AN: If I could have any superpower, it would be that time would stop whenever I write. But this is wishful thinking on my part.
Regardless, apologies for the lateness of this update. And the disclaimer is up as always.
The Golden Canary
Chapter 7: The Owl (part II)
- 2 nights later -
It was laughably easy for Iemitsu to sneak back into the Estraneo base, and even easier to locate and retrieve the trident the kid had asked for. Then again, a big part of his success was due to Mukuro showing him the layout of their base, and giving him the codes he needed to unlock certain doors. The kid had a monstrous talent; one that made the CEDEF leader consider recruiting him somewhere down the line despite his hesitation in hiring an Estraneo (albeit an Estraneo victim).
The boy's useful, but while his practical abilities are sound, I'm not sure that whatever torture the Estraneo put him through hasn't warped his psyche beyond help.
The masked man was currently crouched in the shadow of a crumbling house on the outskirts of town, far enough away from the Estraneo base to make an easy escape, but not so far that he would miss the kid coming out from planned exits A, B, and C.
If things were going according to plan, Iemitsu estimated that Mukuro would've retrieved the trident by now. He'd hidden the weapon in what he assumed was a test lab/torture chamber, and the smell, coupled with glimpses of that room in the dark, were more than enough to make the hardened Mafioso gag. He was no stranger to the idea or even the experience of torture (and this was both on the giving and receiving end), but the idea of what the Estraneo were doing to children…
He forced himself to relax, refocusing on the possible exits and half-expecting to hear a couple of muffled explosions, or at the very least some heavy gunfire. But even though he strained his ears to pick up even the tiniest of hints of the revenge-justice being doled out by one blue-haired boy, everything stayed eerily still and quiet.
Minutes passed. Then hours. And just when he was thinking about going in and performing his own justice-rescue operation, he saw the scraping of metal on concrete, and a small hand grasping a trident poked out of manhole B.
He flashed over, giving the hand his own and hauling out Mukuro and two other bloodied boys before carrying all three to the safety of his designated shadow.
From a cursory glance, despite their torn and dirty clothes, he could tell they were pretty much uninjured, so the blood must have come from the Estraneo members. Mukuro's eyepatch had also come off at one point, and they were all too small and too young; too tired to utter a sound, so Iemitsu gave them some space and time to recover, even though he needed an update of the situation.
«W…who the hell're you?»
It was the messy-haired boy who spoke up first, panting and glaring warily at the stranger. And judging by the slight shift in expression from the other boy he didn't know, they both had the same question.
Huh. Seems like Mukuro didn't let these other boys in on our plan.
«Kufufu. Don't worry, 153 – Signore Straniero is our outside help.» And judging by the freakishly genuine smile on Mukuro's face, Iemitsu guessed that everything in the Estraneo base had been taken care of by these three kids, which he had to admit was actually quite an impressive feat.
As they were in no immediate danger, Iemitsu simply nodded a response, and wondered what he should do with the two unexpected rescues. He'd already decided to cooperate with Mukuro, at least until Tsuna was found, but his plan hadn't included anyone else. While there was little to no chance of them ratting him out or even recognising who he was, he honestly had no desire or time to babysit the kids, especially ones who needed a lifetime's worth of therapy.
But as the extras relaxed, he could tell that Mukuro was the unofficial "leader" of this rag-tag team, so he sighed and decided that if the child illusionist couldn't leave them behind, then he wouldn't be able to either, not without giving up on their deal.
«So? Ready to hold up your end, kid? Or should we head to a safer place first?»
Mukuro huffed at being called a kid, but didn't say anything in favour of scouting their surroundings. «Hn. No; here's fine.» He took a few moments to shake off the last of his exhaustion from running, then stood and held out his cleaner hand. «Pass me the picture and object.»
Iemitsu obliged, taking out a shoelace and a printed picture of Tsuna from his pocket. It was a photo from his sixth birthday that Nana managed to snap just before he blew out the candles, although Iemitsu edited out everything in the background so the boy's true identity couldn't be traced.
