Disclaimer: Katekyo Hitman Reborn! does not belong to me.

Chapter 7

20 January 2015
Vongola HQ, Italy. 12:00 PM

When Haru Miura finally woke up, it was an instinctive measure to feel for her head.

Something was throbbing in her left temple. A headache. A very bad headache blurred the remainder of her memory of what happened before she fainted. Licking her lips, she tasted her own saltiness. Sweating. She was sweating. Heavily and unlady-like. Her muscles felt strained, and the overall feeling was akin to being whooshed away by a wave only to return back to shore, relatively sore and full of sodium. She struggled to get up, and after two tries she gave it up, letting herself be swallowed by the cushions.

The calm lasted for a quarter of an hour.

Fifteen minutes later, she felt her blood boiling.

Seething in anger and eager for justice, she opened the nearest door she saw and strode in. She was blind to the stationed guards around the room. Her limbs made her wobble, but it didn't matter. A part of her knew she wasn't kidnapped, only tricked. Only pranked, on a level she couldn't ignore.

No. Kidnapping was a seldom occurrence inside a fortress. She was the Don's new favorite here. It just wasn't possible. The security couldn't be that foolish to let tramps in given the Don's condition.

The occupants of the table were silenced by her entrance. One person in particular was stunned to see her standing upright. This one stood up, and came to her aid. The others were astonished, but kept to their seats, necks craning, but mouths closed.

"Miss Miura!"

The voice was familiar. The face, she couldn't mistake it, was Innocenti's. She focused her eyes on him, and found that squinting made everything clearer. He helped her up. She could hear a few more things on how she shouldn't be up, and shouldn't be walking, but it was all lost. Her attention was caught by the indifferent stare of her father, and the other man's sinister smirk.

Verde.

A full-grown Verde.

The mad scientist waved at her in a mocking fashion, but oh? What was this? Ha, the last laugh was hers. His lower lip was cut. His clothes were wrinkled, and his collar seemed fresh from a French knot. There was no question. He was responsible for it, and he paid his due. In his adult form, Innocenti and her father gave him what was coming.

The anger was subsiding, but another emotion pooled inside her stomach. She frowned, confused of her warring senses. She was supposed to be pleased, but guilt quickly came over her. Already, she was regretting thinking of her earlier thoughts. Her father called for her, and immediately the guards brought an extra seat.

"Dad, Haru-chan doesn't understand–"

"If you want us take you seriously, speak properly."

The brunette immediately stiffened. Third-person speech had no place with her father's unearthed no-nonsense attitude.

"You must forgive me for my actions, Miss Miura."

Verde was not fooling anyone. He didn't repent. All she had from him was this poor apology. There was no assurance that he wouldn't do it again. She looked at Innocenti and her father, but the former was impassive as if ordered by the latter not to interfere. She frowned.

"Through my ventilators?" Haru asked though she needed no answers. She already knew it. She just wanted to see the expression on their faces at her finding it out on her own. Perhaps, it wasn't that hard to guess for she received no praises. Verde nodded at her, and smiled sickeningly sweetly. "Alright. I forgive you."

This remark seemed to do it though. Innocenti didn't smile, but his eyes looked at her approvingly. Her father did the same, only with more pride. Verde chuckled, clapping his hands. It was then did Haru notice that all three of them had broken wrists, which was puzzling because Innocenti had recovered from his a few days ago. Apparently, the mad scientist read through her.

"What? You are concerned Miss Miura? Worry not. This is the small price we three pay for enduring each other's presence." Verde wagged his ringed fingers, and placed the injured hand on his heart. "But that is how we operate, and there is little to be done. Come, what had become of you these recent months?"

She was taken by this.

No. She wasn't fantasizing that he was actually concern for her. However, he was asking. Surely, he expected an answer. But why? To brood? To rub it in her face how the Vongola had pushed her aside, and remembered her last? Obviously, he liked seeing her ponder. He chuckled again.

"Alright. I'll tell you what. I shall answer it for you since I am such a good man."

"You failed her, Verde," Innocenti said coolly. "And here I thought she was safe."

"What? I cannot believe you, Innocenti. I most certainly did not fail my dearest Haru." The playful seriousness of this remark made young Miura's stomach churn. She preferred him shunning her than this fake kindness. "She's the daughter of a dear friend. Do you believe I will put her in harm's way?"

"You most certainly have. How do you explain the gas? And Xanxus?" Her father questioned without correcting Verde's claim. The words echoed in her head. "Truly, Verde, it's beyond you."

"In regards to Xanxus, I thought it a good joke," Verde grinned. "As to Haru, I did it to warn you how foolish it was to bring her here," the green scientist reasoned. "Your decision spoils your brilliance, my friend."

