A/N: So, funnily enough, while I was researching Sasuke for another story, I found out that he is actually quite proficient in fuinjutsu. I have edited last chapter accordingly. The part I had to change wasn't hugely significant (only a few sentences), and I didn't really add anything plot-wise. Whether or not you'd like to check it out won't really affect your understanding of the story. :D

(Speaking of another story... Here is shameless advertisement: I've posted a Sasuke-centric fic - titled 'If The Sky Comes Falling Down' - wherein AU!Sasuke gets dropped into the Canon world, so check that out if you feel so inclined.)

Also: Thanks so, so, so much for all of the reviews, favs, follows, views, and for adding my story to communities! You're all just awesome, and I adore you~!

I.

"Yamamoto-kun has requested to train with Hibari-kun," Dino reports wearily to Reborn, thoroughly bemused. Considering the kid's utter disregard for civility and obvious disdain for human contact - and, not to mention, his penchant for violence - one would think the other guardians would at least be wary of him, not practically lining up for one-on-one time. Tsuna's Rain Guardian takes carefree to a whole new level.

Granted, it would make sense to pit the two swordsmen together (and wasn't that a shock? Hibari just showed up one day with a blade in his hand without so much as an explanation, and Dino just kind of went with it), and according to Colonello, Sasagawa has shown significant improvement in his speed. One does tend to develop better reflexes when avoiding a sword whilst simultaneously attempting to get a solid hit in. (That boy also has enough enthusiasm to make up for the rest of the guardians. Just where did the hitman find these kids?)

Still, Dino kind of envies Reborn for only having to teach Tsuna, who would be much better company, especially with the way he looks up to Dino, even despite Reborn's harsh words (Honestly, he has no idea where his old tutor's pulling this '50% clumsier without his subordinates around' stuff from; Dino's hapless sometimes, but he's no klutz), and, more importantly, he has no one trying to filch him away from his mentor. ...Except for Dino, apparently.

Reborn smirks knowingly at the Chiavarone boss, and Dino withholds a sigh. Instead of responding to his plight, the hitman addresses the other Arcobaleno occupying Iemitsu's sitting room, which is where they'd taken to meeting up after seeing each of their students off for the day. "What about Ryohei?"

"He's completed his training, kora!" Colonello announces with a grin, obviously pleased. Dino grins back, surprised, but Reborn had expected as much, if his smug expression is anything to go by. "He caught on really quickly and decimated a boulder three times his size with his Maximum Cannon," He goes on proudly. "I think he might actually have a shot, kora."

Setting aside his coffee, after a moment of deliberation, Reborn orders, "Dino, add Yamamoto to your schedule and rearrange it so that they alternate - Yamamoto against Hibari, Ryohei against Yamamoto, and so on - starting tomorrow." Tilting his head toward the toddler across from him, he says, "You should oversee them as well."

"...Alright," Dino replies unenthusiastically, already envisioning his conversation with Hibari, which definitely won't be pleasant. He'd barely been able to convince the kid to spar with him. Suddenly, being the Vongola's closest ally seems like a terrible, terrible mistake.

Colonello, predictably, isn't taking the demand well, either. "I'm not one of your minions, kora!"

The two Arcobaleno dissolve into a one-sided argument as Dino bemoans his fate in the background.

II.

Sweat collects on his brow, and Takeshi spares a moment to wipe it off, only for his instincts to scream at him to moveMOVE. He barely dodges in time to avoid a vicious slice to his shoulder. He then hastily twists his torso, planting his feet just so, and executes his own strike, which his opponent easily deflects, fluidly switching tactics. Takeshi twirls away from the kunai in Hibari's previously empty hand, bringing his sword up to block one blade and parry the other as the upperclassmen follows him, not letting up for even a moment.

He doesn't bother to hold back a grin as they come face to face momentarily, genuinely enjoying their training for the 'mafia game'. Oh, he knows it's not a game at all - has known from the very beginning, in fact. Two-year old's, no matter how intelligent, couldn't possibly be so mature or wield guns so expertly, and Gokudera's bombs are obviously not the toys he likens them to be. (Though his hot-tempered friend's reaction to the baseball player's comments is endlessly amusing; he's such an interesting guy, ahaha.) That's not to mention all the other mafia-related incidents and people who have invaded Namimori recently.

