Drunk Tsuna or "Let's Talk?"
Original Author (Russian): Pipistrello
Original Source: Ficbook
Translated by: 0Oo The River Witch oO0
Summary: Because when the Tenth Vongola boss becomes truly fed up and, most inconveniently, gets drunk, no one knows what will happen. Obviously, whatever it is, it can't be pleasant, especially for those who face the Vongola Decimo's righteous wrath. Drunk!Boss!Tsuna
Characters: Sawada Tsunayoshi, Vongola, Varia, Dino.
Warnings: OOC, alcohol, language. This fic is forbidden from taking seriously (officially from the fic author.)
Disclaimers: KHR belongs to lovely Amano Akira, 'Пьяный Тсуна или "Поговорим?"' принадлежит совершенно замечательной и чудесной Pipistrello, translation belongs to me.
As always, the meeting of the Guardians of the almighty Vongola started at around 11:30 AM. At the moment though, it was already 12:00 and almost every Guardian was assembled in the hall where meetings were usually held. At exactly twelve in the afternoon, with an imposing stride and a cheeky smile plastered over his face, Rokudo Mukuro practically floated into the room, faking an apologetic tone.
"Oh, my dear boss, I apologize for my lateness, please forgive me, I've been hurrying so much and yet I haven't been able t..."
Mukuro trailed off when he noticed the armchair to which his words were addressed was quite very empty.
"Oya? And where is our dear boss?" He asked with a note of puzzlement.
"I have the same question," Hibari Kyouya spat coldly. "You're late, herbivore douchebag."
"Oya oya, Kyouya-kun, have I been promoted?" Rokudo snorted. "From an ordinary herbivore to an herbivore douchebag – why, I suppose I can be very proud with myself. Kufufufu~"
"Oi! Shut your mouths, you bastards!" Gokudera shouted irritably. "Juudaime is never late without a reason so it must be something serious. When he gets here, I'm sure Juudaime will explain everything."
The Guardians understood – Hayato was right. Tsuna was very punctual about meetings and life in general and was almost never late. That's why such a lengthy delay was at least slightly alarming.
Thankfully, barely five minutes have passed after the passionate tirade of the 'right-hand man' when the door finally opened with a quiet creak and there, in all his unspeakable glory, appeared the Tenth Vongola Boss.
Standing in the doorway, he slightly wobbled, gripping the knob with his right hand and in his left hand clenching some sort of rope, the end of which was hidden as it stretched out of sight behind him.
Always smartly dressed, right now the Sawada offered a very funny sight indeed. His tie, usually done with care and precision, was now slightly unknotted and thrown carelessly over his shoulder. The buttons of his shirt were fastened completely wrong, so the shirt stuck at odd angles while his suit hung off one of his shoulders.
A silent wave of shock swept through the room and the people inside.
The Tenth gazed at each and every one of his Guardians heavily and, appearing much too sardonic for his character, giggled.
"Oh~! Look who's here. My battle six, all here, all together," his tongue slurring and hiccuping, the boss exclaimed, "And even Mukuro has graced us with his holy presence. What an honor."
"Juudaime!" Hayato shrieked as he sprung from his seat, "Are you alright, Juudaime?"
"Shhhhh!" Tsuna hissed at his 'right hand'. "Please don't shout, Gokudera, everything's fiiine. We just... Etooo... Er... Well, we just had a teensy weensy bit with the horse."
"Juudaime, what horse? Are you okay?!"
"What do you mean, 'what horse'? The Cavallone Bucephalus of course. Ugh, come on, I was with Dino for god's sake – he stopped by so we decided to celebrate and, you know, remember the good times." He hiccuped and slightly careened to his left, though he thankfully caught himself and steered back upright as he jabbed his index finger to the ceiling. "But! I haven't forgotten about the meeting." Tsuna said, still not stepping into the room. "...But that's not important. I came here for a reason – I want to introduce you to someone. Something. Whatever."
And so, Tsuna slowly pulled the rope that he was holding and from out of the doorway showed a stack of papers, approximately forty centimeters in width. The Vongola boss smiled in a very disturbing manner.
"Here, I introduce to thee, the reports of your, my darlings, doings, in just the last three weeks." Tsuna, tugging the rope curtly again, put the 'new acquaintance' in front of himself for the hall to see.
