Chapter 15

"It was amazing, wasn't it?" Chiara-san says when the music is no longer blaring in their ears and they can finally talk. Tsuna nods dumbly. "Oh my god, look at Natsu's face! You totally won him over to the dark side, Zaid."

Someone pats him on his back. "Do I understand, man. I was like you the first time I saw him."

Well, Zaid's flames are strong so he's more likely to be affected. He glances in the direction the Ninth and Coyote-san are and notices their relaxed expressions. Too relaxed. As if they just drank a couple of shots instead of watching a show. Tsuna wants to giggle for some reason.

Mona-san is trailing behind and Tsuna wants to talk to her even if a small part of his brain tells him he's saturated in flames and needs a moment to rest before he can be able of forming coherent sentences. But, well, he's curious to see what kind of reaction she has.

Coyote-san mutters, "It must be around here" and Tsuna's attention snaps away from the Mist user to see the trucks parked close. There's sound coming from that direction, not as loud as it's from where they came from, with the concert and all that started after the show ended, but it's obvious people are partying, too. They're probably taking advantage of the music that still reaches them.

Now that he's closer, he also notices the small tents between the trucks, some with light coming from their insides; others dark and lonely.

"Search for the tent with the letter 'S'," the Ninth says as people start noticing them and wave their arms as if to invite them over. They're laughing and seem nice but Tsuna doesn't understand a word of what they're saying. It doesn't sound Italian at all.

He moves closer to the others, afraid that someone will ask him to join and he won't have the heart to say no. It makes him want to reach the tent where DeMorte is faster. And he almost sags in relief when his intuition nudges him towards a direction.

"Over here," he says, grabbing Zaid's wrist to pull him to where he's sure their destination.

They follow him. It's not until he sees the cream tent with a big 'S' paint on the side that he realizes how bad of an idea is to follow his intuition with the Ninth so close. He wants to curl into a small ball and hide when he feels curious eyes drilling holes in the nape of his neck, but the sight in front of him stops him.

DeMorte is sitting outside his tent holding a white cloth on his nose, laughing at the face of a grumpy guy that's checking the back of his head with gentle fingers that contrast his expression. It wouldn't be really shocking if not for the bandages covering most of DeMorte's head and chest.

He stops laughing when he notices them, but the mirth is still there when he says, "Hello, there!"

Zaid immediately steps forward and extends his hand for the other take, expression solemn if not for the clear excitement wanting to bubble out of his body. DeMorte seems even more amused. He grins as he takes Zaid's hand with his free one not holding the gauze.

"It's an honor to meet you. Can I say you're really amazing at what you do? Because you are. You totally are. I've had this huge idol crush on you since I saw you riding that beauty."

DeMorte's laugh shakes his whole body. It's the kind of laugh that doesn't care about who is seeing and makes one want to join. Tsuna ducks his head a little, feeling a hint of secondhand embarrassment at the honesty and eagerness in Zaid's voice, but he's also smiling.

"That's nice and all, but what are you doing here?" the guy stands up from where he was kneeling and crosses his arms across his chest. "This guy here needs some rest."

Said guy rolls his eyes and Tsuna notices he's wearing eyeliner. It makes his eyes stand up but doesn't make him seem feminine at all even with the soft curve of his jaw. He's actually slightly disappointed that he can't see their color in the darkness.

"Don't mind him. He's usually like this even on a good day."

"I would have more good days if you learned how to take care of yourself."

"You know I heal fast!"

The other guy answers back in a language that sounds like French and he's sure are mostly insults. DeMorte follows his example and soon they're bickering in a weird language.

Chiara clears her throat until she gains their attention. "You seemed totally fine on stage."

"I was fine on stage. Amazing performance, if I could say so myself." He waves his free hand to his head in a distracted way. "This is an injury from the previous show. It looks worse than it is because everyone loves to wrap me with more bandages than are necessary."

"We wouldn't if you just stopped picking on them like a kid."

"I'm not a kid," he says automatically as if it's something he has to constantly repeat.

"Sure, sure." The guy turns his gaze back to them. "So? What are you doing here?"

This time is the Ninth the one who steps forwards. Zaid still seems to be in cloud nine from the handshake, so it's for the best.

