Title: The Laughing Matter
Author: Ri-Ryn
Genre: Angst/Horror/Family
Word Count: 1,328
Rating: M* (Content suitable for Mature Teens) / +T
Disclaimer: Katekyo Hitman Reborn belongs to Akira Amano.
Summary: Lanchia loved his family and for years was unable to comprehend as to why Mukuro would slaughter them. Mukuro couldn't think anything of his question but that it had to be rhetorical, because it wasn't anything but a sick joke.
Warnings: Mentions of blood, violence, and cursing.
A/N: *I have a NEW poll up on my page that any fans of my story "Sky Sin" should check out. On or in any other news, progress for 'Getting Away with Murder' and 'Infrazione della Vita' is going well! Also, I need to update 'Define: Us' and 'Black Cherries'. Thank-you for being patient, this is a treat/teaser for anyone wondering if I'm still alive and kicking! Wow, that ending scene is pretty sick when you think about Tsuna and Mukuro's mindset by the end of it. Did anyone catch it?
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It was an accident. Lanchia was no fool; he had entangled himself with the devil once, so running into Mukuro in one of the darker, less traversed corridors of the Vongola estate wasn't planned. He had already lost almost everything there was to lose, perhaps he couldn't hold back anymore- this being their first meeting since his…family took in this monster.
The two had locked eyes briefly, the demon's own orbs revealing nothing while his own flared at his image in pain, hate, and naivety.
He really shouldn't have asked. But that wouldn't have been fair to Mukuro: nothing ever was.
"Why?" The strongest man in Northern Italy grasped at words floating in his muddled mind, years of questions surfacing with a common factor. "They took you in so why did you, no, why did you make me slaughter them.
How could you live with yourself after murdering them!? I, they, cared for you!"
Mukuro slowly blinked. "Pfft…" Was this man stupid? Honestly, unable to think, how did he function? He knew for fact humans were born with a brain, but it was rarely used it would seem.
"Kufufufu…" Mukuro glared sharply at the other man in abhorrence. "That had better be a joke, Lanchia."
The taller man drew in his lips, half snarling and looking every bit his title. "You think human lives are a joke?!"
The illusionist, while finding many things amusing, did not find this as such. It was funny enough he could stick his hand down the others throat to watch in hate as the other puked onto the ground, not caring one bit where it splattered and taking little notice of the blood his nails drew from scratching down the inside of the others esophagus.
Mukuro blinked, Lancia seemed to have found a chord that was unpleasant when strummed within him. He crouched with his arms on knees and tilted his head, observing. Vomit and blood covered the man's front and the stench did nothing, the sight did nothing to faze him. Why should it when it wasn't anything new?
"Of course, but they're far from funny." An ungloved hand reached forward to yank the drooping head up to meet each other eye-to-eye. Just because he didn't use him anymore didn't mean Mukuro didn't have control of the other still, a reason Lanchia found him-self acutely aware of when he had no control of his body after sinking to the floor.
Seeing the unending displeasure displayed by the other, Mukuro chuckled again, taking his other hand and scratched across the cornea of the other's right eye the kanji for four in crescent shapes with his nail, seeing the former strongest man squirm and unable to take action. "Hello, hello, it looks like someone only knows how to believe in a damn lie, kufufu…"
The mist user snapped and Mukuro slammed the others head into the wall before standing up with a condescending gaze. "Don't fuck with me."
Lanchia sensed mist flames dissipating as the long haired male lifted his shirt, showing the blurring skin directly above the illusionist's left hip bone before a family crest of black ink screamed at him, standing proud and tainted against the taught pale skin.
A crest, a family crest, Lanchia's Family crest was tattooed into Mukuro's skin, stretched out meaning Mukuro had grown with it. This tattoo-
"Was placed on me, as a brand," Mukuro finished for him coldly, "by that precious dead family of yours after they took me in as child." The younger male slammed a steal toed boot into the rib cage of the others, allowing him a grunt and asking a single question before he relinquished control of the other's speech. "Now why would such kind people need to do that?"
No, no, no, no, no… A single water droplet trailed down Lancia's own tattooed face. "They wouldn't…"
"Don't prolong it." Mukuro muttered. "Ownership." Property: a tool to be used. Never charity.
Then- realization dawned in Lanchia's facial expression. "Every month…"
The Vongola mist guardian smiled bitterly. "Were my meetings to discuss my renewed arrangement of housing there with Chikusa and Ken. There wasn't any way your filthy family was touching my pawns nor letting me stay for free… Anything they needed: control, money, a person out of the way, an improbable incentive even."
The same bullet used on him by Mukuro his family made Mukuro use on others.
He was protecting Ken, Chikusa, and himself from the family who took them in because they were collecting the bounty of the Estraneo family's death.
"Ah," a long pony tail was flipped over a shoulder carelessly as the 25-year old bent down to eye level again. "You get who the real demons are, don't you? The only reason you're alive is because you were blissfully ignorant."
The bluenette glowered. "And now, because you dared bring it up, I'm not so forgiving. You never realized how precious life was until I came along." The man sneered, spoiling his beautiful face into something twisted, "There's another sick joke."
A trident materialized, in the man's black orbs the steel prongs were reflected as Mukuro stared down emotionlessly.
"I..m…s…orry." The raven haired man smiled sadly as the single path was dampened on last time on his face.
"I know."
That was as close to forgiveness as Lanchia was going to get and more than he deserved for the pain his ignorance, his lack of knowledge must have caused the other- being one of the only people from the young man's past that he remotely cared abhor him. He could only be thankful Mukuro had met the young Vongola Decimo because of his Family, even if it was but a small compensation.
Death was swift, painless. Mukuro did forgive him, because passing was a surreal luxury he doubted Mukuro was granted, him or any of the other children who died.
"Mukuro?" It wasn't strange for the mist to silently enter his office, never say a word, and then leave. But this was the first time that he, while reading a book on the long couch, had the mist enter and lay his head on the brunettes' lap.
"Hm?" The tall guardian mumbled while he buried his face further into Tsuna's lap, tired, worn out, unhappy.
The boss hesitated before gently placing a soothing hand in the silky, midnight blue tresses and stroking the man's head in a comforting manner befitting a mother. "Is everything-?"
"Do I understand the value of human life? Do others?"
Tsuna paused, unsure of how to approach answering and tempted to ask what prompted this, in the end deciding against. "I think…" Tsuna stopped, garnering a half open eye to stare at him from the side, a very fragile ruby hue.
"You do, because there are three parts to understanding the value of it. You've taken life and understood the consequence of it, what it meant to do so."
Lancia, the Estraneo, Lancia's family, members of the Mafia, others…
"But you know the value of giving/protecting it, too."
Lanchia, Chrome, Ken, Chikusa, M.M., … Tsunayoshi.
"And you know the value of your own life, that it's a blessing worth living with every fiber of you being no matter how difficult, impossible, and horrid."
The experiments, the fighting, the killing, the escape, the run, the people, family- his freedom.
Tsuna brushed the bangs out of the older male's facing bending down to put a loving kiss to his temple and smiling at his important, irreplaceable family member. "You know life's blessing and trials, I think you understand better than anyone else its value and the role you play in others' lives."
But never as well as you, Tsuna. Mukuro closed his eye, breathing in deeply before out softly, feeling warm, safe, sad, but no regret in the familial embrace of the person he should kill, despise the most.
It felt like loving, unconditional acceptance.
Thank…you…Lanchia…and Tsuna.
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FIN