#sings pre-parade at the top of my lungs

[riumeri]

05. the palmtop tiger (only 4′8″ tall)

#taiga aisaka #toradora #huevember #huevember 2022 #sings pre-parade at the top of my lungs

[littlelonghairedoutlawllho]

Because of @dying-suffering-french-stalkers @fadesinthelight and @rienerose I wrote a second Wraiths ficlet tonight about the boys. This one is pre-Wraiths by a few months, and is again unedited and written on my phone so it might have typos and weird words because I am far too tired to check.

_______________________________

“Two letters for you, sir.” Dupuis’ voice is soft, and out of the side of his eye Konstin sees him sort through the bundle on the table, dividing them into piles. “Make that three.”

Konstin fights to suppress a smile as he wipes off the last of the shaving cream. Letters are better than telegrams and memoes, less likely to be orders of some sort and infinitely more likely to have something from Antoine.

Antoine. There hasn’t been a word from him in the last three days and Konstin has tried to put it down to general busy-ness, but still anxiety flickers in his heart. Antoine’s still behind the lines or should be, he’s supposed to be safe, there’s no need for the sudden tightness in Konstin’s throat but it’s there anyway, clawing at him whispering that just because Antoine should be safe it doesn’t mean he is safe and any variety of things can have changed. There could be word of a coming advance for Christ’s sake! Antoine could be in a hundred different shades of danger for all he knows!

Squeal of a shell overhead and he instinctively flinches, his train of thought cut off, though the crash is far off, somewhere else. He shakes himself as he fixes his collar.

It is not Antoine in the front line just now.

He swallows, and composes himself, turns around to face the table.

Dupuis has a letter laid out in front of him, and he nods towards the coffeepot without looking up. “It’s still warm.”

“And how are the men?” Always a dangerous question, and Konstin keeps his face impassive as he asks. But Dupuis is used to his asking by now, and makes a noncommittal sound.

“Much the same.” A beat, filled only with the faint thundering of distant artillery, muffled by the clay of the dugout walls. “Henri is troubled about the rum ration. He suspects it’s somewhat lower than it ought to be.”

Possibly just a miscalculation, but they still have four days scheduled up here. It would not do to run out of rum. “Look into it, won’t you?”

“Of course.”

The coffee is only moderately warm, not enough to give him the kick he needs to get him into the morning. He reaches into his pocket and finds a stray cigarette, and by the time it has reached his lips, Dupuis is passing him a match. He accepts it, and withdraws his cigarette case, takes one out and lights it as well as his own, passes it over to Dupuis.

All part of the morning ritual.

His eyes flutter closed as he inhaled deeply, the smoke drifting down, down into his lungs, flowing through his windpipe and bronchi, webbing out and out into each space. A sketch in one of his father’s books comes to him, a set of lungs and all the blood vessels and alveoli webbing out like the branches and leaves on a tiny tree. A beautifully inked piece of art, and somewhere inside of him at this very moment, smoke is winding through that scene.

(Nadir told him, once, long ago, about his father giving up smoking opium out of a fear that it would damage his voice, and Konstin can sympathize but smoking cigarettes is hardly the worst thing that can happen to his lungs now.)

He sighs and opens his eyes, and finally looks to the little bundle of letters before him, that Dupuis has so carefully set aside. On top is one from his mother, her writing a sweet echo from home that makes his throat tighten. It’s only a few weeks since he left her, since it was Émile’s birthday, and he hugged his little brother before he had to go, and tried not to let him see him cry. He traces his fingers lightly over his name, written in that so familiar hand that he would know anywhere, even in the darkest night, and carefully lifts the letter to see the one underneath.

Marguerite. She has a distinct way of curling the D of his surname, a certain defiant elegance that is so classically her that he can’t help but smile to see it. He always intends to make a trip to the château-cum-hospital where he’s stationed, but between parades and official functions and letter writing and inspections he never seems to have the time when he’s out of the lines, and it’s all he can do sometimes just to make arrangements to take tea with Antoine. Next time, maybe, he might get to fit it in. Or the time after that. It might give the men heart if he came calling on them.

And he sets Marguerite’s letter aside to read later, so he has some new reading material in the wait for the next strafe.

