Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Basil knew he was working for the man who was probably the most powerful figure in the world.

This thought scared him, sometimes. How could one man have so much power? How can the lives of millions change on one man's whims? How can the fate of the world be determined by one 24-year-old man?

But then he'd remember who the man in question was, and he'd smile. He couldn't think of a better person to be the most powerful person in the world. The world was in good hands under Tsunayoshi's guidance.

And so Basil was content to simply marvel at Tsunayoshi's power.

Basil had seen Tsunayoshi-dono do astounding (some people not from Vongola might say impossible) things in the past 10 years – things he wouldn't have believed to be true had he not seen them in person.

Basil had seen the Vongola Decimo conquer nations with a few words and a smile.

Although Sawada Tsunayoshi was a deeply moral man, he had learned cunning and ruthlessness through his dealings with the mafia.

He employed those skills for the sake of his friends and the community as a whole, yes, but he employed them.

This was just one instance of such.

Using the corruption in the countries' governments, as well as the subtle implantation of certain spies, he had slowly but steadily gained control of various countries. He had people in the United States, China, Russia, England, France, and even North Korea. All laws or persons deemed relevant were shown to him, and he had a say in determining what passed and what didn't.

Nothing occurred that he did not know of.

Using his influence, he kept an eye on the nuclear bomb threats from North Korea, aided with the immigration crisis in North Korea, made moves towards shortening the economic disparity between classes in India.

Of course, he also used his influence to ensure that no member of his Famiglia was harmed, and that all those who tried were severely punished.

The point being Sawada Tsunayoshi had asserted his claim on several countries worldwide, and Hungary would be no different.

As Tsunayoshi sat drinking tea and smiling with the King and Queen, Rokudo Mukuro almost pitied the royal couple. Were he a different person, with different life experiences (most notably not being experimented on by the Estraneo and not spending six years in Vendicare before being freed by Tsunayoshi), he would have.

They stood no chance against Tsunayoshi's charms.

The Vongola hadn't even said what he was proposing, but both monarchs were already nodding vigorously, eating out of the palm of his hand. They stared in wonder at the beautiful young man that politely sipped his tea with such refinement one might think he was royalty as well.

The Queen looked slightly drugged, flush on her cheeks and hazy look in her eyes. She still hadn't recovered from the blinding smile Tsunayoshi had flashed her eight minutes ago – poor woman, she hadn't built the necessary resistance. The only reason the guardians weren't left dazed every time was through sheer continued exposure, and even then they weren't completely unaffected– and was blushing lightly. Half in love with him already. This might have posed a problem, but one look at the King showed he wasn't far behind his wife.

Honestly, Tsunayoshi had no idea of the effect he had on people.

Mukuro chuckled where he was standing at the door, serving as bodyguard to the Vongola.

Chrome sensed her fellow mist guardian's amusement through their connection. She was working undercover as a maid at the palace, gathering as much intel as possible while 'convincing' a few other servants to report interesting tidbits to her. Initially, such a job had her hesitating. Noticing this, as he noticed almost everything, Boss had told her that she didn't have to do anything she didn't feel comfortable with. Ironically, it was these words that convinced her to do it, reminding her why she followed this wonderful man and giving her renewed confidence. She now enjoyed such infiltration missions, as she knew that she was somehow helping her Sky.

'What has you laughing so, Mukuro-sama?'

'Ah, my dear Chrome. It is laughter for joy. I am so glad that I did not take over young Tsunayoshi's body. Had I done so, I wouldn't have been able to see all these amusing things'.

That they could not imagine a world where Tsunayoshi's soul was no longer there went unsaid, but no unheard.

Back in the tea room, the royal couple had just agreed to open trade relations with Vongola and send all drafts of pertinent laws to the Decimo so that he could overlook them before they passed. His opinion was very valuable, after all. They had also assured him that none of his people would be harmed in Hungary, and would be afforded all the privileges of foreign diplomats, including diplomatic immunity. They had even thrown in an offer of marriage to their oldest daughter, a Hungarian princess of 19 years of age, which was respectfully refused.

With a last smile, Tsunayoshi excused himself. When the couple insisted he stay the night, he politely declined, citing a dinner he had to get to with the American President.

People wouldn't believe Mukuro when he said that Hungary was conquered in an hour over tea.

The civilian world was almost effortless to conquer; Tsunayoshi's gentle manners and sincerity were appreciated by the normal citizens, and his polite slyness and cunning ensured it stayed that way.

It was not the civilian world that preoccupied Basil, but the Mafia world.

He worried that Tsunayoshi's kindness would be used against him. That he would not be respected. He worried that Tsuna would offend many with his wish to disband the mafia. Basil expected trouble, especially from the more traditional mafia dons.

Basil should have known not to doubt Tsuna.

The Vongola Decimo utterly dominated the cruel mafia world.

Yamamoto couldn't help thinking it was good to be on Tsuna's team. They always won.

Not that he'd change teams even if they always lost. He couldn't imagine following anyone other than Tsuna.

But moments like these made it especially worth it.

Tsuna had just cowed an entire room of Mafiosi into silence.

Throughout the night, Tsuna had been presenting his charming and compassionate side, making allies and subordinates and life-long obsessive followers through pleasantries and kind smiles. As well through a tad of Vongola seduction. He seemed to be the center of attention at the annual Vongola ball. No one could take their eyes off of him.

Many of the older Mafiosi were not at all impressed by his behavior, however. They had heard of Tsuna's mercy, of his reluctance to use violence, and thought it was a sign of weakness.

This show of charm only consolidated that opinion. Every genuine offer of help, every selfless move, every kind smile was considered a weakness. They thought it meant that Tsuna could be easily controlled. That he'd gotten to become the leader of the greatest Mafia syndicate in the world through sheer luck and circumstance. That the rumours about his power were exaggerated, if not completely invented.

How foolish.

Even Takeshi, with his poor grades and dense nature, knew better.

Then again, that wasn't fair. He was one of the few who had the honor of truly knowing Tsuna and seeing what an amazing person the brown-haired man was.

Takeshi had to control a savage grin of satisfaction that threatened to appear at the thought. All the guardians were very lucky. Very lucky indeed to have Tsuna in their lives.

Several of the foolish Mafiosi that mistook Tsuna's kindness as weakness had concocted a plan to kidnap the youngest of the Decimo's guardians and use him to demand things of Tsuna.