«So, how does this work? Do I have to wait for you to fall asleep?» He tried to keep the skepticism out of his voice, but it was difficult as Mukuro only gave him the barest of information on how his unique tracking ability worked. While he knew the kid wasn't lying about his abilities (a combination of instincts, experience, and his sky flames told him so), it would turn out quite badly for him if Mukuro himself believed in a lie.
The kid simply rolled his eyes at his doubt and snatched up the proffered items, giving the picture a good twice-over in the glow of moonlight.
«This will do. As for the 'falling asleep' part, I recommend you knock me out – gently – then give me about half an hour to search before you shake me awake again, unless I manage to wake up by myself before that. And you two,» he shot a look to his companions, «watch out for me.» They nodded in deference, taking everything in stride.
«Alright. Tell me when you're ready.»
He watched as the boy gave the picture one last glance before curling both the shoelace and picture in his hand. The trident never left his other hand either, but Iemitsu just figured it was him being wary of adults. Years of torture would do that do a person, plus they were still practically strangers, even though they were accomplices.
He glanced at the other two silent boys who looked a little nervous, but still held themselves together despite their ordeal. So he held up his hand, and struck Mukuro's neck with pinpoint accuracy.
Please, he prayed even as he carefully lowered the unconscious boy to the ground, please find him.
Dream-walking was one of the very first skills that was spliced into Mukuro's brain, and his first successful use of it was at the tender age of four. However, the researchers quickly discovered that the ability was quite useless, as it only worked on people who had an open mind.
Meaning: he could only dream-walk into a child's subconscious. This didn't include mafia children as most had training on how to conjure a basic mental block, right after being taught about the different types of flames. The dream world was also very finicky as literally anything could happen, and while Mukuro thrived in chaos, he found it much more difficult to navigate through crazy.
On top of all this, his entire future hinged on what he could discover through "helping" the masked stranger. He'd already planned several possible scenarios and what action to take depending, but he'd lived long enough to know things sometimes don't go according to his plans.
The small tingle of fear he felt suddenly materialised into a screeching demon trying to claw through the ever-present prison bars of his dream space, and he flinched backwards into the yawning darkness. That was another thing about being in the subconscious world – here, a person's soul was reflected in the way they felt it the most, which meant things could easily spiral out of control if he lost focus on what he needed to do. It was a double-edged sword: he could see another's very essence and deepest desires while dream-walking, but at the same time he had to wade through his own.
It was a different kind of hell that reflected the truth and stripped him bare in the most painful of ways, and he never got a good night's rest throughout the entire experimentation process of what he preferred to call "Nightmare-walking".
Now wasn't the time to overthink it though, so he took a deep breath, and gradually shut out his own subconscious in favour of finding another's.
The picture of a brown-haired boy with matching eyes, chubby and innocent in a way Mukuro would scorn appeared, and at the same time he materialised the shoelace in his bloodied hands (a small consequence from the slaughter that had taken place earlier, but he wore it like a prize). Channelling some of his energy into the string, he made it loop through the picture several times before allowing it to extend outwards, a glowing streak of orange light in the murky darkness of the subconscious world.
Guess this means the owner's asleep too. How fortunate.
Mukuro quickly followed in the same direction, keeping pace until he reached an open door. Strangely enough, as he approached, he could hear a faint song wafting through, but even though he was curious, he was still cautious, and peered through to see what he could see before the boy would be alerted to his intrusion.
The walls of the room were quite barren; a step up from his own pathetic prison cell but still dank and fraying at the seams. The only unusual objects were the grand piano that took up most of the space in the middle of the room, and a small mattress with a few toys on it that occasionally flickered in and out of existence. The floor was also an ocean of bottomless water, currently swirling in time with the song that was filtering out from the piano.
The owner himself was curled on top of the floating instrument with a metallic disc around his waist (the grooves on the disc made Mukuro think of a gigantic coin, but he's never seen a coin that had a square-shaped hole in the middle), breathing in time with the music.
