Chapter 24

(December 11, 1982 – Sunday, early morning)

"I'm not even sure how this happened."

From his side of the bed, Tsuna can help but agree. His heads pounds and his mouth still feels a bit funny though so he doesn't voice it. Zaid turns his head to look him better, clearly not happy with Tsuna's lack of words. It makes him wonder how is it possible for him to be so lively when Tsuna's sure he drank at least twice what he did.

Well, considering how he doesn't like getting drunk—the memory of Iemitsu sprawled on the sofa, cheeks flushed, stupid smile on, and the smell of the beer bottles surrounding him appears as soon as he thinks of the word—and he's a lightweight, maybe he should cut him some slack. But he's being too loud so he won't.

"I mean, I was surrounded by babes after my third win and you had your weird power on so that pretty girl didn't leave since you started talking. Chiara was the one who kept changing dancing partners every five minutes, how is it that she got lucky while we didn't?"

Weeeell, Tsuna slow mind thinks, pretty sure if Zaid had really wanted, he'd have gone with the first person who winked at his way. He didn't, of course. And that's explanation enough of how clearly down he is and not in the mood for that kind of company. In Tsuna's case, his muscles were still sore to even walk and he wasn't going to leave his tipsy friend behind so he could brood alone. That, more than the pain, is the reason why he decided to stay by his side when Chiara announced she was going to leave early, a really tall and handsome guy holding her waist.

Luckily he's sober enough to not say that aloud as he's pretty sure Zaid won't be happy to hear it.

"Dunno," he says instead, tongue too heavy for him to pronounce the words correctly without some real effort on his part. "Those pants were pretty tight though."

Zaid nods sagely. "That they were. She has the right legs and knows how to use them, man. Smart."

"I wish I had nice long legs," he mumbles, kicking one leg for emphasis, being careful to not brush it against Zaid's. "'m too short and they're too skinny."

"Your legs are fine; thin but with a nice form that fits your ass. Like a runner's, though you don't run, do you? You would still look good on a tub skirt, I think. Better than me anyway. I've got dad's bowlegs."

"They make you look cool when you walk, so not skirts for you but definitely high heels."

"Really?"

"Sure. Chiara-san says you've got the butt for it, anyways."

There's a silence in which both turn to stare at the ceiling blankly. As if they realized at the same moment the weirdness of the conversation they just had, they slowly glance at each other, eyes bright but strangely aware as they silently decide to erase the last minutes from their memories.

Zaid's the first to look away, shifting a little uncomfortably in his spot, carefully adding some of the distance that got lost between them while they talked. The action most would shrug off as nothing but coincidence makes everything sharper for him, tipsiness slipping off of him like silk. It's then when he realizes Zaid hasn't touched him at all since they met at the bar, which is weird as Zaid always greets him with a kiss on each cheek and a one-armed hug in the usual Italian fashion, making a show of it because he knows how Tsuna gets with that kind of friendly contact.

Tsuna tilts his head to the side, making sure his flames still are tightly compressed into a small ball inside him and there's no lingering across his veins. Considering Mamoru only hides his presence and serves as a shield; she does very little to help him in pushing his flames deeper into himself. That work is all his, which is hard enough in a normal day, today's been hellish. Like using a straw to pour thick honey kind of hell, only that for all the foreign flames are dense and sluggish, they are also a tug away to snap happily back in place.

It'll take a while for him to do it without a conscious effort, but he knows he's done a good job so far as to not attract more attention to himself or to bother Zaid's traces or harmonization.

His friend shouldn't shy away from him.

Unless…

"Timoteo-san told you."

There is a faint tension leaving his friend frame to be replaced by surprise and Tsuna turns fully to his side to get a better view of him. "… He did."

"Everything?"

Zaid nods, eyes strangely sober as he answers, "About his position in the Mafia? Yes, though I already had a pretty guess about it. The flame business I didn't see coming though, but he explained everything about them and what's happening to me. He gave the choice to deny the bond before it fully formed and became permanent."

