Chapter 15: CXLI-CL 1/2

Author's Note : Guest reviewer Yours Faithfully… no. Allow me to refer you to ADDBaby's review of last chapter.

Otherwise? Thank you for contributing to the continued abuse of the review system. Have a nice day.

Moving on.

Fleeting white feathers, whose penname actually has dots not spaces but FFN's automatic web address scrubbers removes half her name if you try to put them in, caught the slip-up I had in last chapter. Sonya was originally going to hide out in Japan for a month, and when correcting the half-finished chapter for that change I left China referred to as the Land of the Rising Sun once. Whoops. I fixed it, at least.

No, Liqin isn't Fon. Good guess though. And no, Bjǫrn's not Colonello. That'd be a little… too convenient. We will be getting another pre-Arcobaleno member in-story here soon, though.

We are also slowly closing in on the actual Arcobaleno years, too. Yay?

And… I had to actually go back and count to figure out how old, exactly, Sonya was. And… I think I might have messed that up, actually.

Edited (4/25/2017) - Minor story corrections (the age-thing FINALLY) and grammar adjustments.

Edit (3/21/2018) - Final formatting and minor corrections.

Edited (9/7/2018) - Minor corrections.

Russian Roulette : Reloaded

CXLI – CL

CXLI (Tuesday the 13th of December, 1966. Mafia Land.)

"The… incident this summer actually started about late last year," Renato informed her over the restaurant's table once they were done eating, "I took a hit that ended up being a contract kill for the last living son of some Don with a respectable reach, even if he lacked the power to effectively operate that far outside of his sphere of influence."

That Sonya could easily believe. Someone that had the reach to go as far as France from wherever he had been had to have significant amounts of power. In this world, power was usually in the hands of the heads of various criminal outfits.

Those grunts she had… killed, hadn't been particularly talented ones, but they likely hadn't expected a thief to be more combat capable than any other female they knew.

"Alright, so why did it end up with me getting attacked and Shamal orphaned?"

The hitman tisked, slouching back into the dinner chair he was practically draped over. "Use some imagination, Sonya. Before that hit he was the second to last member of his family, elderly, semi-powerful man. His last hope to pass on his legacy to his own flesh and blood gunned down by some freelance hitman? If he couldn't pass on his famiglia to his own blood, why not take his revenge on who did the hit instead?"

She set her wineglass down, settling her folded arms on her end of the table between them. "I am sorry, I had assumed his efforts would have been better spent finding a new heir so his famiglia would not scum to in-fighting and come to ruin in the event of his death. Instead, obviously, I should have assumed that revenge's temporary satisfaction would have sated his grief."

"Obviously." Renato mocked sourly, glaring downwards intently as if the dinnerware had insulted him personally. "He somehow found out which hitman had taken the contract, a leak I have yet to find or seal up within the Halls I work in. So, with a name and a description, he set his rather considerable network of contacts and men to search out everything about me or those that would associate with me. You can likely guess what happened to most of them afterwards."

She really did wonder about the standards of Mafia Land's security, internal or external.

Eventually, in a couple decades, that blond sniper man would come here and pitch in. Would that happen because standards had fallen to the point even mafia people like the Mafioso across from her or she herself were no longer safer than most places working here, or because someone eventually decided a completely neutral individual had to oversee security?

"…so, since you probably killed this Don, do you take over his famiglia?" Sonya wondered out loud, as right of conquest wasn't a foreign idea to people like them.

It was a rather common thing, in truth.

Planning on being able to pass your newly amassed criminal enterprise to whatever child was more of a gamble than anything, because more than likely someone would murder either you or your kids in hopes to be the only one you could leave your power and wealth to. It was more usual to hear someone butchered someone else and took over their territory than to hear some Don or Boss had stepped down and his so-and-so heir took up his place.

Those that managed something like passing on leadership of some group from one generation to the next were all mostly well-established syndicates… or about to become well-established.

"What there is of it." With a dry smirk for her, which was tinged with more than a little bitterness, the Italian picked his own glass of whisky back up and finished it off. "Most the Mafiosi left alive abandoned the place once their Don was murdered, and those left I wouldn't trust with a pet rock, but I do now own a rather shot up mansion not far outside of San Giovanni in Fiore."

…Renato now had people. Actual, minion-y people. That was… slightly scary to contemplate.

Even if they weren't good people, it would still enable him to get better ones and branch out from there.

