Act I: Confessions Of A Sinner
Word Count: 8470
Xanxus stifled down a shiver as a gale blasted through the streets, refusing to show the people side-eyeing him any sort of weakness. It was early morning and dew was still clinging to mounted plants and weeds as the small street rat dodged bustling men and women, merchants and trade folk calling out deals and prices, trying to coerce and hagle people into their merchandise.
Xanxus huffed as he glanced around, trying to pick out a sufficiently distracted store owner or an unattended stall in attempts to get his meal for the day, his mother at home still sick with a cold and unable to bring in any of their own customers. Coughing up mucus wasn’t much of a turn-on to most people, surprisingly enough.
His careful pottering was paused when he heard the slight jangle of a door, his wine-eyed gaze following the sound to fall under a white on green sign, a frail looking woman seemingly having trouble with the door.
She gave it another shove before sighing loudly, her hands coming to her hips before she looked over her shoulder and called out into the bakery.
“Can you help me with the door?!”
The cold little boy blinked in confusion, not at all understanding the garble of noises the woman had blasted into empty space. He moved out of the way as a cart came rolling by, huge loads of barrels of savoury scented substance blocking his view of the little bakery store.
“What’s wrong with the door?”
“I can’t get it open.”
His brows furrowed in confusion and a bit of startle as he heard metal screech against metal before loud ring of their bell, the thwack of the door hitting the jam and vibrating from the impact. Eyes glanced to the sound, before they brushed it off, quick to go back to their bargaining. Xanxus wasn’t as easy to distract, however, his red wine orbs magnetised to the door, interest of the strange dialect and mysterious strength overpowering the gnaw of hunger at his stomach.
When the trailer passed, taking with it probably his likeliest chance of any kind of breakfast, Xanxus tried to find the source of the young yet based voice, a disappointed frown coming to his face when he saw no such being, the young woman waving with a thanking coo into the bakery. He grunted with a risen grump, miffed that he hadn’t been able to spot the new interest, before glancing to the sign, making a mental note to visit again. The owner looked weak and slow, she wouldn’t be able to chase him on a good day should he be caught.
Xanxus was right, she couldn’t chase him. Her son, however, could.
The street rat panted as he raced around a corner, gravel loose under his bare feet and irritating his soles, breath hitching painfully when he caught a flash of tan and blue hot on his tail.
It had taken the small boy a week of careful observation and thought to make his stealing, learning the layout of the store from a distance and watching the hours turnovers. So, it had only taken so long before he had bared witness to the baker’s son.
The baker’s boy, he had learnt was Daiki Yamaguchi and only a year older than himself. This had both surprised him and not, the older boy being a good few sizes bigger than himself, filling out in muscle better as well, but the shock had been quickly cured by the reminder of their situations, one being a street rat, the other being a middle class. Daiki Yamaguchi as unnaturally perceptive, being strangely aware of his surroundings at almost all times. This had led to Xanxus diving behind walls and blending into crowds many a time as the boy turned to look to him with suspicion in his eyes, paranoia prickling along his nape.
As a result, a lengthy week had been put into this, his pride outweighing his common sense as the small slum resident saw the Yamaguchi Bakery as more and more of a beckoning challenge. The son daring him to try his damndest to steal from them, even if he was unaware of his own actions.
And now, here Xanxus was, baguette clutched in his hands as he dove into the alleys he knew so well, his challenger powering after him with an almighty glare that sent shivers of excitement scrambling along his spine as he lept over a box. His feet carried him through winding alley ways, hard packed earth abusing his calloused soles before he pressed himself against a wall, training his breath to a light airiness, straining his ears for his follower.
After a few seconds, there was nothing. He waited for a few more, and was rewarded with more silence.
His adrenalised grin slowly began to waver, the grip he had on the bread stick weakening as he began to calm down, disappointment seeping into his mind. He had been hoping for something better from the baker’s boy. More of a challenge. More of a thrill. A weary sigh escaped him as he pushed off the wall, tucking the bread under his arm as he shoved his numbed hands into his pockets.
“He’s just as dumb as the r-”
“I beg your pardon, who’s dumb?”
Xanxus gaped up at the looming boy, his eyes wide in alarm as his ass hit the floor. Daiki was way too close way too fast, his knees bent slightly to absorb the impact of the fall, his form eclipsing the morning sun and shadowing his face harshly, making his features sharper and the hard narrow of his eyes more menacing.
Daiki Yamaguchi would grow up into someone who would steal eyes and hearts just as easily as Xanxus stole those shiny red apples from under the noses of careless stall owners, lustrous little things resting in the palms of their hands, meant to be handled with care. The street rat kept the quiver of his lip under control as he faced off the glare of the older boy, seeing a closed off hostility under the amber-earth watching him.
The Wrathful little Sky held the desire to bare his teeth instinctively at the threat, knowing the uncanny sharpness of his canines would at least startle his peer, but refused to lower himself before the other any more than he already had fallen, dust clinging to the seat of his pants. Xanxus narrowed his fiery red eyes up at Daiki, acutely aware of every move he made, the slight impression of his pulse in his tanned neck as clear as day to the prone thief.
“That bread, you stole it. Return it and I won’t call any law enforcement.” The baker's son spoke clearly, no waver in his voice.
