Chapter Three

That Disguise Does Not Suit You

“Go away Reborn!” Kiyohiko groaned, covering his head with a pillow. “It’s vacation between grades; I don’t need to get up this early!”

“Nonsense Yohi. You need to train today to become a proper Mafia boss.”

“I’ve trained every day since you came! Can’t I get a little bit of rest on the last two days of freedom before high school starts?!”

“The real Mafia never sleeps, even when women and children are involved. Now get up,” Reborn stated. At this, Kiyohiko sat up straight in bed and glared at the baby.

“You don’t think I know that?!” he hissed. “Now go away.”

“Now that is more like the resolve you are capable of,” Reborn said. Kiyohiko flopped back down in bed out of frustration and tried to ignore the child.

Just go to sleep, Yohi. It’s Saturday and the sun isn’t out yet…

“Now when I trained your father, it took him a while to naturally find that sort of resolve,” Reborn continued. Kiyohiko sat back up again and did his best to stare the baby down.

“Don’t start telling lies now,” he growled. “Stop comparing me with my dad; you weren’t even born then.” The teen flopped back down adamantly and jerked the covers over his head.

Not too long afterwards, a miniature bomb found its way under Kiyohiko’s bed.

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“He’s trying to kill me Hana-san!” Kiyohiko protested through a bowl of breakfast cereal. His uncle’s girlfriend raised an eyebrow from across the kitchen table.

“Kill you?” she questioned.

“Yeah! He says he’s training me, but all the kid’s doing is trying to blast me to the next world! He planted a bomb under my bed this morning!”

“Hm. I thought that had just been Ryohei and Masaru slamming into something again.”

Breakfast under the Sasagawa-Kurokawa-Sawada roof seemed to always start out in such a fashion. Hana, armed with a newspaper and peanut butter-slathered toast, would start working on a pot of coffee sometime around five-thirty. Kiyohiko would join her before six struck and they would discuss the happenings of the household from their perspectives. They were often able to figure out when Ryohei and Masaru were plotting something and did most of their own planning this way. At seven, the sweaty, smelly Sasagawa men would burst in through the door after being out running and whatnot since Hana sat down with her coffee and antics would commence. It was like clockwork.

Since Reborn came to live there, however, the mornings had become the one part of the day Kiyohiko always longed for due to the more-intellectual normalcy of it all.

“Can’t you do something about this, Hana-san?” Kiyohiko pleaded. “I’m not living in Japan to become a Mafia boss! There’s got to be something…!”

“Kyoko-chan and Sawada wouldn’t do anything that had the chance of killing their only son,” Hana said, turning back to her paper. “If they sent Reborn-kun here, then the reason must be very good.”

“You still get a rash after touching children, don’t you?” Kiyohiko deadpanned, unimpressed with the woman’s answer.

“Damn thing made me break out in hives two days ago; your cousin should be happy he was old enough for me to just slightly itch when Ryohei and I got together.”

“If you’re allergic, then we can get rid of him!”

“I am not kicking Reborn-kun out of this house.”

“…but!”

“No; I am not kicking that… thing… out because he is the tutor your parents sent over as an education supplement. I would be a horrible guardian if I retarded your educational opportunities because of a few cases of hives.”

“…Hana-sa-a-a-an…!”

“I bought allergy medicine last night; I think I can deal.”

“You might be able to deal, but I might end up dying,” Kiyohiko muttered, slumping down to rest his chin on the tabletop. “Can’t we be a normal family?”

“No matter how you slice it, us talking like this is probably the most normal part about this house,” Hana said, taking another sip of coffee.

“HEY! I’M HOME!” shouted Masaru as he burst in through the front door of the house, out of the line of Hana and Kiyohiko’s vision. “DAD LEFT ALREADY FOR HIBARI-JIJI’S ‘CAUSE TSUNA-OJI LEFT HIM A MESSAGE THERE!”

“Do you have to shout?” Kiyohiko asked once Masaru plodded into the kitchen. “We’re right here, you know.”

“Just wanted to make sure you heard me before I forgot,” Masaru grinned, reaching for an apple on the counter. “You know I have the extreme tendency to forget things.”

“Which is why you need to start using that notepad I bought you,” Hana interjected.

“Hana-san…” Masaru whined.

“Do not make me put down this newspaper or you are going to wish Hibari was coming back here instead of your dad.”

