Day One: Fall From Grace

Hibari Kyouya was contained in a damp cell, draped across the cold wall and hanging by the chains wrapped around his wrists and waist. His tattered shirt held together by a single cracked button and his pants carelessly hung about him, belt long ago cast into the shadowy corner. The only hope the somber place offers was a stream of light flowing in from the missing window panel, which also allowed a yellow ball of fluff to visit every so often.

Despite the eternal suffering he spent in that room, it must've only been a few hours ago that he was marching up to the inferior school, planning to bite to death the punk who dared to impose on his reign of order.

This was what he lived for. Seeking the troublemakers and executing their doom. Shining tonfas striking, connecting, delivering critical blows. Bringing down offensive beings until they lay still on the cold ground. His wrath was released on anyone and everyone who dared to impose their way above his. He only knew how to be in control, to have power, to be superior. He only knew how to be on top. He smiled after taking out those crowding bastards and squinted up at the sun. The sneaky delinquent waiting for him inside would satiate his hunger for blood. Blood that deserved to be shed. And then he could return to Namimori and sleep on the school's roof, satisfied and at peace.

He strode into the poor excuse for a building, dodged amateur attempts to attack him, and effortlessly threw them out of his way as he made his way into a shady room. Rokudo Mukuro was in that room. All he thought at that time was how stupidly proud Mukuro was and how easily he could bring such a herbivore down. He listened amusedly as the snake sputtered some nonsense about taking over Namimori. Hibari simply responded with the natural menacing words he used to threat those without a hall pass or those disturbing classes. However, this was his big fish. He smirked as he released the spikes on his tonfas and began to take confident steps towards his prize.

But suddenly, the atmosphere changed. Oxygen refused to surround him and breathing became difficult. He stopped dead in his tracks, frozen and drowsy. Even so, he kept his composure to the best of his abilities and kept his mind on his eventual satisfying win.

"Is something the matter? You look a little sick," the voice mocked in that smooth voice of his.

"Shut up," he commanded the annoying wannabe.

Mukuro dared to speak at him condescendingly, informing him of some hit man and some mosquitoes. The best retort Hibari's mind could muster was, "What are you talking about?" and it came out more alarmed than he intended it to.

He didn't hear what he was saying. A swarming dizziness consumed him and it spread like a plague. He began to lose control of his body and the stability in his mind. His vision blurred; all he could see were two satisfied eyes dancing amusingly at him and what looked like spiked hair. He caught the mention of a "Sakura-kura disease," and the next thing he knew, he was gazing at the appearance of what must've been millions of sakura petals floating above his head. The overwhelming scent invaded his senses and struck them useless. Shit, this wasn't supposed to happen. His labored breathing represented his incoming defeat but he kept telling himself he could overcome it. He had done it before and he would do it again. But Mukuro's menacing mismatched eyes and graceful strides toward him said the opposite.

Hibari Kyouya was helpless.

His stubbornness, however, shoved the idea out of his head. As soon as the criminal got within reach, he focused all his strength into his right tonfa, lashed out a badly timed swing and missed for the first time in his life. Mukuro took the chance to strike Hibari across the face with his forearm, throwing the prefect to the dusty ground in a single hit. The overly-confident teen kneeled in front of the crumpled and panting Hibari and mocked him.

"What a lovely sight. Is this the great Hibari Kyouya-kun I've heard so much about, here groveling at my feet? All of a sudden you lose your ability to fight?" he chucked, "How pathetic."

Hibari seethed with rage. Pride badly injured, he forced himself up and leaned on his arm. But there he was on his knees, completely despising himself for falling victim to some guy's lucky punch and completely despising said fortunate creep. And all the creep did was stand up, chuckle to himself and dish out more unmerciful blows. His left hook threw Hibari down again, boots connected with stomach, palm smacked across face. Mukuro leaned down to watch him cough up blood. Hibari tried and tried but he couldn't turn the tables, couldn't break out of the weariness, couldn't fight back. All he could do was glare up at the encouraged pineapple-head as he snaked a grungy hand into his smooth hair and tugged him up like a little puppet doll.

"Hm? You look like you want to ask me how I knew you'd been infected with Sakura-kura when you yourself did not. I wonder why?" he teased, then dropped him again. Hibari was quick to sit up again, not quite yet surrendering to defeat.

"Oh? You must be thinking you could beat me if the sakura weren't here. That is a misunderstanding," he began to go on again about something Hibari failed to comprehend.

"Now let's continue," he grinned.

He leaned over Hibari's bruised body, pulled him up by his limp arm, and continued to deliver perfectly aimed hits. Hibari caressed the ground. Mukuro smirked down at him with half-lidded eyes. He let his boot rest precariously on the smaller boy's groin, and then began to crush him with added pressure. His chuckle underlined his sadism.

"You aren't too bad looking when you squirm under me. I might have some use for you after all."

He gave one last demanding press before he kneeled again, grabbed the prefect's chin, and roughly brought his face within mere inches of his own. Consumed with hate, Hibari spat at him as soon as he got the chance. But all this got him was a small challenging smile and some saliva on his Discipline Committee jacket as Mukuro wiped his face with it. Then the overbearing devil leaned closer and ran his tongue possessively over one of the boy's cheek before throwing his head crashing down to the hard floor.

His mind began to cloud some more and he was slipping into unconsciousness. The last thing he saw was the bastard licking his fingers as if he just finished feasting on him. And then darkness was all there was.

