On a logical level, Chikusa knows he’s earned his place.
Mukuro didn’t have time for a useless tool, when they were younger, and Chikusa knows enough now to read between the lines. A man doesn’t let himself go to prison because he feels nothing for the people he’s saving from the same fate. Yet what a flawed thing the human mind is, latching onto an idea and twisting it until it’s something terrible. Useless. Useless because the scientists had said so, murmuring to one another in bland tones about how he wasn’t living up to expectations and uncaring that his twisted body was still on the floor conscious and listening. Useless because he’d known from the start that he’d have to work that much harder, staring longingly at Ken’s physical prowess and Mukuro’s everything.
The Estraneo had been prepared to abandon him for dead so easily, just another broken child not performing like they wanted. It’s hard to forget that. Hard to forget, but not as hard to lessen the effects of, and Mukuro’s grip on him and his kiss push it to the edges of Chikusa’s mind instead of the forefront. Right. Mukuro would never let go of him, not like this, not willingly. He’s owned, and that fact will never stop being one of his greatest reliefs. “As you wish, Maestro,” he murmurs, as though it isn’t a relief. Slowly, he starts to sink down into the water, his grip on Mukuro wanting to bring him down with him.
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Mukuro didn’t have time for a useless tool, when they were younger, and Chikusa knows enough now to read between the lines. A man doesn’t let himself go to prison because he feels nothing for the people he’s saving from the same fate.
Yet what a flawed thing the human mind is, latching onto an idea and twisting it until it’s something terrible. Useless. Useless because the scientists had said so, murmuring to one another in bland tones about how he wasn’t living up to expectations and uncaring that his twisted body was still on the floor conscious and listening. Useless because he’d known from the start that he’d have to work that much harder, staring longingly at Ken’s physical prowess and Mukuro’s everything.
The Estraneo had been prepared to abandon him for dead so easily, just another broken child not performing like they wanted. It’s hard to forget that.
Hard to forget, but not as hard to lessen the effects of, and Mukuro’s grip on him and his kiss push it to the edges of Chikusa’s mind instead of the forefront. Right. Mukuro would never let go of him, not like this, not willingly. He’s owned, and that fact will never stop being one of his greatest reliefs. “As you wish, Maestro,” he murmurs, as though it isn’t a relief. Slowly, he starts to sink down into the water, his grip on Mukuro wanting to bring him down with him.