Work Text:
Wakana is more than one person at a time. That’s something most people that interact with her quickly find out.
If one were to give a name to it, it’d be dissociative identities, but it really wasn’t quite something so medically inclined. She just was a different person. Loving and sympathetic on one side, strict and naive on the other. One part of her was polite and reserved, the other was outgoing and callous.
It is among these personalities that she met Nura Rihan in one town and Sawada Iemitsu on the other, and their relationship, polyamorous and functional, occurred. When the twins were conceived, paternity tests determined one for each man, one of each side of her, and one for each family.
Sawada Tsunayoshi is born fully human, a direct descendant of the esteemed Vongola, just like his father.
Nura Rikuo is born three quarters human and a quarter Youkai, fated to take over his father’s role as the heir of the Nura Clan.
The only blood the twins shared was that of their mother’s. It didn’t make sense— humanity wasn’t capable of such a ridiculous feat. Perhaps, she was never quite human. But no one, not in the Mafia or the realm of Ayakashi, could understand her.
She never elaborates. And perhaps, they were fine leaving her as the mystery she was.
Tsunayoshi is five when he’s startled by a chihuahua and a flame that shouldn’t burn in someone so young lights up in his chest. Rikuo is present as well, but he doesn’t see it. He simply runs to his brother, fervently chasing the tears away.
Timoteo watches, unwilling to leave this be.
“I’m really sorry, honey,” Iemitsu says, when it’s time for him to go. Things are only going to get worse from here, inheritance struggles and mafiosi politics conjoining. He won’t be coming home anytime soon. “Would you hide, for me?”
Nana is not told about the Mafia, but she is willing to understand him without an explanation. She’s always willing to understand things without explanations— she’s got her own secrets, and she very much respects others’, as well.
The Vongola, with its base in Italy and spread dangerously thin in Japan, would never be able to protect this little household in any secure way. And getting Nana’s name into the official records of the Vongola would bring only trouble, because Iemitsu, as only the outside advisor, had no authority to grant her special treatment there.
The Vongola famiglia was a dog eat dog world. They did not particularly take care of their own unless they were in the same circle of loyalty (which was a fair none) , and it was a harsh life Iemitsu was unwilling to bring Nana into.
“Of course,” Nana says.
“Say hi to Rihan for me,” Iemitsu kisses her goodbye. Then, to his little boys, he cradles them in his arms. “You two take care of mom, alright?”
Rikuo is a little under six when Nura Rihan dies in front of his eyes.
He doesn’t remember it happening for a long time. It’s normal for him to willingly forget things he doesn’t want to remember. For a long time he feigns ignorance. For a long time, he pretends he hadn’t watched his father get stabbed in that Kerria garden.
Tsunayoshi takes Rikuo in his arms when they sleep, and when the nightmares come, he soothes him back to his side.
“I’m going to take over the Night Parade,” Rikuo says. “I don’t deserve them. They serve Father, not me. I don’t want to be the supreme commander.”
And Tsunayoshi respects that.
“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” he says. “You have my word, Rikuo, I’ll always be on your side, no matter your decision.”
Even if the world were to crumble around them and the people that loved them left one by one, they would always have each other.
Tsunayoshi is seven when he lives happily in Ukiyoe Town, in their huge haunted mansion, living amongst youkai and spirits despite being fully human himself.
“Young Master! Young Maste— ah, Tsunayoshi-bocchan,” Kubinashi spots the boy around the corner, “have you seen the Young Master anywhere?”
Tsunayoshi jumps when he’s called, and turns around stiffly, clearly hiding something. “AH! Uh- Uhm. I,” he looks away. “I didn’t see Rikuo do anything. Nothing at all.”
“Ah,” Kubinashi says, resigned. “I understand, then. Whatever it is, lunch is almost ready, so maybe you can go to the kitchen and help Wakana-sama later?”
Tsunayoshi brightens at the suggestion. “M’kay!” he says. “But ah and I. I need to go from Rikuo first. So uhh…”
He looks aside nervously and Kubinashi spots a trail of what looks to be paint.
Definitely a prank that Kubinashi is not looking forward to seeing the fallout of. Seriously, Rikuo is such a bad influence on Tsunayoshi.
“I’ll leave, so do whatever you want,” Kubinashi says, “I didn’t see anything.”
Tsunayoshi smiles gratefully, and Kubinashi pretends not to hear Tsurara’s frantic screaming at odd points of the day. Aotabo lets out a string of horrid expletives and it’s all Kubinashi can do to close his ears when Lord Hitotsume starts screeching and the kids start laughing. Tsunayoshi is crying as he gets chased down, though, but that’s also not Kubinashi’s problem.
Rikuo is eight when he awakens as a youkai for the first time in his life.
As a quarter demon, he can only maintain that form at night. His personality also changes rather drastically— a surge of authority, impeccable maturity, and the ability to take command in a way no one’s ever seen him do.
Rikuo’s always been little, mischievous, and bratty.
At night, Rikuo is a leader that commands the highest respect from his lieges, and he’s willing to do anything to claim his position in the clan.
“I’m very proud,” Gramps says, contemplating the situation dearly, Tsunayoshi in his lap. “Rikuo’s just like me in my prime! He’ll grow up well.”
Tsunayoshi chuckles nervously. “Are you sure?”
“Of course I am!” he insists. “He’s such a cool bastard. Knew he had it in him.”
