The Mastermind is a Middle School Student (KHR FF)

Adoption*

(12: illegal unconsented adoption is kidnapping, probably)

[-1-]

"No I'm not."

"Yes you are."

"No I'm not."

"Yes you are."

"No I'm not."

"No you don't."

"Yes i—"

"Hm?" Reborn smirked like the little goblin he truly is. "Was that a confession?"

"You little—" Eitou bit his own lip to stop the barrage of insult in his mind and simply frowned. "You know what you did."

"Of course I do," a strange purr rumbled out of Reborn, which sounds weird, because of his infantile voice, "I always know."

Eitou stared blankly at the little fake scammer torture obsessed infant, silently wishing harm on all food that the man-slash-infant would ever have in the future.

I hope your ice creams always fall down before you can enjoy it.

"I hope you enjoy a lifetime of suffering." Eitou sniffed disdainfully, "and a lack of sweets. Or coffee."

"How rude." The little scammer sarcastically states,"Where is the enemy?"

Eitou stared at the infant with disdaining eyes, no way this guy doesn't know where I-pin is.

The world's greatest hitman can't even detect the presence of a child? Psh.

"Reborn!" Gokudera conveniently cuts off the cryptic stares being exchanged by the two habitual liars, "Let's kill this sissy for housing the enemy! What are we waiting for!?"

Whoah there buddy, what happened to hello, hi, how are you doing?

Ignoring Gokudera's questionable outburst, Eitou simply shrugged, "I don't know, man. I'm not sure what you guys are going on about."

"Truly?"

"Really."

Reborn looked in semi-seriousness into Eitou's eyes, before relenting, "Gokudera, go fetch Bianchi."

"—pfft—" Gokudera's face paled dramatically, his breath stuck in his lungs. Almost like he had stopped breathing, "B-Bianchi??"

"Bianchi." Reborn nods.

Gokudera pales even further— oh oops, he really did stop breathing.

Soon enough, a perfectly healthy teenage boy fell to the ground in a faint.

[-2-]

"What is that."

"Don't call her 'that'." Eitou disdainfully grumbled. He placed I-pin on the high rise chair, and sighed as he looked at the empty saloon.

"By the way, thanks for clearing out your store. Many thanks."

The owner snorted, "Please, don't flatter yourself. You know damn well that you'll force yourself in regardless if I clear or not. Better to clear, at least my reputation stays intact."

The owner, a middle aged man with a square face and a gaunt disposition, is one of the many people in Namimori that Eitou personally calls 'Tsundere'.

Eitou's not sure why, but even after he sent the owner's son to juvenile school, the owner seems to reluctantly help him. Often, a lot of time.

"Besides, what's that... Thing." The saloon owner gestures somewhat towards the abomination on his chair.

"First of all, that's racist." Eitou chastises him, "Second of all, that's a child."