Merry Christmas everyone! This is a Secret Santa gift for HG59 (Hope you like it!) and is partially to blame for me not having updated IWC or OHAE in a while. I also blame life, but that's another story.
My prompt was Mukuro and Hibari, "romance, maybe action if you're up to it". Well, um, I don't usually ship Mukuro and Hibari and I never write romance but I couldn't think of anything for the second option and hence this was born! It's... not quite what the prompt said? But I like a challenge and I tried so I'm happy. :D
Not sure if a Secret Santa fic is meant to be Christmassy, but this isn't except for one brief reference at the end. I sorta don't really celebrate Christmas, so I didn't think of that until I'd almost finished writing.
Anyway, hope you enjoy! I'm off to go write IWC now.
1.
It had been a peaceful day so far, thankfully, although perhaps that shouldn't have been much of a surprise - anything less wouldn't have been tolerated. Hibari had only had to bite two students for being late that morning and had been working his way through several piles of paperwork ever since, Hibird fluttering between the desk and his perch in the other corner of the reception room whenever he felt like it. Occasionally he would settle on Hibari's head, other times landing on top of a particularly high stack of papers. Between the upcoming winter vacation and Foundation (now a minor branch of the Japanese Vongola) there was certainly plenty to do.
Unfortunately, the peace wasn't to last.
Hibird's chirping and sudden mad circling caught his attention first, causing Hibari to look up and gently set his pen on his desk. He tensed, a familiar cold shiver tickling the back of his neck, and twisted in his seat to stand-
Crash!
Hibari was halfway across the room, tonfas drawn, before he had even had the chance to think. He glared at the shards of glass now scattered across the floor, then turned his deadly gaze on the figure framed in the smashed window.
"Get out," Hibari spat.
"Kufufufu," Mukuro laughed, stepping down from his perch on the windowsill, absently brushing off glass shards with the hand not holding his trident. "Is that any way to greet a guest, Kyoya? Especially during such a festive and giving season."
Hibari let a growl tear from his throat and sank into a stronger stance, tonfas raised. "Get. Out."
"But that's not fair," Mukuro whined, his voice a mocking imitation of a small child's. "I just wanted to say hello, maybe play a little. You could even give me a tour of the school while I'm here-"
A clang heralded the first clash of weapons, Mukuro's trident raised to block Hibari's tonfa, spikes out and barely inches from the illusionist's face.
Mukuro's laughter echoed strangely in the room as he stepped back, his expression amused while his eyes and posture belied his excitement and bloodlust. "Is that your response to everything, then? Do you always try to bite everyone?"
"If they are undisciplined, yes" Hibari replied through grit teeth. He was beside his desk now, having also taken a step back, and reached over to his a button that would tell Kusakabe that he was not to be disturbed.
Grinning madly, Mukuro idly swung his staff around him before planting it on the floor beside him and leaning on it, sharp eyes watching Hibari's every move. "'Undisciplined', of course," Mukuro quoted. "But there's one exception, isn't there."
When Hibari just glared, letting silence fill the room for a moment, Mukuro smirked and continued, "The young Vongola. He has always been an exception, hasn't he? Even you bow to him; listening to him, answering when he calls-"
Mukuro barely had the time to raise his tonfa as Hibari surged forward, animalistic anger seeping from every pore. Mukuro laughed, weaving through the barrage of attacks with unparalleled grace, but the sound was cut off the next time they met, faces mere breaths apart, when Hibari replied with a whispered, "So do you."
The desk's chair went flying first, kicked out of the way by Mukuro so that he could sweep his trident toward Hibari's knee better, then a pile of paperwork was caught in the draft of Hibari's attacks and soon the room was a mess of stationary and broken furniture as they danced lightly through the carnage like two birds of prey.
It was at Kusakabe's hesitant knock on the door, some five minutes later, that Hibari was drawn from his rage-filled haze enough to realise the extent of the damage done to his office. With a feral growl he lunged, shoving both tonfa under Mukuro's guard and into his chest, sending the illusionist flying through the broken window.
