They plan over the next two days, sorting out the method of attack and then the getaway until its perfect with seven other contingencies. Suddenly loud, half crazed laughter comes from the backyard.

"Yes!" the sky user roars. "Not a drop of Vongola blood in me and look what I can do, arrogant Vongola garbage!"

The four of them pause in their conversation to let the moment pass, kind of like stopping when a loud aeroplane passes overhead.

"Who's special?" the sky aunt crows. "Not you plebeians, that's who! Nepotism at its finest, oh great and all powerful clam!" Ice crystals start forming on the windows and small flakes of snow start falling outside.

There's a pause.

"So what do you guys want for dinner-" the uncle begins but gets cut off.

"Let it go, let it goooo!" the sky flame aunt sings with a snarl to her voice as outside, the ice flakes grow larger and more numerous, rotating around the house and forming quickly into a snow storm with blizzard level winds. "Imma make you kneel so loooo-ooo-oooow."

"Venison," the cousin comments. "I feel like eating that."

The windows grows increasingly harder to see through as they frost over and the ice grows thicker. The snow clumps and shapes into shards which slice through the surroundings mercilessly, only the house left untouched while the trees and fence are slashed to ribbons.

"Yeah," the mist flame aunt agrees. "I haven't had venison in a while."


Xanxus wakes slowly to the sound of pages beings flipped at even intervals. He feels warm, and comfortable. He keeps his eyes closed and tries to guess how the sequence of events played out after he was frozen.

His Varia probably pulled back and retreated, just like he ordered, but surely the ninth wouldn't let them take Xanxus back? The old man can play the grandfather role but he's about as harmless as a hydrogen bomb. He would have kept Xanxus unconscious for as long as Timoteo's grudge lasted – which is going to be a long time after almost being killed.

So being tucked under blankets in a peacefully quiet room is not something Xanxus would have ever predicted. Maybe his Varia got him out, but even then they would be loud and hovering around him. Perhaps it's truly been a long time and Xanxus is just clinging to a delusional hope.

His body doesn't hurt - doesn't feel weak. The last thing he remembers is the cold and the pain of ice digging into his flesh to forcibly stop his movements. The first place it hit was lungs and he was suffocating the whole time as the old man lectured him in a disappointed voice.

He tenses inwardly when the page flip doesn't come for a while. Maybe it's a particularly interesting page to read, but Xanxus doubts it.

"When will you stop pretending?" The voice is relatively high, male, with honest curiosity. A child then, but not like Mammon.

Xanxus opens his eyes and immediately sits up. It's a plain bedroom, with minimal furniture and the only one inside is a little boy. He has Asian features and he's reading a novel as he sits on a chair beside the wall, far enough that he was out of Xanxus' arm's length and therefore out of immediate danger.

"Where am I?" Xanxus asks.

The door is wide open, maybe so the kid can run or maybe something else entirely. It seems like Xanxus isn't being kept prisoner.

"In Japan, Namimori," the boy replies. "You spent five months with the Vongola, and you've been here for four days."

For a brief moment all Xanxus can think about is that he's seventeen now instead of something like seventy. Why was he freed so early and who got him out? "Who else is here?" he finally manages. "Which famiglia is this?"

"Not famiglia, family," the boy corrects. "I am the only one here at this point in time. Your Varia will be visiting shortly."

"Who are you, then?" Xanxus demands. "Who's your family?"

"One of yours contacted me, holding information of your relationship with Vongola Secondo," Kyouya explains. "I apologise for not finding you earlier."

"Who do you belong to?" Xanxus barks out, irritated at his questions being ignored.

"My name is Hibari Kyouya," the boy responds. "It's good to finally meet you, cousin."


"It took six hours to convince him," Kyouya complains, sprawled over the outdoor lounge chair in the backyard of Kawahira's house. "Then his herbivores arrived. I didn't think it was possible to be as loud as they are, and they weren't even trying."

Kawahira smiles at the exasperated complaints and scoops up another handful or soil with his gloved hand, lazily filling the hole around the newly planted rose bush.

"And he keeps finding me, or his herbivores will pick me up and move me to him," Kyouya continues, watching the kneeling man's profile through darkly tinted sunglasses. "Then we'll just sit there without speaking for an hour before the sword wielder unlocks the door."

Kawahira chokes on a snicker and hums sympathetically.

"It's my house," Kyouya grumbles, closing his eyes and turning to face the sun. "I don't know what he's still doing here. He wants his body double to stay frozen in the Vongola, he doesn't want assistance with revenge or anything, he's just crowding."

"Maybe he wants to know about you?" Kawahira tries, managing to keep his voice even. He stands easily and makes his way to the hose, stripping off the gloves and dropping them by the chair when he passes Kyouya.

"Why would he want that?" Kyouya sighs.

"Because you're family, aren't you?" Kawahira says, unwinding the hose coils and turning the tap on. "Most families are close."

"I haven't seen my parents since I moved out when I was five," Kyouya deadpans. "And the most I know of the rest is their skillset in case it becomes useful to me."

"Well the Hibari do it differently, yes," Kawahira agrees. He wanders back to the rose bush and waters the newest plant in his garden. "But Xanxus seems to want something else."

"Something else?" Kyouya echoes, opening his eyes and turning to the man, looking confused.

"Maybe try a bonding exercise," Kawahira offers up with a one shouldered shrug. "Figure out what he wants to do about the situation and do it together with him."

Kyouya looks considering for a moment before abruptly standing from Kawahira's lounge chair, dropping the borrowed sunglasses to the grass gently and striding for the gate in the backyard's fence.

When the wooden door closes behind the boy Kawahira smirks. He's a bad person, but he's not sorry about pointing Kyouya at the Vongola.