A Reborn story, manga unvisited for over a year. An AU story about Chrome, her struggles with loneliness, and Mukuro's alternating concerns of her well-being and his morals, with exploration of the mind of an illusionist behind Mukuro's body being truly inside Vendicare Prison.
The first Chapter. Perhaps some introductions should be made. Chrome herself is newly fifteen, Mukuro time immemorial. Setting is a nondescript small city, her living in a comfortable apartment.
Act I: Dependence
Chapter I
Chrome sometimes wished she could hide her innermost thoughts from him. Which, as she had repeated to herself, was hugely selfish, he was sacrificing his mental power to keep her alive, a dying girl who previously had no association with him other than chance. It was not as if he was a recorder on her brain, rather a detector who could sense when she was highly aroused, whether that was in danger, sadness, or, unfortunately, adolescence's clutches. She unconcernedly drifted as she walked on the rather empty sidewalk, the sky indicating a time around mid-evening with the sun lazily drooping to her apartment building.
As it turned out, perhaps drifted a little too much. Her left boot felt air where there should have been pavement, coupled with her self-chiding and thought caused her to slip, and in perfect timing, a white van quickly envelops her view, headlights aglow and right about to strike her, not even having the time to consider moving out of the way. Chrome's mind races backwards, remembering the car from her 'fatal' accident. Red, she thought, and much smaller than this vehicle. She tried to repress the memory of the hospital, the endless, mindless solitude, the loneliness which she had never exited. And then..
Mukuro. The single thought rang in her mind like a silver spoon upon a crystal glass. And then she felt his powerful aura, that which others perceived as mysterious and dark, yet which she saw as a silent blanket, a coat of calmness, his passionate fervor and quiet, almost playful speech so distinct yet melding effortlessly as bubbles in clear champagne.
Tires shriek as she and the vehicle veer off course, the mirror clipping her uniformed shoulder as she stumbled back onto the sidewalk, giving a hasty look back only to see the van stopped dead, haphazardly crashed on top of the opposite sidewalk. She briefly thought about checking on the driver, but the pain in her shoulder and panic immediately persuaded her against; Chrome ran as quickly as possible back to her own second-story abode, which was opened by a still-shaking arm. As impatiently as one could ever see her, she locks the door, searching for him.
"Mukuro-sama?" she asked tentatively, speaking to the general air.
"Inquite virum, et vir advenibit," came her present, if tired guardian in musing Latin. His deep, almost always amused lilt was absent from his voice tonight as he noticed her uniform torn over the shoulder, his eyes low in disappointment. His physical form slowly manifested itself as innumerable particles forming into the Mukuro she knew so well, who took a single step and probed her shoulder. Chrome appreciated him not wandering her mind for the wound, for her thoughts would be awkward enough if revealed. Chrome shyly looked up at his face, tracking from the ends of his hair to his eyes, which flickered. She believed for a fraction of a section that she saw the character 'six' in his eye, rather than the normal 'one' when manifesting like this.
'He was probably strengthening my illusory organs,' Chrome thought, relaxing as his hard, but gently applied hand felt out her injured shoulder, without further escalating the pain. He pronounced it not internal bleeding, but rather a large, serious bruise. As if he knew the layout of her new apartment (which wasn't difficult, considering it was a single-bedroom apartment with the kitchen and living room making it resemble a square 'U'), Mukuro removed a handful of ice from her freezer and with unnecessary flourish, crushed it into tiny pieces with his fingers, placed it in a thin plastic bag and searched fruitlessly for something in the cabinets.
"Mukuro-sama, if you are looking for tape.." Chrome spoke tentatively, but with more confidence than her usual stammer, striding into her room and removing a blue first-aid box from her cabinet, which she took a measure of tape from. Conveniently, the very man materialized hardly a foot in front of her, with almost a Cheshire grin upon his lips, evidently growing after seeing his charge's blush and averted eyes.
"No need to be so flustered, Chrome. I need you and you need me, but this is only the body of my prime. My true self is devoid of any muscle, floating in a tank in the Vendicare," Mukuro lectured jokingly, if bitterly. Chrome did not take the humor well.
