A.N.: If there are any weird typos, I apologize! I typed this up on my smart phone, and the program I use sadly does not come equipped with spell check :/ Also, Never Forget will most likely be ending in the next chapter unless some really weird inspiration come at me. Thank you so much to everyone who has read this, and I'm sorry I forgot to upload this yesterday! ^^;

Summary: Haya-chan manages to write down the last two horrors after her release from rehab - what she can remember of them, anyways.


I didn't mean to fall asleep in the greenhouse. It's just... In there, I felt so safe, so sheltered, that I lost all sense of time, and dozed off for bit. It's now dark as I make my way back to my room.

My door is cracked open - strange, I thought I locked it... I push the door open with my foot, naturally slipping into a defensive stance, even though it's been a while since I've sparred with anybody or anything.

I see a tall, dark-haired figure fast asleep on my bed. I bite my lip from going "Awww," because Yamamoto looks really cute when he's asleep. I take down one of the extra blankets on the shelf behind my door and cover him with it, a small smile on my face. I notice my journal open, near his head, and the smile melts. He read more...

With a slight, worried frown, I take the accursed book and set it on the counter. I gently shut my door and lock it, making sure I put up the 'Do Not Disturb' notice before I shut the door. I sit in the chair next to my bed, watching him sleep. (No, it's not creepy. It's seriously adorable). Tentatively, I reach out and brush his hair back and kiss him on his forehead.

He stirs slightly and his fingers gently wrap around my wrist as I begin to sit back. I sigh and roll my eyes half-heartedly. "Yakyu baka," I murmur quietly. I know he's awake because he smiles at that and moves over, gently tugging me towards him. I blush a little, but curl up against him in my tiny hospital bed (that thing is so not made for two people, I don't care how small you think you are). He wraps his arms around me protectively, and I bury my face in his shoulder, breathing in his smell. Whatever tension the gardens didn't expel now vanishes. Everything about him screams "you'll be safe with me." And I know I will. He is my shelter during the storm, my never-moving rock. "I love you," I mumble quietly, warm and comfortable and drowsy.

Yamamoto smiles and pulls away a little so he can see my face. "I love you, too, Haya-chan," he says, and then he kisses me. It's different than before. It's slow, gentle, and just everything I need right now. I melt against him and soon drift off to sleep, not caring what my nurses will think when they see us in the morning.


I wake feeling cold, despite the blanket covering me. I sit up, and see Yamamoto by the window, reading. Tears form in the corners of my eyes, unbidden, and I turn away. But he notices I'm awake and closes the journal. "Haya-chan," he says softly. I ignore him, fighting back the urge to throw myself into his arms and just cry it all out. Yes, I finally admitted to his face that I was in love with him, but that doesn't mean I just throw away what dignity I have left. Yeah, okay, I'm a girl, so I'm allowed to show my weaknesses. But unlike most girls, I'm also an assassin, and a damn good one if I say so myself. No matter what, I'm not supposed to be attached to anything.

"I'm fine," I say, sitting up and throwing the blanket off once my emotions are under control. It takes me a moment to realize he's staring at me, and a moment later to realize my arms and legs are almost fully revealed by my shorts and t-shirt. "Shit," I mumble.

He finally tears his eyes away from the mass of scars. "How are you, Haya-chan?"

"Visiting hours are three to ten during the weekdays," I retaliate, avoiding the question.

"Nine to eleven on the weekends," he counters with a slight frown. "It's Saturday. The day you're released."

With a jolt, I realize he's right. It's the ninth day of September - my birthday, and the day I'm to be released from rehabilitation.

"Happy seventeenth, by the way," he adds with a small smile, handing me a small wrapped box.

I glare at him. "I don't -."

"Haya-chan, will you at least take the gift without complaining this once?" He begs, giving me the puppy dog eyes treatment.

"Che," I mutter, but I say nothing else and slowly unwrap the box. Inside is a simple diamond necklace, but my jaw drops regardless. I am speechless. "Yamamoto..."

