Paperwork, the bane of all life.

༻𖥸༺

SQUALO HAD LEARNED, THROUGH trial and error, to read Boss' moods whenever he was feeling cagey about displaying his flames outwardly and held them clamped down inside.

It was all in the alcohol. Literally.

Tequila was a really good mood, one that if the Varia assassins were made aware of, could last for days.

Brandy was grumpy, more than his usual self and prone to shooting the messenger.

Whiskey was the default ambiance, the one that everyone knew how to work around, flying projectiles notwithstanding.

Gin is getting a ball of Wrath Flames to the face for whatever Stupid you did that put him in that mood in the first place.

Sake was generally reserved for when the Vongola bullshit hit the fan.

Vodka was when Boss was in a playful mood, usually ending up with teasing his officers and airing out everyone's dirty laundry, because Boss knew everything about everyone and he was an asshole.

Absinthe was... He wouldn't even go there. It generally meant that he was in a piss-poor mood and to be left alone, else you'd find yourself one head shorter. The last time Boss drank absinthe was a time about which everyone in the Varia vowed to never speak about.

(Father Gregori had a few visitors added to his sermons after that day.)

Right now, Boss was nursing a plate of sake while glaring at a few papers on his desk, willing 一yet not fully committing一 to burn them. Vongola bullshit then.

"Voi, Boss," Making his presence known一not that he needed to, really一The Second Sword Emperor placed a small stack of papers on the dark wooden desk. "The Pack have finished their mission."

Backtracking a few steps, Squalo launched himself on the sofa in Boss' office, falling face-first in its uncomfortable as fuck cushions. Why his Sky hadn't burned it yet was an ongoing mystery.

"Shark."

He let out a humm, uncaring but still listening because not listening to Boss generally ended up with him having to wash out alcohol from his hair一 which, not a fun activity.

He just wanted to spend maybe half an hour with his Sky before having to go back to dealing with his unhinged Rains. They somehow managed to get together and copy his ice trick as a collective and were now abusing the hell out of it. A show of Varia Quality, but a pain in the ass nonetheless.

"Vongola party next week. Bring guardians. You're coming."

Well fuck him sideways. He should have left after dropping off the report.