Tsuna lay there for a moment after Kawahira left, blanketed in warmth and mortification. Then he moved. However, the moment he stood up, he felt it—something tacky and dried between his thighs, clinging uncomfortably to his skin and the fabric of his pajama pants. It only took a second for the realization to hit.
It was Slick.
He'd read about it in the book Kawahira gave him. A natural omega response during heats—his body's way of preparing for… things that didn't happen.
His face flushed so hard it prickled.
"Nope. Nope, nope, nope," he muttered, bolting from the bed and jogging to the other bathroom, ignoring the way each step made the sticky sensation worse. He preffered a shower than a relaxing bath, anyway. Let Kawahira get the bath, he deserved it for putting with him anyway.
The door to the small bathroom clicked shut behind him.
Inside the shower, the first thing he did was peel off his clothes, tossing them as far away as he could. He stepped under the spray, turning the water colder than usual, trying to chase away the heat in his cheeks with something sharper.
It didn't work.
As he scrubbed his skin—neck, thighs, everywhere—his thoughts returned to the last few days. It had been a blur: flashes of heat, scent, need, comfort. And Kawahira, always there, calm and quiet, never overstepping.
He remembered clutching at him, whining, nuzzling, even—gods—licking and biting him.
Tsuna pressed a wet hand to his face.
But what stayed with him the most wasn't what he had done. It was what Kawahira hadn't. Because no matter how far Tsuna had pushed—how desperate, how close—Kawahira had never taken advantage. His presence had been firm and grounding, a rock amidst the firestorm.
Still… Tsuna remembered waking this morning to the soft rasp of breath, to lips brushing his skin, to the sensation of teeth and tongue against his gland. He hadn't been in heat anymore, but the reaction had been instant. He'd melted into it without thought.
And—he was almost certain—he'd smelled something faint in the air that had become familiar in these last few days, but not in his scent. It was in the sandalwood and old paper scent from Kawahira. It was faint, but he was pretty sure there were hints of the undeniable sharpness of arousal in the Earthling's scent.
His face burned hotter than the water ever could.
He finished showering in a daze, drying himself mechanically and tugging on clean clothes. A loose shirt. Comfy pants. Something soft enough that didn't cling.
He looked at his reflection in the mirror and almost winced. He was flushed and looked unsettled, but he felt… oddly calm.
He exhaled and combed his fingers through his hair, fluffing it into some semblance of order before stepping out.
Time to eat.
He made his way downstairs, the scent of miso and tea drawing him toward the familiar. Toward Kawahira.
Tsuna took a breath and stepped into the kitchen. When he stepped inside, the scent of food hit him first—miso, rice, and something subtly herbal wafting from a steaming teapot. It grounded him, familiar and soothing, enough to steady the fluttering in his chest.
Kawahira was at the counter, plating grilled fish with quiet efficiency. His yukata was gone, replaced with a plain, dark long-sleeved shirt and trousers. His hair was still damp, tied loosely at the base of his neck, and he moved with the calm rhythm of someone who had already ordered the day in his head.
He looked over his shoulder when Tsuna entered. "You're late. I thought you might have drowned in the shower."
"I—was scrubbing off three days of shame," Tsuna muttered, slipping into his usual seat.
Kawahira snorted softly. "Then you should've taken longer."
That earned a flustered glare from Tsuna, but the older man only poured tea into a cup and slid it across the table toward him with practiced grace. He placed the tray of food down between them before sitting opposite.
They ate in silence at first, save for the gentle clinks of chopsticks and ceramic.
Tsuna tried not to think about how their mingled scent was still faintly clinging to the air. Or the way the sunlight made Kawahira's eyes look warm and old and steady. Or how his own heart fluttered when their knees brushed under the low table.
He finally broke the silence. "You look tired."
Kawahira didn't respond at first. Just took a sip of tea.
"Couldn't sleep much," he finally said. "As I said, your flames were unruly. If I dropped my guard, we might've harmonized."
Tsuna looked down, fingers tightening around his chopsticks. "Sorry."
"You already apologized."
"I meant it."
Kawahira sighed. "You always mean it. That's the problem."
Tsuna flushed, cheeks puffing with barely concealed frustration. "It's not like I wanted to crawl all over you for three days!"
"Your body wanted comfort. I provided it. That's all."
Tsuna looked up, eyes slightly wide. "Just like that?"
Kawahira blinked, as if confused by the question. "You think I'd hold it against you?"
