Hemp Flowers Meant Fate
Chapter 4
This chapter isn't edited in any way, shape, or form. If you see an error, please tell me!
Warnings: Graphic language. Mentions of body disfiguration. General. Rushed writing.
A/N: Thank you everyone who reviewed last chapter, and/or voted for this chapter to be updated in that poll I set up just a week ago, lol. I appreciate all the feedback! I updated this faster than I thought possible, though it seems a bit short. But faster updates require shorter chapters, so I try to make it up by—including hopefully interesting stuff in the chapter?
I hope. ._.
Anyways, I'm glad so many people like Skull's POV last chapter! A lot of people were annoyed by Reborn and Colonnello's actions towards Skull, and some were even confused at Reborn's apparent lack of concern towards Luce's death. I'll clear it up here: Skull is an unreliable narrator, especially concerning his thoughts towards Reborn, lolololol.
Also, if things seem slow and 'melodramatic'—did you read the genre for this story? D: If I could have an angsty Harry dying of two curses, despite probably being weakened to an insane degree and is left with nothing but his own thoughts and feelings, skydiving and landing on a velociraptor to go kick ass, I promise you, I would.
But for now: enjoy!
[Edit 9/20/17: Fixed up, and added some things. Added a bit more info regarding LASIK, though not much. :]
Teddy cooed at him.
Harry had to admit he was still cute, despite being well into his 'terrible two' phase. He watched Teddy babble to him, nodding along at the right parts, and gingerly wincing when Teddy seemed to find his hair interesting and tugged on it. Hard. Teddy's hair and eyes changed color, briefly settling on one color or another before moving on. It was kind of mesmerizing to watch.
And it reminded Harry of Teddy's mother, Tonks.
It—it made something swell in his chest, making it hard to swallow.
Suddenly very sentimental, Harry brushed a hand through Teddy's ever-changing hair, and hugged him, nuzzling his chin against the top of Teddy's head. A bit sad, and a bit grateful. "I missed you, Teddy," Harry sighed. "I'm sorry I haven't played with you in a while."
Teddy just blinked at him. "Okay," he said, with a cute smile. "S'okay."
"I just wanna shake you and imprint upon you how much I love you," Harry bemoaned. To emphasize his point, he gently shook Teddy by his shoulders, making him giggle wildly. Smiling brightly at his godson, Harry allowed himself to savor the flare of contentedness this moment brought him.
Of course, it all came crashing down when Harry risked a glance at Andromeda, who was staring imperiously at him. He internally winced, and averted his gaze, swallowing guiltily as Teddy was rocking back and forth on his lap, trying to get Harry to shake him again, smiling widely.
Teddy was too young to feel any type of understanding to Harry's recent pitfalls in his health, so he couldn't react justly to him. So, it fell to Andromeda to react for him, and hold him accountable for his actions.
Harry felt so selfish for wanting to let himself die.
What type of a godfather is he?
Sirius had braved Azkaban, escaped Azkaban, for him. Harry could never live up to the legacy his own godfather had left for him. The thought of Sirius stirred even more bitter and stagnant emotions within him, his chest itching in response, mockingly. Even if Teddy didn't understand it now, Harry was determined to make it up to him; he saw himself in Teddy, and couldn't help but silently yearn that it wasn't like that.
Suddenly craving something, Harry sent Teddy an impish smile. "Do you want some chocolate, Teddy? Chocolate cures everything," Teddy's eyes widened at the mention. He nodded, chewing on his thumb. Andromeda made a noise, prompting the two boys to glance at her.
"No chocolate before dinner," Andromeda rolled her eyes, her lips quirking slightly. Teddy blinked, before looking momentarily distraught.
"If we wait until after dinner, then it be too chocoLATE," Harry protested, causing Andromeda to stare at him, aghast. He flashed her an indulgent smirk, before returning his attention to Teddy, who appeared confused and slightly hopeful. "Remember, Teddy, there are two people in the world: people who love chocolate, and liars."
"Right, right," Teddy grinned, excited. "Chocolate!"
