(ix)
Atsuko was playing receptionist today.
She wasn't quite sure as to why she decided to help out with the family business today. She had caught her mother's eye at breakfast that morning, a rarity, and had been filled with the sudden urge to file paperwork and talk to people.
Idly, she wondered if it would be a good idea to go ahead and take a drug test later. That soda she had last night did seem rather questionable.
It was about eight in the morning - half an hour past opening time. Her parents were in their office, conversing with some company or another about something that she found it a bit hard to care for.
Perhaps this was Tsuna's fault. Tsuna is crazy.
Crazy is contagious.
After all, the fluff - somehow, some way - actually liked paperwork. Or so he said.
Atsuko wonders what exactly is in those bullets that Reborn shoots him with. Meth? Cocaine? Shrooms?
It started after Hibari made good on his decision to steal Tsuna away from the boxing club as a secretary. That had been an awful day. Atsuko doesn't like to remember it very much.
A day after the fateful meeting between Cloud and Sky, the object of Atsuko's worst nightmares (that was starting to be replaced by Reborn, but not quite) barged into the gym and demanded their Tsuna.
Atsuko had taken one look at Hibari in their doorway and wondered where the nearest bottle of sake was. Kamui nudged her with a grin and Rin winked. Atsuko wondered where the nearest gun was.
Mozumo innocently questioned if Hibari got the wrong manager. Atsuko wondered if her father's hunting gun had any ammo left. Kazu inconspicuously complemented Atsuko's legs, then gave Hibari a challenging stare.
Atsuko could practically hear the unsaid you gonna do something about this? and nearly shrunk under Hibari's returning look.
Ryohei had grinned, whispering something to the terrified fluff known to the world as Tsuna. Tsuna bit his lip in response, steeled his resolve and promptly walked over to Hibari's side, saying that he would be back later.
Atsuko had been relieved, up until the following meeting with Hibari, minus a sick Tsuna. Hibari had fixed her with an anxiety-inducing stare at the end (but now that she thought about it he did have some very nice eyes) and told her upfront that the school would not be paying for any mental health services that the boxing club may require.
Atsuko scoffed. "As if you're one to talk." Then she realized what she said. Unwillingly, her dark brown eyes were drawn to his silver, why are his eyes so pretty he can kill me what is this even, and he smirked.
Atsuko ran.
No, no. She wasn't thinking about his Highness right now. No, no, no. She did not need to have nightmares during her next nap.
What had she been thinking about again? Ah, yes. Tsuna.
Tsuna liked paperwork. "It's good," he had said. "Time consuming. You don't think about it, you just do it. It's better than homework," he had admitted.
Atsuko didn't even want to know what his Majesty was doing to her assistant during those biweekly visits.
Perhaps she should decrease her Tsuna-time? Maybe if she did then she'd get sprayed by that stupid spray bottle-thing that Ryohei came up with. Probably.
But Tsuna hugs…
Not worth it, Atsuko decides.
The door to the funeral home opens. Atsuko straightens up in her seat at the front desk, surprised to have such an early visitor.
"Hello," she says in as warm of a voice as she can muster, a contrast to her usual greetings of hey or yo. You can't really interact with a person who's grieving in the same way as a normal person, you see. Be too casual and it will feel as if what they're experiencing isn't even real. Be too cold and they feel insulted. Warmth is usually her best bet.
Morbidly, she wonders how people would interact with Ryohei if she died. Would it be the same way as they would speak to her parents? To the way people talked to her parents?
To her 'friends'?
The thought leaves a bitter aftertaste in her mind. She doesn't bother wondering why.
"Hello," she is greeted in return. The voice is soft and melodical, the ideal for a young Japanese girl, maybe a pitch or two higher than Kyoko's. Quiet, hesitant. The girl is alone.
The way she walks is contradictory, Atsuko thinks. Poised and elegant, but shy and taking up as little space as possible. Her purple eyes are wary, empty. It's as though she expects the world to give up on her, as though she cannot bring herself to truly live.
Grief is not dominant, though Atsuko can see a bit of it too. Reading people who come in here is Atsuko's favorite hobby while working - she should know how to recognize it by now.
