1047 B.N. - June 18
In the Courtyard of the Old MansionThe afternoon breeze swayed the leaves in the courtyard as Giotto positioned himself in front of Ugetsu.The stone floor gleamed under the fading sunlight.The air smelled of wood and freshly cut grass.
Preliminary Exercises and PreparationGiotto stood with his gloves on, breathing deeply.His feet were shoulder-width apart.He closed his eyes for a moment, inhaled slowly, and let the Sky Flame rise through his arms —a faint glow, barely noticeable on the surface of his gloves.He couldn't use large amounts; only a subtle halo capable of warming up his body, defining his muscles, and tightening his skin.
To the side, Ugetsu took position.He held his wooden sword, its dark surface still stained from previous training.His fingers brushed the hilt, then he raised the sword to shoulder height.He breathed calmly and began to recite the traditional Rain kata to himself, a sequence of fluid steps —advance, turn, block, advance again— imitating falling raindrops breaking silently on a lake.Each motion was slow, deliberate, unwavering.The echo of the wooden blade slicing the air resonated in the courtyard, creating an underestimated serenity.
Giotto watched him intently, feeling the tension grow.That kata wasn't just technique: it was calm, control, precision.His own style needed to harmonize with that stillness.
With a sudden gust of wind that shook the trees like a signal, Ugetsu finished his kata by raising his sword before his chest.Giotto lowered his guard, exhaled softly, and stepped forward.His flame flickered.
With the same slow grace, Ugetsu stepped back.He remained in position, ready to receive.Giotto, focused, lowered his center of gravity, bending his knees.His gaze hardened.He didn't want to use too much energy —his stamina was much lower than the Guardians when it came to the Dying Will Flame— but he still needed to gauge his strength.
Giotto launched his first attack.A straight advance, gloves forward, pushing a faint flame toward Ugetsu.The flow was smooth, quick, almost imperceptible.Ugetsu imbued the wooden sword with the Rain Flame and blocked;the impact cracked faintly, but Ugetsu only smiled slightly, unsurprised.The sound of wood clashing with flame hung in the air.
There were no elegant arcs, only immediate collision.Ugetsu recovered quickly and launched a horizontal slash.Giotto ducked as low as he could, and the wooden blade brushed a few strands of his golden hair.
Giotto stepped back twice, then leapt back, breathing hard, heart racing.His eyes stayed locked on Ugetsu, who followed silently, looking for an opening.
Ugetsu gave him no room to breathe.One more step forward, and with a barely elegant motion, he drove the sword downward in a vertical cut —a technical counterattack, more for posture than actual power, though enough to disrupt Giotto's rhythm.
Giotto responded with a backward leap to evade the strike line.In the air, he turned a quarter rotation, curving his torso.Upon landing, he planted his right hand on the ground, rolled forward, and rose with an upward kick.That was his next exercise: coordinating rotation, momentum, and flame in a single movement.
The kick was aimed between Ugetsu's center and right side.He blocked with the blade of his sword, absorbing the impact.Both felt the vibration.Ugetsu barely faltered;Giotto noticed the slight shift of Ugetsu's foot backward —a sign something was giving… or that his opponent held firm.
Giotto switched tactics.He advanced again with a couple of quick, small strikes —first to the torso, then to the side.Ugetsu blocked both with the hilt of his sword, bracing the wood to stop the blows.Giotto retreated, calculating the distance.
This was Giotto breathing constantly and fast during training.Ugetsu, deeply calm, yet sweat dripped down his temple.His wooden sword, infused with Rain Flame, crossed his torso to prepare for a possible charge from Giotto.
Giotto, wearing poor-quality gloves, didn't emit much —but a thin layer of Sky Flame still shimmered.He dropped his center of gravity and lunged explosively toward the calm swordsman.Ugetsu, remaining composed, responded first with defense, waiting for his leader's strike.
