In which Oregano is a Much Better Cloud than Ottabio (the sleaze), is girl-friends with Lussuria, and Basil is a protective little brat. Then comes the playdate from hell (for other people).

As I was too young to be allowed to travel unchaperoned to visit the assassins' bedlam, Oregano brought me to the Varia headquarters via bus, because she was sensible like that and didn't want to waste a car on the Varia's traps. The door was opened by a very sleazy looking man. I felt rather naked, given that I didn't have my binder with me--my arms were occupied with holding a giant basket of wine, with a few additional bottles of brandy, cognac, and whisky.

"Oregano." The man sneered, "Not only are you chasing after men's heels, you are taking care of their brats too. Still a failure, aren't you?"

Oregano looked down her nose at him. "Ottabio." She greeted in the same tone, "Stop being a nuisance and do something useful for a change. Even you should be able to accomplish a task as simple as letting us in, so step aside."

Ottabio shook out his sleeve, but quick as a flash, Oregano slammed his nose onto her knee and left him in a heap outside the door. "You haven't changed at all." She pronounced contemptuously, "I don't know why I bothered asking nicely. Come, Basil."

I followed her into the building, which, though brightly lit, resounded with more screams than your average haunted house.

"That was Ottabio," Oregano stated, " He's only Cloud Officer because everyone else who's Quality refused, including me. Nasty little man's still sore that he was only considered after I rejected the offer, and has been trying to get one over me ever since. Don't you dare grow up like him, Basil sweet. Ah, Lussuria!"

My senpai/sensei smiled brightly at the mohawked man bustling towards us. I was fine with everything but the color scheme. Red and green was a striking combination that hurt my eyes.

"Oregano!" The man cried, and they kissed each other's cheeks, "How's work? Is Iemitsu treating you well? You can kill Ottabio anytime! Xanxus is our Boss now, and he's so deliciously angry--very much unlike Tyr--if you had problems with our previous Boss, why not try again now? Offer's still open dear!"

I leapt in front of Oregano, bared my teeth and hissed, "Begone, thou thieving cur!"

It garnered me the desired reaction--Lussuria cooed in delight at the viciousness I displayed, just like a Kiri-nin. He pinched my cheeks and brought us upstairs.

"Squ-chan!" He called through the door, "Oregano and Basil are here to meet Bel! Tyr's old desk can wait, we have guests!"

Lussuria beckoned us back. Just in time, as it exploded open, accompanied by Squalo's yell of, "VOI!!! Don't tell me what to do, the fucking desk is more urgent than the crazy brat's playdate! Boss wants to burn the lot and I'm not coming in to find that every fucking thing in the desk's been turned to ashes!"

Oregano and I perked up at the "P" word, sensing a kindred soul. Well, maybe not a close relation, but at least something along the lines of the divorced brother-in-law of the second-cousin-once-removed, dealing in woodpulp and therefore one of ours.

Wordlessly, I offered him the basket. He snatched it from my hands, shoved it on Lussuria, and stormed off. Nearing the stairs, he turned and snarled, "Well? Aren't you here to meet the brat?"

"This one was not informed of his partner's personality." I said as I scrambled to catch up.

He answered as we walked, "Fucking brat tore through half the Storm Division before boss beat him, and now he calls the boss 'king', calls himself 'prince', and calls everyone else peasant."

"You too?" Oregano asked semi-sympathetically.

He grimaced, "'Shark-peasant'."

We stopped outside a reinforced room--a training room, I presumed. Turning to me, he said, "You speak crazy, so speak crazy with Bel and don't get killed. I don't need Sawada-scum's whining."

He opened the door and threw me in.

I channeled my forward momentum into a roll that took me out of the way of a volley of knives, then sprang back up, using a moment to survey the room. The few dummies in it were so full of knives that they looked like metal Christmas trees, and more knives littered the floor. My opponent favored thrown weaponry.

"Ushishishi. A peasant come to challenge the prince?"

