Disclaimer: I do not own KHR, nor any of its characters.
A/N. My first khr fanfic, hope you enjoy!
When I Wake
Night has fallen and only the distant howling of wolves could be heard. Outside under the gaze of the lunar beings, leaves rustled soundlessly as a light breeze blew from the west. Amidst a vast pinewood, away from the nearby towns yet close enough to hear the bells toll each dawn, a western-styled mansion with prestigious awnings towered above. Bursts of water sprung forth from a fountain situated at the centre of the clearing as a long path cascaded away and into the unearthly forest. Birds bathed in the clear water as the grass whistled and swayed. The townspeople knew nothing of this mansion, nor of the people living within. It was mystery that would remain unspoken of to the unknowing. All they knew was the name 'Vongola' stammered with something akin to fear here and there. Under the pretense of omniscient knowledge, fabricators wove tales of nonsense about mafia and guns. Under the assumption of business enterprise and the like, the people remained blissfully unaware to the comings and goings of assassins and rival famiglia.
No one was awake to see the light shining through the fluttering curtains of a room on the second floor. With merely two candles illuminating the darkened office, the Vongola boss could be seen scribbling away on pieces of parchment as the wisps of orange flickered ever so slightly. Behind him, a medium-sized cabinet, its surface old and worn was pushed against the back wall. Above it hung a large painting whose colours seemed to pierce the looming darkness.
It was a portrait of a young man in his early twenties, with the amber flame atop his hair fading into light brown locks. Clad in formal attire, the black suit contrasted with his pale skin and his gloved hands hung casually by his sides. His eyes were blazing rings of fire, the intensity of his gaze was unnerving as it seemed to see right through your soul.
Only a mop of brown was visible behind the monstrous piles of paper. The sturdy desk appeared to groan under the weight, but nevertheless the antique held. Strands of brown fell to his tired eyes as the man stifled a yawn. It seemed like hours before the scratching sound of quill against paper ceased, and the first rays of daylight were thrown mercilessly into the room. There was a sigh of relief and faint sounds of movement before there was silence once more. At his desk, Sawada Tsunayoshi breathed heavily as signed documents were stacked neatly before him. After hours of grueling paperwork, the Vongola boss was finally able to breathe with ease. Reclining back into his comfort, Tsuna let the warmth of the dawning sun alleviate his fatigue. Turning his head towards the right to regard his top drawer, his fingers lingered almost wistfully on the faded wood before sliding it open with a light tug. Reaching in to retrieve a golden locket, he watched as it glinted in the sunlight and darted specks of blue and red across his office.
His contemplation was a quiet one, unbroken by the chimes of the grandfather clock downstairs.
"It's about time, isn't it?" As his voice broke the silence with barely a murmur, his eyes remained locked onto the ornament resting on the surface of his palm. He appeared to be composed but his demeanour gave way to unusual uncertainty as he awaited a response.
When there was a faint movement to his left, Tsuna showed no signs of surprise. He knew that he had heard him. Leaning against the wall shrouded by the shadows, a tall figure smirked before tilting his fedora down, hiding the amused gleam in his onyx eyes.
"Kufufu ..."
The mist faded to reveal a lean silhouette, his long hair swept into an elegant ponytail. His stance was relaxed and his heterochromatic eyes, which normally darted around warily were still. Somehow, his body had unconsciously lowered its guard in this individual's presence. He didn't know whether to be disgusted or relieved to have someone he could trust. After all he could never be too careful.
"Sawada Tsunayoshi ... To think you would willingly ask for me to come," Mukuro chuckled in amusement before tilting his chin up to regard the brunet smugly. "Vongola must have fallen." He knew that the tenth boss to the Vongola family had always been slightly disconcerted by the ambiguity of his true intentions. He had claimed to one day possess the boy's body, but has never actually acted upon it ... yet. It has been almost a decade so Mukuro wouldn't be too surprised if it had unknowingly slipped out of the brunet's mind. Well, he would certainly take pleasure in reminding him of this particular fact soon. Chuckling inward at the thought, the corners of his lips twitched upward into an arrogant smirk. 'Ma, no need to worry Vongola.'