"I talked with the manager a couple of days ago. I wanted to give you this," he says holding a black small card in DeMorte's direction. Tsuna can see the familiar symbol of Vongola on one side and a couple of numbers on the other. DeMorte inspects the card and the hand holding the gauze moves away to see it better, giving them a clear view of the red staining it.

"There's no name," he says.

"It would be better if you always kept it with you. If the Avenger comes, you will know when to show it."

DeMorte gives him a look, clearly not understanding what the Ninth means. But Tsuna does. The way he said the word avenger is a hair away from stressing the importance of it with the weight it truly deserves. The Vindice deserves that weight. No one but Mona-san seems to understand, but it doesn't surprise him as the Mafia is obscure from the public on a normal basis. The existence of flames and their police even more so.

He wants to ask why the Vindice may be interested in DeMorte but he can't tip off any knowledge that can lead to his real identity. Besides, it's not so hard to guess the way the guy uses his flames in a subconscious way. Tsuna knows how tight-lipped everyone is about flames and their existence.

"Is that a threat?" the guy Tsuna still doesn't know the name of drawls with deadly disinterest.

"Ethan," DeMorte snaps quietly, his hand on the guy's arm. After receiving a roll of eyes, he looks at the Ninth. "Was that a threat?"

His tone is light, but there's still warning hidden in there.

"No, not at all." The Ninth gives him the smile of a patient parent indulging a kid. "The times are dangerous and I wouldn't want for a talent such as yourself to be pulled into things you may not want. This is just as a precaution."

"Precaution?" DeMorte says with a healthy amount of wariness as he narrows his eyes. And Tsuna can't help but look at him. Really look. From the punk appearance to the well-hidden powerful flames, not active but very much unrestricted. He doesn't feel like a fighter like Hibari-san does; their nature is the same but they're not… similar. At all.

Just with knowing that, Tsuna already knows that if the Mafia finds him, they're going to destroy him until he's nothing more than a shell.

He really doesn't want to know what can happen with a caged Cloud.

That may be why, when they're leaving with Ethan guiding them, Tsuna lingers in his spot, just enough to give him a piece of paper with his address on it. The one of the new apartment he's already planning in renting.

"If you have questions," Tsuna says when he's sure no one can't hear them. DeMorte seems confused but still smiles crookedly at him. Tsuna turns around to follow his friends but something stabs him with dread and he stops. He takes in a shaky breath to compose himself. He looks over his shoulder as if to reassure himself the guy is fine, still free, and warm.

He swallows and brushes the side of his necklace until the scales no longer feel metallic. His companion opens her mouth, knowing what Tsuna wants without him speaking, and a ring falls onto his palm. He clutches it tight against his chest before walking to where DeMorte is.

With a deep breath, he extends his open hand in his direction.

"This is very important to me, but…" he trails off, his voice trembling even if his gaze remains intent. "Take it."

"Eh?" DeMorte blinks a couple of times before seeming to catch the meaning of his words and taking the ring in his own hand. He stares at it blank expression for a second too long, a finger fumbling with it. He looks up at him, confused. "Uh, are you sure?"

Tsuna smiles, his gaze not leaving the ring. "Something tells me you will need it."

"What?"

With a shake of his head, Tsuna looks back in the direction his friends went. He sees Mona-san lingering close to another tent, and while he can't see her well in the dark, he knows she's looking directly at him.

"I've to go. Um, you're an amazing stuntman, DeMorte-san." He throws a last glance to the hand where his ring is. "I'm just lending it to you, by the way. I expect you to return my ring someday."

Without waiting for an answer, he gives him a shallow bow and jogs after Mona-san.

"I'm sorry, were you waiting for me?" he asks when he's within her earshot.

"The others have just turned that corner."

Tsuna looks briefly at where she's pointing, not missing the way her eyes linger on the place above his collarbone. He ignores it, of course, and looks up at the sky. There's no moon or stars to see, only the mist caused by the rain of the afternoon. It'll probably rain again later and completely drench him until he's soaked to the bone though. He shouldn't have forgotten his umbrella in the bar.

"You really took your time there, Natsu," Chiara-san says as soon as they reunite.

Zaid looks back from where he has an arm around the Ninth's shoulders. "You've got an idol crush, too, right? Can't blame you, man."

A blush forms across his cheeks. He waves a hand at him a tad too forcibly. "No, no! That's—"

"Didn't you like the show?"

