* Author notes:

- Story takes place in an alternative universe in which shounen ai is as common as a neko citizen, and neko!Tsuna is older.

- Not Beta'd (/sob).

- Names are pronounced in the western format – eg. 'Kyouya Hibari' – at times I think would sound best.

- Chapter edited 11/10/2011

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Ferenco's lips curled up into a smile, and the short moment of silence was then followed with a boom.

Violent tremors begun taking over his body, and Tsuna found his hands and legs involuntarily start to shake, his eyes wide with horror. He restrained himself from making any noises by biting into the fabric of the blanket, but the urge to scream grew stronger by the second. He tried pressing his entire face into the bed, trying to muffle his voice as much as he could, but the pain was still that much more intolerable, worsening his shaking. He drew a shuddering breath, not allowing himself to sob.

There was something wrong. There was something extremely wrong with him. He knew it as soon as the high-pitched noise hit his ears, and because of that, he was losing his composure. His eyelids clenched together in an attempt to calm his mind, but his thoughts were already racing in his panic. 'Why aren't they-!'

Tsuna threw his head back and eyes open as he screamed loudly.

"AAAGH..!" He could feel hot tears leaking from the corners of his eyes, but the sound he desperately wanted to hear disappear was still ringing in his ears.

"A-agh..!" His arms, binded in front of his chest, were numb to the bone, and his ears refused to lay flat to protect himself from the high-pitched noise coming from beside the bed. His ears stood erect on their own, forcing more exposure to the noise onto him. His body shook violently.

"S-stop..!" He yelled, but his voice sounded weak even to him. Another second passed, and Tsuna let out another scream, though much less strained.

His ears felt close to bursting, but they wouldn't end it! "A-Agh! A-AHH!"

Tsuna buried the right side of his head deep into the bed, shielding one ear from the noise, but as he did so, a hand roughly grabbed his neck and pulled him up. He choked, but the screeching sound distracted him from the pain from his neck. "G-Ga-!"

"Scream, Tsunayoshi," a voice whispered into his ears. "I want to hear you scream."

Ferenco nodded at the other man in the room, and in response, the dial was turned further down, touching the edges of a vivid, red marker.

"GAAAAAGH!" Tsuna widened his eyes as tears spilled from his eyes.

"AAAGH!" Ferenco smirked as he tilted the screaming boy's chin up, allowing the camera on the ceiling to view the boy's expression. "Scream louder." "STOP! G-GH-AAGH! STOP! STOP!"

"FUCKING BASTARD! MAKING US SIT HERE AND WATCH THIS!" Gokudera slammed his fist onto the surface of his desk as his eyes turned blood-shot with rage.

The girls in the room were screaming, covering their own feline ears in a desperate attempt to block out the noise, but Bianchi, having none, remained unaffected like the others. Her shaky grip on the girls' shoulders showed her breaking composure, however, and she didn't know how long she had left before she also snapped. When Tsuna let out another scream from the pain, that was when her grip on both Kyoko and Haru tightened. It was far from a gesture of comfort, though.

"AAAGHH!"

"STOP THIS MADNESS, YOU BASTARD!" She screamed to the screen hanging above them all. Her voice cracked from the anger coursing through her veins.

"AAAAGGHHH!"

"HE'S GOING TO LOSE HIS HEARING! STOP-!"

"!"

All the screaming stopped, and the girls in the room whimpered. Every other soul remained speechless, and Tsuna stared with wide eyes, the life in them visibly draining.

For an entire two seconds, not a single person had the coherency to talk. The gun pointed at the direction of the now-broken acoustic device lowered, and the owner resumed in his broadcast. The man ignored the dead figure of his employee laying limp against the wall, speaking as if the last few minutes hadn't happened.

"Vongola, imagine," Ferenco started with a smile, earning enraged growls. "What you just heard was only 20% of what Tsuna-kun had to go through due to our microphone dampening the sound waves."