Hibari was only a step behind, leaping through the shattered glass himself just as his door opened and a worried Kusakabe poked his head in, and took off as soon as he landed, chasing the laughing Mist Guardian across the school's campus.
On the other side of the school several heads snapped up at the sound of fighting. A minute later, when the combatants were identified, some sighed, some grinned and others simply went back to their work, ignoring the sounds with the ease of long practice.
One boy though, brown eyes briefly flashing bright gold, turned to stare out the window with a frown on his face and worried thoughts in his mind.
2.
"Mukuro..."
The figure on the couch, hidden by the deep shadows that swallowed the barren, damaged and cavernous room, let his eyes flutter open and a smile drift across his face in answer to the voice. He let his head roll to the side, body still laid out along the soft cushions, and met Chrome's one visible eye with his own smiling gaze. "Chrome. To what do I owe the pleasure?"
Chrome smiled back, pleased to see Mukuro relaxing, then paused, obviously uncertain. Finally, after a few seconds of deliberation, she reluctantly stepped sideways and opened the door wider to reveal another figure lurking in the shadows. "You have a visitor."
Two brows raised as the figure stepped forward, smile twisting into an amused smirk as Mukuro pushed himself up to sit properly on the couch, one arm on the armrest, hand supporting his head. "Oya, what's this? It feels almost nostalgic."
Hibari glared across the open space between them as he entered, taking only a dozen steps forward before stopping. Behind him, Chrome bit her lip, glancing between the two anxiously, before letting out an inaudible sigh and stepping back, closing the door softly as she went.
"Welcome," Mukuro murmured, throwing an arm out theatrically, "to my humble abode. Admittedly I hadn't thought to see you here again after our first few meetings but it's a... pleasant surprise."
Hibari's heavy gaze didn't change as he slipped an envelope from an inside pocket of his jacket, holding it out in explanation. "I have a letter from Sawada. And the baby."
"So you're a messenger boy for Vongola now?" Mukuro mocked, smirk widening. "What was it I said last time we met..."
With a snarl Hibari threw the envelope across the room, the thick package flying almost ten metres to land on the floor just in front of the Mukuro's feet. The illusionist's brows rose again, a small laugh slipping from between his lips as they quirked upwards in amusement, and he bent forward to retrieve it with the air of someone humouring a small child.
"Oya," Mukuro muttered a minute later, once we had reclined in the couch and read through half the first page of the several documents within the envelope. "What's Vongola thinking..."
"Sawada doesn't trust the other famiglias," Hibari pointed out. "He is worried that the alliance negotiations are a trap." Mukuro glanced up briefly, acknowledging the possibility, before returning to reading the letters. Eventually he turned back to the first page, re-reading the list of invited famiglias, and frowned. The mere presence of some of them hinted at the very likely possibility that the meeting was an elaborate cover for an assassination attempt. Still, if anyone could achieve the impossible...
"Why does Vongola want me to attend?" Mukuro mused with a slight frown. Then with a self-deprecating twist of his lips he added, "Usually I'm outright banned from these meetings."
"Sawada is worried," Hibari repeated. "Everyone is going."
"Even me?" Mukuro asked, his voice and expression wry. "Even if he wants to do a show of strength, I'm a bad choice. Most of the mafia regard me as Vongola's greatest mistake."
"He wants you to go," Hibari answered with a roll of his shoulders that might have been a shrug. He turned to leave, striding toward the door, and threw back, "So you will go."
"Oya, oya," Mukuro murmured, finally standing. The envelope and letters fell to the couch as his trident materialised in his hand. "Leaving so soon, birdy? We haven't even had a chance to play yet."
Hibari just kept walking, swinging the door open gently and taking a step through before pausing, lips curling into a smirk. "I don't have the time to play, pineapple."
