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-LOVE, PEACE & WAR-

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It seems like immortality is real. And, immortal life is possible.

Furthermore, the frantic hunt and protection over the secret of immortality continues today- chaotically, violently, and all around the world, and yet absolutely shrouded in mystery inside the silhouetted world of the Mafia.

But amidst the maddening 300 hundred-year-old secret conflict, some of the immortal Alchemists from 1711 Europe are up to no-good with their own personal demons and corrupted agendas during their time watching the all corners of the world around them, especially the parts shrouded by mystery, change drastically.

By: chibigurl305

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"Is family… a good or bad thing?"

"It depends. Just how crazy are your folks?"

By: Me and a good friend of mine

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Chapter 2: in Which Change, Accidents and Coincidences are Inevitable for the Innocent and the Ominous, Who Wait to Strike from within the Shadows

Yes, things have changed for Clara- some scary, some not as scary- but still pretty darn scary. For one thing, Clara is in a private jet plane with the Varia and the boss, heading to Japan for a mission. A mission that supposed to be mafia related. (Y'know, because the Varia is a Mafia assassination squad and everything- Clara is still trying to pretend that this is ok.)

Well, this is all fine and dandy; except for one thing- CLARA IS somehow INVOVLED. Not only does Clara want nothing to do with the mission itself, but being in constant presence with the Varia and the Boss doesn't sit well with little Clara. (Or with her overall health.)

It's not like she hates them; oddly enough, she likes the pack of killers a little too much for her own comfort. She literally has no reason to not hate them all. Sure, they're obnoxiously loud and curse enough to make a Sailor scold them for bad language, but they're spontaneous and nothing is ever boring with them, which Clara feels very fortunate about. Nothing is more horrible than awkward silence. Or boredom. And they haven't tried to kill Clara directly (yet).

But, killers are killers. And what do killers do? Take a wild guess. Yeah! They kill!

Even worse, they terrorize civilized people with their mere presence.

…You don't believe Clara?

Well guess how the Varia got their Cloud Guardian, that giant freakin' robot thing, Gola Mosca, onto an airplane?

Oh, just a hint, they're using a commercial airplane, so they actually had to go through airport security.

Another hint; each Varia member (except Xanxus cause he was more interested in the tequila bottle in his hand… isn't it a felony to work while being drunk?) was equipped with 500,000Volt Cattle-prods upon entry of the Palermo Airport.

Hint no. 3: Lussuria didn't want to scare all of the Italian locals and travelers so he put a giant pink (it was his) blanket so no-one would be suspicious. Even though the girlie blanket covered about forty percent of the Gola Mosca and only got people to stare even more. Which resulted in the zapping of the living daylights out of the entire Airport staff, travelers and locals.

By the time Clara and the Varia got onto the un-boarded plane, one of the two pilots was electrocuted, curtesy of Bel. Squalo took it upon himself as a tidy and responsible (this… is actually true…) man to push the body of the unconscious pilot off the plane before the conscious pilot, who had a cattle-prod at his neck, was forced to fly the airplane to their destination, for free (Curtesy of Marmon).

Just like terrorists. Italian terrorists.

And Clara was in an airplane full of them, already a hundred miles in the air.

And they expect Clara to go on a mission, which no one bothered to explain to Clara as Lussuria rushed into her room earlier in the morning with bags and bags of clothes, and rushed her inside the plane, barely giving Clara enough time to change into the outfit Lussuria picked out. (Said outfit consisted of thigh-length white and red striped pull-over sweater with a hoodie, dark jeans that the flamboyant man cuffed and a pair of red converse.)

Not even adding the whole partial kidnapping and emotional trauma part of the trip so far, the maid is still rather upset with her higher-ups. Cattle-prods? Seriously?

"Well at least I wasn't the one who got shocked," Clara tried to stay optimistic. (This is unusual for the average French person.)

Clara tuned out the sound (once you start working for the Varia for more than a couple of weeks, you learn to tune out everything except Squalo's voice) of sobbing that was coming from the emotionally abused pilot. She ignored his existence and put a fist under her head and stared out the airplane window. Her eyes caught the sight of her sleeve that wasn't her usual dark colored uniform. It's designer. The maid frowned.

Clara liked clothes and shopping. She really does. The only reason she doesn't go out and go shopping like any typical French person is because of Xanxus's ridiculously small paychecks he signs off to his mansion staff (actually, Squalo does all of Xanxus's paper-work, the lazy bastard). Yeah, try buying a recent outfit at 2.50$ an hour. (IS PAYCHECK THAT SMALL EVEN LEGAL? Oh wait; this is the Varia, never mind.)

But, now Clara gets free clothes from any designer she wants, since Lussuria is buying it all from his assassination money (that seems basically endless). So why complain, right? There's one good reason. Lussuria is a shopaholic/spawn-of-Satan when it comes to dressing people up. When Clara got her first 'makeover' Lussuria almost gave her welts from pushing her around and shoving clothes with hangers still on them at her.

Apparently, picking out and trying-out new clothes with a Maui-Thai master ain't fun.

Imagine that craziness.

But it things can't get much crazier than being on an airplane with a group of psycho super-assassins for a few hours. Yeah, try sleeping through a Man-Shark's shouts, creepy laughter and glass breaking while an extremely flamboyant gay guy talks to you non-stop about the new Gucci fashion line. Clara has had better plane rides, she really has.

It's safe to say that Clara didn't sleep until Xanxus (who amazingly enough brought his chair along on the plane… it's just there, there's not even any seal-belts holding him or the chair in place… wtf?) who felt like sleeping, and forced everyone to shut up with his twin pistols.

The poor, unfortunate Maid wishes she could do that (The whole, 'bring your comfortable chair everywhere you go' and make everyone shut up with guns… must be good to be Boss!)

Soon enough, the plane landed in a forest somewhere in Japan. The maid was relieved that they made it without complications, excluding the whole 'destroying the airport' thing. Forgetting about 500,00Volt Cattle-prods would be nice too. And if luck is on Clara's side, maybe she'll actually find out why the hell she's in Japan, but hey, no one gets what they want! (Note the sarcasm…)

The Varia got up and started to storm out of the Airplane, and Clara followed.

