Beta'd by the cheery Insane Scriptist.
Of needs, desires and changing plans
Haru stood on the doorstep of the traditional house she knew was a holiday rental, fidgeting nervously. She knew Tsuna-kun's extended family were staying here rather than with Sawada-san, and she knew Tsuna-kun was visiting them here a lot, sometimes even overnight; Chrome-chan had told her. She'd glimpsed Tsuna-kun around town with his Grandma a couple of times since -since, since- and seen one of the other men walking around on his own, but that was nearly two weeks ago so the men might not still be here, even though Tsuna-kun's Grandma still was.
It didn't matter if they were here or not. Haru needed to talk to Tsuna-kun about the mafia simulation game and all the parts of it which hadn't stayed in the game.
-the crackle of power over her fingertips, the weight of the machete, the resistance to the swing and the hot dampness of blood on her face-
Haru shook her head firmly, dislodging the memory. It hadn't been real. It hadn't!
It might not have been a real person dying, her treacherous mind whispered, but now you know how to decapitate someone. You could do it if you wanted to. It would be so much easier than-
Haru ignored it, smile slightly fixed and bouncing on her toes, focusing on not sparking around her fingernails. Control, control, control…
The door opened, revealing the older foreign man; Haru bowed politely.
"Good afternoon sir! Is Sawada-kun here? I was hoping to talk to him, hahi!"
"Ah, Miura-chan! Do come in," the older man said warmly in very good Japanese, stepping back. "Tsuna-kun is in the kitchen."
Haru stepped smartly over the threshold, announcing herself, then quickly changed into the guest slippers and followed the older man deeper into the house She could hear Tsuna-kun already through the traditional sliding partitions -if not what he was actually saying- so when her host fell back she continued onwards, propelled forwards by the fizzing urgency in the pit of her chest and the need to give him what-for for not warning her about this!
"Tsuna-kun!"
"Hiee!"
Haru grabbed the younger boy by his shirt collar and shook him, fingertips sparking green in response to the slight flare of orange in Tsuna-kun's eyes. "Tsuna-kun you should have warned me the magic powers were real!"
"I'm sorry Haru-chan I didn't want you to know they were real because if you know about them you have to follow the secret rules!"
Haru paused, leaning backwards. "Secret rules?"
Tsuna-kun sagged miserably. "It's the real mafia, Haru-chan, and if you can use the Flames they don't give you a choice. That's why I'm moving to Italy in the new year: criminals will come after me if I don't and people would get hurt."
"But what about me, hahi?" Haru demanded, shaking him again. "I know about all those people too now! I know about the magic fire! Am I going to get kidnapped?!" She'd thought it was cute when it was Reborn playing a game -when she'd thought he was a pure and innocent baby, not an old man with a medical condition like Chrome-chan explained to her- but with the memory of blood splattered over her face and hair constantly rising to the front of her mind and Squalo-san's matter-of-fact praise echoing in her ears -and Squalo-san was a real person- it wasn't funny!
"No! No!" Tsuna-kun squeaked, waving his hands frantically. "I was hoping you'd forget about it or be like Hana and just, pretend not to see anything!"
"Calm, grandson," Tsuna-kun's grandma said from where she was standing at the kitchen counter, watching them with mild amusement in her eyes. "Miura-chan, is it? I can arrange a tutor for you, if that would help."
"Yes please, Sawada-san," Haru said gratefully, letting go of Tsuna-kun to bow gratefully. "My fingers keep sparking while I'm trying to do my homework, hahi." She paused. "Tsuna-kun you're leaving?"
"Yes? You knew I was leaving! It's not a secret!"
He couldn't leave and leave her behind to struggle with this all on her own with nobody to talk to about it! He couldn't! There's be no-one she could-!
"Deep breaths, Miura-chan, your hands are sparking," Sawada-obaa-san said firmly. Haru took deep breaths and tried to crush down the deep well of hurt and desperation so it wasn't overflowing out of her hands anymore.
"I'm sorry, Haru-chan," Tsuna-kun mumbled miserably; he looked like a sad kitten, all big pleading eyes and tousled fur, and it was so cute it made her want to coo but it also made it all hurt more because he was going away.