Hell erupted throughout the room, gigantic pillars of flame scorching everything in sight and lighting Mukuro's insane grin with an eery glow as he charged across the room. The door closed in his face, the sound of fast moving footsteps from the other side fading quickly, but it was soon open again and the chase was on. Soon enough the echo of clashing weapons and falling masonry rang throughout the complex, interspersed with vicious growls and mad laughter.
Across town, seated at his desk reading the latest the latest from the Ninth, the Vongola Tenth glanced up to stare out his window with a frown. Another tingle ran down the back of his neck and absently he raised a hand to rub at it, mind falling back to familiar worries.
3.
Sawada's Hyper Intuition had been right, of course. The whole alliance negotiation meeting had been a set up organised by several of the famiglias present (though not all, thankfully) in an attempt to take out Sawada and as many of his Guardians as possible. It had taken almost an hour for the attack to begin, well after the niceties and initial arguing had finished, but it hadn't been any more of a surprise for the delay.
Hence the current situation. The Vongola Guardians were scattered, though mostly in pairs, and each had orders to take down the famiglias who had participated in the ruse. Anyone they captured would be spending a fair while in Vongola or Vendice cells while the rest would be left to crawl home with their tails between their legs like the herbivores they were.
Speaking of herbivores...
"Go away," Hibari snarled, smashing a tonfa into another idiot's head.
Mukuro laughed, swinging his trident into one mafioso as he strangled another with conjured lotus vines. "I was here first, birdy. Find your own room to destroy."
Hibari growled, punching his other tonfa forward into a man's gut, not-so-accidentally sending a lamp flying Mukuro's way in the process. "They're my prey," he argued.
Redirecting the lamp into an unfortunate mafioso's head, Mukuro smirked. "We're on the same team, aren't we? I believe that makes them our prey."
The crack of a body slamming into a wall was his only answer, but Mukuro took it as a displeased and emphatic 'no'. Before he could reply a new wave of enemies streamed into the room, further trampling the previously immaculate grand parlour. The Vongola Guardians gained almost identical maniacal grins, and leapt forward. Soon they were completely lost in the rhythm of the battle.
Left uppercut, right jab, then a wide sweep. Right swing, dodge knife, spikes to the back of the knee. Left tonfa to head, right to stomach. Jab, swing, stab, dodge...
It took almost five minutes to clear the room of moving attackers. Both Vongola were covered in blood - not their own - but were hardly sweating. They surveyed the destroyed room and piles of groaning bodies with pleased expressions as they each cleaned their weapons on the nearest available material.
"Time to move on, I think," Mukuro announced, grinning happily. "Hopefully the others have left us a few more."
Hibari didn't answer but crossed the room, stepping over - and sometimes on - unresponsive bodies, only to stop with his hand halfway to the door handle.
Mukuro drew level and gave Hibari a curious glance. "Problem?" he asked. The Cloud Guardian just gave him a look, letting his hand fall back to his side, before turning back to stare at the door. Mukuro felt his lips twitch up into a small, amused smile. "Despite my many skills, I'm not able to read minds. Words were invented for a reason, after all."
Briefly Hibari let his gaze shift so that he could glare at the illusionist. "It's shut."
"And?" Mukuro asked, voice patronising.
Hibari was silent for a moment, then a wicked light came into his eyes and he smirked as he sketched a shallow and mocking bow. "Ladies first."
A startled laugh, not quite as creepy as his usual sound, broke free from Mukuro even as his hand tightened on his trident and the beginnings of a familiar haze fell over his mind. "So the birdy can make jokes," Mukuro exclaimed gleefully, still chuckling between words. "Who knew!"
Straightening, still smirking, Hibari sent a glance at the still closed door then raised a brow in challenge at Mukuro. "Well?"
The illusionist grinned. "Why so reluctant to open it yourself, little birdy?"
"If you're so eager, why don't you open it, pineapple," Hibari shot back.
Mukuro's knuckles paled to white around his trident, even as he grinned madly. "I thought we had been over this, birdy. I'd appreciate it if you remembered the lesson."
