Chapter Fourteen: The Willpower Of An Informant

"Okay kids!" Yamazaki declares cheerfully with his hands held up. "Now that we cleared up that big, nasty misunderstanding, it's time for bed! I have arranged all your tents in a 'hamlet' formation, so that you may slaughter your enemies with more ease if it should ever become a problem."

The tents are organized in a loose ring, with all the entrances facing inward. Certainly a good formation for an ambush, Hayato has to admit.

"Now, remember, I want you to behave, and don't pick any fights just because those terrible men were mean to you! We need all hands on deck tomorrow, and you know, while I chased those guys out," his voice suddenly drops two octaves, "I can bring them right back."

The students quail. Kurokawa flinches and curls into her tent. Tsuna doesn't even blink. Hayato is having a really hard time understanding why Hibari — who's simply the Japanese version of a mafia school prefect — terrifies him beyond all reasoning, while Yamazaki — who's an adult that can drive away a hoard of raging yakuza with some loudly spoken chastisement — is just some guy. Even the baseball freak looks unsettled. Hayato saw him laugh at one kid threatening him with a sword during the cleanup's 3-hour break time. He later used that very sword during the raid. Well, he was using the sword while it was sheathed, because he's a blithering idiot that nearly got himself killed trying to wiggle it out with one arm the entire time, but still.

Speaking of Yamazaki and raids.

Hayato wasn't present for half of Kurokawa's weapon pickup, but she is one person he knows for a fact brought a weapon, so when everyone is settled and ready to gossip their nerves away, he grabs her by the wrist and drags her away from the tents, to the street.

"What the hell!" She hisses.

"Truce," Hayato barks.

"What?"

Hayato checks that they're far enough from everyone who could overhear them and spins on his heel to jab a finger into her face. "Truce. I'll hold you to that you aren't messing with the Boss if you tell me what happened at the end of that raid."

Kurokawa shifts from side to side and folds her arms in the most obvious depiction of someone with something to hide that Hayato has ever seen. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yeah, I'm sure a good samaritan just came by with a non-lethal sniper rifle for the heck of it, and you just happened to be the only kid that ran for the buildings." He didn't actually see that second part, but Kurokawa is prideful, and as a prideful person himself, Hayato knows that she'll latch onto any excuse she can manage.

Kurokawa tilts her head slightly. It's still dark, and he can't see a lot of her this far from the main source of light (the giant bonfire Yamazaki had decided to put in the middle of the tent hamlet, in lieu of a nightlight), but he can still see her blush.

"Well?"

"So, what, now you know I'm totally amazing and know how to use a sniper rifle even though I'm thirteen?" She throws her hair back imperiously, even though she hasn't bothered to actually hide her nervousness yet. Fucking amateur.

"No, dumbass, the mafia had a fourteen-year-old run one of the most powerful factions in the Underworld, you think I give a shit you know how to use a gun," Hayato sighs. Kurokawa mouths 'mafia' incredulously. Can she keep up at all? Seriously. "You were up on the roof, sniping shit, so that means you saw everything, right?"

"Well, yeah, and it's not like I just ditched Tsuna or anything—"

"Hey. Truce. He was safer in the heap, you made yourself actually useful, which was more than I was expecting from you," Hayato dismisses. "What I want to know is; did you see Yamazaki?"

Kurokawa blinks. "Huh? Oh, yeah."

"Right. Now, did you see what was on Yamazaki's back."

She frowns. "On his back…?"

"Didn't you notice? Guy marches out, and then he turns his back on the enemy when he yells at them. And then the yakuza just flip out, and go running. I mean, he barely yelled at them. I yell at people all the time and I don't get those results."

"…They ran because they saw the symbol on his back," Kurokawa realizes out loud.

"So you saw it?"

"Yeah, it was like…" She pats herself for something to depict the symbol with. Hayato provides a pen and pad of paper. She draws a circle, and her brow furrows as she clearly fails to recall what the symbol looked like.

"Just scribble it in," Hayato suggests.

She nods, and scribbles in a spiky blank space on the left side of the circle, and two stilted lines making up the right. Hayato can't make heads or tails of it. Kurokawa grunts and pulls out her flip phone.

"You keep a phone in your pajamas?"