Clara was happy to start walking- eight hours is never kind to your body if you're in a chair the entire time. It makes your legs go painfully numb.

So Clara basically stumbled like a schizophrenic drunk the entire way from the private jet to the ground. If Lussuria wasn't there to yank her arm every time she stumbled, Clara's face would be indented in the forest dirt.

Xanxus's chair was carried by Squalo and Levi (and THAT is how his chair is moved, children!) and the rest of the Varia followed, and also an oddly placed Clara.

Xanxus, Squalo and Levi were in front, Lussuria and Clara walked side by side behind them, and Bel, Mammon and Fran were in the back.

"Ah, here we are in Japan~" Lussuria cooed in Japanese with his hand to his face, the pinky finger on his other hand was up… gaily. "Yup." Clara duly noted the green and flourish forest, and yet sensing a hidden menacing vibe from it. Clara immediately edged closer to the Homo-Assassin.

"Maid, the Prince has a question for you," Prince Bel sang out as he walked faster to reach Clara's shoulder. "Alright…" Clara voiced cautiously. You just can't trust royalty these days. "Why do you know how to speak Japanese?" Clara blinked; the question that Bel asked… is normal?

"The Ninth made me learn." Clara recited at the memory when the Ninth, while smiling, dropped a big and heavy French-to-Japanese dictionary in her lap and told her to learn soon as possible. Thirteen year old Clara was too eager to please, and actually ended up with intense migraines for months after shoving so many foreign words into her head all at once.

Then the young maid broke out into random Japanese fits weeks after. People thought she was a 'special' girl and gave her candy and attention, to Clara's delight. It wasn't until Clara finally learned about Special-Ed people did she realize she was being pitied, not loved dearly by the mansion staff. Disappointment, humiliation and embarrassment followed.

Good times, good times.

"Hm? Really? I think that's how Squalo came about to learn Japanese!" Lussuria exclaimed to Clara's vague answer.

"VOI, JUST WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DISCUSING BEHIND MY BACK, YOU FUCKING FAG?" Squalo shouted when he heard his name being said in the Homo-assassin's voice. He staggered from the power of his own yelling, as he nearly fell over while under Xanxus's heavy chair.

Clara blanched at the bluntness and of Squalo's words, and Bel just snickered, but Lussuria seemed to ignore it with a big, sunny smile as he talked about French designers Clara knew nothing about.

To save herself from any possible super-punches from the Flamboyant Assassin who has a scarily dark side, Clara nodded and 'uh-huh'ed while the Homo-Assassin rambled on without really listening. Bel went back behind Clara and Lussuria to bug Fran and Mammon, Xanxus's heavy chair was getting increasingly heavy on Squalo's back. If Levi complained (which is not possible, anyway) no one cared.

"I really wish I knew why the hell I'm in Japan right now," Clara thought absent-mindedly as she listened particularly to Lussuria's speech/documentary on… whatever he's talking about. "I wonder if they'll kill me if I ask. Isn't it a mafia-thing to kill people when they find something out?"

Clara decided to be brave, and hopefully, in the worst case scenario, Clara will be let off with only a finger missing. Hopefully.

"Monsieur Lussuria, if you don't mind me asking," Clara paused to let Lussuria nod in acknowledgement. "Why am I in Japan?" Lussuria's smile faltered for a moment before smiling sheepishly. "Ah, well… you see Clara-chan…"

Loud-ass yelling followed.

"YOU DIDN'T EVEN TELL HER ANYTHING?" Squalo practically stabbed Lussuria with his glaring eyes. "Ah, well we were in a hurry…" Lussuria defended himself, with his pinky up in a homo-manner.

Clara saw the gesture, and wondered how gay one man can be. WHEN IS IT GAY ENOUGH? "Oh, whatever I actually don't care" Clara admitted inside her head. Gay people never did Clara wrong before, and Clara hopes it stays that way. Especially that this particular homo has killed men with that one particular pinky he's holding up there in the air.

"THAT'S A SHITTY EXCUSE FOR BEING A RETARD! WHAT ARE YOU DOING JUST STANDING THERE? TELL THE STUPID MAID" Clara twitched at the insult; "ABOUT THE MISSION SO THAT WE CAN ALL J-" Xanxus had enough ear-damage. So, he ripped a young tree that was at his side from its roots and smashed it over Squalo's head with a very thick sound. Surprisingly (shouldn't he be used to this already?), Squalo fell down on his face from the 'mild' attack, leaving Levi straining to keep Xanxus's chair level to the ground. Levi had the look of an elder man who didn't eat enough fiber, and was paying the consequences for it- in the bathroom.

Bel laughed, and Clara couldn't hold back a smile.

Ah, violence and dirty imaginations in the morning!

Just as Squalo was getting back up to see what the hell hit him, his jaw went slack. "What the fuck-?" Squalo muttered when he saw the up-rooted tree was metal on the inside but had bark as an outside; like a robot disguised like a tree. Lussuria made a sound that sounded like a gasp, and everyone else was silent staring at the robotic tree trunk.

Squalo lifted up the trunk from the ground, and metal bullets fell to the ground with little 'clicks' from somewhere inside the tree/machine. "Oh my, what's going on?" Lussuria pondered out-loud.

"Ushishishishi~ I think this mountain was made to be like Death Mountain back home," Bel laughed again at the coincidence of landing here of all places.

Clara immediately blanched at Bel's words. Bad memories? Oh yeah. Clara remembers vividly well of the day she got lost in the middle of Death Mountain when she decided to take a stroll around the Varia base (Worst idea ever, by the way). Machine-gun trees, super-beavers of death, poisonous acid that looks and smells like water, fiery acid waterfalls, slopes with diamond-dusted metal spikes (meaning they can cut through anything), randomly concealed Lava pits, giant man-eating leeches, and so much more…

The only reason she survived is because Xanxus had a tantrum that day and burned a good part of the forest, and the lower-ranking Varia members to put it out before it spread, thus letting them find Clara before her lungs could turn black from the smoke that his 'Flames of Rage' put out.