"'Me thinks the lady doth protest too much'," Hibari quoted, smirk widening.
Hibari's tonfa were barely fast enough to block Mukuro's swing. Both leant in above their crossed weapons to leer at each other.
"Do you want to die?" Mukuro hissed, voice dripping with poisonous honey.
"Do you want to be bitten?" Hibari answered, a growl underlying his words.
Mukuro stepped back, just enough to clear his weapon, and felt his eye start to flick through kanjis. "You're welcome to try," he mocked. "Just don't expect to win."
It was as they each prepared to charge that a faint click was heard from the other side of the door. Both Vongola turned to stare at the innocent-looking entry then, a second later, whirled to dash in the opposite direction.
They only got a few steps.
Red-white light, roaring sound, boiling heat and searing heat rolled through the room, fragments of wood and plaster flying in its wake. The last thing Hibari and Mukuro saw before they each fell into unconsciousness was each other, expressions showing shock and surprise and, somewhere deep beneath their masks of strength, a stab of fear.
Across the mansion, flying high above a swarm of enemy mafioso, Tsuna felt the blood drain from his face as frantic shouting came across the comms from the team back at base who had been watching the mansion's security feed.
Spinning in the air, Tsuna shouted a quick explanation to Ryohei below, then sped off in the direction of the blast.
He only hoped to god that he wasn't too late.
4.
The dead silence of unconsciousness reminded him too much of his stay in Vendicare for it to ever be relaxing, but the beeping of machines that assaulted his ears when Mukuro first drifted awake was only slightly more welcome. The light that shone through his closed eyelids was enough to make him wince, so he didn't even attempt to open his eyes at first, instead mentally cataloging the room.
There were two other people with him, he thought, and the sounds and smells told him it was a rather large hospital room that he was unfortunate enough to be inhabiting. The beeping was by far the most annoying part of it all, his ears still not quite used to loud or piercing sound after so many years of complete silence in the Vendice's Water Prison, though the strong scent of bleach was a close second.
His eyes finally adjusting to what little light they were receiving, Mukuro let his eyelids crack open the tiniest amount. Blinding white hit his retinas and he slammed his eyes shut again, letting out a soft moan accidentally.
"Y'r 'wake..." a voice slurred from across the room. Mukuro waited a minute before braving the light again, turning his head in the direction of the sound and squinting across the distance. A blob of black at one end of a long stretch of white was all his hazy vision was able to discern and Mukuro took a moment to curse under his breath - or tried to, anyway, as muttering even one syllable caused the skin around his mouth and throat to pull and burn in the most painful way.
"'urns," the voice muttered again, obviously having heard Mukuro's attempt at swearing. And then the memories came rushing back, of the negotiations and the guns appearing, of splitting up and fighting and arguing with Hibari and-
Another groan, this one on purpose and in place of what would have been some very painful swearing, was met with a weak chuckle from the side.
"Hi'ari?" Mukuro managed, the sounds garbled until they were barely intelligible, but a grunt from the other confirmed his suspicions.
Getting sick of his currently-useless vocal ability, and disregarding the many reason why he shouldn't do it, Mukuro forced his way through the cotton in his head - pain medication, he remembered, like when he had just been released - and tapped into his Flame, his trident materialising in his hand once more. Even just the familiar weight of it, pressing his hand down into the mattress, reassured him more than anything else had so far. Then, channeling his power through the trident, he conjured one of his oldest and easiest illusions.
"Hello? Oh good, it works."
A groan from the other bed met that comment as it echoed through the room, projected from his mind by his Flame. The voice was a little shaky, hitching slightly on the 'd', but it was a voice and that was all that mattered.
"I should probably let you know now, Kyoya-" a muttered curse had him suppressing a smirk, "-that if I'm going to be stuck in bed for a long time, you'll likely be hearing me a lot. I hope you don't mind."
"No you won't."
Mukuro started slightly at the new voice, having forgotten about the third person in the room, but he couldn't hide his small grin this time.
