…This was still out before two months had passed! *hangs head in shame* On the upside though, I kind of like this chapter, even if it's mostly filler. Enjoy, and as always, please drop me a review and tell me what you think. ^^

LilyMoonstone: He's suffering in his own way. Just…more quietly. :)

YuukiChan95: And now it's been even longer. -.- Hope it's still worth the wait.

QueenofSpades99: Woah, woah, let's not get trigger happy. That's my job. I'm glad you liked it/them. Just a quick question: are you psychic? ^^

MoonlitMadness1: Thanks, and I'm happy you like the new characters. You'll be seeing more of them as the story goes.

Extreme Extreme Extreme: You are an incredibly good motivator, and I thank you for that. ^^ You'll have to wait and see for the part about the ring.

dolphinherovamp5: I hope you like this chapter as well. You have no idea how awesome it was for me to wake up and find four new reviews for this story, so thanks for taking the time to do that. I'm glad you like the new characters, and this chapter has more of them and Retsu. ^^

dotYui: Well it's about damn time! Just kidding. ^^ Monkey Nao…it could work. I'm glad you liked the chapter, and thanks. A lot of people seem to like Michael and Lucian, so I'm happy. :)

Our Sky

Chapter 49: Roses are Red

"You're late." The two words came down like a hammer on Michael's head, easily carrying over the bustle of the airport. He tried his best not to flinch back from the scathing glare that accompanied the statement, arms already up in a defensive position lest the speaker decide to attack. The aggressor tossed her long brown hair over a shoulder with one tanned hand, hazel eyes narrowed and accusing as she continued to speak. "Your flight was supposed to land six minutes and eighteen seconds ago."

"Okay, in my defense, I really don't have any control over how fast-"

"No," she cut him off sharply, glare strengthening. "You have no defense. Ten minutes could cost you your life in battle, and those of your comrades. And in all that free time you had, did you even once think to check the plane for assassins or bombs?"

"You have got to be kidding me," Michael snorted, arms crossing defiantly over his chest.

"Did you?"

"No, you got me!" He threw up his hands in mock defeat. "But guess what: we're both here safe and sound, so you can quit your mothering, loosen up for once, and live a little. Or is that beyond your capabilities?"

"How dare you-"

"My goodness, do you ever stop nagging?"

"Y-you… Lazy jackass!"

"Mother hen!"

"Incompetent pig!

"Overbearing-"

"Enough!" Lucian finally snapped, just barely quelling the urge to throw his carry-on item at his two companions. He had just spent well over twelve hours on a crowded passenger plane, and his temper was understandably a bit short. "Anya," he continued menacingly, expression stormy. "Please refrain from being quite so abrasive this early in the morning."

"Lucian… It's ten thirty-four a.m." Anya pointed out bluntly.

"Well it's three thirty-four in Italy," he shot back acerbically with a warning glare to dissuade any attempts on her part to argue. That said, the blond boy turned his icy stare on his dark-haired best friend, who had wisely taken refuge behind Anya's slim form in hopes of escaping at least part of the sleep-deprived Italian's anger. "Michael…" Lucian's voice was deceptively soft, easily belaying the core of steel under the word.

"Y-yes?"

"Stop instigating these little episodes." The order was simple and to the point, but the harsh glint in his eyes did away with any illusions Michael may have had that the other male's rare joking side was making an appearance. "Or I will for you."

"Understood." The statement was accompanied by a mock military salute, but the slight nod of his head that followed showed that – for the next few moments, at least – he would remain civil.

"Good." Lucian moved so that he was once again facing Anya before continuing. "Is Benihime ready with the car, or are we stuck here until she arrives?"

"She's just outside," the brunette replied, gesturing towards the glass doors across the wide hall which led to the outside world. She grasped the handle of the nearest piece of luggage and began to walk in that general direction, towing it along after her in an obvious sign that they should follow. Lucian and Michael grabbed the remaining bags before taking the path she had cleared for them through the crowd, careful to avoid rolling the wheels over any unsuspecting persons' foot.

Along the way, Michael was jolted from behind by a passing man, who muttered a quick apology and moved to hurry away. Before he could get too far, however, Lucian's hand shot out and caught his arm in an iron grip, features hard.

"What the-" the older male started irritably, gaze darting about in search of an escape. "I already said I was sorry for bumping into him, punk. The violence is not necessary."

"I could care less that you hit Michael," the blond shrugged the comment off indifferently. "But we need the money in that wallet for food, so I would be very grateful if you would kindly open your hand and return it."

