Chapter Text
Wishbones and Cracked Skulls
Chapter 01: It’s not always in the right color
Renato watched closely as an innocuous bottle of shampoo was handed out to him from a calloused hand with fraying manicured fingers and its chipped black nail polish. The shampoo was his favored brand, something not overly pricy as everyone would have not expected from a man with a reputation for valuing his appearance.
(That particular brand gets the job done in managing his finicky hair texture and type, in addition to the scent that is just the right amount of minty smoke to be appealing while not hindering his job with leaving scent marks.)
As for why Renato is eyeing the innocent bottle suspiciously, it was because it was being handed to him by the resident civilian from their group of elites. Skull, the anomaly in their gathered assembly, is a vision of teenage emo punk with his bright purple to orange hair, amethyst eyes, dark makeup, piercings and biker get up. Not until a certain incident, the lot of them, except for Luce, were baffled by the choice of adding a civilian stuntman in forming a group meant for the Underground World’s Greatest Elite.
And he is enlisted as the strongest Cloud, mind you.
As far as clouds go, Skull is an anomaly, but how would they know? There’s not much Clouds roaming in the underworld, but typically they are nothing what Skull is.
Fearful, whiny, happy-go-lucky, naïve and far too smiley (too kind, too warm and too emotional for their side of business) for someone who’s flame stereotype are to be aloof and cagey and territorial.
But due to his lack of any impressive skills other than his death-defying stunt driving, Renato and the others had chalked it all up to his civilianess for the lack of a better word and trouble to try and understand him.
Though after a certain mission that is now labeled as the Cathartic Incident, Renato and the others – even Luce who knew everything about them except for Skull – was surprised that within the cowardly whiny brat was a terrifyingly skilled swordsman.
(They were surrounded, not a lot of ammos to spare for Renato, Colonello and Lal, Verde’s robots and other trinkets spazzing out after a vicious – dead – storm user let hundreds of storm needles rain, Fon had a broken forearm from a lucky – dead – lightning who got a hit in and all of them accounted for are slowly entering flame exhaustion from all the enemies coming out of the woodwork.
(Skull was passed out, having been hit by a deadly little poison after – stupidly, unselfishly – covering for Viper and Fon. He’s fine – thank God, he might be an idiot, but he’s their idiot – after the combine efforts of Fon, Renato, Verde and Viper. Fon burning away the poison, Renato rejuvenating the rapidly dying cells, Verde erecting a barrier of pure lightning and Viper distracting any enemies coming close. Lal Mirch and Colonello roared in fury, wreaking havoc to the famiglia that dared to hurt one of their own.)
It was all hopeless, and one of the bastards managed to get close to Skull where they had tucked him away for safety. They won’t make it, some asshole most likely set them up to move away from their Idiot little by little, and now they’re too surrounded to make a move to protect him.
Their flames flared in the same tune of desperation. Exhaustion forgotten for keeping their youngest safe. Right in his ribcage, Renato felt the jolt of true fear that he thought he would never feel again.
The feeling is as awful as he remembered it to be.
“Don’t you dare!” Fon roars, flinging a shmuck to the side with a swipe of his none broken forearm.
Most of them are moving rapidly, with nary a care to what happened to the mobs that posed as an obstacle to their goal.
But then, something unbelievable happened.
Right as the bastard was about to go for the kill, all of a sudden, the arm holding the bastard’s katana was severed quicker than anyone could blink. And within one moment, after the loss caught up to bastard’s brain, he started rolling on the ground, crying about his missing arm.
Skull stood, silent unlike himself, holding a katana with his right hand and a small bloody pocket knife with his left.
It was a chilling image to see, the ever smiling bright Skull to be blank and still. A curious thing to add is his eyes were closed the whole time, his aura entirely different from what they’re used to.
Predatorial and solemn, nothing like the reassuring warmth and gentleness that is inherent to their resident strange Cloud.
Everyone stilled, watching the spectacle with bated breath and adrenaline’s high. The whole battlefield was oddly quiet, like a sailor at sea waiting for the terrible storm that he knew that would come to end him.
