Disclaimer: I do not own KHR.

A/N: Hello lovelies! Thank you so much for favoriting/following/reviewing! You've all been wonderful!

Warning: This chapter is quite intense and has a torture scene/implication/thing. Anyone that does not feel comfortable is absolutely free to skip it! I blame XxNoblesse12 who requested this. For those of you who really want to see Mirzoyan suffer, enjoy!

XxNoblesse12 - this is for you, my love!

Paoul Mirzoyan couldn't help thinking that life was very good at the moment.

He was seated at his opulent dining hall, eating his favorite meal – boudin blanc au Calvados, while music played in the background. A glass of fine Tuscan wine was in front of him, and he swirled it in his hand as he contemplated his last dealing.

Mirzoyan thought himself a very cunning man.

His informant had contacted him a while earlier saying that the target had been reached and the drug was working masterfully.

Mirzoyan grinned sadistically as he imagined the great Vongola Decimo reduced to spasming pathetically in pain, his body contorting in suffering, his nerves more wasted with every second. His insides would be eating at him. There would be fire in his blood, blood in his lungs, and slowly disintegrating internal organs. The torture would never abate, yet the victim would sometimes think it was lessening, that it might finally stop, only for it to renew its efforts in bringing the victim to wish for death. Mirzoyan smiled, aroused. The image gave him a hard on.

If only there was some way to watch it…

Mirzoyan chuckled into his glass.

That weak civilian who was ruining his human trafficking business was finally paying… And then he'd die and Mirzoyan would become the boss of the strongest Mafia famiglia.

There was no way his plan would fail.

He had planned for everything.

The shooter he used was one he hired anonymously, and who was very good at what he did. The torture drug had been delivered anonymously as well, left inside the agreed upon location for the shooter to later come find. The scientists involved in the making of the drug were all carefully monitored. The note he sent Vongola was typed and had no sending address. There was nothing that could be traced back to him.

All they knew about the culprit was that he was called "The Pharmacist".

Mirzoyan cackled as he thought of his chosen codename. He was sure the idiots back at Vongola were running around uselessly in a flurry, cursing out their inability to find who "The Pharmacist" was.

Mirzoyan had planned alternatives.

Had the drug missed its intended target and hit the Russian mafia don, then the strongest mafia syndicate in Russia would go to war with Vongola, weakening both of the great powers and making it easier for Mirzoyan to annihilate both of them afterwards.

And if the drug struck its true target, as it had, then not only would the Decimo suffer immensely, but Mirzoyan could threaten Vongola into disbanding. The Decimo's life in exchange for the death of the strongest mafia organization.

Ordinarily, this sort of tactic would not work. The mafia was not the type of place that would change so drastically to protect only one man. That was too innocent. No mafia famiglia would disband just to protect their boss. They'd probably kill him to stop his suffering and appoint the next heir as the boss.

No mafia famiglia except the Vongola, that is.

It was no secret how close the Vongola people were. While other mafia syndicates used the word "famiglia" loosely, the Vongola took it to an entire new level. The Decimo, his guardians, the Arcobaleno, and even the Vongola workers would all indubitably risk their lives for one another. They cared for each other in a way that made implanting people to spy on the Decimo result in either the spy vanishing mysteriously, or converting to Tsunaism.

Most people saw this closeness as a strength, but Mirzoyan knew better.

It would be Vongola's downfall.

They cared too much.

That was their weakness.

And Mirzoyan felt no shame in exploiting it.

Initially, he had thought about poisoning the Vongola Decimo Guardians. First, it would have been easier for the Vongola Decimo himself to disband all of Vongola than his guardians. Second, the guardians were much less protected than the Decimo, and there were more opportunities for attack. Third, he had not been sure if his plan to target the Decimo would work, as there had been an ever-growing myth amongst the mafia that it was impossible to do anything other than exactly what the Vongola Decimo wanted you to do. And if you attempted to shoot him when the Vongola Decimo did not want to be shot, then the bullet would not even graze him.

But he did not even contemplate targeting the Guardians for all of five seconds.

