Disclaim: I don't own KHR
Beta Reader: Pure Red Crane
I. Basic Information
Name of Filer:
Members of group:
Jack. Meg. Big Joe.
(Later with the Boss and sir Jager as temporary participants)
Date of Incident:
1 day ago.
Kyouya Land, outskirt of Namimori town, Japan.
II. Details of Incident
First of all, I'd let you know that I had the consent of all group members to write this report (mostly because they were in the recovering room, but who cares? Just some minor detail), so here I am, writing an incident report for sir Jager.
Any mistakes regarding the content would be mine, and mine alone (I had to add this ridiculous sentence due to the severe threats to my direct health and a particular body part from Meg. That foul mouthed girl, I hoped your skin rots to hell with all the applied lotion.)
Anyways, let's get start.
As you know, Estraneo Famiglia continued proving to be a pain in our ass, even after their destruction, especially after their destruction. As if we didn't have a full plate with all the craps from other Famiglia lately, they had to throw human experiments into the mix.
The nerve of them was really astounding.
And they wondered why it backfired.
According to the list, there were eight target profiles, two of which have highly dangerous notes.
After the brief confrontation with them in Europe, I could see why. Skillful Illusionists were hard to breed, and they were elusive as well. But they were still no match for us.
After another meeting concerning the arrested order and the latest location of the target, our group headed for Japan. I rarely had a chance to try real Japanese food, so I was looking forward to spending some time there.
It was an old text book mission, with a little walk here and there. All the actions were handed out to the same core: tracking the gang though the traces, walking through crumble, dark corridors posing like a nightmare, restraining the targets blah blah blah. We caught the dog-boy and glasses wearing boy in no time.
With little to no effort, we also crossed paths with the illusionist girl and boy too. It seemed to be a lucky day.
I was half bored out of my mind until the brunet showed up and insisted to be the beacon of justice.
He left no impression on me at first. Even his defying- gravity hair seemed tame compared to the pineapple-styled hair from the illusionist pair. Baby face, skinny look, doe eyes. You know, the type that triggered mother instinct in females and make them fawn over with "Awww" and cookies in hand, ready to give out, as well as being generally useless in combat except for gaining pity.
I had to give him points for being brave though. He clearly knew who we were, and later even with the appearance of sir Jager and Ohmygod the Boss, he still wanted to defend those criminals.
Then it turned out the kid was one of the candidates of Vongola's next Boss.
And he possessed Sky Flame, too. Go figure!
In hindsight, I should have guessed that the Vongola rarely produced black sheep. Their blood was ridiculously strong, just like their famiglia's Sin.
Plus, dark horse liked to disguise as white rabbit these days.
It took sir Jager being set on fire in front of us to make me open my eyes.
It was actually one of the times that everyone was so speechless that no one quite knew what to do. Like, you didn't believe what you saw, so you rejected reality by doing nothing.
Except for our Boss, of course.
It was kind of embarrassing for us, but the Boss was the first one to make a move toward the brunet while we were standing there doing the best poses of gaping fish ever. We scrambled shortly after to join the Boss, but it was crystal clear that there was no room for us to interfere.
Their fighting pace was insane. The brat still managed to block all the hits, and occasionally threw some mean hooks. It involved a lot of blur silhouettes, alarming sounds that made me really wish for another pair of fresh eyes.
At one point, both of them reeled backwards after a particularly strong blow to both sides, looking slightly out of breath with lethal intent. The brunet kept his apathy face, and it mirrored with the expression of the Boss.
I could hardly read anything from the brunet's body language. He raised both of his hands level with his chest, one palm above the other (Note: they were still on fire) before slamming them down to the ground.
Under these gloved hands, wide orange flames started spreading in every direction, quickly creating a sphere of fire like some sort of ritual and trapping both of them inside, along with the hitman – who jumped over the fire wall using his chameleon as a balloon at the last minute before it completed its shape.
We had no shape-shifting pet at our disposal, so we opted to the traditional way, namely constantly hitting and throwing anything at it until it succumbed.
In the middle of it, we suddenly remembered that we could try short warp to get inside. Unfortunately or fortunately (Depending on how you view our damaged egos and the seemingly collective drop of IQ at the time), it didn't work.
No excuse could wash out the shame we all shared at the time. In several minutes, we tried our best to break through the fire wall, exhausting all our recourses and techniques.
It didn't help that we lacked knowledge about Sky Flames. That flame brand has been tricky to understand since the start, what with most of their users Bosses or high profiles. Three of us tried, and tried, andtried. Finally, Big Joe dealed a single hit somewhere that crack the surface of the sphere, resulting in a hole.
And the guy was promptly knocked down by the shockwave afterwards.
Rest in peace, Big Joe. We will remember your great contribution.
Let's see where we are… okay, right after Joe made a hole on the flame birdcage. Okay.
So we made a hole on this flame cage, but I had to tell you, it was not a piece of cake. It was paid for with all of Joe's effort and all of the team work in between. Big Joe, reminded me not to call you "lazy ass prick" again. You were still a prick, but I had to give it to you that you were no lazy ass anymore. Let's change it to "half-lazy ass prick," shall we? For the sake of nostalgia.
