Disclaimer: I do not own KHR. This story was made from appreciation for the original author and work.
Note: Creative interpretation of animal behavior (unlikely to be realistic with real version of said animal.) Fight scenes are hard. This chapter fought me every step of the way; not completely happy with it but here it is.
Warning: Expect explicit profanity. There will be Iemitsu-bashing and likely Vongola Ninth Bashing (or extreme dislike)

Chapter 4: Surprises everywhere

Her feet hurt. Why did She let Best Friend convince Her to be social? She pretended to gush at another guest's dress. Given how the other girl beamed, it must have been convincing. She took a sip of Her fruity juice and hid a grimace at the sugary taste. She half-heartedly considered abandoning the drink in favor of something else, but Mama would be absolutely furious if she found out She tried alcohol.

The blonde guy across the room kept sneaking looks at Her when he thought She wasn't looking. Quickly moving Her gaze before She could catch his eye, She wondered how much longer She needed to stay. Best Friend was busy exchanging cow eyes with his crush on the dance floor, and he had promised that She could leave if She still found the party boring after forty-five minutes..

"He's handsome," mused a voice behind Her.

She ignored the stranger as She took another sip of the sugar monstrosity. She was vaguely aware of Miss Squeaky Voice scurrying away like a spooked mouse.

"Rude," pouted the stranger. "If you don't talk to me, then I'll just call over your suitor."

Scowling behind the Jolly mask that Best Friend made her wear, She turned around to face the new annoyance.

It wasn't a fellow teenager like she expected; the stranger was a woman, possibly mid-twenties. Like many other guests, the woman was wearing a colorful columbina. Interestingly, her mask was decorated with real diamonds.

The woman sighed, the motion drawing attention to her generous bosom. The stranger's red painted lips curved up innocently as though she had no idea why a nearby boy choked on his wine.

She forced herself to hold still.

"You don't want to talk to him?" asked the stranger curiously.

She watched the woman silently.

The stranger continued, "He's the rumored rising star. As long as he continues his current path, he'll gain the favor of Don Vongola. The lucky woman who captures his heart will live the rest of her days needing nothing. I've even heard that he's a one-woman man. Protection, wealth, monogamous love; many would kill to be in his sights."

The implication was ridiculous. She gave a quick sweep of Her surroundings for an excuse to leave this woman; Best Friend was gone. So, was his crush. Great. For goodness sake, if She had to save him from an upset father again, then he owed her a lot of food.

She reluctantly turned back to the older woman.

Much to Her irritation, the stranger was looking at Her with amusement.

Dropping the polite smile, She spoke in a soft but firm voice so only the older girl could hear. "I am not a defenseless flower who needs someone to obtain protection, wealth, or whatever else you may think I need. I'd die before I tie myself down to someone who just wants a pretty face."

The stranger pointed out, "There's love to consider, or at least the potential for it."

She said bluntly, "I'd rather he stop staring at me and go bother someone else."

The stranger giggled. "Even now, his eyes keep coming back to you. Surely, that must count for something?"

She scowled. "We've never spoken a word to each other."

"And yet, you are unforgettable to him." The stranger gave an elegant shrug. "Perhaps, you shouldー"

She turned on Her heels and walked away. The burst of rich, throaty laughter behind Her only made Her walk faster. She hated it when Vongola held parties. People were always weirder than usual. Damn it, was the blonde guy moving closer?

Catching a glimpse of short, dark hair through the balcony windows, She swiftly changed directions and practically sprinted. If it was Best Friend, then he should be the meat shield he was supposed to be. If it wasn't Her friend, then hopefully the stranger would be willing to overlook her escape for some Euros.

After a quick glance at Her surroundings, She opened the doors just wide enough to squeeze through. The cold evening air had never brought Her such sweet relief. She relaxed in the open space. Perhaps, She could hide out here until it was time to go.

"Oi, who da fuck are ya?" barked the rough but high voice of a child.

Biting back a curse, She turned towards the voice and looked down. A boy with tan skin, black hair, and brown eyes scowled up at her.

