Kingdom of Hell

“Don’t talk about my scars.” [Mukuro & Chikusa]

That was enough for Mukuro, not like he was used to this sort of bonding, or touching for that matter. Never in his right mind would he allow someone to baby him like this, but it had to admit it felt nice. To be comforted.

His thoughts were however soon driven away as he crashed back to reality when the taller male asked to see his scars. This came as a sudden but short shock for him, never having given anybody the chance to even take a look at them. They were his secret, even though everyone knew they were there. Without even noticing, he had done as asked and had rolled his sleeves up to his elbows, enough for Chikusa to see his distorted arms.

Chikusa took his finger tips in his own nimble ones. Each way he let his hands touch the other was so gentle, so hesitant. And what did he do?

His index finger was on one of mukuro’s scars. “You’re loyal,” he moved his finger to another scar. “You’re determined.” He moved to each scar, naming another thing he liked. “You keep me safe.”

And he got to the biggest one. “You’re you.” He glanced over, locking eyes. “I have more reasons, but now each scar also has a reason why you’re better than your past on them.”

@sixxpaths

His heterochromatic eyes moved in sync with Chikusa’s fingers and widened a bit every time he heard a praise coming from the other’s mouth as if not believing a word that was spoken. That couldn’t be the case though because it was a well-known fact that Chikusa always meant what he said and had no intention of lying to someone as close as Mukuro. Not one of his loyal followers.

Normally people wouldn’t tell but the illusionist was touched by all of those gestures, the signs of affection he received from every member of the gang, no matter how apathetic or unresponsive he may have seemed.

It was obvious by the silence he kept that he had no idea how to react to all the compliments thrown at him. His gaze locked on all those scars that were given sense to not a moment ago. Conflicted feelings met with reality as Mukuro finally looked up and offered a weak smile.

“You’ve always surprised me the most, Chikusa.”

Chikusa wasn’t afraid of retribution, honestly. He knew Mukuro wouldn’t lash out angrily for a surprising gesture of affection, nor for the fact he touched him, especially his scars. Mukuro was a lot kinder than that outward pretense so few people saw through.

“A good surprise?” He retracted his hands, adjusting his glasses just to give something to do for his own slightly shaky hands. Chikusa was calm-ish. He wasn’t panicking and he didn’t feel dirty, which was a lot considering how long it was since he had last smoked.

Eye contact was made once, and even then Chikusa broke it quickly. It wasn’t out of discomfort, but rather out of habit.

#kokuyos-kakipi #don't talk about my scars

“Although you’ve never been one to speak out loud, you’ve certainly made me wonder about your behavior. In a good sense of course.”

He gestured up to his face.

“For instance, why do you avoid looking at me for too long? It’s as if you’re afraid of telling me something.”

His sleeves were rolled down again.

“And just now you came here and dug yourself into my problems just to comfort me. But under normal circumstances, you let others do the talking. How much more surprises are you holding back, Chikusa?”

It felt like teasing, to be honest. But he was right. Chikusa was always the one to bring sense into the situation and speak with Mukuro when things got rough. It left him puzzled after such conversations, especially in that moment when he himself broke down. Yet Chikusa always came to the rescue, almost like a guardian angel.

Mourn Me

It wasn’t particularly sadness he felt in that moment. More like pity, disappointment and shock. For some reason, he couldn’t help but connect all of those emotions to one question - how could such a strong opponent lose in a battle? The illusionist looked down at the grave as if not believing this was the reality. His face showed no expression but secretly held conflicting feelings. Taking in the truth, he exhaled deeply.

“It’s a shame, Hibari Kyoya. I thought you of all people would have fought till the end.”

Although he knew the cloud guardian couldn’t hear him, he still hoped that this was all an illusion - even if that meant that even Rokudo Mukuro himself could be fooled. But as he received no answer, he left himself no choice but to admit something.

He would miss him.

#morso-di-morte #mourn me

anyone 6'0 or taller: stands near me

me: [softly] for fuck's sake

shimurataes-deactivated20170416

Chrome is actually so amazing? She’s really, really strong, and I don’t just mean mentally/emotionally.