Takeshi is no fool, and he's not taking the situation lightly. He simply acknowledges the need for his carefree attitude in order to relieve tension and allow a sense of normalcy. Tsuna becomes exasperated with him, but he relaxes. And Gokudera gets angry with him, but he forgets his worries, as well. His act isn't completely an act, either; he's lighthearted by nature, after all.

His reverie is interrupted when his sparring partner breaks the temporary stalemate, and the kunai disappears as he back-flips away. Yamamoto glimpses several shuriken now fitted between the older boy's fingers - He must have replaced them in mid-air - before he has to swerve to the right to avoid half of them, and his trusty blade swiftly deflects the remaining three. Jumping at the opportunity presented by the DC Head's lack of weaponry, he charges forward, form still rough around the edges but quickly beginning to mirror the effortless grace of his opponent. (He has always been a fast learner.)

Not entirely unexpectedly, the older boy easily sidesteps the sweeping arc of his blade, and Takeshi realizes his mistake as soon as his opponent moves behind him. The sharp end of a knife presses lightly against his throat in warning before he even has a chance to complete the swing of his sword from his first strike, and he dutifully announces, "It's your win, Hibari."

"Hn." The boy removes the kunai without further comment and begins collecting the scattered weapons from around the room. Takeshi grins and moves to help him, thinking to himself - not for the first time - that choosing to train with Hibari had been a very good idea. His old man had just taught him Shigure Soen Ryu, and while he has absolute faith in its title as a flawless style and even in his ability to master it alone, he can't deny the relief he'd felt at being able to practice with another - skilled - swordsman. Nor can he deny the sheer thrill of crossing blades that not even baseball, much as he adores it, manages to give him.

His smile dims, however, as the long-haired swordsman inevitably comes to mind, along with his crushing defeat. His jaw tightens, unbidden, as he squats down to pick up a few shuriken. He'd sworn to protect Tsuna - his friends - and yet he'd been so easily beaten. He catches sight of Hibari in his peripheral, and he wonders, a bit resentfully, if the older boy would have been able to succeed where Takeshi had failed. Sighing, he carefully tucks this bitterness away, as has become habit with any other emotions he doesn't want to acknowledge, and reminds himself of his resolve to become stronger, but the topic of his musings remains.

Hibari Kyouya has always been a bit of a mystery; his actions are almost always contradictory. He's violent and yet protective. He's clearly a loner and yet has countless followers. And, most recently, he's never used anything other than tonfa (as far as anyone is aware) and yet is apparently adept with a variety of weapons, including a sword.

That last part had been a surprise but a pleasant one. Despite being a part of a team and, thus, being required to practice together, Takeshi has always felt isolated from his peers; he might as well have been training alone. Because of his genial nature, he was friends with everyone but close to no one. If it hadn't been for Tsuna, he wouldn't have been able to rectify that, wouldn't have Gokudera, Senpai, Kyoko-chan, Haru-chan, and Tou-chan, wouldn't be able to train with Hibari in order to protect all of his precious people.

He withholds his amusement at his memory of Tsuna's flailing and protests at fighting at all, feeling slightly guilty at his part in the brunet's dismay. He scratches his cheek with his free hand, telling himself that his friend needs to do this, not only for the upcoming battles, but if they can expect more threats on his life in the future (and Takeshi is certain this will be the case.)

Scanning the rest of the dojo - which he'd suggested for their training since it was actually built for this kind of thing - he confirms that they've gathered the last of the tools, and he ambles over to where Hibari had been in the process of cooling down. Carefully, he sets them beside the others and then mimics the upperclassmen, knowing that it allows his muscles to relax and prevents his blood pressure from dropping too rapidly - which could otherwise possibly result in fainting - from his experience in baseball.

"Ne, Hibari, what sword style are you using?" He asks, curious.

The boy had begun the fight using a reverse-style grip, which had thrown Takeshi at first - He remembers seeing something similar in a film, but his knowledge of sword techniques is limited to what his father has taught him - and then the DC Head had switched grips whenever the situation had called for it. The style had been surprising and had reminded him vaguely of a few of his own forms, but it definitely wasn't Shigure Soen Ryu he'd encountered. He'd gotten the feeling that Hibari hadn't been pleased with his own performance, his strikes decisive but apparently lacking something. There was no mistaking the excitement that his opponent had felt at trading blows, however. He wonders if Hibari had been training alone until now, just as Takeshi had been.

