Hey! This is a one shot fic... Basically, you may not understand what's going on, but this is character development for my Gevanni-muse. Due to roleplaying/chatplaying Death Note I have had to fill in some gaps in his past and so we're following a theory here ^^ Basically... it starts the rest... So yeah... There may be more one shots coming so look out for them if you're interested!

I dedicate this to Matty and Raven from the chatplay ^^ 'Cause Matty translates all my English to Italian ('cause I am of the mind Gevanni is Italian, so deal) and Raven 'cause she plays Lidner and yup ^^ They're both just awesome like that....

Disclaimer: Fire (The Munch) does not own Death Note, Gevanni, or the Italian language. She wishes she owned two of those three... but alas. Oh well. -shrugs- That's all

"Stephen," his father's voice was stern, covering anger, normally a sign that he wanted to talk about something. He had a pretty good idea what it was about as well, because he was just returning home from orchestrating a big change in his own life. In fact, he had even expected his parents to have found out, and was expecting at least his father to be angry when he arrived home. They had, after all been adamant about him receiving an education, and staying in school had been a must. He finished shutting the door, looking to face his family. Claire was vacant, which he was thankful for. The last thing he needed his little sister to see was a fight between him and his parents…

"Yes?" he asked, his tone showing he was pretty sure he knew what this was about. His parents were both eyeing him, his father angry and his mother almost worried. They had obviously already discussed this before he had walked in. No doubt it had been discussed in full, a decision already made about how to handle the situation. He had a feeling it was not going to be a good conversation, and he was not going to like their decision. Whatever it was, it was going to be bad. Probably very bad.

"Stephen," his father said again, as if trying to compose himself so he did not strangle his son, "We just heard from the university that we do not need to pay tuition for this month because you are no longer enrolled, and therefore it is no longer due." His father looked absolutely murderous, which caused the nineteen year old to stop and think about his words carefully. A normal response, with plenty of sarcasm and venom, would get him nowhere but to the point of being the victim of a murder. Granted, murders were not uncommon in this area… but he would rather not be the next one. He very much wanted to live a longer life than that which he had lived so far. Which meant pushing his father any farther was not advisable… and besides that his mother might just die if a serious fight broke out right here. "Care to explain?" his father prompted, trying to gain a response from his wayward son. This snapped the young man out of his thoughts and back into the present moment and place to answer his father.

"That would be correct…" he started slowly, still trying to piece together his thoughts and make sure he did not say anything that was going to greatly piss off his father. "I am no longer enrolled as a student. I dropped out. So you do not have to pay tuition anymore." He looked up once he had finished, looking to gauge his parents' reactions to the news bombshell he had just dropped on them. His father looked absolutely more murderous than before, if that was even possible. He found himself on the verge of taking a few steps back, as if he was being physically affected by the waves of anger rolling off the man in front of him. His mother looked down, disheartened and obviously disappointed in the turn of events. If his father gave him a measure of fright, looking at his mother made him feel almost bad for his decision. Not that it was going to change. Nope, not even his mother crying was going to change his mind.

"Stephen! We already discussed this before, and you know where we stand on college. I don't know what kind of rebellion this is, but you will be returning to the office on Monday and hoping they will let you back in," his father nearly shouted at him. It had been building up for a while it seemed, and Stephen had a feeling that it was going to be a while before all the steam blew off. His father was rarely one to get all his anger out at once.

"I am not going to go back," he stated stubbornly, eyes narrowing in the direction of his father. "I am nineteen, you have no legal control over what I do, and you cannot make me return. You know as well as I do that college is not going to happen. I am not meant to go to college, and you can't make me fit to go by wanting it. I barely got in. Actually, I don't even know how I got in. So please, don't make this any worse than it has to be… I'm going to go looking for a job on Monday," he said. It wasn't his actual plan, but if it made his parents happy and got them off his back he would go with it. He could deal with a job as long as he was not back in that institution of "higher learning". If they would take that and let him live here, that would be amazing.

"How do you expect to make a living without a degree? Good jobs require a college education, Stephen," his father responded, his voice significantly calmer but still angry in the edges of his tone. He was not done yet. He was trying to reason his son into his way of thinking, which wasn't about to work. His mind was set.

