Disclaimer: Nope, no ownership for Katekyo Hitman Reborn.

They just poured relentlessly, uncaring if someone was suffering from their deluging treatment, weighing my shoulders down with the depressing atmosphere it's providing me. My hair was rather heavy from dampness and my jacket was unpleasantly cold, giving me unwanted goose-bumps that are emerging from my skin hidden within. Just keep on walking, that's right, keep on walking. It'll happen in an unexpected moment. Luck wouldn't just turn its back on me, right? It would just be unfair to overlook a young isolated girl, like me, walking with the unfriendly rain, tormenting her about her life.

I wanted to start over, that's all.

But that seems to be rather difficult for a child who possesses no experience about how to recommence life. I'm not experienced enough with education to acquire a job, I have no home to shelter myself and I gave up my only chance of living. I still do have support from some in my previous Famiglia, but it would have been preferable if they were here beside me. But I couldn't remain there, observe the heartless others thoroughly support the Estraneo's abusive doings- it was just obviously immoral and cruel and I don't want to receive a reputation like that. Experimenting with children, injecting chemicals and threateningly order them to carry out things they would refuse to do. How would they feel if they were treated like that? Clearly, they never thought of it… Somehow, I gained an imagination of their heart being ripped out as a welcome for their job. Isn't that just pleasant?

This kind of thing comes about when you happen to be involved with the mafia.

"Youngsters like you aren't allowed in the mafia, kid. Get out! And, what's with the hair?"

A man in his middle ages was dragging a platinum haired kid by the back collar. The kid struggled, choking from the constriction of his shirt against his neck. After harshly dropping him into a little puddle, the man stomped away, cursing under his breath, his time wasted by a kid.

I examined the expelled youngster twisting his top to squeeze out the dampness then combing his ashy locks in frustration. He, too, cursed. From my view, it was rather incoherent- though, quite a bit young for him to learn rainbows of words like that. It wouldn't be bad to befriend him, right? He seems to be suffering from a similar dilemma from me; perhaps we could help each other… Obviously, we need as much support we could get; it's a way of survival, in my opinion. Survival.

He noticed my approach and he sent me a threatening grunt.

"No need to do that, I don't know that man who kicked you out," I defended. "Man, I think he just came out of-" I stopped myself. Dirty thoughts should be kept to myself, I must be kept disciplined.

He stared at me narrowly. "What do you want then?" he responded, his breath seems to reek of cigarettes.

I held out my hand. "Elena. Nice to meet you…?" I trailed out, indicating him to continue for me.

His gaze shifted to my eyes then back to me. "Isn't it dangerous to give your name out to strangers?"

"Well, seeing as how you got kicked out like a piece of garbage and hearing what that old man said…" I thought for a moment. "Are you an illegitimate child?"

His face twisted to a fuming expression. I hit a nerve, but it's better than taking long with picking an alternative. I mean, I couldn't just say: 'Did your mommy or daddy have an affair with another person?" That would have been way more heartless.

"What's it to you?"

"Sorry. Let's put that aside, since we're both solitary travellers so…"

"No."

"You know, we could help each other a-"

"What I want is… never mind."

"You want to be a part of a mafia Famiglia, don't you?"

His eyes twitched in annoyance. "You're not going to leave me alone aren't you?"

"I want the same thing as you, and, yes, I'm not going to leave you alone."

"Why so?" it was obvious he was getting annoyed. So easily?

"Because we're both practically hoboes."

He lightly chuckled, but the annoyed expression still within. "Is that it?"

I grinned, probably the first time in weeks. "Survival, dude. Survival."

"Well, I'm doing this my way." he turned away from me. "See you." he waved with two fingers as he walked away.

I made a popping noise with my lip and shrugged in disappointment. I also turned my heels and walk off. It was worth a try, but I do hope we'd meet once again and have a proper conference. Plus, I didn't get his name. You could say I'm rather willing. Like I said: survival.

So once again, I'm lonesome and walking blindly towards a future that I'm unaware of. It's tedious indeed, but I got to get used to it. Patience is a necessity… I'll try my best on that.

Being involved with large, no, gigantic, built and certainly terrifying troop of (mafia) men was like a psychotic person's point of view of 'fun'. But just a few hours ago, I, or should I say we, were in the middle of such crazy predicament, we were fortunate enough to escape. You could describe it as a close death experience perhaps, but let's be more poetic. It was like facing Death straight into bloodshot eyes. Okay, maybe 'bloodshot' made it an exaggeration…

He spat on the ground with red-coloured spit. "If you haven't called him plump and obese, our punishment would have been less painful," he snarled. "I mean, I would have called him one myself, but I wouldn't say it that blunt."

I gaped before responding, "Well, he's got to know the truth, sooner or later. I prefer the 'sooner'."

"Are you just naturally like this? Being innocently insensitive." he cracked a small smile.