"I.. I wish that I could help you with your body, like you did for me," she remarked, having grown even more meek in her concern. Mukuro chuckled at hearing this in a rather dishonest manner.
"I think that even I would be rather appalled with myself, evil as they may call me, if I were to use you in such a way, Chrome-chan," he remarked offhandedly, now putting her into full-blush as she realized what he was implying, but smiling at her realization that he didn't mind having fun at her expense; he rarely got the chance to smile at anyone other than her. Mature as he may be, boys were still boys and he couldn't open up around Ken and Chikusa like he did with her, whom he shared a mental and physical bond with.
Not minding his rare moment of slight perversion, she gave him a warm hug; his presence so detailed that she could even smell the pineapple scent that Ken had dare shower him with. First it was touch, feeling the cloth jacket and shirt underneath with her face. Mukuro seemed taken rather aback, but obviously not too unhappy about the idea as he placed his arms around his girl. There was nothing to distract them from each other as their thoughts melded, with only each others' deepest personal thoughts hidden.
'How goes the trident training, still refusing to use a blade? - It's-It's going fine. Why do you keep on insisting that I don't use a trident, like you? - Because it's for the wrong reason. You're only doing it because I am, and that's simply hindering you. - Rather than what?
At that, Mukuro removed himself from their mental and physical link, stepping back and placing his hands on her shoulders, the customary ask for consent that he was beginning an immaterial illusion upon her. Chrome closed her eyes, allowing the new mental image to take hold of her mind.
Illusory World
Mukuro had taken the liberty of putting the two of them in a circular chamber filled with invisible lighting, almost like a painting. They stood five paces apart, weapons in hand, Chrome with her six foot long trident, and Mukuro wielding a meter-long foil.
The illusionist beckoned, and on his cue Chrome charged forwards with a piercing thrust to his left elbow, expecting a parry, trying to use the right blade to strike him with. Mukuro smiled, in that perpetually indulgent manner. He took his guarde, retreating out of distance, beating the shaft of her trident with enough force to interrupt her follow-up. But instead of continuing forward, Mukuro waited for another attack. This time Chrome chased him back and lunged with her trident, a full nine feet of reach in front. Without moving to evade, he parried the weapon, stepping in and lunged himself, flying forwards and striking the button on her coat with the most minute force.
"My my, little Chrome. One must always be ready to defend and counterattack," Mukuro chastised, frowning slightly. The spoken girl still felt the tiny urge to run over and cuddle with his leg, to apologize under his gaze. But that would never earn his respect. She nodded, the two returning to their previous positions. Chrome held her trident close to her body, pointing it at her opponent, circling with a constant threat, while her opponent did the same just out of her reach; and then she realized that he was allowing her to set the pace of the bout, her own distance. The first thing she remembered Mukuro teaching her on fighting; never waste the attack. So she waited, coiled and intense; his blade was much faster than her trident.
"Hmm, impressive footwork. But that alone will not defeat me," Mukuro complimented backhandedly, stepping forwards in an obvious attack.
It was no trouble for Chrome to see it; she thrust forward with intention to stab him with all three prongs. But he was just an inch out of distance; now that she had used her force, Mukuro quickly advanced upon her, which she predicted, drawing her arm back from her fake extension and hitting him lightly with the middle spike. He smiled genuinely at this, knowing she could see through his physical illusions and not only mental. Walking over, he ruffled her amethyst hair and breathed in deeply, knowing soon that he would have to retreat back to the Vendicare. He sighed, impossible to read as always, Chrome unsure of why he was more tired than usual, though the thought was quickly banished from her mind as he lay his head upon her weapon shoulder, of which she dropped immediately in surprise.
"M-Mukuro-sama?" she stuttered out, awkwardly holding him around the shoulders. The tired illusionist reassuringly patted her again, stepping backwards with another mysterious smile.
"Prepare yourself," he declared, brushing his gloved hand over his left eye, the numeral blurring out and being replaced with the 'four', the realm of demons, augmenting his combat abilities to new levels. Chrome barely saw the flicker of violet Mist flames over his eye as he moved so quickly that she immediately retreated into the defensive, drawing the trident back and spinning it in a protective barrier of metal and wood.
