Arc III – If I Only Had A...


11. Antivenin

Introducing Dino Chiavarone to parkour is the funniest idea Reborn has had in years. It's almost as hilarious as the Arcobaleno's expressions when they saw her in a dress, all those years ago.

She maintains her cool outwardly; the only hints of her amusement are the laughter in her eyes and slightest upwards curl of her lips. Leon, currently in the form of a video camera, plus accompanying tripod, of course, is no less amused, and can afford to show it.

This is priceless! Promise me you'll let me watch the recording sometime, Ren? Oh, an even better idea: promise me you'll play this tape at his graduation party—no, his wedding!

...well, if he lives that long.

"He'll live that long." I'll make sure of it. I'll drag him back from the void itself in order to kill him again for the embarrassment if he doesn't. "And of course I will. Blackmail like this exists to be used."

Bang! A bullet from a rather more conventional handgun than Reborn typically uses impacts behind Dino when the blonde starts to slow from fatigue. "No dilly-dallying, Pipsqueak Dino! You're the one who wanted to spend today running!" Reborn calls out, her tone gleeful; the teen had attempted to escape a lesson on Mafia politics earlier this morning. Unfortunately for Dino, with Reborn everything is a lesson.

Reborn keeps a careful eye on her reluctant student; it wouldn't do for the boy to seriously injure himself or suffer from heat exhaustion. She could heal such things easily, but why should she have to?

The boy is doing fine so far, so she turns her attention to a different issue. "Hm. So, who do you think our intruder is, Leon?"

Probably a fan of yours. They're not discreet enough to be a potential rival, or one of the Arcobaleno. Not to mention you'd know if it were the latter, besides Mammon. And nobody would be stupid enough to try and eliminate the Chiavarone heir this blatantly, not with us watching.

"I think so as well. And if they were here for Dino, they would have made a move when I pretended to leave earlier."

Crash! Dino trips over his own feet, catapulting himself face-first into a wall. He peels himself away with a tired groan. Watching from beyond the finish line, Romario frets about his young master's health, checking and double-checking the contents of the large first aid kit at his side.

Splat! Dino, having just regained his footing, dodges out of the way of a flying— is that a takeout container for Chinese food? The container of Chinese food is followed by several opened cans of what looks like grape soda, although the purple fumes that waft from the spilled liquid certainly contradict that theory.

"Interesting." While poison is hardly an uncommon approach, there is only one known user of Poison Cooking currently residing in Italy— a relatively young Academy student with the apt moniker of Poison Scorpion Bianchi.

I wonder what she wants.

Reborn has read the teenager's Academy file, and even peeked in on a few of her training sessions. The Arcobaleno Sun does so for all aspiring hitmen that show potential, especially those interested in freelancing. It's good to keep an eye on the new talent. And there are so very few women in the business, despite the changing societal attitudes towards the 'gentler sex' over the past several decades... How could Reborn not lend a hand?

At this point, Dino is flailing dramatically, jerking out the way of the projectiles but, surprisingly, moving much more quickly towards the finish line. Reborn's smile becomes decidedly sinister, "Oh, look, Leon. Dino functions better under duress... the lethal sort." The chameleon just cackles in response.

Once Dino has finally reached the end of the simply godawful obstacle course that his tutor acquired from some hell dimension and collapsed into a sweaty, panting mess, Reborn leaves her student in Romario's capable hands. Instead, she strides over to the bushes where she'd glimpsed a flash of pink when Dino had been under assault.

Now, to learn why Poison Scorpion Bianchi decided to interfere with my lesson...

"Ciaossu. Did you lose something, Miss?" Like what little sanity you had originally, perhaps?

"Aa! N-no." A blushing girl scurries out from behind the greenery, and for the first time, Bianchi meets the World's Greatest Hitman face-to-face. "I'm— I kind of wanted to meet you. And, well, it's just that walking disaster of a boy is unworthy of being Reborn's student." The obvious blush tinting her cheeks an adorable shade of pink, the adoration in her eyes...

She's not a bad liar for her age.

"Interesting. But tutoring Dino is a job," is the professional hitman's noncommittal reply.

"Umm. Well, also— that is—" The pinkette stumbles over her words for a few seconds, and then takes a deep breath, visibly trying to settle herself. "You're... You're Renato Sinclair, aren't you?"

That is not a name Reborn expected to hear again outside of a Mafia-themed history lecture.

Supposing I was that person, what would you do?

"Ah. I'm afraid you've mistaken me for someone else." Reborn winks, her smile both playful and flirtatious, a blatant demonstration of Mafia seduction at its finest. She's shameless, really. "Unfortunately, I'm not Renato Sinclair. Though, it would be flattering to be admired by such a charming young lady. I can't even point you in the right direction to find him; the man disappeared decades ago. Before I claimed his title." She studies the girl carefully, the calculating look in her black eyes belying her suspicion.

Bianchi glares back defiantly, despite her quivering hands, and starts detailing exactly how she came to said conclusion. "— And finally, there's this!" She brandishes an old photograph, and Reborn is faced with a nineteen-year-old Timoteo di Vongola and Renato Sinclair, the latter complete with curling sideburns and rakishly tilted fedora, sporting a debonair smirk.

Well, she's right. The resemblance is obvious, though I suppose I could always claim to be relative...

I wonder where she found that; there aren't many photographs of Renato at any age.

