Life of the Tenth Generation Vongola Storm Guardian
Started:25/12/13
Summary: "Gokudera Hayato." He stared at her. Silver hair, electrifying green eyes looked back at him. He clucked his tongue. "That doesn't sound like a girl's name." She smiled, bombed the hotel, and later on, as we all know- arrived at the small area called Namimori, Japan. (Gender bent! 59)
Author's Note. Which Is Entirely Not All That Serious But Sounds Kinda Serious In A Way:
Hello- this is my first try on gender bending characters- and I'll keep most of Gokudera's personalities the same. The story is gonna have a loooot of drama and the only fact that's going to change is how the mafia works when Gokudera's a she now. Not to sound sexist or anything-but that's the sad truth about life. Le sob.
All Italian words are all Google-d because I have never spoke in Italian in 15 years of my life. (Sad, really) Anybody who just so happens to read my awesome Italian-le coughs- could tell me what I was supposed to write. Grazie. :O.
This is going to be my first serious fic. Well-as serious as my writings are. :D . I'm going to try to pick up this writing style-and believe me, it's hard. BUT I'll try my best at it.
Disclaimer: I don't own Katekyo Hitman Reborn. If I did, I would still be drawing a TYL Version of the series instead of ending it this year. T_T.
Prologue- The Day To Remember
San Cataldo, Italy
12th September 1999
Birds chirped harmoniously, the forest serene.
"…I see." A raven haired man whispered out thoughtfully, footsteps growing faster, lighter as he walked through the small woods. "Give me five more minutes and I will be there." He heard a grunt from the other person on the phone. "Bye." Snapping his phone shut and shoving it into his blazer's pocket, he strode across tree roots and low tree trunks-completely not unaware of his destination.
True to his word, he arrived there in five minutes…. and a half. But he was already there. He smiled unconsciously. This was considered better than most of the time-simply wasn't there. For her.
He exhaled, brushing away negative thoughts.
Stefano was a very busy man. Leading his very own gang- a leader, a mafia don. He had to be selfish sometimes-choosing between six hundred of his men and his lover was hard. The responsibilities of being a husband to his wife, a father to his daughter, were not completely wiped out from his mind-sometimes he just despised his mind.
He clenched his jaw, pushed himself up for another walk, without thinking in his mind.
Almost there… he thought, looking at the small cottage two yards in front of him. A figure stood inside the windows of the homey cottage, and stalked away from its position when it saw the suited man.
Finally, he thought.
The old, skinny woman who he had been talking on the phone held a spatula that completely came out from nowhere, and whacked his head when he was about to pull the handle on the entrance of the wooden door.
"You're late." She spat out, holding the (mighty) spatula in her hands, folding her arms.
"….mi dispiace." I'm sorry. He shooked his head painfully, groaning. "I got here as fast as I could, Zia Carla."
" Yeah, yeah." She waved her hand, eyes turning soft. He was still one of her little nephews (even if he was a little brat and now- a big one) she still loved him. She pushed the door open and hushed, "Come in quickly."
"Ti ringrato tanto, Zia." Thank you so much. She nodded, pushing his back into the cottage.
The door closed behind him.
"Top floor, third room to the left." He nodded gratefully, kissed his aunt's cheeks, and rushed up the staircase in a frenzied state.
Carla looked at him, muttered a silent prayer when he was out of earshot, heard the creaking of a door opening, and went back to the kitchen to resume her work.
Silver tresses flew freely when she unclasped her hairband, her back leaning against the headboard as support. Her elegant fingers glided on the blue bed sheets rhythmically-she suddenly yearned for the happy tunes when she played the piano at the café she worked. Passing time by looking at the foliage outside was starting to bore her.
They had said that playing the piano would attract problems….sadly.
The door suddenly made creaking noises- no one had bothered to oil it, and it could be an alarm to anybody who was coming into the room. Believing it to be her current caretaker and friend, Lavina spun around slowly, grinning.
