In the End
Chapter 8
This chapter isn't edited in any way, shape, or form. Pls tell me if you see a mistake, and I'll try to get to it when/if I ever have the energy to do anything lmao
Warnings: General violence. Implied body horror and past experimentation. Filler-ish. Rushed writing.
A/N: I updated a story TWICE in ONE YEAR? Who am I? *stares at my hands* lololol I still have no real idea what I'm doing with this story, though I wanted to introduce Fon in this chapter. I had to cut that part out cause it was unfinished, and would have probably left this chapter on yet another cliffhanger. Next chapter will have Fon.
And most definitely the Varia.
Sorry if this chapter feels a bit short, but an update is an update! I get too caught up on word count than the actual chapter at times, and that really prolongs my update schedule. And I really do want to start updating a lot more, haha.
Also, for the question of pairings: if any, Harry will be paired with an established adult character. So that immediately crosses out Kyoya, and any other teenagers. Harry might have the looks of a teenager, but he is around 18 and not counting the ten years he's been a ghostie-goo; not to mention, the power dynamics of such relationships would be kinda weird. If ya'll want pairings, ya'll are free to go request something on my tumblr and I'll do prompts over there, lmao
That being said, I hope you enjoy!
"No."
"How rude. Are you not even going to entertain the thought of listening to me-"
"Absolutely not. No." Harry interrupted Mukuro plainly, watching as the teen simply smiled and tilted his head invitingly. His eyes crinkled in a playful way, and it was almost genuine if there wasn't something dark and irritating lurking in his heterochromatic eyes.
"Interrupting others is rather unbecoming," Mukuro replied. He tapped a staccato tune against his jawline with a finger idly, gaze lingering on Harry. Harry cast a glance around the empty train station, wondering if there was a way to wake up from this place.
"I don't even want to see you in real life, so I don't know why you'd think it'd be okay to meet me in my dreams," Harry complained, standing stock-still. Finding no obvious way out, Harry resigned himself to this uncomfortable meeting for the time being. "And couldn't it be any place other than this place?" He gestured around listlessly, because it felt almost-
Disturbing the peace, or something.
The last time Harry had seriously been here was when he died and met with Dumbledore. And then- everything was blurry after that, he had to make a choice. And that's it, all he could remember was that. The second time he had been here was with Mukuro, and his revelation.
Coming here was not going to become a habit, Harry was going to be making sure of that.
"Is this not to your liking, Master of Death?" Mukuro's words were languid, smooth from his mouth. His smile widened, and he sat up straighter, hands gripping before smoothing out against the flat plane of the bench he was sitting on. His touch disintegrated everything into a fine dark blue mist, and Harry fidgeted as the world around them became blurry around the edge and shifted into mist.
Mukuro was dangerous, no doubt. Illusions and altering reality, trickery of the mind- all very dangerous when one was unsuspecting of them, and Harry was sick of it all. He nearly recounted all the times when Snape and Voldemort were in his head, taunting words and searing pain. The utter helplessness to stop it.
The mist smeared the world around them until it settled into an empty field, surrounded by wilderness and trees. A looming sky stained red with a rising sun seemed endless above them, illuminating the field with weeds and broken bits of civilisation. It seemed rather ominous, and mysterious, with the mist that never left making its home in between the cracked crevices. The whole atmosphere gave Harry chills, feeling as if he was witnessing something he shouldn't be seeing.
Mukuro surveyed the world he created with a blank expression, head tilted. He seemed to be entranced by a spider web that was dripping with dew, glinting in the rising light. Harry took in his features, and briefly recalled his meeting with Tom Riddle in his 2nd year. A youthful face with eyes so dark, and Harry was so young and naive and couldn't really comprehend the person behind Voldemort.
Harry could now.
Not that Mukuro was Voldemort, Harry reminded himself. He flinched when Mukuro's eyes suddenly slid towards him, mouth quirking up into a smile. "Are you in the mood to listen now?" He mocked with an incredibly indulgent laugh, as if Harry was a child throwing a tantrum.
"You're acting as if you care," Harry snapped back, half-heartedly. He closed some of the distance between them, leaning against a nearby tree as Mukuro settled himself on a large piece of rubble. This place was flattened, though Harry could see remnants of a foundation here and there. Where was this place?
"I want you to do something." Mukuro leaned forward, head propped up in a hand.
