A/N: I have very little know-how on writing Mukuro&co, so please excuse my floundering around as I BS this to the nth degree. Wordcount is ~7.6k

Chapter 8

It was a bond born from necessity, strengthened over time—turned to undying loyalty and an unspoken trust.

He had reached out to them with war in his eyes and a vendetta in his heart, an indomitable force that left destruction in his wake. He promised a world free of corruption, one without the vile scum that had made them. He promised retribution and an end to the world that had shaped them. He called to them, offered justice, and they followed.

They battled, they killed, they conquered, and they had swept across the mafia as the underworld's bogeymen, despite their young ages.

But they were stopped. After tearing down numerous organized groups of trained, experienced mafiosi, they were stopped by a child their own age. And they were dragged back to their prisons, kept under careful watch, their jailers more stringent than they had been.

He watched him. Sawada Tsunayoshi, they all kept a fraction of their attention on him, as he himself tore through the mafia world.

(Reluctantly. Always reluctant, but victorious nonetheless.)

They watched their boss change. He took in an injured girl, sheltered her under his influence, accepted her into their ragtag group. He battled for Vongola time and time again through her, helping her, helping them, under the guise of it all playing to his long-term plan.

It wasn't a lie in the beginning. But that slowly ebbed away with each battle, each new foe, each new struggle. He watched Sawada Tsunayoshi, and they watched him.

Years later, they are still with him. They still follow him, their leader, who promised them the world. His lust for vengeance against a corrupt world has ebbed and condensed to a small focal point, something he has found worth in and quietly protects with the same fervor he once held with destruction at his fingertips.

They do not mind. They had followed less because of the promises and more because it was him, even in her case. She had not joined until after they had escaped from death at the hands of the Vindice, but she, too, followed because of the will he embodies.

And when they become an issue, they still do not budge. They follow him to the heart of battle, vowing to follow him even into the pits of hell should he ask. They follow despite Sawada telling them not to.

They fall, one by one, with Ken being the first, M.M. next, and Chikusa last.

They see terror and vengeance and a promise of war reignite in their boss' eyes as they fade into the darkness, and it is with the quiet relief that he will not be extinguished, cannot be defeated. Not with those eyes, not with his will of the dying.

They believe in him. Because even though they may respect Sawada Tsunayoshi for holding his favor, their loyalty has and will always be solely with Mukuro.

Iemitsu smiles down at his adoring wife with relief and happiness filling him.

He had been worried. It was rare for him to leave work—he hardly allowed himself to take vacations from his work to see his growing son let alone to verify a small worry—but it was even rarer for Nana to call and sound so… Distressed.

When Iemitsu received that phone call, he'd immediately been on guard due to that fact that it was something disturbing to even his wife—Nana, the love of his life, who is a bit easygoing and airheaded—and considering it was in regards to their son who Timoteo only recently decided to have Reborn train, Iemitsu had quickly made his way over to Japan.

In hindsight, "worried" wasn't really a strong enough word to describe what he had felt, however.

The possibilities were endless. Even though Primo had managed to settle in Namimori with little fuss, and despite there being insurances just in case some dissenting famiglia got ideas, there was always the worry that he would overlook something. That some hostile famiglia would be able to trace the Primo's line, or trace Iemitsu's family from him, and put his wife and son in danger.

Timoteo had noticed and, bless him, allowed Iemitsu to fly to Japan so he could personally check that his wife and son were okay.

Everything is all right, however. A few background checks on that kid—the weird one that apparently liked wearing his school uniform even on the weekends, Hibari Kyōya—revealed a connection to the Storm Arcobaleno but one that he himself is mostly unaware of, and his immediate family is uninvolved with the mafia and triads entirely.

Strong with good instincts he may be, what matters is that he is civilian, and therefore the likelihood of his association putting Tuna-fish in danger is low.

(In fact, his association with him is a good thing—he is strong, and if Tsuna is under his watch to the point of him coming here to check on him, then it's just added insurance. Maybe he'll be pulled into the family once Reborn arrives? He would definitely make a powerful ally for Vongola, that's certain.)

Iemitsu had done a thorough sweep of the area as well, and aside from the remnants of a yakuza group, he found no traces of anything worrying. Even though he hadn't actually had the chance to see his Tuna-fish, his worries are more or less abated with the absence of an actual threat looming over the horizon. Whatever it is that had worried Nana is something civilian, he's sure.

There's no outside group trying to threaten his family and he's spent enough time here. He needs to return to help prepare. Nono will be sending Reborn to Japan very soon, and Iemitsu needs to be in Italy to help finalize the arrangements before Xanxus' little group of misfits finds out.

