A/N: Welcome to my fanfic!

This story is how I envision the First Generation Vongola's reign. You may regard this fic as a prequel to the main series, because I will cover manga storyline events as I get to them.

Anything with an asterisk* will be addressed at the end of the chapter.

Disclaimer: KHR does not belong to me, unfortunately.

. . . . . .

DECEMBER 1859

ARSELLA*, ITALY

The sky was dark. Near-black clouds covered the setting sun, making it hard to pick out anything. The boy managed to find his way however, knowing the location of his destination. Moving past bustling carts packing up for the day, he turned down an alleyway between a vegetable market and a locksmith. Rounding a few bends, he came upon a space surrounded by buildings on every side except the alleyway which he came from. The windows on each respective building were blocked from the inside with tattered drapes, and clothing lines were strung from every which way. Heading to one of the buildings on the left, he carefully climbed up wooden steps creaky with age. At the top of the landing, he paused at the door that led into the building. He had been told to come here by a strange man that had passed him by on the street earlier. Not even being able to confirm what the man looked like because he had already been gone, the boy had come here because he felt strangely compelled to if only to find out what the man wanted. A dangerous idea, but he was curious.

Loosening the collar of his simple white button-down shirt in a moment of uncertainty, the boy knocked on the door tentatively. He was surprised when the door swung inward at his touch, allowing him access to the room. It was old and musky, with dust covering most of the surfaces inside. The only light came from a single candle perched atop a mantle above the single fireplace in the room, towards the left wall. A table sat in the middle of the room, and picture frames lined the right wall. Peering into the darkness, he quickly spotted a silhouetted figure in a chair at the back of the room behind the table, mostly veiled in shadow.

"Benvenuto." ("Welcome.") The figure spoke in accented Italian, voice soft and feminine. Their Italian was decent enough that he could understand them. The figure struck a match, lighting another candle that he hadn't seen on the middle of the table.

The figure, indeed female, wore a white button shirt. A large, mushroom-shaped white hat with a thick black bar and parallel orange stripes fit snugly on her head, and a white cloak hung from her shoulders down to the floor. An orange floral mark was present under her right eye; her eyes themselves were a brilliant royal blue. Her short, neat hair was raven black.

"Ciao," the boy responded cautiously, gauging the room carefully. It seemed safe enough, so he stepped inside, leaving the door open so he could escape if needed. He hadn't known what to expect, but it certainly wasn't this.

Seeing what resembled compliance from the boy, the female began to introduce herself, a friendly smile on her face. "I am Sepira, Giglio Nero Primo of the Giglio Nero Famiglia. You are the one who has recently created the vigilante group in this town, yes?" Her fingers traced designs on an ornamental box before her as she held his gaze steadily. She noted his wariness so she did her best to appear non-threatening.

The boy was stunned. Only his two friends knew of their vigilante group, because they had helped him unofficially create it. So how did this girl know? He also hadn't heard of the Giglio Nero before. The Mafia was growing ever abundant in these lands, even in this town, so he wondered if he was dealing with a true Famiglia. If he was, they certainly weren't from the area. "Yes," he responded, guarded. The boy said nothing else, waiting to see if she would continue.

Sepira chuckled. "Be at ease. I happen to know a lot about you, but I mean no harm." She stretched her arms forward to show her affability. "I have been watching you for a while, evaluating your morals. You treat all with a sense of justice, compassion, and respect. I asked my companion—the man who stopped you earlier—to fetch you when I deemed you satisfactory to guard a certain... treasure of sorts." Clicking the lock of the box before her, she opened the lid and turned it to face him. Inside sat seven rings, each beautifully crafted.

He stared at them from his position near the door, transfixed, all thoughts of the unusual situation forgotten. He noticed there seemed to be one main ring. It was rounded with six jewels inset around its circumference on the left and right sides. Brass-colored working framed the jewels, and smudges that almost looked like words looped around the top and bottom, which he found very strange. In the very middle of the ring was a large, dark blue gem, that of which had a clam etched inside it. It appeared to be for a Sky Flame user, as it didn't match any of the other rings. The other six rings each had a flat, colored jewel embedded at the top that corresponded with one of the six same-colored jewels on the main Sky Ring. The colors matched each type of the Seven Flames of the Sky: a red one for Storm Flames, blue for Rain Flames, yellow for Sun Flames, green for Lightning Flames, indigo for Mist Flames, and violet for Cloud Flames. Within the jewel, the symbol for the specific Flame was carved within.

