Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Giotto liked Tsuna. He had watched generations of Vongola bosses from within the Vongola ring, generations of bloodshed. He’d liked some bosses, disliked others, but Tsuna was by far his favorite.

He liked the passion Tsuna held for protecting his friends and family; he liked his sympathy and consciousness towards others. He liked that he could be cowardly sometimes, because it made it more obvious how dedicated he was to those he cared about. Tsuna reminded Giotto of himself when he was his age, furthered along by their uncanny similarity in appearance. It was almost creepy, actually.

But, more importantly, Tsuna represented the Vongola as Giotto had started it; the part that had been lost when Ricardo had taken over.

Giotto shuddered. He still remembered that bloody battle… It had haunted him for generations, cursed to be trapped alone in a ring and watch helplessly as the Vongola’s future unfolded. He had been ready to embrace the bliss of death, but this was just torture; especially since Giotto hadn’t seen any of his family since the day they had died. It killed him inside.

He also hadn’t seen Cozart. The man had disappeared. Ricardo had interacted many times with the Shimon family, but Cozart had never been with them. And, to make matters worse, Giotto had watched as the friendship between the two families dissolved into feud and bloodshed. The first generation Shimon had killed Ricardo for some unknown reason; Ricardo’s guardians had then killed them in revenge, and so on and so forth until no one alive remembered that the two families had ever been anything but enemies.

It broke Giotto’s heart. Especially now that he wished he’d returned Cozart’s feelings all those years ago.

Since he was doomed to eternal suffering inside the Vongola ring, Giotto had had a lot of time to reflect on his life and the events that had immediately preceded his death. He didn’t know when he’d fallen in love with Cozart, but he knew it now and longed to tell him that. He thought that he’d rejected Cozart so long ago because he was unable to handle love at that moment. Everything had been falling apart around him, and he was so distressed about everything and angry with himself that taking personal pleasure seemed out of the question and impossible. Now he regretted the way he’d hurt Cozart and wished that he could change what had happened. Not just that, but he wished he could change everything; none of his guardians had deserved to die the way they had, especially not when Giotto had been so foolish in choosing Ricardo as his heir.

But more than anything he just wanted to see everyone again.

Sighing, Giotto pulled his knees to his chin and watched out Tsuna’s eyes. He wasn’t sure how it worked, but being stuck in the Vongola ring entitled a black space that he now called home. The only thing that broke the darkness was a giant screen-like image of everything that Tsuna could see (or whatever boss was in current possession of the ring) and an audio that allowed him to hear Tsuna’s thoughts as well as the conversations that went on around him. The whole thing didn’t make much sense, but heck he didn’t know how his spirit had even been trapped in the ring in the first place. The only thing he knew was that it had to be Sepira’s doing.

Ignoring the tinge of sadness that touched him at the thought of his friend, Giotto focused on what Tsuna was doing and thinking. Currently, he was looking at each of his guardians in turn outside of a shrine (if the Vongola boss remembered correctly it was called Namimori Shrine). Giotto could feel determination shooting through Tsuna and he looked sadly at the others.

The Tenth’s guardians reminded him painfully of his own family. The similarities were, once again, uncanny. Gokudera reminded him so much of G that he had to laugh sometimes: they both had that snappish attitude with a soft side for those they cared about. Yamamoto had a cheeriness about him that Giotto had only ever seen in Ugetsu. Hibari was aloof and distant, just as Alaude had always liked to be. Ryohei and Knuckle were both extreme about the things they believed in. Lambo whined and cried but acted snotty whenever he could, just like Lampo had been as a child. Even Mukurou, who had turned against Tsuna in the beginning, was like Daemon in that regard (besides the fact that they were both crazy), though he was less sure about Chrome’s connection.

Giotto sighed as he thought about Daemon. He wondered how much he had lived after he had betrayed them. Though part of him felt like he should be mad at the mist guardian, he found he couldn’t bring himself to feel that way. He just felt sad; he wished he could’ve held onto their friendship better.

Suddenly a voice reached into Giotto’s solitude, breaking him out of his thoughts.

“Vongola Primo, can you hear me?”

“S-Sepira?!” Giotto called back, startled, as he recognized the voice. He hadn’t heard her voice in so long! Could it really be…?!

The voice laughed softly. “I am a relative of Sepira; my name is Yuni. I am sorry if that disappoints you.”

“N-no…” It did disappoint him, but Giotto wasn’t about to say so. He then remembered Yuni: Tsuna had taken her into his protection recently, and even when she had first appeared Giotto had been reminded of his old friend. It had made him unbearably happy that some descendant of Sepira had survived. “What can I help you with, Yuni?”

“I would like to request your assistance in training the Vongola Decimo. They are in a tough spot right now, as I am sure you know, but if they gain full inheritance I believe they can pull through.”

Giotto hesitated. “Is that even possible? I didn’t know I had the power to grant anyone inheritance anymore.”

“It is possible.” Giotto thought he heard a smile in the voice. “With my power combined with the six arcobaleno present it can be accomplished. You have more influence than you think, Giotto, if I may call you that.”

“Of course you may call me that. Sepira did.” Giotto stood. He didn’t know what an arcobaleno was exactly, except that Tsuna’s tutor, Reborn, was one, but he decided to ignore that. “So I am to test Decimo to see if he’s worthy of my inheritance?”

“You and your guardians will, yes.”

“You mean I’ll get to see them?!” Giotto’s heart clenched.

“Yes; in fact those were part of the terms I was going to present to you. You’ll get to see your friends again and you’ll be outside the rings for a bit. Not only that, but once you finish with your job, I will help you find Cozart Shimon.”

Giotto couldn’t believe the level of happiness that swelled in him. After so long, freedom was at his fingertips; but, more importantly, he would be able to see his family again. The horrible loneliness that had clutched him through his entire time in the ring would finally be healed. He could make amends, with Cozart as well, and the thought made him so happy that he almost cried. He laughed instead. “You drive a hard bargain. Very well, Yuni; I accept your terms. It’s a deal.”

“Perfect! Thank you so much, Giotto!” Yuni’s voice was light and full of hope, and Giotto suddenly developed a fondness for her: she was so much like Sepira.

“I just hope you will instruct me on how to get out of this ring,” Giotto said humbly. “I’m afraid I don’t quite get how these things work.”

Yuni laughed. “That is no problem at all! In a moment a bright light is going to shine behind you. Just walk towards it, and you will be outside the ring. You will figure it out from there.”

“Promise?” Giotto joked, a smile coming on to his face for the first time in nine generations.

“Promise,” Yuni giggled.

Yuni fell silent and, following her instructions, Giotto turned behind him. The anticipation and anxiety was building exponentially in his chest so that he felt he would explode; there were so many things that he had to fix, but seeing his family again was all that mattered at the moment.

Soon enough, a bright orange light shone in front of the Vongola boss and he took a deep breath before he stepped into it.

He had a strange feeling of being sucked through a tube as the world spun around him. Everything was happening so fast that he started to get a strong feeling of vertigo and he hoped his first reentering of the world wouldn’t be accompanied with barf. Everything around him also seemed to be hot, like the feeling of when he burned flames through his I Gloves.

Before he could wonder about that, however, the world came into focus. And it wasn’t the same, bleak darkness he was so used to seeing; no, it was the real world. He could feel the cobblestones under his feet and he could smell freshly cut grass as a breeze crossed his cheeks. It had been so long since he’d experienced anything like it that for a moment he was silent.

However, a shout of surprise brought him back to the present and he looked directly in front of him to see Tsuna and the other guardians looking at him with shocked expressions. Giotto had to suppress a smile. So he really was outside the ring…

It was then he realized that he was striking a silly pose and lowered his hand awkwardly, embarrassed.

“Allow me to introduce the person before you,” a high-pitched, squeaky voice said suddenly. Giotto found the source of the voice on top of Tsuna’s head and recognized Reborn, the arcobaleno. He arched his eyebrow a little, wondering how he would introduce him. “Vongola Primo!”

… Dang, he’d have to get used to that. He’d never liked all of those formalities, so he’d always insisted everyone call him Giotto. However, when he opened his mouth to correct Reborn, he caught Yuni’s glance and saw her shaking her head at him. Dutifully, he shut his mouth but he was a bit sour about it. Why should he have to go by Primo? It was like he was dead! Well, he was, but still, he didn’t need to be reminded.

Realizing that everyone was staring at him, Giotto cleared his throat. “So we meet again, Vongola Decimo.” Ha. See how he liked being called by his fancy title!

“H-he spoke!” Yamamoto gasped, shocked.

“Is he an extreme ghost?!” Ryohei then shouted, just as surprised.

“A supernatural phenomena!” Gokudera called out in turn. Giotto had to suppress a chuckle. Though he himself didn’t really know what he was, and was just as surprised that he could communicate outside of Tsuna’s mind, he still found the younger generation’s reactions funny.

“The six of us, plus Yuni,” Reborn began to explain, looking at each arcobaleno in turn, “were able to form a contract that allowed Primo to take on a physical form. Of course, it’s only while the contract stays in place.”

Giotto nodded. He still didn’t quite understand the science behind it, but whatever. He understood that he was only temporarily free.

“That’s the Vongola Primo? He’s much younger than I expected!” One of the arcobaleno with a motorcycle helmet on spoke up. Giotto tried not to flinch. He was all too aware of how young he was compared to many of the other Vongola bosses, how much of the life had been taken away from him and his family.

Catching Yuni’s eye, Giotto decided it was time to speak up. “It seems you’ve run into a wall, Tsuna… er, Decimo.”

“How do you know that?!” Tsuna squeaked. Giotto had to hide his smile. So the current Vongola boss really had been unaware of Giotto’s presence within his thoughts.

“He can sense danger to the Vongola,” Reborn spoke up again. Giotto wondered how he could possibly know all of this when he himself didn’t even know. “It was probably a response to your feelings.”

