A Red Flower
Your lips betray the secret of your soul,
The dark delicious essence that is you,
A mystery of life, the flaming goal
I seek through mazy pathways strange and new.
-Claude McKay
X X X X
"Mr. Stark, I don't feel so good," she murmured, fingers hovering over the terrible metal impaling her. What if she pulled it out right now? Just to get rid of this feeling inside of her, like she was both empty and terrifyingly full at once.
"What?" Xanxus asked. Of course he didn't get the reference.
"I'd say this is a bit of s tricky situation," she said, waving him off. At the very least, it wouldn't be that hard to remove. It was very sleek and smooth and absent of possible resistance. Her first time using the pull out method and she was still a virgin! (That was a joke, kids. Use proper birth control.) "What...what do you think we should do?"
"You got a phone on you? We could call an ambulance, I guess," he said. "Though, that's not a great option for multiple reasons, considering all the organized crime and property damage." Xanxus seemed very nonchalant about all of this, but she was at least grateful that he wasn't gleeful about her possible demise. If this had happened before the fight, he probably would have finished her off himself.
"I don't have my phone anyway. I left it in the stands so it wouldn't get damaged." Despite herself, she was slightly upset that her phone was probably destroyed during the attack. That was lame as hell. "And it's not like there's a trained sun or medical professional around here either," she said, looking around at the dank, empty room. What was this even used for, anyway?
Xanxus nodded, pulling a full cigar out of his pocket and lighting it with his strange flames. Now that he wasn't trying to kill her, she noticed their odd coloring. Wasn't he a sky, like her? Xanxus must have misread her perplexed look, because he offered her a smoke.
"No, thanks," she said, and he shrugged. "Why are your flames like that?" she asked.
"Like what, trash?" He bristled. "Oh, you mean how they're not pure sky flames?" She nodded, curious despite herself. At least in her dying moments, she'd get to learn something interesting. Better than nothing, she supposed. "Well, you know that sky flames have the characteristic of harmony, right? So you can blend different types of flames with them to produce an entirely new type of flame. My flames, The Flames of Wrath, are a combination of sky and storm."
"So, like, you're just mixing the two types of flames you have?" she asked.
He nodded. "Some people hypothesize that everyone has small parts of all the flame types inside of them. Really, the type of person you are is the only reason that one flame is more prominent in a you than the others. My most prominent flames are sky and storm, but I could have others hidden away somewhere just as easily."
"So, if we're going off of that, I definitely have sun flames, then," she said. His eyes flickered away from his cigar smoke to look at her warily, but he still nodded. "Sooooo, I might as well try to summon some and heal myself, right?"
"Knock yourself out, kid. But remember some things before you try this shit out. First of all, there's no guarantee you're a sun at all, it's just theory. Second, even if you managed to activate some, it takes years of training to heal without doing more damage. Sun flames have the property of activation; they basically stimulate cell division. So if you overdo it-"
"You form tumors," she sighed. It had been a couple minutes since she'd been first injured. She was lucky that the wound bled so sluggishly, but already she was starting to feel the effects of blood loss. Either way, if she did it and screwed it up or if she just left it alone, she didn't have much time left. In the distance, she could still hear the battle raging. No one was coming to help her this time.
"Don't interrupt me, trash," Xanxus growled. "But anyway, it's your choice. To die slowly and live longer or kill yourself more quickly trying to heal." He leaned against the wall and crossed his ankles. Another puff of smoke floated past his lips.
"It's not like I'm gonna do much," she said, weighing the risks and benefits in her head. "I'll just stop the bleeding. And, like, aren't Dying Will Flames supposed to really work in a time like this? I mean, I'm literally dying. I'll never get a better opportunity to do this! Yep, I'm doing it," she decided, looking at Xanxus. His eyebrows were raised in her direction and he seemed slightly annoyed. "I'm gonna need your help to get this thing out of me. What team?"
Xanxus was silent.
"Wildcats!" she whispered.
X X X X
Reborn was kind of busy shooting Vindice guards in their treacherous faces, but he still made time to worry about his dame student. Where was she? Was she dead? Did she need his help? The last one was a stupid question, because she always needed his help. Looking around, he knew there was no chance that anyone could leave the battlefield and come to her aid. There was too much chaos and their opponents were too strong.