Tsunayoshi hums, leaning into his grandfather’s chest with a sort of apprehension. The Rikuo he saw, when he transformed— was so different . He was suave, and brave, and smiled slyly. Of course, the demon blood in him ran rampant, and they fundamentally lived differently— but he still couldn’t believe that gap.
“It was like he was another person,” Tsunayoshi says. “Will he turn back into the Rikuo I love again? Oh. Uh– it. I- It’s not like I don’t like the other one too, but… just…”
Gramps takes a drag of his smoking pipe.
“I guess that’s one thing he takes after his mother, then,” he says. “Does your mother ever come back, when she changes between Wakana and Nana?”
It’s subtle, and they can’t always see the difference— but yes, she does. Both were part of her, and neither were unwanted. They were just different.
So Tsunayoshi nods. “They’re very different… but they’re both Rikuo, right?” he says. “Okay then. I love Rikuo no matter what.”
Gramps grins. “You twins really are close, huh? I’m envious!”
Tsunayoshi is nine when he and Nana move back to Namimori, where they clean up their old home and rebuild their life there.
Perhaps it’s the influence of the powerful shrine and legacy of the Hibari onmyouji house in the area, but Namimori is blissfully free of dangerous youkai. The energy here is so weak that only paltry ayakashi ever wander around, and the land is spared from demonic influences.
“It’s a better place for a human like Tsunayoshi to live in,” Gramps says. “Of course, I don’t want to separate the twins either… but you’ve seen how Rikuo struggles to fit in with his human friends.”
And Wakana relents. “You’re right,” she considers, morosely. “Tsunayoshi isn’t going to live as a youkai. He deserves a human childhood.”
So they parted ways and lived separately.
Rikuo visits every summer, and Tsuna goes home every winter. Sometimes it alternates, but they never miss a vacation to see each other.
Tsunayoshi teaches Rikuo how to live like a human, and Rikuo teaches Tsunayoshi how to hold himself firmly against the youkai. They’re both clumsy, wimps, and just a little airheaded, but they do their best, holding each others’ hands and trudging on forward despite their separate fates.
They plant a sakura tree in the backyard, and together, they watch it grow.
Rikuo is ten when he gets better at being human than Tsunayoshi.
“You’re… good at math,” Tsunayoshi says, like it’s baffling. “How?”
They’re comparing their tests for the semester, because Wakana had asked them to study today. It was a complete blowout— Rikuo aced the test, and Tsuna got single digits.
“You’re good at sports, you’re good at studies…” Tsunayoshi whines, “you don’t even need to go to school.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Rikuo says, looking through the tests to figure out what went wrong. Everything. Everything went wrong. “Of course I have to go to school. I can’t be the Supreme Commander of all demons if I…” he thinks, “can’t understand human history.”
“That’s a lie and you know it. The only thing Father cared about was poetry ,” Tsunayoshi sneers at him. “The Nura clan have only one coda in life— sneak in, eat all the food, and leave!”
“If I do that, my head will elongate like a caterpillar.”
“What?! Really!?”
“No, I just made that up. Anyways, I have a very serious question, Tsunayoshi. Are mistaking all the 7s for fancy 1s?”
“I don’t! And I don’t want to know!” Tsunayoshi gets up quickly, opening the door to a spillage of about a dozen tiny youkai. “Everyone, let’s go play!”
“Hey, Tsunayoshi!” Rikuo gets up, “you’re not going to be able to get into junior high if you don’t bother studying!”
Tsunayoshi makes a loud groan, “I'll deal with that if it ever comes up, geez!” He makes an ugly face at his brother. “I’m not like you, you’re perfect at everything! I’m not good at anything. Maybe you should go take my tests for me!”
“Don’t be ridiculous!” Rikuo yells, but it falls on deaf ears as Tsunayoshi runs off, chasing and being chased by the little ones.
Rikuo sighs, leaning against the doorway.
Rikuo’s gotten less capable of keeping up with all the energy in the mansion, but Tsuna’s never failed. He spends time with each and every one of them, and sometimes he can even be found braiding Kejoro’s hair or helping Aotabo move things from room to room.
The littler youkai are always running to him for the most mundane things.
“Tsunayoshi-bocchan! Tsunayoshi-bocchan!” one of them runs up to him with a jar of mayonnaise, presumably from the new load of groceries Wakana brought home, “help! Help!”
And Tsunayoshi proceeds to struggle with it for the next two minutes.
“You’re so weak, Tsunayoshi-bocchan!”
“Weak! Weak!”
Tsunayoshi makes a desperate noise, wringing out his sore hand. “Did someone glue this shut or something? It’s not budging at all!”
“It isn’t! You’re just noodle-armed!”
“Why on earth do you want a jar of mayonnaise, anyways? You’re going to eat it straight?”
“YEAH!”
“...why do I bother asking?”
Rikuo can’t help but smile. Tsunayoshi understands them all, in a more genuine way than Rikuo ever could.
“...how can he say he’s not good at anything?” Rikuo sighs. “He’s more of a leader than me already, and we’ve barely gotten started.”
Tsunayoshi is eleven when he learns Fear.
Getting attacked by youkai is something that just tends to happen, even in Namimori. There aren’t many dangerous ones, but once in a while, they slip through the cracks to cause trouble.
Tsuna doesn’t expect to get assaulted in the night by misfortune of wrong-place-wrong-time, and he definitely doesn’t expect Rikuo to transform into a demon for the first time in three years, just to save him.
