Author's notes:/ this fic was written purely thanks to chamiryokuroi's tumblr post and I couldn't have done it without its genius, although I sincerely hope you guys enjoy it.
lemme know if I should make this an actual thing an not a one-two chapter deal, since I do have a bunch of ideas on how to expand the plot
also, here's to drunk Reborn's shenanigans which end up getting poor decimo shipped off to America

Prologue.

"Happy birthday!," voices cheered as glasses clinked against each other.

"Happy birthday, dame-Tsuna," Reborn slurred through his glass, tipping the emptied glass back. "Didn't think you'd survive to your eighteenth.. then again, I'm your tutor,"

"Reborn, I think you've had enough to drink – maybe you should put the glass down-"

"Don't tell me when I have or haven't had enough, punk," the taller man waved the glass at his front threateningly, but all it did was succeed in making him look as uncoordinated as a three year old child. "I'm the number one hitman, I'll drink whenever and as much as I damn well please."

Tsuna – the acclaimed birthday boy – shut his mouth, drawing lips into a straight, undefined line. His birthdays all cruised in a similar fashion; he would pretend he hadn't grown another year in the guidance of the devil himself, get reminded of the very fact and dragged out to a night of so called 'celebrating' that he'd end up regretting by the end of the day[which really only consisted of good food, Reborn getting piss drunk with Tsuna having to take care of him for the remainder of the night]. Rinse, repeat.

"You've always been good at talking back, stupid disciple."

"It's because you always cause trouble for me, Reborn," Tsuna grated out in a moment of uncharacteristic menace aimed his upperclassman's direction. "Act your age."

He comprehended his shortcoming a moment too late; the moment a glass flew, catching him square in the chest.

Reborn, occupying the body of a twenty something year old a little too tall and a little too broad-shouldered for Tsuna's good, stood, shattered glass cracking against the pressure of his heel. "Act my age? Act my age, he says."

"No, I wasn't-" Tsuna tried, fruitlessly, caught in the other's pace.

"I have an idea, why don't I have you act your age?" Tsuna instantly withdrew, sensing the ridiculous amounts of trouble that single sentence foretold. His elder was so problematic when drunk, more so than regularly.

Reborn didn't drink. Not while angry, sad or any of the motions in between. He claimed it had to do with his profession; hitmen couldn't let themselves be thrown under the mercilessness of alcohol. Tsuna understood that – he also understood Reborn's decision to have an 'off day', a single twenty four hour period where he would indulge in the self proclaimed 'hitman poison'. What he didn't understand, however, was why Reborn had to choose Tsuna's birthday – of all the days – to turn into a drunken sailor?

"I've just turned eighteen, Reborn."

"Exactly, you've just turned eighteen. As such, opportunities previously unavailable to your person have made themselves known. Why don't we have you take advantage of one of the many up sides of being an eighteen year old man?"

"I'd rather not," he flattened, turning his back to the older man. Maybe if he ignored him, Reborn would go away to bother someone else.

"I think," Reborn continued, his tone securing that sadistic streak he never worked to keep at bay. "That you should go to college." Say what?

"I think that's a wonderful idea, juudaime!" Gokudera hopped in – very much uninvited –, leaning into Tsuna's personal space. "College is a wonderful experience! You'll have the opportunity to relish in many great things!" There it was again, that word; opportunity. Tsuna had had enough of 'opportunities' in his life.

"See? Your bright right hand man agrees," Reborn peppered, slamming his hand against the counter Tsuna was seated at. "What's more, we should make it a foreign college; how amazing would that be?"

"That's a perfect idea, Reborn-san!" Gokudera agreed wholeheartedly, not catching the other's hidden intentions. In his thoughts, it was nothing other than another chance for the tenth to enjoy himself. "How about America? It's very exchange friendly! Plus, juudaime's English is perfect!" Gokudera damn you stop shoving ideas down his throat he'll just twist them around to his liking-

"Genius, no wonder you're his right hand man."

Tsuna wanted to die, and god knew he'd done that enough times as is. "Stop kidding around, you two. I don't even like America."

"Here's your opportunity to come to like it." Opportunity, opportunity, opportunity…

"Let us start making plans immediately, Reborn-san!" Tsuna jerked up from his seat, hands clenching at his sides, frown plastered to his features. "At least let me enjoy my birthday in peace," he murmured inaudibly, catching Reborn's amused gaze.

"Of course, birthday boy. Tomorrow then."

"Certainly! Tomorrow, juudaime!" How had Gokudera turned into an accomplice?

A firm nod, Tsuna strayed from the duo, aiming to distract himself with the drinking game Bianchi had been conducting for the past fifteen minutes. If there was any good left in the world, Reborn would wake up tomorrow, toss aside that stupid whim of an idea and they could all resume their lives in Italy. He would forget, Tsuna assured himself, he tended to.

However, this time around, he never ended up forgetting.