Katekyo Hitman Reborn! universe

Jayson paid little mind to Kurai's words but more so her actions. Kurai seemed in fact cruel but her laughter and the way she acted seemed as if she was hiding something. Jayson shared in her own laugh as she saw the girl getting ready to leave. "At least I don't hide behind some fake and pathetic facade of strength. At least I actually give a damn about the people around me who care for me." Jayson was pretty sure Kurai had heard it before she took her leave. Jayson had known she seemed weak but to her so did Kurai. Kurai had the chance to kill her right there while her guard was down monetarily and she didn't. It proved both of their weakness besides so random leader came at her and called her weak she was prepared to hear that often since Jayson was a young female leading a strong long generations worth mafia family.

Kurai's words didn't bother her as now Jayson was certain by her body language and actions proved her susicions of the girl hiding something and that ma just lead to the exact reason why she had come after her. Jayson wasn't sure if Kurai knew but Jayson saw her eyes water and knew that there was a reason for her actions. Jayson didn't care what Kurai's expectations of her were and didn't give quite a damn about her disappointment. She too was weak in a way. Any ruthless and cold-hearted killer as Kurai seemed to want to make herself out to be would've taken the opening Jayson left but Kurai didn't which proves no matter is she wanted to admit it or not something stopped her from doing so. Whether it was plain stupidity or her own skeletons in the closet Jayson wasn't completely sure but she was leaning more towards the ladder.

Right now Jayson had things of more importance than dwelling on some random girl who came to fight her for own reasons when she had just become leader. Whoever she was needed to really sort out who it was she really wanted to take care of because there was no way Jayson had ever sparked anything between the two as she has never even spoken to the girl in her life let alone ever hear anyone utter her name so what did it matter right now? Jayson left the room not bothering nor caring enough to check to see if the leader had left. Jayson went to where she heard the sobbing just moments earlier to see where her mother was lying on the couch in the large living room before Shiro took her out.

Jayson held no emotion on her face seeing specific a news story being told on some channel. Jayson turned her attention to the story and saw that the horrid man that stole her entire childhood walking out of a courthouse with a smug grin plastered on his face as he walked into a limo. Anger arose withing her. That man was freed from prison on the pretense of good behavior and fufilling a good amount of time under the charge of robbing a convience store. The Vongolas could've never pressed charges on the man due to their own history and crimes. So to see him free Jayson was beyond being talked down to be calm. She saw red and all she wanted to do was hear his screams of pain and pleads for mercy like she heard from her sister as he and his croonies beat her to death. Jayson never wished to see his face again but now she had to make the choice of carrying out vengence or letting all of that die.

Ai did nothing about their enemies escaping, as at her default speed, she would have never caught them. Although, because she put analysis of the enemy's flames at such a high priority, she would have been more likely to chase after the enemies, but yet stayed to check upon Josei's condition. It was likely due to the bug in her system disrupting here normal decision making, but she hadn't noticed it that time.

"Samuel," Ai called, "Josei has received various fracture wounds and is in critical condition, but still retains a steady pulse, but with continued blood loss, fatality is imminent. However, using the Activation properties of your flames, the bleeding can be stopped, and Josei can remain in a stable condition. However, it will require more conventional human medical care of this time for him to recover to his default state."

"What the?" asked Samuel, he had needed 2.1 seconds to recover his senses. Since he was aware of battle, but the technique had never been used on him before. He would have chased the enemies, but Since Ai had recovered much faster Samuel only heard her say "medical care of this time for him to recover to his default state."
Samuel looked remembered josei. He didn't understand all the big words, but he did understand medical care and recover. The only person he had ever healed before was himself. he wasn't sure how to heal others. Then he thought of his Phoenix. When it was in him he healed more automatically.
Samuel quickly went to josei. He thought for a moment then said "Phoenix... um I... um need you to come out now" then all of a sudden the Phoenix began coming out from Samuel's mouth. The Phoenix was made of sun flames, which was not dangerous since sun flames heal. It perched itself on Samuel's shoulder. It was slightly small for a box weapon.
Samuel was feeling wobbly at the knees now that the Phoenix wasn't in his body any more. His arms and legs felt stiff and heavy, but now wasn't the time for that. "um Phoenix go into Josei and heal him, please." he said. The Phoenix nodded to say yes. It went into Josei with no problem.
Samuel felt as the flames went through Josei's body, not missing a spot. His external wounds healed getting noticeably smaller. Others might not have seen it, but Samuel felt the bones inside of Josei mending and all internal injuries healing.
Josei was completely healed, save A few small bruises and scratches. The flames began to waver and Samuel's eyes began closing against his will. His phoenix automatically removed itself from Josei and returned to it's box, since it didn't have enough flames to keep it going. Samuel no longer had the energy to keep it up and fell to his knees. Then fell completely. He was now passed out beside the unconscious Josei.

Ai observed as Samuel, using his box weapon, seemed to have magically healed Josei to a near-perfect condition. Ai deemed it some sort of miracle, but from her experience, she knew that miracles never came without costs, nor did anything. But then, as if shed jinxed it, Samuel himself fainted of exhaustion. Ai gazed down at the two unconscious humans at her feet as she calculated her next line of actions. She'd have to return to the boss, and so did the the other two guardians, but they couldn't preform such a task unassisted. Without so much as a sigh, she brought each of the men over her shoulders at a time and began walking, slowly. Ai's body was in no way capable of carrying both men at once, but she had a tendency to bypass it's limits whenever necessary.

Completely distracted by his task at hand, Donovan didn’t even notice the stone coming flying towards him. The air around the Asteroid Guardian shimmered ever so slightly and the rock dropped straight down to the ground. If he hadn’t been in Chroma state, its initial velocity would have been more than enough to punch a hole through his head. Turning his head, a look of surprise shot across the boy’s face, he hadn’t expected him to be able to move, let alone stand and throw things. With his usual look of arrogance, Donovan assessed the situation.

The area around him was covered in craters, Trevor’s doing no doubt. In one of these craters lay a dead Vongola, unfortunately the one he liked the most out of them. He still couldn’t believe Trevor had killed him. Yes, it was what they were sent to do but for some reason, he just couldn’t see Trevor giving the finishing blow, it just didn’t suit him. The C-Frame had disagreed, taking control and murdering right before his eyes. The poor guy didn’t even see it coming. Donovan shook his head to clear out the thoughts. Right now, he had to focus on the task at hand.

The only other Vongola was a girl who looked about his age. She was cute, though not nearly as cute as the girl inside, but something about her made him feel uncomfortable, though he couldn’t put his finger on it. It wasn’t until now that he noticed Kurahoshi standing beside him. Donovan didn’t know Kurahoshi very well, they never really spoke even during training. Still, his sensory disupton would be a welcome addition to the upcoming fight. Samuel had made his way onto the battlefield, looking for a rematch. Donovan smiled, he admired his determination.

Before he could start the battle however, a sudden signal from Kurai told them to retreat. He breathed a sigh of relief, now he could check on Trevor. Flashing his opponent’s his trademark cocky grin, Donovan gave them a mini-salute. “Sorry about your friend, I wish I got to face him.” The sadness behind his eyes was hidden well below a layer of arrogance. By the time Kurahoshi had raised his sword, Donovan was already out of range, racing towards the mountain Trevor had landed on. He passed Kurai on the way by, giving her a quick wave and a wink. Not even her giant cat could keep up with him and she was soon left in his dust.

Arriving at the mountain, Donovan’s heart rose at the sight of his unharmed friend. Deactivating Chroma state so he didn’t scare him, he walked slowly up to the boy and sat down beside him. For a few minutes nobody said anything, the only sound was light breathing and chirping birds.
“It’s not your fault you know,” He said, breaking the silence, “I know the first time killing someone is hard, believe me, I don’t like it either, but you can’t beat yourself up about it. If you shoulder the guilt, it will eat you alive.” He wrapped his arm around Trevor comfortingly and smiled, “That’s why I try to shoulder their dreams instead. His wish was to be strong right? Then you have to be strong for him!”

Jayson brought herself from her own thoughts and ran outside to the aftermath. She cursed herself internally. It was her fault really. She didn't know the threat nor how close they were before giving the orders to attack and now from the looks of it there were a few injuries in consequence of her order. She ran over to Ai to help her carry the limp bdoies of Josei and Samuel inside. She didn't ask questions as right now it was treat wounds ask questions later. Almost on cue her mother ran in and helped bring them inside. All Jayson could hope for was no fatalities. Especially right now she wasn't very sure of how she'd react to such a tragedy.

They were her famiglia simply following orders. Her mother knew how she felt at the moment but chose the smart option as to not comment on it. Jayson finally turned to Ai once the two males were settled in and lying down. "Ai what are there conditions? Is there anything good on anyone? Did anyone...die?" she knew asking Ai som many questions at once may be a bit overwhelming but she didn't focus on that now. What was mor eimportant was the others who took more damage then she did. She'd worry about other unrelated events later on once she knew everything that was happening and what actually happened that she wasn't present for.

Ai's eyes looked between Jayson and two unconscious boys simultaneously before answering. "Both guardians, Josei and Samuel, are still alive, and within stable conditions. Josei sustained heavy injuries in combat that would have been otherwise fatal, had Samuel not come to intervene. Samuel, using his box weapon, healed Josei more quickly and more effectively than I had predicted, but had exhausted himself unconscious. Josei may awaken at any moment, with some discomfort, but because of his exhaustion of flames, and his normally sedimentary lifestyle, he's likely to sleep through the night. Samuel may need to rest as well, though his impulsive nature seems to effect him physically."

