Hayato sidled up to him and offered him a book.

Tsuna took in the closed expression on his Storm's face, then accepted the book. The cover read: Tales of Beedle the Bard.

His brow went up in question, and Hayato promptly said, "Read the Tale of the Three Brothers. I think you'll find it interesting." With that he slipped away, clearly unwilling to explain further.

Tsuna pouted, got himself a cup of tea, and settled in to read. The tale itself was not a long one, but his brows started to rise shortly in, and by the time he was done he was nearly gawking. He had acquired three items which could easily pass for the artifacts mentioned in the tale. Tucked into the book at the conclusion of the tale was an article from the Quibbler, discussing the Deathly Hallows and the dubious delights of the title of Master of Death, held by whoever was (un)lucky enough to obtain all three parts.

The ring stood out most, for its alleged properties. Being able to call back the dead? Not for real, not in body, but to be able to speak with them?

Tsuna declared a meeting over dinner that night and explained about the tale.

Hayato already knew, as he was the one who found the book, and was also the one who snaffled the old goat's wand to keep it from souvenir hunters. He had also clearly seen the symbol etched into the stone of that ring taken from the Gaunt shack. And they all knew of the cloak that Harry Potter had received as a "gift" from a "mysterious" benefactor.

It was Mukuro who openly voiced what Hayato had been driving at and Tsuna had come to realize. "The stone," he said. "We could use it to call Giotto and get him to divulge how the ring was blood-locked?"

Tsuna nodded. "Yes? No? Decide at a later date?"

After a thoughtful pause wherein everyone ate or drank, heads started nodding agreement.

"Let's try it," Daemon said. "While I don't particularly want to think about what a worst case scenario could be, I am very interested to know if the stone functions and could give us the answers to a long debated issue."

With no dissent, Tsuna nodded again. "After dinner."

They settled into various chairs and sofas in the sitting room of the apartment. Tsuna pulled a silk bag out of storage and tipped the stone out onto a piece of parchment (which rested on a square of aluminum) that had been treated to discolour if there were toxic or noxious substances on the whatever was placed atop it.

There was no reaction.

Hayato, Mukuro, and Chikusa hit the thing with a battery of detection spells, and those also came up negative.

"I guess the original curse was on the ring itself, not the stone," Ken commented.

Tsuna reached out a bit hesitantly and picked up the stone. The symbol was inside the stone, like a strange confluence of occlusions to form the triangle-line-circle symbol of the Deathly Hallows. He turned it, trying to get a better look, several times, and then nearly dropped the thing when Giotto appeared in a form that was neither ghost nor flesh, but rather something in between.

Giotto stared at him, a look of confusion on his features, features so very similar to Tsuna's natural ones. Then he spotted not one but three Daemon Spades, and appeared to be struck with a blinding pain behind one eye given the way it started twitching uncontrollably.

"Giotto," Tsuna said quietly.

The not-ghost's head snapped around silently. "Who—no, wait." His voice echoed strangely. "You don't look right, but I can see who you are, underneath. Why have you called me?"

"We have, too many times, lived lives where all blood members of the Vongola were killed. The blood-lock on the Sky Ring doomed the world. We would like to know how you placed it, and how to remove it. For that knowledge to be, at the very least, placed with those who could husband that knowledge."

Giotto continued to look confused. "Husband that knowledge?"

"The Vindice," he said. "They already carry many secrets and are probably the most impartial body in the mafia world. You, Ricardo, or the both of you together, took a piece of the Tri-ni-sette and locked it down. If the blood of Vongola is lost, the ring cannot be worn, and therefore cannot serve its purpose. It dooms the world."

"It's not…" Giotto looked deeply conflicted. "It's not a blood-lock."

Various faces expressed skepticism and surprise.

Tsuna's brow went up in a silent demand. "Then what is it?"

"It's us," Giotto said. "We're … a part of the ring. It's… How can I put this? A part of each of us is in that ring, like a price? A payment? When someone new puts on that ring, we judge them. But we only know what we know because when the ring is worn by a valid holder, we learn things. The part of us in that ring… It's like an echo, of sorts. We—they—learn about the current state of the family, the blood, but…"

"So you and the other dons imprinted in that ring have no real concept of the outside world," he stated, "just who is eligible and some information about their characters? I remember the one life where I wore that ring, a strange sensation that passed quickly, but that was it. So you would have no knowledge of, say, a bastard heir, not unless the current holder knew of their birthright."

Giotto nodded. "Well, we can sense if they're of the blood, but without previous knowledge, we would have to, er, sense a lot harder. And what do you mean by 'that life'?"

"I remember my past lives," he said simply.

Giotto looked almost offended. As a staunch Catholic that rather made sense. "I don't understand what you mean by Tri-ni-sette," he said, pronouncing the term slowly.

Tsuna sighed. "Of course you don't," he muttered. As if Checker Face would have bothered to explain the significance. He kept all his cards close to his chest, unless it was during a moment of monologuing at a person shortly to be murdered by his own hand.

Ten minutes later Giotto was more or less enlightened, and subsequently horrified. "There isn't anything you can really do, though. I can't say with any certainty if the imprints are even capable of independent thought. You could try getting your hands on the ring and, er, talking to them? But they would test you, to see if you were qualified to fully inherit the power of the ring, and quite likely bond it to you, which would mean you'd become the Vongola leader."

