Caging the Beast
Part 1
By Nan00k

Basically, right after their first encounter with the infamous Disciplinary Chairman in his own reception room, Yamamoto notices Hibari's growing strange behavior, which is specifically aimed at him. Meanwhile, Hibari endures his very own teenage-middle-aged crisis.

In other words, I fell in love with a ten year old fandom and I really just wanted more 8018, even if I had to write it myself. :) This will be multi-chaptered, though each chapter will be its own little "episode," updated whenever I feel like it. Enjoy.

This first segment is split up into three parts: the first today deals with Hibari acting like a terrifying teenager who just discovered hormones and handling it in a manner that would only work for a predator like him. POVs switch between Hibari and Yamamoto throughout.

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Disclaimer: Katekyo Hitman Reborn © Akira Amano. I only write this mess.
Warnings: minor foul language, descriptions of violence, underage romance, slash, a clear abuse of the logic of the animal kingdom, alternative universe, and minor OOC behavior (though I've done what I can to avoid it)


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Day 1

Something strange, unprecedented and disturbing had happened.

Hibari Kyoya despised it.

He had no idea where it had started—no, he did. He could identify an exact moment in time and place when he first noticed it. Like a first symptom of a disease, it had been a precursor to a gradual increase of the disturbing change within himself.

It had all started when those three herbivores had foolishly invaded his territory. It had been almost amusing at first to see the weak creatures that inhabited his school dare to cross over into the reception room.

He had recognized each of them and knew their names, which was only fitting due to his role as Disciplinary Chairman. Gokudera Hayato; foreign exchange student who had already accumulated far too much damages to the school in his short time at Namimori Middle. Sawada Tsunayoshi; the very definition of an herbivore and an academic and social disgrace. Yamamoto Takeshi; star of the baseball team with low academic standards.

Hibari hadn't cared why they had chosen to deliberately invade his territory. The reason was irrelevant. He only cared to show them that such behavior would not be tolerated. He would bite them to death all too easily.

Gokudera Hayato lost his head in battle; it was his ultimate downfall. Hibari took mild pleasure in using his tonfas to beat the boy down, as if breaking that annoying, pathetic fire inside of the herbivore. Hibari could not stand the fake teeth so many of his would-be opponents had shown over the course of his life. It was pathetic. It was an insult. He took especially great pleasure in biting them to death.

When the silver haired boy fell, Hibari had turned around to face the remaining student standing (the one on the couch hadn't even woken). Yamamoto Takeshi had taken offence at his friend's beating. Hibari merely smirked and went at him with his tonfas out. Yamamoto Takeshi, who had always appeared happy to the point of stupidity, had tensed up and readied for the assault.

The moment their eyes met, Hibari almost stopped moving.

Instead of fake teeth, like Gokudera Hayato possessed, Yamamoto Takeshi had the mirrored opposite. An herbivore eyes. An herbivore's smile. An herbivore's body language.

But they were fake.

Hibari knew his own eyes had widened as he took it all in, in that split second of hesitation.

He had seen fake carnivores. He had seen men do their best to show they had fierceness, but in reality, they were pathetic weaklings who wanted the pretense of strength to assume power that wasn't theirs.

He had never seen a man—a carnivore, with sharp teeth and a desire for blood—fake wide-eyed weakness.

Yamamoto Takeshi was a carnivore dressed up in sheep's clothing.

The thrill that flooded Hibari at that moment, just as he brought up his tonfa to strike the other man down, made him shudder. He wanted it. He wanted to fight it, that beast, that carnivore hidden away under those stupid smiles and bright eyes. He lashed out with more power than he had intended; his focus had slipped.

Yamamoto Takeshi had dodged it, even if it had been faster than Hibari had meant it to be. That only made him strike out with more intensity; Yamamoto Takeshi still dodged. He wasn't attacking back. A snarl built up in Hibari's chest.