And then there it is. The familiar writing he has dreamt of. The distinct emphasis on the K as if it is scored a little deeper, the flourish on his rank. Antoine. A magical, blessed, sacred letter from Antoine.

He draws a shuddering breath, tries not to see Dupuis’ glance of concern, and then with careful fingers picks up the letter and opens it.

Still alive. Still safe. And he is too relieved to be truly able to take in any words, to truly appreciate that here is a letter from Antoine, here is a sheet of paper he touched, here are the words that sprung forth from his mind for Konstin’s eyes and Konstin’s eyes only, everything considered in his careful way so that they fit perfectly together.

If it were not for the fact of Dupuis, if it were not for the fact that anyone could walk in and see him, he would kiss the page these words are written on, as if somehow Antoine might be able to feel it. But he can only hold it with all the gentleness he possesses, and pray that that will be enough.

It is the words at the bottom that catch his eye, the lines written in Russian. Antoine’s Russian was always a treat, the hushed way it drifts off his tongue, and reading the words there it is as if he might be here, whispering low in Konstin’s ear.

I love you dearly, always, with all my heart, and every night I dream of when your fingers will comb through my hair again, and when your lips will press lightly to mine, and when you will sing softly in my ear a song you have written wholly. They are only dreams, now, but soon, I pray, they will be reality. Go well, my love.

He is powerless to stop the tears that spring to his eyes, and he blinks them back hard as he swallows, and folds the letter again, settling it safely inside his cigarette case. Later he will savior every word of it, will read it and read it until the paper threatens to come apart at the crease and the words are embedded in his very soul, but for now he can only swallow, and smooth his fingers over the paper, before he carefully closes the case and slips it carefully under his uniform, right next to his heart.

(And somewhere behind the lines, Antoine is doing the same, in the privacy of his office, is kissing the paper filled with Konstin’s angled script, and folding it carefully, infinitely carefully, so that it may live in a cigarette case pressed to his skin. It is the closest thing they have to touching now, and for the moment it will have to do.)

Dupuis raises his eyebrows as he looks up at Konstin, and Konstin musters a smile for him, and prays his façade will not give him away.

“All is well.” And the lie is only half a lie, and well is never enough, for now he will cling to it and all that it promises, and hope that someday soon the Russian will truly be a voice in his ear, and not merely a memory.

#wraiths of wandering #ficlet #my soul is cleansed and i can finally rest

[girlsbtrs]

My Ladybird Moment (Significant Songs in Life)

Written by Mary Ragheb. Graphic by James N. Grey. 

(First of all I wanna give the credit for this title to Pablo, that was all their idea and honestly it works perfectly.)

I know I’m not alone when I say that music has carried me through my whole life - whether that was me singing along with the Jonas Brothers in my best friend’s bedroom in elementary school or staring up at the ceiling blasting My Chemical Romance through my headphones in true emo-kid fashion. But I have always had a weird sensitivity to sound. It could be the ADHD talking but hear me out. Songs for me are ultimately almost always attached to some specific memory or feeling, so much so that I don’t think there’s an album in existence that I haven’t cried to at least once. 

So I guess this is my ladybird moment/a playlist of my life???? 

Let’s start with artists and then we’ll get into songs. This is important because I’m starting with literal baby steps here. 

Firstly, there’s Umm Kulthum, one of the most decorated and well-known Egyptian singers ever. I spent much of my childhood listening to her sing on cassettes that my parents brought back from Egypt. Obviously I didn’t know how popular she was when I was a child, but even when I catch my dad listening to her in his little home office, I feel a sense of innocent comfort - almost like when my mom used to wrap a blanket around me on our yearly road trips to New Jersey. 

Second of all, I have to give an honorable mention to both the Jonas Brothers and One Direction. I mentioned the JoBros earlier, and I know I’m not alone in how much their music brought us joy as kids. My family couldn’t afford to get us iPods, so I spent a lot of time at friends’ houses listening to them on their older sisters’ CD players or flip phones. You remember those swivel-y ones that had a trackpad like an iPod? Yeah those. (Also don’t talk to me if your favorite brother wasn’t Joe. I will die on this hill.) Now One Direction. I wish I was kidding when I say that my first concert was seeing them OPEN for Big Time Rush in 2011. I think that’s the biggest flex I hold to this day. While I cringe at old pictures of me clad in clothes with the British flag all over them, they were honestly my introduction to fandom culture. 