While the rest were distracted, the seven of them didn’t let up from advancing towards Skull.
Curiously, Skull settles to a stance, knife gone and katana back to its sheath now on his left hip. Bending down, he moves his right feet back with his left knee supporting most of the weight, the smell of vapor and ozone becoming rich in the air. Renato heard the roar of thunder and a whistle of breath before purple flames danced in an arch around him like live lightning laced with Gods be damned bright sunset orange.
Oh. Renato stared at the trail of purple and orange. So that’s why.
It was the only warning that the witless famiglia had.
“Storm Breathing, First Form: Thunderstruck; Eighteenfold.”)
Renato could still remember the taste of Skull’s unleashed flames, dense and pure, nearly suffocating for its large amount crowding the air with its intense encompassing nature. But the unmistakable protectiveness, home, warmth, faith and love settled deeply through their bones like a reassuring embrace.
In all their exhausted state, clarity bloomed and all the signs started to align into one conclusive picture.
Skull is a fucking Cloudy Sky and they’ve been blind to it the whole time.
(And it didn’t take them a long time to accept the fact that they were his and not Luce. The moment Renato accepted this, is the moment the doubt in his ribcage vanished. He is not an afterthought after all, and Luce should really start minding her own Guardians and not try poaching them like a pet collection. Renato would not admit even at the threat of death, that he enjoys Skull’s company. And who cares if he is taking advantage of Skull’s generous and caring nature, if anyone is to blame it’s the punk, he makes it easier to exploit him.)
It was glorious.
Some of the witless fucktards fainted after Skull made his first move, not surprising, since nothing more was terrifying than a Cloud on a rampage. Some tried to ran away in a bid for survival, those they had dutifully dealt with as the stuntman zoomed across the battlefield like lightning personified, cutting down whoever is in his way while wreathed in so much purple and orange that it seemed like his own hair was set on fire.
And it probably was.
(They didn’t leave until every single one of the rivalling famiglia were all unalive. The news of another strong Sky in the I Prescelti Sette would surely travel fast if they let some rats go. All they can do now is to delay that news from being delivered early. Or if they have any say in it, nobody alive, aside from them, needs to know. Viper themselves would control the information if needed be even for free in Skull’s part, after all, out of anyone in their group, Skull is Viper’s favorite and now also their oblivious Sky. Viper is nothing but greed personified.)
But now at present time, the terrifying monster in human skin was now giving one of his hopeful – insecure – smile while handing out Renato’s favorite brand of shampoo. His ridiculous – endearing – hair windswept from a bike ride, the ends of it, now a bright orange, sticking up in every direction possible. The sudden hair color change is attributed to Skull’s flame outburst, apparently, the orange tips were as natural as his purple hair, and he dyes it ever so often to keep it all purple, from what they got out from him after an interro—a friendly banter, his hair used to be dark brown but then one day he woke up with it being purple and orange after a near death situation.
It was all frankly ridiculous.
“Ren?” Renato ignored the warmth that came from his chest that spread throughout his body after hearing the nickname. Ridiculous. He is being ridiculous. “Is there something wro-wrong? Did I, did I get the wrong one?”
The small hand faltered, he could feel more than see the five burning stares suddenly on his person, but he is Renato, the World Greatest Hitman, he ignored it with the finesse of a suave professional.
Slowly, he reached out for the bottle. “Thanks Lackey, just what I needed.”
If his hand lingered longer than necessary, then that’s them and their envy talking. In those few seconds, Renato relished the feel of Skull’s calloused dainty hand, it is all pianist fingers and delicious warmth, pale in contrast to his sunkissed skin.
(They never truly addressed it, but everyone knows that Skull is biologically female. Viper was the first one to know given their expertise, then Lal from her intuition and observation. Verde, because as much as he is a mad scientist, he is also the team doctor. Fon came to know it after a sparring session where he had deduced it based on Skull’s muscle mass and usual gait. Himself from observation and putting together his suspicion and background checks, it didn’t help that Skull is too much of a pretty boy. And finally, Colonello because the bastard accidentally touched oblivious Skull. Renato doesn’t know about Luce, but he has a strong suspicion that the Giglio Nero doesn’t know despite the odds that she should. They never really cared to address it, Skull’s sexuality or gender is his own business, plus he never corrected them with the pronouns, so they continued to refer to him as such.)
