Chaviva flipped through her diary. "Today…outreach committee meeting, revising the term's agenda with the creative team...then organizing dance club camp, oh, then rehearsal for performance on the 8th…and prepare for chemistry symposium tomorrow. I'll be missing dance class for that…" Swiping her thumb across the touch screen of her phone, she swiftly entered the passcode and opened her messages, automatically turning the phone on its side as she texted her team members. Just as she pressed the send button, her mother burst into the room, wheeling a luggage.
"Pack. We're off to Italy. Dad's already flown off, and Cassidy will join us there from America." As she spoke, she flung open Chaviva's cupboard and deftly taped a packing list onto the inside of the door. Chaviva gaped for a moment.
"Wait, what? We're going to Italy? Since when? We didn't even plan for a family holiday this year…and I have meetings planned!"
Chaviva's mum turned to face her. "I know you have plans, but cancel them. Family issues take priority. Our flight leaves at 6. We need to hurry. I'll answer your questions on the plane. Toiletry bag." She tossed a sealable plastic pouch and Chaviva barely caught it. After a moment, Chaviva muttered a curse and began yanking out jeans and T-shirts, packing them in neat rolls in her luggage. As she packed, she switched on her laptop and typed a quick email to all the groups she was involved in, informing them about a family emergency that required her to leave the country, apologizing and promising to contact them from overseas. Thereafter, she packed her computer in and zipped the luggage up. In her backpack, she tossed in her phone, a light jacket, basic medication plus her collection of notebooks and stationery.
Two hours later, they arrived at the airport, rushed through immigration and were on the plane in less than half an hour. Chaviva caught her breath while the plane took off. After a period of silence, she turned to her mother, intending to demand an explanation. Before she could speak, her mother sighed and began.
"Your grandfather's brother is the 11th generation boss of the Vongola Familia, of the Mafia." Chaviva nodded slowly; she had heard that from her grandfather. "In his search for his successor, the 12th generation boss, Duodecimo, he has included you, along with the rest of his grandchildren, amongst his candidates. Thus, you and Cass are required to participate in the succession fight."
"Wait! His grandchildren? Shouldn't he choose his own grandchildren first?" Chaviva's mother sighed and shook her head.
"The grandchildren he brought up to be the candidates for succession were recently deemed unsuitable by the external advisor—and 11th boss has, grudgingly, agreed to his logic." She paused, then looked at Chaviva. "There's sure to be enmity over that, so be careful."
Chaviva pursed her lips. She'd always known about the Vongola family, but had regarded that as a distant branch of her family that would never impact her life in Japan. As the youngest child of her grandfather, a daughter, her mother had never been considered for candidacy; neither had the rest of her family. Thus, she herself would never have predicted that such a day would come. As a female, the probability was reduced even further; of the 11 Vongola bosses so far, only the 8th had been female—and she had had a tough time bringing the organization to respect her.
"There's just one issue, mum. I don't know how to fight. All I know is dancing, studying, basically living as a normal student. I can't possibly fight, especially not against those trained to be a successor!" Her mother smiled knowingly.
"That's why 11th boss has commissioned personal tutors for everyone. You were very fortunate to get who you did. He's been the Vongola's most trusted hitman for generations. He's trained up the past 3 generations of bosses, for various families in the Alliance."
Chaviva cocked an eyebrow. "Generations? How old is this guy?"
"He's a special case. Maybe one day he'll deem fit to tell you." Here, her expression softened. "I think assigning you this tutor indicates, at least a little, of the Boss' liking in you, and his belief in your potential. He's been watching all of you over the years, you know."
That's kinda creepy. Chaviva laughed inwardly. "Who is this tutor anyway?"
"Me. I am the Hitman Tutor, Reborn!" The high, childish voice piped up from the aisle, right beside her. She jumped in her seat and glanced wildly around, seeing no one until a black boot caught her right on the side of her head. "Ow!" She exclaimed, rubbing the spot.
"I know I'm short, no need to rub it in." She gaped at the young kid, with amazing, curled sideburns, wearing a suit and a yellow pacifier. A green lizard scampered up his arm and clambered onto the stiff brim of his fedora. His black hair thrust out in spikes at amazing angles.
"Did you just say…you were my tutor?" She stared incredulously at ths kid. No matter how she looked, she saw an average toddler, perhaps more dressed up than usual, and with a strange pet. But the prickling sensation in her skin, and the piercing look in his clear grey eyes told her otherwise.
"Yes, I'm assuming there's no problem with that. The whole but he's a kid this is getting old after 3 generations, you know. Besides, you have no choice. Orders is orders." He gave a devilish grin. Definitely no ordinary kid.
"Reborn." Her mother unbuckled her seat belt, rose and bowed. Reborn inclined his head. Mum never bows to anyone! Even in Japan, where it's customary. That confirms it; this guy is the real deal. Chaviva stretched, then bent over her arm rest.
"So…when do we start?"
Reborn flashed that wicked smile of his again.
"The moment we touch down. After all, I wouldn't want to crash the plane, would you?" For the first time in many to come, Chaviva shuddered in fearful anticipation.