Quietly humming to himself, golden eyes focused on the pen between his right fingers, Ryota observes the messy lines drawn on the paper. Since losing his left hand and regaining consciousness, the green-haired teen's focus was on writing with his right hand.

He stared with some dejection at the messy paper in front of him, wondering if he should ask someone to write for him to copy or if he should look up a video on the internet. Truth be told, he felt bored and suspected that learning by copying would only serve to turn his only occupation into dust.

Without much thought, he began to twirl the pen between his fingers, only for it to slip out of them and land on the white flooring of his hospital room. He sighed, maybe watching a right-handed person twirl his pen would be a good idea.

The pen on the floor and laziness in his body, Ryota decided to set the paper aside and grab his phone. Unlocking it with the fingerprint locker, he casually scrolled through his newsletter. As usual, he found a bunch of adds and push-ups that he deleted.

The last time he checked his E-mail box was a long time ago, and deleting all of the useless messages that took up his phone's memory took some time. His spams out of the way, Ryota boredly skimmed through his remaining mails.

He yawned, half-bored half-aware of what streamed before his eyes before pausing. It was another push mail, usually nothing worth mentioning, but the subject, Senior High School Winter High, made his fingers momentarily pause.

They hovered over the trash icon for a few seconds before opening the mail. It was a brief announcement, with the initial lineups, and a link to the website responsible for the basketball event.

He hummed to himself, his mood slightly better as a light smile painted his lips, he didn't hesitate to tap on the link. It took a full minute for the website to open as the connection wasn't too good in his room, but he soon scrolled through the website.

With ease, he navigated the many tabs, knowing exactly where to and not to go. Although it had been more than a few years since he last attended the Winter Cup, he still intuitively knew where to look for. First, he went to look at the qualified teams, carelessly scrolling through the school names, sometimes pausing and knitting his brows as he tried to remember who the team was—

He wanted to lean his head on his left hand but as he unconsciously brought it closer to his face he frowned, it seemed the distance wasn't quite right— he froze, suddenly remembering his missing hand. With a shake of his head, he chuckled, resuming his reading and trying to ignore the missing limb.

His thumb selected another tab, this time to take a look at the lineups for the first round. His lips quirked up as he saw Seirin and Too's names facing one another, right— Daikicchi was the first to go up against Tetsuyacchi during the Winter Cup.

Eyes closed he refrained himself from laughing out loud, the loss made him the last one in the ranking out of all the other GOM members. Funny for the guy whose catchphrase was "The only one who can beat me is me." Then again, up against Kuroko's Seirin at the time, none of them stood a chance.

It was as if God was on his side, stars where aligned, nothing could stand in their way. He wasn't as much of an astrology fan as Shintarocchi, but if the shooting guard had told him Aquarius would be blessed with the best of luck, he would have believed it— scratch that he would have begun to fanatically follow Oha-Asa!

Cough, he digressed.

Ryota's focus back on his phone he realized he had downloaded the lineup sheet while absentminded, he mentally congratulated himself. As expected of him, even when thinking of something else he didn't forget to do the most important.

He spent another quarter of an hour on his phone before he felt it vibrating in his hands, a notification appeared on the higher part of the tactical screen, notifying an incoming message from Junichiro. Ryota spared the time a look, Juncchi probably only came out of school.

It was Monday, and since Ryota got admitted to the hospital the raven hadn't been able to visit him as he wasn't part of his family. Ryota heaved a relieved sigh, fortunately, or not they hadn't told his grandmother yet. He easily pictured the old woman having a heart attack from the news.

He quickly typed the raven a reply, telling him he would wait for him in his hospital room while he made his way to the hospital. Switching his phone off Ryota's eyes rolled to look at his left wrist and the bandages around it, he hadn't told Junichiro about his hand— it wasn't exactly something you could tell by messaging.

He silently mused to himself, golden irises contracting as he slightly narrowed his eyes, green lashes casting a shadow over them. He moved his right fingers, and with a flicker, his left hand was as good as new.

Well, at least it seemed as good as new.

He sighed, really, he didn't know if chopping his hand off in the heat of the moment was a good or bad decision anymore—

"Oya oya, why the long face Ota-kun?" Mukuro chided, suddenly comfortably sitting on the green's room's windowsill. One of his arm in a cast with noticeable white bandages peeking out of his hospital gown, the illusionist appeared completely unbothered by his injuries.

"Six-cchi," Ryota acknowledged, his lips automatically quirking up to form one of his model grins.

"Kufufu," the indigo head jumped down the window, casually making his way to seat on the end of Ryota's bed, his heterochromatic eyes swept over the room as a sly smile danced over his lips. "Is it that you feel lonely in your room?" he questioned, swinging his legs. "'Cause mines really too loud," he complained with a shake of his head.

Ryota raised a contemplative eyebrow if he remembered correctly Fran who also got admitted for a bit was in Mukuro's room, although the younger got discharged quickly. "Are Ken and Chikusa that loud?" he asked, unsure of if they even laid in the hospital, to begin with.

There was a loud, dramatic sigh from Mukuro. "Aaah, if only Ota-kun, if only. Because of some idiots, my room is now the same as those annoying Mafia," he complained, cleverly omitting that he too was part of the people who broke the walls separating their wards.

It took Ryota a few seconds to link 'those Mafia' to the Vongola, Varia, and Millefiore before he nodded, still skeptical. Why would they share a room in the first place, was it that the hospital was too small to accommodate them all with a different room?

"I see," he drawled, obviously unconvinced, nonetheless, Mukuro was (more or less) his friend. "Do you want to stay in my room?" he uttered, not even thinking about his words until he heard them, instantly regretting his thoughtless statement.

