Title: A Day in the Life of the Scorpling
Author: Shaariin13
Words: 443 (details and A/Ns exclusive)
Prompt: None. I guess I just wanted something fluffy (and a weeeee bit angsty) for Bianchi, and since her birthday fic was 1 month early, I guess this is a post-birthday fic?
Fandom: Kateikyoushi! Hitman Reborn
Characters/Pairings: 12 year old Bianchi, 6 year old Hayato
Rating: K+ for family fluff and a little angst
Warnings: family fluff, some angst, 2nd person point of view
Summary: "Andrea, I'm home!" The moment you step into the music room, you stop and smile. Drabble, BianchixHayato sibling!fic, no pairings. Omake for 'The Scorpion's Den'. Angst/Family
A/N: You could say that this is an omake for "The Scorpion's Den". I just want to write something for Lady Fia, lols. Also featuring Young Master Andrea. I know it's supposed to be fluffy, but these just have so many issues in their lives I couldn't resist the angst. Read on~
Disclaimer: Amano owns all. I'm just playing with her characters and giving them traumatic backstories with fluffy omakes XP
A Day In the Life Of The Scorpling
"Andrea!" You call at the top of your lungs, looking for your six-year old little brother. You just got home from another of your mother's overseas trips and are excited to see your adorable fratellino, not to mention you are anxious to give him a little something that you brought home for him.
"Andrea, I'm home!" The moment you step into the music room, you stop and smile.
Andrea was on the upright piano he loved so much to the point he actually named it Cara or 'Dear'.
Whenever the little silver-haired boy played, a small smile plays on his face, and his ever-changing eyes turn into a clear spring green, a welcome change to the cold jade they usually are after he turned three.
You frown, knowing what had triggered the change: a beautiful young woman named Lavina Gokudera. She had flowing silver hair and expressive silver-green eyes. You know that she was connected to Andrea somehow, since she started visiting when the little boy came home with your father. But she seemed harmless and, somehow, you trusted her.
She stopped coming three years ago.
You shake your head and take a deep breath. You tackle the little boy from behind, creating jarring notes and ear-splitting crashes.
"Andrea, I'm home," you tell him in Italian, squeezing the life out of him in the process.
"We-Welcome home, S-Sorella," he greets back, breathless.
"I brought something for you," you say as you let him go and grab the parcel you were holding onto.
"W-What is it?" he asks as he eyes the bag wearily (and warily). "It's not something you cooked, is it?"
You giggle at his question. "Nope, it's not. But if you wanted my cooking instead…"
"N-No!" he cuts off, seeming in a panic. "I-I mean… You just got home, right? You should just rest and leave the food to Cook."
You smile at his 'thoughtfulness' and engulf him into another bear hug. "Aw, Andrea, you're so sweet!"
Before your little brother faints from the lack of air, you shove the little package under his nose. "Here you go!"
He unravels the twine and parts the brown wrapping paper cautiously before his eyes widen into comic proportions and he proceeds in tearing the wrappings off.
"You got me sheet music?" he asks in an awed voice. "They're even those really old, hard to find ones…" he breathes.
His breathing accelerates and his hands shake just slightly. Before you worry that your little brother might start hyperventilating, he throws his arms around you (the music carefully maneuvered from being rumpled).
"Grazie, Sorella!" he says to your shoulder. "Grazie molto!"
You smile. "Prego, Fratellino."
