Four years to fall out of a block of frozen failure. Xanxus doesn't know how or why or who, but he does know what now.
His cousins are all dead, and the only thing anyone has heard about a new heir is that Reborn has been dispatched to Japan.
Squalo has done well enough, for all Xanxus is loath to admit it. The Varia are still strong. Xanxus still has something to work with, with the taste of failure bitter in his mouth. He can still triumph. The leadership is still in reach.
This time he doesn't bother with coups or honor. In and out, smooth as shadows. Shutting his lying bastard of a not-father into the machine that eat away his life, Xanxus feels nothing. Stealing the Vongola rings and dispatching the shark trash after the rest similarly elicits no reaction. He feels cold and dead with rage. There is nothing that he wants more than this now- no room for anything besides bitterness and cold ambition.
Then the stupid trash comes back with fake ring halves and a tall story, Reborn the ultimate hitman and golden boy Dino Cavallone.
And the news that the one carrying the mark of the Tenth boss is a girl not yet grown.
Xanxus knows who it is even before Mammon sneezes out a name. Natsumi. How could Iemitsu have put her up for the boss? She's completely unsuited to even live the life, let alone lead it. She's lived a normal life. She's just a normal girl. Even after what he'd done to- no. Xanxus slams the thought away. If she interferes, he'll destroy her. It doesn't matter who it is. No one can be allowed to stand in his way.
"We go to Japan." Because he wants to crush them himself. "Give me all the information you can on this girl."
Levi may be inept, but incompetent he is not. Pictures, stats and extended surveillance, all the way down to the boy she likes and the encourage who worships her.
("Why the fuck would Boss want to know shit like that?" whisper-shrieks Sqaulo.
Levi looks mulish. "He said all the information. I got him all the information.")
Grades: terrible. Athletic prowess: terrible. Social Status: terrible until very recently, when some of the most popular boys in her class had to all appearances sworn undying love and eternal devotion. Guy she likes (what the fucking hell, Levi): pretty as a girl, bright and smiling and clearly brainless. Something less like Xanxus would have had to actually possess ovaries and tits.
It's been four years lost to him, and nothing makes him feel that as keenly as Natsumi; Levi's source has sent just about a gigabyte of pictures, sharp and candid and nearly voyeuristic. She's taller, fuller, still looking about three years younger than she really is. He'd been right about her looking better as she got older, baby fat melting away to expose sharp bones in a soft face.
(He thinks: she's beautiful.
The Varia comment: god, what a scrawny little brat)
She's still smiling her happy, trusting smile. The stupid expression on her face hasn't changed at all. It's amazing that she can still smile like that, after what- what he's done to her.
It means she hasn't changed either, where it matters. There's no way she can lead the family, and there's no way she can stand up to him.
.0.
The opponents are ragtag children. Noisy, unpolished brats with a few playground wins under their belts, and set against the Varia they're worms against gods. Xanxus comes along ostensibly to watch the show, settles himself on a rooftop and sends the dogs out to hunt and kill.
Except for the imposter bitch, he tells them. Her, you bring to me.
Life being thus, they don't need to: a small, afro-haired boy bounces down the street, screaming with laughter. And Sawada Natsumi chases after him with terror and worry written onto her face.
Caught off-guard, Xanxus turns- and their eyes meet, across a few diagonal meters of empty space and ten generations of politics and bloodshed and lies.
It's like he's being frozen again, ice seeping up his veins towards a raging heart. He can't breathe, can't move. She's also still, orange light glowing off red tints in her hair and turning eyes empty of everything but surprise to amber.
.0.
Dark silhouette outlined against purple sky, blue gleaming off depthless black. Scars over a familiar face. Face gone blank. But no one else can stand like that, effortlessly elegant and intimidating. She would know him anywhere, and she doesn't know this person at all.
(It's him. It has to be.
Why?)
Is he here over the whole rings problem? Will he help her? Where has he been? Wasn't he the one supposed to be the boss?
It's been four years. Natsu had almost forgotten that she can never forget.
The weight of the half-ring is still cold against her collarbone. She's not used to wearing jewelry, and can't forget she's wearing it. The boys have taken to wearing them already. How can she drag them into this? She doesn't want to fight. She can't do this. She's never been strong.
Even with (or for) him.
.0.
Depending on whom you ask, Levi has the best or the worst possible timing upon the face of this earth. He arrives in his search for the thunder ring, closely pursued by just about everyone else involved in this farce.
The Varia gather around Xanxus, and the brats around her. Shows of loyalty, solidarity. Then things start to happen, and Xanxus feels satisfaction because it's all under his control. Everything is happening according to plan.
Even from that distance, he can see the panic blooming on her face as the ring battles are decided upon; she already knows that there's no possible way she can beat him. Reborn says as much, tiny face unreadable.
All trivialities settled, they turn to leave.
"W-wait!" she cries. "Xanxus! O-onii-sama!"
There was an audible hush. Even the distant hum of the lights seemed to die in the face of the collective entirely silent internal ONII-SAMA??!!
Natsu pays this no attention. "You- you- why are you doing this? What- what's going on?"
"Natsu!" snaps Reborn, but she pays him no attention.
"Is-" and she visibly quails under the collective incredulous stares. "Is this about what happened four years ago? They- they wouldn't tell me what happened- just that there was trouble-"
A part of Xanxus is dying to say, the part where I failed to overthrow the mafia boss who took me in from the gutter, or the part where I raped an eleven-year old girl?, but it's a very small part, and it's lost in the sea of ambition. Natsumi is standing in his way.
"Natsumi," he says, cutting her off mid-babble. She's still so small, dwarfed by the trash around her. And she's still looking at him like she thinks he can make everything right. And he can, just not right for her. "You'll die," he tells her, "for having those rings. You and all that trash."
And that's all there is to it.
(Except it's not. There's the way her eyes widen further, the way her face falls. How she looks around at all her trash friends, looking at her for guidance, realizes that they might die as easily as those men did a lifetime ago.
How she looks back at him, eyes cold with fear, and turns away.)
.0.
Natsu feels like dying. How can she have agreed to this? She knows how strong Xanxus is, has seen Squalo take them all down without batting an eye. How can she have doomed her friends like this?
("I have to go through with this, don't I," she tells Reborn. "Xanxus won't let us go."
"He's that sort of person," Reborn agrees. "How, Natsu?"
"I don't," she whispers, and clenches her fist until it's white. "I don't want my friends to die.")