"Reports-san, please, I introduce to you my eagles, and right now, we are now going to have a lovely chat." The Tenth smiled even wider if that was possible, though his speech was mostly botched up by his uncontrollable tongue. Nevertheless, he candidly pulled his 'new acquaintance' along and walked determinedly, albeit dangerously staggering, to his chair in the head of the table.
The quite zonked underlings silently watched how their boss coursed to his place and even though he was known to be quite often 'degustating' expensive alcohol when he locked up in his bedroom, especially lately, this was the first time the Guardians have seen their boss like THIS. Even Hibari seemed to be slightly surprised, judging by his slightly widened eyes and a raised eye brow.
Finally connecting with the chair, Tsuna dragged the stack of papers off from the floor and onto the table and, once again giving a long look at each of those present, frowned darkly, in what might be distinguished as disgust.
"Juudaime!" Hayato took off from his seat again. "Maybe I should bring you some water?"
"Kufufufu~" The Mist spoke up. "No, I believe he won't be needing any water. Better bring him some chapmaign – it'll be much more entertaining for everyone."
"You..." Gokudera growled but was interrupted by the Sawada.
"I'd suggest you shut up, Mukuro. You've got at least fifty pages on yourself – and don't worry, we will certainly get to them. Today, gentlemen, you will all pay for your sins. Why, you ask? Correct – because you've fucking pissed me off!"
The boss leaned into his chair and closed his eyes. But after only a minute, he suddenly opened them and straightened sharply. He put his hands on the table in a business-like manner and tried to put on a serious expression, but seeing as he was 'slightly' tipsy, it looked quite amusing.
"Now then, how will we start the exescunt... Enxecu...eskexu... Tch! Oi, Gokudera, how's it again? Exe..."
"Execution, Juudaime." Hayato provided his boss helpfully.
"Right! Exencution." Tsuna couldn't pronounce it right after all. "Anooo... Who shall we start with. Oh! I know. Good old rhymes – Dino taught me this one," Tsuna jabbed his finger at each of his Guardians and said,
"Intry, mintry, cutry, corn
Apple seed and apple thorn
Wire, briar, limber, lock
Five geese in a flock
One flew east, one flew west,
and one flew over the cuckoo's nest
Out, with a dirty dishcloth, out!"
By the end of the rhymes, the Tenth's finger was pointed at a face-in-the-table, blissfully sleeping Lambo.
"Hehehehe! And here's our very first victim," Tsuna sang stupidly and hummed something quite akin to a funeral march. "Cough... Ow, look at that, my throat's all dry. Gokudera, be a dear and bring me some water."
The Storm Guardian reacted immediately and in five seconds, a glass of water was standing firmly in front of Tsuna. He took it into a hand, twirled it around contemplatively, drank a bit of the water, and then, to everyone's big surprise, threw it at Lambo with all his strength.
"Wake up, Stupid Cow!" Sawada yelled roughly. "Or how does Xanxus have it? Why the fuck are you sleeping on a fucking meeting, you piece of trash!?" He growled menacingly.
The glass sailed over the table and with a dull bang collided against the long-suffering head of the Lightning Guardian, dousing the latter with cold water. The glass's quite sad life ended on the floor as a pile of shards. That quickly pulled Lambo from Morpheus's embraces and, incomprehensibly rubbing the bump he received and wiping away the water off his face, he stared with horror at his boss.
"What're you looking at, Bovino?" Tsuna hissed harshly through his teeth.
"Hah?" The teen watched his boss, dumbfounded.
"I said, good morning. Would you like a priest to shrive?"
"What?" Still half-asleep, Lambo wasn't displaying any brightness at all.
"Someone is about to confess in their fuck ups." Tsuna grumbled as he dug through the papers that he'd brought with him.
Taking out of the astonishingly thick stack about twenty papers, he started looking through them in clear displeasure.
"You see, Lambo, I do not understand why the bloody fuck you need so many clothes. Why does Vongola have to pay for all your bloody shitty stuff? Do you what, eat it or something? These- right here, yes – are all bills from boutiques, and not just any boutiques, but the very best, fucking over-priced ones. And stop howling like a baby, it ain't gonna work on me right now. By the way," Tsuna folded his arms, "I blocked the credit card that you stole from me and thought I wouldn't notice. You little shit. Got yourself horns and everything and still haven't grown out of your diapers, brat. Gokudera, bring me another glass."