The street rat Sky clutched the item tighter for a moment. He didn’t know why, but he felt that he was in more danger trying to fight this boy than he would ever be attempting to do the same to any of the men out on the street with him, and he couldn’t help but wonder if he had made a mistake obeying to daring call of the bakery.
“No, finder’s keeper.” Xanxus snipped back despite his thoughts, brash nature winning out and his bruised ego needing soothing.
“You did not find it, you stole it.” The taller boy huffed before reaching out, his target obvious. “Now give it ba-”
The Sky growled loudly and kicked his leg out, catching the blue haired Sun in his gut and making him stumble back. Xanxus wasted no time in getting to his feet and taking off, feeling his skin prickle in warning, as if he had just set off a fire. His breath came fast as he dove around corners, blood pumping faster as he heard heavy footsteps on the roofs above his head, a shadow slashing the sunshine to follow his twists and turns.
Xanxus gasped as a heavy weight crashed down on him, his head cracking on the concrete as feet slammed down just scarce of his hands.
“C’mere you little-”
The boy cut himself off from whatever curse he was going to spill to grab the fallen Sky and push him onto his back. Xanxus glared up at him as he sat on the other’s stomach, heels digging into the wrathful boy’s hands as Daiki held the stolen merchandise, looking it over for damage.
“Get off me!”
“Be quiet.” He huffed, not bothering to look at his captive.
The little slum dweller tried to thrash himself out of the hold, but his frail, little body couldn’t push the larger boy off, anger and humiliation boiling under his skin.
“You fuckin’ asshole! I’ll tear your eyes out and sell your blinded-”
The Sun hummed as he shoved a chunk of bread into the smaller mouth, wide, red eyes taking in his blankened face.
“Actually, humans are worth more, monetarily, in parts. You’d get a higher price if you sold my organs.” He commented, picking another mouthful off and shoving it in Xanxus’ mouth when he attempted to shout again.
“You’ve spoilt this, it can’t be sold now. So eat.”
“Get the fuck off me!” The Sky spat, twisting his hips and bucking, trying to throw the other off.
His struggles were halted sharply as a hand clamped down on his throat, wine eyes flashing with panicked anger as they locked with calmly seething amber-earth.
“You stole and ruined our merchandise, you should be grateful that I’m being lenient. If I were in any worse of a mood, I would have already kicked your head in.”
The blasé, collected way Daiki spoke sent an unintended thrill through his blood, his breath hitching and catching under the Sun’s hand. In the time he had been watching the Yamaguchi Bakery all he had ever seen was a boy of polished smiles and polite inclines. The careful, choreographed movements of his hands and body used to hypnotize and coerce the people around him into pleasantly disregarding him, hiding away the threat that was being displayed now. The raw power that as packed into the limbs that controlled Xanxus’ movements.
In that moment, he wondered, just how far he could push Daiki. How much pressure it would take to crush that ease and leave him spitting poison and breathing fury. What would he look like? What would he sound like? How would he move?
The thoughts and ideas swirled in his mind, creations of fantastical imaginations crafting the peaceful boy as a demon or a justly cruel being plaguing him as he grasped the arm holding him.
For the first time in a while, Xanxus smiled, feeling the hand around his throat tighten.
Xanxus loved to make Daiki angry.
The wrathful little boy loved the herculene pressure that would weigh down on his lungs whenever the carefully sculpted exterior of that picturesque boy would crack and snap, an unseen inferno smouldering under his skin and singeing the Sky wonderfully whenever his calloused, tanned hand would wrap around his throat in a warning.
Xanxus had a twisted adoration for the twitch and tense of the corded muscle that followed the larger’s movements, the jump of his jaw and the sharpened narrow of his eyes, amber-earth melting into liquid gold that looked down on him, preparing to pour everflowing riches and rage into Xanxus’ awaiting hands. He found satiation in watching that crafted smile bow into a cold, cynical curl, or become teeth and venom.
What made the fire even sweeter was its rarity, a honeyed jewel that only Xanxus was able to taste and admire, growing fonder with every day he had to wait and chip away at renewed defences, the walls becoming sturdier and more complex with every explosion of beautiful wrath.
Daiki was learning to be patient with him, learning to block out behaviours and blind both eyes to his baiting. He didn’t fall for petty stealing now, able to catch the Sky and force him to place it back. Breaking things around their land didn’t work either, the Yamaguchi boy uncannily capable at repairing miscellaneous damages. There were few things that Xanxus could do that would tick the boy’s temper, but he wasn’t quite ready to play the trump card he had up his sleeve. No, he wouldn’t use Kaede Yamaguchi yet, not for a long time.
Yes, the things he usually did had lost their sting and bite, but there were things, actions, behaviours that hadn’t been able to shake once he had started. Even a year later after he had been pinned, fed and choked in the back alleys of Sicily, and months after he had made his first attempts, Xanxus found himself scaling the wall of the Yamaguchi Bakery and precariously picking the lock of the son’s window, the chill of the winter seeping in as he cracked it open and slunk inside, the dark night hiding him from prying eyes.
