"Are you sure this was a good idea?" The noise level wasn't loud enough to necessitate yelling, but Yamamoto still had to raise his voice in order to make himself heard.

"It seemed like one at the time…" Tsuna frowned. The swordsman's concern wasn't without foundation. "I couldn't think of anything else."

"This is extremely uncomfortable." Ryohei chimed in, shifting uncomfortably as a couple of cheering men pushed by him.

"I know, I'm sorry," Tsuna apologized frantically. "I honestly hadn't expected this."

After the meeting with Giordano, Tsuna had been in a continuous state of agitation, barely able to function properly. After several consecutive nights of poor sleep, he finally decided to try for the brothel again, only this time it would be during the evening hours. Since the last thing they needed was to draw attention to themselves, and both Bianchi and Reborn stuck out like sore thumbs in that crowd, neither of them were accompanying the boys this evening.

It'll be fine, Tsuna had convinced himself. It was awkward and uncomfortable, but if his previous visit served as any indication, they could handle it. If it was busy, all the better – they would just blend in with the crowd, avoid the workers, and focus on trying to find additional information. And it was busy alright. In fact, it was chaotic. The innocent café façade did little to conceal the loud music and cheering from within. A quick peek behind the curtains revealed the reason for such activity.

During their first visit, Tsuna had failed to notice a moderately sized stage in the back of the room, a metal pole running vertically up to the ceiling right in the center of the platform. It was impossible to miss now, with all the lights focused on it, as well as all the eyes of the clients. A handful of women were apparently in charge of more 'innocent' forms of entertainment, showing off their various talents. There was dancing, there was singing, there was even a pair of women with a background in gymnastics. It would have looked like a perfectly normal talent show, if all the contestants weren't clad in lingerie. Tsuna was hardly an expert on brothels, but he was fairly sure this wasn't typical for such establishments.

"It seems this…show is part of what makes The Velvet Eve so famous," Gokudera confirmed, returning to them after he had left to glean some information off of inebriated individuals. Being the only one out of the four that was fluent in Italian, they were relying solely on his abilities. On the one hand, Tsuna felt guilty for placing so much responsibility on the boy without taking an ounce for himself. At the same time, at least the bomber had something distracting to do. The other three had done nothing but stand around awkwardly, flinching whenever someone so much as brushed up against them. "I guess it's pretty unique."

"That's one way to put it." Tsuna rubbed his palms up and down his arms, like he felt the need to get something dirty off. "Have you managed to find anything else out?"

"I've been trying, but there aren't many good sources of information," Gokudera ran his fingers through his hair in exasperation, looking down in shame. "I'm sorry, Tenth."

"No, it's okay," Tsuna sighed. "It was a long shot anyways."

"Hey, I'm sure we'll come up with something!" Yamamoto broke in optimistically, but Tsuna was only able to give him a watery smile.

"I guess we should probably go, then-"

"It's you." A new voice suddenly interrupted as they turned towards the exit. Glancing over his shoulder, Tsuna's eyes widened as he recognized the Japanese worker from before. She looked different now, with her hair done up and makeup caked onto her face, but she wasn't difficult to recognize. "Are you here to take the child?"

"Oh, um…" Rubbing the back of his neck, Tsuna glanced up at the ceiling. "I'd like to. I really would, but…"

"…I understand. The men that own her are impossible to reason with." As he looked back down, he was surprised to find that she didn't look as angry as he had been expecting her to. "It's a sad fact, isn't it?" She glanced down, as though the words she spoke held too much weight for her to handle. "It's a grim day when you realize there are people like that living on the same planet as you, and there's not a thing you can do to stop them. It takes strength to gain power, after all, and the sickest of minds are unfortunately also the strongest. People like that know how to manipulate the world to their whims, quietly destroying everything behind the scenes, gaining more strength and more power until you finally notice…but by then, what can you do? It's too late, and no matter how hard you push, they will always be able to push back harder and stronger, because unlike you, they don't care who gets hurt in their wild scramble for power. When all is said and done, good will never triumph over evil." Slowly, she lifted her eyes back up to meet his, silently daring him to question her words. "Don't you agree?"

