hearts in chains: v
A/N: Hello again, everyone! So, things happened, and it's totally not Friday...but HEY. It means you guys have less time to wait until THIS Friday!! 8DDD Anywho, onto chapter 5. C:
Hearts In Chains
Entwined
Then you’ll call me a bitch
In front of everyone we’re with
And you’ll be embarrassed
And I won’t give a shit
My fingertips are holding onto
The cracks in our foundation
And I know that I should let go
But I can’t
“Foundations”
-Kate Nash
The confrontation of the girl left him with a throbbing headache. The long-haired man she’d conjured up had proved a formidable enemy, stabbing him so that he coughed up blood. However, upon further inspection, it had been her doing that, under the thinly veiled illusion. Once he’d realized he could see through her movements and trickery, he bent both of her arms backwards, and made sure that she was immobile, but not quite dead-when this was over, he would need to question her.
Then, he spotted something from the corner of his eye.
Stumbling out of the mansion, looking dazed and beaten half to death, his pupil came out. His dark eyes narrowed, ready to bestow divine punishment on the man or woman who’d dared to injure him like this. The hitman rushed to his side, disregarding his left ankle, which was most likely fractured. “Tsuna!”
He looked up, his brown eyes lost. The youth smiled bitterly, glad to see him, and yet, looked as if he’d been through something traumatizing. “Reborn…” Without saying anything else, he simply crumpled, passed out from exhaustion and, most likely, blood loss. The darker-haired, taller man picked him up carefully, then positioned him so that he was settled on his back. Then, he used his transmitters, tuning into the right channel using the dial on the earpiece.
“Everyone,” He bit out in harsh Italian, making sure that they received the message. “I have Tsuna. Flush out the enemy, but do not kill them. We may need them for interrogation. Except their leader. Search the premises, inside and out. If you find them, kill them.”
“Roger,” Several voices seemed to respond, most of them either annoyed or amused.
Staring back at the girl, he picked her up too, but in his arms. Despite his wounds, he ran his fastest back to a nearby road-one that he knew was safe, and where one of their cars would be. He settled them in the backseat carefully, and drove off. His dark eyes stared at his charge and the girl with a distinct feeling that something was off, but he pushed it to the back of his mind for now. He had to focus on getting Tsuna treated, and beating, if necessary, the information out of this girl.
…
It was a few hours later when the battered Varia had joined him at Headquarters, all of them carrying their own enemies, except Xanxus. Taking inventory, there were several males-a green-haired one with tattoos under each of his similarly colored eyes, and wearing a distinctly lush fur-lined coat, despite its tatter; a blonde one with more pins than they could see trying to tame his furiously disobedient hair and a long, horizontal scar across the bridge of his nose; and a black-haired one who sported thinly-rimmed glasses, a white winter hat on his neatly kept hair, and a barcode tattooed onto his left cheek. As for females, there was only the one from before-the one with long, violet locks that fell against the small of her back, and a bit of her hair spiked up at the crown, and another with reddish locks cut into a neat bob, and the left side of her hair kept back with a pin.
All of them looked to be in their late teens, and had put up quite the fight against the notorious assassination squad, taking that into consideration.
According to Belphagor, there had been one more enemy, a man nearing his thirties had been with them, but before they could entrench on their territory any further, he’d set off several bombs, which kept them from entering the castle. He’d slipped in there, and hadn’t been found since. The blonde mused that he was probably their leader, since he was able to keep up with Xanxus for so long.
The man who general sported feathers in his short black hair was nowhere to be found, preferring to avoid these kinds of things for the safety of the other party. He was injured, but it was nothing particularly serious.
After the brief meeting, their prisoners were moved to the lowest level, completely chained to the walls and surrounded by guards that wouldn’t hesitate to shoot to kill in the event that they attempted to escape.
Reborn, exhausted from everything, slunk back to the medical ward, knowing well what he would see upon his return. Predictably, Gokudera had been the first to enter the room, barging past all the nurses to cradle his boss’s hand in his own, close to tears with joy that he was back home. Yamamoto following soon afterwards, smiling with relief, sitting on Tsuna’s left, just as happy to see him back, although he showed it in a different way.
Ryohei had simply looked at him from the doorway, not wanting to disturb his rest with his enthusiastic voice. Lambo did the same, only telling Gokudera to tell him hello when he woke. Hibari said nothing, did not even stop by to visit Tsuna, but his bird seemed to fly by the room, as if making sure for him that everything was truly alright.
However, he, like Reborn, felt something was amiss with the boy he refused to call boss, and yet did not completely desert his position. He decided that when the herbivore woke up, he would get him alone and get to the bottom of things.
…
“He got away with him, didn’t he?” Ken seemed to growl to his cellmate, locked up on the wall opposite him. “If he didn’t, I’ll fucking kill him.”
Chikusa nodded slowly. They settled back into the chilling silence, knowing that their every word, every action, every breath was being monitored right now.
…
I’m back home, he thought blearily, steeling his resolve. Now, all I’ve got to do is make sure Mukuro doesn’t do anything insane.
