Chapter 1: In Which There is Emilio OR: "Emilio Discovers His Anger Powers" OR: Disloyal Order of Water Buffaloes

Boycott love

Detox just to retox

And I'd promise you anything for another shot at life

And perfect boys with their perfect lives

Nobody wants to hear you sing about tragedy

(Wants to hear you sing about tragedy)

Xanxus hadn't actually known he was Xanxus(and all the name entailed)until he was six. Before he became Xanxus, he was Emilio.

Emilio was a poor, intelligent street rat, born to an equally poor and mentally ill mother. Oh, for the first three or four years of his life he hadn't been on the streets thanks to a collection of youth hostels, sure, but soon his mother hadn't been able to afford it. So, they lived on the streets. During winter they took shelter in literal garbage(a fact that, at first, had horrified the woman-boy but he soon sucked it up because there was no choice)and in the summer they slept in cool backstreets.

Emilio and his mother were always moving, always looking for food or money. The little boy had taken to pick pocketing early on and stealing fruits and such from stands. Sometimes, he begged older women for spare change(his face was so young and cute that they couldn't help but take pity). He did anything and everything to keep himself and his mother fed.

It wasn't always enough. On bad days, when the sky was gray and people deigned to stay inside, Emilio simply went without food and scavenged for his disturbed mother. She didn't seem to notice that he hadn't eaten(she didn't even know days of the week-and neither did Emilio but that was mostly due to a lack of calendar)and went on with her usual business-of which Emilio was sure he didn't want to know about. His mother usually disappeared on him but she always managed to find him again, no matter the circumstances.

It really helped when the local animals-mostly alley cats and a few dogs-seemed to take a liking to the child. They shared their kills with him and in return he gave them affection and protection from other children and adults. They were a tight knit family, and when Emilio had to move on to different streets, the cats usually followed after him. His mother didn't notice except during the cold nights when the cats would share their body heat with the two of them.

(Emilio's cats didn't really like his mother but they tolerated her because of his affection for her.)

The combination of his new life and the stress of finding food left Emilio a bitter, angry child. He remembered what it was like to live in a warm house, remembered eating at least three or four meals a day. God, he remembered simply living without a care, without worrying about where he was going to sleep or where his next meal was going to come from.

(Really, fuck all those people who saw him and did nothing to help. He didn't need pity, he needed food.)

It was no surprise, then, on a particularly bad day that he accidentally lit himself on fire. Really, it happened to everyone at some point! There was nothing odd about the fact that he was on fire. He was just being stupid and was irritated beyond belief(there may have been angry tears involved at some point)and then-!

Fire! His hands were on FIRE! As if that was a normal, everyday occurrence!

(Privately, he was very fucking freaked the fuck out thank you very much. But, also, the fact that he was on fire and not burning to death tickled his memory. There was a boy-Sawada Tsunayoshi?-who was part of the mafia? Dying Will Flames? Was that-)

He only managed to stop crying when his cats showed no fear of the fire. They purred against him and even touched his flaming hands. They didn't get burned by it, a feat that he was surprised by. His flaming hands hadn't caused their untimely death and were actually quite warm.

(Emilio knew he couldn't show this to his mother-not yet anyway. There was something eerily familiar about all of this.)

Abruptly, the flame vanished without so much as a trail of smoke. Emilio angrily wiped at the tears and sat on his haunches. The filthy, mangy cats crowded around him and attempted to comfort the five year old. Emilio picked one of the smaller, younger ones up and held it to his chest, burying his face in the surprisingly soft fur.

His mind was whirling at the overload of information that currently ran through it. The fire-Dying Will Flames, a high density form of energy refined from one's own life force-was something he could use. It could benefit him in ways he hadn't yet conceived of.

