Disclaimer: I don't own Katekyo Hitman Reborn; while I wish I did, I don't.

So, this chapter/one-shot provides a little bit about the Vongola/Varia/Cavalonne (Dino) before they move underground. There is some connection to Memories and Countdown (if anyone is wondering or confused).

After the Last Shot

The Vongola mansion in Italy was not the brightest place in the world. Subordinates had flocked to the mansion to pick up missions while others started packing for resignation.

Three of the Vongola Guardians were also at the mansion: the Rain Guardian, the Storm Guardian, and the Lightning Guardian.

Gokudera strode into the office of his late beloved boss and best friend. The room remained untouched since the Family had gone to Japan for a while. The battle with the Millefiore drowned the Vongola in a deep trench of sorrow and depression; lives were lost on both sides but mostly for the Vongola including the most important life to a great deal of people even outside the Family.

The silver-haired Storm Guardian made his way to his boss's desk, looking for any unfinished business he left behind. As he came up to the old, sturdy wood, he glanced down at seven scorch marks the size of rings and a new wave of sorrow and revelation bubbled to the surface. If the Sky had not burned the rings, he might have lived. Gokudera averted his gaze towards the papers that littered the head of the Vongola's desk.

On a pad of paper, a note with a to-do list sat over the files of the eliminated Families that Gokudera had brought in. Next to the stack was a tray of mixed old and new mail that had accumulated over the Vongola's short period of absence. He picked up the pad and read the list, which extended to a new page in the pad. It ended with a final notation: Connected to Vongola—dangerArcobaleno. Green orbs widened before narrowing to slits and the man angrily stuffed the pad of paper into his pocket. He was mad at himself for not realizing the connection before his friend was killed and not noticing the dangerous enemy would also attack the Arcobaleno.

He moved onto the mail, setting his anger aside to a corner of his mind to be thought more upon later.

Pale hands picked up the stack of letters and magazines and thumbs flipped through the papers until it reached an envelope for airmail, not too far from the top of the assortment. On the outside of the letter, the kanji read: Sasagawa Kyoko.

He took the letter-opener he had gotten his boss for Christmas years ago off the desk and ripped open the top of the envelope and began reading the parchment.

Dear Tsu-kun,

I heard that your business trip to Italy has been stressing you out a lot lately. My brother told me that you've been juggling a lot of things on your platter.

Haru, Hana, and I went out for some cake at Namimorinu that cake store we used to go to all the time. We couldn't believe how popular that store still was after all this time. We also went shopping for some clothes and gifts for you guys. The gifts were bought from that underground shopping mall—you remember it, right? It was crowded as always!

Anyways, I know you're busy, Tsu-kun, but I'm worried about your health. You were always a little thin to begin with, but it seems like you get so frail that you'll break when there's something heavy on your shoulders. Tsu-kun, please remember, no matter how much burden you try to take from others, it'll always just make things harder. While you're doing everything to hold all the food you've piled on your plate, everyone will worry about your safety. You once told me that your worst fear was losing your friends. It's just as hard as it is on you as it is on all of us. So, don't work yourself to death, Mr. Boss!

I miss you, so come back as soon as you can, Tsu-kun!

Love,

Kyoko

P.S. I thought I saw you at the park one day, but when I thought about it, I realized it couldn't have happened! I feel kind of bad for confusing you with someone else, so…I'm sorry!

Gokudera's hand shook, causing the paper in his hand to vibrate. Water welled in his eyes, coming down in a soft sprinkle onto the paper. Yamamoto's hoarse voice repeated in his mind: It's funny…Hibari told me that day he went on a stroll, he was at the park playing with little children. Actually…rather than funny, it's cruel. In such a short amount of time, someone so kind and full of life ends up gone forever…

The Storm Guardian fell onto his knees, clutching onto the letter with his life. He realized that Tsuna was never planning on telling Kyoko he'd be going to Japan and he now he really couldn't tell Kyoko about his death. It was already bad enough that the Vongola was suffering and what would he tell her? That he was involved with the mafia the entire time? That he was the boss of one of the most powerful and respected Families in all the world? That he was the man she saw in Japan when he wasn't supposed to return for months more?

It would break her and all that she remembered Tsuna as.

The Rain Guardian walked through the rainbow roses of the Vongola mansion's garden. The flowers that had once been buds had still blossomed beautifully after persevering through rain, thunder, and storm. Yamamoto, however, did not stop to admire their beauty and continued to walk aimlessly through the field of thorns, leafs, and petals.

A soft cool breeze rustled the tree greens against each other under the clear twilight sky and the black-haired Japanese man looked up at the orange sky, reminded of his close childhood friend. Toffee eyes closed and met a strangely comforting darkness. Tears escaped, squeezing under protective lids. His heart ached and the fading pain on his scarred chin synchronized with memories of a fall.

