Ryota raised a confused eyebrow as he followed the small brown head down Namimori's dim-lit streets. Only the sound of the low whistle of the wind remained as the street light paved their way, casting two shadows on the concrete. Minutes before, Ryota and Fuuta were catching up around some drinks in the older's apartment when the boy abruptly stood from the couch, grabbing his hand and dragging him out of his apartment.

Mikaël was unsure as to why the Ranking Prince became so agitated but didn't comment on it. He merely smiled affectionately at the boy's slightly childish behavior, letting himself be guided through the night, farther from the living district and further into the shopping district.

He heard Fuuta's footstep come to a halt and lifted his gaze, golden eyes drifted to a sign atop the shop's entrance. TakeSushi. He tilted his head, the name seemed somewhat familiar.

Fuuta pushed the door open, not bothering to knock and led the way inside. Mikaël could already make out the sound of chatters from outside, voices which he knew reached his ears one by one.

"Hello everyone, sorry for being late!" Fuuta greeted with a grin as he stepped inside, announcing his presence to all. "I brought Mika-nii!" He chirped.

Fuuta's voice seemed to echo in the room which suddenly turned dead silent at the mention of the green head. Mikaël, who was only a step behind Fuuta, tilted his head, a sham grin etched on his face as he waved at his underclassmen.

The group gapped at him, tentatively reaching to touch his arms to examine if he was the real deal. Ryota kept his brilliant sham smile on, never faltering as they more or less molested him to check his 'authenticity.'

The scene lasted approximately half a minute before they once again burst into chatters. Mikaël listened, adding his two cents from time to time but never initiating the conversation.

He didn't dislike them, he simply felt like he didn't fit. Though he could be considered a friend of Takeshi, the truth was he only was an upperclassman to them, an acquaintance at most. He hummed to himself, the only group he ever fit in was the Generation of Miracles, his golden eyes tinted themselves in melancholia before he blinked it away. But nowadays, he couldn't even pretend to be part of the GOM, their path wasn't the same, they didn't intertwine the same way.

Thinking about it, it felt somewhat lonely. Being so close yet so far from them, only able to watch from afar— because he knew, he would never regain what he lost on the plane crash. He could only taste a sample of it now.

He sat in one of the corners, alone, a glass of water in hand as he silently overlooked the group of teenagers to distract his train of thoughts. He sipped on it. They were good kids, his eyes narrowed, but they obviously didn't accept him as one of them. Not that it bothered him.

He released a quiet sigh, the fake smile still perfectly painted on his lips. "Ciaossu, how are you, Mikaël?"

Ryota's golden eyes flickered upward to look at the fedora-wearing baby who sat opposite him, a glass of alcohol in hand. He hummed, taking a sip of his mineral water— not finding any weirdness at the sight of a baby drinking, he passed this stage long ago. "Great," he answered, voice a tad lazy. "Though a bit tired I suppose," he added, yawning as to prove his point.

Reborn nodded, his eyes scanned the green head's figure as if searching for something, an answer. Mikaël ignored it, long used to people scrutinizing his form, he wasn't a once-popular model for nothing, though his fame plummeted after— he mentally shook his head. Ah, Idols really got on his nerves, he absentmindedly thought.

The hitman drank some of his sake. "About what happened with the бриз," he began, tone somewhat grave and— was that lying guilt he detected in his voice?

Ryota gave the Sun his attention and the Arcobaleno resumed, tilting his fedora. "I apologize for the inconvenience they caused you," he said with a bow of his head. Mikaël's eyes rested on the petite figure in silence, the small smile on his face still present.

Eyes half-lidded, as if remembering what had happened while in Tokyo, Mikaël nodded. "It's alright," he assured dismissively. "Let bygones be bygones, you couldn't know it would turn out this way."

Reborn refrained a nod a frown on his face as he stared at the beverage in his hands. Even so, he was the one to drag Mikaël into the ring battle. Even if in the end, he wasn't the one to stand by Tsuna's side as his Guardian. He was an involved party. What's more, he should have looked into Mikaël's background more. If he did, then perhaps things would have gone differently.

"Chrome is the Mist Guardian," he said.

Ryota nodded, his eyes slightly narrowed as he looked at the girl's timid back in the crowd. "I know, Fuutacchi told me," he paused, eyeing the girl in silent contemplation before grinning more to himself than to Reborn. "I'm sure she'll fit perfectly with them," unlike me.

Reborn hummed, his eyes rested on the teen, analyzing his every move, and he couldn't help but see the youth as someone much older for an instant. There was a type of wisdom in his eyes only adult should have, a light tinted with nostalgia, fondness, envy, and bitterness as if he already lived his youth and could only melancholically look back. The discrepancy with the green's exhuberant character was concerning, Reborn promised himself to look into Mikaël's background some more once he had some time.

