Sawada Tsunako, first year student at Kokuyo High. She was small, shy, cute, not smart but intuitive, not brave but loyal, not innocent but angelic – the little ways of describing her. She was usually identified for her messy head of thick, springy copper locks that swept down her spine to the small of her back. If not that, then her caramel eyes were usually unforgettable, how expressive and wide they were.

Men could recall her by her blush and pretty, untouchable mouth.

Women recalled her by her timid kindness.

"Hey, you're Mukuro-kun's girlfriend!" A girl stuck a pose in front of her desk, glaring down at her like she was shit stuck to the bottom of her shoe.

Tsunako flushed and tilted her head down. "Yeah…" 'Please', she begged within herself, 'please don't look at me like that.'

Sawada Tsunako, in every second that she had to attend school, wished over and over again that she could make other people disappear with a thought. She was too kind to actually say so or entertain the thought for long, but it was always there like a black stain on her white robe. She couldn't help it.

The boys who attended Namimori were always trying to talk her into doing bad things with them. Knowing that she was already in a relationship, they would try to feed her lies of how much they liked her or they would flatter her and get her cheap gifts (but only after saying that they cost an arm and a leg), all in an attempt to get her to have sex with them. There had been three grievances where she had been cornered by gangs of guys she had known and had just barely gotten away from with her virtue intact.

But, for all that, the girls were easily worse. Because Tsunako unintentionally attracted their boyfriends or was cuter than them in whatever way they perceived, they tried their hardest to make her life a living hell.

Like burning her school uniform while she was in gym class – or carving curse words and revolting names into her desk when she was out of the room. They threw things at her and said things behind her back about how much of a whore she was and they would try to estimate just how many diseases she had and how many guys she had screwed. In Biology, they made continuous efforts to lock her in the classroom alone with her homeroom sensei, Birds-Sensei, who was less than subtle about his desires to spread Tsunako across his desk and hurt her. No, he made it less than subtle; more than once, he had masturbated under the desk while staring at her, the vulgar sounds of him jacking off making her want to vomit.

And there were so many other ways that they tried to make her life hell – like how they once tried to push her into an oven during culinary class. Or when they had chased her up trees and kept her there overnight. One of their favorite games to play was How Many Cars Can Tsunako Dodge Before She Gets Run Over? The answer, luckily for Tsunako (or was it unluckily? Every time she was forced to participate, she became more and more willing to stand still and just wait and see), was so far unknown.

So wasn't it okay that she had bad thoughts about other people?

Especially girls who walked up to her and opened a conversation what that question, that same question every time, like Tsunako wasn't even her own person but an object that belonged to another.

"I don't get it." The girl tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Why would Mukuro-kun want something plain and ugly like you over me?" With another cutesy tilt of her head, she shrugged and pursed her lips. "Maybe you really do have escort-like skills. Something has to keep him running back to you!"

Then, her duty as a tormentor obviously completed if not overdone, she skipped away. Literally skipped away.

Tsunako watched her leave, hands clenched tightly in her skirt.

By now, she really should be used to the bullying. It wasn't like these people were worth listening to o-or reacting to. No, that would m-make them happy… To s-see her upset.

She furiously rubbed her sleeve across her face. Damn them, she'd never done anything wrong to them!

~::~

Halfway down the corridor, she was jerked to a stop by hands on her skirt right before the material was viciously ripped off her hips and left to drift around her ankles.

She stopped breathing as teenagers who had had not been paying her any mind turned to look at her, a sea of eyes swarming to stare at the poor little girl in her white undies.

The same guy who had disarmed her brought a hand back and slapped it hard against her ass. "Tsuna-chan, can't you ever keep your skirt on?"

She was laughed at… So many people, so loud, so hard, so deafening, and evil grins and wicked eyes warped and twirled and twisted into one monstrous being of a hundred ill wills.

Tsunako dropped her books and tried to lift her skirt back up, tried so hard, but another teenager had planted his foot on them and she tripped forward, sprawling across the cold, dirty floor and – and –

She refused to cry.

But no one would ever know just how much strength it took to hold back her tears. She bit the inside of her cheek as a hand tangled in her hair and wrenched her head back.

"Hey, Tsuna-chan, while you're down there, why don't you help me out with a problem of mine? Don't worry, it's the kind you're good at taking care of!"

A blur flew out of the ranks of green uniforms and tackled the three guys standing over her – the one that had ripped off her skirt, the second that had stepped on it, and the third that had just been speaking. Where they had been, bloody, slashed things took their places on the floor as her savior turned chilling heterochromic eyes on all the people who had only stood back and watched her get hurt.

Suddenly, all of those demonic leers that had stared down at her, laughed at her, were looking away.

Tsuna shakily sat back on her scuffed knees, shivering and hurt. Her hero wordlessly offered her a gloved hand and she took it as his other came out and picked up her discarded, ruined skirt, the seam ripped and zipper broken.