Masaru quieted, knowing how serious the threats were that came from his father’s girlfriend. He took another bite of apple and glanced over at his cousin. “Hey, what do you want to do today, since it’s Saturday?”

“I was hoping for some peace and quiet,” Kiyohiko sighed.

“Well, I ran into Haruhi on my way back and she said that Yama-jii gave her an old bokken her dad used to use when he was younger. I was thinking that we could go to the shrine and have an extreme training session in all the space they have up there!”

“Take your father’s special MMA gloves then,” Hana said, not even looking up from the paper, “the set with the ceramic in the palms; you’ll need it if you’re going to spar with that girl if it is the bokken I am thinking of.”

“Alright!” Masaru cheered. He took a final bite of his apple and rushed up the stairs, tossing the core away in the process. Kiyohiko groaned and allowed his forehead to connect with the table once again.

Was one normal Saturday too much to ask?

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“So here’s the shrine; I wonder where Haruhi is,” Masaru said, glancing around the perimeter. It was quiet and peaceful underneath the shady trees. The teen was already wearing the MMA gloves, itching for a fight.

Kiyohiko, on the other hand, was lugging a knapsack filled with first aid supplies. The last time Haruhi and Masaru had a proper duel, both were nearly hospital-bound. The younger boy sat down on the grass and sighed in irritation.

“I can’t believe that even though you say you won’t fight girls, you keep on having bouts with Haruhi-san like it’s nothing,” Kiyohiko said.

“That’s ‘cause Haruhi’s extremely different.”

“How’s Haruhi-san different?”

“Well, she doesn’t act like a girl and she doesn’t dress like one or sound like one and besides… she starts half the fights anyways. Do you really want me to be helpless to the extreme against that?”

“I don’t know… it might knock some sense into you,” Kiyohiko frowned. He reached into the knapsack for a bottle of water that he had brought, but jumped back when he felt something moving inside.

“What the…!?” he gasped. Kiyohiko jumped to his feet and hid behind Masaru, who immediately crouched into a martial arts stance. Reborn crawled out of the knapsack, dressed in a puppy outfit.

“Woof. Woof,” the infant hitman said. Masaru relaxed and turned towards his cousin.

“Why’d you let a dog inside your bag?” he asked.

“IT’S NOT A DOG!!” Kiyohiko protested. He then turned to Reborn. “Can’t you leave me be for even an hour!?”

“I am required to be there for your training as a Mafia boss until you are ready as I see fit,” Reborn stated, hopping up onto Kiyohiko’s shoulder. “You should know better than to try to run away from me, Yohi. Woof. Woof.”

“Yeah, Little Cousin, you should know better than to disobey the talking dog,” Masaru scolded lightly. Kiyohiko’s jaw dropped, the boy not knowing whether or not to take the comment seriously.

“Yo! Sorry I’m late!” called Haruhi. Kiyohiko and Masaru glanced over towards the stairs leading to the shrine and saw Haruhi running up the stairs with a wooden bokken and a knapsack of her own. She had on a short skirt and nice blouse, which startled her friends for a moment.

“Did your mom attack you or something?” Masaru asked as she trotted up to them. He could barely keep his eyes off Haruhi, who rolled her eyes and sighed.

“Yeah. I need a minute to get changed in the shrine, if you don’t mind,” she replied. “Mom was in one of her moods again, talking to me about how I have to look more like a girl and not like a boy and all that jazz. I don’t think she gets how annoying girl clothes are.”

“I think you look nice,” Kiyohiko piped up, trying to be polite. Haruhi scoffed.

“Thanks man, but you don’t spar in a skirt. It’s kind of a stupid move,” she said before walking off towards the shrine. After making sure no one was in there, she closed the door.

“Wanna go peek?” Masaru asked Kiyohiko with a stupid grin upon his face.

“No…!” Kiyohiko gasped. “I am not peeking at Haruhi-san!”

“Come on… I know you like her too,” Masaru teased. “You saw those legs. She may be one of the guys and our best friend and all, but you have to admit that was sexy as hell.”

“…and you’re going to get your balls handed to you if you aren’t careful,” Kiyohiko said. “What would Hana-san say if she knew you peeked at Haruhi-san?”

“Oh… good point…” Masaru mused.

“I would prepare yourself for quite a fight if I were you, Masaru,” Reborn warned. “That sword that Haruhi was carrying with her was no ordinary wooden sword.”