Reborn's frown deepened as he tightened his grip on his crossed arms.

"And can you believe? What Tsuna heard. It was only 60% of the machine's maximum strength."

Gokudera shook violently in response, but it was out of both fear and anger, his face drained of any colour. Yamamoto clenched his fists by his sides as anger coursed through him.

"I have another box ready for use." Two men entered the room through sliding doors and walked up to the unconscious figure of the other man in the background, bleeding from the gun wound through his chest. They carried him out of the room before another figure entered. The new figure kept his face impassive as he held an exact look-alike of the previous machine in his hands.

Tsuna felt his body tremble, and Ferenco noticed it well, still holding him up by the neck. The man inched his face closer to his with an amused expression, and he leaned further in until their noses brushed together.

"The Vongola seem to be helpless when they're most needed, huh, Tsuna? They can't even do a thing while you're here shaking with such a pitiable face."

The dark-haired Italian chuckled at the younger male's expression before brushing their lips together, the movement causing the other's breath to hitch.

"You must really hate Giotto right now, having betrayed you like this." And he smirked wider when he tasted salt against his lips.

P r o l o g u e

家庭教師ヒットマンREBORN!©Amano Akira

Present time : Italy / Japan

A tall figure dressed in black walked undisturbed as the crowd around him buzzed about. The man looked to be in his early 20s, and his sharp eyes held an uninterested expression as he ignored his surroundings. In his right hand, a small suitcase was held by the handle, and on his shoulder, a yellow bird sat comfortably. He silently made a beeline for the exit of the airport; leather-clad shoes tapping at every step.

"There is something you should know about Japan, Giotto"

The dark figure entered the car-park and searched for his car; entering it immediately after finding it. Inserting his keys, he sped out of the private car-park and into the streets; merging with the traffic. And his pace remained at a steady speed.

Though the car accelerated at a speed that exceeded the limits given for the streets, vehicles around him weren't brought into any danger. Many had formed a passage when they noticed the dark vehicle heading their direction, and a wave of relief spread throughout those the car passed.

"The Vongola Family is the most powerful corporation in the country."

A slight frown graced the figure's face as he turned a right and passed an alleyway.

"They have leaders known as 'guardians' that maintain certain areas of the organization"

Making a sharp turn at the next right, the man sped his vehicle back to the alleyway; parking outside of it and entering the dark corridors. He was met with the sickly sounds of footsteps and laughter, and this was enough to bring out his tonfas from their resting place.

"Kyouya Hibari is a Japanese man aged 22."

The boys crowded around the frightened woman froze once they heard his voice; turning their heads reluctantly. A wave of dread rushed through the group as they saw the figure in the distance, and they trembled as they watched the man's slow movements.

"He keeps a pair of tonfas hidden on him at all times and upholds discipline."

The woman thanked the retreating figure as he returned to his vehicle; uncaring of the bodies littered behind him. And she sighed with relief as a crowd walked to her direction in order to examine her state - as well as the poor souls that were bitten.

The car soon left the perimeter, and the vehicle continued at the previous speed it had been accelerating at. The driver, feeling a wave of restlessness dawn upon him, covered his mouth when a yawn escaped his lips, and the car sped up as soon as the yawn ended. Those behind of the vehicle were left puzzled when the Gallardo Spyder moved at an even greater speed.

"He is known as the Vongola's Cloud Guardian."

A loud laughter echoed down the hallways as two figures walked towards a large door and knocked at it; one man grinning wildly while the other fidgety. A large smile graced the louder one's face as they were allowed entrance, and the same loud voice continued to escape the taller one's lips as the other man fell silent.

"There are many that cower just by the mention of Kyouya Hibari, but one exclusion to this is the Vongola's Sun Guardian."

The tall man dressed in a dark suit grinned as another occupant of the room pointed a gun to his direction; sweat evident all over his oily face.

"He is another Japanese man. Age: 23."

