A/N: I want to apologize for not updating for ages, but I've just had a rather rough year with a lot of personal life hang ups. I just prioritized my health this year, and thought I should take a break. I hope everyone else had a better year and that you guys are in good health. It's been hard for everyone I bet, and I wish everyone the best. So stay safe everyone!
I also want to thank everyone for being so supportive and sticking around! It's such a pleasure, and I'm so glad that you're enjoying the story! Thank you, thank you!
He was six when he confined his aunt about his worries. Something that he held in for the longest of time before he decided to share when each passing night grew weary on him.
"I think I'm going mad." Lambo admitted casually one day, looking down at his new book on Why We Sleep with deep, dark bags underneath his eyes.
Aunt Ottavia pauses mid-sip, brown eyes blinking over the brim of the cup. They grew severe as she placed the cup down, a frown on her aged but still beautiful face.
"And why is that, Lambo?" She asked sharply, concern lacing her tongue.
Lambo rubbed his eyes tiredly. "I...I can't sleep. The missions, the things I've done. I've killed so many people, and every time I just close my eyes, I..."
Ottavia exhaled heavily at his desperate words, a grim look in her eyes. She brushes a hand on his cheek, rubbing the bags with care.
"Lambo, were they all your targets?" She prodded gently.
"No." Lambo denied quickly, shaking his head. "Most of them were just in my way to my targets. It was always...quicker to kill them and easier."
He flinched at his confession, green eyes lowering. "Aunt Ottavia, I don't...not after Nina. I don't want to become cruel."
She took a moment to digest the information, brushing her thumb over his cheek. Lambo leaned into it with his eyes closed, utterly exhausted beyond belief. He tries not to let the images of Nina's bloodsoaked form pointing accusingly at him in his dreams. A hoard of bodies strewn across the horizon and the permanent taste of blood on his tongue. How distasteful, he thinks.
"Have you thought of getting a new weapon?" Ottavia began, pulling back thoughtfully. "A non-lethal one. From what I know, you haven't trained in any weapons other than firearms, correct? Then I believe this would be a good opportunity for you."
Lambo blinked like a turtle, and he blames it on his current status of being severely sleep-deprived. "I...haven't thought about that before, my tutors-"
"-are nothing but fools. Don't think about them." His aunt cuts in with a scowl. "Do something you want for a change, not only what they taught you to do."
"...alright," Lambo tilts his head curiously. "But what should I choose? I'm not exactly an expert in all of this, aunt Ottavia."
She smiled, lowering her head to his level. "Why don't you look for one yourself? One that suits you."
There's a playful grin on her face as she jerks her head to the west side of the mansion, straight towards the Bovino storages where they kept most of their manufactures.
"You should check out storage number six. That's the place where most of the safer weapons are stored." Ottavia turned towards him with a chuckle. "That was my favorite place to train, did you know?"
The boy widened his eyes and shook his head. His aunt smiled at her nephew, "I've trained with most of the weapons there, but I might be shaky from not having practiced in years. Hopefully, whatever you pick, I can still teach you the arts of it."
"Aunt Ottavia is amazing." Lambo beamed, causing her to laugh and shoo him away.
"Flatterer!" Ottavia cooed as she watched him hop down from his seat and place his book on the table. "Now go, I'll wait here."
Lambo nodded excitedly at her and jogged away towards storage number six.
Storage number six was indeed mostly made up of simpler weapons, and Lambo looked up in awe at the hundreds of them lining the walls. They were more impressive than the firearms he currently uses in his work.
He traced the weapons, at the nunchucks and knives, and appreciates the quality of these productions. There was even a pair of tonfas that Lambo pokes at, remembering a certain individual that wields it with awe. A katana catches his eye, and he plays with the idea of wielding it before deciding against it, having found the idea of using it to be a little off. What about a baton? Nah.
Carrying on, Lambo stopped all of a sudden when he noticed a cane-like weapon stashed to the side. Tilting his head, Lambo grabbed it from where it was hung with a look of interest and turned it over his hand.
Feeling it, Lambo deduced it's built with some sort of metal as he gripped it between his hands. With a quick flick of his wrist, Lambo jumped when one end of the cane stretched out further with a click, extending itself. Green eyes blinked at this before a gleam entered his eyes. He twirled the other side and found himself fascinated by how it stretched out too.
"A bō?" He commented under his breath. "A collapsible one?"
