A Note to the Readers: Oh wow! I was not expecting this story to get any views at all, being something written for self-indulgence. Thank you for IceLeigh, Loveyourebornsama, bookwormlover, and koldy for following.

I've also noticed as I was fleshing out our OC, that she is more of an anti-hero than a real heroine. I hope that doesn't bother you too much.

CHAPTER ONE

The Reunion

Two Years Later

"I look like a girl from one of those Japanese pornographies," Rosetta says, eyeing the hemline of her skirt critically. The uniform is not that bad, per se. She's just not used to it. One, she was always home-schooled. Two, she doesn't see the point in short skirts unless one is trying for seduction.

"Your classmates will wear the same thing," Kusakabe Takenaka says patiently.

"Then we'll all look like porn stars." She twirls and frowns miserably as she catches a peek of her hemline. "Am I allowed to wear shorts?"

"As long as it's not visible, you can," Ryuusei emerges from the door of her room, fixing his tie. Takenaka bows as she inclines her head respectfully. Privacy is a luxury in the Yakuza.

"And I am, to what? Study?"

"It's a perfect exercise for your patience, and you will learn valuable lessons," Takenaka explains, nodding to himself.

"You've studied in Namimori as well?" She asks the retainer who cracks a smile her outward suspicion.

"Yes, I have."

Rosetta takes her chances. "And what valuable lessons have you learned?"

Takenaka shrugs, ignoring her barb. "I've survived the longest as Hibari-san's retainer."

Rosetta purses her lips and sits on one of the plush seats. They're at an expensive hotel in central Tokyo, one that offers a wonderful view of the sprawling city. They've been staying there for a few hours at most, a short respite from the long overseas flight.

"Good for you, then." She replies offhandedly giving up.

"Thank you," Takenaka says.

"That was not a compliment, Kusakabe-san."

"I'll take it as I see it."

"Your son is also my husband's retainer, is he?" She observes, frowning. She hasn't seen Hibari Kyoya since their wedding. Any form of communication seemed impossible. Her efforts were ignored. Calls were rejected, letters sent back. But she wrote to him anyway, a letter a week in her budding Japanese. Sometimes she wrote about work, sometimes she wrote about herself, sometimes she cursed him, just to see if he'd write back.

"Speaking of sons," Rosetta cranes her head to Ryuusei who is standing by the window, "How is Hibari Kyoya?" She tries to keep her expression neutral.

"Regrettably, he has worsened over my absence," Ryuusei sighs. "But he will protect you if there is an incident. I already gave him my orders."

"I knew it," Rosetta sidles up to him and tries to observe the view, an attempt to see what he's looking at. The city folks look as small as ants from where she's standing. "You're putting me into storage."

Ryuusei doesn't react. "I am. We've been perhaps a touch too successful in your homeland. Famiglia Gesso and Carcassa are not reacting well to my excursions at Palermo. There's already a hefty sum above your head. They are arrogant, these families. It would be irritating if you die."

"I haven't been in any real danger in Italy," she says, although she sounds a tad unsure.

"Not yet. I have the resources to defend against several retaliations, even an all-out war against the Gesso, but not enough to protect myself and you at the same time. I need every loyal man on the field."

"This is because I can't fight, is it? I should not have listened to my father's words. 'You should not mop the floors if you can pay somebody to do it, you need not to fight if you can pay somebody to hit for you.' Pah."

"It would have been too late to start, regardless. Women are not meant to be fighters. Namimori is our stronghold. I can't waste men on you."

She doesn't comment on his views. She's tried to sway him before, in his better moods, and was terribly punished for it.

"I've heard of this lecture already," she says, "but I'll listen to you. I'll go. But you can't make major decisions without me. You have to call me when something comes up."

Persisting to stay in Italy would be stubbornness. The Gesso is as irritating as they come and the Carcassa is an annoyingly lucky family. Not to mention the ongoing civil war the Vongola is trying to suppress. Too many fixers are out of work as result of the famiglia thinning down ranks, questioning allegiances left and right. She can run and hide all she wants, but the wolf only needs to catch her once.

Ryuusei is staring at her oddly.

"What?"