Takeshi thought them even more foolish than before. They really shouldn't have chosen Lambo. He was the one Tsuna was most protective of.

When the six would-be kidnappers were caught – and of course they were caught. How they expected to succeed was beyond Takeshi. Everyone knew Hibari oversaw these parties and wouldn't allow anything he didn't approve of to occur – they had seemed entirely unconcerned.

When Tsuna had asked for an explanation from the criminals in front of all the guests, the leader of the group, a Benito Porello, mafia don of the American Porello Famiglia, stepped forward.

Benito smirked, confident that he'd be able to get out of this situation. The Vongola Decimo was a wimp, after all.

"Please forgive us, Vongola Decimo. We were just having a bit of fun".

"Oh? Fun?"

Tsuna's expression was so kind and understanding, one would think he truly sympathized with the kidnappers. Before Benito could say anything, Tsuna stated,

"Well, I can't fault anyone for wanting to have a bit of fun".

If possible, the leader's smirk grew more pronounced.

"After all, I also like to have fun. We here at Vongola love having fun." The sentence started to sound distinctly ominous, and some of the members of the group started to get a little worried. "Xanxus?"

The Varia leader seemed to suddenly materialize before Tsuna, a rare grin on his face.

"Yeah?"

"The Varia have had a week long break since your last mission, isn't that right?"

Tsunayoshi didn't wait for an answer. He already knew it.

"Well, I wouldn't want you to get bored. I can't go hog all the fun, can I?"

Xanxus's grin seemed to grow wider, stretching the scars on his face.

"Then here is your next mission: The destruction of the Porello Famiglia, as well as…" He looked over at the five men hiding behind Benitto. Ah, he knew them. Reborn wouldn't allow him to not know any mafia don by face. "The Marcello, Lanza, Cerrito, Dragna, and Smaldone famiglias. Be sure to enjoy yourselves and get rid of all your destructive tendencies while you're at it. Perhaps then I won't have to spend so much money repairing the Vongola mansion".

"Heh. You wish, brat". Was that a fond tone Xanxus was using? Surely they were hearing things.

Immediately after, Xanxus ran off, gathering the Varia members present at the ball and promptly disappearing with them. Tsunayoshi didn't have to say anything else. The Varia knew the rules. Announce the reason they were present, make sure their victims knew why they were doing what they were doing, then cheerfully annihilate them. Take away all their assets, destroy their bases, kill those that tried to attack them but leave those that didn't unharmed. Not everyone should pay for their boss's foolishness, after all.

In front of Tsuna, the members of the opposition were sweating profusely. They quickly went down to one knee before the young Decimo they had previously mocked, bowing their heads in submission.

"P-Please don't!"

"Have mercy, Vongola Decimo"

"Where is your legendary kindness, Vongola?"

Tsuna laughed at their pleas.

"Oh my, did you think I was done?"

The members of the group took a collective step back. They were suddenly overcome with the need to escape. They looked for the numerous exits in the ballroom, only to find that each one was being guarded by the rest of the Vongola Guardians and the Arcobaleno (who had been returned to their adult form through Tsuna's efforts, and loved the young Decimo as family).

"This isn't nearly enough for trying to kidnap Lambo!" Tsuna snarled.

The Mafiosi had never been so terrified in their lives. The man they had thought to be weak-willed and easily manipulated had morphed into a fearsome being with fire in his eyes and venom on his tongue. The Decimo had suddenly turned into this immensely powerful and intimidating being they could do nothing but bow to. But no, there was no transformation. Too late, the Mafiosi realized that Tsunayoshi had always been powerful. He was kind for the sake of kindness (a strength in and of itself), and not because he was too afraid to get his hands dirty. They had just been too blind to see it.

"I don't usually do this, you see, but these are unusual circumstances. You tried to take away my guardian from me. You tried to take away my family. You tried to take away a part of me".

Takeshi wondered if it was strange that this statement made him flush proudly, overwhelming him once more with the love he felt for his leader. He decided that the answer didn't truly matter. Tsuna accepted him as he was, with or without the strangeness.

"So let me take away a part of you… Should it be a finger? A hand? An eye?"

At the renewed cries for mercy from the Mafiosi on the floor, Tsuna shouted,

"SILENCE!"

The room went quiet. All eyes were on Tsuna.

"Did you think my mercy would save you now? Did you think my compassion would somehow allow you to escape unharmed after HURTING ONE OF MINE?"

Tsuna gave a short laugh that sent chills down their spines.

"No, I believe you must be punished. Let it serve as a lesson".

He paused, looking towards Takeshi.

"Takeshi, I think we should show these gentlemen some old-fashioned Vongola hospitality".

With a smile that suddenly seemed almost maniacal in nature, Yamamoto caressed his sword.

No Mafioso ever thought the Vongola Decimo was weak again.

That day remained with all the guests present, and the Vongola Decimo quickly gained control of the Mafia World.

But Tsunayoshi's power didn't end there.

Not only did Tsunayoshi have power over the earthly realm, he also had an influence over the supernatural.

Basil was half convinced Tsuna was some sort of fallen angel or god. A being both pure at heart yet immensely powerful, capable of moving thousands to his will.

Although it couldn't be proven for sure, Basil was positive that Tsunayoshi had some form of power over death. The laws of nature didn't apply to him, and even death retreated in the face of an irate Vongola Decimo.

Basil stood speechless as he watched Gokudera Hayato's body fall to the ground.

The world seemed to slow down. Basil could see the bullet pierce Gokudera's back – and it had to have hit a lung, grazed the heart. A mortal wound that could mean instant death – as the Vongola Decimo's right hand man jumped in front of his boss, serving as a human shield.

The thud of his body hitting the pristine marble floor, now morbidly beautiful decorated in blood-red, was loud.

The world stopped for a second. No one could believe what had happened.

And suddenly, a voice commanded their attention.

"Ryohei. Kyouya."

The two guardians immediately acted.

Hibari quickly dispatched the twenty enemies surrounding him and ran towards the source of the gunfire. The bastard that had tried to shoot their sky, and succeeded in shooting their storm, was going to die painfully.

Sasagawa attacked six of the enemy Mafiosi with renewed vengeance. But it would take him precious moments to beat them and rush towards Gokudera to heal him, moments that the silver-haired man didn't have.