“My feelings…?” Tsuna questioned uncertainly. Giotto had to admit he sympathized: he would be weirded out too if he’d learned that someone was listening to all of his thoughts all of the time. In his defense, he had tried to tune out whenever Tsuna began thinking about entirely personal matters (such as the girl named Kyoko).

“You’re Decimo’s guardians?” Giotto interrupted, looking around at the small group in front of him. Though he already knew it to be true, he wanted to confirm it; he had to know that soon his friends would find themselves freed from the rings and they could be together again. However, he also felt he had a duty to explain the only thing he understood about the whole situation. “None of you have inherited the true power of the Vongola – just as no one before you ever has.”

To the Decimo’s shocked reactions, Reborn added on his own explanation, “If the Primo guardians accept you as the true Vongola guardians, you will receive the true Vongola power.”

“What do we have to do to receive the inheritance?!” Gokudera shouted, sounding angry even though there really wasn’t anything to be angry about. Giotto let a snort of amusement escape: another G-ism.

Giotto had thought long and hard while he’d been waiting for the light of freedom about what he was going to do to test the Decimo, and exactly what they were being tested for. After all, he had nine generations of criticism to go off of. He wanted Tsuna to learn from his mistakes and be a better boss than he ever had been. “Are you able to embody the duty of a guardian? Do you have the resolve? Everything rests on that.”

Before he could spoil it by saying anymore, Giotto willed his spirit away from where he was standing. The hotness engulfed him again and when he opened his eyes and the feeling of vertigo faded he found he was standing on the roof of the shrine. He watched the Decimo from above, careful not to reveal his presence. He didn’t want to lay out strict guidelines for Tsuna and his guardians because he wanted them to prove themselves; Giotto had seen a lot that he liked about Tsuna and his guardians, but there was still so much they had to learn, and it was important they learned it on their own through the tests Giotto and his family would lay out for them.

And besides. He wanted to see his own family more than he wanted to get to know the Decimo. He just had to wait until nightfall, when Yuni had told him his guardians would be released from the rings.

--

G didn’t dare to believe that it was real until he felt pavement under his feet and saw the surprised expression of Gokudera in front of him. The cool night air touched his cheeks and he took a deep breath, appreciating the moment.

He’d been dead for so long he’d almost forgotten what it was like to feel.

He didn’t understand the details of how this moment had come to be; all he knew was the instructions he’d received from a girl named Yuni and that Giotto had gone full throttle on the plan. Which, of course, he would; he always liked getting into little schemes like this. G scoffed, a smile coming onto his face. How he’d missed Giotto; it would be great to see him again. But not only that, he’d be able to see Ugetsu.

He still remembered the horror of the dead form of his lover, the last time he’d ever looked at him. Generations later, it still made him shiver. He wished more than anything that he could be engulfed in Ugetsu’s warm arms again and the old battle wounds could finally be healed.

However, as always, he had to take care of business first. He lifted his head and looked Gokudera straight in the eye, feeling superior as he looked at a younger version of himself. He hated to admit that they were so alike, but the Decimo storm guardian was so much like his younger self that it freaked him out. And so, thinking back on his past, G knew he would have to teach Gokudera everything he wished he’d known when he was his age. Which was millennia ago… That was a still a bit weird to think about. In September it’d be what, his 500^th birthday? Yeesh he was old.

“So Decimo storm guardian,” G said, sneering cockily, “If you’re serious about following in my footsteps, you’ll have to show me that you’ve got skills and guts.”

Gokudera looked back at him defiantly and G had to raise an eyebrow at the cocky attitude of the brat before him. “I wouldn’t have it any other way!”

“What?” G had to laugh. “You really are serious.”

“I swear on my pride as the boss’ right-hand man that I’ll show I’m worthy of inheriting your power!” Gokudera shouted. G had to admit he was taken aback by his intensity; he knew he’d been crazy intense as a kid, but this was just ridiculous. Gokudera would have to show he meant it beyond mere words.

“Hmph. Then I look forward to it, brat.” G honestly wanted to stay in argue, since that’s what he did best, but he felt a tugging on his consciousness that he just couldn’t ignore.

Giotto was calling him.

Willing his spirit away, G felt the flames engulf him as he followed Giotto’s mental instructions. The clearing of Namimori Shrine… He’d been there before, or he should say Gokudera had been there before, but the place never had held as much significance as it did now. He’d finally be able to see everyone again. He wasn’t usually a very emotional person, but even the thought of seeing that bastard Alaude again was bringing tears to his eyes.

It had just been so long.

When he rematerialized the first thing he saw was Giotto. The man had his back to him and was looking up into the starry night sky. For a moment, G didn’t announce his presence and just watched the Vongola boss’ back, the back he had decided to dedicate his life to all that time ago.

Giotto’s Hyper Intuition soon sensed him, however, and he turned around to face G. The raw emotion on his face almost made the storm guardian cry and he had to smirk gently to prevent embarrassing himself. “G…”

“It’s been a long time… Primo,” G finished, shooting his friend a teasing grin.

Giotto sighed in exasperation before he laughed. “Come on G; I don’t think my poor old heart can handle hearing you call me that.”

G smiled widely as he walked over and drew his oldest friend into a bear hug. He could hear Giotto laughing and he found himself laughing too. It had been so damn long since he’d been this happy. When he’d died he thought he’d never get to spend another fun moment with his friend again. Once they’d joined the mafia they’d had less time to just sit back and relax; to do so now, after they had suffered so much pain, was a huge relief.

When they separated from their hug, flames of four other colors erupted around them. Out of them stood Alaude, Knuckle, Lampo, and…

G almost fell over when he saw Ugetsu appear a few feet away from him. The rain guardian smiled at him and before he even had time to be conscious G found himself tackling Ugetsu and burying his face in his chest. He really did feel a few tears blearing his eyes as he held the love of his life (and death) as tightly as he could. Even after everything, he still couldn’t believe that he could see and hold his lover again. They had been separated for so long that the storm guardian had thought that his heart was going to explode from the longing he felt.

And now they were together again.

“G, I…” Ugestu’s voice cracked and G snorted. He couldn’t keep a stupid grin off of his face. “I am so happy…”

G pulled back, giving his rain guardian a knowing look before he leaned forward and kissed him. He didn’t even bother to try and speak, since he knew his actions always spoke louder than his words.

When they pulled apart, G happened to glance around at the other guardians and saw they were having reunions of their own. Lampo had jumped at Giotto, tears and snot dribbling down his face as he hugged him tightly and Knuckle had stepped towards Alaude, the two leaning their heads together to speak words that G couldn’t hear.

G smiled softly. Everyone was finally back together again.

“It makes me so happy we’re all together again,” Giotto said after a few minutes had passed. Lampo was still clinging to the only person he could really call his father, and Giotto had his arm wrapped around the teen’s shoulders. “I feel I should first apologize for what happened so long ago… I…”

Ugetsu held up his hand as G stood up straight, becoming all-business again. “Giotto, please. I do not think any of us blame you now. Quoting words you once told me, “Let’s forget about it, shall we?’”

G snickered and Giotto smiled, the kind of smile that had been rare in the last few months they’d all been alive. “Alright. Thank you, Ugetsu.”

“So… What to the extreme is even going on right now?” Knuckle spoke up, tilting his head to the side in confusion. Ironically, he looked much younger than he had right before he died: the stress and depression that had loaded so heavily on him was completely lifted. He looked happy and free, just the way he used to be. “I’ve never heard of anything like this from reading the Bible.”

Alaude snorted, but G noticed Knuckle didn’t pay any attention.

“As I’m sure you’ve all figured out by now, our consciousness have been preserved in the Vongola rings. I don’t know how or why, but I do know that we’ve been released for one reason: to assist the Decimo,” Giotto explained.

“We’re supposed to grant them our inheritance if we think they’re worthy, right?” G spoke up, crossing his arms across his chest.

Giotto nodded. “Yes. I’ll leave the methods up to you, as I trust you know what you’re testing them for. And, if you don’t, think about what you wish your younger self had known and find a way to show them that.”

“Do we have a specific order?” Alaude asked. He was surprisingly cooperative, though G supposed he always did do what Giotto asked of him. “I have no interest in dealing with that child more than I have to.”

“Same here,” Lampo grumbled. G had to hold back laughter; he’d seen that cow brat that the teen had to deal with. Poor Lampo.

“After observing the guardians individually, I believe I have an order, yes. I’ll go last, of course, but Ugetsu,” Giotto turned to look at the rain guardian, “I want you to go first – I think Yamamoto needs the most help right now.”

Ugetsu sighed. “Yes, I had noticed that he has been losing sight of himself lately. I will do everything in my power to guide him.”

“Thank you,” Giotto smiled before looking back at the rest of the group. “The order after that will be Lampo, G, Alaude, Knuckle, and…”

Giotto broke off, but G knew that what he’d meant to say was weighing on everyone’s minds: Daemon. What were they going to do about him? He was no doubt free from the rings as well, since he was a guardian, but who knew what chaos he’d try to cause in this era? Just the thought made G’s vision turn red with anger.

“That bastard has no right to teach anyone how to be anything,” G growled.

Giotto sighed. “We’ll have to figure out what to do with him later. I’ll dedicate myself to try and find him and talk some sense into him.” When everyone looked skeptical, Giotto argued, “Who knows? Maybe being dead for eight generations has made him change his mind about something.”

“He’ll never change,” Alaude scoffed cynically. No one dared to argue.

Silence fell over them briefly before Lampo jumped out of Giotto’s arms and pumped his fists in the air, determination and excitement burning in his eyes.

“Who wants to go exploring?!”

G scoffed. Sometimes the kid knew exactly what to say. As everyone agreed to go (even Alaude, which was surprising), G walked with Lampo in the lead. He ruffled the teen’s hair and gave him a small smile.

