Okay, so here is the rewritten version of chapter one! I am so sorry for the long wait!
…
He shifted his weight, twirling absentmindedly his indigo strands between his fingers as he hummed softly in absent thought. "Wonder when he'll…" A movement in his peripheral vision caught his attention, causing him to trail his words; turning his gaze, he discovered a lone feather of the strangest of forms—diamond-like and black as the obscure depths of a closed closet—upon the floor. His lips curled upwards. He's here.
"Rokudou Mukuro," a baritone called; "what's the meaning of this?"
"What's the meaning of what?" he countered, pretending innocence, and straightened his posture.
The silhouette clad with the shadows growled lowly as it stepped forth, the silver of the moon shining down to give sight of the many feathers littered orderly over wide wings. A flare of purple rose, highlighting the powerful yet deceivingly slender tones of the form's frame; but, just as quickly as the strange flame ignited, it dissipated. "Lady Thompson—the painting—where have you disposed it?"
The sky cracked and allowed its heavenly tears to drain down, allowing Mukuro to have a glimpse of the mesmerizing features of the form: porcelain skin, obsidian hair, and cerulean irises.
"Pray tell," he said mockingly, "why I should unveil such a thing"—he chuckled, the sound of it darkly murderous—"Kaitou Kyou?" His lips curled into a smirk. "Besides, you have come for something else, have you not?"
In response, Kaitou Kyou thrust himself forth, a mere blur too fast for even the trained eye to catch.
Mukuro cursed under his breath, any previous amusement etched on his features dwindling. His heterochromatic eyes swept across the room as his body tensed, his hand reaching into a pocket to draw out a gun.
A flutter of clothes at the left; Mukuro pointed the handgun in that direction. Then, at the right. He quickly switched his aim, the room befalling into a heavy silence. "You've gotten faster, Kyou-chan," he analyzed as he returned the gun to its previous location in his pocket, and, seemingly out of thin air, appeared a trident parched with silver from the sandy texture of an indigo flame. That, or I've grown slower.
"Don't call me that," warned 'Kyou-chan', his presence suddenly too close for comfort.
He whirled around, trident intending to cut.
The hit was countered with another weapon—a tonfa made of the strongest steel—a second tonfa swinging upwards towards the detective's face.
Somehow finding a smirk to show, he evaded the blow to his cheek by propelling himself backwards, the tips of his hair cutting off from the mere wind created by the tonfa's motion. They paused, staring in silent calculation at one another. "That's rather mean, Kyou-chan, trying to ruin my beautiful face."
Kyou vaulted towards Mukuro; the weapons clashed once again, the metals crying out a deafening screech. "It'd be making a favour for the world if I rid your face from it." He pressed his tonfa harder onto Mukuro's trident, and Mukuro's footing skidded back. His gaze hardened into a glower. "Where is the Lady Thompson?"
Mukuro leaned in, and the other's arm shook ever so slightly under the pressure. "That won't work a second time." His smirk slipped. "What is it you really want?"
…
"Yet again your cooking was delicious, Kyouya." Dino smiled, sorrel irises twinkling with mirth for being given another (extremely) rare chance at eating Kyouya's food and becoming a guest in the Hibari household. Speaking of household, "Where is everyone else?"
"The Committee is out patrolling in my stead." Hibari, noting the following silence was unusual, raised a delicate eyebrow when, as he turned to see the other's expression, he found Dino contemplating with his eyebrows drawn down in deep concentration. It almost looks like he is pouting. "What is it, Haneuma?"
"Come live with me," he blurted out, not quite rethinking his words before formulating them in his mouth. Ah, the expression contorting the skylark's handsome features was priceless. I missed my chance to take a picture of him, the back of his mind side-commented.
Eventually regaining his composure, Hibari's eyes narrowed into their usual glower. "Why?"
At last realizing what his mouth had done, he averted his gaze, the confidence behind his voice before now resembling mush. He sighed, returning to look at Hibari—what's done is done. "It's…"—he quickly revised his choice of next words—"lonely, isn't it, living in such a grand home without anyone else around?"
