A Note to the Readers: *posts chapter and runs away*

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CHAPTER TWO

Namimori's other Criminal Group

"What –what's happening here?" Tetsuya pushes against the panicked crowd of students crammed on the stairwell of the second floor. Knowing Hibari Kyoya, it's a disaster waiting to happen. One of the students from the soccer team looks relieved when they see him.

"The new girl, she's got a gun!"

"What?" Tetsuya asks again. "A gun?"

"It's a school shooting is it?" Another one pipes in. "She pointed a gun at Gokudera-kun and started screaming in Spanish."

"I think it was Italian. Gokudera is Italian isn't he?"

"No. It was Spanish," the girl argues, confident. "You have to do something about it. You're disciplinary committee!"

"Kusakabe-san," calls the English teacher, a widowed woman wearing high heels and a grey dress. "Sawada-kun and Yamamoto-kun are still in the classroom. They–"

There was a gunshot. Deafeningly loud indoors.

Tetsuya curses. "Disperse before Hibari-san finds you!" he yells over the crowd of now screaming students. He runs to the room and slides the door open.

Rosetta points her other gun at him.

"Put the guns down," he says, raising his arms on instinct. Rosetta frowns. She's leaning by the teacher's desk, her right hand pointing a gun at Gokudera who has Sawada Tsunayoshi pinned behind him on a corner of the classroom. The two foreigners are arguing in Italian. Yamamoto Takeshi is almost by the exit. There's a hole on the floor by his feet, where dozens of dynamites are scattered in alarming piles.

"Rosetta-san, please, put the guns down. If Hibari-san finds yo–"

"You said that this school was secure. There's an assassin in the classroom!" She sneers, flushed with panic.

"Who…" Tetsuya glances at Gokudera, who's eyeing him suspiciously. "Gokudera Hayato has been our student for a while. He's–"

Gokudera screams something, most likely an insult, because Rosetta squeezes the trigger, shattering a lightbulb overhead. Tetsuya takes that opportunity to tackle her down. She doesn't fall quietly. The weapons fly out of her grip. Another one misfires, shooting a hole through the pigeonholes in the back of the room. She's cursing him the entire time, shoves her hand against his face and kicks his stomach ruthlessly as Gokudera takes that opportunity to light his dynamites.

Rosetta sees this and shoves him off in a show of surprising strength. "Get off! The table, quick!"

The teacher's desk is a thin metal construction. Tetsuya grabs the lip of it and topples it against their bodies. It cages them and takes the brunt of the explosion. Rosetta doesn't wait for his recovery. She lunges for the abandoned gun, stands and aims it at Gokudera, who is now on the floor, struggling against Yamamoto who's trying to pin him down.

She is disarmed immediately, courtesy of a tonfa slamming against her wrists. It hurts. Her lip curls, jerking her hands close to her chest.

"What are you doing?" Kyoya snarls, shoving her back with his weapon.

Rosetta nearly topples back. She knows she's going to bruise later, her wrists, her hip and the corner of her collarbones. "Gokudera Hayato is an assassin." She hisses, jerking her chin at the Italian who's glowering angrily on the floor. "I had to protect myself."

"You're fucking delusional," Gokudera yells. "You think I'm here to kill you? Fuck you! If I wanted you dead, I would have killed you already! Stupid bitch!"

"You took your weapons out!"

"Well, you fucking showed your face first! Fucking Santoro!"

"Quiet." Kyoya snarls. He looks like he's ready to snap, gripping his weapon so tight his knuckles go white from the strain. She knows that look, seen it in the boss far too many times when an operation went pear shaped.

"You," he snaps at her. Rosetta raises her hands as if in defeat. The dagger concealed on her back digs against her spine. She'll lose if he fights her, but she's going not going down without defiance.

"I thought I made it clear that you were supposed to behave," Kyoya doesn't yell, he doesn't have to.

