Chapter 1 Prologue To Greater Things
WARNING: The following fic may contain unnecessary amounts of cheese and B.S.
DISCLAIMOR: The following is a non-profit fan-based parody, Katekyo Hitman Reborn and Negima! Magister Negi Magi are owned by Akira Amino and Ken Akamatsu, respectively. Please support the official release.
Mafia Boss Tutor Tsuna-Prologue
'There were certain beings in this world', one Konoe Konoemon mused to himself as he watched the man sitting in the chair opposite of him, 'that wear power the way an ordinary man might wear a fine tailored coat.'
Some people were taught from birth through rigorous training to show off their power, their "superiority" over their fellows. Some started from lower stations and painstakingly clawed their way up, imitating what they saw of those successful until they too could stand alongside the privileged few. Then there were those for who were simply born with an almost preternatural instinct to find what made others bend to their whims regardless of background, and that power seeps from them like a scent touching all those who saw them.
'Which perhaps is why it is so ironic that you as one of the most powerful men in the entire world', for that was exactly who sitting directly across from Konoemon at this very moment, 'seem to exude exactly none of that terrible power at your fingertips.'
Dressed in a rather simple if expensive brown pin striped suit Timoteo Vongole', better known as Vongola Nono the leader of an (somewhat legal) organization both older and significantly more powerful than most of the nations on the western hemisphere; sat directly across him carefully taking in everything around him. Beautiful (terrifying) amber orange eyes carelessly flicked across the room with abstract curiosity, seeing far more than ordinary mortal eyes ever could. His body language totally and utterly relaxed, looking more like someone's grandfather popping in to visit an old acquaintance, rather than the powerful near ruthless crime lord, who'd ruled unopposed over his empire for the better part of 40 years.
'In truth, I'm probably far worse' Konoemon thought wryly, dressed in a white robe and a pair of slippers, he really looked like someone's retired grandpa out for an early morning walk let alone the head of an ancient and secret organization that was a part of an even more ancient society dwelling in mankind's shadows since its inception. The only thing to ruin their images as a couple of old men catching up (which really, until Timoteo initiated otherwise, they kind of were) were the two lines of fairly dangerous looking men and women behind them both.
Standing behind and to Konoemon's right was Takamichi Takahata, hands 'harmlessly' resting in his coat pockets, back leaned against the wall, posture slouched, but tawny eyes shifting with razor awareness. On Takamichi's right was Akashi-kun in a similar posture, hands not reaching for, but within grabbing distance of his neatly concealed pistols, Nijuin was to his right.
On Konoemon's left Toko Kuzunoha, the only one on Konoemon's side with a visible weapon; though to her credit she kept her arms visibly flat at her sides and off the blade's handle-this was a peaceful meeting after all- her cold eyes watching the men on the other side of the desk with open distrust. To Kuzunoha's left was Sister Shakti, blank eyes neither hostile nor accepting, merely observing carefully. Finishing the line was Gandofini whom like Kuzunoha didn't try to hide his distrust.
Behind Timoteo were his most trusted, his Guardian's he believed they were called.
There was that old war hawk Coyote "The Storm" Nougat to Timoteo's right, as always, metal arm crossed and intimidating; the equally surly "Cloud Guardian" Visconti to his right and leaning against the wall behind them both was the scarred morose looking figure of Brabanters "The Rain" Schnitten.
On Vongole's left was a younger man mid-thirties the spitting image of the late "Lightning Guard" Gamauche II, which meant this was likely Gamauche III; the man had an amused smile on his face, the only one other than the two old men in the center who probably felt as relaxed as he looked. To Gamauche's left was a tall tattooed dark-skinned man with soulless pupil-less eyes that could only be Timoteo's "Guardian of the Mist"; Konoemon always was weary of those who bared powers of the illusive Mist from Vongole's corner of the supernatural world. Finally, to the Mist's left was a young man who couldn't be past his early to mid-twenties whom Konoe couldn't place in the slightest, but by process of elimination, meant that he was Timoteo's new "Guardian of the Sun".
He did not miss the symmetry of the fact that his people were dressed in white suits, while Timoteo's wore black.
