Sawada Natsuki loves her little brother. Tsuna is shy and clumsy and prefers reading comics to doing anything productive, but she loves him. She just can't help him. She's tried, so very hard, to make things easier for him, but she can't. One of the drawbacks of being a girl is that she can't make the bullies back off in the same way that an older brother could, not without Tsuna attracting more teasing for hiding behind his sister. She tries to help him with his schoolwork, get him to understand the concepts that come so easy for her. But he resents her for finding so simple what is so very hard for him. It makes him angry and depressed and withdrawn, and eventually she stops trying.

She goes to Midori Middle School, instead of Namimori Middle. It's tougher, more advanced, and she loves it. She loves the challenge and the way the teachers push her, and the friends she makes who understand instead of mocking her for her drive. But it doesn't make things better at home. Her mother praises her while lamenting the failings of 'Dame-Tsuna', and nothing Natsuki does can stop her, or anyone, from using the awful nickname that Tsuna seems to have accepted as part of his identity. The gap between them grows wider, and Natsuki has no idea how to bridge it.

When the baby comes and announces that he's a home tutor, Natsuki is suspicious. The child clearly has adult intelligence, so she won't complain about that. The entire town is policed by a boy her age and a gang of delinquents, a child-like tutor is not the strangest thing she's seen. There are explosions every morning, and she hears rumours of Tsuna doing crazy things, but he seems happier. He's made friends with an Italian transfer student and the baseball star from his school, as well as the girl he has a crush on and her older brother. There's a brightness in his eyes, and Natsuki is willing to forgive a lot of strangeness for that.

But she knows they're keeping secrets from her. Just like she knows her father has nothing to do with oil drilling or construction or traffic control, not with the money he sends and way his story changes every time she asks, not that she can ask often. She doesn't understand why the Italian boy carries firecrackers with him, why he won't call Tsuna by name, why the tutor hits and kicks and otherwise abuses Tsuna without consequence. She tries to intervene, but only once. She's learned too well that interfering only makes things worse for her brother, and despite his new friends he doesn't stop coming home bruised and battered.

And then things get even crazier. After a few months the Italian boy's older sister, Bianchi, has moved into her room and two Italian children, Lambo and Fuuta, are sharing the spare room with a Chinese girl, I-Pin. With Tsuna's friends over more often than not, the lack of privacy is driving Natsuki crazy. Her grades start slipping as she gets less and less sleep, her homework gets destroyed if she leaves it unattended for a second, and there is no quiet place where she can study.

She starts spending most of her time at the library, moving to a coffee shop when it closes, and coming home only to sleep. She spends most of her money eating out, but since before she was spending all of her money on new clothes after they got ruined in the melee that meals had become, she doesn't see it as a sacrifice. Her mother barely notices, so caught up in Tsuna's new attitude. Tsuna doesn't notice either, and nor do any of their houseguests. It isn't good, not even close, but it's workable. It's liveable.

She reaches her breaking point when she comes home one day to find Bianchi painting her room a deep pink. Her scream of outrage brings Tsuna, his tutor and her mother running. None of them understand why she's upset. They all act like she's overreacting, that having her space completely redesigned by a virtual stranger should be okay with her. Her mother acts disappointed, and Bianchi is condescending. Tsuna just looks baffled.

That evening she packs her bags. She doesn't have much – most of her books have been scribbled on by the children, her wardrobe is down to three shirts, two pairs of jeans and a skirt, her jewellery was broken by the children playing dress-up – so it doesn't take long. Her friend Manami is more than willing to let her crash on the spare futon for a few nights while she figures things out.

Her mother coos about her being 'so independent' as she sings the paperwork for her new apartment. She would feel guilty about the added expense for her mother, but staying at home just isn't feasible any more. Two days into living in her new space and she knows she made the right choice. She hadn't realised how much stress she was under until it all went away. Her teachers comment on how much better her work is, how much fresher and more awake she looks. She reconnects with her friends, apologises for her stress and the distance she had been unconsciously creating. Things are going well, and although she misses Tsuna and Her mother, it's only in a distant, easily-ignorable way. They haven't been close for a long time now.

Her mother calls in October and tells her that her father has come home to visit. She replies non-committally and makes a mental note to stay away from the house. She doesn't think she could stand to see the man without shouting at him. Tsuna needed a father, her mother needed her husband, and if he wasn't prepared to be there for them then he shouldn't have had a family at all. She knows that Her mother's happy singing and extravagant cooking will only make her angrier and more upset if she comes home.

The plan to avoid her father lasts until the end of the school day, when she gets back to her apartment to find that it's been stripped. Bedding, clothes, her posters and decorations, everything. There's nothing left but a note in handwriting she recognises from the infrequent postcards, instructing her to come home and illustrated with a cheerful smiley face. Natsuki goes to the shop she buys all her clothes from, picks up a couple of cheap shirts, some underwear and a pair of jeans, and then goes to Manami's. The girl is a great friend, and aware of a little of the drama at home. She's more than willing to let Natsuki stay over, and her parents are wonderfully accepting. They're happy to host her for as long as her father is in town.

But the next day, one of the many Italians who've been in and out of the house is waiting for her at the school gates, surrounded by men in black suits and ignoring the excited whispers from smitten schoolgirls. Before Natsuki can turn around to go hide in the library until they go away, one of the black-suited men takes her firmly by the shoulder and steers her towards the tattooed blond.

