D-San: Okay, here's the next chapter in the prologue. This is Hanataro "Hana-Pi" Gokudera's prologue chapter. I want to tell you readers that this chapter will be a bit different in terms of style. It's not solely in first person. When it's in Hanataro's POV, I'll use "I am...", "I was...", etc. When the focus is on Hana-Pi, I'll use "She was...", "She took...", etc. This is just to avoid any confusion for this chapter. So, where are we in our schedule again?

Sunday - Vivian Iman (!)

Monday - Gokudera "Hana-Pi" Hanataro

Tuesday - Song Hayase and Yukijima Hinata

Wednesday - Mikolovich "Knowledge"

Thursday - Edgar Karin

Friday - Yuuko Momiji

So that's where we are. That's good! We're making good progress. Now, a big thank you to Princess Arcs de Cielo and Dive to the Sky for reviewing. And to answer your question, Princess Arcs de Cielo, it's kind of a next gen fic in of that there's going to be a Vongola XI famiglia formed, but there aren't many children from the actual Vongola X family...or are there? That just adds to the mystery.

Summary:

"Gokudera...I think it's about time that I call a special meeting." The Vongola passes its traditions down from generation to generation. Its spirit is eternal; a long-lasting force in the mafia world. Seven children are gathered from all corners of the earth, despite what they used to be or what they endured...now, they are Vongola. "I will prepare them for the hardships ahead."

Pairings:

It will mainly be OC x OC, but there's hints of OC x 54 and OC x Lam. There's also 2795 and a tiny bit of 1869. You'd have to squint.

Disclaimer:

D-San does not own Katekyo Hitman Reborn! It belongs to Akira Amano and TV Tokyo.

"migi kata ni murasaki chōcho/kiss o shita kono heya no sumi de...*"

"This is my favorite song. Do you like songs like this?"

Painted red lips curled around the end of a cigarette. Thick painted lashes brushed up against groomed brows, and full blonde curls spilled over petite shoulders. The cigarette wasn't lit, and the honey brown eyes that glazed over the crowd were dull. The young slender girl was bored; empty. She wasn't paying attention to the man whose arm she was currently hanging off of. The man didn't seem to mind, so she wouldn't mind. He didn't care, so she didn't care. The man offered her a light. She took it. Large hands snaked around her waist, and a scowl blemished her doll-like face. She agreed to sit with these men, and sometimes they just got way too touchy-feely for her tastes.

"Hana-Pi, you're so beautiful tonight."

"You've said that a thousand times, you drunken idiot."

The same large hands started to snake up her shirt, and "Hana-Pi" decided to stop this right away. She wriggled out of the man's grasp, and stomped towards the bar. She combed through her curls with her slender fingers, and waited for some other down-on-his-luck chump to come meet her. This club wasn't like the others. It wasn't filled with pulsing lights, deafening music, or sweaty bodies that smelled like bad sex and regret. No, rather, this club was sophisticated. The downtrodden calmly drank themselves into an inebriated bliss and promptly stumbled out once they reached their peak. The men were moderately handsome, and came into the club with suits, loose ties, and hungry eyes. Hungry for booze, hungry for women, hungry for money. These weren't normal appetites, however. They wanted the best booze, the best women, and the largest amounts of money. These were the overachievers that couldn't overachieve. And "Hana-Pi" was the biggest disappointment that they could ever endure lest they figure out that she...

"Hanataro, do you need some more apple juice? You usually end up needing more, in the end."

"I told you not to call me that while I'm here, Aoba! I won't forgive you next time."

"You'd never forgive me anyway, in the end."

"That's the most fucking annoying thing I've ever heard."

Aoba Koyo tucked some of his green hair behind his ear, and I ruffled my hair so that my curls would get messed up. Hana-Pi was gone for now, and only I, Gokudera Hanataro, was left in her place. The sultry young femme fatale had taken an exit, stage left, and thrust me into the spotlight. Without Hana, I'm just a twelve-year-old boy with long hair, a girl face, and no muscle definition. Kind of sad, once you took into account the fact that I came here, flirted with men, and then went home with Aoba. In what way? Why, readers, you wouldn't have the gratifying experience of watching me develop if you knew now. You'd also have some common preconceptions about our dear Aoba dashed to pieces like a piece of fine china in the hands of a wrathful company executive, so you'll have to wait.

"So, is that the only guy you're going to be with tonight?" Aoba and I stared at each other, and I just passively shrugged. My curls had fallen a bit, and now my hair was down to my lower back. "Hanat—I mean..."

"You already said Hanataro; might as well stay consistent." I waved my hand from side to side flippantly; I wasn't worried about it anymore.

"When can we get home? This place is depressing in the end, despite you liking it here."