The wrathful boy closed the window after him and toed off his shoes, the pair given to him by the blue haired Yamaguchi after finding him the second time padding around in the melted snow sludge. His tattered jacket came off next, and his mostly useless pants followed, leaving him in his underwear and a long sleeve shirt nicked from Daiki’s wardrobe. Xanxus shivered, and padded over to the bed, taking a moment to peer at the sleeping boy within.
Over the time he had spent with the older boy, he had come to realise just how good looking he was going to become, and how the foreshadowing was showing on his face already. Xanxus often found himself staring at his strange Daiki, remembering the way his expression twisted with reactions. He was outlandish in ways that baffled and amused the Sky, his desire to poke and prod him growing with every revelation.
The Yamaguchi boy was sleeping quite peacefully now, and that made Xanxus smirk. He reached out and yanked the blankets free from the other's hold, instantly waking him with a gust of cold air and harsh movement. The Sky knew how he reacted to abrupt wake ups, especially if the sky was still pitch and he had not needed to start the day. The first time Xanxus had woken him up, the wrathful little boy had earned himself a bloody nose and a split lip, his head bashed against the far wall.
“Hello Daiki.” Xanxus smirked, seeing tired irritation bloom from within the spectrum of precious elements.
The Yamaguchi Sun narrowed his eyes, slowly deciphering the shadowed face, before groaning at the standing boy and rolling over, smothering his face into the eggshell sheets.
“Don’t ignore me.” He huffed, seeing the hand clutching his pillow twitch.
“What do you want?” Daiki grunted, voice rough from sleep and aggravation.
Xanxus’ lip twitched minutely, amber-earth peeking lazily at him from within the pillow’s lumps, liking their languid, bleary focus.
“Hm.” Was his gruff response, before he pushed the other slightly and climbed into the body warmed bed.
At first, Xanxus had done this solely to irk the older, but after the many attempts, he had found himself unsatisfied with his hard bed, the cold of worn sheets, the sounds of his mother's customers corrupting his dreams and filling them with red, blue and gold encrusted amber. He now haunted the Sun's bed for the warmth, soft and quiet beats and breaths.
“Did I say that you could get in bed with me?” Daiki grumbled, shuffling away as winter chilled hands reached to steal his body heat
“You make it sound like you have an option.”
The baker's son groaned long and loud before rolling again, Xanxus’ arm latching around his waist and dragging him back to the centre, taking up his prefered position of being nicely tucked under Daiki's chin, the Sun's arm dragged over to drape on his hip. The Sky listened with amusement as his bed partner vocalised dislike for the rough situating, but allowed for Morpheus to win out and drifted easily.
Xanxus smirked at the little victory, burrowing closer as if to prove a point before grasping the back of the older’s nightshirt in a vice grip, not allowing for any late night retreats as he had experienced before. He let out a long, relaxing breath.
“You like to kick up a fuss, but in the end you let me in.” He huffed.
“Shut up, Xanxus.”
The street rat Sky paused at that, before tightening his grip on the other boy.
Daiki almost never called Xanxus by name, he seemed almost scared of the name at times. At the same time, he seemed to have a deep rooted respect for it.
The Sky wished Daiki had been facing him when they had formally exchanged names, a week after their first run in. The baker's son had been writing in rune-like characters, his back to the seated boy across the counter that afternoon when he had asked, finally relenting to the fact that he would not be getting rid of the street rat anytime soon.
“Who’re you anyway?” He had asked, scratching the signs into the page.
Wine eyes had not missed the sudden tension, his scrawling frozen in place as an inkwell began to form. He raised his oddly shaped eyebrow in interest at the reaction, seeing the forced calm that came after a too deep breath.
“Xanxus, huh?” Daiki had breathed, putting his pen away and closing the book. “That's a powerful name.”
The Sky watched as he turned, leaning back on the counter with an easy smile, his voice ringing of a startling sincerity.
“It suits you well.”
Xanxus. He called it a powerful name.
The Sky felt a boil over of pride, and hid it away by smothering his face into the crook of Daiki's neck, listening to the annoyed grumble.
The Yamaguchi Sun looked over his shoulder as Xanxus walked up to him, their alley way humid with the summer. Daiki raised an eyebrow at the barely concealed expression of excitement that bubbled under the default bitch face.
“Hm?” He hummed, turning to the bastard.
“Look at what I can do.” The street rat huffed, holding his hand out.
Daiki stood expectantly, looking at the rough palm with a blank face. A minute passed, then two.
“Am I meant to be seeing something?”
Xanxus scowled and shook his hand, glaring daggers at the empty palm.
“It worked this morning.” He tried, splaying his fingers off to the side furiously.
The Sun just looked at the wrathful child as he waved his hand around, yelling abuse at the appendage.
“Ah, if it doesn’t want to then-” Daiki started, only to be cut off as the Sky’s temper piqued, teeth coming to bare and grit.
A furious orb of heat roared to life in the child’s hand, orange tinted fire screaming up his fingers and flaring about, ready to strike any who would oppose. Xanxus grinned, pride coming as he succeeded, before looking to Daiki and pausing.
Amber-earth were frozen in a moment of awe mixed with startle, and underneath it all, recognition. Daiki knew what this was?
“That’s cool Xanxus...What the hell is it?”
“I can make fire! I’m like those guys from your shows!”
