Rokudou Mukuro came and went as freely as a Cloud—rather more freely than perhaps anyone other than Tsuna and Kyouko was really comfortable with, all things considered. The word of the Vongola was unbreakable, though, and Tsuna had given it to the Vendicare to secure Mukuro’s parole, so Mukuro came and went as he pleased, save for the occasions when Tsuna’s business required his presence.

Such as this one.

It was always interesting to watch Mukuro and Chrome when they were together in the same space, Kyouko mused. They gravitated towards each other, and shared a handful of mannerisms—the tilt of the head, a trick of posture, the way a gesture followed a thought—that gave them an uncanny resemblance to each other. One had to wonder how much of that was deliberate, and how much of it was unconscious, and who was the original and who was the copy.

After all, she’d seen too much to assume that the influence only ran in one direction, where the two of them were concerned.

“Well, what is it?” Mukuro asked, when Tsuna had joined them and Kyouko had distributed coffee to the three of them, and taken up her own cup of tea. He glanced at Kyouko before asking, as if her presence was some kind of cue, and then added, “I assume this isn’t about Spain.”

“No,” Tsuna said, with a faint smile. “Should it be about Spain?” That was where they’d called Mukuro home from, where he’d been pursuing some end of his own.

Tsuna held Mukuro’s eyes, and Mukuro was the one who shrugged. “It has nothing to do with the Vongola,” he said, and selected one of the flaky little tarts that Kyouko had noticed he liked.

“Then no, it isn’t about Spain,” Tsuna said, and took a sip of his coffee.

Despite the fact that Tsuna was as much responsible for this as she was, he had insisted that it was her news to share, so Kyouko cleared her throat. “I’m expecting,” she said, which garnered a murmured, “Congratulations,” from Chrome, and a, “What, again?” from Mukuro.

“Mukuro-sama,” Chrome said, gently reproving. “That wasn’t very polite.” She did not, Kyouko noted, make the mistake of confusing ‘polite’ with ‘nice’.

“I suppose it’s not. Congratulations to both of you,” Mukuro said, eyes dark. “And may you not live to see the whole lot of them fighting each other to be your heir.”

From Mukuro, that was practically a blessing. “Thank you,” Kyouko said, smiling. He just snorted.

Chrome was still watching them, waiting—probably with a good idea of what was to come. Mukuro surely had the same idea, but he rarely showed what he was thinking, while Chrome sometimes did.

“We’d like you to stand as godparents to the child,” Tsuna said, and that completed the circle that they’d begun with Gokudera and Mari.

The two of them had to have seen it coming; the pattern hadn’t exactly been subtle. All of Tsuna’s other Guardians had taken on this duty in addition to their other responsibilities, from Gokudera down to Lambo. Chrome reacted as Tsuna and Kyouko had agreed that she probably would, by tipping her head and murmuring, “I would be honored.”

Mukuro just looked at them both and said, flatly, “Have you lost your minds?”

“No, of course not,” Tsuna said, smiling. “Are you willing to do it?”

Kyouko raised her tea to her lips, to conceal the fact that she was holding her breath.

“Have you forgotten who I am?” Mukuro demanded, and Kyouko sighed into her cup. He wasn’t unwilling, then—just suffering an attack of his peculiar brand of scruples.

“Of course I haven’t,” Tsuna told him, still with his smile, but there was a touch of his Will in his eyes. “You’re my Mist.”

“And our Family,” Kyouko murmured, in case Mukuro had forgotten that she was party to the decision, too. “Really, I can’t think of any better way to mark the fact than to have you as a godparent.” She set her tea down, and added, “Of course, if you say no, I suppose we can ask Xanxus instead.”

Even Tsuna choked on that one.

“Use your head, Sawada,” Mukuro said, after a moment. “Think of how this will look.”

“It will look as though I am gathering one of my people to me and keeping him there,” Tsuna said, firmly. “If you do not wish to do this, then all you have to do is say so. But if your only reasons for saying no are what you fear the other Families will think, that’s not your problem. It’s mine, and I don’t care about them.” His Will echoed in his voice and his eyes, low and sure and smooth.

Mukuro was no more immune to that than any of Tsuna’s other Guardians, though Kyouko was sure that he’d be loath to admit it. He stared at Tsuna until, finally, he inclined his head, and said, sour, “It’s your neck.”

“Yes, it is,” Kyouko said, smiling. “More coffee?”

He grunted at her, but held out his cup after a moment, and that was that. Kyouko refilled it, smiling, and wondered what this new duty was likely to make of him.

– end –