"Well," Iemitsu says regretfully, giving his wife a sturdy hug. "I better go now before everyone starts worrying."

She returns the embrace with a small smile. "Oh, Tsu-kun will be so disappointed he missed you! Are you sure you have to go back to work?"

Iemitsu heaves an exaggerated sigh into her hair. "Yes. I'm sorry honey but we're in a dire place now at work. And you know, a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do." He kisses her cheek. "I'll be sure to send more postcards! And gifts!"

Nana lets out an airy giggle. "All right dear, you go back to work and make your family proud."

Iemitsu's smile falters a bit at that, but he quickly lets out a barking laugh as he embraces his wife once more for good measure.

Her statement is true enough, and if things work out, Tsuna will, too.

Almost absentmindedly, Tsuna lifts a hand to knead into his diaphragm.

The mist flames that hover leave a heavy, cloying ball of something distinctly unpleasant in his chest, and it feels like a physical knot in his lungs. The fog is familiar but it isn't the same. Instead of the flames being woven to protect and hide them (as he is used to, as they feel like they have always been) they are directed at him, because he is the perceived threat.

The pain he had felt from his friends' deaths has been numbed to a dull ache with time and acceptance, only giving him the occasional night terror due to just how their lives had ended, but the guarded mistrust that these four direct at him is vastly different from the detached curiosity that he has dealt with up until now. It's been nearly an hour of this utter silence and oppressive weight of distrust.

Tsuna heaves a breath through the unpleasant tightness in his chest and halts his steps. He spins on his heel and asks, "are you going to ask, or are you going to continue trying to dissect me with your eyes?"

The group is stopped several feet back. Ken and Chikusa stand on either side of Mukuro, who affects a brief look of surprise before grinning.

"Well, if you are willing to answer, then I am all ears." But then the smile falls away, and an uncharacteristic look of seriousness takes its place. "Why did you negotiate for our release?"

Tsuna stares unblinkingly at Mukuro, long enough for the other three to start fidgeting. He shrugs. "I'd like you guys to be my friends."

Mukuro's eyelid twitches as the others aim looks with varying levels of skepticism at him. Unsurprisingly, when he takes a step towards them, they all visibly bristle at the shortening distance between them.

The mental image of a hissing Uri briefly flashes through Tsuna's mind, even as he lifts his arms in a placating gesture. "I'm not going to hurt you, I'm just going to release you from your cuffs."

"What makes you think we won't kill you and leave?"

Tsuna aims a look that statement deserves at Mukuro. "... While I don't doubt that you would try, I'll tell you now: it'll be more than a little futile."

Ken opens his mouth, no doubt something impulsive and insulting, but a sharp look from Mukuro silences him.

Tsuna ignores the byplay as he taps his wrists, staring pointedly at the shackles. "So. Cuffs?"

Mukuro narrows his eyes at him, a tight grin in place. "We would be foolish to reject an invitation for freedom."

Tsuna holds his hands out, palms up, and allows them to walk up to him instead of the other way around. He directs his flames to a point to weaken the cuffs and snaps them off one by one. It's a definite plus that aside from intense staring or annoyed grumbling, none of the others think to disturb the process.

When the last of the metal shackles is dropped unceremoniously in the snow, Mukuro rubs his wrists, expression thoughtful. "... Even the Vindice bowed to you. Who exactly do you have the support of, and what threat are you holding over their heads?"

"No they didn't, I pretty much have no one at the moment, and there was no threat." Tsuna nudges the rusted metal with his foot, absently wondering if they're made of a plain metal or have flame conducting properties. It would've been nice if they did. "A promise, yes, but no threat."

Ken wrinkles his nose, looking between Tsuna and Mukuro. "But you're just a kid—"

His words cut off with a loud sneeze.

Tsuna blinks, unslings his bag and starts rummaging through it.

"What are you doing?"

The intense stare Mukuro aims at him is ignored as Tsuna pulls out the bundle of winter-wear that he had stripped his closet of before leaving. "Clothes. I brought clothes because only an idiot would think that you guys would have anything that would be anywhere near sufficient for traversing the Alps. You guys will freeze to death if we try to go through the mountains in what you're wearing."

He casts a look over the group and frowns. "... I'm glad I brought shoes."

M.M. and Ken are quick to grab the offered clothing, even though the former aims a noticeably scornful look at the items. Tsuna takes a moment of quiet amusement to note how far from intimidating they all look with his teenaged-self's clothes on.

