Tsuna knew that there was something different today. And that scared him.

For one, he slept in. On a Saturday. With Reborn suspiciously missing for the rest of the morning. Though, he learned to fear when his tutor disappeared at odd moments because that was plenty of time for the other to plot. And the fedora-wearing infant plotting was not good for his soul. Or sanity. So, sue him if he flinched at loud noises, ready to run for his life at the slightest hint of movement towards his person.

Yamamoto and Gokudera joined him early on and even they noticed the absence of his tutor. It turned even odder when Bianchi, decked in goggles, asked Tsuna where Reborn could've been.

Considering that he'd only had to stop Lambo from blowing up the living room, prevented Gokudera from shoving a dynamite towards a cackling Yamamoto, and having his mother's precious brownies converted into poisonous abominations, he thought that without Reborn around to worsen the chaos, all had been pretty mild considering the madness that his life had been lately ever since Reborn had entered the picture.

(Life seemed to sharpen at odd moments despite the chaos. That was strange. His world had always been pretty muddled. Tsuna felt like his mind was always lagging behind a couple of minutes all the time, never catching up. The burst of color and warmth confused him. Because all his life, he had surrendered himself to the monotony.)

Still, what probably served to heighten his anxiety was that Reborn remained unseen the whole afternoon as well.

By the time dinner came around, Tsuna was a bundle of nerves waiting for that inevitable bomb his tutor was no doubt planning to spring on him.

"R-Reborn is certainly taking his time, isn't he?" He eventually stuttered out.

Nana paused from feeding Lambo as the toddler tended to eat messily and stared at them with surprise.

"Ara, he didn't tell you?" She tilted her head as their eyes snapped towards her in surprise. "We're going to be having a guest tonight. I've already cleared Papa's study to make room. After all, it's so rare for Reborn-chan to request something." She chirped rather delightedly as she turned back to Lambo to wipe off the rice grains on his cheeks.

No, he did not tell Tsuna about that guest. But he did fear for his sanity.

Though, his mother did have a point. The only thing Reborn had asked for himself from Nana was a daily serving of espresso. Other than that, all of his so-called requests had something to do with Tsuna's training one way or another. It suddenly dawned on him that the other took his tutoring more seriously than he'd realized. For the life of him, he didn't know if he was going to be terrified or reluctantly impressed at his dedication.

He settled for terrified.

When his tutor finally arrived, it was already past ten. His mother had already turned in for the night with Lambo. Bianchi had occupied the kitchen and from the mad giggling he could hear from the living room, he knew that he didn't want to be part of that. He should probably get some sleep before this guest could throw their craziness in his face. But the paranoia that had built up the whole day wouldn't let him.

It was strangely quiet as he sat by himself at the sofa, eyes fixated on the tv, airing the anime he'd always adored before the Vongola mess literally upended his otherwise dreary life. Tsuna, for all the chaos, couldn't remember the last time he had a peaceful moment like this to himself. What was worse was that he didn't know if he actually liked it.

(Because if it was too quiet, Tsuna would get lost in his head again. Everything would slow down and it was like trying to fill the silence with his screams that no one could hear.

Sometimes, he feared that he would get used to the void again–)

"Did you just waste the whole day away slacking off, Dame-Tsuna?" A wry squeaky voice sliced through his thoughts, startling a shriek out of him.

"R-Reborn!" He flailed before gravity worked its powers on him and he ended up sprawled on the floor on his back.

Tsuna had an upside-down view of his tutor. Bafflingly enough, his signature fedora was conspicuously absent, sending tufts of black spikes and curls sticking out rather haphazardly. Though, it took him a few embarrassing seconds to notice that his diminutive tutor was perched on a shoulder of a dark-haired teen. A couple of years older than him. With the greenest eyes that he'd ever seen (and that was saying a lot considering he knew Bianchi and Gokudera).

Reborn merely pulled the rim of the fedora down over the teen's eyes, as if trying to shield him from Tsuna's disaster self which was rather futile.

