Chapter Text
The Sicilian sky in July is always clear and bright. The sunlight dances across the vineyards that stretch to the horizon, creating a poetic scene typical of the Mediterranean. In the midst of this beautiful scene, an ancient yet equally magnificent castle stands - the Vongola Family Headquarters.
This was a place where history and modernity met. On the outside, the castle retained its classic Renaissance architecture with domes, marble columns, and sturdy stone walls that had withstood centuries. But inside, it housed the world’s most advanced technology: an impenetrable defense system, invisible surveillance cameras, biometric security, and a cutting-edge AI managing every operation.
Only a handful of outsiders knew just how powerful Vongola’s defense was — and even fewer dared to challenge it. But this morning, the system had been activated, not by enemies, but by two unexpected guests from a faraway past.
"Ouch..."
Giotto tried to sit up, his head still ringing from the shock. His body felt as if it had been run over by a carriage. Reaching up to touch his head, he felt a swelling bruise.
“Cozart? Where are you?” Giotto called out, his voice hoarse.
A pained groan answered nearby. “I’m here... What just happened?”
Giotto looked around, trying to get his bearings. They were in a large room with a high ceiling and marble floors. Light streamed in through tall windows, casting patterns of light and shadow on the floor. The place felt familiar — and yet strangely different.
“I’m not sure…” Giotto replied, standing up and offering Cozart a hand. “The last thing I remember, we were in the meeting room. You were showing me the Simon Ring, and then…”
“Freeze!” A cold voice cut in — Giotto’s instincts told him it was a woman. “You have entered a restricted area of the Vongola. Move, and you will be neutralized immediately.”
Giotto and Cozart froze, eyes darting around. From all directions, modern weapons emerged from the walls, aimed straight at them. Red laser scanners swept across their bodies, seemingly analyzing them.
“Vongola?” Giotto muttered, confused. “But this is my home…”
“Don’t move!” Cozart warned, eyes locked on one of the guns. “I don’t think this is a joke.”
Suddenly, the room’s door burst open. A young man with orange-red hair and round glasses ran in, followed by a blond young man with shoulder-length hair and a scarf.
"Who was there?" Cozart heard the voice from across the room, but thankfully, they do not seem to recognize the two new visitors yet.
“Deactivate the system now!” the man with glasses ordered urgently. “Basil, help me disable the attack protocol!”
“Yes, Shouichi-san!” the blond man, so Basil, replied. He pulled a small device from his pocket and pressed a few buttons.
Instantly, the guns retracted into the walls, the red lasers vanished, and a robotic voice echoed: “Defense system deactivated. Please await intruder identity confirmation.”
Shouichi cautiously approached Giotto and Cozart, both curious and wary. “Who are you? And how did you get in here? The system can’t be wrong — I just maintained it three days ago, so there’s no way—”
Before Giotto could reply, Basil gasped, his face going pale as if he'd seen a ghost. “Shouichi-san… look at their faces.”
Shouichi leaned closer, and his eyes widened behind his glasses. “No way… You’re…”
“I am Giotto, founder of the Vongola,” Giotto said calmly but firmly. “And this is my friend, Cozart Simon. We don’t know where we are, or how we got here.”
A heavy silence fell over the room. Finally, Shouichi regained his composure. “Do you have anything to prove it? You have 30 seconds, or we’ll re-engage the defense system.”
“29…”
“28…”
Giotto and Cozart stared at each other in disbelief. Prove it? In his time, everyone in Sicily — maybe all of Italy — knew their faces. And neither of them carried any form of identification.
“Maybe… this?” Giotto raised his hands in a gesture of peace. On his right middle finger sat the original Vongola Ring.
This time, it was Shouichi and Basil’s turn to stare. They glanced from Giotto and Cozart’s faces to the ring. The original Vongola Ring — no one in the modern world could replicate it. There were no records of its full form, and only someone who inherited Primo’s will could awaken its true shape. Furthermore, it had existed publicly for less than a year before Vongola transitioned to the Gear version. The Simon Ring had only become known in the last five years, and most outside the Simon family didn’t even know what it looked like, let alone fake it.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Shouichi spoke. “If what you're saying is true, then you’ve traveled through time. This is still the Vongola Headquarters — but the year is 2024.”
“2024?” Giotto gasped, eyes wide. “We’ve traveled almost 200 years?”
“175 years, to be exact.” Cozart added, still trying to process. “But how…?”
“The ring,” Giotto whispered, his Hyper Intuition flaring. He looked down at his hand, where the Vongola Ring glowed faintly with an orange flame. “I wished… We wished to see the future of Vongola and Simon, how they would grow and cooperate.”
Basil and Shouichi exchanged glances, remaining their silence.
“So… that wish brought us here?” Cozart asked, still incredulous. His Simon Ring was glowing red.
“Seems so,” Shouichi nodded, scratching his chin. “I’m Irie Shouichi, a scientist working for Vongola Decimo. And this is Basil, head of CEDEF Italy branch.”
“Decimo?” Giotto raised an eyebrow. He caught right in the strange word. “There have been ten generations of Vongola Bosses?”
“Yes,” Basil replied, bowing respectfully. “And Vongola Decimo is currently in a meeting with the Simon Decimo. We must inform them of your presence.”
“Simon still exists?” Cozart asked, hope shining in his eyes. It is understandable, though, since in his time, Cozart had settled Simon in an unknown island, isolated from the world.