Harry raised an eyebrow. "I'm sure you do," he replied, fingers twitching for a wand. "What's in it for me? And what would a world-dominating wannabe want from me?" Any type of capricious indulgence dropped from Mukuro's expression, his face becoming a blank slate.
The air become colder around them.
"First things first," Mukuro stated, cold. "I'm not nice, and I'm not really patient either, so you might want to watch your tongue or I'll rip it out of your filthy fucking mouth and feed it back to you." All of this was said in his silky smooth voice that was devoid of any attachment, the words coming out as a fact rather than a promise.
Harry tasted blood and coagulating flesh in his mouth, feeling something worm under his skin.
Instead of fear or anger, Harry couldn't help but feel slightly piteous towards him. Okay, a bit of a lie there- he was mildly unsettled, though anyone would be in the face of a dangerous individual like Mukuro. It was like gazing into a gaping maw of jagged and broken glass, pieces of children hurt beyond imagination for reasons out of their control that turned all of that into desperate anger.
Mukuro's lackeys did say something about mafia experimentation.
So- like with Voldemort, all Harry felt was tired and sad for the person before him. Nonetheless, people failed by the world was nothing new and that doesn't excuse the hurt they caused, as much as Harry's empathy ached to do so. As someone who was forced to make hard choices all his life, Harry wouldn't stop doing so now.
"I'm not someone you can boss around, Mukuro," Harry replied, ignoring the rot in his mouth and under his skin. It wasn't his experience, and Harry had a horrible feeling it might have been Mukuro's. He willed his magic to the surface, always at his beck and call, and though he had no focus for it- it melted the chills and maggots away for Harry to think clearly. "I'll treat you how you treat me. And as you said, you haven't exactly been nice."
Kyoya had broken 81 bones in total, with a fractured skull that led to a concussion that had him bedridden for 10 days, as well as a torn achilles ligament. And that was before he went for round 2 with Mukuro. He has seen and heard about the teeth pulling, and the casual cruelty the boy desired for the world, and the trauma that the children around him were still suffering.
Yamamoto sometimes twitched and his hands would drift to his neck, frowning and frowning because he, "still feels weird, haha". Harry could relate to that somewhat, often getting lost in his own head and having no real way to come back- he offered a distraction to the other younger teen, and that would have to do until Harry could find some way to help.
If he could.
Was he even qualified to help others in his state? Harry pushed the thoughts aside as the tense silence was broken with a quiet laugh. Mukuro's eyes crinkled in mean amusement, covering his mouth with his hand. "Kufufufufu- you truly are interesting," he complimented, making it feel anything but. "I guess we'll have to work on our impasse, but I do want you to do something."
"And what do I get from it?" Harry just wanted a nap, and instead got this. Could he take a nap within his nap?
"As a quid pro quo," Mukuro hummed. His growing smile was sly, as if he knew Harry was going to accept and Harry was just tired. "Aren't you curious about the world you find yourself in, Master of Death? About the fire, about the mafia?" Harry narrowed his eyes slightly, an unhappy frown on his face. Of course he was curious about that, but he was sure he could dig up information on that on his own.
Harry was about to open his mouth to tell him so when Mukuro hummed again, keeping him quiet.
"What about the Arcobaleno curse?"
The curse-
Fuck. Harry dragged a hand down his face, pausing to rub at his eyes. As stubborn as he wanted to be, that would be detrimental wouldn't it? Hermione would take any chance to learn, no matter the cost- the thought of his friend made him ache, and Harry gritted his teeth. He'll need to learn more about this world, and these weird Flames were the key.
And maybe one day he might-
Harry released a deep breath, meeting Mukuro's eyes.
"What do you want from me?"
-0-0-0-
Mukuro's smug visage made Harry want to hex him, though any irritation gave way to surprise when he learned about the favor he wanted him to do.
-0-0-0-
Harry thought he was done with the hospitals, at least for a while.
Especially a hospital in Ikebukuro, after an early and hellish commute. Harry never had Kyoya's utter disdain for crowds, but after so many years with numb sensations and people ignoring him- the crowd gave him hives, his ears ringing from the noise, and his skin felt itchy at his paranoia of people staring at him. He felt too hot and too cold in turn, absently rolling and unrolling his sleeves as he stood at the receptionist desk as she clicked and checked through files on her clunky computer.
At last, she hummed. "I see you have recently been registered as her guardian," the surprise did nothing to help Harry's mood, and he grunted in response. The receptionist didn't seem to mind, double-checking something before reaching over to grab a sticky pad and a pen. After a moment, she handed him a room and floor number with a plastic smile. "I apologize for the wait, and I hope you have a nice morning," she chirped.
