Family Fun Times Log: Spade + Mukuro

[spade_eye]

(the post's subject is misleading)

Title: How Mukuro earned a free hot chocolate and a free escape to Sicily.
Or. Spade, his magic portals, and how he lured Mukuro with food once again
(the title is also misleading)
Who: Spade + Mukuro
When: After the disappearance of Giotto/ Mukuro having sucked out of his mist flame and tied to the bed.
What: As titled. Mukuro plans to escape from Byakuran, his ever helpful predecessor Spade is always there to help.
Rating: PG


Mukuro awoke feeling unusually groggy and tired, as if he had spent the entire day running a marathon then had collapsed into a bed with all his limbs aching and on fire. Well, there was more a leaden exhaustion than the tingling of overused muscles screaming, but the sensation felt strangely similar.

He recognised the scent left behind on the rumpled sheets - Byakuran must have taken him to their room while he was unconscious. From the lack of noise, the don didn’t seem to be around at the moment, and by the clinking of chains, he could see why he had been confident enough to leave Mukuro on his own.

Damn that man, he thought irritatedly as he struggled to sit up. He couldn’t ever fight fair, could he?

There was a note left beside him written in Byakuran’s hand-writing. Mukuro skimmed over it then snorted and tossed it aside. Several minutes later, the chains fell from his wrists and ankles. He smirked - too easy.

Escaping from this room was his first priority; Mukuro forced himself to stand then walked haltingly towards the door and peered outside. All was quiet. He hadn’t recovered enough yet to manage more than very basic, very simple illusions, and so he had to resort to using his weakened mental influence to turn attention away from his existence by tapping into the perceptions of those he came across. Like his illusions this wouldn’t work on everyone, but its effectiveness should be enough, he hoped, to get him outside without being noticed.

Spade was wandering the campus corridors aimlessly. Every so often, he would take out the devil lens from his pocket, and surveyed his surroundings, be it the grounds outside the window or the dorms he was walking by. This was nothing out of the ordinary (he was known to keep tabs on the cute students -and professors- in the University), if not for the frequency he was doing it at, and the unusual absence of his arrogant smirk.

Where was that Stupid boss? He had disappeared without a word. Could he have returned to his original time? Was it the arrival of Riccardo?

Lost in his own thoughts, Spade did not notice Mukuro’s approach until they were almost standing side by side. It was only then he realised he almost fell for Mukuro’s mind trick. One hand reaching out to grab the others’ arm, the smirk returned.

“You’d need to try something with a bit more power than that, Mukuro-kun.”

What luck. Mukuro had hoped to pass by unnoticed.

“Any more subtle and you would not have noticed, Spade,” he threw back scathingly. This uncommon weakness was irksome and making him more short-tempered than usual. “Are you pining for your master like a lost hound?” he added with a knowing smirk.

“I do believe I’m the master of our relationship here, Mukuro-kun,” he squeezed the arm he was holding, and raised his eyebrow at the lack of resistance, “My, my. What a weakling aura. What have you been doing to my precious vessel?”

Pulling Mukuro a little closer, Spade narrowed his eyes. If Giotto was away, and Byakuran was no where in sight... was this not the perfect timing?

“If I was your husband I would not allow you to wander in this shape... or could it be you’re trying to escape?” the smile on his face crept a little wider.

“Byakuran has no say in what I choose to do,” he replied frostily, leaning away from his detestable predecessor. The way Spade was leering was reminiscent of an old paedophile with his eyes on a fresh young child.

The comparison made his stomach turn in quite an unpleasant way.

“Say I was trying to escape,” Mukuro said carefully. “What would you do?”

Spade eyed him with interest.

“Nothing,” he amused, “All the easier for me to control you, without Byakuran being around.”

Though he silently pondered at this new development of his successor’s relationship with the Millefiore don. The last time he saw the two, they looked quite readily married.

“Marriage plan not going well?” he prodded with satire.

“It is going quite well, thank you,” Mukuro replied coldly. “Whoever said it was him I was running from?”

“Who else could you be running from?” he tiled the others’ chin, as if inspecting an interesting object, “Then again, I’d be worried too, in this weaken state of yours.”

Spade paused.
“I told you it wouldn’t have worked out.” He muttered this, as if self-assuring and taking satisfaction he had been correct all along.

