Anonymous said: hello! pertaining to all of your stories, do you think that when you have a chapter in the works, you could post an excerpt? even if it's a small one, I'd love to see what you in plan! the knbxkhr excerpt, i know will probably not be continued, but I love seeing a story update from you!
I could do that once in a while. I have a little bit left for that KnBxKHR crossover so I’ll post the rest here:
“Mukuro, you are scaring the other people.”
“I am not. It is hardly my fault that they dislike my pet bees. You do not see me complaining about their flea-bitten dogs or mangy cats, do you?”
In one area of the crowded airport, Tetsuya sighed and resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. He turned a flat stare on the most mischievous one of his young charges. “First of all, those pets are all in cages. And second of all, your bees are not real.”
Mukuro only smirked up at him. The eight-year-old waved a lazy hand in the air and the trail of bees buzzing behind him and sending quite a few people running away in search of security fanned out even further. A lady who had just spotted them screamed and fainted.
“Mukuro,” Tetsuya fixed the stern no-nonsense look that he had perfected from years of dealing with Kise and Aomine on the young illusionist.
Mukuro pouted in that adorable way that only children could manage (though admittedly, on Mukuro, it was becoming more wicked and less adorable with each passing day) before twitching his fingers again and making the bees disappear. Confused exclamations erupted from all around them.
“You are no fun, Tetsuya,” Mukuro announced loftily. “It wasn’t as if I was hurting them.”
Tetsuya rapped his knuckles gently against the boy’s head. Mukuro huffed and swatted his hand away just as quickly.
“Still,” Tetsuya reproached mildly. “We are in a hurry, and leaving a trail of unconscious bodies behind is not practical.”
Mukuro grinned at that, and that particular expression, rare and always astoundingly boyish, never failed to take Tetsuya by surprise, even if he never showed it.
The past year and a half had been… interesting. Tetsuya hadn’t planned on taking three kids in. His original intention had been to retrieve the girl that the distressed mother handing out missing poster after missing poster on a street corner had told him about after he had stopped to listen to her on a whim.
He had heard of the Estraneo of course, and he’d known that to track them down to get Rosetta would also most likely bring him in contact with a whole bunch of other missing kids, and he had been right. Still, he’d done the right thing, freed them all, and returned them to their families along with their respective medical documents from their time with the Estraneo.
But the three Estraneo children had had nowhere to go, and Tetsuya knew firsthand how bad an orphanage could be. Of course, he would’ve stuck around to make sure they would go to good families, but he had also known that they wouldn’t want to. After spending their entire lives thus far under adults who had cut them open and experimented on them, none of them would’ve wanted to be placed under more authority figures.
Tetsuya suspected that, bar Mukuro and his desire to learn from Tetsuya, all three had only wanted to stick with him because he had made it plenty clear from the beginning that he wouldn’t keep them with him against their will. Plus he had freed them. That had probably gone a long way to soothing their suspicions.
Taking on the responsibility of looking after two six-year-olds and a seven-year-old, especially ones who had been more or less tortured for as long as they could remember, had been tough, and that was an understatement.
For the first five months, sleep had pretty much been a hobby more than a necessity for Tetsuya since he had found himself getting up several times a night whenever one of the kids had started screaming from nightmares. Ken and Chikusa had been worse than Mukuro, but only because the latter always tried to stay as silent as physically possible.
But Tetsuya had stuck with it, and the children had slowly, very slowly, come to trust him, at least enough not to start yelling at him – Ken – or turn a cold shoulder – Chikusa – or attempt to lie about what had woken him – Mukuro – whenever Tetsuya coaxed them awake from fitful sweat-drenched night terrors.
And then, of course, there had been the arguments during the daytime, and the childish refusal to stay still and study the books that Tetsuya had bought for them because they had refused to go to school, and, worst of all, their tendency to attack first and ask questions never whenever some stranger so much as looked at them funny. They hadn’t really cared whether or not their victims had been civilians or not.
That had been the main reason that Tetsuya had taken them all in, especially Mukuro. He had seen it, the way that the child illusionist stood at the cliff edge of insanity. One light push in the wrong direction would send the boy plunging down a path that would be very hard to turn back from. The other two had also been like that, save to a lesser degree.
He had also seen the power-hungry gleam in Mukuro’s too-old eyes when he had seen Tetsuya’s abilities, and in no way did Tetsuya want another Aomine or Akashi on his hands, especially not one so young, corrupted by the addicting pull of too much power and too little love.
So Tetsuya had extended his hand, and he’d done the best he could over the past eighteen months. He thought he had done a fairly good job so far. That borderline madness in each child had receded, and while all three still had less qualms about attacking people than the average human being, well, none of them were normal to begin with, not even Tetsuya, and he had finally curbed their propensity for violence – somewhat – and had managed to teach them – mostly – when to draw the line.
They had mainly stuck with either sparring with each other or taking down crooks and assassins now.
