Chapter Two - Dancing with Squalo
"Why the fuck do I have to learn to dance?"
Xanxus was moaning to Harry as he worked on his homework. Harry had learned that the best way to motivate Xanxus to do his homework was to not mention it, but to make a point of being proud and supportive every time Xanxus actually did any. Xanxus thrived off the praise, and appreciated the lack of pressure. Nono still hadn't learned that every time he dragged Xanxus into his office for a 'talk', Xanxus skipped class for the next three days and refused to do any work at all.
"Can't and won't, Xanxus," Harry said as he ran a duster round the doorframe. Everyone was aware by now that his being a servant was only a polite pretence, but he still took pride in doing his job. Being allowed to drop it if Xanxus needed him was just a bonus.
"Right," Xanxus grumbled, screwing up the paper he was working on and throwing it into the bin across the room.
Can't and won't was something that Harry had used to explain why Xanxus had to learn a lot of the pointless things like dancing and table manners. If you didn't use them, people would assume that you couldn't because you were uneducated trash. If you used them until you built up a reputation, and then stopped, people knew you were choosing not to. If you can't do something you're weak, if you won't, you're strong. Enrico had banged his head on the desk when Xanxus had explained that he was learning etiquette so he would be able to ignore it completely, while shooting anyone else who used the wrong fork. Still, it got him to stay in class.
"But the shitty geezer brought in this twittering bitch. Just because I have to dance with her doesn't mean I have to listen to some brainless trash as well." Harry nodded along as Xanxus complained about his teacher, his dance partner, the music, his father, his brothers and everything else that came into his head. Nono disapproved when he complained, as he did most of the things that Xanxus did, but Harry thought that the fact that Xanxus was willing to express his anger with words instead of setting things on fire was a huge step forward.
"I'll see what I can do about your partner," Harry said, as Xanxus wound down. Xanxus just grunted and closed his eyes. The boy could be like a toddler sometimes, with his need for naps in the middle of the day.
The next morning, Harry drove the hour or so to Mafia School. That had been the biggest change over the last two months; learning that his new employers were Mafia. And his new charge could conjure fire in his hands. Both Enrico and Nono had seemed both impressed and suspicious with the way he took it all in stride. Still, having a school for young Mafiosi was strange even for him. He knew it had some kind of official name – he thought there was a Saint someone-or-other in there somewhere – but everyone just called it Mafia School. He had called ahead, so he was able to go straight into the Headmaster's office.
"What can I do for you?" the Headmaster, Rosario D'Angelo asked after the obligatory small talk. D'Angelo talked to him as though he was a representative of the Vongola, rather than looking down his nose at him because he was a servant. It was refreshing, and reassuring. If the man wasn't willing to take him seriously this could not go well.
"Xanxus is learning to dance and needs partners to practice with. Brave, skilled, not prone to small talk or gossip, from allied Families." It was a short list of requirements, but he knew it removed most of the students. The Mafia was a sexist group, and less than thirty percent of Mafia School's students were female.
"We have a couple of young ladies who might suit. Do you want to meet them?"
"If you don't mind, I'd like to observe them in class first. I need to see how they act naturally, so I have a baseline. If they're the sort of person who put on a mask to talk to people, Xanxus will see straight through it."
The Headmaster agreed, and led him through the opulent corridors to the class of the first student on his list. D'Angelo pointed her out, but Harry struck her off the list immediately. She was staring at a male student and giggling with her group of friends. That sort of behaviour would drive Xanxus up the wall in seconds, and he didn't want to have to explain to her Family why she was in hospital after a dance class.
The second girl went too far in the other direction. She was timid and shy, which would encourage Xanxus to shoot her. He really didn't have the urge to protect helpless things that the girl seemed to be counting on. The third and last girl seemed promising when he observed her. She was confident with her group of friends, a natural leader without being overwhelming. As soon as he started to talk to her, however, he changed his mind. Her entire attitude did a complete about-turn as soon as the word 'servant' came out of the headmaster's mouth. She became dismissive and condescending before he even had time to finish his sentence. Harry resisted the urge to comment and simply walked away, leaving the girl huffing indignantly at being dismissed.
"We could ask the dance tutor," the Headmaster suggested. "She may have advice on which student would be suitable."
Harry agreed and followed the headmaster to the dance studio, where a tall, slim woman was berating a cowering ten year old.
"Miss Conte," the Headmaster called. The woman snapped a final word at the boy, and walked over to them. A tall white-haired boy dragged the cowering child to his feet and began painstakingly walking him through dance steps.
"How can I help you?" she asked. Harry explained his dilemma.
"None of my girls sound like what you're looking for. I assume you want someone in his age range?" she asked.
"If you have anyone younger than twelve who's capable. He's likely to take offence to an older partner. Most of them can't seem to stop patronising him. He's sent a dozen to the hospital already."
