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Long ago, before you were born, before your parents were born, before their parents or grandparents or great-grandparents were born, gods roamed the earth. They roamed in groups their believers called families, going from town to town and protecting those that worshipped them. The Vongola, the Varia, the Cavallone, the Simon, and the Kokuyo were only a few of those families.
Most of the families were led by a Sky and their guardians, each of whom with the ability to call upon an element to best serve their people- the Sun, the Rain, the Storm, the Lightning, the Mist, and the Cloud. Some families, like the Vongola, had almost a complete set with some additional elements as well. Others, like the Kokuyo, did not even have a Sky to lead them.
The primary role of the Sun and Rain were to ensure the crops grew tall and plentiful, so their people ate well through the Winter. Unfortunately for the Kokuyo people, Chikusa the Assassin and Ken the Shifter did not have the same ability to bend the elements to their wills that their fellow Rains and Suns did. Their abilities lent themselves better to calling rain that burned through cloth and skin and sunlight so powerful it scorched the earth.
And so, the Kokuyo people made their own way in the world as wanderers, furiously guarded by their gods who could not protect them from the wrath of nature and fate.
After a particularly harsh Winter, Mukuro the Avenger declared war on the other families for the other gods stood by and watched as the Kokuyo wanderers starved, no matter how much the Kokuyo family pleaded on their people’s behalf. He vowed to take the same number of lives from each families’ people that he lost from his own.
The second Mist of the Kokuyo was Kuromu the Elusive, the chosen sister of Mukuro. Where he focused his illusions on the offensive, she devised tricks and traps to ensnare their enemies and keep them away from their people. Her ability to call upon the mist itself far outpaced Mukuro’s as she used it often to cloak the wanderers, so they seemingly vanished into thin air. While Mukuro, Chikusa, and Ken frequently went to rain vengeance down on the other families, Kuromu always remained with their people as the last line of defense.
The frequent attacks and clashes did not stop the Cavallone Storm and Mist from slipping past the frontlines to attack the Kokuyo people however. Kuromu’s mazes and traps kept the Cavallone away long enough to hide her people in a shroud of mist. Yet, she herself was unable to retreat with them and was gravely injured in the skirmish while the Cavallone guardians escaped unharmed.
This fight happened not far from where a new Vongola village was being built under the watchful eyes of Kyoya the Defender, Kyoko the Knitter, and Haru the Creator. And so, a child who had gone into the woods to play, tugged at Kyoko’s skirts and told her that he had seen someone who needed help.
Ever the faithful healer, Kyoko dropped what she was doing and followed the boy into the woods. The boy pointed to a flowering cherry tree Kuromu was leaning against with her well-known trident in her hand. Kyoko sent the boy away and got to work.
Kuromu could not help but ask her why. Why would she, a Vongola mist, help one of the Kokuyo Mists with whom her family was currently fighting a war against?
Kyoko did not stop washing away the blood and guiding her illusionary thread to bind together sliced skin and broken bones as she answered. “I am no fighter, nor much of a defender, but my people know that I will never turn away someone who needs healing or clothes to be made new.”
Kuromu smiled as faint as late morning fog. “Mine trust me to keep bandits and murderers and all who seek to harm them away,” she whispered, “but that only works against mortals and weaker gods. I fear the day any of the Arcobaleno, the Varia’s Xanxus, or your Tsunayoshi bring this war to them.”
Kyoko had no answer at that moment. She simply finished her work, helped Kuromu to her feet, and watched her limp away into the mist.
Kuromu would later sit beside the Kokuyo elders around the nightly fire and stare at the almost invisible threads holding her skin together. A broad grin would paint Ken’s face when he found that speeding her recovery was even easier due to the stitches holding her skin and bones together. “Maybe you’re not so bad if you can come up with something like this, byon,” he’d say.
Kuromu would say nothing, neither claiming ‘her’ invention nor mentioning Kyoko at all. However, she did not forget the Knitter’s kindness.
The war continued.
In their wanderings, the Kokuyo had mapped almost the entirity of each family’s territory. So when multi-color flames lit up the night sky, able to be seen for miles, it did not take long for Kuromu to know it was Vongola territory. Normally, she ignored the bursts of flame, but on this night, her fellow guardians were with her also staring up into the sky.
Mukuro laughed and turned away. Served them right was all he said. Kuromu gripped her trident and bit her lip, glancing down at a faint scar on her arm.
“Do you need me tonight?” she asked.
Mukuro scoffed, called her weak for sympathizing with their enemy, but ultimately waved her off. If only to discover if the alliance was turning on each other or a new player entered the field.
Kuromu slipped from shadow to shadow until she knelt in the shadow of a village house. The attackers were unfamiliar to her, but the situation wasn’t. She called the mist to her and blanketed the town with it.
One by one, she whispered into the villagers’ ears. “Come with me to where it’s safe.” One by one, the villagers who should not have heard her but who had been praying for someone, anyone to save them, listened and followed.
