In Their Story, There was a Girl

Chapter 39: Cara Sorella

As reading this chapter, please listen to "Tsuyu wo Suu Gun" from Mushishi OST.

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"Xanxus! How—how did you make those flames in your hands?!"

"This is… unbelievable! Xanxus, you might be…"

"He's our son, Timoteo! Look at this flame!"

"You believe me, don't you? There's no mistake… Xanxus carries your blood!"

The old man looked at me with unreadable eyes. Something told me that there's always something more to what this man says. But at that time, I foolishly believed every single word from his mouth.

"Yes, Xanxus, you are my son."

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Ever since my life changed from the squatters to the Vongola Headquarters, I grew up with power; everyone feared me. It was something I've never tasted before. I loved the pathetic looks of the people who worshipped me. And that was how I was perceived. Always cold and emotionless with everyone, never a smile on my face. Just like that. I never tried to understand anyone before me, because they don't understand me. I never thought of anyone as a friend, never bonded with them, never saw them clearly, never tried to look into their heart. Because they don't know anything about me.

I never tried to think about for what reason did these people decide to join the Mafioso. For money? Power? The excitement of murder?—those are only selfishness.

They would never understand…the importance of my pride.

Yes, my pride. Born from the squatters, but yielding royal blood in actuality. I was the successor to the seat of the boss. And I was the only rightful person. Having started out with nothing at all, no one else can compare with what I've achieved. No one else has enough power, enough ambition, to become the boss other than me.

That was my pride. Until…

"Hey!"

Never had I been addressed with such a rude tone.

"How rude! You're supposed to help me up!"

That rainy day when I met her, I didn't realize that she was going to change everything. For a young girl, she had enough fierceness in her eyes to match his. Her iron-black eyes were so cold that they were almost hot. They way that she shouted nonsense at him showed her desperation, desire, and her courage.

"Stupid woman! That's what you get for leaving me! That's what you get!"

She was merely six years old. I didn't think that children could show such madness in their eyes. Whether it was rain or tears pouring down her cheeks, I didn't know. But for the first time since I've become the son of the ninth boss of Vogola, I felt threatened by someone else's fury.

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The day after that, the old man adopted the little trash—her name is Yotsuba. She was a spoiled one, and she was eccentric, that's for sure. Most of the things she says don't make sense. Someone like me and someone like her couldn't have gotten along at first.

"Niichan! Give me a hug-hug!" she held out her arms like a bear, smiling in the most idiotic way I've ever seen.

I shoved her away. In fact, I shoved her away many times. She was astonished, probably because no one else dared to push her away. It was amusing to see her eyes darken and watch her walk away while murmuring dangerous words. I saw through her façade ever since the first day that she started living here. She would manipulate the ones who loved her, like the Chiavorrone trash, and act as sweet as honey to the other people with power, like me.

"Young Lady, it's almost Christmas."

The old butler said to the little trash as he brushed her hair gently. It was the day of the big Christmas Party at the Vongola estate. In other words, a get-together for all of those with power in the world of Mafioso; an event where people smiled falsely and used fake courtesy toward everyone. I was already done with my preparations, and I sat at the couch in the little trash's room to wait for her. I always had to appear with the little trash in these kinds of parties.

"Christmas?" repeated the little trash, removing the eyes from the book that she was reading and placing them on the old butler's reflection in the mirror.

"Yes. Aren't you excited, Young Lady?" the old butler asked cheerfully. "All the children are looking forward to this day! Not only do they have break from school, they also receive Santa Claus's presents!"

"Santa Claus is just a lie to get children to be nice," the little trash smiled despite the content of what she's saying. "It's just a trick with parents buying the presents at first, and eating the cookies while dressing like Santa Claus."

The old butler's smile dropped a little, and he sighed. "……Young Lady, sometimes I think that your mind has grown a little bit too much."

"You think so?"

"Yes," the old butler continued, "if your mind would grow as a normal child, I think it would be healthier for your heart."

"Healthier, maybe," the little trash laughed. "but not necessarily better, yes?"

I looked around the room, and my eyes landed where they always have—the old picture of the little trash and her parents. It was not until a year later after knowing her that I found out about what happened with her parents. Because of that, the little trash has always been thinking differently from other kids. At times like this, the little trash is like me. Her anger towards her parents, and also her regret.

