hearts in chains: iv
A/N: Welcome back to another fun week of HIC! Hur hur hur, you guys are awesome. Viva Friday! 8D
Thanks to: (I dunno, maybe the sky? Ha ha, I made a KHR funny. P: All you lovelies who have decided to stalk me. C: Now that is a happy face.)
Hearts In Chains
Sensation
You let me violate you
You let me desecrate you
You let penetrate you
You let me complicate you
(Help me) I broke apart my insides
(Help me) I’ve got no soul to sell
(Help me) The only thing works for me
Help me get away from myself
“Closer”
-Nine Inch Nails
It was a drawn out ritual to get him ready. “Lancia, you’ll get Tsuna bathed and dressed for the occasion-his clothes are ready, aren’t they?”
“Of course, sir,” The tall man replied, folding into a deep bow as he set off to prepare the tub for their guest.
“Chrome, please join Ken, Chikusa, and Fran outside. I believe that M.M. needs a reprieve for the moment. Oh, don’t break him, Lancia-I already did that.” Tsuna frowned to himself, annoyed that he was being treated like so, but didn’t protest. He was too busy focusing on the goal to be distracted, even by the firm grip on his thin upper arm. The girl, Nagi-or Chrome, was it?-nodded to her master and seemed to scurry off into the darkness, joining her comrades, wherever it was they were.
Once they had left the room with the prying eyes of the Lord and entered the bathing chambers, Lancia let out a long sigh. “I’m sorry about all of this.”
“I’ll be alright,” Tsuna assured him quietly, turning up a hand to say that he’d rather bathe himself than be helped. “I have a plan…it might take some time to come to the fruition I hope for, however.”
His dark eyes seemed to search this boy, looking for exactly where his confidence came from. From his messily spiky hair to his doe-brown eyes, this boy looked nothing like a fighter, or even someone of importance. He was of average height, slightly above average looks, and held himself like a normal person.
And yet, when Lancia looked at the boy again, he saw a certain resolve in his eyes. He was sure that he could defeat Mukuro. That he could win against his control. He kept searching. Why? That confidence doesn’t come from nowhere.
“Why?” He found his lips betraying him anyways, his eyes sharp as he stared at the boy. His question was loaded. Why are you doing this? Why aren’t you afraid of being broken? Why is it you? Why are you so young?
As if he were a mind reader, the boy simply smiled and said, “If I don’t, everyone I love could die, and then I’d become someone I don’t want to become.”
After that, conversation was seemingly over. Lancia leaned against a wall, watching as the boy dried himself off and wrapped the towel around his legs, disregarding his dripping wet hair. He followed as he went back to his room to change, handing him his original garments, freshly washed and repaired. The youth nodded to the man, slipping into his room without another word, and with that, he had to leave, joining the rest of the occupants of this massive place out on the battlefield.
…
“I really don’t have time for this,” The hitman sneered, kicking their grunts out of the way. Apparently, Tsuna’s captor had taken all the proper precautions, and that ‘second family’ he’d called in was the Millefiore, a previously no-name group led by a leader shrouded in mystery. He let another bullet slide into the skull of another one of the grunts, growing tired of the games. However, it seemed as though they were getting closer to the real cavalry. “Well, hello there, kid.”
“How rude,” The boy replied, stoic. “I’ll have you know that I’m sixteen, thank you.”
He whipped out his gun, only to have it floating in the air next to him, and then pointed towards his own face. The hitman clicked his tongue and rolled out of the way swiftly. The boy made a noise at the back of his throat, but his face showed no expression. “Huh, I missed. Master will be most disappointed.”
An illusionist? Reborn thought to himself, his scowl becoming more deeply engrained on his face. “Oh? And who’s this ‘Master’ of yours, kid?”
“Can’t tell you that,” The green-haired youth replied, jumping onto a tree branch before he distorted reality, the ground seeming to break into two and bend, as if seen through a circus mirror. “My job is to make sure you never find out.”
Something landing on the tree trunk less than an inch above his head diverted his attention, but he kept the illusion up regardless. It was closely followed by a noise that made him jump up, and he moved to another tree, flicking his eyes to his target, which was slowly escaping, combating his illusions with sheer willpower.
“Shishishi,” A voice seemed to snicker in the distance, and the hitman would’ve punched its owned in the face if the situation hadn’t been one that they actually needed to cooperate. “Would you look at that? Somebody thinks they can actually hide from The Prince?”