The brooding expression from normal returns again, but there's something there that he can't believe he's missed considering his familiarity with that special flavor of resignation that's half part exasperated and the other half fond. Tsuna's flames may not be at hand for him to get an actual confirmation but it's not hard to know what he's chosen.

"How did you two met anyways?"

His expression lightens, a smile curling his lips. "Nothing great or anything, really. I was playing and winning, as usual, when I saw the bartender offering one of her experiments to lil old Timmy. She thought it was cute to create a drink on the fly and name her creations after the people she flirted with."

"Were they good?"

"Well, if you were lucky you only ran to the bathroom after trying one."

"Er. So you warned him?"

Puffing his chest, Zaid says, "but of course. Timmy was the damsel in distress and I, the amazing Zaid, the knight in shining armor."

Tsuna knows him enough to not believe it. "Something tells me there's more to it."

"… Well, I may have won more than some people accept and needed an excuse to leave."

"Ah. Now it sounds real." Ignoring Zaid's offended huff, Tsuna sighs, letting the silence engulf them for a moment. It's comfortable but slightly nostalgic. "When will you tell your grandma that you'll go to Sicily?"

Zaid snorts. "Sending me off already? Man, I wouldn't leave uncle Giorgio alone without having found a replacement first, y'know? And you know that would take until the end of winter to train them properly."

"You're avoiding my question," he says around with a small smile.

"Hey, now I believe I've got the right to avoid it considering you knew everything and didn't mention it at all!"

His expression is set in mock accusation so Tsuna doesn't feel guilty at all. "Omerta, remember? I may not be officially part of the mafia but I still have flames, so."

"Yeah, a Sky too, Tim mentioned it. He also said to take you to the Vongola Christmas Ball that's going to be in two weeks from now, a request from her mother, apparently. She'll be expecting you. Ha! I knew you would pull that face! Don't worry man, he'll get us the tickets so we'll return quickly and in one piece."

Tsuna doesn't bother smothering his scrunched nose. "He'll present you as his Lightning when you don't even know how to use your flames?"

The 'is he out of his mind' is heavily implied and just on the tip of his tongue.

"… It's a masquerade."

He can't help the giggle unbefitting of his age that escapes him at the thought of wearing a hannya mask to that Ball, which is telling of how tipsy he still is. Maybe he can contact Daemon again and ask him if he can get him an original one. He also would need to talk to Mona (Viper?) and talk about how much money he can borrow to buy a suit, or at least something nice enough. He sighs deeply and closes his eyes. An opportunity to talk to Ottava sounds nice. It's something he's wanted to do but him laying low and being a 'no-one' in the Mafia makes it near to impossible to even consider asking for an audience with the current leader of Vongola.

"Nat?" He opens his eyes, looks at his friend, now also on his side facing him. There are no curtains in his bedroom and the dim light is barely enough to distinguish his dark skin and pajamas. He looks tired but for some reason, he gets the mental picture of someone ready to place the last piece of a puzzle when he looks at him. Not in the sense that he was incomplete before, but more like in disarray and now… he is not.

"Yes?"

"Will you teach me how to control my flames?"

Tsuna honestly doesn't think he's the best to teach someone when he barely has enough idea what to do with his own flames. There's also the problem that he's not a Lightning, but… maybe they can learn together. He's his friend, after all.

"Sure."

Even in the dark of the night, Zaid's grin is pretty clear. "I'll take it as payment for letting you stay here, so no need to thank me, man."

"Yeah, su—wait. What? You were the one who said your house was the closest!"

"And you took advantage of my drunken state. Don't worry, I get it. Old habits die hard."

"Damnit. That they were only bed-mates!"

"Uh-huh. Well, if you don't mind me, I'll go to sleep now. I want to be by Chiara's apartment when she does the walk of shame."

"… I don't think there will be shame in that walk. Did you not see the way she was eating that guy's face?"

"Don't worry, there will be when she realizes I took all her make-up and hairbrushes from her bag."

There's shocked silence.

"Kami, you're suicidal. I think you're confusing shame with anger," he says in a soft tone that doesn't quite hide his amusement. "Can I accompany you?"

"Sure. The more the merrier!"