Title: Teach Me to Sing
Rating: K
Character/Pairing: Hibari, Hibird, OC
Disclaimer: I do not own Katekyo Hitman Reborn!
Summary: Hibari and Hibird – their origin story.
Timeline: Shortly after the Kokuyo Arc
Dedication: My mom for taking care of my parakeets even though I was the one who wanted them in the beginning.
A/N: Before you claim bullshit! I say that I fully utilized my writer's license. Truth is that I'm too lazy to reread the manga, but let's ignore my sloth.
Sato Daisuke was no special person by any means. He owned a quaint little pet store in a quiet street where he lived with his wife on the top floor. His wife was a retired veterinarian and would occasionally assist his customers with ill pets but otherwise stayed away from the business. Every evening after a particularly normal day, Sato would walk up the backstairs to find a homemade dinner still warm waiting for him.
It was a pleasant, simple life that Sato had, except for one anomaly. Restaurateurs to pharmacists to drug dealers were bewildered to find out that Sato was the only merchant in Namimori that had not yet been threatened by that man.
And on a regular Sunday afternoon, Sato looked up from reading his newspaper as he heard the small bell over his shop door ring out. The open smile on his face froze a bit before he turned pale and felt his knees buckle slightly. He quickly glanced back down at the counter to avoid looking at the customers face. Sato murmured a welcome and his customer just sent him a blank stare.
The young man placed 300 yen on the register counter and calmly walked towards one of the back aisles. A minute later, he strolled back out and Sato let out a breath of air he didn't know he was holding. Still feeling slightly numb, Sato reached out for the money with shaky fingers.
He never knew what the young man purchased and he never let become curious enough to find out. He would rather not know because all the merchants of Namimori knew better than to accuse Hibari Kyouya of theft. And Sato happily accepted the 300 yen because it was better to be gypped than to have no store at all.
It never ceased to amuse Hibari when people who were talking with their friends, dating, feeding their baby – especially if there was a baby involved – fled as he approached. It pleased him to know that fellow citizens of Namimori were so disciplined, but also irritated him if he was in a sour mood and in need of a punching bag.
Hibari demanded silence wherever he decided to traipse but only on his late afternoon excursion did he allow his peace be broken momentarily. Hibari would sit on an empty park bench in an empty park as he threw out the birdseed he recently purchased and be amused by the flocks of birds that would fly down to greet him. He never understood his interest towards those little (weak) creatures, but he had always felt a connection to his namesake.
And this connection was broken on this particular day as the skylarks – instead of staying to chirp with their benefactor like usual – carried one or two seeds and flew away. Hibari raised a fine eyebrow and felt something twist inside of him. The birds dared depart from him.
Hibari stood up briskly and the remaining birds scattered. The prefect curled his fingers around his tonfa for the cold metal to calm whatever was stirring within him before walking briskly in the direction of the fleeting birds.
It was not long before he reached a curious scene. A multitude of various species of birds were encircling something that Hibari could not see. As he walked closer, the birds fluttered off in a storm of wings and feathers to leave behind a small yellow mass on the ground.
The yellow fluff ball was so odd looking that Hibari had to resist the temptation to poke it childishly. Instead, he reached for a twig. Just as he knelt down to peer at it closely, little yellow wings unfolded to reveal a bright yellow bird. And the miniature camera on its thin leg it had formerly concealed beneath its body.
Hibari narrowed his eyes at the sight. Beside the bird was a little mound of birdseed, which answered question of why his skylarks were acting strange. But it wasn't until his eyes caught sight of the camera that he let out a chilling whisper, "Why are you spying on my town?"
Beady little black eyes stared back at him.
"Who is your master?"
There was no threat in those eyes. Just curiosity.
Hibari started to walk away from the bird with strong intent to find out who was spying in his territory, when he heard a quiet, high-pitched chirp say, "Bird."
He whirled back around and stared at the yellow avian. "You can speak?" Silence. "Who talk you to speak?"
"Bird."
Interesting. "I know you are a bird. Who taught you to speak?"
"Bird!"
It seemed the bird only knew how to say one word. The yellow fluff ball attempted to stand up, but fell back over from the weight of the camera. Hibari slowly reached out his hand to remove that attached camera and when he received no resistance, slipped it into his pocket. He would have Kusakabe investigate it properly after he returned from the hospital.
Hibari started to leave, seeing that the danger had been neutralized and perhaps, the birds of Namimori would return to normal. Just then, his phone rang out with the ever familiar Namimori school anthem and while Hibari ignored the call (it was probably another call from the police department, why weren't they more disciplined?), he noted that the song seemingly energized the small bird and it was currently following him.
Following was inaccurate. It sort of flitted, tumbled, and bounced after him with its beady black eyes unwavering. Hibari felt something twinge inside him, and although he kept his face passive, he knelt down and extended an open palm. The bird trilled out a chirp and hopped onto his hand.
The bell rang for his store again and Sato felt a bit of dread. He hoped it wasn't the owner of the bulldog that had managed to lick and chew everything in his store that below the height of two feet in the ten minutes he stayed in the store.
Sato never really had much luck, and his dread doubled when he realized that while it wasn't the owner of the bulldog, it was Hibari Kyouya. For the second time in one day.
Before he could stutter a welcome, the young man walked up to the register and dropped something yellow on his countertop. Sato blinked. It was a bird.
"Fix him," Hibari said. And that was the first time Sato actually heard the prefect's voice, and he almost jerked in surprise. He had imagined the dangerous boy to have a more threatening tone. Not that he wasn't feeling threatened right now.
"O-of course Hibari-san. It seems that he is just a bit malnourished and his leg might be sprained. He should be better in two days. When will you come back to pick him up?" Sato was rambling, but there wasn't a store owner he knew that didn't ramble in Hibari Kyouya's presence.
The blue-gray eyes that flickered to Sato's nametag seemed emotionless. "I won't be, Sato Daisuke."
Sato stared in surprise. This species of bird was rarely seen in Namimori and he thought that perhaps it was Hibari's personal familiar, but it seemed it was perhaps just a stray that caught the rare flicker of benevolence from the violent prefect.
Hibari was starting to leave when the small bird twitted out an unsteady, but certain tune. Midori tanabiku-
All movement stopped as Hibari trained his eyes on the yellow avian and Sato swore he heard the pounding of his own heart in his ears. Just as Hibari whirled around to leave, he said curtly, "Tuesday."
"So you are healed."
Chirp.
"What's your name?"
Chirp.
"Was it a fluke that you sang the Namimori Anthem?"
Chirp!
"Who's your master?"
"Hibari! Hibari!"
"I will teach you a song…"
Dragonmage27: I hope you enjoyed that! I had a really long one-shot planned for my 20th fic, but I haven't had the time to write at all (I just finished my one month long summer job whooooh and now my Japanese cuisine workshop is about to start) So I apologize! I am still working on Bloodlust – alright I'm lying. I have it planned but my main focus is finishing another story called Tower of Ruin. With luck, I will have it posted by the end of the summer.