Andromeda seemed to recover from Harry's rather bad pun. "If his appetite is ruined, I'm blaming you," she warned, with a slight sigh. She put aside one of her novels, even the Wizarding World had its own type of dime novels; it was a secret pleasure for Andromeda, Harry figured. Hey, he wasn't judging. He liked to lay in bed and stare up at the ceiling for hours on end.
Even before his two curses rendered him practically incapable of walking.
Harry briefly wanted to ride his flying broom again, too feel the bite of the wind on his skin, ruffling his hair. The feeling of lightness and adrenaline was something Harry wanted to feel again, there was always something carefree about flying through the air, dangling above the ground by mere sticking charms. He couldn't remember the last time he flew.
It's been too long.
"I'll take full responsibility," Harry gave Andromeda a mock-salute. "I swear on my pillows."
"…Pillows?" Andromeda raised an eyebrow, smiling slightly.
"Don't knock my pillows, they're soft and nice, and accept me for who I am," Harry sniffed. Teddy giggled at Harry's dramatics, making him smile. "I would gladly give up one to you if you doubt me," Andromeda let out a bemused chuckle.
"Now, now, no need to get so hasty," she decided. "I wouldn't want you to sacrifice something so important to you. I just don't want Teddy's appetite to be ruined."
"…Chocolate helps digestion?"
"Anything to back up that claim?"
"Personal belief…?"
Andromeda rolled her eyes. "Hurry up before I change my mind," she declared. Harry nodded, snapping his fingers in hopes of calling Kreacher to them. Teddy clumsily mimicked the motion, which caused Harry to wink at him.
"Kreacher!" Harry called, waiting patiently. With a slight 'pop', Kreacher stood in the room. He glared balefully at Andromeda, wiping at his leaking eyes, sniffing loudly. "Sorry for bothering you, Kreacher, but can you get me some chocolate?"
Kreacher made a face. "Fine," he said, sullenly.
"Elf!" Teddy babbled, after Kreacher apparated back out of the room. "Like, like, Olly!"
"Olly is actually likeable," Andromeda muttered. She sighed, and sent Harry a rather tight-lipped smile. "Kreacher never changed," she shook her head, making Harry shrug mildly at him. Kreacher was easy to get used to, and in some ways, Harry felt pity for the grouchy house-elf.
After Kreacher had returned and left sourly, Teddy and Harry munched on chocolate. Andromeda was staring at Harry, eyes narrowed contemplatively, her fingers tapping out a rhythm on the armrest of her chair. Harry pointedly ignored her intense gaze, focused on Teddy; he chewed loudly, nodding when Teddy fed him. Teddy was grinning, taking a bite out of the chocolate before offering Harry the rest.
It was a bit unhygienic, but Harry was currently dying from two curses. So that was moot.
Besides, Harry would willingly die if it was Teddy's cute smile that killed him.
Andromeda and Teddy had been 'invited' to Grimmauld Place to visit Harry just the day after Harry's decisive decision to meet the rest of the Arcobaleno. Invited meaning that Andromeda had invited herself, and Teddy, into the house to check up on him. Shamal had been given proper warning before they got here, and had decided to make himself scarce when he heard there was going to be a kid involved in this visit. He suffered Harry's judging stare with a mindful shrug, packing up the various textbooks and magical texts. "Kids aren't my forte," was all he said before he left.
Children was never one of Harry's strongpoints. It wasn't like he didn't like them, or dislike them; there was just never any chances for him to be around them long enough to form an opinion. Before Teddy, there was never an instance where Harry needed to be around children. To feel better about himself, Harry would like to say that he liked children enough.
Even if it was only Teddy that he had any real experience with.
Near the end of their visit, Teddy was dozing in Harry's arms, it was time. Andromeda flashed him a wan smile. "So," she began, leisurely. "How have you been feeling, lately?"
"…Good? I'm going to say good," Harry sent her a long-suffering look. It fell away at her hard stare, and he sighed. "Look, I know what this is about. I'm sorry, okay? I don't need to be reminded of all my recent wrong-doings, Andromeda," he chewed the inside of his cheek, staring at the fluff of hair Teddy possessed. It was a sleepy blue now, reflecting his drowsy state.