Mukuro turned his head away in disgust. He still believed it could work out. Except doubt currently coloured all his thoughts concerning their relationship, which was why he felt he had to stay away from Byakuran. It felt too much like the other man only lusted for his body and was misguided in thinking it was love. It wasn’t anything like the loving relationship he’d had so long ago. The conflicting experiences confused him - love or lust? How could he tell?

“So you were right in saying as much,” he snarled at the other illusionist. “And now you have me to yourself. Might I add we would have passed by had you not been looking so lost.”

“What are you trying to get at, Mukuro-kun?” he played it lightly, a thin smile on his lips, “Taking interest in my behaviour and playing the psychologist?”

“You would not listen to me even if I did point out your flaws.” Mukuro attempted to extricate his arm from Spade’s grasp. All he wanted was to be left alone until Byakuran tracked him down again. Clearly something that was too much to ask for. The more he dawdled the more likely the don would find him and he itched to be away from here.

For a minute, Spade studied his struggling descendant, as if pondering what flaws he could possibly have. Then he loosened his grasp.

“Interesting. I would listen if you accompany me for a coffee, Mukuro-kun,” this was followed by a chuckle, “En route to your escape, of course.”

With one hand, he grasped at the air next to him. A flaming portal opened up, linking to a paved road blocks away from the University grounds.

“I doubt you’ll get far in your state otherwise,” he convinced.

The portal startled him into taking a step back. Then it was eyed with suspicion. It didn’t seem like it led to one of Spade’s card dimensions.

“...Where does that lead?”

“A rather charming cafe nearby,” Spade answered, stepping into the portal to lead, “Or a bottomless black pit of space, if you don’t hurry.”

The black flames flickered, threatening to swallow the path it led. Spade offered a hand, smiling smugly.

Spade had no reason to lie about this. As far as Mukuro knew, the other illusionist still wanted his body as a vessel. So he took the hand and let himself be pulled into the flickering portal, the urge to shut his eyes against the dark flames resisted stubbornly. They alighted upon the bitumen as promised, and indeed, there was a nice little cafe snuggled between two other buildings just down the road.

It only occurred to Mukuro then that he now had to rely on Spade to bring them back as he did not know where he was. Foolish, he berated himself.

The sweet aroma of freshly roasted coffee met the illusionists as they entered. He led Mukuro to his seat, and waved a hand to order his espresso.

“Does this not remind you of our little dinner date?” he began.

“No,” Mukuro put in bluntly before ordering a hot chocolate for himself. “Unless you plan to kiss me again.”

“That wouldn’t be a problem at all,” Spade leaned across the table, as if to to press his lips on Mukuro right then, “You are not yet married. Not that I see a problem, even when... if you become committed.”

He gave it a pause, before continuing in the same questioning tone, “If things... ah, work out between Byakuran and you, Mukuro-kun?”

He shrugged listlessly and stared at the crisp, clean tablecloth, hands grasped tensely in his lap so Spade would not see. It wasn’t that he doubted the don’s love any more - it was twisted, granted, but the feeling was there - it was that he doubted his own. He’d been so happy just a few days ago; if Mukuro hadn’t been the type to pick apart his emotional reactions regularly, he would have felt a great deal more lost than he did now.

“I thought it was a perfect opportunity at first,” he muttered. “I thought it might have worked.”

Spade regarded Mukuro with an unreadable expression. He had heard those words before. He had spoken the same, many years ago.

Vongola had been his perfect opportunity. And Giotto-

“Espresso and a hot chocolate,” the waitress interrupted, placing their drinks on the table.

The primo guardian picked up the espresso’s teaspoon, shifting attention to his twisted reflection upon its mirrored surface. Unlike his successor, Spade had never been one to sort out his emotions. It was too bewildering, lamentable perhaps... too weak. Better left aside in its muddled state then to attempt making sense of it all.

Dunking his spoon into Mukuro’s drink and taking a spoonful of it into his mouth, Spade appeared lost in his own thoughts.

“Chocolate is essentially bitter, beneath its sweet sugar coatings, don’t you think?”

“Cocoa was once drunk as is, without the addition of milk. It was known for being terribly bitter.” Mukuro didn’t protest at Spade’s stealing a spoonful of his beverage. Taking a sip and licking the chocolate powder that had stuck to his upper lip, he stared over the cup at his predecessor. Melancholy did not suit either of them, he mused, sure that the other illusionist’s contemplative facade was reflected in his own features. This was supposed to be something others with a much stronger moral sense did. Whoever heard of a Mist Guardian who spent their time agonising over their chosen course? If something didn’t work, they’d pick a different path and head down it without hesitation. Adaptability was one trait of their kind, after all.