Behave, she thinks, feeling reprimanded, gritting her teeth. "Behave!" She yells, putting her hands down. "What was I supposed to do? What was I supposed to think? There's an assassin in your classroom! The same classroom I'm supposed to be in!"

"I said I'm not fucking here for you, you–"

"Call me a bitch again and you'll lose your tongue tonight!" she snarls, an empty threat, but it serves to shut the assassin's mouth. She turns to Kyoya, blood running hot, which is a mistake she'd pay for soon. She takes a step forward. "And you don't have the right to half-ass anything. You have an obligation–"

Rosetta wakes up in the school clinic. There's a bandage around her head and the taste of stale blood on her mouth. She runs a dry tongue over her lower lip, feeling a cut where the corner of her mouth is. She's quite angry that it has come to this, but she keeps it down. Anger is useless. She's not supposed to be angry; she's supposed to get even. But this was something that should be handled delicately.

Pros, she thinks. She's alive, she's not crippled, not blinded or incapacitated. She can feel her toes. There is a good possibility that Gokudera Hayato is telling the truth.

Cons, she's married to a wife-beating madman.

Pros, she has something to look forward to. Tonight, she's going to hole up in her room and bitch endlessly on the phone. Give Takenaka a reason to give her a warning before putting her in a class with a working assassin of the famiglia Marchetti, fucking Gokudera Hayato, bastard son of Benigno Marchetti and Gokudera Lavina.

Cons, she's handcuffed to the bed and still married to a wife-beating madman.

Pros, they forgot the habits she picked up traveling with her boss. There's a lock pick on the hem of her uniform.

Cons, she feels the bruises on her ribs. Fucking Tetsuya. She's also still married to a wife-beating madman.

Pros, she has escaped from their pathetic attempt at chaining her down.

Cons, Tetsuya is staring at her.

"Go away," she says, bitter. Wriggling to a sitting position.

"I carried you here," he points out as if she should be grateful.

"And you're still the last person I want to see."

"That stings," Tetsuya says lightly, uncapping the tumbler of water from her pack. She takes it and drinks it slowly. Her throat feels like a desert. When she's done, he takes the container back and dutifully places it back where it belongs.

"I should have married you instead," she says. Tetsuya shakes his head.

"You won't like me as a husband," he replies calmly. "And you shouldn't say these things."

Rosetta frowns. "Why are you being nice to me? What is this? You pity me now?"

Tetsuya cringes. "Not really. You goaded Hibari-san and you–"

"Oh, shut up. You're kissing his ass. This is why he's so rotten. A man like that needs constructive criticism." Rosetta leans forward, reaching her toes. "After you tell me about every potential fixer in Namimori, I need a list of people who has actually survived talking to my husband for more than a minute. I need to talk to them."

"You have to promise me not to goad him like that first," Tetsuya says. "Don't provoke him the next time–"

She blinks. "You're saying it's my fault that I'm in the clinic? What other excuses do you have of his behavior? A tragic backstory?"

"The chairman is the chairman for a good reason. He can't help but to be himself. Much like a tidal wave demolishes a community, the community is not the one to blame. But it wouldn't be wise for them to build their settlements in the same spot, wouldn't they?"

Rosetta is staring at him, her throat clenching. That sounded like something he repeats to himself every night. A mantra. A resignation even. What an absolute liar. She almost wants to hit herself, thinking that she somehow ran away from the boss and his dangerous mood swings. This is another one entirely.

"And the good reason would that be?"

"Peace and order," Tetsuya smiles at her as a teacher would to a student.

"Kyoya-san is a tidal wave, the society is the community dumb enough to build their houses in his path," she repeats, shoulders slumping. But the problem is… Kyoya is not a tidal wave. He is an individual and individuals don't win against the rest of society. It's a matter of simple mathematics. She knows that Tetsuya knows this as well, hidden somewhere beneath that winning expression.

She looks up at Tetsuya's keen smile and deflates further.

