A Note to the Readers: *sweats profusely as I type this* (;ﾟ;Д;ﾟ；;)

Well. I know I said Mukuro arc but things happened. I guess I shouldn't rush into it so soon. Mukuro will appear in the next chapter in his glorious terrifying self. In the meantime I give you all... this! Someone asked me in private messaging what Rosetta looks like or if my cover photo conveys her looks. I don't really know, I guess. To be honest, you can imagine her however you wish. A character's looks never really mattered that much to me.

I thank EthaGrinndt and Devil'sblade for your continued support. I thank Mitsu21 and Marie Yoshina for your invaluable outputs. For all you anons who commented below, thank you as well. It's always a pleasant surprise to see that some of you take this well. It boosts my confidence and it makes my schooldays less horrible.

To my new followers, welcome to my express train!

Happy reading!

CHAPTER SIX

Naive Dreamers

"Any luck on our recent project?" Rosetta asks, slipping into Italian without looking up from her homework. They're at one of the school's open grounds, crammed on one of the long metal seats partly warmed by the afternoon sun. Kyoko is beside her, needling embroidery clamped between a brass hoop. She's been working on a blue hued fish since last week. Hana is on the field, practicing archery.

Tetsuya sits beside her, legs wide apart. She elbows him when he gets too close, forcing him out of the small patch of shade they're occupying.

"None," he grunts. "Hibari-san threw it again."

"I wasn't asking about that," she puts her pen down. "You make me sound desperate. I was asking about Byakuran."

"He's still in hiding," at least Tetsuya sounds sorry. His fingers fidget against his knees.

"I think," he intones. "I have a suggestion for tomorrow's dish."

Tetsuya, to her surprise, began helping her in the mornings, in exchange for his share of food of course. It was fun the first night, but he turned out to be a nuisance after he asked her for the fourth time what a garlic press was. She's been trying to shake him off, but he has been persistent. Tomorrow will be his fifth day.

"What?" She asks.

"Hamburger steak."

Rosetta scoffs. "Hamburger steak isn't real steak. It's an insult to–" she sees his pointed expression. "Oh–"

"Do you think I should make his eyes blue, or brown?" Kyoko asks, lifting her work to Rosetta who blinks owlishly before she takes it for inspection. She didn't understand the point of embroidery until she saw Kyoko's extremely detailed handiwork. It was a humbling experience.

"Why a fish?" Tetsuya takes the pattern from her hand, flipping back to Japanese to Rosetta's relief. His is a family of atrocious accents.

"Surely there are better animals," he presses.

Rosetta snatches Kyoko's work from his thick fingers. "Keep your opinions to yourself," she says sourly. "If Sasagawa-san wants to settle for a Tuna then she will. Brown eyes will look better."

She must have said something wrong because Kyoko sputters, her face red, nimbly shoving her work into her handbag.

"Now you've embarrassed her," Tetsuya sighs, standing up. He nods at Fusanosuke who returns to his position behind Rosetta.

"Have I?" Rosetta raises an eyebrow, trying to look at Kyoko's face through her fingers which are now covering her face. "Did I embarrass you?"

Kyoko squeals, shaking her head. It's ridiculously cute.

Rosetta narrows her eyes. "What was the point of you coming here?" She asks Tetsuya who glances behind the seats. She follows his gaze and finds Tsuna talking animatedly to a blonde foreigner. She feels a flare of discomfort just looking at the man's green and black coat, it's hot today.

"That's Dino Chiavarone," Tetsuya says. "He's not a problem to us. He wanted to meet you."

"I know who he is," Rosetta frowns. Who doesn't know who Dino Chiavarone is? He's a rising star, enabled sheer impossibilities that nearly cost her father half of their drug pipelines when he shook hands with the local police and took over Italy like a disease. People at the top of the pile used to operating in their closed systems stood no chance against his innovative ideas. There is no other Don that she truly dislikes –she will never admit her grudging admiration.

"Why didn't you tell me beforehand that he's coming?" She cracks a smile.