Third, let's get into emo baby. I started high school in a whole new country, which to say the least was a difficult adjustment. Kids can be cruel and that’s true no matter where you are, but by 13 and after being the new kid 4 times up to that point; you kinda become a target. And as cliche as it is, it’s what drove me to fall down a hole of Mayday Parade, Paramore and (drum roll please) - yep, you guessed it, All Time Low. Everyone who knows me knows that I love this band with my whole being. Now, there are a slew of reasons as to why. Obviously Therapy is one of them because my god I still cannot listen to that song without crying. Don’t Panic also came out when me and my family flew back to Boston after living abroad for a year. I remember driving through our old neighborhood while Outlines blasted through my headphones - ironically saying “I’m half remembered halfway across the world, twice removed from my second home.” But above all the intricate stories and lyrics that Alex has written over the years, ultimately they are the reason I met one of my best friends. That seems to be a common theme with me. I’ve taken it as the universe telling me to never stop listening to music. Like, ever. 

Finally, let’s all get ready to give the greatest round of applause for my college introduction into K-Pop. To be honest, I blame Halsey for this. I have loved her since I heard Room 93 (and realized I was not straight, thanks Ashley), and I can pretty much recite every album she has front to back. So when I saw them work with BTS I figured, “okay, I guess I can get on board with this.” The best way I can describe it is that Simpsons meme where the kid goes “haha I’m in danger.” K-Pop fans have this theory that your “comfort group” comes to you when you’re ready and I don’t know how they hit the nail on the head but they’re not wrong. I didn’t have an ideal college experience whatsoever, I had a lot of trouble making friends because I honestly didn’t talk to anyone (my own fault, I know). And yet somehow when I started listening to BTS, I made a whole community of friends on the internet and ended up meeting two of my best friends who just happened to walk into my job. If anyone has an existential explanation for all this please let me know before I go ask Namjoon myself. 

Okay now that we’ve finished that, let’s get into songs. These are in no particular order, but I guess a common theme that I can attribute to them is power. Not to sound like a tyrant or anything; power to me comes in all forms. The power of love, strength, dominance, and happiness. 

Is There Somewhere by Halsey (Room 93)

When I say I feel like I’ve grown up alongside Halsey, I’m not kidding. Not only was this song the prelude to my coming out, but seeing her artistry develop since 2015 has made me feel like a greater part of something. Too cheesy? Ok moving on. 

Jasey Rae by All Time Low (Put Up or Shut Up)

This isn’t going to be the only All Time Low song on this list for sure, but it is one of my absolute favorites. If the last chance I got to hear it live was at the 10 year So Wrong It’s Right Anniversary in 2017, then I can die content. I maintain that All Time Low don’t have a bad song in their discography, but Put Up or Shut Up is such a big comfort album for me that I still get the same tingles that I felt when I listened to it at 15. 

Don’t Lean on Me by The Amity Affliction (Let the Ocean Take Me)

The Amity Affliction is another one of those bands that marks a really crucial point in my life when I had to reconcile with my mental health. Not to get super emo or anything, but having every single emotion and painful feeling laid out (or screamed out, thank you Joel) soothes the numbness that I had accepted for my pain. Honestly, you could put this song on and I would still scream “LET THE OCEAN TAKE ME” at the top of my lungs like I did at Warped Tour in 2018. 

Going to Hell by The Pretty Reckless (Going to Hell)

I’m sure having The Pretty Reckless on this list surprises absolutely noone, but I really think that this album threw me into full blown feminist rage. I have never been one to dilute my feminism to make men more comfortable, but after seeing Taylor Momsen clad in leather singing in front of a band of all guys and commanding all the attention in the room (not to mention her VOICE) - I just wanted to be as badass and confident as her. 

Breed by Nirvana (Nevermind)

Is anyone surprised that Nirvana also made the list? Another moment of feminist rage. Have you ever had a guy interrogate you about a band or show or literally anything that non-men enjoy because he thinks there is no way you could possibly REALLY enjoy it? Yeah, I got that a lot in high school. And still now as a grown ass woman but that’s not the point here. I watched a lot of music documentaries during my last two years of high school, mainly about the 80’s and 90’s and the evolution of grunge, hence fueling my love for documentaries even more. And as always, girls cannot seem to like anything without being scrutinized for it so my interest in Nirvana was met with a lot of “yeah but you don’t actually listen to them right?” So it seemed appropriate for my response to that to be to latch onto a song that literally starts with “I don’t care, I don’t care, I don’t care.”