Daiki blinked, “The magical girls?”
“No!” The Sky snapped, feeling a flush hit his ears. “Those saiyans and shit!”
Xanxus balled his fists as he stood in the gale blown alley, scraps of broken boxes and carvings on the wall still laying a testament to the meetings of the two boys over the years. His eyes narrowed as he walked closer to the frost flecked stone, hand coming to wipe away a sheen of dust and dew to reveal a deep engraving of two sets. Daiki had taken a pocket knife from within the bakery one day, and had struck the wall with it, whittling away the solidified clay and matter until two lines of characters, oriental and latin in nature, were tattooed into the surface.
Xanxus e Daiki
It surprised him that this hadn't faded as much as it should, perhaps it was due to his ritualistic attention, multiple sticks and the state of his nails sacrificed to his efforts to keep the original work strong. Daiki had noticed his hands not too long after the habit had started, and had spent the remainder of that day doing strange motions on them, Xanxus hadn’t realised his nails could be that clean.
“Did you know, your nails and hair are made of the same material?”
“That’s impossible. One is soft, the other is hard.”
“Nonetheless, they are both comprised of a protein called keratin.”
Xanxus twitched at the memory, the rough pads of his fingers grazing over the impressions of the other’s name alongside his thoughtfully. He had been told of the boy’s origins, a country called Japan on the other side of the world, having provoked his mother to move after he deemed his father was unsuitable. The woman, Kaede, had chosen the location, having wanted to venture further than her roots since she was a child, and had always seen Italy as a city of romance and dreams. Daiki himself seemed careful about the country, perhaps aware of its underground workings, or tepid about such a shift in surroundings, but the street rat was a shade grateful to the easily blindsided matron, having brought her son across the world to fall under his sky.
“I thought I’d find you.”
Xanxus didn’t bother looking up as warmth grazed his side, Daiki bumping their elbows in greeting and he joined the viewing party.
“Why’re you out here?” The Sun asked, brushing off some imperfection clinging to Xanxus’ kanji, lining the characters with tanned tips.
The Sky hummed under his breath as he watched the smooth motion of the other’s hands, calloused with work. They had grown since they had met, two more years of knowledge under their belt, and two years of each other stained into their memory. Daiki had grown bigger, more muscle on him than ever, Xanxus still scrambling to catch up with a scrawnier body. The Sun no longer bothered to deny the Sky when he was forced to make room in his slowly shrinking bed, their bodies pressed close lest one fall. The idea of bathing together had been odd and invasive at first, but Xanxus eventually grew used to seeing a girl’s body with a boy’s voice.
It was hard to imagine what these years would have been had he not stolen from the Yamaguchi Bakery, had he not fallen to the challenge of the baker’s son. If Daiki had not thought to jump the roofs, if Daiki had been just a second slower, if- God forbid- he had been born at a different time, none of this would have happened.
“Oi, what’s with that face?” The Sun asked, reaching out and grabbing a piece of Xanxus’ mane.
Wine eyes turned on his companion, watching expertly concealed concern pass by when precious gems of bloody ruby and ambered gold met.
That was another thing that had happened: it had become impossible to veil their intentions. Alteriors were easily unmasked between them, conniving plans and backstabbing pranks caught seconds before they were executed, flatline lips seen as cheshire grins. Daiki, especially, seemed very intune with the Sky’s behaviours and intentions, something the boy found both unfair and useful. Sure, having someone who knew what you wanted before you told them was great, but having someone who knew what you wanted, was aggravating.
“Xanxus, what’s going on up there?” Daiki asked again, tugging the lock of hair to pull the Sky’s ear closer.
Xanxus’ skin rippled as the breath washed over his neck, nails digging into the wall to stop any further reaction. He could feel the eyes burning the side of his face, their narrow sparking the twisted delight he had come to associate with Daiki’s name and existence.
“I’m leaving.” He said finally.
“Elaborate, please.” That wasn’t a request, despite how polite it sounded.
“My mother found my father. I am going to be given to him for the remainder of my dependant years, he will be able to provide for me better.”
He felt Daiki pause, face as blank as the day he had met him, but with an underlayer of concern hiding from normal view.
“You said ‘provide for’, is he someone of significant status?” He asked.
“Mother says he is, but I am unsure of what that measures up as.”
“Your mother has entertained a variety of men, I believe we can trust in her evaluation.”
Xanxus wanted to bristle at that, but the slight frown that came after distracted him.
“When are you leaving?”
“In an hour.”
“You are going to meet your prospective father in an hour,” Daiki breathed, looking him up and down. “Wearing that?”
This time, Xanxus did bristle, baring his teeth warningly as his cheeks flushed a little in embarrassment. His clothes were less than stellar, he couldn’t deny. They were probably his best set, but that would amount to nothing in the eyes of higher society.
“Come on.” The Sun huffed, grabbing his collar and tugging the begrudged wrath along.
Kaede waved at the two of them as he was dragged through the house, Xanxus fighting to hide the roll of his eyes and scowl on his lips. He was towed up the steep flight of stairs before roughly stripped and shoved into the shower stall, a pelting of luke-warm water coming down on him.