He smiles at her, bright and cheerful, ordering her home and calling her Natsu-chan like they're friends. There's no way for her to get away without causing a scene, and before she can decide whether or not it's worth risking, she's bundled into a black car and the opportunity has passed.

Seeing her father is every bit as excruciating as she had expected. He's drunk, laying around in his boxers being waited on by her mother. He clings to her like a monkey as she tries to excuse herself to go to Manami, wailing about how hurt he is, how cold his cute little girl is, as though she's still the tiny girl with hair as big as she was and a wardrobe full of pink frilly dresses. He doesn't seem to care that her blonde hair is pulled back into tight braids now, and she wears boots instead of ballet slippers. He chatters about her cooking for him like her mother, and asks if she's met any cute boys. He's thrilled that she hasn't, indulgent when she says she doesn't want to, and laughs when she tells him that she wants to be an engineer. It's awful and it takes all she has not to scream at him, not to cry and shout and fight her way out of this toxic embrace, this plastic house full of plastic smiles.

She isn't even allowed to leave the house for school. Her mother twitters about how nice it is to spend time together as a tall Italian shadows her every step, herding her away if she gets too close to the doors. Tsuna is out, preparing for something, but no one is telling her anything and she's regretting not pushing for an answer back when this first began.

And then everyone's talking about rings, the white-haired boxer Tsuna hangs around with is in the hospital again, Tsuna hugs her completely out of the blue, and everything is frantic. Lambo, the curly-haired Italian menace, is in the hospital, and Natsuki is left at home with only her guard as her mother spends all of her time there with him. Everyone is being wound tighter and tighter. Natsuki can feel it even though she doesn't know the cause.

And then her father is back at home again, the Italian boy who trails behind him calling him master still acting as his shadow. He says he's going to leave, and Natsuki is pleased. She wants to get her life back, her schoolwork, her apartment. Whatever insanity surrounds her family, she wants out, even if she has to cut all ties to make it happen. She even manages to smile as she wishes him farewell.

She is surprised to wake up in an aeroplane, strapped to a seat, still wearing her nightclothes. Her father grins at her as though he hasn't done something unforgivable, as though she isn't panicking in her seat, trying and failing to find a way to undo the straps that hold her down. He talks about his boss's son, about her joining the family and supporting Tsuna, still with that awful grin. She only catches half the words, and they don't make sense. Nothing makes sense anymore.

Her father leaves her once they land in Italy, handing her off to more interchangeable men in black suits. They don't speak Japanese, and she doesn't speak Italian, so they have no way to communicate. They pull her around like she's a doll, until she's sat with a cup of tea in front of her, in a room with six stone-faced men.

They talk in heavily accented Japanese about how their boss is injured, and the Varia can't be allowed to leave the family. She has no idea what they mean, so she just nods. The youngest one explains that the boss's son is angry at his father. She can understand the feeling, and feels like she's on slightly firmer ground. They tell her they want her to … something… with the boss's son. She doesn't understand, and her head is still fuzzy, so she just keeps nodding. They smile at her, and a woman in a plain black dress leads her out of the room and into a bedroom. She's asleep as soon as her head touches the pillow.

The next day she feels slightly more together after a hot shower and a chance to brush her teeth. A whole host of women come into the bedroom, wielding swathes of white fabric. A girl about her age gives her a glass of juice and some toast, and she's hungry enough to wolf it down without a thought to manners.

Her head feels just as floaty as the day before as the women dress her like a mannequin, wrapping her in a corset and lacing her up tight, pulling a huge, frothy white dress from protective plastic and manoeuvring her into it. She knows she should object to them stripping her naked, she knows that she doesn't like people touching her hair, she knows that them painting her face like she's about to go on stage is strange. But she can't work up the energy to complain, or remember why she wants to at all.

Once her hair has been wrestled into elaborate braids entwined with ribbons and flowers, and her feet have been slipped into delicate white flats, she's steered out of the mansion – how had she not seen how fancy the house was yesterday? – and into another black car. She's not sure how long the drive is, she thinks she falls asleep. But soon she's stood outside a church, and guided inside to a small room where her father is waiting.

His presence is almost enough to break the fog. But then he takes her by the arm and he's leading her through a set of doors, and it takes all of her concentration not to trip over the hem of her dress and keep hold of the bouquet that's been shoved into her arms. She's forced to cling to her father as he tows her down the centre of the rows of chairs, all filled with fancily dressed people. Natsuki is scared now, she wants to go home. And then her father is passing her to a scowling man in a suit, with guns on his hips. He takes her hand, and wraps an arm around her waist when she slumps against him. She's so tired, she just wants to sleep. If she can just go to sleep, this will all have been a nightmare when she wakes up again.

They're talking in Italian and she doesn't understand, so she stare at the man holding her up. His eyebrows are funny, split in half at the ends. His skin is patchy, like parts of it have been tanned. And he looks so angry. There's a blond man standing next to him, with hair even longer than hers. She's never seen hair that long, and it distracts her. The man holding her forces a ring onto her finger, and then places another in her hand. It glitters, and she moves it so it sparkles in the light. He growls and grips her hand too tightly, forcing the ring onto his own finger. Then he's kissing her, hot and dry and she pulls back. She doesn't want that. She tries to move away but he won't let her go and she wants out. She wants to leave.

The scowling man drags her back towards that doors and into the waiting black car, shoving her down onto a seat. They drive away, and she closes her eyes and lets the blackness take her.