Chapter Text
A Pine Leaf Longs for the Sea
(All!80)
Full Summary:
On a budding spring day, the Vongola Guardians begin their first year as high school students. Their hardships are behind them; Enma and the Simon Guardians have returned to Italy, the Arcobaleno’s Curse is lifted, and the First Vongola Guardians have reconciled with their fallen comrade.
Sawada Tsunayoshi’s greatest hurdle has been postponed to his final school year. Plenty of time to experience his golden youth before accepting his mantle. And ample time to try and survive his dreaded teenage anxieties. There's nothing more he wanted than to protect everyone close to him. But now, there are no boundaries, no disdain nor disappointment holding them back. And the closer they get, deeper does the fear in his heart.
Sasagawa Ryohei leads the way, almost completely dedicated to becoming an active member of the family. But he is haunted by a future, one where he is able to create a family. The eldest, only in age, but never in matters as fickle and fleeting as love, nor of one, predetermined future.
Gokudera Hayato is the first guardian to devote his body and mind to the family, and is determined to remain by Tsuna’s side. Nothing else could ever prove his loyalty, nor sway his heart. The family's happiness is his happiness. That is what he firmly believes. It is impossible to compromise on anything, anything, that would take away this security; anything less than perfection is a risk to their beacon, their boss, Tsuna’s life. And failure would not be an option. Not again.
Bovino Lambo detests training and studying, but as one of the newest students to Namimori Junior, it's not too bad. If only he could ignore those silly childhood memories, the nostalgia he feels, when crossing paths with his family.
Dokuro Chrome is content with both of her families, and alongside Chikusa, Ken, and M.M., patiently await for their beloved Mukuro-sama. Until then, there are many stories to tell. All of which amuses Rokudo Mukuro to no end, and…perhaps he should look forward to his escape. If only he could break the emotional shackles that continue to drag him into the darkness.
Hibari Kyoya has made headway in establishing his Foundation, and solidifying the organization's presence throughout Namimori. Each day treads more dangerous and exhilarating to no end. There can be no time, no expense, no attention diverted to the weak. And yet, there can be no exceptions to those that endanger his peace. Even the finest cherry blossoms mustn't be allowed a single threat, and that includes all that surrounds it. He could never admit that his calculated order, or the lessers he allowed within it, could waiver the impenetrable sanctity of his own beliefs.
The Arcobaleno carry no such burdens. Restored to their original forms, able to utilize their cage freely, but still, unable to put away, to forget the chain around their necks. Their world is a frightening place, and now, they have no control, no choice in it.
And, Yamamoto Takeshi? Everyday is one of learning about his fellow guardians, and closely guarding a secret that could destroy them. And, if it meant protecting them from himself, then…as long as they all remained together, anything was possible.
***************
START:
Beep-beep-beep!
Takeshi cracked a single eye across the dark tea table at the center of his room. Blurry and wearily wincing at the black numbers and date on his blue flip clock; a lazy grin gracing his lips when he counts the many odd dents and scratches on its sides—from his father's youth.
Beep—!
2014年4月4日 (金); 先負: 8:00午前.
8:00 AM (Friday); SE; 04 April, 2013 . According to the Rokuyo*, the day would be a Sensho: a day filled with partially good and bad luck. Apparently he might have good luck in the morning, and bad luck in the afternoon. While not overly superstitious, no matter whichever happened first, the rokuyo never dampened his mood.
Beep—! Beep—!
He stumbles over the bunching of his blanket and nearly jabs his calf into the tea table before reaching out to press his hand and finally silence the old relic. And with its silence breathe a sigh of relief, kicking away the warm bundle on his ankles. Stretching back ever so slowly until the aches and tensions in his back pop and crackle.
He had plenty of time to get ready, a simple brush over his hair, not that it needed any grooming—it was too thin for any real harm to happen!
There was the issue of his ghastly sleeping positions of weaving his hair into something it was not, a tangled, messy, bed-head, creation he refused to deal with. At least, not until batting practice and warm-ups, where the bed-head became a punishing sauna overheating him under any sunlight.
His pops is already awake.
Always was, in order to prepare any new ingredients he'd stumble onto in the forest, and light sparring in the dojo.
