Obsession - Katekyo Hitman Reborn - Ri86

Summary: In the end, the one she actually belonged with was him. Ri86 / Secondo/RicardoxHaru

My lack of KHR knowledge might make some things untrue or some characters OOC!

I don't own Katekyo Hitman Reborn!

Please forgive any mistakes, both character-wise and grammatically-wise. I don't have time to re-read or edit things.

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Obsession

HappyFace1886

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Let it be known that Ricardo of the Vongola Famiglia never had any ambition to become the Secondo of the largest and most well-known vigilante organization of the world.

Of course, there were always rumors that floated in the air. People talked. They would always talk, no matter the situation or the time of day. There was also the matter of how words from such unworthy filth would never even graze his temperament. It was known that Ricardo had the patience of a ticking bomb, but he found it beneath someone of his caliber to care about what trash thought of him.

However, amongst every rumor was a speckle of truth.

Giotto had grown tired of the politics, the manipulation and violence that were the unfortunate core necessities of any large and commanding organization. He desired peace and memories with his close friends and compatriots. And so, there have been many instances in which he offered the title of Secondo to Ricardo.

While ambitious by nature, to become the Secondo meant usurping the Primo. And while it was true that Ricardo believed Giotto to be too soft for someone of his position, he openly acknowledged the fact that Giotto was in another league of his own. After all, it was uncommon –basically unheard of– for a young fourteen to fifteen year old child to have created the level of prestige obtained by an organization such as the Vongola. They –the affiliates of the group– would accept no Secondo until the Primo was gone, either lost from battle or of old age.

Ricardo was content to watch from the shadows, to handle the mishaps and unsavory happenings that occurred within the dark underworlds. It was as though the world filled with the unsavory was the kingdom he belonged in. There, he was the master, the one respected, feared, and awed. Amongst those of the light, he was nothing but a blood thirsty monster that had no mercy for any living being: man, woman, or child. In that sense, he could be considered the hidden dagger that guarded the king, the one that evoked peace through the violence hidden by the night.

There was also no pride in stealing the life work of another. If he truly wanted to be the leader of something akin to the Vongola, he preferred to create his own than ride on the coattails of his cousin.

That was, until the presence of the strange Japanese woman who literally appeared out of thin air through a shower of golden light.

Miura Haru.

She had appeared in the middle of the annual gala hosted by the Vongola and its brethren. In the midst of the speech given by the Primo, a powerful burst of light exploded from the heavens and then a small fragile looking woman came careening down from the skies. Before anyone could react, the Primo was up in the air, gathering her up in his arms as he gracefully descended down with the woman clade in unusual, foreign clothing.

The outrage and caution had been understandable. She was a foreign entity that somehow managed to penetrate through the defenses of the Vongola! And while it was obvious she hailed from the same country as the Rain Guardian, her clothing did not resemble anything from that country or any other nation of this world. It was possible that she was sent by an enemy organization in order to destroy the Vongola from within, one meant to take advantage of the empathy and kindness the Vongola was famous for.

But of course, kind Primo, gentle Giotto, could not simply abandon a person in need, no matter the potential consequences. Based on her stories, she had no home or family to turn to. Everything had been lost in a war against another great evil.

A great evil that she had come to warn them about.

Ricardo leaned back in his seat with his head tilted over the edge of the settee, the ice clinking together as he loosely held the glass filled with whisky. He could still remember how everyone’s demeanor changed once they saw that she was telling the truth. An organization with powers they could never have even dreamed of had arrived, threatening to destroy the peace Giotto and his Guardians had created with their own hands.

The goddess of victory, they called her..

And the eventual beloved woman of the Primo.

Yes, Ricardo had never desired anything that the Primo possessed because he found it beneath himself to yearn after what belonged to another. Thievery was something for the weak and foolish. Whatever he wanted, he would forge for himself.

But what could one do when the very thing he sought could not be replicated despite the vastness of the world?

What could a mere man do when his thoughts were oversaturated with images of a fiery brown haired woman, the way her eyes would light up with determination and resolve... or when his mind would wonder what it would be like to sample a taste of her lips, the sweetness of her tongue, and the softness of her skin?

It came to the point that she was haunting him even during his waking moments. He could hear her sultry voice whispering in his ears, the smell of her intoxicating scent, and the feel of the gentle brush of her fingers against the curve of his hipbone. The illusions would follow him day and night until he finally lost control of himself, losing the boundary between fantasy and reality.

