"No," he groused, reaching up to the arm of an armchair. He was already exhausted and his fingers slid off the fabric several times before he could get a grip on the rounded edge. Even then, he almost lost his hold again trying to pull his body upright. Only one arm was of any use to him, and it strained to lift him up enough that he could tuck his legs beneath him and begin to make an attempt to stand. Mukuro was forced to rest slumped over the chair's arm while he caught his breath and recouped some of his strength.

When this was over and he had recovered, he would repay Gokudera many-fold for his treatment of him. Mukuro had no desire to reform himself. He did not need anyone to do it for him. In fact he rather liked the irony in existing as such a depraved, spiteful being who took perverse pleasure in crushing individuals just like himself. Wasn't it often said: 'It takes one to know one'? He was the dark side of the Family which Tsuna needed; the one who understood the filthy underhanded tricks humans used to further their own wants. Gokudera was only going to ruin his effectiveness at his role through this 'discipline'.