No. There is something else there. Resignation… no, that's not quite right either.
Atsuko's eyes widen without her permission as it hits her. This girl is an abuse victim. Emotional, probably.
Or was that going too far? She looks as if she is in a world not worth living in, a world that is crushing her with every step. The girl in the recesses of Atsuko's mind stirs with recognition.
The girl looks away. "Um. I'm here to inquire about Fujiwara Tanishi?"
Atsuko nods, guessing the spelling as she checked the digital records. It wasn't an uncommon last name. "Fujiwara… yes, here."
Car crash, not an instant death. Severe damage to the head and abdomen… overall, quite a bit of work for the morticians to prepare for a viewing. Very expensive too, with these requirements… damn.
"The reconstruction is currently underway and is due to be completed in two days," Atsuko says bluntly. Best to get to the point… "It is advised that you bring clothing for the viewing within twenty four hours of the reconstruction."
Oh, right. She was supposed to ask about who the girl was first… she got a bit side-tracked. "May I ask as to what your relation to this man is?"
The girl blinked in surprise. "I… I'm Takeba Nagi," she says, as though she is reciting a name that is not hers. Atsuko feels a spark of recognition at the name, accompanied by… concern?
Why would Atsuko be concerned? Atsuko only cares for Ryohei, Kyoko, Tsuna, Gokudera, Rin, Kamui, Mozumo, Kazu, and Yusuke. No one else.
It doesn't make sense. Atsuko let a girl die without any guilt, and yet… this stranger.
"I am his daughter." This is said with more certainty. Their last names don't match…
However, the funeral expenses are being charged to a woman named Takeba Rika. The secondary contact is the woman's husband, Takeba Shindo.
In other words, this Takeba Nagi is an illegitimate child. Atsuko thinks that she can understand her a bit more now, with this in mind.
Why does she want to understand her, again?
Atsuko nods, tilting her head slightly. Smile, she thinks. You're supposed to smile. "Will that be all?"
"I would…" she pauses. Takeba looks into Atsuko's eyes, perhaps for the first time throughout their interaction. Atsuko wonders if she has a thing for eyes - she seems to have a tendency to get lost in the pretty ones. "I would like to know why you're faking a smile."
Atsuko's lips quirk into a smirk. "You're pretty sharp." Denying it would just be offensive and come on, no one's ever caught her fake smiles before, aside from Ryo. Because he's Ryo. Not a single mourner, not her parents, not even Kyoko.
"I - um," the girl says elegantly (how is that cute and elegant what the actual fuck) as a rosy blush colors her pale cheeks. "Thank you?"
"You're welcome," Atsuko says and wow, she's actually doing this 'human interaction' thing. She thought she hated human interaction unless it came with snuggles and food. "To answer your question, I decided that I wanted to be nice today. I'm not usually very nice."
"Ah," Takeba responds, tilting her head slightly, violet strands curtaining an equally violet eye. "But only a nice person can decide to be nice. Anyone else is fake."
The visage is scarily familiar, somehow, but she doesn't quite know how. Canon, Atsuko thinks. But who? It's been fifteen years - she can hardly even remember half the cast's names! "Then I must be fake."
Yes, she is fake. Atsuko knows she is. She is. She remembers what fake people were like in her first life - they were horrible people that lied, lied and lied. She lied to Ryohei.
Ryohei was going to get hurt and she couldn't even bring herself to warn him.
Ryohei will be hurt and damaged and oh god it's all my fault.
She is a bare imitation of a best friend. What kind of a best friend would do this? Or rather, not do anything at all?
She could try to do something, anything, but she is weak and would only serve as a flimsy shield at best, leaving Ryohei to get hurt the moment she is out cold.
Morishiba Atsuko is powerless.
She couldn't fight or do anything - she always relied on Ryohei for everything. Like a damned leech.
Maybe they would hurt her worse than him? Yes, that would be good. Not good, but better.
Perhaps - "No, you aren't."
Atsuko blinked, snapping out of her reverie. "Huh?" she said very intelligently. Sue her.
