A/N: Drabble. 100 words. No more, no less.

Warnings: Some sort of violence.

Disclaimer: Reborn! is the intellectual property of Amano Akira and all associated companies. No profit is being made from this and no copyright infringement intended with this fan-made piece of fiction.


Mukuro groaned from the power of the blow and veered to the side to dodge the other tonfa coming his way, cloud flames billowing. Not like he stayed behind: illusions were wound tight and he slid in and out of them, striking and missing and striking again. Hibari snarled when the edge of the trident severed yet another lock of hair and charged forward, right into an illusion. Mist flared, dissipated, and formed again.
And then he fell. Down, down, down; but it was an illusion. He never hit the ground. Pain wasn't real.

This was why he hated illusionists.