Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The first thing Tsuna did when he saw Xanxus, because he was a hot mess who couldn’t act for his life, was screech, “ Uncle Ricardo, what the fuck?? ”

There was a pregnant pause.

That had been Italian, hadn’t it.

Tsuna covered his face with his hands and screamed a little. He had been doing so well. So well . Pappa had even suggested visiting- making some sort of distraction for the hitmen in the house so he could come by and they could be like a family for the first time in months. Goddamn it.

“Dame-Tsuna-” The sheer amount of questioning and confusion in Reborn’s voice made the teen want to laugh, except he couldn’t because the Ricardo look-a-like had apparently gotten tired and decided to go ahead with his plan to kill Tsuna and what was his life?

Except Iemitsu decided to interrupt so he could declare an all-out inheritance war.

Why hadn’t his mother left this fuck yet?

Reborn, being the gentle soul he was, tried to corner Tsuna when they came home. Blessedly, Iemitsu proved to be a distraction to the hitman, while his mother kept him long enough that there was no time for the teen to be pestered. Technically. She gave him a conspiratorial smile when she pulled him over to help her handle the children, and only let it fade to worry when they were well into the bath.

“Tsu-kun, what happened? You came back so late, and the children...” She glanced down at Lambo, who had bruises from when he had been knocked around running. The boy didn’t seem to notice them, happily splashing at I-pin. Tsuna hesitated.

“I messed up.” Was what he settled on. Nana gave him a skeptical look. “Well, it wasn’t what caused- this- but I did mess up. A little. Iemitsu and Nono disagreed on the next boss, so now there’s an Inheritance war. And they sort of. Tried. To go after Lambo first, because Iemitsu gave him a ring...?” Nana had gone more and more stony-faced while he spoke. He had to hurry before she exploded. “And the other candidate- I think he’s one of Uncle Ricardo’s? He looks like his son, or something. And I may have blurted that out.”

Nana was silent as she washed Fuuta’s hair out. The boy was watching them nervously. He, it seemed, was old enough to pick up on the mood. As Nana stood and quietly left the bathroom, Tsuna smiled reassuringly at the nine year-old. It was not very helpful. The ring half in his pocket was burning, and he winced. Looks like she was really upset. There was a slam from downstairs, before Nana started screaming. Tsuna closed the door and hurried the startled children into the tub.

No need for them to hear that.

When Tsuna woke up that morning, any hints of Iemitsu were conspicuously gone. The alcohol was cleaned up, and the bags that had been haphazardly lining the living room wall were missing. Tsuna peered into the kitchen cautiously.

Reborn and Bianchi were seated at the table, watching a humming Nana as she went about her daily routine of cooking breakfast. The children were already chowing down on their own plates of food.

Iemitsu was nowhere to be seen.

Reborn turned to him when he peered in, watchful and resigned and a tad angry, from what he could read, and Tsuna squeaked, hurrying to go and put his uniform on. No need for that conversation so early in the morning.

Yamamoto and Gokudera were there when he came back down, which was nice, but they were going on about beating the Varia, which was less nice and just worried him? Because these were trained assassins and they were literally teenagers? No-kill, near-civilian teenagers holy lord?

His pleas for them to not get involved were ignored the whole day.

Ryohei-nii being called out to fight terrified him, especially since they boy didn’t appear to be treating this as any more serious than a normal cage fight, so Tsuna let just a little bit more of the act slip. He was already screwed, why not make it worse?

“Ryohei-nii, take- take this, please, it’s, it’s a family- luck charm?” The boxer held the rosary between both hands, eyeing the cross. Thank god for Christianity not being prominent in Japan. “It would make me feel better if you had it on you.” Since it’s like a freaking Sun battery , he didn’t add. Ryohei glanced between it and him before giving a smile.

“Don’t worry Sawada, I’ll be fine! But if it makes you feel better...” He slipped it round his neck, the cross clinking against the ring half, and Tsuna smiled in relief. Watched him walking into a fight he never would have had to do if not for the small teen.

“I am a horrible person.” He said mildly as Lussuria made his first move. The rosary shone like a beacon on Ryohei’s chest as he fought, clear through the glaring fluorescents. There were multiple pairs of eyes burning into his back.

He wondered if this was how Pappa had felt when he used to watch Knuckle fight.

“Dame-Tsuna, where did you get that rosary?” Tsuna gave the hitman a blank look, pausing in the arduous task of sorting through Lambo’s hair. It was like a freakin’ video game’s hammerspace, and constantly made him wonder if the boy was a secondary Mist.

“It’s like I said, it’s a family heirloom.”

“You called it a good luck charm.” Tsuna wibbled his hand a little, grimacing and edging away from the hitman.

“I sort of said that to make him take it? I. Dunno. Um.”

“Why did you give it to him.” Tsuna flinched and released Lambo, who ran off with a screech. One more hour. Could he send a child off to fight a man’s battle? His father would be so disappointed. Good thing he was off visiting graves.

He’d come soon enough anyways, with the messages his mother had apparently been sending.

“It. Felt right, I guess? Something was telling me to do it, that it would help. Gut feeling, I guess?” He pointedly avoided saying intuition or instinct. Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair. “Um. Could I ask you something? About flames? It’s- they seem so out there, and unreal, and it’s... does using them do anything, I guess? Using such a. Weird. Power.” The hitman tilted his head.

“Can I ask you who your father is?” Tsuna flinched. Fiddled with his hands, nudging some of the things he had pulled out of the child’s afro.

“He’s. Not mafia anymore. Mom, sort of. From how she put it, when she found out Iemitsu was lying, she got really upset? And dad was there, and he explained it all and didn’t treat her like an idiot. And she got pulled in by that, and then I happened.” And he didn’t leave went unspoken.

“That doesn’t change the fact we have two illegitimate candidates going up against each other now.” The mutter was bitter. Tsuna flinched again, nearly giggled at the irony, before straightening.

“Well, you can blame Iemitsu for that. It’s not my fault he’s such a shit husband. But that- the flames thing. Can we focus on that for now since it’s easier.”

“...It depends on what you mean, Dame-Tsuna. You’ve seen firsthand what Mist flames can do after all, and the others have different effects on the body and environment.”

“I mean... long-term.” That garnered a longer pause.

“There are rumors in some circles that strong flames may change the body. Sun users may be a bit stronger and stay younger a bit longer, Lightning users may have skin and nervous system issues. I’ve heard word of people saying Sky users may even.. change, due to how strong their flames are.” His face gained a serious shade. “Why? Is something happening to you, Tsuna?”

Tsuna shook his head. “Just wondering.” The mafia didn’t know, then. No Sky user must survive long enough to make it obvious. Reborn watched him intently for a moment before turning about face, seemingly dropping the issue. Tsuna exhaled shakily, running a hand over his face.

Why did everyone always feel the need to be so freaking intense?

An hour later, peering around the roof and at Leviathan, Lambo completely unaware and prancing around as thunder and lightning hit overhead, Tsuna’s heart sank. His intuition, the force it was, overpowered any anxiety he had. He may worry, but he would know whether or not they were in danger- true, certain danger that would lead to irreversible damage. He wouldn’t have let Ryohei fight yesterday if it hadn’t prickled at his mind and grounded him to the spot.

It was telling him now that sending Lambo into this battle would be a death-sentence. No ifs, ands, or buts.

He grabbed the boy before he could hurry into the arena, expression dark. The Cervello were watching his movements like hawks, the Varia impatiently glaring. “Your Lightning Guardian must enter the battleground, Sawada Tsunayoshi.” One of them intoned. He tilted his head at her, frowning. It was like second nature to slip into Italian, letting his voice project and his flames simmer underneath his skin.

“I’m afraid there’s been a misunderstanding- Iemitsu Sawada made presumptions of my Guardians and incorrectly informed you all that I had a Lightning guardian.” Reborn stiffened beside him. Gokudera and Yamamoto were watching in confusion. Tsuna smiled disarmingly. “I arrived to correct that and forfeit the match, as there is no guardian to fight for the ring in the first place.”

“VOII- ARE YOU TELLING US WE WASTED OUR FUCKING TIME COMING UP HERE?”

“You mean like how you’re going to waste my time during the Cloud match with your walking corpse?” He bared his teeth in a mockery of a smile, remembering the miasma that had come off the Mosca, how familiar and sickening it had been, dragging him back to those months when he was five and sick, dying, barely holding on. His father hadn’t left his side that whole time, picking at the seal and wearing it away until he was bright again, breathing and eating and feeling as though it had never happened. “Would you mind telling me first who you found, that has such familiar Sky flames?”

The Varia members baulked, and Tsuna took the opportunity to throw the Lightning ring half to one of the Cervello. He turned on his heel, grimacing at Xanxus, who had been lurking out of sight. The man looked infuriated. Good thing he couldn’t touch him until the Sky battle.

“You can be angry at me for that, but I’m not going to regret it.” Reborn stayed silent. Tsuna glanced at him, took in the dark expression. Continued. “Sending him out would have been murder. I’m not about to send one of my own out to die.” That got the hitman to sigh.

“A good quality in a boss.” He finally said. Grudgingly. Asshole. “But now the Varia holds the Lightning ring, and you’ve set yourself to having no Guardian. It leaves you at a major disadvantage.” Tsuna shrugged. It was better than a dead kid.

They walked for a bit, quiet. The other teens hadn’t been quite content with sending out Lambo either, which meant they didn’t argue, but the hostility that had echoed throughout the roof was stifling, even then.

“Judaime...” Gokudera hesitated. “You know Italian?”

“Mom had me learn it. I-I think that’s kind of why I have so many problems with Japanese? Kanji and hiragana are just so different. ” The two Italians stared. Yamamoto had a knowing smile, hidden with a hand. Most everyone native to town already knew about his mother’s foreign “beau”. Considering he’d been around as long as the city, they’d be oblivious not to.

“Dame-Tsuna. The only way that could be possible is if it was your first language.”

“Well. Yeahhh. But that’s less important- because I’m pretty sure the Ninth is in that creepy robot suit? Seriously, is that allowed?” The stares deepened. Reborn’s face twitched. “Because it’s putting off flames that feel really like his, and I can’t go near that thing without twitching and feeling the need to destroy it?” He shrugged his shoulders, mindful of Lambo still in his arms. “Might be something to look into, I’unno.”

“And how would you know the Ninth’s flames, Dame-Tsuna?” Tsuna cocked his head, wondering how to answer that.

“Well... when I was younger, there was that old man Iemitsu-” and wasn’t it nice not calling him dad anymore, holy lord, “Well, he said he was his boss? And he was putting off flames like what the robot is. Except less eh, sick I guess? It feels like the ones off the robot are messed with or something, but it still has the same feel.”

“That’s a bit of a leap in logic, Tuna-fish.” He glanced up to where Iemitsu and Basil had appeared, unimpressed. They were standing outside the house gate, just out of view of the front windows. The blond was looking haggard, like he hadn’t been sleeping well. “And a heavy accusation. Even if you’ve got a sense for flames now, that visit was nearly eleven years ago.”