Why? Why the ruse? Why not give into the beast underneath that weak disguise? Hibari kicked out and grazed Yamamoto's right side. That wouldn't have made him stumble that easily, but Hibari noted that the baseball player was favoring his right arm, keeping it too far out of reach. There was no indication of injury there.

Too many questions plagued him. Hibari wanted it to end. He moved faster and hit harder, eventually pushing Yamamoto further and further back. Why wasn't he properly defending himself? !

Hibari went for the deciding blow, his frustration both confusing and overwhelming. Just as he brought the tonfa down on Yamamoto's head, the baseball player looked at him.

The ruse dropped, just in that moment. Hibari's heart skipped a beat as he stared into the depths of those eyes. There was no weak herbivore lens over them. They were the eyes of a true carnivore, pushed out into the open by the threat that was finally being acknowledged.

It came too late. Hibari slammed the tonfa down and Yamamoto dropped. Staring down at the other student, Hibari was struck by the loss of those eyes. He wanted to see them for longer than just a second. It had seemed like a total waste.

The confusion was overwhelming. He crouched over the body and stared into slackened face. It gave no clues as to what lay underneath. Hibari, for the first time since he could remember, felt true frustration.

He had no time to demand an explanation. The third unwelcomed herbivore finally got up from the couch and was astonished to see his friends lying on the ground. Hibari rose with his tonfas ready, his irritation now burning brighter now.

The Baby had been a decent distraction, but not enough. The sudden transformation of the third herbivore had been shocking, but no matter how strange, it was still an herbivore that suddenly could fight. Hibari felt a strange sense of pleasure from the fact that so many new potential rivals in a fight had literally landed in his lap. It had seemed to perfect. The smirk on the Baby's face seemed to hint that maybe it had been a trap.

Either way, Hibari let the Herbivore escape with all of his companions. His room was his again and he'd merely hunt them down later to give the strange (half-naked?) herbivore a true punishment.

The disturbing part came when, as Hibari attempted to enjoy his newly reclaimed quiet space, he could not enjoy it. His mind kept wandering back to the fights, which rarely happened, since he often found no real reason to remember squabbles with weak herbivores around the school.

But he kept thinking about it.

He kept thinking about one single, lurking problem, a problem that soon started to choke out every other focus. That problem's name just happened to be Yamamoto Takeshi.

0000

Day 2

Yamamoto Takeshi was beginning to drive Hibari Kyoya insane.

The following morning, Hibari had gone through his general routine. As Disciplinary Committee Chairman, he had obligations to make sure those who had incurred detentions or other demerits. There hadn't been many, so there wasn't any real reason to not seek out Sawada Tsunayoshi to give him the proper punishment he had failed to receive for his violation of the rules yesterday.

Hibari lacked the motivation to do that, however. He really just wanted to fight that Baby.

And…Yamamoto Takeshi.

He had thought about it longer than he should have; obviously, it was just one student and the potentiality of another fight. There would always be another fight. At the same time, this was decidedly different. There was a mystery concerning his opponent.

How could any sensible carnivore hide himself among sheep? That question just kept coming back to him, like an unwanted melody. Yamamoto was a well-liked student according to his peers, and despite frequent academic failures, he was rarely on the bad side of the Disciplinary Committee. Hibari had never sought the taller male out before, but every memory he had of seeing the boy at a distance included Yamamoto just laughing and smiling. His demeanor was horribly pleasant. There was no desire for fight in him.

But it existed. Just underneath that disguise, those smiles. Hibari had seen it and he had not mistaken it. The glimpse of a beast.

The confusion over why it was hidden at all plagued him; confusion over having confusion made it even worse. Hibari's mood went decidedly south before second period had even begun. He had gone up to the roof to try to take a nap, but he couldn't sleep. He had had a horrible night's rest also, mostly because he kept trying to figure out the rationale behind Yamamoto's decision to live like prey.

