Thin lips stretched into a smile as blue eyes glinted with unhidden mirth. Oh, how amusing this night would be. Although. His eyes trailed down, settling on two distinct figures he deduced shared the same Flame as him, and his smile fell.

He wasn't discriminating. Only, when taking both parties' fighting prowesses into account, one certainly was at a disadvantage. He hoped the teen wouldn't be too much of a disappointment—

Correction, he hoped Tsunayoshi's group wouldn't be too much of a waste of time.

Seeing as both groups had arrived, he flickered his gaze to his left. There, in a traditional black kimono with golden lining, one of his underlings stood, waiting for his directive.

Natalia, or Nonna as he usually called her wouldn't attend the first round. After all, Lightnings weren't the ones to open the ball. It was only right for dazzling Suns to show the way.

With such thoughts, he waved his hand and swiftly closed his metallic fan. He jumped from his position, few buildings away from Namimori Junior High, and leisurely made his way to the school ground.

Unconcerned by his growing lateness.

::

"Where is everyone, are we the first ones there?" Tsunayoshi wondered aloud as he looked around him, searching for the Varia and the Russian Mafia men from yesterday.

Behind him were his guardian candidates, namely Takeshi, Hayato, Ryohey and Mikaël. Kyoya was somewhere, and Lambo silently laid in Tsuna's arms, napping.

Reborn who quietly sat atop of his student's shoulder, tilted his fedora. "They are already here," he declared, looking up to see the whole Varia waiting for them.

The group wiped their head to search for the assassin squad.

"Ara, so that's the kids we'll fight?" The green-haired one mused, a hand to his face as he stared at each one of the teens from behind his shades, a smile etched on his face.

"Shishi, what? You're interested Luss?" The blond mockingly barked at his older counterpart.

The man swayed his finger negatively. "Nuhu, I'm only taking a look," he said before pausing, hand to his chin. "Though now that I have a clear look, they seem painfully weak," he drawled, voice dripping with ridicule.

The silver head clicked his tongue. "What did you expect from trashes, anyway. We should have killed them directly instead of having these shitty duels," he muttered, irritated.

"Aww, come on Squalo-chan, don't be so negative," the green admonished with a grin. "Since they were Bel's age I thought they could be a bit stronger," he defended.

"But of course, anyone cannot be on the same level as this Prince, Luss," Bel proudly corrected as he sneered at the group of teens.

Hayato felt himself getting more and more irritated as the group of elite assassins went on. His hands twitched, irking to grab some of his dynamite and blow them in their annoying faces. He was sure the feeling would be extremely satisfying.

"Hahaha, what a bunch of funny guys," Takeshi said next to the silver head in a pitiful attempt to defuse the situation.

Hayato growled at him. "It's not the time to act like an idiot, baseball freak!"

Takeshi's smile became strained. "My bad—"

Reborn had blocked all of the useless squabbles out, his pupils focused themselves on a hooded figure, and his eyes narrowed. They gave off a strangely familiar feeling.

He knew the other had spotted his attention and it was clear that they intended to ignore it. He listened to what they said, some meaningless comment on charging watching fees, and as he remembered yesterday's event, his frown deepened.

The way Natalia had momentarily, though it lasted less than a second, stopped her gaze in their direction, seemingly as respectful as she usually was to her superiors. It wasn't normal.

Natalia, much like every single member of the бриз Bratva, wasn't known for her respectful behavior. Sure, she, out of all of the Guardians, was the most polite and respectful one. But she made a clear line between who she acknowledged, and who she needed to act courteously with.

Even Lord Ninth wasn't someone she acted politely with out of her own accord, it was more out of duty than anything that she dared listened to him.

So why would she unnoticeably dip her head the hooded figure's way, the same way she had greeted him? Why bother acknowledged someone when she didn't care about their Boss, Xanxus.

It didn't add up. Reborn's personal information network was broad. But the person with the most information on the Vongola was Makariy, minuscule details, it wouldn't be surprising if he knew of them.

Even more so when it was about the Varia who had lived in seclusion after the Cradle Affair for years now.

"Oh, my—" Zhihao's smooth voice pulled Reborn out of his musings. "I seem to be late," the Chinese man drawled from behind his fan, his eyes crinkled as they went over both delegations.

