Chapter 16

By the time, the Ninth leaves them in front of the building his apartment is, Tsuna feels the excitement of the night slowly seeping out of his body, making him yearn for his bed. The tiredness he feels so great he doesn't even panic when the Ninth gives him a card similar to the one he gave DeMorte when he goes out of the car—black and with the Vongola symbol on its back. The only difference being the lack of numbers at the front. But where there was a phone number on the one DeMorte has, Tsuna can feel the warm of familiar Sky flames of the Eight in the one he holds.

With just a touch, he already knows there's a small flame hidden—ready to appear on top with little difficulty.

He looks up from the object to the man sitting on the passenger seat, not reassured by the smile he finds.

"I don't know what kind of deal you have with my mother, but she's made it clear you're not a threat," he says, confirming his thoughts on who is the owner of the flame. His voice is soft, barely audible with the ruckus Zaid and Chiara-san are doing in the back, arguing as they are. "Will you tell me how you met?"

"I don't think it'll be a good idea."

The Ninth hums. "She said you weren't a threat, but nothing about if I should trust you."

Tsuna tries to smile and tell him what he really thinks about that, but he honestly doesn't know how to convey what he wants in Italian. He can say how horrible the idea is for the future, but he doesn't it'll be enough to satisfy him. It'll probably confuse him even more. So he chooses to reach for the arm the Ninth has on the window, until he can feel the soft texture of his coat, and uses his flames, not enough to make them visible on his hand but to warm it instead.

Enough for him to read some of his personality.

"Trust your intuition," he says, repeating the words Kawahira-san always tells him whenever they see each other. "What does it tell you about me?"

With a faint smile, he motions him to come closer and Tsuna does in an attempt to hear better his whispered words.

"I get you're kind. A good person, but..." His hand gently pries Tsuna's fingers away from his arm. His voice turns softer as he says, "You're selfish, too."

" Such a selfish boy you are."

Tsuna jerks a step back, his lips forming a firm line as he sees the sad smile on the Ninth's face.

"I'm still curious about you though. We will meet again, Natsu," are his last words. With a wave, the car starts. Zaid and Chiara-san press closer to the window to say their goodbyes but Tsuna's mind hasn't recovered enough of their balance to do more than wave back until the car is nothing but a spot in the distance.

He sighs, all the tension on his shoulder leaving him to leave the previous tiredness.

"Let's go," he says to Mona-san who still stands back. She nods, a large yawn interrupting whatever answer she planned to give, and follows him.

- x -

He hates those dreamless nights he's so tired he only remembers slowly closing his eyes, as if preparing to blink. Then, in the same way, he opens his eyes, only to then realize hours have passed. He's still tired, feeling as if no rest has passed in that 'blink'. His annoyance only increases when he realizes his neck has been in a bad position all night and now it hurts to move it. Under the thick blankets, he's not cold, but that's only a small mercy.

With a small groan, he removes the blanket away from his body and pulls his legs over the edge of the small couch, his feet a small distance away from touching the floor. He's cautious as he stands up; he knows how cold the floor gets in this time, after all.

"Morning," he mumbles as he goes to the bathroom. Mona-san, who is sitting in front of the table, doesn't answer, her gaze not moving from the Japanese breakfast in front of her. With a glance, he looks at his bed-couch and is slightly pleased to see it already turned into its couch form.

"This wasn't here before," Mona-san says when he comes out. Lips pursed, but other than that, her expression is blank.

Tsuna sits in front of her and grabs his orange chopsticks, briefly noting Mona-san's are indigo. He nods. "Yeah, I get how that can freak you out. A friend likes to give me breakfast. He's also a Mist. A good one at that. That's why you didn't notice him."

Or that's what he thinks. He's only seen Kawahira-san using Mist flames so far. But who knows with him?

"You knew," she murmurs with faint surprise. Then, as if the personality she has shown so far had been nothing but a cloak, her whole body language changes. The nervous posture is gone, leaving someone confident behind. Her face is impassive and strangely wary. "Since when?"

