I don't own Katekyō Hitman Reborn!.
Guest Reviews (chronological):
Ame: (from what my school spanish could tell me XD) Luce will play a part (as she did in the original), so the Sky Arcobaleno position will stay hers. Sorry! Still, Tsuna will become important in her own way. :)
Guest 1: And here it is, the next chapter! Hopefully at least half as good as the first one. We're only starting out.
Guest 2: Thank you! I will definitely continue, though I have other stories to update, too. It might take a while sometimes, I hope you'll forgive me.
Guest Reviews – The End.
Thank you all for your kind feedback! Without further ado I present to you: Chapter 2!
Unlucky Number
Thirteen years. Reborn finds out that Tsunayoshi Sawada is thirteen years younger than him.
"Do you have to groom your sideburns every morning for them to curl up like that?"
Which is nowhere near young enough to avoid getting shot by him. But we're getting ahead of ourselves.
It's once more by pure chance that they meet again, the hitman Reborn and "Dame-Tsuna" Sawada. With the ball left behind them in light banter and an eventual goodbye, the events of that night seemed like little more than a sweet memory the next time he awoke. If she hadn't explicitly stated to be part of the Ninth's entourage he probably wouldn't even have known the family she belonged to. As it stands, they are actually both part of the Vongola, and therefore bound to meet again.
Not that he's actively wishing for it, oh no, that'd be beneath him. In his books she was entertaining but due to her age, off-limits. Any other woman he might have enticed into his bed but a little girl? That's just plain wrong. Her connections to the Ninth could prove important in the long run, though—or dangerous, depending on how well his behavior is received by the man. Reborn still doesn't know the exact space she occupies within the man's heart.
In good hitman fashion Reborn therefore decides to let the matter drop for the time being. There is no spy, there is no prey, there is nothing to gain and that is to be the best for both of them. Besides, he has to shift his attention elsewhere first; to the reason he went to the ball in the first place.
It takes the messenger two days to arrive at the hotel he's booked in Sicily. Orange flames lick at the sealed envelope and the wax seal bears the sign of a clam. Reborn hums in appreciation as he skims the content of the curt but elegantly written letter. The Ninth takes his new position seriously, more so perhaps than the fierce Lady Ottavo before him did. While her loyalty was uncontested she truly despised paperwork. Financially, Vongola's in a stump.
We'll see whether this man can get us out of it, Reborn muses as he packs his few belongings and checks out; his particular skill set is needed once more.
It is under these circumstances the young hitman finds himself driving up to the Ninth's summer residence with a smug expression on his face and the laid-back gait of overbearing confidence once he leaves the car.
And why should he not take pride in being summoned by the Ninth personally? He's earned every piece of infamy with his own two skilled hands and made sure the Vongola noticed his quick ascension through the ranks. His intentions are spurred not by loyalty entirely but something else: to work directly under a Mafia boss only means more rewarding missions. His guns have been itching for a worthwhile opponent.
In this moment of rare victorious weakness, when he's doing all but thinking of her, has nearly erased the evening from his mind, and has only the future ahead of him, Tsunayoshi Sawada decides to show him exactly how much a worthwhile opponent she is.
When he raises his hand to ring the bell the door crashes open and even his honed reflexes can't get him out of harm's way fast enough.
The wood meets with his face the moment the bullet leaves his gun. The door splinters into a thousand pieces, raining down around him, and a single one splinter brushes his cheek and draws blood.
He sees red.
"Chaos," he greets the shell-shocked assailant, dripping murderous intent into every syllable, fedora hat drawing a long shadow across his dark eyes. If his first impression as a dangerous hitman is ruined on the very doorstep to the mansion of the Ninth...
It's better not to leave any witnesses. He aims his gun at the cowering figure. Surely nobody will mind a missing maid. "Actually, let's make this arrivederci."
"Reborn?!"
He blinks at the familiarity of the voice, momentarily forgetting his rage. "You..." He lowers his gun. "What are you doing here?"
Her hair is the same unruly mess as on the night they met; even more so now that her cheeks are flushed from running and there's flour all over her clothes—
Is she as incompetent at cooking as she is at dancing? Really? She's going to make a horrible wife.
—but then his mind catches up with his observations and he can't help but wonder, this is the Ninth's private summer residence. A place only selected few are allowed to visit. Selected, trusted few like him.
What is she doing here?
