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Chapter Text

Sawada Tsunayoshi opened his eyes and already knew that he was in grave danger. It said a lot about his life that he noticed he was an infant only after that. 

He was supposed to be dead. In fact he was pretty sure he was dead. And it was a good one too. He had died in a way most mafia men won’t even get to dream of. Old and content. 

Surrounded by the descendents of his Guardians and his hand held by Xanxus’ son, his chosen successor and Vongola Undici, he had passed away peacefully, the last of his generation, and very happy to go. 

But it seemed that while he was done with life, life was not done with him. There was no other way to explain the obvious reincarnation thing going on. Or was it transmigration, with him taking over the body of this baby? 

His intuition promptly told him that it was both. 

Unhelpful. Shit. Maybe he should've paid more attention to those villainess mangas and manhuas Lambo kept reading after all. 

A general feeling of ‘wait and see’ filled his head at that. 

Well, there was nothing much he could do as a literal baby other than waiting around so that much was doable. 

But babies had terrible eyesight so the seeing thing was going to be a bit harder to achieve. Terrible ability to focus too. While he was thankful his mind wasn’t reduced to that of an infant's, the body and brain were still very much baby. The spirit was willing but the flesh was weak and all that jazz.

However this was all nothing a little Flame couldn’t handle. In his longer than expected life Tsuna had learned to do all kinds of things with his Flames, from the most brutal to the most delicate of operations. Using Flames to augment his body was nothing special. Or it wouldn’t have been, if he hadn’t been a baby with a nonexistent focusing ability. He had a cheat code though. 

Hyper Intuition. Used to drive his opponents mad. Heh. 

Assisted by it, Tsuna reached into his Flame core, which now that he was actively focusing, was currently at least two degrees separated from his body, somewhat floating in his soulscape, tethered by what looked like strings of glass, each of them reflecting the flaring light of his Flames, instead of blazing like the sun in the center as it usually was. 

This was a good thing, Tsuna realised immediately, because there was no way an infant’s body could have survived that much power. It would’ve been incinerated from the inside out. Not fun for the baby, or anyone else. He should’ve done a check like this the moment he understood his situation, and Reborn would’ve killed him for such a stupid mistake, but in his defence, he was a) dead?, and b) a baby, somehow. 

It seemed that his Flames had subconsciously adjusted themselves and found a way to adapt to this new body. Now wasn’t that a stroke of luck?

Carefully, he syphoned the smallest amount of Flame he could manage, and directed it towards his ocular and neural pathways, augmenting them gently, taking care not to damage them. His senses sharpened, coming into focus gradually, and he could now concentrate, and as a bonus, seemed to have achieved the all powerful faculty of object permanence. Good, the conflicting perceptions between mind and body were getting really annoying.

Finally the blurriness of his vision receded and he eagerly looked and saw…a ceiling. Right. He was a baby. A baby laying on its back and can't even roll over on its own. What did he expect really?

This was certainly not ideal.  

Nonetheless he did get some information. The ceiling was wooden and he has been in enough of Kyoya’s buildings that he recognised the style for what it was, traditional Japanese. And as he could fortunately turn his head to the sides, he could see that he was lying in a wooden crib, but it was obviously, very glaringly, European in make. Interesting dichotomy. 

Also he was way too young a baby. He should, by all accounts, still be in the hospital. What was he doing in a house, alone in the room at that? 

A sigh that was too comically weary for his current form left his lips. There was no way for him to know. Unless he spontaneously developed the ability to stand up and walk, that was all the information he could gather for now. He had a sneaky suspicion that he was a baby that couldn’t even hold its own head up right. 

His intuition cheerfully chimed in with a yes. 

Fantastic. 

He was contemplating whether or not he should channel a bit more Flame through his body, the pros being the ability to kinda float up, like a horror movie baby, and get a better look around, the cons being incinerating himself, when he heard the distinct sound of a shoji door opening, followed by soft footsteps approaching sedately. But for some reason the pace felt more like a forced calm than what was natural.

He tried to act like a proper baby when the presence drew close. And considering he spent most of his teenage years with that absolute troll Reborn who pulled the innocent baby act all the time, Tsuna knew a thing or two about being a proper baby. Though he wished he didn't. 

Mentally shaking his head to get rid of distractions, he focused on the present. Out of the corner of his eye he could see a vague outline of a person approaching the crib. And soon they were standing right next to it and peeking over the edge. 

It was a woman. On the older side. Tall. 

She peered at him over the crib and seemed very surprised about something. Almost awed. Why though?

She was clothed impeccably, in a beautiful dark green kimono, the kind Tsuna bought for his mother regularly, and her grey hair was in a bun so severe that it made Tsuna wince internally. An elegant, statuesque woman, who was most likely the matriarch of this house. 

Something about her was awfully familiar. He was sure he had never met this woman before. Her face and demeanour were distinct enough that no-one who met her was ever likely to forget her even without a good memory. And Tsuna had an excellent one, especially for faces. Reborn had made sure of that. It was an important skill for a mafia boss to have after all.

He really hoped whatever happens would shed some more light on his situation.

The woman reached over and picked him up from the crib. Her grip was firm and experienced, and contrary to what people would expect from her stern countenance, she handled him with a soft, gentle care, for which he was thankful.

“You gave everyone quite a fright, little one. What a mischievous child you are!”, she said, her eyes crinkling happily as she adjusted him in her hold. 

Despite her playful tone, her voice itself was unexpectedly brittle, like she had cried quite a lot. A closer look as he laid in her hands allowed him to see the lingering puffiness of her eyes. Once again, he wondered just who he was, and what had happened in this house.

"Let's get you some fresh air shall we?" 

The woman carried him over to an open window, which overlooked an outdoor garden of sorts, the most prominent occupant of the space being a ludicrously large tree. Tsuna had seen a lot of trees but this one was truly ridiculous. Momentarily baffled by the sheer size of the thing it took him a few seconds to notice something very important. 

There was a thick, coiled rope around the trunk of the tree, with zig-zag shaped paper streamers hanging from the rope. 

Now Tsuna has lived more of his life in Italy than he had ever lived in Japan but he wasn’t so removed from his culture that he couldn’t recognise that for what it was, especially as he had made it a point to visit his mother every new year for hatsumōde.

A Shimenawa. 

This abnormally large tree was a Sakaki.

This wasn't a house. This was a shrine. 

The realisation answered absolutely nothing and brought up even more questions.

"You're quite a calm baby for all the chaos you caused coming into this world. Troubling your mother so. I can already feel that you're going to be a handful growing up", the woman said, her voice fond and her eyes going soft. 

Her words took on a more wondering air. "But today you seem to have more life in you. Usually you just lay there like a lazy little cub, worrying everyone. I'm glad my little baby finally decided to wake up and join the rest of us, hmmmm?"

Tsuna didn't need his intuition to be reasonably sure that this woman was his grandmother in this life. A great aunt at the very least. And apparently his birth was quite a harrying experience for the household. That would explain the glaring absence of the mother around her newborn. She was probably still recovering. Still it was a rather large negligence on their part to leave a baby alone like that, especially if the birth was complicated. What if the baby wasn't a transmigrated+reincarnated mafia boss and just a normal baby with possible health issues? Huh? What then? 

It seemed his brand new grandmother agreed with him because a frown decorated her face as she turned from the window and surveyed the room. 

"But what were you doing alone? Where is your father?", she asked, her eyes growing frosty.

'How should I know?', Tsuna thought wryly. 'I just got here myself'. 

But some things never changed. It seemed he was always destined to have a negligent father. Cold comfort and all that.

The thought hardly passed through his mind when the alarm bells in his head, the very ones that had woken him up and were consistently ringing in the background all this time, suddenly decided to assert themselves once again. 

Pain. Pain and disorienting ringing.

Involuntarily, Tsuna let out a wail as his baby body just couldn't handle the blaring internal noise or understand the danger that it's instincts were insisting was real. 

He could barely hear his grandmother attempting to soothe him with soft words, rocking him back and forth gently while walking to and fro across the room. He tried to concentrate on her voice, on the rocking motions, in an attempt to drown out the noise to the background once again, but sure that there was no way it was happening till he dealt with whatever the threat was. 

So it put him off balance when the noise abruptly stopped. His entire being focused on the door. 

Tsuna had been a mafia boss. He knew to dread silence. He knew to trust his instincts. And he knew that whoever walks in through that door would be a threat to him.  

The door slid open. And Sawada Iemitsu walked in. 

He was right. 

And because he was so focused on the man, Tsuna saw the flash of cold calculation that flit through his eyes, quickly covered up by his usual goofy grin. 

Still Mafia then. 

"Okaasan! I thought you were with Nana!", the man who was unfortunately his father even in this new life remarked, one hand behind his head and a silly smile on his face. 

His grandmother pursed her lips in displeasure. "Nana is asleep. So I came to see my grandchild". 

It was obvious there was no love lost between her and her son-in-law. 

That in itself was enough for Tsuna to trust the woman indubitably. Anyone who didn't tolerate Iemitsu's bullshit was okay in his book. 

But that wasn't the most important part. Nana was still his mother! His parents were the same! So he was most likely still Sawada Tsunayoshi!

Also, Tsuna could now remember why the woman was so familiar. Iemitsu had addressed her as Okaasan, which meant she was his mother-in-law, Nana's mother. 

When he had become Vongola Decimo there was no more need to keep Primo's lineage a secret and the Family archivists had worked themselves into a tizzy, recording every scrap of information they could find on his family history. But being Vongola they were only concerned with his paternal family. So while he knew a lot about his paternal grandparents, Sawada Ietsuna, and Miya Akiko, he knew next to nothing about his maternal family and his mother was never inclined to share. But there was this one time, when he visited his mother for the New Year's First Shrine Visit as usual, when she had produced an old album and pointed out a faded photo of her parents. It was then he came to know that his maternal family's surname had also been Sawada, that they had been living in Namimori for generations, even before Giotto arrived, that his maternal grandfather had married into his maternal family, and that his grandparents' names were Sawada Musashi and Hibari Kojirō.

That had almost given him a heart attack. Kyoya certainly hadn't known and had sort of blue screened. Hayato had choked on his breakfast and almost died. Lambo had pointed out the historical significance of the names. Takeshi had pointed out Pokemon. You'd expect it to be the other way around with Lambo being a teenager and an Italian and Takeshi being an actual swordsman descended from the Samurai but Tsuna wasn't the least surprised. Mukuro had just kfufufud as usual and Chrome congratulated him on finding more family. Honestly she was the only reliable one in the family. 

The face of the woman in that old picture was the same one as the woman who held him now. This was actually his grandmother. It looked like he had retained his entire previous family in this life as well. He could've done without Iemitsu though. Her presence also meant that this probably wasn't time-travel, well not just time-travel, but also dimension travel.

Despite the situation Tsuna couldn't help but stare in awe at her. For the first time since waking up he was grateful that he was a baby because he was mostly ignored by the adults in the room and his decidedly unbabylike behaviour went unnoticed. But then again staring at things was most definitely baby behaviour so he might not have blown his cover just yet. 

