"This is more difficult than I had expected it to be," Tsuna murmured, pinching the bridge of his nose as he flipped through several pages.

It had been nearly a week since he had learned of Yuri's situation, and though he requested the file from the Ninth on that same day, it had only been delivered to him two days ago. What he thought would be a simple research job, however, turned out to be a sizable list of names and dates – all of which were written in Italian. Sorting through the information alone would have taken days, but he hadn't even taken the need for a translator into consideration. It was clear within a matter of moments that he would need help figuring this one out.

So, he made the decision to share the situation with Reborn and his other two guardians, before requesting three days off from their individual schedules. Even with Reborn, Bianchi, and Gokudera, however – all of whom were fluent in Italian – they were making very little progress.

"There has to be almost one hundred names in here," Gokudera sat back against the window, tossing more papers across the floor as he removed his glasses and pressed his fingers to his strained eyes. All of them were currently using one of the smaller meeting rooms; although they had started out sitting around the wide table, they ended up strewn throughout the room.

"Names, dates, addresses…and only a few of them so far have connected to anything in particular," Bianchi added, setting her pen down and massaging her wrist. She was currently the only one still using a chair. "No matter how much of this we transcribe, it doesn't look like it will mean anything. Whoever is in charge of recording and documenting this has been very careful about omitting necessary information."

"It sounds like we're looking for people who don't want to be found," Yamamoto said from where he was crouching on the far side of the room, doing his best to organize the transcribed pages for Tsuna to look through.

"This is extremely frustrating," Ryohei, of course, was the first to abandon the chairs and had been pacing back and forth for nearly two hours now. "None of this makes any sense!"

"For once, Turf-top's right,"

"What was that, Octopus-head?!"

"Quiet!" Gokudera snapped, turning to face Tsuna. "It doesn't look like this is getting us anywhere, Tenth."

"A-ah…" Running a hand over his face, Tsuna set down what he had of the translated copy and sighed heavily. "It's looking that way."

"So…what do we do next?" Yamamoto asked. "You're not going to just give up are you?"

"…" Clenching his jaw, Tsuna could hear the sound of his teeth grinding against each other through his skull. "I didn't have much of a plan beyond this," He admitted.

"Then it's time to use your brain, Dame-Tsuna," From where he was sitting on the center of the table, Reborn finally chimed in. Leon fluidly transformed from the quill Reborn was writing with back into his natural form and crawled up the hitman's sleeve. "Try using what you already know."

"What I already know…?" It honestly didn't feel like he knew very much, but he at least knew better than to argue against the baby. It wasn't just the fact that doing so would almost certainly invite a great deal of pain, but that Reborn usually knew what he was talking about. The hitman's advice was sound, and if he was willing to offer it like a normal person rather than concocting some ridiculous scenario for Tsuna to blunder through, it should be considered a fortune. "Well…she's a hitman. Does that mean you might know her?"

"I've never seen or heard of her before. She's not a well-known member of our profession. Keep trying."

"Eh…well, she knew Gokudera and Bianchi when they were younger…before she disappeared…" Suddenly, Tsuna remembered something that he had put together the week before. "Wait! You said she disappeared when Gokudera went to join the mafia, right? Gokudera, do you remember that far back?"

"Mostly," The bomber replied, glancing up as he tried to bring up the memory.

"Then logically, she would have gotten herself into a bad situation around there – possibly with the people you talked to?" The bomber's eyes widened, like the possibility hadn't yet occurred to him. "Do you remember any names?"

"Ah, two," His eyes grew dark as he responded, as though an unpleasant memory was resurfacing. "Giordano and Rambaudi." Bianchi immediately grabbed the papers, rifling through the alphabetical list of names.

"Here," She pointed triumphantly. "There's no Giordano, but Rambaudi's right here. There's even an address, and a couple of dates." Glancing up, she gave them a thin smile. "Nothing solid, but at least it's a starting point." The first hopeful words any of them had heard in hours.

"There's one other thing," Yamamoto piped up. "She acted really oddly that one day we ran into each other. Do you think there's something behind that?"

"You're right," Tsuna straightened, suddenly feeling revitalized. "There must be. She wouldn't just explode like that for no reason…" He chewed on his lip for a moment before standing back up. "We've got two leads and two official guides. That's enough to work with. Let's split up and head out," Taking heads into account, he quickly organized them into the best teams he could think of. Tsuna wanted Reborn with him, and considering the recent tension between the siblings, it was probably good to give them some distance as well. "Yamamoto, Onii-san, you two go with Bianchi – see if you can track down this Rambaudi person. Gokudera, you're with me – Reborn, can you get us back to that area?"

"Ah," The baby replied. The smile on his face was reassuring, letting Tsuna know he was doing something right.

