All Good Devils Masquerade


Xanxus takes back about a third of the shitty things he's said about that annoying Superbi brat. He's never been as annoyed with him as he's seemed of course, because if anyone at that fucking school had ever realized that he was actually receptive and could form Guardian bonds then it would have been a blood bath. That brat had noticed, which was a point in his fucking favor along with general Flame compatibility, which is probably why he'd been so fucking stubborn about the whole fucking thing.

Not that any of that really matters now, of course.

Actions aside, Xanxus has known since he first began toddling around the brothel that throwing a fit about things won't do anything but briefly blow off some steam. Later, when he's known as 'of Vongola' and he's throwing masterwork furniture at the walls, he figures that it makes him feel better immediately afterwards, and for the five or ten minutes after that, but the problem still hasn't been fixed and he's lost face losing his cool.

Then again, what face does he really have to lose? Being the bastard streetrat of a man as loved as Timoteo Vongola… it's obvious how that would play out. Even though it was the man's own indiscretions that resulted in Xanxus being alive in the first place - it's Xanxus who bares the brunt of those sins. Already, he can do no right for something he had nothing to do with in the first place.

If he's not being kicked around for being a whore's son, and if his mother hasn't completely lost her fucking head and gotten them kicked out of there, and he's not being fucking 'disciplined' by the tutors assigned to him by Vongola because no one has tried to teach him manners before so he has no background for that shit, and Timoteo's Guardian's aren't kicking him around to 'teach' him about the goddamned Flames he manifested much younger than a child should, in a household of fucking Skies when he's the youngest and he has no Guardians to shield him-

Honestly, being literally torn apart and tortured before forced to relive his childhood on the streets? It's more or less just the same shit on another day. At this point, he takes it for granted that of course thanks to everything he's been through so far, any last scrap of 'generosity' has finally been crushed out of his desire to live. It leaves him susceptible to the thunderous Sway that had dragged him out of the drugged coma he'd been in for months, and apparently it means that a short confrontation with their captors have left him with some kind of shitty Guardian bond with that weakling, Cavallone Gherardino.

Well, what fucking ever. Xanxus rolls with the goddamned punch. It's better than getting his face broken over his own shitty pride, isn't it?

So long as the punch isn't come from some lame Sun-idiot with rotting Flames, anyway. Xanxus might only have half of his Flames left to him, but he's still a hundred times superior to that rotting-Flames shithead who got in his face about it. It's annoying just thinking about it, and Xanxus irritably flings the book off his face, sitting up in the cushy chair he'd claimed for himself.

Excessiveness aside… that Cavallone idiot knew how to furnish his house. It's miles ahead of what it'd been when he'd tagged along with Frederico to get an overview of their ally's circumstances. He doesn't know the story other than the obvious fact that House Cavallone is currently driving itself into the ground and everyone had suspected it would collapse before it's disaster of a Decimo could take charge - the most likely outcome being that Vongola would absorb the house into their own and that Gherardino would disappear to whatever ends suited Timoteo best.

Not that Xanxus is going to let that happen now. Cavallone Senior can't die fast enough in his opinion.

Hearing the startled squeak that his newly minted Sky gives, Xanxus amends that one day he'll at least not drag Xanxus down. If he hadn't already seen who Gherardino is capable of growing up into, he'd probably be a lot more pissed about it, but he has. And Cavallone Dino doesn't posture and while part of Xanxus is inclined to associate the lack with weaklings and civilians: there are certain kinds of Sky that don't feel the need to posture.

Besides, with this he'll definitely be moved out of that hateful house, and if he starts on Gherardino this young, then he'll definitely shape him up into someone that can surpass that lackadaisical adult by fucking light years. He can strength Vongola by strengthening the house of their ally, probably better than he could have from inside that house, anyway.

It's not like despite his reluctance otherwise, Gherardino doesn't want to impress him, after all - rather than taking him to the drawing room or the kitchen as his older self suggested, Gherardino had taken him to the Cavallone Library. Of course there's nothing really interesting here, since anything of a sensitive nature is sure to be kept in the adult Cavallone's office, but the initiative is promising. Besides, it had given Xanxus a chance to ignore the kid safely and regroup and plan.

Too bad his nap was such a failure.

Gherardino had without complaint stuffed himself into the window seat. The book he'd taken with him has been ignored for the sake of sulking about the situation, Xanxus guesses, which is at least better than crying about it. Good thing the brat understands enough to know that at least.

"Hey," Xanxus says sharply. "You. What was your impression of that cow-eyed brat?"

Although Gherardino is making a face just like it: round, wary eyes watching from the defensive ball he's curled himself into. That's shitty weakling posture, which is annoying, and Xanxus isn't really sure what that's all about; sure, House Cavallone is weak, and they're just peons, but they're Vongola's peons. As someone of the Vongola household, that means that Xanxus doesn't let any shitty outsiders interfere with them.

And it's not like any of the usual signs of an adult taking out their resentment on someone weaker are present.

"Um," Gherardino says, "the… the civilian, you mean?"