"I received the missive this morning."

"Yeah," she says, squeezing irritation out of her voice, "and cell phones exist for a reason." She stretches, straightening her uniform. "Sasagawa-san, excuse me for a moment."

Grass crunches under her shoes as she meets the pair, ignoring odd glances from other passing students.

"Ah, Hibari-san. This is Dino-san, he's mafia, just like you," Tsuna says, grinning.

Rosetta gives him a look. "Sawada-san, good afternoon." And to Dino she nods, polite, trying not to overdo it. "I don't believe we've met."

"We have," Dino says. His Japanese is better than hers, he almost sounds native. He kisses her hand, keeping eye-contact. He is handsome in how men wished they were, dimpled smiles and flawless teeth. You'd feel sorry for him if you didn't think hard enough, to be born in the mafia with his kind eyes and his leonine heart. So much wool one might even forget the wolf inside.

"I would have not forgotten a face like yours." Her smile remains. Dino doesn't let go of her hand.

"Ah, you were young then and too busy observing your betrothed." He explains. His voice sounds polite. She looks over his shoulders and sees Dino's retainer observing her the way Takenaka does to potential enemies.

She pauses, confused.

"You've met the other Hibari-san?" Tsuna shoots the question to Dino.

Then it clicks. Rosetta breathes from her nose, putting a hand on Tsuna's shoulder. The memory knocks like an unwanted visitor. She keeps her jaw shut to stop herself from saying something she'll regret later on.

"A misunderstanding perhaps," Dino scratches his head innocently. "She was seven then." He says. "You were supposed to marry Xanxus, weren't you?"

"Yes," she breathes out, hands smoothing her skirt. Vaguely, she hears Hana's voice from afar, a cheer, perhaps she's finally split the arrow as she wanted. Rosetta says nothing else.

"Xanxus? Who's that?"

Rosetta laughs genuinely, squeezing Tsuna's shoulder. "He's mafia, just like me."

"Ah, don't," Tetsuya snatches the fillet from her hands. "It's impossible to hand feed Katashi, he nearly bit my fingers."

Rosetta stands up from the press of the dogs' furry bodies. Her uniform is ruined with dog hair. "Katashi? You name the strays?"

"Of course," Tetsuya says, a bag of dog food in hand. The dogs send him eager looks, circling each other with their tongues out and their wagging tails. "That's Nemu, the small one is Haruto–"

"I feel bad for Byakuran. Poor bastard. Poor chap," she blurts out, observing him. "He's forced into this life, you know."

Tetsuya stills, observing her, gaze boring into her head. She's doing the same thing. "He tried to kill us," he points out.

She sniffs, breaking eye contact. "I was just checking, maybe you grew a heart."

Tetsuya rolls his eyes.

The sun is not quite low over the snarl of the park's trees. She estimates about an hour of daylight. The park should be crowded with children now, but the adjoining playground is deserted. She counts around fifteen bodyguards stationed strategically around the area.

Kyoko sneezes from beside her.

"Ah, sorry," she smiles, "dog allergies."

"You didn't have to come," Rosetta wipes her hands with a towel given by Tetsuya.

Kyoko shakes her head. "No, I wanted to. I was curious about the dogs." She says to Tetsuya's visible delight. Behind his outline, they can see the outline of Tsuna's sagged shoulders. The boy is sitting on one of the stone benches, talking animatedly to his mother who misses him dearly. Reborn is missing, ostensibly annoyed when he takes a phone call he cannot deny. He's working on Fuuta's case. Rosetta will give him time away from Tsuna if she can.

"Tetsuya-san could have given you pictures," Rosetta says, sweeping her eyes over to the clutch of wriggling tails. "I'm sure he has pictures."

"Yes," Kyoko says, polite. "I–" and then she blushes.

Rosetta stares.

She drags Kyoko out of Tetsuya's earshot and hisses. "What is this? Do you like Tetsuya-san?"

"No!"

"Good." Rosetta straightens, frowning. "He's pretty much Kyoya-san's mistress."

