Tsuna received his next call two days later.

It came in the form of a small disposable cell phone, tucked into a manila envelope and left outside of his room with a small note stuck to the front: "Talk to you soon."

He spent half an hour fiddling with the device, unsuccessfully trying to maneuver through the English interface on his own, before enlisting the help of his friends. When another twenty minutes ticked by without any luck, he finally gave up and wandered down to the lobby in search of Jonathan's assistance.

Only then did the phone ring.

The timing was uncanny – the screen lit up as soon as it touched Jonathan's palm, and he ended up dropping it in surprise as it began buzzing loudly. The experience only served to feed Tsuna's mounting paranoia, especially when the mysterious caller turned out to be the consigliere…otherwise known as the man they couldn't possibly interact with, unless Jonathan was with them. What were the chances that he would call right as the phone dropped into Jonathan's hand? Even Tsuna wasn't so naïve as to write that off as simple coincidence.

The timing was uncanny.

They were just small things here and there, but Tsuna was quietly filing away bits of evidence that supported a growing theory. With each passing day spent in New York, he grew more and more certain that the little suspicion, which had been nagging at him quietly but persistently over the past few days, was more than just a mere suspicion – they were being watched. By whom, or from where, he couldn't even begin to hypothesize, but he was certain that his hunch wasn't stemming from paranoia alone.

Still, he kept the revelation to himself. At the moment, everything pointed to the American mafia. It wasn't exactly surprising, but it also meant that secrets were still being kept. It may have simply been out of caution, or it may have been some kind of test for him – either way, Tsuna didn't see much point in raising alarm. There was no telling what lengths Gokudera would go to if he thought they were being spied on, and there wasn't much point to causing needless worry when he didn't have any solid evidence to go on. He would probably bring it up with Reborn later, but for now, he'd just treat it as something to keep in mind.

As strange as it sounded, there were more important matters to deal with than a potential spy at the moment; the consigliere had news for them.

The rendezvous point was significantly higher-end this time, a ritzy diner with high ceilings and wide windows. Sunlight poured in and bounced off the crystals of several chandeliers, refractions dancing along the tapestries that hung across the walls.

"I was wondering why he had told us to dress up," Tsuna murmured, giving Yuri a glance that contained some mixture of smugness and sympathy. "I guess we should probably thank Miyu, shouldn't we?"

The frown she shot at him wasn't quite empty of malice, but it held a certain note of resignation that only appeared when she knew she was wrong.

The instructions Jonathan relayed through the phone call had been simple, but explicit: Tsuna was to pose as a businessman, taking his spouse out to meet his coworkers over lunch. There had been some fussing from Gokudera, who even offered to disguise himself as a woman if it meant remaining at the Tenth's side, but Tsuna ultimately overruled the idea. It was possible the bomber might be able to realistically pass as a woman, on the condition that he stay silent, but everyone knew that was an almost hilariously unrealistic expectation.

So the role had defaulted to Yuri, who was significantly less willing to be wrestled into a dress, but her sense of duty eventually overcame her pride, and she reluctantly agreed to accompany Tsuna in the outfit that Miyu had bought for her just a few days prior.

They both ended up borrowing clothes from Gokudera, who had been the only one with enough foresight to pack some formal wear. Fortunately, he and Tsuna seemed to be the same size, with the pants only sagging slightly around the latter's waist – an issue that was easily fixed with a belt. Yuri, on the other hand, stood roughly four inches shorter than the bomber. The hem of his coat swam around her thighs, but her shoulders were broad enough to mostly fill out the upper half of the garment, so with a few strategically placed safety pins, it was able to pass as a fairly convincing blazer. The plain black garment was all it took to pull the outfit together, making her look more like a professional business woman than a fashion savvy teen.

"Personally, I think we look more like business partners than…um, romantic ones." Tsuna noted as nonchalantly as he could while they were waiting to be seated, trying to make conversation that didn't revolve around the elephant in the room.

Honestly, the idea of posing as couple flustered him to no end, but Yuri simply held an air of indifference and slight boredom. She had spent the better part of her life playing this sort of role, on a level that Tsuna could barely wrap his head around – this entire affair must have seemed so trivial to her. When faced with such dispassion, Tsuna refused to reveal just how uneasy this made him.

"If I'm being perfectly honest with you," She murmured, digging through the nonexistent contents of her purse. "I think I prefer that."

"Yeah. Me too."

"I imagine you'd rather do this with Sasagawa's younger sister." Tsuna gulped – was he that easy to read? Truthfully, Kyoko had been on his mind from the moment this entire façade had begun. The idea of seeing her all dressed up, getting to take her out for lunch in such a high class place, pretending to be…well, needless to say, it was along the same vein as many other fantasies that had played out in his mind over the years. "Sorry you're stuck with me."

"Not at all," A slightly relieved breath escaped from Tsuna's lungs. For once, he knew exactly what to say. "The idea is nice, but…well, it would all just be pretend, you know? That just kind of makes it sadder, somehow. Despite what we're trying to make it look like, I'm not here on a date. This is strictly business, and in that particular scenario, I'd really rather have you by my side."

"Careful, Boss," Yuri chuckled, giving him an appreciative smile. "That was almost charming. You just might make me fall for you after all."

"I…I…" Before Tsuna could even begin digging himself into a hole, her eyes wandered past him and suddenly grew sharp, her posture stiffening.

"He's here," She whispered, averting her gaze and focusing her attention back on the inside of her purse. Following her lead, Tsuna started brushing at some imaginary lint on his knee as he listened to the telltale lilt of Jonathan's voice behind him.

All of this felt a bit surreal, like some kind of game he would have played as a child. The only difference was that he wasn't quite sure what the consequences of losing this particular game was, and he didn't have much interest in finding out.

No less than five minutes after Jonathan's arrival, a waiter appeared before them, wearing a congenial smile and beckoning the pair to follow him down a small set of stairs, onto the floor of the dining area. He led them to a table towards the back, carefully placed so that it would be difficult to eavesdrop on their conversation, but not so secluded as to look suspicious. Jonathan shot them a bright grin, already sitting with another man, who was standing to greet them enthusiastically.

Tsuna blinked as his hand was abruptly gripped in a firm handshake; he had to force the surprise out of his expression, quickly equipping a warm smile instead.

He barely recognized the consigliere, dressed in a crisp suit instead of an old flannel, blond hair slicked back rather than crammed beneath a beat up baseball cap, pearly white teeth replacing the surly frown…this was a completely different person from the man he had met in the bar, and Tsuna found himself feeling just a touch more paranoid as he suddenly found reason to wonder just how much of a performer this guy was.

Burying his distrust, Tsuna took his seat and resolved to simply mirror the man's exemplary acting skills for now. He'd have plenty of time to worry later.

For several minutes, the four of them simply exchanged pleasantries and hollow smiles as the wait staff came and went over and over again, taking their orders and serving them drinks, every single one of them a bit too eager to please. When the food finally arrived, the waiter hovered for a moment, smiling tensely as he asked, "Is there anything else I can get for you?" for the umpteenth time. The consigliere's grinning mask cracked slightly as he hissed out a sigh, the muscles around his eyes twitching as he pulled out a generous wad of bills and subtly pressed them into the waiter's palm.

"You're being too obvious," Jonathan translated quickly as the man finally left, leaving the consigliere to glower openly at them. "The staff has already picked up on what we're doing here."

"We've done everything you told us to," Tsuna shifted uncomfortably, finally putting together exactly what had just happened. "We came separately from Jonathan, we're acting like a couple-"

"A couple on the verge of breaking up, you mean?" The blond man shot Yuri an exasperated look. "You look like you're on death row, not happily married."

Yuri leveled her gaze on him, staring icily.

"Y…you didn't tell us we were supposed to be married," Tsuna stuttered, trying to air out the tension a bit. "There's no way we could look that old."

"That's not his point," Yuri murmured, letting out a huffy sigh that sounded more like a growl as she rolled her eyes up towards the ceiling and hissed out a resentful, "…fine."

Tsuna barely registered the corners of her mouth curling up into a wide grin, stretching so far it looked as though her face might split in half, before she threw her head back and released a loud, almost shrieking peal of laughter.

He jumped at that, and then he jumped even higher when he suddenly found her hand sliding over his, twining their fingers intimately. As her laughter died down, Yuri tucked her free hand into the crook of his elbow and laid her head against his shoulder, still giggling lightly as she spoke through gritted teeth, "Better?"

