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Ichigo is not very pleased. He’s not pissed off, either, but he’s not happy. Karakura is a crazy town, it has been crazy before he had been born in it and after? Well, it will never be the same. Ichigo loves that, he’s aware of himself enough to know that without the chaos he would get bored and a bored Ichigo is a terrible thing.
Life after meeting Rukia has been one chaos after the other and violence has been part of it long before she was part of the picture. Too much quiet these days makes him twitchy. And his town reflects that. It was never fighting that he disliked, it’s his friends in danger that sets him off.
He’s good at combat, it’s in his blood. More than that, he loves it. It’s in his instincts. He won’t go out looking for a fight but he also won’t shy away from one. That said, a spar or two to get his blood pumping? It keeps his inner hollow happy and so Ichigo indulges himself.
Even before his inner hollow, Ichigo was a creature of instinct. He has always been and always will be.
Those spars get a little destructive, Ichigo knows this, his friends know this, Karakura Town knows this. By now, it doesn’t even faze them. People just duck for cover and move on with their lives, it’s one of the reasons why Ichigo likes Karakura better than Soul Society. Damn Central 46. Ichigo was never made for politics.
Oh, he can play them, he just doesn’t bother most of the time. Besides, Soul Society is a little… picky in who they allow in. Karakura, in contrast, is Ichigo’s town. And so, whoever Ichigo welcomes, Karakura does as well. And if they are not wanted here? Ichigo greets them with a punch to the face.
It’s one of those things that Ichigo just loves about his town.
Everybody knows that Karakura Town is where they’ll find Ichigo, it’s common knowledge. His friends come to him here when they need him and this makes something inside Ichigo purr with satisfaction. It’s good, he thinks, that they know to come to him when they need him. Ichigo keeps his people safe and protected.
The fact remains, however, that Ichigo is not pleased. Not pleased at all. There’s a bunch of foreigners in his town and that’s alright, really. That’s not the issue. The issue is that they won’t stop fucking destroying his town and Ichigo is rapidly losing his patience.
He knows about destructive spars, doesn’t even mind them. When it’s his people behind them. They know their limits, know that a couple of blocks of destruction is all Ichigo will allow. This group? Not his. They should behave themselves better. So Ichigo is going to have to show them.
“OI! What do you punks think you’re doing?!”
The weird bunch stop as a whole, all turning to look at him in varying looks of surprise that quickly turn to annoyance. Ichigo? He’s not amused. Whatever. This bunch of idiots won’t make him lose control, Ichigo knows better. Such a crazy bunch, too. He would be amused if they weren’t so destructive.
There’s a floating baby, a loud guy with silver hair and a sword for a hand just generally causing a ruckus, a squealing man with a bright green mohawk and sunglasses, a teenager with a tiara and his face half-hidden behind blond hair and some buffy dude with the most ridiculous hairdo-facial hair combination that Ichigo has ever seen.
Taking into account the kind of people Ichigo knows? That’s sort of impressive.
Suddenly, there’s a sword being waved around in his face and Ichigo pushes it away carelessly. Whatever. His temper snaps a little at the “VOOOOOII!” screamed into his ears, though. So he breaks the damn sword and then hits the loud asshole in the face. Silver Hair goes flying and doesn’t stand up again.
All hell breaks loose, for about 5 seconds. That’s how long it takes Ichigo to have the bunch of weirdos groaning in pain on the ground. Ichigo carelessly walks over them to take a look at Drunk-and-Angry sitting there on some ridiculous throne. The guy is standing up, face twisted in anger as he takes shot after shot at Ichigo.
Ichigo takes them all, uncaring, it barely even registers. All Ichigo really cares about is the defiance staring down at him from those pretty red eyes, some part of Ichigo that he doesn’t bother to identify sits up and takes notice. Something in this guy draws Ichigo in. It’s interesting and Ichigo is starting to like it, just a little.
So he draws the fight, makes it last longer than needed. By the frustration and fear staring back at him, Red knows it too. But Ichigo is still a little angry and high on the hunt, so he doesn’t stop. Because Red? He’s pretty like this, all roughed up and breathing heavily, eyes fixed on Ichigo, glowering. It makes Ichigo’s inner hollow sit up and take notice.
