This may seem a bit out of nowhere, but I started thinking and the idea drifted, and I had wanted to write a Mafia!Wife!Kyoko fic and this seemed to be the perfect idea. So….despite the weirdness, please enjoy and PLEASE review? This is a short, prologue chapter.
Now I don't know if I've made it well known, but I have neither love nor hate for Kyoko and the other girls in the series. This being said, I don't have many developed head-canons or personalities for Kyoko, Haru, or Hana, and all will play roles in this story. So I implore my dearest readers to give me feedback, both on this as a concept and structure, as well as the characters I am not entirely used to writing.
Summary: The mafia had many ways of spreading their information, one of those ways was through books. Not Mafia books, regular, publically available, fiction books. You might not think that your romance novel, or detective thriller means much to more than its fans. However, if you have the knowledge and the training, like all Mafia people –from Boss to the lowest grunt –do, you can see that there is much to be learnt from the newest instalment of a much loved series. Kyoko, having learnt this knew what she must do. She must join the rat-race and write her own book. Now, Sonnet may seem like your average fiction novel –of not a strange cross of crime and advice –but to the Made Women of the mafia it was so much more. Sonnet translated to something much different: How to survive as a Mafia wife: the guide rising amongst the men. From which dressed failed to meet the mark this year, to the newest poisons and their purpose, Kyoko writes it all.
Beta'd by my overwhelmed Pure Red Cane.
Sonnet: A Mafia Wife's survival guide.
In recent years, an up-and-coming young author had been making a name for herself. Her international sales grew almost exponentially once her books were available and her name was a well-known name amongst many. Her newest book, Sonnet, was released a month ago and had already sold out in Italy, America, and Japan.
Sonnet, like the other three of its series, followed the life of Mira, a quiet fashion designer from England who dreamed of being a police officer. The little story was a strange mix of action and crime with a dash of romance, though it was rarely mentioned. It was a charming story. In its third instalment, Mira was already on her way out of being the rookie of her division. Using her knowledge of clothing and her wit, she was making quite a name for herself, all the while giving quirky but useful advice. Funnily enough, the book was the top ranking of self-help books, which amused its readers to no end, many of whom thought the author was being whimsical with her genre organization.
However, while the general populace fawned over the quirky tale and big dreams of Mira Younge, another group of people –predominantly women– were drawn to the newest instalment of the Younge Series for completely different reasons. This group had many ways of telling secrets and keeping up to date with goings-on in their world. They couldn't risk reports going astray. Yearly updates were of the utmost importance to them and the inner workings of their corporations.
After all, the Mafia ran on information, information that was kept as far away from civilian as possible.
It may seem strange, it certainly did to Kyoko as she learnt all this, but it really was the best front available. Novels were sold worldwide. They brought in some amazing revenue and buying one was unsuspicious, especially the more popular that novel turned out to be. After all, why would a series, unpopular and unprofitable, still be sold on the shelves? The trick, for the Mafia was writing books as amazing as the civilian authors, because then their secrets were safe. After all, where do you hide a rock but on the shore?
Kyoko grinned. She was incredibly surprised the first time her tutor –Hana, Haru and three in the form of Lal, Bianchi, and Yuni's mother, Aria– had explained this information to her. After all, as Bianchi listed off the books, Kyoko was somewhat horrified to find many of her favourites dotted in the titles. But, she had been so curious about it all, especially when she and her friends managed to pick up the cues and subtle name drops woven in the novels with little difficulty or strain.
She found out it was all about knowing. If you knew what to look for, if you really read into it, and if you studied your history, you could pick out every little detail.
Kyoko grew to see that Angelo's famiglia was still trying to ally themselves with a Spanish family. All with little result of course. An idiot would miss that the Spanish family only went to sister branches for their drugs.
Kyoko could read in the lines of a pitiful marriage proposal, that a famiglia in Kenya had developed a poison that was sweeping the nation. She could also see that Verde was developing a serum, and was selling it to the highest bidder.
She even saw of Vongola, and the Varia. She could read about their profits and losses, and the unease surrounding the little known heir.
But while she learnt all this, while she read and she devoured information, she and her girls –because they were growing into an assassination group of their own, different and kinder than others but dangerous none the less– realised that there was very little for the women of the mafia.
It made Kyoko so angry, because they were still treated like delicate trophies. Hitwomen were laughed at. If they were strong and skilled enough to garner respect, it was only as Hitmen. She heard tales when Tsuna came back from meetings –seething, he was so sensitive– of women being smacked in front of his eyes. He told her about girls married off like cattle, and of children being abused to bring out dormant flames.
It infuriated them both. It made them both hold each other a little tighter at night while they cried, swearing they would never allow their family to be a victim to any of it.
But that still meant nothing, because women weren't treated as equal. They didn't have a book or a series for them. They didn't have a chapter giving them the information they needed to know about hiding weapons. They didn't have reports on the aide groups for assault. They didn't get yearly updates on weaponry and poisons made for women specifically. They didn't get to read up on alliances amongst wives or the unease amongst some women about alliances, drugs, and enemies.
