OpalescentGold: I do not own Katekyo Hitman Reborn!
Tarantella: a rapid whirling Italian dance in 6/8 time, usually mimicking either courtship or a sword fight.
As it turned out, Gokudera Hayato lived in the middle-class part of town, the apartment he had recently rented out suspiciously close to the Sawada Residence.
Honestly, it was as if that boy was becoming a magnet for trouble. After a moment of thought, Masami decided not to dismiss the idea outright, just in case.
Strolling casually up the road to the apartment at the brink of dawn, Masami knocked on Room 37's door and waited. Two minutes later, the door was yanked open ferociously and familiar emerald green eyes glared out at her. "What!?"
'Rude,' was her first true impression. 'Foreign delinquent,' was the second. Neither was much of a good one.
Gokudera Hayato was a teenager with shoulder-length silver hair and a dark scowl, pale skin and sharp features. He wore several gaudy necklaces, bracelets, and belts, all of which were quite unneeded, in her humble opinion. He was also very obviously not wearing the school uniform.
Of course. What else had she been expecting?
Inwardly, she reminded herself of his test scores, of his so-called genius, of the very interesting phone call she'd had with a family contact. Appearances were deceiving, Masami herself being a prime example. On the surface, Masami kept her composure and bowed shallowly. "Greetings. I am Hibari Masami, the Secretary of the Disciplinary Committee of Namimori Middle School. I'm here to brief you on your situation as a transfer student."
Normally, this would be Onii-san's job, but, well, that wasn't a good idea. For both parties.
"Tch, I don't need briefing," Hayato snarled, staring at her with wary eyes. "Why don't you just go back to wherever the hell you came from?"
"That would be fine, but I'm afraid you would then be asked to return to wherever you came from," she replied without missing a beat, snapping her fan open to air herself. "Which will it be, Gokudera-san?"
If it was at all possible, Hayato's scowl deepened further, but he pushed off the doorway with a glare and spun on his heel to stalk inside. Masami took the concession for what it was and followed him serenely, closing the door behind her.
Instantly, the nauseating scent of smoke assaulted her senses. A quick glance around found the source: a small tray on the black table held three cigarette butts, all clearly used and not long ago, to boot.
Ah, lovely. Smoking was prohibited by school regulations. Onii-san would be furious the second he heard. At least the Italian hadn't shown any inclination to vandalism yet. Although, with what he was known for in the Underworld...
Masami reigned in a sigh and turned her attention to the apartment.
The walls were a pale cream, the rug beneath feet a deep black. The majority of the furniture was dark in color as well, a small TV placed on a black table against the wall. It was a very clean, very simple design that was also rather conspicuously lacking any signs of being lived in.
Was he not planning on staying in Namimori long? Or did he simply not see this place as home? Neither boded well, and Masami took care to keep her face blank and prevent her eyes from narrowing.
For all of his unpleasantness, Gokudera Hayato moved with the air of someone who knew combat. Certainly, 'Smokin' Bomb' was a pointed epithet. The faint outlines beneath his clothes hinted that he wasn't exactly helpless at the moment either.
Just as she settled down on a couch, a flicker of black and white caught her eye. A large object was placed just around the corner. She wouldn't be able to see it unless she physically got up and walked over, but the shadow looked like—
"Alright, spit it out," Hayato grumbled, flinging an arm over the adjacent black couch's back and cutting into her thoughts. "I have better things to do than this."
Masami didn't react to the disrespect beyond a slow blink. However, she did take a slight vindictive pleasure in his flinch at the loud bang the encyclopedic-sized rulebook she retrieved made when it collided with the heavy oak table in-between them.
"What the hell is that?" he yelped, eyeballing the book with a mildly disturbed look.
She smiled agreeably. "'That' would be the rules and regulations regarding Namimori Middle School and the Namimori Town in general. Please look over them all—you are liable to get hurt otherwise."
While Hayato gaped, Masami went on smoothly, "Unfortunately, cigarettes are banned in Namimori Middle, so I'll have to ask you to refrain from smoking in school. It is expected that each and every student attending will be wearing the school uniform unless the Disciplinary Committee has specifically noted otherwise. Please take note that anyone disrupting the peace will be punished."
She paused and observed his incredulous expression with some measure of well-hidden satisfaction. "Do you have any questions for me?"
He spluttered in outrage. "H-Hold it, who do you think you—"
"Excellent. If that is all, I will be taking my leave." Masami rose to her feet and smiled politely. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Gokudera-san. I dearly hope that there will be no cause to do so again in the future."
And she let herself out.
Masami lounged on the veranda and thought absently that she might need to thank Reborn later. All those years and she had barely exchanged five words with her father when he was out taking care of business, and now, here they were.
Albeit, Satoshi didn't sound very happy at the moment. "You're childhood friends with the future Vongola Decimo."
Masami didn't hesitate to pitch her voice guileless and innocent. "Otou-san, I wasn't aware Sawada-san was connected with the Vongola in any way when we first met," she said. "When I found out, I'm afraid it was much too late for anything to change."
She didn't mention that she'd honestly had no intentions of letting things change. Oh, Masami could have cut her ties then and there, could have rejected Tsunayoshi so harshly and coldly that he would have backed off himself, but she hadn't.
Masami hadn't wanted to, out of some strange, twisted sense of responsibility perhaps. There was no point in starting something without following through, and the only one at the time who might have been able to change her mind had been Kyoya.
Kyoya, who might or might not have entertained that thought once or twice himself. He had definitely disapproved of the herbivore, and even now, after Tsunayoshi had finally won a measure of grudging respect from the Skylark, Kyoya remained dismissive of the boy.
But that was alright. Her brother was willing to wait, willing to guide Tsunayoshi through the more complicated dances with violent reminders and nudges, and with Reborn also at the helm, Tsunayoshi would be shaping up in no time.
More importantly, while Kyoya might have considered forcibly separating Masami from Tsunayoshi, he had never actually done anything. That was the general rule of thumb that had kept the two siblings from snarling at each other for all of these years.
So, in the end, even with the introduction of the Vongola in the mix, neither of them had done anything to change the status quo, although Masami had increased her vigilance.
Otou-san's voice came out stern. Disappointed. "You should have told me."
Masami squashed the flicker of guilt down, unnerved by her own unease. It was rare, nowadays. "There was no need. Sawada-san's father may be the head of CEDEF, but Sawada-san himself was an ordinary citizen with no knowledge of the Mafia."
He scoffed quietly. "Do you think that matters? Sawada Iemitsu, the Young Lion of Vongola would not be lenient regarding his family's safety. If he believed you or your brother posed a threat to his son, do you truly believe you would survive the death he would bring down?"
She opened her mouth to argue and then shut it, mind whirling as she considered all the pieces she had in her grasp. The Hibaris were a powerful family. Kyoya and Masami were, as far as she knew, the babies of said family though they were powerful in their own right, and if even Otou-san was wary of this Vongola—
Well.
Okaa-san had always warned her about being overconfident. Her mind inadvertently pulled up images of assassins sneaking into Namimori under the cover of night, and oh, she despised the thought that she might have endangered those who were hers because of an arrogant miscalculation.
"...my apologies, Otou-san," Masami said. It stung at her pride to admit a mistake, but then, self-denial wasn't a very good road to walk down. Better to deal with this issue now, akin to ripping off a band-aid, than to let it simmer and grow into a monstrosity.
Satoshi sighed. "Rika taught you secrecy, Masami. But don't forget that some secrets are too dangerous for you to hold onto."
