[b]"What now, wise guy?"[/b] [b]"He got us in this shit! He should think of something!"[/b] [b]"Guys! Cut it out!"[/b] A single speck of light in the darkness was the final hope that beated in the hearts of the group. The water had risen to their knees as they waddled through the waste, unable to discern whether it was only the sewage or blood. The cavern stretched far beyond their vision of the petite light that they could only provide, a straight path through the shadows as death, their predator, stalked. [b]"Hey, give me that damn light,"[/b] the American male cursed, his voice echoing far down the tunnel. The holder of the light, a fair-skinned Japanese teenager who stood at the head of the group, continued to press onward as if he had not heard the American. [b]"I said give me the fuckin' light, Hajime!"[/b] Sea-green eyes, dimly illuminated by the light, hung below rogue strands of messy brown hair as the Japanese teenager turned, his jawline clenched in reflection to his free hand, now a fist. [b]"Stop talking so loud, Roland! They might hear us."[/b] [b]"Yeah,"[/b] a deep, African-accented female voice from Hajime's flank joined him. [b]"Quit complaining. We need to stay quiet."[/b] The American was not pleased about the responses that he received. [b]"We need to hurry and get back to the destination before those damn Russians do, but we're going slower than Hwuang trying to speak English!"[/b] [b]"Screw off,"[/b] a second Asian accent, a high-pitched voice belonging to a young boy, carefully pronounced his selection of words. [b]"You're all being immature,"[/b] another female voice with an accent, this time Irish, interjected. [b]"Iemitsu said that Hajime is our leader. He knows what's best."[/b] Directly at the Japanese teenager's side, a silver-haired boy followed, his left arm drooped back as if he were holding on to something. A faint cyan flared inside of the boy's pupils as he turned his head to look at the group. [b]"She's right,"[/b] he agreed with the Irish girl. [b]"We need to stick together, and listen to Hajime."[/b] Roland seemed unimpressed by the silver-haired boy's parroting of the Irish girl. [b]"Pipe it, lovebirds. You won't be holding those hands together for long if we don't get back in time."[/b] [b]"I don't know about you people, but I'm starving,"[/b] a second American voice, significantly deeper than Roland's, yawned. [b]"Rats, I can't believe that I lost my lunch..."[/b] the man sighed heavily in annoyance. Roland was even more irritated to hear the tragic loss. [b]"Those Russian mafioso are gonna invade, and all you can think about is losing your lunch? Skylar, do you realize that you are the reason why we're down here, now?"[/b] [b]"Look, guys,"[/b] Hajime stopped in his tracks, wheeling around to address them. [b]"The plan might've been compromised-"[/b] Roland interrupted. [b]"Oh, you think?"[/b] A pained "Ow!" following the sound of a fist crashing into one's face sounded. [b]"Listen to him!"[/b] the African accent hissed. [b]"Thanks, Riki. Anyway,"[/b] Hajime resumed in his hushed voice. [b]"Like Janna and Howlite were getting at, we need to stick together. We're running out of time, right now, and we have valuable information that could save the entire Vongola- no, the entire world, even."[/b] [b]"But that doesn't matter to me as much as all of you being here, right now. Even though this is only our first mission together, we already have the key on how we can end the war in such a short time. Thanks for coming this far with me."[/b] --- Hajime blinked hard as he felt his soul return to his flesh, the reality in his surroundings returning. He was accustomed to thinking of the past, as much as he tried to not do so; it was like he continually wished to flirt with death, attempting to take its hand for a dance that would last forever. By the time that he had come to, most of the children had already left the house, carrying out Sonya's order of running ten laps around Trespiano. [b]"Inspiration, eh..."[/b] Hajime mumbled to himself as he thought of how Naoto Alato had rallied up his fellow candidates. More often than not, those who possessed Sky Flames were to-be bosses of mafia families, and as such, they had their ways of motivating and convincing their subordinates... whether it were inspiration or fear. Two polar opposites of one person, two different sides of one coin. His brow arched as the boy addressed him directly, folding his arms together as he shook his head. [b]"It's not up to me; I'm not your tutor, she is,"[/b] he nodded towards Sonya. Hajime's peripheral vision caught his son at the corner of his eye. Daisuke's plate remained relatively untouched as the boy shriveled back into his chair like a turtle retreating into its shell. [b]"I don't..."[/b] his eyes continued to stare at the crimson tablecloth, in shock as if he was staring at real blood. Hajime sighed, rising from his chair as he swung his trenchcoat over his shoulder. Taking his plate to the sink, he began to walk towards the entrance until he stopped in the middle of the living room, turning back. [b]"I'm counting on you, Sonya,"[/b] he tipped his head to her before shifting his view back to his frightened son. He bit his tongue as it held the urge for him to say something. [i]No, it has to be this way.[/i] [b]"Goodbye,"[/b] he finally said, turning around and leaving.