Your palms are sweating.
You end up staring at Sawada Tsuna’s front door for a good three minutes before working up the courage to knock. It takes only one minute–briefly preceded by the sound of something hard knocking into a wall and a particularly loud, girlish wail–before someone answers. The boss himself is the one to greet you in all of his harried looking glory, a nasty bruise purpling under one eye and one of his hands rubbing ruefully at the rise of his cheek.
“Can I…help you?” Tsuna asks, looking you over with all of the wariness of someone who’s answered the door one too many times to a complete lunatic. Unfortunately for the brunette, the trend was going to continue today.
“H-Hi!” you blurt out, voice pitching high as you thrust your palm out towards the young man. Tsuna lurches back like you’ve thrust a gun at him. You only stare at him, slightly bewildered and concerned, before looking to your hand. Sweaty. Right. Retracting it, you wipe it on your skirt before returning it to its previous position. “I’m (Full Name). You're Sawada Tsuna, right?”
Tsuna seems to be debating in this long moment as to whether he should admit to his identity. Unfortunately for him, you already know exactly who he is. More importantly, you know what he has to do with the mafia. Which is precisely why you’re here.
Before Tsuna can reluctantly admit to who he is, something very round and fluffy comes flying at the back of his head. The object collides into Tsuna’s skull with a sickening crack, and Tsuna’s dark eyes roll back into his head as he collapses forward into your waiting arms. Meanwhile, the lump, now on the floor, rolls to its feet and waddles off in tacky, cowprint pajamas.
“You have good reflexes, (Last Name),” a high-pitched voice greets you. With a gasp, you clutch Tsuna--currently dead weight in your arms--to your chest. At your feet stands a small, well-dressed toddler approximately the size of the one you’d seen launched at the mafia boss in your arms. That can only be…
“Reborn!” you shout, your composure fleeing you. It was the Reborn. You had no idea he’d be here, of all places. Sure, there were rumors that he was employed to the Vongola. It was a well-known fact in the mafia sphere that the Vongola Ninth and the infamous hitman were close friends. But to think he’d be with the up and coming Tenth, of all people! “I-It’s an honor to meet you! I-I mean, gosh, you know who I am!”
“Of course I do. It’s not just any day one from your family comes to try and join the Vongola, after all,” the hitman replies. “We’ve been following you since you left Chicago. Now that you’re here, why don’t you tell me why we should hire you, since Tsuna seems to be…” Reborn looks over the limp young man that you’re holding close. "…indisposed.”
In your haste to retrieve your job application, you nearly drop the boss you intend to work for. Thankfully, years of training allow you to catch him with an outstretched leg as you dig through the book bag you had slung over your shoulder. Tsuna groans from his position slung over your knee. Paying him no mind, you hand Reborn a neatly printed piece of paper.
“Hmm, yes, you’ve been training since you were five…and you already have over two dozen successful hits,” Reborn remarks, looking pleased. Pride swells in your chest at the sight, but the feeling is quickly dashed when Reborn hands your application back to you. “I would gladly accept you myself, but I’m afraid it isn’t my place. Tsuna will have to be the one to convince. So come again tomorrow.”