"My apologies," he closed his fan with a swift movement, the man in black kimono behind him took a step closer and held the Guardian's fan reverently.

Hands-free, Zhihao lightly strode deeper into Namimori's school ground, not bothering to make up any excuses.

"Tonight, to begin your Requiem and as I am the host, we will hold the battle of the Sun," his steps paused, and he swirled to face both groups.

His blue eyes shone with mirth, and his smile appeared particularly mischievous under the moonlight. "Because us Suns are the most brilliant and dazzling individuals," he shamelessly praised.

"Wouldn't you agree?" He asked, his eyes flickering Reborn's way before beaming.

Reborn's thin lips lightly quirked up before he went back to his poker face. Zhihao chuckled. "Now," he said, extending his hand to retrieve his fan.

With a clear clack, it opened itself and light erupted behind him, blinding those who looked at it. The Sun Guardian gently fanned himself, unaffected by the light which came from behind him, casting an imposing shadow before his figure.

"Truth be told, I would have loved to have you turn into honey pots for the night," he admitted.

Lussuria visibly perked up at the prospect, his whole body oozing with interest, as Ryohey merely cocked his head to the side, confused by the term.

"But, well, everyone wasn't gifted to be a Vase like me," he mused, his smile turning deprecative as his eyes flashed with despised nostalgia.

"So instead, let us focus on martial arts, shall we?"

Reborn dipped his fedora some more, blocking more of the artificial light and nodding to himself. So he was right, each one of the battles to come was linked to Aleksey's Guardians' specialties.

His eyes flickered to Ryohey. Fortunately, the boy knew martial arts.

::

Mikaël, eyes wide opened, laid in his bed, unable to get even a wink of sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, the scene of his underclassman fighting that green-haired maniac erupted in his mind.

The fighting, the violence, the amusement the older displayed at the youngest's suffering, everything was deeply anchored in his mind. Every single detail, from the way they held themselves, to the pace of their breathing, the orientation of their hit and how they received it.

His eyes missed nothing, and even the smallest sound couldn't escape his ears. It was like a film, each time he tried to fall asleep, it would replay from the beginning. A broken cassette stuck on replay, rewinding again and again.

The bloodshed, everything was there, in his head, it was as if he had yet to leave Namimori's school ground. As if he was still standing there, motionlessly gazing at them until, at last, Ryohey managed to somehow turn the table on this Lussuria guy.

It was scary. It scared Ryota. Because he knew the only way for him to be so clear on those events was for him to analyze and copy them. Hah, he had, as his underclassman got endlessly beaten, observed their matches and fed his combat register.

He had used them, without, any remorse. It unsettled him. Sure, using people every day, manipulating them with a smile, beautiful words or anything, had never bothered him before.

But then, he only used them to make his life more comfortable. To gain more fame as a model, or climb the social ladder faster. Maybe, it was despicable, but Ryota hadn't viewed it this way. He simply thought it was normal, and anyway, he wasn't hurting anyone.

But now, how could he say no one got hurt? How could he be so cold-hearted as to ignore what had happened? Dismiss it as something which had nothing to do with him?

He released a shaky breath, his hand reached for his mother's memento, searching for a way to soothe his nerves as his eyes shifted to his digital alarmer. 3:12 am.

He got out of his bed, it was no use tossing as he did at the moment. It wouldn't get him anywhere. His feet silently led him to the kitchen, careful as not to wake up any of his housemates.

He took a glass out and poured himself some water. As he drunk, he skidded through his phone's app. He leaned against the counter, closed his eyes, and did some math.

Judging from the time, and the time difference between Tokyo and New York, his thoughts trailed off. Ryota began to type his desired number.

It should be around two in the afternoon in New York. If he's lucky, then Shuzo has yet to go back to his classes.

His phone buzzed into the night as he waited for his friend to take his call. He gently closed his golden eyes and hummed to himself, already relaxing at the prospect of talking to the basketball player.

He didn't know why, but it appeared like Shuzo always seemed to calm his nerves. He definitely was the best medicine against insomnia.