That was the only day Clara has been appreciative of Xanxus, ever. (The job doesn't count, because she suffers more than she gains.) And that day doesn't pay back for the amount of sheer potential law suit money she has against him and every Varia member. Of course Clara won't go to court with any of that, in case of a 'surprise' death by blue tentacles.

"I think I'll go wait in the plane, then. I'll come and meet up with you guys… when the mountain rots away…" Clara muttered shakily. The maid half ran, half strode, back to the direction of the plane. However, the Varia has other plans.

Before Clara could make her escape, Bel held tight onto her hood before she could walk past him. No, no, no, no, NO! Do not want satanic mountain! DO NOT WANT!

Despite the panicking emotions flowing through Clara, she kept a straight face that revealed nothing. "You're not going anywhere; you got a job to do." The prince grinned.

"What job?" Clara, who was beyond irritated, shouted the Prince. He only laughed that creepy laugh, which made Squalo sigh… loudly.

It was then, when all the trees, every one in every direction, tilted backwards, away from the group, and opened up like Pez-dispensers. The sound of wood clacking reached the assassins' ears as they drew out their weapons, and raised their fits- save for the Boss who stood in his chaired and with a bored expression, ignited his hand with fire (Squalo and Levi set his chair on the ground). The metallic gleam inside each tree showed, as countless barrels of unseen guns were pointed at the group. Even at the unarmed Clara.

Clara would have a chance, if she at least had a knife or a dagger. Or something!

But she doesn't.

"Crap!" was the singular thought in Clara's head before hitting the floor as bullets, knives, a sword, creepy illusions, lightning and fire was ablaze above her feeble form on the ground. The combination of powerful attacks lit the air on a multi-colored fire; the last of the explosions wisped everything away.

As soon as it began, it was over. Clara lifted her head, blinking at the damage; every normal tree for as much as Clara guesses, a mile or so, was splintered and or torn in half. The entire mountain side was scorched and heavily scarred. The metal inside the robot-trees was molten red color and dripping the liquefied stainless steel on the ground, setting the lower vegetation on fire and leaving burn marks on the bare parts of the land. The ground was littered with deformed bullets, and more burn marks.

"Way to be discrete, Boss. No one will be mad for burning down a good chunk of their satanic mountain that must be really expensive." Clara drily thinks to herself.

Clara stands back up and brushes off the dirt on her jeans.

"Geez, that was unexpected, ne?" Lussuria cooed as he set a hand on his hip.

"WHAT THE FUCK XANXUS? WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL US ABOUT THIS?" Squalo yelled at his Boss.

CRASH

"WHERE ARE YOU GETTING ALL THESE FUCKING BOTTLES FROM?" Squalo shouted in an even higher volume, which both irritated and secretly amazed Clara. That man should have busted his voice-box after he was born! Squalo just has to be the answer to throat cancer and all throat illnesses!

"I just ran out. Go get me some more so I can throw it at you, fucking scum." Xanxus casually blamed Squalo, who only fumed like a shark-volcano.

"WHY THE FUCK WOULD I DO THAT FOR, YOU DAMN, SHITTY BOSS?" Squalo was waving his sword as his boss and Xanxus looked like he'd rather talk to a cheap beer bottle than to his subordinate. (And Clara has heard rumors that they were friends too…)

Clara stared at the fight with an expression that read, 'are you serious?' with all the cynical French sarcasm, and dryness clearly visible.

"I DON'T CARE IF YOU DON'T FEEL LIKE GETTING UP! I'M NOT DOING YOUR CHORES, ESPECIALLY WHEN CIVILIZATION IS AT LEAST A MILE AWAY! GO GET YOUR SHITTY MAID TO GET YOUR BOOS, YOU DAMN LAZY BASTARD!" Squalo hollered at his boss, who seemed to not care about his Subordinate's opinion, one way or another, and was now ignoring him. And this took a lot of skill; considering that you're trying to tune out Squalo's voice of all voices.

Clara, however, didn't believe that Xanxus was ignoring Squalo. The proof is in the pudding. Or rather, the truth is the five-foot flame dancing in Xanxus's hand. Squalo said some Italian profanities and began to charge at his boss, who was completely prepared.

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Bel only snickered at his boss and commander's argument… that he caused. It was actually his job to tell the Maid about the plan, since they're the same age or something like that- whatever, Lussuria suggested it. But Bel decided not telling Clara would be more fun, and so got everyone considerably riled up and drunk yesterday so they'd forget about the Prince's little job. And secretly tampering with the boss's alcohol stash and framing a useless Varia-underdog for it- even more fun~ Ah, it's good to be Prince!

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Clara's eyebrow twitched in annoyance, witnessing Prince Bel's insanely creepy laughter, and even creepier aura-flare that came out of nowhere. Seriously, he just started to laugh for no reason! That is not normal! Ugh, her 'co-workers' are the weirdest people on the planet.

But, hey- it could be worse. (Probably not.)

Clara, distracted by Bel's creepy laughter, was now able to block Squalo's voice and the sound of Xanxus burning things, and was now spacing out- 'Geez, I need a hobby, or better yet, a job that's not this one. Working for these people will definitely result in utter solitude in the face of normal people. Or death. That won't be good. Maybe I should just stay here in Japan, then maybe I won't have to deal with those psycho 'Vampires' and-'

"-ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING, YOU RETARDED MAID! YOU'RE SO FUCKING USELESS! IT'S BECAUSE YOU'RE FRENCH, ISN'T IT!" was the lovely words that came out of Squalo's mouth.

"Oh. Xanxus let Squalo off with only burns on his Varia uniform." Was Clara's first though when she saw Squalo towering above her, and yet only seeing his dirtied uniform that CLARA is going to be forced to clean later. And he seemed to be extremely angry, since he was breathing heavy in either anger or exhaustion, or both.

