Katekyo Hitman Reborn
My Fate is Certainly Uncertain
Chapter 4: Everyday, I wake up, not knowing if I'll sleep tonight.
Overall Warnings: Violence, swearing, blood and Oc-ness.
[Written to: Ponponpon- Nightcore]
~o0o~
When I woke, I knew I was in trouble. Not the normal kind like 'Oh shit, I'm in trouble so I'll just hide away for a few hours or months until things settle down' type of trouble. I was in the 'Oh shit, I'm tied up and dangling in a dark and fucking scary place in the middle of God knows where' type of trouble.
But things wouldn't make sense here.
I'll step back for a while, since I have time to kill, back to when I was still back on Mafia Island.
~o0o~
I probably spent more time on the island working than I did trying to find information. It was a mafia island, after all so I had decided that it wouldn't be the best thing for me to dive head first into this new scenery, not knowing my way around and all. Apparently, at the time I had arrived, it had just flourished into tourist season for the island. Numbers of staff were short, and to make extra money, I decided upon a job.
But the only one I could afford to get was one where I was working as a maid in the main hotel on the island. It was a good choice in my head, because they provided board and food costs, including uniforms, cleaning materials etc. The pay was alright, but it was the best I could do under this pressure, Even though I had realized it was the start of a jam-packed tourist season, I forgot how much work it was to change a bed, clean a bathroom, to smile like I was actually in a happy mood at the paying customers. Most of the time, my cheeks were sore at the end of the day.
During the day, Al usually helped me out by going out and venturing on his own, sniffing up and kind of info his eyes could gobble down. And I had learned some lessons as well.
Like don't leave your bag unattended. (Note, that I did get it back and kicked the guys ass, much to the amusement of a crying kid who's ice-cream had dropped off his cone. Suffice to say, I was alright with that, since dropping an ice-cream was a pretty big deal.)
Carry a first aid kit. (As if I don't already, but it helped me when the other maids hurt themselves. I could whip it out and patch them up so quickly that they nicknamed me Nancy Drew!)
Stuff a ten-dollar note in your sneaker.
And, as a rule for myself, to make sure that I don't ever lose them, I keep the papers that I found in my mother's study underneath the floorboards of my current room, underneath the makeshift bed. They had provided me with some good info that I had needed.
Firstly, it was basic knowledge that I knew my mother lived in Italy before she had immigrated to America. She must have been quite young and I don't know if she was pregnant with me at the time, but I knew that it had been a rushed process. In her car that I had 'borrowed' (I guess you couldn't call it stealing if she was already dead. It would have gone to me anyway. She knew I liked it also.) in the glove-compartment, there were several passports used, along with papers in the back of years old plane tickets and dockets. It made me shook my head in sadness that she kept them, why wouldn't she have burned them instead?
Again and again, in my free time when I wasn't washing bed-sheets, I grazed through the bits of paper and laid out what was left of the pictures. Some were poorly damaged with burn marks around the sides, pen written, scribbled across them, X's on the faces of the silhouettes of people.
It didn't take a rocket scientist to know what my mother did for a job. But it wasn't right then that I figured it out. I had that pinned down ages ago, when mother came home late at night and plonked herself on the couch, dead tired.
Mind you, it wasn't her that was wiping bits of blood and brain residue off of her leather jacket.
I liked looking at them when I was supposed to be sleeping. There was one of my mother, who looked around seventeen, taking a selfie while at the beach, the sun shining brightly behind her, her golden hair flying in the wind. And there was another one of a woman with sitting in a cafe, drinking a cup of what was probably coffee. I had no idea who she was, but I liked the hat she wore and the vacant expression on her face as she checked her phone, presumably scrolling through her endless messages. My favorite was another one of my mother, who was dressed in a lilac sundress, and a smile planted on her face, her head cocked to the side. It was a smile that I had only ever seen on Sunday mornings, when she had just woken up, so that her hair was still untamed. She would gaze out the kitchen window idly, her eyes crinkled up at the edges. I liked it because the colour of the dress contrasted with the vivid orange that a man wore, a guy that was holding her by the waist. I cursed several times because of the decaying edge that erased the top half of this man. They looked like bite-marks that had attacked the edges, so I assumed that a caterpillar of some sort.
It was only two days after the third week I had stayed there that I had noticed the floating balloons of small figurines. It hit me then, the orange dress-shirt.
It wasn't till I asked the receptionist who that man was that my gut dropped, and a tingling feeling started in my toes
I knew it then that whoever that balloon was modeled off of had something to do with my mother.
And that wasn't the only surprise that had flailed itself at me while I stayed there.
"Where should we go now Al?" I asked on my day off. It was a nice sunshiny day, and I wore a simple t-shirt and black shorts. "There's not much we can do here."