The metaphor made him chuckle, Nijimura definitely should never know of his thoughts. And like that, though the ex-Captain had yet to answer his call, Mikaël found himself getting a tiny bit sleepier.

To Ryota, Shuzo was more of a magician than himself. Always washing his worries away.

Bzz, bzz, bzz—

"Mika?"

The sound of his name being called out pulled Ryota out of his reverie. He quickly grabbed his phone and brought it to his ear, a genuine smile painted on his face.

"Shuzocchi!" He beamed. "You picked up!"

"Sure I did," there was a slight pause on the other side before the Japanese teen resumed. "Wait, what time is it in Japan?"

Mika chuckled, rubbing his left earlobe as he mentally prepared himself to be scolded. "Ummm, I'm not sure. It's dark outside," he evaded.

Though he couldn't see the raven head, Ryota knew Shuzo was frowning. "Mikaël," the teen sternly called. "What time is it?" He reiterated, leaving no place for the boy's excuses.

Ryota bit his lower lip before whining. "Mou, come on Shuzocchi," he pitifully cried out. "Don't be so mean—"

"The time Mikaël."

The green huffed. "Three in the morning," he mumbled, his voice coming out as extremely muffled and unintelligible.

"What?"

"I said, three in the morning," he repeated sourly. "But I couldn't sleep Shuzocchi, it's not my fault," he defended. "And you're the one who said to call you whenever," he confidently added, not letting the other any time to answer.

Shuzo stayed silent for a few seconds before sighing. He refrained from admonishing his friend, already sensing something wasn't quite right with the teen at the moment.

"Right, my bad, it's my fault," he admitted, though reluctant, as his voice softened. "What can I help you with Mika?" He unconsciously coaxed.

Ryota's pout faded, and his lips quirked up. How lucky he was to have Shuzocchi as his friend.

::

Mikaël silently stood with Tsunayoshi and the others. He yawned and rubbed his eyes, revealing a pair of dark bags underneath the golden pupils.

He absentmindedly stretched his neck as his eyes wandered the school ground. Though he had skipped school and decided to rest after his call with Shuzo, he still felt unbearably tired.

Maybe not physically tired, but mentally, he was exhausted. His rest had allowed him to organize his thoughts, making him more clear-minded as he came to assist to the next battle.

"I see that everyone has arrived," the smooth voice of the Lightning Guardian echoed around them as Natalia came down from where she previously stood.

Her honey brown eyes calmly swept across the assembly, momentarily resting on two figures before she nodded to herself. She turned around and led the way deeper into the school grounds.

Now standing in front of the school building's door, she turned to face them. Her lips, tinted in a light shade of red quirked up as her eyes lightly dropped, giving off an air of weakness and passive seduction.

She bowed, following the local customs. "You may refer to me as Natalia," she introduced. "Tonight, we shall conduct the battle for the Lightning ring."

Leviathan grunted, showing his approval while Tsunayoshi worriedly looked down at the napping Lambo in his arms.

Natalia cleverly ignored their reactions. "To draw damage to oneself and away from the rest of the Bratva, serving as a lightning rod," she recited, eyes focused on the two Guardians in probation. "Well, for you it would be the Famiglia," she corrected before clearing her throat.

"Those are the words shouldered by us Lightning Guardians. In this battle, following these precepts, you shall put your life on the line to protect your target."

The brown-haired Guardian took a tablet out from her suit's inner pocket. She turned it on, and two empty rooms appeared on the screen.

"This is where your target will be. Your goal is to keep them safe and take out the enemy's by any means possible," she explained.

"Only the dummy?" Grunted Levi, arms crossed over his chest as he gazed at the older woman in front of him.

At those words, Natalia's red-painted lips quirked up into a feral smile. She gently tucked some of her brown locks behind her ear, shallowly licking her upper lip.

A light chuckle escaped her lips. "Of course not," electric green coursed through her eyes. "You are free to do whatever you want, so long as the goal is attained."

Tsunayoshi paled.

Levi grunted.

бриз/briz/: breeze, land breeze, land wind

Note, though some of the battles will change, due to the Bratva's involvement, they will essentially remain the same. Take the Sun battle, it proceded the same way as in Canon.

Thanks for reading, until next time^^