Tsuna suppressed the urge to sigh and bang his head against the table. Rubbing the bridge of his nose, he lifted his head to scrutinise his Mist Guardian with honey brown eyes. On the surface, the illusionist's appearance was impeccable as always. His white shirt was smooth, completely free of wrinkles and his boots relatively new. Overall, he looked healthy and not like an inmate of Vendicare Prison. But Tsuna knew that when he gazed into those unreadable eyes, he would find deep within them, despair and loneliness. Those eyes bore his very soul, the only glimpse the Vongola boss would get of the other's true self. Under all those layers of illusion, Rukudo Mukuro was a broken man.
His jaw clenched imperceptibly as Tsuna balled his fists under his table. Despite his knuckles going white with strain, his expression remained unchanged. Tsuna could almost see the invisible lines of exhaustion under the other's eyes and the obscured slump of his shoulders. He felt a pang of sadness, of guilt. He had let a man, a friend who rarely showed any signs of weakness wither away. This Mukuro was only an empty shell, housing nothing but the pieces of a shattered conscience. Breathing deeply, Tsuna fought for sovereignty over his thoughts. Glancing up to the man before him, he reined in his emotions with care. He knew from experience that Mukuro hated others showing him pity. 'Any weakness means death, Vongola,' he had said offhandedly once. Of course, Tsuna wholeheartedly disagreed. Weakness just meant train harder, right? It meant that no human being was perfect, that everyone no matter how strong needed family and friends to look out for them.
"And we are your family," the brunet smiled contently, his eyes shone with genuine sincerity. Mukuro, however merely blinked in confusion. 'And family stick together, no matter what,' Tsuna continued inwardly, his heart overflowing with resolve as he ignored his mist guardian's bewilderment. 'This I had promised you.'
He had made that promise years ago but was it already too late to keep it?
Mukuro chuckled, and a burst of gas bubbles drifted from his parted lips. Quickly, they rose higher and higher like a balloon being set free into the night sky. Eventually they were gone, disappearing as the sounds of water sloshing broke the deafening silence. The memories of the past were beginning to plague his mind, replaying like a broken record. What this meant was inapparent to him at this moment in time but it was nothing he couldn't decipher. He had all the time in the world to do so after all.
Slipping open his eyes for the first time in days, Mukuro blinked when aqua green flooded his vision. All these days in pitch black and a little colour would simply astonish you. Letting his heterochromatic orbs to adjust, he made a move to bring a hand up to cover them when a faint clank of metal reached his ears. Peering down, he sighed when the shackles around his frail wrists refused to budge. He could have broken them easily but it would waste too much energy. They were especially made for illusionists like him so it would be unwise to underestimate their power. And there was always a possibility the Vendice would arrive before he made it pass the glass tank enclosing him like a cage.
Everyday, he was weakening. At first, he had barely taken notice of it. The feeling was similar to how one would stick a tube into one's body and slowly sap their blood, their energy, their life. Like a tendril, his strength waned with every full moon until he could no longer lift a hand to comb through his hair without grimacing visibly.
One thing that hadn't been taken away was his mind. The clarity of it still blinded him every morning. His memories, whether they were yesterday's or ten years ago remained clear and surreal. Truthfully, Mukuro was glad. He couldn't bear to live like the other inmates, tormented by lunacy and dwindling in insanity. When the Vendice had chained and drugged him all those years ago, Mukuro had been made to walk where the other criminals were kept. Their howling was raw to his unfamiliar ears and their eyes ... they were reduced to red slits. The sight of these monsters, how far they had fallen frightened him. The aggressive ones, vocal and expressive did not unnerve him ... but the ones with the dead and vacant look in their eyes were another thing altogether.
One man, his face scarred and pale in the dark had glanced up from where he sat when Mukuro was escorted pass. The emptiness in those lifeless orbs were as real and tangible as the illusions of the world's best illusionists. There was no hope in their slumped stance and they merely hung onto life in spite.