Then she blinked.
"….Stefano." She whispered, disbelievingly. He sat by her side on the bed, grasping her fingers.
"I thought you were supposed to be asleep by now," Said man clasped his fingers around her face, the stern lecturing tone contrasted by his smile. Lavina pouted and looked away when Stefano ruffled the middle of her hair affectionately.
There were no bullets flying through the air over the room, and both of them were clearly appreciative for that. The mafia don squeezed her hands, love was not fair in the mafia-
"How are things?" Emerald eyes were instantly filled with confusion. Silver eyes looked back, similar coloured hair swaying down as she tilted her hair sideways to get a better look at her lover. She poked his forehead. "You know what I'm saying, Stefano."
His confusion dissipated, now smiled cheekily.
"Everything's going well for the past few days…." He laughed silently, shifting his posture on the bed, settling comfortably beside her. "We made truce with the Vongola's. No more bloodshed-and Timoteo was more friendly and peaceful than his mother." Vongola Ottavo was scary-according to his father. He shuddered. She was now deceased, having fallen to old age.
"That's good."
A pregnant silence fell upon them.
"…..I really, really missed you." Hands surrounded her, "I'm sorry for not being there all the time." Lavina was silent, silver hair glistening. She sighed. Their meetings have always ended like this-apologies, denial –heartbroken at the end.
She doesn't smile in response, looking at him wearily, eyes sad.
Stefano had proposed to her two weeks ago. He even had letters sent to her-currently five. Any sensible woman would agree to it-protection, love and even comfort, but Lavina had shooked her head, and thought of other aspects-of Baramante, Stefano's lawful wife who loved him dearly, wildly- and of course, Bianchi, his three year old daughter.
Were she to be legally married to him, what would happen to both of them? Both were innocent and she couldn't deny that she was the third party. Despite Stefano's assurance that both of them would be taken care of, she still refused.
Those were her surface words to him, yet-they were still truthful to her heart.
"I was not there even when you were giving birth-" His breath hitched.
"That's part of the mafia commandments-"
"Listen to me, Lavina." She spoke no more. "They want to take Hayato away." He said uncomfortably, waiting for the woman's expression. She stared at him like he was having a quick joke-he continued. "Hayato would be taken care of under my Famiglia-Bara has accepted." He didn't say this- it hurt him to even think about it. Bianchi was quite enthusiastic of the prospect of having a younger sibling, not really knowing the real conditions of it.
But she will. Someday.
"….." Silver hues stared into emerald greens, startled.
Nothing was said anymore- the silver haired woman got off the bed, at loss of words. She knew that this was going to happen sooner or later-but her heart still clenched painfully.
Stefano lowered his head in shame.
The skilled pianist pushed the entrance to a storeroom turned nursery ajar, and looked at the wooden crib inside.
Silver hair was sprouting on the crown of the babe's head, soft breathing heard. Lavina leaned against the railings of the door, eyes not leaving the sleeping child.
Tears fell down her cheeks, and she covered her face with both her hands.
" My child," She whispered, crying softly, looking at widened emerald eyes who had noticed her and was extending her short hands to the air, looking at her. She breathed, taking in the sight of the small life in the room, as if it was her last chance of seeing her, and walked slowly to cuddle the child.
She planted a kiss on her daughter's forehead, feelings in turmoil.
"Hayato."
A mafia don looked on, face unreadable.
9th September 2000
A dirty pink haired girl smiled as she looked at the sight of her sister twirling with Fena, a trusty bodyguard of the Famiglia (and the most emotional one) who sang herself a birthday song on the streets, pulling the bald man in tow. Three more bodyguards were following her, keeping watch on them from behind. The Don of the Famiglia was still inside the shop, asking the manager of the shop of the social matters in the area.
Bianchi sighed, pulling the ends of her hair, feeling a little bored.
….scratch that. She was fucking bored.