Thinking back to more than a decade ago, Reborn remembered how the Vindice were defeated last time. Before any of the Tenth Generation was born, when he was still cursed in a child's body and fate was still in the hands of one man. The only man he knew could end this in time for him to even have a chance of rescuing Tsuna.
"Checkerface," he muttered under his breath, damning himself with a name. "If you can hear me right now, then come. We need...we need your help."
In a swirl of shadow and light and time and death, a man with silver hair appeared and everything froze.
X X X X
"Alright, alright, alright. On the count of three, I'm gonna need you to do the deed," She said, her back to him. She could feel his hand on her shoulder, callouses rough against her smooth skin. It really was large. She felt like nothing when he was so near her. His other hand rested on one side of the steel beam, at the ready for any moment. "One, two, three-"
An agonized scream interrupted the trilling of afternoon birds.
X X X X
"Oh? What do we have here?" Checkerface asked, surveying the damaged landscape and the combatants stilled in the middle of their fighting. It was truly a mess. The undead army of Vindice guards against the Vongola Tenth generation, the last generation of Arcobaleno ever, and the Cavallone. Reborn hadn't known that there were this many Vindice rotting in the prison, but they all looked the same anyway so who was he to say?
"Could it be that the Vindice got a little antsy in their assigned roles?" Checkerface continued. "When we came to that agreement so long ago, I thought we were all happy. Or did you want me to step in again? Got a little anxious without dear old Daddy running the show, did you?"
'If Tsuna were here,' Reborn thought 'that Daddy thing would not be unremarked upon. After she'd stopped laughing, she'd-' Reborn shook his head slightly to regain focus on the situation at hand.
"You bastard!" someone hissed. Of course, Reborn knew it was no accident that they were allowed to speak when no one else could. Checkerface must have some sort of speech planned out.
"Me? A bastard?" Checkerface said incredulously. "Ah, ah, ah! If you all would just do your jobs, I wouldn't have to be here right now. Of course, if things go well and you respond correctly, all we'll have to do is talk and everyone can resume their daily tasks that we agreed upon. If things get out of hand, however...Well, I can see plenty of promising Arcobaleno candidates in attendance. A shame that I'll have to go looking for that delightful Sawada Tsunami, though."
Reborn's heart clenched. The Tenth Gen guardians, previously confused into silence and stillness, also reacted rather badly. Some were very subtle, but of course Gokudera's entire face twisted into a snarl and Ryohei made to shout something. For a moment, he was grateful that under Checkerface's spell, no one could talk without his permission. In that silence, a scream rang through the air.
"That was her just now, wasn't it?" Checkerface said. "Hmm, I do hope she'll be alive to take the position. Of course, I'm sure we can find a replacement if pressed." Reborn tilted his head forward a bit and was glad that he was allowed to do so. If anyone saw the wet sheen coating his eyes, he'd never be respected again.
"Did I upset you?" he asked, looking at those struggling against their invisible bonds. Ryohei even had extreme tears running down his face. Reborn was sure that Mukuro was attempting illusions and failing, based on the glowing demon eye visible underneath his bangs. Most Vindice guards appeared subtly upset as well. Not specifically because of Tsunami, of course, but at the prospect of power returning to Checkerface's hands.
Of course the Vindice had still resented their lot in life when the agreement was worked out, but it was a minor grievance compared to what they'd gain. Over the years, Reborn guessed that the bitter nature of their undead, warped flames had caused that resentment to grow dangerous. Even so, he didn't think that was all to the story. What was the point of this? What did they have to gain besides killing the former Arcobaleno, people who had nothing to do with them besides escaping a curse years ago that they never could.
Reborn wondered who was behind this plan, because he doubted it was the usually level-headed Bermuda. There was a reason the Vindice handled the mafia justice system, and inability to think things through was not it.
"While we're on the topic of, well, you. What exactly was the plan here, my dear children? Force the Vongola to gather the Arcobaleno at the final battle, disguised as the encouragement of impartial judges. I admit that part was rather solid, though a bit ambitious. If I were you, I would have probably organized some sort of secret note and a tournament...Anyway, what was the next step? Just kill them, I guess?
