted the quiet Sun, and he felt his skin ripple in goosebumps as ghosts ran their fingers through his hair, smoke and alcohol the lingering perfumes which clung to their illusion.

Daiki hadn't felt that touch in so long, it startled him to receive it again. He had been plagued by the phantoms of furious days and tender nights for the early months of Japan, but they had soon been chased away by the pure fatigue of the place. He had lost his resilience, his hand coming up to try and touch the lost warmth of the fingers in his cobalt.

"So, turns out the baker's boy is actually a Yakuza heir!" Squalo sneered playfully, jabbing his sword-hand in the man's direction. "The fuck didn't you tell us for?"

"It didn't seem important." Daiki answered easily, lowering his hand back to his side.

"Incorrect, you are in a position of influence and power within the Japanese community. The possibilities appear profitable, ignoring them would be unadvised." Mammon hummed, nibbling through a biscuit in a manner reminiscent of an enthusiastic hamster.

"Trading intelligence," Leviathan spoke, offering the rogue Sun a plate of snacks. "And it's something to back you up in places like these."

"Thank you," Daiki uttered, taking one to snap between his teeth. "I suppose you're right, but I don't intend on ending up in a situation where I'd have to pull rank here."

"You'd be surprised, Vongola and CEDEF guys are always on our backs now. Even the Varia cronies are getting watched." Squalo scowled, before deflating in annoyance.

Belphegor hummed before hopping to his feet and dancing across the room in a kind of waltz, before plopping down atop the Yakuza, sprawling his young body on the elder's. He giggled weirdly as kicked his legs as a hand settled on his back, showing that he was welcome.

"So," Mammon began, flipping through a file. "Have you greeted the Boss yet?"

Daiki paused his gentle patting of the Storm's back, eyes drifting to the Misty being who turned a page of graphical information nonchalantly. The rest of the Varia Family shifted in their seats, feeling both acceptance and enmity rise at the mention of their loss.

The Yakuza man drummed his fingers along the child's spine, lips pulled into a downward dislike.

"No...No I haven't seen him yet. I didn't realise I could."

Squalo looked into his cup, before turning to Leviathan, who had been silent through the exchange. The Lightning Guardian shifted, eyes flitting from the rogue Sun to the floor, rooms of sex-stench resurfacing in his mind; a being of arrogance and a being of azure laying in the same sheets.

"Do you want to see the Boss?" He asked, slowly, unsurely.

Daiki glanced to Lussuria, before nodding, a smile touching his lips as he let his eyes fall, something far gone hiding behind their golden plating.

...

Lussuria led Daiki through the afternoon-bloody halls, setting sun casting the Flames in soft-tinged vermillion as they walked in a bubbling silence. Muscles were tense beneath their flesh and strides were as strong as they hesitant, low tier Varia bowing out of their ways as they were cast curious glances. They were walking deeper, sinking straight to the core of the Headquarters, and a chill took the air as the last lights of the sky were swallowed up, leaving only gas lamps along the walls that flickered curiously at the new intruders.

"Just through here," the Varia Sun uttered, glancing to his fellow out of the corner of his lense. "Are you sure about this? It's not a pretty thing."

The rogue thinned his lips before wordlessly pushing the heavy door open, leaving the elder to watch after him as he stepped into the bleak place.

Daiki let out a breath, just barely audible but visible in it's frosted form as he stared at the slab of displaced glacier, sprouting from the floor like some sort of frigid flower. Glass petals refracted the light in kaleidoscopic manners that painted the stone walls with rainbotic dazzlings, casting across the copper man's hand as he raised it, as if to hold the weight of light in his palm.

"I told you," Lussuria murmured, stepping up behind his young brother. "It's not very pretty."

The runaway aubade didn't understand what the man was saying. This was beautiful.

"I hate it." He sighed wistfully, gazing at the top of the frozen bud's barbed frond of frost.

Daiki slowly approached the manifestation, steps ringing out in the hollow room of coloured light, feeling copper-tan go up in goosebumps as phantoms of cold air brushed his skin and made him shiver once. He raised his hand, arm struggling with its own organic weight, before he laid his palm on the stinging ice, looking beyond it and taking in the ice-bound boy who reached back, fingers posed in a fierce clawing.

For a moment, he felt a weight on his chest. A tightening of his lungs which wrangled him despite how he knew there was no coiling snake in his cage of ribs. The serpent within him hissed until his heart rattled like it's tail, venom stinging his eyes.