It had been years since he'd seen all six weather pattern themed guardians gathered around Tim, but then again the two associates by nature of their jobs did not interact much outside official business. For Timoteo to come himself with his most trusted, 'this was serious business indeed' Konoe mused stroking his beard.
At the moment however, the man's attention wasn't on Konoemon or his musings, but rather on his school's nurse/guidance counselor and, for this meeting, personal secretary. Shizuna, bless the young woman, wore her usual pleasant smile, ignoring the rather obvious tension in the room as she handed the Boss of the Criminal Underworld a steaming cup of tea.
"Chamomile tea for you, Mr. Vongole'", she chirped
"Thank you young lady", the elder man accepted with a pleasant grin, rich Italian accent rolling over the words, "your service is much appreciated, as is the great beauty accompanying it."
Shizuna, traitorously in Konoemon's mind, giggled at the small praise. Giggled! He'd showered the woman with far classier compliments than that only to receive blank eyes and an empty smile for his trouble.
"Thank you for your kind words Mr. Vongole'" Shizuna replied demurely
"It is not a kindness young lady", Timoteo said grabbing the woman's hand and pressing a gentle kiss on her knuckles, "but a privilege to be able to give praise to such an angelic creation."
His accent was making the cheesy line sound far more exotic than it honestly should; at least that was the conclusion Konoemon came up with, because that was the only reason Shizuna had to blush and giggle when the Italian bastard kissed her hand.
Konoemon's eye twitched violently as the scene before him overlapped with several others from years past.
An image from 20 years ago, his 18-year-old daughter stuttering and flushed as an older man with "sophisticated" gray edges kissed her hand.
An image from 40 years ago, his wife blushing and tittering as her husband's attractive business associate kissed each cheek in the greeting of European foreigners.
A final image 50 years ago his own mother, far too open and teasing to the flirtations of the young Italian steed on vacation to her beautiful country.
'Konoka must never meet him'
Behind him, he could hear Takamichi's stunned silence.
'Be strong youngin' Konoemon mentally sent to his new "brother in arms", 'Good Japanese stock will win out against these intruding gigolo foreigners' he thought, calmly ignoring the fact that Takamichi himself despite his name was not in fact Japanese.
"As much as I enjoy sharing tea with an old friend Tim, I believe you asked to meet with me for a reason?" Konoemon asked deciding to get this meeting started.
A long moment passed as his "friend" merely observed him over his cup of tea.
"Your time is running out."
Behind him he felt several of his subordinates straighten, no doubt interpreting Timoteo's words as a threat. Konoemon almost rolled his eyes at their protectiveness, but he couldn't afford to take any attention away from the man in from him.
"Oh, in what way?"
"Humanity is reaching a great age of technological advancement; chief among those advancements, the ability to record digital images and send them vast distances in mere seconds. As wonderful as that may be for the average person on the street who needs to stay in contact with someone on the other side of the world, it is something of a hassle for those who would prefer to keep their activities private from the world at large."
"I see, you are referencing the eventual rediscovery of magic by the rest of the world's populace."
Konoemon stroked his beard wondering where his associate was going with this; it was no secret, despite what some traditionalist might believe, magic was never meant to be hidden away forever. With technological advancement being what it was it was only a matter of time.
"You are of course aware that we are not merely sitting on our bums. I assure you Timoteo we mages are as much citizens of this world as everyone, and too share in these advancements in our society. We do have people that monitor such things."
"It won't be enough." Timoteo stated iron sure, "It won't be another century before the whole thing comes crashing down, if that."
As the other man spoke, his amber eyes glowed as he continued like a judge laying out a sentence on the entirety of the Magi World, "There will be chaos; governments who were ignorant of your world will rally against those whose magical counterparts shared knowledge of their existence. Magi's will become monsters to be fought against, weapons to be used, animals to be hunted. Innocents previously protected by Magi's will be left to the mercy of this cruel world. There will be chaos."
Konoemon narrowed his eyes at the finality in his tone. The crime lord was far from a seer, but the man had an unfortunate (or was it fortunate?) tendency to casually make simple (terrifying) almost prophetic statements.
It was apparently a family trait that had been passed through the generations and was even a requirement necessary to become the boss, if he remembered correctly what little of Vongola history he'd been allowed to learn during their younger days. It was this blood trait, more than their intelligence, ruthlessness, and the ever mysterious "Flame Power" that insured Timoteo's family, The Vongola, remained the strongest most influential family in the Underworld without fail for over four hundred years.