"No. I just… you didn't have to stay. But you did."
Kawahira shrugged a shoulder. "You asked."
He said it like it was that simple.
Tsuna's heart did something uncomfortable and soft at the sincere words.
They fell into quiet again, more comfortable this time. Tsuna found himself chewing slower, savoring the warmth of the food, the stillness of the kitchen, the peace. Every once in a while, he caught Kawahira glancing at him—not with judgment, not with amusement. Just watching.
When they finished, Kawahira stood and took the dishes to the sink. Tsuna moved to help, but a hand waved him off.
"You're still recovering. Rest a bit longer. I'll handle this."
Tsuna hesitated, then nodded, standing anyway to refill his tea.
As he sipped, he quietly asked, "Did you… really mean it? What you said earlier?"
Kawahira looked over his shoulder.
"About your scent? I wouldn't lie about that," he said simply. "It's strong. Comforting. A little distracting, but… not unpleasant."
Tsuna looked away quickly, ears red.
"I see," he muttered into his cup and the silence that followed was content. For the first time since his heat began, Tsuna didn't feel ashamed. Just a little warm and a little hopeful.
A little more like himself.
.
Tsuna sat back with a content sigh, tea warm in his hands, and finally picked up his phone. He hadn't checked it properly in days—not during the haze of his heat, not when every ping of notification had been drowned out by his body's overwhelming need.
There were several missed messages from Yuni, a few from unrecognized numbers he assumed were acquaintances from the ramen shop's previous locations… and one from Byakuran.
Byakuran: Yun-Yun said I can visit! I'll be there in two days for lunch to hers so we can play~ Don't forget me, Tsu-chan!
Tsuna blinked. The message was dated two days ago.
His brain slowly caught up with the implications.
That meant today.
He bolted upright, nearly sloshing his tea onto his lap. "Kawahira!"
The man turned calmly from where he was drying dishes at the sink, raising an eyebrow. "I got a message from Byakuran! He's coming to Yuni's today for lunch!"
Kawahira paused, blinking slowly. "And?"
"And—what time is it in Naples right now?"
Kawahira tilted his head slightly, considering. "Eleven a.m."
"Eleven?" Tsuna's voice cracked. "He's probably already there. We need to—!"
"We're already in Naples."
Tsuna froze mid-panic, one socked foot hovering off the floor. "...What?"
Kawahira nodded toward the nearest window. "We arrived while you were finishing your tea."
Tsuna turned, eyes widening as he noticed the sunlight had shifted—warmer, brighter than it had been only minutes ago. He hadn't even noticed. No swirling Mist flames, no sense of displacement. Just… a change in warmth.
He exhaled in awe. "You could give illusions a complex with that kind of subtlety."
Kawahira smirked faintly. "It's not subtle if you're paying attention."
Tsuna ignored that and grabbed his phone to call Byakuran.
The line barely rang before it was picked up with a cheerful, "Tsuna-chan~! You're alive! I was starting to think I'd have to bribe Yuni for your location."
"I was alive," Tsuna muttered, rubbing his forehead. "You didn't say what day."
"I said in two days," Byakuran chirped. "And guess what? It's been two days! Yuni picked me up about twenty minutes ago. She's giving me the full Sky Princess escort service. We'll be at hers in half an hour!"
"Okay, good," Tsuna said, sagging in relief. "I'm in Italy. Naples. In her territory."
"Oh?" There was a curious lilt in Byakuran's voice. "Then we will come to you. See you soon~ Don't hide when I arrive."
Tsuna hung up before Byakuran could start suggesting outfit themes. He lowered the phone and saw Kawahira watching him with faint amusement. "Half an hour?"
"Yeah. I should—uh—probably change."
Kawahira's gaze dropped pointedly to his clean but definitely still pajama-clad form. "A wise decision."
Tsuna flushed and practically tripped over his chair in his rush to the stairs.
"I'll try to look presentable!" he called behind him. "But I'm not putting on a suit!"
"You're barely wearing pants. Let's start there."
.
Tsuna had just finished pulling on a sweater—a soft, sky-bluea and the least wrinkle-prone thing he owned—when he heard voices downstairs.
Byakuran's voice.
Already?
He rushed toward the stairs, only barely managing to avoid tripping over himself. As he descended, he saw the familiar white hair immediately—Byakuran, animatedly chatting beside Yuni, both of them standing near the ramen bar where Kawahira sat sipping his tea like nothing in the world surprised him. Gamma stood stiffly behind Yuni, gaze sharp but resigned.
