OK SO I UPDATED IT AGAIN BC IT WAS WAY TOO SHORT THE FIRST TIME. PLEASE ENJOY AND LEAVE A REVIEW.

Prologue

The inside of the car was hot and stuffy.

The taxi, a 1983 model Peugeot 205, contained two occupants: the stout and somewhat laconic driver and a lanky, droopy-eyed youth.

A cottony silence permeated the thick heat of the vehicle, a calming white noise provided by the gentle thrum of the motor as the cab sped along the cracked concrete. Renata Andoloro, age 17, slumped against the filmy glass of the backseat window. Heavy-lidded eyes gazed intently over the passing scenery.

This was her first summer away from home, away from zio Romano. She cringed at the thought of home, and of her adoptive uncle back in Ardea. She wished she could take back everything she'd said, all those horrible things that made his kind, crinkled, eyes water. Rena groaned quietly and butted her head against the window.

What a stupid argument it had been too. Her slacking off in school and persistent delinquency had earned her a well-deserved summer trip to a boot camp near the Vicovaro commune.

She hated making her zio upset like this, but she hated school, hated those kids who stared and laughed when she fumbled over these difficult questions about old dead guys and chemistry equations, hated those teachers that yelled at her and threatened her with detention for never doing anything right. Well, at least in boot camp she wouldn't have to do any schoolwork. She made a face at her reflection through the grimy fingerprints on the window.

The suburban scenery gave way to a rural view, until all signs of human life disappeared completely. Even the concrete road gave way to a sandy dirt path. The cab shook violently, not unlike an old man possessed by the flu. The engine let out a series of long, shuddering, coughs before jerking to a stop. The driver slammed a fist on the wheel, muttering several obscenities under his breath before turning towards Renata.

"Mi dispiace, Signorina. It would appear that the car is broken. Please wait while I call the mechanics." He turned around again and pulled out a small cellphone, only to have a few crumpled euros deposited in his lap. The car door opened, followed by a grunt and the shuffling of a map.

"No grazie, signore! I'll go on by myself from here. It should be close by."

The cabbie twisted around, once again, just as Renata stepped out from the back seat.

"Wait! Signorina, you can't go that way! That entire stretch is private property!" The youth was now at least a yard or so away, throwing a casual wave over her shoulder. He groaned in frustration, rolling down the car window to shout one last warning. "Rumors say that it's own by the mafia!"

But Renata Andoloro was now no more than a tiny speck among the daunting blackness of the pine trees lining the horizon, far too distant to hear what he had to say.

Meanwhile a half a mile or so away, the austere, iron-gated, form of Varia HQ rose up ominously out of the denseness of the surrounding forest, steep terraces and angled rooftops shining under the late-morning sun.

Now, upon observing such an orderly and pristine-looking structure, the viewer might have believed the same about the mansion's occupants. That might've been true, in any other case. However, being that the facility belonged to the Vongola Family's independent assassination squad, it was probably the only exception.

As if to further prove the point, a series of shouts echoed from the 3rd floor, followed by a smashing of glass and gunshots. The sudden noise startled a nearby flock of crows, which scattered into the cloudless blue sky, protesting loudly.

"VOOOOOOOOI! STOP THROWING FOOD AT MEETINGS, PUNKS!" Superbi Squalo, second-in-command of the Varia, was known as an excellent swordsman, the best of the best. The new Sword Emperor, even, since the defeat of Tyr. However, the supposed best swordsman in the world was currently unable to stop his subordinates from hurling Chinese take-out at each other across the meeting table.

" Ushishishi~ relax vice-captain. I'll stop as soon as this peasant is ready to admit defeat." The youngest commanding officer, Belphegor, grinned out from underneath his thick bangs. A small, cloaked, figure sat on the table next to him, a crisp wad of euros in one hand.

"Muu, stop wasting food, Bel. Food is money." Mammon did not look up from his counting, but simply pursed his lips in distaste.

" Ushishi, don't be such a hardass, Mammon." The self-proclaimed prince leaned over in his seat, and chucked another handful of chow mein at Lussuria, who had the misfortune of sitting across from him.

The older man, clad in sunglasses, gracefully reached up and caught the spinning noodle ball on his plate. He grimaced a little as a stray piece of shrimp bounced off the rim of his sunglasses, eliciting a giggle out of Bel.

"Now, now, let's all just sit down and finish eating so our dear vice-captain Squalo can make his announcement hm~?" Belphegor, seemingly ignoring him, grabbed a fortune cookie out of the pile on the center of the table.

"Shishishi~ hey Mammon, did you know? Fortune cookies were invented in America, not China." He cracked open the pale orange dessert, laughing as though he'd just told the most hilarious joke he had ever heard. Mammon, on the other hand, kept counting his euros with a quick and steady hand.

"Voi, can we finally get started?!" Squalo sighed, dragging a hand across his face. Meetings with the entire Varia were difficult enough to plan out, but actually getting through one was a completely different story.

Bel looked down at the slip of paper in his palms, ever-present grin suddenly gone from his face. Putting on what he assumed was a perplexed look, he tapped Mammon's shoulder.

"Oi. Mammon. What does this mean?"

Mammon, being the ever-patient soul he was, successfully resisted the urge to send the blonde youth beside him out of the nearby window and into the large marble fountain 3 stories below.

"What is it, Bel? This better be important. Time is money, you know."

Belphegor, upon hearing what he thought was a tone of approval, eagerly shoved a small slip of paper underneath the illusionist's hood.

Mammon jerked back, maintaining his grip on his precious euros. But as his eyes focused in on the neat blue Times New Roman print, in a rare display of disbelief, he allowed the crisp bills to slip from his hand.

Today's treasure will come in the form of destructive change.

"I know right? Is this weird or what?" Bel leaned in towards the infant, a disturbingly serious expression etched across what was exposed of his features. Mammon began to shake.

"You. You made me lose track of my counting. For a fortune. Cookie. Slip."

The remaining members began to take notice of the commotion. Squalo scrambled towards the two, unfilled mission reports flying out of his hand.

"VOOOOI! NOT IN THEMEETING ROOM, MIO DIO NOT IN THE MEETING ROO-"

3 stories below, numerous Varia officers and grunts shielded their heads as red and purple smoke billowed out from a shattered window-followed by a shower of broken glass, burnt chow mein, and chunks of plaster-then proceeded to continue their daily activities.

ok so that's that. and just a few clarifications- zio means uncle (although you've probably figured that out already) and the time is set during the 8 year period when Xanxus is frozen (although it's probably a little more towards the end of those 8 years, so expect to see Xanxus very very soon!)

and please. please review. review so that I know people actually care about this story and if there's anything I'm doing wrong (pace too fast? too slow?) and please let me know if there's anything you'd like me to add in!