KHR: Decimo Primo

The sun had dipped below the horizon, casting a warm, golden glow across the open field as Tsuna and his classmates arrived at the party venue. Rows of beautifully arranged tables stretched as far as the eye could see, their surfaces laden with elaborate dishes and sparkling glassware. The air was alive with the murmur of conversations and the clinking of glasses, mingling with the faint notes of a live orchestra playing a sophisticated melody in the background. Soft, warm lights hung from strings overhead, creating an enchanting atmosphere that blended elegance with festivity.

Tsuna's eyes widened as he took in the scene. The field was brimming with people, each one dressed impeccably in suits, gowns, and tailored outfits that spoke of wealth and power. Many of them carried an aura of authority that made it clear they were no ordinary guests.

"Are those...?" Tsuna whispered, glancing nervously at Raul.

Raul, whose sharp eyes had already begun scanning the crowd, nodded. "Mafia bosses, high-ranking officials, and some of the most famous names in the underworld. Look at their entourages."

Pantera, standing on Tsuna's other side, let out a low whistle. "This is no ordinary party. It's like a summit of the mafia elite. Just being here is making my skin crawl… and I kind of like it."

Basil, ever calm and composed, tilted his head thoughtfully. "It seems the Vongola have used this opportunity to host a gathering of their allies and influential figures. A rare event indeed."

Tsuna swallowed hard, tugging nervously at his collar. "Why would they invite students to something like this? We don't belong here."

"Speak for yourself," Pantera said with a grin. "I'm planning to enjoy the food."

Before Tsuna could respond, a tall, elegant figure approached the group. Claudia Vongola, dressed in a flowing black gown accented with gold, radiated authority and poise. She smiled warmly at the students.

"Welcome to the Vongola famiglia's banquet," she said. "This event is an opportunity for you to witness the strength of our alliances and the unity of our world. It is also a chance for you to make connections that may shape your future."

"Connections?" Tsuna echoed nervously.

Claudia's smile deepened. "Every interaction is an opportunity, Tsunayoshi. Even in the mafia, relationships are the foundation of power. Do not underestimate their value."

As Claudia turned to greet another group of guests, Tsuna and his friends were left to navigate the sea of influential figures. Tsuna couldn't help but feel overwhelmed, but Basil's steady presence beside him was a small comfort.

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he group began to weave through the crowd. Everywhere Tsuna turned, he saw powerful individuals engaged in animated discussions. Some of the names he overheard made his heart skip a beat—people whose exploits were infamous even among students at Mafia School.

"That's Don Caparelli," Raul muttered, pointing subtly to a rotund man surrounded by an entourage of serious-looking bodyguards. "He's the head of the largest smuggling operation in Europe."

"And over there," Basil added, nodding toward a striking woman with silver hair and a piercing gaze, "is Madame Lafleur. She's known for her expertise in intelligence gathering and espionage."

Pantera's eyes sparkled with excitement. "This is insane. It's like walking through a live encyclopedia of the underworld."

As they moved, a few of the more curious or amused attendees took notice of the students. Some offered polite nods or murmured greetings, while others simply observed them with interest. Tsuna felt his anxiety grow under the weight of so many powerful gazes.

"Why do I feel like we're being evaluated?" he whispered.

"Because we are," Basil replied, his tone even. "This is more than a banquet. It's a stage. Every person here is assessing potential allies, threats, and opportunities."

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As they stopped near one of the tables laden with hors d'oeuvres, a familiar voice rang out behind them. "Well, if it isn't the Vongola's little protégés."

Tsuna turned to find Squalo, Xanxus, and Belphegor standing a short distance away. The trio's presence immediately sent a ripple of unease through the students nearby, who instinctively gave them a wide berth.

Xanxus's sharp eyes scanned the crowd, his expression one of disinterest, though his presence alone commanded attention. Squalo, ever brash, smirked at the sight of Tsuna and his friends.

"Didn't think I'd see you brats here," Squalo said, his tone mocking but not overly hostile.

Belphegor chuckled, his signature grin as unsettling as ever. "The prince is amused. This banquet just got more entertaining."

Tsuna froze, unsure of how to respond. Raul and Pantera stiffened beside him, while Basil maintained his calm demeanor.

"We're just here to observe," Basil said diplomatically, his voice steady. "Nothing more."

"Hmph," Xanxus muttered, his gaze flicking over the students. "Try not to embarrass yourselves." With that, the trio moved on, leaving a trail of relieved sighs in their wake.

