"So," Mukuro said, tone so nonchalant despite pressing a foot against Takeshi's back and twisting his arm back until the pressure there became a silent, all-too-real threat. He had never been so terrified before in his life, with the shadows on the wall, the gleaming demon-red of his captor's eye, the weakness in his limbs that rendered him helpless. And now, this. "Baseball or your friends?"

A question that he never thought about and didn't think he would ever have to, because Takeshi successfully managed to balance his time between them well enough and because his friends would never ask him to choose.

"Silent?" Mukuro asked, and Takeshi gritted his teeth at the mocking tone in the other's voice. Anger grew in the pits of his stomach and stewed, and the illusionist only added more fire to it when he continued, "I'll give you the count of three."

"One." Takeshi struggled to wiggle free the best that he could, before the other gripped his wrist in warning. "Don't," Mukuro said, "no matter how amusing your attempt is."

"Two." Takeshi let out a panicked breath as Mukuro pulled his arm even more and he swore he could hear his joints creak. Preparing to break. Takeshi pressed his forehead against the ground and willed himself to think. Mukuro chuckled at what he perceived was a surrender, and in the moment, Takeshi made up his mind.

"Three." Takeshi twisted to the side with all his might, unbalancing Mukuro and wrenching his arm away from the madman. Although Takeshi knew what was coming, the sound of a loud crack seconds before pain shot up his arm still made his stomach drop. His arm was broken. Takeshi shoved that thought away for now and retaliated by taking advantage of Mukuro's surprise to sweep his legs, knocking Mukuro down. As he was scrambling for a weapon – a stray bat, he needed a stray bat, didn't movies always had those in convenient places? – the door to the room burst open.

Both Mukuro and Takeshi instinctively stopped to stare, even though that probably wasn't the smartest move in the middle of a fight. Hibari Kyoya stood at the door, not a hair out of place, and calmly took in the situation, eyes scanning over Mukuro who had fallen against the floor and Takeshi whose hand closed over a huge piece of rock lying around. He then smirked, approval shining in his eyes for a second before he turned away to address Mukuro.

"You dared touch what is mine," Hibari said, a palpable threat evident in his voice, tonfa's held out at ready. The approving smirk that he gave Takeshi before turned bloodthirsty and anticipatory at once, and Takeshi told himself that it was just surprise and adrenaline that made his heart beat so madly fast at the sight of it. "I'll bite you to death!"

And with those words, Hibari rushed forward, only sparing one last look at Takeshi that told him exactly what would happen if he interfered with his fight, and then Mukuro materialized a trident out of nowhere and met him head on.

He watched them fight for a moment, although the more correct term would be he couldn't look away, not from the vicious curl that slashed across Hibari's face – that was the only rare instant he had seen Hibari smile –, the mad, amused look Mukuro gave in return, or the sheer violence they were capable of dishing out and visibly reveling in. At the sight, his hands twitched and his fingers itched. Something was burning within him – more than just anger, although that was there as well – and it took a moment for Takeshi to place it. It was desire to jump in, to interfere even though Hibari warned him against it, and to take part in the fight. The desire to do so was so strong that it left him reeling, and a part of his mind recalled, natural born hitman.

Takeshi eyed at the rock that he was about to use as a weapon, looked at the furious clash of Hibari and Mukuro's weapons, and promptly decided to look for a better suited weapon. A bat, a crowbar, something that would give him a fighting chance because he would be the idiot that Gokudera kept on calling him if he jumped in without preparation.

Takeshi was wrenching a half-detached leg of a ruined chair – he thought he would have ripped the whole thing off already if he had use of both of his arms, but used that to flame the growing urge of violence in his heart instead – when he heard a laugh.

He unwitting turned back around and then there was the two of them, except now the covered item in corner of the room was revealed. His eyebrows furrowed in puzzlement as the sakura tree – maybe as tall as Takeshi – grew right before his very eyes, from a tree that simply occupied a corner of the room to slowly blooming across the entire ceiling, raining down drifting blossoms in a move that might have been considered romantic if not for the effect it seemed to have on Hibari.