"…" If her aim had been to shock the boys into silence, she had succeeded. Everything she said held a dark, heavy weight. It wasn't difficult to discern that she had experienced such a scenario personally, and that it had hurled her into a very bleak part of her life. Rage and bitter resentment lay behind her eyes, carefully controlled and barely contained by a dense layer of apathy. She had fought her battle already, she had lost, and she had given up hope.

Rather than instilling the same sense of hopelessness in Tsuna, though, she had reignited his flame – the flame that burned brightly whenever his friends needed him, whenever he needed to protect those that were dear to him, whenever he needed to act like the Vongola Decimo. Suddenly, rather than feeling downtrodden and on the verge of giving up, he was more determined than ever. Eyes ablaze, his gaze sat unwavering as he told her, "No. I don't agree with that at all."

"Then prove me wrong." She stepped forward as she spoke, lips twisting into a deep scowl as she loomed over him. "You said you would help her. So help her."

"I…" The woman was quite the actress, Tsuna realized. She had manipulated him like puppeteer, turning his attitude around with a snap of her fingers. Part of him wanted to get angry, to feel invaded, violated…but all he could feel was grateful. "I will. I promise."

"Oi, Sawada," Ryohei nudged him gently with his elbow. "Isn't that her?"

"What do you mean-?" Tsuna was confused, until he realized the boxer was jutting his head in another direction, drawing their attention across the room. "Oh."

A few yards away from the stage, sticking close to the walls and under the shadows, was Yuri. It was hard to believe it was her, wearing what looked to be a corset-like maroon leotard over a pair of opaque black tights, her feet clad in heels so tall it was difficult to understand how she was even standing upright. Silky cloth clung to her arms, covering every inch of skin from her wrists to her upper arms so that the pale skin of her shoulders and neck stood out like a neon sign against the dark colors of her clothes. It was a sultry and seductive costume – she could have looked beautiful if she didn't look so completely disgusted, so sickened by her own skin and the clothes that adorned it.

A customer was standing in front of her, blocking her way by bracing himself against the wall as he grinned down at her. His eyes had the look of a wolf staring at its prey, a look that made Tsuna's skin crawl. No matter how many times the girl shook her head and tried to duck or dodge around him, he cornered her again, keeping her sandwiched between either him and the crowd or a wall. There was no easy way for her to get away.

"She made an arrangement with our manager several months ago," The Japanese woman spoke up again. "She asked to become one of the performers, even though the idea revolted her."

"Why?" Gokudera asked in a tone that suggested he thought the concept was moronic.

"The only talents she could offer were singing, and dancing. We have more than enough singers, and dancing usually involves that pole. She even has quite a talent for it, actually, but the thought of getting up in front of so many leering-"

"You don't think I can figure that much out myself?" The bomber interrupted coarsely. "I meant why would she make that arrangement?"

"The performers are relieved of the obligation to take clients for the duration of the evening whenever they have a show scheduled. Ideally, she shouldn't be harassed by anyone on such nights, but that rarely stops the customers."

She was challenging them again. After spending more than five minutes with her, it was clear to Tsuna that this was how she controlled others, pulling the strings like they were marionettes. 'Puppeteer' really was the best term to describe her with. Her otherwise harmless words were a quiet dare for them to take action – a dare that a certain hotheaded bomber wouldn't be able to resist. As they watched the man trap Yuri once more, this time by grabbing her firmly and shoving her back against the wall, Gokudera let out a low irritated growl. Before any of the boys could react, he was stomping towards the pair, shoving his way through the crowd.

"Ah, w-wait, Gokudera-!" Tsuna yelled, trying to stop the storm guardian. As much as he wanted to step into the situation himself, Tsuna knew starting a fight in such a crowded scene could only bring trouble. "Gokudera!" It was no use; the path that the bomber carved out for himself closed seamlessly right behind him, leaving a near impenetrable wall of people for Tsuna to fight through. "Gokudera, stop!"

He would not stop. He couldn't even hear Tsuna's voice over the roar of the crowd and his own anger. He would not stop, and in less than a second he had the man turned around with a fist buried in his nose.