"You keep dynamite in your pajamas," Kurokawa spits back. "I'm only doing this because you're at least semi-competent, not counting the screaming."

Hayato grits his teeth and forces himself not to scream at her. "Doing what."

"Obliging in your insane conspiracy theories. Plus, this one actually makes sense. Okayyy soooooo…" She presses a few buttons, humming tunelessly as she does so. Hayato taps his foot impatiently. Are all civilian girls this annoying? Are all civilians this annoying? He feels like he should threaten her into smartening up, but she's too confident in Sasagawa and Tsuna saving her, so she'd probably just yell at him.

Finally, she finishes her rapidfire button-pressing. "Mmmm…According to the Miyazawa BBS, the only yakuza around these parts are the Urayama group."

"According to the what?"

"BBS. You know, bulletin board chatting? People post stuff and other people reply? Aaaand…" She taps the 'down' button repeatedly. "A bunch of people were totally awake, kind of freaking out, especially with the explosions."

Hayato clears his throat and draws himself up, refusing to be cowed.

"Soooo the Urayama is a realty office, for like, summer homes or something? And…" More tapping. "They've been pretty distant with Miyazawa. Most citizens just ignore them. But like, they're being weird now, I guess. Chasing people off. Putting a bunch of garbage on the beach. Defacing hotels. Getting drunk and hassling tourists."

"What does that have to do with the symbol?" Hayato barks impatiently.

"Hey! I'm giving you backstory on the guys that attacked your whole flock! Pay attention!" Kurokawa snaps back. She flips her hair again and continues. "I'm getting replies at like, two in the morning, so at least your explosions are good for something. Urayama is a part of the Akiyama-kai."

"Akiyama…that sounds familiar…" Hayato murmurs.

"Well it should, seeing as it's one of the most powerful yakuza families in Japan." She rolls her eyes, and Hayato's hackles rise. "They're like…super big in Namimori. Or they were when my dad was a kid? Anyway, the Akiyama group is run by the Kouyou clan—"

"Akiyama isn't a surname?"

"No, it's referring to Namimori Mountain during autumn. It's a territory thing, a lot of families that came into power around the last century did that." She continues idly pressing buttons. "So there's also this branch family, Tsukioka, which isn't so much a wing of business as it is just…kinda there? Apparently they're just a family line of nepotism. Don't really bother with consistent surnames, Tsukioka is just a title. Have some common ancestors with the Kouyou, I guess? So they're just very distant relatives that get good positions sometimes, because, again, nepotism."

Hayato narrows his eyes suspiciously. "Where are you getting this?"

"The internet. So, anyway, the Akiyama symbol looks like this." She holds up her phone to show him a red circular crest featuring a Japanese maple leaf on the left side and a mountain — with two layers, hence the unsteady lines in her scribble — with a sun rising above it. He nods.

"They ditched because he's part of the main family. He's basically their boss."

"Yeah. So, they shouldn't be bothering us. SO, stop being so weird and angry all the time."

"He's a criminal!" Wait, no, Hayato is a criminal, shit. "He's a criminal and I didn't know about it."

Kurokawa gives him a flat look. "…Can I go to bed now?"

"Ugh! You just don't get it!" Nobody gets it. "This guy's got…connections. I mean, I actually did know he was a criminal, he knows…stuff. About things. But I didn't know he was yakuza! This changes everything."

"It changes nothing! Everyone in Namimori is a goddamn yakuza! Yukari from class 3-A's brother is a yakuza! Our math teacher is a yakuza! Yamamoto's dad is probably a yakuza, everyone's a yakuza!"

"Wait, what was that last one—"

"Why are you digging so many conspiracy theories out of our lives! It's messed up! In Namimori, we're just…normal, alright? We're normal. Some of us do illegal things, but we have boundaries, we don't get into violent gang wars, we don't even threaten each other, because we're normal people. That's why Hibari is such a huge freak! You can't jump in and start threatening everybody! Especially as an outsider!" Hana flails angrily at Hayato. "We're not some investigation playground for you to roll around in, you shitty orangutan, we're trying to go about our normal lives! You can't just blame all your culture shock on nefarious plots!"

"I-I just—"

"You pissed Tsuna off!"

Hayato shrinks.

