A/N: This was originally supposed to be a bit of a funny drabble... but it turned into something slightly less funny and longer than a little drabble...


It had started at that stupid party the old man hosted a few months back. The scrawny shit walked up to him and started a conversation—as if anyone could casually talk to him, the son of the Ninth boss of the Vongola, the most powerful mafia family in the world. 'I feel your anger,' he had said, 'the burning anger in your soul. I see the resolution in your eyes—your determination to be noticed, to prove yourself.' punctuated with what Xanxus quickly learned to be his signature grin.

The audacity coming from a no-name scum pissed him off. How dare the little shit. 'Who the fuck are you, scum, to make brash assumptions about me?' he growled in return, rage seething in his entire being at being seen so easily by a stranger. It was violating, made him feel exposed. It made him angry. So very angry. To the point he no longer cared about receiving an answer from the scum, he just let his anger direct his fists. Maybe a beating would teach the shit to not speak out of turn.

Somehow, he had a feeling the other was evaluating him. Because despite how many times Xanxus would punch and kick and yank the short hair—what the fuck stupid hairstyle was that anyway—those sharp eyes were watching him unflinchingly. The cool eyes bore into him, and he believed without a doubt the scum had a knack for seeing things, to be able to see through a person and assess them for who they are at their core. That thought pissed him off even more and he hit all the harder.

He was not using all his strength—he was beating out his surprise and anger and frustration, not aiming to maim or kill—nor was he utilizing his full speed. In their brief moments of contact, he could feel the other's lean muscle likely honed by many hours of training. That coupled with the pride Xanxus swore he could feel just as strongly on the other side of the estate emanating from the little shit gave Xanxus the understanding that his current punching bag was skilled enough to dodge his attacks. A person definitely does not walk around a party of mafiosi with that air about him unless he has the skill to back up his nonverbal statement of superiority.

The thought of him being humored furthered his belief that those sharp eyes were appraising him. Why? That thought brought a pause in his actions and he stared at the skinny boy—still standing? what the fuck, he wasn't using all his strength, but his blows were still powerful—confused. Why?

Seemingly done with his assessment, the boy grinned again, a very satisfied and happy with a touch unsettling grin. Finally looking away from Xanxus he straightened up his clothes and brushed back his hair, casually mentioning how he 'liked his will', 'it's strong and unbreakable', and then 'I'll help you'.

Xanxus blinked, mind processing what the other had just said. What, how, and who ran through his head. With a scowl on his face, he looked up to demand answers but noticed the boy was walking away from him. Before he could open his mouth, the boy turned around with a smaller—but no less unsettling—grin. 'Superbi Squalo,' and it took Xanxus a moment to understand the shit was introducing himself. 'I'll be seeing you around.' and with that he turned back and left.

Baffled and still processing what had just happened, Xanxus took a seat. Help him? What did he need help with? And why would he want a fucking shark helping him with anything? How strong was the scrawny shit anyway?

He got his answer a few months later when news that the first Sword Emperor and Varia leader had been defeated and killed. While people died every day in the mafia world, that particular bit of news was more astonishing and admirable when everyone heard of the fourteen-year-old boy who defeated the man. 'Prodigy,' they called him, 'a genius with the sword. Too bad about his left hand, though. Got cut off in the fight.'. Xanxus scarcely gave it any thought.

Until he met Superbi Squalo again.

It was another party his father threw for whatever reason and he was standing around as per usual when he spotted the boy walking towards him, cocky shark grin in place. Something about him was different, though. His pride seemed to be more, if that were possible, stronger. Then he noticed the hand, or the stumped remains of what used to be his hand. Incredulous, he looked into Squalo's proud eyes. The boy told him of his decision to defeat the Sword Emperor to test his strength, but Xanxus was struck dumb once again when Squalo told him to take charge of the Varia. Suspicious, he scowled and demanded—he was the Ninth's son goddammit, he didn't need to ask for anything—an answer.