The area around them grew still almost immediately, a space clearing around the pair as soon as the punch had been thrown. The man had his hands pressed to his face, blood flowing freely from his nose as he bellowed angrily in Italian, and Tsuna cursed under his breath as he was suddenly left with no crowd to fight through. The damage had been done, now it was all just a matter of how quickly they could fix-

"Oh no…" Tsuna muttered. No, now it was a matter of whether or not they could fix the situation at all. Directly behind the screaming Italian, Yuri was staring at them in horror. Her eyes were wider than saucers, her jaw clenched so tightly Tsuna was able to see the muscles trembling even from this distance. Taking several steps forward, he placed his hand on Gokudera's shoulder, holding the bomber back from furthering the attack and drawing his attention towards the girl.

The moment they all made eye contact, something seemed to snap within her. In the time it took to take another step toward her, one of her shoes went flying over their heads, barely missing as they both ducked to avoid a painful collision.

"Y-Yuri-" Tsuna tried talking, but found himself lost for words as he noticed the tears threatening to spill over her cheeks if she so much as blinked.

"Why are you here?" She asked. "You shouldn't be here, you can't…why…" Her voice was shaky and soft, the words not aimed at them. She was quietly begging, pleading, muttering to herself as she worked desperately to pry the other shoe from her foot.

"Yuri, just…calm down, I can explain-"

"Get out!" Her voice came out as a strangled sob as the other shoe sailed through the air, even closer to their heads than the first. She wasn't actively trying to hurt them, but she certainly wasn't trying very hard not to. The projectiles were little more than a distraction, which she took advantage of as she turned and ran straight for the nearest exit.

"Oi!" Gokudera yelled after her, far more irritated now that one of the shoes had left a long shallow scratch along his cheek. "Damn it, woman!"

"W-wait!" Tsuna suddenly found himself torn as the bomber decided to follow her. He couldn't see that interaction going well in any way, but he had an angry Italian with a broken nose now deciding to pick his own fight. "Ahh, I don't suppose you speak Japanese too, by any chance?" Tsuna muttered with a nervous smile, bracing himself as the man moved to hit him.

"That's something I extremely can't let you do!" Jumping in front of Tsuna, Ryohei sent the man reeling backwards with a quick jab of his own.

"Go, Tsuna," Yamamoto joined them, widening his stance and lifting his fingers to the hilt of his sword as several others began to grow braver, eager to join a potential fight. "We'll handle this."

"I can't leave you here with this," Tsuna protested, even though he kept glancing over his shoulder towards the exit. He couldn't see either Yuri or Gokudera anymore – if he waited much longer, they would be impossible to catch up to. The girl had clearly been on the verge of hysterics, and regardless of how much history they might have, Gokudera was not the right person to speak to her at the moment.

"Go," The Japanese woman said as she strode past him, towards the commotion. He could see her lifting the hem of her skirt, reaching for a number of blades tucked away in her garter belt. It suddenly occurred to Tsuna that the circumstances which led her to them may have been a bit too coincidental. "You swore you would help her just moments ago, didn't you?"

Tsuna had dozens of questions swarming through his head, but it was hardly the time to be wondering who this mysterious woman was. Gritting his teeth, he yelled over his shoulder as he ran towards the exit, "I'll leave it in your hands!"

Running out of the brothel felt like jumping into a cold pool, the night unusually frigid and windy. Ignoring the sudden shivers that seized his muscles, Tsuna scanned the area around him frantically, breathing out a small sigh of relief as he caught sight of Gokudera still running down the street.

Even though she was barefoot, Yuri was doing a surprisingly good job of eluding capture, though Tsuna could see the bomber was slowly catching up to her. With the amount of adrenalin that was pumping through his veins, Tsuna didn't even think twice as he set himself to chasing after them. Under any other circumstances, it would have been nearly impossible to catch up to the pair, but Gokudera's yells were growing more and more clear as they ran. He was gaining on her, and as she came within arm's reach, the bomber lifted his hand in an attempt to grab her by the shoulder.

Tsuna came to a dead stop, jaw dropping in shock as the girl whirled around, her fist cracking across Gokudera's face. He stumbled back several steps, pressing his palm to his bruising cheek as he openly attempted to clear his vision of stars.

Yuri had an athletic figure – she was tall, with narrow hips and wide shoulders, and every muscle on her body was clearly toned. She certainly didn't look like the delicate, small flower that a girl was often expected to be, but that came with one clear advantage: she had a mean left hook. There was a moment of silence as the two boys simply stood motionless, too surprised to think of something to say while she stood panting in front of them.

