Chapter Text
Let it be known that Reborn was a man of his word.
As the world-proclaimed Greatest Hitman, he has built a reputation with not only his prowess, but also his word. He looks down from his pedestal towards the people and he shoots, that is how he gains their fear. He declares something preposterous and ensures that it is carried out to its end, that is how he gains respect.
When the underworld hears the name of Hitman Reborn, he makes sure they know that anything he declares to do, it will happen .
So the mafiosi hold their breaths and pray to their Lord Almighty once the news spreads of his tutoring of the Vongola Decimo-to-be.
But Reborn himself is begrudged. Sitting in front of Vongola Nono, tea in hand that he so desperately wants to throw across the floor. The elder man is serene, face soft with wrinkles and exhaustion, but even being blessed with years of wisdom does not erase the foolishness Reborn views Timoteo with at the moment.
The next Vongola boss is a civilian. Not only that, he is only barely a teenager, a foreigner to boot, who has no knowledge of his affiliations.
“This is dangerous.” Is the only thing he can say.
“I have no choice.” Is what Timoteo replies with. He at least has the decency to look remorseful, but it falls flat. It's obvious now that he had been pondering on this decision for a while. Vongola Nono fully intends to absorb this civilian, teenage boy into their world consequences-be-damned, all for the sake of keeping their famiglia standing.
And he had made that intent very clear as soon as he pulled favors, by asking the World's Greatest Hitman to tutor that very boy. What else is that supposed to imply? That he is willing to get Reborn involved with the innocent— to drag a child into their world.
The silence that follows is heavy with suspense.
“And you approve of this?” Reborn fixes his eyes on the man standing at the corner of the room. Iemitsu had deigned to stay silent the entire time, so uncharacteristic of the man, who would always find the best opportunity to brag about his wife and his son.
His son , who he had willingly offered to Timoteo on a silver platter. When Iemitsu speaks, blank eyes and a tone of finality, Reborn finds that he is not looking at a father, but the External Advisor of Vongola.
“Like Nono said, Reborn. We have no choice.”
“He's your son. ” He can't help but raise his brow snidely at the man. Iemitsu has always been a perfect picture of intelligence and obedience, as you'd expect from Vongola's CEDef head, but you'd think that at the face of his family’s safety being threatened, that he would at least rebel against it.
Isn't he a self-proclaimed family man?
What Iemitsu says next however, reminds Reborn that no, not family.
“It's best this way, there was always going to be trouble keeping them safe, Reborn.” The external advisor grunts as if annoyed that he has to go through this discussion. “Bringing them in now will keep the family safe.”
What was unsaid, the hitman heard clearly. It will keep the famiglia safe.
This, unfortunately, is not something Reborn can comment on. What does he know about family? He certainly didn't stick around long enough to build one of his own. Although this, he thinks, is not something he wants to be involved with.
Being caught up between a rock and a hard place is not an ideal situation, not especially when forcefully involving those who have no proper ties to the mafia. Blood-related the boy may be, it is not sufficient enough of a reason to reveal the mafia to him— at least, it is not right for Reborn to expose him to it, he's looking at a one-way ticket to the Vindice's deepest and darkest cell in their version of hell.
Timoteo speaks up before he can think to reject, “Please, old friend.” The old boss pleads, fingers rubbing the Vongola ring on his thumb, “You understand how important this is to us. I can only trust you to achieve this, it would only be right.”
Reborn, miffed, simply drank his tea slowly.
He had once been helped by the Vongola, and he had promised them one favor in return.
Let it be known that Reborn is a man of his word, whether it be a threat or a promise, he does not forsake it.
Still, he can't help but feel rage at the way he's being used like a tool.
Entering Namimori was easier said than done.
Gathering intel on the town and his to-be student was far worse.
“What do you mean,” He controls his irritation to only a low growl, “There's nothing?”
Lal Mirch clicks her tongue, “When I mean there's nothing, I mean there's nothing!” She however had no qualms in letting her emotions run free. Working like a slave day in and out ever since the death of the last heir.
Reborn's lip twitches, crossing his legs and looking out the window of the moving train. “How hard can it be to gather information on a town? It's not like they're fortified. Those things are hardly ever advanced or secure.”