“First impressions are important. You will present yourself in the best condition.” Daiki stated, rolling up his sleeves before attacking the smaller boy with a sponge and perfumed soap.
As per usual of their shared bath times, Xanxus kicked up a fuss, trying to escape the sweet smelling washes and calloused hands of his companion. And as per usual, Daiki managed to wrap his hand around his throat and pin him to the tiled wall until the boy was clean of any build up. The Sun stepped back, his clothes drenched from the shower, but crossed his arms and huffed in victory as wine eyes glared daggers at him through a dripping fringe, usually spiky and wild hair plastered to his scalp.
“Stop that, you look like a wet kitten.” The older grunted, before tossing a towel at the soon to depart boy.
“Shut up, asshole.”
“A hissing wet kitten.” He continued, looking over his shoulder as he dried himself off as well. “Now c’mon, let’s see if I still have it.”
Xanxus raised an eyebrow but padded after the other, muttering profanities unsuited for the tender age of nine. He sat on the bed and crossed his arms, refusing to pout as he watched the blue haired boy sort through his wardrobe, digging all the way into the back as he cursed to himself.
“Mother fu...getting in the way all the time...son of a bitch thinks he can...How long until fuckin- Here!”
The baker’s son withdrew from his black hole of a closet and pulled out with him a pile of neatly folded clothes, dark in colour with flashes of white. He beat any dust from it quickly before unravelling it onto his bed beside the Sky.
“A...A kids suit.”
“Well, technically it’s just formal wear. A suit is a bit different.” Daiki corrected, before snatching the towel away and pegging some spare undergarments at him. “Now, suit up.”
“You just said it wasn’t a suit.”
“It’s a phrase. Shut up and get in the clothes.”
It took struggling, cursing and some pinching before the wrathful boy was wrestled into the formals, his face showing obvious displeasure as he glowered at the smirking Sun. It didn’t stay long however, as he watched a sharp flash of panic disappear into a void behind Daiki’s eyes.
“You look good.” He choked, before walking over to the little side table and produced a comb, running it through stubborn hair.
Xanxus frowned, not liking the unease he felt buzzing in the air, but remained quiet as he was fussed over. He gave an almighty sigh of relief as they flopped down on Daiki’s bed, legs tired from being told to hold poses. The Sky rumbled before rolling over and purposefully lying atop the languid baker.
“You’ve got fifteen minutes before you have to go home.”
“Mm, so?” He grunted.
“I wonder if you’ll still be able to come to our little downtown area...I highly doubt it.”
“I’ll come if I want to. They can’t keep where I don’t want to be.” Xanxus grunted, narrowing his eyes in challenge.
“But will you want to?” Daiki asked.
Amber-earth moved down to look at molten ruby with a startling openness, Xanxus’ hand closing to squeeze the solid grey shirt that clad a bound chest. They stared at each other in silence for a moment, breathing in synchrony.
“Hey Daiki,” Xanxus stared, leaning closer. “Kiss me.”
Daiki blinked. Then he punched Xanxus right in the nose.
“No fucking way, Xanxus.”
Xanxus sat on his bed quietly, a sea of sheets spread out on the massive structure and smelling fresh as all hell. His room was the most lavish thing he had ever seen, strong and rich colours of red and brown painting its atmosphere.
He had spent the day settling himself into the space, his father accepting him after he had presented his fire. Eyes reflecting his dark orange fire tinted with blood red, glinting with recognition.
Recognition of his Flame, that is. His feature don’t resemble mother that much, and save for the spiky hair, he doesn’t see much in Vongola Ninth as well. He was just as much his blood as that one asshole bluejay on that one lone chimney.
He hates bluejays. Asshole birds that are only good for decoration.
Good thing that he made an earing out of it, the blue feathers occasionally brushing against his neck. The reminding sensation still gives him a curl of satisfaction.
In any case, he throws himself back onto the bed, ignoring the ceiling. It is a dream bed, silky smooth, cool fabric quickly warming up from his body heat. It’s like lying on air or clouds of quiet happiness. He sinks into it like it is Morpheus’ embrace itself.
Except, he’s not sleepy at all.
Because, fuck it, he hates this shit. It’s artificial happiness, man-made bliss that is withheld from him, and reserved for those that are born into wealth without knowing if they are even strong enough to survive.
Good thing he knows, from his very bones to the rush of his blood, that he is strong. Plenty of power that is his to be entitled to all this shit.
His fingers curl into claws as he grips the fabrics underneath him, a lazy, smug smirk on his lips. Conviction humming in the back of his mind.
Plenty of power to be able to rip everything that is rightfully reserved to the strong, leaving the undeserving weak in shambles.
Weighed down by an unruly amount of textbooks, hungry, sleepy, and seventeen years old, Daiki Yamaguchi grumbled to himself as he trudged home from school. The weather was nice enough, if you liked gale force winds and near-brutal rain. He huffed as he pulled the door closed behind him, the slab struggling to fly with the wind, only relenting as it’s lock was forcibly stuck in place.
“Daiki-kun, Daiki-kun! You have guests!” Kaede called, stepping out of behind the counter with a laugh.
“Oh, go see for yourself!”
