"There are seven types of flames," Fuuta says, "A different color for each." He grins at Tsuna. "They are also all named after weather patterns," he adds. Tsuna sighs. He doesn't know why he had expected this to make any sense. It appeared that the more something had to do with the Vongola, the less sense it made.
"Red, for the storm. This is the flame of Destruction. Blue, for the rain. This is the flame of Tranquility. Yellow, for the sun. This is the flame of Activation. Green for lightning-"
"Lighting isn't green," Tsuna says. Fuuta rolls his eyes.
"Each is for a color of the Rainbow," he says. "One of them had to be green."
"But why," Tsuna asks, "were they named after weather patterns." Fuuta shrugs, taking another bite of his breakfast.
"Ehh, who knows." He went back to talking about lighting. Tsuna feels that the reason for the weather pattern naming system was probably a bad joke that was taken too seriously. Or it could actually be really important and symbolic? Tsuna considers what he knows about the people in high positions in the Vongola. Probably a bad joke, then.
"- Indigo for the mist, but most mist users have slightly differently colored flames, lighter or darker or bluer or purpler…" Great, Tsuna thinks. How helpful. "Their flame is Construction. Purple for cloud," At this Fuuta looks around furtively, as if he thought that merely mentioning that word would summon something. "Their flame is Propagation." That doesn't sound very threatening. Fuuta seems distracted.
"You said seven flames," Tsuna prompts him. "That was only six."
"Oh yeah!" Fuuta says, startled. "Most people don't talk about the seventh one, since it's so rare. But you've got the Blood of the Vongola, and you're next in line and everything. Of course you need to know." At this he smiles sheepishly. "The seventh flame is orange, for the sky that holds all of the other elements. The sky's ability is Harmony, and it is within their capabilities to create a Resonance between all of the other flames."
"A Resonance?" Tsuna asks.
"It's also known as a Guardian Bond. Resonance is an older term for the same phenomenon. A Sky generally attracts people of the other elements, and sometimes bonds are formed. The Vongola bosses are famous for always having a full resonance."
"So you don't need a full Resonance," Tsuna clarifies, regaining the appetite that he had momentarily lost.
"No." Fuuta shakes his head. "Most Skies don't. The Cavarone boss only has one guardian."
"The Cavarone boss?" Tsuna questions. "Wait. Have I ever met a Sky?" Fuuta gives him a weird look.
"Uhm… have you meet Xanxus?" Fuuta asks.
"Yes, I've met Xanxus, but I don't see what… oh." Tsuna finished. Then he winced. There had only been four other people in that room besides Xanxus.
"He has already lost two Guardians?" Tsuna's voice cracks.
"Only one," corrects Fuuta, his eyes darkening. "Xanxus has never has a cloud Guardian."
"I guess that's...better?" Tsuna replies. He wonders why Xanxus has no cloud guardian. There's probably a story behind that, but it's unlikely Fuuta knows it. Besides, it would be rude to ask about it behind Xanxus's back.
"So," Tsuna starts, wracking his brain for what else he needs to know, "What flame type do you think I am?"
Fuuta stares at him blankly. "Sky, of course." He says. "I could feel you from the moment you entered the mansion grounds." Now it is Tsuna's turn to stare in shock.
"But I'm not special," He says. "I'm nobody." I'm worthless. He doesn't say that part out loud. He thinks that Fuuta heard it anyway. Tsuna clears his throat uncomfortably. "So I'm a Sky. can I… do anything cool? Make flames come out of my feet?" Tsuna's not sure if he actually wants to be able to do that. Fuuta giggles. It's a good sound.
"No, silly," he says. "You need a Channel in order to use flames." Then Fuuta's eyes darken. "You might not be able to use them at all," he cautions. "The flames are fueled by the will to defy death."
"Oh," says Tsuna. He unconsciously presses his hand into his side, biting down on phantom pain. "But there's no reason that I should have to use them, right? Not if I manage to put someone else in charge." Then Tsuna blinks. "What exactly is a Channel?" he asks.
Fuuta shrugs. "Most of the time it's a weapon." Tsuna sighed. Of course. Mafia. He didn't know what else he was expecting. Tsuna opened his mouth to ask more questions when the doors banged open.
"Coming through, coming through, important person, coming through! I, Lambo, am coming through!" It's a person in a cow print suit. It's a teenager in a cow print suit, Tsuna corrects himself. Another teenager, joy.
"Hello Lambo!" says Fuuta, smiling at him. "This is the Vongola Unedecimo!" He's back to the smile Tsuna doesn't like.
"No I'm not," says Tsuna.
"Traitor," hisses Lambo, who storms out the same door that he came in. Tsuna stares at the still swinging doors.
"Who was that?" He asked Fuuta, looking at him. Fuuta's hands were trembling. Well, Tsuna's good mood hadn't been destined for anywhere but a trash heap anyway.
"T-That was the Decimo's Lightning Guardian, Lambo," said Fuuta. Poor kid, that seemed like the kind of spat that happened between close friends. Not that Tsuna had any personal experience, but the theory was solid.
"Where'd he go?" Let's not ask personal questions, let's avoid personal questions…
"The Decimo's funeral is this afternoon," said Fuuta, quietly but steadily. "If he kicks up a big fuss right now he might disrupt the ceremony." Tsuna very carefully does not slam his head into the table. He really needs to get the ball rolling on this 'picking another successor thing. Time is passing him by, and all that.
