Chapter Text
At the wise age of 15, few things frightened Mukuro. He had witnessed and conjured enough horrors in his life to the point where no atrocity could faze him now.
But nightmares were cruel. They reached deep into your subconscious without warning and ripped away what little control you had over your mind. They plunged you into horrifically realistic visions, they made you weak, and they struck terror so deep within you that even an illusionist like Mukuro couldn’t grasp the strings of his mind to regain control.
So when Mukuro woke up with a start, his eyes burning with unshed tears and his hands trembling as they clutched the sheets, he couldn’t help but bark out a frantic, bitter laugh at himself, at his own weakness.
He had felt everything, it was too vivid. The needles and tubes piercing his skin, the wire clip forcing his eye open, the blinding white light shining down on him upon the lab table. He had screamed. He heard his voice echo around the stark white walls. It was before he became desensitized to the experiments— before he became scornful of the world and therefore stronger.
Mukuro scratched at his arms, still feeling the needles pricking his skin. The room he was in melded in and out of the lab from his dreams. He could feel his panic rise as he did a double take on his unfamiliar surroundings. This wasn’t Kokuyo. Where was he? He needed to get back to Kokuyo. He needed to find the others. He was in danger.
Then a hand grabbed his wrist.
He blindly shoved away whoever was next to him, and twisted around in the sheets only to find a very unsettled Hibari staring at him. There was a long pause as neither of them made a move. Even the prefect seemed at a loss for words as he awkwardly dropped his hand back on the blankets.
“...You’re at my apartment.”
Oh, right. It all came back to him. Hibari had (somehow wordlessly) invited him over, and now they were sharing a bed. Funny how that happened.
Mukuro took a shaky breath, trying to compose himself and think of a biting remark. Even if their rivalry had... developed, he still had a reputation to keep up in front of the Cloud guardian. He was honestly mortified to have shown himself in this state to someone outside of Kokuyo.
But before he could muster up any sort of coherent response, Hibari took hold of his sleeve and pulled him back down onto the bed. “Go back to sleep,” he mumbled, looking only slightly irritated.
Being in the middle of a panic attack didn’t stop Mukuro from blue-screening as he felt Hibari gingerly wrap his arms around him. The motion was awkward, clearly from lack of affection his whole life. Mukuro wasn’t sure what he had expected. Indeed even Hibari wouldn’t be cruel enough to ridicule him for being in this state, yet his gentleness was very much a surprise—and Mukuro had to admit, it was certainly not an unwelcome one.
It took nearly an hour for him to calm down.
Hibari didn’t seem to mind as Mukuro clung harder to him with each bout of panic, when the plaster walls would flash into sterile tiles, when he’d feel the sting of needles in his arms again. If anything the cloud guardian would hold him tighter, and his presence would ground Mukuro once again.
By the time his vision finally went still, Mukuro still wasn’t feeling any better at all.
That was fine.
The silence was much welcomed compared to how the Kokuyo gang would fuss over him back at home, the way they’d pull his shaken form into a pile and keep him distracted until the tremors subsided. It worked, he appreciated it deep down, but there were times when it was too much, or not enough. When the horrific thoughts in his head were only suppressed until the next nightmare.
Here, he could just exist. He could heal at his own pace and sort through his thoughts in silence, and if the memories became too much, he could always bring his attention back to the person holding him.
It took Mukuro another hour to fall back asleep. He woke up to sunlight filtering in through the blinds and Hibari’s arms still wrapped tightly around him. It seemed to be late morning, and he didn’t miss how the clock had ticked far past the time when Namimori was meant to start school.