“What do you mean?” Masaru asked. Reborn was about to respond when Haruhi slammed open the door to the shrine, bokken in hand. Dressed in jeans and layered t-shirts, she looked much more in her element than before.

“Alright you moron, come on over here,” she smiled eerily. Kiyohiko took a healthy step away from his cousin as the angry girl advanced on Masaru.

“What…?” Masaru asked, looking nervously at the bokken. “Why’re you so mad, Haruhi-chan?”

“I could hear you, dumbass,” Haruhi said, not even bothering to wipe the grin from her face. Anyone else who was looking on would have thought the girl was pleased. “Be glad Yohi-kun was here to keep you in check, or you’d be unconscious right now.”

“Try me,” Masaru grinned. Kiyohiko blanched, as he knew what was coming. The bokken flew towards Masaru’s face, only stopped by the boy’s hands. All three teens gaped when they saw that the bokken Haruhi was using had turned into an actual metal sword there in her hands. Masaru’s hands were only saved by the ceramic plates in his gloves.

“Holy crap!?” Kiyohiko gasped, so startled that he fell to the ground. “Haruhi-san, what kind of bokken did your dad used to keep anyways?”

“Totally awesome ones!” the girl replied, marveling at the weapon in excitement. “Dude…! How cool is this!?”

“Extremely cool!” Masaru agreed. He and Haruhi jumped back from one another and prepared to begin their fight for real.

“Reborn! I don’t want them to fight!” Kiyohiko said, angrily glaring at the well-dressed infant. “It’s bad enough they’re always competing in gym class, but I don’t want them to start fighting with a real sword or anything like that!”

“You do not understand, Yohi,” Reborn stated, sitting down next to Kiyohiko as the fight continued. “Haruhi and Masaru are part of your Family now; they need to test themselves in order to remain by your side. Fighting friends who know your moves and tendencies is probably one of the best training methods one can employ. If someone knows how predictable you are, then it shall force both parties to change their fighting styles in order to win.”

“…but does it have to mean fighting up here where Hibari-san or Osamu-san could catch us?”

“I believe that you need to live life a little bit on the edge, Future Boss of the Vongola,” Reborn said, suddenly sipping a cup of tea. “If you do not learn to relax, you shall be driven to insanity.”

“Great… that’s just what I needed,” the teen sighed. He leaned back on the palms of his hands and watched Haruhi and Masaru fight it out. “Can I ask you something, Reborn?”

“What is it Yohi?”

“You made me do some pretty crazy things this week, right?”

“I made you do useful things.”

“Something tells me that normal people aren’t thrown off buildings, made to run the entire perimeter of their hometown five times in a row or even abandoned in the woods for two days.”

“Who ever said you were normal?” Reborn quietly sipped his tea and appeared to be reflecting. “You are the heir to the most powerful Mafia family in the entire world; nothing about you has been normal since the day you were born.”

“You see, that’s the thing… I just want to be normal,” Kiyohiko explained. “Dad knows I came here to be normal. Plenty of Mafia children grow up to not become involved in their parents’ line of work and I’m fully aware of it. I know that Gokudera-san is making so sure that his son doesn’t even know that he is involved in the Mafia that I’m sure not even my dad has met him… and Gokudera-san keeps nothing from my dad. Why can’t I be like Gokudera-san’s son and just stay out of everything?”

“It is because of your blood,” Reborn answered.

“Blood?”

“It is your birthright to ascend to power in the Vongola and ascend to power you shall. I believe that it is just a good thing that you proved your resolve to me earlier this morning, or you would have surely been shot with the Dying Will Bullet already today and would be fighting with Haruhi and Masaru.”

“Splendid.” Kiyohiko looked back at the fight, which seemed to be slowing down with fatigue, and pondered a bit more. “Dad’s told me a bunch of stories about when he was first introduced to the Vongola and they frighten me. Will I have to go through that stuff too?”

“Yes and no,” the infant said. “You deal with what heads your way how it comes and nothing more, nothing less.”

“You’re too vague, you know that?”

“It is my job as your home tutor to make you think.”

“I should have known,” Kiyohiko groaned. He watched as Haruhi and Masaru both collapsed into the dust, worn out by their spins and flips accomplished during their sparring session. “I really should have known ever since I got on the plane to Japan.”

A/N: I do realize I could have written a chapter or two of material between this chapter and the one before it; I’m saving that material for a special occasion. Also, please, please, leave a review. :D