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The students stopped near a table laden with hors d'oeuvres when Naito, as usual, seized the moment to take center stage. Spotting a young woman with vibrant pink hair and an unconventional outfit of bold patterns, he grinned. The woman's unique appearance was striking, standing out even in the eclectic crowd.

"Excuse me, miss," Naito began, his tone as smooth as a seasoned charmer's. "A vision like yours doesn't belong in the background. Let me guess, you're the muse for half the artists here tonight?"

The woman blinked in surprise before letting out a delighted laugh. "Aren't you a little young to be using such lines?"

"Age is just a number," Naito replied, winking. "And charm, well, that's timeless."

Raul leaned toward Basil and Tsuna, his expression incredulous. "Is he seriously flirting? With her?"

Basil nodded, observing the interaction with faint amusement. "It appears so. He's certainly bold."

"I'll say," Tsuna muttered, staring at the scene. He couldn't decide if he was impressed or mortified.

Meanwhile, Lunga crossed her arms, sighing loudly enough for the trio to hear. "This always happens. The moment he starts this nonsense, Pantera gets all gloomy."

Tsuna glanced at Pantera, who stood a short distance away, her expression dark and unsettling. She muttered something under her breath, and the air around her seemed to grow heavier.

"Uh… is she okay?" Tsuna asked nervously.

"No," Lunga said flatly. "She hates it when he flirts. Says it's 'disgusting' and 'a waste of his talents.' Then she starts muttering things about what she'd do to the poor girl if she had the chance."

Raul shuddered. "Let's steer clear of her for now."

"I second that," Tsuna agreed, edging away slightly.

Naito, oblivious to the storm brewing behind him, continued his playful banter until Pantera finally stomped over, grabbed him by the arm, and dragged him back to the group.

"You're embarrassing us," Pantera hissed, her voice low and threatening.

Naito grinned, entirely unfazed. "Jealousy doesn't suit you, Pantera."

The girl's glare could have frozen lava. Tsuna decided it was best not to intervene

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As the night wore on, the banquet shifted into full swing. Servants moved gracefully among the guests, serving dishes that looked too beautiful to eat. Tsuna and his friends found a quieter corner where they could relax and enjoy the feast.

"This food is amazing," Pantera said between bites of a delicate pastry. "I could get used to this."

Raul smirked. "Don't get too comfortable. Knowing our luck, something's bound to happen."

Tsuna shook his head, trying to focus on the food rather than his growing unease. Yet, even as he sat among his friends, the weight of the evening lingered in his mind. The banquet was a dazzling display of power, but it also felt like a silent reminder of the world he had been thrust into—a world where every move mattered and alliances could mean the difference between survival and destruction.

Just as Tsuna was beginning to relax, Claudia reappeared, her voice carrying over the hum of the crowd. "Ladies and gentlemen," she announced, "the banquet has officially begun. Let us celebrate the bonds that unite us and look forward to a prosperous future for the famiglia."

The crowd erupted in applause, and the orchestra began a lively tune. As the festivities continued, Tsuna couldn't shake the feeling that this night was only the beginning of something much larger.

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Away from the glittering lights and elegant conversations of the banquet, in a hidden chamber deep within the Vongola branch headquarters, the atmosphere was anything but festive. Dimly lit by a few flickering candles and illuminated in eerie hues by the faint glow of mist flames, the chamber exuded an ominous air. Six figures stood in a loose semi-circle, their postures tense with a mixture of anticipation and calculated purpose.

Xanxus sat in the only chair in the room, its ornate design out of place in the stark setting. His massive frame leaned forward, his hands gripping the armrests tightly, his dark eyes burning with a volatile mix of fury and ambition. Around him were the core members of Varia: Squalo, Belphegor, Lussuria, Levi, and Mammon. Each carried an aura of lethality and unpredictability, a perfect representation of their infamy as the Vongola's most ruthless assassination squad.

Squalo, ever the strategist despite his brash demeanor, was the first to speak. His voice was low but charged with energy, reflecting the weight of the moment. "We've confirmed it. The old man is here tonight. This branch's security is nowhere near the level of the main HQ. If we're going to strike, this is our best chance."

Mammon, her small, cloaked figure nearly blending into the shadows, stepped forward. Her tone was calm and methodical, the voice of someone who had thought through every possible outcome. "Using my mist flames, we've already infiltrated fifty of our best into the branch. They're stationed at key points, disguised, and ready to move on your command. This operation has a 98% success rate."

Xanxus's lips curled into a slight smirk. "Good. Once that old fool Timoteo is dead, those other three weaklings—Enrico, Massino, Federico—will fall in line or be dealt with. They're nothing compared to me." His voice dropped, filled with venom. "The Vongola throne is mine, whether they like it or not."

