She is...

Tsuna was busy signing papers when Reborn entered his office.

"We've got a mission, Tsuna," he said, earning his attention from the papers. Tsuna raised an eyebrow and dropped the black pen on the paper. "What is it?" He leaned on his black swivel chair, interested as why would Reborn deliver a mission to him personally. Usually, he'd just call or let Gokudera or his other guardians report to him.
" We're going to capture a drug dealer. We have to arrest this woman in guise of a fortune teller."
Tsuna got even more confused. The mission didn't sound so dangerous that he, the boss of Vongola, would be necessary to be there. "Why do I have to be there when Gokudera and the others could do that?"

"It's a part of your training. She's not an ordinary drug dealer, Tsuna. She sells drugs that could temporarily give unusual abilities."

"Call Mukuro. He wanted cases like this."

"He's busy. You coming or not?" He held Tsuna's picture when he was fourteen years old, running in his boxers like a madman.

"What you gonna do with that?" He gawked at him, standing up.

"I have friends from the media." Reborn's eyes gleamed victory.

Tsuna sighed. He definitely didn't like that photo to occupy the entirety of a newspaper's front page.

"I swear I don't have any idea of your accusations!" She slammed the table in annoyance.

They were accusing her of illegal profiting under the disguise of being a fortune-teller. Worse was that, being a seer was the façade of distributing illegal drugs to the customers. Did she look like a fortune teller? She held and observed her clothes. Nothing suspicious, she looks pretty respectable.

"We've met a lot of people like you, lady. They always deny their ways of work," Gokudera stated calmly. The silver-haired bastard was annoyingly arrogant. She met his belittling eyes.

The room they were in was gloomily empty and cold; saved for a few chairs and a single long wooden table. Gokudera was standing in front of her with one hand on the table which served as a divider between her and her interrogators. Gokudera, the brunet or Jyuudaime, and another silver-haired turf head was with her inside the room.

"I'm telling the truth!"

"You're acting guilty as you are now," the silver-haired turf head commented. It was even annoying when he nodded as if he was sure that she was the real adversary here. Who wouldn't be frantic at a sudden turn of circumstances? It wasn't pleasing at all. She knew, at times like this, she should be calm if she hadn't done anything wrong but her system wouldn't cooperate. She was getting panicky and her psychological facet had been affected that she couldn't control her temper. And the silence of that Jyuudaime-person was making her even more nervous.

"Wait a minute." She stood up in realization, slamming her hands on the table, for the second time. "You're the police, right? You didn't Mirandized me? That's against the law! I need a lawyer. I have the right to have one," she insisted.

This time it was the brunet who answered. "We are not the police." Saying that with an awkward smile was made Deb swirl into a deeper maze of confusion.

"We're mafia."

Deb was dumbfounded. "W-what?" She knew she heard that right, but her mouth couldn't just help to voice that out in surprise.

Even if she was in one, mafia didn't sound appealing to her. Secret criminal organizations never sounded good because that word always reminds her of widespread drug-dealing, illegal profiting, prostitution, and the like; and she never liked those kinds of matter.

"We're mafia," the brunet repeated. "But you shouldn't associate us with the bad guys." He ruffled his hair as if he himself was hard up in explaining his self. You can't blame him. Giving a new insight regarding mafia was difficult since Mafia, for Deb, was already a criminal conviction. Plus, she's in one, too.

"Tsuna, you're being summoned by Reborn," a familiar voice suddenly called out. Deb gazed at the woman who entered the door to confirm her notion. Even though, she wasn't wearing any of those obnoxious blings and uncanny clothes, the voice and the woman's eyes said it all. But Deb has to admit, the woman looked pretty without those exaggerated garnishes. She had a long pink hair and a pair of deep green eyes.

"Chiromante!" She pointed at her accusingly. "That woman dragged me inside that tent! It wasn't me! She's the real deal in here!"