Andromeda stared at him, before relenting. "I don't want to make you uncomfortable, or feel as if I'm cornering you, Harry," she said. Harry risked a small glance at her, inwardly relaxing when face was kind. "I'm just a bit—saddened by the fact that you didn't think you could come to me, or your friends, about your problems in the first place," she sighed, a sudden downward twist to her lips. Regret lined her face, and Harry felt a stab of guilt.
"It's—It's a me problem, I promise," Harry hedged. "So please don't feel bad, Andromeda. I'm getting the help I need now," as futile as it might appear to be. Harry shushed himself, shifting so he could pull Teddy tighter to him, hugging him. Harry was never one for physical contact, always uncomfortable with any type of skin brushes or lingering touches.
But he, surprisingly, liked hugs.
There was something comforting in the fact, something reassuring. The first person to ever hug him was Molly Weasley, something he was uncomfortable with at first but—as the school years went on, it became more welcoming. Hugging was a type of assurance that Harry desperately needed in his school years, especially when Voldemort returned and no one fucking believed him about it.
It was also part of the reason why he liked Ginny so much back then.
And—Harry sunk down lower in his seat, his mouth quirking up in a humorless smile. It must also be partly the reason why they broke up, he thought. At the very least, he was thankful for the fact that Ginny and he were still on good terms, despite how flustered and embarrassed he was around her nowadays.
"I just—" Andromeda cut herself off with a low sigh. "I just want you to know that I'm here for you too." Harry searched her expression, before nodding with a grimace of a smile. "I heard from Ms. Granger that your newest primary healer is—muggle?"
At the mention of Shamal, Harry snorted slightly. "In a sense," he said vaguely. "But Healer Alfie is still there, as well. He's the one who is helping me with one of my curses, and walking me through both magical and regular therapy."
Andromeda raised a slender eyebrow. "You haven't received a qualified mind healer for your therapy?" Harry glanced away, shrugging mindfully. To be honest, it would have been too much work for someone like him to push the papers through, and schedule appointments. Alfie had agreed to be the primary healer for him in all cases, disregarding the Arcobaleno curse; as it turns out, Alfie was the jack-of-all trades type of healer.
Shamal told him something along the lines of him having no life.
"Healer Alfie is qualified enough," Harry defended. "I don't trust anyone else."
It was true, considering his status in the Wizarding World. The littlest amount of people he had to interact with, the less of a chance of him being somehow betrayed. It was a taught line of paranoia, something that even Andromeda had to hum at with an understanding glint in her eyes.
"Hard work for Healer Alfie I'm willing to guess," Andromeda mused.
Guiltily, Harry fidgeted. "He'll have a great recommendation letter from me?" It was almost laughable at how much influence Harry could have, if the press of the Wizarding World was in a good mood or not. Being a public figure was hard, as experienced when the press could turn on the flip of a coin and hate him fiercely if just one thing tipped them off.
So, Harry always did the logical thing, and not give them anything at all.
"I bet he will," Andromeda rolled her eyes, and looked at Teddy. Teddy had passed out somewhere in between their conversation, head lolled back and snoring lightly through his mouth. Harry shifted so his skinny elbow stopped digging into the crook of his arm. "I think it's time for Teddy and me to take our leave. It has been nice seeing you," Andromeda said, sincerely.
Harry escorted her to the fireplace, stubbornly holding onto Teddy on the way there. His bones felt exhausted and aching, a layer of fatigue weighing him down. His stomach was lurching nauseously, and his chest felt stuffed, tight. Despite the chills shuddering underneath his skin, his skin felt clammy and hot. Still, the least Harry could do for his godson was to carry him for a short bit.
Andromeda paused, after Harry shifted Teddy over to her. She looked almost hesitant, before she reached forward, and tugged Harry close to her, Teddy squished somewhat between them. Ah, it was a hug. Something unbearably sentimental lodged itself into Harry's throat, and he swallowed awkwardly around them, reluctantly raising his hands to hug her back.