Sepira spoke, breaking his thoughts. "Your compassion above all else is needed to safeguard these rings."

"...Why me?" he asked eventually, disconcerted, shifting his amber gaze back up to Sepira markedly. "Compassion isn't hard to find if you know where to look."

She looked amused. "It was foreseen; a contingency in happenstance, if you will. An unprecedented vigilante group to protect the people against crime is certainly a valiant establishment. Your orange Sky Flame is one of the purest I have seen, clearly an indicator to your strong resolve. You have considerable power from your Flame purity that you will not misuse; I can see it in your eyes. There is no one quite like you in such circumstances."

The boy goggled at her in deeper mystification than before. How had she seen his Sky Flame? He had barely been able to activate it at all and hadn't felt any watching presence while he attempted weeks ago. Despite her bold words, he sensed that what she was saying was truthful and from her heart. She was seemingly a very keen observer. "Do these rings have something to do with the balance of the Flames of the Sky?" he inquired, trying to satisfy his growing list of questions.

She studied him knowingly. "I've heard much about your Hyper Intuition too. Very impressive, yes, it's as you've surmised. These rings, along with two other sets of seven items, compose of the 'trinisette'. To put it simply, they are treasures that use the Flames of the Sky to keep worldly functions in balance. I know it is a lot to think about and accept with so little warning or knowledge, but will you defend them?"

Wondering what else she could possibly surprise him with, the boy stepped closer to the table without comment, if only to not appear shaken. Guessing his intent, Sepira pushed the box closer to him as he did so, gazing at him carefully. She spoke in a chant-like whisper, "The sea knows no limits to its vastness; clams live through the ages, inheriting their shapes; and the rainbow appears every now and then, only to fade away again." Her gaze grew in intensity. "The song is important. Please remember it, as it will aid your descendants down the line."

"Rainbows? Clams...?" The boy was baffled. His eyes flicked down to the main ring, studying the clam shape within.

"You'll see, in time," the Giglio Nero Primo responded. The glow of the candle lights reflected off the rings as Sepira answered him, and the boy felt compelled to touch them. Picking up the Sky Ring, he rolled it between his fingers, inspecting the surface carefully. He slipped it on over his middle finger on his right hand, surprised when a faint orange glow radiated from it.

E'la nostra ora incisa sull'anello.*

The phrase entered his mind of its own accord, and power not unlike his Flame rushed through his body. The boy knew it all felt... right, to say the least. There were a lot of missing puzzle pieces, including what the other two sets were, and how the trinisette did what it supposedly did. However, he had already made his mind up, regardless. "I think my friend, G, will kill me twice now, one for leaving unannounced, and two... for accepting powerful rings that will likely bring much trouble?" he turned the latter half of his statement into a question, eyebrow raised.

Sepira threw her hands up in a surrendering gesture, although her face was clearly relieved that he had accepted them. "Your Intuition is unmatched. The rings will allow your power to travel down vertical space-time, known as the Miracle of the Shield Dimension. In other words, you can grant power to your descendants in the future. Your own power will also be amplified considerably. As these rings do grant great power, they also do come with a price... I can say for sure that you will gain many enemies that will seek such power. However, you will soon meet important and strong allies, like-minded as you, to help you uphold your desires and protect what is yours. I would say they nullify each other, no?"

The boy didn't show much reaction to Sepira's explanation. A lot of what she was saying still didn't make sense to him, so he assumed it simply wasn't his time for understanding it yet. "Who knows," he said, smiling ruefully. Everyone from around the area knew that it was growing harder to trust the people around them, a thought that saddened him greatly. The boy slipped the ring off his finger and placed it back into the box. Clicking it shut, he picked it up and cradled it against him with his left arm, as it was too big to slip in a pocket. Turning to leave, he proceeded towards the exit.

"Grazie, Giotto. Buona notte," Sepira called out cheerfully. ("Good night.")

Giotto paused at the doorway, briefly rubbing a hand through his golden-blonde hair in bemusement at her endless knowledge of him, that which apparently included his name, too. Without glancing back behind him, he held his right hand up in farewell. "Buona notte." The candle lights blew out as he left.


"Giotto!" a voice called out angrily.

