He watched with a rare seriousness the laptop's monitor. Squalo's every swing of the arm, twist of his spine, jump of the foot; none of it escaped Yamamoto's notice. Lussuria briefly took up the screen with a victory sign, but past him was the long haired swordsman, smirking in that wicked way he did, a gleam of arrogance in his cold eyes. "Squalo..." he murmured, unknowingly drawing closer to the screen. The Vongola's rain guardian watched ever so closely as Squalo's figure approached. The movement of his body, carried with a vain sense of pride and mysteriously shrouded with a veil of subconscious knowing, made Yamamoto's spine tingle as he pulled backed quickly from the screen. He admired the Varia's swordsman in a way that could be best described as, "for his skill, and not the side he fought on." But another factor played apart of his admiration.
"Voi! Only victory has its rewards. Wasn't it the same for that ring!?" the voice of Squalo said, almost staring at Yamamoto through the monitor. He could feel his face gradually fade into that trademark smile of his, a lazy look of appreciation filling his eyes. How did that Squalo always know? "Squalo..." Yamamoto said, this time with an air of sweet, innocent longing to meet him once again. If the mafia was a game, then Squalo was the character that had the dynamic impact on him.