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There was only a yelp that escaped from her lips as she was pushed against the wall of the dark corridor, her brown eyes widening in shock as a pair of lips hungrily claimed her lips as their own.

Taken off guard by the abruptness of his actions, Haru provided no resistance and allowed him to do as he pleased, his tongue slipped into her mouth where he then coaxed her to join him in a lascivious dance. His fingers reached up and entangled themselves against her brown hair, tugging at the strands as he always dreamed of doing until the elastic band was pulled off, allowing those silken locks to cascade down her shoulders. Her enthralling scent filled his senses and his kiss grew harsher, his grip on her hair tightening as he tilted her head backwards in order to allow himself to deepen the kiss.

A pair of dainty hands was then frantically pushing against his chest, small whimpers and cries of dismay escaping from her throat. It was enough to break Ricardo out of his illusions and pull away, his expression of clear shock as he looked down at Haru, who was breathless and angry.

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Of course, he had given her a curt apology and ignored her demands for answers, brusquely walking off before he lost control of himself again. It would be a lie to say he didn’t want more, that the sight of her so angry and flustered was enough to make him want to pin her against the wall again, to ignore her demands for him to stop as he lost himself with his mad desire for her.

It was a weakness to covet what belonged to another. Not to mention, she was just a mere slip of a woman. Another human being. How was she able to captivate him to the point that he was losing his indomitable self control?

It shouldn’t matter.

She shouldn’t matter!

Who and what the hell was she that drove him to such lengths of obsession?

Why did his temper threaten to flare whenever he saw the Primo hold Haru in his arms?

Why did the thought of him smashing the Primo’s head, the man he respected and decided to serve with his life, into the ground please him so much whenever Haru would return Giotto’s adoring gaze with a soft, sweet smile of her own?

His Goddess of Victory.

His woman.

His Miura Haru.

Perhaps that was why the Guardian of the Mist approached him as he did.

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Ricardo regarded the older man warily, knowing of the tricks that those of the Mist Flame loved to indulge in. Not to mention, due to his restlessness and inability to get a good night’s sleep, he was in no mood to deal with a crafty trickster who was known to stir trouble wherever he went.

However, as Daemon Spade’s lips curled into a smirk and he held out his hand, he slyly whispered the words that caused Ricardo’s blood to freeze as every fiber of his being demanded that he take what was being offered.

“The Primo is unworthy,” he purred. “You and I know this is true. Join me... and you will get what should have belonged to you.”

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The Secondo of the Vongola Famiglia.

It was his fate to become the head, to bring the family to the actual greatness it was meant to obtain. It was due to his lack of ambition, his respect towards Giotto, that everything had turned the way it had.

The Goddess of Victory belonged to him.

She was meant to arrive in the midst of his reign, if only he had accepted.

He placed the crystal glass on the nearby desk, long legs stretching out as he stood up from the beige settee. His coat was thrown over a nearby chair and there was still blood staining the top of his brown dress shirt while his loosened tie hung around his neck. It would be best to perhaps change his clothes; after all, only a few hours had passed since the decided battle between him and the Primo.

However, his patience had reached its limits.

Ricardo turned his attention to the lithe figure at the center of his bed where he could hear the faint groan escaping from her lips, her eyelids trembling as they threatened to open.

His Goddess was finally waking up.

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::owari::

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AN: Man, that was so hard to write. I have no idea where my muse went, but it decided to die last night. We were lucky to get... whatever this was that I ended up writing. xD Hope it was at least entertaining! I spent hours trying to find inspiration (be it for one of the multi-chapter fics or a oneshot...) and so, tried doing something different because nothing was working. The result ended up being a oneshot about the Secondo and Haru, something I have never tried!

In this version, Ricardo, whom Xanxus supposedly resembles greatly, is a calmer version than his future counterpart. It's possible that unlike Xanxus, who lived a very unstable life, Ricardo could have grown to be more in control of himself since he most likely got to see the creation of the Vongola since its birth and might not have had issues trying to prove his worth. Or for all we know, he was a jealous bastard who felt like he had to prove himself since Giotto, his relative, was so amazing. xD In this interpretation of him, he's more 'cool'.

Sequel: Possession - Katekyo Hitman Reborn - Ri86