Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Skull could feel his lungs burn as he continued to run. Away from the Arcobaleno mansion, away from them. 

The curse was broken, they were free. He was supposed to be free. To be back to the life he had. Before the missions, before Checker Face ruined and cursed his life. 

Their harmony was a farce. Forced upon them and only kept together by the curse and system.

Skull promised himself to run as soon as he could. He had tried before, fresh from the curse, stuck in the infant form with small hands and body that felt so useless.

Skull never made it far before being dragged back and facing the vicious punishment from the others. He was chained to them. His very soul tightened forcibly in a complicated knot to them. They were the Arcobalenos. Something they hated yet obsessively never let go.

But Skull has never been part of them. He’d been the useless and cowardly civilian dragged because his flames just happen to be special. The only special thing about him. He was the weak link.

Useless, pathetic, cowardly, weak lackey. More like a punching bag and servant than anything. Never been able to fight back or do anything. Everything was decided by them. It was fucking suffocating. He was a cloud.

Skull always felt like an imposter masquerading with the strongest seven. A dull mistake placed only because of his flames. And the others made sure to always make him remember.

The abuse, belittlement, and pain. He took and swallowed it all without complaint. As long as he was still tied to them by the title Arcobaleno and the curse.

But he was free now. The curse was gone. So why can’t they let him go.

He could feel the pain in his throat as it started bruising to add to the numerous bruises that littered his body. With his cloud flames they will heal quickly enough anyway.

But it still doesn’t change that they existed. A mark of ownership as Collonelo and Lal decided to force him in a farce of a training.

Then to the large purple, black and yellow ring on his neck. A punishment. For fighting back the alpha of the pack. Reborn.

For trying for freedom.

It's just been simple words that left his mouth without consent as his temper was bristling, his body battered after another beating from both Colonello and Lal and Reborn opening his mouth to spark the fuel.

"When our growth is finally balanced and bond stable, Skull-sama will definitely go back to his life and will never meet any of you again."

Before it even registered to him that he had said that out loud, he was slammed to the ground by his throat with Reborn’s gun pressed against his head.

"Never say that again lackey. You are ours. We own you," Reborn hissed as menacing as the crack of his gun.

With obsidian eyes burned into a glowing gold Reborn wore a cruel smirk as his sun flames flickered hot and painful over his skin. 

Sun flames were supposed to be soothing, healing elements with a warm caress. 

This was anything but soothing. Reborn was the antithesis of what a sun was. With jagged flames never used to heal unless he himself caused the wounds for his own pleasure. A mocking repeat of pain and cruel healing.

Reborn with his cruelty, Verde with his apathy and disregard for Skull as he conducted experiments to tests Skull's 'immortality', Fon for how he watches the abuse happen never to lift a finger with an amused and calm smile, Viper for their coldness and indifference, Collonelo for his rough and uncaring treatment second only to Reborn, Lal following after with training and painful carelessness never acknowledging him.

Luce. He didn't want to think about the woman who dragged him into this. May she and Checker Face meet in hell.

After sadness was the burning anger. Just who were they to push Skull to this point!?

Skull entered with the naive thinking of harmony, of finally finding a home. A place where he belongs. 

But reality spat in his face because Skull De Mort wasn't allowed good things.

His flames roared and screeched from where he tightly tucked it in. Never letting it roam lest it hurt people around him. Potent cloud flames ready to cover the sky and swallow the earth.

He played his part, he did everything just to fit in. He loves them. Why couldn't they love him back!? Even a bit of affection was never shown. He did everything!

No longer. 

With a bloody mouth and the morbid taste of copper on his tongue. Skull De Mort says enough.

And he let loose his flames in what felt like eternity. Burning the empty patch of large grass and with him as well. 

Purple eyes opened with a ring of amber as the room exploded in cloud and sky flames. Skull De Mort awakens again. For what is the fate of the most hated by death.

Sweat clung to his clothes and body as he abruptly sat up from the nightmares that terrorized him again.

Visions of hands clawing and dragging him to the darkness and a gold gilded cage swam in his mind.

Never. Never again.

Skull tried to grab onto his phone by the counter but felt air instead.

Oh right, in the past. No phones.

The mobile phones he was used to weren't available in 1956. 

Yes, 51 years into the past. Even before the gathering of the I Prescelti Sette. Before even the curse.

Skull doesn't know what happened but he can only thank whoever pulled this miracle.

He can have a redo. A life without the curse or the arcobaleno.

It's been nearly a year since he woke up in one of his studios and nearly burned it down in an explosion of flames.

Since then, he'd been working hard to find a way to prevent the events from reoccurring.

He'd even been insane enough to run to the Vindice and let them in his head.

Although, it was more of a call than a run. Apparently, the Vindice took a page out of the Harry Potter book and placed a taboo in their name. So anybody who uttered their name with intent would alert them.

The smell of cold rotted corpses in the morgue and the eerie chill of broken flames filled with blood curdling vengeance, in the form of night flames licking near his form—as Bermuda held his head and peered into his mind.

He shivered as he remembered the event before shaking it out of his mind.

It was left to the Vindice to use the memories and knowledge he gave him to deal with the curse and Checker Face.

Now, Skull was free. 

Chapter Text

Skull tried to keep the scream that threatened to escape his throat when he saw the familiar disguise Checker Face uses appeared right after his show.

His heart beat loudly against his chest and his hands turned clammy and cold.

What the hell was he doing here!?

He went backstage immediately and tried to lose the mist but it was useless.

"Skull De Mort, The Immortal Stuntman and hated by death itself. A pleasure," Checker Face greeted with a bow. Porcelain like mask and metal hat glinting under the stage lights.

The smooth yet somewhat faked voice called upon him. It was a voice more akin to something meticulously made by a machine to create a perfect deep and charismatic voice. 

It made his skin crawl. 

"Yeah, It's the great Skull-sama. Thank you, but fans aren't allowed backstage. Maybe later sir! Have fun!" He flashed a show man smile and decided to fuck off. His steps went faster by the second to the point he was practically running.

Then Checker Face suddenly appeared in front of him, forcing him to stop before he crashed into the man.

"Now, no need to be in a hurry. I'm sure you have questions that only I could answer. Those purple flames of yours, perhaps." He smiled like he knew a secret that Skull didn't. Arms folded in front of him and elegant quiet movements in his steps.

For a moment, another identical image appeared in his vision.

"—ames you wanna know?"

He bit his tongue to get the static image away from his head. No. Not now.

(Get those out of his head.)

"No thank you," He answered wearily. "Skull-sama is very busy and has a show later."

Skull then stepped aside from Checker Face and continued to walk back to where his bike was located. He needed to get out of this place.

(His chest was tightening and his ears were ringing. The world was spinning around him and he felt sick.)