"I understand." Briefly, she wondered if she should inform Tsunayoshi of the true nature of his father's work. Reborn didn't seem willing to. "What can you tell me about the Vongola?"
"The first thing you need to know is that they didn't start out as Mafia."
"No?"
"The man who founded the Vongola Famiglia, Vongola Primo, was said to have begun the organization as a vigilante group. No one truly knows what happened, but it's said that his Mist Guardian eventually revolted and ran him out of Italy. The Vongola started to become what it is today under Vongola Secundo's reign.
"Mist Guardian?" The term as a whole didn't make much sense to her.
"Guardians are Flame Active individuals Harmonized with a Sky Boss." There was a pause. "You didn't understand a word I just said, did you?"
"I'm sorry, but no." Although, now Masami had a semblance of an idea of what Reborn wanted from them.
Satoshi sighed again, and slowly, painstakingly, began to explain Dying Will Flames.
Masami had hoped that Hayato would keep out of trouble. Somehow. Someway.
Alas, it was not to be. Perhaps it was fate. Or perhaps it was a certain Sun Arcobaleno.
"I take it this is your doing?" she asked the baby sitting on the window sill. The transfer student wasn't wearing the school uniform or eating lunch peacefully in some isolated corner. Instead, he was smoking half a dozen cigarettes and flinging dynamite around, yelling threats at Tsunayoshi.
Years of training were the only reason Masami was able to simply lean against the door and watch. She wasn't sure which part of this entire scenario was the most repugnant. Her fingers flexed.
"That's right," Reborn replied, not at all concerned about the student currently frantically dodging dynamite sticks. "I told Gokudera that if he can kill Tsuna, he can become the Vongola Decimo."
She was silent for long heartbeats, calmly tracking Tsunayoshi's movements as he ran this way and that, shouting at Hayato to stop before someone got hurt. "I'd like to believe that I'm smarter than that, Reborn-san," she murmured.
If that was truly the case, after all, then there would be hordes of eager Mafioso pouring into Namimori.
"Heh. I suppose you are," he confirmed nonchalantly. "There's no need to worry, Masami. He's just here to keep Tsuna on his toes."
"And this...test is to gain Sawada-san a new subordinate?" He wasn't actually doing a half-bad job of avoiding the dynamite, but he needed to counterattack soon. That boy had always been rather stubborn about peace and whatnot. Masami hadn't bothered to try and change that aspect of his because—
She knew the value of kindness, of hope and warmth. She knew that sometimes, violence would only make things worse, would only exacerbate a situation. She knew that honey caught more flies than vinegar.
Satoshi and Rika had been clear on this, in their own distinct ways. Rika had taught sweet manners and sly smiles even while she directed Masami through kata after kata. Satoshi had talked about herbivores and carnivores but expanded more on politics and diplomacy.
The Hibaris believed most staunchly in power, but that didn't mean they were blind to all else. Masami was fairly certain that even if she had tried, Tsunayoshi's soft heart was so much an irrefutable part of him that nothing would have changed anyway.
She could respect that, even if she didn't need it.
"Of course," he chirped, smirking mischievously. "A mafia boss needs trustworthy subordinates." She had no doubt that was at least partially directed towards her.
Masami ignored it. "Dead end," she commented as Tsunayoshi boxed himself in. "What now, Reborn-san?"
Reborn just smirked wider and raised his gun. "Fight with a dying will," he ordered and shot.
"No matter how many times I see it..." she muttered to herself, shaking her head slightly when Tsunayoshi fell back and then burst out of his clothes, roaring loudly about putting out the fuses with his 'Dying Will'. Couldn't he be a little quieter about it at least?
"You'll get used to it," he reassured her casually. "You'll probably join the famiglia, too, after all."
Masami didn't deign to respond to that. Tsunayoshi or not, guarding someone for the rest of her life didn't sound all that pleasant to her. Besides, her attention was more preoccupied with the fact that Hayato was handling far too many dynamite sticks at once—the foolish, foolish boy—and predictably, he had dropped one, right near his feet.
That idiot was going to kill himself. And he had the nerve to try and do it before she could get her hands on him, too.
The weight of her fan on her hand was comforting. She hoped rather spitefully that she would break a few bones.
"Wait," Reborn commanded.
Masami hesitated reluctantly.
Tsuna was still getting used to the idea that Gokudera was now apparently his subordinate—because he'd somehow won their fight and not because he'd saved his classmate's life; how in the world did that work!?—when a shiver went down his spine and he went pale.
Oh. Oh no.
Tsuna spun around and was met with an avenging angel.
Masami loomed over the frozen boy, the polite smile on her lips more terrible than his greatest nightmares and gray eyes so very, very calm, the eye of the hurricane. Her closed tessen tapped lightly on the palm of her hand in a gentle rhythm.
Tsuna squeaked and fell back. He fought the urge to cry. It would only make things worse if he fell back on his dameness. Not that he would know, because oh my god, when was the last time Masami was angry—
Nope. No, nu-uh, Tsuna was pretty sure, very sure, absolutely, positively, completely sure that he'd never, ever, ever seen Masami looking anything more than a tad annoyed, much less angry, and never ever utterly furious. Yeah, there had been that time with the yakuza, but that had been different!
She was almost, practically, sorta angry at him this time!
"Sawada-san," she said, oh-so-quietly, "I'm afraid public indecency is against the school rules. If you simply must destroy your clothes at odd times of the day, then please start bringing along extra sets of school uniforms in your book bag."
Tsuna could only nod hectically, voice having deserted him, and pray that—
"Oi, don't you dare talk to Juudaime with such disrespect!"
Nope. God wouldn't answer his prayers. He was doomed.
Or rather, Gokudera was doomed. Tsuna was probably, most likely, certainly doomed by association.
The fan left Masami's hand with a deft flick of her wrist and slammed straight into Gokudera's solar plexus before anyone could blink. Tsuna almost wanted to clap in admiration at the incredible precision and power in the effortless attack.
Almost. Instead, Tsuna winced sympathetically. He knew how much that hurt.
Gokudera bent over on impact with a choked-off gasp, all the air in his lungs successfully forced out and his unlit dynamite sticks falling to the ground. He was thrown back by the force behind the steel fan and fell back onto the ground, dazed.
"And you, Gokudera-san." Masami turned gracefully on Gokudera, to Tsuna's tremendous relief and slight guilt. He didn't think his new...err, subordinate slash classmate slash maybe-friend realized the trouble he was getting into by interfering with a Hibari Masami on the warpath.
Still, what Gokudera had done was really, really dangerous, and Masami was well within her rights to reprimand him for it, both as an almost victim—hahaha, not really, that was (not) funny—and a prefect.
She was much better at making lessons stick than him anyways. Exhibit A: Tsuna. Exhibit B: Umm...everyone else in their school.
Masami smiled, soft and sweet and sharp, and stalked forward. "Assuming we disregard that I have already informed you that smoking is forbidden, the school uniform is mandatory, and the peace of Namimori is to be kept, there is still that little matter of your usage of dynamite on school grounds."
Gokudera, it seemed, had long-buried survival instincts after all. He scrambled to his feet and backed away from her, eyes wide. "What the hell do you think you're d—" he started indignantly, but she cut him off in an uncharacteristic display of rudeness.
"If you were unaware previously, then I'd like to inform you right now that, in the event of a chemical reaction with the science materials located not five meters behind you, your dynamite could have killed not only everyone here, but the many innocent students residing in the school as well." She tilted her head, voice mild and pleasant.