"You too," Harry thumbed the note idly as he stiffly strode across the spacious and almost empty hospital corridor towards the stairs. An elevator was too stuffy for him, he could never stand the things. As he huffed his way up the stairs, he nervously tried to flatten his hair and straighten his clothing just a bit.
First impressions were important, after all. Harry emerged on the 5th floor, which was actually the 4th floor but due to superstition- it was the 5th. He headed towards the wide-tabled nurse's station, gathering the attention of those standing there.
"Hello, I'm here for- Nagi," Harry tilted his head forward in acknowledgement. "I wish to take her home," he needed to sign discharge papers, and they'd be able to leave- it seemed simple enough, but the looks the nurses were giving him suggested otherwise.
They seemed downright loathing.
"You're here for Nagi-chan, right?" The nurse he mostly addressed questioned, giving him a severe look-over. "Are you her step-father?" Harry froze at the question, mind scrambling for a quick answer. "I'll have you know a social worker is scheduled to visit later, so your presence is unneeded-"
"Wait, wait," Harry stumbled to say. "I'm not her parents- I'm, uh, her uncle," he admitted, rubbing a nervous hand through his hair again. The two nurses at the table gave him a disbelieving look. He sighed, trying to remember what Mukuro said about the girl he was supposed to pick up.
"Careful with her, she is fragile. I don't want her breaking so soon."
The words were creepy, and Harry was starting to dislike the teen even more. Even so, he mulled over the words. Fragile, huh? The distrust the nurses were giving him, thinking he was the parents- pieces he didn't want to connect were in his hands, and Harry felt bitter.
"Her mother signed custody over to me a few days ago, and we've been estranged ever since she moved out," Harry found himself saying, swallowing. He thought of his own childhood stuffed in a closet, abused and neglected in ways that he was still dealing with. "I- just got out of high school, and- if I could, I would have done something sooner."
Lying was seeped in bitter defeat and tasted too much like blood clenched between his teeth, Harry wasn't used to it. Nor did he want to be, having been surrounded by lies and concealed truths all his life.
His testimony gave him some sympathy, at least. The nurse hummed in understanding, hard look melting into something softer. "I see- you are quite young. My apologies, but her parents hardly visited, and the one time her mother did-," she shook her head, and turned to the computer on the desk. "Why don't you go catch up with her, Kuro-kun? I'll bring the discharge papers in 15 minutes."
Harry nodded his thanks and glanced at the sticky note in his hand, his sweaty palms smearing the ink. Room 9. The door was cracked open slightly, and Harry hesitated briefly. He knocked, and waited for a few moments before he heard a too quiet murmur- he hoped it was a positive, and walked in, the dark room illuminated by nudged-open curtains and letting the morning sun bathe everything yellow.
The girl was hunched on her bed, knees drawn up and blanket wrapped around her. Her one eye was wide and staring at him, breathing slowly coming to an almost stop- Harry felt sympathy nudge a lump in his throat, because he recognized the tactic of becoming small, to not be noticed.
"Hello, Nagi- my name is Kuro Harry," what a botched name, Harry bemoaned. His forged documents left something to be desired, but Potter was too distinct and Harry looked basic enough to be considered mixed descent. "I'm here to take you to Namimori."
The girl straightened at his voice, blinking at him. Her expression was awfully timid, and she chewed her lip, eyes never quite meeting his and Harry had a hard time meeting hers, for some reason. It was like his attention was being bounced away from her, each time he tried to focus fully on her.
It was similar to a notice-me-not charm, and Harry wondered if that was her Mist flames at work.
The girl spoke, quiet.
"C- Chrome. Dokuro Chrome, not Nagi." Despite the timid and quiet voice, there was a determined lick to her words. Like an ember, almost catching fire to ignite into something more. Harry hummed in acknowledgement.
A new name, huh?
"Of course, Chrome-chan."
The small and shy smile that emerged afterwards was sweet. Harry briefly worried about how she got caught up with the likes of Mukuro, and Mukuro's interest in her.
-0-0-0-
Harry grunted as Chrome accidentally bumped into him, the train platform crammed with people. He had stopped at what he assumed was the correct platform near a long line of other people, though he guessed he did it a bit suddenly.
"Oh- are you okay?" Harry questioned, turning slightly to observe the girl. She was dressed in cheap sweats, bangs covering her face. She seemed overwhelmed and Harry was making sure to keep an eye on her.
