Hey hey hey kids! It's super rainy here! I think you know this already... the finale is coming soon. OK generally, if it's a drama, it should have many, many maaaany chapters before it ends. But that's precisey what i hate about drama (i mean, drama like in soap operas). I think that making a story going longer and longer only to look more angstyish and all is only a waste of time, and i personally prefer story with a concrete evolution, concrete steps the characters have to overcome, and once it's over, it's over! (sorry if i'm rude. please dont hate me!)

i hope i didn't disappoint you with how the story turned to be. I wanted something a little 'mature' but finally i understood that if i myself didn't grow on the inside, my stories wouldn't as well. Anyway i feel (even if it's only a little) that i somehow improved since the times i first started to write fanfiction...

But maybe it's too much talking for now. PLease, enjoy \(^o^)/


When Bel's 'gift' arrived in Xanxus' mailbox, the latter wasn't in his office yet. The raven had spent the whole day cloistered between four walls with an army of lawyers behind him, and another army of lawyers before him, each party whether typing with a devilish speed on their computers, ruffling through stacks and stacks of papers, or arguing/yelling/calling the other party names in a so distinguished way the whole pageant could be worth a Shakespearian play.

This kind of stuff could happen, now and then. Stupid prosecutions because of some stupid scumbag whining about some stupid short selling, whitewashing, tax evasions and other malversations since his army of lawyers which was paid a generous amount every month precisely to avoid such inconveniences, didn't do their job right. The scaffold was already prepared in the tanned man's office for those incompetents. Literally.

Oh well, at least, it wasn't a matter of lousy environmental regulations. The raven could stand no more those fanatical ecologists and humanists blabbering all over the place about the company's 'evil' way of doing business. No, this time, it was merely the continuation of the pitiful case of few months ago.

Daulay had ranted. His attorneys had ranted. Law courts, press and investors had ranted. It all became a noisy and headache-inducing ranting all around the raven. And who knew how, but one day, Daulay's representatives just all started swanking about detaining indubitable evidences and compromising proves of each one of VR Co.'s venalities throughout the last months. A sheer load of bullshit. Xanxus almost burst out laughing hearing that threat. In the end, the Danish was only frustrated by the loss of Byakuran's support after WHS Holding dumped them for VR Co, thus allowing the latter to devour the former. Completely.

Nevertheless, even a worthless trash like the Danish wouldn't bark those insanities with no reason. Was it possible that someone had sold them information about VR Co.? And if that was indeed the case, who was that person and how did they succeeded obtaining them? While the lawyers were making their show, Xanxus virtually drew up a list of potential Judas.

Alright. Now, the issue was only this: search and destroy. Search for the mole and destroy it, pitilessly, implacably. But who could, in the same time, reach the Holy of Holies of the company – the unspeakable truths behind its apparent success – and take advantage of it?

"It has to be someone from the inside." Ieyasu murmured to Xanxus after eight long hours of a non-stop interrogatory. The lackeys of the Attorney had at least the decency of giving them food (insipid sandwiches and horrid coffee). Normally, VR Co.' Board and main staff members weren't allowed to talk to each other, but Sawada Ieyasu being the CEO's personal counselor, he was the only exception. "I'll make my men dig in that crap. They should find out who the culprit is within three or four hours."

"You have one hour." Xanxus grunted. They were in a white and sterilized room those trashes called a refectory. He was sitting on a table, an old and moldy sandwich in a dish before him, but he actually couldn't tell whether he was the one eyeing at the sandwich or if the sandwich was the one staring at him. "I fucking can't stand this goddamn place. Hey, scum," Xanxus called at the older man before he left. "Daulay. You already know what you have to do about that fucker. And I want a proper work."

Just like in the Holy Scriptures, so it was.

The last hour of examination had been the worst one. Xanxus was hungry, thus irritable; he was tired, thus even more irritable. But fortunately for him, sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof: exactly one hour after their discussion, Ieyasu came back with a name. Byakuran was the one to beat.

Barely twenty minutes after they released the raven, when Sawada's subordinates found the white haired man, he was in the dining-room of his hotel suite, smiling, nearly beaming at the group of hired men who had broken in the place in the middle of the evening.. The man hadn't even tried to defend himself or deny anything. No guard could be seen around the place. Saying that Byakuran was a real fox who had more than one trick up his sleeve, was an understatement.

"I want a parley. Now." He said very simply despite the fact that a silencer was aiming at his temple.