Tsuna turned to face Gokudera, calmness in his outer demeanor that belied the fierce tempest raging within.

"Hayato, look at me".

Gasping, dying, Gokudera manage to look up at his boss.

"Ryohei is coming. You just have to hang on until then. He'll heal you, and then you'll be going back home with me. And then we'll go back to training you on how to avoid getting shot".

His tone was calm and his face was devoid of emotion, but there was desperation in his orange gaze that only his guardians could detect, a skill born out of years of looking at and studying Tsuna.

Seeing Gokudera like that was breaking him. He could see Death trying to lay claim to his storm, trying to take him away from him.

And that was unacceptable.

With command in his tone that left no doubt that this was an order, Tsuna barked,

"I forbid you to die. You are to live! This is an order, Hayato, DO YOU HEAR ME?!"

And Hayato had never disobeyed an order from Jyuudaime in his life.

This was no exception.

Basil had seen Tsunayoshi conquer the civilian world, dominate the mafia world, and cow Death into obedience.

But none of the above truly compared to the miracle that was the Vongola Decimo's greatest accomplishment – something Tsunayoshi himself did not fully understand he had accomplished.

The undying devotion Tsunayoshi inspired in each of his guardians.

The Vongola Decimo didn't realize the power he held over these amazing people, the loyalty he commanded.

It was present in the little things.

The way Chrome always prepared his morning coffee.

The way Takeshi was never more than a few steps away from him unless on a mission.

The way Lambo referred to him as brother.

The way Mukuro's usually cruel eyes would always soften whenever he was within sight.

The way Hibari always kept coming back to him.

The obvious way Gokudera worshipped the ground he walked on.

The deference with which they all treated him.

And it was present in the big things as well.

The very big things.

The kind of things no one in the mafia would ever forget.

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

There was a general agreement among the Vongola workers that they had the best job in the world.

Many would be (and have been) shocked to hear them say this.

“Are you out of your mind?! What about having to deal with Xanxus? He could kill you with a flick of a finger! And he’d do it, too!”

Well, yeah, Xanxus-sama was terrifying, but he was loyal to Tsunayoshi-sama just like them. He knew hurting the servants without good cause would disappoint Tsunayoshi-sama, and no one wanted to disappoint Tsunayoshi-sama, so he wouldn’t do anything. Xanxus-sama hadn’t hurt a Vongola worker in years!

“What about the constant explosions?! Those are seriously life-threatening! And take forever to clean up!”

Which really wasn’t true anymore. The Vongola workers were so experienced at cleaning up after explosions and rebuilding the mansion that it barely took 20 minutes on a slow day – not that there were slow days at Vongola. And though the explosions could occasionally maim, the explosion-causers always made sure they wouldn’t overly hurt a worker – certainly not kill.

“What about having to deal with all those super intimidating people?! The Arcobaleno appear there at least once a week! You’re dealing with the strongest people in the world there!”

Now that was just silly. They dealt daily with Tsunayoshi-sama, the most powerful man in the world. Why would they be overly intimidated by the other strongest? And anyways, weren’t they listening? Hurting the Vongola workers would disappoint Tsunayoshi-sama, and no one wanted to disappoint Tsunayoshi-sama. Especially not the Arcobaleno. Even though many of the ex-toddlers tried to hide it, it was clear as day that the strongest seven adored Tsunayoshi-sama.

Then again, who didn’t?

Which brought them to the real reason they still worked for Vongola despite all of its undeniably numerous stressful situations.

And it wasn’t the pay, although that was pretty good too.

It was, of course, the wonderful, the magnificent, the glorious Tsunayoshi-sama himself.

Honestly, they shouldn’t look that surprised.

It was quite obvious.

Everyone acknowledged Tsunayoshi-sama was wonderful.

Admittedly, rather shamefully, the Vongola workers had first been a bit skeptical of the new civilian boss they had never heard of, who appeared to be all things fluffy and cute. Weak, was the first thing that flew through their minds. Followed closely by worry for the future of Vongola.

They remembered the day they had all first seen him.

Earlier that week, the Vongola workers had been told the new boss was arriving. Amidst the flurry of preparing for his grand welcoming (Of course it would be grand, this was Vongola), they had spent all week worrying about what the mysterious Sawada Tsunayoshi would be like.

They wondered if he’d be constantly angry and violent like young master Xanxus, whom they were all terrified of. But then again, they had also heard the new boss had been personally trained by Reborn, and they got goosebumps as they thought of someone as chaos-loving and trigger-happy as Reborn as their boss. They’d probably get heart attacks by the end of the day! No, they would be content with normal, predictable, standard bosses like Nono’s three sons. Enrico, Massimo, and Federico had not been exceptional bosses – for the very brief time that they were heirs – and were not particularly well liked, but they had not been horrible, either. They had just been… standard, they supposed. Quite forgettable, to be honest. But the Vongola workers would welcome standard if that kept off Xanxus or Reborn wannabes.

But their boss was anything but standard.

Oh, he wasn’t a Xanxus or Reborn clone, but he definitely wasn’t standard.

When the day of the new boss’s arrival finally came, there was an excited bordering on anxious feeling to the Vongola mansion. The person they had been speculating about for the past week would finally arrive. When time came to welcome him, 100 Vongola workers (only a fraction of the entire workforce) lined up in two files in the grand entrance, decked in their most pristine maid and butler uniforms. Not a hair out of place, or a cloth wrinkle in sight. They were Vongola – they were perfect.

The grand double doors opened, and without even looking, they all bowed routinely,

“WELCOME HOME, YOUNG MASTER!”

The echo of their greeting could probably be heard on the opposite side of the city, such was its volume.

After a few moments, a sweet and melodic voice addressed them.

“Please, please. Stand back up.”

How odd, they thought. A mafia don who says ‘please’ to his servants?

As they looked up (all in perfect synchrony, of course), they were greeted with a very much non-standard sight. This was no Enrico, Massimo, or Federico. Of course, as Vongola, they were used to non-standard. But this was non-standard even for them!

A Xanxus or Reborn-like boss would have been more normal than this!

Sawada Tsunayoshi stood near the grand entrance, his seven guardians behind him.

Tsunayoshi had the fluffiest brown hair they had ever seen. His wide caramel eyes absorbed the opulence around him with a sort of flustered wonder. He was dressed impeccably in a black suit with matching black shoes.