At last, he pulled away, "Thank you," he said, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.
"I hope you feel better soon," Andromeda told him. She flashed him an indulgent smile, shifting so Teddy could rest his head more comfortably on her shoulder. "I'm always a letter away, Harry. And we're family, we're bound by blood. There isn't anything I wouldn't do for you," a moment's pause, and she frowned. "At least, within reason, of course."
"Ah, darn," Harry chuckled, dryly. His lungs itched. "I was planning on asking you if you were interested in helping me rig the lottery." Andromeda chuckled, a low and husky sound, before shaking her head fondly.
"Take care of yourself, Harry," Andromeda said, exasperated.
Harry staggered back into his seat, after they left. He didn't want to go into another coughing fit, but he knew he had to, at some point, lest he suffocate. Still, it was an uncomfortable experience. Something chipped away at him every time he had to dislodge some flowers from himself, ripping bits of his lungs out with the stems and petals. Not to mention how wrecked he felt afterwards, his chest feeling like it was cracked open; the taste of blood lingered in his tea and meals afterwards, tainting everything in a dingy coppery taste.
He really wished that Alfie would hurry up on that potion.
Andromeda's words rang in his mind, as he slumped into his chair, shivering and miserable. Take care of yourself. The content and cute expression Teddy made, the low and fond chuckle that Andromeda had; Hermione's and Ron's easy-going conversation—they flashed through his mind, and Harry pressed his eyes closed, trying to savor the flare of will that rose inside him.
For their sake, Harry was going to have to.
-0-0-0-
Viola tricolor.
Think of me.
The steady burn of pain was ripping his chest in two, like a piece of paper being aggressively torn apart. A heavy ringing filled his head, the air catching in his throat; he couldn't breathe for a second. Luckily, it passed in a few moments, his sore and damaged throat dragging air to his desperate and beaten lungs. Blood and something earthy lingered in his mouth, the blood clotting grittily in the back of his throat, on his tongue.
His stomach lurched uneasily, and Harry threw the bloodied flowers off to the side. He threw up what little was in his stomach, bent sharply over the waste bin.
Happy to be alone for once, Harry bit a short-lived whimper between his teeth. Frustration and exhaustion piled high, and Harry had to press his eyes closed tight against the feeling of 'bleh' that had overridden him. Patience, Harry told himself as he collapsed back into his bed, curling up to one side. Patience was a virtue, and all that.
But it was increasingly frustrating to go through all the therapy with seemingly no results.
Think of me.
It wasn't like he wasn't trying. Even if he wasn't giving his 100%, he was still trying; that was a lot for him. Contemplatively, he twirled the orange pacifier in between his fingers, staring at it dully. The therapy Alfie was sending him through was focused mainly on regular therapy, not being able to complete the magical one until the potion was finished and could control the growth rate of Harry's lung flowers without having him ripping his lungs out of his body one bloody petal at a time.
Behavioral Cognitive Therapy.
That's the therapy he was going through currently. Alfie had explained it to him as a more of a hands-on and practical approach to deal with the lingering PTSD and major depression he had. It was a short-term, goal-orientated, psychotherapy aimed to help change the thinking and behavioral patterns behind Harry's difficulty in life. It was basically re-teaching Harry how to handle and deal with his emotional problems.
E.g. Harry having two life threatening curses and choosing not to do anything about them. Now, Harry can forgive himself for his lapse in judgement. It wasn't his fault, not fully, but his depression that helped influence his rather closed-off thought process.
Harry felt exhaustion pull him down, leaving the pacifier loosely clasped in his hand; he needed to go from 0 to 100 real quick in terms of mental health, if he even had a chance of beating these two curses. His casual acceptance of death helped him win a war, but it wouldn't help him that much in terms of learning how to live past the war.
Think of me.
Before Harry passed out, he felt some type of will stir inside him, a comforting warmth that pulsed through him; it chased away the chill. The pacifier pulsed with it, and if Harry could focus enough on it, he could almost feel the same type of warmth emit from it, drinking it in greedily.