"Yeah! That's right! You pissed him off! You know how many times I've seen him pissed off? Zero. Never. Because no one who has even the slightest modicum of self-awareness would be stupid enough to mess with Kyouko! And here you are! Messing with Kyouko! If he were the type to hold a grudge, or have feelings at all, you'd be dead! Because you're stupid, and you don't care about other people's feelings! You jackass!"

Hayato feels bristle going against guilt, jumbling up his thoughts. "I was just…something unnatural was definitely…"

"You said it to his face! To! His! Face! You dumbass!" Hana smacks him over the arm. Hayato flinches before he can stop himself. "You called his closest friend a manipulative alien straight to his face! You know who does that? Someone who probably doesn't even give a shit about Tsuna in the first place!"

"—How dare you—"

"Shut up! Don't talk over me!"

"—You're not—"

"I said shut it!" Hana kicks him in the shins and shoves her hands onto his mouth. Hayato lets out a frustrated scream at being thwarted by a thirteen-year-old civilian girl. "Messing around with conspiracy theories, pissing Tsuna off and then running around bossing everyone about like nothing's wrong, you know what that looks like?"

"MMGGHFF."

"Like all you care about is yourself, and your theories, and your own business. I don't care if you're like, a felon or whatever, but if you can't even keep track of basic social boundaries, I'm going to go tell Onii-san to kick your ass and make you leave the country!"

Hayato finally manages to get her off him, and he shoves her away. "YOU shut up! You wouldn't understand the infinite bond between the Boss and I! Everything I do is for his sake!"

"Like insulting Kyouko? Picking a fight with all of his hot successful friends? If you're so threatened by high-spec people, why don't you look to your own high-spec status you dumb piece of shit!" Hana starts kicking him again.

"What the fuck is high-spec?"

"Gee, I dunno, like gorgeous, educated, charismatic, strong, assertive…And somehow, you're wasting all of it on leading an entire gang, because you're weird and awful. God, what is wrong with you. And you keep wearing that stupid hairstyle, what is wrong with you. And then you're just a total spazz, and you're always acting like a child, no wonder the best you can get is a bunch of delin—"

Hayato flushes. "I'M NOT TRYING TO BE A HOT SOCIALITE, I'M TRYING TO BE COMPETENT!"

"AND THAT'S WHY YOU'RE JUST A BUZZING LITTLE ANNOYANCE WHILE EVERYONE ELSE IS GETTING CLOSE TO HIM JUST FINE! STUUUUPID!"

"GO TO HELL!"

"EAT TURD, BANANA-BREATH!"

"Uh…what are you guys doing?"

Both of them whirl around to see Yamamoto Takeshi standing there with a confused smile splayed over his face. He's staring at them. To be specific, staring at Hayato holding Hana in a headlock, with her punching him repeatedly in the arm and trying to bite his fingers off.

"The hell are you doing here! This is a private conversation!" Hayato yells.

"Oh, uh. Tsuna told me to go tell you to cut it out. He said he's send Sasagawa, but he didn't want to 'reinforce dependence' or something?"

Hana squirms out of Hayato's grip and carefully preens herself, running her fingers through her hair and smoothing out her pajamas.

"We were just having a civil discussion. Until he ruined it, of course."

"Ruined— you're the one insulting me left and right!"

"Just pointing out the obvious."

"Go to hell!" If he wasn't concerned about putting the students on red alert, his explosives would be out by now.

"Hey, hey, can't you just settle down and make a truce for now? I mean, everyone's a little stressed out," Yamamoto says lightly, making placating gestures. It disgusts Hayato on principle.

"I won't sit down and take an insult when I hear one!"

"I'm telling you you're being shitty to Tsuna! God, do you ever listen?"

"I don't have to hear this!" Hayato lets out a gurgle of rage and whirls around to march down the street. "I'm going to go on patrol!"

"Fine! Go then! Ignore your problems! ORANGUTAN!" Hana screams after him.

Hayato bows his head and hunches his shoulders, glaring furiously at the street ahead of him. He wants to light up a cigarette, but Tsuna is probably still watching for that. He wants to punch Hana, but he'll get shit from both Sasagawa and Tsu…

Hayato blinks. That's right. Tsuna would be upset if he attacked anyone who didn't have it coming. He's always calling to have the situation resolved, and he's only ever asked Hayato for his help once. Tsuna isn't like…like them, back in Italy, like those people who grew up with violence. He's only a civilian, and he doesn't understand how many situations could easily be resolved by a good tussle.