"That Don nearly ran his estate into the ground before I caught up to him." Continued the hitman a touch tiredly, setting the whisky glass down with a thump. "I'm going to be busy hauling it out of the dirt and salvaging what I can, if I don't just sell the place and let someone else bother with trying to salvage anything from it."

"You sell it, and I can easily see other Dons asking you to knock off someone they hate just to sell the home and belongings to them."

"I can too, unfortunately."

If he gained a reputation for murdering the heads of criminal enterprises, he'd get hunted by every other criminal in charge of more than ten to twenty lives until someone managed to kill him.

Not something he'd likely want to deal with.

She wondered if she should ask about the fate of any other contacts the Mafioso had before a crime family's boss started gunning for him, but since that likely would turn this conversation even more sour she abstained.

If she wanted to know she'd look it all up herself, it would take a bit of searching and it was possible she'd never get a clear view of everything… but it was still an option for information she really didn't need to know.

The fact she and baby Mist survived at all was good enough for her.

Speaking of? "When is Shamal's birthday?"

"February. Why?"

Sonya leveled a flat stare at him. "…the…?"

"Ninth." He gave her a suspicious look. "Again, why Sonya?"

"Birthday presents." She informed him, tone suggesting she found him a little slow. "Mmm… I am going to need to find something for Christmas, too… what does he like, anyways?"

CXLII (Tuesday the 13th of December, 1966 continued. Mafia Land.)

"Alright," the thief said a short time later, rubbing her left temple as she spoke, "so that's that. Now then, what the hell was up with the Sword Emperor Tyr waiting with you on the docks?"

Renato didn't really want to get into the deal he struck with the Don of Vongola in return for a bit of indirect help, or what it would eventually cost him, but he did owe Sonya a fair bit.

Had she decided not to help beyond what that one favor had maintained?

Shamal might have been in a little trouble right around now, and the hitman might have only just learned how much of that trouble would be aimed in his direction. Her report of what offer was made to her was really the most he had any right to expect from this association, the fact she genuinely liked the kid was likely the only reason she decided to cover his tracks when he spirited the young Mist off the island.

If she hadn't done that, he would've been in a worse position to bargain with Nono Vongola to deal with the problem. Likely while his ward was in someone else's hands.

Which was rather ridiculous if you thought of it in another way. He owed a Cloud for his Mist ward's safety.

The gallows humor of that thought made him smirk, because if there was anything Sonya represented it was an upset to what was thought of as normal Cloud natured behavior.

"Of the six syndicates that run Mafia Land together, there was one called the Mataraci Group from Turkey. They're enforcers for underground trade routes and generally dealt with security here as well. Since they are originally from the middle of the main drug trade routes, they do know most if not all the ways to smuggle shit like that in just about everything and how to find it."

Sonya blinked at the information, a slight tilt to her head as she listened to him talk. Renato wasn't surprised she hadn't heard of which groups ran things here, that information was kept quiet to keep people or other syndicates from thinking of attacking them outside of Mafia Land for their stakes in the island's operations.

"They, being a security conscious group of complete scum, were the ones interested in finding and training up any Dying Will Flame users they can find for their own purposes."

Her features went suddenly blankly neutral, and when she spoke it rang a couple warning bells in his head.

"They would not happen to have operations in Czechoslovakia, would they?"

"It's… highly likely. They were a powerful group before this, and that's in their general region. Why?"

A twist of distaste made her lips curl in a snarl, and the stainless-steel fork she had been idly toying with in her hands suddenly bent into strange shapes under those slender fingers. "Take a wild guess where my foster brother hails from originally, and how it was he ended up fostered in Moscow with me. Your first two guesses do not count."

Renato blinked at that tidbit of information and scowled as he connected the dots to other bits of information she had given over years ago. Like how she knew some people were looking specifically for Flame users before the age of twelve.

Discarding the now ruined eating utensil with a sigh, the thief finally allowed her posture to slump as she leaned back against her chair's back. "Is there any way you can think where I can substantiate that theory without stepping on anyone's toes?"

"I'll check for you."

It was really the least he could do, and it would assuage some of his personal feelings of cowardice at ditching her on her own to draw attention from people she likely couldn't have fought off him and Shamal. Not alone, anyways.

Cloud she may be, but she was only one person.

"So, the point was to get Flame users young enough and raise them up loyal to whatever. In an attempt to get said Flame users to pull security… likely against other Flame users. Okay, not really a bad plan. Why the hell did they want to go about it in…?" Sonya looked to be searching for a specific word, but eventually shrugged it off. "How did this not trip whatever off as human trafficking? I am pretty sure that is still not allowed here."