"... These aren't enough," Chikusa says blandly, even as he puts on the clothes over the thin cotton prison material he's wearing. "The chances of us dying out here are still high."

Tsuna glances to him before standing, slinging the strap of his bag over his shoulder. "I think I might already know the answer, but do any of you know how to utilize your flames for basic heat generation? Like a normal fire?"

When the only response he gets are blank stares, he closes his eyes and wills his flames to life. They flare brightly, melting the snow around him and making the other four tense, and Tsuna grimaces as he reels them back.

He turns to regard them. "Stick close to me, then."

They hesitate, but when they start moving it's at a slightly closer radius than before.

"You use your flames rather freely."

Tsuna kicks a stray rock the size of his fist to the side. Someone might trip on it, otherwise.

"It'd be simple for us to catch you when you're off guard, you know."

He ignores the comment, offering M.M. a hand to step up on the sloped ridge. It's an impulsive maneuver after years of European etiquette drilled into him via Reborn, and she slaps his hand away with a venomous look before hopping up onto the ridge herself.

"That output of flames will exhaust you at some point, no doubt before we make it to any town. And the fatigue in your posture is clear to read."

Tsuna pauses to note the very much not inconspicuous mist flames in the air creating a fog around them, and smiles. "I don't really have a shortage of flames. My will is far more powerful than you likely think, and the strain I feel is from trying to keep myself from becoming a human bonfire—not from being low on flames."

He turns to regard Mukuro a bit blandly. "I'm stressed, tired, and emotionally drained from a long day, but don't take that for a weakness of will. I wouldn't be out here in the Alps if that were even remotely the case."

The air snaps.

Ken blurs past Tsuna as he takes a step back, dodging the attack. Chikusa and M.M. charge at him too, the former awkward and the latter uncertain. He spins to the side and avoids their onslaught of attacks, deflecting and dodging.

"Whoosh!" Hands curled like claws strike out towards him, and he ducks again. Another swipe, another dodge and deflection. "Hyaha, too scared to try and fight back?! You cowar—"

Tsuna grabs an arm and twists, spinning on his heel to toss the teen at the snarling mist constructs he can hear forming behind him. Ken lets out a pained yelp as he lands harshly on his arm and slides several meters away, the mist dispersing for the moment.

He ducks a kick from behind and shoves himself backwards, jamming his elbow into Chikusa's chest before spinning around to slam his fist into the same area. He grabs M.M.'s wrist as she tries to attack him, kicks her legs out from under her and throws her towards Chikusa.

They get up and attempt to attack him again, of course. Tsuna focuses less on actually attacking and more on using their own movements against them, letting momentum and gravity to most of the work. A few times he catches himself preparing for an instinctive retaliatory attack or letting his flames grow too intense, and he is reminded that this is why he needs to have more spars.

Tsuna has less of a fighting style and more of an aptitude to adapt in battle situations, and due to his family growing steadily stronger over the years, he learned to adopt both agile and heavy-hitting styles relying on strength, speed, and stamina. But he has a smaller, weaker frame than when he had been in his twenties, and he is not fighting with the intent to kill or seriously injure. If he lets himself fall into habit, "serious injury" is a risk for both the others and himself. Deflection and conservation of energy used offensively is his best bet.

(He doesn't attempt to reason through to them, either. He knows them well enough to know that talking will get him nowhere at the moment, both in that the four of them have been locked up for a while and need an outlet both physically and emotionally.)

A sudden sense of wrong mixed with right invades his thoughts, slowing his movements, making the sharp colors of the world blur, and then—

"Stop."

The command is spoken softly, victoriously. He can see the sneered smile and glowing eyes in his peripherals, one tinted indigo and the other a blazing red.

Tsuna takes a moment to take a clear, gusty breath, and lets Mist flames flare out in a powerful pulse. Mukuro's slack-jawed expression is downright comical but he ignores it, ducking low as he darts closer and striking outwards with a kick.

Mukuro snaps out of his surprise a moment before the attack connects, and instead of Tsuna's foot meeting his face like he had intended, his attack is caught by Mukuro's trident and deflected away. Tsuna lets the momentum carry him and dodges out of the path of the polearm's prongs.

He feints to the side just before he lashes out with his left hand, aiming for the temple but slamming into Mukuro's face instead. He staggers as he holds a hand over his bruised eye, visible eye promising murder.

I misjudged that, Tsuna thinks with a wince, dodging the trident thrust in his direction. Sorry.

He flares out his flames once more, and Mukuro shields his eyes as he ducks low, anticipating an attack from the ground again.