"Chrome-chan is going with you, isn't she?" Haru asked unhappily, because Chrome-chan had also used the fire in the live-action game and she was hanging around with Tsuna-kun all the time now. Chrome-chan didn't mind her being weird! Didn't disdain Haru for it! Tsuna might say she was a little weird, but he didn't mean it like other people did! Kyoko was a lovely cake-friend but she wasn't, she didn't-
"Yes she is, dear; I'm her guardian now."
Haru felt her lower lip wobble; her parents would never agree to let her study abroad! How would she manage without Chrome-chan, who was so wonderfully practical about all the strange things happening around Namimori and had helped her to not panic about the sparks existing for real? Had walked her through the control exercise so her parents wouldn't see? Kyoko-chan hadn't wanted to talk about any of it -was firmly pretending none of it had happened- but Haru couldn't.
"Oh Miura-chan." Sawada-obaa-san swept her up into a hug and Haru couldn't stop herself from bursting into tears; this was awful and she didn't know what she wanted! The crime stuff in the game had been terrible and scary and just, so annoying! People not following rules because they thought it was cool! People being cruel and horrible because they knew nobody could stop them! It wasn't nice or orderly or romantic or anything! But, but she didn't want Tsuna-kun to go! He was leaving her behind! Again! She didn't want to be left behind!
Tsuna-kun ran off out of the room in confusion while she was sobbing, but Sawada-obaa-san stayed and hugged her and sat down on the kitchen floor with her and rubbed her back and didn't mind the green sparks or the staticky crackles running over her hair, and Haru cried until she felt tired and empty and her face was all yucky with snot even though Sawada-obaa-san lent her a handkerchief.
"Sorry, obaa-san," she mumbled miserably, dabbing at her nose.
"None of that, Miura-chan," Sawada-obaa-san said firmly. "If you want to come, you can come; I will talk to your parents -nothing specific Miura-chan! Just to sound them out on their hopes for you- and then I will talk to Xanxus-san if I cannot make the appropriate arrangements myself. You won't be abandoned, dear girl, I promise."
Haru sniffed and rubbed her nose with the handkerchief. "Tsuna-kun is so stupid," she mumbled despairingly, "but he's sweet and I know he hates it when people get hurt. And he works really hard!" He wasn't smart but he wasn't mean either and sometimes he was just, so cool and it made her heart wobble. Smart wasn't everything! Haru would always take kindness over academic achievement.
"I know I shouldn't be encouraging you to uproot your life to chase after a boy," Sawada-obaa-san said teasingly, making Haru whine and cover her face with both hands, "but you are right that you do need support and training to make the best of yourself after this change, Miura-chan, so I will see about finding a reputable educator whom your parents will allow to take you out of the country. Give me a little time please, dear girl? They may well look rather alarming when they arrive at your door, but I promise whoever comes to care for you will make sure you get the best possible education, and also that you can visit my grandson regularly."
Haru sniffed again, blinking away the last of the tears. "They can't possibly be weirder than Squalo-san," she mumbled. Tsuna had recognised Squalo-san in the game, and when she mentioned him to Kyoko-chan in passing, she'd said she had helped him by a pretty obi back in October during the so-called 'sumo tournament' her brother had broken his arm in. And if he was real, then probably so was everyone else.
Obaa-san laughed. "He is a character, isn't he Miura-chan? Don't tell anyone, but he's very caring under all the bristling and sharp words."
Haru managed to smile. "I know; he complemented my accuracy." He'd meant it, too. He also had not belittled her for crying afterwards, which felt important. He was a scary man who shouted and was rude all the time, but he'd recognised that killing people was very upsetting and messy even though he apparently also did it for a living. The memory of the mess was worse than beheading the zombie character had been.
"Oh my; he never compliments anyone, Miura-chan, you hold onto that."
Haru giggled wetly. She suspected Squalo-san did more compliments than most people realised, but nobody noticed because he was loud and abrasive and they were usually rude compliments. He'd given her pointers then told her she was 'decent for a complete beginner,' as well, after all.
Ganauche had got a lift up to Varia Headquarters, because Housekeeping had admitted they had no idea where Xanxus's wife lived and Ganauche had realised he couldn't describe the route either, despite having been there. Which was damn good security, if a little awkward. He didn't know the phone number either and he didn't want to approach Erica about this -even though she'd been there when Knight mentioned this- so he was going up to the Varia directly to ask the Lightning Officer. Lektor -actual name unknown- had reportedly been 'given' to Xanxus by his wife, so he'd probably be able to give Ganauche directions, or just call so Knight could come and meet him.