She winced. "Honestly, Superbi Squalo is the only one of my students who knows the female steps and might not rub your boy up the wrong way. Unfortunately, he's on his body guarding module at the moment and he can't leave the Cavallone unattended."
The white-haired boy looked at them as she said 'Squalo'. Harry assumed that was his name, making the cowering boy Cavallone, an allied Family. Not one of much importance, so if Xanxus took offence it wouldn't be much of a political nightmare.
"Body guarding module?" Harry asked. He knew that Mafia School would have some odd classes, but really?
"Squalo is acting as the Cavallone's bodyguard for the month. All the staff are watching and assessing. He'll be marked on how he defends the boy from threats, how he carries and presents himself and how he interacts with his charge, among other things. It's not unheard of for dangerous situations to be created so the reactions to danger can be properly assessed, but the Cavallone normally manages to create situations like that all by himself." From the exasperation in her voice, he guessed that Cavallone was something of a problem child.
"I'm sure Cavallone would be welcome at the lessons as well. The Vongola would guarantee his safety while Squalo worked with Xanxus. If nothing else, seeing him try to dance would be an ego-boost for Xanxus."
Miss Conte laughed. "That's true. Squalo!" she called to the boy.
Squalo, who had been paying attention to the conversation even as he worked with his charge, dragged Cavallone over to where they were standing.
"Voi! What is it?" he demanded.
Harry's first impression of the boy was that he was rude, abrasive and arrogant. As he hadn't been killed yet, he probably had the skills to back it up. Xanxus would either love him or hate him.
The headmaster nodded for him to explain, so he stepped forward.
"My charge is learning to dance. He's put all of the partners who tried to work with him in the hospital. I need someone younger than thirteen, skilled at dancing, who won't inspire my charge to murder them. None of the female students were acceptable, but Miss Conte assures me that you know both the female and male parts to the dances my charge needs to learn.
Squalo looked caught between interested and offended. "I'm not a girl!"
Harry sighed. The boy was so very much like Xanxus. "I know. Can you do this or can't you?"
"I'm body guarding Cavallone," he pointed out. The blond boy next to him waved, took a step forward, and promptly tumbled over, apparently tripping over thin air. Squalo grabbed the back of his shirt and hauled him upright without even looking over at him.
"Constantino," "It's Dino!" the blond muttered. "Will have to accompany you to the mansion, but once you are there, you can leave him in the care of the Family's security and attend to Mr Potter's charge with no impact on your grade." D'Angelo told him. Harry wasn't surprised that he was willing to make the concession. A link to the Vongola Family was something that any Mafioso would kill for, and the man wasn't about to deny it to one of his students over something as petty as a class assignment.
"Fine then," Squalo grumbled. Harry grinned as he left the pair, after making plans to have them driven over the next morning. It should be fun.
Xanxus and Squalo got on like a house on fire. It was kind of terrifying to see. Harry leant against a wall next to Cavallone, who was doing his Maths homework, while Xanxus and Squalo danced. Squalo was amazingly graceful, in the way of someone who had been drilled in the steps from the time he could walk.
"The fuck did you learn to dance like this, trash?" Xanxus snarled, as Squalo carefully corrected the way he held his arm.
"Once upon a time, I was heir to the Velone Family," Squalo said, with the air of someone getting unpleasant news out in the open.
"So fucking what, trash?" Xanxus snarled, as the tutor snapped at him to stay on the beat.
"Right, you're new. The Velone were allies of the Vongola. Very old, well respected. Until they fucked it up. My old man sold Vongola secrets to Interpol."
Xanxus scoffed. "Fucking suicidal scum."
Squalo laughed bitterly. "Exactly. So, the whole Family was wiped out. But politics, public image, all that bullshit, meant they didn't kill me. They just dumped me at Mafia School. I suppose they expected that to kill me instead."
Xanxus' eyes narrowed as he stopped moving abruptly. It had gone from a dance, to Squalo being trapped tight in Xanxus' arms. He didn't even bother to struggle.
After a minute, Squalo looked away from Xanxus' intense stare. "If you want me to leave, I'll go. No one wants a traitor's son around the Vongola."
"And no one wants a street whore's bastard as a Vongola heir, but the trash'll just have to suck it up. They expected you to die and you came out on top. You rule that fucking school."
"I could. Ruling never interested me." Squalo sounded hesitantly hopeful.
"Yeah? Well, it interests me. I'm gonna need a right hand."
"What?" Squalo yelped. "We only just met."
"You're mine, trash. Look me in the eye and tell me you're not."
Squalo looked Xanxus straight in the eye, meeting his gaze unflinchingly. "I'm yours, Boss."
They both ignored their sputtering tutor and Cavallone's horrified stare as they began moving to the music once again.
"What was that?" Harry asked that evening.
