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The Game We Play

By Chesiere Cat

The Game We Play

I miss you.

That was what he had wanted to say.

I miss you.

Three words. So short, so easy, it was supposed to slip from his lips without any difficulty just like those lies he told. And yet…

I miss you.

He found each syllable so agonizing to pronounce, so painful it stung his tongue with inflaming poison that later left his mind - and almost his body - paralyzed. He might consider it fortunate for him that his body was able to move on its own accord, with enough restriction only the most skilled illusionists - the best liars - could perfect. Even with the impact of this current reality tugging at his heart, stirring memories that belonged to the world that was now no more than a dream - a nightmare - as most might call it - Rokudou Mukuro's lips could still curve into his trademark smile. His voice did not betray him as he tried to speak each word to the man before him with amusement.

"My, I have never expected to see your face again. This is indeed a big surprise."

He would never say he missed him.

"You don't look too happy. I am hurt, Mukuro-kun." The man replied; still smiling that smile of joy and brilliance as if he had no worries in this world. Mukuro remembered how he had hated that smile. And yet, as this man stood before him - white wings spread like the very picture of a white angel - he could not help hating him even more. The man looked more youthful than he remembered him to be; his aura so pure and refreshed…so bright he couldn't find a trace of darkness - darker than any shade of night - he remembered this false angel had so well hidden.

For he suspected Byakuran was still hiding that darkness from him, from the world, with even better façade, better plan and that the man was waiting for the right moment to make him fall, to seize this world in his grasp and to be the winner once again.

The only man who had won his heart. Winning by the last moment not because of his victory over the Vongola - for that, Byakuran had not won - but because of his smile when death had finally granted him freedom, defeated in his own game that he had played over and over endlessly in countless parallel worlds. The man had won his heart just because he had left him feel - and realize - the agony of being left alone in an unfinished game…to lie in solitary in his bed every night and think of nothing but how those arms had held him so protectively as if they had been real lovers.

"Kufufu…why, I am, of course, very happy." His mismatched eyes fixed on Byakuran.

He did not think both of them were capable of this feeling humans called 'love'.

"I am so happy that I will be able to beat you this time." He could feel the solid metal of his trident in his gloved hand; the sharp tips glistened in the morning light as if to tell its wielder how ready it was for battle.

"You always say things that hurt my feeling, my love." But then he spoke those words. "And here I was expecting our teams could form a formidable alliance."

My love…

He spoke them so easily as if those words were natural to roll off his tongue. It sounded so sweet and endearing yet it stung him with the same poison those words that the illusionist could not bring himself to speak did.

Can you really love someone? Can we?

He wanted to ask. In that future world that no longer existed, the other man had not even told him goodbye. He had not even spared him a glance before he disappeared into the bright burning flame with that smile of his.

"I refuse." He heard himself say and his trident's tips pointed immediately at the man's throat. For a brief moment, he could see those amethyst colored orbs flashed with the darkness he was so familiar with before it was replaced with longing and then…amusement.

That…was enough for him to confirm that this man before him was no illusion. Not an illusion he had been trying to fool himself with. Not a dream - a nightmare - he had been trying to indulge, for Rokudou Mukuro was so accustomed to nightmare he was never afraid of it. He smiled another smile - one that he did not have to fake.

"I am going to have a lot of fun fighting you."

Because he truly had been missing this.

The white angel smiled back as he started to soar high - always toward the sky - hair gleaming in the sun like a halo Mukuro so much loved to mock.

"Then I will have to show you, my love, that I am still the same demonic beast that can make you scream and writhe helplessly beneath me."

Mukuro laughed and aimed for the other's Boss Watch. This was going to be fun.

For it is the game we play.

For it was everything that he had so much missed.

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