Random Notes: Sorry this took forever, but I temporarily had to work four jobs. Now I'm back down to two, and life is so much simpler. Also, this chapter just did not want to be written. Bleh. Tried to finish Yamamoto's arc, but it just kept on dragging. Maybe next chapter?

For your reading pleasure (and with the advice from a cunning reviewer), I'm changing up the reviewer reward thing. Now, for all of the reviews in-between chapters, I'll choose a random prompt in that increment to be posted with the next applicable chapter. In other words, reviewer 19 can get their prompt chosen just as well as reviewer 2 or 25. Don't be shy! :D


Cultural Notes: Dead family members have a mini-shrine in each traditional Japanese household called a butsudan. It normally holds a picture of the deceased, a Buddha picture or statue, a religious text, candles, incense, offerings, or other items. These are basically a focus for spiritual reflection, as well as an area for generally reflecting on one's ancestors.

The number four represents death in Japan, and some buildings purposefully leave it out of the floor or design plans.

It's legally permissible to marry your first cousin in Japan. It's not exactly common, but not uncommon, either. Socially, it used to be more accepted than it is now. (Keep it in the family, haha.)

When a classmate dies, there are white flowers put in a vase on their desk. This is also used by bullies if they want to torment a living classmate; basically, putting a vase with white flowers on a living classmate's desk means that you wish they would die or everyone will act like they're dead.


Chapter 7: Visitations (Or, Haru Finds Everything Annoying)

Later that evening, Haru sat in front of the television eating vanilla pudding. She had dropped off Tsuna and his mom at the Sawada home by herself, as Gokudera stayed at the hospital later than the rest of the group. She refused to think deep thoughts, though. The mindless repetition of lift spoon, place in mouth, lower spoon, repeat, was soothing. Kamen Rider OOO on the screen was also familiar enough to be a comforting background noise, instead of a blaring distraction.

The spoon clanked against the jar of mayonnaise that she'd hidden her pudding in, methodically making sure to scrape the sides clean. Otou-san snuck one too many of her puddings before- so far, he hadn't found this one. She smirked to herself at her own cleverness.

Her smirk died though, as she returned to indulging in a bit of guilt. That boy- Yamamoto, according to Tsuna- still hadn't woken up by the time visiting hours had ended. Tsuna, although hyper as ever in attempting to keep the peace between her, Taicho, and Reborn, had moments where he listlessly stared out the window or at a blank bit of air.

It hadn't impacted his cooking though. God, she hadn't even known sukiyaki could taste like that. His mom had definitely done right by that boy. While it wasn't very manly, she could approve of Tsuna helping out in the kitchen if that was the result. She planned on spending as much time as possible at the Sawada home in the future to mooch more of that delectable food.

Although, speaking of Tsuna and hanging out... Ugh. She sighed around the spoon in her mouth. From what she remembered from her grandson's t.v. program- which, admittedly, wasn't much- the Yamamoto boy fought with a sword. Who knew if he was any good with it, though. Going by what she'd gleaned of his personality, he probably sucked at it. Actually, now that she thought about it, he probably just swung the sword like a baseball bat. And this was a character that was supposed to be protecting the women-folk and children?

Well, anyway, he'd be fine. Chances were that he'd bounce back like one of those cartoon characters that got hit with a piano and then walked it off. Voila, safe and sound, and back to being a Vongola meatshield.

So why was she wasting her time and feelings on that baseball idiot?

"It's not because I am nice," stated Kamen Rider OOO from the screen. Her face tilted up as she focused on his oddly appropriate words. "That's why I can't tell you to trust me. It's not like I can save everyone, right?"

She nodded, enraptured.

"But if I don't reach out my hand while I can, the regret would make me wish I were dead. I reach out my hand because I don't want that."

If she had been left alone for even a moment longer, a single tear may have made its way down Haru's face. It was likely that she would have vowed to be there for Yamamoto, and could have possibly atoned for her awkwardness with the Tomaso, and, chances were, she would have even done something (sort of) nice for Gokudera. A hug may have even been bestowed upon her ever-suffering Otou-san.

That being said, just as her eyes widened in preparation for extreme emotion, her father burst into the room.

"Haru~ Otou-san is back from- oh my god, what are you eating?!" he bellowed, pointing at the jar in her lap. "Nothing you do makes logical sense!"

Sometimes, Haru thought sourly to herself as she protectively hugged her pudding/mayo jar, Otou-san really knew how to spoil a dramatic moment.


Even after marathoning five hours of sentai shows (three of which Naito joined her through Skype), she had trouble falling asleep that night.


