[KHR] Becoming Primo's Son

Chapter 5: The Vongola Mansion

The Vongola Mansion looked... very similar to the one Tsuna knew of.

In Tsuna's life, apparently the original was moved and later burned down and all but then Nono had a replica made which Tsuna inherited— but Tsuna didn't realize it really was a big recreation. It looked scarily similar, except the few modern touches like the doorbell and roads looked antique.

Which made sense.

"Come here, Tsuna," Giotto picked him up on one arm. "Dami—"

He turned around and there was no one.

Embarrassed, Giotto cleared his throat. "Right. He's busy. Then, Matilda?" he called. Someone that looked like an older lady, dressed like a maid— ah, Tsuna recognized the ornamental embellishments in her uniform. She's the head maid. "Have Tsuna settled into the mansion. I'll leave him to you."

"...yes, Lord Vongola," the lady said, taken aback at first. "I will do as you said."

And Tsuna sympathised.

If he'd randomly brought home a child that looked like an illegitimate child all of a sudden, he would expect everyone to look at him like he'd gone insane too.

-

"Does the water sting, young lord? I'm sorry, I'll be done soon."

Matilda approached him so carefully, asking him if he was okay every other second as she, as gently as she could, rid his body of the dirt that had fossiled over his skin and through the open wounds. She looked so close to crying Tsuna wanted to apologize for subjecting him to all this.

"I'm okay..." Tsuna assured. "I was just thinking it's been a very long time since I've had a bath. I'm sorry."

For some reason, Matilda bit down on her lip and hid her face from him.

"It's—" her voice faltered, but she composed herself quickly. "Please close your eyes, young lord. I'll dump this water over your head now."

"Okay."

She did so, rinsing the shampoo out of his hair, and it felt cathartic, the wave of lovingly warm water seeping through to his scalp, cascading down his figure into the tub.

When he lifted his head again, the world felt real again.

The towel was soft and gentle. The tiles were cold but clear and pristine. Matilda whispered assurances to him that he didn't need, fitted him in clothes even though he insisted he could put them on himself. She made sure his hair was blown completely dry, and then put salves and bandages over the wounds on his skin.

She's very nice.

-

The clothes are comfy and warm and so unlike anything he'd worn in modern times and he finds himself so cosy on the couch. Matilda gives him a mug of milk and honey and he would drink it if he were a normal child.

He wasn't.

The last time he drank out of his head maid's mug, he had to throw it at her head after a sip and then so she wouldn't plunge a knife in his gut.

"Is it not to your liking, young master?"

She's close. Very close. So close, the mug jerks away from Tsuna's hand instinctively and his entire body moves to get away— ah.

They've dropped the cup on the carpet. It's shattered. There's steaming hot chocolate everywhere on the floor, on the carpet, past the couch— and on Matilda's apron, too, spilling into her knees and thighs.