“It was also one of the worst experiences of my life.” Tsuna pointed out, glancing away when the man flinched. “Kind of- kinda hard to forget that when it sucked so much. And that feeling I got around him, it’s the exact same I get around that robot.”

“Tsuna...” Iemitsu trailed off, at a loss. So much was unfamiliar now, twisted compared to his memories. When had Nana learned about the Mafia? When had Tsuna gained an edge to his words? When did he learn about the seal ? Italian ?

Tsuna sighed, rolling his shoulders. “It’s- you, you don’t need to do anything, it’s just a hunch or whatever, I guess. Something’s wrong with it, at least, so you might want to check it out. It’ll be a leg up for this ridiculous battle, at least.” He headed into the house, happy to be finally be home. Paused before turning back. “Oi, Yamamoto-kun, Gokudera, you want to stay over? It’s too late to go walking back.”

Went in and presented an untouched Lambo to Nana, who grinned in pride.

Tsuna, because he valued his life and didn’t need more shit right now, purposefully avoided using his flames again unless Reborn shot him. No one seemed to notice his little tactic last night, but it wasn’t worth being found out at this point. Maybe later, once the mini Ricardo had been beaten up a little bit and everyone was focused on being happy it was over?

But because he loved his friends, he also blew his cover just a bit more and had passed some earrings over to Gokudera the night before. Another heirloom. Hopefully Pappa wouldn’t mind, considering who they were going to. They were simple things, stone studs inlaid in a dull iron. Gokudera acted like they were gold and rubies. They were probably worth more than that, technically, considering what the stone did, but Tsuna just nervously smiled and watched as the punk replaced the studs he had in with them.

He got a few considering looks from Shamal when the pervert showed up to the Storm match, but hey, not his problem right now. Especially since the whole of the Varia were glaring at him, Mosca noticeably absent. When they first arrived, Xanxus had stormed up and grabbed him by the shirt, screaming at him, and would have planted his flaming fist in the teen’s side if it weren’t for intervention.

“If it’s any consolation, whatever you’d been planning wouldn’t have worked anyways. He- he can’t be in the thing forever, and Hibari probably would have had him hospitalized.” He wheezed out, straightening as he scuttled back a few steps. “ I guess that could have been your point? Except I wouldn’t have cared, since I hate the man. And no one would hold us accountable for something we weren’t aware of.”  He eyed the fuming man, contemplative. “You’re turning out more and more like Uncle Ricardo, and it’s kind of weird.”

“ WHO THE HELL IS RICARDO? ”

Good thing the Cervello were there. Ha. Haha.

He gave up.

When all was said and done, Tsuna sat on the ground and watched as the lies crumbled around him, the Varia and his guardians watching. The Varia guard that had come bursting in were terrified, screaming about ghosts and atonement, and it made him snicker for a moment.

Everyone realised what they meant when seconds later a burst of orange came from behind, knocking them out and sending one clear across the open space. Everyone gaped, and there were many, many choked off screams at the figure before them, dressed in a relaxed button-up and slacks.

“Tsunayoshi. I leave for a month , and this happens?” Giotto strode over sedately, picking him up from under the arms and setting him carefully on his feet. He smiled wryly, the lines around his mouth deepening. “What am I supposed to do with you?” He eyed the scene before him, before stopping with a frown.

“Ricardo?”

“ WHO THE FUCK IS RICARDO? ”

Chapter Text

The fact Tsuna was the calmest in the room for once was pretty weird. Usually, someone or something was upsetting him every ten minutes, making his anxiety shoot through the roof, but he was actually pretty good right now. Humming, he shifted a bit, giving Ieyasu better access to his chest, since the man was busy healing the cracked ribs and- apparently- punctured lung he had. Flames were some good shit, considering he hadn’t noticed any of that at all, only the bone-deep exhaustion and bruising.

The mafiosi were less calm.

Reborn was arguing with the other Arcobaleni in the corner, switching from Italian to French back to Italian like it was nothing. Squalo was having it out with Dino and maybe Gokudera and Shamal-? Essentially just screaming at them about what flames could feasibly do and the limits of humans. Dino was only involved because he was a Sky, as far as Tsuna could tell.

The only ones silent were the Namimori natives, and Xanxus. The man had yet to take his eyes off the pair, not even when Squalo tried to get his attention.

“You’ve tied yourself to some interesting people, Tsunayoshi.” Ieyasu murmured. Tsuna glanced down at him, hunched over as he was, and shrugged. Nothing to be done about it. The yelling though, he could maybe do something about. Tsuna raised the gun in his hand- which had been oh so easy to take off his father, something to work on- and shot into the air, watching everyone in the courtyard flinch. Tsuna flinched himself when they all turned to him, and fiddled with the weapon for a moment.

“Can-can we do this somewhere less open?” He finally offered. “I’m tired and want to tell mom I’m not dead.” The crowd weighed his words. Xanxus decided it for them by hauling himself to his feet, looking apathetic despite the blood still coating his front.

“Better than fucking sitting around here like dipshits.” He grunted, and that was that.

Nana, bless her heart, was not at all phased at the seven or eight extra criminals in her home. She set them all up outside, dragging out both her alcohol stash and the first aid kit, setting into Tsuna’s guardians first with concerned lectures. To the victors go the spoils, he guessed.

Tsuna was still hugged to Ieyasu’s side. Everyone was still staring at Ieyasu.

“Does someone here want to fucking explain, or you all going to keep being useless trash?” The elder Sky sent Xanxus an amused look.

“You really are like Ricardo. It’s mildly unnerving. But,” He continued, seeing the involuntary twitch at that comment, “There’s not much to explain. Flames have side effects, and Sky flames in particular tend to stretch the lifespan. A lot. No one figured this out presumably because all active Skies are usually dragged into the mafia and killed by their sixtieth birthday.”

“You seriously expect us to believe that.” Shamal deadpanned. The Sawadas as one gave him unimpressed stares. There was a shiver of unease that everyone ignored.

“The proof is sitting right in front of you, dottore. I can bring in pictures of my presence in Namimori, if that soothes your poor, troubled mind.” And wow, it seems no one had known that Ieyasu was anything but an emotionless figurehead, because at least one person choked on their own spit at that. He rolled his eyes. “I could also call my cousin, if that would help. He’s been around as long as me, although he doesn’t stay in Namimori.”

“Cousin?” Someone asked blankly. There was a pregnant pause.

“You have an heir who’s the spitting image of il Secondo, with me sitting in front of you, and you hadn’t considered that Ricardo may still be alive?”

...

Tsuna face-palmed as all hell broke loose again.

There was, at least, some benefits to everyone being dead tired, even if it meant they were more irritating than usual. It was child’s play to nudge most everyone into submission and back to their own bases, although Xanxus, Dino, Shamal, and Squalo had elected to stay behind at the house.

By elected, Tsuna meant Nana had forcefully told Xanxus he was staying there until he looked less dead, Squalo had refused to leave his side, and Shamal was being a rat bastard and arguing with Ieyasu over Flames again, like it wasn’t two in the morning. Dino stayed out of solidarity.

“There’s no denying your eligibility now, I guess.” Dino had said, hysterically giggling into the spare futon. Tsuna had joined in for a hot second before it had descended into wheezing sobs.

“I didn’t- hurgh - I just wanna be normal , why the hell couldn’t Iemitsu grow a fucking pair-” Dino patted his back and silently wished for death, or some alcohol. Drowning emotions always worked for him. They both fell asleep for ten hours, after that.

Waking up to Iemitsu and Ieyasu at the same table as Nana cooked was surreal. Seeing Xanxus, calm and eating with manners, was more surreal. Reborn was sat in it all, drinking coffee and grimacing at everything as the children yelled as usual. Tsuna pinched himself a few times to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. Dino did it too, but considering he had both hands on the railing, it unbalanced him and left him tripping over his own face. Tsuna toed his his shoulder gently and mourned his surrogate brother’s pride.

“Morning dad, morning uh, Xanxus.” The scarred man grunted, while Ieyasu and Iemitsu eyed each other and tried to figure out who he meant. Tsuna slid into the seat next to Xanxus while Nana set a plate of food in front of him. “Where are the others, exactly?”

“Doctor Shamal’s off arguing with people, I think.” Ieyasu said. “The albino fellow, he went back to his base?”

“Oh.” The silence sat for a little while, because power didn’t mean social skills, until Dino spoke up, wincing a bit.

“Uh, if Squalo left, why is Xanxus still here then...?”

“Fuck you is why.” Nana smiled and smacked the scarred man on the back of the head.

“It’s a family breakfast, Dino-kun! That means family stays.” The mafiosi stared.

“What the fuck?”

“You’re my cousin, Xanxus, and some of the only blood left alive. It’s more than enough to consider you family.” Ieyasu says around a sausage. He swallows and says, much clearer, “Ricardo should be here in a few hours or so, I left him a message saying it was an emergency.”

“You let me send the message.” Nana cut in. Ieyasu grinned and nodded.

“Exactly! He knows you’d rather slap him than talk to him, so if you’re messaging him, it’s important.”

“Wait, but, Reborn’s here too? And me?” Tsuna rolls his eyes.

“You called yourself my older brother the day we met, Dino-nii. And Reborn’s Reborn.” Absolutely none of them understood the last comment, but the hitman knocked him upside the head anyways. Ieyasu looked vaguely disapproving of that, and more so at Xanxus’ snort.

He spent the next hour debating positive and negative reinforcement. Tsuna got the feeling the only reason he hadn’t been shot at was because Reborn had too much ingrained respect for the man.

Xanxus was eerie when quiet. He stayed polite towards Nana and Ieyasu, only barely scowling at them when he was forced to talk and not destroying things whenever he was slightly irritated. He had stationed himself in front of the television and had yet to move, flicking through Japanese daytime shows and scoffing at them.

Iemitsu was watching him like you would a bomb about to go off. Tsuna wondered why he was still here and took the empty seat next to Xanxus. The man barely glanced over, scowl deepening a bit. Tsuna eyed the scars on his face, ruddering down his forehead and cheek. They looked... painful.

“Your-your secondary is Storm, right?” That gets his attention. Xanxus looks at him, scowling and gritting his teeth.

“Is there a reason you’re talking to me, you shitty trash?” There’s an offended noise in the background. Nana mutters something about Aunt Ichiko and manners. Tsuna hesitates for another moment before rubbing his hands together, concentrating. They burst into goldenrod flames a second later. “What the f-”

It’s really easy to heal scar tissue, incidentally. There’s no reason for it sticking around, if you’ve got Sun and Sky flames at your disposal. Xanxus is completely frozen as Tsuna does... something to them, he didn’t pay attention in fucking biology okay, he’s going on instinct. Half a minute later and they’ve been reduced to discoloured patches of skin, the texture barely off from the rest. “ Mine's Sun. Is that better?”

