Chapter 2! Enjoy

Disclaimer: KHR and all characters belong to Akira Amano.

~Italia... Here I Am...~

I'm beginning to think I have rotten luck in life in general. Sure, maybe I catch a few lucky breaks here and there, but then, as if the universe realizes that it made a mistake, I get twice as much misfortune. I swear the world thinks that it only turns right if Haru is miserable.

The plane ride was excellent. I was pampered like a queen! Unlimited crab, caviar, and wine. Rich, succulent veal, and a dark chocolate mousse that I'm sure almost sent me straight to heaven. I've never dined so finely in all my years of living. The attendants also provided me with comfortable blankets and gave me a massage to help me fall asleep. The fifteen hour flight that would have caused me great discomfort and annoyance instead made me feel like I was floating on air, and I was rather disappointed when the pilot announced that we would be landing soon and I should put my seatbelt on. I knew there was no way anything that good could happen to me ever again, and I lamented the fact that inevitably, I would be pulled back down to earth and have to continue living my dull life.

Unfortunately, everything that came after was the exact opposite. It was like all the peace and happiness I experienced on that plane was automatically reversed. Like I said, for everything good that happens to me, anything twice as bad must also occur to balance out the system. Don't ask me why. That's just the way it is.

I left the private plane and sauntered into the Italian airport hoping to find a nice bathroom in which I could relieve myself. Most of the trip, I never felt like I had to go, but as soon as we landed, it was as if my bladder caught up to me and suddenly I needed to go. Urgently.

My first mistake was when I decided not to use the bathroom of the private plane. Instead, I headed straight for the bathrooms in the airport. I took my carry-on in the stall with me since my most precious belongings were in there, but I left my suitcase by the sinks, assuming it would be fine.

How wrong was I.

Upon flushing and washing my hands, the first thing I noticed was my suitcase. Or rather, the lack of my suitcase. It was like it had just disappeared. Gasping, I ran out of the bathroom and looked around, trying to see if I could find it. But I couldn't see much of anything. Huge masses of people were walking in all directions so the little thief definitely had a safe getaway. Of course I should've been more careful! I made such a noob mistake. You never separate from your luggage when traveling to a foreign country. And what made it worse was that the thief knew how to escape. This was a prime destination for several people, especially during the summer and with the huge bustle of people crowding the airport, there was no way I would be able to find the little bugger.

Growling I shook my head and gave up craning my head to see if I could find my beloved suitcase. There went my best heels and the pricey dresses I literally spent months to save up for. All my clothes were in there as well as my underwear and my grooming supplies. Now I would have to buy all new things and spend even more money.

Suddenly exhausted, I slumped down onto a bench, digging through my carry-on to see if everything seriously important was in there. I had to make sure that giving up the search for my suitcase was okay and that I didn't leave anything of terrible importance in one of the pockets. My passport, wallet, ID, badge, cell phone, a pair of expensive earrings I hadn't bothered to put back on after passing security, my mother's old wedding ring, and the letter from the Vongola.

Sighing in relief, I realized that at least I hadn't lost anything seriously important and stood up again, knowing that I had to contact the Gokudera person to find him so that I could get to the mansion. I still had to get to the place, even if my suitcase was gone. So walking aimlessly, I put my phone to my ear and listened to the dial tone, waiting for him to pick up.

Mistake number two.

I should have figured with all the bustling and hustling happening around me that standing in the middle would only be putting me in danger. I couldn't even react when it happened. Suddenly, I was pushed roughly forward, my head snapping backwards as I tumbled to the ground. I instantly let go of everything in my hands to catch my fall.

"Mi dispiace!" I heard someone yell in my direction.

I looked up at the woman who was sprinting with her son toward security check in and though I was initially angry, I realized she probably was going to miss her flight and no longer cared. Well, at least until I looked down and looked at my cellphone.

Correction: What was left of my cellphone.

"Well, there goes my phone call..." I grumbled.

I groaned and picked up the sleek, shiny phone I had received from my boss at work after I had completed my first year as a wedding planner. That was almost 5 years ago. Sighing, I dumped the remains in a nearby trash bin, realizing I had to buy a new one using the money from my own pocket. I couldn't believe that in one day, I had lost almost all of my wardrobe and every expensive shoe I owned, eighty five percent of my jewelry, all my underwear, AND an expensive cellphone.

Whatever happiness I had experienced on the plane ride had officially been wiped out. Realizing I still had to call the Gokudera person, I was about to head to an ATM and exchange some cash for coins so I could make a collect call to the number, but I stopped myself. I wasn't about to let another mishap occur by using the ATM, so I went to a Starbucks nearby to exchange a bill for a couple of coins. The cashier knew some Japanese, though communication was rough, but in the end, using gestures and holding up some coins I found at the base of my bag, we finally understood each other and she handed me my coins.

"Grazie." I tested out my Italian and smiled a bit when she gave me an amused smile in return, probably at the falsity of my accent and pronunciation. But she didn't laugh, and I was grateful for that. I turned around to find a payphone to contact my ride with, thinking I was soon to get out of the airport with no more incidents, and looking forward to a hot shower and a plush bed after fifteen hours on a plane.

I spoke too soon.