The way he keeps standing up after he falls? That makes Ichigo interested. He can respect a man like that, after all. One who doesn’t know the meaning of giving up. So Ichigo takes a lingering look at Red, who is covered in his own blood and making a valiant effort to stand and not quite managing, and Ichigo makes up his mind.
Red is now his.
Maybe it’s his inner hollow talking, maybe it’s not. It doesn’t matter in the long run because Ichigo knows himself, the nature of most of his powers demands that he does. He’s a possessive little shit and he owns it. He’s not ashamed by it. So he walks up to Red, eyes lingering on his form here and there, and then forces Red’s chin up with Zangetsu’s tip.
That glower would be deadly if looks could kill, as it is, Ichigo thinks it’s cute. Red is kneeling on the floor, arms trembling with the effort of holding him up and Ichigo takes his time appreciating the defiance radiating from his form. His mind is already going through possibilities, though.
Red needs to be healed before Ichigo can get any more spars out of him. “You’re mine now, Red.”
“Like hell I am, trash!”
Ichigo wonders for a second if he should be irritated by the answer before letting the idea go. It stops being cute when Red throws himself forward, though. Ichigo grabs the remaining gun in Red’s hand and twists until it’s nothing but scrap metal even as he scrambles to move Zangetsu away so that Red doesn’t impale himself.
The clatter of the ruined gun doesn’t even fully register before Ichigo dismisses Zangetsu and surges forward, grabbing Red by the throat and forcing him on his back. He leans casually over his opponent even as he takes him in, mentally cataloguing all the injuries he can see. “You know,” he murmurs, “something about you draws me in.”
By the widening of Red’s eyes, he knows exactly what Ichigo is talking about. It’s a curious thing but Red doesn’t elaborate and Ichigo doesn’t press for answers. Instead, he pulls Red up until he’s mostly standing, held up by Ichigo’s arm, and casts a look at the downed forms of Red’s friends. “We’ll come back for them later.”
Some extra weight on his side is a little annoying but Ichigo doesn’t say a thing. Something tells Ichigo that Red won’t appreciate his obvious relief being pointed out to him. So Ichigo mostly hums and adjusts his hold to better support Red’s weight.
Out of nowhere, this feeling of belonging just comes over him and it makes Ichigo stop, cling until he has Red fully pressed by his side. It makes him feel calm and contented, it’s an even better sensation than basking under the sun and Ichigo knows, right there, that he’s never letting go.
Red groans even as he presses a little closer and Ichigo can’t help the little hum full of satisfaction that escapes him but Red doesn’t take offence, he just presses his forehead against Ichigo’s neck and chuckles breathlessly. “Well, trash?”
Right, he had forgotten. Red needs a little bit of healing. So Ichigo flashsteps all the way to Kisuke’s shop, taking care of not aggravating Red’s injuries any further. Ichigo might enjoy the thrill of the fight but he doesn’t like seeing his people in pain and Red is his now. Even Red admits to it, judging by the way he is snuggling to Ichigo’s side.
When they arrive, Kisuke is waiting for them on the front door. He takes a cursory look at Red before he meets Ichigo’s eyes. “What have you brought me now, Kurosaki-kun?”
For some reason, a part of Ichigo feels it necessary to clarify, so he does. “This is Red, he’s mine.”
That stops Kisuke short, the blink the only sign of his surprise before he’s shadowing his eyes with his hat and covering his face with the hideous fan. “Is he now?”
It’s not Ichigo who answers, though, it’s Red whose laugh is a strange mixture of relief, hysteria and genuine amusement. “Clouds. Possessive little shits.”
He says it like it’s supposed to mean something, too. Not that Ichigo has any idea of what he means by it but that’s not the important part, the important part is that Red has not denied being Ichigo’s and that’s really all he needs. So he carefully transfers Red to Kisuke’s arms and lingers as he watches them readjust.
“Urahara Kisuke, at your service.” The scientist really shouldn’t sound so long-suffering.
Red scoffs but answers readily enough, “Xanxus di Vongola.”