He was glad to be somewhat alive again.

--

Ugetsu sat on the roof of Namimori Shrine, staring down at the Vongola Decimo. He had just deemed Yamamoto worthy of his inheritance, and he and his family were celebrating down below. Their antics brought a smile to the rain guardian’s face; they really did remind him of old times when his own family would just sit around and have fun together. At least they were together again now, though thinking about it too much made him sad as he knew it was only temporary.

Shaking himself, Ugetsu pushed his thoughts away. He’d just have to enjoy it while he could.

A pocket watch clicked shut behind him and he turned, startled, only to see that G had joined him on the roof. As the rain guardian smiled at him, he saw that G too was looking down at the Decimo with a sad look on his face. It wasn’t hard for Ugetsu to tell that his storm guardian was also remembering old times.

“I can’t believe you gave him a second chance,” G scoffed after a while. He smirked down at Ugetsu. “You’ve always been a big softie.”

“Are you really that surprised?” Ugetsu teased before he chuckled into his sleeve.

G glared at him. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, nothing, just remembering the past.” Ugetsu shook his head before he held his arm out to his lover and said softly, “Come here.”

G arched an eyebrow at him but said nothing as he sat next to Ugetsu on the roof. As the rain guardian wrapped his arm around G’s skinny waist, he felt the storm guardian immediately lean into him, his head on his shoulder. Ugetsu then leaned his head against G’s and closed his eyes in contentment.

It’d been too long since he’d been able to sit with G like this, and he was glad some things never changed.

When they were settled, Ugetsu looked down at the Decimo again. “They greatly resemble us.”

“No shit,” G snorted sarcastically before he bumped his head lightly into Ugetsu’s shoulder. “Don’t remind me. I’d rather not think about how I used to be such an annoying brat.”

“’Used to be’?” Ugetsu asked innocently, only laughing when G punched his arm.

“Shut it,” G grumbled, folding his arms across his chest stubbornly. Ugetsu only chuckled again and kissed the storm guardian’s temple.

They sat in silence for a while, even after the Decimo were long gone, watching the starry sky that they hadn’t seen in generations. Ugetsu wondered what it would’ve been like to grow old with G; to live together for much longer than they had and share more fun adventures. He wished he could’ve traveled the world with G and do more and see more than just what the mafia had entitled back then. He would’ve liked to take him to Japan when he was alive.

It then occurred to him, with that thought, that they were in Japan now.

“Hey G,” Ugetsu said softly, not wanting to break the serene peace the couple had transcended into. G grunted in response. “Do you remember when I went to Japan for a few years back when we were alive?”

G squirmed. “Of course I remember. It was torture.”

Ugetsu smiled and gave him that one. “Well, as I think I told you, I started a dojo while I was over here, teaching the art of swords and martial arts and the like.”

“I remember. Get on with it.”

“Well I do not know if this is a huge coincidence, or if there really is some kind of fate, but when I came back to Italy I left the dojo with a friend of mine, someone of the surname ‘Yamamoto.’”

G sat up abruptly and stared at Ugetsu with a grin on his face. “No way.”

Ugetsu nodded, smiling back at his partner. “Way. I did not make the connection when Takeshi Yamamoto was first given the ring, since Yamamoto is a common surname in Japan, but I realized that he lives in the very dojo I built. He even uses it quite frequently, practicing swordplay and whatnot.”

“That’s crazy!” G laughed. “What’s the chance of the great-great-great-however-the-hell-old-we-are ancestor of your friend becoming the tenth generation Vongola rain guardian? It’s kind of weird, actually.”

Ugetsu laughed as well. “It is kind of weird. But I mainly brought it up because I wanted to show you the dojo. If you want,” he added hurriedly.

G just scoffed before he leaned over and kissed Ugetsu, cupping the rain guardian’s cheek in his hand. Ugetsu kissed him back, happiness swelling in his chest as he lifted his hand to cover his lover’s. When they broke apart slowly, G looked at him with his giant Cyclops eye. “Of course I want to see it, idiot.”

Ugetsu smiled in excitement as he stood up, holding out his hands to help G up. G, being the stubborn person he was, stood up on his own, but the rain guardian took his hands anyway and held them, squeezing them tightly. Though he wasn’t sure why it was so important, he was happy he was finally sharing with his lover what had been such a big part in his life: it had inspired his move to Japan, as well as developed the love he held for the country. That he was now letting G in on that made Ugetsu feel like they really were sharing everything, and that thought made him unbearably happy.

“Just follow my thoughts,” he said to G, who merely rolled his eyes.

“As if I didn’t know that.”

Ugetsu just smiled and closed his eyes, focusing his mind on the place he could remember so well, despite having last been there physically nine generations ago. With a burning of flames and a rush of air, the couple left the temple.

When the dizziness faded and the rain guardian could focus on his surroundings again, he opened his eyes to find that he and G were in the empty dojo. Yamamoto had no doubt given himself a break after passing his inheritance, either spending time with Tsuna and the others or his father.

Ugetsu had always liked Yamamoto Senior. He was a bright, cheery fellow who was very supportive of his son in whatever he did. Ugetsu was jealous of that: he had been abandoned in a horrid orphanage (where he’d met Giotto and G) from when he was young and had never had the experience, though he’d always wished he had. He also envied how Yamamoto Senior seemed to understand everything about his son without ever having to ask and how well he dealt with the knowledge. Looking back on his life, Ugetsu knew he would’ve greatly loved and had greatly needed a father figure growing up. He loved Giotto and G, but a trusty adult who he could’ve gone to for advice would’ve saved him from so many past mistakes.

Pushing his sudden melancholy out of his mind, Ugetsu looked around the dojo. He could just imagine it how it had been when he had taught there because not much had changed: there were still the woodblock paintings he’d hung in various places on the walls; his surname was still written on the sign outside; the old desk he’d used to write letters to G was still in shape, though it had been pushed to the side; and there was still the hole in the wall that Ugetsu had accidentally put there when giving an especially hard demonstration to his students. The only difference was that the dojo wasn’t filled to burst with people and now looked like it was only used by one person (which it was).

Though it would’ve disappointed him at one time, he was glad the dojo was empty now.

“This is it,” he said to G, who started to look around, as if he was looking for some aspect of Ugetsu in the place. The rain guardian wondered if there still was any.

G, of course, marched right up to the hole in the wall and snorted as he pointed at it, looking back at Ugetsu. “Did you do this?”

Ugetsu could feel himself flush with embarrassment. “… Yes…”

G burst out laughing before he kneeled down, looking at the hole from different aspects. Each new angle would make him laugh again, while Ugetsu stood off to the side getting redder and redder. He didn’t know why his lover found it so amusing, but he knew he was getting more and more embarrassed by the minute.

“G…” Ugetsu moved over and put his hands on the storm guardian’s shoulders, gently directing him away from the hole, “Please stop; I am already embarrassed about it.”

“That’s why it’s so damn funny!” G snorted before he laughed again, but he let Ugetsu pull him away from the hole.

After that he behaved himself. He walked around the dojo, peeking into everything he could find and intensely investigating each thing he found. Ugetsu wasn’t sure why, but he appreciated that G was taking so much time and being so considerate to the place that the rain guardian had poured his heart and soul into.

Eventually G stopped in the middle of the room and abruptly lay down on the tatami floor. He stared up at the ceiling and didn’t move until Ugetsu joined him on the floor. When the rain guardian moved to curl his body around his lover, G rolled into a ball and buried his head in Ugetsu’s chest, falling into their old sleeping positions. The rain guardian smiled, still surprised by how much they remembered. He could almost delusion himself into believing that they were still alive and that they were just on a vacation together. He supposed that was partly true, besides the alive part, and he felt himself become sad again. He didn’t want to leave G again to face eternal solitude in the Vongola rain ring.

“It reminds me of you,” G whispered after a while as he lay cuddled into Ugetsu’s side. The rain guardian curled tighter around him. “I don’t know – I can just kind of see you living here.”

Ugetsu kissed his forehead, melancholy rising in his chest at the storm guardian’s words. “I wish we could live here together forever.”

“Maybe we can.” G smirked and closed his eyes, moving his leg to rest it between Ugetsu’s legs. Ugetsu rubbed small circles in the storm guardian’s hip as he continued, “I’ve seen the way Yamamoto looks at Gokudera when he thinks no one’s watching. Maybe if the guardians are close, the Primo in the rings can be close too.”

“Do you think that is possible?” Ugetsu asked. He didn’t want to be skeptical, but it had never happened before.

“Maybe. We sure as hell better try.”

Ugetsu laughed and buried his nose in G’s red hair. “I love you.”

“What, for trying to break this damn curse and stay together?” G smirked before he leaned up and pecked a kiss on Ugetsu’s chin. “I love you too.”

For a moment, the rain guardian was tempted to voice his fears: what if these truly were their last moments together? What if their efforts didn’t pay off and after this they would be left to their isolation? However, he decided not to say anything, as he didn’t want to taint the happiness of being together with worries of the future. Besides, when he’d first died and found himself trapped in the Vongola ring, he’d thought he’d never get to see G ever again. And yet, here they were. Maybe anything was possible. And, if G was willing to try everything to be together again, then Ugetsu would too. He knew from experience that nothing was worse than being separated from his lover; he would just have to do everything in his power to make sure they stayed together.

Ugetsu leaned down and kissed G fully on the lips. When they separated, he placed his forehead against G’s. “I will do everything in my power to prevent our separation.”

“I will too, dammit,” G responded immediately, reaching over and grabbing Ugetsu’s hand in his. He intertwined their fingers. “I won’t let anyone ever take you away from me again.”

“Then it’s a promise,” Ugetsu laughed, smiling.

As he lay with G in his arms, happy and content for the first time in generations, Ugetsu suddenly realized that he wasn’t as melancholy as he had been before. Somehow he knew everything would be alright: with the two of them working as hard as they could on their relationship, nothing could stop them. It had always held true when they were alive, so why couldn’t it when they were dead? They’d find a way to be together forever, he was sure of it.