As it was the tension in the room had magnified to an 11 at Timoteo's prophecy of doom.
"Do you have proof of these accusations?" Takamichi asked speaking up for the first time during this meeting.
"Yes", Timoteo answered blasé' and Konoemon already knew what he was going to say before he even said it, "My intuition has been screaming these things to me for quite some time now every time I eat Sushi."
Konoemon, the only one on the magical half of the room aware that Tim was being dead serious resisted the urge to strangle the man across from him.
"Intuition" Shakti asked, obviously making an effort to sound polite about it, but everyone in the room could hear the barely held back irritation, and Konoemon was at least thankful it was her who asked the pointed question, anyone else might have said something insulting, which would have been fatal in the presence of Timoteo's Guardians.
"Whenever I eat Sushi, yes." Timoteo answered back with the utmost seriousness, and Konoemon couldn't help noticing the rather fixed expressions on his guardian's faces, though Gamauche looked like he was trying to contain a snicker.
As it was Konoemon found that he could follow the not quite sane logic of the Vongola man rather easily. Timoteo's intuition, or Hyper Intuition as it was called by members of the family, gave the man the ability to make incredibly (scarily) accurate deductions based off ridiculously small amounts of evidence; it was likely Tim had picked up on the signs of the Magic World's apparently disturbingly rapid decline that lay deep beneath the surface. Tim who had a business, a military, and a country to run likely didn't give much thought to the magical world except when he ate Japanese food, because Konoemon as the only one in the magic world that Timoteo semi regularly interacted with was Japanese and they made it a point to eat Sushi during their meetings.
Unfortunately, bereft of such explanation, the magical contingent of the room was far less amused
"Is this a joke to you."
Toko, the swordswoman had apparently lost patience with dealing with "criminal scum". Behind him Timoteo's guardian's twitched at the hostility in her voice; from the corner of his eye Konoemon could see his own subordinates twitch back. Sharp but subtle hand movements from the two men kept the peace, but the tension that swirled around the room had been considerably upped.
It wasn't her fault, for very good reasons there were few in either Magical or Mafia Worlds that knew about each other, and those who did generally despised the other. Magi's looked at Mafioso (perhaps rightfully) as criminals allowed to skirt the law because they had supernatural powers and were mostly ignorant of the responsibility those like the Vongola Famiglia and Arcobaleno had to the world in exchange for such power. Flame Users of the Mafia, looked at magicals as naïve interfering fools at worst and tools to be used at best. Tools they would take shameless advantage of, that is if they didn't have to jump through a thousand and one hoops set up by the keepers of Mafia Law, whom encouraged the separation of powers and absolutely no one wanted to cross.
"I assure you young lady, I'm not in the habit of telling jokes during serious meetings." Timoteo answered back unconcerned by the swordswoman's ire, "I assure you, if Konoemon does not heed my warning for what it is, his granddaughter and her friends, might not make it to as ripe an age as he himself."
Narrowing her eyes, Toko abandoned any attempts at looking civil and dropped her hand to the blade on her hip at the perceived threat.
Across the room Brabanters Schnitten, did not appreciate the hostile action towards his boss, and the sching sound of a blade being released from its sheath filled the room.
"TOKO ENOUGH" and the room froze as Konoemon allowed some power his considerable power to leak, "We are having a conversation like civilized adults, if you cannot control your need for violence because someone said something you didn't like",Konoemon stressed, making his point humiliating clear to the prideful woman "you are free to leave as the rest of continue."
The woman in question winced, firmly chastised, and put away her sword,
"Yes sir, my apologies sir." And Konoemon almost immediately forgave her, the grown woman sounded like a kicked puppy.
On the other side of the room the scarred Rain Guardian kept his blade at the ready, but a deliberate cough from his boss made him sheath it, and the tension of the room went down minutely.
"Well, this is quite the vital information you've brought to my attention Tim" Konoemon continued after a moment of silence, ignoring the slight (but silent) incredulity of those behind him, "But I must ask, why you bring this information to me, and why now?"