The edges of the photograph are worn due to excessive handling, and there is an obvious crease in the middle where it's been folded sometime in the recent past. "All of the Arcobaleno are adults, aren't they? It's a little-known fact that none of the Arcobaleno have changed over the last several decades. At all. Reborn is... You are Renato Sinclair. I— I can keep quiet, but I need a favor. P-protection," the girl stutters out.

You're a very observant child, aren't you? And good at ferreting out information. Too brash, though. Dangerous, in this line of work.

Click.The ominous sound of a gun being cocked causes the pink-haired teenager to blanch. Or perhaps it is the sight of a dark green weapon pointed in her direction? "Hmm. Or I could kill you, right now, and put an end to any outlandish rumors." Although Reborn's tone is cold, the innocuous smile doesn't change, "...Something I might say if you weren't talking complete nonsense, Miss Poison Scorpion."

"No! Please, just— just hear me out! I really, really need your help." The girl is shaking, tears glimmering in her eyes, but refuses back down. Reborn finds herself a little impressed by the steel in her spine.

You are a reckless, silly child, but I suppose I have the time to indulge you. And it isn't very gentlemanly to make a lady cry...

"Very well. Far be it for me to make such a beautiful young lady cry." Unintentionally, at least. "Despite your poorly thought out attempt at blackmail... Is there something I can do for you?"

"Thanks! Thank you, really. From the beginning, then." Bianchi takes a few measured breaths, once again visibly trying to calm herself and boost her confidence. "Although I'm officially the heiress of the Family, my relatives would rather it be my cousin, Adi. That is, Adriano. He's a bore, but whatever. They'd probably even prefer my younger half-brother, despite the fact he's run away from home. I don't have a problem with that. At least, I would step aside for Hayato, if he actually wanted the position, but..."

"You're being pressured to pair off with someone appropriate and marry as soon as possible in order to make you ineligible to take the headship." Reborn deduces, "While I am quite flattered by your proposal, considering," she gestures at her fragile-looking, toddler-sized body, "I would be a poor choice for such a thing."

"N-no, wait! I mean— ah— no offense, but I need a relationship with someone impossible to intimidate or remove through less savory means." The pink-haired girl smiles dreamily, "Ohhh~! A doomed, hopeless love!"

Reborn blinks, expression sobering instantly. How nice. Thank you so much for the reminder that my interactions with everyone I encounter are irrevocably shaped by this curse. The false warmth drains from her voice, "What's in it for me."

Bianchi flushes in embarrassment. "Ah." After a few seconds of awkward silence, it's obvious she didn't think her plan through this far.

Amateur. Reborn thinks with an internal sneer, even as she concedes that she can't really blame the girl. This was obviously a plan born of desperation; Reborn is hardly known to be a kindhearted, agreeable sort.

"Never mind. Hold still for a moment."

Leon shifts into the shape of an oversized magnifying glass. Unblinking black eyes peer through at the girl, eerily perceptive. Bianchi visibly struggles not to shrink back at being so closely scrutinized, managing to stay still as requested.

Multiple flame affinities? Well, well. Cloud and Storm, both strong. A touch more of the former than the latter. Excellent... it might be worthwhile to arrange an introduction. She's not a suitable match for Dino, but—Hm. And it would be easy enough for her to disappear into the Varia, if that becomes necessary. Good.

"I suppose we can work something out."


12. On Thin Ice

"We're stopping for now, Pipsqueak Dino."

The boy topples from the tightrope he's been attempting to walk on, collapsing into a boneless heap. It's a short drop— only five feet. Thump-thump-thump. The textbooks that he'd been trying to balance on his head land on his sore body, eliciting a pained groan. "Mercy..." As Romario is busy elsewhere working on detangling the Chiavarone finances, no mercy is forthcoming.

"Water break." The hitman replies, and beams the boy in the face with a plastic water bottle. At least the kid now knows better than to chug. Progress!

"Get up. Today, I've arranged for you to meet someone interesting. They'll be here soon."

In five, four, three—

"Reborn, why the hell are you training the Chiavarone brat in the middle of nowhere?" Reborn suppresses a smile at the familiar voice of her teenaged Sky.

It's not truly the middle of nowhere, through Dino doesn't know that. They're located just a few miles from the Chiavarone manor. Regardless, Reborn is happy to play along. "Well, I was considering ditching him in the woods. A survival exercise," is her blasé response. Dino wails in horror, trying to scramble to his feet to salvage at least some face. Reborn turns to face their guests. "Ciaossu, Xanxus. Lussuria."

Xanxus grumbles something derogatory under his breath in reply, but Reborn can sense that the relief she feels on seeing her Sky for the first time in months is mirrored.

Lussuria, on the other hand, smiles widely, "Reborn-senpai! I'm glad Boss agreed to take me along; it's always good to see you."

"Likewise." She must be studying Japanese, Reborn thinks. Varia operatives were strongly encouraged to continue learning. That encouragement comes in the form of a strong 'excel or be killed' mentality fostered in all members. Stagnation means death.

"Ah, right. Xanxus, the reason I asked you to visit." The smile on Reborn's face can only be described as unholy. "Meet Dino Chiavarone, your new, temporary... sparring partner. Dino, this is Xanxus of the Vongola, my previous student and current leader of the Varia." The fact that Xanxus is her godson and her Sky is, frankly, none of the Chiavarone's business.

"Shitty horse-brat." Xanxus bares his teeth in a parody of a smile, his body language becoming distinctly predatory. "Squalo says hello."

Dino, sporting a rather unhealthy pallor, stutters, "V- Varia?! S-s-spar..?" and faints, dead to the world.