That's the strange thing, sure he and his father had a spare bedroom and kitchen at the sushi shop. Sure, most of his friends had been over there, and maybe Tsuna’s been to the dojo. But, most people even forgot that he didn't actually live in the shop. It was more of a late-night get away when he, or his pops, were too exhausted to make the trek home. Staying at the apartment above the shop cut down his commute to school, and beat having to take the bus.
In fact, it really just depended on the day, and their feelings.
* Buzz *
Another quick brush of his teeth, a slap of chilled water on his face, and he's already donning his uniform and packing the textbooks for their fourth day of the new school term.
Everyone expected that after the fight with Daemon Spade, and that problem with Kaori-san’s friends*, that they'd be separated as they transitioned to high schools outside of Namimori.
Customary, for residents of small districts like their own, who lacked funds to maintain and continuously acquire new students and services. And, to everyone's pleasant surprise, a mysterious new school had opened, at some point while they were away fighting.
The facilities were far too new, that even the new teachers, and some adults who left Namimori, but returned, compared it to the private schools in Tokyo. Apparently, the school established a partnership with another school in Italy, and they would offer exchange programs for international students!
No one could hardly believe that Namimori would be the center of attention, but everyone in town believed it would finally be supportive for the community; the tourists that visited or stayed certainly enjoyed themselves.
* Buzz *
He rummages for his cellphone; object still haphazardly tossed with the rest of his school supplies, inside his school bag. And, as expected, the instant he opens his phone, the voice on the other line is charged with energy and enthusiasm.
“HIEEEEEEE! Y-Yamamoto! Please tell me you're almost here, I can't take it anymore!”
He blinks slowly, still shaking away the sleep in his body, but then chuckles.
”Eh, Tsuna? Not to sound like a downer or anything, you almost never call me this early before school. Are you planning to leave early today?”
The alarm clock on his shelf only moved forward 7 minutes, reading exactly: 8:07 AM.
He's usually near Tsuna's house at 8:20 AM because the walk to their campus was a straight line.
“Neh-neh, dame-Tsuna let's play, let's play—!”
He overhears the crashing of Tsuna’s night stand and lamp, and the thrashing and stomping of several tiny feet.
That's for sure, Tsuna’s house is always so lively, even before Tsuna is completely awake.
Takeshi made his way downstairs, the phone cradled between ear and shoulder, becoming aware of the sudden silence and the note posted ceremoniously on the refrigerator.
Opening up early. Private party. Leftovers already in your bento.
—Dad
He grins, glad that he didn't need to take an extra ten minutes to prepare the overnight savings for himself and Tsuna.
Poor guy just seemed to have endless bad luck with his lunch, either it'd be forgotten, lost, eaten, ruined, or one of the kids would get their hands in it.
At least now, this way, he wouldn't have to run through the rest of the day on an empty stomach.
“—Gomen, Yamamoto! I'm going crazy, I tell you, it's impossible to ever be on time. One of these days I'm going to lose all my hair with all this stress! And everyone just keeps barging into my room!”
“Haha, no worries! That just shows how much everyone likes you Tsuna! By the way, are you almost done? I'm on my way out, but you should probably get ready now.”
No offense to Tsuna, but he did have a habit of cutting it close with the Disciplinary Committee; it seems like Hibari waited for them to arrive especially, just to punish them.
Not that he blamed Tsuna, he's always awfully busy with everyone in his house and helping out the little guy with his game. Well, game-persé, the way his teammates put it, Tsuna's mafia game was more like LARP-ing—live-action whatchamacallit. It made sense too, all the crazy life-like props, the investment in historical weapons, the restoration, and the battles! Although, to Tsuna, having to live through all of it must be exhausting.
On some days he wonders if Miura had a hand in making some of them. Despite this, no matter how grueling the challenges are, this game itself was good for Tsuna; he's come out of his old shell, and they've made so many new friends along the way. It seemed terribly important to him too, protecting everyone, and now everyone was in on it.
Even Reborn has changed in some way, but after all that's happened in the future; it's become harder to stop treating him like a kid!
“8:15 HIEEEEEEE!!!! I-I'll call you back when I'm at the intersection, Yamamoto!”
And the line cut-out.
‘That's Tsuna for you! He's even more fast-paced than Ryohei!’