Like, okay, so she was brought up by neglectful, probably abusive parents who didn’t care if she died or not. So while many of the other Famiglia members had support structures despite growing up in broken or dysfunctional homes, she didn’t even have that. She had no one. She wasn’t born into the Mafia World like Bianchi and Gokudera; she never had an amazing tutor like Tsuna does; she was never a trained athlete like Ryohei or Yamamoto. Zero experience, zero training, and no home stability or support.

And yet Mukuro sensed that he was compatible with her. She had latent power within her from the start. She was strong enough that Mukuro could be in sync with her and, from time to time, possess her body so that he could fight. If Chrome wasn’t strong enough for that, he wouldn’t have been able to recognize her compatibility with him or sync with her. Then there’s her organs - for most of the series, she lives with illusory organs. While those organs are supported by Mukuro’s undeniably powerful illusions, could you imagine walking and breathing with illusory organs, much less being a part of the Mafia? And then, later on, when she gains independence, she learns how to maintain her own illusory organs.

From the moment she’s recruited by Iemitsu to be Tsuna’s Mist Guardian, she had to fight. Again, she had little to no training, experience in the Mafia, or knowledge of combat. And yet, even for a little bit, she could hold her own against Mammon, who himself acknowledged that Chrome’s illusions are “top-class”. Of course Mammon was able to defeat her easily - she had no training at that point - but she continued to grow stronger from then.

The next opponent that recognized Chrome’s latent power was Glo Xinia. He’s a grotesque, sleazy man, but he was also a really tough adversary. He said that Chrome grew stronger each time she fought - while he phrased it in his own slimy, nasty way, the point remains that each time Chrome fights, she becomes stronger, just like the other Famiglia members. And again, when she’s forcefully brought into the future, she’s alone. When the others were brought into the future, they also faced difficult opponents but they had each other. Chrome was alone in Kokuyo Land and had to immediately fight one of the Millefiore’s fake six funeral wreaths, an opponent on the level of Gamma.

She immediately recognized Glo Xinia as an enemy and did not hesitate to begin defending herself. And she won. She was the first 10YE!Guardian to win against a future!opponent. She, of course, had immense help from Mukuro, but remember this: she was able to alight the Mist Vongola Ring with dying will flames incredibly quickly. She did it as quickly as Yamamoto did, whereas Gokudera and Tsuna took a little while longer to. And she didn’t have a tangible tutor to help her. So with Mukuro’s significant help, she utilized the power of the Vongola Ring and made it her own. She herself realized how to combine the Ring’s dying will flames with her weapon - the trident - and coated the trident in Dying Will Flames, whereas Tsuna, Yamamoto, and Gokudera all had trouble melding their Dying Will Flames with their weapons.

Would she have won against Glo Xinia without Mukuro’s help? Definitely not, because none of the 10YE!Guardians at that point were strong enough or experienced enough. But the mere fact that she was technically alone, and that she was able to alight the Ring so quickly and use its powers so quickly is telling enough. Reborn states in the series that both Yamamoto and Ryohei are natural born hitmen, with instincts and potential roiling in them that one can only be born with. But I believe Chrome is a natural born hitman as well. There’s no other way a girl who was so inexperienced could fight so well otherwise and gradually gain strength after each battle passed. Chrome was born with powerful mist waves flowing through her that translate into powerful dying will flames and lethal illusions. She truly is amazing!

And finally, I believe that this means that Chrome is the true Mist Guardian of the Vongola. Because she is the true guardian, she can sync with Mukuro and she can utilize the dying will flames so well. And notice - the fact that even after Mukuro bestowed his role as the guardian to Chrome shows that he’d known, all along, that she is a true guardian.

duchessfraldarius

@theshadowdragonslayer

*cries* I ship it so much

[/joins in crying] same

#ME TOOOO #6996

“Don’t talk about my scars.” [Mukuro & Chikusa]

That was enough for Mukuro, not like he was used to this sort of bonding, or touching for that matter. Never in his right mind would he allow someone to baby him like this, but it had to admit it felt nice. To be comforted.

His thoughts were however soon driven away as he crashed back to reality when the taller male asked to see his scars. This came as a sudden but short shock for him, never having given anybody the chance to even take a look at them. They were his secret, even though everyone knew they were there. Without even noticing, he had done as asked and had rolled his sleeves up to his elbows, enough for Chikusa to see his distorted arms.