"So, it's confirmed then that we're all being terrible students and ditching school today?" asked Haru as she snuck up on Tsuna and Gokudera on the road to Nami-chu the next morning. She quickly glanced around and gave a mental sigh of relief; it seemed like Reborn was nowhere nearby. Yet.

"Hiiie!" shrieked Tsuna, practically jumping out of his skin. His flailing looked even more comical with the sling still covering his shoulder.

"How dare you surprise Tsuna-sama!" Gokudera shouted, as he automatically shifted his arm to move Tsuna behind him. Suddenly processing her words, he eloquently said, "Eh?"

Tsuna peeked out from behind his back, like a tiny bunny twitching its nose on a lovely spring morning. Haru felt her cheek-pinching instincts roar like they hadn't since her neighbor made the mistake of bringing her adorable toddler within grabbing distance. (She hadn't let Haru babysit since, the hoarding harpy.)

"Ditching. It's a thing we're doing. You with me, or are you with me?"

"D-don't you mean-" Tsuna tried to correct, but Haru interrupted, "No, I mean resistance is futile. Onwards, gentlemen." She paused. "And Taicho."

"And ruin Tsuna-sama's attendance record? -Hell no, hag," Gokudera said with a disdainful snort.

Haru kind of envied his casual, devil-may-care elegance. It was fairly difficult to snort without looking crass. She wondered if he was secretly a trust fund baby.

"You... want us to visit Yamamoto, don't you?" Tsuna half-asked, half-stated. Gokudera's huffy scowl suddenly transformed into a thoughtful one.

"Um, obviously?" she replied.

"What's in it for you, hag?" Gokudera finally asked. He stared right at her as he continued. "People like you don't act altruistically without benefiting somehow."

As Tsuna mouthed the word "altruistic" to himself, Haru crossed her arms and nonchalantly said, "What, you don't think I can't be moved by a handsome young man recovering from terrible wounds?"

What she didn't say was, One night of nightmares was more than enough. A nearly nonexistent tremor shook her body as she remembered a different body made broken by a fall, before she mentally chased the thought away with a bristled broom.

Tsuna's eyes shone an odd amber in the morning light. "Hmm... I think I agree. What do you think, Taichou?" He paused. "Maybe we should bring a nice flower arrangement?"

After taking in Tsuna, who was muttering something about ikebana, and then staring at her, Gokudera sighed. "As long as Tsuna-sama doesn't mind, then fine. Let's go."

Haru paused. She awkwardly said, "Um, just as long as I'm the only one being influenced by a good-looking guy being injured. I mean." She coughed for dramatic effect. "It'd be kinda gay if Tsuna-san also wanted to nurse a cute guy back to health."

A volley of dynamite sticks landed at Haru's feet, followed swiftly by Gokudera screeching, "I refuse to tolerate your disrespect! Get back here wench!"

As she dodged Gokudera's attacks, she smirked and taunted, "I'm sorry, were you trying to give me a love tap?"

The walk to the hospital was filled with shrieks, laughter, bombs, and companionship.

It was about as much joy as they would feel for awhile.


"What do you mean we can't visit Yamamoto?! -We did it yesterday!" Gokudera argued with the pale-faced nurse.

The poor woman shook, and meekly said, "W-well, it was the w-wishes of the f-f-family, and, and there are c-complic-c-ations with his m-medical-"

"Ugh! You're useless to me! You!" He pointed at another nurse, and began his tirade anew.

Haru sighed, and crossed her legs and arms from her position on a nearby chair. It was amusing the first two times she had seen Gokudera intimidate the staff. Now it was getting old. And boring. And redundant.

Tsuna appeared to be wishing he could melt into his chair, his mortified face hiding behind a surprisingly delicate and tasteful flower arrangement. Even Tsuna's school uniform seemed to be drooping in embarrassment.

Finally, after hassling one more person, Gokudera charged into the third seat in their cluster.

"How the hell did they even get their licenses?! They're all absolutely useless!" He ranted.

Before he could destroy yet another hour through venting his frustration, Haru raised a hand. "Um, Taicho? -In five words or less, what's the deal?"

Gokudera glared at her, but upon seeing Tsuna's interest, gave in. "Idiots lacking essential medical history."

"What kind of medical history?" Tsuna asked.

Haru raised eight fingers. "Eight out of ten- nice word count, but it told us nothing we didn't already overhear you yelling about to the nurses."

