Chapter Two

Don’t Bring Them into This!

“Isn’t it great jii-chan?!” Haruhi grinned as she leaned onto the counter in Takesushi. She took off her sweatshirt and tied it around her waist before finally sitting down. “Yohi-kun’s gonna train so that he turns out just like Tsuna-oji!”

“That’s really splendid,” Tsuyoshi grinned as he put out some plates of sushi on the counter for Haruhi and her friends. “It’s a good aspiration to want to be like your old man Yohi.” The shop was empty, as it usually was for a weekday morning before the initial lunch rush, allowing the three teens to talk to the old man without the threat of being overheard. The incident with Kiyohiko beating up the yakuza thugs the day before had ended in a successful evasion of the angered men and Haruhi and Masaru laughing it all off. Now they were visiting Yamamoto Tsuyoshi, who was viewed by all three as a grandfather figure despite only being Haruhi’s blood family, and told him all about the adventures of the day before.

“I don’t want to be like him though,” Kiyohiko muttered, popping a roll of sushi in his mouth. “That thing Reborn shot me with makes people tell lies or something.”

“It is called the Dying Will Bullet,” Reborn said, smacking Kiyohiko on the back of the head. “You must be denser than your father. When shot with it in the head, it brings forth one’s dying will and they are compelled to do the one thing they regret not doing before death.”

“So then you regretted not becoming like Tsuna-oji?” Masaru asked with a mouth full of rice.

“No, I didn’t!” Kiyohiko protested. “Becoming my dad is the exact opposite of what I want to do. I’d rather just quietly go into a company translating things into all those stupid languages I learned as a kid and work there. No mafia, no tutors and definitely no bullets to the head. For one, it would be a lot safer.”

“…but Dad and Hana-san told us at dinner last night that you’re a lot like Tsuna-oji was.”

“Yeah, back in middle school. I thought that I was off the hook if I got through to high school without being dragged into this.”

“You have not been taught much when it comes to the history of the Vongola, have you?” Reborn asked, helping himself to some of Kiyohiko’s sushi. “The traditional age to start off a future boss with proper Vongola training is upon entering high school. Your father only received his rings early due to the urgency the Cradle Affair and its aftermath created. If it had been left to normal means, then he would have been thrust into everything just as you have been now.”

“I still don’t see why a Japanese has to take charge of an Italian mafia syndicate anyways,” Kiyohiko grumbled, chewing on the tip of a chopstick. Reborn kicked him in the face.

“I have told you that the First Vongola boss retired to Japan and started the family that created you,” he said. “The Primo was not a fool and knew that it would be a good idea to have another branch of the family off in a neutral reserve, away from the politics that surrounded the Italian Mafia world. It is due to this blood that you are able to rightfully claim your spot as a Vongola boss.”

“I still think they’ll hate me just as they hate my dad.”

“…and that is why you are going to need to build a family to back you up,” Reborn said. “I do believe Haruhi and Masaru here will do just fine as your first members.”

“What!? No!!” Kiyohiko gasped. “Don’t bring them into this! Haruhi-san has her baseball and Masaru-nii is busy just passing the grade levels! They don’t have the time!”

“I do believe if their fathers could do it, then so could they.” Reborn looked at Haruhi and smiled. “Would you like to be in the Mafia?”

“Sure! That’s the codename stuff that dad always uses for his work so I would think he was cool when I was younger, so I’m willing to play along with your little game!” Kiyohiko and Masaru both ended up choking on their sushi in surprise.

“Haruhi-san, that’s not a codename or a game. This kid is talking about the real mafia. You saw him shoot me yesterday.”

“Yeah Haruhi. I’m towards the bottom of the class and I’m smart enough to know about the Mafia,” Masaru added.

“…but this is a baby. Why would a little baby be talking about throwing you into the real Mafia, Yohi-kun?” Haruhi picked up Reborn and began to cuddle him. “Come on; kids don’t know about that kind of stuff, right? I know I believed it for the longest time. Yesterday must have just been a really cool trick he pulled.”

“Masaru-nii!” Kiyohiko cried as the two crouched into a Cousin Huddle. “Haruhi-san has thought this entire thing is just a game! What are we going to do?!”

“This is going to be tricky Little Cousin,” Masaru replied. “Haruhi’s a woman and women need to be dealt with extremely carefully.”

“Where’d you learn talk like that?”

“Luss-oji; he said it was one of the basics I have to learn about being a man.”

“Yeah, well Lussuria-san doesn’t take into account the fact that Haruhi-san isn’t exactly like other girls,” Kiyohiko said. The boys glanced over to see Haruhi still fawning over the miniature hitman in one of the most feminine displays of emotion they had observed in a long time.

“…most of the time,” Masaru amended.

