"The dress must follow the body of a woman, not the body following the shape of the dress." – Hubert de Givenchy
Nothing felt better than curling up in your bubble and just letting the days pass by, with nothing holding you down or weighing on your shoulders like some heavy blanket that reeked of shame and self-loathing. Oh, and some daily dose of hot chocolate and Sugar Angels because why the hell not? Nothing was better than having steamy hot cocoa in the hottest week of July anyways.
"Tsuna."
He spoke too soon. Slumping further against the couch and wrapped in a cozy orange blanket, Tsuna hugged his warm mug to his chest and pretended that Haru was just some silly wind. He wished the couch could swallow him whole. Natsu purred beside him, a warm and great comfort for what was to come. Some explosion sound effects came from the TV when Bluebell jumped out of a destroyed building and dove epically into the nearby harbor with a big splash.
"Oh, oh, look!" Tsuna said, ignoring the increasing amount of negative energy behind him. What a party pooper. "This is the best part!"
Three large Gola Moscas leapt out of the debris onto the boardwalk, ignoring the screaming people around them—the show was as PG as it could get, alright?—with some smoke trailing behind their bulky frames. They aimed their metallic hands below the deck before shooting bullets into the water. A brief moment of silence fell as the scene cut to the now calm waters. The Gola Moscas lowered their hands.
Suddenly a loud splash erupted in the air, revealing Bluebell in her ultimate form. Smirking, she raised her palm in the air, her now mermaid-like body glowing blue. Tsuna pumped his fist in the air and spoke alongside her, having memorized every single line of dialogue to heart. "Ha! You thought that could defeat me? Take this! Rain Seash—!"
The TV suddenly shut off. Tsuna blinked, already halfway off the couch with his mug held high in the air. Natsu quickly hopped down on the floor and slinked away, the traitor. "I was watching that," Tsuna said, pouting.
Haru waved the TV cord a little too aggressively. "Do you know what day it is, Tsuna?"
Tsuna didn't move. "Watching-Sugar-Angels-Season-4-and-Drinking-Hot-Cocoa-Day? By the way, you just unplugged the TV if you didn't know. Kindly plug it back in and carry on."
Haru let out a frustrated cry, making Tsuna falter just a wee tad. "Tsuna, I swear to God and everything holy that I will chuck your DVDs out the goddamn window with your stupid collections!"
Oh lord almighty, Tsuna was fucked. He slowly set his mug down on the coffee table, never straying his gaze from Haru's livid face no matter how much he wanted to. Looking away would just make her angrier. Women—what could Tsuna do?
"I'm going to ask you again," Haru said mildly. That was even worse. "What day is it today?"
Tsuna smiled sweetly and grabbed his phone. "Let me get back to you on that."
There were text messages from Spanner who was watching the episodes with him while working on some photos on the side.
10:21 PM: the gms r impressive but bbs shells are stronger. prob bad metal and exterior.
10:21 PM: sfx is still decent. have u watched project ragnarok? the mechas there r impressive.
10:21 PM: btw bbs tail armor isnt practical.
If Tsuna had to be honest, Spanner was cute with all that geek talk, and all the more endearing fo indulging him. Finally someone who was on the same wavelength. Biting his lip, Tsuna quickly responded: i love it when you talk technical w/me ;) and no i only heard about it. i shall check it out as his majesty decrees.
As soon as Tsuna sent the text, his phone was suddenly swiped from his hands. A small gasp escaped his lips. "Haru, how dare you. My stuff belongs to me and only m—"
Haru narrowed her eyes. "Tsuna."
"Sunday, my sweet. It's Sunday. Now will you kindly return my phone to me? I'm in the middle of a very important correspondence."
Haru didn't return the phone. Instead, she glanced at it and raised a brow. "I highly doubt you're having such an important conversation with someone called Lollipops." She then promptly shut off the device and tucked it in her back pocket, ignoring Tsuna's whimper.
"I said the right answer," Tsuna said. "I wouldn't have mixed up Sunday for Wednesday, which I still can't spell by the way."
"Doesn't matter. Did you even start on your work?"