He leant forward slowly, eyes fluttering shut as he pressed a warm kiss to the ice, lips flushing at the chill. The spell did not break; Daiki was no prince charming, after all.

Daiki lifted his lips from the cold encasing, hands pressed to the unmelting glacier with a kind of quiet solemnity as he gazed at the Wrathful Sky, held like an enraged rose in resin. He sighed at himself, causing a light fog to take the ice's surface.

"Daiki," Lussuria began softly, coming up to stand beside him. "He was heartbroken when you left."

"Heartbroken?" The rogue Sun repeated, fingers tracing the outline of the Sky's jaw, the cold so foreign when placed with the visage of the man. "He was not heartbroken. Only offended."

"I think you underestimate what you two had, little brother."

The Yakuza man only glanced to his sister out of the corner of his eye, before resting his brow against the Vongola's ice, dedicating himself to watching the frozen Sky. He hummed something lowly as he touched at the ice, caressing a tanned cheek through it as vermillion eyes expressed only rage...and maybe some sadness.

"I do not underestimate it, my sister. But, perhaps I may just not understand it."

Lussuria observed the rogue through his lens, trying to decipher the warped, copper maze of a man that his Sky had dragged in so long ago. He watched as Daiki's eyes glazed over in thought, a hand still tracing the lines of the Wrath's face, fingertips going cold as a droplet slipped off the bridge of his nose.

That ice did not melt.

The Varia Sun thinned his lips, before glancing to the watch on Daiki's wrist, seeing that it was around the time that dinner was being served for their Family. He sighed and looked between what used to be, before gently urging his sweet brother to begin moving.

"Daiki, we should go now."

"I think I'll stay here." Daiki murmured as response.

Lussuria paused, before deflating in defeat, knowing that this was not debatable. It never was when it came to each other.

"Okay," He sighed, combing a hand through his fellow Flame's hair. "I'll get someone to bring you your dinner and something to sit on."

The rogue gave a hum of understanding before the sound of retreating footsteps were silenced by the heavy fall of the door, leaving the Sun alone with the cold of an unforgiving Sky. He bit his lip was his breath fogged the ice, eyes never straying too far.

"I told you I'd leave," he murmured to the cadaverous, "you have no reason to be so upset."

Timoteo paused as he entered after his three sons, their shouts ringing in the room in which their youngest was encased. They came here, not often enough, but sometimes to just see their lost family when they couldn't pretend he didn't exist anymore.

The Vongola Nono made his way to his sons in confusion, wondering what they were yelling at in such hoarse voices of offence and anger, before stalling as a man of copper and cobalt came into view. The familiar being sat in a plush armchair that must have been taken from one of the drawing rooms, a small side table holding a half-eaten plate of food and a cup of wine to accompany. He was reclined in a manner that showed no care for his attackers, head turned away to focus only upon the frozen Sky.

"Daiki," Timoteo greeted warmly, ceasing his sons' anger. "It's good to see you again."

Slowly, golden eyes dragged themselves over to connect with his own coffee orbs, the young Mafias taking a step away as the name rung distant bells, but not in tune. Lips remained a line of apathy towards them as Daiki gazed on, before he took a breath and responded.

"I suppose it would be polite if I were to say the same," he uttered offhandedly, making Federico bristle.

The Boss only let a sad smile touch his face and received the cold response with grace, understanding the iced mannerisms of the being.

"I see the Varia told you of what happened, you're being here could be for no other reason."

Daiki didn't deny or confirm his suspicion, completely unmoving, unreadable in his halcyon. It would have made him uncomfortable if he wasn't who he was.

"How have you been? You disappeared quite suddenly."

"I've been well."

Frederico and Enrico glanced to each other, Massimo fidgeting behind them with a mixture of frustration and restlessness. The heirs weren't pleased by the sudden appearance of the strange youth, disgusted by how he ate by the corpse of their brother and furious by how he reclined before their father.

"Father," Enrico began, calling attention. "Who is this man?"

Timoteo blinked, before letting out a soft laugh and made a sweeping gesture towards to two groups.

"Oh, how rude of me, I completely forgot that you haven't met." He waved his hand at his boys with a warm expression, though there was still an ache hidden beneath that made Daiki's jaw twitch minutely. "These are my sons, Federico, Enrico and Massimo."

The men all bowed their heads in greeting, muttering pleasantries with bitter undertones.

"Boys, this is Daiki; Xanxus' dear friend."

