title: And Set the World On Fire
Author: bellumina
Requester: demoerin
Pairing(s)/Character(s): Xanxus/Squalo
Rating/Warning(s): PG-13ish.
Author's Notes: Terribly sorry it's late, buuut hopefully it's long enough to make up for it? |D



The weather is cold and wet; most people would have left by now, but Superbi Squalo is not most people, and he is determined.

"Uooooiii!" he shouts above the howling wind and the torrential downpour. "Uoooooii! Are you coming out, or do I have to come to you, sword emperor?! Don't tell me you're scared!!!" He is alone. There will be no spectators for this fight, if the sword emperor -- the leader of the Vongola's special assassin squad -- chooses to take up the challenge. And why shouldn't he? Squalo knows he'll be underestimated, and that is the best advantage he could ever have. Shigure Souen style -- who needs that if you've got Squalo's analytical mind and his unfettered talent?

It is silent for a few moments afterwards; Squalo knows his words have not been swallowed by the storm. He and the rain work together, and he considers this a good omen for his fight. Not that he needs any help: Squalo is the best, and soon, he'll be the best by title.

Then a door creaks open, and Squalo's sharp ears pick up the sound. The leader of the varia has arrived, dressed impeccably. He is ready for a fight, and he looks ready to win.

"I don't usually fight people so young," the emperor states, unsheathing his sword leisurely. "But I suppose if you wish to throw your life away, then who am I to say no?" He does not bother smiling and instead looks bored, annoyed that he's being taken away from more important activities to fight this upstart of a swordsman. Squalo notices that he's lacking a hand -- he wonders what that means, but the emperor is already pointing the sword at him. He stands there, motionless.

Squalo grins. "If you're not going to go, I'll attack myself!" he yells, and charges.

The fight begins.

--

He stumbles back to his home in the dead of night. He's wounded in dozens of places, but he hardly feels the pain. Blood flows freely from his arms, his chest, his back, his legs, even his face -- but Squalo knows (oh yes, he knows) that he's won. He is the sword emperor now, and that's something to make him forget about all the injuries he has sustained.

The Varia are impressed by him. Some are shocked and appalled, others are pleased to have some new blood shed the blood of the old. He is not the leader of the Varia yet, but he will be. In due time, he will be, and for once, Squalo is willing to wait.

He has lost his key somewhere during the fight -- no matter. Xanxus is at home, and he will let him in. Squalo rings the bell three times. He is not surprised when Xanxus takes his time to come open the door. The man doesn't want to seem over-eager, after all, and Squalo probably would have done the same. The door finally creaks open, and Xanxus stands there in a comfortable navy blue robe with a cigarette in hand. Squalo hates it when he smokes in the house -- it stinks up the damn place, but Xanxus does what he pleases, and sometmies, Squalo thinks he only continues to smoke because it pisses Squalo off.

"You're back." Xanxus doesn't seem unhappy or pleased or disgusted. In fact, he doesn't seem to care much that Squalo's back at all. But the intensity in his eyes tells a different story than the clear-as-day apathy shown in his voice and expression, and Squalo grins. It is a tired grin, bloodflecked and painful, but it shows his glee all the same.

"I won," he gloats. He has the right to, he thinks, and Xanxus ought to understand that. "Uooooii, aren't you going to congratulate me?! Now when you become the boss, you'll have a loyal follower in the Varia -- as the leader, no less!"

Xanxus stares at him balefully. "Have they made you leader yet?"

Squalo's enthusiasm dioes not deflate, though perhaps that is Xanxus's aim. "No, but they will!! Believe me."

Xanxus snorts. "No one in their right mind would put you in charge of anything, scumbag." He takes a step back from the doorway after a long moment, however, and eyes the mess of blood and rainwater pooling on his doorstep. "You're making a fucking mess. Get yourself cleaned up and make sure you don't get anything on the damn carpets. If you do, you'll be the one cleaning."

He leaves him, not offering to help, and Squalo feels his ecstacy ebb away into the dark recesses of his mind. Xanxus will see, he thinks. Squalo will get that position, and Xanxus will have no choice but to acknowledge that he deserves it more than any other idiot out there.