“Yes, your lineage still thrives, Simon Primo,” Basil smiled. “In fact, the two families have become close allies, especially after resolving some historical misunderstandings.”
“Historical misunderstandings?” Giotto and Cozart looked at each other, confused.
“That’s a long story, sir,” Shouichi interjected. “But first, we should bring you to meet Decimo. Please, follow me.”
As they stepped out, Giotto stumbled slightly. The shock of time travel still weighed on him. Cozart wasn’t faring much better, clutching his head with one hand, steadying himself with the wall.
“Are you alright, Vongola Primo?” Basil asked, rushing to help.
“I… I’m fine.” Giotto nodded, suppressing the dizziness. “It’s just… everything’s so sudden. One minute I was in the 19th century, now I’m in the 21st.”
“Quite the shock, isn’t it?” Shouichi chuckled, pulling out two small blue pills.
“These are Vongola's custom pain relievers. They’ll help you feel better.”
Giotto and Cozart eyed the pills suspiciously. Who carried medicine on them like that?
“Don’t worry,” Shouichi reassured. “They’re perfectly safe. If we meant you harm, the defense system would’ve done that already. Besides, Vongola’s had experience with time travel before. I carry these just in case.”
“And they’re lab-tested.” Basil added.
After a brief hesitation, Giotto and Cozart accepted the pills. Basil handed them water, and they took the medication. Almost instantly, the headaches eased and their minds cleared.
“Incredible.” Cozart murmured, amazed by the medicine’s effect.
“Medical progress,” Shouichi smiled, leading them down the hallway.
“One of the biggest changes in the last 200 years. But you’ll see — there’s much more.”
As they walked to the meeting room, Giotto and Cozart marveled at the blend of past and future. The halls retained the Renaissance elegance of the 18th–19th centuries but were filled with unfamiliar technology. Light shone from transparent crystal bulbs — not candles or oil lamps. Everything felt half-strange, half-familiar.
Eventually, they arrived before a large oak door bearing the intricately carved Vongola emblem — a clam shell with wings and guns.
“This is the Main Meeting Room,” Shouichi explained. “Vongola Decimo is inside with Simon Decimo. I’ll announce us before we enter.”
He pulled out a small device and pressed a button. A screen lit up, revealing a young man with brown hair.
“Shouichi-kun, what’s going on?” the man asked, concern in his voice. “The system just triggered an alert.”
“Sawada-dono,” Basil spoke up. “We have a rather… special situation. I believe you should prepare to meet two very important guests.”
“Important guests?” another voice chimed in off-screen. “Who, Tsuna?”
“I don’t know either, Enma,” the brown-haired man — Tsuna — replied, turning back to the screen. “Where are you?”
“We’re just outside the meeting room,” Shouichi answered. “Tsuna-kun, please brace yourself. This situation... meeting is... highly unusual.”
Tsuna raised an eyebrow at how Shouichi stuttered but nodded. “Alright, come on in.”
When the screen turned off, Shouichi turned to Giotto and Cozart with a smile. “Are you ready to meet your descendants?”
Giotto took a deep breath and nodded. “I’m ready. I wished to see the future of Vongola. And now I’m here.”
Cozart clapped a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “We’ll face this together, like we always have.”
Shouichi nodded and opened the meeting room doors. It was a historic moment — when the past and present of two powerful families would meet.
As Tsuna and Enma saw Giotto and Cozart at the doorway, they instinctively straightened up on the large sofa in the corner of the room, eyes wide in disbelief.
“No freaking way…” Tsuna whispered, barely believing his eyes. “Vongola Primo? And Simon Primo?”
“Buongiorno,” Giotto smiled, trying to stay calm though his heart pounded so loud he can assure that the two men behind him can hear it clearly. “We... err, come from the past and are very glad to meet our descendants.”
Tsuna and Enma stared, then looked at each other in shock. Finally, Tsuna composed himself and stepped forward, offering his hand.
“Sawada Tsunayoshi, Vongola Decimo,” he introduced warmly — his voice oddly reminiscent of Giotto’s younger self. “This is a tremendous honor, Primo. We have many questions, but first, please consider this place your home. After all, it is your home.”
“Kozato Enma,” the red-haired youth shook Cozart’s hand, still wide-eyed. “I… I can’t believe I’m seeing you in person.”
Giotto looked at Tsuna and smiled. There was something about this young man — a warmth, a quiet strength — that reminded him of himself in his youth. “Looks like we have much to talk about. How did a Japanese man become the head of an Italian family?”
Tsuna chuckled, scratching his head sheepishly. “That’s a long story, Primo. A very long one.”
“And we’ve got time to hear it,” Cozart said, eyes curious. “We really want to know what became of our families after all these years.”
“And just call me Giotto,” the blond man smiled. “We’re family — no need for formalities.”
“In that case,” Tsuna grinned, “where should we begin?” He turned to Basil and Shouichi. “Notify my Guardians. They’ll rearrange their schedules and return to headquarters to meet our very special guests.”
Giotto and Cozart sat down on the sofa beside Tsuna and Enma, ready to step into a future full of surprises and opportunities. This was a rare chance to witness their legacy — to understand the impact of the choices that shaped history.
And somehow, Giotto had a feeling the coming days would be among the most unforgettable of his life.