"I came here because Innocenti insisted I help the Vongola. Things got out of hand because you didn't take your job seriously," the older Miura grunted displeased. "You are the one originally affiliated with them. Yet you refuse to be of service to them. Why is that?"

"Help the Vongola after the Elven struck a nerve?" Verde's eyes glinted with passion. "I did better than help them, I tracked the perpetuators, and put a bullet in their eye sockets. It was marvelous."

Haru Miura didn't tense because of the committed murder, but rather because the Elven was mentioned. Hearing the name sent ripples under her skin. The fear was there. Far greater than the fear she reserved for the mad scientist who was now in eloquent stupor.

"Those fiends are the worst kind of animals, you hear me? Do you know where they get their money from? I've done my research. Their fucking pimps."

Mimicking the reaction of its occupants, the table recoiled. Haru remembered Lal's brief lecture on mafia ethics. Back then, the brunette found the irony amusing. Mafia and ethics seemed to her then, unrelated. The more she was integrated to the family though, the more she understood what the commander meant. Mafia without ethics was crime. Ethics with mafia were ideals. From what she recalled, drugs and prostitution were taboo. In other words, against mafia ethics.

"Whorehouses. Night clubs. Prostitutes. The Elven should be barred from ever stepping a foot here in Italia. They're ruining the country. Bribing politicians to bend at their will, they think they can buy anyone off the market these day," Verde gritted his teeth. "I would give my life to destroy that empire. I have no qualms in opening the gates of hell myself, but I want to make sure Lucifer gets us all."

Haru Miura didn't mind the language, but she knew her father was a prude man. The older Miura stared at the wounded Italian, and waited for him to compose himself. Madness was seeping from Verde. Madness he so desperately tried to prevent from showing. He breathed hard, and leaned against his chair. With coolness, he adjusted his spectacles as if nothing happened.

"Did you finish them?" The casualness of her father's tone did not escape her.

Verde grinned at him coldly. "Much like you, I grazed the shoulder, but barely hit the head."

"You should've invited us when you made your calls," Innocenti remarked indifferently. "We could've ended it there."

"They're magicians. I needed to move before their vanishing act." Verde sighed and continued, sounding duller than before. "Besides I knew you had your businesses to go about. I didn't expect you'd answer my summons."

"I would if I knew the Elven were involved," said Koenig.

"With your temper and my lack of care, it'd be suicide." Haru thought she heard Verde's voice softening. The scientist gestured to her and Innocenti. "And yet terrifically, it just might work. Innocenti will be friendless. Haru will be fatherless. But come. Admit it. We'd do the world a service if we rid it of that clan."

"The next time they stick their heads out, I want to be informed." Haru Miura flinched sensing the derision that laced her father's words. Verde nodded at him, lost in a train of thought none of them were the slightest concerned about.

Elven. They always had the element of surprise in their attacks. Always, Lal Mirch, would emphasize. They were magicians, as Verde said. Very dramatic actors who gave artists a bad name. They aimed for the grand performance, for the audience impact. They would blow up the home of a boss, ruining decades of hard work, and would just disappear without a trace. The crime scene would be painted in the most deplorable shade of red for people to know the little elves had been at work.

Her mother had been one of their victims during the big cleansing. In Spain, France, Italy, Japan, and Germany—sixteen random bystanders were killed on the spot to commemorate the sixteenth birthday of their future boss. It was barbaric. And though the gunmen were eventually executed, no one from the family was caught. The curtains were closed for the Elven family for another decade. The standing ovations were inside Manor houses, behind closed doors, from aged Dons who feared for the young.

It was the performance of a lifetime, but no one wished for an encore.

Haru Miura sat perfectly still in her contemplations. She wondered if her friends had 'hit the head' of the Elven family. Iemitsu Sawada wouldn't have taken extra precautions had there been no threat. Her short stay here taught her enough of Tsuna's father to know that. Maybe they grazed an ear, she thought. They were crippled but not dead. Slow but still moving.

"Haru."

Her head darted straight to her father. He didn't look pleased, but that didn't bother her. He was hardly pleased nowadays. It was Verde who laughed. Innocenti shook his head with the manners of a man among neighbors.

"She didn't hear me," Verde said with a growing grin. There was iciness to it, but also mischief that she couldn't quite comprehend. "I said I have a lot of debts to settle with you. Your godfather had been absent for quite a while."

20 January 2015
Vongola HQ, Italy. 3:45 PM

Ili-Ili Tulog Anay
Wala diro imong Tatay*,
Kadto tienda bakal papay
Ili-Ili Tulog Anay.

Everyone had a song.

Hayato Gokudera believed in this.