“Still, what are we going to do?” Kiyohiko looked completely frustrated with the entire situation.

“You boys worried about my idiot granddaughter?” Tsuyoshi asked with a chuckle. Kiyohiko and Masaru both stared at the old man as he continued to clean a spot on the counter.

“Sir, Haruhi’s no idiot; she has the best grades out of all of us,” Kiyohiko protested.

“Ah, but she’s an idiot like her mother and father. There’s nothing academic about it.” Tsuyoshi leaned in towards them and dropped his voice. “Took her father a few years to get sharp enough to realize what was going on, but he still was as dangerous as they come, so I wouldn’t worry about her.”

“Are you sure jii-chan?” Masaru asked.

“Of course,” Tsuyoshi grinned. “She was raised with this stuff. Just give her some time.”

“Give who some time?” Haruhi asked, popping her head into the huddle.

“Nothing, Haruhi-chan,” her grandfather said, straightening back to his full height.

“So then Kiyohiko, I assume you have talked Masaru into joining your Family?” Reborn asked, walking across the counter so that he was between the two cousins.

“Nuh-uh. I want to keep both of them out of this!” Kiyohiko demanded, gesturing towards Masaru and Haruhi. “Stop trying to get them in on this.”

“I thought it was assumed I was going to join,” Masaru interjected. His cousin gaped at him.

“Wha…?”

“Well you are getting ready to become a Vongola boss and Haruhi’s gonna go with you, so I think it would be extremely irresponsible of me to just let this fly without coming along for support. My cousin and friend are not going to go into this thing without backup!”

“Yamamoto-jii… help me…!” Kiyohiko whined, slumping into the counter.

“Nothing I can do other than wish you luck,” Tsuyoshi replied. “I’m sure you’ll do fine, just like your old man.”

“Stop comparing me to him!” Kiyohiko snapped. He stood up briskly and stormed out the front of the shop.

“Do you think we should go after him Masaru-kun?” Haruhi asked after an awkward silence.

“At least let’s finish up Yama-jii’s sushi first,” Masaru shrugged. “Little Cousin’s been extremely touchy about his dad lately. Let him cool off.” He then grabbed the remainder of his cousin’s sushi and helped himself.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Kiyohiko sat down on the park bench and watched as young children ran about during playtime in the distance. It was a brisk day for Spring, which he really did not mind. It was just… well…

How come everyone wants me to be like my dad? Kiyohiko thought to himself, taking out his cellular phone to idly play with it. He frowned and looked down at his sneakers. I’m here so that I become my own person, not so that I follow in Dad’s footsteps. I don’t want to be Mafia; I’m not cut out for it. The whole thing is just too dangerous for my tastes. In fact, I should just be lucky I’m still alive now that I think about it…

Suddenly, two large hands grabbed Kiyohiko’s shoulders from behind. The teen looked behind him to see two burly men in suits staring down at him.

“Sawada Kiyohiko, we would like you to come with us,” one of them said. Kiyohiko’s eyes went wide and tried to jump up to make a run for it, but the next thing he saw was black.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

“So I wonder where Yohi-kun ran off to,” Haruhi mused as she walked down the street next to Masaru, hands resting behind her head. It had been a whole hour since Kiyohiko ran off by himself and neither of his pursuers were in a rush to find him. She glanced over at Masaru and frowned. She may have looked out-of-place in her usual boy’s clothes, but the button-up shirt with boxing shorts looked ridiculous.

“I’m extremely confused right now,” Masaru said, scratching his oddly light hair. “He didn’t pick up his cell phone earlier and he always does, even if I’m calling him from the other room.”

“What are you doing calling from the other room?”

“Hana-san says if I use my extreme voice any time after nine at night, she’ll throttle me.”

“It’s just Hana-san though.”

“Yeah, but Dad said he’d help.”

“Ah.” Haruhi took her cellular phone out of her pocket and dialed Kiyohiko’s number for the third time since walking out of Takesushi. She was ready to apologize and vow to stay out of the Mafia game for good when she picked up the sound of a familiar ringtone.

“I hear Yohi-kun’s phone!” she said excitedly. Haruhi and Masaru took off in the direction the music—a Vivaldi piece that both of them only recognized because it was Kiyohiko’s ringtone—came from. They found the cellular phone lying in the grass at a children’s park.

“Oh, no…” Masaru gasped. “He must have been really mad at us!”

“On the contrary, Masaru,” said a voice. Reborn lowered himself from a nearby tree branch with a rope, coming to hover only a few feet away from the teens. “Kiyohiko has been taken by some of the yakuza men he injured yesterday. Now that they have had a day to recover, I believe they are more dangerous than they were before.”

