OpalescentGold: I do not own Katekyo Hitman Reborn!
Basse: an Italian courtly dance for couples, with a style of small gliding steps and various combinations of small bows in 12/8 time.
The summer after graduation, Kyoya decided it was finally time for his little sister to join his Disciplinary Committee, seeing as she would shortly be attending Namimori Middle.
Accordingly, he informed Tetsuya that all members were to be gathered in the gym tomorrow morning while he went off to find Masami. Everyone else might be off crowding during break, but there were remedial school and herbivores to be looked after.
Granted, even if there hadn't been that, Kyoya would still have been busy patrolling the streets and keeping the sheep happy, but as it was, he was dismally occupied with stupid herbivores who couldn't use the soft matter in their skulls.
At least there was still time for him to nap on the rooftop.
Tracking Masami down to her favorite bookstore, he found her seated in a corner table, her glasses perched on her nose and her eyes set firmly on the book of politics she was devouring at the moment, a cup of coffee and a half-eaten muffin by her hand.
Honestly, sometimes Kyoya's sister acted too much like a studious herbivore for his liking. It wasn't as if she didn't have one of the highest grades in her year. But, he smirked, it didn't truly matter because she was a carnivore at heart, as was expected of a Hibari, even if she liked playing the harmlessly polite piranha in the school of weak, helpless fish for her own amusement and benefit.
As expected, as soon as he came within fifteen feet of her, Masami's eyes darted up, her position changing subtly to allow for both offensive and defensive measures at the slightest hint of threat, a fan suddenly innocuously tapping against the table. "Greetings, Onii-san," she said with a soft smile and a dip of her head. "What brings you here?"
Kyoya hardly enjoyed visiting bookstores.
"Hn. You will join the Disciplinary Committee tomorrow in the gym of Namimori Middle at the break of dawn." It came out as more of a statement than an order or a question.
There was a beat of silence as she considered. He waited for her to agree, not patiently but not impatiently either, because for all that his sister didn't much appreciate responsibility outside of what she chose for herself, she would concede if he asked.
"Hmm...alright," she said finally with an almost convincingly light tone. "How are the novices doing? Have they caught up to your standards yet?" The delinquents that Kyoya had persuaded—threatened—into his Committee had been pitiful the last time she saw them. Easy prey.
He grunted disdainfully, sitting down in a free chair across from her. "No, they remain pathetic herbivores. You can start remedial training with them later."
Masami was far more patient than Kyoya was—she could endure the sad state of his subordinates long enough to drill some backbone into them. And, more importantly, she actually liked making something worth looking at of weak herbivores.
Or rather, she had a hobby of making useful things out of useless things. It wasn't always herbivores; in fact, most of the time, it wasn't herbivores. Since childhood, it had been plucking wildflowers and creating bouquets. It had been embroidering kimonos and producing works of art from paint and canvas.
Masami was the type of person who delighted in taking something and making it more.
It wasn't until she had found Sawada Tsunayoshi that she'd added herbivores to her list of projects. Kyoya still wasn't sure what was so special about that ridiculously fluffy herbivore, but it wasn't his time that was being wasted. If she thought she could make a carnivore out of a herbivore, then he would watch her try.
"Hai, hai," Masami said despite the well-hidden glimmer of hesitation in her eyes, her distracting smile so innocuous that anyone who truly knew her would run off screaming like a hunted goose. "Well, I'm sure tomorrow will be a very interesting day."
Tetsuya closed the door behind him and observed the men in uniform, lined up in ranks along the wall, with pitying eyes, which he carefully concealed behind cool pragmatism and dull professionalism. These poor prefects were going to get a shock today, but hopefully they would live through it.
What didn't kill you made you stronger, right?
Or maybe it was what didn't kill you went after you with a pair of tonfa and bit you to death.
Something like that. Maybe his time with the Hibari siblings had distorted his view of the world a bit. Just a bit.
Striding out to stand in front of them, Tetsuya noted the military posture and stoic faces with a nod of approval. Maybe they would survive after all. Then again, this was Hibari Masami, and there was just no predicting her.
"Men," he started out formally, clasping his hands behind his back, "I have called you here today so that we can meet the newest member of the Disciplinary Committee of Namimori Middle School."
No murmurs, no whispers, though there were a few glances here and there. Good. They were learning self-control. Kyoya expected no less and would accept no less.
"If I may introduce..." He turned towards the closed doors of the gym, gesturing with his arm. "...Masami."
Right on cue, the door was pushed open and a familiar girl glided in, her expression mostly covered by her fan. But Tetsuya—and probably only Tetsuya, seeing as Kyoya wasn't here yet—could see the laughter in those eyes as Masami took in the gobsmacked looks on his subordinates' face
He knew what they were seeing: a petite girl with flowers in her hair, waving around a delicate fan, and dressed in a deep blue yukata, looking ever so innocent and sweet. A little angel, really.
Finally, one of the veterans in the group, Yachi, deigned to speak up, his face so blank it only served to frame the disbelief in his blue eyes. "T-This is our new recruit, Kusakabe-sempai?" he questioned incredulously.
Her laughter chimed in the air as she stepped forward to stand beside Tetsuya and bowed. "Yes. Greetings, everyone. Please take good care of me."
Tetsuya and Masami were then promptly treated to the amusing show of hardcore former-delinquents, gruff and violent and manly, gaping at them openly with their heads tilted to the side, question marks hanging over them.
The second-in-command coughed awkwardly into his fist when the silence stretched out a bit too long and hustled the prefects away from more staring before Kyoya busted through the door and bit them all to death for disrespecting his sister.
Not that the men currently knew that.
"Ahem. Alright, Ibu, Kamisaka, and Tsuga, get up here." He pointed at the individuals as he singled them out, all relatively new and certain to underestimate their new associate. "Spar with Masami." Tetsuya inwardly winced at his own disrespect, but it was for the greater good, he assured himself.
Besides, Masami herself had agreed to the ruse, if only because it meant she would get to have some fun with her unfortunate dance partners. Kyoya was a different matter, but he couldn't know, could he?
Tetsuya swallowed and decided not to push his luck.
"Eeeh?" Kamisaka, a decent fellow all things considered but a bit chauvinistic, scratched at his hair. "You sure, sempai? All three of us? I mean, she is new and all..."
"Yeah, she wouldn't last a second...no offense or anything," Tsuga tacked on sheepishly with an apologetic glance at the girl in question, who merely hid her thoughts behind her fan.
Ibu didn't say anything but arched his eyebrows and looked Masami up and down with poorly concealed skepticism. If nothing else, he was definitely going to receive an education today.
"No talking back," Tetsuya reprimanded sternly. "Get up here."
The three boys grumbled and groused but broke formation to surround Masami as Tetsuya backed off. Masami snapped her fan shut and smiled, honey-sweet, stashing her conspicuous weapon away so quickly no one was quite sure where it went.
"Hey," Kamisaka said, raising his hands with a pacifying grin. "No hard feelings, alright? Think of it as hazing."
"Shut up," Tsuga muttered to his friend from the corner of his mouth. "That's not reassuring."
"We'll go easy on you," Ibu conceded, smiling at the girl in an attempt to comfort her.
Masami simply covered her giggles with her hand as if by habit. "Shall we dance then?"
While the three were preoccupied with looking stupid by standing there in confusion, Tetsuya snorted and called out, "Start!" The wretched boys wouldn't know what had hit them.
And, of course, he was all-too-right.
Kamisaka moved first, the hotheaded fool, rushing in with a fist cocked back but a clear hesitation in his stance. He obviously didn't want to hit the pretty, dainty girl too hard.