"Tenth…" Gokudera's eyes sparkled with pride, no doubt thrilled by the idea of Tsuna acknowledging his position as right hand man.

"Sure thing!" Yamamoto grinned, stretching out his limbs as he stood. "It'll feel nice to walk around after all this!"

"EXTREMELY!" Ryohei agreed, already jogging in place.

"We'll just try to pull together whatever information we can," Tsuna led the way towards the doors. "We'll meet back here in three hours."

"So, is this the place?" Yamamoto asked as Bianchi stepped back around the corner. "I have to admit, it doesn't look like what I was expecting."

"This should be it," She glanced down at the paper in her hand, double checking the address. "I couldn't find anything out of the ordinary around it, no traps or surveillance cameras...Sasagawa, what about you?"

"It's extremely normal," The boxer replied as he appeared from the other side of the building. The vague look of dejection on his face suggested that he had actually been hoping for a fight.

"Looks like this is just your average apartment building, then," Crumpling the paper, Bianchi tossed it aside and strode towards the house. "Let's head in – you two stay behind me, just in case. Keep your guard up." Approaching the building, she tucked a nice box tied with a ribbon under her arm and knocked on the door. After a moment, it opened up.

"What is it?" A gruff middle aged man stood before her, making sure to keep himself in the doorway so that she wouldn't be able to squeeze past.

"Hello, there," She greeted him with a charming smile. "I have two young men visiting town, and they're in need of housing. I've heard that this is one of the finer buildings in the area and was hoping to discuss their potential tenancy." Hearing this, the man seemed to puff up a little bit, and the door opened slightly.

"You heard right," He nodded proudly. "Why don't you step in, and we can try to work something out." He smiled and offered a hand, dollar signs spinning in his eyes. "The name's Rambaudi, I'm the landlord of this fine place."

"Hm, it's a pleasure to meet you," Bianchi shook his hand firmly and pulled the box out from under her arm as they stepped inside. "I brought a small gift, just to thank you in advance."

"Well, how nice," He chuckled, taking the box. Opening it up, he found two neat rows of simple sugar cookies. "Rather confident, though, don't you think? I can't guarantee anything just yet."

"Oh…" Glancing around, Bianchi smiled darkly. "I'm certain that I'll be getting what I want today."

"I like that attitude," Rambaudi laughed, taking a bite of the confectionary. "But I must warn you, I'm not the feeble-minded type."

"I'm sure."

"Well, go ahead and do your worst. If you'll just step in here and take a seat," Opening another door, Rambaudi invited her into a small office area.

"You two wait out here," She told the boys. "I'll take care of this."

"Will you be alright?" Yamamoto asked, his brow wrinkling in worry.

"This won't take long. I'll be out in a few minutes." There was absolutely no doubt in her words. Her confidence was reassuring, and the boys nodded as they fell back.

"The tenants themselves won't be joining us?" Rambaudi lifted an eyebrow.

"No point," Bianchi brushed by him as she pulled out a seat on the other side of his desk. "They're foreigners; neither would understand a single word."

"I see," Taking his own seat, he leaned forward on the desk and grinned. "Just as well. Neither seems nearly as competent as you. I trust you'll make for a quick and easy deal."

"Yes," Leaning back, Bianchi folded her arms across her torso as she adopted a reserved expression. "I trust you will as well."

"But of course!" A bright grin adorned his features as he began to file through a stack of paperwork. "Let's talk business. I currently have four vacant-" A look of vague discomfort suddenly passed over his face, and he lifted a fist to his mouth as he cleared his throat. "Excuse me," He apologized. "Seem to have a bit of indigestion. In any case, the standard rates are-" Once more, he stopped, but this time he clutched at his stomach and toppled forward in pain.

"Hm…" Leaning forward, Bianchi took his chin in her hand and turned his face towards her, smiling angelically. "Signor Rambaudi…I'm not here for the apartments." Though his face was contorted in pain, his eyes flicked towards the box balanced on the corner of his desk. Following his gaze, Bianchi chuckled. "Oh, those? Just a little concoction of mine…My, how rude of me! I never did introduce myself, did I?" Lowering herself so that she was at eye-level with him, her sweet smile darkened. "My name is Bianchi." His eyes widened.

"P-poison Scorpion…? You…" He groaned once more, pulling his arms tighter around his abdomen as he bitterly spat out, "Bitch!" The smile slid off of Bianchi's face. Twisting her fingers through his hair, she propped a knee up on the desk and yanked his head back roughly, forcing him to sit up.

"You've got quite a loose tongue there," She growled. "I'm sure I could cook something up that would burn it off altogether. Wouldn't that be nice?" His eyes widened at the proposition, and he grimaced fearfully. Scowling angrily, she tightened her grip in his hair and pulled his head further back so that he was staring up at her.