"You don't think I would worry for old friends when such visions of death plague my old bones Konoe Konoe?" Timoteo asked using his old nickname with an innocence so seemingly genuine he would have bought it if he didn't know exactly who he was dealing with.
Timoteo Vongole was most assuredly not his friend; he never had been and barring some massive catastrophe that forced their implicit cooperation, never would be. The mafia and magical worlds were kept separate despite both having a hand in what could be considered the supernatural for very good reasons. Sometimes a flame user crossed over into the Magic world, able to disguise their unique power as magic or even Ki, considering the similarities between the two powers. Sometimes, someone from the Magic World without training in more advanced arts could be passed off as someone with Mutated Flames; which was known to happen in those with long bloodlines in the Mafia. Vongola's Hyper Intuition was apparently once such mutation of Sky Flames unique to the Vongola bloodline.
Otherwise the two men interacted with each other based on necessity more than anything; he was a friendly acquaintance at best, an ally in keeping the peace even, but Konoemon never forgot that at the end of day Timoteo Vongole' cared and put forth his own above all others. If standing back and watching as an entire people die out kept his own safe, he would do so without the slightest of hesitation. Timoteo Vongole' was not his friend, but he was a good man.
"I think," Konoemon answered swirling his cup, "That you would be far more likely to hide away and keep your family safe than risk them being mistaken as magic; your kind certainly have more connections with the world governments of today than my own."
Which was true, unlike magic and magi's, Mafiosi were regularly accepted as a known part of the world's balance of power, even if their Flames were not. The founder of the Vongola Famiglia had no hesitance in making alliances with and even absorbing military and religious powers from other nations into his family, even having the audacity to invite foreign royals to serve under him.
Though Konoemon had no exact proof, he was vaguely sure that Italy, Vongola's base of power, had not had a free government for generations; Vongola were not the kind to bow to the influence of someone else if they could help it.
"If you fall, others will fall with you, and war doesn't give a damn about technicalities"
True even so, "So why are you here, Timoteo?"
"You've said it yourself" the man answered amber eyes staring into his soul and thoroughly unnerving Konoemon, though he'd never show it, "We have connections to government powers, connections you will desperately need in the coming days."
"Are… are you suggesting an alliance" no that wasn't right, but it couldn't be, "Are you suggesting we bring the two worlds together!?" he asked wide eyed.
Timoteo gave a curt nod
Konoemon sat back mind racing hundreds of miles a second, the work that would be needed, officials to be called, Businesses'! They would flourish, prejudices would need to be overcome, the risks were terrifying to consider, THE GAINS were too tantalizing to even dare to hope!
"Vindice" Konoemon managed to cough out, because if there was any force on Earth that could stop such a thing it was those apostles of destruction. Vindice, wardens of Vendicare Penitentiary, and The Keepers of Mafia Law.
"Ah" Timoteo smirked looking so insufferably smug at Konoemon obvious flustered state that Konoemon wanted to slap him, "It just so happens, that the leader of the Vindice owes my grandson several favors and the two of them are… well not allies, but on friendly speaking terms."
The smirk on his face grew more as Konoemon gaped, 'SOMEONE WAS ABLE TO TALK TO THOSE MONSTERS!? No even before that, he'd actually knew who the leader was!?'
Immediately Konoemon was assaulted by a memory from almost 50 years ago when he'd first met Timoteo; a man from the mafia side had broken some heinous law and had tried to hide himself in the Magical World, Timoteo had been hunting him down in Magical Japan on behalf of his mother, Vongola Ottavo.
Black Flames appeared from the shadows like something out of a horror flick.
Bloodlust and pure hate flooded the room, as a cold scent of death swirled in the air.
The man, disgusting child murder, eyes wide and terrified
The blond foreigner that gotten on his nerves for the past week stepping in front of him, his own orange flames wrapping around them both protectively.
The man's last desperate leap for his weapon and aimed not at the shadowy figures but at his own head, before chains appeared from thin air wrapping around him dragging him back to three bandaged figures in black overcoats and top hats.
"Carlo Lorenz Eni, you have been judged GUILTY"
Konoemon shivered briefly at the memory before changing the topic, "I wasn't aware one of your boys left behind an heir."
