[KHR!] Future unveiled
Title: Future unveiled
Series: 50scenes Prompt Table No.1 (038-Malevolence), 31_days ‘They will be vastly unlucky in their children’
Author: Kanon
Genre: Romance(kinda)/Humour
Rating: PG
Character: 8059 with 27
Disclaimer: Me owns no mafia, no rings, no money; nothing but the perversity of a fangirl. Summary: Reborn drops a bomb - not literally but close enough.
Timeline: Future Arc, in the Vongola hideout
Spoilers: None
Warning: I suck at humour.
Author’s Note:
...by the time my friend read though this, it was too late for 31_days but here it is now anyway. It was something I wrote in joint for 31_days and 50scenes after all. I’m simple-minded so can’t take the prompt with any deeper meaning than at face value. *hides*
:::::Future unveiled by Kanon:::::
Forced to seat at the table and not lift even a finger, Tsuna wonders if it’s about time for him to give up; no, not his training, he’d never do that (and manage to survive his tutor from hell). The one he’s eyeing in a faint resigned smile is-
“Gokudera, I think that’s sugar, not salt.”
“Shut up, baseball nut. I have organised all of them-” Gokudera blanches when he tastes the white powder, “you fucking asshole, I told you not to touch anything!! You trying to sabotage my cooking?! This is for the Tenth, you git!”
“Hahaha, Gokudera, I think it was you who threw the thing there when you accidentally chucked like, a whole kilogram of it in the soup.”
“Shut up, shut up, shut up!!”
“Ahahaha, Gokudera, the soup’s boiling over.”
Tsuna doesn’t even suggest that Yamamoto helps out, well aware that it will only lead to even more destruction of the abused kitchen (of course, not by the Rain Guardian’s hands; his self-proclaimed right-hand man is the Storm Guardian for a reason after all) which is thick with smoke and smell that Tsuna sorta-ish dreads to be his dinner.
“Gokudera, it’s not a good idea to-”
“Ah, FUCK!”
“-pour oil into a wet pan.”
“Too late, you git!” Gokudera screams, shaking his hand wildly from the stinging of the splattered oil, only to knock over the glass jar that was filled with sugar (or was it salt?). The floor is instantly littered with glistening shards in a mount of white powder and Gokudera falls into silence for a second before breaking out in a storm of apologies that Tsuna had more or less foreseen coming even though he was nowhere near the pandemonium.
“Shit, I’m sorry, Tenth!”
“Huh? No, you don’t have to-”
Regardless of Tsuna’s words, Gokudera dives down to bang his head on the floor silly but is held back just as his knees buckle. There’s a callused hand curled tightly around his arm and when Gokudera turns his head, Yamamoto grins at him in a slightly less senseless way than usual.
“What?!” Gokudera growls and that slightly-less-senseless smile grows wider to the usual-senseless-grin that Gokudera oh so hates.
“Hahaha, Gokudera, there are broken glasses on the floor. You keep an eye on the soup,” Yamamoto says as he moves the glaring Storm Guardian to the cooker and away from the hazardous area, “and don’t come here till I’ve cleaned it up.”
“…Che.” Gokudera mutters, the green eyes following the smiling teen. Yamamoto, unaware of it (or perhaps just not reacting to it), kneels down and busies himself with carefully sorting through the flood of sugar/salt for the shards.
But just as Yamamoto picks up the first shard, Gokudera also crouches down opposite of him, his lips tightly pursed, and when the swordsman blink at him, Gokudera defiantly keeps his gaze fixed on his current task and growls, “If I leave it to an idiot like you, it will never get properly cleaned up. As the right-hand man, I can’t have anything that might endanger the Tenth slip by.”
The happy-go-lucky laughter rings out soon and Yamamoto plucks out the piece near to the half-Italian with care usually reserved for Shigure Kintoki and his baseball bat. “Okay, but be careful not to cut yourself, Gokudera.”
“Shut up. Who’s telling what to whom? I’m not cleaning up your mess even if you lose a finger.”
“Ahahaha, that’s quite a feat!”
“It’s nothing to laugh about!!”
The entire interaction happens in a short span of a few seconds and watching the two bickering (albeit one-sided) so smoothly, Tsuna, no matter how absurd it is, cannot help but think that his two friends are behaving like-
“An old married couple.”
“GYAH!! Reborn!! Don’t turn up out of nowhere!!” Then Tsuna recalls what his tutor said and flails, “And don’t read other people’s mind!!”