The world knew better than to target the Vongola Decimo's guardians.

Mirzoyan took a moment to remember the idiots who had attempted to kidnap the Vongola's youngest guardian in the middle of a ball. He shuddered, remembering what had happened to them.

The Vongola Decimo was vicious to those who hurt his beloved guardians.

No, targeting the guardians was not an option.

The Russian mafia don took another sip of his wine, looking into the liquid and finding his reflection looking back at him.

The Decimo on the other hand… Mirzoyan imagined him again, twisting and turning, his body on fire as he tried and failed to rip his own skin off. He might even gouge out his own eyes out of pain, it had happened to a few of the others he had tested the drug on. All the while the pathetic Vongola desperately worked for a cure.

Not that a cure did exist. Mirzoyan snorted. He had ordered his scientist to invent the torture drug to make it impossible to create a cure.

The Vongola Decimo needed to die. He was one of those people that, even stripped of all of his titles and powers and belongings, was still someone immensely influential that would somehow manage to rise back up again despite it all. Doubtlessly, should Mirzoyan allow the young Vongola to live, he would somehow come back into power and kill the Russian mafia don.

That just wouldn't do.

So Mirzoyan hadn't made a cure. But he did have a good pretend cure that would make the suffering abate for three days, before the accumulated power of the drug suddenly came back with renewed vengeance. The sudden onslaught of pain was fatal, as the body was physically incapable of handling that much pain at once, and the subject would immediately die.

It had happened to every subordinate he tried it on (An unfortunate waste of his resources, but necessary).

So caught up in his ruminating, Mirzoyan almost didn't notice the deadly silence in the room.

His music had stopped. He couldn't hear the sound of the servants' footsteps outside. He could not even hear the rustle of the drapes against the window, or the hum of the heater running, or even the everyday noises that came with life.

It was as if all the sound had been sucked out of the room.

As he sat looking at his reflection in the wine glass, Mirzoyan felt a heavy pressure invade his senses.

Almost hesitantly, as though afraid of what he might find, Mirzoyan looked up from his wine glass.

And there, standing before him, were the Vongola Decimo Guardians.

For a second, Mirzoyan panicked.

What were they doing here? How did they know it was him? He had made sure to leave absolutely no traces! There was no way this incident could be traced back to him!

Damn, he should have considered that Vongola would have alternate, more effective methods. But there was no way they'd have definite proof.

And Vongola was famous for its mercy. If they weren't certain that he was the culprit, then they wouldn't kill him. Mirzoyan was sure of it.

"Vongola guardians! Welcome, welcome to my humble abode! What a pleasant surprise to see you here!"

He received no response, only silence.

All seven guardians just stared at him, expressionless. Their eyes were dead, as though they had suffered through some great ordeal and everything else was beneath that.

That was strange. He had not interacted with Vongola much, but even he had heard that the Vongola were notoriously incapable of being quiet. They were constantly shouting, laughing, arguing, causing explosions and whatnot.

If he were being completely honest, the absolute silence was unnerving.

Mirzoyan started to get a little anxious. The chilling gazes he was receiving indicated that they were certain that he was the culprit, despite all of the careful measures he took to remain hidden. He only did himself a disservice by pretending otherwise.

Well, it didn't matter.

He had the ultimate advantage.

They thought he had the cure.

Abandoning all pretenses, Mirzoyan struck a confident pose, cocky smirk on his face.

"I suppose you came to try to get the antidote from me. I'm surprised you could be so foolish."

The guardians completely ignored his commentary. Instead, they slowly approached him in disturbing synchrony, and Mirzoyan resisted the urge to take a step back. He felt oddly like prey being hunted by seven much bigger predators.

He would not let these children intimidate him. He was the one in control of the situation, not them.

"All I can say is – I promise you now, if you lay one finger on me, you'll never have the cure."

Still, the guardians remained silent, continuing to advance towards the Russian.