It was unfair. It wasn't right. It made Kyoko both furious and sorrowful.
"Why don't you change that?" Tsuna had asked one evening, almost three years into their relationship, both just eighteen, when they were cuddling with hot-chocolate. It had been three years since they lived in the Vongola mansion and it was home to her and all their friends.
Kyoko had looked at her smug boyfriend with an incredulous expression. After all, she was unknown in the Mafia. They kept her a secret. In fact, everyone outside the Guardians and Tsuna himself were kept faceless and nameless. All the Mafia knew was that Tsunayoshi had brought over a large, extended family from Japan. Still, even with everything she had learnt over the three years, Kyoko didn't think she could make a difference.
She didn't know that she already was.
Tsuna could see that her and their friends (from Chrome as a guardians to Hana as their head lawyer) were changing the mafia, even if it was on a lesser level than Tsuna himself. They were drawing mafia women and girls to their side, giving them something to look forward to. Giving them hope and strength. Kyoko, Haru, Hana, and Chrome, and even I-pin took shit from no-one. Tsuna and the guardians made it very obvious that they expected and valued any input from the girls. Tsuna made it known that Kyoko wasn't a trophy bride. She and Tsuna weren't arranged to marry. They were dating. The girls made it obvious that they had weapons and knew how to use them.
They were Mafia women. They were Hitwomen. And they were proud of that.
"I couldn't, Tsu-kun." Kyoko admonished with a smack on the arm.
Tsuna just kissed her scalp with a grin, his intuition working with knowledge that he was giving Kyoko the last push she needed. "I believe in you."
That conversation was almost four years ago.
Tsuna walked into the family room, sighing in relief now that his day was over. It was a big, round room with a large fireplace and a larger flat-screen TV above it. It connected to one of their personal libraries and a powder room. It also acted as the go-between of the main castle, where all the offices and training rooms were, and the hall-way to the Guardians and close family or guests' bedrooms. Tsuna smiled, however, when he noticed a few of his guardians scattered on the various couches and seats. Lambo and Fuuta were curled up on the nest of couches in the corner. Takeshi was draped in the chair and Ryohei was spread across the four seater couch to the left of the fire place. It made Tsuna unexplainably warm to know how comfortable his guardians were here.
And not just his guardians.
As he rounded the couch, the brunet noted another person sitting there, typing on a laptop and sipping on herbal tea. She was wrapped up in a blanket and wearing her baggy grey sweater. Tsuna could see that she had fluffy socks and her shortest sleeping shorts on. It made him internally purr. He laughed the next moment when he spotted Hana sleeping against her thigh. Ryohei was a wriggler when he slept on the couch, so it was no surprise that the woman would prefer the quiet typing of her friend for her afternoon nap. Tsuna leant over the side of the couch, catching the almost-blonde's eyes, and stole a kiss that had them both humming.
"Welcome home, sweetheart." Kyoko smiled, her left hand running across Tsuna's face. The brunet's right hand caught hers and pressed it against his cheek, leaning into the warmth while his fingers rolled the two rings on her hand. They were the engagement ring he had given her four years ago, and the family ring that had joined it on their wedding day three years ago.
"How was your day?" Tsuna asked, leaning his forehead against hers, a habit they had developed early in their relationship when Tsuna had woken up from a two month a coma and Kyoko had been at a loss. It became their greeting, their reassurance. It became a sacred thing, and when witnessed, in public or private, it brought a sense of dread and pride. Dread to enemies, because it proved that without a doubt, the promise of death loomed over whoever should with harm one of the precious pair, and pride because the Vongola Guardians knew their centre was strong with the love that filtered throughout their famiglia/family. "I hope it wasn't too loud, I know Haru was getting back from a mission this morning, and I think Mukuro was going drinking this afternoon."
Kyoko just kissed Tsuna's lips gently, making sure not to knock her laptop off her lap. "No, it was quiet. Lambo missed you, though he calmed down when I-Pin got back from training.
Tsuna looked over to Lambo with a slight frown. He sighed and scrubbed his hair as he stood. "I will take him out for gelato tomorrow, just him and me."
Kyoko smiled and linked their hands. "He'll love that, darling." Her smile was soft and it was full of love. Tsuna returned it. "Do you want to sit? I can move Hana."
But Tsuna was smoothing her hair before she could even think of standing. "Don't worry. I'm just going to get changed and go train for a while. I only wanted to check on you first." Tsuna's grin was cheeky and Kyoko knew that he was likely going to go train with Kyouya, probably testing a new technique. "Don't work too hard." he explained, kissing her knuckles and walking away.
"Don't make too much of a mess. Reborn might be proud of your power, but I'm sure that ruining yet another training room won't impress him much."
Tsuna just laughed. "I'm the one who does the paperwork for it. My old man just needs to let it go."