Xanxus isn’t answering. Tsuna waves his hand in front of his face a little, but it doesn’t get him anything. There’s a choked-off noise in the kitchen, and he looks over to see Iemitsu bug-eyed and gaping. Ieyasu’s grinning proud and fighting back laughter.  

“Dame-Tsuna.” He looks over to Reborn. The man looks like he needs a stiff drink. And some target practice. “Would you care to explain just how you did that?”

“I- I uh. Haven’t really been honest with flame stuff?” He fiddles with his sleeve and belatedly lets his hands fizzle out. “You-you were told probably that I had them sealed away, but I didn’t and that would cause problems, so I just went along with what you were doing.”

There’s a pregnant pause. “Tsuna, how long have you had your flames active?” Iemitsu asks slowly. Tsuna raises a brow.

“Since you tried to Seal them?? I had to go on life support with them cut off, so we broke it pretty quickly.” Dino looks outright alarmed at that, and the others aren’t better off though it’s tempered with anger, but before anything can be done, there’s a loud banging at the door.

“IEYASU, ANSWER THE DAMN DOOR, WHAT’VE YOU FUCKED NOW?”

Ricardo stared. Xanxus stared back. Ieyasu slammed a pitcher of water between the two to make them stop.

“Would you like to explain , Rico?” Ricardo scowled.

“Why are you getting angry with me -?”

“Because you’re the one who couldn’t wrap it and caused an Inheritance crisis and trouble for this young man.” Ricardo huffed at that, running a hand through his grey hair. Turned back to Xanxus, scowl resolving into something a bit more chastised as he eyed the scars covering his. Son.

“Light your flames up, boy.” He said gruffly. Xanxus obeyed, letting his head light with the expected red-orange flickers. Ricardo let his own flare, and the two were almost a symmetrical pair, beyond superficial differences.

“Yeah, there’s no way they aren’t related.” Ieyasu muttered. He cleared his throat, patting Xanxus on the shoulder with a slight grimace. “So you are Vongola, boy, just- not my branch.”

“Who the hell was il Terzo related to then?” Ieyasu gives them a disbelieving look.

“ Me , obviously. The problem there was that my first wife divorced me for Rico, and they just raised Vittore like he was their blood son.” He waved his hand vaguely. “Things back then- we couldn’t exactly- it was easier to say that he was theirs and leave it at that. I moved to Japan in half a decade anyways, so it didn’t really matter.”

“You left me to take care of a vigilante organisation by myself.”

“You turned it into an extortionist, weapon-peddling crime syndicate. You can stay quiet.”

Ricardo and Xanxus were banished to the backyard with some liquor and a handful of snacks. The Sawadas sans Iemitsu looked inordinately pleased.

Speaking of.

“Iemitsu-kun, don’t you have to go sort out the mess the Varia have made? I’m sure CEDEF is. Well, frankly, running around like chickens, right now.” Ieyasu smiled politely at Iemitsu. The bulkier man wasn’t at all fooled, and honestly looked like he was about to throw up. Tsuna would feel sympathy if it wasn’t for the fact he actually remembered his childhood.

“...Dad.” They both looked at him. “It’s not worth. Mamma has a stun baton, and I’m pretty sure she’s still angry. Leave before she stops being polite.” The stun baton mention got him moving. Clearly, the man remembered the first night. Good. Dino, more sympathetic than the rest of them, followed the other blond out, saying something about discussing... something. He sort of trailed off and flailed a little, awkward and too aware to be comfortable in the tension. Tsuna waved him off and watched as he fled.

Reborn muttered that he was getting a drink.

Now all that was left were the Sawadas and the children. Tsuna let out a long, tired sigh. Finally. Two pairs of arms snuck around him, and he sunk into the embrace of his parents. It’d been far too long.

Why don’t you have your guardians come over? He says. I want to meet the kids taking care of my son, he says.

Gokudera’s having a fucking conniption in the corner, and Chrome’s too scared to approach. Yamamoto and Ryohei, bless their Namimori heart and souls, take to the man like water, shaking hands and easily talking about their time near Tsuna. Or rather, Yamamoto was doing that. Ryohei was mostly talking about his duel and Mukuro. Hibari-senpai had implied Ieyasu was a cowardly carnivore and went home instead. Tsuna guessed he’d see him whenever Aunt Ichiko wanted to have dinner again.

Tsuna grabs Gokudera’s arm as Ryohei starts expounding on how EXTREME(!!!) it had been to fight Lussuria and the others. The blond looks up at him in sheer terror.

“He’s not gonna eat you, Gokudera-kun, it’s just my dad.” He whispers.

“Your father is the Primo! He’s one of the original founders of the organised mafia, Judaime! He could kill me with one hand!” Tsuna’s mouth thinned.

“You like me, don’t you, Gokudera-kun? Trust me?”

“Wh- of course-”

“Then you’ll like him. He’s just an older, less stressed me. With more firepower.” The teen looked between the two. He could see the internal battle. He smiled when the Storm hesitantly stood and walked over. That done, he turned to Chrome.

“Boss...”

“Is there- are you n-nervous, Dokuro-chan? You don’t have to be, like I told Gokudera-kun.” He paused, considering. “And if it’s the possession-sharing thing you’re worried about, his old Mist was a warmongering manipulator, so uh, you can’t do worse.” She shook her head in negative, hands twitching around the ever-present trident.

“It’s not that.. Something’s... telling us? Not to go near him.” She bit her lip. “It’s like an alarm bell.” Tsuna frowned slightly at that.

“It’ll be fine, Dokuro-chan, Mukuro. I won’t say you don’t need to worry or anything like that, but I can say he won’t hurt you or, uhm. Whatever else you think may happen. I, er, trust you, so he trusts you. Kind of.” She looked skeptical. It didn’t matter in the end since Ieyasu and the others just huddled around them anyways. The elderly man was shuffling their rings in his hand, fiddling with them in some unseen way that Tsuna could still sense.

“There’s something weird about these.” He said.

“Er, what?” Ieyasu looked up, clutching at the Rain ring.

“There’s something off. They feel different from when we had them, and not in the ‘age and time’ way. It’s almost like something’s clinging... to. Them.” He’s staring at Chrome now. Tsuna has a very bad feeling. Something’s telling him to act quickly.

“Dokuro-chan, could I see your ring for a moment?” She hands it over to him easily enough. He feels- something, as he passes it over. It’s almost slick, oily and wrong. Ieyasu stares down at it for a long, long moment.

Then he sets it on fire.

A fucking Mukuro clone pops out screeching and trying to stab him .

Two days, one reunion, a successful sealing, and three attempted exorcisms later, Daemon Spade is now lounging around in a golem that Mukuro handily procured. No one’s asked how. He’s taken to creepily staring at Tsuna and hassling Ieyasu every moment he can. He likes to laugh to cover up when he looks ready to cry.

Mists.

Ricardo finds it hilarious. Xanxus has decided Tsuna’s life is primo entertainment, and joins in quickly enough.

“Wait, so who are the Simon?”

“ Fuck . DAEMON! ”

The Varia leave a week later. Tsuna sneaks his and Ieyasu’s numbers to Xanxus, who likely won’t find them until later, hidden in the package of wine and goodies as they are. The group as a whole seems completely bewildered about his behaviour.

“Why are you being so fucking nice?” Xanxus finally asks, eyeing the boy like you would a particularly strange animal. Tsuna shrugs, because... there isn’t really a good reason.

“We both hate Timoteo? We’re going to be working together, soon? It freaks out Iemitsu? Pick one, I guess.” The man snorts, and that’s that. They’re gone, and life adjusts. Ieyasu moves in.

It’s the best week of the past year, in Tsuna’s opinion, right up to when he’s shot, and wakes up in his own coffin in the future.

Chapter Text

Nana smiled fixedly at the guest list in front of her.

None of these names were familiar. She only saw a few that were remotely Asian, much less Japanese. One of them was her own father’s.

Except that sounded kind of racist didn’t it, shit. She thumbed through the pages, eyeing a few. It was less about race, she supposed, and more about how... suspect? It was? Iemitsu had been raised in Japan, he told her that much, and only joined the company he worked at now when he was sixteen or so. He said it was construction.

She looked at the decidedly European conglomeration of names and resigned herself to a mostly Western wedding. Glancing up at Iemitsu though, who was gushing to a blonde woman with glasses, she couldn’t help but smile.

‘Husband’. She was still getting used to the concept.

Her dress was a cute thing, hugging her figure without showing much. There were many pockets as well, for some reason. The employees at the store had given her a knowing look she didn’t understand when she came in with another one of Iemitsu’s coworkers and kept to simple designs, with no large frills or flairs. She wasn’t really about to protest, since it wasn’t the important part of it all.

That was one thing that was also strange about all this. No matter where she went, someone was with her, be it Iemitsu or a coworker of his. The man had said it was to make sure she always had help, but frankly, she was a nineteen year-old woman, and could handle a few hours of shopping. She didn’t need a minder . Thus, while they were wading through a crowd on a crosswalk, Nana unobtrusively slipped away, taking a right and ducking into a cafe as Oregano continued on.

The cafe was bustling, and she quickly ordered a pastry and sat down. It was a relief, having a moment to herself, and she took the opportunity to crowd watch.

It was how she noticed it.

Namimori, for all that it was a tiny town in an isolationist country like Japan, was nearly as diverse as your average melting pot. Alongside the native Japanese, Europeans came for retirement and raising small families, while Korean and Chinese immigrated for trade and fishing.

That didn’t, however, account for the literal surge of foreigners- actual foreigners, unfamiliar to the town- in the streets. Many were suited, or in formal clothing, glancing round as they went about their business. And- were those guns?

“Nana-san!” Nana jolted, looking up to see Oregano. She was out of breath, and panicked. “You disappeared on me!”

How did you find me? She wanted to ask. She didn’t. “Sit down, Oregano-chan, order something! I thought a break would be good.”

The chill down her spine didn’t abate.

“Ne, Nana-chan, what’s this rock thing you put down on the registry?” Nana paused, turning from where she had been sorting through her monthly budget. Iemitsu had a strange look on his face, looking through the registry she had posted.

She had been the one to post it because, wonder of wonders, Iemitsu apparently didn’t have the first clue what a newlywed couple would need for a new house. Men.

For a moment, she had the urge to get Iemitsu checked, because who doesn't  remember the tradition, it was practically ingrained into the town, before remembering that he was from Tokyo, and wouldn’t know about it.

“Hmmm, it’s a... good luck charm? You get a piece of stone when you marry and put it in something you can keep on you- a ring, or necklace, even an earring if you want to go the extra mile. It’s a tradition in town among the natives. No one really remembers why.” She shrugged. His odd expression didn’t fade.

“Why green?” Nana thought back to her coming-of-age party, Ieyasu-san showing up as composed and kindly as ever and solemnly kissing the back of her hand, congratulating her on graduating and coming this far. Remembered lighting up green as the grass after a push of warmth from him to her.