"Wait a minute, Skull. This is something you will want to hear," Checker Face beckoned and a hand over his shoulder made him stop and his flame bristled. 

(Get away get away get away get away get away—)

"The I Prescelti Sette, the Greatest Seven. You will find all your answers and wishes there. We'll pay handsomely too. Maybe you will even find Harmony."

"The I Prescelti Sette, the Greatest Seven. You will find all your answers and wishes there. We'll pay handsomely too. Maybe you will even find a home."

"—you feel it don't you? The aching longing for belo—"

Then the world darkened into a haze of dark purple and violet as Skull's flames roared and exploded.

Skull then felt anger. No mere anger, but rather fury turned to poison that traveled into his veins. The maddening feeling burning his sanity as all he could think of was a way to get off. Be free. Be angry.

A cloud rage.

There was a list of top ten things that mafia were afraid of.

First was Discord.

Second was the Vindice.

And third was a cloud rage.

So what will happen when the World's Strongest Cloud goes into a cloud rage?

The world will burn.

And when Skull woke up again. The large venue in the middle of a flat ground a few kilometers out of town was nothing but mere ash with the ground charred black.

His fists were covered in blood and Checker Face was nowhere near.

And he was alone. Very alone.

(He killed everybody, didn't he?)

Every crew member died in a freak gas explosion that wiped clean the whole venue for the internationally known stuntman 'Skull de Mort', including the man himself.

That was what the news said. 

Yet Checker Face was still alive, he knew.

Skull couldn't go back anymore. No. 

He didn't know those cast members whose faces were wiped from his mind after decades have passed. But he still felt guilty over it. 

The death over his mindless rage. He was terrified of himself.

But he was still an Arcobaleno. Reborn himself many times killed just as many if not more in a single mission.

All of their hands were drenched in blood yet only pathetic Skull felt anything at all.

He was on a run after that. Moving from country to country under numerous disguises to fend off Checker Face.

If there was one thing Skull learned from being an Arcobaleno, it was how to masterfully hide and run.

The man sometimes catches him but Skull was quick to escape the mist's pursuit.

The gathering when they first met was already a month late. The mist can't keep the others waiting any longer. 

Sooner or later, Checker Face needs to find a replacement cloud.

For now, Skull will run and be as untouchable as his flames' namestake.

It was two months before Checker Face finally stopped and news of the I Prescelti Sette was roaming around the mafia.

Skull collapsed right next to a brick wall in some alley in New York when the news finally settled into his mind.

His heart thundering and tears streaming down his face. He cries out silently and hugs his arms tight enough for skin to break as blood coats his nails.

Yet for some reason, freedom tastes like ash and Verde's medicines.

Chapter Text

Kawahira was in an awful mood. 

He had been ever since that cloud escaped him. That magnificent and wild cloud whose purple eyes burned itself into his memory as he went into rage and for the first time since Bermuda's creation of night flames in their own cursed day, injured him.

He could still remember the shock that coursed through his body as the petite civilian cloud's face contorted into a rage and the whole venue lit up in a potent hurricane of cloud flames that destroyed everything in its path.

Fists clenched and heavily powered by those very flames attacked him with vengeance like a wild beast. Kawahira's ethereal blood spilling on the circus floor as purple flames ate everything around them. The pain, a foreign feeling, filled him. 

Then he escapes only through his mist portal before the raging cloud manages to actually rip off his throat with his teeth. 

Kawahira was immortal. But in the opposite sense as the cloud. 

Skull De Mort was immortal because any injury was fixed instantaneously by his potent cloud flames. Yet he still falls prey to time.

Kawahira was immortal in a sense that he never ages. But wounds will still kill him if it ever touches him.

Yet he was the Strongest mist in existence. No mere human could compete with the original race.

Yet. 

He thought to himself as he remembered the taste of fear again for what seemed like eternity.

But, Skull was the strongest cloud to have ever existed. Kawahira knew that as a truth. Skull was likely the best humanity could and would ever produce. Enough to rival or even surpassed his race.

His violet eyes flashed darkly as the flames screeched out in anger. 

Yet he manages to lose the cloud. The cloud that changed everything.

The one to break the curse.

The Vindice and him already made a pact to end the curse with the former Arcobalenos taking control of its management as payment.

Kawahira didn't want to do it. He hated the system but it was his purpose, and to give it to the Vindice of all people was—

But the Trinisette had spoken and he would always follow its orders.

So he decided to gather the Final Arcobalenos and as their final mission, instead of cursing them. They will send their flames over the machinery that will keep and recycle flames to feed the pacifiers.

Then they'll get out of his life.

But he wanted that cloud. The cloud brought up by the Vindice as a dare for him to try to get hold off.

And as Bermuda planned, he'd practically ripped his hair off and gone on the most stressful goose chase around the world only for him to fail.

It greatly hurt his pride, he would admit. 

Not his best moment, when he stumbled into the Arcobaleno meeting in a haze of pain after their first meeting.

It certainly piqued the interest of the others. 

And now they wouldn't accept the cloud he managed to pick up as replacement. It also doesn't help that the said cloud really doesn't stand on the same stage as the others and was raised in a Famiglia.

Kawahira sighed and spied the Arcobalenos in their mission using his mist.

This was one of the most dysfunctional group he'd ever seen. And he'd been here since the creation of mankind.

A sky that already has a full set of elements, merely using the others.

The best of elements and with the ego and abilities to match. It always turns into a mess when alphas are grouped together.

Not to mention an out of place cloud.

Even a civilian would have done better in her place.

What a mess. 

Oh, well. It was none of his business now. Kawahira still has a cloud to find and stalk.

He hopes that he'll enjoy the surprise he has in store for the mysterious civilian cloud.

Kawahira summons a parchment into his hands and unfolds it.

MISSION #78

Capture of the World's Strongest Cloud: Skull de Mort.

He smiled wickedly and twirled his cane as he transformed back into Checker Face.

What a good day for revenge. 

Skull was having a nice day. 

The sky was blue and the weather fair. He'd been working on his bike when suddenly some fucker blew up his apartment.

One minute he'd been whistling a song he couldn't remember the name of, and next, he was rolling away from the explosion of the small building next to him which used to be his apartment.

An odd instinct like feeling starting pinging loudly like an ambulance alarm, making his head hurt.

Yet his eyes glowed purple—and without him knowing, a ring of faint orange—because someone blew up his apartment.

The only people who could do that were—

This had Checker Face written all over it.

So, fight or flee?

But before Skull could pick, loud familiar cursings filled his ears.

"What the fuck Kora! You did not just blow up the building!!"

"Shut up, shitty student! You're to blame too! Stop goading the damn cloud."