Tsuna's eyes went wide with dismay while Gokudera flinched slightly, lips pressing tightly together. Gokuderar couldn't seem to be able to find a counter to that and glanced away, face pinched and shoulders tense.
"And please consider, what if," Masami whispered, gaze steady and relentless, breathing colorless, odorless poison into the clean air, "what if, Sawada-san had been just one second slower? Half a second even. I assure you, a corpse has never been of any use to a leader, any leader, let alone a Mafia Boss."
She fell silent ominously. The world held its breath. A chilly wind swept past them, causing the half-dressed Tsuna to tremble. Reborn watched the proceedings behind the shadow of his fedora, making no move whatsoever to interfere.
Picking up her fan and spreading it with a crackle, Masami hid the bottom half of her face behind the silk and steel, pinning Gokudera to his position with her unforgiving eyes alone. "I understand this may be a traumatic experience, but do you have anything you'd like to say, Gokudera-san?"
Gokudera flushed slightly and crossed his arms, eyes lowering to the ground and brow furrowed heavily. He mumbled something under his breath, looking embarrassed and resentful and a tad bemused, like he had never been scolded for not taking care of himself and others before.
One slender eyebrow arched, the smile that pale pink lips tilted into brilliant and merciless. "I'm sorry, but I couldn't quite hear that. Would you please repeat it for me?"
"Jeez, I said it won't fucking happen again, alright!?" Gokudera finally spat out, glaring hell-bent at Masami. "You happy now!? Fuck off, you self-righteous witch! You're not even in the Mafia! What the hell do you know about how we do things!?"
Oh. Oh. Tsuna wanted to be back in his bed, preferably under his blankets and with his face buried in his pillow.
Thankfully, however, Masami seemed to be satisfied with that. In an instant, the refined rage and cutting edge to her demeanor fell away, leaving behind the aloof, dignified prefect Tsuna normally knew. He breathed a silent sigh of relief.
"Perhaps, but the fact remains that I am responsible for the safety of the students here." Masami turned away from Gokudera. "The bell will ring in a minute, and I expect to see the two of you in detention after school for the next three days. Sawada-san, the spar Onii-san requested?"
"I know, I know. Saturday, right?" Tsuna scrambled to his feet and made sure to stand straight, suspecting he would get punished otherwise. Detention was already bad enough, even if he had expected it.
"We'll be waiting." With that sinister prediction, Masami glided from the rooftop, closing the door gently behind her and leaving Tsuna, Reborn, and Gokudera lingering on the rooftop, an almost awkward silence falling between them.
Tsuna wondered what sort of drama show his life was now. It looked like it was leaning a little towards the action side, with a touch of horror.
Gokudera was quiet for another heartbeat, brooding, almost sulking, before growling, "What a stone-cold bitch! Who does she think she is, acting like she's all that!? Don't worry, Juudaime, I'll blow her up next time so she can't bother us—"
"Gokudera-kun." Tsuna snapped himself out of his thoughts with a shake of his head. This was more important. Smiling comfortingly, he knelt beside Gokudera. "It's alright. Masami-san's a good friend of mine. She can be scary when she's angry, but she doesn't mean any harm. But you know… maybe she's a little right."
Poor Gokudera looked flabbergasted. "J-Juudaime!?"
"You should have more care for your life," Tsuna scolded, calling on what little assertiveness Masami had managed to beat into him. "She's right. If I was a few seconds too late—" He winced, unable to bear thinking about it. Tsuna rubbed at his bare arms, unreasonably cold despite the wind having let up.
"Nothing bad would have happened," Reborn stated, stepping forward for the first time since shooting Tsuna in the head.
"Eeeh?" Tsuna furrowed his brows in confusion. "What are you talking about, Reborn? Gokudera-kun would have gotten blow up! That's very, very bad!" Though, for some reason, Gokudera was looking rather starry-eyed at the moment.
"Masami was all ready to intercept with that fan of hers before I stopped her," Reborn told them. "Dame-Tsuna, why haven't you persuaded such a useful person to join your famiglia yet?"
"I'm not going to be a mafia boss, Reborn!" Tsuna reiterated, exasperated. "And Masami-san isn't just a 'useful person'! I'm not going to make her join if she doesn't want to!"
Reborn's response was to jump into the air and kick Tsuna in the head.
"Hiieeeek! Reborn, what was that for!?"
"Dunno, I felt like it."
Masami glided into the Reception Room and took a seat on the sofa. She leaned back and closed her eyes, inhaling and exhaling slowly and deliberately, as her mother had taught her ever so long ago. She wanted to leave, wanted to just forget all of her responsibilities and run.
But she couldn't of course, not with the piles of work on her desk, not with the herbivores who stumbled along the school hallways, not with hitmen and mafia haunting the school. It was nearly enough to make her resent the world, just a bit.
Masami ran calculations through her mind, the process starting to become as easy as breathing, though not as easy as dancing, and decided that she had enough time to simply laze around for a while. It was becoming a bit of a commodity.
There was a sigh. "Tetsuya," Kyoya called in-between clean, precise servings of his bento.
The door creaked open, the muted steps of the second-in-command of the prefects on the carpet. Masami felt his concerned gaze on her for a moment, before it turned to Onii-san. "Yes, Kyo-san?"
"Get Masami hot chocolate."
"Hai."
And that, right there, was why she put up with their nonsense. Not that Kyoya would understand why she was so upset even if Masami told him about the whole situation right now. They had such different views on the world.
It was why Masami had bothered with Tsunayoshi while Kyoya would have bitten him to death without remorse.
Kyoya was nearly always firmly in the present. He saw what was and based his actions off of that. Herbivores were herbivores; carnivores were carnivores. He didn't care for things like what ifs. The closest he'd ever come was giving Tsunayoshi time to 'grow his fangs' before going all-out and determining the proper hierarchy of things.
Masami wanted what could be. There were an infinite amount of possibilities inherent in the universe, and she cherished that. It wasn't so much that she wanted to explore it all, only that she enjoyed the knowledge that she could, could roam the globe to her heart's content, could make of herself whatever she wanted.
It was for that reason she hadn't dismissed Sawada Tsunayoshi outright. It was for that reason Masami didn't precisely approve of murder. And it was for that reason she was so very angry with Gokudera Hayato at the moment.
Didn't he know what he had almost thrown away? It was infuriating, especially for someone of his rumored intellect.
"The herbivore?" Kyoya questioned idly, and Masami pressed her lips together.
"Taken care of." If one could take care of suicidal herbivores. Still, better not to tell Kyoya about the dynamite issue. That was just asking for Gokudera Hayato to get sent to the hospital.
"And the omnivore?" His new nickname for Tsunayoshi.
"A guest on Saturday."
He grunted. "Good."
There was a peaceful pause while Kyoya ate and Masami half-heartedly dozed.
Then, "Masa-san, I have your hot chocolate."
She resisted the urge to groan and peeled back her eyelids to sit up. "Thank you, Kusakabe-san." Taking the cup from him, Masami covered a yawn and heard the bell ring. Sighing to herself, she rose to her feet and left for class. Thankfully, she had no afternoon classes with Tsunayoshi and Hayato.
Not so enjoyable was the pile of work waiting for her after school.
"Masami, I'm leaving," Kyoya spared the time to inform her, lingering by her doorway after his patrols.
"All right." She didn't look up from the paper advocating for a field trip for the tree-hugging club. Which was fine, really, if they weren't planning on going to a football arena. "Dance well, Onii-san."