She doesn't answer immediately, just straightens her dress (that's a lost cause already, judging from the chocolate smears all over the fine cloth) and smiles sheepishly. It's almost enough to make him point the gun to her head but she calculates the pause just long enough before she drops the bomb on him in her refreshingly blunt way as if his surprise is something laughable.
"Why, I live here."
No, is his first reaction, and he presses the gun under her chin. "Do you now? I find that hard to believe. You're not trailing me instead?"
Tsuna raises her hands and eyes the weapon warily. "I knew Nono would invite you over. There's no need to shadow you." Her eyes flicker up to his before she looks to the side, muttering something along the lines of 'Were you always this pushy?'.
"Yes, I was and yes, I can hear you." He withdraws his weapon and looks her over. Just like that she's all over his mind again and he can't help but see it as another game to find out more about this ball of surprise. There's a difference between the honor of being bestowed the boss' trust to come and leave his most private quarters as one pleases and the actual fact of living there with him.
She practically stands above him in rank. He can't allow that to go to her head. Reborn slips out of his black jacket and drops it into her hands. She fumbles to catch it. "Lead me to your boss," he says and her reaction doesn't disappoint.
Tsuna puffs her cheeks. "I'm no maid!"
He points at the red line marring his face. "You opened the door. Don't you know how to play host?" And he never noticed her presence coming. That's something to wonder about later, too.
For a moment she looks genuinely sorry. Then a female scream interrupts them and she spins her head around in shock and fear.
There's a real maid standing in a similarly sour state as the female next to him—all chocolate and flour—pointing at the girl with an angry face. "Tsunayoshi-sama! How dare you leave me to deal with a situation like this! The kitchen nearly burned down!"
"U-Um..." Tsuna fidgets with the jacket between her fingers.
"And didn't I tell you to change your clothes before we start cooking lessons? Look at what you've done to it!" Reborn cocks his head to the side, feeling moody. The maid is prone to screeching. He doesn't like screeching.
"But I wore an apron—"
"That caught on fire!"
A shot stops the two women from fighting and they finally turn their attention back to the hitman. Reborn rights his fedora before looking down at the definitely Very Important Person in this mansion that's managed to burn down a kitchen. Way to go about ruining first impressions. "I have a meeting. You either lead me to it or I will perforate you with lead. Your choice."
She's quick to jump at the chance to escape, leading him up the stairs. He can't believe what he's gotten into. She's important, lives with the most important man in the Vongola, is therefore under his protection and managed to sneak a door-attack on him. Yet she can't dance, cook, nor properly walk up the stairs without stumbling once. And still she has him intrigued with her clever, confident and contradicting ways.
If they're bound to see more of each other, he'll make sure to find out who exactly this girl is before he makes his decision on whether to put her on his good or bad graces.
His guns are itching for a worthwhile opponent after all.
The truth is revealed to him within the first couple weeks of his visits. It doesn't make it any easier to digest.
After the rather turbulent and anticlimactic reunion—for there is little left of the wonders of that evening but cinders—he is faced with the reality of balancing business with his private leisure. His first meeting with the Ninth went down surprisingly friendly. Timoteo is as pleasant and benign as his reputation precedes him. He also has a stack of papers on his desk just waiting to be looked over. Formidable so far.
Yet even the friendliest of men needs someone to do the dirty work for him. When Reborn leaves the richly decorated room it is with two new envelopes; both new targets for him. Cleaning up is most important after a new succession after all. Until the winds of change have settled and accepted the Ninth into his position he'll have a familiar list of names to browse through.
After a particularly fast mission—his target raised the white flag the moment he recognized the hitman after his life as Reborn—he returns to the mansion early and catches the girl wandering the hallways on her own. She's usually among the first to greet him back the moment he enters the foyer and should that fail, she stays close to the Ninth's office to intercept him from there. Tsunayoshi Sawada is curious about him for some reason; always trying to draw out stories of his contracts past and present.
His mind warns him that she's too young, too admiring, to genuine, but every once in a while he gives in. Her eyes light up in unveiled fascination whenever he does. Receiving that kind of attention strokes his ego in just the right ways. She makes for the best audience.
He finds himself looking forward to his visits to the summer residence for more than the rewards he gets. "Chaos, Tsuna," he says in greeting and the wandering girl stops dead in her tracks. The changes in her face are visible for all to see: dazzled confusion at being caught idling to a warm smile of welcoming recognition.
"Reborn! You're back early," she answers in return, making a bee-line for the hitman and stopping only inches from him. She looks at him from beneath her lashes. "Welcome back."
He lazily points a gun at her. "Don't believe you're cute if you do something like that."
