AN: WHAT'S UP GUYS BRB AS I SPAM THE KHR ARCHIVE WITH MY WEIRD CRACKY SHIT. And Shoichi is angry in this fic yep yep.

Also there needs to be more shoichi/lambo friendship fics what's wrong with you all with your weird 1827 shit okay shutting up now

Shoichi and Tsuna are about fifteen/sixteen and Lambo is six. This is set after all the time travelling shit.

Irie Shoichi was abruptly woken up at precisely eight in the morning by an insistent knocking on his front door. And coincidentally, he'd been woken up in the exact same way for -hm, how long was it now?

The past freaking week.

He yawned and smoothed down his bed head, trying to make it look somewhat acceptable, and grabbed his glasses from his bedside table, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes before shoving the frames sloppily onto his face. He stumbled down the stairs, holding onto the handrail and muttered something about 'oh god not again I can't remember the last time I slept properly doesn't he ever go to school for god's sake'. As he reached the door, almost falling down the last few steps, he took a deep breath, mentally preparing himself for what was to come.

Shoichi's hand shook slightly as he grasped onto the door handle. 'There's nothing to be afraid of,' he told himself nervously as he pulled the handle and opened the door-

And there was nothing there except for a brunette which he was way too familiar with.

"Oh, good morning, Shoichi-kun," Tsuna greeted him somewhat worriedly, looking at something near the bottom of the door. A tuft of black hair poked out from the edge and both Shoichi's and Tsuna's blood pressure shot up immediately as it began to shake. Grabbing the hair, Tsuna yanked it up, revealing Lambo with a bloody gash on his forehead and huge glassy eyes. His lips trembled and tears threatened to spill out. Tsuna sighed and pushed the child into Shoichi's waiting arms, apologising profusely before he turned to leave. "Um, I have to leave him here again. I hope it's not too much trouble! Thanks again, Shoichi-kun!"

In the deep, dark depths of Shoichi's mind, he began to sob. Yet again, Tsuna had left him with the devil child, a cow brat from hell. He waved at the brunette's retreating figure, calling after him (although he had a feeling that he being ignored, even though Tsuna was still pretty close to the house. He liked to think it was some kind of weird ear defect that made Tsuna ignore him instead of just being, you know, plain and outright rude.), "Not a problem, Tsunayoshi-kun."

Not a problem for the said male, that is. Jesus, maybe it would've been better if he hadn't stopped to fix that goddamn tyre that started all this. Damn his idiotic 'good Samaritan' urges.

"Shoichiiiiiiiiiii, I'm bored!" yawned Lambo, breaking the redhead from his train of thought. Lambo was picking his nose now (so maybe he was just faking the tears. Kids were kind of douchebaggy like that.) and he took his finger out from his nostril (after giving it a good swirl, of course. It was bad to waste food.), flicking it at a nearby vase of wilting flowers. "Play with me!"

Shoichi yawned as well (earning a loud, "Hey! Why are you copying Lambo-san?"), pretending he didn't see Lambo do that utterly repulsive act, and carried Lambo into the living room, dumping him on the sofa cushion. He took out a box of plasters from the coffee table (Shoichi often came home with bruises, usually from falling over rocks and people's feet) and took a strip out. "Do you want Scooby-Doo?"

Lambo nodded enthusiastically. Shoichi had a feeling Lambo intentionally hurt himself to get a Scooby-Doo plaster because Lambo had some sort of freaky boner for the said cartoon dog. He tore one off and slapped it on the cow child's face. "I'm gonna go upstairs and brush my teeth, okay? Just watch some television or something," he said tiredly, handing the plastic remote to the child. Lambo grabbed it excitedly and pressed all the buttons with the palm of his hand, laughing like a maniac as he did so.

Note to self, thought Shoichi, kill Lambo before he can come over again.

By the time Shoichi came back downstairs, the room was trashed. As per usual. What the hell had Lambo been doing? Shoichi's eyes darted from side to side, searching for the cow child. Cushions were strewn all over the place and a pot of flowers had been knocked down from the windowsill. "Lambo! Where are you?" called Shoichi, turning over the bin in the corner.

A muffled yell came from the other side of the room. "Shoichiiiiiiiii! Help meeeeee!"

Shoichi rushed over to a heap of cushions stacked messily on top of each other and he started to throw them off, one by one. Sadly, he wasn't exactly the most athletic of people and this took a considerable amount of time. Curse my stupid weak body, Shoichi thought angrily, and then he yelped out loud as he stubbed his toe on the remote which reminded him that the television was still on. He stopped grabbing the cushions (he had thrown five off already - he only had ten more to go) and picked up the offending item. Turning around to switch it off, he was greeted with a sight he wasn't pleased to see.

He screamed.

The screen was filled with dead bodies.

And blood. Lots of blood.

What the hell had Lambo been watching?

"L-Lambo! Y-You shouldn't be watching things like thiiiiiiiis-!" He shriek-scolded Lambo who had, by now, climbed his way out of the cushions. The sound coming from the television suddenly changed from an ominous humming to screams and Shoichi almost shit himself, jumping to cover Lambo's eyes with his hands. "Don't look, Lambo!"

