Recap: During the Recruitment Test, Tsuna retrieves Fuuta and battles Mukuro, activating Dying Will Mode too late to properly defeat Mukuro. Reborn enters the fray just as Tsuna falls unconscious.
Chapter 6: Aftermath
Vongola's continued success is a point of interest for many. For their rivals, the National Crime Syndicate, it is a sore point; for the Allied Families, it is a reassuring one. This essay posits four reasons for their success. First, their members follow the code of the Omerta, and their activities are often restricted to these people. Secondly, the relative distance their consigliere maintains from the Family. The third point is their organizational structure and lack of an underboss. Lastly is their planting of political allies instead of using bribery to secure their influence on politics.
Unique in the modern Mafia, the Vongola Crime Family has generally had its members follow the code the Omerta. Since its establishment in 1889, Vongola has only had eight members turn state's evidence. Reliance on an external enforcement arm, Murder Inc., by the National Crime Syndicate results in a statistically higher number of turncoats as compared to that of the Allied Families, which generally use their own hit men. Even the smallest families in the Allied Families recruit hit men into their Family rather than rely on freelance hit men. Rare exceptions to this rule are specialists that belong to one Family but often accept hits from other Allied Families; although they are considered freelance within the Alliance and are still bound by Omerta. Even among the Allied Families, Vongola has few violations of the Omerta. The reasons for this are debatable and will be explored further in this essay.
The Consulenza Esterna Della Famiglia(CEDEF) is the organization that Vongola's consigliere has control over. Founded by Vongola Primo's Cloud Guardian, it has remained distant from Family affairs since the time of the Secondo. The CEDEF is primarily concerned about intelligence and generally holds very little power. Generally they only involve themselves with self-sustainability and the training or choosing of heirs. It is only when the Don Vongola is dead, unavailable or considered unfit to lead that the CEDEF steps in as second in command, though even then, this position is temporary. The structure of the Family ensures that this is possible. In many ways, the CEDEF acts like an independent family; it has its own hit men and power structure.
Aforementioned structure includes the lack of an underboss that is common to most mafia families. Instead, it is replaced by Guardians and a right hand. The right hand man is not a second in command; he deals with the day to day affairs of the family and acts much like a consigliere. This position requires the right hand to be an assistant and bodyguard, a capogime and a hit man. In other words, a man of rare and exceptional talent. For many other mafia families, the underboss is the heir. This is not true of Vongola which has a rather rigorous criteria for their heirs, which limits their choices greatly. Beyond the capogimes that most Families have, Vongola has Six Guardians of the Sky. The roles of these six individuals are varied and many; often, one of them hold the position of right hand man or capogime, sometimes they lead one of the organizations within the Vongola, be it the Varia, CEDEF or the like; or work as hit men under the Don's direct authority, or do not have an official position within Vongola apart from being a Guardian. When the CEDEF takes over major decision making during a crisis, the Guardians ensure that the day-to-day affairs of the Vongola occur as per usual; making them the underboss equivalent to the CEDEF during these times.
Vongola has consistently placed many of their number in top universities in Italy in order to gain the friendship and allegiance of future politicians. The current prime minister had, upon graduation from university, been exempted from military conscription by calling in a favor from Vongola, something he could only do due to Vongola contacts placed in his university*. Many other families view this as a risky investment; indeed, this is not possible for most others. Placing people whose loyalties are already secured into high positions in politics is only possible with Vongola's existing network of allies in the political sphere. But Vongola also invests a lot in putting these people there; their legitimate businesses provide scholarships for them and they are often assigned correspondence classes from the Institute for Organized Crime (IOC) in addition to training and grooming by professionals.
The interplay between these factors is complex and…
- Application for the Institute for Organized Crime in the year 2017, essay by Tsunayoshi Sawada.
Trident Shamal didn't like treating men. Partly because there was nothing he wanted to 'accidentally' grope during an examination, but mostly because men in the mafia tended to die very foolish deaths. Honor and duty were great things to die for, certainly, but the extremes to which mafia men went to often meant they threw themselves in the line of fire unnecessarily and died meaningless deaths under his care. Ordinary men were marginally better.
People who wanted to save lives shouldn't become doctors, his mentor told him once. He foolishly disregarded that and entered a profession where the shadow of death was inescapable and the light of life, rare and fleeting. He often felt as if he regretted it, but those rare moments when someone was brought back from the brink of death, was spared suffering, who smiled because of the things he did, the things he could do; those moments brought him back to his profession.
