IN THE PREVIOUS CHAPTERS
People who used to have their own goals seems to be getting closer, forming bonds. How will this affect the future?
8.56a.m, the Pembroke Room.
There, in the bright and fancy European-inspired salon of her hotel, Bianchi was enjoying the very scarce sunlight of the season, her breakfast there on the table in front of her barely touched. The day, although quite cold and grey, was nice. The ginger head wasn't a big fan of summer so that mid-fall day was just perfect for her.
Moreover, the salon was splendid: the authentic period furniture was giving the whole place a character that could be found nowhere else; the scent of refined tea, of succulent European breakfast, but also of beautiful blooming flowers scattered all over the salon made it look like an unearthly place; and the calm, the quietness, the sensation that she actually wasn't in the middle of one of the most populated town in the world! Everything was just perfect.
It was the perfect place for isolating oneself from one's daily worries, and that's what Bianchi was doing… Or at least what she was trying to do.
For the seventh time only that day, the gorgeous young woman was done reading the same letter that hadn't left her since the moment she received it the same day.
Bianchi was pensive.
The content of that letter, she was pondering as her thin and elegant fingers scrapped the old and yellowed paper, if its content were to be revealed… Bianchi couldn't even imagine the commotion such a small and trivial thing would cause.
"Oh, Father, why did you have to burden me with this?" She whispered, the feeling of an impending headache lurking on her forehead.
The letter had arrived just a bit earlier that morning, as a highly recommended mail. A short note scribbled by her father following it, simply saying: 'You might find this useful in a near future.' Bianchi was quite surprised to learn that Jouji knew where she and her brother were staying since they didn't breathe a word about it back in Italy.
Yet, the letter had arrived, and Bianchi wished it had never. What was she supposed to do with it now? The content didn't concern her, nor her family. She had no right to destroy it, and in the same time she couldn't just drop that bomb on those people, as if it was nothing. No, the best thing to do was certainly to burn it and forget about everything… Oh, if things were that simple, she wouldn't be worrying about that cursed letter in the first place.
"Sis! You were here!" The voice of her brother came to meet her ears.
"Hayato," With a graceful smile, she greeted her younger sibling, as well as his friends, Yamamoto and Sawada who were following him closely. "I told you guys you didn't have to look for me. Enjoy your stay here. Or go have fun outside. Just don't forget to turn your phone on. You know you get lost easily-"
"Siiiis!" Hayato grunted and took a seat next to her (his friends imitated him), a deep blush spreading on his youthful face. It was so easy to get that kid flustered. "You don't have to remind me stuff like that too, I'm not a kid. Oh, what is it?"
Gokudera was eyeing curiously at the letter Bianchi had just folded in two and was now hiding under her hand.
"It's nothing. That's right, Hayato, your friends certainly want to go sightseeing, or grab something to eat outside."
This time, a beaming Tsuna replied. "Gokudera has already planned everything, Ms. Bianchi. Actually, he overdid it and I'm pretty sure we won't be able to come back before late this evening. Is it okay?"
"Yes, of course, it is." Bianchi's lips widened at Tsuna's enthusiasm. She wished her brother could be as cute as that sometimes, too. "But don't forget my instructions. Yamamoto, I'm counting on you to look after both of them."
"Yes!" Takeshi nodded like a well-trained pet.
"Bffff- Wha?" Hayato almost chocked on the croissant he had just put in his mouth. "Why do you have to ask him that? I told you I'm not a kid anymore, I can take care of myself!"
"I'm aware of that… but I'll be more reassured if I know there's someone to watch over you when I'm not there." She turned to smile kindly at the dark haired youth. "I'm leaving my brother in your care, young man."
The young silverette couldn't find anything to retort to that anymore and just took his face (now as red as a tomato) in his hands and did everything that was possible to avoid anyone's gaze.
"Ah… oh, I think it's time for us to leave!" Tsuna hurriedly spoke as he saw the situation degrading a little more with every passing second.
"Yes, let's do that, Tsuna!" Yamamoto eagerly followed his friends when they got up. "Thank you again for your invitation, Ms Bianchi. I'll take good care of Hayato."
