So, I really have decided that I love writing, both in mind and spirit. After writing my first fanfic on One Piece, which I am still currently writing, yes, rest assured, I realized that I wanted to, well, write more. And so, ideas kept popping into my head. And then I was listening to music and titles, lyrics, and storylines – they all came to me sequentially in the span of only an hour, late last night from where I am.

So, today is the day in which I begin a new story whilst writing another. This time, the story is centered on Katekyo Hitman Reborn! because I, personally, adore the anime and manga. It's definitely one of my favorites out there. Too bad it's actually over, however. That made me so sad.

That's why we have fanfics to get our sorrows out over finished anime and manga. It's like . . . a spiritual thing.

Anyways, here I am, as usual, rambling. Forgive me! I have several ways this story can go as well, but unlike my One Piece fic, I'm going to write a "try me out" attempt of a chapter to see if anyone likes the story so far. And then I shall hopefully await some reviews. Deal?

In doing so, as stated above, if you guys review and give me recommendations, that way, I can see whether it's popular enough and inevitably balance a schedule between this story and my significant other, Finding Me. (And if anyone wants to check that one out, feel free.)

I'm also going to lengthen this story more. In my other one, I have three to five thousand words chapters and I'd like to bump it up to a possible six or seven thousand in this one, which will be quite an interesting task. Bear with me, all the same.

Good talk, guys.

The plot and characters of KHR belong to Akira Amano. My new character belongs to me, and I literally love her, so, thank goodness she's actually mine. :]


Prologue: Hope of Morning


"It's being here now that's important. There's no past and there's no future. Time is a very misleading thing. All there is ever, is the now. We can gain experience from the past, but we can't relive it; and we can hope for the future, but we don't know if there is one."


In 1957, the Federal Bureau of Investigation, more commonly referred to by the public as the FBI, were forced to admit and recognize the Mafia as a National Crime Syndicate. Before this year, the FBI felt that the Mafia and the Mob were simply a group to be taken care of by local police forces in nearby regions closest to where each "famiglia" resided in secret.

The Mafia is kept in the "hush-hush" if you will. You may hear a few facts about it here and there, or even a name may pop up, like Charles 'Lucky' Luciano, or even the infamous Al Capone. Al Capone and his gang, I suppose, took part in the ignominious St. Valentine's Day Massacre of 1929 in which Capone's gang and other had an all-out fight, or better yet war, of bitter vengeance.

The Mafia is not something to mess with, nor is it something you want to . . . ungracefully "stumble" upon. In fact, even thinking upon joining or being a part the Mafia is something one should most definitely abscond from.

Unless, well, unless of course you're me. And when you're me, you have, unfortunately, been born into the Mafia, the scandals, the scheming, the murdering, the plundering and the dying. There's no escaping one's fate, regrettably in my honest opinion; there's only one clear option: embrace it.

As one of my dearest role models, Albert Einstein once said, "There are only two ways to live life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is."

This is my story. However, I definitely feel it cannot even be considered a miracle.

Others . . . would reasonably beg to differ. And I with them.


After taking you through a rudimentary and rather pathetic introduction to just some random facts about the Mafia, as well as a polite introduction as to how my life was lived as a child actually in the Mafia, let me set down some seeds, and let you guys water them down, eventually and hopefully creating a wonderful tree in the end.

Who am I? I'm sure you have been eagerly and curiously awaiting such an answer after I withheld it for so long, or at least, I can only assume that's how you all feel. I'm just as impatient, worry not.

My name is Solaria Seraphin.

I know, I know, it's quite an interesting and yet bizarrely foreign name. However, it is my name all the same. If it's pure drudgery to actually read it aloud, I'll aid you. Follow after me: "So-lar-ee-a." That's my first name. And the second: "Se-ra-phin."

Bless your hearts, I'm just kidding. As you'll soon discover, or maybe you've already had the foresight to notice it now, I'm a bit of a bratty child. For your ease of reading, please call me Sol.

My teachers were always so confused when they had to read my name-cards to the class, God knows why –wink, wink - And then there I would be, standing in front of a whole new lot of peers, feeling embarrassed as any child whose name was just mispronounced should.

My appearance? Golly, you guys do happy to ask a lot of me. I'm a nice average height, if I do say so myself, of five feet five inches, or for my Eastern Hemisphere, around one hundred and sixty-five centimeters. I'm extremely, detrimentally thin, which of course, has a long story behind it – I'm not sharing. Whoops! I also have long, flowing, auburn red-brown hair that rests just around my hips. I also have bright, rather glowing as I have been told, emerald green eyes, and a light covering of a few freckles just below them, and a dashing of freckles on my nose. With my long hair, and glowing eyes, I'm typically the talk of my schools, and boy, have I been to a lot of them.

In fact, the concept above, (^) is unsurprising. I've moved from all sides of the planet practically. My adoptive father, Anastagio Seraphin, has one of those jobs in which they have to relocate him constantly. And the ironic thing is, he acts like it's such a burden to move.

"Oh, the horror, I need to pack up all the things I have in my office and order these files, and restock this, and that."

Well, excuse me, Father, but you're not the one who has to go to a different school at any point and time and meet new teachers and students, as well as learn a multitude of languages to keep pace with all of these child-foreigners to me, whilst I, the foreigner to them. It's extremely taxing and rather difficult. I've gained the foresaid habits of both biting my nails right down to the quick out of nervousness, and not talking to anyone. I mean, if you knew you might not even be at a school for a week, would you speak to anyone? I think not.

And to also include in my spiel, it's hard to continue moving with the record I have. I have my days of being an absolute delinquent, but I also have my days of my prodigal genius. With an IQ I've been far too lazy to actually get measured by professionals, I can only assume I'm a genius from the work I put out in school, with minimum effort and my studying skills, or lack thereof.

And before I scare you, or force you into misinterpreting my father's work, please understand. He isn't in the Mafia – thank goodness. He's got a stereotypical office worker business job as a CEO. He's important in his field, though I really don't feel like educating you in the dull drabbles that consist primarily his boringly pitiful job. Trust me; you do not want to know.

My parents were in the Mafia. And please do notice that past tense (). It's there for several reasons, none of which I shall go into now. Bear with me on that one.

To conclude my little "This is Me" opener, I'm your average sixteen year old child, with randomly attractive facial and hair attributes, lots of schools, peers and moving, a horribly dull father (ouch) and parents formerly in the Mafia.

And here is me, just trying to live my life. Whilst also trying to balance the Mafia and every other thing my father decides to put on my plate. In essence, I'm a busy kid.

"Inaction breeds doubt and fear. Action breeds confidence and courage. If you want to conquer fear, do not sit home and think about it. Go out and get busy."

Well, it appears even fate would agree with me. Being busy exudes self-confidence. Maybe I'll actually get some. –Sighs –

And that's where I sign off – for now at least.

Ta-ta~!


A/N: And there it is: My prologue, which I like very, very much.

Please do review this story. Your perspectives on it right now will be the deciphering factor in my continuing it for now or not.

No pressure or anything.

Happy early Wednesday for me, lovies.

xoxo