I stepped to the side, and heard the thuds of connected hits sound from the floor. The prince was fast, but Oinin throwing senbon were faster. Speaking of Oinin, I touched the banked blue coals at my core, breathing them to life, then shaped their anti-heat into a bastardized version of their hijutsu. I called it Apricot Blossom Rain, the rain of early spring, too light to be a drizzle, to heavy to be a fog, so subtle that you did not realize it was there until suddenly, you noticed that your clothes were wet. An apt name for something designed to weaken the enemy without their knowing, slowing down the pace of battle by tranquilizing their strength and all the kinetic energy within the jutsu's range.

Annoyingly, I was unarmed. Well, that was easily remedied. I caught the next wave of pointy objects, then shot back, "This one is not of thy fiefdom."

We traded a few more blows coupled with insults as my jutsu did its job, the prince noticeably more sluggish than in the beginning while I matched his pace. Then I moved on the attack. "Wherefore-" I asked, catching his wrist as I returned to normal speed, "-was this one-" I threw him to the ground, "-named peasant?" I put him in a hold. "This one should be a squire at least."

"Ushishishi. Not a peasant." The prince conceded. Burning pain flared from our point of contact, and I let go on reflex. He took the opening to reverse our positions. I felt hot steel at my neck. "A page."

It wasn't as if he could kill me when I had reality-warping Mist Flames at my disposal, so I huffed in annoyance. I cut off the Apricot Blossom, then let Matatabi burn away the friction between us. A forceful jerk to one side, and he was off my back, and my wrist was out of his, at the price of letting his knife open a wound.

Blood and conflict. Lovely. A very auspicious start to a Chigiri friendship.

"A lord's ward." I countered once I got up, my CEDEF badge glinting in the light.

"Still a page." He pouted, playing with the knife stained with my blood.

Be that way. At least I was part of the royal household, even if, according to sir, I was the Antichrist(the Adversary, Destroyer of Kings, Angel of the Bottomless Pit, Great Beast that is called Dragon, Prince of This World, Father of Lies, Spawn of Satan and Lord of Darkness). I put my hands on my hips and asked, "As thou dubbed this one, so shall this one be. Wilt thou permit this one to attend upon thee?"

"The Prince shall." He allowed magnanimously, "If the page collects the Prince's knives."

I picked one up. A flare of Matatabi had it evaporating beneath my fingers--cloud construct. "No point."

He sulked, draping his lanky frame over me, "The page is no fun."

I felt a sharp tug at my hair. I didn't even have pigtails. Then I realized that he had kept the strands from brushing themselves against the cut at the back of my neck. That was rather gentlemanly, as the Bloody Mist had it.

The door opened. "Not dead yet?" Lussuria trilled, "Look at the two of you! Lemonade and cookies, dearies?"

The Varia were weird. Rather homesickness-inducing too. Didn't stop me from snatching the larger glass of pink lemonade for Matatabi to burn into sorbet. I did the same for the Prince Bel after he started poking me with one of his knives. Pig. Tails.


Turned out that a suitable target had been picked for us to test our teeth on. Bel was there to massacre all the mooks, while I was supposed to retrieve useful information/loot the corpses/keep him from killing us all with an accidentally started electrical fire, etc.

We had plenty of fun. I think. He went on a rampage, so I avoided friendly fire and dealt with whatever half-dead victims he missed putting in the ground. Bel didn't deliberately aim knives at me, unlike someone I could name, and even let me have the last kill. How sweet. Lussuria and Oregano filmed it as proof for the naysayers. Was this what sir meant when he whimpered about Oregano liking scary-sweet?

It was decided. I was going to be close to Bel just to exacerbate sir's suffering.


I can't think of any other way for Bel to carry the inordinate amount of knives we see in canon, so he has a Cloud Secondary in this fic. Not relevant, except for the fact that he'll never run out of knives. And since this is Newly Employed Bel, he hasn't incorporated wires into his fighting style yet.

And I call the Basil and Bel relationship BB. :)