“You’ve got some nerve, doing this where I can see you,” Rikuo threatens the lowly no-names. “Spread the word. Any more of you that interfere with the Sawadas will answer to the Nura Clan. I don’t mean this threat lightly.”
At night, Rikuo is cruel and cold-blooded. He slices through a demon with a blade, and he bats no eye toward it. He leaves blood splattered across the walls, and steps over the corpse.
Tsunayoshi doesn’t like this sight at all.
“You didn’t have to kill them,” he says, when they scurry off leaving just the brothers together. His clothes are torn, his shoulder run through by a gash, half a concussion wracking his head.
“That’s where you’re wrong,” Rikuo says. He’s never been so sharp in his words before, so it surprises Tsunayoshi. “Humans learn with mercy. Youkai, we learn through fear .”
Tsuna glares. “You know that’s not always the case.”
“Oh?” Rikuo points the Nenekirimaru at Tsuna, lifting him up by the chin. “A mere human wants to discuss ideologies with me?”
Tsuna doesn’t know what to say to that. This is his Rikuo, without a doubt— but their beliefs did not line up. Rikuo was right— Tsuna, a human, had no right to criticize a youkai’s way of life. He was just being put in his place.
To youkai, to fear is to respect, not out of intimidation, but out of admiration. Rikuo commands that sort of charisma. As for Tsuna…
“I have the right,” he says, firmly. His eyes are set in a scowl. “I am your brother. It’s my duty to rein you in when you get too far from me.”
Rikuo stops short, taken aback.
Behind them, a single human emerges from the darkness, a smile on his face. “Oh? What a rare sight. A carnivore in the moonlight, cornering a weak animal.”
Hibari Kyouya stands, tonfa in one hand and a shikigami in the other.
“Oh dear, look what you’ve done,” Rikuo sighs, “wasted some time, here comes the whistles. You are explaining this to Mother.”
“Is it my fault?!” Tsuna snarls.
“How curious,” Hibari chuckles at the sight, low and fueled with the desire to battle. “What exactly is your connection, I wonder… regardless, it’s unpleasant for such a creature to loiter in our domain without first greeting the land deity. You shall be bitten to death.”
“Hold on,” Tsuna says, getting up, cradling his arm but getting between them, facing Rikuo, “you didn’t greet the land deity?! I thought we established long ago you can’t cross into this territory without— agh! I’ll save it for later! This is your fault, go apologize!”
“Uhm, Tsunayoshi,” Rikuo has to resist the urge to whack him over the head in exasperation, “I was kinda in a rush trying to save your ass.”
“Well that’s done, so go!”
“Okay, okay, I get it,” he groans, but he doesn’t sheathe his sword yet, instead he points it at the onmyouji before him who’s watching in mild amusement. “But I’ll go after I fight this guy.”
“STOP.”
“No, fight,” Hibari says, poised for battle.
“Don’t encourage him, Hibari-san!”
Rikuo is twelve when Tsuna’s will to live burns bright orange.
It had been a little hiking incident, when a momentary distraction leads Rikuo right off the cliff. Tsuna had reacted so quickly, grabbing an outstretched hand just in time to keep from losing his brother into the valley much too deep to see in the morning light.
There was nothing to hold onto, and it had rained last night.
They fell into the verge together, rolling tumultuously until the shrubbery broke their fall. Rikuo’s leg was now pointing the wrong direction, and Tsuna’s jacket tore where a nasty branch scraped past it.
“...hey, don’t— I think we’re better off waiting until the Sanbagarasu find us—”
“No, your foot is broken!” Tsuna insists, hefting Rikuo onto his back. “It hurts, right?”
“I mean yes but,” Rikuo clings on, “you’re not doing so good either, and I’m leaning on your wound like this…”
“This isn’t enough to stop me,” Tsuna says, and his voice is firm.
Firmer than Rikuo’s ever heard before.
Tsuna is weak. He doesn’t have youkai blood to strengthen what little physique he has, and he definitely lacks in the athletic department. He hates anything that hurts, and he whines through every lap in a marathon. He had to be dragged up this hike to see the sunrise today, and he was complaining the whole way.
And yet, he doesn’t hesitate for a second to heft his brother on his back and soldier on. Rikuo isn’t light, so he strains with effort, forcing himself upright. He doesn’t complain, not even when the blood on his back stains through rikuo’s sleeve, definitely chafing painfully with each stretch.
At some point, his steps grow stable, his breaths even, and he looks around in uncharacteristic silence.
In the few moments he looks back, Rikuo wonders if it was his imagination, that those warm brown eyes were a sharp amber.
(Rikuo’s heard from Zen that his eyes turn red at night. Maybe this was like that, too.)
“You’ll be fine,” Tsuna says. His voice is deeper, and he sounds more reliable than he’s ever been before. It’s a surge of confidence Rikuo finds hard to believe is true, but he couldn’t help but close his eyes and cling on, believing. “I’ll get us out of here, so just rest, alright? Don’t waste your strength.”
Rikuo smiles into Tsuna’s back.
“We’re brothers,” he says, like he doesn’t know. “We definitely are.”
In the end, it is Zen that has to patch them up, scolding them every minute they’re awake, wrapping wounds with all the tender touch of a man that definitely doesn’t hate humans as much as he claims he does.
“Hey, calm it with that fire,” Zen hisses, touching Tsuna’s forehead. “You’ll crumble the bandages and I’m not going to rewrap it. I sure as hell ain’t touching that shit.”
Tsuna doesn’t understand what he’s asking for. What fire?