Ai looked around the room, examining the aftereffects of the attack. "I personally have made contact with three of the threats, and they have all shown threatening behavior. One of them engaged Josei in combat, which is how he received his injuries, but did not kill him."

"They have all been seen demonstrating the use of Deathperation Flames, but their shapes and properties do not match those of the known types of this time period. I have only been able to analyze the properties of one and observe another in combat. Also, they have been observed using technology nonexistent during this time. Drawing these points of data together, I have made the assumption that the attackers we encountered are not from this timeframe, and likely are from a possible future, but oddly, only one possible future, as somehow, multiple versions of the attackers have not been detected in this timeframe."

Kurahoshi was running as fast as possible. He was definitely fast, but he couldn't hold a candle to Donovan.
Kurahoshi caught up with Kurai after in a few minutes. He could tell from just how she was that something bothered her from her encounter with the Vongola 11th, but this was not the time to ask about it.
"Kurai, did phase one proceed well?" he asked.

"Mommy." Josei said outside his sleep as AI and Jayson talked. "No mommy, school is boring." HE tossed and turned before he slowly opened his eyes. "Wh-What the hell?" He was astounded by the change of scenery but, quickly found himself in the Vongola hall. He looked at all the wreckage and destruction of his families building and surrounding area. "Hey Josei, You okay? Kora!" Colonel walked up to him and asked. "Samuel saved you and Ai, walked you in here." Josei looked at him shaking his head a little. "I'm fine." He said in a low tone.

Josei looked at Samuel and Ai. Samuel looked asleep but, seemed to be physically okay. Speaking of physical, Josei had to check himself over for major injuries. 'Heh. Leave it to Sam to be able to get me out of a bind.' He thought as he looked back at Colonel. "Hey, can you do me a favor?" He asked.
"I don't know, kura. Depends on what type of favor it is. Kora!" Colonel answered.
"Take this." He said as he handed Colonel his box weapon. "Tell Talbolt to make me a box weapon that has a weapon in it more suitable for a lightning guardian, instead of a cloud guardian."
"Uh.... Okay. If that's what you want. Kora!"

Colonel left not long after that and Josei turned towards Jayson. "I'm sorry Jay, I'm not suitable to be your Thunder guardian." He said while bowing his head down to her. "So instead, I'm going to be the lightning guardian that fights off the evil that attacks you instead of being the shield that guards you. If you'll have me that is." He was content on not moving unless she spoke to him. His voice was stern but you could sense the sadness in it. Oh how he hoped that his old friend would accept him for his new self proclaimed title.

In reality, he wanted to prove his worth to the eleventh, feeling as though he had failed her in every way imaginable. He was almost on the verge of crying. Scratch that. There were actual drops of tears now hitting the floor as he spoke.

Shiro would make his ways to where the others were gathered, as he walked down the hall way the only things he could hear where gokudera words "you are the next storm Guardian so that means you are now the heart of all battles". he would stop at the door to the room where the others he listened to the others talk, shiro wasn't in the best mood but he was sure no one would be able to tell the difference. he walked in calmly after Josei said "I'm sorry Jay, I'm not suitable to be your cloud guardian." He said while bowing his head down to her. "So instead, I'm going to be the lightning guardian that fights off the evil that attacks you instead of being the shield that guards you. If you'll have me that is." in a clam voice he would say " it's very discouraging see the "lighting rod" of the family cry, you do realize that." he would lean against the wall nearest to everyone. "and if its any consolation we all didn't do well in that situation, so there is no need to cry. he would reach into his pocket and pulled out a wrapped piece of candy and would toss it over Josei, "here! now stop crying you big baby." he would hang his head a bit. at lest you fought the enemy, that's far more than I was able to carry out. he would clench his teeth and tighten his fist but next time, we will show them the resolve of the 11th Vongola Guardians. as he said this the storm flame would begin to pour from the ring on his right hand.

Samuel twitched and turned all around having a nightmare. He mumbled in his sleep " no... no... not... not... not ABSTRACT" he sat up absolutely terrified and panting. He really couldn't cope with abstract art. It took him a little bit to stop panting. As he did it all came back to him.
He jumped to his feet, his body was still aching all over, he turned his head all around. It seemed just about everyone was here. He remembered that the other family had left, and passing out after healing Josei.
He sat back down relaxing his stiff tired body. He had really enjoyed fighting with that guy, he was strong, but he was also disappointed in himself since he hadn't been very good at doing anything. Everyone else in the room seemed to feel the same way.
Samuel signed.

Jayson walked up to Josei and hugged him. "Theres no need to cry. It was my fault. I gave the orders without knowing the cosequences. On top of that you all are a lot braver than I am. I only fought Kurai a little bit before other things got in the way." she turned her gaze back to Josei. "Look I think you'll make a great guardian either way." she stepped away from him and looked at everyone. "I'm the one who is sorry. I failed all of you as the Vongola 11th." she bowed and had her hair cover her face. It was true she felt the most at fault. She gave the orders and wasn't able to have their back in battle so when they got injured or worse almost died she was the one to blame and Jayson was willing to shoulder the blame and work on her faults. Her thoughts were suddenly interuptted by her mother's voice.

"Now, now everyone you all exhausted much energy now it's time to gain some of it back. I've made dinner and it's set to eat in the dining room." Jayson didn't hold any emotion visable momentarily on her face but she turned to them and smiled, although it was fake she still did so. "You all go eat. I'll see you guys later on." She ignored her mother's disapproving look. RIght now she had other things to deal with than dining. First her random enemies are from the future and now the man whom she feels is the devil himself has been released from prison. She couldn't eat without having that on her mind. Her younger brother's didn't understand and just ran off to the dining room and a loud bang followed so her mother ran out after them as well. Jayson went off to a room set for her when she needed to 'work' and it actually resembled an office. She sat down on the leather swivel chair and went over to the computer beginning to search for information on the man released from prison that took her very innocence away.

Trevor awoke to an odd sensation, similar to vertigo, but not exactly. Without thinking twice, he sent out a thought to the C-Frame, asking it how much time had passed since he'd arrived, and how long he'd been asleep. The cube on his wrist responded instantly. It'd only been fifteen minutes, roughly. Mentally assessing himself, various words came to mind: Exhausted. Drained. Headache. Hungry. Frustrated. Annoyed. Despite all that, he seemed to exude a sense of complete—even eerie—tranquility, an expression of pure indifference stamped upon his face, arms crossed about his chest, demeanor lax and unexciting. Internally, however, different conflicting thoughts spun wildly about as he struggled for focus. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes, clearing his mind as best he could.

Ugh. Stupid cheater thunder guardian he pouted. Scenes of the previous battle entered his mind, though they stopped just short of its sordid conclusion. The mass-produced stock versions of the C-Frame shipped with quite a few supplementary components, from internal box weapons, melee armaments, extra shield generators, and various other goodies—including surge protections to guard against electrical overload. His frame had them all at one point as well, but with each addition came a trade-off: cost in fiamma volts—raw flame power. Even with his superior skill when compared to the other pilots of his time, Trevor was already pushing it by going into lower restrictions with his small body. Just the flame-powered melee armaments alone cut his maximum runtime down by a fifth, which was deemed unacceptable by the researchers at the Facility. It was for this reason that most "non-critical components" were stripped from his armor—melee weapons, external shielding, electrical surge protection, et cetera—though he did retain the overclocked artificial intelligence and a few extra internal box weapons, such as the custom made anti-flame cannon stored in the oral area of the C-Frame's helmet.

But now he needed that surge protection component back if he was going to deal with the thunder users of this time. Such flame types were extremely rare in the future—even non-existent. Not only did the atmospheric modifications brought about by the World Engine make lightning hard to use, but it had very little efficacy against the alien enemy in battle. Their opposing frames were effectively immune. "Stupid past," he muttered, chewing on his lower lip. The cool shade of the tree was doing wonders for his headache.

Well, he couldn't just go back to the future and have a new component installed. Even if Kurai could send him back, it'd be extremely hard for him to come back again on his own. Hmm... I guess I could look into taking some parts from the Moscas of this time or something... He nodded to himself, adding that to his list of things he wanted to look into during his stay in this foreign time.

Before his mind could wander on to less agreeable topics, Trevor heard a sound, like a jet flying high overhead. It was distant at first, but grew steadily in intensity until he felt rather than heard the impact of something landing off to his side. BOOM! The ground shook with the force of the landing. Some leaves were rattled loose from the tree under which Trevor currently took refuge, floating down to land around his feet. He didn't even have to look at the visitor, so he didn't, maintaining his icy distant glare. He already knew who it was. After a moment, Donovan wordlessly took a seat next to him. Other than his own breath and the melodic chirping of birds somewhere in the distance, there was only silence. Though Trevor refused to give any indication of acknowledgement, Donovan's presence made him forget about his grinding migraine.

Things always seemed better when he was around. Trevor could never figure out why.

As with every conversation they had, it was Donovan who made the first move. "It’s not your fault you know." While his demeanor remained stoic, internally, Trevor balked at the older boy's words. "I know the first time killing someone is hard, believe me, I don't like it either, but you can't beat yourself up about it. If you shoulder the guilt, it will eat you alive." He frowned, looking down at his hands. He hadn't noticed that he'd been twiddling his thumbs. But... He opened his mouth to speak, but, after a moment, closed it again. This was his fault. He was supposed to be a hero! A savior of humanity, fighting the glorious fight against the alien scourge for the boon of all mankind.