"Didn't I say you always needed to be ready to-" Mukuro sprinted forth, striking the piece of wood between her hands, stepping forward and holding the tip of his blade to her throat.
"Counterattack?" he asked rhetorically, his face showing visible displeasure. "A warrior never gives up her ability to attack for defense except in a single moment, a single action. The turtle, after all, never defeated the owl," Mukuro lectured, his gaze unintentionally softening as he laid eyes upon his disciple and vessel.
"The trident is simply a tool for casting and tearing illusions. But you, like me, have more than a single ability-" (at this, he gestured towards her eyepatch) "of which to defeat opponents. Just like mist, you must be able to envelop the enemies but constantly gauge your needs; a strong breeze will blow away a weak mist," and with this, Mukuro finally gave his customary smile, beckoning with his hand. Chrome meekly walked over, and the two retreated from the illusion back to the apartment.
Real World
With only a few dregs of stamina left, Mukuro sat down, Chrome doing the same. He looked intently into her crystalline eyes, his Path returning to the first, taking her right hand in his and exploring the pale skin, soft as the feathers on Mukurou, yet with a few marks from her use of the trident. Gradually, tired from the shared illusions, Chrome laid her head upon her knees, drifting into a restful slumber.
"Oya? How troublesome.." Mukuro mused, standing to pick up the slumbering girl, only two years younger than he, in both arms. The slight weight was reassuring, reminding him of how real she was, and bitterly of how she would probably recoil at the sight of him. But either way, it was not a time for such thoughts, it was a rare moment of solitude when with her, and he had never taken the slight upturn of his lips in his thinking. Resigned to his fate, Mukuro walked smoothly across the carpet, imagining for just a moment that they were back in his native Italy, in the cherry ballroom of the formerly large Estraneo, flying across the floors in ethereal joy, her in that white dress, him in black battle gear; away from the ignorant, omnipresent scum of ignorant hatred and simply with each other in mind's eye, their bodies setting the pace, like an earthly paradise.
But then Mukuro shook himself righteously. Chrome was not the kind of person who would be well-suited by a man who had resided in hell and heaven longer than earth- it would weaken her fierce strength, smother the innocence. As such a dark human, Mukuro could not help but want to show others his world, the crystal infected with obsidian, but Chrome was something else entirely, a mirror that let him realize how far he had gone, yet still loved him for his slyness, seeing his care beyond the impenetrable barrier of his personality; literally, the first to be inside his mind. And for this reason, just like Narcissus and the water, he could not help yearning to gaze at his reflection forever, to ponder how deeply he had fallen, and smile in self-mocking bitterness as the man who could have everything could still not have the one thing he truly wanted, in the cruelest irony that he could not take such advantage of her, and he knew of how easy it would be.
After such self pondering, the man checked himself- hardly enough energy to stay around another few minutes, let alone fantasize about dancing like a teenage Michelangelo. Hardly even noticing his surroundings, he opened her bedroom door to a rather unpleasant site.
A comfortable bed off to the right, Ken's 'borrowed' game system wired to her television on the left, and a computer on the far right corner. But that was fine. The opposite was thought about the strewn debris, paper, cables, and random refuse, which he wasted no time cleaning, rather halfheartedly considering the dilemma of whether to let Chrome sleep in her Kokuyo uniform or to undress her for a cleaner sleep.
X
Hey. As this is the author's corner, it's my turn to introduce myself. I wrote the combat as accurately as I could; I've been fencing slightly over a year and it's really my passion, so it's going to naturally be a little more than the usual spiel you get. Hopefully the story gets rather popular, but I must say that as an author I rarely plan the plot beforehand. Also, as you may have noticed from the style of writing, mine is more psychology of the person and my own ideas of emotion than of simple action and fluff. The terms feel a little numb after seeing how coherent actual explanation generally makes others seem to me, but I haven't written specifically for fanfiction in a very long time. Hope this was enjoyed, and I'll try to stick to a 2000 words of content minimum for all of my chapters. Good day, fellow explorers.