2 Chapter 2

Tsuna has been feeling twitchy all day. His intuition is constantly buzzing. Not in the way it does when there's imminent danger, but more of a reminder that he's… vulnerable, at the moment. He watches everything he can as he mops the floor of the kitchen, his gaze constantly going to the door that leads to the bar. And perhaps he's lucky the bar isn't full enough for the others to need his help; he doesn't think he would be able to function with people around him.

He's forgotten his necklace. The one that hides his flames from prying people. He's not in Sicily or Naples, home of the mafia and most flame users, but he's close enough to be nervous.

"You're a Sky; that's enough reason you'll need to hide your nature."

His hands unconsciously fumble for the empty space around his neck as he gives another once over of the room.

An arm sets around his shoulders and the brief squeeze is enough to not make him jump out of his skin. "What's wrong, kid?"

Trying to calm his breathing, Tsuna looks up at Antonio-san, one of his coworkers. Not for the first time Tsuna's glad he's had Yamamoto as a friend because thanks to him he doesn't look uncomfortable with the easy display of affection Italians seem to like. Or at least not much. He still goes red whenever someone kisses him on the cheeks in greeting.

"Natsu?"

Tsuna blinks before attempting a smile. If the way Antonio raises an amused eyebrow is anything to go by, it comes out more than a little strained. "I'm fine, just, um… feeling a bit nostalgic, I guess."

He doesn't believe him, it seems. Or maybe he confused the words again. Italian is hard.

"Whatever, kiddo. Just tell me if you need anything. You've cleaned the same spot for five minutes already. Zaid's getting worried."

Tsuna blushes and glances at the bar to meet Zaid's concerned frown as he hands a cup of something to a client. He waves with a smile before returning his attention to Antonio-san. "Sorry."

"Don't worry. Though if you're really feeling nostalgic, there's a small, new place around the block that makes good Asian food, if you want."

Tsuna doesn't mention the place is a Chinese one and he's Japanese, the intention is clear. He nods. "Sure. I'm feeling too lazy to cook anyways."

With a pat on his back, Antonio goes back to the bar before the boss notices he's gone and left the new girl alone with Zaid to attend, not caring how few clients there are. Though he's glad Antonio approached him; he's feeling better. He thinks if Antonio was flame active, he'd be a Rain.

With a small, sad smile, he rubs absently at his neck before returning to work.

Chinese is not Japanese food, but maybe something more familiar will do him good. He remembers his mother making some Chinese food for I-pin.

Yeah, he'll go.

- x -

He doesn't know how he ended buying Mapu tofu when he's not fond of spicy food. He hasn't even tried it! However, despite the apparent love-hate relationship he has going on with his Intuition since coming to Italy, he trusts it. Perhaps it's one of the only things he truly trusts in this country. So he hopes this is the way of his intuition to atone for all the trouble it's making him suffer. Perhaps he'll even end up loving the Mapu!

(He's not that positive)

With a sigh, he touches his chest like he does whenever he feels lonely, just concentrating on that faint warmth where he can feel his friend's frozen flames; it reminds him that everything he's experienced was real. He's never truly paid attention before with all the commotion going on in his life, but here, alone, it's the only thing that grounds him.

A loud, pained scream startles him. The soft press of his hand against his chest turns into a fist. He looks from side to side but his brain doesn't recognize the place where he is. The walls are dark and grimy, barely keeping the cool autumn winds at bay, but the cold still remains, making him press his hands against each other to keep them warm.

As if splashed with a bucket of water, it comes to his realization that he's lost. He's walked with his eyes closed before with his intuition to guide him, so what just happened?

The sound of fighting echoed around the walls. The grunts and pained yelps becoming less while the gunshots turned more frequent. And Tsuna just wants to run away from it.

He doesn't though. His intuition tells him to stay. In the same way, it tells him to check for the milk before it expires and helps him choose which fruit is the best. The same way it directs him when he's lost and tells him to move when he's in danger.

In the same way, it made him grab a girl's arm so she wouldn't fall face down in the street and helped him find Mateo's mom.

Besides, this time it feels more… important, in a way.

There have been times his intuition has just led him to random people. People who the help they needed wasn't physical. Those were the anxious, the nervous; the ones whom he couldn't leave behind because he would always remember Yamamoto standing on the edge of the roof, needing someone to tell him everything will be fine, he was doing enough—he mattered.

(It reminds him of those first weeks trying to find his way in a place he didn't know, searching for ways to survive while not being able to rely on his own instincts, too on edge to be of help—his flames were too powerful for his body, too scorching hot all the time, but still not enough to hide the cold inside his chest, always heavy and oppressive, making him constantly search for some warmth to ease it)

Obviously, he couldn't go to try to offer comfort because he was a stranger to the people he met. It would be meaningless coming from him. It didn't stop him from trying to help, though.

So Tsuna provided a distraction for the ones too worried and tense, offered someone to talk to the ones who wanted it. He even had to use his harmony factor sometimes for the ones who just needed to clear their emotions—find their balance. It was excellent practice for his flames in their hidden state if nothing else.

So yeah, even with the cold dread he's feeling, Tsuna plans to continue walking until the sounds of flesh hitting flesh are around the corner. He stops there. His heart is loud in his ears, as is his breathing, but he doesn't move. He doesn't have that feeling of urgency he gets when someone is in danger so he's sure that whoever is beating those people doesn't need any help with that.

He should still check, just in case. The gunshots are getting desperate.

