The first time Natalia Ivanov met her future Boss, she felt blatant admiration and overwhelming fear in her heart. He didn't know she existed. She was one of the many people of the masses.

The second time, he saw her. One of his subordinates took her out of her bar, dragging her to the headquarter as she showed some potential and motivation. He barely spared her a glance, a shiver, a strange blend of fright and excitation went down her spine.

She was assigned to Secretary Sasha's squad, the Lightning Guardian at the time. The fifth one to take up the position. Natalia's role was minor if life was a play, she would be Passerby C.

The first time he addressed her, Secretary Vasiliy was in function. He was the eighth one to take up the Lightning Guardian's position. "Between him and you, who is the most useless?" were his exact words.

She remembered how the man she called her superior scaredly stared at the ground, unable to lift his head and sending her pleading glances as she gathered her nerves.

Vasiliy was the one who raised her position to right-hand woman, she owed him so much. But Vasiliy was suspected of treason.

Were there proofs? No.

Was he guilty? Maybe.

Was Natalia kind? No.

"I am," was her sober answer.

She can still remember the distinct curve of his lips at her words before he ushered the man next to him to move. In one swift movement, the Rain Guardian, the Cleaner, the best hitman in the Bratva, shot him down.

"Welcome Nonna, do not let me down," Aleksey uttered, his blank face displaying a shadow of a smile as he gestured for the girl to take the ring and earing from the still lukewarm corpse beside her.

Natalia steeled her nerves, gave a reverent bow, she silently took both pieces of jewelry, sliding the signet ring and putting the earing on.

She lifted her honey brown eyes, squarely meeting those mesmerizing pools of gold.

She was twenty-five. That was twelve years ago. She became the ninth Lightning Guardian, Nonna.

::

"The hell is that-ssu?" Ryota muttered, unknowingly letting one of his old speech habits out in the process. His golden eyes stared at the leather-wearing males around him warily as he absentmindedly stroked Fuuta's red hair, the boy was kept in his embrace since he'd arrived minutes earlier.

His eyes dazedly skipped over his underclassmen and instead focused on the unknown figures. He thought he recognized the long silver-haired male. His eyes narrowed.

Ah, that terrorist from a week ago!

He scrunched up his nose and unconsciously tightened his hold on the younger boy in his arms. His eyes, then flickered to a spiky-haired sturdy-looking male, he was crouching in front of the silver head. His face was riddled with piercings, and his sharp eyes stared down on them.

Mikaël's focus remained on the piercings which littered his face, and he couldn't help but shiver. His left-hand unconsciously reached for his earlobe, feeling his earing which he now hid under a thin veil of mist. How painful that must have been, he mentally dreaded.

His sight traveled to the right and fell on an extravagant looking adult. He squinted, assessing the stranger's build, their clothing and nodded to himself. Though his haircut didn't suit his taste, he admitted the man seemed to have some fashion fibers in himself. Honestly thinking, both of them should be able to get along.

Next to the dyed haired male, on the far left was a gigantic robot. Clouds of smoke escaped from its nostrils at irregular intervals, giving off a low growling sound. It seemed devoid of anything— not so surprising as it was a machine, but it didn't make much of a contrast in the bunch of foreigners.

It seemed to fit quite well, to be honest. A bit too much even.

Ryota forcefully detached his gaze from the tall silhouette, the metallic can made him unsettled, and he didn't like the feeling. What greeted him was a messy mop of blond. The boy, whose age seemed close enough to his physical one, wore a crazed grin as he chuckled away. Hands stuffed in his trench's pockets he swayed a bit, unable to stay in place.

At last, Ryota looked at the man in the middle. With a scar, most probably from a burn, covering half of his face, he without a doubt was the leader. Mikaël had learned from his past experiences, and from the way the man carried himself, it was clear he was the one in charge.

Ryota bit his lower lip, his hand which gently stroked Fuuta's head slowed down. And now? What were they supposed to do? There was no need to ask, looking at his underclassmen, though they seemed determined, it was evident they couldn't win if a fight broke out.

He remembered Chrome's teaching about the way to use his 'Mist Flames,' or so it was called. His left hand went to his side as he began to twirl his fingers, leaving small sparks of indigo to dance around his slender fingers.