Shamal let out a low whistle at the state of the boy Reborn brought in. Bleeding from the head and covered in rapidly discoloring bruises, his wrist was in an odd angle that Shamal knew meant it was broken. But what really held his attention was the bright orange flame still burning on the boy's forehead.
"Wow, Dying Will Flames even while unconscious?"
Reborn unceremoniously dumped the boy on an empty bed, but Shamal noted that it was a lot gentler than it seemed.
"He was already in that state when he was conscious," Reborn commented absently, taking out his phone from his suit. "It's been fifteen minutes; he'll probably snap out of it soon."
Shamal got to work examining the boy; the only reason Reborn would be lingering here when he obviously had other things to do would be to ensure Shamal didn't skip out on his duties. And really, Shamal preferred not to stare down the business end of Reborn's gun.
"Still, fifteen minutes unconscious is no easy feat. Especially considering that he is what? Sixteen? Seventeen?"
His only answer was a shrug. "No idea. He's just some candidate."
While he was very tempted to point out the Reborn wouldn't stick around for just anybody, Shamal really liked not being in pain, so he kept silent. He was partway through checking the boy's head wound when the door burst open to reveal his former student, Gokudera Hayato.
Silver haired and green eyed, there was a certain exoticism in the boy's appearance that he got from his mother. Shamal said as much: "You look well. And almost identical to your mother; too bad you are missing the most important parts though."
He got a smack over the head for that, but it was well worth seeing the boy's face scrunch up like that again. "Fucking pervert," Hayato muttered, glaring at him hotly.
It was actually rather reassuring that Hayato could still give him that kind of reaction; the last time Shamal had met up with Gokudera Senior, the man was fretting over his son throwing himself into all sorts of high-risk missions. Shamal had been in the field long enough to know that reaction; it was the pattern of a hitman who had resigned himself to being used instead of seeking acceptance on his own terms. At the very least, Hayato was not too far down that road yet.
Inwardly scheming a way to get Hayato to stay with him for a couple minutes more, he almost missed the analytical look Hayato was giving to the patient. Reborn had, by this time, predictably faded into the shadows.
"Is he twenty-seven?"
Shamal raised a brow. "I hardly think so. He looks about sixteen to me."
There was a moment of dumbfounded silence before Hayato promptly exploded. "Candidate #027, you asshole!"
It was rather incredible how fast the boy on the bed bolted up, especially since Shamal had been fairly sure he would be out for another half day. But he sat straight up on his bed, eyes wide and brows furrowed, looking around in alarm.
The moment of panic passed and the boy seemed more confused than anything. "Did… did someone call me? …And insult me?"
Shamal could see Reborn trembling with suppressed laughter in the corner.
Spluttering, Hayato began his attempts to explain himself which came out as incoherent, wild gesturing that only served to bewilder the boy even more. Shamal simply shoved Hayato's head into a pillow of an unoccupied bed, letting a scowl cross his face.
"I don't usually treat men," he told the boy bluntly, "but someone called in a favor, so I'll do you this service." Shamal could already feel Reborn bristling from his corner at the idea of owing him for this.
"Did you lose consciousness when you first hit your head?"
"Are you Candidate #027?"
The boy blinked and replied very hesitantly. "No, yes?"
"Did you leave your phone with the hostage?"
"Do you feel dizzy?"
"Yes, no."
"Nauseous?"
"Well, which is it?"
"Um…"
Shamal snapped at Hayato. "Do you want him to walk around with an undiagnosed concussion?"
With Hayato properly chastised, Shamal was about to resume his questioning when the door flew open again.
"Oh for fuck's sake-!" Shamal began to swear, fully intent on exploiting the vocabulary he once taught Hayato, only to cut himself off when he realized he was in the presence of a lady.
A very startled young lady, if the expression on her face was anything to go by. Her body language was uncertain and her left ankle was in a cast. "S-Should I come back later?"
Shamal could have burst into song. Finally some estrogen in the endless sea of testosterone that was his medical van. "Of course not! You are always welcome here!"
The young lady visibly shrank away from him, but Shamal wasn't deterred. Plenty of women were shy and just needed a little nudging before they gave in. Or tried to shoot him in the balls.