"Who else," he snaps. That Flame-rot shithead is more or less a non-issue as long as he keeps his fucking distance. Even after six months of forced inactivity having laid waste to his body, and missing half his Flames, Xanxus can handle that brat. He would have thought to handle the other, except-

"He's-" Gherardino says hesitantly, screwing up his face a bit. He lacks confidence, obviously - conviction, maybe. Xanxus has always had more than enough conviction - so much he'd been able to manifest his Flames on his own while on the streets with barely any training. He'd had to, to survive. Even Latent Skies draw attention whether they like it or not, and for a grubby streetrat like him?

That's fine. Xanxus can beat some conviction into the kid.

"He's okay," Gherardino settles on finally, a bit uncertainly. He glances at Xanxus warily, and then admits: "The older me is a bit scary, you know. I know he doesn't mean to, but… thank you for standing where you did."

Xanxus scoffs, which is the only answer that deserves. Part of the reason why Vongola is The Strongest is because Timoteo has managed to raise all his little Sky Heirs into adulthood under one roof. No other Famiglia can say that. It's a testament to Timoteo's skills and his power that he managed it - as well as to his character… in various ways.

Xanxus remembers clearly what it's like to be the youngest Sky with several seniors present. Even if the strange instincts he's never felt this clearly before hadn't goaded him into the reckless kind of action he'd been sympathizing with that Superbi brat earlier over, he would have stood there.

"But - I don't know. It's not like that with him," he says, frowning down at the book laying abandoned by his feet. "D- … do you think that I could turn out like that? Not…" He swallows. "Not being scary all the time?"

What the hell kind of mafia brat is this kid supposed to be? Xanxus nurses the irritation that flares bright red in the center of his chest for a moment before he considers what Skies he could have had to look up to - which is none. Gherardino is the first Sky of the Cavallone Famiglia. His own useless father isn't even Active - and even if he were, he's not a Sky. It was because he's the first that Xanxus and Frederico had even visited with the Cavallone back then - the possible birth of a new Sky Dynasty isn't something to scoff at or ignore.

Xanxus had been less than impressed with the ten year old. He's a bit more worldly now that he's been to school and had to deal with newly emerged Skies from other Famiglias.

Still: "Weakness is a death sentence, and most of the guys you'll be dealing with as Cavallone Decimo will take it that way."

Gherardino wilts, looking miserable, but - well, life isn't fucking fair, now is it? He'll have to prove himself to have power enough to crush his enemies before he weakens his own position and Vongola's by association just to suit his personal preferences.

As for that civilian Sky not being scary, on one level Xanxus wants to laugh. Of course that trash isn't scary! What would he need scariness for? He's too well fed, too well conditioned despite the signs of his recent convalescence for him to have been living a dangerous lifestyle. Mafia brats are all a bit rangy between self-indulgent meals and defying death and binging on vices.

But even if his Sway is almost nothing, the bare minimum of Latent levels of Sky Attraction… Xanxus recognizes it. It's that same call to war that dragged him up from the dreaming. How someone could have compelled him like that only to show up later with barely no Sway to speak of…

Xanxus clicks his tongue, sitting up from the sprawl he'd still been doing over the arm of the chair and shooting a venomous glare toward the library door just in time for it to pop open. Son of a bitch. Hadn't anyone taught that jackass - no, of course not, he thinks with a spark of venomous, throbbing fury. It's obvious no one had.

He wishes he hadn't dropped the book on the floor if only to hurl it at the two cow-eyed idiots who are entering the library right now.

Honestly, they're the most unsettling part of this whole misadventure. Gherardino and his older self are separated by more than ten years of age - they're both Skies, and it's easy for Xanxus to see where the thirteen years old boy he's bonded to could not only become but surpass the man who has taken them in as a favor to that 'Verde' person. But those two idiots? It almost feels like some kind of twisted Mist mirage.

That Flame-rot idiot comes in with a purpose, a full fledged mafia brat raised on presentation and expectation, posturing confidently despite having the same kind of putrid Will expected of a month-old corpse. The shorter, paler of the pair slinks in after him with watchful eyes, wearing the same clothing but in sloppy disarray, trying to take up as little space with his body as he does with his Sway like he's sorry he even exists.

"It's bad," the Flame-rot bastard says with the usual lack of decorum he's shown all this time - やばい! - before defaulting back to Italian: "Poison Scorpion Bianchi showed up!"

Xanxus stares at him blankly. The who of the what to the whom? The Bianchi part is almost fine - Xanxus has heard of some upstart family, since they've made it past their Primo generation and the Secundo of the name has taken over, but this business about some 'poison scorpion?' That bastard obviously thinks that it means something, but as an important Vongola figure, Xanxus has all the named assassins, hitmen, and notably Famiglia members memorized and there's no such title.

"Who?" Gherardino asks warily.

The Sun idiot makes a face like he's run directly into a glass wall.