"Mistress!" Kyoko's eyes are as wide as saucers.

"Shuh, I'm still missing something aren't I?"

"I will not say," Kyoko says, pressing her lips against the back of her fist. "It's my secret."

"As long as you're enjoying yourself," Rosetta concedes, still wary. Her expression darkens when the dogs jump around, begging for affection Tetsuya gives without a second thought. Visiting the dogs is oddly relaxing, but eventually, Rosetta remembers her own Marco and watching feels like a chore. She knows she can bring them home but doesn't want to replace Marco. Not just yet.

"Is that your bento?" Kyoko asks in horror.

"Oh, yeah. Kyoya-san has refined tastes. He doesn't eat my lunch."

"That's horrible."

They watch as Tetsuya throws choice pieces of steak to the animals.

Rosetta shrugs. "It's fine. He could have done worse."

But Kyoko doesn't let it go, she stares at her friend openly disbelieving, lips turned into a fine pout. Rosetta briefly wonders what it feels like to be the epitome of feminine beauty when Kyoko says:

"Don't lie to me, Hibari-chan–"

And that's it, isn't it? Rosetta's easy smile falls. She clenches her fists, presses her knuckles against her forehead. She hates hearing that phrase. 'Don't lie to me!' Hell. Ryuusei's face swims in her vision. Fusanosuke's hand is on her shoulder, saying something she doesn't hear. Her skin prickles. Idiopathic pain blooms in her diaphragm, her throat, her jawline. She pushes him off with a pinched expression. "Don't touch me."

"Ma'am, are you okay?" Fusanosuke's voice is filled with concern.

"I'm fine. What? Do I look like someone about to keel over?" She challenges, keeping eye contact, Fusanosuke is the first to look away. She's breathing hard when she looks over to Kyoko. The girl looks confused. Rosetta looks beyond her. Tetsuya's back is on them, so he doesn't notice. Good. She doesn't want to deal with him, not right now.

"To be candid, you were," Fusanosuke says, but he doesn't touch her.

"I said I'm fine," Rosetta says again, there's not a hitch in her voice now. A mask of professionalism settles. "Leave us, will you? You damn mother-hen."

Fusanosuke nods, but he's frowning. He probably has questions. She wishes he's smart enough not to ask.

"I'm sorry," Kyoko says.

"Don't be sorry if you don't know what you're apologizing for." Rosetta frowns, sobering up. Something bitter makes its way up her throat. Disgusting. She swallows. They shouldn't have brought Kyoko along. She's a civilian. What if something happens? What if there's an ambush? She can't just conjure another gun and ask the girl to arm herself. At least Nana is somehow connected to the Vongola.

"All right, but I can make it up to you," Kyoko continues brightly, clutching her hands together.

Rosetta frowns again.

"If you keep on doing that, your frown will stick to your face."

She bares her teeth to Kyoko's annoyance.

"Oh, come on," Kyoko grins. "I know a few traditional recipes. Maybe if we try one of mine, Hibari-san might try your lunches." Kyoko swallows when she sees the look on Rosetta's face. "I mean, my brother doesn't even leave leftovers," she finishes lamely.

Something flares in her chest. Rosetta recognizes it as the purest form of petty rivalry and barrels on. "My cooking," she starts, wide-eyed, turning to Kyoko without blinking, "is fantastic." It comes out as an irritated hiss. "If Kyoya-san will eat his bento, it will be with one of my recipes."

"You're making bento for your husband?" Nana says as she approaches them, her slippers making prints in the sand. She seems to have overheard their conversation. Great. Awesome. "How cute!"

Tsuna is following behind, looking down when Kyoko catches his eyes.

"Yes, we just finished talking about it." Rosetta crosses her arms.

"No, you haven't," Tetsuya butts to her surprise. "Sawada-san, do you know how to make hamburger steak?"

