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cw / (purposeful) misgendering, implications of emotional and mental abuse, avid (but censored) deadnaming
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Chapter 22
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"—ru-kun… Haru-kun!"
It's not the harsh whisper that wakes me, but the almost urgent shake of my shoulder that does.
"Mmnff?" I grunt, almost startling awake at the touch. I manage to pry one eye open, lifting my head off of the pillow enough so that whoever was calling me could see that I'm awake.
And it's Mukuro. Blue eyes filled to the rim with tears. What little moonlight filtering through the closed curtains illuminates the unruliness of his hair.
I'm more awake suddenly. "Kuro-kun?" I croak, voice still deep from sleep. I force myself to sit up, worry starting to chase away my slumber, "What's wrong?" My eyes are still drooping with remnant sleep, so I start rubbing at them in the hopes of waking them up.
It doesn't do much really.
"Can… Can I sleep with you?" His voice is low, almost a whisper. Maybe even a mutter from the way I have to strain to hear him. I try to stare at him, trying to think through my daze. And he's not looking at me, his gaze falling somewhere over my right shoulder.
He's avoiding my lazy stare. And there's an apparent hesitation in his voice. I squint my eyes to better look at his expression in the darkness—and there's a nervousness and anxiousness I see there can also be interpreted as fear.
Hm?
Did he… have a nightmare...?
"Mn." I say, quick to lie back down. I adjust myself and slide over to make room for him, pulling the kakebuton* back. I extend my right arm across the futon to him as an invitation once I'm ready, and he surprises me.
Because contrary to his character, or even of what I expected of him—he jumps at me. Or at least that's what it feels like.
"Hngg?" His arms are suddenly around me, and his face is burrowing into my collarbone. "Kuro-kun?" My voice comes out as a gasp, and he squeezes me in response. A gentle pressure that wakes me up a little more.
I choke a little in surprise.
He… This is not like him.
His nightmare must have been bad…
I sigh. A small, empathic sigh. Without comment, I wrap my arms around him, shuffling a little to adjust the kakebuton around our shoulders. He doesn't say anything, and while I burned a little with curiosity to know of his dream, I don't think he'd answer me at this moment if I asked him about it.
So I hold him. Close. Close enough to feel the thinness of his bones and the grip he has on my shirt. Close enough to feel the warmth he fills me with under the covers.
He smells good. Comforting.
It's this soothing feeling that sends me back into a doze.
And I wake up.
I open my eyes.
It's morning. And judging by the amount of sunlight in the room, early morning.
That…
Why did I dream of Mukuro?
I sit up, feeling a deep, extensive fatigue fill my entire body.
It's the first time in years—maybe even the first time ever—that I had allowed myself to actually sleep—without being aware of my surroundings. At least, the first time since I realized the world I live in used to be fiction to me.
Maybe that's why I dreamt of Mukuro. I didn't dream anymore since learning to stay some part awake... At least not the way I had just now…
Like if I were remembering a memory.
As if we had actually spent our childhood together and I was living and recalling it as it happened…
But why him?
Why Mukuro?
It's weird. It's so so weird…
I reach for the burner phone on the nightstand, not wanting to think about it anymore. I quickly calculate the time difference between France and Japan, and schedule messages to send to my parents, Shiro, Tsuna, and Yamamoto about my "Hokkaidō school trip" at appropriate times. The program on the phone is slow, but doesn't lag.
Honestly, I'm just glad Aria thought to program a phone that left digital footprints of me in Hokkaidō.
"This is why she calls the shots," I whisper to myself, rubbing my face in the hopes of waking up a little more.
It's so easy to rely on her.
The boss of the Giglio Nero Famiglia.
I need to step up my game too. I can't help but think.
Because after our conversation last night, even if I don't want it to happen, even though I don't want to think about it happening—
The part of me that is in fight or flight mode is thinking:
—If I'm to care for Yuni alone.
Forty minutes into the hike through the forest around Arbois that the locals speak of fondly and with mild superstition, I wonder when whatever Aria is planning will happen.
She had sprung the idea of a hike in the middle of breakfast. And while I was not opposed to some exercise after her attempt at a frittata (you will never catch me telling Aria to her face that she can't cook, while she would take the comment with grace, the sad puppy dog look she would unknowingly have the rest of the day would be the end of me), it's the fact that she made me go without her despite it being her idea that told me this was a scheme of her's.
"Look 'Nina!" Yuni points to a bend not twenty feet away. She looks cute in her hiking boots and puffer jacket. Looking at her, I can't help but remember how tiny she used to be. I'm reminded of how much Yuni has changed me.
Or, to be accurate, how much I grew for Yuni.
I divert my attention to the river Yuni has pointed out. It's smooth and the sound of it doesn't sound like just a river. I frown, stepping forward next to her to see if I could peek around the bend. "Is there a waterfall?" I can't help but ask, straightening before I make myself fall.
"Yes!" Yuni says, and she's grinning, as if we have finally reached our destination and she's excited for it.
Which me might have. Considering she seems to be in on whatever Aria is planning.
"Let's go!" Yuni takes my hand, and I don't fight her as we step off of the worn hiking trail. I don't even have the energy in me to sigh, too resigned and used to Aria's tactics to be bothered anymore.
They say ignorance is bliss. And if we weren't dealing with the mafia, maybe I would demand Aria to tell me what she has planned. Her strategies were always so intricate and secure that just knowing brief parts of them confused me. I don't like being kept in the dark, but if we weren't dealing with forces that would put my, and Yuni's life, at risk, I would definitely confront Aria about her schemes.
I don't like being used. At least without knowing my place and my contributions in those plans. But I know that if I'm ever taken and if whoever took me tried to get information out of me…
I'd rather Aria let me know what I only need to know.
As long as Yuni and I are as safe as can be, I can tolerate not knowing how she will use me.
Because I know she is doing her best to protect her daughter's life and identity and mine.
We carefully trek down the small hill to the bank, and from our sudden vantage point I see what Aria and Yuni were planning.
A child. In the river.
That alone should be enough to shock me.
But this child is wearing an apple hat.
A round apple hat almost half as wide as they are tall.
And that makes me freeze.
I close my eyes, inhale slowly, and exhale for as long as I can.
And considering that I'm able to hold my breath for almost five minutes, it is a long exhale.
What. The. Fuck.
This… I don't even have words.
The child looks up, and blinks, as if surprised to see us. And it's when they do that I clench my jaw to keep from showing any shock.
Because I know them.
I know them.
But, I can't remember—
"Es tu un ange?" They say, pivoting in the water to face us better. They have a mud ball in each hand, and from this distance, I can see that they've been out here for a while.