The girl fidgeted, gaze firmly on her shoes.
"I'm sorry," she stuttered, voice soft as if she was trying hard to not be heard. Fragile, like spiderwebbed glass on the verge of breaking. Harry blinked away the fog in his mind, trying to keep her in focus and frowned a bit.
Hm.
"It's alright," Harry replied, keeping his voice gentle and firm. He checked the train schedule again idly. "Also, it's alright to ask questions if you're curious, you're traveling too. And riding on trains is hell, so if you're uncomfortable, just tell me, and I'll try to make it more bearable."
"It's alright, you don't need to," Chrome hunched her shoulders a bit.
"I want to." Harry assured.
Chrome had nothing to say to this, head still hanging down. The only true time she showed a will was when Mukuro came up, and he wondered what their relationship was. She seemed dependent on him, and he seemed insistent on her-
In either cases, it was deeply disturbing.
They had stopped briefly at a cafe before heading to wait for a train to the nearest town, then they'll have to change trains to be able to get to Namimori. After that, they would have to walk through the entirety of the town to reach the opposite outskirts of Namimori to reach Koyuko Land- honestly, apparating would be simpler. But Harry wasn't confident just yet, especially with another person with a currently weak disposition such as Chrome.
It wouldn't do to splice an arm off or two.
As he expected, the ride back towards Namimori was quiet and awkward. Harry tried his best to be accommodating, but after years with Kyoya, his social skills were a bit stilted. Chrome was just- quiet. Quiet and unassuming, eye firmly downwards.
The long ride back was followed with an exhausting commute across a large town, and they'd had to walk. Harry made sure they stopped often, much to Chrome's fluster. The layout of Kokuyo Land was still fresh in Harry's mind, and he eyed his battered surroundings and remembered the adventure he had here with both Kyoya and Tsuna's little gaggle of friends.
As they entered the place where the main climax happened, Harry immediately ducked as Chrome gasped and side-stepped, staggering slightly. The body that was thrown at them scrambled up and around, and the golden-haired teen sneered at them with bared teeth.
Ken, at least that's what Harry thought his name was. Ken and Chikusa, Mukuro's subordinates.
"You!" Ken snarled, flexing his fingers and crouching low. "What are you doing here?"
Harry gave him an unimpressed brow, even as he turned to make sure Chrome was alright. Chrome had straightened up and was staring at the blond with a wide-eye, mouth parted in recognition. Of course, Mukuro must have mentioned something about this whole event to everyone involved.
Right?
He would kill Mukuro himself with a wooden spoon if the teen left him to deal with it on his own, and act as a middleman.
"I was supposed to help Chrome-chan here," Harry supplied bluntly. Chrome swallowed and nodded, before freezing completely when Ken swung his hostile glare onto her. "Don't tell me you didn't know," he continued in hopes of diverting attention away from the timid girl.
"Of course I know! Mukuro-sama mentioned it," Ken seemed affronted, and Harry inwardly wilted with relief. "But he just said that she was coming. He didn't mention anything about you," the teen continued with a sneer, stalking closer.
Harry idly thumbed the custom-made wand holster Kyoya and him designed, made out of a modified wrist strap sheath. It took a bit to get used to, and often kept his arm stiffer than normal, but Harry was always comforted by the wood pressed against his skin.
"That's not my problem," Harry said tersely.
"Mukuro-sama tells us only what we need to know," a monotone voice commented, and Harry watched out of the corner of his eye as another teen melted from the shadows. It was the yo-yo guy- Chikusa. He was a tall teen with a hunched posture, a knitted beanie crammed over his head. His eyes were dark behind his glinting glasses, and he was staring blankly at Harry. "If you did your duty, you can scram now."
Fuckin' brats.
Harry pushed Ken's face away from his, frowning. "Not until I make sure Chrome gets to where she needs to go." While he was at the so-called 'drop off' spot, Harry decided it couldn't hurt to make sure Chrome made it safely to where they were really staying.
"You're here."
"What."
Here? In the abandoned Kokuyo theme park? Here?
Harry glanced around at the decaying building around them, with rotting wood and the smell of mold almost cloying. His gaze rested on a fidgety Chrome, with frail shoulders and almost no internal organs of her own. Oh, for fuck's sake-
"What?" Ken snarled, stomping towards him only to skitter a bit to stalk around him. Menacingly. Harry sighed, resisting the urge to reach up to rub his temples.