Ugetsu closed his eyes and buried his face in G’s hair, smiling.

An eternity with G sounded like the best thing in the world.

--

Alaude stared up at the large, gray building, not sure what to think of it. It looked the same as it always had been, though, of course, much, much older. The glass windows were still tinted with dark bullet-proof glass and the walls were sturdy and smooth. The building did have some differences, though, as it had been upgraded with the new technologies of the century: a state of the art security system was built in, and the cloud guardian could see small cameras above the front entrance. He smirked to himself.

Who knew that the CEDEF would last for so long? Alaude couldn’t help but feel pride that the organization he’d created was still going strong after all these years.

A yellow flame erupted a few feet away from him, and the cloud guardian looked at it, not surprised. He had suspected that Knuckle would eventually find him here: the sun guardian was the only person who knew how to find Alaude when he really wanted to. He was the only one who really understood him and what he was thinking. Alaude smirked.

Maybe that was why he loved him so much.

When Knuckle’s spirit came into focus, he looked up at the CEDEF’s headquarters and nodded. “I knew I’d extremely find you here!”

“It isn’t hard… for you.” Alaude followed the sun guardian’s gaze and looked up at the building again. He had an itching to go inside, but something held him back. He had known everything and held every secret in the palm of his hand for so long that he felt out of place not knowing the CEDEF’s current business, and yet…

He didn’t want to bring up Knuckle’s secret again. The sun guardian had seemed to finally find a peace with himself and his actions in his death, and the cloud guardian didn’t want to ruin that by bringing back bad memories. Gregario’s betrayal still angered him, and all he really wanted to do was burn the file so no one would ever be able to take advantage of Knuckle again.

Suddenly, with that thought, Alaude knew what he had to do. He turned to Knuckle. “Come inside with me.”

“Eh?! You want me to go in?!” Knuckle shouted too loudly. “I extremely don’t want to know everyone’s secrets!”

“You don’t have to look,” Alaude snapped irritably. “It’s not like we keep that stuff out in the open. Besides, it’s important.”

Knuckle still looked skeptical, but he agreed to go in. Alaude’s brow furrowed a little as they passed through the wall of the building; he didn’t know why it was so hard to get Knuckle to do things sometimes. However, his irritation soon passed to be replaced with a feeling the cloud guardian wasn’t used to: awkwardness.

The two had made amends briefly before they’d died, but Alaude wondered if that still stood: could he still consider Knuckle as his lover? Had Knuckle even forgiven him? He had no idea what the sun guardian thought of him anymore – he wasn’t good at human emotions, which was why he despised them so much. He assumed the sun guardian wouldn’t come looking for him if he didn’t want to be around him, and yet that gave him no clue on where they stood romantically.

Alaude pushed the thoughts out of his head with a half-snarl. Screw it – he was done with emotions.

The two Vongola guardians walked down the hall in silence, Knuckle slightly hanging back as to allow Alaude to take a lead. The cloud guardian was grateful for the spacing, as it gave him an excuse not to take up conversation.

Heading for the boss’ office, Alaude was faintly surprised that he remembered the way. Though the outside of the building had remained unchanged, the inside had changed a lot – the wooden floors had all been replaced with a cold tile and the walls that had been degrading were now enforced with some kind of shiny metal. There were new corridors as well, which Alaude assumed were used to house the new information and employees as the agency grew.

Alaude only got lost once on the way, though he pretended he hadn’t made a wrong turn and Knuckle never questioned. Eventually, however, they found the door of the office that had been Alaude’s so long ago. He hesitated for a moment outside – did he really want to reenter this solitary world?

“I wonder who’s the boss now?” Knuckle commented, breaking Alaude out of his thoughts. The interruption was all the cloud guardian needed to reawaken his curiosity, get over his hesitancy, and walk through the door.

Inside he was met with a giant picture of himself.

It was hanging on the back wall, behind a giant mahogany desk that definitely had not been Alaude’s when he’d ran the agency. It was the only thing on the walls, for the rest of the office space was taken up with cabinets of files that Alaude had found the most important to keep tabs on (or at least he assumed those were still the files there). He had no idea where the hell the picture could’ve come from, for he had absolutely no recollection of posing for anything of the sort; besides, he hated that kind of thing. However, the portrait was frighteningly accurate and it gave Alaude the creeps looking at it.

In contrast, Knuckle was at his side laughing his guts out.

“O-oh my god! I don’t know what to the extreme I was expecting, but it definitely wasn’t that!”

He then proceeded to laugh harder. Alaude’s eye twitched but he said nothing and instead walked directly over to one of the file cabinets, trying to ignore the stupid picture. When he opened it, he was relieved to see that all of the files he’d put in there originally were still there: he absolutely hated when his stuff was out of order. He pulled out Knuckle’s file and flipped through it. It had everything from his birth place to his dark secret (except for his relationship status, which Alaude had omitted).

“What are you looking at, Alaude?” Knuckle asked. When the cloud guardian turned to face him, he saw him put down a picture that had been sitting on the desk: in the picture sat a blonde man with a blonde beard. A smile was crinkling the corners of his eyes and he was holding a brown, spiky haired child on his lap. As Alaude walked over to the sun guardian to show him the file, he noticed that the kid had an unbearable likeness to the Vongola Decimo.

Weird how the connections kept piling up.

Alaude handed the file to Knuckle, who took it hesitantly. He had a hard expression on his face, and the cloud guardian couldn’t suppress the tinge of guilt at bringing up bad memories. However, he knew it was important.

“Did you have to bring this up now?” Knuckle whispered after a while. The cloud guardian noticed that the priest’s hands were shaking on the file as he gently took it from him. He took out the segment with Knuckle’s murder on it and held it up so that the priest could see it.

“Yes.” Looking Knuckle straight in the eye, Alaude lit up his hand and set the paper on fire. The sun guardian let out an exclamation of shock as he watched his secret burn until it was nothing but ashes. Alaude then flicked his wrist, and the debris scattered; when the dust settled, no trace of Knuckle’s crimes was left. The cloud guardian then put the file back in its place in the cabinet.

Knuckle was stunned. “Alaude… W-why?”

“I should’ve done it in the first place.” The cloud guardian met Knuckle’s eyes. “There are better ways to remember you by.”

At first, Knuckle didn’t seem to know what to say. However, tears started brimming in his eyes and, before the cloud guardian knew it, he was hugging him and kissing him as he laughed through his tears. Though Alaude usually found sudden human contact repulsing, he found he didn’t mind. Slowly he raised his arms and wrapped them around Knuckle’s waist as the priest cried on his shoulder.

“Thank you,” Knuckle was whispering. “Thank you.”

Alaude didn’t generally do good deeds – he was all about making people crawl through the world on their own. He believed independence was the only strength. If people couldn’t get by on their own, they had no right to get by. He hated helping people (because when did he ever receive help as a kid?).

However, this was different. Knuckle was important to him; as much as he hated to admit it, he wanted to help the sun guardian. He wanted to make sure that no one ever hurt Knuckle again, that no one would ever take advantage of him again, that he would never have to watch the priest die right in front of him again. When he was alive, Alaude had thought his feelings for Knuckle had been a sign of weakness, some small part of him that still needed to depend on someone else. Now, however, he knew it was a strength: by protecting someone, and allowing that someone to protect him, bonds grew between them that could defeat any enemy. Really, Alaude should have known that. After all, hadn’t he enjoyed teaming up with Knuckle, and hadn’t he watched the enemies become completely pulverized between the two of them?

Love was a small price to pay.

“So,” Alaude said when Knuckle had finished sniveling. The priest stood up straight to look at him. “We’re okay now?”

Knuckle seemed to get his meaning because he laughed at him. “I never thought I’d extremely hear you being worried about your relationship status!”

“I’m not worried, I’m just—”

Knuckle kissed Alaude on the lips, effectively shutting him up. The cloud guardian could feel his smile against his lips. When they broke apart, the priest grinned at him. “Hearing you say that made me extremely happy, so I’m not letting you take it back! And yes, we’re okay now.”

Alaude found himself smiling, which was odd. He wasn’t used to smiling. In fact, it was kind of hurting his face. However, knowing he was together with Knuckle again brought an intense warm feeling in his chest and he found he couldn’t wipe the smile off as he usually could. He admitted he loved Knuckle, and he now knew that the priest still loved him. Not much made him happy, but this did. Another odd feeling that he’d have to get used to.

But, as they kissed again under the creepy picture of the cloud guardian, Alaude thought that he wouldn’t mind getting used to it.

--

Lampo was happy to see Giotto and everyone again. Truly, he was.

But why did that require him to test some cow kid so he could receive Lampo’s inheritance?! His?! How could that little squirt ever be worthy of anything Lampo had accomplished?! Sure, it hadn’t been much, but he sure as hell was better than a stupid cow! The whole thing was offending his manhood, and he didn’t want to do it! He refused to!

Or at least, he tried to. Giotto was always good at getting the upper hand on him.

Lampo had claimed himself a castle when Giotto found him. It was nice and abandoned, which was always good for ghosts (as the teen knew from his countless movies and video games). It had pretty stained glass windows that could be opened and, when Lampo looked outside, a whole amusement park spread out in front of him. For someone who’d never really had the chance to grow up, it was the best place in the world for him to build his haunting kingdom.

Now that he was a ghost, endless possibilities were open to him! He could freak out anyone he wanted! People would be so scared that they would write stories about him, and then Lampo could have his own horror story! He would be a legend; the king of all ghosts! What could be better than that?!

Of course it would’ve been nice to be alive for a little longer, but there wasn’t much he could do about that. Thinking about it only got him depressed, so he didn’t.