The consigliere had his eyebrow raised, whether in judgement or amusement, Tsuna couldn't be sure…but he did seem appeased.

"Better," He acknowledged. "If you can keep that up, we may actually finish this up in a timely manner. Vongola, try to loosen up a bit."

"Mnh…" Tsuna shifted awkwardly, trying to relax into the new pose. "Sorry, I was just…taken by surprise."

"You don't need to be an art exhibit for this," The blond couldn't help chuckling as Tsuna patted Yuri's hand awkwardly. "Go ahead and start eating. I'll be brief."

"You'd better," Yuri muttered, her words at complete odds with her expression. "My face is already starting to hurt."

"Is it safe to assume you've made progress?" Tsuna asked over her continued grumblings.

"Considerably…but I didn't call you here for a simple status update. I needed to warn you."

Tsuna could see Yuri freeze in the periphery of his vision, her fork hovering halfway between her plate and mouth.

"You'd better choose your next words very carefully," She hissed, no longer trying to maintain her smile. "Have you put my boss at risk?"

Tsuna fought the urge to groan – he may as well have just brought Gokudera along. When it came to his personal safety, those two were exactly alike – just the same breed of guard dog with only a slight variance in temper.

"I'm doing my best to avoid that," The consigliere replied, frowning down at her. "Why do you think I'm trying so hard to disguise you in public?"

"Let's not do this all over again," Tsuna interrupted swiftly. "I'm sorry if this sounds rude, but could you just get to the point?"

"Of course," The consigliere paused to take a few bites of food, simulating a natural break in the conversation before wiping his mouth and continuing. "A task force, of sorts, was assembled for the sole purpose of tracking down the Trovare, which I've been put in charge of. It's a small group of people who are all very good at what they do, so we were making an impressive amount of progress. We're close, Vongola Tenth – very close."

"But…?"

"One of our members is very…excitable. He decided to pursue the Trovare more aggressively when he saw an opportunity to do so. If he had taken the time to consult me on the matter, I would have told him that the Trovare aren't the type to leave 'opportunities' open."

"…it was a trap."

"If I weren't in charge of hunting them down, I may actually admit to being impressed by their work. In hindsight, I can recognize the fact that it was incredibly intricate, well thought out and perfectly executed. Alas, I'm the butt of this particular joke, so you never heard anything I just said."

"What happened?" Tsuna had stopped pretending to eat altogether, his stomach tied up in knots as he waited for the bad news.

"They kidnapped several of our members. Made negotiations, and refused to uphold their end of the deal every single time. We were so focused on what we assumed was them going on the offensive, preparing to deal a crippling blow before we could lay a finger on them. Voices were raised, a few punches were thrown…it was all very dramatic, and ultimately, little more than a puppet show. Yesterday evening, we discovered two things:

"First, all of our 'kidnapped' members were found in a local bar, drunk out of their minds but otherwise unharmed. They had absolutely no memory of what had occurred over the past few days, and no clue how they ended up there. Secondly," The consigliere's hand was clenching and unclenching as he spoke, frustration practically seeping out of his pores. "There was evidence of tampering in our electronic database. They left almost no trace of their presence in our system, but some footprints are impossible to erase, and though these footprints are miniscule…they're all over our records."

"So they distracted you with a blatant push for power, weakened your focus on internal security, and basically had a party in your backyard," Yuri mused, absently pushing her food around her plate. Setting her fork down, she shot the consigliere a look that could almost be sympathetic, if it weren't so heavily laced with venom. "You got played."

"Like I said – puppet show," He conceded humbly. "There's no way of knowing exactly what sort of information they got their hands on, much less how extensive it is…but for the moment, I'm simply assuming the worst. And if that's the case, then that means they have access to all the information we have on you."

"It sounds like you've been under a lot of stress. I'd offer to help, but something tells me you've got another plan in mind," Tsuna murmured. His voice sounded amazingly calm to his ears, considering the way his heart was hammering in his chest. "So…what do you recommend we do?"

"Are you honestly going to ask him for advice, Boss?" Yuri whispered beside him. "This is twice that he's-"

"Our position hasn't changed. We still have to defer to The Commission while we're here, we can't exactly just take the situation into our own hands."

"But still-"

"We'll discuss it later," Tsuna told her firmly. "Right now, I'm just happy to have an ally. I don't intend to cut off our only source of information on this matter. Am I understood?"

Yuri chewed on her lip, her gaze darting between the men at the table, judging, weighing, scrutinizing. Finally, she bowed her head in deference and leaned back into her seat.

"Yes, Boss."

"Thank you." Nodding, Tsuna motioned for the Consigliere to continue, but the man didn't look terribly confident.

"At this point in time, I'm operating on the assumption that the Trovare not only know of you, but they know everything about you. Faces, names, affiliations…your first course of action should be to change rooms, wherever you're staying. Don't switch hotels, they're likely monitoring for that kind of activity all throughout the city; just move onto a separate floor under aliases. You should have fabricated identification waiting for you at the front desk. If this drags on for much longer, we'll have to look into moving your families into safe houses, but for now, just keep your heads down. Whenever you have to leave the hotel, wear disguises, and get used to responding to your new names."

The consigliere sighed, running his fingers through his hair several times before leaning forward and taking Tsuna's hand in another firm handshake, "Don't let these rings out of your sight. Keep your family close at all times. If you think, at any point, that something feels off…get yourself somewhere safe, and contact someone you trust. Even if it's just a shadow in the edge of your vision, allow yourself to be paranoid…" He trailed off, casting a furtive glance around the room.

When he spoke again, his voice was little more than a rustling of air.

"You must be vigilant …because there isn't a doubt in my mind that the moment the Trovare discovered your significance to the Vongola Famiglia…you became their number one target."

Tsuna couldn't believe he had gotten stuck with such a generic name. 'Jo'. It practically screamed 'This is not my real name!' And yet, despite that, he could tell a lot of thought had been put into these aliases.

Gokudera and Yuri, who were clearly of mixed blood, had names that mirrored their heritage – Nicholas Russo and Valerie De Luca, respectively. It felt beyond strange, pinning such foreign titles to his friends, but Tsuna could see how a stranger wouldn't even blink at it.

The remaining three boys, on the other hand, were undeniably of Asian descent, and they were named as such, with painfully common surnames like Tanaka, Nakamura, and Sato. Tsuna had to admit that their given names were kind of clever, though – they were definitely Japanese, but when the kanji was Romanized, they sounded like common American names. So his 'Jo' could be mistaken for 'Joe', Yamamoto's 'Kento' for 'Kent', and Ryohei's 'Rei' for 'Ray'. They were designed to do everything but stand out.

"I don't see what difference it makes when none of us can speak English," Yuri grumbled from the couch. "Oi, Rei…Rei…Rei!"

"Huh?" Ryohei finally snapped his head up when Yamamoto gave him a helpful jab to the ribs. "Oh, right! That is…extremely me!"

They had all agreed that it was best to practice recognizing and responding to their new names as soon as possible, so they were spending the evening calling each other's names out at random. Yuri had picked it up immediately, which didn't come as much of a surprise. They had met her as Riko, after all, and she had never once slipped up while wearing that name – who knew how many other aliases she had used over the years? Ryohei, on the other hand, just couldn't seem to get the hang of it. Even when someone said 'Rei' directly into his face, he still managed to wear a perfectly blank expression. Everyone else simply fell somewhere between those two extremes.

"What I'm curious about is how they got these photos of us," Yamamoto mused, holding his ID up to the lamp. "It's amazingly realistic, but I don't think I've ever seen this picture of me."

"I've learned to stop questioning these things," Tsuna mumbled back. Only a fraction of his attention was focused on the conversation at hand, which was scattered all over the place anyways. Everyone was lost in thought.

Tsuna glanced up, scanning the area around him with a furrowed brow. When he and Yuri returned from the meeting, they barely had time to explain the situation before the hotel staff had arrived to gather their belongings and whisk them into their new rooms. But that wasn't what was bothering him. They were no longer living in the lap of luxury, of course, but their accommodations were still high quality – just smaller, and closer to the ground. No, the move hardly bothered Tsuna at all.

What bothered him was the fact that his family was in danger.