"Um," the second cow-eyed idiot says - no, although it's true that he has cow-eyes, he's way too relaxed in a dangerous situation like this. Unlike the other one, he doesn't really meet anyone's eyes directly and his posture is too loose: like Timoteo's Guardians when they take notice of him. "It seems as though Cavallone Dino has a dangerous family member," he says mildly. "She showed up and immediately everyone fell in line and went along with this Bianchi Isabella."

Xanxus' head aches a bit. He's always been incredibly apt at languages, but the way that this idiot talks spins his head in a circle. It's not the book-formal manner that his tutor had taught him in, nor is it the rough manner used among the loud men that Timoteo does business with. Despite favoring the rough manner since its dynamic nature appealed, he's fluent in both dialects.

Every time the shorter cow-eyed idiot opens his mouth, it sounds less like a dialect and more like he's speaking in code.

"Hey, speak plainly for those of us who weren't there," Xanxus demands.

"Ah," the Flame-rot idiot says, never resembling a cow more as he blinks dumbly. "No - with Dino at that age - and Bianchi's even younger…" Somehow this revelation seems to crush him.

Xanxus really is furious that he'd discarded the book earlier. "I said speak clearly."

All that does is earn the Flame-rot idiot's ire, judging by the resentful look cut in his direction. It seems like the shithead knows him from his own world, and although Xanxus is accustomed to being treated in a variety of unfair ways due to circumstances beyond his control. It can't be helped if Xanxus is despised for the smear he is on the beloved Timoteo's name, but this bastard is holding him responsible for the behaviors of someone with their own reasons for however they're acting.

"Dino has a jealous Storm Guardian," the Flame-rot idiot says flatly, "who'll probably be mad when her cute young Sky has one different from her."

The civilian, who probably got about half of that given that his double was at least smart enough to use Italian terminology - or more likely just doesn't know the appropriate terms they use in Japan - adds: "her witchcraft seems to be something scary that'll poison food."

Xanxus is so distracted for a moment over the ridiculousness of that statement - not only the circumstances, although he understands how it came about, but the causal and factual way it's said - that he almost misses the way that the cow-eyed bastard looks to the lot of them, hiding his darting gaze behind a guileless-seeming blink and a natural, minor shift of his head. The hair at the back of Xanxus' neck goes on end: he's seen that kind of behavior before. He thought it before, that this bastard resembles that CEDEF blockhead an unhealthy amount.

The Flame-rot jackass cringes, his shoulders hunching guiltily. "Nayo," he says.

"Ah - sorry," he says, lifting his hands to fiddle with the buttons of his shirt in an anxious manner - that's no put on, though, and he does sound like he's apologetic for having said it that way, giving the other an uneasy, twitching smile. "But I didn't know how else to put it in this kind of dangerous situation, since just for being Cavallone Dino's wards, we'll attract Bianchi Isabella's ire. She gave us the kind of look you'd give furniture that's only good for being burned."

This guy is an anathema to everything Xanxus has been taught, he thinks, staring in a manner he's sure makes himself look like a cow-eyed idiot. A Sky with no pride or ego to speak of? How the fuck is that supposed to work anyway? Well, he should figure it out pretty quick, since it seems like Gherardino is similar that way, but that's likely more due to a lack of experience than whatever dysfunction that thing has.

Regardless, Xanxus… in his shape, he can handle some Flame-rot bastard on his own, but against an assassin good enough for a title, with an unknown skill set who is likely older than even these two given the Cavallone's age, and therefore better reach and stamina on top of being an established Guardian?

It's not as though Gherardino is in any shape to give him support, which doesn't even take into consideration what Xanxus' irrational instincts have to say about having such a vulnerable Sky and no one else to guard them while he deals with the threat.

"So that's it," he says sharply. "You're just here to deliver some kind of warning? For what?"

The shrimpier of the two looks somewhat taken aback, blinking gormlessly, but the Flame-rot idiot scowls. "As if I'd let Dino go into a situation like that without warning," he says sharply. Xanxus had already figured that he was more or less part of the Cavallone Famiglia, but - it's a bit amusing that a mafia brat like him has been allowing whether he likes someone or not to affect his behavior.

"In this situation," Xanxus says sharply, "no one here is the House you've allied with, so it doesn't matter."

"As if I care about that!" he barks back, clearly frustrated and infuriated - he's going to end up taking another step forward, and then Xanxus is going to break his face, or set him on fire and finish off whatever his Will started when it began to rot.

"Um," the other cuts in. That must be his favorite word, because otherwise he can just turn any word he wants into a blade with edges sharp enough to cut tension. The shrimp is still avoiding people's gazes and clutching at the folds in his shirt, which is weakness, but… there are edges of a frown that is strangely unsettling despite it being the same expression on that Flame-rot idiot's face.

The idiot wavers for a moment before he's helplessly pulled back in, reorienting on the Sky he's decided to follow, which is - but it allows Xanxus to feel a fraction of a second further from murder than before. The shrimp glances in their direction - no, glances at Gherardino playing 'child to be overlooked' in the window, and then looks down to Xanxus sprawled over the library chair between the doorway and the window and studies him a second.

