Chapter 10 A Glorified Errand Girl - Takes a trip to the past
If white had a smell, it would be the smell of hospitals, she thought, bringing her gaze up to the ceiling to glare at it savagely. The unwanted guests had all taken their leave after she had feigned fatigue, thankfully.
Tsuna had been a stuttering mess and it wasn't doing her raging headache any favours. Nor was Nana's constant mother-henning. Her whole year level at one point had managed to fit themselves inside her ward, leaving behind mountains of gifts and fruit baskets in their wake. Tsuyoshi's bento had been the only welcome sight. She hadn't expected it but was all so grateful for.
Speaking of gratitude. The next time she saw Hibari Kyoya, she was going to make sure to wrench his limbs off one by one in the slowest, most painful fashion possible. The psychopath had decided it'd been a good idea to dump her in the nearest hospital and call it a day. The paperwork was a pain and a half, especially as she was still underage. Luckily Iemitsu's forged documentations came in handy and a quick phone call resolved the brunt of the hospital's suspicions. But that hadn't even been the main issue. Camilla could have healed her ankle in a good half hour with a healthy dose of sun flames, but now that she had been admitted to the hospital and had her right leg engulfed in a white cast, she was forced to hobble around for the next three months pretending to be crippled to avoid further doubt. Which came to the point at hand. The son of a bitch was going to get it.
As soon as she was discharged and back at Namimori Middle, she was flocked to by literally the whole school offering their assistance to carry her bag and help her up the stairs and whatnot. She declined them all coldly, asserting her tsundere aura which only served to attract even more attention, which she really wouldn't have minded if not for the untouchable façade she had spent so much time building up. Apparently a broken ankle equated to instant approachability. Suddenly everyone thought it was ok to act like close friends. When you show vulnerability to peasants, they develop atrocious beliefs that you're just like them. This was not how she expected to exact her ruling over the school.
"Senpai!" A body dropped down beside her. "What are you thinking about?"
She turned her head to face him slowly, blinking out of her musings. "Sushi boy! How pleasant it is to see you again."
He gave a laugh, hand going to the back of his head where it rested naturally. "You've only just seen me this morning for breakfast, Mira-senpai."
She focused back onto the book in front of her, watching him out of the corner of her eye. "Are you alright 'keshi?"
He jolted slightly, beaming at her. "Yeah, of course! Why do you ask?"
She pursed her lips, glancing at him briefly before turning back to her book. This wasn't jealousy, was it? Was he possibly getting jealous over Tsuyoshi spending more time worrying about her broken ankle than his own son? A smile threatened to split her face. "Nothing. Just if you need anything, senpai has quite a lot to offer." She slanted a smirk at him in which he returned with a nod and a smile.
They continued to sit in silence, Camilla reading her book on potato agriculture and Takeshi tossing a baseball from one hand to the next. "Say, you didn't actually break your ankle tripping over a rock did you, senpai?"
A lazy tilt of the lips answered his question.
"I wish I had been there to help you."
Camilla closed the cover of her reading material softly, throwing him a humorous look. "A stray asshole took care of me, so it's ok."
He quirked an eyebrow at that. "Why would he be considered that if he took care of you?"
"Listen carefully sushi boy. These are the words of Jesus, treat it like the bible. Assholes can come in all shapes and sizes. Assholism is a continuum, it's a spectrum ranging from those who have no redeeming qualities to those who can manage a good deed every half century. The asshole who helped me out was part of the latter. I suspect he has a soft spot for cute looking girls." She threw some hair over her shoulder. "Of course, if I were in his position, I'd help someone as attractive as myself also."
"Takeshi! The coach wants us now!"
The boy in question hesitated, seemingly apprehensive about leaving until Camilla gave him an encouraging nudge. "Shoo, go smack that white ball around. I know you enjoy that more than anything in the world, not that I'll ever understand why."
He nodded quickly, flashing a small grin before taking off in a slow jog. Camilla narrowed her eyes at his retreating back, tugging at the locks of her wig thoughtfully. Sushi boy whilst not talkative normally, would not usually be so quiet. There was something eating him up and part of her was convinced that it mightn't be the jealousy. For some reason she couldn't treat it with her normal indifference and she didn't know how to take that. It wasn't her problem but somewhere along the way, the little baseball legend had come to grow on her.
"Don't worry about it, Spawn. Just take care of yourself."
"Just because I have a burrito for a leg, doesn't mean I'm actually crippled. I'll get it done. Tell the old man to worry more about his growing pot belly."
There was an indignant shout from the background before Lal's unconfident answer came through. "If you're sure."