"What? With Squalo? He's mine," Xanxus growled possessively.
He had been furious when their escort had said they needed to return to the school. Several thousand Euros of expensive ornaments and furniture had been destroyed. Harry hadn't bothered trying to step in. Whatever was going on, this was something serious. Xanxus wasn't the kind of person to let anyone know that he cared, so for him to be this open about his feelings for another person was alarming.
"What do you mean by that?" Harry asked.
Xanxus sat still for a second, then went to lock the door.
"This is all top-level Vongola stuff," he said. "I wouldn't have been told till I was older if I didn't already have Flames."
Right, so Xanxus was probably breaking a lot of rules by telling him this. Harry didn't patronise him by asking if he was sure. Suggesting that Xanxus didn't know what he was doing was one of the many things that put his back up.
"There are seven Flame types; Sky, Storm, Sun, Lightning, Rain, Cloud, Mist. They all have different abilities. Sky is the rarest, the least understood, and the most fucking powerful. Skies are leaders, always. Once a Sky manifests their Flames, they draw others in. What a Sky wants is a full set, one of each Flame, called Guardians."
"So Squalo has a Flame too?"
"Rain, or I'm as blind as the rest of the scum. It's called Harmonization. Most of the time, apparently a Sky will meet a Guardian potential, and they'll get to know each other, and slowly Harmonize over time."
Harry nodded to show that he followed.
"The more powerful the Sky, the greater the chance that Harmonizing will just fucking happen, no warning, no waiting."
That sounded incredibly dangerous. "So you could Harmonize with anyone at any time?"
"None of the trash are good enough for me. My Flames want the best, they won't Harmonize with anyone who isn't really fucking strong."
"So Squalo is a really strong Rain, then? And your Flames decided that they liked each other, and now you're stuck with each other."
"We're not stuck!" Xanxus roared. Harry was taken aback by his ferocity. "He's mine. My Rain, my right hand. Mine."
Right, OK. "Is possessiveness part of it too?" he asked.
Xanxus rubbed his face and sat back down. "Yeah. We're both going to be really fucking twitchy until this settles. The trash trying to keep us apart really isn't helping."
"Well, I think someone your own age working alongside you will be a fantastic motivator for you. And your dancing has already improved," Harry said cheerfully. Xanxus looked up at him.
"I can't imagine that anyone would be stupid enough to keep you separate when he;s so good for you. Do you want me to talk to…"
"No!" Xanxus yelled. "Don't bring the fucking trash into this. I can deal."
Squalo's body guarding module finished at the end of the week, luckily. So there were only three days of Cavallone being dragged to the Vongola Mansion and dumped in a corner to finish his homework under Harry's supervision while Xanxus and Squalo danced. For all the two of them complained about it, Xanxus relaxed when he was holding Squalo, more than Harry had ever seen before. He was calmer and more focused when Squalo was in the room, and the discussions the two of them had while dancing – covering everything from algebra to Family politics – stuck with him more than any lessons from his tutors.
The problem with keeping them together was timetabling. Squalo attended Mafia School, which Xanxus was completely unsuited for. Before Mafia School began and finished, he had three hours of dedicated sword practice. There simply wasn't the time for him to visit more than the hour a day they spent dancing, which meant three hours for Squalo including travel there and back. The blond never complained, never even mentioned it, but Harry and Xanxus could both tell that it was wearing on him. After spending two weeks watching Xanxus drive himself into a frenzy, upset that his Rain was suffering, that he was the cause, that he couldn't help, that he only saw his Rain for an hour, he was finally given permission to go to the authority figure most likely to listen to him.
In the two months since they'd met, he and Enrico had formed a tentative alliance. Enrico wanted the best for Xanxus, but had no idea how to make it happen. Harry knew how to make it happen, but didn't have the power to actually get anything done. Together they could solve most problems without involving Nono.
"What can I help you with?" Enrico asked, pushing aside his paperwork as he waved Harry in.
"Superbi Squalo," Harry said, sinking into one of the more comfortable chairs.
"The Velone boy? I'd heard that he was helping Xan with his dancing."
"According to Xanxus, he's his Rain." Harry tried to make it sound like he had only the barest idea of what that meant. Judging by the look Enrico shot him, he wasn't convinced.
"Well, damn," Enrico said. "That's a problem."
"Xanxus does amazingly well when he's there. He's calmer, he learns faster, he's more settled. He even told Squalo that Nono, 'wasn't nearly as bad as some of the other trash he'd met'."
Enrico looked at him in shock.
"I know. The problem is, Squalo goes to Mafia School. I don't know who exactly has his guardianship, so it's not like I can talk to them to arrange something. It means that he can only spend an hour a day here, and that's exhausting him with all the travel. Something's going to give soon. Xanxus can't go to Mafia School, so there aren't many options."