He thought, before closing the door and walking out through a secret path down the mountain.
A small clearing which opens up at the edge of the dojo grounds and cuts straight downhill. It was the more scenic route to the bus stop, and would cost him another 5 minutes, possibly 8, depending on how many new sights and smells he could take in.
Aha — and there it was.
The first new object he finds tucked into one of the old camphor trees.
A dazzling shine reflected right onto his chest, and stopped him in place. If he didn't know any better, he'd say that everything about the object seemed intentional—coordinated at the right place, at the right time. He still has three more minutes left, there's no reason for him to not inspect the object. With any luck, he might be able to stow it away in his pocket, and prod it during their lunch block.
He steps closer, less than a foot away, before he loses his footing on a soft patch of moss and spirals downward.
He braces for any impact, eyes shut, and prays, and if he's lucky, it'll be a tree, or something firm to break his descend. Yet, instead of stopping, he keeps falling; a brilliant flash of light burning behind his eyelids and body, until it stops.
He quickly loosens his pulled knees and unfurls from fetal position when they come into contact with solid ground.
Not to the rough, natural turf of grass or soil, but the smooth and frigid sensation of stone. Like the floors used in museums. He palms it curiously, eyes trepidatiously opening—peeking—at the light beige streaks on the pristine ivory ground, and honing onto the sounds of birds and...what was that noise? Yelling..?
None he could discern, but it sounded like a nasty argument, and from ‘outside’?
So he may have landed somewhere inside, then. He couldn't recognize the language, but it reminded him of the way the little guy spoke.
“Yamamoto Takeshi-kun.”
He jolts, body instinctively jumping backwards at the sudden intrusion to the space.
A space, where he's able to look around, and calmly examine where he had landed. Strangely, the forest, in all its tranquil glory, had been replaced with a very large bedroom. Western by the looks of it. Nothing you'd see in Japan, unless you tried one of those fancy hotels in magazines, but he'd never seen anything like this before.
If not for the calligraphy, ikebana, and the kamidana in the corner, he'd question who lived in this room. More unusual than a Japanese individual staying in this style of space, is the person staring at him.
The ghost of the first Vongola Rain Guardian.
“A-Asari-san!”
It had been so long since he had seen him last. And, not surprisingly, despite the heaviness of his period attire, the man proceeded to help him up with a simple tug.
The rain guardian smiles gently at him, and he's immediately relaxed.
Any doubts of his safety or concern about the situation are gone. Asari had a certain energy he possessed that just put everyone around him at ease. Although, that didn't stop Takeshi from being curious, like, where he was? Or, how Asari could be standing in front of him?
And, as though reading his mind, Asari directed them to a table at the base of one of the windows.
Following his lead, he sits, and accepts the piping hot tea, set across from him.
“E-eto...I don't want to sound rude, Asari-san, but I'm not sure how I got here.”
He takes a long sip of the tea, melting at the herbal taste, and of the nostalgic feeling it brought. Never mind the fact that he was sitting across from a ghost, and drinking ghost tea; ‘pay it no mind, no mind at all’, he hums.
Asari lowered his cup, and nodded.
“Indeed. Forgive me, Yamamoto-kun. There was a need to bring you here, in order for us to speak personally–de gozaru.”
In matter-of-fact sort of way he responds,
“I see. Well, if it's so important, shouldn't the others be here too? They should also hear what you have to say.”
Which elicits a chuckle from Asari.
The man is prompted to peer at the noisy figures, evidently the voices he heard fighting before, from below, and outside of the room.
“I suppose so, and yet, in my experience, I have learned that such things should be brought up if, and when, one feels such. Tell me, do you trust anyone with the matters of one's wellbeing–de gozaru?”
He shakes his head, cracking a little smile.
“Not really. I dunno, I guess if it involves my friends or affected my family, but that's a ‘but’, you know? I wouldn't want to worry anyone with something that just bothers me.”
“Yes, I agree with you. That is why I brought you to my sleeping quarters. It is the most privy of spaces, and it should be secure from your friends–de gozaru.”
“I don't understand, is there something wrong with you, Asari-san?”
How exactly did this involve him?
Unless of course, all the stories of the paranormal alerting people of illness or their near deaths were true..? That sounded incredibly ominous; what were the chances that Asari-san had brought him here for anything related to his health?
