Hitting the Hitman [Wader]

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firejay1

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#1
This thread is part of a fandom-fixing attempt by myself and Nemopedia Nemopedia , the crude beginnings and explanation of which can be found in the following thread, COLLABORATION - FANFICTION - Hitting the Hitman .

[Scene 1: Lambo and Addie's Arrival]

When she had answered the doorbell and seen a baby in a suit on her doorstep, Nana Sawada's first thought had been, "This definitely has something to do with my evasive husband." Some time had passed since then. She'd been attacked by a girl her son had brought over, hell her son had brought a girl over, and a million other things had happened. Two other boys from school had shown up, and she was pretty sure she heard an explosion or two from Tsuna's room here and there. She was doing just fine. She was handling it. After yet another explosion, she'd heard the doorbell ring and gone to answer it yet again, and yet again found herself looking down to find the ringer.

At first she wasn't quite sure what she was looking at. There was... a boy with wild, curly black hair staring up at her. He looked somewhat worse for wear and was definitely on the verge of tears, a little snot beginning to drip from one nose. He also happened to be wearing a cow costume. Worse, though, was the mass of black and white lace at her feet. The thing looked up, and it was then she realized it was a girl in maid clothing, doing a dogeza on her front step. The girl was nice enough to look at, but the expression in her dark green eyes was empty. "It is very nice to meet you, Nana Sawada-sama." She intoned, dully. "I apologize for the inconvenience my young master Lambo has caused you. We will be in your care from now on."

A month ago, she would've jumped out of her skin. Now, Nana smiled as if absolutely nothing was wrong and she got maids bowing to her every day. She turned her head and called up the stairs. "Tsuna! One of Reborn-kun's friends is here! Take him upstairs, okay?!" She looked back down on the girl, who she now saw could not be that much older than Tsuna himself. "Would you like to come inside and eat something while the children play?"

"I will wait here for Tsunayoshi-sama." The girl responded back, politely, one hand free to keep hold of the little boy she had referred to as Lambo.

Nana just nodded and walked back towards the kitchen, leaving the door open to become Tsuna's problem. She reached for a kitchen knife and went back to chopping lettuce, with perhaps a little more vigor than was strictly necessary. When or if Iemitsu ever came back, she was going to have to give him an earful.
 
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#2
Tsunayoshi Sawada


  

Peace had never quite returned to the Sawada household since the arrival of a certain baby. Tsunayoshi Sawada, son of an forever absent father, and a loving mother, the apparent heir of the Vongola famiglia, tenth generation mafiosi boss, and full-time loser, had been abused, beaten, threatened, and even died more times than he dared to count and any human should reasonably endure. The boy was certain that, if he had been a cat, he would have used up all of his nine lives, or barely hanging onto the last one, while the baby continued to terrorise him.

Ever since the appearance of Reborn the brunette had been relentlessly chased down and ‘trained’ to become the boss the Vongola needed, the mafiosi that Reborn saw in him. In response Tsuna was constantly teetering between life and death, ripping and burning through clothes like women wished they did with calories, embarrassed himself constantly with and without clothes on, and vomited from the harsh training done accompanied with frequent panic attacks from the stress and pressure on his shoulders. The more the boy thought about it the more ridiculous it sounded. Him, Tsuna, a mafia boss? He could barely stand up against their local school gang, or tell the bullies to back off. Heck, he had zero control over his own household. Him a mafiosi? Leading a whole famiglia that was generations old and supposedly the strongest and most powerful out there? He didn’t buy any of it.

Yet the baby convinced him to do whatever it was he needed to do in order to prepare for his future role. So, when he was sprawled out over the floor after another one of Gokudera’s explosions (literally) he barely could hear his mother calling for him. With a painful groan the boy got up, trying not to complain as that would earn more abuse out of a baby, and despite its cute appearance Tsuna was terrified of the toddler in suits.


  

Takeshi Yamamoto



  

“Tsuna-kun, your mom is calling for you,” Takeshi smiled jovially down at the battered body of his school friend. Gokudera’s explosions were awfully realistic for something that was supposed to be a game. However, no one got hurt and thus the former athlete let it slide. Besides, the baby seemed to be knowing what he was doing, and strangely enough the tan boy trusted the toddler in suits.

Meeting and befriending no-good Tsuna had been one strange experience he never expected so far. Surely, he had known the boy from school, but from Tsuna’s constantly rattled appearance one could hardly believe that he participated in a fun and cool game called ‘mafia’. Or perhaps it was because Takeshi hardly noticed anyone and anything asides from softball until his promising future was taken away with one broken arm.