Our new boss looks like a civilian.

He did not have the large and muscular frame of a typical mafia don. Instead, he was thin and lithe, like a professional runner or swimmer.

He did not have the I-will-eat-you-whole-if-you-dare-disobey-me aura that many of them carried like a second skin, instead smiling modestly at the workers.

He did not have the hardened face of a warrior, of someone who knew the darker side of the world and was adept at dealing with it.

He looked like he belonged teaching a class of kindergarteners. Or on the arm of some rich old lady that would provide for him in exchange for his company. Or perhaps even as some idealist dreaming of a better world.

(They were not entirely wrong. Tsunayoshi-sama is good with children, capable of seducing rich old ladies as well as practically anyone else, and is always true to his beliefs and ideals. They simply did not understand that all these things were some of what made him more than perfect for the job of mafia boss.)

What would the great Vongola become with him at its head? They worried.

Barely a moment passed in silent contemplation of their new boss before they heard the customary yelling that accompanied their young master Xanxus’s arrival.

In his usual fiery and violent splendor, Xanxus descended the grand staircase with loud and ominous steps before arriving at the Grand Hall. The large scarred red-eyed man had one hand in his coat pocket, presumably near his weapon, the other occupied with holding a bottle of wine. He was angry, as usual, and growling at his second-in-command, Squalo, while coming down the steps.

“VOOOOOIIII! Shitty boss, you can’t just-“

“Shut up, trash! I can do whatever the fuck-“

Xanxus stopped.

The room tensed as they felt the instant that Xanxus’s eyes landed on Tsunayoshi. His expression darkened, and a look of terrifying glee crossed his face, making many of the workers tremble in dread.

Collectively, the Vongola workers feared for their cute and innocent new boss. He’s going to be eaten alive!

Xanxus stalked towards Tsunayoshi.

“So you finally showed up, eh, brat?”

A few of the weaker Vongola workers closed their eyes in order to shut out the carnage that would undoubtedly occur. They expected to hear a high-pitched whimper, or perhaps the sound of someone fainting, but opened their eyes when they realized nothing of the sort could be heard.

“I suppose it had to happen eventually”, came the calm and surprisingly collected response from their new boss. The Vongola workers had expected him to cower in fright by then. Tsunayoshi then turned his attention to Xanxus’s right hand man. “And how have you been, Squalo-san?”

The silverette smiled, much to the Vongola Worker’s shock (And it was a real smile, not just a bloodthirsty grin!). “Had to keep dealing with this shitty boss, but apart from that, it’s been good. Pretty funny to see all the workers try to guess what you’re like.”

Tsunayoshi chuckled. “You’ll have to tell me more about that later.”

Squalo was about to reply when he was rudely cut off by his red-eyed boss, who was glaring at the fluffy-haired Vongola Decimo.

“Oi, brat, aren’t you going to ask me how I am?!”

If the Vongola workers hadn’t known better, they’d have said Xanxus was jealous of the attention Tsunayoshi was giving Squalo.

“I can tell you’re in good health just by looking at you, Xanxus-san.”

Xanxus’s grin seemed to get more feral, and for a dangerous second it seemed like he was about to partake in happy laughter (much to the Vongola workers’ horror), before Squalo, annoyed at Xanxus’s interruption, made himself heard.

“VOOOOOIII! Don’t you know it’s rude to interrupt people’s conversations, shitty-boss!”

“Shut up, trash! I’ll interrupt you when I want to!”

Xanxus took a final swig of his wine before seemingly finishing it and yelling for another bottle.

A young maid immediately appeared, carrying a silver platter with a fine Bordeaux wine bottle. This would have been as custom, but there was one problem: all the more high up Vongola workers were busy being aligned in perfect rows and welcoming the new boss in the Grand Hall, and that included the maids officially in charge of bringing Xanxus his wine. This meant that the maid on duty to bring Xanxus his wine that day was inexperienced in the endeavor, and did not have the same exposure to Xanxus as others.

This would not have been an issue had it been anyone not completely petrifying, but this was Xanxus.

The problem made itself more apparent as she approached Xanxus. The young maid was visibly terrified of the Varia leader. With every step she took towards Xanxus and Tsunayoshi-sama, her nervousness only increased.

It was, perhaps, no surprise then that she accidentally tripped, landing on all fours on the polished marble floor and spilling the red wine all over herself… and Xanxus’s shirt.

“TRASH! THE FUCK DID YOU DO?!”

“VOOOOIIII!”

The young maid was so horrified she could barely get a word out. She had heard of Xanxus’s disregard for others’ lives, even those of his allies, and dreaded what he would do to her.

“I-I’m s-s-so s-sorry, y-young mas-“

“I DON’T WANT YOUR FUCKING APOLOGIES, TRASH!”

Xanxus’s face twisted in an instinctive snarl, red eyes shining brightly with anger. He was about to throw the empty wine bottle at her, as he did so many others when they displeased him, when a serene yet powerful voice reverberated around the hall.

It was not particularly loud, yet there was some unknown quality to it that somehow commanded the full attention of all those in the room.

“Now, Xanxus, surely that isn’t necessary.”

Immediately, Xanxus froze in his actions, turning his glare onto the speaker.

Instead of cowering, as many hardened criminals had when faced with Xanxus’s deadly glare in the past, Tsunayoshi looked Xanxus in the eye and placed a gentle hand on his arm, slowly lowering it until the hand with the bottle was safely at his side.

“Tsc. Wasn’t going to do anything anyway, brat.”

The Vongola workers were paralyzed. Had they just heard what they thought they heard? Had they just seen what they thought they had seen? Because they thought they had just heard and seen Xanxus back the fuck off. Back the fuck off because their new boss who looked way too much like a civilian just said a few words?

Just who was this person? How had he managed to stop Xanxus, an experienced Mafiosi and killer that gave other experienced Mafiosi and killers nightmares?!

At that moment, the Vongola workers realized something. He’s dangerous, they realized. Our new boss is even more frightening than Xanxus! He deceives everyone with his innocent looks but he’s actually super, super dangerous!

Tsunayoshi smiled at Xanxus’s statement before turning to the maid who was still sprawled on the floor.

The poor thing was nearly in tears.

“Now, now. Xanxus won’t hurt you. He’s actually a very kind person.”

Xanxus snorted.