Chikusa took his finger tips in his own nimble ones. Each way he let his hands touch the other was so gentle, so hesitant. And what did he do?

His index finger was on one of mukuro’s scars. “You’re loyal,” he moved his finger to another scar. “You’re determined.” He moved to each scar, naming another thing he liked. “You keep me safe.”

And he got to the biggest one. “You’re you.” He glanced over, locking eyes. “I have more reasons, but now each scar also has a reason why you’re better than your past on them.”

@sixxpaths

His heterochromatic eyes moved in sync with Chikusa's fingers and widened a bit every time he heard a praise coming from the other's mouth as if not believing a word that was spoken. That couldn't be the case though because it was a well-known fact that Chikusa always meant what he said and had no intention of lying to someone as close as Mukuro. Not one of his loyal followers.

Normally people wouldn't tell but the illusionist was touched by all of those gestures, the signs of affection he received from every member of the gang, no matter how apathetic or unresponsive he may have seemed.

It was obvious by the silence he kept that he had no idea how to react to all the compliments thrown at him. His gaze locked on all those scars that were given sense to not a moment ago. Conflicted feelings met with reality as Mukuro finally looked up and offered a weak smile.

"You've always surprised me the most, Chikusa."

#kokuyos-kakipi

Distaste || Hibari and Mukuro

He could barely make out the furious gaze that the older teen was sending his way, but knowing Hibari for so long - he didn’t need to. Instead, his mismatched eyes tried focusing on the body before him.

Despite not remembering exactly why the cloud guardian was standing there in the first place, he knew it had something to do with the mistake of picking up his phone in a not very sober state, resulting in a few poorly-written messages that lacked any correct spelling to begin with.

What was he supposed to do in a dead end like this? His weapon was nowhere to be found, not that he could fight anyway, and he had strictly demanded to be left alone for the day so his subordinates were too far away to help him at this point.

It’s almost like he was able to feel Hibari’s boiling anger from across the room that he realized just how much of a disappointing rival he was being.

“It’s rather amusing, no? I never thought we’d find ourselves in a situation where I stand powerless in front of you.”

A sad smile spread on his face, his head leaning on the sofa’s armrest as he chuckled under his breath.

“But I’ll take your accusation for it. It’s pitiful how I fell victim to my own hands.”

‘Amusing’ was not what Hibari would call the current situation, but Mukuro was correct. He never thought he’d catch the other so powerless. Not in this sense, at least.

His stormy eyes remained narrowed. Pitiful was right. Never had the prefect experienced such disappointment.

Irritation was a common emotion, as was derision. Anger was harder to come by, but here it so obviously blazed in his eyes.

Why?

Why should he be so bothered by it? He could have easily continued to ignore the onslaught of text messages, but here he was, glaring– absolutely livid.

This was not the rival Hibari wanted.

A part of him held a strange sense of regard– of respect for the mage. He was the only real challenge Hibari had. Mukuro did not treat him like a student with lessons to be taught, he was not weak willed, he did not buy into the notion of “family”.

Everything about their rivalry was simple and untouched by the unnecessary complexities of the world they lived in.

Seeing the other in this state… it bothered him greatly.

“You didn’t answer me. Are you proud?”

#morso-di-morte #distaste

No, Mukuro was, in fact, not proud. Not in the slightest. If he had the chance to go back in time and prevent this situation from ever happening, he would, knowing how much he was embarrassing himself in that moment.

But it was far too late for that. He kept his gaze locked with the prefect, even though his vision remained as blurry as mist. Kind of ironic really.

The only answer the illusionist could offer the other was a slow shaking of his head as his smile slowly faded, realizing that it was far beyond a laughing matter.

So what was going to happen now? Would Hibari stop coming? Would their perfect rivalry be left unspoken of? Was the one of the very few people Mukuro strangely held respect for going to declare him as weak once and for all?

There was no telling where their relationship was going.

Distaste || Hibari and Mukuro

@sixxpaths:

Mukuro hated looking and feeling vulnerable. He was absolutely sure he would die before anyone could every see him so desperate and wasted. Normally the illusionist wouldn’t let that ever happen but right now he just couldn’t help it, couldn’t help himself anymore. The taste of alcohol which was so alluring to him had him crashing to the ground, right beside the couch as he took another sip from the bottle. Legs spread, jacket tossed somewhere in an unknown location, the only thought running through his mind was about the price of the drink and how he was supposed to spend his money on more important things, like feeding the rest of his gang. Yet, it was already too late so those questions were soon left behind like his common sense.

