"Your fate, good Sir, resides in The Fool."

"The Fool?"

The lady nodded, an engaging smirk painted on her crimson lips.

The man beside the blond scowled, taking a threatening step forward he stopped. His movement came to a halt as he perceived the dangerous glare from the older male.

The madame gave a charming laugh.

"But beware, for you might be the foolish one."

::

A pregnant silence filled the large dining room, leaving behind the sound of cutlery hitting plates. Thick tension permeated the place, making those who weren't accustomed to such situations freeze in place.

Ryota sat opposite the master of the house, his golden eyes never strayed from his plate and the delicious-looking dish inside as he slowly bit a piece of beef. The tender meat felt tasteless under his palate, similar to an elastic shoe sole. He drowned the bland flavor with some expensive wine, making his gesture smooth and natural as if appreciating some good wine after a delectable piece of meat.

Behind him, standing straight and taking in his every moves with unhidden fascination, was a pink-haired teen. The boy, a year younger than Mikaël, was at sixteen one of the current Rain Guardian's most trusted aides. It came as no surprise when one knew the half-Indian had raised the mute boy as his son since he was five. Shura gently bit his lower lip, restraining a shiver from coursing down his spine as he appreciated the flawless act the green-haired teen, his future Boss put up.

Of course, his Boss had to be at the top of the food chain. He wouldn't settle for anything else. And although he hadn't witnessed his fighting prowesses yet— his dream didn't count, he admitted that seeing eye to eye with a man such as Aleksey Levin was a feat. One he admired— perhaps unknowingly glorified from the education Devdas gave him, but he approved of it nonetheless.

Aleksey, his plate empty, skillfully took the white napkin that rested on his lap. Elegantly, as if straight out of a painting, he dabbed his lips before folding the silk cloth, putting it beside his plate and taking his wine glass. He observed the dark red liquid with careful golden eyes before gently twirling his glass, liking the traces it left on the transparent sides of the glass. He brought it to his lips, the crimson color neatly contrasted with the morbid pallor of the man's skin, giving off a deadly yet almost ethereal feeling to the onlookers.

"So, tell me Sir Benefactor," Aleksey addressed, breaking the silence in fluent Russian. "What do you expect from My humble Organization after helping us?"

Ryota's hand unnoticeably froze mid-air before he tucked the piece of vegetable into his mouth. Chewing, in neither slow nor hurried manner, he silently took his napkin and wiped his mouth, not forgetting to rinse his mouth with the water glass beside the wine glass.

Aleksey observed the younger boy's every move, concealed mirth glinting in his golden irises as he kept his usual bland expression on his face, not revealing an ounce of his feelings.

"I do not expect anything, Sir Aleksey," Ryota beamed, keeping his nerves in check, restraining his body from twitching and betraying him as he kept Seijuro's lessons in mind.

Aleksey's eyes narrowed as he leaned in his seat, sipping on his drink. He watched with some boredom as the maidservants and butlers hurried to clear the table of their dish, taking out a new set of cutlery and setting them before him and his guest for the dessert.

"Oh," he vocalized, tone flat to show he had listened.

Ryota didn't take note of the disinterested mood slowly settling on the adult's face. Instead, he refrained a smirk from creeping up his face and kept a genuine-looking grin painted on his face.

"But if Sir Aleksey insists, who am I to deny your kindness?" he rhetorically asked, his eyes showcasing his dismay. Focusing his golden hues on the man, he lightly blinked his thick green lashes, a pitiful attempt to puppy eye the man.

Aleksey's thin lips which were previously stretched into a flat line twitched before they gently quirked up, turning into an amused simper. He mentally laughed at the teen's words before narrowing his eyes. For a split second, he saw The Fool, and his heart dropped, he felt himself getting soft.

Ah, truly identical.

He relished in those golden eyes for a few more seconds, enjoying the quiver of those lush green colored lashes. The movement around him of people bringing out dessert and serving him a new glass of champagne didn't bring him out of his daydream as he quietly appreciated this pair of enchanting eyes again.

Ah, when was the last time he saw them?