Knight had offered to break his Flame-bond to Nono Vongola all those months ago, and Lorenzo Esposito was finally taking him up on that. He'd tried, he really had, but he'd finally, painfully, had to recognise that his Sky had been deteriorating for as long as they'd been bonded -possibly even longer- and he needed to put some distance between himself and Timoteo if he was going to survive this.
He was doing a lot of very important work representing Nono at the moment, because he was bonded and also because Nono never thought to ask where he'd been like he asked Coyote and Visconti, but all the major stuff was out of the way now -the Inheritance Ceremony planning was in full swing and everything- so his breaking the bond wouldn't compromise any of that.
And, if he was brutally honest with himself, he didn't think his Sky would notice the difference. Not like he should.
He scratched the cast on his arm as the driver turned down the Varia's long front drive; Nono had a broken leg from the swan incident, and with how his mobility had already been limited Medical were really struggling to keep him mobile, not helped by the increasing senility. Timoteo's temper was terrible now and Coyote also having a broken leg -and Visconti a broken wrist- meant neither of them could take over the physiotherapy, which was causing all kinds of arguments because Nono was not happy about showing weakness in front of 'underlings,' even when those 'underlings' were some of Medical's best nurses, and there'd been flared Flames and sharp words and all kinds of other unpleasantness, because the Sky didn't care that not mobilising would mean losing his mobility, it hurt and he didn't want to cooperate.
Ganauche knew a lot more about medical matters now than he had even a month ago, and it was now very clear that geriatric care and paediatric care had far more in common than was obvious to an external observer.
They'd managed to move him out of the Iron Fort and into one of the private rural residences, at least, with the broken leg as the excuse. And Brow Nie had managed somehow to wrangle Active Lightning home carers, which was absolutely taking advantage of their Sky's prejudices but worked, despite Coyote's very transparent discomfort with the methods involved and that this was a lower quality of care.
But Medical's best were generally Suns, and Timoteo Vongola had refused to cooperate with them. The fumbling of the Lightnings he irritably tolerated, so they were who he got.
Ganauche, quite frankly, was looking forward to his Sky dying. A swift death was the most merciful outcome for Nono Vongola, his Guardians and his reputation generally, which was why he was pretty sure it wasn't going to happen.
Yes, this type of dementia was one of the more aggressive ones and it had been at work for some time now, but that only meant his Sky was likely to be dead inside the next five years or so. Five years was a long time, especially when dealing with an abrasive and intrusive Sky every single day.
Hence Ganauche wanting the bond broken; it'd be easier to wall the man out when his Sky didn't have a backdoor into his soul.
"Hey there Cioccolatino," a Varia loitering on the front steps said as he got out the car; Ganauche sagged theatrically.
"Yeah, expecting you guys not to pick up on that was definitely too much to ask." He knew there were worse things they could have picked, but this one was a bit embarrassing.
That got him a laugh, which was vaguely promising. "Speaking of your Boss's wife's people, can one of you get me in touch with Knight? He made me an offer I'd like to take him up on."
"Lektor's got his number, Guardian," one of the other Varia said, tipping back the top hat they're wearing with a smile, fine colourful braids swinging around their face. "Zima, walk the man up so he doesn't break another bone."
"Yes Squad Leader," said a voice right behind him; Ganauche skittered sideways in a burst of Flame then pressed his working hand to his chest over his racing heart.
"Don't scare him to death either," the Squad Leader in the top hat added, unhelpfully.
Zima was small and lithe and moved like an acrobat; Ganauche wasn't tall but he certainly felt tall following this assassin deeper into Varia territory; he also felt old, because Zima couldn't be more than seventeen and looked it.
"You should ask Knight to come here," Zima said cheerfully once they were out of the main front hall and heading towards the public offices, "the swans are still at Boss-Lady's house."
Ganauche did not twitch at the reminder of how he ended up with a broken arm, but he still wanted very much to know what was going on with those swans. They absolutely had not been normal swans, given how one of them had turned into a person, but he knew he wouldn't get answers there despite the Zabini body double clearly knowing who -or what- they were, so Ganauche had been forced to shelve all that for a later occasion. Yes, he wanted to know, but not at the cost of getting the important stuff done. The swans would keep.