But if ever the time would come for him to doubt, he knew he simply ought to remember the day Haru's voice travelled through the walls of Vongola Manor; only needed to remember the goose bumps that spread over his skin as quick as the Bubonic plague in Medieval Europe because damn that stupid woman could sing.

It was a shy and sensitive rendering of what seemed to be a lullaby. What language it was, he didn't know, and if her singing was anything to go by, she was barely fluent in it whatever it was. But he knew it was hers. People didn't sing like that unless it was an important song for someone equally important. For brownilocks, it was probably both.

Entranced, Xanxus rose from the couch. Gokudera turned to him, but before he could say anything, the Varia leader rose up, and went away without a word. The three-fourth Italian wasn't eager to go after him. Gokudera had spent all day looking after the man because of Lal's orders. Xanxus inhaled a drug of some sort that left him knocked out for a good few hours. Even if this break only gave the storm guardian a few minutes, he gladly took it.

Haru's song hanged suspended in thin air. The piece was short but it lingered. It stayed there as if it had commanded the silence. Though Gokudera waited, nothing came. A few more minutes passed before he heard the sound of steady footfalls; each step getting fainter and fainter till it was no more. The door creaked open, and not a whisper did he hear from the room beside him.

He wondered how long until he would it hear it again; that rustic provincial hymn followed by footsteps and creaking doors. Perhaps if he knew it would take three years to be reunited with that song, he wouldn't have looked forward to it. Wouldn't have anticipated it had he known it foretold tragedies of Haru's doing.

Hayato Gokudera took a seat on the couch, and savored the quiet. How long until the next clock would tick off? After the bombs detonated inside this house, he found a new appreciation for the silences in between the day.

He breathed harshly, forcing all pains and worries out his system. Gradually, he began to lose consciousness. But perhaps, it was better this way. For at the very instant he surrendered to the quiet, the people in the other room won over it.

Had he been awake, he would've heard something not meant for his ears.

"She can't stay in Japan."

23 January 2015
Vongola HQ, Italy. 5:40 PM

Iemitsu Sawada rarely succumbed to absolute rage.

Sad fact was, he did have these less stunning moments.

When Ryohei Sasagawa and Kyoya Hibari found themselves inside Iemitsu's office, both didn't know what to expect. The older Sawada was known for his ways in battle, not for his paper works and reasoning skills. The stark contrast of the paneled windows and wooden desks to the heavy man in camouflage was nearly tangible. No, General Sawada wasn't paid enough to deal with this. His current salary didn't even come close.

"The first time I allow you two to go on these patrols, you come back looking like this."

The two teenagers might be a few years ahead from the rest of their clique, but that didn't mean they knew any better. Just look at them, cut and bruised all over. So their current wounds weren't enough? They just had to go searching for more, didn't they? Fortunately, the guards came in just in time inside the bakery. Iemitsu Sawada felt a headache coming in. Military school did not prepare him for babysitting.

"Do you have any idea how dire the situation was?" the General asked angrily. "The both of you could've been killed."

"Eh, we were extremely careful Sawada-san—"

"Careful? You call that careful, Sasagawa?" Oh, wow. The headache arrived right on time. "You walked inside a rival family's territory. Then beast boy here went amok."

"I would've bit them to death," Hibari muttered.

"Sure you would. And once you were done, you could drag your friend's corpse back to the Manor. God knows how many coffins we have left unused," Iemitsu snapped, showing them his left fist. "This is supposedly the size of your heart."

"It is?"

"No, Sasagawa, your anatomy got it wrong. This is the size of your brain." Iemitsu Sawada had a lot more to say really. But the headache was getting worse, and someone had been knocking, and you know what? Scratch that. "Just stay here. You insist on being kids. You'll be punished like kids. The both of you are on time out."

The door slammed shut behind the General. Inside the room, the teenagers kept still on their seats. Ryohei Sasagawa sighed, relieved that the worst part was finally over. Also, they were in one piece. Thank goodness for that.

"What in the world were you doing?" Hibari asked furiously. "You could've died!"

"Hibari-san was behind me. Besides we could totally take them," Ryohei answered confidently. "The guards were just extremely overprotective."

How can you be so sure, Herbivore? Hibari leant back on his chair with a defeated breath. There was no getting to the boxer. This was all nonsense. The cloud guardian's eyes fell on the pink box on the floor. All that trouble for that? Ryohei smiled at him before picking it up.

"I just pointed to the ones on display. I bought all of Kyoko-chan's favorites, and Tsuna-san's, and Lambo-kun's. I didn't know what Hibari-san wanted so you can eat whatever you like."

It was a box of assorted cupcakes.

Unbelievable.

24 January 2015
Vongola HQ, Italy. 11:00 PM

It took a while for Takeshi Yamamoto to realize the truth.