Brick by Boring Brick by Paramore (Brand New Eyes)

Paramore also comes as no surprise here since I profess my love for miss Hayley on a daily basis. I could have picked any song from Paramore’s discography; they are the ultimate encompassment of comfort and happiness. But Brick by Boring Brick made (and still does make) me feel like running through a field in the rain wearing a torn up down and screaming at the top of my lungs. 

Dear Maria, Count Me In by All Time Low (So Wrong, It’s Right)

Ah yes, the song that shoots serotonin straight through my veins. The first time I ever saw All Time Low, I was lucky enough to be able to photograph them. And even with a camera strapped to my side, I did not hesitate to jump up and crowdsurf the second the show was coming to an end. I’ve flown to Florida, California, Arizona, and New Jersey and every single time Dear Maria comes on something just takes over the crowd. It’s one of the few times I have seriously felt like family around a bunch of complete strangers. Even when I lost my earring, got dropped straight on my back and passed around the same water bottle across like 50 people. (pre-COVID huh?) I think my favorite Dear Maria memory had to be the last All Time Low concert I went to in December 2020. I was crowdsurfing at the same time another girl got thrown up, and to make sure we didn’t crash into each other we instinctively reached for each other and held hands until we were both over the barricade. I don’t think any moment in live music has felt more precious to me than that. (Also the fact that everyone pointed out that it sounds like an anime intro just makes it even more fitting.)

Magic Shop by BTS (Love Yourself: Answer)

When I say that BTS inject love into their music, I mean this song in particular. After Map of the Soul: Persona came out in 2019, I spent the following weeks listening to their entire discography all the way back to 2013. As soon as Magic Shop came on, I burst into tears before I even got a chance to read the translation (I cried more after I read the translation too.) BTS have perfected the concept of a comfort song and Magic Shop is the perfect example of it. It feels as if for 4 minutes and 36 seconds, you are safe. Honestly though, I could probably throw every single BTS song into this list. They have brought me peace, reassurance, friendships and genuine happiness during a time that I least expected, but needed it the most. 

#mary ragheb

[i-w-p-chan]

Would You Drop by the Afterlife on Your Way Back? Part 1

Summary: Xanxus has been trapped in the ice for two months when complications happen and he lands himself a trip to the afterlife. NOT a death fic. Bleach AU.

Note: when I had the idea for this AU, most of the events were supposed to go differently but then Daniela Happened…  

Warnings: Shameless Self-Indulgence, Bleach AU (So People Who Are Dead Pre-Fic Make An Appearance), No Actual Knowledge Of Bleach Required To Read This, Let Tsuna And Xanxus Go To The Sun Division 2K17, Did I Mention AU? AU, Fic Events Are Happening At X3 Speed, World Building Details Blurted In-Fic A LOT, POV Character Doesn't Get Much Dialogue, Poor Nono, Tsuna's Big Crush On Ricardo, Vague Implication Of The Existence Of Ricardo's Fanclub, Characters Get Mentioned (Blink And You'll Miss It! Style).

Disclaimer: Don't own KHR.

.

It was cold.

Everything was cold.

Xanxus shuddered and inwardly cursed as the ice tightened its hold on him, seeped into his body and latched onto his flames like a disease.

He had no idea how long it had been since he'd been trapped; it was difficult to keep track of the time while he was literally encased in a block of ice and he had nothing other than his own thoughts for company.

With every passing moment, he could feel himself slip away. To where, he had no idea; and he didn't know whether it would be a good or a bad thing.

The ice slid down his frame, it was a startling motion, one that never happened before.

The ice was sliding away and he was slipping, fast and unobstructed, until he felt himself hit the floor.

A warm hand settled on his shoulder with a whispered 'finally', and Xanxus leapt to his feet, jolting away from the presence he could feel with him in the room.

His body felt weirdly light- how long had he been in the ice? His body was being very responsive, unexpectedly so.