Sadly for him, she had no similar reservations. As soon as he was within range, Masami weaved under the punch agilely and swept his legs out from under him, sending him sprawling to the floor with a wide-eyed gasp.
Before Tsuga or Ibu had even had a chance to recover from their surprise, she was on them, not giving them so much as a second to process the startling turn of events. A flip of her arm allowed Tsuga to join his friend and a strike to Ibu's solar plexus brought him down as well.
As fights went, this one was woefully anti-climatic. It had taken a total of around fifteen seconds.
The silence in the gym echoed. For a brief moment, Tetsuya reveled in the quiet. The Hibari siblings were very good at causing it, he noted wryly.
Tetsuya looked at the remaining men with a purposefully bland face, noting their pale, sweaty faces with gleeful amusement. "Any other objections to Masami?" he demanded.
"No, sir," came the unified reply as the prefects stared at the previously harmless-looking girl with a great deal of nervousness, a good sprinkling of fear, and a touch of awe.
"Good. Now, Yachi, Arishima, Odaka, you're up."
Approximately five minutes later, every single prefect, barring Tetsuya, was lying flat on their backs on the hard floor, staring distantly at the bright lights. They must have been quite captivating. Standing right smack in the middle, Masami's playful smile had never faltered.
"Perhaps a bit more practice before stepping on the dance floor again?" was all she murmured, her fan showing up out of nowhere to air herself, casually taking no notice of the wrecked ego her every victim now sported.
"Wao. Masami, I see you've been having fun." A low, amused voice spoke up from the door, prompting the prefects to stiffen and haul themselves to their feet to salute at light-speed.
Tetsuya himself blinked and almost jumped two feet in the air despite his extensive experience regarding this very scenario. Really, they were like cats. "Kyoya-san!" Leaning casually against the door frame from where he had been watching for who-knows-how-long, the Head of the Disciplinary Committee looked somewhat sleepy.
He'd probably been taking a nap then.
Cats.
Meanwhile, Masami visibly brightened and flowed around the tall, intimidating men she had just beaten into the ground to bow to Kyoya with a faint smile. "Greetings, Onii-san."
A shocked kind of horror filled the faces of every prefect in sight, their muscles locking together to prevent any kind of unknown movement in the devastating situation they now found themselves in. Tetsuya swallowed down his laughter.
"...'Onii-san'...?" Okada repeated in a whisper, swaying slightly on his feet. He looked a tad green.
Ibu gulped heavily, licking his lips. "President...then she is...?"
"What." Yachi's voice was impressively monotone.
"Ah, I suppose I forgot to mention," Tetsuya said, feigning innocence as much as he was able to, although he wasn't nearly as skilled as Masami. His eyes were shadowed but glinting. "Masami-san's full name is Hibari Masami, and she is Kyoya-san's younger sister by two years. My bad."
Kamisaka, who had only just recovered from his beating, fell back, eyes rolling into the back of his head, and fainted like an innocent maiden exposed to blood for the very first time.
Tsuga quickly chose to follow his friend's example, even as the newly-revealed fact soothed his wounded pride. No wonder he had lost; it was his Boss' sister.
The look Kyoya saw fit to give them all was blatantly unamused. "Enough crowding," he orderedy, tonfa appearing in hand. "Or I'll bite you all to death."
The prefects obligingly scattered before the wrath of the Skylark could strike, Ibu frantically dragging Kamisaka and Tsuga's bodies out of the gym with the help of considerate Arishima.
"Hmm." Masami blew out a breath slowly and laughed. "That went nicely."
After that, Masami's induction into the Disciplinary Committee went remarkably well, her position as Kyoya's new left-hand accepted with little to no fuss. No prefect had the guts to argue against their President...plus, she had kicked their asses, and they all knew it.
Strength was respect in their group, a philosophy that had most likely originated unwittingly from Kyoya. After getting over the shock that their revered President had a sister—and why hadn't they heard about this before!?—no prefect had denied that Masami was more than suitable for the position she'd been given.
It wasn't as if Kyoya would have listened to any protests anyway, much less any that were disrespectful to his sister. He would have just bitten the herbivore to death and gone on to do exactly what he'd planned. That was simply the way their Boss was.
As the self-proclaimed third-in-command—even though Tetsuya deferred to her—Masami easily took charge of the paperwork, filing, information gathering, and other formalities. She was the one who went around sorting all the regular reports they received into something coherent and then giving it to Kyoya.
Unknown to the prefects, the siblings were actually somewhat surprised by how fast she took to the desk work. When questioned by Kyoya, Masami had merely shrugged and said that it seemed straightforward and easy to her. He'd nodded and promptly redirected the majority of his work to her.
She'd accepted with a smile and a glint in her eyes. Needless to say, that week, the motorcycle was hers and their meals consisted of far too much dango for sanity's sake. She was an expert at passive-aggressive retribution.
Not that Masami didn't know how to keep Kyoya happy. She was well aware of how the President's mind worked and how he liked things. There had been a decent decrease in violent incidents caused by Kyoya with the addition of coffee, hamburger steaks, and chocolate in the office.
Actually, the general consensus among the prefects was that the last one was for the girl herself, especially after a long day of bending over stacks and stacks of forms, but no one was foolish enough to say that.
As the pseudo accountant/manager/diplomat, Masami kept things moving smoothly, acted as the polite, well-received buffer between the prefects and authorities, while Tetsuya dealt with the student body and all of their problems.
It was a good working relationship, all things considered. The school population was certainly pleased and relieved.
But, more than all that, the first round of business that Kyoya assigned to Masami was to train the prefects. Correctly. And if any of them had any delusions about their new superior being kinder than their boss because she looked like it, none of those delusions survived their first training—torture—session.
Oh, the worst of ironies for this Spartan princess to be called an angel by the school staff and considered a sweet, respectful girl by the majority of the town.
Not that it could be said the prefects of Namimori didn't like Hibari Masami. As with the President and Kusakabe-sempai, she had their loyalty and respect. It just so happened that Masami was unpredictable and held enough sway in their lives that they were also wholly terrified.
"Masami-sama!" Kamisaka cried as he collapsed to the floor. "Forgive me, but I can't go on anymore!"
"That's great, Kamisaka-san!" Masami clapped her hands lightly, smile soft. "Forty more push ups, please."
Had the prefects interacted with Sawada Tsunayoshi, they would have immediately bonded with the fluffy boy over shared trauma at the hands of their trainer—i.e. tormentor from the deepest layer of hell.
The very first thing Masami did when she stepped foot into Namimori Middle was establish her place in Kyoya's Discipline Committee. It went well, as she'd expected, so she crossed that off of her list.
The second thing Masami did was scout out the school. She walked down every hallway, peered discreetly through every classroom, and generally explored every nook and cranny. By lunch, she had a perfect mental blueprint of the building, along with certain renovations that could be useful later on.
If there had been anyone with the intention of reminding her that this was against the rules, as school hadn't yet started, her new uniform had very nicely cut them off.
Since the Disciplinary Committee had been originally composed of all male members, there hadn't been a female uniform before her arrival, meaning Masami was free to decide what she wanted to wear so long as Kyoya approved in the end.
So, in accordance with her sense of fashion and some input from Kyoko and Hana, Masami had eventually decided on a white blouse with a black tie, a black pleated skirt, knee-high black socks, and black heeled boots. It was suitably comfortable and professional.
It had been drilled into her from childhood that first impressions were important. Accordingly, Masami went to all of her classes on the first week of school and firmly reinforced the idea of the perfect, angelic student with impeccable manners and top grades.