This explained a lot of things. Like why he was in a shrine for instance. The Sawada family, that is, his maternal family, were apparently a family of Shintō priests. So it would make sense that they lived in a shrine. It seemed his mother was being taken care of by his grandmother at their residence after a difficult pregnancy. That made sense as well, considering Iemitsu was never home. 

But some other things didn't make much sense at all. Sawada Musashi and Hibari Kojirō were definitely not alive when he was born last time around. While the jury was still out on his grandfather, his grandmother at least was very much alive in this world. The shrine was still standing as well. Plus Tsuna's birth wasn't complicated at all last time around.

In his previous world there had been an earthquake in Namimori that decimated the shrine and killed all its occupants when his mother was still in high school. She only survived because she had been on a school trip to Kyoto. After that Nana had been taken in by an elderly relative who unfortunately also passed away by the time she graduated. But this relative had made sure to introduce Nana to the other Sawada family in town, his father's family. 

According to Giotto, the Sawada family were the actual bearers of the name in Namimori and they had granted him the use of their name after his Rain Guardian, a member of a noble priestly family himself, had vouched for his character and he had proved his resolve and honour to the family elders.

That was how Sawada Nana met Sawada Iemitsu and the rest, as they say, was history. 

Her family history and trauma certainly played a huge part in how fast she got married to him and their entire matrimonial dynamic that's for sure. 

And while a shrine had been built on the remnants of the collapsed hill on which the Sawada family shrine had once stood, Nana had been too young to take up responsibility and later as an adult, showed no interest in keeping the family tradition alive. So the new shrine had passed into other hands and Tsuna grew up not knowing any of this well into his adulthood. 

And now he was quite literally being held by a part of that history. It was surreal. 

He was brought out of his thoughts by his grandmother tightening her grip on him. She was careful not to hurt him as well. It was almost as if she was keeping him away from Iemitsu. Gold Star Grandma! Gold Star! 

Jokes aside, the tension had certainly risen in the room when he was sorting through the new information. Grandmother's eyes were flinty as she looked at his father.

"Iemitsu" she said, voice shaking in an effort to reign in her anger, "Nana had gone into labour unexpectedly, so I did not begrudge you for not being here. But it has been close to three days since you have arrived and you haven't paid an iota of attention to your son. And when I was finally convinced by my daughter to give you a chance, I found my infant grandson alone in the room. What is the meaning of this?"

Oh Tsuna knew how this was going to go. Iemitsu was going to laugh like an idiot, and make it all seem trivial. And then he would try to deflect the issue and make it seem as if the other person was making a deal out of a small problem. The man could deliver the most detailed CEDEF reports when he wanted to but if asked to take responsibility in his personal life he would run away like a coward. 

And right on cue, the man laughed like nothing was wrong and proceeded to do everything that Tsuna predicted he would do, exactly in that order. 

"Come on Okaasan! I just stepped outside to take a call. It was important! And the little tuna-fish was sleeping like a log! I didn't want to disturb him. And I was right outside too! Nothing was going to happen. Loosen up a bit! You'll get more wrinkles if you frown like that!"

Tsuna could feel his grandmother's frustration rising with every word out of his father's mouth. He couldn't blame her. He was feeling the same thing. It's a hazard specific to dealing with Iemitsu. He tamped down on the feeling however, because as it was, any agitation he might feel would be expressed exclusively in wailing and he didn't want the attention on himself at the moment. 

"You were not right outside. You were pacing in the courtyard. I had to send a servant to fetch you. You also left the window open. This is not a laughing matter Iemitsu! This is negligence on your part!"

If Tsuna could've, he would've been nodding furiously. But his mind was on overdrive trying to puzzle out his circumstances with his father.

His intuition had warned him that Iemitsu was a danger to him. The man probably came into the room while he was asleep and that was probably what woke him up in the first place. But in what way? What could have happened? He needed more information and it's easier if he remained quiet. Let the data come to him as Spanner used to say. 

Iemitsu laughed nervously at his mother-in-law's accusations and turned to look at him.

Sigh. Just his luck really. Right when he wanted everyone in the room to forget about him so that he can figure out just how his father is going to be a danger to him, the man's attention turned to him. Of course it did. 

The man leaned down till he was Tsuna's level, face unusually serious, and then… started making stupid faces and annoying sounds and just overall acting like a fool. 

Tsuna felt like burning his eyebrow off. 

He also felt tears gather in his eyes as his baby senses were overwhelmed by all the noise. Damn this body. Damn this buffoon. Maybe he should hurl on his face and call it a day. 

Iemitsu was of course happily continuing with his clown act completely ignoring both his mother-in-law's and his baby's rapidly darkening faces. 

"Tuna-fishie! You're so cyuuuute! Look at you! So adorable! I just held you and you fell right asleep! You're a very special baby aren't you?"

And right there, right then, his intuition which had been coiled at the back of his mind after its earlier screaming fit, lunged forward with a damning chime.

That last sentence…there was something off about it. The tone...it was strange. It was as if it was said by someone else. Not Iemitsu. 

Realisation came like thunder. 

It was not said by silly, goofy, Iemitsu. 

That was said by Vongola's Young Lion, Head of the Consulenza Esterna Della Famiglia. The Consigliere to Vongola Nono. 

And Tsuna paled.

Dying Will Flames were affected by the physical condition of the user, yes. But the vast domain of the Flames came under the authority of the soul. Case in point, Tsuna himself. He was in the body of a baby but his Flame core was unchanged. Or a better example would be the Arcobaleno. Their bodies were reduced to that of infants but their flame cores had remained hadn't been reduced to the same infantile state. 

If Tsuna's soul had been present in this infant body since birth, having woken up truly only now, and his father had held him, then no matter how separated from the centre the Flame core had been in order to adapt to the new body, Iemitsu, who was a Sky, would've sensed an active Flame core in him. A Sky Flame core. 

Babies born with active Flame cores were rare. Skies were even rarer. A baby born with an active Sky Flame core? Impossible. 

If Tsuna was unlucky enough, which was most likely the case, then things at Vongola had remained the same as last time, which is to say, on the verge of disastrous conflict. There was a period of time right around when Tsuna was born in his previous world where Enrico's heirship was widely questioned by the majority of Vongola's different factions because of his inability to gather a full set of Guardians despite years of trying. Just around the time when criticism was at its peak, Massimo got himself poisoned and was bedridden for a year, with things being touch and go for a while. To make matters worse Federico was in his rebellious phase and almost got himself and his two Guardians killed while recklessly chasing Massimo's attackers. And nobody wanted Xanxus to be an heir. It was a time when Vongola seriously seemed to have no reliable heirs to lead it in the future. 

Of course the situation would resolve itself in time. Enrico would gather a full set of Guardians. Massimo would make a full recovery. And Federico learned a lesson from almost getting his Guardians killed and calmed down considerably. And until they all got themselves killed later on, things would remain fine. 

But that was unfortunately three years in the future. As far as most people were concerned right now, Vongola's days were numbered. 

Now imagine that in this situation, somehow it got out that Primo's lineage had survived and that it just produced a baby with an active Sky Flame core from birth. 

Utter pandemonium. Chaos. Instability. Conflict. Possible war. 

The factions would take it as a sign. There would be demands from the traditionalists to crown the baby as heir, while Nono's loyalists would vehemently resist. All three of Timoteo's blood sons would come under even more scrutiny. Their eligibility as heirs would be in danger of being declared invalid. 

Vongola Nono's lineage would be in danger. 

Then the baby was a threat.

That was what Sawada Iemitsu was seeing right now. Not his son, but a threat to the stability of the Vongola Famiglia. That was how he was a danger to Tsuna. 

When Tsuna was five years old, Timoteo di Vongola had sealed his Flames, and Iemitsu had allowed it to happen. Even though nearly two years had passed since things had calmed down with Timoteo's sons, he had still seen Tsuna as a possible risk to his heirs' position. He hadn't wanted the possibility of another inheritance conflict so soon after the last scare, not when his heirs were just finding their footing. 

And sure there were some excuses flung around like allowing Tsuna to live a normal life….but who were they kidding? How was Sealing a child the right thing to do? A Sky at that? An element that depended on Harmony ? Sealing the Flames of a child was dreadful. Sealing the Flames of a Child Sky was heinous. If the Vindice had found out, Vongola Nono and the Young Lion of Vongola both would've been rotting in Vendicare. 

Tsuna had lived a half life from that day onwards till Reborn came knocking. It was hell. And the worst part? He hadn't even known it. Just that deep inside, something had been missing.

They had done that to a five year old even when the risk had long passed. What would they do to an infant when they were in the thick of the conflict? Tsuna would bet his Hyper Intuition that the phone call Iemitsu had to take was Nono's and that the mafia don was currently clearing his schedule to make a very important trip. 

Tsuna would like to think he was wrong. That they wouldn't do anything horrible to a baby. Sealing a child was one thing. The child might survive. Sealing a baby is a death knell. There is no chance of survival. It was basically sealing the Dying Will of a being that hadn't even formed an idea of what living was, of what dying was...the result would be the barely existing Flame sputtering out as if it wasn't even there.

So Tsuna would like to be wrong. Tsuna would like to think that Nono and Iemitsu wouldn't do this. That they wouldn't do what was essentially infanticide. 

But see the thing is-

Iemitsu reached over and pinched his cheeks, still making those infernal noises, but Tsuna caught the cold gleam in his eyes, a certain apathy that did not match his actions. 

-Tsuna was never wrong. 

Iemitsu had always been a Family man. 

So when Iemitsu made to hold him, and tried to take him from his grandmother's warm, safe arms, Tsuna did the sensible thing.

He wailed his heart out. 

Chapter Text

The birth of the kami of fire, Kagutsuchi-no-Mikoto fatally burned his mother Izanami-no-Kami and caused her death. For his act of matricide, his father Izanagi-no-Kami decapitated the fire god and cut apart his body. From the blood that was spilled eight warrior gods were born, and from the severed body eight mountain gods. Thus the story ends…for most.

For a select few, the tale continues.

When Izanagi-no-Mikoto took his sword Ame-no-Ohabari and beheaded and dismembered his son Hi-no-Kagutsuchi, the fire god’s will refused to succumb and his soul blazed with the desire to live. His mutilated body, cut into eight pieces, fell upon the earth and became eight volcanoes. Seven of these volcanoes erupted immediately, and from them burst forth seven divine flames, symbols of the Ho-musubi ’s dying will. They rose into the sky and burned with his resolve. Before the last volcano could erupt however, the water goddess Mizuhanome, the Clay Princess Haniyamahime, the Gourd Goddess, and the kami of River Reeds, all deities borne of Izanami-no-Mikoto in her death throes, and who had been instructed by their mother to calm the Hi-no-Kami, arrived and prevented the eruption. Thus the last flame, unable to escape the volcano, and about to be extinguished, broke into seven fragments, and seeped into the earth. 

Seeing this, the fires that burst into the sky decided to hide and bide their time. In time, their hiding places became the domains of various gods, and eventually, they were found. But instead of facing elimination, they found themselves being blessed for their tenacity.