Taking hold of his champagne glass, he calmly appreciated its small bubbles and the way they seemed to dance within the golden liquid. "You have a beautiful pair of eyes," he responded, seemingly out of the blue before taking a sip of the alcoholic drink.

Ryota blinked, not having quite expected such an answer before beaming, a sham laugh slipping past his slightly parted lips. "Why, thank you, Sir Aleksey."

The Russian man merely waved his hand, taking hold of his spoon and fork. "Eat," he ushered.

Ryota calmly nodded, voicing his agreement before grabbing his cutlery. Unlike before, when the food seemed insipid and tasteless, he could feel the sweetness of the strawberry sorbet as it melted on his tongue, the flavor complimenting that of the black olive perfectly.

In this strange fashion, silence once again settled in the vast dining room.

::

Natalia silently reviewed the few letters addressed to the Bratva. Classifying them in order of importance, she took the liberty of opening some of them she identified as unworthy of her Lord's attention.

Her neatly trimmed nails, painted in a nude color expertly went through the papers before halting and hovering over a creamed colored envelope. Her features which previously displayed indifference and professionalism morphed into a tight frown.

She pursed her red-tinted lips, mechanically tucking a strand of her brown locks behind her ear in contemplation. Her honey-brown eyes sharpened, losing its previously weak condition as they went over the crest of the sender a third time.

A shield with a single bullet standing proudly in the middle of it, two rifles crossed over it and a clam resting atop of it all. Some vines remained around for the style, but it didn't take more for the Lightning Guardian to know who the sender was.

The Vongola Famiglia.

Her irises imbued themselves in electric green as she tore the envelope open and examined the mail for an answer. The foreign color faded from her eyes as they went back to their usual honey-brown, and she bit her lower lip.

This signature, Vongola Nono without a doubt.

She sighed, casting a side glance at the remaining letters before carefully putting the creamed colored envelope aside. With used patience, she finished her organizing.

"Take up from there," she ordered to one of her underlines behind her. The man sharply raised his head, concealing his surprise and the predatory glint in his eyes, he stiffly nodded, standing up and walking to his superior to receive the documents.

Natalia didn't add a word, her eyes calmly scrutinizing the male's figure she refrained a disgusted look from appearing on her face, keeping her mild demeanor in check.

Oh, how she hated delegating her work.

With sharp eyes, she observed the man's back. This rat, she mused as she cleaned her desk of any important and confidential document. She would need to take care of him soon, she grabbed the creamed colored envelope, tucking it in her inner pocket. Before he tries to bite the hand that fed him.

With these thoughts, she knew weren't far from the reality, she walked out of the Lightning division to the main office— Aleksey's study.

In this world where it's killed or be killed, she knew all too well how to survive. Nonna wasn't a name she had received without shedding blood.

In a few steps, under the fearful and respectful eyes of some of the Bratva's people, she reached the grand mahogany door of the study. Unbothered by the attention she long grew accustomed to, she knocked.

::

Ryota, confusion evident in his golden eyes, kept a perfect smile on his face as he faced the mute pink-haired teenager. It was his second day in Russia, and ever since his first encounter with the man he supposed was his progenitor, the boy hadn't left his side.

Stickier than glue, he followed him everywhere until Ryota had no other choice but to bend to the younger's demand.

"Shura, was it?" the green-haired teen asked, at last, breaking the awkward silence. He sat cross-legged in a room he knew all too well from his trip to the future: the sparring room.

The pink head, still beaming and with an undescribable glint in his light blue eyes, energetically nodded. Hurriedly, he began to move his hands in a precise yet chaotic looking manner. His features displayed what Ryota identified as expectation and bliss, but he couldn't quite understand why.

His golden eyes darted about, trying to follow every one of the teen's movements. His brows were knitted in a tight frown before he released a sigh, ruffling his green locks in the process.

"I'm sorry, Shura, I'm not proficient in Sign Language," he interrupted, an apologetic look on his face as his smile turned a bit strained.

The sixteen-year-old owlishly blinked his blue eyes, his hands paused mid-air as his lips formed an 'O' shape, as if he had just realized there was a one-sided barrier language between them.

