Author's Note:

You guys still here? Great! You know, when you compare the dangerous situations Tsuna and his Guardians encounter, and how they felt about them, they seem to be having it easy. Well, I believe being in the Mafia should be alot more difficult and painful for any individual, and I hope to show that in the chapters of this story. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter as well!

Chapter 1: The Man With Bushido!

As I walked down the bustled stone streets of Venice, I tried to keep my head high with a smile on my face, but was ultimately unable to do so whenever the thoughts of my Famiglia came up. It was morning, and the markets of Venice was full of people shopping for the items they need. The sounds of their frantic actions were calmed only by the gentle swaying of the waves hitting the sides of the canals.

"Zanna Decimo, huh? Mafia boss of the Zanna Famiglia." I mumbled to myself amidst the crowded streets. I guess I was really distracted. I mean, I have no objections to taking up the position, but I remember how Dad mentioned the risks and dangers that came with it. "Dad..." I whispered out without much thought. It's... it's unfair.. I.. can't even remember exactly how he looks like anymore...

As I tried to reminisce about the memories I have of my Father, I find myself holding up the tear-shaped pendant hanging around my neck. It was a simple pendant, shaped like a single tear-drop or a drop of morning dew. Bone-white in color, it sparkled as I held it in front of me, sunlight passing through its translucent body. Suddenly, a certain memory burst forth in my mind, pulling and immersing me in a flashback.

It was the time when Dad first showed me that pendant.

My Dad and I were sitting in an open field. It was night-time already, and the chirping of crickets had us surrounded. I was about four years old back then, and.. and Mom recently died in an accident. I guess I was too young to understand the concept of death. I ran around the fields, happy that it was so cooling compared to daytime.

"Hey, Amato. Come here for a sec." I heard a voice calling me, and trotted my way towards the source. The man that was my Father sat quietly, staring up into stars. I may not havenoticed it, but I think Dad was actually crying at the time. As I sat down beside Dad, he wiped away his tears, and forced a smile on his face.

"Look, son." Dad whispered, as he raised the pendant he has always worn around his neck, his face obscured due to the fuzziness of my memories. "This is the pendant that brought Mom and me together." He said so forcing a happy tone to his voice. "I was really happy that a family heirloom brought us together back then." He continued with a laugh, thinking back to the past as he turned to look to the sky.

"Remember, protect your loved ones, because they can never be replaced." He said so as he patted my head.

"Even if it would cost you your life."

The memory then fast-forward to the point where I received news that Dad had disappeared. They say that it was a battle, one which all the members participated were killed. In the battlefield full of blood and strewn weapons, was the pendant. Untouched by the horrors of war and death. But, Dad was nowhere to be seen. Kiera then handed me the family heirloom, saying that it was mine now. She did not say a word back then, but I know she was upset too.

Suddenly, I'm pulled back abruptly into the present! I couldn't grasp exactly what was happening as a burst of adrenaline forced my legs to leap to the sides! Unfortunately, there stood a couple of teenagers, so I found myself crashing into the lot of them. I turned only to see a sniper bullet lodged deep into the ground at the point where I was heading! Though it was smoking, the bullet shot was no louder than the wind!

What the heck?! A bullet! Aimed at me?! Before I could finish my thoughts however, I was interrupted by another source.

"Hey kid! You're gonna regret tackling us!" It was then that I realized that I actually knocked some of the teenagers off their feet, most of them now pulling themselves up from the ground. "It seems somebody has a death-wish, huh?!" One of them roared, bringing his fists together. A mixture of snorts, laughter and yelling snapped me back to the current situation.

Darn. Didn't plan that out so well.

"Hey guys.. No need to start throwing punches, right?" I gave out with an apologetic look, raising my two hands in a sort of surrender position.

As I observed their looks and attires, they seemed about my age. Their faces however, were nothing similar. There were piercings here and there, and I could even spot tattoos on their body. Heck, they look more like they belonged to the Mafia than I do!

"A smart-ass, huh?!" Another one of them shouted, before charging and knocking me down to the ground with a thud.

"Ugh!" was the only response I gave out. Actually, it didn't hurt at all.

Should I retaliate? Hmm, but doing so may severely injure them. Always abide by the code, that's the way of the Zanna Famiglia. And the code is: never harm an innocent. Now that I think about it, them hitting me is definitely not innocent.

"That's it, get 'im!" Another guy shouted, signaling the start of the attack. Like a pack of lions following the alpha-male, they moved as soon as his words ended.

Oh boy.

"Thwack! Crack! Bam!"

As I opened my eyes and moved my elbows away from my face, I saw that which was to be expected, I guess. In front of me stood a single guy with neat, dark green hair, pulled back and spiked at their ends. He was in a stance reminding me of a character from a video-game. His position strong and proud. His expression stout and tough. He wore a regular red shirt, unbuttoned over his white A-shirt. Wristbands over each of his wrists. One by one, the delinquents lunged at him only to have their blows countered and they themselves thrown.

"By the code of the Bushido, I will not allow this to continue!" The guy declared so with such strength and fervor, I could have sworn I saw the hooligans flinch.

Me? I sat there, a smile drawing a cross my face. No, he's no stranger. In fact, he's my best friend. Although known to the streets as one of the toughest fighters in Venice, you'll find that no one is afraid of him. At least, not the ones who knows him. One of the few people with a mixed heritage of half-Italian, half-Japanese, his name is...

Sergio Endoh. The man with the Bushido spirit.

Throughout the frackus, Sergio's eyes hardly opened, and his actions can be compared to those slow, calming exercises the elderly do every morning. The thought would immediately be rectified when you hear the sound of bodies beating against the stone pavement though. In a few minutes, the group was either too embarrassed, tired, or injured to continue. They ended up leaving with only as much as a groan or too.

"What were you thinking?!" Sergio reprimanded me as we reached the school gates, only to receive my confused look. "Don't give me that, I saw you suddenly jumping and ramming against them!" He continued, closing his eyes and shaking his head from side to side.

"I was trying to catch a fly?" I slowly gave out the excuse as I walked through the gates. Well, I can't tell him what really happened, can I?

But, just where did that bullet come from?

Well, we've reached the end of another chapter. Was it good? I hope I conveyed the emotions well enough. Please review and give your thoughts on the story!