The chuckle was disguised with a sip of his tea; he set down his cup, eyelids drifting close to delve in the feel of warm liquid heating his insides. "Speaking from experience, Cavallone?"
"Ah"—Dino traced the rim of his cup absentmindedly—"sort of.
"Although my parents were almost never there, the estate had many servants; but none paid any mind to me, always giving the cold shoulder whenever I would attempt to gain their attention; so, I tended to sneak out and wonder around town. Romario was the only one who would come searching for me, reprimanding me for leaving without escorts. But I didn't mind; I rather enjoyed it instead." He laughed lowly at the memory and brought the cup to his lips to sip his drink. He placed the cup down, lips curling into a smile. "Wouldn't Kyouya enjoy having someone whom looks after him?"
"Your life story is not much of a persuasion." Hibari flicked his lids open, cerulean staring deeply into sorrel. "Besides, I already have someone whom looks after me, even if I don't desire nor need the care:"
You.
Something in Dino gripped, tainting with a dull coldness.
"Tetsuya?" he surmised. He shook his head, golden locks tickling his cheeks, simultaneously also attempting to rid the emotions lurking in the pits of his stomach. "I don't like seeing Kyouya alone for even the smallest of instances; it's unsettling. Just think about it, alright? I have an extra room for you at my apartment." Dino stood. "I'll drop you off at school."
A hand curled around Dino's wrist, impeding him from moving. "Cavallone, postpone tonight's dinner till tomorrow."
A swirl of emotions clouded his mind, constricting his breath and forcing his heart to thump lazily. This was the umpteenth time Hibari rescheduled their meetings; he found the Skylark broke his promises more often than the latter made them—whether it was unintentional or not, whenever he would inquire for the reasons, it was always the same, vague response: work. "What sort of work?" he had asked in return many times before, and, without fail, those cerulean irises would harden to a piercing glower, the type of glare that froze and burned his insides. Then:
"Don't delve too far into my life, Cavallone Dino, or—"
"Or I'll regret ever existing," Dino would finish off, "because I'll be severely bitten to death." A dazzlingly smile. "Am I right?"
Hibari's lips would twist into a smirk, the azure silver hue of his eyes dancing strangely. "Correct."
Instead of answering, Dino tugged at his arm, the strength behind it dragging Hibari along. Dino's features were a perfect stoic stone, yet his gaze unveiled all of the restrained emotions.
Startled, Hibari peered up. He furrowed his brows, knowing perfectly well what went through Dino, and pried himself out of the tight grip.
Face contorting in hurt, he reached out to grasp Hibari again, but the latter stepped out of his range.
"Cavallone." The tone was carefully accentuated with a hint of aggravation—a warning.
Dino retracted his arms, his hands balling into fists. "I'm really beginning to dislike this work of yours, Kyouya."
I don't like it either—I abhor it.
Choosing to ignore the Italian, Hibari pivoted on his heels, headed out of his home, and entered the black Ferrari parked before the gates, Dino following all the way. Dino ignited the engine, not bothering to secure himself with the seatbelt—having Hibari Kyouya in one's car had the police backing away—and began to drive, while Hibari made it a point to not make eye-contact by staring out the window at the passing scenery of buildings, people, vehicles, and the occasional animals.
The silence was starting to grate on Dino.
"For dinner the day after tomorrow, what would you like: French, Italian, Japanese, Cuban, Chinese, Spanish, Korean—" He could keep the list going forever.
Hibari took a gander at him from the corner of his eye, and, just like that, their little dispute was over; Dino internally sighed in relief—being on bad-terms with anyone, especially with the Skylark, had never settled well with him, always placing him on edge. "The third."
Dino smiled. "Japanese it is, then." He hummed in thought. "How 'bout TakeSushi?"
"TakeSushi?" echoed Hibari. "Yamamoto Takeshi's…?"
Nodding, he asserted, "Yeah, Yamamoto's restaurant. I heard they recently finished their renovations, and the restaurant's popularity has tripled since. Tsuyoshi-san is planning on opening a second—maybe a third—restaurant. Problem is, though, the only places available are not the best. Tsuyoshi-san is wondering if you can offer 'protection'."
Smirking, "I'm expensive."