The Vongola workers couldn’t help but wonder if their new boss was delusional. Xanxus most certainly wasn’t kind, and he definitely would have hurt that maid had the new boss not done anything.

Tsunayoshi extended a hand to the maid. She made not move to take it, opting instead to look at through blurry eyes in wonder.

Seeing as she wasn’t moving, Tsunayoshi smiled at her and continued, “Here, let me help you.”

The poor maid, not being emotionally prepared for the power of Tsunayoshi’s smile, nodded dazedly. The brilliance of it could be seen even through the wet film in her eyes. Her cheeks flushed and her eyes glazed over. As though in a dream, she put her hand in her new boss’s, and he lifted her up to her feet.

“Now, why don’t you go clean up? These wet clothes can’t be comfortable.”

Still in a daze, the young maid nodded again before floating away from the hall to do her new boss’s bidding.

The young maid later became one of Tsunayoshi-sama’s most devoted admirers.

Still in shock at the scene, the Vongola workers could do nothing but stare slack-jawed, in a most un-Vongolaish manner, at the person who had just reigned Xanxus in while still looking as fluffy as a bunny.

Frightening. Very, very frightening.

The workers tensed up as Tsunayoshi turned towards them.

With a cute tilt of his head (and were those sparkles in the background?!), he addressed them.

“Could we have another bottle of wine brought up? As well as a change of clothes for Xanxus.”

And that, ladies and gentlemen, was when the workers were directly exposed to Sawada Tsunayoshi’s smile.

The grand hall descended into silence.

Some of the young Vongola’s guardians (practically forgotten in all the commotion) sighed, as though already knowing what would happen next.

After a few moments, the sound of a hundred Vongola workers collectively swooning could be heard.

An angel! That is what the new master is!

No matter how potentially powerful and frightening and able-to-stop-Xanxus their new boss was, he was definitely an angel sent from Heaven to shine his light on them.

As fast as lightening, the one hundred maids and butlers in the grand hall ran to fulfill his orders. Each wanted to be the one to bring their new boss the bottle of wine and the change of clothes, and be the recipient of that smile once more.

Comically, Tsunayoshi ended up with 100 bottles of wine and 100 of Xanxus’s white shirts.

Bemused, and wondering if this sort of excessive behavior was normal in the Vongola Workers, Tsunayoshi laughed.

When Tsunayoshi-sama emitted that beautiful sound of joy they felt their hearts melt.

“I do not think we needed quite so many,” Their new boss started, staring a little incredulously at the piles of bottles and clothes before looking at the eagerly awaiting crowd of Vongola workers again, “but thank you.”

And he smiled.

The sound of hundreds of Vongola hearts being pierced by arrows was heard across Italy.

Indeed, the time the Vongola workers had thought of Tsunayoshi-sama as weak and unsuitable had been very brief and very long ago.

Now, they were fully devoted (some might say excessively devoted, but that was just because they didn’t know Tsunayoshi-sama like they did) and wouldn’t leave the job for the world.

There were quarters in the Vongola mansion that doubled as a place of worship. For Tsunayoshi-sama.

They weren’t a cult, thank you very much. They were a full-fledged religion, acknowledged by the Italian government and part of the World Bank’s statistics (7% of the Italian population were followers Tsunaism, and they were an ever-growing religion!). Tsunayoshi-sama was clearly a god of some sort, a divine being sent to Earth to guide others into the light and bring salvation to humanity. It was obvious. No mere mortal could be so perfect.

And so, when Verde of the Arcobaleno and Poison Scorpion Bianchi, both intimates to Tsunayoshi-sama, asked the Vongola workers whether anyone would be willing to experiment certain potentially lethal drugs in order to help their boss, not even a second of hesitation was seen.

“Sawada Tsunayoshi is ill, and requires an antidote. With the aid of Bianchi, I have been creating several samples to try and cure him. To ensure that the sample does not have any adverse effects, we require volunteers to test out the drug beforehand.”

There was an underlying note of urgency in the scientist’s tone that some of the more perceptive workers noticed, and worried about. What had happened to their beloved boss? When they noticed the tension in the normally aloof green-haired Arcobaleno, they were consumed with dread. What could have happened that made the imperturbable Verde worry so?

Some workers had already made movements towards the poisonous duo when Verde raised his hand in a motion to stop them.

“I shall warn you now. There is a risk of extreme pain… and even of death.”

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Verde watched in slight astonishment as every worker that heard the announcement scrambled – although scrambling wasn’t fair. No Vongola worker ever scrambled, they were much more graceful than that (they had to uphold Tsunayoshi-sama’s reputation), but there was still a measure of urgency in their movements rarely seen before – and got in an orderly line in front of the frightening scientist and terrifying assassin.

Had they not been Vongola, they might have shoved each other away in order to move up the line.

That the risks of partaking in the experiment were so severe made them more eager to volunteer, not less. It convinced them that something was very wrong with their beloved boss. And they would do anything to help, no matter the costs.

They were never told the specifics.

They didn’t need to be.

Tsunayoshi-sama needed them – that was all they needed to know.

Verde and Bianchi looked slightly stunned at the speed with which every Vongola worker lined up to participate in the potentially fatal experiment. Not one worker had decided to step out.

The Vongola workers were slightly puzzled at their surprise.

Honestly, did they think that the very same workers who fought over who would get to bring Tsunayoshi-sama his coffee in the afternoon (the coveted spot of coffee-bringer in the morning was already taken by the mist guardian Dokuro Chrome, much to their disappointment) would hesitate to somehow be of use to Tsunayoshi-sama? To bring him back to health?

No, rather, it was all they could to do patiently wait in line for their turn to receive the injection.

And even should they die, they would die happy. There could be no greater death than death for the sake of Tsunayoshi-sama. There was actually a belief that by dying for Tsunayoshi-sama, a divine being, they would ascend straight to Heaven where there were many Tsunayoshi-sama clones that would smile benevolently at them and that they could serve for eternity.

Chapter Text

Paoul Mirzoyan couldn't help thinking that life was very good at the moment.

He was seated at his opulent dining hall, eating his favorite meal – boudin blanc au Calvados, while music played in the background. A glass of fine Tuscan wine was in front of him, and he swirled it in his hand as he contemplated his last dealing.

Mirzoyan thought himself a very cunning man.