The day passed slowly through his own eyes, Mukuro’s acting being pretty much flawless. Gokudera ranted on and on about how everyone was doing, and how it was so good that he was back, the kids passed by every once in a while-Lambo apologized sincerely for getting him kidnapped, and he forgave him-and everyone else seemed to simply stop in and deliver news of some importance, or a get-well gift. It was some time in the afternoon when he was allowed to walk, firmly bandaged and heavily guarded, even though there was no way that his guardians could know that what he needed protection from was inside of his own mind.
By this time, Reborn had left him, seeming to keep his gaze on him a little longer than was necessary-so he does sense that something is up-but had been called away by the Ninth to make sure that the man was still alright.
Eventually, everyone went off somewhere in the building, either for training purposes or to return to their jobs.
It was around this time, when Gokudera was the only one with him, quietly cleaning his gun as he ate dinner, that he entered the kitchen, looking as pissed off at the world in general as he always did.
“Sawada Tsunayoshi,” The former prefect glared at him as he entered, and he stared back with a little worry in his eyes. God. It’s almost terrifying how he’s seen through it. Mukuro’s acting more like me than I do. “I want to talk to you,” He said pointedly, turning his sharp gray eyes to the nuisance sitting across from the teenager. “Alone.”
Gokudera glared right back, the clash of the two strong personalities making the tension tangible. “Boss was just kidnapped a couple days ago, in case you forgot.”
He raised an eyebrow coolly. “Are you doubting my capabilities, Gokudera Hayato?”
The silver-haired youth clenched his fists, digging his nails into his palms.
“Now now,” Their boss said calmly, a smile on his face. “It’s alright, Gokudera. I’ll go.” He stood quietly, and from within the recesses of his own mind, Tsuna wondered exactly how this would turn out. He could hold his own against Hibari…but in this state, and with Mukuro’s capabilities…it was questionable how things would turn out.
His right hand man simmered, trying desperately to focus on his weapons and failing, spending his time glancing at the clock and letting his head fall in his palms instead.
…
“Hmm,” The white-haired young man made an amused noise around a mouth full of sweets. “So, we’ve lost approximately two hundred soldiers of the fleet, his subordinates got captured, and we’ve lost track of everyone’s favorite young lord?”
His redheaded servant glared at him angrily, receiving another kick in the side from the long-haired man that lounged in the doorway. “It…seems this way, sir.”
“Oh, Shou,” He purred, lavender eyes sharp as he smiled menacingly, shoving more sugar-filled things into his mouth slowly. “That’s why it’s your duty to find these things out. He stood slowly, his bathrobe tied tightly on his waist. “When you don’t,” He said, leaning over his servant dangerously, his shadow projected on his pale, stubborn face. A pale finger traced the outline of the redhead’s jaw until his finger rested on his fingers. “I get angry. We don’t want that, do we?”
In response to that, he bit his finger. He smiled at his ferocity and they swapped glares with each other until Kikyo brought the other to his knees. “Shall I kill him, sir?”
“No, no,” He said happily, his anger evident in his aura, nearly tangible in the room. “It’s so much fun to play with a toy this energetic.”
Kikyo nodded with a frown, giving Shouichi another kick for good measure. “I’ll make sure he collects the information, sir.”
The young lord made a noise of approval and waved him off in dismissal, staring out of windows at the world below. He calculated to himself, and figured that it was about time to make a visit to the most dangerous, and yet most useful tools of his organization. Shou was one of them, no matter how unwilling, but he let him out, because he still needed to be broken in. It couldn’t be helped, since he was a stray he’d picked up with more mental intelligence than anyone he’d met in a long time. It was because he could hold his own with himself that he’d taken him in, knowing that their organization needed a tactician, and also someone to work with their inventor so that they would continue to have weaponry of top class, ahead of anything anyone else but possibly the Vongola had.
He would wait until the Vongola felt comfortable again, and then he would attack them from all points, knowing well that by that time the men he’d wanted to kill would both be there, albeit in the same body.
“Two can play this game, Mukuro,” The albino said to no one in particular, laughing genuinely for the first time all day.
…
When they had entered the room, Tsuna immediately recognized this as the training room. Good, he thought with a frown. At least they won’t destroy anything too important.
“So,” Hibari began, cutting no corners as he whipped out his weapons, a pair of tonfas that had spikes hidden in them that could be let out with the push of a button. “You don’t seem as herbivorous as usual today. Who are you?”
“What are you talking about?” His own voice seemed to come out worriedly, and he was putting up his arms tiredly. “Hibari, I swear, nothing’s wrong.”
“Don’t play games with me,” The sharp-eyed young man glared at him, rushing towards him, his weapons narrowly missing the brunette’s face. “Sawada Tsunayoshi doesn’t smell like you do.”
“Oya oya,” The mannerisms of the man that had possessed him came out at last, even though it was still through his own voice. Brown eyes narrowed into an amused position, and a smirk curled in a foreign manner on his lips. “I was curious to see who would approach me first. Everyone seemed to notice I was a little off when I came in…but no one questioned my performance-except you, of course, Hibari Kyoya.”
