A Note to the Readers: I always feel like I get exhausted when I reach the 4,000 word mark when I write. Well.

Thank you so much for EthaGrinndt for my first ever review! I had a heart attack when I saw that. I'm also pretty happy with how the story is going! Thank you so much for saying that the grammar is good. XD English is not my mother tongue. Thank you for Rose as well. My first Anon reviewer. Hahaha.

I've pretty much fleshed out the plot for this, because there is going to be plot. Rosetta isn't just going to hang around uselessly as things go on. She's also not going to butcher canon to her will.

I hope you like this one!

CHAPTER THREE

Daily Life

It took two entire weeks for Rosetta to get used to her school routine. Thirteen days to convince her classmates she's not a terrorist. Eleven days to understand the value of studying the sciences. Nine days to comprehend mathematics. Eight days to gain Tetsuya's begrudging trust. Six days to have permanent lunch buddies. Four days for the history teacher to dislike her. And one hour to decide that she's avoiding Sawada Tsunayoshi and his gang of clowns for the rest of her life.

The school canteen is spacious, hosting six seater wooden tables with matching flimsy chairs, spaced apart and able to fit the whole school's population without it looking too crowded. On the exits she sees pairs of disciplinary committee members. Some aren't even from the school. Tetsuya informed her that they thickened security. They pulled out unhappy Yakuza from other organizations Kyoya has his fingers on.

"So," Hana Kurokawa whispers, tapping her chopsticks by her food tray. "You're really married to Hibari Kyoya?"

Rosetta bites the straw of her milk carton. She hasn't had milk in a long time.

"Yeah. Pretty much."

Kyoko, bless her, puts her hands together and smiles.

The girl was the one who approached her on her second day. The rest of her class, having good sense gave her a wide berth. Rosetta accepted her invitation for lunch and she stuck ever since.

Kyoko is a simple creature. Her personality is easily understood. Like a character from a soap opera. Kyoko is a kind, loving, albeit a little naïve girl who had the looks and the disposition of an angel. She'd likely end up with an equally charming salary man. Buy a house at a friendly suburb and raise two kids.

Hana on the other hand, narrows her eyes. She's quite the opposite of her best friend, dark hair, dark eyes and a pessimistic outlook on life.

"I've heard rumors. But isn't it illegal?"

"Our parents made a deal and we married early on."

"That young?"

Rosetta pauses and feigns shock. "Kyoya-san told me it's normal in the east. I was a foolish little Italian girl, far too in love to realize she's been roped in into a–"

"Stop it! Stop it! That accent is atrocious!" Hana says.

"Well, it is the truth."

"You're not even wearing a ring." Hana points out.

They didn't have wedding rings. The tradition flew over their heads. She remembers the priest's confusion.

"Wearing gold in school is asking it to be stolen."

"But we've only heard of you now. The other girls are heartbroken. I'd wish they'd stop bitching to me and actually grow some balls to talk to you." Hana scowls.

Rosetta chokes on her milk. "Girls actually like him?"

Kyoko laughs, covering her perfectly shaped lips with a flawlessly manicured hand. "He has a fan club. Girls dig bad boys."

Hibari Kyoya is not a bad boy, he is evil. So far, she had no progress whatsoever in her attempts to befriend him. The boss would be disappointed if he caught wind of it. She's disappointed at herself too. Day after day, she'd find more and more about the man she married. A purveyor of red flags she should call herself.

"Whatever. I'm still curious how it happened," Hana presses on. Rosetta opens her mouth to speak, but is cut off. "No, don't try and redirect the conversation," Hana warns, but she's smiling.

Hana takes her tray places it atop Rosetta's, leaning forward so she can whisper properly. "You're not royalty. I checked the internet. You're not some kind of a rich CEO's daughter either. You're mafia, are you? I saw police reports. You're part of some Sicilian group, aren't you?"

Rosetta leans in conspiratorially, eyebrows raised in an exaggerated manner, her bad accent coming back. "Oh yes. And now I'm the right hand man of Kyoya-san's father. I'm in Namimori because I'm hiding from the other clans who want me dead."

There's a second of silence before they burst out laughing.

"Holy shit," Hana says, wiping a tear. "That's fucked up. But imagine what it would be like to be real mafia. I heard they're rich as all hell."

"Like celebrity rich?" Rosetta inquires.

"Nah, like billionaire rich."

"I can't even comprehend having that much money," she lies.