Turning his head slightly so that he could see from the corner of his eye who was calling out to him, Giotto expected nothing less from this person—his friend. It was clear they had been out searching for him desperately this whole time. Giotto began to feel many curious eyes from night-goers on him as the surrounding people sought the source of the sudden commotion. Wanting to escape the pressure of watchful gazes, Giotto took off into a sprint instead of waiting for his friend, dashing down another one of the town's many alleyways.

"What the—? What is he up to?" G, the friend in question, groaned as his golden-haired quarry started running away from him. He had finally found Giotto after a long time of searching. Sure, Giotto would receive a much-needed verbal tirade, but for him to flee was unusual in any circumstance. "Giotto! Stop!" G called out again, picking up his speed to follow his friend, dodging a cart that nearly careened into him. He heard cursing behind him but paid it no heed.

Giotto proved no pushover in terms of his speed. He turned right when he came at a small intersection, trying to keep his path unpredictable. He was unlucky that Arsella was built compactly and urban-like, it made travel—escape, really—quite tricky. It also didn't help that it was built on sloped and terraced land that, if not traversed carefully, could sap a person's energy. Holding on to the ring box like his life depended on it, the golden-haired boy knew very well that G would catch up soon despite himself. Making a left after a bunch of fallen barrels in an alleyway impeded his path going straight, he came to a stop when he realized he had turned down a dead end that the darkness had shielded. Sighing, Giotto turned around so the disheveled wall was to his back. Buildings on either side closed him in and blocked out the moonlight from the dead-end alley. He supposed it was remote enough.

G turned the corner not even half a second later, hawk-like eyes spotting him in the darkness. "You—are you crazy?" He appeared to be fuming. Closing the distance between them in one bound, his friend grasped the cusp of Giotto's collared shirt, pulling him close forcefully. "I spent half the day looking for you! You can't go out alone, not while all the emerging thugs and Mafiosi could be anywhere! What if something happens to you? What can I do to get that through your thick head? And then you even run from me!" G chastised overwhelmingly, shaking him back and forth to get his words to sink in faster. So forceful was the shaking that the first button on Giotto's shirt snapped off.

Raising his free right hand while ignoring the scolding, Giotto placed it against G's forehead, mostly to stop the violent shaking, which worked. "Hmm, your temperature is fine," he announced with a smirk after a long moment. "You were glowing, getting as red as your hair; I couldn't even see your red flame tattoo on your face, it was that bad. I was concerned you were in the throes of a deadly fever."

He was lucky the darkness shielded him from the look that G gave him. G released his friend roughly and stepped back, touching his forehead as if he had been contaminated. He also dusted his black shirt off in the same fashion. "I was not. This is no time for joking, you're too carefree about this—."

Giotto lifted his hand again to stop G's bombardment; so much like a storm, his friend was. "Will you let me explain, then?" The amusement left his voice and it took on a more resolute inflection. He adjusted the box in his grip, catching G's eyes on it as he did so. It was obviously the first time his friend noticed it; he had been too enwrapped within his fervor to notice it before.

"Tch... fine. You better have a good explanation," G relented, kicking a piece of trash away from his foot. He continuously eyed the box like he wanted to say something else. He wisely didn't.

Giotto thumped his fingers against the box for good measure, taking a moment to figure out what he was going to say. "I know being outside has been dangerous lately; what happened to Paolo and Franco recently has attested to that. However, I had little choice. I received these," he held up the box, "with little warning and nothing to go on but a hunch. Considering the circumstances, you probably wouldn't have let me go to where I was going. If you had though, you probably would have done everything in your power to make sure I declined the box. It was rather necessary I went alone to do this successfully."

G's forehead crinkled more than once during the quick explanation, and he couldn't help but feel half of the story was missing. It also didn't explain exactly what was in the box, who gave him the box, and why exactly he accepted it, his Hyper Intuition notwithstanding. Giotto's assessment of him in such a situation was more correct than not, so he didn't argue that point. "Who gave you this box? And what is even in there?" G asked instead.

"That's something I will tell you later," Giotto replied vaguely, clearly evading any attempts at giving specific information.

"Belle parole non pascon i gatti*," G grunted in annoyance. ("Fine words don't feed cats.") He couldn't imagine what was so important that made Giotto hesitate to tell him here, but he knew he had no choice but to wait until then, however long that would be. Giotto was peculiarly stubborn that way. Suddenly, G's crimson eyes narrowed. "So why did you run away from me, then?"