But he probably knows better ways to resolve situations too.

Tsuna isn't at all vibrant, and the anger burning in his eyes back then took Hayato off guard. Tsuna had cooled off just as quickly and still looked to Hayato to do his duties, so Hayato hadn't thought much of it, but maybe he should have. Maybe he had really, genuinely screwed up.

…But that's his own conclusion. Hana's petty insults have absolutely nothing to do with it. He figured that out by himself.

Finally deciding having a cigarette isn't worth the cold look of disappointment on Tsuna's face, he strolls down the street, peering around corners, flicking a lighter all the while.

"Son of a BITCH!"

Taniguchi bursts into the building, spitting mad and nursing an ache in his side and a bleeding wound over the head. He can't believe he got this fucked up by middle-schoolers. Over half their population, wiped out, and then the rest washed out by a declaration of intent from the main fucking family.

Most of the ones who can still walk right are carrying the injured. The sniper was using rubber bullets with pinpoint precision, hitting legs in every single instance. Barely any of them can even stand upright. One of them had their kneecap broken. Who the shit brings a sniper on a volunteer trip? Sure as shit not a school only here for volunteer work. Koyama is owned by the main family, the final shell of a collapsed branch group. They're definitely up to something.

Which means they gotta bail.

Taniguchi gives the head office door a quick rap before bursting in. "Boss! Listen, we're fucked, we gotta cut off Zeni."

Morita straightens in his seat. Of course he's here. He always works late. "What?"

"It's the main family! That school? Koyama, and there's a main family member on watch for them. He just declared intent. They're gonna close down the branch if we keep this up. Doesn't matter how high we are, we're going to bite it. We gotta stop this."

"Shit…!" Morita grips a fistful of hair, staring at his computer monitor. They spend a few moments in silence, as Morita deliberates. That's a lot of money Zeni was offering, just for a little delinquency. It was the easiest job they've gotten in years.

Just then, another underling pushes past Taniguchi, waving a cell phone.

"Boss! I've been checking the net. Someone's digging into the family history. All of it."

"Fuck's sake…" Morita heaves a great sigh and pulls himself out of his seat, exhaustion written in his form.

"Boss…?"

"…I'm turning in for the night. We'll cancel the engagement with Zeni tomorrow."

What a waste.

Taniguchi nods to the underling, and they get on treating the wounded.

Takeshi has encountered a…problem.

He wasn't aware of the heat before, when he was groggy and half asleep and Tsuna was curled up in a ball just above his head staring at the tent entrance with the world raging on around them, but now that the only sound outside of their tent is easygoing chatter, the crash of waves, and birdsong, and there's no rush to get up, Takeshi has ample time to assess the problem.

The problem of Tsuna clinging onto his back like a limpet.

They had started out on the opposite sides of the tent, and that combined with Hana's warning of 'no touching' had let him to believe that Tsuna just hated physical contact of any kind. But she hadn't said that, had she? She said 'Kyouko and his mom'. And he was fine with grabbing Hayato, and Takeshi. A more accurate painting of his touching habits would probably be 'don't get in my personal bubble unless I know you or enter yours first'.

Sleeping patterns wouldn't really factor into that.

Takeshi has gone on a few trips with classmates and baseball teammates, so it's not like he's not familiar with clingers. It's just…clingers generally cling onto pillows. Not people. And Tsuna feels like the kind of person who would prefer to hug pillows.

Actually, speaking literally, Tsuna feels very bony and small. His knee is digging uncomfortably into Takeshi's inner thigh, and the grip on his shirt is getting dangerously close to choking him.

Thinking about it, there's more than one type of clinger. Takeshi doesn't know a lot about Tsuna, but he's slowly picking up little things about him as he goes, and he thinks that Tsuna absolutely wouldn't indulge in toys or comfort objects, as skittish as he is. He'd go for a pillow if that were the case. With Hana's statement, 'Kyouko or mom', Takeshi would have to guess that Tsuna spent years sleeping in his mom's bed and never broke the habit, and that's why this is happening right now.