"Mou, we are currently in the remains of what is supposed to be part of the world's greatest cloud's territory."

Static filled his ears.

He was drowning. His chest is heavy and heart is clenching painfully. He couldn't breathe.

His senses picked up six familiar flame signatures.

Flames that are more than familiar. It was flames that seared itself through his soul. The remnants of a torn, forced and stretched harmony crying out.

Then he saw the new addition.

Cloud. A woman with a sneer on her red lips and swaying blond hair in a ponytail. Blue eyes burning with fury and bitterness as cloud flames gathered around her fist.

She was the one to blow up his building. She was the one to replace him. 

Even his most painful death of being torn apart in one of his accidents as a teen and having a hole blown into his head by Bermuda couldn't compare to the soul breaking pain he felt now.

(Whywhywhywhywhywhy—)

But isn't this what he wanted? To get away from them? No not be part of that toxic mockery of Harmony any longer? So why does it hurt so much?

Again, the familiar haze of rage clouded his eyes.

Chapter Text

Consecutive cloud rages in the span of a year. When Skull never had one in his previous life of more than half a century, he thought hysterically.

But he was in so much pain.

They were the world's best. Sent in a mission.

He knew what type of missions they did. He was part of them too, once upon a time.

Assassination. Assassination of a random but oddly capable cloud by Checker Face's orders.

He knew fighting Checker Face would come back to bite him in the ass. But he can't help but not regret it.

For the first time in his life, those moments when he fled and fought that mist, he actually felt like a cloud.

Skull stood up from where he was crouching down as he patted down the dust that gathered into his pants.

He they was lucky that he didn't have anything that important in the apartment and his bike as well as most important items had been in his bag. A measure of quick escape when Checker Face tries to chase after him again.

He waited for the figures to show themselves. The I Prescelti Sette.

He'd known they'd hunt him down no matter where and when. His family former colleagues had an obsession with perfection after all. They'd never leave a mission undone.

But that doesn't mean Skull will go down without a fight.

A shadow of sweet cyanide tasted in his tongue. The realization that he would never be able to avoid them no matter what time or life. And the acknowledgement that they were now here as his enemies.

Why did it feel like it was fated? 

Skull was a good fighter, half a decade with the Arcobaleno even when most of their time were as cursed babies, ensured that.

Unfortunately, he was going to fight the world's best. 'Good' wouldn't last a minute.

But he was immortal and his cloud flames were the strongest. Most importantly, he knew them.

So he let loose his flames. Because the one thing they never were able to beat him was the sheer capacity and potentness of his cloud flames. Let those fuckers choke on it.

"Hey, it's not nice blowing up people's stuff, you know," he said with a manic grin. Skull's eyes glowed bright purple as he raised his arm to let his flames envelope the remains of the building, letting the tattered ceilings that haven't collapsed multiply to form a large rubble on top of them.

"Cause—," Skull looks up and into the eyes that bore and imprint themselves into his soul. "—it tends to bite you back."

And he moved his hand downward for gravity to quadruple itself.

The ensuing destruction would have made Reborn proud. Skull hopes the hitman gets hit by a block of cement in the head.

But it would be impossible for something like this to kill off the world's best.

They were undoubtedly caught off guard but they were quick to move to survive the downpour of cement and rubble as well as the gravity enough to pin a man down to death. 

The fastest of them all, after all—

"Ah, that was quick," he said to Fon who had managed to appear before him.

He dodged the lightning quick kick rather than block it because Skull knew he would be sent flying to the next building if he did. A metal pipe that came from the explosion was near him and Skull grabbed it. 

The cloud ducked from a kick aimed for his head and retaliated by slamming the pipe on Fon's side. Making the storm move a few steps back. 

His newfound weird instincts also came in handy when he quickly moved his leg away from what should have been a clean shot at his calf.

A vein in his head throbbed as a response to being in vicinity of the sun again and he grabbed a piece of cement and enforced it with cloud flames then chuck it at the Reborn. Skull made sure it was a delayed reaction. Reborn was going to merely bat the fist sized rubble away but his eyes widened when it suddenly turned into a large boulder.

That won't kill him. But I hope he gets a concussion. 

The rumble on the ground cluttered loudly and he swiveled away from a mist made eldritch tentacle that Viper was fond of.

Fon, Viper, and Reborn were already attacking. 

Lal and Colonnello worked best as a pair. And likely had more trouble than the first three in escaping the rubble. It would take them an extra three minutes.

Verde would have the hardest time and would probably blow up part of the building to move from where he would have used his lightning flames as a force field. An extra six minutes.

As for the cloud. 

She'd better not show her face.

Damn, Skull must have really developed a bad case of Stockholm Syndrome. Too bad he doesn't think a therapist would be able to help him out of this one.

An image of a rain of knives didn't make him twitch but merely focused on Fon's ensuing barrage of attacks that he has to dodge—because he'll be a goner if more than five moves hits.

Reborn wasn't helping with the rain of sun flames powered bullets that causes a small crater wherever it hits.

He'd already been grazed by it many times and it burns in a way that no normal wound should. Sun flames clinging and activating the cells in a way that hurts and doesn't heal right.

But his Skull De Mort. No one other than him—even his future students—got shot more by the man. This was nothing.

One of the illusion knives he was dodging subconsciously hit his elbow and Skull let out a curse.

He immediately pulled it out and let his cloud flames heal the wound before turning to throw the damn thing back to its owner, but not before making sure to multiply it to a hundred. 

That was when multiple shots fired at him, drenched in familiar rain flames. 

The rain duo was back in action. Skull smiled to himself as he dodged the bullets that practically rained in the area now.

Now where was—

A small spark of green on the side turned into a large net that suddenly appeared above him.

Toxic green reflected on his widening purple eyes as the net fell over him—and Fon.

"Verde, you idiota scienziato! You did not!" Reborn bellowed on top of a tall pile of rubble somewhere on his right.

Skull had the urge to uncontrollably laugh at how bad they were at fighting together. In the past it took them nearly the 90th mission to synchronize their attacks well enough. For now they should still be in the awkward stage.

He'd know, Skull had been forced into standby the whole time to watch the missions from afar until he was deemed worthy to join after mission 104th. Where they worked together enough to 'protect' the useless lackey of the team.

But what was Reborn so enraged about? It wouldn't be trapping Fon. He's too much of an apathetic asshole for it.

It was then that he noticed everyone had stayed still warily, watching and waiting for something. Even Fon had stiffen.

Ah, the knowledge came to him like enlightenment. (They were waiting for him to get into a full cloud rage)

Skull had been in the cups of a cloud rage. If he'd been any other cloud then this action of trapping him would have lit the fuse and propelled him into a true rage.

But his Skull De Mort. An inverse and useless cloud that couldn't manage to properly rage.