When he did, he took the blow like all sad things that were unwelcome, but inevitable in life. He muted himself the best he could, and stayed away. To think, he'd say. Though he knew it was useless to ponder on things like this. What was there to think about? The game was still on. Only it wasn't a game. It never was. The rules were hardly changed. The goal? Survive with the least casualties.

"Beautiful isn't it?"

Yamamoto didn't need to look. He knew from the hair standing on the nape of his neck who it was. Mukuro loved a good entrance. What better way to do it than this? Walk on the path of least resistance, and feign normalcy.

"I always thought it was inappropriate to place the headquarters of a mafia clan in the heart of Italy," Mukuro said with a bitter laugh. "We're ruining the beauty of Venice."

The rooftop of Vongola Manor for all intended purposes was seldom used. It was here did these two guardians found themselves overlooking the night lights of the city as it slept. Yamamoto pulled his knees closer to him, wondering whether his company was an illusion. He frowned, of course it was. Mukuro had never been warm towards him.

"You think I'm not real?"

"Are you?" asked the swordsman with uncharacteristic indifference.

"My, my, you really are quite broken," Mukuro bit back a chuckle, before gently slapping the rain guardian's left shoulder. "But I am."

Yamamoto winced at the casualness he was treated with. Mukuro was much too talented. The touch meant nothing. It didn't make any sense, really. What did it matter if it was an illusion or not? The bigger picture was that Mukuro was paying attention to him.

"If you're worried about what's going to happen, don't," Mukuro said knowingly. "It's not going to change anything."

"What are you doing here?" Yamamoto asked.

"Winding up a good toy," Mukuro grinned. "Hopefully, this plaything won't end up in bits."

"What do you—" Yamamoto stopped himself, realizing what the illusionist meant. "I'm not going to jump."

"I'm sure it sounded convincing in your mind," Mukuro replied with a shrug. "But you have a bad record. Reborn told me to stop by, and make sure you're in one piece."

"Because Reborn sees everything," Yamamoto said dismissively.

"Of course he does." Mukuro relaxed a little more, holding himself against the railing. "He believed in your potential. Are you here to prove him wrong?"

"You've got to be kidding me." Yamamoto figured he must've gotten this newfound haughtiness from Gokudera. "I came here didn't I?"

"The physical body is here, I believe. The rest of you? I think it's left in Japan."

"There is no rest of me," Yamamoto sighed. "This is all what's left."

"I see. Did we kill your humor too?"

Yamamoto laughed sardonically at this. Maybe they did. He stared at his company curiously, before poking Mukuro's shoulder. Undoubtedly, it wasn't an illusion.

"You are one twisted boy." Mukuro furrowed his brows before smiling. "I like it."

"You have a taste for all things twisted, bro."

"You are taking liberties, swordsman," Mukuro said airily. Again, Yamamoto laughed. He was definitely taking liberties. "How brave."

"You don't do this often, do you?"

"Hopefully not," Mukuro grinned. "Reborn tells me you're a force to be reckoned with. I wish to see what that hitman sees in you."

A natural-born assassin, Yamamoto thought the title over. He sighed knowing Reborn was seldom wrong.

"Trust me, you don't."

"I don't do trust, swordsman."

"Last time I saw you, you didn't do pep-talks either."

Mukuro frowned. It was Yamamoto's turn to grin.

"Touché," Mukuro replied. "It's getting dark you know. It might be a good time to head off to sleep."

"You have another mission from Reborn?"

This question didn't need an answer. An affirmative was already written across the illusionist's face.

Still though, Mukuro was more courteous than that. The pineapple-head had his principles, weird might most of them be. "He is wearing me out. I hope you don't mind. It's a chilly night. I told Chrome to take some of your blankets while I keep you distracted here."

"Ah, so that's why," Yamamoto shrugged. His lips were thinned and curved enough to pass for a small smile. "The cold never bothered me anyway."

"You're the rain guardian after all," Mukuro smirked coyly at him. "Have a good night, swordsman."

Replies to Reviews:

Spirit Kagome: Xanxus' character will be surprising. Look forward to it ;)
Infinity Rabbit: Aww, thank you so much. I hope you're still reading this!
tiara324542: Hey! Thank you for your time. It means a lot.
Guest: I don't know what to say, man. Thanks. I mean, I hope you can read this. It's amazing how positive the feedback is with this story.

I'm sorry. I can't help myself. I just want to give these kids a break. I don't want Mukuro to always be that sort-of-villain. Anti-hero illusionist? Why not, right? :) But really, thanks so much. You've waited for six chapters to read something that's not-so-depressing, and sadly this is all I can manage. A big thanks to all those who are following this story, and for those who added it in their favorites. And yes, the Frozen reference is intentional.