Chapter Text
Mukuro is in a bit of a pickle.
Now usually, it would take a lot of torture in Vindice's own specialty made hell for him to even consider admitting that fact. However, this particular problem was of the Vongola variety and Mukuro found no shame in admitting to himself that he was probably going to need help with this one.
Fran, who looked about 5, yawned and nuzzled closer to his neck from where he was on Mukuro's shoulders.
Chrome, who looked somewhere around 9 or 8, was held by Mukuro's right arm to his chest, where she was clutching onto his shirt with all the strength of a drugged up Storm Arcobaleno.
Fuuta who looked about his regular age thank god, was holding his left hand, while looking around with worried eyes.
And Mukuro himself, 16 instead of 20.
With 3 kids. Well, two kids and one sensible 14 year old.
Fuck Vongola, Fuck the Bovino and especially fuck the 10 year bazooka and whoever decided to give it to Lambo. When Mukuro finds who is responsible there will be consequences.
Still, he couldn't lay all the blame on the 10 year old Lighting Guardian. There were lots of other people to blame as well. Like the inventors who decided to move the experimental stuff away from the lab.
He wonders whose idea it was to dump the experimental stuff in the lounge they knew Mukuro and Chrome liked to spend their occasional relaxing discussions at. Fuuta and Fran being present in the discussion had been a unfortunate coincidence.
Still, matter of the fact is that 4 people got caught up in the explosion that happened.
He was going to strangle someone. Preferably Tsunayoshi.
Mukuro tried to keep his eye from twitching as he felt Fran's drool drip onto his neck and down his back.
Okay, He was in an unknown place, with 3 kids. It has already been 5 minutes and that confirms it's not the 10-year-bazooka at fault here.
So, the experiment had to involve some kind of transportation and time stuff, because 3 people out of four were the wrong age and no matter how Mukuro looked around the street they'd been displaced into it was not the Vongola Mansion or anywhere remotely familiar.
First of all, at a glance he could see quite a few billboards, the language was Japanese at least. Loads of people milling about, a lot of advanced technology that he connected to the 10 year bazooka at first.
Oh dear. He wasn't in 2010's Japan anymore was he?
His grip on Fuuta's hand tightened a little as the boy was almost bumped into by a man rushing by. It looked like morning rush, if what he glanced at the salary mans watch was right.
So a time discrepancy also. It had been a lovely afternoon before they got hit with whatever it was that messed their ages and sent them here.
Also, if he didn't mention it yet, there was also mutant people. Humans with cat ears, someone with a crocodile face, some one with pencils for fingers and there went another whose skin seemed to be made of liquid and oh god he could see their internal organs.
That was very unnecessary.
Mukuro gives out a deep sigh.
This was very decidedly not his world either.
"Rokudou-san?" Fuuta says, tone very nervous as his gaze shifts from one lizard-man to another person with horns.
"All right, first a library." He says, making sure Fran and Chrome are secure before tugging Fuuta along.
It takes a little while before they find a library since they have no phones and the money they do have are Euros Mukuro suspects won't be valid here.
But they do eventually find a library, public one but needs must and Mukuro steps in with confidence. Fuuta following behind him.
They open the browser only to get blindsided by the recommended sites. It takes Mukuro an entire 10 minutes to swallow the bullshit this world operates on.
80% of the population has what one calls a quirk. The rise of superpowers have lent itself to a system of Heroes as a job and criminals getting labeled villains. Mafia has been all but obliterated everywhere, expect the darkest parts of Italy.
Mukuro feels conflicted.
Mukuro wonders if he's entered some twisted utopia. His dream has come true, there is no mafia but at what cost, what cost indeed.
At least the Mafia is a relatively nice gradient of grays and blacks.
It seems like here all criminals are painted with the black and white brush of justice, be they an orphan child stealing food for survival or a terrorist trying to incite war.
He finds it all very distasteful. Fuuta though gets rather into it. He seems very eager to rank the things unique to this world, though Mukuro is curious whether his power will still work.
As a matter of fact, the ranking prince is still the ranking prince.
The 14 year old proves himself an invaluable asset once they manage to find a secluded corner. They test it out easy with some basics.
The strongest heroes, the weakest ones, most popular, most potential.
After that is when Mukuro asks the boy to rank them some essential stuff. Fran has been drooling into his neck for more than an hour and Mukuro is now convinced the two baby mists he's carrying have temporarily also been placed into the mindset they had at this age.
So they get to work. He has 3 kids to feed.
Ways to get money, best hiding places, the quickest route to them, the cheapest and closest convenience store.
The library has served it's purpose after that. They got the basic knowledge they needed and now was the time to go look for a reliable temporary base.
With Fuuta's ranking, they find a suitable place in the first 20 minutes. It's a rackety old industrial building, abandoned but still with electricity and water.
Mukuro makes this their temporary base, placing Fuuta on babysitting duty while he goes to get them some papers and money.
Papers first.
Having solid papers is the most important thing when you're what basically constitutes as an illegal immigrant.
Fran being reduced to toddler who speaks only French doesn't help. Chrome is also strictly speaking Japanese but at least Fuuta still has 5 languages banked in.
He goes and steals the needed identification documents and some more, grabs a little cash from a few ridiculous looking hero merchandise stores and comes back.
Fuuta stares at the papers he's sorting with a kind of resignation only someone used to dealing with the Vongola could.
To start the basics, they need to lay it in the truths.
Mukuro creates a small fake family for them.
Thankfully, the three kids are all B blood type, lucky him, and Mukuro is an O type so it's fine. Believable, they would have been in trouble if they'd been all different.
Rokudou Mukuro is the oldest son of two deceased lawyers he creates, with three siblings. Rokudou Fuuta, Kuromu and Furan.
He winces at Fran's name and tries to come with a convincing Kanji combinations. Fran will have to deal with a distinctly female name but he's 5 and can't retort back right now so he figures it's fine.
He probably won't regret that decision.
He's inclined to believe it's reasonable because while he was getting the papers he saw a few of the names of the police officers.
Names here were ridiculous.
Someone named Mizuno would have a water related quirk and someone with Morino as surname would have a forest related quirk.
Well, for the quirk registrations he had an easy time because 3 were mists and ranking was a convenient choice for a quirk.
The same inherited quirk from their mother he put down. Constructed illusions. Although he added the slightest variation to them.
One thing he had noted the moment he had been transported here was Chrome's condition. 9 year old Chrome still had all her organs and didn't need to be supported by mist constructs.
Her quirk would be more construct focused, his own more psychological and Fran's he noted as a more general mention of it being the same with the limitations still unknown because the boy was 5.
Fuuta at least had a fun time filling in the form about his cool quirk now named Ranking.
He seriously lucked out getting Fuuta. He can't even imagine what it would have been like if it had been Lambo. Even I-pin was a disaster in the wrong hands and Mukuro was definitely the wrong hands.
Now.
Knowing the Vongola way of operaton, it could go either way. Mukuro and his kiddie luggage could be stuck here for another minute or 5 months. It won't go beyond a year though, unless there was a time discrepancy.
And dear lord there probably was. For all he knew that was the reason for the age regression.
Mukuro had entered this dimension for 3 hours and already felt more than fed up.
All he could do was wait for them to fix their experiment and get them back.
The Vongola will pay dearly for this.