“Are you even listening to me, Reborn?” The CEDef agent's voice powered through his phone, “Go ahead and see if you can do any better than CEDef's information network then! I'm telling you we have nothing. Nothing valuable, not even a population size. It's suspicious, we've sent four agents over the course of eighteen months and nothing . They are all MIA. I've reported this to that idiot Iemitsu, and he brushes it off, tells us to send another one! But. we. have. got. nothing.”
“CEDef agents disappearing?” The hitman brow furrowed, so unlike him to show visible emotion, but everything is starting to frustrate him. He’s on a train to Hokkaido, the sky blurring past, he has no information on the location he's supposed to live in for an indefinite amount of time, much less information on the child he's going to train. Lal Mirch is admitting that their spies are incompetent, and that Iemitsu is a blind buffoon.
“Not only that.” She grunts out, “If Iemitsu hadn't told me about the town, I wouldn't have thought it existed. There are no birth certificates addressed to it, no official registry, nothing to indicate that anything remotely related to Namimori exists in Japan.” Someone shouts in the background, the office back in Italy no doubt in disarray, Lal Mirch replies away from the phone. They are obviously understaffed. As it is, Reborn's dilemma is probably the least of her concerns.
It's not uncommon for towns or villages to go unrecorded in most countries, most likely they are underfunded, or too small to be considered a place of residence; those often slip pass official procedures, some care too less than most.
“Not even satellite images?” He threw around, “Calamity reports, land surveys, waterline inspections?”
“No landmarks, all dirt paths lead to mountains. No faultlines in the recent years close to it. If there were Reborn, we wouldn't be having this conversation.”
But even those in seclusion can be found with a little searching. They are always trails, even something as little as a news article, maybe trades, school documents, something that can be traced back to the town. It's hard to believe that the town could be so closed off that they were almost quiet .
But then, he realizes, can't it be?
Just how did Iemitsu find this town?
“How huge is the possibility,” Reborn says after a short while of phone static, Lal Mirch pauses her rambling, “Of the town being purposefully hidden away?”
The only question to ask would be: why?
“Get Iemitsu on the phone.”
NSO
Sawada Tsunayoshi | Birthdate: 10/14/xxxx | Sex: M
Mother’s Name: Sawada Nana
Father's Name: Sawada Iemitsu
Place of Birth: Namimori
Address of Birth: Namimori General Hospital
Type: B-
Health Record
Sawada Tsunayoshi | Age: 13 | Sex: M
Height: ---
Weight: ---
BPI: ---
Cardiovascular: ---
Respiratory: ---
Psychological Evaluation: ---
Pointblank to the eye and leg, maybe Iemitsu's left lung too if Reborn is feeling particularly vindictive. The man was short of anything but useful. What you would expect from a man who apparently loves his family, is a full report and description when asked of his son's current state in his daily life, maybe his son's hobbies, or his favorite food, Reborn would have willingly sat through a father's proud rambling if it meant he could get a feel for what his future student would be.
What you don't expect is for the father to simply supply a birth certificate and a hospital record . For all he jumped up and down talking about his ‘precious tuna-fish and his silly habit of crying at everything ’, Iemitsu knows absolutely nothing about his own child. Does he even know how old the boy is?
Not to mention, his frustrating vagueness at the circumstances around Namimori. Not outright stating the issue with his missing agents, not claiming anything wrong with the location, brushing off genuine concerns of the possible threat in general.
“It's an isolated place, Reborn. It's normal to have some blank spots here and there. It isn't going to pose a problem I assure you. Plus! My sweet Nana lives there! You think I'd let her and tuna-fish live somewhere I wasn't sure was safe?”
Bull- fucking- shit. He’ll call it, Iemitsu knows something but isn't willing to admit it, the hitman will make him eat his marriage certificate.
Here Reborn is, standing in a desolate train station somewhere in the outskirt of Japan, following directions hastily written on a notepad of all things given to him by the CEDef's Rain boy, because of course if Namimori has no official records, it would follow that there would be no representative of it in any map of the country.
The hitman had already bypassed the emotion of pure rage two train rides ago, now he's just plain offended, all but ready to destroy his phone, cut contact and go under the radar for ten or so years. Fuck this contract, fuck this job, fuck Vongola Nono.
Is what he would think if he didn't have pride in his work. No, instead he picks up a cab, rattles the address and gives the driver's befuddled look at seeing an infant in his passenger seat a sharp impatient smile.