"You listen, and you listen well. You have five minutes to tell me exactly what I want to know before the poison burns straight through your stomach – give it another ten minutes, and it'll be in your heart." He began to thrash slightly in panic, but she silenced him with another rough yank. "Well, it looks like you're afraid! Don't worry, signor, I'm certain you'll make for a quick and easy deal; if you give me what I want, you'll get the antidote before your first ulcer appears. Time's ticking, though – I hope you're a fast talker."

"This place looks so different during the day," Tsuna remarked as he and his companions crossed the main street towards their destination. "It was really lively when we passed by it last time. Was there a festival?"

"It wasn't a festival, dame-Tsuna," Reborn spoke from his shoulder, frowning at the area. "It's a red light district, filled with the type of place Yuri's affiliated with. It's a hub for illegal activity – even with the Vongola to protect them from the law, there are limits to what can and can't be achieved. It's easier to hide in the dark of night." Listening to the explanation, Tsuna felt bile rising in his throat.

"So it isn't as simple as asking for directions to the nearest brothel, eh?" Gokudera grumbled bitterly.

"See the small rose carved into that sign, there?" Reborn pointed towards a wooden sign hanging over a barbershop. "That's the insignia of a bordello in disguise. The street will be riddled with them, but as long as you know what to look for, it will narrow the possibilities down somewhat."

"We'll try them one by one, if we have to." Tsuna said, turning towards the building. "We have three hours – it can't be that difficult."

"Of course, Tenth!" Gokudera agreed. "I'm sure we'll find it in no time!"

As it turned out, the task was a bit more difficult than either of them could have anticipated. Tsuna's face wasn't well known around here, which was both a blessing and a curse. It wouldn't do to have rumors spreading of the Ninth's heir visiting every bordello in the district, but no one was willing to give two teenage foreigners the time of day. Multiple times, they were simply thrown out, and told to come back later, with no answers to show for it.

"Get your hands off the Tenth, you bastard!" Gokudera yelled again as another buff man physically pushed them out of his shop. Thankfully, the bomber spoke Japanese every time, leaving Tsuna's cover intact. Even the milder of the two boys was growing despondent, however, and was beginning to consider risking his title just so they might get somewhere.

"Scusi, Signors," A raspy voice sounded right behind Tsuna, making the boy yelp as he spun around. A scruffy man was standing before them, smiling as he asked something in Italian. He was hunched over and wrung his hands out nervously as he spoke, setting the heir on edge. Before Tsuna could ask, Reborn replied, striking up a quick rapport with the strange man.

"Tsuna," Reborn finally said in Japanese. "Give me your wallet."

"E-eh?"

"Do you want to help your friend or not?" The hitman snapped. Grumbling, Tsuna hesitantly fished his wallet from his back pocket and handed it to Reborn; opening it up, the baby pulled out a sizable wad of bills and handed it over to the man.

"Grazie," The man thanked him with a toothy smile as he counted the money. The two talked awhile longer, before the man bid them goodbye with a charming little tip of his hat.

"I hope whatever you just found out was worth all that," Tsuna said bitterly as he took his wallet back, feeling that it was considerably lighter.

"It should be," Reborn held back from smacking his student. "He had been watching your progress and was offering a recommendation for a small fee. According to him, there's only one bordello around her that takes clients during daytime hours – it's supposedly the 'best in town'."

"Is it the one we're looking for, though?" Gokudera asked doubtfully.

"I asked if anyone was affiliated with the Vongola," Reborn replied, pulling his fedora over his eyes. "He says a young woman working there fits the description. She's well known around here, apparently, under the pseudonym 'Zita'."

"Zita?" Tsuna tilted his head, trying to hide his grimace.

"…it essentially means 'Little Girl'," Reborn explained hesitantly, making Tsuna's stomach churn.

"How shameless…" Gokudera mumbled, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Well? Where is it, then?"

"It doubles as a café for its disguise," The hitman replied. "Il Velluto Vigilia."

"The Velvet Eve…" Gokudera translated absent-mindedly as he scanned the signs of passing stores, giving a triumphant cry as he spotted it. Gritting his teeth, Tsuna opened the door and stepped in. It was a quaint little shop on the outside – small round tables decorated the floor, each draped with cute white tablecloths dotted with red flowers. Each was adorned with a glass vase in the center, a single red rose within. Just to their right, a smiling hostess stood behind a podium with menus in hand.

"Buon pomeriggio," She greeted brightly, smiling to show off a set of blindingly white teeth. As Reborn spoke for them, her expression grew amused, like they were sharing a secret. Judging by the way her innocent act slid away, Tsuna could only assume that Reborn had just cut right to the chase with her. Smirking, she leaned forward in a way that made it look like her arms were merely a frame for her cleavage. Blushing hotly, Tsuna turned his eyes towards the ceiling. Beside him, Gokudera shuffled awkwardly, coughing into his fist every now and then.

