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almondinflower2008-11-02 04:11 pm
fromastudio) wrote in almondinflower2008-11-02 04:11 pm
Entry tags:
A Day in the Life of Hibari Kyouya [Hibari, Mukuro, gen]
A Day in the Life of Hibari Kyouya
Summary: Character study/vignette-type thing, as per title. Set sometime vaguely in the future, when the boys are in high school. There was meant to be more Mukuro but eh. I struggle with describing how Kyouya perceives Mukuro.
Wordcount: 1700
Notes: You know, I cannot write Reborn fic, blah blah blah, quality disclaimers, the usual. It's also a tad unpolished; the part of my brain that writes coherent prose seems to be semi-broken atm. Written while procrastinating on a Dino/Xanxus drabble for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ashesto, which pretty much sums up how I feel about writing Dino/Xanxus, really.
THERE ARE A ZILLION TYPOS IN THIS THING, APPARENTLY, SO IF ANYTHING SEEMS TO BE DOING STRANGE THINGS TO THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE I WILL LOVE YOU FOR CORRECTIONS. ALSO IF ANYONE CAN SUGGEST A BETTER TITLE, PLEASE HELP ME.
“I should like to possess his body.” The figure smiled gently. Two eyes (one blue, one red) watched carefully for a reaction.
Hibari Kyouya waited. Rokudo Mukuro’s desires meant nothing to him, and they both knew it.
“His target is the Vongola,” continued the other man. “He has the means to seriously harm Tsuna, should he wish to do so.”
Meaningless statements again. “Is he strong?”
The smile was broader and more malicious now. “About Yamamoto’s level.”
“I see. Well, I’ll bite him to death if I see him.” Hibari checked his wristwatch.
Mukuro shrugged, but looked satisfied, and then faded away. Only Chrome remained, blinking as she came back to her own body. Hibari ignored her and walked off. That conversation had nearly thrown him off-schedule.
#
If he thought about it he could still remember the weight of Mukuro’s heel bearing down on his body, crushing him, the sounds of breaking bone; the simple, detached pleasure of the other man as he leaned down and slowly, languorously bent limbs to their snapping point. Most of the time Hibari chose not to think about it; it was almost a subconscious decision. What was past was irrelevant. Revenge was for petty herbivores.
Still, if he allowed that memory of being weak, to surface—
There were delinquents gathered at the gates of Namimori High when he arrived. Not peculiar in itself, but peculiar for a school morning. Usually they liked to wait until after dark, when there would be no outside interference and they could gang up on Hibari as they pleased (which suited Hibari just fine, since that meant he could fight them all by himself. Of course, fighting in daylight wasn’t bad either).
This group was unusual in the timing of its attack. At some point it occurred to him, as he whirled with his tonfas and began inflicting bruises and fractured cheekbones, that his opponents also seemed unusual in another sense. They were older, somewhat better-dressed than your typical high school gang. And they fought surprisingly well.
Not that it really mattered. They were in Namimori, they were gathered in a herd as if they were grass-eating creatures, and he felt like biting them to death.
About two minutes had passed, and he’d taken out about a dozen men, when he saw one of them snake past him and out the school gate. This man moved faster than the others, and had managed to stay at the periphery of the brawl so that Hibari’s attacks had missed him. He ran out onto the road now, gaze intent on something, and it was then that Hibari noticed Tsuna and his classmates, who just coming up the sidewalk.
The man lifted a gun and aimed it at Tsuna--
-- Gokudera double-bombed him, just as Hibari finished off the remaining delinquents with one outward sweep of his left tonfa, and that was the end of it.
“You beat me to it,” said Yamamoto pleasantly, lowering his baseball bat, but he looked irked at having his fun taken away from him.
Gokudera smirked, looking immeasurably pleased at having protected the Tenth. Tsuna was wearing a pained what-not-again expression.
The school bell rang. Hibari was about to say, “Go to class or I’ll bite you to death,” but they’d already run off, Tsuna and Yamamoto waving at him as they disappeared indoors.
#
In the end he had to go look up the man Mukuro had mentioned, simply because it was the same man who was disturbing the peace of Namimori, as confirmed by a cursory search of the wallets on the fallen intruders. Hibari added the money he'd pocketed from them to the Disciplinary Committee budget and then did some computer hacking. The mobster in question specialised in drug smuggling; more a petty crime lord than a true mafioso. That information didn't interest Hibari much. He searched for the location of the mobster's headquarters; it was in Tokyo, but it was a fair distance from Namimori. It would take up his entire evening, getting there and back. The man had better be as strong as Mukuro had promised, or else Hibari was going to be pissed off.