Their nose, shoulders, elbows and knees are pink from the cold. Parts of their hair and face are caked in mud, and their clothes are covered in more than a day's worth of grime.
I frown, trying to calm the brief adrenaline spike I had when recognizing them. I try to focus on the kid in front of me, try to focus on how early it is and how it looks as if they have been out here for more than a few hours—
They tilt their head—face apathetic, voice curious— "Or maybe you're fruit fairies."
"Bonjour," Yuni says, and I startle a little. I had been so engrossed in trying to remember who this kid was while staying present that I had forgotten that she was with me.
She smiles at the child, and starts stepping closer to them.
"Yuni—" I hiss, taking one step forward to keep her within arm's reach.
"I am not an angel." She says slowly and pauses. I can't see her expression too well from my position, but I can tell she's thinking hard to find the right French words to use. "I'm Yuni."
They stare at Yuni a little, and suddenly I understand the look on their face, "Whoa...Your French is so bad."
"Hey." I say, and maybe there is too much venom in my voice, because even I am surprised at the amount of it. But only because Yuni can speak Italian and Japanese fluently. And it's only been recently that she has started to learn Spanish and French. And that alone is impressive for someone her age.
Can this kid who is maybe only just starting their schooling days say the same?
Yuni blinks at the child, and from her facial expression I know she doesn't understand their insult. Good.
"If you have nothing nice to say," Ahh, I can feel a few of the words coming out more accented than I intended, "don't say anything at all." I step closer, so that I'm standing next to Yuni again. "Yuni is still learning." I crouch, so that Yuni and I are closer to the same height. So that the child wouldn't be wary of me, "So. What are you doing out here? It's cold."
It's more than cold. The river must be freezing.
And despite their sharp tongue, they look more like a lost kid than a troublesome one.
"Nina, he's harmless," Yuni says, and she says the words lowly, so that (maybe) they can't hear them.
Out of the corner of my eye, her expression is pleasant, maybe even eager. And I trust Yuni's judgment. She's young, but she always knows. Sometimes she knows more than she should.
And I trust Aria.
But I can't help but be even a little cautious of a young child all by themself in the middle of the woods.
Because I can't forget that Yuni is the hidden child of one of Italy's notable mafia families. And even if Aria planned for us to meet, we are still talking to a child who seems to be around Fūta's age in an apple hat and a sleeveless shirt playing in the mud of a riverbank in this too cold weather several miles away from a village that Aria had picked to establish a safe-house in.
Oh.
Suddenly it clicks.
Out of all the safe-houses Aria has… she had decided on this one for us to meet at.
Right. Aria is… she's this type of person.
She wants this child.
"I live here now." The child says, turning the mud balls in their hands slowly.
They're not looking at me.
"What do you mean?" I ask, almost slowly, to try to understand what they're implying. Because I don't like this feeling I'm suddenly getting.
"Are you here to kidnap me?" They say instead, looking at me again.
I stare at them for a moment, while Yuni continues to wait patiently next to me.
A young child in the middle of the forest… One that has clearly not been home for at least twenty-four hours… maybe more…
"Do you want me to?" I find myself saying.
They blink. And strangely enough, the action feels almost eager to me.
"Hmm… If you feed me and play with me, I'll allow it." They say, shifting in place.
They're hungry.
Judging by how dirty they are and their physique they must have been out here for a day and a half at least.
Do they have a home to go back to?
Or a reason not to?
I exhale slowly, trying to keep my face from falling into an exasperated expression.
"Yuni and I just finished our hike," I say, standing. "Do you want lunch? I can make some for you." Thankfully I had told Aria I would be cooking lunch when we got back. Or else Aria would have made lunch for us out of the goodness of her heart. And I love Aria. And Aria makes the best espresso in the world. But her food...
They blink, and despite the eagerness from earlier, they look suddenly wary. "Lunch?" They echo, and the word comes out soft.
They want it.
They want it but are cautious.
Good. They're smart.
They know not to blindly trust strangers.
I don't want to force them, but the familiar look in their eyes reminds me of…
Fūta.
When I found him waiting for me at my doorstep.
Waiting more than six thousand miles away from home to be safe.
I exhale, and think. Because I don't know if acting playful or serious with this child will help them get used to me easier.
I crouch again, so that we're closer in height again. "Should I blindfold you and carry you back as I kidnap you?" I say teasingly, testing the waters.
They blink, and take a step back further into the river. "Hey, are you actually trying to kidnap me?"
Oh…kay, I guess being playful with them isn't going to be too effective.
"Let's go." I say with a sigh. I stand, gesturing towards the hiking trail with my head. "If you get tired, I'll carry you."
I turn to Yuni as I hear the child wading out of the water. "The child is going to have lunch with us, Mami. Let me know if you get tired on the way down, okay? I'll carry you."
"Okay!" She says, grinning. Her expression is more delighted than I anticipated. She even starts humming as she heads towards the trail that brought us here.
So this kid really was the goal… I found myself thinking.
"Are we going?" I turn my head to look at the child and—
"Where are your shoes?" I ask first, because they're barefooted and without a jacket either. Their shirt is covered in mud from having cleaned their hands on it, and their pants are rolled up all the way to their knees and wet.
This… is not the look of a "lost" child.
They shrug, and they sniff loudly as they do. "I lost them last night," They say, wiping their nose on the back of their wrist.
Last night?
I clench my jaw. I don't like this feeling I'm getting…
I inhale to steady a growing anger and step towards the child as I unzip my puffer jacket. They blink as I kneel in front of them, turning their head back and forth as I wrap the jacket around their shoulders. "Hm?" They grunt curiously, letting me guide their arms through the sleeves.
"Eh?" I pick them up, and they aren't heavy at all. The weight of them doesn't aggravate any part of me (thankfully), "Wait wait wait," They say, struggling a little as I shift my grip on their arms, "are you really kidnapping me, wait, don't, I don't taste good angel fairy—"
I toss them across my back and quickly catch them by the knees before they slide down. Their hands naturally fall on my shoulders to balance themself, and I can feel how cold their skin is against my hands.
We should hurry back, I can't help but think. Considering how cold they are and the fact that they've been out here for almost two days they might catch something—
"My name is Miura Haru," I say, not acknowledging that I hadn't understood half of their panicked rant. My French isn't advanced enough yet. "I'm not an angel fairy."
"Ah…" the child says, seemingly surprised. Yuni giggles to herself, I can only guess it's at the child's expression over my shoulder.