This is going to be a long ride, and he doesn't mean the cab.
The first thing he notices, when he passes the checkpoint, is that Namimori is exceptionally well developed for an isolated town. He'd had expected something smaller, more dirt roads and farmland like a typical backwater place given the distance from the mainland. What he had observed was far more than that.
More solid and well established, not many vehicles in sight, spaced out neighborhoods and markets— big enough to house many civilians, but tight enough to not have overpopulated.
The second thing he notices are the eyes. Eyes everywhere. But that's not what surprises him, Reborn is used to being watched. He figured that in a town like this they didn't get a lot of visitors, much less a foreigner.
No, what makes his hair prick up are the amount of children watching him.
The adults glance at him and look away almost immediately, dragging their kids away faster than before. But the children? They stare, long and hard and devoid of that childish wonder he gets from being seen as an infant in a suit.
Walking past a playground, he could hear a pin drop and there would be stares. Not only that, he noticed earlier, but he was being followed around by a group of teens sporting black gakurans and out-dated pompadours, whenever he turned around there would be no one, but he would hear the trees rustle, the roofs creak, or watch a shadow at the corner of his eye.
The children were watching him, they weren't discreet about it, and he's left with more questions than answers.
But Reborn would not let himself be deterred, he has a job to perform, though strange this town might be, he will deal with it later— focus on the kid he's supposed to train. As long as the town does not interfere with his mission, he has no reason to meddle with its affairs.
(Later Reborn would shoot himself in the head for that mistake. Always be wary of your surroundings, find your ground or make your ground. That is the first rule to being a hitman. He hadn't been sure what got him acting so complacent.
Were it any more dangerous to him than to its locals, Reborn was sure he would have been dead at Namimori's front porch by his own doing.
Later he would also realize, like watching yourself fall slowly off a building, that his mission had been compromised soon before it had even started.)
The hitman first prepared, located the Sawada household and let himself observe the family for a day. Unlike his run with Dino, this would have to go a different way. He would introduce himself as a tutor first, mafia later, maybe via a forced interaction with an affiliated crime gang. (He deluded himself into thinking that way he wouldn't be directly responsible for the boy's entry to the underworld.)
He slipped the poster into the mail that morning and monitored the house from the backyard tree. So far he had counted only two residents within the house, Sawada Nana and Tsunayoshi, the wife had been absent from the house the afternoon he had arrived, a well placed bug informing him that she had gone off to a kindergarten.
Already there was an error in Iemitsu’s intel, Reborn couldn't help the twitch in his eye, he had claimed that she was a full-time stay home. With his paycheck easily covering all their expenses she had no need to look for a job.
But he brushed it off in favor of focusing on his target, Sawada Tsunayoshi, his school records reported his poor performance, consistently low scores, his Social Studies lay just about at average, not good in any sports for that matter. As he observed him throughout the day, Reborn thinks he could be perfectly described as a textbook loser. He slept through his alarm, woke up ten minutes before school started, and tripped an ungodly amount of times on nothing but his own two feet.
At school he was no better, Tsunayoshi barely listened to his teachers, and when he got called, he would do nothing but flush and stutter, to the amusement of his peers and much to the grief of his superiors.
The hitman hadn't been surprised to hear his nickname was Dame-Tsuna.
Overall, he was an average teenage boy, with some of his childishness still withstanding— only thirteen after all. He would come home, disregard his homework and play games or read manga, just how a teen would be expected to behave.
Reborn somehow finds it in him to pity the poor kid.
He leaves before the sun sets, come morning his mission will officially start. But today, he will finish his preparations and maybe if he's lucky, find an altar to pray to a god for strength, even if the hitman doesn't believe in them.
Tsuna's been feeling fuzzy the entire morning. It had lingered at the back of his head, like an itch he could scratch but couldn't satisfy.
The day had started like every other, with him failing to wake up to his alarm and being late to school. Somehow though, in his panicked daze, Tsuna felt the air shift in his room. The breeze hit his back as he changed into his uniform, did he leave the windows open last night? Why did the leaves sound heavier when it rustled? He hastily cast the thoughts aside and instead jumped down the stairs—and tripped in his unawesome fashion—before kissing his mom goodbye and launching himself onto the street towards the school.
It might have been a bird or something, he was growing sensitive to those kinds of things lately.