Gokudera rolled his eyes and gave her the finger as almost an afterthought. "Apparently Yamamoto wasn't born in Namimori, so they're trying to get his complete medical records faxed over from the hospital he was born in. They were also mentioning something about the mother, but..." He shrugged. "They weren't exactly open about it."

Tsuna frowned in thought. "I thought Yamamoto's mother was dead," he said quietly, clearly remembering something. "He's the only other kid I know that doesn't have both parents around."

Gokudera and Haru twitched, and then traded shifty glances with each other that seemed to say, Me, Oh, You too?, Ah, Avoid the subject at all costs!

"So why is it so hard for them to fax over the files?" Haru asked, successfully dodging the awkward moment and bringing them back to the subject at hand. "And for that matter, why isn't he being allowed visitors?"

Gokudera rubbed a hand over his face and then rubbed the back of his neck. "Apparently the kid was swarmed with too many visitors, so the dad made sure that anyone that wanted to visit was approved by him."

And we weren't on the list, Haru thought, but didn't say. The looks on the boys' faces seemed to imply they were on the same page. And that it wasn't the page of the popular people.

"Also, something about the hospital in question having wifi issues, and the fax machine here having technical issues... it's all really moronic, and probably against codes and regulations. It really pisses me off," he growled.

"Isn't there some way we could pick it up for them?" asked Tsuna. "Hand-deliver it?"

"We could," Gokudera said slowly, clearly trying to think of a way to respectfully disagree. "But, tactically speaking, it would be better for one of us to go, so the others could stay here." He paused. "Um. For Yamamoto's sake," he added quickly, as if that wasn't obvious... unless he was trying to come up with an excuse to not have to travel. ...that transparent asshole. Haru was about to call him out on his bullshit, when Tsuna spoke up.

"Great idea, Taicho!" Tsuna said with a grin. With a blush lighting his face on fire, Gokudera attempted to convince Tsuna against calling him that name.

As they playfully went back and forth, Haru had a terrible, terrible feeling as to where this was going.


Two hours later found her armed with street clothes, a snack, and her purse on the bullet train to Tokyo. She knocked her forehead against the glass and groaned.

Clearly she needed better defenses against puppy eyes.

She hoped that the boys were suffering just as much as she was.


In the Miura household, Daisuke held up a hand-written note that said, "Dear Father, Went off to parts unknown for an undetermined length of time. Miso is in the fridge, try not to starve. Cheers, Haru."

After staring at the note, and then staring at the raw chunk of pre-packaged miso paste in the otherwise empty fridge, he promptly grabbed a beer from his emergency stash and went to pray for guidance in front of his wife's shrine.


Haru took in a deep breath of fresh air on the platform after exiting the train. And then she took another breath. And another.

If she'd had to stay in that compartment for a single minute longer, she would have murdered that handsy couple. Aside from blabbing some sort of gibberish story in oddly perfect New York accents about a rail tracer (whatever the hell that was), they kept groping each other, staring into each others' eyes, and cooing over how brilliant the other was. Everyone else in the car quietly freaked out as only the Japanese could in the face of such blatant love and exuberance.

Her eyes burned for a moment, before she shook her head roughly. Donald been gone for years, more than enough years, but it still felt like yesterday that he got down on one knee, proposed, and then told her (after she'd leapt into his arms and kissed him) that he still had a few payments left on the ring that, if she lent him a few bucks, he could win that night from the race track.

She sighed dreamily, even as the tears still shimmered in her eyes. Ethel always did love his sheer nerve and temerity. She'd whacked him good for that little joke of his.

Haru pulled up the directions she'd printed out, and began walking in the direction of the nearest hospital. Thankfully she wouldn't have to put up with a cab- city traffic was terrible enough that even the bicyclists seemed to be jammed in place.

After a brisk fifteen minute walk, she arrived a sleek, modern building with a wide entrance and a discreet emergency entrance on the side for ambulances. A small commotion drew her eye for a moment, and she, as well as a few other pedestrians, wasted a few seconds watching them wheel a small, brunette child through the emergency intake door, shouting something about a collapse or illness or something that didn't have anything to do with her. She shrugged, and continued on past the entrance hall to the... extremely... terrifyingly... long line leading up to the receptionist.

After thirty-four minutes of knitting while standing (adding on to the scarf she'd started while on the train, with a rather excellent herringbone pattern, if she said so herself), she finally reached the front of the line. Ten minutes of arguing about "client confidentiality" and "confirming her credentials" and all that useless hogwash later, she was finally given a release form and directions to the pediatric ward where she needed to pick up the paperwork.

