Khrfest fic, reporting for duty. Three months late.
Title: The Vongola Prank Wars
Characters/Pairing: Vongola Family
Rating: PG (for some swearing)
Summary: A certain boy decides to get creative.
Warnings?: Failed attempt at humour. Probably will cause much facepalming.
Author Notes: Well, I finally finished it - my long-awaited khrfest fic. I’m not very happy with it, but maybe that’s because I wrote the story over several months. I think that the style of writing changes significantly throughout the story - that probably echoes the way I changed throughout the months. But enough rambling from me. Here, have this sorry excuse of a fic.
This takes place about 5 years after the Inheritance Ceremony.
--
Another tiring day of slogging through the paperwork, and Gokudera was just about ready to fall asleep right there and then, on the paper-covered desk. But he forced himself up, clumsy fingers fumbling for his pack of cigarettes and his lighter, drawing them out of his pocket, before they were abruptly confiscated from him by a pair of hands.
The chain-smoker looked up, ready to scowl at the baseball idiot, but instead found Tsuna there, disapprovingly shaking the pack of cigarettes at him.
“What did I say about smoking a pack a day, Gokudera-kun? This one’s almost empty.”
“But-- Tenth!” The half-formed scowl on Gokudera’s face melted away, replaced by furrowed brows as he reached for the pack, but Tsuna dangled it just above his grasping fingers.
“No more work for you today, Gokudera-kun. It’s late - go to sleep.”
“... If the Tenth insists...” With a sigh, Gokudera stood, pushing his chair back, and handing the stack of finished reports to the other, shorter man. Tsuna accepted them, before tossing the pack of cigarettes and the lighter back to the bomber, who caught them in one hand.
“You know it isn’t good for your health, Gokudera-kun. But I trust that you can take care of yourself.” Tsuna sent a wan smile his way, before turning and disappearing back into his office for what would most likely become another sleepless night. Gokudera returned the smile, though on his face, it was more of a grimace, and tucked the pack and lighter back into his pocket, casting one last glance around the office before leaving, shutting the door quietly behind him.
--
He didn’t remember making it to his room, but apparently he did, with the sun’s bright rays poking rudely into his face the next morning and his mop of bright green hair flopping about all over the-
Wait.
Wait.
Bright green hai--
The resulting howl of anguish could be heard right throughout the entire mansion. One could almost compare it to Squalo’s infamous ‘VOOOOOOOOIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!!!’ And in a room, far, far away from Gokudera, a certain boy laughed and giggled, ticking off the first thing on his list. Now onto the next one.
--
That afternoon saw Gokudera slumped over his paper-covered desk, still depressed about his hair - it was one of the few things his mother had left him with, and so he didn’t take too kindly to whoever had dyed it bright green without him noticing.
I’m going kill whoever did this to me, he thought broodingly, tracing over one of the rings on his fingers absently. A chuckle greeted him and he looked up to find both Tsuna and Yamamoto trying to stifle their laughter at the sight of his hair. An indignant splutter, then Gokudera grabbed the closest thing to him (in this case, a paperweight) and threw it at the idiot’s head. Yamamoto caught it easily, though, and set it back down on the table, still grinning.
“Maa, you didn’t tell me that you’d decided to dye your hair, Gokudera!”
Another splutter. “You think I WANTED my hair like this, sword freak?! I’ll kill you!”
Fortunately, before Gokudera could carry out his threat, Tsuna was between the two, an amused smile still lingering on his face, but at least he’d stopped laughing. “That’s enough, you two. Gokudera-kun, do you know who did it?”
At the interference, Gokudera let out an irritated ‘tch’, but slid the dynamite between his fingers back wherever he hid them, and scowled. “I don’t, but when I find out, I’m gonna...”
“Enough.” At that, Gokudera’s cursing and muttering died down into a murmur, too low for either of the other two to hear. Tsuna smiled and stepped out from between the two.
“Well, it looks as if we have a trickster on our hands.”
--
Over the next few days, the entirety of the Vongola (minus the Varia, Hibari, and Chrome, who was away on a job, and no one - even Kusakabe - had a clue where Hibari was) was subjected to a series of pranks by the mysterious prankster - things ranging from the simple to elaborate - the former consisting of things such as a bucket of ice cold water balanced precautiously on top a doorway, positioned to fall on the unfortunate person that walked in the door next - that turned out to be poor Yamamoto, who ended up with a cold, and disproving the well-known myth that ‘idiots don’t catch colds’.