As silent as the grave, he shouldered off his jacket and wrapped it around her, buttoning up the front. It swamped her, hanging halfway down her thighs, and the warm, damp smell of flowers and mist, so familiar to her, soothed her nerves just the slightest bit. He swung her into his arms like a fairy tale princess and squeezed her to his chest, tucking her face against his heart gently, with so much care it was hard to believe that the man cradling her was also the man holding the corridor in thick terror with just the power of his glower alone.

"R-Rok-k …"

He hushed her gently and stroked his fingers down her cheek.

Every teenager gathered was left to fear what their fates would be as her savior turned on his heel and walked away down the corridor, bodies pressing themselves against the walls as he passed like Moses and the Red Sea.

They left in silence. Were followed by silence.

That silence lasted long after they exited school grounds.

~::~

"Scumbags like them don't bother listening to what others have to say," Her hero murmured. "They only listen to people they're afraid of."

Mukuro Rokudo, second year student at Kokuyo High. He was tall, handsome, incredibly intelligent, strategic, charming, not loyal to anyone but fearless, not purely evil but close.

Guys wanted to be like him.

Girls wanted to be with him.

And he was Tsunako's. Or, if the vast majority was to be believed, Tsunako belonged to him.

He gently bandaged her knees and then leaned down to press a kiss to them both. His thumbs feathered against her lower thighs.

"Oya ~ I would feel so much better if you would take another shower. You don't know how sticky their filth is once it gets on your skin."

She was still damp from the last three showers, skin berated slightly red from the constant scrubbing of a hand cloth. Tsunako worried the hem of the black bath robe Mukuro had lent her. "R-Rokudo…"

"Hm?"

"T-they were cut up badly…"

She meant her attackers, their limp, just barely living bodies bleeding on the floor. "Yes, they were." Mukuro took her hands in his gloved ones and brought her palms to his lips.

"But you weren't holding a-anything sharp."

"Hhmmm… How curious." He reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out a small pocket knife. "I can assure you that I had this on my person."

"O-oh…" She frowned. "Sorry, it's just that I, I thought it was weird."

"You were on the ground, being assaulted by garbage. You wouldn't have noticed something as small as this."

'Maybe he's right,' she thought to herself. 'But that doesn't look big enough to make those gashes. And I don't remember that being in his coat when he put it on me. He could have put it in his back pocket or something…'

She couldn't help feeling, though, that she was being lied to. She reached out for the pocket knife, only to have Mukuro draw it away. "I don't want you touching it… You see, it's covered in their filthy blood."

Now that he mentioned, it, she saw it. The grooved handle was stained and the blade was caked red. Funny how she hadn't noticed it a second ago. "I'm sorry that I'm asking such strange questions."

"It's alright, Tsu-kun. It's just because you're in shock over what happened." He pocketed the knife. "Your memory tends to get skewed when you can't think right."

She nodded and squeezed her eyes tightly shut. 'I can't believe they did that to me during school…'

He looked up at her, crouched as he was before her, and took her face between his hands. "You can cry now, Tsu-kun. No one's here to see it but me."

She bowed her head into his shoulder and he wrapped his arms around her as the floodgates open.

Their world – not the world in general, not Asia and America and the seas and the oceans and not Russia or Africa or Australia – but their small, two-person world, Tsunako and Mukuro membership only…

Drowned in her tears.

~::~

They called Tsunako a whore.

They called her one so often, she began to think that she was – that, maybe, she was secretly a slut. If that was the truth, then she shouldn't bother trying to refute them.

But she was still loyal. She was in a monogamous relationship with her boyfriend. It wasn't like she could go behind his back and start spreading her legs, even though a voice that sounded menacingly like her bullies at school said that that should be more than easy for her to do.

So she should be able to lie down on her back and let nature take its course. It sounded easy enough, just pretend to feel good even when there was no pleasure and then wait it out – or, at least, that's how the girls at school explained it to each other. They were never talking to her, as she should have known all of this because she was, again, a whore. But it was never hard to overhear their conversations.

Her mom always told her a different story. Blushing, hand to her cheek, ladle to her breast, Nana would go on and on about how good it felt to be with someone you loved, about how shy she had been the first time, about how Tsunako's dad, Iemitsu, had bee so gentle with her and how they had fit together like they had been made with each other in mind.

"I lost my virginity to your daddy, Tsunako! I plan on growing old, not letting any other man do the things he has done to me."

But her mom was one voice against dozens of others that said that sex wasn't a big deal – you had it with strangers in the back of cars while a video camera was rolling, so what? Nothing special. It wasn't like true love existed.

"You would know, wouldn't you, Tsuna-chan? I hear your cute little mouth is out for rent in the restroom!"

So she tried to be sexy about taking off her clothes as she kept her eyes to the ground and her shoulders slumped forward. Guys liked to know they were totally in control of their girl, so said the other Kokuyo students.

Get as far as showing interest and the men will take it from there.

There she was in Mukuro's small apartment… Proving all of those girls wrong as Mukuro stood from his bed and covered her with a blanket. He leaned down and kissed her oh-so softly, with so much gentleness and care, she thought she was going to break.