"Knockout." Reborn pipes up in a sing-song tone, obviously amused by her student's reaction.

Glancing back to his Sun with a smirk, Xanxus asks, "Enjoying yourself?"

"Dino requires an enthusiastic, hands-on approach." Very much so; this kid is so fun to tease. "I do miss having more technically challenging missions, however."

"...He's not even close to Quality."

"Not yet, but it's only been a year. He's actually showing a rather phenomenal rate of improvement, considering. And he works best under duress." And you, my Sky, are an excellent danger to test him against, since you have skill and restraint enough not to hurt him too badly.

Xanxus snorts, and leans down to scoop Dino up by his collar as soon as the younger teen opens his eyes, having regained consciousness. "Alright."

"Don't die too quickly." Reborn offers this advice with a cheery wave, much to Dino's despair as Xanxus drags him several feet away, putting some distance between them and the pair of Suns.

Laughing raucously, Lussuria melts into a cross-legged position, sitting beside Reborn. "You have a mean sense of humor, senpai."

"I'm sure I have no idea of what you're talking about, Luss-chan. Japanese?" The pair slips into casual conversation, with the occasional coded reference regarding what they want to teach the younger Suns in their division next. Through it all, Reborn keeps an eye on her Sky as he plays with Dino; it wouldn't do to have her annoyingly fragile student crippled.

Xanxus starts off with some mild intimidation, circling his prey like a lion on the prowl, just the slightest smirk on his lips. Dino is so out of his depth it's hilarious. Reborn quickly convinces Leon to shift into a camera and take an incriminating photograph or twelve.

Next comes hand-to-hand; while Reborn has managed to beat the very basics into Dino, it's still a massacre. Martial arts are Xanxus' second favorite fighting skill. Her Sky practically steamrolls the younger man. Then Reborn 'motivates' Dino into standing back up, and Xanxus does it again, this time with Dino armed with his whip. And then again, but this time with Xanxus taking potshots at Dino with his guns at a distance. And then again. The cycle continues well into the afternoon.


Once Dino is dismissed for the day and has staggered away, Reborn leads Xanxus to her suite in the Chiavarone manor. A quick and discreet conversation with her insect allies proves that no one has entered the rooms in her absence, not even the staff, as per her request.

Satisfied, she leads Xanxus into the living room and gestures for him to take a seat—nodding towards a large, plush chair. "Make yourself comfortable."

Lussuria takes a position outside the living room with a wry smile, leaving her Boss and the older Sun with some semblance of privacy.

Xanxus obligingly settles on the chair, one leg thrown over the other, every inch of him the proud Boss, like a massive panther assured in his dominance over the territory. Reborn wastes no time joining him, deciding to perch on the arm of the chair. "You asked to visit for a reason?"

"Yeah." The mask of 'Invulnerable Vongola Sky' relaxes, and Reborn can read her godson's expression more easily. He is worried.

"Massimo's gone." Xanxus confides, a hint of fatigue seeping into his voice. The middle Vongola brother had hardly been Xanxus' favorite, considering the older man's close friendship with Sawada Iemitsu, but their relationship had been reasonably friendly, overall. "Old man's been keeping it quiet. They pulled him out of the water a few days ago— someone went the traditional route and gave him some nice, new cement shoes."

A scowl, fingers tapping compulsively on his knee as he thinks, "I can't tell if it's someone intentionally picking off my brothers one by one or a truly shitty coincidence. Mammon suspects the former. Hell, we all know it's the most likely scenario." Xanxus snorts in derision, "And Sawada keeps giving me squinty looks, so it's no question what he thinks, and exactly who he thinks has something to do with it."

They both know Xanxus has nothing to do with this particular mess. Despite his disdain for the Vongola Nono and the newly appointed head of CEDEF, the reasons being mostly personal with the former and professional with the latter, the youngest Vongola son believes in building a strong, unified famiglia. Murdering his brothers would be counterproductive. Besides, blood or not, occasionally tumultuous relationships or not, they're family; Reborn and Daniela raised him to respect that.

"Sawada has always mistrusted you." Reborn states with a shrug; there's nothing either Mafioso can really do about it, after all. "And while I am... unhappy to hear about your brother, I am not surprised." She is certain now. The current Don Vongola is becoming too old to lead. Most of his original Guardians have retired or passed away. Thus, the people that are supposed to advise the Don are instead conditioned to follow his lead unquestioningly, due to the age gap. Vongola Nono's decisions are left largely unchallenged. To make matters worse, CEDEF is led by a lackadaisical fool whose ability to be objective seems to be nonexistent. The Varia have been catching more of the leeches infiltrating Vongola than the people responsible for internal affairs!

"I wish I was more surprised." Xanxus sighs deeply, and Reborn shifts closer, discreetly snuggling into her Sky's side. "Even with everything that's been happening, I've talked to Federico... He's insisting that his security detail only includes his Guardians. Says it's too stressful, to have strangers watching his family all the time. Especially now that his wife is pregnant. Bullshit, considering how he was raised."

A sly smile, "So, set some Mists to do discreet surveillance. Rotation schedule, so they don't get bored." Bored Mists get creative, which is something no one needs. "Just inform Federico's Mist beforehand, so there aren't any unfortunate incidents."

"Exactly what I thought. Unfortunately, Fede knows me too well... Made me promise not to do anything sneaky, last time he helped me bail out of one of those stupid Alliance events before the dancing started."