Was it to train himself to have better control? Was it because he somehow feared his strength? A true carnivore would never have such pathetic methods of dealing with self-control nor would they ever fear their strength. That's what made them predators to begin with.

Hibari also could not fathom why he himself was having such a reaction to this. Yes, it was confusing, but it was ultimately unimportant. Hibari did not get wrapped up in the affairs of others. Yes, it was an intriguing mystery, but he didn't care.

He didn't.

Which was why he was in an increasingly strained state of mind when he, almost without thinking it through, told Kusakabe to fetch Yamamoto from class. Hibari did his best to ignore everything, including his growing doubt of his sanity. Maybe he had incurred a head injury and hadn't noticed. That herbivore Sawada could have gotten in a lucky hit…

Hibari flinched when he heard the door to the roof open. He was too distracted. This had to stop.

Turning around, he was not surprised to see Yamamoto sticking his head out around the edge of the door. He seemed happy to have found Hibari so quickly.

Yamamoto dared to smile. "Hibari? One of your friends on the Disciplinary Committee said that you wanted to speak to me?" he asked, stepping out onto the roof properly.

"Yamamoto Takeshi," he said. He watched the taller student approach and wasn't sure if he was irritated by Yamamoto's disrespect by boldly walking up to him or…something else.

"Sorry, again! I mean, for the other day. I know Tsuna apologized earlier, but we really didn't know we had invaded your spot, you know?" Yamamoto said, laughing. His laugh was almost omnipresent and it was unnecessary. "No hard feelings…right?"

Why? Why the smiles? He had to have suspected Hibari had called him up to be bitten to death. He still came. It was a show of strength, yes, but there was no outward wariness. Was Yamamoto just…that good at hiding things behind a mask? What was the point of a mask?

Hibari only noticed then that a strange burning had appeared in his chest as he was swamped by those questions. The confusion was toxic.

There was still a way to answer his questions. There were still options left to make Yamamoto drop his ridiculous disguise.

"Hibari?" Yamamoto asked, smiling like a fool.

They were still the eyes of an herbivore. There wasn't a single sign of what Hibari had seen yesterday afternoon. It was frustrating. It shouldn't have been that powerful, but at that moment, Hibari was affected by the frustration of not being able to see those carnivore eyes again.

"Yamamoto Takeshi," Hibari said, deciding on it right then and there. "Fight me."

He needed to see it again.

He had no idea why, but he did.

The smile slowly faded from the idiot's face. "Huh?" Yamamoto asked, surprised. "Fight you?"

Hibari grabbed his tonfas under his jacket, but didn't raise them yet. "You fought in the reception room. Do it again," he ordered.

"What?" Yamamoto asked, now a bit more alarmed, but only under the guise of a confused herbivore. He laughed and tried to raise his hands. "Hibari, uh, I think I'll pass—whoa!"

Hibari lost his patience. In hindsight, it was a pathetic gesture and it served only to prove that Hibari needed to rigorously examine why his self discipline had failed recently. He hadn't needed to train himself in that regard since he was a child; it was unacceptable.

But on the roof, at that moment, he lost it. Even then, there was a faint sense in the back of his mind that it was a complete lapse of character. He could not help but lash out.

He did not give Yamamoto another chance. Grabbing his tonfas, he lunged at the baseball player. Yamamoto yelped and did his best to get out of the way.

All that Hibari could think then, as they danced around the roof, was that he just needed to drag the carnivore out again. If a fight was what it took to make Yamamoto stop looking at him with those herbivore eyes and remove the disguise that hid his fangs, so be it. Hibari had been looking forward to another match, if only to see those eyes.

Yamamoto was quick. Quicker than Gokudera Hayato had been. He still wasn't quicker than Hibari and was forced to keep increasing the distance between them. Hibari did not allow him the chance to get too far away. Yamamoto continued to dodge the direct hits, but was quickly accumulating what would turn out to be an outstanding collection of bruises on his sides, arms and legs.