The furious red flames had hidden in the storms, waiting for a chance to attack, and the great Susanoo-no-Mikoto was greatly impressed by its spirit. The fires were thus blessed to be always at the forefront of the attack, always the first to draw blood.

The gentle blue flames had hidden in the rains, with a different strategy, to soothe and subdue instead of a frontal assault. The dragon god Kuraokami, recognised it as its sibling, and in kinship, imbued the flames with powers of both drizzle and deluge.

The golden flames had hidden in the rays of the sun, and desired neither siege nor surrender, but to mend the wounds that birthed it. When the sun set and sank into the sea, the flames found themselves in the white waters of the raging sea, and made its way to the west, seeking only to heal. On the shores of a strange land, a foreign god found the sputtering flame and brought it back to life, imbuing within it the power to mend and repair, and of initiation. He would look on in interest as the flame made its way back across the Jīng hǎi, and centuries later, would make his own way across for a visit, becoming revered across the lands as Shinno-Entei.

The green flames took refuge in the boom of thunder and the glare of lightning. It's great desire was to defend, so that the atrocity that befell its progenitor would never happen again. The mighty thunder god Raijin was pleased by the ferocity of its will, and granted it the power of the sword and the shield, to cut through, and to manifest.

The purple flames had another approach entirely, hopping onto a cloud and drifting away. It wished no part in this conflict, but craved its own territory to rule over, and promptly started establishing its abode, stitching together a massive cloud cover over the sea. It was found by the aloof and mysterious Tsukuyomi-no-Mikoto as moonlight hit the clouds, and the god endowed it with powers of propagation, so that it could expand its nation, and if need be, have a thousand blades to defend it. 

The indigo flames on the other hand, were of the cunning, clever sort. When it initially took to the skies, it had spied kitsunebi off in the distance and the crafty thing sneaked its way into the procession. It was, of course, caught in time as it jumped from kitsune to kitsune , but the foxes found this amusing and ingenious and brought it to the illustrious Inari Ōkami. The fox god, also quite impressed, gifted it with power of illusion, allowing the flames to weave upon the fabric of the world. 

The last flame, of amber, had turned out to be a singularly audacious entity. It traveled beyond the skies and to the heavens itself, and hid in the flames enveloping the throne of Amaterasu Ōmikami herself! The great ruler of Takamagahara, after finding this insolent interloper, scrutinised it for sometime, and recognised in this blazing fire the same quality Izanagi-no-Mikoto might have seen in her all those aeons ago, the ability to rule. Thus she proclaimed to all, “This one shall reign. To unite is its fate.”

Thereafter the Fires came out of hiding, and descended onto the earth after the tenson korin. During the time of the three generations of Hyuga, they started sharing their power with the worthy and the capable. Gradually, they became known far and wide.

Crimson chrysanthemums bloom,
Celebrating the Earth's turn.
Amidst the rain's embrace,
A blue torii by the sea,
Offered prayers for peace.

The gleam of kintsugi,
Sought healing in its veins.
And a jade dragon,
Guarded the starry sky.

Hidden among the clouds,
One gazed at the moon,
And another concealed within indigo hues,
was lost in a dream.
In the palace, the Emperor's time,
Awaited upon an amber throne.

Gradually, they were given names.

Ketsueki, Yasuragi, Chiyu, Hogo, Getsufuji, Gen'ei, and Kotei.

Together they were Ketsui no Hono. 

The Flames of Resolve. 

Or so the legend goes.

When her mother had been pregnant with her, everyone-elders, midwives, servants, visitors, and so on-was sure that the baby was going to be a boy. They would look at the way her womb hung, the foods she craved, her complexion, her shifting moods, and say, "Ah yes! This child is surely a boy!"

Now these people were all experienced in the matters of pregnancy and childbirth, and usually correct about these things. So Miyamoto Omasa picked out a good, meaningful name, befitting a young man of her Samurai ancestry, while also keeping to her husband's family traditions. 

Then the child was born on a chilly December morning shrouded in mist, undoubtedly a girl. 

Her father, Sawada Keigo had laughed and laughed and laughed. A bona-fide trickster from birth he called her, and gave her her first nickname, "Ai-chan". 

Her mother, unflappable as she was, had taken it in stride and didn't bother to change the name she had chosen. Her name was a homage to both sides of her family, to the Miyamoto clan’s warrior heritage and the Sawada’s spiritual one, and she hadn’t been keen on going on another hectic search for an appropriate name. Thus the girl was unusually named Musashi. 

For the longest time, Musashi, like everyone else, had assumed that her nickname 'Ai-chan' simply meant love or affection. A common enough name. It seemed so obvious that's what her father intended that no-one bothered to ask him, or question it. 

It wouldn’t be until she was fifteen that she learned there was something more to her innocuous nickname.

Late autumn. A nightmare. Unable to go back to sleep, she had bundled herself up in a blanket and walked towards their sakaki. She swore she could feel something from it, something warm and comforting, like sitting next to the irori in the main room. But everytime she said something about it, her parents would look at each other with worried expressions on their faces, so Musashi had taken to making these little jaunts at night.

Unfortunately for her she hadn't been the only one puttering about in the dark. To this day she couldn't fully remember what had happened. She had been told later that they were thieves intending to steal from the shrine. She must've either seen them or they had probably seen her and given chase. 

The only thing she could recollect clearly from that day was hiding behind a boulder in the garden, trying hard to stay still and silent. The sounds of the shishi-odoshi in the darkness had never before felt so unnerving as it had that day and she had felt an intense kinship with all of deerkind. Fear like never before had invaded her when footsteps came around the boulder and the only thing she could remember after that was praying as hard as she could to Ō-Inari-sama, to please save her. 

There had been a flash of indigo, and the thieves came upon her hiding place, daggers glinting...and hadn't seen her. She was right in front of them...and they hadn't seen her. 

It was only when they left that the world came back into focus and she could finally hear all the noise and chaos that had enveloped the shrine. Her parents had found her next, her father in near tears and her mother more frazzled than she had ever seen her. 

Musashi had caught a fever that lasted three days. 

When she woke up, she had been checked over by a Hibari doctor, and her parents had revealed a secret to her. 

That she was now of the Fire. Kagutsuchi ’s will upon the world.

In front of her disbelieving and overwhelmed self, her parents had unfolded their family history in full. 

And suddenly, all the strange things she had noticed, both before and after her awakening, had made sense.

Her mother's well loved Naginata, how it felt like it was baying for blood. 

The distressing feeling of being watched from the shrine’s shinkyou .

The Sakaki. Its warmth.

Her parents had sat with her, as she read through the records of her predecessors.

Miyamoto Tomoe, an Onna-musha who had burst into searing red Fire in battle in defence of her sister. She was Kōgyoku.

Sawada Kazuhito, a priest from the Sawada family’s time in Edo, with his soothing blue flames. He was Seigyoku.

Arisawa Ryuha, wife of Sawada Misaki, had lit up in green sparks that smelled of the air before thunder in defense of the shrine. Ryokugyoku.

Miyamoto Kinshiro, who had healed his father with hands coated in gold. An onmyōji turned healer. Ōgyoku.

Uchiwa Shiori, a kunoichi and the lover of Sawada Reiji, who had given him children but never marriage, who could, in a burst of purple, rain thousands of kunai upon her enemies. An Iga clan Shimizuakira.

Then there was herself, little Sawada Musashi, with her indigo spark, that could build upon the fabric of this world. Heiress to the famed Sawada clan who had devotedly worshiped the great Ō-Inari for generations. She was Ruri.

Her father's 'Ai-chan' hadn't meant love or affection, although he had plenty of that to give her. It was for 'Indigo'. A tongue in cheek name for the child that had tricked everyone from the womb itself. 

He had never thought his words would become prophetic. 

Her parents had told her how proud they were of her, for protecting herself, that she did good. 

Their embrace had been like spring water, soothing and gentle. 

Her uncles and aunts on the other hand, had never wasted a single moment to tell her how fortunate she was to have the Weaving Fires, the flames that Create. How auspicious it was to have the next priestess be marked by Ō-Inari-sama! But there had been something more to their gaze than just that. It was as if they weren’t seeing her. Not really. Their gazes were set somewhere in the distance. Those looks…they had discomfited her. More than anything else that was what had bothered her.

As was custom, on the next new moon, the shrine held the ceremony to declare her as the Sawada Ruriko of the generation. As the ceremonial headdress was lowered atop her, instead of excitement, Musashi had felt like running away. Far far away. 

Her rising distress however, hadn’t gone unnoticed, and her parents felt that she needed to be away from all the ruckus. Thus it was decided that she would be sent to the Hibari to train, even though it was years ahead of schedule.

On the day she was to leave, they sat her down with a manuscript so ancient it looked older than all their heirlooms, and told her the last part of the story.

The seventh Fire. Amber on the throne.

All its holders, blazing in glory, carving their names into history…

They were born to rule. To lead. Wherever they went, legions followed. But in all of the legends recorded in that manuscript, there had been only fifteen instances of this Fire appearing. And only two in recent history. 

Hibari Kimiko, Founder of Namimori, who had led her vassals out of Edo when the Tokugawa Shogunate had shifted their seat of power, unwilling to bow to anyone, no matter what the Shogunate had offered her. Not even when Tokugawa Ieyasu had arrived in person to propose an alliance. 

The strange foreign man Musashi had heard stories about, whose descendents still lived in Namimori proper, who had been granted their name after proving his worth. Who the Sawada family annals had recorded as being a King, for he could not have been anything else with the purity and power of his Fire. 

The man had even audaciously named himself Ieyasu. In Namimori. That sort of gall, it had to belong to a King. 

This amber Fire…it was blessed by Amaterasu-Ōmikami herself, Kōtei no Hi, the Fires of the Emperor. They were Kohaku.

Musashi had been in awe. 

Unfortunately it hadn't ended there.

"An emperor will be born to our line", her mother had told her that day. "It is prophesied" .

"As a tenth he will be", her father had said as he patted her on the head. 

A soothsayer had declared it so long before the Sawada had followed Hibari Kimiko out of Edo. And her family had been waiting.

Musashi's indigo fire was a sign according to many in the family. Purple and Indigo were closest to the Crowned Fire. Murasaki, the colour of royalty and Aiiro, the colour of the people. It was believed that if a family produced both, it was proof that their 'blood could make amber'. It was a symbol of potential. 

Hibari Arashi was Shimizuakira. His granddaughter, Hibari Kasumi, even though she was considered illegitimate for most of her life, had been a Ruri. And four generations later, Hibari Kimiko was born, an amber among silver. The bones had long since foretold her birth, and had called her Kohaku long before Kimiko had been her name. Her birth had made the wait of four generations a legend. 

The Sawada, allied with the Hibari for centuries, had been waiting for their own Kohaku. They had produced Getsufuji before in their shrine guardians like her grandmother, Sawada Shiki. But ironically no Weaver had been born to them for generations, even though they were priests of Ō-Inari-sama. 

Till now. Until her. Sawada Musashi, a trickster fox from the womb. 

"Four generations", her father had intoned with sadness in his eyes. 

"You are named Musashi", her mother had whispered into her hair as she hugged her close. 

And even as a young girl, Musashi had understood. 