Xanxus came in, just like a ghastly and earthbound Thanatos, his crimson eyes filled with disdain and scorn and boredom, his face a mask of solemn annoyance, from the double-door entrance of the suite. They couldn't meet at the head office. It was an absolutely no-no choice since it had become some kind of new headquarters for the Attorney general. Xanxus didn't even give the impression he was aware of Byakuran's presence. Ieyasu, as always, was following him from behind.

Then it was time for business, and the first one to speak was the first to lose.

"Nice to see you this evening, Xanxus." Byakuran greeted. Okay, this didn't actually count.

Xanxus took place at the head of the table in the 'dining-room' "Shut the fuck up, you motherfucking puss." An underling lit the cigar between the tanned man's lips. A deep inhalation, breathing out, then a thick white cloud. "Or I'll cut your fucking tongue. Right at the spot."

Byakuran eyed joyfully at him. "My, you're tired, I assume. The interrogatory must have been tedious."

The metallic clunk of a gun. Magazine loaded. "You do have a fucking death wish, shitty trash."

The white haired man chuckled lightly. That was Byakuran, the soft and sophisticated young dandy who made fortune with his stepfather's money. And few meters from him, Xanxus, a man who made his name with sweat and blood and guts (mostly other people's). His father indeed gave him the basement, but he had been the one who made a fucking castle out of a fucking shanty. Did that young-master-shit believe he could fuck him and get out of the crap he made that easily?

"Let's talk like gentlemen." Ieyasu's voice raised. That old man had his serious face specially made for serious situations. "Byakuran, you have something we want, and we have something you want. From that basis, everything's okay for both of us. All we have to do now is to settle the conditions for the deal. First, you, Byakuran. We want you to delete all data, documents, recordings of any sort implying personal and professional transcription involving VR Co. currently in your hands or in one of your employees and/or-"

"I got it, Ieyasu. I got it. Now, my conditions." Byakuran cut drily, his expression suddenly as hard and icy as his eyes, though his voice would have sounded a little, scarcely shaky for an expert. "I want your watchdogs away from Shouichi. No more prowling around. No more threatening. I want you to leave him alone. You forget him, you forget you ever became interested with him in the first place, and why you did."

The room became silent. On his seat, Xanxus looked like he was asleep. Byakuran, though, was fully awake. His usual countenance back, the white haired man took a look at his watch. He smiled. "God, it's already 10 p.m. This dear Daulay must be dead by now."

Gokudera was lost in deep thoughts, eyebrows knitted and arms folded on his desk. When he was in that kind of state, his eyeglasses would always slid lightly on the bridge of his nose, making him look a little like an old granny. About that, Tsuna had never told the young silverette. Fortunately, the classes were over and all the students apart from them two had left the classroom, so no one was going to witness that not-so-cool part of him.

"So, you're telling me that someone has been stalking that sensei for some time now." Tsuna nodded. "That it's some weirdo you've never seen before, but lately you saw him attending the same courses as us. " Tsuna nodded again. "And you're asking me to do something about it?" Again, a nod. "Umm…"

"I'm sorry, Gokudera!" Tsuna bowed diffidently. "I know I shouldn't ask this from you, but Yamamoto is always training for his games, I don't want to bother him with my doubts. And apart from him, I don't know anyone who exactly did have a talk with sensei. Yeah, I know, you didn't either! But I swear it had become really strange, lately! I-I don't know exactly when it all started, and at first I thought he was a guy I've seen here but forgot afterward… But now I'm sure he isn't! His name isn't even in the university's registry! When I come back home, he's there, and when I leave in the morning, he's also there. Sometime I see him talking with other students, so I asked them if they knew him, but they said he was only guy they were hanging with now and then. No one knows who he truly is!"

Hayato listened to his friend with a sincere attention. As a matter of fact, he didn't have any particular problems at helping the brunet. On the contrary, he would have been glad to do his friend that turn… If it hadn't involved that Superbi Squalo. He still didn't truly understand what happened that night in the restaurant. Just what was the relationship between him and Xanxus? How did they ever meet? And finally, what Tsuna had witnessed, was it possible that everything was connected? It was a total jigsaw for Hayato.

But something else also was titillating him about the long haired man – a way more shameful and unavowable detail that he himself couldn't exactly pinpoint. It was that little wrench, that inner anger, that sensation of helplessness the youth felt every time that baseball freak was talking to or about the older silver haired one. At those moments, Hayato recalled, Yamamoto's face was expressing nothing but utter fondness and admiration. This was annoying Hayato. It was annoying him deeply, even if he couldn't tell why.