Tsuna heaved another sigh and shook his head in annoyance.

"This is starting to hurt, by the way."

"Huh?"

"It hurts, being here for so long," Giotto said. "The dead aren't meant to cross over like this."

"All right. Thank you for what you've been able to tell us." He had no idea how to release Giotto and went the simple expedient of enacting his will, much as they could do with magic or flames. Moments later Giotto vanished, presumably back to the afterlife.

"Well, shit," he said. The stone went back into the labeled silk bag, it was tied off, and tossed back into storage.

"We clearly made some inaccurate assumptions," Daemon said unhappily. "And in this life our only option is to go as we have been, ensuring that there are plenty of Vongola blood."

"How the hell did they get the half-rings to do the same check?" Hayato asked.

"Perhaps a form of sympathetic magic?" Chikusa hazarded. "Or soul magic, as the case may be."

Sin squeezed his hand in sympathy.

"You know the sad part in all this?"

"What?" Hayato obligingly asked.

"Checkers killed me that one time and said it was all my fault that the world was doomed. But in the end? It was him—or his people—who made the damn ring work the way it does. I exposed more of a flaw than I realized, it seems."

— — —

It was pissing rain the next time Reborn arrived. He somehow managed to make dashing through the rain look elegant, despite his tiny size and haste. He did not, surprisingly, make straight for the guns after removing his hat long enough to shake off the water out the door, but rather stood there looking at the expanse of floor between him and the counter.

Tsuna's brow went up at the sight, then fetched a spare kitchen towel from the rail and walked it over to the Sun. "Here," he said. "And don't worry about water on the floor, Ki-san. Perhaps we should invest in a roll-out carpet for days like this?"

Reborn accepted the towel and gave himself a once-over to remove the worst effects of the rain, then offered it back. Tsuna lobbed it across the room, subtly employing Earth Flames to ensure it landed in the used towels bin, then watched as Reborn trotted over to the counter.

He followed and stepped behind, his serene smile sliding into place. "Could I interest you in some hot tea, Ki-san? It seems just the thing for a day like this."

Reborn's nose scrunched up, though he nodded. "A serving of tiramisu to go with it."

Tsuna ignored the failure to adhere to common courtesy with the lack of a "please" and set to work getting the order ready after saying, "Please be seated. I will have it ready momentarily." A few minutes later he delivered a pot of tea, a cup, and a scrumptious-looking ramekin of tiramisu. "Let me know if you need anything else, Ki-san," he said before returning to his table to finish conquering his crossword puzzle.

He was amused a bit later when the Kokuyo trio returned from a visit to the cinema and served themselves; Reborn looked affronted by the whole thing. The trio slid into seats at his table and Chikusa said, "I think you would like the film, Heul."

"What did you go see?" he asked, setting his pencil down.

"Dirty Rotten Scoundrels," Mukuro said with a smirk. "Of course, anything with Michael Caine in it is generally a reason to watch."

He hummed. "I shall have to make time for that, then. Anything that makes you smirk so is bound to be amusing."

"We can watch Samsara while you're out," Ken assured him.

"I will have to see if Sin would like to join me, then." A cough had him looking to the side; Reborn was there, looking impatient.

Another spirited haggling session ensued, and Reborn trotted off into a lull in the storm with another gun, two servings of tiramisu, and a half dozen brownies.

"He's so much more guarded than Sin was," he said softly. "I get why, it's just…"

"Depressing."

"Yeah. What time is the wedding due to start?"

"Two o'clock. Gives them time to do the ceremony, the photograph session while the guests are transferring to the reception area, and then spend the rest of the day having a party and showing off how much money they blew on clothes, food, and alcohol."

Tsuna rolled his eyes; he was not alone in that. "We'll just have to close up that afternoon. Or at noon. I want to be able to get the full picture, and that can't happen if we have to be keeping an eye on the store. People are going to think we're crazy if one of us starts laughing hysterically for no apparent reason."

"Like that hasn't happened before," Chikusa muttered, casting a quick glance at Mukuro.

Mukuro preened. He seemed to take being viewed as an axe-crazy murderer at times as something to be proud of.

— — —

"With the amount of pomp in that room it's a wonder they don't drown in their own egos," Sin commented.

The ceremony to join Enrico di Vongola with the busty blonde girl (Tsuna still hadn't caught her name) was being held in one of the buildings adjacent to the Iron Fort and consisted of a massive chapel with a matching great hall. The hall was normally used for parties and balls, which said something right there.

"This is why I am so opposed to huge weddings," he added. "All that money, down the drain! Sure, people are getting paid to do planning and flowers and everything else, but the prices are horrifically inflated, the cakes are usually a week old at that point, and all of it gets torn down the next day and thrown out. Too often it's all just an excuse to thumb your nose at the guests as a way to say, 'Neener neener. I have more money than God and can afford to burn piles of it on a whim.' "

His family nodded tolerantly. Some of them were looking a skosh revolted.

It was beautiful and in good taste, as far as that went, and Tsuna expected the display was meant to show how powerful Vongola was, how secure, and how magnanimous to their allies. The cooks at the Iron Fort were on overtime getting the feast ready and various dishes were being prepared with an almost militaristic assembly line of chefs, prep cooks, and so forth.