Giotto leapt and launched a front-back kick.Ugetsu dodged —slipping to the side with instant fluidity.In a moment, seizing the evasion, he counterattacked with a vertical slash of his wooden sword, charging swiftly toward Giotto's torso.
In the air, the Vongola Primo spun a quarter turn and blocked the blade with the soles of his feet.Giotto landed on the ground with his hands, still bent forward, and used the momentum to launch upward kicks toward Ugetsu's face.
The first two kicks were blocked;Ugetsu parried them almost entirely with the hilt of his sword.
Giotto, having used the first two attacks as a feint, extended his back on the third and delivered a kick to the side.Ugetsu reacted in time, bracing his shoulder against the sword to block.The impact was strong —wood and flesh collided, the sound was sharp.The force pushed him away from Giotto.
The clash made Ugetsu stumble back several steps.He grabbed his shoulder, bearing Giotto's blow.He took a deep breath and slowly lowered his sword.
...
The silence was absolute.Ugetsu exhaled and said softly:—I yield.
His voice was calm.He wiped blood from the corner of his lip with the sleeve of his tunic.Giotto held his breath.He approached slowly,touched the tip of Ugetsu's sword with care —a sign of respect.Ugetsu lowered the hilt to the ground, accepting the gesture.
Giotto, still upside-down, smiled and flipped upright, hands resting loosely in his gloves.
—That was excellent, Ugetsu, —he admitted in a calm voice—Your defense is not just technique: it's your aura, your composure.
Ugetsu nodded.
—Your movements… there's determination, vigor… but we still fight without fully using the flames. We haven't mastered their extent, —he commented.
Giotto lowered his gaze.
—I fear… if G trained against me using his Storm, things wouldn't go well.Those flames of his… they're long-range. Without the Hyper Will Mode, a direct hit from that kind of flame could… make it too dangerous.
Ugetsu looked at him with understanding:
—Among us, G has the greatest offensive power, —he said, nodding toward the sword—...you must recover.
Giotto lifted his eyes:
—Yup. It's true.
...
1047 B.N. - June 21
The murmur of welcome dissolved as the messenger entered, announcing with a trembling voice:—Excuse me, Vongola Boss... I come bearing an important letter from our King Kiku.
The group, who had been laughing and sharing a relaxed moment, fell silent at once.Startled, they turned their attention to the young messenger.
Giotto looked at him calmly, lifting a subtle gesture that was followed by the slight raise of an eyebrow.For a moment, the Guardians observed in silence; that quiet authority spoke louder than a thousand words.
—Enter, —Giotto ordered, his voice soft but firm.
The boy approached with military respect. The envelope was sealed with the emblem of the Kingdom of Fire —a dragon wrapped in golden flames— and bore the weight of imperial diplomacy.
The messenger placed the letter on the table before Giotto and took a step back, facing his superior with anticipation.
—His Majesty has sent this...
Giotto took the envelope between his fingers, his gaze focused.His Guardians —G, Ugetsu, and Knuckle— stood at his side, sensing the tension in the air.
With a fluid motion, he broke the royal seal and unfolded the letter.He read silently, but his reactions betrayed his thoughts; each word seemed to weigh on his mind.
—Is something important happening, Boss? —Knuckle asked with his childlike yet calm voice.
Giotto looked up. His eyes gleamed with seriousness.
—King Kiku says the younger brother of the King of the Land of Fire will come to meet me, —he replied.
G frowned and crossed his arms.
—Will he request our escort service? —he asked in a deep voice.
Giotto shook his head.
—I don't think so, —he said slowly—. The Land of Fire is strong and secure. They don't need our escort services. This request goes beyond physical protection.
A moment of silence fell like a cold breeze.The Guardians understood the implication: it was an offer of alliance —or perhaps a test of power.
—The prince? —Ugetsu asked in his serene tone—. What could the Land of Fire be planning?
Giotto nodded.
—I agree. He wouldn't come unless he had something in mind. Perhaps they want political recognition... or they're looking to strengthen trade ties... or worse —they want to gauge how influential we truly are.