He fiddled around with the staff before finding a button that snapped the two sides back to its original place. A flick of his wrist and the sides lengthens out again. The boy hums, looking around him to make sure nobody was looking before pushing a palm out, bō tucked under his arm, and yelled a childish 'hiya!'. Doing an exaggerated spin, Lambo was about to strike another pose when the staff flew from his fingers, landing on the floor with a sharp clang. It rolls away from him in an awkward sequence, and Lambo stares silently. He crouches down, covering his face to hide away his red cheeks at what he just did. To think he'd act on his childhood dreams. So embarrassing!
Peeking between his fingers, Lambo searches for the bō that had rolled away from him and groans when he notices it's gone underneath the storage shelves. Striding towards it, Lambo grunted as he tried to pull the rack out of the way, feet sliding across the floor from his weak attempt at moving it. After a while, Lambo managed it, enough to squeeze through the crack with his small form at least. It was a tight fit, but Lambo marveled at the space behind the shelf as he lowered his head to grab the bō from the floor. He made a sound of surprise when he caught something.
It was barely noticeable, but touching the flooring with his fingers, Lambo raised his brows when he realized what he'd found.
It's a trap door.
He pressed harder against the rough lining of the entrance, concealed underneath the shelf and small enough to keep it hidden from the public eye if placed just right. Standing up with the staff in his hand, Lambo looked on pensively and refrain himself from exploring like a fanboy. Lambo turned to go and inform aunt Ottavia when the door collapsed under him. Literally.
"Holy shi-!" Lambo cried out as he tumbled, covering his head with his arms when his body hit the stairs. He smashed against the edges painfully as he descended.
Dust flew when Lambo crashed onto an even platform, meanwhile groaning as he pushed himself up with his arms. He coughed, waving the mist of dust flying in the air around him with watering eyes. The sight of an old dusty and cobwebbed room greeted him when he raised his head. It was filled with boxes and weapons very much like the Bovino storages, except smaller and half the size of his bedroom. It's too dark, Lambo squinted as he stumbled to a stand, using the light entering through the trap door to navigate the room.
He took it all in and furrowed his brow when he registered that this room probably hasn't been used for the last 50 years, give or take. Touching a moldy wall, Lambo jumped back with his face scrunched in disgust.
Rubbing his arms that will surely bruise by the end of the day, Lambo moved warily closer to one of the boxes strewn to the side and ducks his head in closer. He pried it open to check, the blank look in his face transforming to a flabbergasted one as he snapped his head up.
The hell?
"A bō?" Ottavia inquired, scrutinizing his weapon of choice.
Lambo nodded as he tapped the cover of his book, watching as she picked up the staff nervously. "Is it any good?"
Standing up from her seat, aunt Ottavia stretched her shoulders before flicking her wrists, extending the bō with ease. Lambo gazed in amazement as she tested the size, weighing it lightly, and spun it with a face set in utmost concentration. She stepped side to side and threw the staff behind her, and then forwards again in continuous motion. Ottavia ended with a strike downwards, the bō hovering centimeters over the table.
She exhaled serenely and opened her eyes, her poise transforming with a single beam of her lips. "This suits you, Lambo!"
The boy looked starstruck at his aunt, "You'll teach me that, right?"
Ottavia laughed, "I don't see any reason why I shouldn't teach you."
At the confirmation, Lambo all but smiled as he peered downwards, relief evident in his eyes as he dragged his book towards his chest.
"Tomorrow?" He asked, and Ottavia chuckled.
"Tomorrow." She smiled fondly at his barely contained excitement.
Lambo nodded before falling silent, biting the inside of his cheek as he wondered how he'll breach his next topic.
"Say..." He began slowly, eyeing Ottavia who sits down. "Does the Bovino Famiglia have a...heirloom?" Like the Vongola's, you know, with the rings and all. Things that get passed down from generations and generations, like, I think even the Constatine Familgia has something like family portraits...and stuff."
Wow, Lambo thought as he watched his aunt scrunch up her brows in confusion, a way to bring up the topic without sounding suspicious. Lambo mentally bangs his head against the table and scolds himself for not having planned it more carefully.
"Well," His aunt starts with uncertainty. "We do have a lot of artifacts passed down for generations, but they're nothing as big or as important to warrant special attention like that of the Vongola inheritances."
Lambo frowned at this, both disappointed and confused as he glanced to the side. His Oliver-esque mind asking all sorts of questions about this surprising fact and demanding for more answers.
"But," Lambo lifted his head, catching the brightness of Ottavia's eyes. I have heard we had a weapon renowned for time-traveling."
"Time-travelling." Lambo echoed, and she nods.
"Yes, time-traveling. It might sound insane, but it's true, and we were famous for it. Only a few people can understand the responsibility of what this gift can do. The Donna of the Giglio Nero being one of them, and the Bovino Famiglia being the other." She explained.
