So, on today's "I'm a total idiot, who thought that it would be great to let me free in the world", I have no filter on my thought process. Like, I could be surrounded by total strangers and I'd still explain (with a lot of details) the latest smut I wrote.
And something like that happens every day. Every bloody day.
Like yesterday, my friend was telling me that he really liked some building facade and the only thing that I thought would be great to say was this brilliant "I don't like it, it looks like a vagina."
Cue friend's surprised and daresay shocked face. That being said, I made a salaryman choke on his spit and then laugh so loudly that he cried.

And that's it for today's nonsense. Here's the chapter.

[秋] : Fall.

Reborn didn't look surprised by the teenager's scream and raised an amused brow while he cupped his chin. His hat was still twirling around his finger and the boy pursed his lips when he noticed it.

"You don't know what to write?" the adult repeated with a mocking chuckle. "I think that it's instead the exact opposite, No-Good-Tsuna. I ate your writing, don't forget it."

"And how could that be related to this!" the brown haired boy growled while he pointed at the crumpled sheet. He pushed his chair away from the man and stood with an annoyed huff.

Tsuna looked at the adult and was tempted to growl when he realized that the latter still wasn't taking him seriously. Even if he had seen Reborn eat the words of his text, Tsuna forgot soon enough his first impression about the man (a threat that could eat him) and instead chose to attack. Strangely enough, the normally calm and passive Sawada Tsunayoshi could feel his blood boiling in his veins whenever he looked at the man in black and that little fact was enough to rekindle his hatred and distrust towards the adult.

"In everything," Reborn smugly smiled and it was enough to fuel Tsuna's anger. "Since I have tasted your writing, I can tell that you have potential. Of course, before you even reach your full potential, you'll have to get rid of all the biases, prejudices and all kind of mistakes that seem to litter and obstruct your writing..."

"Wha... What?" Tsuna choked on air and he abruptly sat on his chair. He couldn't follow where this was going. In fact, he simply couldn't understand what Reborn was doing or saying.

"You," Reborn declared as he pointed his finger (still twirling the hat) at the teenager's chest, "No-Good-Tsuna, will be my author!"

A heavy silence followed suit while the two breathed calmly. The happy screams of the athletic clubs members faintly echoed in the classroom and the familiar chime of a bicycle could also be heard.

"Ah?!" Tsuna ended saying without even moving an eyelash. His face was the perfect representation of disbelief while the adult's was more of an incredibly annoyed expression.

"Honestly," Reborn sighed as he shook his head in exasperation. "I end sealed for some centuries and what happens? The societies change so much that men don't write anymore with their own hands! And if they do, it's only to write boring reports or meaningless dictation..."

During his long spiel, the adult had gotten fired up and ended his diatribe by moving his arms with emotion and slightly panting. His face had finally shown some kind of emotion and Tsuna found himself entranced by the way those dark eyes glinted in anger and indignation.

"How could I even eat those unappetizing things?" the adult lamented with a slight disgusted scowl.

Tsuna kept silent, still watching with rapt eyes the different emotions that the man was showing for once.

"And the little writers I've met were so stuck-up and vain," Reborn grimaced and glared daggers at the teenager's desk. The boy wisely decided to stop moving and breathing so he wouldn't end being the receiver of the adult's ire. "It would be better to be fasting than to eat their pompous texts..."

His hand ended suddenly falling harshly on the crumpled sheet and Tsuna was startled by the sudden sound that slightly hurt his sensible ears.

"And that's why I've decided to make you my author," the man concluded with a smug smirk. "As you're a total dunce in Japanese, I can remodel you into the perfect author..."

Tsuna swallowed nervously and noticed that Reborn's dark eyes had taken a hungry glint. The latter hadn't lied when he had told him that he preferred not eating. However, something was still disturbing the teenager.

"But," he asked in a soft voice. "What are you?"

Reborn looked with a bored face at the hat that he was still twirling around his forefinger. Then, he put the hat on his ruffled hair and took a chair that had been on another desk and put it on the floor before he sat backwards on it. The man leaned his chin on the back of the chair and watched with rapt attention his future author's curious and contrite face.

"Isn't it obvious?" he answered with an amused chuckle. "I'm a demon..."

Tsuna pursed his lips and looked down, defeated by the man's extremely straightforward answer. The snap of fingers shook him away from his daze and the teenager widened his eyes when he noticed that a blank sheet of paper had been put on his desk, next to a shiny pen.

"Go on," Reborn purred with a hungry glint in his eyes. "Write."

"About what?" Tsuna asked timidly while he took the pen in his shuddering hand.

"What do you think, No-Good-Tsuna," the adult filliped the teenager's forehead. "Describe me a winter night."

Lulled by the deep voice of the man who had presented himself as a demon, Tsuna tightened his hold on the pen and began to write on the blank page. His eyes narrowed in determination and he thinned his lips. While at the beginning, he stumbled a bit and had to sometimes stand up to look at a dictionary for some kanji that he had miswritten, he soon got more confidence. The tip of his pen began to run freely on the sheet, writing clumsily yet quickly the words and progressively making the text take life in the ink.
Finally, after two hours, just when the bell began to ring in the empty school to announce the closing doors, Tsuna straightened his back with a tired sigh and let go of his pen. The pen rolled on the desk until it fell on the floor with a small clang. The teenager looked up and met the demon's attentive gaze. The latter had stayed silent during the whole two hours, waiting for the teenager to finish writing, and when he realized that the brown haired boy had finished, he yawned.

Then, he stretched his hand and took the sheet of paper where the ink was still drying. His dark eyes began to move over the text, reading the sentences with a slight qualm. Then again this was supposed to be his meal.

« She doesn't make a sound, her immaculate coat billowing in the harsh wind.
Her pale hair whips around her and she walks to his side. She kneels, her eyes softening, her hand stretched and yet not touching his red lips. Her shyness forces her to stay still and the night surrounds them in her dark mantel. Finally, she makes a daring moves and puts her coat on his shivering shoulder.
The man gasps, surprised and feels her warmth lasting on the coat. He diverts his eyes whenever she tries to meet his gaze. But she is a daring one under that cold appearance and she easily seduce him until he ends in her arms. The red lips parts as they kiss her white lips.
When the night makes her reverence and lets the sun lead the way, they found the young shepherd's body under the snow, a soft smile on his frosted lips. »

The adult raised his brows and an amused smile made its way on his lips.

"Hm," he commented lightly while he raised to sheet to his lips. "This would do it for now... Even if you really need to learn about versifying correctly..."

Then the kanji began to glow and Tsuna observed with fascination the demon eat.

"Well, I'll count on you to feed me," Reborn whispered once he finished eating.

Tsuna nodded absentmindedly, his mind still dazed by the small miracle that he had gone through, and it was like that that he accepted the pact with the devil who would end up taking his existence by storm.

Just so you know, the original version had a poem (written by a reader) but I simply couldn't translate it because English poems and French ones aren't at all similar... Thus the strange (and shitty) text up there. If someone wants to put a poem there, please do so. I can't write poetry to save my life.

PS: First arc is finished. Next chapter is never.

Anon's answer:

Great: Something like that but I'll never be able to write it. I'm just horrible at poetry...

And now, to end the chapter on a lighter note, a little question: How do you feel about flashbacks?