"Anyway, I wasn't interested in this role, to begin with," Ryota said with a laugh as he turned to face the Arcobaleno, cutting his thoughts short. "So in a way, this works out best for me."

Reborn simpered, a complicated light in his eyes which he expertly hid under a thick veil of black. "If you say so, but," he rummaged through his suit's inner pocket, pulling a card from it. "As compensation," he explained, giving the teen his card.

Ryota blinked in surprise. His golden eyes stared at the unicolor card and Reborn contemplatively. He knew from his former life, and even more from his past experience in his current life how valuable connections were. How easily they could reverse the tide, turn the tables.

Contacts could make a difference in every field nowadays if used correctly. He wasn't entirely aware of Reborn's position in the world, but he knew from instinct and experience that he wasn't someone to trifle with.

Reborn, despite his rather inoffensive appearance, was exceptionally deadly, in a metaphorical way of course— Then again, from what he saw last week, it wouldn't be all that surprising for the baby to be a dangerous criminal.

He rubbed his earlobe, let's not think about it. 

Mikaël grabbed the card and stared at its information for a few seconds before pulling out his phone and entering the baby's contact info. He dismissed how strange the situation was and instead refocused himself on Reborn— if he could ignore the baby drinking, him owning a phone and a business card wasn't strange.

"Since we are at it, I've been meaning to ask, who is Alice?" Ryota asked, "To the бриз, I mean," he elaborated.

Reborn first raised a surprised eyebrow at the unexpectedly well-pronounced name of the infamous Bratva, not expecting the teen to speak, or at least have some Russian notions. He then narrowed his eyes. "Alice," he repeated, the name familiar yet foreign at the same time.

Alice was a regular French name, after all, it wouldn't be surprising for him to have worked with someone named so, or to have had a target named this way. It left a wide range of possibility.

He hummed, from the context, this Alice person most likely was linked to Aleksey's Bratva, thereof, he needed to look for a girl, most probably French who worked with them. Or someone from their entourage.

He quickly skimmed through his memory, searching for anything recent or notable involving the girl, most probably woman before he shook his head. "I'll look into it—"

"Lamarre, Alice Lamarre," Mikaël added, cutting off the hitman. "My mother."

Reborn paused before frowning. "Your mother," he repeated, the words seeming foreign to the man. He petted Leon's head, in thoughts before shaking his head. "Leave me some time, I'll get back to you once I'm clear on that."

Mikaël nodded, smiling. "Don't worry, I'm not in a hurry. Just curious."

Reborn hummed, he took a sip of his drink. "Right, for the time being, I could give you that," he pulled a folded sheet of paper from his suit's inner pocket, and Ryota had to wonder how he could fit so many things in those.

"You could say it's both from me and Fuuta."

Mikaël stared at the paper with a raised eyebrow, he gave Reborn an inquiring look before unfolding it. In black ink, at the top of what seemed to be a record, his name was written in bold letters: Mikaël Lamarre, official ranking. There was a signature at the bottom, as it to testify the authenticity of the document and date. Taking note of it, Ryota skeptically noted that it was less than a month old— he didn't remember taking part in anything worth ranking two weeks ago.

Ryota's golden eyes quickly went over it, his confused expression slowly morphing into a frown as a flash of mild fright and curiosity lit his eyes. "Did you—"

"I read it already," Reborn said, straying his gaze from the green head to look at the partying teens. "I was the one to ask Fuuta for it in the first place."

Mikaël rubbed his left earlobe, biting his lower lip he didn't register how Fuuta was the one to write this ranking sheet, his attention was focused on one particular line. Though the ranking was nothing remarkable, it is the name that was troubling.

Or more precisely, the fact that his name was associated with it. Otherworldly knowledge. Reading it made him unconsciously shiver as Reborn's gaze turned him more and more uncomfortable.

"I won't ask questions," Reborn added as if reading the teen's mind. "It is not my place to do so."

Unintentionally, his tensed shoulders relaxed, he released a sigh.

Reborn watched, a ghost of a frown on his face before he looked away.

::

"Man, Mika, at last, you remember your friend uh?" Jun drawled, lower lip pursed out in a pout as he childishly glared at the green head.

Mikaël weakly laughed. "Mou, JunJun, no need to be so angry," the teen whined, throwing his arms around the raven head.

Jun humphed, sharply turning his head to the side. "JunJun? What am I, your pet?" The boy asked petulantly, his lips twitched to refrain himself from smiling as he looked everywhere but at his friend.

"Aww, JunJun, don't be angry, please," Ryota begged, hiding the laughter in his voice— he did feel guilty after all.

The glasses-wearing teen puffed out his cheeks, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose before nesting his face deeper into the collar of his shirt. "-cchi," he whispered, earning a questioning hum from his friend. "Juncchi."