I shrugged. "I just say what comes out of my cursed mouth."

"Cursed, indeed."

I dug into my bag, feeling for any soft texture of the bandages. I eventually found one after noticing Hayato, a name he was called with earlier (and doesn't it sound like Japanese?), stare at me with bewildered eyes. He's probably thinking: "What the hell? Are you looking for buried treasures there or something?" I pulled out a long rope of bandages before wrapping it tightly around Hayato's cut-open arms. He winced a few times and frequently complained about being so forceful; I just snapped a 'shut it' every time.

"There done. You can cease your ranting already," I uttered.

Hayato cringed as he touched his sealed graze.

"If you don't want it to hurt, don't touch it, idiot."

He glared at me. "Shut up, woman."

I examined him, noticing that he looks rather familiar. His features were comparable to… a female luminary. I'm not declaring he's feminine (because he looks absolutely boyish); I'm saying that they are rather similar to each other.

"What?"

I snapped out of my gaze. "You look like a woman." No, it wasn't supposed to come out like that…

I could sense his teeth clench behind his sealed mouth. His brows furrowed in irritation. Eyes shooting imaginary red lasers at my own, it would have been painful but he isn't some natural being from a comic book. I would have taken back what I just said but, according to my intuition, it was too late. He looks rather offended and will not let it go until he literally knocks some sense into me.

"Just because my hair is long…"

"I didn't mean for it to come out that way! I was thinking something and… an-"

"It's my fucking hairstyle!"

I tilted my head to the side, my attention directed at his hair when he mentioned 'hairstyle'. It reminded me of an octopus… and a mosquito?

"Oi! Are you listening to me, woman?"

"No."

"You…"

"I mean, yes!"

"What did I say then?"

"You said: 'Oi! Are you listening to me, woman?'?"

As his head turned to the side, clenched teeth now exposed, in a stiff movement with his brows shifting from up then down. Ha, will you look at that- a déjà vu. That was similar to how Plump reacted when I revealed the obvious truth about him.

Hayato sighed, not before uttering a 'damn woman'. He was already tired of trying to blow me up and shamefully failing, so this was the only available option for him- cursing about me. He dug into his pockets and clutched something. Before he could take it out, I held his wrist and kept his hand in place inside his pocket. I knew what he was going to pull out. I allowed him to use it as it was his only method of staying discreet to be able to use his dynamites, but those things were not needed at this moment.

"Those cancer sticks could kill, as you should already know," I said with lecturing expression.

"So? I'll be fine," he grunted.

"You say that now, but after a few years, you're going to complain to me about letting you choke on those." I stared at his eyes directly, indicating I was totally serious.

He loosens his grip on the box but he looked at me with that glare of his. "You're an annoying bitch, you know that?"

"Yes, but at least you respect me enough to do as I say."

That hit a nerve.

"Oi! I don't fucking do things you say!"

This was a start of a beautiful friendship (mentally rolling my eyes)… But, I guess, we could work on it. Besides, he agreed to it. There's really no escaping it now after muttering a word of agreement. Everything was sealed in royal tape and he has no special scissors to cut them, unless I lent him one.

Shamal…

"You said something?" Hayato asked.

I blinked. Did I say that out loud?

"You know Shamal?" he asked.

"No, but he is quite known for being a perverted doctor," I answered. "He refuses to take male patients, right?"

I probably might have came across him in a bar holding two drunk women beside him. I'm guessing they're his 'patients'.

He clicked his tongue. "Old bastard."

"Met him?"

His fangs flashed. "Know him? He comes to my mansion with different women."

"Wouldn't he have STD by now?"

He shrugged his shoulders and leaned on whatever's nearby to make himself comfortable. I, myself, made myself comfortable too. I crossed my legs and tried to cover as much skin with my skirt as the wind was getting chilly. I slouched while looking at the clouds move with ease, being led by the wind. How lucky, they have something to lead them and guide them on where to move. Wait, why do I envy such lifeless things? It's not like those clouds can get a job and work at a café or something, and use their money for new homes and relax in front of a fireplace. No point for being green at all.

"I never learned your name properly," I started.

He looked at me. "Hayato. Hayato Gokudera."

"What's with the Japanese name?"

"My mother was half-Japanese. You should know the rest."

He answered it as if it was an obvious answer and, also, as if he wanted to get the answer over with. So… I should guess his father was a Mafia and he had an affair with his mother? With Mafia men, it would be quite common. You know how those powerful and dangerous men are: always thinking they could lay their hands insolently on any women they see. Rather disgusting. I shouldn't say anything further about that topic. My guess is that he's three-quarters Italian and one-fourth Japanese.

"You know, Japanese people usually refer others by their surname," I mentioned.

"Yeah, so?"

"Well, I want to nickname you 'Hayadera'."

Author's Note: Any faults at all? (:

Hope you enjoyed it.