Anyway, back to the topic.
So we made a hole on this flame cage, but it was kind of a futile attempt, because said flame cage vanished shortly after.
For all the effort that we put into that mother fucking cage. It. Just. Fucking. Vanished.
(Actually, now that I think about it, it makes perfect senses that the flame cage can't last long. To maintain such high density of Sky flames demanded an insane amount of energy from the user, and while we know that the brunet is some sort of monster now, he can't be that monstrous in the term of flame capacity. Not at his age. Maybe…)
If I had my way, I'd kick the brat until the next week and make him set up the cage again with our hole on it, because what the fuck? It's not cool, dude. Not cool at all.
We didn't have enough time to mourn our hard work, because in that instant our brains had hard time to register the fact that our Boss - our mighty Boss – was injured.
Boss had already discarded the black cloak, revealing his six packed stomach and perfect body – which was covered in blood from the arms and shoulder, with burn marks in some parts.
Both of them had blood in their clothes, on their bodies, and it was too much blood for just one person. The white shirt the brat was wearing turned a deep shade of red. Boss' upper's body was spotted with a bad gash, still spilling red blood. There was blood splashing around them too. Maybe their blood had been sprayed to each other's clothes and onto the floor during the fight to make the scene so bloody?
Woe, too many "blood" words in such a short paragraph. Does that make any sense?
Whatever. What I meant to say was they were both injured. What happened inside that birdcage was clearly intense.
Meg was the first one to snap, of course, being the devoted follower of Boss.
She charged forwards like she was possessed, teeth bared and chain flashing like an angry animal, because she thought she could defeat the one who drew blood from our Boss on her own. Note my sarcasm here, please.
Needless to say the result here.
Two minutes after and I had another patient to tend to. Great.
I really didn't look down upon her, but objectively I know the difference between suicide and whatnot. We should be ready whenever Boss calls for us, not blindly have a death wish. What good were we otherwise? So as the only one still standing there as the witness, along with the infamous hitman and the illusionist girl on the gang, I think we have been slightly outnumbered here.
Medic was never my strong forte, but I think my first-aid work was sufficient.
Thank you, Joe, for not letting me sleep through the session of bondage, regardless of whatever death threat I had thrown at you. I owed you big time.
While I took care of our fallen comrades' wounds, the fight slowly came to an end. At this point, there's little ground to stand on, so naturally, they shifted their battlefield to outside when Boss shoved the brat on the wall. There was a loud groan of protest from the wall as it crumbled down, but the brat remained intact.
And they fell.
It might be a fatal fall for any normal person, what with that being the fourth floor. But at that point, it was pretty obvious that neither of them was normal by any standard (No offense here), so I really shouldn't be surprised that the kid could fly.
Yeah, I kid you not.
Boss could teleport to escape the fall, but the kid - he used his gloves as his leverage to move in the air, flame flaring from his hands like some bad joke of rocket science or something...I don't know, physics is beyond my knowledge.
In my peripheral, I could make out some figures approaching the edge of the battlefield. Three teenagers. None of them was on the list, and all of them looked concerned over the kid, so I think they were his acquaintances at some level.
The hitman, as usual, was hovering around the background, taking in all with his scrutinizing eyes.
I didn't see the illusionist girl, so either she was still kneeling beside the illusionist boy or she was on the run, if she was smart.
Not that I encouraged them to escape or something, but at this point, the mission was so cocked up that I could hardly spare my mind to pay attention to any of them anymore.
The fight would have started round two (Three? Four? It was hard to keep tabs on) if the brunet hadn't suddenly collapsed.
I want to say it was because the kid finally felt intimidated by how powerful and awesome our Boss was and lost his shite, like what happened in most cases in the past, but I will settle down for the absolute truth here: I don't know.
Like I said, the kid literarily dropped on his knees without any good reason. One might think he suffered a stroke or a heart attack with this sudden timing, but the notion was ruined when the kid's whole body began to seize and he coughed blood like there was no tomorrow.
Then just like that, he collapsed.
These teenagers rushed out to him. Definitely his friends, or minions at least. One of them had a really, really nasty glare. They coddled him and took protective stances against the Boss, who stood there with a poker face. Really, kids these days and their blatant disrespect towards superior authority.
Of course, in that exact moment, the hitman ceased to be a bystander and stepped in the space between the Boss and those teenagers, looking very much like a bored cat without ice cream.
They talked for a while, with the content detail completely out of my reach because I didn't have the supernatural hearing eavesdrop ten feet from my current place.
Anyways, judging from the fleeting scowls gracing both of their faces, none of them was really happy talking to each other. I half-expected to see a battle break out between the Boss and the hitman with all the tension in the air, and I just knew it would be epic.
Sadly, it was not the case though. In the end, they seemed to come to a mutual agreement.
The hitman turned around and strolled to the brunet's side, crouching down to seemingly examine him while the Boss stalked back to us. My heart skipped a beat – okay, maybe some - but I did a relatively good job not to lose my composure in front of the Boss, and my eyes definitely didn't linger at the Boss' face and his perfect body longer than necessary because it had been a long time since the Boss had torn off all the bandages. Six pack abs are so sexy and -
Yup. Definitely not staring.