"We were quite powerful because of it." Her reminiscent eyes dropped. "Though, it only lasted for a couple of years as the time-traveling device disappeared after our golden years ended, decades ago. None of the Bovino knows where it is anymore. We only keep the rumors alive to intimidate enemy factors."
Oliver popped in, "What do you mean by disappearing?"
She shrugged, "Just as it sounds, poof, gone. It still causes my brother great fury at the lost device that was the sole reason that brought our small famiglia to prosper. I should be disappointed too, as I grew up with these stories. However, I can't help but feel glad that it's not in the hands of that son of a bi- jerk. In the hands of that jerk."
Lambo breathed in deeply, "So nobody...knows about it?"
Ottavia looked at him with a glint in her eyes. "No, not really. Why?"
He shook his head, coughing into his fist. "Nothing. I was just curious, that's all."
She stared at him with suspicion, but after Lambo asked her what they were starting with in tomorrow's training, she was quick to inform him about the basics. Hands waving animatedly around and explained briefly on how to properly hold a bō.
Green eyes twinkled at her gestures.
Placing the last flashlights around the little room, Lambo was quick to turn them on. He flinched shortly at the sudden brightness but adjusted to it quickly with a quiet groan. Rubbing his eyes, Lambo moved towards the table he'd dragged to the middle and placed a heavy chest on top of it with a dusty thump.
He was back in the hidden room, reading through the thousands of papers scattered around the room and inside boxes, explaining all sorts of experiments and formulas to make weapons. A recipe, Lambo thinks as he observed one of the pink grenades in his hand.
There was a sigh as Lambo placed the papers back on the table. Rubbing his hair before he glanced towards the long chest beside him. He hesitated for a moment but forced himself to open the lid anyway.
Lambo felt faint at what he saw.
It was the bazooka.
Shining in all its purple glory.
Lambo nearly laughed out hysterically when the Oliver part of his soul threw a mental celebration, shouting 'finally' in his mind, jumping like an excited child. It sounds just like what he would have done if he'd still been the man he was back then, Lambo recalls nostalgically, but things have changed.
It's like a dream seeing the device, and he touched the smooth but dusty surface of it, and couldn't help but let out an awed gasp when he finally pulls it out. Lambo had...honestly started to believe he would never find this, but seeing the real thing, it's kinda surreal.
He cleans the bazooka with the cloth he's brought and wonders if finding it changed anything in the end. He was older than the original Lambo, perhaps only by a year, but still different. Is his future even...still the same? Lambo fiddled with the trigger of the bazooka, hooking the wire the same way he saw in the show. He hovers over the trigger.
Should he try it?
It's only a trigger away.
Forget it, Lambo snaps as he stepped back with a wry smile. Whatever's on the other side of that future, it scares him. The answers that he'll find.
Lambo sighed as he took one last look at the bazooka before glancing down at his watch. Where the black wristbands used to be was only the scarred version of them looping around his wrists like lightning and split branches. He looked at the time and hummed.
"I should get going." He said to himself and walked away.
Only to slip on the moldy floor under him and yelped. He stumbled back as he hit the table behind him, and Lambo grabbed onto the edge to stabilize himself. He exhaled, holding the side of his face at being thrown off balance so suddenly, only to hear a strange rattle. He craned his head, and green eyes widened when he saw the bazooka heading straight for him. The darkness of the device swallowed his sights before he could even think to move away, and a click reached his ears.
Then poof.
A fog of pink greeted Lambo's sights, leaving him shocked and speechless for a moment before he hastily sat up from where he was sitting, and waved the smoke away quickly. His heart pounded when he realized the bazooka had landed on him.
Landed. On him.
He's in the goddamn future.
Lambo worries that his heart will explode with how fast it was racing by the time the smoke started to disperse from his view. And when it did, he was startled to find himself sitting on a rather fancy couch in a huge living room, surrounded by other comfortable seats. For a moment, he questioned if he moved to the fancier parts of the Bovino mansion when something moved at the corner of his eye.
Lambo jerked his body, ready to flip over it and grab his knives hidden under his socks when warm chocolate brown eyes greeted him instead. He froze, green eyes wide as he stared at the man sitting across from him with one leg cross over the other, a gentle smile on his face. The suited man was handsome with gravity-defying hair that looked soft to the touch, a sharp face that relaxed at the sight of Lambo, completely calm. He tilts his head with an open look of fondness that Lambo could only associate with aunt Ottavia and Nina, never any other.
"Hello, Lambo." Sawada Tsunayoshi spoke kindly, because who else can it be.
Lambo did what any other sane person would do in this situation.
He hurled the couch pillow, straight for Tsunayoshi's face.