He set off, briefly considering sending a message to Tetsuya via Hibird, but rejecting the idea within moments. If he started doing this kind of thing people would start expecting it of him. And Tetsuya already knew to keep Namimori secure when Hibari wasn't around.
It took him an hour on foot to get there. The mobster's headquarters was a western-style mansion with a large compound and a security booth on the other side of the spiked metalwork gate. Hibari leaped over the fence easily and landed on the inside. The security guard gaped at him through the window of the booth, and said, “Just who are you--”
“I'm here to bite you to death,” Hibari said, and knocked him unconscious just as a screeching alarm went off and men began pouring out of the doors of the mansion. There were hundreds and hundreds of them. This number of men would have looked ridiculous even next to Dino's entourage. It wasn't so much a herd as it was a swarm of houseflies.
Well, he'd swat them all.
For many minutes – he always lost track of time during fights - there was nothing but movement and the impact of wood on flesh. His blood was singing.
Eventually he made it to the doors of the mansion, a wake of bodies behind him. Inside, there were more and more defenders. Several bullets grazed him but missed; he took the gunmen down without stopping to think. Somebody rushed at him with a hunting knife; he broke that person's nose and smashed someone else's ribs in one swift movement. He proceeded like this through the entrance hall and then a corridor; up one winding staircase and through what appeared to be a library. Some of the defenders might have been decoys to lead him away from the boss but it didn't really bother him either way. He'd take them all down regardless.
Finally there was an eerie silence in the building; there was no one left except the bodies of the unconscious, slumped against walls, draped across banisters, lying crookedly in puddles of their own blood. Some of the men had run away.
Hibari stepped across the the battlefield of the fallen. He walked past beautiful furnishings and unbeautiful, wounded bodyguards. One of them raised a pistol and tried to shoot him in the leg; Hibari kicked it out of his hand.
He'd just crossed a carpeted landing and was about to keep searching when his senses pricked up; there was a bristly unpleasantness all through his body.
He knew that feeling. It was illusion.
Hibari strode over to the nearest door and opened it.
An European man in an expensive suit walked out, holding a slender trident. One eye was red and the other blue. He smiled condescendingly when he saw Hibari.
“How lovely to meet you, Hibari-san,” he said. “I must congratulate you on getting this far.”
Mukuro had gotten here first. Hibari suppressed the sudden, overwhelming flare of frustration, at being deprived of the fight he'd been looking forward to.
Then Mukuro tilted his head to one side, a subtle but unmistakable challenge in those mismatched eyes, and the initial sense of thwartedness gave way to a greater, fiercer desire for another battle, one Hibari had been waiting even longer for.
He raised his tonfa. “I told you this morning,” he said, “If I saw this man, I'd bite him to death.”
Mukuro smiled and poised his trident – that was an illusion too, Hibari could feel it. Hibari shifted into position, readying his limbs to strike--
A sudden blurring of motion, and then Yamamoto was standing between the two of them. Smiling cheerfully, with his bamboo sword held ready to defend. Hibari blinked, and turned.
Tsuna was making his way up the stairs, Gokudera and the baby with him. The happy-go-lucky boxing club member followed behind them. Even the bushy-haired cow-skinned child was there. It was the entire herd. Hibari felt an unhappy, claustrophobic feeling rising up within him.
“You're all right!” Tsuna said, coming closer – though not too close. He'd perfected it by now, the art of giving Hibari just enough personal space. “Kusakabe said you were missing, I was really worried – and Mukuro!” He turned, barely seeming to notice that Mukuro was in a body that was neither his own or Chrome's. “I didn't expect to see you here.”
The remainder of Tsuna's coterie crowded around, making varied and largely senseless noises. “If you hadn't gotten lost, octopus head, we could have helped as well!” - “Shut up, you lawn head, it's not like you can read a map.” - “Lambo wants to PLAY TOOOOO!” --
There was nothing for it but to lower his weapons. Mukuro's trident disappeared, and Yamamoto, sensing the dissipating threat, sheathed Shigure Kintoki.
Within about five minutes the sheer amount of socialness overwhelmed Hibari so much that he bit them all to death (Reborn excepted; and Mukuro had already vanished together with his latest addition to his body collection) and walked home by himself.
#
And that was the way it went every time, really. Whenever he thought he'd finally bite that illusion-user to death, chance or coincidence or Tsuna happened along to interrupt. It didn't help that Mukuro seemed to be enjoying the delays and possibly was the cause of some of them.
He'd keep waiting. Self-control was tiresome – but as Reborn or Dino would say, it just might be more fun that way. As long as he kept watching that strange, evolving herbivore that was Tsuna, Mukuro would be there, too, and their paths would cross again.