The Boss ordered me to pick up the others and we came back through the portal warp.
End of story.
Whoops. End of report, I mean.
P/S: Since this report will likely be sent to sir Jager only, I want to say that, sir, please include me on the mission when you face that brunet. He should learn a lesson or two to never mess with us like that.
"Remind me again why we still keep him around?" Jager slammed the incident report on the table, his voice low and dangerous.
A moment later, a flare of dark flames appeared from his hands, turning the paper to ashes.
"Because his inspection skill is currently the best despite his high–as–a-kite demeanor?" said Big Joe solemnly, watching some of the ash swirl around in the air and clinging to his robe.
"I don't care. Put him on the next mission involving sewer clearing or something like that. Make it a month. Also, assign somebody to teach him how to write a decent report."
"Yes, sir." Big Joe said, inwardly sighing at how poorly Jack would react at this news. Well, he deserved it though. "Putting that aside, what will we do now with those criminals, sir?"
Jager took a glance at him with a blank expression. "Nothing."
"So we just let them go?" Frowning, Big Joe felt a pang of suppressed anger at the incident.
Humiliation was the best word to describe their feelings on that day. They could only see the Boss injured because of a teenager, unable to do anything but observe.
What had happened on that day was forever etched into their minds.
As absurd as it was, the boy managed to not only fight against the Boss, but also come out alive. The thought of questioning the Boss' invincibility had never once crossed to his mind, but now, he was uncertain. And the notion alone was shaking him to the core.
It was… truly a Bloody Day. And none of those who came back would breathe a word about that incident.
The Sky Flame that surpassed any Flame Holder he had ever seen, and such brute power was possessed by only a mere teenager. He couldn't imagine who the brunet would become when he was fully grown up.
It seemed this generation of the Vongola famiglia would be a found gem to behold.
"A deal is a deal. Even if the outcome is unfavorable, there's no denying that we lost the bet. Or do you dare go against the words of our Boss?"
"I– you know I didn't mean it that way."
Jager nodded, "Good."
No matter how reluctant he was, Mukuro knew a lost battle when it rubbed him in the face. That didn't mean he liked it. Or admit it.
He absolutely despised the fact that he was crouching on the floor while his opponent was looming over him, regarding him with a blank expression. The man stared at him, but not really at him. It was as if the illusionist was no longer viewed as a threat. As if he was discarded aside.
It was actually surprising how a mere word could sound so condescending. Mukuro struggled to maintain his sleek mask at bay, suppressing the flare of rage inside. The novelty of their reserved position – he had leered at the black-haired schoolboy earlier, and now the adult version of said boy was looking down on him - was not lost on the illusionist.
Karma was such a bitch.
Mukuro would never forgive this man – no, this projectile for this shame. He would come back here one day and eviscerate this projectile, or he would get the damn illusionist who had created it and make them suffer the most horrible death ever.
He swore on his name.
"Tell the bomber to give him the Vongola ring." The man said. "They are waiting for him to come back."
Shamal looked at the woman with hearts in his eyes.
"Bianchi." he said, besotted like he always felt when in the company of a beautiful lady.
The angel smiled. In the dim light of the pub, her curves became more attractive and her face more beautiful. She let him kiss her knuckles, which was itself a fair warning, because he knew she rarely allowed anybody inside her personal space, apart from a certain hitman and her brat of a half-brother (even if the latter couldn't stand her beauty without passing out like the fool he was, that boy).
After all, she was not called "Poisonous Scorpion" for nothing.
But he let himself get deluged momentarily, drunk in her soft voice and her perfume. What a sweet scent. Her green eyes were exactly the shade he remembered, and really, how he could kill for some alone time with her. They could be great together.
Like a gentlemen, he bought her a drink, shared some jokes with her, pleased to hear her laugh and tried to ask her for a dance without success.
But the night was still long, and he could still find another company to worm his way into a bed, so Shamal smoothly stood up and bid her a goodbye.
Goodbye, sweetheart. See you soon.
The next day, Shamal woke up in an unfamiliar bed, cold and disoriented, his body shivering with water dripping down his head. A few feet from his place, Reborn sat cross-leg on a chair, greeting him cheerfully with his ever infuriating smirk.
"Chaos, Shamal. We have a job for you."
A/N: Hello there~
So it's September already *Laugh nervously* *cough* I'm so sorry for the late update T.T
So we can see in this chapter that Tsuna (?) finally collapses after using his Sky flame carelessly like that. What happened inside that flame birdcage? Well, only Reborn and Bermuda can answer it, and it's the story for another day :D
For me, I'm really excited because the next chapter will have a cameo of one of my most favorite characters. Cookies for those who can guess who the surprised guest is. I've already given you hint in the extras *wink*
Please give kudos for my beta, The Pure Red Crane, for the new chapter! I'm so sorry that I crashed our deadline before.
But rest assured, dear reader, I will definitely see you in next month!