Reborn shows up during lunch time with his nth espresso of the day in one hand and Fon's sleeve in the other.

"Are you trying to hide from me?" Reborn mocks when he sits on the bench beside Tsuna.

Tsuna's usual lunch spot is in a little forgotten corner where the wooden bench is chipped away until only a hint of it's original green paint is still visible. It's pressed up against the school's fence and partially hidden by a large mass of bushes.

Reborn looks around, amused. "You're such a loser. Do you actually have no friends to sit with?"

Tsuna stares down at his packed lunch and tries to suppress the crippling shame. It's not that he doesn't have friends…

"Leave him alone," Fon berates, ushering Reborn over a bit so he can sit down as well. Fon leans forward to see past Reborn and smiles at Tsuna. "It's okay to want some time to yourself-"

"But he's hardly here because he wants to be," Reborn interrupts. "I bet no one likes him because of how ugly he is."

Tsuna quickly looks away. Is he ugly? He knows he's not the best but he's tolerable… right?

Fon snatches Reborn's espresso out of the hitman's hands and tosses it up onto the fence a few meters away. It lands neatly, perfectly balanced.

"Fon," Reborn complains.

"Whoops, my hand slipped," Fon deadpans. "Better go get that before it falls."

Reborn huffs but stands up and stomps over to his drink.

"He likes to play," Fon tells Tsuna, sliding over on the bench so when Reborn comes back Tsuna has a buffer. "The mafia fights with words as much as they fight with fists. Reborn will probably say these kinds of things until you can shake it off when someone actually does try to throw you."

Is Fon playing the game too? Tsuna calms down a lot when he realises this insult thing will probably be apart of the gameplay later. Maybe he'll have to really subtly insert double meanings when he greets other mafia bosses, like in all the western movies.

Reborn laughs. "Hear that, Dame-Tsuna? When I insult you I'm just trying to help you. Be grateful." The hitman kicks the metal fence and the cup drops into his hand.

Fon smiles. "Or maybe Reborn is just a sadistic bastard and he gets off on destroying people. Either way, it's best to ignore him."

Tsuna glances between them, wide eyed. Wait, so is this a tutorial or not?

Reborn stops beside the bench and lays a hand on Fon's shoulder. "Have I told you how fat you're looking today? Maybe you should stop stuffing your face with mapo tofu, it's clearly doing nothing for your figure."

Fon looks at him fondly.

"And is that a split end I see?" Reborn muses, lifting Fon's braid and wiggling it around. "You know steroids are bad for your hair."

"I don't take steroids," Fon says in a tone that means they've had this conversation multiple times before.

"Likely story," Reborn murmurs, lazily slapping Fon's face with the man's own hair.

Fon grabs Reborn and pulls the hitman down onto the bench so Reborn will stop playing with the braid. "Can you not go one second without being difficult?"

"If I'm so difficult then why are you still here?"

"Stockholm syndrome."

Someone clears their throat and the three look over to find Kyouya with his tonfas out. Fon looks a little impressed at Kyouya's homing ability because he's only been here for ten minutes at most. Tsuna is slowly becoming more confused because is this a tutorial or not?

"Get out of my school," Kyouya orders.

Fon pats Reborn's hip. "Up you get, we have to go."

"Not him," Kyouya specifies. "He can stay."

Reborn smirks. "Bye bye, Fon." He wiggles his fingers in a cutesy wave.

Fon raises his hands in surrender and easily flips over the three meter high fence. Then he stands there with a ditzy smile on his face that looks mocking.

"Don't test me," Kyouya threatens.

"I'm not in your school," Fon points out.

"You are in my town."

"Fon gets lonely sometimes," Reborn tells Kyouya. "Let him stand there, poor thing starts crying if no one looks after him."

"Fine," Fon sighs. "I'm going."

"Wait," Reborn calls out. He takes a last sip and tosses his now empty cup to Fon.

Kyouya waits until Fon disappears behind a row of houses before he turns to Reborn and Tsuna. "Ask your questions and then send him up to me."

Reborn looks at Tsuna and the boy chickens out.

"Oh, look at the time, class is about to start," Tsuna blurts out. He doesn't have questions prepared and Reborn is too intimidating to do this on the fly.

Kyouya watches with a flat expression as Tsuna escapes. "Never mind then. Hitman, with me. We need to lay some ground rules if you're going to be 'playing a mafia game'."

Kyouya strides off but pauses when he realises Reborn isn't following. The hitman has an arm slung over the back of the bench while the other is propped up on his crossed knees.

Kyouya walks back and only stops when his knees are pressing into the hitman's. "This is not Italy anymore. Learn to behave yourself."

"It's not that you're… not intimidating," Reborn begins kindly. "For a… what, sixteen? For a sixteen year old you've got quite the skill with killing intent, but I'm not a civilian, and frankly you're not nearly the worst I've seen."

Reborn leans forward, peering up at Kyouya through his eyelashes. "I can play if you want. I can pretend that your strength might just catch up to me one day. I can fake being threatened by you, or awed by the… ha, 'power' that you've amassed here. But you've got to give me some compensation."

Kyouya tilts his head. "How about your body? Is that not enough compensation?"

"I am grateful for this form," Reborn waves off, leaning back again. "And don't worry, I will pay you back. I've been given permission to select Dame-Tsuna's Guardians - the people he'll delegate to the most."

"You want me to work for the bunny?" Kyouya asks sceptically. "That is the extent of your gratefulness? A job?"

"The Vongola isn't a little family that deals weed to elitist suburban housewives," Reborn explains patiently to the civilian. "It's one of the largest powerhouses in the mafia. That means strength and contacts far beyond anything you could get yourself."

Kyouya purses his lips. "And I would control it?"

"Let's go with that," Reborn offers up, amused.

"I need to prepare," Kyouya realises, tucking away his tonfas. "The Disciplinary Committee will be expanding."

Kyouya turns away but pauses and looks back, grabbing Reborn by the back of the neck and leaning in close. "You're a good investment," Kyouya praises. "When I absorb the Vongola I'll keep you."

Reborn slams a knee into Kyouya's abdomen hard enough that the teen doubles over and retches, almost throwing up. He collapses onto his knees, arms curled around his stomach and heaving as pain radiates out. Fuck, it's a broken rib.

"I'm not Vongola," Reborn explains casually as he stands. "Just doing a favour for a good friend. But sure, when you can make me, then I'll be your hitman."

Reborn heads off to find Dame-Tsuna. He still hasn't made the boy cry yet but the day is young.