On her way out, she gracelessly kicked aside the chair she'd broken in half as an intimidation tactic. She made sure to smile sweetly at the nurse, who was gibbering and foaming at the mouth. How uncouth.

Yamamoto owed her so much damn free food for all of this nonsense. Tsuna and Taicho as well. By God in Heaven, she'd even go so far as to say that even the hospital doctors owed her free food for doing their jobs for them! ...Reborn had a pass though. Clearly he had better things to do than to keep an eye on their shenanigans 24/7. Or at least he had the decency to do stuff while she wasn't there.

Grumbling under her breath, she followed the directions that the receptionist gave her. Getting turned around twice didn't help her mood. The fact that some of the doors were missing the number four didn't help her navigational skills.

As Haru approached the desk that supposedly held the information she'd wasted this trip to achieve, a couple of voices began to pollute her ears with gossip.

"She reminds me of that sweetheart, Mitsuki-chan," one nurse mused.

The male nurse snorted. "In what way? -Mitsuki-chan is willing to throw away her life by refusing a perfectly safe operation to sing, of all things... whereas Nagi-chan is being thrown away by her family before she even has the chance to find a dream." He paused his typing. "Also, Nagi-chan is cuter."

"Kintaro-san, that's really creepy when you say things like that," the other nurse snarked. "Especially since she's still in critical condition from the car crash and if we don't find a donor match soon-"

"We totally will!" A gusty sigh was released. "Anyway, she's like a fluffy duck! Or a princess!"

"Pedophilia isn't cute, part-timer!"

Haru cleared her throat. The female nurse coughed, and the male nurse yelped in surprise.

After staring at each other for a heartbeat, the male nurse croaked out, "That wasn't what it sounded like."

Haru raised a single eyebrow on her face.

The male began to visibly sweat. It was positively disgusting.

"I would never touch a patient- she's just really adorable- like a cousin- except not the kind you can get married to- not that I would, she's too young- I mean, I would never, she's a patient, so it's not like I could even- I mean, um, that is-"

The female nurse quietly face-palmed. Haru continued to stare, unimpressed, at the possible pedophile in front of her.

"A-haha- u-um, you... are around the same age as Nagi-chan! Oh, you must be here to visit her!"

Haru's frown grew deeper. "Actually, I'm here to-"

"It's right this way!" the male nurse said, practically hopping over the desk and dragging her to a nearby room. The female nurse mumbled something about kidnapping cute pre-teens that wasn't reassuring at all.

"This is the exact opposite of necessary you-" she snarled.

"Enjoy your visit!" the nurse chirped.

"-fucking pedophilic asshat!" she finished, right as the private room's door slammed shut.

The room was silent, but for the chirping and whirrs of machinery. Even so, her rage had hit a boiling point.

Lines. Bureaucracy. And now... pedophiles?!

"Fucker!" she growled, giving the door a solid kick. It didn't make her feel any better. She was about to rip the door off of its hinges and give that man a piece of her mind (and knitting needles!), when she heard a small squeak came from behind her.

Whirling around, she automatically glared at the bed's inhabitant. She couldn't help but notice all the machinery the kid was hitched to- she looked like the abused spawn of a human and a PC from a dystopian future.

Haru stared at the girl. The girl stared back... with her one eye. Some of Haru's rage dissipated.

"Sorry for the interruption," Haru finally said a tad gruffly. "I got turned around, and they shoved me in here."

"A-ah. S-so, you weren't here to visit me..." the girl mumbled, looking horrifically awkward.

"Nope," she stated, dry as burnt steak. "I actually have no clue as to who you are, why you're here, or the purpose of all that gadgetry making you look like this decade's version of Cyborg 009."

She'd probably feel the slightest bit regretful about her bluntness later, but honestly? -It wasn't like there weren't thousands of other kids in hospitals throughout the nation, if not the world. Why would the thoughts or opinions of this one kid, with her rebelliously tacky purple hair, actually matter?

The girl took a deep breath, closed her visible eye, and then exhaled. When she opened her eye, her face was eerily blank for such a small, cute kid. "Then please leave."

Haru, however, was distracted.

This kid had power.

Whatever well of strength she'd pulled that blank face and attitude from, it revealed a staggering amount of untapped mist flame potential.

Well then. This changed things a bit.

Haru smirked, nodded, and left the room.


As she walked back into the pediatric reception area, Haru's rage compressed back down to simple annoyance; it helped to have such an interesting discovery to muse upon. A moment later, she walked into the female pediatric nurse berating the male nurse.

"-and really, Kintaro-san, it's one thing to flirt with the other nurses, but it really crosses the line when it's with an underaged-"

Haru sauntered up to the counter and knocked her fist against it harshly. "Yo."