"HEY! THAT WAS RACIST!" was Clara's second thought.

"Qu'est-ce que tu viens de dire, l'oignon stupide?" (Translation: What did you just say, stupid onion? The French use vegetable names in place of curse words. The French, despite what we think, almost never actually curse! FRENCH FACTS!) Clara was tempted to say to the Shark-man, before forging innocence and politeness. "Squalo-san," Clara reminded herself that she was in Japan, and spoke kindly, "Could you repeat what you said?" despite Clara's effort, she still sounded annoyed.

"Tch, stupid maid!" Clara's eyebrow twitched at the insult, and her hand clenched as she imagined Squalo's neck in her grasp, "I told you to go get some decent food, and some boos for the damn shitty boss! I'll give you the address of our hotel when we get out of this fucking forest." The shark's voice was edged with clear annoyance. "Oh, and try not to fuck up or I'll cut you into bitch-sashimi." He added, while his body twisted back, right when the bushes exploded with metal spikes that showered down in every direction.

In response, Squalo unsheathed his sword and deflected the spikes and began to destroy more of the forest. The rest of the Varia and the boss did the same.

The Maid yelped something frantic in French, before ducking and dodging everything that came towards her, all the way out of the forest. Clara never felt quite so thankful for her abusive job. And even her abusive boss.

Almost as to prove Clara's point, the Varia brought destruction everywhere they walked.

As they all finally made it out of the forest without injury, and Squalo slapped handed Clara a wad of bills big enough to temp the poorly paid maid to steal. But, smart people just don't steal money from Assassination squads.

Clara can only pretend it's hers, and that she's buying ingredients and part items for her friends. But she just can't get into that scenario, looking at homicidal grins, frantic sword-waving and the demon-like gaze of her boss. (And Clara knows what a demon looks like.)

Before departing with the 'eccentric' group, Clara stared back at the forest her and the Varia just 'walked' through.

Clara hopes that the owner of the satanic mountain doesn't return to check up on it while the Varia is still in Japan. How bad is the damage exactly?

Well, let's just say, Clara better not be paying for the damages.

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A man stood from afar, watching the little fiasco with the strange group of men- probably mafia- and an out-of-place female came out of the shocking dangerous forest. Who ever knew such innocent looking vegetation could do so much damage? How amusing! The man happened to walk by just in time to catch the entire fiasco- a totalcoincidence, but luckily so, on his part.

With his bloody red eyes with animalistic golden-yellow irises watched the group. His pupil shrunk considerably in the slight sunlight, like a cat, from his hiding spot from the strange group.

He observed their reactions to the violent mountain, and guessed that they might be the famous Varia assassination squad that works for the Vongola crime family.

He should know. He hunted down and killed Mafia members for fun in the 1930's.

However, there's something he didn't know;

The suited man was a mildly surprised by the locals' reactions; nothing, as if they're used to explosions, fire, knives and violence in general.

"How odd," the man spoke in rough, British accented English, a daunting and an animalistic cruelty made up the man's voice and tone, "These people must be livin' in da same city dat Mafia family lives… the one that the other immortals were talkin' 'bout." The man mused, spreading his lips apart to let abnormal pointed teeth shine with sadistic intentions.

"This means that the Varia really are going against the Vongola," the man suppressed a laugh, "There's gonna be alotta blood!" the sadistic man let the laugh run through his body, his hand over his sharp mouth silence any more chuckles with no avail; the cruel sound echoes into the dark alleyway that he stood in. Then, a sudden gleam of realization came into play in the man's demon-eyes.

"Then, that means…"

The man stepped to the side a bit from the building he was hiding his body behind to catch a glimpse of the girl with the Varia. Black hair, yes; check … but what about her eyes? Her back was the man's raptor-like line of vision. The man 'tch'ed and waited for the girl to leave the group and walk past the building ha was hiding behind.

For that moment that she crossed his line of vision, at a moment the man was sure she least expected, she was made into a target. Like a helpless little lamb! Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!

The man released a low, dark and deadly chuckle that echoed from deep inside his black heart; "Ha-ha! Oh, Clara! It looks like I found you, huh! How long has it been now? Two years? Ah-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! But, ha-ha, this time- I'm going to make sure you're dead. I'll cut out your little traitor heart if it comes to it, ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!"

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The town's people were humble, and didn't rush to wherever they were going. This must be one of those, 'close-knit' kind of towns, Clara thought. However, every once in a while Clara will spot a teenager with black Elvis hair. The spiral-tube thing and everything! Clara did a double-take at first to make sure Japanese air made French people crazy.

Thankfully, the only thing crazy here in Japan was hair-styles in teens. (And wasn't Elvis only popular in America during the 50's or something?)

Oh well. Comme tu va, right? (Translation: As you will- is a very sarcastic French phrase and a personal favorite of Clara's.)

Regarding the second-in-command's order, who also neglected to tell her why she was in Japan- the Japanese drug store thankfully had tequila, and luckily Clara was able to buy a bottle over a hundred (if it's not over a hundred in Euros, Xanxus will not drink it). But she had a hard time convincing the store clerk that she was old enough to buy the drink. Now, that was offensive. Stupid Japanese people…

"Now, for the food…" Clara went on a street as she held the boos in her hand. Clara walked herself in a light-traffic street with fewer people around. She scanned the sides of the business buildings to find a decent meal.

Clara walked up to the front of the restaurant to find the small business to find that it has a pleasantly homey and casual sort of feel. Home-style cooking makes the best food. The Maid suspects that it must be family owned, from experience from working at similarly family-owned shops such as these. But this time, it's defiantly not as comforting.

The French Maid doesn't know a lot about Japan, or anything Japanese for that matter, and feels rather out of place with the decorations with odd paintings with even stranger writing on it.

It's so… foreign.

BUT- this is Clara's job… aside from the food part, she's never done that before. (Does the Varia even like fish in the first place?)

