Interlude: Hitman (3)

Renato has gotten into the habit of sleeping with his eyes open and be aware of his surroundings even while apparently vulnerable since he was seventeen and already gaining enemies. That means his flames are acutely aware of any sign of 'activation'. Sadly for Fong, there's a slight disturbance in the flames of someone waking up which he can easily detect. He mentally slow claps because it's barely noticeable in the martial artist and it's likely another flame user with their skill level wouldn't have noticed. But again, he's a Sun.

His internal clock is kind of fuzzy because of the amount of Sky flames in the air but it still tells him is almost five of the morning, one hour well before the brat usually starts his day. He tilts his head to where the martial artist is using Ozora as a teddy bear and lifts an eyebrow. He receives a serene smile, which is unsurprising but still very annoying.

Using sign language he asks, "Not going to say goodbye?"

Before the other can answer, he senses Sky flames abruptly waking up, Ozora pats Fong's arm with the grace of a drunk, which is amusing as he's the only one who didn't drink yesterday. The brat gives the other some space, probably being partially aware Fong's going to leave thanks to that intuition of his even without them informing him the day before.

"Don't go jus' like that, Fong."

Fong laughs softly because, for all his excellent poker face, he's a cheesy bastard in the morning thanks to a night of basking in Sky flames. Thanks to the absence of the boa dampening Ozora's flames, it's only gotten worse. Renato can't judge him, the drowsiness got him, too. It takes his flames a couple of minutes longer than normal to flush it out of his body to a bearable level. Fong is a Storm. It should be even easier for him to erase the effects, but he obviously chooses to enjoy it instead. Because of course, he does.

"An' breakfast first."

"Of course, mother," Fong mumbles against Ozora's hair as he smoothers the brat into a hug.

Renato does what any rational person would do and lies all his weight on top of them, making sure his elbow digs on Fong's side and his hip is on top of Ozora's ribcage. He pulls down his chameleon cap until it covers half of his face and rolls his eyes so hard it hurts when the only one finding the extra weight uncomfortable is Ozora.

"I'm going to suffocate, Renato!"

"That's what you get for using the thick covers."

"If I die, my ghost will so hunt you!"

Renato huffs and adds more of his weight, still annoyed the brat's keeping to himself some dangerous secrets. He understands it may not be his place as he's not his Element, but he doesn't really care.

Under him, a pure sound of frustration is heard at the same time he feels a strong finger hovering on top of a pressure point. That means Fong's also losing his patience and the fun's over. Ruffling the brat's hair, he uses his head as leverage to stand up. The little Sky groans but doesn't move out of the bed, letting Fong smother him onto another hug.

He shakes his head and goes to the bathroom, wondering if he should tell them how lucky they are that the Harmony factor in Ozora's Sky flames around the room makes them unable to get an erection. A thing he found out the hard way after spending the night with a Sky and made morning sex certainly a challenge. It's likely the little Sky knows, but still. Mentioning about the flustered mornings he could have had, simply for being a teenager sleeping in a too-warm environment caused by the high body temperature of a Sun and a Storm, sounds way too entertaining, if only because of Ozora's reactions.

The bathroom is small, but he's dressed in worse conditions so it doesn't bother him. He makes a mental note to take his pajamas back from his safe house in Spain, though. He already has used all the ones in Italy and Ozora's getting complacent after seeing them all, if the chameleon cap he gave him is enough to go by. The brat needs more surprises in his life.

When he goes outside, he can see Fong eating his bento and Ozora half sprawled on the table, talking.

"—Ornella-san will let me keep the TV, so bring some Chinese movies. I've never seen one."

"Want to do the sleepovers now, brat?"

Ozora looks briefly at him before returning his gaze to Fong. "Well, you already sleep in my apartment. When you return maybe we can do movie nights, right?"

"I would like that very much," Fong tackles before Renato can get a word in about that suggestion. "Though I'm unsure how much you'll be able to understand without knowing the language. Your aptitude at learning other languages is certainly lacking as your Italian is barely average."

If Fong doesn't manage to return, Renato's going to miss the harsh bluntness that comes from time to time and the longsuffering looks it manages to get from Ozora.

He really hopes everything goes well in China as he wants to groan just by thinking about what will happen if Fong is in actual danger. Renato doesn't need a super-powered 'intuition' to know Ozora will find a way to go to Asia and, Guardian bond or not, Renato will end up following him.

(And that's why Skies in general are so troublesome independent Elements who aren't one hundred percent into forming a bond: They can easily make one do their bidding without any obvious manipulation to help them.)