The other seemed to think so too as he slapped Reborn's hand away. Said hitman looked rather miffed but didn't shoot. Him. The trigger-happy baby for as long as he'd known him these past few months. Now he was justifiably afraid. For the teen or of the teen was still debatable.

"Stop that," was the snappish reply. "I'm here for a reason," The other grumbled, adjusting the fedora on his head.

"I think I like you better when you were a little tyke," Reborn rebuked, sounding annoyed.

He watched in frozen surprise as the teen huffed before crouching in front of him, reaching out a finger alight in orange fire towards his forehead and the déjà vu that followed shook him.

(Tsuna was so terrified, he wanted his mother. Instead, an old man was there, his presence was so soothing, so why was it suddenly so cold–)

"No one deserves to be locked away," The teen told him quietly. "This won't hurt you. I promise."

And as crazy as it sounded, Tsuna believed him.

(i)

Reborn refused the urge to scream bloody murder.

What he hated about contracts was the misinformation. In his line of work, especially an operation that required a delicate approach, information was his tool. Never would he let his arrogance take control again. There were a lot of things that he could've done better so then he wouldn't be trapped in the body of a thrice-damned toddler. That was all in the past though. He would've to talk to Shamal again, the mist barrier had obviously been wearing thin for the past few weeks and it was making him want to jump out of his own skin.

The dissociation was not doing wonders for his mental stability. Not that he'd been stellar at it from the very beginning.

Though, back to the situation at hand, he really abhorred that he didn't have all his facts straight. It simply meant that the situation was not under his control. Sometimes, it was manageable and he had always been adaptable. It just didn't mean that he had to like it.

In fact, the only reason he'd even taken this deal was due to a sighting of his fellow Arcobaleno, Verde. To be fair, the moment Reborn had known that the Lightning had been sighted here, he'd gone into an apoplectic rage and accepted the job on the spot. Back then, the specifics hadn't mattered because he was vying for blood and he would hunt down that fucking bastard and preferably skin him alive–

Deep breaths. He'd thought that he was already past that. One thing at a time. Besides, he felt the stirring of his pacifier. It might not have glowed to signal that he was close but he could feel him here. His mind practically purred.

It was supposed to be a simple hit. Apparently, Vernon Dursley had quite the debt from the underworld. It should've been basic. Make it look like an accident and painless, if he was feeling merciful. However, what he had not expected during his background check of the man was the human-trafficking ring going on under the guise of his company. People between the ages of six to twenty-five, all with latent flames, were being sold to other Famiglias. It also just so happened that he'd stumbled upon one of Grunnings' operations.

Not even Verde was stupid enough to touch the civilians.

This was clearly a violation of Omerta. To his apprehension, Reborn knew that the Vindice would have to get involved one way or another. No one in the mafia liked dealing with their enforcers and this inevitability gave the hitman a massive headache.

Though, a job was a job and he would never let this tarnish his perfect record due to unforeseen circumstances.

For such a daring piece of shit, Dursley had obviously not taken any effort in concealing his whereabouts or put up any kind of protection. Just showed how much of an idiot the man was. Reborn was feeling almost offended at having been sought out for this assignment. Any hitman worth their salt could easily kill this stupid pig. And the disgusting thing about the man was that he had a routine. Enough so that Reborn could put it together just by observing the house for a full week.

Not to mention, the people of this neighborhood.

One of the stipulations had been to make a statement.

Reborn was capable. More than capable. After all, he was the World's Greatest.

But, on the day that he was determined to act on his plan, he was faced with a predicament that he had not expected to encounter even on a normal day.

oOo

"Ssh!" The boy held up a finger to his lips as his eyes nervously flitted towards the window where the pig's wife had passed by.

Reborn raised an eyebrow.

Though, he had to wonder how the boy had sensed him. The other had merely opened the door to pick up the daily newspaper for his family when he'd suddenly headed straight out for the bushes where he spotted the hitman observing. Now, there was that itch again in his perception that he couldn't place. Been there since he started observing this house.

