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Fandom: Katekyo Hitman Reborn
Summary: Mukuro deciding to go to Japan - how he found out where to look.
Warnings: Death, possession, it's Mukuro on one of his worse days.
The entire meeting had been a hastily scheduled reunion of strange bedfellows, law enforcement and mafia; it'd always been an awkward relationship of necessity and "common threat". Once that threat was caught, they hadn't really entirely dropped keeping track of each other, as neither the local Vongola representative nor the older of the two Guardia really felt secure in their "victory" - a mutual agreement; keep in touch until the execution and knowing for sure the problem was dead, and considering what both sides had been through, forget the other ever existed and go their separate ways. It wasn't an agreement either side would've considered under normal circumstances, but what they were dealing with wasn't normal circumstances.
And even the capture of the threat didn't leave either side with any sense of security. It felt too easy to the agent, with bits like there was an important piece missing that they couldn't pin down; and the Vongola knew better than to think that it would be that simple when there was that much evidence of a powerful illusionist involved.
As much as they'd prayed the execution would go without a hitch and the whole thing would be over, neither was surprised when there was a jailbreak, and when the two agents showed up at the hotel's back door, they were checked over more to make sure there wasn't an illusion at work and a trap than out of suspicion of the agents themselves; it was an emergency meeting with very little in the way of scheduling or communication that both sides knew was needed.
There was still an awkward silence over the room's table at first.
"I thought you said your people had ways to deal with the -" The older agent made a few vague, sharp hand gestures; he'd survived far too many brushes and still had a hard time sometimes, accepting that half of that had been real. His younger partner was only really included out of being someone who'd survived too close of a brush himself, and had always been nervously quiet during these meetings.
"Unfortunately nothing is foolproof, and I suspect we both have a clue what went wrong."
The agent rubbed his face, leaning on the table. "Mukuro had someone on the outside."
"Or something along those lines." After all, someone skilled with possession and control techniques didn't necessarily need an ally, just someone they could make a pawn out of.
"So now what? Do we have a repeat performance?"
"I don't think we have another choice - he'll just fool one or the other of us alone and slip through again, and God knows what damage they'll do this time." The law enforcement side had never gotten figures on how many people on the underworld side had died; legal figures put this at "mass murder", and mostly military and police at that - add in the gang's apparent grudge against the underworld in general and it was a higher number than should've come from three people.
Five, maybe six now.
"There has to be another way to do this - we can't just throw people at cornering them like that again."
"...No, no we can't." With what it'd taken to catch them the first time - and some of the Flame users that'd ended up part of the actual capture were still hospitalized...
That awkward silence reined again, although more wracking for ideas.
"...I heard something, a while ago. That you people have someone - a hitman the entire rest of the underworld's terrified of."
The younger agent squirmed a little, giving his superior a brief incredulous glance, while the Vongola representative raised an eyebrow. "Dropping that request about taking them alive?"
"Due process means nothing if there's another rampage."
There was a low sigh from the Vongola as he shook his head. "I wish I could, but he's busy."
"Busy?" It was an odd moment, someone who'd made a living chasing Mafia and been known for nerves of steel losing bits of composure. "What kind of 'busy' is more important a target than that?"
"It's not - look, he hasn't even been doing that kind of work for a few years now, and he's not even in Italy right now."
"And you can't call him out of retirement?"
"He's not retired, he's just been - Training people. Doing other things. Not killing people."
There was a very flat look from the law agent. "And he can't take time for this."
"This isn't even something I can do - the Ninth's the only one that gives him orders, and whatever he's doing right now, it was a direct order, and one nobody but him and the Ninth were in on."
"So if he's not in Italy, where is he?"
There was a moment where the older agent was stuck in disbelief - there were a few rules that had always been a part of these meetings about this. Him not talking much was one, and the other big term of the "truce" against Mukuro was respecting their contact's Omerte and not asking questions about things that weren't volunteered and directly related. As much as he would've loved to know some of those things himself, they'd all have ended up dead if they were working at odds while that was at their heels.