The Ninth had never said that this might be a dangerous mission, and maybe it wasn't supposed to be, but now that things had turned out this way…he couldn't stop coming up with reasons to blame himself.

He had chosen to go to Italy. His friends simply followed him out of loyalty. He should have known better than to let them accompany him, out of what? Insecurity? He was well aware of the fact that he wouldn't have even considered the trip if he didn't have the support of his guardians. Reborn had told him it was because he was a leader, but he didn't feel like much of a leader – without them, he was nothing. He was always relying on them, depending on them…he had spent his entire life falling down, but at what point had he started expecting them to catch him?

Angry, unforgiving facts tore through his mind, accusing, blaming, screaming...

He had fought so hard to gain Yuri's trust, and the first thing he did was put her in danger. Meanwhile, Gokudera wouldn't even think twice about sacrificing himself for Tsuna's sake. And if something happened to Ryohei, Tsuna didn't know what he'd tell Kyoko, or how he'd even face her. And Yamamoto…

Honestly, Yamamoto was the one who worried Tsuna the most. Ever since they had met the Nomiya siblings, the swordsman just hadn't been the same.

His thoughts were constantly somewhere else, a quiet intensity whispering around him. Tsuna didn't know what had happened or what had changed, but Yamamoto had become…lost. And yet, with every passing day, he seemed to gain some kind of focus, some sort of newfound determination, and it unnerved Tsuna to no end. It was too familiar – the last time he had felt something like this from Yamamoto had been during the inheritance test with Asari Ugetsu. He had lost sight of himself back then, and Tsuna could tell without needing to ask that he had lost sight of himself yet again.

But unlike the test, this didn't involve Tsuna at all. It was a burden that Yamamoto was determined to shoulder himself, and Tsuna couldn't even ask what was wrong, much less try to help. If the Trovare decided to attack while Yamamoto was in this state of mind…

Tsuna shuddered at the thought.

"-that? Jo? Oi, Tsuna." His train of thought was suddenly brought to grinding halt when Reborn brought his foot down hard on his head. "What's the matter with you? You're right next to the phone."

"What?" Rubbing the newly afflicted area, Tsuna realized the phone beside him was ringing, and probably had been for a while now. Yamamoto was currently making a wild dive for it, just barely picking it up in time. "Oh…sorry, I was just…distracted."

"Of course you were," Reborn settled on Tsuna's shoulder with a displeased frown. "But this is hardly the time to be getting distracted. We're essentially on red alert here, you can't afford to let your mind wander."

"No, you're right," Tsuna rubbed at his eyes, trying to refocus his attention in the present. "Sorry. I'll try not to let it happen again."

Silence. Tsuna cringed – when Reborn chose to be silent, Tsuna never knew whether to feel nervous or relieved…but at least the Arcobaleno wasn't hitting him again. That was always reason enough to be thankful.

"Yes…yes, I understand…thank you," After setting the phone back in its cradle, Yamamoto turned around to reveal a befuddled expression.

"What is it?" Tsuna asked.

"A…guest."

Gokudera was immediately on his feet.

"It has to be a trap!"

"The timing is suspect," Yuri agreed quickly. "Almost…blatantly so. Do you think they'd try something so obvious?"

"From what we've heard, the Trovare aren't the type to mess around, and they like to play mind games," Reborn hopped off of Tsuna's shoulder and onto the couch, staring at the phone like he expected to intimidate an answer out of it. "Until we get a better grasp of how they operate as an organization, I can see it going either way."

"But…what if it really is just a guest?" Yamamoto seemed hesitant to ask the obvious question. "It could be Miyu again."

"It's nearly eleven, you baseball idiot," Gokudera snapped. "What the hell would she be doing here at this hour?"

"…well…blackmail is a possibility," Yuri offered after a minute. "We've been seen in public with her, and we know her brother is hospitalized. She'd be a perfect victim, and I doubt the Trovare would be above using an innocent bystander to get to us."

"If that's the case, we can't just leave her down there – it would be extremely cruel!" Ryohei punctuated his protest with a fist to the wall, making several decorations rattle loudly.

"Hold on, we're not even sure that it's her down there." Tsuna held up both hands, desperate to slow the conversation. The last thing they needed was to start jumping to conclusions.

"But if it is," Yamamoto leveled his gaze on Tsuna, so serious it sent a chill down his spine. "You know I can't just sit still with that as a possibility."

"Well…no, of course not, but…we should at least take some time to think this through."

"Unfortunately, it sounds like time isn't something that we have," Yuri broke in. She crossed the room with a few wide strides and dropped into a crouch by her duffel bag, rifling through its contents. "I'm not content to just cower in here, flinching at everything that goes bump in the night, and I doubt that any of you are either. So," She turned around, revealing what she had been looking for – her gun. As she spoke, she fed bullets into the magazine, her fingers moving deftly across the metal. "Let's make a plan."

"You've had that on you this entire time?"

"Not what we should be focusing on right now."

"Hey, wait a second," Gokudera stepped forward and grabbed her wrist, forcing her to stop. "Are you suggesting we deliberately put the Tenth at risk? I don't care if you've got a gun or not, I'll gladly die before I let that happen."

"Go-Gokudera, let's not-"

"Oh, calm down," Yuri twisted her hand free with an irritated scowl. "I'm suggesting we set a trap of our own."

"A trap?" Tsuna's brow furrowed, not quite sure how she planned to come up with anything foolproof within the next few minutes.

"All of us will go down, but we'll only send Yamamoto out into the lobby. Reborn can easily sneak ahead to cover the entrance, and the rest of us will stay with the Boss, cover as many vantage points as we can. Elevators and emergency exits should be a priority."

"That…"

"Could work." Reborn finished for him. "I'll go on ahead while you figure out the details. Don't waste any more time arguing."

While the hitman left them to their own devices, the wheels in Gokudera's head had already begun turning, and he shifted his attention to the map of the floor by the room's entrance.

"If this layout is consistent throughout the building," He murmured, eyes darting back and forth as quickly. "Then…these should be the most advantageous points. They're close to each other, and should allow us to scan the entire area – minimal blind spots."

"Sounds good," Yuri gave him quick a nod of acknowledgment, reaching behind her to tuck the gun into her waistband. "Sasagawa, come with me. If we leave now, we can take the stairs down – it'll put us right next to that exit."

"I'm right behind you," The boxer had an uncharacteristically serious tone, but his eyes shone with excitement as he followed Yuri out the door.

Tsuna looked at his remaining two friends with wide eyes, barely comprehending everything that had just happened in the last minute.

"Let's go," Gokudera ushered them towards the door as well. "We'll take the elevator."

"And…and then what?!" Tsuna couldn't keep the panic out of his voice. Everything was moving so quickly, he couldn't quite bring himself to believe that this was an airtight plan.

"You and I will stay behind while Yamamoto goes out to meet his girlfriend."

"Hey, she's not-"

"Less protesting, more moving."

Without an ounce of grace, Gokudera pushed the pair into the elevator and jammed his thumb against the ground floor button before repeatedly pressing the "close doors" button. When they finally started moving, the tension suddenly grew several times more palpable, offset only by the soft music drifting through the speakers.

"…she's not my girlfriend." Yamamoto muttered after a few moments of silence, shoving his hands into his pockets. Gokudera let out an exasperated sigh, rolling his eyes.

"What did Yuri say…'Not what we should be focusing on right now'? I don't care what she is or what happens to her, but you'd better take this seriously. If she gets involved in this mess, she's just going to end up dead."

Yamamoto stiffened at that, his lips pressing into a thin line.

"Gokudera, that might be going a bit far," Tsuna stammered.

"It's not, Tenth," The bomber replied immediately, shooting him a worried look. "The mafia doesn't mess around. Once a Family has decided you're a liability, no matter how small it is…you need to assume lives are on the line."

"…" Tsuna lowered his eyes, letting the words sink in, reinforcing his earlier train of thought. This was on him. He had gotten every single one of them involved, a list which now included Miyuki and Kazuo. It was on him. "Right. I guess the reality of this just hasn't fully…I'll keep that in mind from now on."

Gokudera didn't have time to reply before the elevator doors slid open, announcing their arrival with a quiet little ding! Pressing a finger to his lips, he led them out, quickly ducking around the nearest corner.