Today was Hayato's 1st birthday, and Papa had bought a magazine that had caught the girl's eye on the magazine stands. ( Undentified Flying Objects! O.O Sighted!) Bianchi bought a pastry making cookbook in the shop that was laying in coats of debris-and got a half price out of it. Mama had told her that she was going to teach her how to bake one day- but she was always late. Bianchi was going to start it herself tomorrow in the kitchens with the help of the maids in the mansion…..that ought to do the trick. She flipped the pages and one had caught her eyes like stars.
…..chocolate cookies.
It wasn't known to Bianchi that she would someday become a famous free-lance hitwoman with unique techniques (which involved slaying a python in the Amazons.) in the future, but she had her intuition since she was young.
The corner of her eyes looked at the figure right behind the corner of the shop, where a shawl-wearing figure was hiding behind. She heard her frantic breathing loudly-which slowly disappeared after seconds. Bianchi flipped another page, assuming that she was no threat to them.
Who is she?
" Bianchi." Her father called out, Hayato and Fena laughing in the very front of the group, walking back to the nearest famiglia accommodation inn. She gasped, picked up her book and rushed to the very frontlines with her sister.
Stefano smiled, and chuckled deeply. Kids these days. He shoved his hands into his pockets and went straight forward with his right hand man behind him.
Silver eyes looked at the scene somberly.
7th September 2001
She still remembered.
Hands gripped at the piano seat, beads of sweat dripping from her forehead to the tiled floor, and her futile attempts of standing on her toes to crawl up the leather seat. A childish groan emitted right out of her lips, shoulder length silver hair sticking out at odd places.
"Mama!" the child laughed out, seeing a purple haired woman coming into the piano room. Her footsteps were graceful, posture sophisticated even when wearing heels that were painful to watch.
Baramante pinched her cheeks lightly, expression soft.
"Too short to reach the seat, Hayato?" The child nodded, and was gently carried up to the seat easily. Baramante patted her on the head, and spoke soothingly while brushing the short silver haired locks apart with her fingers.
"Mama," the woman hums in question. "Why does Papa want me to play the piano-why not the viola like Bianchi?" Currently her sister was at the other side of the mansion, being taught how to play the viola by a personal tutor. She didn't quite understand why they needed to be separated when both of them could be taught equally- she pouted.
They must thing that I am still young.
…..assholes.
…. I blame Shamal for that. The man was a pervert who worked for the family- they had a basic relationship with each other. A bad one too.
"Good morning, Sha-" She looked at the lady beside him. And raised an eyebrow. "Who's that?"
The doctor laughed nervously.
"My dear sister!" The lady blushed. She didn't know about sexual innuendoes at her age-but she did knew something about the birth of a child. Private tutors were sent to the mansion thrice a week to tutor both Bianchi and her. And Biology had made her day.
By watching on as a woman screams and a head was shoved out from her….what was that called? ….oh. Vagina. It took her five seconds to remember the whole scene- Ew. She cringed.
"Does that mean you have 16 sisters?" The doctor deadpanned. Hayato gave him a thumbs-up "Awesome mum you have."
The lady swatted the doctor's head.
Ah….what a messed up friendship. Her inner self wiped an emotional (fake) tear out of her eyes.
"Papa called a wonderful tutor for you, Hayato." Baramante says steadily, getting her back to reality. hands leaving the silver hair. "She's very good!" She personally had watched the pianist perform herself-and they were basically on good terms.
Emerald orbs looked at her with childish awe, nodding.
A car's engine extinguished, and out came a woman, shielding the rays of light that came straight to her vision.
"Finally."
Okay I don't know what exactly I was writing but still- Lavina wasn't much written on Fanfiction..or anywhere at all. My imagination and drama skills still need to be brushed up.
Read (you did that. : ) ) and Review if you want to. Flames are accepted because of my superb writing skills.
Ciao. :D
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