Hibari would even the score. Better – he would settle it.
Summary: Character study/vignette-type thing, as per title. Set sometime vaguely in the future, when the boys are in high school. There was meant to be more Mukuro but eh. I struggle with describing how Kyouya perceives Mukuro.
Wordcount: 1700
Notes: You know, I cannot write Reborn fic, blah blah blah, quality disclaimers, the usual. It's also a tad unpolished; the part of my brain that writes coherent prose seems to be semi-broken atm. Written while procrastinating on a Dino/Xanxus drabble for
ashesto, which pretty much sums up how I feel about writing Dino/Xanxus, really. THERE ARE A ZILLION TYPOS IN THIS THING, APPARENTLY, SO IF ANYTHING SEEMS TO BE DOING STRANGE THINGS TO THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE I WILL LOVE YOU FOR CORRECTIONS. ALSO IF ANYONE CAN SUGGEST A BETTER TITLE, PLEASE HELP ME.
“I should like to possess his body.” The figure smiled gently. Two eyes (one blue, one red) watched carefully for a reaction.
Hibari Kyouya waited. Rokudo Mukuro’s desires meant nothing to him, and they both knew it.
“His target is the Vongola,” continued the other man. “He has the means to seriously harm Tsuna, should he wish to do so.”
Meaningless statements again. “Is he strong?”
The smile was broader and more malicious now. “About Yamamoto’s level.”
“I see. Well, I’ll bite him to death if I see him.” Hibari checked his wristwatch.
Mukuro shrugged, but looked satisfied, and then faded away. Only Chrome remained, blinking as she came back to her own body. Hibari ignored her and walked off. That conversation had nearly thrown him off-schedule.
If he thought about it he could still remember the weight of Mukuro’s heel bearing down on his body, crushing him, the sounds of breaking bone; the simple, detached pleasure of the other man as he leaned down and slowly, languorously bent limbs to their snapping point. Most of the time Hibari chose not to think about it; it was almost a subconscious decision. What was past was irrelevant. Revenge was for petty herbivores.
Still, if he allowed that memory of being weak, to surface—
There were delinquents gathered at the gates of Namimori High when he arrived. Not peculiar in itself, but peculiar for a school morning. Usually they liked to wait until after dark, when there would be no outside interference and they could gang up on Hibari as they pleased (which suited Hibari just fine, since that meant he could fight them all by himself. Of course, fighting in daylight wasn’t bad either).
This group was unusual in the timing of its attack. At some point it occurred to him, as he whirled with his tonfas and began inflicting bruises and fractured cheekbones, that his opponents also seemed unusual in another sense. They were older, somewhat better-dressed than your typical high school gang. And they fought surprisingly well.
Not that it really mattered. They were in Namimori, they were gathered in a herd as if they were grass-eating creatures, and he felt like biting them to death.
About two minutes had passed, and he’d taken out about a dozen men, when he saw one of them snake past him and out the school gate. This man moved faster than the others, and had managed to stay at the periphery of the brawl so that Hibari’s attacks had missed him. He ran out onto the road now, gaze intent on something, and it was then that Hibari noticed Tsuna and his classmates, who just coming up the sidewalk.
The man lifted a gun and aimed it at Tsuna--
-- Gokudera double-bombed him, just as Hibari finished off the remaining delinquents with one outward sweep of his left tonfa, and that was the end of it.
“You beat me to it,” said Yamamoto pleasantly, lowering his baseball bat, but he looked irked at having his fun taken away from him.
Gokudera smirked, looking immeasurably pleased at having protected the Tenth. Tsuna was wearing a pained what-not-again expression.
The school bell rang. Hibari was about to say, “Go to class or I’ll bite you to death,” but they’d already run off, Tsuna and Yamamoto waving at him as they disappeared indoors.
In the end he had to go look up the man Mukuro had mentioned, simply because it was the same man who was disturbing the peace of Namimori, as confirmed by a cursory search of the wallets on the fallen intruders. Hibari added the money he'd pocketed from them to the Disciplinary Committee budget and then did some computer hacking. The mobster in question specialised in drug smuggling; more a petty crime lord than a true mafioso. That information didn't interest Hibari much. He searched for the location of the mobster's headquarters; it was in Tokyo, but it was a fair distance from Namimori. It would take up his entire evening, getting there and back. The man had better be as strong as Mukuro had promised, or else Hibari was going to be pissed off.
He set off, briefly considering sending a message to Tetsuya via Hibird, but rejecting the idea within moments. If he started doing this kind of thing people would start expecting it of him. And Tetsuya already knew to keep Namimori secure when Hibari wasn't around.
