Target 26: Deal With It

Tsuna walked the halls of the villa, and it wasn't old and decrepit but as vibrant and alive as it was in its prime. His footsteps echoed. Somewhere far away a piano played.

He stopped in front of a mirror; he was older, stronger, his eyes metallic and a black cape over his shoulders, it was surely Tsuna. In his gaze there was an icy-cold cruelty that he knew from the faces of his worst enemies. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew something was wrong, but he was silent.

There, and he moved to catch the figure slinking up behind him, pulled him around and threw him into the mirror, and the glass shattered. Only as the knife came at him did he see red hair and red eyes, and everything was burning flames.

He moved like a ghost through the hall as the villa decayed around him, but the piano played on. He followed the sound through endless passages, pushed the door open, and

The alarm clock was going off.

Tsuna slowly peeled himself out of bed. He was alone in his room. He stretched and shed his pajama shirt. Pants for school weren't a problem, he had plenty of slacks, but with all the excitement over the past few days his uniform shirts had not been washed. He grabbed a shirt off the top of the hamper, sniffed it, and deemed it acceptable.

As he packed up his school supplies he could hear the kids downstairs, mostly Lambo carrying on. It was weird, knowing that by the end of this weekend Lambo would officially be his brother. He wondered whether Lambo would start calling himself Sawada instead of Bovino, and that led to wondering what would happen with his citizenship. Japanese law did not allow dual citizenship, so if being adopted qualified him for Japanese citizenship, Lambo would have to choose to drop either his Japanese or Italian citizenship when he came of age.

That brought Tsuna's thoughts around to his own citizenship, which was a little weird, the idea of becoming an Italian citizen and being a foreigner in his own homeland. He wasn't even sure how one became a citizen of a European country. He went to the computer for a moment to look it up, and among many complicated Latin words he found two relevant ones: "Jus Sanguinis," meaning that if you could prove you had an Italian ancestor within three generations on your mother's side or any number of generations on your father's side, you could claim Italian citizenship by right of blood.

Tsuna rubbed his eyes, and as he went downstairs he tried to put it out of his mind. It wouldn't be an issue for a few more years, whereas his science test was coming up in a few hours.

He made a bowl of cereal, and as he ate he glanced over a page of notes. There was no sign of Iemitsu in the house, and in fact he had not seen much of his father since being confronted for his secrets. When he saw his mother he asked her if she had seen him.

"No, and I would really like to speak to him about all of this," she said, huffing in frustration. "I have no idea what he's been doing. Besides avoiding me, of course."

Tsuna stirred his cereal around listlessly.

"Are you ready for your test?"

"I think so."

Nana frowned. She knew that Tsuna wanted to do well, and she wanted him to do well, too, but learning about this business that had been happening right under her nose had also forced her to acknowledge that she had not been the best mother. "Well, whatever happens, I'm proud of you for trying so hard. Even if you don't do as well as you like, we'll figure something out."

"Okay, mom."

"I'm going to make you a special lunch box, so you have something to look forward to after your test."

Tsuna stopped stirring and perked up curiously. "What's so special about it?"

With a shining smile and a sing-song voice, she said, "It's made with lots of love!" and ducked into the kitchen to finish up everyone's lunches.

Tsuna felt himself smiling, too. It had always been of little comfort before, but it really was true that no matter what happened, his mom would still be there.

And hey, no matter how it went, at least he would never have to deal with Nezu again.

Milan, Italy

"If I ever have to deal with either of those bastards again it'll be too soon," Maria murmured as she walked the halls of her family's HQ in Milan. She spoke of Dante di Adamo, who was a fool who had attacked her and reduced her to a sobbing mess, and Iemitsu Sawada, who butted into business that did not involve him.

To Maria's right, Luca, overprotective as he had been constantly lately; to her left, Gabriela Maties, an Andorran woman who had been the heir to a cartel that the Vongola had annihilated. Like Maria's attitude toward the father who was cruel to her and was killed by the Vongola, Maties had no lost love for the organization that had bled the land dry, but it still left a healthy fear of crossing the Vongola.