When he heard Reborn say "Zita", however, Tsuna brought his eyes back down. The woman simpered quietly for a few seconds before straightening back up with a scoff and said something with a hint of annoyance. Tsuna couldn't understand – but Gokudera could, and the tightness of the bomber's jaw along with the spark of anger in his eye was enough for Tsuna to piece the message together.

Pulling out a heavily bound black planner, the hostess flipped through the pages carelessly as she spoke, gnawing on her thumb nail. After a moment, she slammed it shut and looked at them expectantly. Beside Tsuna's ear, Reborn sighed.

"I told her who you're looking for, but she says to get in line," He explained quietly. "With the weekend approaching, she has a…full schedule. It seems she really is in high demand." Squeezing his hands into fists, Tsuna looked away as Reborn spoke, focusing on the nice looking interior of the café. He didn't want to acknowledge what he was hearing, what he knew was behind the silken curtains that the hostess was stationed in front of. The hitman's words made him feel sick to his stomach. "Tch," Reborn sounded annoyed after a bit more conversation. "She won't give me any information on who owns this place. I'll keep trying to persuade her," He said, leaping from Tsuna's shoulder onto the podium. "You and Gokudera head back, see if you can find anything out."

"E-eh?" Tsuna warily eyed the curtains behind the woman. Taking his gaze to mean interest, she stepped aside and gestured towards it with an impish grin. Gritting his teeth, Tsuna tightened his fists further so that he could feel his nails digging into his palm. With a forced smile of his own, he stepped forward and ducked under the curtains, silently taking comfort in the fact that Gokudera was accompanying him.

Honestly, the sight that greeted him as he stepped back was nothing he hadn't expected, but it was still difficult to stomach. It was as nicely furnished as the café, the floor covered in soft carpeting and the walls lined with long velvet couches. A wet bar sat in the back, currently unmanned, while decorative paintings and ornaments hung over their heads. Everything from the walls to the seats complimented each other, the entire room a palette of warm red hues. Five or six women were lounging around, stretched out on the couches as they smoked and chatted quietly with each other. None of them wore very much at all, and it took all of Tsuna's self-control not to turn tail and run right back out.

Catching sight of them, the women didn't look very impressed, but threw on wide welcoming smiles. The brunette sitting nearest to them stood to greet them, draping her fingers over their shoulders as she spoke. Her voice was low and inviting, but her touch made Tsuna's skin crawl. Gokudera was more composed, and jumped right into the conversation, making it immediately clear that they were looking for "Zita". She frowned at this, rolling her eyes as she stepped back and crossed her arms. Pursing her lips, her eyes flicked towards the staircase behind her briefly before she began attempting to sway his decision.

"Tenth," Gokudera muttered in Japanese. "You go ahead – she must be up there. I'll deal with this."

"Are you sure?" Tsuna asked, more because he didn't want to move on without the bomber than that he didn't think Gokudera could handle himself.

"I'll be fine, Tenth," He replied reassuringly, staring at the arguing woman before him with disdain. "See if you can find anything that might have the owner's name."

"…A-alright…" Gulping, Tsuna made his way towards the staircase, climbing the steps as quickly as he could. When he glanced down, he could see the other women staring at him with a hint of contempt, but they did nothing to try and stop him. Thankfully, when he reached the top, there was no mob of scantily-clad women waiting to ambush him. He faced a long hallway with several doors to either side, each one cracked open. Soft piano music drifted through the air, and there were far more windows up here than below, making it less ominous – the colors ranged more towards yellows and oranges as well, giving it a bright childish feeling. Swallowing, Tsuna nervously made his way down the hall.

It felt odd and wrong, just peeking into the rooms without permission. Many were occupied by one or two women, and none of them ever seemed bothered by his intrusion. On one hand, this place seemed to have a very open atmosphere…inviting, friendly. On the other hand, all he could see was a blatant denial of privacy and individuality. It was sickening. The whole place made him sick, and his stomach churned more and more violently with each door that he passed. Finally, he reached the end of the hall, with nothing to show for it. There weren't any plaques on the wall proudly displaying the building owner's name, there were no photos, no paintings, nothing. The entire establishment was completely devoid of any one person's identity. However, he did recognize the figure in this final room, where the music was coming from.

Yuri was curled up on a small couch, fast asleep, a small radio sitting by her head. Sunlight streamed in from the window directly above her, bringing various details into focus. She was tangled up in a heavy blanket, wrapped up and almost completely hidden, like a cocoon. There were dark circles under her eyes, and a thin sheen of sweat made her hair stick to her forehead and neck. She looked small and exhausted, just a withered husk of the girl he thought he knew. It looked as though the blankets might swallow her up at any second, leaving no evidence that she had ever existed.

