I quickly blinked away my wide-eyed stare, "Of course, sir! This one shall see to it immediately."

I had received some ridiculous missions in my apprenticeship, from that month in antarctica to crossing all the traffic light signals in Paris or that time when we stole Christmas from all the antimafia taskforces on sir's whim, but this took the cake.

How was I supposed to deliver a dolphin to Reborn within the day, healthy and hyperactive and ready to encourage the Young Master to swim? There was also a caveat that the dolphin in question make the Young Master fear for his life, but Iruka was a prime example of sociopathy, so that was significantly less of a problem.

"Good boy!" My boss ruffled my hair, "We have lots to do right now! Salt is fizzing and needs recharging, plus Verde wants to experiment on Moretti, so we need to tell him no and also talk to him about the assassins he sent, plus Colonello wants us to pay for Mafia Land repairs but Oregano says we don't have the money—but that's not your job!"

He suddenly turned serious, "A new Famiglia has just popped up and they have shown a worrying knack for knowing the right things and getting into the wrong places, and more than that, Mukuro has confirmed that they are weaponizing Harmonization. A certain 'M.M.' barely escaped. I need you to take him and whoever can be held over him to Japan, we can't afford to lose him."

"Yes, sir." That would be four extra passengers: Mukuro, Ken, Chikusa, and M.M., although Mukuro refused to admit that he cared for her and she was technically an informant, not a member of the Vongola. "Discretionary funds will be required to hire M.M. from her family."

"Haha, you're a big boy, Basil! If it's less than five thousand euros, you don't need to ask! —you know what? Just sign out five thousand euros, and get yourself a treat with the change, your shishou won't tell!"

And my boss strolled off, whistling.

Right. Sir was perfectly aware of my spending habits, which meant that the money was not for dresses, given the amount. Instead… the point of cash was that it was untraceable, and that either meant the I was supposed to get Mukuro to go to ground, or use it for semi-illegitimate purposes.

The seven years and a day countdown ticked in my head. I needed to find Checkerface before this month was over, and when I bore a Hell Ring the dominion of which was the improbable, that would mean stumbling across him by chance. The sixth sense that I had developed promised that he was in Japan, so I would need to wander the nation, beginning with Namimori.

The funds would be for me then.

Time to figure out Iruka.

I found my little brother shamelessly taking advantage of a sobbing woman, enjoying chin scritches in between coaxing her into feeding him sardines. Really, I didn't know where I went wrong with him.

I sighed and waited for Borage to feel better. She had been crying at the CEDEF emotional support dolphin pool for a week now after her breakup, and all Turmeric had said on the matter was that it took time. I found the whole affair rather boring, to tell the truth—her girlfriend hadn't even been a police informant, let alone a spy, and neither had been trying to seduce anything out of the other. Bianchi disagreed, but then, she's always held a soft spot for lurid romances.

Finally, Borage gave the dolphin a final scratch, got up, and left without noticing me (as was typical).

I set down my binder, then dove into the pool.

"[Elder-sibling-playmate]!" Iruka trilled, "How are you? Do you have squid? What have you been doing with your hands? I'm bored! Play with me!"

"Very well, thank you, Iruka." I conjured up a Mist-Squid, "You didn't seem bored when you were wheedling treats from poor Borage."

He snatched it up in an instant, splashing me in the face with a flip of his flukes, "Unfair! You have fingers! That's far more interesting than snacks—even if snacks are very interesting too! I want to go on more assassination missions!"

Did I mention that Iruka was a bit of a sociopath? To be fair, he was a dolphin, so he wasn't killing his own kind, but still, he had an unhealthy predilection for murder.

"There are only so many people who can be killed near water." I spluttered once I came up again, "But you're right, we do have an opportunity for fun."

"Oooh! Do tell!"

I grinned, "How do you feel about scaring my Young Master?"

"That's going to be interesting! But what do you mean about scaring him? Do I get to bite? Impersonate an orca? Follow him onto land?"

"That will depend on [Nightmare-blue-ringed-octopus]." I said, meaning Reborn, "But first, we'll have to find a way to get you to Namimori."

"Not the harness!" He complained, "I hate gravity."

"We can't use the harness this time—"

Iruka let out a gleeful sound and leapt into the air.