Promise me, that no matter what happens, you won't kill yourself over it and instead, you'll go on strong.

"I promise…" Yamamoto whispered to the wind, swallowing the temptations that attempted to persuade him.

Lambo sat more quiet than usual on the couch in the Vongola's guest room. In his hands was a pair of old horns, which he fiddled with between his fingers. Only one thing ran through the teen's mind this time; it wasn't school; it wasn't sweets; it wasn't girls; it was his "brother".

A nearly all white and glass building penetrated the skies of Italy. Transparent panes lead into the main lobby of this tower and an Italian walked into this modern monster's den.

"Excuse me," the man asked at the registration desk. "I was sent by Irie Shoichi to be Master Byakuran's assistant. Is it possible that you could tell me which floor he is staying on?" The clerk looked up at the man. He was younger than she, probably in his late twenties, and had black hair, the complete opposite of her boss's.

"Are you by any chance Mr. Leonardo Lippi?" she questioned.

He smiled, "Why yes, yes I am."

The clerk nodded, a little doubtful after sensing a bit of mischief and evil in his smile. "I see, we were expecting you a bit later, but it's good that you're early. Right now, Master Byakuran is resting a bit in his room. But, he had me arrange a task for you when you came." She took a paper from a file cabinet under the desk and handed the sheet to the man. "On here is the address where you can pick up your work uniform and a few things Master Byakuran wants done."

The man took the paper, reading over the list. "I see; I'll get started on these right away."

"By all means," she gave a bow as a gesture of thanks. "Please have a safe trip."

"Thank you," he nodded his head as a response to the bow.

As he left the building, he looked up at the sky. There was a smirk on his face and twisted pain. "Kufufu…Just wait, Tsunayoshi…I'll come visit you after I've dealt vengeance…"

"Mr. Kusakabe!" A man came running into the room, the only subordinate of the Foundation that didn't have a pompadour. His senior looked at the panting man, who took a Polaroid from his pocket and offered it to him. "Please, take a look at this!"

Kusakabe looked up at the subordinate with a bowed head then down at the picture. Then he took the image and looked at the one-thousand words printed on the sheet. His eyes widened, "This is—"

"Chrome Dokuro," the subordinate finished. Kusakabe turned back to the man in silent askance. "She was at Narita Airport; the picture was actually taken a week ago before the Vongola…" He stopped, unable and wanting to finish the sentence; he had several friends in the Family and most of them didn't survive the battle. "Anyways, we have reason to believe that if Chrome Dokuro is alive, then—"

"Rokudou Mukuro is," Kusakabe concluded. He got up immediately, taking a black phone from his pocket and began dialing numbers.

Blood and an unconscious body with twisted limbs lay on a cluttered floor. Standing beside him was a man with black hair and a pair of tonfa, lit with a purple flame. He stooped down and took a ring off the man's hand, the only part of the fallen body that wasn't twisted or bloody.

The man stood again, examining his treasure. "Hardly a struggle for someone with such a high class ring," he said to himself as he stuffed the band into his pocket. It made a light clink as it hit the other rings hidden in his coat.

Without apprehension, he left the broken body on the ground and the dark alleyway where it rested. His tonfa had returned to their box and he walked as casually as he could through the crowded cobblestone streets.

"Midori tanabiku Namimori no…" the man quickly flipped out his cellphone before the crowd could locate the origin of the noise. He remained quiet until the man on the other end—the only one who knew his new number—spoke.

"Kyou? It's Kusakabe," the man announced. Like he didn't already know that. "We have found evidence that Rokudou Mukuro is still alive. Chrome was seen at the airport in disguise. Next to her was a man that had hid his face for the most part, but it would seem as though the two knew each other."

"I see," he murmured. "Did you tell the Vongola yet?"

There was a small silence. "Was I…supposed to?"

"You were, but that's fine, seeing as to how the person this information was meant for is no longer with us," he replied, fixing his gaze on a white cloud solitarily floating across an expanse of fading twilight. "Just withhold the information until we can get better proof. There's a chance that Chrome can live off illusions without him now. It would only make things worse if we raised the hopes of the Vongola only for it to be shot down again."

"Understood."

"Is that all you have for me?"

"Yes," he replied.

"I'll be coming back to Japan in about a week or two. When I'm sure, I'll give you an exact date."

"Understood. At that time, would you like me to pick you up from the airport?"

"No, I'll come back myself," he announced. "Well then, I have other matters to attend to."

"Yes, sir. Please stay safe while in Italy."

"Hn," he hung up, closing his phone with one hand and slid it back into his pocket. He walked over to a bench next to a restaurant and sat on the assembly of wooden boards and leaned backwards, closing his eyes as he rested his head on the top of the bench's back. The sky slowly darkened and in place of the sun, a street light began fighting back the darkness.