But for now, he tiptoes across the floor, trying not to leave a single mark on the rug he can't yet afford to clean.

---

Squalo's wounds are healing, mending themselves and leaving hardly any traces in their wake. The scars are a pale pink, and Squalo is proud of them. They are proof of his winning battle, proof that he, Squalo, is truly the best. But Xanxus is becoming antsier and antsier. Squalo does not like this change, and when Xanxus leaves for several days, he is glad that he finally has the house to himself.

The dishes pile up in the sink; still Xanxus does not return, and Squalo resorts to eating food with a toothpick when all the cutlery has been dirtied. Without Xanxus around, it doesn't make sense for him to do any work. Not to him, anyway.

But it's his misfortune that he's leaning back in an armchair, mouth open and snoring loudly when Xanxus returns a week later than he was meant to. He is in a terrible humour, and Squalo has no time to notice that. He wakes up with a start. "Huh?" he mutters sleepily, and is met with a class of liquor to his head.

"Wake the fuck up." Xanxus is more than unhappy -- he's furious. "Do the fucking dishes, you stupid slob! This place is a fucking mess. I'm going to bed."

Squalo rubs his head, glaring at Xanxus, but something about the rage in his eyes stops him from making a snide remark. "Meeting didn't go as planned, huh?"

Xanxus gives him what might be the dirtiest look he's ever seen, and Squalo somehow -- he suddenly knows what has just happened. "Did he name another heir or something?"

Squalo regrets the words the moment they've left his lips. Xanxus strides over, and his fist flies, breaking Squalo's nose before he has a chance to dodge it. "No," he snarls, but Squalo knows (oh, does he ever) and he cannot say it has come as a shock. "I'm still going to be the Vongola tenth, asshole. Just wait and see."

"Uooooiii!!" Squalo yelps, but Xanxus has his back turned and Squalo's nose just bleeds and bleeds. It hurts immensely, but even Squalo cannot find it in him to be too pissed off. He knows what has just happened.

His flatmate's wording is perfect, Squalo thinks even as he bends down to collect the shards of glass that are sticking in the carpet (funny how Xanxus cares very little about the rug now, isn't it?). It gives nothing away, but because Squalo has always suspected a lack of blood ties, the news is not as astonishing. He grins faintly, even though his head is throbbing from the impact, and mops up his blood with a dishrag.

For once, Squalo sees a little spark of something worth following, and a little pinpoint of darkness that gives him hope.

---

Xanxus is always furious now; nothing anyone does makes it any different. Squalo actually likes him better this way -- he's more of a real threat rather than more bark than bite. He doesn't brag so much anymore, but he does like to make everyone think that he truly will be the Vongola tenth. Squalo's not going to argue -- he knows, and that's good enough for him.

It boosts his own confidence, too. Squalo got where he was by pure skill and brute force, and he deserves the title of the boss of the Varia. Some people think he's just a cocky bastard, but the Varia -- they know better. He can beat them all with one hand tied behind his back, and he stands in front of them one day along with the other two possible leaders, and raises his sword.

The people around him instinctively draw back, but Squalo is not interested in them. The blade flashes down so quickly it was difficult to follow, and there is a sudden thud. A hand drops to the ground, and the Varia gasp, eyes widening at the incomprehensible scene in front of them.

"UOOOOIII!! You see that?" Squalo shouts, ensuring that anyone who ever feels an urge to challenge him can hear. "I cut off my own hand! You know why?! It's because I can beat anyone who comes up against me with my sword just attached to one arm. Is there anyone out there who feels up to the challenge of beating me, the second sword emperor?"

There is a silence. No one moves, no one breathes. The only sound is the trickles of blood coming from the stump that had once been Squalo's hand. One man stepped forward, anxious and twitchy, and Squalo raises his sword. The man puts his hands up in surrender and shows what he is here for.

"S-sir -- I just -- bandages would be good for your arm, sir--" and Squalo grins, putting down his sword. There are no objections. He is the next leader of the Varia, and everyone knows it.

