13. Lal Mirch: Skeet Shooting

The one thing no one expected them to do was camping.

Tsuna was on the thin side, with average height and less-than-average survival skills. If he couldn't even get his life together, how could anyone expect him to last a few minutes in the woods? When that blond junior, who had a major crush on Lal Mirch, found out and humiliated Tsuna with some nasty words, Lal Mirch beat the hell out of him. She only stopped when Tsuna physically got in-between them.

"Stop moving," Lal Mirch murmured, her shotgun aimed at the dense trees.

Tsuna tried, but it was hard when his legs were numb. They were both crouched behind some shrubs. If they stayed like that any longer, Tsuna knew he was going to fall over. "I'm trying."

Wings fluttered above. Four successive shots cracked in the air. Tsuna covered his ears and closed his eyes. Not too long after, a hand ruffled his hair. When Tsuna opened his eyes again, he saw Lal Mirch crouching in front of him, her lips moving. "—kay, Tsuna," she said. "I'm here. You're okay. I got you." She helped him up by the waist. "We've been doing this for months now. How are you still not used to it?" She didn't sound annoyed, just fond.

Tsuna gave her a shaky smile. "Maybe I'm just weak."

Lal Mirch scowled. "Hey, you're not. Don't listen to what that idiot said. I'll punch him again."

"Please don't."

"I wasn't asking."

Tsuna rolled his eyes but smiled when Lal Mirch tousled his hair. "I don't think you should get suspended over that. It's going to look bad on your records."

"Tsuna, I'd do anything for you. You know that." Lal Mirch kissed his cheek. "Come on, cook something nice for me."

Tsuna blew a strand of hair from his face. "Yeah, yeah. Just start the fire."

"Sure thing, hon."

"Please don't call me that…"

"Why not, sugar plum?"

"Oh God, stop."

"It's not that bad. What's worse than tuna-fishie?"

"…just start the fire."

14. Lancia: Hammer Throw

No one believed that the strongest man of northern Italy was an utter softie. They didn't see past the image of him hurling hammers and steel balls across the field too powerful of an impression to overcome. Tsuna did.

"I wanna go on that one!" M.M. said, tugging Lancia's hair from her perch on his broad shoulders.

Lancia winced from the little girl's onslaught. "You're too small for that ride. Miriam will kill me if she finds out."

M.M. pouted. "Tsuna!"

Chuckling, the brunet popped another fluff of his pink vanilla cotton candy in his mouth. "M.M., listen to your uncle—and your mom. We can go on other rides."

"That's not fair! You always take their side!" M.M. turned up her nose. "I don't like you anymore."

Tsuna fed Lancia a piece of cotton candy. He knew this routine. M.M. would throw a fit, Lancia would cave, and most parties would be happy—except Miriam would find out one way or another, and Tsuna really loved the woman, but he'd rather not deal with a dead boyfriend.

"Look, look, look!" M.M. said, pointing in the distance. "I want that unicorn, Uncle! Get it for me!"

Tsuna choked back a laugh when he saw a 20-feet high striker, its colorful lights flickering on and off in random patterns. A young man gave it a go, swinging the hammer down onto the red puck. It rose with a red streak, but fell short of the bell. The numbers flickered to 103 before returning to 0.

Lancia sighed, a sign of defeat. Tsuna patted his arm. "At least we know you'll get it," he said.

M.M. squealed when Lancia passed her onto his boyfriend and volunteered next. He looked anything but willing. The operator grinned and gave him a thumbs-up. "Good luck, sonny!"

Lancia picked up the hammer with ease and swung it around a couple of times with one hand to test the weight. When he looked back, Tsuna grinned and held up his hand, bringing his index finger and thumb very close together. It was a signal to hold back, just a little bit. With a grim frown, Lancia walked towards the high striker like a man going off to war.

"I want the purple one, Uncle!" M.M. wriggled in Tsuna's arms. "The big, purple one!"

Lancia lifted the hammer and struck it down too fast for the naked eye to see. Nearly everyone exclaimed in shock when the bell popped off, flying far elsewhere, and the machine shut down. M.M. broke the silence with her clapping and squeals. She made grabby hands at the purple unicorn. "Give me, give me!"

Tsuna kissed Lancia on the lips for his troubles. "You tried."

Lancia could only give him a sheepish smile in return, his cheeks pinker than the cotton candy.

15. Longchamp: Soccer/Football

"Tsuna-chan, did you see that, did you see that? That goal was amazing! Hey, Basil, that was awesome, man!"

Tsuna shooed Longchamp away from the benches. He didn't need the coach to find another reason to kick him off the field as a distraction for his boyfriend, even if it wasn't Tsuna's intention. "That was cool, but the game isn't over yet!"