Daiki let his face twitch at the term, watching as the faces of the others mottled in expressions of confusion and disbelief. The Mafia youths looked from their father, to Daiki then to Xanxus in a circuit, as if it would answer their astonishment.

"That can't be true! Xanxus never-"

"Oh don't be daft, Massimo," Timoteo laughed, "don't you remember the first years of Xanxus being brought home? How he kept demanding a boy named Daiki?"

The line of men all dawned upon it at once, heads snapping to the quietly sitting being who had already turned his attention back to the frozen visage of the Varia man. Their minds were cast back, back to the time where Xanxus was small and their ears were bleeding with his tantrums, a smashed vase here and a burnt painting there.

"Fuck you, I want to see him! Now!" Xanxus snapped, pushing over a chair to keep the men in suits at bay.

"Son, please-"

"Give him to me! Bring him here!"

Timoteo sighed as his sons stayed outside the room, not daring to enter the room of the raging Sky, his new arrival having brought an unrest in the Vongola Mansion. They frowned, wondering why the men didn't just go grab the guy Xanxus was after already, just get him to shut up!

"I don't want this," a toy smashed against the wall. "I want him! Give me Daiki!"

"You're that Daiki," Enrico breathed, "The one Xanxus was always after."

Gold plated honey turned on him and he swallowed thickly, wondering just what kind of genetics he had to create such a disposition. Lips quirked into a kind of sardonic smile that made them grit their teeth, not sure if they liked this character.

"Was he?" Daiki hummed, taking a moment to swallow down his glass of wine, lips stained red in the corners.

Frederico decided then that he did not care for the Sun before them, a smokey hostility coiling in his mind as he tried to imagine just why the man was here, all these years later.

"You choose now to come see him? After nearly eight years?" He scoffed, getting a glance from his father.

"One year, actually." Daiki corrected, putting away his cup and turning his eyes back to the encased Wrath. "Only one year."

The eldest Vongola brother tried to go back in for a demand of clarification, but the door startled him into silence, a loud snickering filling the room as the Varia Storm danced in with a kind of crazed care. Massimo cringed away from the boy, not quite having the stomach for the child's strange tendencies and imagination, leading the Vongola heirs to only watch as Belphegor grabbed at copper hands with a grin.

"Ottone~! The prince commands you play a game with him! Now, now, come!"

Daiki gazed down at the child and must have seen something, for he got to his feet and began walking, letting the young Flame tug him along like a trophy. The door thunked shut behind them, allowing the Vongola Sky to let out a breath.

"Oh Xanxus," the old man sighed, looking to the icebound Wrath. "You always did hold a place in your heart for the strange ones."


The doctor shook his head solemnly as he stepped out of the room, a hush falling through the compound as the people understood the decree of death. They lowered their heads and made noises of dismay.

The night was brimming with whispers, rumours, tales and suspicion. Everyone knew, no one had proof and no one was going to be the man who would risk their hand and point the finger.

"Impossible," Adachi Koga denied easily, walking alongside a man who had omitted to supply his name. "How could Watanabe-dono have done it? He has been in Italy for the last two weeks."

The man muttered in agreement as they rounded the corner, both choosing to ignore the young woman who sat by a harp. They parted ways and went about their business, preparations for the funeral being drawn up for the next week.

The swordsman paused at the landing between the realm of sakura and the house of men, a glance cast to the burning lamps that lit the building in a honeyed glow of vermilion. He reached and pulled out the newspaper that was tucked under his arm with a hum, opening it and finding an interesting article.

Old Bakery In Shopping District Burns Down

Article written by: Nakashima Nhi

Last night the Namimori Fire Brigade was called to put out the fire which had consumed the abandoned Yamaguchi Bakery which had long stood in the community. But by the time they had arrived, the inferno had consumed the building and had reduced it to ash; they were, however, able to save the surrounding buildings from receiving any damage.

"It's such a shame it's burnt down, some of us were hoping someone could have put that place to good use!" says a local.

However, not everyone will miss the vacant lot, with others happy it has fallen to flames.

"Good riddance," says another local. "That thing's been falling apart for ages, the kids keep going in there to shoot up! It's been enabling them!"

Neither Police nor Fire Brigade have made a comment on whether they believe the fire was deliberately lit, however, evidence of its hasty ignition and thorough destruction has the people of Namimori on their toes.

"Enabling them?" He hummed, tilting his head for a moment. "Yes, there were quite a lot of needles in there, wasn't there?"

The young boy bit his lip to keep it from quivering into a smile. He didn't know that being under Watanabe-Yamaguchi Daiki would be so fun.