She arched an eyebrow, and the child scowled harder. Although he was young enough that the absence of a mask could be excused, someone had obviously tried to dress the kid like the other children at the ball. Unfortunately, the suit was obviously the wrong size. How old was he? Where were his parents? His watcher?

Frustrated with the silence, the child raised his hand aggressively..

Impulsively, She grabbed a sleeve-covered arm and jerked him further away from the doors. Caught off-guard, the boy's concentration broke. Before he could speak, She lifted him up with both hands under his armpits. With little choice, She took cover behind a potted plant and lowered Her arms just enough to drop the aggressive child without him gaining any injuries.

The child leaped back from Her, but the back of his knees hit the stone bench. He tensed and glared fiercely at Her.

Irritated, She said. "You should be thanking me. I stopped you from doing something stupid."

Seeing the mulish look in the child's eyes, She forced herself to remain calm. He was just a stupid, bratty child. She tried again, "Do you know what today is? It's the first day of carnevale. We're in Venice, and it's a Vongola-hosted party. Can you connect the dots now?"

The boy's eyes intensified, but he stayed quiet.

She sighed. "Only a fool would activate their flames without a thought at the number of trigger happy minions and two-faced bosses around them. Are you trying to get in trouble, brat? There are much easier ways to get attention, you know."

"What did ya call me, ya old hag?" snarled the brat.

Her lips thinned. "Ignorance isn't an excuse. Not here. Even for a child. You're like what five? In some families, you'd be old enough to be punished like an adult."

The brat raised his chin defiantly.

She gave him a tight smile. "You don't trust me."

His face twisted, but he didn't start yelling or running.

More tired than amused now, She spoke bluntly. "Brat, it's more than obvious that you're new to this. Your clothes are the wrong size, you speak like an urchin, and you're way too young to be hiding out on the balcony by yourself. I don't blame you for being prepared against strangers, but don't be stupid. Don't do something out of spite. Do it because you know what you are doing, and you accept the consequences."

"Flames are valuable," She stressed out the last word, but the brat wasn't daunted. "Everyone wants them, especially young active users like you. It's clear you impressed someone enough to get invited here, but the moment someone catches you with active flames, then shit will hit the fan." She paused before mentally shrugging. She doubted swear words were the worst thing that would ever happen to the child.

"How do I know ya ain't trying to trick me?" demanded the boy. "Ya keep saying 'don't do this' but I think ya' just want my guard down."

She raised an eyebrow. "And do what exactly?"

The boy ignored her and growled. "Who the hell are ya to tell me what to do?"

She opened Her mouth, but the doors suddenly opened. Quickly, She moved closer to the potted plant and crouched down. Ignoring the brat, She reached into Her pocket and felt reassured as Her fingers touched cold metal. Tossing a glance behind Her shoulder, She met sharp, brown eyes. At least, he was quiet.

She tensed as footsteps drew near them. At least two people were approaching. She slowly breathed in and out as She held onto Her control with an iron grip. Fortunately, the strangers were more interested in the view. They stopped near the railing, clearly dismissing the potted plant.

The person wearing the unusually plain black mask took out a cigarette pack. His companion with the large, feathered mask lit up the cigarettes with a small red-colored flame emitting from a finger. She chewed on her bottom lip; the effortless control of the flame indicated that those weren't newbies. It would be just her luck, if they were both Vongola allies and experienced flame users.

For a while, the two kept smoking. She glanced back at the child and felt slightly impressed by his focus. The child was more patient than she thought.

Finally, Mr. Feathers spoke. "He's young."

"The kid?" asked Mr. Black Mask.

"Yeah. Think the rumors are true?"

Mr. Black Mask replied. "I always knew the old man had some vice. Every Don has one.. At least, it's not the bottle."

Mr. Feathers took a drag from his cigarette. "Didn't his wife die a couple years ago? Thought they were a love match or something. I mean, she gave him three lads and all. A couple girls too, now that I think about it."

Mr. Black Mask grunted. "The kid's mum must've been great in the sack. It takes talent to get an old man's dick up and ready. Well, talent or practice. Hell, maybe both."