But instead of attacking, Tsuna jumps, hand grasping the hood of Mukuro's borrowed jacket, and he lands on him. Hard.

Mukuro lets out a strained wheeze through the snow and gravel that his cheek is pressed against.

Tsuna scans the area, noting the conditions of the other three. They're spread out, with Ken hugging his limp arm close, Chikusa laid out on his side, and M.M. struggling to stand.

He frowns. ...Sloppy. I might have used too much force on them. I shouldn't expect my abilities to be up to par with what I had before, but I clearly need to work a fair bit more.

Mukuro shifts from underneath him, letting out a pained hiss. "You… You can use Mist flames?"

Instead of answering, Tsuna lifts a hand and reaches towards Mukuro's face. Unsurprisingly, his eye widens in barely concealed panic before his struggling increases to frantic motions, but Tsuna—very carefully—lets his hand light up in Sun flames.

Mukuro freezes when he sees the yellow glow, and Tsuna slowly places his hand above the eye he accidentally bruised.

"What the fuck are you doing!?"

Tsuna ignores Ken as he withdraws his hand, nodding to himself. At most, there will be some dark bruising around Mukuro's eye, but the eye itself is fine. He turns to the other three watching him suspiciously.

"I don't think I broke anything, but I know I at least bruised, and we still have a pretty far walk. Let me heal you."

Ken steps forward with a snarl. "Get the fuck off of him!"

Tsuna glances between Ken and Mukuro. "I will if you can promise me that you won't try attacking me again. I don't want to hurt you guys more than I already have, but I will defend myself if provoked. I'd rather it not come to that."

He watches as Chikusa's eyes narrow, M.M. glares, and Ken grits his teeth. They all look ready for another fight, and Tsuna quietly wonders why no one in the mafia seems to know how to back down.

"... Fine. We won't attack you."

Tsuna's eyes snap to Mukuro, narrowed and disbelieving for several seconds, but Mukuro only peers up at him through damp bangs with an unreadable look. He glances once more to the others before giving a small nod and standing up, offering a hand to the Mist he was previously sitting on and receiving a skeptical look for it. "... All right then. Let me heal you guys."

Chikusa strides forward with a single nod from Mukuro, and M.M. follows after a moment of deliberation. Ken stubbornly keeps his distance and glares. "I don't need to be healed by you. My flames are enough."

Tsuna shrugs as Sun flames culminate in his open palms. "Suit yourself."

When he lays a glowing hand on Chikusa's shoulder, the boy stiffens but otherwise remains unmoving. Tsuna quickly pats him down to find the spot he had done the most damage—no broken ribs as he had thought, but he can tell there's a shortness of breath that indicates at least some bruising—and he closes his eyes as he lets his flames do most of the work.

Recalling the information Reborn practically beat down into his mind, along with the helpful lectures Shamal had provided him and the practical application Ryohei had overseen for him, is a more or less simple task. Sun flames have always come easier to Tsuna than some of the other flames like Mist and Storm due to the absolute control and precision needed to either maintain a construct or to not accidentally disintegrate a building. That is especially the case now, when Tsuna's years of honed control simply are not present.

In general, Sun flames are easier to wield for him, needing less precision (though it is still needed) and more force of sheer will, which is likely why Ryohei had been as amazing as he was. As a Sun flame healer it's important to know what one is doing too, of course, so that an activation of the wrong muscles isn't an issue. But again, Tsuna had enough of the necessary knowledge provided for him, and the principle behind Sun flames is activation of target areas—not some precision-healing magic.

… His aptitude for Sun flames is learned conjecture however, as Tsuna honestly doesn't know why Sun flames come easiest to him out of the other five flames. He has quietly wondered if it didn't have to do with his exposure to Reborn, though. He is proficient in all areas but he has always had a particular knack for Sun flames, which, while it could be due to Suns being some of the most intense, could very well be due to Reborn.

He frowns for a moment. Thinking about it, it could also be something caused by his father. Wasn't there a rumor going around that he could use Sun flames despite not having a guardian bond? He always has seemed a bit too intense for me. He snorts at his own thoughts. My actual father and someone who had been the closest thing to a father for me at that age. Go figure.

"... How do you have the ability to use so many flames?"

And to think, Tsuna had almost been able to ignore the stare drilling a hole into the back of his head.

"I had assumed that you were a Sky flame user, considering your heritage and the color of your flame from earlier, but you have displayed high proficiency in three flame types so far. What are you?"

Tsuna blinks, slanting a look over at him. "... Were they that lenient?"