After that, it would be up to her whether or not she needed to attend a particular class. She still did for most of them, since education was important and she could always complete her duties before and after school, but she quite enjoyed the ability to choose.
The third thing Masami did was reject a male student. Which...pardon?
Not long after the beginning of the school year, she was confessed to for the first, but sadly not the last, time. Thankfully, it was in private, as she didn't know how she would have reacted to a public declaration—it would have been bad—but it remained a highly disturbing event.
She couldn't fathom what that boy had been thinking.
With the firm resolution to never allow Kyoya to hear a peep of the incident, Masami set off to find Kyoko and Hana for some explanations and advice. At the very least, Kyoko was the school's new idol, so she should know how to deal with such things, Masami reasoned.
"Hmm? Masa-chan, is something wrong?" Kyoko asked with a kind smile when the new prefect joined the two over lunch, discreetly scaring away all their other friends with a cool look. She tolerated the nickname; it wasn't so bad for what she got in return.
"An unfamiliar boy came up to me yesterday and confessed his undying devotion," Masami deadpanned cordially with a bemused shake of her head. "I'm afraid I simply don't understand, Sasagawa-san. I've never even talked to him before."
"Tch, hormonal teenage boys with crushes aren't really logical, Masa," Hana pointed out, rolling her eyes. "You turned him down, right?" Nothing less would fit with her sky high standards.
"Yes, I did," Masami said instantly. Granted, she had been polite, but still. "Higashi-san would never have survived Onii-san." The boy had run off crying, but it was a much more preferable outcome than the bloody homicide that would have occurred when Kyoya found out. Which he wouldn't. Ever.
"Good girl." Hana nodded approvingly, picking at her soba. "But, I gotta say, he probably isn't the only one with a massive crush on you. If you acted just a little bit nicer, half of the stupid monkeys in our class would be fighting over you."
Masami stared at her in horror. "...please, please tell me you're joking." That much attention would be terribly stifling, crowding as Onii-san would say. She wasn't even interested in any of the fumbling boys in their school. Most of them couldn't carry a decent conversation with her for more than five minutes.
Hana smirked evilly. "Sorry, but no. That outfit of yours makes you stand out and you're one of the prettiest girls in our grade. Boys like to think you're playing hard to get so that only encourages them. The only reason most of them haven't approached you before is because of that brother of yours."
Eyes blank, Masami turned to Kyoko, who had been listening to the conversation with an amused smile. "Is this true, Sasagawa-san?"
Kyoko winced, looking slightly apologetic despite all three of them knowing she had her own personal fan club. "Ah...hai, Masa-chan. I would just ignore it if I were you. I mean, if someone confesses to you and you don't like him, just turn him down nicely. It's not so bad. Really."
Masami arched a slender eyebrow. Was it honestly that simple? She found the very idea of confessions at this age disconcerting. They were in middle school. And she was only a first-year for that matter.
"Besides, your freak of a brother has a bigger fan club." Hana snorted.
"...what."
Three months into the school year and Masami was back in her favorite bookstore, watching Tsunayoshi occasionally run past on his daily training through the window. She had been none too happy to find out he'd grown lazy during her absence in the summer and doubled his training regimen as punishment.
"Masami-san...I'm...done..."
She glanced up idly as her classmate dragged himself into the bookstore, sweaty and breathless, the rest of the regulars so used to the antics of the two that they carried on with their business without missing a beat. "Sawada-san. Good job."
Tsunayoshi grinned tiredly, but there was a glint of satisfaction in his eyes. Masami didn't withhold compliments as some teachers did, but neither did she withhold criticism, and she knew he basked in the few times she expressed her approval.
"Please feel free to return home," Masami offered, turning a page in her book of French history.
"Hiieee?" Tsunayoshi furrowed his brow, frowning. "But Masami-san, you never let me go with just this amount of torture."
"Take the opportunity if it is offered," she lectured gently, unperturbed by his reference to her training methods. "Go home and rest."
Still looking confused, Tsunayoshi nodded and bade her goodbye, looking briefly at the sky with worry before jogging back home.
Masami rubbed her upper arms absently and observed the darkened sky as well, thoughtful and reflective. "A storm's coming..." she murmured to herself, taking a sip of chamomile tea. Her eyes flickered to the road for a moment, before she pulled her attention back to her book.
Naturally, the next day, Tsunayoshi didn't come to school.
Tsuna was...happy.
He wasn't dame anymore, he had a (sorta) friend, and he was good enough to actually spar with said friend for five minutes without being knocked back into the dirt. His grades were okay, he could pass the ball more often than not in gym, and his mother's smile could outshine the sun.
Sure, now that Masami was a prefect, sometimes she had to cut their lunches together short and maybe she had been distracted lately and she didn't always come to class either, but he stayed firm in his belief that there was no way he had earned enough bad karma for this.
"Ciaossu. I arrived three hours early, but as a service, I'll evaluate you now."
"Hey, whose kid are you?"
"Hm? I'm Reborn, the home tutor."
Tsuna stared at the fedora-wearing, dark-eyed, suitcase-toting baby on his doorstep and unwittingly shivered. He had no idea what was going on—why had his mom answered the flyer anyway? His grades had improved nicely over the years, thank you very much; must have been because it was free—but this...this aura, this feeling was familiar.
Sadly.
This was no regular baby, Tsuna decided immediately. Somehow, despite the fact that there was no resemblance at all, this...Reborn reminded him of Masami. Not ordinary, chilly polite, sweetly distant Masami, but the Hibari Masami who had destroyed a yakuza base by herself in under an hour.
'Dangerous,' he thought.
"Oh, my!" Nana exclaimed when Tsuna did nothing but stare blankly at his new so-called tutor. "What do you think, Tsu-kun?"
"...I don't need a tutor," Tsuna said at last when the baby turned pitch black eyes on him.
"So you're Tsuna," Reborn said, looking up at the teen calmly.
"Yeah, um, thanks for coming, but it's not nec—Hiiee!" Instincts taking over, Tsuna veered back just as a small foot would have kicked him in the stomach. Tsuna gaped at the baby—that would have been painful! "What was that for?!"
Reborn gazed at him with a pensive look that looked entirely out of place on a baby's face. "Looks like you're not as useless as I expected," he commented dispassionately. "Come on, we're talking in your room, Dame-Tsuna."
"How do you even know that nickname?!" Tsuna questioned while he struggled to keep up with Reborn as the baby climbed the steps confidently. No one had called him that in years. "Who the heck are you anyways?!"
"I told you, I'm Reborn, your tutor." The baby stopped in the middle of Tsuna's bedroom and smiled, snapping open his suitcase to reveal parts of a gun, one that he quickly put together. "But my true line of work is assassination."
Tsuna regularly spent time with Masami, the acknowledged 'Angel' of Namimori Middle. His one and only friend was also the little sister of Hibari, the Chairman of the Disciplinary Committee. As such, he had slowly grown accustomed to violent, strange, traumatizing proceedings against his will.
But... "Assassination," he repeated, still a bit too shocked to feel real horror yet. Tsuna had to admit this took the cake. And maybe the six-course dinner.
Reborn nodded, turning the gun to aim at Tsuna. "My real job is to make you a mafia boss."
Tsuna froze, heart sinking. His first coherent thought was, 'Masami-san is going to kill me.' His second coherent thought was, 'What is it with the gun!?' His third coherent thought was, 'No way in hell. Or out of it.'