"I thought you'd make it difficult for me," he admits wearily and as if accusing, he adds: "I prepared bribes."

"Threats," she corrects, absently tracing a finger through a tiny scar on her left hand.

"Bribes," he persists.

"You think I won't listen to reason?" She whispers, sounding betrayed. "That's painful, coming from you. Kusakabe-san! The boss thinks I'm an idiot."

"Not an idiot," Ryuusei massages the bridge of his nose, but he says nothing else. He reaches to a mahogany desk and pulls out a letter from an empty drawer. It's thick, heavy, and sealed with the man's indigo flames. "Give this to my son, please."

Rosetta accepts it, her eyebrows scrunched. "You're not going to meet him? You haven't seen him in a while."

"Everything I wish to say is here," Ryuusei sounds tired.

"Nothing else?"

"Nothing. Be patient to my son, will you? Spend time with him."

"I don't think that is avoidable. We'll be living in the same roof, no?"

Ryuusei sighs. "You underestimate him. He's beginning to be a pain. He should be like his brothers. They're not as hot-headed, nor as foolish."

Rosetta blinks at him, pressing her knuckles on her mouth.

"A rotten lemon from the lemon tree?" she asks cautiously. She doesn't want to make him angry.

The man sighs once more, shaking his head, but he sounds fond. "I'm afraid I was exactly like him when I was his age."

The idea of school is terrifying.

Rosetta is now sitting in her new bedroom. It's a small space with barred windows, reminding her of a cell of all places, albeit it's prettier. The entire mansion is something out of the feudal era, built on ancient wood by men long buried under the foundation. She's not going to trick herself into thinking it's comfortable, but at least she's safe. Namimori's weather is likable too, but she's already dreading the incoming cold.

There is a bed for one, a study desk beside it and a small cabinet that doesn't even fit a fourth of her clothes, which she piles on a miniature sofa by the wall. Hibari Kyoya's bedroom is a floor above hers, no doubt far more luxurious than what she has to put up with.

When night comes, she eats dinner alone on one of the many dining rooms. The kitchen staff had thought of her and made something vaguely western. Something she would have, perhaps appreciated if her stomach isn't churning from nervousness.

"Is Kyoya-san at home?" she asks one of the servants who stopped by to ask if she wanted anything. Rosetta's Japanese is by no means perfect. But it is understandable, despite her odd accent. She needed to learn the language quickly.

The maid tries to grin at her but fails. She looks nervous, with dark hair, too many freckles, and brown eyes.

"Yes, he is."

"Can you lead me to him?" The question should be innocent enough. But the maid gives her a skittish smile. Rosetta takes a stab at the remaining slice of meat on her plate and chews on it thoughtfully.

She opts for something simple. "What's your name?"

"Rita, ma'am."

"Rita, why can't you lead me to him?" Rosetta leans forward tipping the chair off its stability.

Rita sighs, regretting to have dropped by in the first place. But like the mafia, the maids have a convoluted system of hierarchy. Fresh faces are always cast into the unknown. Later, they would hound her for details.

"He doesn't like being disturbed ma'am. He gets angry."

"I'm not unused to angry men," Rosetta's voice sounds pleasant, her smile is even brighter. "What does he do? Does he hurt people? Has he touched the maids?"

"N-no! He doesn't touch… He–" Rita says, mortified. "He is not like that. But he likes to fight."

"A violent man," Rosetta murmurs to herself. That's never a good sign. A reason her father rejected Ryuusei's offer of marriage was that she was supposed to marry another one rumored to be violent as well. An arrangement her mother made that her father swears he held on to honor her memory. Rosetta doesn't think so.

"Has he killed anyone?"

"Not that I know of, ma'am."

"Maimed people to permanent disability?"

"I'm not sure, ma'am."

"What do you think? Has he crippled men for petty reasons?"

The maid eyes her warily. "I think. Yes, ma'am."

"Bring me to him, now." Rosetta stands. Ryuusei's letter is in her jacket.

"But ma'am."

Rosetta frowns as she shuffles out of the dining room, putting on her slippers. Valuable lessons, she remembers as Rita tries to futilely dissuade her from seeking him. Good intentions perhaps, but misplaced.

"The sooner I understand my husband's boundaries, the easier my life would be."