"I was just about to start Season Five, yes."
"I meant Hotaru-san's commission, which is due tomorrow."
"Oh, that. I was hoping you forgot."
"And how would I forget something so important?"
There was a beat of silence. "Sadly, you're absolutely right." Tsuna slumped back onto the couch, wishing the cushions would devour him right then and there. He'd rather suffocate from dust bunnies than do…work. He smiled sweetly. "Let me just finish the season finale and we'll see that work will get done."
Haru wasn't swayed. "It's almost 10:30, Tsuna. It's now"—she stomped over to the windows and pulled back the drapes, revealing the starry sky and the city's soft glows from below—"the night. Therefore, you need to get off your ass right now and make something at least decent for the kid."
Tsuna tightened his blanket around his shoulders and shuffled to the workshop when Haru stood dangerously close to his figurine collection. "Fine. It's not even for a fucking gala, but a birthday party. There's an insult in there somewhere."
"I should take that and give you holy water instead," Haru said, although there was a tinge of amusement in her eyes.
Tsuna stuck out his tongue and hugged his mug closer to his chest. "I'll see you in hell."
"Au revoir."
"Au revoir," Tsuna mimicked mockingly. "I swear, if you weren't so you, I would've kicked you out." He sighed dramatically as he unlocked the door and turned on the lights, cringing from the brightness. He lowered them until they were dimmed just enough for him to work in. "There's no appreciation around here."
"I don't hear any working going on in there!" Haru said from the kitchen.
"Oh, sweet and fair maiden," Tsuna said, leaning on the doorway, "can I at least have my precious phone back? You don't want me to die from boredom before I finish, right? Plus, my notes are in there."
"You don't take notes and you won't die. Just shut up and get to work, Tsuna."
"It's going to be too quiet though!" Tsuna whined, thumping his head against the door. "I promise I won't do anything!"
Haru raised a brow as she brewed some coffee. Tsuna wasn't going to drink it. Hot cocoa was better than that shit anyways. "Anything?" she said in a testy tone.
Tsuna deadpanned. "Touché, mon cher."
With that, he slammed the door close and locked it out of pure pettiness. Also, he was going to go on a hunger strike. Haru cared but Tsuna could really care less, and that was how they were perfect for each other.
Alright, that would make better sense if he wasn't so caught up in the rumble of emotions pressuring his chest. Scratching his head, Tsuna dragged a naked mannequin from the corner of the room to stand beside the sketching desk. He stared at it for a moment, already imagining the fabric and dress that would wound around the pale torso against his best efforts. The lull of distant traffic outside sang gently in his ears.
"A birthday party," he muttered under his breath, almost scandalous. "What a world we live in."
His voice echoed in the large space, soft but still managing to tingle his nerves. He wrapped his blanket more securely around him, sipped some cooling hot chocolate, and finally picked up a pencil. Twirling it idly in his hand, he began humming the Sugar Angels' theme song. What should've been a cheerful bop sounded almost mournful in the stifling room.
Tsuna shook his head. "A goddamn birthday party."
His tongue ached for a drink but he ignored it in favor of forcing his hand to glide across the paper and let the pencil channel his repressed desires.
His pettiness overrode his reasoning. It wasn't like this was the first all-nighter Tsuna ever pulled and it certainly wouldn't be the last. No matter how much sleep crept in the corners of his mind, Tsuna continued working on the dress until a finished product greeted him at morning light. He wasn't all that satisfied with it to be honest, but he suppressed the itch to re-do it because he could care less about the damn dress. If Makoto thought it was bad enough even for him, that would make one less sorry bloke who'd have his shit stolen, Tsuna thought idly.
It had been strange to see the man again. However, Tsuna wasn't the type to let bygones be bygones. Anything or anyone who hurt the ones he loved were going to get bitten ten times harder than they would ever dream of. With teeth. And possibly fake canines for effect.