"Please don't," Tsuna jumped as he absently began to push the door further open. Turning around, he saw another woman standing behind him with a sad expression on her face. "She's just a child. She shouldn't even be here. At least allow her to rest."

"Y-you're Japanese?" Tsuna asked in surprise. She gave him a quizzical look.

"It's not unusual for a place like this," She explained slowly. "Those of an Asian ethnicity are seen as exotic – this line of work has a high demand for them. For many immigrants, it can literally be the only option besides starving in the streets."

"I see…" Tsuna replied, clenching his jaw as he stared at the floor, feeling frustrated and helpless. "Do you…take care of her?" He asked, gesturing towards Yuri.

"As well as I can," The woman replied with narrowed eyes. "It's a cruel business. Her popularity earns the jealousy of other workers – in their eyes, she's stealing their wages. I can't just stand aside and ignore it, though. What our manager forces her to do is wrong."

"It is," Tsuna stepped forward, feeling a glimmer of hope for the first time. "Listen, I'm not a…customer. I'm her friend, and I'm trying to he-"

"Tenth!" Gokudera interrupted as he sprinted up the stairs. "Is that woman harassing you?" Irritation was plastered all over his face, and he looked prepared to throw the woman out one of the windows.

"No, Gokudera, she's fine!"

"…What?" The bomber looked doubtful as he approached. "Are you su-?" His gaze drifted to the room behind them, falling on Yuri's pathetically frail form within.

"I won't repeat myself," The Japanese woman took advantage of the silence to speak up. "She's not working a shift right now. Step away from the door and let her rest." She didn't have to tell them twice.

"Should we close the door?" Tsuna asked as they began walking back up the hall.

"It's not allowed," She replied. "Leave it. What were you saying just now, about being her friend?" Glancing over her shoulder, she gave them a suspicious look as they came to a stop near the edge of the staircase. "What are you here for?"

"We're just trying to help her," Tsuna explained, staring at her pleadingly. "Can you help us?"

"…" She still didn't look like she completely trusted them, but she was willing. "What do you need?"

"We're just trying to find out how she got into this situation. If you have any names, addresses, anything…?"

"I don't have access to anything like that. I can give you our manager's name, though – Benussi. I don't know where he lives, but I know he spends a lot of time in a bar down by the train station."

"That's enough," Gokudera said, glancing over at his boss for a second opinion.

"Yes, it should be. Thank you very much!" He called out as they started running back down the stairs. Looking over the banister, she nodded once before disappearing. "Let's get out of here quickly, Gokudera."

"Right away, Tenth!"

"This is the only bar she could have meant," Reborn said as they approached the run down establishment. "We only have about half an hour before we're supposed to regroup. You two wait outside this time – I'll take care of this myself."

"Y…yourself?" Tsuna was incredulous. The hitman never handled things directly, especially not if it was Tsuna's own business.

"Ah. This is a rough place," Reborn leapt off of his shoulder, taking Leon from the brim of his hat. "I don't want any unfortunate accidents happening. Stay here."

"A-ah…" Tsuna looked worried as the baby strode confidently towards the doors. "Will he be alright?"

"I'm certain he will, Tenth!" Gokudera replied confidently.

The moment he stepped foot inside, Reborn's sheer presence brought nearly all the activity to a halt as the door slammed shut behind him.

"Well, look who it is," The bartender was the first to speak up, setting down an empty glass and rag. "Finally decided to grace us with your presence, eh?"

"Just passing through," The hitman responded as he hopped up onto the countertop.

"It's been a while. The old man still got you babysitting that kid?"

"I don't baby my students," Reborn replied seriously, drawing a hearty laugh from the other.

"Ah, nice to have you back. What can I get you?" The bartender grinned as the other occupants began to return to their individual conversations, their attention finally falling away from the hitman. "It's on the house."

"No thanks," Reborn declined. "I'm here on business. I'm looking for a Benussi."

"Right back there, in the corner," Picking the rag back up, the bartender started cleaning the next glass. "Can't say I'm surprised – a guy like him hanging around this kind of place, I thought he would have been long gone by now."

"Thanks," Reborn said with a nod as he hopped back off of the counter and walked towards his target. He could see what the bartender meant. Benussi was a young guy, blonde and upstanding, dressed in a high quality tailored suit with his hair gelled back. He sat with a cigar in one hand and a glass of scotch in the other, sitting in the back so he could look over the other customers with a hypercritical eye. If it weren't for the type of business he offered, Reborn assumed he would have been a smear on the side of the street by now.