Kuromu stayed with them until she saw the Vongola guardians approach. When Kyoko reached the villagers, she stared in awe at the silver mist clinging to their clothes. “Who came when we didn’t?” she asked.
The villagers answered that they did not know. A goddess, one said. A goddess who called upon the mist to shield them from the eyes of their enemies.
Knitter, do you know who it was?
Kyoko did not answer her people nor did she answer Tsunayoshi and his guardians when they asked her. Instead, she healed her people’s wounds and mended their clothes, occasionally looking off into the night as if she could catch a glimpse of Kuromu and maybe get the chance to thank her.
When a band of Kokuyo wanderers entered a Vongola town, Kyoko got her chance. She greeted them with a bright smile and gentle hands. Mending their clothes and handing them warm bowls of food, she led them to a place where they could rest for the night.
And when their tireless guard slipped into the town as well, Kyoko silently took her by the hand. Leading her through the shadowy alleys and up a patch of wall, they sat beneath the stars and watched the Kokuyo wanderers prepare for sleep.
Kuromu found it hard to focus on her people. They were safe; it was easy to see. Instead, her gaze rested on Kyoko who told stories by the dozens with broad smiles, ringing giggles, and waving hands. Between them laid her trident within reach of both should either choose to take it.
When dawn came, Kuromu stood, bowed to Kyoko, and slid down the wall to await her people. She stood in the shade of a flowering tree as Kyoko waved goodbye in the light.
Kuromu left with her people and a vision of golden highlighted hair framing a smiling face. Kyoko stayed with hers and a memory of a shy relief in violet eyes.
The war changed one night. Alliances shifted; antagonists changed.
Kyoko was in the trading center by chance, having checked in and out with a Vongola caraven throughout their travels. Kuromu was there because her current group of wanderers were. The two mists exchanged stories, using illusions small enough to hold in their hands to share some of the sights they had seen- a sunset, a sunrise, a herd of deer, a baby rabbit. The stars twinkled above them as the moon began to rise.
It started with bursts of flames just outside the walls. It started with screams. It started with prayers- Knitter, my brothers! Elusive, our children!
Kyoko and Kuromu gathered the people- Kokuyo, Cavallone, Vongola, and Varia alike. They listened to the whispered prayers calling for guardians miles away.
“Can you hide them while they run?” Kyoko asked. “Like you did last time?”
“Where would they run to?” Kuromu said, watching the flames burst in all directions.
A girl buried her face in Kyoko’s skirts, and she ran a hand down the girl’s back. “Your traps?”
“Would only delay them.” Kuromu spun her trident in her hands.
Kyoko sighed. She looked around at the people gathered around them. Parents shushed their children; siblings stood side by side; travelers whose guardians despised each other passed out what little weapons they had. As if they stood a chance against gods.
A knitter and a trickster. Kyoko scoffed. What they needed was a shield.
And that was it. She grabbed Kuromu’s sleeve and said, “Call the mist.”
Kuromu slammed her trident on the ground. Silver mist rose from the earth and spun around the people. “It won’t hold, Kyoko.”
“Yes it will.” Kyoko gripped the mist in her illusions and forced it together. Up and down, over and under until it formed a dome around the people. Kuromu stared at the mist tinged indigo with illusions. She looked at Kyoko who stood with a broad smile despite the sweat dripping down her face. “It’s harder to break thread that is knitted together,” she said.
A smile split Kuromu’s face. Clasping Kyoko’s hands, she said, “Show me.” And Kyoko did.
The two stood before the people, hand in hand, pouring their flames into the illusions powering the shield. They flinched back when enemy flames slammed against the wall. Their feet dug into the dirt as they unconsciously brace themselves for the next assault. Behind them, the people whispered.
Finally, the attacks stopped. Finally, Kyoko sagged into Kuromu’s arms with a quiet, “Tsuna-kun’s here.” Finally, Mukuro reached through their connection to tell Kuromu it was over.
Together, they took down the shield. Together, they stood before the new alliance. The Vongola surged forward with joyful words.
Look at our Knitter and our Shield! A new mist for Vongola- Kuromu the Shield!
The Kokuyo pointed towards Kyoko with smiles.
Avenger, look at our new mist. Our Protector. They call her Kyoko.
Mukuro sighed and glared at Tsunayoshi who shrugged in response. He waved his hand at Kuromu and Kyoko and told them to do what they want. He had bigger fish to fry.
Tsunayoshi agreed. The Millefiore could not be allowed to take advantage of the other families’ distraction.
“You can leave them in our hands, Tsuna-kun,” Kyoko said.
“We’ll protect them, Mukuro-sama.”
And so a new alliance between the Vongola and Kokuyo was formed through their shared mists. The Cavallone and Varia peoples would return home with whispers of new goddesses who would protect any who called upon them. Eventually, Kuromu the Elusive of Kokuyo and Kyoko the Knitter of Vongola were forgotten.
In their place, stood Kuromu and Kyoko the Shield and Protector of all.