Notes: A few people have asked about a reappearance of the OC from Sets of Ten, and I'm very sorry to say that Senpai will not be making a comeback. He's off somewhere in college, making a life for himself, and has probably mostly forgotten about that one weird girl he was almost friends with his last year of middle school. I'm really surprised that a lot of people seemed to become so attached to him, but he's definitely gone for good. So sorry!

((Xanxus pov))

Xanxus stared at the sleeping girl next to him as if the sheer force of his will would make her disappear.

Although, he supposed that he shouldn't wish that until after she gave birth – girl or boy, it didn't matter, despite what most people thought. Any new, legitimate Vongola blood would be welcome. And he supposed that he should probably stop calling her girl. They were married, no matter how much neither of them had wanted it, and the girl was heavily pregnant with his child.

It would be comical watching her waddle around with her extended stomach overwhelming her tiny frame if it hadn't been his fault. He hated himself even more every time he heard her pained whimpers or saw her rubbing the swell of her belly with that vacant look on her face. Sometimes, when he looked at her, he still saw that knobby-kneed ten-year-old with scratched up palms and uncombed hair instead of his wife. He always ended up drinking more the days that happened.

There was something so inherently fucked up about this situation, and if he could have avoided it, he would have. He would have protected his brothers (not his brothers, they were never really his brothers) better, and maybe agreed to marry that girl all those years ago if he had known that this would be his life as the Tenth.

The girl stirred slightly with a grimace wrinkling her brows, and he took that as his cue to leave. They avoided each other as best they could when awake, and it really was for the best. The girl hated him, he was sure, though she never said as much aloud. She didn't say much of anything, from his understanding – most of the staff apparently thought her to be simple, according to Squalo, and wasn't that just great? There was already enough unrest over this whole mess without the added issue of the help's gossip.

A soft groan alerted him that he had waited too long to leave, and he pointedly looked away from her as he felt her awaken next to him. A small hitch in her breath let him know that she had noticed his presence, and he grimaced. He should have left when he first noticed her waking, but instead he had let his thoughts distract him. He made note to never let it happen again.

He had figured that she would ignore him as best she could and make her way to the connected bathroom to do whatever it was she did in the mornings so he could make his escape for the rest of the morning, but instead, she tentatively called his name, her voice soft like she expected to be yelled at for speaking to him. He winced, remembering how his own mother would sometimes talk to her clients in a similar manner, and turned to her, eyebrow raised in question.

She floundered for a second, visibly surprised at being acknowledged, and Xanxus couldn't help but to share the sentiment. She had been the one to talk first despite the lack of communication, and he would let her say whatever it was she wanted before he said anything.

"I was just – I mean, do you think I could – the office," she stuttered, her Italian still accented just enough to be able to tell that it wasn't her first language. He fought the urge to scoff, biting his tongue from insulting her, and let her finish. She had to visibly calm herself, and Xanxus couldn't help but to find it interesting how she could act so composed in public, shallow smile and perfect makeup, yet still be the same, bumbling idiot anywhere else.

"I was wondering," she started again, voice in a forced steady, "if you would mind me using the office for a nursery."

Now she was the one avoiding his gaze, and Xanxus couldn't help the snort that escaped him. The girl acted like he was going to kill her for the smallest, imagined slight, as if her own father hadn't threatened him over and over again for the past decade over her continued well-being. It was almost like she didn't understand that she was the only thing keeping him in his position of heir. A burning swell of anger stirred in his gut, and he forced it away as well as he could. He wouldn't yell at a pregnant woman – he would never sink that low, if he could help it. He'd take it out on someone later if he had to, but he wasn't going to yell at the girl when she hadn't said anything to deserve it.

He glanced at the section of wall that hid the private office attached to their room. It was, as far as he knew, mostly empty with only the bare minimum of furniture in it. He hadn't used it in years, preferring to keep his work out of the main house, away from nosy elders, and it had sat unused since the failed coup. There was no reason to deny her it, and it would give her something to do. It may even get the old man to stop hinting at his hopes for the bonding or whatever bullshit he spewed during the mandatory family dinners.

