Chapter Text
Target 01-01: Rejection! Reborn’s Devastating Response
Haru Miura checked over the bento one last time, making sure all of Reborn’s favorites were there and nodded in satisfaction. Admittedly, it probably wasn’t quite as good as what came from the kitchen in that underground Vongola base ten years into the future, Kyoko was better at putting the spices together, but for this…
…for this Haru couldn’t bring her best friend along.
Scenes flashed through her mind of Tsuna-san screaming at her that she didn’t understand and her own tearful response. When Tsuna-san finally got around to explaining everything, she’d barely been able to hide the sheer devastation she felt at being left out of the loop and so much of an inadvertent burden. She managed to thank him for finally coming clean, but the hours after were spent sobbing into Bianchi’s tear-soaked shoulder.
She still had nightmares of the battles and devastation she watched overtake her beloved Namimori, but, eventually, they had to fade, right?
Haru took a deep breath.
The first step to make them go away was to make sure they never happened.
Haru squared her shoulders and pulled on a jacket, checking her appearance over in the mirror quickly. Her eyes still bore a few of the dark shadows that accumulated in the harrowing hours spent in the base, but she’d done what she could with concealer. Her hair was a bit longer, they’d spent weeks in the base and it had grown out a bit longer than she’d worn it since she entered junior high and realized shorter hair fit into wig caps better. She twisted one of the chocolate colored strands around her finger then smoothed it into her customary ponytail and made sure her barrettes were in place. There was no telling whether or not she’d run into Tsuna-san or not and she refused to look anything less than her best when she did so even if her target wasn’t him tonight.
“Ciaossu.”
“Hahi!”
Haru nearly jumped out of her skin at the nonchalant greeting and her eyes flashed up to the suit-clad toddler on the wall. The endless dark pools of the Arcobaleno’s eyes under the fedora made her shiver.
“R-reborn-san, how are you feeling?” she stammered.
“Much better now that we are back in Namimori proper,” Reborn replied. “Why did you call me out here so late, Haru?”
“I—” Haru hesitated and then thrust the bento up in Reborn’s face. “This is for you.”
Reborn took the bento and set it on the wall, Leon scrambling down from the brim of his fedora and settling on the wrapped lunch. “Answer the question, Haru.”
Reborn’s voice was flat and cold.
All the carefully rehearsed lines and arguments Haru spent the better part of the three weeks they’d been back from the future composing fled under the icy look on Reborn’s face. She shuddered hard and took a deep breath, lifting her chin a bit to meet the cold eyes she wanted to do anything but look into. “I want a home tutor,” she blurted out.
“What?”
Reborn’s expression didn’t change, but the ice in his voice crackled, making Haru realize the kind of fear that Tsuna-san probably had to deal with daily.
“I want to learn the way Tsuna-san, Gokudera-san, and Yamamoto-kun did. I want to be able to protect Tsuna-san and Lambo and—”
“No.”
The word cut her off in mid-sentence and she met the inscrutable look on the home tutor’s face.
“Why?” she asked.
“Tsuna would not want you to go down that path, Haru,” Reborn said.
His voice was gentler, but resolute. “But I’m tired of being a liability! I don’t want Tsuna-san to have to worry about protecting me if another family attacks. I want to help Tsuna-san! I want to be a proper wife and able to protect my husband and children!”
“Tsuna would not approve,” Reborn replied. “Respect his decision.”
“But—” Haru began.
“There are many other ways that you can help Tsuna without becoming something he wouldn’t approve of,” Reborn said.
“Reborn-san…”
“This discussion is closed,” Reborn stated. “Thank you for the bento.”
He walked away and Haru’s knees gave out beneath her. She felt the tears start and stubbornly wiped them away, forcing herself to her feet. It wouldn’t do for the future wife of a mafia boss, especially one of Tsuna-san’s caliber, to be caught with such an ugly face in public. She ran back to her house and barely remembered to lock the front door behind her before going up the stairs and into her bedroom, barely sparing a glance for her father quietly reading in the living room.
As soon as she hit the bed, she curled into the tightest ball she could manage and cried as hard as she had in the aftermath of Tsuna’s admission.
A week later, Haru stared out the window at the moon riding low on the horizon. Her hands clenched, fingernails biting into the fleshy parts of her palm. Tsuna-san was acting strange at school again according to Kyoko and neither of them could get straight answers for the future Tenth Vongola Boss or any of his guardians. The new transfer kids and the rest of the Famiglia were sticking closely to Tsuna-san lately and Haru couldn’t help feeling like he was in danger—again.
“Why won’t you talk to me, Tsuna-san?” she whispered. “I want to help you.”
Her eyes went to the tabletop where the papers were scattered all over—none of them having anything to do with the math test the next day. After Reborn’s rebuke, Haru did try and look up other ways to help Tsuna-san—she’d read numerous things on the various mafias, watched movies, read books in the library that had nothing to do with her semester finals, but none of them felt right.
She picked up the battle manga she’d borrowed from the library and started reading it again.
“Is that what you call fighting?”
The words were delivered in a scathing tone accompanied by laughter three nights later and Haru whirled around to see a petite woman sitting on top of the tunnel at the kids’ playground Haru turned into her training space. The woman was petite and the first thing Haru made out was the blood red lips in the lights that surrounded the playground. “Leave Haru alone,” Haru snapped.
The woman snorted again. “What are you an elementary student?” she scoffed.
She flung something at Haru that the brunette instinctively reached out and caught then twirled the pipe like it was a baton and bringing it to bear. There was a flash of expression on the woman’s face under the pageboy cap. “You’ve got good reactions,” she observed.
“Haru isn’t helpless,” she said proudly.