Byakuran's head snapped up as Tsuna reached the bottom step, and that bright, unbothered smile of his widened. "Tsu-chan~!"
Yuni's eyes lit up as well. "There you are!"
Tsuna opened his mouth to greet them when Byakuran stepped closer. Then paused, tilted his head and sniffed.
Tsuna blinked. "Uh—?"
Byakuran leaned in even further, narrowing his eyes as he sniffed a little more dramatically. "Wait. Wait. Did you just—did you have your heat?"
Tsuna froze.
Oh no.
The patch. He had forgotten to apply a new one after showering.
Byakuran, now all but breathing him in, frowned playfully. "There's another scent. Not yours. Who—?"
Before Tsuna could sputter a response, a pair of clean chopsticks tapped the middle of Byakuran's forehead.
"Give him space," Kawahira said coolly, still seated with his tea.
Byakuran blinked, momentarily startled. Then he looked from Kawahira's bland expression to Tsuna's bright red face and back again. His smile turned wicked.
"Oho~ That's why you didn't answer my texts. Did you enjoy your heat, Tsu-chan~?"
He winked.
Tsuna flailed. "W-we didn't do anything! Kawahira just—just helped me through it. He gave me food and water and stayed so I wouldn't be alone!"
Byakuran gave a long, exaggerated "Hmmmm," his grin never fading. With that expression he looked much younger than Tsuna, even if in reality he was a year older and taller than him.
Kawahira let out a long-suffering sigh. "Stop being obnoxious," he said, rising to pat Tsuna gently on the head. "And stop teasing him. He just finished recovering."
Tsuna ducked his head, ears burning. Kawahira's hand stayed a moment longer than necessary, grounding him.
Yuni giggled behind her hand. Even Gamma looked mildly amused, if deeply resigned.
"Fiiiine," Byakuran sang, swaying back a step. "I'll behave. For now. But you'll have to tell me everything over lunch~"
"Absolutely not," Tsuna muttered under his breath.
Byakuran just smiled wider.
.
Lunch was a mix of familiar flavors and quiet urgency. Kawahira had retreated to the kitchen, leaving steaming bowls of clear broth with crisp vegetables and delicate slices of meat, while Yuni and Byakuran sat flanking Tsuna at the bar, Gamma hovering nearby like a silent guardian.
The teasing had faded. Mostly. Now, Tsuna leaned forward slightly, the faint heat of the soup grounding him.
"Can you contact the others?" he asked Yuni softly. "The… original group?"
Yuni nodded, fingers laced neatly in her lap. "I can. I'll say it's important. Urgent. They'll understand."
"How long do you think—?"
"A couple of weeks," she answered. "Maybe a little more for some. Verde will be the most difficult to reach, but Fon, Reborn, and the others will come. They always do."
Tsuna then turned to Byakuran as he slurped his noodles without shame. "I can get in touch with your Byakuran, if that's what you're wondering," he said, glancing at Tsuna with a knowing sparkle in his eye. "He's… curious, let's say, of how you're doing. He'll ask his Talbot about the jars."
Tsuna nodded in thanks. "That would help. Talbot here might be able to recreate them faster with a blueprint—or at least something more than the vague description I can give."
"Mmm." Byakuran wiped his mouth, his playfulness now sheathed beneath a sharper edge. "And once he has the specs, he'll pass them on through me and I'll give them to Yuni who will pass them to Reborn since he's still working with Ieyasu. It'll be easy to bring Talbot into the loop."
"And after that," Yuni added, voice even softer than before, "once we have something viable ready… we can reach out to them. The ones who enforce balance."
She didn't say the name. No one did. But Tsuna understood.
The Vindice.
Gamma's eyes narrowed slightly, but he said nothing.
Kawahira returned then, quietly setting down more tea. He didn't speak, but the warmth in his presence made the silence feel less strained.
Tsuna rubbed his hands together for a moment before glancing at the others. "It has to be airtight. If we go to them without proof the system can work, they won't just say no. They might take it as rebellion."
"Which is why we need to act like it's… innovation," Byakuran chimed. "Not defiance."
Yuni nodded solemnly. "The words we use will matter just as much as the science."
Byakuran chuckled. "Good thing I'm good at bulshitting."
Tsuna gave him a flat look.
They ate in near-silence for a few minutes after that, the plans circling between them in quiet understanding. It was the first real move in a game far older than any of them.
.
.
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