Disclaimer – Don't own.

Hello to my new readers and old readers!

So this is my third (freaking) attempt at a HibariOC because I hated my last two, I found no substance in my OCs and the plot was just disastrous. Themes are darker than my usual fanfics, but it's something I've wanted to try for a while now. So a fair warning, this story is not all rainbow and unicorns. I hope I don't drop this as well, seriously, but I don't think I will this time…but knowing my issues with motivation I should be worried.

My knowledge on electric guitars is laughable, but nevertheless I do listen to masked guitarists so I have some basic knowledge.

Thank you for taking your time to read my new project, and I'd appreciate some feedback :)

Warning for possible OOCness. POSSIBLE.

The Pursuit of Perfection

Prologue

It is every foolish girl's goal and principle in life to break the outer core of a jerk. A delusion that stems from movies, comics, cartoons and books indulging in the stupid idea that every hardcore guy has a soft spot waiting to be pushed, and once that's over with, a life of paradise awaits. You break his cold shell and his inner, sensitive side will pour into your hands, spouting springs of devoted love. But is that reality, or a myth?

Kurara Masao never dwelled on this possibility. She was indeed drawn to the idea of loving a jerk and breaking his shell. She wanted a love story like those in romance novels and manga books. The ones about your typical asshat that was either too cool for school or too egotistical for a soulmate, because we all know that deep inside jerks are most starved for love. Kurara also blindly believed love was possible between an idol and his/her fan. Distant love was the strongest, in her opinion, where one could look on the screen of their computer and still develop real feelings, not just infatuation. Chortle – they'd say.

For Kurara, this person was a stranger on the other side of the country. An internet sensation that cared little for his fans. Username Namimori02345 (or Mori for short) was a guitar prodigy that had been posting videos on MyTube for the past three years, hailed with the 'Hands of God'. Of course, no one really knew what he looked like. His 154 videos consisted of him shredding his pearl white Ibanez while sitting on his bed, clad in a black V-neck sweater and jeans, neck up hidden from the camera. Mori's technique with the electric guitar was unrivalled, and he wasn't far behind as a bassist either. Many agencies were desperate to scout him, and Kurara knew this for a fact, as he had appeared on the news several times with the headlines 'Unknown Prodigy Rejects Big-shot Label'.

Kurara's favourite video by far consisted of Mori sitting on a pleather couch, his guitar held at a slant as his fingers grilled the 6 strings like an unstoppable machine - 30 Days Speed Shred. The music shrouded her room, his hands jerked up and down the instrument flawlessly. With every strum and pluck his pale, stringent fingers made with his red pick, Kurara's eyes would follow while in a deep trance. He neither tapped nor bobbed to the beat, instead, his hands did all the miracle work.

Truth be told, she knew nothing about guitars, but Mori's music was her life and love. She'd often dream about meeting him someday – a tall, handsome, and aloof guy that would drag her into his glamorous world. Now that was fools talk, but she was too ambitious to realize that.

Kurara's life was nowhere near flamboyant, and she was a very simple girl. If anything, the only thing that stood out was her rebellious, peach coloured hair that hung loosely just above her shoulders – something she'd done out of stupidity (also in hopes that Mori would find her more interesting if she ever found out his real identity and stumbled upon him). Her clear brown eyes always had a vacant stare, and her dangerously skinny frame was often the topic of discussion amongst girls that worked with her. It wasn't her fault she had a fast metabolism…but wasn't that every emaciated person's excuse?

She had a job as a housekeeper in a small hotel, and before that she was undergoing training as a nurse, and even before that she worked in a florist. Kurara had epically failed her highschool entrance exams after middle school, thus her parents had forced her into finding work instead. This had proven to be quite a hassle at first, as not many wanted to hire a highschool drop-out. But as the experience piled up, her résumé began to look much more beguiling.

Working in a hotel was no fun. Occasionally you'd stumbled upon a room with feathers stuck to the walls, and if you were extremely unlucky you'd get a room with red-stained bed sheets and all types of nasty substances.

Most of the girls were not particularly appreciative of Kurara's presence. They thought her a bit too abnormal and strange for their childish friendship circles, since she was constantly working with a blank gaze on her face (thinking about what life would be like with Mori). But none of this alienation crap bothered her.

On one crucial Saturday, Kurara had overheard several of her co-workers gossiping in the hallway in the evening before changing shifts.

"Say, have you heard? They've found the whereabouts of Mori!"

"Like, no way? How?"

"Who's Mori?"

"Like, what are you? From the 21st Century?"

Kurara very much wanted to come out and tell her it really was the 21st century, but she kept herself hidden against the wall.

"Namimori02345, that unknown guitarist on MyTube that has, like, a TOTALLY hot body…"

"Anyway, remember that one video where he was playing in a room full of books?"

"Yeah."

"Apparently someone's found out it's one of the conference rooms in Namimori University!"

"So he's a STUDENT? YEEEE!" the squealing went on until a group people had exited out the elevator, to which they bowed their heads and scurried away.

Kurara shuffled her feet upon this revelation. Nothing could excite her more than getting closer to her beloved Mori. Oh sweet Lord, let this be true.

That night, she spent about four hours scouring the Namimori University website. She had heard a lot about it from her parents during middle school – when they had had hopes for her. It was a prestigious university rivalling with Tokyo University, there was constant tension between the two schools when it came to ranks and successful students. Namimori U was reputable for its psychology department and renowned for producing top psychology scientists, with its professors earning several awards for their contribution to psychology over the years. One could say the only thing stopping this school from manipulating the world was ethics.