His informant had contacted him a while earlier saying that the target had been reached and the drug was working masterfully.

Mirzoyan grinned sadistically as he imagined the great Vongola Decimo reduced to spasming pathetically in pain, his body contorting in suffering, his nerves more wasted with every second. His insides would be eating at him. There would be fire in his blood, blood in his lungs, and slowly disintegrating internal organs. The torture would never abate, yet the victim would sometimes think it was lessening, that it might finally stop, only for it to renew its efforts in bringing the victim to wish for death. Mirzoyan smiled, aroused. The image gave him a hard on.

If only there was some way to watch it…

Mirzoyan chuckled into his glass.

That weak civilian who was ruining his human trafficking business was finally paying… And then he'd die and Mirzoyan would become the boss of the strongest Mafia famiglia.

There was no way his plan would fail.

He had planned for everything.

The shooter he used was one he hired anonymously, and who was very good at what he did. The torture drug had been delivered anonymously as well, left inside the agreed upon location for the shooter to later come find. The scientists involved in the making of the drug were all carefully monitored. The note he sent Vongola was typed and had no sending address. There was nothing that could be traced back to him.

All they knew about the culprit was that he was called "The Pharmacist".

Mirzoyan cackled as he thought of his chosen codename. He was sure the idiots back at Vongola were running around uselessly in a flurry, cursing out their inability to find who "The Pharmacist" was.

Mirzoyan had planned alternatives.

Had the drug missed its intended target and hit the Russian mafia don, then the strongest mafia syndicate in Russia would go to war with Vongola, weakening both of the great powers and making it easier for Mirzoyan to annihilate both of them afterwards.

And if the drug struck its true target, as it had, then not only would the Decimo suffer immensely, but Mirzoyan could threaten Vongola into disbanding. The Decimo's life in exchange for the death of the strongest mafia organization.

Ordinarily, this sort of tactic would not work. The mafia was not the type of place that would change so drastically to protect only one man. That was too innocent. No mafia famiglia would disband just to protect their boss. They'd probably kill him to stop his suffering and appoint the next heir as the boss.

No mafia famiglia except the Vongola, that is.

It was no secret how close the Vongola people were. While other mafia syndicates used the word "famiglia" loosely, the Vongola took it to an entire new level. The Decimo, his guardians, the Arcobaleno, and even the Vongola workers would all indubitably risk their lives for one another. They cared for each other in a way that made implanting people to spy on the Decimo result in either the spy vanishing mysteriously, or converting to Tsunaism.

Most people saw this closeness as a strength, but Mirzoyan knew better.

It would be Vongola's downfall.

They cared too much.

That was their weakness.

And Mirzoyan felt no shame in exploiting it.

Initially, he had thought about poisoning the Vongola Decimo Guardians. First, it would have been easier for the Vongola Decimo himself to disband all of Vongola than his guardians. Second, the guardians were much less protected than the Decimo, and there were more opportunities for attack. Third, he had not been sure if his plan to target the Decimo would work, as there had been an ever-growing myth amongst the mafia that it was impossible to do anything other than exactly what the Vongola Decimo wanted you to do. And if you attempted to shoot him when the Vongola Decimo did not want to be shot, then the bullet would not even graze him.

But he did not even contemplate targeting the Guardians for all of five seconds.

The world knew better than to target the Vongola Decimo's guardians.

Mirzoyan took a moment to remember the idiots who had attempted to kidnap the Vongola's youngest guardian in the middle of a ball. He shuddered, remembering what had happened to them.

The Vongola Decimo was vicious to those who hurt his beloved guardians.

No, targeting the guardians was not an option.

The Russian mafia don took another sip of his wine, looking into the liquid and finding his reflection looking back at him.

The Decimo on the other hand… Mirzoyan imagined him again, twisting and turning, his body on fire as he tried and failed to rip his own skin off. He might even gouge out his own eyes out of pain, it had happened to a few of the others he had tested the drug on. All the while the pathetic Vongola desperately worked for a cure.

Not that a cure did exist. Mirzoyan snorted. He had ordered his scientist to invent the torture drug to make it impossible to create a cure.

The Vongola Decimo needed to die. He was one of those people that, even stripped of all of his titles and powers and belongings, was still someone immensely influential that would somehow manage to rise back up again despite it all. Doubtlessly, should Mirzoyan allow the young Vongola to live, he would somehow come back into power and kill the Russian mafia don.

That just wouldn't do.

So Mirzoyan hadn't made a cure. But he did have a good pretend cure that would make the suffering abate for three days, before the accumulated power of the drug suddenly came back with renewed vengeance. The sudden onslaught of pain was fatal, as the body was physically incapable of handling that much pain at once, and the subject would immediately die.

It had happened to every subordinate he tried it on (An unfortunate waste of his resources, but necessary).

So caught up in his ruminating, Mirzoyan almost didn't notice the deadly silence in the room.

His music had stopped. He couldn't hear the sound of the servants' footsteps outside. He could not even hear the rustle of the drapes against the window, or the hum of the heater running, or even the everyday noises that came with life.

It was as if all the sound had been sucked out of the room.

As he sat looking at his reflection in the wine glass, Mirzoyan felt a heavy pressure invade his senses.

Almost hesitantly, as though afraid of what he might find, Mirzoyan looked up from his wine glass.

And there, standing before him, were the Vongola Decimo Guardians.

For a second, Mirzoyan panicked.

What were they doing here? How did they know it was him? He had made sure to leave absolutely no traces! There was no way this incident could be traced back to him!

Damn, he should have considered that Vongola would have alternate, more effective methods. But there was no way they'd have definite proof.

And Vongola was famous for its mercy. If they weren't certain that he was the culprit, then they wouldn't kill him. Mirzoyan was sure of it.

"Vongola guardians! Welcome, welcome to my humble abode! What a pleasant surprise to see you here!"

He received no response, only silence.

All six guardians just stared at him, expressionless. Their eyes were dead, as though they had suffered through some great ordeal and everything else was beneath that.

That was strange. He had not interacted with Vongola much, but even he had heard that the Vongola were notoriously incapable of being quiet. They were constantly shouting, laughing, arguing, causing explosions and whatnot.

If he were being completely honest, the absolute silence was unnerving.

Mirzoyan started to get a little anxious. The chilling gazes he was receiving indicated that they were certain that he was the culprit, despite all of the careful measures he took to remain hidden. He only did himself a disservice by pretending otherwise.

