Liu Chen turned Liu Zhihao upon his coming of age ceremony, was a cunning man. A beautiful vase, a valuable piece. Someone whose worth easily surpassed other flowers.

As the son of one of the most influential Triads in China, the Yíwàng Triad, he lived his life with a silver spoon. Everything he ever desired, they served it to him on a silver plate. He only needed to open his mouth, and everything would fall into his hands.

Everything, oh everything— except what he desired most.

So perhaps, it was fate, destiny.

When his status went from young master to gift, a chess piece for his father to use, he truly felt as if heaven had forsaken him. His life crumbled, and his goal became even more of a dream than before.

Zhihao, from young, had his mother's temperament. Kind and composed, a mysterious yet welcoming smile always etched on his face, complimenting his lightly curved crystal blue eyes."A perfect doll" was his sister's words. "A pebble on the road," was closer to his brothers' perception of himself.

Anyway, it was understandable, with his somewhat weak body— well bone structure, and his lack of backing after his mother's passing, Zhihao didn't have much to survive.

Triads weren't beautiful places where the brave and kindhearted prevailed, only the sly and powerful survived. And the cowards too sometimes.

Zhihao knew, he was relegated to the last category after all.

Anyway, he was aware of his lack of power but hadn't expected to be sold out to another organization for the sake of an alliance. The other party must have been imposing if his father went to such length. He was a premium quality vase.

Blue met gold and an inexplicable current coursed through the youngest's body. He was so majestic, imposing. His hair, his eyes, though one was a lighter shade, most probably from an eye wound, he deducted from the scar, all of them formed a perfect picture.

It resonated with his being. That was Zhihao's reaction upon laying his eyes on Aleksey Levin for the first time. If it was that person, it was alright to surrender. To call him by his Ming instead of his Courtesy Name, he wondered how the name would roll off his tongue: Chen.

The thought inexplicably made his heart flutter. Boil with excitement and anticipation.

Cold eyes were settled on his figure as he kept his head low in a bow. He didn't stand up, waiting for someone, anyone to tell him to move. He could feel the pitying and scornful gazes of his surrounding before the atmosphere abruptly shifted.

"Come."

Zhihao didn't take note of the other guests, elegantly raising his head, his perfect features met the cold Russian's ones. The man's golden eyes glinted, and his smile deepened. The blond hummed, raising an inquiring eyebrow at the raven head.

The Yíwàng Boss cleared his throat, "Come, Chen," he ushered stoically. His grey eyes narrowed as usual, as he stared at his youngest son.

Zhihao dipped his head at his father before walking up to the Bratva Boss. As he stood before him—

Closing his eyes, Zhihao could still precisely remember the scene. The way Aleksey seized him up before chuckling, seemingly amused. "Sit," he had ordered as he took a sip of his alcohol.

His aura, Zhihao knew, heaven had sent him an envoy. Perhaps not an angel and more of a devil, but he didn't care. He felt in the deepest part of himself, this man would bring him to the highest place, so long as he followed him.

Maybe, with him, taking over the Triad wasn't only a dream.

Those who looked down on him would learn to Fear the Forgotten Dragon.

::

The calming scent of tea wafted throughout the study. The Chinese guardian who sat on the tatami mat silently sipped on his beverage. His closed fan rested on his lap, he put his cup down, taking his book back and resuming his reading.

"Lord Liu," one of his attendant, dressed in a traditional cheongsam, addressed with a bow. "Lady Ivanov requested an audience," they calmly stated as they straightened. Their eyes focused on their superior's composed figure.

Zhihao finished reading his page before grabbing a bookmark with dragon pattern and marking his progress. He put the book down, grabbed his teacup, and drank his beverage.

Elegantly, he stood up, not forgetting to grab his metallic fan. As if waiting for this moment, one of his other attendants walked to his low table, grabbing the book and empty cup they cleaned the place.

The long blue sleeves of the man's cheongsam fluttered as he made his way out of his study and to the adjacent room, the boudoir. The sliding paper door was open, leading to a long wooden corridor, and he entered the waiting room.

