Six.

Six days of leisurely coffee stops, uninterrupted strolls around Venice, and completed books piling up on his coffee table.

Six days of nothing.

Nothing.

Reborn was conflicted. On this seventh day, should he be thanking whatever greater being granted him this peace for some down time, or should he be on edge, treading softly, because a well-concealed bomb was eagerly ticking down to explode and disrupt the peace?

At the moment, Reborn was leaning towards the second option. He was wary of sevens, always has and always will be. Sevens were double-edged blades. The fact that the majority of people lauded seven as being representative of good fortune and power made Reborn even more skeptical. If years of being a hitman has amounted to anything, it would be that Reborn learned to be wary and take things with a grain of salt.

The week was quiet. Too quiet and it put Reborn on edge. It was as if the whole world was holding its breath, waiting for the right moment to wreak havoc.

Dammit, Reborn hadn't received a single hit request this whole week which was why he (not that he would ever admit it) was finally relieved when the tell-tale ding of a message received on his cellphone sounded.

Vongola Mansion. Nono's study. 0900 a.m.

Reborn smiled to himself. Time to blow off some steam.

"You've got to be shitting me, kora."

"You are late."

"By - 26 SECONDS, KORA!"

Reborn merely sipped his steaming cup of matcha tea that he just poured. Nono started providing fresh pots of tea in his study instead of coffee ever since he acquired a Japanese not-really daughter-in-law. Reborn wasn't much of aficionado of tea, but the Asian brews were more to his liking than the English ones. More subtle and earthy in flavor.

"I'm NOT working with him, kora."

"I feel indifferent," Reborn retorted, continuing to sip his tea unperturbed.

"Why you -"

"Colonello, please seat yourself. Don't start this meeting off with such a bitter note." Nono's words were that of someone speaking entreatingly but there was a sharp edge that left no room for argument.

Colonello was ,by nature, brash but even he in the end huffed and plopped himself on the couch across Reborn, leaving his rifle strapped to his back.

"May I remind you this office is a neutral ground. Not to mention, much of the items in this room are hundreds of years old and practically priceless."

Reluctantly Colonello slipped off the gun strap and set the gun on the table, eyeing Reborn as he did so.

"Now we can finally get this started," Nono began, smiling placatingly at the two rivals seated in front of him. "I need you to two to head a few men of mine and take out the Bandoni Famiglia."

"Bandoni Famiglia. As in the one headed by the young capo Demetrio?" questioned Colonello. He remembered the famiglia vaguely. A couple years ago, the previous head, a rambunctious fellow who despite his big talk actually led his famiglia down a quiet and undisruptive path, was murdered in an untimely fashion, leaving his only son, 12 at the time, to take over the family.

"Precisely. Though the title Capo may be one just for show, " Nono responded as he beckoned the two hitmen to approach the computer on his desk. Clearly displayed was what appeared to be a surveillance video of a group of suited men in a back alley. "These two men in the back, the one with spiked blonde hair and the older gray haired gentlemen, are - were - the left and right hands of the previous Bandoni and have now been passed on to Demetrio."

Reborn stared at the photo. He had seen the other men before. Not the Bandonis but the greasy haired men who's profiles were only visible. Oh. "And what are they doing Pidocchi Famiglia?"

"Pidocchi Famiglia?" Colonello scratched his head. "Doesn't ring a bell."

"It wouldn't,"replied Reborn. "They are a small famiglia. They fly under the radar these days, but several years ago they were accused of participating in human trafficking. There wasn't enough evidence for the accusations to stick so they went scotch free but the accusation was enough to tarnish their name so they've been maintaining a low profile. Not to mention, the Pidocchi are small and decided, by many, not worth the time or money to enact a full investigation." Colonello shot him a dirty look, probably because Reborn was showing off a bit, but Reborn paid no mind.

"Thanks Reborn. The three other men on the left are the Pidocchi storm, cloud, and mist guardians. I had Croquant do some more surveillance on the two famiglias, and they have met several times, but only once have both the heads been alone doesn't raise any suspicions, but upon further inspection, Croquant detected traces of mist flames on Demetrio as well as unnaturally glazed eyes. My assumption is," Nono closed the laptop, pulling out instead a photo of the Bandoni's Demetrio. "Demetrio is a puppet for the previous head's guardians. So I need you two to recover him and capture the guardians for further interrogation."

"I don't get why you need both of us. Sounds easy enough, kora."

"We need stealth. Other famiglias won't be happy upon hearing that a larger famiglia such as the Vongola is getting involved in the business of smaller ones. Unfortunately Croquant and Visconti, who I would have sent in your stead, are preoccupied in China, so I need a sharpshooter and someone known for their quick and quiet kills who I can rely on."

With his cards laid on the table, Nono gazed thoughtfully at the two hitmen in front of him as they contemplated the mission. Nono was no idiot. He knew these two men well having contracted them many times, but separately. They were like two pieces of flint. So similar, yet every time they came in contact, so disastrous but a definite force to be reckoned with. And Nono needed that kind of unstoppable power on his side.

"Fine," responded Colonello and Reborn simultaneously. They shot one another a glare before Colonello tacked on his trademark word to his response.

Nono smiled. So similar. "Thank you. You are both dismissed."