They end up in an average sized local supermarket because according to Kusakabe, it's easier to secure than the wet market. They're an odd bunch, led around by Tsuna's mother who's politely trying to dissuade Kyoko from a brand of breadcrumbs the girl particularly liked. They've been touring around the grocery's aisles, comparing brands and prices for nearly half an hour. They fill the cart with a mess of items. During the first few minutes, Rosetta peels an odd-looking orange out of curiosity, forcing them to take the entire pack. Tsuna dents a few canned vegetables and breaks a few eggs, which ends up in the cart too. She smiles at first, having fun, but after a while she bleeds into the background, inching unobtrusively to Tetsuya who's guarding the back.

The recipe feels heavy on Rosetta's pocket as she neutrally inspects a jar of onion soup, the first ingredient on the list.

"I want to go home," she whispers to Tetsuya. They've cleared out most of the shoppers, the few remaining on the inside are giving them odd looks.

"What's wrong?"

"This place sucks," technically, that isn't a lie.

"I thought you'd have fun, honestly," Tetsuya sighs.

Annoyance wells up in her, but she stifles it with a strained grin. He observes her again with that calculating look on his face.

"That's not your job," she says, looking away.

"You deserve to have fun," Tetsuya says this nonchalantly, holding his chin high. There's honesty in that, so much of it that Rosetta clenches her teeth.

"Have fun?" She repeats, putting the can down. She looks for Kyoko and Nana and sees that they are in the meat section, now arguing about something far more mundane than the humidity of breadcrumbs. Tsuna is following them like a puppy. "Our family is at war with the Gesso. Fuuta de la Stella is missing. Have fun? My happiness isn't your job. Are you trying to slack off?" she jabs a finger at his chest, trying to be angrier than she has any right to be.

"You always remind me how much of a prick you are every time I change my mind," Tetsuya pushes her finger down, his expression stony. "You were doing so well."

"Don't–" she bites down a retort, looking down. Her façade collapses. Her eyes sting. It's so much easier to pretend when there's so much at stake. Like this, when her mind registers Tetsuya as her friend, it's far more difficult. Like climbing a rock face without equipment.

Tetsuya stills.

"Why did you bring me here?" She asks. Her voice doesn't crack, but it's near, despair paints her vowels. "Why did you bring Kyoko when she asked to come? I brought her to you so you could reject her."

He looks at her like the answer is obvious and that she's too obtuse to think for herself.

"You're lonely. You need more friends. I can't– I can't be your friend, Rosetta-san."

She hates it that he sounds gentle. She feels pitied.

"You're not my friend," she sounds resentful. "You're Kyoya-san's retainer. And you don't have -you shouldn't do this."

"Do what?" Tetsuya bristles, confused.

Rosetta has tears in her eyes when she gestures lamely to the direction of Kyoko. Tetsuya wishes she is angry instead. He knows how to deal with rage. It's either one of the two, Kyoya's sharp anger or Rosetta slow simmer of a promised outburst. He doesn't know how to deal with hurt. Injured strays don't talk about their pain.

"Do you know it's my first time in a grocery? Do you know it's my first time to go out with people who might care for me and not the stocks I have in my name? Kyoko stays because she likes me, because she's too dumb to be afraid of my husband. I'm so happy, I'm so goddamn happy–" she wipes her tears with her uniform sleeve. "But this is a dream. It's just a good dream." Her voice sounds uncomfortably like a sob.

Tetsuya doesn't understand.

"You're giving me a taste of something I cannot afford to yearn for." She says. "All this, it will end before I realize it. It's cruelty."

His throat clicks when he swallows. "I'm sorry," he says. "I didn't think–"

"You didn't," she presses her hands to her face. "I'll be at the car. Tell them I got a stomachache or –or make something up, will you?" She sounds utterly defeated by life. Kyoya's wife shouldn't sound like that.

"Okay," Tetsuya hears himself say. "Okay, I'll hurry them up."

In her tiny bedroom, she spends an hour writing a letter to her mother. But it doesn't work as it did once. Her mother never replies. Even if she is alive again, Rosetta doubts she'll give her the time of day. Perhaps her mother was right, calling them monsters before she shut her eyes.

