AN: This one is a little longer, but due to my short attention span, it's still not as long as I'd like. If I work on something for too long, though, I get bored and hurry through it to finish and it turns out not very good. But that's no excuse, I work on it.
I really love writing Xanxus, he's my favorite character of KHR. I hope I did okay on this. You can see it as XS if you want, I really don't know what I think of it myself. Reviews are much appreciated!!
Why is it that earphones ALWAYS find a way to get all knotted up? I swear to you, I was just sitting still and when I glance down at my iPod Touch, LO AND BEHOLD, a tangled mess of wire for me to pick apart...
xxx
Standing by Xanxus's side was a decision that Squalo never regretted, not once in his life. Biting insults and shattered glasses of liquor could do absolutely nothing to make his loyalty to the man falter. Though Squalo acknowledged the Varia's boss was a conceited brat, making a fuss and throwing a fit over any little thing done not to his liking, his devotion to Xanxus was unshakeable.
To put it simply, Xanxus was powerful. Ambitious. His raw strength and determination knew no bounds, and those traits alone were more than enough to lure rowdy boys to his side; boys much like Squalo himself, young and strong and seeking the thrill of putting their lives on the line for the sake of flaunting their impressive talent. Squalo lost a hand and Xanxus gained a fierce follower. But that was then, their teenage years. Boys grow into men, priorities change, but loyalties are never severed.
As a young adult, Squalo had admired the fury in his boss. Years had passed Xanxus by, terrible truths about his past had been discovered, and from that fateful moment on, the rage in Xanxus flared uncontrollably, burning wildly like Hell ablaze. The ferocity in his crimson eyes was awe-inspiring, and it served to fuel the flames of Squalo's devotion. Though his grounds for fighting were much different than in his teenage years, the man driving him forward remained his unbreakable anchor.
Even as he found himself wheelchair bound and at gunpoint, watching his indomitable leader crumble in the hands of a pitiful child, his dedication to Xanxus never failed him. Squalo had waited patiently for eight agonizingly long years, anxiously anticipating the return of that formidable strength which had motivated him to follow Xanxus. Though the scarred man lay battered and beaten at the young Vongola's feet, the silver-haired swordsman felt nothing but glowing pride. This was good, this was necessary. This defeat was the gasoline to the blaze of Xanxus's forever growing ire.
But that night Squalo had noticed a flaw in his boss that was not present before.
Squalo had discovered a side of his boss that left him dumbfounded. He was at a loss for words and utterly shocked as he continued to rake his mind for even the smallest of explanations as to what he had unearthed. He was taken back to that night some blurry years ago, when the Vongola Decimo had crushed Xanxus like an insect. But it made sense, and the more Squalo deconstructed the words his boss had spoken during that battle, the more evident it became. Vulnerability. All those years at war with humanity, sice his teenage days, had been the consequence of a crippling vulnerability. His fury, his staggering tenacity, those stinging words, the countless shards of crystal that Squalo had fussily picked out of his long hair; all those things had served as a mask for that one potentially fatal flaw.
Xanxus had been betrayed, after all. He had been hurt. He had since birth been spoon fed wonderful lies, false promises of glory, and he had greedily devoured them without question. He grew to believe he was destined to become Vongola Decimo, that the title had been tailored to fit only him. But he had been betrayed. All those vows from his delusional mother and that senile old man had been snatched from him with a single, infuriating truth: the blood that coursed through his veins contained not one tiny drop of Vongola.
Could Xanxus really be blamed? He was not born the embodiment of limitless fury, an irate time bomb ready to detonate and demolish every hindrance that kept him from what was rightfully his. He had been made that way by the man who had smiled upon him and promised him the world. Unconditional love? The idea was absurd.
All Xanxus really desired was praise, no? He wanted to be worshiped as the greatest boss to ever head the Vongola Famiglia, and Squalo, the world, God himself knew all too well that the only thing impeding him from accomplishing his goal was his dreadful vulnerability. His inability to trust, to believe in those around him out of fear of being hurt again kept him second to the child who was to become Vongola Decimo.
Despite Xanxus's one weakness, Squalo's devotion to his boss never faltered. He knew in his mind, his heart, in every fiber of his being, that Xanxus would overcome. His flaw paled in significance when compared to his unlimited power, his fierce ambition. Until the day Xanxus received the praise he so desperately craved, the glory that came with the title that belonged only to him, Squalo would stand by his side. His devotion to Xanxus was unshakeable.