"Did your resentment of me transfer to these poor folks in my absence? Did your rotting brains demand recompense in the form of their deaths? You're supposed to be a neutral party, to uphold the laws of the mafia world. Did your disgusting flames fill your thoughts so maliciously? Really, I wonder why you would jeopardize this system we worked so hard to come up with. Do you have anything to say for yourself, Bermuda?"
Bermuda seemed uncertain and confused. His eyes had clouded over worryingly. "When it's all laid out like this, I suppose…" he murmured. "I'm not sure-"
"Well? That's your reasoning? You don't know? It seems like a very drastic measure to take for no reason. Very drastic, indeed," Checkerface mocked. "It almost seems as though there might be some sort of other influence to blame." He winked at Reborn like they were sharing a secret. Only, Reborn wasn't sure exactly who the mastermind behind the scheme was.
"I'll tell you what, Bermuda," he sighed. "I'll let you off the hook this time if you return to Vindicare without any further incident and continue with your work. We'll forget about all of this. There were higher powers at work, I suppose." In Reborn's eyes, Checkerface was laying it on a bit thick with all these hints.
Bermuda nodded, there were no objections, and Checkerface smirked. He dipped so his face was cast in shadow and suddenly it was as if time had reset itself. The school no longer looked like a battlefield and all the damage was reversed. Of course, people still had bruises from their fights but it didn't seem like anyone was fatally injured. Notably, Checkerface and the Vindice guards were absent.
As was Tsuna...and Xanxus, Reborn guessed.
"Tsuna-chan?" Takeshi called. There was no answer.
X X X X
In the seconds before the steel was pulled out, Tsuna tried to focus on only one person: Reborn. There was no time to anticipate future pain when she was so busy trying to remember exactly what he felt like when he congratulated her on a job well done, or told her he was proud of her, or even comforted her when she made a mistake. How did he feel when he yelled at her, or forced her into marathons that she didn't want to compete in? What was the signature of his heart, his mind, his soul? What was it like to be the sun in a great blue sky?
When she finally spoke those three words, when she reached the end of the countdown, she closed her eyes and tried to change her soul into a star.
And suddenly there was a gaping hole in her body. The shock was gone and she could feel every broken blood vessel, every exposed vein, the bloody meat of her body against air that suddenly felt so cold. It was like there were a million straws inside her body, spilling blood on to the floor so that it splashed against cool pavement in a dusty room. She was sweating. She was crying. She opened her mouth and blood and saliva left her in a great upheaval that had her sobbing. She was desperate. She was afraid. She was going to die.
'Reborn,' she thought, and felt a little warmth inside of her return. 'Reborn, Reborn, Reborn, REBORN!' His aura flashed in her mind so many times that it was almost like he was there. There was the heat of a star around her. Was it really him? She opened her eyes but could only see yellow flames. No, Reborn had not come in person, but he had definitely just saved her life. She grinned, bringing her hand ever so slowly to the wound and released the smallest amount of power she could. It was almost like activating her mittens.
And then it stopped. Everything. The flames, the blood, the sheer desperation. All she had was her tears and her victory and all she was was a girl in an abandoned room.
She wasn't completely healed. She didn't really have the anatomical knowledge for that. She'd lost a lot of blood and she was sure there were some misplaced fluids inside of her. If felt like she had either broken, cracked, or bruised some ribs. But...she wasn't going to die!
"Fucking ow," she said, hacking up the thick blood still lodged in her throat. It's splattered on the floor and her mouth tasted like copper and regret. She was glad that no one ever came into this building because they would definitely think a murder had taken place. She touched her stomach with the gentlest hand she could. "Holy fuck! Ow!" This mafia business sucked ass, but at least she would look hella hard with the stupid fucking scars she got.
"Wow, trash, Didn't think that was gonna work," Xanxus said, slow clapping. She had kinda forgotten he was there for a sec. "Well, I'm gonna go beat some motherfuckers back to their hole in the ground now that you're done with," he gestured vaguely to the puddle of her blood "that, so. Don't wait up, I guess." And then he began to walk away.