Tsuna crouched beside him, peeking past a large potted plant. Scanning the area, he could see the top of Ryohei's head poking out from a similar decoration on the other side of the lobby, Yuri a mere silhouette behind him. There was no sign of Reborn, but Tsuna had no doubt that he was there, well concealed in one of his many clever disguises.

The room was completely empty except for the staff behind the front desk, and a lone figure in front of it.

It was Miyu.

She was standing with her back to them, stretching up on her toes to lean over the counter and speak with the clerk at eye level. A backpack sagged limply by her feet, and her hair was damp and disheveled. She was dressed in nothing but a thin tank top and a pair of cotton shorts, while her sneakers were shoved onto her feet with the laces untied, no socks underneath. Everything about her presence there felt off.

From the corner of his eye, Tsuna could see Gokudera nodding at Yamamoto, which was all the encouragement the swordsman needed. Without any hesitation or thought for his own safety, the swordsman stepped out into the lobby, walking swiftly as he called out to the girl.

"Miyu! What are you doing here so la-?" He froze when she turned to face him, and Tsuna tensed like a coiled spring. He couldn't see past Yamamoto's back from this position, and he barely dared to breathe, much less move.

"Ah, Takeppi…" Her voice sounded…bashful. "D-don't freak out!"

"What happened?" He was suddenly bolting forward, hands stretching towards her face. Their positions shifted slightly, and Tsuna sucked in a surprised breath, now understanding Yamamoto's reaction.

The left side of her face was covered in a nasty bruise. Her cheek was a painfully bright shade of red, clearly inflamed. Her eye was almost completely swollen shut, the skin a dark, ugly purple. Her lip was split, and a wad of bloodied tissue was crammed into her nostril, which still appeared to be bleeding.

"It looks worse than it is, really," She laughed, swallowing hard as Yamamoto gingerly touched the injured areas, and tried to crack a joke, "I may have made it worse by walking into a few doors on my way here."

"Who did this to you? When did this happen? We need to get you-"

"Calm down," She insisted, grabbing his wrists to keep him from fussing any further. "I'm not dying, it's okay."

A bit of movement across the room caught snagged Tsuna's attention, and he looked up to see Ryohei standing up. Blinking, he noticed Yuri was no longer with the boxer – she was stepping right through the front entrance, causally lifting a hand in greeting.

"Is that Miyu?" Tsuna could barely hear her voice. "What's going on?"

"Oi," Gokudera hissed beside him. "What is she doing?"

"I'-I'm not sure…" Tsuna shifted his weight, getting ready to try and sneak further into the lobby, only to find a small figure suddenly standing in his way. "Reborn?"

"Ciaossu," The hitman smirked, obviously amused by their confusion. "I didn't see anything unusual by the entrance, so I got Yuri to help me make a quick scan of the perimeter. It's clear – looks like Miyu really is just paying you a late night visit."

"This is more than a little suspicious, though."

"It is. Leon and I will keep patrolling for now, but I don't think this has anything to do with the Trovare. Miyu looks like she's in pretty bad shape, though – you should go see if you can find out what happened. Gokudera, you should go meet Ryohei by the stairwell. I have a feeling he might need some help getting ahold of a first aid kit."

"Tsk," The bomber didn't look happy to part ways with his boss, but he seemed content with the knowledge that they weren't in any immediate danger. "It's better than sitting around and wondering what's going on. I'll stick to the halls and keep an eye on the area. If anything looks off, I'll yell out."

"…okay." Tsuna finally agreed. "Be careful."

Exchanging a quick nod, they parted ways, Gokudera retreating back towards the exit while Tsuna moved to join the others in the lobby.

Miyu was still trying to calm Yamamoto down, who had her face back in his hands and was twisting her head around to examine the damage. When she caught sight of Tsuna, she just let out a low groan.

"Not you, too," She wore a tired smile. "I swear, if I knew I'd cause this much of a fuss, I wouldn't have come."

"Yamamoto, stop fretting over her for a minute, will you?" Yuri scolded quietly, placing her hands lightly on Miyu's shoulders. "Let's bring her up to one of our rooms and get her fixed up – then you can interrogate her."

After taking the elevator back up to their own floor, the three of them bumped into Gokudera, who guided them to Yamamoto and Ryohei's room. The boxer had set up what looked to be a small infirmary inside, having emptied a first aid kit of its contents and organized them neatly on the table.

"Looks like you got into an extreme fight, Nomiya," He greeted, gesturing for her to take a seat.

"Sorry for the trouble," She murmured bowing slightly before entering the room and making her way over to the sofa.

"Have you treated any of this yet?"

"Aside from taking a shower…no, not really."

Grunting in response, the boxer opened up a few pre-packaged alcohol wipes and grabbed her chin, angling her face towards the light.

"Can we…ask what happened?" Tsuna finally asked, timidly taking a seat beside her.

"Well, it's not really fair for me to just show up on your doorstep like this, without any explanation," She sighed, letting her good eye roam over all of them. "I had a…argument with a few boys at school. Some unpleasant words were exchanged, and I probably could have afforded to hold my tongue, but…well, I didn't."

"What…" Tsuna was having trouble envisioning that. "What did you say, exactly?"

"…"She winced slightly as Ryohei began dabbing at the small cuts around her eye, and pursed her lips thoughtfully for a moment. "Well, to summarize it in a concise manner…the words 'son of a pox-ridden whore' may have passed through my lips at one point. Personally, I think that may have been my greatest achievement."

"…" Somehow, hearing her speak was even more shocking than the state of her face. The fact that she was capable of saying something so foul was…more than a bit jarring.

"Okay, I regret my decision at this point," She admitted as the silence stretched on. "But at the time, it felt adequately clever and sufficiently mean-spirited."

"And they did that to you?" Gokudera asked the question like it was more of a statement, as if that was the obvious direction that course of events would take.

"Well, not right then and there, no. Too many witnesses," She looked down, her fingers picking at the hem of her shorts. "They jumped me on my way home."

"How many of them were there?" Yuri asked.

"Um…three, originally, but one of them wimped out partway through; he got scared when someone walked by, but…well, they didn't do anything, so the Miyu piñata party went on."

"They got several extremely good hits in," Ryohei commented as he finished applying ointment to the open wounds and started wrapping up an ice pack. "You look like you just went three rounds in the ring – did you at least pay them back?"

"I'm…not much of a fighter," She smiled tensely, lifting her hands to take over as he pressed the ice pack to her eye. "I just don't know how to pick my battles."

"Can you describe what they looked like?" Yamamoto asked, stepping forward to peer into her face once more. The swelling in her cheek had begun to die down a little, but she still strongly resembled a marshmallow.

"Absolutely not," She frowned. "I see that look in your eye, Yamamoto Takeshi, and I'm certain that I don't like it."

"What do you mean? I'm just curious!" It was a weak argument. Everyone in the room could sense the bloodlust rolling off of him in waves. His expression showed concern, but his eyes showed…something else.

"Not a chance. It was a bit excessive, but I got what was coming to me, and I'll own up to that. I can handle myself – I don't need some white knight running around getting revenge on my behalf."

While he didn't look happy about it, Yamamoto seemed content to let the issue rest for now. Heaving a sigh, he sat down next to her and tucked a few stray strands of hair behind her ear, frowning as the damage came back into view.

"What were you even fighting about in the first place?"

"…" Her answer to this particular question wasn't so forthcoming. "…my dad." His brow furrowed at that, but she didn't give him the chance to ask another question. "Anyways, I was just a little spooked after that. My dad works night shifts, and I just…I don't know, wanted to have someone around, I guess."

"Well, they obviously hurt you pretty badly," Yuri cut in smoothly. "That would scare anyone. Did you bring clothes?"

"Yeah," She looked embarrassed to admit it. "Enough for a day or two, probably."

"Good. It's too late for you to walk back home – you can spend the night in my room."

"…Are you sure? I know this is a bit sudden."

"Don't think too much of it. There's plenty of room for you – this is your bag?" Yuri pointed to the tattered blue backpack, hoisting it onto her shoulder when Miyu nodded. "Then let's say goodnight for now. We can regroup in the morning."

"Thank you," Her voice was genuine as she stood up and gave another half bow. "All of you – you're treating me far too well. If there's anything I can do in return-"

"You just focus on resting for now," Yamamoto insisted, nudging her towards the door. "Your only job is to heal."