Barely sparing him a glance, the other swordsmen responds curtly, "My own."

"Eh? So you created it?" He blurts out in shock.

Ever a man of few words, Hibari simply nods.

"Ahaha, I see," He laughs, for lack of anything else to say. In hindsight, he supposes it makes sense; he can't imagine the self-proclaimed carnivore finding anyone else worthy of teaching him anything of use. It's taken the mafia boss of a prestigious famiglia to goad him into training at all. An idea occurs to him, then, so he inquires, "Is there any advice you can give me?"

Finished with his exercises, the upperclassmen regards him with an unreadable expression, and Takeshi subconsciously straightens under the scrutiny. After what seems like an eternity, his lips curl into a mocking smile, and he offers, "You're not coming at me with killing intent. If you want to have any hope of defeating me - or anyone else - you'll have to attack me as if you're trying to kill me."

The words are spoken blandly, and Takeshi gets the impression that they hadn't originally come from Hibari. Nevertheless, he can't shake the chill they'd given him, despite already knowing that the man he's training to beat probably won't show any mercy for him. His mouth thins in grim determination.

The oppressive atmosphere is quite thoroughly shattered by a distant enthused shout of "Kyoooooouya!" from their resident boxer fanatic, who, presumably, has just arrived to snatch Hibari away for some of his own training. Takeshi manages to catch the slightest grimace on the other swordsman's face, and he can't help the laughter that spills out at such a discovery.

It seems that not even the 'Demon of Namimori' is immune to Senpai's enthusiasm.

III.

"He's taken up a sword, huh?" The CEDEF leader mutters thoughtfully. "And various other weapons?" He sends the hitman a look. "Sounds a lot like him, wouldn't you say?" Iemitsu throws back another beer, and the toddler's mouth morphs into thinly veiled disgust. No one can deny the fact that the Young Lion of the Vongola had earned his title or claim he wasn't excellent at his job. In his opinion, however, the man had made a lot of poor decisions concerning his family, and his conduct at home - lounging around in his boxers, drinking himself into a stupor, and generally making a nuisance of himself - leaves something to be desired.

Reborn adjusts his fedora to shadow his expression, not bothering to answer. Since he'd begun Nono's request, a lot of pieces had been coming together, lining up to form a cohesive, if a bit suspicious, picture even without his influence. He'd nudged Yamamoto toward his current weapon, but with the boy having an ex-assassin swordsman for a father, he'd have been foolish not to use such a readily available resource. The rest of the guardians had already been skilled with very similar weapons to them, but now that Hibari has suddenly widened his arsenal, the 'two-year old' might allow himself to think, if only for a moment, that this is it, that these children are like them.

And when Ryohei actually manages to cajole their Cloud into bearing the other kids' presence, when Gokudera is completely serious about protecting all of his friends, when Yamamoto correctly reads the tension in the room and expertly lightens the mood, when Tsuna says something hopelessly naive, surprisingly insightful, and successfully inspiring, he might also think to himself that they'll change the world.

The World's Greatest Hitman didn't earn his title by being blindly optimistic, however, so he reigns in these dangerous musings.

(At least, until after they defeat the Varia, he amends.)

IV.

Hibari Kyouya is not happy.

Such a statement is obvious; any passersby would be able to glean as much from a glance. Then again, if random bystanders were to be trusted, Hibari would also be a demon in disguise or, if they were scared or resentful enough, Satan himself. Hibari is neither of these things, and the general populace is equally incompetent.

On a normal day - which, for the Head of the Disciplinary Committee, naturally consists mostly of doling out discipline via his rounds throughout Namichuu and Namimori as a whole, interspersed with well-deserved naps - Hibari is not unhappy; he is content, sometimes. Usually, he's simply irritated, whether it be because of the aforementioned useless civilians or Sawada Tsunayoshi's shenanigans.

