Within Your Dreams

Within Your Dreams, Here I Am.

He is in a foul mood, one that is not meant to be trifled with. Giotto Vongola is a man of excellence and pride; he is the lone man that leads the infamous title of the Supreme Mafia Father. The Supreme Mafia Father is strong and vigilant with the power to destroy as well as bringing forth new "worlds". He isn't prude or anything; it is just that he has to be the image of a fearful yet trustful father. He doesn't mind but...it becomes stressing over time. At the present moment he is unfortunately in, everyone he knows and loves are at the peak of potential betrayal. In the mean time, his alliances are fighting back and forth; all of them looking for an opportunity to destroy Giotto while he is at his current rule of business per say. The person that stresses him the most and disappoints him more than anyone else is, Daemon Spade, his trusted mist guardian. It is a rather obvious betrayal, one that he suspected from long ago yet he doesn't want it to happen. Giotto sighs. It isn't time to think about such things, he needs to rest for his trip that is to come in two days.

He walks into his bedroom deep inside the dark parts of the Vongola estate only known to himself and his guardians. The room is dark lighted dim by the over shadowing lamps; it isn't small nor is it excessively large, he likes his reasonable secluded room. He changes out of his office attire and into his basic pajamas. Giotto walks into the bathroom and brushes his teeth staring with irritation and tiredly at his reflection. Why? Why? WHy? WHY? WHY!? WHYY! He grips his tooth brush as he brushes furiously against his teeth's surface. Then altogether with not much of a thought he stops and looks apologetically at himself. He takes his tooth brush out and spits out the foam into the sink, blood splattering along with it. He grimaces but ignores it, to rinse out his mouth. With no effort he splashes his face with hot water comforting his aching pain. His body is draining out and he knows he should just fall onto his bed first before he collapses on the floorboards. Taking a towel he roughly dries his face, throwing it to his only chair in the room as he walks to his bed. He plops on his bed, bouncing slightly. His stressful body beginning to knot out in an almost painful way. Giotto groans with annoyance. He closes his eyes looking forward to his sleep and forces his body to settle into a sleep-like trance until finally everything dulls into the darkness.

It is within his dreams does he keep solitude, his mind is sane, and he can breathe easily without the hunching darkness of betrayal.

His eyes open and he can see the bright soft colours surrounding him. Giotto knew right away where he currently stood. He opens his eyes several times just to see the surrounding he stood in over and over again. He obviously is within a forest with the green and murky brown trees around him, the dreams never took place in different places nor were they hard to describe unlike most dreams. No, these dreams are beyond dreams, they reflected realities. Although far-fetch, it seems it is the only conclusion his heart, mind, and the Vongola blood that runs through his veins find satisfactions with. Every time he enters within this dream, he always seems to wear his full boss entire and no matter how much he tries to wear something else, it doesn't change, it refuses. That confuses him, I mean, isn't it his dream to control? It is in those attempts of changing his outfit did he notice something - no, someone. It was a boy, a small boy, with soft, ruffled, brown hair, small lean body, and an even smaller face.

His name is Tsunayoshi Sawada or so he has been told. Tsunayoshi would always be found sitting or sleeping and he would never notice Giotto's presence until Giotto, himself, walked over to the boy and disturb him. The first sight of Tsunayoshi left Giotto with an odd feeling in his gut, a feeling - for the first time - he could not explain. Who is Tsunayoshi Sawada? That question lingered in the back of his mind, in sleep or when awake, and sometimes it would linger to the front of his mind at the worst possible situations. For example, quite recently, he had invaded into an enemy's hideout and was fighting hand-to-hand with the boss, when with sudden inconvenience; he had the image of Tsunayoshi fighting against a young man who greatly resembled Ricardo. Giotto was lucky that he hadn't died that day, but that image bothered him as well as giving him the answer he was searching for. It seemed to be that Tsunayoshi was someone of equally great importance as he is. To the point he could say...his grandchild. It didn't need to take a genius to understand the facts that one image placed in his mind. One, the most obvious, the orange dying will flames, then the fighting gloves, the keen resemblance Tsunayoshi has with Giotto, and the most obvious and in your face proof, the Vongola ring, although (for some unknown reason) in its half form.