However, that day, Lampo was in a melancholic mood. He’d had fun haunting people, but watching everyone, especially all the little kids that visited the amusement park, was bringing up old memories of his childhood that made him sad.

He didn’t remember much before Giotto had taken him in. He’d been too young. Occasionally he remembered an icy palace and a snow-covered garden that he’d played in when he was very young, but the memory was never solid. And, every time he thought he remembered his real parents, they would be replaced with memories of Giotto being in that garden with him. It had made him so confused that he’d asked the Vongola boss about it, but he’d been clueless as to what he was talking about.

It had made him sad, but maybe it was better that he didn’t remember the parents that had abandoned him.

His memories with Giotto were much happier. But thinking back on them now made him sad as well; those days had been so simple. He wished he could go back to those days, where everyone played in the snow together. Giotto had always seemed so mature to him then, even though he had only been thirteen when he’d taken Lampo in. He had warmed so easily to Giotto that it was almost scary: he had no problem believing that the Vongola boss was his real dad. Though Giotto had always been truthful with him, sometimes Lampo wished he’d been able to believe that he had never been abandoned and that his real father loved him.

Sighing, Lampo swung his pocket watch around his finger. Giotto loved him. He knew that, so nothing else mattered. Just sometimes he couldn’t help but wonder about his true heritage.

As he stared out the window, it suddenly got really hot by Lampo’s head. The teen jumped, letting out a screech as he turned around, only to see that it was just Giotto. His cheeks flushing slightly in embarrassment at the Vongola boss’ amused smile, Lampo stubbornly turned back in his chair and looked out the window.

“So this is where you were, Lampo,” Giotto commented. Lampo just knew he was looking around, judging the place the lightening guardian had staked out for himself.

“Got a problem with that?” He grumbled, folding his arms across his chest. “I decided to make this my territory, and none of your judgement is going to make me change my mind.”

Giotto laughed lightly. “I wasn’t judging you, Lampo.”

“Sure you weren’t.”

“You’re not going to like this,” Giotto went on, completely ignoring the teen’s tone, “but you’re up next.”

“You realize that I’m King Ghost, right?” Lampo snorted sarcastically before he gave a small glare over his shoulder. “I will not stoop to the levels of cattle.”

Giotto frowned. “That was mean, Lampo. What will happen to the Inheritance of the Lightning Guardian?”

“I can’t stand that snot-nosed brat,” Lampo spat. “The Vongola would be better off if they just left him behind.”

“Weren’t you angry when we did that to you? Do you wish that we’d prevented you from becoming the lightning guardian because you were young?”

Lampo flinched. After being dead for so long he’d kind of forgotten about the fact that he too had once been a snot-nosed brat to Giotto (though of course the Vongola boss would never call him that). If Giotto had followed the teen’s words just now, Lampo wouldn’t be where he stood today. In reality, he probably would’ve died a long time ago. Though he couldn’t remember his real parents, he did remember the horrible loneliness and hopelessness that he’d felt when he’d been abandoned. If Giotto hadn’t been there for him…

He couldn’t wish that fate on anyone. Not even a cow child.

“I guess I chose the correct location for his Inheritance test then,” the teen muttered as he stood and walked to the window. He leaned on the sill as he looked down at the people below; small children and their parents. “Can’t say no to you, Giotto.”

“Thank you, Lampo.” The teen could hear Giotto’s smile in his voice.

“Whatever.”

The Inheritance test wasn’t as bad as Lampo had feared, though it had been incredibly boring. He was just glad it was over. The cow kid had passed his test, though it had taken him a lot longer than Lampo had expected and had resulted in the explosion of part of his castle (he was still pissed about that). Though he did have to admit that he’d liked the robots that had appeared randomly. They were a nice touch, and it made him feel like he was actually in one of those action movies he’d watched so long ago.

But still. It had been annoying. Especially when he’d had to stamp his disgusting little butt.

“Guess I should reward myself with some fun,” Lampo said to himself as he solidified outside of the amusement park’s arcade. When he didn’t want to be seen by anyone but other ghosts, a white mist surrounded his fuzzy form; however, when he wanted to act like a mortal, he could disperse the mist and be seen by others. He always did that when he wanted to play video games at the arcade. After all, nothing was more annoying than little kids freaking out about a game playing itself and bothering Lampo when he just needed some game time.

The modern games were… interesting. They were definitely a lot different than in Lampo’s day. Someone had created a yellow little pie circle that went around eating white dots and dodging ghosts (that was Lampo’s favorite modern game). He also liked the game where you were a big monkey smashing through things and collecting bananas. He didn’t like the street fighter games as much, just because they reminded him too much of the battle that he’d died in. It made him uncomfortable.

When Lampo entered the arcade, it was almost empty. No one usually came in during the late hours of the amusement park, which the teen was always grateful for; he didn’t want to share his games with snotty kids.

However, there was someone there when Lampo headed for the Pac-Man game. Pac-Man was often busy, as it was popular, which was why the teen always preferred to come with less people. Those that were still there were often teenagers, spending the last of their money and time on the games that they’d grown up playing. So it wasn’t that strange that Pac-Man was occupied.

What was strange was that it was a girl. Lampo wasn’t sexist, and he believed that everyone, regardless of gender, should be allowed to be interested in video games, but he just didn’t see very many girls in old arcades like the one in the middle of his amusement park. He especially never saw girls at the nighttime hour when he always went.

Peaking his curiosity, Lampo creeped to where he could get a better view of the girl playing. He whistled. She was pretty: she had light auburn hair that had a greenish tint from the Pac-Man screen up in a messy ponytail that looked like she’d merely pulled it back because it annoyed her. Her eyes, completely focused on the game, were the prettiest shade of hazel Lampo had ever seen. She wore a Nirvana T-shirt and a pair of skinny jeans. However, even though Lampo was completely blown away by her appearance, that wasn’t even the best part.

She kicked butt.

When the teen pulled his eyes away from her and watched her screen, Lampo saw that she had transcended any level he’d ever beaten. Her form was calm and controlled as her fingers flew over the controls, making one of the hardest levels of the game look easy.

Lampo was seriously impressed.

He watched her until she lost, which was about twenty levels past Lampo’s high score. By that point the teen could barely think; his mind was so dazzled he almost missed his chance. She patted her hands on the machine, as if she was telling it, “good match” before she began to walk away.

Before she could get too far, Lampo caught up to her. “Hey, that was amazing what you just did there!”

“What?” She didn’t sound angry, but confused. It took her a while but then her eyes lit up and she made an “o” shape with her mouth. “Oh, you mean on Pac-Man? It wasn’t my best run – I didn’t get much sleep last night so I wasn’t up to my usual par. Oh well. You win some, you lose some, you know what I mean?”

Lampo’s mouth dropped. “You mean that wasn’t even your high score?! But that was amazing! Your hands were just so controlled and you were kicking some serious butt back there…!”

He broke off, as she started to laugh at him. Lampo was suddenly self-conscious, wondering if he was sounding like a dork. He decided to switch tactics as he walked with her out of the arcade.

“Do you come here often?”

“No,” she didn’t seem to mind the questions, or even that he was walking with her, and Lampo couldn’t help but wonder if he wasn’t the only nerd that had followed her out of the arcade. “I just heard they had a rare game here, but got distracted by Pac-Man. He’s my favorite.”

“Mine too!” Lampo shouted, getting a little more excited than he probably should have. “I haven’t played many games from this age, but…”

“What does that mean?” She asked suddenly, and Lampo felt like punching himself. He should’ve been more careful about what he was saying!

“Uh… I mean, uh, I play a lot of old-school games! You know, like, ‘Spacewar!’?”

Her eyes widened. “I didn’t even know you could still find consoles that played that these days! That’s awesome – you have to let me play it sometime!”

Lampo stood there awkwardly, trying to figure out how he could say that he no longer had the game without revealing that he was really dead and born about 450 years ago. He liked this girl, and he didn’t want to scare her away. Yet he couldn’t deny that he didn’t have the game anymore, or even the console. How could he explain that he had played it back when it was common?

“Can I ask you a personal question, since you’ve asked so much about me?” She said suddenly, poking Lampo in the chest.

The teen flushed. “Uh… Sure?”

“Your name?”

“Oh.” Lampo smiled – he’d worried it was going to be something he wouldn’t be able to answer. “Lampo.”

“Huh, you have a funny name,” she teased. “I’m Ronda.”

“Well you have a funny name, too,” he teased back without even thinking. For a moment he worried he’d offended her, but she just laughed good-naturedly.

“I guess we make a good pair then! Hey, are you coming to the arcade tomorrow? We could play a few rounds of Donkey Kong, see who’s better.”

Lampo’s heart leaped to his throat. She liked Donkey Kong, too? Man, could this girl get any more amazing?! Though Lampo had a feeling he would get beaten to a pulp, he didn’t even mind – he would meet her at the ends of the earth if she’d asked him to.

“I would love to!”

She smirked. “Cool. Then I’ll see you tomorrow, around five maybe?”

Lampo couldn’t keep a silly grin off his face. “Till then, Ronda.”

“You even talk old,” Ronda teased before she waved and walked the opposite way from Lampo’s castle.

The teen knew he was in love. As he watched her go, he almost felt his dead heart’s erratic beating and couldn’t force away the flush that was still prominent on his cheeks. He felt elated, like he could just float away. With his family, Lampo had very different views of love: though in some ways that itself was another view. Love was personal for each person. Lampo knew that all he wanted in a partner was someone he could have a lifetime of fun with, and he felt that would be possible with Ronda.

He knew he couldn’t have her. He knew that it would be unfair to both of them, as it would be impossible for someone who was dead to ever stay with the living. Besides, he was only free temporarily. However, he also knew that he would enjoy her company as much as he could before he had to return to the Vongola ring.

And, when he did return, he would always remember Ronda: the girl who stole his heart when he thought it would never beat again.

--

Knuckle had come to peace with his religion.