I studied the woman in the picture. The blackness of her eyes were the exact same with the little trash's. At that time, it was I who announced her death to the little trash, without even knowing. The woman was weak. Giving all of her life just so the little trash can leave the world of Mafioso once and for all.

And my mother. Giving all of her life so that I can gain power from this world.

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"Ah! Niichan!" she called me with surprise in her voice. Sitting there in the big tree like she usually did; I knew she had fighting lessons during this time. "Niichan, you can't tell Dad about this, okay?"

She jumped down from the tree, standing in front of me with a smile on her face. I punched her. Hard in the face. And she stumbled back a few steps from the force. She turned back to look at me with angry eyes, tears provoked by pain. "What was that for?"

"Now you know better than to ditch class."

She looked down with guilt in her eyes. "What do I need to know how to fight for? There are people who will protect me here. And when there isn't, I'll accept whatever happens to me. No one…needs to sacrifice themselves for me."

I stared at her dark eyes. I didn't need anyone to tell me that the little trash is different from ordinary children. I knew since the first day… that we are different from the other fools in this world.

"Don't think highly of yourself," I said coldly. "Your parents are dead. There's no one that's going to sacrifice for you."

She glared at me furiously at the mention of her parents.

"You fight to protect your pride. You said so on the day that we met—your name is Mikami Yotsuba—isn't that right? you said it proudly, now can you really defend it?"

Ever since that day, the little trash went to her Aikidou lessons every day. In addition to that, she trained with me. There were more and more bruises on her each day; I was merciless during our sparring sessions. I didn't understand what I was really doing back then. Not until a few years later did I realized that I was making her grow into another "me." A new different "me."

"Hey, that kid Xanxus found out…"

"He found out? How?"

"Said he read it in Ninth's diary."

"That poor kid… he must be heartbroken…"

I wasn't heartbroken. Somewhere in my mind, I already knew something like this was going to happen. I was furious. The old man promised me something that he never really meant. The seat of the boss belongs to me. Even if I was born from the squatters, I've proven myself with power that I rightfully belong in that seat. The life that I've lived, the things I had gone through, I've done everything to prove myself the strongest man under the name of Vongola. Yet, a no-name Japanese scum is going to be the successor? Bullshit.

On that day I furiously destroyed my room and everywhere I went to. Butlers and maids that tried to stop me were seriously wounded. Even the guards around were beaten half to death. The old man was nowhere to be found. He was probably running away from me; I would've probably killed him if I saw him in that state.

I drank and drank until I passed out. And somewhere during the night, I ended up with a high fever. Even then, I beat up the people who tried to come into my room to "help me."

I had completely forgotten about the little trash, until she came to my room.

"Niichan," she said nervously while carrying a plate of food and medicine. "The maid outside was all bruised up so I decided to take this for her. I heard you were drinking and didn't eat anything at all, and now you have a fever."

"Get the fuck out." I said, burying my face in the pillow.

She was silent. All I heard was her putting the plate down on the table and sat down on a chair after pulling it back on its legs. And then, she said in a barely audible voice, "I understand…"

I raised my head and glared at her. "Understand? What do you understand, trash?!"

At that moment, I was too angry to notice. But now that I remember, the look on her face was completely torn.

"I'm the same, you know?" she said. "My father didn't want to have anything to do with me. Neither did my mother. All because of the mafia… but I'm still here right now, because The Ninth loves me like his own daughter."

I scoffed, turning my back toward her. I felt her small hand touch my shoulder. I was either too tired or too drunk to throw her across the room.

"Even if you don't think of me as your sister, Niichan, I'll love you. For everything you've done for me."

Ever since that day, my words to the little trash were less and less. She has noticed, too, but acted indifferently about it. I knew that it bothered her, but at that time all I thought about was how to make my point clear to the old man. I met Squalo, and became the boss of the Varia. There I gathered even more trashes, and planned the rebellion. The little trash had sensed something weird going on, and pestered the other Varia members about it. I had anticipated that scum Squalo to tell her, but he didn't in the end.

On the day of the rebellion, I did not see the little trash at all. I never really thought about…what might've happened if I did see the little trash on that day.

The next and last time that I saw the little trash was when I was being held and under strict surveillance somewhere in the Vongola headquarters. The little trash was allowed to see me for just five minutes. It was for once and once only. And it was that five minutes that made me realize…why I haven't killed her for all this time that we've been with each other.