Reborn ignores his no-good student and whirls around in his cocoon-like sleeping bag to the two who have paused for a moment in their cleaning at Tsuna’s wailing.
“That reminds me, the future Yamamoto told me something before he was switched.”
Tsuna is just a little worried when Reborn’s small lips curl faintly and certainly sardonically at the corner; actually, change it to extremely worried.
“You two,” Reborn says, pointing the two on the floor, “of the future we're planning to have a child.”
“…EEEHHHH!!!”
“Re-Reborn-san!! What are you talking about?!”
The hitman’s huge eyes look at them stoically as if to ask for the reason behind the spluttered words, because yes, it’s so normal that two male mafiosos were going to have a child. “There’s the advanced Vongola medical facility and this is ten years into the future, after all. Mafia world isn’t the only thing that has evolved.”
That doesn’t explain anything!, Tsuna wants to scream but before he can, Reborn goes on with a dry smirk. “Imagine, those two’s child.”
Reborn pauses and for a moment, there’s a thick silence in the kitchen. Worse thing is that the instinct to follow Reborn’s every word has been so painfully embedded in Tsuna that he’s instantly picturing a kid with olive eyes and silver hair, a baseball in one hand, a dynamite in the other, eyebrows knitted and the lips permanently frozen in a wide grin with a cigarette perched in between; and perhaps screaming one minute then laughing the next. Then his tutor cuts in before his involuntary imagination breaks his brain, “That’s one psychotic kid with some serious personality issue.”
“Go-Gokudera! Oi!” Yamamoto suddenly shouts and Tsuna turns around to see the Storm Guardian hardened into a stone statue and with just a tad too many cracks visible.
“Go-Goku-” Tsuna is about to rush over to his friends when he hears a quiet snicker from his tutor and manages to catch the Arcobaleno before he mysteriously disappears again. “Reborn! Was that really true?!”
The hitman takes his arm out of the cocoon just as Leon turns into a fan, and whacks Tsuna at his head with it before he zooms out of the kitchen, somehow, quite mysteriously, into the ceiling. “Of course it isn’t, stupid apprentice.”
“Reborn!! Damnit, his jokes are… Gokudera-kun, wake up! It wasn’t true! Reborn was just joking!”
“Aw, it wasn’t true?”
“Yamamoto?!!”
“Hahahaha!!”
Series: 50scenes Prompt Table No.1 (038-Malevolence), 31_days ‘They will be vastly unlucky in their children’
Author: Kanon
Genre: Romance(kinda)/Humour
Rating: PG
Character: 8059 with 27
Disclaimer: Me owns no mafia, no rings, no money; nothing but the perversity of a fangirl. Summary: Reborn drops a bomb - not literally but close enough.
Timeline: Future Arc, in the Vongola hideout
Spoilers: None
Warning: I suck at humour.
Author’s Note:
...by the time my friend read though this, it was too late for 31_days but here it is now anyway. It was something I wrote in joint for 31_days and 50scenes after all. I’m simple-minded so can’t take the prompt with any deeper meaning than at face value. *hides*
:::::Future unveiled by Kanon:::::
Forced to seat at the table and not lift even a finger, Tsuna wonders if it’s about time for him to give up; no, not his training, he’d never do that (and manage to survive his tutor from hell). The one he’s eyeing in a faint resigned smile is-
“Gokudera, I think that’s sugar, not salt.”
“Shut up, baseball nut. I have organised all of them-” Gokudera blanches when he tastes the white powder, “you fucking asshole, I told you not to touch anything!! You trying to sabotage my cooking?! This is for the Tenth, you git!”
“Hahaha, Gokudera, I think it was you who threw the thing there when you accidentally chucked like, a whole kilogram of it in the soup.”
“Shut up, shut up, shut up!!”
“Ahahaha, Gokudera, the soup’s boiling over.”
Tsuna doesn’t even suggest that Yamamoto helps out, well aware that it will only lead to even more destruction of the abused kitchen (of course, not by the Rain Guardian’s hands; his self-proclaimed right-hand man is the Storm Guardian for a reason after all) which is thick with smoke and smell that Tsuna sorta-ish dreads to be his dinner.
“Gokudera, it’s not a good idea to-”
“Ah, FUCK!”
“-pour oil into a wet pan.”
“Too late, you git!” Gokudera screams, shaking his hand wildly from the stinging of the splattered oil, only to knock over the glass jar that was filled with sugar (or was it salt?). The floor is instantly littered with glistening shards in a mount of white powder and Gokudera falls into silence for a second before breaking out in a storm of apologies that Tsuna had more or less foreseen coming even though he was nowhere near the pandemonium.