“More annoying people,” Fran murmured, and promptly had to dodge a uniquely designed knife. He plucked the string it was on and let out something that could’ve been taken as a laugh. “Is this supposed to be a joke?”
Belphagor, unused to being toyed with, for it was typically him doing the toying, grew annoyed with his tone, and launched several more of his weapons, all of which were easily deflected and met with powerful illusions. Those affected both him and Reborn, who would’ve felt sick to his stomach if he weren’t so used to the sight. He promptly used this time to escape, but landed in a trap nonetheless. “The Prince doesn’t listen to peasants, you know.”
“Who cares if you’re a prince,” The boy muttered, his green eyes glinting in the dim light of evening. He moved his fingers a little bit and nodded his head, making the space he was controlling even hotter, scorching his enemies’ minds, and choking their circulation as well.
…
They stood face to face, the shorter of the two staring at the taller straight in the eyes regardless. Mukuro smirked a bit, looking as dangerous as ever with a scepter in his left hand. He put his right hand on the younger teen’s shoulder, and then, he stabbed him.
It didn’t have to be the boy’s abdomen, but it was the least noticeable, and where he’d aimed, the least harmful. At the worst, he might have to have his Appendix removed. But as things were, the boy passed out on his floor from the blood loss, eventually, and he licked the blood from the pointed scepter before putting it back on the floor. He had to patch the boy up himself, for all of his subordinates were currently preoccupied. When he’d finished that, he fed Tsuna a couple of nutritional pills, and slapped him awake.
Bleary caramel eyes stared at him as he carefully placed his own body, then Tsuna’s, on the bed. The boy should’ve been frightened-properly terrified-of him. And yet, he was sitting there, smiling sadly, as if he were wishing him happiness.
It sickened the young lord. To find that such a person existed in a world like theirs. It shouldn’t have been allowed.
So he closed his eyes, willed himself into that mind, which had previously been so stubborn that nothing could get through, and now made way for him like the Red Sea had for Moses. He pushed inward, looking around, observing, waiting, hoping that his fledglings could keep members of the powerful family out of his domain long enough for him to figure out how this boy worked. His idiosyncrasies. His behavior. His friends and family-anything. Everything.
For his possession to go unnoticed for a time, he would have to know everything. To that extent, he even hoped against all hope that the man he hated the most would cooperate with him for just a little bit longer.
…
From the battlefront, all sorts of battles were taking place. The leader of the Millefiore was apparently done sending out grunts, so the only ones left on the field were Mukuro’s followers.
The half-shaved-head, half dyed-green-haired half-man was busy trying to land a direct hit on the auburn-haired girl, who was busy making things explode using a flute, the youths using deadly yo-yo’s and sets of teeth seemed to be struggling against the long-haired swordsman, and both of the leaders in the situation seemed to be hanging back, watching the situation unfold.
In fact, it was almost completely by accident that Lancia and Xanxus had even come face to face. The one that wore feathers and a raccoon tail attached to his hair had just finished relieving himself in a bush, and the one with dark circles around his eyes as if he hadn’t slept in weeks had been making the rounds. They would’ve passed each other, except that they both knew that this was no game. This was a middle of a battle they were in.
So Lancia took the defensive, shielding himself against attacks for the time, and Xanxus took the offensive, the first to whip out his twin guns that had large red X’s emblazoned on the sides.
Somewhere on the other side of the field, Reborn had managed to leave the bickering children to their fight and was slinking around the premises, looking for their weak point.
He winced, clutching his left arm-he’d been grazed by one of Bel’s knifes, caught in the crossfire. Not that the blonde brat that always had hair over his eyes even cared. Friend or foe, blood was blood.
And then, he saw her. An innocent looking girl, in a modest summer dress, despite the cool evening. But her eyes glinted strangely in the darkness, and suddenly, he was wrapped in an illusion.
Within it, a man with mismatched eyes stood, staring him down with a confident smirk. “Oh? Company?” He looked sloppy, his formal robes falling off of his thin form, but all the same dangerously handsome. “We all know how much I love company,”
And it was from that moment on that Reborn, who prided himself on being resistant to these types of things, could no longer tell if this was reality or an illusion.
…
“Don’t,” He said softly, his tanned hand hovering over the other young man’s pale, trembling one. “I need you to stay alive, Gokudera. You have to trust me on this. You can’t go to school today.”