Feeling his excitation cool down, Shura quietly put his hand on his lap. He tilted his head to the side in thoughts, obvious disappointment showing on his face.

Ryota who carefully followed his every move momentarily paused. He should grab this occasion to go back to his room and meet up with Claude, but strangely enough, he felt urged to speak with the pink head.

"I can try to guess?" he said, not registering when he opened his mouth. "I mean, I can ask questions, and try to understand your answers?"

Shura's mood visibly brightened as he nodded, signing his agreement in the process. Without meaning to, Ryota chuckled at the childish display, leaning forward to pet the boy's mop of pink, the same way he treated Fuuta. He felt the boy confusedly lean in his touch before he hurriedly took his hand back as if realizing his uncalled act of affection.

Ryota fake coughed, hiding his embarrassment before displaying another smile. "A-anyway, let's begin, shall we?"

In this way, they proceeded to communicate with one another. At first, the questions were basic, ranging from Shura's name to his hobbies. The teen would patiently repeat his moves until Ryota got them right, not so hard with his perfect copy, it was harder to get their meaning down. Time went on, and the conversation turned smoother, Shura's answer got longer, his gesture coming out more fluently as Ryota got accustomed to them.

"—Right, Shura, I've been meaning to ask," Ryota hesitantly began, not sure of the way he should broach the topic. "Did you receive your future self's memories— I mean, did you have some strange dreams lately?"

Shura's grin stretched as he nodded. 'Memories,' he signed, taking a bit more time on the word to let Mikaël assimilate it before he went on. 'I did, His Lordship, the Lords, and the Lady did too,' he added, keeping his words and formulation as simple as possible.

Ryota's eyes which were narrowed as he attentively registered the teen's moves glinted before he nodded in understanding. "Then, do you remember Juncchi and Shuzocchi?" he questioned, feeling oddly excited at the prospect.

Feeling a pang in his chest as those names rolled off the green head's tongue, Shura slightly frowned. 'I do,' he signed, though a bit petulant. 'Why?'

Ryota's eyes glimmered before dimming down at the teen's suddenly sour mood. "'Something wrong, Shura?"

The pink head pursed his lower lip out in a pout before grumpily nodding his head. His arms crossed over his chest, he angrily let his finger tap on his forearm rhythmically, each hit separated by a precise amount of time and neatly ordered.

Ryota stared baffled, not quite understanding the situation. Sure he could more or less understand Sign Language now, but it didn't mean he was in any way proficient in Morse Code, the two were completely different matters.

Trying to gather his nerves, he could only anxiously look at the boy as the speed of his tapping went up. It was strange. Somehow, he knew the pink head was mad at him, and most probably berating him to his face in Morse, but he didn't understand a thing.

He felt himself get more and more embarrassed, especially from the looks the Mafia men around him sent their way. He instinctively knew they were aimed at him.

Ryota racked his brains for answers before he shamelessly spluttered, "Is it because of Juncchi?"

Shura's blue eyes momentarily widened in confusion, and Ryota who faced him could almost read the question: "Who the hell are you talking about?" In his mind, Ryota lit a candle for his friend in Japan. The poor boy was trying to learn Sign Language for the mysterious lover of his dream while said lover didn't put him in his eyes.

Back to topic, despite not recognizing— more like acknowledging the raven head, Shura's frown deepened at his mention. Annoyed, he abruptly stood up. His blue eyes coursed with a green light as he cast the sitting teen a reproachful look. With a huff, he pulled a strawberry flavored lollipop from his pocket, angrily stuffing it in his mouth and crushing it under his teeth, he stomped away.

Ryota blinked, at lost. From the corner of his eyes, he saw Claude who was leaning against the wall slowly walk closer. The man crouched down, putting a hand on the boy's shoulder as he sent him a pitying yet amused look.

"It's the name, Mika. His name."

Ryota who still didn't understand looked at his manager, perplexed.

Shura has some Tsundere tendencies lol

Also, this Arc should come to an end next chapter, soon we'll go back to some more Canon events, do look forward to them ^^

Thanks for reading, until next time ^^