A minute later, the man pointing the gun lowered his weapon and fell to his knees; relieved at the other's proposal. The person at the door merely ranted on about another subject not related to the one at hand, and he remained oblivious to the constant words of thanks thrown at his direction from both the previously-fidgety man and his superior.

"He is also known as Ryouhei Sasagawa. Former globally-known boxing champion."

The slighter man bowed to the white-haired figure as he took his leave, and the endless words of gratitude continued being yelled at his direction. A small smile graced the latter's face as he reached the sports car he parked outside of the grand office building, and an amused chuckle escaped his lips before entering his car.

"He maintains global respect for the family and deals with negotiations."

A bored figure yawned lazily as a woman in front of him motioned for his attention; his eyes not even focused on the words located on the white board.

"The youngest leader, being only 11, is a boy named Lambo Bovino. He is an Italian member still studying, and he is the Vongola's thunder guardian."

An exasperated sigh escaped the woman's lips as she returned a piece of paper to the curly-haired boy.

"But he is often misjudged. And that is a mistake many companies rue when associating with him."

Eyes scanned the paper for a second before scrunching it up and throwing it away; already tired of his class. Others in the room could only huff at the other's attitude, but at the same time, admire the grades he continued to maintain.

"Lambo Bovino is a genius child that joined the corporation when he was merely five years old. He should never be overlooked."

Another student in the class lost all will to speak as his previous snide remark was thrown back at him by the half-asleep Italian boy. Every comment he made about the other's family was thrown to his face, and witnesses couldn't help but watch with mirth.

The young boy in question didn't pay much attention though; only wishing to return home. His mouth moved on impulse whenever another threatened his dear 'family', and so he didn't have to exert much energy in order to defend the Vongolas; much less pay attention to the rubbish spouted by others. He merely needed to be there to get the heck out.

"He is still young so he isn't appointed a specific area yet, but he acts as a public defense mechanism; re-directing all threats to the family back to it's source. He is known to have an infinite amount of connections, so all ill-natured rumors about the family are often disposed of effortlessly through them."

Two figures sat silently as a round man stood from the table and motioned with his hands of his proposal to the family. His subordinates sat at the table as well; nodding furiously at their boss' words and talking amongst themselves.

"Then there is the Vongola's rain guardian, Takeshi Yamamoto."

A laughter resounded in the room as soon as an argument started between his partner and the man at the opposite end of the table.

"This man is a globally-recognized swordsman. He is of Japanese ethnicity and is 21 years of age."

A sigh escaped the other man's lips as the Japanese man talked calmly with the round man; easing the tension in the room. The negotiations were finalized, and the two were able to leave.

"He upholds peace within the corporation and it's affiliates."

The silver-haired man to the side of the laughing man walked with a scowl; muttering incoherent words aimed at the people they left in the room.

"His partner, Hayato Gokudera, is the vice president of the corporation, and is known as the Vongola's Storm Guardian."

A glare left subordinates frozen on spot as the passing man caught them whispering about him. Their whispering died down, and they immediately left to continue their previous tasks.

"He upholds the corporation's honor through his actions and manages the corporation's financial area. He is of Italian background; aged 21."

Looking at his phone with a frown, the silver-haired man complained to the taller man next to him who accused him of being overprotective.

"He is a genius as much as he is a temperamental person, and he is known to be very prideful of the company."

Eyes colored a bright azure watched as the other man took out the final folder on the table. The older man gave him two photos in which he observed with great intensity, and he mentally took note of the people in the photos.

"Which brings us to the final and most important people involved in the Vongola corporation."

Eyes narrowed slightly at the figure of the blonde Italian man with a beard. He held a mournful look in his eyes, and his build looked slightly intimidating. The man wore a dark suit above a formal white shirt, and his tie was of a plain black, but despite his professional appearance, the man seemed almost uncomfortable.

"Iemetsu Sawada, in his late forties, is the head of the Vongola corporation in Japan. His only superior is the main boss in the other photo."