"—since we don't have private transport available to us." I flopped onto my back, "In fact, I don't know how we're supposed to go there."

"That's simple!" Iruka clicked, "[Sea-taste-breathless] has been showing me how to fix that!"

"How?" I asked warily, because Daemon, despite (or due to) Oregano's best efforts, did not have the soundest of judgements, and while I did appreciate what he taught me involving poking about in people's heads, turning into eldritch abominations after consuming inordinate amounts of power (significantly greater than the head-size limit suggested by certain reputable sources) was not a reasonable way to go about things.

"Like this!"

This time, when Iruka leapt up, he stayed aloft, swimming in the air as if it was water and trailing golden Flame from his flukes. "See?" He whistled, "I don't need all those stupid things anymore! I can move as well as any landlubber!"

On one hand, that did solve the logistics of the issue, but on the other hand, hiding a flying dolphin from curious eyes was going to be difficult.

Well, it was lucky that I wasn't going to be the only Mist on the trip.

"Every time I meet you, I get more work." Mukuro complained, "I'm beginning to regret my decision to wait and see with my plans—I should be the one giving you work, not the other way around."

"Confirmation bias, Goodman Mukuro, is beneath thee. Thou shalt find the opportunity to purchase more overpriced chocolate at the airport using the Vongola's money." I paused, tapping my chin, "It must be shared with M.M., however."

Mukuro shot up straight in his seat, "That harpy?"

"This one can hardly be the judge of that." I belied the statement by poking at the muffled presence in my head pointedly. Mukuro could at least have the decency not to pretend at an absence of attachment when the contract that stood between us gave me a direct line into his head (when we were feeling like invading each other's privacy and inviting retaliation, that was).

"She is an irritating, gold-digging, self-important devil of a woman!"

"Thou sayest not that thou carest not." I nobly resisted rolling my eyes.

"Don't you dare." Mukuro growled.

I crossed my arms, "A 'thank you' would have been appreciated."

However, because we owed each other some degree of courtesy, I didn't actually say that M.M. could be used against him. That would have been a declaration of hostility, and for all that we tried to make each other miserable, we weren't enemies. Even if one of us kept trying my patience.

"My dear Basilicum, I imagine that my brave and graceful endurance of the squalling babes and loathsomely narrow seats of Economy Class shall be thanks enough." Mukuro had only refined his sense of melodrama as he aged, and it had not been helped by prolonged contact with Salt.

"Upon thee this one has a greater burden lain." I reminded him.

"Ten hours of concealing a flying marine mammal?" He asked, disgusted.

"Assisting this one in doing so." I corrected, "Thy help shall be appreciated, but this one will most likely not have it on this one's return, after all."

He caught that, leaning forward and focusing on my face, "You intend to leave me there, don't you?"

I answered affirmative, "The threat the Tranello pose is too great to risk thee, no matter how much this one may find it poetically just."

"But why not England? Or Germany? Or those bleak Siberian Steppes?" He asked, conjuring up images of the Globe theater, Oma's gingerbread cottage, and a chicken-legged hut that was far too fat from nibbling on confectionary, "Why Japan, of all places?"

In the course of the last seven years, we had worked out slightly more reasonable reaction to his grudge against the Mafia, and I had managed to extract from him the promise to give the Young Master a chance and see if his goals were worth following—for a price, of course, but for all his talk all Mukuro had done was attempt to leverage it to get me to do his work for him—and my expression, as well as what feedback he got from our closed connection was enough for him to recognize that it was finally time.

He let out a laugh as he realized, "Bringing both me and your murder dolphin called dolphin with you and all the bad luck that follows you around to where he lives? That boy's going to hate you, CEDEF!"

"'tis commendable that thou dost realize that thou art an owner of not one good quality and an enemy of all good people." I shot back acridly, "This one is full certain that with thine efforts, this one shall be but half as resented as thee. We shall embark on the morrow—brace thyself for thy loss of the affections of the elderly—they shall read the signs of thy delinquency and stay well away from thee."

Mukuro sneered, "Brace yourself, M.M.'s going to sit next to you."

211. My Ring chimed cheerfully in confirmation.

The things I did for the Sawadas' sakes.