Ryota's golden eyes widened before he owlishly blinked a few time. He burst out laughing. "Sure. Whatever you want, Juncchi!" He happily conceded.

The raven's lips twitched, still refusing to look at the green head he nonetheless readjusted his grip on him, careful as not to let him fall from his back.

Mikaël's eyes crinkled, his whole aura dripped with unrestrained joy. He rubbed his cheek against the other boy's soft locks of black. "I knew you loved me, Juncchi!"

Junichiro couldn't help his lips from curling up into a smile, his cheeks were coated in light pink as he arrogantly harrumphed. "Not as much as you, obviously."

Ryota giggled. "Yes, yes. I obviously love you more!"

"Eww, please don't Mika. I don't see you like that."

"Anything for you, honey!"

::

"A-ano, Mikaël-senpai!" Tsunayoshi called out, making the older boy stop as he exited the Senior High school's school ground.

The second-year halted his steps, making the raven head beside him stop and turn to look at the brown head running their way, a second-year from the color of his tie and most probably in Junior High as he didn't see him around much. 

"Tsunayoshi?" Ryota rhetorically asked as his eyes landed on the sweating teen. "Do you have a problem?" He said, noting the somewhat erratic state of his underclassman. It wasn't strange per see, Tsunayoshi always seemed to be at the edge of a burnout, but his eyes usually didn't hold as much panic.

Tsunayoshi bit his lower lip, his hand frantically swept through his spiky locks of brown as he tried to calm his breathing. "I-it's Reborn, did you see Reborn?"

Mikaël knitted his brows. "Reborn? No, I didn't. Last time I saw him was for your celebration, after the Ring Battle—" he could feel Jun's somewhat reproachful gaze at the mention of a party he wasn't invited to. "— Is it something important?"

The teen hurriedly nodded. "Yeah, it's been a week since I last saw him. I'm worried," he admitted.

Ryota pursed his lips, pulling out his phone. "Do you want me to call him?"

"You have his number? Wait— Reborn has a phone?" He stuttered, forgetting his mom once called the baby for him to be his tutor, the flyer was still stuck on the fridge— not that the panicked Tsunayoshi remembered at the moment.

Mikaël tentatively nodded his head. Was it so surprising for him to have the baby's phone number?

Tsunayoshi collected his nerves. "Y-yes, please. Can you call him Mikaël-senpai?"

"Give me a sec'."

Jun, who stood by his friend, took this time to observe the teenager in front of them some more. He didn't think both of them had met before but he for sure knew who he was. It was a sad thing, but Dame-Tsuna's fame had reached Senior High School long ago. He simpered, his eyes betraying the pity he felt for the boy at the moment.

"Sorry, I can't reach him."

Tsunayoshi bit his lower lip. "I-I see," he managed to stutter out before releasing a shaky breath. "Thank you Mikaël-senpai," he bade with a bow, sparing the raven head an apologetic glance before taking off running in the opposite direction.

Ryota starred at his retreating back with mixed feelings, the supposed disappearance of the Arcobaleno didn't sit well with him.

"A friend of yours?"

Ryota blinked, Jun's voice bringing him out of his musings. "Yeah, something like that," he evasively said, referring to the brown-haired teen.

Jun hummed, his eyes shifted to the small back of the teen before he looked back at his friend. He grinned. "Whatever, count on me to spend the night at your home," he chirped, "count it as you owing me one."

Mikaël simpered. "Sure," he drawled. "No need to be such a Tsundere Juncchi. If you want to sleep with me, you can say it directly," he teased, quickening his pace as to lead the way to his apartment.

An offended snort left the raven's mouth as he hurried to catch up to his friend. "Sleep with you? Don't take your dreams for reality, pal!"

In the shadow, hiding behind a pillar a few meters away from the two bantering teens, a figure frowned. They gripped on a metallic tube, bitting their lower lip as if deep in thought before releasing a helpless sigh.

It was no good if they were together, he had to be alone. The hidden form brushed its hair back, messing it up. "'Don't have time," they— the boy muttered as he stole a glance at his wristwatch.

The boy was clever, he closed his eyes and went over his list of targets. If he couldn't send the green-haired teen first, he would send the so-called future mafia Boss instead.

The order didn't matter, so long as he respected the timing. After Lambo's guardian, he would look for a grumpy silver head, and then a sporty raven head. All three of them should be the same age and friends.

He sighed, his eyes trained on the much older teen's retreating back. As for this one, he would have to send him after those three, instead of before.

He walked away, preparing his next move— ah, he had to remember to shoot the babies too. He mentally gripped his head, lamenting his fate before psyching himself up.

Get yourself together Shoichi, you can't stop now! If not you, then who will do it?

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

This chapter officially marks the beginning of Future Arc, yay!

Thanks for reading, until next time^^