"Boooss!" Lambo sniveled miserably. "Please don't! I'm still young, I want to live a full life! I want to be in style, I mean, I'm in the actual mafia and I might even die tomorrow and I have to be at least beautiful..."
"Why yes, you just might. And I'll be the one to bury you. I'll strangle you myself, I will. Though I have an even better idea – I'll shave off your hair first and burn all your rag shit to hell as a ritual sacrifice before that. And believe me, I will really do it if I ever again get a phonecall from some mafiosi who tells me you were harassing his daughter."
"I was not!" Indignant, Lambo squealed in his own defense. "They're the ones harassing me in the first place..."
"And you're the only one who says that." Tsuna cut him off. "Get it in your thick head already – lots of families want to be closer to the Vongola and you, as a Guardian, are a perfect candidate. If it wasn't for our spy who rescued you when you were screaming and rendered to a state where you were only in your underwear, all the while you were cuffed to a radiator, you would've very well ended up as the husband of the Sigillo's family heiress. Those bloody possessive fathers with their bloody obsessive daughters will stop at absolutely nothing, the prats, and you're supposed to know that by now. And really, who else could they pick? Yamamoto? Haha! He'll just giggle like an idiot, then show his katana just for shits and giggles, and any enthusiasm is as good as gone. Gokudera? Uh-huh, right. He thinks he's already married with me. Ryohei... Oh, God save any person from him. You'd have to see an ear doctor, or, perhaps, permanently move out into a hospital for deaf. Mukuro? Hibari? That's- that's not even..."
Tsuna pinched the bridge of his nose as he shook his head and sighed resignedly. He focused his gaze – as much as he could in his state – on the whimpering teen.
"Anyway, Lambo," he waved a hand dismissively, "Just go bury your charisma in a hole somewhere or whatever. And try not to fuck up like an idiot all the time. Then, maybe, I might allow you to use the credit card again. For now though, go suck your paw in a corner, little shit."
The Tenth ended and leaned back into his chair again, massaging his aching temples.
"What a clusterfuck. I've got a headache from only one of you and there's still five more to go." He muttered. "Oi, Gokudera, bring me some champaign."
"Kufufufu..."
"Yes yes, Mukuro, champaign. I happened to like your idea." The Sawada smirked in a much too malicious way for anyone's comfort.
"I'm happy to be of any service, boss." The blue-haired only smiled.
"...Hm. Talking about birds. Oi, Hibari, relax." Tsuna reassured his Cloud Guardian, seeing how the latter bristled like a hedgehog at his boss's words. "We'll talk about birds later. Right now, we welcome Mukuro on stage!" Mimicking an entertainer, Tsuna proclaimed loudly. "Please, let us greet another star of our show!" The Tenth clapped his hands energetically, stopped, gulped half a glass of champaign that had been brought by the ever-so-caring right hand man, clapped some more, stopped to down the rest of the playful alcohol, and then hurled the glass at Mukuro.
Of course though, Mukuro wasn't Lambo, so naturally he avoided it and the glass, whistling as it flew mere millimeters from his temple, hit the wall and shattered into tiny pieces.
"Oya... Very good aim, Sawada Tsunayoshi, considering your... state. Kufufufufu~"
"Good, good. I know that without you. Had good teachers." Tsuna snapped curtly. "And stop with your chicken speech already – that 'kufufu'ing of yours, even though bloody creepy at the beginning, is getting seriously irritating by now. See, even Hibari cringes every time. It is, of course, highly amusing to see that, but it's starting to annoy me. A bit more and he'll really snap and you, dear, will have to grow out your stupid tail for at least another ten years. I see the only one who appears entertained with your noises is Takeshi. Right, Yamamoto?"
Tsuna narrowed his gaze on the swordsman.
"Smiling, huh? Mmm..." His lips curled into a dark smirk. "Why, that's okay, you'll stop smiling soon too, don't worry. You see over there – one's already crying." The boss nodded in the direction of whining Lambo. "Soon, you'll all be crying like that. Ryohei, stop banging on the table like a fucking circus monkey!" The brunet snapped at the boxer who promptly stopped.