Several extra Suns in good standing had been stationed in the kitchen to sweep the ingredients, workers, and food regularly to ensure nothing inimical was slipped in during the quasi-confusion of bodies rushing everywhere.

It was a little known fact that Enrico had Lightning Flames in addition to his Sky. This was not reflected in the colours for the wedding, which was most definitely a good thing, as otherwise pumpkins might be brought to mind. Instead, the complementary colour used was blue, ostensibly to honor the bride's eyes, but mostly because it was a natural pairing with orange.

Enrico had been wired to only ever sleep with his lawfully wedded wife—not the girl specifically. People had been killed for less, and it was up to Vongola to keep the woman alive, healthy, and producing and nurturing babies. Should she end up having a tragic accident at the hands of a rival famiglia or a jealous and clever girl, Enrico would have to remarry in order to get his groove on again.

The girl had been similarly wired, just to keep things tidy.

Tsuna occasionally suffered twinges of doubt and guilt over the whole thing, but if Timoteo had simply been a decent father none of it would have been necessary. Tsuna could draw parallels to the Malfoy family except that Lucius had been taken out early and Draco was probably nothing like he would have been without that loss.

As the proceedings marched on Sin had to keep gently pinching or poking Tsuna so he didn't fall asleep, it was that boring. Finally it was over (the girl's name was Rosa) and the guests were all shuffled from the chapel to the great hall to leisurely get drinks and find their seats. The "happy" bride and groom were subjected to a barrage of photography before being released to change and join the guests.

"I desperately need a break," he said finally. "I'll be in the kitchen. Yell if anything interesting happens, like an assassination attempt."

— — —

"Interesting how you closed early on the fifth," Reborn said casually, then pointed at one of the clues in the crossword Tsuna was working on. "Surely you've figured that one out already," he said mockingly.

Tsuna smiled serenely. "Surely you have realized I have a method to how I go about these, Ki-san. As for the closing, there was a function we wished to witness." The idea that Reborn had coincidentally dropped by on exactly that day (when he had visited three days earlier already) was laughable. That he had and connected the dots was not.

"Really," Reborn drawled, helping himself to a cup of tea without bothering with the social niceties of asking first. "I am uncertain what a shopkeeper would find so interesting to witness as to close down early for the day."

"Naked midget wrestling competition, in tapioca pudding," he said a beat later, still smiling serenely.

Reborn scowled at him over his cup.

That was when Sin walked out to join them, minus his usual disguise.

Reborn's expression went so blank Tsuna was tempted to think the man had suffered a mental BSOD and was having troubles finding the right switch to hit so that a reboot could commence.

"Schatz," he greeted.

"I just pulled that last batch of pineapple tarts out of the oven, tesoro," Sin said, taking a seat. He poured himself a cup of tea and aimed an amused look at Reborn.

Now if only he had a local Fon to entice with them and bargain for tea leaves with. He had a lot of happy memories of λ9, what they called the Store World, and was grateful beyond measure that he and his treasure had been reunited a handful of lives later. "What do you think about lemon tarts? I found some really nice lemon curd the other day."

Sin hummed happily. "Definitely, though I wouldn't say no to you hand-making the curd. Things always taste better when you make them from scratch."

"What—the—fuck," Reborn said flatly.

Tsuna smiled. "Problem, Ki-san?"

"Who—the fuck—are you?" Reborn demanded, his gaze boring into Sin's.

"Are you sure you can handle the knowledge?" Sin asked lazily, a smirk hovering at the side of his mouth.

Reborn's hand twitched toward his Leon. "Explain," he demanded imperiously.

Sin turned to Tsuna. "Was I really this much of an entitlement queen in other dimensions?"

Tsuna laughed merrily and nodded. "The tendency is always there, Sin. You generally soften up a bit when you meet other mes. Rather like Kyo-chan around small animals, but not nearly as well pronounced or obvious."

"Explain," Reborn drawled, clearly nearing the end of his patience.

"I do believe he thinks he can handle it," Sin said to Tsuna, still smirking.

Tsuna nodded and aimed a serene smile at Reborn. "Ki-san, meet an alternate dimension version of yourself, one who was … cured. Released from that burden you carry. Others have been, too. We purposely lured you here in order to establish an acquaintance, so that you would vouch for us with the others, and so that we could take care of that thing chained around your neck. Checkers might be too lazy to find a better solution, one that does not require sacrificing our strongest, but I made it a life goal to figure out how to save you and those like you."

"…Alternate dimension."

He hummed. "I can show you."

"You're a Mist," Reborn objected.

"Amongst other things, yes. It's up to you, Ki-san. Are you willing to take a leap of faith? Or do we have to start with someone else? You are the de facto leader of your comrades. It would be much better coming from you, but if necessary, we will go to the Vindice and explain things to them. Trust me when I say they have always been eager to assist."

Reborn sought refuge in his tea for a few sips, his form uncharacteristically tense. "Fine."

"Please come upstairs, Ki-san," he said as Sin's Leon crawled out of hiding and up to rest of the man's shoulder.

Daemon appeared right on schedule and took over running the store, sending a slightly pitying glance at Reborn that thankfully the chibi did not notice.

Upstairs (Sin had brought along the pot of tea and cups) they took seats at the kitchen table and Reborn looked as if he was just shy of completely flipping out and committing mass murder.