In quick, and hopefully silent steps, he reaches the corner and peeks, momentarily glad he's wearing a hat that hides his fluffy hair. He's sure that without it, he'd have gotten shot as soon as his mop of brown hair appeared in view. Thanks to the hat, he sees the back of a man wearing baggy pants and a closed dark red jacket with a fluffy fur-like-neck on its hoodie moving with deadly accuracy.

He's fighting over five men at the same time. With only his bare hands. And that's not counting the twenty-something men already on the ground, of course. However, his actions are almost lazy. Really graceful, but still lazy. As if he's taking his time only because he has nothing else to do, doesn't know what else to do.

Tsuna stares in morbid amazement the fluidity in his strikes. He seems so comfortable with his movements in a relaxed way that speaks of experience and talent. There's also an invisible, thrumming tension in his arms that reminds him of Gokudera.

He's a storm, Tsuna realizes. Fitting, too. His flames are simmering too close to his skin like a raging tempest, wanting to come out, singing through his body with an almost blinding pressure, building deeply, slowly inside him. It's as if the only thing needed for him to implode was a poke.

It's unsettling.

A man wearing a dark green raincoat falls onto some trash cans and proceeds to make hacking noises as if he wants to throw up his lungs or maybe move them back to their rightful place. He doesn't know.

What he does know is that the man in the center is now giving him his back and he has an extra gun inside his coat. The thing that he's trying to take out.

Something tells him that the man in the red jacket will not be in danger even if the gun goes off; it tells him he's capable of more. His brain and his body have never been truly coordinated, though. By the time he finishes listening to his brain, he's already knocking the man out with a well-aimed punch.

A punch covered in faint orange flames.

He looks at it for a second before a grunt makes him turn around to see a man on the floor. There's a foot resting on the person's chest, rendering him unable to breathe, apparently. His gaze goes up to the leg and the torso until it finally meets the face.

A very familiar face.

"Hibari-san?!"

The Hibari-look-alike blinks and looks up from Tsuna's hands. He looks startled, even though he probably knew Tsuna was spying since the moment he found himself in an unfamiliar alley.

There's a faint frown on his face that reminds Tsuna he's still staring. He mentally admonishes himself for doing that. Again. He stands up from where he's kneeling. His legs are not shaking like they would have been a year ago. He doesn't know if it means he's becoming stronger or more used to… these kinds of situations.

"Are you okay?" the guy asks, his fingers doing a small abortive motion, as if he wants to approach but knows it's not a good idea to do so. He hides his hands inside the large sleeves of his jacket. Perhaps because they're slightly bloody, unlike his pristine clothes. They're dark enough for Tsuna to know if the blood is seeping into them.

He doesn't look at his possibly bloody sleeves though, he chooses to glance down, at the pile of bodies scattered around the ground and inhales. He gives the man a shaky smile and a thumbs up with his now glowing hand. The man seems slightly amused at this. His head tilts a bit to the side and…

And Tsuna doesn't think he can call the man in front of him 'Hibari-look-alike' in his head anymore. It's good he's learned to hide his startled-small-animal looks and now can step down on those urges with little problem, he thinks, because, well… The guy is giving him a smile. A real one. All calm-like and gentle, maybe a little bit warm, too.

It's a nice smile. And it's scaring the hell out of him.

Because this person looks so much like Hibari-san! And it's so weird to see a normal, not blood-lusting smile on a face that so resembles the prefect's. He feels something akin to morbid fascination and he kind of wants to take a photo of this person smiling.

"Is there something on my face?"

Staring again. Damn it.

He shakes his head. "No, no! Your face's fine! You've got a nice smile is all."

The man seems more amused. "You look like you've just seen a ghost."

"You just remind me of someone I know. He doesn't smile much and it's just kind of weird seeing you…"

"Smile?"

He nods dumbly. He thinks he won't be able to think much if the man continues smiling.

"… I really want to take a photo of you," he murmurs, before realizing that he just said that out loud and flushing a deep red.

The man chuckles pleasantly. It makes a chill run down his spine. A cold chill. Is this what conditioning is? Has he experienced some kind of bizarre positive reinforcement, but in reverse? It doesn't help that they're surrounded by unconscious people. He's sure he'll faint if he catches sight of a tonfa.

"Does that mean you're okay? You look very weak. And frail."

Tsuna blinks at the man's words. He doesn't detect any mocking undertone. Or even a hint of condescension. He's just saying what he sees. It appears that the man is just that blunt.

"Eh, yeah, I guess? I'm fine. Um… what about you?"

The man smiles again but there's a hint of mirth in his expression like he knows the effect his smile has on him and it amuses him too much to stop.

"Perfect. A little hungry but I think that's my cue to get going. You should leave too. It won't take long for more people to come."

Tsuna doesn't know why he opens his mouth when he knows his intuition has put him in the backseat and is the one at the steering wheel, but he does. Before he knows it, he's signaling the place he left his take-out and mentioning he bought two orders of Mapu Tofu.

"—And there's a park around that corner we could… eat at," he ends slowly, not knowing where that came from as he doesn't even know where he is, but apparently his intuition does.

Maybe he should change the name of his Hyper Intuition to 'Know-it-all-alien-that-lives-inside-my-head'. He thinks it fitting.

Now the man is the one doing the staring, his face eerily blank if not for the faint smile that looks like his default setting. He seems to be how Yamamoto's and Hibari's lovechild would be like. Loveadult?

Why is he thinking about that? He's probably going to have nightmares later.

Tsuna really hopes the man refuses his intuition's invitation.

"It would be my pleasure," he answers instead, ignoring his mental pleading, with the same smile and a small bow to accompany it. He looks directly at him, eyes sharp. "I love Mapu Tofu."

His intuition is clearly having too much fun at his expense to be considered normal. Love-hate relationship, indeed.

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