With a naivete fathomable only to a twelve-year-old, Trevor believed that everyone was on the same side in the conflict against the aliens. Why would humans fight amongst themselves with such a great threat looming over the horizon? He felt now that he'd perverted the purpose of his existence in using his box weapon to... to...

To murder. His conscious would never let him forget it. But he had to be loyal to the Rizzo, to Kurai...

Trevor screwed his eyes shut, trying to reconcile this internal contradiction against all logic. He'd either be loyal to Kurai or be the hero he wanted to be—but not both. This zero-sum game was lose-lose. All of his thoughts were spinning together into one massive emotional deluge, dragging him deeper and deeper into its morose depressing depths, drowning him in its darkness.

In the next moment, Trevor was snapped back into reality. He blinked once, twice, somewhat disoriented. That's when he noticed what'd saved him. Donovan had wrapped his arm around his shoulder, a comforting gesture. For the first time since he landed, Trevor looked Donovan in the eye, and was met with a warm smile. "That’s why I try to shoulder their dreams instead." Trevor's eyes grew big, his ill thoughts temporarily banished by the contemplation of this new ideal. "His wish was to be strong right? Then you have to be strong for him!"

Several thoughts occurred to Trevor nearly simultaneously. You could see it in his eyes. However, it was short-lived, his expression returning to that of tranquil disinterest. As if just realizing that he was within Donovan's embrace, Trevor attempted to worm his way out of it. He wasn't strong enough to break Donovan's hold on his own, but the older boy had been around Trevor long enough to know when he wanted some space, and so loosened his grasp. Slipping out from under Donovan's arm, Trevor pushed himself to his feet, taking several steps out of the shade and into the sunlight. He was staring off into the distance again.

"I guess we're done with them?" It was more of a statement than a question. He wondered how many of the Vongola were able to survive. If they'd been dealt with, maybe the Rizzo could all go back home. Plus, he couldn't help but be a little interested in the battle's outcome. There was no way any member of his famiglia could have lost. Inconceivable. "We should probably go meet the others, right?"

Rosa set foot upon the grass in in front of the place where the Inheritance Ceremony was taking place. She knew that she was late, not that she cared, as her only real reason for coming was so that she could earn herself a Vongola Ring, an item of which he failed to earn. However, she never realized exactly how late she really was! The property had various signs of recent damage, including various holes in the walls! Rosa clicked her tongue in annoyance. How was she supposed to know some sort of attackers would arrive. But when she thought about it, it could simply have been caused by one of the other guardians, she wouldn't put it passed them. And it seemed they were still there.

Frowning, she decided she'd come back later. She never really liked grouping herself with those naive morons.

Jayson grumbled something incoherent as the sun rays began seeping though the curtains and hitting her face. Unfortunately that met it was time for school. It had been a few weeks ever since she had became the official Vongola 11th and the guariand and her became 11th generation. Though it should've been a happy occasion it didn't end that way but as of now she was over it. In an hour she had managed to be comepletely ready for school which was a record for her but seeing now as she was actually early for once she decided to take advantage of that. She had rushed out of the house yelling a greeting and a goodbye to her mother and brothers before heading out.

After getting away from the house she had begun walking at normal speed. Being the 11th generation boss was all new to her. Right now she needed a break from her mother to just think things through. If her sister, Katerina, was still alive Jayson wouldn't even be worrying about such things. Even so she was grateful for everything she had so far so she has never once complained about it and she wouldn't dare to. As for the guardians she wasn't very close to all of them only about two or three have known her for a bit but that's it. The there was Kurai whom Jayson still had yet to figure out what it was that stopped her from taking the shot to kill her. After all she had come there to fight and probably kill so what stopped her? The scars she caught a glimpse of didn't faze her she wasn't even bothered by it as Jayson considered her scars utterly hideous and refused to show them to others. Kurai had something else to her than what Jayson saw that day.

She sighed finally pushing those thoughts from her head and making it to school, for once early. She had stayed in front awaiting for school to officially start.

"996... 997... 998... 999... 1000! To the extreme!" said Samuel. He was holding himself up with one arm going up and down. His grandfather Ryohei was with. This was their morning training session as usual. They had started this after the Rizzo's had attacked them. Samuel had begged Ryohei to help him get stronger. So here they were.
They started every morning before morning with sparring, then 1000 push ups, 10 laps around town, 1000 sit ups, more sparring, then technique training, and finely 1000 lifts with the right arm and 1000 lifts with the left.
Just as the two were finishing the sun began rising spraying light over the town. "All right, I'm off to school to the extreme he yelled. He changed out of his training clothes into school cloths that he had brought with him (they train on the outskirts of town), shoved his training clothes in his bag and raced off to school.
He raced through the streets so fast that cyclists were falling off their bikes in surprise he yelled "Extreme!" as he stopped his feet and slid forward, he crashed into a street lamp pole by accident.
He rubbed his head getting up. He saw Jayson waiting for school to start. "HI!" he yelled to her running up to her. "The early prarie dog gets the pass!" he said getting the saying 'the early bird catches the worm' wrong as he did many things.

Shiro would place his hand on his head and cocks his head back and lets out a long depressing sigh, as the screen computer in front of shrio flashed with the words "No match found". Shiro had dedicated all of his free time since the attack on the family to find out who the "Rizzo" was. he would push himself away from the desk as the chair he was sitting in rolled he would say "there flames, their box weapons and even their name Rizzo all where dead ends". he would lean over in his chair and slam his hands down onto his knees, "how, how, how can people who are that strong just appear out of thin air there is not info on them even CEDEF can find anything on them and even more surprising reborn knew nothing of them" Shiro would stand up and walk over to his computer and closed it, as his last lead was a dead-end so there was nothing more he could do. he would walk out of his room and down stairs. his mother was in the kitchen cooking breakfast, as she heard him coming down stairs he called out to him " breakfast will be ready in a little while" he would look over at the table it was set for 3 people, he would call back "no that's OK I'm just going to get something on the way to school. his mother would poke her head out from the kitchen "why do you still go to school you graduated years ago I don't understand why you wanted the Vongola's to get you can into school"? as he walk towards the door he would say "the best place in the city to nap is on the roof of the school." as he reached for the door he couldn't help but feel bad about lying to his mom but he couldn't tell her he is only going on the off-chance that the Rizzo will attack, as he shut the door behind him he would pulled out his phone and scroll down to the contact named "her". he would begin to write her a text message it would read "if you want a chance to kill someone come to school." he hated having to be around her (Rosa) for longer then he had to but it couldn't be helped, not to mention he didn't trust her she acted far too much like her father and he was sure she was upset over the fact he was the storm guardian and not her. as he got closer to the school he would see Jayson and Samuel he would called out to them, he wanted to see if they learned anything new about the attackers " 11th, Samuel YO!"

Jayson had simply been awaiting the start to school when Samuel hitting a lamp pole distracted her from her thoughts. She was about to go up to him to see if he was okay when he ran up to her yelling agreeting. "Good morning Samuel." she replied to him and for a few moments there was silence up until Shiro had shown up. She was so used to being called by either Jayson or Jay that she barely reposnded to being called 11th. "Hey Shiro and you know you can call me Jayson or Jay right?" it wasn't an ordinary thing for her to be called anything except those two names but she had to expect it seeing as how others may end up referring to her as such. It also helped solidify the fact that she was no longer just Jayson or The daughter of Tsuna. She was part of the 11th generation Vongola and as of now even knowing for a while she'd be in this position it still seemed unreal to her.

She quickly pushed those thoughts away and focused on the present. As of now she wanted at least school to remain normal for her. It was one of the few things that have always pretty much remained the same for and that she was thankful for. What made it better was that she wouldn't be attending school with complete strangers and her classmates would be people she knew on some level. That, she was also grateful for.

"Oh my beloved Princess, where art thou?" The Knight in his shining armor would call through dark oak and cedar. He had come from far, far away, on his quest to save a princess, captured by a wicked witch, whom kidnapped her and hidden her in the Woods of Dark Magic. "Oh brave knight, be that you, who comes to rescue me?" A young woman's voice would call. "Oh my lovely lady, yes, I have come to rescue thy from this horrible nightmare! But yet, I cannot see in this wretched darkness." "Come hither, follow the sound of my voice!" The hopeful princess would call. The knight complied, blindly making his way through the dark of the forest. And then, he found her, tied by her wrists to a tree.

"Oh please, Sir Knight," the girl pleaded, "Remove of these bonds, so I can be free again." The Knight complied, unsheathing his shining silver sword, and with one single swoop, cut the rope from her wrists. "Come, my fair lady," the knight would say, "For we must leave before your captor returns." At that moment, the dark forest would be illuminated by the fire of a violet-flamed torch. Behind it's flames, a there was a grin and a hat and a god-awful laugh. "So, you thought you would make it out alive, him?" Somehow, the situation was rather funny to her, and she couldn't help but crackle menacingly. The Knight would stand defensively between the Princess and the Witch and pointed his sword at the latter. "You wretched person, thy shall be thee who dost not leave here living." "I'd say 'don't make make me laugh', but it's too late for that!" The witch taunted, "And now, I shall turn the two of you into a frog and snake respectively... Once I sew my hat back on." On cue, the hat fell off the witch's head and onto the ground.

Rosa groaned, and let the dolls drop on her bed as she picked up the tiny fabric hat off the ground and placed it on her bedside table, along with the witch doll it belonged to, and went across the room to grab her sewing kit.