Takeshi wonders if Tsuna has a body pillow. Should he get him a body pillow? Would he like that, or would he be upset?

He still has no idea what upsets Tsuna. It always seems like the most random things, and it's not like Takeshi can just do whatever and see what sticks, because he's…delicate. Not fragile, but like…squishy? Like, yeah, a limpet. All squishy and soft and tender on the inside, but with a hard shell of bitterness and surliness on the outside. It's not something you can really break through without ruining him. It's just…how he is. Takeshi likes that. It's like everyone around him is just a hermit crab, easily throwing around faces until they have one that fits just right, only to grow out of it and move on anyway, but Tsuna just formed an exoskeleton and cloistered himself inside like it was a fortress. The only ones allowed to know about the squishy bits are the ones he clings to.

Takeshi didn't make that metaphor up on his own. His dad said his mom was like that, except he called her a barnacle, which Takeshi thought was really rude when he was seven and still cutting his feet on barnacles when they went out to the beach, but sounds really tragically romantic in retrospect.

Man, he must have been lying like this for half an hour by now. Being perfectly still is hard.

He's just about to wake Tsuna up, when suddenly Tsuna clutches him tighter, adjusts his position so one of his legs is sprawled over him too (rescuing the oncoming bruise on Takeshi's thigh), and nuzzles deeply into the space between Takeshi's shoulderblades.

Takeshi experiences a fullbody shiver that lasts a whole minute.

…Well, at least this way, he can take a third option?

Takeshi shakes off the rest of his nerves, twists his body, and slowly turns himself upright. With slow, careful movements, he repositions Tsuna's hands around his neck, undoes the tent with his toes, and climbs out into the open air with a worryingly lightweight Tsuna clutching onto his back.

Tsuna nuzzles again, and Takeshi gags as the grip around his neck turns into a steel brace. Well, at least he's still got his strength?

Half the students seem to be up, circling the campfire in their little hamlet of tents and eating breakfast. Hayato looks like he's still hiding in his tent. Takeshi scans for the other members of their group; Ryouhei is teaching Miki stretching exercises, Hana is outside of the ring of tents crouched next to a barrel stove with, inexplicably, a large water cooler container, and Irie — Shouichi? Is it okay for Takeshi to switch to first name basis now? He's going to go ahead and say yes, so — Shouichi is watching Hana with a nervous distrust.

Takeshi goes over to the most interesting person available and checks on Hana, careful to move gradually so as to not jostle Tsuna's rib.

"Whatcha doing?"

"Cultivating the ultimate prank," Hana sings, her face in a pulled cat-smile. Shouichi just makes a face.

"Huh. Who for?"

"Tsuna!" She glances up, and her mouth quirks at the sight of Takeshi and the piggy-backing Tsuna. "I see you've uncovered his dark secret."

"His what now?"

"The ancient art of Tsuna Rearing, passed down from Nana-san to Kyouko, and Kyouko to me," Hana says with false poise. She gets up and musses Tsuna's hair. Tsuna's brow furrows, but he doesn't otherwise react. "If he's even a little bit drowsy, he'll cling to anything with a higher temperature. And he's got the physique of a starving street orphan, so that's basically everyone with a pulse that isn't suffering from hypothermia."

"Wow. Yeah, I figured." Takeshi has to balance on one leg and push Tsuna up by the bottom with his foot to get him back into position without jolting him. It's hard to keep Tsuna in place with only one arm. "So, what's the prank?"

"Nothing bad. I'm just going to get his nasty hair back to a respectable state. The prank comes from this part." She proudly holds up a container of blue-black hair dye.

"…Didn't his mom already suggest that?"

"That's why it's nothing bad! I'm just heating the water up now to get ready to lather him up. Gotta break down all those oils first!"

"And he's not going to wake up from that? Water usually gets me up in a flash."

"Ufufu…you're still an amateur." Hana tilts her head away dramatically with her arms folded. "You have so much to learn."

Takeshi, despite himself, suddenly feels desperately curious. He laughs a little. "Oh?"

"The second lesson in the ancient art of Tsuna Rearing!" She splays her hand theatrically at him, other hand on her hip. "As passed on from Nana-san, to Kyouko, to myself: Tsuna, in stressful situations, will sleep like the dead!"

