DISCLAIMER: I do not own Katekyo Hitman Reborn or the Mafia.

CLAIMER: I do, however, own this idea and whatnot.

SPOILERS: It takes place after the Ten Year Later arc… after it supposedly ends jolly and cheerful and our heroes are put back where they belong.

NOTES: Naaa… all the fan fiction is melding in my brain with the actual series… this isn't good… Anyways, this takes place after Tsuna and Company fix the future and all that jazz. Things are good for our favorite mafia family during the fifteen year skip from pre-TYL (where I assume they'll return to once everything's FIXED… because the protagonists always win in the end, admit it) to when this takes place. For mor information on this universe, I have an (albeit crappy) one-shot sort-of pertaining to this called "The Zoo", if you want to check that out as well. Ya don't need to, but I enjoy reviews. Like, I really, really enjoy reviews.

Zio Hayato

It was a day in early spring, right before the bloom of Tsuna's imported cherry blossoms and yet the wind had not quite decided to give up its chill. At the Vongola Compound, in her utmost secret location in Italy, a meeting of the Cosa Nostra was under way.

Well, not exactly under way. Tsuna, being as composed as ever, literally had a miniature freak-out when both Kyoya and Chrome came—a rarity ever since Kyoya and Mukuro had a falling out a few years prior and refused to speak to one another unless one of them was dying (which immediately landed the eternally-sweet Chrome into many difficult situations that was mostly solved by near-isolation from the other Guardians). Since then, the actual meeting itself was put under hold until the Sky could come to grips with everything once again and properly dole out orders. He may have been the Tenth Vongola for fifteen years, but some parts of Tsuna never changed.

This left the Vongola Compound eerily silent as the Guardians went their temporarily separate ways. Rarely did they ever have time to themselves in the Italian countryside and most had come to consensus that they were going to enjoy themselves on the glorious occasion of Tsuna's meltdown. They learned over the years that these moments of character-relapse were precious and not to be wasted.

That day, the only one not out was Gokudera. Although he was the Tenth's right-hand man, he had gathered the wisdom that a little bit of air away from business and anyone but Kyoko around would do his boss good. A bachelor, Gokudera had no woman to play with, which suited him just fine for the moment, nor did he care to go and find some tail to chase. All he wanted at that moment was the drapes drawn, the fine feather pillow and the comfiest couch in the entire compound for the entire afternoon. Quiet, simple bliss.

SSSSSSHHHNAK—the drapes were pulled open. Damn.

"Hahiii Goku-oji!" sang a high-pitched voice. "We're bored!"

Oh yeah, the rest of the Guardians ended up bringing their children due to some school break. Damn it.

"…'bina, Tesora, Zio Hayato needs the drapes closed and you to leave," Hayato muttered as he rolled over on the couch. Without warning, a mob of children began jumping on him to make sure he was awake.

"Come on Goku-oji! The day is so extremely awesome today!"

"Could you please get up Zio Hayato? It's already after lunch."

"Y-yeah… all the other grown-ups are gone."

"Roku-san's right! You're no fun at all!"

The final child, unfortunately, just bit Gokudera's leg.

After throwing the children of his fellow Guardians off and suppressing the urge to curse loudly at the top of his lungs, Gokudera took a deep breath and assessed the situation. No matter how he looked at it, the amount of quality time today he was going to spend with the most comfortable couch in Vongola history was running short to nil. He was face-to-face with the most aggravating of prepubescent gangsters he had ever come across, which was saying something considering he still had nightmares about watching over the Chiavorone spawn.

That's all they ever were… spawn. Those things the others made to further get on his nerves without being present. Hardcore mafia men, such as Gokudera, never understood the appeal of children. Hell, Lambo, a Guardian no less, was a nuisance until he was about fifteen. What was going to make this pint-sized crew any better?

Oh… wait… shit. Obligation.

Damn it.

"Alright, fine, let's play," Gokudera sighed. Most of the kids cheered, the rest had evil grins on their faces.

"What are we going to play first?" the children asked, pretty much all in unison.

"Guess Who's Sleeping," Gokudera yawned. "I'll go first." He flopped back down on the couch and shut his eyes. The game lasted all of two seconds before a strong set of jaws morphed the game from a storybook fancy into a round of very angry tag.

AN: I apologize if the kids don't sound like what normal little kids sound like. My model for a child is kind of geeky and has an enormous vocabulary for a third-grader.