“But Tenth,” His lightly green eyes seemed torn, as if they wanted to release tears and shine with admiration at the same time. “If I don’t go…what will happen to you?”
The brunette smiled reassuringly, patting his hand once more before he slipped out of the door. “Trust me.”
And he did. He waited…waited all day. So long. So, so long. It was possibly the longest day of his life. He spent every moment in his boss’s home, pacing up, down, around, back and forth in the same room, waiting impatiently for him to come back safely.
When he did, three hours after school had been released, it was when Gokudera was slowly losing his mind, about to run out of the door, a cocked gun in hand. He half-fell in the doorway, smiling tiredly at his right-hand man. “I’m back.”
“Tenth!” His eyes bugged out, and he hurried to catch the thin youth, cradling his head carefully in his arms. “You’re hurt! I’ll kill them…”
“It’s okay, Gokudera,” He reassured him, his warm hand on the other male’s face. “I promised to come home alright, didn’t I? And I did. I won. Now, they can’t bother you any more.”
It was then that he knew, even more than before, that he would follow this man for the rest of his life.
“How sickeningly sweet,” The illusionist mused softly, feeling the sensation of his target’s memories in his fingertips, as if he’d been the one speaking softly and gently to his subordinate. He continued to file through memories-saving a tall Japanese youth from a suicide that would’ve been mourned by many, for he would turn out to be quite the asset, taking in an abused child from the streets, who had come from nothing, and raising him under spoiled care, risking his life for two young women he’d really only known from afar, and, of course, his careful upbringing under the Spartan hitman’s thumb, and the tender affections of his God-Grandfather, who had named him as the successor to the throne.
Surely enough, he had learned how to talk, walk, and see like Tsunayoshi did, through the eyes of someone who appeared naïve, but kept many things under the surface.
With a chuckle, he let his darkness permeate him completely, until even the deepest recesses in his mind were blanketed in his disastrous aura.
When he opened his eyes, they were a soft caramel, with long-lashes. He forced this body to stand, a bit unaccustomed to its height and slightness. A chuckle passed his lips, sounding foreign in its pitch and odd coming from this mouth at all, but he climbed on his usual perch and stared at the chaos below, knowing that in a mere few hours, it would be time for his debut.
Everything is going according to plan. He leaned back in his seat, reaching for his hair to toy with, and realized that it wasn’t there. In lieu of it, he chose to use illusions to glove his hands and played with this one’s bangs through them.
…
It was a strange feeling, to wake up in the back of his own mind. It was due to sheer will power that he’d even been able to fend Mukuro off to this extent. He could think for himself here, even if it was a short leash-for now-and the illusionist was so busy do many other things at the time that he would hardly notice the presence he was disguising in the back of his mind.
He smiled sadly at the memories that passed through him back here, ones of happier, less stressful times. He realized with a pang in his chest that he missed Reborn, which wasn’t all that surprising. He spent nearly all of his time with the man. After that, he wanted to see his friends, the guardians, and his parents. All of them were probably going insane, being forced to stay at home and defend the fort.
Tsuna worried for a moment, because he figured that, if he knew the Ninth, there was no way that even he could talk Reborn out of attending the front lines, even if his tutor could force Gokudera, the most loyal and radical, to stay at the mansion and wait. He knew the man could handle himself in a fight, and probably handled illusions well too, but if Mukuro’s gang was as strong as he had believed and conjured that they were, it was a dangerous bet.
But for now, he could only watch. Watch as Mukuro played with the world, all of the men and women outside his dolls, regardless of whether they were friend or foe. He felt nauseous, ready to give up trying to repress him, but he persevered, staying strong.
This was how it had to be. He would wait. And wait.
As if stirred by all the memories passing by, Tsuna laughed bitterly, and realized painstakingly slowly that this was how Gokudera had felt that day; so long ago it was a fuzzy memory. To sit here, knowing well what would happen, being unable to do anything about it, except to trust, he grew tired of the act quickly.
He reminded himself to hug the taller man firmly next time he saw him, thanking him for his continued presence as he wept, folding his legs and wrapping his arms around them, trained ears still picking up what Mukuro picked up.
Bitterly, he swore that, no matter what, he wasn’t going to let the illusionist go unpunished.