How did he know? The thought raced through the thief's mind, but he thankfully managed to keep his outward composure in place. He could do this; if worst came to worst, he could call for help, say that they were robbing him. It had worked before and it would work now. With that in mind, he turned to face the insolent boy with the vice grip on his arm, fully confident and ready for whatever lay ahead.

"I don't have any idea what you're talking about," he snapped, faking indignant fury. "Release me at once or I will call security on you!"

Lucian's blue eyes narrowed dangerously, and he took a single step forward. This action alone was enough to send a spike of fear through the man's spine. He opened his mouth to call for help, but was startled into silence when an olive-skinned hand clamped down on his left shoulder, holding him firmly in place. Cold beads of sweat began to form on the back of the thief's neck as he turned to face the owner of the restraining limb, forcing a sneer onto his face. Any composure that he may have had, however, evaporated the second he looked into the frigid green eyes that hovered barely a foot away.

Satoshi Miwa had never believed that a person's life could flash before their eyes in the face of death. It seemed like a cheap trick that movies and books occasionally used to draw out a moment and make it more emotional, or give important background information without having to explicitly state it. As that hard emerald gaze bored into him though, leaving him feeling vulnerable and so very defenseless, he was forced to reconsider this idea. It seemed at if every choice he had made prior to now that had led to this moment resurfaced in his mind, mentally beating him down with all of his failures and poor decisions.

An incredible cold stole over his body, paralyzing him to the spot. His fingers trembled under the sheer force of the other's intimidating aura, and without him even realizing it, the wallet slipped through his shaking fingers to land softly on the tiled floor below.

Michael blinked then, releasing the man from his frightened trance. Satoshi stumbled once and fell to the ground in a sitting position, unable to speak through the terror that still lingered in him at the sheer memory. He flinched back from the boy's hand when he reached down to snatch the wallet from the floor, pocketing it with a flippant smile.

"Sorry 'bout that," the green-eyed Italian said, shooting the thief a sympathetic look. "I'm still tired from the flight, and my control's not as good as it usually is. You should be fine in a few minutes, though I wouldn't recommend any horror movies in the near future." He appeared as if he wanted to say something else, but was cut off by an annoyed cry from the third member of their strange group, a pretty brunette with fiery hazel eyes.

"Hurry up," she called irritably, ignoring the reproachful gazes sent her way by several members of the crowd. "I know you don't want to keep Hime waiting!"

"Ah!" Michael cringed at the very thought, quickly reaching for his bags and moving to follow Anya.

"Wait," Satoshi exclaimed, sitting up straighter. Both teenagers turned to face him curiously, though the blond's expression still retained a measure of his characteristic indifference. "W-who are you guys?"

The dark-haired one simply blinked, surprised by the question. Lucian ran an appraising glance over the man on the floor before them, thinking over how best to answer. Another impatient cry from Anya seemed to hurry along his decision, as the next moment he was turning away, throwing his answer over one shoulder as he walked on.

"Tourists."

~X~

"So let me get this straight," Retsu began tiredly, one hand moving up to rub at his forehead in a mixture of disbelief and irritation. Upon awakening that morning, he had been sorely disappointed to find that no; the strange events of last night had not simply been an odd dream that would disappear after some sleep. Jun and Nao were still very much there, one at the foot of his bed while the other lay underneath the open window. He had been quick to rouse them, eager to get the whole story out as early as possible, but now, after listening to Nao's recount of the night's affairs, he was seriously beginning to wish that he had just left well enough alone and simply let them sleep on.

"You," he continued after a short pause, pointing at Nao, "seem to be the cause of all this."

"Wait a seco-" The older opened his mouth to argue, but was cut off by a sharp glare.

"I waited all night," Retsu pointed out flatly, too weary at that point to be bothered with things like courtesy and tact. "We're getting this straight now."

Nao still looked as if he wished to say something, but wisely chose to keep his mouth shut for the moment. Satisfied with the other's response, the white-haired boy spoke up again.

"Because of family circumstances, which I admit I don't know anything about so I'll try not to comment on just how messed up this entire situation is-" a pointed look at Nao earned the boy a baleful look, but nothing else, "You stole your family's prized ring and actually managed to get back to Japan with it."

Retsu's face took on a look of grudging admiration as he said those words, but it was quick to return to its previous sour countenance after one look at the other's smug expression.

"Apparently, this ring has a twin, and this was being displayed at the Namimori Museum – not that any of us would know that because nobody goes to museums anymore. But anyway, this twin is stolen, and your finger prints are found all over the broken case. The police arrest you of course, and despite all of the evidence, you still insist that you didn't do it."

