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Chapter Text

On another dimension, Sawada Tsunayoshi would have his very self sealed under the mistaken good intentions of his father, and the taste of treachery would burn under his tongue for years

(On this dimension, unforeseen circumstances would prevent both adults from visiting; thus allowing Tsuna to grow without knowing betrayal from such young an age)  

On another dimension, Sawada Tsunayoshi would listen to the words of his peers, feel the disappointed gaze of his mother, and let the poisonous words turn him into a hollow shell of could-have-beens 

(On this dimension, words of wonderment would fall to his ears, stares full of affection would follow his every move, and he would let the encouragement surrounding him turn him into a better man, full of hope) 

On another dimension, Sawada Tsunayoshi would be so beaten by life, and desperate for belonging he would not be capable of saying 'no' to the only family he ever knew, even as it killed him

(But on this dimension, loved by friends, with a family formed on blood and tears, sure in the knowledge that he had a place to call home, he would rather burn all that stood in his way, than kneeling before those who have long abandoned him, even if all that's left in the end are ashes and smoke) 

Tsuna had been having a good week. 

Kyouya had only sent twenty criminals to the hospital this week, he had finally convinced Kyouko to share her lemon meringue pie recipe with him (even if it cost him three bags of his special coffee beans), and the deal with Hiroshima had gone through without any incidents. 

So it was only natural that something had to go wrong. 

The first clue were the cars. It wasn't that they were black, with tinted windows and most likely bulletproof what gave him pause. It was that everybody knew that Tuesdays' were family day. And everyone knew to stay away or risk a repeat of the 'Incident of 2015'. Nobody wanted a repeat of that. 

The second clue was his mothers' voice. You could hear Nana yelling all the way to the end of the street; as sweet as she looked, that woman had quite the set of lungs as well as fantastic aim (polished by the careful instructions of his lover). 

The third clue was also his mothers' voice, or more notably the sudden lack of it. 

In the end thats what 'got him on the move. Checking his gun was charged, he clicked the safety off and advanced with sure steps to the neighbors house in order to jump the fence to Nana's backyard. He scouted out the intruders through the semi-open door, there were eight of them, all male, at least four of them carried weapons. It was pretty standard, barring the blonde behemot of a man that was holding his mother captive, he just needed to incapacitate the visible armed ones before dealing with hi- blank noise filled Tsunas ears, all he could do was watch the scene in front of him until the sound of a slap made him snap out of his rage induced daze- that son of a bitch! fucking scum, he was seething, his teeth were grinding, how dare that bastard take advantage of his mother! He'll fucking kill him! 

With that thought in mind, Tsuna banged the door open. Taking full profit of everyone's momentary shock at the sudden entrance, he pulled the trigger, sending three consecutive bullets at the closest people to him while advancing towards his mother, pulling her out of the pigs arms, who seemed to remain still in shock. 

Quickly putting Nana behind him, he took the spare gun Reborn always told him to carry (thank god it had become habit by now) and gave it to his mother, the shots just now would alert his people, but if they didn't arrive soon he would have to deal with everyone here while Nana ran to safety, and he'd rather not take a chance in case there were other assailants waiting outside. 

One of the assailants -tall, with a darker shade of blonde, and brown eyes- tried to move closer, but the sight of his gun pointing at him stopped him in his tracks. 

"State your names and affiliations, before I'm tempted to simply shoot you and throw you in the ocean for trespassing on my territory", oh, how he wished to do just that, but he needed information first, if there were going to be more people coming after his family he needed to be prepared. 

The attackers all seemed to jump at his voice, and now that he could look at them closely they all appeared to be foreigners. The one who had stepped out was still staring at him, maybe they didn't understand Japanese? 

Before he could repeat himself in english, they seemed to come back to themselves. 

"Ah, we were not aware this was claimed territory", lie 

"We're only here on family business", true 

"We wish you no harm" ... 

When it seemed as if that's all they would say, Tsuna raised his brows and motioned for him to continue with the gun, "Names and affiliations". 

A twitch of the eye was all that betrayed his annoyance, if the blonde thought that would distract him he was really disappointed. 

Minutes passed in silence, Tsuna kept his gaze cold and pinned on everyone until finally the other side gave in first. 