Tsuna opened a windows to λ9 and λ10, looking for the gatherings specifically. It had finally registered in his brain at some point that he was capable of not only targeting a specific dimension he had already experienced, but a specific time period, which was why Sin was not much older than twenty when he was kidnapped and brought to their current dimension.

"Reborn, kora!" λ9-Colonnello shouted. "Where the fuck—!?"

Sin smirked and pointed at the local Reborn.

"Holy fuck, kora! How the hell—?" λ9-Colonnello shut up when λ9-Lal bitch-slapped the back of his head.

"Heul?"

A confused babble of loud voices made his head ache at the intensity of it all, but everyone settled down when Tsuna raised his hand in a bid for silence. "Thank you," he said. "We are presently six and five lives on from you guys and have established an acquaintance with the local Reborn. The year is 1998."

The local Reborn was having another quiet meltdown at the sight of two sets of his fellow Arcobaleno all in adult form.

The group from λ9 was in the middle of their annual meeting (despite no longer being Arcobaleno), the one that Sin had abruptly vanished from. The λ10 group was also having their annual meeting, the one that happened the same year as the party in which Tsuna had died another hilariously stupid death.

λ10-Reborn took control of his group and said, "Heul, it's good to see you again."

Tsuna sent him a fond look and nodded. "As you of λ9 can see, your Reborn is now … my Reborn—or rather, he's going by the name Sin, now."

Sin saluted. "Sorry, guys. I was dragged here by a magical artifact due to a tournament Heul got dragged into. It's complicated."

"…At least you didn't arrive there as a sentient mass of flames," λ9-Fon said weakly.

"There is that."

"So, once the local Reborn finishes all diagnostic checks and his brain reboots—" He ignored the bright green gun suddenly aimed at his head. "—we can get on with setting up the replacement system."

"Have you managed to make contact with Talbot yet?" λ10-Lal asked.

"Yes, but it's only now that we're in any position to move forward. We were given an additional complication here which prevented us from moving ahead immediately. I have copies of the schematics, plus one of the demonstration pieces. This is just the usual, showing the native Reborn that we're not a bunch of delusional crackpots trying to pull one over on him."

λ10-Reborn eyed him and said, "How old are you right now?"

"Eighteen. We're based in Pavia for the moment, but we'll be moving in the next few years to head off the usual idiocy of certain in-duh-viduals."

"Assuming you live so long," chorused a bunch of smart-asses.

"Bite me," he shot back automatically, then looked at the local Reborn. "Are you willing to be instrumental in—"

Reborn interrupted. "I want this damn thing off me. What do I need to do to make it happen?" he asked, his gaze switching restlessly between the various former Arcobaleno.

"You would need to help us wrangle the other Arcobaleno. They'll listen to you. I'm just some stranger until and unless I bring up windows like these to force the point home like I'm doing now. We can get Talbot on board, get the Vindice on board, and the stuff we need set up and in place, ready to go. But then we need the Arcobaleno to cooperate at that point."

"What about…" Reborn seemed unwilling to say either of the common names for Checker Face.

"Once we have everything in place and everyone else on board, then we get obnoxious and force Checkers to come deal with us. If the current Sky Arcobaleno has the usual powers ascribed to the ones from Giglio Nero and the Sky Mare ring, it should be simple at that point to convince him."

"Prescience."

Tsuna nodded. "In the case of λ10 it was Yuni, Aria's daughter. In λ9 it was Aria, because she hadn't quite yet passed on that burden, though Yuni was there as backup. Checkers agreed with that and the realization that even he won't live forever, and that at some point administration of the system will be out of his hands. It's far better placed in the hands of those who are functionally immortal and that no sane person would even dream of attacking."

"They're very protective of the installation," λ9-Verde said.

Tsuna nodded again. "On a side note, I have gifts~!"

People in both screens cheered and adopted eager, hungry expressions.

Tsuna started shifting goods to each group, making sure everyone got a little something of what they liked best, then looked at the native Reborn. "Any questions before I let them get back to their respective meetings?"

Reborn's gaze shifted around again, drinking in the sight of uncursed comrades, then shook his head. "I'm good."

"All right. I'm sure we'll talk again later at some point," Tsuna said to the windows. "Enjoy your gifts~!" Once everyone had had a chance to wave he packed the windows back into storage. "Once we have everything in place I was thinking you could call a meeting of the Arcobaleno. You might not be a Sky, but you're still more of a leader for them than anyone else."

"Doable. Who are you really?"

Tsuna shook his head. "Let's get this done first. Then we can get the local Verde up to speed on the way the others came up with to accelerate your growth back to a comfortable twenty, so none of you are stuck having to grow up and experience puberty again." He shuddered, having experienced it far too many times for sanity. "After that, we can kick back and explain better, such as who I am—or rather, who I usually am."

Reborn scowled at being denied, but was bribed with a piece of cake to let it go for the time being.

— — —

Talbot was happy enough to help (more bribery in the form of baked goods helped) and accepted a set of schematics plus a loan of the sample to work from. While he was doing that, Tsuna was dealing with the Vindice, who were not quite as easy to bribe, though a window opened to their counterparts smoothed the way to convincing them and, more importantly, Bermuda that Tsuna was fully on the level with his request and offer.