"Oi, weren't you going to treat him, you pervert doctor?"
Shamal rolled his eyes, ambling back towards his patient. "Calm down Hayato. Boys should be able to bounce back from something as minor as a gunshot wound or broken bones."
'Bounce back', Tsuna mouthed incredulously over his shoulder as Shamal checked his heartbeat. Shamal would just pretend he didn't see that.
Hayato, Shamal could tell, was still rather mistrustful of the girl who introduced herself as Chrome, but seemed warmer towards Tsunayoshi. Shamal almost smiled at the conversation taking place in his medical van; this was not the conversation of mafioso, but people of the same age who happened to run into each other. There were no manipulations and subtle threats, no implied insults and attempts at dominance.
"I'm studying international law at the University of Florence," Tsuna told them. "They said all candidates were welcome, regardless of their occupational status, so…"
"I'm doing a correspondence course in Theology," Chrome offered shyly. "I think a lot of people doing this test are from the university; it is fairly close to the testing site and anyone older is usually already in a Family."
Hayato nodded. "I'm thinking about doing my Masters in UniFl, but it'll have to depend on where the Allied Families decide to send me."
But Chrome and Tsuna turned to look at him in interest. "A Masters in what?"
"Probably theoretical physics. I've got a Bachelor's in Physics and Mathematics, but that was the UK, so I don't know about the language transition."
"But isn't most of it in numbers and mathematical symbols? I don't think…"
It was nostalgic, really. Hayato and Chrome were in the mafia, but were not so far in that they couldn't immediately transition out of it. Chrome had her activities restricted to bodyguarding, according to her file and Shamal knew for a fact that Gokudera Senior deliberately kept the more dangerous assignments from reaching Hayato out of fear that the boy would completely lose himself.
They were strangely comfortable with each other, although Shamal supposed that a life threatening experience did tend to make people closer, especially when you were fighting on the same side. It was warm, contented and normal.
But all of that would fade. Normal didn't apply to anyone who lived in the mafia. Being soft enough to try and establish a place like that with a foot still in the underworld was tantamount to suicide. It was with this thought and a heavy heart that he kicked all three of them out, leaning back and drawing out a cigarette.
"Normal, huh…"
"Don't get ahead of yourself, Shamal." If Shamal were any less experienced he would have given a visible reaction; he had completely forgotten that Reborn was there. "That kid won't be normal by the time I'm done with him."
Shamal gave him a crooked smile from around his cigarette. "Normal kids don't seek the bloodshed of the mafia. It's already too late for him."
Tsuna only stayed in the hospital for forty-eight hours, but he got a large number of visitors considering he had only been in the country for three days and none of that number was his family. Presumably, he was only here as a precautionary measure. At least, that was what Doctor Shamal had said as he leered at Chrome. Personally, Tsuna wasn't very sure if he really was a doctor or not.
But Gokudera had assured him that Shamal was considered the best doctor in the mafia.
Gokudera was a strange sort of person. Tsuna knew that Gokudera was considered rather unwelcome to most people in the mafia. Or, at least, the more conservative people. He wasn't as hostile towards Chrome and himself during their brief conversation, but there was a sense of distance, like he didn't really trust them. Tsuna supposed it was normal; they were trying to join a crime family, after all.
He didn't expect to receive gifts, but receive them he did. The Vongola Family and the Allied Families' Recruitment Test Examining Committee each sent a fruit basket, identical to the only other person in his ward. The Cavallone Family had sent one too, presumably because he had helped rescue their charge. Both Chrome and Lancia included their own little note with that basket, generally just thanking him for his help. It was business and bloody business, but it still felt kind of nice.
His first visitor was a little boy. Around fourteen, Tsuna guessed, but European children seemed to age faster than Japanese ones.
"I'm Fuuta. Fuuta de la Stella." Tsuna was slightly ashamed to realize he had not recognized the boy. Truth be told, the entire time he spent with him was generally occupied with fear and terror and, towards the end, blood. He was also unconscious and slung over Tsuna's shoulder for most of it.
The boy's arm was in a cast, as was one of his legs. A tall Italian man in a dark suit pushed his wheelchair into the room, then left, presumably to guard the door.
"Hello, Fuuta. Uh, here, have some fruit!" Tsuna clumsily exacted an apple from one of the baskets, which Fuuta took, but didn't bite into.