Across from him some of the light dimmed in Timoteo's eyes, and Konoemon cursed himself; Timoteo had once had four sons, Enrico, Federico, Massimo, and the youngest Xanxus. All but Xanxus were dead now, and last he'd heard the boy had had to be locked away because he was too much of a danger to the family and himself.
"Ah, he is my Outside Advisor's son and is a grandson to me in all but blood." Timoteo answered a little bit of life coming back into his eyes at the mention of the young man. And Konoemon thought to his granddaughter's best friend Asuna that Takamichi had dragged into their lives almost a decade ago and sympathized. "Or perhaps even in blood as well, he is born from an old Japanese line of the Vongola."
Konoemon raised his eyebrow, "Is he…?"
Timoteo nodded, " He is to be my heir" which meant he had powerful Sky Flames and V.G.I (Vongola Hyper Intuition). "It's good that we brought him up, I would like to ask you a favor."
And had Konoemon's eyebrows not already been glued to the top of his forehead, they would be now, Timoteo Vongole' did not ask favors, he took what he wanted.
"I would like you to allow him admittance to your University"
Konoemon felt a serious shift in the room, his teachers' naturally interested in the prospect of new students of any kind, but more so than that, a solemnity had entered the Vongola contingent of the room at the mention of the boy.
"I'm always willing to welcome those willing to learn Timoteo, this is a school first and foremost." He answered truthfully, and honestly even without Tim's ludicrous (tantalizing) proposal to merge the two worlds in some kind of long term plan to safe magic and maybe expose it ahead of the natural progression, he would welcome the heir to Vongola anyway if only to help build bridges with a future big player of Underworld and Supernatural politics.
"If I may ask I feel, there may be some more to your request though old friend. If you mentioned his apparent, ah, partnership with your law keepers, then I assume he is to play a bigger part in your merge the worlds plan."
"His name is Tsunayoshi, and he's recently begun taking over duties of an Underboss, before the next three years are up he will take over for me completely"
Konoemon blinked, that was very important information; the leader of the Mafia World was stepping down. Konoe knew how chaotic the transfer of power could be, just look at the mess with his son in law, 15 years later and there were still massive tensions between their two organizations; though in fairness that was more do to Eishun's decision to send his daughter and the unknowing symbol of peace to his school here in Mahora rather than in Kyoto. Still Konoemon couldn't help but question,
'Only three years and you want to send him here to a foreign country?'
"I know, it's a short time frame." Timoteo nodded, responding to Konoe's thoughts as if he'd spoken aloud, much to the man's slight irritation. Tim had made it a game to speak his thoughts out loud the first time they met, making the young man paranoid he could read thoughts.
V.G.I was the best detective in the world, everything was an open book to those who had it. Which come to think of it was probably why this meeting, tense moments included, had proceeded as smoothly as it did considering how insane Timoteo's proposal was.
But Tim's face was not amused at infuriating him like it was during their younger days but worried and sad.
"I have put much on Tsunayoshi's shoulders, perhaps more than my predecessors did on their own heirs, at least for the age he was when he began his training." The man continued morosely, "As it is he has taken it all with little complaint, but I fear if I do not give him time to have the childhood I ruthlessly stole from him he will break."
"So, his attendance?", Konoemon asked, still suspecting there might be more to the story, but was probably more personal.
"Will be a working vacation more than anything." Timoteo answered, "A chance to get away from it all, while doing something good, a task worthy of a prince of his station, creating bonds and alliances for the Famiglia, and helping someone in need. He is quite the seeker of righteous justice, my heir."
Konoemon stoked his beard, already intrigued by this 'Tsunayoshi', a righteous man in the Mafia? He could see why Timoteo would pick him, other than a lack of other heirs.
"Very well" Konoemon nodded, "We will see him on the first of the new semester."
"Perhaps, for the sake of building relations between future leaders, you can find a way to put him with that class of supernatural heirs you plan on having young Mister Springfield teach." Timoteo casually name dropped, "Maybe as a student teacher or tutor between his classes at the university, he's quite adapt at tutoring." He said with an amused glimmer in his eyes.
Behind him he heard Takamichi startle, no doubt his protective instincts for the boy flaring at hearing a Mafia boss was aware of his friend's son's movements. Konoemon more used to his now ally's propensity for dropping bombs without care didn't even blink at the apparent breach of security.