"Will you tell us your name?" I ask, starting to hike back to the village. Yuni watches us intently, her expression curious. Despite her very basic understanding of French, I can't help but think she might understand what we're saying. She's always been highly perceptive.
The child is quiet. They're quiet for such a long time that I don't think they'll answer me. I shift my attention to the hike, because I don't want to trip or even force this child to reveal any information they're not comfortable sharing with me.
Trust isn't built that way.
I'll have to think of a nickname then. Something relating to apples sounds really good right now—
"Fran." They say, and their voice is tentative. Shy. Maybe even anxious. "My name… is Fran."
"I'm a boy, okay? Don't forget that!"
Fran is watching me. Trying to gauge my expression.
He had dropped his illusion. It had taken nearly thirty minutes and a close wrestling altercation, but I finally convinced him to drop it so that I could bathe him properly before lunch and…
I understand. That this boy had run away from home now.
And it made me worry all the more about his situation and why he had felt the need to run away from home at his age…
Because the apple hat was more than just a hat. It was an illusion he draped over his whole body.
I swallow. Because I don't know the right words to say that could help this boy. That could help him understand that I understand him and want to help him.
That I am already on his side.
"Thank you for trusting me." I say. And my words are low, almost a whisper. "You are you. You're Fran. That is the name you gave me. And Fran is a boy because you are a boy."
His face twists, and I get him into the bath and start pouring water over his mint hair to help hide his tears.
He does not seem the type to want to cry in front of others.
I'm watching Yuni and Fran play with a set of cars that Yuni brought with her from Italy from the kitchen table. Aria is sitting across from me, chin in her hand and a gentle smile on her face.
She looks happy. Content.
At having Fran here? At Yuni having a playmate?
I don't know.
And I want to ask.
But not when the children are no more than five feet away from us playing on the living room floor.
"Should we race? What do you think Fran?"
"I think your Spanish is very weird." Fran says instead of answering her. It makes me want to throw something at him.
"Fran—" I start to say.
"It's 'Nina's Spanish!" Yuni grins, looking pleased with herself. And my mouth snaps shut at her words.
I look at Aria, and she's turned her head to smile at me. Soft. Pleased.
I swallow and grip the mug of my afternoon tea harder.
"Well it sounds weird." Fran says, before agreeing to race with her, but only if they can build a race track from miscellaneous items from around the cottage.
"Okay!" Yuni answers, and is quick to offer suggestions.
Other than his native French, it seems that Fran can also speak Spanish and German. Which is good luck for us, considering the only one fluent in French here other than Fran is Aria.
Luckily, Yuni has been learning Spanish for longer than she has been learning French. So communication between the two of them, and the rest of the current household, now seems to flow much more smoothly.
"Are you teaching her on purpose?" I can't help but ask, voice low. It sounds like an accusation, but I mean for it to be a genuine question.
Out of the corner of my eye I see Aria tilt her head toward me, a subtle sign that her words are directed to me despite watching the children play, "She asked to learn it that way."
I don't know what to say to that. It makes me fond to know that Yuni wanted to learn my dialect, especially knowing that the Spanish she will hear most often, and the Spanish Aria speaks, is Peninsular Spanish.
It also makes me ache.
"We're close to Switzerland right now," I say, changing the subject. My throat hurts a little. From containing my emotions, or my tears, I don't know, "You would think Fran would choose to study a language bordering Western France, instead of one boarding the south."
I can see the corners of Aria's smile curl a little more, and I know she's humoring me when she answers, "You're right. He seems like the type to be a little rebellious. The kind that doesn't follow social rules…"
The kind who is confident in himself and his wants and what he wants to do…
I'm jealous of him suddenly.
"Aria…" I say, and hesitate. Because I want to ask her about her plans for Fran, but don't want the kids to overhear.
"What is it?" She asks. And I startle a little, in surprise.
That's right. I had forgotten that Aria can also speak English. We almost always conversed in Italian, with some sprinkled Japanese words or expressions in there, and never had difficulties communicating. So much so we never bothered to try to talk to each other in other languages...
It… feels a little awkward…
"What are your plans for him?" I reply in English. My voice is still low, not wanting the kids to hear me—even with little chance of them understanding our conversation. Because I know now that Aria wants him because of his illusion capabilities. For a child less than ten years old to maintain an illusion on his persona for so long, and sleep and hunger deprived at that…
I don't know much about illusions, but from pure rumor and gossip I can't help but compare him to Mukuro.
Aria hums a little, and it's a sound she makes when she's sure of her decision and what will happen but is humoring social rules in conversation. "Take him home tonight, Haru." She finally says, sipping at her coffee leisurely.
I frown a little, confused. "You want me to take him home…?"
"Yes." She replies simply.
"He…" I say slowly, trying to think. "He has family… here? Here." I confirm to myself, because there isn't much distance for a kid his age to travel—
Wait.
"Here?" I ask genuinely, because I suddenly remembered the distance Fūta travelled to get to Japan. Considering Fūta, it's not impossible—
"Yes," Aria answers with a laugh, looking amused, "Here. He has a grandmother."
"A grandmother…" I echo, still trying to understand her intentions. "He… I thought he ran away…?" It's a question, but I'm late to apply the intonation at the end of my sentence.
Aria's smile turns sad, and she does not answer me. "Take him home. Not to return him. But for him to say goodbye."
I stare at Aria, because I'm trying to understand what she plans for him.
She's not one for putting minors on the field. If anything, she'll raise and train him throughout his youth.
Oh.
Suddenly I have the idea that she's raising him for Yuni.
An illusion maker of his strength would be a considerable comrade for her. Especially considering what Yuni is inheriting. It helps that they're close in age too.
"Okay…" I breathe, feeling the fight leave me in understanding.
He's for Yuni. That makes sense.
That I can help her with.
"I don't want to."
"Fran," I say patiently, because I expected this type of behavior from him.
It's late now. The sun had set a few hours ago and Fran had lagged this trip until past dinner time.
Now, full and warm and content, and looking much pinker than he had this morning, he is refusing to go back home.
But there's only so much time I can give him. Because he had admitted to living in the woods for three days, and I don't know how his grandmother is handling it.
"Can't I stay?" He says, and there's a pleading note to his voice. It sounds raw and almost emotional, but his face is carefully neutral and only the slant of his eyebrows gives away his anxiety.
I press my lips together. Because this is a difficult situation that I don't want to aggravate. And I don't want to lie to him.
But also, it's hard to explain to a child that they're going to be adopted by a mafia family and that loose ends needed to be tied up…
Or not too difficult, maybe.
