OpalescentGold: I do not own Katekyo Hitman Reborn.

Eclipse

This is how they deal.

Distant

"Looks like Noriko's at it again, huh?" Takeshi laughs, but it's strained, matching the worry in his gaze. Noriko, currently seated on the very edge of the school rooftop, legs dangling over the long drop, is perfectly oblivious.

"Yeah..." Tsuna sighs, worrying his bottom lip with his teeth. This is bad. He's never quite seen Nori so out of it.

Hayato glances between them and then at Noriko, brow furrowed. "Juudaime? I'm sorry, I don't understand..." All he knows is that when he woke up after the fight, she was in this state and their enemies were apparently home free.

"Nori-chan gets like this in an Eclipse,'" Tsuna explains, carefully not taking his eyes of her even though Kyoya is lounging on the fence only five feet away. "It's usually not so bad though..."

"An 'eclipse,' Dame-Tsuna?" Reborn echoes questioningly, appearing out of nowhere to jump onto Takeshi's shoulder. It's a testament to how worried Tsuna is when he doesn't even jump at the surprise entrance.

"Eclipse," Tsuna confirms with a heavy exhale, fingers curling into fists. "I can't really explain it, but when there's a Judgment, Nori-chan just...goes away for a while."

Argument

The first time Tsuna witnesses Noriko like that is back in third grade, when Tsuna and Takeshi get in a fight. He doesn't even remember what they were arguing over, but he remembers how bad it was.

Tsuna's in tears, Takeshi's outright frowning, and they're actually shouting at each other, throwing hurtful accusations, when Noriko steps forward without any warning, though she'd stayed out of the argument the entire time before.

They turn to her in sync, ready to either direct their anger at her or beg her to make things right again but go motionless when they see the eerily blank expression on her face, the dispassionate look in eyes they are accustomed to seeing alight with emotion.

Enough, Noriko says, voice utterly apathetic and yet resolute as concrete, This argument is over. There is no point to continuing it when both participants are blinded by emotion, right and wrong in equal measures.

And there is a weight to her words, such an absolute conclusion, that neither Tsuna nor Takeshi can bring themselves to protest. It is the thud of a judge's gavel, the signed signature on a contrast, the final judgment passed.

Unchangeable. Immutable. Permanent.

Then, she wanders off, that blank, vacant expression still on her face, and they unanimously agree to let go of their anger and pain and confusion to worry about her instead.

Noriko's like that for the next three hours before slowly rousing enough to smile faintly at Takeshi and reassure Tsuna that she's alright. It'll happen again, she tells them. Don't worry. I'll come back.

But Tsuna can't help but worry, especially when the Eclipse lasts longer and longer after each time.

Remote

It's been a long time since she was in such a state, Noriko thinks to herself, with all of the aloof distance that comes from contemplating a disaster that happened four thousand years ago or thinking of a comet hitting the earth in another eon.

Abstract. Faraway. Remote.

This may as well not be happening to her. To Noriko. Someone off on the other side of the planet perhaps. Not someone she knows, not someone she cares about. Merely...there.

It is as if there is a chasm the length of eternity separating her from the rest of the world. No one can cross it, not her friends, not her family, not even herself. She's pressing her hands against a thick glass wall, and sound is muffled on her side, light distorted until it's shadow.

The last time Noriko felt such an immense vacuum, she wasn't Noriko. She was Cynthia, the head of the Cervello, the Vongola Adviser, the Judge. Back then...back then, the one on trial was Simon Cozarto.

It hadn't mattered that he was Giotto's friend. It hadn't mattered that he was a good man. It hadn't mattered that Cozarto had been coming to their aid.

All that mattered were the facts, the deeds, the outcome.

To be the Judge, to be the Arbiter, there cannot be bias. There cannot be prejudice, favoritism, emotions.

Only the Verdict.

That is why Judgments are made in the grip of an Eclipse.

It was, in the end, why Cynthia had been informal allies with the Vindice. They understood each other as no one else in this world could.

The Gestione Accord was the product of this uneasy coalition.

And that Vindice was right. Only one person - Cervello Cynthia - should have known about that Accord, for after she had died, it had been buried in time.

The sole problem is that Cynthia has been reincarnated into Noriko.

Comparison

Once, Giotto had compared this state to Hyper Dying Will Mode. Upon hearing him describe it, the lack of hesitation, the utter purpose, Cynthia had concluded that it was similar, but not the same.

There are still emotions in Hyper Dying Will Mode, after all.

Giotto had been the one who named this phase as "the Lunar Arbiter's Eclipse."

Awareness

It isn't as if Noriko is unconditionally cut off from the world around her. She knows her family is worried. She knows.

She simply does not understand why this is important.

There is no problem. The decision has been reached, the bargain struck. Food and sleep are unnecessary since her body can sustain itself for another two weeks with no immense difficulties.

Why are they hovering around her? There is no reason. There is no dispute, no argument, no battle.

In the Eclipse, Noriko lives for the Judgment.

It is as simple, and as complicated, as that.