"They pulled security, it was nearly child's play for them to ignore their own people abducting young Flame users." Renato reminded her grimly. "Thankfully, they're not in charge of that anymore."

"Are we getting to the point where you tell me what the ever loving hell the Head of the Varia Assassination Squads was doing here?"

The hitman nearly choked on his own spit, sheer surprise that she knew that tidbit making him sit up ramrod straight. It really shouldn't have, given how much other information she tended to know, but it had still shocked him somewhat. "How do you even know that?"

He had thought she avoided Italian affairs, how the fuck did she catch that tidbit?

"I hear things, and I know a lot of random stuff." Sonya informed him blandly, arms crossing over her chest. "So?"

Obviously, she was lying about something, but her posture said she wasn't going to say anything else about what she did or did not know.

"Nono of Vongola contacted the Vindice and got countermeasures against the Mataraci Group condoned by them due to violating the pact the island is held to, mostly to remove them as one of the six syndicates in charge and take their spot." He bluntly informed her, feeling a little vindictive and gratified when she shivered at the mention of the mafia world's enforcers. "The Varia were handed the orders for the clean-up. However, even if I was the one to bring up the breach to someone able to deal with it, I also needed Shamal's safety guaranteed for the duration of this… mop-up. Since I was expected to help guide them to where they needed to go."

She considered that, frowning thoughtfully at her empty wine glass. "Are they at least going to ensure his safe childhood in return for whatever they have over you now?"

"Until he's around ten, but yes. He'll even get instruction for Mist Flames while he's with them. Why?"

"This situation is not that bad, then. You were always going to get tied down somewhere because of Shamal, at least this way there's safety in greater numbers." Sonya suddenly tossed a more forceful scowl at him. "Make sure they do not teach him stupid shit, like Mists must be long-range fighters with no physical strength."

"Stupid?" Renato echoed slowly.

"That pure bull of 'Mists and Clouds hate each other'? There is a tendency for dislike. Hard Clouds do not appreciate frivolous pet-peeves or silly behavioral habits, and most Mists tend to pick those up to deal with or bolster their very active imaginations. Hence it is more likely a Cloud and Mist will not cohabitate well… however, that's not immediately a reason either would pick a fight with another or something equally as stupid."

The hitman gave his dinner partner a very long look. "Are you going to tell me how you got the information for your books now?"

"It is not earth-shattering." She admitted to him slowly, obviously a bit jarred by the subject change. "I merely got hold of every book I could, rewrote all the actual information into another, and investigated the truth of those claims with my own nature and several others. It is a still on-going project. New information keeps on shifting what I thought was or was not true on me."

"Like moonstones working for me?"

"Do not talk to me about that."

CXLIII (Friday the 30th of December, 1966. Arseniy & Lisa's home, Moscow, Russian Soviet Federative Socialist Republic.)

Rumors floating around that the Vongola's Consulenza Esterna Della Famiglia, the CEDEF advisory branch, would be taking over security for Mafia Land due to 'internal problems' earned Renato a kick in the shin the next time Sonya saw him.

The ass could've warned her that was happening when they had dinner earlier in the week to hash out what were the details behind each other's recent actions.

In fact, she kicked him twice because Tyr hadn't exactly left the island yet and the man kept inspecting her like a scientist with a specimen every time he saw her.

The hitman hadn't had anything to defend himself with, he instead huffed at her like an offended cat and stalked off with a slight hitch in his step. Apparently, he found the fact the Head of the Varia's interest in her as disturbing as she did.

Sonya grabbed her last, for the year, less interesting than ever contract from her Hall and vacated the island for two weeks. Returning just long enough to shove a present for Shamal onto Renato and remind him that visiting the kid was something he needed to do, then left for the Christmas meet-up back in Moscow.

She spent a day being the only 'kid' in the house, picking Lisa's brain about better methods to disguise herself, then left the day after to drag Cherep back with her.

The thief then abandoned her best friend/brother to his own devices, because by then Tatiana had shown up and the Inverted Cloud merely rolled his eyes at her behavior. Instead she dragged her foster sister off to test her compatibility with moonstones.

"Why is it such a major matter?" The Classical Sun user questioned when the bluish-white stone flickered yellow fire with a weak response for her. "Your own spinel gems are the worst offenders for not always being purple."

"But there are purple variations of spinel." Sonya rebutted tiredly. "There aren't any yellow moonstones, the closest this stone type comes is pink, a pinkish-orange, or brown."