It’s a good name, a strong one, Ichigo thinks. It fits Red just fine.
Ichigo watches until both men disappear into the shop and then goes to carry Red’s friends back to the shop. It takes him two trips and he has to knock Silver Hair unconscious once more, for the sake of his eardrums, but soon enough they’re on Kisuke’s capable hands and Ichigo is free to do as he pleases.
Or close to it, really. It would please him to have another spar but Red is not up to it. Ichigo should have really taken Grimmjow up on his offer this morning but he had been in a hurry to return to Karakura. It turned out for the best, even if his hollow had been left unsatisfied. Red might disagree, though. Ichigo might have played a little too much with him.
So a spar is out of the question until Kisuke says otherwise but the day is nice and sunny. Ichigo carries Red to a nice patch of sun on the engawa and then sprawls over him, his head on Red’s stomach and torso between his legs.
Xanxus wizzes a little at the extra weight. “The fuck, trash?!”
It’s fine, really, until Red starts to struggle. Ichigo just wants a little nap and Red is nice and comfortable and warm, and Ichigo has gotten greedy so he raises his head up, opens his eyes and stares. Perfectly aware that his eyes are the gold of his hollow and not the brown of his human side.
A little bit of a test, in part. And maybe not a fair one. Red doesn’t know what that means beyond weird and probably not human. But Ichigo wants to know whether the feeling of belonging was a true one, whether this Xanxus will run for the hills or accept Ichigo with all the craziness that surrounds him.
All it gets him, though, are rough fingers trailing on his cheekbones and tilting his head to give Red a better look. Ichigo allows it, mostly because he enjoys the feeling and because Red is his in a different way than Karakura or Ichigo’s friends. Red is his in an entirely new way Ichigo is just discovering, it’s only natural that he gets privileges.
When Red is done with his inspection, Ichigo snuggles back into Red’s stomach and hums in pleasure at the feeling of those fingers tentatively curling on his hair. It makes Ichigo drowsy enough that he dozes, not quite asleep but not awake either. He ignores the sound of more bodies surrounding them, a little petting gets him to settle down when the screaming and the chaos makes him twitch.
He likes it, quite a lot, actually. Which is why he’s not at all pleased when an old man shows up to impose himself on them. Oh, the old man is polite enough. It’s the people he comes with who are not pleasant at all and it pisses Ichigo off. They walk around like they are the biggest predator in the room when they don’t even come close to second place.
Ichigo stands up, irritably batting Red’s hands away when he tries to keep Ichigo in place. He’s done with the petting for today, Ichigo thinks. He’s no longer on the right mood for it, after all. Kisuke is standing in a corner, doing that little trick of his that makes him disappear into the background.
Just as well, really. Kisuke likes to play in the shadows and Ichigo likes to be forward and direct. They make a good team. Ichigo surveys Red’s posture, the defensive body language of Red’s friends and then nods to himself in acceptance.
Once his eyes turn back to the old man, the guy finally speaks. “I apologize for any trouble my son might have caused you. We will take him off your hands.”
Judging by the way The Godfather is eyeing Red, Ichigo knows exactly who he means by that. It makes him want to snort. “No.”
It sends a ripple through the room. Ichigo just scowls, crosses his arms and plants his feet. It makes Kisuke step forward, close enough to react.
Uptight Moustache doesn’t take that answer well. “Boy, this has nothing to do with you.” The condescending tone of his voice makes Ichigo twitch, a part of him already reaching for his sword.
Kisuke stays his hand when he steps between them and Ichigo stands down reluctantly but Kisuke has always been better at talking to people in this situations and Ichigo trusts his teacher. “Xanxus and his friends have been given sanctuary in Karakura.” The and you’re overstepping is silent but heavily implied.
The Godfather seems to understand and not particularly care but Ichigo remains motionless. He’ll let Kisuke deal with this for now. He has no shame in admitting that Kisuke is far smarter than he is. Sunglasses takes the options off their hands, though. The second he moves, Ichigo and Kisuke react. The fight doesn’t really get the chance to even start.