He grunted, and then the silence in the office was official.
Masami tapped her feet on the carpet and rejected the proposition.
It was a lie. Her peace was a lie.
"Y-You! What are you doing here?!" Two days later, Hayato pointed a belligerent finger at Masami, who was unwrapping her lunch, acting unaffected by the aggression spilling off her new classmate in waves. "Get away from Juudaime!"
"Gokudera-kun! Please stop!" Tsunayoshi panicked, glancing back and forth between his two friends. "Masami-san normally sits with me during lunch when she isn't busy with the Disciplinary Committee!" Which was becoming less and less often.
Masami broke apart her chopsticks and nodded to a Reborn who had suddenly jumped down from a nearby tree in a well-manufactured leafy costume. "Greetings, Reborn-san. Gokudera-san, must I remind you that smoking is prohibited?"
Hayato's eye twitched even as he scoffed and removed the lit cigarette to stomp it out underneath his shoe. "What the hell is it to you!? Don't think you can come in all cool as ice and shit and tell me what to do! I'll blow you up!"
"Gokudera-kun!" Poor Tsunayoshi, having to leash the bomb-happy Italian. Masami didn't envy him at all. "No, no, don't get out the dynamite! Hieek, Masami-san—!"
Her gunsen left her hand with a neat flick, meeting the target's chest squarely and sending him skidding back with a pained grunt. Hayato was silent for two more seconds, most likely out of shock and the need to regain his breath, before promptly exploding into an incensed rant.
As he didn't have dynamite out this time, she did nothing but gesture for Tsunayoshi to hand her back her fan. Positive and negative reinforcement. She was pretty sure she had seen a lesson on that in one of Onii-san's nature television shows.
Masami happily ignored the fact that those shows were in dealing with unruly pets. Perhaps she would invest some time in researching psychology later. She certainly hadn't forgiven or forgotten what had happened three days ago, and she had honestly had no reason to investigate an unhealthy disregard for life before.
If nothing else, Tsunayoshi didn't have that problem. In fact, he was quite aware of his own mortality, to the point where he ran away from chihuahuas. "Gokudera-san, dynamite is forbidden on school grounds. Sawada-san, stuttering and begging is unbecoming. Please cease and desist."
Off to the side, Reborn drank his coffee and smirked.
Hayato didn't know what to think of Hibari Masami.
His first impression of her was that she was some ordinary civilian, if with freakishly perceptive eyes and a cool smile, so damn polite that it had annoyed the fuck out of him. Not to mention the completely absurd book of school rules she'd left on his table.
After skimming through it, he had promptly torn it apart and recycled it all, but the reminder had still been irritating.
Who did she think she was, ordering Smokin' Bomb Hayato around!?
(He decided not to consider the fact that she didn't actually know who he really was.)
His second impression of her was that she was most certainly not an ordinary civilian, but was actually scary as fuck. The scolding she'd rained down on him had been infinitely worse than any of his father's. With no warning whatsoever, the cool, calm girl had turned into a vengeful witch with a tongue of frost and eyes of diamond.
He was halfway certain that she was a UMA in disguise as a middle school student. Either that or an assassin.
Probably an assassin, now that he thought about it.
(She was the first one to ever become upset because Hayato had endangered his own life. Which. What. Why.)
His third impression of her was that she was seemingly his new, incredible, amazing, wonderful boss' friend, which he really couldn't understand but tried to anyway. At least, he reasoned to himself, such a frightening person was on the Tenth's side. And wasn't it fantastic that his boss could sway people like that!?
Hayato had seriously lucked out, becoming the subordinate of his Juudaime.
And he promised himself he would be the best right-hand possible for the Vongola Decimo, no matter what.
(For the one and only person who had accepted, truly accepted, bastard, worthless Hayato without even blinking.)
But—
"You're going to that witch's house!?" Hayato screeched, going pale. This was dreadful! Who knew what she would do to his precious Juudaime!? Not that he didn't trust the World's Greatest Hitman's judgment, but still!
Masami reminded him too much of a professional hitman for him to trust the safety of his Boss to her.
Juudaime laughed and scratched the back of his head. "Uhh...yeah. I have to go spar with Hibari-san, Masami-san's older brother, or else they'll both get mad and that'd be, err, pretty bad."
Hayato frowned severely, eyes narrowing. It was wrong for his Boss to be frightened of anyone or anything. "What? Are they threatening you, Juudaime!? Do you want me to blow them up for you!?" No one would hurt Juudaime under his watch!
He chose to ignore his previous lack of success in injuring Hibari Masami in any way.
"No, no, no, it's not like that, Gokudera-kun!" Juudaime shook his head, waving his arms in an X shape in front of him. "It's just training; it's good for me. Besides, Masami-san won't let anything too bad happen."
Hayato would never know where Juudaime got that confidence from. In his humble opinion, that witch was nothing but trouble. Although, he admitted grudgingly, she had kept Juudaime safe before Hayato had come along, so maybe she wasn't that bad.
Still pretty damn bad though.
"If you're so concerned, Gokudera, then just come with us," Reborn recommended, having watched the argument go back and forth calmly. He was also abruptly in a kendo uniform, swinging a tiny bokken around. "Like Dame-Tsuna had the sense to say, it'll be good training!"
"Reborn!" Juudaime yelled, going a horrifying shade of white. "That's a terrible idea! Masami-san and Hibari-san will kill him and then they'll kill me!"
"Don't worry, Juudaime! I'll protect you!" Hayato declared, meaning the words with all of his heart.
Strangely enough, Juudaime didn't look very reassured.
"If you don't hurry up, Dame-Tsuna..." Reborn held up an enormous pocket watch to show his student. "...you'll be late."
"Hiiiiiieeeeee!"
...and that was how they all ended up on the doorstep of an archaic Japanese mansion that could easily pass for a Mafia Base. Hayato had his doubts.
Juudaime, fidgeting and uncomfortable, stepped up and knocked lightly on the door. Hayato shifted his weight from his left foot to his right and resisted the urge to light up a cigarette. Going by past experience, that...probably wouldn't turn out well.
And he definitely didn't want to cause any sort of trouble for Juudaime!
The door slid open precisely two and a half seconds later.
And Hayato's jaw dropped.
Okay, he had worked out one Hibari Masami. She was Juudaime's oldest friend. She was the sister of Juudaime's sparring partner. She was a terrifying witch when angry and somehow capable of acting like an angel from above when otherwise. She was a prim and proper prefect.
This...creature in front of him didn't fit into any of those categories.
Masami was clad in an ombre kimono, a mesmerizing purple that gradually faded into brilliant crimson. Pure white kanzashi flowers pinned her dark hair up and hung next to her face, which was currently utterly unreadable as she looked them over. She looked sophisticated and traditional, cultured and refined. She looked noble and dignified and harmless, a lady of old. She looked far more mature than a fourteen-year-old. She looked like some ancient geisha-in-training. She looked—
Adversely blank for just a moment upon seeing Hayato. It didn't last, but it made him scowl nevertheless, mood instantly souring.
"Greetings, Sawada-san, Reborn-san, Gokudera-san." Masami smiled genially, sweeping a bow that was even more ornate than normal because of her kimono.
"Good afternoon, Masami-san!" Juudaime, ever the nice and cordial boss, smiled warmly and bowed back, eyes darting nervously between Hayato and Masami.