"Do whatever you want," he grunted, ignoring how she jumped at the sound of his voice. She whispered her quiet thanks before getting out of bed and going about her morning routine like he had thought she would originally. He couldn't help but to notice how thin she was despite the protruding stomach and frowned. He was sure that woman normally gained weight in their pregnancy, but he wasn't an expert. As far as he knew, she went to all her appointments and nothing negative had made its way back to him, so it was probably fine.

The second the bathroom door clicked shut, he was up and out of bed. Getting dressed took no time at all, and he was soon stalking out of their shared room and into the hallway of the family wing. He sneered at the passing trio of maids that were sent to keep an eye on them, ignoring their murmured greetings.

He had a certain swordsman to find for a spar before he snapped.

The girl had gone ahead and taken over the office in their room, directing the staff in painting and moving furniture. He was sure that this was the most anyone in the house had heard her speak, and he had overheard a few of the servants whispering about how they hadn't known she spoke Italian. He couldn't help the snort that escaped him then – maybe the brat was smarter than anyone had thought. She certainly had most the household underestimating her, and she had been living with them for nearly four years now.

He had been right in his assumption that her finding something to occupy herself with would get the old man off his back about that bonding bullshit, and he was infinitely thankful that the dinners were spent mostly with the girl talking about her plans for her nursery rather than the old man dropping hints and making pointed remarks. The ninth was nowhere near as subtle as a mafia don should be, but he guessed old age and family made it different.

He had also been right about the girl being too thin for a pregnant woman, and he was much less pleased with that. She had been put on bed rest for the remaining three months of her pregnancy, which had suited Xanxus just fine – made it easier to avoid her during the day, but it was the fact that the idiot had apparently not been eating properly that annoyed him.

If anything happened to that baby, they would both be put in a position he was sure neither of them ever wanted to revisit, and the stupid girl couldn't seem to grasp that. She still wouldn't eat everything she was supposed to regularly, and then when she did, always under the careful eye of some Sun or other, she would end up getting sick and throwing it all up. It was more than he could handle, the sickly, sweet scent of vomit clinging to her and the growing paleness of her skin, so he left.

He forced a mission away from the Varia for himself and his guardians, said a short farewell to his bedridden wife who had taken to spending all her time in her finished nursery, and got the hell out of the main house like the hounds of hell were nipping at his heels. Even in the car, he could feel the old man's disappointed gaze on the back of his neck, but he had years of ignoring his disapproval under his belt. Besides, it was for the best that he left, even if only for a short while. He was probably the one making the girl sick in the first place.

The mission had been disappointingly easy, which meant that he had returned a couple days before scheduled. He had contemplated staying away for a few more days anyway, but he knew that he would never hear the end of it from the old man if he had. So here he was, trudging up the steps to the main house in a downpour, the water weighing down his already heavy jacket and hair. The butler scurried out of his way when he yanked open the door, the corner of his lips pulled up in a growl, and he could see a pair of maids trying to hide in the shadows of the staircase.

The way to his room was thankfully devoid of servants, but he couldn't help the growing dread of the inevitability of seeing his wife. If he was lucky, she'd be in that nursery of hers, sleeping or whatever it was pregnant women did with their day. However, luck had never truly been on his side, despite what he had thought when he was younger.

The large windows at the other side of the room were open despite the storm outside, curtains whipping inwards with the wind and letting rain drench the carpet. He stalked across the room to close the windows, grimacing at the squelch beneath his boots before turning to look for his idiot wife.

The girl had left the hidden door to her nursery wide open, showing him the pale blue paint covering the once beige walls and the fancy, wooden furniture that looked like they were probably some sort of heirlooms. The girl was laying on a chaise lounge across from the crib, in easy sight from the entrance, her round stomach seemingly even more pronounced than it had been four days ago.

"Oi," he snapped, annoyed at nearly everything, "what the fuck were you thinking?"