"Xanxus! What the fuck wait!" she called after him, stumbling to her feet and feeling more blood dribble out of her mouth, which probably wasn't the best sign ever but who cares. "Take me with you, please! I promise I won't need much help but I also don't want to just fall down and die somewhere and I think we kinda bonded since you pulled a giant metal pole out of me and all-"
"Shut up, trash," Xanxus said. He walked up to her, stopping not even a foot away. His tall form and the broadness of his shoulders consumed her small silhouette. He leaned down so his face almost touched hers, his crimson eyes narrowed. Daringly, she stared back, covered in her own blood and saliva and tears.
Xanxus' face was naturally scary, but the scarring and the animalistic feathers only intensified the vibe. But now, after the battle and him actually helping her, she could see the humanity behind his harsh exterior. Although he probably wouldn't have been upset if she died, he also seemed fine with her living.
Looking at his rough features, she wondered what it would be like to kiss the man before her. How different would it be from kissing Ryohei or Takeshi or Hibari. He would have experience, she could see it in his crimson gaze. What is the difference, she wondered, between a boy and a man's caress? Her gaze almost darted to his lips before she corrected herself. She had almost just died and this man had no interest in her. It was just the sexual renaissance, she told herself, and then cringed internally at her usage of Reborn's stupid phrase.
"You really think I'd help someone as pitiful and weak as you?" Xanxus scoffed after a pause. "In the Varia, we have a rule: only the strong survive. If I weren't here, you'd be dead."
He moved even closer and Tsuna flinched, closing her eyes to a blow that never came. She opened her eyes to find herself in the air, capable arms carrying her like a bride. She blinked for a moment at the feeling of being surrounded by his strength, looking up at him in confusion.
"Consider this payment for earlier," he said. Tsuna struggled to remember what he could mean. They fought for the ring, of course, and she won but his mist stole it and then he put it on and it rejected him. So she took it off...Was that what he was thinking of? Her interference in the rejection? It was true that he would have died from the purge of blood if she hadn't removed it, but she assumed he was unconscious at the time. "As for strong...I'll consider those sun flames a show of strength for now, kid."
Laying her head on his warm chest, she felt content as they started the long trek to their comrades.
X X X X
After it was established that Xanxus and Tsuna couldn't be found, the entire scene erupted into chaos. There was much so much disruption among the crowd that no one even noticed when a figure approached on the horizon, cradling a much smaller being. As they approached, the smaller's hand clenched around the fabric of the figure's chest, eliciting a 'Don't wrinkle my shirt, trash!'
"Oh, like this shirt's even wearable anymore," Tsuna snarked, gesturing to the blood stains, dust, and tears that littered it. Then, she returned her hand to its previous position with no opposition. Xanxus huffed and looked forward.
"I should just drop you," he said, loosening his grip.
"Wait, wait, wait! I take it back I swear! Damaged shirts are all the rage, now! They're like the new ripped jeans! Please don't drop meeee!" she whined. Xanxus didn't respond but tightened his grip again. She could swear she could hear him huff out a laugh, though that might just be the lung damage from all those cigars.
Reaching the edge of what used to be the arena, Tsuna waved her arm and shouted out a "He-ey!" No one heard her. Discouraged, she pouted up at Xanxus, who sighed.
"HEY, TRASH!" he yelled, voice booming over even the most distraught crowd members. Tsuna wouldn't be surprised if her mom could hear him from her house. The chaos abruptly halted.
For some reason, a lot of her friends were staring at her in disbelief. Now, Tsuna was aware that she looked pretty bad. You know, she was covered in blood and her clothes were ripped and she was also being carried by someone who was, quite recently, her enemy. But still, she didn't think she deserved all these looks.
"What did we miss?" she asked, cheerfully, a rivulet of fresh blood running down the corner of her mouth.
X X X X
"Dame-Tsuna, let it be known that you are a true idiot," Reborn growled. He paced the length of the hospital room unceasingly. Tsuna was becoming very tired of hospital rooms. Maybe she should plan ahead and bring some decor next time? "Do you know how dangerous what you did was? The possible side effects are-"
"I'm gonna stop you right there, chief," she interrupted. "Listen to this, my guy. I would have been literally dead if I hadn't pulled that witchcraft garbage. It was cool. It was fresh. I am not dead and that's great. Let it be known that I'm the coolest guy in Funk Town, will you? Sincerely, pass it on." Tsuna may be very drugged at the moment.
"Yes, I'm glad you're not dead," Reborn sighed, ignoring the rest of her statement rudely. "But, you really scared us."