“Calm down. Breathe slowly,” Zen says, closing Tsuna’s eyes. “You’re already safe. You have to let your dying will rest, or you’ll never heal properly.”
Tsunayoshi and Rikuo are almost thirteen when many things happen all at once.
An infant shows up at Tsuna’s house, claiming to be a hitman that will raise him up to be the Tenth Boss of an esteemed Mafia family in Italy, the Vongola. Apparently, Tsuna’s the only legible successor available due to a series of unfortunate deaths in the family.
“Wait wait wait,” Tsuna has to stop the not-child before he goes further.
“I will not,” Reborn says, “now let’s begin with lesson one, self introductions. I am Reborn! And your name?”
“You may not have my name!” Tsunayoshi replies on instinct. (It’s not just fae that does that, spirits do, too. He learned that the hard way before Kubinashi came to his rescue in Ukiyoe.) “You already know who I am, that’s enough introductions. Back to the succession matters–”
“Wrong answer! Now die!”
Nana looks up when a large explosion shakes the house. She giggles, “oh dear! Tsu-kun must be really getting along well with that new tutor of his. They’re rowdy! Reminds me of everyone back in the mansion.”
Youkai have made noisier fusses before. A gun-totting, trigger-happy infant that’s a master killer is hardly the most surprising thing he’s ever seen.
“Like I said! If you just want someone alive with blood connections to whoever that is, can’t you look for Dad?!” he yells, scrambling completely flustered into the kitchen. “Mom! What’s Dad’s name again?”
“Iemitsu!”
“Right, Sawada Iemitsu!” Tsunayoshi repeats, turning toward the infant in time to barely dodge a gunshot that embeds into the walls. “He’s alive! How about you go find him?”
“He’s off the table of candidates.”
“WHY? You just said I’m the only one left, is this the time to be picky?!”
“I do not need to answer that,” Reborn says. Then, smiling, “keep dodging. You’re surprisingly good at this.”
“You’re going to get the Hibaris at our door! MOM STOP HIM!”
“Now now,” Nana sings, inspecting the bullet hole in the wall before considering the right tools to fix it. “You’ll be in the house from now on, Reborn-kun, so you have to obey the home rules. No murder before 6pm.”
“Okay, Maman.”
“MOM!”
Rikuo sighs, sending a firm look at the youkai of the house before leading his friends through the house. What a terrible time to be the Supreme Commander of demons… of all things, there’s an onmyouji around.
He’s dealt with onmyouji before— but honestly, Hibari Kyouya was probably an oddity. Since strong ayakashi were rare in Namimori, he was so much more interested in getting a good fight than actually exorcising him, and he left when the sun rose, because apparently it wasn’t a fun fight if Rikuo was handicapped.
Rikuo wonders if he’ll be able to go there and see him again. Ah no, not to fight, he swears, he was just a very interesting onmyouji, that’s all.
“Hey, Rikuo-kun,” Kana speaks up, looking around curiously. “I… I might be remembering this wrong, but didn’t you have a twin brother?”
“What?”
“What?? Nura-kun’s got a twin?!”
“Wha- wait, I might be wrong, guys, don’t overreact yet,” Kana backtracks, flustered. “It’s just— I thought you two were always together, you know.”
Rikuo’s not too surprised that Kana remembers. “I do,” he says. “Tsunayoshi lives out of town now with my mom. I’m here to stay with Gramps.”
“I see…” Kana says. “Is he doing well?”
“Yeah! He’ll come here in the summer! Wanna come by? I think he’ll remember you.”
“Eh? I shouldn’t impose—”
“Oh, you live separately?” Yura says, turning to the conversation with interest, “what a strange family situation. I can relate, in a way. I live apart from my family as well.”
“From Kyoto, huh… that’s a long way,” Rikuo says. “Do you and your brother get along?”
Yura grimaces, “absolutely not. He’s awful. He saddles me with all the chores because apparently I get special attention from the others and— agh!” she throws her hands into the air, “he is irredeemable!”
To the surprise of the Kiyojuji Paranormal Patrol, Rikuo bursts out laughing at that. “I didn’t know you could make such expressions, Kekain-san,” he says. “In a way, you could say your brother brings out the most natural in you!”
Yura pouts, cheeks flushing red. “I’m just less polite with him.”
“That’s all that matters, sometimes,” Rikuo says. “I’m like that with my brother, too. Probably the other way around, though.”
“Ehh. So you’re twins, right?”
“Yes! And your brother’s how much older?”
“Uhh,” Yura counts her fingers, “how many years ago was 1992?”
Rikuo easily leads Yura away from whatever’s caught her attention, and the crowd watches in amazement as they delve into a conversation about siblings and how troublesome family dynamics can be.
“When he’s home, all the attention’s on him! He’s definitely the favourite,” Rikuo crosses his arms. “He’d get served pudding that I didn’t have. And the servants actually call him by name. For me it’s always ‘Young Master, Young master’, geez…”
“Totally relate. They never drop the ‘sama’. It’s awkward hearing adults call me that!” Yura pouts, “as for dessert, my family gives us very equal portions and my brother steals mine anyways! He’d definitely piss off a saint one day and get himself cursed! I’m glad to be out of that house for now, he’s such a menace to society.”
“I’m sure your brother’s also a lot livelier when you’re around.”
“...well, you’re probably right about that,” Yura says with a sigh. “Honestly I think I’d call myself the only thing between him and Buddha’s hand of karmic judgment. Literally, because I’m stronger and he will definitely use me as a shield.”