It was one of the best nights of her life, that spark of warmth while surrounded by her friends.

“It feels right. And green’s my colour! Wouldn’t you say so, Iemitsu?”

The blond’s expression finally relaxed into a grin and he leaned in, landing a kiss on her cheek. “Every colour is lovely on you, Nana-chaaan!”

She giggled as he smothered her in affection, tickling her sides all the while.

She looked out the window of her room one morning, listening to her father putter around in the kitchen, and saw one of Iemitsu’s supervisors’ fingers lit in a bright violet light. As she watched, he slowly waved it, and a near-clear wave dispersed from the movement, slowly overtaking the perimeter of her lawn.

She closed the curtains and spent the next ten minutes hyperventilating without a shirt on.

Construction.

The wedding, when it finally happened, was controlled chaos. Iemitsu was grinning and laughing when he kissed her and put the ring on her finger, and she was crying with a smile on her lips. The cake was cut and promptly demolished, and there was enough alcohol to down a horse.

Nana knew no one there.

Her father had fallen sick days before, dealing with a stomach bug that refused to go away. None of her friends came, some disapproving and others genuinely busy with their own lives.

But it was fine. She was surrounded by people speaking in foreign languages, watching her husband get drunker and drunker as she sat, but it was fine. Someone was on literal fire on the other side of the field, everyone’s clothes had the bulges of concealed weapons, and she could see two children  comparing guns out of the corner of her eye, but.

It wasn’t fine. She was ready to scream.

She turned to the boy next to her. Man, really, but he still had the baby fat of a teenager. He had been steadily downing drink after drink since the start and had yet to stop. He didn’t look the least bit inebriated. He glared when she looked at him.

“Did I just marry into crime?” A raised brow.

“That shithead didn’t tell you?” She looked to Iemitsu. He was currently hugging a very disgruntled black man. In the distance, she thought she heard a gunshot. She thought back to the evasiveness that permeated every experience she had with his work, or his past, or his family.

“I don’t think he was planning to.” The boy snorted derisively. Nana agreed. She took a hold of the bottle of wine on the table and poured herself a large glass. The boy raised his with a grin.

Iemitsu left a month later on business, leaving Nana to a mostly barren new home half an hour from her father with stiff men constantly watching her.

Her thought process went like this: Her new husband was involved in crime, and was planning to hide it (badly) from Nana for however long he thought was appropriate. Long enough that he hadn’t shown any signs of saying anything throughout their year-long relationship and engagement. He was involved in crime, had an unclear past, and was willing to surround her with other people in crime if he trusted them.

Nana did not trust them. She saw her guard every day and had yet to stop flinching at the sight of them across the road, pretending they lived as a family.

She felt like she was a dumb teenager again, going to a late night party because everyone else was and getting roofied halfway through the night. She guessed she still was. This time though, she didn’t have her friends to drag her home and beat the blood out of anyone who looked funny.

It must have been obvious to anyone with half an eye that she was distressed and terrified, because two months into her nonexistent marriage, someone came up to her while she was on break at the bakery.

“Shimizu-san? Are you alright?” Nana snapped her head up from where she was dazedly sitting at one of the tables outside. Of all people standing in front of her, it was Ieyasu-san (because that was the only name he ever gave), wearing well-loved slacks and a button-up. He had a concerned expression, and was eyeing her with pursed lips.

“Oh- Ieyasu-san! I- it’s been so long, I suppose you didn’t hear, but it’s Sawada now.” She smiled weakly. His expression grew more pinched.

“I... see. Are congratulations in order?”

The fact he asked was the worst part, she thought. It was that obvious that she was a wreck. The woman straightened up with a grimace, running a hand through her hair.

“I- no. Not really. It’s not important, but thank you for the concern. How are you, Ieyasu-san?” The man watched her for a moment longer before nodding decisively and walking into the bakery. She watched him with no small degree of confusion. The windows were tinted, so she couldn’t see much of what he was doing, but he walked out a few minutes later, small bag in tow with a satisfied look.

“You have the rest of the day off,” He told her, sitting down. She gaped. “Miura-san was understanding, and said she hopes you feel better soon.”

“Wh-what!?” The blond- jeez, how many blonds were there in this town?- gave her a patient amber stare as he set out the pastries he had bought, handing her a napkin. She weakly clutched it, because that was all she could really do at the moment.

“Nana-san. Are you alright?”

...

She relented.

Ieyasu was stuck in a permanent wince when she finished, hands clenched around crumbs of the pastry he had handed her.

“That is... problematic.” Was all he said. She stared at him.

“I- you. Don’t know anything, maybe? I know it’s far-fetched, but with how old you are, I thought...” He grimaced, eyes shifting away as he fiddled with a set of prayer beads. Why did he just casually have prayer beads? He put them away when he caught her staring.

“I know... too much, I suppose. What you’ve been dragged into isn’t an easy situation, Nana-san. That you have been at all...” His face darkened, and Nana had the distinct feeling that Iemitsu was lucky to not be there at the moment. The moment cleared, and Ieyasu-san sighed, digging through his pockets.

He eventually pulled out a pen.

“Here, take this. It’s not much, but I’m afraid I’ve procrastinated long enough on the errands I was actually supposed to be doing, and Ichiko will likely eat me if I don’t return soon- She’s a Hibari, please don’t look like that-” He hurried to clarify, because what , passing over his napkin. There was a number and address neatly written on it.

She continued looking at it until he was long gone, left with a goodbye and sincere wish to see her again.

She lasted a week before the men across the road apparently gave up on being subtle, deciding she was an idiot or something and wouldn’t notice the pieces on their waist and their constant glancing. That late afternoon, she went out, making it seem as though she were going for a shopping trip. It was easy to fool people, with how innocent she looked. Mako had always told her she should fool a businessman out of his fortune, with how good she was at acting. Nana had always told Mako that was horrible, and that she would rather go after a Yakuza, who was more likely to deserve bad things happening to him.

The irony was not lost on her.

The address Ieyasu-san had given her was in the historical district, where the old, rich families of Namimori and its surroundings gathered to live in traditional homes. The streets were quiet, most still cobblestone, and the houses far apart compared to suburbia. The house she finally stopped at was huge.

She felt ugly looking up at it, in her jeans and blouse, a small jacket thrown over it to ward off the chill. Nevertheless, she pushed open the gate, hesitantly walking the footpath to the front door.

How does one announce themselves at a home like this? She wondered. Oh. there was a doorbell to the left. She supposed the Hibari embraced modernity while keeping tradition.

The woman who answered it was small and aristocratic, with a rounded belly that spoke of a late pregnancy. She was dressed in a soft kimono, shades of red mixing with cream and white to form scattering leaves.

“Can I help you?” Nana startled from where she had been admiring the woman.

“Oh! I- I’m looking for Ieyasu-san? He gave me this address, for if I wanted to talk to him....” She trailed off, suddenly self-conscious. What was she doing here, trying to dig up the crime her husband had left her surrounded by? Bothering one of the town elders when he obviously wasn’t comfortable?

“You must be Nana-chan then, come in.” She was suddenly bussed by the smaller woman, being pushed in with a strength she didn’t expect. “He explained why you’re here, and honestly, I can’t say it’s surprising with who that family hires, no honour or courtesy at all.” She was sat at a kotatsu, watching dumbly as someone else came in with a kettle and cups. When-?

“My name is Hibari Ichiko. I’m the current head of the Hibari family.” Nana stared at her for a moment, before understanding the pointed look sent at her.

“Oh! U-uhm, my name is Sawada Nana. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Hibari-san.”

“Just Ichiko is fine, Nana-chan.” The woman waved her off, taking a sip of her tea. “Ieyasu should be here soon, that fool man always knows when we have guests, somehow.”

“A-ah, I see... Is he, uhm, family?” Nana asked hesitantly. The stranger finally left the two of them alone, giving Ichiko a small kiss on the cheek as he went deeper into the house. Husband, then?

“Technically. He was close to one of my something-great grandfathers.” Nana nodded slowly. There wasn’t much to say to that. Ichiko smiled gently at her. “You don’t need to be afraid, you know. I won’t bite. Probably.”

“I-” The door slid open, cutting her off to reveal an out-of-breath Ieyasu in a sleeping yukata.

“Ichiko! Why didn’t you wake me?” The brunette rolled her eyes at his petulant tone.

“Because it would have been impossible, you quibbling kitten. Since you’re finally up, attend to the poor girl you dragged all the way over here.” With that, she rose, as graceful as one could be five months pregnant, and strode out, slapping the blond on the back as she passed.

There was a heavy pause. Nana eyed the ruffled man, who was somehow pulling off a wounded animal look as he watched Ichiko leave. It was a stark contrast to the put-together man seen in town.

“Ieyasu-san?” He turned back to her. Smiled sheepishly as he sat down, taking Ichiko’s place at the kotatsu.

“Nana-san. What did you want to know?”

“What is Iemitsu involved in? The Yakuza? Mafia? Why didn’t he tell me? Why do you -” she cut herself off. “What did I get myself involved in?”

The smile on his face dimmed. “That’s a lot. Right. Is it alright if I’m blunt, Nana-san?” A pause. “Iemitsu is involved in the mafia, a family named La Vongola. Likely has been since his teens. I can’t say why he didn’t tell you, since there’s a general encouragement to do it if someone marries a civilian, which would be what you are.” He sighed, linking his hands together. “I know because I left that life, hoping my family would live peacefully. Going by Iemitsu’s life choices, it’s apparent that I didn’t try hard enough.”

“You...” Ieyasu smiled ruefully.

“My full name is Sawada Ieyasu, Nana. I used to go by Giotto di Vongola, before I came to Japan about a century ago.”

She turned that over in her mind. If it hadn’t been for Ieyasu and his involvement, Iemitsu would have been completely normal, and Nana wouldn’t be hearing this. Then again, if it hadn’t been for Ieyasu, Iemitsu also wouldn’t exist. And he hadn’t been the one to guide Iemitsu into this volley of choices.

“Would you like me to call you Giotto or Ieyasu?” She finally asked. Ieyasu stared, before his face resolved into a smile.

“I prefer Ieyasu.”

Nana rolled the small ring around in her hand. Reborn-san, one of Iemitsu’s colleagues, had been the one to gift the traditional stone to her, already set into a modest band of steel. The man had seemed to already know some of the tradition, avoiding precious metals for the more conductive material. Or maybe he had just known what was best for this sort of thing already. She appreciated it, even if now it left a nauseous feeling in her stomach to look at it.

What would light it, she wondered? She didn’t desire much, beyond answers and nebulous things that she wanted in her future. She wanted a child, or two, and to live with her family. She wanted to be able to take her children over to their grandfather’s and watch them play, see her father be a better grandfather than his own. She wanted someone to hold her close at night, and to be by her every day.

None of that was strong enough to light the fire apparently inside her. Thinking about the desire she had, though, the desperate want and determination for answers and truth, made her clench her hand, frown stealing across her face.

