DISCLAIMER: KHR belongs to its rightful owners, unfortunately that doesn't include me.

This happens around half a year (more or less) after the rescue.

Mire: 8 years old
Xanxus: 10 years old

Yup, they're that young even though they don't act like it.

CHAPTER 2: Encounter

"Shit, this is boring."

He and his mother had lived in this poverty-stricken Sicilian suburb for as long as he could remember. Every single day, try as he might to obliterate the monotony of his life – he had over fifty routes from home to school and back, he had dealt with the kids who pretended to be the lieges in their area, even thugs failed to spark the slightest hint of fear now – boredom reigned supreme. He walked home, steps lethargic and measured.

The only person who obviously cared for him, his mamma, will be working till the evening as always. Recently though, he felt that something was wrong with her. Of course, no one would catch him say it out loud, but somehow he just knew. Ever since she discovered about that fire ball. His fists clenched in displeasure, kicking invisible stones and clouds of dust as he strode. There's got to be something more in store for him. Somehow, he simply felt that. But instead of bringing relief, it simply fueled his vexation. How frustrating! His mother kept blabbering about a mafia boss who was supposedly his father.

Enough. He had enough of the charades. Sometimes it was easier to think that he had no such parent. Yeah, some alien went down and did his mother like a freak miracle. Che, maybe that would explain his red eyes too.

Fucking. Figures.

Then in one glance all his mental soliloquy vanished as he reached a secluded thug-infested backstreet. Or at least it used to be one. Blood. Blood everywhere. Blood stains on the pavement, blood oozing from broken human bodies, blood on the dress and weapon of a girl who stood in the middle of the chaos.

His heartbeat raced fast. This feeling… perhaps the prolonged tediousness caused him to forget. But this was different. Boredom was out of the question.

"Oi!" he called after the girl wielding a blade, only after she turned to face him that he realized the long bloodstained chain dangling from it. She looked at him, blinking as if recently awoken from sleep then wiped her bleeding lips with the back of her hand. Her work was done. "Who're you?" he asked.

The girl tilted her head and smiled in a way that did not reach her eyes. He could see that those orbs could match the peculiarity of his. They glinted as a ray of sun reached her face. "You're strong aren't you? I can tell."

He sneered. "Naturally!" He prepared to spark his flame. "Want a taste of it?" The girl sheathed her blade but took on what supposedly was a fighting stance. A smirk tugged on his lips and a nod on her part responded in turn.

Then in an instant they were exchanging blows. He grabbed the lengthy wave of hair that grew to her back and punched, a move blocked by arms crossed over her face. She spun around, chain swinging along precariously, and forced him to let go. A gasp escapes him almost immediately by a kneed blow on his guts. The boy recovered quickly though, "Not bad for a brat," he said, distracting her with a feint kick and settling with a forceful head butt. Her auburn strands slapped his face as she twirled, then returned attack. A split second hesitation did not miss his eye, a mistake he took advantage of. Why did fighting seem so natural to him, anyway? Target locked and his hand wielding a brilliant flame orb, he shot out a blast of energy so powerful it sent his opponent flying to the far end of the alley. Thrown back, but not burnt. But she was not to be beaten easily too. By a graceful somersault she landed on her feet, ready to strike back. However, the attack never arrived.

Clang. The tolling of the church bells resonated in her ears. Time's up.

It dawned on him that this was the first time in a long long while that he felt this way. He was thrilled to the bones. That, and also the fact that he needed more. "Admitting defeat?" he taunted, not quite contended.

"Shit…" she muttered, breathing slightly rugged. Alfredo would wash her mouth with soap if he heard her curse so ungracefully. Her opponent moved for another hit. Surely that made contact, but he saw no more of her.

Zilch.

It was as if her whole existence had been a joke and the only witnesses were the unconscious assholes bleeding on the hard concrete ground. The boy straightened, visibly disappointed at the brevity of their bout. This won't be the last, he repeated in his head. He shouted something, something she should take note. But the rustling of leaves and a wave of dirt answered back.

Well, screw that.

All excitement ebbed as suddenly as it came. One of her victims twitched, groaning pitifully. Xanxus scoffed and sent him back to darkness. He had no time for trash.

"F."

A vein popped in her temple. She couldn't fail, not when she did a fine-assed job on the targets. Not when-

"Covert ops, Mire," Alfredo said, laying his palms open and flinging his arms around in a serious fit of lecture mode, "are covert ops because you can't be seen, nor heard, sensed or much worse, owned. You got blasted off a wall, for Pete's sake!"