"HIE! I won't, I won't!" Tsuna backs off a few feet. "Maria usually greets one of our other hitman like this. He looks so happy when she does. You're always grumpy."
One moment this girl tempts him with big, brown eyes, the next she is completely oblivious. Reborn pockets his gun away. "That's because Maria has different assets than you." Assets as in breasts. Large ones. And he knows the hitman—Francesco—is all about big breasts and a valley to lose himself in. "For one: she combs her hair." She doesn't need to know every detail.
Tsuna puffs her cheeks. She's just fourteen. He's heard one of the maids speak of her upcoming fifteenth birthday. Just a child, so why does he bother? "It's not like I can tame it anyway. Got it from my father." She looks defiantly to the side.
Ah, he knows now why he bothers with her. It's far too much fun to manipulate her. "Your father?" Come to think of it, he's yet to find out. She can't possibly be the Ninth's child. The man's far too young to father a teenage child. It would have compromised his rise through the ranks.
She looks lost in thoughts again. "Mhm. Tall guy, wild hair, really strong." She looks him in the eye. "You haven't met him yet?"
Even if the first fascination has worn off, Reborn always finds himself musing about her ability to look him straight in the eyes without appearing nervous. "No, I don't believe I've been so lucky."
"It's better like that," she says, face blanching. She doesn't like her father? Interesting. "Nono went to rest an hour ago. If you don't mind waiting with me, there's lunch in the dining hall." With a smile and a playful curtsy she evades the topic of her background once more. Her eyes twinkle and he can't shake off the feeling that he's being toyed with. But she's only fourteen, how can she toy with him?
Then he remembers the ball and how she cleverly used a waiter as a lure to distract him. And suddenly he finds himself believing in her abilities again.
He'll never give her the satisfaction of holding the upper hand over him; he's only let her feel superior with her playfullness. He could've easily found out via different means but he wants to crack her. Before she manages to flee the room he catches her wrist between his fingers. "Maybe I'll meet the man on my travels. I should greet him properly."
Ah, he does have a short temper when it comes to losing at his own games. Tsuna chuckles. Reborn almost wants to reach for his gun again.
The girl nods, lips pursed and Reborn squints his eyes at her. Oh no, you're not winning. "You still haven't found out?" Her eyes flicker with amusement.
His gaze turns into a glare. "What is that supposed to mean?"
"I thought you'd have asked Nono about me by now." She grins and he feels doom rush towards him. There it is again, the born Mafia spirit pushing the little girl away. "Your pride is bigger than I imagined. With the way you always try to steer conversations back to me to—HIE!"
The hitman points a gun at the girl and she shrieks back before ducking into a crouch with her hands above her head. As if that would help, silly girl. Told you you wouldn't win. "Keep talking while you're at it." He simply loves to demonstrate his dominance.
She eyes the gun with a guarded expression but the tension in her shoulder loosens a bit. It doesn't mean he's stopped aiming the weapon at her. "My father is part of CEDEF." Tentatively she stands up again.
He releases the security switch on the weapon. Goosebumps come and go on her soft flesh as she processes the sound. "And?" Reborn asks with a wicked, impatient smile. "There's a lot of people in CEDEF whose children aren't here."
"Well," she starts, glancing between his shadowed eyes and the black end of his gun. For a child she manages to keep her composure around him better than most adults. Of course she is distrustful of his weapon—who wouldn't be?—but she's not distrustful of him per se. Again a fascinating, clashing contrast of girl and mafioso. "My father is a special case. He's the external advisor."
There's a long silence following her statement.
"How the hell did you manage to become so No Good at life with that kind of guy as father?"
"Reborn!" she exclaims and shoves his gun away fearlessly. "I knew you'd insult me again!"
It's not like he—a twenty-seven year old adult—isn't capable of courtesy, but...
"You can't cook." Silence. "Nor behave as is expected of someone of your status." Silence and a reddening face. "You do know you're supposed to eat soup with a spoon?"
That's the last straw. The wet fork clashes into the plate. "Reborn!" It's starting to become a common sound, the way she calls his name. She crosses her arms and fumes silently. "That's why I didn't want to tell you," the girl mutters.
Maybe he's a little too harsh with her. That's just him being himself, though. Always the sweet talker. "I'm just stating the obvious. I can't believe you're that man's daughter."
