Disclaimer: KHR does not belong to me.


Stare into the abyss.


Mukuro stood at the edge of his own mind, or so he presumed. It was pitch black around him, only the bright flickering lights somewhere beyond the edge gave off some kind of eerie light. The illusionist presumed that those were his memories and thoughts, since they were so far away from where he stood. They floated in a different kind of darkness than the one Mukuro was standing in, but he wasn't afraid of being alone like this, he never had been. He was used to it. The blackness and being alone. Besides, this was his mind – something he had created with his own hands.

"What is it that you are searching here for?" a voice, belonging to someone who wasn't a part of Mukuro's mind, asked. It held a tinge of curiosity, but the worry was more overwhelming.

The illusionist didn't look back. He started right into the black abyss of his mind and stretched his hand out, trying to catch some of those black threads that were left of his sanity and were now floating above the abyss and before his eyes. "How come you got in here so easily? My mind is strong and no one, even you, should be able to get in here. I made sure of that."

A chuckle and the newcomer was standing next to Mukuro, staring at the same black abyss by his feet, only his eyes didn't see the lights, nor the threads. He smiled towards the emptiness beyond the edge, "I am a part of the rings, the rings are a part of you, and therefore I am a part of you."

"How foolish." Mukuro muttered to himself and allowed for his hand to fall back, "I don't want you here. I want no one here, actually." He was tired and slowly going insane. Nothing could be done anymore, not anymore.

"I'm truly sorry for that, but I'm here to stay, unfortunately." He stops talking and then adds, "Just until you find your core, at least." There is a warm and welcoming smile on those lips now, directed at Mukuro rather than the abyss.

A pair of mismatched eyes turn away from the abyss and look to the left, narrowing ever so slightly at the blond that had invaded Mukuro's mind and then turn back to the blackness and emptiness that slowly seems to devour everything. There was a reason why some things were better left hidden in the mind and never seen by others. But Mukuro wouldn't start a talk on that now, not now and not here. He had to find it first.

The blond watches as Mukuro closes his eyes and stands still. Then the man blindly reaches out again and grasps something only seen by him. "You'll get nowhere like that. You will never find it, not like this." He reaches out to touch the illusionist's hands, "Let me help you."

"I don't need your help." Mukuro hisses and avoids the touch, mismatched eyes glaring at the blond, "Not after one of your guardians did this to me." There is a pain in his voice that can't be hidden and masked. It's just that kind of pain – a wound and weakness.

The blond flinched at those words. He knew it was all his fault, it was his inability to control his friend, his weakness that had allowed all of this to happen. Daemon was proof of what Giotto wasn't able to do and keep in check. But the one to pay the price was Mukuro, someone who was even more of a victim than Giotto.

There was a pause, Giotto looked at those long, pale fingers as they grasped things that only Mukuro could see, touched things that weren't meant for others to know about. Those were the pieces of Mukuro's mind, slowly coming back and repairing themselves, some – dying. It was a slow process, asking a lot out of Mukuro.

"Please, I've come to help you. Let me." Giotto wasn't begging. He was telling the Mist Guardian that the only way he would find what he was looking for, to fix his slowly breaking sanity and stop the abyss from expanding, would be found if only he accepted the help offered and listened.

Mukuro doesn't seem to have heard. His fingers are still catching the threads and failing to hold on to them for long. He knew though, knew that he needed help from the blond, for the man held the memories taken by Daemon, stolen while he was unable to truly fight back. It was yet another sign of a weakness he will have to get rid of, kill before it expands and is known by others. Mukuro was a strong man, someone who doesn't rely on others.

They stood in the silence, neither saying a word. When Mukuro's eyes finally flickered to Giotto they were void of the earlier hate and rage and pain. They were simply tired, so very tired that it only served to worry the other more. The illusionist shook his head, hands finally falling by his sides again and staying there, limp and helpless.

There was no use in trying to catch illusions, after all.

"No one can help me anymore, not even you, Giotto." He didn't sound desperate though, only acceptance of what will soon happen. "I'm too far gone. I can't reach them anymore. And my core isn't in there." A sigh followed and Mukuro's hand waved at the abyss. "It's with you."

Giotto stepped closer, careful not to go too close again. "You're not. You're still here, by the edge of the abyss, after all. Had you gone further…" his words died down. The blond didn't want to think about it, didn't want to think about losing someone so precious to him. Not again.

There was a smirk playing on those lips now and a playful glint in the mismatched eyes. A Mukuro that Giotto knew had woken up, finally. "Kufufufu~ Even if I go in there, I would still not be lost, not like that. Didn't I tell you – this is inside my head. I created it, even the abyss by our feet."

"You… created it?" Giotto asked, blue eyes looking over the abyss once again, trying to find a sign, any kind of sign that this wasn't the damage left by Daemon.

"Yes, in order to get rid of the damaged me I needed an abyss, a place to throw it out in." he stopped, breathing in and out, eyes closed and hands balled up in fists by his sides. "It's trying to come out again. But don't worry, love, it can't beat me. I am the owner and creator of this place." Mismatched eyes look straight into Giotto's blue ones and there is something in them that reassures in the truthfulness of those words.

The blond cups Mukruo's face and holds it, afraid to let go. "Then, the one that tried to put your sanity back together, that was the broken one? The afterimage left by Daemon?" the man doesn't wait for an answer, since he already knows it. There is no need to repeat it. "Will you come back?" he settles on those four words, afraid to say what he had really wanted.

"Of course I will, who do you think I am?" Mukuro's hands cover Giotto's, squeezing a little to reassure once again and calm down. He knew what Giotto wanted to say, knew that the blond was afraid, knew that there, actually, was no need for words. "You hold my core, I have to come back."

They both already knew and it was enough.

"You have to let me go now. For the sake of both of us, since you are now a part of me and even more." Mukruo says, his voice quiet and firm. His smile was no more, only a face of determination is left, something that Giotto was glad to see.

"I know." Was the whispered answer, hands tightening their hold on Mukuro's face before letting go, "Have a safe trip. And come back to me." Giotto held a warm smile. He was sure that the Mist Guardian would defeat the demons in his head – Mukuro was a strong man.

A pat on the shoulder and Mukuro was no longer next to him, only the blackness and quietness left as his companions if he wanted to stay here, by the edge of the abyss and Mukuro's mind. Giotto looked into the abyss once more and then turned to leave – his role here was done already.

"Come back to me, my love." He said to the darkness, trusting that it will give his last words to Mukuro, once he comes back from the abyss.


A/N: This is the result of one of the cutest and kokoro killing role-plays I've had the honor to be a part of. Though, that role-play is all about fluff and cute and embarrassed Giotto and Mukuro, this is something on the dark side and I swear to God, I don't know why.

It just happened.

Ayingott out.