That the younger agent was calmer than usual and making direct eye contact registered with a sense of something very wrong.
The next second, their contact answered, and the realization that somehow the light made one of the younger agent's eyes look crimson red added to the sinking sense that things had just taken a side trip into a horror movie.
"Japan, somewhere around Sendai."
"What's his business there?"
That wasn't his partner. His voice, his face, but not him, too calm, and that funny head tilt wasn't him - and the last time there'd been a question like that, it'd been met with reminders about priorities and implied threats, not answers.
"I don't know - like I said, the orders were secret, and only him and the Ninth know; anybody brought in on it won't say a word when they get back."
"And it's more important than any threats here?"
"If it weren't he'd have already been here on this one."
Whoever it was frowned, thinking...
Then whatever conclusion he'd reached got a faint smirk.
The older agent finally found his voice. "...who-"
It was cut off by a gunshot; he hadn't even noticed that the - bodysnatcher had drawn the gun, much less had it ready.
It was enough of a sharp distraction for the Vongola to shake off the compulsion enough to reach for a button he'd hidden, an emergency thing he'd set to signal the security desk; there was another gunshot before he could actually do anything, although it likely did at least get an alarm off.
Mukuro sighed at that, looking up at where he knew there was a hidden camera; the alarm wasn't something he would've been able to fool fast enough - but there wasn't a point in masking to the cameras anymore anyway. Considering how much trouble the meeting could've gotten either side in, and how it'd gone, nobody outside the room would know how the conversation had gone or what he knew now.
The current head of the Vongola was old; there was a lot of talk of succession, and sending one of his most trusted men on some kind of top-secret mission when said man had been focused on training the leadership lately meant that, if whoever he was teaching wasn't the intended successor, they were at least being groomed for something close. The secrecy meant they didn't want to risk drawing attention - a perfect opportunity to slip in and turn one of the most powerful Famiglia into something he could use to bring the whole thing down.
He dropped the illusion masking the room, giving security a view of the hotel room with two dead bodies and one, third person looking straight at the hidden camera, gun to "his" own head.
"Arrivederci."
Summary: Mukuro deciding to go to Japan - how he found out where to look.
Warnings: Death, possession, it's Mukuro on one of his worse days.
The entire meeting had been a hastily scheduled reunion of strange bedfellows, law enforcement and mafia; it'd always been an awkward relationship of necessity and "common threat". Once that threat was caught, they hadn't really entirely dropped keeping track of each other, as neither the local Vongola representative nor the older of the two Guardia really felt secure in their "victory" - a mutual agreement; keep in touch until the execution and knowing for sure the problem was dead, and considering what both sides had been through, forget the other ever existed and go their separate ways. It wasn't an agreement either side would've considered under normal circumstances, but what they were dealing with wasn't normal circumstances.
And even the capture of the threat didn't leave either side with any sense of security. It felt too easy to the agent, with bits like there was an important piece missing that they couldn't pin down; and the Vongola knew better than to think that it would be that simple when there was that much evidence of a powerful illusionist involved.
As much as they'd prayed the execution would go without a hitch and the whole thing would be over, neither was surprised when there was a jailbreak, and when the two agents showed up at the hotel's back door, they were checked over more to make sure there wasn't an illusion at work and a trap than out of suspicion of the agents themselves; it was an emergency meeting with very little in the way of scheduling or communication that both sides knew was needed.
There was still an awkward silence over the room's table at first.
"I thought you said your people had ways to deal with the -" The older agent made a few vague, sharp hand gestures; he'd survived far too many brushes and still had a hard time sometimes, accepting that half of that had been real. His younger partner was only really included out of being someone who'd survived too close of a brush himself, and had always been nervously quiet during these meetings.
"Unfortunately nothing is foolproof, and I suspect we both have a clue what went wrong."
The agent rubbed his face, leaning on the table. "Mukuro had someone on the outside."
"Or something along those lines." After all, someone skilled with possession and control techniques didn't necessarily need an ally, just someone they could make a pawn out of.
"So now what? Do we have a repeat performance?"
