An extreme pain in the neck that all authors endure: The Disclaimer.
I do not own Katekyo Hitman Reborn and I refuse to repeat this same sentence for the next thirty chapters of this story.
Just letting you know.
On a beautiful day of precarious explosions and various billows of hazardous smoke induced by potentially life-threatening bombs thrown around the classroom, Nomzomi, Rei sat next to a relatively undamaged window in the middle of this entire ruckus.
Nozomi, for one, did not particularly mind what the hell happened to the classroom as long as she is not disturbed in the slightest way.
However that was soon to change when the tiny substitute (Reboyama, I think?) announced, in an ash filled classroom harmful to one's oxygen supply, that the class was to get up and start doing ridiculous exercises.
In everyone's simultaneous bursts of shock, most dropped what they were doing and turned to stare at the teacher incredulously with sweat dropping off their heads.
Oh yes.
The substitute was their wonderful teacher.
Their fear-inspiring, chalk wielding, very assassin-like teacher.
He took the rule of 'obey your teacher without hesitation' to a whole new level and Nozomi had never before met a tiny man who could silence an entire crowd with a few words and a piece of chalk (Actually, more than a piece seeing as he was wasting the entire class's chalk supply by hammering them into dust against students' skulls)
So you can't really blame the barely concealed horror of the class and the high pitched screams of despair as many students (and parents) promptly fainted from 'Reboyama' s display of mad ninja skills and the entire class being dragged into it.
…
Well, yeah, you can blame the boy with the brown hair for leaping up in shock and going hysterical and thus causing Nozomi to trip over and ram into the silver haired transfer student who, by chance and misfortune, sat next to her and caused 99.9% of the pain in her life, while she was doing the exercises demanded by the tiny substitute.
Suddenly, the silver haired boy looked a lot more murderous than any boy with a relatively feminine hairstyle (Come on! Look at that hair! It's a girl's hairstyle, no?) had any right to be.
"HEY! What the hell is wrong with you?" he screeched at her.
"Nothing. My apologies." said Nozomi with a perfect, blank, poker face.
Now.
When forced to be present in a classroom where death is your next door neighbor, the teacher is a potential assassin, and explosives are something of a daily occurrence, one must learn to adapt.
And in this case, adaption was especially important seeing as Nozomi was somewhat unused to living on the battlefield and had quite a lot of physical faults.
Said adaption wouldn't work out very well if it were to involve retaliation via pure, honest, statements of the overly negative mind.
Nozomi, a girl who appreciated life very, very much, was more than willing to adapt to this rather strange (and highly dangerous) environment and therefore, she managed to cut her highly offending, but perfectly sincere, remarks down to simple, one word statements that were perfectly polite and not very likely to get herself killed.
But that doesn't stop her true thoughts of rather nasty comments from pouring out in her mind, uninhibited by any boundary.
So when she said, 'My apologies.' it meant more of something along the lines of:
You throw dynamite around on a daily basis, nearly reduced half my classmates to piles of ash, and pollute my lungs via foul, toxic smoke. I do not give a frigging shit about what offends your sorry ass.
Yes, Nozomi can be highly insulting indeed when she's in the mood. And at the moment, she had just lost her place in a thousand word book due to a screaming brunette now being tortured by the substitute so you can safely assume that just one more push can probably send her overboard.
"Che, stupid bookworm…"
Shit. He said the taboo. And yet…
Nozomi simply raised an eyebrow and carefully pondered on whether or not she should proceed to rip his head off via nasty, putrid language most pirates would kill for.
But taking in the fact that there was a good amount of dynamite hidden in who-knows-where within five feet of Gokudera, and that they were merely one feet apart, she highly doubted retorting would be a good idea.
Therefore, she made do with letting out a stream of colorful language in her mind mostly consisted of swear words and misfortune directed at a certain bomber-boy.
Thankfully, her inner barrage of cold, unchained fury that was rapidly starting to leak out of her body via dark, evil auras of death was interrupted when a beautiful girl with lush pink hair entered the class.
"Urg!" came a cry. What the hell?
Gokudera Hayato promptly fainted on the spot from the fear-inspiring terror of the century that was his sister's face. That, of course, led to his sister dragging him off to god-knows-where for possible surgery that would definitely do more harm than good.
And then, after all the before class warm-up exercises were over, Reboyama decides to start class.
Which is fucking bad.
Because Reboyama is by all means mentally challenged in trying to tell apart middle school brats from college professors…Is what Nozomi mentally mused as she looked at the front of the room.
