fromastudio ([personal profile] fromastudio) wrote in [community profile] almondinflower2008-11-11 06:41 pm

Idealism of Children [Dino, Hibari]

Idealism of Children
Characters: Dino, Hibari
Wordcount: 500
Notes: [livejournal.com profile] shiorikazen, here's what I made of your prompt! *grins* Alas, I am afraid it makes a serious attempt to be flowery (note the word 'attempt') and all the things you hate, so erm. Sorry. T_T




When Dino was in the mood to nurse old headaches and acquire new ones (not an infrequent happening in a thoughtful young man with the perfect disposition of a Mafia Boss), he often found his thoughts wandering to Kyouya, and wondering how someone so damn predictable could be so difficult to handle. So far the pattern of their interactions had not deviated yet: Dino showed up at Namimori, sometimes at Reborn's behest but increasingly for his own reasons, sought out the solitary boy's hideouts which by now were all known to him, few and unchanging as they were, and – despite consistent failure – attempted the “Talk first, fight later,” approach. The time in which he had to try this ranged from none at all when Kyouya was awake, to slightly less than one second if Kyouya was asleep, which was how long it took the boy to unfurl from his nap, covering a yawn with one hand, and switch to a predatory air, steel tonfas materialising from nowhere and snapping through the air in one long smooth attack.

“We really should stop doing this. Like this, I mean,” said Dino, when he'd gained a fleeting reprieve by tangling Kyouya's ankle in whip and literally sweeping him off his feet. There are better ways to communicate than violence, he thought, but didn't say it out loud since for Kyouya there really weren't. Dino's body by now was an assortment of barely identifiable pains all merging into each other and as Kyouya struggled upright and glared at him, he could see flecks of blood on Kyouya's skin and uniform and the scarlet band safety-pinned to his left sleeve, red streaks on red.

“Fight seriously or I'll--”

Bite you to death, Dino supplied mentally, but Kyouya did not finish the sentence; for a moment there was a flicker, a wavering that Dino saw sometimes, as if the boy's frustration had hit some certain, absolute limit. It was, Dino estimated, the closest thing to despair that Kyouya was capable of manifesting. But then it was gone again, drowned in bloodlust and pride and a curious childish innocence, the kind that Dino had lost when he grew up and realised that he had to kill and hurt and break the law in order to do the right thing, to protect what he loved best.

It was an innocence Dino would have liked him to keep, even knowing that something like Kyouya was destined to die fast, die young, die beautiful, in order to be preserved as it was and not be brought to shame; and when it came down to it Dino's priorities were clear. Beauty was rare, idealism precious -- yet living was more important, Family was more important, and compromise was something you could survive, even if you would never be unscarred again.

“Make me,” he said, and Kyouya sprang forward, eyes intent with the only things he understood – while Dino only saw all the things he did not understand yet, that Dino was adamant he learn – and it started again, impact and the lash of whip and creation of new bruises, until Kyouya's body could no longer keep up with his will and Dino could allow himself to sink to the floor, dizzy and hurting and exhilarated, and no longer sure whether he was doing this for the boy's sake, or for his own.


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