Since the beginning, their clan have had a peculiar tradition. A Sawada’s name was to have two different writings. One for them, the other for outsiders. The second kind of writings were always written with a character for a number. In Cycles of ten because of the Sawada belief in Ō-Inari-sama having ten tails.

Grandmother was Shiki. Her father was Keigo. She was Musashi. 

Four. Five. Six. 

A countdown.

Kohaku would be born to her line. 

Suddenly the increased attention on her made much more sense. The uncles,  aunts, elders, they weren't excited for her. They were excited for the future contained in her blood. Their eyes, their whispers, their excitement…

She wasn’t Sawada Musashi to them anymore. She wasn’t the little girl they watched grow up. 

She was Ruriko.

She was a womb.

Even years later, remembering that fact would make her sick.

Nightmares had plagued her relentlessly then. In those dreams a faceless crowd would slice her open and she would bleed, not red blood, but liquid amber. And as she lay dying they would retrieve an infant from her mutilated belly, silent as death, and before her eyes, they would dismember the babe and make a crown out of its bones. The fate of Hi-no-Kagutsuchi, repeated.

She would wail in outrage, but like Izanami-no-Mikoto she would burn from the inside out and fall into yomi.

Those days, Musashi often woke up screaming. 

Understandably, she developed an aversion towards any mention of her line’s 'glorious' destiny. Her previous awe had turned into fear.

Her parents had tried to shield her, but there was only so much they could do. 

As people around her discussed the best possible groom for her, someone whose lineage would ensure the prophesied emperor for their family, she began to hate the Fire blazing inside her. 

She hadn’t known it then, but she had begun to destabilise. But her father did. Sawada Keigo had seen his own father shatter, and had no desire to see his daughter go down the same path. He hastened the process of sending her away. 

At sixteen she went to the Hibari to train. 

It was there that she learned the meaning of the word pain as they whipped her into shape. But even as she hit the dojo floor for the umpteenth time, it had been loads better than being back at home and listening to them talk about her like she was cattle. 

She had met Kojiro there. A fellow student, a Ryokugyoku. And unlike her he seemed to take pride in it.

That incensed her immediately. Being Ruriko only brought her nightmares, while he reveled in being Raiga.

She hated him. Hated the mirror he was holding up to her. But somehow the bastard had grown on her like a weed. And before she knew it, she had envisioned an entire life with him. 

At 25, when her training was over and she was called back, the elders asked her to marry Sawada Ietsuna. Their goal had been clear. Ietsuna was the descendent of that foreign Kohaku. Adding his blood to their lineage would ensure tennō would be born to the Sawada. Even with a prophecy that ensured the birth, they had wanted the extra insurance that marrying into Sawada Ieyasu’s family would give them.

She told them no of course. That she would only marry Kojirō. Argued that as a descendent of Hibari Kimiko, he was just as much an ideal match as Sawada Ietsuna. But the elders were unmoved. The Sawada, they said, had consistently produced people with the potential for Kōtei no Hi, while Hibari Kimiko had been a once in a lifetime occurrence for the Hibari. Even as her parents, the clan leaders, took her side, they had refused to give. The elders had enough power in the family for that.

So like a filial daughter, Musashi had bowed, seemingly acceding to the wisdom of the elders.

Then she went and put Hibari Kojirō’s babe in her belly.

Predictably the proposed match didn’t go through. The clan had been furious. But her parents had only looked at her with nothing but exasperated pride and that was all that had mattered to her.

She heard later that when informed of what happened, Sawada Ietsuna had laughed till he cried. That had marginally improved her view of him.

The elders had to capitulate after that. Except for one, Sawada Kyuuto. He accused her of compromising the Sawada family’s grand destiny and left the shrine in protest. Her father would tell her afterwards that Sawada Kyuuto’s ancestor was among those who witnessed the foreign man’s Fire, and that his branch of the family had since been convinced that it was a sign from the heavens that the man had arrived in Namimori of all places and took their name, that it was his blood who would give the Sawada clan their prophesied emperor. They had been obsessed with combining the two family lines ever since. 

Musashi had been too high on the ecstasy of finally taking control of her life to think much of it. Perhaps she should have paid more attention then. 

But Hibari Kojirō had become Sawada Kojirō and then Nana was born and thus the incident was largely forgotten.

There were nothing but years of bliss after. Musashi let her guard down. And fate took its chance.

An earthquake. Getting hit in the head by falling debris. Kojirō protecting Nana. 

Musashi woke up more than a year later, an orphan and widow, her daughter married to Sawada Iemitsu. The destiny she avoided had caught up to her Nana. 

She learned of what happened from the Hibari matriarch during her convalescence. She and Nana were the last of the Sawada. Most of the hill had collapsed in on itself and the shrine was gone. Though her parents had managed to secure the altar and the heirlooms. Musashi had been comatose for an entire year and a half. They had almost lost hope of her ever waking up, till the Hibari managed to bring a talented healer from India. 

And Nana was now a married woman. She was married to Sawada Iemitsu and had been for a year.

Musashi had been in shock. She was quite ungrateful then. Shouting, demanding an explanation. Nana was Kojirō’s daughter. Why wasn’t she with the Hibari? Her father’s family? Why had they allowed her to marry into the Sawadas, knowing that Iemitsu had returned to the Vongola? Turned his back on his ancestor’s resolve? Brought shame to Sawada Ieyasu?

It had taken a while for her to calm down and apologise to her in-laws. 

Slowly she pieced together what happened. Kojirō had used his Fire to protect Nana. He had done his duty as the shrine’s Ryokugyoku, protecting its heir. He had done his duty as a father, protecting his daughter. 

But Nana had seen her father perish right in front of her eyes. The last image she had of him was her father covered in his Fire, shielding her and the structure he hid her under. The event had caused her own potential to manifest and Nana opened her own Fire, Hogo like Kojirō himself. However her trauma caused her to reject it so completely that she started to destabilise, at an alarming pace at that.

It was as if Nana had removed all information about the Fires from her mind. She also developed concerning reactions to any mention of her Father, and would go nearly catatonic if approached by anyone with a likeness to Kojirō. And unfortunately most Hibari tended to look alike. 

Nana had to be moved elsewhere for her own mental health. But they couldn’t entrust her to a civilian either. It had to be someone who knew about their world. When they were debating on which among the Hibari’s allied families could take her in, the decision was taken out of their hands.

Sawada Kyuuto had persuaded Nana to come live with him. When she recognized that name, Musashi’s blood had run cold. She could guess what had happened. Nana, traumatised and alone, Kyuuto, obsessed with securing the prophecy, and Iemitsu, who had been sniffing around Nana for a while, who now had a chance at attaining Nana, and if Musashi were to die, the Sawada’s heirlooms for the Vongola in one fell swoop.

Nana, a destabilising Ryokugyoku, and Iemitsu, a powerful kohaku .

Nana’s mind may have rejected Fire but her body would not have…subconsciously she must have latched onto Iemitsu to stabilise herself. And Kyuuto and Iemitsu must have taken shameless advantage of it.

Musashi had been devastated. And angry.

And that anger drove her daughter away.

Whenever Nana visited Musashi would urge her to divorce her husband, and by the time Musashi had recovered, their relationship was fraught, to say the least. Musashi’s disparaging remarks towards Kyuuto angered Nana, who didn’t want to hear such things about the man who had supported her in her grief. 

In the winter of Sawada Kyuuto’s death, the tension finally exploded, and Nana left for Tokyo. Musashi was left alone and threw herself into rebuilding the shrine. The Hibari had not only managed to save the sakaki but also brought in talented restoration experts from India through their new daughter-in-law, and there was much to do, much to salvage. She told herself that it was enough. She shut herself away, even from her in-laws, and resolved to endure. She needed no one but herself. She definitely did not need a daughter keen on abandoning their ancestors.

Mother and child, both as bullheaded as the other. Things had been bleak.

Sawada Musashi was a woman of uncompromising principles but she hadn’t always been that way. Her spine of steel was forged later in life. Ironically enough, that very same attribute of her character, the one she had actively cultivated and what had allowed her to thrive, was what drove her daughter away, that too at a time the both of them should’ve stood together. Their obstinacy was the one common point between them, in everything else Nana was her father’s daughter through and through. And without him, the gap between them widened, bridges remained unmended, and both mother and child showed no signs of giving. For years. 

Then came the baby.

One day Musashi had found her daughter standing at the base of the shrine’s sandō, looking up at the stairs with trepidation, and nearly bursting with child. Mother and daughter had looked at each other across the distance, that had once seemed unassailable. No words were exchanged, but the back gates were opened for the car to come up nonetheless. 

She came to know that Nana’s health had taken a turn towards her last trimester, and she hadn’t wanted the genius doctors her imbecile of a husband had provided for her, she had wanted her mother. 

Their war ended just like that. 

(Later on, Nana would discover several unused plane tickets to Tokyo in a drawer and the ice around them would melt even further. Not fully, but enough.)

They had talked. Things were better. 

One thing they left unaddressed was the topic of Nana’s husband. Musashi would never accept that man as her son-in-law. And Nana knew it. So to keep the peace they had both valiantly ignored the elephant in the room.

But as Nana’s health grew worse and her due date got closer, Iemitsu still hadn’t shown himself in Namimori. Musashi had found it increasingly difficult to hold her tongue and the only reason she succeeded was for the sake of her relationship with her daughter. It was so fragile still, and Nana did not deserve the stress. 

Her daughter went into labour unexpectedly.

The child was born after a gruelling three days of labour. Nana was bedridden. The babe barely made a sound and looked like a still doll. The sight of the silent babe brought back memories of the terrible nightmares of Musashi’s girlhood. She started dreaming of crowns made of bones once more. In hindsight, that should’ve been a sign.

It took Iemitsu another month to arrive.

Only the thought of her daughter waking up a widow stalled Musashi’s hands from beheading the bastard right in her genkan. It was a horrible thing to happen to someone. She’d know. That and the fact that Nana wasn't shying away from flames any longer and seemed to fully understand what a marriage to Iemitsu meant. So she suffered through his antics. Besides, killing the Vongola Consigliere without just cause would have consequences she wasn’t willing to invite into Namimori. She might be a Hibari daughter-in-law, but there were limits. 

However her worries only heightened as the days went by. Iemitsu loved Nana, that much became clear. Perhaps not as much as other things, not as much as Musashi'd like, but the perfect amount that Nana was content with. But the man had had such a strange reaction towards the baby. Everything had gone alright until he actually held the child. There was a few minutes of silence, a general aura of bewilderment, and then it was as if a switch had been flipped. The excited father disappeared completely and instead there was left a thoughtful and somewhat perplexed man. He barely paid any attention to the infant and spent all of his time either at Nana’s bedside, or on the phone. 

The only time Musashi had seen Iemitsu pay any regard to the babe was when he was naming him. Tsunayoshi, after the fifth shōgun, son of Tokugawa Iemitsu…Fitting. This too annoyed her. These foreign Sawadas weren’t the only ones with naming traditions. That ruffian hadn’t even considered that despite no doubt being aware of their practices. But again she held her tongue. For Nana, she would keep her thoughts to herself. Besides there were such things called nicknames, and that curious western practice, middle names or something like. 