—And what do you think, Boss? —G asked.
—I think we should accept. It would be rude not to, —Giotto said after a pause—. But with caution. We must ensure that when he reaches our borders, his safety is guaranteed.
—So this means special training, then? —Knuckle asked, his tone serious.
—Yes, —Giotto replied—. Take note, Knuckle. You'll lead a section focused on physical escort and first aid.G, you'll guard the rear and command the formation.Ugetsu, you'll handle strategy and diplomatic etiquette.This visit will require more than strength —choose your support teams wisely. I don't want any mistakes.
The messenger, still attentive, added:
—He told me the meeting will take place in two moons, under the highest moon... a date marked in their calendar.
Giotto nodded:
—Very well. Bring my official response this afternoon to the council.Tell them we accept the meeting, but we will not be manipulated.
The boy turned and left as quickly as he had arrived.As the door closed, tension rose —quiet, but heavy.
—Take a seat, —Giotto ordered, gesturing to the chairs in a circle—.Let's revise our strategy for this visit.
...
1047 B.N. – August 23
The moons passed like a sudden ribbon cut.
The moons had gone by as swiftly as a ribbon being cut at an inauguration. The ceremonial glow had faded from the capital of the Land of Lomo, though the corridors still echoed with its memory. In the main hall of King Kiku's palace, summer rays filtered through the windows, bathing the tapestries that depicted epics from the past.
Next to the throne, King Kiku —stone-faced, his imposing presence matured by the growing responsibilities entrusted to him by Giotto— examined his guest carefully: Prince Yaskar. At his side, barely noticeable, stood a child dressed in an immaculate uniform: Giotto, the Primo Vongola, only eight years old. His analytical gaze and dark eyes followed the intruder, as if weighing every word.
Yaskar, in his thirties, wore a friendly smile and seductive eyes; he always seemed to radiate genuine kindness. However, Giotto could spot a political mask when he saw one, and understood that this man was simply the pleasant face of a kingdom ruled from the shadows with a firm hand.
Minutes became hours... Yaskar spent a week visiting and analyzing the Land of Lomo.He had believed the rumors about the Vongola Company's capabilities were false, but what he witnessed in this country surpassed his expectations. There were no clever financial strategies like these elsewhere.
Yaskar, in his thirties, wore a friendly smile and seductive eyes; he always seemed to radiate genuine kindness. However, Giotto could spot a political mask when he saw one, and understood that this man was simply the pleasant face of a kingdom ruled from the shadows with a firm hand.
And at his side, little Giotto, only eight years old, dressed in his pristine Primo Vongola uniform. His dark eyes attentively observed the visitor, his gestures controlled, his mind analytical. The boy was respectful, yes —but not easily deceived by empty words.
For seven days, Yaskar attended audiences, banquets, tours of the Mint and the Vongola Bank.Each visit was a systematic deconstruction: financial flows, security, seal cryptography, commercial contracts.Upon entering the main hall of the bank —its white marble columns stretching toward the sky— he frowned, intrigued:"Why would such a small country produce a genius who invests this much in financial security?" he wondered.
From the corridors came whispers:"Foreign merchants prefer the solidity of the Vongola Bank,""Local nobles support the transparency that provides stability."Everything painted a perfect image... and that was precisely what made him suspicious.
And at the end of that week, as the golden summer light faded after the grand farewell banquet, Yaskar requested a private audience with little Giotto.The boy sat before a carpet embroidered with the Vongola crest and the royal emblem of Lomo, his back straight.
After so many formalities with King Kiku, and with the brat who had earned his admiration, Yaskar's greater fear now was that the boy owned a company.He even considered taking Giotto away from King Kiku. He knew that such a small country would waste this talent —he needed to monitor the child's monstrous abilities up close.
He couldn't leave Giotto here.He feared that Lomo would gain influence through Giotto's strategies.Yaskar's older brother had already planned to conquer the Land of Lomo and the neighboring Land of So (Land of the Moon) after dominating the western countries.