The heavy doors closed soundly behind the two hitmen as they left the office.

"I can't believe I got paired up with you of all people, kora. Just my luck," Colonello spoke as he kicked the carpeted floor with his military boots.

"Oh and who would you have preferred? Perhaps a certain rambunctious trigger-happy lady?" Reborn retorted, unable to stop the smirk on his face.

"As if! She ranks just below you on my list of people I'd rather kill myself than work with kora."

"So you can't work with her, but you can drive around with her?" Set the trap.

Colonello narrowed his eyes. "The hell you mean, kora?"

"She drove you to the mansion, no? Why else would she be waiting downstairs when she doesn't even have a meeting scheduled with the Nono?"

"How do you even know that, kora?"

"You didn't deny it." Not like it was all that difficult to deduce the pair arrived together. Given both Colonello's and Lal's pre-disposition to quarrel (The quarrels were really more like one-sided arguments. Lal always won.), the two were a parade on feet. Always making a spectacle of themselves, always loud enough to disrupt the dead.

"Yes!" Colonello threw up his hands in exasperation. "We just got back from a hit."

He took the bait.

"Together? I thought you'd rather die than work with her." Reborn questioned as he watched Colonello visibly get flustered as his skin darkened in pink.

"Orders! KORA!"

Almost there.

"You sure the baby didn't need his chaperon around to clean up his spills?"

"Oh I'll show you who needs the chaperon," growled Colonello as he aimed his rifle at the center between Reborn's eyes.

Without further warning, Colonello fired, the shot a deafening sound that echoed throughout the empty halls.

Reborn smiled deviously as he reached for Leon who readily transformed into a pistol in Reborn's hands.

He took the bait.

"I leave you alone for ten minutes and you already break out into a fight?"

"Sorry? Ouch, be careful will you?" whined Colonello as Lal not so nicely dabbed anti-septic onto a small cut on his face.

Lal continued as if she never heard Colonello's words of protest, moving onto another injury on his arm, blotting it with more anti-septic with the same haphazardness. "As if sorry will repair the entire east wing and compensate for the thousands of dollars of damage. And you can bet your sorry ass that it'll be coming out of your paycheck. And you, Reborn," Reborn looked away from petting Leon who let out a soft noise at the loss of contact. "Seriously, you two are like a pair of disagreeable children. And I can't stand children. Now show me your injuries Reborn."

"I don't know what your talking about."

"Stop trying to show off Reborn. You're not as invincible as you like to think you are," Lal retorted as she scanned over the hitman for an injuries. Noticing some signs of shredding on Reborn's right suit sleeve, she grabbed his forearm and it took a bit of effort on Reborn's part not to wince at the feeling of fabric grazing his raw skin, but the effort went unnoticed by Lal who gave a look that exuded 'I told you so'.

"Seriously, I should start paying a fee for all the times I have to patch you up," rambled Lal. Honestly, the only reprieve Lal ever got from was when one of them was gone on a hit, but even then, she used that time to stock up on medical supplies for the two idiots.

"We never ask you to help us, Lal," replied Colonello who was using an ice pack to nurse his swollen cheek.

Lal nodded as she studiously rolled up Reborn's sleeve. "No, but you guys would be dead if it wasn't for me.

Besides, I make a lot of money off of bets on you two and I can't lose my piggy banks."

Colonello 'tsk-ed' in response while Lal continued disinfecting Reborn's arm wound as Reborn entertained himself by playing with Leon on his free hand. After finishing one side, Lal flipped his arm so that the palm was face up to clean the inside of the arm, but before resuming her ministrations she stopped and quickly slapped her hand on Reborn's wrist which made an audible sound.

Reborn looked at Lal, cocking an eyebrow, confused as to why she stopped, and was majorly off put by the sly smile on her face. That was not normal. He searched his arm, but he saw nothing out of the ordinary except an untouched patch of raw skin and Lal's hand gripping his wrist.

Lal's smile only widened upon seeing Reborn's perplexed expression. Reborn got the distinct feeling that he would not like the reason behind he smile.

"Hey, Colonello," said Lal who continued to maintain eye contact with Reborn. She was too happy for his liking.

"What?" Colonello questioned absentmindedly. Obviously boredom was setting because he was in the process of assembling and reassembling his gun.

"I think you owe me 500 after all." The glee was thinly veiled in her voice.

The thought of losing even more money snapped Colonello to attention. He promptly discarded his gun in favor of crawling over to the smirking Lal and perplexed Reborn. When he settled in a crouching position, Lal dramatically lifted her hand of Reborn's arm like curtains opening up for a show.

And what a show it was.

Reborn couldn't believe his eyes. After over 20 years, he had given up, but blatantly in view on his forearm is something Reborn thought he would never see.

Slowly and shakily, a purple line snaked on his arm before stopping a few seconds later to resume immediately beneath the sketch.

The trio and the rest of the world seemed to hold its breath at that moment until the drawing stopped. The bomb Reborn was waiting for.

A purple fish. 'Tuna' written below.

"Oh shit, kora."

Reborn knew it. Always be wary of sevens.

A/N:

Sorry I took so long to update, but I got overwhelmed by the response! Thank you for all the follows, favs, and comments which I will get around to replying soon.

Comment and critiques are welcomed, especially if you spot any grammatical errors.