The safecracker blinked at that news, looking at the gemstone between her fingers. "Oh. Well… does this Inverted Sun user you know have a better match that is occasionally found in yellow variations?"

"I don't know yet. We only just found his Mist kid's stone and he picked one of those up." The younger thief nodded to the stone the older one was still holding. "I suppose… that I should give him the entire range to pick from and see if there's a better jewel for him."

"A male Sun user, huh? With a kid, though. Hmm." Handing back the loose 'Sun' stone so it could be put away with the rest of the color-coded kits, the redhead crossed her arms under her considerable bust and regarded her younger sister thoughtfully. "Do I get to meet this Sun user you know?"

"If you want…?" Sonya answered uncertainly, not too sure why the older thief wanted to meet her hitman contact. "He lives on Mafia Land, so…"

"I've been there a couple times in the last two years. Apparently not when you've been there, though."

"I've taken the spring-fall stretch off, following Cherep's little circus dream. I'm pulling out after next year, I don't think I can keep taking this kind of time off."

A fine red eyebrow rose, and Tatiana shrugged slightly. "I'm surprised you managed that even for a year, actually. How in the world are you affording that?"

"I've been saving up ever since Cherep suggested it… but I've been thinking of pulling another heist before returning to the circus for some extra cash." She admitted to her with a sigh. "Likely another jewel heist, since I don't think I can explain why I'd need the Sun gems to Arseniy to his satisfaction."

A twitch of her lips answered the Storm-Cloud. "I thought you said-"

"Shut up, Tatiana."

No, she didn't particularly want to do another jewelry store… but she had the experience in it and the reputation for selling high-end jewelry. As something to earn petty cash for more than just herself to cover a year, it was the best option she had.

Especially considering the extra expenses she had to somehow afford.

"I have one more thing to do, so go on without me."

"Oh?"

Sonya jerked a thumb behind her, and Tatiana peered over her shoulder.

Bjǫrn had returned from the errand Arseniy had tasked him with to late last night, making this the first time the younger thief had seen her tagalong since dropping him off nearly two months ago.

The young Finnish teen was also standing right behind her.

"Ah, off I go then." Obviously, the redhead wanted to ask but was apparently going to leave the questioning for later.

Turning around to face Bjǫrn herself, she cocked her head at the kid. "So? Will I understand you now?"

"Yes, miss." His accent was still thick, but he followed the words up with a slow nod to be sure he was understood. "Herra Arseniy says to say 'not well', but… ah, good for soon."

Herra?

She frowned slightly at the teenager, more out of puzzlement than any true negativity. While 'herra' was a word for 'master' in Finnish, now that she was listening closely to how he pronounced it… the thief no longer thought he was. "You're not Finnish, are you?"

"Nei, Icelander."

…Bjǫrn was from Iceland? Why in the hell had she found him in Finland?

"I take it there is a story behind this?"

Sonya got a very slow, slightly grim nod in answer.

CXLIV (Sunday the 8th of January, 1967. Mafia Land.)

Bjǫrn's story wasn't exactly unique for the world Sonya had found herself living in.

He had been born in the fishing town Höfn, in the south-eastern part of Iceland. His father had been a fisherman and his mother a washerwoman for whoever would pay. His father got afoul of the local mafia presence, and ended up dead before long due to a sketchy debt he was supposedly in. Then the mafia members twisted Bjǫrn's arm into becoming a runner for them in his dead father's place, to pay off said sketchy debt Sonya doubted existed.

Unfortunately, his mother didn't last much longer after that. Either grief or the lack of income from her husband had stressed her a bit too much. She had built up a fair bit of money before her death, working herself to the bone even though her health had started to fail, which he used as well as the proceeds from their home being sold to escape the mafia men that had dragged him into their world.

Even escaping to the mainland hadn't really improved his situation much, despite showing him how to cross borders illegally.

In order to keep himself fed and so no one thought to deport him back to Iceland and to the mafia group that conned him into running things for them, Bjǫrn had offered his services to different criminal groups as he wandered around to find someplace that might semi-legally employ a kid as young as him.

He hadn't found one by the time someone got the bright idea to ambush the message running kid for whatever information he had from such-and-such group.

Which was when Sonya accidentally rescued his skinny ass, and then set his broken arm and left him her coat for his own use. Fighting back and winning then not calling the police after that one-sided fight showed she knew the mafia lifestyle, the unwritten rules, and that she wasn't nearly as powerless as him… but also that she wasn't nearly as mean as the people he had been working for before that.