I looked out at the empty stage that was against the wall. A microphone was sitting on its stand, the dim stage lights bouncing off of it. I wanted to get up there and sing. Hana-Pi would have already. You know what; this place did blow. It blew so much you'd think it was a hooker. I hopped behind the counter, grabbed Aoba's arm, and hugged it against my chest. Aoba's usually pale cheeks lit up Christmas light red, and he received a few encouraging calls from scattered points in the club. He and I left through the back door, leaving the various bottles of booze unattended.

The question now was whose house I should go to. Should I go to my father's house, where he's probably waiting to smack the shit out of me? Or should I go to Aoba's house, where he'll give me apple juice and let me watch television? Oh, maybe Enma and Adelheid will be over, and Adelheid will let me try on her clothes. Of course, she wears a larger size because of her huge bazonga tits, but I like wearing her clothes anyway. Oh, and Shitt P. was just a blast to talk to. She liked the weirdest shit, and I loved her for it. But my favorite is Aoba. As soon as I reach legal age, his ass is mine. So, with fantasies about my love nest with Aoba in six years, I decided that I would crash at his house.

And crash I did! Nobody was there tonight, so I decided to toss away the good girl in me while I grabbed a pint of Guinness . Oh, hell yeah! I was getting risky tonight. As Aoba took a shower, I turned on the television, started to watch a horrible sitcom, and slumped over the back of the couch. Sitting was for chumps. I turned the volume of the television down and listened to the shower running. As I drank the dark draft from its vessel, I let my forehead rest against the material of the couch. I listened to the hot water beat against the white marble tiles that made up the walls of Aoba's shower stall. I tried to stop thinking about his muscles; how they would be glazed over with the scalding water and how Aoba's hair would stick to his forehead and his cheeks and his neck when he was done. I felt my erection pressing at the tight fabric of the pleather skirt that I was wearing, and I knew that I had to calm down. I wouldn't want Aoba to see me like this. I took a swig of Guinness. I fantasized. My self-loathing grew. I wanted Hana-Pi. Swig, fantasize, self-loathing, seclusion in the form of Hana-Pi. I repeated this until I heard the bathroom door open. By then, I had thrown myself into such a funk that my erection had turned into a hose that had a hole in it and just wouldn't get filled with water anymore.

"Hanataro, do you need some clothes? What you're wearing now is—did you get a bottle of my Guinness; really?"

"Are you going to fuck me or not?"

Hana-Pi's forehead rested on the fabric of the couch as she clenched the glass in her smooth palm. Aoba shook his head, rejecting Hana-Pi. He didn't much care for her; Hanataro was his companion of choice if he ever had one. And usually, he's not very kind to males. Hana-Pi lifted her head, and glared at Aoba. She sipped at her Guinness, and stood akimbo. Those same honey brown eyes that had belonged to the eccentric yet loveable Hanataro had been replaced with Hana-Pi's siren gaze. There was nothing siren about it now; she was simply glaring.

"You fucking ball-less creep. You bring me to your house and leave all this booze lying around and then you don't want to fuck. D'you know how many guys would love to have me in their house right now?" Aoba poured himself a pint of Guinness and sat on the couch, ignoring Hana-Pi's draft-induced rant. Hanataro would return soon enough, and when he did, Aoba would gladly drive him home. "...I just love you, Aoba-kun. Why can't you see that?"

"Hana-Pi doesn't love, in the end. Don't you just replace someone else?" There was a silence. "Someone else who deserves love, too, in the end?"

"Shut up and take me home."

I groaned, and felt a splitting headache coming on. Aoba cupped my face in his right hand, took one look at my eyes, and then smirked. He tossed his coat over me, and together we walked out to his car. Aoba placed me into the passenger's seat, and then he climbed into the driver's seat. Before we took off, he asked me—and I get butterflies whenever I remember:

"Are you sure you don't want to stay? Your father is going to be angry either way, in the end."

I wanted to go home. Yet I wanted to stay with Aoba. I wanted to take Aoba home to meet my dad. I wanted to be in a pretty wedding dress, and him in a pretty wedding dress, and he carried me to our condo in the Bahamas.

I started laughing out loud, startling Aoba. Imagining him in a wedding dress was just too rich for words.

(*) - Footnote Time

* English Translation to that is "a (purple) butterfly on your right shoulder/we kissed in the corner of the room". Some translations have the word "purple" in there, so I put it in just to be as accurate as possible. Guess what song that's from and then tell me it doesn't speak volumes about Hanataro's character.

D-San: Aoba's probably so OOC it hurts. In that vein, I apologize if any characters are OOC. However, I believe that when the characters are set in the future, they should mature accordingly. That doesn't mean I'm changing the characters' personalities at all; just writing them so that they're a bit more mature.

Remember, I like feedback. I really like this idea, and I want to be as good as it possibly can be. So, reviews are appreciated.