The Varia made her to do this- to go into town to get food and boos while they wait at a hotel, giving Clara free time for the first time in years. But, the rare treat is ruined by the fact that she's in Namimori, Japan. At least most European people have some French stuff, like in Germany, Belgium, Norway, or any other country besides Asian countries.

Sure Japan had pastries, but here in the Far-East, Clara found that the familiar looking treats don't share the same taste as in Nice or Paris.

It's like the Japanese don't know how to make chocolate or something.

But, that doesn't really matter. One, and only one mission out of Italy, and Clara would be damned if she didn't enjoy every second of it. But that's determination is too ruined by not knowing Japanese Kenji.

Walking around in a confused dazed, surrounded by odd symbols for a language, made the maid quite hungry and tired for the half an hour she's been here.

However, the French Maid has a feeling that the small business in front of her was a good restaurant. Her instincts told her so.

(Even though this is Clara's first time eating sushi- ever.)

Pushing those thoughts away, Clara inspected the inside of the small business. It was pleasantly clean and organized, like how a disciplined Manager and kitchen staff ought to have their restaurant. Clara also noticed that there weren't any costumers inside, yet again who eats sushi at six AM on a weekday? And why was the store open now when they are no costumers in the first place? (Not that she would even know, Clara you little smart-ass)

Meh, Comme tu va.

Ignoring the emptiness of the inside, Clara begins noting the types of decorations. Since there are few decorations, Clara has a feeling that men live here.

Clara, being the perfectionist food-inspector that she is, finished her analysis of the shop before deciding that the restaurant is good enough to eat in. A 'ding' sound rang out as Clara stepped into foreign territory of the sushi-shop.

Just as Clara got a whiff of an appetizing aroma of fish, a cheerful teenage boy came out from the back door that was covered halfway with hanging horizontal, thickly cut paper strips. Clara thought the paper strips part was odd, but yet again, French people call each other vegetable names as insults, and actually get very offended. Sometimes calling someone a Cabbage meant a full on fist fight in France. Even Clara, who was raised in France, thought that was damn weird.

"Yo!" the boy called out in a welcoming and carefree tone, speaking fluently casual Japanese. He rubbed his hands on a white cloth that hung on a chair's back before setting it aside on an empty table, and walked towards Clara. Before Clara opened her mouth, she felt very grateful for the Ninth making sure she knew Japanese, and not saying, "Je m'appelle Clara, comment vous-appelez vous?" or something just as horrifyingly generic.

"Hello. I'm not interrupting your break, am I?" Clara duly noted the casual appearance of the boy's clothing choice; baggy washed out T-shirt, loose/fit jeans and sneakers. The laid-back and sporty look supported the teen's contagious smile, and didn't even distract one's eyes from his built, lean, and broad-shouldered body.

Clara suddenly blanched; she is such a pedo! How old is this kid, 16? Shameful for someone like Clara. Shame! SHAME!

The boy didn't seem to notice Clara's dismay as he laughed cheerfully. It was nice and light.

"Nah, me and the old-man take this time of day to put away trash, first thing in the morning, so we can start the day clean," the boy gestured to a few empty boxes in the corner of the restaurant. Clara nodded. "I see"

"Hey, you got a funny accent. Are you foreign?" the boy suddenly asked with an innocent smile. Clara would have glared at the boy for being so bluntly rude, if she hasn't been asked the same question seven times already, and she was just too tired right now to be annoyed.

And besides… the boy seems like a good kid…

"Yeah, I'm from France." Clara answered. Inwardly Maid wondered when the boy, who stated that he worked here, was going to seat her at a table or not.

"Wow, France? That's cool! We've never had a French person in out shop before! Lots of Italians though." the boy laughs excitedly. Clara's eyebrow quirked at the last part, but decided to ignore it.

Clara noticed that the boy's eyes seemed to light up when he talked, and his rather contagious smile was starting to affect Clara as she smiled back- against her will, of course.

"I'm glad to be the first then." Clara grinned for the first time in two years. It felt good.

"Ha-ha, great! Alright, sit right down and I'll take your order when you're done looking over the menu," the boy announced, and rushed back to the back door where slight rustling was heard. "Oh, and sit wherever you want!" the boy added from inside the unseen interior of the room.

Clara nodded to herself before sitting down at a modest two-person table and opened up the menu. Clara instantly grimaced to find that the menu didn't even have pictures to help the French Maid, just a lot of Japanese words. "Hm, this can't be good…" Clara pondered as she tried to pick out any alphabet letters out of the menu of Asian foreignness with no luck. Mmm, just awesome

The teen returned back to the dining area to notice Clara's confused face, but didn't seem to notice her annoyed expression as he smiled at her, and said "You can't read the menu?" Clara answered the teenage boy with a glare that says, 'this is your fault, go buy a French menu. Aren't Asians supposed to be smart anyway?'

The boy didn't seem to notice the maid's glare, and walked over to her table and took to the other seat, opposite to her, smiling the entire way. Clara would have asked why he smiled so darn much if his smile wasn't as peasant as it is.

"I would recommend a Salmon roll. Costumers go crazy over my dad's Salmon sushi," the boy said, pushing back his hair slightly with one hand with an almost inaudible sigh.

Clara looked up from her confusing menu to look the boy in the eye, but almost gasped out-loud at what she saw.

Now that Clara's up close, she can see the dullness in the boy's eyes and the falter in his façade of happiness, and his aura even. Clara isn't one to be easily fooled, but far away the boy looked truly happy. He is trying hard to deceive people to portray happiness, and he did so under Clara's careful eye. This took Clara by surprise.

Now what to do…

"Should I say something, or is it some sort of personal problem? What if I'm one of those annoying adults if I ask him 'what's wrong' and try to console him? Ugh, stupid teenagers!" Clara's mind went hay-wire on how to deal with the boy's sadness. "He's trying to hide it, so maybe it's not right to bother him…? But what if he's suicidal or something, and I do nothing and he dies?" As much as she sees the thought as melodramatic, Clara doesn't know how spot-on she was.

"Might as well help, right?" Clara thought attentively.

