Mio Famiglia, Mio Scudo

Episode XVI

The group had finally returned to Namimori, leading to some slightly awkward moments with those who hadn't gone with them. Mainly Jean, who hadn't realised that Haruka had hired Mammon as their body double for nearly every meeting they were supposed to have with their father, transferring only the vital information about the meetings and leading the Tenoh Corp to the heir themselves. Mists really were something else. Though now that they were back, they could clearly see that something was bothering Naoki. And this wasn't just their sudden invitation to the Vongola HQ.

Naoki stared forward, not allowing any emotion to climb onto his face and expose how he truly felt about the situation. He was now face to face with none other than Vongola Nono, the most powerful God Father of Cosa Nostra. Sure, he was surrounded by his friends, but he also was surrounded by much more experienced people who could wipe him and his little Famiglia effortlessly as if they were brushing hair away from their faces.

He had no idea as to why they'd been summoned there, after all they weren't anything too out of ordinary. Just a group of people, who soke for what they'd never had been given upon their birth. Family, happiness, sense of belonging, being trusted, the ability to move on. They just wanted to be who they were.

"You've already managed to become the talk of the Cosa Nostra, young Don", the elderly Don congratulated the teen as he slid several newspapers, most likely from the past year, through the table to him. Naoki stared at the headlines emotionlesly, but in the inside he was screaming in confusion.

Since when had criminals had their own newsletter provided for every Famiglia? And more importantly who did he need to get a hold of to start his own subscription?

"A mysterious group wipes out the Godfather of Syracuse! Vigilante group or Mafia?"
"Costello Famiglia's lies exposed!"
"Vindice offers the position of Godfather to Paravento!"
"10 things you should know about the new mafia family!"
"Paravento denies ten more applicants! Here's why!"
"These mafiosi shone at the Beaulieu Inheritance Ceremony! Top ten looks from the Green Carpet! Who is the mysterious Vongola Primo lookalike?"

Naoki cringed at the headlines, just were they made to be so dramatic? It wasn't like they had done anything weird had they? Also who the hell was Vongola Primo and why was he being compared to them?
Slowly, the teen lift his eyes from the papers with unimpressed look on his face, staring directly into the brown eyes of the Vongola. "I see that it has been rather quiet in the criminal world", "What makes you say that?", "These overly dramatic headlines and how they appear to be revolving around only one thing."

Naoki made another glance at the newspaper, his eyes looking for the name of the writer.
"Code Terra huh.... That's interesting.. Who else are working for this I wonder...", he mused to himself, memorising the name of the newspaper.

"Notizie Criminali is run by the Bellini Famiglia, a grey mafia family, the sections you're currently looking at are called Fiamma", Naoki snorted at the name, could it be any more obvious what the paper contained, "Our professionals aren't entirely sure of how they manage to get all of their information".

"Well, a good reporter is always where things are happening, and if you're a strong mist that shouldn't be a hard trick to pull", Naoki retorted as one of Timoteo's servants brought them food. While his much older companions were nonchalant over the woman, the younger generation was staring at this uncomfortably aware of this being another trick to showcase power and establish superiority.

Older people tended to be like that, they had this need to feel superior compared to their youngers when in reality the younger people were the ones who actually knew what they were usually talking about. They had higher educations.
"So... Why exactly did you wish to meet with us? Surely a man of your calibre has better things to do than look after his youngers", Primo asked coolly, yet hurrying the meeting to be over with. There was something in this man that he didn't like. It wasn't that the man was bad, he just was... inflexible. Too set in his ways.