"I must admit, I was surprised to see you walking over here," Benussi said as Reborn leapt onto his table. "You struck me as the kind of guy that just eats, shoots, and leaves."

"Funny," Reborn smirked. "You struck me as the kind of guy that wouldn't last five minutes in a joint like this. What's your secret?"

"I can be persuasive." Lifting the cigar to his lips, Benussi took a long drag and exhaled through his nose, making the hitman frown as he was enveloped in a cloud of smoke. "I have some unique resources at my disposal, you could say."

"Evidently, that's what I'm here to talk about. I need to know about one of your girls in particular – Yuriko."

"Never heard of her," Benussi replied, stubbing out the cigar in the ashtray. His response had been quick…too quick.

"That's unfortunate," Reborn said, Leon transforming into a gun in his hand as he lifted the barrel to the man's forehead. "Maybe this will jog your memory."

"Whoa, easy," The cigar fell from his fingers as Benussi lifted his hands into the air. "Look, I can't just go around giving out information for free. This stuff gives me immunity around here, you know?"

"Does it make you immune to bullets?" The man gulped as Reborn cocked the hammer, solely for the effect of that intimidating little click! Any modern day Mafioso would know that it was an ultimately redundant move, but Benussi began to squirm in his seat – he wasn't a mafia member. It would be easy to just intimidate the information out of him.

"Hey, look, she was just sold to me, alright? She brings me good business, I don't know anything about her or where she came from!"

"Who sold her to you?"

"I-I can't tell you that!" He squeaked. Deepening his frown, Reborn grabbed his tie and pulled him down so that his chin cracked against the table.

"This investigation is being conducted by the Vongola. This is a direct order from the Ninth's heir – you understand what that means, right?" Reborn pressed the gun against Benussi's jaw, forcing a whimper out of the other man. "If you don't comply, you'll be facing much worse than me."

"…A-alright, alright, I'll tell you! Giordano, his name's Arturo Giordano! That's all I've got, I swear!" Chuckling, Reborn released him as Leon transformed back.

"It's been a pleasure doing business with you, Benussi. I'm sure we'll be seeing you again soon."

"Okay," Bianchi sighed, staring up at the small but elegant estate. "Let's hope this is our final stop."

"It better be," Gokudera growled. "I'm tired of this wild goose chase."

When they regrouped, they discovered Bianchi had acquired a list of affiliates from Rambaudi, along with their personal addresses. With Reborn having acquired a single name, it was a simple matter of narrowing down the options and singling out his name and residence.

"Do all the people in the mafia have such nice houses?" Tsuna asked as they knocked.

"Only the pretentious ones," Reborn replied with disdain.

"He's rather ostentatious," Bianchi frowned as a butler invited them in wordlessly. Reborn and Ryohei stayed outside to keep a cautionary eye out for any suspicious activity while the others stepped in, finding a sophisticated party. Women in long gowns walked about with glasses of champagne, draping themselves over the men as they struck up small conversation. "It seems this one is a bit of a playboy."

"It's…easier to handle than the brothel." Tsuna said with a strained chuckle.

"What?" Yamamoto asked in surprise. "You went in?"

"A-ah," Tsuna replied, cheeks growing hot. "It's how we found our first informant."

"Are you okay?" The swordsman looked concerned, so Tsuna tried to smile reassuringly.

"It's fine, we weren't there for long." Glancing down, his smile faded. "I can't possibly let Yuri stay there, though. Not after seeing it."

"Don't worry," Yamamoto grinned. "We'll get her out." Finding his optimistic personality infectious, Tsuna smiled back at him.

"Yeah," He agreed.

"Come on," Gokudera gestured at them to follow his sister's lead. "She found him."

A servant led them to a corner of the foyer, where the lighting was low and a heavyset man lounged on the couch with a woman under each arm.

"Well," He grinned widely at them. "I know my parties are alluring, but I honestly didn't expect the Poison Scorpion to grace my humble abode with her presence. Please, sit," He gestured at the plush seats around the table. "Interesting little friends you have here. Japanese, if I'm not mistaken – I am speaking the correct language, right? Are you planning to show them a good time?"

"I don't want you to have any delusions about why I'm here," She scowled and made no move to sit. "We have questions that need answering."

"So serious," Giordano smiled coyly. "Why don't you all grab a drink and loosen up a bit?"

"There's a girl that you sold to Benussi," Bianchi ignored him. "Explain that."

"I can't begin to say," He shrugged, lifting a champagne flute to his lips and taking a sip of the bubbling liquid. "I sell him a lot of his girls. He gets good business, I get benefits – it's a mutually beneficial exchange." Growling, Gokudera stepped forward and grabbed him by the collar. The women under his arms squealed and ducked away, but Giordano's expression remained calm, if not slightly irritated.