I crouch so that I'm closer to Fran, who's lounging on the floor to make it difficult for me to pick him up. But I don't plan to, "I know you ran away from home." I say, and he gives no indication that he heard me. "I understand that it might be difficult to see your family right now. That you don't want to see them and that you expect to never talk to or hear from them again…"
I'm guessing here. Because I have no knowledge of his relationship or even his situation with his guardian.
But there is very little reason to run away from your family other than to permanently detach yourself from them for your own well-being.
"I'm not taking you home so that you can go back. I'm taking you home so that you can say goodbye."
"I don't need to say goodbye," He protests, and makes himself sit up. His illusion is strong, because I can see the strain in his neck he gets from the weight of his apple hat as he forces himself up, "Gra-mere doesn't care about me. This isn't the first time I've done this you know."
I blink. Completely surprised by this revelation.
His eyebrows give that small downturn again, and it's the only indication he gives that tells me he's angry. "I've run away from home before. I've stayed away for five days before too! And I only go back because I'm hungry! And Gra-mere can't cook! And every time I go back home she doesn't even realize I've been gone!"
His lips are turning down now. "She can't cook. She doesn't listen to me. She doesn't know me. She thinks I like playing make believe and that I like wearing lace. But I don't! And what I hate! What I hate the most is—I hate that she won't stop calling me girl!"
He's gasping for breath, and his expression is one that makes my heart twist.
I want to tell him it's okay. But instead, I inhale and say, "You're safe here, Fran." My voice shakes a little, but I clear my throat and continue. "We understand you. We accept you here." I want to tell him he doesn't need to go back. "I understand that your family are the last people you want to see. That you don't want to do anything with them anymore. But I need to tell your family where you are going. So that they don't need to worry about you anymore."
He sniffs, but no tears are running down his cheeks. "You go." He says, and his voice is rough. "I don't need to go for you to tell her that."
I smile softly, because he's not wrong. "Tell me where you live."
He pauses, and I know I've got him. "I…" He says, and gives a final sniff. "I don't know… the address. But I know the way…"
I can't touch him the way I touch Fūta and Yuni because his apple hat is in the way. So I stroke his cheek with my knuckle instead, and he blinks at the action.
"Take me there."
It's a cottage. Similar in size and style as Aria's safe house. It's closer to the village proper, and not on a hill, but still holds the same dreamy quality all the houses here seem to have.
Fran is standing next to me, and he stops walking the moment the footpath deviates into the walkway to the front door.
"I'll wait here," He says, taking a few steps back until his back hits one of the few trees along the path. He angles himself so that he won't be seen from the front door, and I sigh in resignation.
I won't make him come to the door, although his presence might have helped.
On my way to the door, I look around to get some inspiration on a quick alias. I had given Fran my name only because I knew Aria wanted him, but I couldn't use Shizuka Yuu or my real name without compromising Yuni and everything Aria fought for.
I lift a hand to grab at the knocker on the door, and notice that it's molded into the shape of an angel.
I suddenly remember the first thing Fran said when he saw us. "Es tu un ange?"
Are you an angel?
I knock.
It takes a while for an old woman to answer the door. But when she does, I notice the resemblance right away.
"Can I help you?" She asks, and smiles kindly at me. Strangely enough, the smile unnerves me. Not because of a feeling that she is actually hostile, but because the shape of her mouth is just like Fran's and I hadn't seen such a smile on his face yet.
It didn't seem possible he could smile kindly at me yet.
I smile in return, and it's a practiced smile that doesn't resemble my genuine one at all. "Hello!" I say, and my voice is lower than my normal speaking range. "My name is Ange, are you Fran's grandmother?"
She blinks, and looks a little confused for a moment. "Fran?" She echoes, wearing a pondering expression. She purses her lips, and this is an expression I've seen on Fran.
"Yes. I know your grandson."
"Grandson?" She echoes again, before shaking her head. "I only have a granddaughter." And she says a name that is most definitely not, "Fran."
I see. This is going to be difficult.
There is no gender neutral term for grandchild, and I can't confirm who she thinks is her granddaughter is Fran, because Fran is a grandson.
"Where is the child?" I ask, to give me time to think about how to approach this, and to see what her response will be.
"Ah," She says, and uses that name again, "—is playing right now. That girl is always wandering in the fields." She laughs, like she's amused. "She likes to play in nature. Oh," She pauses, and brings a hand to her mouth in realization, "But that girl, she hasn't caused any trouble has she? She likes to go around doing mischief and make up names on the spot. Did she use the name Fran this time?"
I'm tired. I'm tired and I'm not even done with this yet. I can feel a familiar emotion similar to annoyance start to bubble in my diaphragm.
"No." I say, and the word almost comes out as a sigh. I regain the low voice I used initially, "The child told me he's a boy."
"Ah," The grandmother says, and it's a frustrated sigh. "My granddaughter likes to go around and cause trouble and use different names in order to not get caught, but she is my granddaughter. She's a girl going through a phrase. She lost her parents really young you see—"
I'm so tired. I'm so tired of guardians not paying attention to their wards.
"May they rest in peace. And I'm an old widow raising a young girl all over again. It's difficult for me and for her, you see. She needs the attention of a mother and father, and I can't do that for her. So she's going around saying she's a boy to get it out of her system—"
"The child told you he's a boy." I'm getting angry. And it's hard to make me angry. "Do you not believe him?"
The grandmother exhales, and it's a sharp agitated exhale. "Young man," She places one hand on her hip, "I am her grandmother. I know her best. Who are you to tell me any different?"
"My name is Ange," I say, and I'm glad Fran decided to hide for this. I can't imagine the embarrassment and anger he might have felt had he been confronted with all of this. "I'm a friend of your grandson. And I'm here to tell you I'm adopting him."
Fran's grandmother looks ready to chastise me, and then, "What?" She shakes her head a little. "Adopt who? Certainly not my granddaughter." She uses the other name again, "— is my granddaughter. Who are you to say you'll be taking my granddaughter away from me?"
I bow my a head a little, because despite being in France I'm used to Japanese customs and I'm done with the conversation. "Good bye. Fran will be leaving with me."
"Now wait just a minute!" She reaches for me, but I sidestep her and start making my way down the walkway. "Hold on! I'm calling the police! I don't know who you are or what you're doing, but you can't say you'll be taking my granddaughter away from me and expect me to be okay with it!"
She calls me a few obscenities, but by the time I make it to the footpath I hear her rushing indoors to follow through with her threat to call the authorities.
Fran is looking at the footpath, arms behind him, neutral expression on his face. He doesn't raise his head to look at me when I approach, but I know from distance alone that he probably heard a good amount of our conversation.