Later, when rat youkai kidnap the girls and hold them hostage with his inheritance on the line, Rikuo doesn’t hesitate to call upon his will and lead the Night Parade in search of moral vengeance.
“You’re unfortunate,” Rikuo says, smiling. “Usually, I’d consider giving you some mercy, but unfortunately, my impulse control’s out of town. Everyone’s restless.”
Namimori gets into big trouble when Reborn’s around, but Tsuna makes a lot of friends and the house gets noisy, and things just work out. He does not want to think about Mafia Land, he will not.
“Oh dear, Tsu-kun,” Nana says, coming into the room where Tsuna, Gokudera, and Yamamoto are working on their homework. “Rikkun called. It seems like we won’t be able to go home to Ukiyoe this summer.”
Tsuna balks. “What’s wrong?”
Yamamoto and Gokudera perk up at that. Neither of them have heard of Tsuna’s apparent other home before, though Yamamoto vaguely knows that Tsuna’s got extended family outside of Namimori.
Reborn looks over from his hammock, curious as well. He knows very little about Nana’s side of the family, and they rarely speak much of it, too.
“Well…” Nana cradles her face in thought, “he said the eighty-eight demons of Shikoku were invading, so it’s not really safe to be on the streets.”
Yamamoto does an immediate spit take. Gokudera malfunctions.
Tsuna reacts in a way neither of them expect— with complete resignation. “Shikoku?” he asks, genuinely confused. “What would they want? If they’re bringing an army, are they going to war?”
“I’m not sure. But you know how it is,” she chuckles, “maybe they’ve gotten into another big disagreement, you know those boys. I’m sure they’ll make up soon.”
Meanwhile, Gokudera has searched up a multitude of things.
“Holy shit you’re not joking,” he whispers, showing the screen to Reborn, “the UMA gossip chains are haywire about accidents occurring in that town, supposedly caused by youkai.”
Tsuna leans over, earning a surprised yelp from Gokudera.
“What the— Ukiyoe’s in big trouble!” he exclaims. “I’ll go call Rikuo and ask what happened. Why didn’t he tell me anything?”
“For the same reasons you’re not telling him anything happening here, of course,” Nana answers, matter-of-factly, and Tsuna freezes.
“This is— the situation’s different.”
“Are you sure?”
Tsuna falls silent. It’s not different at all— Tsuna’s dealing with inheritance problems, and so is Rikuo. And they want to keep each other out of it, because Mafia and Yakuza have the same levels of notoriety that should never mix. Honestly, it’s pretty ironic how similar their situations are. Maybe that whole schtick about twin telepathy wasn’t too far off from the poetic irony of the universe.
“Okay, I guess we’re not going home this summer, then,” Tsuna sighs. “Honestly that works out. I wondered how we were going to do it with Reborn and everyone else here.”
“Hey, we’re not nuisances,” Reborn says, “we’ll go. As very polite guests.”
“Yeah, right!” Tsuna snarks. Reborn raises his pistol. “Hey! Don’t shoot inside the room!”
“Fair enough, meet me outside.”
In the midst of laughter and frantic escape, Nana leaves the room with a smile, going back to the kitchen to get dinner done. Bianchi casts her a curious look, but Nana doesn’t address a question that isn’t asked.
“So, you guys visit your mom’s home every vacation? No wonder the house’s quiet when I pass by,” Yamamoto says.
Tsuna chuckles, “yeah, I guess. My brother lives there, so we try to meet often. Sometimes he comes here, but it seems like this year’s pretty busy for both of us.”
“What? Tenth, you have a brother?!” Gokudera asks. “I hadn’t known!”
“I hadn’t, either,” Reborn says, “you’re supposed to be the only blood descendant of the Vongola left.”
“We’re half-siblings!”
“Ah,” Reborn says, “then, I can’t wait to meet him.”
Tsuna winds back around in horror. “What the— Reborn! I’m not joking this time, not that I was joking ever, but DO NOT recruit him into the Mafia! Please!”
Rikuo has to fight to retain his right as the successor. Gyuuki tries to kill him, Tamazuki nearly does, and he’s honestly tired.
He’s forced to openly accept his night form as a part of himself, and he officially becomes the second-in-charge of the Nura-gumi, an esteemed Youkai Yakuza clan heralding the entirety of the Kanto region of Japan. He exchanges sakazuki with those that deign to follow him, and he leads his own night parade, as Rikuo instead of simply the son of the former head. He’s very tired.
At least he figured out how to stay a youkai in the morning, even temporarily.
“Huh? A vengeful spirit in Namimori’s area?”
The report comes as a surprise. He rarely hears news from outside, but occasionally, a youkai dropping into the Nura Clan for a visit brings news as well. This time the gossip hails from the bakeneko clan, where all the seedy but reliable rumours begin.
“It seems he bears a grudge against the mafia, and is taking it out on anyone in relation to the underworld, or anyone with the strength to have the potential to be recruited into one,” Kubinashi says. “I’m concerned.”
“I guess it’s a bit of a relief that Tsunayoshi’s naturally a weakling,” Rikuo says with a guilty sigh. “He won’t be a target, right?”
Kubinashi nods, but he’s slightly unsure. “Tsunayoshi-bocchan’s only got his charisma going for him, after all. He’s the least naturally threatening creature in that town. Plus Namimori’s got the Hibari House of onmyouji with them. I’m sure they’ll be fine.”
