Author's Note: I do not own Katekyo Hitman Reborn; it's all written for fun and no profit whatsoever.

This is set in an alternate time line, assuming Tsuna and the others alter the future when they return to the present. In this story, they are adults, so keep that in mind. They've all grown up a bit.

This can be considered a companion piece to "Vow" in terms of similar issues raised, but I kind of changed Haru's "career," and "Vow" and "Haven" are not directly related nor do they follow the same time line. I was just playing around with this, and come to think of it, I ought to have made them directly related. Oh, well. For now, take them as two separate stories.

Madness.

That's what it felt like sometimes. Despite "mafioso" meaning to display honorable, noble characteristics, according to Reborn – despite every effort Tsuna made to paint over the Vongola's violent past with a brighter future – Yamamoto's life as the Rain Guardian could be complete and utter madness at times.

More than ten years had he held his beloved sword – a killing weapon – in hand along with the strange powers granted to him. More than once had he sent a person to their demise. Slash, stab, avoid the bullets! Ambush from here, don't speak of this, and make sure he's dead.

And to think he'd once been a seventh-grader believing it was just a fun game to pass the time with. Years of experience had certainly turned that belief around.

However, battle-hardened Yamamoto still considered himself human with human emotions, vulnerabilities, desires, and needs. Like now, he wished for a beautiful spring day to toss a baseball around with a friend or two. Instead, he walked alleyways under pouring rain (even constant rain got to him sometimes, when he wasn't in a very good mood to begin with), searching for the those responsible for attacking the Cavallone mansion earlier in the day.

And staying in Italy for a few weeks was supposed to be enjoyable; a vacation to spend wandering around historical spots and shopping, although the shopping bit was intended for someone else.

But such was life in the mafia. Yamamoto was used to it by now, even if he found himself lost in the craziness and caught up in the adrenaline at times. However, lately, his thoughts were filled with lost dreams and an uncertain future. Baseball was still a passion. He certainly didn't regret going back to the Vongolas, for he cared dearly for his friends, and didn't want any harm to come to them whatsoever. However, his life's dream since childhood had been to make it to the pros. If he had stayed and succeeded, what a proud moment that would be! Not many fulfilled their childhood dreams, and ended up in a dull job, just trying to get by.

He knew he could've made it, but family and friends were just too important. But maybe, just maybe. . .he could do both? Be a hitman and a baseball player? An absurd idea, but not one unappealing. It wasn't like he was needed all the time, and baseball wasn't year-round. But both called for a strong commitment. Failing to uphold his allegiance to the boss and to the coach because of battles or games – too much to do, too much time it would take. If he were all powerful and omnipresent, he could pull it off.

But he was only a human being—a human being about to get shot if he didn't act quickly.

"You die now, hee, hee, hee!" A small man with a gun dashed forward through the puddles, seeming to have appeared out of nowhere. There were rumors of very strong foes but with weaker minions. This little guy looked like the latter.

He had no chance against the Rain Guardian.

Soon, all mafiosi were back the Cavallone headquarters, about to depart for the Vongola headquarters.

"Thanks for the help, everyone," Dino said, addressing Tsuna, Yamamoto, Gokudera, Sasagawa, and some of the Cavallone subordinates. "I could've handled it myself, but I wanted to capture them as quickly as possible to avoid endangering the citizens. That's why I enlisted your help. Thought you could use the exercise." The blonde boss allowed a half-smile.

So went the rational, sugar-coated explanation. Not that Yamamoto doubted Dino's words, but the Rain Guardian was certain that the enemy had been hunted out of revenge, too, for the deaths of a few Cavallone men.

As a token of thanks, Dino had the Vongolas travel back by helicopter in order to return as soon as possible, for it was nearly 11 PM. Yamamoto, for one, was extremely grateful. Drenched with a bit of blood on his suit, he desperately wanted a hot shower, and then sink into those ultra-soft beds in the many guest rooms of the Vongola mansion.

About a half hour later, Yamamoto silently walked down the hallways, voices of his comrades fading behind him as each one bid good night and retired to their rooms. He reached his own bedroom and tried to open the door without making a sound. Inside, all was dark except for a small stream of moonlight by the blinded windows. He paused to listen, hearing only her light, steady breathing. Good. He smiled, and made his way to the personal bathroom.

After shedding his wet clothes with a bit of difficulty, because wet clothes were always a pain to remove, Yamamoto stepped into the shower, thinking about Haru. She was another reason for rethinking the mafia life. Having endured fatherly advice, father-in-law threats, and good, old ribbing from friends, the twenty-six-year-old knew what was expected of him, and he personally intended to be the best husband he could possibly be. But that was becoming slightly difficult.

Job security wasn't an issue, so they could more than afford a comfortable way of living, even with the extra money Haru made through her home business of costume-designing. And just to pass time and help out, Yamamoto ran his family's sushi shop part-time.

What was troubling was the fact that he did go away for a couple of weeks every now and then, leaving her alone and the neighbors to wonder. They knew he wasn't a businessman, so the excuse of overseas trips made no sense. Haru used "participating in sushi-making competitions" to satisfy their curiosity, but he'd wager that some of them remained suspicious.