So she gets to work. She fishes the updated stack of coded ledgers from under her bed and goes over the numbers. Ryuusei doesn't trust computers, even when they tried to convince him. He'd rather leave a paper trail for Takenaka to worry about. It's a good distraction that takes her mind from the present. She obsessively goes over every charity fund, every illegitimate business, fake enterprises. Ryuusei's fingers are knuckle deep in nearly all of Japan's booming corporations.

There's a knock on the door. Rosetta ignores it. Anybody important enough would just open the damn thing, never mind that she's underdressed.

The door opens, papers flutter as a cold breeze makes its way under her shirt.

"I could have been sleeping," she tells Kyoya, looking back. He takes his time to observe the mess in her room, comfortable in a way she knows she won't be if the situation is reversed.

"You missed our meeting."

She makes a sound of disbelief as she faces him, looking up from her position at the floor. "I didn't think you'd mind," she says neutrally. "After all, you're the one avoiding me."

Kyoya ignores her; he reaches for a picture frame lying face down near her cabinet and finds it empty. She vows to chuck it out later on. He puts it back.

"Wear something decent," he says, observing her as her face reddens in embarrassment. "We're going for a drive."

She rests her arm on the car's windowsill and balances her head on the crook of her elbow, watching the scenery unfold through the bulletproof glass. The outskirts of Namimori at midnight is somewhere out of a fairytale, a dark brooding forest where the trees melt into one another in a lover's embrace. Kyoya is sitting beside her, reading a book under the yellow light of the backseat.

"Where are we going?" She asks for the fourth time.

Kyoya shuts his book, impatience floods his features.

"You'll see," he says for the fourth time too.

"I wasn't talking to you," she says and lightly nudges her foot to where Fusanosuke is driving.

"Where are we going, Fusa?"

"Safe house, ma'am."

Rosetta shoots Kyoya a satisfied look.

"What are we going to do there?"

She sees his expression tighten over the rear-view mirror. "That's for you to decide ma'am."

Her confusion ebbs away when they leave the vehicle to a bunker-like building tucked in between a copse of hardwood trees. Tetsuya is waiting on the outside, arms pressed on his back. He greets her indifferently as he opens the doors for them.

The bunker leads further underground, their shoes ring against metal stairs like an executioner's bell, easing through checkpoints. She doesn't recognize the men, but the men know her and salute in a drilled a way all the boss' loyal retainers seem to possess.

The smell hits her like a slap. It's familiar. The putrid stench of death and infection toned down by an undercurrent human excreta. Ryuusei has several of these bunkers scattered around Japan, a few in Italy. Once, she's spent a week in one of the darker cells, kept away from food and water. The human cages are mostly empty, save for a handful. Tetsuya leads them to a heavily guarded room.

"Pasquale Provenzano, second son of Nicodemo," Kyoya says, gesturing to the inside.

"Ah, that's why Dino Chiavarone was here. I was wondering," Rosetta's tone is carefully blank. "Trading us Pasquale..." For what though? She'll demand answers later on. But she understands the boss. Ryuusei can't ignore an opportunity like this, not when it's presented on a silver plate. It's not like he has much of a choice either, Dino can always turn the tables on Ryuusei with his hands around Pasquale's neck.

"We need a recorded confession," Tetsuya hands a cassette recorder to her surprise. Torture. Interrogation. Proof in case the Gesso pleads to powerful sympathetic famiglia and accuse them of murder without good reason. As if murder needed to be justified in the underworld. Briefly, she thinks of Tsuna.

"Why? That's not my expertise." It's a lie. She doesn't like it. The boss takes pleasure in it though, enjoys the rhythm of doing something he excels at. And she watched and learned and remembered.

"Boss' orders."

"Ah," she takes the recorder, remembers the feel of her hand on her husband's arm, her body flush against Kyoya's, the momentary flash of confusion on Ryuusei's smug countenance when they entered the dining room. She looks at Kyoya, who is surprisingly looking back. "This is your fault," she says.