The awkward, tense silence extended and Tsuna desperately searched through his brain for appropriate conversation material for thirteen year olds in the mafia. Absolutely nothing came to mind.
"I-I wanted to thank you," Fuuta started, looking hesitant, his sentences a little incoherent. "I'm an informant and I guess, well, I knew you were going to. But I didn't-didn't think that… Why did you do it?" Fuuta looked up now, eyes wide and a little teary. "You could have died."
Because the little informant had always worked behind the scenes; this incident was probably the closest he had ever come to death.
"But I didn't. And I don't regret it. I don't think I would even if I died."
Fuuta wide eyes got even wider. "You-you would, I guess. Even if- But even so, I just…"
There was something that needed to be said here, Tsuna knew, but Tsuna didn't know what. He only knew he couldn't be the one to say it.
"When-when you get there, I'll give you my pledge**. As it is, It's kind of difficult to kiss you so…"
Tsuna blinked, uncomprehending. But this was probably some sort of strange European tradition; didn't they kiss each other on the cheek in greetings? "Uh, thanks? But a kiss is really unnecessary."
It was much later he learnt that Fuuta took this to mean that his promise of a pledge of loyalty was accepted. In the present time, Tsuna just returned the bright smile the boy gave to him and watched as he called for his guard and exited the room.
"Strange kid," he muttered to himself.
His second and third visitors were people he didn't even expect to be in Italy.
"Sasagawa?"
Sasagawa Kyoko was the school idol and the penultimate girl next door, without actually living next door. The male population of Namimori had been devastated when they heard that she, along with her best friend Kurokawa Hana, were moving out of Namimori for college. But Tsuna never imagined it would be Italy of all places.
She looked equally shocked. Kurokawa Hana, whom had been in the same class as him throughout high school looked more wary-confused than Kyoko's surprised-puzzled.
Hana narrowed her eyes at the fruit basket on the table by Tsuna's bed. "You are joining the mafia?" Typical Hana with her merciless bluntness and no-nonsense manner.
Tsuna froze. He wasn't sure how he ought to answer the question. Technically, he would be violating protocol, but Hana obviously recognized the gift baskets, which meant she probably knew about the mafia… Better safe than sorry, he decided, trying for a mien of confusion.
"Oh come off it." Hana didn't even try to hide the fact that she was rolling her eyes. She stepped towards him aggressively, to which he automatically cringed at. He cursed at himself inwardly, but it couldn't be helped; ten years of reflexes honed by bullies wasn't something that could be easily overridden. Hana had already grabbed a card off of the basket nearest to her.
Tsuna lunged as best he could without getting off the bed or seeming too anxious, but Hana planted her hand in his face without even looking at him. She read off the card: "Condolences and congratulations blah blah blah… Examining Committee for the Allied Families' Recruitment Test. Huh. Didn't take you to be the type, Dame-Tsuna."
Tsuna flushed at the old nickname.
"Things happened," he mumbled evasively. "How did you know?"
Kyoko and Hana exchanged a look. They seemed to come to some sort of silent consensus, then Kyoko pointed at the only other patient in Tsuna's ward. "This is my older brother," she gestured.
Tsuna studied the tanned, white haired teen. He didn't really look Japanese, but neither did Kyoko. Tsuna had heard stories about the elder Sasagawa sibling and his boxing club, but had, thankfully, never come across him before. Come to think of it, the nurse who put him here had mentioned that the other patient was drugged to keep from hurting himself and exacerbating his fractured arm, and to call her immediately if he woke.
While he had thought it seemed a bit excessive to drug someone to sleep for a fracture, the stories that went about Namimori about how 'extreme' Sasagawa Ryohei was seemed to indicate this was a good decision.
Tsuna mentioned Ryohei's condition to them and they both took it in stride. Kyoko mentioned that she called ahead to tell the hospital that, in the event he was hurting himself, to proceed with that course of action.
Tsuna could only gape at that. "He must get into a lot of trouble, huh?"
Kyoko shrugged helplessly while Hana snorted in derision. "That's an understatement; this idiot basically shouted his way into the Recruitment Test."
Tsuna raised a brow; getting into the Recruitment Test generally meant you had to be recommended by someone; in Tsuna and Mochida's case, Byakuran had contacted the Giglio Nero Family. They made the appropriate small talk, all parties in the conversation careful not to say too much. At the end of their conversation Tsuna wondered what they were hiding from him.