Mr. Feathers snorted.

She subtly shifted; Her feet were killing Her. Glancing back, She did a silent double-take at the expression on the brat's face. He was clenching his jaw so hard, She was vaguely afraid that he'd break his baby teeth.

Mr. Black Mask started talking again. "I suppose Vongola's pleased they have another spare."

Mr. Feathers gave a short laugh. "You're kidding, right? Don't tell me you believe in that flame bullshit. Come on; the kid's a bastard."

"So?" countered Mr. Black Mask. "Flames follow blood. The current Don is a Sky who popped out at least two confirmed Sky-type boys. You have to admit that's not a coincidence."

Mr. Feathers scoffed. "He's still a bastard. You know the importance of legitimacy."

Mr. Black Mask shrugged. "The old guard will probably change their mind if they see the kid use his flames. They might like legitimacy, but a bunch of them like power and prestige even more. Come on, you heard the same rumors as me. For a lot of them, there's nothing more tempting than rare flames."

"If the rumors are true, then the kid's not just a bastard– he's a pitiable one," commented Mr. Feathers. He put out his cigarette and used his free fingers to list the kid's disadvantages. "Let's see what we have here: a whore for a mum, three older legitimate brothers, no guardians, and no allies. He'll be dodging kiss-ups and assassins left and right, even before his balls drop. If he manages to grow up, then he'll be facing the heavy hitters. Unless he gives up his claim and disappears from Italy, there's no way the kid will be left alone."

"You're such a pessimistic drunk." Mr. Black Mask's tone dripped in disapproval. "You're leaving out the other possibility: the child grows up strong enough to be the Tenth."

Mr. Feathers paused; his new cigarette hanging mid-air.

Mr. Black Mask burst out laughing.

It took a moment for Mr. Feathers to catch up, but soon enough She was witness to two grown men laughing in delight at the possibility of a child's failure. They were still chuckling as they prepared to rejoin the other adults.

She glanced back at the brat.

He didn't look frightened or furious like She half-expected. In fact, his face was making a strange expression. Curious, She turned around to face the brat.

The moment he raised his eyes, She couldn't stop herself from grinning. Impulsively, She removed her mask and ruffled his hair.

"What the fuck?" grumbled the brat as he swatted Her hands away.

Her smile widened. "You're not crying or tattling." Without waiting for him to respond, She giggled. "You don't even realize it, do you? Brat, your eyes are burning with resolve."

He blinked, and his face scrunched up in confusion.

"You're a fighter," She continued happily. "You have a spine. When someone looks down on you, I bet you're the type to strike back and make them regret even meeting you. But I don't see madness or narrow-minded violence. No, no, you care. Don't think I forgot how you looked when they talked shit about your mother. Oh don't look at me like that, I'm not stupid. Anyway, I don't blame you. If anyone talked like that about my own mom, then I'd ruin them."

The brat took a step back. He glared at his feet as though he hadn't meant to and deliberately took two steps closer.

Her smile widened as an idea emerged. "I'll be your mafia tutor."

"I don't need ya help, hag." The brat bared his teeth at Her.

She reached into Her pocket and pulled out Her favorite keychain. Her fingers went through the openings easily. She could see the brat's eyes light up with curiosity as he figured out what She was holding.

She held up Her other hand and pressed a finger to Her lips. With a wink, She let Her control relax. A steady amount of flames flowed around the brass knuckles until the knuckles emitted a faintly purple glow.

She smiled. "Still don't want my help?"

For the first time, the brat smiled back. It was a mean, bloodthirsty thing.

She held out a hand.

The child took it. She felt affection uncurl within Her heart as warmth spread from their clasped hands. Judging by the child's small smile, he felt it too. A comfortable silence fell between them as they sat on the stone bench. She gently coaxed him out of his aggressive turtle shell. He was a prideful little brat, but She saw potential. When She returned home, She couldn't wait to tell Best Friend and Papa and Mama. She finally found–

"Excuse me, miss. I heard heaven's lost an angel, and I think I found her."

.

.

.