Initially the boy had felt lost, but Tsuna managed to inspire a hope that his life wouldn’t end up in the sushi shop of his father. No offense to his father’s vocation, but it was one that Takeshi didn’t feel too thrilled about. The athlete’s grades were beyond any hope to get him into a decent high school, and prepare for university, so that option was out, and becoming a professional sportsman was quickly taken out of the calculation as well when an injury like his is suffered. No, he still had no idea what he wanted to do with his life, but spending it in a make-believe that they were training to become mafiosi sounded exciting enough.

And it had promised itself to be just as exciting as well.

“Hello!” the boy came down the stairs with another wide grin, meeting the blank expression of a girl dressed like a maid and a little boy who seemed overly hyper. They did seem like the type baby Reborn would befriend. "Oooh, is this a new friend?" he chuckled, keeping the thought to himself that the baby tutor was finally getting someone his own age.


firejay1 firejay1
 
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firejay1

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#3
"Tsuna." Reborn stared down at his pupil mercilessly. "I'm hungry." He announced. Gokudera was on the floor, twitching, having dropped some of his own dynamite right next to himself, but the baby ignored him and Tsuna's injuries. He hopped over to the door, making sure to step on his charge on the way out, following Yamamoto down the stairs.

The maid looked up at the boy who had come down the stairs to meet her. Strange, he didn't look like the description her master had given her for the next heir of the Vongola family. Perhaps he was another one of the Tenth's family. "Not a friend. This is Lambo-sama of the Bovino famiglia. We've come to pay our respects to the Tenth." She said, calmly, getting to her feet and politely brushing herself off. She still hadn't introduced herself. "And who might you be, sir?" She offered, politely.

At that exact moment, little Lambo ripped his hand from her grip and shrieked, "REBOOOORN!! I'VE GOT YOU NOWW. GYAHAHAHAHA." He pulled several grenades from his enormous afro and flung them at Reborn with a maniacal laugh. Reborn didn't bat an eye, casually using Leon to knock the grenades past Yamamoto's head. Addie dodged them with just as little ceremony and they exploded behind her, causing her hair and skirts to blow forward.

Reborn thwacked the other baby atop the head harshly, causing the boy to erupt into tears. Clasping his hands behind his back, Reborn grinned up at her, a twinkle in his eye. "What are you doing, you two? Mama's food is almost done. Come inside and close the door."

"TSUNAAAAA." Nana Sawada's voice came yelling up from the kitchen. Geez. What was that boy up to? "HURRY UP AND COME DOWN."
 

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#4
The duo that had arrived was a strange one. The girl was blank and seemingly void of emotions, as the little boy was loud and explosive. It was clear that they were part of whatever group the baby Reborn belonged to, even if they refused to consider him a friend. Another famiglia, so to say, which could only mean another handful of crazy.

“I’m Yama--” the boy was cut as Reborn appeared, causing the other to react by pulling out hand-grenades from his... hair?

Whatever the Italians greeted with, right? And how!

“Haha, that is quite an explosive greeting,” the baseball player rubbed the back of his head with his signature smile. His cool nonchalance neatly folding over his surprise, if there was any surprise left. It disturbed him how accustomed he had grown to explosions and violence in the short time that he befriended Tsuna. He didn't even flinch when Reborn passed the grenades past his head, or think of warning the girl when they blew up behind her! He was pretty sure that the average boy his age didn’t quite get to deal with this, unless they were part of a shounen.

But then again, Takeshi's thoughts went to the girl in maid costume. She seemed just as unfazed about everything despite not being much older than he was. Maybe his life wasn’t as upside down as he believed it to be.

“I’m Takeshi Yamamoto, and you maid-san?” the boy couldn’t remember if he ever caught her name, but decided that she hadn’t yet. He could only recall a Lambo, which was strangely fitting to the afro-head.

“Come, make yourself at home!” the sportsman didn't even think twice about the strangeness of his offer. The Sawada household had a special spell cast that made everyone feel at home instantly. It was the eye of the storm, the sanctuary from the war and Takeshi was part of it, just as much as the maid and Lambo were included. "What's for dinner, mama?" casually sauntered into the kitchen. Now that food was mentioned, he did feel hungry.

“Italian cuisine,” Bianchi turned around from the sink, throwing her hair over her back in triumph as she showed off the dishes presented. Pastas, secundos and insalatas were beautifully placed on the table, but the strange instinct not to eat any of the dishes kept Yamamoto wary. There was just something about the aura the food oozed that told him that it would be a bad idea.