With a couple more weaves, the pointy black hat with it's white ribbon around it, was sewn securely onto the witch's fabric head. She examined the doll a bit. It was a doll she made quite a long time ago, one of which she was constantly repairing and adding to parts to. It couldn't be used for assassination in any way, at it was simply used for roleplaying, something Rosa did a lot of to pass the time. Even though she actually had some sort of role in life, to be a Vongola Guardian, she found herself not doing much anyway. Being a Cloud Guardian meant she didn't have to deal with others most of the time, unless they got on their knees and begged.

Though, it seemed that on that day in specific, it would be somewhat different. Rosa's phone on her bedside table made a melodious jingle, indicating a text, something she rarely got, as she never really texted anybody. In fact, why she even had the texting plan she had, she had no idea. Nonetheless, she checked it anyway, seeing that the text was from "Mr. Cherry-Top", as he was on her contacts (every guardian had their own; Candy-Junkie, Creepy-Eyes, Extemely-Annoying, etc.) groaned as she forced herself not to delete it, out of curiosity, damn her human nature.

'if you want a chance to kill someone come to school' was what it read. Rosa glared at the text on the screen. 'Seriously?' Rosa though, 'That's what he takes me for? Some simple-minded idiot driven by a lust to kill? What an idiot!' Rosa dropped the phone in her bed and lay back on her bed and continued prodding her witch doll, looking for any other spots it may have been falling apart, needle in hand

Though, she couldn't help but think about that text. Who did he want her to kill, if anybody? They'd have to be strong, if the smartass redhead was asking for her help, something she could even enjoy. She remembered hearing about how back then, during that inheritance ceremony thing, that a rival mafia were the cause of the damage she'd seen there.

Rosa looked at the doll's face. It could easily be recognized by her human face as a human figure, and she could even feel life from it, and yet, it was but a fabric imitation, which she could manipulate any way she wished. She took the needle in her hand and pressed it up to the tin can-sized doll's face. It gave no reaction of fear when she did it. Rosa then allowed the needle to puncture it's cheek. It lacked reaction, and nothing leaked from it. She pushed the needle all the way through it's face, until it pierced through the other side and pricked her hand. She instantly reacted and pulled her hand away, and examined the puncture. A tiny trickle of blood leaked from it. This is why humans were different.

Humans panicked at the sight of sharp objects, and reacted when punctured, and bled red substances, until they became limp, and they could be manipulated just as easily as puppets, except they didn't retain their liveliness like the way dolls could. She had yet to meet a human that could.

However, that wasn't all true. There were a few humans that still lived, in her, and she couldn't get them to go away. The first few times she'd ever killed, it was terrible, but she was taught how to brush it off, which she got better at every time she killed another, to the point where she could assassinate an entire family and not feel a thing. She figured those that still lived in her would die along with somebody else at some point, but that had not happened yet. Perhaps if she fought somebody stronger, they'd go away, perhaps they'd be prouder. And it has been quite a long time since she'd taken the life of another.

"Goddamnit," Rosa grumbled as she felt herself get out of bed and pick up her phone. She then started making use of the unlimited texting plan and wrote; "dont let any1 get in my way" before getting ready to leave. Perhaps there would be a good reason why she went. Besides, a Princess always has to accept an invitation anyway.

It was a little past dawn when Alastor stepped outside of the coffee shop, avoiding a few small circular tables, each seated by two or three chattering tweens. Blehk. He held what looked to be a blueberry muffin in one hand, cavalierly and off to the side, as if he had no problem with letting it slip from his grasp at a moment's inconvenience. In the other hand, he held a tight grip on a pale-white styrofoam cup. Steam wafted from it in waves—a testament to the lava-like properties of its contents—particularly where the skin of his hand made contact with the cup itself. Upon closer inspection, one would notice a watery blue substance acting as a buffer between his hand and the steaming hot beverage. The styrofoam cup itself was adorned with a square dark-green logo and the words "Squarebucks Coffee" in white. Breakfast of champions.
d
Humming, Alastor skipped around the circular tables as if he were a Broadway dancer, deftly avoiding collisions with coffee lovers at each turn. In response, the various patrons of Squarebucks shot him dirty glares, but he couldn't care less. All these losers were dead back where he was from, anyway. He briefly pondered announcing that. "You're all dead in the future!" He decided against it as he reached the sidewalk though. He wasn't all that fond of pointing out the obvious.

That's when he remembered he had a blueberry muffin in his hand. With a smirk, he opened wide and took a particularly large bite... before suddenly voiding the contents of his mouth onto the sidewalk beside him. "Blehk! That's disgusting!" He complained to no one in particular, his tongue hanging from his mouth in a comical fashion. He spit a few more times, trying unsuccessfully to get rid of the taste. An older couple walking up the sidewalk in the opposite direction gave him a look. With his mouth still lolling, tongue out, eyes wide and fraught with displeasure, he stared right back. There was an unnerving sort of eccentricity within his expression. The look of a guy that is capable of anything. "What are you lookin' at?!" He spouted viciously, tossing the remainder of the muffin to the ground and stomping on it a few times for good measure. The couple averted their gaze, walking past him.

"How do you people eat this crap?" He asked as the two walked by. They didn't respond, ignoring him, so he turned and shouted at their backs. "Even the crappy future foods are a thousand times better than this! What are you doing with your lives?!" Satisfied, he turned and continued on his way, scraping the muffin bits from the bottom of his shoe with each step, humming again. That's when he remembered the steaming-hot cup of coffee in his other hand. They called it a "Mocha Frappuccino," which baffled Alastor to no end. What in the actual hell could this Moe-cha Frap-puk-keyno be? He blamed his incessant curiosity for forcing him into buying it. He just had to know what it was and why so many people around him were ordering it.

Don't ask where he got the money from. It's a somewhat long story involving three other people and a machete.

Earlier, when he had first grasped the styrofoam, he quickly discovered that it was hot. Very hot. So hot, in fact, that he had to use the cooling effect of his Comet flames to stop from dropping the cup in sheer surprise. Still buzzing along with the swagger of a man who is completely content with himself, Alastor turned the corner, taking a sip of the frothy beverage. Frowning slightly, he took another sip. And then another, smacking his lips like a professional wine taster. Towards the middle of the block sat a homeless man. Alastor stopped walking and just stared at him. "Not bad" he commented to the man, who raised an eyebrow in confusion.

"You talkin to me, kid?"

"Yes, I said 'not bad'." He held up the styrofoam cup in his hand. "Not bad at all. Nowhere near as good as the stuff in the future though. Not even close. You'll see." He looked somewhere off in the distance. "Or... maybe not. Who knows." He said, shrugging.

The homeless man gave him a blank stare, to which Alastor responded with a genuine smile before continuing his slow saunter. Shaking his head slightly, the homeless man eyed the kid's back as he rounded yet another corner. "Some odd people around here," he muttered under his breath.

Alastor dug in his pocket with his free hand, removing a piece of notebook paper. There seemed to be some sort of list written on its front side. Flipping the note over, he brought it closer to his face. On this new side, there was only one line: an address—something these humans of old used to identify distinct locations. It was so disgustingly primitive that he wanted to cry, but that wouldn't do in public, so instead he sighed heavily, hastily stuffing the piece of paper back in his pocket. How these people could stand to live such barbarous lives with their medieval technology was beyond him.

Fortunately, it wasn't long before he found his destination—though he did have to ask for directions on four separate occasions, which cost him some time, but he didn't really mind. It was early in the morning, and as long as he completed this little mission and returned in time to make it to this school they were supposedly going to attend, he'd be on schedule. It still didn't sit well with him, the prospect of "school". Things were much different in the future. These hairless primates and their travesty of an educational system... blehk. Then again it wasn't the prospect of schooling in and of itself that irked him. It was the fact that the Vongolas were still alive, and would be attending the same school. Stalking them on their own turf just seemed so... roundabout. Why not just wipe the entire school out. That way, there'd be zero chance of messing up, since everyone would be dead, Vongolas included. Perfection.

Eh. Whatever. Kurai's orders were absolute.

He was standing in front of a dilapidated auto-parts shop. A sign atop the rather large building read in big bold letters: K'S AUTO AND REPAIR. A smile appeared on Alastor's face. He'd finally arrived at the junk shop. Now he just needed to grab what he came for without too much commotion. If only things ever went that smoothly in real life.

Taking a quick look to his left and right, he concluded that he was alone on the street. People were still sleeping, or just waking up, getting ready for work or school or what not. Sucks to be them. Without further ado, Alastor walked up to the front entrance and tried to door's handle. Locked.

Of course.

He peeked in through a little square window atop the door, cupping his hands around his temples to get a better view. It was pitch black inside and he could see nothing. Grumbling, he took a few steps to his left and tried opening the large garage-door like entrance where cars were usually allowed in and out for repairs. Also locked.

Damn. Slightly annoying, but not unexpected.

Checking his surroundings one last time, Alastor slowly crept around the side of the building, eventually coming up to a door at the back of the complex, parallel to some shady service alley. Said door was of solid steel and completely featureless. No handles, no windows, nothing—save a keypad on the wall to the right. Raising an eyebrow, Alastor moved over to it, eyeing it from different angles. Baffling, that such primitive security devices were still in use. It being one hundred years in the past was no excuse. Alastor grabbed his chin. Then again, it does work to my favor!

With a yelp of glee, Alastor started pressing keys on the keypad. At first his keystrokes seemed random, but, after exactly twenty-three digits were entered, a blinking green light appeared above the pad, and the sound of the door's locking mechanism unhinging could be heard. "Nice," he muttered to himself, pushing the door open and closing it after him. He checked the inside of the door to make sure it had a handle. It did. He even tried it a few times, just to make sure he could use it to escape in a timely manner if necessary.

