KHR: Decimo Primo

The air inside the car was stifling, tension gripping the three children as the ominous black cars surrounded them. Tsuna's hands trembled, clutching the fire extinguisher he'd yanked from beneath the seat. His mind raced, every nerve in his body screaming at him to do something.

The car skidded to a halt, boxed in on all sides. The driver, now pale and shaking, turned to the trio. "Stay inside," he urged before stepping out.

The moment he opened his door, he was yanked out by a large man in a black suit. The kidnappers wasted no time, moving in unison to surround the car.

"Tsuna, what's happening?!" Hayato whimpered, his voice cracking.

"We're being attacked," Tsuna said, his voice quivering despite his best efforts to sound calm. He glanced at Bianchi, who had already armed herself with a jagged piece of broken glass.

The first man wrenched the car door open, a menacing sneer on his face. "Come on, kids. Don't make this hard for yourselves."

A strange sensation washed over Tsuna—a sharp clarity cutting through his panic. He felt a faint warmth in his chest as a small flicker of orange flames formed at the tips of his fingers. He didn't have time to think about where it came from; his body simply moved.

"Stay back!" Tsuna shouted, raising his hand.

The small, controlled burst of Dying Will Flames illuminated the interior of the car. The kidnapper recoiled, startled by the sudden heat and light.

Taking advantage of the moment, Tsuna swung the fire extinguisher at the man's arm, knocking it away from the door. The man stumbled back with a curse, clutching his wrist.

"Stay behind me!" Tsuna ordered, his voice steadier than he felt.

Another man lunged for the door, and Tsuna instinctively raised his hand again, releasing another burst of flames. It wasn't strong, but it was enough to force the man to hesitate. Tsuna followed up with a quick jab of the extinguisher, sending him sprawling.

Bianchi stared at him, wide-eyed. "How did you—"

"I don't know!" Tsuna admitted, his voice high-pitched with nerves.

More figures approached from both sides of the car. Tsuna felt the faint warmth in his chest intensify, a sharp, almost instinctive feeling guiding him. It wasn't conscious thought but rather a deep, inexplicable sense of what to do next.

"Duck!" he shouted, and Hayato and Bianchi obeyed just as another man swung a baton toward the window. The glass shattered, but none of the shards hit them.

Tsuna darted out of the car, the flickering flames in his hands providing just enough illumination to disorient the kidnappers. He picked up a crowbar from the ground and used it to block an incoming attack.

The heat from the flames spread along the crowbar, forcing the man to release it with a yelp. Tsuna swung the heated metal, catching another attacker in the leg.

Hayato watched in stunned silence, clutching the edge of the seat. "Tsuna... you're incredible!"

Another man tried to grab Tsuna from behind, but a sudden flash of intuition warned him. He spun around just in time, using the crowbar to parry the attack. His movements were far sharper than anything he'd achieved in training, as though something deep within him had awakened.

"Bianchi, watch out!" he called, seeing a man aiming for her. She reacted quickly, slashing at the attacker with her makeshift weapon.

Despite their efforts, the kidnappers' sheer numbers began to overwhelm them. One man managed to grab Hayato by the arm, yanking him out of the car.

"No!" Tsuna shouted, rushing toward them. A controlled flame surged from his hand, and he thrust it forward. The heat startled the man enough for Hayato to pull away and scramble back.

"Stay back!" Tsuna said, positioning himself between Hayato and the kidnappers.

The leader of the group stepped forward, pulling out a gun. "Enough of this. Surrender, or I shoot."

Bianchi froze, her weapon clattering to the ground. Hayato clutched Tsuna's sleeve, trembling.

Tsuna's flames dimmed slightly as doubt crept in. He wasn't sure what to do next, but he couldn't let them take Hayato or Bianchi.

The man smirked, raising the gun. "Last chance—"

A deafening crack of gunfire rang out, cutting the man off mid-sentence. He dropped his weapon, clutching his hand and screaming in pain.

From the distance, another car screeched to a halt. Armed men poured out, their weapons trained on the kidnappers.

"Looks like we're just in time," a familiar voice said.

Tsuna turned, relief flooding through him as Iemitsu stepped out of the car, his usual goofy demeanor replaced by a cold, calculating expression.

"Dad..."

Iemitsu smiled grimly. "Good job holding out, Tsuna. But let me take it from here."

The kidnappers, now clearly outnumbered and outmatched, scrambled back into their cars and sped away.

As the chaos subsided, Tsuna slumped against the car, the flames in his hands flickering out. He was exhausted, but the sight of Hayato and Bianchi, both safe, filled him with a strange sense of pride.

"You did well, son," Iemitsu said, ruffling Tsuna's hair. "I'm impressed."

Tsuna managed a weak smile. "Thanks... I think."