He focused his attention on the other person in the room; the sight that greeted him was very shocking.

In front of him was the specter of Vongola Primo, solemn and holding his hands up, next to him was a miniature copy of him: a teen with striking resemblance to the first Vongola boss but with brown hair and amber eyes. Unlike Primo's specter, the teen looked perfectly solid and was dressed in black clothes that appeared to be of Japanese origins.

The teen approached him, hands raised just like Primo, "Hey," He spoke with a quiet voice, as if Xanxus was a little animal who could startle at any moment and run away.

(Xanxus was half pissed, half full of enough spite to make him want to maul the kid.)

"I'm Sawada Tsunayoshi."

Xanxus blanked; he was in the ice long enough for that fucker Iemitsu to have a fucking kid?!

"I'm here to take you to where you can get medical attention," The brat, who may or may not be Iemitsu's spawn, continued, apparently ignorant of the mind-breaking thoughts going through Xanxus' head faster than the Prince brat latching on recently sharpened knives, "You've been in the ice for a couple of months already-" Wait, what? "-Your soul has already escaped your body to avoid further damage-"

"Hold. The. Fuck. Up." Xanxus growled. The brat stopped, "Fucking explain what you just said about my soul."

"If you'd look behind you." The brat pointed.

Xanxus whipped around, walking a bit sideways to keep the brat in his line of sight while he looked at the ice.

And then he understood.

There, in the ice, was his own body still trapped. Xanxus raised his hand, observing it, if he focused well enough, he could see it fade away at the edges.

He turned the majority of his attention back to the brat, who apparently understood what the look on Xanxus' face meant and elaborated, "You've been in there for two months, no one is supposed to stay in that specific type of ice that long, and that's why your soul left your body as a type of self-defense mechanism, leaving the body in stasis inside the ice."

"So, I'm dead." Xanxus ground out, fists clenched to hold in the anger, at least until he received a satisfactory explanation.

"Oh, no, you're not, yet." The brat shook his head, "It's like you're in a coma. Your soul is still attached." The brat raised his hands a little higher as they glowed orange, the glow brighter around what looked like a ring on his right hand. Around Xanxus, there was a faint rattling of chains that appeared around his figure, glowing orange and red, and leading to his body still in the ice.

"Those are your chains of fate." The brat shook his hands, the orange glow around them fading from view along with the chains, except the chains weren't gone completely; if Xanxus listened attentively enough, he could hear their faint sounds at the edges of his hearing. "As long as they're connecting your body and soul together, you'll still be effectively alive."

"So, if they all are severed, I'll die."

The brat furrowed his eyebrows and quirked his head to the side, "It depends? You have access to Dying Will Flames, so if the chains are severed, you can will them to mend themselves if you're determined and willful enough. People who don't are effectively dead the moment their chain of fate is severed."

"Chain?"

"Dying Will Flames users have multiple chains, which come from their original chain snapping in order to access the Flames for the first time. Next question?"

Xanxus raised an eyebrow at that; the brat seemed content to answer his questions.

Whether he was being truthful or not, Xanxus had no way to ascertain.

"And you are?"

"I'm Sawada Tsunayoshi, a shinigami, a soul reaper."

"You just said that I wasn't dead, what's your business with me?"

"Reaping souls isn't our only job." The brat hurried to explain, "We do other things, too. We purify corrupt souls that stay in the living world too long; we take the souls of the people who die to Soul Society; we also handle cases like yours. You're not the first person to stay too long under the Flames' ice, we kind of have a procedure for that." The brat gave a shaky smile, "We get the souls of people like you and take them to soul society where we heal the damages as we plot a way to get the body out of the ice. I'm here to take you."

Xanxus deliberated, "How will you take me?"

"I can open a portal, a doorway between here and Soul Society, and take you through. Besides, it's not like the people here can actually see us."

Xanxus stilled.

"It takes high spiritual power for us to be seen, even for Dying Will Flame users." The brat shook his head, "We could parade from here to the entrance while singing at the top our lungs and stomping on the ground and no one will notice."

"So, are you coming?" The brat gave him a look and suddenly, suddenly, Xanxus saw; the brat's eyes held the faintest orange glow, and an old presence peeked through them.