In face of the sakura, Hibari's body stiffened, much to Takeshi and – judging by the expression on the prefect's face – Hibari's surprise, and Mukuro took that opportunity to promptly jab the butt of his trident at his stomach. Hibari shifted to avoid a direct blow but it glanced him nevertheless, sending him stumbling a few steps back even as he stubbornly raised his tonfas once more with obvious effort. Takeshi winced, because even with all his optimism, he could tell it wasn't good news. On the flip side, however, with the room lit in sakura petals, the room somehow no longer felt full of shadows and his limbs suddenly seemed lighter. More like normal.

Didn't the kid, Reborn, say something about illusions?

"What did you do?" Hibari hissed, swinging at Mukuro with his tonfas, his movement slow and stiff. Mukuro chuckled and danced backward, playful and relaxed even in face of an opponent like Hibari. So assured of his victory now.

"Nothing," Mukuro said, perfectly smug and looking down at the other teen. "Let's just say I took advantage of a situation." He took a step forward, leisurely and calmly, and continued to mock, "I wonder, what should I do with you?"

Mukuro reached out to touch the other teen and Takeshi let the chair he was holding fly across the room, narrowly missing Mukuro only because he jumped back the last second.

"Hibari-sempai is Namimori's prefect," Takeshi said as he stepped forward, cutting between Hibari and Mukuro. He bent down and picked up the chair leg that broke free when he threw the chair, before raising it to point at Mukuro. A pleasant smile slid across Takeshi's face, so natural just like the weight of a bat in his hand, the swing of a shinai prior to him dropping it in favor of devoting his time on baseball. The leg of a chair cannot hope to replace a shinai, but if Takeshi concentrated closely, he could almost remember: his mother's encouragement and compliments, and his father's advices to his stances. "Messing with him is just like messing with us, and messing with us is just like messing with him."

"I don't need your help, herbivore," Hibari hissed behind him as he struggled to a stand.

"I know you don't, senpai," Takeshi said matter-of-factly without ever letting his eyes off of Mukuro, who still had an infuriating amused look on his face. "But this is personal," he said, eyes growing cold as he recalled his helplessness from before as Mukuro threatened the two most important things in his life.

At those words, Hibari's eyes flickered to his left arm, which hung limply beside his body, and then to Takeshi's face. Finally, he said, "The baseball team's Autumn game is in a month, isn't it?" and surprise made Takeshi turn back to stare at the prefect. Takeshi didn't think Hibari was ignorant of school matters, of course, but he didn't think he would recognize that he was on the baseball team. Hibari ignored Takeshi's surprise in favors of readying his tonfas once more, clearly deciding time for chit-chat was over. "Don't get in my way, herbivore, and I'll bite you to death if you can't participate in the game later."

A brilliant, genuine grin spread across Takeshi's face as he registered that, despite Hibari's harsh words, he didn't say no.

"Of course, senpai," he said, unable to help the sing-song tone of his voice. Hibari casted him an annoyed look at him for that, and normally Takeshi would take that as a sign of retreat, but right now, all he could do was keep from grinning even more.

"What a touching relationship," Mukuro said, clapping sardonically. "Except your situation didn't change one bit."

"Shut up," Hibari ordered, and then promptly charged at Mukuro. Takeshi, after a split-second, hastily followed.

Xxx

The three of them walked along the only road unblocked for a few minutes, until they came across a man standing in the middle of it. In his hand was a chain connected to an iron ball with snake-shape ditches on its surface.

There was no doubt about it. That man was Mukuro Rokudo, the one that that they had seen in the mugshots of the escaped Vendice prisoners.

Both Tsuna and Gokudera paused at the sight of the other man, but interestingly enough, it was Tsuna who swallowed deeply, steeled himself and then walked on. Gokudera quickly followed.

"Where is he?" Tsuna said, and contrary to expectation, it wasn't a shout made of two-part fear and one-part a bumbling demand. His voice was soft, but it carried well and moreover there was expectation there. A command for the recipient of the question to answer. When Reborn turned to look at Tsuna, his eyes were already bleeding orange. Only sitting on Tsuna's shoulders could Reborn make out the minute tremor of his body.

Mukuro's eyes widened in surprise at the sight of him, mouth parting to speak before he even became conscious of it. He caught himself just in time, and… something about Mukuro changed. His expressions flickered for a second, fast and indescribable, before it became brutal and cold once more. "Your friend is not here. If you wish to find him, you'll have to first defeat me."