"Vongola. Have you been watching over us, waiting for us to wake up?"
"Yes, actually," Sawada answered and there was a steel to his voice that Mukuro had very rarely heard. And he wasn't stuttering or stammering, though there was a sense of fatigue underlying his tone. "You've been asleep for two days. Hibari woke up about eight hours ago."
"Only two days?" Mukuro asked, mock-surprised. "We can't be very badly hurt then."
"You both have major second degree burns, with a few patches of third degree burns. You in particular Mukuro," and Sawada finally moved into sight, his brown hair and eyes obvious in Mukuro's almost-focused sight, a slight shake entering into his voice. "The doctors think that because you spent so long in Vendicare, you body is less able to deal with the damage. You're healing a lot slower than you should be."
The churning feeling in his stomach matched Mukuro's tumbling emotions as he processed the information. Second degree burns? Third? And his healing rate... "How long?"
"To heal?" Sawada asked. "Two to three weeks, maybe a little longer. We're not quite sure. Reborn even asked Shamal if there was anything he could do but he said he wouldn't want to play with your system without knowing what kind of damage was done during your imprisonment."
Imprisonment. It always came back to that, didn't it. For the millionth time Mukuro cursed the Vendice and their inhumane cells to the depths of hell, where nightmares walked the land and the screaming never ceased.
"Fuuta was watching the security feeds," Sawada's voice interrupted. "That's how we knew you had been caught in an explosion. That's the only reason we knew."
"You had a kid watching videos of us mauling people?" Mukuro asked, tone incredulous. "I thought you were above such things."
"He was bringing Shouichi and Spanner lunch, and just happened to see the explosion while they were monitoring a different screen." He paused then in a lower voice added, "You were very lucky."
"We would have gotten out," Mukuro protested. He heard a mumbled agreement from Hibari - either the Cloud Guardian had severe facial injuries or was on some pretty strong medications because his pronunciation was terrible - and had to push back a grin again.
"Maybe," Tsuna conceded. "But not without even worse injuries."
"Doesn' ma'er," Hibari's voice came again. "I wou' live."
Mukuro laughed, amused and not willing to let the opportunity go. "We would have lived, you mean. Nothing in this world could kill me off."
"I can," the skylark muttered, voice gaining strength as the conversation shifted into familiar territory. "When we ge' ou'-"
"Neither of you will be trying to kill anyone for a long while yet," Sawada interrupted. "Even Reborn agreed that you weren't to do anything strenuous - particularly fighting - for at least a month.
"Don't 'ell me wha' to do, Sawa'a," Hibari slurred.
Mukuro saw the way Hibari's arms twitched in an aborted instinctive reach for his tonfas and briefly considered conjuring a pair just to see what Hibari would - could - do in his state. Instead he added,"Yes, Vongola. Don't think you can order us around like certain others of your loyal dogs."
A muttered, "Herbivores," from Hibari set Mukuro grinning again, even as Tsuna frowned at them both.
"I'm not ordering you to do anything, Mukuro, Hibari," the Vongola Tenth stated. "I can however put you both under watch and have people ready to intervene if you start doing anything that might risk your recovery."
Mukuro laughed, catching Hibari's smirk out of the corner of his eye. "Do you really think any of your friends could take us down, even injured?"
"Dino is coming to visit," Tsuna explained, ignoring the way Hibari stiffened, "and Reborn has been teaching Gokudera and Yamamoto how to shoot. All three were recently gifted tranquiliser guns. Trust me, someone will stop you if you start anything stupid."
"Wao," murmured Hibari, and Mukuro was inclined to agree. Sawada was obviously absolutely committed to making sure they recovered fully and that was more than a little bit strange. Mukuro wasn't used to that kind of... care, but he could admit that the sentiment of it was nice, even if he didn't appreciate the practical aspects of it.
"Fine," Mukuro conceded after a minute of silence. "We'll behave. Happy?"