"Well…fine, but don't think I'll forget." She agreed reluctantly, finally joining Yuri out in the hallway. "No matter how you look at it, I owe you – but I guess I can wait to pester you about it tomorrow. For now, I'll just tell you guys 'good night'!"

"Ah, good ni-!"

The door eased shut behind her, prematurely cutting off the boys' chorus of replies.

"We're just around the corner," Yuri called out, already halfway down the hall. "We were originally all right next to each other, but something came up and we had to switch rooms. The last one was too big for me, so I requested one with just a single bed."

"Oh, that's alright," Miyu sprinted up beside her, peering at the keycard lock curiously. "I can just take the floor."

"You know I can't let you do that in good conscience," Yuri glanced down at her with a raised eyebrow, opening the door and waving her in. "You're practically a cripple right now."

"Like I keep saying, it's not that bad!"

"You're not fooling anyone, you know. You're favoring your entire left side. I've been in my fair share of fights, and I know a thorough beating when I see one – you got more than just a few good punches to the face. If I asked you to lift your shirt, I'm guessing you'd resemble an eggplant."

"…you've been in fights?"

Yuri chose to ignore the obvious deflection.

"Is that surprising?"

Miyu took a seat on the corner of the bed and laughed, "In some ways, I guess not. I just kind of assumed you were smarter than me."

"I'm not sure whether to take that as a compliment or an insult." Yuri offered a tiny smirk, leaning the backpack against the wall as she began to pull spare bedding from the closet. "But really – you can't convince me quite so easily."

"Convince you of what?"

"That you're 'just a little spooked'," Dropping the mess of blankets and pillows onto the floor, Yuri made a small attempt to arrange them into something that looked vaguely comfortable. After a few tries, she simply abandoned the project with a shrug and wandered over to Miyu's side, leaning up against the bedpost with her arms crossed. "You wouldn't have come all this way just because of that. So why don't you try being honest – how are you actually feeling right now?"

Miyu leveled an impressively steady gaze on her, refusing to admit to anything at first…but after a few moments, her smile turned watery and she had to look away. Sighing, she drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms tightly around them, turning herself into a protective ball.

"My hands haven't stopped shaking all night, and I kind of feel like puking," She mumbled, pressing the ice pack harder against her face, its contents shifting loudly. "And crying into a pillow, maybe. But let's face it, my eyes really don't need to get any puffier."

"There's no shame in crying. It's a natural response, after going through something traumatic – in fact, I think it might even be healthy."

"No, but there's…weakness in it; kind of like admitting to defeat, and I'm really too proud for my own good. It's a family trait. When my brother was hospitalized, I told myself I couldn't ever cry, no matter how bad things looked. I guess that turned into a habit," Turning to look back at Yuri, she cracked a lopsided smile. "And besides, you're already doing a lot for me. I can't possibly ask you to watch the horrific sight that is me crying – it's just ugly and loud and a lot of snot everywhere. It's pretty gross."

Yuri stared down at her quietly, taking note of the slight tremor in her shoulders, and let out a long breath through her nose.

"Well, that's reassuring. I was starting to think you might be perfect, and that's coming from someone who might be more cynical that Hayato." Letting her lips curl up into a smile, she reached out to give Miyu's shoulder a small, reassuring squeeze. "You're alright, for a city girl."

"Thanks," Miyu grinned, finally relaxing out of the tight ball she had pulled herself into. "I think."

"Don't mention it. In any case, I've got some blankets to wrestle with – are you hungry?"

"Um…just a little. It's a bit too late for a meal, though, isn't it?"

"No harm in getting a snack. Here," Searching her pockets, Yuri pulled out the black card that they had received on their first day there. "I think I saw a vending machine down the hall, across from the elevators. Get whatever you want."

"I can pay for it myself," Miyu offered, but was quickly waved aside.

"It's a company card. I've barely even used it."

"Oh…well, if that's the case…" Sliding off the bed, Miyu turned the card over in her hands a few times, inspecting the ornate gold crest embossed across the surface. "Should I get anything for you?"

"I don't really care, as long as it's sweet."

"Okay," Miyu opened the door and quietly slipped into the hallway. "I'll be right back."

As she padded down the hall barefoot, Miyu couldn't help giggling a bit. Yuri had never struck her as the type to have a sweet tooth, but it made her more…endearing, and a little more human. She always looked so solemn, like she was viewing the world through eyes that had seen too much. The fact that she could like sugary snacks, just like the rest of them, was somehow comforting.

"Company card, huh?" She muttered to herself, lifting the plastic rectangle back up into the light. It looked about as expensive as Yuri had made it sound, and Miyu couldn't help but wonder if the crest was made of real gold. "Just what kind of place do they work for?"

They were well paid, that was for sure. If she had a job like that…

"Gnff-!"

"Ah!" Before she could finish the thought, Miyu suddenly found her nose buried in what appeared to be someone's shoulder. Pain tore through the already inflamed tissue, making her stumble backwards with a hiss. "S-sorry! Are you okay?"

"No, don' worreh," She replied automatically, pinching her nose and squinting as her eyes began to water involuntarily. "My fault. I wasn't watching where I was going." Taking a moment to resituate herself, she finally looked up to see who she had run into. "Tsuna! Oh, thank goodness – I thought I had run into some rich big shot stranger."

"That's…definitely not me," He agreed, rubbing the back of his neck with an awkward chuckle. "What are you doing? I thought you went to bed."

"Just getting a quick snack," She pointed at the vending machine behind him, waving Yuri's card in the air. "What about you?"

"I was feeling restless, so I thought I'd go for a walk."

"In your pajamas?" Miyu eyed him doubtfully. "In this weather? It's got to be below thirty outside."

"Oh, I wasn't planning to go outside." He explained quickly, trying to avoid her scrutinizing gaze. "Pacing just helps, and I didn't want to keep Gokudera up."

"I see," Miyu hummed thoughtfully, slowly lowering herself into a crouch as she surveyed what the vending machine had to offer. "Something on your mind?"

"Well…" Tsuna chewed on his lip, trying to figure out how much he could explain without giving too much away. "Kind of, but it's a little complicated."

"And there are a lot of options in this magical glass box, so I can tell I'm going to be here for a while." She grinned, obviously trying to wink at him. With one eye hidden behind an ice pack, though, it just looked like a bit of an exaggerated blink. "I'm more than willing to lend an ear if you need one."

"Er…" Tsuna hesitated. This could be dangerous. There was no way to guarantee that he wouldn't let something about the mafia slip out, but…but Miyu wasn't involved. She wasn't blindly loyal to him, and she didn't have any biased opinions about the mafia or his title or his duty.

Tsuna needed honest advice, and she was a completely neutral party.

She was safe.

"To tell you the truth," He ventured cautiously. "We're in a bit of trouble."

"Trouble?" She turned to face him, propping her elbows up on her knees. "What kind of trouble?"

"I can't really go into specifics, a lot of it is…classified," Tsuna had never been a very good liar, so he resolved to keep everything he'd tell her firmly rooted in the realm of half-truths. "But basically, I came here to conduct business. I'm still in training, and this trip is like a test for me. It was supposed to be simple and straightforward, but some things went wrong, and now we might be in…danger."

"Okay…" Miyu drew the word out with a quizzical look. "What kind of danger?"

"I'm not entirely sure myself," Tsuna leaned back against the wall and dragged his hands across his face. "Lives may be on the line? We're probably being targeted right now? I'm still trying to wrap my head around it."

"That sounds…really bad. A lot worse than I was assuming, admittedly." Standing, Miyu punched a few buttons on the machine and swiped the card through the reader. They stood in silence as it made several loud sounds, finally releasing her snack of choice with a heavy thud, but she didn't immediately reach for it. Instead, she just looked at him and said, "So, I'm assuming you can't leave, then."

"I don't know," He replied quickly. "Maybe. I haven't asked, I just…it doesn't feel right, leaving this here, completely unresolved. There are people here who are trying to help me, and they've made some sacrifices. I don't think it's my fault, but I can't bring myself to just abandon the issue. I came here having accepted it as my responsibility, and I…I feel like I should see that through to the end."

"That makes sense…" Miyu muttered. "And here I thought I was having a rough day. But I don't get it," She finally bent down and pushed her hand into the compartment where her bag of sunflower seeds was waiting. "It sounds like you've made your decision. What are you hung up on?"

Tsuna's hands clenched into fists as he spoke, "Everyone else."