Nevertheless, considering the relationship between the actual Tokugawa Iemitsu and Tokugawa Tsunayoshi, Musashi had still felt uneasy about Iemitsu’s treatment of his newborn. Combined with the dreadful dreams plaguing her sleep, she couldn’t help but feel this was an omen.

Her servants had assured her that it was just the jitters of a first time father, and that men took a while to acclimatise to fatherhood. Quite possibly Iemitsu had expected to feel an instant bond to the baby, and when that didn’t happen, did not know what to do, keeping a distance as a result. He would learn, they said.

But Musashi hadn’t been so sure. She had seen him when he arrived. The excitement, the anticipation, the nervousness…all of that had been genuine. All of that had vanished in the instant it took for the nurse to settle Tsunayoshi in his arms. Now it was as if he couldn’t bear to look at his son. He pretended of course. Calling him ‘Tuna-fishie’ in a grating voice and making childish noises. But there was a coldness in his eyes that was frightening. And whenever that receded, his eyes would dim with what seemed like regret. 

Musashi worried endlessly. She tried to console herself of course. It was just her imagination. She had always hated Iemitsu and she was just trying to find faults in him. She was aware of her own biases and how much her perception of the past was affected by her animosity.

But Iemitsu had married Nana in an unacceptable way. 

Iemitsu was a Vongola man. Used to power, used to cruelty.

And above all, Iemitsu was kohaku.

They were known for taking what they wanted.

So when Nana urged her to give Iemitsu a chance and let him take care of Tsunayoshi for a day, she was reluctant. But she had no proof of anything. All she had were conjectures that could most likely be influenced by her own concerns about Iemitsu. Her instincts, her Fire told her to be wary. And she was inclined to believe them. 

But if there was actually something to be wary of, it would not be wise to make Iemitsu suspicious, so she placed Tsunayoshi in his arms, told the servants to keep an eye on the situation, and went to complete her duties as a priestess. 

In the afternoon, she went to their tamaya, to speak to her husband as she had taken to do every other week over the years. She stared at his name etched into the tamashiro and found her eyes welling with tears. She spent an hour like that at the altar, the only place in the world where she could be vulnerable, her aides politely averting their eyes from their grieving mistress. She visited her daughter next, and found her sleeping peacefully. Musashi was grateful, Nana would have noticed her puffy eyes if she had been awake. She conversed with the doctor about her daughter’s health before leaving. It was only afterwards that she slowly made her way to the nursery.

Neither her servants nor the discreet Fire protections she left on the crib had notified her of any danger to the child. But about halfway to the residential section, her Fire began transmitting strange readings. She honestly couldn’t make any heads or tails of the information. There was still no danger as far as she could glean, nevertheless she hastened her steps. Then just before she reached the nursery, her Fire was abruptly dispelled. Musashi gave up all pretence of leisure and rushed, prompting her aides to make haste being her lest they be left behind by their mistress. 

Musashi’s steps slowed down only as she neared the nursery door, and completely stopped right in front of it. She could not sense Iemitsu anywhere. She pushed her awareness out and found the bright amber Fire in the inner courtyard, some ways off of the nursery and from the courtyard’s Fire signature, he’s been there for a while, well before her Fire went out. 

Her features twisted in puzzlement…If Iemitsu hadn’t been the one to dispel her Fire, then what had? It couldn’t be Vongola’s enemies, Sawada Ieyasu’s history was zealously guarded, especially right now with how tumultuous the situation at Vongola is, because of which the main family would suppress any information that could lead to the famiglia splintering. And her in-laws were guarding the town as well, with a new family member being born and all. In addition, there was no other presence in the room with the babe. At that her lips curled in displeasure. Had that buffoon not even called a servant to look after his son before leaving the room? She told a servant to fetch Iemitsu, determined to confront the issue immediately. How dare he leave a month old infant alone?

Slowly, Musashi slid the door open. And froze. There, through the bars of the crib, she could see it clearly. Tsunayoshi, still, silent Tsunayoshi, was moving.

Disbelieving, she made her way to the crib and peered over the edge. Her eyes weren’t deceiving her after all. 

Tsunayoshi was awake. The baby, who had been more doll than human, was moving, blinking his eyes, and making noises. Musashi almost toppled over in relief. She had been so concerned, praying that whatever was wrong will be fixed, but they hadn’t known what was wrong in the first place. The baby’s vitals were fine, his health actually perfect even though it was a premature birth. By all accounts Tsunayoshi should’ve been a normal baby.

The more superstitious part of her had wondered if the babe’s soul was an ikiryō, cursed to wander. But she always reigned herself in before she got too far on that path. 

Now her worries were assuaged. She gently picked up her grandson, talking to him, joyous at the awareness in his eyes. His little sounds, his tiny movements, so indescribably precious. 

He was a curious sort, Tsunayoshi. He looked at everything and anything, and when she brought him over to the window, which that fool Iemitsu had left open of course, seemed fascinated with the shingen. Well Musashi thought he looked fascinated. As a month old baby he couldn’t see very well, so perhaps it was the colours of the garden that interested him. Musashi was just glad that he was reacting at all. She couldn’t wait to tell Nana that her son was awake.

Her awareness picked up Iemitsu’s approaching signature and she felt her rage returning. Her other fears might have been her just being paranoid, but this time her concerns were warranted. Iemitsu had left the child alone, with a window open and no one in the room to watch him. This needed to be addressed.

Musashi braced herself for a confrontation her son-in-law was sure to attempt to brush off. Or she would have, if the tiny body in her arms hadn’t abruptly tensed as if in pain. Tsunayoshi curled up, making sounds of distress and Musashi frantically checked her grandson for injuries. She couldn’t find any, and was just about to call for the doctor when the door slid open, and Iemitsu stepped into the room. The tension in Tsunayoshi’s body laxed as abruptly as it arrived. But there remained a tautness in the babe, a certain caution, so different from the inquisitiveness displayed before. 

A civilian might have said that Musashi was reading too much into this. A baby might have had those particular reactions for any reason. But Musashi was not a civilian. She was Honō. She wasn’t someone to ignore her Fire-given instincts, especially when they were all but screaming at her. 

She wasn’t altogether paying attention to what she was saying to Iemitsu, all her focus was on her grandson, who acted progressively stranger the closer Iemitsu got to him. The babe seemed increasingly discontent at his father’s antics, which was a normal reaction people had when in Iemitsu’s general vicinity, but there was a palpable wariness in the air. Iemitsu didn’t notice. His gaze as usual was seeing past his son. 

Something was wrong. Musashi could feel it in her bones.

Iemitsu reached for Tsunayoshi. And the babe wailed. 

Musashi all but teleported away from the man.

Something was very wrong.

For some reason, she felt out of breath. As if she had just done something strenuous. Musashi struggled to appear unaffected. 

What in the world was that? Tsunayoshi had just screamed as babies are prone to do. Was it because this was the first time he had done so, having been unresponsive till now? But even then, she should have just felt surprise and alarm, not his bone deep terror. And even in her hasty retreat, she had seen it. The cold, affectless look in Iemitsu’s eyes. 

That wasn’t a distant, out-of-depth father. 

That was… Vongola .

Gods…What is this feeling? Was she going insane after all?

She didn’t let Iemitsu see her turmoil however. The sun would set in the east before Sawada Musashi showed weakness in front of Iemitsu. Outside, she adopted the dignified mien of the Sawada matriarch and let her lips curl in a sneer. As naturally as she could, she manoeuvred Tsunayoshi partially behind her.

Something clicked into place between them. Tsunayoshi quieted down, his sniffles fading away. Musashi would have to analyse that later. Right now there were other priorities.

“Iemitsu…I think it's best if you leave. Not only did you leave Tsunayoshi alone, but you also scared him. Return to your phone calls or go see Nana, I do not care. I shall put the child to sleep now.”

The man however showed no sign of anything awkward having happened at all. His teeth gleamed as he grinned. Musashi grit her teeth.

“ Okaa-san come on-” 

“Iemitsu.” 

Her voice was firm. Iemitsu closed his mouth with an audible clack. 

“Nana asked me to give you a chance. I did so. You failed. Leave.”

Short clipped sentences. Iemitsu straightened up, a concerning pensive expression overtaking his face, and stared at her. Then he turned around and left the room. 

Musashi waited till his presence went out of range to let go of the breath she was holding. She was sure of it now. There was something afoot, and it all revolved around Tsunayoshi. She put the now calm infant down in his crib, before moving to the window. 

She stared at the Sakaki, letting its warmth, nurtured by centuries of Sawada Honō, to sooth her roiling mind. She would be fine. Her family would be fine. She would figure things out. And whatever Iemitsu was planning, it can’t be that nefarious. Something Vongola undoubtedly. But he won’t endanger his own son. Even if Musashi doubted his commitment to Tsunayoshi, his love for Nana was real. He won’t endanger Nana’s son.

It felt less like she believed it and more like she was trying to convince herself. 

Musashi sighed. She closed the window and made sure it was secure. She called up her Fire, and laid her strongest ward on the room. There. Now the nursery was the most secure room in the building. Even a Vongola Consigliere would be hard pressed to even sense anything inside. 

Satisfied, she turned back around and stopped dead.

Maybe…

Maybe she was going mad after all.

Because what other explanation was there for her grandson floating a good foot over his crib. In a corona of fire at that. Bright, amber Fire.

Her own indigo Fire blazed over her as she tried to purge the hallucinogens that someone must have managed to slip into her system. But her diagnostics detected nothing.

And Tsunayoshi was still floating. 

In fact, was he floating even higher?

‘Somehow’, she thought faintly, ‘this must be Iemitsu’s fault.’

Musashi leaned back onto the window, stunned. Her thoughts were chaotic. How could the Fire be amber? The prophecy had said ten. Tsunayoshi was eight in the line. It was too early. Two generations early. 

“An emperor shall come to the Sawada. He will be a tenth, borne on a throne.”

Her mind ground to a halt.

Born as a tenth to Sawada. But which Sawada?

There were two Sawada families in Namimori. Tsunayoshi was both.

Tenth. Vongola Nono.

The trouble brimming at Vongola with its heirs. Iemitsu’s strange behaviour. His coldness towards his son. The repeated phone calls. Tsunayoshi’s miraculous awakening.

Pieces fell into place. She could now see the full picture. Musashi slid down the wall as Tsunayoshi floated over to her. She caught him in her arms as he dropped and clutched him to her chest. 

Alarm bells rang constantly in her head, but the weight of her grandson was grounding. 

And then shock gave way to rage.

They dare? They fucking dare?

The Sawada were walking the earth long before Vongola was even a concept. The last name Iemitsu flaunted around was a gift. He turned his back on his ancestor by returning to the land that exiled him, and now it seems he is turning his back on his descendants as well. A craven traitor.

Musashi Fire blazed as she thought of Iemitsu’s abandonment of family for famiglia.

No matter. Whatever he was planning won’t succeed. She won’t allow it.

She was Sawada Musashi. Ai-chan.

Ruriko of the Sawada. Daughter-in-law to the Hibari. 