Daiki thinned his lips and put down his dripping jacket by the umbrella rack, his own black one dry as a bone, having been forgotten in the morning rush. The teen tussled his hair, trying to get as much of the moisture out of it as possible before he walked into meet these ‘guests’.
The Yamaguchi’s never had guests- at least, not welcome ones. That last ones who came had gifted him his title and an extra surname to write down in official documents.
His mother tossed a towel on his head as he walked past, the sudden enshroudment startling him for a moment, before he gave a muffled thanks and scrubbed the rainwater out as best he could. Stepping through the door to the living space, Daiki hummed and quickly unpacked his books, relieved to find the plastic bag he had wrapped around them had preserved the pages from the downfall, His pencil case, on the other hand, would require some maintenance.
Placing his hands on his hips, the young man looked about the space, peering around doorways to try and find these elusive guests. He hummed when no such luck came, standing by the stairs before ascending. A loud crash followed by the ceiling shaking made him freeze and stare at the shaking boardwork.
Muffled shouts came through the divider and made his eyes widen, teeth set into a grit as he skipped steps to get to the landing, and wrenching open his door.
His room was in a certain disarray, drawers open and overflowing, stationery, books, worksheets and clothes dragged out onto the floor in piles. Sitting cross legged on the floor was a young teen, his grin manic and his fringe covering both eyes in a curtain of wheat, hiding away the look that he was sending the stunned boy as he sat amongst the carnage, an assignment paper in his hand.
“Shishishishishi, look who’s finally come home.” Belphegor snickered, causing a tall, lithe man to pull his head out from the baker boy’s closet, spare binder in hand.
“Ah! The surveillance photos didn’t do you justice!” Lussuria gasped, sunglasses glinting as he scanned the drenched body.
Daiki thinned his lips and strained not to make a U-turn, doubting he’d get very far at all with two officers from the Vongola’s Varia standing in his room. This was proven even further as his back thudded against a chest, making him look over his shoulder and see the hulking form of the Lightning, Leviathan, taking up his doorway.
“This is who we’re after?” He scoffed, small irises criticizing the Sun’s very existence.
“He’s who Boss wants.” Came another voice, Mammon floating out of the bathroom, small bag in his hands. “We don’t need to know the details.”
“I beg your pardon?” Daiki uttered suddenly, looking between the mass of intruders. “Who wants who?”
“Our Boss, and you.” Belphegor kekkered, sending a paper aeroplane flying across the room. “Come on then.”
“I’m not going anywhere, thanks.” He denied, stepping out of Leviathan’s range. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave instead. So, if you would.”
Lussuria hummed to himself as he sauntered across the room, coming to stand toe to toe with the stern boy, a curled smile adorning his face.
“We’re sorry, honey, but we’ve got to follow orders! I’m sure you understand.”
“I understand that someone I am not familiar with at all has sent a group of people to my home, in which they then tore apart my room and have invaded my privacy. Whoever this Boss of yours is, I want nothing to do with him.”
Even as he said this, Daiki felt his lips burn, a tremor in his spine beginning. He knew full well who waited for him should he follow the Varia. The kid he hadn’t seen since he had gone uptown, ascended from the slums.
“Well, that’s too bad. Boss said he’d be willing to pay me.” Mammon hummed, turning to him. “You’re coming.”
Xanxus sipped away at his cup of amber, the liquid scalding his throat as he relaxed into his chair. His knees were crossed lazily as he reclined, wine eyes looking across the room to the mass on his bed.
It had been years since he had laid eyes on the figure of imposing muscle and strength, though, he had hoped to an extent that he wouldn't have had to reunite with the older slung over Leviathan’s shoulder, passed out from a heavy blow dealt by Mammon. But, it didn’t really matter, in the end he managed to catch the elusive bastard.
The Mafia hummed, letting his eyes drag over the person he had haunting his memory, been a specter in the corner of his room on dark nights. Daiki was back, and it would stay that way
Xanxus stilled his sip, turning his gaze on the older boy, watching as he slowly roused himself.
A hand came to the hair of blue, cradling his temple as a headache pouded his cranium. Sharp teeth gritted and ground as Daiki pushed himself to sit up.
“Ow,” He moaned, low and slow. “That hurts…”
Xanxus pressed his lips to the crystal glass as the based note rumbled through the walls, surprised at the reaction, but not incredibly so. He knew full well the root and cause of the heat in his stomach, alcohol never quite mimicking it quite the same.
Instead, what made his nerves spark with excitement was the amber encrusted gold that was turned on him, and what made his blood sing, was the unbridled anger mixed with inlays of pearly surprise.
“You!?” Daiki uttered, sounding both astonished and not in the least. “Why did you bring me here?”
“On a whim.” He answered, a half truth.
It was true that this sudden reeling in was a spur of the moment decision, however, the idea of dragging the baker's son as he fought tooth and nail had swarmed his mind for years since their separation.
“On a whim?” The older repeated, before shaking his head, getting to his feet. “I don't think you know how this sort of thing goes. You cannot just uproot me when you so please. I have things to do.”
“You make it sound as if you have a choice.” He huffed, watching the other get his shoes back on his feet.
The familiar phrase made him pause, eyes widening for a moment, before they softened. Daiki sighed loudly before standing straight, patting his pockets for all his possessions.
