Ages

Reborn - 21

Lal Mirch - 25

Colonello - 19

Warning: mentions of sexual activity and violence

xxxxxxx

"Fancy meeting you here."

Lal gracefully slides into the vacant bar seat next to Reborn who is nursing his fourth whiskey. It's been a long night for him, so no one can fault him for seeking the numbing refuge of alcohol.

The bar itself is rather empty. There are only three other patrons still around. The band for the night left hours ago leaving only the muted snoring of a man passed on in a booth and the off and on pouring of alcohol on tap. It is rather baffling - in a business perspective - as to why the bar was even open at this hour. It can't be profitable. Then again Reborn isn't complaining. That is why Reborn likes this bar. Perfect for solitary nights after a late night hit. Emphasis on solitary.

Reborn glares at Lal who smugly orders another round for her and Reborn.

"What are you doing?" questions (accuses) Reborn.

"This bar fits you to a T, Reborn," Lal muses, speaking over Reborn who bristles at being ignored. "Not surprising I'd find you here. Dimly lit for an aura of mystery, but once the lights are on full blast, every thing is a lot more clear cut than it may seem at first. Just a standard bar."

Reborn doesn't acknowledge Lal's cryptic analogy, preferring to direct his attention to his drink and long for his peace and quiet. He swirls the ice cubes in his empty shot glass, the tinkling of the movement amplified in the barren room.

Several minutes pass without another word exchanged between the two, during which the bar tender drops off two more drinks that Reborn gratefully swaps out for his empty one.

Eventually Lal's incessant gaze and another round of alcohol (Who is paying for this? At this point Reborn doesn't know and doesn't care.) wears down Reborn's already tired nerves. He sighs.

"Why are you here?"

Lal smirks proudly at her small victory before she reigns in her expression. She means business now.

"Why haven't you communicated with your soulmate?"

Reborn startles minutely at the question. No one should know. He hasn't said a word since his soulmmate's writing first manifested on his skin.

"What did I tell you about your false pretense of mystery? Once someone spends enough time around you, which I regrettably have -" Reborn kicks her bar stool. "-you are pretty easy to read. You should be happy by the monumental discovery that an idiot like you had a soul mate after all, but you've been nothing but mopey and miserable these two months."

"I don't mope," Reborn mumbles.

"Whatever inflates your ego," replies Lal, waving a hand dismissively at Reborn. "But that doesn't dismiss the fact that you've been nothing but miserable and short-tempered. You would've shot out Colonello's leg last week if I hadn't interfered, and you two never go past superficial wounds."

Reborn sneers at the unbidden memory bubbling up. "He is a nosy brat."

"Yes, but a well-intentioned one. You know he was just trying to distract you from whatever horrible mood you entrenched yourself in," Lal retorts, effectively shutting Reborn up.

The pair return to their drinks as silence envelops them.

Once again, Reborn is the one to break the quiet air. Just what did Lal order for him. He wouldn't put it past her for discreetly ordering something insanely strong enough to push him over his tolerance level, yet Reborn still finds his lips moving not quite under his will.

"They're a child." Reborn doesn't even need to explicitly name who "they" is for Lal to catch on.

"So is Colonello. Maybe not by the legal defintion or physically," Lal drifts off.

It takes all of his Reborn's willpower to refrain himself from slamming his head repeatedly into the bar. "God dammit, Lal. I don't need to know these details." Colonello is an immature 19 year old boy easily prone to quarrels in Reborn's eyes, and Reborn does not need any unnecessary information that may suggest more mature characteristics.

Lal just smiles neutrally, as if she didn't just creep out Reborn to his very core and continues, "Mentally though is another story. Which is why I haven't made my move-"

"Lal!" interjects Reborn, scandalized by the thought. The bar table is looking more attractive by the second.

"-to sponsor him for a promotion." Lal continues, her voice completely gleeful and sadistic and taunting. "What were you thinking, Reborn?"

Reborn actually slams his head into the table this time, mentally berating himself for getting caught up, but this is Lal and she takes to much pleasure from watching Reborn writhe in disgust and discomfort.

"This is all your fault," Reborn mumbles muffedly into the bar as he tries not to cringe while thinking about how many drunkards must have emptied their stomachs on the exact table Reborn's face is resting on.

"Is it really? Or perhaps your mind is just in the gutter?"

Reborn mutters a noise of protest but Lal pays no heed.

"This is exactly my point, Reborn. You are thinking much too far ahead. Ages ahead. You probably feel like a creeper at the moment, but no one is telling you two to get down and dirty right now."

Lal stops to shoot a deadly glare at Reborn.

"And that better not happen until they are at

least legal age. I know relationships aren't your thing but there are steps beyond flirting and sex. Such as getting to know a person." Lal pauses deliberately and shoots Reborn a look, for what, Reborn isn't sure. He isn't one to deny his flirtatious nature. Hell, that's how Lal and he met in the first place and Reborn quickly learned that he barked up the wrong tree. So, what? But before Reborn can further analyze, Lal continues on.

"You are also making so many assumptions already. You don't even know what kind of soulmate bond yours is. Maybe this soulmmate relationship will just turn out as a platonic one instead of a romantic one. Regardless just give the kid a chance. Talk or write for god's sake. The world won't end if you have a simple chat. I bet all my winnings off you and Colonello that the child is doing their best to get through to you."

Reborn winces, his hand immediately straying to his right forearm so covered in markings that one would think he had a tattoo sleeve.

Lal notices the movement and her face contorts to one of sadness and ... empathy.

Reborn picks up on the surprising feeling and raises a questioning eyebrow. In response, Lal begins.