"You're so funny today, Tsuna." Takeshi smiled.
"I am?" The Tenth blinked blearily and almost fell out of his seat. "Funny? Ah... But of course. When we get to you, I assure you I will be very funny – so funny, you might find yourself on the floor. Though not likely from laughing. But right now we're going to shrive our dear Rokudo-kun." Tsuna said and started shuffling through the familiar stack of papers. "A-ha! Found it!" Tsuna exclaimed and pulled out a file of papers, about eight centimeters in width.
"Now then, let us begin." He said, putting his hands under his chin in a prayerful manner as he sighed and looked up, as if at the heavens. "Tell me, Mukuro, what religion do you profess?"
There was a blank silence.
"Who? Me?" The illusionist frankly startled.
"Ah... Right. Sorry, I said something quite stupid." Tsuna shook his head and lightly tapped on his lips as if reprimanding himself for uttering such a thing. "Let me phrase it differently then. Why the fuck did you go to a church to shrive?!" The Tenth suddenly yelled, making everyone except Mukuro flinch.
"But boss, it was so interesting. People say that after that, your sins are all forgiven. And you feel better. That day I was feeling so terrible... My sins were disturbing me so much," Rokudo sighed oh-so-sorrowfully. "And the priest had this funny expression when he listened to me. He must've been empathizing with me. I even showed him illusion pictures for a better understanding."
"Funny expression?" Tsuna said quietly. "Funny expression!?" He couldn't help but start shouting again. "You fucking wretch! After your 'funny expression', the man is in coma for three weeks already from a fucking nervous breakdown! And his last words before he fell into coma, have you heard them? No? 'Satan has come!'. Gokudera. More champaign." The boss demanded absently.
"Coma, you say?" Mukuro murmured, smiling much too strangely. And then he sharply pulled out his mobile phone and, quickly dialing some number, put it to his ear.
"Oi, Mukuro." Tsuna said sternly. "Have you lost the last bits of your non-existent sense of self-preservation?"
"Just a sec," the Mist Guardian showed a thumb up. "Hello. Chikusa, you've lost! Next time we meet, you better hand me a hundred or else. What? Oh, yes! He's in a coma. I told you he wouldn't actually die~ Uh-huh! Okay, hanging up now." He slipped the mobile away. "See, I told you I'd be quick," he sang and turned to his boss whose jaw hung open from shock at this blatant display.
"Fascinating..." Tsuna breathed as he slightly shook his head and gazed into nowhere. He stuck his hand to his right without turning, "Gokudera, where is my champaign?"
"It's here, Juudaime." Gokudera, quite thoughtfully, slipped the completely furious boss another glass of the alcohol. Tsuna drank it in one sit and put it back on the table with a loud clang.
"More!" He ordered briskly.
"Understood!" Gokudera responded happily.
Another glass was downed in one go. But this time, Tsuna very quietly and very carefully put it back on the table. He breathed in deeply, breathed out, and looked back at Mukuro with dimmed eyes.
"You... You batsa... bastrad... you son of a bitch, Mukuro." Tsuna's tongue was starting to betray him again. "I'm so tired of you, just go die in a fire already. Mou, heaven help the priest, but why did you have to involve children? Hah?!" Tsuna blurted out desperately. "Why? Why do you go to a fucking kindergarten every damn Friday?"
"I just adore children. Sometimes drop by to play for a bit. I tell them lots of stories," Mukuro smiled sunnily.
"Yeah, right. Stories." Sawada's voice reeked of sarcasm.
He dragged a palm over his face and then slapped it against the table loudly.
"Okay, stories are maybe, almost fine – you tell plenty of that bullshit to us here too. But would you care to elaborate on those games of yours, mhm?"
"Kufufufu..."
"What are you laughing at, you piece of a fucked up pineapple?!" Again with the shouting. "If you were only playing with them – which I cannot frankly imagine – it would not have resulted in several of the children coming home with a case of strange laughter – I have solid suspicions I know exactly how it sounds, goddammitall – and carrying around bloody forks. Do you know that some children have been hospitalized for schizophrenic behavior? Because the parents experienced how their own children poked at them with said forks and talked about something like enslaving the human race and taking over the world." Tsuna had veins pulsing on his forehead by now. "What are you, making followers for yourself!?"
