Disclaimer: Nothing is mine, except maybe for Setsuna. I like her. She's cool I guess.

Author's Note: Just wanted to give a quick shout out to all of you readers out there! Just surpassed 400 favorites! That's so insane. You guys are amazing, thank you so very much for the support, it means more than I can describe that you guys like my brain child this much. Thank you :)

Target Twenty Four:

Defective Hardware

"Wait… what happened yesterday exactly?" Setsuna asked, stifling a chuckle. She had been training with Ryohei the day before, and apparently missed out on the fun. Yamamoto laughed himself just thinking about it, almost unable to tell the story.

"The little ones dined and dashed, and Tsuna tried to work off their bill. Except he may have dropped a few dishes in the process." He left out the part where Bianchi gave everyone, himself included, food poisoning. Setsuna didn't need that imagery.

"A few?" Setsuna glanced at the pile of shattered ceramic in the kitchen trash. "That would explain why we're using these old plates." Lifting one for emphasis, she realized that the backup dishes were actually nicer than the ones they usually used at TakeSushi.

At that Yamamoto's smile turned somewhat sad. He recalled a time when those plates were all they used. They had been her's.

"What?" the blonde asked, scrunching her brows together. It was rare that Yamamoto got that quiet.

"Ah, nothing," he shook his head, quickly plastering a wider grin on his lips. Setsuna saw right through it though.

"Are you sure?" she pressed. "You seemed to get upset when I mentioned the plates… is there something significant about them?"

For a moment he looked taken aback, but he recovered almost immediately. Making Setsuna wonder if she saw the crack in his façade at all.

"We just haven't used the plates in a long time is all," he said, shrugging.

Although that made Setsuna all the more curious.

"Hey, Takeshi-kun, do you think we could talk some time tonight?" she asked, studying his face as she spoke. "There's something I've been meaning to ask you."

For a moment she considered that she could possibly be mistaken for trying to confess to him. A blush just about crept up her cheeks, then she noticed the obliviously innocent look that crossed his features. Honestly, she almost felt sorry for the fangirls that pursued him so endlessly.

Even if they were obvious about it, which they were, it didn't matter. He just didn't think that way.

"I was actually going to go somewhere tonight," he ran his thumb across his chin. "Would you like to join me?"

"Sure!" she agreed. "My shift still lasts another hour though."

Yamamoto glanced around the Sushi restaurant then back at her. "I don't think anyone would notice if you left now."

Setsuna scoffed. "This is why your dad doesn't trust you with anything, you know?"

The raven chuckled. "I know, but maybe we can get a jog in before sunset. That is the best time to after all."

"Ryo-sensei says the best time to run is in the morning as the sun is rising."

"Maa maa," Yamamoto leaned onto the counter beside her. "I'll ask Pops, then, alright? So I can prove it to you!"

Setsuna shook her head in disbelief before letting him go. After all he wasn't wrong. There was barely any need for her today. She had spent the last few hours cleaning up the mess that Tsuna and apparently the rest of the gang caused in her absence anyway.

A part of her felt somewhat bitter at being left out, but that's the way things had been as of late. She'd be lying if she said she hadn't been lonely. Sure, she was busy with Ryohei's lessons, school and work but at times she wondered if they'd include her even if she were available.

Deciding it best not to think about that, she focused instead on planning what to say to Yamamoto.

Setsuna had a semblance of who the spirit stalking him was, but really she knew nothing about their situation. Despite how open and exuberant the Yamamotos were, they could be quite tight lipped when they felt like it.

The blonde felt somewhat guilty for planning to coerce the truth out of Yamamoto, but it needed to be done. For his sake and the sake of the spirit following to him.

"Pops said you could go!" Yamamoto burst as he bounded back into the room. He seemed more excited than she had ever seen him before. Guilt threatened to take root inside her for having such an ulterior motive, but she batted it away before it could.

Then Setsuna slipped out of her apron, and folded it over the wall hook. "Let's go."

-Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ-

Sweat glided down Setsuna's face as she finally slowed to a stop. Leaning forward to catch her breath, the braid in her hair slid over her shoulder. "You're right, Takeshi-kun," she puffed between breaths. "It's gorgeous out."