“I have my own life, and as wonderful as a reunion may have been, your actions were too abrupt and -pardon me when I say this- brutish.” He crossed his arms as he said this, causing eyes to be vectored to the muscle that defined his shirt.
“You may have not realised, but we have been separated for near seven years-”
“But you recognised me.” Xanxus snipped.
“An easy thing to do.” Daiki shrugged, “You may have cut your hair and changed your clothes, but I still see the little thief that doesn't know when to stop.”
The Sky bared his teeth at that, not at all liking the rebellion he was getting from a civilian.
“If you knew who I was, who I turned out to be, I doubt you'd be talking to me like that.” He scowled.
“If you had wanted to reintroduce yourself, a better result would have come from simply making an arrangement beforehand. A call would have serviced!”
A bubbling annoyance came through into the Sky's state, but a familiar tingle beginning in the pits of his stomach, one he hadn't felt since he was young.
“I sent the trash to get you and your belongings, that's more than enough.” He huffed, knowing he'd just chipped a hole into the armour.
“My belongings?” Daiki repeated, before narrowing his eyes. “Why would you bring my belongings?”
“I thought you'd want them with you.” Xanxus shrugged, a thrill coming as he saw the wavering patience. “You're staying here, after all.”
“I am doing no such thing.” The Sun snapped, standing tall and broadening his shoulders.
Lips curled into a grin as wine eyes danced with carnal engagement, the thrum of a threat hummed ow in the base of his skull, fingers curling as he could almost see the coiling fire that no doubt laid in the core of the handsome terror before him, spluttering with a barely tamed rage.
“I have things to go back to, my mother, my friends-”
“Friends?” Xanxus scoffed, before letting out a harsh laugh. “Those stinkin’ trash aren’t worth anything, they don’t know who you are. Who you really are.”
“You think you do? You’ve been absent for years.” Daiki gritted, collecting himself slightly.
The Sky twitched at that, intent on ripping down the defences and bringing out the godly monster he knew resided underneath that polished porcelain layer.
“I know a lot more than they do. I know about that fire that burns, the one you try to smother every single day.” He sneered, seeing hands slowly clench. “You try to contain yourself for those idiots-”
“I do not. I contain myself because I am sane. It’s called ‘impulse control’, perhaps you’ve heard of it?”
“If you’re so sane, then why do you have these urges?” Xanxus shot back, narrowing his eyes in mirth as he watched the rising tension in the other’s shoulders.
An elastic band being pulled taut.
“You’re one of us, Daiki. One of mine.”
“I am not a Varia.” Daiki hissed, bristling full force.
Wine eyes widened as the older boy moved forwards, amber-earth melting into a boiling molten gold, pools of generous fire swimming with beautifully complementary rage. Muscles shifted with rippling tension, the Sky’s mind flashing back to the lethal manner predator's bodies slunk between the grass in a country far away.
Xanxus bit his teeth together to hide the giddy jolt that tapped at his dopamine as a hand slammed down beside his head, the booming noise nearly blasting out his ear and making the hard wood of his chair groan in a personified pain. Heat radiated off the limb, copper-tan skin a conductor for the currents, sending sparks of thrill into the Sky’s own skin and make him tempted to lean against it.
“I don’t know what you’ve been doing all these years, but I’ve got my own life to run now. I was your friend when we were children, but now I will not be dragged into your messes anymore.”
“You knew about the Varia.” He commented, slightly distracted but not willing to show it.
“Anyone who doesn’t is a fool. You forget, I was raised in the same climate as you.” Daiki huffed, before bringing his hand over and pinching the wrathful boy’s chin, tilting his head up to see. “And subtle was never really your calling card.”
“Neither was yours.” Xanxus scoffed, feeling scaldingly cold fingers clean off the gleam of alcohol from his lips. “I remember a certain store front being set on fire one day after a kid was found dead.”
Precious metal narrowed at him, though a gleam of smoky mirth came through the videos pits.
“The poor boy didn’t deserve what that woman did to him.”
“Nonetheless, when her store was investigated, the murder weapon was found.”
Daiki shrugged before stepping back, stretching wide and groaning. He turned away from the observing Sky and bent his elbow over his head, allowing wine eyes to see the strong outline of a pair of broad shoulder blades.
“Guess I’ll see you around then, I’ve got a test tomorrow. Final exams and all that.”
The wrathful teen watched as he walked from the room, not bothering to move from his chair as the door gave a click as it shut behind the Sun. He frowned to himself in the silent room, casting his eyes over to the indent left in the bed from the hours spent under the other’s weight. Xanxus stood from his chair and sauntered across the room, standing at the bedside with a flatline expression, unreadable in every aspect. He breathed out through his nose after a moment before shrugging off his jacket and tossing himself onto the body warmed sheets.
If he pressed his nose into the pillow, inhaling the lingering scent of the baker’s boy, there was no one to testify as such.
“Haha, wow, that was a hard one!”
“Yeah, God, I completely forgot the name of my related text until the very end! I had to go back through and fill in the spaces I had left!” Daiki laughed to his friend, the boy cackling at his misfortune.
“Ah, but,” The Sun stretched his arms over his head and relished the warm sunshine. “Exams are over- finally.”