Luckily there was also mama's food at the other side. Traditional and simplistic, but so very wholesome and homely. The boy was quick to seat himself at that side of the table, smiling at the maid to encourage her to do the same. It would be a shame if his intuition was right and the newcomer fell victim to whatever Bianchi had done.

In that moment Tsuna stumbled in, all butchered and pained as he tried not to let out of a groan with Reborn nearby.

“What’s fo—“ he halted himself as his eyes fell upon the newcomers, his eyes bulging out at the little boy with hair half his size and the girl in maid costume. Internally he started to groan, but trying not to be rude the boy straightened himself up.

“Cosplayer?” was his hopeful question, but deep within he knew better. These two definitely were from Reborn’s connections and as such meant nothing but pain and more misfortune to the boy.
 

firejay1

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#5
((Feel free to start the Varia scene, whether you wanna start from explaining how they managed to melt Xanxus, or them holding a meeting after he got melted, whatever. I do wanna explore that, because I've never thought about it, but they really never DID explain how he got melted the first time!!! I hope you don't mind I briefly said Bianchi was trying to feed Reborn. We can also conclude this scene with your next one if you want. I'll add colored text when I can from now on.))

The girl grabbed her charge by the back of his suit as he cried, holding him away from her rudely. When he'd first been born, she'd been very careful with him, mostly because she knew she'd be kicked out if she wasn't, but she had been his exclusive maid for as long as he'd been alive, and the master had gotten used to her treating the baby as she saw fit. Most definitely because no one in the household could handle him. It was a miracle he was such a spoiled, rude, crybaby of a kid with how little leeway she gave him to be a spoiled rich boy.

She looked at the boy when she was addressed, though. "Maid....-san?" The young master had been taught Japanese, as it was the rising language in the mafia world - a trend possibly set by the Vongola. As a result, Addie herself had been taught as well, but Italian was her first language. It was the language she had exclusively spoken until she was 10, and it was the language she used when she interacted with anyone except for the young master. But, she was pretty sure she was right in considering "san" a term of respect in Japan. Maids were not supposed to be given respect. In fact, they were supposed to be like air, unnoticed by anyone but the other servants. She was... special, true, because she was the young master's caretaker, but no one beyond Lambo had deigned to call her name since her grandma had died, much less use a term of respect for her.

"My name is Addolorata Scordato," she said, formally, and hesitated for a moment before continuing, "but you are free to call me Addie." She blinked her blank, green eyes just once, pretty much as close as she came to consternation. Lambo called her Addie, so she supposed it was the name she'd respond to, but she hated it. Hated that name. Being a nameless maid was much better. Whatever. He'd call her whatever he wanted to.

She took the invitation to enter the house expressionlessly at ever, though she vaguely wondered why everyone was so comfortable calling the woman she'd met earlier "mama." She really thought that she should wait for Tsunayoshi-sama- Lambo ripped himself away from her grip and raced into the kitchen screaming, "Food! Food!" He was as crazy as ever, and she chased him in naturally without thinking about it.

The kitchen itself had a number of surprises. Bianchi. The famed Poison Scorpion was casually serving (definitely-not-safe) food as if it was the most normal thing in the world. Had the freelancer pledged her allegiance to the Vongola? The boy who had called himself Takeshi Yamamoto very wisely stayed far away from it and she joined him when he beckoned, sitting Lambo on her lap. She waited to eat until everyone else did, when a boy stumbled into the dining room. She evaluated him coldly. This definitely fit the description she'd been given of the next head of the Vongola. A slender teenage boy with regular brown eyes and thick brown hair that stuck up in all directions. What she hadn't expected was how ordinary he was. His eyes were nice enough if you stared long enough, but he looked weak, short, and otherwise utterly pathetic. He didn't hold the presence of a leader at all. She would've been sure that the Vongola would be going downhill if not for the arcobaleno sitting at the table, just as casually rebuffing Bianchi's attempts to feed him.

Reborn materialized Leon into a large hammer and threatened Tsuna with it for a moment, before deciding he didn't feel like it. "Sit down." He instructed. "We have guests, Tsuna."