He had good reason to be skeptical.
After all, if there was anything wrong with him, his father, or his coach would be the first to tell him anything. Not that their school nurse didn't have a sharp eye for these things. His ability to even attend practice almost always depends on his health. Even Namimori’s school doctor was amazing—when he wanted to be—and actually caring for the students.
He's still not sure why he needed to be here specifically, but clearly the issue was with the older man.
Asari’s smile falters only for a second, but the man shakes his head.
“No. Perhaps not in the way you may see. Tell me Yamamoto-kun, do you remember the duties of the guardians–de gozaru?”
He smiled sheepishly, right hand rubbing at the back of his head anxiously.
“Haha, not really. I'm sorry, do you mind telling me again?”
And Asari sends him a soft-pressed look, a cross of chide, and of understanding.
"Not at all, I too have trouble recalling that not from our homeland. Now, listen carefully–de gozaru.
Breaking down adversity against the family with their bodies, and becoming the bright sun: these are the duties of the Guardian of the Sun.
Not only becoming the lightning that damages the enemy, but becoming the lightning rod that accepts all damage towards the family and destroys it: that is the duty of the Guardian of Lightning.
The duty of the Guardian of the Cloud is to be the solitary, noble, floating cloud which protects the family, and taking an independent stance —boundless.
Confusing the enemy by making nothing into something, and something into nothing, not allowing them to see the family, the illusion of deception: that is the duty of the Guardian of the Mist.
Continuously at the heart of attack, the storm of raging waves that never rests: that is the duty of the Guardian of the Storm.
Squaring the accounts of battle, washing away the blood spilled by the family: that is the duty of the Guardian of Rain–de gozaru.
Mind you, during our time, we had no such attachment, or meaning of these traits. They appear to become emblematic during the second family's time.”
With some moment of clarity, he exclaimed,
“Oh! I remember now! That's exactly the way the little guy described it.”
A proud expression on his face in recalling the child-adult’s words.
“Did you know that there exists an untold piece of this story, Yamamoto-kun? There is one duty, first of its kind, risen during the era of my companions; under normal circumstances, it would have been passed to you by your predecessor. However, every guardian does not display the same compatibility, nor friendship with their other guardians–de gozaru. As such, in some eras, several Rain Guardians have been unsuccessful with this task. Thus, the last to hold this knowledge was Vongola Quinto’s rain guardian. And I…”
Asari waits, a solemn expression written on his face.
“I...held hope that this Asari would not be the one to inform you, and yet, fate works in mysterious ways. Yamamoto-kun, you must know now that the Vongola family is unlike anything you have ever known. The power that is born from its bonds, our bonds, are entirely raw, tangible and visceral–de gozaru. Truly, becoming any form for the sake of our ideals. This task...no, this duty, is one that is not passed lightly. Nor is it meant to constrain you. Only your heart can sway you on this path. No matter how daunting, or how arbitrary, only you may decide. Do not forget this–de gozaru.”
He nodded, still not sure what Asari needed to tell him so urgently. Or how he was dreaming when he was clearly awake and out of bed.
It's highly likely that he knocked his head over something in the fall and was unconscious. But then again, how often did he have the chance to speak so seriously with himself? Asari made a great conscience.
He grinned silently to himself.
Hopefully he woke up soon, he still had to meet Tsuna before the morning bell. Thankfully neither of them had cleaning duty.
He flinched when Asari took his hand, solid and brimming with warmth emanating from the fingers, stroking the rain ring.
Asari’s dark eyes bore heavily into his own.
“Yamamoto-kun, I now pass onto you the latent duty of the Rain Guardian. To bear the children of the future, of the family, to become the tether that unites them–de gozaru.”
“...”
"..."
The two just stare at each other for several grueling minutes. Before Yamamoto withdraws his hand and tries to form some words, but pauses.
He's unsure what to say to the guy, really.
‘I mean honestly, who would even believe a word that came out of a possible concussion induced hallucination?’
But then again, Tsuna’s games were becoming more and more serious.
When they somehow appeared in the future, and then his training with older Squalo—how do you even try to explain that? Sure the stakes and realism are higher, but at the end of the day, this game was a game. Not a video game or anything normal people would like, it was purely competitive, almost like a tradition—a sport. And with any sport, you have to take risks, even at the cost of everything.