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, apparently acting like a person takes a lot out of him. Whenever he freaks, he goes for proper shelter so he can nap. Usually like, karaoke boxes or cafes? He'll probably be unconscious until mid-afternoon, if we let him. As long as the washing is gentle, he'll be practically comatose."

"Haha! Sounds fun! What are you going to do about Hayato, then?"

"…Did he say you could use his first name?"

"Nah, but we're friends now, so it's okay."

Hana squints suspiciously at him, making her the first person in middle school to catch Takeshi's sass so far, and Takeshi internally decides to drop the honorific for her too, out of respect. She doesn't comment on it, though.

"Distracting Gokudera is what Irie-kun is for! He'll run interference!"

Shouichi looks ill. "D-Do I have to?"

"Sure do! Onii-san will be carrying Tsuna up, Oogawa-kun and I will be carrying supplies, and Ta-ke-shi-kun will be carrying this big tub of heated water."

Haha! She's sassing him back! Hana is cool.

"Can't some of your friends do it?"

"You can ask them to help, if you want to. But Uenohara-chan doesn't talk, and Watanabe-chan keeps to herself."

Shouichi clutches his stomach and makes a pained noise.

"Aaaand done," Hana says, emptying a boiling kettle into the big container. "Let's move."

Hana flags down Ryouhei, and Takeshi passes Tsuna over. The sudden coolness against his back is strange, and it's only at that moment he realizes Tsuna has drooled all over his shoulder. At Hana's advice, Ryouhei has Tsuna wrapped tightly around his front, with his hands woven under his bottom, so he doesn't have to worry about constantly adjusting him and there's more warmth to keep Tsuna obliviously clingy. Smart!

Hana leads the way with a bag full of the hair-washing equipment, with a confused Oogawa clutching a bowl and funnel right behind her. Takeshi has to struggle to keep the giant water jug upright with only one arm. Balancing on his shoulder only helps him so far, and his arm is sore pretty much immediately.

"Hurry! To the trail!" Hana cheerfully declares, pointing towards the woods, snickering like a kitsune spirit.

Takeshi remembers he used to be anxious about joining in with other people. Right now, he can't really imagine why.

Miura Fuyumi's studio apartment has always looked like Jim Henson's storage closet after a hurricane.

Fabrics draped over furniture in heaps, multiple sewing kits spread over the coffee table, puppets hanging from the walls that are already pasted with blueprints and boxed in by a small army of small animatronics, mostly of dinosaurs and insects. They're covered with discarded clothing, half-finished projects, and dishes that haven't quite made it to the sink yet. Cups of instant ramen and boxes of Chinese take-out coats the table, along with more stained blueprints with matching projects that haven't quite met the 'forgotten' stage just yet.

But there's other little quirks, like the magazines peeking out from her cupboards, or the glass cabinet filled to the brim with handguns, or the fact that there's a box of shotgun shells on top of her fridge, or the open dresser drawer in her bedroom that is filled with pistols.

She's never one to hold back in her hobbies.

Fuyumi herself is as sloppy and wild as her living space. Rather than wasting time styling her hair like she had yesterday, she pulls her dark, unbrushed locks in a quick, poorly-formed bun with a plain cloth scrunchie and shoves whatever clips she can find lying around on the floor or tables onto her fringe as she roughly shoves weaponry into her worn backpack. She opts against the sniper rifle. She'll already have one where she's going.

Her coke-bottle glasses slide down her nose slightly when she dips under her bed to reach a shoebox sitting behind a cluster of stuffed animals, a mere squadron amongst the veritable army that chokes up all the space in her bedroom. She flicks it open and admires the cool metal of the taser, with green rubber grips.

It was a gift from a friend after she got shot in the ass with her own gun. She's treasured it since.

Shoving it in the seat of her jeans, she yanks on her jacket, pulls the backpack on, and slips on her favourite white sneakers. She calculates how fast it'll take for the Akiyama-kai to realize she's up to something. Probably another two hours. Best to be quick.

Fuyumi rips the door and stands face-to-face with Kouyou Naoki.

His bright red hair is slightly windswept, like he ran here, but he's stock still and pale-faced. Probably holding his breath.