Kisuke has the guy disarmed on the floor, weird ring casually held between his fingers. Yoruichi has The Godfather still by virtue of a blade millimetres from his throat and Ichigo has Uptight Moustache under his foot, Zangetsu’s tip casually resting on his Adam’s apple.
Silence, for about a second.
“Vooooooiiii!” It sounds low and impressed. This time Silver Hair doesn’t get knocked out because he isn’t screaming it in Ichigo’s ear. It’s an improvement.
They all get distracted by Red’s incredulous laughter. He looks amused but with the undercurrent of terrified bravado he has been keeping up since their spar. It makes Ichigo scowl harder, maybe he went too far. The close eye that Red’s friends keep on the old men, though, tells Ichigo that’s not all there is to it.
“Perhaps we could talk?”
That comment takes Ichigo’s attention back to The Godfather and this time, he doesn’t bother to hold the snort in. “Wasn’t us who started throwing punches, was it, senile old man?”
It makes Uptight Moustache and Sunglasses bristle. The blonde brat just snickers. The Godfather doesn’t really react and Ichigo is set into tying them up and dropping them off somewhere else far away from his town when Kisuke speaks up again. “Of course! Of course! Where are my manners? Would you like some tea?”
He doesn’t move, though, no one moves a muscle. After an uncomfortably long silence, The Godfather takes his cue and answers, “no, no. No need to bother.”
Kisuke beams at them, entirely in his harmless if eccentric shopkeeper persona. “If you are sure. Now then, gentlemen, what brings you to my humble shop?”
Red and his friends just watch with morbid curiosity, still enough that it would be easy to forget they are even there. Ichigo is content with keeping his eyes on Kisuke, though, so he doesn’t mind. He’s taking his cues from the scientist in this. He spares a look to Red, however, because that stare has something like possessiveness in it and it makes Ichigo want to preen.
The Godfather sighs like he’s so sad and tired deep inside and Ichigo barely refrains from rolling his eyes. Manipulation is Kisuke’s game, it’s almost pathetic to watch. “My son has made some… bad choices. I am simply worried, it’s better that he recovers with family, where he belongs.”
To that, Kisuke sends a look Ichigo’s way and so Ichigo stakes his claim. “He’s mine now.”
For some reason, that forces Uptight Moustache into stillness. “A fucking cloud.”
Ichigo still has no idea of what that means and has no care of it as long as they respect the fact that they won’t be hurting Red. He’s under Ichigo’s protection and he won’t stand for it. The declaration, however, makes the other two old men switch gears. It doesn’t escape Kisuke’s notice, either.
“Xanxus, my boy, is going to have to return to Varia HQ sooner or later. He is their commander.”
It’s said leadingly and transparent in its’ attempt at manipulation and Kisuke’s mouth twitches up wryly. Ichigo for his part turns to look at Red to confirm whether that’s what he wants. He gets an even stare in return and Ichigo nods to himself once more.
When he meets Kisuke’s eyes again, the blonde radiates amusement and mischief. “I’ll prepare Karakura for transport, then. If that’s all gentlemen, I’ll escort you out.”
Yoruichi speaks up for the first time, laughing sadistically. “I’ll let the gang and the Captain Commander know.”
That leaves everybody looking stupidly at them but Ichigo ignores them now that the matter is resolved. He can feel the spike of spiritual pressure coming from the training grounds, signalling the arrival of Grimmjow for a spar. He puts Zangetsu up and over his shoulder before he moves to answer the challenge.
Admittedly, he has a lot of fun. Grimmjow is not strong enough to actually win against him but then again, these days, very few people can put him through a workout. It is still good sport, still exhilarating. Some of those things Ichigo likes in Red, Grimmjow has too. He always stands up, again and again. There’s no draw, though. Nothing pulling at him the way Red can.
Just some friendly, if antagonistic, competition.
He knows that Red and his friends are sitting on a boulder, watching them. It doesn’t bother him any and they are not interrupting, so Ichigo lets it go. He’s got his fill of Red for the moment, Ichigo is itching for a spar that Red cannot give and Grimmjow is doing nicely.
Besides, the three old men left him twitchy, irritated. After the spar, Ichigo is going right back to patroling. Normally he doesn’t bother with human trespassers but if the ones going after Red are human, then Ichigo needs to pay more attention. He needs to figure out those that might be a problem.