Longchamp pouted. "Fine!" He ran back to the field, waving his arms in the air and yelling God knew what at his teammates in an overexcited frenzy.

Tsuna laughed. Longchamp always had too much energy, but it was kind of endearing. He had his moments sometimes. The crowd roared when Vongola's team stole possession of the ball. Basil dribbled it down the field with an amazing burst of speed, weaving in-between his opponents with ease.

"Basil!" Enrico waved at him from the other side of the field. In an instant, two Trinisette players sprinted for him in hopes of stealing a pass.

Basil feinted a right and managed to move around their huge bodies, passing the ball to Longchamp. Tsuna covered his ears as the crowds on both sides started competing on who could scream the loudest. He almost missed Longchamp bulldozing past three players and shooting a nearly impossible goal. The ball curved around them. Guido, a Trinisette player, tried to jump and intercept it with a header but it wasn't enough. The ball slammed into the net, stretching it out with its impact.

The field erupted into raucous cheers as the Vongola's Men Soccer Team leapt onto Longchamp's backs in a messy group hug. The crowd roared with chants and whistles, and Tsuna couldn't help but join them. He jumped off the bench with the coach and greeted the team with a bright smile. "Longcha—Oof!"

He blushed when the other members wolf-whistled around them when Longchamp lifted him in a huge bear-hug. "Tsuna-chan! Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

Tsuna looked down at him in confusion. "Thank you? But I didn't do anything."

Longchamp's eyes shone brighter than the sun. "Are you kidding? I wouldn't have done it without you!"

"He thinks you're his lucky-charm," Basil translated.

Tsuna gaped. "What? But that was all you, Longchamp! I didn't do anything!"

"As long as Tsuna-chan believes in me, I can do anything!"

Everyone around them cheered when Longchamp pulled Tsuna down for a kiss. Tsuna couldn't help but melt into his boyfriend's embrace.

16. Mochida: Kendo

"Sorry, did you wait long?" Kensuke said, dashing down the steps of his lecture hall. He had his gear bag slung over his shoulder and carried some notebooks in his arm.

Tsuna took Kensuke's books and handed him a cup of coffee. "I told you to use your backpack." He sighed when Kensuke only laughed. "You forgot it again, didn't you?"

Shrugging, Kensuke took a big sip of his coffee before hissing in pain. "Hot, hot, hot!"

"Oh my God, don't just drink it like that!"

"Warn me a little, huh?"

"Use your brain!"

"Lecture took my last braincells. Sorry."

Before Tsuna could scold his boyfriend more, Kensuke finished his coffee in three gulps and tossed the cup in the trash. He hissed from the liquid's heat but Tsuna didn't spare him much sympathy. "You idiot," he said, wrestling a napkin from his bag.

Kensuke swatted his hand away when Tsuna wiped his mouth. "Come on, babe. Everyone's gonna stare."

"So what?" Tsuna knew that Kensuke liked being babied. The amount of times he pretended to be sick was nauseating and only pissed off his coach.

Kensuke crossed his arms over his chest. He didn't pull away, but his face was scrunched up into a pout. "You baby me every time."

"Yeah, 'cause you're a walking disaster! What dumbass forgets his backpack? Oh right, I'm lookin' at him." Tsuna rolled his eyes when Kensuke huffed. "Come on. I don't want Coach Tanaka up my ass for bringing you late to the match."

"He can't go up your a—"

Tsuna smacked Kensuke's head. "I fucking dare you to finish that sentence."

"Okay, I did—in my head. Let's go. Up and at 'em."

Tsuna yelped when Kensuke scooped him up in his arms as if he weighed nothing. "What the hell?"

"Just getting in my warm-up. All you gotta do is relax and enjoy the ride." Kensuke sprinted across campus. "Hey, babe, you lost weight."

They managed to arrive before warm-ups ended. Coach Tanaka still yelled at them anyways, even though Tsuna wasn't on the team.

17. Reborn/Renato: Pistol

It wasn't a surprise that he'd qualify for the Olympics.

Everything Renato did was flawless—well, almost everything. He was a charming, handsome young man who ensnared women's hearts with just a look. There were many things to like about him, and many things to hate about him, too.

Tsuna found a way to compromise, because in the end, Renato was Renato and he ended up loving every part of him, flaws and all (very deep flaws but Tsuna was stuck with him at this point, so he might as well go with the flow).

One of the youngest shooters to date in Olympics history at 22-years-old, Renato stunned the world at the 50m Pistol event. With his freakishly perfect aim and posture, he put most sharpshooters to shame as he racked up scores no one ever thought possible. Tsuna had witnessed it firsthand at a carnival when Renato won every single stuffed animal for him at a shooting booth. It was both mortifying and amazing. Tsuna had to get a wagon to carry them to Renato's car.