Once Talbot had a working model that Bermuda could see and examine, he agreed to pick out a cavern for the power plant that Tsuna would be paying for (with gold acquired from all those gullible pure-bloods). Samsara had already sourced what they'd need and were waiting for the final dimensions of the location to come in to ensure it would fit.

They were into 1999 before the geothermal power plant had been installed and was verified as working. The containers and particle accelerator were positioned, connected, and powered.

Then … came the Arcobaleno meeting. Aria was less than pleased to be called away from her power base to a meeting in Pavia, but she came, because it was her Uncle Reborn who asked it of her and the others.

"This is unorthodox," Aria said from her position at one of the tables. Her roaming gaze had taken in the entirety of the shop level plainly visible. The only reason she was not surrounded by members of Giglio Nero (they were all unhappily stationed nearby) was due to the Arcobaleno being there and perfectly capable of busting the caps of anyone who presumed to interfere.

Tsuna just smiled serenely and made sure everyone had food and drinks, then took a seat next to a disguised Sin. He was amused that his anchored disguises were more than enough to fool Viper, which was another point in favor for his theory of augmented souls.

Reborn openly sent out a wave of Sun Flames to check the food, mostly to show the newcomers that none of it was tampered with, then had a sip of his coffee before saying, "Unorthodox, yes, but also necessary if we want to be freed of this burden."

As expected, the noise level increased drastically as various short people kept trying to talk over the others in order to get some kind of answer out of Reborn.

"Maybe next time we should get it all set up, get Checkers on board, and then he can chivvy them all into place," he murmured to Sin, who gave his leg a squeeze in response.

"You," Aria said, looking at him.

"Is the tea not to your liking, Hana-san?"

She blinked in confusion.

"Don't mind him," Reborn said, "he's a troll."

Aria sent one of those uniquely female looks at the Sun before saying, "You are integral to all this," to Tsuna.

"Yes," he said simply. "I am the one who came up with the answer to the Arcobaleno Curse."

Her eyes bore into him, and suddenly she gained a look of surprised understanding. "I see now. So what it is we need to do?"

Tsuna blessed (to a degree, anyway) the Giglio Nero ability to see sideways. That she wore the Sky Mare ring only intensified her ability. "We need to convene at Vendicare, where the solution has already been set up. We will need to get Checkers there, since he'll have to be convinced. You, as a descendant of Sepira, should be more than enough to get him to listen to the explanation of how it works. Once he knows that, he should agree."

"I could see that happening," she said slowly, as the other Arcobaleno watched them like spectators at a tennis match. "How do you plan to get the attention of … him."

"By being obnoxious," he replied, feeling a sense of déjà vu. "I will write messages in the sky if that's what it takes." He had an idea where Checkers would be at later points on the calender, but he had no clue where the man was so early on. He bloody well would write messages in the sky over various points in various countries, keyed to what he remembered of Checker Face's flames, until the man came to investigate. Or use them to point the man at a dead drop with a more complete explanation and where to come find Tsuna.

Aria nodded. Given that she made no counter suggestions, it seemed her powers did not afford her the luxury of knowing where to find him.

"So, keep your calendars flexible."

"Do we just need to be present, or will we need to actively contribute in some way?" Verde asked.

"Actively contribute. The new containers will need to be primed with the correct flames each, in large enough quantity so that the particle accelerator can match or outpace the amount necessary to feed the system—or in Cloud terminology, propagate. Or in other terms, propagating the principle and making payments with the interest."

"We only have one Sky," Aria pointed out.

Tsuna smiled. "Irrelevant. A Cloud with good command of their flames can propagate what you produce for this and make up the difference."

Aria glanced at the violet and indigo Samsara logo and nodded. "All right. Will you let us all know when we need to assemble, Reborn?"

"Of course, bambina."

— — —

"So this is the place, huh," Reborn said, looking around the ground floor of the manor house which was conveniently located right next door (so to speak) to the house Sawada Iemitsu had been mind-fucked into purchasing for his adorable (airheaded) wife.

He hummed. "Let me show you to the room we reserved for you," he said, then led the blessedly uncursed Reborn up to a room with cream-coloured walls (rather like the foam in certain types of coffee), white trim, a dark hardwood floor, and gold brocade curtains. A vague head nod to Reborn being a Sun, but neutral enough for most any occupant.

Reborn left his suitcase on the luggage rack at the foot of the bed and followed Heul back to the kitchen.

"That," he said, pointing at the espresso machine, "is only here because of Sin. You're welcome to use it for your own coffee addiction during any visits."

Reborn looked very pleased at that and immediately went over to make himself a cup as Heul got out a plate of brownies and placed them on the table.

"So, this kid," Reborn said. "He's another you?"

"Right. The whole point of us being here is to ensure Teo-jiji and the Tsow do not seal the kid in fact. I don't care if they think they succeeded. We're pretty handy with Mist Flames, so it shouldn't be an issue to fake things."

"How did it even happen, originally?" Reborn settled in with his espresso and snaffled a brownie for himself.

"I have a vague memory—I'm not even sure it's real—that I fell out of a tree," he said. "If it did happen, I guess it was enough to make me fear for my life and my flames activated. I can't be sure. It's been too damn long at this point."

"And after that?"

He looked down at the table, trying to think back. "Actually, maybe that was the second time. I think the next one was Earth Flames, and I was careless? I think Nana saw me practicing. But that was it. After that I figured out ways to avoid being caught or tested."