The same pair of eyes trailed off to the other photo in his hands; observing the elderly man with a smile on his face.

"Timoteo Vongola. Ninth head of the Vongola corporation. He is believed to be retiring within the next year."

The blond figure stared curiously at his superior; a look of slight indifference etched onto his face. The other remained silent; staring at the photos with a hardened expression.

"The ninth head is retiring, but no one knows the identity of his successor. Apparently, though, he has already been chosen. You will go to Japan and find out what you can about the new heir. I have already sent people to investigate the base here in Italy."

Interested in the malice evident in the other's voice, Giotto took another sip of his warm drink; placing it back on the coffee-brown table with a soft 'tap'. His eyes remained glued on the Japanese head of Vongola as the photo lay still on the table.

"Do I have a deadline?"

"Two months. The head of Vongola is retiring in a year's time, and he only states that information about his successor will be released a month before that time. I want to know why this is all treated confidentially, and I want to know more about who the successor of the biggest corporation in the world is."

Amusement glinted in the other's eyes as he watched his superior's expression towards the matter change drastically.

"Ferenco, may I ask as to why the head of the Global Order is so cautious of the Vongola corporation? I don't believe they have done anything in particular to threaten the state of the countries they are located in."

The man seated across from the blond man re-collected the photos on the table and gathered them all in one folder. After clearing the table, another envelope was brought out from his breast pocket. The envelope was small and white, but the detail of the frames etched onto the corners of the rectangle-shaped paper was of a brilliant gold.

"There is reason to believe that the Vongola Famiglia is more than they claim to be. We believe that they are hiding a much darker secret."

"A secret?"

The older man narrowed his eyes at the envelope in hand, and he tightened his grip on it.

"The Cosa Nostra."

The blond's expression hardened before re-running his eyes over the photos of the suspects. Giotto furrowed his brows.

It was possible, he thought. For a large-scale organization, it was possible for them to run things through the black market discreetly. And with the Vongola's amount of influence, it would make sense that there were no leads or trails to follow. So how -

"There is a possibility that the Vongola family is a mafia family."

"But on what grounds? With their years, they wouldn't risk a chance of showing this– "

Giotto fell silent as soon as the other man shot a glare at his direction. The other's eyes – hardened and filled with suppressed rage, narrowed at him with obvious disdain, and Giotto fought the urge to clench his fists in anger. Instead, he lowered his head to look at the floor.

"The Global Order would not waste their time on meaningless cases or rumors. We have reason to believe this is true, Giotto. It is best that you not doubt the organization that took you in; much less the man who made the decision."

Giotto held back a frown.

"I'm sorry. I did not mean to doubt you."

Ferenco kept his gaze narrowed but did not portray any other emotion; motioning for Giotto to stand as he did. Giotto did accordingly and watched as his boss moved towards the dark-oak desk in the room.

"You of all people should know how ruthless the world of the Cosa Nostra can be. As a global officer of the Order, you also know what we try and prevent."

Electric blue eyes looked coldly towards the back of the man that stood facing the window, and a frown graced his face before it was quickly replaced by an apathetic expression.

"The Global Order exists in order to dispose of threats that endanger the state of all nations, protect civilians, and maintain peace at a global level. All officers dedicate their time in order to follow through this existence, and each man and woman apart of the Order strive to maintain harmony."

"–So as a leading officer, I want you to visit the Vongola base in Japan and find what you can. No guises, Giotto. They will find out and become even more wary of your presence."

The phone located on the desk beeped after the order was given, and a soft voice of a woman began talking on the speaker. Giotto watched in silence as his superior walked up to the desk and picked up the phone. After bringing it up to the side of his head, his boss looked up at him and waved him off.

"My new secretary is waiting outside. She will take you to the airport and give you more information about where you are going."

"Then,"

With a quick bow and turn of the heel, Giotto walked up to the doors located on the other side of the room and pushed them open. He narrowed his eyes.

"I'll be leaving, sir."