"Yeah, it was pretty scary," she said. She remembered the feeling of emptiness, the rush of blood out of her body and onto the floor, how her body had simply failed because of some roof support. At the time, she couldn't really think about it. How her one action would dictate whether she lived or died. Now, in the dark whenever she closed her eyes, she could almost see the metal rod sticking out of her still. Yes, Reborn, it was pretty scary.
"Try to get some sleep, Tsuna," Reborn said quietly. His hand gently brushed her forehead before he flicked off the light. "Your friends will probably be in as soon as they're allowed, and you're gonna need some rest for that." She cracked a weak smile at his joke, despite knowing he couldn't see it in the dark. The door clicked closed behind him, leaving Tsuna alone in her bed, staring at the spot where he'd last been.
It was times like these where she still felt like Dame-Tsuna. She couldn't do anything to help her friends against an unknown threat because she was too busy almost being killed by an inanimate object. What kind of leader was she? She was alone in this hospital room and still as useless as she'd ever been. From the bleak hallway light, she could only just make out the outline of her own hands, clasped together on her lap. She closed eyes and clenched them tighter, hating how ineffective they were. The only-
"Hey, Brat. You awake?" a voice echoed from her side. She jumped, startled and almost fell from the hospital bed. Thankfully, a strong arm grabbed the collar of her shirt before she could. Looking up, she could only just make out Xanxus' disheveled form. Setting her on the bed and patting her head to make sure she stayed, he eased into the chair at the side.
"Dude, what the hell?" she asked. "Why are you- no, how did you even get in here?"
"Trash, our rooms have a connecting door. I just picked the lock," he said like it was obvious, holding up some sort of metal tool. Tsuna hadn't even known he was in the hospital. "I don't even know why I'm here. Who the fuck holds someone overnight for blood loss? He said, flicking on a lamp. "Anyway, sorry to interrupt your little brooding session but I'm bored as hell. Why couldn't have Levi left a book?"
"I don't think you're supposed to be reading with a concussion as bad as yours. Though, what can I say? I pack a mean punch," she deadpanned, holding up her fists like a boxer. "I call this one, uhhhhh, Mad Max: Thunderdome and this one Toy Story 3!"
"Did you make those up on the spot? If not, you're really terrible at naming things."
"Dude, what? No way! Those are very significant to my character, obviously," she denied. "You know, like two men enter, one man leave. That type of shit just really describes me as a human. And, of course, whatever happens in Toy Story 3. It's, umm, really sad and I think there's a fire or something? Just really speaks to my soul, you feel me?"
"No, and if I had my guns right now I would totally shoot you," Xanxus said, palming his forehead in exasperation.
"Listen, man, you came here of your own free will. And I don't have any cards to play so I have to entertain you with words." He narrowed his eyes at her. "Speaking of words, how the hell do I work this ring?" she asked, grabbing the Vongola ring from her nightstand.
"How is that related to words?" he asked.
"Well, obviously I used words to ask you about it. Like, damn, bitch," she said under her breath. At his glare, she held up her hands and tried to look innocent. She had never been very good at whispering.
"Listen, I've never used a stupid conduit before to activate my flames and this stupid ring isn't responding to anything I do and I tried like 20 times. What the hell is the deal?" she asked, turning the ring around in her fingers.
"For most people, it's actually easier to summon their flames through some sort of conduit. Think of the Dying Will Bullet or even your lame gloves. The ring is a little more complex because you need to put most of the power you're gathering into it, instead of just enough to activate it. The ring is used to amplify your powers, not be amplified by them. Channeling flames into your gloves should be pretty similar, just think about it like that. What have you tried so far?"
"Umm, first of all, they're not gloves, they're mittens and they're totally cool," she corrected. "And I've mostly been putting the ring near my flames. I've tried talking to it, which was really embarrassing. Uhhh, I took a nap with it. That definitely didn't work. I cried on it, of course. I put it on and tried offering it my blood, but it didn't respond at all. This ring is way wack."
"I don't know what that fucking means. But anyway, for someone so gifted at control and intuitive use of flames, you're stupid as hell," he said.
"You think I'm good with flames?" She framed her face with her hands and preened.