The brunet blinked, ducking with a look of complete shock upon his face, and ducks again when Lambo throws another.
"W-Wait!" The Vongola Decimo stutters, holding his hands out to pacify the threatening rise of Lambo's pillow loaded hand. "Lambo, wait!"
The boy paused, breathing heavily from both exertion and the way his face was heated up in alarm. He wasn't ready, he screeched through his head.
"Look, Lambo, just calm down-"
Whump!
His next throw hits with enough force to push Tsuna back into his seat, and Lambo watches the motionless form that had the pillow stuck to his face with a look of horror. Oh my god, Lambo thinks like the mess he is, that did not just happen.
"Ah." Lambo utters quietly, and the pillow slides off Tsuna's face to reveal his stunned look.
The Sky sits there in silence and Lambo sweats nervously at what that means when a laugh bursts out from the older. Lambo jumps at the sound, staring at Tsuna whose gripping his stomach and laughing wildly.
"I-I didn't think that this would happen the first time you used it." Tsuna says, wiping the tears from his eyes with how hard he's laughing.
Lambo flushes, and Tsuna smiles at this before reaching out to him. It's a slow gesture, swooping low before moving higher in a deliberate manner, and the boy allows it to enter his space without much trouble. A hand cards through his hair.
"It's so strange seeing you so young again." Tsuna muses with a chuckle. "You must be awfully confused."
Brown eyes lower towards him, "What's it like being in the future for the first time?"
"I..." Lambo trails off, and Tsuna seems to realize something.
"I didn't really introduce myself did I?" An awkward laugh escapes him, and Tsuna rubs the back of his head. It's such a...Tsuna thing to do, Lambo remarks dazed.
"I'm Sawada Tsunayoshi." Tsuna greets. "And I know you very much, Lambo. In the future, at least."
His hand returns back on top of Lambo's head in a gentle manner.
"...everything is going to be alright." Tsuna says sincerely, and Lambo snaps his head up.
Brown fading into orange sees through him like glass.
"That's what you of the future wants me to tell you when you use the teen-year-later bazooka for the first time." He says, a peculiar look upon his face. "You don't have to worry anymore, Lambo."
A shaky breath whooshes out of Lambo as he lowers his head to hide his face. Wondering if his worries were that obvious, and that just by those words was enough to put them all to rest. He leans into the hand and tries not to show how much he wants to cry in relief.
Tsuna's eyes flicker to the clock in the room, "Time is up, Lambo."
Green eyes fluttered open, and the boy nods.
"I wish we can have a proper talk but for now," Tsuna smiles before he pulls Lambo into a sudden hug. The boy stutters, completely out of his depths at being squished all of a sudden, and he's pretty sure he's screaming inside like a banshee.
In the distance, Lambo heard the faint click of a door opening but ignored it even when a familiar voice echoed out, because Tsuna was hugging him!
Tsuna patted his back and gave him one last smile before Lambo's vision faded with pink smoke and a familiar poof sounding in his ear.
Blinking a few times, Lambo finds himself back inside the hidden room. Nothing had changed at first glance, but taking another look, he startles when he realized that his older self must have tidied up the place. Things he couldn't move before because of his lack of strength was moved and stacked against the walls, making it easier to move around.
Lambo gawks but compliments his future self for being so helpful.
So this is the bazooka, the boy thinks as he eyes the device. An excited gleam enters his eyes when he remembers Tsuna's warm hands brushing his head and the way his eyes burned like the dawn.
It seems his fears are unfounded, Lambo grinned.
Like a lightning strike, Lambo recalls the first part of their meeting and promptly slams his head against the table with a muffled scream.
Oh my god, he really did it, Lambo cries with embarrassment. He just wasn't ready! How was he supposed to react in that situation!?
The second time Lambo used the bazooka again wasn't after two weeks had passed. It had sounded ridiculous at that time as Oliver would have jumped at the chance of experimenting with the device, but after the spectacle he made of himself at the presence of Sawada freaking Tsunayoshi, Lambo shunned off time-traveling. Too embarrassed to ever face the man again until he sucked up his nerve to try again.
Perhaps he should have planned more carefully when he decided to use the bazooka again, and he doesn't know, remain calm? Because Lambo was pretty sure he wasn't breathing as he gaped astonished at one Yamamoto Takeshi, older and taller and tanned and towering over him with a similar look of surprise. A surprise that quickly morphs into a wide grin as he crouches down with his shinai flung over his shoulder, and laughed delighted a the sight of Lambo. There is something bright shining in those brown eyes.
"I forgot how cute you were when you were younger!" Yamamoto commented with a grin that seemed to last forever.