The younger blonde seemed to be the spokeperson of the group, "My name is Enrico, these are my brothers Massimo", broad shouldered with brown hair tied in a ponytail, "Federico", lean and tall, with a lighter shade of brown, "and Xanxus", taller than his brothers, tan skin and black hair with an assortment of feathers strung along, "that's Squalo", silver hair reaching all the way to his thighs, "Dino", lanky and blonde, with a furcoat of all things, "Romario", short black hair and glasses, "and that is Iemitsu", the fucking pig. 

"We're from Vongola", huh, Tsuna felt like raising his brows again, but all he did was tilt his head, Vongola was a big-shot mafia family from Italy, Tsuna didn't have any businesses with them, and to his knowledge there have been no altercations between them, Tsuna had no interest of dealing with them in the past, and for his part he just let them be, but if Vongola was sending hits on his family, then there would be war. 

Tsuna straightened his spine and felt his mothers' fist clench tightly on his shirt, "Shishi-kai has had no quarrels with the Vongola, we operate on distinct sides of the business, so what I'd like to know is what made him think that sending out a hit on my mother was a good idea.", Tsuna was seething, several eyes widened, and when it looked like they were about to protest, he snarled.

"Did the Ninth think there would be no consequences? Does he think just because we're Yakuza we would be no match for you? Is he looking down on us? Was this meant to be a warning? Did he think I would just find my mothers' corpse and when he came knocking asking for my territory I would be scared and run like a coward?", he spat, "That I would not pay blood with blood and even more blood!? That I would not burn his fucking world and make him witness as each and every thing he ever loved burned to ashes and got scattered in the wind? Does he think me weak? 

He attacked like a coward, targeting my family. 

So tell me," his voice deceptively soft, "why should I not kill you right this fucking instant and wage war on Vongola?". 

Xanxus was having the fucking time of his life. 

When the idiot of Sawada offered his son for the marriage alliance with the Chiavarone, he was disgusted, but he thought the man would at least have the decency to have talked it through with his family. He seemed to have given the trash too much credit. 

The Old Man had instructed the four brothers to go with Sawada and the Chiavarone Don when they met with the trashs' son, so they could take care of any inconveniences that appeared. 

They knew this was Yakuza territory, but seeing as they were just here for the bastards family they didn't pay much attention to that. According to Sawada they would just have to arrive at his home, pack whatever was necessary and they'd be on their way to Italy with the Broncos' 'bride' and Sawada's wife. 

So when they arrived at the little two stories house and the blonde idiot burst through the door yelling about his 'Nana darling~ where's my Tuna fishie, I found him a good husband! We'll be leaving in a few days so we can finally live together! Isn't this great darling~ Now we won't have to worry about our baby boy finding someone to love him' and they found a pale-faced housewife holding a skillet, Xanxus knew that the trash had lied about having seen his family 'just a while ago' and talking to them about the marriage alliance. The brute was most likely hoping to bulldoze his way through this, like everything else. 

Hence, when the petite woman comenced to yell obscenities (wow, some of them even he did not know) and throwing things at Sawada (that skillet would have struck Sawada's face instead of being struck on the wall if the blonde had been just a little bit slower (he was impressed)), he just stayed back enjoying the show. 

He was about to intervene when the trash started making out with the woman (because even if they were married, it was clear to see that the brunete was trying to fight him off, and married or not married no was no), but before he could step up, some little shit was banging through the backdoor, shooting at them (bastard grazed his arm), and taking the woman away from the idiot. 

Once everything was calm once more, he tuned to look at the newcomer and stood still because that little fuck looked just like Primo, if Primo had brown hair and were a tad bit shorter. How did the fucking trash not think to warn everyone that his son was the fucking spitting image of Primo -because the little fuck was obviously his son, that was Vongola blood in him. Though looking at the bastard, it seemed like not even he knew - 'just a while ago' his ass, he'd make sure the Old Man had a good fucking long talk with Sawada about keeping information secret and presenting false input.

Also not keeping up with his family, his son was fucking part of the Yakuza- what fucking decent mafioso wouldn't put someone to keep a watch on his family, honestly this was just disappointing on Sawadas' part. 

Moreover, even though a part of him wanted to snarl and blast the little fuck when he accused the Vongola of sending a hit for his mother, a bigger more primal part of him, just wanted to fucking purr, because that, that was the attitude of someone who prioritized family and would stop at nothing to defend and keep them protected, and those were the eyes of someone who had long ago made his bones, who had soaked in the blood of his enemies and payed it no mind because they deserved it. And he could respect that.