Ietsuna Sawada, the head of CEDEF. He should've connected the two earlier but to do that would be to compare apples and oranges. He's never seen the man in person, only ever brief encounters from afar. The external advisor knew how to hide his existence well. His calculating, manipulative reputation precedes him, draws a long shadow over the whole of Italy; perhaps that's why he's earned the name 'Shadow King'.
The man is a living legend. If it weren't for him, Vongola territory would be dotted with small-scale wars thanks to the Eight's temper. She means well but her sense for justice is too grand for a corrupt organization such as the Mafia. Only the external advisor manages to calm her down and force her into patience, or so the story goes.
Truly, Reborn is capable of courtesy but this piece of information is simply scandalous. He has to make fun of it lest he loses all respect for his own Family. His gut feeling hasn't been wrong when he thought her interesting and intriguing but this is just laughable.
He also can't stand the fact the she's even higher ranked now compared to him. It does wound his skillful ego. If things continued like this, it's his head on a platter when something goes wrong. He doesn't like babysitting rich and important brats. They take offense too easily and if he shoots them he's in more trouble than is worth the shot.
Besides, it's been so much fun threatening the girl into obedience that it's not easy to stop it now. Too bad.
"I'm not that bad," Tsuna says out of the blue and he wonders if his expression slipped. Then he realizes she's talking about something else. She takes the spoon between her fingers. "Mom prefers her daughter alive and well. That's why I spent my summers here, so that I can be taught proper etiquette and the like. Lady training, she calls it." He barely hears the next statement over the clinking of the cutlery. "The ball was the first time I went out in public on my own."
The dining hall isn't as grand as in the headquarters but it's still sizeable. Yet it manages to retain a certain coziness, as if it's trying to suggerate a familiarity between the inhabitans of this house. They sit on opposite sites of the table and Reborn has briefly wondered why there is no one but them eating when it's so clearly built for more.
Now he knows why. The girl has been sheltered and protected her whole life. And she clings to him because he is the complete opposite. "Well, lady training isn't such a success, either," he retorts and wipes his mouth before he reaches for the meatier food.
Tsuna throws him a glare. For a moment he sees orange flames licking at her dark irises but he shakes it off as an hallucination of sorts. "Do you want me to throw my unused fork at you?"
"You're going to need it for the next course. I would advise against it."
"You really are blunt." After that she retreats back to eating but he knows it's only for the moment. She always comes back to him eventually. One day he'll manage to insult her enough for her to grow irritated with him. It's not the first time it's happened and maybe that is for the best though the thought sits sour on his mind. She really is a formidable target. He doesn't like his entertainment falling on the short side.
The silence stretches on for a long time, broken only by the sound of cutlery and an old clock on the wall ticking away. The silence is comfortable, at least for him, and it gives him time to mull about this new information.
Her comeback catches him off-guard entirely. Thirteen years. Tsunayoshi Sawada is thirteen years younger than him, he tries to remind himself.
"Do you have to groom your sideburns every morning for them to curl up like that?"
Which is nowhere near young enough to avoid getting shot by him. "You choose the worst questions to die over," he says, suddenly at her side with his gun raised to her temple.
All she does is chuckle and if he hasn't caught her fingers fidgeting nervously, he'd have thought she doesn't mind the weapon at all.
He has the freedom to do whatever he likes to the most elite subjects in the Mafia, all thanks to his reputation—and here is a little girl deliberately provoking him, trying to best him at his own game. He's had bulkier man worshipping his every footstep with a reverence bordering on fear. But she doesn't even apologize. For a fourteen-year-old she is quite the daring sight in that regard.
Reborn withdraws his weapon and looks at the girl with the dishevelled hair. Her mother might have tried to protect her but this girl has a stronger will than most. "You have guts." And against all logical reason that tells him to leave her be, he finds himself drawn to the fact that she is that way unlike most other rich brats. Not that he'll ever tell her.
"Thank you." The orange in her eyes is warm and soft. "Can I ask you a favor?"
For a moment he feels toyed with again; wonders how much of their interactions was planned ahead. She is Ietsuna's daughter after all and she's tricked him once at the ball already. Perhaps there is something to the cursed number thirteen that has the two of them dancing around each other like this. "What exactly can I do for the lady?" he asks with mock-courtesy.
She picks it up but this time she stays calm and collected. "Can you teach me how to shoot?"
Perhaps there is more entertainment to be found after all.
A/N:
Phew, this was a toughie. I had to get things started somehow and this felt like the best way to do it. If you find something sounding odd, don't be afraid to tell me. Thank you all again for the Alerts and Favorites and Reviews so far! They made my day(s). :) Until next time!