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The air felt heavy as the chaos settled. The leader of the kidnappers clutched his injured hand, his gun clattering to the ground. His men looked visibly shaken as Iemitsu and his armed team stood between them and the children.

Iemitsu adjusted his tie, his carefree demeanor replaced with steely resolve. "Well, gentlemen, I believe you've overstayed your welcome."

The kidnappers hesitated, exchanging nervous glances. With no escape route and clearly outmatched, they scrambled back into their cars. Tires screeched as the black vehicles sped off into the distance.

The tension in Tsuna's shoulders eased slightly, but his exhaustion was palpable. He leaned against the car, his breaths shallow and rapid. The flames on his hands flickered weakly before dissipating entirely.

Iemitsu strode toward him, his expression softening into something closer to his usual self. "You did great, Tsuna. Really, I'm proud of you." He ruffled Tsuna's hair, though there was a flicker of something deeper in his eyes—concern and perhaps admiration.

"Dad…" Tsuna murmured, his voice hoarse.

Before he could continue, a shadow flickered from above. Reborn landed gracefully on the roof of the car, his small frame imposing as always. "Good work, Dame-Tsuna," he said, tipping his fedora. "You handled yourself better than expected."

"Reborn?! You were here the whole time?!" Tsuna gaped, his exhaustion momentarily forgotten.

Reborn smirked. "Of course. I needed to see how you'd fare. Consider this a test, and you passed—barely."

Tsuna groaned, his frustration bubbling to the surface. "Barely? I almost got us all kidnapped!"

"But you didn't," Reborn pointed out. "You protected Hayato and Bianchi and used the skills you've learned. That's no small feat, Tsuna. Your Vongola blood is starting to awaken."

Tsuna blinked, the weight of Reborn's words sinking in. "My… Vongola blood?"

Reborn gave him a rare approving nod. "You acted on instinct, something only those with true intuition can do. It's a hallmark of the Vongola."

Iemitsu crossed his arms, watching his son with a proud smile. "You'll understand more as you grow, Tsuna. For now, just know that you've got potential—more than you realize."

Tsuna wanted to protest, to downplay his actions, but Hayato's voice cut through his thoughts.

"That was so cool!" Hayato exclaimed, his green eyes wide with admiration. "The flames, the way you fought… You were like a real mafia member!"

Tsuna blinked at him in surprise. "I-I wasn't trying to be cool. I just… didn't want you to get hurt."

Hayato grinned, his earlier fear seemingly forgotten. "Still, it was amazing. Maybe being in the mafia isn't so bad…" His voice trailed off as he glanced at Bianchi, his expression shifting to one of nervousness.

Bianchi, who had been quiet since the end of the skirmish, placed a hand on her hip. "Hmph. Don't get carried away, Hayato. You were trembling the whole time."

Hayato's face flushed. "I-I was not! I was just… caught off guard, that's all."

Reborn chuckled, leaping onto Iemitsu's shoulder. "You'll have time to sort that out later. For now, the recital venue is waiting."

Iemitsu nodded, gesturing to his men to clean up the scene. "We'll take these thugs for questioning. Tsuna, you three go ahead. I'll handle things here."

Tsuna hesitated, glancing at the wreckage around them. "Are you sure, Dad?"

"Positive," Iemitsu said with a wink. "You've already done the hard part."

The driver, having regained his composure, opened the car door. "It's safe to proceed now, young masters and miss."

As the car resumed its journey, Tsuna slumped into his seat, the adrenaline finally wearing off. Hayato and Bianchi exchanged a glance, neither saying much, but the atmosphere was lighter than before.

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The car finally pulled up to the grand recital venue, a towering building with gilded doors and elegant archways. The tension from the earlier ordeal seemed like a distant memory as they stepped out into the warm evening air.

Hayato adjusted his shirt nervously, his fingers twitching. "I need to practice," he mumbled, barely sparing Tsuna and Bianchi a glance before darting inside.

Bianchi sighed, watching him go. "He always gets like this before a performance. He acts tough, but he's a bundle of nerves."

Tsuna nodded absentmindedly, his nerves settling now that the immediate danger had passed. As Bianchi walked ahead, leading him toward the waiting area, his stomach gave an audible growl.

"Oh, are you hungry?" Bianchi asked, turning to him with a smile that somehow sent a chill down his spine.

"Uh, no, I'm good—" Tsuna began, but Bianchi had already pulled a container from her bag.

"I made something special for the trip. It's Hayato's favorite!" she said, opening the lid to reveal… something.

Tsuna froze, his face paling as he took in the sight. The "dish" was a strange shade of greenish-purple, with an ominous bubbling texture and what looked like whole chilies sticking out at odd angles.

"T-T-That's Hayato's favorite?" he stammered, his mind racing. How was Hayato even alive if he ate things like this regularly?