The scene was a little unexpected, but since the door to his subconscious was open, Mukuro had a chance to weasel some valuable information from him.
With a thought, he floated over and nudged the boy with a foot.
«Oi.»
The boy startled badly enough to fall spluttering into the water, but he managed to grab the ledge of the rocking piano while the metal disc acted like a floatation device.
"HIIEEEE! W-what? Who?"
«Fufufu. What an interesting reaction.» He hovered around before settling in a relaxed sitting pose, giving the boy a closer look with his dichotomous eyes. He seemed absolutely harmless and vulnerable, but Mukuro knew he still needed to pretend to be kind, as he was in someone else's subconscious and could be kicked out the second the owner wished to do so. «What's your name?»
Brown eyes widened to scared saucers before ducking behind the safety of his flattened wet hair.
«U-uhm, I'm sorry.» The boy's voice was barely above a whisper, and the soothing song that was playing in the background faded into silence. «I'm not supposed to answer a stranger's questions.»
«Oh? Says who?»
A stone tablet with a list of rules poofed into existence as an answer, and he skimmed over them. Interestingly enough, while most of the words were in Italian, a few looked more like strange alien scribbles, which must be a different language. Pity he couldn't read them as they seemed to reveal the names of the people who held him captive.
Must mean my target can speak more than one language, he mused to himself. But he scoffed out loud after getting the gist of this boy's "rules" – the adult or adults who established them must be control freaks. Either that or the boy was even more of a pushover than he thought possible.
How boring.
He leaned closer to the boy, wanting to discover why Signore Straniero was interested in him. Was this all there is to this boy?
«Ummm…who…who are you?»
The weakling's curiosity seemed to have temporarily won over his timidity, and Mukuro gave his signature smirk.
«You won't tell me who you are, so why should I tell you who I am, hmm?»
«Oh. Right.»
The boy splashed around for a bit before managing to haul himself back onto the piano, then peered up at him with puppy eyes that were innocent yet piercing enough to make Mukuro's skin crawl.
«You…you're like me, aren't you?»
The older boy blinked at the strange question.
«What do you mean?»
He looked down at himself, wondering if his subconscious self would appear different inside someone else's subconscious. He knew that he could channel some of his illusionist powers, and he was never above scaring the wits out of other children back when he was still experimenting with his skills, but the illusions were much harder to control as they depended heavily on his own mood and feelings.
«Ah; not on the outside. It's more like…you feel the same as me.»
Golden eyes searched his, and Mukuro shifted uncomfortably as the air bloomed an unnatural warmth.
«…Lonely, maybe…?» He spoke the word like a harmless afterthought, but something in his tone was so matter-of-fact; so understanding, that it made Mukuro sneer (in disgust/fear/longing/hope?).
He shot out an arm and grabbed the boy by the front of his shirt, and everything but the boy instantly dissolved into a tangible darkness that threatened to suffocate them both. Bruises sprang out of nowhere over the weakling's face and arms as if recalling a close memory, but even though he struggled in his grip, his eyes never left his, burning impossibly brighter in the sudden gloom.
«Kufufu. What an interesting thing you're saying. But tell me, whatever gave you that impression?» he ground out with a wicked smile, eyes flashing dangerously. He knew his emotions were going haywire – another downside to dream-walking – and there was no way to control them now, no matter how much his rationale was screaming at him to get a hold of himself.
«It's just a feeling. Mostly because of your eyes, I think…?» The brunette tilted his head and clasped a hand around the wrist holding him up, which almost startled Mukuro into dropping him. «I think they're pretty, by the way. Like soft jewels.»
«WHAT?»
«Huh?»
Before he could think, Mukuro threw the boy as far as he could for…for his insolence? For pitying him? There were way too many emotions the emotionally-stilted boy could handle at one time, so he chose the most pragmatic option – to run.
In the next blink, he was back in his familiar prison cell and jarring darkness; a reflection of his agitation. Never in his life had he ever been so put off by another, and a boy several years younger than him at that.