Addie couldn't bow with Lambo sitting in her lap, so she gave an awkward half-nod of her head at the pathetic spectacle in front of her. She didn't know what a cosplayer was, so she didn't answer the question, but lifted a nose-picking brat in the air so the tenth head could see him. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Tsunayoshi Sawada-sama. Lambo-sama has been sent from the Bovino family as a liaison, in the hopes that the continuing generations of the two families may continue to foster good will between Vongola and Bovino." Lambo made a dumb face and added, "I've come to assassinate Reborn. Hyehehe." But Addie ignored his words altogether and dropped him back into her lap. "I am called Adolorata Scordato, but please call me Addie." She repeated her introduction to Yamamoto-sama dutifully, assuming she'd be questioned again.

At that moment, someone else came stumbling in. He looked just as disheveled as the Vongola, shoving strands of his long, grey hair out of his face. He caught sight of her first. "Who is this?" He asked aggressively.

She was about to respond, when Lambo took one look at him and pointed, loudly proclaiming. "It's an octopus head!"

"HAH?!" The silver-haired boy looked hopping mad at the accusation and he started stomping over, but then he caught sight of Bianchi and his face grew pale. "SIS!" With a groan, he sunk to his knees, a loud noise coming from his stomach. Ah. The younger brother of the Poison Scorpion, Gokudera Hayato as he called himself now. She had only been told a week ago that they were going to be sent as a liaison to the Vongola, she had not been informed of the powerful characters that had gathered around this unimpressive teen. Nor had she been informed how long they were expected to stay there until they could be done with it. This was not going to be a peaceful assignment at all.
 

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#6
Italy; Varia Headquarters...

   Eight years of wrath building up without any proper channel of expression did something to a mind. Eight years of being encased in ice, watching the day go by and feel the body grow weak countered that. While his mind was warped and violent, depicting the most gruesome images of how to execute his enemies and imagining the heads of those on his hitlist, his body unfortunately couldn’t keep up. With his release from his frozen coffin the young man was taken to rehabilitate at the Varia headquarters, a thought that very much displeased him.

Months had passed since then and Xanxus had regained some of his strength. Enough at least to start his plan of vengeance, which was first to get rid of his traitors.

“Are these all the scum from Ottavio?” he gruffed at his subordinates. The betrayal from his own men had cut in deep, Xanxus had always believed that he imposed too much fear and intimidation to scare anyone into loyalty to him, but he had been terribly wrong. A handful of trash had believed they could defeat him by going behind his back with the former vice of the assassination group. A feat they had succeeded in for eight long years. Eight years in which Xanxus’ wrath had grown worse and as such their punishment.

The flash of fear that crossed they wore on their faces was a joy he would remember for a long while. Their last moments of their lives, utterly degraded and disgraced to be nothing more than the trash they were meant to be. This is what one deserved for thinking to betray Xanxus. Without even a second thought Xanxus pulled the trigger putting an end to the treacherous time within his own team.

“Any news from the Vongola?” finally the male thought of asking for the Vongola Nono, but his intentions weren’t like that of a loving son. He wanted his seat, his claim and he needed the Nono out of his way as well as any other possible heirs.

His body was catching up, but it was getting there to execute what his mind was thinking. He could feel the flame warming up his waking body.

Japan; Sawada Household...

   Takeshi had trouble following the girl as she introduced herself. Adolerata? Adorable? He had trouble remembering the exotic name, but at least the girl provided with a simple nickname. Addie. That he could remember!

As per usual the actions that followed in the Sawada household went into a fast sequence. As if someone pressed the fast-forward button. Addie grabbed hold of Lambo, Reborn got his toy hammer out and threatened Tsuna into sitting down, the brunette still swirly eyed over the introduction Addie had given. Takeshi figured that his peer was just as confused and relieved as he had been over the name of their new friend.

And then to top it all off the running gag of the day was when Gokudera slumped down to the floor upon the sight of his sister. Takeshi laughed heartily at the scene, thinking nothing of it and believing that the silver-haired boy was overreacting. Siblings were such a joy!

"It's strange here, but fun," Takeshi explained to Addie figuring that she might be overwhelmed by it all. Tsuna yelped at him for that, hands raising up to his head in utter distaste and panic.

"Fun! No, they are terrible, this all is terrible, my life is--" the boy went on a rant before he got hit in the back of his head. The source of the violence was unknown, but the Tenth could guess.