He had later sat in his cell, Ken and Chikusa in the one opposite of his and wondered if he would one day end up like that. The thought brought a flicker to his eyes. All of the sudden, he felt the exhaustion catch up to him and he hung his head. His hands, shackled reached up to bury its fingers into his scalp. No, he murmured to the eerie silence around him, the man's eyes in his mind like a constant reminder of his eventual fate, he would not end up like that. Never.
And he hadn't. With his mind intact and functional, Mukuro would count that as a bonus. Of course he wouldn't mind seeing sunlight once in a while, or even taking a dip in the beach and not in this aquarium, but he wasn't that dimwitted to ask for it. No doubt it would make him look stupid and insane.
With that being said, somewhere in his heart Mukuro still harboured hope of one day breaking out of this hellhole and travel the many places in the world. Not Italy, mafia basically swarmed the damn place. Perhaps England? He always wanted to wear a top hat without garnering too many stares. Clearly, that was impossible in Japan.
The Mafia... Mukuro had said to bring down the entire organisation in the future ...
He sighed. This goal of his had inadvertently slipped from his mind years ago, and he knew exactly who to extend the courtesy to. His subconsciousness assembled a hazy image of the Vongola Decimo. His boss. He had summoned Mukuro to his office once. It was about four years ago. Although he personally saw no purpose as to why the brunet had called, it had helped pass the time. The Vendice was so dull that he would have welcomed a game of chess if given the choice. They had regarded each other with an observant eye for half a heartbeat. The same caramel unruly locks, warm innocent eyes and a sincere smile. Then he had muttered something ... "and we are your family." Making no sense whatsoever, the seemingly innocent teenager had then proceeded to smile widely at him. He had shook his head in exasperation, but there was an undeniable air of contentment around them.
Then there was a crash downstairs and an ear-splitting wail, followed by Gokudera Hayato's thunderous cussing. When the 'baseball idiot' intervened, jokingly remarking on it "being no big deal," the bomber had rounded onto him in an instant and havoc ensued. And at that moment, with the commotion carrying on in the mansion and the sight of the skylark asleep under a sakura tree, his pet bird atop his dark locks, Mukuro realised that no, he did not harbour hope to break out Vendicare. A strange warm feeling, not unwelcomed enveloped his body when he realised that it was really for this famiglia and its boss to one day grant him salvation.
And the next time he woke, it was not to the endless sea of blue but blearily, to wide caramel eyes.
...
The man fitted in the suit manoeuvred through the throngs of people, his fedora tilted down to evade the rays of sunlight filtering through the overhead. He was greeted with forthright stares and questioning gazes which followed his even footsteps like a shining torchlight. The acrobaleno, arguably former, walked without breaking his stride and seemed blissfully unaware of the wide range of attention he was attracting. To the unsuspecting, the man was a businessman off on a stroll, his black suit unwrinkled and in pristine condition.
Turning into an alleyway, the hitman went for the gun in his holster. Leon peeked open an eye, watching on with a steady gaze. His fingers wrapping around the familiar smooth surface, Reborn spun when he sensed movement behind him and slammed the butt of his gun across the assassin's face. He heard a definite crack as the man collapsed, unconscious. Stepping closer, he saw it was the same man he had seen lurking around the area, meeting with other assassins on multiple occasions to gather more intel on the Vongola. Sighing, Reborn resumed his way back to the crowded streets of the teeming town after taking care of the body.
It was quiet, Reborn realised when he stepped onto the main street. His detour had taken longer than he thought and the sun had disappeared from the endless sea of blue almost an hour ago. Widening his strides, the hitman hoped to make it back in time for supper. He could already smell his expresso waiting for him miles away.