Maria looked tired. She hadn't slept enough this week. Dante's power had left lingering traces in nightmares and, during the first few days, hallucinations.

"Boss," Gabriela said, and she shared a pained look with Luca. "Perhaps you shouldn't push yourself so soon. It hasn't been very long since..."

"Not now," Maria said shortly. "Hold that thought for just a minute."

It was frustrating but fair, when they were still walking through the Milan HQ, where nine in ten employees were civilians. Only the Family's inner circle knew the real nature of what happened to their boss; anybody else, including the press, was told that the Noble Company's CEO, Maria Gaspare, had suffered a seizure. The hit to stock prices was painful, but on the upside a few hangers-on from her father's era had sold their stock, and with it their little control over the family. Little did they know that the brokers were in Maria's pocket, and she bought up the shares to reinforce her position.

The employee gym was closed during the day, but Maria had a key that opened any door in the building. When Maria and her associates entered, the lights were on, the exercise equipment had been moved aside, and several mats had been set out. Across the room, a man in sparring pads leaned against the wall, looking at his phone.

"Bart, I don't pay you to play with your phone," Maria chided.

"You don't pay me at all," Bartolomeo said, slipped his phone into his pocket, and threw his arms up theatrically. He was older, but not old; around forty, but going gray prematurely, clean-shaven, and American, not that you would know it from his perfect Italian accent. "Where my money for the Munich job, huh?"

Gabriela was insulted on behalf of her boss, who was smiling playfully. "Don't talk to Ms. Gaspare that way, you're nothing but a glorified delivery boy!"

"Always good to see you too, Gaby, love what you've done with your hair," Bartolomeo said. He got a sour look in return. Gabriela had kept her hair buzzed short for as long as any of them had known her, and she wasn't impressed, even though she knew he was just trying to be aggravating.

"I'm sorry for the delay, you will of course be paid promptly," Maria said, and as she spoke she pulled out her own phone and sent a text to her assistant. "It will be wired to the usual account shortly, and a bit extra as a token of my appreciation for your patience."

"You are too kind, boss. And after what I have heard, the rumors are flying, you know?"

Maria's mood dropped a notch, her mouth drawing into a thin line. "You shouldn't gossip, Bartolomeo, it's unbecoming of you."

"Am I not allowed to worry for my boss? Even if it was only a seizure as the news says, and we both know you didn't have a seizure."

Luca shifted his weight and glared at Bartolomeo, and Gabriela's power bubbled just under the surface. Maria put a hand up to signal them to hold.

Bartolomeo drew a curved knife with a guarded edge, and Maria shrugged out of her suit jacket and pulled a baton the length of her forearm from her shoulder harness.

Both stepped onto the mats that made a makeshift ring, and Maria charged. It was all Bartolomeo could do to slide to the side and take a swing at her open side, but she dropped to the floor and swept his legs out from under him. He barely seemed to brush the ground before he kipped up and struck again, and Maria swept his blade aside with her baton.

As her arm went aside and she was left open, Bartolomeo sucker-punched Maria in the stomach.

She fell back a step, gasping for breath, but kept on her feet. He feinted for her stomach and she fell for it, and as she jerked back he stomped on her foot. He moved around her, grabbed her by the hair and yanked hard enough to pull her off her feet. She hit the floor flat on her back and despite the padding she clutched at the back of her head in pain.

Bartolomeo took a step back and flourished his knife. "One to zero, boss."

"I'm well aware!" she snapped, but it was less anger at him and more frustration at herself. She pushed herself up off the floor.

They went again, Maria's simmering anger fueling her strikes until she put Bartolomeo on the ground, and dropped him a second time, and he returned it with a strike that would have crippled if the edge were not guarded. The rounds blurred into each other, Maria burning hot and hotter each time she hit the floor, while Bartolomeo just seemed colder with each round.