This still rings true even now with everything that's happened; heck, if it weren't for Tsuna stopping him on the roof years ago...he's not sure he'd be confident enough to play. He's not afraid anymore of getting hurt for himself and the people he cares about; all that matters is enjoying himself and helping others.
Maybe he doesn't quite know what Asari-san means, and maybe it'll be something painful, but he's tough enough to handle it.
That's what they do in Tsuna’s game!
Takeshi laughs, an invisible burden lifted from his shoulders, no longer weighing on his mind.
His eyes silently reassured the older man.
“Maa, maa, I see why you would be worried Asari-san. That's a lot to take in. I'm still not sure what you mean, but it wouldn't be the first time rain guardians go through this right? And I think that, even if it might be painful...I'll have my friends with me. You didn't choose this either, I'm sure no one has, but that's why only a few people can do this. I'm not sure if I'm even capable of doing this either. So, please don't blame yourself, Asari-san. Nothing has happened yet, and I'm sure it won't. Now, are you going to be okay, Asari-san?”
Silent anguish crossed Asari's dark eyes, body tense. Regret etched in the transparent and waning blue flames around him.
A single tear slips from the near perfect facade the elder wore, and he nodded.
Their interaction with one another is a perfect example of how the former, and current rain guardians, understood each other more deeply than the other members of their families. And Asari relished in the peace of this moment.
“I will–de gozaru. Many pardons, Yamamoto Takeshi-kun. This is not something I share lightly. Only the chosen Rain Guardians are able to withstand such a torrential task–de gozaru. I...how do you say, I am able to understand its purpose, and yet, at times I ponder, for what reason do the flames cause this response? Life may be a winding journey, surely…yet this is something different in its entirety. Nonetheless...”
Asari shook his head.
“No use pondering over what is; aye’ Yamamoto-kun? Perhaps, if you come to some conclusion, I hope you will share it with this Asari–de gozaru.”
He finished, right billowing sleeve wiping the tear.
When Asari rises from his seat, the same blinding light begins to wrap all around them.
“E-eh, wait! Asari-san—!”
The more this light surrounded him, the less visible and clear was the visage of the older man across from him.
“H-how will I know about—!?”
Asari smiles, regret still written on his face, and a knowing look.
“The rings, Yamamoto-kun. The rings will create a reaction, only, and truly, only, if the other guardian has established a bond with you, then shall the flames resonate. We will speak again, if the ring calls for it. I pray, for your sake, we shall not—de gozaru…”
And before he knew it, Takeshi woke up, stirring upon a hedge that softly cradled his fall.
His uniform is wrinkled, black slacks painted in random touches of brown—no splits or tears thankfully. That just left him seconds to reach the bus stop, until he read his watch.
8:40 AM.
Well, that would need a lot of explaining, especially as to why he had missed the entire first class block. He pockets his phone after correctly suspecting that it would be swarmed with messages.
20 unopened emails from Gokudera.
15 missed text messages from Tsuna.
4 missed text messages from the team chat.
1 voicemail from Reborn (he didn't remember giving the little guy his phone number?).
And 1 unopened email from his dad: read now.
Don't go missing all of your classes. Unless you have a solid excuse. I'll be here late again, and after practice swing by the shop. I'll need your help.
—Dad
Even with that message, he knew that his father was making fun of him.
His dad never cared for the school's wellness checks! Not much he could do about it either, he sighs. With a slightly aching body he just barely makes it to board the third bus of the day.
Namimori High School, Second Period:
When he appears outside the humanities class doorway, holding a hall pass and his school bag, several curious eyes follow his movements inside.
He senses both Tsuna and Gokudera’s quizzical gazes, and oddly, even the wide inquisitive stare of that kid from somewhere within the room.
“Out running laps, Yamamoto!”
Cried Yamada, their team's center fielder.
“Laps!? Maybe all that training for the Spring Tournament finally caught up to him!”
Said Motoharu, his classmate again for their third year.
“Who needs sleep when you have school, am I right!?”
He recognizes the voice at the very back of the room, but is too tired to even trace its origins.