"Hasn't your trash tutor ever told you that? Yeah, you're above average in the flame department," he growled impatiently. "I thought that was obvious when you did the impossible and healed your guts."
"Above average?" she squealed, lost in happiness.
"Wow, your self-esteem must be terrible, trash. Hey, hey, stop making that terrible noise! Oh my god," he said as she continued to celebrate. "You know, I kinda feel bad for you. You're not so terrible after all."
"You really know how to make a girl blush, Xanxus-san," Tsuna deadpanned, back from whatever fantasy she was previously entangled in. "And of course I have terrible self-esteem! I'm a teenage girl who was, until the very recent past, the victim of extreme bullying!" she exclaimed. "Asshole," she breathed under her breath.
"Well, if I'm an asshole, maybe I'll just leave" Xanxus said, standing from his seat.
"Wait! Don't go yet! What if this ring thing doesn't work?" she cried.
"No, it's too late, trash. I'm already gone." He turned partially from her and lifted his foot to take the first step. "Except, maybe if you…" he muttered under his breath.
"What? What can I do?" she pleaded, hands clenched in her sheets.
"I know you've got some books in here. Give me one and I'll stay and help you," he said, arms crossed.
"But they're my books! And you're not supposed to be read-"
"Alright, alright," he said. He held up his hands and turned to the door. "I guess I'll just leave and take all my knowledge about flames with me. You'll just have to wait for Reborn to teach you at his own pace…"
"That will take years! We're still on making my mile time quicker…" she said. "Fine, I'll give you one book." She opened a drawer on the nightstand and rummaged through it for a moment. "Aha!" she said when she found the perfect selection, handing it to him.
"Pride and Prejudice?" he asked. "How did you know this is my favorite book?" he said, lips curled in glee.
"B-but I thought-" she stuttered, only to be interrupted.
"Oh? Did you think old hypermasculine Xanxus couldn't appreciate the writings of Jane Austen? Awfully prejudiced of you, wouldn't you say?" She couldn't think of a way to respond.
When she was a little girl and Nana's mother was still alive, she had told her that she should marry a man that loved Jane Austen. Tsuna actually got her love of old literature from her grandmother, and she thought it was so romantic that Grandma had known that Grandpa was the one because she discovered that he adored Mansfield Park. In her heart, she had always thought that her true love would love Pride and Prejudice as much as her. Obviously, this didn't mean anything. Xanxus was much too old and mean for her and liking a classic romance novel wasn't the basis of soulmates, was it?
"I guess you're right," she said clearly, shaking her head to banish those silly thoughts. "Anyway, let's do this ring garbage." She slipped the ring on and channeled her flames into it, imagining it as her gloves. The mechanics were slightly different, but now that she knew what to do it came fairly easily. Perhaps because of her supposed natural talent?
When she opened her eyes, however, she wasn't in the hospital room.
A meadow with an unchanging horizon stretched on all sides of her. There was nothing around for miles except long grass, wild flowers, and a clear blue sky. Looking to her right, she was relieved that she wasn't alone. Her hand was clasped with Xanxus, though she remembered him being at least a couple feet away from her in the real world. For whatever reason, they were both dressed in white.
"Where the hell are we?" Xanxus asked, reaching to palm a pistol that wasn't there.
"Tsunami, how nice of you to join me. And it seems you brought a friend along as well!" came a voice from behind. She turned to see tea and finger sandwiches arranged on a small table with a few chairs. In one, there sat a male version of herself.
"What."
"Hello, dear one. I'm so glad we can finally meet," he stood pulling out a chair for her to sit in. In a daze, she did so obediently. "I'm the Vongola Primo, but you can call me Giotto. I'm so pleased to see you."
A/N: Hi welcome back to I'm Bad at Writing. This took a while, mostly because I like to sleep and I'm also an asshole. Anyway, who knows what's going on? Not me! Love you guys, see you soon. Have a great day and life! Follow, Favorite, and Review if you want to. I know most people don't read my author notes anyway but I sure do have fun typing them!
Thank you to everyone who followed, favorited, and reviewed. I would kiss you all but alas we are separated by screens. And it would be unsanitary.
Special thanks to lovelydragonfly and lucky4love101 for reviewing since last chapter! ( ˘ ³˘)
Love you all and see you next time!