She wanted to be strong through this, more than anything.

The ring in her hand lit up, green flames licking over her palm.

Ieyasu, for all that he had promised her answers, seemed surprised every time she came back to the Hibari household, often on her days off or after the bakery had closed. He was usually put-together, wearing western clothing and reading a book when she arrived; on the rare occasions otherwise, it was always through some fault of Ichiko’s, the woman seemingly taking pleasure from messing with the elderly man.

That was another strange thing- Nana had known, obviously, that he was old, but hearing it from him herself, seeing black and white photos of him from the thirties, it made it sink . Here was a man who should by all rights be in a wheelchair, hunched over and wrinkling, or dead in the ground. He didn’t look a day over fifty.

He was also, as she had accidentally learned thanks to interrupting a spar, still in peak shape. She still couldn’t look at him sometimes without blushing.

“You don’t see this as weird, at all?” She finally asked one day, while she watched orange flame swim over his gloves. “These- these superpowers, your age, all the weapons?”

He had looked at her incredulously, fire snuffing out as he laughed. “Nana-san, I’ve found this insane since the day my head lit itself on fire and my friend dumped a bucket over my head trying to put it out. I just don’t bother reacting anymore.”

The day Iemitsu called, Nana almost melted the phone with how hard her hands were sparking. She had to reign in the urge- the sheer need  to break, to scream at him and show him she wasn’t helpless, she didn’t need to be in the dark, what was he thinking , why had she-

He called, and crooned over the phone about how he missed her. How he would be back in a month or so. She squealed appropriately and told him to come home as soon as he could manage. When she set the phone back in its cradle, she stood silently for a moment, mind blank. Then she picked it back up and called Miura-san to tell her she wouldn’t be in that day, something had just come up and she was just so sorry.

Ichiko-san answered the door again. She had a knowing expression, and led her without a word to the back garden. The blue stones hanging off her hair comb were almost a taunt, the ring around Nana’s index a mockery.

Ieyasu’s expression wasn’t surprised. It was mostly just sad. He let her collapse next to him, leaning into his warmth and breathing heavily into her palms as she just tried to field the sheer wall of emotions hitting.

At some point, his arm crept round her shoulders. He never spoke.

She hadn’t been made to quit her job, something that surprised and relieved her. Iemitsu, for all that he talked about supporting them so she could stay home and relax, had no qualms about her not being a housewife, and was happy to let her do what made her happy. It made for a convenient excuse when he finally came home and she couldn’t bear to be near him, the secrets between them choking her.

The worst of it all was that she loved him. She loved him, but the anger and betrayal was too much for it, choking it down and keeping her distant. Around his third day back, she had gone to her father’s, claiming she had work again, and asked him how to deal with it.

He had given her a long, long lecture about making sure you knew who you were marrying, before hugging her and telling her it would get better. Then she told him what had happened.

He took back what he said and told her to divorce him as soon as possible. Or fake her death and move to Tokyo.

The last night he was there, she lay in the bed as the sheets cooled and wondered how her life had become some bad novel. The next day, she hugged him tightly and called Ieyasu, wondering if he’d like to go out for lunch. When he launched into a tale about his friends over sandwiches, he didn’t censor himself, talking about flames and guns and property damage with the same easiness she mentioned her friends’ antics at clubs. She looked at his expressive face and giggled, letting the warmth of being near him settle deep into her bones, taking comfort in the feeling. Before they parted ways, he asked if he wanted to come over to the house for dinner next week.

She agreed.

“Do you realise what’s happening?”

Nana looked at Ichiko, utterly confused. The older woman- eight months along now and glowing with anticipation- grinned. She gestured expansively with one hand.

“Nana-chan, you’re meeting up with another man behind your husband’s back, having lunch with him and canoodling with him under sakura trees. It’s all very risque, for such a lovely girl like yourself!” Nana spluttered, trying to think of anything to say to that. Ichiko’s grin widened and she leaned forward, secretive. “There’s also that little bond I’ve been feeling lately, between you two- might lead right into a harmonization, hm?”

“I- no !” Nana curled into herself. She felt sick. “It can’t.”

“Nana...” The humour faded, and Ichiko sighed. “I apologise, I shouldn’t have joked about that.” They sat in silence, the mood uncomfortable now. Nana drew vague shapes in the tatami mat beneath her, eyes distant.

“It’s... not that I don’t. Like. Ieyasu-san. It’s. I married Iemitsu, I love  him, I shouldn’t like or love or look at anyone but him. Even harmonization, that’s something intimate, isn’t it?”

“It’s not a purely romantic bond, Nana-chan. It can lead to romance, or support it, but it does just the same for platonic relationships, or even purely sexual ones.” Ichiko pointed out. “And...” She shifted uncomfortably, frowning. “To be frank, I don’t think you owe that man any loyalty, with what he is hiding from you, Nana. Did you know, before I married Soichiro, before our relationship even grew serious, I explained to him just what the Hibari do? The bribing, the crime maneuvering, all of it. I even explained flames, because some members make use of them. I told him I didn’t want him to find out, or be put in danger because he didn’t know.”

“And he was fine with it?” Ichiko barked out a laugh, shaking her head.

“God no! He avoided me for a month, acted like I was the plague. Showed up at my door on White Day with a box of chocolates and bruised knuckles, asking me to teach him how to shoot a gun. One of the best days of my life.”

Nana looked down at her hands. The ring was still on her index, and with a moment of intensity, focusing on that determination in her, she watched it light with a dim glow.

“I didn’t even enjoy my own wedding.” She muttered, watching the flickers. Ichiko patted her shoulder, smiling sadly beside her.

“Maybe that was a sign then, yeah?”

Nana stared down at the pregnancy test. It was negative, but for the past two hours, she had been terrified, completely panicked at the possibility that it might not  be.

Her monthly had been scheduled to start today, and it hadn’t, and thus she had freaked out. Understandably. Or not understandably, because she wanted  children, she wanted  to build a family of her own, but the idea of having one at that moment was terrifying  for reasons she couldn’t parse.

It was her own fault for not insisting on condoms when Iemitsu last visited.

She looked at herself in the mirror, pale and sweaty, and heaved herself up, reaching for her work uniform.

Five months after her wedding, she went to visit her father again. He had been saying he felt ill and run down for the past few days, over the phone, and she had decided to bring him a soup, if only because she knew he’d appreciate the effort. She knew as well as anyone she served that the only thing she was good at cooking right now was hamburger steak.

No one answered when she rang the doorbell, and she frowned a little, straining to hear. Nothing. She dug her old key out of her pocket, managing to unlock the door while juggling her purse and the tupperware in hand. The house, when she entered, was dark, shades still pulled and the living room’s fan running lazily. Her father was nowhere to be seen.

“Tou-chan?” She peeked into the kitchen and study, finding no signs of life. Hesitantly, she set her things down on the dining table, and checked his room. She had never been allowed in, the idea of personal space heavily instilled in her from a young age. The room was as dark as the rest of the house, bed unmade with blankets hanging off the edge. His medication and books lay untouched on his nightstand, and nothing seemed out of place.

The last place she checked was the bathroom.

She regretted checking the bathroom.

When she came to, there was an arm wrapped around her, and a low voice continuously talking in her ear. The lights were on, conversations going on around her, and she dazedly lifted her head.

She was in the living room, sat on the couch. The arm round her shoulders turned out to belong to Ieyasu, who smiled weakly when she raised her head. The other people in the room were paramedics, and Soichiro-san, who was speaking to one and making small gestures towards her. He stopped when he saw her stare.

“Nana-san.” He didn’t bother smiling. “Do you understand where you are?”

“My father’s house?” She answered. “I came over to give my father some food.. And talk to him. He didn’t answer the door, so I came in to check, and...” She trailed off. Her mind was halting, refusing to go back to that moment. Soichiro understood nevertheless, and nodded.

“Yes. They’re taking him to the hospital now. Do you want to go with them?” She stared blankly.

Go with... it.

“No. No, I-” She cut herself off. Soichiro nodded again, and the paramedics filed out of the front door. She didn’t realise it had been open. He turned to follow them, before pausing for a moment.

“Let it be known, Nana-san, that Ichiko and I’s home will always be open to you. Don’t feel hesitant in coming to us or Ieyasu-oji.” With that, he left, quietly shutting the door behind him.

“Nana.” She turned numbly to Ieyasu, who was still a warm weight by her side. He hesitated for a moment, face flickering between sympathy and worry. “...What do you need?”

“I don’t know.” She said. “I... The last thing I. I- I remember. Is opening the bathroom door. I don’t- how did you and Soichiro-san...?” Ieyasu smiled bitterly.

“I had the feeling something was wrong, and it combined with the sheer panic I was feeling- apparently from you- pushed me into calling you. Once I got the bare minimum out of you, I had Soichiro call the emergency services. We found you out here.”

“Feeling...?” She blinked. “We. Harmonized?” Ieyasu shifted away, drawing his hands into his lap.

“Yes. I didn’t- it wasn’t something I meant to happen, it-. There’s. I’m sorry, Nana-san.”

“Why?” He tilted his head. “It’s not like you’re going to use me, or have me jump into crime. It’s you, Ieyasu-san.” Any other time, she would have delighted in the flush that climbed his face, and the way he fidgeted, but right now.. “I- could we, um, not. Be here?”

He looked at her askance for a moment, before seemingly coming back to the situation, realising where they were. He grimaced, standing up hurriedly. “I- yes, sorry, yeah. Do you, er, want to go home, or maybe to a friend’s house...?” She shook her head.

“I just don’t want to be alone right now.”

Mist flames, Nana absently mused, were absolutely baffling. Next to her was Ieyasu, babbling on about how Ichiko had roped him into a baby shopping spree because he’s already gone through it all. Except gone was the blond-muscled-mature image, replaced with that of a petite woman her age, with black hair and faintly hazel eyes in a blue dress. All thanks to the little ring round his finger.

She unlocked the door to the house, twitching at the image that popped in her head of the upstairs bathroom, dark and- she pushed it away. The house was as she had left it, windows open to let the breeze in. She settled on the couch as Ieyasu puttered round, still talking. She had her purse, she realised idly, clutched on her right arm like it would disappear if she let go. She carefully put it on the coffee table, adjusting its position once-twice-three times.

The doorbell rang, and Ieyasu ran to get it, snapping at whoever it was. Absently, Nana leaned to the right, peering down the hall.

Ichiko was eyeing the man up and down with a critical eye. “That dress is the dullest thing I’ve ever seen. Where’s Nana, I have booze and cookies.”

Nana laughed helplessly as the Italian sputtered indignantly.

Nana stared at the phone in her hand. She had to, she had to, but she didn’t want to. Drawing in a breath, she hit the call button. It took nearly a minute for anyone to pick up.

“Nana-chan? Don’t you have work on Tuesdays?” Iemitsu’s voice was cheerful, if a tad confused. “Is everything alright?”