Emilio was a street brat. He was dirty and poor and sometimes ate dead rats just to soften the blow of the ever-present hunger in his stomach. People looked at him in pity and thinly veiled disgust. His mother was mentally ill and couldn't hold down any kind of job. His father was probably a rapist, if his mother's ramblings were to be believed. His only friends and companions were a herd of overly attached cats(and a few dogs)that helped him steal food from vendors. He was only five years old but he might as well have been thirty. He had dreams about another life, where he was a happy, smart woman with a stable job and a warm home to return to. Emilio might have been as insane as his mother because of that last fact, but there was no denying that he didn't feel like a child at all.

(But, he thought fiercely, he would not be weak. Emilio was strong and cunning, and he would be better than those people who sneered at him. He would rise above those who denied his existence. He would not be trash. He would not be scum.

He.

Would.

Be.

King.)

(His Flame burned brightly once more, fueled by his rage.)

Omake: A Day in the Life of a Beggar

Emilio knew today was going to be a good day. It was peak tourist season and there were plenty of older women to con. Hurriedly, the cunning five year old mussed his hair and bit his lip hard enough to bleed. Tears welled up in his eyes and he sucked on the wound lightly to hid the blood. A crying, dirty five year old with a cute face was guaranteed to receive anything from a woman with a bleeding heart.

He scanned the crowd through his tears and stumbled toward an American woman in her thirties. She had a baby with her, and Emilio knew for a fact that mothers were the easiest targets for him.

"Posso avere i soldi?" he asked the woman once he was close enough. He sniffled and wiped his nose with the sleeve of his filthy coat. The woman glanced at him in confusion and dug through her belongings. She took out an English-Italian dictionary and flipped through it with long, thin fingers.

"Ah, puoi ripetere la domanda, per favore ragazzo?" she asked slowly of him. Emilio could have asked her in English but he really should learn his own native language.

"Posso avere i soldi?" he said, slow enough that she could look up each word. The woman took a moment to translate then nodded with a smile.

"Of course sweetie," she replied in English, sympathy coloring her tone. Emilio shuffled and stared at her toddler in distracted curiosity. The baby stared back and the older boy jerked his head away.

"Grazie," he mumbled, kissing the woman's hand as she handed him a few euro. He stuffed the money in his jacket pocket and waddled off, waving his thanks. The woman waved back, seemingly sad about his appearance. Emilio grit his teeth in frustration and scanned the crowd for his next target.

(He hated-loathed-begging for money but he had no choice. His mother-his mother wasn't fit to raise a child on the streets and he had to do something to provide for them.)

(But, it was worth it at the end of the day to see his mother's face when he presented her with the euro he'd begged out of well-meaning women. They were able to stay at a hostel and clean themselves for a week with the amount he'd made!)

(Years later, when he was Xanxus the Varia Boss, he'd see children as filthy as he'd been and he'd rent out entire hotel rooms and herd them into the glamorous rooms. Yeah, he was Xanxus, but that didn't necessarily mean he was without sympathy or empathy. And to think his stupid subordinates thought he spent that money on meat or wine!)

(Well, he did spend a ton of dirty money on his fine wines. Xanxus was just not Xanxus without his raging alcoholism.)

This might be slower in updates than The Curious Case of Mami Kozato. Usually, I like to spew out several chapters to tide me over when motivation/inspiration is at a low but I got impatient and published this ahead of time. I only have the one chapter for now, and the beginnings of a second one in the works. I am really excited for this story, since it involves Xanxus and headcanons. Xanxus will still be angry but he'll be even more cunning than normal. A deadly combination. Xanxus is also gonna have CRISES because really, when you know for a fact that you can't inherit but have to pretend you don't know that you can't inherit well-that leads to things like questioning the universe.
I can't wait to get to the Sky Battle-several, several chapters away from now. OOOOH the stuff I have planned for this story! I'm so excited. Included an omake because I felt this was too short lol.

Translations for the omake:

Posso avere i soldi: Can I have money?

Puoi ripetere la domanda, per favore ragazzo?: Can you repeat the question, please boy?

Grazie: Thank you

Next chapter: Emilio-Xanxus makes a mistake and becomes Xanxus.