A growing smile on his face, he relaxes when the once sluggish and resistant atmosphere in the room lights up. Typical when his classmates joke about him sleeping in or working overtime, which, he chuckles, did not happen as often as everyone thought.
Their own infamously sluggish teacher appeared to have gained some newfound energy too. Which was great considering how he's the last to show up for their class.
“Now, settle down. Yamamoto-kun if you would take your seat. Everyone will open the study guide and start with example three.”
Just as he begins unpacking the same study guide and pencil case, no sooner is Tsuna whispering beside him.
Waving a colorful eraser head and pencil in his hand for attention. It's amazing how good you could feel when you were seated beside the window this term, but that all depended on the time of day and the position of the sun.
“Pssssst, Yamamoto!”
Tsuna says, with Gokudera begrudgingly looking overhead.
The last line of defense should the teacher dare to pick a fight with them.
“Hm? What's up, Tsuna?”
Gokudera glares daggers at him, but nothing noteworthy to take him seriously.
“I waited for you as long as I could but I didn't see you. Didn't you see my messages?”
He said, eyes darting between the front of the board and back at him with fear.
“Not yet, haha. I went to help my dad out at the shop, and I just lost track of time. Oh, right! Did you finish the homework for science?”
Tsuna's eyes widened dramatically, and he groaned.
”HOMEWORK!? I don't remember anything about homework! This is bad! I'm going to fail again!”
“Ahem.”
Both he and Tsuna turn to their teacher who just happened to be walking down their aisle.
“Sawada Tsunayoshi and Yamamoto Takeshi, report to me after class.”
“Oi.”
Gokudera said, abruptly standing up and messily skidding his desk and chair.
Oh boy, by the look on his face, that got Gokudera’s blood boiling.
He only hopes that the teacher wouldn't scold them too badly.
It's not Gokudera's fault that he still misunderstood the way the Japanese school system worked. Hopefully Dokuro-chan had better luck with Sasagawa and Kurokawa next door. Gokudera just never managed to get along with teachers. Maybe that's what happens with geniuses.
Their social studies teacher, a stout and round man, Matsumoto-sensei, only in his second year with the school board, boldly stared back at him.
“Y-y-you t-too G-Gokudera H-Hayato. S-see m-me a-after class.”
Contrary to his stoic front, he finished feebly and stepped outside the room, a defeated look on him.
Poor guy.
Gokudera really should try to go easy on them; after all, teachers were paid to be there, and at least they tried.
Nasty rumor was that Namimori was going through a staffing shortage in schools these days.
“How about we talk more at lunch, okay Tsuna?”
“Hey, baseball idiot, if the boss wants to talk with you now, then you better talk now.”
Gokudera interjected, three bombs revealed threateningly from his pocket.
Takeshi blinks for a moment, but then laughs, and begins flitting through the practice book pages.
”Hahaha, maa...the faster we finish the problem the sooner class will end, and then we can eat lunch, neh?”
Gokudera goes red, but before he can yell any obscenities at him, Tsuna nods in agreement.
“Don't I hear you! Let's just try to stay away from any more trouble. Right, Gokudera-kun?”
That changed his tune pretty quick, Gokudera who already completed the practice was already helping Tsuna out.
Well, at least that's a start.
When third period transitions occur without the usual onset of fighting between the new students, or the normal hustle and bustle of admirers waiting at the doors, there's the making of a great day.
That's the nice thing about the new Namimori High building.
It has ample space to allow several rows of students to move around rooms without crowding the unblemished white walls and gridlock floors. It's the exact opposite of Namimori Junior, where you could find someone eating something in the halls, or sneaking food out from the Home Economics room.
Anyone caught creating any form of disturbance, even a small spill, would be sent to the new Disciplinary Office. Required to volunteer around the entire school. Compared to the punishments Hibari gave, no, gives, at the Junior High, it's amazing how restrained he's been so far.
Not that Hibari ever shrugged off distributing his time to both buildings, nor did he ever show an ounce of fatigue in the matter. Namimori is his pride and joy after all. And, since he typically wanders between the two buildings, which, were only ten minutes away (built on the same grounds) he appeared frequently in public.
That explains the growing fan base for him, inside the schools, and outside! Not that anyone with enough nerve could muster the courage to approach him in person.