"You're going to have to attend," Fuuta interrupts Tsuna's spiraling thoughts.
"Attend what?" Tsuna does not want to.
"The funeral," says Fuuta. Every time the word falls from his lips, he shivers a little bit, like he can't believe the sounds are really coming from him. It's a sad, sad thing. Tsuna doesn't want to think about it.
"I don't have a suit," he says instead. He knows that's not a good reason, or even a good argument. It's only breakfast and all he wants to do is go back to bed.
So far, this funeral has consisted of a staggering amount of strangers who tell him he looks just like his father. Not only is this a terrible, terrible falsity, it is making him want to do something drastic. Xanxus is in attendance, and is watching the trainwreck in not at all concealed amusement. Tsuna thinks he's seen one of them taking bets. Strike that, Tsuna knows they're taking bets.
The Decimo's coffin is covered in white lilies. Wrong, wrong. Skies shouldn't wear white, it's not good. Even skies that wear crowns of dirt shouldn't cover themselves in white. Wrong, wrong. Where's your flame, Decimo? The lilies sway, and Tsuna can see the outline of a fox curled on top of the coffin. He blinks, and it fades away.
The Guardians stand in front of the coffin, backs facing the rest of the crowd. Silver hair and Yamamoto stand side by side, next to the teenaged Lambo, a blue haired girl, the yellow flame user from Namimori, and Hibari Kyouya? What the hell, Kyouya-san. There is a priest, but he speaks very quietly. Or perhaps Tsuna's ears are buzzing? Who knows.
Fuuta, for reasons unstated, did not attend the ceremony.
Tsuna dives out of the way as the ground dissolves beneath his feet. He is screaming, he notes. Also, his phone is ringing. That's his mom. That's definitely his mom, thank goodness that she didn't call before this life and death situation, he would definitely have died of embarrassment if she'd called during the Mafia Funeral. Because habit will be his undoing, he reaches for his phone and answers it.
"Hi Mom," he says. He drops to the floor as a stream of fire goes directly where his head would have been. "Sorry that I didn't call yesterday, you know how vacations are." He does not know, actually, because he has never taken a vacation in his life.
"Of course, Tsu-kun," says his mother. She giggles. "It's good that you're having fun!"
"Yeah," says Tsuna, rolling on the ground to put out a fire on his tailor made suit jacket. "Fun." There's a bit of a clatter from Mom's side of the phone.
"Oh dear," says his mother. Tsuna starts paying a lot more attention to her side of the phone call.
"Is everything alright?" He asks her, his gut already giving him the answer he really doesn't want.
"Oh, I'm sure it's just a small disturbance, Tsu-kun," says his mother. "I went to Namimori to meet with some of my old cooking buddies." He needs to be back in Namimori right this instant.
"It's just that Namimori seems to be having a very big celebration? With lots and lots of fireworks!" She told him. If there's magic flames, then surely someone knows how to teleport. His mother his coughing slightly. "My, they seem to be kicking up a lot of dust." She chuckles. "Youngsters these days, so enthusiastic!" The Varia have a private plane, don't they? Tsuna considers his options.
"How dare you violate the tenth's ceremony!" A slightly familiar voice screams from behind him. Followed by a giant, disruptive BOOM, of course. Tsuna's phone falls from his hands and cracks against the traditional Italian flagstones, shattering. It was a very cheap phone. Tsuna stares at his only line of communication with the most important person in his life. Drastic measures, indeed.
He's always been good at drawing the wrong kind of attention.
Tsuna cups his hands to his mouth.
"Hibari Kyouya!" He screams. "Namimori is under attack!" My mother needs help and I am stuck here, in Italy. I hate Italy so much, it's truly unbelievable. Around him, the world explodes in purple fire. It feels soft.
"Sawada Tsunayoshi," says Hibari-san. He blinks, once. Then smirks. The smirk is very, very worrying. He disregards everything around him, due to the fact that most things- people- things are exploding around him whenever they get to close. Then he grabs Tsuna by the collar of his shirt, and jumps about fifty feet in the air, grabs a helicopter rope, and pulls them both up. Tsuna is witness to very little of this, having very sensibly fainted on contact.
When he comes to, the first thing he sees is Kusakabe, chewing on that very strange grain of wheat.
"Ah," says Tsuna, emphatically. He doesn't know what to do. Kusakabe helps him up off the ground.
"Kyouya-sama threw you out of the helicopter when we reached Namimori," he says, which explains far more than it ought to. Urgency immediately rushes back through Tsuna.
"Are the residents okay?" he asks. Please, please.
Kusakabe nods. "Only some minor wounds." For all that what he said is very positive, his face is grim indeed. "Will you be returning to Italy?" he asks. What is it with people asking things that Tsuna does not want to answer. Why.
He takes a deep breath. Sacrifice for what you believe in is important, it is so important.
"No." He says. "I'm not going back."
Kusakabe says nothing, shadows dark across his face. "Kyouya-sama is like-minded," he says. "He will not remain in Italy if the consequence is people daring to touch Namimori."
It's Tsuna's turn to nod. Five minutes to eternity.
"In the end, it will be the same," he says.
"That's good to hear," says Kusakabe.
"What's good to hear?" Tsuna asked, confused. Then he shrugged it off. "It's good to see you up and about," he told Kusakabe. Then he turned around and started heading for his childhood home. He needed to check on his mother, make sure that she was alright. Sleep in a proper Japanese bed. Go find some of his old tools. Wait for the laughing man.
Time is running out.