Even though Lambo had promised himself to be more careful when traveling to the future, he couldn't help but reel back affronted at this. "C-Cute?"
Yamamoto laughed as he brought his large hands up sharply to rub Lambo's hair, only to place them to his sides instead of when the boy leaned away.
"Though, you're still cute now too." The older added cheekily.
Lambo tries to defend his honor, "D-Don't call me that, I'm not cute!"
"Sure you're not." Yamamoto agreed half-heartedly, grinning.
Lambo huffed indignantly, one part of him wondering if this was how the Rain Guardian has always acted as he remembers him differently from when he was Oliver. Well, to how he acts towards Lambo Bovino anyway. It's just, was Yamamoto teasing him? Lambo didn't know how to feel about this. Oliver didn't know how to feel about this either. When neither of them knew what to do, it was understandable that they both decided to pull back.
"A-Anyways." Lambo stuttered before the older, still nervous as he backed away from the Rain that raised his brows at his unsubtle retreat. "I gotta, uhm. I, uh, I will go this way, and, and see...stuff."
"Stuff?" Yamamoto repeats, twitching his lips.
"Stuff." Lambo agrees sagely.
Yamamoto stares at him with a look of amusement, and Lambo felt his cheeks burn with embarrassment, mentally reprimanding himself at his graceless delivery and gosh darn it boy, you have killed dozens without fail and mercy, and now you start acting like a child? What even are you? You're older than you look, so start acting like it!
While he had an inner crisis, Yamamoto only nodded in agreement with Lambo's odd request and grins wider than his first one if that was even possible as he stood up. He waves childishly towards Lambo, who was a child mind you (—physically at least—), and starts to back away slowly.
"Alright, Lambo-chan." He chimes with restrained chuckles, and Lambo muttered a gobsmacked 'chan, chan?' under his breath, all the while backing up too.
They both stared at each other, one fondly entertained while the other was timidly wary. It was Lambo who whirled around first to walk out of there and around a corner as fast as he could with his cheeks flaming red. The last thing Lambo heard before he was taken away by a mist of pink was Yamamoto's ecstatic shouts of, "Chrome! Guess who got lucky with meeting Lambo this time!"
Poof.
Lambo breathed as he struck, stepping forwards before his aunt stepped out and swung too, forcing him to block and move back. Ottavia looked satisfied at this, a proud smile on her lips as she twirled her own staff to rest by her side.
"You're getting much better." She praised, and Lambo beamed, bringing his bō staff close to his chest.
"I've been training!" Lambo reported, and they both knew his training had involved smacking people in their faces whenever he was on his missions.
"I know you have," Ottavia said with an amused smile, brown eyes twinkling.
Stepping back, Ottavia widened her stance and pointed her staff at him, jerking her head in challenge. Lambo grinned as he rushed ahead, performing a tumble when his aunt swung her staff and straightened up to strike at her side with a happy laugh.
Ottavia laughs back as she blocks.
The third time Lambo used the bazooka turned out to be a mistake as he stared apprehensively at Gokudera Hayato, who seemed just as frozen to see him. His long piano fingers clutched tightly at the papers in his hands, reports by the looks of it, and blinked his mint eyes at him.
His lips thinned, and the Storm seemed conflicted on how to act at the sight of Lambo, ten years younger.
Lambo, however, had only gaped for a short while before contorting swiftly to a pained grimace. Memories of Gokudera younger and naive self leaning against the balcony, unaware of the target on his head, and Nina's cold body strewn across the bloody floor, causing even now, the fresh wound to reopen. Lambo swallowed, feeling nauseous and too emotional to stand being next to Gokudera, who he had saved, but in turn, traded Nina's life for.
He did the only thing he could do at that moment. He ran. Picking up his pace as Lambo darted down the hallway of rich colors and old portraits, and reached the end in lightning-fast speed, practically skidding around the corner. His eyes burned, but he told himself to hold it in, just hold it in and not let the memories weigh down on him.
Lambo tries to ignore Gokudera's alarmed face and his hand that had reached out for him, sinking down in defeat. The words the man had wanted to say cut short due to Lambo's retreat. The Bovino tries not to feel guilty at the flash of hurt that he sees.
Another vicious part of him snarls that he doesn't want to see it.
Poof.
It was around this time that Lambo noticed that the bazooka had disappeared, leaving him to panic as he looked high and low for the time-traveling device, wondering if he'd recklessly lost it. Only to feel up his body and find out that it was inside his clothes. Pulling it out with a face of great befuddlement and a sharp whisper of 'what?' Lambo then proceeded to pull more things out of his shirt. Grenades. The whisper had turned into a hysterical 'what the fuck?!' by now.