This was nothing new. While he was technically in the lower part of the family's hierarchy, he was highly skilled, perceptive, and strong. He was trusted by Maria, and he was also one of the few people in the family who could keep up with her.

The hits got harder on each side, but where Maria got faster, Bartolomeo slowed down, taking his time and conserving his energy to last as long as he could, but slowing down all the same. Still, he knocked her down again.

"Maybe we should call it a draw, boss," he said, and was dismayed to see her peeling herself up again and grabbing her baton. "You'll get hurt like this."

"I'll be fine," she said shortly. "Come on, again."

"Ma'am, please," Gabriela said. "This is pushing it."

"Boss," Luca grunted, and that he vocalized it indicated his concern.

"I'm fine!" Maria insisted, and she ran straight for Bartolomeo.

His first instinct was to duck, brace, and drive her back over his shoulder and into the ground again, but Maria was smarter than that, and he knew it. She didn't do wild charges that would never succeed.

Instead of a direct counter, Bartolomeo tightened his abdominal muscles and took the hit, and it hurt as Maria struck him across the stomach, but it also put him in position to grab Maria by the wrist. She stomped on his foot and dug her nails into his skin, but he didn't let up. He said, very quietly, "What happened, Maria?"

"Let go of me!" she snapped, and he let go.

Bartolomeo tossed his knife off to the side. "What are you looking to accomplish here, boss?"

"Pick up your weapon!"

"What happened?" he said. He looked past Maria to Luca and Gabriela. "What happened?" he said again.

"Don't speak of me like I'm not here!" Maria snapped.

"Then answer my question, boss."

As Bartolomeo looked at her sternly, Maria flinched back. She could feel dead eyes on her, and for a moment, she flashed back to the shrieking accusations, 'It's your fault I'm dead!' She clapped a hand over her mouth to restrain a sob.

"Madame," Gabriela said softly, and Bartolomeo backed off as Gabriela approached and offered a hand to Maria. Maria took it, allowing herself to be led to a bench off to the side. She held up a hand to signal for them to hold off for a moment as she gathered her thoughts.

"All three of you know the family's history?" she said finally. "The Angelo, split down the middle by my grandfather and great-aunt. We stayed here, in Milan; Adamo's First went to Renatti. Both too weak to pose a threat to the Vongola, but given our history it was natural we were still on their radar. When the Berlin Wall fell, all of Adamo the Second's assets in the Eastern bloc went kaput, and the family never quite recovered. His son, Dante, has been scrambling to fix their finances for a while; I figured they would be selling off their assets within the next few years to fend off their debtors. Then, out of the clear blue sky, Dante asks to meet me."

As she related the events of the meeting, Bartolomeo looked more and more angry, while Maria spoke with a steady voice.

"I saw Dante's ring light with a Flame," Maria said, and Luca nodded in understanding. "It is the family's power; they say that with a mere touch, Dante's grandfather could drive men to madness. I didn't know what, exactly, Dante intended to do to Sawada, but if he laid a hand him, Sawada would readily use it as an excuse to retaliate against my family. Anyone who knew Dante's late wife knew that she had been a militant pacifist, she spoke of it extensively the one time we met, and I tried to appeal to that; instead, he was angered that I invoked Lilith's name, and attacked me.

"I would greatly prefer that it not come down to war, as you well know. Gang wars weaken both sides, catch civilians in the middle, draw the attention of the police, and risk the Vindice coming down on everyone's heads. But, I fear that Dante may be cracking under the pressure, and if he acts rashly we cannot lie back and take it. And if it does come to war, I would rather you know what we are up against. Gabriela, I would ask you to tell the others this."

Gabriela nodded, understanding 'others' as the other upper executives of the family. "Of course, madame."

"When Dante touched me, my mind was overcome with images of death. It was like a waking nightmare. I saw all of you, my dearest family, dead, and I was certain that it was my fault. I was paralyzed with terror, and could not fight back. I-" Her voice broke, and her eyes were welling up with tears. Maria put a hand over her mouth again. "A touch," she said. "That's all he needs, but he needs that much. I don't know if it is possible to resist the effect once it has taken hold-all of you can see the lingering effect his power has had on me-but the question becomes irrelevant if he never gets close enough to touch you."