Tsuna's fourth visitor also came to visit Sasagawa Ryohei.
"Hey, Tsuna. I didn't know you were sharing a room with this boxing freak."
A large grin answered his statement. "I think they put me with him because we are both Japanese."
Tsuna learnt that Gokudera hadn't been admitted because he hadn't sustained many injuries. "I'm a mid-range fighter," he told Tsuna. "It's sometimes seen as a bit cowardly in the mafia, but it takes a lot more precision to handle explosives without hurting your allies or yourself compared to close-range combat or sniping. Of course, accidents still happen, but I'm probably in the top thirty when it comes to explosives."
Tsuna learnt, when Fuuta joined his team (he adamantly refused to call it a hit squad), seeking to fulfill the promise he made that very day, that Gokudera was actually in the top three.
"I've only got experience with handguns," Tsuna confessed. "I'm alright at close-range fighting compared to civilians, but that probably doesn't mean much in the mafia. If I had a strength I'd say it be sneaking around?"
Gokudera and himself spent the rest of the time talking about the results from the Recruitment Test. By Gokudera's estimation, Tsuna, Ryohei and himself ought to have gotten in, no problem.
"They'll do interviews and aptitude tests to see what you are suited for and what you prefer. Sometimes, various Families will make you offers after the results come in and it is up to you to decide which offer you want to take up. Other times the Examination Board might recommend or directly put you to certain jobs, but unless you request their advise, that is usually rare. Usually only happens to heirs and the insanely powerful or difficult to manage. Some Families deliberately keep away from candidates to avoid conflicts with other Families."
"I see. Do you know when we'll get summons?"
Gokudera nodded. "I've actually already gone for my interview. I don't have to do the aptitude test since I've been in the business for so long though. You'll probably get yours soon enough."
That was when Tsuna's fifth visitor arrived.
Hibari Kyouya swept in with a grace that shouldn't be possible when his left leg was in a cast. Actually, he probably shouldn't even be walking. The dark haired man had Kusakabe Tetsuya following dutifully behind him.
There was a short pause in which Hibari glared at Gokudera, silently demanding that he get off the only available chair, and Gokudera glared back, silently telling Hibari to piss off. Tsuna was beginning to panic when Kusakabe dragged the chair from beside Ryohei's bed to the end of Tsuna's bed. Hibari seemed to find this acceptable, since he sat down without comment, but Tsuna thought that might have to do with the greater distance from other people this new seating arrangement provided.
There was a long period of silence in which Gokudera was only kept silent by the looks that Tsuna and Kusakabe gave him as Tsuna gathered his courage to speak.
He chose his words carefully and made sure to use Japanese, as Hibari had previously indicated that he favored. "Not to be intrusive or ungrateful, but to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?" Tsuna was secretly proud that he didn't even stumble over the word 'pleasure'.
Hibari glared. "You are a student of Namimori." Tsuna didn't know if he ought to be touched or horrified out by this sentiment. It was rare that anyone felt that kind of solidarity for their alma mater, but this was Hibari.
Wisely, Tsuna chose not to comment on that. Instead he went for the, in retrospect, slightly confrontational but factual statement of: "Actually, I've graduated."
The look of abject horror on Kusakabe's face was enough indication of the incorrectness of this response. He really didn't need Hibari's darkening countenance to reinforce it. In fact, he could really do without it.
"Any graduation ceremony without the Head Prefect present," Hibari hissed, "is unacceptable and will be rendered invalid by the time I return to Namimori."
Tsuna really didn't know what to say in response to this. Hibari had basically said that anyone who graduated in the past three years ought to be stripped of their high school diploma. In an effort to return back to the land of sanity, Tsuna decided to avoid the rest of that mine field. Just one landmine was quite enough for him, thank you very much.
So he pinched Gokudera's leg, cutting off his exclamation of "what kind of deranged-" with a pained yelp. Come to think of it, it probably wasn't so weird that Gokudera knew Japanese since he was a quarter.
"So you are here to check on Sasagawa-san too?"
Hibari and Kusakabe looked at him with identical, frozen expressions. Tsuna wondered at the reaction, then pointed at the bed on the opposite end of the room.
Hibari quickly shot out of his chair and Kusakabe made for the door. Hibari glared at Tsuna, though the latter noted that the gaze was less intimidating and more restless than usual. His next words were punctuated with a sort of desperate determination that Tsuna had never expected from him."I was never here. And I will never join the boxing club. Ever."
