Sawada Nana and Yamamoto Tsuyoshi bump into each other at the market. In between small talk and laughter Tsuyoshi slips Nana a little list and winks.

"I see you've been helping with cleaning up the city, good work!" He says laughing. She smiles slyly.

"I'm just doing my duty to the younger generation really, imagine if my Tsu-kun had to live in a place filled with garbage." She responds. He nods his head, eyes upturned.

"Oh of course, as adults we have a responsibility to keep this town filth free. My own son has been so eager to follow in his dear old father's footsteps, how could I do any less?"


One by one the mafia men stationed in Namimori go missing. Not just Vongola's, but rival families and those vultures circling around like hungry animals. Those outside the city are left scrambling around, trying to find their missing pawn pieces. Those inside the city find themselves cut away from the pack, isolated.

As one, the city turns against them.


Reborn steps off the plane one last time and feels a shiver run down his back. People are staring at him, silently, judgingly. His instincts are screaming that there is a bulls-eye painted on his back, and he has to stop himself from looking for cover.

It's just a bunch of civilians, not even flame sensitive.

He can't help but feel like he's being hunted anyways. He narrows his eyes and slips his hand into his jacket for his phone.

His hand hits nothing but lint.


Tsuna is looking at their map of Namimori on their wall, the pinned up reports of the Mafioso they've been able to route out, the profile of those they've recruited. He traces city boundaries and frowns.

"We should branch out." He tells Tetsuya, working at the desk on some training plans for the Committee. Tetsuya raises an eyebrow.

"You mean outside of Namimori? We are barely keeping the mafia out of one city as it is." He says a little incredulously.

Tsuna hums.

"And they'll keep coming unless we can establish a buffer zone." Here Tsuna taps the map. A little fiddling with the display and it zooms out, the projection from one of Shoichi's gadgets wavering briefly before showing Japan in its entirety.

"And knowing the mafia, that buffer zone is going to have to be really, really big." He quirks an eye towards Tetsuya, nodding to the bandaged around his wrist.

Tetsuya sighs.

"Boss isn't going to like this." He says, slumping forward a little. Tsuna laughs.

"Boss will like anything that will get the mafia out of here faster. Besides, conquering more territory means more intense fights for him." Tsuna turns back to his map.

"And I have a feeling these fights are going to be very intense."


Namimori's history with the mafia has always been rocky. Before it was a safe zone it also was a largely contested area for a larger goal; japan itself. Before the Yakuza could fight them off completely, there were quite a few families greedy enough to want such a prime country for exporting. The death toll for some fights was so high they couldn't hide the bodies.

Its not talked about it in the mafia families because its such a small area, insignificant now a days. No one cares about the battles that took place because the families involved have already moved on.

Vongola sanctioned it off, and then forgot to abide by their own rules. Had the audacity to stash their heir there, to bloat Namimori with their numbers and say that they were retired. To invite greed and chaos back into the quiet streets.

But Namimori remembers. Some of the families of those killed are still alive, have passed down the stories. Some of them have businesses that were burnt during the skirmishes; some still have the scars or the missing pieces in family photographs.

It doesn't take a lot to re-kindle old grudges, and Namimori has a lot of them.


Recruitment for the Discipline Committee is in overdrive, and there's a quiet marketing campaign being run in school halls and arcades and in homes. Art clubs are making cute little signs encouraging people to "Clean up Namimori" and "Become the youth leaders of tomorrow". Teachers keep a close eye on their students.

Parents are holding meet-ups and group newsletters, exchanging tips on how to keep "Kids safe after dark" and "Free from negative influences". The Namimori Mother's Gardening Group stocks up on fertiliser and hedge shears. The neighbourhood watch becomes a well sponsored organisation.

The complaint boxes at police booths slowly fill up with observations, concerns, encouragement. There's a quiet stir in the department, as those higher up turn a blind eye and those closer to the ground slowly build what power they have. With the support of quite a few influential and rich families in the city they are able to go over old case files, comb over previously locked up evidence, route out the disease in the city.

They pull over unmarked cars for speeding tickets, setting up random searches through the city's new "Drug Free Program", very deliberately gives the delinquent Discipline Committee free reign.

Away from prying eyes, people put down their quarrels with each other and start planning.


Xanxus wakes up to Lussuria giggling quietly to himself.

There's a soft blanket half-hazardly draped over him, and for once in a long, long time, he feels warm. His mind can barely comprehend the sensation. It's like the absence of burning, and how odd that the ice had felt like fire licking the inside of his brain, but warmth feels like a distant blaze.

He blinks ice encrusted lids and sits up.

"Boss!" Levi cries. As in actually cries, tears and all. Xanxus tries to punch him through the wall reflexively when the other man goes in for a relieved hug. Levi hits the opposite wall with a crash, but the plaster doesn't even break.

Xanxus frowns at his trembling limbs. He feels sluggish, weighed down by some invisible force. The flames that roared all throughout his childhood feel cold now. Reserved.

"How long?" He barks at the gathered Varia.

In the back, leaning against one wall with dark eyes, Squalo clears his throat.

"Eight years."

There's a resounding silence before the room collapses outward. Wrath flames eat away at the walls, and it's only their good reflexes that save anyone from burning in the blast.


Xanxus locks himself up in his office before anyone is able to tell him about the other missing Vongola heir.


An exhausted group makes their way into town. From the tops of apartment buildings and grocery store windows people watch them go by, this strange group. An old man, two identical emancipated men, two boys walking side by side with caution in their eyes.

A dark youth with two toned eyes stares back at silent watchers. He notes the wariness in the people's eyes and approves.

The devil has come to Namimori.


Shoichi get's the alert that Mukuro Rokudo is in town and just bangs his head into his desk. He moans weekly in protest before calling Tsuna.

As if Mafioso weren't enough.