Renato sits in front of the bento with the yellow rim, barely twitching when he catches movement coming from the window as Ozora's so-called partner flies through the window once again, much larger than he remembers it being. It curls around Ozora's neck. Though instead of looking like a necklace, with his new growth now reassembles a scarf.

His fingers twitch for his gun at seeing what he now knows is a boa constrictor around the thin neck of the little Sky, a gift from an unknown Mist he hasn't formed a bond with.

"Hey. Mamoru," Ozora says as he scratches the top of the reptile's head as if it were a harmless pet. The head-butt he receives to the side of his collar, really close to where his pulse is, makes his heartbeat slightly faster and his muscles loosen in preparation for anything. Fong is any better and one can clearly see it by how bland his smile has become. "Did you found him?"

He lets out a silent breath through his nose when the boa moves away for Ozora to see him nod. He clearly expects something more, but when it becomes obvious the boa won't offer anything else, he adds, "Will he come soon?"

If an armless reptile could shrug, this one would have done so.

"He didn't leave a message?"

By now, Renato has reassumed eating his breakfast, presumably prepared by the same person who gifted Ozora his partner and he still hasn't been able to catch leaving the mentioned food so far. By the information Ozora has given about this mysterious friend of his, it's clear he'll appear when he wants to without giving a hint of planning to do it. So imagine his surprise when Ozora's animal partner opens her mouth and six small orbs come out. five are colorless and soft-looking but one holds a faint indigo hue.

His mask is perfectly composed as he continues eating as if watching a snake throw up things it shouldn't is a normal thing. Fong follows his example as they both see a curious Ozora inspect the orbs, but there's an unmistakable sharpness in his eyes there wasn't before. And he's sure he can't hide his own, either.

However, his carefully honed instincts don't detect any danger, so he waits patiently for an explanation.

By the way Ozora is sweating and is carefully not looking at him, maybe he should tone down his glare.

Maybe.

"I really don't know what these are."

"Don't you?" Renato asks smoothly, his tone making the other gulp.

"They remind of another set of… spheres, but they're no it, so… Um, no? We shouldn't touch them, just in case."

As if his hand has a life of its own and has not heard what Ozora's just said, it lights up with orange flames and grabs the indigo orb. The brat looks down at his closed hand when it starts glowing as if only realizing what he's just done. By his resigned expression, it's a regular occurrence.

It does not make him feel better.

"Brat."

Ozora twitches, but some of the weariness he constantly carries leaves. "I didn't know I was going to—Oh kami-sama, it's alive."

Now instead of the small orb being on his palm, he's grabbing it with two fingers, as far away from his person as he can, which coincidentally is close to Fong.

"What do you mean?" Fong asks, lifting a palm up to receive the orb. Ozora happily gives it to him and it doesn't take the martial artist a second for him to blink in surprise and let out a small "Oh."

Renato glares at him. "What is it?"

"I don't know how to explain it. It feels like a pulse, but…" he trails off, moving his hand close for him to reach the orb.

With no hesitation, he receives it and suddenly understands what the other couldn't explain. It's not a pulse what he's feeling, but it is pretty close. The orb looks as if it's made of crystal but it's softer than if it were made of rubber. There's also a warmth unlike Ozora's flames inside it that feels too aware to shrug it off as a simple object.

It also reeks of Mist flames.

He looks up when he catches Ozora's flames going off on the edge of his vision to see him now touching one of the transparent orbs.

" Ozora!"

The brat startles badly, orb falling out of his hands. Fong catches it before it can hit the ground.

"I—I was just curious!"

Renato glares harder. They don't know what these things are and the brat just goes and uses his flames in another one. It all irks him the wrong way. His blank expression is familiar as he's seen it in others with similar abilities. It's disconcerting to see how unaware the brat is of his own actions until he's already done it, but it's more worrying to see that small hint of desperation in his action. Fong's considering, fond hum distracts him briefly from his irritation, but he can multitask just fine.

Still glaring daggers at the brat, he asks Fong, "What is it?"

"This one's different. It doesn't feel alive, just… like Ozora's flames."

"Let's see it," he says, motioning his free hand. The other seems doubtful for a second, which he thinks is strange until he touches the orb and gets where the uncertainty comes from. It does feel like Ozora's flames. And that's the problem because Ozora constantly tries to hide his flames, always pressed tight inside his body, so not much is felt. They had a small clue of them the night before because of the lack of the boa, but to have that warmth, naked and pure, on the palm of his hand is completely different. It feels… It's wonderful.