"Hey, is something wrong?" Clara said reluctantly, offering a concerned look. The boy looked surprised as he stared at Clara in an awkward silence.

"Crap, I messed up! I suck at talking to teenagers!" Clara despaired inside of her head and her face twisted into a disgruntled one. "Um, I…" Clara feebly tried to redeem herself, but the boy cut her off. "… Yeah… I don't think I'm strong enough…"

Clara blinked back surprise and confusion at the response. "… Not strong enough for what?" Clara repeated cautiously, wanting to make sure if she's going to be giving that sort of advice- which should be handled by his parents. Or not wanting to make the boy feel any worse than he already did by sounding like she didn't understand his problem… which she didn't.

The boy opened his mouth to talk, but looked like he had to hold something back before answering, "Not strong enough to protect my friends."

"Not strong enough to protect my friends," are words painfully familiar to Clara. She couldn't do a thing when her sister, and best friend, Noel Laforet died. She knew who exactly who did but couldn't do a thing because the killer was intimidating, and could kill Clara if he really wanted to. Clara knows the feeling of helplessness to another person of helplessness inside of yourself well enough to feel pain looking into the boy's dulled caramel eyes.

Clara was weak because she was born small, and had a petite frame and didn't have the will to fight as hard as she should have for her best friend's life. Clara worked for years to get that kind of strength, though, the shadow of regret always seemed to haunt her in the back of her mind to remind her what she once was; weak, weak, weak.

The boy in front of her seemed strong, physically, with his broad shoulders and height. But moreover, he surpassed Clara in the most important sort of strength- mental strength; Clara couldn't even try to hide her sadness when Noel died. Clara cried for days, even in front of her daughter who was too young to even understand fully the meaning that her mother was dead. She should have cared and comforted her more, but she was wallowing in her own grief…

…And yet this boy who is years younger than Clara can smile in the face of a stranger- a stranger in nationality no less and even be kind enough to help her understand something without being asked to, out of kindness he buried inside of himself. To go through that kind of sadness, and still be able to smile… this boy is strong, Clara knew this for sure.

"If you're willing to give your pride away to a total stranger, you can fight for your friends and win." Clara stated with finality. Clara refuses to let this boy think that he is weak. He's so much stronger than Clara, and doesn't even realize it. C'est bête! (Bête is 'stupid' or 'annoying' in French)

The boy took on a serious expression on his face. The looks almost seemed unnatural on his soft yet firm features that adorn smiles easily, but yet the look of sternness stared back at Clara with a calm sort of flame-like attraction to them; you know you'd be burned if you hold it too close, but you can't keep your eyes away...

As soon as the solemn moment came, it passed as he turned his head to the side, chuckling lightly. Clara furrows her eyebrows and starts to get annoyed with the boy. Just what's so darn funny? "Did my words get messed up on the translation?" Clara asks in a forced patient tone, but the annoyance was there.

"No," the boy says, still chuckling and smiling, "You're totally right, it's just that… that…" the boy broke off into more admittedly charming laughter. "Just what?" Clara says in confusion. Teenagers these days… they're all on drugs or something!

"It's just that it's funny to have an eighteen year old girl knock some sense into me," the boy gets through dying off laughter.

An angry vein suddenly appears on Clara's forehead. "I'm twenty-two years old!" Clara seethes through a forced smile, menace clearly visible on the flustered girl's face. The boy looks surprised again, before laughing- again. "WHAT? WHAT'S SO FUNNY?" Clara yells at the teen boy and kicking violently at his shins from under the table.

"Ha-ha, ow! No I didn't mean to offend you miss, ow. It's just that I really thought you were around my age, ha-ha-ha-ha, ow!" the boy said while laughing as an angry Frenchwoman kicked him mercilessly. He's lucky she ain't wearing heels! "But you seemed to mature to be sixteen like me, so I thought you might be a few years older… you are!"

Clara gave up, seeing that the boy is seemingly undamaged after being kicked by a woman Clara's size… and partially to the mild compliment. She slid back into her seat up-right and gave an annoyed sigh as the boy's laughter died off. "Hey, what's your name?" he asked suddenly. Clara's was taken-back by the suddenly genuine smile that the boy gave her. It was brighter and even more charming when he really meant it. Clara almost felt star-struck under the blinding smile, before responding;

"du Vale, Clara" Clara stated, remembering that last names go first in Japan.

The boy smiled approvingly and opened his mouth, "I'm Yammamoto Takeshi! You can just call me Yammamoto, Clara-chan" despite that Yammamoto mistook Clara for a teenager, she smiled back and said, "Alright, Yammamoto."

Yammamoto smiled and slid out of the seat to stand up. "So, Salmon, right?" he asked with some kind of knowing look in his eye. A wide smile crept along Clara's European features, before replaying in a tone as sweet and light as the color of her Citrus Marmalade eyes "Sure thing."

Yammamoto brought Clara her sushi, and then she meets the chief herself. She found it both enduring and weird that a father and son can be so alike, but Clara couldn't find anything bad to say about how close they seemed, or how light-hearted their identical smiles were.

… But it was then when she realized that Yammamoto and Yammamoto senior are not the sharpest tools in the shed.

"So, how do you say, 'What do you like to eat and drink' in French?"

Random…

"Why would you need to know that?"

"In case we have more French costumers, of course!"

French people go to Tokyo, not… whatever town this is...

"Ha-ha, yeah not all French people speak Japanese like you, Clara-chan! … Right?"

No duh. I'm just weird. Just take a look at my bosses.

"… Que-ce tu aime manger et boire?"

"Wha-? Hey. Can you repeat that and say it slower, I can't understand a thing you're saying!"

Oh god.

Clara has had people ask her about France, but not like the Yammamotos'. They're that kind of happy-stupid, that's almost admirable. Well, not really, but it is sort of impressive. It's almost like their cheerfulness is actually bringing sparkles out of nowhere that cover their face when they laugh or smile… but that's not happening right now, right?