"This place is gross." Harry delivered bluntly, causing Ken to rear back in offense. Though if he was actually offended about his statement or if he was doing it out of reflex was beyond Harry's caring, as he continued. "It's rotting and decaying and dirty. Chrome isn't staying here."
Chrome, at this, jerked a bit and blinked a wide eye at him. "B-but Mukuro-sama-"
"Is not here." Harry interrupted before wincing slightly, seeing Chrome flinch and jerk her head downwards. Ah- damn. "Look," he continued more gently, more aimed at Chrome than the two teens. Ken was growling low in his throat, and he could feel the stoic yet threatening stare of the yo-yo one; he ignored them. "You just got out of the hospital, Chrome. Your immune system might not be up to speed just yet, especially in a place like this," at this, Harry pointedly glanced at a pile of strewn wood and moldy cloth that was pushed to the side.
"If Mukuro-sama said to bring her here, then she's staying here," the yo-yo teen insisted, though his voice was quite plain. The look in his eyes were dark, though, his glasses glinting unevenly in the dim lighting.
"And what if she gets sick?" Harry countered back. Ken snarled wordlessly, gnashing his teeth in agitation. The argument would have mounted some more, Harry was sure-
If a loud growling didn't interrupt, and Ken bent over with a harsh shudder.
Harry was somewhat alarmed, and he shared a quick glance with Chrome. After a moment, Harry came to a conclusion and sighed. He rubbed his temples, and glanced at a red-faced Ken and still blank-faced Chikusa.
"I'll buy you all food if you at least hear me out," Harry offered, awkwardly. He wasn't a charmer by any means but if he could at least impart the importance of a clean place to live that had enough electricity for a microwave, he'd be satisfied. Ken bared his teeth at him, before looking at Chikusa.
Chikusa, the apparent deciding factor here, sighed and pushed up his glasses with his index finger. His threatening yo-yos were gone. His voice was bland as ever.
"Whatever."
-0-0-0-
"Where have you been."
"Hell." Harry muttered as he pushed his way past Kyoya into the DC room, collapsing with a groan onto his couch. He curled up on himself, smothering his face into the cushions and maybe he'll smother himself to death. "Hell, hell, hell."
Hell in the name of Chikusa and his passive-aggressive comments.
Hell in the name of Ken, who was anything but passive in both his comments and actions.
Hell in the name of Mukuro, who he was blaming for everything despite Harry agreeing to do so in the first place.
Chrome did nothing wrong, and was by-far Harry's favorite of the whole bunch. The only thing Harry was worried about was her demeanor and self-esteem, which was lower than the great canyon. Which, considering her parents and the horrible hints of her past-
Made terrible sense. It still filled Harry with a sense of embittered compassion and sympathy.
He'll- work on it with her.
Somehow.
The teens have agreed to stay in a suite that both Harry and Chrome had to charm the receptionist into. Harry will have to visit on a weekly basis to keep up the charade, due to their stunning lack of money- Harry made sure the hotel was not on Kyoya's favorite patrol route, and in the Kokuyo district.
Kyoya's silence was demanding, a bit of bloodlust emerging and flicking from him. Harry groaned, done with bloodthirsty teens and unfortunate circumstances. "I decided to visit Ikebukuro. It was- crowded," Harry mixed truths, and Kyoya settled a bit, though still frowning.
"Why?"
"I don't know- just to get out of Namimori for a bit? I've been stuck here a long time," Harry explained glumly. He did want to get out of Namimori, though not the way he wanted. And he knew better than to just casually bring up Mukuro to him. "Just to stretch my legs a bit, I suppose." Harry flipped himself over on his back, squinting up at the familiar DC room ceiling.
While there was comfort in familiarity, Harry was growing restless.
Has been restless for the longest time.
Kyoya was quiet at this revelation, tilting his head in that creepy and ominous way of his. At last, he grunted and returned to his paperwork, dismissing everything and Harry sighed in relief. He closed his eyes to rest a bit, and maybe willingly go on Kyoya on his upcoming patrol.
The day away from Kyoya was a great exercise in distancing, he had to admit he missed the younger teen's company. Especially when compared to the Kokuyo gang.
Review, favorite, follow, or whatever you do on stories that you read!
Sorry if any of the characters are OOC- my brain is mush, and while I did rewatch KHR this past summer, my hyperfixation turned to Among Us and I've been busy with an internship, lmao
See ya'!
-mms