Gokudera was rather disgruntled when he heard about that, but nonetheless showed up in the other’s room with a bowl of hot chicken soup. One spoonful, and the swordsman knew that it was from a can, but he appreciated the sentiment. Besides, it was rather worth commenting on the taste to see the bomber blush and throw a tantrum over his idiocy, Yamamoto chuckling all the while at his red face.
Even Tsuna wasn’t exempt from the pranks - he’d walked into the kitchen late one night for a glass of milk and ended up face down on the floor, groaning groggily, courtesy of the mysterious trickster having left marbles all over the floor.
The latter category targeted specific people - the morning after Tsuna’s fall in the kitchen saw Ryohei coated in honey and flailing TO THE MAX all over the mansion - it seems that he’d tripped a wire that had caused a bucket of honey to pour down upon him. Then the boxer just had to go and make his situation worse by running outside, and promptly getting attacked by a massive swarm of bees.
It was getting to the point that everyone in the mansion was getting fed up with this trickster. The only person who seemed to be unaffected by the pranks was Lambo, who giggled infuriatingly every single time he saw the results of the pranks and merrily skipped away.
Needless to say, it didn’t take all that long for Gokudera to work out exactly who had started the pranks - it took even less time for him to grin evilly and start retaliating with some of his own. Lambo’s favourite grape candy was discreetly replaced with an ultra-spicy version, and the howl of pain that rang out across the estate was enough to cause the Storm guardian to sigh with happiness and lean back in his chair contently, running a hand through his hair, which by now was back to its usual shade of silver.
Yamamoto caught on soon after - he might not have looked like it, but he still wanted revenge for Lambo putting him in bed for more than a week with that cold, which had been a particularly bad one. He’d started off with small things - things like hiding Lambo’s horns and acting innocent when the Bovino had asked as to their whereabouts, then taking his retaliation a step up by leaving a ‘note’ from I-Pin in his room asking him to meet her at the nearby movie cinema.
It was an easy matter to ask Bianchi to be there instead of I-Pin - the Chinese girl had agreed readily enough to the prank after one of her pigtails was nearly blown off in one of the more devious pranks that Lambo had sprung. Yamamoto watched from a discreet place as Lambo showed up to the cinema, only to be greeted with a face-full of Poison Cooking, courtesy of Bianchi.
Even she had been affected by the pranks - the kitchen had been rendered unusable for about a day after it had been coated with some kind of powder that made whoever venture into the room laugh for about five hours afterwards, until it finally wore off. Of course, she wasn’t very pleased about that, which resulted in Lambo being chased around the town, running as fast as he could, with Bianchi right on his heels. Normally, Yamamoto would have felt bad just watching this happen, but now he thought he understood Gokudera, just a little, when it came to his method of dealing with the clingy boy. It was rather enjoyable.
This didn’t stop the mischievous teenager from continuing, however - rather, his pranks only escalated in intensity, until even Tsuna was tearing out his hair in frustration. By this time, everyone’s hair in the mansion had been dyed a different colour at least once - the Tenth’s hair today was a hot pink, mixed through with swirls of electric blue, both colours clashing horribly with the somber grey lines of his suit, though Lussuria had squealed and fawned over the hair when he’d shown up for a spar with Ryohei earlier that day. Something about the boss ‘… finally embracing his more feminine side…’
He’d just shuddered and tried to bury the memory underneath the piles of paperwork on his desk that threatened overflow onto the floor. This prank war had gone on long enough. It was time to call in the heavy artillery.
--
“Mukuro-san, please help.”
Said man chuckled in that infuriating way, before fixing the younger man with an amused smirk.
“My my, Tsunayoshi. You cannot control even your weakest Guardian? One has to wonder what Vongola Ninth saw in you.”
Tsuna was almost ready to call in Hibari (not that the man would obey - he only showed up when and where he wanted to), but even this was proving to be too much for him.
“I’m begging you…”
"Kufufu… it is fortunate, then, that this is all a dream, hmm?~"
A… dream…?
And the last thing he saw before darkness claimed him was a smug smirk, a flash of metal, before he saw no more.