“What’re you planning for the holidays?” The other boy asked, checking his phone for any missed activity.
“Same, man. Same.”
“I might plan a thing with Jess, though. Haven’t seen her since exam season started.” Daiki hummed, getting a clap on the back.
“Ay, get some boy!”
“Nah mate,” He denied, shaking his head as they walked away from the hall and picked up their bags. “She’s got someone new again.”
“Oh? Guy or girl this time?” He asked.
Daiki took a deep breath and let out a loud, grating noise, stress from the season escaping in the form of a muffled screech. His spine cracked and popped as he rolled his shoulders, bag weighing heavy on one shoulder. The low, white roar of collective voices sounded through the school, students sighing in relief or crying out in despair. It was, in a sense, rather calming, compared to the almost tangible anxiety that saturated the air when they had collected outside the doors, notes in hand.
Amber-earth eyes widened as a cold wash dropped over Daiki’s body, the year turning to the howl in confusion. The Sun carefully looked over his shoulder along with his friend, obscured by the crowd and safe from view as he saw a young Squalo, hair cropped short and shiny as the metal that clipped his jacket.
“The fuck is he at?! Boss is going to throw a fucking tantrum if we don’t find him!” The Rain snapped, shooting the short Belphagor a sneer as he was giggled at.
“We’ll find him, we’ll find him. No one can outrun the prince.”
Teeth gritted inside the rogue’s mouth as he fought the desire to bolt blatantly, but instead held back the sigh of relief when his friend offered the idea.
“Hey, these guys are kinda...weird. Let’s go, you catching the bus?”
“Yeah, maybe they’re looking for a friend or something.”
Both of them turned and prepared to leave, waving at their other friends as they carefully moved through the mass, popular attention focused on the shouting Mafia men.
“You know what?! Fuck it!” Squalo roared, before stomping his booted foot against the concrete. “Yamaguchi Daiki! Get your ass over here!”
Daiki cursed quietly as his friend whipped around to look at him, baffled, before the rest of the crowd followed suit, creating vectors with their eyes and opening a path for the duo to see the softly face palming Sun.
“Shishishishishi, I told you, no one can run from the prince.”
Squalo stepped forwards, the flash of metal within his sleeve warning enough to the rogue.
“The fucking Boss wants you. Hurry up, I don’t have all fucking day.”
“Hm...” Daiki hummed, thinking to himself for a moment.
He decided to bolt, blatantly.
A rush of adrenaline made the corner of Daiki’s lip twitch, a hint of a smile coming out as he vaulted off a wall, leaving him to run at full speed past far backed traffic, suddenly grateful he didn’t take the bus. Feet pounded the pavement as he dashed along the walkway, people sending him glances of confusion but brushing him off as he melded into the crowd, the shouts of the Varia telling him he had lost them- even if only for now.
“God damn Varia,” Daiki hissed to himself, Japanese falling off his tongue. “What’s his problem?”
A flash of silver made his breath quiet before he ducked into a store, the attendant busy with another and not noticing him. The Sun breathed steadily for a moment, watching the Rain glance around before moving on. He sighed before stepping out and going in the opposite direction, crossing the street to the other side as an extra measure.
Daiki let his newly bought lolly clack against his teeth as he walked through the back alleyways, long familiar with the layout. His hands were shoved into his pockets as he passed a wall with nail marks scratching down the lower base, a huff of conspiratorial amusement leaving him, memories of certain events buzzing in his skull. A light jump allowed him to get over a small stream of some mysterious, rather odorous liquid of an origin he’d rather not learn, before he paused.
Xanxus e Daiki
Xanxus ran his fingers over the etched words, the carvings worn with time. Dirt and gravel coming off onto his pads, an unidentifiable expression marring his face.
“I thought I’d find you.” He breathed, eventually turning bloody ruby to amber encrusted gold.
He was met with a careful frown, a step of caution making Daiki engage his muscles in an effort to prepare to flee. Both boys in the ally knew that Daiki, as he was, untrained and civilian, would stand no chance against the Sky, and that all he had to rely on was the fresh memory of the winding corridors of humid stone and the speed of his own legs.
“What do you want?” He grunted, his words clipped.
Xanxus lowered his hand from the wall and turned to face him, feet slowly carrying him across the distance until he was less than an arm’s length away. A deep inhale allowed the wrathful boy the familiar scent he had carved into his memory, caramel, sugar, wood smoke and body wash all making an addicting odour that hooked his senses. Daiki raised an eyebrow, perhaps seeing the steady dilation of voideous pupils that expanded out into the bloody pools.
“You left without my permission.”
"I told you I would, you have no reason to be upset." The Sun dismissed.
Amber-earth eyes narrowed as Xanxus stepped forwards the finally distance, forcing the shorter Sky to tilt his head slightly to be able to keep those riches in his sights.
“Xanxus.” He gritted, the name rolling off his tongue in such a thick manner, the Sky himself swore he could taste it when he breathed in the air.
“What,” Daiki stressed, gritting his teeth down at him. “Do you want?”
Xanxus stared up at him with a harsh expression, but eyes, startlingly clear. The faint sound of teeth clacking behind lips reached his ears as the jaw, wrapped in copper skin, tense.
“Fall under my sky.”