"Niichan!" I heard her gasp when she saw my face. "Are you all right?"

I scoffed. "Do I look all right?"

My face was covered with scars of what's left after the battle between the old man and me. I stretched a little, moving my fingers that were a bit numb.

"About you and the Varia's rebellion…" she started, "Why… I couldn't stop you guys…" she lowered her head. Her voice sounded as if she was crying. It annoyed me.

"Shut up, you trash!!"

"I'm sorry…if I'd known what you were planning…I could've done something," she sobbed. "If I had the ability…I would've helped you…I wouldn't have left you alone for all this time…"

"I SAID, SHUT THE FUCK UP!"

I jumped to the bars that constrained me and reached out a hand to grab the little trash's collar. She choked with her tears by my sudden action. I could hear commotion outside; the guards were trying to come in but the trash locked the door to the chamber. "What the hell could you have done, huh? What do you understand about me, you scum?"

"You were there with me since the very beginning," she whispered.

Before I could say anything else, the guards broke into the room. Shocked by what they were seeing, they hurried broke the two of us apart. One guard shoved me back into the cell with the tip of his rifle. The other one pulled the little trash away. Even then, she still had the sad look in her eyes.

"I'm going to Japan, Niichan. I'll see for myself, if Sawada Tsunayoshi is fit for the seat of the boss." And the door was shut.

I never realized, until then, how similar the two of us are. We were all human beings driven by desire. My desire for power, and her desire for love. Maybe if I hadn't met her on that day, she wouldn't have the will to live. Yet as I watched her grow, she was more than just a weak little girl. Having been bloodstained since such a young age, she wasn't the very least normal. She has already accepted that humanity's evil and corruption, and decided that she'll live among it. Even at the Battle of the Snow, I saw the terror in her eyes that she's holding a weapon that can destroy other people's lives, but she was ready to do so for that little scum. And yet, with all of the ugliness of the world within her, she is still desperately latched on to the very dim light of innocence.

I watched her suffer; I watched her struggle. I've watched her done things that she hated doing. And all this time, she kept holding on, even when it's quickly slipping away from her grasp.

I was watching her grow into "me." A "me" that is still holding on. And at this point, I cannot watch myself like that anymore.

I have to grab on and not let her fall.

And that is my pride.

"Boss! Oi, boss!"

I looked irritatingly at the voice who called me. Ah, that sum Squalo. I can't believe that he's still alive. Though he's still bandaged like a mummy, he is able to walk now. Too bad those sharks weren't hungry.

"Isn't that little brat going back with us?" his loud voice is really annoying. "She's late!"

Really, too bad. I hate it when this scum keep blabbering about the little trash. What kind of man is he to fall for a little trash like that?

"She's spending her last minute with the Japanese trashes. Just wait, the plane isn't until two hours."

The scum looked at me with a weird look. "Was that my illusion or did you just say something nice about that brat?"

"It was your illusion, trash."

The door bell rang followed by the sound of the door opening. And then the idiot prince's voice. "Princess is here!"

"Sorry that I'm late!" the little trash rushed into the room with a ridiculous smile on her face. Her cheeks were red and she looked dazed. Whatever. I don't want to know what happened at the party. Then, she noticed what I was drinking and frowned.

"Niichan, you shouldn't be drinking when you're recovering from your wounds!" she scolded.

"Ooooii, brat! What were you doing?! You face is—"

"Ahhhh! It's so hot today! I'm going to take a shower before we leave!"

With that said, she rushed into the bathroom, leaving the scum dumbfounded outside. I tossed the cup of sake aside. I hate the taste of sake, anyway. I still prefer vodka.

"Trash, go get me some vodka."

"WHAT?!" the scum shouted. "YOU EXPECT ME TO GET YOU VODKA NOW?!"

"You have an hour. Go."

"I hope you get alcohol poisoned."

He slammed the door shut. I'm surrounded by such idiots.

TBC.

A/N: Xanxus-OOCness! But then if Xanxus wasn't OOC in this chapter, then my whole story up til now wouldn't have made sense. Anyway, hope you all liked this chapter! Happy Thanksgiving to my readers in the U.S.! I hope everybody will take some time to be thankful for their family, even if quietly in your mind. Thanks, everyone, for reading my story up til now!