𝗠𝗶𝘀𝗵𝗮˚₊🍀🍎˙⋆

Violence and killing go against everything that shapes who he is. He is an athlete at heart, he was built on sportsmanship, on fairness, on fighting with honor, on pushing past limits without stepping into cruelty

He carries the Sun Flame of healing, a flame meant to restore, not destroy. it isn’t hard to imagine him one day becoming a doctor. But the ethics of saving lives stand in complete opposition to the notion of ending them

Unlike Takeshi, who is a natural-born killer.

Unlike Hayato and Mukuro, who were born into a world of blood.

Unlike Hibari, who hungers endlessly for violence

And it’s Iemitsu’s hands over Tsuna’s eyes, Bianchi covering Hayato’s ears, and Tsuyoshi’s palm over Takeshi’s mouth.

prepares detailed health regimens tailored for each of them: what they should eat, how they should move, how much they should sleep. he expects every Guardian to read theirs. Not just to glance at it—but to follow it. Because he’s trying to keep them alive.

And they mostly brush it off. Not out of cruelty, but because they’re used to surviving by chaos. Mukuro most of all.

Mukuro doesn’t believe in the Mafia’s ability to protect him. Why would he? They used him. Abandoned him. Labeled him a criminal, then dragged him back in when it suited them. So when he’s injured, he doesn’t report it. He doesn’t seek help.

But then there’s Ryohei.

Ryohei, who runs a clinic outside Vongola territory. Ryohei, who tells him, “It’s not Mafia-funded. You can come in. No strings.” And Mukuro… Mukuro doesn’t trust him exactly. But he doesn't not trust him either. And that, for Mukuro, is monumental.

He shows up one day with a dislocated shoulder. Silent. Defensive. Ready to leave if Ryohei makes even one wrong move.

But Ryohei doesn’t. He doesn’t ask how it happened. He doesn’t say “you should’ve come sooner.” He just gestures him inside and mutters something about needing to get Hibari a new sleep schedule, because his current one is “medically offensive.” And just like that, Mukuro stays.

They build something out of it. Something slow and strange. A routine that exists outside Mafia politics and Vongola hierarchy. Ryohei offers real medical advice. Mukuro pretends to ignore it and then quietly follows it.

Mukuro doesn’t suddenly become soft. He’s still sharp-tongued, still cynical, still carries the weight of his past like a second spine. And Ryohei doesn’t stop being disciplined, doesn’t let things slide just because it’s Mukuro. He still demands follow-ups.

Still drops off food plans. Still checks his pulse with those serious doctor-eyes like "I will drag you back here if you don’t take care of yourself"

+1 :

Ryohei grew up with Kyoko; the most polite girl in the world in public, and an absolute gossip machine behind closed doors. And now, in his clinic, he uses it the way pediatricians use lollipops: to build trust.

And Mukuro LOVES gossip.

I wanted to share this here too 😼