notes – would anyone be interested if I continued this?

a case of poverty

Haru stands at the altar with the whole Family watching. She smiles in the biggest way she can while holding the bouquet of flowers. The only thing that is wrong is the fact that she is just a little too far to the left.

Her dress is only purple ruffles, so unlike the white roses of the train Kyoko carries along with her glassed steps. She takes the hand of a mafia boss, smiling with rosy cheeks; Haru thinks that she looks beautiful standing there in her queenish veil, that she matches the groom down to the colour of her eyes.

They say their vows and let their lips meet; her best friend's last name is no longer Sasagawa, and the rows of onlookers roar with celebration and dab their eyes with handkerchiefs. Haru hugs Kyoko and smells the essence of true love and happiness on her skin - she would be lying if she said she wasn't happy for the bride. She embraces Tsuna as well, and when his hands wrap around her waist to return the gesture, she cannot hold back the tears any more.

"I-I'm just so happy."

The biggest lie she's ever said is born on the wedding day of her best friend.

She has two choices: fight or flight.

Kyoko has little option to concern herself over. It's not about her or about Tsuna or about their marital bonds - it's the fact that she has to take care of the little one in her womb now. The woman outgrows her foolishness with elegance, and Haru wishes that she could do the same. But Haru just holds onto Kyoko's cold hands and runs her thumb over those worried knuckles. Kyoko stands with the resilience of a statue, waiting for her decision.

"You don't have to go with me if you don't want to, Haru," she says with understanding and warmth, with the voice that Tsuna falls in love with every day.

Haru laughs and says 'silly me' when she knows this very well. But she is heavy with uncertainty, wondering if she can control herself come the time Kyoko is away and Tsuna is all battered up and broken.

"Take care of him, will you?" Kyoko asks even though she does not need to. The tears are invisible behind the strength she's cultivated from being a mafiasco's wife. Haru kisses her friend on the cheek and helps her into the backseat, binding herself to promise with one final squeeze of Kyoko's fingers.

She arms herself with two revolvers and slips a pistol under the hem of her skirt. Haru ignores Tsuna's exasperated pleas and Gokudera's incredulous snorts, and follows Yamamoto when they storm the streets. The first few times she flinches when his sword pierces through the shirt of an enemy and the blood dyes her skirt a dark, dark red. After a few weeks of countless skirmishes and dodging daggers, she gets used to the sound of screams and the recoil of a bullet when it leaves her palm. She endures a few injures, an old-fashioned arrow through her calf and a punch right below her stomach that takes too long to heal. She doesn't like it when Gokudera heaves her over his shoulder and runs along the uneven pavements of Florence, but she can't bring it in herself to argue when there's a knife stabbed into her covered heels.

Sometimes she cries into the back of his blazer (because she is a lady and a lady is not supposed to have dark red hands and a gun emptied of ammo) when he is too busy lighting dynamite to notice.

And it's funny how despite all these bruises, the blow that wounds her the most is watching Tsuna dial Japan at four in the morning, just to hear a woman's voice.