So they were waiting for nothing.

Then his instincts screeched like sharp fingernails over a chalkboard. The most obnoxious frequency of noise that made him want to lash out.

He turned to his side to see the cloud with her hand on a large unusual gun. It was brimming with cloud flames and aimed at him. 

And in connection, Fon.

No, she wasn't. 

And the world darkened into a haze of dark purple again.

Chapter Text

The first thing Renato noticed when he first met the Skull wasn't the stuntman himself.

But rather, the loud and vibrant cloud flames that filled the room. His eyes hadn't been able to hide his surprise when the surplus of cloud flames appeared and practically drowned out every other person in the room's flames.

He immediately readied his guns and flames for the ensuing fight from a cloud that caliber.

Clouds were eccentric and must be coaxed into a group for any chance of harmony. They needed to be dealt with caution and understanding because nobody tries to cage a cloud. They were freedom in flesh and flames.

And all of them were keen on fighting for this cloud. 

Renato eyed the other members of the I Prescelti Sette and knew they were thinking the same.

Then out the door came a gangly looking ma—teenager. 

With wide purple eyes and hair a point to show cloud flames marking him. Makeup and piercing looked odd on such a young and soft face. Like a rebelling teenager.

He smiled questioningly with numerous openings on him like a clueless civilian.

"Hello! I'm Skull De Mort! Immortal Stuntman and all that. This is the I Prescelti Sette meeting place, right?" The teen greeted happily with hope thick enough to taste in his voice.

They never heard of him before. With likely only the exception of the mist, who was known as the world's best informant. So they simultaneously looked at Viper. 

"Civilian," they hissed under their hood incredulously. 

They looked back at the smiling innocent civilian cloud and the potent cloud flames brimming with potential.

This...was tricky.

But Renato's never been known to back out of any situation. The supposed sky in their group still hasn't appeared and so did Checker Face. They had time.

"Brat," Renato called out. "I think you're in the wrong place." He pulled out his gun and cracked it loudly. 

The civilian cloud—Skull—flinched at the weapon as his eyes widened.

"Um—Signore, I think that's—"

Renato licked his lips before pointing at the cloud and letting out a shot that grazed the teen's cheeks.

Blood dripped from the wound not a second before it immediately healed up. Only the small dot of red being proof that the wound had existed.

Renato couldn't help but be impressed. High speed regeneration due to potent cloud flames. This cloud can be a menace on the battlefield.

He then readied himself for the repercussion of taunting a cloud into a battle. Cloud instincts were like a highly reactive oil, one spark and an explosion was waiting to happen.

Yet instead—

"Ah! W-what was that for!" The cloud had yelled while moving away quickly from his former spot. Nearly tripping over his feet in the process. "You—you don't just shoot at people like that!"

No sign of aggression. From the corner of his eye he saw the scientist had begun taking notes and the rest had given them a wide berth.

Interesting. His eyes sharpened as his steps turned dangerous as he approached the nervous cloud.

Now to really test. 

A cloud, no matter how weak or strong, will react to manhandling. A movement of oppression that will result in rage.

So with sun flames in his body ready to head any wound inflicted, he raised his hand and wrapped it around the teen's throat.

He could feel the other's appalled flames at what he was doing. The number one NO when it came to clouds. Anybody knew that.

Yet—yet—

"Um—sir. Yeah no. Sorry, not into that. Can you please let go of me?" The teen batted his bright purple eyes questioningly. Body stiff from the action but not ready to fall into a rage like what was supposed to happen.

Ah, this was interstating~

"How about a no, lackey."

He smirked as he heard a sharp inhale from the rain and a cough from the mist.

"S-skull-sama is not a lackey! You don't—"

Renato gave a light squeeze on the throat and the cloud sputtered. "The sky isn't here yet. We'll have to teach you for now, lackey. How to be a cloud," he punctuated with a grin.

It was very fortunate for Skull to end up with them. An impossibly powerful yet naive cloud. Drenched in the naivety of civilians and submission that tasted so delicious. Such a beauty would be wanted by the dirty claws of the underbelly of the mafia. 

The Arcobaleno would take good care of him. And never did they regret their decision.

As the time passed, the bright, invaluable cloud of their group shined much brighter. An unpolished jewel they found that they hid for fear of it trying to escape when it finally discovers it's a jewel. Not like they'd allow it.

Fon knew everyone was willing to more than kill to keep their cloud. 

Because above all, Skull was theirs. And he was SAFE.

In the bloodbath that was the mafia world. There was nothing safe. Safety was a delusion of the weak. 

Nobody trusts you and you trust nobody. Members of famiglias 'family' kill each other on a daily basis. What was once a lover could turn into your murderer in a minute.

Nothing was safe. 

And Skull was safe. And theirs. 

Fon remembered the heart stopping moment when what seemed like an eternity, he had felt desperation like no other.

It was in the mission during their I Prescelti Sette days. 

He was the one in charge of looking after Skull as per rotation. It was a simple mission, to bust inside a famiglia and destroy one of their bases.

A child's play for their caliber and a mere casual mission. They weren't even the ones assigned to dispose of the base.

He and Skull were the look outs. Then reinforcements arrived. Fon made quick work of them but what they didn't expect was that another Famiglia had created a new alliance with the group and made them a weapon.

It wasn't anything that could kill him—or even keep him down for long. 

But it was surprising enough for a hidden sniper to shoot at him.

It would have hit him in the back and made him immobilized for a minute before his flames destroyed the bullet. 

The wound would be no problem. He'd been in much worse conditions before.

But when Skull had intercepted the bullet for him, it hit their cloud straight into the head.

In those seconds. When he turned back to see a blood splatter and Skull fall, it made him feel like the slowest man in the world.

His mind screamed at the betrayal. Of feeling like this. Trusting and caring, knowing it will only be torn from him.

Fon trembled as the rage he kept under wrapped for years burned through his trained calm like paper.

Storm corruption boiling through his veins as he had been ready to burn through the world for what he lost. 

Then Skull sat up and heaved. Coughing and groaning as he clutched his bloodied head like it hadn't been sprayed on the pavement earlier.

Alive. 

He'd lived through having his brain and head blown wide open.

Alive.

He rushed over to his cloud and pushed the man into the ground. His hand pushed through Skull's chest, as if trying to claw onto his heart just to see the proof that it was still beating.

It was. The quick dub dub of a heartbeat. Skull was still alive. (He hasn't left him.)

That was when they discovered that Skull apparently had a close relationship with death and that was far from the first time he had died.

"Downside of being a stuntman, you know?" The man had said with an awkward grin while scratching his cheek. 

It was in his name. Immortal Stuntman. His cloud flames are powerful enough to make any wound heal in seconds. He was literally immortal in a physical sense.