Reborn hums noncommittally. While she taught Xanxus to keep his word, there are extenuating circumstances. As always, it's up to him to make the decision; she is here to provide advice and support. "You are the Varia Boss." You can lie, cheat, steal, and commit wholesale slaughter with the best of them... but Federico is family. Your call.

"I have some interesting ideas on what to do about this whole mess, don't worry... Although, I could still always quit, leave the job to you, and run off to join a circus, maybe become a stuntman like Skull. What do you think?" Xanxus jokes with a toothy grin, signaling the end of the serious conversation. It's like flipping a coin; one side depicts the unconquerable, rage-filled, and terrifying Varia Boss, the other a spirited, if occasionally moody and introspective teenager with a rather morbid sense of humor.

Since their harmonization just over four years ago, the relationship between the two has slowly morphed from something between 'teacher and student' and 'parent and child' into a surprisingly comfortable friendship— although both maintain their professional personas in public.

They understand each other.

I missed you, Reborn thinks, but doesn't say. "No way in hell," she delivers in a perfect deadpan instead. A few seconds pause, and she indulges Xanxus with a playful smile, "You'd get twitchy within a week, you know. Boredom."

"You're probably right." Xanxus admits, "Much as I hate the paperwork the trash— especially all those fucking Clouds— seem to delight in causing, life is better when you have a purpose."

The conversation stays light as the afternoon melts into evening, and soon, there is a soft knock at the door— a servant calling them for dinner.

Reborn springs to her feet, launching herself upwards and landing on Xanxus' shoulder. The young Boss snorts in amusement as he rises, heading towards the door, his footsteps soundless on the carpet.


13. Revolt(ing)

Reborn has been an official, full-time tutor and bodyguard for over two years now.

As she expected, the experience has been massively entertaining, even if being parted from her Sky for months at a time is trying. She channels the resultant bad mood into designing and implementing more creative training methods. Luckily, Dino proves to be an adaptable sort. Despite, or perhaps because of, the near-constant pressure from his tutor, the young man is truly beginning to shine. And while Reborn is certainly not as attached to Dino as she is to her previous students, since to her this is first and foremost a job, she has become somewhat fond of the pipsqueak.

Seventeen year old Dino Chiavarone isn't true Quality yet, but he's above the level of a Varia recruit, so long as one of his three Guardians is within his view. Predictably, Romario Abate— a Lightning nearly ten years Dino's senior— is one of those Guardians. The next person to be attracted by his Sky Flames is one Maria Rossi, the daughter of a loyal Chiavarone Mafioso, a pretty and relatively easygoing Rain that favors knives as her weapon of choice. Dino is very obviously infatuated with the girl, and Reborn exploits this fact with ruthless abandon. The last and youngest member of the group is Bono, a relatively nondescript fifteen year old with brown hair and eyes, a Storm that Dino met at the Academy.

Today, after running them ragged in the morning, Reborn has cajoled the four into a no-holds-barred, free-for-all spar. Partially for her own amusement, partially to teach Dino and his Guardians to be able to call on their Flames and fight no matter the level of exhaustion.

It happens just as she's about to call for a break—Bono in particular is flagging badly.

Pain.

Reborn closes her mouth with a click, repressing a shudder. Only once has she felt something worse: when her body was forcibly compressed into its current size.

Liquid nitrogen boils through her veins— burning, cold, pain— centered at a familiar spot in her chest. Xanxus?! A flash of rage that isn't her own, and then a feeling of exhaustion as the anger drains away, leaving only an empty sort of resignation. The cold overtakes her.

No, the cold is overtaking her Sky.

Reborn's thoughts race, lightning quick and not altogether rational, colored by her uncharacteristic worry. Something has happened to Xanxus. I knew the Varia were planning something to help wash the pink out of Timoteo's eyes, but... Damn, I should have pressed harder for details!

Xanxus, you— Idiota! Fucking King of the Trash! Stupido! What did you do?!

If you made an overt move against Timoteo, I should be there, watching your back, why—?

Why did you leave me behind?

Reborn's expression shifts into an unsettling blankness, eyes black as the void of space and empty of emotion. The training grounds are bathed with an oppressive feeling of malicious hunger, of desire for slaughter, as if the hitman is inches from ripping every living thing in sight limb from limb with her bare hands. A dark shadow stretches out behind her, tall and slender; it reflects the hitman's adult form.

There are only two thoughts in her mind right now— my Sky is in pain. I am going to find out who is at fault and someone is going to fucking die screaming.

Romario immediately steps between the apparent threat and his young Sky; Lightning Flames crackle to life, just barely in the visible spectrum, as he prepares to form a barrier. Slightly to Romario's left, the youngest in their group crumples to the ground in a dead faint. "Bono!" Dino trips over his friend's insensate form, but somehow manages to catch himself at the last moment, just barely avoiding a face-plant in Maria's chest. The girl in question sidesteps him handily, and places herself at the blond teen's back, hovering protectively.

The sudden spike in killing intent also startles a dozing Leon, who tumbles from his perch, but manages to land safely on Reborn's shoulder. Reborn? Ren! ...Renata!

Hearing her true name seems to bring Reborn back to her senses. A blink, and the feeling of impending doom vanishes as if it was never there, the unsettling shadow snapping back to its usual shape. "Hm. Is something wrong?" The hitman asks, seemingly indifferent to the obvious shock of Dino and his underlings.

"Dios mio!" The exclamation comes from the mild-mannered Romario, whose hands are shaking slightly even as he maintains access to his Flames. The sentiment is echoed by Maria, who mumbles a stunned 'holy shit' under her breath.