Although his vision was blurred and the light coming from outside wasn’t exactly making the situation better, he could tell apart one single silhouette coming through the doorway. The only person he didn’t want to be seen by in his state. There was no mistake. Hibari’s visits always amused the young illusionist, when he was sober that is, and their fights were a great source of entertainment. Surely he would be disappointed to see his favorite rival acting like a weakling. How in his right mind did he allow himself to be drunk when he was always on the run? He questioned himself while giving the cloud guardian his usual smirk, hopelessly trying to regain his composure once more.

A genuine derision, far more potent than usual, filled the teen as he made his way through Kokuyo Land.

Earlier, he had received a text message from the other. It made little sense as it was littered with misspelled words and shitty grammar.

It was a simple thing to ignore. He didn’t even bother trying to figure out what it said, nor did he care to ask Mukuro to send another message with more sense to it. However, it became harder to ignore when he began to receive more messages from said mage.

At some point, he could have sworn he read the word “drunk” amidst the jumbled letters of his text and Hibari’s eyes narrowed as he forcefully shut his phone and pocketed it, determined to ignore any further onslaught of texts. He would have nothing to do with a drunken fool and would not be goaded into any fights. An intoxicated opponent was a dead one.

Except, the barrage of texts didn’t end.

An audible growl left the teen’s lips as he grabbed his coat and left.

He tried not to make visits to Kokuyo Land a frequent occurrence, but he was a glutton for the thrill of the fight and Mukuro was too entertaining a rival to stay away for long periods of time, especially in the absence of the Bronco.

As he entered Mukuro’s lair, he was unsure of what to expect, but the sight of the taller teen sprawled across the floor, an idiotic and distorted version of his usual smirk plastered on his face, brought a thick sense of distaste to the skylark.

He did not like alcohol.

Slat eyes narrowed, he remained at the door.

“Proud of yourself, are we? Pitiful.”

#morso-di-morte #distaste

He could barely make out the furious gaze that the older teen was sending his way, but knowing Hibari for so long - he didn’t need to. Instead, his mismatched eyes tried focusing on the body before him.

Despite not remembering exactly why the cloud guardian was standing there in the first place, he knew it had something to do with the mistake of picking up his phone in a not very sober state, resulting in a few poorly-written messages that lacked any correct spelling to begin with.

What was he supposed to do in a dead end like this? His weapon was nowhere to be found, not that he could fight anyway, and he had strictly demanded to be left alone for the day so his subordinates were too far away to help him at this point.

It’s almost like he was able to feel Hibari’s boiling anger from across the room that he realized just how much of a disappointing rival he was being.

“It’s rather amusing, no? I never thought we’d find ourselves in a situation where I stand powerless in front of you.”

A sad smile spread on his face, his head leaning on the sofa’s armrest as he chuckled under his breath.

“But I’ll take your accusation for it. It’s pitiful how I fell victim to my own hands.”

hibariky

I like that for most fanfics when they introduce Hibari, it’s always some variation of:

“The fucking Hibari Kyoya”

or

“Hibari fucking Kyoya”

micronecro

my absolute favourite thing in KHR fics is Hibari just being like, A Thing, like everyone has an unspoken hot take on him and it sort of comes off as the script for Mean Girls comprised entirely of either chuck norris jokes or patronizing gags its just

the best

piccolo-uomo-leone-blog

Is Typing... | Mukuro & Tsuna

@sixxpaths

Tsuna had just pulled out his phone, he’d been worried about Chrome and reluctantly decided to ask the OTHER mist guardian if he knew anything about it. However, he’d been stopped by two things, the first was a small little notation informing him the other party he was about to message was typing, meaning Mukuro had been trying to text him. The other being Chrome finally returning his text confirming her safety, however, the text from Mukuro never came.

For a while, like, ten minutes, or so, the young tenth brushed it off as unimportant, why would Mukuro WANT to talk to him it was probably just the wrong window. However, when that ten minutes let up the brunette couldn’t shake the feeling in his stomach that it wasn’t just a coincidence or an accident.

