This story is a slight AU on the anime episode 203, which I've finally gotten the nerve to watch, when Tsuna is basically about to incinerate Byakuran and the white-haired bad guy remembers and reflects. I ship 27100, so sue me. Accidentally deleted this earlier in case you recognize it. Possibly confusing if you don't remember the final battle.

I gots a lot to learn,
But I learn a lot, I'm not concerned.
You've got a lot of burns
From all this pessimisy you said
Miscommunication.
Miss, you've got me waiting.
And I'm shaking
Emotions, dislocated.

Everything is a game, and Byakuran is the only one who knows how to play. There are no instructions. His every leisure is sanctioned by fate, and each of his sins are awarded with points- little advantages that he can and will use. He has god given aims of his own twisted heart; goals for a future more wretched than he is. He wants to win. He needs to win.

He's enjoyed the game. He truly has. It's fun and it's evil and it's cruel, but it's only a game. There are limitations. Sometimes he loses all his lives, and has to start again, but it never deters him. No one has beaten the game, but he knows he will. Everyone around him are just NPCs- mindless beings, gifted thought by a blackened society and influenced by irreverent morals. They breathe just as he does, and hunger and thirst- but they don't hunger for a world worth living in, or thirst for a justice ungodly.

They are mere cogs in one of many clocks. No matter how many opportunities they're so graciously offered, they choose to remain hidden in their depraved society. Their ghosts of who they could be, and he nearly hates them. Sometimes, when he meets some peccable soul with ideals that would dull the sun in comparison, he feels a warmth in his chest. Empathy, he realizes, is a sweet beguile.

But beguile is deceptive, so the warmth turns to pain as he watches that spirit fall. Their mouths open in confusion, eyes wide in horror and they always call out his name.

"Byakuran" is their last word, because no matter how conditioned they are to expect this grey betrayal… they always hope.

They hope that he won't. They hope that he cares. They hope that they're special.

Hope is a lie, he knows, and that's why Byakuran never 'hopes'. He aims, and he achieves. He wins.

He's not sure why he's currently dabbling in world domination. Maybe it's because he's evil, or perhaps that hallow feeling in him that something was missing dragged him to a dark desperation, in which he decided that his mundane existence was nothing without that incorrupt being.

He'll kill for the liberty of content, he promises.

It's relatively simple. There are three main characters- himself, a doll named Yuni, and a fool called Tsunayoshi. He likes to think he's the strongest, but even if he isn't he's been endowed with the highest precedence of having the doll as his toy. He makes her walk, and talk, and it's perfect.

Dolls aren't alive. They don't have opinions, or dreams, or those disgusting morals- but Yuni's a broken doll, so he can no longer play with her. He's sure he can fix her, if he's given the time, but the fool is none so generous.

Young Tsunayoshi is stronger than he initially expected. Not strong enough, of course. His eyes are dim with the fire of a tired resolve.

He's sad, Byakuran thinks, and his laugh is maniacal. He's sad because everyone he loves is going to die and I'm going to make him watch!

Then Yuni dies, and the joke isn't funny anymore.

He can't bring himself to understand the new flames in the boy's vibrant orbs. This newly found tenacity is an adrenaline-born abhorrence. Tsunayoshi cries out that he won't forgive him, and Byakuran now laughs even harder.

"Your desire to attack me is nothing but a temporary rush of humanistic emotion!" he tells the naïve boy. And Byakuran believes it. The kid didn't hate him. He couldn't hate him. "An expression of self-satisfaction!"

This boy is a textbook sample of a society-groomed human. Morals and ideals have been thrust at him since birth, and all a mere child can do is swallow these paragons. He'll grow up and hand these archetypes to his children, and they'll someday do the same. He's boring, Byakuran thinks, so damn lifeless.

He's just like everyone else.

So Byakuran taunts him and his romantic reverie. Doesn't the boy understand? They're the only ones left. Humanity was a mere backdrop to decorate the world. They laced falsehoods and sold them to the foolish. He has long since given up on this veiled world.

The game is almost over, and Byakuran has to face the Boss. He should've known that the good guys always win, as soon as the newly blinding X-Burner alights with reborn vigor.

And now these violent flames kiss his face and he struggles to keep his eyes open, yet he stares straight at this Decimo.

The boy, now at second glance, seems all the more interesting. He's still a fool, but he has power behind his words and people to catch him if he falls. He doesn't need to win this fight. Byakuran is already beat, he knows. But the Vongola doesn't need Byakuran- and now he wishes Tsunayoshi would.

There's something wrong with this world. He meets the boy's eyes, pondering whether he would agree.

Sawada Tsunayoshi looks sad, Byakuran notices again, and nearly smiles.

Ah, he thinks, so you understand. You understand... too well. Ha!

In the seconds before he turns to forlorn ashes, Byakuran is at last bequeathed content. He has finally found the missing something that was haunting him so long, and he knows that Tsunayoshi has realized it too. Before those beautiful flames engulf him, the last thing he sees are the knowing tears gathering in the Vongola's heartsick eyes- a melancholy meant only for him. His lips are charred in a relieved grin.

Does this mean you win, Tsunayoshi? he wonders, as his smile is decayed in the flames... No.

We all lose.

Fake apologies
Can I just call it quits,
I can't take all of this
Fighting all of me
I want a second chance,
But I'm so broken
And I've got a lot to learn,
But it's okay I'm not concerned,
No…

Okay, I'm concerned.

- Get Scared, Problematic