Kyoko could only chuckle at that. No matter what Reborn said, he was more than proud of his student, turned saviour, turned son. He just liked making Tsuna's life miserable. Once upon a time, that was with four a.m. training sessions. Now it was with paperwork.
As she watched her husband –and how her stomach flipped thinking about it– walk away and strip out of his suit, Kyoko continued to write, smiling at herself and petting Hana's head. She wrote the story of Mira, though it read very, very differently.
Note: What you are currently reading, is the translation of Sonnet by A. K. Beretta. This is to be used for training, personal or familial business and purposes only. It is not to be published, or sold elsewhere, or else the Don in question will be subject to elimination. Hard copies of translations should be destroyed as soon as their purposes have been met. Training to read works of this nature should start post-haste to keep the nature of these works in order. Should any confidential information, within or about the author, from this piece of work be leaked, elimination will be the minimum payment. Copywriter protected by Bermuda Von Vindice Inc.
Acknowledgements: Being a Mafia wife and my credentials.
First it needs to be noted that to be a Mafia bosses Wife you need to be strong. Not in the sense of being able to toss men across fields, or break necks with thighs; though that will always be an asset. A Mafia wife needs strength of will, more so than the men in many instances.
Strength in will is not just that which brings dying will flames into our husband and wives hands.
The Strength of will I speak of is a different sort.
A mafia wife must be strong enough, in her body, to fend off the threats of enemy famiglia to her and her own. Her children will depend on her for many years, to a greater extent than they will depend on their fathers. You must be strong enough to defend yourself, for your husband will depend on you. You are family.
A mafia wife must also have the strength of her emotions. Whether you are a mafia women through generations, or have entered the mafia now through marriage, you need to be prepared to hide away your emotions.
When we meet new bosses we must not show fear, or disgust. When we are at parties with enemy and ally we mustn't let anyone know of our biases. Parties are for socialising, but also for scouting.
However, beyond that, there will be times that your husband needs you to be his rock. There will be times when he comes home covered in blood (his own, his enemies, and his subordinates) and he will need you to love him still. He will need you to show no fear, to not shy away, and to let him break against you. When he is healed, he will heal you in return.
Until then though, a Mafia Wife must be strong in will, for she is in a life now where death is an inevitability, and every time the husband you love arrives home, alive you should be thankful.
There are politics, and monies at work as a Mafia wife. You must dress a certain way, you must act a certain way. We have little power in the sway of alliances right now, but that will change. The wrong dress and heel here will ruin your reliability and will tarnish the reputation of your husband and your family.
It is a difficult life. There is little to no room for mistake or deficiency. You cannot risk buying last year's dress, and there is little hope in making it yourself.
Being a Mafia boss isn't easy, being a wife is just as difficult in some ways but we are all queens in our field. We are stronger than any women in the light, for we have to be. Despite the pedigree we are born or brought into, it is difficult. Sometimes we will fall, sometimes we must cry for our boys, sometimes we must bury our babies. However, we will continue, we will be the goddesses that enemies fawn over, the wife that no other man but our own should look at. We will rise above the men, because that is what we do. That is what we're capable of.
In these pages, all who read it are equal, and of the same cloth. We, here, are Mafia Wives. The reports and advice here are for all. We are united where our husbands are divided.
Now, many of you may be asking why this chapter was included, and perhaps you were wondering if it was necessary. It is a chapter I include every year, a disclaimer of sorts. I am married to a Mafia boss, my husband is well known and powerful, and I am just as powerful. He makes me the proudest wife, and I return the favour. So, the words in this report come from a credible source; I am a Mafia Wife myself, I have been married to my husband for three years. That being said it is obvious that I have not been in the business of the mafia as long as some of my friends, and so I need to make sure my readers understand.
This is not a step-by-step guide to being a Mafia Wife. This isn't a completed report of the year's alliances and stock exchanges, nor is it a 'dummies guide to the mafia'; because I know my readers are not dummies. You do not need to be hand-held through your life as a wife, or a made-mafia-woman. This is a collection of things I know, of things I find lacking in the world of the Mafia. This is a woman's guide to the year that has past.
Throughout this book there will be chapters on what alliances took place, both which had an impact on the day-to-day proceedings of our world, but also those one might overlook.
However, this book is not just one of those reports our husbands and their advisors wait for every year, after all we can freely access those, in fact I am expected and pleased to look over them myself when my husband does. It is always good to be in the know.
No, this book is aimed to be a guide to living well and happy as a Mafia wife, especially as things change. My Last book focused on weddings, engagements, and births. This book is a collection far more diverse.
There is a change happening, my husband and I are trying our best to make it happen. Therefore, as we move towards our goal, we know the ripples may well effect you and yours, as a woman I fear the harm of all of you and thus, within these pages, coded in a way only my fellow Women will understand, are the resources you need should things move for the worst.
So without further question or delay, this is the 2015 guide to living as a mafia wife. The men may still underestimate us, but we will rise above it. My husband and I implore you to be safe and wish you and yours a good year to come.
Signed,
Kyoko Sawada di Vongola.