Loud pops cracked in the air, making Tsuna jump. Even though he was far enough in the stands, he never liked the sound of gunshots. He also had no idea where to look for the scores. The targets were ridiculously small, and all he knew was that this was the finals.

Eight men stood a few feet apart from each other. Renato was the youngest; he wore a green, red, and white jacket with "Italy" etched on the back. The others were middle-aged men from China, Serbia, South Korea, and America. Tsuna didn't know them. He was only here for Renato.

The crowd cheered after Renato shot the target for the last time. He gave them a slight smile before heading to Tsuna. No one stopped him when he walked over to the stands.

Tsuna leaned over the railing. Cameras snapped in quick successions around them. "Did you win?"

Renato raised a brow, but there was a smile on his lips. "You don't know?"

Tsuna huffed. "That's not fair. Don't answer my question with a question. So, did you?"

He blinked when Renato pulled him down by the collar of his jacket for a chaste kiss. "You'll stay for the ceremony." It wasn't a question or an order, just a simple fact. Sometimes Tsuna hated it when Rentao was right.

"Yeah, yeah." Tsuna, who wasn't one to initiate anything, kissed Renato back on the cheek. He smiled when a flicker of surprise passed in Renato's dark eyes. The cameras drank the whole interaction up from the sides, but neither paid them any attention. "I'm really proud of you, Renato."

Tsuna was never going to admit that he cried when Renato received his gold medal at the ceremony. Never.

18. Ryohei: Boxing

His boyfriend always took things to the extreme—no offense to Ryohei's catchphrase.

Whether it be going out on dates or something simple like watching TV, Ryohei would always go out of his way to make sure Tsuna was comfortable and happy at the expense of his own health and safety. It was ironic since Ryohei was in medical school. If Tsuna asked him for a cup of water, Ryohei would give him the ocean.

It was sweet and amazing, but Tsuna still had some of his bruised self-esteem from his past that made it hard for him to fully enjoy Ryohei's care. That, and Ryohei's past life was anything but clean either.

Tsuna had left their shared apartment to make a quick run for the convenience store two blocks away. After he had asked Ryohei if he wanted anything, he had left him alone to continue studying for a big exam tomorrow. Tsuna had spent ten minutes in the store walking up and down the snack aisles before he left with a bag of them.

The evening was warm, so he indulged himself with a soda popsicle. It was springtime, but most days felt like it was summer. Cars drove by on the narrow roads every few minutes. Not too many people were outside either since it was pretty late. While Tsuna thought about which assignments he'd have to work on once he returned to the apartment, his tingling nerves alerted him to incoming danger.

Tsuna stepped away just in time before beefy arms managed to grab him into an alleyway. He took one look at the entourage of men, noticed their familiar tattoos, and ran; his bags and ice cream dropped to the ground. His legs groaned in protest when he dashed up a small hill to his neighborhood, but his freedom was short-lived when someone tackled him to the ground.

"So you're Ryohei's little bi—"

The man never finished his sentence. A familiar war cry roared across the air. Ryohei had stormed down the street and jump-kicked the man away. Tsuna wheezed, trying to catch his breath, as Ryohei pulled him up in his arms. "Tsuna, you're okay now," he said in his ear. "I got you."

Tsuna clung onto Ryohei's shirt when his boyfriend pushed him behind him. "Ryohei." His voice trembled, but not as much as his body. His chest and chin ached from slamming onto the concrete.

The men in front of them weren't friends with each other—they were Ryohei's rivals from his days in the underground fighting ring. Tsuna only recognized Koyo, a green-haired boxer who never left Ryohei alone.

"That was low," Ryohei said, his voice dark. "I'll never forgive you."

Koyo smirked. "What are you gonna do about it?"

They raised their fists at the same time, but it was Ryohei who knocked him down first.

19. Squalo: Fencing

Tension buzzed in the air. The stadium was eerily quiet aside from squeaking shoes on the strip and blades tapping against each other. Tyr, Squalo's coach, watched the fencers bounce on their toes with light steps, his eyes somber and dark under the lack of lights. Tsuna stood beside him, his heartbeat picking up as Squalo lunged for Genkishi's open shoulder.

A red light lit up from Squalo's side of the strip to indicate that his hit landed. The audience cheered as Squalo roared out his signature, "Voi!" His voice didn't have to compete with the crowd.

However in an instant, when he and Genkishi, his Japanese opponent, returned to their en-garde lines, Squalo reverted back to his calm composure. No one could ever think that the rambunctious man was a already an Olympic gold medalist at the tender age of 21 upon meeting him the first time. Representing Italy as an epeeist, Squalo had the whole world watching him and his every move. Tyr had molded him into a winner since he could hold a blade. It helped that Squalo's mother was a legendary fencer in her own right with four Olympic gold medals and three back-to-back World Championship titles.