Mukuro beamed, his face seemed brighter to the point where Ryota felt momentarily blinded. "Fufufu, I was waiting for you to ask—"

Damn, of course, he was.

"Don't worry Ota-kun, I won't let you down, I'll transfer to your ward immediately!"

Ryota's eyebrow twitched in mild irritation, of course, it was a trap! "I'm not worried-ssu," he managed to answer, his smile not slipping.

He heard the indigo's obnoxious laughing, the teen obviously knew that he felt irritated. "Of course you're not," his eyes momentarily shifted downwards, his smile lowering into a thin line as he hummed to himself in contemplation. "Say, Ota-kun, you don't leave your debt unpaid do you?" he cryptically asked.

"Ha? Of course, I don't-ssu!" the ex-basketball player indignantly refuted.

"Kufufu, as I thought," Mukuro's eyes crinkled as he bent forward to ruffle Mikaël's green locks in a display of fake appeasement— without much surprise his hand got swapped away the next second. "Ota-kun, you're such a good a child," he sang.

"I'm older than you!"

"Aha, physically yes, but against me, you are still a child," he teased.

::

It was now a week into Ryota's stay at the hospital, he would get discharged in the following days, his room was back to its usual quietness after Mukuro got discharged earlier in the morning.

He rubbed his eyes, feeling slightly fatigued after seeing Junichiro off. He had yet to tell the raven about his hand, and from the way the teen acted nobody had told him. His eyes fell on his well designed left hand, a smile, a blend of pride and melancholy, painting his face. Nowadays he always kept the illusion of his hand up, except for those who saw him at the beginning nobody suspected him of missing a limb.

It was better that way anyway, he didn't know how Zhihao had done it but after he began to wear his illusion 24/7 and pretend that he never lost his hand every member of the hospital body seemed to have forgotten about his handicap. It was 'Mafia Magic' as he liked to call it, both scary and intriguing at the same time.

He laughed.

It still felt a bit strange. Although he knew that he didn't have his hand anymore he couldn't help but feel like it was still there, his psyche had yet to adapt, and with the illusion in his line of sight, he had even more troubles adapting.

There was a light knock, one much lighter than usual. It wasn't the same as Fran's careful knock or Junichiro's somewhat cheerful ones, nor was it similar to Zhihao's rhythmical ones or any other he had heard before. Although he admitted it felt somewhat similar to Reborn's, the way it was so light but the there was a type of laziness to the ones he currently heard—

He scoffed, when did he turn in a 'knocking investigator'? The way he accorded so much importance to such a worthless thing both scared and relieved him.

Scared— it wasn't something he usually did as Kise Ryota.

Relieved— it was safety measures he adopted as Mikaël Lamarre.

"Yes?"

The door opened and Ryota was greeted with the surprising sight of Verde, the ex-Lightning Arcobaleno. Although the curse was lifted, or so he heard, Verde remained in his baby form, his face painting the same phlegm as when he last saw him as his brown eyes apathetically scanned his room from behind his round glasses.

"Mhm, g'd evening, Mikaël," he greeted as he walked closer to his bed, not forgetting to shut the door behind him. The man jumped on the chair next to the bed with ease, his years as an Arcobaleno had given ample time to practice this kind of jump.

"Good afternoon, Verde," Ryota returned with some surprise. He wasn't familiar with the man, at most he knew him because of Team Fon and Team Verde's alliance, but behind that he had no recollection of the man.

Verde nodded, his eyes focused on Mikaël's false limb for a moment, leaving behind what Ryota felt like an awkward silence.

The ceiling had never been more interesting before— ah, he hadn't noticed that brown spot in the corner before, was it from an old leakage or had someone thrown something up before?

Mhm, perhaps once he got discharged he should eat some sushis? Ah, but he was craving some French food recently, a week deprived of it made him feel a bit empty—

"I'll drop by tomorrow afternoon," Verde cut, bringing Mikaël out of his awkward musing. "When are you supposed to get discharged?"

"Tomorrow morning, but I can wait until the day after tomorrow," Ryota automatically answered, not even thinking about inquiring on Verde's motives.

"No, it's better if you're not at the hospital," the scientist paused, eyes flickering sideways in thoughts before resuming. "Give me your address— wait, no, no need, Fran will give it to me. Rest."

Ryota dumbly nodded. "Okay."

::

A fluffy towel to his wet black hair, the teen carelessly tousled his locks, not carrying about how messy they would look afterward, either way, he would brush them once done, it didn't matter.

His steel-grey eye fell on the digital clock on his bedside table for the time before he caught sight of the calendar that hung a few centimeters above it. He would get some time off soon.

He closed his eyes, turning to face his dresser as he tossed the towel in his hands on his bed and took the one around his waist off. From his drawer, he pulled out some underwear before taking out a pair of sweatpants and a simple t-shirt.

His eyes fell on the obnoxious pattern that adorned it and his lips twitched. Right, this one was Mika's gift, he remembered, the green's dumb face coming to mind as he tossed it on the bed before picking up the wet towels and bringing them back to the bathroom to dry.

He returned to his room, eyes falling on the clean t-shirt before he slipped it on. The sight of his reflection in the mirror brought a tiny smile to his lips.

Nijimura switched his hone on, looking up some local and Japanese news, he raised an eyebrow. Right, Winter Cup was coming. he paused. Maybe he should drop by, see how the youngsters grew up and how Mika was doing—

A frown marred his face, speaking of which, it had been some time since he last dreamed of that. He ruffled his locks, glancing at the bottle of sleeping pills next to his bed, hopefully, his insomnia wouldn't get worse if he was Mikaël.

Any guess regarding Verde's visit?

Also, last Arc ahead, I'm thinking about doing a Q&A with the characters (OCs and Canon ones). Should I?

Thanks for reading, until next time^^