“...Are we related?” he asked. It was something he’d been wondering about recently. Now seemed a good time to ask, when no-one that mattered was around to see them. Mukuro thought the question was a silly one, since all the first Vongola Guardians bore a resemblance to the tenth generation anyway, and it wasn’t as if knowing the answer meant anything to him, he whose soul would simply transmigrate to a new, unrelated body upon death. Still, it was worth asking.

Spade raised his cup and took a sip. Silently, he was rather glad at the change the topic. Revisiting the past is a weakness, and he was not about to give Mukuro the impression he had ever reminisced over his choices. The illusionist briskly readjusted the expression on his face.

“Does any form of relationships matter to someone who lives through endless vessels?” he asked ambiguously, somewhat avoiding the question.

“I suppose it doesn’t. It would not have changed my opinion of you.” Mukuro shrugged and used his spoon to scoop a little of the chocolate-powdered froth off the surface of his drink. “...Though it may not matter to me, does it matter to you?”

“I suppose I’d be lying to say it doesn’t,” Spade dipped his spoon into the other’s cup again, casually scooping for his favourite part- the shaved chocolate floating on the froth, before explaining, “Seeing you are all the more precious to me as my descendant, Mukuro-kun.”

He watched for the other’s reaction, adding, “Especially when we share such a close resemblance... appearance and otherwise.”

Mukuro paused in the middle of lifting his cup to his lips again and set it down with a clink. “How can you possibly know I am your descendant after two hundred years? To do that you would have to have kept a close eye on your bloodline.” Another pause. “You do not seem the type to settle and have children either.”

“Why did you ask, then, if you didn’t already have an inkling idea that we are related?” Spade leaned back in his chair, amused, “There are far more convenient ways to keep eyes on Vongola’s bloodline than noting each individual. And you’re quite right. I am not the type to settle and have children.”

“Nor you, Mukuro-kun,” he added pointedly, sipping his coffee and deliberately steering the spotlight off himself again, “That is why you’re running away. Is it not?”

“I’m not running away,” Mukuro objected automatically, and it was such a transparent lie that even he had to stop and marvel at the stupidity of saying it when it was so obvious that was what he was doing. “I desired time alone so I have been avoiding him.” There, that sounded much better. “And it is not about our future children,” the illusionist hastened to add.

“... Children,” he gave Mukuro a ludicrous look, repeating with dumbfound intrigue, “You wish to have Byakuran’s children?” His tone carried not sarcasm but a curious honesty.

“No, that is his wish,” Mukuro corrected. “...He wants me to bear them.” Because a don, of course, simply did not take on that responsibility, he thought sarcastically.

Spade considered this, before setting down his empty cup.
“...And how does this not work out for you?” he finally asked, resting chin in hand, “It seems more like you’re complaining it’s going too well.”

“I’m not sure I like it,” the tenth Mist Guardian admitted bluntly. Hell, why not be frank, it wasn’t as if Spade wouldn’t find out sooner or later. “I feel like Byakuran is tying a noose around my neck and using it as a collar, amongst other things.”

Even if he found the idea of an insecure Byakuran preposterous, the primo guardian did comprehend the desire to control, so often associated with affections in his own relationships.
“Because there is no other way...” Spade uttered into his empty cup, “to ensure someone is completely yours.”

“...Unless you physically possess them, of course,” he looked up at Mukuro, returning to his normal smirk.

A glare was what Spade received in response. Then it turned into a grudging nod of agreement. “...Can you help me hide?” he asked suddenly. Mukuro, having seen the method the other illusionist had used to transport them here, thought it might be useful should he need to escape quickly from Byakuran. Doubtless it would require some sort of price though; it galled him to have to ask Spade of all people for help.

“As much as I love having you plead to me for help, Mukuro-kun... you have nothing left to offer me for such a.. challenging task,” Spade refused to acknowledge Byakuran’s superiority in powers, but learning very well from experience, he had no doubt of his own dangerous situation if found to have assisted in Mukuro’s rebellion. Even his grudge to get back at Byakuran didn’t seem worth the risk.

He already had access to Mukuro’s body. The only remaining thing he desired was... the Vongola ring.