For all that he looked fifteen, he was far from it. And while he phrased it like a question, it wasn't one. The bastard was just making it look like Xanxus was given the courtesy of a choice.

Sawada Tsunayoshi's eyes told him that should Xanxus decline, he was perfectly ready to take Xanxus by force.

"You're asking me?" Xanxus scoffed and strode towards Sawada, who smiled at him, pleased.

(Xanxus wanted to wipe that smile off the bastard's face.)

Sawada turned to Primo, who was silent throughout the conversation, "Thank you for notifying us."

Primo's specter nodded before he faded away.

Sawada hummed, "You'll meet the real thing in Soul Society. Actually, you'll meet a lot of people you've only heard about there."

It was then that it dawned at Xanxus what it could possibly mean for him to go to the veritable afterlife.

Sawada looked at him with a small smile, "Oh, there you go. Yes, you have family on the other side."

Sawada raised his right hand, the ring on it glowing as he made a fist and pushed it forward in front of him, he then turned it like it was a key.

There was a loud click, and a pair of Japanese doors appeared in front of the two, an orange glow shining from behind them.

Sawada opened them, showing a hallway made of writhing flames.

Sawada gestured forward, "Sky Flames, they're pretty harmless unless I wanted otherwise. Getting you to Soul Society safe and sound is my priority, so you don't need to worry about me deciding to burn you to ashes once you step through."

Xanxus looked between Sawada and the literal flaming hallway, and decided, fuck it, and he stepped into the corridor.

The walk through the hallway was silent.

When the two reached the other end, Sawada waved his hand and the flames parted, revealing an expanse of blue sky.

Sawada walked forward until the edge and looked down before he made a triumphant sound, "Okay, we got our landing covered. Let's jump." And Sawada proceeded to do just that.

Xanxus poked his head out of the opening and looked around; the hallway opened somewhere high in the sky. Down, there were houses surrounding a walled town made of white buildings that stood in contrast with their surrounding area.

In mid-air, Sawada appeared to have been caught in a ring of symbols that was holding him suspended. Sawada looked at him and gestured for him to jump.

Xanxus braced himself, not only was he asked to jump from this height, but also asked to entrust his safety to a stranger.

Could someone die as a soul?

Xanxus huffed and jumped, wishing he had his guns on him, but prepared to blast flames from his bare hands to handle his drop if need be.

He didn't need to in the end, as just as he reached Sawada, another ring came into being and surrounded him, halting his descent.

The two rings than began to gradually drop closer to the ground at a steady pace.

"Earth Flames," Sawada said in lieu of an explanation, "I don't think they're known in the living world except for a select few, and that's only because they use it. It's another set of Dying Will Flames, like the Dying Will Flames of the Sky and its branches."

By the time Sawada finished speaking, the two had reached the ground, the rings dissipating and safely depositing them on their feet in front of a broad-shouldered, red-haired man with red eyes that had compass-like markings for pupils. The man was dressed in the same fashion as Sawada except he wore a sleeveless, reddish-brown coat on top.

He smiled at them, "Tsuna, welcome back." He then turned to Xanxus, "You must be Xanxus, I'm Cozart, welcome to Soul Society." Cozart turned around and gestured for them to follow him, "I'll be taking you to the Flame Sector where you will be staying."

Cozart led them to the walled city through a side-entrance.

("No need to attract attention by asking the gate's guard for entrance," Cozart had said.)

The walled city was as grand as it looked from above with its big, white buildings. Xanxus noticed there were whom he assumed to be other soul reapers like Sawada and Cozart, as they wore the same black garb. Except those in the city carried swords with them, unlike Sawada and Cozart who only seemed to wear a ring instead.

Xanxus figured that it had to do with Dying Will Flames; there were probably two types of soul reapers, some dealt with souls that had Dying Will Flames and some dealt with the souls that didn't, and Cozart had mentioned a Flame Sector.

The Flame Sector didn't look distinctly different from the other buildings. The only thing that separated it was the boundary wall; it extended much farther than the boundary walls Xanxus passed on his way, which indicated a much bigger area. The entrance was modest and had a sign with a flame drawn on it, on top.

All the building were designed with a Japanese style like the rest of the city, they were spread out in a way making them face a courtyard. Each building had a sign on top of the entrance, and from what Xanxus saw, he concluded that each building was specific for a flame type.