He doesn't have to turn to see the smug smirk that he knows Mukuro is wearing. "The Vindice are not lenient, it's simply a matter of my skill versus theirs. But yes, in case you were wondering, I did hear enough to figure out who you are."

Considering your preferred method is dousing the air with a high concentration of your very noticeable Mist flames, I don't really know if it's skill as opposed to being lucky that there's already a lot of fog in the Vendicare Prison, Tsuna thinks to himself.

He waves Chikusa off and gestures to M.M. as he considers how to answer the question. Admittedly, he hadn't realized that Sky harmonization actually allowed for practical use of the other Flames of Sky until he was in his twenties, and he knows for a fact that it isn't something well known in this time. He has no worry of Mukuro selling the information, not with his hate of the mafia, and there isn't any fear of him using this to his advantage either—no one in his sphere of influence is a Sky flame user.

"It's something that my flame's harmonization attribute allows for," he settles on eventually.

He can see that Mukuro's face is uncharacteristically serious, usual grin gone. "... What, exactly, is your goal here?"

"I already told you."

Mukuro's expression twists, not enough to be a sneer, but enough to see the clear distrust and anger. "Do not think you can lie so easily to an illusionist, Vongola."

"I don't know what you want me to tell you. I told you the truth, and you refuse to believe me." Tsuna pats M.M.'s arm to let her know that he's done healing her. He turns to Mukuro. "Yes, I am hiding things from you, but ultimately it boils down to the fact that I don't want you to be my enemy. I want you to be my friend."

"... You intend for me to be your Mist." Mukuro's eyes narrow. "I refuse."

Well this is going rather well, Tsuna thinks wryly. "I'm not going to lie to you; that is one of the many goals I have in mind, but I know that it is impossible right now—"

"I will not become a Vongola dog."

"—and all I want right now, is for you four to come back to Japan with me, and live like the teenagers you are for a bit," Tsuna continues, undeterred by the interruption. "Besides, I think your goal might coincide with mine, regarding the mafia."

Mukuro lets out a derisive scoff. "I find it difficult to believe that you wish to destroy the mafia.

"You're right that I don't want to destroy it. I want to change it."

A brief silence follows the statement. Mukuro smiles, disbelieving and bitter "Change… the mafia."

"Think about it," Tsuna cuts in before Mukuro can retort with a scathing remark. "Vongola is the most powerful famiglia in the world, and very soon, I'll be lined up for its inheritance. It may take time, but it wouldn't be very difficult to change the mafia for the better from that position."

Mukuro is suddenly right in front of him, trident in hand, a burning look in his eyes that hasn't been directed at him in years. "I much prefer the option of possessing you and destroying the mafia from the inside out."

"Like I said before, you are welcome try." Tsuna straightens, and is privately a little irked that he has to look up to maintain eye contact. "But both of us know what the result of you trying that earlier, was."

He isn't intimidated by this younger, more foolhardy Mist. Tsuna has battled with the best, and the Mist that he remembers—that he respected and held respect for him in turn—would laugh if he were to be cowed.

"You are growing soft," he would say. "Perhaps you aren't as strong as you like to believe."

Even though Tsuna isn't Vongola Decimo or Neo Primo or Vongola, he is still Sawada Tsunayoshi—he has, always will be, and it's an innate quality that can't be stolen away from him no matter the circumstances.

His gaze hardens, and his irises gain a bright orange hue. He cracks a smile in reminiscence.

Try me.

The spell breaks when Mukuro takes a step back, letting out a quiet laugh that sounds eerily like the Mukuro that Tsuna remembers. "... Hmph. I suppose I have no choice but to wait for you to lower your guard." He rubs his thumb and pointer finger together absently, letting his trident disperse. "It pains me to admit, but you are a bit too strong-willed for us to attempt to best at the moment, Tsunayoshi."

Tsuna blinks back the spots in his vision as his flames recede, pulled tightly within him again. He ignores the flashes of memories that supercede the landscape around him and turns to the others. "Well. Since that's resolved, let's get moving again."

He doesn't expect much of anything yet, but he allows himself to hope.

The rest of the walk is spent mostly in silence, with the occasional question from Mukuro or quiet conversation between Ken and Chikusa. They stop for a few breaks, because even though Tsuna feels fine he knows that none of them will make it without dropping dead—which is something he'd really rather not let that happen.

It isn't until Ken actually collapses that Tsuna shoves a bottle of water and snacks in his face and tells him to "be quiet and let me heal you, I don't care what you think you can do on your own, none of us are going to carry you the rest of the way."