The above mentioned youth almost burst in utter rage when he heard those words, but Tsuna did well frantically pushing him to the exit of the salon, thus avoiding a very unwelcomed ruckus. And, just like this, they were gone.
Bianchi sighed, then looked back at the letter under the palm of her hand.
"What am I supposed to do with you now?"
…
"I suppose that you already know that I'm a very busy man."
"Yes, yes, dear Mukuro, I'm fully aware of that."
"Really? So this is why you just called me out of the blue in the middle of the night to drag me here?"
Hung in front of Byakuran and Mukuro, one of the most well-known work of the deceased painter, Edward Hopper, the Railroad Sunset. The museum had just opened its door that morning, so the long and white and wide halls were still pretty empty, except for that one, where both men were standing, motionless, and totally quiet till Rokudo Mukuro voiced his complaint.
"Come on, don't you think that it's a very beautiful painting?" Smiling, the white haired man asked as he pointed at the scene of a signal tower standing starkly against undulating green hills and the orangey colors of sunset. It was indeed a very interesting piece of art. However, the blue-haired man could tell that, no matter how stunning the painting was, this wasn't the reason they were both reunited on that day.
Plus, even if his job required him to wear suits more often than any other bureaucrat ever, the idea of having to slip a three-piece suit on just to idly talk with some socially misfit, wasn't very pleasing. Byakuran, on the other hand, clearly had forgotten to warn him that it wouldn't be a business meeting.
As a result, now you have a man all dressed up to the nines in his favorite bespoke Zegna and glistening dress shoes, and standing next to him was one who looked like a lambda guy who had just got out for a jogging.
Extremely irritating.
"Tell me, Mukuro, do you trust me?" Byakuran suddenly asked and the long haired male nearly choked. He didn't know Byakuran was the funny fellow. That was too much, even for a quite composed man as him, to handle.
"Where the hell did that come from?"
"It's a question like any other."
"Fufufu… Very well." Mukuro adjusted his cuffs before answering. "If I have to give a candid answer… Who put my things together? Me, that's who. Who do I trust? Me, and no one else. This is why I'm the only one who calls the shots."
Byakuran's light purple irises didn't leave the painting for a second when he said,
"We're both quite similar, so I can understand this feeling. If you're part of a crew, nobody ever tells you that they're going to kill you, doesn't happen that way. There weren't any arguments or curses like in the movies. See, your murderers come with smiles, they come as your friends, the people who've cared for you all of your life. And they always seem to come at a time that you're at your weakest and most in need of their help."
Byakuran's gaze was unwavering, yet Mukuro somehow had the impression that it had been getting darker and darker as the white haired man was speaking. Certainly it was only an impression.
"That sounds particularly amusing when it comes out of your mouth. That still doesn't explain why we're here, right now…"
"I'm getting there." Byakuran was smiling again. Mukuro didn't like the guy that much, and he specially found his smile creepy as heck. Still, he preferred that creepy smile at the previous dark aura. That one wasn't creepy anymore; it actually made Rokudo Mukuro's animal instincts freak out. "I think you've already noticed them?"
"You mean the ten or so men posted inside and outside the museum? Yes, I have."
"It's because I like privacy when I'm talking about business related things."
"My, really? So you didn't call me because you wanted to share the joy of art with me? I'm shocked."
"Next time, my dear Mukuro. (The latter shivered with disgust at the creepy grin). But enough with the chitchatting. Let's walk, okay? I always feel like an easy target when I'm not moving." Byakuran invited the long haired man to follow him through the gallery. "I've heard that you're in charge of the mediation between SLW and the Cloud sparrow group. I also know Xanxus' recent idea of developing an US branch to VR Co."
"Fufu. I see news travel fast."
Byakuran shrugged. "I'll tell you this only once. And depending on your answer, the state in which you'll be leaving this place will be more or less affected."
Mukuro paused and frowned at Byakuran. He knew the white haired man was cunning (he was a pretty sly man himself, but that marshmallow head was a particular case), but going to such extent as life threats? It was odd, enough to pick Mukuro's curiosity.
"In this situation, it's not exactly as if I have many options."