He shuddered involuntarily, taking deep breaths and forcing himself to calm down in the safety of his own subconscious.
Hm…this could prove to be more annoying than I first thought.
But one thing he knows for sure is that there was no way he could let the masked Mafioso know that he'd failed to get any information in terms of where the boy was being held, and even if he did, he would've done everything to prevent the two from meeting. The boy was more of a mystery than he'd bargained for, and the opportunity and hidden potential was too tempting to pass on to someone else – especially not to someone in the hated mafia.
While the boy clearly isn't part of the mafia, maybe I could find and possess him for myself one day. But first things first – I need to figure out how to deal with the situation waiting for me outside.
About five minutes before time was up, the blue-haired kid blinked awake, and Iemitsu almost jumped on him out of anticipation.
«So? Did you see him? Do you know where he is?»
«I've made contact, but there were…complications.» The uncomfortable look marring the boy's features told the Mafioso that he wasn't lying, and his heart dropped. «But I'm pretty sure I'll be successful on my next try. I just need to be in a better position.»
Mukuro pointed a thin finger to an area behind Iemitsu's head, and he turned to look. It was a taller building, which was no small feat considering its dishevelled state, and he eyed it skeptically.
«We have to be quick though; you're lucky I caught your target sleeping, and I don't know when the next opportunity will be.»
He sighed internally, but knew there was really no option left, what with the Estraneo famiglia being out of commission (although he was secretly glad he didn't have to deal with their kind anymore) and his own refusing to lend a hand.
«Alright. Do you need help, or…?»
The other two kids cut in at that point, helping their leader to his feet.
They stuck to the shadows while quickly making their way through the taller pile of rubble, with Iemitsu bringing up the rear and keeping a constant eye on their surroundings. It was still surprisingly quiet, although that could be due to the fact that he had dispatched a few bounty hunters earlier while Mukuro was unconscious.
It'd been difficult for the normally passionate man to sit still for so long, but for the sake of his family, he'd wait to the ends of the earth.
They settled on a corner of the open roof, and in the hazy moonlight, Iemitsu could make out a few more details about his temporary allies – dark glasses and bandages wound around the quiet one's head, while the other was a twitchy blond with glinting fangs and a raised scar drawn horizontally across the middle of his face. And though he couldn't see exactly what colours they were, without the eyepatch, he could tell that Mukuro had two different eyes. Perhaps one was blind…?
«Actually, before you knock me out this time, I want to confirm something with you.»
«Yeah? What is it?»
Something in Mukuro's right eye shifted, but before Iemitsu could register what it was, someone very familiar flickered into existence.
It was his baby boy; his tuna-bird, exactly as he remembered him. And frozen with shock, he forgot himself for a split second.
"Tsu–"
«Ken! Kaki!»
The entire building they were on exploded into a thousand pieces, and Iemitsu gasped, even as his body automatically sprung up in ingrained self-defense. Then his eyes narrowed as he realised exactly what was happening.
That little – I'm gonna kill that boy for pulling a fast one on me!
The burst of rage he felt was more than enough to break the illusion, and he looked down to see three kids streaking in completely different directions. He honed in on Mukuro's head and rushed after him, not really caring about the other two.
Idiot.
It took less than a minute to overtake and cut off the child's escape route, and Mukuro skidded to a stop, the irritating smirk never leaving his face.
Enough was enough.
«Kid, ever hear the saying 'Don't bite off more than you can chew'?»
He released his killing aura, and even through the veil of darkness he could sense the boy's stirring anxiety.
«Sure. But well,» he said as he inched his fingers towards his glowing red eye, «even I have things I can't give up.»
In gruesome fascination, Iemitsu watched as Mukuro gouged his own eye, blood and tears gushing out like some sick horror film.
«The Fifth Realm: The Realm of Humans.»