"And what are you doing?" He asked blandly and watched as the boy jumped at his voice.

"Aunt Petunia gets mad if other kids enter their garden," was the mulish declaration, even more curious that the boy, the pig's nephew, would use 'their' as if he was separate from the family. "And she screams really loud," He whispered, pursing his lips.

He scoffed. As if that would deter him. Not to mention, it was utterly ridiculous that he would be protected by a seven-year old child.

The moment he took a step forward, however, the other shifted. There was a nervous twitch to those small shoulders and green eyes stared unblinkingly at him. Huh. Had he misread the situation? Tilting his head, the boy's jaw jolted as if there were words that he wanted to say but had been used to holding them back. No doubt, a result from the abuse. It just further confirmed his resolve as to why scums like Dursley would be better off dead.

Still, Reborn could be patient. In his line of job, it was a necessity to learn. This was no different.

"Something to say, brat?" Reborn questioned mildly.

"Y-You can't go in there," The boy told him worriedly.

And it hadn't been until the other shifted again to block his view of the window that Reborn finally understood that he had it backwards.

His lips curved with amusement. One that stretched wider when the kid continued to stare at him with suspicion. What a perceptive little brat. And while he hadn't made any effort to appear beyond unassuming, the other had clearly been able to tell that there was something not quite right about him.

"Your concern is appreciated," He spoke as he took a step closer. "But unnecessary. I'm only here for Vernon Dursley. This doesn't have to involve you," He tried for reassuring but the boy flinched at the mention of his target.

"U-Uncle?"

There was fear, yes. The hope that stared back at him was not even out of place considering the man's role in his nephew's life.

It had been on a whim when Reborn decided to humor the kid.

"I'm the World's Greatest Hitman," He declared bluntly as the other's eyes widened. "Your uncle has crossed some dangerous people and I'm going to make an example out of him." His mouth twisted into a sharp grin, letting the boy feel a flicker of his scorching Sun flames.

A shiver.

"Hitman? Example?" were the murmured questions, wary and a little unsure.

"Believe me," Reborn sneered. "Considering what the alternative waiting for him is if he stays alive, killing that bastardo now will be an act of mercy." No one liked being dealt with by the Vindice. If it wasn't his reputation on the line, he would've been all too happy to just throw the man alongside the people of Grunnings under the bus.

Judging from how the boy paled, he knew that Reborn wasn't lying. Interesting.

There was always a reason why the other Arcobaleno didn't let him deal with children. Simply because Reborn didn't believe in censorship. When he'd been a child, he'd always resented the way adults treated him as if his age dictated his intelligence. Not to mention, he'd already been devious and had blood on his hands by then. So he gave everyone he met the benefit of the doubt and learned to never underestimate them. Whether they understood or not was up to them.

Of course, his curse to appear as a toddler only further supported his belief.

"W-What about Aunt Petunia? And Dudley?" The boy's lips quivered. Still, smart.

"Untouched," He tried to inject as much promise as he could into his voice. After all, he'd already deduced that the pig's family were merely civilians with no connection to the man's illegal activities.

Frankly speaking, he had no idea why he was trying to reassure this brat in the first place. He could've simply stepped around the boy and be done with it. Still, there was still something about this interaction that was starting to make his hair stand on end. To his surprise, the boy eventually stepped to the side, clutching the newspaper bundle to his chest.

It wasn't until Reborn took another step that he finally felt it.

oOo

He never believed in those stories about being fated to bond with a Sky.

After years of being coerced into harmony by different Skies, he knew intimately well just how hard it was to find someone truly worthy of him. At the beginning, he'd even taken pride at the thought that he was too strong for just anyone to take. As years passed, the ache of being unaffiliated and unbonded had started to grow. His Sun Flames had always been the brightest of its class but the longer he went on his own that they started to feel scorching.

He'd never thought that too much Sun could burn him too.