"Not quite following," She said slowly, punching in the code for another snack.

"I…they all…they're in danger too, because of me. They followed me here, into this situation, and I never even tried to stop them."

"You said it was supposed to be simple. How could you have known things would turn out this way?"

"It's…that's not the point! Following through with this whole thing was my decision. Whether we'd come here or not, all of that hinged on me – it was never their decision to make. They came with me for…I don't know, support? And I just let them, because they've always been there for me when things got hard. I knew, in the back of my mind, that if something went wrong on this trip, I could count on them to be there and help me. Even if I ordered them to get on a plane and head back to Japan, they wouldn't do it. I should never have let them come with me, I shouldn't have just taken them for granted and assumed-"

Miyu's hand was suddenly in his face, cutting off his tirade.

"That's tough," She admitted after moment, lowering her hand back down to her side. "It really is. I get it, you're worried, and with good reason. And I may not have the whole story, so I don't know if I'm just jumping to conclusions, but…it sounds like you're thinking too hard, Tsuna. From what I'm hearing, it's pretty obvious what your problem is."

Tsuna blinked. "What…what's that?"

"You've got a big head." She smirked, tapping a finger against her temple. "Your ego's swelling up even more than my cheek is."

"I…?"

She laughed at his expression. "Here, let me ask you this: did you grab your friends by the hair and drag them here, kicking and screaming?"

"What? No, of course not!"

"Alright…then, did you order them to get on the plane, with a gun pressed to their backs?"

"N-no!" A bit of color flooded Tsuna's face as he sputtered at the accusation. "What are you-? I would never-!"

"So you're saying they made the decision to get on that plane, all by themselves?"

"Yes!"

"Then…it was their decision to make, wasn't it?"

"…" Tsuna's jaw hung open, his lips trying to form words that wouldn't come together in his mind. What had she just done? Suddenly he felt…discredited.

"Here's your problem, Tsuna – somehow, you've deluded yourself into believing your friends have no choice but to follow you."

"I…don't…"

"Sounds silly coming from someone else, doesn't it?" She asked, shooting him an impish grin. "I know you're technically their employer or something, but it doesn't take a genius to see that that's not what your relationship is forged on. I can tell just by looking at you guys – you don't see each other as just co-workers or associates. You're all friends. You're…you're family. And I don't need to ask them in order to tell you, with complete confidence, that they aren't here out of some misplaced sense of loyalty. They're here because they want to be here."

Words had completely escaped Tsuna. He wanted to tell her just how mistaken she was, that she didn't understand the situation, but…she wasn't wrong. He couldn't argue against anything that she was telling saying.

"You're a good person, Tsuna. You make people want to follow you – and frankly, whether they do or not…that's not your decision to make. It might be presumptuous of me, but can I make a suggestion?"

"…Go ahead," Tsuna nodded slowly.

"You're wasting your energy, thinking in circles like this. Focusing on regrets isn't going to change your situation; so instead of getting fixated on what you think you could have done or should have done…start thinking about what you're going to do."

Tsuna wet his lips, letting her words roll around in his head for a minute.

"That…is good advice," He finally admitted. "I'd be stupid not to take it."

"Good to know you've got at least that much common sense," She laughed, pressing one of the treats she had just acquired into his open palm. "Here. I'll give you this candy bar, so cheer up, alright?"

Glancing down at the chocolate in his hand, Tsuna felt a tiny smile creep onto his face.

She was right.

She was right.

With all the time he had spent in Dying Will Mode, regret had become a significant part of his life, but it wasn't everything. Outside of battle, regret was useless. Sitting around blaming himself for the situation wasn't getting him anywhere. It wasn't like anyone had been hurt or killed – it wasn't over. There was nothing he could do about the Trovare or The Commission, but he wasn't helpless. He could still fight; all of them could still fight. It was nothing but a waste of time to think of all the ways he could have avoided this situation, when he could be doing something that was actually useful.

He felt his knuckles pop as his hands clenched into fists, and he could feel his resolve hardening – he was going to protect his family, no matter the cost. Loyalty went both ways, after all.

"Thank you, Miyu," He finally said, looking back up at her. "You've really helped me out."

"That's a nice expression," She only had to take one look into his eyes to know that he no longer felt conflicted. "I think you're gonna be alright."

Pivoting on her heel, she stretched her arms over her head and stifled a yawn.

"I'm going to be a zombie tomorrow if I don't get to sleep soon, though," She chuckled. "So if you don't mind, I think I'm going to turn in for the night."

"Ah, of course. Sorry for keeping you."

"Don't be. I'll see you in the morning, maybe," She waved lazily over her shoulder. "Sleep well!"

Tsuna grinned.

"I think I will."

When Tsuna's head finally hit the pillow, he found sleep almost immediately, but it was an unfortunately short-lived rest.

It felt like he had only just closed his eyes when a soft knocking woke him back up. He frowned, reluctantly prying one eye open to squint at the clock beside his bed. 4:37…the sun hadn't even begun to rise yet.

The knocking grew louder.

"Go away…" A groggy protest came from the other bed. As the knocking persisted, growing even louder by the second, Gokudera finally threw the covers aside with an angry growl and bolted up.

"Nn…who…?" Tsuna managed to croak out, struggling to rub the sleep from his eyes.

"Go back to sleep, Tenth," Gokudera insisted, marching towards the door with a murderous glint in his eye. "I'll deal with this."

Tsuna couldn't find it in himself to object. Dropping his head back onto his pillow, he let his eyes slide shut and tried to drift back to sleep as the bomber unlocked the door and yanked it open with an angry curse.

It was hard to ignore the sudden cry of, "W-who are you?!", though.

"…Gokudera?" Tsuna called out cautiously, his eyes snapping open. "What's wrong?"

"Stay back, Ten- mff!"

"Gokudera?!" Ignoring the order, Tsuna rolled out of his warm bed with only a slight pang of regret, and scrambled to the door just in time to see someone forcing their way into the room.

Tsuna couldn't tell if they were male or female, nor could he pick out any distinctive features. While the stranger was physically smaller, they had easily overpowered Gokudera, clamping one hand over the bomber's mouth and slamming him up against the wall with a hissed, "Be quiet!"

That split second was all Tsuna needed to enter Hyper Dying Will Mode.

Scowling, he grabbed the assailant's wrist and wrenched it back, forcing them to turn around and face him. Their lips parted in surprise, hesitating for only a split second before bringing their hands up to catch Tsuna's fist, his knuckles just barely brushing their nose. With a small grunt, they rammed their knee into Tsuna's stomach as he swung again, letting out a soft curse when he took the opportunity to wrap his arms around their torso.

"Wait, wait-!" They attempted to protest, grabbing futilely at his clothes as he forced them backwards. Their back connected with the wall, hard, and they let out a strained cough. Tsuna was more than prepared to continue their fight, but the stranger simply grabbed two fistfuls of his hair and held on tight, refusing to let him move.

"Tenth!" Gokudera cried, stepping forward to intervene, several sticks of dynamite already in hand, just seconds away from being lit.

"STOP!" The stranger finally roared, releasing Tsuna to yank the sunglasses from their face. "It's just me!"

"Wha-?" Tsuna froze, staring up at a familiar face. "…Yuri?"

"Fuck," Was her only response.

Tsuna blinked a few more times, trying to let his mind catch up with the situation as he eased out of battle mode with an almost audible sizzle.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Gokudera demanded angrily. "At this time of night, what did you think we would do?"

"Recognize me, ideally," She groaned, cracking her neck. "Although I guess that means I did a good job."

"You look like a boy."

"Well, that's the easiest disguise for me, isn't it?"

All the curves that defined her as female had disappeared into a sea of loose, baggy clothes that were clearly a few sizes too large. She had a baseball cap crammed low over her eyes, and the sunglasses that she had been wearing only served to further her anonymity.

"I-I'm sorry," Tsuna apologized quickly. "I thought…"

"Don't, it's my bad," She let out a harsh sigh, eyeing him warily. "Although…that was enlightening. I knew you were strong, but I never imagined…I mean, I've never seen the flames in use. That's the first time in a long while since I've felt any real fear for my life."

Tsuna didn't know how to respond to that. Thinking back, he realized he couldn't blame her – with nothing but Gokudera's safety on his mind at the time, he had been attacking with the sole intent to do whatever it would take to ensure that safety. While he believed he wouldn't have let it come to that, he also couldn't deny the fact that he had been prepared to kill.