He laughed, swiveling the steering wheel to the left after the traffic light blinked from red to green. "He's willing to pay all fees and give discounts for food."
Hibari grunted a hum.
The skyscrapers were becoming scarce the further they traveled down the road till a section of Namimori Forest became the only view, said section now with an increment of a castle that spoke its grace and was modeled after the exterior of the elegant and intricate Chambord and the interior of the complex and colourful Sammezzano, while its gardens were as beautiful as the ones of the Chenonceau. The structure was the International University of Namimori City (the IUNC, for short), currently grander than Tokyo University and rival for number-one among Harvard, Cambridge, and MIT; the luxury for not only the elite minds but the strong bodies; and built several years ago within the remarkable timespan of two years from the fortune of the Cavallone's tenth heir as a present for none other than the feared and awed protector of Namimori despite the initial refusal for something so extraordinary from the receiver.
Secretly, Hibari loved the IUNC as much as he loved ordinary Nami Middle; albeit, in truth, he had taken a greater liking for the college, the simply reason behind that being Dino built it for the Skylark—and Hibari only—to use as his personal territory.
Where Dino procured the money and the authorization to construct something so grand remained a mystery to Hibari…or why the Italian would even want to present a castle to the Skylark not two weeks into their first meeting. "I wanted to flatter Kyouya," Cavallone had once confessed.
Why?
"Because I couldn't help but desire Kyouya to be as mesmerized as he left me."
Apparently, the scale at which Dino deemed it appropriate for the inception of becoming anything near pleasing was…was…The only coherent word Hibari could properly formulate with the least amount of wavering was "wao"; in italic and bold.
Hibari couldn't help but wonder if every person Dino took a liking to had a castle designed especially for him or her.
"What classes do you have today?" asked Dino, effectively snapping Hibari out of his small trance. Dino internally chuckled at the sparkle in those cerulean irises; he tended to catch that glazed, twinkling look in the Skylark whenever the latter stared for a few seconds too long at anything that constituted the university.
"Topology and Computer Information and Security," replied Hibari as he stepped out of the car.
"I'll see you after Topology, then; meet me in the Southwest Wing?"
He closed the door and sauntered to the driver's side, gaze intensifying into a mild scowl.
Dino rolled down his window, expression expectant.
"Chocolate," Hibari eventually muttered.
"The usual DeLafée? Or something else, like NōKA, Knipschildt's Chocopologie, or Richart?...Perhaps Debauve & Gallais or Pierre Marcolini?" His lips were graced with a small smile—really, he spoiled the Skylark too much.
A hint of pink crawled its way to his cheeks as he peered away, suddenly finding the random leaf upon the ground interesting. "Something inexpensive, Cavallone. Hershey's is fine."
Dino puckered his lips slightly. "But only the finest delicacies should touch Kyouya's delicate tongue."
Unwillingly, Hibari's blush deepened. With a huff, he turned around and began to saunter towards the school's main entrance.
"I'll bring all of those chocolates if you don't make up your mind!" Hibari was already too far to hear, however. He chuckled, slumping against his chair, and fished into his pocket to procure his phone. He dialed some numbers and pressed the device to his ear.
"The number you have dialed is not avai—"
Ending the call, an eyebrow rose. "Tsuna is not answering his phone?" Several thoughts passed through his mind, ranging from the innocent 'maybe he's still asleep; he does to sleep in till outrageous hours' to the chilling 'maybe he got into an accident'. He mumbled something incoherent under his breath and shook his head shortly after. "I'll go check up on him, then."
…
A small smile managed to wiggle her way onto her deceivingly young features. "How nice of you to stop by, Dino-kun." Nana placed a distressed hand on her cheek, amber eyes glowing with concern. "It has been two days since I last saw Tsu-kun; he said he was going to that work of his, but he hasn't called me or contacted anyone else like he usually does."
Again with the mysterious jobs, Dino pondered.
She blinked. "Ah, how rude of me. Would you like something to eat? A little snack, perhaps?"
Just as Nana began to stand, Dino stopped her by placing a hand on her forearm, smiling. "I just had lunch with Kyouya, so I'm fine; thank you."