It was then that he turned to face the vast seemingly impenetrable blackness that occupied the room alongside him, his eyes slowly adjusting. A few dim strands of light leaked through the windows and glass garage door at the side of the building, a sign of the coming sun. Once his eyes completely adjusted to the darkness, Alastor was able to make out the faint adumbrations of various objects as he gave the room a once over. It was definitely an auto-parts shop, alright. Random tires; naked engines; cars suspended from the ceiling or on top of hydraulic lifts; tools, screws, and random bolts strewn across various tables; a lot of stuff. Car stuff.

However, Alastor wasn't here for this primitive tech.

Frowning, he surveyed the area once more. Everything about this time was just so... primitive. It was just the best word to describe it all. Primitive. "Primitive," he muttered very quietly to himself, a tinge of disgust evident in his voice. Blehk. It wasn't until his eyes adjusted a bit more and he was able to orient himself that he found what he was looking for. Two "doors," the exact same color as the wall, were over in the left corner, hidden behind the frame of a dismantled truck bed. He couldn't exactly see them per say, but, if memory served, he knew they'd be at that exact location. Alastor's soft disarming smile returned. In order to recognize that those gentle indents in the wall were actually doors—or even know where to look for them—you'd have to be intimately familiar with the layout of this building.

Luckily, he was. He'd read all about it, even explored it when he was allowed—though, in the future, it'd been heavily remodelled.

From his recollections of the place, he knew that the door on the left led downstairs, which is where he wanted to go; whereas, the door on the right lead up to this place's living quarters. The "secret" four bathroom three bedroom flat hidden atop the mechanic shop. The home was like a miniature mansion, and was loaded with enough tech to throw Bill Gates for a loop—or, so he'd been told. In the future, the "housing" piece had been dismantled, replaced by a command center.

But that's a different story. Right now, he was on a mission at the behest of Kurai.

As he bobbed and weaved through the mess of car parts to approach the wall where believed the hidden doors to have resided, Alastor briefly pondered taking the second door instead of the first and sneaking up on the unsuspecting people sleeping above. They wouldn't even know he was coming, and he'd be in complete control. I could even kill them. The thought of murdering these people in their sleep made Alastor grin, like a child unwrapping his first birthday present. Ultimately, he decided against it, as was usually the case with most of his... more "exotic" ideas. Nah, that'd probably mess up the timeline or something. Besides, too much mess for too little gain.

It was only because he was nodding in agreement with himself that he noticed a streak of neon green across the floor. He stopped mid-step, not moving a muscle. He'd caught the beam of green out of his peripheral vision, but he couldn't see it now. Tilting his head in various directions and angles, he eventually saw the flash of light again.

He recognized it. A motion detector. And he'd almost activated it.

Breathing a sigh of relief, he made a b-line for the nearest chopped car part lying on the ground. It was an engine that had been turned on its side. Someone was in the middle of tinkering with its internals. For Alastor, it represented an interruption in the motion detector's field of vision. Perfection. He'd also resumed scanning the room with his eyes, this time focused on the baseboards and upper walls, looking for any other security gadgets. He spotted a few, but they weren't any threat to him presently. They were pointed in other directions.

He'd gotten lucky. Sweet.

Finally reaching the doors, he began to feel his way along the surrounding wall until he came across a small playing card -sized indentation in the wall. He pressed on it twice in quick succession, causing the panel to raise, revealing yet another keypad. Typing quickly, Alastor entered a string of digits into this physical prompt as well, though the light blinked red instead of green—wrong code. He pursed his lips, entering the long string of digits once more, this time pressing harder on the keys. Again, it failed. "You piece of primitive garbage," he muttered, typing what he knew to be the key code a third time—though he pushed each button with a sage-like lack-of-speed, smashing each key with his index finger in what could only be described as a violent manner, obviously perplexed by the machine failing to accept the code.

This time, however, the light blinked green and the door slid open, accompanied by a loud click. Interestingly enough, it reminded Alastor of a shotgun round being chambered. What an odd noise—oh well. The secret door revealed an illuminated set of stairs, leading far down to yet another door with yet another keypad. This bulkhead door, however, unlike the previous ones, was reinforced. Extremely reinforced. Alastor remembered it from the future. It was fire-proof, and nothing short of a tactical nuke would get you past it. He took a casual sip of the coffee he still had in his hand, humming softly. The beverage had noticeably cooled, but it was still warm enough to be at least somewhat sating.

He wasn't sweating his predicament, for he had the code for this master door memorized as well. Perfection. He took a step—

"Take that step, kid, and you're dead." Came a cold voice from behind him. Instantly, Alastor put his hands up—or one hand, as he held the cup of coffee tight in the other—a universal sign of surrender. Though he knew this particular meeting was only a possibility, he was secretly hoping for this the entire time. Looks like I get to play.

"Hello," he started, turning slowly to face his aggressor, whom tensed ever so slightly at the kid's bold actions. "My name is Al. Alastor. Alastor L., but my friends call me Al." He now fully faced the man who was threatening him with a... hmm. Seemed to be some sort of old-world shotgun—well, "current" shotgun by this time's standards. Or, at least it looked like a shotgun. When dealing with people like this guy, Alastor knew that nothing was ever as first meets the eye. "You must be..." Alastor grinned, recognition dawning on his face, even though he could not see the man shrouded in shadow. "Well, I think I know who you are, old man. It's truly an honor to meet you. I've read so much. Big fan and all that. How are you doing this fine morning?"

The man with the gun did not respond, and was far enough away from Alastor that his face was effectively hidden in the pulpy twilight of the place. The silence in the room was deafening.

"Um... so I'll take it you're doing just fine then, sir?" He nodded slightly, oozing charm, eyebrows raised, face locked in a decidedly friendly countenance. "That's good." He somehow managed not to sound awkward, given the situation. If there wasn't a shotgun being aimed at someone's chest, the conversation might've passed as that of a reunion between friends.

Before Alastor could continue, the man spoke. "Listen, punk. I don't have patience for petty thieves." His voice was rough, his tone crass. He was a man who did not tolerate nonsense. "The only reason I haven't blown you half-way to kingdom come is because of what you just did there." He used the shotgun to motion towards the keypad on the wall. "How do you know that code? Who are you, boy? Make it quick."

Alastor's facade of the "polite and happy-go-lucky kid lost in a cruel cruel world" cracked slightly, a menacing smirk besmirching his otherwise innocent face. Without regard for his own life, he put his hand down and into his pocket, breaking the "I surrender" pose. He followed that by bringing the coffee cup to his lips and taking a long loud sip instead of responding to the question, keeping his eyes on the man in front of him. To his credit, said man didn't even flinch at Alastor's abrupt actions. He was obviously used to dealing with dangerous and/or rude people.

After another moment of silence, Alastor deigned to speak. "Petty?" He sounded offended. "Petty?! I've had some recurring... difficulties with the law, but nothing about me is petty, grampa." He drawled on "grampa," attempting to be snide. It was as if he didn't care that a gun was pointed at his chest. Grunting, he taking another sip of his coffee before continuing. "'Who am I,' though. Good question." He leaned against the door jam, demeanor completely cavalier—again, as if his life was in no possible danger. "You couldn't possibly recognize me, but I know all about you, Lorenzo."

For the first time, the man—Lorenzo—visibly reacted to something Alastor said. He lowered his gun ever-so slightly, his next words underlined with a mix of animus and curiosity. "What did you just say?"

Realizing that his words had had the intended effect, Alastor quickly pivoted on his heel, turning his back to Lorenzo, and quickly descended the stairs, giggling maniacally the whole way. Lorenzo followed him, moving to the top of the staircase and staring down at this intruder, gun still at bear, aiming at the Alastor's back. "Are you insane you little twerp? You've got three seconds to—"

Lorenzo was interrupted by the sound of his bulkhead door opening. The one that protected his work, his secret life. Not even his own son, who worked for the Vongolas, knew of what was down there—knew of Lorenzo's true occupation, or his infamy as a major player in the mafia underworld. No one... no one knew this stuff... his passwords, the layout of his garage. He'd never told a soul any of this information... so how does this little brat know so much about my operation?!

Downstairs, Alastor walked through the new opening and reached to the side for a light switch he already knew would be there. Even a hundred years later, this part of the warehouse hadn't changed. Throwing the switch, the whirl of aging electronics spinning to life could be heard somewhere in the background. After a moment, lights began flickering on, illuminating section by section the contents of a voluminous underground facility that stretched back into the distance. He knew exactly how large this place was: 583 acres or 2.36 square meters of underground land area in the shape of an octagon, though, currently, it was only 4.5 meters from ground to ceiling. In several decades, that would be changed as six extra layers are shoehorned in below this one.

He couldn't stop himself from gasping audibly. It's not everyday that you get to see what a place looks like before it becomes something famous... or infamous, depending on your perspective. The gray and white room was decked from head to toe with... machines. More specifically, Moscas. All sorts of Moscas, even some prototypes that hadn't even been discovered by the public yet. Taking a few steps forward, he spotted what were obviously illegal flame weapons. There were desks with box weapons that'd been disassembled, different odd looking gadgets, shiny buttons, glowing computer screens....

As Lorenzo entered his laboratory, gun still drawn, Alastor turned to greet him. "Wow, they weren't kidding when they said you were a genius engineer," he said, admiration in his eyes. Beaming at Lorenzo, the kid raised his cup of coffee up to his mouth, as if to take a sip, but didn't, electing instead to speak, the cup obstructing view of his lower face. "Super cool. Hey, how's the business?"

