Disclaimer: I own neither Tokyo Ghoul nor Katekyo Hitman Reborn
"Astra inclinant, sed non obligant."
No one in the Mafia really knew where he came from, or if he were truly human at all, but the man appeared suddenly one day, hands rested neatly across his chest in deep slumber. The employees of Mafialand spent little over a minute in visible panic when they found the body in one of the rooms in the castle, but soon calmed down under the composed charge of their supervisor.
"We are the Mafia! We've seen worse than dead bodies, so act like it!" The man had yelled with such strong conviction his Storm flames solidified. His men and women were quickly grouped and an ongoing investigation was on before even the Vongola caught on- and those bastards caught gossip quicker than a starving snake.
Doctors were called- Mafialand had connections to die for- and many came, except the infamous Trident Shamal himself despite the invite, but everyone knew of his detestable selectiveness when it came to his patients. Nevertheless, the colourful array of coated folks took their tests, scans and whatever it was they did and came up with nothing.
Nothing significant, the doctors would argue, because they weren't useless. (Blood tests or anything within that category were a red zone, the needle wouldn't pierce. Not even with Storm flames coating it.) The body was perfectly healthy from what tests they could take said. Plus, unique hair colouring wasn't uncommon in their line of work.
Sighs filled the room when they (also) couldn't tell if the man was an Active, or if he possessed Flames at all. One thing for sure, the body's temperature never changed no matter what they did, it was funnily constant; they've tried Flame exposure alongside changing the air-conditioning setting- nothing so much as a twitch.
The man didn't sweat nor eat or drink either. They've tried inserting feeding tubes but his skin was as impenetrable as a Lightning hardened Active and maybe stronger. Attempting to strip the body turned out to be a terrible idea. The white haired man was impossible to lift for them to drag the clothes off of him. Cutting the cloth proved useless. He was wearing stuff that were skin tight and more durable than dragon skin. The eerie mask that was set by his side on the bed side table remained ignored.
Gender, male, they wrote in their reports stained with funny liquids the Mafialand manager didn't want to think of. Hair, white; bodily status, healthy. Someone asked how the body got into Mafialand in the first place, only silence filled the room and at least 2 employees were sacked from negligence of their duties. Not a lot of that someone's colleagues liked him as much after that.
It hadn't been a pleasant time for the employees at Mafialand.
Like all proper bred and born Mafia folks, they had kept their guard up at first around the mysterious sleeping stranger. Watchers were arranged to guard the body, shifting every 6 hours or so. Days became weeks and it transitioned to months. The body hadn't even the need to shit or piss. Everyone (lazy) wanted guard duty by the end of the second month.
Then different Famiglias started to catch wind of their addition through the greenest grape vine and they treated it like the newest tourist attraction in their merry theme park. Sales increased, in a sense, the higher ups considered it all pleasantly until a cult started to form. Inside the occupied room, no less.
The founding member was a relatively popular unbounded Cloud philosopher who all but fainted by the body's feet for the entirety of 2 hours before he woke and screamed. The next thing the poor Suns in the infirmary knew, the demented Cloud ran towards the unnamed body like his life depended on it and prostrated himself in worship; he murmured soft praises and at one point of time, offered the lives of his enemies as an offering.
They escorted him out, showcasing a reluctant leniency when they hadn't banned the Cloud for all the trouble he caused. They excused it as the underground life getting to him, it wouldn't be the first strange reaction someone had to their kind of lifestyle.
Yet, when the first case turned two, three and the exact same incident occurred to twelve people by the end of that month alone, Mafialand denied visitors into the room where the dubbed 'sleeping king' slept. It was a suitable moniker, they'd decided, considering he slept so much.
Confusion peaked when Luce from the elusive Giglio Nero Famiglia pulled the shadiest of strings like a professional guitarist in order to meet Mafialand's latest headache. It took time, but the Sky managed to roll her way through their doors. Footsteps dainty, but no less anxious and powerful walked their corridors.
"There!" the guards around her heard her declare loudly when she arrives at her destination. Luce had pulled off the orange pacifier she kept around her neck and carefully tucked it between the neck and shoulder of the white-haired man's. "Now Vongola help us all." She ended dramatically. People were sputtering when the lady trying for a child stalked of gracefully, looking lighter than ever as if a great weight had been lifted off her back.
The orange pacifier glowed mockingly when people started to realise that it. Just. Wouldn't. Come. Off.
Morally questionable cults aside, powerful figureheads started pulling their own connections to catch a glimpse of the sleeping king after Luce's show. Mafia folks gossiped worse that bored housewives at times, and they were all curious housecats to top it off.
The (in)famous Vongola Ottavo strolled in like she owned the place when her calls finally made it past. Grinning smugly, the Storm Guardian by her side sighed weakly in contrast. The rest of his fellow guardians had thrown a fit when they were denied entry, he couldn't tell if it was a good thing when it'd only be him having to look after this troublemaking Sky of theirs. He prayed she wouldn't cause too much trouble.