Silently, he gathered bits of power in his palm, readying himself to release it and allow them a chance of exit. His golden eyes progressively veiled themselves with indigo before clashing with a hooded figure. He shivered, his eyes widened, and losing the small concentration he had, his gathered flames dispersed.

He instinctively took a step back, and the hooded figure looked at him. Only—

"Hold it, Xanxus!"

Mikaël wiped his head the voice's way and hearing the commotion around him, he had to admit. When he approached Tsunayoshi, he hadn't expected the teen to have troubles waiting for him at every corner.

He kind of regretted joining the baseball club last year a getting acquainted with Takeshi now.

Well, no use in dwelling over it now. And anyway, the more Ryota listened, the more he felt he had fallen in a bottomless pit. It was too late to run and get out of this shit.

Really, if having a missing father meant family matters were so complicated, he didn't mind never knowing who his mother's man was.

"A one on one battle against them!" Tsunayoshi's screech pulled Mikaël out of his family musing.

"Yes," the boy's father, Iemitsu if Ryota caught it right, nodded. "It is also written to wait for further instructions."

As if on cue, a crystalline laugh echoed in the now unusually crowded crossroad. Soon after, emerging from the darkness and coming out from behind the so-called Varia, a Chinese man appeared.

He seemed unbothered by the sudden rise of killing intent aimed at him, and instead simpered amused. His fan was opened, hiding the bottom half of his face and gently fanning him. He gave off a noble yet languid aura as he walked through the group of dangerous hitmen.

The man, each step lighter than the previous one, elegantly walked up to Xanxus. His eyes flashed with hidden amusement before he closed his fan, a clear clack sounded, breaking the tension he had brought.

"Evening," he greeted, voice as smooth as silk. His blue eyes, which were gently curved settled on each one of the teens, giving them a reassuring smile and making them unconsciously relax. The small tattoo underneath his right eye seemed invisible in contrast to his irises' brightness.

Next, to him, the Varia who observed the scene scoffed and smirked. Those kids' level of vigilance was unequivocally low.

The man, bored out of his mind, kept up his composure and with light steps strode to stand at the center of the crossroad. He stopped, and a girl who wore an expensive-looking black suit appeared beside him.

She seemed troubled but nonetheless kept a pleasant smile on her lips, her features naturally softening each time she met someone's gaze into something more sensual.

"Lord Zhihao," she whispered with a polite dip of her head, tone respectful and devoid of any type of sensuality as she greeted her fellow Guardian.

Zhihao merely spared her a glance, his pools of blue seemed uncharacteristically cold for a moment before he looked back at the crowd. "Nonna."

She mentally winced at the nickname. Oh, how she despised it. It only served as a reminder to tell her she was a disposable chess piece. The one with the less value out of all the Guardians.

She clenched her fists, but the feeling of her neatly trimmed nail beginning to pierce her skin made her relax, preventing any of her blood from spilling.

She exhaled, and cleared her throat, catching the people's attention. "Buonasera, Sir Iemitsu, Sir Xanxus," she began in fluent Italian. "Lord Reborn," she calmly added upon noticing the Arcobaleno.

Her voice was sweet like honey, extremely pleasing to the ears and seemed to be expertly laying traps along the way as she spoke.

Her honey brown eyes swiftly went over the group of teens, zeroing on the brown-haired teenager, Sawada Tsunayoshi she deduced.

"こんばんは, Sir Tsunayoshi," she resumed, swiftly switching to Japanese, her voice devoid of any foreign accent she appeared to be a native.

Now done with the formalities, she straightened, shifting the ambiguous air around herself to something more imposing. "Following Sir Timoteo's request and My Lord's wishes, the бриз Bratva shall be in charge of this battle."

She took out two parchments from under her blazer, each one folded and sealed with red wax. "If you will," she said to the Iemitsu and Xanxus as she threw them the documents.

Not waiting for their confirmation, she picked up from where she left. "Therefore, as My Lord's official delegation, we, Lord Zhihao and myself, shall be responsible for overlooking your battles."

She paused, waiting for the assembly to digest all of the information. Seeing some of them beginning to converse between themselves, and the blooming smirk on Xanxus face while Iemitsu's frown grew, she deduced it was time to wrap it up.

"As of now, do take our words as Sir Timoteo's will. The battle shall proceed in an orderly manner starting from tomorrow night," mentioning night time she unconsciously glanced at her wristwatch. She waited for them to ask questions before flickering her gaze to Zhihao on her side.