"What?" She spit the word out, bitterly, accusingly. "What do you want from me?"

"I…" The bomber focused on wiping the trickle of blood from his mouth, using it as a chance to avert his gaze. There was something unbearably raw in the way she was staring at them, like she had finally lowered all of her walls and shields. The real Yuriko was standing before them, and it was an image so broken that it was painful to look at. It was as though she were made of glass – the further she broke the sharper she grew. "I get it, alright? We talked to that bastard Giordano, and-"

"You did what?" She hissed, fingers curling more tightly into fists.

"He explained. He explained everything," Tsuna hesitantly spoke up, wary of her body language. Something told him she didn't regret punching Gokudera, and she wouldn't hesitate to lash out again. "Why didn't you just…tell us what-?"

"Why should I? What good would that have done?" She snapped once more, taking small steps backwards. "Even if I told you, what can you do about it?"

"You'd better watch your mouth…" Gokudera growled out in a warning tone. He would never tolerate a single bad word about his boss, regardless of who it was coming from.

"Am I wrong?!" Yuri yelled, her voice suddenly climbing in volume. "Tell me, what can you do? What's your plan? How are you going to save me?" Neither boy had an answer for her. "So you just decided to come here and stumble around, hoping to be some kind of knight in shining armor. I've been struggling here for years, trying to get myself out for years. The fact that I couldn't help myself means nothing to you, though, does it? In your eyes, that's what's supposed to happen – we haven't really found a solution until you give it a try, until you come in to save the day."

"That's not-"

"Did it ever occur to you that I didn't ask for your help?" She screamed, cutting off the protest. "Maybe, just maybe, you should try minding your own business! Did it ever occur to you that I didn't tell you for a reason, and that you might actually try to respect that?" She paused for a moment, giving them a chance to speak, but neither could think of a way to respond quickly enough. "No! Of course you didn't! No matter what, I must be asking for help, isn't that right? My tortured existence alone is a pathetic cry for help that you must answer!"

"You're here because of me," Gokudera suddenly stepped forward, grabbing her roughly by the arm. "I'm trying to fix my own mistakes, isn't that enough of a reason?" Every time she struggled, he simply jostled her harder, as though he could shake his words into her skull. "I did this, and it's hurt the Tenth, so I need to take responsibility!"

"Responsibility?" She glared at him, planting her palms against his chest as she forced him away, wrenching herself out of his grip. "What do you know about responsibility? You ran away. Tenth, Tenth, Tenth…that boy is the first time I've ever seen you do anything for anyone other than yourself!" The harshness of her words was enough to make him let go.

"The Tenth…has made me a better person…" The bomber muttered, staring at the ground. "If you would just let us, let me-"

Shaking her head, Yuri took several steps back, flinging her arms out to her sides. "Look at me! Look at me!" Her face grew red and her features twisted as she fought to control her emotions, her anger along with her anguish. "What do you want me to say? 'You did this to me'? Fine! You did this. I'm here because of you. Is that what you want to hear from me?"

"You are just…" Gokudera growled, hands clenching into fists as he fought to suppress his own anger and frustration. "I never asked you to follow me!"

"Your father was worried, your sister was worried, everyone was worried," Her eyes squeezed shut as she screamed the words. "Worried about you! You were always careless and reckless-!"

"But what did that have to do with you?" Gokudera snapped back harshly. "What made that your business?"

"…" With the conversation escalating like it had been, the sudden silence felt deafening as Yuri stared at him, her lips pressed into a thin line. She didn't look angry anymore, nor did she look bitter or resentful. She had the wide-eyed stare of a person that had been shocked into silence, slapped across the face. Tsuna couldn't understand it, but he felt like he could see her heart breaking.

"Well, forgive me for ever thinking we were friends." She whispered, clenching her jaw as the tears she had been holding back finally slid down her cheeks, her lips trembling while she fought to maintain her composure. Taking a deep breath, she pulled her shoulders back and roughly brushed her tears away with the back of her hand.

"Don't worry, young master Hayato," The title was mocking this time, the words a fine blade with no other intention than to cause harm. "That was my own mistake. You were never responsible for me, and you still aren't. You're absolved. Now you can leave with a clear conscience, so just…go."

