A.N.: Sorry this update took a while - it's been storming here every single day, so I have limited opportunity to post D:

Summary: Yamamoto goes undercover in Italy, chasing down the boss of the famiglia that hurt Gokudera.


Ah, adrenaline. The surge of newfound strength, the absence of fear, the intensity of focus. Every battle is the same – a big rush of adrenaline accompanied by the thrill of a near death experience. To say I enjoy what fighting brings is an understatement.

It's been a little over a month since Gokudera was flown back to Japan – I stayed behind in Italy to do some undercover work for Tsuna on the Greco Mafia famiglia – the bastards that were hunting us down the moment we arrived. They used to be a powerful force, but over the past few decades, their power has drastically dwindled, mostly because of a blood feud that split the famiglia into two factions – Ciaculli, and Croceverde Giardini. The sons of the former bosses of the two factions have established an unsteady peace for now.

Salvatore Greco, the current boss if the Ciaculli faction, also known as "The Engineer" was the man who ordered the attack. Supposedly he's been on the run from the police for a long time – the last time he was seen was in 2001. Apparently the bastard is still alive, and hiding out somewhere here in Italy. It's my job to track him down and report back to Tsuna – nothing more.

It's only inevitable that I stupidly walk into an ambush, provided by the Engineer himself.

Only in tight spaces do I wish I fought with something other than my katana, but it's only for a moment because I always find a way to quickly adapt to a situation. Even though it's been a while since I last clashed with these idiots, their intelligence hasn't improved one bit. I manage to win the short encounter, sporting only minor bruises on my back, and small cuts on my arms.

I tap the small wireless device attached to my ear. "Hey, anybody there?" Although the connection sucks, I'm in contact with our mini-base back home.

"What do you want, idiot?" Gokudera's gruff voice crackles over the tiny speakers, bringing a smile to my face.

"Just took care of another surprise package. Capo Greco really has some idiot soldiers," I say with a small laugh.

"Che," he mutters. He's silent for a long minute before he says anything more. "Just be careful, idiot. Oh, and your Italian still sucks."

With that, the line goes dead, leaving me standing in the middle of a dark alley, surrounded by unconscious or dead Mafiosi, puzzling over what he said to me. Gokudera, the explosive Italian who hated my guts, was worried about me? That was new.


Four hours later, I'm relaxing in my hideout that has been my home for the past three weeks, scanning the security footage I managed to secure, as well as the activity around the supposed Ciaculli Greco headquarters. I hate being undercover – it's so boring sometimes, and all you do most of your days is sit on your ass doing surveillance. I can't wait to get back to Japan where things will feel normal again, or until I bust this elusive guy. For once, I want to do something actually useful.

I almost don't notice it because I'm focusing on something else, but the movement draws my attention to it. Something is happening around the headquarters – some kind of business transaction. I open up the connection Gokudera set up and send him the live footage. "Hey, 'Dera."

"What?" Grouchy as usual. Surprisingly, he doesn't bother trying to get me to say his full name – either he's past annoyed, or he's started to like the nickname.

"Looks like the Greco have a business meeting going on of some sorts. Can you understand anything they're saying?"

"If you shut the hell up I might be able to hear something," he retorts.

So I shut up, and wait patiently, listening to Gokudera muttering to himself as he studies the screen.

"How close are you?"

"What?" The question takes me by surprise – I was completely zoning out.

"How close are you to their base now?"

"Um, less than a block away. Why?" I sit up in my chair, watching the footage closely, even though I have no idea what the hell is going on.

"You see the old-looking guy in the back? That's Salvatore, and he's going to stand out there for a while longer – long enough to get a tracker on him if you're careful." I haven't heard Gokudera sound this excited about something this big in a while – it's good to hear.

"Relax, 'Dera, I got this," I say with a laugh as I exit through the back door of my hideout.

He grunts, but says nothing more.


This is the part I love about undercover work – all the sneaking around, getting to know the back roads – the fun stuff. In no time, I'm right next door to the Ciaculli HQ, and I can hear at least three voices arguing in rapid-fire Italian. Gokudera speaks softly so he doesn't startle me.

"Salvatore is going to be on your left – goddammit, wave at the camera so I can see you. You look just like them," he complains, referring to the subordinate guards Salvatore has posted outside the alleyway. It's strange that no one's really noticed me yet. I slip into the alley, unnoticed. "Dead ahead – the balding guy with the striped tie."

I barely nod my head in acknowledgement – now I just need to find a way to tag our target and high-tail it out of there. I crouch down in the shadows and wait for the opportune moment, the tiny tracking device near invisible between my fingers.

"Now!" Gokudera's whisper is all I need before I'm in action. Quick and silent as a shadow, I dart up behind the Ciaculli capo and attach the tracker to the underside of his jacket lapel with nothing more than a light touch before I sprint down the alley, no longer bothering with stealthy. Let them catch me. If they can.


I hang out in the crowds, pretending to be a fascinated tourist, for about two hours before I finally lose the last three Mafiosi that were trailing me. I grab something to eat from a street vendor and relax at a covered table. I'm exhausted, and with good reason – one fight and another near death experience in less than twelve hours? I'm ready to head home – my job here is done.

A shadow falls over me as I sit there and I immediately tense up, my hand creeping towards my katana, which is lying across my lap. "You don't make yourself easy to find, you know that? Che, stupid idiot…"

It takes all my willpower to not tackle him then and there.


Notes:

The Greco famiglia actually exists and is still active in Italy today. It is split into two main factions, the Ciaculli and the Croceverde Giardini, although the two get along a little better today. The Greco used to be one of the most powerful mafia groups until a blood vendetta (feud) tore the famiglia apart. Salvatore "The Engineer" Greco's whereabouts really are unknown. No one knows if he's still alive or not, and he hasn't been captured by police. The last the authorities heard of him was in 2001.

Capo is Italian for "head" or "boss," as well as a lot of other words that have the same meaning as leader. Where do you think the word decapitate (lit. to take off the head) came from?