Chapter 2: Wariness

"He looks like a thug!" Shiori hissed once their new tenant was shown his room and invited for dinner. "Just- just look at those piercings and rings." She sniffed the air once, twice. "And is that the smell of cigarettes?"

A hot thug, but still a thug.

The look her mother gave in return was quite scathing. "He is just a poor, misguided boy," Shizuka said, not easing on the glare. "And weren't you the one who always say to not judge people by their appearance?"

Shiori grimaced at that. Her mother placed a hand on her shoulders, gently rubbing it. "That boy has been through a lot. Give him a chance please?" She opened her mouth to speak, but the soft expression on the older woman's face stopped her. "I know you hate to give away Akane's room to a complete stranger, ("That's not it," she protested.) but it will be all right in the end."

She sighed and continued peeling the potatoes, drooping the matter.

For now.

If there was a live example of textbook definition of politeness, Gokudera Hayato would be that. He smiled when he was supposed to smile, agreed at the right places and his manners were impeccable. Toshiro's shoulders relaxed slightly, draining it of the tension he wasn't aware of having. Shiori was setting the table as he explained how he is originally from Japan and had transferred to Italy after his parents' death.

He caught her glancing at his hair and said, "My mother was Italian."

"I'm so sorry about your loss," steered the conversation smoothly. "What happened, if you don't mind me asking?"

The silver haired boy shook his head. "No, it's- I can't- I mean, I can talk about it now. It was a car accident, they were returning from a business trip."

"You don't have any immediate family?" Shiori asked hesitantly. She couldn't imagine losing both her father and mother in one fell swoop. She felt a bit bad about her previous behaviour.

He glanced at her before turning his gaze to his plate as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. "I had an aunt. She died a few years ago." He said, before noting the concerned look on their face. He shrugged, "She died of illness. We weren't that close anyway."

"Oh, now stop bothering the boy, you two," Shizuka scolded, placing down the serving bowls one by one. Exchanging a deadpan look with her father, Shiori replied as she went to help, "Relax mom, we were just getting to know him. We weren't bothering you, we're we?"

He gave them a small smile.

Dinner was uneventful with small talks being mostly regarding what Italy was like and how different he was finding it in Japan. It was nice hearing about him talk animatedly about his country and schooling and Shiori thought, maybe, maybe having a house guest wouldn't be so bad after all. Already, that despondent look in his eyes had lessened somewhat.

And when her father told him to come to them for any kind of help if he required it, she could've sworn that his suave smile became the teensiest bit wobbly.

Boys, she thought, rolling her eyes.

That was two days ago. It was Wednesday already-

"What's the dreamy face for, Shi-chan?"

An annoyingly cheerful and familiar voice broke her out of her reveries, Asahina Miu, the resident pretty girl and class clown popping up in front of her. She received a scandalized look in return.

"I don't do dreamy look." She deadpanned.

Miu pouted. "Oh, come on! You totally had that look." Her face took on a thoughtful expression. "Were you thinking of food?".

Shiori rolled her eyes. "I do not think of food all the time." At the raised eyebrow, she amended, "Not always."

She hadn't even noticed when the teacher had left the classroom and recess had started. Putting her pen and book away, she took out her lunchbox, and waved a sandwich in front of the exuberant girl's face, grinning at her cross-eyed expression. "I just have a lot in my mind", she admitted. Miu made an unintelligible noise at that, her mouth full already having chomped on the offered food. Shiori bit her lip before continuing, "Mom rented out Aka-nee's room."

Her friend stared. Continued staring. And then stared some more.

"To tourists?" She asked.

She received a grimace in return. "He is a student actually." She paused before adding, "A middle school student."

The staring didn't stop.

"He is from Italy." She offered.

"Let me get this straight." Miu ticked off her fingers, "Your mom rented out your house. To a middle school student. From Italy. Who is staying at a foreign country without parental supervision?" Shiori nodded at her questioning look. The other girl tilted her head,"I got everything, right?"

Shiori sighed. "His parents died in a car accident."

"Why has he come to Japan all the way from Italy?"

"He is half-Japanese." She said, snatching the last piece from her gluttonous friend. Truly, birds of the same feather flock together. "He is originally from Japan."

"Uh-huh", Miu said dubiously, before finishing her sandwich. Then placing her hands over her shoulder, she leant down and looked into her eyes, expression serious, all signs of mirth gone. "I'm sorry to say this, but you are going to die."

"Hey!" came the indignant shout.

"Who is gonna die?"

Both of them turned to look at the source of the voice. Ito Asahi cocked his head and stared at them.

Immediately, Miu let go of her friend to latch on to him. "This is a grave situation, Asahi-kun." She began her dramatized and quite unneeded explanation, "Shi-chan has rented their house to a juvenile murderer and is going to die next."

The volleyball club's spiker turned to her, eyes wide. "Pipsqueak, what happened? What did you do now? Did your mom piss off the mafia or something?"

"Hilarious," she said flatly, her thinned lips not finding the hilarity of the situation. She glared at the annoying noirette, whose exclamation had drawn the attention of the rest of the students. "And stop calling me that!" She added belatedly, fixing her glare on the not-sheepish looking volley player.

By the time everything had been explained (No, she was not hosting a murderer; yes he was cute; no, dying in the hands of a cute person was in NO way a good enough death and no, she or her mother definitely did not piss off any gang members, she was completely sane, thank you very much.), the recess was almost over. That didn't stop her classmates from throwing out their advice though.

She smiled and assured them that she was no way in any danger (despite her misgivings) and she would definitely ask for their help if anything was amiss.

She wanted to believe her own words, but a chill ran down her spine as she recalled the meeting last night.

"I'm more worried about the suited baby," she muttered under her breath as the bell rang. "And I can't believe that actually made sense."

Author's note: OK, does he seem OOC? If he does, I have an explanation ready if anyone is interested.

Thanks for the follows and favourites, and to the wonderful Stop'nGo girl for reviewing.

And I'm using the Japanese convention of names.

There is an omake of her meeting Reborn, I'll add it later.

Unbetaed: 18/03/2018