"Kyouya-kun?" Clapping her hands together, she smiled brightly. "Ah, that handsome boy I mistook for a girl!" Giggling at the memory, she added, "He is just so pretty…so beautiful." She sighed dreamily, her eyes twinkling.
Dino sighed in the same manner, his eyes glazing over as well. "You should see him when he sleeps, Maman—it's like watching an angel. Plunges one right into heaven." He made strange gestures with his hands, as if depicting how exactly the Head Prefect's slumber-stricken features shoved one through the golden doors of a paradisiacal heaven. "Ah"—he snapped out of his trance, also taking Nana out of hers, only to befall into another one right after—"it's so adorable when he—"
And so, Dino forgot his original purpose for ever setting a foot in the Sawada household that day.
…
Just as the Phantom Thief expected it to be, Rokudou Mukuro was there, his crimson eye lustering oddly under the afternoon light while his blue one seemed even more impassive than usual. "You're a minute and thirty-seven seconds late, Kyou-kun," he observed.
Kaitou Kyou clicked his tongue in annoyance. "What is it to you?"
Mukuro directed his dichromatic gaze to the floor, suddenly finding the light dust covering the peach-colored marble tiles interesting, and shrugged as he placed his gloved hands in his black dress-pants' pockets casually—a little too casually. "Nothing at all; nothing at all," he muttered under his breath in a melodic tone and shifted his footing so he faced entirely the other in the grand room. He smirked. "Tell me: what are you going to try to steal from this regular, rich-ass household?"
A smirk of his own curling his lips, Hibari answered, "That's for me to know and you to find out"—he shrugged and crossed his arms across his chest—"when you find it gone."
Mukuro widened his smirk and flipped his hand under his side-bangs while tilting his head along with the motion, imaginary sparkles sprinkling from his strangely colored hair; the movement seemed so sensual Hibari—he shivered at this thought—could have sworn if the detective was attempting to seduce him with his looks. To further add to Hibari's horror, the man winked, mouthing words Hibari was able to comprehend with ease.
Then, Mukuro produced a silver handgun from one of his pockets, and Hibari watched, unmoving. A flash of…something flitted through that heterochromatic gaze, raising curiosity within Hibari over what could have brought about emotions he kenned not of. "Stay still, little phantom; I don't want to hit something vital."
Bang.
The bullet tore his flesh, a sickening splash of crimson already beginning to dribble down and soak into his clothing. Hibari bit down on his tongue to keep at bay the cry of pain threatening to rip from his throat as he fell to one knee, clutching his injured arm.
Mukuro rushed forth and bent onto one knee before the Skylark. He pried the other's fingers away from the arm and slid Hibari's trench coat off; he dug into his pocket and took out a roll of bandages.
"You came prepared, I see." Hibari stared at Mukuro's slightly pinched expression as the latter began to tie the bandages around his arm. "Why?"
He gave a last tug to the bandages, and Hibari couldn't help the small grunt that escaped past his lips. A genuine smile graced Mukuro's lips as he swept a thumb under Hibari's eye, delving in the tickle the latter's lashes caused. Their gazes locked, and Hibari found a strange tug in his chest; the tug, he found, was different than the ones whenever Dino invaded his personal bubble—it was not that fluttering sensation that always managed to bring a blush onto his cheeks, but the warmth behind the bead-like eyes of his fluffy companion whenever he caressed the bird's yellow feathers.
Mukuro mouthed those words again. He stood, helping Hibari up as well. "Well, that and something else." He looked away, breaking the lock between their eyes. "Perhaps I will tell you in the future, after all of this shit is done and over with."
Hibari frowned at the foul language and was about to discipline the detective on that matter when the other interrupted him, stating the Skylark should take his leave now.
Black wings sprung to life, sweeping a gust of wind out. He mouthed the words Mukuro had as the wings flapped once, twice and elevated Hibari from the ground:
Everything is according to the plan.
A burst of purple, and Hibari dissipated without a trace.
Mukuro reached a gloved hand into his breast pocket and took out his cellphone; he dialed a number, holding it before his chest. The phone hummed silently until someone finally answered the other line. Not bothering to introduce his self, he commanded, "Search every nook and cranny for any stain of blood and run a DNA test on it; also, identify the missing work piece."
