Sometime after Gokudera had left to attend to his duties, the half cup of soup Mukuro had not managed to drink had somehow ended up spilt across the bedsheets and the floor. The illusionist had managed to extricate his good arm from the blankets and lift up his blindfold to see the damage, but was too weak to take any measures to clean it up. So for hours he had lain in bed with the tempting smell of soup lingering in the room, causing his stomach to growl at intervals. With no other sustenance provided by the Storm, Mukuro had tried to conserve energy by sleeping, merging thoughts with Chrome to explain his absence. Still confident of his ability to see Gokudera's strange disciplinary game through, he left out the less bloody details of their encounter for now and assured her he was being taken care of.

Hearing a door open and shut, then footsteps, he opened his eyes and pulled away from Chrome's presence. His broken nose forced him to breathe through his mouth, which had left his lips quite dry by the time Gokudera returned. Licking those lips, he rasped a reply.

"Peggio ancora, per vedere il tuo viso," he said. Eyes lidded with contempt, he carefully rolled on to his side and presented his shoulder to the other Guardian.