He looked up with those big, beautiful eyes, and his tongue hanged out. "Why don't you go buy a shot of brandy?" He suggested. "Have a drink and think things over."
I snorted a laugh. "Brandy? No thanks, but I think I'll settle for a strawberry smoothie instead."
And that's what I did.
Nothing happened while I drank it, but it was rather when I turned to throw the plastic cup away that I spat out what little smoothie was in my mouth, gawking at the sight in the sea.
It was that bloody octopus again, taking another bath. How clean did it need to be if it swam in the sea all the time?
"Oh..."
The octopus caused the patrons that were lying on the beach to get up and scream their heads of, running for dear life. They scooped up their children and in a flurry of cries, the beach was cleared in a matter of minutes. I sighed, as the octopus spotted me and started to wave. "Oh, it's you~! Hello m'dear! We've been waiting for you~"
"Does it even occur to you that people might want to swim here?" I asked it, as I walked to the water's edge. "Why didn't you just go to an uninhibited part of the island?"
"KORA!"
I flicked my head to the left, looking over my shoulder, to where that very loud voice had been. I swore, seeing that a child was being carried by a large gull, with a long , green rifle in his hands.
No fair, that looks awesome!
"Better get out of the way love."
Bang!
I swore and ran to the side as the blond-haired kid shot at the octopus, who screeched loudly. I swore again as the purple clothed kid appeared in front of me again. "You littl-, oi! What the heck's going on?!"
"Get out of the way kid!" He yelled.
"No!"
Bang!
With amazing strength, he pushed me away as another shot fired in the place where we stood, making a huge crater.
Bang!
I flinched as the gun kept firing, bullets deflecting.
Bang!
"KORA, get back here!"
"Waaahh!"
Bang!
Unconsciously, my mind flinched back, and I saw that old gun in my own hands.
My mother naked on the floor.
Hearing Mason.
Oh god.
Bang!
"ENOUGH." I said, throwing my foot on the ground. "YOU SHOULDN'T FIGHT."
I felt the fire in my throat. It sweltered and immediately became dry, the mucus becoming thick and sparse, making me gulp. I saw flashes of blue and purple, but in a moment's time, they merged together, mixing, swirling into a think, glowing wall that separated the two. The colour mixed with a pale grey that lashed out at the two children, small, hollow like mouths sucking up those two colours, purple from Skull and Blue from the other baby.
"Phillipa!" Al yelled out in concern, dodging a flying mouth.
My head felt extremely hot, and when I wiped the sweat off and retracted my hand, I found it engulfed in the same grey flame. I almost screeched or even screamed, if it weren't for the fact that I couldn't feel any pain. It wasn't painful at all, but rather warm, tickling the palms of my hands, turning my cheeks red.
I ee'ped as I looked up. The two had stopped fighting, and the blond one was advancing towards me quickly. He grabbed the collar of my shirt.
"Oi, Kora! Who sent you!"
I closed my eyes and batted his hand away, stumbling till I fell back on my butt. "EEEEEPPP!"
"Answer me!"
I shook my head several times. "I-I..."
"Can it pipsqueak, I'm gonna kill you and you puny fucking falcon!"
"Leave her alone, dummy!" The helmet kid yelled, shaking a fist.
"Stay out of this maggot!" He snapped back. He pointed at me, eyebrows bunched together. "Speak up, maggot! What's a Marchelli like you alive?!"
"P-Pardon?"
"YOU HEARD ME!"
"MY NAME IS FUCKING PHILLIPA MARSH, NOT MARCHELLI!"
He pointed at the barrier. And just as it had magically appeared, it started to fade as the flame on my forehead disappeared, floating away. "You set up a fucking barrier of will that's grey." He pointed at it, just as it faded away. "So don't tell me 'I'm not a Marchelli.' What are you doing here?!"
I clapped my hands over my ears. "I-I don't know what you're t-talking about..." I looked at my feet. I flinched as he got more agitated. "I-I'm just her..." No, my mind said, or rather it was the voice of my mother, forcing my throat to close up. I could imagine her looking straight at me. in the eyes, jabbing a painted red nail in my chest. Don't go blabbing your mouth! That'll be the end of ya, and I don't want that! You lot are special to me, ya hear!
Damn, I'd already blurted out my own name!
I slapped my hand on my mouth and shook my head thoroughly. I don't know why, but these kids were freaking me out; my heart beat thumped so much.
"..."
"She's just a weirdo!" Skull yelled, trying to divert the blond child's deadly gaze. "She's a nobody!"
"Oh that is it!" Al yelled, lunging at the miniature stuntman, his claws and fangs out, ready to bite the shit out of him. "I'm going to fucking flambe this idiot and his stupid octopus chum as well!"