Huh.
-0-0-0-
The newest Sky Arcobaleno requested they meet somewhere in public.
It was obvious Shamal didn't like this, by the way his enunciated his words, something sullen and disproving lurking underneath his tone. Reborn had smirked dryly at Shamal's petulance, and arranged the time and place. His friend had been grumbling about 'troublesome Skies' and lack of women in his life as he hung up.
Sometimes, people never changed.
Shamal was a good, old, friend of Reborn's; he was the one who helped Reborn erase his old self, and be reborn. So Reborn was momentarily glad that it was Shamal who had found this wayward and newest Sky Arcobaleno, though he had a nagging feel that there was still a lot that Shamal was not telling him.
At the thought of the Sky Arcobaleno, Reborn's thoughts darkened. While he was glad that Luce's beloved daughter, Aria, did not have to share her mother's destiny, he was still suffering through rapid mood swings and self-inflicted thoughts of his old friend, Luce. Luce and him had never had the chance to properly reconcile, due to conflicting time schedules and Reborn still coming to terms with being an Arcobaleno. He had dropped off the radar for a few years, before he returned a changed infant. Shamal and his mosquitoes had helped with that, and even then, it took a few years to properly settle into his own cursed role of Arcobaleno.
Between regaining, and holding, his renowned title of World's Greatest Hitman, to working under Timoteo with the Vongola Familigia, to suffering from dysphoria of being an infant and will probably stay like that for the rest of his life, Reborn had a lot on his plate. That's not even mentioning the fact that he was working towards his doctorates, and masters, in various university subjects (more mathematically inclined), and tutoring pipsqueak Dino.
After Luce's death, however, Reborn managed to open his schedule up for a few weeks.
Enough time to check up on Aria. Enough time to say his goodbyes to Luce; sweet, kind, Luce who looked all too tiny and pale and content. It was hard to see her like that, hard to see her as an infant, a deceased infant; Reborn could barely stand to be in the room where they held her casket open for viewing for immediate Giglio Nero Familigia members for any longer than 5 minutes.
And certainly enough time for Reborn to find the newest Sky Arcobaleno.
While he didn't have high expectations for the newest damned Sky, he did have standards. Being around many powerful Skies high up on the Vongola Alliance did that to someone. Still, this was a possibly civilian Sky. The current strongest Sky in the world—civilian—those two did not mix. If the Sky had been that strong, the strongest, then how did he manage to slip by the underground's radar?
Too many questions.
Hopefully, they'll be answered today.
Skull squawked and tripped forward, landing in a dirty puddle. It ruined the amiable silence that had been constructed earlier that morning by all the Arcobaleno. Reborn eyed the weakest of Arcobaleno, who was sputtering and scrambling upwards, trying to brush off his failure by whistling and averting his gaze. It took all of Reborn's willpower to glance away, especially after catching Skull's timid glance and smirking meanly in his direction.
Still, he didn't say anything. He was too caught up in trying to get to the arranged meeting place, so he forced them all forward. It would have been easier to catch a ride through London to get to the arranged place, no doubt drier, but traffic in London was hell. Even for their tiny infant legs, walking would no doubt be faster, and honestly, Reborn didn't see why the others had complained about the muggy weather and the stubborn drizzle that made the crowded city even more miserable and gloomy.
Then again, they didn't have a shapeshifting animal partner named Leon, who had kindly shapeshifted into an umbrella for Reborn the moment he stepped out of the hotel.
Ozone Coffee Roasters was still a fairly new place in London, but it had good reviews. It was still fairly early, mostly because they only allowed parties with over 8 people to book a spot before 11 AM on the weekdays. It had an open and decent atmosphere, friendly even; unassuming. Reborn eyed every opening and anyone else who was in the café critically, making sure to keep his expression calmly blank. He casually ignored the surprised glances from the other patrons and workers here, looking for something.
Or rather, someone.
While he had long since mastered his emotions, there was an almost nervous tension strung tight in his gut. Disappointingly, he couldn't find the two people he came to meet at first glance; it probably meant that they were further in the back, obscured from view. That would mean that they would have to search for them, or ask for their table underneath the party name. The first would be more acceptable, seeing as of that Reborn hated interacting with civilians, especially in the form he was in now.
