Disclaimer: Common sense.
Warning: Might contain OOC.
Sunset came with streaks of red staining the sky, something the mist could not disguise.
Under the careful guidance of his ex-tutor, Reborn, Sawada Tsunayoshi had emerged to the world as a brilliant young mafia boss. That evening, he sat at his desk – in his much too big suit and far too grand office – with an odd-eyed fiend seated right across him.
"How odd," he commented, helping himself to another cup of tea, "of you to report to me straight after your mission. Weren't you always the elusive one?"
"That is not my job, Tsunayoshi. Do not garble myself with the walking rage that you call your Cloud Guardian," replied Mukuro, voice deep and smooth.
Tsuna smiled humorlessly.
"How did the mission go?"
"It didn't go well of course. Why else would I be sitting here sipping expensive tea with my boss, safely tucked in his office, nonetheless?"
"Your sense of humor has gone vapid, Mukuro."
Tsuna knew. He may have had commented on it as though talking about the weather, but the topic at hand was far more grave – it involved ruthless bloodshed and innumerable lives.
The worst, Tsuna thought, was that his hands were not stained – he sent people to do the dirty deed for him, and one such person was in his presence at the moment.
"So tell me," he said, rubbing the sides of his teacup with a thumb and index finger, "how great are your illusions?"
"I can deceive reality, Tsunayoshi."
"And how far can you take it? Can you deceive my reality?" another sip – "I have ended countless lives with one word of my mouth. My hands are stained and yet they are clean. Reality is deceiving me, Mukuro."
All Mukuro did was to return a mysterious grin.
"My illusions cannot change that; perhaps my words will," he said, putting the cup back onto its saucer.
"Pray tell, how might you do that?"
"You often forget whom you are talking to. I don't only twist minds with magic; I contort them with words, Tsunayoshi."
He gave a curt nod.
"You kill to protect," he said simply. Tsuna stared at him for a short moment. It was obvious – Reborn had told him so many times and so many times had he needed to be reminded to throw away noble ideals of saving everyone. For No-Good Tsuna, saving everyone was not what he could do. For No-Good Tsuna, he could become no superhero.
"You are naïve, Sawada Tsunayoshi. Do you think that no one can go unhurt and unscathed, and yet guarantee the safety and smiles of your family? The mafia is not a place with rainbows, bunnies and sprawling fields."
Tsuna would have known, Tsuna should have known. Whatever Mukuro spoke of was naught but truth. Mukuro had had first hand experience of the true hell that was "mafia" – it was definitely not what Yamamoto had thought it to be before: a harmless child's game with harmless advanced toys.
One month. One month into the real job and he had not quite gotten used to sending people out to draw lives. And yet, Rokudo Mukuro, who before had vehemently detested the Mafioso, who had once been a cynical man who wanted nothing more than to plunge the world into chaos and destruction, spoke words of relief to his heavy heart. Here, Rokudo Mukuro sat, reminding him of his purpose.
"So, Mukuro, when can we arrange the next tea session?"
A/N: I don't know why I came up with this. I thought that Tsuna wouldn't get used to having people get killed on his orders within such a short time frame, whether or not it was for the sake of his family, even with Reborn's constant hankering. As for Mukuro being the resident shrink…I'm not too clear either, because Reborn would have probably fit the role better, but I was trying to imagine the interaction between these two.
I personally think it makes very little sense by itself. It feels as though there are some discrepancies, a lot of OOC and an abrupt end; I'd appreciate feedback and criticism to improve my writing though, I'm still particularly new to fan-fiction writing.
Thank you for reading.