"Hey~!" The octopus said, hurt and slightly offended at his comment. "I am most certainly not stupid, you silly little land-walker!"
Unsteadily and unsure of the situation, I tried to smile, but it more or less turned out to be a sad frown. "C-Come on Al, don't do that..." I said, trying to calm down this awkward situation. "I'm sure skull and his octopus sparky here are pleasant. There's no need to-"
"Oi, my name's not sparky! It's Oodako!"
"KORA!"
"HOLY SHIT, DID YOU JUST COMPLIME-"
"...yell." I muttered, staring at my feet. I sighed, as a surprising silence fell over the group.
The blond-haired baby let go of my t-shirt, and gave me a once-over, and I felt self-conscious when I did, feeling a ominous feeling.
"Don't think that." I said quickly, getting up. "I-I swear I'm not a spy o-or anything rude like that! I-I ..."
He clicked his tongue and held out an open palm. "Colonnello, maggot."
"Eh?"
"'S my name, Kora! You said yours, so I'm saying mine."
"Oh..." I put my hands down.
He leaned in closer, and I could swear the air temperature dropped. "Now, tell me why you are really here, Kora."
~o0o~
Confused.
This is the word that could muster up, to describe this rather odd experience. Since this situation had gotten beyond weird very early on, (I can honestly say that it had started with Allemande because he has been the 'thorn-in-my-eye' for the past, almost two, years. And I still put up with him.), I had just stopped myself getting surprised anymore and took them as they came. A very hard job I tell you.
But while I was re-cooperating in my 'new' room that Colonnello had supplied me with, Skull explained to me about the Arcobaleno. (I was forced to quit my job as a maid and had to start training with Colonnello after I told him I was searching for this man named 'Reborn', the holder of the sun pacifier. It's an odd name, I will admit, but hey, I'm not in a position to judge people at the moment. Maybe one day when I'm married and watching my children frolic in a garden. Ha, that will never happen.)
They were adults before they became babies, I was told. They had a curse thrown upon them, like in the story of 'The Princess and The Frog.' Seven of the world's strongest, turned into infants by a little curse, forced to wear coloured pacifiers, unknown if they would ever get back to their original forms.
It made feel a pang of sadness. They must feel so helpless sometimes.
Then, when I was alone one night, around three weeks into the training, Al gave me a brief on the Mafia world, from the families that were at the tip-top of the mafia-totem-pole, to the flame types used. He said that there were seven basic ones, and I asked why mine was grey.
He then told me what my mother couldn't. That I had been born into a world of strife, where nobody was safe, ever. It was then that I realized the significance of that strange barrier that had appeared. It was a skill my family inherited, that they were famous for. From what I could gather from Colonnello's ramblings and Al's midnight speeches, they were a feared family. And they were killed for it too.
That night, I cried myself to sleep once again, quietly humming 'Happy Birthday' to myself.
~o0o~
I took a phrase that Colonnello had coughed at me indiscreetly while dropping a random piece of paper with his rough handwriting, running away, close to my heart and since it literally haunted my dreams each night, I left for Italy a further month later.
"Best to start where you started."
I arrived in Florence in the middle of lunch. For two weeks, I spent my time searching around for the address that was hastily scribbled on the piece of paper that Colonnello had dropped.
And when I did find it, Al said. "That's not right."
"What isn't?" I asked, dodging the masses of locals and tourists that were bustling to get to places where they needed to be.
"It says Vongola construction, but the Vongola are a very top Mafia family."
"Then it's probably a mask to wear, in that sense. Why would they do that?"
"Obviously to hide themselves from the public eye. Although I do have my doubts."
I nodded. "Vongola, huh..."
I blacked out before I even knew I had lost consciousness.
~o0o~
And here I am now, with thick metal handcuffs chained around my wrists, and me, dangling from one of those hooks that are used to hoist up heavy machinery. My feet throbbed and in this darkness that shrouded my eyes, I could see only the concrete ground beneath my dangling feet and that was it. The darkness was consuming and it almost made me claustrophobic.
I could feel the tang of iron in the back of my throat.
"Al?" I called out, my voice dim and croaky, like a frog.
No reply.
I swore and hung my head down, cringing as the handcuffs chapped against my wrists.
I was alone again.
Shit.
~o0o~
Honestly, I don't have much to say today after babysitting a non-screaming one and a half-year old that didn't even realize her parents had gone out to dinner. Consider me impressed.
Again, I apologize for the line breaks disappearing. I just *Moans* They're god-damn annoying!
Thank you to all the readers, followers, faves and general 'invisible readers'. *Points at YOU* YES! I KNOW YOU'RE THERE!
Replies:
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And now, off to bed I go~
-Verdigurl