Tsuna grinned. "Very." Then he glanced around, suddenly seeming unsure of himself and reverting to the much more familiar Dame-Tsuna. "Um, is there anything you need?"
"Leave."
Smiling tightly, Sawada acknowledging Hibari's request (order) with a nod. "Mukuro? You should probably sleep, so if there's anything you want-"
"Now."
Sawada sighed. "I just want to make sure he'll rest," he assured Hibari. "You should probably release the illusion now Mukuro."
Mukuro scoffed and turned his head away. "I can do what I like, Vongola."
"You need to rest," Tsuna chided, frowning. "And you can't rest properly if you're holding up an illusion."
"I supported Chrome for years," Mukuro argued, hating the petulant tone his voice took. The pain medication was affecting even his control over himself more than he had realised if he couldn't even hide his emotions properly. "I never had a problem then."
"You were in Vendicare," Tsuna remind him, taking a step forward in agitation. "You didn't have second degree burns to heal."
"I'll be fine-"
"No, you won't!" Tsuna's voice cracked as it rose, eyes flickering gold for the briefest moment before he hung his head and his voice fell to barely more than a whisper. "You could have died. Both of you. I spent almost twenty minutes thinking you were dead, and two days wondering when - if - you would ever wake up. So please," he begged, gaze rising once more to lock with Mukuro's, his eyes reflecting his anguish and fear. "Please just rest, Mukuro. I couldn't stand to lose either of you."
Mukuro just stared for a moment, taking in the watery eyes, the fierce, heartbreaking expression and the fingers that were white where they twisted together anxiously, then finally sighed. "Fine. I'll rest, Vongola. Don't expect me to stay here a second longer than necessary though."
The smile that lit Sawada's face was almost ridiculously bright. He bustled over, fussing with the blankets on first Mukuro's bed then Hibari's, and when he was apparently satisfied he stopped between them, grinning ear to ear. "Rest, both of you. I'll come back to visit in the morning. The doctors might even let more people in."
"No crow'ing," came from Hibari's side of the room, and Mukuro let his illusion-voice laugh.
"I don't think you're in any state to be biting anyone even if they did crowd, birdy."
"Mukuro..." Sawada scolded. The illusionist huffed, annoyed at being told off by the Vongola brat, but he let the illusion of his trident go all the same. His pain medication, whatever it was, was pulling him down into unconsciousness again and he was having a hard time caring what about being antagonistic anymore.
The sound of footsteps receding made Mukuro realise he had closed his eyes. An soft, "Sleep well," drifted across the room and then the door was opening and shutting as Sawada left and Mukuro felt a small smile twist his lips. It hurt, but whatever.
"Good nigh', birdy," Mukuro drawled, his own voice thin.
"Sleep," came the terse response.
"Di'n't know you cared," Mukuro shot back, the sarcasm weakened by the slurring. "Maybe you shoul' change professions."
Mukuro didn't even need to call on his trident to conjure a bright red and white Santa hat, guessing where it should fall and feeling vindicated by the growl he got in return. He didn't get a chance to reply though, as the darkness finally claimed him and he slept once again.
On the other side of the door, Tsuna smiled contentedly as he heard silence fall. For the first time in a long while his thoughts calmed, no longer the maelstrom of worry they had been for the last few weeks, and for a second his mind flashed with the familiar heat of his Intuition.
As he left, an image of his family playing a game some ten years from then, everyone paired up with Hibari and Mukuro smashing everyone else, drifted through his mind and he feltthe future, hope and joy and love and laughter echoing through the years, reassuring him. They were two of his closest friends, even if they would never admit it themselves, and he was glad for them.
Because even if they now they were like two vultures squabbling over a scrap of meat, he knew they would learn how to get along. They would learn how to share the sky - the owl at night and the skylark in the day - and they would come to dance through the sky together, supporting each other and filling in where the other couldn't. Sometimes they would clash and sometimes they would fight, that was inevitable, but the sky would always bring them back because it was only in the sky that they could be not only free, but also never alone.