His idiot student had come a long way, the thought crossing his mind suddenly. He still recalled the scrawny kid he had come to Namimori to tutor all those years ago. Now, that kid was busy with piles of paperwork in his office, as the tenth boss to one of the strongest mafia families in the world. Reborn kind of knew that deep inside, behind those layers of uncertainty and the almost incurable stuttering that Tsuna had something special that drew people in. It was a light, a promise filled with hope and held conviction. It was the same orange glow in his eyes that his guardians, all different and conflicting individuals were drawn to, and the resolution reflected within them that convinced the Varia boss, Xanxus of his aspirations for Vongola's future. And it was those same orbs, the warm sky flame flickering on the top of his head that changed the destiny of the arcobaleno. The Vongola Boss had finally done it. He had freed each and every one of the cursed infants.
Together with Talbot, Giannini and Hibari Kyoya, they had managed to break the curse. Even now, Reborn still could not resist looking into puddles and mirrors, praying not to see the tiny hands that he had once become so familiar with. It was strange, being in an adult's body. He could no longer sneak into cracks and crevices along the walls, nor could he dangle from the ceiling, without gravity doing its job and having him fall face down onto the floor. Despite all that, he could not deny that he felt nothing but sincerity for his student and for what he has done. Tsuna might not know it, but breaking the curse meant much more than freeing them from their infant forms. And the other arcobaleno had been nothing but quick in showing their gratitude for the brunet, their gestures and frequent appearances much to Reborn's chagrin.
Regardless of where their missions take them, from France to Canada, or from Thailand to New Zealand, the staff of the Vongola residence would catch a glimpse of the former members of the arcobaleno every few months without fail. They were either there for business, or a social call. Several occasions, Reborn had spotted the tail of Fon's red robe flitting through the hallways, before later seeing him having tea with Tsuna on the balcony downstairs, the steam from their cups rising above them in wisps of white. They would talk for hours, sometimes until the sun had set, when the children had returned to the comforts of their homes and they could hear the distant calling of the crickets.
Surprisingly, it was Skull who was seen visiting the most. From a distance, Reborn would hear the engine of his motorbike, before it would cease completely when Skull steered it to a stop just outside the mansion. Sliding off his helmet, he would leap over the gate (the butler had already cleared his entrance) and could then be seen chatting with the boss within a minute of his arrival. Skull would then sprint towards the basement, and down the stairs to Spanner's workshop. The pair would not be present for dinner, spending the night there to examine and improve the latest models of the Vongola bikes.
Verde, with his white coat fluttering behind him could sometimes be seen at the lab, the light still on late into the night and the sounds of rapid typing muffled by the closed door. On the training grounds, the voices of Lal Mirch and Colonnello could be distinguished from the call of the morning birds as they rigorously trained the new members of the CEDEF. The only one Reborn did not mind was Viper, who had recently taken over the management of Vongola's funds, as the illusionist never struck up a conversation with him, merely inclining his head in acknowledgement when they passed one another in the corridors.
When they were still the arcobaleno, Reborn had rarely seen the others. It would have been a miraculous chance should they have bumped into each other. He had been comfortable with that arrangement since he could not stand Skull's stupidity and Verde's calculating eyes. The rest he was ok with, but he certainly would not be the one to invite them over for a slumber party. Now that they felt indebted to Tsuna, it was almost guaranteed that every time he returned to the mansion from a mission, long or short, Reborn would no doubt see one of his fellow pacifier-holders waiting to torment him with their mere presence.
Now that he was returning to the mansion once again, it was irrefutable that at least one of the former arcobaleno was present. Well, he thought, at least it won't be all of them at the same time.
His feet taking him to where the veranda to Decimo's office was, Reborn tilted up his fedora to see the lights filtering through the thin curtains. Flipping himself over the railing, the hitman did not bother silencing his footfalls. He wasn't sneaking up on an enemy, there was simply no need but he did have to remind himself to land a little gracelessly. When his polished shoes make contact with the concrete, resulting in a audible clack, the voices speaking inside halted.
Not giving himself time to ponder on who it could be, Reborn ducked under the curtains and hid his eyes automatically when he was under the scrutiny of light from the overhead chandelier.
"Ah. Reborn, you're back!"
