Disclaimer: I do not own Katekyo Hitman Reborn! Nor any of its characters. All rights and works belong to Amano Akira.

We seldom see what's right under our noses, atleast not until it blows up in our faces and we face the threat of losing something precious forever.

Time – 01:00 a.m

It was a flawless night. A full moon brightly giving way to lost strangers, wind caressing the trees and the temperature ideal enough to make you want to abandon the artificial comforts of your home and return to nature. All in all, perfect. However, one particular scene occurring in the confines of an apartment would lay distress to this perfect night. The scene of a raven haired woman, bustling and shuffling around in her bed, seemingly under great anguish.

Yes, to Miura Haru, 21 years of age and a part of one of the most fearsome Mafia families, this particular night was far from perfect. Why, you ask? That would be a good question. Seeing as the person in question herself did not know the reason for her discomfort. There, from the volatile fusion of a peaceful night and a conflicting dream, escaped a small whisper,

"Damn you, you explosive bastard. "

_._

Time – 01:01 a.m

"The fuck?"

These words rang out in the large room, disturbing the peace and calm of the night. A certain foul-mouthed boy got off the floor where he had landed and rubbed his head, eyes a mixture of annoyance, confusion and sleep. He had been sleeping contently when he was rudely awoken by his head hitting the marble floor.

"Damn, I should have listened to the Tenth and gotten the floors carpeted. Fuck that, how'd I fall off the bed in the first place?"

Again, a good question. For he owned a king sized bed (he didn't need it but owning a queen sized bed was a blow to his pride) and as a principle, didn't toss or turn. This caused a signal to go off in his head that rekindled a few memories that he didn't know he still had. Memories of his mother telling him, that when people said something unpleasant about you in your sleep, you would roll off and hit your head. As a child, he didn't know whether his mother was telling him the truth or not but as he grew older he shrugged it off as some of the crap parents told their children to make them behave, such as the Boogeyman or what have you.

"Could it be?..."

"Oh fuck it. It doesn't matter anyway. Anyone who has a problem can say it to my face. I'll roast anyone who does. Nothing to lose sleep over. "

But yet, even as he lay back down to plunge into a peaceful slumber, he was uncertain. Because despite his bad-ass i-don't-give-a-shit demeanor, he was just a smidge superstitious. So with this shred of uncertainty nagging at him, he drifted into sleep. But what he didn't know is that that one minute had marked the beginning of something that would alter his very soul.

Authors Note: Thank you for reading. I apologize for it being so short. Constructive criticism is very much welcomed.