"Eh?!" sputtered the male nurse, still hangdog from the lecture.

"You?" sighed the female nurse, looking like she was fighting off a headache.

"...we're all refreshed and challenged by your overwhelming powers of observation," Haru deadpanned. Before the nurse could spew out any more uselessness, Haru continued, "Two things. First, give me the paperwork that Namimori General requested from your archives. Second, where is the nearest restroom?"

"Oh. So... you... aren't Nagi-chan's friend?" the nurse- Kintaro, apparently- asked.

Haru huffed in a fresh wave of annoyance. "No."

"Well, the facilities are in that room over there," the other nurse murmured distractedly, waving a hand towards a hallway opposite to the she'd used to walk in. "And I'll finish collecting the papers for when you're done."

Haru nodded at her, slightly mollified by the lady's competency. She shot an acidic glare at the pedophile before striding towards the restroom.

The idea that she was almost done here created an infinitesimally small bounce in her step.

In the interest of time, Haru walked out of the hospital to an internet cafe two blocks away. After scanning and emailing the documents to Taicho, she leaned back into the stiff chair and sighed.

At least her stint as an errand boy was finished. All that responsibility crap chafed.

Upon reading the email that Taicho sent back, confirming that yes, they received the documents and that Tsuna and some doctor named Rebo were currently bashing some heads together until the hospital began acting competently (her words, not his), she took another deep breath.

I'd say all this drama calls for a 'Haru Appreciation Day.'

Haru grinned. She'd heard of an amazing cake shop nearby, and a cup of Earl Grey was just about screaming her name.


"So, I have a proposition for you," Haru said into her cell phone in between bites of her molten lava, death-by-chocolate cake. It was adequately turning this day from "agonizing bureaucratic hell" to "tolerable, potentially interesting."

She didn't even know how it was possible for a cake to be this amazing. She was spoiled for the Namimori shop now.

"Haru-pyon~! It's been so long, and all you want to do is talk business?!" Naito groaned. "Not even a hello or anything?"

"We Skyped last night," Haru monotoned. "It wasn't my fault you passed out during the panty-shot episode of Chikyuu Sentai Fiveman."

"How was it my fault that Pantera decided to use the sleeping gas at that crucial moment!"

"It's because you exist," a soft, feminine voice replied, right before a clanging noise impacted a solid object.

"Hi Pantera," Haru said, as soon as she swallowed a sip of her tea.

"...Miura," Pantera carefully responded. A muffled thud was heard over the phone.

Presumably Pantera was taking the opportunity to abuse her now knocked-out boss. While not according to plan, it wasn't like she wasn't used to this sort of thing occurring. Guardians attempting to assassinate their Sky? -Just business as usual with the Tomaso.

"Any chance that Naito will wake up anytime soon?" she asked.

After a thoughtful silence, Pantera responded, "...hopefully, he will never wake up."

Haru was fairly certain that Pantera was becoming more and more aggressive and ruthless as time went on. It never ceased to amuse her to have it reconfirmed, though.

"Can you put Mukuro on the phone?" she requested somewhat politely. "I'd like his opinion on something."

"He is out of town, negotiating with the Difo. He is not due back until next week, unless he slaughters this group like the last seven times he volunteered as ambassador." She paused. "He might return earlier if such is the case."

"You'd think that you would stop sending him to peace conferences, what with his track record," Haru observed. She took one last bite of her cake, and sadly poked at the now empty plate with her fork. Cute plate, she randomly thought. She glanced around, smirked, and then performed a quick sleight-of-hand before paying attention to the voice on the phone.

"-and it is not like the Tomaso have much of a reputation to smear anymore. Boss does not pay too much attention to politics," Pantera said with a sigh. "You can try Rokudo-san on his cell phone and hope he is not in the middle of maniacally cackling about rivers of blood."

"Ugh, I hope so. The last time that happened, I was stuck listening to that crap for twenty minutes straight."

"... and you are not even forced to live with it."

Haru paused, and then shuddered in disgust. "Good point. And that doesn't even cover the annoyance of living with boot-licker Mangusta or that fat creep Lunger."

There was a faint groan in the background, as if someone was waking up, before a clank and a hissing noise briefly blared through the earphone.

"Lunger, at least, is frequently gone in his attempts to begin his rock-star career," Pantera finally replied, with a somewhat muffled voice.

Maybe she was wearing a gas mask? "Didn't he try to deport the bass guitarist for screwing up a note?"

