"A cat's footsteps, a winter's morn, rosemary infused butter, father's sweat—add in mother's tears when you get there, three eggs and sugar, molasses and flour, yeast, snowmelt collected from pine boughs, a pinch of salt from Sicilian shores, mhmmm…" Oma puttered about, collecting one jar and the next from her shelves, "What else… ah, pearl dust and lion's mane, five drops of hope and—the boy's of the land of the Rising Sun, yes?—chrysanthemum's resilience in the face of winter."
"You're running low on wronged man's last breath and stepmother's ashes." Turmeric observed, "Not to mention elven hair, fairy wings, the last light of dawn and baking soda."
"Bah, yes. Your Baba's not due to visit until Oktoberfest, and your other grandfather's far too busy with reaping lately to spare the time to collect any last breaths, while those nasty little buggers are catching on to the fact that you aren't around anymore and don't come by as often. The Lidl here was also closed the last time I visited, so I'm making due—on the bright side, I did restock on Nazi screams. Now, out, I'm baking." She slammed the kitchen door in our faces.
"Nazi screams?" Lal asked with great interest, "What do you use them for?"
"I don't know." Turmeric frowned, "I think that Oma and Baba make a liquor out of them, but they've never shared it with me."
"And there'll be hot dogs and mac and cheese and super cool barbeques!" Sir sang the praises of American food loudly as we turned a corner. On my shoulder, my boss's fingers drummed a code. Assassin.
I kept up the ingenue persona with ease, "That sounds so cool, sir! What's so special about American barbeques?"
"Well, haha, Basil-kun, it begins with the sauce!" –0 the Hell Ring counted down, and I dropped to dodge the bullet.
People were screaming, running every which way like shoals of fish when dolphins were on the hunt, and in the confusion, Sir pulled my hood up over my hair and then pushed me away towards my terminal.
"Say hello for me, Basil!" He whispered, and then was gone, a beacon of bright yellow hair and orange construction worker's overalls. I understood. I was unnoticeable next to the neon of the Young Lion, and my youth should mean that I would never be far from his side, which would lead to my would-be assassin following him away, possibly assuming that he was heading for America, while I boarded the plane to Japan.
It was a sound plan, although it meant that Sawada Nana wouldn't get to see her husband—I suspected that he was trying to avoid the awkwardness of the reunion, for sir was as much a coward in matters of heart as he was courageous in matters of life and death.
He had also abandoned me to my first plane ride, while I was an unaccompanied minor. Typical. I checked my reserves, then set about constructing an adult to deal with concerned civilians. Dull blond hair, blue eyes, medium build and casual clothes plus a Stephen King novel in hand, he was the epitome of boring, which was my goal. I then hugged my pack with its precious dozen cookies to my chest, and began reading the safety manual like a good boy while my fake father dealt with such petty annoyances as people claiming that we were in their seats.
I slipped through customs with a judicious application of Mist Flames, then exchanged some Euros for Yen. Namimori had a private airport, but there weren't any flights that way, so I had to take a bus or taxi after I made landfall. Probably a bus. Cheaper.
I arrived at my destination at sunset, which, given that it was midsummer, would mean that it was past the Young Master's bedtime, which was just as well, as I would need to talk with the Lady before I touched her son.
My stomach rumbled. I hadn't eaten after the airplane meal, and the only food in my bag was its precious cargo—poor packing, that, but I hadn't realized that I would be separated from Sir, and it had been quite long since I had gone on a non-infiltration mission that lasted longer than a day, so I supposed it was forgivable. A repeat performance wasn't though.
Decisions, decisions, dinner first, or should I impose on the Lady's hospitality? Given that the sushi shop was run by the retired Autumn Rain, whose wife was dead because of the attention Vongola had drawn to Namimori, and that I really didn't want to poke around for another place to eat, I found myself worryingly willing to throw myself at the mercy of a mother with a great and justified grudge against the organization to which I was beholden.
Well then. I should be going home to my parents at this time, why was I out so late? Hmmm, maybe I should actually be applying to Nami-chu? No.
A flare of Flame disrupted the constant genjutsu. It was a powerful one, and even aware of its effects, I had to struggle not to be put under. Sparking a hint of Rain into my Mist, I slipped through Lightning-reinforced Mist to knock on the Sawada residence's door.
"Coming!" Called a carefree woman's voice.
A mischievous mood struck me, and I dropped to one knee as my master's wife opened the door.
"Ara? Who is this?"
"This clumsy one is the disciple of Your Lord Husband, my Lady, that this one is." I answered, taking great pleasure in usurping the samurai's mode of speech.