Lorenzo was effectively non-plussed. He wasn't sure how to react to this kid who knew everything about his life. Was he some sort of relation? A spy? Should he be killed? Questioned? Welcomed? Despite everything, this kid seemed somehow familiar to him, as if he... well, as if he knew him. It was for this reason that he lowered his gun and answered, curiosity temporarily overruling his gut instincts. "Shit." He said flatly and without hesitation, commenting on the state of his business before redirecting. "How's the coffee?" He nodded to the Squarebucks cup.

"Shit." Alastor said in almost the exact same monotone and with similar inflection—though if he realized it or not, Lorenzo did not know.

"So, who are you, kid? How do you know about me? My codes? My..." Lorenzo motioned to the room at large. "Things."

For a few moments, Alastor only stared, a blank expression upon his face, before suddenly reaching into his pocket, prompting the older male to aim his gun at the boy once more. After some digging, Alastor slowly removed a piece of paper from his pocket. "Calm down, grampa. I'm not a hitman..." He rolled his eyes, thinking that over. "Okay, well, I'm not after you or anyone you are yet familiar with. I'm just here to make a purchase from the legendary illegal arms trafficker."

Another possibility popped into Lorenzo's head. "Now, you wouldn't happen to be some son of mine I don't know about... right?"

Alastor laughed at that. It was a warm hearty laugh. Disarming. "Something like that." That earned a raised eyebrow. "Hey, so," Alastor started, his voice becoming an octave or two higher. "You wouldn't happen to have a—" he squinted at the note in his hand, attempting to read from it "—uhh... six-cell active voltage conditioner with a... uh, quad-fuse parallel-circuit xenon discharge arrestor?" Alastor brought the paper even closer to his face, squinting harder. "Damn this little kid writes small... uh—he also says something about it not being the ones that uses MOVs, but the experimental ones with the absurdly high cl... cl...."

"Clamping voltage?" Lorenzo finished for him, snatching the paper from Alastor's hands. Surprised that the man was able to get so close to him without his noticing, Alastor hopped back once, a deep frown on his face.

"Hey, give that back, old man!" But before Alastor could react, Lorenzo held up his index finger.

"The fact that you or whoever the hell wrote this," Lorenzo started, waving the paper in Alastor's face, "knows about my AHCV tech—something I just finished not several hours ago. That, combined with the fact that you're obviously nearsighted, a handicap that is arguably hereditary in nature..." He tapped the glasses on his face in a suggestive manner. "Don't tell me you're my son from some sort of dystopic alternate universe something."

On the surface, Alastor didn't respond, though he did seem to be flustered by the mention of "nearsightedness". He was perfect! Or so he believed. And perfection does not require modification. That included eyesight. You'd never catch me wearing one of those primitive glass holders around my face unless I was dead and stuffed. Internally, however, he was laughing. Alternate universe... the man wasn't all right, but he was close. After several seconds of complete silence, Lorenzo feigned a loss of interest, stuffing the note in his pocket and moving off to a deeper section of his lab, the shotgun still in his hands. Several minutes later, he came back holding a medium-sized metal box under his free arm, the shotgun swinging at his side.

"Alright kid, I don't know how you knew I made it, but I did, and here it is." Lorenzo nodded down to the box under his arm. "It's quite heavy," he sighed. Alastor held out his hands in an attempt to grab it, but Lorenzo aimed his shotgun point blank in his face. "Not so fast, kid." All the humor left his voice, replaced by something cold and bitter. "I'm curious as to why some punk kid wants a Mosca upgrade part like this. You know it's not a weapon, right? More like a..." He made a circling motion with his free hand, trying to think of a better descriptive phrase but failing. "... surge protector. Are you planning on catching a lightning storm or something?" Lorenzo paused and Alastor started to speak, but the man interrupted him, continuing his soliloquy. He'd paused on purpose. "Before we get to the more interesting answers, first things first: how are you paying me for this? It ain't cheap, and lunch money won't cover it."

A look of genuine surprise came over Alastor's face. "Huh?! No way you charge me!" He looked off to the side, as if he were pondering something. "What if... I told you I was family?"

"I'd tell you to get more specific." He pressed the shotgun barrel into Alastor's cheek. "This weapon is a special invention of mine, boy. Based on that new Mossberg 750AX. Each round is infused with my own Rain flames, each one embodying the Tranquility attribute. It's a new technology of mine." Lorenzo smirked. "Your internal organs will cease to function before what remains of the top half of your body hits the floor."

Alastor smirked back. "You won't do anything to me, gramps." He said it matter-of-factly.
"Shut your child mouth. If you don't have any money, then get the hell out, and be glad I'm letting you leave with your life. Very glad. I should kill you now for what you know."
"Would you believe me if I said I was your son?" He said in the highest-pitched most innocent voice he could muster.

In response, Lorenzo aimed his shotgun at Alastor's feet and pulled the trigger, though he adjusted his aim at the last second, birdshot striking the ground several centimeters from the boy's legs and feet. Although Alastor flinched slightly, his arrogant facial expression did not falter. Lorenzo brought the shotgun back up to bear. "My son is upstairs, asleep, and you're running out of wrong answers."

And in that instance, the facade shattered, the masquerade ceased, and the true creature behind the mask revealed itself. Alastor's facial expression became lax, his eyes drooping, head slightly bowed. An ominous sneer was plastered on his face. "Shit, gramps, so ruthless." His voice was much deeper than before. Much more raw and unrefined. You could sense an energy there, a type of anger—a rage, an eccentricity that gave a glimpse into the true nature of this creature claiming the shape of a sixteen year old kid.

He sounded like a demon.

"Just like the books said. You'd even kill a kid if he got in your way. I respect that. Admire, even."

In response, Lorenzo flipped his grip on the shotgun so that he was grasping the pump handle and, with a single downward motion, chambered another round, returning the barrel to its prior position.

"Okay okay," Alastor began, raising both hands, including the one with the coffee cup, above his head. "You win." However, before he finished his sentence, he'd dropped the cup from his hand. The falling object caught Lorenzo's eye for but a moment.

That was all the time Alastor needed.

His hands flashed out and he gripped the business end of the shotgun; however, Lorenzo was no fool and immediately fired his weapon... but no round exited the barrel. In fact, ice began to appear on the outer edges of the metal as the area around the two become noticeably colder, their smoky translucent exhalations visible in an otherwise warm room. The metal of the gun itself became as cold as ice within the span of a couple of seconds, prompting Lorenz to drop the gun entirely. The advanced weapon snapped in half when it hit the ground. It was completely covered in ice.

"What the f—" But before Lorenzo could finish his exclamation, Alaster threw a punch. No stranger to close-quarter combat, the man countered by snatching the boy's wrist and twisting, going for a joint break and leveraging his rain flame's Tranquility attribute; however, with a surprised shout, the man recoiled immediately after a few moments of contact with the boy's skin, falling backwards over a desk to land unceremoniously on the floor. Slightly dazed, he caught sight of his own hand—the one he'd grabbed the kid with. Lorenzo only saw blue. He couldn't feel his fingers. Could barely move them. What manner of flame attribute is this?!

"Hey! Old man!"

Lorenzo looked up. The kid was in the doorway, holding his box. The AHCV APC—lightning tamer, he'd nicknamed it. He must've accidentally dropped it when he took that tumble. "Wait you little shit!" He shouted viciously, attempting to get to his feet despite the sensation of vertigo.

Alastor only smiled. It was a warm, genuine, disarming smile—one Lorenzo now considered extremely out of character for this little monster. "Thanks for the gift, great grampa Koenig." The boy gave a little mock salute. "I'll be sure it is put to good use."

"I said wait!"

But it was too late. By the time Lorenzo Koenig, infamous black market arms dealer, one of the fathers of Box Weapon technology along with Verde and Innocenti, and frenemy to every famiglia had made it to his feet to snatch up a nearby weapon, the exuberant youth was nowhere to be found.

Jayson ran throughout the halls. She should have been sitting in class paying attention to what was being said by the teacher but instead here she was chasing after her nine-year-old twin brothers who decided to cause her trouble even here. First they snuck into the girl's bathroom, which is where she caught them, and then they ran into the gym interrupting a gamd of dodge ball and making her chase them through there. The school she and the others attended was a k-12 school so her brothers attended a lower grade than her in the same school. Though they were only nine they were smart enough to skip fourth and fifth grade go straih to sixth grade. Jayson was proud of them but at times like these she disliked how smart they were simply because how much trouble they caused.

Jayson continously chased them until they stopped near a dead-end. "Daniel, Luka! Why are you guys here and not in class." the two boys laughed at their panting older sister before shrugging. "We were bored." they answered her in unison still having a grin adorning their young features. With an idea coming to her it was Jayson's turn to smile. "Oh really? Well we'll see how bored you are when I tell mama what you two have been up to." just like with her the mention of the gypsy woman brought fear to the two boys. Suddenly they were latched onto to her waist squeezing her as if for mercy. "Jay please don't tell mama. we won't do it again we promise!" only the last part was said in unison but she understood them nonetheless. "Alright, Alright I won't tell her now get back to class before we all get in trouble." they let go of her after that and ran off to class.

Jayson looked back at the two boys and smiled before heading to her own class fifteen minutes late. "Sorry I'm late. I had a little problem I had to take care of." she ignored the look the teacher had given her and sat down in the back like usual. Today was just a normal day for the young boss. For right now she wouldn't have it any other way. SHe needed some normalcy lately and if school was where she could get it then so be it.