Hayato inwardly seethed as Reborn chirped a "Ciaossu, Masami." There was no reason Juudaime should ever bow to anyone, but days of eating lunch with them both had informed him that this was a common occurrence. At least Masami had the decency to return the gesture.
"Going to let us in, maiko witch?" Hayato barked when those damn gray eyes settled on him, demanding despite no words being spoken. "Don't you dare leave Juudaime standing out here in the sun!" He might get sunburned, and that would be an absolute disaster.
At that, he got a raised eyebrow that said quite clearly she found the new nickname questionable and his lack of manners impolite but would indulge him anyway. Turning, Masami began making her way inside. "Welcome. For safety reasons, please refrain from displaying shoes, dynamite, and cigarettes in my home."
It was painfully obvious of whom the last two referred to. And what sort of fucking 'safety reasons' were there in the first place!? If she didn't want him here, then she should just say so outright, not that he would be leaving without his boss, approval or not.
Hayato gritted his teeth but subsided when Juudaime sent him a pleading look. Slipping his shoes off with a bit more force than absolutely necessary, he stomped after her, scowling. "Who's this brother of yours anyways!?"
"You'll see," she replied serenely, gliding through the hallways with ridiculous grace. "I would advise you not to anger him, Gokudera-san."
"Oi, what the hell does that mean!?" All-too-familiar reminders to 'stay out of the way, Hayato' and 'just...go to your room' drifted through his mind. "You think I can't take him!?" He wasn't weak, damn it! Weak people were useless, and Hayato couldn't—wouldn't be useless.
"No, Gokudera-kun, please don't!" Juudaime cut in, looking disturbingly worried and concerned as he increased the length of his strides to sidle in-between them. "Hibari-san can be really, really scary, so, please don't."
Hayato couldn't decide whether he should be happy Juudaime was obviously perturbed about him or hurt that Juudaime didn't think he could take this 'Hibari-san.' He needed to be the perfect Right-Hand Man, after all, and that meant he needed to be able to take on anyone and everyone. "Juudaime—"
Masami turned around at long last in front of double doors, kanzashi flowers swaying. "You could not defeat Sawada-san," she said flatly, though not unkindly. "Sawada-san can not defeat Onii-san. I'm sure you can determine the results."
Hayato blinked, knocked off-balance for a moment. "Juudaime can't defeat this guy?" Reading the mildly rueful confirmation on Juudaime's face, he tilted his head curiously and thought about this new development.
It only took seconds for things to click, and he slammed his fist into his palm. "Ah! Of course Juudaime is so smart and devoted that he's training with a strong opponent he can't defeat so he'll improve! I should have seen it earlier!"
For some reason, Juudaime looked a little pained. "Errr...Gokudera-kun, that's not it exactly..."
"Onii-san's waiting," Masami said quietly and pushed the doors open.
Masami was not looking forward to introducing Gokudera Hayato to Hibari Kyoya.
For one, solo was great, double was suspicious, and triple was a crowd.
Actually, in Onii-san's world, two was a crowd, too, but at least they were a mildly carnivorous crowd.
Hayato might be a hitman, might even be dangerous with those dynamite of his, but he was far from Kyoya's level. For that matter, he wasn't even up to Masami's speed of dance. Not yet, at the very least, though, like Tsunayoshi, he did have the potential.
That was a bad line of thought for such a pleasant morning. She pushed it away.
For two, Hayato was hostile and foolish enough to directly challenge Onii-san.
Masami was tolerant, much more so than her brother, and what she put up with in the name of peace, Kyoya would certainly not. Blatant disrespect to Hibari Kyoya would not be tolerated, much less in his own territory. Hayato would be bitten to death without mercy, creating a whole new set of problems.
For three, said boy was Tsunayoshi's "subordinate."
Should it come to a fight, Tsunayoshi would feel obligated to intervene out of his usual idiotic sense of duty and compassion, which would get him hurt. It would turn into a bloodbath into Masami's home, and that was simply unacceptable.
And then there was Reborn, who would most likely just exacerbate the situation.
No, Masami was not at all happy to play the mediator in these circumstances. Not that she let her irritation show, but it coiled deeply in her chest nevertheless, buried beneath a layer of ice but just waiting to lash out.
"Masami." Dressed in a black kinagashi, Onii-san was frowning, eyes set on Hayato, who was already bristling. "What is the meaning of this?"
Sighing inwardly, Masami leaned against the wall and spread open her fan, shielding her face. "Onii-san, this is Gokudera Hayato, Sawada-san's subordinate. Gokudera-san, this is Hibari Kyoya, the Leader of the Disciplinary Committee."
The two sized each other up for a heartbeat before Kyoya scoffed and turned away. "Why is he here?" he demanded blandly, evidently unimpressed by the other boy.
"I believe it was to guard Sawada-san," Masami answered as Hayato's eyebrow twitched in vexation.
From you, from us went unsaid.
"Herbivores are not welcome in my home," Kyoya said emphatically, tonfa appearing in hand. "Get lost."
Hayato gritted his teeth, dynamite sticks also showing up out of nowhere. "What was that, you bastard!?"
"You heard me. Leave or I'll bite you to death." Kyoya grinned toothily, a bloodthirsty glint in his eyes.
"Hiieeee!" Tsunayoshi's eyes were as wide as saucer plates. "Gokudera-kun and Hibari-san are going to fight?!"
"If you don't want them to, then stop them, Dame-Tsuna," Reborn said, completely unruffled.
"What are you talking about, Reborn!? I can't do that!"
For her part, Masami was clinging onto her patience as her brother and her classmate prepared to dance. She rather liked her home, thank you very much, and wasn't at all interested in watching it get destroyed. Ryohei's constant visits were bad enough.
But she had a hold on her emotions. Okaa-san would have been disappointed otherwise.
Until Hayato, a flush high on his cheeks and eyes flashing, whipped out a cigarette and lit it. Predictably, Kyoya's reaction was to narrow his eyes and ready his pair of tonfa for a biting.
There was going to be dynamite blowing up in her home, a lingering scent of smoke that would take weeks to air out, and her student was regressing into herbivorousness, if that was a word.
And even worse, a certain Italian was being reckless again. You would have thought he would learn from his mistakes, but no, apparently not.
Masami smiled coolly and glided forward, holding onto her self-composure in a bloodless grip. Tsunayoshi scrambled out of her way with a squeak while Reborn simply stepped to the left and watched her curiously.
She ignored them both.
Instead, Masami stopped right in front of the two to-be-fighters and tapped her foot on the ground semi-patiently. Alerted by the icy murderous intent in which she had clothed herself, Kyoya and Hayato turned to eye her cautiously, still in combat positions.
"Masami—" Kyoya chided just as Hayato snarled, "Witch—"
She snapped her fan closed with a sharp snap and directed it at the two. "Not in the house...please," Masami warned, poised smile never faltering.
Both of them clearly wanted to argue.
Both of them sensibly did not.
Masami's smile widened a fraction, deceptively angelic and innocent. "Thank you. Now, Sawada-san, please enjoy your dance with Onii-san, while I serve Gokudera-san and Reborn-san tea and coffee."
No one tried to protest.
Two hours later, she watched a limping Tsunayoshi walk home with Reborn scolding him for being so pathetic and Hayato fussing like a mother-hen. Kyoya was off napping in the garden again, and the house was still standing, which was naturally the most important part.
All things considered, Masami mused with a satisfied smile, the visit hadn't honestly gone as bad she'd thought it would. She had spent the majority of the two hours arguing physics with Hayato, with Reborn occasionally chiming in with the mathematical aspect of things.