The class deadpanned at the ridiculous university level math problem that filled the whole frigging board in less than five seconds.
How the hell did that happen without their notice? Nobody shall ever know…
"Anyone know this one?" He prompted as if that horrendous THING on the board was a perfectly normal everyday event as opposed to something seemly dragged out of the pits of hell made to torture everyday middle school students.
There was silence.
Not a single hand was raised.
"Can't anyone solve it?"
Nozomi stared at it. Blinked a few times.
And then decided it was not worth her time and returned to flipping through the pages of her book in a desperate attempt to find where she had left off before bomber boy made her lose her place.
While she was hard at work discovering the eternal fucking pain that comes with trying to do the impossible (in this case, trying to find one particular paragraph in a thousand page book that was half burnt do to certain circumstances. Not the best way to spend your time.), 'Reboyama' tried to coax the students into answering the problem…
…By offering a place in what is known as mafia.
Mafia.
As in, assassins, hitmen, murder, dirty-money, and various other sorts of precarious crimes that have a tendency to wind up sending oneself to a nice, clean cell at the bottom of the government's dungeon.
Wow.
I'm sure that just completely motivates perfectly ordinary middle school brats without homicidal tendencies, death wishes, or something equally life-endangering.
Speaking of which, the aforementioned brunette was eyeing the tiny substitute with a mortified expression of sheer horror that would have been humorous had Nozomi not known that whatever horror the brat was fearing probably applied to the rest of the class as well.
It seemed that the great 'Reboyama' sensei was tired of waiting for the failure of a class that was quite obviously not going to answer the problem and therefore…He moves to plan B.
"Oi, solve the problem or else everyone will have a turn chained in that." He declared, pointing to an electric chair which popped out of nowhere and seemly emitted an evil, malicious aura that decreed certain death and charred bodies to be deposited by the underground organization of this city (in this case, the Discipline Committee).
Just when all was about to end in precarious smoke and ashes of fallen students…a cow stopped by.
He gave us momentarily hope to avoid certain doom.
Said momentary hope that was immediately shot down when Reborn hurled a bomb at the unfortunate cow and blasted him to smithereens.
"Lambo!" the brunette cried.
He then immediately started quarrelling with the evil, scary, nightmare inducing substitute that was our teacher…But with the elimination of what could have been our sole hope of escaping this classroom unscathed, we had a new issue:
How the hell do we leave this place alive?
It seemed the only way out of this unwarrantable situation was to solve the damn problem that was unknowingly ripping our lives apart.
Or…as an alternative…torture the helpless tuna.
"So he is a friend of Sawada."
"What a pain."
"Do something!"
The class glared at Tsuna as a whole and he gulped at the mass crowd of severely pissed students crying for his blood since he sort of, like, brought the devil in human skin right into their class?
Which is more than enough of a reason to damn him to the pits of hell? (Not that we're not already about to go to hell via electric chair of all things.)
At the sudden increase of killing intent in her surroundings that Nozomi should have noticed a good five minutes ago due to screams and cries of despair, the said girl finally looked up from the pages of her book (where she still hadn't found the page she left off on thus resulting in a fiery grudge against the bomber-boy who fainted.) and noticed the dire situation around her.
Her eyes narrowed.
Then she heaved a heavy sigh.
If death was that fucking inevitable, then she might as well get it over with and say hi to her great, great, great grandfather. She'd always wanted to meet him some day. Just not quite so soon.
Then again, the world is a fucked up place so you never know.
Nozomi took a deep breath, raised her scrawny, normal colored arm that was a bit stiff into the air and held it there for a good ten seconds…
"Yes?" Reboyama called.
"Zero." Nozomi deadpanned, knowing for sure that this, of all numbers, would most definitely be wrong because the answer would probably most likely be something along the lines of A=Y324x234(12) 341. THAT probably had a better chance of right as opposed to zero of all things.
Silence penetrated the room.
And then, defying all the logic in the universe, the next words from Reboyama-sensei's mouth was probably meant to scar her for life.
"Correct." He said with a smirk. "Welcome to the Vongola Family."
Tsuna fainted.
Nozomi blinked and decided it was a good thing since she won't die via electric chair.
The rest of the class went into various states of shock including falling off their chairs, having their jaws hit the floor, or, to Nozomi's disgust, foaming at the mouth and turning into corpse like beings.
"Wonderful." She said. Then she went back to her book, regardless of the traumatized expressions of the many occupants nearby.
Little did she know, hell has come.
Soooo...care to review to tell me whether I should eliminate this horrid monstrosity or continue the story?
Ciao!