A brief flicker of annoyance, and Reborn internally sighed when a timid and curious worker walked up to them, fidgeting with their notepad with a friendly and nervous smile. Here we go, Reborn glanced up at the worker, suddenly very aware of the others lingering behind him. As arguably the strongest, at the forefront of the group, and the cutest, no doubt he'll be the one that they'll direct their questions too.
Oh, the woes of being the world's greatest hitman.
"Excuse me, young man," as expected, the worker bent down slightly to blink curiously at them. "Are you guys lost? Do you know where your guardians are?" Their eyes raked over the rest of the Arcobaleno, and they visibly melted, something soft lining their features. It made something irritable shudder underneath Reborn's skin, unable to stand the patronizing tone the worker was displaying.
"No, we're here for a meeting," Reborn said, staring imperiously up at the worker. The effect was lost on them, but the adoration fell away to confusion. Slightly better.
"Oh," was all the worker said, face scrunched up in open confusion. "That's nice," they said, slowly. "If you guys want to sit down while I make a few calls," they started, and Reborn could practically feel the other's seizing up behind him. Reborn internally laughed at them, focusing on the flare of amusement that their reaction brought him rather than the instinctive blanch the worker's words had on him.
This was a civilian, not another mafioso who knew who they were. It wasn't like Reborn could *show* them that they weren't ordinary infants.
Luckily, someone intervened. "I'm sorry for making you guys wait, I hope it wasn't too terribly inconvenient," the voice belonged to a young adult, probably not even out of his teenage years, who looked incredibly tired. While there were signs of fatigue shown in the slight bruising around the teenager's stunning green eyes, in his tousled dark hair, it was mostly shown in how he carried himself. Something tired was lining his posture, lining his crooked little smile.
Instinctively, Reborn knew this was the newest Sky Arcobaleno.
If it wasn't for the Sky orange pacifier, it was for the young Sky's presence. While not too apparent, there was an air of easy, tired, assurance around the Sky. He was dressed rather nicely, so much so that Reborn had to internally hum in slight appreciation. The fabric and cut of his suit looked fine and expensive, lines fitting the teenager's seemingly exhausted posture, though Reborn couldn't really place the designer. His boots (bold choice to go with a suit that finely made, but somehow, he made it work) looked similarly to the growingly famous Marc Jacobs line, but Reborn -for once- confidently couldn't say that it was that designer brand.
Curious, that.
The Sky's words seemed to hold more than what they first appeared. Sorry for making them wait, huh? Reborn's eyes glinted, as the worker glanced between the young Sky and the rest of the Arcobaleno, both of which were eying each other curiously.
"Do you—know them?" The worker sounded helplessly confused.
The young Sky dragged his eyes towards them. "Indeed, I do, sorry for any confusion," the Sky apologized with a sheepish, still tired, smile. At the worker's still-present confusion, he tilted his head and blinked slowly at them. "Is there something wrong?" If it wasn't for the slightly crooked tilt of his lips, Reborn could have written it off as genuine concern.
Perhaps it was, Reborn didn't know. After all, he still didn't catch the young Sky's name.
The worker flushed. "It's just—they're—"
"They're what?" The young Sky prompted, his crooked smile growing slightly into a small grin. "If you got something on your mind, say it," he continued, almost leisurely. Reborn could almost snort at the young Sky's actions, linking this behavior to Shamal's recent complaints of 'troublesome Skies'.
"I-," the worker cut themselves off, and breathed deeply through their nose. They sent a strained grin at the Arcobaleno, and the young Sky. "I got to get back to work, enjoy your stay here, please," they sounded faint, before they turned on heel and walked away, back towards their coworkers with an almost dazed air.
A moment's silence, as the young Sky blew out a slightly disappointed sigh and turned back towards the Arcobaleno. He eyed them, amiable yet tired expression still in place. "I got a table further in the back," was all he said, hesitantly turning to presumably lead them to said table. "We can talk more openly there."