"Isn't it specifically because we're in this situation that we should ally with one another?" he asks, although it's not a really a question. "For now, we should be united in our goal to get back to our homes safely. Even if Cavallone Dino seems willing to house us, he's just one person, and those people who did this to us in the first place…"

At the reminder, the shrimp's attention seems to waver itself, his gaze going distant and blank. It's not the same as it had when he'd pulled all those assumptions and accusations out of thin air like that asshole Head of the CEDEF, but it's not entirely unlike it, either. Looking back at him, the Flame-rot jackass frowns worriedly. He seems to read something into the lapse that troubles him - maybe something that came up when they looked in on the other two - before he steels himself.

It's a bit useful to know that this rotting bit of trash seems to be more focused on his carnival mirror than Gherardino, though Xanxus isn't really sure what the fuck is going on there. It's amazing that the shrimpier of the two could even tolerate having something like that around him, nevermind touching him willinging. For quite a while at that - he remembers clearly that one being pale and panicked and vulnerable and the way he clung to that Flame-rot shithead's hands without flinching.

It's true that Xanxus has noticed repeatedly that it's rare the Sky that has his own level of sensitivity, but the idea that the shrimp has no clue about it…

"Guardian or not," the Flame-rot trash says with a flash of resolve, "Poison Scorpion Bianchi is an opponent none of us can face alone. I don't see that Dino is really going to be able to reign her in - ah, no offense." He glances past Xanxus a bit anxiously and Xanxus snarls before he can help it. The trash scowls at him, but rather than personal offense: this is a look of someone facing a serious threat and not impressed by someone trying to sidetrack the strategy meeting.

The shrimpy one twitches vaguely and clues back in, glancing between the two of them. "Bianchi Isabella doesn't seem like a bad person," he says, frowning thoughtfully at Xanxus' shoe. "As long as we respect the rules of the house, and more importantly: her rules of etiquette - we can probably get along."

"Haa - 'getting along…' That's fine for someone with your-" the trash's vocabulary fails him for a moment, subbing in 'carisma' temporarily - which is a handy way of saying 'Sky Attraction' isn't it? - before settling on translating his meaning into: "everything. But I don't think normal people can get along with someone like her, so it's hopeless for us."

His 'everything,' is it? As disgusting as that is, it's almost worth having to hear it to for the skeptical expression it puts in the shrimpy bastard's face before he seems to take the rest under advisement. "I see," he says, suddenly turning a bit business-like, straightening up. "In that case, it's fine to leave Bianchi-san to me. I'll manage our business as far as that goes."

"You'll what?!"

That Poison Scorpion has to be interesting in order to get this kind of reaction out of that Flame-rot bastard, but that only makes the shrimpy bastard's reaction even more noticeably ludacris. What the fuck is a civilian like him promising against a trained hitman or assassin?

"I've already risen above the level of unwanted furniture to be burned for fun," that shrimpy bastard says, as if it's the most rational thing in the world, casting carnival mirror image of his a patient look. "It's obvious that I should be the one to handle our matters with her."

As informative as all this is - "Aren't you reaching past your means," Xanxus demands impatiently. "Just because you made some shitty agreement with a guy as soft in the head as he is the heart for giving in to a pair of puppy eyes doesn't mean you can handle someone that makes this scum react that way."

"What's a person who hasn't even met Bianchi-san saying?" he inquires mildly. "I think everyone is more or less dangerous if they feel threatened, in various ways… but I don't think she's the type that attacks indiscriminately - especially since she wants to be kind to Cavallone Dino's actual ward: Reborn-kun. Though, even if she understands the situation regarding the 'other worlds,' I think showing her the younger Dino, or yourself, will only make her irritated, so - after that, the only one would can do anything is me, right?"

Well, fuck. Regardless of his dumpy appearance and shadey behaviors and civilian status, this really is a Sky, after all. It's not even poorly reasoned - if this Nayo scum were a Famiglia Heir, the situation would be complicated due to tradition and protocol: there's no way an active Sky would be allowed to face a prospective ally or enemy's Guardians. But since he's some kind of loose end? It's working in their favor.

None of this logic seems to reach the rotting trash standing next to him, though. "Even if you reason it like that, someone like her is dangerous, Nayo," he complains anxiously, which fishes a distracted look of confusion out of Nayo.

"Wh-... why would you do that?" Gherardino asks fretfully, fitting the foreign syllables carefully through his mouth - well, he's young. No one should expect him to be too fluent in Japanese, yet. Cavallone does most of its business in Europe or with English speakers. "If she's dangerous…"

That shrimp seems troubled in general to be facing so much opposition, like he's accustomed to people going along with whatever he suggests. Welcome to the fucking Mafia, shrimp; they're not easily lead civilians. "Isn't it because she's dangerous that the situation has to be addressed?" he says fretfully, and aha: he's becoming concerned there's something he's not seeing, when it's just his faulty understanding of the food chain. "Avoiding something dangerous doesn't fix it, you know. It's still around to cause a problem later, so before the danger increases, we should take steps to mitigate it, don't you think? Regardless of whether I like it or not, I'm the best fit, so I'll deal with it. I'm not sure I could be expected to live with myself if I left the job to someone less suited."