Tsuna let out a breath at those words, and it sounded like resignation, determination and fear. Nevertheless, he nodded stiffly without a comment, before turning to Reborn. Reborn met his eyes as his student, for the first time, made a serious request of him. "Please shoot me. I – " Tsuna's hands clenched into a fist and for a second, the orange in his eyes wavered in the face of his overwhelming guilt, regret, and resolve. "I have to fight." I have to bring Yamamoto back.

Reborn nodded and jumped to the ground, taking out a spare gun since Leon was still in a cocoon and slipped the last Dying Will bullet into the compartment. He leveled the gun at his student and his student stood there, not ducking, not running away and just standing there. Accepting. Because it was his fault Yamamoto was captured and so he must get him back. Because Yamamoto was his friend.

Reborn waited a beat and then he fired. The last thing Tsuna did was smile at Gokudera, before he exploded in a range of motion, moving so fast that Mukuro barely had time to lift his hands up as Tsuna slammed his fist into the other man. Faster, harder, more brutal than Tsuna had ever previously fought.

Reborn didn't need to look to his left to know that Gokudera's eyes were gleaming with hero-worship at Tsuna's display of power and he didn't need to listen to know Gokudera was enthusiastically cheering his Boss on. Reborn approved of Tsuna's new-found strength as well – he was constantly breaking limits, but Reborn couldn't help but recall that the Dying Will was fueled by pressure and regret, so what did it mean when Tsuna became exponentially more powerful after being shot by it?

Dying Will was all about instincts, will and emotion, almost like a peek through a window into the surface of the soul and in the Dying Will Mode, Tsuna's eyes were wild, fevered and full of desperation. "I promised, I promised, I promised!" Tsuna yelled like a mantra in between his "ARGH!" battle cry. He screamed with every charge, got back up with every fall, and rushed back into the fight like a trapped bull that could see no alternatives. There was no grace to his fight, no change in strategy even after Mukuro tossed the iron ball aside to fight hand-to-hand, only raw determination fueled by desperation.

"GIVE HIM BACK!" Tsuna shouted and delivered the final blows, slamming his flamed forehead against the other's, followed by a heavy kick. There was a crack that echoed in the ruins of the Kokuyo Land, a gush of air and gasp abruptly leaving the lungs, and then the collapse of Mukuro's body. He didn't move again.

Tsuna stood above him, head tilted down and eyes shadowed by his hair, his chest heaving and breaths coming in pained gasps. His flame was distinguishing, but Tsuna was reaching towards the unmoving Mukuro regardless, visibly trembling arms reaching out to grasp Mukuro by the shoulder.

Gokudera hurried forward to help, to fuss over Tsuna's injuries and congratulate him on his victory, but Reborn remained in place and watched, eye unblinking.

"Where is he?" Tsuna rasped out, shaking the other man by the shoulder as though he could awaken him from his beating by sheer will. "Where is he? I beat you. Now tell me."

Miraculously, Mukuro's eyes fluttered open. He stared at Tsuna and there was something different in his gaze. Reborn abruptly recalled the battle, looking past all the observations he made of Tsuna, and realized that Mukuro, a renown illusionist, didn't use any illusions. "You freed me," he said, disbelief in his voice. "Three years in his control now, and – you saved me."

Tsuna's hold on Mukuro – no, who was that man? – loosened and the other man's body fell back against the asphalt with a thump. The fake Mukuro immediately winced, and his arm curled around his waist, where bruises were already beginning to show between the gaps of his tattered uniform.

"You're not the real Mukuro, are you?" Tsuna asked, even though he already knew the answer. He never looked more like a kicked puppy that kicked an even more miserable puppy. "D-during the fight… I had a feeling that you were reluctant, but I –" I just kept on fighting and ignored the niggling thought at the back of the mind because 'I promised, I promised, I promised!', 'GIVE HIM BACK!'. Tsuna looked horrified, and collapsed as all strength left him and only Gokudera's quick catch of Tsuna saved them rumors of the would-be Decimo laying in only his boxers with a random guy on the streets. "Then where is he? Where's Yamamoto?"