"If I'm part of a real mafia group," Hana states. "I'd show Sawada Tsunayoshi what it's like to be genuine Mafioso. I'm sick and tired of their roleplaying. Vongola this, Vongola that. They watch some crime documentary and they think it's okay to pretend to be a bunch of criminals. You've noticed, have you? Those freaks."

"They're not exactly silent about it."

"Yeah well, it's annoying," Hana continues. Kyoko is completely silent during the conversation, which isn't strange. "I'd get Sawada off Kyoko's back too, if I could."

Rosetta doesn't think Hana needs to be mafia to drag Tsuna away from Kyoko, but she opts not to say anything aside from: "Poor Sawada. He's the school's laughingstock."

"He's not that bad," Kyoko says, quiet as she pokes the gelatin on her plate. "He's quite gentlemanly."

"Yeah, after you wash off nine hundred layers of stupid." Hana snorts.

Poor Sawada indeed, to carry the burden of wielding the ever rare and enigmatic sky flame. She's seen athletes, movie stars and congressmen unknowingly wield the sky flame –their cloaked advantage. That unexplained charisma. Wielders are said to be destined for greater things. People look at Sawada and see disappointment through their unknowingly biased eyes. He's an oddly unique case, the only sky flame wielder she's seen to utterly fail at being one. Perhaps he deserves the name. Perhaps not.

She's glad she isn't one.

"I need to go now," Rosetta says, tucking her bento into her backpack.

"Oh, where to?" Kyoko asks.

"Reception room. Made Kyoya-san a bento."

"How romantic!" Kyoko swoons. "Can I come?"

"You want to come?" Hana says, disbelieving. "You want to enter that deathtrap? He's going to kill you for fucking crowding."

"Don't worry. I'll come back soon," Rosetta promises, hauling her backpack up. A committee man from the main exit straightens before he takes off to follow her through the hallways. She's required to travel with a security detail now. At least one of Tetsuya's handpicked lackeys should be around her at all times. It's an unexpected nuisance, especially in the classroom. The others think it's Kyoya's protective streak. She doesn't correct that.

The committee man, Fusanosuke, knocks the reception room's ominous black door for Rosetta. He opens it as she enters and closes it and waits outside. He opens it once more when he hears her footsteps approaching and is about to close it when Rosetta yanks the knob from his hand and slams it on her own.

Bang!

"He threw it away after one look," Rosetta comments to him. She balls her fists. He's learned over the week to discern whether she wants a response or not. This time, saying anything would be lining himself for a verbal beat down.

"One, damn look," she sighs, face flushing, running a bandaged hand through her bangs. "He didn't even look me in the eye."

Fusanosuke follows her as she makes a sullen trudge to the classroom. She peeks through the door, sees the clown show of the Vongola and doesn't deign to spend time in the noise. Rosetta climbs the stairs and transfers buildings until she ends up at the library. Fusanosuke cases the area. When done, he positions himself somewhere unobtrusive, until Rosetta calls him with her fingers, asking him to sit.

"Are you married?" She asks.

"No, Hibari-san."

Rosetta's lip curls at his name usage, but he follows his orders to the smallest detail.

"Girlfriend?"

"Boyfriend. We've been dating for three years," he replies, unsure. He might lose his job if she doesn't like what he says.

"How did you court him? Flowers? Showers of affection?"

Fusanosuke looks mildly embarrassed. "We met each other at a special club and hit it off."

Rosetta sucks in an annoyed breath, groaning.

"You lucky bastard."

"Trouble in paradise?" A voice says behind her.

Fusanosuke stiffens, standing up so quickly that the chair topples behind them. The library erupts in shallow whispers, quieted by the sharp hush of the head librarian. Rosetta forces a smile. It is always good to pretend that one is at good terms with other Mafioso, no matter how irritating they are.

"Fusanosuke. Next time, some subtlety please," she admonishes him, twisting to face Gokudera Hayato. He is leaning against a table.

On her right, she feels and hears a palpable swoon from a group of women. Gokudera may have the looks of an angel, but his disposition is the opposite.

"Reborn wants to fucking see you," he says in Italian. The girls swoon once more.

The urge to say yes is strong, it's Reborn, but she easily overcomes it. "What for?"

"Don't fucking know. And you, stop acting like I'm gonna screw her over," he tells Fusanosuke who puts his hand on his holster.

"You know Italian, Fusanosuke?" She asks.

"No, Hibari-san." He pauses afterward and says, "Permission to shoot him?"

She bites back a grin. "Better not dip your pinkie where it's unwanted." She turns back to Gokudera, who looks annoyed. "If Reborn wants to see me, he can do so after class. I'm studying."