"Are you... Is everything alright, Reborn?" Dino asks hesitantly, still wide-eyed in surprise, but no longer visibly shaking.

You're still too kind, Dino. I could have easily killed you in my rage...

She lies through her teeth, forcing a smile. "Perfectly fine." The smile feels plastic, and certainly doesn't reach her eyes, but the trio becomes visibly calmer. Reborn is a superlative liar, after all. "But why have you stopped your spar? Bono has the excuse of falling unconscious, but the rest of you three..." She ignores their responses entirely, her mind elsewhere.

Once the fight has resumed and the trio is suitably distracted, she murmurs quietly to her partner, lips remaining motionless to circumvent lip reading, "Thank you, Leon. How quickly do you think we can travel back to headquarters?"

Flying? At best, it should take us five, maybe six hours... But you already knew that.

Anyway, it might be more sensible to call the Shark, or one of the others. If something happened to Xanxus, they would know. Lussuria, perhaps? It wouldn't be out of the ordinary for you to contact her. Or Mammon?

Really, Mammon would make the most sense, even if they charge you for the answer.

"You... you are correct." Control yourself, Reborn. Remember who and what you are. You cannot afford to run off half-cocked like a willful teenager. Pull yourself together.

Another stab at her chest— pain, cold and dark, so cold — Reborn forces herself to take a deep breath, burying her feelings deeper beneath the façade of the hitman. "It would be less suspicious. But, if Xanxus is—" Dying. Damn it, I can't even— as if saying the word will change anything. "If he's dying, none of them should be in a condition to answer calls." They'd better not be, or I will ensure none of them ever as much as crawls again for failing in their duties, Mammon included. Fellow Arcobaleno or not.

Call first. If no one answers...

"You're right." Mammon. As soon as I can reasonably get away.

Leon flicks his tongue, a chameleon kiss landing on his partner's cheek. Xanxus is strong. He'll be fine. For the sake of Reborn's sanity, as well as the continued survival of the Varia, and likely the Vongola as a whole, the shape-shifting chameleon certainly hopes so.


Reborn postpones the call until after dinner, forced to prioritize her student over her concerns about her Sky. Dino and his equally exhausted Guardians have retired to their rooms, Reborn having driven them well past the edge of mental and physical exhaustion, so as to ensure her privacy for the evening.

The pain in her chest has dwindled to a dull throb, but she still feels— cold-dark-lost-alone— echoes of foreignthoughts. The hitman, the most aloof and logical part of her personality, idly notes that she is experiencing at least two symptoms attributed to Sky separation or Sky withdrawal: disorganized thoughts and pain at the site she associates with the bond. Withdrawal typically happens to Guardians when a fully harmonized bond is snapped, usually due to the death of a Sky, or, far more rarely, a profound sense of betrayal that leads to dissonance between the Sky and Guardian. On the other hand, she is 'hearing' projected sensations or thoughts, which can occur with a strong harmonization, but is known to happen only when a Sky is alive but under severe duress.

Is it a hallucination? Has the snapped bond, signifying her Sky's death, sent her into denial? Can she even trust her own mind?

Secluding herself in the private rooms the Chiavarone have provided her, she scrolls through her contact list until she locates Mammon's personal number. She dials it numbly, and listens to the ringing with impatience.

"Ciao." Mammon must be truly exhausted; Reborn can actually detect fatigue in their voice.

"Ciaossu." Considering Mammon's greedy nature when she's in a good mood, Reborn chooses to be blunt. "What happened."

What did you let those idiots do? She thinks but doesn't say, because despite being a Mist, Mammon is the most sensible person in the Varia. They tend to immediately curtail the Varia's excesses when the lunatics start damaging the Arcobaleno Mist's profits.

"Xanxus orchestrated a rebellion, in an attempt to make Nono see sense... We were betrayed."

"Tell me he isn't dead." And tell me the traitors are.

"Don Vongola put him on ice... literally."

A sharp intake of breath, "The Nono recreated Vongola Primo's Zero Point Breakthrough? Send me the details on the Varia op. All of them. I'll pay your usual fee."

"There's no point," is the Mist's callous reply, "We're already suffering withdrawal. You, as well, if you're calling me. I know the news couldn't have reached the Chiavarone yet."

"Mammon," Reborn interrupts.

"Don't waste my time, Reborn. Time is money."

"Viper," she hisses, eyes narrowed in frustration, "Listen to me."

"Renato."

Mammon is beginning to sound annoyed, so Reborn tries to be as succinct as possible. "Ice or no ice, Xanxus is still alive. I'm experiencing echoes, you know what that means." Don't you dare give up hope so easily. "We will free our Sky."

"...I was not aware you were that synchronized." Her fellow Arcobaleno replies, and Reborn thinks there is a hint of hope in coloring their voice.

"I'm charging you for that information." Reborn jokes, though it falls a little flat, considering the circumstances. "Yes, I am. We are. So, please. Send me the details. Planning, operatives, casualty reports and confirmed kills, video surveillance if you can swing it— everything. I want to know who betrayed us." I am going to destroy them. We are going to destroy them.

This time, it is Mammon whose breathing reveals their surprise; that was the first time Reborn verbally acknowledged her association with the Varia, instead of just her bond with Xanxus.

"Fine. It will cost you. And it will take longer than usual... We're being watched very carefully, and will be for a very long time, no doubt."