Let's see how Iemitsu gets past her.

She stood up with renewed purpose. And if some part of her was smug with vindicated glee that it really was Iemitsu’s fault after all, then that was her business.

Chapter Text

Okay. In hindsight, Tsuna might have panicked. 

In his defence, anyone else in this situation would have lost their minds a long time ago. Sure, Tsuna didn’t necessarily want to live a second life-and the fact that he was indeed living one still hadn’t truly sunk in if he was being honest-but since he was here, he might as well get on with it, and getting on with it distinctly did not mean getting sealed and dying a painful death via the sealing as an infant. He’d like to go out on his terms the second time around as well, thank you very much.

So yes, he did panic for a bit. But thankfully a lifetime with Reborn-first as tutor and then as advisor-had long since inured him to bullshit so he managed to get a hold of himself well enough.

Things weren’t a complete disaster. Not yet, at least.

One good thing that happened was that his distress had triggered a pseudo-bond between him and his grandmother. Normally this would be a flame bond that occurs between a flame active guardian and their flame active charge, particularly between parents and children. With the pseudo-bond in place the level of um, communication, he could achieve with his grandmother increased significantly. And he would definitely need that for what's to come. Vongola wasn't going to graciously leave him alone till he hit puberty that's for sure.

Secondly, being extremely panicked had the benefit of coming out the other side remarkably calm, and in that calm Tsuna was able to think much more clearly. Thus, he came to the conclusion that as alarmed as they were, Nono and Iemitsu, well, they probably weren’t going to use the same binding seal they’d used on him in his last life. Probably.

You see, no matter how ruthless they were in the protection of Vongola assets, there were certain lines they didn’t like to cross, and certain images they wanted to project to the world. A lot of Vongola’s actions align with this image, less about righteousness, and more about impressing the facade of Vongola’s inherent ethical superiority on the rest of the mafia. Good PR, essentially. Tsuna had hated that hypocrisy as he grew into his role as Decimo, preferring even the outright violence of the Varia over the Family’s double standards. However it would be this very same hypocrisy that would allow him to weasel out of this situation.

The chances they were preparing for a complete sealing were low. Not impossible per se, but improbable. Especially when it would mean direct infanticide on Timoteo’s part, and filicide when it came to Iemitsu. And if it got out that the Vongola murdered the heir to Primo’s lineage to secure Nono’s, with the help of the babe’s father even, it would be a scandal of epic proportions that would cause more problems than what the sealing would actually solve. 

Instead, they would most likely prepare a modified version of the standard suppression seal. This kind of seal was usually used to help mafioso with unstable flames. But it was still only ever used on adults who lost flame control due to external factors. The usage of the suppression seal on children was very much frowned upon and only advised in extreme cases. While it wouldn’t kill Tsuna like a complete sealing would, it would still leave him in a vegetative state, with little to no chance of ever recovering. 

In Nono’s eyes, this would be the arguably better option. The humane option even. 

An option that would damn Tsuna to an insensate body.

Not. Ideal.

To top it all off, Tsuna’s own unresponsive state till now would mean they even had an excuse ready-made. A child, born practically a doll due to an already active flame core. There was an attempt to suppress the core to save the child, but unfortunately it failed. Truly a regretful situation. Vongola sends their sincere condolences to their Young Lion’s family.

Case closed. 

At least that’s how they would like it to go. Unfortunately for them Tsuna had his own plans. A suppression seal does leave a lot of wiggle room for Tsuna to work with compared to a full core-bind after all. And in a rare show of the universe working in his favour, the newer, better sealing matrices weren't invented just yet. Won’t be for a good 24 years into the future in fact.

At this point in time, most suppression seals, particularly Vongola designs, tended to share one little feature. One teeny tiny flaw.

Flame cores in need of suppression were usually chaotic so one of the principal aspects of the seal matrix was to gather the errant flames into the core and essentially create a barrier around it, cutting it off from the flame pathways of the body. The older matrices however couldn’t seal a core that was too large for its capacity. At first glance this would seem like a design flaw that should’ve been addressed a long time ago, but the thing is, the usual capacity of the seal was so huge that nobody ever encountered this problem. So no one knew about it, until years into the future and in an alternate dimension, some idiot tried to suppress the Tri-Ni-Sette Skies…together. 

This heretofore unknown fact gave Tsuna two advantages. One, his flame core was currently separated from its crux point as part of his body’s self-regulation of power. As most cores want to be settled, seals of this kind usually rely on the flame core’s natural inclination to coalesce in order to gather the chaotic flames and suppress them. But in Tsuna’s case, both his intuition and core would naturally fight pulling the tethered core to its crux position as doing so would mean certain death for his infant body. This bought time.

Two, Tsuna was a Sky and his core was decidedly not an infant core. If he could just sync his core to another with Harmony, not only would that throw off any and all calculations Timoteo had to factor into the matrix, the flame capacity would also go way over the matrix’s limit. And with the seal essentially trying to seal two cores as one, it would most likely go inert.

From there it would be as simple as Tsuna faking the suppression and pretending to go into a vegetative state, and luckily his grandmother just so happened to be a Mist. A surprisingly powerful one at that. And Tsuna also knew Iemitsu’s tendency to run from his problems. He 100% wouldn’t want to stay in Namimori with the son he had all but sentenced to death for the Family. And with how his grandmother grumbled about her daughter living in Tokyo and not in Namimori, which did not happen in his world by the way, Tsuna was also sure the man would whisk his wife away with him as soon as she was well enough to leave as well. His Intuition seconded this. 

‘I can hide away from them for a while if I wing it right’, Tsuna thought, drinking from his nursing bottle while being held in his grandmother’s arms. ‘And after a few years, I can miraculously wake up, flame negative and live a normal civilian life. Living in a shrine sounds lovely’, he concluded, determinedly trying to forget his grandmother having had to change his nappy before feeding, and ignoring the way she was currently burping him. 

‘But where can I find someone or something that has a fully developed core and is more importantly, compatible with me? Even obaasan’s core didn’t quite match’, the ex-mafia boss thought, frustrated. If the core signatures don't harmonize properly, he won’t be able to do the type of  binding he’s intending to do. It's not like he had time to acclimatize cores the normal way after all.

Tsuna sighed internally. By his estimates he had about 4 or 5 days to figure something out. At least his grandmother knew something was wrong now. His spontaneous horror-baby floating, and Iemitsu’s overall weird behaviour fortunately tipped her off. That and all the alarm bells he was ringing through their pseudo-bond. He wasn’t aware of just how much she’d worked out, but she suspected something, and that’ll have to do for now. Not only had she not let him out of her sight, but her grumblings had also given him enough information about the family dynamics for his Intuition to make more accurate predictions regarding Iemitsu's thought process. 

And that was how he got to know that Grandma was aware of Vongola and their more recent troubles. This had surprised him. By all accounts Sawada Musashi should have been flame active at best. But not only was she flame active and powerful, but from what he can glean from her directions to the servants, she knew of Vongola, and she knew enough to somewhat deduce the kind of danger Tsuna is in from the Vongola. 

This tidbit of information also changed his world view considerably. He had to remind himself that this was not his world. The people might look similar but the circumstances that shaped them were different. They were not the same people he knew in his home world. The fact that his mother had been living in Tokyo is itself a major difference. In his past life, Sawada Nana had never even been out of her prefecture till after her son became Vongola Decimo. 

Not to mention his grandmother being alive at all.

Somehow Sawada Musashi’s survival had diverted the flow of this world from what he knew. 

And while he was contemplating what other changes this world could have, his grandmother brought him over to the window again, probably thinking he liked the garden. And sure enough,

“There you go, Tsunayoshi. You like the shin’en, don’t you? I too liked the gardens as a young girl. It’s wonderful that you’re already taking after our side of the family”, she said smiling.

Damn, grandma really didn’t like his paternal family. Was it because of Iemitsu or is there something more to it? If there wasn’t the looming threat of the Vongola possibly offing him in the future, this could’ve been a golden opportunity to learn more about his maternal family. He knew practically nothing about them in his last life other than the bare bones-names, how they died etc. Now, after seeing how ferociously his grandmother loved him, after feeling it through their bond, Tsuna felt guilty about not having dug deeper in his last life. But he shook it off quickly, there was no need to dwell on bygones. If he somehow survived the coming few days, he’d have all the time in the world to acquaint himself with his grandmother and his maternal side. So for now, it’s better to shelve the ‘what ifs’. 

He looked out into the garden from his grandmother’s shoulder, absorbing her warmth, the mellow waves of peace radiating down their bond slowly lulling him to sleep. His eyes once again found the ludicrously large tree, and really, why was he so obsessed with that thing? 

Ping.

….

Wait a damn minute. 

Hibari Residence, Namimori

Hibari Indra read through the reports on her desk with a frown. It was a Hibari frown, so that meant no one even knew she was frowning. 

She sat back in her chair in contemplation. When Musashi had told her that Vongola was making moves against her grandson, Indra hadn’t been too concerned. Because what would the biggest mafia organisation in the world have to fear from an infant, and that too the son of a Vongola loyal like Sawada Iemitsu. If anything the child would likely be earmarked for the CEDEF. But her sister in law was not one to make a fuss about nothing so she had waited for her to elaborate.

Musashi had then proceeded to tell Indra that Sawada Tsunayoshi was Kohaku.

That of course, changed everything. 

She had immediately dispatched operatives and sent missives to any Hibari stationed in Italy. And sure enough, Timoteo Di Vongola was making plans that suggested he was going to be away from Vongola HQ in the following days. That in itself was suspicious. 

Vongola was going through one of the worst inheritance crises they had ever faced. The factions were questioning the Family’s choice for heir after Enrico Fermi’s failure to gather a full set of guardians, Massimo Ranieri’s attempted assassination, and Federico Ferrino almost getting himself and his guardians killed in a bout of stupidity. 

And yet, for some strange reason, Don Vongola was preparing to be away from his seat of power when he should be consolidating his heirs’ position and pacifying allies. Going where, nobody knew. All anyone could speculate was that whatever his reasons were, they were urgent. Not that anyone even knew that he was planning to leave in the first place.

She glanced at a report off to the side of her desk. Well anyone who didn’t have Irie Tomoko owe them a favour or two wouldn’t know. But Irie Tomoko just so happened to owe the Hibari family for letting her and her husband settle in Namimori without going through the usual procedures, and so Indra was able to confirm Musashi’s worst fears without much delay.

Timoteo di Vongola was indeed heading to Japan. 

And now the question was this: What should Indra do about it?

Of course, there was no question as to whether or not the Hibari should oppose the Vongola on the matter. The Sawada and the Hibari were the spiritual and martial pillars of Namimori, now related by blood. And their bloodline had now birthed a Kohaku, the first one since Kimiko-sama. Besides, even in the west, any unprovoked act that harmed a Kohaku was an aberration against nature, let alone an unaligned one, let alone a babe. And Don Vongola, it seemed, was coming to Namimori to do exactly that. 

She stood up, gathered her coat, and walked out, signalling for her secretary to follow her. So no, the question wasn’t about whether or not they would defend the Sawada, not when they were blood and duty, but how the clan would go about it.