He heard a weak attempt to muffle a laugh that was surely direct at his failure of once again not being able to capture the notorious thief. "Yes, sir," the officer asserted after she was done with her laughing fit.
Mukuro snapped his phone closed and shoved it back down his pocket. He pinched the bridge of his nose as if to ward off the throbbing already pulsing within his head. Gritting his teeth in exasperation, he hissed, "This is sure to give me insomnia."
…
Low pants were barely noticeable in the Reception Room along with the occasional sounds of a drop of a liquid marking the ground and a pen scribbling across paper. Hibari peered around his office in search for his second in command and sighed internally in relief when he found him sitting on one of the leather couches doing the usual paper work, not even noticing his presence in the room yet. Taking one wobbly and silent step at a time, he slowly made his way to Kusakabe, and, once he was situated next to the other, he allowed his body to fall like rags on the comfortable furniture.
Startled to the next world, Kusakabe snapped his head to his side to find his superior resting against the couch closer than what Hibari would usually allow for him to be. As he trailed his eyes all over what he could see of Hibari, he said after a sigh, "You startled me there, Kyou-san. Was it successful?"
Grunting in response, Hibari pushed himself away from the couch with great effort and ripped the bandages off to reveal the gory gash carved onto the side of his arm. "Fix it quickly," he commanded as though he was ordering a cup of coffee.
Kusakabe immediately jumped to his feet when his sight landed on the bleeding wound; he looked down at Hibari, telepathically questioning if he could do what he was about to do, and the latter nodded up at him. Carefully wrapping his fingers around the wounded arm, he brought it close to his face to inspect the wound. "I'm glad the bullet is not in there," he said after several moments of inspection, and, almost automatically after he said that, he felt Hibari wobble under his grip. "Would you like to sit down, Kyou-san? This may take a while."
As if his feet were glad to be rid of the unsteady weight upon them, Hibari immediately slumped down on the couch once more while he simultaneously took off his shirt and coat.
Kusakabe peered around the room and noticed the blinds were half-way open. He walked over to the window and pulled down the blinds, the room now completely devoid of light. He turned to his left, opened one of the metal cabinets, and took out a medium-sized box from within. Opening the box, he browsed through the contents before glancing warily at Hibari.
"What is it, Tetsuya?"
"We've run out of anesthetics."
Hibari shrugged his shoulders, hissing lightly at the pain that flared from his wound because of the movement. "Just get on with it."
Kusakabe bobbed his head in understanding. "Right." Kusakabe went back to Hibari's side and sat down in front of Hibari on the glass coffee-table, placing the medical kit on his lap, and, from within the small compartment, he produced the tools he needed to tend properly to the wound. Kusakabe opened the alcohol bottle, the strong smell of it making his eyes water. "We've also run out of the other antiseptics."
Hibari nodded. "I'll send someone to buy the things we need later." A cool substance grazed the surrounding area of the gash while he was distracted with the line of light filtering into the room, and he flinched back at the painful sensation it created, but Kusakabe's hand around his arm didn't allow him to go far.
Kusakabe briefly looked at Hibari apologetically before continuing rubbing the wet cotton swab on the gash, Hibari jerking slightly from time to time when he rubbed overly sensitive areas. Twenty bloody swabs later, Kusakabe finished with that task. Now it's on to the worst part. Passing a dark thread through the whole on a needle easily in a way that would have made one question how often this sort of event occurred, Kusakabe tilted Hibari's arm to the side a bit more to get a better view. He brought the needle dangerously close to the pale skin and heard Hibari take in a breath. Pressing the needle harder against the skin, the needle slid inside Hibari's arm in a gory fashion; moving the needle upwards, the sharp end pocked through on the other side of the wound, and he pulled on the needle gently so the rest of the string passed through the passage he created through Hibari's flesh.