"I don't think we have another choice - he'll just fool one or the other of us alone and slip through again, and God knows what damage they'll do this time." The law enforcement side had never gotten figures on how many people on the underworld side had died; legal figures put this at "mass murder", and mostly military and police at that - add in the gang's apparent grudge against the underworld in general and it was a higher number than should've come from three people.
Five, maybe six now.
"There has to be another way to do this - we can't just throw people at cornering them like that again."
"...No, no we can't." With what it'd taken to catch them the first time - and some of the Flame users that'd ended up part of the actual capture were still hospitalized...
That awkward silence reined again, although more wracking for ideas.
"...I heard something, a while ago. That you people have someone - a hitman the entire rest of the underworld's terrified of."
The younger agent squirmed a little, giving his superior a brief incredulous glance, while the Vongola representative raised an eyebrow. "Dropping that request about taking them alive?"
"Due process means nothing if there's another rampage."
There was a low sigh from the Vongola as he shook his head. "I wish I could, but he's busy."
"Busy?" It was an odd moment, someone who'd made a living chasing Mafia and been known for nerves of steel losing bits of composure. "What kind of 'busy' is more important a target than that?"
"It's not - look, he hasn't even been doing that kind of work for a few years now, and he's not even in Italy right now."
"And you can't call him out of retirement?"
"He's not retired, he's just been - Training people. Doing other things. Not killing people."
There was a very flat look from the law agent. "And he can't take time for this."
"This isn't even something I can do - the Ninth's the only one that gives him orders, and whatever he's doing right now, it was a direct order, and one nobody but him and the Ninth were in on."
"So if he's not in Italy, where is he?"
There was a moment where the older agent was stuck in disbelief - there were a few rules that had always been a part of these meetings about this. Him not talking much was one, and the other big term of the "truce" against Mukuro was respecting their contact's Omerte and not asking questions about things that weren't volunteered and directly related. As much as he would've loved to know some of those things himself, they'd all have ended up dead if they were working at odds while that was at their heels.
That the younger agent was calmer than usual and making direct eye contact registered with a sense of something very wrong.
The next second, their contact answered, and the realization that somehow the light made one of the younger agent's eyes look crimson red added to the sinking sense that things had just taken a side trip into a horror movie.
"Japan, somewhere around Sendai."
"What's his business there?"
That wasn't his partner. His voice, his face, but not him, too calm, and that funny head tilt wasn't him - and the last time there'd been a question like that, it'd been met with reminders about priorities and implied threats, not answers.
"I don't know - like I said, the orders were secret, and only him and the Ninth know; anybody brought in on it won't say a word when they get back."
"And it's more important than any threats here?"
"If it weren't he'd have already been here on this one."
Whoever it was frowned, thinking...
Then whatever conclusion he'd reached got a faint smirk.
The older agent finally found his voice. "...who-"
It was cut off by a gunshot; he hadn't even noticed that the - bodysnatcher had drawn the gun, much less had it ready.
It was enough of a sharp distraction for the Vongola to shake off the compulsion enough to reach for a button he'd hidden, an emergency thing he'd set to signal the security desk; there was another gunshot before he could actually do anything, although it likely did at least get an alarm off.
Mukuro sighed at that, looking up at where he knew there was a hidden camera; the alarm wasn't something he would've been able to fool fast enough - but there wasn't a point in masking to the cameras anymore anyway. Considering how much trouble the meeting could've gotten either side in, and how it'd gone, nobody outside the room would know how the conversation had gone or what he knew now.
The current head of the Vongola was old; there was a lot of talk of succession, and sending one of his most trusted men on some kind of top-secret mission when said man had been focused on training the leadership lately meant that, if whoever he was teaching wasn't the intended successor, they were at least being groomed for something close. The secrecy meant they didn't want to risk drawing attention - a perfect opportunity to slip in and turn one of the most powerful Famiglia into something he could use to bring the whole thing down.
He dropped the illusion masking the room, giving security a view of the hotel room with two dead bodies and one, third person looking straight at the hidden camera, gun to "his" own head.
"Arrivederci."
