A/N: Short. Short. Short drabble fic, since I can't think of anything to write in my report right now.

White Hair

Squalo stood before him, his face serious and the shadows dancing across his face. He began explaining.

"Listen, the path of the sword is...VOIIII! Are you listening, you brat?"

Yamamoto snapped out of his daze.

It was their third day away from the Vongola Base. He had committed himself to the sword, and Squalo's training was going to begin. He was looking forward to it really, but sitting in the woods, away from him, away from his friends was somewhat lonely.

"Haha...sorry, I was just thinking of something," he grinned sheepishly. "Continue..."

"You better not be thinking about baseball," Squalo warned, his eyes staring hard at him, checking if his resolution was still firm. "You won't get through my training with that fake resolve of yours."

He shook his head. "No, I'm seriously devoted to the sword this time," he told him. "I was just wondering about the others."

"VOOOIII! Now's not the time to think about them! Think about getting stronger! Think about the sword!" Squalo shouted. This is also one of the brat's weaknesses, he was too kind.

"Hai, hai!" Yamamoto nodded cheerfully, promising that he would not lose his focus.

Although five minutes later, the teenager was caught spacing out again.

A vein was popping on Squalo's forehead. The brat had not heard a single word he said. He hates repeating himself. "What is your problem you damn brat? I'm seriously going to kill you!"

"Nothing, it's just that..."

"That?"

"Your hair..."

Squalo consciously flipped his hair. "What about it?" he hissed. He had noticed that the brat had been staring at it for some time too.

Yamamoto flashed an easygoing grin.

"It reminds me of someone,"

"HAAAA!" he shouted in frustration, looking up at the sky. He had an idea of who the person is, the older Yamamoto had also mentioned this to him before. He couldn't believe the younger one would also tell this to him, now of all times!

The teenager comfortably laid his back on the log behind him. "You two are really similar." It wasn't just the hair, the way they always yell at him was also the same.

Squalo's hand was shaking like he wants to wring his neck. Honest brat has no sense of embarrassment. This is why he hates teenagers! Damn hormones getting in the way. When Yamamoto continued to look at him wistfully (and he could tell he was still thinking of that person) he reached for something on his back.

It was the first time Squalo put his hood up.

A/N: LOL. Guess who? I'm having withdrawal symptoms. More KHR!