"In what way are you the best fit?!"

It suits Xanxus for those two to be having a disagreement at the moment, regardless of how irritating the rotten trash's voice is. It's also a bit satisfying to discover that even that shrimpy idiot has his own limits despite allowing that filth to touch him. That rotten trash is so protected that he can't see the small expressions of frustration and annoyance that Nayo is making, and since the shrimp is even keeping his Sway to himself, it's not possible for him to notice it that way. At this rate, he'll drive the shrimp away without even realizing that he's at fault for it.

"Well, far be it from us to stop you if you're so eager to throw yourself into danger," he says darkly, bringing the commotion to a stop; the Flame-rot bastard tsks in a perfect snit, but the other looks a little relieved. "Do whatever you like."

"I will, but," the shrimpy brat says restlessly, dropping his gaze to the point that the 'cow' part is particularly obvious. Fucking eyelashes. "I'm really not the nice kind of person who does things out of the goodness of my heart." His mouth twitches into a thin parody of a smile. "Confusing the situation and distracting dangerous people is fine, but - I can't be expected to do all the work myself, you know?"

What the fuck kind of Vongola-position usurping - and of course that Flame-rot idiot is giving him some kind of horrifyingly cow-eyed gaze over it. No matter how dumb and self-defeating he is, he's mafia enough to appreciate the efforts of this fucktard civilian. If Xanxus was at full power, he probably would have blasted them out of here long before this, but he definitely would have at this point. Disgusting.

"So this is the influence that you intend to use in bargaining with us?" Xanxus observes flatly.

"Well," the shrimpy shithead says, and then the parody he put on earlier deepens pleasantly, brown eyes glimmering faintly at Xanxus from under his lashes. He's still exactly as sloppy looking as he was three seconds earlier, but the harsh edges of uncertainty have smoothed, slotting into place like the handle of a butterfly knife to give the blade support for slicing into flesh and ripping through something vital. "It's not like you're a nice person, either, right?"

Shit. What the fuck?

"Cavallone Dino is a good person, but he has his own household to think of which will come first," Nayo says reasonably, without grudge: of course and naturally his house comes first, that's just how it is. "And besides, he's an adult who is set in his ways already. That's why I think those of us who have been misplaced should rely mostly on each other. If we don't bind together, it would be a simple matter to separate us one by one and crush us utterly. Under the right leadership, even small fry can become something worth respecting."

Incredulous of what is being said and unsettled by the manner, the thought of holding back the harsh, jagged laugh that barks out never even crosses his mind. "And you think you're the right leadership? With everything you don't know?" Xanxus demands. "Don't fuck with me."

It's a simple knee-jerk response to blast them back through the door for an insult of this level, but the Will that manifests isn't his particularly hot Sky flames but the blistering Sway of a raging Storm. It immediately roils with his realization of it, becoming sharper and more devouring - a weapon, rather than a shield - something that destroys rather than unites.

Already that putrid trash has shoved the shrimpy Sky back, shielding him with his own body - and just his own body; one arm up to protect his eyes even as he grimaces and cringes, teeth bared as his skin reddens and cloth begins to fray, refusing to budge.

"Xanxus!" Gherardino squawks behind him.

"Fuck off!" he snaps, already having reined it in - too late to avoid doing harm, but quickly enough that the trash won't even blister over it. If his Flames weren't rotting, he would have been able to use then to protect himself, or even fix the damage. As it is?

The trash doesn't even touch his own wounds to take their measure as Xanxus swings to his feet, in no mood to be lounging around that way anymore - not half because of the completely unperturbed expression of that Sky the trash is shielding behind his own body, eyes hooded and not in the least shocked. Xanxus can't stop the twitch he makes when he hears Gherardino's feet land in the floor, baring his teeth at that rotten trash as his younger Sky moves to stand at his side.

"Are you alright?" Gherardino asks - in Italian, so it's clear who he's asking.

The trash doesn't look away from Xanxus, but he answers gently enough: "I'm fine." Then again, in Japanese for the sake of that Sky: "I'm fine."

"Thank goodness," that shrimp says dryly, also not looking away from Xanxus; from the corner of his eyes, Xanxus can see amber glittering in the dark brown. "Would you rather I put that kid beside you in charge? Xanxus of Vongola."

He almost wants to say 'yes' out of spite, since he's just magnificently made the point that he himself isn't capable of leadership - not because of what his Flames are now, but because they aren't something to carelessly fool around with anymore. But even with Xanxus backing him, or using him as a figurehead, putting Gherardino in charge will only expose him more to that rotten trash.

And unfortunately, Xanxus can see the sense of everything that Nayo has said. He's laid out his points clearly and without passion. It's not inspiring leadership, that's for damn sure - Xanxus can't even be relieved to fall under it since this uneducated-

Well. That's a thought.