Swallowing his fear Tsuna took out his own phone deciding to text Mukuro after all, just, not about Chrome.

[text]: Were you trying to get a hold of me?

It was simple and the other teen would probably laugh at him, but, it at least would ease some of Tsuna’s tensions when he got a reply.

mistyvariafrog-deactivated20160

Mukuro wasn’t one for texting anyone but his subordinates and the idea of doing so just seemed foolish to him. Why would he ever need all those numbers saved into his phone? The answer to the question was the situation he had gotten himself into. Everybody knew the illusionist meant only trouble and it was no different right now. Mukuro always needed to be aware of his surroundings, being a wanted criminal and all. He wasn’t sure who was after him this time but they surely weren’t friendly nor were they giving up easily.

He couldn’t text Chrome, knowing he would only put her in more danger. So it was hard for him to swallow his pride and actually attempt to contact the young Vongola, asking for his help. Before he was even finished, another attack came and Mukuro and his gang flew again.

God knows how much time had passed before they could get to safety. Exhausted from the battle, Mukuro picked up his phone once more and sent a simple reply.

“It doesn’t matter.”

#piccolo-uomo-leone

Message Received [Fran & Mukuro]

@sixxpaths

Fran allowed the smallest of frowns as he skimmed through the messages he had recently received from Mukuro. There were, of course, many of them as most of the gang preferred being as far away from Fran as possible, but a recent message had made the young illusionist pause.

Taunts, he was used to. Threats and insults just rolled off his back. So a message of genuine…concern was eye catching, to say the least. Fran sighed to himself before his fingers began tapping away at the screen.

[You shouldn’t say creepy things like that to your apprentice, Master. People might start thinking you’re a weirdo.] He replied, referring to the ‘have fun’ message he’d received before heading out on a job recently. He sent that and closed his phone, tossing it onto the bed next to him. It rested there for a minute before he reluctantly picked it back up and unlocked it.

[Isn’t that the whole point of being your apprentice? To become like you?]

mistyvariafrog-deactivated20160

Mukuro never wanted to take Fran into his own hands, not after the boy lost his memories at least. One reason being that he was useless without his knowledge about the mist flames, and the other - because Mukuro couldn’t be trusted with children, or so he thought. As time passed, the two grew close, which scared the illuionist day by day. The last thing he wanted to see is the kid adopting his traits. For all Mukuro said he hated humanity, he sure had a nurturing side to him. Fran was his second chance of seeing a childhood that wasn’t filled with death and torture, for being a kid again. So he did his best to keep the boy as pure as possible, all while training him to one day become a powerful illusionist.

“Your potential as a mist guardian has little to do with yourself as a whole. Don’t be foolish enough to make the same mistakes I did.”

Hopefully, Fran would get the memo. For Mukuro wouldn’t directly drop his guard and break down in front of him. Never would he admit his weaknesses.

After sending the text off, satisfied he had fulfilled whatever quota of empathy he’d needed for the day, he had dropped the phone back to his side. With a grunt, he managed to get the apple off his head and dropped it to the floor next to his bed. Thank God that was done for the day.

Honestly, when he had been first presented with the opportunity to train under Muuro, Fran had wanted nothing to do with it. But after a while of being here he found that he enjoyed himself. They were a lot more fun to mess with than his grandmother had ever been. He always felt guilty after with her. And hey, they could even be nice.

Sometimes.

Mostly Pineapple Girl.

Seeing the device light up again, he quickly read the message before frowning. Potential… [You’ve done some good to match those mistakes.] Was that too nice? [Big mistakes. Huge. It’s impressive you could do that.]

mistyvariafrog-deactivated20160

To say Fran annoyed him 99% of the time was an understatement. He made comments about his hair daily, didn’t take lessons seriously and then went on to cause more damage to Kokuyo Land and its inhabitants. So why was it that this child was so precious to Mukuro?

After a few minutes, his phone rang again. Another message from the brat. Mukuro’s eye twitched at the text and would have seriously gotten mad if he wasn’t used to this kind of treatment from Fran. But he found it sweet nonetheless, the way he tried to comfort the older illusionist.