His student, attired in a plain black suit stood up with a smile, before reaching over his desk to pour a cup of expresso. Nodding, Reborn slid back a chair, falling into it and looked over to where Tsuna's visitors were seated. The first one his noticed was Chrome, her trident no where to be seen and her violet hair longer than the last time he had seen her. It now reached slightly past her shoulders, unbound and curled at the ends. To her left stood the two boys that were a part of Kokuyo gang. Both of them, dressed in their uniform eyed him with distrust and suspicion whereas Reborn received a blank stare from their last companion. With his frog hat on, Fran had now turned his attention to the portrait behind on the wall.
Raising an eyebrow, the action going unnoticed by all except the brunet behind the desk, Reborn lifted up the steaming cup of coffee given to him and took a sip.
"As I was saying, this mission is very dangerous and I know all of you care about Mukuro, but I want you all to be absolutely sure before agreeing," Tsuna resumed, reclining into his chair once more. His eyes, steady and honest were directed to the four who listened attentively to his words.
Reborn was waiting for who to speak up and he was not surprised when the sole female did. "We want to be the ones to rescue Mukuro-sama, boss." Even to this day, Chrome had refused to call Tsuna anything but 'boss,' to which the brunet had begrudgingly accepted.
Interlacing his fingers and leaning forward over his desk, Tsuna showed neither approval nor disapproval. In deep thought, the Vongola Boss continued to stare intently at each of their faces before letting out a long sigh when they passed some sort of test.
"Very well," he gave in with a smile. When there was a chorus of agreement, Tsuna turned to the silent hitman expectantly.
"If you're going to ask me to go on this mission, then no." He held up a hand when the brunet proceeded to protest, and before he would let himself fall victim to the other's pout again, Reborn added, "Mukuro's your guardian. It is only fitting that the boss goes to protect his family, not his advisor."
He knew he used the wrong words when a deafening silence followed. After a moment, his voice softened minutely. "I'll get Gokudera to take over the paperwork, so don't worry and go." Having said enough, Reborn leaned back into his chair and indulged in his long-awaited expresso.
The moon was shining vividly in the night sky when Tsuna finally had the office to himself. When he had briefed them on their mission, Ken had received it with bulging eyes that expressed clearly, his eagerness whereas Chrome and Ken nodded dutifully. Fran showed no interest in the subject, aside from the slight twitch of the hand which bore his hell ring as his impassive eyes landed on the golden locket Tsuna had left sitting on the right of his desk.
Now, as his fingers met the smooth surface of the object, Tsuna let his tutor's words fill his thoughts. After two heartbeats, he smiled.
On the contrary, the seemingly sharp tone of his advisor was really Reborn being considerate. The way his teacher does things were out of the ordinary, at times ambiguous but he meant well. Though he could be a real bully sometimes, Tsuna could always count on the hitman.
That's right, Mukuro's my family. I should be the one leading this mission and bringing him back safely.
Tsuna brought forth his memories of the mist guardian. He was glad Mukuro accepted them as family. There was always a flicker of loneliness in the illusionist's eyes when he thought no one was watching. He recalled the flashes of images he had seen in Mukuro's memories. They all filled him with despair and a chill that seeped through his bones. Tsuna's heart reached out, and he desperately wanted to hold onto him. Don't let him fall, don't let him go.
And he wouldn't. Tomorrow. Tomorrow, he would take Mukuro away from Vendicare Prison and back to their home, where laughter reverberated through the numerous rooms of the Vongola mansion.
Please wait a little longer, Mukuro, his features softening as his eyes slid shut. We'll get you out of there soon.
Those where his last thoughts when he drifted off to sleep. The locket, with a number six engraved onto its surface was still clutched tightly in his hand when the sun's rays fell onto his face the next morning he woke.
...
"Chrome, Fran."
Three figures could barely be made out as their shadows moulded themselves into the hard surface of the wall. Chrome and Fran both nodded as they poured all their concentration onto their illusion. Viper and Shoichi, having just figured out a way to combine illusions, had quickly informed the duo before they had left for the Vendice. It certainly feels stronger, Tsuna noticed as his contacts picked up on the invisible flames that were being released.