Sure enough, Yammamoto and Yamamoto Sr. laugh at a joke Clara didn't catch… and sparkles follow… And despite the up-right oddness and randomness of it, their laughter washes away gloom. The uncertainty Clara felt about being alone (at the moment) in a foreign country, washes away when she sees their genuine smiles.

They are something else, Clara thought, those two are something special.

"Hey are you going to try the sushi, Clara-chan?" Yammamoto sr. asked, pointing at his creation. Clara blinked in realization before picking up her chop sticks clumsily into her fingers. (FRENCH FACT! French people in France use a fork and knife for everything, even for burgers at McDonalds. When they see Americans use their hands to take a bite out of that Big Mac, they have a hilariously French look of shock and horror!) Yammamoto laughed at the sight and Clara's forehead twitched in annoyance. Clara tried to pick up a roll with 'FAIL' written over her head as Yammamoto continued to giggle.

"Stupid kid," Clara thought cynically. Clara fumbled some more with her chop sticks before she became fed-up. Clara brought down her chopsticks that were pressed together in her fist, down on the unsuspecting Sushi Roll viciously, like a dagger. A cold smirk reached her lips as she brought the sushi roll that was stuck on the two chopsticks to her mouth, and lapped it into her mouth with animosity as if she was licking blood off a knife. "TAKE THAT, STUPID KID!" Clara thought triumphantly.

Unfazed by Clara's overreaction, Yammamoto laughed again, "Ore, Ore, you take your eating seriously, don't you?" Clara fell out of her seat at the teenager's obviousness. "Yeah, you're a funny girl!" Yammamoto Sr. laughed along with his soon, the musical sound synced with his son's.

As heart-warming the scene Hallmark-ish was, Clara is annoyed because-

She is surrounded by idiots who must bath in obliviousness every morning

… Clara wishes she had a Dad as caring and loving as Yammamoto Sr.

Yammamoto Sr., who just like his son, thinks Clara is a teenage girl

Clara glowered at the third reason. CLARA. IS. NOT. THAT. SHORT! Argh! (Darn those French short-ness genes! FRENCH FACT! Average height in women in France is 5'1!)

Ignoring the stupid kid and his dad, Clara chewed on her food nonchalant, before her eyes widened and sparkled with amazement. A delicious over-flow of awesome fishy-flavored and oriental goodness came over senses of the French Maid. Clara looked down at her plate full of plain looking rolls, covered in seaweed before shoveling the delicacies in her mouth greedily, kind of like a rabid bear that over slept during hibernation.

But hey, don't judge Clara; this sushi freakin' delicious!

Yammamoto Sr. looked surprised at the girl's sudden denouement of his food, but he was pleased either way. He let a deep, hearty laugh. "Eat all you want! It's on the house!" the oldest one of the room cheered, "Now I really know how good I am! I'm able to impress a foreigner!" he declared proudly before disappearing behind kitchendoors at the back of the restaurant. His ever-cheerful on waved with a pleasant smile on his face.

Yammamoto then turned his head to the side to catch Clara's smile and clumsily shovel in another sushi into her mouth. Without feeling to, almost without realizing it, Yammamoto smiled at Clara. He really liked her; she could cheer him up in just a minute and she made good company. (Despite that she's, like, eight years older than him)

Even though she was much older than he was, Yammamoto felt like he could easily relate to this person without trying to. He felt he didn't have to think hard about he's going to say or do around her- it came naturally. There wasn't any pressure like he got at school to be who people wanted him to be, It's like as if he were with Tsuna and his other friends that he's so grateful to have.

He even liked the bizarre way she talked; putting more enthuses on the middle or ending syllables on words and her accent made it sound like she's saying everything softly and delicately. And also, her accent gave her a funny inability to say 'J's 'H's, and a really weird way she pronounced her 'R's- that sound doesn't even exist in the Japanese language! (No seriously go to Google translate and hear the way R is pronounced in French- it's so weird! It sounds like 'air'!)

"But she's another human on this world, suffering as much as every other person," Yammamoto perceived with uncharacteristic thoughtfulness.

"So, can I get about… nine extra-large boxes of sushi?" Clara's question came to Yammamoto unexpectedly. The Baseball-star gave Clara a brain-dead look.

Clara briefly wondered if the question broke the teen's brain with confusion, if not annoyance that was present on her usually passive face. "Great, maybe I should join the Varia! I'll be called the 'Brain-killer'" she thinks to herself sarcastically.

"… That's a lot of food." Yammamoto stated ingeniously.

"Yeah, assassination squads like to eat a lot! LIKE, A LOT OF FREAKIN' FOOD!" Clara's mind yelled at the boy. Thankfully, he couldn't sense auras.

Clara then realized that she didn't mention that she was buying this food for someone else; not just her! Gosh, Clara is looking like a fatty right now!

(A/N: To french people, being fat is worse than death. I know because I know one… it's kind of hilarious, especially when they're in the USA *smile*)

Before Clara could open her mouth to defend herself, Yammamoto spoke first.

"Oh, it's true then!" wha-? "French serving sizes are really tiny! You must be really, really hungry!" Yammamoto smiled in happy oblivion.

Clara had the sudden urge to slap the boy for inquiring that the French government starves its people. Just what kind of impression does the Japanese have of the French anyway?

"No, Yammamoto-kun," Clara forced her tone to be kind-ish, and began to struggle with the lie at the tip of her tongue, "I'm buying this for my f-f-f-family." Clara felt a chill run through her from calling the Varia, her family. No, no, no, the mental pictures! THE MENTAL PICTURES!

Yammamoto didn't seem to notice Clara's extra hesitation to the word 'family' as he had a thoughtful look, as he held his chin in an adorable matter- "As in childhood innocence!" Clara defended herself inside of her mind.

"That makes sense! Honestly, I didn't expect a tiny person like you eating that much, even though you're twenty-two years old. Ha-ha!" Yammamoto smiled, not noticing Clara's internal battle.

"Yeah…" Clara agreed with reluctance. "Well, I'll get started on your order and I'll be out of your hair," Yammamoto called out as he walked through the same door his father didn't a minute ago.