A/N: Ha ha, and the plot thickens MORE! 8D I feel like a terrible person, doing this to you guys. Thanks to everyone for sticking around this week. :3
Chapter 5 Preview:
“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.
previous | next
ff.net
chapter catalogue
Thanks to: (I dunno, maybe the sky? Ha ha, I made a KHR funny. P: All you lovelies who have decided to stalk me. C: Now that is a happy face.)
Hearts In Chains
Sensation
You let me violate you
You let me desecrate you
You let penetrate you
You let me complicate you
(Help me) I broke apart my insides
(Help me) I’ve got no soul to sell
(Help me) The only thing works for me
Help me get away from myself
“Closer”
-Nine Inch Nails
It was a drawn out ritual to get him ready. “Lancia, you’ll get Tsuna bathed and dressed for the occasion-his clothes are ready, aren’t they?”
“Of course, sir,” The tall man replied, folding into a deep bow as he set off to prepare the tub for their guest.
“Chrome, please join Ken, Chikusa, and Fran outside. I believe that M.M. needs a reprieve for the moment. Oh, don’t break him, Lancia-I already did that.” Tsuna frowned to himself, annoyed that he was being treated like so, but didn’t protest. He was too busy focusing on the goal to be distracted, even by the firm grip on his thin upper arm. The girl, Nagi-or Chrome, was it?-nodded to her master and seemed to scurry off into the darkness, joining her comrades, wherever it was they were.
Once they had left the room with the prying eyes of the Lord and entered the bathing chambers, Lancia let out a long sigh. “I’m sorry about all of this.”
“I’ll be alright,” Tsuna assured him quietly, turning up a hand to say that he’d rather bathe himself than be helped. “I have a plan…it might take some time to come to the fruition I hope for, however.”
His dark eyes seemed to search this boy, looking for exactly where his confidence came from. From his messily spiky hair to his doe-brown eyes, this boy looked nothing like a fighter, or even someone of importance. He was of average height, slightly above average looks, and held himself like a normal person.
And yet, when Lancia looked at the boy again, he saw a certain resolve in his eyes. He was sure that he could defeat Mukuro. That he could win against his control. He kept searching. Why? That confidence doesn’t come from nowhere.
“Why?” He found his lips betraying him anyways, his eyes sharp as he stared at the boy. His question was loaded. Why are you doing this? Why aren’t you afraid of being broken? Why is it you? Why are you so young?
As if he were a mind reader, the boy simply smiled and said, “If I don’t, everyone I love could die, and then I’d become someone I don’t want to become.”
After that, conversation was seemingly over. Lancia leaned against a wall, watching as the boy dried himself off and wrapped the towel around his legs, disregarding his dripping wet hair. He followed as he went back to his room to change, handing him his original garments, freshly washed and repaired. The youth nodded to the man, slipping into his room without another word, and with that, he had to leave, joining the rest of the occupants of this massive place out on the battlefield.
…
“I really don’t have time for this,” The hitman sneered, kicking their grunts out of the way. Apparently, Tsuna’s captor had taken all the proper precautions, and that ‘second family’ he’d called in was the Millefiore, a previously no-name group led by a leader shrouded in mystery. He let another bullet slide into the skull of another one of the grunts, growing tired of the games. However, it seemed as though they were getting closer to the real cavalry. “Well, hello there, kid.”
“How rude,” The boy replied, stoic. “I’ll have you know that I’m sixteen, thank you.”
He whipped out his gun, only to have it floating in the air next to him, and then pointed towards his own face. The hitman clicked his tongue and rolled out of the way swiftly. The boy made a noise at the back of his throat, but his face showed no expression. “Huh, I missed. Master will be most disappointed.”
An illusionist? Reborn thought to himself, his scowl becoming more deeply engrained on his face. “Oh? And who’s this ‘Master’ of yours, kid?”
“Can’t tell you that,” The green-haired youth replied, jumping onto a tree branch before he distorted reality, the ground seeming to break into two and bend, as if seen through a circus mirror. “My job is to make sure you never find out.”
Something landing on the tree trunk less than an inch above his head diverted his attention, but he kept the illusion up regardless. It was closely followed by a noise that made him jump up, and he moved to another tree, flicking his eyes to his target, which was slowly escaping, combating his illusions with sheer willpower.
“Shishishi,” A voice seemed to snicker in the distance, and the hitman would’ve punched its owned in the face if the situation hadn’t been one that they actually needed to cooperate. “Would you look at that? Somebody thinks they can actually hide from The Prince?”