He lets the Varia underling wrap a tourniquet around his hand, and he straps the sword to the stump at Squalo's behest. He steps back, and suddenly a murmur runs through the crowd of assassins.

They have a leader again.

--

"Don't get too excited," Xanxus snaps when Squalo comes in, grinning like a lunatic. "We've got work to do, you know."

Squalo knows.

--

The screams ring in his ears as he dodges a barrage of bullets and Xanxus is nowhere in sight but that's good because it means that he's got the ninth all set up but Squalo's supposed to be protecting him so he leaves his Varia (they are his Varia now even unofficially) in the front and they fall into a killing frenzy--

Racing indoors Xanxus and Timoteo are inside and they are chatting -- is now really the time for talk because Squalo is bleeding heavily and the hair he has begun to grow out is matted with blood his own and others' and his hand it throbs so painfully --

They fight and argue and Timoteo wishes for forgiveness and is that kindly old man as usual and then Xanxus -- Xanxus is frozenfrozenfrozen and Squalo curses himself because no matter how much of an asshole he can be Xanxus is still his peer and his future boss and Squalo will do anything for him--

and then the cradle affair is over and Squalo and his Varia are rounded up and punished but even that is not quite enough to wipe out the memory of the pure rage etched in every pore of Xanxus's face...

Squalo seems to have picked up some of the Xanxus fury and he already begins planning to get him back so they can rule the Vongola together and everything will be as it should be.

--

Xanxus wakes up, a tingling sensation covering his entire body. A baby -- it is a baby, isn't it? -- hops off the chair beside the bed he's lying in. "He's awake," the child announces in a high-pitched voice. "Sooner than expected, might I add."

Xanxus wants to tell the baby to shut the fuck up because the voice is giving him a headache, but he thinks better of it when he catches sight of the telltale pacifer around his neck. "You're an arcobaleno." He is surprised by how rough and throaty his voice sounds, and he wonders what precisely has happened to him. The last thing he remembers is coldness--

Oh.

He struggles to sit up, eyes blazing. "That fucker!" he growls. The arcobaleno does not seem fazed.

"Don't strain yourself," he says, and then familiar footsteps enter the room: they are cocky and loud, each one paced perfectly in front of the other. Xanxus knows immediately who it is.

"Uooooii, you're finally up," Squalo laughs. "It's been a while." And indeed it has. His old friend's hair is now far past his shoulders, still the same silver colour as ever. His sword is still attached to that handless wrist of his, and nothing about him seems to have changed at all.

"How long?" Xanxus's throat is dry, and he gives up on his fury. "What happened?"

"The ninth iced you," Squalo informs him almost too casually as faces appear over his shoulder -- Belphegor, Lussuria, Levi -- "Marmon here got you out. Thawed you. Because, you know, you still have a boss position to fill."

"Has he named another heir?" Xanxus finally manages to sit up. He flexes his fingers experimentally, not even bothering to thank the little man who had somehow -- somehow managed to get him out.

"There seems to be a kid," Marmon tells him, his mouth set in a permanent frown. "Approximately fifteen years old. He lives in Japan, and is the son of the head of the CEDEF. Of course, he has hardly been trained yet, so we have quite some time..." the baby pauses. "We, however, have a bit of leverage that this boy does not." He reaches inside his voluminous cape, pulling out a box with a familiar seal on it. "We have half of the Vongola rings. If we can somehow get the ninth to agree to a battle for the rings..." he trails off, and Squalo continues, grinning that shark-like smile of his.

"We'd win," he crows. "And then you'd be boss, like you were supposed to."

Xanxus's head is spinning, but he realises an opportunity when he sees one, and without full use of his brain, he grasps it and hangs on tight. "Guess it's about time I paid a visit to my father, then, isn't it?"

And he and Squalo make their way to the Vongola stronghold.

--

"X-Xanxus!" The ninth's guards stare at him in shock. Squalo swallows a triumphant grin. They think Xanxus is a ghost, come back from the dead -- or perhaps they're simply shocked to see him break out of what seems to be an inpregnable prison.