"I actually brought someone well-informed to talk to you. He doesn't work for us, so it's an IOU but he promises to tell you everything. I don't want another accident," he says to change the subject.

"There wouldn't have been an accident if you did your job. I asked you for information last night and you assured me that everything was 'taken care of.'"

Tetsuya doesn't apologize. But at least he looked a touch guilty.

"I was ordered not to tell you anything."

"By Kyoya-san?"

"Yes."

"And you followed the dumb order?"

"That's why I took the IOU. I planned for this since last night. I didn't expect you to bring a gun to school." He frowns. "Guns actually, permanently confiscated by the committee."

"Why would he hide this from me?" She groans.

"He's not known to be good at following orders from the boss."

"Ah. The whole father-son animosity." She remembers the letters she patched up last night. Six pages of meaningless jargon about duty and responsibility and a singular sentence stating for him to do his job or else. That was the height of the boss' sense of humor. That was his way of saying that he was fond of the person he was writing to. She rubs her temples in frustration.

"So, this guy you owe, why doesn't he work for us?"

"Because I have a contract with the Vongola, so does Gokudera Hayato," a voice says from the door. "Ciaossu, Hibari-chan."

"Don't call me–" Rosetta is at loss for words now, because the finest wetworks specialist of the underworld walks in.

"Oh dear," she says, wide-eyed. "Oh dear," she says again, grabbing Tetsuya by the sleeve.

"It's a pleasant afternoon is it?" Reborn observes.

"Oh dear. Mister Reborn. I have not had the pleasure to meet you. I'd shake your hand, but..." She trails off, speechless.

"Kusakabe, you can leave now," Reborn tips his hat. Tetsuya stands but Rosetta shakes her head.

"He stays," she says.

"If I wanted to kill you–"

"Yes, I am aware. I would be dead by now. And Tetsuya-san is a weak and an unarmed retainer. He is as harmless as a flounder, are you not?" Rosetta gives him a winning smile.

"Ah, yes. Of course. Harmless as a flounder." Tetsuya smiles back, with more teeth than intended.

Rosetta has a feeling that Reborn is trying to resist rolling his eyes at her. The assassin flings himself atop an unoccupied stool and sits cross-legged. His infamous lizard sits atop his fedora sound asleep. There's coffee in his hand, probably better than all the watered-down sludge in Namimori she's had no choice to drink.

"Hibari-chan, what do you know about Sawada Tsunayoshi?"

Rosetta stabs a piece of tofu from her miso soup. She lifts it up and watches it split in half. She is not really in the mood to eat, rejecting Rita's call for dinner, but the maid brought her food anyway. She's by a terrace, on a comfortable cushion hastily dragged outside by the servants when they saw her sitting on the floor. There's a tea table too, with a fancy tea set, a candle, her cellphone, her dinner and the writing implements she brought from her room.

She's writing a letter to her mother.

Dear mom, she scribbles, pen flying over the page. It takes a certain skill to understand her writing. Of course she was trained when she was young to write in neater script, but the lessons never really stuck, even when they hit her over the knuckles. She remembers Ryuusei striking her hand once with his cane when he read her first report. She always typed her paperwork since.

What to write to a mother you haven't seen in eight years though.

Rosetta writes about the thrill of meeting Reborn for the first time. She writes about this mysterious Sawada Tsunayoshi she probably hasn't met yet. Secret son of the Vongola's consigliere hidden in Namimori under the protection of the Hibari group due to some Byzantine alliance made ten generations ago by the heads of the respective criminal groups, who may or may not be the next Vongola Tenth.

In normal circumstances, she shouldn't be alarmed. But the Vongola is in shambles as of present, prominent names are taking their slices of the ninth's pie now that there's no apparent successor. The Vongola is a sinking ship and the rest of Italy are watching like hungry sharks. If a succession war would occur in Namimori…. No, the boss wouldn't allow that, would he?