--
Tsuna woke with a gasp, a hand over his racing heart, breathing rapidly to try and calm himself down. It was all a dream.
It was all a dream.
That blinding headache had better go away soon. And why was it so bright?
“Urgh…”
No bright pink and blue hair? Thank Giotto.
No explosions from outside the door?
Good. No-
Fuck.
“About time you woke up, Idiot Tsuna.”
The Vongola boss let out a groan that sounded suspiciously like “… I hate you, Reborn…” as he sat up, the ten-tonne weight that had fallen right next to his head sliding closer before he pushed it away.
“There’s work to do, and a Mafia Boss can’t afford to laze around in bed.”
Yeah, yeah, whatever… Tsuna couldn’t really be bothered.
“Don’t brush me off like that.”
THWACK. He really should’ve seen that one coming.
“So what is there on the schedule for today…?” Tsuna hopped out of bed and stumbled towards the bathroom, raking a hand through his normal, non-blinding hair, yawning widely.
“You have to check over the paperwork--” Of course, “-another negotiation with the Alberto Family--” What, again? “-And write out the damage bill for the Vongola Mansion.” oh, okay.
… Wait.
WHAT?
“T-The damage bill for the Vongola Mansion…?” Why did he suddenly have this sinking feeling in his stomach?
Reborn fixed Tsuna with a stare that just screamed ‘moron’, but repeated what he has said before, slowly.
“You have to write out the damage bill for the Vongola Mansion. Just in case you haven’t noticed, Idiot Tsuna, we’re currently staying in one of the smaller houses.”
“……………………………………… Shit.”
It was all a dream, my ass, he grumbled internally as he brushed his teeth. Mukuro, you are the most insufferable liar in existence.
“How’d it happen? I don’t remember anything.” Well, that was a big fat lie, but he wanted, for once, to hear it, Reborn-style.
“The idiot cow thought it would be amusing to start a pranking war. Gokudera got angry. The wine cellar went boom. The Vongola Mansion went boom. Simple enough for you?”
“… Yes. Thank you for that, Reborn.”
He swore that the next paycheck that Gokudera and Lambo would be getting would be significantly reduced.
THE END.
Characters/Pairing: Vongola Family
Rating: PG (for some swearing)
Summary: A certain boy decides to get creative.
Warnings?: Failed attempt at humour. Probably will cause much facepalming.
Author Notes: Well, I finally finished it - my long-awaited khrfest fic. I’m not very happy with it, but maybe that’s because I wrote the story over several months. I think that the style of writing changes significantly throughout the story - that probably echoes the way I changed throughout the months. But enough rambling from me. Here, have this sorry excuse of a fic.
This takes place about 5 years after the Inheritance Ceremony.
--
Another tiring day of slogging through the paperwork, and Gokudera was just about ready to fall asleep right there and then, on the paper-covered desk. But he forced himself up, clumsy fingers fumbling for his pack of cigarettes and his lighter, drawing them out of his pocket, before they were abruptly confiscated from him by a pair of hands.
The chain-smoker looked up, ready to scowl at the baseball idiot, but instead found Tsuna there, disapprovingly shaking the pack of cigarettes at him.
“What did I say about smoking a pack a day, Gokudera-kun? This one’s almost empty.”
“But-- Tenth!” The half-formed scowl on Gokudera’s face melted away, replaced by furrowed brows as he reached for the pack, but Tsuna dangled it just above his grasping fingers.
“No more work for you today, Gokudera-kun. It’s late - go to sleep.”
“... If the Tenth insists...” With a sigh, Gokudera stood, pushing his chair back, and handing the stack of finished reports to the other, shorter man. Tsuna accepted them, before tossing the pack of cigarettes and the lighter back to the bomber, who caught them in one hand.
“You know it isn’t good for your health, Gokudera-kun. But I trust that you can take care of yourself.” Tsuna sent a wan smile his way, before turning and disappearing back into his office for what would most likely become another sleepless night. Gokudera returned the smile, though on his face, it was more of a grimace, and tucked the pack and lighter back into his pocket, casting one last glance around the office before leaving, shutting the door quietly behind him.
--
He didn’t remember making it to his room, but apparently he did, with the sun’s bright rays poking rudely into his face the next morning and his mop of bright green hair flopping about all over the-
Wait.