Yamamoto, who wasn't even sweating, chuckled. "Told you it was worth it."

At that she couldn't help but laugh, but it still made her lungs wheeze from the effort. Even though she had been running almost every day her body was still rather weak.

How Yamamoto could run while lugging around that duffel bag though was beyond her.

"So what are we doing here?" she asked, having finally caught her breath. "And what is the bag for?"

Rather than answering her, the raven haired athlete procured something from the duffel. The sunset shone off the metallic face of it in an array of oranges, reds and purples. But beneath that she recognized the shape immediately.

"A bat?"

"Yup, this is my first time back at the game since… you, know," he trailed off, gazing into the reflections of the metal bat. "But! I figured who better to come with me than you!"

"I don't know the first thing about baseball," she countered, not too keen on trying to reenact his last time at the bat.

"You can watch if you want, the machine will do all the work!"

"Machines?" Then Setsuna realized where they were. The batting cages. "Oh."

"Come on," he bumped shoulders with her. Well, more accurately her shoulder bumped his bicep.

"Okay," she conceded, eyeing the pitching machines warily.

Hefting the bag back onto his arm, Yamamoto led Setsuna to one of the cages. "I figured we could talk after if you still wanted to."

"Yeah," she agreed. The blonde followed closely to his heels, afraid to get separated from him. Not for her sake but for his. In the back of her mind she could still see the spirit snapping his arm in half as if it were nothing more than a chopstick.

She hadn't ever known a ghost to be that strong before. Lavina, while volatile, didn't have crazy brute strength the dark haired specter did. At least at that point anyway.

If she had been left alone would Lavina have gotten that bad? Was this spirit an actual Poltergeist? Setsuna regretted not asking Giotto more about what happens to ghosts when they reach that point. Because honestly, even if a Poltergeist were right in front of her she doubted she would be able to recognize it as one.

"Ready?" Yamamoto asked, although when she looked up she realized he had been asking himself more than her.

The pitching machine began to whir and shake wildly. Roaring to life like an old, metal beast.

"Does it always do this?" she wondered nervously. Apparently he must have heard the apprehension in her voice because he gave her a quick look of reassurance.

"Maa maa, relax Setsuna."

Then the machine cracked like a whip and the first ball rocketed from the hole in the front. But that wasn't what the blonde was watching. Even though he had told her to calm down, he seemed like a ball of nerves himself.

Yamamoto gripped the handle of the bat so hard his knuckles turned white, and his posture, unlike his usual one, was rigid and tight. Setsuna couldn't see his face from this angle but she imagined it the usual way it got when he picked up a bat – pointed and determined.

In one burst of energy he swung just at the right time and a loud smack filled the air, reverberating off the caged fence around them. The bat made perfect contact with the ball and it flew the opposite direction.

Then the next ball popped out.

Setsuna noticed this time he was a little more relaxed, yet not all the way. With each subsequent ball he seemed to get more comfortable, more himself. Until at some point he started laughing.

Setsuna almost joined him.

Almost.

An icy chill trickled down her spine. I should have known, the blonde cursed herself.

After all, the spirit showed up whenever Yamamoto was playing a sport lately. Especially baseball.

"Takeshi-kun…"

"Hmmm?" he turned, smacking yet another ball towards the far wall. He didn't even have to look as he swung this time.

"I think we should go soon." Surreptitiously she glanced around. The woman however was nowhere to be seen.

"Is something wrong?" he asked, with another absent hit. Setsuna swore that ball came a little faster than its predecessors. Not that it mattered though.

"I'd just really like to have that talk," she replied lamely. Yamamoto's brows furrowed slightly, and it seemed like he was about to give in. Then the next ball caught him by surprise.

He just barely got the bat up in time.

"Huh?" he gave the machine a quizzical look. Before he could even turn it off it started spitting balls out rapid fire. Setsuna would have been amazed at how accurately he was hitting them despite the speed… if it weren't for the angry rumbling that filled the air that is.

Again, the blonde checked for the spirit but all she noticed was a heavy aura, as if the woman's presence were everywhere at once.