He wasn't fighting back. He wasn't even dodging sufficiently anymore. He was merely trying to keep his right side untouched. Why was it so important? Why was he acting like every other prey that had ended up in Hibari's line of sight? It was wrong.

"Hibari, wait," Yamamoto said, trying to keep his hands up in a pathetic attempt of defense. He was getting winded. "Wait a second, I don't want to fight you."

"Shut up," Hibari snapped, lunging again.

It was still there, that fanged monster underneath. Hibari saw just flashes of it, whenever he got too close or whenever he landed an indirect hit. The pain drew it out. The threat was clearly being registered by Yamamoto's inner beast. The clearest sign that there was something more to the baseball player was the fact that he hadn't tried to run. Only herbivores ran.

Hibari could not identify nor control the boiling emotion in his chest. It was disgusting, how affected he was by this.

But he just had to drag it out, then. He could do that. His curiosity would be appeased and he'd get what he had wanted from the start.

Why he wanted it was another question, one that Hibari decided to ignore. He was far too intent on cornering Yamamoto, which he was slowly succeeding at doing. Yamamoto backed into the fence on the roof edge and flung himself away when Hibari slammed his tonfa into it. The whole metal structure shook violently.

The thrill of the hunt was fading. Hibari was sick of waiting. His impatience made his attacks fiercer; he didn't lose control of the strikes. If anything, they became more precise and backed by far more power than he should have put into it. Yamamoto, on the other hand, had started to slow from fatigue.

He was also slowed by his pathetic attempts to shield his right side. Hibari snarled and grabbed Yamamoto's left ankle with his own and yanked him over. Yamamoto stumbled to the side and Hibari brought a tonfa down onto his right shoulder.

Yamamoto yelled out, the first time he had raised his voice during the fight, and he ducked out of the way over another direct hit. Hibari felt a strange sense of disappointment at the panic in Yamamoto's expression. Where was the anger? Where was the carnivore? Yamamoto scrambled backwards and actually tripped onto his back. He had lost control of the fight entirely now, not that he had had any control to start with.

Hibari had also lost control. He jumped at the other teen and meant to slam the tonfa's edge directly into Yamamoto's face, but the baseball player suddenly rolled to the side. He didn't get far, especially when Hibari merely shot his other hand out and slammed it into his jaw, sending him flying the other way.

"H'bari—," Yamamoto tried to say, slurring after that last strike.

For whatever reason, that made that raw, boiling emotion in Hibari burn even more.

He raised his tonfa and slammed it down on Yamamoto's shoulder as he attempted to move out of the way. Mercilessly, Hibari finished it by slamming the other against the taller male's unprotected head. Yamamoto went down and didn't get up.

Hibari stood there, breathing heavily, and he was lost in a sense of—loss of control? That made no sense. He did not lose control, ever.

And yet, he couldn't calm himself.

What was happening to him? This was wrong. Hibari slowly dropped his tonfas to his side. This was completely, utterly wrong.

Yamamoto lay on the ground, sprawled and defenseless. Hibari should have left then. He had hit harder than he meant to, but Yamamoto was still breathing. He didn't strike unconscious prey.

Hibari's hands quivered.

Why?

It wasn't the first time in those two days that Hibari saw that his life was slowly spiraling out of control.

It was merely the first he acknowledged it.

0000

The first thing he saw was a white ceiling. Yamamoto blinked twice, slowly, and tried to figure out why his face hurt so much. He didn't remember going off to practice yet and it wasn't like the dugout or locker room had a ceiling like that. He felt like he was lying on a couch, too. The room was oddly quiet. His shoulder was hurting, but then again, most of his body was throbbing—

"Conscious yet?"

The unexpected question made Yamamoto jump. He sat up and turned to face the person. When he recognized their face, he actually yelped. Abruptly, he remembered why he was flat on his back anywhere.

Hibari was standing just a meter away by the other couch. He was glaring at Yamamoto with his usual cold eyes.

