Chapter 59

He steps away from her, Daemon leaving him alone as he does so. He puts the card in the inside pocket of his jacket and nods at her. "Thanks for the dance," he says even as the song still plays out. "It was informative."

Without bothering to hear her answer, he leaves. He doesn't run but only because of Daemon's ghost hand in his, silently guiding him to where a balcony is. When he reaches the place, he can't help it. He takes the mask out, not being able to breathe well while using it. He takes gulps of air when is out of his face, but it doesn't help. His lungs don't seem to process the air, leaving his insides burning. Everything feels disconnected from his body as if he were only a puppet master holding the strings to his limbs. It scares him. It scares him how he can't even feel the wind across his cheeks. He wants to grab something real to stop feeling like—like this. Like he's a no-Good and he already failed again and why can't he do anything without screwing—

His hand tries to go for the rail but another stops him. Is immaterial for a moment before it goes solid and warm. Then reality asserts itself and he takes a small shaky breath as he is pushed into an embrace, easily recognizing the form pressed against his.

It takes him long seconds before he can speak again.

"Will you kill me if I—if I—"

Daemon hushes him. "You won't."

"I don't need that." He shakes his head against his chest, fingers digging into his back. "Tell me you will. Please."

"Your Intuition won't let you," he says as if that's what he wants to hear.

Tsuna wants to sob, but Daemon's caresses on his head relax him. He presses his face against the crock of his neck and breathes his scent, the same fancy perfume he let him use just an hour ago. It's nice and soft, unlike the harsh edge that makes the man. He concentrates on that, in their contrast, while he tries to calm himself. It takes him a while but he soon feels better.

"Thank you," he murmurs, a soft, tired sigh leaving him.

When he doesn't receive an answer, he looks up. Daemon is not facing him, which is not surprising as the long nose of his mask doesn't let him. Instead, he looks towards the room where people are, looking amused at something.

It's a foreboding expression.

Slightly separating himself from Daemon, Tsuna turns around, a blush on his face at thinking of some stranger watching his outburst.

A man stands under the archway, a heavy aura surrounding him.

He knows that man.

He's wearing a red mask with two white marks on its forehead, two black dots between the eyebrows, alongside an equally dark chin. It does nothing to hide his identity. Not with the familiar Zhongshan and that long braid.

Tsuna steps back from Daemon as if his mere skin burned, trying to ignore that weird laugh of his at his actions. He clears his throat. "Um. Hello, Fong."

The suffocating aura doesn't leave, if anything, it increases. "Ozora."

"So, this is, er. I mean, his name is... Misuto," he finally says, feeling even more stupid for saying that name out loud, especially because Fong knows Japanese and can clearly tell it's a fake name. He briefly glances back at Daemon. "Misuto, this is Fong, a friend."

"A pleasure," the Mist says with a mocking bow. Then with that mischievous glint in his eye, he adds, "I've heard so much about you."

"Oh? Strange as I haven't heard anything about you."

Daemon looks at him with a mock-hurt expression. "Is that right, Tsu-kun?"

Tsuna narrows his eyes at him, wanting to call him out on his bullshit. He doesn't though. He doesn't like to curse, after all.

... Not out loud, at least.

"Don't call me that," he says, no pouting at all. To Fong, he tries his best to explain who Daemon is without really telling him who he is. Is not his secret to tell, after all. "He is my Mist friend? The one that makes me breakfast?"

If anything, that makes it worse. And he doesn't know why he's feeling so guilty. Is not as if he's been doing anything wrong!

(His intuition helpfully says otherwise.)

He tries to duck his head but Daemon's finger on his chin stops him. Right. He's a Sky. A proud Sky. He needs to look like one.

Wait. Where's his mask?

He looks around before Daemon helpfully hands him his mask. Tsuna nods at him before grabbing it. He cleans his eyes for any trace of tears, before trying to put it on. Trying being the keyword. Fong's hand stops him and when he looks up, his dark aura seems to have disappeared. "Are you okay?"

Tsuna glances at Daemon, silently asking him to leave him alone. The bastard ignores him.

Fong seems to see this as he also turns to look at him, putting out his mask on top of his head to show the annoyance in that smiling face. "Could you leave?"

"Oh? I'm sorry, am I interrupting your moment?" he says, sarcasm heavy on his tone. He then sighs dramatically. "Oh well, I know when I'm not wanted."

He turns around with a flourish, facing him. Tsuna's intuition screams but he doesn't listen, which is mistake number one. When his hand goes to cradle his face, fingers lovingly tracing his skin, Tsuna doesn't stop him, which is his mistake number two. When Daemon tilts his head and approaches, Tsuna just blinks at him, which is mistake number three. Then there's a peck on his lips that lasts less than a second before the man disappears, a fist in the place where his head had been.

He looks back at Fong, feeling honestly dumbfounded. The man looks back at him with red glowing eyes, an expression not unlike the one Hibari-san used to wear before biting someone to death.

He suppresses a shudder.

With a tentative hand, he grabs Fong's hand. Slowly, as if approaching a spooked animal. "It's okay. I'm fine."

"It's not okay."

Swallowing, he steels himself. Before he can overthink it, he stands on his tiptoes and gives the man a quick peck.

"See? Just a kiss," he murmurs with a weak smile. His face is sporting quite a blush, but he doesn't look away. He roots his feet to the ground and stops himself from shuffling, trying to portray as much confidence as he can. Though that disappears when he realizes he's just invaded someone's body like that. He bows and this time, without Daemon guarding him closely for signs of unelegant behavior, he manages to do it.

(A clear sign that the Mist has really left them alone.)