Sawada House, Namimori

It was supposed to be simple. They get in, look around,find nothing irregular, and get out. Lussuria would lose interest and pay them anyway. Bel would go back to sneaking out for sushi, and Squalo would reign in Levi as he tried to find Xanxus' Cloud. So, why weren't things proceeding as planned?

Mammon looked hard at their animal partner. As a yellow and white snake, Fantasma was hissing loudly at the open cabinet. His eyes were distinctly hostile. Mammon followed their familiar's gaze and spotted the bottle with orange pills.

Mammon silently took in Fantasma's form and the target of his death stare. The moment Mammon had opened the cabinet, Fantasma had released his tail and let Mammon fall. Despite their startlement, they were able to land on the vanity without a problem. Mammon had fully intended on demanding answers from Fantasma. However, the animal had swiftly moved in front of them as though he was trying to protect his partner. If Mammon tried to move around him, then the snake would twist around and butt his head against their body until they stopped moving.

Fantasma's behavior was frankly disturbing. In all their years together, Fantasma had only deviated from normal snake/frog behavior in situations where Mammon was vulnerable to threats that could severely damage their psyche. With Reborn gone, there wasn't supposed to be anything in the house that could harm them.

Fantasma hissed harshly.

"I see it." Mammon gently lifted Fantasma into their arms. "Mu, calm down. I won't touch it."

Fantasma's tongue flickered in the air.

"I won't touch it," repeated Mammon. They frowned. "We still need to study it."

Fantasma's tail flickered.

"Oh, so you agree that we can't leave it here. But you won't let me get close to it. I suppose I should get Bel and– Oh. So, Bel can touch the bottle but not me?"

Fantasma reverted into his frog form in reply and hopped onto their head.

Mammon frowned. Why was Bel allowed to touch the bottle? Did Bel's Storm flames protect him? Perhaps, the disintegration aspect? But, Fantasma understood that they needed to study it. Mammon's eyes narrowed at the plain bottle. They initially thought it was a trick of light, but something was strange. At a first glance, the pills looked like normal orange-colored tablets. Upon closer examination, the color actually reminded them of Sky flames...

Mammon spat out a string of obscenities with rage they had not felt since the day they were cursed.

"Ushishishishi, Mammy's mad," sang Bel. The teenager was leaning against the bedroom door frame as he tossed a knife up and down.

Bloodthirsty brat, thought Mammon irritated and tensed. Fantasma transformed, and they floated over to Bel.

"What's wrong?" snickered Bel.

Mammon wasn't amused. "Get the bottle with the orange-pills. Be careful handling it; if it's what I think it is, then it can really fuck someone up. No games, Bel. We need to bring it in whole and have it analyzed."

Bel raised both eyebrows but obediently followed Mammon's orders. As he deposited the bottle into a spare bag, Bel picked up Mammon who was irritated and puzzled enough at the pills' existence that he merely huffed at Bel.

Absently humming, Bel left the bedroom and closed the door.

The front door opened.

Mammon casted an illusion over themselves, blending into the background. Mammon pinched Bel's wrist and pointed. Together, they crept closer to the stairs. Seeing the back of a woman with short brown hair, they relaxed. It wasn't Reborn or Tsunayoshi. It was going to be easy to escape from a civilian woman.

xXxXx

After so many years, everything seemed so bright and noticeable. There was so much to see, to absorb. It was almost overwhelming.

She hated it.

She slammed the door shut, dropped her bag of books, and crouched down to grab a new pair of slippers. She plopped down and changed shoes. Satisfied by the material's softness, She stood up and turned.

She smiled straight at the intruders. Her smile widened as she sensed the flame-illusion hold strong. The Mist was strong. Good; it was more fun that way. She reached into her pockets and grabbed her house keys. It wasn't her preferred weapon of choice, but she'd make do with what she had in the little time she had left. She didn't recognize their flames, but the sky flames that intermingled with their primaries like a haunty cat seemed familiar. She needed to know more.

xXxXx

Impossible. They were the strongest Mist; how could a mere civilian see through their illusions? Mammon's eyes narrowed as the woman pulled out her keys. Given the petite frame and brown bob, the woman should be Nana Sawada. But Nana Sawada didn't have eyes that flashed purple. Nana Sawada wasn't supposed to be an active flame user.

