Oh. Wow. So...this is short, even by my standards. This fiction was inspired/based off of Ten years is a long time by zigolo, so if you liked this fic, stop by and read zigolo's as well if you haven't already :) I really liked the idea, and was plagued by the idea of rewriting it and adding tweaks here and there /cough1827. I'm not sure if I can continue this, but I do have several ideas that keep on cropping up.

I apologize if there are currently an abundance of these kind of fics. It won't hurt to have one more, right? D:

An eye-catching red banner greeted the ex-students of Class 1-B, the words "Class Reunion of 20XX, welcome!"

"This brings back so many memories."

"Yeah, remember when Enomoto-sensei use to force us to practice with the girls when we 'misbehaved?' Man, that was sweet!"

"Ew, gross! I remember how you did that on purpose just so you could sneak into our locker room! Pervert!"

"Aw man, they swapped my desk! I carved my initials in that one..."

Dohachiro Nezu cleared his throat. Even though the classroom was teeming with adults who were in their early twenties, they were just as rowdy as his usual 8th grade students.

"I know everyone is excited, but please return to your seats so I can call roll."

There was some awkward shuffling as the ex-students tried to remember where they sat. Eventually, Nezu had to pull out their old seating chart to direct everyone to their seats.

"It seems that your memories are starting to fail you, even at this ripe age," Nezu said amusedly, and he was met with a chorus of good-natured chuckles and a couple of boos.

"First, Naito Longchamp!"

"Hiya, teach!" A wild-haired male who sat in the front row waved at Nezu. The teacher raised a brow. Naito had never done well in his class, though he did have a touch for gathering sympathy from his classmates. After that being said, he had no idea why his ex-student was wearing an expensive suit that rivaled those of his successful classmates who had became lawyers or doctors.

"Kaneda Osamu!" Nezu continued as he shrugged off his thoughts. Maybe he borrowed it, or was involved in some underground work.

"Here, Dohachiro-sama." Osamu's greeting roused some snickers as they all recalled that certain incident that involved a kendo sword and makeup.

"Very funny," Nezu replied drily as he continued with the list. "Mochida!"

"Here." A hand was raised in the back, and there was one or two squeals. Apparently, time had treated Mochida well, and he looked like the standard stud. He wore the same suit as Naito.

"Kurokawa Hana!"

"Here." A young woman raised her hand. It took a while for the teacher to recognize his former student. Hana had cropped off her long locks, opting for a sophisticated, shorter hairstyle instead.

"Gokudera Hayato!" Nezu frowned when there was no answer. He remembered the delinquent quite well. He had done excellently on all of his tests, never missing a question, even when he had assigned him college-level questions on purpose. If only his personality matched his grades, than Hayato would have been one of his favorite students.

"Hayato-sama isn't here?" A woman sighed as she nudged her friend. "He was pretty hot too..."

"I know! The foreign charm of his looks..."

Suddenly, a collective, dreamy sigh sounded through the room. It seemed that half of the girls in the class were once a part of Gokudera's fan club.

"Yamamoto Takeshi!" There were no replies to that name either. Nezu's frown deepened. Takeshi was one of his favorite students, even if the baseball player only had mediocre grades.

"Like, the famous baseball star Yamamoto Takeshi?"

"Oh my gosh, he was in our class!"

Squeals arose from majority of the females again. A couple of the males were scowling, most noticeably Mochida.

"Sawada Tsunayoshi!"

There were confused whispers at the called out name.

"Who's that?"

"Tsunayoshi? I don't remember someone named that..."

"Me neither."

Hana rolled her eyes and decided to jog their memory a bit. "Don't you remember? Short kid, spiky brown hair? Always running around in his boxers...Dame-Tsuna?"

"Ohhh..." the class echoed together.

"That hentai!"

"I remember him," Osamu sneered. "Didn't he fail in the love confession to Kyoko-chan?"

"But wasn't there a rumor that he was going out with Kyoko in high school?" a student asked.

"Ehh? Dame-Tsuna? No way. That loser failed at everything! Education, sports, and even socially!"

"He was pretty pathetic," another male commented. "I bet he's working at some crappy job, if he managed to get one that is."

The class joined in snickers.

Hana rolled her eyes again. A certain someone had told her that her eyes were extremely going to stay that way if she kept on doing that, but it was like an unconscious reflex to stupidity. If only they knew.

Nezu pinched the bridge of his nose. Of course, so it was that Dame-Tsuna they were talking about. The one that had almost cost him his job, but hey, at least he had come out a better man for it.

"But wasn't he always hanging out with Takeshi-kun and Hayato-sama?"

The discussion was halted short when the current occupants of class 1-B covered their ears at a loud, roaring sound.

When the noise finally subsided, there was a faint sound of footsteps that was gradually growing louder.

"No doubt, they probably heard us by now." There was a sigh.

"Who was the bastard that insisted on taking the helicopter?"

"Now, now, Hayato-kun. Don't forget that Giannini accidentally broke all of our air bikes and Spanner is currently in the process of modifying our cars. We should thank Hibari-san for letting us use his helicopter."

"I'll never motherfucking thank that bastard, ever."

"Maa, maa, Hayato! We're supposed to have fun today, haha!"

"Oi, baseball idiot! I never came here to have fun! I came here to accompany the Tenth! Those crazy fangirls are going to be all over your ass, you know?"

"Haha, are you jealous?"

"N-Never!"

"Aw, because I am!"

"S-shut up, baseball idiot!"

