1050 B.N.
May 30
The night cloaked the skies, stars scattered like forgotten promises. Giotto stood silently on the edge of a hill overlooking the small cabin. The children slept. But his mind did not rest. Giotto was thinking.—Daiki, Sana, Haru...
Daiki, the protector. Giotto glanced at him from the corner of his eye, noticing how the boy instinctively positioned himself in front of the younger ones whenever the wind carried the distant howl of wolves.
There was a firmness in his stance: legs firmly planted, fists clenched, as if the weight of the small group rested on his narrow shoulders. Giotto now saw him clearly. The boy didn't just act brave. He was brave. Brave and burdened.
—He moves like a shield —Giotto murmured, narrowing his golden eyes with calm interest—. Too young to carry such a sense of duty... but he chooses it anyway.
There was something noble in Daiki's urge to protect. Something that reminded him of the Guardians from a past life.
—This boy won't be just a soldier —he decided—. He's a cornerstone. Born to lead, if properly trained. That strength... it's not just physical, but spiritual.
And then, Sana...
There's a restlessness in her eyes that doesn't belong to a girl her age. It's not the gaze of one dreaming of the future, but of a strategist who, without realizing it, bears the burden of seeing what others cannot.
Her words cut with precision, like a sword forged in justice. She does not hesitate to correct me when necessary, though she does it with respect. A respect born not from blind obedience, but true discernment.
She doesn't speak much, but when she does, the group falls silent. It's curious... She doesn't seek to lead, yet others orbit around her, as if her mere presence sets the course. She doesn't need to raise her voice to be heard. She assesses before acting. Watches the board before moving a piece.
She always holds a feather between her fingers, as if it reminds her that even the purest thoughts need wings to fly. Perhaps it's her way of clinging to freedom... or understanding the world from above, like a hawk.
She doesn't know it yet, but her soul already draws maps, predicts paths, detects cracks in invisible walls. Sana won't be a sword-wielding warrior. She will be a mind that tips the scales with a single phrase. In the times to come, when this organization grows, I will need more than strength. I will need foresight.
She will be my eyes in the fog.
And then, little Haru...
As fragile as a sprout under the rain… yet, in his gaze, there is something sharper than a seasoned assassin's blade.
He runs among the trees, talks to stones and branches as if they were ancient sages or loyal soldiers. One might think he's lost his mind. But no. I have seen what lies beneath his play. Haru watches without drawing attention, listens without asking. And sometimes… he speaks truths that even adults dare not utter. He senses things that not even "G" could detect in the heat of battle.
He has that kind of dangerous sensitivity that, in ancient worlds, belonged to prophets... or madmen.
I know he's not mad.
He won't be a boxer. Maybe never. But he has something more valuable than fists in a world where blades strike silently: intuition. The kind of intuition that senses betrayals before they're spoken, that feels hearts before they lie.
Haru… that boy with clumsy steps and a bright smile… carries that spark.
When the Family is forged, when clans and merchants kneel under our banner… Haru won't be at the forefront. He will move among soft shadows, hidden courtyards, and rooms where secrets are whispered.
He will be my invisible eye. The counselor who perceives what even spies fail to uncover. The consigliere who reads the enemy's soul without a single word.
Yes… even if the world sees him as a foolish child, inside my organization he will be treated as what he truly is: a dangerous treasure. And if anyone dares to underestimate him… they will answer to the gods of this forgotten land.
They are still young, but their eyes have witnessed more pain than many adults. They are raw potential. They need guidance, structure, discipline. A purpose.
Seeking answers, Giotto looked at the palm of his hand.
—If only they could wield the Flames…
—System —he called in his thoughts—, is it possible to awaken the Flames of the Last Will in others?
[System]: Analyzing soul compatibility...❌ Negative. The Flames can only manifest in beings whose souls originate from the world of the Flames.
These five children were born in this plane. They are incompatible with the system's energy.
Giotto closed his eyes.
—As I feared... they can't become Guardians. Not in the way I knew.
[System]: However, you can train them using your non-systemic knowledge.The arts and wisdom of your origin have no restrictions.
A slight smile appeared on his face.
—The mafia… I don't need them to wield Flames. I need them to learn to govern.
His eyes sharpened, not with cruelty, but with determination.
—I will teach them respect, loyalty, power based on influence. I will show them how to lead, negotiate, and, if necessary… how to inspire fear.
—They will protect themselves with fists. Also with strategies. They will move in shadows. They will speak with authority.
A night breeze caressed the quiet breaths of the sleeping children.
In a low but firm voice, Giotto concluded:
—They won't be my Guardians… but they will be just as valuable. My future Capos and Consiglieri. The commanders of a legacy this world has never seen.
—I will teach them how the world bows to power… when you know how to wield it.
...
One week later…The cold wind brushed across the open field. Dawn had not yet broken, but Giotto was already awake. Sitting beneath a gnarled pine, his eyes reflected the dying embers of the campfire.The other children slept under a makeshift shelter of stone and wood, their loyalty sealed by curiosity and instinct.The sun barely peeked over the mountains when Giotto opened his eyes. His body, though that of a child, no longer felt foreign. This was the third life he had awakened to. He now wore the form of a five-year-old boy: a rounded face, golden hair like dormant flames, and warm eyes hiding centuries of memory.From afar, a tree in the southern forest trembled silently.Beneath a rocky overhang draped with dry branches lay the camp. Only one was awake: Giotto Luciano Vongola Gravina.Standing silently with arms crossed, he gazed at the horizon as if he could hear the wind's secrets.He wasn't asking out of curiosity.He demanded readiness.When the first rays of dawn pierced the dusty air, Giotto woke Daiki, Sana, and Haru. His expression was serious.He didn't look like a five-year-old.He looked like a leader.