The rest of the trek is made without anymore issues thankfully, even though they are all a bit light-headed by the time they get back to Tsuna's hotel room. Tsuna pulls M.M. aside as the other three get situated, and he ignores her suspicious glare as he speaks.

"I know you don't feel safe or comfortable at the moment," he says simply. "That's why I thought I should tell you—while I would prefer that you stay with us, if you want to, you can leave."

"... Do you think I'm stupid?" She sneers at him, looking one wrong word away from punching him in the face. "The Vindice won't let me go so easily. They only let me go because you managed to convince them, and if I leave they'll probably just imprison me again. Don't you dare look down on me."

Tsuna winces. "... I apologize, it wasn't my intention to demean you. As it is, yes, we would all be safest sticking close to each other, but you're giving the Vindice a bit too much credit." He ignores her incredulous look and hissed comment of, "too much credit?"

"Ultimately, the agreement stands as long as none of us commit acts that go against their laws. Trust me, they aren't upholding their laws due to some moralistic view, and they don't expect any of us to behave as civilians on the right side of the law. You could technically still have your freedom away from us if you wish, and I just wanted you to know that this is an option I'm willing to give you. I don't know what group you were part of prior to being imprisoned and I don't know if you would want to return. But I wasn't lying earlier—I really would like to be your friend, if possible." He absentmindedly rubs at his throat. It's been a long day of discussion and debate for him. "The question is, what do you want to do?"

M.M. glances to the door. "And you aren't offering this to the others because…?"

"Because I trust Mukuro to not cause a ruckus about as far as I can throw him while simultaneously being weighed down with twenty-kilogram weights on each wrist, and the other two will follow him no matter what." Tsuna gives a small smile. "I also have long-term, relatively harmless goals involving them. They involve you too, but I already told you what they are, and you have the freedom to make your choice."

She only glares at him, eyes scanning his face for any sign of a lie. After a few moments of this with no answer, Tsuna nods.

"If you're still here in the morning then you will come to Japan with the rest of us. If not, then that will be your answer." He opens the door to the room and gestures for her to go in first.

She eyes him with her glare affixed as she walks in, making sure shove his arm as she does so.

Tsuna smiles a little bemusedly as he closes the door behind him, and kicks Ken off of one of the beds before going to sleep for the night.

In the morning, all four of them are present and accounted for—if slightly grumpy from being woken up so early—and they head to the airport with only minimal issues. It isn't until they manage to slip past Milan's airport security without any complications that Tsuna fully feels the exhaustion settle in.

This whole trip has been unbelievable levels of tiring, both physically and mentally (though the former isn't as much as surprise as the latter). Not to mention, these four mark the third time in the last thirty-six hours that he's had to try to convince highly suspicious and skeptical people. Yes he has had to do similar in the future-past, but for one, he had the privilege of throwing his title around a bit, and there wasn't so much riding on the successes of each one.

Tsuna is downright exhausted, and he tries not to think of how much more hectic his life will be once Reborn and everyone else filters into it.

… Yet, distantly, he finds comfort in the thought, and when he falls asleep he dreams of living in a mansion in need of constant repair with a family that's the furthest stretch from "normal" possible.

It's a family he would trade the world for.

Tsuna turns to the group behind him with a frown. "Behave as well as possible. Don't be rude to kaa-san, and please, be polite."

He pauses when he gets four bland stares. "... Do you guys know Japanese?"

"Yes, we do," Chikusa says as lifts a hand to adjust the glasses that aren't there. "We have Japanese names."

Tsuna bites back the reply that them having Japanese names really has nothing to do with anything considering they have lived in Italy their whole lives. He turns to M.M. instead. "What about you?"

She glares at him. "I can speak Japanese just fine."

Tsuna lifts his hands in a placating gesture.

He fishes the house key from his bag and unlocks the door, announcing his entrance as he and the others slowly filter in. They eye the shoe rack and decor a bit blankly, but follow his lead when he takes off his shoes and shuffles down the hallway.

"Tsuna? Is that you?" Nana calls from within the house, seemingly from the living room. The muffled sounds of the TV cut off. "Welcome home! You know, you just missed your father!"

Tsuna freezes.

That… That doesn't make sense. What had he changed? He knows that he's already changed quite a bit, actually, but what caused this? His father wasn't supposed to come back for a while, not until after Reborn arrived in Namimori. Other than visiting Italy, there is nothing he can think of that would cause his father to visit prematurely—and if this change is because Tsuna was in Italy, why would he come here instead of look for Tsuna? What did I change?