Skull was never going to leave them. (Never to die, leave them with a gaping hole in their chest, never to break in their hands.)

That was what completely solidated all of their hold on Skull.

To list down things.

Point one. Skull was a civilian. 

He couldn't hurt them. The teen was too weak to try it. But he has the potential to be a good fighter to fight for himself.

Skull was also sweetly innocent in all those civilian ways. Like a light always so happy and loud. A rare civilian who hadn't broken from the bloody weight of being introduced to the underworld.

Men like him who'd been born in the dark and lived through the blood brought by his years at the Triad. Fighting for survival. Earning a name and gaining his freedom as the strongest storm.

All the Arcobalenos were monsters of their world. They all craved the light and soft innocence the teen radiates no matter how much some of them deny it.

Wanted to put him into their palm and cover it so no one could dare covet him. Having the power to crush him, make him beg for them, never leave them.

The mafia wasn't nice. The monsters it created were even worse.

Behind each crafted mask were creatures who knew nothing but to take and hurt. Their twisted version of love hurts more than cares.

Point two. Skull was immortal.

He couldn't leave them. In a world that only knew how to take and hurt like them. Skull was an exception. Death shall not touch him. 

He won't break. They can't break him. 

He will never leave them. That was something and everything.

They love Skull. Obsessively so. 

In their own twisted way. The only way they knew.

The Arcobalenos do not know of kindness. Every act of such was part of the mask.

But Skull was different. They could take off the mask of civility and show the dripping tar of cruelty and madness that was them.

And he'd stay because he was too weak. He'd stay because he couldn't die. Skull De Mort would stay because despite how impossible it was, the naive stupid stupid cloud loved them as well.

All ugly monstrosity, cruel sharp corners and apathy. Skull saw and embraced it all. He loves them.

But they were creatures who never stopped wanting.

Clawing and tearing for more more more more—

Until even Skull's soul was seared with their colors. And even more so.

And they grew comfortable. Took such luxuries they couldn't even dream off decades ago for granted.

And now they paid the price.

The world was cruelest of them all. If Death couldn't take Skull. Then Skull could take himself away from them.

He'd grown strong enough. Unfortunate enough.

To the point even the world took pity. Or maybe it just scorned them long enough and decided to take the one good thing in their life.

The mafia was cruel. The Arcobalenos crueler. But the world was the cruelest.

They forget that lesson. They paid for it.

Chapter Text

When Skull woke up again, he was washed up on shore. 

Which brought great confusion because last he remembered, the state he was in didn't have a beach.

His clothes were in tatters and his throat parched. He didn't have anything on him either. The cloud doubts his bike survived him falling into another cloud rage.

Skull sighed as he passed his hand through his sand covered hair and soaked clothes. Great, now he was stranded somewhere who knows where without a single money or identification on him.

The next weeks are going to be a pain.

A year passed as Skull hid. Wary of everyplace as if expecting the Arcobalenos to jumped out of the dark corners.

But surprisingly, they didn't. And the stuntman knew that their missions as the I Prescelti Sette should be finished soon.

The fated day that will no longer happen was dated on June 27. It was June 25. Two more days to go.

So when a week passed without much fanfare, Skull finally relaxed a bit and decided to interact with society again after he started to hide in the wilderness when the month of June had arrived.

He had needed to earn a bit of cash so Skull begun doing odd jobs here and there. A construction worker, a driving teacher, a mechanic, or whatever discreet job he could get his hands on.

Skull would attract too much attention if he continued his stunt again so he kept low the whole time. He even became a temporary actor.

But the day he woke up with his head pinging like an alarm, he knew his time was up.

So when he arrives to serve his customer at the current cafe he worked at, he didn't have that bad of a panic attack when he saw Verde casually reading a book in the corner of the dingy cafe.

The scientist didn't even bother to look up as Skull placed down his order and was silently trying to get away from the scene.

Verde was about as prideful as Reborn, they always clashed because of this. He wouldn't care enough about a waiter to even look at them. He could take advantage of it.

But before, Skull could make a get away. He nearly dropped his tray when Verde spoke up.

"Adequate preparation of the coffee. The maker's name?" He asked with a tone like he didn't really care.

That was when Skull know he fucked up. He'd been the one to make the coffee. Years of being shot at by Reborn or forced by the other's to make their beverages had turned him into a master. 

Now he subconsciously makes them into the type they like. All the panic and overthinking of ways to escape made him automatically make the coffee the way Verde likes it. 

Then as if time had slowed, the scientist turned his head to look at him. Skull tried to cover his face with the tray but the action itself brought enough suspicion.

"And what—are you doing?" Verde drawled and Skull wanted to sink into the floor.

"Ah—sorry, the chef is Mr. Brown. I can call him in the kitchen. Wait sir!" He announced before making a run for it.

"Wait—"

His heard Verde call out to him from behind but he didn't care and kept on running out of the shop. There goes his seventh job for the month.

Skull was sleeping nicely, in a small apartment he rented and would likely not stay any longer than half a month.

It was a four story building with him picking the highest floor, not the fanciest place but there was a lot worse buildings to stay at.

Then his instincts pinged like a wind chime with a soft breeze brushing against it.

He opened his eyes wide to see Fon sitting over the headboard of his bed who also seems as surprised as Skull was when he saw him wake up.

"Oh, good evening," Fon greeted with a soft smile. "We hope we're not intruding Skull-san."

Skull closed his eyes again and counted to ten. If he's still there then they must want something from him and not just snooping.

When he opened his eyes, Verde was now standing beside Fon. Great. Absolutely Fantastic.

"What do you guys want?" Skull asked as he sent them a glare which must not look that intimidating with him still tuck under the blanket and head messy from sleep.

Fon blinked before putting on that calm smile again. Fake fake fake—

He knew Fon's smile. The calm smile varying like a vast collection. And the martial artist a collector.

The smile he uses when his speaking with strangers, so fake and placid, condescending to those who knew him.

When he was fighting, a calm smile bristling with storm flames yet his eyes dark and heavy.

During those he's fond off. Tilted enough to be charming yet still so empty.

(To the smile that was more like an animal bearing its teeth. Vicious and predatory. The pain pain pain pain as he clutched his broken arm as the beast pinned him down to the ground. The grip on his ankle painful and bruising. To the true smile so cruel and hungry.)

Skull clicked his tongue and looked away. "Go away. Skull-sama needs his beauty sleep."

He flinched when he felt curious storm flames reached out to try to poke his agitated cloud flames.

(Pain pain pain storm flames so toxic it disinterested everything, caresing him like a lover amidst his silent screams.)

"Fon," Reborn warned from where he was in the room. The smell of coffee and gunpowder familiar to his nose.