Because, even with all of Masami's training and pushing to be more assertive, he wasn't. Not really. Not normally. But this was—this was blood and crime and everything that instinct and moral told him was wrong, and if nothing else, Masami had taught him how to set boundaries through example.
"What are you talking about?!" Tsuna demanded.
The hitman only blinked at him. "I was assigned by a certain man to train you to become an astounding mafia boss."
"Wait, wait, wait. Hold up!" Tsuna waved his hands in front of him in the time-out gesture. "Who's this 'certain man'? Mafia boss of what? Who are you!?"
"The 'who' isn't important right now," Reborn told him. "You're going to be the Vongola Decimo, the head of the largest, most powerful famiglia of Italy. And I'm the home tutor who's going to get you there."
Tsuna narrowed his eyes and shook his head firmly. He didn't care how dangerous this baby was or what he might do. His life had finally been going his way for once, and he didn't have any intention of letting some stranger change that. "Nu-uh. I'm sorry, but I'm not going to become a mafia boss and nothing you say or do is going to change that."
"We'll see," was all Reborn said ominously.
Masami heard the rumors first.
"Did you heard? Sawada..."
"He confessed to Kyoko-chan!"
"In his boxers!"
"I hear Mochida-senpai's angry!"
"Well, of course! How could Sawada touch our idol?!"
"Do you think there'll be a fight?"
"I guess he's dame after all."
"For the crime of crowding, I'll bite you all to death."
"EEEEKKK, WE'RE SO SORRY, HIBARI-SAN!"
Masami paused and pursed her lips as Kyoya went after the chattering gossipers. She had known of Tsunayoshi's crush on Kyoko for a long time, but for him to act on it was unusual for the boy she'd met with yesterday. Much less in a haggard state of undress. She liked to think she'd taught him better than that.
Tilting her head, Masami tracked down Kyoko for the real story. "Greetings, Sasagawa-san," she said when she found her friend in an empty corridor, bowing shallowly.
Kyoko smiled brightly, turning to face her. "Masa-chan! Good morning! Is there something wrong? I thought you had to do your disciplinary duties in the morning."
In the afternoon and night, too, but that wasn't the point. "Well, I've been hearing some rumors, so would you please clarify them for me?" Masami asked.
"Ah..." Kyoko blinked, frowned pensively. "Is this about Tsuna-kun?"
"Yes. If it's not too uncomfortable, would you please recount your experience?" Moving to lean against the window, Masami glanced past the glass absently, taking in the crowds her brother would doubtlessly destroy in a few minutes.
"Alright!" she agreed easily, scrunching up her face in thought. "Let's see...when I was walking to school this morning, I caught a glimpse of Tsuna-kun and the cute baby following him around."
"Cute baby?" Tsunayoshi was an only child, as far as Masami knew.
"Mm-hm. I think his name was Reborn." Kyoko giggled. "He was playing at being in the mafia. It was so adorable!"
"I see." Masami was near certain she had heard the name "Reborn" somewhere, but she would take care of that later. Any mention of the Mafia, with Tsunayoshi's heritage, was most likely actually true. How troublesome.
"Right, so, after that, Tsuna-kun came running in from out of nowhere and asked me to go out with him. It was really weird," Kyoko recounted, frowning a bit. "He was only in his underwear. He never acts like that in class."
Masami narrowed her eyes. Strange behavior, strange baby, strange appearance. Hmm. "Perhaps he was simply out of sorts today," she offered. "Sick...or possibly delirious."
"You think so?" Kyoko perked up, looking relieved.
"I'll ask him later," Masami promised, adjusting her skirt. "The bell's going to ring soon, so I'll see you later, alright, Sasagawa-san? Thank you for telling me about your day."
"Aww, it was no problem, Masa-chan!" Beaming, Kyoko went off to her first class of the day, waving enthusiastically at Masami until she turned the corner and met up with Hana.
Masami waved back and proceeded to quietly excused herself from class to place a phone call on the rooftop.
"Greetings, Otou-san." It had been five months since she had last talked to her father.
"Masami. What is it?" Satoshi's voice out deep and calm, as familiar as ever.
"What do you know about a baby named 'Reborn?'"
There was a tense pause. "Reborn, you say?"
"Correct."
"Reborn is the Greatest Hitman in the World, also known as the Sun Arcobaleno."
Masami blinked. "...like Fon-san?"
"Yes."
She thought about why a hitman would be in Tsunayoshi's company. "Would he be allied to any particular Mafia family?"
"He's a freelance hitman, but he has strong connections with the Vongola."
Well. Masami fiddled with her gunsen absently, closing her eyes in contemplation. "I see. Thank you, Otou-san."
"Be careful, Masami. Reborn is not someone you want to mess around with." Satoshi didn't ask what in the world she was doing asking about the infamous hitman in the first place, and she was grateful.
"I will." Flipping her phone shut, she turned to face her brother, who was leaning against the wall behind her with a frown. How he had found out, she didn't want to know. "A carnivore's in town."
That got Kyoya's attention. "Tell me more," he said, eyes narrowing in a mixture of excitement and possessiveness. Namimori was his town. He might share with Masami, but anyone else would get bitten to death.
She told him, and when she was done, mentioned, "I'll probably be late to school tomorrow. Apologies."
Kyoya nodded curtly and turned to leave. "The baby's my opponent, Masami."
"Wait," Masami requested, looking up at the sky. It was clear today, bright blue and filled with light. "Just until I know what's going on, please."
"...fine." Disappearing down the stairs, Kyoya made off to patrol the hallways, Masami right behind him in her quest to tackle the paperwork. Today would be long and boring.
Not that it could possibly compensate for the chaos that would doubtlessly follow.
Sawada Tsunayoshi wasn't at all what Reborn had been expecting. Wimpy, pathetic, stupid, and a Dame to the core had been what the reports said. Iemitsu had been of the opinion his "tunafishie" was shy, fluffy, weak, stuttering, and cute. To turn this boy into a mafia boss, the spies had concluded disdainfully, would take a miracle.
Reborn made a note to tear apart and then fire those same spies later. They were clearly deluded and incompetent. As for the boy's missing, idiotic father, well...Iemitsu would need a more...specialized kind of punishment.
Even if the accounts had been right once upon a time, Tsunayoshi had changed. For one, Tsuna had been more wary than disbelieving when meeting a baby hitman, intriguingly perceptive to the point that he had noticed that Reborn was no ordinary infant right away.
His grades were decently above average, a noticeable increase starting from fifth grade, according to the school records. His reflexes were far better than anticipated—the brat had even been able to dodge some of the shots Reborn had fired at him, purely on instinct.
It could be the Hyper Intuition acting up, but just because the mind knew didn't mean the body could follow. Tsuna wasn't in any clubs or sports, so either he exercised for some unknown reason or he'd been through some sort of training.
More than all of that, he'd had the nerve to argue against Reborn, conviction aglow in his eyes, face mulishly-set, that no, he wasn't going to be a mafia boss no matter what, and that was that.
Not that Reborn would listen to Tsuna in truth—it was his mission and he didn't ever fail missions—but it was somewhat impressive nonetheless.
Sawada Tsunayoshi wasn't quite the useless, helpless idiot that Reborn had been led to believe he was.
"Hieeee! How am I going to face Kyoko-chan today?!" Tsuna gripped at his head, tugging at his hair violently.
But he was still an idiot. Apparently, that impressive will only showed up when someone was threatening to drown his future in murder and sin. Shame. "Hiding is not mafia boss behavior."
"I told you, I don't want to be a mafia boss! And I'm not going to hide either!"