Before he can protest, I take him by the arms and swing him onto my back.
"W-Wait, what are you—?"
"We're running." I say, tightening his grip across my chest to make sure he's secure. "The police won't be out here for a few hours, but we need to be out of the country before they get here. Hold on."
Aria and Yuni are waiting when we make it back to the safe house.
It's close to midnight by now, and a single candle on the coffee table illuminates Aria holding a sleeping Yuni in her arms on the couch.
"Welcome back," She says, and stands. She's dressed, and at her feet are three packed bags ready to go.
I laugh a little, or try to, it comes out as more of a chuckle through my panting breaths. "You really are…" I inhale, then exhale slowly to better catch my breath. "Alright, whatever. Let's go then."
I follow Aria to the small car she rented, and place a still awake Fran in the back seat. I'm buckling him in when he grabs at my wrist.
"Haru…" He says, and his voice is tentative. "You're really… I'm really going with you right?"
I adjust myself, so I'm not hovering over him and can better look at his face. "Yes." I say, and make sure my voice is firm.
He blinks once, nods, and releases me.
I'm quick to place our luggage in the trunk while Aria turns on the car, and once I'm in the passenger seat Aria doesn't waste any time speeding away.
I'm winded. That sprint from Fran's grandmother's house to Aria's cottage was the first time I had gone full out physically since being abducted by Mukuro. While I had kept up with physical therapy and wasn't aching anywhere anymore, I hadn't been able to fully build myself up to my previous level.
"Everything going according to plan?" I can't help but ask Aria in Italian. I glance at the side mirror to see if Fran is still awake, and while we haven't been on the road for long, his head is already bobbing with sleep.
"You should sleep," She says instead of answering me. "It'll take us a while to get to Nice."
"Nice?" I echo, briefly confused. There are closer airports to our current location. I had landed in Lyon when I arrived after all.
But Aria called the shots. If I think about it, a bigger airport might be best to hide Fran's departure.
Then again— "If you're driving me to Nice, you might as well drive back to Florence."
She smiles. "That's what I plan to do. I'll be changing cars a few times on our way down."
I frown. I feel like we're not understanding each other here.
"If you're driving to Florence, why do you need the bigger airport? The passport you gave me is good enough for the smaller ones." It would be easier for her to drop me off sooner so that she could start changing cars a few times on her way south.
"Fran is going with you." She says.
What.
"What?" I can't help but say, confused. "He's going with me? I thought you wanted him."
"I do," She affirms, glancing at the rearview mirror. "I want him for you."
She wants him for me?
"What," I say again, trying to think through her intentions. "You want him for me? Why? He'll be more useful for Yuni."
Wait. A better question would be—
"What are you thinking?" I can't take my eyes off of the profile of her face. "You readily accept Fūta into my Shizuka Yuu persona without questions, and now you went out of your way to kidnap a child from the backwoods of France."
Why does it feel like she's having me collect people?
"What are you planning?" I ask, and I'm worried suddenly. Because if this were all for Yuni I would understand. But for me?
Why? What could she possibly gain by accumulating people around me?
I can't remember anything that could possibly give me a clue as to why she's bringing an assortment of people together in the first place!
"Check the glove compartment."
I exhale, frustrated, but do as I'm told. In it are fake papers for Fran's Japanese identity. A fake passport and birth certificate, along with other miscellaneous papers that would help support his identity in Japan.
"He's the son of a family friend," Aria says, merging onto the freeway. "Your friends passed away in an accident, and out of affection and love for them you adopted their son."
The adoption papers list a "birth name" that is not Fran, along with his new adopted name as, Shizuka Yukio.
I sigh, and tilt my head back so it meets the headrest. "You sure are good at picking out names…" I mumble, exhausted. I can hear her smile, and it's true. Even the alias she had chosen for Fūta, was highly appropriate.
Miura Haru. Shizuka Yuu.
Yuni de' Giglio Nero. Shizuka Mitsu.
Fūta de la Stella. Shizuka Hoshi.
And now Fran. Shizuka Yukio.
The kanji she had chosen for each name feels almost like a teasing jab from her.
Performance. Light. Star. Happiness, Man.
"I have fun with it," She says, cocking her head a little. "I've used so many aliases throughout the years, I kind of have to."
I watch her, and I know she's telling the truth.
"Which one are you using right now?" I ask, because there's no way she left Italy undercover with her legal name.
She smiles, "Ciel! I almost named Yuni, Ciel, actually." She laughs.
She's so comfortable it's astonishing to me. Here I am, close to losing my mind while she sped on the freeway with the most casual look on her face.
"Why do you want me to take him?" I can't help but ask again. Because this at least, I feel I deserve to know. Whatever she plans for the future for him, okay, whatever. But for the present, for the now, I at least needed to know why Fran needed to be with me and not them.
Maybe I shouldn't even ask. She had let me keep Fūta without questions, maybe I should let this slide for once because of that.
"To be honest," she says, and she looks sheepish, "I don't think I'd be able to handle Fran and Yuni together."
I stare at her.
"I'm new at this!" She says quickly, defensibly, "I'm lucky the Famiglia is even letting me live off the property. Knowing them, they would have followed me or even moved in if I hadn't restricted them. If I take Fran with me, it'll be hard to help him adjust properly when I'm on base with the Giglio Nero during the day. Although…" She adds, and looks almost wistful, "I did always wish I could give Yuni a sibling…"
I don't say anything. Because after our most recent conversation, I don't want to think of how short of a life she and Yuni will live.
And with her sudden admittance, I can't say what we both know.
That there is no way for Aria to have another child.
And I mean that morally.
Because if she were to have another child… what kind of fate is it to condemn a child to solitude? A parent and a sibling that will die young anyways…
It would be heart wrenching.
"Okay," I say, resigned. I can't fight her. Not when I know how she is. What she wishes. What she hopes for. What she's working to accomplish.
The best chance for Yuni.
She smiles at me, and it's a sad, enduring smile. "Thank you, Haru."
I don't say anything. What can I say to that?
"What's your Japanese name?"
"Shizuka Yukio." Fran answers, voice bored. The name comes out accented—but he's young, he'll pick up the language quickly.
"And your western name?"
"Fran."
"Any last name?" He's starting to look annoyed, and I get it—but I have to be sure he at least has this down before we get to the more complicated matters once he's settled in.
"No." He says, and he almost spits the word out. "Just Fran."
"Okay," I say, because I know he's got it, but more to fill the lull in conversation. I watch him, trying to gauge how he's feeling. His face, I've learned, is generally apathetic. It's his words and his body language that give him away.