The boss had a way for punishment, forcing her into doings things she doesn't want every time she steps on his toes.

Pasquale is lying in a pool of his own blood, his teeth bashed in. The fingers on his right hand are twisted to the point that his entire arm looks like a gnarled tree.

"Hello," Rosetta greets delicately, squatting far from him.

"Fuck you."

"Ah," she says. She used to say that too. Tetsuya reassured her that the confession can wait, so she uses it to her advantage. "Who killed Hibari Kuniyoshi?"

"I don't fucking know!"

"How did he die?"

"I said I don't know."

She looks over to him. He is thoroughly beaten, but he's vibrating with defiance. He shares Byakuran's features, a mop of white hair and odd colored eyes, the fork below his swollen eye. His jaw is square though, and his body is filled out nicely, years of being fed properly.

Rosetta sighs. "I need nails," she says to the men standing beside Pasquale. She can feel Kyoya's insistent stare on the back of her neck. "And a mallet please."

Pasquale doesn't look terrified at all, but he screams when she orders the men to hammer nails between his knuckles, three on each hand.

"You studied medicine, didn't you? Wanted to be a doctor did you? Wanted to save lives?" Rosetta asks. "You know what will happen to your body now."

"F-fuck you! You fucking bitch! My father will kill you! He'll hand you over to our men and they'll fuck you until you die!"

"You can still talk," Rosetta says, "you there, do his feet."

Pasquale clamps his mouth shut, but they follow her orders.

"You know how infection works, don't you? Sooner enough you'll lose those limbs." She tells him politely.

"I'll die of shock. I'll die and you'll get nothing."

"You have other brothers. Another can easily take your place. If you speak, that might not happen," she lies, absently rubs the scar on her left hand.

"I don't care about them."

"That doesn't matter. We have time, lots of time. I'll leave you here to lose your limbs. Confess and we'll take off the nails, bring you to a hospital even."

"I don't believe you."

"You don't have to," she says this with a purposeful sigh as if she's fatally bored with what he has to say. It jars Pasquale, used to screaming demands, loud enough he can't hear himself. Right now, every thought echoes in the expanse of his head.

She stretches her limbs, turning to leave. "Tetsuya-san, give me reports of his health, will you? Every six hours. Tell me if he wants to confess."

Tetsuya nods, keeping a close eye to her face. She wonders what he wishes to see.

The car ride is quiet, stifling. Rosetta curls to herself, shoes kicked off and abandoned under the seat in front of her. She's leaning dangerously on the car door, a terrible habit she learned from rides with her brothers. It was a gift once, to watch the old city streets in Italy play out like a colorful movie reel. She tucks her small face between her palms, feeling sorry for herself.

"Stop that," Kyoya says, his small book is open in his palm. He doesn't even give her the dignity of eye contact.

"You were right all along," she whispers, almost to herself. "After we married. You told me that there was nothing to prevent the boss from torturing me to get what he wants. Well, he locked me up and hurt me for a while until he realized I was far more useful to be seen getting along with him."

She peeks at him, he's looking back again.

"You survived," he says.

"No, not really," Rosetta looks away. "The person who left his infamous camp differs from the one you married."

When she says this, it feels like a confession: "I had dreams sometimes, for you to whisk me away from your father."

"That's naïve of you," he looks as if he has something else to say, but he decides otherwise. And then: "Kusakabe said he made you cry today."

She blinks, straightening up. "Yeah."

He gives her another one of his strange looks. She seems to get a handful, most from behind her back, a few when he spends an hour in her company, always at the balcony. Most of the time she sits with her tea set, pouring over assignments or paperwork. Sometimes she borrows Rita's gaming console and messes up her virtual farm games. She always talks to fill up the silence. He always stands by the doors, never sits beside her like he did the first time, adamant to leave.

"Why?" He asks.

"Why all the sudden concern?" She smiles, bemused. "You care for me now?"

Kyoya scowls. Her lips twitch in a way it does before she laughs.

"He was acting nice, your retainer. It frustrated me to tears."