"You call trading a child's life 'mutually beneficial'?" Gokudera spat. Lifting a hand, the man wiped stray drops of saliva from his cheek and gave the bomber a strange look.

"I remember you," He murmured. "You're that snot-nosed little half breed that was so desperate to get into the mafia." Hot rage flashed across Gokudera's face at the words while Giordano pried his shirt free from the boy's trembling hands. "You know, you should be thanking me instead of throwing a temper tantrum. If I hadn't felt so damn sorry for you, you would still be sitting on your ass out on the street. Don't make me regret pulling those strings to get you in. Why don't you say 'thank you, sir', hm?"

"Shut the hell up," The bomber growled. "What did you do to the girl?"

"Ah yes, little Yuriko," He leaned back and smiled contentedly. "It's a bit of a story. I do wish you four would sit down." None of them made a move to take a seat, simply staring at him with disdain. "No? Well, alright then. I'm just trying to be a good host." He dipped his head as if to bow and took another sip of champagne. "Anyways, yes, your little servant girl came running out when I sent you on your way. Apparently she had been tailing you – did you know that? Yes? No? Alright, well, whatever. In any case, we thought she was some spy another family had sent, so we just grabbed her and took her along for the ride. Imagine my surprise when I realized she had just been trying to get you to go home!" He laughed loudly, like it as the funniest thing he had ever heard. "A brat like you had such a cute little girl chasing after him? I can hardly believe it to this day!"

"If you knew who she was, then why didn't you return her?" Bianchi interrupted, her voice dangerously low.

"Are you kidding me?" Still chuckling, he threw back the last of his alcohol and set the glass aside. "You know, Eurasian girls are regarded as particularly beautiful by many people. There's something about that mixture that makes them feel exotic but still familiar – men, in particular, are quite fond of the look. I knew she would fetch me a pretty penny with a guy like Benussi; there was no way I was letting a chance like that slip by. And she was well worth it," He smiled broadly, like he was recalling a pleasant memory. "Benussi was practically begging on the ground when I made the offer, he went ahead and made me his business partner!"

"You're a pig." Bianchi hissed, her fists trembling with anger. "I should kill you right here."

"Wait," Tsuna spoke up, though he felt dangerously close to committing his first murder himself. "What about her other job? How did that happen?"

"Hm? Oh," The man grinned, looking disturbingly pleased with himself. "After a few years, she started begging me to let her go. 'Please, please, I can't do this anymore, I can't live this way.'" He raised the pitch of his voice, mimicking her pleads. "I had never seen a person so desperate – outside of an interrogation, of course. Torture does such interesting things to a person's head…ah, but I digress. Yes, I decided to give her a deal – I would allow her to receive some proper training as a hitman." Closing his eyes, he held up a finger, as though he were quoting fine literature. "You see, I'm a very busy man, so I gave her a copy of my own hit list. She would report directly to me if I needed a job done – I told her, once she had completed one hundred jobs, she was free to go." Opening his eyes, a devilish grin spread across his face. "I never thought she'd actually agree to such terms. I've never regretted the decision, either. She does her job so well…who would have thought such a pretty face could hide a natural talent for killing in cold blood?" He leaned forward and winked at Bianchi. "Then again, it doesn't seem to be a rare phenomenon. Shame I couldn't get my hands on a beauty like you."

"You're a monster," She herself looked like a feral animal. Behind her, Gokudera and Yamamoto looked shell shocked, unable to move or speak. With Yamamoto's personality, Tsuna wouldn't be surprised if the story had felt like a slap in the face to him. To have such a harsh reality thrown right into his face when he was usually so naïve…it had to be a difficult pill to swallow. Gokudera, on the other hand, wouldn't usually be so easy to faze…Tsuna wondered, sadly, if the boy blamed himself for Yuri's predicament.

"Let her go." Tsuna demanded, keeping his voice level. A murderous rage smoldered in his eyes, threatening to be unleashed, but he fought to maintain his composure. "You can't just keep her like some sort of slave."

"Hmm," Giordano hummed, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "I can, actually."

"This is sick, disgusting, and illegal." Tsuna stepped closer, almost able to feel his flame threatening to burst to life within him. "One word to the officials could destroy everything you've built up for yourself here."

"Ah ah ah," The man shook his finger in Tsuna's face, as though he were scolding a child. "I assume you think your words carry weight just because you're the Ninth's precious heir? Well, Vongola Decimo, allow me to be the first that will teach you how laws work within the mafia." Tsuna's brow wrinkled in confusion. Glancing behind him to look at Bianchi, she just shook her head. "Oh don't feel bad for not knowing this; I understand you're still very new to all of this. Come on, sit!" Scooting over, he patted the spot beside him eagerly. When Tsuna still refused to move, he rolled his eyes. "Oh come on, you've been standing there like a wooden post for far too long. Just take a seat, and I'll tell you exactly why you're powerless in this situation."