And it wasn’t all about honour of course, oh no. She wasn’t some purehearted saint after all, and neither were her family. The Hibari had another reason to secure Sawada Tsunayoshi. A very important one.

Namimori was a sanctuary town, and had been so since its inception. The first thing Hibari Kimiko had done after re-establishing the settlement in Mie was draw up the contracts for non-interference. Those very same contracts are what allowed Namimori to exist without external meddling, even without accounting for the Hibari clan’s fighting prowess. 

And here lies their problem. Because fundamentally, Sanctuaries needed Kohaku, needed Harmony. Otherwise they wouldn't even qualify as sanctuaries in the eyes of Flame society. The contracts of neutrality and safe harbour, signed in flames by all involved parties, could not be maintained unless under the aegis of a Kohaku. 

Namimori hadn’t had a Kohaku in centuries. Not since their founder. 

If it was any other who held authority over the town other than the Hibari, the town would’ve been felled a long time ago.  But because it was the Hibari they were not only able to maintain their territory, but also find alternate solutions to sustain the contracts. 

One of those solutions had included forging a deal with the weakened imperial family to access Ise Jingu, in exchange for helping the imperial family gain some leverage against the shogunate. An agreement to allow the Hibari clan to attempt to harness the power of flames held in the sacred Yata mirror. After all, weren’t the fires of Kotei blessed by Amaterasu Ōmikami herself? And hadn’t Amaterasu herself told Ninigi-no-Mikoto, “Serve this mirror as my soul, just as you would serve me, with clean mind and body?"

Indeed, it truly did seem like Hibari Kimiko had foreseen Namimori’s long future without Harmony and knew that only a divine essence could sustain them.

The insane plan had somehow worked. And Namimori still stood, more than four hundred years later. 

But those contracts, which were already past their prime, had already started to decay. Indra knew that without action, they wouldn’t stand to see five hundred. Mirrors, no matter how holy, can only reflect the sky after all. 

But now…now they had Tsunayoshi. Now they had the actual thing. A sharp smile graced her lips. She had no faith in the mercy of the heavens. What she did have faith in however, was their favour. And it seemed like Namimori had Amaterasu Omikami’s, as she had seen it fit to grant them a Kohaku just in time. And Vongola was coming, not just to spit on all of Namimori’s neutrality and sanctuary contracts, signed in the blood of their honourable ancestress, but also to rob them of the Kohaku that could rejuvenate their Harmony. 

How fucking impudent. 

Indra stopped by one of the windows in the corridor that looked out into Namimori. The sun was to rise within the hour. For now the town slept on, silent as the dead with only cicadas defying the hour. Indra thought of the people of Namimori, sleeping in their beds unaware that the time to answer their oaths was fast approaching. All of them, both of the Fire and not, had pledged allegiance to Namimori all those years ago, to defend it with fire and blood. Even those original oaths still stay within their descendents Flames, waiting to be claimed one day. 

Till this day, they’d never had to. And now, it would be her who would give the word.

She scoffed in derision. Of all people.

Indra was a daughter-in-law from a foreign branch, her mother an aristocrat from a martial clan from Southern India. Amba of Vanchi had only deigned to give Wu Chengzi a babe when he had bent the knee to her. Indra herself had given her husband Kyoya only after being promised the honour that was her due. And recently, she had even thought of leaving Namimori now that Kyoya and Tetsuya were ready to support each other. Had Tsunayoshi not existed, Indra leaving the waning Namimori to her son would not have been remiss of her, for there would have been no solution even if she had remained. Her son would just have had to discipline the town and forge his own way forward like many Hibari before him. But now that a solution existed, it would be irresponsible of her to leave without securing her son a stronger seat of power. 

Still…Of all the Hibari that had lived and bled for this town, wasn’t it a twist of fate that it was a half-breed daughter-in-law that would have the honour of calling up on Namimori’s oaths? Of asking Namimori to show fealty to centuries old vows?

There truly was no difference between the wrath of the gods and their regard.

She huffed. Well, never let it be said that Amba’s daughter didn’t revel in vindication. And never let it be said that her blood wasn’t Hibari enough either.

Turning to her secretary, she ordered, “I’ve heard Iemitsu is out of town. Notify my sister-in-law that I will be making a visit to the shrine in the morning. After all, should I not see the face that will launch a thousand Flames?”

Tsuna was pretty sure his grandmother thought that his active flame core knocked a few baby screws loose in his baby head. And honestly he had nothing when it came to defending his sanity. That hope had died right around the time he had to name Xanxus of all people least destructive employee of the month that one time. And no that wasn’t a joke.

With insistent tugging down their bond and a flurry of feelings to accompany it, he somehow managed to convince his grandmother to take him closer to the damn tree. 

Carefully, he put his tiny hands on the bark and let his flames come loose, enveloping the tree and then seeping inwards. Tsuna was vaguely aware of his grandmother gasping in the background, but he didn’t do much more than sending a reassuring wave down to her.

If he was right…

If he was right, then…

He concentrated, allowing his Hyper Intuition to measure the amount of flames he could safely access and letting them completely suffuse the tree. As the flames went deeper and deeper, he started to feel for the very thing that might ensure his survival.

And then it started.

Echoes. Voices, feelings, and memories…spectres of them, started emerging from the bark. Some flew past him, while others collided in his mind, exploding into images of people long past. Brief glimpses of their lives, snippets of their voices, and above all, the remnants of their dying will. Slowly but surely, the onslaught submerged his mind under the roiling waves. Tsuna had to struggle against the current to regain himself. If he was anyone but Sawada Tsunayoshi, the once strongest link in the Tri-Ni-Sette Skies, his mind would’ve been swept away in the deluge before he could’ve even thought of doing anything.

Because that's what this was…a flood. Centuries of care by his family had given this tree a flame signature of its own, allowing it to retain echoes of his ancestors' wills much like how the first generation was once connected to the Vongola rings. It was much weaker of course, no ancient, disturbingly alive looking Sawada apparitions were going to spring forth anytime soon, and Tsuna wasn’t hoping for one either. No what he needed laid even deeper still. So disregarding the flurry of images being flung at him, Tsuna increased his flame output. This time, even though he could feel his grandma’s alarm as his temperature rose, he couldn’t spare a moment to reassure her. 

He searched and searched and searched, wading through a sea of memories and images and…

The shrine in its infancy. The tree being replanted, sun flames receding as it was lowered into the pit. A woman who looked exactly like Kyoya…looking straight at him.

Tsuna started. Flame impressions… weren’t supposed to do that, were they? 

She did not care for his confusion. She simply smirked. “Here at last, aren’t you, boy?”

A wave of her hand. An explosion of Sky flames. Tsuna’s own Sky was enveloped and dragged in.

When he came to, Tsuna was floating in space and barely had time to absorb what happened. Overwhelmed, he tried to orient his mind. It was only after he righted himself that he heard it, his intuition singing in victory.

For there it was. Right in front of him. In all its glory. 

A core. 

And it was fucking gigantic. 

‘Of fuck that would knock me out for a good year for sure’, Tsuna thought gaping in awe. 

It was perfect.

A baby giggle burst out of him but he was way too happy to feel mortified about it. That right there was his ticket out of this mess. And it was almost too easy. Except for whatever it was with that strange apparition. …Well, he’d sort out whatever it was with the Kyoya-esque flame impression when he wasn’t working on a deadline. For now, he had way more urgent things to manage.

He steadily started retreating from the core, making sure to leave the doors he had forced through open on the way out. Can’t risk losing sight of the damn thing now could he? When he finally managed to retract most of his flames from the tree, he immediately focused on cooling down. Tsuna frowned in displeasure at his overheated body.

‘That was dangerous’, he had to admit, ‘A little longer and I would’ve definitely gone over flame capacity.’

It truly was frustrating. His core was the same but because he was a baby, he could only access a fraction of it, if that. Several times he had had to force his mind to remember his physical limitations before he accidentally killed himself. Vongola wouldn't even have to lift a finger to get rid of him. He’d fry himself.

He sighed in displeasure. Something he would just have to get used to. 

He came back to the real world just in time to see his grandmother gawking at the tree she had probably known forever. Tsuna couldn’t blame her. Now that he’d streamlined its signature, the sakaki’s giant core was finally visible to flame users. Heat suffused the sir around the tree, its leaves trembling when the newly opened core let out a particularly joyful wave. Grandmother almost stumbled in shock when the wave caressed her, leaving behind the feeling of familiarity and recognition. Tsuna could feel her overwhelmed emotions, wonder, awe, and grief most of all. He wasn’t surprised when tears filled her eyes.

He turned away. 

The awe was understandable. After all, it was considered an irrefutable fact in flame societies that flame cores were the direct result of sapience. Cores were the manifestations of will first and foremost. Where there was no will, there was no way. Even flame weapons only have flame signatures at the end of the day. For all her life, Grandma must have only seen the tree as something that had acquired a flame signature after having been taken care of by generations of flame users. What he just did not only shook the foundations of flame society, but also her personal beliefs. 

In another world, Sawada Musashi would’ve been long dead and gone by the time neutral cores were discovered. 

It was not truly known if personality determined flame type or flame type determined personality, but what was undoubtedly certain was that if a sapient being had a flame core, they would definitely have a dominating flame type. So it follows that since sentient beings do not have a higher will to coalesce into a core, and also don’t have character, something which may be a crucial part in determining flame type, it would be impossible for them to have cores at all.

This theory would be thrown out the window with the discovery of neutral cores seven years into Tsuna’s reign as Decimo. 

Neutral cores were like neutron stars, as in extremely dense, and the alternative would’ve been exploding. A condensation of multiple flame types that stabilised itself without any one flame dominating, such cores could never be found in sapient flame holders, as their will would influence at least one flame type to come to the forefront. 

It would be years in the future when a mongolian researcher by the name of Altan Erdene would discover the presence of neutral cores in sentient beings, especially if they live in flame dense environments. He theorised that since such occurrences happen in flame rich areas, the formed cores would be found deep under years of flame impressions, making them almost impossible to discover unless you were specifically looking for them.

Tsuna was intimately familiar with the research paper. Reborn had almost had kittens when he had found out that no one in the Family other than Hayato had heard of the most important piece of flame research to be published in the century. And what do you know, once again, Reborn’s torture training was about to save his arse. 

Unfortunately there was no way his grandmother would ever believe he was a normal baby now. Before, he might have been able to get by as a once in a thousand years prodigal super baby, but now she would for sure know that wasn’t the case and something more was going on. 

Which was good in a way. It wasn’t like his grandmother would allow a normal infant to bind their flames to a freaking tree now was it? Life force and all you know?

He just…had to figure out how to tell her what he needed to do, and also somehow convince her that he wasn’t suicidal. All before Iemitsu came back. Joy.

Musashi fought the urge to fidget as the current Hibari Head stared at her incredulously. Indra was Kojiro’s younger brother’s wife, and Musashi had known her since she first came over from China as a bride, but she couldn’t say she had ever had a grasp on what the other woman was thinking. Oftentimes it even seemed like Indra stayed in Namimori solely for duty, showing none of the possessiveness Hibaris tended to display when it came to the town. Perhaps it was because she was from a foreign branch, or maybe it was because she was Yasuragi, which was as rare to see as Gen’ei in the Hibari bloodline.