Lussuria crossed his arms, his usual flamboyant demeanor replaced with a rare seriousness. "You've thought this through, right, boss? Taking down the Ninth is one thing, but claiming the throne is gonna shake the whole underworld. It'll draw attention from every Famiglia out there."

Belphegor chuckled softly, the grin on his face wide and unsettling. "The prince loves a good show. Let them come. The more chaos, the better." His blade-like teeth glinted as he laughed.

Levi, standing ramrod straight in his usual sycophantic stance, added fervently, "Xanxus-sama is the only one fit to lead the Vongola. I'll make sure everything goes perfectly. No one will stand in your way!"

Mammon's cold, calculating gaze shifted to Xanxus. "The coup's success depends on precision. We cannot afford to act recklessly. Every move has to count."

"Recklessly?" Xanxus spat, his smirk darkening. "That old man has been ruling like a coward for years, clinging to outdated ideals of peace and balance. This famiglia needs strength, not weakness. Once he's out of the way, I'll reshape it into something worthy of the Vongola name."

The room fell silent for a moment, but the tension was palpable. It wasn't the first time the Varia had gathered to discuss their ambitions, but tonight felt different. The stakes were higher. The endgame was within reach.

But just as they began reviewing the finer details of their strategy, a dangerous shift in Xanxus's mood became evident. His smirk disappeared, replaced by a scowl, his eyes narrowing as Claudia's earlier words about Timoteo replayed in his mind.

"That old bastard," he hissed, his voice low but filled with venom. His hands tightened on the armrests, the leather creaking under the pressure. "He's not my father. He lied to me my entire life—told me I was his blood, a true Vongola. And then he had the nerve to take it all back. To say I was adopted."

Xanxus's voice rose, growing louder with each word until it echoed in the chamber. "Adopted!" He slammed his fist onto the table beside him, the force splintering the wood. The other Varia members flinched, but none dared to speak.

Standing, Xanxus loomed over the others, his presence suffocating. His flames, a seething, crimson manifestation of Wrath, flickered to life around him. "He lied to me for years! He made me believe I was meant to inherit the Vongola throne. And then he had the gall to say I wasn't worthy because I'm not blood?!"

The room seemed to tremble under the weight of his rage. His words spilled out, venomous and unrestrained. "I don't care what he says. Blood or not, I'm stronger than any of those pathetic excuses for candidates. Enrico? A spineless politician. Massino? A glorified accountant. Federico? A weakling. They're all jokes! The throne belongs to me, and I'll take it by force if I have to."

Squalo stepped forward, his tone cautious but firm. "Boss, focus. We've got the plan, and we're ready to move. Don't let your anger cloud your judgment."

Xanxus glared at him but said nothing, his flames slowly subsiding. Mammon took the opportunity to speak. "The infiltration is complete. The banquet is our perfect cover. All that's left is your signal."

The group fell into a tense silence, the only sound the distant hum of the banquet above. Each of the Varia members was lost in their own thoughts, but their determination was shared.

Belphegor's grin widened as he whispered to himself, "The prince can't wait to see the bloodbath."

Lussuria sighed his expression a mix of apprehension and excitement. "This is gonna be a night to remember."

Levi saluted again, his devotion unwavering. "For Xanxus-sama, anything."

Xanxus sat back down, his gaze fixed on the ceiling as if he could see the banquet unfolding above. His voice was low but resolute. "Tonight, we take what's ours. The Vongola throne will be mine. And when it's over, they'll all kneel before me—or they'll burn."

With their plans set and their resolve hardened, the Varia prepared to make their move. Above them, the banquet continued in blissful ignorance, the attendees unaware of the storm brewing beneath their feet.

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The sound of clinking glasses and murmurs of conversation filled the room as Claudia raised her glass to quiet the banquet hall. The final echoes of applause for her introduction faded as the room fell into a respectful hush. The spotlight seemed to widen as she stepped forward, her silver gown shimmering under the chandeliers. Her poised, commanding presence naturally drew the eyes of every guest in the room.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Claudia's voice rang clear, a soft yet unyielding tone that echoed in every corner of the room. "Tonight, we gather not just to celebrate our past, but to acknowledge the future of our famiglia, and the leaders who will carry our legacy forward."

The guests, though absorbed in the glamorous atmosphere, knew well the weight of her words. There was a sense of reverence in the air as they waited for the next announcement.

"Please," Claudia continued, pausing for dramatic effect, "allow me to introduce to you the man who has steered this famiglia through decades of challenges, a man whose wisdom and strength have shaped the Vongola as we know it."

