Summary: In this part, Gokudera relives more memories, and struggles to keep the flood of memories at bay, while Yamamoto begs her to let him help.

Bullets fly around me in every direction, and a few hit me, but I feel nothing. I know it's futile, but I continue to fight. I can't be taken captive. I'd rather die than be tortured; because I don't want to run the risk of letting the enemies know anything about our plans, but I also don't want to die. I grunt as a bullet slams into my shoulder, forcing me back onto my knees. This needs to end, and quickly, or I'm dead meat.

I wake, the taste of bile in my mouth, panting. It takes me a minute before I recognize my surroundings enough to calm down. White walls. White bed. Annoying beeping. Hospital room. I stare into the harsh white light, and try to calm my breathing. It was just a dream, it was just a dream, it was just a dream. I lie to myself to keep my sanity. But I know it's not working. I know what happened to me there was real, and I will be haunted by it for the rest of my life. For now, though, I just want to forget. I want to heal, get back to normal life, and then find a way to deal with the memories.

I jump when my door creaks open, and relax slightly when I see it's just Yamamoto. I'm still pissed he didn't at least try to come visit, even though he was under orders, but I'm not as mad as I originally thought. He's so easy-going and charismatic; it's hard to stay mad at him long, if at all.

He smiles when he sees me awake. "Hey," he says quietly. Then he notices my still panicked breathing and a frown creases his features. He sits down next to me and takes my hand. "Another memory?" he asks quietly, his thumb tracing circles on the back of my hand.

I look at him, surprised, and he shrugs. "I talked with your head nurse – she told me everything that's been going on this past year with your recovery."

I don't meet his gaze. "Yes," I whisper, barely audible. "It was another memory."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

I instantly stiffen and pull my hand away, saying nothing. He notices my fear and withdrawal and sighs. "You will have to talk about it eventually, Haya-chan," he says. "That's not something you can keep bottled up forever."

"Don't lecture me," I snap, scared. "I'm not going to talk about it, ever. Just… leave me alone." I fold my arms across my chest and turn away, trying to conceal my shaking.

He sits there for a moment more before he gets up and leaves, watching me. It's not until the door finally snaps shut I put my face in my hands, silently crying into my hands. I want to tell him, I really do, but I don't want to be sucked back into that hell. It takes a good five minutes before I finally calm down again.

My head nurse (I think her name is Camilla) walks in with my painkillers. I make a face, and she shakes her head when she notices. "Come on, Haya-chan, you need to take these if you want to get better."

"Che," I mutter. "They taste disgusting."

Camilla laughs, her white teeth flashing. "They do, don't they? But you need to take them, okay?"

I sigh and reluctantly take them from her, swallowing the vile pills with a grimace. "How much longer until I get out of here, Camilla?"

Her smile disappears and she looks troubled. "You should have been out of here by now, and in rehab. But your wounds… they're healing ten times slower than they should be. Do you remember being given anything? I know you don't like remembering, but this is important…"

I bite my lip and scan my memories quickly, trying to keep myself from being sucked into them. "I don't think so, unless something was in the water…" I shift slightly with a little wince, and look back at the ceiling, shutting out the memories behind hastily constructed walls.

Camilla nods once. "I'll talk with the doctor to see what we can do for you. But until your wounds scar over, I'm afraid you're stuck here." She looks at her watch. "I have to go check up on another patient. Hit the buzzer if you need me, okay?"

I watch her leave and then stare at the sheets covering my healing body. I was so strong, and yet it took next to nothing to reduce me to a drugged up mess. I vow to myself that as soon as I am better, I will train and train until I'm stronger than before, and even then, I won't stop. I clench my fists, ignoring the lines of pain that shoot up my arms, and grin. I will recover.

Days pass, and only Tsuna comes to visit. He updates me on what happened while I was in Italy – a few assassination attempts, a barely avoided war, and many other small details. I know he's still worried about my condition, but I practically beg him to tell me what went on – I want back in the loop as soon as possible.

On the twelfth day since my arrival in Japan, I have a meeting with the doctor now in charge of me, and he tells me that I am healing better than before, and it should only be two or three weeks until my wounds are completely closed. My heart swells with new-found hope that I had no chance of feeling back in Italy, and I dedicate all my time to my recovery and rehab. I ask my nurses that all visitors be turned away – I want no distractions as I finish up the healing process that has dragged on for far too long.

Searing pain jolts along my spine as the knife digs around, trying to pull out the bullet lodged right next to it. I scream into the bloody cloth held between my lips and try to keep my back relaxed. Whoever picked me up is clearly trying to help, but they aren't being nice about it. I hear a faint ping as the bullet hits the ground and sigh as the knife is removed. I feel myself rolled over, and I look on my rescuer for the first time.

His face is hidden in shadow, but he has broad shoulders and well-muscled arms. I stiffen when I see the insignia on his left shoulder – he belongs to an enemy of the Vongola. "Hello there, little girl," he says, and I try not to shiver at his voice. "I'll pick up a handsome reward from the boss for you… But first, I need you to tell me everything. If you refuse..." He raises the knife in his hand, and I try my best to conceal my fear.

I wake in a cold sweat, gasping for breath, startling Yamamoto, who is seated next to me. I cover my face with shaky hands, but he gently pulls them away, holding them in his, his brown eyes searching my green ones. I try to pull my hands away from his, but his grip is strong. "This needs to stop," he says quietly, still searching my face for answers. I open my mouth to say something, but he doesn't give me a chance. "I hate not being able to help you. I'm tired of you pushing me away. I'm not going to leave you to suffer alone, no matter the orders I receive. I want to help you. You can't keep shutting me out like this, Haya-chan." He pauses for a moment. "I love you too much to see you suffer like this."