'You're strong, and you'll only get stronger. I want to follow your unbendable will. Lead the Varia and I will make you the strongest army the world has ever seen.'

Squalo kept him on his toes, always doing something to surprise him. First, he was surprised at how quick Squalo was. After working closely with him for a week, Squalo knew what kinds of moods warranted what drink, what kind of meat he was in the mood for and how he liked each dish prepared, and when to leave him alone to brood. There was a small margin of error that decreased exponentially after a month of Xanxus taking over the Varia.

He was also surprised at how how strong Squalo's word was. When he said he would do something, it would be done. Xanxus had no idea how Squalo was going to make him a strong army, stronger than the Varia already was. Apparently that meant Squalo would personally train the Varia members to death and back while also bringing back those he thought would fit in just well with the Varia. How he managed to train and recruit while making sure Xanxus' meals were on time—and to his desired specifications too (did the shark make them himself? Xanxus never asked and Squalo never said anything, but sometimes he wondered)—on top of his own training was admirable. Not that Xanxus would do anything beyond raise an eyebrow at how he managed to not fall over dead at all of the work, but his respect for his second grew.

It was a few months after he had taken leadership of the Varia that Squalo came in his office with a kid. Staring blankly at his second's grin he wondered what was going on, why there was a kid in his office, and what the fuck was there to be ginning about.

He looked at the blonde hair that covered half of the boy's face and—was that a fucking tiara?—looked back at Squalo. "I don't see the resemblance." He said.

Squalo scowled, "Ha. Ha. You're a fucking riot." Xanxus noticed, as Squalo brushed a hand through it, that his hair was a bit longer. 'Until you realize your goal, I won't cut my hair.' Squalo was proving himself a man of his word.

Xanxus leaned back in his chair and drank some of his Tequila. "Then what in the fuck is he doing in my office?"

"His name is Belphegor. He's the newest recruit."

"You're shitting me." Xanxus appraised the boy, "If I sneeze, he'll be blown into the Mediterranean."

Squalo snorted, "He might not be much to look at, but he single-handedly killed his whole fami-"

"Fight me."

Both Xanxus and Squalo looked at the kid, Xanxus with an eyebrow raised and Squalo with a scowl. "VOOOOOOIII I told you to shut up and let me talk, fucking brat!"

The boy yawned, "You were taking too long. The Prince doesn't like waiting."

Xanxus' other eyebrow rose to join the first. Prince? "What makes you think I want to fight scum?"

"The Prince is not scum."

Squalo smacked the back of the boy's head. "Vooooi! Shut your mouth!" He turned back to Xanxus. "I can have him fight an underling, see what happens." He said it in a matter of fact tone but Xanxus knew he was wondering what was to be the next course of action.

"Well? What are you waiting for?"

Squalo snorted and turned to leave. "Come with me, brat."

"Ushishi, The Prince doesn't take any orders from peasants."

"Voii! I'll fucking show you 'peasant'!"

Xanxus followed the two down to one of the training rooms, amused at how comfortable the two already seemed with each other. Comfortable meaning Belphegor provoking Squalo for whatever reason and Squalo smacking him in retaliation. He scoffed when he heard the young boy whine at a supposedly painful hit to the back of his head, mumbling something about 'being attacked by a peasant'.

When they got to the training room, Squalo called over someone Xanxus did not recognize and told him to fight the blonde. At first the lackey looked reluctant, probably unsure about fighting a seemingly harmless child, but acquiesced to his superior's command. As the two moved to the center of the room, Xanxus and Squalo stood to the side to observe.

"He's quick." Squalo thought aloud. The boy was dodging attacks and throwing knives in retaliation. "Could use some training, but there's potential." The two noticed the knives tied to a thin wire, nearly imperceptible to the naked eye. Belphegor grinned a full-toothed grin and started attacking with more fervor than before. He was done assessing his enemy and fighting seriously, then. As soon as that happened, there was a noticeable difference in fighting strength and the two leaders of the Varia knew Bel would win the fight.

