A/N: I don't own KHR or any of its characters.


I walk confidently across the marbled floors of the Vecchio estate. Opulent, and not particularly tasteful, but I feel some comfort being back.

The guards wave to me with a smile as I pass, "Welcome back Hatsu!" "Another successful mission? Good to see you Hatsu!" "You're looking even lovelier every time I see you my dear!"

I wave back at them with less zest. Oh how things have changed over the years.

6 years ago I had started taking missions at the ripe age of 9. The youngest in the Vecchio family to ever take a mission alone. Edoardo hadn't been pleased with the crumbling of relations that transpired after the Hibari visit - that's an understatement. He was absolutely furious that I couldn't make a match and that they'd spent money and efforts even trying to get me in talks with other families. To my relief… missions came easy to me. They'd assumed they'd sent me on a suicide mission, but I came back without a scratch on me. I quickly became the hitman with the highest success rate in the family. And I could easily over-power any of the much more experienced fighters in the family after 2 years of experience on the job. Soon enough, I was even being loaned out to other families for presumably large amounts of money. And so the past quickly became just that - the past. A long distant memory.

I push open the double doors to Edoardo's office. "You're back sooner than I expected."

"I just couldn't stay away from the prospect of MORE work on my return." I respond sarcastically.

He laughs, "We do actually have something of importance for you."

"Seriously? Already?" I sit on the corner of his desk. I usually have a day at least between missions.

"Special request from an unknown source." I roll my eyes. Confidentiality usually meant a lot more headaches.

"I didn't expect you back until next week, but the sooner you leave, the better - they want you on call." He tosses me a pager.

"Oh Jesus Christ a PAGER? What are we foregoing the modern age of cell phones for this piece of plastic?"

"They paid handsomely and already wired the money." But a PAGER? If you have so much money to throw around I'm going to assume you can afford some Men-In-Black like gadgetry. I'll also take James Bond spy tech! C'MON.

"Where to?"

"Namimori, Japan."

EH? "..."

I hadn't heard 'Namimori' in a long, long time.

"We have a couple of small operations we could use your help on while you're there."

"Wow, there is no greater joy than traveling for a job, in order to do a second job on top of that job."

"I didn't miss your sarcasm."

"No one ever does."

Dario COUGHS as he enters the room, drawing our attention.

Dario neanders in lazily - a mess of blonde bedhead and dark undereye bags. Edoardo lays on the disapproval thickly, "Did you just wake up? You were supposed to be in training half an hour ago."

"I've done that training for 6 months straight without any improvement… it's not for me…" he grumbles under his breath.

"By your age I was already strong enough to beat my own father." Yeah, Dario will never thrive here.

He had grown into a tall, lanky sort of teen - I had heard many whispers of his handsome features; chiseled jaw, vibrant blue eyes, delicate lips. Delicate lips. Yeah, Edoardo would have WORDS if he knew that is how his son was being remembered. By his delicate lips. Anyway, we had crossed paths plenty of times over the years, harboring something much less than friendship, but more tolerable and understanding than the annoyance of childhood years.

"Sup brat?" I say as I hop off Edoardo's desk, grabbing the pager.

"Ha ha, hilarious Hatsu."

"Aren't I? Come walk me out." I command him. "See ya Boss!"

Edoardo waves nonchalantly as Dario and I exit the room.

When we're away from prying eyes I toss Dario a beautiful parcel from my coat pocket. His eyes widen, almost dropping the package as I throw it his way - a full decade of training at this point and he still can't manage a simple catch :'). I can't even poke fun at him for it, because it's frankly just incredibly sad lol. I really do pray for him.

"Is this - OMG where did you - how - THIS IS AMAZING!" His eyes sparkle as he delicately removes the wrapping.

He starts to shake, tears welling at his eyes, turning to me with a face that says he's on the verge of intense ugly bawling.

"Okay don't make me regret it brat." He sniffles and wipes his eyes quickly, nodding furiously.

"Thank you thank you thank you! How did you know?"

"Well, I am a master of observation. And you've only mentioned these hand-made specialty paints for about a decade straight."

"I'm almost finished with my last painting - this will be the last piece. I'll show it to you when you're back!"

I chuckle, "Can't wait."

Dario had turned out to be an exceptional artist. Not a surprise as he'd always showed an affinity and appreciation for the arts. Still, he had a duty to the Vecchio family. Same as I. And it would be a hard path for him.

"How long are you gone this time?"

How long? I'd like to know as well. The longest one had taken me away for a full 2 year. 2 years of madness. 2 years of bonding. Chaotic, though I didn't mind it. I don't have much waiting for me here anyways. These days I don't even see Kazumi or Guido on my return. They'd been able to afford a much nicer living with my success and closer ties with the Boss. As long as I didn't cause trouble - aka, fail a mission - there was nothing to discuss between us.

"Hopefully awhile."

Dario smiles at me sympathetically.

Namimori…

What a distant memory.


I disembark the private jet - yes, I did say PRIVATE JET. Seriously, one of the best perks of being a well-respected hitman. Why board a plane with hundreds of other people and risk blowing your cover when you can travel discreetly and comfortably in the family jet? And also, come on, PRIVATE JET. Who says no to that?