"Oh! Oh!" Rita gasps in surprise before she remembers her place and irons over the large smile on her face. "I knew it. The senior maids and I had a bet."

"A bet?"

"Yes! They were wondering who you were. They said I was a romantic when I told them you must be married to Hibari-san!" And Rita doesn't stop there. The dam has broken.

Rosetta grimaces, gesturing for Rita to move faster. She knows it's rude, but she cuts in when Rita doesn't seem to have plans to stop chattering household secrets. Rita doesn't even know her. What if she's exactly like her husband? She guesses she has met the most agreeable of the household servants, judging by the cold reception of her arrival.

She wants Rita to stay.

"How long have you been working here, Rita?"

"About a week, ma'am."

Rosetta hides a frown. She's correct.

"Are you happy with your job, Rita?"

"Yes, ma'am! Very much."

"Do you want to keep your job, Rita?"

Rita nods.

"Then, please, please stop talking."

She doesn't recognize Kusakabe Tetsuya immediately. Perhaps it is the hair. He didn't have hair like that two years ago. It makes him look older than his father, who is not necessarily the definition of youth either. He is on door duty, a sentry to the balcony, standing as stiff and as motionless as a statue.

"New hairstylist, huh?" Rosetta remarks. She dismissed Rita before Tetsuya could see the poor maid. "I prefer the one from before."

He eyes her impassively. "I prefer this one better," he says.

She gives him an odd look. There is a quip hiding in the back of her throat. Something about a new optometrist, but she kicks it down with a forced smile as she politely requests for him to move.

"No," Tetsuya replies.

"I need to talk to my husband."

"He's indisposed, signora."

"Is he doing anything important?"

Tetsuya looks confused for a second, unused to people questioning him.

"Well? Is he?" She asks, patience thinning. "I have a letter from his father." She takes it out.

"Oh dear. I can take it out of your hands if you want," Tetsuya says, quickly. The sudden shift of his expression jars her enough that he has time to put his hands on the letter before she pulls out of his reach.

"He doesn't read his father's missives, does he?"

"Not so loud signora."

"He doesn't read anything sent to him, does he?" She asks again.

"Answer me," she presses, stifling the blooming disappointment in her chest. Why does she feel disappointed? She expected this. "I've been writing to him for two years and have yet to receive a single reply. The boss seals my letters with his flames." She takes the letter from her pocket and taps at the flame. It emits no heat. A simple burst of volatile indigo against the envelope.

The letter is snatched from her hand abruptly, taken by Kyoya himself, who has deigned to grace them with his presence. He tears the letter in half and discards it on the floor.

Rosetta makes an odd sound as she watches the papers flutter down the floor, similar to how her confidence is doing. She leans down and quickly picks the pieces.

"You never replied to me. Now I understand why," she says this as she stands, her spine straight. Kyoya has grown in the years they've been apart. He is taller and stronger in his build. His hair is a bit longer too, but his face is quite the same, an angry pair of eyes and a semi-permanent frown.

He ignores her. "Rule number one," he says as he walks off. Tetsuya follows after him like an obedient guard dog. "Do not disturb me when I don't want to be disturbed."

They enter a larger darker hallway. Moonlight shines through the large windows like iridescent pillars.

"Is there any time when you wish to be disturbed?" She pockets the letter as she advances to him, trying to keep her expression neutral.

"No," he replies.

"That's a waste. I have orders to spend time with you."

She hears Tetsuya muffle a startled laugh. Bad sign.

"I have orders to see that you do not die under my care. That doesn't mean I have to put up with you."

Rosetta pauses, watching as Kyoya saunters ahead of her, it's good that he can't see her face because pure unadulterated irritation flashes across her features. She's not as good as the adults. But she's trying. Anger and annoyance is a waste of time. She reminds herself that she expects this. She expects him to be a thorn. At least he hasn't tried to hit her yet.

"This is not something we can put a front on. Why are you so adverse to spend time with me? You don't even know me." She follows him, ignoring the way he shoots a glare at her.

He doesn't reply. So she tries harder.

"We have a duty to each–"

He's fast. Incredibly fast. Rosetta doesn't even see the weapon until it's inches by her chin.