Which had clued her in on how intelligent the Sun Arcobaleno was. And also—again—how stupid the Smokin' Bomb was, because he was just as smart as she had suspected and knowing that he had been going to kill himself through a case of butterfingers was...frustrating. To say the least.
He could be a revolutionary scientist. He could be a spectacular engineer. He could be so much and yet.
Masami took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
As Hana would say, such a monke—
"All right. What have the monkeys been doing now?" Hana asked, arching an eyebrow. Her arms were crossed over her chest, sharp eyes scanning Masami closely as they wandered down the road to the new shopping center Kyoko had insisted they look at.
Masami blinked, perplexed. "Nothing, Kurokawa-san. As far as I am aware."
Hana snorted, tossing back her long dark hair. "Don't give me that. You look exhausted."
Masami examined her reflection discreetly in a nearby window. There didn't seem to be anything too amiss, although she supposed she should redo her hair when they arrived at their destination since her kanzashi was crooked and several dark strands hung loose.
And maybe her uniform was slightly rumpled from dealing with more of Hayato's shenanigans a few hours ago—at least he'd keep it to an open, abandoned area this time—but it wasn't anything for Hana to openly comment on. "How so?"
"Well," Hana revised, "you look more exhausted than I've ever seen you."
"You do look a little tired, Masa-chan," Kyoko piped up, peering at the other girl with wide, concerned eyes. "You have dark circles under your eyes. Are you okay?"
Dark circles? She had been a bit caught up recently with all of her classwork, homework, paperwork, and sorting out the pandemonium exploding over town, but she hadn't been aware her sleep patterns had suffered so badly. If it was visible however...
"I'm fine," Masami assured. "I've simply been preoccupied with completing Gokudera-san's transfer papers. I'll be done this weekend."
Kyoko smiled, bright as the sun. "That's good! Hey, after we look at the clothing section, do you guys want to check out the makeup aisle? I hear they have a really good selection."
Masami watched Hana press her lips together and spoke up before her classmate could shoot the idea down, "I wouldn't mind."
Kyoko beamed and Hana sighed, and if in the end, Masami bought concealer and foundation for a darker reason than cute boys, then they never needed to know.
Hayato was proficient in Italian, Japanese, English, and French, in that order. Hence, after he had scoped out Juudaime's home, the area around Juudaime's home, the nearby yakuza gangs—they were all pretty small and weak—and the filthier spots in town, he headed straight for the library.
There was no such thing as a language barrier in the pursuit of knowledge!
Of course, Hayato made sure to wait until Juudaime was safely at home and Reborn was there watching over his Boss. There was absolutely no way he would have left his Boss in danger of any kind. That wasn't Right-Hand Man material.
For such a small town, Namimori's Public Library wasn't half-bad. Sure, their Italian books were kept solely to the children's section, and they had a truly deplorable science fiction collection, but their nonfiction area was great. Hayato browsed the shelves for hours, ignoring the startled glances he got from other patrons.
It was like belts and necklaces were illegal in a library or something. Whatever. He was used to being judged.
Carefully balancing a stack of perilously stacked together books, Hayato glared at a guy until he went away and stole his chair and table. He ignored the crash that resulted when he slammed his books down and the stack finally toppled, and the glances that prompted.
Dropping into the chair with a sigh, Hayato ran his hands through his hair and tied it up into a ponytail. Slipping on his glasses, he grabbed the first book and cracked it open.
Then, he read. And read and read while the sunshine steadily lessened, only to be replaced by artificial light, and the dull murmur of voices around him quieted. It was easy to become absorbed in information, in the theories and concepts that he understood so easily.
Hayato wasn't sure what tipped him off at first.
There wasn't much noise at all, so maybe it was the rustle of a skirt or the soft, too-close sounds of breathing. It could have been just his instincts or a glimmer of sable in the corner of his eye.
He didn't know, but he did jolt from his trance long enough to look up after an indeterminable amount of time had passed. It didn't feel like a threat, but you never knew until you were dead.
Hibari Masami lounged casually in the chair on the other side of the table, cheek braced against her knuckles. An open book rested on the table in front of her, and, to his annoyance, the deep purple glasses she wore only accentuated her gray eyes.
They also made her look slightly more harmless than normal, but he ignored that for the sake of his sanity.
Hayato choked on his own spit when the situation finally registered in his befuddled mind. He pushed off frantically from the table and ended up sliding his chair three feet away with a shrill sound like nails on chalkboard. Then, he overbalanced and fell back, landing on the thankfully carpeted floor in a frankly uncomfortable position.
There was a beat of very awkward silence.
"...greetings to you, too, Gokudera-san," Masami said mildly. She probably nodded politely as well, or some other shit like that, but he couldn't exactly see her from this angle.
He groaned. "What the hell are you doing here, maiko witch?"
"This is a public library," she reminded him.
Hayato sneered as he got to his feet but didn't yell. He respected library etiquette, even though the witch really did deserve getting yelled at. "Couldn't you have found a different table?" he grumbled. "I'm busy!"
"Busy reading," she commented. "As was I."
Before you decided to freak out.
He scowled, rearranging himself back into his previous position, albeit with a good two centimeters more between him and his apparent deskmate. "Just shut up. I can't concentrate with—what the fuck are you reading?"
Masami glanced down "Well," she drawled, "it appears to be a book on anger management, but I could be mistaken."
Hayato stared blankly at her. "Why the hell do you need a book on anger management?" he demanded. Even when she had been pissed at him, she had been totally in control of herself and her actions. And, well, Juudaime and Reborn really didn't need this either.
She only raised an eyebrow at him.
He was a certified genius. It only took Hayato a few more seconds to get it. "Oh, right, you have to deal with that homicidal brother of yours." The one who had hurt his Juudaime and the one who Hayato definitely hadn't forgiven. That one.
At that, Masami smiled delicately. "Something like that."
"MAAASSSAAMMIII-SAAAAANNN!"
"I'm sorry for disturbing you, but I think someone's calling for you, Masa-san." Tetsuya said to the dancer in question.
Masami sighed and rubbed at her temples. "I would never have heard," she replied, somewhat dryly. With the addition of Reborn in Tsunayoshi's life, he only seemed to be landing in more predicaments than usual. Cleaning up their messes was becoming more work than it was worth.
Rising from the sofa—where she had been in the process of taking a long overdue nap—she walked to the door and opened it just in time for Tsunayoshi to fall through and sprawl on the carpet. "Greetings, Sawada-san," she said, smiling blandly. "What brings you here? Lunch began ten minutes ago."
Tetsuya very kindly closed the door behind him as he left.
"Masami-san!" Tsunayoshi gasped, scrambling to his feet. His eyes were wide and panicked, and his hands were tugging at his hair. This was clearly off to a wonderful start. "I'm going to get expelled!"
She blinked. "Expelled." That was new.
"Yes, Nezu-sensei said we're going to get expelled if we don't dig up the time capsule in the playground, but there's no way we can do that, and oh, God, I'm never going to see Kyoko-chan again, what am I going to do—"
Whack!
"Hieeee!" Tsunayoshi hit the ground head-first and laid there for a second, hands covering the lump developing on his head. "Masami-san...! What was that for!?"
"You were rambling," she said, taking a seat on the sofa once more. "I didn't understand a word that came out of your mouth."
He grimaced but pulled himself up again and took a deep breath, visibly trying to settle himself. "Okay." Another slow inhale and exhale. "Okay."