An oversight, to be sure. Most of Ichigo’s fights have been with people who have high levels of spiritual pressure. It’s not an excuse, not really. He’ll correct it from now on.
Grimmjow falls and Ichigo waits for a little while to see if he’ll stand up again. He doesn’t and Ichigo huffs before dismissing Zangetsu. He doesn’t have to worry if he took this too far, not with Grimmjow. They both have hollow instincts, they both understand. The arrancar will be up and about after some rest, Ichigo is not concerned.
Ichigo does, however, pick up Grimmjow and drag him to the hot springs. No need to make the recovery time last longer. Grimmjow doesn’t wake up when Ichigo drops him on the water and makes sure that he won’t drown. Red watches silently from his spot two steps back from Ichigo. Just out of reach.
Red is wary, which is not necessarily a bad reaction if ultimately a useless one. Ichigo takes care of his people. Still, he’s not being openly antagonistic so Ichigo will take the wariness. He turns around, catches Red’s gaze and waits. When he says nothing, Ichigo waves him away and turns to leave. He has patrols to complete.
“Trash!” Red says, smelling of anxiety and interest, “why didn’t you use your flames?”
How annoying, Ichigo thinks. Red is cute, he really is but Ichigo is feeling twitchy and not all that ready to be indulging. Kisuke, however, is radiating curiosity from his spot in the shadows so Ichigo resigns himself to this conversation. “Flames? Is that what you call them? Your power?”
The incredulous silence is answer enough.
It makes Ichigo sigh. “And I have it too? Is that why you draw me in?”
At that, Red stands a little bit taller. It’s a good look on him. “Yes, I’m a sky, trash. You’re my shitty cloud.”
The possessiveness in Red’s voice is pleasing and Ichigo feels the corner of his lips twitch up. “I’m nobody’s pet,” he reminds the other, just in case. And then, “but I’m yours, yes.” Ichigo can sense the bond, after all, settled in his very core and humming pleasantly.
Kisuke makes his way out of the shadows at that, obviously curious and obviously cautious. Ichigo has always been a creature of instinct, he follows his gut and it gets him where he needs to be. In contrast, Kisuke is a creature of logic. He’ll investigate and experiment, tug and manipulate until he feels comfortable with his knowledge.
Ichigo will let him, of course, because Ichigo trusts his teacher and they make a very good team.
Steely eyes meet him before Kisuke hides them again behind the rim of his hat. “Can you draw it out?”
Humming in consideration, Ichigo concentrates on his core, in that part of him where he can feel the bond connecting. It doesn’t take that long to get a good feel of this new ability and then he pulls on it, wills it to manifest. His hands explode in purple flames but they give off no heat.
There are some surprised sounds from their audience but Ichigo ignores them, concentrating on this new ability instead. Kisuke hums as he studies it too and then he nods to himself. “After your patrols, then, Kurosaki-kun?”
Nodding in agreement, Ichigo turns to leave. “See ya later, Hat-&-Clogs.”
Xanxus is not above admitting, if only to himself and only in his mind, that he has absolutely no fucking idea of what is going on. His life, apparently not content with the humiliation of losing to a shitty brat, has decided to become a shit show and Xanxus is simply being swept by the current.
He doesn’t fucking appreciate it. He is the Varia Commander, he is the fucking Boss, it’s him who goes around fucking up other people’s lives, not the other way around. And yet, his life has gone and gotten fucked up all of the sudden. It’s not even the shitty brat’s fault, oh no. It’s the fault of some shitty Japanese trash called “Ichigo Kurosaki”.
The fuck? What do these Japanese assholes feed their shitty brats anyway?
Varia Commander or not, it turns out Xanxus was absolutely unprepared for this. He has no fucking clue on how to deal with his new shitty cloud. Admittedly, he has never fucking had a shitty cloud before. That trash Ottavio, the fucking traitor, was never his cloud. Only the cloud officer and yes, clouds are famously hard to deal with.
That doesn’t fucking help him at all.