“I.” She halted. There was a rock in her throat. She cleared it. It didn’t help. “I need to dig into our funds a little sooner than I thought.”

“What happened? Did something happen to the house? Was there a fire?” He paused, voice growing a touch hopeful. “Are you-”

“My father died.” The almost question made her wince, made her stomach roil in protest. “I- he left me his savings, but he didn’t have much left, and it won’t cover all of the funeral costs.”

“Oh, Nana. I’m so sorry. Don’t worry about expenses, just do what you need to.” Iemitsu hesitated, and across the line, Nana could hear someone hissing at him. “Do they know what, uh..?”

“They’re saying it was cancer in his, um. Everything, by that point.” And wasn’t that a punch in the gut, realising her father must have known and hidden it. Hadn’t wanted her to worry, probably.

She had screamed her lungs out when she got home that night.

“Oh, Nana...” The hissing grew into a shout, and there were more voices in the background clamoring for attention. “Look, god, I’m sorry, I’ll have to call you later, but you can call me, right? Whenever you want. I love you, honey.”

“I love you too, Iemitsu.” The line cut with little fanfare. She stared and stared and stared at the wall in front of her.

She didn’t call back.

Ieyasu was at her door. She blinked at him for a moment, confused.

“I was wondering if you wanted to step out with me? I know it can’t be good to stay cooped up in home, stewing in your thoughts.” He smiled sweetly at her, adjusting the orange strap of his dress. It was a nice dress, nicer than the last one.

“Okay.” She said, and she hurried to lock up the house. She took the arm offered to her, tension she had forgotten flowing off as their flames danced in greeting.

Later, standing in front of an exhibit as she watched a pair of lions roughhouse, she wondered if this was how proper dates were supposed to be. Iemitsu and her, after their first meeting, had... not, mostly meeting randomly and then talking on and on, or him popping by her school to give her small things. One of the small things had ended up being his ring. In retrospect, she’d barely known anything about him when she agreed, barely spent time round him. She wondered if it had been Sky Attraction that had pulled her in.

As they sat and ate greasy zoo food, she couldn’t help looking over at Ieyasu. Four months into this friendship, and she knew as much about him as he did her. She could list off his favorite food- plain linguine, of all things- as well as the names of his passed guardians. He could likely call off the names of her school friends, and point out her favorite pastry from Miura-san’s bakery.

“Nana?” She focused. He was watching her hesitantly, now, fingers twisting in his lap. “I know it may hurt, but do you want to talk about... your father? I know when the last of my men passed..” He hesitated, eyes going distant. “I was fortunate to have Yuuki with me, and talking of them to her helped ease the pain.”

She considered that.

“I think you and the others being here helps the most.” Was what she finally settled on. “But. There’s not much to say about him anyways. He...” A memory came to mind, old and fuzzy with pain. She had been fifteen or sixteen, screaming at him because it had been a truly horrible month, with her cat dying and her exams yielding the lowest scores among her friends. One particularly cruel student had seen, and told her the only thing she’d likely be good at, with those scores and her body, was popping out children. That, combined with being told she couldn’t go out that weekend for some reason she couldn’t remember, had set her off, yelling and crying and, looking back, sparking just a bit. Her father had simply sat it out before tugging her close, shoving her face into his shoulder.

“....He was patient.” She said. “And gentle, even when I didn’t deserve it.” She looked out at the crowds walking by. “I don’t think I’ll ever stop feeling like this.”

“You won’t, to an extent.” Ieyasu admitted, scratching at his chest. “But it gets better. You’ll have new people, and they won’t fill the gap, but they’ll help soothe the ache, and ease it into healing smoother than it would.”

She stared at him. He didn’t seem to notice, until she reached out and grasped his hand. They sat like that, leaned in close and quiet, until it was time to leave.

Three months from her one-year anniversary, Nana walked into the Hibari’s lounge room to an explosion of colour, and multiple voices cheering. She blinked dazedly around, taking in the sight. Someone had pushed a few tables together to make a decent-sized working space, and plopped a monstrosity of a cake on it, all strawberries and chocolate sloppily slathered on. Ichiko was sitting with a pouting Kyouya while Soichiro and Tetsuya hovered; Miura-san and her husband were there as well, along with Mako and Ryuko, who had dragged their little Ryohei along. In the middle of it all, Ieyasu sat with a pleased grin.

“Eh?”

“Happy birthday, Nana-chan!” Mako darted forward, wrapping her arms around the brunette’s shoulders. “I can’t believe you’re already twenty, when you’re still this tiny!”

“Oh. I, um, forgot about that.” There were a few chuckles at that, and Mako rolled her eyes, tugging the other girl towards the table.

“Well, anyways,  it’s your special day, so we all got together and- did this! No candles, because I remember your sixteenth, but still!”

“How did a cake turn out like this when you had a baker helping you?”

“Ichiko is about as good at decorating as she is at subtlety.” Soichiro cut in. His wife whacked him, which made Kyouya squeal in delight. Nana giggled at them all, because really.

What followed was a mess. But a fun  mess. After the cake had been cut and eaten, Ryohei had decided he deserved some too, despite only having four teeth, and started trying to grab handfuls of the rest, which had them attempting to restrain the infant from overdosing on sugar. Kyouya, enjoying the chaos, had joined in by taking fistfuls of the cake on his father’s plate and flinging it at whoever got close enough. By the time they had calmed them both down, Soichiro and Ryuko had been drenched in sweets.

“Now that we’ve all been humiliated by infants, why don’t we get to the gifts?” Ryuko said dryly.

“Gifts-? You all know I don’t need-” But Nana’s protests were waved off, as one of the lower members of the Hibari rushed off to grab everything. Nana could only stare at the pile he brought in.

“I don’t- this much?”

“It’s nice spoiling friends, Nana-chan.” Ichiko told her solemnly, before shoving a box into her hands. “Me first.”

Inside was a coat Nana distinctly remembered admiring on one of their outings, up until she saw the price tag and decided it could wait until next christmas. She ran her hands over the fabric, marvelling at the feel, before she noticed something off.

“There’s- another layer in this, isn’t there? She fingered the inner lining as Ichiko nodded proudly.

“Kevlar! I had it sown in. Now you can be stylish and  protected!” Nana appreciated the enthusiasm at least. Ichiko accepted her hug with a smile, chuckling when Kyouya demanded one as well. Soichiro was next, his box comparatively smaller. Inside was a set of recipe books, as well as pastel green mittens. Miura-san and her husband had thought along the same lines, gifting her kitchen supplies (many ones she didn’t have, out of necessity) as well as an apron. Mako, being her usual self, and knowing exactly what Nana had gotten herself into, had invested in a taser, as well as tonfa of all things. Nana carefully set those aside and ignored the promising gleam in her friend’s eye.

Ryuko had gotten her a mess of seeds, different packets of things like melons and tomatoes mixed together. Ryuko was practical.

It didn’t occur to her until later that night that Ieyasu hadn’t given her anything, or even spoken much, until all the others had gone, leaving only them and the Hibari to lounge around quietly. He tapped her on the arm once they were alone, quietly gesturing for her to follow him. She did so, walking through the corridors to a room tucked away in the back of the house.

The bedroom, because that was what it was, was sparse, little to be seen beyond the bed and a bookshelf loaded with scrolls, knicknacks, and the occasional actual book. Ieyasu avoided it entirely, instead going to the closet at the far right. Gently, he pulled out a long, stout box from the bottom.

“Nana-chan. This... these are for you.” He passed the box to her reverently, an indecipherable look on his face. “I- would you mind terribly not opening it now? Wait until you are home, please.”

She agreed, because what else was she going to do when faced with eyes like that.

She almost cried later when, inside, she found two intricate, silk kimono. One, a near-blue white decorated with leaping fish and shells in iridescent greens and purples. The other, a cheery cream, with flowers and leaves peppering the fabric.

The difference in age between the two was obvious, and startling, as well as the care paid to each of them. It felt like a choice.

The breaking point for her was Iemitsu’s next visit. Unplanned and unexpected, Nana had gone out for work one day and came back to Iemitsu, clothes strewn about the living room as a duffel bag lay open by the couch. The man himself was in the kitchen, perusing the cupboards with an air of bemusement.

“Iemitsu! You’re home!” She exclaimed. She tried to hide any hint of panic at that fact. He grinned at her, scooping her up into a hug that left her breathless and dizzy, and wondering when did she ever find that endearing? Her head was spinning before she even had her feet back on the ground.

The next week and a half- because that was how long he stayed, not even two weeks- were tense for her, always feeling on edge and sharp and barely resisting the urge to push and push and push. She tried, sometimes, asking after his work, his coworkers, how they were all foreigners, how construction meant going overseas. He dodged the matter every time.

When she asked him how long it would be before he could stay for longer, he dodged that question, too. When she, again, lay on cooling sheets, condom used this time, she asked herself why she was staying when there was an alternative with much more happiness promised.

The day the man left, she sedately walked over to the Hibari home, stopping by the flower shop for a bouquet of  red carnations and daffodils. The woman serving her gave her a dubious look, but Nana ignored it in favour of shifting her rings, slipping the flame one to her ring finger. The golden band went into her purse.

Soichiro was the one to answer the door. He looked from the bouquet in her hands to the look on her face before silently moving out of the way. Ieyasu’s expression, when she entered the room, was one of utter confusion, setting down the cards he’d been dealing to some of the branch members. He didn’t get a word in before she was setting the flowers in his lap, leaning forward to press a kiss to his cheek.

“Would you like to have dinner this evening, Ieyasu?”

Chapter Text

Ieyasu held the small, wiggling thing in his arms and marveled. Nana’s sweaty and tired on the hospital bed, smiling dazedly at him as his holds their… Theirs.

He has a son, again. A son with hair the perfect mix of his and Nana’s, healthy lungs and body, and the sweetest face he’s ever seen, even when it’s scrunched in displeasure. The baby’s eyes are the blue of every infant, and he vehemently hopes that they change to the chocolate brown he wakes up to every day.

“ Io battezzo una Vongola, e mio erede. Che tu puoi vivere felicemente .” He whispers into the baby’s downy hair, before he passes him back to Nana. Nana, bless her heart, doesn’t comment on the moisture he knows is on his face, or his shaking hands. She only pressed a kiss to his cheek as she guided the babe to her breast and hummed.

“I was thinking Tsunayoshi would be a good name?” He nodded fervently.

“It’s perfect.”

G had commented one day, while Ieyasu was slowly burning each and every piece of budgetary paperwork near him, that men and women would probably never stop throwing themselves at him. With how hopeless Ieyasu is, he’d probably end up with three children and a harem before he realised what was happening.

Granted, considering that was pretty much what happened at the end there in Italy, he can’t be irritated with the man for making fun. But he didn’t expect it to keep happening .