Bianchi nodded proudly. "He's always so happy when I make it for him. He says it gives him strength for his music."

Tsuna smiled weakly, though it felt more like a grimace. "That's… great. Great."

Bianchi held out a fork. "You should try some. You're probably exhausted after everything."

Tsuna waved his hands frantically. "Oh, no, I couldn't possibly—uh, I mean, it wouldn't be fair to Hayato! He'd probably want it all to himself, right?"

Bianchi's eyes softened. "You're thoughtful, Tsuna. That's nice of you."

He forced a laugh, silently thanking whatever force of nature spared him from trying the "dish."

With Hayato busy preparing and Bianchi keeping an eye on the venue staff, Tsuna found himself with some downtime. He pulled out his phone and scrolled through his contacts. His options were limited. Most of the people he'd call friends were back in Japan, and he didn't want to bother them with his troubles. Still, the need to hear a familiar voice was strong.

He decided to call Yamamoto. The phone rang a few times before the cheerful voice of his classmate answered. "Yo, Tsuna! How's Italy treating you?"

"Uh, it's… been an adventure," Tsuna said, scratching his head. He didn't want to worry his friend with the details. "What about you? How's baseball practice?"

"Same old, same old," Yamamoto said with a laugh. "But hey, you're in Italy! You better be eating all the pizza you can get your hands on."

Tsuna chuckled nervously. "Yeah, about that…" He glanced at Bianchi, who was carefully repacking her container of questionable food.

They chatted for a while, Yamamoto's easygoing nature helping Tsuna unwind. After hanging up, Tsuna considered calling someone else but decided against it. For now, it was better to conserve his energy and focus on the mission.

His thoughts were interrupted when Hayato emerged from the practice room, looking slightly less jittery than before. "It's time," he announced, his voice steadier now.

Bianchi clapped her hands. "That's my little brother! You're going to wow them, Hayato."

Tsuna followed them to the performance hall, feeling an odd mix of pride and relief. For now, things were calm. Watching Hayato step onto the stage, Tsuna couldn't help but think: Maybe this mafia business wasn't always so bad.

The performance began with a dramatic flourish. Hayato's fingers danced across the keys, the music pouring from the grand piano with a fierce, chaotic energy. At first, Tsuna thought it was just nerves, but as the performance continued, it became clear that something was… off.

Hayato's movements were erratic, his body swaying with an intensity that bordered on surreal. The music itself veered wildly between haunting melodies and jarring dissonance, creating an abstract, almost otherworldly soundscape. Tsuna's jaw dropped as he watched. Was this what classical music was supposed to be like?

To his shock, the audience seemed captivated. Whispers of admiration filled the room, and by the time Hayato struck the final, thunderous chord, the crowd erupted into applause.

Tsuna's confusion deepened when he overheard Bianchi murmuring to herself, "He must have really loved the meal I made him earlier."

It clicked. The "food" she'd given Hayato had done something to him—something that turned his performance into this bizarre spectacle. Tsuna buried his face in his hands. Poor Hayato.

After the applause died down and Hayato took his bow, Tsuna excused himself from the stifling atmosphere of the recital hall. The noble setting, with its crystal chandeliers and murmurs of high-society conversation, felt suffocating.

He wandered out into the garden, the cool night air a welcome contrast. The stars above twinkled brightly and the soft rustling of leaves was calming. Tsuna found a bench and sat down, letting the tension seep from his body.

"Not bad, Dame-Tsuna," came a familiar voice.

Tsuna jumped, looking up to see Reborn perched on the armrest of the bench, his fedora tilted at a jaunty angle.

"Reborn! Do you always have to sneak up on me?" Tsuna exclaimed, clutching his chest.

Reborn smirked. "You should be more aware of your surroundings. Especially after what happened earlier."

Tsuna sighed, slumping back against the bench. "What are you doing here?"

"Just checking in," Reborn said casually. "The situation with Iemitsu is wrapped up. The culprits have been caught."

Tsuna sat up straighter. "Really? Who were they?"

"A small-time gang trying to make a name for themselves by targeting Vongola interests," Reborn explained. "Nothing you need to worry about. You handled your part well."

Tsuna frowned. "Handled it well? I almost got everyone hurt."

Reborn's gaze was steady. "And yet, you didn't. You're starting to show signs of being a real leader, Tsuna."

The words made Tsuna's chest tighten. He wasn't sure if he believed Reborn, but hearing it still stirred something inside him.

"For now, enjoy the peace," Reborn said, hopping off the bench. "You've earned it."

As Reborn disappeared back into the shadows, Tsuna leaned back and gazed at the stars. The night was quiet, and for the first time in a while, he allowed himself to relax. Whatever came next, he'd face it one step at a time.