“I could willingly allow you the use of my body instead of resisting each time you try.” If even that offer wasn’t accepted, or if Spade demanded something he couldn’t give, then he would simply have to make do on his own. Well, if Mukuro could evade the Vindice then he could certainly evade Byakuran for long enough, so he wasn’t too worried.

“Certainly, that will make things more convenient,” he admits, quietly weighting up the benefits, “And where will you have me hide you? You are yourself a veteran runaway.”

In so many ways, Mukuro reminded Spade of himself, that he wondered if his successor had found answers to questions he did not.
“Tell me, Mukuro-kun. Where will you run to find your answer?”

“...Sicily. Just for a short time. There is a place I would like to visit.” It wasn’t so much the place as the atmosphere that had a certain significance to Mukuro. A little part of his earlier lives that he wished to revisit. A grave he knew still existed despite the time that had passed and the turbulence of Italy’s history.

“Sicily?” It occurred to Spade that the early memories he had dug through Mukuro’s mind, with that certain woman, was in Sicily. He paused. “ ...That is also the place of Vongola’s original headquarters,” he said carefully, as if something had entered his thoughts.

“Is that so.” Mukuro sipped more of his hot chocolate as he waited for Spade to elaborate.

“There is an item,” he continued dryly, “...If you can retrieve it for me, I will foster a decoy to hinder Byakuran’s search.”

A decoy, eh? “...What is this item?” Mukuro asked cautiously.

“Just a painting,” he shifted his glance out the window, “You should have no issues entering the place, it is merely an abandoned fortress now.” And although he did not say, the reason Spade did not go himself was because he couldn’t. Both literally because of the barriers the other Primo Guardians had setup after his betrayal, and because he had no desire to set foot there again, anyway.

“ ...And if you happen to see the Primo, tell him we have unfinished business,” he uttered quickly. It was Giotto’s hometown, after all, the only place he could think of where he had not search.

“Who or what does the painting depict? I imagine the old Vongola headquarters contained numerous paintings in its prime.” Mukuro supposed he could do this small thing for Spade.

“..One with myself on it,” as far as he remembered, his portrait with Giotto was the only time he had allowed himself be painted, “At the end of the corridor on the second level, there should be a private chamber. That’s where it used to hang.” Giotto’s bedroom.

The last of his drink slid down his throat. He set the cup down then Mukuro looked at Spade with a quirked eyebrow. “Vain even in death? Kufufu...”

“My, I just hope you wouldn’t find the portrait of my younger self so attractive you want to keep it for your own,” he replied, “...You will fetch it for me, then?”

Mukuro scoffed then nodded. “I’ll fetch this portrait for you should it still be where you say it is. Will you help me back to Japan once I’ve concluded my visit?”

Spade tapped at his forehead. “You know how to contact me.”

The illusionist waved for the waiter, and paid for them both. “I suppose you’d better get going, if you wish to get to Sicily before Byakuran find us.”

“Yes, he seems to have a knack for finding me,” Mukuro agreed, rising from his chair as Spade did the same. He led the way out on to the street then looked questioningly at the other illusionist. “Where shall we do this?”

“Down an isolated dark alleyway... or just a quiet street around the corner,” he corrected, laughing, after seeing Mukuro’s glare, “You will keep my portals a secret, yes?”

Mukuro’s lips twisted in wry amusement eventually and he gave a short nod. “I won’t reveal them to anyone else.” Actually, a dark isolated alleyway would at least guarantee that they wouldn’t be seen. Anyone could look out a window to the street.

“Don’t look so stress, Mukuro-kun. ‘Curiousity killed the cat’, anyone who stares should know that phrase,” he walked pass the other illusionist to lead into a dead end alley. With one hand on the stone wall, the illusionist opened another portal not unlike the one earlier. Its black flames danced, and the rich blue water of Sicily’s coast could be seen far off in the distance, “Port of Palermo. I guess this is goodbye for the time, then?”

Spade stood at the entrance and smirked. “A goodbye kiss?”

The tenth Vongola Mist Guardian snorted. “Are you sure you do not have a liking for incest?” However, he did plant a light kiss on one of the other illusionist’s cheeks. Like any Italian would, he told himself. It was nothing more.

“Thank you,” he also said. It was almost a grumble. Almost.

Rather pleased by what he got, Spade returned the polite gesture and stepped aside.
“Enjoy, then.”

A fleeting smile ghosted across Mukuro’s face before he stepped through the portal. “Try not to die before I return.”

And then the portal closed behind him and he was gone.