If anything, Rikuo’s more worried about his honorary rival, Hibari Kyouya. Maybe this new vengeful youkai will be a good match to that guy, and the fun he’ll offer Hibari might just make Hibari decide not to attack him on sight next time he visits.
“What are the Italian mafia doing in Japan, anyways?” Rikuo wonders. “Do the local yakuza not mind them?”
“There are other rumours,” Kubinashi says, “like how a legendary hitman is currently in that town, trying to local the incoming successor of Vongola— that’s the strongest mafia famiglia reigning the capital of Italy right now, by the way— though no one yet knows the identity of the Tenth heir. People are saying he’s young, which is why other notable mafiosi like Smokin’ Bomb and Trident Mosquito are converging on the town right now to test his will, or something.”
There’s silence.
That situation sounds awfully familiar, and Kubinashi realizes it the second he says it all, because he just stops talking and facepalms.
Rikuo’s face goes completely pale. “Someone call Tsunayoshi. Right now!” he slams the door open. “I need answers!”
(Tsuna doesn’t pick up. Apparently he’s been in a big fight and currently sleeping off his injuries. Rikuo promptly stresses about this for a full week, nearly charging himself out of Ukiyoe at night to go find him. Karasu-Tengu stops him.)
Tsuna nearly dies a couple times. He feels like every bone in his body’s been broken at least once, but it’s closer to half, really.
He feels bad, watching Vindice drag Mukuro away because Tsuna doesn’t have the capabilities to save him. If Rikuo had been there, he could have done so much more. Tsuna lets his Hyper Dying Will emerge fully for the first time, and lets him take full control— and yet, he’s not enough to really be the leader he needs to be.
Tsuna does not want to be a leader, but a part of him will always have that strength.
Tsuna finds half a ring around his neck and desperately runs to call Rikuo, hoping to find some salvation from this hell he’s been dropped into.
“Huh? Rikuo’s not home?”
Apparently, he got into an argument with Gramps about wanting to head to Kyoto or something, so now he’s undergoing special training somewhere, or something.
He has to hang up. Something’s going on, back at Ukiyoe, but things aren’t quite looking alright here either, so he has no room to worry about others.
“Dad!” Tsuna opens the door to find his father drunk and asleep again , so he walks up to him and kicks him in the face. “You’re not escaping the questioning this time!”
“Hey, Tsu-kun!” Nana snaps, “treat your dad with some respect!”
“But Mom!”
Iemitsu laughs, warmly, and he stands up, father and son leaving the house to genuinely talk things out. Their relationship isn’t strained— just absent, by lieu of circumstances.
“We all had our secrets,” he says. “I still don’t know Rihan’s, and he up and died.”
It’s not like any of this callousness is on purpose. It’s just how it is.
“I won’t tell you,” Tsuna says, first of all.
Iemitsu laughs again. “That’s fine with me!” But his eyes are stern. “You understand, don’t you? Just as Rikuo has his duty, this is yours. It’s not something you can avoid, it’s not just about you and us anymore, it’s a much bigger picture than you can ever imagine from this little town. It's the mafia , Tsuna.”
It’s a very different world from the Yakuza.
And Tsuna was born into this world.
He had the talent, the world looking upon him with a mountain of expectations— and slowly, he was being coerced into building a family he would give his all to protect. It’s the trap of fate, and though he’s always known he was falling for it, he let himself go along.
Because it’s just like with Rikuo— they had love to give, strength to wield, and they were weak to the love of others. They just couldn’t survive without a family to hold onto, and though they try their hardest to be as many things as they could, nothing could truly tear them apart from their roots. Their destiny.
Tsuna’s eyes bleed orange.
“I don’t want to be the boss. I just want to protect my friends and family.” His resolve is simple and concise, nothing more and nothing less. “I’m meant to be the Vongola boss, Dad, but if it ever puts them in harm’s way… I won’t be prioritizing it. Just know that.”
Rikuo is a leader. Tsuna is not.
Rikuo has authority, Rikuo has strength,a nd Rikuo is the kind of commander that inspires people to follow along. Tsuna is weak, even with all this training. He is just a human. Tsuna is not the kind of person that captains with strength— Hibari’s stronger than him. Tsuna’s undying determination is the only thing that allows him to keep up with his family, who are all undeniably better fighters than himself.
But they were different people, and different families worked differently.
“That’s good enough,” Iemitsu lets his shoulders fall in understanding. “Keep going, Tsuna. One day, you’ll find the right path for yourself.”
On the Takarabune headed toward Kyoto, Rikuo watches as the Nura clan and the Toono youkai fight, Kubinashi and Itaku threatening to shred each other apart within minutes of conversing.
Zen, who definitely isn’t supposed to be on this ship, what is this fragile moron doing , shows up to quell the fight, and Rikuo sighs, wondering why people can’t get along.
“I was just thinking,” Rikuo says, on the way to them. “I haven’t seen Tsunayoshi in a while. I wonder if he’s doing well.”
Zen scoffs. “He’s doing well, definitely, out of the way from all this youkai business he has no place in.”
The Toono Youkai glance over, brows raised.
“I mean, I get that, but,” Rikuo considers this deeply, “don’t get me wrong, Zen. You’ve got a special place in my hyakki as my sworn brother, but don’t you think Tsunayoshi’ll be really mad if he finds out I swore brotherhood with you and never with him?”
“Huh? No!” Zen sneers. “That position is special for me, I ain’t sharing, not even with your literal brother!!”