Kurara's parents had expected her to take this course back in her 'hopeful' days, so she couldn't help but visit the Faculty of Humanities and Sociology and see the future she could have had. She browsed through the faculty website. The Dean was a psychology professor that looked no older than herself, and strikingly handsome at that. He was unsmiling in his photo, his hair was jet black, and his eyes were sharp, slanted, and cat-like, they bore holes through her head even if it was a lifeless picture. Judging by his lazy posture while in his chair, the photo was taken unknowingly and without permission, the subheading read 'Hibari Kyoya, Dean.' Kurara had never seen a professor this young and beautiful.

Anyway, Namimori U had a pretty nifty Faculty of Science as well, but her parents had always told her:

"There's no money in staring at microscopic poo all day, if anything you'll die from cancer before you win a Nobel prize."

She found this quite intimidating as a child, and had since never attempted to pick up a science text book. But nevertheless, she had a look-see and found the Dean for this faculty to be very attractive as well. He was as young as Hibari Kyoya, but his hair was an electric blue and styled in the strangest way that somewhat reminded Kurara of a pineapple. He looked absolutely lecherous, but still, that didn't stop her from thinking he was terribly good looking. Too bad she didn't like science. He seemed to be smirking at the cameraman; his subheading read 'Rokudo Mukuro, Dean.'

The university was most likely popular for reasons other than high academic performances, it seemed to have something to do with young, attractive professors, Kurara couldn't quite put her finger on it.

She did extensive research on Mori's whereabouts , apparently what she had heard at her workplace was true. Mori's video number 150 was set in a different room with wooden shelves in the background stuffed with student's thesis'. A graduate student from Namimori University had recognized one of the books as her own thesis and claimed she previously studied psychology. This had sparked hoards of fangirls and fanboys to take action. Kurara was pretty sure the department of psychology was going to have a frenzy of new applicants this year onwards – well, it was probably helpful Hibari Kyoya looked like an asshole. But she liked people like that, Kurara bet she could get him to open up to her. No – she had to remain faithful to Mori. There had to be some way she could get into the university.

….

…..

The following day, she resigned from her job. She was set on moving to Namimori. She lied to her parents about wanting to start a new educated life studying psychology. Overjoyed, they agreed to support her until she found a part time job and a community college. Little did they know she planned to work a low income job for as long as it took to find Mori. So in a sense, she wasn't 100% lying…she did say she would get into Namimori U, just not with the more preferable method.

"It was nice knowing you Yura," said her co-workers.

They could have at least gotten her name right. At least.

"Yeah, I'm very sad to go." Kurara replied. This was the last time she would ever see them, and she really didn't care. She didn't even remember their names.

Departing with her parents was a much more emotional ordeal, but Kurara wouldn't let it stop her from chasing her love.

The night was short, and time went fast, the next thing she knew she was sitting on the bullet train on her way to the small town called Namimori. Here, while sitting on the train bench with her minimal belongings stowed in the compartment above, she finally reflected on her actions. This was probably the stupidest thing any human being could ever decide to do. She just gave up her job, lied to her parents, and was on her way to a completely different environment, all to pursue a guy who she only knew torso down. Kurara might as well have been in love with his guitar and it really wouldn't have made a difference. But at 21, she truly felt like life could take her somewhere better if she just did something bizarre.

Halfway there she slept, and she dreamt of meeting Mori on the school campus. Dreams could take a girl into a faraway place where she would never want to wake from, and sometimes they felt especially real. Kurara was no exception, but it was not entirely a dream of a stranger – well yes it was – but the face of Mori this time somewhat looked familiar. A stranger but yet, not a stranger? Whatever the case may be, she would forget all about it by the time she woke up.

About an hour later her eyes fluttered open at the sound of the carriage door slide open. Kurara looked startled to see who had just walked in. With a bag over his shoulder and the same glare he had in his photo. It was the Dean from Namimori University – Hibari Kyoya. Only he was wearing something so unexpectedly trendy; black baggy denims, a loose shirt, chains hanging from his neck and a pleather wristband. If Kurara didn't know, she would have thought this man worked in a host club rather than an educational institution. He looked even more dashing in person and it felt surreal to be in his presence.

He strode pass her, the smell of cologne drifting under her nose – that surprised her even more. Hibari deliberately took the seat furthest away from her, not even trying to hide his intention. He looked peeved at the fact that he couldn't have the entire carriage for himself. He rested his head against the window, and without a moment to spare, fell asleep.

It was coincidence, or maybe it was fate. Kurara was slightly offended by his actions but she couldn't help but poke her head up and peek at his sleeping face every once in a while. She wondered, was he single? What were his classes like? What was his life like? What was he dreaming about? He certainly looked like a very shut-in person. It hadn't occurred to her she had completely forgotten about Mori and the reason she was sitting on this bullet train in the first place. Hibari Kyoya, probably someone out of her reach, but he was sitting in the same carriage as her with his eyes shut. Kurara then made the decision to move closer, as stupid as it sounded. She got up quietly and moved a few rows down to sit right behind him. She twiddled her fingers nervously. Through the small gap, she saw his head lolled against the glass, his slick black hair was close enough for her to touch. She had an urge, yes, but not even idiots like her would dare.

Kurara felt her world was about to change.