"I want to know what you've seen," he said. "What lies beyond these hills. What you heard when you still lived with your families. Everything. And the information must be accurate. And true."
The three exchanged sleepy glances. Daiki scratched his neck and spoke first:"To the east… there's a great river, sir. It flows down from some black mountains the adults called 'The Stone Fingers.' Beyond that lies the Land of Ka… I think. That's what the merchants said."
Sana sat cross-legged, pulling out her quill."I come from a temple. I heard the monks talk about pilgrimage routes. They say this land belongs to no one, but Ka's bandits patrol more now. There's a war between two clans in the south: one is the Takami Clan. The other starts with 'Yu'… I don't remember."
Haru raised his hand excitedly."I saw a huge tree! It glowed from inside. My mom said no one should get close because the dogs go crazy from its sap. A drunk man said there's gold in its roots."
Giotto showed no reaction to the excitement. He only took mental notes, face neutral."Did anyone mention soldiers, caravans, or fortresses?"
Daiki nodded."To the west, near some caves called 'The Wolf's Throat,' I saw a caravan with red and white emblems. They were armed. They said they were from the Nami Clan, from the Land of So. They trade incense, rice, and salt. Some say they protect the roads. Others say they only charge to let travelers pass."
Sana lowered her gaze."My master said there are no real governments here. Only families with more weapons. Some temples make deals. Others… get burned."
Haru, quietly:"An old man said a woman with skin white as snow lives on the northern peak. That if you look into her eyes… you forget your own name."
Giotto sat on a stone, closing his eyes for a few seconds."That's enough for now," he said finally. "You three will be my ears. Every corner, every whisper—I want to know it. Starting tomorrow, we'll divide zones. No one must see you. No one must hear you. But everything you see… must come to me."
Daiki nodded seriously. Sana clutched her quill. Haru stared at the horizon, imitating Giotto.
The sun was just rising.And the most dangerous organization on the continent was beginning to take shape…not with swords,but with information.
Giotto was no ordinary child.And he couldn't afford to act like one.
…
The cold dawn air bit at Giotto's bare skin, but he remained still, eyes fixed on the forest stretching beyond the camp. Darkness seemed thicker there, and the wind's whispers through the branches were like voices telling ancient stories—stories that, Giotto knew, were more than mere legends.
"Have you ever thought about what it really means to belong to something?" Giotto asked quietly, not turning his gaze from the horizon.
Daiki, already up and stretching his still-stiff muscles, looked at him curiously."I don't know…" the boy replied. "I think it means protecting those you love, making sure nothing bad happens to them."
"Exactly," Giotto nodded. "But it's much more than that. It means sacrificing your desires, your comfort, sometimes even your dreams, for a greater good. For a purpose that transcends the personal."
Sana, quill ready, added,"I once heard at a temple that true strength isn't the power you hold, but the responsibility you accept. That a leader must be more than a warrior—he must be a guide and an example."
Giotto smiled faintly, satisfied."And Haru, what do you think?"
Little Haru, playing with a smooth stone, lifted it and studied it carefully."I think sometimes power isn't shown by strength or words. Sometimes it's the silence—the things left unsaid—that matter. Like when a stone drops in water and makes circles that reach far."
A silence settled over the group. No one dared interrupt the deep stillness that spoke of something greater than themselves.
Giotto stood and approached the small group."What you're learning now isn't just to survive," he said firmly. "It's to build a future. A future where no one fears walking these lands. A future where our Family is not feared for cruelty, but respected for justice and wisdom."
Daiki frowned, still not fully understanding, but nodded determinedly."And what do we do if someone challenges us?"
Giotto placed a hand on Daiki's shoulder."Then we show them that true power isn't just in the edge of the sword, but in the mind that wields it and the heart that holds it. Strength without control is destruction. But strength with purpose is creation."
Morning broke in golden rays, filling the makeshift camp with light. The children breathed with newfound confidence, feeling their words carried weight, their lives meaning.
Giotto watched them a moment longer, then turned toward the forest."Training begins tomorrow," he announced. "Not just with weapons or combat, but with words, tactics, intelligence, and patience."
A shadow moved between the trees. A gray wolf with bright yellow eyes appeared in the clearing and looked at them without fear.
Giotto was not surprised. He knew nature itself was beginning to take sides."Wolves are the symbol of this land," he said. "Strong, united, knowing when to strike and when to wait."
Haru slowly approached the wolf, extending a trembling hand.The animal sniffed the boy and, showing no aggression, lay down at his feet.
"It's a good omen," Giotto murmured. "The Family we build will have the strength of a wolf and the wisdom of a hawk."
...
As the days passed, routine settled in. Giotto taught Daiki to move with the strength and speed of a warrior, but also to control his impulses. Sana received lessons in diplomacy, map reading, and alliance manipulation. Haru learned to listen to the sounds of the forest, to decipher the whispers of the wind, and to interpret the gestures of those around them.
But not everything was so simple.
One afternoon, while Sana practiced writing with her quill on a makeshift parchment, she paused and looked at Giotto with concern.
"Master…" she began, "there's something that worries me. If this land is full of clans and bandits, how will we stop them from destroying us before we grow strong enough?"
Giotto looked at her seriously.
"That's a very good question. For that, we'll need allies. But not weak allies — powerful ones. People who share our vision and know that fighting us is losing from the start."
Daiki stepped forward, interrupting.
"But what if they don't want to join? What if they'd rather destroy us?"
Giotto crouched down to the children's level.
"Then we'll have to be smarter. Not just brute strength, but intelligence. Always staying one step ahead. Always having a backup plan."
Silence took over the conversation, and Giotto felt the weight of the responsibility he had chosen to bear.
More than ever, he needed to be ready.
Because this family would not only grow — it would change the fate of the entire region.