OpalescentGold: I do not own Katekyo Hitman Reborn.

Blood

This is what she wants.

Call

Cynthia was there when this building was constructed. She saw the blueprints; she watched it soar. Before Daemon's betrayal, before Japan, she walked the hallways, laughed in the dining hall, slept in that bedroom.

Times have changed the Vongola Headquarters, of course. Modern technology and strategies, including security systems, security guards, and security cameras, await her.

Normal civilians and trained professionals alike would find it near impossible to breach this mansion.

Cynthia circles around the compound and stands in front of the West Wing, near the back. She grabs the disposable phone she bought at the nearby convenience store and dials a number.

A minute later, a door appears before her. Exactly where it was created several centuries ago.

"Welcome home," the Cervello says with a deep bow.

Blackout

"Not. One. Word." Cynthia commands, eyes glowing silver and hair blowing in a nonexistent breeze. Her organization may have grown, may have prospered, but she remains the one true Moon.

Heads dip in acquiescence and respect. This is a branch of the mansion that belongs solely to the Cervello, has remained a secret among their numbers and the current Vongola Boss. And the Ninth is preoccupied at the moment.

"Where is it?"

Safe

Cynthia knows each and every last one of the passageways that dot the Vongola Mansion. Some are well-used, some are well-known, but the majority of them have been buried beneath time and secrecy.

It doesn't matter much to her.

One such corridor beneath the mansion leads directly into the Boss of the Vongola's room.

In the dead midst of the night, Cynthia calmly presses a section of the wall and a stone sinks in. The wall slides open, and she steps into the opulent room. It takes exactly three seconds to spot the safe.

She considers it and thinks of her options.

Time

In the early morning, Talbot walks into his living room and hears a terribly familiar voice.

"Talbot. It's been a very long time."

Talbot halts and then sighs. Hobbling over to the table where she sits, he settles his old bones down and says, "Lady Cynthia. It certainly has been a very long time."

"Who told you?"

"The Sky...the Sky..." Talbot smiles ruefully. "Who else but the Sky." All of the Vongola Rings whisper to him always, but it was the Primo who first murmured that the Moon would be visiting.

"Of course." He hears the smile in her voice, as well as the sadness. A tender hand touches him gently on the cheek.

"Ahhh, Lady Cynthia, time has been kind to me," Talbot comforts. "Do not be so troubled. Things are as they always were. You may be a beautiful young lady and I may be an old, blind man, but you are the Vongola Moon and I am the Metal Craftsman."

She sighs. In the distance, his sheep baa and then there is a jingle. "Your work has always been the best."

He reaches out and smiles at the warm metal weight that is pressed into his hand. "All these years and I have always considered these my very best," he says, clicking the pocket watch open.

"You know why I'm here, Talbot," Cynthia says, voice solemn.

"...yes. Yes, I do."

Coma

"My lady, there have been rumors," one of the two Cervello who approach her says.

Cynthia frowns. "What rumors?"

She exchanges a glance with her partner. "They say the Decimo's Rain Guardian has been critically injured," she reveals quietly.

Cynthia goes very, very still. "How injured?"

"...he's in a coma."

Her eyes flare silver.

Doubt

She turns and twists in bed that night, unable to fall asleep, not with the doubt that plagues her mind.

Is she Cynthia or Noriko? Is she Giotto's most valued confidant or Tsuna's best friend? Is she a woman in her thirties or is she a teenager? Is she alive or dead?

Should she have left?

Should she have said something to someone other than Mukuro?

Should she have confronted That Man immediately?

Should she have told the others about her past before leaving?

Should she have kept it hidden at all?

Is she doing the right thing? Is she doing the wrong thing?

Could she have prevented this?

Blue

Maybe it's the setting. Maybe it's the day.

Whatever the reason is, when she falls asleep at last, she dreams of the first time she met Daemon

A man with blue hair and blue eyes in a blue outfit smiles at her. "You must be Cynthia Cervello," he says. "I've heard a lot about you."

"Likewise, Daemon Spade," she responds evenly. "What do you think of Elena's dress today?"

"It's beautiful, but then, Elena is, and always will be, beautiful," Daemon says smoothly.

Cynthia's smile is bland. "And mine?"

He makes a point of taking a step back and giving her a once-over. "Lovely," he decides. "A perfect complement to Elena's."

But you're only lovely as a complement, goes unsaid, to her.

She laughs lowly and says, "Oh, Daemon, I think we're going to get along very well."

He smirks. "Excellent."

They both ignore Elena, who is openly gaping at them from a meter away. "I think I made a dreadful mistake introducing the two of you to each other," she laments.

"Nonsense," Cynthia disagrees. "Daemon, have you been introduced to Vongola yet?"

"No," he admits, "although Elena does enjoy talking about clams."

Cynthia almost breaks down laughing. Daemon smirks smugly.

Elena makes a face at both of them. "Giotto's coming by after the ball," she announces. "Would you like to meet him, Daemon?" She pulls the puppy-dog eyes.

Cynthia has lived with this girl for six years. They are sisters in everything but blood. She is spectacularly immune to that look.

Daemon isn't. "I...okay."