He could see her jerk awake and didn't feel a single ounce of guilt at her scared look. Her head whipped towards him instantly, and he could see the whites of her eyes and her lips parted in a silent gasp. She was real fucking lucky that he wasn't someone trying to kill her because she had chosen the worst possible place to defend herself, and he would bet that she didn't even think of moving the gun he knew she had under her side of the bed into her little project.

"Xanxus?" she murmured, confusion filling her voice. "You're back early."

"Yeah," he snapped, "And I came back to my room being fucking flooded."

She frowned and pushed herself up with some difficulty. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Xanxus made note of the fact that she was supposed to be on bedrest not reclining on shitty piece of French furniture that probably didn't supply any sort of back support.

"I was airing out the rooms," she replied, hand cradling her stomach. The sight of it made something unpleasant twist in his own stomach and he decided to ignore it for now.

"During a thunderstorm?" he asked, his incredulity obvious even to himself.

"I wanted to get the nursery aired out before you came back," she admitted with a practiced shrug of her shoulders, too casual to be anything but uneasy. "I've decided to sleep in here."

Xanxus rolled his eyes, "And why is that?"

"Just because," she answered, staring obstinately at the wall. Xanxus could feel the dull simmer of irritation already settled in his gut roil and bit back a snarl.

"Why don't you just sleep in your bed," he asked, teeth gritted to hold himself back as much as he could. The girl grumbled to herself, her annoyance at being woken up too soon paired with her pregnancy making her brave.

"It's not mybed," she snapped, "It's yours. I'll do just fine in here."

"You're an idiot," he couldn't help but to snap back, growing angrier at her flinch. "This is your fucking room, too, dumbass. If anything, it's more yours than mine, now, so you might as well use it instead of locking yourself away like some sort of fairytale and making yourself even more sick."

The rough, cadenced accent he had grown up on the streets using had come out in full force despite him thinking that he had gotten rid of it years ago, and he growled in frustration, running a scarred hand roughly through his hair, fingers snagging on the feathers dangling by his ear. The taste of blood in his mouth let him know that he had bit threw his cheek, and the familiarity of it calmed him down some. He refused to look at the girl even when he heard the tell-tale sounds of her tearing up.

"Okay," she replied softly, "I'm sorry." He was surprised to hear her speak in Japanese after years of her not doing so in his presence, and something about that made the anger inside him deflate. He exhaled loudly, tilting his head back and feeling the cold, still drenched fabric of his coat against the back of his neck. He was too tired to deal with this anymore, and he cracked his neck in irritation.

"Whatever," he grunted, the foreign language settling oddly on his tongue as he headed towards the closet to change out of his mission clothes, "Just – stop being an idiot."

"I can't exactly help it," she responded, a surprising amount of attitude in her voice, and he huffed out a silent laugh.

"Believe me, I'm well-aware of that," he said dryly, sliding on a dry shirt, "But fucking try."

"I'll do my best then," she muttered, and when he moved to look at her, she had already turned her back to him from where she sat on the bed. Her shoulders still seemed ridiculously thin, but they were set in a way that made her seem stronger than he knew she was. It seemed that she had decided she was done with the conversation, and Xanxus snorted as he left the room.

She was still such a brat.

More Notes: So, writing Xanxus is actually a lot more enjoyable compared to writing Tsuna. He has much more of an idea of what's going on in the Vongola compared to Tsuna, who is actually pretty clueless when it comes to her position (but in her defense, it's not like anyone has told her anything). Likewise, Xanxus has very little knowledge on anything when it comes to Tsuna and is also dealing with some feelings about the age difference (but in a very poor way). My sad children have no concept of communication, and it makes everything awkward and sort of depressing.

Also, I'm contemplating writing three Xanxus chapters then going back to Tsuna instead of my original plan of having an interlude with three different scenes in his pov. It probably wouldn't be a regular thing, but I figured I could have interludes of him whenever I feel more information that Tsuna doesn't know is needed or whenever I get tired of writing in Tsuna's pov (bc it's surprisingly draining and i don't deal with emotions well). Thoughts?