"Why not a cosplayer," Tsuna sighed in defeat as he took a seat across the newcomer. What he would do to go back to his no-good useless mundane life again.
 

firejay1

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#7

[Scene 2: Before the Ring Battles] (Assumes the events of Hidden Bullet: X-Fiamma are canon and have just happened)

Ottavio, the fool. Squalo ground his teeth together. He had failed his leader in allowing the second-in-command to get away with his treachery for so long. For eight years, they had been left wondering how Nono had anticipated their attack in time to draw him and Xanxus to the basement unsupported. After Xanxus had been frozen, the Varia had been led by Ottavio and otherwise had been left alone. Squalo had suspected a traitor in their midst because Nono had seemed a bit too well-prepared, but it was even more suspicious that they were left as they were. He had searched for proof of a rat ever since, but his snooping had failed to bear any fruit.

When Xanxus had first been brought back to them, it had been Squalo who had been first notified by the Ninth, possibly because he had been there during the freezing, and was the only one who knew the truth. The old man had not explained how or why Xanxus had been freed, but he had said this: "I am sure he will not want to see me right away. When he asks after me, tell him I am prepared to meet him." He hadn't actually expected it to happen as the old man said.

Standing with the other main four of Xanxus' trusted vassals, watching the destruction of the traitors, he was the first to answer his leader's question. "Vongola Nono said he'd meet you if you wanted to, boss, but there are rumors saying he's chosen a successor. Someone in Japan." His voice was just a little louder than most people probably would have wanted him to speak, but at least it was on the normal side - the voice he used when he was being serious instead of angry. There really wasn't anything in between those two extremes.

"Voi." He added. "What are you planning to do with this?" He kicked the wrecked machine Ottavio had used to try and kill Xanxus. "You said he called it a Mosca, or something? I've never seen anything like it before." After Mammon had destroyed it from the back, a person had come tumbling out of it, and Squalo could only figure the person had been used to power it. It was an interesting machine, and it would be a waste to simply dispose of it.
 

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#8
Italy;

  Eight years had passed. Of course the world had changed. Technology advanced, new weapons had been brought out, new groups had reared their ugly heads, people grew restless and forgot to fear. Grunting Xanxus glared at the machine from which a goon fell out. Even that ugly thing was part of the eight years he had missed. However, judging from the reaction of his underlings he guessed that it was new to them as well. Finally something the scum knew as little about as he did. Xanxus was tired of their looks whenever it became obvious just how much he had missed and needed to catch up on.

“The old man has chosen his successor already?” Xanxus wasn’t surprised to hear that the old man had. What did surprise him was the location. Japan? Why Japan? What bastard had the ninth fathered there that put them above him in the line of succession? Was this why the old man had decided to freeze him for eight long years?

There were still many puzzle pieces of this new present time that he didn’t entirely understand, but he had the time now. Deepening his scowl, the frown turning deeper than it usually did he waved for the good to be put together with the rest of the traitors. He would figure it all out later, after he had taken out the trash.

And that was all he really said to the men he burned, trash. The fire within him releasing, eight years of pent-up anger and a life-long temper tantrum fused into raw power that they called his flame of Wrath. Xanxus relished in the power he got from that, the pure energy blasting in his face as he felt his body twitch.

He was ready.

Turning around he glowered his men down, face haughty and eyes harsh as per usual. There was a lot to do and to catch up on, but he knew he would get there. He grew up in the slums of Italy, hardships were his oldest and most loyal friends. There was no time for him to mourn, only to take. “Take that machine, I will see the old man.” Setting out his orders a plan was brewing within his mind. He was no genius, but he knew how to recognise his chances.

“After that we’re going to Japan,” and within that last statement a dozen of new orders lay hidden. Xanxus was not a patient man and he expected his subordinates to pick up on his subtleties even after eight years of imprisonment.

And if they didn’t? They were trash. Simply trash.

Japan; Kokuyo Junior High

  Somewhere entirely different, a young man guffawed at himself from the shadows. The lines of the shadows resembled the silhouette of a pineapple attached to a body, but nothing of such morbid fashion had happened, just a fashionable morbidity.

Kokuyo Junior High was once a school like any other. Students would enter it when the school bell rang, take their seats at their assigned positions and listen to long lectures that would enhance their knowledge of the general world, or at least for the next exam. Mukuro Rokudo held little respect for such organised places. He found it difficult to respect any sort of authority that tried to cage him into a mold. However, Kokuyo had taken his special interest for no particular reason. Just a group of dumb kids his age that he had managed to overpower and cast under his illusion.

“Kufufu, what a wonderful sight, not?” he spoke to his accomplishes. He wasn’t sure what to call them exactly. Family would make them sound too much like that old place he had escaped. Friends wasn’t right either. He prided himself in being enlightened to the extent of understanding that caring was unneeded in this worthless life. Yet, he found himself finding their lives to be of some worth.