The brown-haired girl, upon noticing the raven's entrance stood up, dipping her head politely. "Lord Zhihao," she greeted, "My Lord stated that you were part of the delegation," she said, getting straight to the point.

Zhihao hummed, a pleasing smile on his lips as he narrowed his blue eyes at the girl. His fan was opened, lightly fanning the lower part of his face, "Natalia," he acknowledged.

With calm and steady steps, each enveloped with an imposing aura, he came to the empty blue quilted couch. He sat, closed his fan with a distinct clack and gestured for his following attendant to bring out some drinks and pastries, more than half were traditional Chinese sweets while the rest were Occidental ones.

He gazed at the girl, waiting for her to take a seat in front of him before putting his fan on his lap. "It seems so," he answered, at last as his attendant poured him a cup of tea while serving coffee to the other Guardian.

Natalia accepted the drink humbly, sweetly smiling at the attendant. She took a small sip, her every moves exuding a sort of passive seduction.

"My Lord has issued the theoretical beginning of our task," she began, putting the cup down. Her hand gently reached for her short strands of brown, which she put behind her ear, revealing a beautiful green gem.

Zhihao hummed, narrowing his eyes. His hands were crossed over his black fan. The posture only served to highlight the unusual brightness of the gem of the signet ring on his middle finger.

He tilted his head slightly to the side, his lips curling up in amusement. What amused him? Natalia didn't know. "I see," he whispered, his voice clear and with lying sensuality. "Shall we depart now then?"

Electric green coursed through Natalia's honey-brown pupils, she nodded. "We shall," she answered, finishing her cup and excusing herself.

::

"Mikaël?"

The green's hands paused as he tied his shoelace, his golden eyes flickered, right, left, nothing. He raised an eyebrow, turning his head to look into the corridor, no one. He shrugged it off.

Neatly tying his laces, he picked up his bag and slung it over his shoulder. Two steps out of the house, and he felt a weight on his shoulder.

He stiffened, his hand reached for the unknown object, as to swat it away, before pausing mid-air.

"Reborn, was it?"

"Ciaossu, Mikaël," the hitman dipped his fedora, making himself comfortable on the teen's shoulder. "Great day?"

Ryota stared at the baby dubiously. "I guess it's okay," he answered before narrowing his eyes. "Were you the one to call out to me this morning?"

Reborn nodded.

"Yes," his eyes traveled to the boy's hand, he nodded to himself contently, his expression not revealing an ounce of his feelings.

Mikaël nodded, silence settled between the two. Reborn who, quietly sat atop the green's shoulder, closed his eyes. His mind drifted to his student, then the Guardians he selected for him.

He felt satisfied, and looking back on the past week, he knew his choice was best. They all were diligent when it came to training and getting stronger. Each had found an appropriate mentor, and though some weren't aware of the situation, they all did their best.

Well, maybe not Lambo... But Reborn had never been off the mark, if his gut told him Lambo was the one, then he was.

He had briefly checked on each of their training, and although they couldn't be considered genius mafia men at the moment, the potential was there. Like rough diamonds waiting to be polished, ready to shine brighter than any other.

Reborn examined Mikaël's demeanor from the corner of his eyes. The way he walked, how he held himself, observed his surrounding, every little twitch of his hand, nose, nothing escaped his watchful eyes.

His eyes narrowed, shadowed by his fedora, perhaps out of all of them, Mikaël was the one whose progress was the less significant. Unlike the others, he didn't have a master of the art to teach him, and although Chrome was powerful, she had yet to reach the peak of her skills.

Chrome, he thought of the girl. He hadn't had time to observe her. When the deadline fell he wasn't entirely aware of who she was, he only knew she shared a link with Mukuro.

Truth be told, Mukuro probably was the best Mist Guardian Tsuna could hope for. But the man was in prison, and they couldn't get in touch.

He knew of Chrome, and after observing her from afar as she guided Mikaël with his mastery over Mist Flames, he had to admit she was talented. Not as skilled as Viper for sure, but gifted nonetheless.

In fact, while Mikaël was more of a learning genius, one who could somehow grasp things with a single glance and reproduce them, Chrome had more innate talent. She instinctively knew the way, the tricks without needing others to point them out.