She stepped aside, her eyes flashing with a mix of admiration and pride as she motioned to the far side of the stage, where Timoteo Vongola, the Vongola Nono, appeared. His figure was regal yet tempered by age, a sharp contrast to the youthful energy of his guardians who flanked him. Each of them was an embodiment of strength, poise, and authority. The sudden shift in the atmosphere was palpable—the guests' eyes were fixed on him, their applause swelling louder and louder until it felt as if the entire building shook with the weight of their respect.

Timoteo raised his hand in a modest greeting, his expression one of both gratitude and humility as he slowly made his way to the podium. His cane clicked against the floor with each measured step, but there was no mistaking the sense of power he commanded. With a subtle nod, the applause died down, and a respectful silence followed.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Timoteo began, his voice rich and full, reverberating through the hall. "It is with great honor that we are gathered here tonight. For many years, the Vongola has stood as a beacon of leadership in our world. The loyalty and strength that you have shown are a testament to the bonds we have formed over time. But, as always, our journey is never solely about the past. We must look forward."

He paused, his gaze sweeping across the room, lingering on the faces of the Vongola's inner circle. Then, his eyes flicked toward the students seated near the back, including Tsuna. The momentary glance was fleeting, but there was something in it—an acknowledgment, perhaps, or the hint of something more.

"My friends," Timoteo continued, his voice steady, "the future of our famiglia rests in your hands. The young ones among us, the students of Mafia School, are the ones who will lead us into tomorrow. And tonight, we honor not just our past victories, but the future we will build together."

A soft murmur rippled through the crowd. Many of the guests exchanged knowing glances, some intrigued by Timoteo's words, others simply waiting for the next part of the evening to unfold. The older mafia dons, who had seen generations come and go, nodded approvingly at the sentiment. There was, after all, truth in his words.

Tsuna, seated with the other students, couldn't help but feel the weight of those words press against his chest. The future? He had only just begun to understand the world of the mafia. And yet, here he was, surrounded by some of the most powerful individuals in the world, expected to one day take up a mantle he still couldn't quite grasp.

His attention shifted as Timoteo continued, "But our future will be shaped not only by our strength and loyalty but by our unity. Together, we stand strong. And as I look toward the next generation of our famiglia, I know you will all carry that strength forward."

A final round of applause erupted, the room shaking with appreciation. The orchestra picked up their instruments, filling the air with soft, triumphant music that heralded the beginning of the evening's festivities. Tsuna found himself clapping along, but the unease gnawing at him didn't fade. There was something about Timoteo's gaze that lingered in his mind—something far heavier than the praises he had just offered.

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Xanxus stood far away from the jubilant scene, his hand gripping the armrest of the chair with a vice-like force. His eyes were fixed on the banquet, watching as the Vongola Nono basked in the applause, unaware of the storm about to break over their heads. The resentment simmered within him—resentment for the man who had always held power, for the world that continued to overlook him, for the legacy that was never meant for him.

A cold smile spread across his face as he stood, his thoughts dark and relentless. The time for patience was over. No more would he stand in the shadows. It was time to take what was rightfully his.

His fingers brushed against the hidden device in his pocket, tapping it with deliberate precision. At the signal, the first wave of his Varia infiltrators moved into position. Their eyes were cold, their expressions hidden behind masks as they emerged from the shadows, merging with the crowd. The chaos was about to begin.

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Back in the banquet hall, the guests were beginning to relax, some already drifting into conversations, others eagerly awaiting the food and entertainment. The orchestra played softly in the background, a sense of false peace hanging over them.

Suddenly, the sound of a gunshot shattered the tranquility.

The music faltered, then stopped entirely as more gunshots followed—sharp, loud cracks that tore through the air with terrifying force. The guests screamed in panic, scattering as armed figures emerged from the corners of the room, their guns raised, their movements precise and calculated.

"Get down!" someone shouted as the Varia members—masked and armed—flooded into the hall. Their uniforms were pristine, but their eyes burned with a cold, ruthless intensity. The elite infiltrators quickly spread throughout the room, securing key exits and eliminating anyone who dared to resist.

Tsuna's heart skipped a beat as he looked around, his mind reeling. What was happening? Was this some sort of attack?

And then, amidst the chaos, Tsuna saw Xanxus. The figure stood at the top of a staircase, watching the carnage unfold below with an almost detached amusement. His eyes locked onto Tsuna's for a brief moment, the flames of Wrath flickering behind his gaze.

The final piece fell into place as the realization struck Tsuna. This was a coup.

A chill ran down his spine. Would they survive this storm? Would anyone?