The Storm grimaced at the image of paperwork continuing to pile back at headquarters, all of them have had enough sleepless nights.
Daniela's eyes gleamed excitedly when she finally saw the latest topic of gossip running through the Mafia. Taking a few steps forward, freezing had been the one thing she least expected to happen, falling into a familiar darkness became the second. One second was all Daniela had to brace herself against the tug at her mind, bitter Flames pulling her into the sleeping king's domain.
Somebody shrieked (Vongola's Storm in the highest pitch) when the woman suddenly fell over after being within a certain distance from the body.
Chaos erupted in a flurry of colours. One of the accompanying employee felt cold swear run down his spine. It was happening again- why didn't anybody ever read the sign?! And now, one of the most powerful Famiglia in the Mafia was going to be a cult member of an unexplained half-dead man residing on neutral grounds!
Daniela has never experienced drowning, but she thinks this is the closest she was going to get to it.
Her lungs were burning with oxygen deprivation as her brained whirled to think and get yourself out! A certain wetness touched her skin, the water felt cold. Yet, any form of escape from her current situation proved more than just difficult because she couldn't see nor hear, or even feel herself gargling for heaven's sake.
Sensory deprivation caked on top of drowning did not sound like the most dignified way to go, but Daniela didn't plan on giving up anytime soon. The proclaimed Goddess within her Famiglia thrashed and jerked her arms whenever she could. Ignoring the sharp pierce of cold that seeped through her bones. For a while, the black-haired lady had forgotten that the reason she was even there in the first place was due to a virtual pull of her soul.
Colours seemed to bleed into her world after what felt like more than a few dreadful hours. Daniela found herself in the middle of a homely looking café, signboard up behind the counter in numerous choices of coffee. She looked around her surroundings, appreciating the smooth colours of the wooden floor and the strong scent of coffee throughout the place.
Her fingers smoothed over the round edges of the tables and chairs in the café. Daniela had tried to exit through the door and windows but it was to no effect. It somewhat comforted her to know that the place was at least solid and real inside. Beyond the windows of wherever she was, had nothing but a wide expanse of sea.
Reaching across the crossed parting at one end of the café, Daniela took a seat after taking up one of the novels placed on the counter. It was in Japanese, but Daniela had learnt the language like all her ancestors did before her and proceeded unhindered. She had been through 3 pages when a soft voice shook her out of her book.
"it's a good book, isn't it? The Black Goat's Egg." Daniela couldn't help but think that the title sounded beautiful on his tongue. He said it reverently for one, gently, the Vongola head couldn't help but add. "Written by Takatsuki Sen. I don't know if she exists here, but she was my favourite author."
She took in the man's appearance. He looked young- college age- with strands of soft charcoal hair falling over one of his eyes that was covered by an eyepatch. Wearing a waiter's uniform, Daniela couldn't remember when the two newly made cups of steaming coffee was placed on the table.
"Who are you?" The woman asked sceptically.
"Kaneki Ken. Or, Ken Kaneki, if what the people said before was true." Ken said, grey eyes bright and kind. Something about him strongly reminded the woman about innocence and softness. An inherent urge to protect him surged. Who was this guy?
Daniela blinked once, "About what?" she asked, fingers tracing the mouth of the cup. "That we're currently in Italy!" Ken said excitedly. "I've never been to Italy before."
"Are you the one who brought me here? Take me back to Mafialand," The lady crossed her arms, "and I need to know about the relationship you have with the sleeping king."
Ken scratched his cheek, tucking his chin in and smiling bashfully. "U-um, yes… it was me that brought you to Anteiku, but it wasn't on purpose. I swear!" He started waving his hands around. "I was- I just wanted some company and the others weren't willing to wake up yet so…" He blushed, likely embarrassed. "A-and, could you tell me more about this 'sleeping king' please? I can't let you go until certain conditions are met, so we might as well talk."
Anteiku was probably the name of the café. Daniela came out with more questions than before after Ken's appearance. In a sense, she'd gotten one answer which was progress; Anteiku- the place where the scent of coffee was strong and the fond nostalgia lingering stronger. Not to mention, during one of the hours she'd spent here, Daniela felt like an intruder in a sacred space.
Yet, nothing more on the specifics of why she was here or who were the 'they' this Ken had mentioned. In addition to that, what were the conditions needed to get out of here? Daniela could feel her temper rising, she ended up taking a sip of that coffee. It tasted wonderful.
"The sleeping king is a man that is said to have appeared in Mafialand one fine day and never left. Or couldn't for that matter. Reports have told me that he was always asleep, never eating nor drinking. The toilet was unnecessary and nobody knows if he's an Active either." Daniela sighed. "I only came to visit the latest talk among the Mafia. I wasn't expecting to be taken… here."