"Oh, that. It was obvious you were going to shout at me no matter what, so I figured I might as well find a private place. Plus, there was a good chance you'd notice the box and question me about it, perhaps loudly. As you have said, it's not as safe anymore. Anyone in that crowd could have been listening in. Running, you see, gave me a chance to get off the main street and get you angry enough to not notice the box right away." Giotto couldn't hide his mirth nor the crooked smile that touched his features.

G stared at him, eye twitching and mouth agape. Upon realizing, he closed it quickly and groaned, covering his face with a hand. Trounced even in this kind of situation. Only the person before him would think of something like this. "Whatever. I give up," he conceded. "Let's get back to Cozarto before you actually get mugged. Or I decide to kill you," he added a tad pithily. Turning away from Giotto, the red-haired boy began strolling away, hands in his pockets, shaking his head in disbelief ever-so-slightly.

Giotto began to follow, but stopped. He couldn't resist one last blow. "G?"

"What?" He didn't turn around.

"You owe me a new shirt, I think I should mention."

"Agh, shut up."


He stared at the woman before him, his ire evident in every expression he made. "Why?" he snarled. "You told one of your followers to scout out a human? Without consulting me?"

Sepira inspected him levelly. "Kawahira, you know for a fact we can no longer support the trinisette alone. You have one set, I have a second set, and now a human has the third set. The Giglio Nero I have created has deemed him worthy. We both no longer have to worry about the burden we once carried."

Kawahira was nearly spitting venom in a verbal sense. "But a human! What can they do?"

Sepira's royal blue gaze grew cooler. "They are capable. I know you don't want to co-exist with them, but I do. If you cannot accept my decision, then I don't think collaborating any further is necessary. Besides, you have the choice to manage your set however you so desire." The trees around them in the forest they stood in seemed to rustle in agreement.

He glowered at her, adjusting his checkered mask under his 'Kawahira' human guise. "Very well. This is goodbye then, Sepira; we will never meet again. Our kind will officially perish. I hope you are able to uphold your decision for the rest of eternity."

He turned and disappeared into the forest, Sepira's final, resigned countenance burned forever in his mind.

Kawahira now had his adjudication on what he would do with his set of the trinisette after speaking with her.

If Sepira chose humans as holder of the third set, he could trifle with them too.

He would do so. All he would have to do would be to find the strongest of the Flame of the Sky users and lure them in.

A form that would last in holding the most powerful Flames. He would need to experiment. But he had ideas.

The ores in his coat pockets materialized into something that represented youth and, by extension, eternity: pacifiers. Humanity continued on through the passing of genes to their young and thus continued to exist. Why couldn't he do the same with the trinisette powers?

They would be known as the Arcobaleno, the seven strongest adults turned into young, baby forms of themselves. What better way to keep the trinisette guarded forever other than those he could make perpetually young?

He chuckled, setting off to immediately complete his self-given task.


Giotto waved goodbye to his grandpa, moving from the shabby old home to the outside world. The Italian sun was there as always, creating sweltering conditions that he was pretty used to at this point.

Moving along quickly, he met G who was waiting in front of a coffeehouse. His friend watched him approach with an impervious expression, arms crossed.

Giotto blinked at him innocently, strolling past without a word. G followed behind him, not trying to walk step-for-step as he usually would. He still seemed cross about the previous night and was refusing frivolous conversation. Giotto's beguiling smile never faded all the way to their daily meeting spot with Cozarto Simon: an open plaza in central Arsella with a small fountain sitting in the middle.

Cozarto was there, leaning against the ledge of the fountain as he enjoyed the faint mist that came from the spray. When he noticed Giotto and G, he lifted his cap in greeting. "Ciao!" He was wearing yet another one of his vests under a cream-colored shirt.

Giotto and Cozarto shook hands as their customary greeting. G remained stationary, still looking miffed. "He's still annoyed, huh?" Cozarto smirked, eyeing the two.

Giotto glanced back towards G, shrugging. "Maybe, but I will make it up to him today because I plan to mention what's in the box. I hope you too didn't get too much hassle from your grandparents for returning so late."

Cozarto laughed out loud upon seeing interest for the first time that day from G, unbeknownst to Giotto. "I got lectured but that was all. I admit I'm curious about what's in there too," he replied. Cozarto had been filled in by G once Giotto had been found the previous night.