"Gherardino," Xanxus says sharply, folding his arms across his chest and glowering at that rotten trash. Their faces are particularly annoying - round but fine-boned with that eastern slant to those dumb cow-lashed eyes. "What do you say."

"Me?" he squeaks. "You can't leave a decision like this to me!"

He can and he will. If Gherardino doesn't assert himself as quickly as possible, this Guardianship could easily become skewed. Xanxus doesn't have the natural instincts to submit that a true Guardian would have, and if he fucks this first bond up, Gherardino might never form another. Then it'll always just be Xanxus standing between the world and a then-crippled Sky, never having any support or backup. Gherardino will just have to keep making shitty decisions on everyone's behalf whether he likes it or not, and Xanxus will just have to make sure they survive long enough for the experience to teach him something.

At least some of this must be obvious to him since he wavers in the expectant silence. "I - I guess for now, it's okay," he says. "What kind of things did you want in return?"

Xanxus doesn't look away from that rotten trash, so he doesn't get the full effect of that shrimpy bastard easing up alongside the trash to smile at his Sky - but he sees enough to know a destructive weapon when he catches a glimpse of it.

Weakness, a part of him keeps trying to say. Hell, every Sky in Italia will act the same way - in the entire world, probably. This shrimpy brat will constantly be fighting wars over his twisted methods of coming at things sideways and never baring his fangs or his claws.

"It's not much," he says. "If you'll be willing to look out for the others a bit, and without putting yourself in danger, help them out - that would be enough."

That's more or less a full fledged binding alliance among the Mafia - and that rotten trash knows it, and grimaces unhappily, glowering at Xanxus. Well, fuck him, too: Xanxus doesn't want to watch his back either, but what choice is there? This is their best bet, and while Xanxus would prefer not to bind himself so tightly to a group that'll only last until they get sent back… if they don't get sent back at all, then they'll need the familiarity and history of this alliance to continue protecting themselves.

"And you'll do the same for us?" Gherardino presses. "Distracting Isabella will count as part of that?"

"I could hardly be said to looking out for you otherwise, right?"

'Civilian' his mother's ass, Xanxus thinks darkly while overseeing the whole thing. While that rotting trash keeps being loud and noisy and butting in and being completely useless, that asshole Sky of his wibbles his lip and bats his fucking coweyes and before he's even been awake for twelve fucking hours he's already formed an agreement with two separate families. Oh, technically they're the same person, but functionally their needs and resources are completely different - what they can pay into an alliance, and what they need out of it; and even though the agreement is going through Gherardino: Xanxus knows he's also a big part of it.

It's kind of fucked that he has to buy protection for that kid with his own skills and actions. Xanxus has always thought that he'd be putting together a team and having Vongola at his back until they were strong enough to stand on their own and return that investment. Being stranded without Vongola, and also in a tenuous situation like this-

Well, honestly speaking: Xanxus really isn't sure they can actually trust that shrimpy little shit. He's not Mafia, nor is he yakuza - but he's something, that's for damned sure. Regardless, Gherardino isn't going to be prepared to go against someone as two-faced as this for years - Xanxus might. He's good at sniffing out this kind of sneaky, backhanded bullshit even if he has no skill for it himself - but only on his own. He can't cover both himself and an otherwise unprotected young Sky.

It puts him in the worst fucking mood, but: Nayo's moods can be a whole lot more dangerous. He'd love to to hear what little shit thinks he got out of that agreement with Dino that was meant to pacify him. The older Gherardino said some bull about him not being level headed, but - he hadn't been at ground zero for that little meltdown, either.

That irresistible call to war had dragged Xanxus from the depths of awful memories - not the worst, most desperate ones, but living in the streets or in a brothel isn't great - and Xanxus had broken his way free from the pod, groggy and disoriented, with acid in his heart where once had only burned the hottest, most destructive Flames. He's forced to assume that that fucking trash involved hadn't seen the point of using Gherardino as their battery, since he's not especially strong compared to the other powerhouses they had - the kid had been woken up by the same thing Xanxus had.

By then, both the shrimp and his rotten trash had already left the room, but Xanxus? That's his father's fucking trademark. The control freak and made certain that his children all were well acquainted with it. Timoteo's iron willed control over his own Will - to the point of freezing a thing that burns - is plenty impressive, but if that shrimpy shit wasn't at least a little in control of his own temper tantrum… rather than a thin sheet of ice along the floor to the doorway, and the doorway itself being iced over: that entire room should have been filled with an uncontrolled burst of ice feet deep.

For someone as dangerous as that shrimp, trusting him is impossible; it's just Xanxus' typical shit luck that he's in such a weak position that he's forced to avoiding presenting himself as opposition for the sake of the person depending on him.

"Was that really the right thing to do?" Gherardino wonders anxiously after that shrimp bows out and drags his trash with him.

"Who the fuck can tell with someone like that," Xanxus says, flat and unhappy. "We'll find out one way or another."