Everybody in the room sighed. They didn't believe her at all. But Deb noticed a change on Gokudera's disposition. He fell on the floor clutching his stomach. The russet-haired man frantically approached Gokudera, and then turned to the woman. "I'll go. Bianchi-nee, you should keep going, too."

"He still hasn't gotten over that sickness. Whenever I see him, he's always like that. Anyway, see you guys around. I'll go meet the chef. I'll help with the dinner." And before Bianchi disappeared from her sight, she met Deb's eyes, smiled and waved goodbye. She felt like she had just been splashed with cold water. On the other hand, the three men, Deb felt, were somewhat dispirited as if they just learned that they were sentenced to death.

"I'll pass for dinner this time." The three of them said in unison. Obviously, there's something wrong with the woman's cooking.

The brunet, whom she now knew as Tsuna, turned to Gokudera, worried for his welfare.

"Gokudera, you alright to the extreme?" The other silver-haired guy was loud; as if he was reprimanding instead of querying of the poor soul's wellness.

"Shut up, turf-head," Gokudera managed to hiss at him as his addressee helped him to stand up. After which, he turned to Tsuna, "Sorry about this, Jyuudaime."

"You should take a rest, Gokudera," he replied in sympathy.

"Just give him some medicine and he'll be fine. Give me a break! I'm the one who doesn't have any idea what's going on!" Deb yelled.

"You have no right to shout at Jyuudaime, you hag!" Gokudera suddenly got on his foot and was seemingly out of illness when he started to yell back energetically at Deb.

"I'm not yelling at her, you bastard!"

"You just proved how dumb you are, woman! It's not a 'her'! Jyuudaime's a man!"

"Well sorry about that! Your Jyuudaime looks so feminine to me! I wouldn't be surprised if you're hitting on her – I mean, him!"

Gokudera blanched, but he still managed to retort. "I don't care if you're a girl, damn it! Insult our boss again and I'll make sure you'll pay for it! You have guts to talk against Vongola, especially to their boss!"

Deb was dumbfounded. She wasn't sure if what she heard was right. What does Gokudera mean? That he was Vongola's boss? No, wait. She was under Vongola's custody? But, why? Questions started piling one after another inside Deb's mind. What do they want from her? Did they know?

"Gokudera, I'll settle this one. Leave the two of us here," the brunet said, breaking her thoughts. Gokudera frowned. It was obvious that he didn't like the idea but he had no choice but follow.

When the others were gone, it was Deb who started the conversation.

"Are you, by any chance, Tsunayoshi Sawada?"

He nodded.

She took a deep breath, closing her eyes in disbelief. "Why am I held under custody? I swear to you, I am not the fortune teller you're looking for. I don't do drugs."

"So it seems. I apologize for the ruckus then." His face betrayed his words. He didn't seem apologetic. In fact, his tone was sarcasm itself and he didn't do away his stare.

Did she annoy him when she said he was feminine? That made her nervous.

"T-then can I go home?"

"That's okay, Miss Cunningham, you're already home," a high pitched, childish voice called her attention. It was a small kid clad with a black tuxedo matching a dark fedora hat.

"Name?"
She hesitated. "D-Deborah Cunningham"

"Age?"

"20"

"Occupation?"

"I'm a freelancer."

"Are you sure?"

"No. I'm an employee at a certain company."

"What company?"

"Uh, I invoke my right to remain silent?"

Her gaze jumped around the room and to the two people in front of her. She gave a light smile, a sign of disbelief. She was getting panicky. It seemed like they don't have any plans to let her go. What will they do to her – engage her to slavery? She imagined herself in such situation – a maid or a prostitute? That made her shiver.

Mustering all the courage she could have, she asked. "W-what do you want from me?"

Deb saw the Vongola boss sighed as he frowned. He held his head.

"I'm Reborn, a hitman and the tutor of Tsuna. Miss Deborah Cunningham, congratulations, you've been chosen as a candidate to be Vongola Decimo's bride."

Deb frowned in confusion. They were kidding her, right?

Wait, was Tsuna also surprised?