Fourteen years ago : Italy

"NOO! PLEASE DON'T!"

"Don't hurt my mother..!"

Shards of glass lay scattered across the small room, and the distinct smell of gun powder wafted out the windows of the home. The furniture found in the front room were toppled over on their sides – if not thrown outside the building, and the large rug, once a healthy brown, was stained a dark black.

"Shut up, brat!"

The front of a dark leather shoe slammed harshly against the stomach of a young boy lying on his side, and another powerful kick was thrown to his arms as they attempted to protect the front of his body – already backed up against the wall.

A loud yell of pain escaped the child's mouth before he realized he was already losing consciousness from the continued abuse.

"NOO! GIOTTO!"

Hot tears fell from his eyes as he watched his mother being dragged away to another one of their rooms; unable to help her. All the men left him to bleed to death as they prioritized the woman, and they slammed the door of the bedroom; sneering at the woman's screams.

Mother...

The boy choked on his blood as he began losing his sight; tears still refusing to dry out.

His breathing had become dangerously shallow because of the pain, but his heart still beat rapidly as emotions of anger, frustration, fear, and regret swirled violently in his chest.

Sometime after having heard a blood-curling scream, the small boy lost consciousness.

But despite his half-conscious state, he was painfully aware of the voice having belonged to his dear mother.

The situation was rather familiar, he thought wryly. The smell was the same; having the exact same, disgusting, iron-like odor that could only belong to fresh human blood. The sight was as putrid as the smell. The damp floors, the still bodies, the broken glass, the disfigured limbs, and the fleshy- gag.

Everything.It was the same, fucking, thing.

"Ferenco," an aged, gentle voice spoke up. "If it's too much, close your eyes." His voice was soft – as if hoping not to break the silence. But the other didn't care.

The dark-haired boy did nothing.

Narrowing his eyes further at the body of – what he thought, was a small dog, Ferenco continued to follow the old man, and he did so wordlessly.

Step by step, they entered the dark corridors of the small home, and as they walked deeper into the hallway, they noticed a tall figure standing outside one of the entrances of the rooms. The figure turned to face them before kneeling down to the old man leading, and they greeted them respectfully before informing them of their find.

"–a boy–" Ferenco heard the other say before peeking from behind his guardian's legs.

What he was greeted with, made him flinch.

The same.

Kneeling by a bed, a small figure of a boy with bright yellow locks laid unconscious; holding something. Entering the room – despite the protests of the agent working for his guardian, he observed the scene even more, and he realized that the lump on the bed, was a woman. A woman who no longer even looked remotely-close to a human.

He felt like throwing up, but as he gazed at the face of the young boy, he found himself growling.

The boy wasn't even his age. A good six years younger than him maybe. He looked fucking eight.

"This is disgusting."

Another four men – paramedics by the look of their uniforms, entered the room with great urgency; stroller beds at hand. Swiftly, they placed the unconscious boy onto one, and when the boy was taken out of the room in a great rush, there was a short discussion between the rest of the men in the room.

They already knew the woman before them was dead.

After a final decision, they carried the fleshy figure with the sheets of the bed it lay on, and they placed it onto the rolling bed. The two paramedics left as soon as it was done, and only Ferenco was left with his guardian.

The agent excused himself in order to retrieve the others and investigate the situation of the other residents, and the older man nodded in understanding; turning his attention back to his son.

The man looked at his adopted son; smiling sadly at him.

"Ferenco, let us also take our leave." He whispered softly.

Ferenco said nothing, but he trembled with anger; tears threatening to fall from his electric green eyes. "The Cosa Nostra..." He managed through gritted teeth, earning a frown from the older man.

Emotions of complete rage and frustration swelled from inside his chest, and he felt as if something inside of him had been stolen and destroyed. His pride, perhaps.

He saw nothing but red.

Clenching his fist, the teenaged boy growled out the rest of his words; oblivious to the mournful expression on the older man's features.

"I will make themallsuffer."