He’d finally found his loophole. Though love for Alaude had filled his heart when he’d died, he had to admit that his last thought was his fear that he would be going to hell. After all, God couldn’t forgive all of the sins he’d committed; Knuckle had truly believed that he deserved nothing more.

Now that he knew he wasn’t going to hell, however, but preserved for eternity, he realized that all along his love had never been a sin. Though the isolation was its own type of hell, it wasn’t the kind that Knuckle had expected. God hadn’t punished him for being in love; He hadn’t really rewarded him either, but the priest was perfectly fine with that. If he could be free to love Alaude to his heart’s content, it didn’t matter if he wasn’t accepted into heaven.

God was behind Knuckle’s choices, and nothing had ever made the priest feel freer.

That was part of the reason why Knuckle couldn’t stop smiling like an idiot as he stood in front of the Vongola Decimo, Alaude at his side. They were about to grant Ryohei and Hibari their Inheritances, and that was his other reason. He wasn’t really sure why, but it made him extremely happy that he and Alaude were giving their Inheritances together. It just seemed like another sign that Knuckle was destined to be together with the cloud guardian.

Nothing else could make him smile harder.

A voice that sounded a little too familiar for comfort spoke up. “But more importantly… Will you fight me?”

Knuckle had to hold back extreme laughter as he watched Hibari stand there, frosty-eyed with his tonfas raised in an offensive stance. It was extremely weird that the Decimo resembled the Primo so much, and yet the sun guardian felt a warmth in his chest looking at young Hibari.

He remembered when he thought Alaude was a huge jerk. The cloud guardian had joined the Vongola (if you could call it joining… Alaude was more associated with the Vongola than an actual member) shortly after Knuckle, and the priest remembered how much he’d been frustrated with him. At the time, he couldn’t understand why the cloud guardian was so set on being distant and aloof from everyone. It had bothered him. What was the meaning of family if not a sense of closeness? Alaude definitely hadn’t been close.

However, that opinion had changed after Knuckle had begun to actively discover why Alaude kept his distance. The more he pissed off the cloud guardian, the more he began to see a new side of him. He saw a man who loved nature; he saw a man who fought to the death to protect his comrades when he had to. However, more than that, he saw someone who didn’t want to open up to anyone in fear he was hurt. Knuckle didn’t think Alaude was actually conscious that he was doing that, but the more time he spent with him the more the priest saw it. It broke his heart, and for reasons unknown to him at the time, he’d fought to change that. He didn’t want to see the cloud guardian lonely and sad anymore.

Though it had taken time, and lots of it, Knuckle had been able to get to the point where he could have an actual conversation with Alaude, be able to call him his companion. Alaude’s frozen heart had begun to melt. Somewhere along the way Knuckle had fallen in love with him and now, after all these years, nothing made him happier than seeing Alaude in a state of, if not happiness, peace.

Seeing Hibari now, it was like he was seeing Alaude for the first time. It made him nostalgic. He just hoped there would be someone to warm Hibari’s heart the way Knuckle had done for Alaude.

“He’s exactly the way you used to be,” Knuckle chuckled to Alaude, giving him a knowing look.

Alaude met his gaze for a moment before he turned away, scoffing.

Knuckle just laughed. He knew the cloud guardian only put on airs when there were other humans about.

Facing the Decimo guardians again, and in perfect unison, Knuckle and Alaude said, “I now bequeath your Inheritance.”

Later, Knuckle met Alaude in a small park in the middle of Namimori’s residential area. When he materialized, he found the cloud guardian looking up at the cherry blossoms in full bloom. A small smile graced his lips. He’d always loved Alaude’s soft spot for nature. Not wanting to disturb his lover’s peace, Knuckle quietly walked over to stand at the cloud guardian’s shoulder. Alaude didn’t physically note his presence, but the priest knew he knew he was there. Knuckle smiled like a doofus again as he looked silently up at the pretty flowers.

If he’d learned anything in his relationship with Alaude, it was how to be quiet for a long period of time.

“Do you still believe in God?” Alaude asked after a while, surprisingly breaking the silence.

Knuckle was prepared for the question, knowing that it would’ve come up eventually. “Yes. I know you don’t approve, but my beliefs mean a lot to me.”

Alaude turned to stare at him. Knuckle admired his cool, blue eyes. “Even after you’ve seen the afterlife?”

“Yeah.” Knuckle laughed before he dared to lace his fingers through Alaude’s. “All this has shown me is that God isn’t extremely against me and you.”

The cloud guardian looked away, but he didn’t remove his hand. It was a while before he replied, but when he did he was so quiet Knuckle almost didn’t hear him. “… I’ve always known that.”

The sun guardian smiled sadly. He was fully conscious of how much pain his religious problems had dealt to both of them. He moved closer to Alaude and pushed a lock of his blonde hair behind his ear as he leaned forward to kiss him gently. The cloud guardian responded almost immediately, his forehead touching Knuckle’s as he kissed back. When they parted, Knuckle kept his face comfortably rested on Alaude’s, his eyes closed.

He wanted to savor this moment as long as possible.

“I truly am sorry for all the pain I caused you; that was the extreme opposite of what I always worked so hard to do.” Knuckle squeezed Alaude’s hand. “If it makes you happy, then I extremely promise to never let my religion get between us again.”

Alaude smirked as he pulled away gently. Knuckle met his gaze, surprised by the raw emotion on his lover’s face. It wasn’t often that Alaude opened up so completely, even to the sun guardian.

“I’m not used to being happy,” Alaude murmured. “All my life I believed that I had to push people around if I didn’t want to get pushed myself.

“I still believe that,” he added hurriedly when Knuckle began to grin at him. “It’s just… I think I can get used to being happy… with you.”

Knuckle was smiling so hard his face was burning. “I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me, Alaude.”

The cloud guardian scoffed and looked away, but Knuckle knew him well enough to see the humor in his eyes. “Don’t get used to it, herbivore.”

The priest laughed out loud at that. Alaude hadn’t called him an herbivore for nine generations and a few years. It was the nickname the cloud guardian had given everyone who hadn’t earned his respect. Apparently he’d picked it up from a nature documentary that he’d loved as a child, as Knuckle had learned later, since the “weak animals” to him had always seemed to be called “herbivores.” Though it had once annoyed the priest, he now found it endearing.

“I’ll try not to, carnivore,” he retorted, trying hard to control his laughter.

Alaude only smirked before he leaned in to kiss Knuckle again.

As they stood there, kissing under Alaude’s favorite item of nature, Knuckle thought his heart would explode from his overwhelming emotions. Though he’d loved the cloud guardian before, he’d never loved him as freely as he did now. Before, his emotions had always been clouded with doubt; every action was laced with guilt. Now, he was free to love as much as possible.

It had been absolutely horrid in the weeks before they had died, but now that they had made amends, Knuckle knew they would never separate again. He loved Alaude, and he was willing to shout that to the rooftops if that’s what it took. Not even the curse of the Vongola ring would get in his way.

Nothing could extremely convince him to leave Alaude. Ever.

--

Daemon woke up confused and lost. Usually solitude didn’t affect him, but that eternal darkness and isolation had. If it was possible, it made him go more insane than he already was.

He’d spent two generations waiting for Elena. He then spent two more agonizing over the fact that the fates truly were cruel if he’d done everything that he’d done when he was alive, only to never see his fiancée again. It only took one generation for his agony to turn to cold-blooded anger. It wasn’t directed at any particular thing; he just hated everything in existence. For three generations he funneled his frustration and pain into finding an escape from the blackness that engulfed him. It was only in the latest generation, when the Vongola Decimo claimed possession of the Vongola rings, that Daemon actually focused on what was going on around him. That, however, had been preceded by a bout of madness.

By that point, his mind had been so grated on for an impossible amount of time that he truly went insane. He had entertained himself with his own illusions for so long that he had no idea what was fake and what was real. Time and space were irrelevant. Sometimes he would wake up, annoyed at someone laughing in his ear, only to discover he was the one laughing.

He had quite literally lost his mind in the blackness that had snatched his soul.

When he was released from the ring, he almost didn’t notice. The light of the setting sun did reach him, however, and confused him further. He didn’t know what was blinding him. What existed outside of darkness? He had no recollection of who he was or what he was doing; he remembered falling through darkness. His mind would flicker through memories like an old movie so that eventually they became nothing but fiction. However, there was one thing he could never forget.

Elena. Where was she?

“Elena!” Daemon shouted, stumbling to his feet. Vaguely he processed that he was in an abandoned building, but he could only focus on a girl that was sitting in front of him. Blinded by his own madness, Daemon kneeled and grabbed the girl’s shoulders, sobbing in relief. “Elena… Oh gods, thank you for keeping her safe…”

“Who’s… Elena?” A high voice questioned. The mist guardian heard the fear in it.

… That wasn’t right.

Slowly Daemon raised his head to look at the girl in front of him. What he saw nearly shocked him into unconsciousness.

She… was him. Though her hair was darker, it was cut in the same way that he had always had his hair. It spiked sharply in the back while the bangs were parted to each side of the face. G had always teased Daemon, saying he looked like a pineapple with his haircut. The mist guardian had always ignored him, but…

… Wait. Who the hell was G?!

“No… Who are you?!” Daemon screamed as he backed away from the girl, clutching his head. “Who am I?!”

“I-I’m Chrome,” the girl stuttered, looking as frightened as she sounded as she shivered. “And you’re… Daemon Spade, r-right?

Daemon Spade. Yes, that sounded right…. Didn’t it?

He started laughing, though his mind thought it was coming from somewhere else. Quickly his anger returned; he was sick of that damn person laughing! Couldn’t he have any peace?! “Shut up!!”

Chrome had stopped shaking, and was standing from where she sat on the ground. She began to slowly approach him. He watched her, not recognizing that she was closing any space – it had all been irrelevant in the blackness.