“More annoying people,” Fran murmured, and promptly had to dodge a uniquely designed knife. He plucked the string it was on and let out something that could’ve been taken as a laugh. “Is this supposed to be a joke?”
Belphagor, unused to being toyed with, for it was typically him doing the toying, grew annoyed with his tone, and launched several more of his weapons, all of which were easily deflected and met with powerful illusions. Those affected both him and Reborn, who would’ve felt sick to his stomach if he weren’t so used to the sight. He promptly used this time to escape, but landed in a trap nonetheless. “The Prince doesn’t listen to peasants, you know.”
“Who cares if you’re a prince,” The boy muttered, his green eyes glinting in the dim light of evening. He moved his fingers a little bit and nodded his head, making the space he was controlling even hotter, scorching his enemies’ minds, and choking their circulation as well.
…
They stood face to face, the shorter of the two staring at the taller straight in the eyes regardless. Mukuro smirked a bit, looking as dangerous as ever with a scepter in his left hand. He put his right hand on the younger teen’s shoulder, and then, he stabbed him.
It didn’t have to be the boy’s abdomen, but it was the least noticeable, and where he’d aimed, the least harmful. At the worst, he might have to have his Appendix removed. But as things were, the boy passed out on his floor from the blood loss, eventually, and he licked the blood from the pointed scepter before putting it back on the floor. He had to patch the boy up himself, for all of his subordinates were currently preoccupied. When he’d finished that, he fed Tsuna a couple of nutritional pills, and slapped him awake.
Bleary caramel eyes stared at him as he carefully placed his own body, then Tsuna’s, on the bed. The boy should’ve been frightened-properly terrified-of him. And yet, he was sitting there, smiling sadly, as if he were wishing him happiness.
It sickened the young lord. To find that such a person existed in a world like theirs. It shouldn’t have been allowed.
So he closed his eyes, willed himself into that mind, which had previously been so stubborn that nothing could get through, and now made way for him like the Red Sea had for Moses. He pushed inward, looking around, observing, waiting, hoping that his fledglings could keep members of the powerful family out of his domain long enough for him to figure out how this boy worked. His idiosyncrasies. His behavior. His friends and family-anything. Everything.
For his possession to go unnoticed for a time, he would have to know everything. To that extent, he even hoped against all hope that the man he hated the most would cooperate with him for just a little bit longer.
…
From the battlefront, all sorts of battles were taking place. The leader of the Millefiore was apparently done sending out grunts, so the only ones left on the field were Mukuro’s followers.
The half-shaved-head, half dyed-green-haired half-man was busy trying to land a direct hit on the auburn-haired girl, who was busy making things explode using a flute, the youths using deadly yo-yo’s and sets of teeth seemed to be struggling against the long-haired swordsman, and both of the leaders in the situation seemed to be hanging back, watching the situation unfold.
In fact, it was almost completely by accident that Lancia and Xanxus had even come face to face. The one that wore feathers and a raccoon tail attached to his hair had just finished relieving himself in a bush, and the one with dark circles around his eyes as if he hadn’t slept in weeks had been making the rounds. They would’ve passed each other, except that they both knew that this was no game. This was a middle of a battle they were in.
So Lancia took the defensive, shielding himself against attacks for the time, and Xanxus took the offensive, the first to whip out his twin guns that had large red X’s emblazoned on the sides.
Somewhere on the other side of the field, Reborn had managed to leave the bickering children to their fight and was slinking around the premises, looking for their weak point.
He winced, clutching his left arm-he’d been grazed by one of Bel’s knifes, caught in the crossfire. Not that the blonde brat that always had hair over his eyes even cared. Friend or foe, blood was blood.
And then, he saw her. An innocent looking girl, in a modest summer dress, despite the cool evening. But her eyes glinted strangely in the darkness, and suddenly, he was wrapped in an illusion.
Within it, a man with mismatched eyes stood, staring him down with a confident smirk. “Oh? Company?” He looked sloppy, his formal robes falling off of his thin form, but all the same dangerously handsome. “We all know how much I love company,”
And it was from that moment on that Reborn, who prided himself on being resistant to these types of things, could no longer tell if this was reality or an illusion.
…
“Don’t,” He said softly, his tanned hand hovering over the other young man’s pale, trembling one. “I need you to stay alive, Gokudera. You have to trust me on this. You can’t go to school today.”