And yes, Tetsuya had allowed this. Whether anyone liked it or not, Mukuro, Ken, and Chikusa would never happily live normal civilian lives. They had been born into the mafia life in the first place, and their instincts had been honed by years of living in fear. Besides, they liked being able to defend themselves, needed it as much as they needed air to breathe, and had demanded that Tetsuya give them nothing less.
Not to mention Tetsuya himself was an assassin; he was hardly the best role model for steering children onto the straight and narrow.
So, while he had started out teaching only Mukuro, Tetsuya had also begun some martial arts lessons for Ken and Chikusa soon after, and he had pointed them at small-time criminals or amateur Mafioso for experience.
“Hey! There’s our stuff!” A shout came from Tetsuya’s left.
He watched with secret amusement as Ken bounded forward towards the conveyer belt, reaching for the four suitcases that they had been waiting for.
“Oi, Kaki-pi! Gimme a hand!”
“No need to shout; I’m right here,” Chikusa retorted, soft-spoken as always but much, much more certain of himself than he had been a year and a half ago.
“They are such children,” Mukuro scoffed from beside Tetsuya, arms crossed petulantly in front of himself as Ken and Chikusa dissolved into yet another bickering match.
Tetsuya mentally rolled his eyes. Outwardly, he dropped a hand on Mukuro’s shoulder and began steering him towards the other two boys. “You are a child too, Mukuro.”
Mukuro just sent him that contemptuous look that had become fairly commonplace in their misfit family. The young illusionist had practically raised that expression to an art form.
“Hey, don’t just stand there; get your own bags!” Ken grumbled as he hefted his bright yellow luggage (It’s hideous, Ken. / Shut up, Kaki-pi! / I have to agree with Chikusa. / You shut up too, Muku-baka! / What did you call me, you uncouth barbarian?) with one hand and shoved Mukuro’s dark blue suitcase in said boy’s direction.
Mukuro sniffed, evidently miffed at the rough gesture, but they were all used to Ken’s prickly attitude by now.
On the other hand, Chikusa methodically pulled up the handle of his luggage bag as he set it on the ground before stubbornly attaching Tetsuya’s black duffel bag on top instead of handing it to the owner.
Tetsuya offered a faint smile, automatically reaching out to tousle Chikusa’s hair. The boy dimpled a brief smile back at him; out of all three kids, it seemed that Chikusa had been the one to pick up Tetsuya’s own smile, while Ken usually either cackled outright or scowled at everyone and everything around him, and Mukuro had his own signature smirk. Children could be so adorable.
“Alright, let’s go then,” He started herding them towards the exit, eyes instinctively scanning the airport for any signs of danger even though they had just arrived. “If we take a taxi, we should get to our new home before it gets too dark.”
“Why do we have to get a place with a café under it?” Ken whined (not that the kid would ever admit to doing so). “There’ll be… strangers coming into our home!”
“Our home will consist of two floors, both above the café,” Tetsuya reminded him as Chikusa stepped out to hail a taxi. They’d all gotten used to the fact that, without deliberately drawing attention to himself, Tetsuya was largely invisible to the world and was more likely to get hit by the taxi than anything else. “The entrance to it will be hidden from view. Mukuro can do it easily.”
A cocky smirk made its way onto Mukuro’s face, only for an annoyed glint to enter his eyes in the next second when Ken muttered snarkily, “Remind me to stand outside when that happens then. Muku-baka would probably bring down the ceiling on us.”
Mukuro narrowed his eyes, glowering crossly at the blond. “At least that would put the rest of us out of the misery of watching you raid the refrigerator like a rabid pig. You still have no table manners to speak of after all these months, or any manners for that matter.”
“Boys, not here,” Tetsuya sighed, left hand snaking out to keep Ken in place as the blond tried to leap on top of Mukuro, while his right hand tugged a brief warning in the pineapple tuff of Mukuro’s blue hair. The number in the budding illusionist’s right eye switched reluctantly from three back to six, and Ken, while still grumbling under his breath, settled down again. “You may attempt to kill each other at a later time.”
“Nii-sama, we can go,” Chikusa interjected before Mukuro or Ken could snark at each other some more. The quietest of Tetsuya’s three kids waved them over to the taxi he had managed to flag down. An impish light entered the boy’s eyes as he glanced at his two surrogate brothers, though his expression remained stoic. “If you want, Nii-sama, we can leave them behind. That way, we won’t have to listen to them argue, and it won’t be as crowded in the taxi eith-”
Chikusa was cut off when he was forced to duck the shoe that Ken had chucked at him. “Shut up, Kaki-pi!”
Tetsuya sighed as the blond rounded on Chikusa this time but he didn’t bother shushing them, choosing to shoo them all into the taxi instead. The sooner they arrived at their new home, the better, preferably before someone got caught in the crossfire.
Nero, Devil May Cry 4