Title: Vongola Famiglia Rule XXX: No Mentioning 'Baseball'

Summary: Because when Yamamoto gets excited, Tsuna suffers.

Disclaimer: Katekyo Hitman Reborn! belongs to Akira Amano

Pairing: None

Warning: More or less crack. This one is pretty dialogue-y. Usual OoC-ness applies (cause, you know, crack). Also, language warning. Also, liberal usage of italics and bold, sometimes in combination.

Vongola Famiglia Rule XXX: No Mentioning 'Baseball'

I'm sorry, Takeshi, you are one of my best friends and I love you for life, but I simply cannot take any more looks of disappointment from the previous Don Vongola whenever another piece of antique passed down from Primo's time gets sliced into half because you got too excited.

With each passing year, Tsuna felt less like a badass Mafia boss, and more like a kindergarten teacher.

Looking at the two Guardians he called to his office (one looking entirely too smug and the other, too guilty), the Vongola Decimo certainly felt like the latter.

(To his credit, the look of guilt on Yamamoto's face at the moment could potentially beat the sheepish look on Lambo's when the teen was trying to worm his way out of trouble.)

Deciding to deal with the other later, Tsuna breathed out very slowly as he turned to stare at his Rain Guardian, unimpressed. After the longest time, Tsuna finally spoke. "That," He said, pointing to the pieces of shattered vase gathered nicely in a cloth. "…was Vongola Ottavo's favourite vase. The one that Grandpa―that is, Vongola Nono―specially made for her birthday. And she is not happy."

"Actually, she wants a replacement vase." To the side, Giotto (the unofficial Vongola Sky Ring spokesperson) helpfully corrected.

"Yes, well, remind me to inform Hayato to bury me with Ottavo's replacement vase. No, actually, remind me to revive Grandpa from the dead, get him to make a new vase, and then bury me with Ottavo's replacement vase." Tsuna hissed. "You're still mad about your rainbow clam painting getting turned into paper sashimi, aren't you?"

"It was a pretty good painting…" Giotto murmured mournfully. "I would have taken it with me to Japan, but G wouldn't let me."

Tsuna took another deep breath, and chanted the mantra in his head. 'That's the founder of Vongola and your ancestor, Tsuna. You can kill everyone in the room but him―if only because he's already dead, and attempting to murder a spirit is in no way respectful.'

"I'm sorry, Tsuna." Yamamoto mumbled, glancing down at the ground.

"No." Tsuna gritted. "Not this time. Last week, when you sashimi-ed Primo's painting because you overhead someone talking about baseball and you got excited? That wassomething that you should, and was sorry for." Glaring at the other Guardian in the room, Tsuna continue, "This week, wrecking Ottavo's favourite vase is completely on the one who threw said vase while covering it with an illusion of a baseball. Stop looking so smug, Mukuro."

"I was simply aiding my fellow Guardian in training his reflexes." Mukuro smiled innocently.

"Oh, trust me, the furniture in the Vongola estate can all attest to Takeshi's reflexes." Tsuna ground out. "You're just pissed that I made you wear underwear!"

"You ruined my figure by giving me underwear lines." Mukuro replied in mock horror. "Underwear lines! On my leather pants!"

"I don't care." Tsuna retorted. "Clearly your sex life is going as well as ever despite your 'ruined figure', given that forty percent of the Vongola Famiglia had seen things they shouldn't because of your exhibitionist kink. I had to hire two Mafia-approved counsellors. Two." He hissed. "Take your sex life behind closed, locked doors!"

"You're just jealous of my sex life!" Mukuro accused.

"My sex life," Tsuna hissed. "Is fan-fucking-tastic, thank you very much."

"It's true." Giotto piped up again. "Did you know that Tsunayoshi is incredibly flexible?"

"Of course he is." Mukuro rolled his eyes as Tsuna started choking and turning all shades of red (and pink). "Do you not see how he moves in air? Of course he's flexible; no normal person can move that smoothly mid-air and carry out those flashy manoeuvres."

"Those were careful applications of Dying Will Flames!" Tsuna screamed. Turning to his ancestor, Tsuna continued, utterly horrified, "You were watching?!"

"Of course not." Giotto huffed. "Secondo and Ottavo did, and they told me."

"Secondo and Ottavo—" Tsuna choked… again. (Giotto was starting to feel rather worried for his descendant; who will lead Vongola if he passed of choking on his own saliva? Not to mention, that was one of the least dignified ways for a badass Mafia boss to go.) "—That's it." The Vongola Decimo recovered, slamming his hands on his fancy antique desk. "I," He declared. "Am banning baseball."

Yamamoto whimpered.

"No playing of baseball on estate. In fact, don't even mention baseball on the estate." Tsuna continued, glaring at an innocent-looking Mukuro while being completely aware of Yamamoto's rapidly shattering heart. "Stop giving me puppy eyes, Takeshi, you will get special leave to deal with your baseball needs. Off-estate. Actually, speaking of which…"

The look of pure, unadulterated evil on Tsuna's face was one that Daemon Spade would be proud of.

"Voooooooooiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii! Why the fuck do we have a pitching machine in the training room?!"

A/N: So... This happened. Yep. This whole thing was a bit of a trainwreck, but the idea just wouldn't go away, so... have random crack! :D

Hope this at least managed to bring a smile to you guys. Thank you for reading my fics still! Ciao ciao~