If nothing else the little fuck seemed to have more balls than most of the seasoned mafioso he knew, so even if only for that he could come to like the brat. 

Of course, when a minute later a squadron of suited and armed men (Yakuza) arrived, and Reborn appeared after them making a beeline for the little fuck to apparently try to swallow his tongue (what. the actual fuck) he heard his brothers and the shark almost choke on trheir spit, Sawada faint and the Bronco turn as pale as a sheet, he knew it would probably happen sooner than he thought. 

He smirked, Sawada was going to be dead meat when they told the Old Man, though looking at how Reborn seemed to be trying to devour the little fuck through his mouth, maybe he'd kill him first when he found out Sawada tried to marry his lover off, probably the Bronco too for being the almost-groom. 

Really, Xanxus was having the time of his life. 

Chapter Text

"Romario, I leave the famiglia to you-"

"Sir-",

"-I know you'll do me proud,-"

"Sir, if I may-",

"-give the mares to Ivan, you know how he loves taking care of them-"

"Sir could you just-",

"-Bono and Brutus get to keep my liquor shelf-"

"Sir-",

"-they'd piss on my grave otherwise, you know that, anyways let Michael keep my desk. I've seen how he looks at it-"

"...-",

"-don't deny it Romario, you know it's true-"

"..-",

"-as for the rest, let them choose, just tell them I love them and it was a pleasure working with them-"

".-",

"-I can now go in peace, thank you Romario for all-"

"SIR ", 

"-!!- yes?" 

Romario had been observing his boss carefully for the last two hours, he'd been rambling for the most part of the trip to the hotel, all the way through check-in and had then proceeded to attempt to wear a hole through the carpet with all the pacing around he was doing. 

"If I may, Sir", a narrowed eyed glare prevented any interruptions this time, "I believe you should hurry to get dressed, Signore Reborn would not be pleased if you were found lacking in any manner during the coming assembly", which caused a sharp mocking sound to escape the blonde Don's mouth, "Yeah, at this point my face alone would be enough to cause him displeasure", a huffed excuse for a laugh followed the statement, and much as Romario would have liked to disagree with his boss, this time he really- could not. 

Not when he remembers the calculative coldness that poured from those dark pools of black, the slight downward tilt of the lips reflecting disappointment or the smooth blankness of his face, a careful façade in the face of encountered enemies, no recognition in his features save for the minute tenseness in his muscles. 

Aware. 

Alert. 

Prepared to take any danger down before it became a threat. 

Not when he knew, that at that moment, the danger-... was them. 

No, he really cannot say otherwise. And the pained aura coming from his boss lets him know he's come to the same conclusion. 

He hopes hid boss' previous stint as Signore Reborns' student will serve as some kind of damage protection. 

Still, when confronted with such a wild card there's no anticipating what he'll do. 

"Dio, dacci la tua benedizione"  

The room is ensconced in the sort of stillness that comes with precipitation, when one is filled with more nerves than steel, and Federico -not for the first time- wonders at the idiocy of the Older Generation. 

A small sound directs his attention to the door leading to the hallway, where he sees the Chiavarone boss -still a little pale, but now with the addition of subtle despair etched onto his face, enter the room with the ever trusty Romario right behind him. 

And really Federico can't blame the young Don, not really anyways, after all even he felt somewhat off kilter after the events of that morning. 

xx

There was not one of them who hadn't been affected in someway by the completely-different-than-what-they-heard Sawada spawn and his unexpected (talk about fucking plot twists) relationship with the World's Greatest Hitman. 

Whether it be from his oldest brother dealing with the fallout from such a major faux pas in the underworld, such as taking Sawada's word for granted ad bypassing the local Yakuza's right to grant permission into their territory.

As well as the headache he must be sporting after the heated discussion he engaged in with their father about false information and letting too many things pass under the radar when it came to Sawada. 

Apparently their old man saw it fit to travel to Japan ASAP in  order to rip Iemitsu a new one (he didn't say it quite like that but the meaning stands). 

Though if Enrico was heading towards Throbbing Vein™ levels of irritation, Massimo was at a completely different end of the spectrum.

For all that he was the most burly of the siblings, he'd always been the calmest of them all. And if the way he was decimating the cheese tray and the champagne bottles littering the floor were any proof, he wasn't planning on changing anytime soon. 