Kurosaki does whatever Kurosaki fucking wants and it’s driving Xanxus up the fucking wall. Xanxus knows, of course, that the shitty old man was salivating at the mouth at the idea of having Kurosaki in the Varia for the shitty old man to order around. It wasn’t going to fucking work that way, no fucking way.
His fucking Varia listens to Xanxus and Xanxus only, the shitty old man forgets that the fucking Varia is a fucking independent assassination squad. Emphasis on the fucking independent part. Xanxus doesn’t give a shit if the shitty cloud tells the shitty old man to suck it.
Problem is, Kurosaki doesn’t listen to Xanxus either and that fucking pisses him off. He is not fucking used to this, the Varia is his kingdom. Normally, if any of his shitty elements did something like this, Xanxus would fucking kick the shit out of them until they learned better.
Can’t do that to fucking Kurosaki, though, can he? Fucking Kurosaki thinks Xanxus is cute when he fucking tries and then proceeds to fucking throw him around like a shitty bug. And that’s, of course, not fucking counting shitty situations like this. Every once in a while, his shitty cloud will show up out of fucking nowhere to kidnap Xanxus.
Neither Xanxus nor his other shitty elements ever fucking see him coming, the shitty cloud then happily proceeds to find some shitty warm spot for them to fucking cuddle in. Now, normally, Xanxus would fucking throw a fit but if he does that his fucking shitty cloud goes for that too.
Meaning: fucking Kurosaki gets a fucking spar and his freaking cuddles and Xanxus ends up beaten up and used as a fucking teddy bear anyway. Bruises mostly, too. The only thing really fucking injured is his fucking pride. At this point, Xanxus is taking the fucking cuddles. So here Xanxus is, with a lap full of shitty cloud, fucking hating everything and admitting to himself that this is his fucking life now.
On the plus side, even fucking Nono is terrified of ordering Xanxus around now because his shitty cloud is also fucking territorial and at the minimal sight of distress from Xanxus, he goes on a fucking rampage. The CEDEF’s HQ will never be the fucking same.
It’s fucking hilarious. It’s also fucking terrifying. One of these days Xanxus is going to get a fucking papercut and it’ll be the end of the known world.
Further, Xanxus is fucking convinced that his shitty cloud has a fucking army of sorts fucking backing him up. There are fucking “captains” and “lieutenants” casually showing up in Karakura town for fucking spars and friendly meetings with his shitty cloud. All end up getting dragged home by weirdly adoring underlinings.
Those fucking creeps look at his fucking shitty cloud with wonder, fear and awe all mixed into one. It’s freaking disturbing. They mostly wouldn’t have bothered with Xanxus at all until they fucking noticed how much Kurosaki likes him. Then it all turned into “Xanxus-sama” this and “Xanxus-sama” that.
To make things worse, the stories those little shits tell? All seem to have a fucking pattern. Somebody pisses Kurosaki off and then Kurosaki goes right the fuck ahead and unleashes hell on the poor bastards. And his shitty cloud didn’t even know how to use flames when they met.
Honestly, it fucking makes Xanxus a little giddy on the inside. Of course, his shitty cloud would be a fucking powerhouse. Still, the underlinings get more and more fucking annoying. Though Xanxus is actually very sure that they’re trying their best to be fucking deferential.
Not the lieutenants or the captains, though. Those don’t give a fucking shit. They just fucking waltz through town with their own fucking craziness, spreading it the fuck around. And that’s another fucking thing, how the hell did a fucking town just show up around Varia HQ overnight without anybody fucking noticing?
It makes zero sense.
Xanxus wants to fucking brake something and he fucking would have, had he not been informed by the shitty blonde scientist of the “limit of destruction over spars” that nobody talks about but everybody religiously respects. Xanxus knows what the fuck that means, he’s not crazy enough to mess with his shitty clouds territory, that’s for freaking sure.
An explosion breaks Xanxus from his increasingly violent thoughts and Kurasaki fucking grumbles from where he’s got his face buried in Xanxus’ stomach. The fucking shitty cloud only opens an eye to watch, though, and Xanxus pads with his fingers under it. It’s turned brown again which Xanxus has learned it means fewer chances of fucking destruction.