Nana Sawada shouldn't be able to fight back against two Varia guardians.

Before Bel could play distraction, the stranger wearing the Sawada matriarch's face ran up the stairs. She nearly slashed Bel's eyes with a set of house keys encompassed with purple flames so dark that lesser mafiosos would have assumed them to be those of the Vindice.

Bel instinctively leaped back, and the keys grazed his hair. If they were any sharper, Bel would have been cut badly. Mammon dropped the camouflage illusion and summoned menacing snakes that hissed and slithered towards the woman. The woman grinned as she funneled more flames around the keys until they enlarged into makeshift key-shaped swords. With a smooth pull, she soon had a key in each hand. She set to work slicing away snakes and dodging knives with the grace of a dancer and the brutality of a bulldozer.

Backing away, Bel muttered, "I knew key blades could exist as effective murder weapons; Noisy owes me €100."

As they floated Mammon deadpanned, "You still owe me for the sushi brat."

Bel made a rude gesture with one hand as he quickly sent another knife at the woman who paid no mind to the blood staining her keys.

Trusting Bel to watch their back, Mammon looked around for an escape route.

"You should be more careful," purred a feminine voice right next to Mammon's ear. "Talk too much, and you'll miss my next trick."

Cackling, the woman spinned away from the wooden spikes that protruded from where she stood. She thrust up with the key in her right hand and swatted Mammon like they were a tennis ball. Mammon hissed at the unexpected power behind the swing. They floated farther away, shifting to a support position. The woman was annoyingly persistent; she easily avoided the knives, and the snakes were ineffective. While not their strongest, Mammon and Bel's actions weren't their weakest moves either.

The woman tossed Mammon a wink before focusing on Bel. She swung the key in her left hand; the edges caught Bel's ankle. The teenager grunted but caught the fall with his hands. Swiftly, Bel kicked up as he flipped. The woman held tight to the key, despite Bel's attempt to dislodge the weapon from her hands.

Bel bared his teeth. "Hitting children are we?"

"Their flames are too strong to be a regular baby," laughed the woman. "Besides, you two broke into my house! As far as I'm concerned, you two don't get to leave without answering my questions."

As soon as the woman finished speaking, She lunged at Bel. Bel narrowed his eyes as he used a knife to parry the key. The woman swung her other key, and Bel soon found himself engaged. Mammon crafted illusions to disorient the woman, but nothing seemed to work. Illusions targeting her senses seemed to do nothing, much to their frustration. Like Bel, they didn't dare bring out any of their stronger techniques. The woman was irritating, but she wasn't Reborn-level chaos.

Or, so they thought.

"Ready for my trick?" asked the woman gleefully.

Without waiting for a response, she abruptly shrunk the keys. Before Bel could strike first, she flung her hands out and grabbed his wrist. She twisted the blade free from his hand and pushed him against the wall with her other hand on his throat. Pressing the blade close to his face, the woman took a quick look and beamed at the sight of her enlarged keys pinning the floating not-baby intruder to the wooden floor.

Turning back to the teenager, the woman grinned. "Sorry, not sorry. There's a lot of things I need to do and not a lot of time left. I'm sure you understand. And I don't really care if you don't."

Without turning around, the woman said. "And if not-baby moves, then I'll cut the boy's neck. At this distance, my hand might slip and hit something important."

Mammon frowned as their mind raced, determined to find another solution. But before they could speak – to distract or negotiate – the woman headbut Bel. Bel slumped unconscious, and the woman turned her attention to Mammon. With one of Bel's knives still in hand, the woman smiled kindly. The blood on her face made it even more unsettling.

"Let's start over," said the woman sweetly. "Hi, I'm Nana. And you are?"

A's Café: Bar, Coffee, and Delights; Namimori

"Something's wrong," muttered Squalo. He ignored Lussuria's attempts to flirt with the manager. Despite his ridiculous name, Squalo thought the manager seemed alright. Not many people would be willing to put up with Lussuria's antics, and even fewer would be capable of turning him down calmly.

