Summary: Tsuna is shunned by others because he kept talking to himself. They didn't know that he was talking to his 'babysitter' Giotto. A mafia boss who's dead for 400 years. Tsuna should have seen this as a prelude to chaos.

Warnings: Slightly dark (?) No pairings as of yet (still thinking about it). This fic was written on a sudden whim and I couldn't let the idea go.

Hmm. I know I shouldn't be starting a new story when I still have another ongoing. Oh well. Please forgive me? Also I would like to warn you guys that the best I could do as of now is to update my stories at least once a month since I'm busy with school and all that (it continues its terrible reign over summer). That means this won't be updated until next month, and MTT! would probably updated this week (I'm working on it). Let's all hope for small mercies.

Without further ado!

CHAPTER ONE: How It All Started

Giotto once thought that once he died, it would be just that. Death meant peace. Death meant he will stop existing and finally get the rest he had wanted since the age of seventeen. He wouldn't open his eyes again and feel the gaping hole inside his chest, or the persistent pangs of guilt that stabbed him over and over again. He won't be consumed by those dark feelings again. And his only regret when he dies was that he was the last to leave, his guardians going ahead of him by years.

Screw that.

When he died, his past continued to haunt him.

He had left Italy and Vongola in hopes that the sins of being the boss of the most influential mafia family in Italy would be left inside that damned office full of paperwork. Or the spilt blood that forever stained those expensive pinstriped suits and the stupid cape would stop coloring his dreams with the vibrant crimson red and the smell of gunpowder. He had gone to Japan in hopes of starting over a new life on the land of the rising sun, away from the dark mafia.

Oh no. Those accursed rings made sure to bring him to hell and back. At that moment, Giotto swore he really hated being a mafia boss.

Sure, being a mafia boss had its quirks. He was famous all around, got the dirty money many would kill for, women flocked around him like bees to honey (it didn't help that he was drop-dead gorgeous), he's got subordinates who would do whatever he says them to do, he's got the influence which tightly gripped the whole country of Italy.

He couldn't and wouldn't give a damn to any of those things though.

All he could care about right now was why he was standing (or maybe floating was a better word) in an endless expanse of sky. At first, he thought he was in heaven, but that hope was quickly crushed when he noticed the glowing crest of the Vongola famiglia glowing right beneath his feet. He tried to ignore the bright image and tried to find the high golden gates, or the chorus of angels who were supposed to sing their heavenly melody with harps accompanying their tune, or any kind of soul. Anyone.

After looking around and floating around, the sky started to darken. In no time at all, rain started to fall with thunder and lightning flashing across the sky. Such stormy weather couldn't be found in heaven, right?

Giotto finally stopped moving and sat down in midair, where he could feel something solid under him even though he could see nothing. The queerness of the whole situation didn't register in his confused mind though, he could only think of one thing. The only plausible answer his hyper intuition had been trying to tell him since a while ago.

A part of his spirit was trapped inside the Vongola ring of the Sky.

Imagine Primo's horror being trapped inside a ring alone, and later with a PMS-ing Secondo, Terzo who kept grieving over the fact he won't grow his hair again, Quarto who kept tattling about the different recipes he had wanted to cook, Quinto who keep looking at himself using every reflective surface he saw, a brooding Sesto, a self-conscious Settimo and Ottavo seething about the fact that even in death she still gets to be with boys.

The other Vongola bosses had to deal with a moaning and complaining Primo for years.

400 Years Later…

Giotto sighed as he sat on one of the countless cushions that lay around the endless expanse of blue, going as far as lounging and stretching like a cat on the soft material and he was sure that if any other Mafiosi saw him acting like that they would have thought of his manners as a disgrace. He'll do that in spite and because he was bored out of his mind right now too. But he guessed it was better than dealing with the other bosses fighting over something trivial. Giotto swore that they were starting to lose it. Just a little while ago, he saw the Vongola Quarto combing his hair with one of those forks of his out of boredom. Ah, another horror besides the paperwork.

The young man shook his head to get the disturbing thoughts out of his mind and opted to watch the white, puffy clouds pass by lazily and focusing on the calm blue that was present above and below him. Even after all these years, he still didn't know much about the place he was currently residing in. From what he knows, he's inside a three-dimensional pocket space inside the Vongola ring and apparently, every deceased boss gets to spend some high quality time inside it. Whether they were floating in the sky or if the sky was really solid since they were able to walk properly without floating away, is still a mystery. Whatever, at least they didn't fall out off the sky. Giotto didn't want to know whether they could die again, and death by freefalling for thousands of feet didn't sound endearing at all.