It took him an hour on foot to get there. The mobster's headquarters was a western-style mansion with a large compound and a security booth on the other side of the spiked metalwork gate. Hibari leaped over the fence easily and landed on the inside. The security guard gaped at him through the window of the booth, and said, “Just who are you--”
“I'm here to bite you to death,” Hibari said, and knocked him unconscious just as a screeching alarm went off and men began pouring out of the doors of the mansion. There were hundreds and hundreds of them. This number of men would have looked ridiculous even next to Dino's entourage. It wasn't so much a herd as it was a swarm of houseflies.
Well, he'd swat them all.
For many minutes – he always lost track of time during fights - there was nothing but movement and the impact of wood on flesh. His blood was singing.
Eventually he made it to the doors of the mansion, a wake of bodies behind him. Inside, there were more and more defenders. Several bullets grazed him but missed; he took the gunmen down without stopping to think. Somebody rushed at him with a hunting knife; he broke that person's nose and smashed someone else's ribs in one swift movement. He proceeded like this through the entrance hall and then a corridor; up one winding staircase and through what appeared to be a library. Some of the defenders might have been decoys to lead him away from the boss but it didn't really bother him either way. He'd take them all down regardless.
Finally there was an eerie silence in the building; there was no one left except the bodies of the unconscious, slumped against walls, draped across banisters, lying crookedly in puddles of their own blood. Some of the men had run away.
Hibari stepped across the the battlefield of the fallen. He walked past beautiful furnishings and unbeautiful, wounded bodyguards. One of them raised a pistol and tried to shoot him in the leg; Hibari kicked it out of his hand.
He'd just crossed a carpeted landing and was about to keep searching when his senses pricked up; there was a bristly unpleasantness all through his body.
He knew that feeling. It was illusion.
Hibari strode over to the nearest door and opened it.
An European man in an expensive suit walked out, holding a slender trident. One eye was red and the other blue. He smiled condescendingly when he saw Hibari.
“How lovely to meet you, Hibari-san,” he said. “I must congratulate you on getting this far.”
Mukuro had gotten here first. Hibari suppressed the sudden, overwhelming flare of frustration, at being deprived of the fight he'd been looking forward to.
Then Mukuro tilted his head to one side, a subtle but unmistakable challenge in those mismatched eyes, and the initial sense of thwartedness gave way to a greater, fiercer desire for another battle, one Hibari had been waiting even longer for.
He raised his tonfa. “I told you this morning,” he said, “If I saw this man, I'd bite him to death.”
Mukuro smiled and poised his trident – that was an illusion too, Hibari could feel it. Hibari shifted into position, readying his limbs to strike--
A sudden blurring of motion, and then Yamamoto was standing between the two of them. Smiling cheerfully, with his bamboo sword held ready to defend. Hibari blinked, and turned.
Tsuna was making his way up the stairs, Gokudera and the baby with him. The happy-go-lucky boxing club member followed behind them. Even the bushy-haired cow-skinned child was there. It was the entire herd. Hibari felt an unhappy, claustrophobic feeling rising up within him.
“You're all right!” Tsuna said, coming closer – though not too close. He'd perfected it by now, the art of giving Hibari just enough personal space. “Kusakabe said you were missing, I was really worried – and Mukuro!” He turned, barely seeming to notice that Mukuro was in a body that was neither his own or Chrome's. “I didn't expect to see you here.”
The remainder of Tsuna's coterie crowded around, making varied and largely senseless noises. “If you hadn't gotten lost, octopus head, we could have helped as well!” - “Shut up, you lawn head, it's not like you can read a map.” - “Lambo wants to PLAY TOOOOO!” --
There was nothing for it but to lower his weapons. Mukuro's trident disappeared, and Yamamoto, sensing the dissipating threat, sheathed Shigure Kintoki.
Within about five minutes the sheer amount of socialness overwhelmed Hibari so much that he bit them all to death (Reborn excepted; and Mukuro had already vanished together with his latest addition to his body collection) and walked home by himself.
And that was the way it went every time, really. Whenever he thought he'd finally bite that illusion-user to death, chance or coincidence or Tsuna happened along to interrupt. It didn't help that Mukuro seemed to be enjoying the delays and possibly was the cause of some of them.
He'd keep waiting. Self-control was tiresome – but as Reborn or Dino would say, it just might be more fun that way. As long as he kept watching that strange, evolving herbivore that was Tsuna, Mukuro would be there, too, and their paths would cross again.
Hibari would even the score. Better – he would settle it.