Ever since not-Kakashi bulldozed his way into the supposed mafia boss's life - and, subsequently, Hibari's - he has been more aggravated than usual, especially when the baby hitman drags him into his schemes, which always involve crowding, unruliness, and herbivores (and he won't even have the decency to spar with him in compensation.)

What has sparked his anger is everyone's sudden presumption that he is already part of the Vongola Family. The sheer gall of these people - be they deadly mafioso or not - has given life to such contempt that he has not experienced since he was mentally and physically Uchiha Sasuke. He'd intimidated the Chiavarone into exchanging information for any sort of cooperation from him, so he knows about his 'position' within the famiglia.

Cloud Guardian. One who doesn't stand with the family but always comes to their aid. He wasn't really surprised by the description of his flames; he'd already figured out their propagation ability. He was startled at the assumption that he would, for no discernible reason, 'come to the aid' of the family at some point - startled and annoyed.

He is providing his assistance with the Varia because they're daring to threaten his territory; nothing more, nothing less. He has no intention of joining Sawada's family or of becoming a guardian to anyone outside of Namimori. He is not setting a precedent for future endeavors. Having his future decided for him without any of his input is completely unacceptable. How arrogant... How foolish of them.

He snarls, imbuing the shuriken clasped between each finger with more flames, and envisions the individual cells multiplying and then separating into entirely new clumps of cells - or, rather, shuriken. This process is both easier and more difficult than chakra-made clones. The act comes naturally to him, but coaxing the elusive flames from his center, up his arms, into his hands, and then onto the weapons is taxing.

(Even simply focusing the energy in his hands or feet takes much more effort than he would like. Unfortunately, it seems his obstinate nature - personified by these flames - will be in itself an obstacle. From what the Chiavarone has told him, he can safely assume the other Dying Will flame affinities would be much more malleable.)

He flicks his wrist expertly, throwing the six projectiles at the various targets placed about the room, and twelve of them hit their marks. A bead of sweat trails down his face, but he pays it no heed. Unlike their chakra equivalents, these clones are solid, similar to the Idiot's favorite technique but without the huge energy cost. It's time-consuming, but even that won't be a problem for long. When he began cloning items, it took him nearly an hour; now, it takes mere minutes. He'll consider the jutsu complete when he gets it down to seconds.

Another major difference between the two types of clones is longevity. His clones won't cease to exist when met with enough force, nor do they require a constant supply of flames. This technique grants him access to an endless reserve of weapons, provided he is able to continuously clone them. He collects the many shuriken and kunai embedded in surfaces throughout the room and stores them in a pouch reminiscent of the standard shinobi gear he'd strapped to his leg as a genin, lamenting his lack of progress in sealing.

Hibari has long grown accustomed to inking his arms with storage seals in lieu of carrying bags, as well as the myriad other uses of the sealing art, so of course, another priority of his is to recreate the jutsu. The inflexible quality of the Cloud, however, has once again stymied all attempts to do so. Fuinjutsu requires precision and accuracy - both of which remain irritatingly out of his grasp when all he can manage to do with the purple fire is slightly alter its course through his limbs.

Nevertheless, all of his former power can be regained - perhaps even surpassed - and he will become the strongest, whether in this life, or the next, or however many lives he lives.

(noonewillevertakeanythingawayfromhimagain)

V.

"KyOuYa! It's the extreme me!" Ryohei throws open the sliding door and easily spots the one he'd been searching for sitting in the middle of the wooden floor, expression set in concentration. He glances around the wide space, taking in the battered targets and weapons strewn everywhere. His eyes narrow at the boy's bandaged fingers and the excess perspiration on his face and staining his clothing. As the teen turns to face him, the older Sasagawa plasters on an extreme grin and shouts, "I'm fighting one of those mafia guys - tomorrow night!"

His best friend frowns - which is different from his usual I-just-ate-something-extremely-unpleasant face - and demands tersely, "They're in Namimori?"

Ryohei nods and explains, "They attacked the cow that stays at Sawada's! The other little guy in the suit told me, so I extremely ran over to help! Then, these other people showed up and talked about stuff I didn't really understand! But I know I'm going to fight and win to the extreme!" He pumps a fist in the air excitedly.

"Hn." Accepting the explanation, the boy gets a determined glint in his eye and goes back to his training, apparently ignoring the extreme boxer now.