"Well, yes, but—"

"And he's amazing, right?"

"I'm not saying that he isn't, I'm just—"

Chiara-san stops him from continuing with a pat on his back. "I saw your face when it was over. I'm actually surprised you didn't act like Zaid there," she says as if that's enough argument. "Don't worry, Natsu, I also had a crush on Paul Glaser when I was about your age."

"Wow. Paul Glaser? Really?"

The Ninth is quick to narrow his eyes at Zaid. "What's wrong with 'Starsky and Hutch'?"

"What? Nothing, nothing. I just saw her more of a David Soul kind of girl."

Coyote-san chuckles. "Timoteo is the Soul kind of person."

"I so knew it."

"Soul is a great actor," the Ninth says with his nose turned upwards. An action so childish it makes him a person totally different from the one Tsuna remembers. "Better than Hamill any day of the week, anyway."

The disbelief in Coyote-san's expression could have killed a lesser person. "Oh, you just didn't go there."

The bickering starts, but Tsuna kind of tunes them out, not wanting to be pulled into the discussion he hovers back. He doesn't know anything about the actors or idols that are popular in this time, after all. And not even in his own was he so interested in them, even if he knew of them.

That puts him next to Mona-san, of course. She's trailing behind them, apparently not interested in series or movies either, choosing to instead look to the side where the light of a store is still on. Tsuna looks at it, too. Italy is the kind of country that seems to follow a schedule so almost all stores close at the same time, early. It leaves everything looking like a ghost town. The cover of every window has been closed because it's so close to winter, not helping to erase the image as something scary replacing the beauty the day holds.

Tsuna is kind of glad he came to Italy when the summer was starting. The days were complete hell because of the sun, but he's sure he wouldn't have survived if it had been winter instead. With the only set of clothes,he had in his possession those first months, he'd have died from hypothermia for sleeping on a alley.

Shaking his head out of dark thoughts, Tsuna blows some warm breath on his cold hands. Seeing the pink tips of his fingers reminds him Mona-san has his gloves and also of the question she asked him in the bar about motel's prices and the kind.

He honestly doesn't know what to do about that but feels he should do something about it. There are a couple of places that would accept what pocket change she says she has, but none he remembers open. Also, it's obvious leaving her alone will not stop her from continuing pursuing him.

She's dangerous, his intuition tells him. She's important.

He ponders the last bit as they reach the parking spot where they left the car. It's Saturday, the only day no one comes over to stay the night in his apartment unless it's necessary; his shot at some normal privacy. Before, he used to spend the whole night out and return early the next day because he didn't work on Sunday, but since meeting Fong and Renato he has only gone out three times in total.

He still has the night alone though; it hasn't changed. Maybe he can use it in his favor.

"Do you want to stay at my place tonight?" he asks when Chiara-san is already inside and he's holding the door open for her.

Mona-san looks up at him, stop mid-motion with one leg inside the car, as if surprised. Then she enters with a thud and some reluctance bleeds into her expression.

When he's inside and next to her, she whispers, "You're a tad too young for me."

His younger self will have spluttered and flushed so red at the implication. His current self can do the same if it is someone close to him saying that. But she isn't a friend, she's just someone who wants something from him and Tsuna doesn't know how far she will go to obtain it.

(She has confidence, his intuition tells him. In her act, in her powers—in herself. She doesn't care about the people around her as she doesn't find a need for them and is able to stand tall without reassurances. Possibly similar to Stranger-san, if not for how short her temper seems to be. Also, unlike him, Tsuna can tell that without her illusions she would be as lost as the worst of them.

She doesn't give the feeling of a survivor in the same level as Renato; nor adaptability. Instead, she has anger that burns similar to Fong's but without none of his warmth.

Determination, his intuition adds alongside, imagination. Two things dangerous in their own right.)

"It's true I only have one bed, but I have slept with others without having sex before," he whispers back, "Sometimes the warmth of having someone sleeping next to you is comfortable by itself." He shoves one of the hands he can barely feel inside his pocket and the other he extends it for a handshake. "Or I could sleep on the other couch. Deal?"

It takes her a couple of seconds, but soon she pulls out a glove off to shake his own, her fingers warm when they brush against his skin in comparison to his, making him wonder if that's part of the illusion or not. She looks shyly at him. "Just today."

She's important, his intuition repeats.

"Sure."