“Don’t say my name,” Hibari said lowly, continuing to launch attacks on the intruder. Mukuro-in-Tsuna’s-body continued to deftly dodge his tonfas, and perched carefully on the back of a chair quickly, finding amusement in the exchange as a whole. He’d had no idea that such interesting people were part of this household that he despised, if only because of the blood their Bosses carried in their veins. From on top of the chair, he conjured up a trident, and he stepped back on the wooded floor gracefully, his hands now mysteriously gloved as well.
“But you’re such fun to tease,” He purred, the surroundings becoming slowly curled at the edges as his illusion set it, making this room turn into his domain. As Hibari’s eyes narrowed, obviously unused to such sights and sensations, he tried his damnedest to follow Tsunayoshi’s movements, but he was going so fast…or was it that he was going so slow? Whatever the case was, he found himself trying to fend off the base of that long trident falling on his skull two, three, five times. He growled, closing his eyes, trying to simply sense him out, since his eyes were deceiving him. In this manner, with his ears and willpower, he held his own against the illusionist at last, who was impressed with his spirit.
“Ku fu fu,” Mukuro grew bored with playing cat and mouse with this man, and made things around them curl into impossible proportions, with a darkness that seemed to reek of blood. “Such a fiery creature. It’s almost a shame that I’ll have to possess you first.”
Hibari didn’t like the sound of that, and in fact, he’d rather die than have someone else control him. He fought with him tooth and nail until Mukuro was forced to bend his fingers backwards and hit him properly in his solar plexus, the unwilling man refusing to even pass out in the face of pain. Once he stumbled back up again after that blow, he laughed loudly at the sight. This man, with broken fingers, blood coming from the crown of his head and his lips, not to mention the bruises and scratches he’d acquired on his legs and arms, was still trying to resist him.
Finally, he fell when Mukuro dug a spike into his arm, burying the correct amount of his consciousness within him for later, as it would be impossible to possess him at the moment.
Tsuna, slightly horrified that his strongest guardian had been quelled so easily, worried for the rest of his family, and promised himself that if it was the last thing he did, he would break Mukuro’s control on him before things could get nasty.
…
“He’s back,” Reborn said to the kind old man, a scowl pasted on his face. “But something’s just not right.”
The Ninth seemed to frown at that as well, a little lost on his meaning, but knew that when he approached him like this, it was serious. “Well, I know that you’ll do the right thing. I need you to take care of this, Reborn, because in this state-my legs are failing me, and my mind is slipping with all of these drugs running through me-let’s just be honest, there’s not a whole lot I can do.”
The hitman curled his fists on his trousers, knowing that what he said was true. But for the moment, he simply stood silently, waved to the man on the hospital bed, and slipped away, heading to the basement where he would find the men and women he was due to inquire today.
…
“I…that! It hurts!” A child seemed to yell somewhere behind him, and his brown eyes flew open, worried. The voice, however, didn’t seem to be his own…it wasn’t a memory, then. “Stop it…STOP IT!” The voice yelled, and then there was a deadly silence, and Tsuna was startled, a little unsure as to what to do, exactly. When familiar laughter resounded in here, his voice seeming to roll over him dangerously, he tensed up, and he suddenly realized what he was hearing.
Mukuro, The brunette’s eyes widened, and he stood abruptly, determined to track the source of the noise he’d heard. That’s Mukuro’s voice…even if he sounds a little different now…that’s definitely him.
He grew more confident at the same time that he grew more concerned. This meant that he was steadily approaching Mukuro’s mind, which meant that he was getting closer to his goal. Once he could step into his mind and push the illusionist out of that, Mukuro would be the one residing in the halls of Tsuna’s brain and memories.
However, when he opened that door, he paled, and used every bone of willpower he had in him not to throw up at the sight.
Inside, he’d found the walls plastered from top to bottom with splashes of sickeningly fresh blood splattered there, and pools of it gathering on the floor around a barefooted little boy, no more than a meter tall. Dead bodies were splayed on the sleek marble, grotesque in the positions they had been killed. He turned to the visitor, himself, and smiled, blood on his face, hands, and feet, and it made his right eye gleam a little differently. The boy smiled at him, his short hair framing that pale face dangerously.
“Hello,” Little Mukuro said happily, a small trident in his thin hands. “It is so lovely to have guests from time to time.”
Tsuna stared at the carnage, putting a fist over his mouth so that the bile could not escape. He looked at that little boy, so disgustingly thin and covered in grime and blood, and he felt both horrified and terrible.
What have I gotten myself into?
A/N: So there you have it! Another chapter of HIC. Thanks to everyone again who reviews, faves, and alerts this story-I feel the LOVE.
Chapter 6 Preview:
“Indeed, il mio più caro assassino,” He said, his voice echoing around the mansion, everyone within that he had stabbed, even lightly, swarmed to the room, the numbers proving to be quite the obstacle for the two competent men. “How long has it been? Thirteen years?”
“Not long enough,” The hitman replied angrily, raising his gun to him and yet feeling annoyed by the rush of people entering to fight him. “I should’ve shot a bullet in your head back then.”
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