"You," Kyoya's eyebrows furrow. It's a good look on him. He is handsome this way. "You cried because he was nice?"

"Acting nice," Rosetta corrects. Her feet are cold now; she tucks her shoes back, wriggling her toes. She can see the house from here, cold and imposing and alone in the forestry that surrounds it. "Nobody is truly nice to me in your family, except for you."

"Ho? You're terrible at compliments."

She looks at him again, he's still staring.

"It's the truth." She stifles a yawn with a hand. If she doesn't sleep now, she'll have a headache tomorrow. "You've never given me false hope."

Rosetta and Tsuna are sitting outside the mansion's greenhouse, huddled together on wooden chairs. They stacked the table in front with notebooks and ledgers piled in a delicate balance. On the opposite table, the maids have left a tea set with select pieces of dessert. Reborn is lounging on a beanbag, glued to his phone, constantly eyeing her untouched scones. Leon is pointedly missing from his fedora, exploring the trays of baby coriander by the gardener's sprouting begonias.

"Do you understand, Sawada-san? Or are you just nodding because you're afraid I'll hit you?" She asks.

Tsuna pales. There are sweat stains on his shirt even though it's about twelve degrees outside. He wipes his face, shuddering. He wants to say something, she can see that, but his words are clogged pathetically around his throat before it can pour out in stammers.

Rosetta puts down her reading glasses, massages the bridge of her nose. She pushes her scones to Reborn, who takes one without looking.

"I made these ledgers when I was twelve," she says. "Sawada-san, you can't be a good boss if you don't know how to read reports."

"I don't want to be a mafia boss."

She smiles thinly. "We've had this conversation before. This is basic bookkeeping; we can start again from the beginning."

Reborn snorts by his perch. She sees a yellow butterfly fluttering by the roses. Leon shoots from between the thorns and swallows it whole without blinking. The lizard crawls back into the thick of the plants, in his element.

"Can we take a break?" Tsuna asks.

Rosetta agrees. "Might be good for both of us," she is starting to sound like a broken recorder. They've been going through the basics for a while. Tsuna is averse to studying anything with numbers; as if he's afraid they'll jump out of the paper and eat him alive.

Tsuna is still fidgeting. He's twisting his pen between his sweaty fingers. Rosetta can't stand to watch him like this anymore. "What the hell is it?"

"What?"

"What's distracting you," she taps the ledgers too casually. "You're a bad student, but not like this."

Tsuna looks at her as she shoves him a few pulls of tissue. He wipes his temples with it.

"Have you, killed anyone?" He suddenly asks.

Rosetta blinks, straightening up. She risks a glace at Reborn who doesn't seem to be listening to their conversation, but she's not one to assume. He knows already. He has her file in his head, flipping around it in his downtime to scour for weaknesses.

"No." Her face is an unreadable mask.

"Ah, so it possible." Tsuna looks relieved.

"You're wondering," Rosetta says slowly, "if it's possible to be in the mafia without killing anybody, with no one dying."

He nods.

"I had a dream last night," Tsuna says, looking away. "That Fuuta and I-pin and my mom were in trouble because of me. Because I'm supposed to be the tenth. I mean, It ends quite well. I save them of course. I realize it's a dream soon enough and I save them. But what if I can't? What if they get hurt or worse..." he trails off.

Rosetta looks at Reborn for help. The hitman shrugs. "You're the tutor on duty," he says.

"Your mother, do you love her?" Rosetta asks, after a few seconds of silence.

"Of course!" Tsuna says.

"Will you die for her?"

Tsuna blinks, taken aback. "I'd do anything for my mother. She takes care of me, even if I'm Dame."

Rosetta nods. She doesn't think of her own mother.

"Do you think she'll be happy if you died for her?" She asks.

"No, of course not."

"Who is your best friend?" She asks, rolling her pen between her fingers.

"Gokudera and Yamamoto are my friends."

"You love them?"

"Yes."

"Will you die for them?" She continues, unfettered.

"Y-Yes."