Though, that hardly dampened the several admirers of Tsuna, Gokudera, Sasagawa-senpai, Dokuro-chan, or the recent transfers of Ken, Chikusa, and M.M.!
Although, nothing could compare to the feeling of standing on home base, and the cries of their classmates watching their team play on the new field.
In his musings, the third class bell rang again, the second bell to notify the end of the third period break.
Ah, and there went his first chance to try and speak with Tsuna.
It couldn't be helped.
This period, Tsuna typically spent the break avoiding fights with Ken. Chikusa would sneak off campus to buy their group food for lunch, and Ken would insist that Tsuna couldn't be trusted with Dokuro-chan. It's really great in reality! The combination of Miura’s theatrics, and Ken and Gokudera’s threats, the entire dubuckle just made the day more enjoyable!
Then, just as suddenly, it's over; always a surprise to Gokudera, and the new students. Those foreign or exchange students who frequently tend to forget the existence of a class break after their third block—or that third block ended. The signal to the beginning of their fourth period. Funny, how despite the dozens of grumblings and complaints, most of their classmates were collecting their books and shifting toward the doors.
Truthfully, there are only seconds of warnings in all this hustle.
And as usual, a bewildered Dokuro-chan and a flabbergasted Miura were taken back to their shared classrooms by Sasagawa-chan and Kurokawa.
Tsuna always looks relieved when the girls return to their own rooms down the hall.
Coincidentally, everyone expected that Miura would enroll (except for Tsuna) into their new school after graduation.
When news spread of its opening, almost all of the students in the surrounding neighborhoods did as well. It reminded him of a bee hive the first day; the entire town and more students than he could count, swarmed inside like the curious shoppers at the plaza. For the convenience and quality, no one could turn away from having a school at the center of town, despite the concerns of violence. Which, Hibari’s presence typically carried. Though no one with a right mind could argue against it.
He chuckles, arm cradling an assortment of English textbooks.
When he feels the same set of eyes on him; inquisitive eyes hidden somewhere within the hallway and following his every move.
Takeshi smiles, heart faltering for a second, but never allowing the emotion to show on his face.
Mind still and lost in thought.
The kid couldn't know that I was with Asari-san today, could he?
Chapter 1: Dewdrops in the Wind [End].
A/N: Hello again! This is another story of mine in the works for some time now. It may seem rushed for some, in this first chapter, but for those who know of the anime or the manga it should (hopefully) fit right in. This story will have multiple chapters, and there's already a sequel story in the works! It won't be out for a while, until this behemoth is done. I'm excited to share this with you all, and I hope you can enjoy yourself.
*Kaori is a member of the Simon Famiglia (Manga/Post-Season 8)!
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Oh! But here's something you should know to follow along the timeline—
Season 1–5: Tsuna, Gokudera, Yamamoto, Kyoko, Hana, are all 1st Years (7th Graders/Japanese School System). Ryohei is an upperclassman, so he was a year older and up (8th grader). Hibari had supposedly already graduated High School!
*We find out by Shoichi in Season 7, that he meets Tsuna when he's a "2nd Year". And we know Chrome transfers into Namimori post-Season 8.
So logically, when Enma, and the Simon Family transfer to Namimori: Everyone is a 2nd Year (in 8th Grade). Except for Ryohei who is in his last year as a 9th Grader.
[Japanese Elementary School ends at the 6th Year | Japanese Middle School or Junior High is from the 7th to 9th Years.]
Story Timeline: Post-Arcobaleno/Rainbow Trials (they're 9th graders technically).
But for this story, Tsuna, and everyone should be somewhere in Spring (beginning/continuing their first year of seniority as 10th graders in High School).
AND! This story begins after Tsuna and everyone has graduated Namimori Junior High—except for Lambo!
Lambo is only 7-years-old. Since this story is slowburn you'll know when he's entered Namimori Junior.
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Also I'll try adding photos of their high school uniforms! And, did you all hear, as of March 2022, Tokyo and other Japanese schools have finally removed their gender uniform/underwear/hair rules! So now you have more options for female and male students!
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Final Note: You don't need a major knowledge of this series, but it would help you to know of these characters and their relationships! And if you'd like, tell me what you think so far. Is it too long? Too confusing? Thank you for following along!
I just love Rain Guardians~