He obviously never said anything about this to Tsuna. What's the point? As a matter of fact, he had never been particularly close with Yamamoto, and never intended to. He was a mere acquaintance, the kind of guy you can see and talk to for the entire day without ever mingling with their life or knowing anything particularly important about them.

Expect the fact that he got used seeing and talking to that moron day after day and, to some extent, learning more about him, about what he liked, about his family and that goddamn baseball thing the idiot would ramble on and on. Hell, Hayato even got used attending each one of the other idiot's baseball training since their first year of high school, and this even if Tsuna couldn't come. At those times, he would only say he came on Tsuna's behalf, but he personally didn't give a fuck about the idiot winning or losing those stupid matches.

But now things were just so different… he didn't like that stupid look the dark haired boy had with the older swordsman, the time that freak was spending with him, the impression of being slowly but surely pushed aside.

And all those facts added together actually fathered in the young man an unknown animosity toward the older silverette.

Hayato simply couldn't and wouldn't tell Tsuna about that. So it didn't leave him with other options but accept the smaller boy's request. "Okay, okay. I'll help you." He agreed. "What do I have to do?"

"Almost 7 p.m. and still no reply from the Boss." Bel remarked. He was eating instant noodles, eyes fixed on the fifteen small videos on his tablets and PC, each one showing whether an empty room in Squalo's apartment, a corridor in the building or his office at Namimori U. The silver haired peasant was nowhere to be seen. In general, if the target wouldn't be found at one of those spots – consequently if he was moving – the blond should be following him and keep on recording what he was doing and with who he was doing it. But that day was a tad different for Belphegor.

It was a very, very boring evening. Finally the grey weather had taken out its color on the youth. Normally, by that time, Xanxus would have sent him a message with new instructions for his next move… But at the moment, nothing. There was absolutely nothing.

"Aaa. Did he forget it?" He asked out loud, though he was the only one in his small flat. "Boss would better not forget it. It's already quite annoying to collect those stuffs. Cheee. I'm fed up of this game. I should tell him that. Shishishi. I'm sure Boss won't laugh at all. Anyway I'm fed up eating instant food every daaay!"

He threw the half-empty box against the wall. The noodles left a dirty stain on the wallpaper, however Bel didn't seem to notice it and just slouched on a mattress he had set on the ground. One thing truly cruel at spying on people is the fact you have to see everything they do – eat normally, sleep normally, go to work, talk with people – while you're actually forced to live like a recluse in order not to get caught. Eating, mostly, was important: Belphegor was sick and tired of the food from convenience store. You may find it weird to see a boy his age getting tired eating carbohydrate based food, but after four orfive days of sustaining only with this when the meals of the one you're spying on consist day by day into fresh and red meat, fine wine and home-made high class deserts, you start to doubt about the relevance of your job.

In the end, he couldn't become James Bond. So Bel decided to turn into a Doctor No.

"To hell with this!" Bel stood up. "I'm a prince, why should I eat instant noodles and that peasant ice cream? Shishishi. I'll make them pay later."

The blond shut his PC off and took only a tablet with him as he left his building. He sneaked easily in the opposite one, reached Squalo's door with no trouble, and then entered in. If his memory didn't betray him, there must be pudding in the fridge, Bel pondered before pulling at the handle of the apparel.

Bingo.

Pudding, Cobb salad and sashimi. The prince settled on the couch with his loot – a coffee cabinet on top of everything – and turned the TV on.

"Well, it's still amazing." He said between two chomps. "Why does that peasant have so much food stored? Even if he has no one to eat with at home. It would be a shame to waste it. Fortunately I'm here. Ushishishishi."

Of course, the boy didn't report his robbery in the boss' 'gifts', and he had absolutely no idea where Squalo was (probably having dinner with Dino again since he wasn't in Namimori U anymore). A respectable burp made its way out of the blond's mouth as he just slumped in the couch, full and satiated, the top of his tummy altogether with his bangs almost completely obstructing his peripheral vision. The low humming of the TV was leisurely lulling the Prince, making his eyelids go heavier and heavier by the second… when the phone suddenly rang.

Bel grunted with displeasure. Who the hell dared disturbing him during his respite? He wanted to pick up, but it would have busted his cover. Plus he would need to get up to reach the damn thing. Anyway, the annoying ringing soon was gone… Only to come back barely two minutes later.

"Yeaaah?" Finally, exasperated, the blond answered.