Rosetta, having reached a fourth of her paper gives in to baser instincts and decides to bitch about her husband and his retainer. It takes about two carefully worded sentences. She signs it with a flourish and folds the letter properly, pinching the edge as she sends the opposite end on fire.

"What are you doing?"

She yelps. The letter nearly flies off her hand, she tries to catch it but it burns her. It falls, the fire eating hungrily at the blue ink.

"You've been asking me the same questions since this morning," Rosetta raises an eyebrow at her husband who's observing her little stunt.

"And you have yet to give me an adequate response."

"I've –you've…" She leans back, unsure. She didn't expect anyone to be here, especially him. "I wrote a letter to my mom," she says honestly.

"Your mother is still alive?"

She blinks. Kyoya is actually trying to talk to her. Is this a trick to put her guard down? Well, it's not working.

"She's dead. My dad hauled her over the third-floor balcony when I was six. I think she hated us all in the end." Rosetta's mother lay crying in pain for three whole hours on the front steps before she finally drowned. Blood in her lungs. They weren't allowed to help.

"And yet you're writing to her."

"Of course, Kusakabe-san does this as well. I picked it up from him." It's not like she has friends to talk to about her problems, might as well bother her mother in the afterlife.

Kyoya is silent.

"I thought you didn't want me to disturb you. And yet you came here? What are you doing?" She throws the question back, narrowing her eyes. She wanted his company then, but now she's not so sure. She needs some time to think. Think alone.

"My father gave me a phone call about your accident this morning," he looks like he's trying not to hiss. But it's not really working. Something ugly crosses his expression for a second before he carefully smooths it out.

Disappointment nearly crosses her features. Nearly.

"I'm not going to apologize about that if you're here to squeeze one out of me," she says resolutely. Before he could react she adds: "but I am regretful that I didn't trust you enough to bring weapons to school. No guns from now on. What did the boss say?"

"One hour a day."

"An hour? A what?"

"I have orders. We have an obligation to spend an hour a day in each other's company."

She ponders for a while.

"And if I say something you don't like. You'll… what's the term? I heard one your committee men quote it in the hallways, ah, 'bite me to death?'" Whatever the hell that meant.

It's his turn to raise an eyebrow. "You're oddly perceptive."

She huffs, looking away, staring beyond the balustrade. The estate's back garden is ridiculously enormous. Manicured plants as far as the eyes could see until east where the forest constantly battle to reclaim the decorated land. She sees four visible sentries on patrol, moving like cats in the dark.

Kyoya takes this time to settle on her left with the distance of a stranger. This time no overeager maid offers a cushion for him to sit on. Tetsuya is probably guarding the exit.

She pours him tea and gingerly places it in front of him. She pours herself a cup too. The brew is far more fragrant than bitter. She doesn't like it. But maybe he will.

"We don't have to talk an hour a day. That's overkill," she says, pouring herself another. "The boss was probably pulling your leg. We can spend time for an hour today and ignore each other tomorrow and then do the same all over again. Maybe four times a week?"

"Fifty minutes left."

"You really hate me, do you?" She doesn't look at him when she says this, concentrating on her tea instead, on the ink stains around her fingers.

He picks up his cup but doesn't drink. "I have no reason to like you." He manages, and when she stares he says, accusingly: "You chose to marry me."

She pauses, regarding him openly. He looks kinder in the forgiving moonlight. She's used to hearing it from the boss, especially when he pushed her too far when she cried too much. It's her fault. She chose to marry Kyoya. As if a choice between imminent death and a faulty marriage was a difficult one. She is not hurt by that statement anymore.

"What are your honest views about your brothers?" She asks out of nowhere.

"You really want to talk?"

"Yes, I do in fact. You don't need to answer my queries if you don't wish to participate. But if you want me to walk around eggshells, you'll have to give me a clue about what's off limits."