The white haired man beamed, his eyes however scarily dead serious. "I knew you were a sensible man. Now, listen carefully: whether it is SLW or VR Co., one of those two won't be existing anymore by the end of next year."
The furrowing on Rokudo Mukuro's forehead deepened. In spite of his kind of good-natured appearance and charming personality, Byakuran was – as much as the lawyer could say – serious 95% of the time, and the crueler and colder the things he was saying were, the more it was likely that it wasn't just a joke. This time, Mukuro didn't want to laugh anymore.
"What makes you say that?"
They had stopped strolling aimlessly and now were standing next to painting again. But this time, no remarks about it.
"Mmh… It's pretty obvious, when you think about it." Byakuran chuckled, he shrugged again as though what he was saying was the most evident thing in the world. "I don't want to say that it's only a guts feeling, you know? Nonetheless, at the second my informant told me those exact words: 'Xanxus is sending Superbi Squalo in NYC to negotiate an extension of their business in the States'; I knew things had to end that way."
"Humph. So it's only guts feeling."
Byakuran locked his eyes, hot as ice, with Mukuro's, a smile filled with mysteries stretching his lips. "Are you sure?"
The white haired man's attitude truly was annoying Mukuro. Byakuran was simply stating that in less than twelve months, one of the biggest companies in the world could – no, would – go bankrupt, hence destroying the economy balance in one side of the planet, and that his reasoning was only based on some rumors, some guts feelings and unicorn sparkles? Bullshit. Now the blue haired man was even more exasperated.
He was exasperated because somewhere, deep in his brains, he knew that the probability was not 0%. Far from it.
"Even if that was true, I don't really see how that would benefit you, mostly if Xanxus is the one who bites the dust. Isn't your company related to his?"
"Oh, I've never said that I'd gain anything from this."
"Then why?" Mukuro didn't like how desperate his voice was starting to sound. Suddenly, the long haired man was reminded one peculiar fact about the white haired man. He raised an eyebrow. "Don't tell me this has anything to do with that girl from the Giglio Nero? Lord, I've always considered you as a reasonable man, and now I see with your head full of ideologies that don't suit you at all? Go eat some marshmallows, please."
"My, Mukuro, you're jumping too fast to your conclusions."
"I'll let you know that my informants are as competent as yours. If we're talking about the annihilation of VR Co. or SLW… Well, of course, that indeed stinks. On the short term. However, having VR Co. disappear from Italy, or having SLW stopping their activities in the US – as ridiculous as that may sound, but oh, that's why you need my "help": you need someone to inform you from the inside and, why not, accelerate the fall of the one or the other – but let's just picture that possibility… then we'll see all hundreds of smaller families trying to take their place. And, why not, the Giglio Nero as well. With your support, it wouldn't be impossible. The world will be plunged in total chaos anyway, anything would be possible. Okay, I have to admit that your scenario doesn't sound that stupid. Given everything goes according to your plan. Still, willing to go so far just for that little girl… Fufufu!"
"My interest in this affair isn't worth being talked about." Byakuran didn't show any sign of discontent nor… no, just nothing. The white haired man even looked quite bored now. "But I know you, dear Mukuro, have something to win from this."
"Fufu, even if I may lose a very important client?"
"Not that."
With a swift and brutal movement, Byakuran had pushed Mukuro against the wall behind them. Now, he was pressing his forehead against Mukuro's; the situation surprised him so much Mukuro didn't even think of breaking away from the white haired man. Instead, he was casting an outraged stare at the latter.
"You said news travel fast." Byakuran started to speak, his voice low and his eyes thrilled, his fingernails digging painfully in Mukuro's arms. "That's wrong. You should have said that I dig news fast. News like yours, for example. Why did you ask me what were my interest in this scheme? I literally have none. Unlike you, my dear little Mukuro."
And as brutally as he had pushed the long haired man, he also brutally let go of him. Mukuro's legs almost gave off under him; he had to lean on the wall, still, to support himself.
"Anyway, I've said what I have to say. If you feel interested, (I know you already are) you have my contact number. Bye!"
He didn't ass anything else and, turning tail, Byakuran left the hallway.
TBC