"I, on the other hand, am a free operative, unassociated with the Varia. I have the best chance to actually analyze and use said information. Good night, Mammon. Please charge my account as needed." She hangs up, and stares at the phone, uncertain what to do with herself the rest of the night. Uncertain about many things, for once.

"Xanxus, you impulsive brat, why?"She whispers to her empty bedroom, slumping against the wall.

Just a few more seconds of weakness; she'll allow herself that much.

"Goddamn it."


News of Xanxus betraying of the Vongola reaches the ears of the Chiavarone heir within the next two days. It takes Dino a further week to find the courage to try and get answers from Reborn; the hitman has been in a particularly black mood. Regardless, Dino corners his tutor late on Sunday— the student's afternoon off.

The hitman is in the garden, glancing through some files in a Manilla folder, shoulders tense, eyes narrowed in concentration. The file disappears from view as soon as Dino approaches.

"Um... Reborn." Dino offers a tray of cookies he's liberated from the kitchen, chocolate with chocolate chunks, and then a mug of coffee, extra dark.

"Hm?" Bribery. Obligingly, she snags a cookie from the tray and starts munching, offering a distracted 'thank you' as she reaches for the coffee. What do you want, pipsqueak?

"When you were upset last week... That was because of Xanxus, right?" Reborn's stare makes Dino hesitate for a few seconds before he steels his spine, continuing, "How did you know something happened to Xanxus?"

"I heard about that 'Cradle Affair' mess the evening after it happened." Reborn replies blandly, reaching for another cookie.

Dino shakes his head in denial, taking a cookie for himself, and nibbling on it, expression thoughtful, "No, you— you definitely knew before then."

Reborn is exhausted. The strain on her bond with Xanxus is affecting her sleep. She will adapt soon, but now is far from the best time to test her patience. She doesn't feel like playing her usual mind games.

"...Mind your own business, Pipsqueak Dino." Reborn's hand tries to twitch towards her chest—that hollow, empty spot—but she forces it into a fist instead. "Are you so bored on your day off as to ask for extra lessons?"

All Skies have intuition. And Dino, though less gifted than a Vongola Sky, is still sharper than most. He has also been studying the process of harmonization extensively for the past three months. Eyes widening, Dino stares at Reborn with growing horror. "Oh. Oh. You're suffering from Sky separation. You and Xanxus..?"

Bang! A bullet hole 'magically' appears in a tree several feet behind the inquisitive boy. A lock of blond hair flutters to the ground. "It seems you will be having dodging practice for the next few days." Although her voice is neutral, Reborn's expression is unnervingly blank, and Dino shudders at the reminder of the hitman's rage that frightening afternoon. It is clear that Reborn has no interest in having this conversation now, if ever. Wisely, the teen retreats before Reborn decides to up the ante by adding handicaps; he does not want to try to dodge bullets while carrying several kilos of weight, or while handcuffed to one of his Guardians, or... just, no.

A few days later, Reborn seems to be back to her usual, sadistic self, but Dino can't help but feel that his tutor is different somehow. Less enthused about the hijinks she maneuvers her student into. More aloof.

Just— different.


14. Graduation

Dino Chiavarone is twenty-one, and a competent young Boss by any measure... so long as one of his underlings is nearby. He has collected a full cadre of Guardians. Even better, the Chiavarone are no longer in danger of bankruptcy, and rapidly clearing the red from their accounts.

Reborn considers her student and thinks, my work here is done.

She is three, and rapidly approaching sixty, though few are aware of that fact. Reborn is old enough to have reached, and surpassed, the pinnacle of her craft a dozen times over. And she has grown patient and cunning enough to wait until the most opportune moment to spring a trap.

She has a feeling that the innocuous envelope lying on her desk, the seal on it infused with familiar Sky Flames, is exactly what she's been waiting for. There is a quiet shhhick as a letter opener disrupts the wax seal. The orange Flames sputter out as the envelope is opened. She takes a moment to consider how she would feel if the source of those flames ended the same way, and fights back a vicious smile.

No.

Killing Timoteo would be too easy; they need to ruin everything dear to him, crush all of his delusions. A suitable revenge requires imagination. And she and the Varia's elite assassins, Xanxus di Vongola's Guardians, have had nearly a decade to scheme.

"I've been contacted by Don Vongola with an offer. A contract to train his successor." Reborn states coolly the following morning, and conversation at the breakfast table stutters to a complete halt.

"Eh?! But I—" Dino flails, feeling as if the floor has collapsed under him. The young man has grown used to Reborn's presence— occasional ridiculous costumes, insane shenanigans and all. Everything the hitman does is a lesson, whether Dino recognizes it at first or not, and as the Decimo Chiavarone grows into a man, he begins to understand the method to Reborn's madness. A little.

"Don't be ridiculous. Or are you saying my teaching methods have been inadequate?" Reborn narrows her eyes, just a hint of a dark aura surrounding her.

"N-no, not at all!" Dino stutters at the implied threat, "Just... I thought I had more time left. And it really won't be the same here without you, Reborn."

"Dino. You are ready." You have been ready for the last six months. Graduation time, Bucking Bronco. But— I believe in you, pipsqueak. "Don't let me down." She warns, expression severe, "Or I'll be back to give you remedial lessons."

"Right! Don't worry, Romario and Maria will keep me on the straight and narrow!" The blonde Boss laughs. The young woman mentioned, now Dino's girlfriend, reaches over to wallop him on the back of the head. Gently, of course. "Don't volunteer people for things without asking, you twit!"

The rest of the table erupts in laughter, and even Reborn unbends enough to smile at the scene. Romario, sitting to Dino's right, just hangs his head in despair.