"Is that what you did to my father too?" He sounds mocking.

"Of course, and it didn't work. And then one bad evening I accidentally asked about his wife. He has these weird mood swings and I didn't know how to read him yet. Well… I was hospitalized for a month and was hell-bent on getting even. It wasn't fun for the both of us. You can always follow the boss' methods if you want."

"Two of my brothers are a pair of foolish cowards who think my father's name gives them power over people."

She sighs. He's not going to talk at all.

"I remember them." She says. "Your family visited over when I was nine. Those two were kicking my dog. Poor Marco." Rosetta doesn't know what happened to Marco after the massacre. It was a mongrel dog that snuck in from the streets, flea-bitten and unwashed. But she loved the dog and its patchy spotted coat. "I was planning to hurt them. I wanted revenge. But as I was making convoluted plans, I saw you."

Kyoya is now looking at her, a touch curious.

"You probably don't remember this. As I hid behind a tree, you sped out of the rose garden and attacked the taller one. They scurried off like rats to your father. For a second, I was afraid that you were to finish the job. Marco was bleeding around the mouth. Instead, you dragged Marco by his scruff to the servant's house. I followed you through the bushes and ruined my dress. My father was furious."

"And what was the point of this story?"

She breathes in and musters her confidence. "You said I chose to marry you. Indeed the boss made a proposition, but I knew when I held all the cards that I could have chosen anyone closer to the succession. But I chose you despite what the rumors said because of Marco."

Kyoya stiffened perceptively.

"You're going to call me an idiot, are you?" Rosetta sighs.

"You chose me, because of a dog?"

"I chose you because I didn't want to end up like my mother."

But now she has doubts.

Rosetta damps a tissue with tea and wipes off the remnants of her letter, folding the used up sheet on the table. She does it twice until the floor is clean. There's no need to bother the maids if she can help it.

"Do you regret it?" Kyoya asks. She gives him a strange look. She thought the conversation was over.

"Do I regret marrying you? No. Of course not. I'm alive, am I not?"

"That's not what I asked. Try again."

Rosetta shows her teeth. "Well, that's a question I'd have to answer in the future. Isn't it?"

"Tetsuya told me you said you wished to be my friend."

"I do," she says quickly.

He catches her gaze. They've never really had proper eye contact. Not in their marriage, not yesterday… She finds that his pupils are dark, as dark as his hair, surrounded by sclera that's a bright blue transitioning into gray. Beautiful and cold and angry. She wonders what kind of a man Hibari Kyoya is without his barricades. He's probably like his father.

"Stop trying."

"Oh dear," Rosetta taps her fingers against the table. "This was going well."

They succumb into silence, neither willing to talk until she eventually runs out of patience.

"Why shouldn't I be friends with you?"

"I thought you were good at following orders."

"I am, only if the orders make sense," she says. She's beginning to feel annoyed, but she stifles it. He must have his reasons. Everyone does. The world revolves around reasons, even when some are too convoluted to understand.

He stands up, abandoning his untouched tea. "You're stubborn, like a mule."

She looks up at him. "Persistence is a key trait."

"Not when invested to a fruitless endeavor. Give up. It will make your life easier," he looks down at her.

She can't believe she's arguing this. "Not before I've even started. We're going to be friends, Kyoya-san. I'm going to make sure–" she yelps, sitting back as the tea table topples forward, courtesy of Kyoya's foot.

"Don't call me that."

She bristles, standing up, facing him. Defiance bubbling up. A skewed perception of danger might be the only good thing she's managed to take from Ryuusei's terrible lessons.

"Fine. Your Highness. You said last night that you're the king, so be it." She says with a haughty lift of her chin, brushing her hands against her skirt. "But I'm not your servant. I'm your–" red dusts her cheeks. "I'm your wife. And–" He turns to leave, she speaks louder.

"And we're going to be friends whether you like it or not!"

Kyoya shuts the door with an infuriating slam.