He doesn't seem overly nervous, but I definitely am.
I hadn't thought of it at all until we had landed. But Fran would have to stay in the guest room. This house has three bedrooms (four if you count the Japanese style room on the first floor) all on the second floor. One is mine, the second is Yuni's and the guest room had initially been planned for Fūta once he got used to this place. But then Kokuyō had happened… And now Fran is moving in...
I wasn't worried about Fūta adjusting to Fran. I was worried about Fran adjusting to Fūta.
"This used to be a guest room," I say, to give context to what I'm about to say, "It was supposed to Fūta's but… this'll be your room until you adjust to everything. Later on, you might have to share it with Fūta."
I had mentioned Fūta to him on the plane to Japan, but Fran doesn't look too enthusiastic about living with a kid he doesn't know.
"You'll start school next week I think, I'll have to check in with the documents Aria sent. But if I'm guessing correctly you'll probably go to the same school as Fūta—"
"Do I have to?" Fran's voice comes out as a whine, and it's so childlike and age appropriate it makes me cough to keep a laugh from escaping my throat.
"I might have kidnapped you, Fran, but there is now way I'm letting an uneducated freeloader live under my roof." I say it teasingly, but I think Fran takes my words seriously. His expression darkens, and he clenches his hands tightly together. I watch him, and I can think of dozens of things that can be bothering him, but I can't know which unless he tells me.
"Try it out, please," I found myself saying. "If it's really bad and you're having a hard time, we can come up with something else."
He doesn't say anything. But after a tense moment, he gives me a nod, and I exhale in relief.
"I'm going to go pick up Fūta. I'll pick up some take out on my way back. Is there anything you'd like?" I would prefer not to leave him by himself, especially since this is a house he's never been in before in a country he's never been in.
However, I couldn't let Reborn see him. Not yet. Not until I had the confidence to use the excuse Aria gave me to say.
"Hamburgers!"
I couldn't help the snort of amusement this time. "Alright. I'll grab some on my way okay?"
"Sure."
I don't move just yet. There's one more thing I have to drill into his head before I could leave him alone today.
"Fran," I say, and my tone is serious. "No matter what, you must never speak of Aria or Yuni. From now on, they do not exist. Not even when we are alone, in this house, with no one else present, can you utter their names. Do you understand?"
He frowns, confused. "Why?"
I hesitate. Because I want to give him a good answer, one that he'll understand without overcomplicating my intentions. "If people overheard you saying those names… everything we have would be gone."
It doesn't look like he understands, so I try again, "If someone learns that you know Aria and Yuni, they will take you. They will take me, they will take Fūta. And we would never see each other again."
There is very little affection between us at the moment. I know saying that we would be separated and never seen again isn't enough for him, but what I do know is that Fran would rather be here than anywhere else at the moment.
He gives me a nod, and an, "Okay."
I exhale. But I'm still nervous. This is a dangerous game to play. I don't know how Aria can have so much confidence in me. I don't know how she expects me to pull it off when the pieces are getting more and more complicated.
"...Okay."
"Nēchan!" Fūta throws his arms around my waist. He buries his face in my diaphragm, and he doesn't waste any time shaking his head in happiness. The sensation tickles, but I laugh and ruffle his hair and let him continue.
"Did you miss me?" I can't help but tease, cupping his cheeks as he lifts his head to look up at me.
"Yes!" He grins, eyes crinkling almost closed, "I kept track of the days until you'd come back!"
I can't help but feel a stab of guilt at that. I really had wished I could take him.
But it wasn't my decision to make.
I kiss his cheek. "I'm back." The words come out softer than I intended, but Fūta doesn't seem to notice as he responds easily, "Welcome back."
"Mah, he really does love you, Haru-chan," Nana says. I look up, and she's standing in the genkan, Fūta's bag in her hand.
"Hello Sawada-san," I say, extending my hand to take the bag from her. It feels heavier than when I dropped it off, but I don't bother checking it right now. "Thank you so much for taking care of him. I really appreciate it."
"Of course," She says, and places a hand on her cheek. "It's no trouble, dear. How are your parents? When are they back from their trip?"
"They're flying back this weekend," I lie, smile easy to fake around her, "They've been calling me everyday. Which I feel defeats the purpose of them going on a trip by themselves." I laugh.
I had asked Nana to watch Fūta as I would be going on a "school trip to Hokkaidō." And that he couldn't stay with my parents (she thinks I live at home) because they were flying to Thailand for their wedding anniversary.
Reborn knew I was house sitting, so he understood why I went to Nana to look after Fūta. He also didn't ask why I lied to Nana about my parents going abroad, but I did answer somewhat honestly when he asked me why Fūta couldn't stay with my parents if they were an option.
They are never an option. None of this mafia shit is going to be around them if I can help it.
Fūta's a sweetheart. He's a gentle soul and I trust him and I know he would never wish harm on anyone. I know he would never willingly bring any danger to Miura Haruyoshi and Emi Incubo. But his ties to the mafia were still prominent. I love him and care for him but I will not let him around my parents for their safety.
"Ah, that's so romantic." She says dreamily, swaying from side to side. "I can't wait to travel for my wedding anniversaries too."
I watch her, suddenly curious. I knew Tsuna's father was involved with the Vongola somehow. It was why he was never home—because he was in Europe full time.
Did Nana think he would one day retire and they would spend their retirement days traveling together? Did she fantasize about romantic escapades with him? Suddenly I wondered how long she has been waiting for him, and how long she will continue to wait for him.
"Thanks again for watching Fūta, Sawada-san." I say, before I could think about it more. "Here. These are for you," I hand her a gift bag, and her eyes sparkle at the sight of it. "I brought some things from Hokkaidō for you and the others to share. Is Tsuna-kun here by any chance?"
I wanted to see him.
While Reborn is the last person I would want to see, seeing Tsuna's face would bring a sense of peace to me.
Huh. I didn't expect wanting to see Tsuna as something I would find almost calming.
"Haru-chan!" Nana gushes, taking the bag eagerly. She's grinning widely, and I know she's pleased, "You really shouldn't have. We're basically family after all." She doesn't waste time to open the bag, and inside is a medium sized box of—
"Mah!" Her cheeks are pink, clearly elated, "Yubari Melon Steam Cake! Do you want to come in for some Haru? Tsuna is out with the boys, I'm afraid. Being boys and all."
What does that even mean? "Thanks for the invitation, Sawada-san." I say instead, wanting to leave. Since Tsuna wasn't here, I wanted to head back home to Fran quickly. "But I should head back. I'm a bit jet lagged you see. My class landed this afternoon."