They had decided to split up, upon arrival at the perimeters of the prison. Tsuna, Chrome and Fran were to be in charge of breaking Mukuro out and Ken and Chikusa were responsible for their getaway. Tsuna couldn't help but mentally complain about how less simple it would have been if Bermuda had not fallen into a comatose state and was deemed incapable of guarding the prison after the Representative Battle, and what was his name - Herisa? Harius? - would not have taken over the surveillance of Vendicare. This made things a little more complicated, seeing as the new boss of the Vendice had banned any kind of exchange to free prisoners. They have turned away everyone and everything, and any attempts in negotiating for a meeting was out of the question.
When the Representative Battle was over, Tsuna and Bermuda had parted on good terms, with the holder of the clear pacifier promising to release the Vongola mist guardian as the terms for an alliance. But not long after, Bermuda had fallen into a comatose state and there has been no word since he had disappeared with the Vendice.
When a new system and new guards were being instilled in Vendicare, Tsuna had been too busy with settling into his position as boss of Vongola and dealing with alliances with other families. After many attempts in an exchange for the release of Rukudo Mukuro followed by the Vendice's refusal, Tsuna had sat down with his guardians to discuss the issue. They had been hesitant to agree to breaking in the prison, but after a few hours of persuading (which included Ryohei's extreme moments, Yamamoto's good-natured suggestions which led to Gokudera going off, Lambo's constant pleads for dinner to be served early and Tsuna's cry of frustration), it was decided. Though the repercussions could be severe, the Vendice declaring war on Vongola by far the most unsettling, the entire family was resolute.
As Tsuna crept behind a guard and knocked him unconscious in less than a second, he could only think ... they're not very strong. They were surprisingly easy to sneak up and take out. Tsuna paused, blinking when another one came down just as easily. He was alone in the entire expanse of the hallway and he could faintly pick up the footsteps of Chrome and Fran as they made their way to where Byakuran was held on the other side of the prison.
After a moment, when he could no longer sense any disturbances, Tsuna sprinted for the large metal door located at the far end. No guards. This new system was really flawed. Shrugging, Tsuna busted open the door and it went flying forward when he released his sky flames. Still no guards, all the better then.
When the door flew off its hinges, the chamber became flooded with light. The rodents were scuttling away when the first rays pierced into each and every corner. Stepping over the scraps of metal that had been chipped off, Tsuna heard the soft clacks of his shoes as he made his way to the other side of the room. Here in this darkened room, it was empty but the huge tank that stood monstrously at the back. Inside, was Mukuro.
His long blue hair, reaching down his back was all around him in tresses. Clad in simple white clothing, Mukuro looked almost peacefully if not for all the tubes and wires protruding from his body. His eyes were closed, and bubbles rose from the gas mask that covered the lower half of his face. Tsuna almost launched himself at him when he became aware of the other's deathly pale skin, if it wasn't for the methodical beeping of a monitor. He's fine, he forced himself to repeat like a mantra as he hesitantly went towards the tank.
He saw no buttons to disable all the wires anywhere, but down below, there was a lever. Tsuna reached to grasp it, feeling the coldness spread over his palm. He breathed in slowly, his hesitance evident through the beads of sweat that had gathered at his brow. He bit his lip. What if this lever cuts off the oxygen supply? What if it is only for emergencies and it will cause a shut down?
Then, he felt calmness sink in. It was an intense feeling that made his fingers loosen slightly its grip on the lever and his eyes to slip shut. It was quiet and then, Tsuna heard a chuckle. It was hazy, like it was conjured from the recesses of his mind. His eyes snapped open, only to meet a pair of blue and red. His mind registered the one in his eye fading into the number six before Tsuna felt the lever under his palm being pulled downward. The last thing he heard, before the glass tank exploded outward and the waves of water and shards of glass came cascading down towards him was the same chuckling he had heard before. Instantly, he knew, even before Mukuro's lips curled upward.
Please kindly leave your thoughts.