Well, it didn't matter.

He had the ultimate advantage.

They thought he had the cure.

Abandoning all pretenses, Mirzoyan struck a confident pose, cocky smirk on his face.

"I suppose you came to try to get the antidote from me. I'm surprised you could be so foolish."

The guardians completely ignored his commentary. Instead, they slowly approached him in disturbing synchrony, and Mirzoyan resisted the urge to take a step back. He felt oddly like prey being hunted by six much bigger predators.

He would not let these children intimidate him. He was the one in control of the situation, not them.

"All I can say is – I promise you now, if you lay one finger on me, you'll never have the cure."

Still, the guardians remained silent, continuing to advance towards the Russian.

Mirzoyan looked to the Vongola Decimo's stoic right-hand man. His eyes were hard and like two chips of ice. The rest of his body betrayed no emotion whatsoever, and he wasn't responding to any of what Mirzoyan was saying.

Isn't he supposed to be super hot-headed? Where did this personality shift come from?

Suddenly, a sword embedded itself in the wall near Mirzoyan's head.

Mirzoyan stared incomprehensively at it, as though he could not believe it was actually there.

"W- WHAT ARE YOU DOING? YOU NEARLY KILLED ME!"

At the continued lack of reactions exhibited by any of the guardians, Mirzoyan felt the need to clear some things up. The guardians obviously didn't know how to play this game.

"YOU NEED ME! IF YOU WANT TO MAKE THAT BOSS OF YOURS STOP SUFFERING THEN YOU CANNOT KILL ME!"

The female Mist guardian looked at him with pure revulsion in her visible eye. Calmly, she stated, "You will not die tonight." She almost seemed happy about this.

It was when he suddenly found himself strapped to his chair by the female guardian that he realized exactly what they would be doing. Next to him, the youngest of the guardians he recognized as the Lightning Guardian was setting up what looked to be a video-recorder.

"Wait! Wait! You are not even giving me time to talk!"

This was all going so fast- they weren't even trying to get the antidote out of him through negotiation! This was not what he had heard Vongola was like! They were supposed to always talk and negotiate first, and torture was simply not something they did!

"Talk?" The Rain guardian laughed. "What makes you think we want you to talk after all you've done?"

Mirzoyan was confused. Why were they all speaking in riddles? Of course they wanted him to talk, they wanted to know where the antidote was!

The Russian mafia don was livid. This was not how it was supposed to happen! He was supposed to always have the upper hand. They were not supposed to know he was the one that had ordered the Vongola Decimo's torture, not supposed to know where he lived, not supposed to know anything!

"If you continue like this that pathetic excuse you call a boss is going to die! I will never tell you about the cure!" Mirzoyan snarled. They needed to remember what position he held.

Suddenly, the atmosphere in the room became much more oppressive. Mirzoyan could feel the killing glares of every one of the Vongola guardians. Their rage at the mention of the Vongola Decimo's suffering, and potential death, was suffocating. It made him hesitate a bit, but with renewed confidence possessed only by someone who knows they have something the other desperately needs, he sneered at them.

Gokudera slowly turned his head towards the man strapped to the dining hall chair. "What did you say about Juudaime?"

Certain that they would not kill him as they needed him to cure their boss, Mirzoyan was not cowed by the intense atmosphere. He snarled. "Your boss is a pathetic, weak civilian who doesn't deserve to lead the strongest mafia famiglia! And if you don't unhand me now, he will never receive the cure!"

Had they not been so livid, they might have shot Mirzoyan pitying looks. "We don't want your cure, Mirzoyan. We are not here for that," Gokudera grinned at Mirzoyan's lost expression. Didn't want the cure? What did they mean by that? But then, what were they here for?

"No, we're going to make you scream just because we want to hear the sound."

Looking into the Vongola Decimo's right hand man's eyes, Mirzoyan felt true terror for the first time that night. Never had he seen such fury, such bloodthirstiness, such hatred in the eyes of another human being. This man loathed him with an indescribable passion for what Mirzoyan had done to the Vongola Decimo. This man- all he wanted was to make Mirzoyan suffer as much as possible.

"Why do you think it took us so long to come here for you?" The Vongola Storm guardian calmly questioned. "We received a call indicating where you were hours ago. We just had to wait for the antidote to be successfully administered before coming to get you."

"Boss has been cured and will be waking up soon. Scum like you could never keep him down." The female Mist guardian continued, an almost feverish look in her eyes from having to sit by her beloved sky as he suffered for hours on end.

"So we came here just for you. Don't you feel special, Mirzoyan?" This time it was the Rain guardian who spoke, expressionless face morphing into a violent smile that sent shivers down Mirzoyan's spine. As he spoke, he placed a large black case on the dining table in front of Mirzoyan. "You've done some pretty bad things, Mirzoyan. Unforgivable things." He opened released a clasp on the side of the case, opening it to reveal several syringes inside. The smile disappeared from his face as he abruptly turned to the tied Russian. His pupils were dilated and his gaze was on something far away, as though he was living a nightmare. "But your biggest mistake was hurting Tsuna."

In a moment, the Rain Guardian was back to the present, looking at Mirzoyan again. "And, you see, Tsuna's a popular guy. Luckily for him, he's close friends with some really intelligent people who are good with poisons. And once we told them we were coming here, they insisted on giving us this." The Rain Guardian held up a syringe full of deathly black substance, grinning maniacally all the while. "We've been veryexcited to test it out."

The Rain Guardian explained, "They say that it hurts ten times more than the other torture drug. It also stops your body from automatically killing you should the pain be too much. Wouldn't want you to be able to die too soon, you know?"

"But first," The male Mist Guardian started, his left eye shifting rapidly between various numbers, "before resorting to this new artificial stuff, we'd like to go at it the old-fashioned way. Makes it more personal, you know?" He gave what in any other situation would have been a charming grin, but in this one just inspired terror.

Mirzoyan trembled in his seat.

The Lightning Guardian clicked play on the recorder.

"What- What is the recorder for?"

Lambo looked at the disgusting man in front of him. Paoul Mirzoyan. The one responsible for making Tsuna-nii be tortured for hours on end.

Even having to talk with the man was repulsive. He knew Ryohei, contrary to his normally boisterous self, had decided not to say a thing to the man.