"Oh my, I see," She says, and he expression sobers up. "Rest is important, Haru-chan. Get home safely."
"Thank you, Sawada-san." I bow my head a little, and Fūta copies me, "Enjoy those with Tsuna-kun and the children!"
"Bye bye, Nana-san!" Fūta says waving.
Nana's reassurances fade away as we walk onto the street, and it's only when we're a few feet away from the Sawada property that I say, "You call her Nana-san?"
I've always found it interesting to learn the ways people refer to each other. Just from that alone, you could get a good sense of their relationship: what they thought of each other, how they would interact with each other. Learning that Fūta called Nana, 'Nana-san,' was curious to me, because knowing how affectionate he was and how receiving Nana was of affection, I would have expected a more cutesy title of familiarity.
"Mn." He nods. His grip on my hand is sure, and I can't help but think he's cute in this moment, "She wanted me to call her 'Mama.' But…" He hesitates, and I wait for him. "I… I don't want to."
I see. That made sense. "That's okay," I say, because it is. He's only ever spoken to me about his father. I don't know if he's ever had a maternal figure in his life, or what he thought of it, but he didn't really need one.
I just hope Nana didn't pressure him to call her that.
"You can call her Nana-san. That's appropriate. As long as she's not making you call her 'Mama.'"
He shakes his head. "She stoped when I told her, 'no.'"
Good. I squeezed his hand once. "If she ever does something you don't like, don't be scared to say, 'no.' And that includes me, okay? You should always feel comfortable around people you rely on. If you ever don't feel safe, please tell me. I'm here for you, piccolo."
He doesn't say anything, but leans into me a little more. It makes me smile to myself.
"I have something to tell you. About my trip."
Fūta turns his head to look at me. His expression is curious, but it's also so doe eyed and innocent it makes me feel guilty.
"First," I say, the word coming out almost like a sigh, "Let's pick up some hamburgers on the way home. It'll help hide our conversation too."
"Burgers?" Fūta echoes, and looks confused. "Are you craving them? We hardly eat burgers, Nēchan."
Oh man, I can't help but think. Because he's right. Fūta and I tended to gravitate towards pizza rather than burgers. Another indication of how well we get along.
But we have Fran now so…
"Well, there's a reason for that…"
I wait for the door to close and lock behind us before I call into the empty house, "Fran? Tadaima!"
"Tadaima!" Fūta says it as energetically as he usually does out of habit. But it's only after he does that he blushes slightly in embarrassment.
I smile at him and slip off my shoes in the genkan. I drop Fūta's bag on the wooden floor and head for the kitchen table to drop off our dinner bags.
Fūta's looking around curiously, possibly trying to get a look at Fran. I do the same, but don't see him, so I start heading towards the stairs.
"Fūta, can you set the table? I'll be right down."
"Okay!"
I head up the stairs quickly, starting to get hungry and wanting Fran's and Fūta's first meeting to be over with. I come to the landing and don't see anyone in the second living room. The door to my room is open, as it almost always is, but I don't think Fran is reckless enough to go into it—
Wait. He actually might be.
Rather than crossing the second living room towards the master's, I decide to check the guest room first. Maybe he decided to stay there the whole time—
I freeze. In the hallway towards the guest room, there is a space Aria took great care to erase. The floor plan of the house would say that there is a room to the left before what is now Fran's. This is Yuni's room. And Yuni's room is a space Aria has commissioned an illusionist to hide whenever not in use.
A name plate on the door by the man she hired, Genkishi, was made to distort space enough to make it seem as if Fran's room is the only one on this side of the building.
When in use, the name plate is faced so that the name is visible. When not in use and we wish the room to 'disappear,' the name place is turned so that the name is facing the door.
Right now, the name plate is visible.
Right now, the door is open.
And right now, sitting on the floor, eyes surveying the walls, is Fran.
"Fran." I say, and there's a sternness to my voice I recognize. The boy startles slightly but doesn't look nervous when he looks at me.
But he stands quickly at the look on my face.
And I don't know what type of face I am making.
"What," I say, and I realize I'm shaking. "are you doing?"
I'm shaking so hard I think I might need to sit down, but it's not from fear.
"I felt something," Fran says. "I got curious, so I came to see and… This is Yuni's room. Why is it hidden?"
"Fran," I say again, and I realize I'm shaking from anger. "Come here."
He raises an eyebrow, but doesn't hesitate to walk out of the room. My hands shake as I close the door, and as I turn the name plate back around.
The door fades into the wall, and fake family pictures of Shizuka Yuu and Shizuka Mitsu appear.
"Haru?" Fran asks, and I'm mad. Livid. And I want to yell at him for his actions, but it's taking so much physical restraint not to.
I raise one finger, to ask him to wait for me, because I know that if I put my voice to use obscenities will come out instead.
I inhale to calm down, but it's hard.
It's always been difficult for me to get mad, because when I do everything I had tolerated up to that point comes to the forefront.
"I can't—" I quickly make myself inhale before I say something stupid. "I'm mad right now." I manage to say. "I need some space. I'll come back to talk to you when I'm ready."
I turn and walk down the stairs, I'm vaguely aware of Fūta calling for me when I walk by, but I manage a quick, "I need five minutes," before slipping on my shoes and walking out the front door.
I don't walk far, I can't leave the boys in the house by themselves for long.
Well. I could leave Fūta. But not Fran.
I want to hit something. I want to yell.
But I'm scared that if I scream someone will notice. Someone will hear and come and start poking in their noses where they don't belong.
So I pull out my tantō, extend it into a spear, and start going though my forms with more aggression than I should.
I'm quick about it, trying to get as much frustration and anger out of me so I can move on.
I'm gasping by the time I'm done, but there's still some lingering anger in me.
Again. I go through my forms again. And there's a sheen of sweat layering my back once I'm done, and I'm definitely calmer but not as calm as I would like. Still, this'll have to do. It's been more than five minutes and I need to talk to Fran before he gets anymore ideas in his head.
So I head back inside, Xolotl shrunk back into a tantō. I take the stairs two at a time so that I'm on the second floor fast.
Fran is sitting on the second living room couch. Fūta is standing in front of him. He looks at me once I'm on the landing, and he turns to sit on the arm chair, a carefully blank look on his face.
I don't know what they were talking about, but I'm glad I don't have to do introductions. It seems Fūta went out of his way for that.
"Fran," I say, walking around the couch to face him.
His face is still apathetic, but he's clenching his hands tightly together and the sight makes me sigh.
I sit on the coffee table, so that I'm facing the younger boy, and my sudden lack of motion makes me slightly dizzy. "Can you tell me why you went snooping in Yuni's room?"