"I can find a way to make a living. There are plenty of people who have found their way without a college degree. I'll be fine. If I'm as smart as you say I am, then there shouldn't be a problem now, should there?" This statement used his parents own words against them, and his father's tense expression showed just how much he did not appreciate the attitude. But the raven-haired young man was not about to give up, and he sensed his parents (well, mainly his dad) were not about to do so. The explosion was coming in…

3….

2…

1…

"Stephen! If you will not return to your education than you longer have a place in this house! Get your things and get out!" his father's shout resounded through the dwelling, and his mother visibly trembled. No doubt Claire, wherever she was, had heard the shout as well and knew the ultimatum that had just been delivered. He had expected something of the sort, and so he was not especially surprised. However, a certain sense of disbelief tainted the delivery, and he stood there for a moment, blue eyes focused on his father's, the same shade of icy, clear blue.

"I suppose I shall collect my things then..," he said with a sigh that did not seem so much disheartening as just relieving the tension that had been growing in the room for quite some time. He turned, away from his parents to head to his room to do exactly as he had said he would be doing.

"Mio figlio," his mother nearly wailed after him, reverting back to her native language, one she had shared with both their children even before they had learned English. "You don't have to go… Please don't go. Give it time…," she said, desperate to keep her eldest child and only son from deserting the family. He turned to her, almost considering this before noticing the stubborn set in his father's posture. If he stayed because of her begging, it would destroy their marriage of nearly twenty-five years. He was not about to do that to either of them…

"No, Madre," he responded in the same language, "devo lasciare." Responding to her in Italian seemed to set off the tears that had been threatening to fall. Not wanting to watch them, he turned; stalking off towards his room before his father could berate him further or his mother could talk him into staying. His mind was set, and it wouldn't be changed now.

He walked into his room to find his sister sitting on his bed, looking up at him expectantly. It was hard to look into those eyes, dark hazel in contrast to his own, and realize he most likely would not see her for a very long time, possibly never again. Her eyes were worried, showing just how much of the conversation she had heard.

"Don't go," she said simply, her tone pleading as he walked to the closet to grab the duffel bag there and began to put clothing into it at random. By not looking at her, he could resist the begging and pleading and puppy dog eyes his sister would try to use against him. The nine year, like many younger siblings, knew just how to play her brother's heart strings and emotions to get him to do what she wanted. Even just listening to her pleading tone while he shoved clothing into the duffel bag, just enough to get him by until he found a livelihood and place to live, made it harder to leave. If his sister and mother had teamed up they might have stood a chance…

"I have to, sorella," he responded, his hurry and the emotion of the day causing the words to mingle between languages, a common problem when anyone in his family got excited or upset by something. Running around the room trying to pack your valuables in as little time as possible was one of those times. Having his sister in there, watching him with eyes that looked about ready to burst into tears, did not help at all. He set the duffel bag down on the bed after some time, having shoved a suitable amount of clothes and a fair amount of pictures into the bag. He collapsed next to his sister, who hugged him tightly when he did so, as if this would prevent him from leaving.

"Don't go, mamma..," she started, but he waved it off with a sigh.

"She'll be fine, and so will you. Padre. He'll take care of both of you. Besides, I'm a bad influence remember?" he responded, chuckling and trying to lighten the somber mood that filled the room. "And, you can have the bigger room now." His attempts didn't seem to be helping, as the little girl just clung tighter. He sighed, putting an arm around her and ruffling her own raven hair lightly. They spent a few moments sitting in silence.

After those few moments he detached his sister from him, her eyes brimming with tears that were now starting to spill over. He had to fight to keep them from his own eyes as he stood.

"Arrivederci, mia sorella," he said, leaning down to give her a quick hug and kiss on the forehead before grabbing his duffel bag and leaving. He did not bother to stop by his parents on his way out, and as the door shut behind him there was a sense of finality. That was it. He was kicked out and on his own

The End. ^^

English to Italian- 1- Mio figlio= My son

2- No madre, devo lasciare= No, Mom, I have to leave

3- sorella- sister, padre- father

4- Arrivederci, mia sorella- Farewell, my sister

Hope you enjoyed! Please rate and review!