"If it's your last day as my tutor, then we have to have a going away party!" Dino proclaims.

"Hm. In that case, I want more coffee." And coffee there is. Everything from coffee-scented candles, to chocolate cake with gooey coffee-flavored frosting, and, of course, the highest quality espresso money can buy. Reborn is in suspiciously high spirits, and Dino strongly suspects the hitman has every intention to bleed the Vongola Family dry.


15. Last Resort

Enrico has been buried for over a decade. Massimo died eighteen months before the Cradle Affair, not so long after Reborn signed the contract that made her a tutor and bodyguard for the current Chiavarone Don. Xanxus has been on ice for seven years. Federico's bones have finally been found, and quietly interred within the Vongola mausoleum. And so, Timoteo di Vongola calls Reborn into his office, asking for a favor.

"No." A stone-faced Reborn gazes back at the man who had so long ago been one of her closest allies, once again standing on the surface of the luxurious black leather chair that is set aside for Don Vongola's visitors. It is a private meeting; only Timoteo and Reborn are present, though several of the former's Guardians linger at the edges of Reborn's perception, outside of the room.

"Reborn... please, Ren."

Why, Timoteo, that almost sounds like begging. Reborn ruthlessly suppresses the urge to smile and reveal the sheer level of malice she feels towards the man that had once been her friend. Outwardly, she appears utterly unmoved. "How unbecoming," she states, her tone critical, "Are things really that dire, Nono?" Shall I shoot you and put you out of your misery?

An uneasy silence.

"Hm." Reborn knows she has the upper hand. As such, her demands should really come as no surprise to the Don. "Xanxus walks free, without any further persecution from you and yours. If the situation is as bad as you're implying, you need him leading the Varia. They respect Superbi, but the swordsman is uninterested in leading." Which should be obvious, considering the shark immediately recruited Xanxus to be his replacement. "And I want to know absolutely everything about this so-called last remaining heir."

"The latter is a given. The former... you know I can't do that."

"Then you can find a different tutor to keep your last heir alive," she answers glibly. Teeth bared in a mockery of a smile, her next words are callous, intended to twist the metaphorical knife. "And looking at Vongola's track record? I'd advise his mother to start looking for a nice, sturdy urn for his remains. And his father to consider siring another child or five. Shall I be on my way, then?"

"Why are you so stubbornly against this?" The Vongola Don winces at Reborn's glare; the motion would be imperceptible to most people. Reborn is not and has never been most people. Nono attempts to barter. "I'll ensure the loyalists in the Varia are notified of Xanxus' current location. Discreetly."

Reborn continues to stare back, unblinking. "I think you misunderstood me, Don Vongola..." There is a swell of murderous intent, and a tall, eerily familiar shadow stretches out behind Reborn's diminutive frame. "Either you free my godson while a team of the best medics you have available in this godforsaken mess you call an organization is standing by, or I walk." And then I wait, laughing as everything falls apart around your ears. We will find a way to free him eventually, even if you do not cooperate.

That's my Sky. My Sky you have locked up in your basement, Timoteo. You are so very, very lucky killing you would ruin what Xanxus had been working towards. You should be thanking whatever God you believe in that Xanxus is so loyal to the Vongola.

The door behind Reborn bursts open, admitting two of Timoteo's Guardians— the Storm and Lightning. Reborn's shadow snaps back into place, and the bloodlust simmering in the air is quelled. Mostly. Otherwise, the hitman ignores the intrusion entirely.

Don Vongola waves a dismissive hand, murmuring a few assurances to pacify his underlings. Their discussion resumes once the pair is alone again. "Fine. I'll free him. But with only you and," the Don pauses, clearly searching for a name, "Lussuria standing by to help him readjust."

"At the very minimum, myself, Lussuria, and Trident Shamal. And then only if we have access to him prior to the attempt, in order to assess the damage you have inflicted on your son."

"...I suppose that is acceptable." Faced with the immovable mountain that is Reborn, and reminded of the massive amount of guilt he feels for freezing Xanxus, Don Vongola crumples like a wet tissue.

Resisting the urge to gloat, Reborn continues the negotiation, "And the information?" Her tone is no less icy and demanding than before, though her eyes hold a glint of satisfaction at winning the concessions she truly desired.

"The last Vongola Heir is Tsunayoshi Sawada, son to Iemitsu in CEDEF. CEDEF has handled his protection detail; you can get the relevant data from them." Reliable information? From Lal Mirch and Mammon, more likely. And then from my own observations.

"Hm. So I was right; that blithering idiot is bloodline." Reborn has known that little tidbit since she broke into the Vongola family archives to research the bloodline, for Xanxus' sake.

"He's not that bad." Timoteo insists, not particularly enthusiastic in his defense of his external advisor.

That depends on what you mean by 'not that bad.'

"He's a competent soldier, but too disorganized and flighty to be a good leader." I wonder if you remember that while Lal Mirch is loyal to CEDEF, she is an Arcobaleno first. Three sons dead, Timoteo, and a fourth trapped in ice because you refused to listen, and he was forced to take drastic measures to try and make you clean house. As leader of CEDEF, Sawada is ultimately responsible for internal security... You always were terrible at math.

"I'll write up the contract. Or your lawyers can." Reborn offers, feeling a touch more accommodating now that the agreement is all but struck, "We can meet again tonight or sometime tomorrow to review the relevant details." At which point you will give me access to my Sky, if you know what's good for you.