The smile vanishes, and his eyebrows furrow at his friend's un-extreme behavior. The DC Head has always been distant and dismissive, but lately, he's been... obsessed. The white-haired teen gets an idea, then.

"Kyoooouya~!" He suddenly dashes toward the seated male and flies into him before he can react - in effect, glomping him. "Let's have an extreme sleepover!"

The boy lets out a grunt in surprise, and Ryohei jumps off of him before he gets an elbow to the face. Snarling, Kyouya threatens, "I'll bite you to death."

Translating that to "What an extreme idea!", he replies, "I've never had a sleepover before!" He pretends not to hear the growl that follows his exclamation.

As an afterthought, he says, "I'll let Kyoko know, so she doesn't worry." He then proceeds to do just that.

(Kusakabe once again walks in on a strange sight that night, but unlike all the others, he doesn't want to immediately erase the mere memory from his mind. Hibari-sama is curled up in his futon as usual, but tonight, a certain white-haired boxer has sprawled out over the Disciplinary Committee Head in his sleep, drooling childishly. He quietly closes the door and returns to his own room, equally anticipating and dreading the next morning.)

OMAKE - (I totally didn't forget about Hibird!):

The little bird flutters around before landing gently on his head, and Hibari closes his eyes with a yawn. The avian had - apparently - followed him out of the abandoned amusement park and hadn't left his side for very long since he'd been released from the hospital. Hibari hadn't been tempted to shoo the animal away, as it wasn't really a nuisance, and Kusakabe had promptly gotten one of his subordinates to buy feed for it after a day or so. The bird reminds him faintly of his old summons and how he'd flown so freely through the air Before.

As the last of consciousness slips away from him, he feels a weight lifted and hears the words to a very familiar song.

"Always together, vigorous and gallant

Let's walk together to Namimori Middle School!"

A/N: Once again, sorry for the wait! I have no real excuse; my muse just comes and goes as it pleases. I hope you guys still actually want to read this. OTL

Firstly, here is my answer to some concerns about there being two swordsmen: The Straw Hat Pirates from One Piece have two crewmembers who wield swords, but only one is considered a swordsman, while the other is labeled a musician. It's the same thing here; Yamamoto is fully devoted to Shigure Soen Ryu and is thus a swordsman, while Hibari is skilled with a variety of weapons, including a sword, and is thus a shinobi. (I maintain that shinobi swordsmen are different from regular swordsmen!) Their styles are completely different, and one cannot replace the other.

Secondly, I can't figure out what Sasuke's sword style is. What I've found out has been explained in-chapter. I'm going with 'He created his own style.' Most fanfiction I've read have everyone develop their own fighting styles after graduating the academy, which makes sense, so even if Sasuke learned it from Orochimaru, he's probably learned/experienced/altered it enough to have created his own version. So there.

Thirdly, there is the Kyou/Ryo/Yama bromance I mentioned, as well as my views of Yamamoto's character. I don't think he's faking his cheerfulness, but I also don't quite believe he is incapable of masking his true feelings or of grasping the severity of the situation. So he's noticed a few things, as is pointed out in-chapter. (Also, Dino, Kusakabe, and Romario are all on a coffee break during this part, which is totally why you don't see them - not because I forgot about them and then couldn't figure out a way to properly work them in.)

And, finally, I feel the need to point out that this fic isn't going to delve into darker themes - at least, no more than the two shows themselves have gone. I've read so many stories lately that are gritty and disheartening - which, okay, I can understand, since they're going for realism - but this fic won't. There will inevitably be angst, but there's also going to be a decent amount of humor and fluff.

Actual Notes:
*I referred to a timeline created by metamorcy (on tumblr) and Liu Bao Xia (on facebook) for the length of their training - five days - which is what I'll be referring to for the rest of this arc. It just makes things easier for me.
*Yamamoto calls Ryohei 'Senpai' in canon.
*All info on Shigure Soen Ryu is from Reborn Wikia
*The 'killing intent' bit is paraphrased from Kakashi's speech to Team 7 about the bell test.

Episodes Referenced:

*Section V - Episode 39

Question:

If you could be reincarnated/reborn as any character in either/both series (and you can gender-bend if you want to), who would you be and why?

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