"Kyouya? Is that you?"

The man kept his eyes clothes; he had no reason to chat—not even chat, he would just be listening to ramblings—with the man that had called his name. His plan didn't work and within a few seconds the shadow of a Mafioso was over him. He opened his eyes only enough to see the man. Blond hair, blue eyes; it was exactly who he thought it was.

"I knew it. It is you," he smiled softly. There were dark bags under his eyes and his hair was sloppily fixed; his clothes were wrinkled and the twinkle in his eyes had faded to a dim glow. He was paler and thinner.

The Cavalonne Boss took the empty space next to the Foundation's leader and reclined in the bench as well. He took out a cigarette and put it between his lips. Just as he took out a silver lighter, the cigarette was snatched away. The blond man looked next to the black-haired man in shock.

"I don't like the smell," he explained.

The blond-haired man smiled, knowing that it was his former student's way of saying: "Smoking is unhealthy." He capped the lighter and put it back into his pocket and exchanged it with a box of wrapped tobacco. "Here, take these, too then."

The black-haired man glanced down at the cancer sticks and took them, pushing them into his ring-filled pocket. "You look weaker than usual. To even resort to smoking…are you that shaken by Sawada's death?"

There was a relaxed smile on the older man's face. "I know Romario and everyone is worried about me, but I just can't do anything properly."

"It's not as if you could do anything without your subordinates before."

"That's not what I mean and you know that. Tsuna was my 'little brother'. Don't you think I'd be sad? I'm a little surprised at how well you can mask your feelings."

"Why would I shed any worry or tears over that Herbivore? Only the strong survive."

Dino let out a laugh, which caused his companion to glare at him, daring him to laugh more, but he ignored it. "You're starting to sound a little bit like Xanxus."

"Don't group me with that weakling," he muttered. Silence came between the two, but the light chattering of people in the streets stole the stage.

"So, I've heard you've been on a ring hunt," Dino said, trying to think of something to distract him from the sound of Italian.

"Hn."

"Have you been using the ones I gave you?"

"What makes you think otherwise? It may have been a gift I was forced to take, but it would be rude of me to leave them to rust."

Dino chuckled, "How unlike you to think of not being rude. That—"

"Cavalonne."

He stopped, looking over at the Vongola's Cloud Guardian, who was now standing. "Yes? What is it?"

"I had dinner plans for a business transaction, but the other party is unable to make it any longer. He faced some complications and is unable to move anymore. The cancellation fee for the reservation is costly for this restaurant. It's a pain, but I guess I'll have to pay for it."

Dino smiled, understanding the other's language perfectly. He rose, only a bit taller than his former student. "Instead of paying the fee, how about I accompany you?"

The Japanese man began walking in the direction of the restaurant. "That's fine, but if you buy something more expensive than the cancellation fee, it becomes your treat."

Dino followed closely behind, "Understood, Kyouya."

As they walked down the cobblestone streets, the older one smiling, the translation of the younger man's words replayed in his mind: I'm worried about you. Let's go out and eat.

Long shining silver trailed as heavy steps led leather boots to an ornate door. "Voi!" A loud voice growled as a hand slammed the door open.

A glass, once full of vodka, hit the armrest of a very pompous Italian's chair. "What do you want, Trash?" he muttered.

The "trash" ignored his comment, keeping a collected expression. It would take more than name calling to boil him as it did in the past. He leaned against the doorframe. "Did you hear about that fish from the Vongola, Boss?"

Red eyes narrowed towards the pale man. "What about that trash?" he grumbled, distracting himself by pouring a new glass of his precious alcohol.

"He's dead," the silver-haired swordsman announced, "as well as several other subordinates of the Vongola—the Mist Guardian included…"

The golden liquid almost overfilled the glass, but the supply was cut off just as it reached the edge of its new container. "So that weakling finally kicked the can, did he?" The transparent rim touched the lips of the seated man and the liquid was finished in gulps. "About time…"

"What are your orders? Should we take over the—" Before he could finish, the half empty bottle of vodka came into contact with his head. The glass shattered and the cold alcohol soaked his hair. "Voi! What was that for?" he growled.

"Trash…why would you even try and order me to do something?" The seated man glared coldly at the drenched subordinate in front of him. "Stupid bloody trash…There's no point in taking over the Vongola when they aren't at their strongest. Don't you know anything?" he snapped.

The silver-haired man wiped away the long wet strands from his face. Under his boss's hard exterior, he could see his true anger and sorrow leak from his single weak point. "Understood," the silver-haired man dragged his feet to the door. "And what should we do with what's left in Marmon's account?"

There was a silence, but the subordinate didn't dare look back. He didn't want to see his boss weak; this was the man he was supposed to follow.

"Give it to the 'prince'. He can do whatever he wants with it."

The Italian by the door lingered for a few seconds.

