A quote once said, "The road to hell was ordered by the righteous, paid by the just, and was paved with good intentions". Who would ever wonder what horrors a smile could lead you to?

"Cosa Nostra isn't the place for you, kid." A man sneered, contempt clearly written on his face as he stared down at the young Vongola don. "You should crawl back to your filthy mother before you ev–".

The click of a gun beside the Sete di Sangue famiglia's don's head halted the tirade of tongue lashings on the brunet who looked as composed as ever, never noticing the tight crinkle of Tsuna's smile, clearly displeased at the remark on his mother.

"Roberto," Tsuna warned without any heat, clearly pleased of the swift act to protect his family's honor. "Do lower the gun. We don't want brain matter to decorate the Egyptian rug that Yuni-chan gladly gave to us, hmm?"

"Oi," the older don remarked, pissed at the threat beside his head but remaining rational enough to continue his charade. "I could take this as a declaration of war, brat." He all but spat at the teen. 

Tsuna, graceful and composed as he had been taught to be, only glanced from under his lashes, the angry blaze of orange bleeding through his eyes. 

"You could take it as whatever you'd like, Don Stellino, but I don't take too kindly in hearing such foul words directed to my family." Tsuna cleared out, attention fully centered on the don who dare try to sway his beliefs and moral code, not expecting his dedication to his promises and thus failing to make him commit some mistakes he'll forever regret if he acted upon it. "All of them are important to me." 

"Clearly, you jest." The older don sneered, the traditions of old lingering in his mind. Don Stellino plans to hammer the fact to the brat's face. He didn't manage to sway the Wrath Sky Xanxus for he had feared the other's upbringing and temperament. Too unstable in the head, he snorted at that. 

"Well, we could negotiate calmly without murder happening in this room." The atmosphere immediately dropped as another smile replaced the previous wrong-me-not one. All dark, malicious, and downright hateful as Tsuna continued to gracefully sip his tea. "But if that's not to your liking then perhaps a trip to the garden would do the trick." 

The mention of the famed garden of Vongola set unknown yet blaring signals in the old don's mind, instincts nurtured through death and bloodshed whispered to act with utmost caution. 

That one wrong move could possibly, no, it would break his neck. He may not even have a bone to bring back to his lands to bury, all remaining as ashes in the deadly Vongola garden. 

Don Stellino took a deep breath, trying to calm down, trying to steady his trembling fingers and chattering teeth as he reached out to drink the Jasmine tea presented to him earlier, as was customary to guests of honor. 

"Fine," the older gritted out, frustration and fear seeping from his aged form. 

"Hmm~." Tsuna hummed, drinking his own dried berry, the poisonous ones of course, infused tea. His glowing eyes both laid as a warning with how it blazed like molten lava filled with a sickening, loving smile. "Alright then. Roberto, please lower down your weapon." 

"Yes, boss." The mafioso immediately complied and stepped back to the shadows. Not too near to be seen by the guest, but also not too far that he won't be able to intervene if ever shit hits the fan.

When the pressure of the gun was gone from his temple, Don Stellino heaved a shaky breathe that he didn't know he was holding. 

"And Haru, please refrain from pointing your senbons on the guest. We don't want a dead don on the lovely sofa that you and Kyoko just bought yesterday." Tsuna intoned, nonchalance dripping from his tone yet the implied words only drove the older don to an early grave, or a life-long trauma if he ever gets out alive. 

"Hmp!" Haru's scoff echoed as she remained unseen. Undetected. 

It made goosebumps rise from the nearly faint don's skin. 

Thus, the meeting went unhindered, Vongola got what they wanted, and the don earned a life lesson he'll pass down to generations that would come before his death.

Smiles could be disarming; could be full of pretension. It could be sweet now and deadly next. Sometimes you'll have to wonder how two-faced you could be with that smile on your face. 

"Ne, Tsu-kun," Kyoko called out to the young man who sat near the balcony, steaming cup of tea held in his delicate yet strong hands. 

