noun: independence, license to do as one wants

Chrome's trident vanishes into Mist flames, reappears in Mukuro's hand, and there he stands in front of them, illusion or reality or real illusion, Tsuna doesn't care. He's grown taller, one of the tallest among his Guardians, tall enough to clash against the likes of Byakuran, to hold him back. It suits him.

Mukuro must like it too, standing as strong and confident as Tsuna has ever known him, stronger now without a doubt, not so powerless anymore against a world that backed him into such a terrible corner once upon a time, he felt the need to burn it all to the ground. Tsuna's glad.

[Tsuna's glad he's alive, glad he can see it with his own eyes and know for sure he is. Tsuna's so glad they're all still alive despite his constant failures to keep them safe.

They lost the Choice, and against only three of Byakuran's Guardians alone even when their goal is Byakuran himself, even when they all trained so hard to defeat him. It felt like a death sentence, was a death sentence, Irie bleeding to death on the floor proof enough Cervello was telling the truth as surreal as it sounded, the most terrifying words he's ever heard.

Tsuna stands on the empty, concrete road, and doesn't look at it, won't bear to see their bloody, motionless bodies lying on it the way Irie's had. Skyscrapers pierce the sky and block its sight, countless unmarked tombstones for the countless deaths that'll follow their failure, a few of them theirs. He breathes in the air, and it tastes like rot and ash and death.

This could have been their graveyard, before or after Byakuran took their rings—is still at risk of being their graveyard. It's not the first one they try to run away from, and Tsuna doesn't know how many more graveyards he'll bear fighting against.]

"It's been a long time, Sawada Tsunayoshi." Mukuro doesn't look at him, can't afford to look away when Byakuran stands unfazed in his column of fire, talking as if under the assault of a gentle breeze.

Tsuna wants him to, waits for him to, saying nothing, watching his back as if afraid he'll disappear. He stands at the edge of their world—their future, their home—, crumbling under his feet and forcing him to step back, stands at the edge of their world which has only ever kept crumbling since he appeared in this time, and his legs are unsteady and tired.

He fell off the edge mere minutes ago, but Uni has put back together the ground under his feet, put in his hands the thread back to their home for him to hold onto.

Tsuna needs Mukuro to look at him, the way everyone has already done yet no one could have possibly done because it'd be from Mukuro. He needs to hear it from him what he already knows, won't be able to move on from the future if he doesn't.

Multiple columns of fire burst from the floor to add to the first one, but Byakuran only laughs. "That's no good, Mukuro. You can't win against me with this. No matter how close to reality these illusions seem, they're just fakes created by you. If you want to win against me, you have to at least escape from the Vindice prison and fight me in person."

Tsuna falters at the edge, almost falls into the void. His stomach jolts, a wretched taste in his mouth, and he widens his eyes, horror and disgust closing up his throat, anger, [guilt.]

Mukuro has really been in the Vindice prison for ten years. Has spent his childhood inside that submerged cell when it was already made of another more painful and inhuman cage.

The childhood Tsuna's so desperate to protect, to get back to, and it means nothing but bars and pain and lost to him.

He steps forwards. "Mukuro—"

Mukuro laughs. "Don't worry about that. The day I defeat you with my hands isn't that far in the future. We've already made our first move, but I'll leave it at that." It's not a bluff, Tsuna knows right away, and he doesn't care to know anything else. "And if I can just hold you off here, it'll be my victory."

Mukuro looks back then, catches his eye, and sees him, the way Tsuna knew he would. He looks at Chrome, then behind them at their base, and back at him again.

He smiles, denouncing and despising the way only Hibari had let himself come close to do it. Mukuro pushes him past the edge like Tsuna knew he would. "You truly did bring even the non-fighters and children into this time. Are you happy of how far you've come, Sawada Tsunayoshi?"

That's right, Tsuna did this to them.

[Tsuna brought them into this terrible future, faked his death beforehand and swore Hibari to secrecy, trusted his Guardians and their younger selves not to break, trusted himself not to break, as if he shouldn't have been the one knowing best than the rest.]

"It appears time proved the ones who put their motives into you right. How proud must your Arcobaleno be from under his grave. Are you proud?"

Tsuna wants to burst out laughing, wants to weep, but he's tired of crying. He's tired of this future, exhausted of hearing people talk about him and not recognizing who they're taking about.

Should the Sawada Tsunayoshi of this time appear in front of him, would he look at him the way everyone else has looked at him, would he grab him by his clothes and scream his throat raw in betrayal and desperation?

[What have you become?]

Or would Tsuna hold him in his arms instead, would let him fall on his knees and hold onto him as he breaks, in mourning and desperation?

[What have you been made into?]

Tsuna's so tired.

[He just wants to go home.]

Mukuro levels him with one last look, unkind but not indifferent, before turning back to Byakuran. "Now, take the Sky Arcobaleno to Namimori town."

"He's right, Tsuna," Dino says. "It's better to just leave this to Mukuro."

Chrome runs forwards, stopping herself next to him. "But… Mukuro-sama!"

The fear on her face snaps Tsuna back to the present moment. "Mukuro! Will we be able to meet again?"

"Of course. It wouldn't do if someone else besides me ruled the world." He sounds confident, has a smile in his voice, but doesn't turn back to show it to them. "Listen to me, Sawada Tsunayoshi. You absolutely cannot let Byakuran get his hands on Uni, the Sky Arcobaleno." He doesn't turn back to look at them, to look at him, and it's him being kind.

Tsuna's so tired.

[He just wants to go home, he wants to go home, he wants to go home.]

A/N: This just in: I LOVE writing Mukuro, that complex nuanced traumatized bastard. It's like, he has such baggage with him and is so unique a character, but in a way he always has something to say in whichever context you put him in or around whomever you put him next to, so it's hard not to say anything when writing him. And it's super fun to see what you're saying with him when writing him, especially when in relation to Tsuna.

Next chapter Tsuna is really going to go through it again, but it'll be for the last time I promise.

I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Any and all review are appreciated.

Thank you for reading!

- Hope