"I don't give a shizz about any Pete!" she complained. They walked along the alley at the opposite side of the rows of houses, the older guy frowning at the flop of his student and the student scowling because of the stingy rating. "No wonder you don't have a girlfriend," was all she could retort. He had a point anyway. This earned her another rant about her performance, with bits and pieces about her foul personality.

"Xanxus… My name's Xanxus and you better not forget that!" She stopped and looked around. Was the boy actually gonna chase her? It didn't seem so. Good thing the townspeople knew better than to poke their heads out and ask what was wrong. That deranged woman and his son weren't very popular in their area so to speak. Suffice to conclude, they wouldn't be surprised if the boy had wiped another thug's ass. The tutor made an annoyed "tch". Looking over at the girl, he saw her lips twitch in a wry smile. Xanxus. Ah, that name gave her guts a weird tingling feeling.

Speaking of weird…crap, he had flames. "Ah. Fredo!"

"Hn?"

She jogged over to catch up to him and tugged on his sleeve to gain support for a tiptoe, "That boy has the Flames of Rage." She set herself level on the ground again. "At least that's how it appeared to me…d'you think…you know…that heir business."

He nudged his shades up. Interesting. "I'll tell the Ninth. Keep an eye on the kid." The young man stuffed his hand in the bag slung over his shoulder and pulled out…a phone. Her eyes glittered like diamonds. Back then, pagers were the thing. "Maybe if you don't screw up this time I'll reconsider for a D. Just maybe."

Mirella stuck out her tongue at him. "Whatever, teach. Gimme that wonderful baby," she cooed, tossing over the blade in exchange for the device. It was just that marvelous in her eyes.

Xanxus reached their battered home in the worst of moods. "Why're you back so early?" His mother took none of his tone and gleefully welcomed him. Nevertheless, none of this had any effect whatsoever. Even an embrace and the following announcement, so happily and proudly declared served no purpose to famish his displeasure. "They didn't do anything funny, did they?" The last time someone tried to forcefully haggle with her didn't end up so well.

"Oh no, of course not. Your father will finally be meeting us, dear. And I'm sure, no mistake about it…you're his son. The Vongola Ninth's son. Your Flames definitely… He will come to get you. Finally. Finally…" followed by a few intelligible words that did not matter to him. He inwardly sighed in contempt. This better be the real thing. The charade had already been accomplished over ten times. If doing so would get them money they'd be drowning in dough now. As if he had any hope at all.

"Stop it already, Ma. He doesn't exist."

"Signora, thanks for the-" Out came the girl from their kitchen. The very same one he met in the streets. With his clothes on. And his favorite bread? Stuffed in her mouth like an idiot. He'd never mistake her for anyone else.

"See? This girl is a Vongola and she told me so. Isn't that right, miss?" She stood there, feeling the dough soften in her mouth. Damn, she never told the woman anything like that!

Xanxus stared. Okay, apparently she wasn't kidding. Now what? He face palmed before shaking his head in disbelief. "You've got to be fucking kidding me." His flames flared out of his hand. "Whatever. Let's finish this." His mother gasped. That won't do at all! "OI!"

"I know, right. But apparently this isn't the time." At that exact moment (and to her relief) the mobile device Alfredo gave her rang loud. She gobbled up the food and flipped the phone open. My, what a splendid creation! "About time, you know."

"Sorry, kid. Seems the Young Lion Advisor beat us to it. They're on their way."

"Fine. Do I stay here or what?"

"I suggest you scram."

He can't believe he was being ignored. The fire in his hands shone intensely, only to have his mother attempt to forcefully bring it down. "Stop it, Xanxus!"

"Let go, Ma. I've got it!" he said, still attempting to wring himself free.

"Got it. Bye." Click. "Thank you for the hospitality, madame. It seems the Don will be seeing you after all."

The mother clapped her hands in delight, releasing Xanxus almost too quickly. "Was that the Ninth? That was him…I'm sure of it. He'll be so happy to see our son…" Without waiting for an answer, she scampered off to find something decent for the two of them to wear.

Mirella was at loss. "Not really…" her answer trailed off. Not to be rude or anything but something has got to be loose in that woman's head. Now she was left alone in the living room with Xanxus, who turned on her and glared.

"So, what? Am I that geezer's son or is this another dud?"

The girl frowned. And raced past him straight to the open window.

Knocks rapped on the door.

He already had a bad feeling about this. "Ma!"

A/N: R&R! :)