The night before, the school's printers started printing themselves. It seemed they were going haywire, as they printed long documents of what could only be described as spam. That morning, the printed documents were thrown in the recycle, but the recycling bins had not been taken out yet, so the long code of BASE64 remained unread, for the most part. However, Ai found it. She knew what it meant, and she wasn't too happy that somehow, ordinary printers picked that code up. She wanted all that to be kept a secret. Though, thankfully, it was all in the recycle, so nobody else would pick through it, likely. She simply sat in her desk and let school start, putting the paper at the corner of her desk. She noticed Jayson wasn't in class yet, and worried a bit, but she sensed that she was fine. Ai had bigger things to worry about, like being responsible for a backup.

The BASE64 code read as follows;

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

Samuel sat in class completely unable to answer the math questions that were in front of him. He looked around class hoping for some help, but the only person that was in the same grade as him was Rosa, but she rarely ever came to school. Too bad she was a genius she would definitely have been helpful to Samuel.
Samuel raised his hand "Miss! I don't understand the question!" he said "Samuel, I'm sorry, but I have already explained that question to you five times. Please try a little more or move on to the next question.
Samuel read the next question then raised his hand "Miss!" "Yes, Samuel?" she asked
"I don't get the question," he said
The teacher just turned away blankly and discouraged.

OOC: Yes, I am the god of long introductory posts. Fear me!

Fredrick Dill Koenig stared at himself in the bathroom mirror as he brushed his teeth. It'd be his first day back in school this entire week—he'd been out sick with a particularly bad cold. It was for this reason that he had to skip the ring ceremony as well. He still felt pretty bad about that, especially after hearing about the surprise attack by the unknown flame types, but his dad had insisted he stay home. His famiglia got caught up in a fight for their lives and he wasn't around to help. He paused his fervent brushing to sigh. I probably wouldn't have been of much help anyway. Plus, he didn't even have a Vongola ring yet.

"Fred!" Came a voice from Fredrick's left, a small high-pitched soprano.

For his part, Fredrick pretty much jumped out of his skin, dropping his toothbrush into the sink and nearly choking on the frothy toothpaste in his mouth. After a few coughs and some water, Fredrick turned to face the speaker on his left. He knew who it was before he even turned his head. "Serlina! You know I hate it when you sneak up on me like that. I almost died!" He griped, pointing at the sink. Serlina, one of Fredrick's box weapons, was a petite blue pixie—like a Tinkerbell, except with a stunning personality, and dominion over Rain flames. Oh, and if you called her "tinkerbell," she'd probably hurt you.

Why and how was she outside of her box without being explicitly summoned? Again, she has a personality of her own, and she can leave her box at will. Conveniently for her, said box was implanted in Fredrick's left arm. Such an implant was the first of its kind in recorded history, though his father told him that they were planning on expanding the technology in the future. "One day, we'll be able to implant flame rings themselves into their users," his father had told him some time ago. "Imagine the possibilities!" But Fredrick doubted the technology would ever get that far. The rings themselves, implanted inside of people? That's just creepy. How would they be handed down and stuff?

"You know," he continued, "sometimes I think—"
"Fred," she interrupted, her translucent wings buzzing as she zipped around impatiently. She only did this when she had something pressing on her mind.
"What happened?" He asked, worry entering his voice.
"I heard one of the motion detectors go off! Are you deaf? Something is going on downstairs, and your father is going to check it out!" There was definitely an urgency to her tone, but not without an underlying implication: she wanted him to go downstairs with his father.

Fredrick's eyes grew wide. "No way," he said flatly. "It's probably car thieves again. Dad can handle it. I'll just stay up here out of the way..."

"Oh, Fred. You've got to help!"
"I really don't think—"
"What if he needs you?!"
"But I don't—"
"You're gonna be a Vongola guardian, Fred. You can't be afraid of these little things anymore."

Fredrick shook his head. "But Serlina, I'll just get in the way. It'd be much safer for us all up here." He flashed her a sheepish grin, but she wasn't buying it. She just glared at him, her wings flickering angrily behind her. Fredrick couldn't take it and eventually gave in.

"Oh... fine," he finally agreed. "But when I get beaten up and murdered, it'll be all your fault," he mocked, wiping his mouth on a nearby towel and grasping at the door handle. He took a deep breath, trying to summon the courage he needed to proceed. Serlina was right. As a Vongola guardian, he'd be facing much worse threats than petty car thieves. He'd be facing hitmen, mobsters... maybe even those weird guys that attacked the ring ceremony. He had to be ready to pacify them.

Maybe this counts as some sort of roundabout training? He could brag about it to Samuel.

Feeling sufficiently enthused, he opened the bathroom door ever so slightly, trying to sneak a peek out into the hall. Serlina was having none of that, however, and rammed her little pixie shoulder into Fredrick's back with as much force as she could muster, causing him to stumble through the door. He almost tripped over his own feet.

"Hey!" He hissed, looking back over his shoulder at his pixie box weapon; however, Serlina was not looking at him, she was pointing. Following her gaze, Fredrick's eyes landed on the secondary door. They called it the "sally port". It was the secret exit his father often used to surreptitiously enter the auto shop from behind. If there was a thief or thieves down there, he'd be able to sneak up on them without much effort.

"See, he's handling everything," he whispered, keeping his voice low, as if he were in danger of being overheard. "Let's just go back."
"No! Downstairs!" She insisted, tugging on his sleeve, trying to pull him towards the front door. "Use the main door."
"Okay okay, I'm going." He sighed, pressing twice on a small card-sized area of the wall next to the door. A backlit keypad revealed itself. After tying a string of digits, a light above the input device blinked green and the door in front of him opened, revealing a tenebrous scarcely lit stairwell that lead straight down to the auto parts shop. Fredrick stared at them, gulping audibly, paralyzed by fear.

"March." Selina commanded.
"But—!"
Her voice grew several shades softer. "Go check it out. You can do it."

With another gulp, Fredrick slowly tiptoed his way down the stairs until he reached the door that directly sequestered the staircase and the shop floor. From the outside, the door would appear as a barely noticeable dent in the wall. It was even painted the same color as its surroundings, further masking its presence. A thief wouldn't even notice its existence.

Or so he told himself.

Carefully, he pulled on the door handle, gently pushing the featureless hunt of metal forward. He was trying to be as quiet as possible, but the door squeaked loudly in protest of every inch. Fredrick winced, wishing now that he'd oiled the thing like his father had asked. I gave myself away! I gave myself away! But as he let the door swing the rest of the way open, he was presented with not a gaggle of robbers aiming their weapons at him, but the dark empty expanse of the auto shop floor room. The only other sound he could hear was the buzzing of Serlina's wings.

"See," he said, confidence suddenly underpinning his tone, "nothing here." He turned again to look at her. "Can we go back up now?"
She shook her head, pointing again.

When he saw what she was pointing to this time, he instantly felt nauseous. "Um... you want me to go into dad's lab? Are you crazy?" He'd never been allowed in there. Ever. The fact that the door was open wasn't a good sign though. He'd never once seen it just standing open in real life. What if the robbers are in there? What if they forced dad to open the door? Threatening him at gunpoint. Fredrick clenched his fists. Maybe Serlina was right. Maybe he did need help!

Serlina recognized the newfound determination in Fredrick's eyes and smiled. "Atta boy!" She whispered enthusiastically. "We can do it!"

He was able to round the corner and take a few steps down the stairs towards his father's lab before he heard something that made him freeze instantly, a chill running up his spine. The sound was unmistakable. He'd heard it a thousand times before.

It was his father's shotgun. A round had just been chambered, the echo travelling up the staircase to his ears.

Frozen in place, Fredrick strained his ears, trying to get an idea of what was going on down there. The very last thing he wanted to hear was a gunshot. He pondered rushing in, but doubted his father would appreciate his presence down there. The place was strictly off limits for him. In fact, this was probably the closest he'd ever gotten to the lab in his life.

Muffled voices interrupted his train of thought.

"You win," came an unfamiliar voice. Fredrick blinked twice, confused, before his worst fears were confirmed. A shotgun blast rang out, followed the sounds of a struggle. Someone fell over, probably riddled with bullet holes. Dad! Though before he could speed down the stairs, someone else was already there, standing at the landing. It was some stranger, his back to Fredrick. Once again he froze, but this time for only a moment. Slowly, he started creeping backwards up the staircase, hoping not to catch the guy's attention.

"Thanks for the gift, great grampa Koenig." He heard the stranger say. "I'll be sure it is put to good use."

Fredrick was only a few steps away from the doorway, but it was too late. As the stranger turned and looked upwards, they locked eyes. Even though the stairwell wasn't well lit, Fredrick could still make out some features of the guy's face. For a fraction of a second, the stranger wore a confused expression, but that confusion melted away, replaced by something that was all too familiar. It was the "target locked" look. He used to get it from bullies all the time.

Panicking, Fredrick began backpedalling up the remaining stairs, nearly falling over himself. At the same time, the stranger had begun ascending the stairs at an extremely rapid pace, taking two and three at a time. Even worse, some sort of knife materialized in the stranger's hand, its blade edge surrounded by a dusty light-blue aura. Eerily, it reminded him of the Rain flame, except...

"Woah woah woah woah!" He stuttered, crossing his hands over his chest and then separating them multiple times, still backpedaling. This guy was obviously the intruder. He definitely didn't want to fight him.

"RUN!" Serlina commanded, gathering rain flames into her hands in preparation for a defense, but it was too late. Though Fredrick managed to make it up past the top of the stairs and was now out on the shadowy floor of the auto shop, the intruder had already closed the distance. He was within arm's reach now.