"You're doing nothing!"

"Shhh," the librarian's face is red from the strain.

"Fucking hag," Gokudera rolls his eyes. "This is fucking important."

"To you or to me?" She asks.

"To you of course," he says, irritable. "Your pride will be your downfall, Santoro."

"It's Hibari, I'm married" she corrects, running a hand through her hair. "And it's a no, go away Gokudera-san."

Gokudera flushes, gritting his teeth. "Your loss, bitch." He leaves, slamming the Library door. The Librarian chases after him, her kitten heels tapping angrily at the tiled floor.

Rosetta sticks her forehead to the tabletop, tapping her fingers against the table. Gingerly, Fusanosuke props his chair up and sits once more, eyeing her nervously every minute or two.

"What? Just say it."

"Sorry, Hibari-san. It's just… they're Vongola. They're big and you just…"

"You think it's dumb that I'm not kissing ass?"

He purses his lips, wondering if he should speak.

"Go on," Rosetta urges.

"Well, frankly, if I may put it, yes."

She frowns, counting to ten.

"The Vongola then was as imposing, as powerful and as unreachable as the sun. Now, the Vongola is burning under its own weight. I don't want to be seen near them."

"That hurts." A new voice pipes in. The chair beside Rosetta screeches back before Reborn hops atop it. Leon is ever present, a stark contrast to his dark fedora. Fusanosuke reaches for his gun, but Rosetta shakes her head.

"The truth often does," she whispers, leaning to him for privacy.

Reborn's eyes are glinting. "Spend some time with my ward."

"No."

"You won't do it for free."

"An IOU from the world's greatest hitman?" She says, feigning disinterest.

"More than that."

"What could I possibly want that–"

"Names of the Santoro killers."

Her easy smile falls. She taps the table with her fingers, observing him with a strange lizard-like stillness.

"You don't have them," she says, sounding bored, but her face reddens modestly, something a hitman wouldn't fail to notice. "Don't insult me."

"Right now you have your limbs cut off," he counters as she tries to leave. "I am your only chance for justice."

She pauses and sits back.

"I want revenge, not justice."

Something complicated crosses through Reborn's features. "Then revenge it is."

"Oh please, you're a hitman. You're not an investigator. The police were clueless. Hibari-san's people didn't have a damn lead and they scoured the damn place. Every contact, everything died that day." She taps the table for emphasis. "You have nothing."

"Ryuusei's contacts aren't my contacts. And many people owe me. It will be a long but a simple process of elimination."

Rosetta remembers her father holding her up in the sunshine. The painful crack of his belt when she lied to him the first time. She remembers her brothers, arrogant and raucous. Her servant friends. That damn mutt. She thinks of home and how the memories are no longer pleasant. She sees Fusanosuke staring at her, his brows furrowed. Concern radiates out of his posture like waves.

"Others have promised me the same thing and I've sent them away."

They're quiet as the library allows. The clock ticks above them like a countdown.

"But you have a reputation, a good one, unlike them." She says. It's not like she has plenty to choose from. The prospect of giving light to the murders has dimmed over the years. Perhaps, at the end of the day, Reborn might be of some help, no matter how small.

"What do you want me to do?" She asks.

"I want every advantage for Sawada Tsunayoshi. Every ally."

"I am his ally. I haven't exposed his existence to his opponents, have I not?"

Reborn's lip quirks but he shakes his head.

"I want you to be his teacher too."

Rosetta blinks, swallows. "A teacher? Me?"

"What is the mafia to you?"

"A family business."

"What do you think is the mafia to him?"

She tilts her head, thinking back. "A circus with you as the ringmaster. Oh, you mean to say is. Oh dear… I see. But that's not an equal exchange."

"It's not."

She shoots him an expectant look.

"You have your secrets, I have mine," he says with his eyes twinkling. It's easy to move on when he knows she won't pursue it. Not today at least.

"Only teach him. Nothing else?"

"Nothing. Everything else will be your charity."

Rosetta doesn't even pretend to think this through. She suspects that even Reborn tires of games. She clears her throat and concentrates. She's seen Sawada running around in his boxers, his head on fire twice this week. Nobody seems to comment on the flames. Clearly, most of Namimori are civilians. Those who aren't flame actives can't see flames after all.

She extends her right hand under the table, engulfed in a light shade of indigo. Reborn gives her a tired look and shakes. In his tiny palm a bud of yellow. The flames join in a murky shade of brown and gray and disappear with a small hiss.