The key problem was that Haru potentially could be in danger if his enemies ever found out about his wife. So far, there'd been no problems, and the two of them could live a relatively normal life in spite of his double life. But there was always that fear, that doubt that haunted his dreams. He dreaded the possibility of coming home one day to find a ransom note or Haru dead.

And then there was the time issue again. Yamamoto knew Haru looked forward to being a mother someday, and he wanted to give that to her. He'd seen the way she looked at Dino's young daughter, an adoring expression very apparent on her face. Plus, he much liked the idea of being a father himself. Having another baseball fanatic or successor to the Shigure Souen style running around the house sounded rather nice. Oh, and he wouldn't mind a girl, either. Then perhaps he would understand how Haru's father felt on her wedding day and why the Miura cried buckets upon entrusting his only daughter into the care of Yamamoto (although the Rain Guardian didn't think he would get that emotional).

Without a doubt, Haru and the kids would come first in his life. They required more of his time than baseball and the mafia did. Even if he retired early, he would always keep his vow of silence and never speak of the Vongolas or anyone else, for that matter. Their unpleasant secrets would be safe with him because they would be packed away tightly with his own.

Yamamoto sighed. All this thinking was making him very weary and anxious to sleep. He turned the water off, stepped out, grabbed a towel, and made for the door. He'd forgotten to bring clean clothes in with him. Good thing for his excellent night vision.

Tightening his towel around his waist, Yamamoto made his way to the drawers.

"Hahi! Who's there?" Haru suddenly cried out.

Only midway in opening one drawer, he nearly jumped out of his skin before dissolving into chuckles. "It's only me." He heard her feel for the lamp, and grinned down at her when she blinked repeatedly at the sudden light. "Hey."

"Takeshi!" Haru declared, adjusting the strap of her nightgown as she sat up in bed. "You're back so late, what happened? Is everything all right?"

He gazed at her for a moment, admiring the way her shoulder-length hair framed her cute face. Then he inwardly corrected himself, for "cute" described the middle schooler Haru. The lovely lady before him deserved worthier words, like gorgeous. Stunning. Breathtakinglybeautiful; bella. How often had he brushed back soft strands of her hair to lose himself in her eyes (which she claimed to be her third charm point, and he could never figure out where that came from) while she blushed at his touch, fumbling over her words to get him to stop embarrassing her and being so serious. Those moments he quite enjoyed—missed. He wondered why such a pure woman stayed with a man like him.

"Takeshi?"

"Huh? Oh." He sheepishly scratched the back of his head. "Yeah, everything is all right." No need to worry her unnecessarily. "I guess I talked with Tsuna a little longer than I thought."

Haru fell back against the pillows, groaning dramatically. "Haru was in the middle of such a wonderful dream! Every day was Haru Appreciation Day!"

Yamamoto chuckled again, grabbing a pair of pajama bottoms, deciding to go shirtless in order to compensate for the warm night. At the same time, he thought about how she didn't immediately ask about Tsuna. Years ago, she would have pelted him questions about Tsuna's well-being, and then ask Yamamoto about how he was doing.

Minutes later, he emerged from the bathroom once more, happy that sleep was around the corner. He settled in beside her, feeling as though the sheets, coverlet, and pillows were made of clouds. Ah, this was the good life! His eyelids drooped.

"Are we still going to Rome tomorrow?" Haru suddenly asked, leaning on her elbow to face him.

"If you want to," he answered, opening his eyes to look up at her. "Do you?"

"Of course! Haru hasn't been to Rome yet, and I'm really looking forward to it. Hahi, I can't wait!"

Her excitement over big and small things always heartened him. He needed that like he needed oxygen to breathe. She was his oxygen.

"Takeshi seems quiet tonight." Haru eyed him with concern. "Are you feeling OK?"

As about as OK as a man can be after a brawl, Yamamoto thought. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just tired," he replied with a smile.

Her eyes drifted downwards, and he knew she must be looking at the scar stretching from his side to stopping short of the abs. She frowned, apparently thinking, and he could guess what of.

Haru's gaze moved back to his face, and she reached out with one finger, touching the scar below his mouth. "First this one, then. . ." She gave a short sigh. "Haru can't do anything about it, so I'll just have to deal with it," she said, briefly tracing his jaw line before plopping back down on the bed, but not before switching the lamp off, drowning the room in darkness.

Earlier thoughts returned to him. Yamamoto chanced a question: "Haru. . .do you want me to leave the mafia?"

Haru said nothing for awhile. Finally, she answered very seriously, "I'd like that, but I don't mind if you stay." She paused, then added cheerfully (much to his relief), "Besides, Haru's a mafioso's wife! Haru's got to be tough enough to handle such a responsibility!"

Yamamoto couldn't help smiling, feeling immense comfort wash over him. Suddenly, his problems didn't seem so mountainous anymore. Yamamoto knew he would sort them all out in time, and until then, he would live for the here and now. "Thank you. . .Haru."

She snuggled closer to him, resting her head on his chest. "Just come home, OK?"

That was the kind of person his spunky Haru was. Always very supportive and trusting of him, no matter how many times he was called away or unable to speak of certain elements of his work. And in the end, he was at peace – despite his chained feet and burdened shoulders – in returning to his haven called Haru.

"I will."