"Anyways," She continued smoothly, before he could even try to formulate a reply. "I just wanted to tell you that I'm heading out. I didn't want you thinking I had been kidnapped or something."

"You're heading out?" Gokudera repeated disbelievingly. "What part of yesterday's conversation did you not understand?"

"The part where a girl shows up on our doorstep, beaten to a pulp," Yuri countered defensively. "Whoever did that to Miyu, I don't trust them not to try something like that again."

"What, you're her personal escort now? We've got more to worry about! She'll live; a few punches never killed anyone."

"Did you even see her?" Yuri's voice was dangerously low. "Those aren't the kind of wounds you get from someone who knows the meaning of restraint, Hayato. It was more than 'just a few punches'. I'm not risking it."

"But you'll risk exposing yourself to the Trovare?"

She scowled. "I can take care of myself."

"It's too dangerous, Yuri, you can't."

"I wasn't asking for permission," She growled defiantly, slipping the sunglasses back onto her face.

Gokudera sputtered angrily for a moment before turning to Tsuna, like a child tattling to their parent, "Tell her, Tenth!"

"Eh…" Tsuna scratched at the back of his head, suddenly feeling the urge to cower under their combined glare, both equally severe. "…I don't know, Gokudera, I…feel like she has a point?"

"Tenth!" He cried, looking utterly betrayed.

"Look, if something did happen to Miyu, I don't think I'd be able to forgive myself, and I doubt Yamamoto would appreciate it either. Besides, we both just mistook Yuri for some kind of assassin-"

"Wow, I wonder how you got that impression…" Yuri muttered flatly, making him wince at his choice of words.

"M-my point is, she's disguised well. If even we couldn't recognize her, I feel pretty confident that the Trovare won't either."

"…" Gokudera glanced between them, clearly weighing his chances of changing their minds, before finally just making a sound of disgust. "Whatever, do what you want. If something goes wrong, though, don't think I'll hold my tongue."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Yuri sneered, turning to leave. "Anyways, Miyu's waiting for me in the lobby, so I should go."

"I'll see you two off," Tsuna offered, following her out. "I need to walk off some of this adrenalin."

When they stepped out of the elevator, they found Miyu practically bouncing in place, staring at her watch and tapping her foot impatiently.

"There you are!" She exclaimed when she finally saw them. "What kept you?"

"Sorry," Yuri apologized quickly. "We just had to iron out a small misunderstanding."

That's certainly a way of putting it, Tsuna thought bitterly.

"Why do you have to leave so early?" He asked. "You've barely gotten any sleep."

"I have morning practice at the rink," Miyu explained quickly, gathering her things. "And I told you about how I trade work for lessons, right? I help clean and set up every other weekday, so I need to get there forty five minutes early. It's a shorter walk from here, but I also need to buy some concealer, and I don't know how long that'll take."

"Concealer?" He immediately felt stupid for asking when she gave him a pointed look, gesturing towards her face. "Oh."

"Can't have people asking questions and ruining my street cred," She joked halfheartedly. She had improved quite a bit overnight. The swelling had all gone down, leaving her with just a slightly puffy nose and a massive bruise.

"It's too bad Gokudera isn't the one going with you," Tsuna mused. "Then we'd have a chance to talk about the party."

"Party?" Miyu instantly perked up at that, almost like a dog. "What party?"

"For Hayato," Yuri explained. "His birthday passed by a couple weeks ago, and we didn't get a chance to celebrate it."

"Oh!" Miyu clapped her hands together, a thrilled expression on her face. "A surprise party? That's so sweet! You have to let me help – I don't think he likes me very much, but you just have to, I haven't thrown a party in so long!"

"Well, I don't think we were planning on doing anything really extravagant-"

"No, no, I've got it all figured out! You can throw it at my house! Tomorrow's Saturday, so I can probably ask to skip practice…we can split into two groups, one to distract Gokudera, while the other gets everything ready at my place. We can just pick up a simple cake at the grocery store on the way back to the rink later today, and there's this adorable little party supply store right next to my ballet studio, so we can go shopping for decorations after my class! It's perfect!"

Yuri blinked, and turned to Tsuna, "Boss?"

"…well…" He thought it over, letting a smile spread across his face. "That's more planning than we've been able to do all week. I say it's worth a shot."

"This will be so much fun, it's like a secret mission!" Miyu practically squealed, clapping her hands again. "Oh, but now we've got a lot to do, so let's get going, Yuri!"

"Sure," Cramming one hand into her pocket, Yuri slung her other arm around Miyu's shoulders. "Lead the way."

Tsuna blinked.

All she had done was shift her posture a bit, rounding her shoulders and relaxing her spine. Her head was now held at a slight tilt, and a lazy, closed smile now defined her expression. The changes were quick and subtle, but suddenly…Yuri could easily pass as Miyu's confident and slightly possessive boyfriend.

"I'll see you later, Boss," She waved over her shoulder as they turned towards the exit, and Tsuna absently noted the fact that her voice had deepened. Not so much as to sound forced, but just…masculine.

"Yeah," He replied, shaking his head with a disbelieving smile. "I'd tell you to be careful, but…something tells me that's not necessary."

"What?" Miyu asked, her head swiveling to glance between them. "I don't get it."

Yuri just laughed, the sound reeking of boastful self-confidence.

If Gokudera had been in a bad mood before, it only worsened when Yamamoto woke up and announced his own departure.

"Not you, too," The bomber had growled, looking ready to start throwing a few punches of his own. "I know you and Yuri are both idiots, but I thought that you, at least, would have some sense of priority."

"Sorry," Yamamoto had apologized in turn, making it clear that he didn't intend to change his stance on the matter. "But I promised Kazuo-sempai that I'd visit again by the end of the week."

"Well, at least let us go with you! You must have some instinct for self-preservation."

"Sorry," It was all he was capable of saying. "He was hoping we could have some time to catch up a little more, just the two of us."

It was a blatant lie, of course. Kazuo wasn't the type to ever turn down a potential friendship – he was like Yamamoto in that way. In fact, the two of them were so similar that they could have passed as brothers; there were a few times, back in Namimori, when they had passed as brothers. It was a harmless prank that spoke volumes of their friendship.

But things had changed over the years, and even if they still looked similar, a stranger wouldn't have any trouble guessing their lack of blood relation. Where Kazuo had grown softer, gentle and resigned, Yamamoto had only grown sharper, as if he had molded himself around the edge of his blade. The change was subtle, but it had happened quickly.

Just one year ago, Yamamoto never would have been able to lie to his friends' faces quite so convincingly.

In fact, just one year ago, he never would have imagined he'd have any reason to.

"Takeshi!" Kazuo exclaimed, a grin quickly taking the place of his surprise when Yamamoto knocked lightly on the open door to his room.

"Is this a bad time?" He asked. A nurse was stooped over Kazuo's bedside, fiddling with the I.V. stand.

"No, no, she's just switching out the bags. Come in, have a seat; you didn't tell me you were going to be visiting today!"

"It was kind of a spur of the moment thing," Shuffling in, Yamamoto took his usual place beside the bed, but he didn't sit. "Actually, I'm here because I…have something I need to talk to you about."

Kazuo frowned, the lighthearted joy receding from his face.

"You know how bad that sounds, especially coming from you, right?" He tried to joke. "Shouldn't I be the one with the 'bad news' face? I don't get many privileges while stuck in this bed, so you'd better have a good reason for taking that one away from me."

"It's about Miyu," Yamamoto blurted, and Kazuo shut his mouth with an audible click. "When did you last see her?"

"…Yesterday. Why?"

"And she looked fine?"

"Yes…? Why wouldn't she?"

"What time did you see her?"

"Seven – she always stops by for an hour after practice, I – Takeshi, what is this about?"

Yamamoto clenched his jaw, lifting his face to stare out the window as he made calculations in his head, trying to connect the dots, weighing the potential consequences of revealing too much, trying not to ignore the obvious consequences of revealing too little…

"Takeshi," Kazuo insisted. "What's going on?"

"…She showed up at our hotel last night," He finally explained. "With half of her face looking like a raw hamburger patty. She told us she had offended some boys from her school, and that they ambushed her later."

Kazuo visibly paled, his eyes wide and his mouth set into a grim line, but he said nothing.