"I need orange juice," he groaned, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his palms. "I need hot chocolate. I need sweet Kyoko-chan!" He let out an exasperated noise and fell off his stool. The floor was much nicer for his back than that goddamn chair had been all night. Tsuna stared at the white ceiling, grimacing when a sliver of sunlight reached his face through the thin drapes. It burned feebly but he didn't move. "I need…"
Tsuna sighed, letting the words hang precariously in the air. Rolling over, he peered up at the dress he had slaved over throughout the night. The fact that he even finished it was a miracle. It wasn't too flashy; it was for a fucking little girls' birthday party, okay? A short tulle dress, it was pure white, a perfect backdrop for the embroidered cherries and brown branches that decorated the bottom of the skirt. They came off elegant but also with an innocent charm befitting a child. And Tsuna was pretty proud about that, alright? It had been awhile since he'd done something so elaborate, even if they were fucking cherries. He was just grateful that he had enough thread.
Flexing his numb fingers, Tsuna sat up and grabbed his blanket. He draped it over his shoulders, yawning, and headed for the door. He almost stepped on a plate of sandwich covered by a plastic wrap and a cup of cold, stale, disgusting coffee. Haru had knocked on his door at some point last night but Tsuna didn't remember or let her in. His food strike was still ongoing. Anything made by the wench would not be touched. He was petty, very petty.
There was no sign of Haru, but there was some leftover fried rice in the frying pan for him. Tsuna, instead, headed for the fridge. He frowned when he saw only a carton of eggs, some bottled water, and milk. When was the last time they went grocery shopping? At the corner of his eye, he saw his cell phone lying innocently on the bar counter with a small note. After settling on making some more hot chocolate—there was one packet left in the pantry, victory!—Tsuna picked up the pink green post-it that had some cute red ribbon on the top. He suddenly thought about Christmas and the tree he took great pride in putting up stashed in the back of his closet.
Tsuna, don't push yourself too much. Be back at 7 tonight. Movie? I'll get snacks. – Haru
Tsuna's lips twitched. Haru's apology was always tentative but genuine. He forgave her. Folding the note and tucking it away in his sweatpants, he picked up his cell phone which had a stream of text messages and, oh joy, a missed call from Reborn. Who would've thought? Sitting down on a high stool, Tsuna browsed through the texts and smiled when most of them were from Spanner. They were all running commentary about the episodes Tsuna missed thanks to Haru's tantrum (albeit a tad justified). He glanced at the frying pan before standing and stretching his arms in the air. He sent a quick apology to Spanner for getting caught up on "dire work that had to be dreadfully tended to" with a crying bunny emoticon and didn't bother calling Reborn back. The man would somehow get a hold of him one way or another; Tsuna just had to carry on without getting caught.
Natsu quietly slipped out of his hiding place and looked up at Tsuna with wide, worried eyes. The brunet couldn't help but laugh breathlessly and pick the cat up. "You should've been born a dog," he said, lifting Natsu onto the counter. "That way, you could've stuck by my side come hell or high waters. What do cats know anyways?" The jab was half-assed at best and desperate at worst. Natsu licked Tsuna's hand in apology, making him smile. "You traitor."
Natsu just meowed in response. All was forgiven.
Going out into the world was exhausting and a chore for someone as passive as Tsuna. Passive, not lazy, as he would like to say whenever Haru caught him up in a lecture. He'd rather stay in one place and only do something that required minimal effort, both physically and mentally. On some occasions, he would admit that he'd rather be born as a fish than a human being. Swimming peacefully in a small tank with limited mobility and locations was right up in his alley. His father would've agreed, too.
So, when M.M sent him a text that her friends were willing to meet with him about their absolutely illegal info-gathering, Tsuna waited 15 minutes or so to respond, and respond he did: k.
Whistling the tune to an upbeat Sugar Angels' OST "Fire Up!", Tsuna was in no rush shifting through his sparse wardrobe. Natsu hopped onto his messy bed and stretched his lithe body out, purring contentedly. A small ding came from his phone, lighting up with a notification, but Tsuna ignored it. He didn't end up changing into a new pair of clothes, finding everything tedious. Really, it was to stall. Everything was meant to stall.