"How did you-"
"Know?" Timoteo cut off the young man behind him with an innocently surprised expression that didn't reach his eyes in the slightest, "I'm sorry was it supposed to be a secret? My apologies, but you really shouldn't leave such information lying around for anyone to find then."
"It wasn't lying around you-"
Konoemon raised a hand cutting off a repeat of Toko and the sword incident from twenty minutes earlier, who looked like she wasn't going to say a word for the rest of the meeting if it killed her.
"Headmaster-", Akashi-kun interrupted this time, and Konoemon was reminded that his daughter was in that class.
"Peace, Timoteo is as man as good as his word, if he vouches for his grandson I'm inclined to believe the young man's intentions. Besides we'll have to get used to his presence none the less. Tell me is any good at English?"
"It is one of several languages he has been made fluent in, business purposes you understand."
Konoemon nodded, good perhaps a university student looking to teach for college credit would do.
"If that's all then?" he asked.
Timoteo nodded and the leftover tension of the room dissipated as he made it clear the meeting was for now over. Rising to his feet using his gaudy cane, which was definitely not just a cane, as a support stick, returning to looking for all the world like a harmless old man once more, he held a hand for Konoemon to shake.
When their hands met, Timoteo's hand clenched and a sudden insufferable heat entered the room as the old man's eyes glowed neon orange and it was no longer hard to see this man as anything other than as the Black King of the Underworld.
"Know this though Konoemon," Tim- no, Vongola Nono warned, "Tsunayoshi is my last heir, if anything fatal happens to him under your watch, regardless if it's your fault or not, we will Hunt. You. DOWN."
With that he let go of his now slightly raw hand, and returned to pleasant old man so fast, you'd think the last few moments were a hallucination if not for the smoke coming off Konoemon's sleeve.
"I'll be seeing you Konoe" he said cheerily as he and his guardians made their way out the door.
Then they were gone, and silence reigned in the room in the wake of old Mafioso's threat. Takamichi pulled up a monitor showing their progress off the campus as Shizuna rushed to inspect his hand.
On the monitor an old man in a brown pin striped suit waltz out to parking lot filled with four or five dozen armed men in black suits who all straightened and bowed when the man came into view. Turning to give one last orange eyed look at the hidden camera, the man entered the limo, and took off.
"Well headmaster" Takamichi said putting a cigarette in his mouth, "You've certainly done it now; a mafia boss is coming to Mahora whether we like it or not now."
Yes, Vongola Decimo is coming to Mahora
AN/: (Important Information)
So, this fic will be almost solely based off the manga adaptions given that I am frustrated by Reborn!'s unnecessary fillers and random changes.
Examples include, making Tsuna's eyes brown instead of orange their listed as, changing their motorcycles into flying bikes that only hover two feet in the air, but most of all the complete tension breaking of Millefiore Arc, where they take breaks from the near apocalyptic future for…reasons…yeaaaah, no.
Harems: I typically hate this genre if only for how terribly unrealistic they are, but it wouldn't be a Negima fic without one, so I'll probably put a few joke pairings in. I'm also experimenting with my ability as a writer to include romance, so don't be surprised if you see some jaded crap.
OC's (Original Character): I'm as weary of them as the next reader, if you don't like one tell me.
Future M/A rating: There will be blood, 'nough said
Plot: I intend for this fic to go for the long haul, so for the first couple chapters don't be surprised if it moves a touch slowly, Tsuna won't even be known to most of 3A until maybe four or five chapters in. And his Guardians won't be joining him till significantly later.
ALSO: This is a fanfic, it's supposed to deviate from the main plot, so please please please no late-night PM's about how "this didn't happen in the book/show". Well no shit Sherlock, if there's one thing I can't forgive it's a boring fic. If I wanted to read the written version of my favorite show, then I'd… well no I wouldn't want to read the script of a 30 min television show. Ugh.
LEAVE COMMENTS: As someone who's not getting paid to write this crap, comments are what keep me going. Updates will come maybe every other week, I'll try to be quicker, but I'm no Dean Koontz… or Coeur Al'Aran, seriously minimum 10,000-word chapters for 3-5 stories each, every single week. Beast, man, Beast.