Mirzoyan looked to the Vongola Decimo's stoic right-hand man. His eyes were hard and like two chips of ice. The rest of his body betrayed no emotion whatsoever, and he wasn't responding to any of what Mirzoyan was saying.

Isn't he supposed to be super hot-headed? Where did this personality shift come from?

Suddenly, a sword embedded itself in the wall near Mirzoyan's head.

Mirzoyan stared incomprehensively at it, as though he could not believe it was actually there.

"W- WHAT ARE YOU DOING? YOU NEARLY KILLED ME!"

At the continued lack of reactions exhibited by any of the guardians, Mirzoyan felt the need to clear some things up. The guardians obviously didn't know how to play this game.

"YOU NEED ME! IF YOU WANT TO MAKE THAT BOSS OF YOURS STOP SUFFERING THEN YOU CANNOT KILL ME!"

The female Mist guardian looked at him with pure revulsion in her visible eye. Calmly, she stated, "You will not die tonight." She almost seemed happy about this.

It was when he suddenly found himself strapped to his chair by the female guardian that he realized exactly what they would be doing. Next to him, the youngest of the guardians he recognized as the Lightning Guardian was setting up what looked to be a video-recorder.

"Wait! Wait! You are not even giving me time to talk!"

This was all going so fast- they weren't even trying to get the antidote out of him through negotiation! This was not what he had heard Vongola was like! They were supposed to always talk and negotiate first, and torture was simply not something they did!

"Talk?" The Rain guardian laughed. "What makes you think we want you to talk after all you've done?"

Mirzoyan was confused. Why were they all speaking in riddles? Of course they wanted him to talk, they wanted to know where the antidote was!

The Russian mafia don was livid. This was not how it was supposed to happen! He was supposed to always have the upper hand. They were not supposed to know he was the one that had ordered the Vongola Decimo's torture, not supposed to know where he lived, not supposed to know anything!

"If you continue like this that pathetic excuse you call a boss is going to die! I will never tell you about the cure!" Mirzoyan snarled. They needed to remember what position he held.

Suddenly, the atmosphere in the room became much more oppressive. Mirzoyan could feel the killing glares of every one of the Vongola guardians. Their rage at the mention of the Vongola Decimo's suffering, and potential death, was suffocating. It made him hesitate a bit, but with renewed confidence possessed only by someone who knows they have something the other desperately needs, he sneered at them.

Gokudera slowly turned his head towards the man strapped to the dining hall chair. "What did you say about Juudaime?"

Certain that they would not kill him as they needed him to cure their boss, Mirzoyan was not cowed by the intense atmosphere. He snarled. "Your boss is a pathetic, weak civilian who doesn't deserve to lead the strongest mafia famiglia! And if you don't unhand me now, he will never receive the cure!"

Had they not been so livid, they might have shot Mirzoyan pitying looks. "We don't want your cure, Mirzoyan. We are not here for that," Gokudera grinned at Mirzoyan's lost expression. Didn't want the cure? What did they mean by that? But then, what were they here for?

"No, we're going to make you scream just because we want to hear the sound."

Looking into the Vongola Decimo's right hand man's eyes, Mirzoyan felt true terror for the first time that night. Never had he seen such fury, such bloodthirstiness, such hatred in the eyes of another human being. This man loathed him with an indescribable passion for what Mirzoyan had done to the Vongola Decimo. This man- all he wanted was to make Mirzoyan suffer as much as possible.

"Why do you think it took us so long to come here for you?" The Vongola Storm guardian calmly questioned. "We received a call indicating where you were hours ago. We just had to wait for the antidote to be successfully administered before coming to get you."

"Boss has been cured and will be waking up soon. Scum like you could never keep him down." The female Mist guardian continued, an almost feverish look in her eyes from having to sit by her beloved sky as he suffered for hours on end.

"So we came here just for you. Don't you feel special, Mirzoyan?" This time it was the Rain guardian who spoke, expressionless face morphing into a violent smile that sent shivers down Mirzoyan's spine. As he spoke, he placed a large black case on the dining table in front of Mirzoyan. "You've done some pretty bad things, Mirzoyan. Unforgivable things." He opened released a clasp on the side of the case, opening it to reveal several syringes inside. The smile disappeared from his face as he abruptly turned to the tied Russian. His pupils were dilated and his gaze was on something far away, as though he was living a nightmare. "But your biggest mistake was hurting Tsuna."