The three traveled from the plaza through one of the many alleyways where they could find privacy and solitude. Each took a seat on the various chests and boxes that were strewn under an awning attached to an abandoned building.

Giotto settled himself down in comfort, facing both G and Cozarto, both of whom were now watching him expectantly. He decided to get it out and deliver the news bluntly. "There were rings in the box."

There was dead silence at first. Whether it was from the suddenness of the revelation or the identity of the items in the box, Giotto did not know.

"That can't be," G responded for the first time after a moment, looking indignant. "Not after all the trouble you went through, and put me in."

Cozarto cackled as his response, ever the optimist. "Knowing Giotto, they're probably special somehow," he spoke between laughter. G glared at him.

"Yes, indeed," Giotto confirmed Cozarto's statement. "The rings can amplify matching Flame type. I was also told something about sending power through time..."

G looked rightfully incredulous, his piercing stare focused on the golden-blonde-haired boy. "Sending power through time?"

"It's nothing I can explain, but I don't think that girl was lying. Somehow she knew a lot about me," Giotto frowned while speaking. "So I believe that it is possible in some way..." He had told them about the Giglio Nero Primo the night before.

G sighed. He looked troubled, but seemed to grudgingly give Giotto the benefit of the doubt. It was a crazy idea, but it might just be the case with Giotto. "When can we see them then, is what I want to know?"

"Soon," Giotto promised. "I want to study them first." He was afraid to drag his two best friends into whatever mess the rings might possibly symbolize in the future. He also did want to try the rings on himself before he even thought about giving them to others. Giotto knew that Cozarto had a strange, different Flame type than either him or G, one that didn't match up with the Flames of the Sky. He doubted Cozarto would be able to draw out their power because of it, so he didn't want to cause any complications.

G muttering "fine" under his breath drew Giotto out of his reverie. To his surprise, the red-haired boy dropped the conversation about the rings after that.


The three walked in companionable silence as they patrolled the town, nearing dusk. It was expansive, as Arsella climbed up a large hill, creating differently-elevated buildings, making their patrolling something that required stamina. Luckily, all three were fit enough to carry out their task.

Moving through a few thin corridors lined with small shops, the trio halted a distance away when they heard shouting that appeared to be coming from a fish market. Sharing a glance with G and Cozarto, Giotto signaled with his hand. "Let's get closer," he whispered. Pressing themselves against the walls of a nearby building, they watched the scene unfold.

"How did this happen?" A rounder man with an apron, clearly the person in charge, snapped, pointing to a fallen barrel at his feet. Fish spilled out of it on the dusty floor.

The person he spoke to, a younger man, cowered on the other side of the barrel. "It wasn't my fault!" the younger man pleaded. "I didn't see who it was, sir."

The man in charge looked annoyed. "Well go find out who it was, then. We can't have this keep happening." He flicked his hand dismissively before turning away.

The younger man remained where he was, staring at the barrel. He righted it before stepping out into the street, wiping his brow.

Giotto and his friends exchanged looks with each other.

"This is a good chance to get ourselves out there," Cozarto spoke quietly.

Giotto and G nodded their consent. They had formed their vigilante group only six months ago and were eager to do what they could for the people of Arsella.

. . . . . .

Arsella {ita} - Means mussel. This town is made up.

E'la nostra ora incisa sull'anello {ita} - Our time is engraved on our Rings. (It is stated in chapter 158).

Belle parole non pascon i gatti {ita} - Fine words don't feed cats. The saying pretty much means trying to talk your way out of something won't get anything done.

A/N: I believe Giotto received the rings when he had just created the Vongola, so I went with that. I would say he met Cozarto at 14 (Tsuna's age) and created the vigilante group at 15, which is his current age in this chapter (as are G and Cozarto).

I also want to mention right off the bat that the disparity is not great between the First Generation and Tenth Generation Vongola, only about 150-200 years technically, not 400 years (assuming Tsuna's time is between 2005-2010). A human generation is about 20 years. 15 or 20•10 generations gives 150 or 200 years. We also don't know how long each boss reigned for; considering it's the mafia they probably didn't rule their whole lives/until old age. Secondly, the Sicilian Mafia was only institutionalized around the mid 19th century, so having established mafia before that, as 400 years would have it, is historically illogical.

Anyway, that concludes the first chapter! How was it? If there is any confusion, suggestions, or general comments, feel free to leave a review. :)