Wait.
Bright green hai--
The resulting howl of anguish could be heard right throughout the entire mansion. One could almost compare it to Squalo’s infamous ‘VOOOOOOOOIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!!!’ And in a room, far, far away from Gokudera, a certain boy laughed and giggled, ticking off the first thing on his list. Now onto the next one.
--
That afternoon saw Gokudera slumped over his paper-covered desk, still depressed about his hair - it was one of the few things his mother had left him with, and so he didn’t take too kindly to whoever had dyed it bright green without him noticing.
I’m going kill whoever did this to me, he thought broodingly, tracing over one of the rings on his fingers absently. A chuckle greeted him and he looked up to find both Tsuna and Yamamoto trying to stifle their laughter at the sight of his hair. An indignant splutter, then Gokudera grabbed the closest thing to him (in this case, a paperweight) and threw it at the idiot’s head. Yamamoto caught it easily, though, and set it back down on the table, still grinning.
“Maa, you didn’t tell me that you’d decided to dye your hair, Gokudera!”
Another splutter. “You think I WANTED my hair like this, sword freak?! I’ll kill you!”
Fortunately, before Gokudera could carry out his threat, Tsuna was between the two, an amused smile still lingering on his face, but at least he’d stopped laughing. “That’s enough, you two. Gokudera-kun, do you know who did it?”
At the interference, Gokudera let out an irritated ‘tch’, but slid the dynamite between his fingers back wherever he hid them, and scowled. “I don’t, but when I find out, I’m gonna...”
“Enough.” At that, Gokudera’s cursing and muttering died down into a murmur, too low for either of the other two to hear. Tsuna smiled and stepped out from between the two.
“Well, it looks as if we have a trickster on our hands.”
--
Over the next few days, the entirety of the Vongola (minus the Varia, Hibari, and Chrome, who was away on a job, and no one - even Kusakabe - had a clue where Hibari was) was subjected to a series of pranks by the mysterious prankster - things ranging from the simple to elaborate - the former consisting of things such as a bucket of ice cold water balanced precautiously on top a doorway, positioned to fall on the unfortunate person that walked in the door next - that turned out to be poor Yamamoto, who ended up with a cold, and disproving the well-known myth that ‘idiots don’t catch colds’.
Gokudera was rather disgruntled when he heard about that, but nonetheless showed up in the other’s room with a bowl of hot chicken soup. One spoonful, and the swordsman knew that it was from a can, but he appreciated the sentiment. Besides, it was rather worth commenting on the taste to see the bomber blush and throw a tantrum over his idiocy, Yamamoto chuckling all the while at his red face.
Even Tsuna wasn’t exempt from the pranks - he’d walked into the kitchen late one night for a glass of milk and ended up face down on the floor, groaning groggily, courtesy of the mysterious trickster having left marbles all over the floor.
The latter category targeted specific people - the morning after Tsuna’s fall in the kitchen saw Ryohei coated in honey and flailing TO THE MAX all over the mansion - it seems that he’d tripped a wire that had caused a bucket of honey to pour down upon him. Then the boxer just had to go and make his situation worse by running outside, and promptly getting attacked by a massive swarm of bees.
It was getting to the point that everyone in the mansion was getting fed up with this trickster. The only person who seemed to be unaffected by the pranks was Lambo, who giggled infuriatingly every single time he saw the results of the pranks and merrily skipped away.
Needless to say, it didn’t take all that long for Gokudera to work out exactly who had started the pranks - it took even less time for him to grin evilly and start retaliating with some of his own. Lambo’s favourite grape candy was discreetly replaced with an ultra-spicy version, and the howl of pain that rang out across the estate was enough to cause the Storm guardian to sigh with happiness and lean back in his chair contently, running a hand through his hair, which by now was back to its usual shade of silver.
Yamamoto caught on soon after - he might not have looked like it, but he still wanted revenge for Lambo putting him in bed for more than a week with that cold, which had been a particularly bad one. He’d started off with small things - things like hiding Lambo’s horns and acting innocent when the Bovino had asked as to their whereabouts, then taking his retaliation a step up by leaving a ‘note’ from I-Pin in his room asking him to meet her at the nearby movie cinema.