He just grabbed some socks, slipped on his comfy black Adidas slippers, made sure his sunglasses were right where he wanted them to be, and left with a kiss on Natsu's head. When the elevator dinged at the lobby floor, Tsuna walked out with casual confidence. He stopped by the front desk and rapped his knuckles lightly on the marble counter to catch Shirasu's attention. The man immediately straightened up and smiled when he saw Tsuna. "Kato-san! Going out?"
"Where else?" Tsuna said, smiling pleasantly in return. "I'm a bit offended though, Shira-kun. What could demand your attention more than me at this moment?"
Tomoko tried hard not to meet Tsuna's gaze, but her lips twitched in an effort to suppress a smile. Tsuna grinned, showing some teeth. "Why, Koizumi-san, you look lovelier with a smile, you know? It's best not to keep that hidden, especially in a place of well-meaning patrons."
The blush on the woman's cheeks reddened further, reminding Tsuna of cherries for some reason. Ah, that wasn't good. What other delusions of food would his sadistic mind conjure? This wasn't the first time it happened and it wouldn't be the last, Tsuna mused.
"So, what was Shira-kun up to?" he said, ignoring Shirasu's embarrassed sputters.
Wide-eyed, Tomoko looked back and forth between the men before settling on the lesser of two evils. "Shirasu-san was just browsing through a magazine before you arrived, Sato-san," she said slowly, then closed her eyes as if bracing herself.
Tsuna hummed to himself. "A magazine," he said. "I'm even more offended."
Shirasu laughed loudly in an awkward fashion. "T—There's nothing to worry about, Sato-san! I think you're more attractive than most of these men here!"
"Most?"
"All. I meant, all."
Tsuna smiled. "Thought so. But still, what could possibly have captured your attention so, Shira-kun? Let's have a look-see." He reached out his hand, silently asking for the magazine the secretary was snooping through.
With crestfallen eyes, Shirasu handed it over without hesitation. "I did mean it, Sato-san," he said, looking like a kicked puppy.
"Oh, I believe you," Tsuna said, flipping through the smooth silky pages. He caught a whiff of sweet perfume as he perused the pictures. The magazine was high-end, Murasaki, with high-end models. Since it was the summer, they were all dressed in the appropriate fashion, long-legged, smooth skin, and suave as they came.
"And I agree with you 200%." Tsuna smiled. "So which one took your fancy, Shira-kun? Perhaps this one?" He stopped at a page that featured a full-body shot of Bianchi walking along the wide open streets of Italy, dressed in a short-sleeved red blouse tucked in black shorts that had a white belt and some black sandal pumps. "She's a little cold, isn't she? Too uptight, needs a chill pill. Maybe…this one?" He flipped to another page that showed M.M standing in front of a white building and on top of sierra-colored tiled floors, wearing a white shirt underneath a loose tan mini-dress of sorts that almost resembled overalls and some open-toed white heels. A beige handbag was draped over her arm as she looked sensually into the camera. "A little too snooty, right? Maybe not."
Shirasu sputtered out some unintelligible words before Tomoko, with good intentions, said, "Shirasu-san was admiring Bianchi, Kato-san."
"Oh, so you like the cougars?" Tsuna said, nodding in feigned seriousness. "No judgement. I know it's a hard time and all but do be careful, Shira-kun. Some cougars bite." He turned to Tomoko who tensed. "And who do you fancy, Koizumi-san? Please refrain from saying that devil's name from yesterday because he simply doesn't exist and will never be good enough for you."
Tomoko blushed before looking down at her hands. She mumbled something under her breath, making Shirasu cough lightly into his fist.
"I'm sorry, sweetheart," Tsuna said, unapologetic in the slightest. "I didn't catch that."
"X—Xanxus," Tomoko said, her face turning red like a tomato. Were tomatoes fruits or vegetables, Tsuna wondered. "I like Xanxus…"
Tsuna grinned. "The bad boys, I see. My, my, both of you seem to have such dangerous tastes. It's always the nice ones, isn't it? I'm sure there's some trashy magazine out there talking about the shoddy psychology behind why we're attracted to the broody ones."
"And what about you, Sato-san?" Tomoko said before she could stop herself. She winced slightly as if realizing her mistake, but Tsuna appreciated her bout of bravery. "Do you have anyone you like?"