“This is extremely bad,” Masaru panicked. “I can’t let him get captured by yakuza! What kind of a cousin would I be then?!”

“You’re over-reacting Masaru-kun,” Haruhi laughed. “Let’s just go to that shop Yohi-kun went to yesterday and ask them where he is. I’m sure he has them in on this.”

“That’s right! The yakuza shop!” Masaru said before bolting off. Haruhi had to scramble to keep up the pace.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

It was raining and the hitmen from the opposing family had tried to use the rain to hide their tracks. It was stereotypical for sure, but it had been what happened. Bodies were slumped over in the mud, one set apart from the rest by casual attire stained by the blood of many. Kiyohiko stood there, ten again, staring at the body with a horrified look on his face.

“Paul-nii-san…!”

There was a commotion going on behind him, which caused Kiyohiko to turn around. His father was there, fighting who was obviously the leader of the band of assassins. The Dying Will Flame was burning bright upon his forehead and engulfing his hands. A wave of helplessness rushed over Kiyohiko.

The boy looked back at the body dressed in denim and a rock concert shirt. The young man’s dark limbs were frozen into a pose that looked like he was getting ready to sit back up, rigor mortis prematurely set from the adrenaline gained in fight the attackers had put up. Kiyohiko went over to the body and touched the shoulder in hopes that the young man might straighten up again; his eyes were still open.

“Paul-nii-san,” Kiyohiko sniffed. “Please get up. My dad’s here. Come on. Get up. Dad can fix it.” There was a burst of pain in his side. “Come on… my dad will fix things. Wake up.” In the back of his mind, the part of him that was looking at the event retrospectively knew it was no use.

Dad was not going to fix this. He could not. The Mafia took lives; it did not save them.

Another blast of pain in his side and Kiyohiko cried out. He woke up, finding his arms bound and that what he thought was a stream of rain pouring down his face in his dream was a trickle of blood from a cut on his forehead. The floor was cold cement and his vision had been blurred by unconsciousness. Another swift kick connected with his stomach and he curled up in pain.

“How does it feel, boy?!” someone snarled. Kiyohiko looked up to see a man who had been bandaged up looking down at him angrily. “How does it feel to be on the shitty side of things?”

“Who are you…?” the teen managed to say. The man scoffed.

“You mean you don’t remember? You came into my shop yesterday and beat the crap out of everyone. It’s not a good idea to make enemies with the yakuza, kid.”

“I didn’t know you were yakuza.”

“Bullshit. Why would anyone go after us unless they have a death wish?” Kiyohiko felt himself being lifted up by the front of his shirt and he saw the man’s angry face only centimeters from his own. “Now tell me you little brat, how in the hell’d you beat us all up like that?!”

“I don’t know. I didn’t even want to be near you guys in the first place…” Kiyohiko answered. The yakuza threw him on the ground and kicked him again.

“Don’t lie to me kid!”

“LITTLE COUSIN!!” shouted Masaru’s voice from far off. The yakuza stopped mid-kick and glanced behind him, where Kiyohiko presumed was a door.

“What the…?”

Suddenly, the door to the room burst open. Masaru and Haruhi piled into the room, the former bleeding at the knuckles and the latter clutching a severely dented baseball bat.

“Who are you kids?” the yakuza demanded. “How’d you get through my guards?!”

“Don’t you dare take my cousin like that,” Masaru growled. The teen rushed forward and knocked out the yakuza in one blow.

“Nii-san! Haruhi-san!” Kiyohiko breathed as Haruhi untied him. It took a moment before all the emotion washed over him. “You came for me…! That was too dangerous! Don’t you know you could have been hurt!?”

“Hey, the fact we have you back is all we need Yohi-kun,” Haruhi grinned. “Can you stand?”

“I think so…”

“Good, ‘cause it seems like I’ll have to carry back Masaru-kun here,” the girl said, jabbing her thumb over her shoulder. Kiyohiko looked and saw that Masaru had passed out from exhaustion and was now sleeping on the cement floor. “Idiot only let me beat up about a quarter of the people trying to attack us in that obstacle course thing; he was so worried that he forgot to pace himself.”

“Then I believe that the first two members have been found,” Reborn declared, appearing on Haruhi’s shoulder. “You should find yourself a lucky man to have such devoted individuals to be the first ones to join, Yohi.”

“Who ever gave you permission to call me ‘Yohi’?!” Kiyohiko asked, his voice cracking in dismay.

“Come, we have much work to do if you are going to become real Mafia hitmen,” Reborn told Haruhi as she shifted Masaru onto her back, completely ignoring Kiyohiko in the process. Kiyohiko followed them out into the hall and gulped at the mounds of unconscious yakuza lining the halls.

This was definitely the last thing he had wanted for his cousin and best friend to become involved with.