He regaled Reborn with tales of a frightened, screaming child, so scared of that strange blond man who called him a "tuna fish" and grinned when the man laughed at the thought of it. He was explaining all about his deep friendship with the family bonsai tree when the others arrived and piled into the kitchen looking for food.

Sin came up behind him and leaned down to plant a kiss on his cheek. "Tesoro," he greeted, then went to get himself some coffee.

"So, let's go over the plan," Hayato said after he was set with a small pile of cookies.

"Our spying has shown us that the Tsow and Teo-jiji will be visiting next week, on the twelfth. Their current itinerary has them here for a week," Daemon reported. "Considering just how many potential candidates there are in line for heirship, this is probably nothing more than the Tsow wanting to show off his family to Teo-jiji, and for the old man to at least lay eyes on a potential heir."

"But we'll be on guard just in case it's more than that. Lord knows that Teo-jiji is like the worst kind of Slytherin."

"So, shifts?" he asked. "Six hours on? Preferably send them packing early so we're shot of them?"

His Mists grinned in unison.

"Sometimes I wonder if we're doing too much," he said quietly, his mood shifting suddenly to depression. "But we don't know what we're doing, even though we've done it so many times. I can't not prevent him being sealed. It'd be too much like a betrayal of self. If they don't try, ensure they think the child is functionally flameless or so weak that he would never activate them. If they do, well, we'll just fake them out."

"Considering you had a message waiting for you this time, we know some entity is directing all this," Chikusa said just as quietly.

Heul shrugged. "Anyway. Let's save the poor kid from being sealed. And, to change the subject, Estraneo update, please."

"Their plans have advanced. They're set to start experimenting on their own children within the next few weeks," Mukuro reported.

"And somehow … this isn't grounds for a major ass-kicking," he said. "Of course, if it were, we could openly take out certain people in Bovino, too." The temptation was there, to take out known defects, every time, to be some sort of parody of Giotto's original intent, a twisted form of superhero amongst the mafiosi. He once thought he knew the purpose, but that was another mistaken assumption. Once again he heaved a quiet sigh and resolved to just let it go, because until the purpose was made known, he was chasing nothing but vapor.

— — —

Iemitsu arrived in a splash of colour. Orange, white—he reminded Heul of a creamsicle—and that ridiculous jump suit, a pickaxe hanging at his side, and muddy boots. Heul sometimes wondered if those boots were constructed to have fake mud on them, but then realized Nana would likely send herself into a never-ending cleaning frenzy trying to fix the perceived problem.

"What's sad is, I bet Fūta would still rank those two as the number one loving couple in the mafia."

His family nodded in response.

"Shouldn't it be a criminal offense to be that delusional?" Chikusa asked.

Teo-jij was dressed as always. Armani, Gucci—Heul was not well enough acquainted with fashion to know, nor did he care enough to bother. He had a long, white, silk scarf around his neck, the ends dangling close to his knees, and a cane in one hand—his sceptre, disguised.

The Tsow was dancing around the room with Nana, both of them acting like fools, as Daemon and Mukuro watched from the fringes of Between. He could tell where they were, even through the windows, but not see them.

Mukuro was the one watching the Tsow like a bird of prey just waiting to stoop, to rip the man's laughing face right off his skull.

Sin squeezed his shoulder. "Some heavy thoughts there," he murmured.

He was twenty-five years old, the longest he had lived in any life. The very thought was frightening in a way. He exhaled as a laughing Nana dragged her husband into the kitchen and plied him with far too much food and alcohol.

He should be happy, not depressed or bitter or resentful. He had his dearly loved family, he had Sin, and he would save himself, again.

"Yes," he murmured back. "Not sure why now, but…"

Sin's breath ghosted over his neck and cheek. "I'll help you chase them away. Always."

Heul smiled and nodded, turning briefly to capture Sin's lips with his.

It was not until after the Tsow had sated (one of) his appetite(s) that any thought at all was given to young Tsuna, who was blithely ignoring the adults, upstairs in his room with a picture book, slowly sounding out the words in the most adorable way—and didn't Heul feel a bit odd gushing over how cute his child self was.

"You are so scrumptious as a child," Bael said, "all fluffy hair and big eyes and how on Earth did that man ever have anything to do with your creation."

"I prefer to consider it a Cosmic quirk," he replied.

The Tsow ripped the child away from his book, ignoring his cry of unhappiness, then proceeded to toss the child up over and over again, coming dangerously close to bashing the small head against the ceiling more than once. The child was caught again, hauled off downstairs and out the sliding door leading to the walled-in back yard, and tossed up again.

Heul watched with loathing bubbling up like acid as the Tsow missed.

Mukuro reacted by forcing Iemitsu to trip on his way to laughingly snatch the child up again. The Tsow went head first into the tree back there and knocked himself out. Heul didn't doubt for a second that his Mist ensured the man's unconsciousness.

Nana raced to her husband's side, fluttering in distress. She was too weak to do anything like drag or carry him into the house, and Teo-jiji was too dignified. The child used that as an excuse to escape and whisked off straight to the library on the other side of Namimori, one of Heul's windows following him.

"What are the odds that the Tsow would have traumatized the child so badly that he honestly feared for his life and burst into flames?" Ken said in a growly voice.