Tsuna tapped his chin in mock-thought. "Ah, yes. Yes, I do. She's petite, quite nice, very nice actually. Always a good shoulder to lean on, very pretty. Sweet and practically the most perfect girl in the world."
Shirasu and Tomoko seemed to relax at that, like it was the small dose of normalcy they needed to reassure themselves that Tsuna wasn't all that insane. It amused the brunet so. "She sounds like a wonderful person," Tomoko said warmly, almost losing herself into some whimsical romantic fantasy.
Tsuna nodded. "Yup, she is. She's even more wonderful when fighting giant mecha robots and using the powers of the sun in her cute wand to destroy monsters, too." The looks on the secretaries' faces were priceless. He snapped his fingers. "Ah, right. Let me borrow that there." He didn't wait for their response as he reached for the building's business card and a pen. He scribbled some names down. "Remember that list I told you about, Shira-kun? The 'nobody will step foot in a 300-mile radius' or so? These are the first honorary members. I'd also like it if you'd keep their little visits under wraps, hm? It won't be good press."
He handed Shirasu the card when a thought struck him after he skimmed the very short list again. A giggle bubbled in his throat until he fell over into full-blown laughter. The secretaries gaped at him, equally horrified and worried. "Sorry, sorry," Tsuna said, wiping the tears from his eyes and putting his sunglasses back on. "I just realized something. Carry on and have a marvelous day, Shira-kun, Koizumi-san."
He didn't wait for them to respond and simply left as if nothing happened. The doors slid open before he stepped out into the unbearable summer heat. He hummed "Fire Up!" under his breath when he walked towards his car. Putting the AC on full-blast, Tsuna fished his phone out of his pockets and promptly switched "Sunshine Devil" to "Curly Fries".
Ah, what a time to be alive.
Tsuna didn't bother to look around when he entered one of the top luxury hotels in Tokyo, though the AC was much-appreciated. The opulence would've blinded him, even if he was wearing sunglasses, and he wasn't fond of seeing food in place of nice sofas and tables. Ignoring the odd locks from tourists, residents, and workers, Tsuna plopped down on a table in the hotel's café and sent M.M a text. He crossed his legs casually, resting his ankle on his thigh, and perused the menu overhead the sleek oak counter where baristas bustled about with customers' orders and brewed coffee underneath a golden chandelier.
M.M appeared a few minutes later, stepping out of the elevators with an impressive disguise: a long black wig, sunglasses, and a mask clashing with her short yellow dress that was, at least, casual. Tsuna snorted when she approached him. "Hello, Agent Obvious," he said, leaning back against the chair. "Might as well paint yourself red and green while you're at it."
Crossing her arms over her chest, the model huffed, the indignant breath muted by her mask. "You said that you wanted me to meet you here."
"It was the other way around, sweetheart." Tsuna turned back to the menu. "But what impeccable timing as always. How's the Black Raspberry-Vanilla smoothie here? Oh, or the Mango-Acai? Isn't there anything here for a simple pleb like me?"
"Why complain, Your Majesty," M.M said dryly.
Tsuna grinned. "You're absolutely right. I'll take two."
"I'm not buying them for you. Where's your wallet this time?"
"Is that an invitation to dress you up as a popsicle? Challenge eagerly accepted."
M.M threw her hands in the air with an annoyed grunt. "Fine. Wait here." Tsuna could sense her scowl underneath the extreme get-up. "Don't you have anything else to wear?"
"Being comfortable in your skin is the absolute number one rule in getting through life, sweetheart." Tsuna smiled pleasantly. "Sticks and stones may break my pretty white bones, but words will never hurt me. Run along now. I'll be waiting."
M.M didn't bother him with a response other than another exasperated sigh. She walked past him, her floral perfume tickling his nose delicately, and ordered the smoothies. Although bratty as she was, she didn't look back once to give Tsuna any more satisfaction than he needed, but it just amused him even more.