Visconti had thought it was a Mist with an unusual manifestation or possibly a Cloud -based on behaviour- but Ganauche suspected there had been no Flames involved whatsoever. He certainly hadn't noticed any and he might not be the best sensor, but he wasn't terrible at it either. Even with his having taken the more generic Sun track before getting shunted into Lightning training, he had learnt the various first-aid Sun applications, which included sensing for when a patient was unable to communicate.
"I'm sure Knight wouldn't let the swans assault me," he answered dryly, looking around as the assassin nudged him sideways around an innocuous-looking patch of floor, then made an incredulous double-take.
The Tyrogue waved shyly at him as it jogged past at the heels of a massive Sun wearing the chariot patch of Dark Horse, the Varia's most longstanding Immortal Squad, on his sweats. Just, how?
"Investigator," Zima said from behind him. Which yes, did, in fact, explain everything when he'd met the Mist in question. She'd called him Janus and told him he'd have to choose; well, Ganauche had chosen now, and he'd picked the future over the past.
Turning away, Ganauche moved closer to Zima as they knocked briskly on one of the doors, then walked inside after them. Time to get on with what he came for.
English people didn't celebrate San Nicola -well not separate from the general Christmas festivities at least- so his Spitfire and little Shadow were intensely interested in the Superbi Christmas Market and that they got spending money for it. In euros, which were bafflingly straightforward in being decimal rather than involving prime numbers like British magical currency did.
Xanxus still had no idea what the exchange rate was there, mostly because from the way his wife and her people behaved, he got the impression there wasn't really an exchange rate: the cultures were too different in how they valued things, to the point that pricing scales absolutely did not carry over in any meaningful way.
On the one hand, not bothering with British Magical currency was clearly sparing himself a massive headache; on the other hand, he didn't like that he didn't know what the scaling was, so evidently he was going to have to work out some in-system comparisons to get a feel for value and cost. Sabina had an entirely different currency again, but they at least did have a proper exchange rate and did accept euros in most places. Although Diplomat had mentioned that the euro prices were all inflated compared to the Sabine prices in solidi, denarii and assarii.
But, he'd added, that was because mundane pricing was inflated anyway compared to wizarding pricing, so euro pricing reflected the mundane costing process to prevent people from trying to play the system. You couldn't buy in the mundane world and sell on at a profit in the magical one, and while items produced by magical craftsmanship could be sold profitably in the mundane world, that was only compared to items produced by mundane craftsmanship rather than by machine.
Isolationist but effective; Sabina still had all its traditional crafts, and its limited mechanisation was all about empowering the craftspeople, not replacing them.
The San Nicola Fair was a craft event as well, for the most part: all those Superbi who had craft hobbies boxing up this year's creations for sale, so they'd be able to buy more raw materials later, and those who were professional crafters setting up a stall in public to draw in new customers.
Dorea was settled in one of the large food tents set up in Castellammare del Golfo's Piazza Della Repubblica, cuddling Daniela and being watched over by several Guardians both visible and invisible -Poet wanting to stay low-key despite also being determined to keep poking his nose into Superbi business, not that Xanxus was about to stop him- while Hector was gleefully free-range in the care of Sumu and Turk, who between them would manage to keep up and make sure the three-year-old was both entertained and protected.
Tomorrow was a Saturday and he'd be handing off the twins to their Varia godparents for more fun explorations at the San Nicola Fair, but today he was taking both of them around on his own, and he could tell they are absolutely delighted to monopolise him.
"Papà look!"
"Papà what are those?"
"Papà what's that smell?"
Xanxus let himself be dragged this way and that along the streets, criss-crossing from one stall to another and occasionally calling Cassie back when she ran too far ahead -or Marius, but mostly Cassie- and doing his best to identify things, or else point to the stall-holders so they could do the explaining for him.
They started at nine in the morning and by eleven he was feeling a little ragged, but his two energetic six-year-olds were still going strong, purchases tucked into pockets and bags with magically enlarged interiors and featherweight charms, darting between the stalls selling seasonal sweets and frowning at prices as they tried to decide what would be good value for money and how much they wanted, considering they knew there was still a lot more to see and possibly buy.
"Will buy you each one larger thing to eat or one small bag of sweets," Xanxus said, "and a hot drink." Yes they were running around all over the place but it was cold today, not raining but with a brisk wind that whirled down the streets with a damp edge, and he didn't want either of his fledgelings getting chilled.