Of course, like all annoying little kids, this had the opposite effect on the cow child. He tried to tear Shoichi's hand off his face, yelling, "Lambo-san wants to see!" After a few attempts, he flung Shoichi's hand away (and it slapped the said teenager in the face) and stared at the screen. "Oh, Lambo-san's seen this before! It's not scary at all! Gyahahaha, Shoichi's such a wimp!" Lambo cackled noisily, snatching the remote from Shoichi.

Oh my god, Shoichi screamed in his mind. He was this close to ripping out his hair and crapping bricks all over the place. The gory scenes from the television had been etched into his mind. Thanks a lot, Lambo. How was he supposed to sleep now? To make things worse, a six year old was stronger than him (but he liked to think it was Lambo who was freakishly strong instead of him being freakishly weak). He sighed, somewhat recovered from the 'traumatic' experience he just had, and picked Lambo up, quickly turning the television off. Stuffing it into his pocket, he collapsed onto the sofa and sat Lambo next to him. "What do you want to do now?" he asked.

"Tell me a story!" Lambo said, grinning. He leapt onto Shoichi's lap, the top of his afro (and what looked like a pink grenade- oh god why) tickling Shoichi's chin. "Tell me a story about…" he paused, thinking for a moment. Then, he grinned again. "Tell me a story about Lambo-san!"

Lambo was the mostnarcissistic six year old ever.

"Fine…" Shoichi said, defeated. Lambo was weird. His brain was weird. The things he did was weird (okay, so he laughed at a horror film (Shoichi made a mental note to yell at his sister for watching such bullshit) at first and now he wanted to hear a story? Not to mention it was about himself. These things practically screamed normal six year old.) and everything about him in general was just kind of weird.

He racked his brains for something that could pass as a story. "Um, once upon a time…"

"BLUGH," Lambo interrupted, pretending to throw up. "Lambo-san doesn't want a fairy tale! They're for wimps!"

Maybe if you'd let me finish, Shoichi thought, trying his best not to glare at Lambo. "One day, there was a superhero who was called Lambo…" Well shit, what was he supposed to do now? It wasn't like he was a fountain of creativity or whatever those popular kids called it these days. "And he had a grenade and he threw it at an alien and the alien exploded and Tsunayoshi's mama came in and made Lambo the superhero a nice piece of beef- er, chicken to eat. The end."

Also, Shoichi learnt something new today.

Lambo snored like a pig.

When Tsuna came to pick Lambo up, all battered and tired and shit, Lambo jumped onto his face and clung on for dear life. Snot hung out of his nose and stuck on Tsuna's face as he wailed, "Shoichi's food is nasty!"

"Lambo! That's not very nice!" Tsuna replied half-heartedly (but then again, Lambo wasn't a nice kid) and pulled him off, wiping his face with his sleeve. "Sorry, Shoichi-kun! And thanks for looking after Lambo. I know it's not the easiest job."

Oh my god, you just noticed.

Shoichi forced a smile onto his face. "No problem! Bring him over anytime! I like playing with Lambo!"

I also like lying! Hahahaha OH MY GOD DON'T EVER BRING HIM OVER AGAIN OR I WILL KILL MYSELF.

Tsuna smiled back, ignoring Lambo's cries of "SHOICHI FED ME VEGETABLES ARE YOU LISTENING TSUNAAAAAAAAA" and handed Shoichi a bag. "A thank you present," he said, holding Lambo's hand in his. "We'll be going now. I don't want to bother you longer than necessary."

One second is longer than necessary.

"Not a problem!" Shoichi repeated, taking the bag. He waved goodbye to Tsuna and Lambo before slamming the door shut, breathing a sigh of relief. The devil child was gone and he was free to do his robot shit and fap to hentai. Not that he did the latter, of course.

Of course. Who did you think he was? Some kind of Hibari wannabe?

Then, he tripped over the bag Tsuna gave him. Was Tsuna some kind of super freak? He didn't know anyone else who could cause trouble when they weren't even there (apart from Lambo who he needed to thank for many sleepless nights). Peering into the bag, he could make out something that looked like a box. A box of fruits. He took it out, inspecting it inch by inch. Thirty by thirty by ten centimetres in size, about five hundred grams in weight and oops, his inner geek had appeared again. It seemed safe enough and besides, he was a little hungry, so he took one out. It was a green apple and did he mention green apples were his absolute favourites? He took a bite, congratulating Tsuna for doing something right and-

He spat it out. They tasted like shit. Were they mouldy? Was he going to die? (Thanks a lot, Tsuna. Thanks for making me so polite and thanking everything today. I love you so much, you huge dickwad son of a whore.) The shit was spreading into all parts of his mouth and he scrunched up his face in pain because it tasted like pain and pain was not good. (His sister actually came in at this moment and asked him, "Are you jizzing?" He replied by flipping his middle finger at her.) He picked up the box again to check for ingredients when he noticed a little yellow Post-it note attached to the outside of the bag. And the bag was yellow.

JESUS. YOU COULD'VE TOLD ME EARLIER.

"Hi Shoichi," he read aloud between coughs, "I bought you some wax fruit decorations as a thank you gift! I hope you enjoy them colon capital d OH MY GOD."

Shoichi wanted to cry.

'Today, my six year old friend's snot stuck on my face. FML so hard.'

'Today, a six year old laughed at a horror film then made me tell a story to him about himself. And then his guardian gave me wax candles. Which I ate. FML.'

'Today, I found out my six year old friend's babysitter used the same website as I use to complain about him. FML.'