Pantera made a noise of agreement, also oddly muffled.

Haru took a fortifying sip of her Earl Grey. Yep. Pantera is definitely wearing a gas mask now.

As she absently calculated Naito's odds of surviving the likely poisonous gas, she said, "Well, let him know that I called, alright? -It's kind of time-sensitive."

"...understood," Pantera replied.

After exchanging goodbyes, Haru poured the remainder of the pot of Earl Grey into her cup.

Well, if all goes according to plan, then hopefully Reborn will stop being so mistrustful, she mused to herself. A moment later she snorted. Who am I kidding? -That's about as likely to happen as a magical girl popping up.


Haru finished staring into the distance and made eye contact with Gokudera and Tsuna.

"And that's what happened."

"...idiot, you just stared into space and didn't explain anything!" Gokudera screeched as he leapt to his feet. Considering the cozy space inside Tsuna's room, he didn't have much room to stomp around.

"Did I? Did I really?" Haru mused with a gentle smile.

Tsuna's face twisted into something that was half-amused, half-confused. "That's alright, though, ne Taichou? -She got us the paperwork, after all!"

"For what little use that was," Gokudera complained. "They're still bitching and moaning about the visitation rules." He paused. "Are you sure I can't blow them up, Tsuna-sama?"

"Positive!" Tsuna squeaked, flailing a bit in distress. His unbound hand almost overturned his teacup, before he frantically steadied it.

"A boss shouldn't hesitate to use all of the means at his disposal," Reborn chided from his hammock. The Acrobaleno was already dressed in his nightclothes, which was making her long for her own bed.

Haru yawned, barely covering it in time to be polite. It had been a long, train-filled, stress-enduring day, after all.

"Ara, would you like more tea, Miura-chan?" asked Nana. The wonderful, wonderful woman just walked into Tsuna's bedroom holding a large plate of cookies. "I just baked these as a snack for Tsu-kun and his friends, but I can get you more tea as well!"

"Mm, no thanks, Sawada-san" Haru said with a slight bow. "It's just been a long day."

"Oh, no need to be so formal, you're Tsu-kun's friend! -Please just call me Mama!" the woman said with an angelic smile. "Also, I saw that you had some dirty dishes in the Daiso bag in your purse, so I hope you don't mind that I washed them."

"Eh? Why do you carry that stuff around, Haru-san?" asked Tsuna.

"Ziploc bags can be extremely useful, Boss," Haru said at the same time Gokudera shouted, "It's probably a scam for her to get other hardworking people to wash them for her!"

There was a pause, and then Reborn casually said, "It is a bit odd that you only have one set in there. Normally those are sold in pairs."

Haru grinned, "Ahaha, well, I actually didn't have time to clean them. I only took them from the cafe I was at earlier today. They were cute, but I only had the one set at my table." She bowed again at Nana. "Thanks for cleaning them for me, Sawada-san."

As Tsuna and Gokudera sputtered, Reborn snorted. "Only baby mafioso think it's cute to steal such small-time things."

"Mou, Miura-chan, it isn't nice to take other people's things," Nana chided.

Haru widened her eyes. "I was just enjoying my food, when my arm slipped and the dishes were in my bag. It'd be rude to return them dirty."

While Nana seemed to accept this logic, Tsuna's face screamed That's still stealing! You never planned to give them back anyway!

"Mm, that makes sense! Anyway, Miura-chan, didn't I tell you to please call me Mama?"

Haru's eye twitched and she forced a smile. "Oh, but I could hardly ever be so rude. Sawada-san." The only Mama I ever had sure as hell ain't you, lady!

"But I insist!" Nana said, suddenly looming with an oddly intense presence.

Haru felt a bead of sweat trickle down her face. "And I must humbly decline." Was this what they meant by killing intent?

Tsuna and Gokudera could only stare in horror at the two females as they subtly struggled for dominance. Reborn smirked and subtly whipped out a video recorder.


After being coerced into spending the night in the guest room, with a belly full of tea, dressed in a change of clothes and lying on freshly laundered sheets, Haru grumbled to herself.

"Fucking Mama-san."


At 4:37 a.m., Haru's phone rang. She glared at it and hit the 'ignore' button.

At 4:39 a.m., Haru's phone rang again- Haru repeated her earlier process, and made sure to put her ringer on silent.

At 4:43 a.m., the light from the constant text messages incoming to her phone made her give up on sleeping. Considering that the flashes would have given a person with epilepsy a seizure, she wasn't surprised to see Mukuro had sent 34... no, now 36 texts.