"Hayato-kun, hide those dynamites, quick. Hibari-san, please don't get carried away, I need all of my guardians alive—"

The door opened with a loud crack against the wall, revealing four males and one female. Even from a distance, anyone could see the clear tonfa indention in the wood.

The first male visible was one that the ex-students never quite forgot. He was wearing a purple dress shirt underneath a black suit fitted with a matching tie, casually blowing off some dust on his silver weapons before placing them back in their hidden compartments. Instead of the neatly combed hairstyle he had sported back in their middle and high school years, he now sported shorter tresses cut wildly, but attractively.

Unbeknownst to the ex-prefect, he also had a fan club solely dedicated to him, one which of several members were sneakily taking out their phones.

The sharp glare from his steel blue eyes rendered almost everyone in the room speechless and incapable of doing anything else but stare.

Well, almost everyone.

"Yo, Hiba-chan!" The entire female population in the room excluding two turned to glare at Naito.

"Don't address Hibari-sama so casually like that!" a girl hissed.

Hibari wore a face of bored indifference. "Do I know you?"

Naito was almost sent to tears, but there was no one around to shoot him with a Desolation bullet.

"Get too rowdy, and I'll bite you to death." Several people shivered at the unpleasant memories that were associated with the catchphrase. The ex-prefect went to his seat near the window. Nobody questioned why he was at the 20XX reunion when he was 2 years older than the rest of them.

He was Hibari Kyouya, dammit.

Now that the raven-haired male had left his position, there was no one to bar the former students' view.

It would be an understatement to say that they were just gaping in unsolicited surprise.

Two males flanked a shorter, more slender male, and a very familiar orange-haired female stood off to the side.

Nezu forcibly closed his jaw. "Sasagawa Kyoko?"

The female smiled warmly. "It's certainly nice to see you again, Nezu-sensei."

Kyoko had always excelled in every department, and had been the school idol, the most popular girl—and she had grown into a women bestowed with the gift of natural beauty. She met the eyes of the shorter male, whose face the ex-class couldn't see because it was tilted, smiling happily as the male gestured that it was okay for her to sit down. She immediately made her way towards Kurokawa Hana—her seat was right next to her best friend.

Nezu swallowed and returned his gaze to the remaining three men, two of which wore the same type of expensively tailored suit as Hibari was, only that one was wearing a blue shirt underneath and one of wearing a red one.

Gokudera Hayato was extremely easy to pick out—his conspicuous silver hair gave him away. His fingers were toying with an unlit cigarette as his emerald eyes flashed in a way that made his admirers inwardly scream in delight.

Yamamato Takeshi was easy to recognize as well—he had very recently won an award for his short but record-loaded career. He had a scar on his chin, but it somehow went along with his tanned, all-natural looks. His easy-going smile made some girls swoon.

The male in the middle was the one in need for questioning. He sported somewhat-familiar spiky brown locks, and now that his face was turned towards them, they could clearly see the angles and details of his handsome face. His honey brown eyes were utterly captivating, full of inviting warmth and yet, touched with something dark that they couldn't put a finger on. For some reason, the adults felt that if they squinted their eyes hard enough, they could catch some feminine features.

The male was gorgeous, and highly appealing to both genders.

"Buongiorno—I mean, ohayo, Nezu-sensei. It's been a long time, sorry we were a little late. This is a bad first re-impression, isn't it?" The male gave a chuckle, a melodious, mesmerizing sound that was easy on the ears.

"And who might you be?" Nezu asked confusedly. He had racked his mind for all possibilities, and not one struck valid.

"Huh?" the brunet blinked as he pointed to himself. "Do you not recognize me, Nezu-sensei?"

The science teacher shook his head.

The silver-haired male snorted. "Would you like me to clarify for him, Tenth?" Terror seized the ex-students, even though the scathing glare was directed at their ex-teacher.

"No, it's okay. I'm Sawada Tsunayoshi. Ah, I guess I wasn't that impressive in my teenage years, huh?" There was another laugh as the male brushed aside his fringe and smiled sheepishly. "You guys knew me as Dame-Tsuna."

"..."

"You've got to be fucking kidding me."

Nezu didn't bother to reprimand whoever spoke up in disbelief, because that was exactly what he was feeling at the moment.

"Why, is there a problem?" the silver-haired male said in a deadly calm voice. The adults gulped. Normally, the regular Gokudera would draw out his dynamites and blow them all up in his rage, but strangely, this composed Gokudera looked, sounded, and felt more dangerous, like his entire composure was the calm before the storm.

This time, nothing blew up—but someone else did walk in.

"Nice to see you again, Class of 1-B. I am Reboyama."

Buongiorno - good morning in Italian

Ohayo - good morning in Japanese

I usually don't use random romaji in my fics, but it made more sense to put it in there, mainly because he was switching languages.

I tried to keep everything as canon as possible (yes, their class is really 1-B). All the character names listed in this fiction are real (manga-wise). Reborn wikia ftw, btw 8D. Kudos to me for using Longchamp? Naito (I know he was annoying, but still...to cut him out of the anime completely...D:)

I didn't add reactions like "omgwtf*le gasp*," because...well, it hurts me to write it. I hope I didn't accent too much on their appearances (I probably did, but oh well. That's a good thing, sort of). You all know that canon TYL! Tsuna is a total bishie with a manly voice and most definitely the looks to go with it.

So nothing here, surprisingly, is yaoi. Unless you count that slight 8059 tidbit. Which really didn't count. As usual, I'll be converting this fic to 1827 if I ever continue it...;D Can't resist the call of my OTP. Drop me a line c: