Round Table Clams

- SuishouTenshi

Disclaimer: Don't own, don't make money, don't bother me.

A/N: It's okay! This is just to get rid of writer's block! I promise it won't take away the time that I'm not using to write the stories I'm supposed to be writing! Did that make sense? Okay, so no.

Anyhoo... since my Naruto story is on the verge of having an actual plot (a.k.a. going epic), I can't call it a series of vignettes anymore. But I still want to write vignettes, so what better way than to use KHR?! I love this manga. So, each chapter will have different pairings, but trust me, they will all be yaoi or at least hinted yaoi between our boys. They will also be different genres, and different ratings. If a mature one pops up, there will be a warning. They will also be SHORT! This first one is only 2000 words.

I promise-- In character, humor, angst, romance, some odd semblance of plot, good character interactions, yaoi.

I don't promise-- Regular updates, regular smex.

So read! And have fun.

Round 1: The Big Boss, 1827

It’s not unusual for me to fantasize about the possibility of Hibari-san taking over my role as the future Vongola Decimo. After all, a true Mafioso boss is one who rises above the laws he enforces; he is the criminal who reigns as judge, jury, and executioner.

As such, there are no consequences for Hibari-san’s violence, which he calls justice but the students silently deem as senseless brutality. Adults fear him, too. I think that’s often the part outsiders can’t accept, that a child owning nothing but strength can live in a world even the law cannot reach. But isn’t that what the mafia is all about?

It makes sense. It makes too much sense for Hibari-san to be a mafia boss. So on a raining day, I suggested it to Reborn.

“Silly Tsuna,” he sipped his coffee, then threw the cup at me... then shot me because my evasion “broke” mom’s china. “Hibari Kyouya doesn’t have the Vongola blood. He is your Cloud Guardian, and you’re the 10th Vongola boss. Just accept it already.”

I knew better than to protest out loud. (Or even think it, because Reborn’s psychic ability comes and goes, and I never know when he’s probing into my brain.)

But looking at him now, proudly patrolling the school yard, I think maybe Hibari-san wouldn’t even want to be Vongola Decimo. I bet he wouldn’t have become my guardian at all if it weren’t for Reborn’s power of persuasion. Sicily, Italy, even the world isn’t within his scope of protection. He loves Namimori and Namimori only.

And if I do become Decimo, and that’s a big if, how would this whole Guardianship thing work? I will have to live in Italy. Reborn’s impossible demand for me to memorize a thousand Italian words a day already says as such. But there’s no way Hibari-san will follow me. There’s no way he will leave Namimori.

I’m just aware enough to withhold a sigh.

Looking away from my little window, I go back to cleaning the classroom. It’s not fair to have Gokudera-kun do all the work, even if he did offer.

Twenty-two on my history midterm! Reborn will dislodge my head for sure. And if I bring up the fact that he made me run laps around Namimori the night before the test and consequently made me oversleep the next morning, he’ll eat my head too. Better not risk it.

Thank goodness the teacher’s kind enough to forget to tell us to have the parent sign next to the score. I’ll just flush this into the toilet. No one will ever know.

Bathroom, bathroom... It was hard enough getting away from Gokudera-kun (full score again!) and Yamamoto (he passed!), but it’s even harder to find an empty bathroom to hide my shame.

The first floor’s bathroom is being cleaned. The second floor is occupied by two chatting teachers. So I run to the third. It’s the seniors’ floor, but everyone should be starting after school club activities.

Yes, safety! Better yet, anonymity. I look at the red mark one last time before dumping all four sheets of paper into the toilet in the first stall.

Yeah... I should have seen the clog coming.

Flush, damn you, flush!

“Hey, I think someone’s got diarrhea in there or something,” a voice says with mirth outside of the stall. Damn my inattention!

“Yeah. Ha,” laughs a second person. “Hey man, ate something bad?”

I try to be brave, but instead a very squeak “I’m fine” traitorously escapes.

“Whoa, is that a mouse or a girl in there?”

“Hey! This is a boy’s bathroom!”

“Stupid, don’t chase her away. Hey, let’s climb over the wall. We’ll just take a little peek, okay, cutie?”

Not that I would ever use them on regular people, but I do wish I didn’t leave my gloves in my desk. There’s some shuffling, and two really (REALLY!) excited faces surface over the top of the stall wall.

My cheeks feel like they’re being barbequed by my own X-Burner. I’d bury my head into the toilet if it wouldn’t just bring about more humiliation.

Their lecherous smirks fade pretty fast... then they return full force, carrying familiar malice.

“Not a girl...”

“...Not a third-year either.”

The malice usually means I’m about to be teased/made-to-run-errands/beaten-up-relentlessly.

One third-year climbs over and jumps down to crowd me into a corner of the tiny stall. “Watcha doin’?” he asks, cracking his knuckles.

“The... the second an... and first floor bathrooms are occupied.” I stutter. I can’t believe I literately have the ability to kill these two and I still stutter.

Yup, big mafia boss man! That’s me!

The one who hasn’t moved sniggers.

Knuckle-Cracker shoves in more, and I begin to shift downwards. “We thought we found a cute girl. But you’re not a girl. So you can say we’re kinda disappointed.”

But still cute though, right? I mean, mom wouldn’t lie about that, would she? And why is he so much bigger? He’s only a year older! Come to think of it, why are Yamamoto and Gokudera-kun both so much bigger?! Out of all of my Guardians, am I only bigger than Lambo? A five-year-old?!

“Er... I’m sorry?” Peaceful resolutions are the way to go.

He punches a fist into a palm.

Stupid peaceful resolutions never work. My gloves! I miss my gloves!

A fist is coming toward my face. I duck instinctively and yell (okay, scream like a girl in the most embarrassing manner imaginable) so loudly it actually stops the guy from punching me.

“Ow, that hurt my ears!”

The fist gets ready to dive once again.

Okay, brains, brains, brains over brawn. What would Gokudera-kun with his freakishly high IQ do in this situation, aside from blowing them up?

“Hibari!” I yell, stilling him instantly. “I’m meeting Hibari-san here!”

His name works better than the best insect repellent.

They share frightened glances. “You’re bluffing,” the one standing in front of me says, but I can tell he’s unsure.

“We saw Hibari by the garden, napping, just a few minutes ago,” his friend says unnecessarily. “You’re lying.”

I stand a little taller. “No, I’m not! He’s... he’s making me clean the bathroom as punishment, and he’s coming to check up on me.”

This really scares them. Then the toilet suddenly gurgles, and a large piece of the exam paper floats up to the surface.

They look accusingly at me. The first punch falls harder than I imagined.

It doesn’t really hurt, not after all the weird battles I’ve fought. I bet Fuuta hits harder. But I can’t fight back this time. And truthfully speaking, the burning cheeks are more painful than bruised arms.

So it’s admittedly stupid of me to cry now when I didn’t shed a tear when I had a dozen broken bones.

Half a minute in, I hear a loud bang. A body collides into me and I’m suddenly being crushed by my bully, who looks dazed with a broken down stall door on his back.

Then we hear his friend squeal, “Hibari-sama!”

“Peeking at a fellow student in the bathroom is in violation of school code 113 dash 2B, you damn herbivores.” For the first time, I sob in gratitude when he says, “I’ll bite you to death.”

The guy crushing me jumps up and dashes for the door. His friend’s screaming for mercy on the other side of the stall but it’s every man for himself by now.

Then Kusakabe-san appears and blocks the entrance. He doesn’t lay a hand on Knuckle-Cracker, but it’s clear no one’s leaving until Hibari-san’s done with them.

Okay, so that includes me too.

I quickly sneak a peek out of the stall to catch Kusakabe-san’s eyes. He might not know what he did for me in the future, but I’ve witnessed his kindness first hand.

He recognizes me! I cheer silently... until he calls out with an odd urgency, “Kyouya-san! Sawada is in the stall.”

Traitor!

The sounds of beating flesh stop. Footsteps flick sharply against bathroom tiles. Knuckle-Cracker is looking up, jaw-slacked and ready to urinate in his pants.

Narrow eyes come into view, and I’m suddenly aware of how I look like, crawling on all fours, tear tracks and possibly red eyes entirely on display.

Burying my head into the toilet is now more than just an idea, it should be patented!

I don’t dare look away from Hibari-san’s expression that expresses nothing at all. But I can see from my peripheral vision Kusakabe-san dragging a body out.

Then one tonfa flies into the nearest wall. He’s looking at me, wearing an outrage unnatural even for Hibari-san.

Knuckle-Cracker finally faints. Hibari-san doesn’t spare him a glance as he delivers a few kicks forceful enough to give the guy internal bleeding.

I can tell from experience he hasn’t shed enough blood yet. And out-cold victims aren’t fun for biting to death.

Instead of the tonfa, it’s words that reach me first.

“I thought I heard you call.”

I nod slowly. Is calling his name forbidden now too? “I... sorry?”

He’s still not making a move to hit me. Instead, he checks the rest of the stall and of course, notices the clogged toilet.

“Did you do that?” he asks in his creepy calm voice.

I nod again. Honesty is the way to go.

He hits the wall again. Stupid useless honesty!

“I’m sorry!”

He’s silent. Eerily so. When’s the beating going to come? This is making me restless.

“Go get a janitor.”

Wait, what?

“Wait, what? You’re not going to bite me to death?”

He crouches down so we’re on eye level and smirks. “Are you asking me to?”

I shake my head robotically. His smirk doesn’t waiver, but he doesn’t move to do anything either. So I stand up carefully.

I don’t try to run though. Because that never ends well. But it just feels wrong to leave without a beating. Not even one little black eye? Really?

Hibari-san seems to understand my hesitation, and he’s definitely enjoying my discomfort. Finally, he lifts his hand with a tonfa still firmly grasped. I close my eyes, actually relieved...

And there is the tiniest tap of steel against my forehead. I bounce back a bit, purely from shock. When I open my eyes again, his face is unreadable.

“Go get a janitor. Don’t make me repeat myself. And if you don’t have club activities, don’t loiter inside school grounds.”

Same old Hibari-san. I nod, grateful for getting the all clear. As I leave though, I can’t help but touch the spot where his tonfa tapped me, a cold little patch on my heated skin. I look back for a second and see him checking out the damage, and I find myself smiling.

It feels like Hibari-san just made a new law.

All hail President Hibari.

- End Round 1