In a moment, the Rain Guardian was back to the present, looking at Mirzoyan again. "And, you see, Tsuna's a popular guy. Luckily for him, he's close friends with some really intelligent people who are good with poisons. And once we told them we were coming here, they insisted on giving us this." The Rain Guardian held up a syringe full of deathly black substance, grinning maniacally all the while. "We've been very excited to test it out."

The Rain Guardian explained, "They say that it hurts ten times more than the other torture drug. It also stops your body from automatically killing you should the pain be too much. Wouldn't want you to be able to die too soon, you know?"

"But first," The male Mist Guardian started, his left eye shifting rapidly between various numbers, "before resorting to this new artificial stuff, we'd like to go at it the old-fashioned way. Makes it more personal, you know?" He gave what in any other situation would have been a charming grin, but in this one just inspired terror.

Mirzoyan trembled in his seat.

The Lightning Guardian clicked play on the recorder.

"What- What is the recorder for?"

Lambo looked at the disgusting man in front of him. Paoul Mirzoyan. The one responsible for making Tsuna-nii be tortured for hours on end.

Even having to talk with the man was repulsive. He knew Ryohei, contrary to his normally boisterous self, had decided not to say a thing to the man.

Lambo didn't blame him. He felt dirtier just looking at him. But, Lambo figured if the talk would make Mirzoyan more afraid, more pained, then it would be worth it. "So that all can see what happens to those who hurt Tsuna."

"You're making an example out of me?"

Lambo nodded curtly.

Behind him, he heard Mukuro speak, "Your mutilated corpse will be the guest of honor at our next ball."

Lambo knew that definitely wasn't true, if only because Kyoko and Hana would think it of supremely bad taste, but the idea was the same. All of their enemies would watch this and see what happened to those who hurt Tsuna. They would be sure not repeat Mirzoyan's mistake.

The guardians were doing them a favor, really.

Mirzoyan shifted his bindings so that he could reach the red button under his chair. Finally, with a last effort, he managed to press it.

There, reinforcements should be coming.

The Vongola guardians were strong, but they were only seven. They would not be able to hold against hundreds of his men that were posted here.

The guardians were clearly still inexperienced at this. They should have kidnapped Mirzoyan and dealt with him somewhere in Vongola headquarters, or anywhere other than in Mirzoyan's dining hall, where he was surrounded by his men.

Even if they had successfully infiltrated the base, fighting off all of its men was an entirely different story.

"You seem to be waiting for something, Mirzoyan. I do not like this hopeful look." The male Mist Guardian stated. "But don't worry, in a few moments it will come right off!"

Mirzoyan smiled confidently. His men should be here in a few seconds.

"Once my men arrive, you will all die." He stated confidently. Then, he turned to the pretty female Mist guardian. "Except for you, girl. You will be used as their toy for days before being sold. I'm sure you'll fetch a pretty price at the market."

The Cloud guardian imbedded a steel tonfa into his gut with such force that Mirzoyan coughed out blood.

"You are making this even harder for yourself, Mirzoyan." The female Mist guardian in question told him. She seemed supremely unaffected by his threats, much to his ire.

"All of your men are dead. It only took 10 minutes to kill all the men posted here." The Mist Guardian said in pure delight. He gave a savage grin. "As we speak, Vongola is destroying all of your bases, even that rather well hidden one in Alaska."

Mirzoyan lost all color.

"That's right, Mirzoyan." The male Mist guardian whispered into his ear.

"No one can save you now."

Upon realizing that the Vongola guardians did not need the cure and that his men were not coming to rescue him, Mirzoyan despaired.

Looking at these guardians, he felt true fear. Their desire to harm him was palpable. He saw his own death in their eyes in a thousand different ways, and he was terrified.