Weird as fuck, Xanxus has no fucking idea. All Xanxus knows is that gold eyes are the eyes of a fucking cat about to fucking play with his food and brown eyes are the eyes of a freaking pussycat. Irritable, sure, stubborn too, but otherwise fucking easier to handle.
The shitty scientist shows up out of fucking nowhere and Xanxus wouldn’t have noticed if it wasn’t for the shitty cloud’s grumbled complaints. It’s fucking making him paranoid. And yes, Xanxus has learnt to fucking interpret the grumbles, thank you very fucking much. Because this is his fucking life now.
"Kurosaki-kun? It seems there's a problem with Central 46."
What the fuck is central 46? Because that? That just got his shitty cloud to fucking tense up and Xanxus fucking takes offence. Two fucking hours of petting his shitty cloud into submission fucking gone, out the damn window. What the fuck? So Xanxus cards his fingers through orange hair and tries to soothe him again. It doesn't fucking work.
There’s an arm around his waist, hard as a steel bar and hauling him up. Kurosaki hands him over to the shitty scientist, careful as you please. Xanxus would fucking complain except that he’s seen his shitty cloud carry people around like fucking potato bags.
Xanxus is not about to fucking risk it.
The cloud-trash and the shitty scientist share a fucking look and then his shitty cloud’s expression settles in something close to annoyed disinterest. The shitty cloud huffs in annoyance, sword materializing out of fucking nothing in his hand. “I’ll handle it, Hat-&-Clogs.”
It answers about zero of the questions that Xanxus has. “What the fuck, trash?!”
A fucking portal materializes as his shitty cloud swings his sword and yes, fuck that. Xanxus gives up. It’s too fucked up for him to process. Fucking Kurosaki is barely gone by the time Xanxus has finally swallowed his fucking pride and he huffs in frustration as he waits for the call to connect. “Hello?”
“Baby trash,” he says, in his most civil tone. It fucking burns.
“Xan…xus?!”
Well, at least it wasn’t a fucking screech. Xanxus supposes that’s something. “How the fuck do you handle Hibari, trash?!”
No sound comes from the other side of the call and Xanxus is about to start fucking screaming obscenities when Sawada’s voice, full of sympathy, stops him in his tracks. “Oh Xanxus-san, I’m so sorry.”
Yeah, that’s it. Xanxus is going to fucking kill this little shit and enjoy every second of it.
“Alright, Xanxus-san, this is important. Does he or she have a second in command?” What? What is Xanxus supposed to do with that answer?
Whatever, Xanxus is going to assume the shitty brat is fucking going somewhere with that. He thinks of the shitty scientist. “Yes, he does, trash. Why?”
“Right,” Sawada sounds more cheerful and it makes him relax marginally, Xanxus is never going to fucking tell a soul. “Their second knows them for longer, so it’s better to just work through them if possible.”
Like Xanxus doesn’t fucking know that. Fuck this, it’s useless. Before he can hang up, though, Sawada continues: “you should also ask about bribes.”
“Bribes?” Xanxus doesn’t fucking bribe his people, they do as he says and that’s it.
Except that isn’t working, is it?
“Yes, Xanxus-san. Clouds are like cats, they do what they want. But if you have the right bribe, sometimes they play along.”
Fuck it. Might as well. Xanxus was good with the cats of his neighbourhood, back in the slums. It might be worth a try.
OMAKE:
Timoteo had not been expecting the disruption but his people are far too well trained to interrupt his meetings without a good reason so he ordered his guardians to settle down and waited patiently for his secretary to catch his breath.
"Sir! The letter you sent master Xanxus, sir, it..." The poor man looks close to tears, "master Xanxus got a papercut, sir."
As much as Timoteo wants to bury his head on his arms and weep, he is still Don Vongola and has an image to protect so he studiously ignores the sound of explosions in the background. "I see," he doesn't really. Isn't Kurosaki aware that Xanxus is the commander of an assassination squad?
"Maybe we should start the evacuation?"
Judging by how close the explosions are, they might be a little late for that. Not that Timoteo will say it out loud. "Yes, yes. I do believe that is prudent."