Sawada Iemitsu may be a bumbling fool of a father on good days, but his presence in Vongola is an immense one. And while Tsuna had some fairly serious issues with his father when he was a child, he did eventually grow past most of it and was able to see that being a poor family-man did not directly translate into poor work-ethic or a lack of intelligence and skill.

He had been banking on the complete absence of the man that occurred the last time. Iemitsu had not actually decided to grace his family with his presence until well after Reborn arrived, here in Namimori due to famiglia business. Tsuna hadn't thought that that would change but, evidently, that isn't the case.

Iemitsu is such a pivotal piece of Vongola that gaining his suspicions directly translates to gaining the suspicions of Vongola. Considering Tsuna's goals, that would be very, very bad.

Nana peers around the corner and beams, walking out in her fluffy house slippers and home-wear. "Oh! Are you four Tsu-kun's friends?"

Tsuna mentally kicks his thoughts to the side and nods, a little uncertain. "You could say that. Rokudo Mukuro, M.M., Kakimoto Chikusa, and Joshima Ken. Due to, circumstances, they need to stay over. Is that okay, or…?"

Nana claps her hands with a beaming grin. "Of course! For how long?"

Tsuna glances to the group—bemusedly noting the varying looks of shellshocked—and frowns. "... Well, I was hoping until further notice."

Nana blinks, and casts a worried look at the four. "That's fine of course, but what about your parents?"

"We don't have parents," Mukuro cuts in, looking like someone kicked a puppy in front of him. Tsuna double-takes.

… Mukuro's acting ability grew better in the future, he knows. It wasn't particularly bad before, but between his hyper intuition and Tsuna just knowing Mukuro, his acting never got much more than a creeping chill from how contrived it all seemed. Now is no different.

Nana gasps, covering her mouth with her hand. "Oh! That's terrible, goodness. How have you been living up until now? What happened? Are you okay?"

"They're fine kaa-san," Tsuna quickly interjects, interrupting Ken before he can say something likely rude, "they just need a place to stay for now."

"That's fine, you so rarely have friends over and this is a great opportunity for some bonding!" Nana tilts her head to the side, her gaze lifting skyward. "Hmm… It may be a bit too cramped to have all four of you stay in Tsu-kun's room. We have a spare room that I can clean up, wait down here while I go prepare it."

Mukuro shoots a look at Ken and Chikusa, and they seem to get the message, as they follow after Tsuna's mother while saying that they'll help. Or rather, Chikusa voices it while Ken gives an agreeing huff. After a moment M.M. trails after them uncertainly, and Nana is quick to diffuse the awkward atmosphere, saying that her hair is "the loveliest shade of red I have ever seen!" M.M. blushes, Ken makes a face, and Chikusa's expression is as bland as ever.

Tsuna watches as they trail up the stairs, with Nana engaging in lilting conversation with M.M. and Ken as Chikusa follows after them silently.

"... You are either careless or dangerously trusting. Not only have you led four highly suspect criminals into your home, you just allowed three to accompany your mother into another room."

Tsuna moves to set his bag down on the couch, sitting next to it and fluffing the pillows. "It's trust, not carelessness. I trust that I made my case. I'm not about to repeat everything when you already know what I said."

"And," he tacks on, when he sense more than sees Mukuro shift to retort, "you and I both know that you don't know the full measure of my power. You know that I am capable of taking all four of you on if needed. I wouldn't though, because there's no need to, and because you've already made your decision."

Tsuna eyes the pillows for a moment before lying down, stretching across the upholstery with a sigh. Mukuro is silent for a few beats. "… Fair enough. But do not expect us to behave like anything beyond acquaintances. Our presence here will be limited to begin with, and you will rarely see us."

Tsuna glances at Mukuro, who is standing a few feet away from him. He already knows the answer, but voices his question anyway."… Why?"

A secretive smirk is the answer. "I wonder."

He rolls his eyes. Of course, Mukuro had always had a habit of defaulting to cryptic, even for something as mundane as this. "Fine. By the way, and completely unrelated, there's an abandoned amusement park up north from here called Kokuyo Healthy Land. It's a bit further away, but several of its old amenities could likely be put back in working condition, and there's a lot of space, so it'll serve well enough as a base of operations for you and your little group. Will that do?"

Mukuro blinks slowly. "... Is that the praised Vongola Intuition speaking?"

"Good question. I wonder."

His eyelid twitches, but he smiles nonetheless, gaze settling on the far wall as he crosses his arms. "I suppose it's pointless to tell you that we won't be staying here indefinitely, then."

