Hibari Osamu

After a few hours, the sun began to sink in the sky and Gokudera ordered the children inside. They protested, as Kiyohiko was able to hit the ball (it would only go about ten meters, but at least he hit the thing) and the sun wasn’t even close to setting, but Gokudera would have none of it. At least once they were inside the Compound, he would be able to lose the kids somehow and potentially get in a few hours of rest before the other adults came home and dinner served.

They walked inside and placed the bat, gloves and ball inside a closet before the children began to run about. The commotion began to give Gokudera a headache, so he walked in the direction of the bathroom to see if there was some aspirin in the cabinet.

Gokudera never did make it to the bathroom though. Standing in his way was a scary-looking five-year-old clutching a yellow, fluffy stuffed bird. The other kids noticed how still Gokudera was and came over to investigate.

“Hahi, it’s Osamu-chan,” Haruhi smiled. She bent forward and patted the little kid on the head. Before she could pull her hand away, the child bit her fingers.

“Ouch!” she cried. Gokudera did not see any blood spewing, so he figured Haruhi was going to be fine. He looked at her fingers anyways, since she held out her hand in his direction.

“Biting isn’t nice Osamu,” Gokudera deadpanned. Well, the skin was almost broken, so he could not really blame the girl. He looked at the boy, who was a carbon copy of his father. In fact, Gokudera remembered the first time anyone had ever seen Osamu was when Kyoya brought the boy to a meeting the previous year—simply stating that it was his “turn.” No one, even the Tenth, dared asked where the child had come from. Some things were just better left alone.

“Herbivore,” Osamu said plainly, pointing at Haruhi. Gokudera smacked his forehead. This child obviously inherited more of his father’s mannerisms than he would admit is comfortable.

“You’re a mean little brat,” Masaru accused. “Say you’re sorry.” Osamu glared at the older children and grunted.

“You’re all worthless herbivores.”

“Goku-oji! Make him apologize!” Masaru demanded. Haruhi was still sitting on the floor, nursing her fingers and Kiyohiko was having a miniature panic session due to his friend’s throbbing digits.

“Come on Osamu,” Gokudera said, keeping his distance away from the kid. “Apologize to Haruhi.”

“She should have never touched me.”

Oh yeah… Hibari’s kid.

“Apologize right now or I’ll… erm…”

“You’ll do what?”

Man, this kid was fierce.

“I’ll… I’ll put you in time-out until your dad gets home,” Gokudera threatened. It sounded fairly credible, in his semi-expert opinion, and was surprised when the boy smirked.

“You wouldn’t dare.”

Deciding that having children call his bluff was not the right way to go, Gokudera swiftly grabbed the kid by the back of his collar and whisked him into the bathroom. No one, no matter how small or how much Kyoya’s kid, was going to make fun of the Vongola’s right-hand man like that. He saw the bar of soap sitting on its plate and stuffed the end into Osamu’s mouth, remembering the discipline method from a movie he once saw.

“This is what happens to kids who bite,” Gokudera frowned. Osamu narrowed his eyes and spat out the soap.

“I’ll bite your head off,” the kid snarled. He tried reaching for Gokudera, but being that all of his limbs were too short to do much, he ended up flailing about and dropping his stuffed bird.

“Hey, what’s this?” Haruhi asked as she picked up the bird. It took Gokudera all of five seconds to realize what that purple thing was sticking out of the stuffed animal’s beak….

The Ten Year Bazooka… that Lambo had been missing since earlier that week.

“Give me that!” Gokudera said, lunging for the bird. Haruhi squealed and threw the bird at Kiyohiko, who immediately cowered and allowed Masaru to catch it.

“You’re gonna have to catch us first!” Masaru laughed. The Storm let out a little grunt as he tried to relinquish the weapon from the kid’s grasp, but slip on the soap Osamu had spit out and fell.

Gokudera attempted to get up and pursue, but Osamu wriggled free of Gokudera’s grasp and bit the man’s arm. Trying to shake off the kid, he could only watch in horror as the other three kids down the hall were playing with the cannon.

“This looks extremely like Lambo-nii’s cannon!” Masaru marveled.

“We should give it back to Gokudera-san!” Kiyohiko said nervously.

“Hii, stop worrying Yohi-kun,” Haruhi said, looking into the cannon barrel. “It’s probably just a toy Osamu-chan’s dad gave him.”

“Feels like one of those extremely harmless air-guns,” Masaru said, judging the weight of the weapon. “I’ve got one at home, but it’s green.”

“What happens?”

“Stand back and I’ll show you Haruhi!”

“No!” Gokudera rushed towards the kids, trying his best to ignore the pain still clenched to his arm. He was too late though, for the cannon already fired and a puff of smoke enveloped Haruhi.

Haru’s gonna kill me.

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A/N: -chan = diminutive for cute girls and cute kids