Which, it might as well have been considering how every other machine was suddenly aimed at their cage.

"Takeshi-kun!" Setsuna projected above the noise of the old pitching machines. "We should really go!" Instead Yamamoto whacked away several balls at once. He was actually keeping up with the pace rather well, but he was quickly starting to get overwhelmed. "Come on!" she shouted, but her voice this time was lost as the other machines finally started fire.

The sound of it was unlike anything Setsuna had ever heard before. It was like the stomping of a million gazelle at once. A massive stampede. The chain link fence walls swelled in as pro speed balls slammed themselves into them trying to get through.

There was screaming behind them as workers scrambled to figure out what was going on, but they seemed to be running away rather than running toward the sudden onslaught of baseballs.

Setsuna didn't blame them.

Yamamoto however appeared to be in a trance. There was a fierce set to his features, as if he was determined to hit the balls at such an impossible speed. She wondered if he even noticed the dents in the fence around him.

"Damnit," Setsuna cursed, darting towards him. She had to duck under another swing, which she swore hit what looked like four balls at once. How he even timed that she had no idea.

Be impressed later, she admonished herself.

With as much strength as she could muster, she pulled the raven by the back of his shirt. He was much more solid than she was expecting, but after a moment he budged. From the force of the tug though she tumbled backwards and Yamamoto quickly followed.

Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop!

It was good they hit the ground when they did because the pitching machine bumped the speed up even more, and had they not, well, they'd be black and blue.

"What were you thinking?!" she demanded. "That thing could have really hurt you!"

Yamamoto tried his best to look reproachful, but he didn't pull it off all that well. If he was being honest he wanted to see if he was good enough to hit pitches that were going that fast. It was his first time back, and as much as he didn't want to admit it he needed to prove himself; to prove that he was still as good as before.

If not better.

Setsuna opened her mouth to shout some more obscenities at the idiot, but the sound of metal grinding against metal caught her attention. The pitching machine in front of them, which had been aimed to shoot up, was slowly adjusting itself to point down.

Almost as if it were being shoved down.

The air behind the pitching machine shimmered and a woman materialized behind it. Her dark hair flowed and twisted as if it were made of smoke, and her crimson eyes were alight with fire.

"Die…" the specter's voice echoed menacingly. The pitching machine was now specifically aimed at them.

"Takeshi-kun," was all Setsuna could muster before she hauled them to their feet. "Run!" With a shove, she got him a few feet head start. Yamamoto seemed to get the memo because the second he got going he was off.

The blonde quickly took off after him, but she wasn't nearly as fast nor did she have the leg span he did.

Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop!

Now that they were no longer in a specific cage the other pitching machines followed them as they ran by. Yamamoto completely out ran them, but Setsuna had to specifically dodge.

If they made it out of here alive she'd have to thank Ryohei for training with her. Because if she had responded even a millisecond too late to any of the balls they'd knock her out, and Yamamoto was too far ahead to even help her out.

After running down what seemed like an endless corridor of flying lethal baseballs, the two teens finally made it to safety in the street. They probably would have been safe a little ways back but neither of them risked it.

"I… Can't… Believe…" Setsuna huffed, unable to breathe properly. "We… Made it out…"

Yamamoto only chuckled, which soon transformed into full out laughter. Setsuna pursed her lips at that. "What's so funny?"

Yamamoto reined it in, but still shuddered every now and then as he suppressed another bout of laughter. "You have to admit that was kind of funny."

"How?" she demanded. "In what way is dying via baseballs funny?"

That earned her a widened grin, one with a hint of madness to it. "Okay, maybe not funny, but it was fun!"

"You're insane," she shook her head, but smiled herself – except more out of relief than anything else. Yamamoto always seemed to have that effect on her though. It was as if he specialized in making people smile even when they didn't want to.

Especially when they didn't want to, she decided.

"Speaking of fun things though," she trailed off, absently cracking her knuckles to calm her nerves. "What I wanted to talk to you about…"

The smile immediately slipped from his lips. Somehow he sensed it was about something serious.