It's such a cold spring with how the rare pile of snow slowly thaws out from the mansion's ponds and fountains. How life slowly comes alive and relish its full bloom once the snow finally melts away to give way to new life. 

"What is it Kyoko?" Tsuna asked, never facing the young woman who felt a bit strange with how dismissive the brunet's voice sounds. 

For some reason, Kyoko regrets not saying yes to the young man's intention of courtship back when they we're in college – Reborn pushed all of them to get a degree before settling down in the mafia – but she was just so young and naive and maybe a bit overwhelmed of the pure love Tsuna exhibited back then. 

It was far too late when she found the blossoming admiration and affection she have for Tsuna because the lively and warm brunet never found another reason to find a partner.

He was just too swamped with work and damage control to even pay attention to the wide array of marriage proposals on his office table.

Remembering the aforementioned letters, some written informally and others as formal and regal as of royalty, Kyoko suddenly felt her throat close up and her mouth felt drier than the dessert. "I-I just..." Her teeth clenched in frustration. 

Tsuna, the purest of men who settled in the clutches of the dark and dangerous world of crimes, inclined his head to the side to see how Kyoko was wringing her hands on a particular well-printed letter. 

'Aah. It's crumpled now.' Tsuna thought at the look of smeared letters. Clearly, the one who wrote it is well practiced in using the traditional ink and feathers of old times. 'Great. Another traditionalist.'

It's more probable to think of it to be another marriage proposal or at least a private party to disguise the said proposal. 

'They're all the same.' Tsuna had to sigh at the thought. 

"I take it that it's another of the more persistant families again?" Tsuna chuckled, eye glittering in mischief and knowing and the familiar kindness and patience. A similar smile who smited even the cruelest and coldest of women to swoon on their knees was plastered on his face. 

Kyoko couldn't help the annoying thump and flush on her face, but also couldn't deny the creeping smile from how Tsuna himself smiled. His mere presence was just that effective in changing a place's mood and atmosphere. 

"Well, if you chose someone to marry then all of them would be long gone." She huffed, a bit of jealousy leaking from her tone.

Tsuna only shook his head in amusement, well aware of the woman's love for him but could no longer find his previous puppy love to even fake his feelings for her. He'd long viewed the girls to be younger sisters and older sisters for Bianchi and Lal Mirch. 

"You know I couldn't spare any time for someone with how things are." Tsuna gently said as if coaxing a child to understand and accept reason. Reborn's enough of an adviser. Any more and he'd never get away from his friends' nagging and worries. "If I left my post for too long who knows what chaos the others would make up." He laughed, mentally cringing at the conjured sound of explosion and clashing metals from tonfa and trident. 

As if a call of the devil, a loud bang resounded and shook the mansion. 

"Yup, there goes the West side." The young Decimo sighed, resigned to the destruction the others caused but the familiar glint of sadistic punishment also shined through like glitters of light in the dark. 

Somewhere in the mansion, Mukuro felt the dread in the pit of his stomach while Kyoya subconsciously shivered at the instinctual sense of danger. 

"But aren't you just tired of playing nice with them? Aren't you tired of smiling and laughing and just–." tired of pretending. Kyoko couldn't let the words out, aware of the danger of it and the animosity it could cause to various Vongola alliances. 

Tsuna smiled, as always and will ever be as the mask on his face. "As long as it's for all of you then I'll never tire of doing what should be done." 

Kyoko never doubted his words.... somehow, that just made it harder to see him smile.

It's weird how something that shines in the darkness could fool people. Some said it's a guide to safety. Others said it leads to a grave of the dead. 

"Have you heard of him?" A mafioso asked as a passing thought. "You know, the Angel of Vongola?" 

His partner, a woman who was cleaning her cold weapons rolled her eyes as if she's speaking to a moron. "Who haven't heard of him. He's the famed Saint of the Mafia. The one who always tries to stay away from conflict and bloodshed." 

Another older man guffawed in laughter at the indignant look the younger man gave to the woman. "He has another name known to those who crossed him."