Except the feeling of being bothered didn't fade away, not when he turned the corner and tripped on the side road, not even when he barged into class only seconds before the bell rang. He could tell himself that it bothered him so much that he couldn't concentrate on class, but he'd be lying to himself because he never listened to Nezu-sensei anyways.
Tsuna had to stop himself from letting his eyes roam, because that would only draw his teacher's anger towards him even more. But it didn't stop him from fidgeting, uncomfortable in his own seat as the fuzziness in his head migrated into the goosebumps on his skin. Nothing was happening, it was so normal today, so why was he filled with anxiety?
Nothing was different. The teacher still hated him, his classmates still made fun of him.
So why did it feel like he had to brace himself?
“Sawada.” A voice broke him out of his stupor, in front of him, Hana stood with her hand on her hip and a brow raised. “What's wrong? You're spacing out more than usual.”
The words processed slowly, he continued to stare at his classmate in silence, not knowing how to answer. Only at her more aggressive furrow of a brow did he fully snap out of it, “A-ah, no, it's nothing, Hana-chan.” Waving his hands pathetically in front of him, he realized that the bell had already dismissed them for the day, so Tsuna mechanically stood up and gathered his things, only then having the opportunity to look out the windows. Nothing there, but something.
“Tsuna-kun, are you sure you're alright?” Kyoko voices beside him, turning to where he stopped to stare, only to find the overgrown tree that mostly covered their view of the field. “You're acting really weird.”
Hana scoffs and mutters something about him always being weird.
“Y-yeah.” He just says dully, “Just a bad day, I guess.”
Kyoko looked like she wanted to ask, but it seemed like Hana had enough of it. Quickly as she went, opening the classroom doors and called for Kyoko to leave with her. They both bid goodbye, leaving the boy in his fuzzy head and itchy skin, all too scared to know what was waiting for him back home.
The next day, he got his answer.
“A… tutor?” His mom beamed, so excited at the prospect of Tsuna getting, apparently, a stay home tutor.
“There was a poster in the mail!” She exclaimed, showing him a piece of flyer with the worst graphic he's ever seen, reading ‘We Train Your Children To Be The Bosses of Tomorrow ’ and damned if he thinks that it's an obvious scam.
“So I called in and told them we could use help or two, and they're coming in today!”
Tsuna spat his drink out, now almost fully awake. It was one of the rare days he had woken up to the sound of his alarm. The boy basked in the achievement and decided to take a slow morning, but now he can't help but feel he's being brought karmic punishment.
“Mom! That sounds really suspicious, are we really going to let a stranger live with us?” Tsuna cried, coughing up his lungs at the shock.
“Oh they can't be all that bad, right?” She cooed, “I mean these things usually cost so much! But all they're demanding is a place to stay and food, can't hurt to try right!”
No, it will hurt to try, it will very much hurt to try. Tsuna can't even imagine how bad of an idea it is to even hire a tutor. First of all, no matter what he does or tries, his grades will always be that hopeless, he doesn't need another adult to look at him with disappointment. Second of all, that is!!! A stranger!! Living in his home!!
Blaring sounds go off in Tsuna's brain, he wants to ask his mom, but she's already immersed herself in her cooking, humming a jumpy tune as she flits in the kitchen. But does she know their name, where they're from? If they just entered the town? Because Tsuna would have certainly known if something like this was going around town, he has never heard of anyone around the neighborhood offering tutoring services with a scummy ad like that!
Come to think of it, didn’t Kusakabe-senpai mention someone recently appearing from outside?
The doorbell rings, catching the attention of both its residents.
“That must be the tutor! Tsu-kun, could you get it please? I'm about to finish up here!” His mom excitedly squeals, he doesn't get it. Why is she so happy about this tutor? Wow, did he really fail her as a son?
He shuffles towards the door, somehow it appears more intimidating than it usually does, but it's a door, and somehow his trembling hand finds the strength to twist the knob.
There's no one in front of him?
“Ciaossu.”
He looks around, yeah, no, there's literally no one around. Just as Tsuna is about to move his feet, his eyes gravitate down to see an…
…infant, in a suit and fedora. Is that lizard staring at him?
“I'm the new tutor, Reborn.” It says.
The infant is met with silence.
“W-what the… what the f–”
In quick loser fashion, the kid freaks out.