"Greetings, Sawada-san," came the greeting directly from behind Tsuna.
"Hiiieeeee!" He jumped three feet into the air and whirled around, eyes wide. "Masami-san!"
Unconcerned, Reborn turned to face the newcomer as well, having sensed the other's presence a minute ago. Few professionals could hide from the World's Greatest Hitman. A middle school student stood no chance at all.
Hibari Masami stared down at him with steel gray eyes, dressed in a formal black and white outfit that didn't match Namimori Middle's uniform. She held herself with an air of dignity , her fan—a gunsen, the "decorations" capable of slicing a man into shreds—hiding the bottom half of her face.
Reborn identified her as Tsuna's sole friend, a well-liked girl with a seemingly flawless record. A member of the Disciplinary Committee, her grades were excellent with no extra-curricular activities. An ordinary civilian with a bright, lawful future ahead of her, untouched by the darker aspects of her family's activities...or so it seemed.
It was a good thing Reborn only believed what he saw with his own two eyes.
Because this girl was trained in reconnaissance, in observation. Her eyes were too sharp, her steps too soft, her bearing too confident. Her frame was slender, but her muscles were strong, conditioned from strenuous use. She was so poised, so still. This wasn't the look of someone innocent of a family of assassins and killers, power and justice, men of steel and women of blades. This wasn't the look of a citizen looking forward to becoming a veterinarian.
It seemed Tsuna had already drawn in a fascinating individual. He wondered if she had any Flame Potential.
"And your companion happens to be...?" Masami inquired delicately, eyes flicking momentarily to his student...who had straightened up from his slouch, as if the girl's mere presence had been enough to insert a titanium backbone into the boy. Interesting.
"Ciaossu," Reborn chirped without giving Tsuna time to say anything. "I am Reborn, the Vongola Hitman, and Dame-Tsuna's home tutor."
'Now...how will Hibari Masami react?' he thought to himself, tuning out Tsuna's horrified stare. 'Will she dismiss me as a child playing pretend as normal people do or...?'
"Is that so?" Masami bowed, smiling faintly. "Greetings, my name is Hibari Masami. Please take good care of me."
Not a trace of disbelief or indulgence, Reborn noted, dipping his fedora in return. She'd talked to him as if to an equal with all the respect that deserved. It had been a very long time since someone not in the know had done that.
"If I may ask," she said, attention on Reborn, the foreign baby and not Tsuna, the teenage friend, "what are you tutoring Sawada-san in? I was under the impression that his grades were sufficient for the time being."
Reborn didn't miss the sharp look Masami sent Tsuna—as if to say they had better be sufficient or else—nor Tsuna frantically shaking his head in denial. So, she had been the one to motivate his student before? And judging from the slight apprehension in Tsuna's eyes, her ways had not been purely kind by society's standards.
The hitman approved. Sorely.
He contemplated whether or not he should tell the truth—he was fairly certain she would believe him—but the girl was smart. She would figure it out eventually, and with his uncertain, clumsy student evidently both daunted by her and fond of her, it would be child's play to wiggle the truth out of Tsuna if she so wished.
"It's my job to train Tsuna to become the Vongola Decimo," Reborn declared. "The head of the largest, strongest mafia famiglia in Italy."
Tsuna choked and went pale as he froze and stared in dread at Masami, who merely blinked, eyes tightening minutely. "Reborn! You can't say things like that in broad daylight!" he yelled. "M-Masami-san—"
Masami turned to pin her gaze on Tsuna, no rebuke, dubiety, or condemnation on what was visible of her face, but a certain exacting element to her gaze. "Are you saying he's lying to me, Sawada-san?"
Tsuna's jaw dropped to the ground, his eyes dashing from his tutor to his classmate and then back. It was a clear lose-lose situation for the boy. If he lied and said yes, Reborn would put him through hell, and Tsuna knew it. If he told the truth and said no...
That would just open a new can of worms. Which was exactly what Reborn had intended from the start. Tsuna needed to learn how to navigate these types of situations.
"Err...uhh...no...?" Tsuna managed weakly, grimacing. A mistake, the hitman thought at once, a mafia boss should never show weakness, but before Reborn could...ahem, correct his new charge, he was beaten to it.
The fan was snapped shut and introduced to the back of Tsuna's skull with a speed and precision that Reborn could appreciate. Tsuna went down with a screech that sounded more resigned than anything, hitting pavement with a thud.
"Please keep your head up and refrain from hesitation, Sawada-san," Masami demurred, walking past the quietly watching Reborn and the fallen Tsuna, dangling kanzashi flowers swaying in the wind. "Also, mafia boss or not, at this rate, you will be late to class."
Hmm, so she'd accepted the truth, after all, and with an impressive lack of fanfare and fuss...and in doing so, accepted Tsuna himself. Reborn would have to keep a close eye on her. Such potential wasn't at all frequent, and Tsuna would need Guardians.
"Wait!" Tsuna called, scrambling to his feet, the speed with which he recovered informing the hitman that this was a common occurrence. His face was painted with mingled apprehension and hope. "You mean you don't mind?"
"We have already discussed the issue of sheep mentality," Masami tossed back evenly, "so I don't believe there is no reason to revisit it. The bell will ring in five minutes, and unlike me, I doubt Onii-san will take your tardiness kindly."
Tsuna squeaked and started sprinting. An older brother? This would bear investigating, but all things considered, Reborn decided as he walked after his student at a much slower pace, the morning was getting off to a wonderful start.
Masami watched the so-called "duel" between Mochida and Tsunayoshi from the back of the room, concealed by shadow and ignorance. As a prefect, she supposed she should break it up, but she'd really rather observe silently.
Displaying such negative behavior would have been bad for her reputation anyways.
To her slight gratification, her sort-of student didn't run from the match, most likely knowing that if he had, he would receive a beating from either Reborn or Masami, whoever got to him first. Pragmatic behavior was acceptable, but taking the coward's way out was not.
"Do you think he'll win?" The baby who had shown up two minutes ago spoke from his position on her shoulder, sounding more detached than worried.
"It's highly possible," Masami allowed reluctantly. "If he keeps a cool head and doesn't panic, he should be fine." Although, that armor that those two students were lugging forward was...odd. Unbalanced.
"You've been training him, haven't you?"
"For the past three years. If he loses, would you mind giving him my regards?" In the most appropriate way possible. Mochida might be the Captain of the Kendo Club, but he was hardly, hardly a proper dance partner, especially with the level Tsunayoshi should be at by now.
"Of course." Reborn sounded more or less delighted to do so. "It's hardly proper behavior for a mafia boss to lose."
"...Mochida-san's cheating," Masami commented when Tsunayoshi almost collapsed to the ground after donning the armor.
"That armor is far too heavy for Dame-Tsuna, yes."
"Weight training later, perhaps?"
"I'll take care of it."
"The judge...is also a member of the kendo club."
"Favoritism then." Reborn shrugged, stroking the back of his chameleon. "This'll be a good test for him."
Tsunayoshi put up a decent show, Masami admitted, despite his handicaps. He was able to block Mochida's hits and even got a few blows in himself, not that it mattered since the judge refused to raise the flag for him.
"It's time," the hitman suddenly proclaimed, a gun appearing in his hands. "He needs to die."
He was losing, perhaps a minute away from being humiliated in front of the entire class—and even if he did, Masami would teach Mochida a lesson later about calling Kyoko a prize—but she tensed nonetheless.
No one, not even the Greatest Hitman in the World, was allowed to kill Tsunayoshi.
