Chapter Four: The Baby

"Eleventh generation…" I tried again, attempting organize my bewildered thoughts.

"… mafia boss?" Shinsei – or, as I had already dubbed him, the kendo-freak – finished for me, looking even more confused than he usually did.

I scowled at him deeply, only half because of the fact that finishing each other's sentences freaked me out more than a little.

Mikomi was staring intently at his now bare feet (some part of my mind went, "Huh? When the hell did he strip to his boxers?" but the dominant part ignored the fact completely) as though they were the most interesting thing since the discovery of gunpowder.

"Wait a minute…"

I broke the perplexed and, in Mikomi's case, nervous silence again when I'd finally hit on something I really needed the answer to.

"How on Earth did you just survive a shot to the head?"

The short blonde was saved from answering by a strange baby who was wearing a suit. Well, saved is probably not the right term, seeing as Mikomi was actually violently kicked in the head, causing him to fall over and the baby to land in front of Shinsei and I, facing us.

The kid was wearing a tailor-made black, business suit and – now that I think of it – a distinctly mafia-esque hat, which he tipped to us in greeting.

"Ciaossu," he chirped, a smirk fleetingly crossing his face.

"Ciao, signore," I answered automatically, my father's language rolling off my tongue. Weird – this baby was, what, half Italian? And he seemed to demand the respectful term, definitely not a normal baby.

"So, are you two part of Mikomi's family?" he asked though it seemed as though he already knew the answer – whatever the answer was. He turned back to the mentioned boy who had now gotten up from the ground and was nearly dressed, "It's about time No-Good-Miko. You should invite your subordinates to the main house."

"Reborn!" he yelled, addressing the baby as though it was the kid's name, "Shinsei and A-Akira aren't my subordinates! They're my friends! I don't want to be a mafia boss!"

I felt confused. I glanced at the kendo-freak. 'Ah well,' I thought consolingly as the black haired teen stood there scratching the back of his head, 'at least I still know better than that idiot.'

The kid turned back to us ignoring the spluttering blonde behind him, "Well, would you like to be in Mikomi's family? He's going to be Vongola Undicesimo."

"Vongola?" I'd heard of the Vongola, you couldn't not in some of the places I'd been. 'Vongola the Eleventh, huh…' I mused

Behind me, Shinsei began to laugh as though he suddenly got it.

"Oh, I see!" he exclaimed, and I turned to see a big grin on his face. He looked at Mikomi, "You play this mafia game with this kid – you sure go all out with the bad guys and fake guns! Sure, I'll be in the family. You're the boss, right Mikomi? Should be fun!"

Mikomi and I looked at him blankly, and I could feel the sweat rolling down my head at his obliviousness. The baby – Reborn, I supposed he was called – just smiled and turned to me.

"Akira, was it?" he asked and I absently nodded in acknowledgement, still mulling everything over, "Would you like to be in the family."

I glanced at Mikomi, who was steadily avoiding my gaze with a scowl and a small blush on his cheeks. Maybe the short, pathetic blonde would grow up to be something. After all, when I'd first met him, he'd made me want to follow him just from the look in his eyes.

Shrugging, I looked down at the baby, "If Mikomi's the boss, okay."

"Guys!" Mikomi whined with unusual boldness, "You're not my subordinates! I'm not in the mafia and I don't want to be no matter how much I'm like my father!"

It was my turn to laugh, which seemed to surprise the two boys my age, "C'mon boss!" I said, stepping up beside the shorter guy and nudging him, "The Kendo-Idiot is right, it'll be fun."

Shinsei moved over to Mikomi's other side and draped his arm over our new boss's shoulders, "Course it will be!"

"Guys," the blonde sighed, but his happiness showed too clearly in his eyes for us to believe him. The baby disappeared to somewhere as we gave each other a stupid grin.

As we were walking out of the storage room – Mikomi had managed to clean it all up in his weird adrenalin-induced rampage, meaning our detention was over – I noticed something on the floor glint in the light.

I stopped, but the others walked ahead as I bent down to pick up the strange, shiny silver ring someone must've dropped.

When I reached it, I realised it had a note folded into a small square attached to the bottom. Unfolding the tiny piece of paper I found a short message addressed to me.

Akira Conti, it said in neat, spidery writing – like my Grandfather's letters used to look.

Mantenga questo, usilo quando il momento viene.

After re-reading the weird note a couple of times, I looked at the ring itself. It had a small red jewel, surrounded by swirling clouds and the occasional lightning bolt. It looked awesome and it was just a ring so I shrugged and slipped it on.

I crushed the note into a ball, slipping it into my pocket, when I heard Mikomi's voice calling back to me and ran out to catch up with the boys, the note still weighing a little on my mind.

My Italian wasn't rusty and the meaning of those words was clear, it just didn't make sense. Keep this, use it when the time comes. Weird, I thought then dismissed it to hang out with my new friends.