"Nao-chan!" Fuyumi beams.

"Going somewhere?" He says like his windpipe is being played like a flute. Man wouldn't even strain his voice under torture. Super creepy.

"Out," she replies vaguely.

"How far out would that be?"

"Oh, I dunno, just a little, like—"

"Like out of town?" Naoki raises his eyebrows, and pulls out a red folder with a small stamp of the Kouyou family seal in the top corner. Yikes. "You wouldn't happen to know where page fourteen and nineteen of this file would be, would you?"

"I'm sure you have a lot of folders, Nao-chan! Can't say if I do or don't!"

Fuyumi makes to push past him. He slams his hand against the doorframe to stop her.

"The file on Akiyama's general business organization. Page fourteen is on our operations in Miyazawa. Page nineteen is on the details of our underground trade line."

"Why do you even know that?" Fuyumi whines.

Naoki gives her a sharp look.

"I'm only trying to help?"

"You are explicitly forbidden from leaving Namimori, under pain of death," Naoki grinds out, "because we would rather have you dead than unleashed on the world. No outside movement. Even under observation. If it isn't our territory, you can't leave it."

"Miyazawa is your territory?"

"The roads between it and Namimori are not. Father would be quite upset to hear you were allowed to set foot on a highway."

Fuyumi worries her lip. This isn't working very nicely. It's not like she can't trust the Kouyou family to manage their business, but on the other hand, her only contacts right now are two thirteen-year-olds, only one of which has tangible training. And not even with real guns. "Can I talk to you?"

"I feel ill at the thought."

"Don't sulk, I'm cooperating!" Fuyumi pokes him in the belly. His eyebrow twitches. "Even after I caught you that nice young boy…"

"Do you expect me to congratulate you for torturing a teenager and throwing him at us?"

"Haven't you ever heard of gaslighting? Amateur. You're never going to rule the family that way."

Naoki's eyebrow twitches again.

"Just tell me what you want in Miyazawa, and I'll send resources to take care of it. I won't have you running free meddling in our business."

Fuyumi folds her arms. "Hmm…well, I guess you can call it a hunch. It has to do with the mass weapons confiscation."

"You know where the high school got them?"

"No, you'll probably get that Fukuzawa-kun to give that information up himself. Your dad likes taking in new meat, right?"

Brow twitch.

"Right. Sooooo~ what I was actually worried about was something I saw on the news. The whole gun thing pretty much solved itself. You probably picked up by now that the guns originated from inside the family, right? All the guns you sold are accounted for, which means they're from the family stash. Ahh, suuuch a good quality, nyoroho!"

Brow twitch, and a slight downtick of the mouth.

"But…I was soooo worried about my favourite bosses having internal trouble, I decided to look into it! And wouldn't you know it, it seems there's a whole bunch of holes in the lower levels of the family!"

"Enough with the games, Miura. Speak properly."

Fuyumi's mouth tugs. She hates dealing with Naoki. He knows her game face, so all casual, fun speech does is piss him off. With a put-upon sigh, she pulls her backpack off and takes out a few documents to show him. "Morita's dealing outsider business."

"We know that. It's allowed."

"Mafia business. No clearance with the Difo." She shows him the logs of mafia business in the past two months, as acquired by her informant. Miyazawa doesn't show up on a single one of them. "They're either skirting by on a technicality or dancing with a war between yakuza and mafia."

The Difo Famiglia is the only mafia family allowed to operate in Asia, and any and all mafia business has to go through them first. If someone is skipping that step, the whole situation is going to be all kinds of messed up.

Naoki shakes his head. "They know better. Technicality."

"Well that's nice! Anyway, they're probably just chasing away tourists. 'Cept…" She pulls out another file. "Akiyama only owns half of Miyazawa. The other half…"

"Oh fuck me," Naoki cusses in English, somehow managing to maintain perfect poise while doing so.

"Mmm. So that's that. As for the guns, then, I did a little digging for business on the side, just in case. It turned out to be completely unrelated, but…" She shows him a map scribbled over with red crayon. "Seems supplying high-school kids wasn't the original goal of the guns getting moved. It was a technique to get them back into Namimori."

"What? Who the hell would be stupid enough to resolve an internal theft by giving them all to teenagers?"