"Japanese people are so weird," Clara thought, finishing the last of her sushi with her shop-stick daggers, "But, they're really optimistic…" she thought out-loud, barely above an audible whisper, "how brave of them…"

X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X - X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X

After getting lost (with embarrassment) in the moderately small town and asking an Elvis impersonator for directions, Clara finally made it to the hotel! "I wonder if I've been out long enough for this fish in the rolls to spoil. Oh who cares! Those sick bastards deserve getting sick!" Clara thought to herself with inner valor. (Even though Clara knows darn well the Varia or the Boss will kick her ass if they hear her say that out loud.)

After a couple fleet of stairs and asking for directions twice- (OH GOD! THE HUMILIATION, IT BURrrrrrrNS!) Clara made it to the door of room 110.

KNOCK-KNOCK, Clara's sounds were normal.

CRASH! SWISH! BANG! , The Varia's was not.

Fran with multiple knives sticking out in random directions on his body appeared suddenly at the door that was stained with… mystery … juice… and was held open with Fran's arm with fewer knives in them. Fran motioned his head for Clara to come in as more knives embedded beside his head. This didn't even make Clara's eyelashes budge.

(Unfortunately, Clara's had more Varia than it takes an elder league person to die from.)

"Food" was the only word Clara got out before hungry assassins (minus Xanxus) attacked each other for the plastic bags, bringing their craziness into the hotel hallway. "Animals!" Clara muttered with disgust (and being a total hypocrite).

The Maid waltzed inside the Hotel suite and glanced around; in the middle of the room was the 'living room' that had a fifty-inch LED TV, a white marble bathroom in the back-ish left-hand corner caught her attention and a fancy hallway opening next to the bathroom meant bedrooms, and an unused kitchen was to the right.

"Hurry up trash, we wreck havoc in ten!" Xanxus called out from his spot in the middle of the room, his extravagant table with wine, steak and other delicacies adoring the shined dark-wood furniture. "Where does he get all this from? Is everyone in the hotel staff really afraid of him, or is Squalo the best second-in-command in history?" Clara thought while gaping at the classy setting.

"You. Maid!" Xanxus addressed rudely, ruining the aura of the elegant background, "Clean this damn mess before we come back or we'll have to go through the trouble of replacing you with other Trash."

"Thank you for the blows to my self esteem, boss. I really needed that to lift up my mood. And you did, thank you so much" Clara thought sarcastically before saying 'Yes sir' then grabbed a broom and started to sweep the dust/knives on the floor.

Not soon enough, the Varia and the Boss left. Not without managing to drop the red-velvet cake (Bel) on the ground or breaking those two vases (Squalo) - of course. (Clara didn't even know hotels served delicacies like red velvet cake… she kind of wanted some… damn prince…)

It was now two o'clock now, and the sun was beaming through the windows in the hotel suite that overlooked the small town. It reflected all the hard work Clara put in to make the hotel look like the Varia never checked in, though missing come pieces of furniture that was broken, and the pieces are far from fixable. When the Varia breaks something- they break it.

Finishing up the last of the chores, Clara put away the cleaning utensils and sighed tiredly.

The maid only felt a little tired; since her jet-lag wasn't too bad from the super Varia-jet they took here to Japan. In just a day or two, she would adjust to the time change.

But hard work got her small body, and that expensive couch's silk lining seemed to ease her tired mind. And when she lies into it, her eyes closed. And when she rests her head on a fluffy pillow, her breaths become deep and slow. Before Clara knew it, she was asleep on the couch, never thinking once about her problems.

X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X - X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X

A little girl, about the age of 7 or eight, judging by her appearance, was standing nervously at the Honolulu airport, alone. She faced a large window to stare at her plane that would be ready to part in fifteen minutes, her giant panda sweatshirt with panda ears adorning the hoodie and she wore jean Capri's and dark flats stood still in oppressed time as she stared at the flight that will change her life forever. A pink Hello-Kitty suitcase was gripped tightly in her small hands as she suppressed the urge to shake and cry. Business people walking around the enormous air port noticed the girl's apprehension, but did nothing to soothe the girl; they had a plane to catch, and the girl isn't theirs.

But, the little girl isn't scared- nervous; yes, defiantly. But she's beyond happy. No, that's not quite it. It isn't as simple as happiness or nervousness. The feeling more akin to meeting a person who saved your life, then crushed your hopes and dreams a little; dread, hope and wonder. It was something the young, immature girl could quite understand, but she knew meeting Clara again would be good.

"Tante Clara, we'll meet once again. Will you be happy, or sad? Would you be angry at me?" a longing to see Clara, and a fear of rejection edged into the girl's head.

She knows why Clara would be reluctant to see her;

Sorrowful memories of death, lies and hatred filled the little girl's mind when she thought about Clara, and also the single happiest moment of her young life, the reason she didn't end it all a year ago.

"You're the only one who loves me," the girl concluded on her own. It must be true, if her father doesn't talk to her, and her family has no sympathy or feeling for her.

But what if Clara changed, what if she doesn't care anymore? After all, this girl wasn't meant to be born- an unwanted accident. She shouldn't exist. But she's alive. … Would that be enough of a reason for Clara to hate her? It's only been another accident that she's coming here. She had no choice; the incident left her to die, or to live with her aunt Clara. But what would she think?

Not sure of herself, nor her decision, she eventually walks aboard the airplane, feeling numb and her senses dead to those and everything around her. She sits down in a daze and slowly lowers her back to touch the back of her seat with a corpse-like reluctance.

And through the nervous wreck of a body, the little girl falls asleep on cold, hard emotions.

X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X - X - X – X – X – X – X – X - X

Author's Notes-

The chaos is slowly coming, it really is!

And for dealing with my detail-OCD, I'll give you the name of another OC that'll come in later. I won't give gender, weight, height or appearance, just the name~

Charybdis

Yupp, that's all you get until the plot thickens.

Questions, comments and suggestions will be read and responded to… if you REVIEW!