"Eh? Did I dial the wrong number?" Dino said at the end of the line. "I'm sorry if I disturb you…"

"You got nothing wrong. Squalo isn't at home yet, if he's the one you're looking for."

"Really? Aaah, and he isn't picking up either… Um… Can I leave a message?"

"Peasant. Do I sound like a secretary? Shishishi. Just kidding." Bel said as he suddenly remembered his role. "This prince will be glad to pass it on."

"Oh, thank you so much! Tell Squalo I'll be waiting for him Saturday morning in front of his building, please. By 8. I've already arranged everything, so he doesn't have to worry about anything else…"

Bel irreverently stuffed another handful of sashimi in his mouth. "Saturday at 8 in the morning, you say? I think it won't be possible. This peasant still has stuff to do till 11. Something like a party with old and rich people. The university told him to go. This peasant is very popular amongst old people, you know? They hope he'll bring money for his department. Shishishi. Little chances he finishes sooner."

"Oh, then… Can I wait for him at home?"

"Bad idea, if you want my opinion. Since this morning, Squalo-sensei had been overloaded with work. That's why I'm helping him here. Articles to be published and all. I don't remember anymore. His room is a mess and it's likely he won't accept leaving before a whole cleaning. You know how much sensei can't stand it when everything is messy."

"Yeah, I know what you mean…"

"Look. What about he goes see you straight after he's through? Just leave an address or anything…"

"Really? It may be a little tough with the plane, though… Well, it can't be helped. Tell him I'll be at the airport. In the departure lounge. I'll be waiting for him."

"Yup. And one last thing: you'd better not call him before this week end. He would only yell at you."

"Yes. Thank you. And, er…" Dino hesitated. "Can you tell me who you are, please?"

"I'm just a student of his. Bye-by." Bel yawned, tired by all his improvisations. Sometimes, it wasn't too bad to be a congenital mythomaniac.

The blond replaced the receiver and grinned. The Boss surely will be very happy to learn his beloved mistress planned having a romantic weekend with his lover. A very productive trip, indeed. Collecting both information and food wasn't something even James Bond could do. For this night, the blond decided it was plenty enough work done. He went home and immediately prepared an urgent note for the raven. No more slacking off for tomorrow, Bel promised to himself.

Thus, the next day, he woke up at 11 a.m.

Spying on someone in the crowd is always difficult. If you decided stalking your target inside, high are the chances you'll lose sight of them within the swarm of poor peasants. But in the same time, keeping a safe distance from them – that is, not too close and not too far – make your tracking way more efficient. In point of fact, the best option would be to have at least one agent within a radius of 20 meters around the target, and another one at a more remote place (hiding in a building, in a car or anything else) supervising the other pawns.

But in Bel's case, he was alone. Xanxus specifically suggested that no one else but him would be informed of this tracking. Such a timid man, that Boss. Bel was sure the raven was pretty reluctant asking someone to do this in the first place – how could the great, the strong and powerful Xanxus fall as low as staking out his lover? – even more doing it himself. If it hadn't been that fortuitous call Bel had made two weeks earlier, Xanxus would still be ruminating his anger in his wide and cold office, just like a… well, like a jealous husband. Now he was the type husband who would ask their wife's friends to keep an eye on her. And more than just one eye. He gave Bel the means and the bucks to do his little spying, but forbade any more intrusion in his private life. Consequently, no accomplice, no assistance, no shameful secret leaking out.

However, an acolyte would certainly have prevented the trouble Bel had been faced to the next morning.

First, he arrived late, too late. The first course of the silverette had already begun. It was okay; at any rate he would always fall asleep at the beginning. After that, Bel had to slip sneakily through the Student Council's patrols. This, too, hadn't been too hard for him. But when finally Bel thought he could reach the classroom for his next course, he got assaulted at the corner of a corridor.

It was a quick and almost imperceptible hit directed straight at his head, still easily dodged by the blond. A crash resounded behind him, he turned back: in the window pane, a hole, probably done by the baseball ball which had just been thrown at him, was now fully visible.

"Shishishi. The President isn't gonna be happy about it." Bel grinned at his attacker who was walking to him as if nothing happened.

"Yeah, he is." Gokudera replied. "If I tell him a mole had infiltrated Namimori U. But if you tell me right now who you are and what you're up to, I may consider letting you go."