"Crap!"

Without warning, the intruder made a vertical swipe at him with his blade. Fredrick may have been scared, but he was far from helpless. The moment he saw the blade coming at him, it was like something else took over. The sounds around him seemed to dampen as if he were wearing earmuffs, his vision tunneling, focusing on the weapon in the intruder's hand. His thoughts dispersed as he took on a sense of complete mental clarity and acuity.

He dodged the swipe easily, angling his upper body sharply to the left, twisting at the waist so that his shoulder and arm were out of harm's way. He felt a cooling sensation as the weapon passed by the side of his face and torso.

The intruder was not impressed. Without pause, he pressed forward, this time making a wide, lateral swipe. Fredrick moved just as quickly, bowing forward at the waist and avoiding the attack yet again. He could hear the woosh of the blade parting the air just as much as he could feel the biting chill of the weapon as it passed over the back of his head. It was surprisingly cold, as if he'd just been blasted by snow. Swinging his upper body backwards, he used his momentum to dodge yet another strike, this one diagonal across the chest, but the intruder did something unexpected. He followed up with an attack from a different blade in his other hand, this one longer and with a wider edge, like a machete. Fredrick hopped back with as much force as he could, but the intruder moved forward with him, attempting to keep the distance between them, making a lateral swipe at Fredrick's abdomen.

He could feel a burning sensation, like frostbite, around his bellybutton. Concentration broken, he tripped over his own feet and fell backwards onto some equipment, looking down at his stomach. The shirt was ripped and ice had formed around the frayed edges, but his skin had not been broken. He'd successfully dodged the surprise attack.

Their entire exchange took place over the course of maybe two or so seconds.

Fredrick looked up at the intruder. That confused nonplussed expression had returned, as if Fredrick outmaneuvering him was completely and utterly unexpected. The intruder squinted then, as if he couldn't see where Fredrick was. That's when he realized that it was still reasonably dark. The sun had yet to fully rise. The auto parts shop was shrouded in deep shadow. Quickly, Fredrick used his hands to scurry backwards, hoping to further mask his presence within the darkness, but the intruder had other ideas. As if on reflex, he quickly launched the smaller of his blades at where he suspected Fredrick to be. It was a perfect throw, and there was no way Fredrick could dodge it, not while he was on his butt.

Fredrick looked to the side, screwing his eyes shut in the hopes that that would offer him some sort of protection. After several seconds of not feeling like he'd been run through with a dagger, he slowly opened his eyes.

The weapon was floating in the air not one inch from his nose. Serlina had thrown up a wall of Rain flames to block the attack, and the held the dagger suspended within them. After a few moments she dropped the barrier, the dagger falling to his lap. Strangely, it was missing its blade edge. It was just a handle. Fredrick picked it up, eyeing it with great curiosity. What is this thing? Where'd the edge go? His head snapped up then, suddenly remembering that there was an enemy in the vicinity.

He looked left. He looked right. He saw nothing but darkness.

"Serlina," he muttered, but she already knew the question.
"He's gone. Left out the back door."

With a sigh, Fredrick got to his feet. "Did you know who that was?"
"Too dark to fully make out his face. You?"
"Same. But his weapons..."

Fredrick touched the spot on his shirt where the luminous machete had almost eviscerated him. It was extremely cold.

"I felt it," Serlina blurted out.
"What?"
"I felt it, when I blocked his dagger. His flame. It was... weird."
"Weird? Like how?" He felt like he was asking a question whose answer he already knew.
"Yeah, like Jayon's dad's old Zero Point Breakthrough, but... different somehow. Even with the Tranquility attribute of the Rain, it felt like it was damaging my barrier."

Fredrick frowned, trying to wrap his head around what that meant, when he heard a door slam shut. Looking up, he saw his father with some sort of assault weapon in his hands. The man did a double take when he spotted his son on the ground, a horrified look overwhelming his facial features. He sped over to kneel at Fredrick's side, dropping his weapon and placing his hand where the boy's shirt had been cut. He was checking for blood. His expression softened when he found none.

"Fredrick, are you okay?" He asked calmly, voice even and tempered. He was obviously still irate, but he tried not to let it show.
"Yeah," Fredrick said, smiling. So his father had not been shot afterall. "You?"
"Yeah, I'm good. Just a bit of trouble with some street punk, is all. Why were you down here? Aren't you supposed to be getting ready for school?"

Fredrick broke eye contact, looking away and scratching at his cheek with his index finger. "Um... well, I thought you might be in trouble or something and could use some backup and stuff and the alarm was going off and the door was open to your lab plus I'm the Vongola guardian and Serlina said I—"

His father sighed, the beginnings of a grin pulling at his lips. "I see." He stood, hoisting Fredrick up with him. Serlina had returned to her box. "You should probably get ready." The man nodded to the door. "I'll call this in."

"Wait. Who was that guy? Did you know him?!"
His father shook his head. "Never seen him before, but he has some weird power. A flame type I've never encountered."
Fredrick narrowed his eyes, remembering the faintly-glowing blade the intruder had thrown at him. He still had the handle. "He tried to attack me, ya know. He accidentally left one of his weapons, too."

His father looked shocked. "Really? A weapon? Do you have it?"
Fredrick nodded, producing the handle and presenting it to his father, whom took it up in his hands, examining it at odd angles. "Intersting. I'll study this, thanks. You sure you're okay?"
Glad that he was of at least some assistance, Fredrick beamed. "Yep! I guess I'll go get ready. Don't wanna be late." With a nod, he turned towards the door that lead back up to their home.

"Oh, and Fred."
Fredrick looked back over his shoulder. "Yah?"
"Things might change later, but for now," he looked his son in the eye, "under no circumstances should you enter my lab. Okay?"
"O-kay," he said sheepishly.



As he walked through the halls to his classroom, thoughts of the attacker and his unknown flame kept coming back to him. He felt like there was a connection between the intruder and the attack on the ring ceremony, but his friends never said anything about an enemy with a freezing flame. Was it just random coincidence? What exactly did the guy steal, anyway? He forgot to ask. And handles with no blades? What was that all about?

With a sigh, he entered the classroom. He'd arrived early like usual, in between the previous occupants of the class leaving and the next class entering, so the room was pretty much empty, save a few stragglers. Taking his seat off in the back, he put his head down, trying to figure out what exactly transpired this morning. What was in his father's lab that someone would want to steal? Again, he forgot to ask, so he could only imagine. Dang.

As his classmates began to filter in, he heard Samuels voice. He came into the room talking with someone else and didn't seem to notice him. It was understandable, as Fredrick was a pretty unnoticeable guy. Class started when the teacher walked in, and everyone took their seats. With a sigh, Fredrick put his chin in his hands, resting his elbows on his desk. Several minutes into the class, Samuel raised his hand. "Miss! I don't understand the question!" Fredrick grinned, expecting that. When it happened again, Fredrick raised his hand, the smile still fresh upon his face.

"Yes, Fredrick?"
"A-squared plus B-squared is equal to C-squared."
"Correct."

Samuel, who was sitting more towards the front of the class, looked over his shoulder at Fredrick, having recognized his voice. Fredrick smiled in response, giving a curt wave.

"OI! Fred!" said Samuel. Samuel proceeded by lifting up his desk quickly arriving at Freds desk and placed his desk down beside Fredrick's.
"Your extremely smart. Could you please help me with these questions," Samuel pointed out every single question the teacher had assigned save one that Samuel had answered incorrectly.
"Samuel, for once could you just change seats rather than disrupt everyone by carrying your desk through the whole class," said the teacher still exasperated.
"Oh, I never thought of that. Thank-you teacher!" said Samuel.
"Um... okay... Just try your best and maybe you won't have to take make-up classes this time," said the teacher.
"Thank-you!" responded Samuel.
"How did I ever end up with a student like him?" said the teacher under her breath(she really like kids, but Sam's difficult for her).
The door opened up and in walked Kurahoshi. Kurahoshi was wearing black pants with a white dress shirt and a tie.
"Oh, well who might you be?" asked the teacher
"I'm Kurahoshi Yakekoge. I am here as a student teacher," he said, then pulled out an envelope and handed it to the teacher. The Teacher opened up the lettler and read it.
"Well then, everything seems well. However you seem quite young," she said.
"Yes, many people tell me that" he said his expression was blank from the moment he had entered the classroom. "I'm actually only seventeen, but I have been in intensive schooling since I was thirteen," he said(which was completely true).
"Well then," said the teacher slightly put off by Kurahoshi's mono-tone expression. "Since you are here to assist me and learn how to be a better teacher I'd ask you to help Samuel with his work. If you can manage to teach him You'll have my letter of recommendation anywhere," she said.
"All right," replied Kurahoshi. He would've preferred the Vongola not knowing of his presence for a little longer, but oh well. He went over to Samuel.
Samuel starred right at Kurahoshi as if he were suspicious "So your smart right?" asked Samuel still staring at Kurahoshi.
"Yes," answered Kurahoshi.
"And your gonna help me?" asked Samuel.
"Yes," answered Kurahoshi.
Samuel was still staring " suddenly he pulled out a seat for Kurahoshi "Then have a seat," said Samuel smiling happily at Kurahoshi.
Kurahoshi was surprised, but quickly regained his blank expression "Thank-you," he said sitting.
"Do I look familiar to you" asked Kurahoshi to Samuel.
Samuel thought hard for a moment then smiled and said
"Not at all"
'This guy is areal idiot' thought to Kurhoshi.