"Make it quick." Tsuna grit his teeth as he sat stiffly, only growing more rigid as the man threw an arm across his shoulders.

"There's a good boy. Now, let me ask you this – how much of the mafia do you think is legal?" With a drunken giggle, he pulled Tsuna close, in a strange sort of hug. "That's right, none! Business operates solely on black market legalities in this twisted world of ours, and according to those legalities, the girl. Belongs. To. Me." With each word, he tapped Tsuna on the nose. "You wouldn't dare bring the matter to the police, silly boy, because that creates an opening for them. Once the law starts poking around in our business, there is always a risk of them finding gaining a bit of leverage against us, and that just won't do! As the boss, you're expected to protect your family – every dark, dirty corner of it. Taking this to the 'officials'," He snorted at the word. "Is considered an act of treason against us, heir or not."

"We, us, our – you keep talking like you're one of us. I don't need the police. The Ninth is powerful enough. You're a criminal, and you'll never be a member of this family."

"Oh, funny you should bring that up, I was just about to get into that!" Giordano exclaimed gaily. "The Ninth is powerful where the Vongola is concerned, and you see, I am a member of this family. The girl, on the other hand, is not."

"What do you mean?" Tsuna asked, glaring daggers at him.

"The only reason there's a file on her in the office is because she's doing Vongola work. That file is nothing more than a quick biography and then a list of names – those are the people she's taken out for me. It's those names that hold any significance within that office, not her. See, officially, she's like a freelance worker. I hire her, she does the work, but she holds no affiliation with anyone – including the Vongola. And the Ninth is powerless in matters outside of his own jurisdiction. Make sense?" He donned an amused expression as Tsuna began to lose his composure. "Oh, am I making the heir frustrated? I'm afraid you'll have to get used to that feeling, kid."

"Let her go." Tsuna demanded, grabbing him by the collar just as Gokudera had.

"Well, now that that's all cleared up," Giordano finally adopted a serious expression, lifting his hand into the air. Seeing the signal, several suited figures began making their way towards them from various areas on the floor. "I think you've overstayed your welcome."

"No, no," Surrounding them, the men grabbed them and began to force them towards the entrance despite their struggling. "LET HER GO! YOU SICK BASTARD, I SWEAR I WILL RUIN YOU!" Tsuna screamed, kicking and yelling as he was pulled along. "YOU'RE DISGUSTING! I'LL NEVER FORGIVE THIS!"

"You have a good evening as well, Decimo! This was fun!" Giordano smiled, lifting his glass. "Cheers!" With an anguished yell, Tsuna's fists met the heavy wooden doors as they were literally slammed in his face, locking them out.

"What happened, Tsuna?" Reborn asked, but Tsuna ignored him and continued pounding his fists against the door.

"You coward!" He continued screaming even as his voice grew hoarse. "OPEN THE DOOR!"

"…Shit." Gokudera cursed quietly, turning away from the sight and kicking a rock as far as he could.

"You know, it's not your fault," Yamamoto placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, but the Bomber simply pushed it off and said nothing, leaving the swordsman to stare at him sadly.

"Onii-san, get this door open." Tsuna demanded as he finally stopped his own onslaught, panting heavily as the blood from his knuckles dripped onto the concrete.

"Oi, Sawada, that's extremely stupid," The boxer chastised, taking the boy's hand to examine the damage. "Throwing punches without any wraps will just break your hands."

"I don't care, I want that door open-!"

"It's over, Tsuna!" Bianchi snapped, even though she was fuming quietly herself, arms crossed tightly across her chest. "There's nothing to be gained. Not here. Not with him." Tsuna looked ready to turn his anger onto her, but with each deep breath he took, his shoulders sagged a little further until he was simply staring at the ground in defeat.

"So, what's next, then?" Yamamoto asked tiredly. Even he wasn't able to inject an ounce of optimism into the situation.

"I don't know," Tsuna muttered, running his hand over his face. "But I know I'm not ready to give up. Let's go back and get another plan together. I don't care what it takes, I won't let this continue under any circumstances."

A/N: Oh boy. That was both fun and a bit horrible to write. It's always hard trying to write intense scenes - the pictures in your head don't always want to become words. I actually took it back down to rework a few scenes, since I wasn't too happy with the first (or second, or third) draft, agh. I've been editing this for so long I think I've gotten too close to it and can't really tell any more, so I'd appreciate some feedback on how it comes across. In any case, I hope you've all had a lovely weekend, and as always, thank you for the support!