“ Mom !?” He pulled his head back into the house to shout, Reborn allowed him in favor of observing the boy more closely. Tsunayoshi stands awkwardly in the doorway, not knowing what to do as his mom shouts back to wait a second.
Up close, the hitman can confirm that the boy is awfully short or his age, only looking smaller with his constant hunch. His chestnut hair seems to take on a gravity defying shape, swaying in the air like it had its own will. Tsunayoshi's eyes, so unlike Iemitsu's golden ones, land everywhere but on him, but he has yet to take his attention off of Reborn, he'll cut the boy some slack, it's not everyday you see a baby in a suit walk up to your front porch after all.
“Where are your uh, parents kid?” He croaks out and that's not good, Reborn will have to beat that stuttering out of his mouth, a mafia boss can't be caught in such a pathetic sight.
“Twelve feet under and none of my business frankly.” He hears Tsunayoshi ground out a disbelieving ‘what’ before he continued, “Like I said, I'm the new tutor, Reborn. Pleasure doing business with you.” The poor kid seems to be reeling from his words, this the hitman won't help him with— because while Reborn won't immediately introduce himself as mafia, damn him if he can't have his flavor of chaotic fun in the meantime.
“You must be out of your-” The teen couldn't finish that sentence, having met the receiving end of Reborn's merciless kick to the head instead, he was growing impatient. The teen went down with a spectacular shriek.
Someone emerges from the house, as Sawada Nana wiped her hands on her apron she graced the entrance with her presence. “Oh my! What do we have here?”
Leaving the kid on the ground, the hitman instead held his gaze forward and tipped his fedora in greeting. “Ciaossu, Sawada Nana. I must say, I am grateful that you accepted my offer.”
The woman made a noise of wonder, kneeling down to his level to take him in. She seemed like the type to adore children, if her kindergarten job is anything to go by.
Used to the skepticism of adults, he let her eyes roam at his form and wondered off-handedly if she were the type of mother to sense a threat to their child. Nana kept herself at a respectable distance, a smile pasted on her lips like she was considering something about him.
“Are you one of those prodigy kids on tv?” She asks sweetly, “It must be hard being so smart while being so young!
A bit of an airhead, then. Reborn could work with that, if anything, this might make it easier for him to drag her son around, he would not have to put her in danger— the hitman thinks he owes the kid that at least.
Speaking of the kid, still pathetically laying on the ground, Tsunayoshi slowly brings himself to his knees muttering to himself. “Obviously not!” He exclaims, “Mom, this is probably a new swindling method or something— there's no way this baby is actually here to tutor me!”
At least he has a bit of a backbone, but the whine in his voice makes Reborn twitch for Leon. Already he has so many things he wants to wring out of the soon to be mafia boss, and he finds he has to restrain himself from pressing a gun to the kid’s temple, if only to get that delightful fearful face.
Instead, he throws Leon in his lizard form at Tsunayoshi's face and listens to him scream. “Don't be so quick to disregard others, Dame-Tsuna.” The hitman spies the boy flinching at the nickname, turning to Nana he continues, “In fact, I was recommended to come here by your husband, Iemitsu.”
With his focus on the delicate woman’s reaction, he had failed to spy his student's shoulders tensing and looking at his mother in something shocked. Nana gasped, clapping her hands together in delight. She started babbling happily, talking about how wonderful it is that he had thought of such a thing, and how they should write him a letter to thank him, right Tsu-kun?
“...right.” Is all her son had replied, he didn't seem all that pleased to hear his father's name. And honestly, it's all Reborn needs to know that Iemitsu isn't that good of a father as he makes himself to be. Tsunayoshi darted his eyes across the room, having thrown Leon off his body and was now standing hunched in the genkan, he cut his mother's talking short. “Well, mom I'll probably head out now. I don't want to be late today.” He shuddered as if imagining something off-putting.
It's obvious he had been looking for a way to escape the conversation, and possibly Reborn himself. So he tapped his shoes on and kissed his mother goodbye, holding a bento box too large for one person in one hand as he stepped into the street.
Unfortunately for Tsunayoshi, Reborn followed suit right behind him.
Reborn doesn't often make mistakes in his life. He was his own standard of perfection, mistakes couldn't be tolerated in his line of profession.
That being said, he can't really be blamed for his primal instincts of shooting things to solve a problem.
Damn him, okay? It worked well with Dino.