"Yikes!" Yamamoto sat upright, ignoring how his back protested in pain at the sudden movement, and stared at the older student warily. "Hibari?"

He didn't want to feel nervous about the older boy, but after what he could recall happened, Yamamoto figured he ought to be a bit wary about what to expect just yet. Their fight on the roof, or rather Hibari's lonesome attack, had been brutal. Hibari didn't move from his spot; he only continued to glare at Yamamoto expectantly.

Yamamoto swallowed hard and decided to take the tense silence that fell between them as a good sign. It was clearly later in the day, judging by the sunlight coming in the reception room windows. His whole body hurt, but it looked like whatever battlelust had overtaken Hibari on the roof had faded. Hopefully.

It was getting a little awkward. Hibari seemed content to just glare forever. Yamamoto strained a smile, ignoring the pain in his right cheek. He glanced down at his left arm and saw his wrist was wrapped up. He remembered getting a rather awful whack to it earlier. It didn't feel sprained at the very least.

"…did you patch me up?" he asked. He cleared his throat and tried to be casual about it. "Um, thanks."

Normally, he'd expect a curt acknowledgement from the Prefect and that was all. It wasn't unheard of for Hibari to show some sort of mercy toward injured students by dragging them to the nurse's office, particularly ones who were really beat up—or bitten—by him. Yamamoto knew it was rare, however, and Hibari never bothered to personally wait with the injured student.

This time, however, Hibari did not leave. If he were crazy, Yamamoto would have thought it was an act of guilt that made Hibari bother to bring Yamamoto to his reception room. That was a silly thought to have about the Disciplinary Committee Chairman, however.

Hibari loomed. "Why didn't you fight back?"

"…I did," Yamamoto said, beginning to feel a little dizzy from all of the confusion he was experiencing.

"No," Hibari snapped. "You hid whatever spark you have in you, Yamamoto Takeshi, that separates you from the rest of these sheep."

…huh?

Yamamoto tried desperately to catch up. "I mean, I didn't give it my all, but Hibari, I don't want to fight you."

"Why not?" Hibari demanded harshly, leaning in closer.

"Because there's no reason to," he said.

Immediately, he knew he had said the wrong thing. Hibari's expression folded back into something akin to surprise. His dark-rimmed eyes widened faintly and Yamamoto could clearly see how pretty his steel-blue eyes were. The Prefect's mouth opened, but he didn't say anything.

He just stared at Yamamoto, as if Yamamoto were the strangest creature he had ever seen.

Yamamoto waited it out and felt a strange apprehension rise up in the back of his mind. Maybe… he should have prepared for another attack.

Thankfully, it didn't come. Hibari's confused surprise melted into an angry expression, but he just stood there, staring at Yamamoto. He didn't move for a long time.

Then, without a word, he straightened. The Prefect went over to the desk and grabbed an unused roll of white bandages. He stalked past Yamamoto and threw the bandages at the baseball player's face. Yamamoto managed to raise his hands in time to catch the item. Before he could thank him or ask him where he was going, Hibari had stormed out the reception room door and slammed it shut behind him.

Yamamoto, despite recent evidence to the contrary, was not suicidal. So, he naturally did not assume Hibari was being overly emotional. Because Hibari had clearly made a reputation for not being emotional over anything.

Sitting there on the couch, Yamamoto stared at the (forcefully) offered bandages and contemplated what they meant.

They were probably the closest to an apology as Yamamoto was going to get.

Against his better judgment, he smiled anyway.

0000

By the time he had finished his rounds and went back to his office, Yamamoto had left. That was a good thing, considering Hibari's confusion over everything that had happened that day was beginning to send him into a dark, dark mood. He sat down on the black leather couch and glared at the wall. It was beginning to become problematic, how fixated his mind was on this issue. Everything just kept swirling around in his mind, refusing to fade in importance.

