Title: The Historian

Theme: 2 news; letter from 30_kisses lj

Rating: PG-13/T (hint of citrus content)

Pairing: TYLMukuro/TYLChrome (adults from the future/post kids going back to their time)

For: Frost190 (Again. Since I didn't take into account for their love for 6996 ^^;)

Summary: Chrome Dokuro addresses letters to herself. Or rather the 'self' who will read them ten years in the future.

Chrome didn't keep secrets from him. Yet, she hoarded a stack of sealed envelopes and locked the desk drawer containing them. At first, Mukuro brushed it off as just one of the many quirks the woman tended to develop over the years. Many people assumed he 'screwed Chrome up'. However, Mukuro would only accept half responsibility, because sometimes the woman was simply bizarre.

Such as her habit of eating only chocolate.

"Yes, yes. Your organs are special. However, just because you 'can' get away with eating only chocolate without health consequences, doesn't mean you 'should'." Mukuro once told her, feeling a little like the girl's father. ...which led to a very awkward connection. One of the downsides of them sharing a body for almost a decade, Mukuro didn't even have to say where his train of thought was going. She already knew. Which led to Chrome blushing then slamming the door in his face.

Sometimes even he, the man who died and walked the circles of rebirth; could not fathom the mysterious psyche of human females.

And even then, Mukuro had a hunch his 'sweet' Chrome would still confuse him, because as stated before the young woman had odd ways about her.

Like those letters addressed to no-one. Too insignificant for someone else to read, yet important enough for her to lock the sealed envelopes away.

"I wonder what you have to hide, in that secret drawer of yours" he whispered while spinning the young woman out to a tune no one else was dancing to. These mafia people and their parties. Such opulent atmosphere and old-fashioned styled balls, yet rarely did anyone dance.

Mukuro suspected they were too afraid to turn their backs on one another. One wrong step and someone just might stick you with a knife. He had nothing to worry about, because Mukuro knew how their little minds operated and could gut and de-bone them like fish. He only needed an excuse. Everyone present knew it too, they only humored him because of Vongola. And in turn he humored Vongola because of Chrome.

Chrome blinked her single eye in bemusement, "I have nothing to hide from Mukuro-sama."

He smiled, spinning her again and about to pass Chrome along to another gentleman only to pull her back into him. No one else was to monopolize her time. It was only fair after all. A fair exchange of desires. Mukuro gave up his goal of bathing the world in blood, for the moment; so Chrome could enjoy her life. If it weren't for Chrome acting as his proxy, Vongola would have been forced to kiss their Mist Ring goodbye ages ago.

They could have kissed their Boss goodbye many a times after that as well, if it weren't for Chrome's delusion of being loved and needed by the mafia family. Her fascination with this faux commendatory amused Mukuro, so he wanted to see how it played out.

Oh, but she had better not come crying to him when it all fell apart. And it was doomed to break up, Mukuro was sure of it.

They bowed to each other at the end of a dance. As courtly as a couple in the Sun King's era, while the modern world simply stared and shook their heads.

Mukuro rather liked the confusion and Chrome enjoyed his company, even if she could do without the staring and whispers.

"You have another lover, but are afraid I will find out about him..." he theorized while helping Chrome unzip her dress. "So you leave the letters unaddressed and keep them locked away."

"No. Mukuro-sama...those letters are private." The plea of 'leave it be' clear in her tone. Yet, Mukuro knew he could get his way. In the meantime, he kissed exposed skin, zipper inching down her back and revealing more until satin black fell to the floor in a heap.

Her scars, along Chrome's collarbone and down her chest. The marks of a cadaver prepared for an autopsy. Over the years her scars turned a muted pink, barely visible, but Mukuro remembered how Nagi looked in a mirror after he busted their shared body out of the morgue.

She traced over those ugly, ugly marks with feminine fingers. Over and over again she touched the hideous pattern, but Nagi didn't shed a tear or moan about being disfigured. Nagi had simply faced herself in the mirror, before Mukuro took over her body long enough to cut the girl's hair and put on the eye patch.

The transformation from Nagi to Chrome Dokuro hadn't been as simple as changing her name. Because Nagi was a scared lonely girl who loved cats. Chrome had to push her way beyond a normal girl in order to be strong. Sad thing about it, Mukuro was aware he changed as much as the teenager-now grown woman.

He kissed the scars.

"You are attempting to correspond with your parents then. Yet, feel ashamed for looking at the past" he said, in a very rare contemplative and serious mood.

Chrome shook her head, fingers twisting strands of his hair. He hide a smirk because it wasn't long before she grabbed the slender ponytail Mukuro pulled his hair back into. He could almost say Chrome had a fetish for his hair.

"I should cut my hair at some point" was all he needed to say to invoke a look of horror on Chrome's face. As if he had just threatened to drown a kitten. Or slaughter Tsunayoshi Sawada. Both would be offenses Chrome Dokuro wouldn't forgive.

Mukuro hid his displeasure by dotted her neck with kisses. He'd indulge Chrome and her illusion of a having a family as long as it amused him.

Train wrecks were fascinating to watch, however this one seemed to be going in slow motion.

"Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back." Mukuro said to himself while picking the lock to Chrome's desk late one Sunday evening-early morning. She was away on a mission with the always-cheerful-Rain. Alas, he was without even the humorously creative death threats from the Cloud, because Hibari-kun was also gone. So, Mukuro was lacking in things to keep himself occupied while stuck at home. Oddly enough, Tsuna didn't trust him enough to be released on missions by himself.

Thus, Chrome's desk bore the brunt of his boredom. Namely, the locked drawer with all those letters.

"Idle hands are the devil's..." he paused for a moment, coming up a blank to the end of that particular turn of phrase. Ah well, it didn't matter anymore because the lock gave under his efforts.

There were forty letters in all. "Chrome has been a very busy woman" he hummed before lifting a letter opener from the desk. He scowled at the words engraved in silver, a gift from one of the mafia fools who thought they had a chance. Chrome would not be bought by petty office tools. He threw the letter opener so it landed in the trash pail.

After unfolding the paper, Mukuro found the contents were nothing he had been expecting. Not even his teasing speculation of a lover or parental was present in the letter.

July 11

Dear Me,

Don't believe everything you are told.

Mis-matched eyes blinked. Few things puzzled Mukuro. However, he wondered why Chrome wasted an envelope and letter head, not to mention the seal; just to say that.

He opened another letter. Short one line titbits of advice, addressed to herself each time. Each and every one of them lacked an explanation or a reference point. Warning after warning, without bringing up names or mentioning what brought about these words of caution.

The last letter was dated yesterday...

"All things are temporary" Mukuro read aloud. He felt a sense of dread. Why though? Didn't this mean she was becoming disenchanted with Tsuna and his merry band of vigilantes?

Or it could mean she no longer believed in...

The door to Chrome's office opened. A bedraggled being came in. Her suit impeccable, but indigo hair a tangled mess and eyes rimmed with black sleepless circles. Caught red-handed with her letters, Mukuro simply regarded Chrome as if she were the intruder, not the other way around.

She had forgiven him for worse after all, so this invasion of privacy was a minor infraction.

Apparently, she didn't seem to share his belief because Chrome's face flushed with embarrassment then the young woman turned on her heel and stalked out of the office.

Mukuro didn't call out or try to stop her. He didn't chase women nor did Mukuro feel he had done anything wrong.

That night, Mukuro found himself staring at a locked door. "Oh for..." he self-censored, eyes rolling toward the ceiling before he picked the lock. Honestly. He was a criminal and an escape artist, broke out of Vindice twice, so a stupid door wasn't going to keep him out.

Still, he found it insulting when Mukuro unlocked the door to find himself standing in a hall of doors rather than in Chrome's room.

"I take it you want to be alone tonight." Mukuro said. 'Well tough luck' he mentally added. He destroyed door after door until the illusion faded.

She sat on the bed, pretending to read a novel while looking so petulant Mukuro would have called her expression 'sulky'.

Easing out of his shoes first, Mukuro loosed his tie but left it dangling. Chrome viewed the neck-tie, like his hair, as something easy to grab onto, something which gave her a false impression of control. He crawled up onto the mattress but stayed to his own side. He would not beg like a dog, appealing to his owner's sympathies. Rather Mukuro slinks, then curled as if feline. If Chrome wanted to pet him and make amends that was her business, he would be just fine all alone.

Watching Chrome's resolve crumble was not unlike watching a sandcastle dissolve in the creeping ocean surf. The thin almost frowning line of her lips twitched, only to be covered by the pages of a book. He stretched, body arched to curl around her side, but kept a comfortable distance. Then her right hand moved from the book's spine, inching towards him.

Mukuro rolled away from her wandering hand, finding the opposite wall so interesting to look at. Chrome's book closed with a light thud, rustling of sheets followed as the female Mist turned to her companion.

Mukuro felt fingers filter through his long hair then reaching over to touch his tie. He put an arm around Chrome, pulling her down into a kiss. No apologizes needed because he wasn't about to admit doing wrong and Chrome repented through her actions since words often failed the young woman.

"Why write letters to yourself though?" he asked, Chrome's right leg raised and bent before Mukuro's lips grazed along smooth skin.

Chrome shuddered in response, "Because she has to know what to expect...should we trade places again."

Mukuro tilted his head, hands underneath Chrome's nightdress, "And you'd think your younger self would find those letters?"

"If she's 'me' then she would know what to look for and where to find it" was the woman's simple answer.

"Hm..." Mukuro replied, for once at a loss for something flippant or mocking to say.

His beautiful, sweet and strange little Chrome. The perfect little minion who had forced him to change plans. She'd survive on a diet of chocolate only if allowed. She thought feeding Hibird seed would endear them a little to the moody Cloud. And she wrote letters to girl in the past and kept them under lock and key as a test, to see if the one from a previous time line was truly her.

Yes. He had picked up a very odd woman indeed.

Notes: I just find the dynamics of Mukuro/Chrome- especially their future selves- to be something interesting to play with, so I think the classic 30_kisses theme fits them very well and want to try it as a self-challenge (along with everything else I'm juggling, ha). Thanks for reading.

PS: Always in need of het pairing suggestions for this project. So if there's a hetero ship you want to see me write, feel free to PM or leave a review and let me know.