Hello, Miura Haru. 3

Principessa, wake up.

Pantera told me that you wished to speak with me.

Call me.

Are you getting these?

How many texts will it take for you to answer me?

Let's find out. One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

This is how many paths of Hell I can show you if you do not reply. (Six.)

Seven.

Eight.

I can do this all night. Nine.

Ten.

Eleven.

This is more amusing than I had considered.

Twelve and thirteen, by the way.

Fourteen.

Fifteen.

Sixteen. ;)

Seventeen.

Eightteen.

Nineteen.

Twenty.

I shall now send numerals, as typing the full word is getting tedious. 21.

22.

23.

24.

25.

26. Your situational awareness could use some work.

27.

28. I'm surprised you have yet to wake. Tsk, tsk.

29.

30.

Haru's sleep deprived fingers mashed uselessly on the phone's keypad and sent the most eloquent response ever: asdgjaoesrgha

After "31" popped up after her response, Mukuro typed back: 30 texts it is. We shall see if we can break this record the next time we play "How Long Does it Take Miura Haru to Wake Up."

Instead of getting into a texting war, she gave in and called him. "When I said it was time-sensitive, I had hoped you would understand that I meant to call me when convenient for me. Not you." She frowned and curled up on her side while cuddling the blankets.

"Oho? -My apologies, principessa. I had assumed you missed the sound of my voice and called as soon as I could." The degenerate had the temerity to sound sincere and fully awake. Ugh.

"Like you don't know that it's four in the fucking morning. Who the hell even pulls this kind of bullshit?"

Mukuro chided her, "Language, dear Haru. You should really censor such unladylike language."

"Then let me tell you in English to go to fucking hell."

"Ah, you do amuse me so. That's one of the reasons you will be one of the last mafioso I kill in my purging of this ugly world."

Before he could start cackling about rivers of blood, she desperately asked, "How would you like help in killing everyone?"

"...are you offering?" he asked.

"No," she swiftly denied. "I have, however, found a young, untrained Mist that seems only slightly less powerful than you are. Could be useful."

" 'Could be useful' after I rectify the 'untrained' part?" He paused. "Interesting, but no."

Haru groaned, and smushed her face into the pillow. "I'm cashing in on that favor you owe me."

"You've cashed in that favor approximately fifty-four times. I don't think it's quite valid anymore."

"Screw you, I saved your life, you owe me infinite favors," she instantly refuted.

"...even if I did train this Mist, it would be tedious to work around a school schedule and parents. Still no."

"We could kidnap her easily- voila, no parents to worry about! Also, fuck school." She paused, and then grudgingly added, "The only problem would be that she's in the hospital."

"If she is weak enough to be in the hospital, she is too weak for me to bother with." His voice turned wry. "Also, as a straight-A student, I would have thought you would have less antagonistic feelings towards education."

"Eh, it's something to do in my free time. May as well," she said dismissively. "Anyway, so you agree, I can basically drop her off when she's out of the hospital and you'll train her?" Haru added.

"I didn't say anything remotely like that," Mukuro denied.

"You totally implied it. I'm holding you to your word!"

"That isn't-" he started to say before she hung up.

As she wiggled back into the pillows, she grinned. After dealing with this Yamamoto mess, she'd kidnap Cyborg 009 from the hospital and let Mukuro deal with her.

Best plan ever.

She absently waved at Reborn's recording device before passing out.


The next morning, after eating some truly delicious food (even if a traditional Japanese breakfast was still vastly inferior to a real breakfast), she, Gokudera, and Tsuna walked to school. Reborn was smugly surveying his surroundings from atop Tsuna's head.

"Alright, this is where I turn," Haru said, already starting to wave goodbye to the group. If she ditched too many days in a row, her classmates might start to get complacent and, lord forbid, actually feel safe in her territory. Before she could begin to plot something truly heinous to announce her return, however, Tsuna gently grabbed her sleeve.

"Um, c-can't you come with us to Nami-chu today?" he asked. She girded herself against his wobbling chin and teary eyes.

"No." was her flat response as she averted her eyes.

After looking at Tsuna, Haru, and then the ground, Gokudera muttered, "It's idiotic to stretch our resources thin right now."

"Guys, I have to go to school," Haru tried.

"You can go to our school?" Tsuna tried. His eyes, if it was even possible, got wider.

"Boss, it doesn't exactly work that way," Haru said with exasperation. "You can't just trade one for the other!"

"Since it's Saturday, it's only a half-day anyway, hag. Suck it up and start walking," Gokudera grumbled. He grabbed her other arm, and between him and Tsuna, Haru found herself practically marching to Nami-chu.