The Mango-Acai was already halfway finished by the time they reached the 23rd floor where the suites were. M.M kept some distance from Tsuna, and he could feel her eyes on him while he slurped the smoothie dry. It wasn't bad, a nice blend of sweetness and tanginess. "I'll pay you back," he said cheerily as they stepped out of the large elevator. The soft jazz from inside faded when the doors closed behind them.
"Whatever," M.M said. "I expect good results while we…work together."
Tsuna smiled at the brief hesitation. "Work together? That's nice phrase, isn't it? Camaraderie, friendship, teamwork—who doesn't like teamwork?"
"What are you—Never mind. Forget it." M.M quickened her pace before stopping in front of a door and scanning her keycard, creating a small trill. "Get in."
Tsuna glided past her without missing a beat, but his lips twitched into a small smile anyways. "No problem. This is quite a cozy kidnapping. I applaud you."
M.M sputtered indignantly behind him. "This isn't—You're—I—Ugh!"
Tsuna nodded solemnly. "I sometimes render myself speechless, too. It happens, Carrot Top."
He looked around the large suite, which was furnished with brown leather sofas, white chandeliers, a flat-screen TV, expensive oak tables, and an impressive view over the city from large windows. It was neat until he saw the slew of empty soda bottles, beer and bags of chips on the brown carpets leading to the dining table in an otherwise unused kitchen. And at the table were two out-of-place young men. If Tsuna was surprised at the duo being M.M's so-called friends, he didn't show it (more like he had no energy to feel much of anything at this point because sleep-deprivation wasn't a nice friend and he wanted to get this over with).
"Excuse the intrusion," Tsuna said, plopping down at the table like he belonged there. "You must be M.M's merry band of minions. I'm sure you're both well-acquainted with who I am but let me return that pleasure. You are…?"
The two men stared at him for a moment, one showing just a sliver of surprise in his normally blank purple eyes and the other unable to disguise his skepticism.
"This the guy?" the blond said, his lips curled up in a clear sneer. He wore a sleeveless green hoodie and sweatpants. "You sure he ain't like, a poser or something?"
Tsuna's eyes lingered fleetingly on the large scar over the other's nose, stretching from cheek-to-cheek; it added a nice feral touch to his rough image rather than detracting it. Then again, there were models who were still in the spotlight despite their "physical defects" as the critics would say: Xanxus, Lal Mirch, Chrome, and so on. Tsuna simply thought every imperfection was just another perfection on a person's visage, but no one paid for his thoughts, did they?
"I apologize for his behavior, Sawada-san," the other man said, taking off his large headphones and draping them over his neck. With a white beanie, he sported a black-and-white cashmere sweater over a graphic T-shirt and some jeans. The suite was a bit colder than the hotel lobby.
There was a curious barcode tattoo on his left cheek and Tsuna wondered about the story behind it. Instead of asking, he sipped the last of his Mango-Acai, unashamed with the shrill noise he made sucking on air. The blond grimaced but worked on chewing on a stick of peppermint gum.
"I'm Kakimota Chikusa and he's Joshima Ken."
Ken scowled at the other man. "Why the hell would you give him our names like that?"
Chikusa didn't bother him with a reply, which seemed normal between them. Tsuna's lips twitched upwards. "It's only common courtesy, something that you might not understand, Joshima Ken-san." He took big satisfaction in seeing Ken flinch.
M.M appeared from the bedroom, having removed her disguise, and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. She looked between the three men suspiciously as she twisted the cap open. "You idiots better not be screwing this up," she said.
Ken blinked before his face morphed into a scowl. "You're the one who told us to search for a fucking ghost."
Tsuna's smile didn't reach his eyes, though even with the sunglasses on to hide his eyes from view, the odd trio still watched him warily. "The reason ghosts exist in the first place is because they're dead, and I would've preferred to stay that way if Carrot Top here hadn't stuck her nose where it didn't belong."
Ken wrinkled his nose, but his grin betrayed him. "Carrot Top?"
M.M narrowed her eyes. "Don't even try."
"I'm not finished," Tsuna said a little too cheerfully. Chikusa didn't stray his gaze from him, a little bolder and more sensible than the other two, observing him as a prey would an unexpected predator. "Since there was a little bump on our little roads—completely separate by the way; you have your own car and I have mine—we're going to have to fix it, right?"