The two, who are engaged in a heated glaring contest, immediately turned to him in interest. 

"What is it?" The younger man asked, clearly a fan and avid listener of stories.

Giving the two a wry smile and grim look, he said as if to whisper a secret, "It isn't talked around randomly. Nobody wants to remember how he boiled in rage and it had happened for only a handful of times. He's been called the Harbinger of Death, and everyone who saw his rage could explain why."

The mafia seems to constantly forget that even the longest of patience could burn out its own fuse.

The wind howled outside the mansion. Thunders rumbled and lighting crackled through the stormy sky. 

Clouds so heavy and dark and cold flashed white as the reflected light of lightnings sped through the patter of heavy rain. 

No sight of the sun could be seen. 

"Why aren't you sleeping yet?" Reborn asked, his brows furrowed as he stared at the blank, dull, dead eyes of his former student, now boss. "Exhausting yourself is no job for a good boss." He added. Hoping that the other would hear him, get out of the haze in his mind, and return to what he is before. 

No one is spared in the mafia. Not the meek. Not the innocent. Never the pure.

Tsuna's usual caramel eyes held no light and looked as if the darkest of barren dirt. His pristine long-sleeved shirt was rumpled, but no hint of dirt or grime could be seen. 

Overall, Tsuna still looks devilishly handsome. Puberty did him right. 

Another rumble of the thunder, heavier, more ominous, ensued before Tsuna spoke with a dry tone to his lips. 

"Neh, Reborn..." A trace of uncertainty lingered in the air as the brunet paused. "They don't hate me...right?" 

'This again.' Reborn thought as he made way to the vacant chair and sat down, his gaze on the blank look of his student and boss.

"Hmm. How about you tell me, Tsuna." The hitman intoned, clearly a hint that he's listening.  

Another crackle of the stormy sky led a frown to Tsuna's face. "I-I don't really know. I just feel it." Young, calloused hands from the constant fighting clenched his own chest, as if trying to stop some sort of pain to cease. To be gone. To never be felt again. 

Onyx eyes narrowed in thought. "I'm no doctor, Tsuna. That's Shamal's job. But, I am your adviser, and I could only give you an advice when you tell me what's wrong." This is fine. Two steps forward, one step back. Baby steps. He could do this. 

 A hollow laugh left the Vongola don. Vacant eyes looking towards the distance for something that isn't there. Only trees and dark and the storm. 

"It's just...I can't help it." Tsuna pursed his lips, clearly distraught of a decision. "Sometimes I wonder if I'm still doing the right thing." Orange bled through dull brown, one full of sadness and pain and self-loathing that he cannot explain where it stemmed from. "Sometimes I wonder if being in the mafia is a good thing." 

Reborn remained silent, already seeing where the problem is, why it came forth, and why Tsuna looked like the dead.

"Nightmares?" 

"Mmm." Tsuna's acknowledgement made Reborn grit his teeth. "I just keep seeing them, Reborn. Those eyes looking at me with hate and love and bitterness. They keep calling to me to save them, but I can't reach them. Not in the afterlife." 

The hitman huffed. Walking closer to the brunet to flick the other's forehead. When Tsuna looked at him with confusion, he bent down to level the brunet. "They chose this life, Tsuna. They know what they're getting in. They know the dangers of the mafia." Not like when you and your friends were forcefully dragged in it's mess was left unsaid. 

"I know that. I always have. Doesn't mean I could caring for all of them." Tsuna's bitter smile held life, but the comparison is too similar to a wilting rose that it isn't any different from before. A deep breath, and a lengthy exhale. "No point in dwelling in it, huh?" 

Reborn scoffed but didn't comment. Whatever happens, as long as he's alive, he'd be there to pick up his student's broken pieces. 

Gathering Tsuna's smile just as he gathered the 10th Generation Guardians. 

Irritating? Yes. 

Tedious? Yes. 

But how hard could it be? 

He's the World's Greatest Hitman after all.