Taking it from this angle. It was easy for Reborn to know which one of them was more of a hard worker. Chrome was the one without a doubt, she strived to become stronger. Whether she was aware of her desire or not was another story, but with such mentality, her potential seemed limitless.

On the other hand, Mikaël looked much more laid back when learning.

Depending on the skill he worked on, he would either appear extremely serious or completely unbothered. His focus was unstable as if he had trouble finding interest in anything new.

When he began, he showed brief attention or investment, before it all dwindled into nothingness no later than a minute after. Thinking of it, this type of behavior was troubling. It was a problem for the future.

Mikaël's growth when learning something new was exponential. So much that when he first saw it, Reborn had troubles believing. With such abilities, wasn't it possible to even surpass Viper? Maybe not, but to get close was manageable.

Because Mikaël perfectly fitted Reborn's criteria for Tsuna's Guardian's, he hadn't hesitated to pull him in, even if it meant pulling some strings. The teen had potential, fame, charisma, and Reborn could feel it, a powerful backer lying in the dark.

But his determination was lacking. At least it wasn't where Reborn wished for it to be.

Reborn caught sight of Mikaël's left hand, of the indigo gem which lightly glinted under the sun. He didn't regret choosing Mikaël. He merely thought Chrome was better fitted for the job.

Well, it was too late to change. And to switch out Mikaël for Chrome when he had at first used the girl as bait to force Mikaël out, it seemed a bit too heartless. Such actions wouldn't be desirable for teamwork later on.

Honestly speaking, from what Mikaël had shown him if the male could resign voluntarily, he wouldn't say no.

"You aren't going to Tsunayoshi today?" Ryota finally asked, breaking the silence as they neared the Senior High school building, on the other side of the road, much like a reflection in the mirror stood Namimori Junior High.

Reborn shook his head, jumping off of the teen's shoulder, he neatly landed on the concrete floor in front of the green. He shook his head negatively. "Today I am observing you," he stated with his usual innocent-looking smile.

Ryota raised an eyebrow, dubious, before slowly nodding. "Sure," he drawled. "Suit yourself."

Reborn smiled. "Don't mind me."

::

"Say, Mika," Jun whispered as he leaned toward his friend, his eyes unconsciously darting to the baby in a suit a step behind them. "Whose kid is he, yours?" He asked, deadly serious.

Mikaël choked on his saliva before pouting and glaring at the raven head. "I'm not you!" He harshly retorted, though there was a light joking undertone to his speech.

Reborn observed the two teens' interactions, his eyes narrowed. He had received a call from Iemitsu earlier in the day, it seemed their guests were on their way and would arrive in the evening. Which meant, he looked down at his wristwatch, now.

Bzz, bzz.

"Who's it?" Jun asked, resting his chin on his friend's shoulder. His eyes trailed on the phone screen.

"Fuutacchi," Ryota answered, merely flickering his golden hues to look at his glasses-wearing friend before going back to texting. "He says he's lost."

Reborn raised an eyebrow. He knew the green knew Fuuta, but he didn't think they were so close. That the boy was closer to the green than to Tsuna.

"I've got his location, I'm going to pick him up," he paused, spinning on himself to go the opposite way. "You're coming?" He asked with a tilt of his head.

Jun hummed, taking his phone out to check the time before grimacing. "Nah, mom's requesting for my ass to sit in the kitchen," he muttered with a sigh. He put his phone back in his pocket. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"M'kay," Mikaël drawled, waving his hand as he walked down the dark street to find the Ranking Prince.

He felt a weight on his shoulder and turned to face Reborn, he raised a questioning eyebrow. "Lambo's with him?" The hitman questioned.

Ryota nodded in silence, eyes trailed on the GPS app of his phone as he navigated through the streets. "Then we should hurry," Reborn said. "I have a bad feeling."

Mikaël pursed his lips, frowning. "Sure," he said as he started to jog toward the Little Prince's location.

He didn't know why, but upon hearing Reborn's words, he had this foreboding feeling in his chest, telling him to hurry to the boy's side.

Late update, sorry, sorry (-_-')

Next chapter enters the Varia

Thank you for reading, until next time ^^