Reborn smirked, and followed. "Lead the way," he said. He shot a discreet glance at the rest, noting Viper's sudden stillness and almost choked, inaudible, noises. He raised an eyebrow, and glanced at Fon, who smiled back calmly, shrugging slightly. I don't know, it conveyed. Curious and curious, Reborn couldn't help but think.
Shamal was reading The Times, drinking a long macchiato. An empty lunch plate was sat unattended in front of him, the spot next to him obviously being taken by the young Sky. "Sorry for ordering ahead," the young Sky apologized, sliding into the seat next to Shamal. His hands trembled slightly, so slight that if Reborn wasn't Reborn, he wouldn't have noticed it, as he grasped his own drink, taking a long swig and slumping in his seat. "Please, take a seat."
"Finish eating," Shamal ordered, curtly. He folded the newspaper and put it away. "They're here now, so no more using them as an excuse to put off eating." Harry's amiable expression faltered, and he sent a dry look towards the young mafia doctor. Ah, Reborn smirked.
"Good morning, Shamal," Reborn greeted, causing Shamal to glance at him. "It's been a long time."
"It has," Shamal agreed with a slight tilt of his head. The young Sky was glancing between them, absently chewing on his own meal. It appeared to be some type of seeded bread, with an even spread of some type of jam; Reborn was vividly reminded of his own hunger. "Here, I'll fetch a waitress for you guys; please, make yourself comfortable. And Harry," he sent a bland look towards the young Sky, who looked innocently back. "Please, please for the love of God, behave yourself."
The young Sky, Harry, finished his bite. Wiping at his mouth, he said, "Keep doubting me, Shamal, and my espresso will become depresso real quick." He said this seriously, and Shamal dragged a tired hand down his face. At this, Harry flashed him an indulgent smirk, even as the lackey snorted quietly behind Reborn.
"You're so lame," Shamal seethed, before shaking his head. "I'm off," he said before he disappeared towards the front of the restaurant, grumbling.
Harry watched him, before sighing and turning towards the still standing Arcobaleno. "I don't even like puns," he confided, with his wan smile. It was a far-cry from the shit-eating and indulgent smirk a few moment's prior. "You guys can sit, you know? I'm not going to bite."
"I think introductions are in order," Reborn reminded him, cautiously gauging him now that they were alone. Deciding to start with himself, Reborn tipped his head forward in a polite nod. "My name is Reborn."
"Oh, right." Harry muttered. He fidgeted with his napkin, sending them another curious glance before glancing away. He sighed, "My name is Harry Black." With a slight glance around, Harry seemed to reassure himself that they were in a secluded part of the restaurant. Not to mention that Shamal's lingering Mist Flames helped deter any nosy people. "I guess I'm the newest Sky Arcobaleno?"
At the mention of that, Reborn felt the air turn a bit tenser. Harry seemed to notice, and he huffed, more or less to himself, his wan smile becoming slighter. He scratched absently at his chest, jostling the glowing orange pacifier that hung over his pressed and finely cut suit.
"It seems you are," Fon miraculously stepped forward, calm smile still in place. Lichi chittered curiously, prompting him to scratch at its ears soothingly. "My name is Fon, I'm the Storm Arcobaleno. Reborn here is the Sun Arcobaleno," he covered for Reborn easily.
Reborn inwardly huffed at that. "And the world's greatest hitman," he added, just to add it. Harry, disappointingly, didn't seem all too surprised at the confession; he nodded along, politely eager.
"Show off, kora!" Colonnello snapped at him, puffing himself up and stepping forward. He tried to appear taller than Reborn, making him twitch slightly. "My name is Colonnello, and this is—" Lal snarled wordlessly, drop-kicking the other Rain into submission.
"Don't speak for me, stupid student," Lal huffed, turning towards a blinking Harry. "My name is Lal Mirch, the idiot that just spoke there is the Rain Arcobaleno." Lal stared imperiously at Harry, eying him, almost daring him to mention her stone pacifier. Harry didn't mention it, smiling wanly at her with a slight incline of his head.