The fake Mukuro pushed himself up to a sitting position with visible effort. "He's there," he said, pointing off to a building at a distant. At Tsuna's surprised face, the tiniest smile crossed the fake Mukuro's expression. "I owe you one. I thought I would be forced to be Mukuro's double for the rest of my life, but then you came along. Please defeat him and save your friend." The venom in his voice was palpable when referring to the real Mukuro, but also the sincerity in his gratitude and his wish for Tsuna to find Yamamoto. "I'll go with you, but…" The fake Mukuro could barely sit up straight without wincing.

Tsuna nodded briskly, easily accepting the words of a man he was fighting against not even ten minutes prior. One day, Reborn will have to teach him about being so trusting. "Thank you," he said, and pulled away from Gokudera's supporting hands with obvious effort. "Let's go. Yamamoto's waiting." Tsuna made a move to leave, before pausing and turning back to the other man sheepishly. "Umm… may I ask what's your name?"

Reborn will never stop being amazed at Tsuna's innate ability to hit upon every emotional weak spot of people he came across and always knowing what to say to unwittingly break and remake them. The fake Mukuro swallowed, and looked overwhelmed for a moment because if his words were to be trusted, he hadn't been his own person for years and a name would be a start.

"Lancia," the man breathed out, like someone shot him multiple times in the stomach and set him free. Lancia, titled the Strongest Man in Northern Italy, who one day went crazy, killed the Family that raised him and vanished from the map, only popping up occasionally for a notable crime he committed. To think Mukuro was controlling him the whole time…

"I'm sorry for injuring you, Lancia-san," Tsuna said, nervously biting his lips as he casted side-glances at Lancia's multiple bruises. "And thank you for helping us." Tsuna bowed at him as per Japanese tradition, and almost toppled over. This time, two pairs of hands reached out. Tsuna looked at Lancia in surprise.

"No," Lancia said, eyes glimmering, and clasped Tsuna's hands despite Gokudera's warning growl. "Thank you."

Xxx

"It's a pity, really," Mukuro said, circling the two teenagers that have fallen before him, "that both of you have come to me in less than perfect shape. Who knows, maybe you would have actually been able to give me a challenge."

This prompted a weak growl from the prefect and a glare from his interrogatee, which would have prompted Mukuro to start laughing if his statement wasn't a blatant lie. Sure they didn't give him much of a challenge, but fighting them was draining and he still had the Vongola heir to tear down and possess. He didn't have more energy to waste on them.

"Sleep," he uttered lowly, using a little energy to nudge them towards unconsciousness. There was a bit of resistance from both of them, but their bodies were exhausted and needed to heal. Their bodies knew what their mind was too stubborn to acknowledge: sleep and rest were the best things to do right now. Of course, sleeping in the enemy's presence was hardly smart, but they were lucky that Mukuro had no more interest in them. Now all he wanted to do was rest a little before facing off the Vongola – who should be suitably weakened thanks to Chikusa, Ken and Lancia.

He headed upstairs to the room he claimed as his own, partaking in a quick snack of onigiri and a rest on the worn-in couch. His plan will work. Once he possessed the Vongola, he will use his authority to negotiate his freedom with the Vendice and later, their revenge upon the Mafia.

He woke up few minutes later when the minute illusion he set at the stairwell of his floor was triggered, dissipating and warning Mukuro at the same time. Mukuro rouse, an anticipatory smile curling on his face as he sat leaning forward with his elbows against his knees. His trident appeared propped beside him against the couch. Mukuro could see a shadow edging closer to his door, until at last its owner stood within the frame of it in plain view.

Mukuro startled as his right eye abruptly switched to the fourth path without his command, to the Realm of Demons. Images and emotions sliced through him: cockiness – a green orb in his hand with the thought of being all powerful, ruthlessness – the delicious feeling of ripping humans and demons alike apart, humiliation – a mere human defeating him with a blast of spirit energy, seething anger – paying the price of his crimes with his soul, and then – nothingness. Those were only remnant of strong feelings left behind on the soul that was fashioned to be one part of his eye.

The man looked at him with raised eyebrow at the sight of Mukuro's change. Mukuro looked back and finally said one word. "Yusuke."


Edit: Aori and I came back to this chapter, and it's now beta'd! Any question or comment, please leave them below.