The only reason she kept herself from interfering promptly via tessen was because she knew Tsunayoshi was also Vongola's new Heir. It wouldn't do for him to be murdered by his tutor. Still, she said, low and almost offhand, "Die?"
"It won't be permanent," Reborn chirped and shot Tsunayoshi in the head.
It happened fast. There was a spurt of blood, a thump as he fell to the floor and the room exploded into chaos...and then he was leaping to his feet, his clothes and armor disintegrating, and shouting at the top of his lungs about how he would defeat Mochida.
"...please explain," Masami requested as Tsunayoshi charged forward, forgoing grace for a headlong rush that resulted in Mochida's bokken breaking and a devastating head-butt. Which was...effective, if utterly crude and klutzy.
"That was the Dying Will Bullet," Reborn said while Tsunayoshi ripped a handful of hair off of Mochida's head, the judge, of course, not giving him the point. "If someone regrets while they die, they are reborn in Dying Will Mode."
She connected the explanation to Kyoko's story easily, mentally face-palming at the thought that his last regret had been being unable to confess properly. Said boy was kicking Mochida in the chest at the moment. "And that is...?"
"Dying Will Mode switches off a person's safety limiters in exchange for them risking their life, granting them great strength, power, and invulnerability. For five minutes." According to the clock, three minutes and twenty seconds had already passed.
She eyeballed the stunning orange flame on Tsunayoshi's forehead with deliberation, wondering if she would have to warn her brother that the school might burn down. "There are no consequences?" In all the stories, power necessitated a trade-off.
"Not for now," Reborn said as Mochida abruptly turned bald and bawled his eyes out. Perhaps Tsunayoshi had been affected by her nonchalant ruthlessness? Or was it this "Dying Will Mode"? "Later, there will be."
"Lethal?"
"I won't let Dame-Tsuna die. It's my job to see him become a magnificent mafia boss and he can't become the Vongola Decimo if he's a corpse." A reasonable justification, one that she would accept for the time being.
"Thank you for the clarification." Masami rose to her feet, Reborn jumping off with ease. "Would you please inform Sawada-san he is to come over for tea on Saturday at two o'clock? I'm sure you already know where I live."
"Certainly. He'll be there."
"Goodbye, Reborn-san."
"Ciao ciao."
As she left through the side exits, Masami noticed a flash of green from the corner of her eyes.
Masami sat on a zabuton in front of the chabudai, sipping black tea in a white kimono with silver embroidery. The familiar ritual was comforting as she thought about the recent developments.
Tsunayoshi had been hit with the Dying Will Bullet again, this time because he had been dragged into the Volleyball Tournament. He had grown much stronger than the weak boy in fifth grade, but to jump that high was still out of his reach.
The Vongola Decimo...
Even though she had been aware of Sawada Iemitsu's true position and job, she'd never expected Tsunayoshi, civilian, pacifist, and fluffy, to become so directly involved with the Mafia, much less be the Heir to the Vongola. It was nearly alarming.
Despite Tsunayoshi's vehement protests, Masami could see that Reborn had no intention of listening and would complete his mission with whatever means necessary. The baby hitman was a very good dancer, much better than they were at the moment.
She had caught on to that fact almost immediately, one of the many reasons she had chosen not to interfere with whatever he had planned, despite her own possessive nature. Yes, Masami had claimed Tsunayoshi as hers a long time ago, hers to train and protect and mold, but she could be a graceful loser.
There was no need to get in a dance she couldn't win and potentially drag her brother and family into the mess as well, especially since the baby didn't mean Tsunayoshi any (permanent) harm.
Masami knew what she had managed to make the boy into in the span of three relatively peaceful years. She would see what this cursed baby could make the boy into with the help of chaos and true danger.
So, she would step aside and watch and occasionally assist, all the while knowing Sawada Tsunayoshi would either die or eventually become Vongola Decimo. He might burn the syndicate to the ground in the end because his morals were just that unshakable, but the ascension would happen first.
And what would that mean for her? She was no fool; she knew that Reborn's interest had been piqued. In the whole of Namimori, she was probably the second best dancer with her brother as the best.
A mafia boss needed subordinates. And Masami was Tsunayoshi's friend, if not mentor, confidant, and advocate. It wasn't hard to see where this was going.
Sadly for Reborn, Masami wasn't willing to entertain the idea of submitting to anyone, much less someone currently weaker than she was. Onii-san, Okaa-san, and Otou-san were one thing—and they hadn't really been asking for submission—but Tsunayoshi?
Absolutely not.
He was one of the few beings she voluntarily interacted with on a daily basis, but her freedom, her freedom. Kyoya understood her, and Masami understood him; neither of them ever tried to chain down the other by words or actions no matter the circumstances.
Becoming part of the Vongola Famiglia would tie her down, even more than Namimori kept her trapped. And she couldn't stand the thought of that, couldn't entertain the idea of staying in a gilded cage of rotten politics and broken promises.
Not to mention, Tsunayoshi was just too...soft for her. She appreciated his compassion, his kindness, but that wasn't what Masami needed in a leader.
Kyoya walked into the room on silent feet, though she sensed his presence immediately.
"Tea, Onii-san?"
"Hn." Relaxing onto a cushion opposite her, gray eyes sharp. "You've offered an invitation?"
"Hai. Reborn-san should be here in an hour or so. Sawada-san as well." If nothing else, the Italian would drag her poor classmate over for the experience of dancing with a skilled partner. Masami was certain of it because she would have done the same.
Kyoya frowned. "The herbivore?" he identified with distaste. Tsunayoshi might have improved, but he was far from Onii-san's level.
"If you want to dance with the carnivore..." Masami trailed off and sipped at her tea serenely. It wasn't as if she would leave her brother and her charge alone together.
That would be disastrous. And Tsunayoshi might end up in the hospital. For all of her "challenging" training methods, she did understand the concept of acceptable limits.
Kyoya twitched. "If he gets in my way, I'll bite him to death." With that winning promise, he got to his feet and stalked out of the room. "I'll be in the training room."
Masami hummed in response and began to prepare some snacks for the approaching guests. Knowing Tsunayoshi, he would be freaking out and nearing fainting status by the time he got here.
She had been working on his confidence, but the Skylark tended to inspire fear in near everyone he met.
Precisely one hour later, there was a hesitant knock on the door. Upon pulling it open, Masami was amused to find that her prediction was perfectly accurate.
Tsunayoshi stared at her with wide eyes, anxiety written all over his face. Having been persistent in her refusal to visit the Sawada household, Masami had never welcomed him into her home, with the exception of that time with the yakuza, and most certainly not when Kyoya was around.
In comparison, the hitman that stood next to Tsunayoshi was wholly relaxed and greeted Masami with a mischievous smile and a "Ciaossu!" She was fairly certain that Reborn had, in fact, dragged her classmate over against his will, but said nothing.
Instead, Masami smiled and bowed. "Greetings, Sawada-san, Reborn-san. Please, come in."
Tsunayoshi saw fit to gift her with a deer-in-headlights look. He didn't move an inch.
Inwardly sighing, she was about to remind him that it was impolite to simply stare when Reborn kicked sharply at his ankle, resulting in a cut-off shriek and rabbit-like hopping around. "Be a gentleman and answer her, Dame-Tsuna," the hitman ordered.
Tsunayoshi grumbled, to Masami's slight amusement, before looking back up at her with a sheepish smile and bowing appropriately. "Thanks for inviting us, Masami-san."
She nodded in acknowledgement and tilted her head marginally to signal the student and tutor to follow her. "Shoes off please." Tatami mats weren't built for the heavy trend.