"Yuri," Tsuna finally stepped forward, placing a supportive hand on Gokudera's shoulder as he joined the conversation. "I don't…we can't blame anyone but Giordano for this. This isn't Gokudera's fault, and it isn't yours. I honestly want to help you, and not because I think you're weak or incapable of saving yourself. I'm doing it because you're my friend. Even if it's impossible, I'm willing to fight tooth and nail to-"

"To what end?" She cut him off. "What for? I don't care how noble your cause is; I don't want your pity, and I don't want your help. If you want to call me your friend, the least you can do is trust me to handle myself. From the moment you are born, your single largest responsibility is yourself. Always put your own well-being first, Tenth. Don't get tangled up in this for a reason as silly as trying to save a person like me."

"Are you saying you wouldn't try to help someone else?"

"I trust others to be smart enough to take care of themselves."

"If you knew someone else was suffering, would you honestly just stand back and let it happen?" Tsuna couldn't believe he even had to ask such a question. "You would just expect them to handle it on their own?"

"I would." Her response was so immediate, so instantaneous. Her gaze was steady, and she didn't even try to avoid his eyes. She wasn't saying something this horrible just to get him off her back. She truly meant it, and that thought alone was terrifying.

She was done crying. Her cheeks had dried, and her mask was back on, tighter than ever. A picture perfect example of cold stoicism, she began walking back to the brothel, wordlessly pushing between them as she marched forward. There was a heaviness to her stride, processional…like a martyr off to her execution.

With nothing left to say to each other, the boys could only trail after her, shoulders sagging under the weight of their own perceived failure. She had made it clear – she wouldn't be accepting any sort of help from them. Was it still worth it to try?

As they re-entered the brothel, Tsuna was struck by the silence. They had left the building in chaos, but were returning to an eerie and dark stillness. As Yuri pushed aside the curtains, a coldness settled in the pit of Tsuna's stomach. There were no customers within, but only a single line of women, all of them workers. A blonde man was pacing back and forth in front of them, muttering angrily under his breath. Before he could panic, Tsuna caught sight of his two friends standing off to the side, looking sheepish but no worse for the wear.

As they stepped in, the man's attention immediately snapped towards them, zeroing in on Yuri. Within two large strides, he was in front of her, the back of his hand cracking across her face.

All four boys automatically stepped forward with a mixture of indignant sounds, but he silenced them with a loud string of angry Italian words, grabbing the girl's arm and pulling her around roughly so that he stood between her and the boys.

"It's best if you leave," Yuri spoke up quietly from behind him. "You've caused enough trouble with the fight."

"He can't-!" Tsuna protested, but she was already cutting him off.

"'You don't think Giordano told me about you?'" Tsuna blinked for a moment, confused, before he realized the man was still yelling at the top of his lungs in Italian. She was translating, as though she were still his guide taking him on a tour of Italy. "'You Vongola brats can't do anything to me – you go ahead and tell that baby I know how empty his threats are, too. Now, get out!'" Her final words matched his in pitch and volume.

"This must be Benussi," Gokudera muttered quietly in Tsuna's ear. "He has to be talking about Reborn."

"Ah," Yuri's glare was venomous, and Tsuna knew he had long outstayed his welcome, but he could only see Benussi's fingers wrapped around her arm, his nails digging into her skin hard enough to draw blood. "So…what do we do?"

"…nothing." Tsuna turned to stare at the bomber in shock. Gokudera couldn't meet his eyes, but he continued speaking. "Tenth, we don't have any power here. She's too damn stubborn to accept your help. If we stay, we'll just be making things worse for everyone involved."

"…But I can't just…" He hated to admit it, but every single word was true. Tsuna didn't even put up a fight as Benussi shoved him towards the exit. Taking his lead, the other three boys followed him out, casting angry glares as they left. Glancing over his shoulder, Tsuna could barely see Benussi returning to Yuri, lifting his hand to deal another hard blow. Each time he struck and her head snapped to the side, the anger in her eyes flared to life like a flame being fed more firewood – but her hands remained limp at her sides. She would not protect herself. She would not accept help.