Oliver had a field day trying to figure that out as Lambo had a mental breakdown from this—this miracle that was science.
Was this the secret to Lambo Bovino's afro?
The other times he used the bazooka, was mostly Lambo deciding to abandon all fears to quench the thirst for adventure growing in his chest. The feelings pushed against the limits he put on himself when it came to these childish things, but in those days, he felt more Oliver than he did Lambo, and wasn't that concerning? So he traveled more times than he planned, hiding around corners and places that shrouded his presence in the future.
On the other hand, it also made the chances of meeting the future guardians rise with his growing visits, like Sasagawa Ryohei running outside, Gokudera who still looked hurt whenever he ran away, and Tsuna who always gave a soft smile at his appearance. Lambo's pretty sure he saw the Varia at one point too, or rather, he heard the loud 'Vooooiiiii' echo through the mansion. However, the most notable meeting that Lambo never fails to recall, happened unsurprisingly to be Hibari Kyoya.
Lambo shivered, just the name of the Cloud Guardian brought about his heightened paranoia as he glanced over his shoulder, expecting the demon to pop out any moment now. This new profound fear was quite rational, as the first time Lambo had the honors to walk into the demon's path, he had gaped a little too dumbfounded at the blank face of the former prefect.
Lambo, at first, hadn't feared the man, because what was there to fear? What Oliver remembered from the series, Hibari was just a fictional character that happened to be on his 'badass character' list, and also happened to be stuck behind a screen. He couldn't touch this, was Lambo's sassy response as he mentally dragged his hands across his very being. Though that had all changed when Hibari had taken one look at him, a smile gracing his face (—holy shit, Oliver whimpers, it looked absolutely bloodthirsty—), and made Lambo realize that there wasn't a screen separating them anymore because-
"Ho?" The man had said whilst pulling his tonfas out. "I see an omnivore-in-training."
And then Hibari had chased him. Honest to god, chased him down the hallways like the predator he was, swiping at the six-year-old boy any chance he got. Lambo had booked it, feeling like running away from people was his second hobby now, apart from reading, as he rushed past two teens that had suspiciously looked like an older Fuuta and I-pin. He didn't get a good look, busy ducking the next swing. All in all, Lambo survived through every encounter so far, even managing to outrun Hibari most of the time. This fact surprises him as it never ceases to sound more skeptical till Lambo does it again. And again. And again.
And with that, began Lambo's paranoia of everything, choosing to hide rather than interact as he crouched behind a corner, peering carefully out. Scared that the first thing he sees this trip into the future would be Hibari's unamused face before the brunt of his tonfa slammed into his face.
Nothing.
Lambo breathed in relief.
"Omnivore."
Lambo froze in horror as he gripped his bō tightly. He turned around rigidly, gaze meeting a pair of smartly dressed pants, and slowly looked up. One Hibari Kyoya looked impassively down at Lambo's cowering form, glinting tonfas on each hand.
Oh my god, Lambo mentally whispers. He was going to die.
To his delight, pink smoke erupted around him just as Hibari moved to swing at him, barely avoiding an early death!
Poof.
The relief was short-lived as he found himself blinking through the pink mist, absently telling himself that he was sitting on a stool, and paled when the smoke dispersed.
Aunt Ottavia calmly sipped her tea as she stared nonchalantly back at him.
Lambo stammered, "I-I-I wasn't-"
"-using the infamous Bovino time-traveling device and thoughtlessly, and recklessly, mind you, with no regards to the consequences of your actions, go into the future? Do tell, my adorable nephew." Ottavia said smoothly as she sipped her tea again, eyeing him judgingly.
Lambo bit his lips, "...I might have?"
She rolled her eyes, "Oh for the love of—I don't care, Lambo, I'm more disappointed at the fact that you didn't tell me."
He raised his shoulders, meekly glancing up apologetically when he met his aunt's saddened brown eyes. "I'm sorry, Aunt Ottavia."
She sighed, putting her tea down. "I forgive you."
With a start, Aunt Ottavia leaned towards him, hand pressed to her cheek as she gushed, "Anyways! You have so much to tell, what was it like? Was it exciting? And gosh, you became such a charming young man, you were absolutely adorable and well-spoken!"
Lambo blinked, "You met...me?"
Ottavia nodded excitedly with a bright smile, "I did."
Lambo couldn't help it, he snorted. "Was he a cow-printed cardigan-wearing a lazy head with sandals or something?"
It was his aunt's turn to blink as she innocently brought her teacup up to her lips, "Not at all."
The boy gaped in surprise at this, then realized he never did find a photo of him, as he always seemed to appear in an unfamiliar hallway somewhere in the future.