Verde, Fon, Reborn and—

"Mou, you need to pay for me getting this address." 

—Viper.

Where's the rain duo?

Skull his flames out and senses around his surroundings. Ah, there they were. Patrolling outside the apartment, the look outs.

As for the cloud, Skull wasn't sure if she was still alive after receiving the full brunt of his cloud rage. Probably not. 

He huffed before he decided to face the music again and sat up.

The teen rubbed his eyes and yawned before leveling all of them a look which clearly said he wasn't in the mood to be awakened at—he looked at the clock on his bedside table—two in the morning.

Not that it stopped them back then. He thinks they actually liked dragging him out of his bed at night during those days. Reborn himself preferred being dramatic and grabbing his feet from below the bed while Skull screamed his head off.

"So, again. What do you want?" 

Skull wasn't in the mood for tricks and lies. He had a bad day and knew the Arcobalenos' twist and turns too well to fall for them.

"It's a conditional experiment of the Harmony factor and how compatibility between the seven of us should develop to a substantiate result that has a high percentage of harmonization," Verde explained while fixing his glasses. The man just can't speak normal. Or as he said before. Refuse to lower his intellect for the benefits of the unlearned.

"So basically, you wanna test out whether all of us would be compatible for Harmony?" He clarified as he felt a headache coming along with blood in his throat. Because the fucking nerv—

"Yes," was the Verde's satisfied response.

Then he noticed that the seventh wasn't that traitor Luce. But rather, Collonelo.

"Hey—" he started with scepticism. "Aren't all of you kinda forgetting an important element. Um—the sky." Skull pointed out, with his headache setting in. He then stiffened and readied to duck because that level of cheekiness would result in being shot by Reborn.

They all seemed surprised by his words and looked at each other.

"He's not lying," Viper pipped in when they suddenly appeared in front of his face. They were too close and Skull nearly fell back into the bed from surprise.

"So—"

"Yes," Reborn cut off Verde with a cough in his fist. Then does dark charcoal eyes settled on him and he suddenly had the urge to flee. Like good old days except Skull was the only one to remember.

"It seems—" Reborn grinned in a way that Skull knew Chaos was going to crash into his life like a meteor and except of the dinosaurs, it will be his peace who will turn extinct. "Our dear, nuvola in fuga, needs a bit of a lesson."

Then the sun—their leader, the alpha of the pack—approached with a charming smile and held out his hand.

"Quite an unfortunate turn of event our meeting was Signore. But we would be pleased to get to know the cloud of the I Prescelti Sette."

Reborn turned up his charm to a hundred and almost anybody would have been fooled by his charisma. Key word almost.

All he could think was that 'wow Reborn must be desperate to put on Italian gentleman no. 17. Last he did that was on a botched mission where he either charms the manor owner or they'll all be eating bullets for dinner.'

Fun times. Fun times. 

But for that smile to be acted on him. Skull shivered in sheer disgust as his lips twitched. Itching to yell at Reborn to throw the disguise off. It creeps him the hell out. No thanks.

He'd rather take the cruel and mischievous smirks as the man rains bullets and bruises on him. 

"Uh—Reb—I mean Renato," shit he had forgotten the hitman hasn't changed his name to Reborn yet. Close call. "No thanks."

Then with great expertise gained from slithering away when he decides to get cheeky with Reborn. He slips off the bed and out the window quicker than anybody expected.

Adrenaline kicked in as air brushed against his face as he fell down the four story building. 

Stunt work experience helping him from crashing into the pavement. But he knew that he would get caught soon. It was like a play clockwork. 

He expected an impact of being slammed to the ground by a blur of smiling red and the scorching pain from those hands as they held him down.

The unseen smile by others, of a hunter catching its prey. Every bit the Hibari like what runs through the Vongola's baby cloud.

But he nearly stumbled back when Fon appeared in front of him and politely bowed.

"Skull-san. Please let us settle this nicely. How about some nice tea inside your apartment?" Fon asked so nicely with a soft tilt of his head. Abusing his pretty asian genes

It made bile raise in Skull's throat. No. That's not Fon. His Fon never used that smile on him

Not even when he pulls Skull into bed with him. He'd never tried to charm him then, callous hands from martial arts slowly straying into his body before he's swiftly pulled into the storm's room as the cloud rolls his eyes when the lock clicks and his clothes burned by storm flames.

Fon's beauty was lethal. Like a swift sharp beautiful of a masterpiece blade. Asian beauty at it's finest and as brutal as it's history.

This delicate display made his skin crawl. Just what do they want?

Skull hates to see them wearing their mask in front of him. Not when he knows the inky darkness inside. Dripping like tar and poisonous.

He loved them then. Now, he doesn't know anymore.

"Sorry, not really in the mood of joining. No thanks, again." Again.

Not even when the bleeding strand of his former harmony screams and rakes at his chest. Invisible wounds to add to millions more.

"No thanks," he smiled and forced the tears back. No thanks.

He'd rather drag himself away from the golden cage even if it meant bleeding to death the way out.

Love hurts the most after all.

Chapter Text

Lal wanted to curse out loud when they saw the cloudy sky jump out of the four story building—from the fourth floor.

Her first instincts was to catch the sky and shake the teenage menace that keeps on running just why he thought it was a bright idea

The next was to shoot at the imbeciles in their group because just how much do they need to fuck up for the teen to think that jumping out the fourth floor was better.

Why oh why did she end up being the only female and in turn with the common sense in this group. Viper's gender was a mystery and likely would cost about the same amount of money to buy the US to find out. 

At least the martial artist was quick to follow and chase after the sky.

Then she did cursed out loud when she remembered this particular sky was as much as a cloud as he was a sky.

Her stupid student was already running towards the two with a stupid smile on his face that she would have already wiped off with a kick if she was near.

They cannot afford the cloudy sky going into a rage like last time. The last time, the cloud managed to wipe the whole city and turn it into a rumble. 

With the utter moron of a cloud they were assigned with triggering the rage.

Alva Skolvski was the pampered cloud of a Russian Famiglia and had raised her on a pedestal upon activating into a cloud in her teens as Viper had supplied them when even the mist himself became annoyed enough to offer that information. 

She'd been the only one not to click together in their group. Flames not powerful enough, personality not mixing well even in the hot pot of explosions that was the world's best with egos to match.

The fact that she wasn't the first choice, didn't help her case either.

They were grouped together then, waiting for Checker Face to bring the cloud and sky into the room.

Apparently, Checker Face was late in giving the cloud their invitation and were going to immediately bring them instead.

Even before then, Lal knew this was going to blow up on all of them. You don't order or pressure a cloud. It always bites you back.

Even a powerful and mysterious mist like Checker Face—who they didn't know the level of—would have some problems. 