As an answer, Bel's grin widened. He put his tongue out and run away. The young silverette went after him, cursing in his inner-self at the other's rapidity. Hayato almost lost track of him in the many mazes of the university, running in the stairs, sometimes jumping from a window to another, almost always throwing random things at each other: books, chairs, other students… Until Hibari Kyoya literally fell from the sky like a dark puma pouncing on his prey, and beat the hell out of them, or to quote the president: 'bit them to death'.

Kyoya's men brought the half-dead troublemakers to his office where their sentence was already waiting for them. But in Namimori U were the martial law had simply become the law itself, Hibari Kyoya was as an angel-faced despot many had described worse than Stalin himself as his right-hand man was a man who had a deep respect for diplomacy and in human dignity general.

The president sat behind his desk and propped elbows on it, chin poised on intertwined delicate fingers, palms turned downwards and cynical expression on his thin lips. "A trial?" Hibari raised an inquiring eyebrow at Kusakabe. "Why a trial? In my eyes, those two are guilty enough to deserve death penalty."

"Wait, Kyo-san!" A drop of sweat dripped on the taller youth's temple. "It's not as if we could actually kill them anyway. Maybe we should take some time to listen to what they have to say, and decide afterward what the sentence should be…"

Kyoya shrugged then leaned on his armchair as a king suffering for once the misfortune of his people. "Humph. Again with that uncalled humanity of yours. Good. I'll listen. First, this herbivore." He glared at Hayato who was kneeling right down on the ground as well as Bel.

"Huh? Why do I have to…" The young silverette began, but silenced rapidly as Kusakabe waved frantically his hands behind Kyoya's back, a terrible look on his face as though to say: 'Don't madden him no more!' "This bastard's a spy!" He swiftly pointed a condemning finger at an aloof and drooling blond. "He's been stalking a professor here and at his house. He's just crazy!"

"That a stranger is harassing a professor on Namimori U's grounds and even outside," Hibari spoke. "I don't think it has to do anything with you. It's even less a reason to destroy the university's properties, isn't it?"

"That's right." The wise Kusakabe added. "You should have called the cops or at least ask for advice from the Student Council. By the way, do you have any evidence of what you're saying?"

Gokudera stiffed. "No… But there's a witness who testified he had seen that weirdo around the professor's house (he saw that because he lives nearby). And I'm sure if you verify the university's registries, you won't find this guy anywhere!"

Kusakabe nodded. "We'll do this later. By then, does the defendant have anything to say?"

The defendant, aka Belphegor, just kept on staring at the ceiling (that was at least the impression he was giving, with his head tilted up and thick locks concealing his eyes), mouth half-open and arms dangling at his sides. All of a sudden, he jerked faintly and looked alternatively at the people in the Council's bureau. He stared for a long time at Hibari and Gokudera, then grinned. "Aaah. I remember those peasants! The baseball player's fans! Shishishi!"

Bam. Hibari violently hit the desk with his tonfa, and exactly in the same time Gokudera quickly rose up, cheeks burning red. Both were fuming and looking daggers at Bel.

"Who the fuck is that freak's fan, you say?" Hayato hissed.

"I'll tear your tongue off of your mouth and feed the crows with it, herbivore." Kyoya menaced.

Belphegor rolled on himself. "Shishishi! I'm a genius so I can tell. Just how many days do you think I've been watching all of you, stupid peasants?"

The heat quickly rose higher. Alerted by the sudden change of mood in the place, Kusakabe interposed between the stalker and the 'fans'. "Calm down, both of you! Don't you see he's trying to turn us against each other? Plus he's just confessed his offence, hasn't he…"

"I can't stomach that baseball freak!" Hayato defended himself. "I'm only tagging along with that idiot because Tsuna is. That's all! I wouldn't have even talked to him in the very first place."

"I don't mingle with herbivores." Kyoya simply spat.

"Oh, true?" Bel got naughtier. "Because~ it's not as if that idiotic peasant gave any sign he's interested or anything. The little brain he has only allows him to focus on one thing in one time. Shishishi! Lately it's the baseball championship. But once it's over, I'm positive he'll go back to his previous focus. Your sensei, I mean." The blond' grin suddenly disappeared as a condescending air spread on his face. "Aaah! now I think about it, it's hopeless since Squalo-sensei is in love with Boss. The photo I took with his phone, that photo of Xanxus sleeping in his bed, is the biggest proof of what I say!"

By the end of his tirade, Bel was up on his feet, his hands raised above his head in a theatrical way. And in living memory and mystery thrillers memory, there had been no confession as fast and easily dragged out than this one.

TBC