"We get it," Ken said, leaning back on his chair and chewing his gum noisily more out of restlessness than on being rude. "We won't tell anyone, geez."
Tsuna made an effort of looking him up and down slowly. "Yes, as if there's anyone you can tell it, I'm sure."
Ken glared at him, and Tsuna realized how fun it was to get a reaction out of him. He wondered if the other two thought the same. "The hell does that mean?"
"I'm speaking Japanese, aren't I?" Tsuna said, sipping his smoothie. "Please, settle on the same wavelength and ride the waves, dear."
Ken flushed. "W—What did you just call me? Are you a fa—"
Chikusa none-too-subtly kicked Ken's leg under the table, making the blond yelp, but Tsuna took it all in stride. "A fabulous human being?" he said, showing some teeth. Ken shifted in his seat, his eyes flickering down to his bag of chips. "Well, I wouldn't go that far but I'm glad that you can pick out the gem out of the shams. I'm flattered. Now, moving on to the more adult things, we're going to have to go over damage-control."
"I told them already," M.M said, trying to save some face. She shrunk when Tsuna turned his head towards her, though his eyes remained on Chikusa's black laptop behind his sunglasses. "They—They're idiots but they're not that stupid."
Ken scowled at her. "The hell is that supposed to mean?" He rocked his chair back and forth aggressively, the motion soundless on the tiled floors. Tsuna wondered how long it'd take for him to fall over. "Well, you're fucking welcome, bitch. We got what you wanted and look where that got us. I told you, Kakipi, I fucking told you we shouldn't have listened to her. Now we got this—this"—Ken waved his hand shamelessly at Tsuna—"guy here for what the bitch told us to do."
"Ken," Chikusa said, but it was useless. Ken was already lost to his anger and it'd take a while for him to get out.
Passionate, Tsuna thought idly while Ken continued ranting at M.M, who didn't take it without screaming back, too.
"Well, you're welcome for paying your rent, dumbass!" M.M said, her purple eyes looking venomous. "How many times was it already? 10? 15? Is it my fault for asking something you and Chikusa can actually do? That's what a favor is, you stupid jackass!"
"You said he'd never know!" Ken said, narrowing his eyes and baring his teeth, which almost looked like canines. "And you fucked that up, too!"
Chikusa sighed quietly under his breath, the only break from his stony façade, and typed something in his laptop. His fingers were nimble across the keys, comfortable and almost elegant. He fixed his glasses momentarily before addressing Tsuna, "Your information has been deleted from our history. You can continue being a ghost again. I apologize for their behavior."
Tsuna shook his head as he slipped off his sunglasses and dangled them precariously from his fingertips. He pointed one of the ends at Chikusa. "Oh no, no, no, Kakipi-kun. That's not how this works." Chikusa's brow slightly twitched at the nickname but he remained quiet. "You see, I came here to lay out some groundwork for the three of you. Don't you feel honored that I came personally to see to it? I bet you all do." Tsuna pointed his sunglasses at M.M, making her flinch. "I went over the basics with Carrot Top here, but I'm going to make sure that it's hammered in right. Any objections?" Tsuna smiled, his eyes glinting under the lights. He didn't wait for anyone to respond. "Wonderful."
He took his time sipping his smoothie, letting the cool drink give him some boost of energy. The trio of dumb, dumber, and dumbest watched him with bated breath; the air thrummed with trepidation that seemed to seep from their pores.
"You all have information that should've been 20 feet in the dirt," Tsuna finally said after a moment of feigning deliberation. "I won't ask you how you managed to find them but I will ask that you erase any possible evidence that they exist. You can do that, can you?" The question was directed at Chikusa, the more rational one, and he got a small nod in response. "Fantastic. Now, you and you, Lemon Lenny and Carrot Top, I—"
"What the hell did you just call me?" Ken said, slamming his fist on the table. He froze when Tsuna turned his eyes on him, pinning him to the spot. Without the sunglasses, Tsuna looked more bare, open, but all the more vicious in a terrifyingly pleasant way that always worked best on everyone despite the dark circles under his eyes.