Takeba nodded. "There was pain in your eyes just now. Fake people don't hurt themselves like that." Her voice was hardly even a whisper, far off, as though she was lost in a world of memories. "They can't hurt what they love more than anything. Themselves."
"I'm not very easy to love," Atsuko says sardonically. "I don't know why anyone would, much less me."
"But someone loves you?" Takeba has such expressive eyes. Atsuko can read the girl like a book. Now, she knows, Takeba is hopeful. Yearning. Does she want to know what love is like?
"Love," Atsuko tastes the word on her lips. Ryohei loves her, she knows. Of all the things in this new life, that was never really a question. It had showed a lot over the years, like when Atsuko had an anxiety attack over gaining three pounds in a month in the fifth grade, when her memories were still fresh.
That, she recalls, is when she first learned that she is loved. When she was hugged and given all the innocently comforting words a fifth grader could provide and told that her weight could never make her any less of an extreme best friend - that she could weigh three hundred pounds and he would still love her like he loves Kyoko.
Or the time when she had her first crush, when they were thirteen. It was an innocent thing, a spark for a classmate that she didn't even think she was capable of. But alas, she is Atsuko and therefore incapable of hiding her feelings. The guy noticed, and she was rejected.
It's okay, Ryohei had said. You don't need a guy anyway, they're all extremely stupid!
But what does that make you? she sniffed.
Extremely stupid. But I guess you'll just have to deal with it, since I won't leave you. I'm your best friend.
I love you, Ryo.
I love you too, Atsu.
Yes, Atsuko is definitely loved.
"You can say that," she answers, finally. Takeba's eyes are wide with innocent wonder at this, as though she has never heard of such an anomaly.
"What is it like…? Being loved?" the girl asks, reverence coating the word like cotton around delicate glass.
A laugh escapes Atsuko's lips before she can stop it. "Someone's a busybody."
Takeba's face falls.
Atsuko feels like she just kicked a puppy. Suddenly she feels nervous - how does one describe love? "I. Um. Right. It's… warm? Very warm. And it's heavy - you always know it's there, the love. But it's not a bad kind of heavy? It's, it's like the weight of a thick blanket on your shoulders when you're a kid, y'know?"
"I don't," Takeba murmurs. "No… I did. For a day. Then he died."
"Oh," Atsuko says. What else can she say?
"Can I go see him?"
Atsuko sighs. "It's not going to be pretty. And the morticians won't be here til nine."
"I know."
Atsuko gets up, motioning for the girl to follow.
Chrome Dokuro, she decides, is a sad and lonely existence and Mukuro needs to get his sorry ass over here before Atsuko ends up platonically falling in love with another fluff.
In hindsight, finding herself and the rest of the boxing club at the Sawadas' dinner table was less than surprising.
Sawada Nana had been more than simply delighted to learn that her beloved Tsuna had made so many new friends and demanded that he invite them over for dinner.
"Thank you all so much for being there for my Tsu-kun," Nana said, an almost-blinding smile gracing them upon the matriarch's face. "I know he can be quite the handful!"
"Kaa-san!" Tsuna hissed in embarrassment, earning laughter from the rest of the group.
Atsuko had to admit, Ie-what's-his-face is one lucky of son of a bitch. Nana is downright modelesque in her beauty and her cheerful demeanor was enough to spread smiles to everyone around her.
Damn.
Don't get her wrong here, Atsuko's fairly certain that she prefers men, but she had to admit that she was a bit jealous of the bastard. To have a significant other that was this wonderful and for them to be loyal enough to stay with you even if you left them alone for years on end?
Lucky son of a bitch.
Hayato shook his head in a firm denial. "It's no trouble at all, Sawada-san! It's our pleasure!"
Nana giggled at Hayato's enthusiasm. "How many times do I have to tell you to call me Mama, Gokudera-kun? You're around here often enough that it's like you're one of mine already!"
Hayato blushed a particular shade of red that Atsuko likened to the color of his element.
"I couldn't, really," Hayato says humbly. The person sitting next to him, Kamui pats his head. "Cuteness overloads'll just make it worse for you~" he said sagely.