No reason to fight? There was an obvious reason: Hibari had launched an assault against him. Someone was attacking him and yet the would-be carnivore couldn't find a reason to defend himself? It made no sense. Yamamoto Takeshi was lying.

And yet, he hadn't been. Hibari knew liars. He knew how to spot the signs.

Yamamoto hadn't been lying in the reception room. He had been honest. He honestly believed that there had been no reason to fight back.

It made no sense.

Hibari did not lose control. He had not intended to go as far as he had, but striking at Yamamoto until he lost consciousness had been unexpectedly satisfying. It had left him with too many questions, of course, but as he recalled his exact moves on the roof, Hibari noted firmly that there had been no room for Yamamoto to mistake the danger. Hibari was dangerous; the shadow of a look in Yamamoto's eyes clearly showed that he had understood how dangerous the Prefect was.

And yet he still hadn't fought back.

What sort of carnivore didn't defend itself in a truly dangerous situation? Yamamoto—if he truly was more than the rest of his weak peers—should have reacted instinctively to the threat against his life. Even if he had superior self-control up until the moment Hibari landed the fatal strike, what sort of fighter allowed themselves be that weak in a decisive moment?

…Unless that was how his strange, unnatural carnivore logic worked. That somehow, when it wasn't an intentional altercation, when Yamamoto had personal reasons to fight back…

He didn't.

Hibari stared at the wall above the couch and tried to fathom it.

What had been different? What differences existed between the fight on the roof and the fight in the reception room?

People.

Hibari's eyes trailed over to where he had felled Gokudera Hayato and then where he had fought Sawada Tsunayoshi. The only true difference between the roof and the room altercations had been the inclusion of other participants in the fight. Was that it?

He almost didn't hear the door open. When he turned to glare at the offending visitor, he relaxed when he saw his second-in-command, Kusakabe Tetsuya, standing at attention. He had brought with him daily disciplinary notes from all the school's instructors. Students who had accumulated demerits would be located and reprimanded the following morning promptly.

Kusakabe had gone over to leave the small stack of paper on Hibari's desk, but seemed to notice something with Hibari. The Prefect bristled under the inquisitive look, but reluctantly acknowledged that if anyone had the right to inquire into Hibari's mood, it was undoubtedly his second-in-command.

"Sir?" Kusakabe asked, a little surprised.

Hibari could count on a somewhat sound-judgment on things from Kusakabe, especially concerning the behavior of other people that he didn't understand. It was still a spontaneous gesture when he responded.

"Why would someone fight in the company of others and fail to fight well at all while alone?" he asked.

"Sir?" Kusakabe asked again, now confused. He quickly decrypted the question, however. "Um, well…some people fight better in groups."

"Not better. More viciously," Hibari said, irritable. "Herbivores fight in groups. Carnivores don't."

Kusakabe had known Hibari long enough to understand what he meant most times.

"…I see," the taller Prefect said, looking thoughtful as he tried to analyze what his leader was troubled by. "Well, if a carnivore is fighting harder in a team but not as aggressively outside of a team…perhaps they merely have different strategies?"

Hibari sneered at that idea. "Hm."

What sort of strategy was that? Just waiting until someone else was standing by? It hadn't mattered in the end, since Yamamoto had lost regardless, but there were other factors to consider. He still shied away from damaging his right arm. Reports Hibari had gathered explained that the baseball player had injured that arm earlier in the year; his fear of injuring it in battle was a weakness that had to be weeded out. Regardless, Yamamoto clearly had shown that a beast lurked beneath his stupid herbivore smiles.

How was it that his fangs only came out when there were other people? That seemed so illogical. Carnivores didn't crowd with others, especially not herbivore crowds.

Did Yamamoto purposely choose that? Hibari glared at the wall, trying to wrap his mind around the likelihood of that strategy. If he wanted to hide…if he wanted to be an herbivore…that explained why he lived like one.

