There was a nagging doubt in the ends of Mukuro's fingers. The slow turning over of an idea, the culmination of a chance. He disliked the feeling of slow thinking, and shook it from his skin. He pulled the illusion of himself tightly over Chrome's skin, just as he pulled his steps close together as he approached Shirou Kamui.
Mukuro announced his presence by invading the other's personal space. He nudged Kamui's leg with his toe, gave a moderately friendly smile downward.
The touch was unexpected; the face that greeted his startled-wide eyes not entirely welcome. "Hello," he replied after a pause and he drew his leg closer to himself.
Something about the other boy never failed to unsettle Kamui: the quirk of his lips too knowing, the look in his eyes too old.
Mukuro didn't wait for an answer. He slowly sat down next to Kamui, looking up through the leaves at the sky. There was a thin smile on his face. "It's a nice day." He added, looking out of the corner of his blue eye at Kamui's face.
Kamui frowned. It wasn't as though he could now tell Rokudou 'Yes I do mind, please leave' now, even if he knew he wouldn't have in the first place, but…still. That was surprisingly forward; something like inviting himself to join Kamui was not something he expected from Rokudou Mukuro.
Mukuro sighed, then, "Ahh, but I can't. You see, I'm a bit of a bully." Which was not the entire truth, but a shard of it. He did feel like indulging this little dirty piece of his self.
Then, he should leave. But loathe as he was to admit it, Kamui knew it was pride and pure stubbornness speaking when something in him claimed that he had been here first and of course he wouldn't be the first one to go.
"Why are you proud of that?" Mild irritation coloured his words.
"I try to not deny parts of myself, I find it causes other people trouble."
Mukuro looked back up at the sky as he said that. His tone was light, but the smile on his face was decidedly insincere. "But it seems like you're someone who thinks that it would be better if I deceived you."
"Truth or lies are better depending on the situation." Kamui's voice was clipped as he spoke. "I don't want to know." He took a slow breath, then looked down at his hands, tracing the scar that ran the length of his palm with his eyes. "Sometimes it's best not to know what could cause you to second guess what you think you know."
"I would not have thought you that kind of person, Shirou Kamui," Mukuro laughed, then, because the idea amused him. Then he stood. He did not slowly stand as he had sat, but suddenly he was upright and offering a hand to Kamui. "It makes me think we're similar."
Which was not something he was really sure he liked the implications of. Kamui's interactions with Rokudou Mukuro usually ended upsetting him. Still, he scowled at the hand before taking it with his own. Perhaps he would finally learn something about the why and what of Rokudou. "You don't know anything about me," he muttered, unsure whether or not he intended his words to be heard.
Mukuro leaned back, pulling Kamui up to stand as well. "You say that, but I wonder if you believe that." He helps Kamui up, and not bothering to hide his amusement adds:
"Have you killed as many people as I have? Or more?"
Kamui jerked his hand out of Mukuro's grasp with such force it sent him staggering back a few steps. "Shut up," he hissed, eyes suddenly dark with anger and unspoken pain. "Shut up!"
I will not. Mukuro said in the way he leaned forward, placed a deceptively calming hand on Kamui's shoulder at the same time he pushed with his other hand. Pushed Kamui into the tree, leaning forward so that the words he spoke would be heard by only them.
"Is it worse to do it with full intention or by accident? By knowledge or hesitancy?"
Kamui's eyes skittered off to the side, unable to face that bi-coloured gaze that looked too closely and too clearly at him. "I…" What could he say? Through the material of his shirt, Kamui could feel the scratch of bark as he shifted uncomfortably, wanting to step away and walk off. And yet finding himself unable to.
"It's easier to talk to someone if they look you in the eye," Mukuro murmured, and grabbed Kamui's chin turning his face back to him. "Don't be rude, Shirou Kamui. We're talking about our similarities here."
"We have nothing in common!" Though his words were perhaps nothing so much as a claim of desperation, he wanted to believe it with everything that knew it was…a lie.
Mukuro announced his presence by invading the other's personal space. He nudged Kamui's leg with his toe, gave a moderately friendly smile downward.
"Hello."
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Something about the other boy never failed to unsettle Kamui: the quirk of his lips too knowing, the look in his eyes too old.
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Mukuro didn't wait for an answer. He slowly sat down next to Kamui, looking up through the leaves at the sky. There was a thin smile on his face. "It's a nice day." He added, looking out of the corner of his blue eye at Kamui's face.
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"…Yes."
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Mukuro sighed, then, "Ahh, but I can't. You see, I'm a bit of a bully." Which was not the entire truth, but a shard of it. He did feel like indulging this little dirty piece of his self.
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"Why are you proud of that?" Mild irritation coloured his words.
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Mukuro looked back up at the sky as he said that. His tone was light, but the smile on his face was decidedly insincere. "But it seems like you're someone who thinks that it would be better if I deceived you."
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"Have you killed as many people as I have? Or more?"
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"Is it worse to do it with full intention or by accident? By knowledge or hesitancy?"
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