"It's a good thing none of us are best at close-quarters," Bartolomeo said sardonically, and got a hint of a smile from Maria. "Mm-hm. Is there anything else we should know about them, boss?"

Maria closed her eyes as she thought. "The Angelo Family had control over several powerful artifacts during its height, just as the Vongola still has, though I would need to refer to my grandfather's journals to know which were lost and which went with the Adamo in the schism, aside from the boss's ring which Dante now wears, the fool."

Luca reached back and touched the gavel-shaped war hammer he wore on his back, and then signed, 'You want?'

"Heh. I think I'll have to turn you down on that one, my friend. Unfortunately, I don't think I would be able to use that weapon to its full potential."

Luca shrugged. 'OK. I'll beat Dante for you,' he signed, using the letter 'D' and the sign for 'stupid'.

"Only if he attacks you first, Luca, I'm not starting a fight. For now, keep a close eye out. Knowing you, you will want to research the family's artifacts, am I right?" He nodded. "You may have full access to my personal library to begin your research. Gabriela, speak to the others about what I have told you. Bartolomeo-"

"Yes, boss?"

"Go talk to Samson, he should have some work for you. If that's alright, of course."

Samson was Vice President of Operations for the Noble Company, and the head of the Eva Family's small assassination squad. At nearly sixty years old, he was looking at retirement sometime in the next few years. Both he and Maria were looking at Bartolomeo to potentially be Samson's successor.

"Of course, boss, I am only too happy to help."

"Alright, then, to work." Maria frowned, looked at the ground, and stood up. "Thank you for talking some sense into me. I am eternally grateful to have friends, family, as good as all of you."

Bartolomeo grinned, Gabriela smiled a little and nodded, and Luca clapped Maria on the shoulder. Her knees nearly buckled from the force of it.

16. Balance the chemical equation. Completely rewrite the chemical equation with the correct coefficients in the space below. (10pts)

S + HNO3 (=) H2SO4 + NO2 + H2O

Tsuna wrote out the symbols for each of the four elements in a vertical column and wrote the number of atoms of each on each side of the equation, then stared at the problem for about thirty seconds, and decided he would come back to it when he finished with the rest.

When he finished with the rest of the problems, he returned to number 16. He stared at it for a minute, then another minute. Half of the class had already turned in their test; next to him, Yamamoto stood up and took his test up to the front.

Come on, I can do this. He experimentally put a number in, but that wouldn't work, there would only ever be an even number of Hydrogen atoms on the right side-wait! It hit him like a bolt from the blue, and he scratched down, "Coeff. of HNO3 must be even." That was a starting point, he thought.

Tsuna tried putting in a 4, and spent a good two minutes trying to balance the equation from there, but it came out as an unworkable mess. He erased what he had and started from the beginning, and put in a 6 in front of HNO3. That's 6 H's, 6 N's, 18 O's, and I can balance the N's on the right side with 6NO2, which makes 6 N's and 17 O's, and...and four? Yeah, a two in front of H2O makes 6 H's, 6 N's, and 18 O's, and one S on each side!

He checked his addition because he did not trust himself in that regard, and it came out correct again; he rewrote the entire thing neatly in the space, checked that he had written his name on the first page, and turned his test into the front. Nezu gave him a dirty look, but Tsuna found it difficult to care when he was actually feeling pretty good about a science test.

The rest of the school day passed uneventfully; he went up to the reception room at the end of the day, only to learn that Hibari was out, so he went home. As he walked through the gate in front of the school, his phone buzzed with a text message from his father saying that he would pick Tsuna up tomorrow morning to go into town. No question, no request, just fact of the matter. Well, maybe he could convince his father to talk to his mother.

Cause I really wanted to spend my Saturday morning shopping downtown with my dad, geez.