He'd definitely reminded Xanxus of that CEDEF Head too much. Come to think of it - isn't that bastard a half-blood himself? He thinks he remembers those yakuza shitheads saying something about it and giving the Head shifty looks. It doesn't really matter with them all stranded in another world, but - it's something to think about.

For all that he's in another world, there are just enough similarities here that Xanxus feels all of nine and dragged off the streets and into the Vongola House all over again.

-0-


NOTES:

Dino: *sheds a tear* Xanxus is being so brave rn

Xanxus, elsewhere: what fucking ever, at least this shit will get me out of that fucking house

-0-

Zunetto: could you! stop! allying with everyone in sight?!

Nayo: I don't think you'd like my other choice

-0-

* Nayo keeps trying to make friends the Namimori way but it's not working :'(

* Realistically speaking, what options did Xanxus, a bastard in Italy and the mafia tending to be fairly religious themselves, really have? In a world where his brothers haven't been killed and becoming Decimo isn't something he seriously contemplated, what's happened isn't the worst thing ever. He's 15, and even if he doesn't think highly of Cavallone, he can fix it himself.

Regardless, I think Xanxus actually tends to be an incredibly keen judge of character. He has blind spots, but in order to become Vongola's Sword, known as Varia, which is more or less independent… he'd have to be at least on level with the CEDEF. While he doesn't have the Hyper Intuition that Primo's line is known for, on his own he's incredibly discerning, and while his ability to sense Flame isn't as good as Kyoya's, he's still uncommonly good at it.

* Nayo definitely pinged on Zunetto's Flame Rejection back at the facility. It's just that he has the kind of diamond-clad certainty of an absolute fucking lunatic, so the chances of Zunetto or Byakuran 'infecting' him are laughable. Or as Nayo would say, "I'm not sure what their resolve has to do with me"

* I really didn't expect so much 'stupid sexy flanders' from Xanxus, but in his defense, he's 15 and in a really fucked situation and fifteen. Nayo is a very powerful, apparently astute older boy who is offering protection and has a nice face, plus Xanxus is a lot more susceptible to Sky Attraction all of a sudden, despite being bonded.

In StormVerse, Bianchi would be about 8, so of course no one has heard of her yet. Squalo and Dino are both 13, so please entertain yourself with TinyBrat!Squalo pitching a fit. It's likely it'll be several years before Squalo resigns himself to being Dino's Guardian (if he ever does). Until then, he'll play Shioya to Xanxus' Naoko.

* Although both Dino and Canon!Tsuna reject their boss positions, I think Dino's reasons were probably a lot different than Tsuna's (and I don't think Tsuna's are really all that simple). In StormVerse, it's because it's fucking scary to be the first Sky of his line. In ChromaVerse, Dino does truly despise what the Mafia does. I wonder what the world where Dino actually likes the Mafia looks like.


And because this scene won't fit in anywhere, please enjoy it tacked on :V


"Stop fidgeting," Tsunayoshi sighs, focusing on where he's trying to apply the burn ointment that Zunetto found to his face. All of Zunetto's sputtering protests of being able to do it himself had been casually ignored; he lost that kind of right the moment he'd decided to try protecting Tsunayoshi with his own body.

And for what, really? Xanxus' strange witchcraft isn't nearly as bad as Ikumi's - it lacks the vitriol of her resolve, although apparently that doesn't have anything to do with the color of it. Ikumi's had always been strangely dark for all it's ferocious edge, and Xanxus' resolve is a few shades brighter and warmer. All it does is continue to remind him of Fon and that family member of his with his beautiful resolve. A dazzling shade like that was definitely something to take comfort in - for all that Tsunayoshi sheepishly remembers that he'd thought to face and kill him if necessary.

It's a good thing that family member had taken Kyoya's side against the Hibari clan, or otherwise Tsunayoshi wouldn't be allow himself to remember it so wistfully.

"It's weird," Zunetto complains, wringing his hands and looking fixedly at the ceiling even as he continues to shift uneasily on the edge of Tsunayoshi's bed - or at least the one he'll be using while here at Cavallone Dino's house. "I really can do it myself, you know?"

He's one to speak. Thanks to Tsunayoshi's own experiences with Ikumi, he can probably handle Xanxus' resolve just fine himself. Or apparently 'witchcraft' - but exploring that will have to come later.

"Well, I'm done with your face anyway," Tsunayoshi says. He hasn't covered up all the red skin, but considering that Zunetto has flushed in discomfort or embarrassment all the way up to his brows and ears which Tsunayoshi knows had been shielded, he's pretty sure he's managed regardless. He reaches down to take Zunetto's arm instead, even if it makes the guy jump. The threads around his collar had been a bit damaged, but the sleeve of his shirt - even rolled up a bit the way he had to keep his forearms clear - had been a bit closer to Xanxus. And even that bit closer had been enough that the fabric is more obviously damaged.

Zunetto fidgets under the scrutiny. Even without looking up at his face, Tsunayoshi can tell by his expression that he feels sick.