"He can't-! That was-! Oi, Sawada!" The boxer sputtered in outrage as they stood in the street, the door to the café shut and locked behind them.

"She can't stay there, Tsuna, you know that!" Yamamoto chimed in, his face devoid of the bright grin he was known for. It was rare to see the swordsman angry, which only drove the thorn deeper into Tsuna's side. "That was abuse! You saw that, didn't you?!"

"I know!" Tsuna yelled, curling his fingers into his hair.

"So, what are we going to do?"

"What can we?" Sitting heavily on the curb, Tsuna curled his knees into his chest and cradled his head in his hands. He was out of ideas, and had no will left to keep fighting. He had not felt so helpless in a long time. "There's nothing left to do…"

The next morning, Yuri didn't show up by the gates.

~2 Weeks Later~

Yuri marched down the hall, her feet landing so heavily her boots threatened to punch straight through the wooden flooring. She was furious.

She couldn't do this anymore. She just couldn't do it anymore, not after this.

"What are you saying? You mean you didn't know?"

Of course she didn't know, why the hell would anyone have bothered to tell her? This was the last straw, one of too many that had already broken the camel's back long ago. She was broken. She was so far beyond help now…she just couldn't fight anymore. What was the point in holding out hope if there was nothing left to believe in? She couldn't do it, she just couldn't do it, not after this. This was disgusting, unforgivable, and it was her own damn fault. There was no one to blame but herself, but she needed to blame someone.

Taking a deep breath, she threw the doors open, stepping into the wretched room she had come to know so well. The walls were a disturbingly suitable shade of red, reminding her of all the blood she had spilled as she was forced to recount each and every gruesome detail to her 'handler'. That's what that disgusting man liked to call himself, just like he enjoyed calling this horrid form of torture 'debriefing'.

"Ah, Yuri!" Giordano sat casually inside, lifting a glass of amber fluid in greeting like he did every time. A silent gloat, a sinister little signal that told her he had won yet again. "Another job well done! Come, come, take off your coat and let me get you a drink so we can properly celebrate this!" As he stood to pour another glass of liquor – which they both knew she wouldn't drink a drop of – she obligingly shrugged her coat off, leaving her arms and shoulders uncomfortably bare.

"My, you do look lovely when you clean up a bit, don't you?" He chuckled, bringing her glass over to her. "Don't get me wrong, you're just as fetching even when you're drenched in blood, but it doesn't hurt to run a comb through your hair every now and then, does it?" He lifted his hand to her head as he spoke, twisting the ends of her hair between his fingers. "I remember when you first chopped off your locks, like some homeless urchin out on the streets. Benussi certainly was furious, wasn't he? And then we got our first complaints from the customers, something about you binding your breasts with gauze?"

Capturing her chin, he forced Yuri to look him in the eyes, adopting an amused smile as she grit her teeth. "It was a noble attempt, I'll give you that…but there will always be men out there with such strange appetites. The more you try to look like a boy, the more oddities you'll draw out. You do understand that, don't you? Or are you really too dull to make the connection?" Setting his glass down on the desk beside them, he ran both of his hands down her arms with an appreciative sound. "There really is no denying that you're a woman, though, is there?"

It was always like this. Every single time, it was like this. She hated him. Yuri could feel the ugly emotion within her, black and sticky, clinging to every part of her being, infesting her very existence. Because of him, that hatred was directed at herself just as much as it was at him. All because of this disgusting, putrid man standing before her, running his hands down her shoulders, her arms, her hips; she wanted to claw the skin off wherever he touched…and there was no place he hadn't. He had no intention of letting her go. She was a fool to have ever believed otherwise, and now her naiveté had come at too great a cost.

"See, even though you're so unfortunate, so unwanted," His fingers made their way to her face, stroking her cheek and making her skin crawl. "Look at everything I do for you." Every single time it was like this. Every. Single. Time. "Why don't you do something to thank me every now and then, hm?" She couldn't do it anymore, she couldn't, she just couldn't. "Say 'thank you'," Fisting his fingers in her hair, he tugged her head backwards roughly as he brought his lips to her ear. "Say 'thank you, sir. Thank you for treating me so well.'"

"Hm…" Letting the corners of her mouth curl up, Yuri lifted her pistol and pressed it to his temple. "Go fuck yourself." She whispered coldly, squeezing the trigger.