Suddenly he found himself outside, surrounded by a group of people he didn’t recognize. At first glance. They were just intruders to his kingdom. He ruled this place; or at least someone in his ear kept telling him that. When he looked down at the crowd, however, he saw someone that made his desire to protect his palace stronger.

“Giotto!” He roared, his vision turning red.

He had almost no recollection of what happened next. He had vague memories of splitting himself into five different people, and fighting figures that sometimes looked like the Primo, sometimes didn’t. He remembered that the girl he’d thought was Elena had changed into a man and fought him. He remembered Giotto jumping in front of himself, or someone that looked like him, and blocking Daemon’s strikes.

But none of those memories were solid. For all he knew, his delusional brain had made it all up.

The first thing he was conscious of, the first thing he was conscious of in years, was the softness of the bed he was lying on. It seemed to wrap him up in warm arms and he sighed in content as he felt his mind cleansing.

He didn’t know for how long he lay there, but his scattered mind began to pull itself back together. He remembered Elena in all her glory, though he’d never really forgotten her. He remembered the pain and anguish at her death, and how he’d blamed his family for it. Along with those memories came the ones of when he would sit with the Vongola and have fun. Goodness what a strange concept. He used to play soccer with Lampo in the back courtyard, even occasionally letting the child win when he was in a good mood. He used to have tea with G and Ugetsu; he used to attend Knuckle’s sermons with Elena. He used to talk with Giotto, confide in him like a brother. He’d never gotten along with Alaude, but he remembered all of that too. He remembered Ricardo, the bitterness he’d felt when he’d been betrayed, and he remembered dying next to Giotto’s corpse. He remembered all of the death he’d caused.

But, most importantly, he remembered who he was: he was Daemon Spade, Giotto’s mist guardian.

“Coming out of the fog?” Giotto asked, suddenly at his side. He was sitting on a chair next to the bed that the mist guardian was lying in. When Daemon looked at him, he thought he saw bags under his eyes and tired lines across his face. He wondered how long he had been sitting there.

“Please don’t celebrate my good health with a pun,” Daemon sighed, sending a weak smile to his friend.

Giotto paused, before he laughed. “God, I didn’t even realize! Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Daemon chuckled. Briefly, he realized that he and Giotto were joking around like old times, but he worried about commenting and breaking the mood. It had been so long that he didn’t want to ruin the moment. “How long have I been out?”

“Well….” Giotto looked grim.

Daemon frowned. “Tell me the truth, Giotto.”

“It’s… been about a week. Though I’m not sure if you can say you were “out.” You’ve been awake most of the time, just not…”

“… All there?” Daemon finished. Giotto was handling the situation quite delicately, like he was walking on eggshells, but the mist guardian was all too familiar with insanity. In his field, he dealt with it quite often in his enemies. However, it wasn’t often that he was submerged in his own craziness. In fact, it had never happened before. The mist guardian shuddered. “I’m not unfamiliar with the subject.”

“… Right.”

“Giotto…” Daemon looked askew at his friend. “Have you been taking care of me all this time?”

“Yeah.” Giotto cracked a small smile. “Ghosts don’t need sleep, it seems.”

“Why?” Daemon couldn’t stop himself from asking the question. He was done with being disillusioned; he didn’t want to believe that Giotto had forgiven him when it may not even be the case. “Aren’t you unbearably angry with me?”

The Vongola boss looked down at his hands. Daemon was preparing himself for bad news when Giotto surprised him, “No.”

“… No?” Daemon refused to believe he’d heard right.

“No,” Giotto repeated more sternly, raising his head to look the mist guardian right in the eyes. “I’m not mad at you, Daemon. I… blame myself for letting you go so easily. You’ll always be my friend, Daemon, no matter what happens.”

Daemon couldn’t answer for a moment. He was too emotional. Tears formed in the corners of his eyes and he tried to blink them away. Even after Giotto had taken him in when he’d left the aristocracy, the mist guardian wasn’t used to being considered a friend. He’d thought only Elena had loved him. In retrospect, it had probably been his fault that he’d drifted away when Elena had died; he’d never let the Vongola get close to him in the way that Elena had. His aristocrat habits had prevented him from building strong friendships with the only people that had ever cared about him, and the mist guardian suddenly felt a strong prickle of regret in his chest.

“Giotto…” Daemon’s voice cracked as he tried not to cry. “That means so much to me. More than you’ll ever know.”

The Vongola boss smiled, and the mist guardian realized that his Hyper Intuition had probably tuned him into the fact that Daemon was on the edge of tears. True to his hypothesis, Giotto held his arms out to the mist guardian. Daemon accepted the hug and the shoulder to cry on as he released his pent up sadness.

“Oh gods, Giotto, I miss her,” he sobbed after a while.

Giotto rubbed his back comfortingly. “I miss her too, Daemon. But let’s honor her memory right this time.”

Daemon could only nod as he cried. The two Vongola Primo sat in silence then, but it was a comforting silence as both Giotto and Daemon shared their pain together. Despite the sadness that pooled out of him, Daemon’s heart was warmed by the situation and he had to smile. It had taken him nine generations, but he’d finally found the thing he needed to go on without Elena: strong friendship. He would never betray Giotto again; he knew that. It would take a while for the other guardians to trust him again (he expected no less), but just knowing that he was back in the Vongola family was enough to heal old wounds in his heart. By finally sharing his burdens, he was allowing his pain to heal.

He was finally learning how to be happy again.

--

Cozart didn’t really know where he was. He’d guessed that he was somehow inhabiting the Shimon Earth ring, and that nine generations had passed since he’d killed himself, but he didn’t know if he was right or not.

Either way, he wasn’t happy. This wasn’t the death he had welcomed. Giotto was nowhere in sight, so all he’d really done was curse himself to an eternal hell of blackness and isolation. What had been the point, if he was still alone, still suffering from all of his past mistakes? As if that wasn’t enough of a constant reminder, sometimes his temple would still throb from where he’d shot himself. His stomach churned at the thought.

Why did he bother killing himself? Why didn’t he just seek happiness from his guardians? What had he done to deserve this eternal hell? Where was Giotto?

Sometimes, Cozart focused on what was going on in the world of the living. However, everything he saw depressed him. Enma was often as depressed and lonely as Cozart was. Every day, it seemed, he was beaten up for some reason and taunted for being part of a weak mafia boss. Cozart couldn’t stand it; he couldn’t stand that he couldn’t help Enma, and he couldn’t stand that his family had become such a nobody.

In his time, they’d been on par with the Vongola.

The Vongola. That, too, made him dissolve into tears. The two families hated each other now; instead of being the closest Mafia families, they were the world’s worst feud. As if that wasn’t bad enough, but Cozart knew that it was his fault the families had come to despise each other. If only he hadn’t left that note to kill Ricardo… Maybe the only friendship that had ever meant something to him would’ve been preserved.

For a long time Cozart just stared blankly into the blackness. Nothing motivated him. He’d given up on escaping a long time ago; he knew there was no escape. Besides, maybe this was his punishment for hurting Giotto, for being unaware and unhelpful while his friend was slaughtered…

Sobs escaped Cozart and his chest heaved as he let his tears flow down his cheeks.

Giotto…

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” Cozart whispered, even though he knew the Vongola boss couldn’t hear him. “I love you…”

Later Cozart wondered what would’ve happened if he hadn’t glanced up at the screen in that moment. He’d needed a distraction; anything to momentarily forget the pain and sadness that engulfed him when he thought about Giotto.

This distraction, however, nearly took the non-existent breath out of him.

On the screen was Giotto. Well, actually, it wasn’t Giotto, but the similarity in appearance was too creepy to be a coincidence. The kid that Enma was staring at had a large plume of spiky hair, though it was brown instead of blonde, that had only been a style on the Vongola boss. Bright orange flames burned strongly from the kid’s forehead and hands and his orange eyes were narrowed in calm concentration. It was unmistakably Giotto’s Dying Will.

Cozart leaned towards the screen, his tears dry, suddenly very focused on what was going outside. What was happening? Who was this kid?

“I will take revenge on the Vongola,” Cozart heard Enma growl. He watched as Enma opened a vial of blood (w-was that… Cozart’s blood? Gross! Who collected a vile of blood from a suicidal corpse?!) and poured it onto his Earth ring. The Shimon Primo watched in horror as he saw Enma’s arm mutate into something that looked like it belonged on a machine. “How dare you betray Cozart Shimon?!”

… Eh? Who betrayed who now?

Cozart felt bile rise to his throat as he watched Enma lunge at the Giotto look-alike. He realized that the kid had to be the Tenth Boss of the Vongola, but that realization tore his heart out as he watched the two bosses leap at each other.

He’d seen pictures of Enma, and had seen how similar he looked to himself. Watching his look-alike fight with Giotto’s look-alike, with the intention of killing each other, was unbearable to Cozart. It was like he was fighting Giotto. He would never do that, could never do that. Giotto meant everything to him. He was also pained as he watched the fight ensue because he’d felt a blossoming of friendship between Enma and the current Vongola boss.

They were letting a pointless feud get in the way of a lasting friendship.

Cozart stood. He couldn’t take it anymore. He’d watched years of painful bloodshed between the Vongola and the Shimon and he refused to let it go on any longer. He would restore the friendship between the two families if it was the last thing he ever did.

He had to make it up to Giotto.

“Stop!!” Cozart roared, his entire soul and heart behind the word. As generations of pain erupted from his being in that one word, he felt the world shift around him. The blackness was gone, replaced with a bright, spacious room. His sense of feel returned to him as he felt solid ground under his feet and air brush against his cheeks. When he looked around, he realized that he was standing right between Enma and the current Vongola boss, holding both back with his hands.

Before he could wonder how the heck he’d escaped from the ring, his hearing returned and he heard the shocked gasps from the people he was constraining.

“Who’s that?!” The Giotto look-alike was shouting.