Mirzoyan knew that they loved their boss. Everyone knew that the Vongola Decimo was adored. But surely having him suffer for a few hours was not enough to elicit such a response? The guardians seemed crazed!

Standing in front of him, leaning nonchalantly against the dining hall table, the Vongola Storm was smoking a cigarette. He breathed out a puff of smoke into Mirzoyan's face before speaking,

"Put one hand on the table."

The female Mist guardian loosened the bonds on his right hand, and he put the appendage on the table, too scared to do anything else. Soon, his hand was chained to the table at the risk, making it impossible to move.

"Now, say what you said before." The Storm ordered.

"W-What did I-I say?"

"I believe you had some strong opinions regarding Juudaime."

"N-No… I didn't mean-"

"SAY IT!" The Storm guardian snarled, and Mirzoyan tripped over himself to do as he commanded.

"T-The Vongola Decimo is a pathetic, weak civilian who doesn't deserve to lead."

"Was that so hard?" The Storm asked, almost gently, before looking over to the Rain.

The Rain guardian's reaction was immediate. Using his sword, he chopped off a thumb from Mirzoyan's right hand.

Mirzoyan yelled in pain, watching horrified as blood pour out of his wound. He tried to free his hand from the bonds chaining it to the table, but only rubbed his wrist raw.

"YOU FUCKER! I JUST DID WHAT YOU TOLD ME TO!"

"I know." Gokudera calmly replied, looking unimpressed at Mirzoyan's reaction. "Say it again."

"W-What?"

"Say it again."

Slowly, lazily, realization dawned on Mirzoyan.

He turned imploringly to Gokudera. "N-No. No, please!"

"This was not a request. It was an order."

Gokudera looked deeply into Mirzoyan's eyes, and the Russian was terrified by what he found there. There was anger, but most of all there was a deep-seated hatred for the man who had harmed his beloved boss. And he would do anything to punish him.

"Now," Gokudera continued. "Say it again."

Mirzoyan said it many more times that night.

Looking at the whimpering mess of a man before him, the Vongola guardians could not find it in themselves to pity him.

Mirzoyan was lying in a pool of his own blood, missing every single finger and toe. His right eye had exploded, as had his left ear, and several ribs had been cracked from either punches or tonfa blows. His whole body spasmed occasionally, an aftereffect of the electric shocks he had been subjected to.

The man's mind was currently reliving one of his worst nightmares, trapped inside one of Hell's layers.

It was a pathetic sight, and ordinarily one that would have revolted them, but that day they felt no sympathy.

He deserved it all.

How dare he torture Tsuna?

Their boss.

Their friend.

Their sky.

He deserved every bit of what they had thrown at him and more.

Still looking at what remained of Mirzoyan, Gokudera took a smoke from his cigarette. The itching need to have Mirzoyan suffer horribly and die had abated somewhat, but Mirzoyan wasn't even close to finished. As he looked around to his fellow guardians' faces, he knew they felt the same way.

You just don't mess with the Vongola's sky.

As he thought this, there was a knock on the door. With silent footsteps, Basil and another Vongola worker came in. If Basil was shocked at the sight, he didn't show it. Instead, there was an upward turn to his lips that indicated he was quite satisfied with Mirzoyan's sorry state.

Basil turned to the guardians, "You all need to go now. We'll take care of the rest."

"Yeah, we know." Gokudera took another deep breath of smoke before droppin the cigarette and putting it out. Gesturing to Mirzoyan, he said, "Bind him and gag him – don't want the bastard to bite his tongue off and die on us. It's the Varia's turn to have him next. Tell them to film what they do to him as well."

The Vongola worker immediately set to work, paying careful attention to the black case with more of the torture drug inside.

But the Vongola guardians didn't see. As soon as Gokudera had finished telling Basil what to do, they were out the door and heading back to Venice. Not a second was wasted.

Tsuna would wake up soon.

A/N: Next chapter is Tsuna finally waking up! It will be much more fluffy and nice! I'm sorry to any who felt offended/uncomfortable with this chapter.