“Ehhh, I didn’t know you were so petty, Zen.”
“What, Rikuo’s got a brother?” Amezo asks, “now that’s weird. Thought he was the only grandson of Nurarihyon? You tellin’ me there’s another of these pompous rich brats?”
“What happened to the other one, got disowned?” Itaku asks.
“Disowned!” says Yukari, brightly.
“He’s human,” Rikuo speaks up, annoyed at them. “You guys are sure some insensitive bastards, you know that. You haven’t even met the dude and you’re cursing him with all sorts of dumb talk.”
“It’s just what Youkai do,” Awashima chuckles. “But he’s fully human? How does that work?”
“You sure he’s your brother? Is he adopted?”
“Oh shut it, all of you,” Rikuo hisses. “I’ll have you know, you rude bastards, it’s one thing to offend me in this household in front of my servants,” he warns. “But if you even dare to offend Tsunayoshi anywhere in this town, you’ll have the entire Kanto region after your head at once and I won’t be able to stop them!”
That gets the Toono Youkai balking. “What?! So he’s just another spoiled brat?!”
“No,” Zen says, morosely. And seeing as he was the one to stop the last fight on the same topic, he knows best. He actually looks sick just thinking about it. “He’s just… a very special case. We’re actually kind of lucky he’s not youkai.”
“What does that even mean?!”
Rikuo laughs.
Youkai lead their parades with Fear. It’s in their nature, because they live to strike fear in people’s hearts. Humans, however, lead their families with Love. It’s in their nature, and even weakly, they bring out the best in each other with warm acceptance.
It’s a quality Rikuo aspires to live up to one day.
“Unpleasant.”
Tsuna straightens nervously when Hibari approaches him after the ring battle. He holds his breath as Hibari chucks the ring at him, spitting up blood from the barely-healed poison before trudging away.
“...he’s very mad,” Tsuna says, like that’s not obvious.
“Congratulations, you’re officially the heir,” Reborn says, rubbing salt into the still-open wound that was the truth of Xanxus’ heritage. Tsuna wants to commit infanticide.
“You, herbivore,” Hibari sneers, pointing a blood-stained tonfa at Tsuna, earning a squeak. “Extend your apology appropriately. This has gone on for long enough.”
And then he stomps away, done for the damn year with all this bullshit.
Dino raises a shaky thumbs up. “He’s too tired to kill you because he spent like, a straight week fighting me. You’re welcome, bro.”
“Dino-san,” Tsuna says, with all the love in his heart, “he’ll be back tomorrow. You better run to Italy before he recovers or you’ll never get any rest ever . I’m speaking this from experience, so please listen to me.”
Tsuna collapses after that, sleeping into the daylight and into the afternoon before he’s forced awake by his conscience.
Then he trudges up Namimori Hill aching and hurting all over.
“Tenth!” Gokudera’s found him. “What a coincidence! I’d seriously thought you were still resting today!”
“...Gokudera-kun, you should be resting,” he says, exasperated. “I mean… you were blown up. Like a dozen times.”
“Don’t worry! If I let getting blown up stop me, I wouldn’t be Smokin’ Bomb Hayato!”
“That is the exact opposite of assuring, thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Tenth!” he says, brightly, and Tsuna can’t bear to retort to that. “So, where are you headed? Allow me to accompany you!”
Tsuna smiles at that.
Hiking the mountain road up to Namimori Shrine is a lot less lonely with Hayato around. Hayato isn’t too familiar with the Shinto customs, so Tsuna leads him through it, teaching him the right way to give an offering and pray.
“We caused a lot of trouble here this month, with the Ring Conflict and all,” Tsuna says, “It’s the least we can do to apologize for the disruption.”
Gokudera frowns. They were fixing it up, so he didn’t see the point. They didn’t owe this land deity anything.
“Do you not believe in ayakashi, Gokudera-kun?” Tsuna asks.
Gokudera frowns, “Not so much. Incorporeal things like ghosts and spirits are products of human fears. Horror stories, haunted mansions… they’re not as interesting to me.”
“Are youkai not Unidentified Mysterious Animals?”
“No. I’m interested in aliens, and unique evolutions… things that have a place in science,” Gokudera says. “If it’s not science then there must be another explanation.”
Mukuro, for example, was a product of Dying Will Flames, as far as the mafiosi were concerned.
That was fair. People didn’t need to know of the other plane of reality more than necessary.
“Gokudera-kun,” Tsuna asks, reaching into his shirt to find the ring. “It seems i”m the heir now… but I don’t really know how the Mafia works. Will you teach me?”
Gokudera pauses, surprised. “Wh- What? Wait, you just asked me– did I hear that right— Tenth, did you just ask me to teach you about the mafia?!”
They look around frantically, but Reborn’s nowhere to be seen. That’s rare, but that’s probably because he’s got duties to settle in the wake of the Ring Conflict.
Right now, it's just Tsuna and Gokudera. Gokudera is flattered— so overjoyed to be finally sought of for genuine, mafia-related help byt the one man he’s dedicating his life to— and he can’t believe it at all.
Tsuna smiles, heart lighting up with a mischief he hasn’t felt much since living in Namimori. “Hey, Gokudera. Do the Mafia exchange sakazuki too, or is that just the yakuza?”
He holds up his hand in the motion of holding a little sake cup.
“Hibari-san’s not in the shrine today, so if you’re up for it, now’s probably our only chance to do it,” he says, chuckling. “You know, since we’re underage and all.”