She hated it then, that it was obvious their hirer would throw the problem of having a cornered and likely pissed cloud at them.

But then the man took too long. It piqued their interest.

Then a mist portal opened and out of it was Checker Face landing back first in the room with his clothes chard and tattered as a roar of cloud flames forced itself into the portal like a clawing beast raging at its enemy.

The mist had immediately closed off the portal and heaved as he clutched his bleeding hand where pools of red dripped from his glove.

"I'm afraid. Some complications occurred," he coughed and even with his impeccable acting, he couldn't hide and tremor in his voice.

Then a surge of want flowed through her. Through them. Another one. 

Just like them. A mortal powerful enough to burn the world. Another member of the pack. They wouldn't let go.

Skull was effectively captured. 

He put up quite a fight, he was proud to admit. But without a cloud rage, he didn't have a chance of running away from the other Arcobalenos. 

The cloud groaned as he was carried by Fon over his shoulder like a pack of potato and gently dropped him back into his bed.

Gently. Goosebumps spread to his skin. That was just plain wrong.

Damn it, did they turn him into a masochist in his previous life!?

He crossed his arms and desperately erased the memories of when they were all gathered together in the past.

Skull wanted to cry. A bubbling rage and helplessness in his chest. Not again. Not again. He can't.

Why does this keep happening to him? Just what did he do to deserve this? Is this karma? He tried his best. He can't wipe the blood from his hands but he tries.

He tries. 

Skull felt the presence of rain flames poke and caress his trembling flames and the Deja Vu was enough to choke him.

No. They weren't them. 

"We would like to talk, Mr. De Mort. First of all, we would like to introduce ourselves properly," Lal introduced herself while she made her way to him. Elbowing Colonnello who tried to pipe in after her.

"Who the fuck is Mr. De Mort?" His face twisted into grimace because he'd never heard that before. Especially from them. It's always been 'Skull de Mort' or just Skull-sama from his fans. No one ever calls him Mr. De Mort.

Lal gapped for a bit before her lip twitched. Which indicates she's halfway between annoyed and confused.

Skull considers that a win. He smiled proudly as he tried his best to stump down the bumbling anger as always.

"Okay, listen here," he said while raising his hand in the hair to gather their attention. "I already figured out the flames and stuff. No need to tell me. And I also am pretty sure I don't want to be part of any harmony or under any sky. I'm fine. I don't need—," He gestured his hand to the entire situation. "—any of this."

Skull already was part of their harmony that always tipped near to discord. Like a single catalyst was needed to push them all the edge.

He didn't want it. (Lie)

Shut up weird ass instincts. He's not Vongola, he doesn't have their sentient Primo blessed bloodline.

"I'm sure we could convince you to reconsider," Fon negotiated and signalled Reborn to follow along.

The sun took the signal and placed a hand over Skull's shoulder. "Yes, Signore. Give us a week. You won't regret it." 

Skull snorted. Yeah right. A week turns into months and months turn into years. He knew these assholes. They'll never give up to get what they want and when they finally get it, they'll get bored and throw that stuff away.

He'd seen it again and again.

Verde with his studies and experiments. Reborn with women. Viper with their mysteries. Lal and Collonelo with whatever event or trainees they get. Fon with his Triads.

Skull wasn't an idiot.

"No. And to warn you. I'm a runner. None of you are going to get me stuck in one place for a long time."

He knew they didn't believe him. He'll show them.

Skull is starting to regret this. 

Like really bad.

He thought they were bad in his first life. They were worse in this.

Although other people would argue that them being nice and behaving around him like they did to Luce was good. To him it felt like drinking a mouthful of that horrible energy slurries mixed with Verde's vitamins that had gone rotten.

He'd rather kiss Checker Face than this. Really. Where was the fucker so Skull can give him a smooch and bite off his face after.

"If anybody tries to baby me anymore, I'll bite their hand," he growled. A sharp glare thrown at Colonnello who tried to bring him what was probably lukewarm bland coffee.

The blonde was horrible at making any kind of drink whatsoever. 

"Skull, do you want to go for a walk later?" Fon appeared like a ghost behind him. Skull nearly choked on his spit. That bastard did it on purpose.

"No."

The storm continued on smiling in the face of his firm rejection and tried to brush his flames against his.

Skull flared his own to chase off the flames and stood up from the sofa. He surveyed his room and saw that aside from the two, Viper was hiding using their mist flames in the corner.

Stalkers. The lot of them. He'd like to file a restraining order against the fuckers except no law could hold power above them.

Well, the Vindice might. But he doubts he buttered up enough to Bermuda for the Warden to help him out.

He was also hungry. And a hungry Skull is a grumpy Skull.

The cloud had wanted to make a nice Macaroni and cheese for lunch. Unhealthy, yes, he knows. But he was having cravings.

Then these menaces appeared in his apartment and made a mess of his plans.

Reborn, Lal, and Verde insisted on buying him lunch. Key word on insisted. And left the remaining three to guard the fort so to speak. 

He knows the three, he doubts they'd be bringing decent food. Verde would bring something statistically healthy without any taste and Lal would bring in a military meal. Reborn, would bring Italian food, as always.

Italian food is great and all. But Skull would like diversity. And with the amount he'd been fed by his senpai in his previous life, it had been enough for him to grow weary of even the delectable Italian cuisines.

For the world's best, they sure are bad at being normal. Or maybe that was it.

The dingy door to his temporary apartment of the month opened and the three went in holding each of their own plastic take outs.

Skull immediately knew they had a fight on which food to buy, typical.

"Skull, I brought you some actually decent food. You can't trust the non-existent taste of those two," Reborn greeted while smiling charmingly as he placed the take out smelling like mushroom carbonara and some kind of chicken dish on the dining table.

"Hmph! Such nonsense. The food I brought is perfectly adequate. Skull, don't believe that neanderthal," Verde sneered and placed his take out on the other side of the table.

Lal rolled her eyes and decided to place hers in the middle. Not wasting anymore words on the two bickering pair she regretted following.

Her eyes shot out towards Colonnello holding the cup of coffee and her eye twitched. "Colonnello! What did I say about you being anywhere near the kitchen!"

Thank you. Skull exhaled and decided to trust Lal's pick for today. He got a good feeling about it.

He approached the table under the watchful eyes of the Arcobalenos and opened the plastic to take out the hot take out.

Skull opened the container to see perfectly cooked barbeque chicken legs. Huh, he didn't expect that.

"Thanks Lal," he said out loud before taking a plate and placing some of it on it. He also grabbed a fork and made his way to the living room.

The TV was playing some kind of soccer match when Skull sat on the sofa and began eating.

It actually tasted nice. Then why did Lal keep trying to feed him military meals back then. Those were either too bland or too much beans and protein.

