Planes always made me sick. Sitting in a death-trap thousands of feet above the ground, packed into a tube next to strange people who smelled like sweat and hospital while very good actors walked up and down the aisles pretending to wait on you but just spitting in your drink while you weren't looking was not my cup of tea. Plus I hate being inside something. Outside and free is where I belong. Outside in a city where there were endless possibilities for money and people who wanted something and would do anything to get it, thats where I belong, and thats where I'm going.
Ikebukuro, Tokyo Japan. Where Sunshine 60 is, where you can pay to play with cats, and where all the news on gangs come from. Where there's gangs, there's Yakuza, and thats my world. I come from Italy, and am part of the elite of the elite mafia family, the Vongola. I was trained by a very scary assassination squad, and I have many talents that were drilled into me since I could walk. My parents made sure I could take care of my own, and that I never had a childhood, only classes after classes. Piano, ballet, violin, gymnastics, fencing, you name it I was probably in it. Any free time I had was focused around sleeping and the computer. Which is where I found a site called the 'Dollars'. Most of which were situated in Ikebukuro, so it made sense to go there.
Using the Vongola connections, I got a flight, a nice apartment, information, and acceptance into a private school called Raira Academy. So at the moment I was on a one way flight to the rest of my life, hopefully free of the Vongola and my parents and everything else that came along with that, though I brought quite a few weapons and memories along with me. Hooray for Vongola connections and getting through security without having my bags checked, one good thing about the mafia.
Looking up from the book I was staring at blankly, I saw a teenage boy about my age sitting a few rows up and across the aisle from me. He was a bit scary looking, with silver hair and eyes like burning acid. How could I tell? Because he was staring at me with something like confused recognition. I raised my eyebrow at him, an image flashing through my own mind. 7 year old me, at a big mafia banquet and a boy my age playing the piano in front of everyone. So he was involved with the mafia, and quite high in the status quo as well, as he was invited to that particular party. After trying for a while to place a name, a dynamite popped into my mind. Smokin Bomb Hayato. That was him, I believed his real name was Gokudera. I wondered idly why he was on this particular flight and if I would be seeing him again as I turned to look at the window. I saw him get up in my peripheral vision and start towards me just as the seat belt light beeped on and the captains voice came over the speakers.
"Attention all passengers, this is your captain speaking." He looked up as a flight attendant came towards him. "Please return to your seats and fasten your seat belts-" He scowled but complied as the attendant asked him to sit down. "-as we will be arriving at our destination shortly." He clicked his belt together around his waist and resumed staring back at me in discontent. "Thank you for flying with us and we hope you enjoy your time in Japan." I grabbed hold of the arm rests as the plane started its descent. Did I mention I hated planes?
The next few hours or so was a blur of people, luggage, taxi cabs, and maps. The only things I remember is the taxi taking about 300 wrong turns, and having to call another one to come pick me up when he ran into a Vending Machine in the middle of the road. He said this was perfectly normal for Ikebukuro, but I just couldn't get past how it got in the road upside down in the first place without some heavy packing machinery around.
Finally though, I got to my apartment building. Taxi man number two was nice enough to help me bring my stuff inside to the elevator after I paid him an extra twenty dollars, and then a nice man in the elevator helped me take it from the elevator to the front of my door. I thanked them both and was sure glad I hadn't unlocked any of my bags from the plane ride yet, since they both nearly dropped the bag with all my weapons. Wiping the sweat off my forehead, I opened my messenger bag and shifted through it until I heard the man leave, his eyes on my back the whole time, and shifted all my stuff two doors down. Reaching into the pocket of my jeans, I plucked out the key ring with the small silver key on it, and slid it into the lock, turning it and hearing the satisfying click signifying the start of my new, happy life.
So lame right? I was trying to make it slightly longer and less choppy. I hate choppy. Choppy makes me angry, though I know you cant really have a fanfiction and non-choppiness. But I tried. XD
Well what do you think?