"I didn't steal the ring."

"My point exactly." Retsu nodded once, then ploughed on. "You devise this crazy, harebrained scheme, but you need someone to help, so you call Jun. He comes, you explain, and for some odd reason he actually accepts." He shot his friend a quizzical look, but continued to speak. "Using some method that I don't think I really want to know, you manage to actually escape from the police station, and then you two meet up at the Namimori Shrine."

A brief image of an all-knowing smirk and stormy grey eyes disappearing into a swirling mass of leaves flitted through his mind at the mention of the shrine, but Retsu quickly banished it from his thoughts. He needed his mind clear to even hope to understand this story.

"You head to your house to grab the ring you did steal, and then, for some reason that I still don't think I get, you decide to rest up at my place."

A long pause followed as he tried to collect his thoughts. Neither of the other boys moved to comment or put in a word of defense, and the only sound in the room was that of Reborn's quiet snores. Finally, after was felt like an eternity, Jun spoke up.

"Th-that sounds about right," he admitted sheepishly, anxiety twisting a knot in his stomach. Retsu seemed uncharacteristically cold today; his speech was clipped, his eyes hard, and the expression he wore could only be described as stony. Jun couldn't help but think back to all that he had recently pieced together about their little 'family.' At first, he had thought of it as a joke – a product of Kazuki and a baby's vivid imaginations, nothing more. But the various battles of the past few weeks had forced him to give the matter some serious thought.

Retsu as a mafia boss was a disturbing image to say the least. Normally, it was also one that was near impossible to imagine. And yet, at the moment…

The boy was shaken out of his thoughts by a snort from the high school student at his side. He jumped slightly at the sound, sending a questioning look over his shoulder as he did. As usual, the expression on Nao's face was unreadable, though Jun could have sworn he saw a small twinkle of amusement in the other's golden eyes.

It seemed as though this had not gone unnoticed by Retsu either, as he raised an eyebrow in response. "What?"

"You're very good at pretending to be serious," the Indian boy smirked. "But unfortunately, I'm not so easily intimidated. You can drop the act; it's not working."

For a long moment, the two just stared at each other. The tension seemed to increase with each passing second, until Jun was sure that he would be able to reach out and touch it if he was so inclined. Finally, Retsu looked away. Then he sighed, and all the fight seemed to leave his body. The white-haired teenager fell back to lean on the wall just behind him, sighing in defeat. When he next raised his head to lock eyes with the room's other occupants, all the hardness had dissipated, leaving only mild irritation and disappointment in its wake.

"Damn," he sighed again, head bumping against the wall with a soft thump. "And I thought I was finally starting to get good at that too."

"Don't take it too hard," Nao winked. "It was very believable. Just ask Takahiro-kun."

"Wait, what?" Jun started, gaze darting back and forth between the two in confusion. "He was seriously just acting the whole time?"

"Yeah," Retsu nodded. "Reborn's been teaching intimidation tactics lately, so I figured I may as well try them out. Clearly, I still have a lot of practice to do." He shot a dry look at Nao, who beamed in response.

"Why intimidation tactics?" the blue-eyed boy persisted, still trying to piece together the whole situation. "Is this something to do with that mafia thing?"

"Unfortunately." His white-haired friend wrinkled his nose in distaste, glaring at the hammock where Reborn was currently sleeping. "Though I guess I can kind of understand this particular lesson, I'm still trying to figure out what relevance some of the other stuff has." Jun thought he heard the other mutter something about 'stupid archaic Latin,' but he didn't comment.

"Must be interesting tutoring sessions," he teased, trying to ignore the puzzled expression on Nao's face.

"Don't say that!" Retsu hissed warningly. "He'll hear you!"

"He's asleep."

"That doesn't matter! Reborn will wake up and probably start on a lesson, and he'll be so encouraged by your comment that he'll try to make it even more messed up than it already is."

"No offense, but I'm kind of not following your logic," Jun stated, raising an eyebrow at the other's frantic behavior.

"Well I'm not following either of you right now," Nao chimed in, a look that was somewhere between amusement and irritation on his face. "What are we talking about?"

It was Retsu's turn to exchange looks with Jun, both feeling rather torn about what to say. On the one hand, the Indian boy had enough problems already without having to deal with the mafia, and he probably wouldn't believe them regardless. However, he was also wanted for theft and escaping detainment, so it was possible that some connections would have to be called on. How he would even go about doing that, Retsu had no idea, but the option remained.