A brusque 'acceptable,' is Timoteo's reply. It seems the Don has finally understood that, sometime in the not-so-recent past, he managed to completely alienate the World's Greatest Hitman.


Two days pass before Reborn finally has the opportunity to see her Sky.

Lussuria is currently out on a mission. Shamal is already on his way to Italy from Germany. Thus, they won't be starting the risky operation until later this week... but Reborn has waited long enough.

Having led the Sun Arcobaleno to a sub-sub-basement room with a metal door reminiscent of a high-security vault and covered in chains, Don Vongola hastily retreats back upstairs. Reborn watches him leave before turning back to the door. Coward, she thinks with an ugly sneer as she shatters the chains, tugging the remnants away and discarding them. Unwilling to face the consequences of your actions.

The metal groans in protest as she pushes the door open none-too-gently. Stepping inside, Reborn squints as her eyes adjust to the dim lighting, the water vapor in her slow, steady breaths condensing in the unnaturally cold room.

And there he is— a macabre sculpture— a raging Sky, features frozen in a pained grimace, anger obvious in the planes of his face. Xanxus is encased in ice so clear it could be mistaken for glass, the vicious-looking spikes radiating outward from his body.

For a second, Reborn's expression mirrors that of her godson. Whatever the composition of the ice the Zero Point Breakthrough actually is, I doubt it was designed to contain living things for any amount of time, let alone years. Luckily, no one is here to witness this lapse in control, not even a camera, and her rage is quickly pushed aside.

The ice is riddled with cracks. Approaching, she places a hand on the substance trapping her Sky, probing the faults gently with her Flames— the broken portions are tainted by her Sky's Flames of Wrath. Even trapped like this, you still fight?

Reborn smiles grimly; by all appearances, had she not negotiated his release, Xanxus would have fought his way free though sheer force of will within the next year or so. Still, it is obvious his Flame use is subconscious. Unfortunately, Xanxus has likely done as much damage to his body by struggling as the actual ice has. Getting back in fighting condition will be a monumental task.

"...Brat. Don't think I'll forgive you so easily." Reborn sighs, fondness evident in her body language as she pats her godson's frozen prison. She turns away, glancing around for a broken-off spike of ice to test against her Flames.

Finding a shard the size of her fist, she holds it between her palms and bathes it in the purest concentration of Sun Flames she can produce. Bright sunshine-yellow light bathes the room, chasing away the shadows, but the mass in her hands stays stubbornly inert. So I was right to insist Timoteo undo the technique himself. Her hypothesis that the ice was likely responsive only to Sky flames, perhaps even only to its creator, seems at the very least partially substantiated.

There is an answering surge of Wrath Flames from her trapped Sky, and the crimson-tinted Flames are accompanied by creaking as more of the ice is chipped away. Reborn smothers her Flames, and tosses the ice in her hands aside. "Idiot." Whether the word is meant to chastise herself or Xanxus goes unexplained.

"Hm." Let's see what I can do for you despite the Flame-inert ice. This time, her Flames bathe the icy prison with careful intent— it wouldn't do to awaken Xanxus in this condition, after all. Extensive external and internal scarring due to crystal formation within your cells... We'll have to monitor your eyes very carefully when thawing, or you might lose functionality in one, possibly both. An unacceptable amount of damage to the right lung and parts of the pericardium; I'll have to cash in a favor from Skull to help regenerate the tissue. Ugh, and he's going to be insufferable. "What a pain in the ass."


The procedure is nerve-wracking; one misstep, one aspect of the thawing and healing overlooked, could see Xanxus crippled.

Reborn and Lussuria thread their flames through the cracks in the ice, increasing output as Don Vongola deconstructs the unnatural ice created with his Zero Point Breakthrough. Their job is to limit any further damage the thawing process may cause to the Varia Boss and heal the most severe internal injuries as rapidly as possible. Shamal hangs back, sharp-eyed and wary, his mosquitoes carefully monitoring Xanxus' health, cataloguing the full extent of the Sky's injuries as they're revealed and mentally listing the resources needed for rehabilitation. A hint of Mist lingers in the air, as the doctor ensures their patient is sedated.

Finally, the last vestiges of ice are removed; Xanxus falls to his knees, body racked with shudders from the cold, gasping for breath, and still completely unconscious. Lussuria rushes to catch him; their disparate builds make the scene rather comical. Or would, were the situation not so serious.

"Out." Reborn orders once Xanxus is freed from his icy prison, weaving through the remaining ice scattered on the stone floor to approach her godson.

The old Don lingers in the doorway; several of his Guardians hover protectively behind him, glowering at Reborn's imperious tone. "Impertinent bastard," is muttered more than once, and none too quietly.

Reborn ignores them entirely, not bothering to turn to face the Vongola Nono, merely repeating, "Get out, Timoteo. You've done enough." You've done enough damage... Leave before I do something hasty.

By the end of the day, Xanxus is safely ensconced in the most secure safe-house the Varia have, as per their schemes. Three weeks after that, finally assured that her Sky is well on his way to a full recovery and that any remaining physical scarring is purely superficial, Reborn boards a plane to Japan.

Tsunayoshi Sawada, hm?


Poor Reborn; nothing is ever easy.

Still, this should make the Varia Arc particularly amusing (for Reborn and the Varia, at least). And oh, the truly evil ideas I have...

Are you having fun, my dear readers?

The next installment will take time, as I've got to refresh my memory of canon (manga-manga-manga!) and decide what to mutilate into interesting shapes and what to discard entirely.