"Nice to meet you," Harry murmured.
"Verde. Scientist." Verde looked indifferent as always, appearing almost bored. Harry chanced a slight wave at him, eying him curiously.
"Like your glasses," Harry finally said, cheerfully. "I used to wear a similar pair, but then I fixed my eyesight," he nodded, prompting Verde to become sharply curious. As did Reborn, even though he didn't like doing anything remotely common with the Lightning Arcobaleno. Fixing your eyesight in this day and age, without presumably mafia influence? While there had been an uprising of LASIK in recent years in the civilian world, it was highly expensive, even for someone who was dressed in a fine-cut suit like Harry's. Not to mention that Harry would have to have been of legal age to approve of such a risky, albeit growing popular, procedure, and he didn't even look like he was barely 18.
That was a miracle wrapped up in luck.
Before Verde could step forward and interrogate the young and clueless Sky, who didn't know the plague of a curious Verde, the lackey interrupted, loudly and with the expected annoying flair that Reborn guessed would happen. "I'M THE GREAT SKULL-SAMA! Remember it, for they shall inscribe it throughout all the countries in their legendary myths!" Skull stepped forward, hands on hips, and Reborn felt annoyance flicker in him. Being confident doesn't mean being louder.
Harry looked momentarily bemused, a flicker of something sardonic twisting his lips, before he smoothed his expression over. It was politely amused now. "I'll be sure to remember it, Skull-sama," Harry replied, stumbling slightly over the honorific tacked shamelessly onto Skull's name.
Skull appeared momentarily stunned, before he literally swelled with giddiness.
Oh, Lord. Save them now.
"How about you, Viper?" Fon calmly steered the conversation away from the landmine, turning towards the Mist with an amiable smile. Viper's mouth, which was hanging open, clamped shut and they sent a cold look towards the Storm. They seemed to be trembling, small hands clenching and unclenching at their side. "Would you like to introduce yourself?" Fon prompted, gently.
This was weird, Reborn noted with a dark glint in his eyes. He hummed, curiously, watching the, for once, speechless Mist fumble for words. Harry was smiling politely at the Mist, waiting, though there seemed to be a bemused tilt to his head. Almost reflexively, he smoothed down his fringe over his forehead, though if he was looking to tame his unruly hair, that was probably a lost cause.
"Harry—" Viper finally ground out, stepping a few steps forward. They seemed almost reverent, causing Harry to perk up, expression tensing. "Harry Potter," Viper commended, lowly. "You're Harry Potter," they repeated, almost in awe. They sounded like they were desperately trying to control themselves, but not quite succeeding all the way. Reborn cocked an eyebrow, confused and not really liking the feeling all that much. "I'm—so honored," the Mist murmured.
Harry seemed to have lied about his last name, which instantly raised Reborn's suspicions. Though, it appeared the reason was staring them in the face with how terribly defeated and resigned Harry suddenly became, hunching very slightly into himself. Harry Potter was probably not a name he wanted to associate himself with, Reborn concluded. Still, Reborn didn't know anything notable concerning the name, didn't know the teenager before today, and this only added onto the growing pile of questions he had for the young Sky.
And by his favorite espresso, he's going to get some answers.
Downing the rest of his drink, Harry wiped at his mouth and stared tiredly at them, at Viper, with a defeated wan smile. With an exhausted sigh, he pinched the bridge of his nose, rubbing it aggressively. "We-," Harry finally said, expression falling away to a more serious one. No crooked, polite, tired, smiles; an eerily blank expression with a slight stubborn frown dragging at his lips was left in its place. "We have a lot to talk about, it seems."
Understatement of the year.
Review, favorite, follow, or whatever you do on stories that you read!
I can't help but think of the meme "I'm sorry, but the old Taylor can't come to the phone right now. Why? Oh, because she's dead" with Reborn's erasing his past self, lolololol.
Shamal's progress with Harry's health will be explained in story, to the rest of the Arcobaleno!
I'm going to go drown in caffeinated chocolate, see ya', peeps!
-mms