"I am. Now I'm going to have to go now. The idiots don't tend to themselves." She switched her phone completely off, tucking it inside the pocket of her skirt before securing a switch knife in her other pocket. It was merely for precaution, the job today should be no more than a little chat with some important people.
She arrived at the front of the stark building on crutches. The office building was completely deserted besides the dim light glowing on the tenth level from one of the windows. She hobbled over to one of the glass doors, pushing at it tentatively to find it ease open under the force. Swinging her crutches in first, she expertly manoeuvred around the door with the rest of her body. Walking over to the lifts warily, she eyed each corner of the building's interior, searching for the familiar blinking of a red light. The cameras had however been turned off entirely. Instead of complete silence, muted sounds permeated the darkness. It was uneasy to the ear. Her finger sank into the lift button, the metal doors hissing open immediately. She stepped in, punching a finger into each button for every floor up to number ten. The doors slid open obediently at each floor as she stuck a head out to check for abnormalities. A somewhat tedious ascent later and she was clacking rhythmically down the hall on her crutches to the light spilling from the last room of the hallway.
She used the end of her crutch to nudge the opening of the door wider, revealing a European style lounge, complete with heavy dark furniture and swirling smoke. A suited man was reclined on an armchair, gazing out the window with a cigar tucked between two fingers.
The lamplight reflected off his slicked back raven hair. Camilla relaxed into the leg lacking a cast, "Signore Agrella. I didn't expect to see you." She worded carefully in Italian.
He let out a slow puff of smoke. "Mademoiselle, you're far too valuable for me to not greet you in person. Please," he gestured to the seat opposite him. "Take a seat. Your leg most be aching terribly." At her stiff posture he smiled widely, revealing gold teeth that ran the length of the back of his mouth. "Don't be shy Mademoiselle, you're acting like Le Petit Chaperon Rouge and I'm the big, bad wolf."
She almost tensed. He knew. "While I do appreciate your hospitality, I'm quite fine standing where I am." A gun was cocked to the back of her head. A groan lodged in her throat as she recognised the situation.
"Take a seat, Miss." Hot breath hit her neck. She entered slowly, the gun guiding her to the leather couch. The voice was young, she acknowledged through the haziness. Too young.
"Now, now Alu." Agrella drawled lazily, emerald eyes flickering from the view outside briefly, to reprimand the boy. "Don't be so rude to our guest." The boy flinched, lowering his gaze.
"My apologies, Signore." The gun never left the crown of her head.
Agrella tilted his head to the left minutely, staring out the window again. He took another long drag. "I have some questions Mademoiselle and I'd really like them answered. You see, the Vongola are not very compromising when it comes to these things and it just causes me so much grief that despite our clear alliances, there are still these pesky secrets existing between us."
"I'm not sure I'd be of use." She punctuated the next words clearly, eyes never leaving his. "Alliances are fickle things, I'm sure you know better than I. 'Clear alliances' is not something we Vongola do very well."
His eyes glinted briefly like lightning had struck behind them before he reacted airily. "Oh yes. Of course! Of course." His thick fingers clasped together in front of him. "How could I be so presumptuous? The Vongola don't need anyone, but everyone needs the Vongola." He rapped the side of his head with a closed fist, "Silly me."
"Signore Agrella, if you'd like to get to the point of this…meeting."
He threw up a humourless chuckle. "Call it what it is Mademoiselle. Now-" he adopted a childish excitement, "-correct me if I'm wrong but isn't this what you lot call a… " he clicked his fingers together, "a rendezvous, non?"
Camilla narrowed her eyes. "The bush is tired of you beating around it, as am I."
He let out a piercing laugh. "Ah and she's got humour too. This is why I love my French girls." The thick vein in his neck bulged as his eyes hardened. "Where's the clé, Camille Weiss?"
She stiffened and immediately heard the grip on the revolver adjust in the lackey's hand. She shot the man an easy smile, "Is that why you had to bring a child with you today? The boy behind me is going to ensure your safety, is that right?" She rolled her shoulders back, relaxing into the couch. Outwardly, the suited man allowed all this leisurely, though his eyes were trained on her every movement, hawk-like. "And by the looks of it, a mist user too." It certainly explained her muted senses as she entered the building. The boy was not half bad with his abilities. "If you don't mind me asking, did I provide a good show yesterday? My life must be pretty interesting to warrant your unwavering attention, in the form of mist affinity paparazzi no less."
His teeth gleamed as he reached over to squish the butt of his cigar against her cast. Camilla shoved the fury down forcefully, pressing her lips into a withering smile. "Now don't try to change the subject, Mademoiselle." He alluded behind her with a nod of the head. "There's a gun against your head and I'm not the most patient of people. The clé, where is it?"