Before him an even younger boy was brought in. One with soft brown hair and rather plain in appearance compared to the many interesting people that seemed to inhabit this city. Smirking the illusionist sat up, arm balancing next to him on a fancy couch he had summoned for himself. It made him feel grown up, despite the obvious youth of his age. Crossing his leg he leant back, relaxing. “Shall we play a game?” the question came lazily, but the flash of red in his right eye promised nightmares for days.
 

firejay1

The Phoenix
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#9


[Start of Kokuyo Arc]

Japan; Sawada Household

  Nana looked speculatively down at the pamphlets spread across the dining room table. Judo, Aikido, Karate. Some part of her knew, looking down at those pamphlets, that any of these options would probably not actually help her son defend himself in the case of a fight, not because he couldn't physically do it, but because that namby pamby attitude of his never allowed him to really get good at any physical pursuit. Still, this time she was determined. Times were dangerous, with all these students from Namimori getting beaten senseless, and from what she'd heard, each of the students attacked had been left with a small pocket watch stopped on a different time. She shuddered. How scary.

She cast her son's strange new tutor, Reborn, a glance, to see how he felt about it. He just sat there sipping his tea and eating his breakfast with those impassive black eyes as always. She sighed and yelled, "Tsuna! Come down for breakfast!" When he came down, she pointed at the pamphlets with a cheerful smile, masking how worried she really was. "How about it, Tsuna? Which one of these classes looks good? I want you to start taking some sort of self-defense class. I don't want you to end up like those six Disciplinary Committee members from your school." She spoke airily, somewhat hoping he already knew what she was talking about. Her son was such an airhead. Really, who did he take after?
 

Nemopedia

Storms lie. A breeze it becomes. A breath it ends.
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#10
Japan; Sawada household - Tsunayoshi Sawada

  Krav maga, kickboxing, a variety of flyers were presented to the boy that morning. Flyers that all advertised some form of self-defense taught at the variety of schools they had in the area. Gulping the teen’s mind went to Ryohei, the brother of Kyoko and a total boxing fanatic. Did Ryohei manage to convince his mom into talking Tsuna into the club?

Anxious the boy glanced over to his mother grinning sheepishly. “Do you want to learn, mom?” he tried cautiously, but got quickly shot down as his mother urged him to pick. His eyes widening at the news of the wounded disciplinary committee members.

Another sheepish smile and an uncomfortable chuckle escaped the Vongola heir, his eyes shifting over to Reborn in a silent plea of help. He had more than enough to worry about without having to pick up a self-defense class. Besides, if his mother had a clue of what Reborn put him through on a daily base she wouldn’t be worrying about the beatings around the school.

“Well... it is the disciplinary committee,” Tsuna tried, suddenly feeling a little nervous at the very mention of that group. “I hardly associate myself with them, I doubt I’m a target,” the boy continued, his eyes falling on the clock as he realised how wrong his statement would be if he lingered around any longer.

“Speaking of that,” he gulped. Grabbing hold of his bag Tsuna made sure to give his mother a kiss before grabbing a toast with his other hand, running out of the door with bread in his mouth. The wounded disciplinary committee members already forgotten in the back of his mind.

Japan; Kokuyo Land - Mukuro Rokudo

  There was something perfect about an abandoned attraction park. Once beloved and crowded, now empty and left to time, rejected now that it had served its purpose. It had been neglected in such a state that the vegetation of the greenhouse had overtaken the building, covering the glass house and hiding the life it used to hold, giving way to a new life with no trace of what man had made once upon a time.

Dust and humidity had invaded every other space, making room for mould to fester and the distinct smell of neglect to land. It added into the illusion that life had left Kokuyo Land.

“Any news, Chikusa?” It wasn’t even a question anymore, Mukuro knew. Staring down at the list of names the boy smirked, confident that they would hit the jackpot soon. After all, their source had been reliable, very reliable.

A lanky boy slumped forward, pushing his glasses up as he slid the yoyo back into his pocket. “They were part of a group, but not the Vongola,” Chikusa responded callously, unfazed by the blood staining his cuffs. None that were his, though. None of them had been impressive enough for that.

“How very boring,” Mukuro responded, eyes turning over to one corner of the room. Another smirk. “But I’m patient,” he continued, watching the small figure in the corner flinch at the attention. “Sooner or later the Vongola heir will have to face me.” [/volor]

A six appeared in his right eye, a brief flash of red appeared and with that another order was given.