"Um, you see Nao-senpai, we-" The young boss was cut off by the sudden opening of his door, and the coming of a new voice.

"Retsu-san, there's a letter here for ya…" Izumi stopped abruptly at the sight of Jun and Nao, mouth freezing in place as the words died on his lips. For a long moment, no one moved. Then, as if forcibly jolted out of his shock, the orange-haired teenager snapped his jaw closed, expression turning thoughtful. "When did ya guys get here?"

"Th-they slept over." The former-singer sent the youngest Akimura a quizzical glance. He seemed to realize that there was more to this story than the other was telling him, but Izumi had never been one to pry. Everyone was entitled to their secrets, and as long as Retsu was not putting himself in harm's way, who was he to interfere with the older boy's business?

With that in mind, he pasted a cheerful smile on his face, hoping that it looked believable enough. Something about the look that the unfamiliar dark-skinned boy beside the bed was giving him told Izumi that his ruse had been seen through, but he persisted anyway.

"Okay," the boy chirped with a smile, holding up the small envelope in his hand. "Like I said, this letter came for ya this mornin', and yer mom sent me up to give it to ya."

"A letter?" Retsu seemed genuinely puzzled by the very thought. "I haven't gotten one of those in forever." He took the offered paper with more than a little caution, slowly peeling the top off and pulling out a plain white card. The other three boys crowded around, eyes widening as they read the contents.

Roses are red, violets are blue

You don't know me, but I know you

Clams hold secrets you'd never understand

But I'll still give you a fighting chance

Meet me at the place where the sun disappears

And this world and the next reflect in the mirrors

"What the hell is this?" Jun asked once he finished reading it over, thoroughly confused. "Who sent it, and why?"

"That's why it's so weird," Izumi explained, picking up the envelope and flipping it over. "There's no return address, so it couldn't have been mailed. Someone must've left it in Retsu-san's mailbox."

"It's probably just a prank from one of the neighbors," Retsu said flippantly, tossing the card down on the bed. "It's complete nonsense, of course. What do clams have to do with keeping secrets, or two different worlds? Someone's obviously just screwing with us."

"Don't be so dismissive," Reborn admonished, leaping onto his student's shoulder. The boy jumped, nearly knocking the small hitman off of his perch.

"How many times do I have to say don't do that?" he exclaimed, shock giving way to annoyance. "Get off!"

"I don't take orders from you," the baby said with a sharp slap on the cheek. "How about you get on with solving this riddle instead of starting pointless arguments?"

"You can't be serious."

"Why not?"

"I already told you that this makes no sense," Retsu reiterated, picking the letter back up and waving it a few times. "Besides, I'm terrible at riddles. Even if I wanted to start solving this, I couldn't."

"I'm pretty bad too," Jun admitted, to which Izumi nodded in agreement. They turned their eyes on Nao, who had been lost in thought up until that point.

"What?" the high school student asked indignantly. "Don't look at me like that; just because I'm smart doesn't mean I'm any good at thinking these things out. It makes about as much sense to me as it does to you."

"Well this is just great!" Retsu threw up his hands in defeat. "We all suck at thinking outside the box, so let's forget this ever happened and get back to the crisis at hand."

"Not so fast," Reborn interrupted, pulling on the teenager's ear. "This is not something which you can disregard so easily."

"And why not?" his student pressed, surprised by the serious tone the other's voice had adopted.

"I know this handwriting, and this style," the baby explained gravely, pointing at the riddle. "It is the work of the other heir to the Vongola throne, so I would suggest that you not take it so lightly. Your life could depend on this little riddle; Lucian does not show mercy when it comes to his little games."

"Lucian?" Retsu all but squeaked. "The other candidate…that's his name?"

"Yes."

"Why is he doing this?"

"Who knows?" Reborn's gaze hardened. "But regardless of his reasons, you need to solve the riddle."

"How?" the boy exclaimed, momentarily ignoring the varying levels of confusion on his companion's faces in favor of focusing on his tutor. "We already established that none of us are any good at this type of thing."

"Then I would suggest you enlist the help of someone who is," the hitman stated bluntly. "Someone who is well-versed in riddles, word games, and deceptions."

Retsu opened his mouth to protest further, but it snapped closed seconds later as his eyes widened in comprehension. When he next spoke, it was in a whisper, barely audible to anyone except for the infant on his shoulder. "You don't mean…"

"Retsu," Reborn stated, voice firm. "I think it's time you paid another visit to Namimori Shrine."