Pathetic imbecile. She refrained from clicking her tongue in irritation. "How do you know about that?"
"Oh, don't you worry. I know many things that you Vongola don't bother to tell me." His face pinched as he drawled out his next words. "Such a tight little famiglia you are, huh? Though I must admit, loyalty is a quality I admire."
Camilla began sending silent prayers to a non-existent god and promising herself the fifty consecutive eye rolls that she was denying herself now as soon as she was out of this situation. Mustering her patience she spat out, "You won't get away with this." A cliché but it had the desired effect of getting idiots to start monologuing.
"Oh? Who is going to stop me? Certainly not your CEDEF boss. He abandoned you here to safeguard the clé, no?" He grunted when Camilla made no response. Then waving his mammoth hand in her face forgivingly, he donned an easy smile. "Of course, I don't need to be stopped if you could just give me the information."
She sucked on her tongue lightly, rolling her next words around in her mind before chucking out a "Fuck you." A hand brought her face whipping to the left. She bit the inside of her cheek to quell the humour that was bubbling up her chest and threatening to exit her lips in peals of laughter. It was nonsensical amusement that she didn't understand herself but every time the slightest danger arose, the bemusement would no doubt find a way into her system.
"Look you little bitch. Le Fondement isn't going to be as nice as I am when they get their hands on you. So just give me what I need to know and we can both be on our way."
Despite keeping the shuddering to a minimum, Camilla found that she couldn't quite keep the tears at bay, as she was sure her eyes were glistening from the sheer effort of keeping the infectious giggles down. "You don't know what you're getting into," she managed through trembling lips.
"I won't need to as soon as I get the clé. Do you know how much power I'd amass by having that? You French people hoard your crap way too well." His finger slid under her chin, bringing her watering eyes to his. "C'mon hun, give me the location and I promise we can go back to how it was."
A smile stretched across her face. Only vulnerable people offered a way out. In one swift movement, the gun's barrel had been clenched into scrap metal in a roar of golden flames. Her other hand sank into the traitor's face. He proved to be little resistance, sailing through the air and crashing into the bookshelf at the far end of the room. The room suddenly chilled, a massive grove spurting from the ground in an instant. She rolled her eyes, cracking her neck. A burst of sun flames shattered the illusion easily enough as she darted down the hall to chase after the escaping boy. Extricating the switch knife from her pocket, she charged it with flames before taking aim, lobbing it straight through his throat. The boy dropped to the ground, choking on blood.
She strode to him slowly, boots thudding against the carpet, imitating the sound of a beating heart. The fear he exuded choked the air around him. His last words gurgled past his lips in thick spurts of liquid. "Help me." There was a small pause in her step as the whisper caressed the shell of her ear. Crouching beside him, she brushed his fringe away from his face gently, closing his eyes that had lost their light.
She pressed her palm to his cheek, "You shouldn't have been here."
Returning to the lounge, Camilla picked up her crutches from where they leant against the entry, slowly making her way over to Agrella. The man was huddling to one corner, trying to pull away from her looming presence. "S-stop, I promise not to do that again. P-please."
She offered him a chilling smile before shrugging. "I warned you," she sang delightedly, "Didn't I? I told you that you wouldn't get away with this." Digging the end of a crutch into his stomach, she frowned. It sank into his middle much easier than she thought, like poking a finger into loose sand. "Signore Agrella, why didn't you listen?" Why did you bring that boy with you?
He groaned. "I-I'm sorry, I'll d-drop it. I won't ever look for the clé again. Never again!"
Her weight leant itself into the crutch digging into his stomach even more, drawing muffled screams from below. "You wouldn't be able to find it even if it were decked out in a neon tutu sitting on your face." She paused before breathing quietly, "You don't even know what it is."
His eyes widened as he shook his head profusely as if not understanding the language she was speaking. He was a sick man who thought himself swimming in luxury but was really drowning in his own blood. "No, n-no." His pants became increasingly erratic.
"Its true name is Chiave and it originated from the Italian mafia long before it ended up in Le Fondement's hands." She lent down closer to him, watching the perspiration drip down his forehead and mix with his tears. "Even a deer knows not to approach a lion. You shouldn't have gotten involved with them." She flashed him a sardonic grin. "But since you have, I'll do you a favour." She slammed a foot against the side of his head, snapping his neck simultaneously. His small gasp evaporated into the air. "Curse Le Fondement in the afterlife. The both of you."
She walked out of the building, dragging her feet behind the crutches numbly. Bringing her phone to her ear, she long pressed one before passing out.
A/N Shit's getting real. Hype it up with me!