A little boy who had been bringing coffee to his family tripped and his coffee miraculously landed on my shirt and the front of my capris. I barely blinked. I knew something like that was bound to happen and when it did, I only sighed in annoyance, having expected it. He looked up at me with frightened eyes and feeling bad, knowing that my eyes probably looked annoyed, I smiled warily but tightly at him and shook my head, trying to let him know I wasn't mad. He looked like he was about to cry so I bent down and patted his head before reaching down and picking up the spilt cups from the ground and dumping them. I reached into my pocket and handed him a bill so he could buy the coffee again and he scampered off to get it, turning back around to smile at me. I smiled back at him, and grabbed chunks of napkins, trying to wipe what I could. I was able to get rid of the worst of it, but there was a conspicuous stain all over the front. Officially giving up on salvaging the rest of the day, I left the small Starbucks, my mood stormy.

Hadn't the universe had enough messing with me already?! I didn't know if I could take any more of this. It was killing me. I had to find a phone right away. I couldn't stay in the airport looking like this. I didn't have any clothes with me since my suitcase was stolen so I would have to traipse about, looking as if I had issues with my bladder.

Looking around frantically for a payphone of any kind, I walked toward the entrance of the airport, an area that was wider and more vacant than the bustling hullabaloo that I had just left. And then I saw it.

My bright pink suitcase, standing there, looking so helpless and lost. There was hope for me yet! Ignoring the odd looks people gave me – no doubt they thought I had a wee little accident – I rushed over to the bag, hoping desperately for it to be my beloved suitcase and items. I grasped the handle and picked it up, almost crying out loud when I saw my name tag on the bag and the cute little keychain of a drunken neko I attached to it.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

I was startled by the voice and looked up, only to find myself being glared at by a towering man with silver hair in the shape of… well, an octopus? It wasn't so much that I was startled by the man himself as by the fact that he was speaking in Japanese. Rude Japanese, but Japanese still. I stared at him for a while, just simply flabbergasted at his appearance. He didn't look Japanese, his eyes were blue/green and his hair was silver, but his accent was pure.

"Are you deaf or something? I asked you a question. Why the hell are you trying to take a bag that doesn't belong to you?"

I stood up straight and shook my head to clear my jumbled thoughts, "Oh, that is, um. This is my bag. I've been looking for it."

"So you're Haru Miura?"

A smiled, friendly, "Yes, I am. And you are?"

His glare intensified and he stared me down, a look of disgust on his face. "Are you a fucking idiot?"

I was taken aback and I took a step back at his brash tone and extremely rude words. I didn't even know this clown and he was insulting me.

"You call me and then you just suddenly hang up. And then to make matters worse, I find your suitcase in the men's bathroom for whatever reason!"

I glared up at him, all welcoming and polite attitudes gone down the drain. I was planning to be jovial and polite to this man, but it seemed he had no intention of being polite himself. He just pissed off the wrong Haru.

"My bag was stolen for your information and when I called you, I was knocked to the ground and my cell phone broke." My voice was firm and steely. I scoffed in disgust, returning his scathing glare with equal ferocity. "I'm assuming you're Gokudera. I would really appreciate it if you could stop being such a rude asshole. I've already had enough of a bad day as you can clearly see from my appearance. I don't need you making it any worse. So could you kindly shut the hell up and escort me to my ride?"

Silent, and looking a bit surprised, he stared down at me still with mistrust in his eyes for a second before spinning on his heels and walking towards the entrance of the airport. He didn't even take my bag, the jerk. Not to mention his legs were longer than mine and he took long, even strides, forcing me to speed walk to keep up with him, a feat made more difficult by the fact that I also had to carry my giant suitcase. I contented myself with sticking my tongue at his back every couple of seconds. Maybe I wasn't being mature, but hey. He started it!

We reached a parking deck and he unlocked a sleek black car, before getting in the driver's side, grabbing a cigarette from the glove compartment and lighting it effortlessly. I could tell he'd been doing this for a while now. Sliding my suitcase into the backseat of the car, I climbed in after I had situated it nicely, my nose wrinkling from the acrid scent of cigarette. It was all over the car, not to mention, Gokudera didn't seem to want to open the windows to let some fresh air in. The engine purred to life and we peeled out of the garage airport.

We weren't exactly on good terms from the start so I had to be careful how I worded my question, "Um, Gokudera, could you-"

"Since you've already wasted enough of my time today, as soon as we arrive, you are to meet the bride and groom, understand?"

I rose an eyebrow, turning toward him in disbelief. We'd literally been acquainted for ten minutes and this asswipe had almost succeeded in prying out Bitch Haru. Was he trying to bring out my bad side? He was asking to get smacked! He really was! There was only so much I could take, and with my already sour mood, he was making it worse. I wanted to make a good first impression with the bride and groom to be, but that wasn't going to happen if he kept feeding my anger. I clenched my jaw and willed myself not to react and ignore him. The old me might have attacked him with no hesitation, but the new me was going to be mature about this. If he wanted to act like a butt, by all means, he could go right ahead. I had other things to worry about besides a PMSing asshole who had no qualms insulting women he barely knew.

Without a word, I lowered the window to let in some fresh air, not caring whether he wanted it lowered or not.

The ride to the mansion was smooth, and quiet, only the purring of his engine drifting into my ears. I watched the gorgeous scenery go by as we swiftly made our way to the mansion. It was early summer so trees were bright and green and the sky was clear blue, no clouds to block its beauty. The air was warm and pacifying, and I leaned my head against the window sill, loving the feel of the wind rushing past me. Italy was beautiful. I felt like I could really grow to love this place. And it seemed like the perfect place to become The New Haru Miura. With that thought in my mind, my eyes began to grow heavy and I felt myself drift into a peaceful sleep.

This chapter was already beginning to get long and dull so I cut it short. But here you are! The Gokudera and Haru first meeting! Yupp, they barely had any interaction and definitely got off on the wrong foot. You're probably disappointed by it, but have no fear ;) The fun has yet to begin!