"Excuse me, Ninth." Tsuna turned around with the others to get a glimpse of who was interrupting their second month's end debriefing with the Ninth. To his surprise, he recognized Schnitten in the doorway, the Ninth's own rain guardian. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but there's a situation that requires your attention."

"It can't wait?" The Ninth frowned as the man shook his head, casting a wary glance at the four boys. "Go ahead, then."

"I'll be brief," Schnitten bowed slightly, shuffling a few loose papers in his hands. "One of our members was murdered just a few hours ago – one bullet to the head, and four more to the chest. He's been identified as Arturo Giordano." Tsuna's eyes widened as he heard the name, and a quick glance at his friends showed they had come to the same conclusion as him. "We have the perpetrator in custody."

"Already?" The Ninth's eyebrows rose.

"It was an unusual situation. The culprit committed the act with two witnesses outside the door, and continued to fire shots even after they had entered. It was public, in broad daylight – everyone heard the shots, didn't even make an attempt to escape."

"Well, who was it?"

"A young woman, half-Japanese, named Yuriko." A quick glance from the Ninth was enough to tell Tsuna to keep his mouth shut – this was adult business – but Tsuna's fingers continued to dig into the surface of the desk.

"The punishment for murder committed in the first degree is execution, you know that, Schnitten."

"O-of course," The rain guardian looked hesitant, and Tsuna's jaw had nearly hit the floor, but the Ninth waved their attention back over to him.

"However," He enunciated, making sure they gave him the chance to talk. "This Giordano has already been marked as a potential threat to the family, a loose cannon. The girl may just as well have done us a favor. Nevertheless," Tsuna cut his sigh of relief short, holding what breath he had left as the Ninth continued on. "She's committed a crime against the Vongola. Put her in a cell and send an interrogator in. She better have a reason for this, and a good one at that. Restrict her food for three days and don't allow her any rest. I will allow non-fatal torture methods for now – keep the body and the mind intact, understand?"

"What?!" Tsuna exploded, standing so quickly his seat toppled over behind him, but he made no move to right it. "You can't-!"

"Tsunayoshi!" The Ninth's voice was loud and stern, scolding. "I expect you to handle this maturely!" Turning to Schnitten, he nodded for the man to leave. "You have your orders."

"Right away," With a bow, he turned to leave, and the Ninth waited for the door to shut behind him before continuing.

"Tsunayoshi-kun, I understand how you feel. In return, please try to understand my position." His voice lowered, taking on a more gentle tone, but Tsuna was still too agitated to sit back down. "This is the mafia. When one of your own is killed, it can be seen as an open declaration of war. You are expected to act, to retaliate accordingly. Not doing so will be seen as a sign of weakness, and other families will grow bolder if they see that. That means attacks, and attacks mean death – anywhere from one or two lives, to hundreds of them – all blood on my hands. Tsunayoshi, please understand, I need to do this in order to protect the family."

Tsuna's fists continued to tremble at his sides, and his lips were pressed into a thin line. He understood, but he didn't know whether or not he could accept it.

"Why can't you just…lie?" Yamamoto asked, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly. It was a suggestion that made him a bit uncomfortable, but he couldn't easily stand by and watch this happen.

"This family is much larger than you realize," The Ninth's eyes held too much sadness for one person to be burdened with. "No matter what precautions I take, there is no way to keep news from traveling by word of mouth. Even within this family that I need to protect, there are few that I can trust completely."

"That's…"

"Horrible? Yes, it is. But it's a harsh reality. Tsunayoshi-kun, this family needs you. The corruption of this family…you're the one that has the power to change it. I've chosen you as my heir for a reason."

"…but torture?" The word left Tsuna's lips as little more than a whisper. "You know she doesn't deserve that."

"Just three days," The Ninth replied. "She's fought and survived for this long. She's a strong girl. Three days, Tsunayoshi-kun."

Tsuna's head was nodding mechanically, but doubt was consuming him from the inside. Yuri had shot Giordano, in front of witnesses, just waiting to be captured. He desperately hoped he was wrong, but it sounded like she had been expecting an execution. It sounded like she had simply lost the will to live, and Tsuna didn't know how he would be able to bring that back for her.