"Oh. Right."
After they obeyed, Masami turned and led them smoothly through the hallways of her home, taking no notice of the way Tsunayoshi looked around with curious eyes. He had been too rattled that one time before to pay attention to his surroundings, a failing he appeared eager to correct now.
Both Masami and Kyoya were traditionalists in the end. While Kyoya had his ideas on immaculate dress, acceptable rules, and correct conduct, Masami valued impeccable manners, appropriate respect, and classic rituals.
Between her, who couldn't stand cluster, and her brother, who hated excessive adornments, their home was on the conservative side. The walls were blank, but for some kanji and old paintings. Other than the occasional potted plant and simple bouquets, there was a general lack of color.
Nonetheless, there was the raw beauty of a traditional Japanese house: fusuma panels, shoji screens, and all.
"Your home is beautiful," he said quietly as they approached two solid wooden doors in the far left wing of the massive mansion that was the ancient Hibari property, clear awe in his voice.
She smiled softly and pushed one of the doors open, holding it so that Tsunayoshi and Reborn could enter first. "Thank you, Sawada-san."
Tsunayoshi smiled sincerely at her as he passed, and for a moment, Masami felt mildly guilty. Silly boy. What had she said about being aware of danger?
Although from the smirk on Reborn's face before a tilt of his fedora concealed it in shadow, the hitman knew full well what was waiting for Tsunayoshi beyond the doors.
Masami slipped into the training room and closed the door behind her, leaning on the cool wood and turning her attention to Tsunayoshi just in time to see him pale drastically and sway in place as he caught sight of Kyoya.
Onii-san went through his final set of katas, ignoring the guests until he was finished. Unfurling himself, he smirked wickedly, eyes on Reborn and completely ignoring Tsunayoshi's presence. "Baby, I want to fight you."
"Maybe later," Reborn refuted even as he pushed Tsunayoshi forward, clearly against the boy's will, judging by the frantic eyes and sweaty face. "Tsuna will fight instead."
Oh? Masami raised an eyebrow thoughtfully. Tsunayoshi wasn't at all near Kyoya's level, despite the improvements to his combat ability, so unless that Dying Will Bullet was used...
But that was probably the point.
"Hiiiiieeee!" Then again, that tendency to screech like a banshee that neither Masami nor Reborn had been able to beat out of him yet would certainly not impress Onii-san.
As expected, Kyoya flicked a disdainful glance at Tsunayoshi and dismissed him of being worthy of attention. "That herbivore is hardly a good opponent. Baby, fight me."
"How about this? Tsuna will fight you for five minutes, and if he loses before that time, I'll fight you," Reborn proposed, ignoring Tsunayoshi's hissed protests and outcries. The way he was waving his arms, you would think he was trying to learn how to fly.
Kyoya considered it. The herbivore was just that—a herbivore—but the carnivore wasn't going to let any other arrangement suffice, and this was the herbivore his sister had been accompanying for the past four years or so.
So. Might as well see how successful Masami had been.
"Fine. Prepare to be bitten to death, herbivore," he intoned, settling into a crouch and raising his weapons. Kyoya would make this quick and fast, and then move on to fight against the Sun Arcobaleno.
Tsunayoshi grimaced and cast a pleading look towards Masami, who merely smiled half-encouragingly and half-threateningly as Reborn walked back to stand next to her. There would be no help from her.
Sighing—he was so going to die today—Tsunayoshi nevertheless squared his shoulders and stepped forward to slide into a combat position in the center of the room, resigned eyes fixed on Kyoya. This would be a curious dance indeed.
Kyoya didn't hesitate and lunged forward, aiming to strike the younger boy unconscious in a swift, brutal blow. But Tsunayoshi ducked under the tonfa, and even from where she was standing, Masami saw Kyoya's eyes widen. He hadn't expected that. At all.
"Wao," he purred. Then, Kyoya bared his teeth in a wild grin and began to fight in earnest.
It was a rather one-sided fight, all things considered. Kyoya went at Tsunayoshi without hesitation or reserve, and Tsunayoshi dodged, weaved, and eluded every last blow, not even bothering to try and get a hit in himself.
Just as well, too, as even a single connected impact would result in painful defeat. Kyoya was attempting to get a handle on this new opponent's strength and potential, but he wasn't holding much back either.
"Sawada-san won't last long at this rate," Masami observed, momentarily bending down to offer Reborn her shoulder, an offer that was rapidly accepted. "He's doing well, all things considered." Onii-san could be terrifying on the floor.
"No problem," Reborn chirped, raising the gun that had suddenly showed up in his hand. "I never expected Dame-Tsuna to go against Hibari Kyoya for much longer anyway." Two minutes had already passed in the blur of battle.
She didn't answer directly but watched as Tsunayoshi twisted around a downward strike and skipped backward, almost suffering a blow to the head. Ten seconds later, his footing faltered for but a moment—
"Fight with a dying will." Reborn fired without hesitation. Kyoya leaped back automatically at the sound of gunfire, his eyes darting between his sister and his opponent. Tsunayoshi jerked, the bullet entering his forehead, and fell back.
"...Is this it?" Kyoya scowled with a trace of disappointment, tonfa lowering slightly. Three minutes had passed. "Pathetic. Masami, what was that—"
"REBORN!" Tsunayoshi yelled, an orange flame appearing in the center of his forehead and his clothes, barring his underwear, tearing to nothingness as he jumped to his feet. "I'LL DEFEAT HIBARI-SAN WITH MY DYING WILL!"
"Too loud," Kyoya and Masami said at the same time, in the same blank tone, though Kyoya followed the annoyed comment up with lunging at Tsunayoshi once more, scowl deepening. "Shut up."
Tsunayoshi let loose with a berserker sort of shout and drew back a fist. The smack of flesh against metal echoed audibly, and then they were moving again, this time with Tsunayoshi actually able to get in some offense in.
"It's still not enough," Masami said, frowning when a tonfa hit Tsunayoshi's side hard enough to bruise, at the very least, while the returning fist was dodged effortlessly. "He's...reckless in this state." No plan, no tactics, no strategy.
"Hmm," Reborn agreed, black eyes tracking Tsunayoshi, who was bashed in the jaw harshly and then kicked into a wall, his flame spluttering out. "But five minutes have already passed."
"Tch." Having heard the statement, Kyoya straightened up and glared at Reborn but didn't demand another fight. Rules were rules, after all. Instead, he put away his tonfa and turned to look at Masami, who obligingly stepped away from the door.
"You will continue to train the herbivore," Kyoya ordered over his shoulder as he headed off to the bathroom for a shower, "and he will come here every weekend for a spar." He left without bothering to wait for a response.
"Would that be alright with you, Reborn-san?" Masami inquired lightly, gathering up a water bottle and a towel for Tsunayoshi, who was beginning to peel himself off the floor with a groan.
"Sure. It'll be good practice for Tsuna. He learns better through direct experience." While Masami had beaten the basics into Reborn's student, she hadn't truly pushed him for more than the ability to protect himself. But the Vongola Decimo needed more than to be able to protect himself. He needed to protect his Famiglia, and that required strength, experience, and resolve. And that was best gained through unrelenting battle.
She nodded and knelt next to Tsunayoshi, cataloging his injuries with a glance. Nothing too serious; Onii-san had gone—relatively—easy on him. "Drink."
"Ah...thanks, Masami-san," he said, smiling ruefully up at her. Swallowing several mouthfuls of water, Tsunayoshi dragged himself to his feet, shoulders slumping with exhaustion.