"Maa maa, do you mind if we just relax for a moment?" he trailed off, finding a spot on the grass to plop down on. He gestured for her to join him, which she reluctantly complied.

The sun was well past set, and stars were just starting to blink into existence in the night sky. Just looking at it hit the blonde with a wave of nostalgia. How many nights had she stayed up staring at that exact sky waiting for Giotto to show up? How many nights had she actually spoken with him under it?

Heaving a sigh, she leaned back onto her palms. "What do the stars make you think of, Takeshi-kun?" she wondered aloud, just audible enough for him to hear her.

His voice rumbled deep in his chest as he mulled it over. "This is going to sound strange, but they remind me of Baseball. When they bring out the lights for a night game, and they're so blinding it feels like it's in the middle of the day."

Even just thinking about it made warmth bloom in his chest. He felt like a little kid again during his first night game. When his parents cheered him on in the bleachers, and even though he couldn't see their faces over the light he knew they were smiling.

"What about you?" he tore his eyes from the sky to ask her.

Setsuna tilted her head in thought. She couldn't just say 'oh, they remind me of the ghost of my ancestor.' Although, truthfully, why couldn't she? Now that she was on her way to telling Haru – despite the fact that she really didn't want to – her being a Medium was starting to become common knowledge apparently.

The blonde shook her head. Even if she wanted to she couldn't… she couldn't.

"They make me think that maybe this world isn't as lonely as it seems," she finally said, finding the words carefully. "That even if someone isn't right next to you somewhere they're seeing the same stars that you are."

"That's nice," he praised. "I like that."

For a while they sat there like that, staring up at the sky in mutual silence. Neither even remotely bothered by it. In fact they took comfort in it. Until eventually, Setsuna had to break it.

"So about what I wanted to talk to you about…"

"It's about my Okaa-san isn't it?" Yamamoto interrupted her. There was a hint of sadness to his voice, and something else. Something that sounded so miserable it made Setsuna shy away from him a little bit.

"How did you know?"

He shrugged, either not knowing or willing to give an answer. Those hazel eyes were definitely more observant than they let on.

Setsuna scrambled to come up with something to say, she hadn't expected him to know what this was about. Although it did make things somewhat easier on her in retrospect. "What happened to her exactly?" she asked delicately.

At that he let out a rather uncharacteristic sigh, and she could almost see the layers of his happy go lucky persona sloughing away.

"She passed away when I was young," his voice wavered slightly. "There was a… fire."

"Oh," Setsuna croaked. "I'm sorry. If you don't want to talk about it…"

"It's okay," he assured her, though the grin he offered was but a ghost of the usual one. "It's been awhile since it happened so I'm fine now." His words sounded fake, but she didn't call him on it. "The police ruled it an accident," he went on. "But I don't… I don't think…"

Furrowing his eyebrows, he glared down at his hands as if they were covered in blood. As if he were almost disgusted by the sight of them. "It was all my fault," he admitted miserably. "My Okaa-san died because of me."

"Takeshi-kun," she grabbed his face, and forced him to look at her; to see the present rather than whatever he was seeing in his head. "I'm sure it wasn't your fault."

The fog that had settled over his hazel orbs cleared, and it seemed as if he was back to normal. Well, maybe not normal, but at least himself again. '"I'm sorry," he apologized, suddenly embarrassed. "I didn't mean to –"

Unable to watch any more Setsuna let go of his face and wrapped her arms around him instead. Yamamoto was stunned for a moment, then he hugged her back.

"I'm sorry," he muttered again, but to whom Setsuna had no idea.

-Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ-

Author's Note: Anyone else get some Danganronpa flashbacks from this chapter? No? Just me? be honest, the pitching machine fiasco wasn't where I initially planned to go with this chapter, nor was the ending actually. But I really like the idea of a vulnerable Yamamoto. It makes the icy parts of my heart all warm and melty.

I acknowledge that it's mildly out of character, but again it's hard to say what is or isn't in character when you have a character interacting in a relationship that wasn't in the canon. Ah well, hope you guys still liked it though!

Question: Do you guys think Yamamoto actually killed his mother, or at least had a part in her death?

Thanks for reading!