streetwalkers | I got no one who will bring me a big umbrella;

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rokudo mukuro

I got no one who will bring me a big umbrella;

[It's late night again -- past midnight, when Mukuro finally enters the hallways of the Vongola base in Rome. A bare few hours have passed since this incident, most of which has been spent calming his shaken nerves, bandaging the worst of his injuries with makeshift bandages torn from his t-shirt, and working up the energy to walk in smoothly, not stumbling despite his exhaustion, a half-heated illusion of a healthy body thrown over him to deter all but the most perceptive he may run into. But he's not stalking silently as usual -- it's a slow plod, masking pain and discomfort with a false sense of nonchalance. And for once he isn't looking to irritate anyone tonight. He just wants a bath, a bed, and sleep.]

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That isn't for you to decide. [There's slight irritating colouring the exhaustion in his voice now. The last thing he wants is to be "protected". He refuses to acknowledge the kind of weakness that would require that, or to concede the task to the mafia, even Tsuna's mafia, if it were required.]

I'm not yours to protect.

No matter what. [ They've gone over this a thousand and one times, the results the same each time, with Mukuro persistent and Tsuna even more so, constantly engaged in this battle of wills. Mukuro should know what comes next, right? ]

From the minute you agreed- you were mine to protect.

But we can argue about it again some other time, okay? [ Tsuna's finishing off the rest of the bandages now, snipping them loose and taping them down firmly. ] You should get some rest, and maybe we'll get Ryohei-nii to fix those in the morning.

[He's tempted to argue anyway. But he bites his tongue, and instead just shoots Tsuna a look that says very clearly that he's displeased. But for an instant there was emotion warring on his face, before he clamped it down in reflexive horror at the fact that it had gotten out of his control even that much. But then, he supposes, he's going to have to face the emotional wounds from today eventually... but it can wait. Not while Tsuna's here to see it. Not where he'll say something he can't take back, and betray the part of him that wants to place the blame square on someone else's -- anyone else's shoulders, even if and maybe especially if that person is Tsuna. After all, if he didn't care like he does, so openly, perhaps Mukuro himself wouldn't seem like such an ideal target.]

...Fine.

[ Oh, so it's his fault now, is it- well, as a matter of fact, it really is. Sometimes, Tsuna wonders if his ideals for peace are what will kill them all in the first place, but it's too late to turn back now. All he can do now though, is smile, a little wistfully maybe, and pack things back up. ]

Walk you to your room?

[Oh, he knows it's a stretch to blame it on Tsuna, even though it isn't a major stretch. Still, it's just easier to have someone to resent that you can actually do something about. And even though he knows it's not fair, well, Mukuro has never been fair. So he'll start by giving the cold shoulder.

He gets up without making eye contact or returning the smile, and brushes past Tsuna with a distinctly dismissive attitude, gathering his frustration into energy to keep him upright and steady on his feet.]

That won't be necessary.

But you look like you're about to fall asleep standing. [ The sudden brusqueness doesn't take him by surprise as much as Mukuro might have intended. He's seen it before, and it's a familiar pattern. ]

[Well this time he doesn't pause to try and make up for his failure to throw Tsuna off right away. He just ignores him entirely and keeps walking. :|]

[ ~~You're limping~~. Tsuna stuffs his hands in his pockets, and walks alongside him, contemplative. ]

[Why so infuriating, Tsuna? Mukuro tries his best to ignore him, he really does. And under any other circumstances he'd be quite good at it. But as Tsuna learned many years ago, when under great amounts of pressure Mukuro can be a little, well... unstable. So it's with a somewhat shaky chuckle that he finally breaks the silence.]

You are far too good to be true, Sawada Tsunayoshi. And I think I see the flaw, now. You can't do anything, can you? You don't protect anything. You're just damage control.

[ Even despite that, the knowledge that Mukuro will, and has lashed out exactly like an animal cornered, Tsuna still misses a breath and his step nearly falters. They're only words, designed with the intent to cut, and Tsuna knows that, but even so-- ]

--sorry. I'll do better.

You won't, because you can't. [He doesn't look at Tsuna -- he doesn't need to. He knows his words bite, and that's entirely the point.]

You can't keep us locked in some sealed box for safety. You can't even make us listen to you. People will get hurt, and people will die, and all you can do is stem the bleeding. So don't talk as if you're a hero. You're just saying it to make yourself feel better.

[ What can he say? What could he possibly ever say to make everything right again, set the world straight upon its axis once more?

Nothing, probably. But Tsuna will try regardless, because at this point, the most he can do is try, and if the plan works-- if it works, he only hopes that someday everyone will forgive him.

Until then, he stands, tense, hands clenched into fists by his side and stony faced. ]

I guess, in the end, I never was suited for this, huh?

[The slightest smile lifts the corners of Mukuro's mouth, as he stops and turns to watch Tsuna with s touch of bitter sadism in his eyes. That's more like it -- seeing Tsuna lose his light, even for a moment, is quite gratifying. Though at the same time it's a little disturbing, it's also exactly what he wanted.]

And finally you see. You're only human, after all. A foolish one, at that.

[ Tsuna smiles, soft, and laughs in the same way. ] Then what are you? [ He continues walking again, the soft footfalls padded by the carpet beneath his feet, and sometimes, there's just no winning with Mukuro, is there? ]

Even if I'm not, it's my job now.

What am I, hmm? [He'll follow along out of habit, dismissing the second statement as something he can't argue with. But he does seriously consider that question, even if it was meant as a frivolous retort. It's a good question -- Mukuro doesn't examine himself much.]

I'm the worst sort of specimen.

You're just saying that. [ Does this mean Mukuro needs a physical? ] Though you're not exactly in the best shape right now. . .

I'm not. I've been on the giving or receiving end of more atrocities than you'd like to think about. [He shrugs, looking self-satisfied.]

Most often the giving end.

What about today?

[He doesn't want to think about today, thank you very much. His smile evaporates, and there's that highly unusual withdrawl into brooding again. Even outwardly, it's too strong a reaction for just a fight.]

It could have been worse.

[ There's prickling at the back of his neck, and it's become familiar enough a sensation for Tsuna to recognise it as his hyper intuition. ]

That bad, huh? [ A long, prolonged pause. ] How long?

...hm? [He'll let Tsuna explain what he meant -- if he's figured something out, that's fine, but Mukuro isn't going to give it away without real prompting.]

--nothing. [ And, after that trek, they're here. ]

[Oh, how nice of you to drop it. Mukuro relaxes a little, and slips into his room. He won't shut Tsuna out, but he won't invite him in, either, but will rather just plop down on the bed gingerly, shifting into the easiest position for his injured body.]

Do you need anything else?

[ ...trails in, after a moment of debate, and sits down on the very edge of the bed. ]

Shouldn't I be the one asking you?

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