"Tsu-kun, what do you think you're doing?" Mukuro's one scarlet red, one azure blue eye studied her carefully through a drowsy haze. "Oya ~ your idea and my idea of sleeping together are two entirely different things, I'm seeing."

She shook. "I-I'm a virgin."

"Yes. I know. Kufufufufu ~ I think it's sexy, knowing that no one's touched you down there…"

Tsunako bit her bottom lip. "So why won't you touch me down there? Why won't you fuck me already, j-just get rid of it for me!"

"Now, now, what are you talking about?" He smoothed his hands up and down her arms.

"I'm a-already a w-w-whore, so why…" She gulped. "W-why won't you have sex w-with me? That's w-what we're supposed t-to do, right?"

He stared down at her for a very long time. Whatever he was thinking was hidden behind his duo-colored gaze and small, default grin that sent chills down her spine.

"No, we're not supposed to do anything. We'll do what we want when we want as we want to do it. If we want to wear purple top hats on our feet, then that's what we'll do." He picked her up, him and his fairy tale obsession of whisking away his beautiful princess (and she wondered just how long he would stay with her before going off to find that very special woman), and carried her to bed, tucking her in before sliding in beside her.

He wrapped her up in his arms and tucked her head beneath his chin. "And if we don't want to fuck or have sex any time soon, then we most certainly won't. Personally, I have these very vivid dreams of making long, passionate love to you on the bank of a sparkling lake…" She blushed darkly as his small grin grew into a lecherous smirk. "Your hair will fan out against the white picnic blanket and you'll look at me with those desperate, doe eyes of yours, so lost in pleasure that you'll forget that you're human and claw me –"

"HIIIEEE!" She clasped her hands over his mouth, blood pulsing in her ears as her body quivered with Mukuro's sweet threats. "I-I get it! You don't have to say anything else!"

His wicked leer turned soft in a second. His larger hands curved over hers and he pressed small kisses to her fingertips. "Oya ~ I can't remember the last time I heard you make that cutesy sound."

"W-what?"

"Your 'hiee' sound. It's so adorable, it makes me want to gobble you right up." He nuzzled her palms. "So sad, that I haven't found the perfect lake yet…"

She choked on her own spit and stuffed her face into the junction of his neck and shoulder, unsuccessfully hiding from his cooing laughter.

"Oh, and, Tsu-kun?"

"Y-yeah?"

"If I ever hear you call yourself a whore again, a kitten somewhere in the world will die. Preferably close to home."

"No!"

"It can't be helped." He stroked her back. "After all, even Mother Nature must try to get you to understand just how precious you are."

~::~

Mukuro could have made slaves of the student body. The fact that he chose not to and only kept a few friends endeared him to Tsunako. She couldn't help it – she would rather have few close friends that she could trust over having dozens of people who only cared for her as long as her back wasn't to them.

Ken was a wild boy, suntanned skin and untamable, tangled blonde hair, hazel eyes and a fanged grin – completely animalistic in manner to the point where he chased after cars and his best defense was to bite people he didn't like. He was energetic and puppy-dog-like, loyal without fault to Mukuro and impossible to understand.

Then there was Chikusa, who was Ken's exact opposite. The dead couldn't be as calm as he was, standing there silent as the reaper, watching the world go by without showing a single thought. He wore a white beanie and glasses that always seemed to catch a ray of light and hide his eyes. Occasionally, she saw him playing with a yo-yo.

She didn't like it when that yo-yo came out. She swore, every time it did, someone near Chikusa collapsed and was sent to the hospital.

There was also one of the sensei, Lancia-Sensei, who Mukuro always hung out with between classes. Lancia-Sensei was a scary-looking guy, but she always thought there was more to him. An underlying story as to why he always looked so tired or why she kept getting the urge to yell at him when he tried acting big and tough enough to send his own students to the nurse's office.

Now that she thought about it, M.M., the redheaded girl who took the most joy in torturing her, and Birds-Sensei appeared to be the next two people Mukuro would regularly talk to…

Hadn't they all arrived in her town the same year?

Before she could entertain the thought, a familiar voice barked at her to get moving.

"We're not going to stand here all day, nya! I'm hungryyyyyy!" Ken grabbed her by the scruff of her sweater and dragged her along while Chikusa followed quietly behind them. "You're paying for lunch, girl!"

She blinked up at Ken and he turned his face away, growling low in his throat at her. If she hadn't known any better, or at least learned earlier, she would have thought that he hated her.

Then she figured it out. Ken, big, bad, beast boy of Kokuyo – was secretly shy. She suspected that Chikusa was the same way. How could these tough, undefeatable men be so timid like her? Well, she had a theory.

Because they were tough and undefeatable. Who would want to spend time around people they feared would hurt them? Being alone didn't do any good for one's self-esteem, she would know.

So she smiled sheepishly and nodded. And was secretly happy that her mom gave her extra yen. "What do you two feel like eating?"