Finally looking away from the manager who was calling himself 'Ace' today, Lussuria added a sugar cube to his coffee. "It hasn't been that long. Don't be a worry-wart, Squ-chan."

"It's a simple task," retorted Squalo. "They look around and leave. They shouldn't be taking so long, damn it!"

Lussuria patted Squalo's prosthetic hand. "There, there. I'm sure things will turn out alright. Mammon will watch over Bel, and Bel will keep Mammon on their toes. Now, how about some food? You haven't touched anything but water since breakfast."

Squalo grunted but took the menu. Without looking up, he kicked Lussuria's shin.

"Ow!"

"Stop staring at his ass," said Squalo as he read the drink options. "You've been doing it every time he turns around."

"But he's so cute," argued Lussuria in a faux-whisper. Catching sight of the manager's ears turning pink, Lussuria grinned victoriously. "He looks much older than he really is. Waiter with the blue hair told me the manager's actually thirty-something. That's only a five year difference, Squ-chan!"

Squalo rolled his eyes behind the menu. "And what did you give the waiter? Another ¥5000?"

"For love!"

"Lust," countered Squalo. He put down the menu and stole Lussuria's bagel. Ignoring his friend's dramatics, Squalo munched on the bagel and took out his phone.

Lussuria rolled their eyes. "I was going to finish that."

Spitefully, Squalo finished off the bagel. He promptly ignored Lussuria as he checked his messages: Xanxus was finally fucking eating, Levi was theatening the chef, the grunts at HQ were handling things, and still nothing from Mammon or Bel. Squalo gritted his teeth. Mind made up, he slammed down a random set of bills and stood up.

"Come on, we're leaving." Squalo scowled at his phone. "If those two think they can slack off, I'll fucking murder them!"

Lussuria pouted but stood up. Of course that's when Squalo's phone began to ring.

"Finally," hissed Squalo. He held the phone to his ear. "What the fuck is taking so long?"

An unfamiliar feminine voice answered back.

Lussuria raised an eyebrow. He patted Squalo's shoulder and gestured at him to sit down. They were drawing enough suspicion standing up and yelling. Squalo clenched his jaw but slowly sat back down. Lussuria hastily handed the money over to the blue haired waiter.

"We'll leave as soon as the call is done," assured Lussuria. The waiter looked skeptical, but he left after Lussuria handed him another ¥5000. Seeing a curious manager, Lussuria blew him a kiss. The manager abruptly focused on the sweets display, but Lussuria saw his ears flush.

Adorable, thought Lussuria. He found it completely curious how 'Ace' seemed to act completely different from 'A.' He was fairly certain they weren't twins or clones. But, Lussuria reasoned, he could bribe Mammon for answers later. Lussuria returned his attention to Squalo.

To Lussuria's surprise, he wasn't starting a screaming match. Squalo was actually listening to the speaker. Squalo's eye occasionally twitched dangerously, but he appeared calm. Clearly, something was wrong.

Lussuria caught Squalo's eye and raised his eyebrows. Squalo scowled but put the phone on speaker.

"‒completely shocked me. You should keep a closer eye on your children. I found them just wandering around; who knows what could have happened if I hadn't intervened. Well what's done is done, let's move on. The children are at Namimori Shrine." The voice giggled. "I think you should hurry. The children are starting to pout. Oh, but don't worry. I'll keep them company so they don't get lonely."

The call ended.

Finally, Lussuria spoke. "They got captured."

Squalo nodded sharply.

"Well. Fuck."

Squalo started typing on his phone.

The lack of yelling was starting to disturb Lussuria. He tentatively nudged Squalo's foot.

It was instincts that saved Lussuria's hand. He gave Squalo the evil eye. The jerk nearly stabbed him with a fork.

The second-in-command bared his teeth. "I'll show that fucker why you don't fuck with my team. VOI! WHO KNOWS HOW TO GET TO THE SHRINE?!"

"...¥50,000 Yen, and I'll even drive you."