"If you saw her at seven, and she was fine, then that means they would have attacked her hours after school had gotten out, and she's told me what her schedule is like – she's commuting all over the city, all day. The chances that all of them would just happen to be right where she was, that late in the day…it can't be a coincidence. And on the day she took us to the ice rink, I saw these bruises all over her, covering her back, her legs…those aren't the kinds of wounds you get from just falling. I may be oblivious a lot of the time, but I'm not blind or stupid. I can tell that there's more to the story than what she'd have me believe, and I'm worried she might have gotten involved in something-"

"Stop," Kazuo finally murmured, putting a hand up to cut off Yamamoto's rambling thought process. "That's enough, I get it."

"Well…what do you think? Is there something going on at her school? Should we…I don't know, do something, tell somebody? Should we let your dad know?"

"Takeshi…" The whisper was so soft, Yamamoto wondered if he'd just imagined it.

Kazuo was staring hard at his hands, which were clenched into fists on his lap, trembling slightly. He looked like he was struggling to come to a decision, teeth clamped tightly onto his bottom lip.

Finally, he heaved a large sigh and spoke, his voice flat and breathy, "It wasn't…anyone from school…who did that to her."

Yamamoto suddenly found himself wondering when he had stopped breathing.

"…what do you mean?" When Kazuo didn't immediately reply, Yamamoto couldn't keep himself from reaching out and grabbing his shoulders, jostling the hospitalized boy a bit more roughly than he had intended to. "If they didn't do that to her, then who did?"

"…You have to understand, Takeshi," Kazuo finally spoke after a moment, gripping Yamamoto's wrists with a sudden desperation that was startling. "Things haven't been easy for us! When we came here, we didn't have much money to begin with, and then I got sick and the hospital bills started piling up…eventually, it's just too much, Takeshi, it's just too much!"

"What…?" Yamamoto released him, surprised by the abrupt change of behavior, but Kazuo continued to cling to him like a lifeline. His mouth hung open while his lips continued to form shapes, like he was trying to force the words out, but no sound came.

"…it…it piles up…you know…?"

"Sempai," Kneeling, Yamamoto took his shoulders again, gently this time. "What are you trying to say?"

"…he started drinking," Kazuo finally managed, dropping his gaze to the floor. "Our dad. He…he was already working two jobs when the hospital bills started coming, and nothing's been working, and he was putting so much pressure on himself to take care of us after he left mom, and he just…"

Yamamoto's eyes were as wide as saucers.

"Your dad…hits Miyu?"

"He doesn't…I know this sounds bad, defending him, but he really doesn't mean to. He's always treated us well, you remember. He just…he's not himself when he gets drunk, he can't control himself, and all that anger and frustration he keeps bottled up just-"

"You can't be serious," Yamamoto snapped. His voice was suddenly wobbling uncontrollably. "You didn't see what Miyu looked like last night, he used her like a punching bag."

"I know, okay? I've seen the aftermath of his outbursts, I know it's bad!"

"And you're just letting it happen?" They were shouting now. "You knew about this, and you haven't said anything?"

"She and I talked about it; this is what she wants. She's strong, she can handle it-!"

"He could kill her!"

Kazuo suddenly slammed his fists down onto the edge of his bed, leaning over to scream directly into Yamamoto's face, "WHAT WOULD YOU HAVE ME DO?!"

Yamamoto took a reflexive step back, staring at his friend in shock. Kazuo never lost his temper.

"She's my family! If we tell someone and she's taken out of his custody, I can't replace him! I'm in a god damn hospital bed! Do you think the court would let me take care of a minor? She'd be taken away!" The room was suddenly filled with a rapid beeping from the heart monitor. Kazuo's face was red and tears were pooling in his eyes, but his volume only continued to increase. "Do you think I'm fine, just sitting here every day, watching her come in with a new bruise each week? How do you think I feel, knowing my sister needs someone to protect her, and I'm not able to do a single thing about it? Every day she's out there fighting, being stronger than I could ever be, taking on the whole world while it stomps her into the ground again and again and again, and all I can do is lay here and wait for my FUCKING LEG TO BE SAWED OFF!"

"S-sempai…" Yamamoto breathed, watching in horror as Kazuo dissolved into a full on tantrum. He was kicking, screaming, reaching out to knock over anything that was unfortunate enough to be within his reach. He wouldn't stop screaming.

The hospital staff had heard the commotion by now, and several nurses ran in to intervene, trying to restrain the boy and calm him down. One of them turned to Yamamoto and said something he couldn't understand.

"Wait," He protested as he was pushed towards the door. "Wait, no, th-this is my fault, I have to apologize, I can fix this-!"

With a final firm shove, he was expelled into the hall and the door was slammed in his face. He could still hear the raised voices within, even through the thick slab of wood, and he suddenly grew painfully aware of the heavy guilt gnawing at his stomach.

He turned away from the door and paced up and down the hall a few times, rubbing his hands over his face, pressing his fingers firmly against his eyes. With a frustrated yell of his own, he suddenly spun around and sent his fist flying into the wall. Pain tore through his knuckles and up his arm, but all he could think about was how satisfyingly loud that had been, how solid it had felt…and so he did it again.

And again.

And again.

He punched and punched until the skin on his knuckles split and his blood stained the wall like a signature, a testament to the fact that he had been there, and still he refused to stop until he heard someone approaching.

Not wanting to deal with trying to explain himself across a language barrier, he finally abandoned his post and briskly made his way towards the elevator.

While waiting for it to arrive from whatever floor it was stuck on, he noticed a battered old payphone. It was mounted to the wall, hidden in the shadows with only the light from a bright red 'exit' sign bouncing off its abandoned husk. Yamamoto stared at it, wondering how long it had been since the outdated piece of technology had gotten any use.

When the elevator finally arrived and slid its doors open invitingly, he didn't bother stepping in. Instead, he moved closer to the payphone, and pulled the receiver off of its hook.

All of the Nomiya's problems were monetary, he mused, staring down at the clunky device in his hand as it emitted a continuous dial tone. If they just had enough money for the hospital bills…no, for the treatment…then Kazuo would live. He would get better. And if he got better, he wouldn't just be able to protect Miyu, he could help support his family, bring in extra income. It would take the burden off their father, relieve enough stress so that he could focus on recovering and becoming the man he used to be. They didn't deserve any of this misfortune, but it could be reversed. It all came down to money – all they needed was that one little push, enough to cover the cost of Kazuo's treatment…

Yamamoto could give them that much.

Bracing the phone between his shoulder and his ear, he dug some spare change out of his pocket and fed it into the machine, then dialed the number he had committed to memory several nights ago. It rang twice, and then there was a small click followed by an English-speaking voice.

"This is Jonathan Sterling."

"It's me. Yamamoto Takeshi."

"Oh! I wasn't expecting to hear from you quite so soon, sir."

"Something came up. Do you remember that offer I asked you about?"

"I believe I know the one you're talking about. High stakes, high reward?"

"That's the one."

"Yes…what about it?"

Yamamoto took a deep breath, staring hard at the wall. Tsuna wasn't the only one steeling his resolve this week.

"…I'd like to take you up on it."

A/N: Oh, I've gone and done it again. I'm so sorry for the almost four month long break - things got a little hectic, I had classes, work, etc. I just had a really hard time motivating myself to get anything done on this story. I did use some of that time to work on another idea that I had been wanting to write up for a while, which is now published on my profile as A Mother's Love. It's been highly experimental so far, with a different tone and chapters of much shorter length, and I've had a great time writing it! It's gotten some pretty good feedback, so if you're interested and have the time, please check it out! I've got some high hopes for it.

In other news, my profile now has a nifty new poll at the top - I have several KHR story ideas in the works that I'm having trouble prioritizing, so if one particular idea strikes you as something you might like to see eventually, I'd really appreciate it if you could cast a vote! I'm nothing without my readers, after all, so all of your opinions really matter to me!

Finally, while I wish I could say I've got a chance to take it easy now that summer's here, I'm afraid the season only has an even busier schedule in store for me. I'll be doing my best to update as regularly as I can, but it's likely not going to be very swift. Still, I hope you're enjoying the story and will stick around - for those of you who are still with me, even after all this time, thank you so much for your love and support! It's all that motivates me to keep doing what I love here, so I owe you the world. Love all of you, and I hope the Summer's treating you well! Congratulations on making it through yet another year!