"You did well," Masami praised, knowing she had surprised him when his head snapped up and honey-brown eyes widened. "You'll do better next time." There was nothing but absolute certainty in her voice, and he heard it.
Tsunayoshi ducked his head, but she saw his smile stretch across his face, bright and happy and proud. "...yeah. Thanks, Masami-san."
"Don't think that means you can slack off, Dame-Tsuna," Reborn warned, whacking his student on the head none too gently, based on the startled yelp.
"Reborn!"
"So," Masami started off after Tsunayoshi left to take a shower. "The Vongola Decimo." She poured the boiled water into the teapot and started on the coffee, movements efficient and practiced.
"The Tenth Head of the Vongola Famiglia," Reborn confirmed, taking a seat on one of the zabuton set out in the sitting room. "One of the most powerful mafia syndicates in the world."
"Am I to take this for the reason there was a transfer request for a Gokudera Hayato from Italy?" she questioned airily, grinding the coffee beans up without missing a beat. Learning how to make coffee had been one of Okaa-san's requirements, although Masami rarely needed to do so at home.
"Probably," he said. "Where did you hear that from?"
"The Disciplinary Committee is very powerful in Namimori. I'm the... secretary." Not exactly, but close enough.
"That so? I would approve that request if I were you." Calm, easy, not a hint of threat.
She wasn't fooled. "Onii-san already has." Kyoya couldn't care less whether or not a student might be Mafia.
"Good." She could hear the smug smile in the hitman's voice. "Gokudera will be a good test for Tsuna."
"Will you continue to test Sawada-san until you deem him ready to be a mafia boss?" That sounded rather...dubious.
"But of course." Reborn nodded in thanks when she pushed the cup of coffee to his side.
Masami sat in seiza with careless grace, pouring a cup of tea for herself. "Why?"
"It's my mission."
"From who?" The Vongola, definitely, but who of the Vongola.
A sharp look from the deadly predator that faced her. "It's not important right now."
She supposed she couldn't win every fight. "How's the coffee?"
Reborn took a sip and hummed. "Too mild. Do better next time."
"As you wish," she demurred sweetly.
He peered closely at her, black eyes uncomfortably knowing. It seemed to be a trend among the Arcobaleno, especially since their age and experience contrasted so sharply with their appearance. "What do you want to ask me, Masami?"
"What might your plans be," Masami said slowly, meeting those eyes squarely, because, even here, even now, it was beneath her to show unease, "regarding Onii-san and I?" This...indulgence was suspicious, superfluous. He wanted something from them.
Masami didn't like it.
Reborn smirked. "You two would be good additions to Tsuna's famiglia."
She paused and took a sip of tea, refraining from continuing the conversation until she was sure her face and body revealed nothing. "I don't believe Onii-san would agree." She didn't agree.
"Persuading him would be up to Tsuna," he concurred with a shrug. "And in your case as well."
Masami didn't quite have the chance to reply before Tsunayoshi stumbled in, but that was fine. She didn't know what her reply would have been anyway.
"Ow..." Tsuna whimpered, collapsing on a zabuton in the sitting room after showering. The dark blue yukata that he wore was just a tad too big, but it was better than his original, sweat-soaked clothes, so he didn't complain.
But, God, Hibari hit hard. Blue and purple bruises were already blooming all over his pale skin. Tsuna knew the drill after training with Masami, even though his classmate had never, ever pushed him this far; he was going to wake up sore and aching for the next few days.
"Finally back, Dame-Tsuna?" Reborn sat next to him, drinking a cup of coffee with a sophistication that looked really out of place on an infant. "It's bad form to keep someone waiting for so long."
"Hey! I'm the guest here!" Dissent completed, Tsuna promptly turned to Masami, who sat on the other side of the table with a teacup, and bowed. "I'm sorry for taking so long, Masami-san!" He was well-trained, after all.
While Reborn's eye twitched irritably, Masami merely smiled, a glint of approval in her eyes. Tsuna resisted the urge to light up like a lantern. "Don't worry about it, Sawada-san. I understand that Reborn-san is to take my place as your tutor?"
"Err...yeah." Tsuna winced, feeling guilty even though it wasn't exactly his fault. "I'm sorry, I know this is sudden, and I really appreciate everything that you've done for me, but my mom just sprung this on me and I didn't have a cl—"
"Please stop rambling," Masami said at the same time that Reborn punched him in the side and barked, "Dame-Tsuna, babbling is unseemly."
They went still and stared at one another while Tsuna's blood ran cold. Oh... Oh no...they couldn't do this to him...one Spartan tutor was scary, but—
"Well, you seem like a good influence on Dame-Tsuna, so feel free to stick around," Reborn said with a (falsely) innocent smile. "You could even give me a hand now and then."
"I would be honored," Masami answered with an angelic smile—'danger! danger!' Tsuna's senses shrieked—"Perhaps you'd like to know the extent of my efforts before more progress can be made?"
"Go right on ahead."
"Nooooooooo!" Tsuna broke down, clutching wildly at his head and banging his fist on the ground. "Two Spartan tutors?! I'm not going to make it! I didn't know it was possible, but Reborn's worse than Masami-san and— "
A cuff to the head sent him slamming down into the floor with his signature, "Hiiiieeee!"
"That...noise needs to go." He heard Masami remark through the roar of blood in his ears.
"Once he goes through my training, it absolutely will," Reborn guaranteed with an evil smile.
Poor Tsuna could only curl up into a ball and cry silently for his doomed future.
"So that's your herbivore?" Kyoya sounded a tad disgruntled that night over dinner, frowning at Masami.
She raised an eyebrow, unruffled. "I doubt Sawada-san would appreciate being called 'mine.'"
A fluid shrug. "It's the truth." As far as they saw it anyway.
Masami sighed. "I take it you are satisfied with the time I have 'wasted'?"
"He's not a carnivore." Which, from Kyoya, would count as a "maybe." A far better judgment than what was passed on ninety-nine percent of the town, surely.
"Not yet, but he'll get there eventually." With Reborn training him—she was not ignorant of Tsunayoshi's plight, having seen that sadistic glint—the boy would either become a carnivore or die.
It was just that simple.
The next morning, bright and early, Masami paid a visit to Gokudera Hayato.
OpalescentGold: Whew! It's about time I got this chapter out! To be honest, I've had it written up for a while now, but since I keep changing my mind about the following chapters, there was a heck of a lot of editing. So, Masami and Reborn meet, Tsuna finds himself under the boots of two Spartan teachers, and Hibaris don't like being controlled. At all.
Also, Masami is pragmatic despite her possessive tendencies and gives up the fluffy herbivore to be disciplined by the Greatest Hitman in the World. Kyoya gains a very, very, very small amount of respect for said fluffy herbivore, and hormones, middle school, and crushes can be awfully confusing, as spoken from personal experience.
A million thanks to my beta for the quick, speedy, and beautiful edits! I'm on tumblr!
Chabudai: tables with short legs.
Fusuma: sliding panels that act as doors and walls.
Gunsen: lightweight but strong folding fans.
Kanzashi: hair ornaments used in traditional Japanese hairstyles.
Kimono: Japanese traditional robes worn so that the hem falls to the ankle, with attached collars and long, wide sleeves.
Seiza: formal way of sitting, kneeling with legs folded underneath.
Shoji: a sliding panel that is made of translucent paper in a wooden frame.
Tatami: mat floors traditionally made of rice straw.
Tessen: heavy folding fans with outer spokes made of heavy plates of iron.
Yukata: a casual summer kimono.
Zabuton: thin pillows used as cushions to sit on.