“C-Cozart Shimon!” Enma screamed at the same time, ironically answering the Vongola’s question. “But how?!”

Cozart ignored the questions and threw both bosses onto the ground. His heart clenched with pain as he watched the two of them hit the ground, but he knew it was necessary. They landed next to each other, both grunting in pain. Cozart looked down on them, his voice deathly quiet as he spoke.

“This has to stop. I can’t watch another generation of bloodshed.”

Enma recovered first. He propped himself up on his elbows as he looked at Cozart’s aspiration, his face frozen in shock. “B-but, they betrayed you! The Vongola caused your death.”

Cozart’s eyes hardened with sadness. He walked over to Enma and kneeled before him. Faintly he felt his temple throb with the memory of pain as he looked the current Shimon boss in the eyes. “I don’t know how the story got so skewed. I caused my own death.”

“W-what are you saying?!” Enma’s mouth flapped.

“I killed myself, Enma.”

“B-but all the stories… about the Vongola’s ambush!” Enma pushed himself into a sitting position as he looked over at the current Vongola boss. He too was struggling into a sitting position. “They lured you into a trap and murdered you!”

“All lies,” a voice spoke up, coming out of nowhere. If Cozart had a beating heart, it would’ve stopped. He didn’t dare move. “The Vongola Secondo, Ricardo, always did like twisting the truth.”

Eventually, Cozart did turn. What he saw almost made him lose his composure and start bawling completely.

It was Giotto. Not a Giotto look-alike, but the real thing. His blond spiky hair stuck out on all ends and a strong flame burned on his forehead. His favorite black cloak hung around his shoulders and he wore a suit underneath. His I Gloves covered his hands. Cozart wondered if that was the outfit that he’d died in, as he was wearing the clothes he’d had on the day he’d committed suicide.

“Vongola Primo!” The current Vongola boss shouted as he looked at Giotto like he had two heads.

Cozart’s heart melted when Giotto smiled. It… had been so long since he’d seen it.

“Hello, Tsuna,” Giotto replied, nodding at his look-alike. Cozart couldn’t stop staring at the Vongola boss.

“How are you here?! I thought you wouldn’t come out of the rings again once your contract was over!” Tsuna was standing now. Enma, apparently not wanting to be at a disadvantage, soon scrambled to his feet.

“That’s true, but my contract hasn’t ended yet. There’s a second part; it’s just taken so long that you thought I had returned to the ring fully.”

“Second part?” Tsuna squeaked.

“Yes.” Giotto turned to look right at Cozart. “I was to grant you Inheritance; in return, I was promised help to find Cozart Shimon. And now I’ve found him.”

The Shimon boss felt his mouth go dry as tears welled up in his eyes. Giotto had spent this whole time… looking for him? Before he really realized it, he was crying. The thought that the Vongola boss didn’t absolutely hate him brought him so much relief that he couldn’t help but cry. In his eternal hell, he had repeatedly toyed with the idea that Giotto had wished his suffering after death on him. Though he knew Giotto would never do something like that, he couldn’t help but convince himself that he hated him because he’d ruined their friendship.

To know it wasn’t true was almost too much to bear.

“Giotto, I…” Cozart stood shakily as he tried to speak through his tears. However, he didn’t have a chance to continue as he started walking towards Giotto.

“Wait a minute!”

Startled by the outburst, everyone turned towards Enma. The red-haired kid was shaking so badly that the numerous bandages were starting to peel off his face. “What the heck is going on?! I’ve… I’ve been told my whole life that I had to make this family stronger so I could crush the Vongola and avenge you! Now you’re telling me that it was all a lie?! Then what actually happened?!”

Reaching Giotto, Cozart met his gaze. There was so much he wanted to say to the Vongola boss, but he knew it would have to wait. Right now, it was more important that they revealed the truth of what had happened so long ago.

Cozart faced Enma. “This is long overdue, but it’s time you knew the truth.” He glanced at Tsuna. “You should hear this too, Vongola Decimo.”

Tsuna flinched for some reason and nodded, turning his attention to Cozart and Giotto. Enma looked more frightened than anything, but Cozart sensed he was listening as well. The Shimon boss then nodded at Giotto; he was the only one who could start the story.

Giotto stepped forward. “It’s true that there was an ambush. However, the people involved in the ambush were not the exact groups that you’ve been told. In fact, it was my family, the Vongola Primo, that was lured into an ambush set up by the Vongola Secondo. We were then murdered by them.”

Shock coated the air like a heavy rain. Cozart sympathized; he understood what it was like to be told one thing all your life and then find out it wasn’t true. However, he also felt anger at Ricardo. That rotten egg hadn’t only killed Giotto, but he’d gone so far as to mask the truth to dissolve the friendship between the two families and make him seem like a victim. How dare he…

“Cozart?” Giotto was looking at him again, with a gaze that the Shimon boss couldn’t read. “Obviously, I don’t know what happens next. I’ve always wondered what happened to you after I… died.”

Though they were retelling the story for the Decimo, Cozart found himself addressing Giotto when he spoke again. It seemed important, somehow. “When I found out you’d died, I killed myself. I couldn’t imagine a life without you.”

This time it was Giotto’s turn to be shocked. His eyes widened until Cozart could see the whites around his irises. He seemed at a loss of words.

“You killed yourself because of Vongola Primo?” Enma questioned. His voice was the only thing that reminded Cozart that he and Tsuna were still there. “Why? I thought the Vongola and Shimon were always enemies.”

“Not always,” Cozart murmured, still looking at Giotto. “Giotto was… is my best friend. We created our Mafia families together. Everything I ever did was because he was there, backing me up. I can’t imagine being his enemy.”

Giotto was smiling again, and the Shimon boss thought he saw him get teary-eyed. Then again, he could just be seeing things, since his own eyes were beginning to fill with tears again. He held the Vongola boss’ gaze for a long time before Giotto broke eye contact to address the Decimo again. Cozart took the time to wipe at his eyes.

“If that isn’t reason to stop fighting, I don’t know what is. Your dedication to your families is admirable, but is it really worth losing a friendship over?”

Cozart wondered if there was some experience in that advice. After all, a similar thing had happened to the Primo.

Tears filling up his eyes, Enma looked at Tsuna. The Vongola boss looked back at him. “Tsuna, I… I never wanted to fight you!”

Throwing themselves into a hug, Tsuna and Enma cried out their apologies to each other. The sight was heart-warming to Cozart and he smiled through his own tears. He’d thought it would be impossible to stop the feud he’d caused, but maybe there was hope for future generations after all.

“Cozart,” Giotto said softly, drawing the Shimon boss’ attention away from the Decimo. “Can we talk in private? I think they’ll be okay from here.”

The answer to the question was so obvious that Cozart had to laugh. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Giotto laughed as well and, as the Shimon boss stared at him, mesmerized, he teleported them away from the building.

When Cozart felt solid ground under his feet, he opened his eyes. He hadn’t realized he’d closed them but, as he looked around, he whistled. He and Giotto were standing in a small garden that was surrounded by cherry blossoms in full bloom. The sun was shining brightly, the heat washing over the Shimon boss, and he could smell freshly cut grass.

He couldn’t help but grin. “I love it here.”

“Me too.” When Cozart looked over at Giotto, he saw the Vongola boss looking right back at him. “I hope we can stay here for quite a while.”

“I’m glad you said ‘we,’” Cozart teased. “I don’t want to be thrown back into the ring now that I’ve stopped that blood feud.”

“Cozart, I… I have to apologize for what happened so long ago…” Giotto looked pained. “I have no excuse for—”

Though the Shimon boss was touched, he waved Giotto off. “That’s water under the bridge, Giotto. I’m just glad you don’t hate me.”

“I could never hate you,” Giotto responded immediately. It made Cozart happy. “But hear me out. Please.”

Cozart listened.

“Being dead for a long time gave me plenty of time to think about things, and I realized something.” Giotto took a deep breath before he looked straight at Cozart. “I love you, Cozart.”

Cozart actually laughed. He was in too much of a shock to actually make a conscious response, so his body was on autopilot. “What?”

“I don’t think I realized it before because I was so shaken up by what was happening with my family, but it’s true. I love you, Cozart Shimon. Maybe I missed my chance all those years, but I thoroughly regret my actions. I hurt you so badly, when all along I felt the same way.”

The Shimon boss was speechless. Even his autopilot was shocked into silence. He hardly dared to believe that he’d heard right. Giotto… felt the same way? He’d always hoped it was true, had had numerous dreams where it was true, but to hear it for real? Cozart pinched himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. When he’d done that, and Giotto was still staring at him with a serious expression, he knew it was real.

Cozart grinned.

“Yahoo!” He darted forward, snatched up Giotto in his arms, and swung him around in a large circle. Giotto let out a strangled scream in surprise, but that was soon replaced with laughter as he placed his arms around Cozart’s neck. When he set the Vongola boss back on the ground, Cozart leaned forward and kissed him.

The kiss was so explosive, so dynamic, that the Shimon boss felt his knees start to wobble from the force of it. It was just so much what he’d always wanted; he didn’t think his poor old heart could take the level of happiness he was feeling.

When they drew apart, he barely stopped himself from whining in disappointment (gods, how embarrassing that would’ve been!). Instead, he pressed his forehead against Giotto’s and closed his eyes.

“Don’t ever leave me again,” he murmured against his lips. He could feel it when Giotto smiled.

“I promise. I also promise never to hurt you like I did before.” The Vongola boss grabbed Cozart’s hands and intertwined their fingers. “And these are promises I plan to keep.”

Cozart laughed, happiness blossoming in his chest as he kissed Giotto again. After generations of heartbreak, it felt amazing to feel something good for once. He wrapped his arms around the Vongola boss, pulling him closer to him as they stood under the beautiful cherry blossoms.

As Cozart held the man he had died for, he knew that this was how it should be.