The clacking of a fan opening itself brought the attention back to him. "As said, we will overview every one of your battles," he said. "You can refer to me as Liú Zhihao, a pleasure," he introduced with a bow, well, mostly to the teens who didn't know him.

"There," he indicated, pointing his fan in the short-haired girl's direction, "is Natalia Ivanov," he said, slightly disinterested. The girl simpered, dipping her head in acknowledgment, the sensual air around her back.

"Since we are in charge, and Our Lord," his voice seemed to drip with amusement at the appellation. "Has oh so kindly been given free rein over this battle, do not worry about the preparations," he paused and his grin stretched.

"This battle to find out who the rightful Vongola heir is shall be this future heir's gift to Our Lord, a Requiem to prove your respect," he drawled.

Tsunayoshi stared at him doubtfully, while Iemitsu, Xanxus, and Reborn narrowed their eyes at his words.

"I truly hope you did your homework," he mused as he turned around, his cheongsam fluttering in the wind as he chuckled.

Natalia nodded, readying herself to follow suit before halting her steps, her melodious voice rang through the night. "We shall meet tomorrow at midnight by Namimori Junior High," she bade. "Do not be late," her figure vanished into the night.

Mikaël remained on his spot, his hand rested atop Fuuta's head, the stroking gesture had long since stopped now. He didn't know how to feel about all this.

His hand unconsciously reached for his mother's memento.

::

"'You okay, Mika?" Junichiro worriedly asked as he gazed at his green-haired friend who was slumped on his desk. His hand reached for the teen's head, and he systematically poked it.

"Yeah," Mikaël mumbled, the answer came out as muffled as he vainly tried to swat the others hand away. "Just tired," he whispered before yawning.

Jun hummed, evading the green's hand and resuming his poking, maybe he thought it would keep his friend awake. "Was it so hard to find Fuuta?"

Ryota's breathing hitched, his shoulders tensed up before he exhaled a somewhat shaky breath and relaxed his posture. "Nah," he answered, voice cheerful as he sat up from his slumping form.

The change in demeanor was painfully obvious, and it made Jun frown, he felt worried for his friend. "Sleep," he admonished with a sigh as he grabbed the mop of green and forced it to rest on the desk. "I'll tell you when Teach comes in."

Ryota who found himself cheek against the wooden desk wryly smiled. A weak laugh slipped past his lips before he buried his face in his arms. "Mmm, thanks, Juncchi," he whispered, closing his eyes.

Junichiro paused, simpered, and shook his head defeatedly. He was only 'Juncchi' when Mikaël was out of it, how should he take it?

"Don't sweat it," he said as his hand carefully petted the green's soft hair. His dark eyes narrowed and he silently sighed, though worried for his friend, he didn't know how to deal with it.

::

Reborn stood atop of Namimori Junio High's rooftop. He calmly laid on the concrete, Leon his pet lizard silently curled up rested on his stomach. His fedora was lightly dipped, casting a shadow above his face as he kept his eyes closed.

Not too far from him, he could hear the sound of ragged breathing and the light almost unnoticeable sound of droplets hitting the ground. His ear twitched, Dino and Hibari were, still sparring.

He hoped the first battle wasn't the one of the Cloud, it would be troubling for their trump card to lose because he exhausted himself sparring beforehand.

Speaking of which, Reborn frowned as he remembered his old friend's pupil's words. "A Requiem," he whispered. "A Requiem devoted to the бриз Bratva."

Leon stirred up at his master's voice before resettling himself and resuming his nap.

Zhihao's words echoed in his head, and he sincerely wanted to shot the man for speaking in riddles. "Homeworks," he said as his voice trailed off, the sparring sounds easily covering it up.

Few seconds passed before he abruptly snapped his eyes open. His round eyes were sharply narrowed as he sat up. "Could it be," he paused, standing up and flickering his eyes to look at Hibari's bloody figure.

"An homage to every one of his Guardians?"

His frowned deepened.

Buonasera: Good evening

こんばんは/Konbanwa/: Good evening

бриз/briz/: breeze, land breeze, land wind

Thank you for reading, until next time^^

Character Pic:

-Liú Zhihao

-Natalia Ivanov