Giving a sheepish chuckle, Ken Kaneki seemed to sip his drink in a way that told Daniela he was hiding something. She lifted a sharp brow, questioning without vocalising. "A-ah…" He said unintelligently afterwards. "I'm really sorry for the trouble we've caused, but I have to leave our body in your care for the time being. Thank you for the trouble." Ken bowed his head.
The Ottavo hid her shock at the admission (the similarities in appearance were limited, inside-out). "It's not me taking care of it, brat. Mafialand has your body, and they're neutral territory. I literally cannot do anything to your body."
"Eh?!" Came a shocked sputter. Ken ruffled his hair, turning up the effects of his aura innocence-softness-protect around him. "What am I going to say to the others now?" She heard him mumble to himself, face fixed into a wry expression.
"Who exactly are they? And you said 'we' earlier on. Are they more of you in here?"
Ken snapped his focus back to Daniela, hair flopping; it didn't escape Daniela's notice that he started playing with the string of his eyepatch in habit. "Yes." The young male smiled faintly. "But you won't see them, not now at least, if ever. The others can be pretty picky about who they let in their territories."
Registering the newest information, "Territories?" the woman repeated.
Nodding quickly, "Yeah! I mean, Haise lives in this really big house; and Centipede lives in this really dark place that smells a lot like blood. Shiro's chained up to his chair most of the time- I really don't understand why- oh." Ken paused mid-way. "I don't think I'm supposed to be telling you all this." He said sullenly.
"It's fine."
Rubbing the back of his head, Ken started his back on his cup, eyes cast downwards. "You feel very warm, Daniela-san." Sky influence, came immediately to her mind. The woman forcefully fought the urge to hug the male down. "It's also been very lonely around here. Ever since those people stopped coming in, it became really hard to forget what it's like to be lonely again."
Gently entwining her fingers, Daniela made sure to lean forward slowly as to not startle the kicked looking puppy donned in human skin. "I meant to ask," She started. Face pinched into a barely noticeable frown, "But what's your Flame type?"
Ken tilted his head. Clearly, he didn't look as if he understood what she had said. "Flames? What are those?"
"A manifestation of your Dying Will." Daniela explained patiently. Tipping out what she remembered from her tutors as a young girl. Ken was quick to catch on, showcasing a type of sharpness she hadn't caught before. Taking a glance at the small pile of books at the counter, she concluded that he was well-read, too.
Humming, "I see." The male said. He closes his eyes then, and brought up a dainty hand. Orange Flames danced on his palms, mischievous and warm and everything that made up a Sky. Daniela pursed her lips into a tight line and stopped herself before she did something stupid like gasp 'you're a Sky!' because obviously, he was.
A Sky, the lady thought to herself as Ken wiggled his fingers curiously. And a very powerful one at that. Stronger than my own.
Suddenly, the teen (because he couldn't possibly be older than 18) stormy grey eyes widened comically. "Ah!" He startled, dissipating the flame. Focusign his attention back to the Vongola, "Time's up, Daniela-san. I'm really grateful for you taking the time to talk to me. Come visit more often, yeah?" Ken practically chirped.
Nothing in the world could possibly explain the number of new questions that came up at the front of Daniela's mind when he told her so. "No- wait- what- I'll be back!" she gushingly blurted, a tug at her very soul whirling Daniela back into her real body.
Throughout all of Daniela's years as a Sky, waking up to the concerned face of her Elements had never made her feel so irritated. Daniela immediately pushed herself off the edge of the bed, legs wobbling slightly. Ignoring the shouts behind her, the Ottavo practically stormed her way through the number of bodies that dropped steadily underneath her ire. "Let me see that little brat!" Daniela yelled, accidently elbowing her Rain in the guts as she caught hold of her.
A very familiar employee groaned; 'The Vongola Ottavo has been converted!'
Kaneki was more than just happy when Daniela kept to her word and came back over and over again to talk with him. What once were suspicious and cynical looks soon transformed into something akin to warm endearment when Kaneki caught her staring. He had been word vomiting about one of his favourite books, Daniela looked at him now as though she found a long-lost son.
Not to forget, her open mention at him being cuter than even her present ones. It made something in Kaneki flutter. His mother had been- he wouldn't think about it, not now.
Nevertheless, the latest of Daniela's drop-by made Kaneki smile earnestly. The woman's erratic but assured visits eased the ache of being ripped away from his friends and family by choice. Jerking away from the cup of coffee he'd been drinking, Kaneki decided that he didn't really want to think about that either.
The Ghoul allowed his Kagune to flair and stretch for a bit. His newest friend had just left- after her 12th visit now. It made Kaneki's Rinkaku twirl about excitedly at the memory of when Daniela promised to bring along a good friend of hers the next time they met up. His name was Renato Sinclair, if Kaneki weren't mistaken; the woman said he absolutely had to meet him.
Ah, they needed to wake up soon. Centipede was the least rational in his hunger.