Yes, he was a problem child after all. Yet he had a long way to go. Mukuro knew he meant well even after all the insults and trouble he came along with. He hummed as he sent another text.

“Appreciate it.”

#mistyvariafrog

Average Vongola Meeting

Tsuna: I need help dealing with this new Family, any thoughts?

Guardians & Varia: *all raise hands*

Tsuna: Any that don't involve murder and/or torture.

Guardians & Varia: *everyone but Mukuro lowers hands*

Mukuro: *sees everyone else put their hand down* *slowly lowers own hand*

Tsuna: *sighs*

Tsuna: Wait. If you have social anxiety... and I have social anxiety... who's going to order the pizza?

Enma:

Enma: *starts to sweat*

Message Received [Fran & Mukuro]

@sixxpaths

Fran allowed the smallest of frowns as he skimmed through the messages he had recently received from Mukuro. There were, of course, many of them as most of the gang preferred being as far away from Fran as possible, but a recent message had made the young illusionist pause.

Taunts, he was used to. Threats and insults just rolled off his back. So a message of genuine…concern was eye catching, to say the least. Fran sighed to himself before his fingers began tapping away at the screen.

[You shouldn’t say creepy things like that to your apprentice, Master. People might start thinking you’re a weirdo.] He replied, referring to the ‘have fun’ message he’d received before heading out on a job recently. He sent that and closed his phone, tossing it onto the bed next to him. It rested there for a minute before he reluctantly picked it back up and unlocked it.

[Isn’t that the whole point of being your apprentice? To become like you?]

Mukuro never wanted to take Fran into his own hands, not after the boy lost his memories at least. One reason being that he was useless without his knowledge about the mist flames, and the other - because Mukuro couldn't be trusted with children, or so he thought. As time passed, the two grew close, which scared the illuionist day by day. The last thing he wanted to see is the kid adopting his traits. For all Mukuro said he hated humanity, he sure had a nurturing side to him. Fran was his second chance of seeing a childhood that wasn't filled with death and torture, for being a kid again. So he did his best to keep the boy as pure as possible, all while training him to one day become a powerful illusionist.

"Your potential as a mist guardian has little to do with yourself as a whole. Don't be foolish enough to make the same mistakes I did."

Hopefully, Fran would get the memo. For Mukuro wouldn't directly drop his guard and break down in front of him. Never would he admit his weaknesses.

#mistyvariafrog

Hateful

Continued from here [x]

@sixxpaths

A soft chirping could be heard from the far corner of his desk and Hibari instinctively sought out his small, yellow bird. The little thing, however, was fast asleep atop the cloud guardian’s pillow.

He seemed to always forget about his phone, unless a call was coming in, in which his school’s anthem played as a ringtone, but the tone for incoming messages that had been set was a recording of Hibird’s chirping.

The teen reached for his phone and couldn’t help, but smirk at the message he’d just received from a number he refused to save into his contacts, but had somehow managed to memorize.

-

[txt]: Could I just spill your blood everywhere?

-

Hibari didn’t often like to give anyone the satisfaction of a response, but Mukuro seemed to always prove to be an exception… in some cases.

[txt] :: Do you expect me to just stand there and let you do it? You seem hopeful. As if it’s so easy. I’d be glad to show you otherwise.

Seeing Hibari answer caused a smirk to spread on his lips, knowing that the prefect rarely liked to respond to texts, especially if they were from him.

"Oh? That's not what I saw the first time we crossed paths. If I recall correctly, you were kneeling before me. But do inform me in case I've underestimated your strength."

Of course, Mukuro knew the cloud guardian was well capable of rivaling him on that matter as their fights were always a great source of entertainment. But the illusionist was too cocky to ever admit that aloud. In all honesty, he just hoped to irritate him enough to drag him back into a battle.

“Don’t talk about my scars.” [Mukuro & Chikusa]

“Don’t talk about my scars.” The text caused his heart to skip. Murkuro, too, was insecure? Mukuro, too, was hateful of his past? He shouldn’t be. He deserved better. Chikusa felt like he intruded on Mukuro, on his privacy, his life. What does he say? He can’t be comforting. He doesn’t know HOW to be. His fingers lingered over each key, painfully unsure.

“Your scars are an amazing testament to your strength. They are proof you are stronger than the past, Mukuro. They are beautiful. But, if you so wish this, okay.”