"Oya, oya~!" Mukuro sang. "My plan's working brilliantly I see. Kufufufu!"
"I'll fucking show you 'plan's working'! You'll see – I'll give you back to the mummies in the black coats in no time. They'll be quite happy to put you into a jar again, I can guarantee that. Maybe another ten years will miraculously make you grow at least some sort of sense of consciousness."
"Boss, but then why did you take me out of there in the first place?"
"I frankly dunno. Because I was a young, naïve idiot perhaps. Positively, I should just hand you over to them, though I doubt it'll help much – better to roll you into cement and toss you into the ocean. I'd go for throwing you into outer space but that's just too expensive."
Tsuna did allow himself a moment to gaze up at the ceiling, smiling dreamily at such an image.
"And also," Sawada's face turned cold again as he cut off his happy dreams and pierced his Guardian with a gaze again, "Disband your cult immediately, you disgusting creature. How's it called again? 'Children of Saint Mukuro', something along those lines?"
"Oya?" The illusionist blinked innocently.
"Do not dare give me that, you bastard. I'm not your 'worshippers'. You can feed them whatever bullshit about rainbows and beautiful worlds. Thought I wouldn't find out? You know, I might've actually not, but you scum actually arrange your bloody gatherings in this very mansion. I'm still surprised how Hibari hasn't castrated you yet."
"Oh, but I choose times when he's away on missions," Mukuro nodded sympathetically. "I'm quite worried for his nervous system, you see, it's very fragile. He's so very sensitive, our Hibari-chan. Kufufufu~" Hibari, who was sitting to Tsuna's right, growled dangerously.
"And I also know," Sawada continued, disregarding the growing killer intent that came from his Cloud Guardian, "That on those 'gatherings' you profess world utopia that you will build for all those who 'truly believe'. You nag your 'followers' for money to 'build' this world of yours. And," a tired sigh, "I am also fed up by waking up to the chants of your worshippers who think that the Namimori fucking school anthem is an appropriate tune. It is, of course, nostalgic, but I'm ready to throw up by now."
After these words, every Guardian looked over at Kyouya cautiously. The latter closed his eyes and slowly stood up.
"Oi oi, Hibari, tshhh. Don't be like that," the Tenth chuckled. "After the meeting you can do whatever you please and no one's going to stop you or anything. We – me personally – will have fun watching. But for now, please sit down. I am not done yet."
There was that tone that made Tsuna the Tenth Vongola boss, even if a severely drunk one, and so, however annoyed and evil the look Hibari threw at Tsuna, he still lowered down onto his seat again.
His tonfa was demonstratingly put on the table in front of himself.
A/N: My second try of translating a fic from Russian and hope I was able to get across all the characters and way of words. It's a quite difficult job to translate dialogue-based fics like this one, especially ones heavy with insults 'loose' language. You wouldn't imagine the lists of insults Russian has – мразь, тварь, сука, сволочь, падла, придурок, лох, козел, дебил, тупень, мудак, and that's not even scratching the surface. Those aren't even the particularly censored ones, but still offensive, each in a slightly varying manner. (Yes, I know, that's probably why most of the world think Russians are aggressive barbarians who didn't have a writing system before Cyrillic and live in constant cold, always wear ushankas, have pet bears and drink vodka all day long. Well, fuck prejudices.)
Please tell me if you'd like me to translate the next chapters of this fic too: while written ingeniously in Russian – I can swear it is; it's brilliant, fantastic and amazingly hilarious – I'm not sure I was able to pass on at least a bit of that humor in English. When I find the time, I can be quite fast with translating, though of course I spend most of the time researching and weighing words that I choose to express as the counterpart words and expressions from the original work. It's the whole point, really – I've got to get the 'taste' of the words from one language to another.
(Если же ненароком кто-то русский это читает, то наверняка он скорее всего знает этот фэндом иначе бы не оказался вот здесь, а значит читал фики по Реборну и на Фикбуке. Соответственно, он наверное читал один из самых популярных фиков по Реборну, 'Пьяный Тсуна или "Поговорим?"', однако если я ошибаюсь, пожалуйста не бойтесь попросить у меня ссылку на оригинал. Поверьте, оно того стоит.)