'Tsuna'. That word again. Maybe he's more tired than he thought, and is misunderstanding something. In the depths of his mind, a part of Tsuna stirs and disrupts the layer of intermingled dreams and foreign memories swathed over his mind.

Yet it slips under again when those rough fingers glad along his neck, and he shivers slightly. The feelings he has confessed of his cousin. The urges. If only he didn't touch him like he did sometimes, it would be so much easier to ignore them. This is a trial, he thinks sometimes. Something sent from up on high to see if he's deserving of the success he's made out of a tiny band of those who had enough of the injustice levied out by others.

And there's his name. His proper name, not the nickname Ricardo murmurs so fondly at times and yells at the top of his lungs at others. He must really be bothering him.

"I know," he answers back softly, reaching to take that large hand in his. "It scares me sometimes, you know. The work you do when it's so late, sometimes with not even the moon to watch you. It feels like I'll lose you to the night." Just one reason out of many to hate when they argue.