But it didn't explain why he hid behind that mask, even in battle. Or why he failed to step out of that cloak when alone with another carnivore.

"Or, perhaps, their motivation is different," Kusakabe said suddenly, causing Hibari to look up at him.

"Motivation?" Hibari repeated, eyes narrowed.

Kusakabe nodded, hesitant. "Some people, when relying on a team, are more likely to feel a need to protect their teammates."

"Protect," Hibari echoed. His lip raised his disgust.

"If, in the case you're referring to, sir, the person is a naturally strong fighter, it may be that he does not hold himself back as much in cases where he feels he needs to be stronger for others," Kusakabe continued. He sounded a little unsure of himself, but Hibari could trust that his underling did think out what he said with care, generally. "It's not the optimum situation, but I feel as though it is common."

That did nothing to make order of Hibari's chaos-filled thoughts. It only made him more frustrated. How? It was illogical and unnatural to think that a carnivore would lower himself to that level. Yamamoto was a carnivore—Hibari had so rarely felt that thrill of challenge when he had looked into his eyes that it was an unmistakable feeling.

The mystery of why Yamamoto hid behind an herbivore's mask and then chose to actively ally himself with anyone was dwarfed by the stranger mystery of why that would impact his ability to fight while alone.

…unless he didn't like to fight.

Hibari grit his teeth at the pure insanity of such a theory. How could a carnivore didn't like to fight—? !

"This is about Yamamoto Takeshi, isn't it, sir?" Kusakabe asked, again hesitant.

Hibari crossed his arms against his chest, scowling. "I do not understand how a carnivore can behave that way."

"He is a natural team-player, sir," Kusakabe said. "Perhaps it was his baseball training that caused this team-focus in his fighting."

"Tch."

Carnivores were not natural team-players. Carnivores consumed the weak, fought as they pleased and never lost fights only because there weren't witnesses around for it.

Yamamoto was a carnivore who broke those rules, however. There was a raw danger that was present in him, but it only came out when he had, what? Things to fight for? Hibari sneered at the very thought of it.

But it wasn't that easy. He couldn't let it go. His mind kept going back to that single, bizarre thought: that Yamamoto somehow was more of a carnivore while working with others, like in some bizarre pack, only his fellow packmates were nothing but herbivores. It defied the natural law that ruled Hibari's reality.

It made no sense. It was starting to drive him crazy. It was intoxicating to the point Hibari could think of nothing else all day.

It had to stop. As with all problems in his life, Hibari sought a way to remove that confusion and move on from this disappointment.

The only problem was…he couldn't think of how.

"If I may, sir," Kusakabe began. Hibari merely looked over at him. "Perhaps the best course of action is to confront him about it directly."

"I did."

"Without a fight."

Without a fight?

Hibari stared at the wall again and wondered just how more insane he would allow this troublesome thing to become.

He wanted answers. He had a feeling that he'd only get them in a confrontation directly with the source of his frustrations. If that failed, well…

Hibari would just bite him to death.

.


End Part 1.

In part 2, Yamamoto jumps to conclusions and then Reborn gives Hibari the best worst idea ever, of all time.


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A/Ns:
-Hibari Kyoya, Namimori's resident man-child terrorist.
-In all seriousness, while it obviously never comes up in canon, I was amused by the idea of Hibari going through puberty. He's clearly not using the same everyday logic the average teen would use when dealing with emotions and sexual urges, so I figured it could be manipulated into this sort of behavior the moment he encountered someone worthy of his strange criteria. I'm pretty sure the only one who also could do this to him would be Dino, but I've always seen their student-teacher relationship as the cockblock there. I sincerely doubt he ever got the "talk" from any older peers or family, nor would he have ever thought to reference it for himself, since he's so in control of his body. This is my only excuse for such OOC dedication to solving his problems haha.
-This first segment was only split up because the other parts combined with part 1 is already over 27 pages in MS Word and it's not even 50% done yet. Urgh.