Lucky for me, no one else was headed to Japan, so it was just me and the crew flying solo. Though even with the quiet of an empty flight, I still have never been able to sleep through one. Not even a little cat nap.

My mind is restless anyways as I roll my luggage to the private car waiting for me.

It had been many years since I'd truly given time to think about Namimori and all that came with it. It was painful to dwell on for too long. And anytime I felt even an inkling of longing, all I had to do was recall my last conversation with Kyoya's mother and boy did that sober me right up.

First thing's first: I lift up the pager. The first line is an address and the second line is a string of what seems to be random numbers.

"Sir do you know how to get here?" I show the address to the driver.

"Of course Miss, a 30 minute drive from here."

I lay back deeply into my seat. I'm exhausted, having flown back to back trips without rest and therefore no sleep for over 24 hours. But just being in Japan again… it will be a couple more hours before I can even think of sleeping.

I love Japan as much as I always have. But this time, it didn't bring with it the same feelings of comfort it did when I was younger. I had changed and so had the world around me.

I roll down the window, leaning my head against the side of the car as the wind drifts gently across me. I wonder if the bakery I liked is still there…

I wonder if Hoshi has a lot of friends in school…

I wonder if Tetsu has that same old-fashioned hairstyle...

I wonder if Kyoya -

And just as I think his name the car pulls to a sudden stop. "We're here Miss."

A school? I exit the car and read the sign at the front gate. "Namimori Middle School." I turn back to the driver, "I'll be back, please wait here Sir."

"Yes Miss."

It's only 4:00pm judging by the giant clock in the center of the main building exterior, so most students should have gone home and some will be lingering for after-school activities. I know a bit about the inner-workings of middle-school - reading up on societal norms for my age is particularly important for undercover work.

Is my next target a middle school student? Maybe a teacher? That certainly doesn't seem to be high stakes enough though to warrant such mystery.

I think back to the pager.

The random numbers.

A locker combination?

I meander into the building, perusing rows and rows of lockers. First three digits are the locker number - I stop in front of the matching locker. Rest of the numbers are the combination - I twirl the lock right, then left, then right again until a soft CLICK.

"Easy."

A school uniform and packet of transfer papers for my enrollment sit within.

"Seriously? How long do they expect me to be here?" I always love an undercover mission, way more interesting than just 'here's the target, take out target, go home'. What sort of new identity should I give myself? The super try-hard student aiming for a top university and then medical school? The mediocre athlete on the cusp of stardom, but not quite good enough to be at the top? The bashful loner with a secret identity as a famous idol?! A secret identity within a secret identity - identityception.

My excitement rapidly builds. Okay I see some potential for this mission. I smirk to myself.

I grab the items from the locker and walk back out the building toward the car. As I take a step into the courtyard I sense a baseball flying straight at me at incredible speed - unnaturally fast for a normal middle school student to be able to throw.

"W-WATCH OUT!" a high-pitched squeal cuts through the silence.

I feign innocence, leaning down to tie my shoe at the exact moment the baseball zooms past where my head had just been.

A friendly-looking boy with spiky light-brown hair runs toward me with two others trailing behind him, as well as - as well as a baby… oh man I've been there before. Random baby that seems hyper observant and skilled, welp that certainly spells trouble.

"A-are you okay?" The boy bows profusely again and again and again. The smartly dressed baby resting on his shoulders eyes me intensely - or, I think at least, he sure has some lifeless beady eyes.

The boy beside him, weiding a baseball bat and the definite culprit of the flying baseball, rubs the back of his head. "Hahahaha, that was a close one." LOL so easy going, seriously what if I was just a normal student and he had just straight murdered his poor classmate? Things to ponder.

The silver-haired boy for some reason yells at ME, "Watch where you're going!" THE AUDACITY… His temper is just like rumors say. Hurricane Bomb Hayato of the Vongola Family. The others are new faces, but at least him I know. Every good hitman worth their salt knows of other hitmen. So on my first day in Japan I run into the Vongola and an Arcobaleno… that's a yikes.

I blink my eyes innocently, "Oh gosh, I didn't notice anything."

"A baseball accidentally came flying this way! It almost hit you - WE'RE SO SORRY." The brown-haired boy bows again.

"Tenth you shouldn't have to apologize!"Gokudera turns with a huff to the other one, "It's all your fault idiot!"

TENTH? This docile creature is the next in line to the Vongola line? I smile at them cutely and with a little head tilt, "Please don't worry at all!" I try and turn to leave, but damn his awkward need to prolong this interaction!

"A-are you a new student? I'm Sawada Tsunayoshi and this is Takeshi Yamamoto and Hayato Gokudera."

"You can call me Hatsu! I'm a new transfer student. I have to get going, but it was nice meeting you all."

If he's my target then we really need to send a refund - it wouldn't be good to have the Vecchio family anywhere near at odds with the Vongola.

They wave to me as I rush out of there.

"Hahaha she's very cute!"

"Y-yeah!"

"Shut up baseball idiot!"


A/N: quick update from me - next chapter comin in hot