Then the sudden silence in the apartment clicked in on him. His brows furrowed as he looked back and saw all of them having some kind of silent staring contest with Lal and Collonelo looking smug.

What the fuck. He was too sober for this shit. And Skull doesn't even drink.

"Guys, aren't you gonna eat too?" He called out to jolt them out of whatever that was and continued on eating.

The sofa space sunk beside him and saw Verde take a seat. The scientist had a plate of what seems to be Caprese-style chicken salad. That—actually seems nice.

"You also need some vegetables for your meal," he huffed and ate at his plate. 

Verde was pouting. Skull wanted to snicker, his apathetic lighting was pouting like a little kid who wasn't picked when he raised his hand at class.

It was adorable. He must be crazy. And masochistic. Yeah, that must be it.

Because the moment he opened his mouth with an ahhh. Verde turned to him skeptically and Skull raised an eyebrow.

What he was doing dawned on Verde as a shell shock expression filled his face before he smoothed it down. 

He raised a spoon filled with the salad and chicken then fed it to Skull.

The thing was, the Arcobalenos must have some kind of incompetence kink with sadism on top.

Sadism was their bread and butter. The incompetence kink kicks in when sometimes they pressure Skull into doing things for him when he is perfectly capable of it.

Like eating, Skull knows what to eat. He just sometimes doesn't like to. So his food is normally taken suddenly by one of them.

Then with their other hand, another food and they would try to feed Skull with their own hand.

It was mildly traumatic having Reborn straddle him, trying to feed him a salad after throwing his chips.

Or Mammon suddenly shows up to throw away his cola and places a glass of strawberry milk on his hands instead.

Of course, the moments of kinda-kindness were rare. Most of the time they were utter bastards.

So it wasn't weird for him to be fed like this. Plus, it looks like Verde was enjoying himself. Doesn't change the fact that Skull is still mad at being turned into an experiment by Verde, anesthesia and being under doesn't mean it's better.

He was shaken out of his stupor when slender fingers lightly touched his jaw. Verde had turned his head back to him and was waiting with another spoon full of food.

Skull opened his mouth instinctively, and ate the food. He was chewing his food and wondering why Verde was still holding on to him.

It was odd. He was feeling relaxed, more than he'd thought he would be. It felt familiar. The comforting haze like an old companion he was used to.

He could feel another hand on him, caressing the back of his neck with a warm hold. Reborn.

Then the sofa made a sound when Viper plopped themselves to his right, where Verde was on the left.

Familiar silent steps arrived in front of him as Fon sat down on the floor with his back leaning on the sofa beside his leg.

The twin rain flames joined the presence of a flaring sun behind him as they leaned over the back of the sofa.

Now Skull was feeling tired. A yawn left his mouth as his eyelids started to drop. This was odd.

Those were his last thoughts before he fell asleep. Under the watchful eyes glowing the colors of the rainbow.

"It actually worked," Lal said dubiously while tangling her hands over the purple locks of their young cloudy sky.

Verde himself was also quite skeptical that this patch up plan made by the mist actually succeeded.

But lo and behold, it did. Now their young cloudy sky is sleeping deeply on the couch, lulled discreetly by increasing rain flames pushed towards him.

They didn't actually have a solid plan on how to woo the cloudy sky. Their plans never match and a fight breaks out at every try in making one.

They tried this particular plan—after multiple failed ones—half-heartedly. Viper had decided to try to use rain flames to calm and sedate the cloud enough for him to be pliable and unlikely to run.

The Arcobalenos were skeptical because rain flames, while subtle, are easily identifiable after use. It almost instantly puts any target asleep, something that does not go unnoticed when the victim wakes up and pieces things together. 

Worse was that Skull is also a cloud. They have the second worst reaction to the tranquility effect of the flames, only beaten by storms.

Verde calculated that the usage of rain flames would take at least three months or more of conditioning with subtle and extreme control of the rain flames. In small bits in a controlled environment until Skull becomes accustomed to the feeling and falls for it.

He didn't expect it to work for the first time.

It was as if the cloudy sky already had a history of conditioning with rain flames. Which was impossible since no flames were identical, and he definitely fell for the unique rain flames pattern of Lal and Collonelo.

Interesting. Something to observe and research about later.

But for now—

Verde reached out for the hand of their hopefully future sky and held the small hand over his. It was filled with calluses from years with stunts and motorcycles. Yet no less slender and delicate. 

He'd done his research—they all did. Skull De Mort, history and birth a blur as his earliest recording was a child raised in a traveling circus without any parents.

Had brown hair and purple eyes before his activation at the age of 12-14 years old which turned his hair purple.

Investigation states that he left the circus at the age of 15 to start his career as a stuntman. Became famous quickly because of his skills and potent cloud flames helping him.

Currently 19 years old, his birthday was a few months ago. He was supposed to be an Arcobaleno just as he turned 18. The youngest of them all.

The baby of the group. A little spitfire capable of burning down an entire city in rage yet looks about ready to cry when he discovers his potted plant was dying. 

Brilliant flames fully compass all of them. Sky flames hidden under potent cloud flames capable of shadowing any flames.

Capable of holding all of them. Being their sky. What a wonderful realization it was then.

Hopefully, things will continue to be better now. They just need to keep their mask on and wipe off any inky toxic tar that drips from time to time. Their masks must be clean and perfect. No matter what. 

A loud racket followed by curses from both Colonnello and Reborn alerted Fon while he was lounging on the sofa of their future sky's living room.

Viper beside him clicked their tongue and misted away, likely to check up on the situation.

After all, their sweet cloudy sky is with the two.

Fon blinked in surprise when Skull came tumbling down the stairs with Colonnello in tow. The purple haired cloud reaches and fights the rain for something clasps in the blonde's hand.

"—give it!"

"No, just let me—ow!"

Apparently Skull was a biter, how cute. Fon swiftly stood up from the sofa and hurried over to help out their dear cloudy sky. It helps to gain some favor from Skull 

With a quick movement, he snatched the thing they were fighting over, an old worn out photograph.

A yellowing piece with crumpled ends. Cracked and wrinkled with age. In the photo was a cherubic young child with soft pink cheeks and large round purple eyes. He also had sweet curls of chocolate brown hair atop his head. He was smiling brightly at the camera with a tooth missing.

Fon blinked slowly, then immediately tucked the photo inside his sleeve and turned heels. Footsteps quickened as he left.

He heard an indignant squawk from Skull and a loud protest from Colonnello but pretended not to have heard as he began plotting on where to properly hide this tidbit of small treasure.

A slip of mist surrounded the area and Viper appeared to haul their cloudy sky back to his feet and fuss over him. 

Fon smiled at the scene. Then turned to leave. He still has more opportunities.