His name was Rokudo Mukuro. Or at least, that's the name that he's called now. He had lived through many lifetimes and been rewarded (or perhaps he could call it a curse?) for his hardships. Six paths which, once activated, would give him great power. This was what he needed, he knew, in order to protect them.

Ken and Chikusa, two boys who grew up as he did, with the terrible experaments of the Estreneo Family clinging to them years after, were his precious people. He could not allow harm to befall them, would not allow it. They would not be harmed, not when he could prevent it.

Even if he still treated them like his dolls, they were his favorites. But he couldn't let them know that. If they did...

They would become careless, and he would lose them even quicker than he would already. Because he knew that he wouldn't be able to protect them on his own, and that soon, he would be taken away, to the bottom level of the Vendicare prison. That's why he must keep them there, outside, always suffering or just making due with the little that they had.

Survive without me. I dare you. Show me that you are able.

They could manage, he knew that. But... Ken was too hasty, never thinking, just charging into a battle like the beasts that had been contained within him. Chikusa could hold back, he was cautious, yet he did not have the strength that Ken had been given. They would be able to survive, but.. They would not be able to live on their own.

Ken enjoyed playing around, taunting and teasing when he wasn't snarling and biting. He enjoyed to play videogames and have use of the few luxuries that could be provided. He was easily riled and not easily calmed, holding grudges against others for things that might just have been trivial matters, yet it gave him a reason to lash out at them.

Chikusa seemed to enjoy simple activities, such as the yo-yos that he used as his weapons. He was calm and cool, seeming relaxed where Ken was rigid and uneasy. He'd make a remark back when Ken would tease him, and when Ken tried to lure him into a fight, on the days that were worse than others, Chikusa would ignore the taunts or give a biting remark that caused Ken to go off and sulk.

Mukuro saw this through the eyes of Chrome, who remained quiet and seemed to enjoy just being there. Having some place that she could call "home" and people who, if she was ever brave enough, she could call her "family."

Mukuro took notice of the things that Chrome didn't; he noticed that, on the days when surviving wasn't a chore, when Ken and Chikusa were not stretched too thin for so long, that they got along quite well. There was a playful warmth to their teasing, and they smiled a little. Laughter, soft and slight from Chikusa and loud and harsh from Ken, was also present.

He noticed how, on the cold nights, on the nights colder than most, Ken would wait until Chrome was asleep and drape his larger uniform jacket over her when Chikusa wasn't looking and the look in his eyes was sort of--caring, if he were to put a name to it that could not completely describe it. As close to caring as Ken could get to somebody he had no desire to know better. But he wouuld drape the material over Chrome's slim legs and pull it upas far as he could without having it fall off, mutter something that was supposed to be snide and sarcastic, without it's usual bite, and walk away.

Mukuro noticed how, on these nights and nights that were harsher, Ken would talk with Chikusa, or maybe he'd just push him over from where he was on the couch in order to make just enough room for the both to sit, stretched out as much as they could be. Chikusa would comply without comment and allow Ken to sit as close as he wished, just as long as it wasn't too close. Yet, Mukuro noticed, there hardly seemed to be a "too close" with them.

Some nights, when Chrome was asleep and Mukuro was listening silently, the two of them spoke in soft tones of things that were painful, or just of the past, but there was not much to distinguish the two. Ken's voice would be quiet and he'd stare at where Chrome was asleep, shivering in her revealing, well-worn uniform when he said:

"Reminds you of old times, huh?"

And Chikusa would say nothing, just lean his head back and sighs, the breath escaping before he can get a chance to say, "Past and present seem to be the same," or something of the like. He'd rather not think of how they were always waiting for Mukuro, and how the only answer that they ever recieved was, "Soon."

They all wished they knew when "Soon" would come.

Mukuro kept the girl because she was precious. She was the key to him living now, to him surviving. She seemed to be the key to everything that he had planned and everything that was to happen to him, because she was going to be connected, soon, to Sawada Tsunayoshi.

He kept her because she was his most fragile doll, the toy that he had to keep locked away somewhere lest it break, the toy that he spent his time guarding.

Give me a reason to live, he had asked, long before. Before he had met Ken and Chikusa, before he had been given the reason. Before he had been able to protect others. He had asked and pleaded for a reason to be alive, despite everything.

Now he only wished for her to become strong, as Ken and Chikusa were strong. Able to survive and able to live, as long as they were together. He wished for her to gain the strength to be without him, to provide for herself when he would not be there. To keep herself alive. He wished for her to be able to produce illusions so real that they became the truth within the illusion, without him.

Give me a reason to die, he thought to them, yet never letting them hear. Protect yourself and let me finally die.

Immortality was not as glorious as he had once thought.