The only one who'd known had been Luce. And even then–

(The betrayal still stung because, for a moment, he'd actually thought he'd finally found his Sky no matter what Luce had told him. Her Sky Flames had been the purest and strongest that he'd ever felt. But the moment his flames had reached for hers, she'd immediately confronted him with a firm rejection. It smarted to be on the receiving end when he'd been rebuffing Skies for as long as he'd been recognized.

"Your Sky is meant to be precious," Luce had given him a sad smile that one rainy morning to themselves. "And I cannot take that away from you. Your Sun will shine just as brightly. It just so happens that it's exactly what they will need." She had sounded so certain but the humiliation of rejection hadn't gone away, still weighing heavily on his very soul.

"What about what I need?" He tried not to sound bitter but it was close. It was a jab. He tried not to take satisfaction at the way she flinched. It was just so hard to.

Because she was supposed to be the strongest Sky.

"I'm not going to take away that home," Her eyes had shimmered with an emotion that he had, at the time, identified as sympathy. "It's what you need. More than you'll ever know.")

His only consolation was that she'd also never harmonized with the others. At least, not completely. She'd forged tentative bonds with them in a way that she'd never even tried with Reborn. Aside from him, Skull was also another exception. But he assumed that was because he was a civilian, that Luce hadn't wanted to take advantage of the other like that. Still, it had stung because it only emphasized just how much alone he was. Not even their friendship could fully mend that.

After the curse, Reborn was partly relieved as he hadn't wanted to know what would've happened if his Sky betrayed him. On the other hand, his trust had still been broken. He didn't think if he could ever place his belief in another Sky again. Even he could only trust Aria to a certain extent.

He didn't think he would ever find the Sky Luce had talked about.

So, color him confused (and shocked, it took a lot to bring out this emotion in him these days) when he finally noticed what was so unnerving about Number Four Privet Drive. The whole property was practically soaked in Sky Flames. The same cautious but curious flames that he was now only noticing had his own flames curling around them. It wasn't harmonization. He'd only had one conversation with the kid. But it was pretty damn close.

Merda, he thought as he exhaled through his nose. You have got to be kidding me.

oOo

Reborn wondered if it was karma as his eyes met the wary green eyes of his defenseless and vulnerable baby Sky.

His Sky because, even if it wasn't there yet, the way his Sun Flames gleefully prodded and pulled on the Sky Flames without resistance from the other told him that it was very well on its way there. In fact, when he'd let his flames trickle earlier, he hadn't known what he was unleashing, it seemed.

(There was a persistent ache in him that he'd learned to ignore for a long time. Like he was always full of sharp things. The way even his own flames seemed to scorn him, scorching and burning ever fiercer. That he could no longer use them to heal another because he would burn them. Yet now, his flames slowly, oh so slowly, seemed to finally breathe. Reborn had almost forgotten what his flames felt like as the Sun–warm and soothing–and that his insides were not always filled of glass shards–)

Change of plans. His job could wait until later tonight.

"You–" Reborn called out in a demand, watching in amusement as the boy subconsciously straightened at the tone. "–are coming with me."

"U-Uhm," The boy looked bewildered and scared now.

As he should be. God-fucking-damn it.

oOo

Apparently, no one had taught his baby Sky not to come with strangers. Not even if they looked like toddlers claiming to be hitmen.

It made his self-appointed mission easier at least but it was something that he was going to fix.

"So," Reborn stood on the counter of the breakfast bar by his hotel room and faced the seated seven-year old. "Introductions are in order. I am Reborn. Not my real name but it's what I am called. I am the World's Greatest Hitman." His eyes bore into contemplative green and he wondered if the boy felt the bond, felt how Reborn's flames had transitioned from scorching hot to lulling warm, how his own Sky Flames tentatively seemed to try and smooth over the jagged edges of the hitman's flames.

The boy's own flames were curious. If he had to describe it in words, Reborn would say that these Sky Flames had a different flavor to them than the usual.