The hitman would later regret such an instinct when he unintentionally fired a Dying Will Bullet between Tsunayoshi's eyes, but the arrow had left the bow— or rather, the bullet had left the gun and he couldn't do anything but watch the fireworks.
It started with him casually walking behind Tsunayoshi on his way to school, the kid was muttering to himself again, when they were surprised by two school girls on their way as well.
“How cute!” One of them squealed, Sasagawa Kyoko if he remembered, was a classmate of his student, she stood at the same height as Tsunayoshi, with light brown hair and soft features. Next to her was a taller girl with long black hair and a resting-bitch-face, Kurokawa Hana.
“Is he your little brother, Tsuna-kun?” She had asked, kneeling to Reborn's level and greeting him, at the corner of Reborn's eye he could see the Kurokawa girl shoot his student a questioning look, hand tightening around her crossed arms.
Tsunayoshi's eye twitched minutely, how curious. “N-no, he's…” the boy paused, unsure of how to answer. Reborn disliked that level of hesitation, and answered in his stead, “I’m Reborn, Dame-Tsuna's new tutor.”
Strangely enough, this spurs an odd reaction from both girls. They both stand to their full height and look disturbed, more especially the Sasagawa girl in front of him, who tilted her head and frowned at Tsuna.
“A tutor?” The Kurokawa girl said skeptically, “I haven't heard of a new tutor going around Namimori.”
Dame-Tsuna sighed under his breath before he spoke, “He came from outside. Apparently my dad called him over.”
“An outsider?” The Sasagawa girl seemed surprised over that tidbit, her eyes widening. The other girl however, had only deigned to furrow her brows deeper. Nevertheless, the brown-haired girl seemed to get over it and smiled at Reborn, “It's honestly rare to get visitors like this! Welcome to Namimori, Reborn-kun.”
The hitman smirked and tipped his hat in gratitude, he wondered about that, Reborn was brought back to his first entry, with children watching him like hawks as he walked the streets, teen delinquents shadowing his every move. At that moment he didn't feel particularly welcomed.
Watching the black-haired teen and his student to the side, he can tell he wasn't welcomed by them either.
“I appreciate it.” He replied to her, “This town seems to have a lot to offer, I hope I'll enjoy my stay here.”
The Kurokawa girl scoffs, looking like she wanted to say something. But they didn't have the luxury, as a shout was heard from the other side of the road. A taller black-haired teen was seen coming their way, getting the girls’ and his student's attention.
“Kyoko-chan!”
The hitman observed the group, the girl in question wore her smile strained, her friend clicked her tongue and groaned, and his student appeared to be wildly uncomfortable at the other boy's presence.
Kurokawa sighs, “C'mon, Kyoko. Let's go before he annoys us more.”
“Well…” The girl faded off before turning to Tsunayoshi, “We'll see you later, okay Tsuna-kun?”
“Yeah.”
And well, with an opportunity to know more about his student, why wouldn't he take the chance?
“Do you like her?” Of course, he wasn't going to do it in any other way but his.
Dame-Tsuna spluttered, looking at Reborn like he had said something insane. The boy then started to trot away, denying any claims that Reborn threw at him.
“Then, the taller one?” This time he was greeting with a pale face and far louder, earsplitting shriek, joy.
“No way in hell!” Dame-Tsuna cried, “D-don't even joke about that, please.”
“Why not?” A smirk found its way to his lips, “There's no shame in liking someone, Dame-Tsuna. I happen to be an open-minded person. So even if you liked those girls or that boy, the only thing pathetic about liking someone is not having the courage to confess to them.”
The boy sighed, looking properly exhausted so early in the morning. “I think I'll die sooner than I'll gain any courage.” Maybe when he spoke those words then he had meant in the general admission of his life, such would be the wishes of a loser and all, but at that moment Reborn saw an opening he took before he could think about it.
“Then die.” A click of his Leon-shaped gun, and he realized his mistake.
Shit. That. Was not supposed to happen.
But that deep annoyance and shame had morphed into shock— and maybe he finally acknowledged a sense of wrongness, when Tsunayoshi, in all his naked Dying Will Mode glory yelled at the top of his lungs.
“ SAVE KYOKO-CHAN WITH MY DYING WILL !!”
He then ran off the other way, away from the girls and the school.
And for the second time in his life Reborn had been caught off guard.
Save?