It seemed that even a kid as twisted and tortured as Mukuro had something he wanted to protect, and while Iemitsu could understand that, he shook his head in frustration, hoping he could beat some sense into the boy. He'd never been good at dealing with children, and Mukuro was pushing all the wrong buttons, but his instincts were telling him that Mukuro could help him find Tsuna.
«This is pointless you know,» he called out as they exchanged blows. Mukuro had pulled out his trident, and whatever power he was using had definitely enhanced his fighting skills, but he was still nowhere near Iemitsu's level, even without the use of his sky flames. «We also had a deal, so why don't you just stop this nonsense and hold your end? I'll even promise to help you and your two friends adjust to your new lives, which I think is more than generous.»
«Pff. Don't waste your breath, Mafioso.» He spat the word in obvious disgust. «I hate the mafia, and I've had my sights set on wiping them off the face of the earth ever since I lost my right eye. The Estraneo famiglia's death was just the beginning.»
Iemitsu cut him off with a roundhouse kick to the stomach, and even though he was holding back, he could still here the audible crack of a broken rib or two as the boy slammed into a brick wall.
«Give it a rest. There's no way you can destroy the entire mafia with just the three of you, even if you do have a bit of talent.» It was a last-ditch effort, but it seemed like the boy's mind was too far gone and steeped in too much hatred for him or anyone else to fix. What a damn shame.
«Ku…fufufu. That's…what you think.» Mukuro struggled to his feet, the tip of his trident pointed in defiance towards Iemitsu. «Besides, your little target is much too interesting to hand him over to the mafia.»
«Wait…you know where he is?»
The demon chuckled, giving nothing away, and the man saw red.
«TELL ME!»
And then Mukuro looked to the side and asked, «Have you ever heard of the saying, 'Don't count your chickens before they hatch'?»
«Wh–»
«Mille Serpenti!»
A large spiked ball on a chain came crashing through, and Iemitsu had to wrench his body in the opposite direction to avoid getting hurt.
«The hell are you?!»
«Hands off the kid, Estraneo.» A tall man with spiky black hair and a two-striped tattoo on his cheek stepped through the settling dust, recalling the heavy ball back to his hand and preparing for another attack.
«You heard him. We of the Serpente famiglia don't condone violence towards a child, especially if they're your own. And we intend make sure you'll never be able to torture any of these poor children ever again.»
Iemitsu turned to look, and groaned inwardly when he saw the heavy-set man with light brown hair and a bushy moustache step in, his normally kind eyes narrowed in disgust and anger.
«Wait; you have it wrong! I'm not from the Estraneo famiglia–»
«Oh please. The other two boys have already told us what's going on, so don't try to weasel your way out of this!»
Today is not my day, Iemitsu thought as he dodged another strike from the lackey and the signature brass knuckles of the Serpente's Don. But he knew it was impossible; not without revealing his true identity. And judging by the return of Mukuro's twisted grin, the boy knew it too.
Outsmarted by a child and his companions…Iemitsu, when have you fallen so far?
More Serpente members poured in from all directions hoping to surround the Young Lion, and he knew he couldn't stay long or kidnap Mukuro without dealing significant damage to the misguided famiglia.
He swore in gut-wrenching profanity underneath his mask, feeling like a part of his fragile hope had been gouged out. The sense of overwhelming failure was almost crippling, but regardless of what he felt, he knew that his best option was to beat a hasty retreat.
So he turned and ran, giving Mukuro one last glare as his unspoken promise that he'd hunt him down one day and rip the secrets straight out of the boy's mouth himself.
AN: Mukuro's chapter is done, although this was shorter than the other chapters as it's technically a continuation of the previous one. I've also edited the past chapters, as I spotted a few mistakes and wanted the overall story to flow better. I also had to read it to remind myself what each character is like (for continuity's sake!).
As for Tsuna's comment on Mukuro's eyes, it was just an honest observation on Tsuna's part, nothing more. I also gave Lancia's old famiglia a name as it was never stated in either the manga or anime, and it seems Lancia has a penchant for snakes, so "Serpente" it is. Anyway, whom will Tsuna meet next? Stay tuned for more!