"Shut up," Kyoya snarls.

She's irritated that she flinched. She tries to calm her heartbeat as she raises her hands up. If he wanted to hit her, she would be bleeding in the floor by now.

"I have done my responsibility to your father and will continue doing so as the contract dictates. I only ask for a quarter of your time and patience."

"Get out of my sight," Kyoya says, pushing past her this time.

This makes her blood boil. She is used to talking to adults. Ryuusei dismisses her most of the time, but she knows that he still listens to her, even if it's not apparent. Probably. Perhaps. Maybe. If she's loud enough.

Kyoya has grown worse in the two years they haven't seen each other. She has a feeling she can merge all of the assholes in Takenaka's administration and wouldn't come close to Hibari Kyoya.

She blocks him again. Arming herself with what she thinks is a dazzling smile. "You're going to treat your wife like an animal? Am I a dog to you?"

Kyoya pauses, meeting her eyes. "You're used to getting things your way, are you?"

He's still holding his weapons. What they're called, she doesn't know. She tries not to look at them.

"Within reason, I am," she says honestly.

"Change your perspective. You might have gotten it easy with my father. But here, I am the king." He steps forward until their noses are inches away from each other. Rosetta doesn't move, doesn't flinch. There are a thousand questions going through her mind. She'll parse through the archive of her mind before she sleeps. "You will listen to me. You will follow my rules. You will go where I ask you to. If not, I will kill you."

The terrifying part is that he sounds sincere.

Rosetta breathes in. Her brain races for the breaks, but her mouth is faster.

"Not an intelligent move businesswise–"

"You think I care what my father does in Italy?" Kyoya cuts in, taking a step closer. Rosetta takes one back instinctively. "I'm not the heir to his throne. You can drop and die and it will mean nothing to me."

Rosetta raises an eyebrow and raises the other one too for good measure. He didn't hit her then. He wouldn't hit her now. Probably. Perhaps. Maybe. "I'm sure you have genuine reasons to loathe me but your father needs his hold in Italy. The Yakuza will die out if you don't carve your crest internationally."

"I've heard this from him. I don't need to hear this from you," he says it with so much venom that it shocks her to a realization.

She shuts her eyes, losing her patience. "You stubborn mu–"

She shoves her clothes out of her miniature couch, sundresses, and shirts piling like laundry on the floor. Tetsuya sits out of trained politeness, quiet as she tries to put together the torn letter.

"I'm married to a wife-beating madman," she proclaims, and her words fall to indifferent ears.

"Signora, I don't think you should be moving too much. The doctor prescribed rest."

"Never mind that," she waves off his concern, a hand on the bandage above her left eye. Head wounds always bled the worse. She regrets looking for Kyoya without planning. But she doubts much would change even if she did plan her words. The man is a brick wall, a tall one and she only has her hands to climb over it. And if she slips… well. The resident doctor took one look at her, clinging against Tetsuya's arm, bleeding all over her white shirt and merely sighed. This was as a common occurrence as breathing in the household.

"Tetsuya, are you happy that I'm here?" She glances briefly at him, reading the missive.

"Signora?"

"It's a simple question, and stop calling me Signora. We're not in Naples anymore. Rosetta should be fine."

Tetsuya shuffles uncomfortably, looking around her room. He settles into staring at her empty picture frames. "I can't say I am. You've put Hibari-san in a foul mood."

"Thank you for being honest," she says without taking her eyes away from the letter.

"The both of you think I'm here to report to the boss. Like a spy," she says pursing her lips. Tetsuya doesn't budge. "Am I right?"

"Unfortunately, yes."

"You liar," she peers over the papers. To Tetsuya's credit, his expression doesn't change. "You have spies all around you, one more shouldn't bother him. Why is he so angry?"

His lip quirks after she repeats the question for a second time. "It's his nature."

"He was born a narcissist who thinks the world revolves around him?"

"Be careful who you say that to," Tetsuya points out.

Rosetta shakes her head. "Worse has been said about him, by people closer to him I'm sure. It is the truth, but that doesn't make my life easier. The boss expects us to get along like a pair of lovers by the end of the semester. Don't laugh! I'm very serious! I am aware that it's a near impossibility. But I hope we could be friends at least. We're–" She clears her throat, looking away. "One day, we're expected to have children."