When the burning stares turned into lasers, Renato retreated his hand, but before he could fully do so, Skull clamped his fingers over Renato’s, giving the most mesmerizing smile that he had ever seen in his entire life. And it came out of nowhere.
Fuck.
“You’re welcome Ren, I’m happy to help!”
It was like witnessing the sunrise for the first time, naturally beautiful and enchanting, warm with happiness and genuine care. No expectation hidden in his amethyst eyes that glittered amber. Nothing more but honest affection.
Nobody had ever looked at him like that, it was nothing like the lust that filled his newest conquest’s eyes, nothing like the coveting eyes of a weak greedy Sky, nothing like the fond look in Luce’s eyes that he now knew as someone would give a talented pet.
It was new and true, that someone like him, a murderer, a cold, dirty, apathetic creature shouldn’t deserve.
It’s more than he deserves.
Yet Skull hands it out freely with no restraint, to Renato, to people like them, even when he had been a complete ass towards the stuntman for the first couple of months, Skull had been quick to forgive his actions when Renato did a genuine apology.
(It was hard to lie to Skull, it’s either you’d feel bad with the disappointed face he gives or somehow, in someway, he knew how to see through bullshit, poker face and lying skills be damned, he just knew. That’s why he is always victorious at poker nights, not even Viper or the ever calm two-faced Fon could get pass with cheating to him. But all they soon learned that tricking Skull was a no-go no matter what strategy they use so they just turned on each other. So far, Colonello is the greatest sucker.)
Skull just made it easy for them to take advantage of his civilian sensibilities, his naivety and soft heartedness, lie detecting notwithstanding. It took a while to ease out any suspicions towards Skull’s goody-goody behavior, trying so hard to understand them, but even after months he had never changed.
(Except for that one-time Renato had mocked Skull’s family from the circus. He can admit that it was a very asshole move, and Renato did it to see if he could finally get any other reaction from Skull other than shrieking. He established that Skull would never truly defend himself, accepting it all as his faults with a self-deprecating smile, another can of worms that he’s not going to open unless he felt like going on a rampage. With that said, when Skull’s family is involved, it is a whole new conversation. Renato’s lungs would have been pierced by his cracked ribs if he hadn’t augmented his ribcage at the last second and for one painful month, Skull ignored his whole existence until he apologized. To say the least, he would not be repeating that, and everyone is using him as an example.)
Renato is a shameless greedy man, and he would take and take more if he could, and Skull is a temptation provider, he gives what he promised and more. Promises of love, warmth, family, faith and home under his vast accepting sky, Skull makes it hard not to want to possess him, and Renato bets his whole Armani collection that the others wanted to do the same.
But there’s one thing though, Skull is also a Cloud as much as he is a Sky. An element not meant to be chained down by anyone and free to drift as they pleased. When Luce had tried to do just that, the resulting back clash left the woman scorched as Skull subconsciously lashes out from the offending flame. The visible result of it was Skull, being irritable and cagey for a whole day not until he went for a ride to cool off.
Something warm curled under his ribcage, purring and delighted. In his peripherals, he saw how everyone visibly relaxed as the passive sky flames washed over them in waves, and Renato with his proximity from its source, feeling a little more than flame drunk.
Deciding that he should retreat before he could do something that would ruin his image, Renato forces his fedora down on Skull’s hair and makes a tactical retreat.
“Stop smiling like that Lackey, I’m going to take a shower and you take care of that.”
The silent ‘or else’ is heavily implied, but Skull just happily replied, “O-Okay! I’ll take care of it!”
Now, he’ll just have to take a long cool shower to remove any semblance of warmth in his body then maybe, he could offer to bake a dessert for Skull as thank you.
But of course, that’s before he does target practice with a moving object, Colonello volunteered on this one for openly laughing at him.