"Hmm."

At the noise from the other, Xanxus looked over and observed Squalo. The shark was standing arms crossed, head tilted slightly to the side and eyes bright and attentive to the battle. The slightest of frowns was on his face, as if he were puzzling out something. Must not be incredibly important if Squalo were keeping it to himself (unless he was thinking through a particularly difficult equation—he usually puzzled things out loud when in Xanxus' company). It was a curious expression to see on his second; usually Squalo saw through moves as quickly as they were dealt and immediately devised a way to counter.

"There's something," Squalo made a 'tsk' sound, "Something's not right."

As he said it, Bel's opponent—what was his name? Xanxus could not remember—managed to wound the boy's arm deeply. Everyone in the room felt the change in atmosphere. The boy stood still, as if shocked; though why, neither Xanxus nor Squalo knew. Then the eight-year-old started shaking, quiet laughter slowly crescendoed into loud and hysteric cackling.

"Royal blood. You've spilled the blood of royalty!" They watched the blonde ran his other hand across the wound and inspect the blood, rubbing it around his fingers. "Ohhhh, you've done it now," Bel's body convulsed with laughter, "The Prince's blood: warm, wet, red—so, so very red—and it won't stop! Why won't it stop?" By that point, the boy was rubbing his own blood all over his hands and up his arms, trying to cover himself. "Blood, Royal Blood, so much of The Prince's blood! Spilling, flowing, dripping!" His head snapped up and stared straight at the perpetrator; if his eyes were visible, Xanxus was sure there would have been wide, gleaming with insanity.

"The fuck is this weirdo...?" Xanxus frowned, crossing his arms.

"After killing his brother, the sight of his own blood makes him flip shit." Squalo explained, "Something about seeing royal blood riles him up."

They saw the blonde fan out knives in each bloody hand and run towards his opponent. "He's going to die." Squalo mentioned almost casually about the boy's opponent. Despite knowing the man's fate, neither made a move to intervine with the fight. The Varia was only for the elite, after all, if someone is not the strongest of the strong then they have no business in the Varia.

It was not long after that when Bel finished off his unnamed opponent, he turned towards the only other two in the room. "Will you last longer than that peasant? Maybe you'll make more blood flow from these royal veins?" He broke off into a giggle.

Xanxus raised an eyebrow, as if the leader of the Varia could be bested by a child. "Squalo."

His second glanced at him a split second before dashing off towards the boy who seemed stuck in a fit of giggles. When he saw Squalo coming towards him with his sword raised, however, he pulled out more knives and tried throwing them at the swordsman. Unfortunately for him, Squalo was a fighting genius with many more years of experience over the small boy. It was not long before Squalo maneuvered himself around the boy to give him a hard enough hit in the temple hard enough for the boy to crumple to the ground, unconscious.

"The fuck does this kid think he is, challenging me." Xanxus marched over to look at the unconscious boy. He was a skinny little shit, but a decent fighter. "He could be strong."

"We're already a band of crazy mother fuckers," Squalo snorted, "What's one more?"

With that, Xanxus turned around and went back to his office to finish his work. He knew Squalo would take care of the brat: get someone to wrap his wounds, make sure he had a room somewhere in the mansion, and would be sized for the Varia uniform. Looking at his clock, he knew Squalo would do it all quickly so Xanxus would get his dinner on time.

'I will make you the strongest army the world has ever seen.'

Xanxus knew Squalo took his promises seriously, and it seemed he was working especially hard to create an army for Xanxus. Why he made those promises to begin with, Xanxus realized he probably would never know. But he knew that Superbi Squalo would follow him until the day he died.

Maybe even after.


A/N: Sooooo, I haven't really seen too many things set before the Cradle Affair... nor have I really seen anything about a young Bel, and I decided to try my hand. This was a bit of a challenge for me, as I'm neither accustomed to writing from Xanxus' perspective, nor have I written a psychotic person. What'd you think? Like it? Hate it? Please let me know, I'd much appreciate it!