"Keep your head together!" Tyr said in Italian.

The referee raised his arms. "En garde." Squalo and Genkishi assumed their stances. "Prêtz? Allez!"

Tsuna gripped Squalo's blue water bottle with tight hands. Although he knew Squalo had chances of winning gold, Genkishi was a veteran and was much more patient to draw out a bout if needed. Squalo had a temper if things didn't go his way. It could either be his vice or his virtue, Tyr had said before.

In a matter of seconds, the score difference was a little daunting. Fifteen points decided the victor—Squalo had 12 while Genkishi was right at 14. Fina, Squalo's mother, cursed under her breath. "Don't blow up, cucciolo."

Tsuna would've laughed under different circumstances whenever Fina called Squalo puppy. He flinched when Genkishi and Squalo lunged at each other again. Only a red light lit up.

"Voi!"

Shoes squeaked across the strip as Genkishi went on the offensive. Squalo stunned everyone by going for a swift counter, lunging forward and low enough to dodge Genkishi's blade. A red light lit up again. Then again. And again.

The stadium erupted into roars as Squalo screamed in triumph. Tyr dashed over to hug him while he shouted proud words in Italian drowned out by the pandemonium. Squalo shook Genkishi's hand before running off the strip with Tyr. Fina ruffled his sweaty hair as he pulled Tsuna into a crushing hug. Tsuna rubbed his damp back and hid his face in Squalo's chest from the camera flashes.

"Fuck," Squalo gasped out, only for Tsuna to hear, still high and euphoric from his victory. "Fuck."

Off the strip, Tsuna was the one who anchored Squalo and kept him afloat. Everyone knew that.

20. Zakuro: Basketball

"Come on!"

"Go, Trinisette!"

"You can do this!"

The away crowd's cheers were starting to drown out the home crowd's with increasing frequency that Tsuna had to laugh. He loved the buzz and adrenaline during a game, whether it was official or not, and the players' excitement always seeped into his nerves even if he was sick with a slight cold. When Zakuro had found out that he followed them anyway to Vongola University, he just sighed and wrapped his black-and-white jersey over Tsuna's shoulders.

Even though Tsuna couldn't cheer as loudly with his sore throat, he still caught Zakuro's eye on the court and grinned. Zakuro's own lips would quirk into a small, soft smile only reserved for him before the tall man returned to the game.

A multitude of sounds crackled throughout the air-conditioned stadium—squeaking sneakers, dribbling basketball, blowing whistles. Tsuna might be out of commission physically, but his senses hadn't waned yet. As the team manager, he'd taken some shit from the older players for not being a girl until Zakuro had shown them why he was known as the Red Beast. That, and Tsuna's cooking and uncanny observation ability—no one questioned him again after that.

His eyes tracked Vongola's basketball team, taking note of Levi's slight limp and Kusakabe's delayed responses. A cheer rose through the air when Zakuro managed to shoot a 3-pointer.

The score gap was too close for comfort: 96 for Vongola, 93 for Trinisette. With Jaeger benched for twisting his ankle thirteen minutes in and Torikabuto rotated out for Alejandro, the game could go either way, which wasn't what they wanted. They wanted to crush Vongola, their long-time rival.

Tsuna motioned at Coach Gamma to call for a timeout. While the team reconvened around him like a tall, protective wall, Tsuna took a small moment to sneeze in the crook of his arm. He smiled when almost all of them grunted out a, "Bless you," as they took sips from their water bottles.

"They're not on their A-game today," Tsuna said. His voice was a little raspy but the others didn't force him to raise his voice. Zakuro stood close to his side, wiping his face with a damp towel. "Levi and Kusakabe must've been more banged up than we thought from last week. We'll have to force them to be the only resort for ball possession. They'll get tired fast. Feint to Levi's right and keep Kusakabe desperate."

Alejandro gave him a mock-salute once their 30 seconds were over. The team shouted out their thanks as they jogged back onto the court. Zakuro lingered a little longer. "You good?" he said.

Tsuna smiled. "I'm fine. Go. Don't worry about me."

Zakuro ruffled his hair before running back to the court. Dinner was probably going to be bigger than usual tonight, Tsuna thought with a small smile.

A/N I hope everyone's doing okay and staying safe.

I know you peeps want the last part of Failed Assassination Attempts. I'm sorry this isn't that but please stop asking for that one to be updated. I'll get to it when I can.

Many thanks to my beta, nico~

Happy Pride Month!

Take care, peeps.

Little Miss Bunny