Swallowing a piece of fried fish, he says, "Since the beginning." He throws a look at the food in front of her. "Um, I would like to say, feel free to eat that as is not poisoned, but I know you're nothing but an illusion, so, yeah."

His nervous chuckles do nothing to ease the furrow between her eyebrows. "I heard Skies are usually perceptive because they're constantly harmonized with their surroundings, but that's not what you do. Not really."

"I do that too, you know."

"You do," she agrees with a tilt of her head. "I can feel your flames clearly in here, but that's not it. Your flames may be stronger than mine and it wouldn't matter. I wonder if it has to do with your resemblance with Vongola's primo?"

Tsuna narrows his eyes. "How do you know that?"

The portraits of the previous generations of Vongola are only known to the high tiers of the organization to his knowledge. They and a few of the heads of their family alliances. Something tells him Mona-san is not one of them.

"That will cost you, I'm afraid." Her lips curve up. "I'm an information broker, after all."

A knock interrupts the demands he wants to make. With a slight glare in her direction, he stands up to open the door. He doesn't need his intuition to tell him the one standing behind it is Mona-san. The real one and not an illusion.

He expects a copy of the girl he left sitting on his table, but he isn't surprised when he meets a person covered by a familiar cloak instead. Tsuna feels his throat dry, his intuition pounding a staccato inside his head. He ignores as best as he can, briefly wondering if it's a Mist thing to adopt the looks of their teacher. Chrome's hairstyle was the same as Mukuro's and she was her apprentice or something similar.

Tsuna really hopes that's it even if his intuition keeps yelling incoherencies.

"I can keep the information from being known, though," is the first thing the real Mona-san says after long seconds of silence. "It will still cost you."

He lets her enter with a stiff movement before closing the door and sees her floating to the previous seat she had been, the illusion gone. Well… if Mona-san is a she, of course. He doesn't know anymore. Her body is all covered and her voice is soft and gruff. But, well, she was the last genre used and Tsuna will use it. Though he should probably ask later when the business part is over.

He sits in the same seat as before, his chopsticks once again in his hold as he motions with a hand for her to join him, trying to remember if it's polite to conduct a business while eating breakfast. Her face gives nothing away and while Tsuna remembers Reborn teaching him about formal meetings, he honestly can't recall the words he said, aside from not showing weakness and not stuttering.

He blames the explosions Reborn loves to use in his lessons.

"I don't have any money to give you," he starts with because it's the truth.

There's a weird curve on her lips, the only thing he can see clearly of her. Then, a newspaper appears in front of him. He inspects it, noticing it's the same title as the one she had on the bar the day they first talked.

"Did you know that one of the reasons behind Vongola's fortune is the Stock Market? I investigated about it and came across the famous Vongola's intuition."

Tsuna looks up at her, his eyes gleaming orange. "You shouldn't know that either."

Her smile doesn't falter, though Tsuna can feel her eyes on his stirring necklace. He takes a breath and concentrates on his intuition. It doesn't talk, but it gives him a nudge of wariness. Of having no way of winning, even if he had the heart of killing her. He feels as if he lost the round without even having fought.

Dangerous, his intuition called her. And Tsuna now knows what it meant. But it also said she's important. So maybe he's not lost the battle.

"You want to use my intuition to gain money."

It's not a question and she knows it.

He looks down at the paper with a sigh. "Wouldn't this affect the economy or something?"

"Only if you're stupid. Your job will be to point me to what your intuition tells you. I'll do the rest." Her smile returns into a considering frown. "You can use it for yourself, too."

He starts shaking his head but stops almost immediately, remembering his first months in Italy. "What if I—Could I donate what I gain to other places?"

"Charity?" Her tone drips with derision, but she doesn't comment on it. "You can, of course. It will cost you an extra, though."

"More money?" he asks, voice strangely high. He's almost glad to see her shaking her head. At least he is until she points a pale finger to the necklace around his neck.

"I can't see it, but I can feel it. I know something is there. Tell me what it is."