Huh.
Isn't that an interesting discovery?
Meeting Chrome was perhaps the calmest and the least eventful occasion compared to the rest of the guardians so far. Sitting quietly beside her as she flipped through a catalog, only smiling at him once when he appeared, and considerately shifted away from him to give him space. It was thoughtful of her as Lambo's tense shoulders relaxed, fingers twitching at the feel of a book cover underneath them. Peering down, Lambo picked up the paperback and wondered if this was his olderselve's current read. Curiously peeking at the title, Lambo smiled as he saw the classic title of The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes on the cover and even started to flip the pages.
A soft silence drifted between the two as he read the first line of the book, but slowly and surely, Lambo finds himself glancing towards Chrome tucked in on her side of the couch.
He lowered his book.
"...your name?" Lambo questioned hesitantly despite knowing it already, but it always felt nice to get a real introduction as him.
Chrome paused her hand, looking up with her big purple eye that shone at his inquiry, a soft smile on her lips.
"Chrome Dokuro." She said while shifting closer, lifting her hand up. "It's very nice to meet you, Lambo."
Lambo couldn't help but feel shy on Oliver's behalf, lifting his hand to shake hers, noting how much smaller he was in her grip. After that, they went back to their comfortable silence, taking solace in each other's company as they read their respective article. He was more than disappointed when his time was up and waved back at Chrom who said with a soft smile, "See you, Lambo."
Poof.
Lambo was panting hard as he rushed through the dark-lit forest he had run into to escape the enemies that were chasing him. His feet carried him lightly through the terrain before he leaped to the left when bullets flew over his head. He collides against a tree with a pained groan, clutching his leg that was now sporting a bullet wound. Lambo checked it with a hiss, pulling up his short cargo pants that's already sporting bloodstains, and saw that it had only nicked him on the deeper end.
Leaning against the trunk, the young assassin turned his head carefully out and observed the enemies currently at the lookout for him, their dark suits blending in with the darkness of the forest.
The mission he was given this time entailed the killing of a trader, one that was under Claudio's eye for a long time before he deigned to deal with the target and sent Lambo off. And Lambo had done it, breaking into the target's house without signaling the guards, swiftly entering the man's office, and killing him with a silenced gun.
It was a splatter of blood that, unfortunately, Lambo has seen too much to be fazed by it anymore. Only staring listlessly ahead as he lowered his hand when his target had slumped onto his desk, dead. It would have been a successful mission without the guards on his hind if it weren't for the door behind him opening suddenly. Leaving him to whirl around to subdue the person who had wandered in, only to drop his aim when he saw a little girl instead.
She came in with a giggle before looking up, big blue eyes widening at the sight as her feet froze in place, the smile replaced with a horrified intake of breath. She took in Lambo's frozen form to his target behind him with a look that said she was processing the horrid sight. Her lips trembled when she understood, shock blatant on her face as her big eyes grew wider and petrified, tears falling down her cheeks. With a broken whisper, she echoed a haunted, "...Papa?"
Just remembering it brought chills to course through Lambo, who had at that time realized he had just murdered a father. A father of a little girl who had screamed in terror and anguish as she fell to her knees in a fit of hysteria. And Lambo was the one that caused that.
Taking a shuddering breath from both the pain in his leg and in memory, Lambo leaned his head against the tree, taking refuge there as he stared at his palms. There is so much blood in his hands, Lambo thinks quietly, so much. How many times? How many fathers, mothers, sons, and daughters? Just how many innocents will he take under someone else's orders?
Lambo swallowed down bile at the thought and wonders how was he any different from Claudio? A murderer. Nina's murderer.
It's scary, he thinks, how easy it is to kill.
The sound of bullets hitting the trunk is what broke Lambo from his reverie. Jerking his body, Lambo reloads the gun in his hand and tucks it into his thigh holster, and flicks his bō out in preparation. He emptied his mind and focused on more pressing matters than his own problems.
Without a second thought, Lambo dashed out from his hiding spot, ignoring the pain in his leg to launch himself at the first guard he sees. He swings his staff and hits it across the man's head with a painful thwack that sends him falling to the ground. Lambo uses that moment and catapults himself to the next guard pointing his gun at him, only to fall prey to Lambo's harsh roundhouse kick.
He lands back on his feet with a stumble and wince, only to twirl his bō and disarm the enemy sneaking behind him, sending his weapon flying into the bushes. The boy jabbed his staff forwards with pursed lips, striking the man's gut, and sent a brutal swing at the man's head when he doubled over and was sent flying to his side, out cold.