And as funny as seeing his younger brothers' Rain in a mild constant state of shocked denial over witnessing Reborn showering his lover (very male lover, at that) with kisses, it had nothing on the pure wholehearted confusion Sawada was emitting through every fucking pore in his body, which -he's not going to lie- was definitely enhanced by the black eye that had made itself at home on his face and bandaged arm he had (if anything, he should be proud his son had that much of a good aim), since he had to be 'incapacitated' in order to remove him from his family home, and if they just happened to use a little more strength than required- well. 

Then of course, there is Xanxus. 

Xanxus, who seems to be going though a respectable portion of the hotels' wine selection in his ever-growing joy at the shit storm that this trip has turned into. And since the disdain the youngest of the Vongola heirs feels for the CEDEF boss has never been a secret (the rest of them are actually capable of acting), there is naturally nothing out of the ordinary with this situation. 

In Xanxus' own words 'any fuckup of his is a god fucking win of mine'. 

The cheese really was that good, though that was not actually the reason why he was devouring it as if he were a starved man. And much as he enjoyed a good flute of champagne now and then, he'd rather have a nice whiskey in the rocks, but hence he could not.

Because he was scouting. 

And what Massimo found left him even more sure that they'd really fucked up big time on this one. 

The exits are all clearly visible and seem accesible, but each and every one of them has potential blind spots, which would be nigh undetectable to the unseasoned eye. 

That added to the knowledge that they were being observed even if he could not for the life of him (possibly quite literally in this case) figure out from where. 

There were no hidden cameras. 

The personnel wasn't paying any attention to them unless called for. 

There were no windows from where a sniper could get a good shot (and fuck that he had even been forced to consider snipers sure as shit said something) 

Which only left one option available. 

And he prayed to a god he didn't believe in that he was mistaken. 

Because if he wasn't? 

Well. 

That opened a whole different can of shit he did not want to meddle in. 

The shitty hotel was weird. 

That was the only thing Squalo could- would focus on (voii forget the shitty kiss, forget it, forget the jealo-it'll never happe-he'll never see you like tha-fuck fuck fucking shitty bos- why did it have to be him wh-forget it). 

The shitty hotel was strange and he did not know w h y. 

Sure, it could have been the overly polite staff that answered your questions without ever actually giving you an answer. 

Or the other clients in the lobby, the ones who radiated so much normalcy and civilian out of their very pores that it made him itch. 

Or the ones that radiated the complete opposite, who looked so fucking un-civilian that he wondered how they weren't in jail. 

Or it could be the fact that both of these entirely different types of people could communicate and engage in shitty conversations with such ease it felt normal. 

This shitty hotel was strange, the shitty people here were strange, fucking Sawada's brat was strange, fuck even goddamn Reborn was strange, and Squalo just wanted to fucking leave. 

Of course, that's when the shitty brat arrives with Reborn by his fucking side, like he belongs there

(and that surety it hurts, it tears at him, because he'll never happen, he won't ever belong, not quite like that, not with who he wants to belong)

and a squadron of goons, different from the ones that morning, but still of the same shitty caliber (they were almost Quality, almost). 

The shitty brat walks through the fucking huge lounge (not as big as the Varias' but still) to sit in a dark leather wing back chair that had been unconsciously left alone by everyone in the room and that's when his shitty boss decides to become interested in the fucking going-ons of the room once more.

Which Reborn of course decided to encourage (or discourage, you can't really know with him, fucking voii) by leaning against the back of the chair and proceeding to shamelessly stroke his lovers neck in a could not be more obvious if you fucking tried show of possession, practically spelling 'he's mine, I fucking dare you to touch him', which who would have fucking imagined he'd be the possessive type, what with all the female lovers he'd had in the past. 

(but this was different wasn't it? 

even you could tell, 

and it wasn't just gender,

it was everything. 

the way they touched, 

the way he lost control, for him, 

the way he threatened you all, for him, 

and you knew, 

it was love. 

and you knew, 

this man, who held the heart, the soul, the very will, of the greatest assassin the mafia has ever known, 

this man held your life in his hands, 

and you hoped he didn't let it fall, 

because you know, you knew, you will know, 

that if he lets go, 

he will grasp it, 

and he won't care to hold it safe) 

" And so the lion fell in love with the lamb, 

but it wasn't a lamb,

it was a sheep, 

and inside the sheep lay a wolf"