“Shit, I’m sorry, Tenth!”
“Huh? No, you don’t have to-”
Regardless of Tsuna’s words, Gokudera dives down to bang his head on the floor silly but is held back just as his knees buckle. There’s a callused hand curled tightly around his arm and when Gokudera turns his head, Yamamoto grins at him in a slightly less senseless way than usual.
“What?!” Gokudera growls and that slightly-less-senseless smile grows wider to the usual-senseless-grin that Gokudera oh so hates.
“Hahaha, Gokudera, there are broken glasses on the floor. You keep an eye on the soup,” Yamamoto says as he moves the glaring Storm Guardian to the cooker and away from the hazardous area, “and don’t come here till I’ve cleaned it up.”
“…Che.” Gokudera mutters, the green eyes following the smiling teen. Yamamoto, unaware of it (or perhaps just not reacting to it), kneels down and busies himself with carefully sorting through the flood of sugar/salt for the shards.
But just as Yamamoto picks up the first shard, Gokudera also crouches down opposite of him, his lips tightly pursed, and when the swordsman blink at him, Gokudera defiantly keeps his gaze fixed on his current task and growls, “If I leave it to an idiot like you, it will never get properly cleaned up. As the right-hand man, I can’t have anything that might endanger the Tenth slip by.”
The happy-go-lucky laughter rings out soon and Yamamoto plucks out the piece near to the half-Italian with care usually reserved for Shigure Kintoki and his baseball bat. “Okay, but be careful not to cut yourself, Gokudera.”
“Shut up. Who’s telling what to whom? I’m not cleaning up your mess even if you lose a finger.”
“Ahahaha, that’s quite a feat!”
“It’s nothing to laugh about!!”
The entire interaction happens in a short span of a few seconds and watching the two bickering (albeit one-sided) so smoothly, Tsuna, no matter how absurd it is, cannot help but think that his two friends are behaving like-
“An old married couple.”
“GYAH!! Reborn!! Don’t turn up out of nowhere!!” Then Tsuna recalls what his tutor said and flails, “And don’t read other people’s mind!!”
Reborn ignores his no-good student and whirls around in his cocoon-like sleeping bag to the two who have paused for a moment in their cleaning at Tsuna’s wailing.
“That reminds me, the future Yamamoto told me something before he was switched.”
Tsuna is just a little worried when Reborn’s small lips curl faintly and certainly sardonically at the corner; actually, change it to extremely worried.
“You two,” Reborn says, pointing the two on the floor, “of the future we're planning to have a child.”
“…EEEHHHH!!!”
“Re-Reborn-san!! What are you talking about?!”
The hitman’s huge eyes look at them stoically as if to ask for the reason behind the spluttered words, because yes, it’s so normal that two male mafiosos were going to have a child. “There’s the advanced Vongola medical facility and this is ten years into the future, after all. Mafia world isn’t the only thing that has evolved.”
That doesn’t explain anything!, Tsuna wants to scream but before he can, Reborn goes on with a dry smirk. “Imagine, those two’s child.”
Reborn pauses and for a moment, there’s a thick silence in the kitchen. Worse thing is that the instinct to follow Reborn’s every word has been so painfully embedded in Tsuna that he’s instantly picturing a kid with olive eyes and silver hair, a baseball in one hand, a dynamite in the other, eyebrows knitted and the lips permanently frozen in a wide grin with a cigarette perched in between; and perhaps screaming one minute then laughing the next. Then his tutor cuts in before his involuntary imagination breaks his brain, “That’s one psychotic kid with some serious personality issue.”
“Go-Gokudera! Oi!” Yamamoto suddenly shouts and Tsuna turns around to see the Storm Guardian hardened into a stone statue and with just a tad too many cracks visible.
“Go-Goku-” Tsuna is about to rush over to his friends when he hears a quiet snicker from his tutor and manages to catch the Arcobaleno before he mysteriously disappears again. “Reborn! Was that really true?!”
The hitman takes his arm out of the cocoon just as Leon turns into a fan, and whacks Tsuna at his head with it before he zooms out of the kitchen, somehow, quite mysteriously, into the ceiling. “Of course it isn’t, stupid apprentice.”
“Reborn!! Damnit, his jokes are… Gokudera-kun, wake up! It wasn’t true! Reborn was just joking!”
“Aw, it wasn’t true?”
“Yamamoto?!!”
“Hahahaha!!”