They lift their weapons, but Squalo's katana is up in a flash, and they falter. Squalo is the swordmaster, the unofficial leader of the Varia. They know better than to mess with someone like him, with Xanxus -- scarred and furious -- at his side.

"Uoooii!" Squalo calls to them, his teeth bared in an anticipatory grin. "You want to fight? I'll slice you to bits!!" The guards look unsure of themselves. They want to run, let them pass through to speak to the boss, but they want to fight and protect their honour and the ninth.

"That won't be necessary." The ninth's quavering voice breaks the tension-charged scene. The guards look at him in shock; Squalo's expression turns triumphant; Xanxus's face does not change. "Please, Superbi, Xanxus, sit down."

Squalo scowls at the use of his first name, but he says nothing. Timoteo speaks before anyone else can, and he clasps his hands together.

"Xanxus -- I am truly sorry for what has occurred. I should have told the truth earlier, I know, but--"

"That's not the issue, old man," snapped Xanxus. "What is the problem is that you've taken away what is rightfully mine."

"It is not rightfully yours, nor anyone else's. I have chosen an heir who can truly become the boss of the Vongola." His eyes flitted towards Squalo, who was sitting there as still as stone. Xanxus gave the boss a warning look (as if Squalo doesn't already know each and every detail of the situation), and the ninth falls silent.

"I have an alternative for you, then," Xanxus's voice is cold and hot at the same time, and everyone in the room shifts uncomfortably. "My guardians and I will fight that scumbag you chose for the title. For the rings."

Timoteo eyes him in surprise. Then, a small, sad smile unfurls across his face and he shakes his head. No, no, no is what it means and Xanxus's fingers curl into rock-hard fists. "You can never become the tenth, Xanxus," he says quietly, ruefully. "And for that I apologise from the bottom of my heart." He stops, but not long enough to allow Xanxus to splutter his terrible anger and frustration. "But perhaps as compensation, my son, you will take a different position?"

"Not a chance."

"Not even the leader of the Varia? There lacks a sense of leadership there, and perhaps that will suffice?"

Xanxus considers this, and Squalo stares at them in horror and righteous hatred. "All right," Xanxus says at length, though Squalo is quite certain that the man has something else up his sleeve. "I'll take it."

Timoteo appears relieved. "Bene," he says with a kindly smile and a crinkling around his eyes, and Squalo can only follow in a blind stupour as Xanxus beckons him out imperiously with one flick of his wrist.

--

"That position was mine!" Squalo shouts as soon as they return home, his lip curling upwards into a snarl. "I worked hard for it, and now that fucking old man has given it to you?! You don't even want it, you don't deserve--"

Xanxus's fist collides with his cheek and Squalo staggers back from the blow. Xanxus doesn't allow him an opening. Instead, he grabs his new subordinate by the throat, leaning so close in that Squalo can feel his breath. "Shut the fuck up," he mutters hatefully. "You know how it feels now, don't you?"

And Xanxus's mouth is on his. Squalo wants to shove him away and beat him into a bloody mess of flesh, bones and guts, slicing him into ribbons for what he's just cheated him out of, but he can't. That one missing hand has suddenly become his greatest handicap, and in order to regain the upper hand, he bites Xanxus's tongue. Xanxus, with a noise of pain, bites right back, and it becomes a violent tussle in which Xanxus has the advantage.

Xanxus's knees are pinning Squalo's legs together, his hands gripping Squalo's wrists so hard they leave bruises. "You help me get my fucking position, and you'll have yours, scum," he whispers and his teeth sink into the pale skin of Squalo's neck.

Squalo has no choice but to submit to the warring sensations of pain and pleasure. Xanxus speaks truthfully, and when his long hair is pulled painfully from his scalp Squalo is reminded of his pledge to help the Vongola's rightful tenth leader.

They will plan. They will attack like sharks and follow the faint traces of blood in the water, the scents of opportunity.

They will win, and the world will finally be theirs.