"As you know Colonello and I have a five year age gap. I was one of those 'late-bloomers' - a stupid concept, by the way, because who is society to decide what is and isn't an acceptable age gap between soulmates - who didn't receive my first soulmmate markings until I was nine. I was ecstatic upon learning I wasn't alone so Colonello and I conversed frequently. When he turned 13, he confessed his desire to join the army - which I didn't find surprising given that his parents both met during their service. Colonello was so motivated even at so young. He was a child prodigy with the rifle. If anything I was excited at the prospect of sharing the same line of work, but never did I think it would pose a threat to our relationship.

I was placed temporarily as an instructor for new recruits while they searched for a more permanent one. To prepare, I looked over their profiles before training began. And guess what? Colonello's profile was smack dab at the top. Even now I wonder if it was all just a freak coincidence with the number of famiglias all out there, the possibility of Colonello and I both joining the elite forces was slim to none. In hindsight I should have known Colonello wouldn't settle for any force than the best. But I didn't and there it was, his profile on my desk. "

Lal's voice turns fond and her smile more relaxed.

"Sixteen - almost seventeen - and still wearing his stupid camoflauge bandana and his cheeky grin. Which was already a point against him because who smiles when applying for a position in Italy's special forces? Surely doesn't mimic the rough and tough attitude one would expect.

Then I realized how detrimental this freak coincidence and our relationship would be to Colonello. Me, his soulmate and his instructor in the COMSUBIN.

Guaranteed, Colonello would already be looked down just for his young age. So if, on top of that, people knew we were soulmates, Colonello would be at such a disadvantage. They woud think he just used his connections to get into the COMSUBIN. Maybe we could've just hid our relationship, but we both know Colonello, and discreet is a far cry from being a descriptor for him. If it came to be known later that we are soulmates, people would only attribute his inevitably fast climb in the ranks to our relationship.

I wasn't going to forfeit my position as instructor. Orders are orders. Besides, Colonello definitely wouldn't have approved me putting him above my job even if I had considered that option. And I sure as hell wasn't about to kick out Colonello. Not for how hard he worked to get recruited. So I did what I thought best. I stopped talking to him. Emails, texts, phone calls, and even messages on my arms. I wasn't planning the silence to be pernanent I just . . . never placed an ending date.

You couldn't imagine his face when I showed a couple weeks later to train him. Hurt. Betrayal. But I was stubborn. I interacted with him purely in the way an instructor and their student should. Colonello was persistent at first, trying to get me alone to talk, but when that didn't work, he wrote constantly, so much that I was finally grateful for the long sleeves of the COMSUBIN uniforms. I was so close to caving several times but eventually the writing stopped. I was in a way relieved by the break in the incessant writing, but at the same time, the absence left me feeling horrible and hollow.

Colonello rose in the ranks quickly. Finally after speeding through the rigorous training in two years, he officially joined COMSUBIN as a fighter. He even became the go-to-man whenever a mission required a sharpshooter. He made a name and reputation for himself all on his own. Then he approached me.

One day, Colonello came to my office and picked apart my entire ruse. He knew. Reborn, he knew. The entire time. Yet he stayed silent and played along two painfully long years later. I was scolded. Twenty-four years old, receiving a lecture from someone who wasn't even legally an adult. But I came to understand. I underestimated Colonello and our relationship. I did what I thought was best for Colonello and myself. But that's not how relationships work. There needs to be discussion and coming to mutual agreements.

So Reborn," Lal stares steely-eyed at Reborn, a look typically reserved for her targets, and he is reminded that the person in front of him is in one of Italy's toughest forces for a reason. "while you may say or think you will be completely fine without your soulmate, think that 'this is for the best' , there are two sides to a relationship, and you deciding for them without even having the decency to explain your situation or making an effort to get to know them is a coward's move. If I come to find out that you are still shutting your soulmate out when I return from China, you'll be six feet under ground and cursing your stubborn idiotic self for not only messing up your life but also someone else's."

Lal pushes herself away from the bar and heads to the bar exit, but not before sending Reborn a glare that shoots down any arguments that her threat is an empty one.

The door shuts behind her, leaving Reborn who visibly sags into his seat.

This is too much. All of this is too much right now. Partially inebriated and with a headache to boot, Reborn did not plan for his night out to end the way it did.

But Reborn can feel himself caving in to Lal. It's been a long twenty-one years for him. Even if he is known as "The World's Number One Hitman," he is human too. He longs for a connection. Longs to be completed.

Frustrated, Reborn scrubs at his face, eyes shutting reflexively. But as his eyelids close, images and memories bloom vividly in the darkness. Blood, death, pain, and loss. So much loss.

Reborn winces.

Garbled screams cut off by a sharp crack of the neck. Pleas of mercy ended by a single shot in the head.

Deathdeathdeathdeathdeath.

'Tell my husband I love him.'

CRASH

Reborn jumps out of his seat, his pupils blown out wide, his stance defensive, and his empty shot glass now shards on the floor. Slapping down a handful of bills that is most likely too much for a few rounds of alcohol, Reborn dashes outside into the chilly night, directionless and uncaring.

He can't give in. He won't give in.

Because... Reborn clutches at his own drawings as he sprints down the barren streets.

He can't save them all.

xxxxxxx

A/N:

Reborn probably seems a bit OOC in these chapters, but bear in mind that he's still young and still isn't an Arcobaleno. Anyways, I hope this chapter provided some insight to Reborn's actions. As always thanks for the lovely reviews. Comments and critiques are welcome and if you want to talk more or wish to enjoy multi-fandom stuff, you can always stop by my tumblr: xKeshire.

Thank you 3