Masami waited patiently, and eventually, Tsunayoshi pulled himself together enough to explain, painstakingly, just what had happened. She listened without a word, and when he was done, kept quiet for another minute, thinking.
She had been in Nezu-sensei's class before, she recalled. Technically, she still was, but this was one of the few occasions in which she had taken advantage of her new status as a prefect. The Principal just wasn't courageous enough to demand anything from Kyoya's people.
Simply put, during that first week of school, Dohachiro Nezu had left a rather unattractive impression on Masami with his constant insults and boasting, and she'd never felt the need to return to that science class for anything other than important tests and projects, preferring to study from her textbook instead.
Considering she had received a full grade on her last exam, it seemed to be working just fine.
"You said the time capsule was in the playground?" Masami said at last, tapping her fan against her thigh absently.
"Y-Yeah." Tsunayoshi groaned, rubbing at his eyes.
"And am I right in assuming you would rather not be expelled?"
"Of course!" He was starting to look uneasy now, eyes darting towards the door. Smart boy, but not smart enough.
Masami smiled and glided to the door. She opened it and watched neutrally as Hayato fell through the doorway and sprawled on the carpet with a startled yelp. Halfway through the downward motion, Reborn jumped off of Hayato's head on the way down and landed seamlessly on Masami's shoulder.
"Greetings, Gokudera-san, Reborn-san," she said while Tsunayoshi stuttered incoherently.
"Ciaossu, Masami," Reborn chirped. There was an abrupt thunking sound, and they both turned to see Hayato prostate himself in front of Tsunayoshi, forehead pressed against the floor with absurd force.
"I'm very sorry, Juudaime!" he shouted, apology in every line of his body. "Things turned out like this without me even knowing you didn't want to be expelled that badly!"
Masami wondered who exactly wanted to be expelled.
"Since things are like this, let's dig up the time capsule together, at any cost! I have a good idea in mind, just leave it to me! We don't need her help!" Hayato went on, shooting a nasty glare at Masami, who was entirely unconcerned. "Come on, let's go!"
"Please wait a moment," Masami requested, because there were only so many ways you could recover a time capsule buried underneath a playground. "Precisely how are you planning to accomplish your goal?"
Hayato leaped to his feet, scowling for all he was worth. "That's none of your business, maiko witch! Just stay out of this!"
"G-Gokudera-kun!" Tsunayoshi protested, and Hayato's shoulders fell. Masami couldn't help but sigh when he produced a handful of dynamite sticks.
"No."
"But—"
"Absolutely not." Masami glanced at the clock. "Onii-san will be back in ten minutes. Would you really like to explain to him why you wrecked the playground?"
Tsunayoshi's face acquired a tinge of green.
"I thought so. Would anyone like some tea?"
Kyoya strolled into his sister's office without knocking and twitched.
As expected, Masami was drinking tea, although, unlike usual, she wasn't working on paperwork.
As was completely unexpected and very irritating, she wasn't alone, and it wasn't even prefects surrounding her.
The baby—unnatural, predator, carnivore—sat on a small cushion beside Masami in a full-on tea serving outfit, tiny hands cupped around the steaming cup. Next to him was the bomb herbivore, his sister's newest project apparently, and completing the circle was the omnivore.
A small part of his mind appreciated the unprecedented variety in the room: two carnivores, one omnivore, and one herbivore. The rest of his mind disdained the crowding taking place in his territory.
Kyoya had opened the door into abject silence, so it didn't take long for every eye to turn to him, some more frightened than others. "Masami," he started because this was definitely her fault, "explain."
Masami only smiled, innocent as could be. He had learned to be wary of that look before she was five. "Sawada-san and Gokudera-san would like to report a breach of the school rules."
The omnivore's responding squeak was somewhat mouse-like in nature. The herbivore glowered pathetically.
Kyoya crossed his arms and leaned against the doorway. "What is it?"
"A teacher," she murmured, taking a sip of tea, "appears to be abusing his authority. Dohachiro Nezu plans to expel Sawada-san and Gokudera-san for misconduct of the violent kind."
He snorted. "And what do you want me to do about it?" While Kyoya might appreciate his spars with the omnivore on occasion, those two were her projects, not his.
The herbivore bristled, but the omnivore reined him in easily with a quiet, panicked word. Hmph. Sheep, the both of them.
Masami fanned herself with the weapon he had gotten her for her birthday and smiled demurely. "Excuse us from school for today, please. We're going to go on a tour."
"To where?"
"Nezu-sensei's residence, of course."
The omnivore spit out his tea.
"You're cleaning that up," Kyoya said.
"Masami-san!" Tsuna hissed, fighting the urge to cry as he jogged alongside his insane classmate(s). "Breaking and entering is against the school rules! Breaking and entering is against the law!"
"We have Onii-san's permission," Masami pointed out reasonably.
Or not so reasonably. "That doesn't change a thing! It's still illegal!"
"Don't worry about it, Juudaime!" Gokudera beamed at him and then abruptly whirled on Masami with a scowl. "Oi, maiko witch, don't you dare mess this up for Juudaime! I won't let you get us expelled or whatever you're thinking!"
"I assure you, Gokudera-san, if I wanted to get you expelled, you would be expelled," Masami retorted blandly and turned left, bringing them before a dingy condo. "This is where Nezu-sensei lives."
"We don't have a key, so we aren't going to be able to get in. We should just go back to school and talk to the Principal," Tsuna said, inwardly breathing a sigh of relief.
Which rapidly turned into a high-pitched whine of despair when Masami and Gokudera exchanged a look, and Gokudera silently, sheepishly retrieved a key from his pocket.
"Where did you get that!?" Tsuna shrieked.
"It was on his desk when we visited his classroom," Masami said.
Tsuna whimpered. "That's why we went back?" But then— "Why did we have to go to the convenience store then? And buy all of this—this stuff?" He peered dubiously inside the plastic bag he had been forced to carry.
Gloves, baby wipes, hair nets, odorless odor eliminator!? None of it made sense! And Masami had had to remind Gokudera to buy a trash bag for some reason, too.
"He's never going to catch us, Juudaime! I took classes on this." Hayato grinned, inserting the key and twisting. There was a click that froze Tsuna's next wail of pain, and Masami smiled.
"Here we are." A push and the door opened.
Tsuna stared. "Masami-san?"
"Yes?"
"Have you done this before?" He was feeling a little faint.
Masami's smile wasn't at all reassuring. "Why ever would you think that, Sawada-san?" She reached down and began to remove her boots.
Tsuna's jaw dropped to the floor. "E-Eeeehh?"
Masami didn't seem to hear him. Gokudera turned to Tsuna with a serious look on his face. "Juudaime," he started, and oh no, he knew this wasn't going to end well, "I know I'm not worthy of such an honor, but would you please hand me the trash bag?"
...wait, what? Tsuna shook his head and mustered up, "What?" It wasn't any more coherent than what he'd had in his head.
Masami sighed. "Please give him the trash bag, Sawada-san." Her tone was mellow, but Tsuna still jumped a little and fumbled around until he retrieved the black plastic bag and pressed it into Gokudera's hand.
Gokudera was glaring death daggers at Masami even as he moved to shake the bag out and take off his own shoes. "Oi, don't fucking threaten Juudaime, damn it!"
"Not now, please, Gokudera-san," Masami said, idly overlooking Hayato's fury and complete willingness to start pulling out dynamite. "Sawada-san, shoes off, if you would."