"Ooh!" Nana clapped her hands in comprehension, "Do come in! I have some rice for you!"
I toed off my shoes before following her into the house, then set my pack on the ground and perched in the chair by the western style table while Nana set a plate of rice with a umeboshi at the center before me.
"A thousand thanks for Your generosity!" I bowed again, cheerfully, "Itadakimasu!"
I loved the peculiar brand of mouthwatering salt-and-sour the pickled and dried ume bore, which mixed wonderfully with the rice—a fragrant, fluffy sort, like that which I had eaten in Kiri. Yum!
Nana giggled, "Eat up! You look so little! And what's your name—no, I shouldn't ask that—what can I call you?"
"This one is called Bajiru by Your Lord Husband, my Lady!" I answered cheerfully, savoring each bite of the poisoned meal and already feeling the tingling in my fingertips. Sir never told me that his Lady Wife was a true Yamato Nadeshiko!
I placed the stone in the center of the emptied dish, then bowed, "This clumsy one is most grateful for Your hospitality, My Lady." I said, then carefully got out of the chair to take two steps backward, mindful of my freezing limbs. I then arranged myself seiza, as was proper, while Nana laughed warmly and cleared away the utensils.
Bajiru-kun—or was it -san? Nana wasn't sure how old her guest was, although he looked very young—was so very cute. And closer to a spirit than a demon, if he hadn't been burned by the holy water and sanctified sake in her cooking—but that was to be expected, in Iemitsu-koi's court!
Her beloved husband was definitely a Daiyoukai, with his love of shogun names and his giant retinue and the long, long list of duties that kept him away from her all year—it was all so romantic, like the weaver and the cowherd! They were separated all year long so that they weren't distracted from their work, but they could reunite for one night on the seventh day of the seventh month on a bridge of magpies—Iemitsu dear had even called a flock of the birds of good fortune for their Fifth Anniversary.
Nana gave herself a shake. She couldn't afford to get distracted; this was very important. The poison her beloved had given her should be working by now—Bajiru may have been sent by her husband, but the youkai was still dangerous.
"The last time my husband's work came home, my son was cursed." Nana said quietly that useless brat, cold stone and worthless weight, cast the changeling out, bring back my son—he is my son—Yamato Nadeshiko; Yamato Nadeshiko: wise wife, good mother. Wise wife, good mother. "What assurance do you have that you aren't bringing worse with you?"
"This one's word." The youkai promised solemnly, not at all ill at ease from his food being laced, "It was with the undoing of that Curse, that this one before You was gravely charged, and so sincerely would it poorly be, should this clumsy one bring Your Son to harm."
"They claimed that the curse was to help him." Nana disagreed, "How do I know that what you say isn't more of the same?"
The youkai inclined his head, "The cure itself would indeed too harsh be, but this one bears the solution thereto with, that this one does."
"And that would be?"
"In this one's pack a bag of biscuits lie." Bajiru said, gesturing awkwardly with his head, what with the paralysis—Nana felt a flash of guilt—she'd make it up to the little youkai boy later (sushi, maybe?), "Give Your Son the Young Master one every year, and should circumstances deteriorate, another."
"And that's it?" It made sense…Tsuna-kun had been cursed in the span of the few minutes she had taken her eyes off him, waste of effort, cursed thing, five years gone down the drain and more to come—he's my son—so it couldn't have been anything complicated, which meant that it was only reasonable that uncursing Tsuna and keeping him healthy would be equally simple—it was always true love's kiss or a prayer to the gods or the help of a traveling monk or Taoist in the stories, after all. As if anyone would bother for that sort of scum—Yamato Nadeshiko—
(Fortunately, Nana was not familiar with the tale of the seven swans and their poor, nettle-weaving sister.)
"The simple effects, yes." Bajiru confirmed, then winced, "But uncursed, the Young Master Your Son would be the Rightful Heir to a legacy of blood and brutality, and such is too great a burden to bear so young, that it is."
"Is it going to get lighter with time?"
The youkai froze, wide-eyed, "Nay, my Lady—and yet it is the price of the uncursing—the Young Master will be called upon by the Will in his blood and the doom in his fate."
Perfect, it might actually be worth—my son. "Tsu-kun isn't an adventurous boy!" She protested, only just remembering to keep from screaming, "He just wants to live a normal life! He should get one!"
Her husband's disciple bowed his head, "This clumsy one begs forgiveness, but Your Lord Husband only showed this one a single path."
"Is there no other way?"
"This useless one deserves a thousand deaths—this one has yet to find one, that this one has—but this one could delay its unfolding."