That has nothing to do with Tsunayoshi though. It's his own decisions that have put him in that tough spot, so he'll have to decide his way out. Zunetto is the one that decided being in the dark is better for Tsunayoshi, as if anything good has ever come of that, regardless of what Xanxus just did which is inexplicable by normal means - except, well, Tsunayoshi has seen it plenty before. It's never actually hurt anyone before, though, which Tsunayoshi finds himself a bit irritable about.

He wonders if Zunetto is misunderstanding some sign of that, but - well. That's neither here nor there.

Tsunayoshi dips his fingers into the ointment tub and begins applying it to the skin of Zunetto's forearm, which is in worse shape than the skin of his jaw and throat - the same as the fabric. Here, threads have come loose, as if something harsh had worn against it and cut them a bit. The skin itself isn't just reddened, but dry and cracked even if it's not bleeding or anything.

Ever since Haru decided to face the Disciplinary Committee with him as a kid, it's always been like this - people who recklessly throw themselves into danger alongside or for Tsunayoshi's sake and have no one preferable to care for them: it becomes Tsunayoshi's responsibility to see that they're bandaged up. Since it's just Tsunayoshi and Zunetto in this case, that much is obvious, right?

If he'd had any delusions of Zunetto being any happier to have his arm seen to or that his discomfort stemmed from having someone in his face, they're quickly disproven. Tsunayoshi ignores it in favor of the injuries, and the - hmm. Those are some interesting calluses on his hands, and the muscles and the way the tendons of his wrists stood out - he's seen them before.

Less on Takeshi. More on old man Yamamoto. Tsunayoshi had stuck with it only long enough to satisfy old man Yamamoto and never bothered developing the calluses himself.

"You know," he says, his fingers growing still, "we're a lot more alike than I thought."

"What?" Zunetto says, startled into looking up and actually meeting his gaze. He still leaves himself wide open. It's not exactly an odd habit on someone who is busy rejecting everything he's been forced to become, Tsunayoshi thinks: carelessly inviting the strike that will put an end to it.

It wouldn't even be hard: it's the kind of thing that could happen on accident. Someone must have been protecting him up until now.

"Xanxus and I, I mean," he says, letting go of Zunetto's arm and wiping his fingers off on a bit of gauze. Zunetto sputters incredulously. "Even if he hates it, he's capable of doing a lot of things for the sake of protecting the people at his side. I wonder if it'll drive him into a corner?"

Zunetto gives him something of a complicated look. "I don't know that I see that," he says grudgingly, as if he refuses to see it but is reluctant to correct anything Tsunayoshi has said. "You're one to talk though - you'll put yourself in a corner this way. What are you going to do if the elder Dino and the younger come to be at odds? Did you even consider that before trying to make an alliance?" Zunetto seems particularly aggrieved by this, his hands clenching anxiously and his entire brow furrowing.

"I didn't plan to," Tsunayoshi says reproachfully. "But Xanxus showed a bit of his true face, you know? I got curious." And he'd already more or less planned to interfere regarding Bianchi regardless. What else should he do when people cling to him? Ahh. It's a weakness of his.

Zunetto groans, something like despair as he slumps in on himself with a pitiful expression. "Please don't put yourself in a bad position just because you're curious," he says, skipping anger and denial for once and going straight to bargaining or possibly depression.

If it's never worked for Tsunayoshi, he's not going to allow it to work for Zunetto, frankly; though he reaches a hand out to pat him on the head. "There, there," he says tolerantly, a bit amused. He's no Takeshi, so he can't exactly soothe him, but he can do this much - and suddenly sees the appeal of it now: Tsunayoshi had never really given a lot of thought to the texture of his own hair, but it's a bit soft despite the rebellious cowlicks.

The weird way Zunetto stiffens under his hand, though - it's as if no one has shown him kindness in a long while. Ahh. Now really, what is Tsunayoshi supposed to do with someone dangerous who instinctively puts their body between Tsunayoshi and danger, who hasn't been given a kind word or patted on the head and told good job despite being protected?

He's a little irritated, to be honest. What has Zunetto done to not deserve being treated well, exactly? Please point out precisely what it was.

But there's not really anyone that Tsunayoshi can go to about this, since Zunetto is alone here from his world - he can't get to those people and demand to know exactly what they're thinking and for what reason it's been allowed to come to this. But… for someone who'll protect him without a second thought to their own health: he'll certainly do his best as long as he's allowed.


NOTES:

* Tsunayoshi is projecting hella hard on both children and Zunetto fyi. He's the literal definition of 'bottling up your emotions into a molotov cocktail.' Xanxus at least vents sometimes - Tsunayoshi just keeps finding more things to piss him off and repressing it until he can't lmao.

* the calluses... Takeshi has sword calluses which are different from the knife handle calluses his dad has from mostly running the shop and only picking up a sword to teach his kid. Tsunayoshi did some knifework study under Tsuyoshi because he was super pissed by Tsunayoshi's handling of them the one time a 'situation' arose.