It was the first time a baby Sky's flames had courted his. They were one of the purest he'd felt, untouched by the underworld's influence. A clean slate. Still, some part of him refused to believe that Luce might have been right to say that this was what he needed–

(It was the first time he felt like he wasn't filled with knives.)

"M-My name is Harry," The boy eventually offered in return even though Reborn already knew his name from the files.

Harry James Potter, born 31st of July 1980 to Lily Potter (née Evans) and James Potter who were both murdered in 1981. Reborn hadn't dug deeper into the boy's parents because he'd been focused on the pig. That would have to obviously change. Grunnings had been existing for the better part of three years already and it seemed that the only reason it hadn't been burned to the ground by now by the Vindice was because the British Isles were considered neutral grounds.

For some of the most deprived Famiglias to converge here, it would be easily one of the most spectacular affairs to no doubt grace the mafia.

By then, Reborn wanted his Sky and himself to be very, very far away when that happened.

"Do you know why you're here, brat?" Reborn raised an eyebrow at the other, crossing his arms, trying to determine what the boy understood of the situation.

(Do you feel it? It's no longer burning.)

"Y-You said that you're a hitman!" Harry blurted out, seeming breathless as he clenched tiny fists on his lap. "And you're there for Uncle Vernon. D-Does that mean you're going to arrest him for what he did?" was the quiet mumble, so quiet that Reborn almost hadn't heard him.

He stared at the brat. At the hope in his eyes. Arrest? What the fuck did this boy think a hitman was? Of all the things–

"What did he do?" He hadn't meant to snap but if that pig had involved his family in those activities after all, dio mio, no one would find his remains after Reborn was done with him.

The boy flinched at his tone and Reborn tried to pacify the other by trying to coax the other's Sky Flames, letting them brush gleefully against his Sun and know that he meant no harm. The brat already went this far so it meant that he trusted the hitman on a visceral level. Or it should mean that way because Reborn refused to believe that his Sky had the self-preservation instincts of a stoned lemming.

"I-I'm not sure," Harry didn't meet his gaze, Reborn would have to teach him about not taking his eyes off an enemy, not that he was. "T-They don't like me. The Dursleys, I mean. B-But there were good people in the neighborhood. Sometimes, they give me snacks or teach me things. U-Uncle doesn't like them. He never did. Our neighbors are, ah, never the same. Because whenever someone is good to me, I-I think Uncle Vernon makes them disappear." The boy babbled, all nervous energy and fidgeting.

"How do you know it was the pig?" His lips curled, calm as he pleased.

"Mr. Hanazawa," Green eyes blazed as they finally met Reborn's gaze. "He's Japanese and our neighbor. He used to give me snacks that I tried to hide from Dudley. When Uncle knew where it came from, he said that he wouldn't stand for foreign no-good neighbors. Then he called someone to 'clean up'. Then someone said that he suddenly left two days later, just like the others. T-That was a month ago. And then–" He hiccupped as tiny fists angrily scrubbed at tears.

The boy probably noticed that the other people who suddenly left were people who'd been kind to him.

That explained the disappearances and sporadic house ownerships in Privet Drive. He'd already suspected Dursley's hand in it but it was still suspicious that not one of those people had thought to question it. Vernon Dursley had made that suburban hell his little territory.

Looking at the situation like that and knowing that pig's obvious dislike of his nephew (he would have to check on the root cause, he had the feeling that grudges that stemmed from that dislike run deeper than he realized), it was a miracle that none of the pig's associates, or anyone really, had noticed the house drenched in Sky Flames, had not detected the brightly burning little Sky under his roof and sold him.

Skies had always been a rare commodity anywhere.

But, then again, Reborn's eyes widened as he realized that he had not noticed them earlier too until he'd flared out his flames.

"I think I'll need a little hand," He finally said, at least about Dursley's mess because Reborn was going to savor killing that pig.

(A Sky. And he felt no more.)

TBC.