The sky also changed weather depending on their mood. He saw the sky turn stormy, with complete rain pelting down and harsh winds nipping at them .There were times where there was nothing but mist around them, creating images and sceneries they wanted to see. This happened when they were in the mood to take trips down memory lanes. There were also those calm days where there was nothing but the warm sun and the clouds, just like now.

It was fascinating to watch at first but the novelty quickly wore off. It was a fortunate thing the mist could provide them things to pass the time away. And it was also fortunate they could watch what was happening in the world of the living if they concentrated enough. It helped cure the boredom but Giotto had no interest to watch right now simply because there was nothing interesting happening down there, except watch Vongola Nono have his way with the ladies whenever he gets to ditch those wretched paperwork from time to time. Giotto couldn't find it in himself to blame the already old man for fooling around once in a while and apparently, the other bosses couldn't too. Giotto would have been the first to confess that he got addicted to chocolate as a means to release pent-up stress. And Secondo was guilty of wrecking the underground training room in the Vongola Headquarters at least once a week. And Quarto would visit the kitchen at ridiculous hours at night to cook something (a meal more than worthy for five-star hotels) and eat it all up in one minute. The Vongola bosses' guilty pleasures and secret stress-relieving techniques could go on.

"Vongola Primo," a voice said behind him and Giotto turned his head to see who it was. Daniela stood there with a small smile on her face as she sat down with him on the cushions. There were more comfortable chairs and sofas around actually, and Giotto even has a throne-like chair made especially for him, but due to reasons unknown the other bosses Primo preferred to lie down the invisible floor. Hence, the cushions and expensive rugs scattered around.

The blond gave a smile at the beautiful yet fierce-looking woman beside him. Giotto was remorseful of the fact that she ended up as a mafia boss wherein she could have ended up with other bright and successful careers in life. "I remember telling you to call me Giotto," he chided lightly as he watched the refined young woman blink and blush lightly at her mistake.

This was another thing that Giotto noticed all of them were thankful for, that in this strange world inside the ring, they didn't look old. It seems that their appearances are based when they were at the prime of their life as a boss. Their ages vary but not one of them had graying hair or heavily lined faces. Giotto is the youngest one of them at the age of twenty-three. Well, back to the topic.

"Giotto," she started again, "I was just watching my son, Timoteo, having a meeting with the Outside Advisor, Sawada Iemitsu. I think you'll be interested to what I learned."

The blond blinked before a thoughtful frown graced his handsome features. Sawada Iemitsu was the last living descendant of his direct bloodline, in other words, family. He visited the man from time to time to check up on him and at times offer some help without the man knowing but other than that, Giotto spent his time dawdling or watching other people and events away from the mafia for a change of scenery.

"What about him? Did something happen?" he asked calmly.

Daniela cracked a small smile. "I heard Timoteo congratulating him for getting married. Looks like your bloodline shan't perish."

Giotto sighed in relief and happiness for his descendant. The woman he was betrothed to was most likely Nana, the ditzy woman Iemitsu had met one day when hanging out in a cafe while in vacation on Japan. Giotto couldn't have chosen a better wife because she was exactly the type to bring in sunshine whenever she went, and she had a good and kind heart which was rare to find nowadays. These were what Giotto had observed on the occasions he dropped by to watch Iemitsu's daily life.

To know that he was getting married was both a joy and a worry to hear. Joy for obvious reasons and worry because Giotto knew that Iemitsu won't give up his position as the Outside Advisor of the Vongola for personal reasons. Iemitsu saw Timoteo as a second father figure after he saved him and his family from the one of the big-shot Yakuza groups in Japan. This was the reason Iemitsu can't leave the mafia because he saw his job as repayment to the Vongola Nono. There were high chances that Iemitsu would be away for mafia business and Nana would be left alone in Japan. And if they'll have a kid, the poor child would probably grow without a father. Not only that, his family would be a target for assassins and enemies of the Vongola. It was dangerous to have a family without knowledge of their ties to the mafia.

Now that he thinks about it, is marriage really okay for Iemitsu? The guy probably knows the dangerous possibilities and he still pushed through it?

Daniela watched as her predecessor frown and run his hand through his already messy hair a few times, already knowing what the man was thinking. She decided to offer her own advice.

"If I may suggest Giotto, you should visit them from time to time and check up on them."

The man blinked and then nodded his head in agreement. "Thank you for the information and advice Daniela. I shall visit them now," Giotto said as he excused himself. The woman nodded and they separated ways. Daniela off to the countless fashion magazines stacked on one of the misty coffee tables and Giotto towards their private areas.

