You're pretty sure that you're being followed.

If you turn your head just so, you manage to catch sight of a man wearing a black suit, and hear a handful of soft footsteps as he trails along behind you.

This isn't an ideal situation. Alone, at the outskirts of town and in the gathering darkness . . . It's very likely that you'll be murdered, and your death will be splashed across the Namimori times tomorrow. Not a very appealing option. You quicken your pace. A chill that has nothing to do with the weather makes you shiver again. All you have is a bag full of school books, your cellphone, a smattering of self-defense knowledge and a can of pepper spray, currently on loan from Italy.

You pause for only a second, to unzip your bag and fumble for the canister. It's only a second, but it's enough. The footsteps behind you grow louder. Pivoting on your heel, you hold out the canister, preparing to use it for a weapon as needed.

"Woah, there!" The booming voice of the stocky, blond-haired man shatters the intense quiet and makes you jump.

"Back off." Your voice is tight. "I'm armed, and I won't hesitate."

He holds out his hands in a gesture of surrender, clearly trying to avoid the fate of a faceful of pepper spray. "I just want to talk to you."

"Um . . . Then couldn't you have done it in a more normal way instead of following me on my way home from school?"

He steps forward with a smile, as though he's been waiting for you. "Sorry. I'll keep that in mind next time."

"Alright." You say, your voice strengthening. Still, you don't loosen your grip around the canister. "So . . . If you aren't here to murder me, then . . . Why are you following me?"

"I'm Iemitsu Sawada." He extends his hand in greeting, speaking in a direct and easy way. "The External Advisor of the Vongola Family."

You wonder if the name is supposed to evoke fear or awe, or some kind of reaction; it certainly seems as though Iemitsu is waiting expectantly for one. His eyes are locked on yours in a way that feels like he's reading you down to your bones. But instead, you stare back at him, confusion written starkly across your face. If you remember your Italian right - and you know that you do, after spending half your life there - doesn't Vongola mean clam?

The External Advisor to the clam family. You tuck your pepper spray away, and close your fingers around your phone instead. "Um. Okay?"

"The Vongola Family is one of the oldest and one of the most powerful Mafia families in Italy. The tenth boss of the Vongola and the guardians of his family are currently being chosen."

It doesn't escape your notice, the way Iemitsu is staring at you meaningfully. Oh. The reason for his visit is suddenly making sense to you now, and you stare at him with a dawning realization. You can't quite bring yourself to believe it, but ridiculous family name aside, you don't think that Iemitsu is lying. And that's the scary part. The seriousness lacing his voice is proof enough. "So, you're asking me to join this . . . Vongola family. Not as the boss, but as a . . . Guardian?"

Iemitsu's nod has you wilting in relief. With transferring to a new school, juggling your studies and navigating the surprising intricacies of middle school, you already have enough on your plate without adding 'becoming a mafia boss' to the mix. "There are seven rings, and they each belong to the boss and his guardians. These rings are passed down as a proof of one belonging to the Vongola. In every generation, these seven core members will have to take on these seven rings. That's the rule."

"Who are the others?" You ask, mostly out of curiosity. You have no intention of joining this Vongola family, and you should probably tell Iemitsu so, before he takes your silence as consent. You're not special. You don't have any superhuman abilities. The very sight of blood twists your stomach up into knots. In the bloodstained, chaotic world of the Mafia, it's practically a given that you'll be the first to die. "Do I know them?"

Iemitsu smiles, as though he's enjoying a private joke, one that only he is privy to. "They're your classmates. You should be familiar with some of them."

You sincerely doubt it. You've just transferred to Namimori Middle. You don't know anyone there, except -

A needle of pain, deep in the pit of your heart, making it almost impossible to breathe. To cover it up, you hastily press Iemitsu for more details. "So. If I joined this family, I would be -"

"The Lightning Guardian."

"The Lightning Guardian." You repeat the words carefully, feeling the weight of them. You bite down on your lip and look down at your feet. "Right. Um. Thank you for this . . . Chance, but I think you have me confused with someone else. I'm not - I don't think I can - I'm probably the least qualified person for this position. You should probably choose someone else."

For a long moment, he's quiet. But when he next speaks, his tone is easy, as though the two of you are discussing dinner plans instead of something illegal. "The only other candidate is a child."

The words send a shiver down your spine. "A child? But that's - You can't - Are you serious?" You raise your eyes to meet Iemitsu's gaze, and in his eyes, you find your answer. The sight of it hollows your stomach. You have to struggle not to recoil from him. "You're serious. You're seriously going to get a child involved in the mafia."

He doesn't try to ply you with excuses about how this is for the greater good. You wouldn't have believed him anyway. There is no emotion at all in Iemitsu's eyes, which is just as well. Your whole body is numb.

You close your eyes, and take a moment to calm yourself. The uncertainty clouding your eyes is gone, replaced by something akin to determination. "Fine. I'll be the Lightning Guardian."

A small part of you argues that it's better this way. Better for your body to be shot at and broken beyond repair, rather than for that same fate to befall a child.

Uneasily, you wonder if Iemitsu's planned this; said the right words and pushed the right buttons to ensure that you'll join his family and that you'll be committed to his cause - whatever it is. You're sure that he's still hiding valuable information from you. Uncertainty and fear lodges deep in your stomach. It's not enough for you to change your mind, but it's there all the same.

Iemitsu motions for you to hold out your hand; a metal ring is quickly placed in your outstretched palm, as though he's afraid that you'll change your mind. The ring isn't particularly pretty; it isn't delicate, nor is it studded with gems and baubles. In fact, it's rather simple in its design. It's made of a dark, sturdy metal, with lighter silver detailing. You run your fingers over the ridges and pecks, looking at the fleur-de-lis engraved on the sides, and the shield placed in the center of the ring.

Wait. You hold the ring up between your thumb and forefinger, squinting at it in careful consideration. There's only half a shield, and half a . . . You think it's the symbol of a bolt of lightning anyway. "Um. Is this is broken?"

"These are the Half Vongola Rings." Iemitsu says, his quick brown eyes darting between the ring and you in amusement. "In ten days, a battle will commence for this ring, and for the title of the Lightning Guardian."

You shrink back from his words. Your mouth is dry, and when you speak, your voice rasps. "Battle? I can't fight. I don't know how to fight. I don't think -"

"Leave that to me. Your home tutor will be in contact with you shortly."

That isn't at all very comforting.