Toshiko, may she rest in peace, had practically grabbed him by the shoulders and dragged him into marriage, when they had first met. The young woman had been demure but not at all hesitant in her desires, making it clear that while she would accept rejection, she wouldn’t accept his blind obliviousness.

Alaude hadn’t stopped smirking at him for weeks when he caught them in the damn garden.

And now, nearly a century after she had been put into the ground, here was Nana. Bright Nana, crackling with Lightning flames and pulled into a horrendous situation because his descendant was a damned fool. He had approached her because his Intuition had poked him and told him she would be important in some way, and he had taken that in the may manipulate or help someone sort of way, because that was what happened with most of his Guardians.

He didn’t expect slowly harmonising with the young woman and gifting family heirlooms before he even realised he was in love with her. But it happened, and they were happy.

Tsunayoshi is born and amazing, a copy of his mother with dashes of Iemitsu thrown in. He has the Sawda nose and chin and her eyes, and he’s so, so grateful that he could have this, that the pregnancy was successful even with him gone the first three months. He hadn’t even known about it before then, so he could be excused some, but. He still wishes he had been there, for Nana’s sake. She said it was alright, and kissed him when he finally held his son, returned from a mission in Palermo and a week late.

Iemitsu hated that he had to alternate between staying for a month and leaving for two, but Nana seemed to understand and CEDEF needs him. The last time he left, someone managed to set all their paperwork on fire and there wre threats of a coup. Fucking Xanxus.

The week Tsunayoshi is born, Ichiko kindly but firmly tells him that he needs to move out.

“A child needs his father, uncle. It’s not like you’ll be intruding, anyways.” She said as she handed him cardboard boxes. He stared at them in bafflement.

“The Vongola have people watching the house. And Iemitsu.” He said numbly. Ichiko gave him a patient look, and picked up his Mist ring, holding it out.

“Then make so you don’t look like Giotto di Vongola. Or, better yet, have one of the Clan members cloak your house in a low-level illusion so you don’t have to wear this all the time. Whichever you choose, uncle, it doesn’t matter.” He held the ring in one hand and looked at the boxes.

“I have a family again.” He said faintly. Ichiko snorted and pat his shoulder.

“You always have, Ieyasu, it’s just gotten bigger. Take lots of pictures of Tsu-kun for me.”

Inexplicably, Ieyasu becomes a stay-at-home father.

Inexplicably, Ieyasu does not know how to handle a baby.

Maria and Ricardo had taken over with Vittore, since he was supposed to be their blood son, and Toshiko had given him one look and forbid him from most everything but diaper changing.

He is very good at diaper changing.

He stares across the table at Tsunayoshi after he kisses Nana goodbye. Tsunayoshi burbles and slaps one chubby hand against his chair. Well. It can’t be that hard, can it?

It proves to be weirdly easy. Burping is disgusting and he’d rather not go through another panic like the one he had during bathtime, but otherwise, Tsunayoshi is a quiet baby. He watches Ieyasu move and speak like the Italian is an otherworldly being and squeals delightedly whenever he’s directly addressed. Ieyasu’s taken to cooing at him in Italian because it’s so cute, Japanese is too much effort when he’s just babbling.

He’s watching Tsunayoshi try to practically strangle his lion plush when the doorbell rings, and he has to get up to go get it. With precautions, of course, because the few visitors they would get would have yelled at him to hurry the fuck up by now. His pistol is in his right hand as he nudges the door open, smiling brightly.

Ricardo stares back with an unimpressed scowl. “When were you going to tell me you spawned again?”

“...Hiei?” Ricardo shoved past him and Ieyasu let him, because he’s still a little? Shocked? How did Ricardo find him? What was he doing in Japan of all places?

“Oi, he looks like you!” Ieyasu quickly hurried back to the living room, because he wouldn’t put it past Ricardo to swear in front of a baby and he doesn’t want Tsunayoshi picking anything like that up. Ricardo had the baby in his lap when he turned the corner, gently squeezing the boy’s palms as he stares up at the elderly man. Tsunayoshi doesn’t seem at all put out by the sudden appearance of a stranger, tugging at every dangly thing on Ricardo’s person like it’s a field day.

“...Oh.” Ricardo gives him a derisive look.

“What, did you think I’d be testing him right off the bat? He’s two months old.” Ieyasu shifted and pointedly didn’t look at his cousin. “Giotto, seriously, screw you.”

“You spend your free time giving yourself grey hair by bedding every woman you can persuade and getting into bar fights.” Ieyasu pointed out, “I’ve learned not to expect much in the way of behaviour from you.” Ricardo doesn’t refute his point because he’s completely right, the bastard.

“What’s his name?”

“Tsunayoshi.”

“A strong name. His mother?” Ieyasu couldn’t help smiling at the thought of Nana.

“She’s a Lightning. Sawada Nana. Bubbly as all get out until you get her mad.” Ricardo raised a brow, easily lifting Tsuna back into his lap when the infant made to tumble out of it.

“You hitched it? I thought you vowed not to after the last one.” Ieyasu fidgeted.

“How did you know I was here, exactly? Or about Tsunayoshi?” His cousin narrowed his eyes.

“Hibari was very agreeable to telling me, when I visited. Giotto .” Ieyasu hummed noncommittally. “ WHAT DID YOU DO. ”

“For once, for once, this isn’t on me, okay.”

Nana’s nanny is… strange. She’s tall, not an ounce of muscle on her as far as Iemitsu can tell. A Mist-Sky duality, which is slightly terrifying, but she’s also latent, which is reassuring. She has a calm temperament, rarely showing agitation or stress, and tends to disappear into the background if you don’t actively engage her. She weaves around Iemitsu whenever he’s at home, and stays close enough to Tsuna that the boy’s practically a limpet. He had expressed a worry about that to Nana, early on, about how Tsuna may become too dependent on it and her, and Nana had laughed and told him not to worry about it. So he didn’t. Mostly.

“Ah, Miku-san?” The nanny looked up from where she was reading something. She pinned him with a laser focus that never seemed to appear when Nana was home. “Do you know where Nana-chan is?”

“She’s out with Ichiko-chan.” Iemitsu smiled and went back to the kitchen. Who the hell was Ichiko?

Ichiko is Hibari Ichiko. She is terrifying and Iemitsu is glad someone like that is protective of his wife. It bodes well for her continued safety.

Ieyasu finds his descendant to be disgraceful.

He meets the man under the guise of Miku, the house’s caretaker when Nana isn’t able to do it herself, and it’s… He never would have acted in such a way. Some level of concealment was to be expected with the Mafia, but to act like such a raging buffoon at all times…

He was very lucky he could pass his dislike off as an offense of his “Japanese sensibilities”. Wife constantly being left on her lonesome, and all. The man didn’t seem to notice his frigidity in the first place, so it didn’t matter.

The sake bottles , lord in heaven. Ieyasu instantly took to hiding any drop of alcohol in the house when Iemitsu was there. He also enrolled Ichiko in proofing the house, setting essential and incriminating things in places the man wouldn’t come across them. It was the best he could do, with the situation the way it was. He didn’t need the mafia knowing about him.

He would watch him, see if he ever slipped (or intended to), and keep close to his son and love.

Tsunayoshi’s first word is an accident. His next words are problems .

“Pappa! Pappa ab’acho!” Ieyasu stared at Tsuna. Tsuna stared back and raised his arms insistently.

“You want up, Tsunayoshi?” The boy nodded like his head was about to fall off. “Say appu then, Tsuna. Appu.”

“Ab’acio!” Oh god. Nana was going to kill him. He still picked up Tsuna and cuddled the boy until he was squealing.

Nana did not kill him. Nana spent ten minutes cooing at Tsunayoshi for trying to copy his father and parroting what little Italian she had learned back at him. It was, in reality, quite a bit, but it would only really help her if she was lost or flirting with someone.

“Well it’s not like he can’t just pick up Japanese.” she said later that night, when he asked why she wasn’t mad. “Children are like that- they can pick up nearly anything as long as they’re young enough. Their brains are made for it, I think? There was a study.”

Well. That was great and all. But Tsunayoshi wasn’t exactly old enough to understand the intricacies of their family problems, and thus didn’t really know that speaking butchered Italian when Iemitsu was home was a bad idea .

The man had been trying to get the toddler to call him Papa for the past hour. He was sprawled out on the carpet, with Tsunayoshi in front of him. It was a valiant effort, if completely impossible because of Ieyasu and Tsuna’s intuition. The boy seemed to know when it was him, whether he was wearing his Mist ring or not.

“Come on, Tuna-fish, just say Papa! Or tou-chan! Sound it out- Paaaa-pa.” The baby just stared at him. Ieyasu stayed in the kitchen and tried not to burn the food he was making. “Tsun-aaaa.”

“Mi-cho?”

“Eh?” Ieyasu looked back. Tsuna, bless his tiny heart, was offering his lion plush to Iemitsu. The man looked between it and the babe before hesitantly taking it, smiling. “Did you name your lion Michi, Tsuna?” The boy didn’t pay attention, giddy at the man taking it and searching for something else to grab. Ieyasu’s absent smile froze when the boy grabbed the toy dog Nana had gotten in a bid to desensitize him to the neighbor’s puppy.

“Cu’cholo!” He presented it to Iemitsu proudly. Iemitsu finally caught on to what Ieyasu ’s son was saying.

“Cucciolo?” Tsuna nodded vigorously and pushed the toy into his hands, looking for something else to continue his little game. Iemitsu raised his voice, not turning away from Tsuna. “Miku-san?”

Ieyasu turned off the burner and wished to God that he hadn’t banned alcohol from the house until Tsuna’s thirteenth. “Yes, Iemitsu-san?”

“Why is my son speaking Italian?” Ieyasu met the man’s hard stare with a blank look.

“Nana-chan said you work there most of the time, Iemitsu-san. She’s been making an effort to learn and teach Tsunayoshi-kun.” He went over to the bookshelf by the sofa, pulling out the set of books he had tentatively gotten for her when asked. “Here.”

Iemitsu flipped through the beginner Italian books like they held a bomb in them somewhere. His suspicious expression slowly faded to a touched if worried one, and Ieyasu breathed a sigh of relief.

“Aa, I didn’t know she was making such an effort. I would have told her she didn’t need to.” Ieyasu shrugged uncomfortably.

“Yes. Well. It’s Nana.” And that was all that really needed to be said. The men shared a commiserating look, then went back to their own spheres of activity.

CEDEF could no longer be run on its own. This was the second meltdown of hierarchy in a month and he couldn’t keep mediating from the sidelines.

He told Nana that he needed to leave, soon, and she looked so disappointed that he almost wanted to take it back instantly, stay longer and keep rolling Tsuna along the carpet as he giggled. But he couldn’t.

“Be safe out there, sweetie.” She said as she hugged him. He couldn’t promise that, he’d break it instantly, so he spun her around instead and said he’d be thinking of her every day, that he’d try to come home as soon as possible. She squeaked and he knew in an instant it wasn’t a good sound, putting her down and apologising, looking her over, making sure he hadn’t hurt her.