@sixxpaths

The illusionist wouldn’t listen. He hated them, he always did. He made it seem like it didn’t matter much but it always really bothered him. While they showed how far he had come, how much he had gone through, they were still the ugliest part of his body. Which is why he always preferred to wear gloves, mainly outside, because the Kokuyo Gang already knew of his past. The only people he hadn’t told yet were Fran and Chrome, but even they weren’t stupid enough to actually bring it up.

“Those scars show nothing more than how broken the world we live in is. There’s nothing beautiful about them.”

“they are beautiful because they are yours and you are beautiful. If this world is broken, the scars are a prophecy to enlighten those to who will save us. “

Chikusa sent the message. Only directly afterwards did he realize he told Mukuro he was beautiful. Thin legs rose to escort the tattooed young man towards Mukuro, his leader, his.. friend. His scars were not all scars, one was a tattoo. Along his face, unable to hide, everyone knew. There was a gentle knock at the door of Mukuro. “May I come in?”

His dampened mood prevented him from texting any further. He never saw any beauty in his scars and honestly chose to never think about them. It was only when he heard his comrade’s voice that his mind returned to reality.

“…Enter.”

Chikusa stepped in, though he did remain in the doorway. “You always tell Ken and myself that our past and our marks from it are not ugly, and how they show triumph. The same should be said you for.”

This was going out of his comfort zone. He was in Mukuro’s room, trying to speak words that were comforting to him, meaningful.

“If you can tell someone like me that my scars are beautiful and that I am beautiful.. then it very well would apply to you,” Chikusa stepped forward, staring down.

“I have been studying as to what to do.. and, the books recommend physical displays of affection,” with a brief adjustment of his glasses, he locked eyes. “Do you want a hug?”

It was rare for Mukuro to be so quiet and actually listen to what someone had to say. But he had to admit that his subordinate’s words had taken him by surprise as he now blankly stared at the floor, pondering over Chikusa’s statement. No person had ever tried to make him feel better this way and never had somebody called him beautiful before.

While he always seemed to cheer up his comrades, his own thoughts wouldn’t apply to him and he immediately rejected the idea of being normal.

However, he had thought wrong. Chikusa was now standing in the doorway, nervously waiting for the illusionist’s answer. Very rarely did Mukuro drop his guard and it was more than obvious in the situation they were in now.

He chuckled under his breath, his eyes showing off his soft side. “That sounds ridiculous…” Yet he still held out one of his arms towards the other male’s direction as he signaled him to come closer.

The way Mukuro was dead silent caused him to get anxious. Mukuro always had a witty quip. He always had something smart to say that would help ease tension or create panic in others. Never in Chikusa, but in enemies.

“..I do not understand, but it is said to provide a physical sense of comfort,” he explained awkwardly, inching his way towards him. It was so like Chikusa to read how to comfort people, make people feel better, from a book. It was so like him to try and learn from paper on a subject that was so sincerely needed to be from the heart.

But still, his arms wrapped around Mukuro’s shoulders. He, himself, smelled faintly of weed, mixed with the smell of strawberry conditioner that he always had.

The hug gave away how inexperienced Chikusa was with showing affection but it brought him joy nonetheless, although he would never admit it. He stood there, only one arm draping over his subordinate’s back as he buried his face into the boy’s shoulder. Mukuro trusted him enough to know this would stay between them and never be brought up again. He had completely given into Chikusa’s comfort by now.

And to think this all started with a simple text. Just because his scars were mentioned in a stupid conversation. Was he really that sensitive without even knowing? Why did he have to look so vulnerable? Couldn’t he at least hide it better? Those thoughts plagued his mind as he held onto Chikusa’s idle body.

A hand ran through Mukuro’s hair. “..i am sorry I am not better at this. I’ll read more books,” he gave a small smile down at Mukuro. It was rare to see him smile. Usually it was only brought out when he felt entirely clean, when Ken actually was trying to be nice and thoughtful, or when Mukuro gave a complement. Other than that, he usually looked bored. “..I promise, I will help in any way I can.” Chikusa sat himself next to Mukuro, one hand settled on the other’s. “May I see them?” He didn’t dare to look down at them yet, not with out permission.