He sits down next to me. "Hush," he orders softly. He takes the necklace from me and clasps it around my neck. I touch it gingerly and turn to face him. He just smiles and hugs me tightly. "Happy birthday," he says again.

There's a knock on my door and I pull away from him and stand to go open the door. Just outside is the nurse who was in charge of the other nurses taking care of me during my stay. "Congratulations on your recovery," he says. "There is a car waiting for you and your visitor out front if you are ready to leave."

I thank him and pack my few belongings into a small bag, the journal included. I still hadn't finished recounting the last two days, and I really didn't want to. But I also knew that if I never recorded the events, I wouldn't be able to rest easy.

Yamamoto takes my hand and walks with me slowly to the front of the facility that has been my home for the past six weeks. I don't lean against him for support, and I walk at a determined pace. Today is my birthday. Today is the day I am set free.


I feel like a mummy, as wrapped up as I am in bandages. The pain of the whip still lingers, and my body screams in agony at every small movement. So when I'm dunked into a bucket of ice cold water head first and held there, I struggle as much as I can, despite the pain, trying to not black out. I will not die in here. I will be set free.

I'm gasping for air when he finally releases me, but I don't have much time to recover before I'm dunked into another bucket - this one filled with scalding hot water. And it is on this fifth day of my last week I let myself be weak. I go limp, and succumb to the agony. But all I did was prolong the torture.


I wake up, encased in a dark, tight area. I'm really not good with tight spaces, especially since I'm claustrophobic. I try to control my breathing and notice my arms and legs are secured - I'm hog-tied. I let out a scream of frustration and buck against my restraints, slamming my tortured body against my confined area. I will get out. I will not panic. I will survive this.

I beg for mercy, when I realize I can't break out of the box, yet I hear nothing but my own words echoing back at me. I don't know how long I'm trapped in the box, pleading for release, but I eventually pass out due to exhaustion.

And when I wake up, I am free.


I really didn't understand, at the time, why my captor had locked me up in that box. Was his boss getting impatient with him? It was obvious enough he hadn't broken me yet...

It must be the sixth day, because he walks in looking like he didn't sleep at all. I watch, emotionless, as he lets me up from the table and hands me my dynamite. I just stare at him, confused. What the hell is going on?

"Get up," he snaps, irritated, "and fight me. You win, I let you go. You lose..." He doesn't finish his sentence. I don't need him to.

I slide off the table, the dynamite in my fingers disappearing as I skillfully tuck it out of sight for the time being. He leads me to a large, empty room, and stands at one end of it, waiting for me to make the first move. Unfortunately for him, I already have.

The sounds of explosions echo loudly in the space as the mini bombs I had rolled at him detonated. He just smiles his easy smile, and I can only watch as he seems to absorb the flames. What the fuck?!

"This is child's play," he muses, rolling a small ball shaped flame between his fingers. "To think that the Vongola Storm Guardian struck fear in the hearts of all men... Pathetic." He throws my fire back at me and I dive to the side, suppressing a groan of pain.

We fight for ages, and I know he's going easy on me. It's frustrating, realizing how weak I am without my Guardian Ring. I can only fight the way I know how - with dynamite. No special tricks, no annoyingly adorable leopard, no epic Storm Flames. Just me and a few explosives. I'm amazed I fought as long as I did.

But he still turns our battle into torture, and it doesn't take long before I'm screaming for the pain to stop.


I set down my pen with a sigh. I'm back in my apartment, looking out the lone window, finishing my journal. I only have a little bit more to write - my rescue, and the last few minutes before Yamamoto found me. I look at my scarred left arm on the table before me with a slight frown. I haven't fought since that day. I haven't wanted to, or had the strength. But now...

I find myself remembering his last words to me when the car dropped him off at his house.

"Stay safe for me, Haya-chan. Oh and one other thing..." He smiles his idiotic smile. "Call me Takeshi."


To be continued...