La Famiglia

A/N A short preview of what I had in mind for this fic. This is only something I'm editing to try and help get my writing style back to the way it was. Might rewrite it later on if I have the time. (If you want more information on why I'm doing this check out my profile.)

Prologue

Elma. That was the name her mother originally gave her. It was about a month after her birth, while wandering aimlessly through the streets near 'La Sirena di Venere', that the woman came to her senses enough to finally name her.

Back then the woman had been one of the many prostitutes of 'La Sirena di Venere', a popular brothel that was mockingly known as a 'service motel' by the nearby residents. She hadn't been well liked but had made enough in the sense she could keep a few coins worth of pocket change in her purse for emergencies.

That pocket change became almost nonexistent after Elma's birth. Because she had no friends within the brothel after Elma had been born, the woman had left her with Fina, the whorehouse's owner, on nights she had had customers. Whilst Fina only took the time to feed and change Elma she deducting a fair few bills from the woman's pay in exchange.

When the cost became too much the woman packed up her few belongings and headed out to the streets.

A fool she was. It only took a week for the money to run out. But still, the woman stubbornly refused to go back and endured. She was fortunate Elma was a quiet baby. Otherwise, they might not have had their relatively peaceful days in the alleyways.

By some miracle, they both managed to survive for quite some time. To someone who had become accustomed to silk sheets and glittering accessories, the streets should have been nothing less than hell. But surprisingly the woman adapted well as did Elma who would grow to know nothing more.

Once Elma could toddle well enough, the woman allowed her to explore the roads while she picked up customers. With her newfound freedom, Elma wiggled her way through dog holes, peeked into shop windows and swiped discarded food scraps from the market floors. She only had until sundown to return to where the woman was waiting so she made the most of what little time she had.

She came to know the other beggars nearby while exploring. In exchange for whatever she had found that day a few would be willing to teach her a few of their tricks.

There was one elderly beggar she had gotten to know who taught her how to read and write. Her mother was illiterate so she counted herself lucky that he was willing to teach her for a few scraps of food a day.

But not everyone on the streets was like the elderly beggar. They neither had the skills or patience to deal with a random street rat. Most of the time, Elma had to make a run for it if she didn't want to lose her scraps.

It was during one of those days that she met a fellow street rat. There turned out to be a small group of them who huddled together to survive. They were more willing to share their tricks than the adults.

For scraps and her well worn out shoes, they taught her all of what they knew. Like roots to go to when avoiding the police, ways to pick a lock with only a blunt needle and how to pickpocket without getting caught. They even let her practice with them until she was good enough on her own.

Through spring to autumn Elma would be able to help her mother like this somehow but in winter she had no way.

The cold was too much for her and pickpocketing was almost impossible when her targets had their hands firmly in their pockets. By then even the number of her mother's customers would decrease as well, leaving them with barely anything.

With no money for matches or even food, she and her mother spent hours huddled up to conserve what little body heat they had.

During those harsh winters, Elma wanted nothing more than a steady source of heat. She just wanted something to make the shivering go away…

For years she and her mother had to endure the freezing cold, coming close to death at times when the snow piled up for days. It was during a particularly snowy winter when a spark of orange appeared from her hands. The warmth of the flame slowly spread across her palms and over the tips of her fingers until finally consuming the whole of her hands.

In excitement, Elma showed it to her mother in hopes of warming her. Her mother smiled so happily once she saw her flames. She told her all sorts of lies. Lies Elma knew were false hopes and delusions.

But still, she didn't say anything. Because a side of her also hoped that some part of her mother's ramblings were true. That she had a father. That she had a home beside the streets.

Her name was suddenly changed from Elma to Xara. A small factor that she forgot relatively quickly as her mother showered her with the affection she never knew. She treasured every moment of her dear mamma's affections. The hugs, kisses, and warmth she gave so freely now.

A few days later a man with greying hair came looking for her. Her mother made her show him her flames. He looked surprised but other than that he looked at her kindly.

"I gave her the name Xara because she is the princess who will become the tenth Vongola Boss. "

Once the flames were gone the cold seeped back in. He noticed her shivers and wrapped his scarf around her neck. The scarf he gave her was warm as was the hand that lead her away from her mother.

"What about mamma?" She asked tugging on his sleeves to try and get him to turn around.

He doesn't and only says that 'mamma' couldn't come with them.

Elma turned around to try and call out to her mother but the woman only waved at her with a smile. One that embedded itself in her memories forever.