Yes, Tsuna thinks to himself. He knows Mukuro and the others too well to believe that they would feel comfortable living in this too-civilian, too-crowded home with someone they acknowledge as a threat. A low-risk, seemingly benign threat to be sure, but a threat nonetheless. The idea of Reborn arriving to see the ex-convicts is an amusing one, but it was never a thought Tsuna put actual credence in.

"It was always the plan for you to branch out on your own. I know that all you and others want right now is some breathing room to reacclimate to freedom, and that's what I want for you, too." He turns his head from where he's lying down, pinning Mukuro with a tired look. "I wasn't kidding when I said that I wanted to be your friend. Part of the reason why I even went to Italy was to get you out of the damned prison. A penitentiary is no place for anyone to live."

Mukuro's smile fades. He continues staring sightlessly at the wall for a moment before closing his eyes, and breathes, his shoulders lifting and falling once. He turns away to walk up the stairs in silence.

Tsuna stares after him until he disappears, and he lets out a sigh as he closes his eyes.

He's asleep not even a minute later.

They stand alone in the guest room.

Ken and the girl named M.M. are downstairs, trying to help Sawada's mother (and failing, by the sounds of shattering ceramic and chaos). Sawada himself must be somewhere downstairs as well, doing who knows what.

Chikusa doesn't particularly care. He has questions, a few concerns, and most are directed to the only other occupant of the room. "Mukuro-sama."

Mukuro slants a look towards him and lifts an eyebrow. "... You have quickly adapted to the situation, I see."

"'When in Rome,' as foreigners say."

He snorts, turning away. "Do as you please. Something as menial as that isn't any of my concern."

Chikusa watches him for a moment. "Why did you agree to this?"

Mukuro's expression can't be seen from his viewpoint, but the silence is answer enough. "Ken and I will follow you no matter what, but that doesn't mean we're not puzzled by this course of action."

"... You say that as if we are not still working towards our goal."

Chikusa motions to push up the glasses that aren't there and frowns. "No. I was simply under the impression that you were not willing to wait, and that you might have found the convenience a bit more suspicious than you seem to."

Mukuro turns to him then, though his gaze remains distant. "... Staying under the constant vigilance of the Vindice is a rather large inconvenience. We were already planning on leaving their 'care.' Tsunayoshi's appearance simply presented an opportunity, and I took it."

"And?" Chikusa presses, frowning. "What if this ends up being some trap? We know the Vindice more than we know Sawada Tsunayoshi."

Mukuro gives a quiet laugh. "I doubt that boy has it in him to kill any of us. It is a weakness that I thoroughly intend to exploit."

Would you be reluctant to betray him? The question rings in Chikusa's head and the words rest at the tip of his tongue. Because this deviation in itself is something out of the ordinary for his single-minded boss, and despite Mukuro's resolve to destroy the mafia remaining steadfast, he can still sense a subtle shift elsewhere within him.

Chikusa considers his leader with a sharp gaze. He isn't relaxed—he never is, never has been in Chikusa's memory—but he definitely isn't as on edge as he's seen him, considering they are in the territory of an unknown. Admittedly, Chikusa himself also feels the compulsion to drop his guard and relax, if only because of the stark contrast between their previous stone prisons and this warm, homely atmosphere.

But he knows that isn't everything to the situation. They were all moved by Sawada's presence, Mukuro being no exception. He is a threat, an unknown, someone who could possibly stand on equal footing with the mafia's police, but he insists on treating them all as amicably as possible without being overbearing. It isn't contrived, and if anything he seems to know that pretty words and a constant vigilance would only put them on edge, instead allowing them free reign so long as they behave politely and "legally."

(Not all that lenient, but ultimately far more lenience than any of them would have received in the Vendicare. Death was all that awaited them, and the fact that Sawada would let them roam around his house and town without following them is telling.)

When Mukuro's attention is brought to the door, where the sounds of chaos and clattering kitchenware has grown louder, Chikusa decides to put his worries aside and keep his question unvoiced. The important thing is that he and Ken will follow Mukuro into the depths of hell if asked—already have in a sense—and whether that means following Sawada Tsunayoshi on his path to change the mafia or destroying him to accomplish their original goal, it doesn't matter.

Their loyalties are solely, and will only ever be, with Mukuro.

AN: I'm pretty sure that the three other Kokuyo nerds poke fun at Mukuro in varying degrees, but I still think they put him on a grander pedestal than he should be tbh.

Next chapter is less a chapter and more a collection of ideas that really need to be organized, so I can't actually give an estimate on when it'll be out. There is also a moderate chance I will be out of the country this winter without much time to write. Either way, soon is definitely not applicable, sorry :/