"—would appreciate it if neither of you opened your mouths to anyone about what you know," Tsuna continued without a hitch. "To you and everyone else, I'm Kato Tsunayoshi. I never discriminate, you see. Man's equality and all that. Oh, don't get your panties in a twist, Carrot Top. It's not my fault human is human and not hu-woman. Semantics aside, I'm being very serious here. One peep out of any you and you know what'll happen." Tsuna's smile took on a nastier turn, making the temperature drop several degrees. "I've always wanted ghost minions."
The threat wasn't lost to the trio. All three of them nodded. Tsuna smiled sunnily as he slipped his sunglasses back on. "Great, lovely chat. That's all for today. Thank you for listening to my TED Talk. Until next time then."
M.M walked him to the door but didn't linger long enough to watch him leave for the elevators. As usual, Tsuna just let the skittish attitude slide off him like water on wood and made his way out of the hotel to his car without a hitch.
After sending pictures of the sample dress to Hotaru and taking a long shower, Tsuna made himself comfortable on Haru's lap while stuffing his mouth with rice crackers. He turned his head to the TV screen, which showed some action movie he forgot the name of. Guns and explosions created a cacophonous symphony in a scene. Tsuna just stared at it in boredom while the actors did some impossible maneuver on the highway with their stolen cars.
"I thought this was"—he cleared his throat, pitching his voice higher to mimic Haru crudely—"the most popular action movie last year. Really, I read it and it had good reviews."
Haru snorted and held the bag of crackers above her head to make sure Tsuna didn't take anymore. "It's not my fault nothing pleases you."
Tsuna smiled languidly, lacing his fingers daintily over his stomach. "No, of course not. E for effort though."
"You're impossible."
"And you're lovely."
They settled into comfortable silence after that, minus the yelling and screeching tires from the screen. At least, the actors were hot. Tsuna's phone buzzed in his pocket with a text from Spanner: its fine. did u see the news about season 6?
Tsuna's fingers flew across the keyboard, making small clacking sounds: season what now?
sugar angels might get another season.
Before Tsuna could respond to that gem, a series of beeps came from the door before it opened. Haru squeaked indignantly, almost dropping the bag of snacks over Tsuna's face.
"I meant to change that," he said dryly, referring to the keycode. He didn't get up to see who it was. There was only one other person who managed to get through last time and M.M frankly didn't have the balls to do it again (literally and figuratively).
"You ignored my call this morning," Reborn's voice floated through the living room. Haru had muted the TV when the man had entered.
"What a surprise." Tsuna reached for the remote to unmute the TV until a large hand gripped his wrist. He looked up then, catching a whiff of some expensive cologne. Reborn stood over him, a tall, looming shadow, and his eyes seemed darker under the brim of his famous fedora. He wore a sleek black pinstriped suit that hugged his body nicely and a goldenrod tie. "Sorry but this isn't the party venue and you're very much not invited to this one."
"Get up," Reborn said, ignoring Tsuna's jabs.
The brunet shook his hand from Reborn's grip but the man didn't let go. "I really don't want to see you in court but it's becoming more likely."
"Is there something you need, Reborn-san?" Haru said tentatively, her hand drifting to Tsuna's shoulder as a comfort. She deserved the moon and the stars, truly. Probably the world.
Reborn glanced at her and his lips curled elegantly into the perfect smile befitting a serpent. "Yes, I need Tsuna to come with me." He looked down at Tsuna again, his dark eyes gleaming. "As my shield, if you don't mind."
A/N Writing Runway!Tsuna is very therapeutic. :^D
A bunch of things are kind of simmering underneath the seams but it's just getting started, peeps. I'm not sure if I wrote Chikusa and Ken accurately—it's been a while so I tried to give them as much character from what I remember—but I hope they're okay, lol.
Murasaki isn't a real fashion magazine (from what I've researched anyways) and it means "purple" in Japanese.
Reborn wasn't supposed to appear but alas, here he is.
Thank you so much for reading! I hope to see you again in the next chapter.
Have a lovely day~
Little Miss Bunny