The woman’s laughter wasn’t kind. “Oh please,” she snorted. “You haven’t even managed to put a hole in the shell yet fledgling. It wouldn’t take much to just take you out.”
The woman produced something that extended into a staff with the rasp of metal on metal and a metallic click. Without further warning the other woman came at her. Haru managed to ward of the first snap of the staff only to feel her leg give as the woman cracked the staff against the back of her knee. Haru fought through the resulting pain and brought her own makeshift weapon to bear, knocking the staff away and nearly hitting her opponent’s leg.
The other girl dodged and cold laughter echoed again.
“This might be very interesting,” she said.
Haru glared at the woman. “What do you mean?”
The other woman retracted the staff and flung it at Haru hitting her solidly in the midsection.
“You’ll find out soon enough.”
Haru grabbed the staff and watched the woman disappear into the night and tried to get up. The leg that was hit wouldn’t function properly and Haru collapsed back on the ground, her eyes narrowing. This would not defeat her.
She used the pipe the woman threw at her as leverage to get up and held on to it for a long moment until it felt like her leg would support her. She took a stumbling step and nearly fell again catching herself and taking another deep breath. She would keep moving.
Slowly, she made her way back to her house and dumped the pipe in a rubbish bin a block or so from her house. She nearly tossed the staff in it too, but decided at the last moment to hold on to it. Haru was almost to her house when her name echoed and she turned to see a familiar form running towards her.
Emri Sumiyoshi had been a dear friend since they were four years old. “Emri? Aren’t you out a little late?” Haru asked.
The smaller girl stopped in front of her and smiled. “I could ask you the same thing, Haru,” she said. “Were you sneaking out to see your boyfriend?”
“Hahi! Haru doesn’t have a boyfriend!” Haru exclaimed.
“You don’t?” Emri asked. “You have Sawada Haru written all over one of your notebooks like a future wife practicing with her husband’s last name.”
A blush exploded on Haru’s cheeks and she was glad for the concealment of the night shadows. “Tsuna-san has not responded to Haru’s confession,” she said.
“How long ago did you confess to him?” Emri asked.
“Ah…um…Haru doesn’t really remember…” Haru mumbled.
For the most part the statement was true. Haru’s sense of time was completely skewed from being ten years in the future and coming back the same night that she left despite the days spent in that timeline.
“It was that long ago then?” Emri asked.
Haru gave her friend a weak smile and Emri scowled. “He’s a loser, you shouldn’t think about him anymore,” she declared. “If he can’t answer a question in a timely manner and continues to lead you on then he’s no good.”
“Tsuna-san is not ‘No Good’!” Haru burst out.
“Wait…'No Good' Tsuna…as in the boy from…Namimori…” Emri trailed off her eyes going wide and she clapped a hand over her mouth. “Haru…we need to talk about your taste in boys…”
“Haru’s taste in boys is impeccable,” Haru said proudly drawing herself up and glaring at her childhood friend. “Tsuna-san is kind, loyal, a great Boss, and…”
“Boss?” Emri repeated. “Did you find a part time job and he’s your supervisor?”
Haru froze, she couldn’t believe she just gave that information away. She clung to the out that Emri gave her. “Yes, it’s something like…volunteer work and Tsuna-san works with me on it.”
“Oh, okay.”
Emri seemed to relax slightly and then she looked at Haru again. “You were limping, are you okay?” she asked.
“I was playing in the park and got a little overenthusiastic,” Haru said.
“Well, let’s get you home and take a look at it,” Emri said. “We need to make sure you’re okay, we have a gymnastics competition coming up and I don’t want coach to disqualify you for injury—though she’s already talking about disqualifying you based on attendance.”
“Haru’s attended enough meetings to get into the competition!” Haru exclaimed.
“I know, Haru, but you’re not completely there even when we’re practicing,” Emri scolded her gently.
Emri guided Haru to the Miura house and the two girls slipped inside. Haru’s father Hiroshi already retired for the evening based on the fact the light in the living room was already off. “Hiroshi-ojisan didn’t leave the light on for you?” Emri frowned.
Haru gave her friend a guilty look. “He thought I was already home for the night,” Haru said. “I snuck out my window to go to the park.”
“Why?” Emri frowned.
“It was practice,” Haru said and hobbled towards the kitchen. “Do you want something to drink?”
“Practice for what?” Emri asked, taking off her jacket and shoes and following Haru into the kitchen.
“To be a secret agent,” Haru declared.
Emri giggled. “I think you need to read a different manga for a little while,” she said and practically shoved Haru into one of the kitchen chairs. “Sit there, I’m going to go get the first aid kit.”
Haru stayed in the seat a wry smile curving her lips. Admittedly, she had spent a good several weeks trying to find a transformation pen to help Sailor Moon defend the Earth or turning over every card she saw with her replica Clow Wand in her hand when they were younger…
Emri re-entered the kitchen a few minutes later and gently tugged Haru’s sock down and Haru flinched as it ripped away a scab. Emri whistled softly when she saw the injury, “You did a number on yourself, Haru, I didn’t even know you could hit that hard…”
“I haven’t done gymnastics for ten years just to be a weakling,” Haru mumbled.
Emri giggled. “I suppose not. It looks like it’s mostly a nasty bruise, but there's a little bit of broken skin. We’ll treat it and you should be fine in a couple days.”
Emri tended to Haru’s knee and the girls settled down at the kitchen table with tea and snacks, chatting a bit about some of Haru’s more questionable exploits in the realms of trying to be a heroine of a manga series after reading them.
Emri left a little while later and Haru limped back into the kitchen to clean the mess then made her way slowly up the stairs. She entered the room and flopped down on the bed, staring distantly at the ceiling over her head.
“I wonder if Bianchi would teach me…” she murmured to herself and resolved to get a hold of the pink-haired woman tomorrow to ask.