“But Tenth,” His lightly green eyes seemed torn, as if they wanted to release tears and shine with admiration at the same time. “If I don’t go…what will happen to you?”
The brunette smiled reassuringly, patting his hand once more before he slipped out of the door. “Trust me.”
And he did. He waited…waited all day. So long. So, so long. It was possibly the longest day of his life. He spent every moment in his boss’s home, pacing up, down, around, back and forth in the same room, waiting impatiently for him to come back safely.
When he did, three hours after school had been released, it was when Gokudera was slowly losing his mind, about to run out of the door, a cocked gun in hand. He half-fell in the doorway, smiling tiredly at his right-hand man. “I’m back.”
“Tenth!” His eyes bugged out, and he hurried to catch the thin youth, cradling his head carefully in his arms. “You’re hurt! I’ll kill them…”
“It’s okay, Gokudera,” He reassured him, his warm hand on the other male’s face. “I promised to come home alright, didn’t I? And I did. I won. Now, they can’t bother you any more.”
It was then that he knew, even more than before, that he would follow this man for the rest of his life.
“How sickeningly sweet,” The illusionist mused softly, feeling the sensation of his target’s memories in his fingertips, as if he’d been the one speaking softly and gently to his subordinate. He continued to file through memories-saving a tall Japanese youth from a suicide that would’ve been mourned by many, for he would turn out to be quite the asset, taking in an abused child from the streets, who had come from nothing, and raising him under spoiled care, risking his life for two young women he’d really only known from afar, and, of course, his careful upbringing under the Spartan hitman’s thumb, and the tender affections of his God-Grandfather, who had named him as the successor to the throne.
Surely enough, he had learned how to talk, walk, and see like Tsunayoshi did, through the eyes of someone who appeared naïve, but kept many things under the surface.
With a chuckle, he let his darkness permeate him completely, until even the deepest recesses in his mind were blanketed in his disastrous aura.
When he opened his eyes, they were a soft caramel, with long-lashes. He forced this body to stand, a bit unaccustomed to its height and slightness. A chuckle passed his lips, sounding foreign in its pitch and odd coming from this mouth at all, but he climbed on his usual perch and stared at the chaos below, knowing that in a mere few hours, it would be time for his debut.
Everything is going according to plan. He leaned back in his seat, reaching for his hair to toy with, and realized that it wasn’t there. In lieu of it, he chose to use illusions to glove his hands and played with this one’s bangs through them.
…
It was a strange feeling, to wake up in the back of his own mind. It was due to sheer will power that he’d even been able to fend Mukuro off to this extent. He could think for himself here, even if it was a short leash-for now-and the illusionist was so busy do many other things at the time that he would hardly notice the presence he was disguising in the back of his mind.
He smiled sadly at the memories that passed through him back here, ones of happier, less stressful times. He realized with a pang in his chest that he missed Reborn, which wasn’t all that surprising. He spent nearly all of his time with the man. After that, he wanted to see his friends, the guardians, and his parents. All of them were probably going insane, being forced to stay at home and defend the fort.
Tsuna worried for a moment, because he figured that, if he knew the Ninth, there was no way that even he could talk Reborn out of attending the front lines, even if his tutor could force Gokudera, the most loyal and radical, to stay at the mansion and wait. He knew the man could handle himself in a fight, and probably handled illusions well too, but if Mukuro’s gang was as strong as he had believed and conjured that they were, it was a dangerous bet.
But for now, he could only watch. Watch as Mukuro played with the world, all of the men and women outside his dolls, regardless of whether they were friend or foe. He felt nauseous, ready to give up trying to repress him, but he persevered, staying strong.
This was how it had to be. He would wait. And wait.
As if stirred by all the memories passing by, Tsuna laughed bitterly, and realized painstakingly slowly that this was how Gokudera had felt that day; so long ago it was a fuzzy memory. To sit here, knowing well what would happen, being unable to do anything about it, except to trust, he grew tired of the act quickly.
He reminded himself to hug the taller man firmly next time he saw him, thanking him for his continued presence as he wept, folding his legs and wrapping his arms around them, trained ears still picking up what Mukuro picked up.
Bitterly, he swore that, no matter what, he wasn’t going to let the illusionist go unpunished.
A/N: Ha ha, and the plot thickens MORE! 8D I feel like a terrible person, doing this to you guys. Thanks to everyone for sticking around this week. :3
Chapter 5 Preview:
“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.
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ff.net
chapter catalogue