The silence that follows is so thick that she considers stuffing her face in her bed to scream.

"May I speak my mind?" Tetsuya asks after he finally pities her.

"Please do."

"Hibari-san may be a difficult person to negotiate with. But he's not entirely unreasonable. Perhaps you could compromise with him. An act I mean, like your marriage."

"Our marriage was not an act," Rosetta mumbles, then her face brightens up. "Oh, you mean the kissing."

"No. It's an act, your marriage, I mean." Tetsuya says, wary. "Can you honestly say that you love him? That he loves you back?"

"Marriage isn't about love. It's a union. A partnership."

Tetsuya shakes his head with a sigh. "It's a union for people who have promised to love and cherish one another. In your case, it's for business. That was a partnership, not a marriage. Can you honestly say that you're partners right now?"

Rosetta bites her lip, a little lost. "You're right," she concedes. "I've been nothing but selfish to him. And I went and demanded his attention even if I didn't deserve it."

Tetsuya looks relieved.

"Is that what you wanted me to say?" Rosetta crosses her arms.

"My father told me about you," Tetsuya groans.

"He warned me about you too. If it makes you feel better. But you are correct. We are married only by name. He doesn't owe me anything aside from protection." She feels a bit bitter saying this. Kyoya has a duty to keep. She kept her end of the bargain, she survived and worked until she fell over. "I cannot fumble my way into his friendship. I was foolish. This is why I need your help."

"What makes you think I'll help you?" Tetsuya raises his eyebrows.

Because I'm not smart enough to thwart the boss from completely buying the loyalties of my family with my presence beside him. She thinks. Because he will no doubt have the remaining Santoro eating out the palm of his hand if he plays his cards right.

"The boss might be shelving me for good. I might stay here indefinitely."

"I don't see why that's my problem."

She snaps her finger. "Pay attention will you? If I stay here for a long time, I will remember that you refused to help me." She slaps his arm. "I will be a pain in your ass."

He eyes her reluctantly. "Wait. If you knew that the boss might keep you here, why agree to stay at all? I think you could have pressured him to stay."

She doubts she can pressure Ryuusei into anything, but she doesn't correct him.

"If I stayed in Italy, I might die or I might live. If I die, then that's a loss for your family. If I live, then I'm just putting off the problems of this marriage, no, arrangement." She pauses, scrunching her eyebrows in thought. She looks at him up and down, like a predator searching for old wounds in its prey. He's doing the same thing too.

She continues. "But I'm weary of my life on the top. I was never meant to be the doña of Santoro. I had six brothers ahead of me. It's tiring. I named myself to be the advisor because I didn't trust the boss's word. I wanted to survive. But that's not enough, I want to live. I want to find my father's killers and I cannot do it as a prisoner of the boss or my husband."

Tetsuya is quiet for a while, unsure of what to say. It sounds like a confession. "You're telling me this because you want me to trust you."

It was the correct thing to say, judging by the smile on her face.

"Can we work together?" She prods.

"Let me think about it."

"So it's a yes, then."

"I said, let me think."

"It's a simple question. Just say yes. You won't be doing yourself any favors by refusing me," she says, annoyed.

"I said I'll fucking think ab–"

"Yes, you have! You're not polite company. You would have left my room if you weren't willing."

Tetsuya purses his lips. She's not good company either.

"I'll help you. But I get to call it quits if you piss me off," Tetsuya says.

Rosetta smiles brightly. "Of course, that is how consent works!"

Talking to Rita and now Tetsuya oddly feels like the most human thing she's done for the last two years. It is her first time talking to somebody who didn't wholly look down on her or somebody who didn't treat her warily. She played pirates with the cook's children when she was younger and played regrettable chess with the gardener's niece who lived in the villa's grounds. It was fun while it lasted, but she always knew that they only did so because of her father, if the awkward silences were any indication.

She learns that her books are under her bed, inside a school-issued bag, along with her supplies. She learns that a school week has already begun, and she's behind schedule in her homework.

The bed is cold. But it's alright. She's safe here, safer than she was in Italy.