With that statement, Hibari and Kusakabe left the hospital room in what could only be described as retreat. Gokudera only laughed.
Tsuna didn't get summoned for an interview first. Instead he got a letter and a form. The letter told him to fill in the form and that his answers would determine if he had a place in Vongola, as well as instructions on where to send it. The form itself consisted of several pages. Some of the questions were mundane, like his name and nationality, though they also had a separate column for 'if current name is not birth name', which he supposed was reasonable given that he was in the freaking mafia.
He wasn't very sure about what to put under 'criminal affiliation/organization (if any)' but eventually settled for 'Allied Families' Recruitment Test'. The form got progressively weirder from there.
Write an essay of no more than 2000 words on a point of interest to you with regard to the criminal underworld.
Write an essay of more than 2000 words on the life of a criminal and what can be learnt from it.
Write an essay of no more than 2000 words detailing your aspirations, motivations and…
It took him a couple of days, but he finished just before the deadline. The letter tucked into an envelope, he strolled the streets of his neighborhood, wondering about his future. His assignment from Milliefiore was to infiltrate the Allied Families; the rest would come later. As it was, he wasn't supposed to make contact with his superiors unless there was an emergency.
Moles had it difficult, he supposed. But he had to stop thinking like one now and just immerse himself into the mafia. It was difficult though; often Tsuna wondered why anyone would join the mafia. Voluntarily joined their bloodied world and stain their hands.
But, Tsuna mused, he didn't even know why he decided to join law enforcement. Sure, Uni picked him up, but she never forced him to join the Milliefiore, never asked him to become a mole. He had volunteered himself. He didn't need to be in this, possibly the bloodiest part of Europol, to feel he was doing his part in making the world better or to catch up to his father. He didn't need any of it, but something still compelled him to throw himself into the shit work of Europol.
Maybe it was self destructive behavior, he mused. Just like the Milliefiore psychiatrist said during his evaluation. More likely, he thought to himself, he wanted to be useful. He didn't want to be 'Useless Tsuna' or 'Dame Tsuna', so he did work that made him indispensible. Even if it might kill him.
Tsuna's thoughts brought him straight past the post box and down the street. Snapping out of his thoughts, he supposed he might as well continue exploring his neighborhood. His accommodations, a tiny studio apartment in the poorer side of town, may be temporary before he could move into university dorms, but he would probably be there for a couple more weeks, at the very least.
There was a tiny sushi restaurant tucked into the corner of the street. Feeling nostalgic, the result of his thoughts from before, he decided to duck in.
The restaurant was brimming with people due to the lunch hour. Tsuna was wordlessly pointed to a single empty chair by the bar by a harried looking waitress. When he realized there was no menu, he frantically looked around.
"The menu is up there," a long fingered, tan hand pointed at the board overhead. "A bit troublesome, I have to admit."
"Thanks," Tsuna commented, turning to look at the helpful stranger. "I- What are you doing here?"
The tall, dark haired teen looked at him blankly for a moment before hesitantly venturing: "Dame Tsuna?"
The nickname really did stick with everyone who went to middle school together with him, Tsuna despaired. He plastered on a lopsided smile to hide his grimace and decided to overlook it. Passive agressively. "Sorry, I didn't mean to say it so rudely. I just didn't know you came to Italy," Tsuna told him. The Japanese words flew from his tongue automatically.
Yamamoto Takeshi gave him a blank look which soon faded into a wry smile. "I didn't know until two weeks ago either."
*A not so veiled reference to Silvo Berlusconi and Marcello Dell'Utri, for anyone who wants to look it up. At the very least, this scenario looks plausible, at least, according to their Wikipedia pages.
**This was ripped straight from The Godfather, where people kiss their Boss' ring during a pledge of loyalty. I have no idea if people in the mafia actually do so.
Some people were a bit confused by the way I worded certain things in the previous chapter; I've gone back to alter those parts. Some also pointed out mistakes which I've corrected as well. Thanks for pointing them out! :) I try for humor in parts of my stories, but unfortunately, it doesn't always come out as funny when read, so I still have trouble with that. So if you have any suggestions or comments, especially pointing out what you found lacking or good or what you look forward to seeing, I'd really appreciate it!