Lambo didn't blame him. He felt dirtier just looking at him. But, Lambo figured if the talk would make Mirzoyan more afraid, more pained, then it would be worth it. "So that all can see what happens to those who hurt Tsuna."

"You're making an example out of me?"

Lambo nodded curtly.

Behind him, he heard Mukuro speak, "Your mutilated corpse will be the guest of honor at our next ball."

Lambo knew that definitely wasn't true, if only because Kyoko and Hana would think it of supremely bad taste, but the idea was the same. All of their enemies would watch this and see what happened to those who hurt Tsuna. They would be sure not repeat Mirzoyan's mistake.

The guardians were doing them a favor, really.

Mirzoyan shifted his bindings so that he could reach the red button under his chair. Finally, with a last effort, he managed to press it.

There, reinforcements should be coming.

The Vongola guardians were strong, but they were only six. They would not be able to hold against hundreds of his men that were posted here.

The guardians were clearly still inexperienced at this. They should have kidnapped Mirzoyan and dealt with him somewhere in Vongola headquarters, or anywhere other than in Mirzoyan's dining hall, where he was surrounded by his men.

Even if they had successfully infiltrated the base, fighting off all of its men was an entirely different story.

"You seem to be waiting for something, Mirzoyan. I do not like this hopeful look." The male Mist Guardian stated. "But don't worry, in a few moments it will come right off!"

Mirzoyan smiled confidently. His men should be here in a few seconds.

"Once my men arrive, you will all die." He stated confidently. Then, he turned to the pretty female Mist guardian. "Except for you, girl. You will be used as their toy for days before being sold. I'm sure you'll fetch a pretty price at the market."

The Cloud guardian imbedded a steel tonfa into his gut with such force that Mirzoyan coughed out blood.

"You are making this even harder for yourself, Mirzoyan." The female Mist guardian in question told him. She seemed supremely unaffected by his threats, much to his ire.

"All of your men are dead. It only took 10 minutes to kill all the men posted here." The Mist Guardian said in pure delight. He gave a savage grin. "As we speak, Vongola is destroying all of your bases, even that rather well hidden one in Alaska."

Mirzoyan lost all color.

"That's right, Mirzoyan." The male Mist guardian whispered into his ear.

"No one can save you now."

Upon realizing that the Vongola guardians did not need the cure and that his men were not coming to rescue him, Mirzoyan despaired.

Looking at these guardians, he felt true fear. Their desire to harm him was palpable. He saw his own death in their eyes in a thousand different ways, and he was terrified.

Mirzoyan knew that they loved their boss. Everyone knew that the Vongola Decimo was adored. But surely having him suffer for a few hours was not enough to elicit such a response? The guardians seemed crazed!

Standing in front of him, leaning nonchalantly against the dining hall table, the Vongola Storm was smoking a cigarette. He breathed out a puff of smoke into Mirzoyan's face before speaking,

"Put one hand on the table."

The female Mist guardian loosened the bonds on his right hand, and he put the appendage on the table, too scared to do anything else. Soon, his hand was chained to the table at the risk, making it impossible to move.

"Now, say what you said before." The Storm ordered.

"W-What did I-I say?"

"I believe you had some strong opinions regarding Juudaime."

"N-No… I didn't mean-"

"SAY IT!" The Storm guardian snarled, and Mirzoyan tripped over himself to do as he commanded.

"T-The Vongola Decimo is a pathetic, weak civilian who doesn't deserve to lead."

"Was that so hard?" The Storm asked, almost gently, before looking over to the Rain.

The Rain guardian's reaction was immediate. Using his sword, he chopped off a thumb from Mirzoyan's right hand.

Mirzoyan yelled in pain, watching horrified as blood pour out of his wound. He tried to free his hand from the bonds chaining it to the table, but only rubbed his wrist raw.

"YOU FUCKER! I JUST DID WHAT YOU TOLD ME TO!"

"I know." Gokudera calmly replied, looking unimpressed at Mirzoyan's reaction. "Say it again."

"W-What?"

"Say it again."

Slowly, lazily, realization dawned on Mirzoyan.

He turned imploringly to Gokudera. "N-No. No, please!"

"This was not a request. It was an order."

Gokudera looked deeply into Mirzoyan's eyes, and the Russian was terrified by what he found there. There was anger, but most of all there was a deep-seated hatred for the man who had harmed his beloved boss. And he would do anything to punish him.

"Now," Gokudera continued. "Say it again."

Mirzoyan said it many more times that night.

Looking at the whimpering mess of a man before him, the Vongola guardians could not find it in themselves to pity him.

Mirzoyan was lying in a pool of his own blood, missing every single finger and toe. His right eye had exploded, as had his left ear, and several ribs had been cracked from either punches or tonfa blows. His whole body spasmed occasionally, an aftereffect of the electric shocks he had been subjected to.

The man's mind was currently reliving one of his worst nightmares, trapped inside one of Hell's layers.

It was a pathetic sight, and ordinarily one that would have revolted them, but that day they felt no sympathy.

He deserved it all.

How dare he torture Tsuna?

Their boss.

Their friend.

Their sky.

He deserved every bit of what they had thrown at him and more.

Still looking at what remained of Mirzoyan, Gokudera took a smoke from his cigarette. The itching need to have Mirzoyan suffer horribly and die had abated somewhat, but Mirzoyan wasn't even close to finished. As he looked around to his fellow guardians' faces, he knew they felt the same way.

You just don't mess with the Vongola's sky.

As he thought this, there was a knock on the door. With silent footsteps, Basil and another Vongola worker came in. If Basil was shocked at the sight, he didn't show it. Instead, there was an upward turn to his lips that indicated he was quite satisfied with Mirzoyan's sorry state.

Basil turned to the guardians, "You all need to go now. We'll take care of the rest."

"Yeah, we know." Gokudera took another deep breath of smoke before droppin the cigarette and putting it out. Gesturing to Mirzoyan, he said, "Bind him and gag him – don't want the bastard to bite his tongue off and die on us. It's the Varia's turn to have him next. Tell them to film what they do to him as well."

The Vongola worker immediately set to work, paying careful attention to the black case with more of the torture drug inside.

But the Vongola guardians didn't see. As soon as Gokudera had finished telling Basil what to do, they were out the door and heading back to Venice. Not a second was wasted.

Tsuna would wake up soon.