“Just- don’t do that again? Please? I think the pregnancy made me a… little more sensitive.”

Sawada Iemitsu has no idea how females work. Nana uses this to her advantage right up until Tsunayoshi is fourteen and helping bathe his adopted siblings.

Iemitsu says goodbye at the airport, hugging her and Tsuna tightly and telling them he loves them, and boards the plane that will fly fourteen hours to Rome.

The troubles in CEDEF are simply precursors to Xanxus. He doesn’t come back for three years.

At age five, Tsunayoshi is precocious, always smiling at his mother or father as he explores and asks questions. He’s bright for his age, and Ieyasu and Nana try to encourage whenever they can. Ieyasu’s taken to leading him on walks throughout the city, pointing out and expounding on random things in intermittent Italian and Japanese. Nana was right, four years ago; the boy picks up Japanese naturally despite Ieyasu’s… stumblings, and only has difficulty switching between the two. The Roman alphabet is slow progress, but Tsuna is adapting to it admirably.

The town residents are positively delighted whenever they see the two of them, smiling or making conversation. It’s the most active Ieyasu’s been in decades. He can’t say he regrets it.

They have dinner with the Sasagawas and Hibaris whenever schedules allow, and it’s hysterical watching what are slowly becoming clones of Knuckle and Alaude interact with Tsunayoshi. The boy is shy to a fault around other children, and it’s been proving to be little deterrent to Ryohei’s enthusiasm and Kyouya’s adoration for anything small and fluffy. Kyoko, bless her heart, helps pull him out of his shell without simultaneously terrifying him.

Ieyasu gives Nana a stun baton for her twenty-fifth birthday and adoringly watches her terrify Hibari branch members. Ricardo, grudgingly allowed to attend the celebrations (Nana’s words, not his), watches her admiringly as one hit downs a man twice her size.

“You always pick the terrifying ones.” He commented. Ieyasu hummed happily in agreement. He was happy, Ricardo was amused at his happiness, and the Hibari were satisfied to see him doing something once more.

Then Iemitsu finally came back. Timoteo in tow. The guards set in place in Namimori, usually incompetent, hiked up on their duty, keeping watch at all hours to have something substantial to report back before they appeared. And Ieyasu couldn’t stay.

That damnable ring he had agreed to Talbot making still held a shard of his flames, after all these years, and Timoteo would recognise him instantly where Iemitsu didn’t. Being recognised would endanger Nana and Tsunayoshi, endanger Ricardo and all the other Skies when they realised why he was alive, and he couldn’t allow that.

So he left. Went with Ricardo on what the man was calling a bender but what was in reality them heading to Tokyo and Ricardo ridiculing him for not keeping up with technology. They spent two weeks wandering around various shops- and bars, when Rico insisted- waiting for Nana to call back, say the coast was clear.

She called three and a half weeks later, twelve days later than expected, crying on the phone. Through hysterics, she got out that Tsuna had done something- his head had lit up, he’d accidentally activated his flames, she thinks- and the two mafiosi had seen. And they’d done something , and now Tsuna was tripping everywhere, forgetting things he usually wouldn’t, walking around in a daze as if barely anything interested him. He’d barely eat, barely drank, too trapped in his own head. She’d asked what was wrong, and all he could tell her was that everything seemed fuzzy.

Tsunayoshi, when Ieyasu saw him, was horrifying. His Will, usually bright and welcoming, was chained down, smothered underneath a far stronger Sky flame. Ricardo had sucked in a breath and swore when he saw the little boy, and Ieyasu would have done the same if he wasn’t trying to keep a straight face for his family.

“Tsunayoshi, io te ho bisogno di restare immobile, va bene?” He kissed the boy’s forehead gently when he nodded miserably, getting a feel of the- the seal .

It was amateurish. Sloppy, rough, no refinery , meant to confine and never loosen without repeated battering or the return of the sealer’s flames. Made by someone who’d only heard of the mechanics and never actually faced one.

Ieyasu breathed in and out, closed his eyes. Giotto opened them, flame blazing.

“Call Ichiko and close the borders. We’re purging the town.”

The Hibari are efficient, well-used to bending the law for whatever their ideals of justice are at the time. Ichiko guides them with an iron fist, and takes a perverse pleasure in foisting each and every non-allied criminal out of the tri-town area.

She’d seen Tsu-kun, when she’d gone to see the Sawada demanding what the hell they were thinking with their orders. He’d been pale, drifting in and out, Giotto hovering over him and doing something unseen with his flames.

Her twice-great grandfather had wrote that there was a distinction, between Ieyasu and Giotto, nevermind that it was the same person. It was the difference between night and day, obvious to all but the blind. She hadn’t understood what he meant, until now.

So she had her people sweep the area, chasing out anyone that wasn’t theirs and making it clear they weren’t welcome anymore. It was the least she could do for the couple, as worried as they were.

Tsuna’s grades have plummeted compared to nursery school, according to Nana, which was worrying, but to be expected, he supposed. There were reports with seals in the past of lowered attention spans and issues with concentrating, but nothing dire; Tsuna probably just needed a firm hand to guide him. He was sure the teachers would manage.

Tsuna was being bullied, Nana wrote one month, and the children were needlessly cruel and starting to leave bruises. Well, as distasteful as that was, it’d help the boy toughen up a bit, wouldn’t it? He loved Tuna-fish, but the boy was so… soft, sensitive. If he stayed that way, he’d never make it in the real world, much less get married or go to university. One had to be strong, he wrote, and he was sure Tsuna could persevere.

Lal Mirch slapped him upside the head when he mentioned it and didn’t speak to him for a week, but that was Lal Mirch. She always had issues with him.

Tsuna almost died, Nana doesn’t write, he was on the threshold for two months because of what you did and you don’t seem to regret it. He can’t concentrate because of the scars you left, she doesn’t say, and it’s going to take years to correct and heal with preemptive training. Tsuna is terrified of you now , she doesn’t scream, how could you have thought this was okay.

Why did I marry you? She erases after she accidentally starts a letter with it. She stares at the door where, downstairs,  Ieyasu is guiding Tsuna through meditation exercises. Ieyasu’s birthday is in a few weeks, and the man has been holding the burden of the incident over himself for more than a year. He condemns himself for not staying close and teaching Tsuna control sooner, despite his age. She condemns herself for letting Iemitsu stay close, danger be damned. And Tsuna, she knows, condemns himself for his parents’ sudden guilt and upset.

They all deserve something to celebrate.

She asks Ichiko to draw up a marriage certificate, perfectly legal thanks to Namimori’s multicultural legalities, certifying the union of one Shimizu Nana and Sawada Ieyasu, as well as tickets to Florence. The man cries for a good five minutes before he draws her and Tsuna into a hug.

Why did I marry you ? She can’t help almost writing every letter after, sitting by her husband with their child puttering around happily.

Yamamoto Tsuyoshi knows exactly who and what Ieyasu is, and makes no effort to disguise his wariness towards the man. His wife, God guide her soul, had always scolded him for it and apologised to Ieyasu, despite him never being offended. She had been a good woman. When they cross paths, which proves to be often due to their respective children, they show the respect you do to a threat before moving on. Tsuna stares at the other boy, but never approaches.

Sasagawa Ryuko and Mako were cuttingly approving of him thanks to his relationship with their friend, and made no effort to hide their like for him. They approached him often in public, asking after Nana or himself, how the family was, how any personal projects of his were. Beyond the Hibari and Nana, they’re some of the only ones to approach him in a long while without strings, and that’s why he isn’t surprised when eventually their Sun and Mist hum with his Sky. Ryohei and Kyoko frequently came over after school when possible, going over homework with Tsuna or playing strange games the older boy invented. The visits decreased in frequency as they grew older due to club activities and the growing gap in social circles, but the three still stayed close, and their mothers were never far behind.

Kyouya begins to avoid Tsuna as he becomes more and more obsessed with his little vigilante group. It was a mistake telling him about Ieyasu’s early days, he realises in retrospect. Nevertheless, for all that the boy scowls and scoffs at Tsunayoshi now, he still goes the extra mile of terrorising anyone who so much as upsets the boy.

Ichiko is Ichiko, and he has a feeling that’s half the reason he wakes up one day with four bonds humming deep in his flames. She’s there by mid afternoon, grinning and slapping him upside the head when he stares at her in resignation.

“I’d say Nana just made you finally start moving again.” She muses, once they’ve stopped bickering. The sun’s warm on their faces, and her kimono contrasts harshly against the green grass. “You opened up. You’re not just. Existing, anymore.”

“Was I?” She glances at him wryly.

“Uncle, we had to remind you to go outside the family grounds at least once a week.” Well. She has a point.

Tsuna is ten when Ieyasu wakes up and realises abruptly that he’s suddenly only two guardians short of a full Set and Tsuna’s building up prospects like a proper Ascendant. He spends the next hour hyperventilating while Nana sleepily rubs his back and having a crisis over if his friends would judge him for this.

They wouldn’t. G would have slapped him senseless for going this long. Asari would have passive-aggressively fed him tea and shitty biscuits until he got over himself.

Something settles in him, and he goes down to breakfast that morning with his eyes shining a bright amber. Tsuna reflects the colour back at him in his own eyes.

Massimo, Enrico, and Frederico di Vongola are dead. Xanxus is back, but considering Giotto is half sure he caused the deaths anyways, he isn’t counting on the boy’s steadfast leadership or nomination.

The pictures he finds of the boy are damn suspicious, but Ricardo won’t answer his calls. Nana refuses to try, as disgusted as she is by the womanizer.

The only ones left are Tsunayoshi and Iemitsu himself. Iemitsu won’t take the mantle, he knows, meaning Tsuna is going to be the Decimo. There is no “may” about it. Either he becomes it, or he dies escaping it. And Giotto can’t stay, because he’s heard word of one of the Arcobaleno coming to train Tsuna himself.

It rubs him endlessly, and he constantly has to stop himself from slipping into Dying Will mode from sheer anger. Ryuko and Mako keep him busy, Ryuko packing his things while Mako scrubs any hints of his flames and presence from the Sawada home. Ichiko arranges another guest room for him and arranges a few branch members to tail the Arcobaleno when he arrives so they can determine his patterns.

Nana holds Tsuna and has the Hibari’s solicitor draw up divorce papers. The next time Iemitsu appears, he’s not going away unscathed.

Iemitsu hums to himself, walking up the path to the house. The Varia are in town for the ring battles, and it provides him the perfect opportunity to visit his family. He hasn’t seen them in four years, thanks to the catastrophe that was Xanxus and the decision to unfreeze him and the Hibari’s sudden territoriality. But now he can come to Japan worry free, since all his worries are already here!

He’s trying to stay optimistic so he doesn’t drink himself under the table within two hours.

Reborn told him the kids would all be out right now, so he threw open the door with little restraint, grinning.

“Nana-chan! I’m home!”