"Fuckin' tempted to go set off a bomb at the Iron Fort," Hayato said stiffly. "Something to draw them away. But I know that would only delay matters. These idiote need to get their eyeful first."

"And I'm starting to get a hankering for a little kin-slaying. Once again Enrico is old enough to take over, is at least half decently trained, and Teo-jiji clings to his power like a miser to his money. Maybe not death," he said. "An illness?"

Nana brought folding chairs out to where the Tsow was sprawled, then returned shortly thereafter with a small table and a tea tray. They sat and drank tea and chattered about utterly inconsequential things like neighborhood gossip, and Teo-jij maintained an interested and engaged look on his face that was so false it hurt.

The Tsow woke up a few minutes later, confused and possibly concussed. He fumbled his way into a folding chair and accepted a cup of tea. Nana, now that all was again right in her world, went back to chattering away. The men nodded at all the right times, Iemitsu's more spaced out than comprehending, until Nana jumped up, apologized, and dashed off to start preparing a meal, never mind that she had just fed her husband enough food for a small army less than an hour previous.

"Is it any wonder my original life was such a colossal fuck-up? Any thoughts on an appropriate illness?"

"Uncontrolled syphilis?"

"Leprosy?"

"Mad cow disease?"

"Shigellosis?"

Heul perked up. That one could be nasty in children and older people, sometimes resulting in an extended hospital stay, and complications were not unknown. It would be one way to put both men out of the picture for a while without necessarily killing them. "I like it," he said happily. "Make it so, my beloved family."

Bael cackled in unison with Xeul and the two of them went into a huddle.

Teo-jiji was giving the Tsow a tolerant look. In response Iemitsu smiled obliviously. Iemitsu and Nana were a match made in Hell, seriously. Little Tsuna was happily surrounded by books and had one open in front of him; he was back to slowly sounding out the words.

Out of sight, out of mind. It seemed to work just fine once his Mists tinkered and tampered and meddled. Heul was frustrated enough with the entire situation that he made sure the little one was out of the way and went in personally to play the role of child Tsuna.

An old favorite was pulled out of a metaphorical closet and, when Iemitsu accidentally laid eyes on his "adorable little tuna fish", Heul screamed his lungs out in an excellent show of hysterical terror before dashing away, cradling his elbow—the same one the local Tsuna bruised when he landed badly.

It took less than a day to drive the two men away after he shrugged on that role again.

The local Tsuna was just happy the weird, scary man was not infringing on his story time any longer.

— — —

Heul radiated happiness when he learned that the Tsow and Teo-jiji were laid up in the hospital with horrific diarrhea, abdominal cramps, not-quite-projectile vomiting, and, as a capper, an infection in their blood. Their kidneys weren't looking so hot, either.

"I love my family," Heul muttered as he worked on baking a cheesecake or six. Now that the idiots were out of the way, he could work on befriending the household next door, and whichever Mists were in the mood could ensure that those two men enjoyed a long stay at the hospital with sponge baths and bedpans.

Daemon slid onto a seat and gave him an understanding look. "Heul darling, we need to talk you back from the edge you're teetering on."

He looked up, surprised. "What are you talking about?"

"Heul," Daemon said softly. "You've been … depressed. This isn't like you, at all. You've angsted, for fuck's sake. So talk to me."

He sighed and opened another package of cream cheese. "I'm older than I've ever been. I'm just waiting for the other shoe to drop. I love you guys so much and I'm so happy we're a family, but I'm worried that when we do go that Sin won't come with us. I keep thinking about when it all falls apart again and we have to start over and I'm just tired."

"Let's take the next one off, then," Daemon said. "You know we'd never…"

"I know," he said softly. "This has been a very weird life."

— — —

Nana, of course, was delighted to make the acquaintance of the family next door, and didn't bat an eye over the fact that it consisted entirely of men. She accepted a cheesecake with a burble of happiness and invited them in. She had the self-preservation instincts of a dead duck.

Little Tsuna was a bit shy, but when Bael went over to help him read his book, the boy turned into sunshine and happiness and the precursor of charm that could and would net him a family of devoted guardians.

"Assuming he lives so long," was the unspoken thought, but with Bael there to keep an eye on the child, he should grow and prosper and live a decent or even good life.

Their manor now boasted three children, Mukuro, Chikusa, and Ken, protected and loved and taught. Tsuna was drawn into that group, carefully, slowly, tenderly. That there were numerous cats wandering around just made Tsuna more likely to want to come over.

It was understood by the children that the manor house belonged to Bael, that the others were just guesting there for a while. It was mostly in preparation for the time that they would leave, so that none of the boys would get too comfortable with the idea of them always being there, ready to teach, to answer questions, and guide.

Due to Timoteo's lingering illness he was forced to hand over the reins to Enrico. That sent one potential path down the drain. Tsuna could never be Decimo. Undicesimo was up for grabs, though.

The Tsow, being younger and in better overall health, recovered from his illness and went back to being the buffoon of CEDEF. Lal probably had even less patience for his idiocy, but it looked bad on a person's CV to have "murdered the boss in a fit of pique" on it.

"It is a shame," Sin commented on hearing that. "Most anyone who's had experience with him wants very much to torture and kill the man. Equally a shame is that most of those people work for Vongola, which makes it doubly an issue."