Hibari bit down on his lower lip to stop himself from jerking away, knowing from previous experience it was never a good choice to move when being stitched, and distracted himself by counting sheep (even though it made him raise an eyebrow at the thoughts popping into his head at the moment, he ignored it and blamed it on the blood loss; pain was never a problem, so he could not use that as an excuse), almost like he was singing. That struck a memory of a few years ago that seemed to be much longer when he looked back on it:
Hibari had been so bored out of his mind one day he had begun to sing just for the sake of keeping himself entertained, for there were no herbivores around that day to bite to death; he hadn't noticed, however, the presence that had inched closer to him from the door of the roof once he began the melody his mother had taught him all those years ago when she still lived. He closed his eyes in concentration as the lyrics revived in his memories—it was an odd song, but he had come to like it over time.
Finishing off the song in a low murmur, he opened his eyes and nearly jumped in astonishment when he saw a tall teen clapping in front of him—a foreigner, he noticed instantly, when he saw the naturally blond hair and heard the way his voice had a minor accent of a language he was more than certain originated somewhere far away from Japan. Cheeks flushed in embarrassment at being caught singing of all things, he growled through his clenched teeth as he jumped to his feet, his tonfa drawn at his side in one hand, "I'll bite you to death."
The foreigner's blinked at him, not quite understanding the strange arrangements of Hibari's words. "Pardon?"
Hibari inwardly seethed at the man's lack of fear. "Who are you, and what are you doing in my school," he demanded.
Laughing, the blond placed a hand on obsidian locks, ruffling the strands. "Aren't you too young to be in middle school?"
Hibari slapped the intrusive hand away. "I'm thirteen." He peered up, cerulean boring into sorrel.
"Wao." The foreigner could only blink as he was given the full view of the other's features. "Are you sure you're not a porcelain doll instead?"
"Kyou-san."
Hibari immediately came back to the present time and scrunched his eyebrows in confusion, not realizing he had fallen asleep. He blinked a few more times to dissipate the translucent clouds magnifying the light in the room more than its brightness actually was. He slowly sat up, his bad arm across his torso, and peered around the room; he found Kusakabe at his desk finishing the small pile of papers stacked on one corner of the wooden desk. Stifling a yawn behind a hand, he asked for the time.
Kusakabe stopped his scribbling for a moment to look around the room. Once his eyes settled on what he was searching, he replied, "Two past nineteen." He was about to return to his work when a sudden thought formulated in his head without his consent, and, deciding it wouldn't hurt to ask, he said, "Kyou-san, I heard a strange rumor going around, saying that Kyou-san has a"—he gulped, dreading his superior's reaction—"a lover that brings him outrageously expensive presents, the same lover who constructed the IUNC only for Kyou-san."
Actually stopping to think about this, Hibari hummed as he contemplated. I can see how that strange thought of him being my lover came about. He walked over to his desk and picked up a document sitting there; he scanned the words without much interest, but raised his eyebrow at the request the club that wrote it was making it. "Money for buying new instruments for the Music Club", they say? Turning around to face Kusakabe, he pointed to the paper he held in the hand of his bad arm and said, "Tell them the Disciplinary Committee can provide two-thirds of the costs, but the rest they must raise on their own; they shouldn't depend entirely on the Disciplinary Committee to provide for them whenever they need something. Also, while you are on it, buy me a Guarneri violin."
"A violin, sir?"
Hibari replied as he walked around his desk, placing the document in its original position as he did so, towards the window situated behind it, "I want to learn how to play it."
Kusakabe raised an eyebrow at the sudden desire to learn a new instrument; wasn't the Head Prefect superb enough with the piano and electric guitar? "Should I hire a tutor for you?"
"No"—Hibari pried the window open and placed a foot on the windowsill to propel his body forward—"I'll have Cavallone teach me."
The fact Hibari was about to vault off a window suspended five floors up did not faze Kusakabe at all, and instead a second eyebrow rose. "Ah, wait, Kyou-san. May I inquire who this 'lover' of yours is?"
"Cavallone Dino." Hibari thrust his self forward with the help of his foot and landed on the ground below with a gentle tap of his feet safely hitting the ground.
The pen roll off from Kusakabe's paralyzed hand to the floor, a loud clatter in the stiffly silent room, an expression of pure astonishment etched all over his subordinate's rough-edged face.