Everyone in the boxing club referred to each other on a first name - or nickname - basis. It was a simple unsaid rule that even Hayato had not been immune to the pull of.
It was a simplistic type of intimacy, but Atsuko couldn't help but enjoy it. In their culture, it was something special. Atsuko loved being a part of something special.
"Do you ever shut up?" Hayato complained. There wasn't any real heat in it.
Rin laughed whole-heartedly, wagging his eyebrows at the two. "If all else fails, try the duct tape. I hear it makes for a lovely experience at night."
"Rin!" chorused several shocked voices.
"We're at dinner! With my mother! And Reborn!"
"The hell is wrong with you, shortstack?!"
"So many things," Mozumo sighs. "Rabid shipper."
"Hey," Rin says, offended. "I am not short. I'm fun-sized. Also, you're one to talk, Mozu."
"I feel like everyone in this room is a rabid shipper," Kazu notes. "No offense Sawada-san, kiddo."
"None taken," Reborn responds from his seat at the head of the table. Of course he would be at the head of the table. "Shipping can be very entertaining. It is also an ancient and revered art practiced and perfected by the mafiosos of legend."
"Reborn!"
"Ooo," Yusuke chimes in. "I feel like a history lesson is coming on. History is love, history is life."
"You have boring kinks," Atsuko sniffs. Ryohei snorts. "Better than biting kinks." "Hey!"
"Oh my god," Tsuna says, looking at Kyoko for help. Kyoko merely smiles serenely and shushes him. "History time, Tsuna-kun. Shipping history time."
"Sorry dude," Mozumo says consolingly. "But let's be honest here, there would be literally no difference if the boxing club was converted into the shipping club."
"Yes there would," Hayato snorts. "Please. The budget would be much higher. We would need cameras, lots of cameras, printers for ship posters, disguises… ugh, the money…"
"Marry me," Kamui whispers reverently. "That, that dedication to the art… oh kami…"
"In your dreams, moron."
"That's an extremely painful rejection, octo-head," Ryohei notes. Atsuko nods empathetically. "Poor baby."
Kamui sniffles. Kazu sighs, putting an arm around their idiot of a friend. "There, there."
Nana smiles warmly at the group and Atsuko pretends that the woman doesn't look like she's about to cry tears of joy. "You have such interesting friends, Tsu-kun."
Tsuna sighs, shaking his head in exasperation with a fond smile. "Tell me about it."
BANG!
Everyone jumped, except Kyoko and Atsuko. They grew up with Ryohei.
"Now that I have your attention," Reborn began, clearing his throat. "I would like to share the secret history of shipping in the mafia, begun by the king of romance and violence - a man called Primo."
Atsuko leaned over to Ryohei, raising an eyebrow in silent question. First?
Ryohei shakes his head, a grin gracing his thin lips. It's the kid.
Reborn is a strange child. From what Ryohei knows, at least. Atsuko isn't going to think about that right now.
Atsuko nods, settling her head down on Ryohei's shoulder and watching her friends listen to Reborn's story with rapt attention.
It's nice, having a family like this.
A/N
Welcome aboard the Royal Train Wreck everyone, I do so hope you enjoy your ten to twenty chapter stay.
So. This could have been longer… but I felt like I needed to just get it out, y'know?
I'm sorry I haven't been updating, but honestly life has been very stressful for me as of late. Like, I cannot even begin to describe it.
So...yeah. Thank you guys for sticking with this story - all of your reviews mean the world to me. Seriously.
Also, if you guys ever want to message me to ask about any of my stories or hell, just to have a chat, my tumblr's erilencia (though it doesn't have much on it yet) and I'm on ao3 as erikaelencia. Please don't be shy!
Anyhow, the next chapter should come in a few days, promise!
Without further adieu, ciao!
P.S. OperaEagle IcelynLacelett, that comment about a one-shot was totally for you. As for when it'll be out...um… I don't quite have an answer for that yet… ^_^'
P.P.S. Someone mentioned shipping Hayato and Kamui. I support this. (That and I need my yaoi fix and I still have no idea as to whether or not Tsuna gets a pairing, soooo.)