"Do you think they'll be happy if you died for them?" She looks at Tsuna.

"They'll be devastated, I think."

By now Reborn is looking at her with curiosity.

"Will your friends die for you?"

"I –I don't think I understand where this is…"

"Will your friends die for you?" The pen rolls off her fingers, to the yellowing grass below.

"Yes, I think."

"Do you want them to die for you?"

"No!"

"Will you be happy if they died for you?"

"I love them. They're my friends. I won't."

"Will you stop them if they're about to sacrifice themselves for you?"

"Yes. Hibari-san, I–"

"What if you're not there? What if you're not fast enough? Strong enough?"

"I'll train. I'll become stronger, strong enough to protect everyone." Tsuna concludes. Reborn straightens from his beanbag.

Rosetta blinks at Tsuna, eyes blank. "That thought will kill you," she says. "Many circumstances are out of your control. Even if you think you know the field, your enemies will ensure that you don't." She's saying this without conviction, as if reciting something she's heard from someone's lips. "Terrible things will happen whether or not you want it. You can't blame yourself for everything. Strength doesn't mean you'll have the power to save everyone."

Tsuna shuts his eyes and places a hand over his face. A butterfly lands in his teacup. When he glances at her again, he sees that she's looking at him, but not really. Rosetta's pale eyes seem to focus somewhere far. It bolsters him to speak his mind. "But that's only your opinion, isn't it? That doesn't mean it's true."

She blinks.

"Opinions are neither true nor false. Take what you will of my words." She steals the scone from Leon's mouth crumbles it, giving the lizard sizeable pieces to digest. "The mafia is a wolf pit."

"Funny," Tsuna laughs awkwardly, thankful that the conversation is done. "That's what Dino-san said too."

She clips her mouth shut. When she speaks, it almost comes out as a hiss: "don't trust him."

"What?"

She meets his eyes and Tsuna sees a blade of genuine worry beneath her impassive mask.

She takes a while to respond. When she does, her voice is serious. "Don't trust the Chiavarone boss."

"He's my friend," Tsuna says insistently. His brows are furrowed.

Rosetta opens her mouth and shuts it, slips off the chair when she sees Fusanosuke approach from afar with a phone on his hand. She glides her eyes to Reborn who is regarding her openly.

"Allies are not friends–"

"That's enough," Reborn cuts in. "This is none of your business, Hibari-chan."

She says nothing, although she looks disappointed. She excuses herself, brushes past the table and meets Fusanosuke by the rose bushes. She answers his flip phone, speaking in quiet tones.

"Dino-san is my friend, isn't he?" Tsuna asks Reborn while she's away.

"He's the only person we can trust in the mafia now." Reborn replies without thinking. "He is your ally and your friend."

Tsuna swallows. "What do you mean we? Are you hiding something from me?"

Reborn smirks, proud of his student.

"None that concerns you, Dame-Tsuna."

"It concerns me," Tsuna insists, panic blooms in him. "My life is on the line here!"

Reborn's smile slides off his face like water on rock. "Well, if you're ready to listen to my secret, then you're willing to accept the Vongola into your heart, won't you? It's principle," his tone sounds more mocking than he intended. It does its purpose though. Tsuna looks visibly pained. Good. Tsuna needs that edge. He needs a hammer to discard his training wheels as fast as his sanity can afford.

Rosetta doesn't take the stone path to them. She runs, hops over the begonias, heels knocking over a few pots that shatter upon contact.

Something's wrong.

"Somebody's been attacking disciplinary committee members," she says in clipped tones, piling up the ledgers up her arms. "Get in the house. We're on lockdown."

A Note to the Readers: Again, I'd like to apologize for grammatical errors. English is not my mother tongue, but I'm trying hard.

If you have comments, suggestions or violent reactions. You know what to do! If you think you have any input that can improve this story, don't be afraid to say so too. Criticism precedes improvement!

My next update might not come so quick. I've been feeling a bit under the weather since yesterday. I think I have The Flu. ,,,,,,,,(；´ﾟДﾟ)ゞ