He hesitates for an uncharacteristic second, and the flames inside the orb reach for him as if to reassure him, to coax him into using his Sun flames. It reminds him slightly of the comfortable feeling he gets when he's next to Ozora's side—his own excitable flames finally calm with the help of the other's Sky flames.

"He can be my Sky," a treacherous part of his brain thinks, the primal one that wants to only Harmonize and cares little for logic. He ignores it and returns the orb to Fong.

"Any idea what are these things?" At the way Ozora bites his lower lip, he adds, "And try to not lie."

"It's not as if I want to lie," Ozora mumbles, glancing down at the five clear orbs as he presses a palm against his chest. "Kawahira-san knows how much trouble I've with my flames. They can be rather overwhelming if I don't control them, after all. I think this is his way to help me with them… I feel a bit better."

He has some idea of the brat's problems thanks to yesterday and how drunk he woke up, but he's still suspicious and will be until he's met this Kawahira person. "Are they some kind of conduits then, or something to simply store them?"

"I think it's a bit of both? It's easier to push them back. I can feel better the…" His face carefully blanks, eyes widening slightly as his hand grips the material of his shirt. He then slowly looks up at them with the face of someone who has fucked up and is trying to go into denial. Fong grabs his hand gently in an attempt to calm him. It doesn't seem to work if the increasing hysteria he sees in the brat's eye is anything to go by. He's instead looking at their connected hands with dread.

"You always use your flames when you touch me. I—I just noticed." There's no question but Fong still answers with an affirmative, his smile never wavering. "Um. Is this part of Flame courting someone?"

Renato can't hold back a snort at Ozora's high-pitched tone. "What did you think Flame courting was about?"

"I did tell you it was to see if we were compatible."

Ozora slowly looks up, face reddening in clear embarrassment. Seeing it makes a sadistic grin appear on Renato's face. "Did you think flowers and chocolates were going to be involved?"

By how his flush is spreading, the brat really thought Flame courting would be something similar to its romantic counterpart… This could serve as blackmail.

"I can do that, too. If you prefer to—"

"Please don't." Ozora takes his hand back, looking wildly around before his gaze settles on the rest of the orbs. He grabs them and lights them up. "So, uh. These. Not dangerous then. That I am sure."

"Your intuition?" Renato says, humoring him.

"Yes. They're mine now, but… I think you should take one. Something tells me you'll need it." He touches the indigo one with the tip of a finger. "Except this one."

Fong looks up from where he's still practically cradling one. "We will need it?"

"Fong's the one who will really need it." Ozora hesitates before looking intently at Fong's hands. "Um. And your chopsticks, too. Take them with you and only eat with them, okay?"

The martial artist's gaze sharpens at the implications of what Ozora is saying. The brat seems aware of them as well, and Renato can't help but sigh softly at the sight of his grim expression.

Yes, it seems he's going to have to use his contacts to increase Fong's already well-known reputation; it's enough knowing the brat will be insufferable on Christmas and New Year because Fong won't be there. Perhaps a public allegiance between "The Eye of the Storm" and "The Greatest Hitman" will be enough? He really doesn't want to cross the Iron Curtain in the middle of winter to reach China just to keep the brat out of trouble.

"I'd prefer if you took one with you just in case, too. But it's okay if you don't want to," Ozora says, grabbing one of the clear orbs and infusing his flames in it. He holds it for him to take, but Renato does nothing more than staring at it. Has Ozora realized there are only six orbs, the same number there is of Flame types?

Is he aware of what offering one implies?

Are you trying to court me as your Sun? he wants to ask, but doesn't. He knows the answer and doesn't want to hear it.

"Um. Renato?"

The slight tremble in Ozora's hand as he moves to take the orb back, fragile and insecure, makes the choice for him. He throws one of his chopsticks to the brat to erase that pathetic expression off his face. The brat has to dodge so abruptly he ends tossing the orb. Not that it matters as Renato grabs it before it can fall. He then hums, half because the chopstick went through the wall instead of breaking as a normal one would have done and a half because touching one of those orbs is really nice.

"You can use it as a weapon, too," he cheerfully informs Fong, absently brushing the orb with the pad of his thumb before putting it inside one of the inside pockets of his jacket.

He briefly wonders if he has free time to get some warmer clothes for the brat before leaving. It's not making a Guardian claim if he has the money and the Sky can't take care properly of himself. It's merely his good act of the year.

Oh, well. He can always take some time.

He's not recognized as the Greatest Hitman for anything, after all.