"Did you hear that?" Fusanosuke is on alert, hand on his holster once more.

"It's nothing." She shakes off the odd crawly feeling under her skin. "Let's go back to class, Fusanosuke."

Tetsuya doesn't exactly sleep on a normal schedule. He can go on days without rest. At first he thought he was alone, but his father eventually found out and told him with a twinkle in his eye that it runs in their family. Something about sunshine in their blood. He doesn't mind the anomaly. He's far more efficient like this. He's not worried about his health either. Most of his uncles have lived beyond eighty years of age.

He leaves the study with a binder tucked under his arm. A new delinquent group from Osaka ventured into Namimori this afternoon, searching for greener pastures. His boss will want to convert them as fast as he's able. Tomorrow evening perhaps.

He ambles outside for fresh air, nodding at his fellow retainers who greet him enthusiastically. It's around four in the morning. The guards have changed shifts. Speaking of which, he needs to update their schedule. He can't have the men relaxing to a routine.

There is an arch of morning glories behind the house. He bends under it and keys in through the service entrance. There's a small cavernous hall where they stock most of their food, leading to the kitchen.

He pauses.

The kitchen lights are open.

Normally the servants would start preparing breakfast at dawn. It's still dark outside.

He puts a hand on his revolver and moves to the light, keeping his back on the wall.

He hears his father's voice, screaming in Italian.

"What kind of a woman doesn't know how to cook?"

"The kind who had servants, Kusakabe-san." Rosetta hisses sharply at her phone. "You can either help me or I'll wake Noya-san and ask her to help me instead."

His father groans. "She complained about you, used the word pathetic generously."

Tetsuya peeks over the door. Rosetta is by the stove, frying something fragrant. He sees a few implements on the countertop. There's a chopping board loaded with vegetables, bowls and a paring knife among others.

"You're the pathetic one!" She trills, having nothing else to say. "You're the one hiring childhood friends for chefs! That's why she screams at you, because she thinks you're buddies. Business should be impersonal!"

"The boss likes her Oyakodon. He's a picky eater!"

Tetsuya hears a click. The cold nozzle of a gun presses against his temple.

"Fusanosuke," he says, raising his unoccupied arm. "It's me."

"Oh." Fusanosuke blinks. He looks exhausted. "Good morning, Kusakabe-san."

"Good morning, is she–" Tetsuya peeks over the door again. Rosetta is comically wrangling her flip phone, screaming profanities at another language. "Why is she here?"

"Cooking. She's always here, boss." Fusanosuke whispers. "I don't think it's a good idea to be here though, for you, I mean. She's a bit, high-strung when and after cooking. It's not her niche."

"Is that why you're hiding here?"

"Pretty much. Did you come here for coffee?"

"Yeah. It's going to be a long day."

"The guards usually stop by too. The servants put up some flasks at the reception area, main entrance. There should be some left for you. Milk is usually gone by now though."

Tetsuya smiles wryly.

"Thanks."

Tetsuya is wrong about the conversion. Kyoya wanted to dispatch the team by mid-morning. He's in the reception room at the present. A handful of men are sitting by groups of two to cut crowding, huddled around stacks of colored prints.

"The Takanashi group is quickly rising in rank among the local gangs. So far, they've evaded police in their drug operations. Hibari-san suspects that they're here to root a new bunker near Kokuyo."

"This place is nothing but forestry," Enomoto says. He's seated by the couch, a large man, transferred from a nearby public school.

"That is exactly why they chose that spot to begin with. We estimate around forty fighters. Most are defectors from larger Yakuza. Four are ex-convicts, two are parole runaways. We even have several who are currently wanted by the local police."

"Shit, that's tough," whispers one of the new recruits.

"Shh, don't let Hibari-san hear you."

"This is nothing compared to the operation last Christmas."

"Three of you are coming with the boss and I. Higashi, Enomoto, Fujioka." Tetsuya closes his binder.

"There are five of us, versus forty," Higashi stands up. "When I signed up for this, I didn't think we'd run after perps like the fucking police."

"Higashi, be quiet." Enomoto tugs the man down by his sleeve.

"Don't touch me!" Higashi snaps, stumbling forward. "I'm not going to fight–"

Tetsuya rams his fist against Higashi's jaw. The man falls. He tumbles over the tea table, breaking an ashtray. Nobody helps. Now disoriented, he crawls back up and clenches his fists, assuming a boxing stance.

"The disciplinary committee is a privilege that can be taken from you. This is your final warning," Tetsuya says soberly.