"Uhh...ermm...why?" Tsuna asked, hopping on one foot to try and obey. Gokudera helpfully threw his shoes into the trash bag—what? why?—and moved closer so Tsuna could use him as a brace.
Masami blinked at him. "Footprints."
Tsuna was really, really tempted to walk over and bang his head against the wall. Maybe if he was lucky, he would knock himself out.
"Don't even think about it, Dame-Tsuna," Reborn warned, leaping off the roof and engaging in a flashy sequence of acrobatics before touching down on the ground in a perfect three-point landing. He was wearing a black ninja suit, complete with Leon-colored headgear.
His evil tutor looked up with a smile. "A mafia boss always supports his subordinates in whatever they do. Even if it's illegal. Especially if it's illegal."
While Tsuna was preoccupied with bemoaning his life, Masami plucked his shoes out of his hands and threw them into the trash bag. Gokudera tied up the bag with quick, deft movements, and hurled it through the air so it ended up plopped down in front of the driveway.
"Here, Juudaime!" Gokudera handed a speechless Tsuna gloves and launched another pair at Masami with unnecessary force. She caught it with ease, and they both tugged their gloves on before turning to stare expectantly at Tsuna.
"Stop being such a space cadet," Reborn scolded, kicking Tsuna in the stomach. "You're holding everyone up."
"Ooph! Alright, alright!" Gasping, Tsuna bent over and hurriedly put on the gloves. They were surprisingly comfortable. Gokudera hovered over him, hands held out like he wanted to help, but didn't know how.
"The wipes, please?"
"I—I, why—" Despite his protests, Tsuna groped around inside the paper bag until he found the baby wipes and gave the container to Masami.
"Fingerprints." She pulled out a sheet and proceeded to clean the 'contaminated' doorknob.
"Don't forget the key," Gokudera grunted.
"Hai. Sawada-san, hairnets."
Tsuna mutely handed them over. Masami seemed to anticipate his question anyway. "Hair has DNA, you know."
Tsuna slid down to his knees, gripped at his hairnet, and tried not to hyperventilate. Reborn gave him three minutes to wallow in misery before he barked, "Dame-Tsuna, get yourself together."
Tsuna stood up. And got himself together. Glancing around, he was startled to find that his friends had already gone in before him. It took Tsuna fifteen seconds to realize how suspicious he must look to the neighbors and rush inside, leaving Reborn to shut the door.
Masami and Gokudera hadn't gone far. They were standing in the hallway, already talking—arguing—strategy.
"The bastard probably has the files on his computer!" Gokudera argued, spraying around odor eliminator like it was going out of style. "We should check his office!"
"If he does have any ambiguous papers," Masami said, "then he would hide them somewhere close. In his bedroom, for example."
Tsuna's eyes were stinging. "We're going into Nezu-sensei's bedroom!?"
"See!? Juudaime agrees with me! We should go through his office!" Gokudera said triumphantly, sending Tsuna an adoring look.
Tsuna fought down a sob. "We're going through Nezu-sensei's office!?"
"Why don't you just do both?" Reborn suggested. "Gokudera can investigate his office, and Masami can investigate his bedroom. Tsuna will overlook the entire inspection.
Tsuna swayed from side to side dangerously. "Why is this my life?" he moaned.
As it turned out, they were both right. Hayato easily hacked into Nezu's computer and found both real and forged school transcripts. Meanwhile, Masami discovered copies of the actual papers in a box under his bed, along with several books and photo albums of highly questionable material.
Really, the former was condemning enough. The latter was too much. She had only been trying to avoid the paperwork when she'd suggested this errant tour. Even Masami hadn't expected this.
"Oh my God," Tsunayoshi said when he saw the papers. Then, he saw the books and photo albums. "Oh my God."
Hayato took one look at the contents of the box Masami held and erupted in a long stream of strange words that made no sense to either of them. She had the sneaky feeling he was cursing Nezu-sensei out in Italian.
Masami tilted her head and listened, imprinting into memory several of the phrases he was spitting out. With the way her life was veering, it sounded like a good precaution, even though she rarely cursed in Japanese, much less in Italian.
Now that she thought about it...perhaps she should start learning Italian? It seemed likely that she would be traveling to Italy sometime soon. That shouldn't make her happy. It did. She chose not to think about the reason.
"M-Masami-san?" Tsunayoshi stared, wide-eyed, at her. "Are you alright?"
She wasn't even in the mood to reprimand his slight lapse in speech. That should say something about her current mental state. Instead, Masami smiled, sweet and nice, just like Okaa-san had taught her. "I'm fine, Sawada-san. Please don't worry."
Amusingly enough, Tsunayoshi very blatantly plastered a disbelieving look on his face.
But it was the truth. This wasn't the all-consuming, arctic rage that had taken her over during that incident with the yakuza. This wasn't even the cutting, acidly indignant fury that had colored her words back with the dynamite.
This was quieter. Purring, venomous, smug satisfaction. She was going to destroy that man, tear apart his reputation and ruin the rest of his life for good, and God, either she was picking up more of Okaa-san's tendencies than expected or there was something very wrong with her equilibrium.
Masami knew which she was betting on.
"You have what you wanted," Reborn commented, staring up at her with incisive, knowing eyes. "What will you do now?"
"What do you mean, Reborn-san?" Tsunayoshi's brow furrowed, his innocence yet untainted. "We're going to give this to the Principal...right?"
Masami traded a look with Hayato, for once the two of them on the exact same wavelength. "No," she said. "No, we're not."
The crash of the cardboard box on Kyoya's desk was loud, shattering the silence. Not even flinching, Kyoya looked up and scowled. Who dared to interrupt his peace?
"Greetings, Onii-san," Masami said, sweeping an elaborate bow. The herbivore and omnivore stood behind her, lingering in the doorway nervously. "We've brought you some gifts."
Kyoya frowned. He knew his sister tended to hide behind the intricate manners and exquisite decorum their mother had trained into her when she was upset. Rather than peer inside the box, he leaned back and looked at Masami.
It was subtle.
Most people would never notice, not with that pure smile and ladylike posture. But Kyoya was Masami's brother, knew her better than any other living creature in this world, and he saw the deadly edge of anger in her eyes.
Worse than he had thought then. It was beyond rare for Masami to lose her temper, even with the added stress of the baby's recent antics.
Kyoya straightened up and considered the box.
The next day, Dohachiro Nezu woke up groaning in a hospital bed. Beside him were the papers that spelled his formal dismissal from Namimori Middle. There was also a notice that there would be a note put on his police record.
And, naturally, two days after that, Yamamoto Takeshi stood at the edge of the rooftop with his arm in a sling and the wind tugging at his hair, the ground oh so very far away.
OpalescentGold: So Hayato and Masami meet and fight, Tsuna bemoans his existence as usual, and Kyoya is sick of all these herbivores and their nonsense. Also, that last breaking-and-entering scene was inspired by tumblr minfic, 'rulebreaker au' by exocarapace, and you all should check them out, because they're awesome.
Also, a great big shout-out to my beta. Lovely work, as usual.
Well, what did you think of Hayato and Masami? Hmm, oh, I'm on tumblr, too! So feel free to find me there. Reviews make my day. ^_^
Geisha: a type of Japanese entertainer; culturally elite group who are focused on beauty and aesthetics.
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.
Maiko: trainee Geisha who typically undergo training from their mid teens to early twenties.
Tessen: heavy folding fans with outer spokes made of heavy plates of iron.
Zabuton: thin pillows used as cushions to sit on.