The week ended, and one morning, Yaskar requested a private audience with Giotto.The child appeared immaculate before the embroidered carpet bearing the Vongola crest, custom-made for the occasion.
A grand banquet followed: exotic dishes, foamy music, aromas of spices and silk wine.Among red rice, glazed salmon, and vegetable tempura, Yaskar slipped in his question:
—Boy, —Yaskar began with cultivated softness—I must say, your composure has impressed me. At your age, no one endures so much protocol without faltering. Should I forge a direct alliance with your father... or with you?His voice was warm, devoid of apparent malice.Giotto, without hesitation, replied:
—My father? He must be a very discreet noble...
Yaskar had heard that Giotto had no father. But he found it impossible —the child's knowledge had to be nurtured by a merchant or noble.
Giotto stared at him, lacking the usual childlike reverence or flowery rhetoric.His voice was clear and firm:
"The Vongola Company is mine.Yaskar-san, don't ask questions you already know the answer to... I have no father.Here we are a society. You want business, right? Not unilateral relationships.If you want business" —he paused— "then speak clearly. We don't make offers without tangible guarantees."
That break in protocol left the prince frozen, though he kept his smile.That unexpected answer was exactly part of Giotto's plan —to test boundaries, to perceive threats.
Yaskar maintained his smile.That answer surprised him...If a child could respond like that, he was already negotiating like an adult.
—Young Giotto... I've observed how you manage the monetary system in Lomo.In the outside world, we have ports, fleets, trade routes...I wonder if you've considered opening branches in the Land of Fire.It could spark a strategic joint investment, —he proposed, weighing every word.Giotto gave a subtle smile.
He smiled faintly, knowing this was an opportunity...His super-instinct surged —but he also sensed danger.Another part of him felt something important was about to happen.It wasn't as overwhelming as the premonition he'd felt in the Land of the Moon with Tenji, but this letter came from another powerful, expansionist country.
—Lord Yaskar, —he replied with childlike composure—Right now, Lomo must consolidate.Opening borders without solid agreements would leave us vulnerable.If you wish to invest... first, submit a strategic plan, backed by a royal guarantee from your court.
The prince paled slightly.His smile didn't fade, but his gaze darkened with a trace of frustration, smothered by the child's sharp wit.
…
As night fell over the banquet, Yaskar took Giotto for a walk under the cherry blossoms lit by lanterns.Everything was arranged to appear as a casual chat —but the air held diplomatic tension.
—Giotto... it would be a waste not to channel your talent on a larger scale, —he said softly, in a confessional tone—The world needs transparency... but also vision, and strategy. I could offer you support.
Giotto chuckled inwardly at Yaskar's words.The man had no idea he held far more experience —his fused souls had allowed him to live over a hundred years.
—Lord Yaskar, I appreciate your concern.But my expansion won't be rushed.In three years, we will request to open a branch in Fire.For that, I will require permission to operate with escorts in your territory.I'm sure such an investment would be mutually beneficial, —he answered calmly.
Yaskar paled for a second time.That answer was a diplomatic challenge:"You want an alliance? Prove it first."
But the prince nodded, embracing the promise of a "win-win" deal.
Yaskar gave a slight bow.
—Young Giotto, I must admit I'm surprised by your confidence.Your speeches outpace many experienced diplomats, even with their ornate words.How did you cultivate such clarity?
Giotto responded naturally, half-lying:
—I grew up among numbers, down low...But from merchants, I heard transactions, and from foreign clients, I learned their needs.Words can mask intentions —but numbers and guarantees speak clearly.
Yaskar, with a thoughtful expression:
—Interesting. And if I offered you a firm alliance... resources, fleets, routes... would you sign?
Giotto, with firmness:
—As long as the agreement guarantees Lomo's autonomy, we could consider it.But first, we need time —to grow step by step.
Yaskar, smiling with cunning:
—Then we'll give it time...But know that my court expects progress.Three years can pass quickly...I'll be waiting for those days.