Cozart indicated the building that had a sign with a flame, very like the one on the entrance, "I'll leave the rest to you, Tsuna, I have paperwork to do-" Xanxus twitched; the afterlife had fucking paperwork?! "-you know what you have to do."

Sawada sighed, "Yeah. I do."

Cozart smiled apologetically at him and Sawada waved him off, "It's not your fault. It's just… you know how bad he can get sometimes… and you know how our latest visitor looks like."

Both Sawada and Cozart gave Xanxus strange looks that he couldn't describe and it grated at him. A part of him felt the overwhelming need to run and never look back, but he squashed it down; it couldn't possibly be worse than that time involving him, Enrico, Squalo and a couple of dresses.

Sawada trudged towards the building with the flame sign, calling out to Xanxus, "C'mon! I'd rather get this done with very quickly. Hopefully, we can get you to the Sun division within the hour.

Sawada walked towards the building like he was walking towards his own execution, Xanxus didn't want to go too.

Sawada whipped his head to stare at him, eyes flashing orange, "You will come as well, or so help me Soul King, I know just the person to threaten you with."

Given that they were in the afterlife, Xanxus also knew who that person could possibly be, so he cut his losses and stomped towards the building as well.

And so, the two walked towards their doom.

Sawada led Xanxus through the hallways, passing other soul reapers who gave them sympathetic looks before they continued on their way, as if this wasn't the first time something like this happened.

Sawada stopped in front of a pair of sliding doors. He took a deep breath before he opened them.

"Tuna-fishie!" Came a cry from inside.

Sawada launched into a flying roundhouse kick, nailing whoever came flying at them for what appeared to be a flying tackle hug, and sending them crashing.

"Ow!" Xanxus peered inside the office to see a figure lying among scattered papers. They raised their head, to pout at Sawada.

"Tuna-fishie!" What appeared to be a Vongola Primo lookalike whined.

"Captain," Sawada ground out, Xanxus was slightly impressed, "What did vice-captain Storm say about flying tackles?"

"Not to do them." Xanxus heard a person approach the room, "But G is a killjoy!"

The newcomer bypassed Xanxus and Sawada on their way inside, with an air of muted murderous intent, "I'm a killjoy, huh?"

"Ah… G…" G walked into the room and grabbed the Primo lookalike from his clothes to deposit him on the desk.

"Sawada Giotto Ieyasu. Fucking do your work."

Vongola Primo, and holy fuck the guy really was Vongola Primo, pouted, "Fine!"

He sighed and settled himself to start gathering up the scattered papers.

G turned to Sawada, "So, Tsuna, you're here to report?"

"Yes," Sawada started, gesturing to Xanxus, "Extraction successful, I'll be taking Xanxus to the Sun division for medical examinations. I'll turn in my written report later."

"Oh my god, G, he lo-!" G slapped a hand over Primo's mouth.

"He looks just like Ricardo, we know. Now, get back to work."

Sawada grabbed Xanxus and dragged him out of the office, slamming the door behind them. Pulling Xanxus down the corridor, he didn't let go of him until he deemed it safe, "Boy am I glad we got that done with. Now-" Sawada turned the corner, "-to the Sun divi-!" Sawada had to swerve to not hit the shinigami rounding the corner.

"Ah, Tsuna! Apologies! Almost didn't see you there." Freaking Vongola Quarto smiled lightly at Sawada from behind the humongous pile of paperwork he was carrying.

"It's okay." Sawada waved the apology off, "Why are you carrying all of this anyway."

"Oh, this?" Quarto's smile turned into a secretive one, "I'm just doing my duty, helping out the great Ric-"

"He's helping me." Another soul reaper joined in, "Even though he's actually doing all of the heavy lifting. He refused to let me carry anything." This one was Vongola fucking Secondo.

Sawada gave Quarto a nod and a discreet look, Quarto's smile widened and Xanxus wondered what type of secret the two shared.

"And you," Secondo started, approaching Xanxus, "You look a lot like me."

Sawada perked up, carefully maneuvering himself close to Secondo, "Oh, he's Xanxus," He said eagerly, like he couldn't possibly be happier doing anything else other than telling Secondo all about what he did for the day. Which, disturbing, Xanxus spent barely half an hour in Sawada's presence and still, seeing him turn into a gushy, giggly creature was making Xanxus break out into fucking hives.