It was an easy matter to ask Bianchi to be there instead of I-Pin - the Chinese girl had agreed readily enough to the prank after one of her pigtails was nearly blown off in one of the more devious pranks that Lambo had sprung. Yamamoto watched from a discreet place as Lambo showed up to the cinema, only to be greeted with a face-full of Poison Cooking, courtesy of Bianchi.
Even she had been affected by the pranks - the kitchen had been rendered unusable for about a day after it had been coated with some kind of powder that made whoever venture into the room laugh for about five hours afterwards, until it finally wore off. Of course, she wasn’t very pleased about that, which resulted in Lambo being chased around the town, running as fast as he could, with Bianchi right on his heels. Normally, Yamamoto would have felt bad just watching this happen, but now he thought he understood Gokudera, just a little, when it came to his method of dealing with the clingy boy. It was rather enjoyable.
This didn’t stop the mischievous teenager from continuing, however - rather, his pranks only escalated in intensity, until even Tsuna was tearing out his hair in frustration. By this time, everyone’s hair in the mansion had been dyed a different colour at least once - the Tenth’s hair today was a hot pink, mixed through with swirls of electric blue, both colours clashing horribly with the somber grey lines of his suit, though Lussuria had squealed and fawned over the hair when he’d shown up for a spar with Ryohei earlier that day. Something about the boss ‘… finally embracing his more feminine side…’
He’d just shuddered and tried to bury the memory underneath the piles of paperwork on his desk that threatened overflow onto the floor. This prank war had gone on long enough. It was time to call in the heavy artillery.
--
“Mukuro-san, please help.”
Said man chuckled in that infuriating way, before fixing the younger man with an amused smirk.
“My my, Tsunayoshi. You cannot control even your weakest Guardian? One has to wonder what Vongola Ninth saw in you.”
Tsuna was almost ready to call in Hibari (not that the man would obey - he only showed up when and where he wanted to), but even this was proving to be too much for him.
“I’m begging you…”
"Kufufu… it is fortunate, then, that this is all a dream, hmm?~"
A… dream…?
And the last thing he saw before darkness claimed him was a smug smirk, a flash of metal, before he saw no more.
--
Tsuna woke with a gasp, a hand over his racing heart, breathing rapidly to try and calm himself down. It was all a dream.
It was all a dream.
That blinding headache had better go away soon. And why was it so bright?
“Urgh…”
No bright pink and blue hair? Thank Giotto.
No explosions from outside the door?
Good. No-
Fuck.
“About time you woke up, Idiot Tsuna.”
The Vongola boss let out a groan that sounded suspiciously like “… I hate you, Reborn…” as he sat up, the ten-tonne weight that had fallen right next to his head sliding closer before he pushed it away.
“There’s work to do, and a Mafia Boss can’t afford to laze around in bed.”
Yeah, yeah, whatever… Tsuna couldn’t really be bothered.
“Don’t brush me off like that.”
THWACK. He really should’ve seen that one coming.
“So what is there on the schedule for today…?” Tsuna hopped out of bed and stumbled towards the bathroom, raking a hand through his normal, non-blinding hair, yawning widely.
“You have to check over the paperwork--” Of course, “-another negotiation with the Alberto Family--” What, again? “-And write out the damage bill for the Vongola Mansion.” oh, okay.
… Wait.
WHAT?
“T-The damage bill for the Vongola Mansion…?” Why did he suddenly have this sinking feeling in his stomach?
Reborn fixed Tsuna with a stare that just screamed ‘moron’, but repeated what he has said before, slowly.
“You have to write out the damage bill for the Vongola Mansion. Just in case you haven’t noticed, Idiot Tsuna, we’re currently staying in one of the smaller houses.”
“……………………………………… Shit.”
It was all a dream, my ass, he grumbled internally as he brushed his teeth. Mukuro, you are the most insufferable liar in existence.
“How’d it happen? I don’t remember anything.” Well, that was a big fat lie, but he wanted, for once, to hear it, Reborn-style.
“The idiot cow thought it would be amusing to start a pranking war. Gokudera got angry. The wine cellar went boom. The Vongola Mansion went boom. Simple enough for you?”
“… Yes. Thank you for that, Reborn.”
He swore that the next paycheck that Gokudera and Lambo would be getting would be significantly reduced.
THE END.