"I wonder what would happen if we ended up entering a world early enough that we could delay that conception by even a few seconds," Heul mused. "Would a completely different person be born?"

"Perhaps," Sin replied, "but then you wouldn't be born, and the world would be a poorer place."

"Mmmm, not true? I mean, after all, I'm sometimes born as someone else~!"

Sin smiled indulgently. "Yes, you are, but even then a Tsuna is born. And speaking of Tsuna, what do you think of the idea of warding that house with runes. An anchored Bounding Box is wonderful and Bael could be the one to do it, but runes don't just vanish when the person who carved them leaves."

"Huh," he said after a moment. "Excellent idea. We'll need to work out the runic scheme first, and then divert those two on a holiday or use Mist to prevent them from waking up while we work or anyone from noticing. Fire, flood, theft, enmity…" He hunted down a spare notebook and a pencil and got to work listing out the potential functions of the as yet theoretical wards.

He and Sin made an afternoon of it, though he had to fend off more than one suggestion to toss the notebook into storage and go have some fun.

— — —

Tsuna woke up to find himself reading documents at a table in a place he had no recollection of.

'Ah, sorry, Heul darling,' Daemon said. 'I woke up first and decided to hijack your body so I could figure out where we are.'

"And?" he asked, feeling a bit out of sorts and more than a little annoyed. His hands looked suspiciously like his proper ones and was clearly an adult.

It had been a normal enough day when it happened.

They had decided to take the children to an aquarium, to teach them about water life and sea life and water-related plant life, and basically try to slide in some education under the guise of having fun. (That was the proper way to teach the young, right? Trick them into it?)

It was just his luck.

Bael had taken up bathroom duty and was supervising the four boys. Heul and the rest had wandered into the tunnel so they could admire the swimmers to the sides and overhead, and how the corrupted light reflected oddly as it passed over the floor.

That was when a salaryman came in. He looked weary, almost defeated, in his standard grey suit, glasses, and sober tie. In one hand he carried the requisite briefcase and a cell phone peeked out of his pocket, squawking intermittently with incoming messages.

Heul paid the man no especial attention. You saw men like that every day in Japan, often with premature balding, and carrying an air of quiet desperation—or drunkenness and displaced ties if they had most recently been spending the evening with coworkers at the nearest bar.

What he did not expect, at all, was for his intuition to kick in just a tiny bit too late—which is what clued him in to his impending doom and soon to be state of "pushing up daisies"—as the salaryman made a furtive movement and followed up by hitting something on the screen of his phone.

The next thing Heul knew there was an explosion, he had a huge shard of glass (or whatever it was they used for the tunnel walls) sticking out of his jugular, and he was being nibbled on by piranhas.

'Well,' Daemon said, 'we appear to be in the United States, in a bunker set up by something called the Men of Letters.'

'What the fuck,' he heard Sin say flatly.

Tsuna heaved a sigh.

'You woke up shortly after I sat us down and found that,' Daemon finished.

An investigation (once Tsuna finished swearing under his breath in sixteen languages) revealed that they were in a world where the supernatural preyed on the natural, and the bunker they were in—how he got there was still unknown, especially as he appeared to be an adult Tsuna according to a look into a mirror in one of the bedrooms—was a safehouse for said Men of Letters, a place of research, and a place where hunters of the supernatural could get some information.

Why the door leading out of the compound was locked up tight he had no clue, because he did not seem to have a key to that door, nor did he figure he could have fit in through any of the narrow ventilation shafts.

The only food in the place was canned goods from the fifties, which did not bode well at all.

Tsuna pulled a granola bar out of storage to eat, had a butterbeer, then opened a window to the previous dimension in for-your-eyes-only mode.

Bael did a double-take and sighed. Flame writing went up a moment later: Catch me at the house in an hour, maybe two. The kids are understandably upset.

Tsuna nodded and closed the window, then slammed his hand against the nearby wall. "This is going to be a holiday, damn it. I don't care if the kami-damned apocalypse is scheduled to start next week! I am taking a fucking holiday."

'Motion carried!' Mukuro said.

"So, which shall we do first," he said, opening a window to his own mindscape so he could actually see his family. "Bodies or research?"

"Bodies," Ken said, "please. And food. We missed out on lunch, damn it!"

Tsuna chuckled to himself. "Any preferences on which country we hit for bodies?" While his family members bickered over that he opened a second window and acquired what he needed to toss together a few sandwiches and have a meal as opposed to a snack. After that, as he was waiting out the time until he could contact Bael again, he set to poking around the massive library.

Two hours later he had a cross-dimensional window open, at the manor house, and Bael was giving him an exasperated look.

"I eased them off into a nightmare-free nap," Bael said. "Seriously? The powers that be couldn't have waited until the kids were not in any way involved? I'll probably be dealing with nightmares for the next six months."

Tsuna gave him a helpless, crooked smile. "We seem to have ended up in the United States this time and, as you can see, I am myself … somehow. Will you let Reborn know what happened?"

"Yes, of course. I still expect regular deliveries of your divine cooking, Heul," Bael said sternly, his eyes promising a reign of Hell on Earth if he was deprived.

"You'll get them," he promised. After they signed off he said, "Have you guys decided on a country yet?"

"Japan," was the consensus.

"All right, then. Let's go hunting for some hopefully flame-bearing defects."

—fin—