Tsu-kun—fake stolen —mine!—shivering and sad and clumsy and repulsive—my son!. Nana slumped, this wasn't a nice fairy tale after all, but an old epic, and painful. "I'll let you do it—but on one condition."
"This one has washed his ears to listen respectfully."
Nana narrowed her eyes wise wife, good mother, "I want to talk to my husband—as soon as possible."
"Your Will be done." The youkai bowed his head once more, seeming at once painfully young in his shock and eerily old.
"Can you uncurse Tsu-kun now?" She asked—very guiltily—Nana was going to let Bajiru-kun get whatever he wanted at Takesushi.
The little youkai nodded his head, "Verily so, my Lady!" He blinked, then added sheepishly, "Alas, mayhaps when this one is more recovered?"
"Oh!" Nana winced, "Of course, Bajiru-kun! I have the antidote with me, just wait here, I'll fix it right up!"
And once she helped the boy drink it down, she made them both tea, and after that was done, went up to wake Tsuna-kun up. Icy creature, why put in the effort, let it suffer—wise wife, good mother—
"This is Bajiru-kun." Nana introduced, "Tsuna-kun, Bajiru-kun is going to make you better, okay?"
"But I don' wanna doctor!" Tsuna shook his head ferociously, protesting rat, ungrateful beast, can't even speak properly leave it to rot—Yamato Nadeshiko, wise wife, good mother, "They never make things better!"
Bajiru tilted his head, then smiled, eyes curved into crescents, "Well then, Sawada-dono, it's lucky that this one is no doctor, that this one is not! This one will make things better, that this one shall."
Tsuna furrowed his brow as he tried to parse the youkai's archaic speech, "Promise?"
"On this one's name." Bajiru bowed.
Tsuna considered it for a moment, "Okay."
"Then, Young Master, would You take a seat?"
The actual spellcasting was quick, the youkai's body blocking her from seeing just what had happened, only flickers of indigo and blue light that rippled on the walls as if from underwater.
And then Tsuna let out a wail.
Nana was moving before she knew it, pushing her husband's disciple aside as she swept her son into her arms, "What's wrong, Tsuna-kun? Tell mama! Mama will make it better!"
She hoped—she had been terribly powerless, "It's wa—warm!" Tsuna sobbed, "'s not cold anymore—I'm warm, mama!"
And then she realized with a jolt that the nasty voice her thoughts spoke in sometimes was gone—she had rushed to her son—her son's side without a thought, no conflicting instinct to just let him cry—all that was gone! Before she knew it, she was crying too, tears of relief falling hot and hard, "That's wonderful, Tsuna-kun! All thanks to Bajiru-kun!"
The boy was coming back in from the kitchen, a cup of warmed milk in his hands. She absently realized that she hadn't heard him go. Setting the cup down before them and then producing an unwrapped parcel containing twelve cookies arranged neatly in four stacks, he murmured, "Forgive this one the trespass, but these must needs Your tears touch."
Nana mustered up a watery smile, "Of course!"
She then let her tears fall onto the confectionery.
Oh! It was the scent of homecooked meals and quiet evenings, Iemitsu's musky warmth and a soothing cup of tea—peace.
"If You would, Young Master." The boy proffered a single cookie with the milk.
"Tsu-kun gets a cookie too?" Tsuna asked, eyes wide in wonderment and reverting to how he used to speak when he was even smaller.
"And one every year." Bajiru reminded her, "Unless you want the warmth to become too hot."
"Tsu-kun will remember!" Tsuna promised.
Nana laughed, "And mama will remember too, okay, Tsu-kun?"
"Uh-huh!"
"Then this one shall impose no longer this night, that this one shall not."
"Are you sure, Bajiru-kun?" Nana asked.
"Quite, my Lady." The boy bowed, "This time is Yours and Your Son's—not for this clumsy one to disturb."
"Alright!" Nana clapped her hands, "But you have to come back tomorrow for a goodbye and thank-you meal!"
The youkai looked like a rabbit caught in the light, "As you will, my Lady!" He affirmed, staring up at her through his fringe with wide blue eyes. "This one takes his leave!"
And then he disappeared out the open window.
666 my Hell Ring clicked, and I got the impression that it was doing so gleefully. I didn't have a hotel and I wasn't going to sleep at the Lady's house, not with how intense the kekkai was—I could feel it letting up to a more normal amount as I left, but resting under another's genjutsu? My skin crawled at the thought.
I called up Sir's ramblings about his den. Hmm… I turned on my heel and headed into the park. I might not be a tree-hugger, but I could hide in the leaves with the best of them.
A human-induced rustle came to my awareness three hours into my nap. I peered out of my roost and realized that the intruder was another boy, black-haired and phoenix-eyed, carrying a pair of wooden tonfa.