Their private areas consisted of nothing but a wide space separated by a veil of mist and walls of tall and puffy clouds. They also have the freedom to design their own area as they want with the help of the Mist and make them more real with the help of Thunder flames. Giotto's space looked more like the small and crumbling hut he used to share with G during their childhood, with a small garden space in front where a big tree stood, shading a good part of the lawn. It was the home he knew before they founded the Vongola. Both of them were homeless kids who needed to take care of themselves out in the streets. Giotto, at the age of six, was already an orphan while G ran away from home due to abuse by his family - two kids who met each other one rainy day and shared one loaf of bread to get by their hunger.

The blond sat on the grass the way Indians did, his back against the tree trunk. He closed his eyes and concentrated, picturing the face of Iemitsu and Nana, though her features were a bit sketchy due to him only seeing her rarely. The grass in front of him started to blur, the green fading to grey before erupting to a mix of colors forming different shapes. Soon, he saw a scene of a typical sub-urban neighborhood, the image focusing on one particular house that was just like the rest.

He watched as the front door opened and out came a tall, well-muscled and slightly tanned man with blond hair exit the house. He wore a big goofy grin on his rough and rugged yet handsome face. His hair alone was a dead giveaway that he wasn't entirely Japanese, and he was a bit too tall to be one. He was wearing a simple white shirt and worn jeans which were so different to the expensive Italian suits he used to wear. His face was clean-shaven and his brown eyes alight with happiness, the complete opposite of the boss facade he always donned. Sawada Iemitsu looked really different when he was outside the world of organized crime.

He whistled as he opened the mailbox to get the newspaper and letter for the day while discreetly checking anything from Italy or anything remotely suspicious. He sighed when there were none and went back inside, cheerfully waving at a passing old couple.

The image followed Iemitsu as he closed the door and Giotto inspected the inside of their new house. It was quite simple with the shoe rack situated near the door and the traditional raised floor. Stairs towards the second floor greeted him and a short hallway leading to other parts of the house. Iemitsu kicked off his slippers and walk towards what seemed to be the kitchen.

"Iemitsu dear, breakfast's ready!" a voice chirped happily and Giotto was greeted by a sight of a beaming Nana. She had long brown hair that reached just above her face and warm brown eyes set in a delicately featured face. She was looking at Iemitsu affectionately. Just looking at the couple and immediately Giotto felt slightly green. He was a happy man by birth but certainly not a romantic mushy type. And he was born in a time that proper etiquette was a must.

"My sweet Nana," Iemitsu breathed out in a daze.

"Iemitsu dear," Nana swooned.

Giotto found himself closing his eyes and also pressing his hands to his ears for good measure. God, he felt like a child in the presence of these two, and also like a freaking intruder in their moment (which he really was). When a few minutes passed, Giotto opened his eyes again to see Iemitsu being fed by an ecstatic Nana.

Primo also noticed the slight bulge on Nana's stomach and he raised a brow. He didn't know he had been gone that long to miss their engagement and wedding. Nana was also a few weeks pregnant. He smiled as he watched Iemitsu cuddle Nana's stomach and talking on and on to his unborn child. He was happy for them, he really was. Giotto remembered how he felt the moment he learned that his wife was pregnant with their first child, how happy he was that he would soon have his own child to mollycoddle and love. He even thought up of different names for the unborn child for months before settling with the one his wife thought up.

Giotto held out a hand to the misty portal and towards Nana's stomach. He didn't expect to touch her because the restrictions didn't allow it; he had tried several times before but failed. Therefore, he was surprised when his hand passed through the indigo flames and felt warmth, real warmth, under his fingertips and the feel of smooth fabric.

He pulled out his hand and the image dissolved back to mist due to his broken concentration but Giotto didn't notice. His full attention was on what happened a while ago. First, his hand passed through and to the world outside the ring. Second, the sensation he just had. He couldn't mistake the feeling he felt just now.

It was the warmth of a living human. Nana's warmth to be exact. And something else he couldn't quite put his finger on. It was like the heat pulsed under his skin, sending a warm feeling through his veins, calming his mind down and feeling absolute harmony.

For one insane moment, Giotto thought he felt the sky flame in Nana, when Giotto could perfectly see the sun flames that burned bright within her.

What the heck just happened?

A/N: What do you guys think? Express your lovely opinions through reviews! Make this authoress happy while she's treading on dark waters here. Click that lovely button down there. :)