"Aren't you going to leave yet, Trash?" There was no growl or disgust in his tone, just an eerie calm.

"I'll send up some more vodka."

"You'd better."

"Is this a promotion?" the blond-haired prince asked as a pale silver-haired swordsman came out of the shower room.

"Who knows," the man replied, tousling his hair inside a white towel. "Boss just said you could use the money for whatever you liked."

A smile graced the prince's lips, "Really? Anything? What if I buy a ridiculous hat for a ridiculous replacement?"

"Do what you want," the swordsman answered, uninterested and detached.

"You're no fun either, Squalo. Right now you should be yelling: don't buy anything stupid." Again, there was no reaction from the swordsman, just a grunt. "What's wrong, you stupid shark?"

The swordsman remained silent even as the blond-haired man approached him with several knives out.

"Oi, Squalo," the prince dug the tip of one blade into the soft flesh under the pale man's chin. Red liquid dripped from the hidden point and slid down the edge of the blade and onto soft hands and Persian rug. "Why don't you say something?"

"Do I need to?" he muttered.

"Who are you thinking about? That stupid fish? Marmon? Or maybe even Vongola's Rain Guardian?"

Squalo lowered the knives away from his throat. "None, now get to work," he growled.

His lips pursed in disgust, "You're no fun, either. Let's go you peeping un-cute subordinate!"

As the prince said so, a person appeared behind Squalo. He let out a sigh and followed his senior with a click of his tongue. "Master's not going to be happy," he mumbled.

"What was that, Mr. Peeping Tom?"

"Nothing," he replied emotionlessly. "I just clicked my tongue by accident."

"Lying is bad."

"I honestly wasn't lying, Mister Belphegor," he responded slightly louder to emphasize his pure intentions and true "feelings".

"Yuuta! It's time to go home!"

A small boy looked up towards his mother from the sandbox, but he didn't move.

She sighed, staring at her son in worry and impatience, "Yuuta…"

"I don't want to go home! Not yet!" he protested.

"It's getting dark, we have to get home before Daddy does," his mother tried to reason with the kindergartner but to no avail.

"No! I don't want to! I still want to play!"

She let out a sigh again, "Yuuta…" As she did so, a woman with long orange hair walked by talking with her dark brown-haired friend. The orange-haired woman stopped and turned towards the park, squatting next to the little boy.

"Hey, little one, it's getting late. If you don't go home with Mommy, she'll be sad and worried. Do you want to make Mommy sad?" she asked softly.

Tears started to form in the huddled boy's eyes. "I-I don't want to go home yet. Bro still didn't come by. He said that he'd come by when he wasn't busy. It's already been a week!"

Sadness and sympathy mixed on the woman's face and she wiped away the boy's tears. "I know it's hard waiting for so long, but we have to be strong and wait for our friends and family to return to us. But waiting out in the cold won't do any good. It will only make them worry more. Do you want Brother to worry?"

The kindergartener shook his head.

"And it's cold, too, right? Do you want Mommy to get sick?"

There was another shake as the small boy tucked his head in his arms. The orange-haired lady smiled sweetly, picking up the boy in her arms. "Then let's get back to Mommy, okay?"

After a few second's of being held in warm arms, the little boy gave a small nod and was carried back to his mother, who took him and bowed her head in gratitude. She watched as the mother whispered to her son to say good-bye.

The boy lifted his head, eyes wet but no longer spilling tears. "Thank you, Big Sis. Chi-aossu…"

Her eyes widened in surprise, but then she started waving to the small boy as his mother carried him away. "There's no need to thank me," she smiled, "Ciao."

Then she stood under the moon and stars until her friend came up to her. "Hey, Kyoko, let's go now, okay?" There was silence, no reaction. "Kyo-ko!" she sang, "Kyo-ko, are you there?"

The orange-haired woman looked at her friend. "Um, yeah. Let's go. Hana's probably going to be worried, right?"

"Yeah," her friend smiled as they began to walk again. After they had left the park and were back to strolling down the sidewalk, the dark-haired girl finally spoke. "That boy knew Italian, right?" she asked.

"Yes," Kyoko answered, "he did. It kind of reminded me of little Reborn."

"What? Really?"

Kyoko nodded, looking up at the small glittering stars. She breathed in the crisp night air, releasing a relaxing breath after filling her lungs. "Yes, the way he said 'ciao' was like Reborn. He pronounced it 'chi-aossu'."

End After the Last Shot

It took a while to find a good place to end this, but I found it! ^^

Well, yeah…I just thought of all these extra little tidbits that I thought I'd add but I didn't want to make it a new chapter for Memories and the Countdown, so I made it it's own little one-shot. The best part is, that you don't necessarily have to read Memories and the Countdown to understand what's happening, so…yeah! ^^

Anyways, thanks for reading!

(And please write a review! X3)