Not good.
665. My Hell Ring clicked again. I wasn't going to fight in trees when I didn't have chakra to stick to the branches properly, not when there was a perfectly good pool right below me that was far more suited to my nature. A gentle wash of Rain burned away all noise as I dropped down into the water.
Suiton was technically the technique of sheltering in water, most often through concealing one's presence with plants scattered over the surface, and the duckweed and lilies served that purpose quite well. I lowered myself into the comforting coolness until only half my head remained in the air. I wasn't going to use Flames until I got a better idea of what was going on, especially given my suspicions as to just who the boy was.
664. Honestly, was my Ring just enjoying the fact that it could now inflict misfortune upon me with abandon? I rested my elbows on the water surface and laid my head over them to wait for the boy to come closer.
He poked at me with a tonfa, "You're trespassing. Staying up past your bedtime is against the rules and shall be punished by being bitten to death."
I blinked at him and sank deeper into the safety of the pool. "This clumsy one is cathemeral, that this one is. It is not past this one's bedtime."
The boy paused as he processed the information.
"You are trespassing on public property." He tried again, "And polluting water sources."
"How can one trespass upon public property?" I asked.
I dove to avoid the tonfa. He followed me onto water, purple Flames propagating surface tension to support his weight. Why was Hibari Kyouya already Active?
I dodged a few attacks, and then the Cloud leapt back to shore.
"Ayakashi." He pronounced, satisfied.
663. Grr. "If thou wilt." I grumbled, then sank below the surface. A bit of Mist Flame manipulation supplied me with oxygen until the sun came up and I was free to emerge from hiding.
"Thy wife wishes to speak with thee." I informed sir, shoving the care package Nana had made into Sir's arms, "And Sir—has the Young Master's opinion been asked as to whether or not he wills the Vongola to take for his own?
659. You could hear a pin drop in the silence that followed the question. I had thought it all over on the way back and decided that I would proceed with the ordering of the Vongola either way—no matter who took the throne, I would not have it be any fault of mine that they suffered any inconvenience in their reign. That would be my discharge of the duties I had taken up.
As to whether or not I would hand the Young Master so weighty a crown? I would follow my boss's lead on the matter, so long as his reasons were acceptable.
Sir was giggling to disguise his dismay. "Ahahaha, I haven't thought about that though, Basil-kun! Looks like Shishou is being silly again! He'll go talk to his lovely wife about that soon!"
The good thing about starting so young, however, was that we had time. I relaxed, "This one defers to thy judgement, Sir."
"Okay then! Good job, Basil! Dismissed!"
I left Sir to his panicking. He would process it better alone.
And now, to visit Bel.
I got Aniseed to drop me off at the Varia Mansion and made my way in up a tree and through the second-story window (disabling a truly disturbing amount of explosives), then winded through labyrinthine corridors, reset a few illusions, and finally reached where Bel was—of all things—doing paperwork!
The apocalypse was upon us. I snuck up on Bel with a cat-foot tread, then rested the edge of my boomerang/set-square against his throat—barely, but not quite touching. "Prince mine." I chirped, catching the trio of knives with my free hand.
"Page!" Bel cried out gleefully, "Long has been our parting, and so sweet our reunion! Joyous indeed is this occasion!"
"This one has been otherwise occupied in the far east of the world." I laughed back, producing the deluxe Takesushi package, "And brings back fitting tribute indeed for thee!"
"Sushi!" Bel clapped his hands and then drew me into a tight hug, "The most delicious of dishes, from the fairest of hands!"
I sank into his warmth, "And through terrible dangers also." I complained, "The proprietor was an assassin." I nuzzled my Prince, "A retired assassin. With grievance against the Vongola."
"Poor Page." Bel cooed, petting my hair with one hand and disintegrating the top of the box with the other, "The Page should come under the King's banner—there won't be such problems then."
I poked him, "Nay, my Prince, this one shall not do thy work, let alone ease the suffering thou hast caused unfortunate Squalo."
"Hmph!" Bel grumbled, "No Fatty Tuna for the Page."
I grinned, snatching up a small bowl of slimy, sharp smelling chopped raw octopus, "Just as well! This Page favors wasabi tako!"
OMAKE
Basil on FFVII: MUKURO! Did you possess Squalo while you were in Japan and let someone see you? This villain is basically your backstory and personality shoved into his body with a touch of Xanxus' daddy issues thrown into the mix, and who in the name of all things reasonable thought that was a good idea?
Kufufufu… I'm not telling—but, now that you mention it, "puppet" sounds quite cute. Hmm, I wonder who I can use it on?