There's a sharp inhale from Fūta to my right, and the sound seems to make Fran tense up.
"I… felt something strong. So I got curious and went to go look." His knuckles are turning white. I don't know if I should tell him to stop. I don't know how to redirect his energy when I don't know him well enough yet. "It took me a while, to work through the illusion. Whoever made it is strong. But it was exciting."
It's at these words that I realize this must be the first time he's ever encountered an illusion stronger than his. And I understand his curiosity, but not at the expanse of what I asked him to promise me.
"It's only when I managed to see through the illusion that I realized it's Yuni's room—"
"Fran." I say, because I can only take so much. I'm starting to get annoyed again— "Before I left today, I asked you to promise me one thing. What was it?"
He blinks. Seems to think about it, and then, "Not to say—" And then he seems to realize what he's done.
"Sorry," He says, and the word sounds careless, but his eyebrows are furrowing genuinely. "I didn't mean—I didn't—"
"I know," I say, because I do, but— "I wasn't lying to you when I asked you not to say their names. Now that we're here, bad people can be listening."
He's looking at the floor, but I keep going. "I got mad because you did something I asked you not to do. I wouldn't have gotten angry if you had looked through my room or through the rest of the house or even through my hamper. But because you looked there, because—" I huffed, trying to control my emotions again. I don't want to yell at him. Not when he had just been acting like a kid. Acting curious and eager—
I inhaled, "Fran. I know you don't want to go back to your grandmother. But when I decided to take you in… I decided to bring you into a dangerous world. Maybe I should have asked you first, but I got emotional and…
"What I'm trying to say is…" I try again, "I know you don't want to go back to your grandmother. But if you can't follow this one rule I have for you, if you don't think you can or if it's too hard, I'm going to have to find another home for you—"
"No!" He shouts, and jumps to his feet. His face is twisted into one of pain, and he grabs at my hands, falling to his knees in front of me. "I'm sorry, I really didn't mean it, I can keep secrets I won't talk about them again," He's gasping for air, "I'll be good, I can learn—"
"Fran!" I yell, because he looks like he's about to hyperventilate. I put my hands on his shoulders to steady him, face stern. There's a slight tremor to his shoulders, and I squeeze gently to reassure him, "I am not giving you an ultimatum. I am asking you."
He blinks, looking confused, so I try again.
"I am asking you. Do you think you can do this? We…. I brought you into the mafia. It's dangerous. We can lose our lives any day. We… You have to learn to keep secrets in this life."
I stare into his mint eyes, and I don't know if I'm imagining it, but it looks like his lower eyelashes have gotten longer at the corners. "If you think you can, if you want to, you have to start now. If not… if not then there are options for you."
He swallows, and it's only then that I realize he must be holding back tears. "I can learn," He says. The words sound cut off, so I wait to see if he'll continue his sentence.
But he doesn't. So I nod, and I guide him to stand.
"I'm here to work with you," I tell him, as a reminder. "If you ever want out, you need to tell me."
He presses his lips together. He says, "Okay," but it's a mumble. Like he doesn't believe himself.
I exhale through my nose, and I look at Fūta, who has a surprisingly serious look on his face. "Let's eat," I say, wanting to move on, "I'm hungry."
I'm in a room.
It's small.
It's rectangular in shape, and long, with—
It's my dreamscape.
What the—
Wait.
But then that means—
"Hello cucciola."
I turn, and it's Mukuro. Mukuro is smiling at me. Smiling mischievously.
Mukuro who abducted Fūta and me. Mukuro who tortured me for days and mentally abused Fūta and mentally and physically abused Tsuna and my friends and—
I don't even think about it.
Instinct and emotion have me jumping at him. And I'm quick to wrap my hands around his throat.
And I don't hesitate to squeeze.
Glossary
kakebuton — traditional Japanese duvet
Thanks to:
xenocanaan (hello friend! so happy to see you again! heart. i think a lot of people forget these are kids going through an extensive amount of trauma lol, so i wanted to make sure it was clear how much haru is having a hard time. especially considering this was a path they didn't have a choice in taking. i love futa so much, he's such a sweetheart, i have plans for him, wahaha), Seere Klein (lmao yes! yes he did! i love writing reborn cockblocking because i feel like he's the type to do it just for kicks lol. so glad to see you friend, can't wait to hear from you again!), LadyDream3512 (thank you so much for reading! i appreciate you!), Mori (guest) (haru is funny in that they're just like me (wow, shocker), if several years passed without seeing or hearing about them, haru will just... not think of them lmao. it's why their friendship with shiro is so close, it's because they message each other every day. thank you so much for reading! can't wait to see you again!), poko (guest) (thank you so much! i try, lol. i'm so glad to hear you're enjoying the fic, i enjoy writing it! can't wait to hear from you again!), WhoAreYouAnyway (guest) (thank you so much for reading! i love seeing new readers :)) ah, i'm actually going to go deeper into haru's gender in the future arc, please look forward to it! the scars on haru's back will also be explained in future chapters! or soon, hopefully. lmaooooo that's a lot of ships, but please remember that there is no set pairing yet, although i'm curious to know what you all think on that matter. oh man, i can't wait to write out all of those interactions lol, it's gonna be so much fun! hope to see you again soon!), xraykax (i'm back! thank you for your patience! was the chapter worth it?), readingmaniac88 (i try to be lol, thank you so much for reading!),Blu3b3rryT3a (thank you so much for reading! i feel like reborn is the definition of a pushy nosy-parker haha), Kawaiibunny (guest) (thank you so much for reading! can't wait to see you again!), OceanaValkyrie (oh man, i'm a sucker for the childhood friends to lovers troupe, but there is no set pairing yet, so we shall have to see, evil laugh. i love teasing my readers. can't wait to see you again!)
I'M BACK BABY!
cliffhanger on purpose, because i wanna, hehe, but i'm so glad to be back! i've had surgery and i moved during my absence, and as a neurodivergent individual, the transitions were hard for me. but! i'm finally getting back into the grove of writing and i can't wait to share haru's story with you all :D
(it was very difficult for a while, i will not lie to you haha)
but thank you all for your patience!
i want to make it clear that haru got lucky with yuni and fūta lol. they're both kids with gentler dispositions and don't really fight authority. so it'll be really fun to have fran around, someone who didn't have to think about the repercussions of his actions and has to learn what he's gotten himself into.
here's to more adventures with haru and co!
let me know what you all think! :D
—prince
p.s. i can't believe it's going to be 10 years since i've worked on this fic (and more, mentally) should we do something to celebrate?