That Ken is alright and just as violent and filthy as ever is a reassurance. In fact, Chikusa doesn’t even realize how much of a reassurance it is until he’s sagging back against Mukuro again. He certainly doesn’t realize the look on his face, a tension he hadn’t known was there being wiped away by relief.

“I thought…” He doesn’t bother to finish the sentence. If he’d been targeted, after all, perhaps Ken had been as well. But that’s ridiculous, isn’t it? Of course no one would go after Ken. He’s no illusionist, not like Mukuro-sama or Chrome or Fran, but he’s more lethal than anything especially when people dismiss him as an idiot. There’s an animalistic cunning to Ken that’s carried him through. Nothing like the kind of thinking Mukuro deals in daily, but something perfectly suited to the battlefield or hunting down opponents. Would something like this have happened to Ken? Chikusa doubts it. He would have seen enemies coming a mile away, have smelled their intent and heard the rustle of weaponry.

If anyone would want to get to Mukuro…. Of course Chikusa would be the target.
“...I would never, Mukuro-sama…. It’s the least I can do for you…” Perhaps the only thing it feels like at times.