Nonetheless she had always dispensed of her duty with sincerity, and so Musashi knew that the younger woman would hear her out, that she could trust her with this. 

That didn’t make her story anymore believable however. 

“So”, began her companion, “the tree…has a core?”

Musashi inwardly winced. “Yes.”

“And you were led to this miraculous discovery…by the baby?”, Indra asked, raising a disbelieving eyebrow.

Well when you put it like that, Musashi had to admit it was ridiculous. Gods above, even she hadn’t truly understood what had happened in the garden, even though hours had passed and the sun had risen for a new day. But that was indeed what had happened.

“Yes”, she replied as seriously as she could. 

Indra’s eyes flicked towards the adjoining room, where Musashi’s trusted maids were  looking after the sleeping Tsunayoshi. She took a fortifying sip of her tea. “Alright. The baby showed you a flame core in a tree. And considering that you showed me the core and I felt it, I am forced to believe this.”

This time, she looked left, her eyes finding the sakaki, clearly visible from the engawa they were sitting on. Whatever Tsunayoshi had done had caused the core to be revealed, surges of flame radiating from it nonstop. Musashi had put a seal on it to confine the surges to the garden. 

“The question now is…how, I suppose”, Indra said bemusedly. It was the first time Musashi had ever seen her stumped. The younger woman turned to her abruptly, eyes pondering. “I don’t suppose you have a theory, do you?”

And that was what Musashi was waiting for. With a wave of her hand she dismissed her aides, and with another she sealed off the engawa.

Indra did not look surprised. The way she checked the integrity of the barrier should’ve offended Musashi, had she not been a Hibari spouse for a good few decades. Though a little faith would’ve been appreciated. Musashi was among the strongest Gen'ei in the country after all. 

Once the Hibari was satisfied with the barrier, Musashi began to tentatively sound out the theory that had been rattling around her head since the…incident the day before. “I think…I think it was the Hyper-Intuition.”

Indra’s eyes narrowed and she leaned forward, intrigued. “How so?”

“I think…I think that because Tsunayoshi was born with an active core, that intuitive power of the Vongola…it activated alongside it…And it must be strong just like his Fire to be open at birth. It must have sensed the danger he was in…prompting Tsunayoshi into these…strange actions”, Musashi explained haltingly. She was gratified to see Indra pondering what she said carefully instead of denying it outright. Musashi herself did not know if her theory was right, but other than this, she had no other answer to Tsunayoshi’s inexplicable actions. 

Indra slowly circled the rim of her cup, Yasuragi subtly coating her finger. A regular thinking gesture of hers Musashi knew, something she only knew about because she was family. These little gestures were the only privilege a Hibari ever afforded their family, and it soothed Musashi to know she was still considered as such despite her shameful actions those years ago, grieving or not. 

“The Hyper Intuition that flows through Vongola blood is an extraordinarily acute sense of perception that grants a certain amount of predictive ability at best”. Indra’s eyes stared into Musashi’s. “It is not a power that could see through all no matter what they claim, and it is not something that allows a babe to discover flame cores where they shouldn’t be.”

Musashi absolutely agreed. She had unfortunately interacted with Iemitsu before he took off with her daughter after all, and when they had met all those years after their respective marriages, Sawada Ietsuna had told her that he had already known she wasn’t going to marry him long before she had known about the arrangement at all. She had seen Hyper Intuition in action. While it did act as an extremely powerful sixth sense, it was not quite precognitive like the Giglio Nero Donna’s ability, which was information Musashi wasn’t even supposed to know if it weren’t for that thrice-damned commission in ‘86-

So it made sense for Indra to raise the question. Anyone with the right information would’ve in her position. Musashi might just have the answer to this however, it's just that she hated where the answer came from.

“Kyuuto’s journals,”, and the Sawada could feel her nails leaving indents on her palm with the force of her clenching fists, “they had records of observations made by his side of the family over the years. They were as obsessed with our family prophecy and the role of Sawada Ieyasu’s blood in it as he was.” Musashi took a calming breath. “I learned something from them.”

“And what would that be?”

“The current Vongola Intuition might be an overpowered instinct, true, but Sawada Ieyasu’s definitely wasn’t. His was…truly the power that could see through all. It was as if the man could read minds, and predict things one might do years into the future. Vongola’s has been watered down, their bloodline traced from their Secondo. Tsunayoshi descends from Primo.”

“You think Tsunayoshi inherited Sawada Ieyasu’s Intuition? Even though Iemitsu certainly didn’t?” Indra asked, sceptical. 

“If Tsunayoshi is truly the subject of the prophecy, if he is the emperor that was promised to our line, then yes.”

“…”

“Born on a throne, as a tenth he will be.” 

The clan leader fell silent. 

It was some time later that she spoke. And when she did it was done very carefully. 

“If his Hyper Intuition is…puppeteering him in response to the danger he faces from the Vongola…why exactly did it lead you to…whatever is happening inside that tree?”

“If the barrage of images sent down our link is anything to go by, I believe he intends to bind himself to it.”

“...”

“...”

“...I see.”

“Yes.”

“...You know Musashi, I had been prepared to fight a war with the largest mafia family in the world just yesterday. But it seems like your grandson had already chosen his battlefield in advance, and it’ll be a very different war that I’d have to fight.”

“War nonetheless”, Musashi commented, lowering her barrier and signalling for her aides to enter.

“Yes”, confirmed her sister-in-law, “war nonetheless.”

Three days before the dreaded visit of Vongola Nono, Sawada Tsunayoshi managed to convince his grandmother that allowing him to bind his core to the sakaki was the best option available to him. He profusely thanked the pseudo-bond, as without the constant volley of certitude he kept up through it, she would never have agreed to his plan. While he had gathered from the talks between his grandmother and Kyoya’s mother-which he spent being unnervingly observed by the Kyoya clone- that the Hibari were willing to fight the Vongola, Tsunayoshi knew that it wasn’t truly feasible without compromising Namimori. And he did not want that. For that same reason he did not reveal to his grandmother that Iemitsu and Nono intended to put a suppression seal on him. Nothing could provoke war faster than an attack on a Sky after all. For now both Sawada Musashi and Hibari Indra had to remain ignorant of Vongola’s plans. He’ll probably tell them someday but that was not today.

Two days before Timoteo di Vongola was supposed to arrive in Japan, Sawada Iemitsu departed from Namimori to meet up with his superior in Tokyo. Prior to this he had already informed his wife and mother-in-law that his boss was in the country for business and that he would like to invite him over. A still bed-bound Nana thought it was a splendid idea. Though obviously not pleased, his mother-in-law did not object.

The day before Don Vongola stepped foot in Namimori, an elderly woman from Kyoto arrived in town. Ostensibly she was just visiting her old friend Musashi and to relive their apprentice priesthood days, when they had bonded over their parents naming them male names and forever confusing their instructors. Covertly, Azuma Maro was there to lend her own Gen’ei to her old friend and to supervise a core-to-core binding ritual, something she had expertise in as a flame scholar. In her left hand, she wore a peculiar horn-shaped ring.

The afternoon of that very same day, with a scant audience consisting of his grandmother, her friend, Hibari Indra, and a handful of their closest allies, Tsunayoshi Sawada bound his core to the sakaki under the cover of the illusion barrier the senior flame users had put over Namimori. Despite their experience and strength, the two women would struggle to maintain the dome shaped barrier as a swath of the purest flames they had ever felt projected upward, covering the entire town and dowsing it in Harmony so strong that some of the weaker flame active residents collapsed where they stood. With the powerful foundation of the sakaki’s centuries old ancient core, Tsuna was able to essentially throw his core into the flame pathways that the sakaki had established across Namimori over its very long life, effectively making it seem like he had no core whatsoever. 

At the same time as the Sky Flames raced through the sakaki’s old flame channels, a white haired man enjoying his miso ramen bowl in Rakurakuken almost choked to death on a fishcake in surprise. As he felt the gargantuan umbrella of Sky Flames descending on Namimori, intrigue overtook him. This was not something the man had ever foreseen happening. His eyebrows almost disappeared into his hairline when, not even five minutes after that, the ring on his right hand hummed slightly in resonance, and an equally impressive layer of mist flames descended upon Namimori, completely concealing the Sky Flames as if they never even existed. 

‘What an interesting turn of events’, though the man. It looked like he would have to pay a visit to the Sawada household one of these days.

Back at the shrine, the weight of the neutral core finally became too much for Tsuna’s infant body, and with a final wave of reassurance, he slipped into what would become a year long coma. Only the vibrant vault of Kotei arching over Namimori prevented his grandmother from having a heart attack. 

That very same night Nana Sawada woke with a sense of balance she had been sorely missing.

The next day, while a spike in Nana’s blood pressure distracted the matriarch of the house, Timoteo di Vongola would hold an unresponsive Sawada Tsuanyoshi and would feel a gaping chasm where a core should be. He would conclude the unstable core collapsed in on itself and he wouldn’t need to do a suppression seal after all. 

He would do so anyway. 

Two days later Sawada Iemitsu would suggest that as Nana’s health was steadily worsening, it would be better if he took her to Italy and consulted some specialists there. There was no way she would be able to take care of Tsuna in her state, so it would be better if the baby remained back in Japan with his grandmother. 

With a destabilizing core barely held back at bay with Iemitsu’s Harmony, combined with an absent maternal flame bond between her and her baby, Nana was aloofly agreeable to the suggestion in a way new mothers generally don’t tend to be. Plus, it wouldn’t be safe for the baby in Italy anyway. 

‘He’s so fragile’, Nana thought distantly. ‘It wouldn’t be good for Tsuna to be so close to where Iemitsu’s enemies are. He’s safe here. Mother will look after him well.’

However when she truly saw Tsuna’s dull, doll-like state, for the first time Nana looked at Iemitsu with something other than love. Suspicion. And when she transferred Tsunayoshi to her mother the day of her departure, she did it with a sense of gravity that had Musashi shocked.

With an unreadable look at her mother, Sawada Nana would leave Namimori with her husband, and it would be more than a decade later when they would return.

Sawada Tsunayoshi would wake up nearly a year later, hide out for an extra five years, and pretend to wake up completely normal and flame negative at age seven. By then, the Sky flame dome would’ve become infamous among those who wanted to vanish, the information carefully disseminated by the Hibari, and Namimori would have become a very different town from the waning sanctuary of his first life. Tsuna would find himself unceremoniously titled as the Sky of Namimori, realize pretending to be flame negative was futile, and would proceed to just wing it. 

When Sawada Tsunayoshi turned 18, two visitors would arrive at the shrine.

Sawada Tsunashige and his tutor, the hitman Reborn. 

Let the games begin.

Chapter Text

Hey guys! Thank you all so much for the support and the love you showed this fic. Our next arc has begun and I hope y'all like that as well. Join me as Tsuna has to deal with increasing levels of bullshit. You can just check out the next work in the series or just click here. Happy reading!