A bit of a loner, but that would just mean he would have no competition to truly worry about if he managed snagging her attention.

Bjǫrn knew a fair bit of the mafia practices and customs even though he was pretty much kept on the outside of most of it. He'd watched a fair bit of the internal politics happen as an outsider and grabbed his chance to have a better lot in life through her.

Which… fair enough. She likely would've done the same thing had she been in his place.

Although, understanding what point he had didn't mean she was happy about getting a little minion of her own… or that she had to come up with some way to pay for him to get through the next year before she went back to being a Mafiya thief full-time and could afford a damn extra dogging at her heels.

Sonya had to use all the experience working heists for Mafia Land to pull off two jewel heists in the USSR, one she nearly flubbed due to a new-model safe she hadn't known how to crack and the other she nearly got caught doing when the silent alarm tripped on her and she got surprised halfway through.

She resolved the first one with the safe by prying the door hinges off and literally breaking the bolts that held the safe's door shut closed with sheer brute strength and her trick weaponry to suggest power tools. The second incident took more… creativity to work around, especially since she was halfway through robbing the store when the local militsiya showed up.

Finishing her heist while the police were checking the store's security out wasn't possible, so she snagged what was nearby and escaped abusing circus-level gymnastics with only half of what she had gone to get. She did at least manage the higher paying items first, which was something at least.

The bulk of newly stolen jewelry Lisa was going to sell for her directly through the fences and then pay off her dues for the year, as the clan had already gotten their tax of the proceeds from the solid metals and what petty cash she had managed. Whatever was left afterwards would be waiting for her when she returned to join back up with the Großes Volksfest.

That took her to the week after Christmas, for the USSR anyways. For the rest of the world, it was the week after New Year's Day.

Freshly sixteen and not too long after the start of 1967, Sonya pressed a couple smuggled Chinese newspapers on Cherep to take back to the circus and Master Liam, gave Tatiana and Lisa a hug, a nod to Arseniy, and dragged her little Iceland teen back with her to Mafia Land with about half of the jewels she had yet to sell.

Most of those were yellow gemstones, and a couple sets of jewelry too specifically detailed to be sold in the same country they were stolen from.

Bjǫrn got kicked into the Mafia Land hospital for a probably badly needed physical, the Storm-Cloud spent four hours waiting for him to be finished while sorting through the yellow gems she'd be giving to Renato to test for a fit.

She needed a check-up herself, but since the pre-teen had not seen a doctor for about three or four years he was getting his done first. When the kid was done getting poked and prodded, she then got to listen to what health problems Bjǫrn had and how to fix some of them.

The vaccinations weren't too bad, expensive but not unexpected, and she knew he had a bit of damage likely from getting kicked around by his previous mafia affiliations.

She did not expect a Sun Flame using nurse offering to fix some of that old damage. For a price, of course, but that was something she would deal with. Plans of asking Tatiana to try a bit of that herself when they got back to Moscow or not.

However, when did Mafia Land get a Dying Will Flame using nurse?

CXLV (Monday the 9th of January, 1967. Mafia Land.)

"Vongola." Renato informed her when she made mention of the Sun in the hospital, poking through the selection of yellow, tan, and gold colored gemstones she had offered for him to test. Each in their own little velvet bag, with a written paper tag naming a number to a stone. "They're putting people everywhere they might help security. Mainly."

It would be easy to get around that little trick, just by getting the gems appraised, but then she'd have no real reason to help him more with the rocks.

Yeah, and Sonya would bet the CEDEF's other duties was to keep up what the last criminal syndicate in charge of security for Mafia Land had done in looking for more Flame users. Possibly more humanely than the last group, and maybe they could take no for an answer, but she doubted it was anything more than a small upgrade in respectability.

"You know, I've been getting a couple questions on Shamal's… not typical behavior." The hitman started casually, tucking the packet of carefully labeled gems away into his pockets. "And that shiny blue rock he's not particularly inclined to give up."

Sniffing as she pulled a lit cigarette from her lips, a smirk crawled across her face even if she tried for disinterest. "Oh, really?"

"He is entirely too willing to tell anyone that he knows a Cloud and that she's really nice to him, whenever the bullshit you made mention of last year is repeated to him."

"…you know, that's entirely typical for a Mist." She informed him faux casually, leveling a bland smile at her drinking partner across 'their' café table. "They're very… opinionated. And seem to love informing others of their opinions."