"I'll see what I can do. Does he know you're talking to me about this?"
"Why do you think it took me two weeks to talk to you? I had to wait for him to suggest it."
Enrico laughed. "You have a better sense for him than all the rest of us put together. Tell him I'll do my best, OK?"
Harry agreed, bowed, and left, closing the door softly behind him.
It was two days later when Enrico called Xanxus in to talk with him. Xanxus dragged Harry with him, as he did to anything involving his family. Harry had managed to defuse more than a few arguments by interpreting for Xanxus, even if he knew Nono at least disliked his interference. At least with Enrico, Xanxus had almost reached the point where they could have a civil conversation without Harry needing to say anything at all.
"So, I needed to get Dad to help with this," Enrico started with as soon as they were both sat down.
"Why the f- why would you need the Old Man's help?" Xanxus growled. Harry was impressed that he had managed to remember Enrico's dislike for cursing.
"The Velone sold secrets, Xanxus. That's a Vindice level crime," Enrico said solemnly. "He had to pull a lot of strings to get this sorted, but we've worked it out. Originally, his custody was with the Vindice. To pay the debt that his Family owed to the Mafia, he would have become one of their agents once he graduated."
Xanxus leapt to his feet, knocking his chair backwards. "No!"
"Calm down," Enrico said. Xanxus stayed standing, trembling with rage.
"As I said, we worked it out. Dad has custody of him now; he's officially a ward of the Vongola. He'll live in the mansion here, and commute to Mafia School every morning. In the afternoon, he'll take the classes he can share with you here. We've had to rearrange both of your schedules to make it work, so be grateful. This was a lot of paperwork."
"So, what'll we take together?" Xanxus asked, sinking back into his seat.
"You're both new to Japanese, so you'll share that. The Vongola Family History is something that he'll need to know, so even though he's ahead on his Family History, you'll share that. If you can get up to speed with your Geography, you'll be able to take that together. He's ahead of you in a lot of things, Xanxus, because he's been in Mafia School for years. You'll need to work hard if you want to take classes together."
Xanxus scowled. He obviously didn't appreciate being told that a ten-year-old was better than him, or the blatantly obvious attempt at manipulation.
"He's as much of a prodigy with a sword as you are with guns; he's almost outgrown his Mafia School tutor, apparently. So he'll take sword lessons here while you work with your guns. You'll take hand-to-hand, dancing and etiquette together. If you can catch up to his level, he'll be able to drop Mafia School entirely and share your tutors."
Xanxus nodded after a moment, when it became clear that Enrico had finished. A whole conversation that hadn't needed Harry's input. Squalo was better for Xanxus than even he'd guessed.
"Xan," Enrico said just before they reached the door, "Dad really did work hard to put this together for you. He used up a lot of the favours he had with the Mafia School."
Xanxus paused for a moment before continuing out the door.
Given the news that he'd been given, Harry had expected Xanxus to be a lot happier. Instead, he spent the next week in a towering fury that not even Squalo could calm. Finally, the blond got annoyed with his Sky, and dragged him to a training room, stopping his dance lesson half way through. Harry followed, and watched from the observation area as they fought. There was no style there, no form. This wasn't martial art, this was pure, raw brawling complete with biting, hair pulling and generally trying to beat the shit out of each other. When they were both collapsed on the ground in exhaustion, Squalo said something to Xanxus. Harry didn't know what they talked about, but when they were done Xanxus pulled himself to his feet, stomped on his Rain's ribs, and stalked out of the room. Harry followed after him, stopping to tell the monitor of the training room – who hadn't dared to interfere with any of Xanxus' fights after the last monitor had been sent to the hospital with third-degree burns – to take Squalo to the Infirmary, and keep him there overnight at the very least.
When Harry reached Xanxus' room, it was a mess. The table was overturned, the vase was smashed against the floor, the books were scattered as though Xanxus had swept his arm straight across the bookcase. The boy himself was sat on the one undamaged chair, head in his hands. Harry busied himself with sorting out the mess while he waited for Xanxus to get his head together.
"I owe the fucking trash," Xanxus said suddenly. "What the Hell am I supposed to do about that?"
Oh. That was the problem. How had he not seen that? Gratitude was something that Xanxus was uncomfortable with, and debts would be something that people would hold over them.
"You could just say thank…" Harry began.
"Like Hell!" Xanxus snarled. "I'm not giving the shitty old man something to hold over me."
"So think of something that you can do that would please him. He's done something for you; what can you do in return?"
Xanxus sat still for a moment, before pushing himself to his feet. "I'm going to go shoot something."
Harry sighed and got to work cleaning up.
I wasn't going to continue this. And then Squalo happened. This fic will not be a priority for me. Mostly, I'll throw a chapter up when I get inspiration, or when I'm stalled out on everything else.
Also,this really needs a better name and summary. Any ideas?