"My old team didn't fuck with other clans trying to make money for themselves." There's blood on the man's mouth. "We didn't– "

The second blow breaks Higashi's jaw. He tumbles again, keening in pain. Tetsuya pulls tissue out of Kyoya's table and wipes his knuckles clean. "Get rid of him," he orders one of the older subordinates who immediately haul Higashi up by the arms. "Like I said–" Tetsuya fixes his tie. "–three of you will come with us, Enomoto, Fujioka, Sakamoto, to the rooftop. Now."

"Is that blood on your clothes?" Rosetta asks as she spots Tetsuya on the hallway. He sighs, normally students are too intimidated to ask.

"It's not mine."

"Evidently," Rosetta sniffs, trying not to look at his limp.

The retainer behind her salutes impeccably. He's new. Tetsuya doesn't remember the man's name, which irritates him, but he's seen him around the house often enough. He nods to the both of them. There's paperwork to be done. The Takanashi operation was a success. Most of the criminals are in police custody. Kyoya wishes to covert six of them to his fold, which is plenty considering the attitude of his boss. Fujioka and Sakamoto are in the hospital. Broken bones. But Kyoya hasn't said anything yet, which might be a good sign.

The six lucky ones are hogtied in one of the Hibari's safe houses, to be interviewed later. He needs his tools for that, requiring a trip back home. Then he needs to finish his homework.

"Where's Fusanosuke?"

"He's asleep," Rosetta is rummaging through her backpack, taking out her books, digging for something at the bottom. Tetsuya waits.

Eventually, she pulls out a bento.

"Can you give this to Kyoya-san? I stopped by this lunch. Nobody was there."

He accepts the meal with two hands. It's around one in the afternoon. She's likely on her way to P.E.

"Sure."

Later, he places the bento on Kyoya's desk. The boss is filing out police forms.

"What is that?" Kyoya pauses mid-sentence.

"Food from Roset–"

"I already ate. Throw it out."

Tetsuya knows the boss hasn't eaten yet.

"But boss–"

He is silenced with a look. Tetsuya picks up the meal with a heavy heart and throws it on the paper bin, including the box. That evening, before he locks the reception room, he unearths it from the trash and brings it to the park, feeding Rosetta's hard work to the local strays.

When Tsuna comes home he is greeted by the sight of Rosetta sitting idly in his living room floor. She's picking through a bowl of cherry tomatoes, watching television with his mother who is peeling garlic in a ceramic bowl. There are a few handwritten notes on the table with a couple of stacked folders. I-pin and Lambo are beside Nana, filling a few coloring books Rosetta brought by her visit.

"H-Hibari-san?" Tsuna questions nervously as he replaces his shoes with slippers. His body hurts all over.

"She's here to tutor you, Tsuna." Reborn stretches beside him, tired after a day of sniping his student with rubber bullets.

"Tutor? I th-thought you were– you were my tutor!"

"Different subjects mean different teachers." Rosetta appears beside him, folders and notes tucked in her arm. Her voice is low. "Good evening, Sawada-san."

"G-good eveen- uh. I mean, e-ee-vening. G-good evening, Hibari-san."

Rosetta stares. She chances a glance at Reborn who is shaking his head.

"Oh dear," she says. How he's survived this long under Reborn's tutelage, she'll find out soon enough. She puts a hand between Sawada's shoulders, guiding him up the stairs. He reluctantly follows, taking two steps up. "We're going to his room!" She announces to Nana, who tells her that dinner will be ready in an hour.

Rosetta pauses, waiting for a beat. "Fusanosuke!"

Fusanosuke exits the bathroom near the stairs, wiping his hands on his pants.

"I'm here! Sorry, I had to figure out how the flush worked." Fusanosuke pauses, raising his brows as he takes in Tsuna's increasingly pale and terrified form.

"D-d-disciplinary committee!"

"He's with me," Rosetta pushes him up, but Tsuna remains immobile, petrified. This is Iemitsu's son? She's seen sardines with more backbone. Reborn is already on the second floor, yearning for a warm bath.

She pinches the bridge of her nose.

"Sawada-san. If you don't move, I'll ask him to carry you."

"I-I can walk myself!"

She eyes him suspiciously, crossing her arms. "So? Move."

"I –uh just need to get the feeling back in my legs."

"Fusanosuke, haul him up."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Hieeeeeeeeeeeeee!"

A Note to the Readers: Until next time! Drop a comment if you have suggestions or things you might want to see. I'll try and incorporate what I can.