Gotta Look Cute So They Forget You Don't Know Basic Math

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"Your training starts today!"

"I have training...?" The groggy child trudged down the steps, after almost 24 hours of no rest, (Y/N) passed out on the roof next to Formaggio for a solid ten hours, who turned her small so he could bring her down. While walking to her room, Melone caught him in the act and cooed over how darling the sleeping thing was, and then Ghia tried to microwave her. All in all, when she stumbled downstairs at four to raid whatever food they have in the fridge, she was met with the predicament she was currently in. That being, she was dragged to a training area and was pitted to the death against a stupid babyface thing that wasnt even an actual baby. She spent the next hour or so running for her life, only attacking when necessary. While most of La Squadra watched for the shits and giggles, a few of them took note of her parkour abilities, and her miraculous ability of evading the stand's grasp. What they didn't know is that it was due to countless years of running from the cops for her various pranks. Even if she was caught, everything was erased and she would do it again. An endless cycle, but rather fun when you put some imagination into it. Her attacks though, were less than ideal. They did hurt but it was as if it inflicted no damage. They only served as a minor inconvenience so she could escape. She let out another scream as it lunged for her, kicking it straight in the face. This continued on for a few more hours or until they decided it wasn't funny anymore.

She went back to sulk in her room.

She didn't leave until the middle of the night where she was met with Pros, sitting at the dinner table and smoking for no reason at all. She ignored him because she was fucking starved and her stomach sounded like a rock tumbler. With weary steps, she slinked past the man and raided the very empty fridge, taking someone's fruit salad and scampering back upstairs. "No eating upstairs."

Well fuck you, old man. (Y/N) sat down at the table anyway, scooping the sweet sugary bowl of fruit into her mouth, clinks of silverware against ceramic bowls and the occasional huff of smoke in the dark, the golden embers of the cigar slowly creeping up the side of the white paper. "How long have you been smoking?"

"Pretty much since I was born. A habit I got from my father." he mumbled, gently blowing another lungfull of the ashy air above him. "I just can't seem to quit."

"Oh I can help with that." She flung a grape with the precision of a laser, knocking it out of his hand and continuing to eat. "Drugs are bad, kiddo."

"I'm older than you."

"And I'm eating a bowl of fruit when I could be deepthroating an entire bag of cheetos puffs. Who's the more responsible one here?" She choked on a piece of strawberry. "...Don't answer that, ham boy."

"Well, It's nice to know there's such a good influence in the house." He sarcastically grumbled, itching for another cigar, "Surely you've done some drugs. Kids these days are all into them."

"Nope, If you don't count the cinnamon and drinking straight up chocolate sauce, I'm drug free."

"Chocolate. Chocolate sauce." He repeated.

"Yea but that only happened like three times so its cool."

"Why the fuck did you do it multiple times???"

"Cause its hershey's CHOCOLATE"

"That's not fucking RIGHT."

"NEITHER IS SMOKING??"

"HOW ARE YOU STILL ALIVE???"

"I DO WHAT I WANT????"

"WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU GUYS YELLING?" A very angy blue boy plod down the steps, baby blue curls swirling up in untamed cowlicks.

"Sheesh no need to yell."

"Yea be considerate, it's the middle of the night." Ham boy chidded, the two weirdos donning the same concerned face in the misty shadows of the kitchen. He flicked the light on and they both hissed as if they were being burned, their eyes sure were. "Christ almighty what's your problem."

"What's YOUR problem?"

"I have no problem, except maybe with whoever made this fruit salad because who fuckin likes red grapes. The greens ones are superior, everyone knows this." She stuffed a cut slice of orange into her mouth, citrus exploding against her tastebuds with a hint of pineapple. "Anyways, What's gonna happen tomorrow? More chasing? More pain?"

"Yea, but this time you're going to do it with your stand."

"Eh?"

Extra!!

"Movie night? We have movie night?" She slid down the railing, Risotto scolding her softly as Melone patted the spot next to him. Illusco swooped in to the rescue and pulled her next to him and Ghiacchio instead. "What are we watching?"

"Yea, Movie night is on the first weekend of every month. Gather the Familia and watch a movie." Gelato and Sorbet cuddled together on the couch, twirling each other's hair. "We decided you should choose this month, because you're new."

"So I'm part of the family??" (Y/N) lit up and the others smiled. She wore her heart on her sleeve, that one.

"Hey, don't focus on that. You make it sound so weird."Ghiacchio growled, a little more mellow today. "Choose a damn movie, and don't make it sappy."

"Die Hard."

"Huh?" they turned to her, a little confused. They honestly believed that girly girl would choose 'Snow White' or 'The Princess Bride', not really a classical action movie. "Come again?"

"Can we watch Die Hard?" A grin slowly spread on La Squadra's face.

"This kid is a good kid. Good find." Formaggio grinned, reaching over to ruffle her hair as she grinned and used Pesci boy in front of her as an arm rest.

"Have you ever watched this movie before?"

"No...?"

"Best christmas movie ever, Fishy, Trust me." She smiled, patting his carrot head. "It's got family, snow, action, great villain, great characters, and set the stage for action movies in a more realistic playing field where enemies are picked off one by one rather than having an unrealistic amount against one." She rambled.

Ghiaccio nodded in approval. That wasn't something even he could argue.

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