Kyoto is in jeopardy. The Nura clan suffers a devastating loss against Tsuchigumo, and Rikuo is completely at his mercy. He’s beaten within an inch of his life.
It’s somewhere between these moments that Rikuo’s head burns with a fire that isn’t hot. He gets up, again and again, no matter how many times he’s smashed down. If he had been human, he would’ve died, many times over.
But he isn’t, and that’s why this is happening to him.
He rises, even when daylight rises and his form dissipates into day, and he forces it back into night, just a little longer.
“Don’t touch my night parade,” he hisses. “Don’t you dare hurt them.”
And that's the only thing that keeps him going. His eyes, human and brown, burn with the will of a fire he has never learned to wield.
He doesn’t win. But when he’s weakened and on his knees, barely held up by his sword— Tsuchigumo will look upon his fists, and wonder why his skin cracked and his nails crumbled at the edges, dusty as stone.
Tsuchigumo takes Tsurara hostage, and there was nothing they could do. Gyuuki trains Rikuo in the art of Matoi, and Zen spreads his wings for the first time in Rikuo’s presence.
Zen sighs, bandaging Rikuo’s arm once more before they left for Nijou Castle, where the final battle lay.
“Stop it, you little shit,” Zen sneers, slapping him in the wrist, earning a hiss as he jostles Rikuo’s still-tender wounds. “Calm down. Breathe slowly, you’re already safe. You have to let your dying will rest, or you’ll never heal.”
Rikuo blinks at that, surprised. “...what are you talking about?”
Zen raises a brow. The Dying Will Flames were a human-only power, since it’s based upon a mortality-centered resolve only the living could be bound by. Zen learned of them and the risks because of Tsuna’s old constitution, but he didn’t know well enough to explain, nor understand how Rikuo awakened them.
(And when he glances toward Gyuuki, he didn’t know either.)
“Ask your twin when you see him,” he says instead. “But for now, if these bandages crumble, I am not fixing you up anymore. Die for all I care, you waste of bandages!”
Tsunayoshi finds himself about ten years in the future, when everything’s gone to shit and apparently, most of everyone’s families are dead.
“Hibari-san,” he asks the adult Hibari, in the middle of training one day, “do you know where my brother is?”
“...no,” Hibari says, “no one does.”
Tsuna gets up immediately. “Why?”
There’s no way Hibari wouldn’t know of the Supreme Commander of the largest youkai yakuza clan in the country.
“I’m sure they’re thriving,” Hibari says. “But Nura Rikuo hasn’t been living as a human in years. He no longer allows himself to be found.”
Tsuna’s heart sinks right down into his gut. “Is it Byakuran’s fault?”
Hibari averts his gaze.
In this world, it is.
Byakuran is like Mukuro— demonic, yet not quite. He is borne of desires, riddled with something akin to spiritual power. He thrives on the fear he brings upon worlds. And yet, they are still human in some cursed way. They are both undeniably human at least in body alone, clinging upon the edge of sanity, half a step away from becoming an evil spirit. One wrong step, and they would fall forever.
That’s how most youkai are born, (Aotabo and Kubinashi being two of this exact sort,) so Tsunayoshi isn’t surprised to see them that way.
Tsuna stands up, eyes burning amber.
Hibari straightens. “We are continuing,” he says, a question but toned like a statement.
Tsuna nods, a subtle sway of the head. The flame burns upon his head without any prompt, his will burning through with something akin to rage, something akin to unbridled fury. There is genuine murderous intent in those eyes.
Tsuna turns to him. “I need to get stronger, Hibari,” he’s not using the honorific, and that surprises Hibari most of all. Rikuo tended to do that too, in his night form. “I want to become stronger. For real, this time.”
Hibari steps back, mildly fascinated.
The dark aura he emanated— it sent shivers spiraling through Hibari’s senses, even though Hibari wasn’t one to be intimidated. And though he held his tonfa with confidence, he knew his next strike wouldn’t meet its target.
“...You are that man’s brother after all,” Hibari says. “This will be interesting.”
Hagoromo Gitsune dies, and Rikuo is devastated to learn the truth. Seimei has been born, and though he momentarily returns to hell, the reprieve won’t last long.
Rikuo needs strength, if he wants to avenge. He needs power, if he wants to become someone that can stand against the Nue.
“I’ll never, ever, forgive Seimei,” Rikuo declares.
“You’re planning on fighting him on your own?” his grandfather asks.
Rikuo scoffs. “I’ll become the Third Head,” he turns aside, sheathing the broken Nenekirimaru and turning toward the daylight. “Don’t stop me, Gramps.”
The next day, before the clan heads, Nura Rikuo sits on his knees. Their mofuku prim and formal on every figure in the room, the sakazuki of succession is exchanged. Rikuo makes his declaration, and the clan accepts him.
Nura Rikuo becomes the Third Commander of the Night Parade of a Hundred Demons.
The months succeeding the Kyoto battle are busy. The Nura clan amasses their power, and Rikuo catches no breaks. He turns thirteen sometimes between that, but he has no time to visit his twin and celebrate their birthdays.
He misses him dearly.
But he knows that even though they’re apart, they’re one and together. They’re twins, after all. They’ll always understand each other.
“So much’s happened,” Rikuo sighs, leaning against the sakura tree in the Nura house, looking toward the moon. “I can’t wait to tell Tsunayoshi all about everything.”
There’s a similar tree in the Sawada family backyard.
He wonders if it’s fully grown yet.