Lambo breathed harshly, shoulders heaving as he examined the scene before him, limping when he took a step back. The sound of voices coming from further down the forest made Lambo snap his head up and promptly start running the best he could. He was nearly out of their range when a random spray of bullets erupted through the air, causing him to muffle his scream when another bullet lodged itself to his side.
Memories flashed before his eyes, before Oliver's eyes as he fell to his knees, remembering the time he was shot in this exact spot before he died. Clutching his bō, Lambo wheezed against the grass as he grabbed his side, noting the blood and knew he'll bleed out before he could reach back to his aunt. Just like last time.
He breathed shakily and glared through blurry eyes.
With trembling arms, Lambo did the only thing he could do at this moment.
Lambo brought the bazooka out from inside of his bloodied clothes, aiming it carefully at his head, coughing while at it, and was thankful there was no blood. He closes his eyes, and Lambo lets the device fall over him.
He hopes his future self will take the situation in and escape for him.
Peering out through blurry eyes, Lambo took notice that he was lying strewn across the marble floor instead of the wet grass. His fingers jerked against the growing red puddle beneath him, so similar to a past that transcends this one. He struggled to breathe, feeling hazy as his body felt unnaturally cold as he tried to sit up to no avail. He wonders if he'll die here, in the future, and what will become of his body.
Sounds of shoes tapping hurriedly to his side are what made his hazy mind clear somewhat. A broad hand lands carefully on his shoulders before moving him to lie on the floor. Lambo looks from beneath lidded eyes, registering the somber and frowning face to be none other than Sasagawa.
Uncharacteristically quiet and serious as he assessed Lambo's bloodied form and lifted his apparel to check the bullet wounds.
"Lambo," Sasagawa called out, demanding Lambo's attention. "Whatever you do, don't close your eyes and stay awake. I'll do my best to heal you, but I need you to stay extremely still, alright?"
Throughout the rather serious demand, Lambo couldn't help but smile faintly at the 'extreme' of all things, glad that at least he heard something familiar. This grim approach by the usually sunny and energized boxer unnerved him.
A light of yellow bursts from Sasagawa's palm and Lambo stares down at the flames that are healing his injuries. It's warm, Lambo observes, just like his aunt's.
He rests his head against the floor and distances himself from his injuries, only to remember why he had obtained them in the first place. He remembers the girl who screams and cries at him to give her father back and the hatred in her eyes.
Lambo remembers and grows cold.
Maybe...maybe he should just-
"Stop thinking." Startled, Lambo whirled his eyes towards Sasagawa's blue-grey ones (—Nina, they reminded him so much of Nina—), and he looks wilful. "You always have that look when you go too deep into that head of yours."
His Sun flames glow bright and resolute.
"Don't extremely think too deeply about it, Lambo." Sasagawa says, brushing Lambo's messy hair from his face. "After all, It will only hurt more in the end."
Lambo tears up and nods because there's wisdom in his words and there is kindness. The older smiles with his blue-grey eyes that make Lambo hurt at the familiarity of it, but they're different, Lambo acknowledges. For Nina's eyes have always been soft and gentle, his eyes in comparison were...strong and passionate in a way that Nina could never be, was never allowed to be.
"You'll be fine," Sasagawa assures, the flames flickering away. "Just take it easy from now on."
"I will." Lambo grins weakly towards the Sun Guardian. "Thanks, Ryohei."
Sasagawa, no, Ryohei blinks back at him and smiles brightly.
Poof.
Lambo wakes up to himself on a field of grass, watching the stars dotting the night sky in wonderous splatters.
He sits up, pressing a hand against his stomach, and finds his stomach wound healed while his leg remained as a semi-healed graze. It was enough as it didn't look like he would be bleeding out anytime soon.
Looking up, Lambo observed where he was and was surprised at how far he was from the site. It left Lambo's mind reeling, and Oliver to gape, because his older self must have traveled at least three km in five minutes during the time the younger went to the future. Which should be impossible. For any normal human pace, it would have taken at least twenty minutes for him to reach as far as this.
Dropping his eyes when he smelled burning grass, Lambo was surprised to take in that the small grass field he was laying upon was scorched with a trail of fading embers.
A/N: Ryohei is without doubt, Lambo's favorite (second only to Ottavia and Nina, much to Tsuna's disappointment)
Anyways I hope you enjoyed the story.
I...I never want to say this but I don't know if I'll continue this story with the same passion as before. It's just, I don't enjoy writing it as much as I should be, as it was based on something I wrote at least 4 years ago. Every time I look back at it, I want to change the whole story repeatedly and struggled with the direction it'll head. I just want to apologize before hand If I struggle with updating, it's just difficult, personally. So hundred apologies.