She raises her eyebrows.

Naoki snarls at the ceiling and pulls out his phone. He calls in the press of two buttons. Very practiced movement. He must do it a lot.

"Kunihiro! Where the fuck are you? …..What do you mean you're in Miyazawa? You wretched— shut up. Listen, while you're there, talk to Morita, tell him to take out whoever he's been dealing with, he's made a life-ending mistake and father's going to collapse Urayama and his skull if he keeps on. Oh. God. Yes. Of course you did…..Yes, of course you did."

Fuyumi hasn't spoken to the black sheep of the Kouyou family often, but based on all the phone calls she's heard meant for him, she's getting the feeling 'of course you did' are the words he likes to live by. The zany kind of predictable.

"Listen to— focus, for fuck's sake." Haha, hoo boy, Fuyumi's never seen him lose his cool like this. "The guns. I know you're the one who cycled them, you irresponsible little monster. Where did you get them? If we have a leak— NO! don't take care of it! How many times have we told you to stop taking care of things! You are ruining this family!"

Fuyumi stifles a giggle.

"What, don't— don't hang up on me! Kunihiro! Listen to me, I'm not fini— I can hear you crinkling candy wrappers! Kunihiro! KUNIHIRO!"

Naoki furiously ends the call and looks like he wants to chuck the phone at the wall.

"You didn't tell him about the split ownership."

Naoki takes a steeling breath, and lets it out with a basic framework of calm. "I told him enough. God knows what he'd do if he knew who owned the rest of the land. I'll send someone in. Thank you for the information."

Fuyumi frowns. "I could still—"

"No. This is Akiyama business, through and through."

"I'm the one who knows the mafia, if you'd just—"

"This conversation is over. If we see you leaving, we will have you shot. Goodbye."

Naoki turns on his heel and walks off in his usual dramatic flair. Fuyumi clicks her tongue with irritation. Yamazaki is a bit of a wild card, but she knows he's good at managing groups and circulating information. He's also embroiled in a love-hate situation with the rest of his family. There's no telling if Yamazaki has gotten everyone involved in the theft, or if he's sitting on a steadily unfolding conspiracy. There's also no telling how much he already knows.

Normally she'd leave it and let them eat themselves, but it's not just some internal squabble and bad business.

This is the Vongola.

This is the mafia. Not the Difo, the Italian mafia. There's no way those dumbasses in the Akiyama could tell the difference.

Miura doesn't have any contacts in this part of Japan, and while Hana knows enough, most of the finer details are all about the yakuza. Mafia would make her panic, and she wouldn't be able to instinctively follow the beats like she could if she were just dealing with Morita and his ilk.

She shuts the door and leans against it. Who could she possibly use to investigate? No one who knows the mafia professionally, no one completely dissociated from the Akiyama — and honestly, everyone in this town is associated with the Akiyama one way or another — but no one who has an actual friend in the Akiyama that could convince them to turn right around and leave…

That leaves someone local who has that same sort of instinctive ability to follow the rhythm of Underworld culture that Hana does. Shouichi knows the trade, but not the society, so not him. She doesn't know a thing about Yamamoto's son. Sawada's son is nice, but Sawada Iemitsu himself is embroiled in the Vongola doing…something, she's not sure what his actual job is, so that's waaaaay too close.

She taps her fingers together rapidly. Yamamoto himself wouldn't dare make a move. She doesn't know any of the other people lingering around Namimori. She's not touching Yamazaki. She doesn't have any contacts in the Akiyama itself. Hibari could technically be flung in any direction with the slightest word, but only within Namimori itself.

God, she really should have paid more attention to Underworld politics and less attention on cool guns.

Fuyumi rubs her face and groans. Think, think, think, it doesn't have to be much, just someone who can fly under the radar, leave the town, and follow pace…

She stops.

And she lights up.

Fuyumi nearly knocks over four pieces of furniture and an animatronic bear with a banjo in her effort to race to the phone, and she dials the number she knows off by heart.

The phone only rings once.

"Hello?"

Bingo.

"Heeeey, Haru-chan, it's big sis! It's been soooo long! Y'know, I'm taking a break right now, so could you come over for a bit? I want to gossip with my cute little sister~"