There was a brief, low-voiced argument over what to get, but Marius eventually prevailed -with the point that they could sample and buy sweets themselves later and the larger hot things were more expensive and interesting- and Xanxus ended up buying hot pignoli from a stall with a portable oven, the pine-nut studded macaroons each as large as one of his children's splayed hands. He bought himself a bag of cuccidati, knowing the twins would want to try them as well, then got them all mulled wine to drink and ward off the cold.
His kids had Zabini digestive systems; whatever traces of alcohol there were in the hot wine, it wouldn't do them any harm.
Sure enough, after eating their own pignoli he is boldly -but politely- asked to part with two of his cuccidati, which he agreeably goes along with. They did taste good, but watching Cassie and Marius's faces as they tentatively sampled the new sweet and decided they liked it was better.
Xanxus succumbed to eager pleading eyes and Shadow's polite 'May we have another one, Papà?' and handed out another two, then quickly ate the last one to prevent any thought of arguing over it. Dealing with his twin children had very swiftly taught him that there had to be even numbers of everything, even if one of them later decided they didn't like the whatever-it-is that much and let the other one have their share, or else there would be trouble.
"So, where to next?" he asked as Marius scrutinised the leaflet with the map and cassie sipped the last of her mulled wine.
"Papà?" Marius asked, looking up from the map.
"Yes, Shadow?"
"Can we go to school in the New Year?"
"Please?" Cassie asked, red eyes bright and hopeful.
"Why?" Xanxus asked, taking care to keep his voice light and not giving away his unease at their asking him when they both knew their mother was in charge of their education. It suggested they had a scheme in the works, one they'd given a good amount of thought.
"All our Superbi friends go there and so does Amadeo!" Cassie said eagerly.
"I want to know what school's like before we go away to live at Hogwarts," Marius said, earnestly reasonable. "The school in Calatafimi's just a day school, so we'd be home every afternoon for extra lessons on things they don't teach, and if it doesn't work out we can just stop going. You and Mama can do more things with the babies while we're at school, and Mama won't need to worry about finding us a new German tutor."
Xanxus felt his lips twitch. "Mama would tell you it's no trouble."
Marius stared reproachfully at him. "Mama is still sad because of the bad lady," he said levelly. "She's wearing sad clothes all the time."
Given today his darling wife was wearing a grey tweed wool walking dress under her warm deep green winter cloak with fur trimmings and matching fur hat, Xanxus couldn't actually dispute that. "I will discuss it with Mama," he told them; "she decides."
Both of them nodded at him, Cassie excitedly and Marius more measuredly. "Thank you, Papà!"
"Now, where to?"
"I want to see the seashell stall," Cassie announced, pointing at the map. Xanxus leaned in to see.
"It's near the painting and prints section," Marius noted, reading the tiny key in the margin. "I want to get Sarja and Gwasgedd a picture."
"Seashells then." Xanxus knew that this specific seashell stall would include shells with pictures painted in them, which was why it was near the fine art section of the fair in the first place. An entirely different seashell stall near the jewellery section had shell necklaces and mother-of-pearl inlay in bracelets and so on, which they could visit afterwards. With those biscuits and the mulled wine inside them, his energetic little fledgelings would probably be fine for another hour before demanding lunch.
He'd promised -more or less- to bring up the matter of school with Dorea; something for tomorrow, when the children were all out with their godparents being doted on and they could both raise their voices without worrying about being overheard. He knew why his wife wouldn't like it, but at the same time… it would be good for the twins to get to try school in a lower-stakes context before being packed off to boarding school -in Scotland of all places- aged eleven. And as Marius said, there was no obligation to stay in school if they decided they didn't like it.
But his wife's dislike for all things Vongola wasn't reasonable, and clearly she was going to have to make some hard choices there. Xanxus refused to have an opinion on that -he never went to the Academy- but he would relay the twins' request to their Mama. If she wanted to know more about how the Academy worked then she could ask Squalo, or better yet Daisi since he was teaching there a few days a week at the moment.
What Dorea did with it was up to her, and he'd support her choice either way.
"Papà come on!"
Xanxus hummed warmly at the terribly impatient vultureling pulling on his arm and let himself be hustled into walking slightly faster. Tomorrow's problems were for tomorrow; today he was having fun with his children.