As the gates came into view, Haru felt the need to try to escape one last time. "If Hibari-san sees me, this wasn't my idea."

Tsuna shrank a little on himself, let out a quiet "hiiiiie", and then shuffled closer to her. Gokudera gave her an unimpressed glare.

"Famiglia sticks together," Reborn lectured her with a disapproving stare. "Then again, I shouldn't expect a no-name, baby mafioso from a third-rate gang like you to understand that."

Shouldn't understand what- survival instincts? she internally griped. She wasn't quite confident enough to say it out loud.

They seemed to be in luck, though- as the group entered the gates, they were able to see what was presumably Hibari chasing a figure dressed in all black, off in the distance.

"That is not the Nami-chu uniform!" she heard him say.

"The uniform lacks camouflage ability to the extreme!" was the response, followed by a shower of projectiles. "Extreme shuriken throw!"

"Nami-chu forbids weapons at school- I will bite you to death, herbivore!" she saw Hibari get closer to the figure, who began to dart towards some shrubbery.

"Hiding in the bushes to the extreme!"

Haru felt herself being pushed forward. She hadn't even realized she'd stopped walking.

"What."

"It looks like Sasagawa-senpai and Hibari-san are at it again," Tsuna sighed.

She stared at Tsuna, while still being pushed forward by Gokudera. "What," she helplessly repeated.

"It's... easier not to think about it," Gokudera grudgingly advised. "Just ignore it."

She was still dazed as they walked into the building, traded their outdoor shoes for indoor shoes, and began walking to Tsuna and Gokudera's homeroom. Somewhere along the way, she lost track of Reborn. However, that ceased to matter as something else came to her attention.

"Sawada!" a voice shouted at them from behind. "And Gokudera!"

The group turned around to see a weasel-faced old man sneering at them. "Ditching classes, and then coming to school with a Midori student? What's the meaning of this?"

As Gokudera reached into his pockets for bombs, Tsuna blurted, "She's a transfer student!"

"Eh?" Haru choked out.

Gokudera's eyes widened, and he shoved the bombs back from whence they came. "Ah, right! She heard about you graduating from Tokyo-U, and wished to study beneath you!"

Haru stared at the old man, her soul leaking out of her mouth. He sneered harder.

"Well, it's not like her future is bright if she continues hanging around no-good delinquents like you," he scoffed. "Get to class before I give you all detentions," he taunted before sauntering past them.

"... so, when are we getting him fired?" Haru asked.

"As soon as possible," Gokudera promptly responded, right as Tsuna said, "Fired? -I wish!"

Reborn popped out from a nearby fire extinguisher. "This will be good practice for when you need to commit political assassinations in the future, dame-Tsuna. I approve."

As Tsuna busied himself with arguing with Reborn about assassinations- political or otherwise- she allowed herself to be shuffled onwards towards their classroom. She made a mental note to whack Tsuna good for trying to sneak her into his lame-ass school, though. Like hell was she wasting all of her efforts at Midori for... what, "friendship" and "solidarity"?

She mentally snorted.

Gokudera opened the door, and allowed Tsuna and a smug Reborn to enter first. She bumped into their backs as they stopped moving.

"What gives?" she muttered, while rubbing her nose.

The class was eerily silent. She peeked around Tsuna's fluffy head to see what was causing the odd atmosphere. It took her a moment, but then she saw it.

There was a vase with white flowers on a desk.

"Tsuna," said Reborn. "He's still alive." Despite the squeaky pitch, his tone almost seemed... reassuring.

Tsuna's body seemed to deflate, before he whispered, "Then... I don't understand. What...?"

Haru was about to say something- what, she didn't even know herself- before a boy at his desk sneered. "What's not to understand, dame-Tsuna?"

"What did you call him, scum?" Gokudera seethed. Tsuna put the hand from his good arm on Gokudera's shoulder and shook his head.

"Everyone knows, dame-Tsuna, but it doesn't surprise me that it took you and your pet so long to hear about it," the boy continued maliciously. "Yamamoto's a cripple now."

"He's paralyzed!" someone else shouted.

Another voice chimed in, "He's going to be stuck in a wheelchair forever."

"It would have been better if he really did die in the fall!"

"It's your fault we lost our ace!"

As she listened to more and more of the taunts and jeers from Tsuna's classmates, Haru tried to resist vomiting.


Your life's problems will be put in proper perspective when you realize that, compared to the plague that swept Europe in the 12th century, they're still pretty bad. -The Onion (Horoscopes)