"You know, my assignment." Sawada fucking batted his eyelashes, Xanxus was clearly lied to, this was definitely hell.

"Ah, yes, the one trapped in the ice." Xanxus couldn't believe that Secondo wasn't paying any attention to Sawada's flirty gesture, focusing on Xanxus instead with a polite curiosity. Quarto was looking at Tsuna with a pained, sympathetic look on his face.

"Of course I remember. I personally filled out the paperwork for your assignment." Secondo hummed, "But that was sure very fast. I only gave you the assignment not three hours ago. Good job, Tsuna." Secondo sent a faint smile Sawada's way.

Sawada melted.

Xanxus needed brain bleach.

Secondo returned his attention to Xanxus, "Welcome to the Flame Sector, Xanxus, I'm the second seat of the Sky division, everyone here calls me Ricardo, so feel free to do the same."

"Everyone here calls you 'Ricardo-sama', Ricardo-sama," Quarto interjected.

"Like I said." Ricardo's smile grew strained, "Ricardo."

Ricardo took a deep breath, "Anyway, you should go to the Sun division to check up on your flames, Tsuna will accompany you in case they need Sky flames for anything. He's one of our best when it comes to handling the Harmony factor."

Sawada emitted dying animal noises, and launched at Xanxus, wrapping his arms around him and steering him away, "We should go!" He squeaked.

The moment the two were out of the division, Sawada released him and took a couple of steps back, his face was red.

Xanxus quirked an unimpressed eyebrow. Sawada crossed his arms, "Hey, don't judge! At least you didn't see the captain with Cozart around! He has it worse!" Sawada said defensively, "And now can we finally go to the Sun division? I think that's been delayed enough, and we really need to get you there, Soul King knows just how much of a horror story this will turn out to be if Daniela knew-!"

"Knew about what?" A voice interjected from behind them.

Sawada stiffened while Xanxus turned around slowly; the voice was very familiar and there was a possibility that-

He was met with his grandmother's youthful face, "Nonna…" He breathed out.

"Xanxus." She looked just as shocked as he was, one of her hands rose to hover uncertainly in front of Xanxus' face, as if afraid to touch it, "You're not dead, are you?"

Xanxus was tongue-tied, and definitely also indescribably shaken. How was he supposed to explain the situation when he probably couldn't even string a couple of words together through the lump of emotions in his throat?

"Tsuna!" Nonna barked, not moving an inch from her position or redirecting her gaze towards Sawada.

Sawada jolted and didn't need any further prompting, "He's not dead, but he's been trapped in the Sky flames' ice for two months."

"Who? Where?"

"I found him deep in Vongola HQ. The flame signature matches with Timoteo di Vongola."

"How sure are you?"

"Father's specter was there, he was the one to notify us."

"And I wasn't told?"

Sawada suppressed a flinch, "We didn't know that it was Xanxus until today."

Nonna pressed her lips into a thin line, "You went and got him today?"

Sawada nodded, "High priority assignment from the second seat, Sky division."

Nonna's rage seemed to recede a bit, not going away, but simply simmering underneath the surface; she sent an amused smile Sawada's way, and his cheeks colored slightly, "High priority, huh?"

Sawada's slight blush increased, Nonna hummed, "Hurry up and get him to the Sun division, I need to go and find a couple of people and talk to Elena."

The color drained from Sawada's face after Nonna turned on her heels and headed back into the Sky division.

Sawada grabbed Xanxus and dragged him again, this time towards the Sun division. Xanxus didn't protest the treatment as he was still reeling from the encounter with his grandmother and dreading what she could possibly have planned, if Sawada's sense of urgency was anything to go by.

"Oh, this is bad. We need to see Ricardo about this later. But first, Sun division."

Xanxus broke out of his stupor to snark, "Fucking finally."

.

End part 1

Next

#khr #would you drop by the afterlife on your way back? #bleach au #xanxus #sawada tsunayoshi #daniela di vongola #ricardo di vongola #Giotto di Vongola #g #cozart shimon #Vongola primo #Vongola Secondo #Vongola Quarto #vongola nono #vongola ottavo #I.W.P-chan wrote something