Everything else was a blur. All Hibari knew was that he was somehow transferred to this abominable place and chained up like some prisoner before he woke up. Cuffs and chains caressed him and made it nearly impossible to move any part of his body, except for his legs. He tried kicking, pulling, shimmying, but it didn't work. The metal cut into his skin and was leaving him plum bruises. All he could remember was collapsing at the feet of Rokudo Mukuro after—dare he say—he crushed him. He growled in frustration at the thought of being taken captive, like some slave or plaything for the herbi-

He was being watched.

His senses did not fail him yet and for that, he was momentarily glad. He was definitely being watched.

He pondered whether or not the twisted bastard could see through walls with his unlawful tricks and illusions. He ached to arm himself with his tonfas, his loyal friends, but they were nowhere to be seen. He put on an angry face and glared about the room, until his eyes rested on a yellow furry thing perched on the small window ledge. His eyes couldn't make out what it was until it flew in and sat on a broken school chair. The bitter prefect softened a bit and simply stared at it in confusion. It was a bird. A small bird that looked abandoned by its mother.

"You're alone," Hibari blankly stated; this bird and he were alike. It was almost a symbol of hope.

The bird looked at him analytically. It twittered and flit about on the chair in a mindless innocent way—a state of mind Hibari lost long ago. It seemed to accept him too, torn clothes, bruises and all. A weak smile grazed Hibari's features. He'd always had a fondness for cute animals.

Suddenly his cell phone rang at his side. Namimori's anthem pitched its tune bold in the silent room. Hibari was abruptly knocked out of his trance and reminded of his committee at home. They shouldn't be bothering him. But if he could answer it he could alert…no. He damn well did not need help, nor did he need to notify anyone where he was or what he was doing. His faithful followers would have to deal with it. Hibari Kyouya always conquered.

He didn't try to answer his phone. He didn't acknowledge that he couldn't. His mind was preoccupied with the sound of footsteps creeping their way towards him and his newfound friend flying out the broken window. It flew away singing the Namimori school song. It must've learned it from Hibari's cell phone.

"What was that noise, I wonder?" marked the entrance of the lean blue-haired teenager, proudly armed with his trident.

The sakura petals had been gone, allowing Hibari to somewhat recover. But as soon as he saw the villain stride into his small cell, his breath hitched and a mixture of fury and vengefulness singed his mind and sped up his breathing. He sauntered towards the smaller boy and lifted his chin with the tips of his fingers, allowing Hibari to grit his teeth and glare the smirking one down.

"You should tell me Hibari-kun. You don't want to know what I am capable of," he chuckled as he snaked a hand down Hibari's torso and unbuckled his belt.

And with that, the committee president shook the dirty palms off his perfect face and lashed out a solid kick to Mukuro's stomach, finally knocking him back and dislodging his spidery ivory hands from his body. Hibari relished in the satisfaction of Mukuro's confused face, small stream of blood tricking from his mouth, arm cradled around his unexpected injury. Whatever the illusionist planned to do, Hibari would not let it happen. He would not.

But then Mukuro brought his sleeve to his mouth and wiped the evidence of defiance from his lips before he came back at the chained boy with much more force. He captured Hibari's neck in his grip and shoved him further into the wall. And as he strangled the young thing, he brought his other hand back to Hibari's pants and whipped the belt out in one swift movement, throwing it into a dusty corner.

"Hm? Are you resisting me?" he laughed in amusement and guarded Hibari's rebellious legs with his trident, "I assure you, when I want you, I'll have you. Escape is impossible, Hibari Kyouya." He gave one last squeeze and released his hold on the other's neck, then trailed his tongue along the bruises he created there.

"I'll make it so you're too weak to stand. I'll make you forget the need to render me an enemy. I'll make you compliant to whatever I may choose to do to you," he threatened as he fingered the button on Hibari's slacks and pulled down the zipper before undoing his own.

"I will bite you to death."

Mukuro leaned in until his face was mere inches from the prefect's, looked right into his eyes and whispered, "Are you sure you're capable?" He chuckled mockingly and forced Hibari's pants down, leaving them to pool at the teen's ankles. He swiftly lifted his sculpted calve over his shoulder, licked his lips, and proceeded to palm through the raven's boxers—belittling Hibari and enslaving him at the same time.

"You look pretty vulnerable to me."

At that, the prefect understood what was meant to be done to him. He began to struggle in Mukuro's strong grip, now leaning his right side into Hibari's only free leg as he roughly twisted and kneaded and crushed, obviously not amused at the lack of a bulge there. Hibari winced. He had been mangled and beaten and strangled and hit. And now he was to be a sexual plaything for some pervert.

"Squirming will do you no good. It'll just make me want you more." A flash of movement and his boxers were off and his leg was back in its place—over Mukuro's shoulder. The cold air caused Hibari's whole body to tense and the expulsion caused him to turn his head away.

Now don't get him wrong. Hibari would not break or cry at the theft of his virginity, he'd make this impudent bastard pay. He bared his teeth and promised a thousand deaths to Mukuro through a single look, but that didn't stop the other from ramming Hibari's head back into the wall and forcing two fingers past his lips, other hand digging into his face to keep his jaw open. He dug his way further and further into the prefect's mouth, spitefully molesting and exploring it while Hibari choked and gagged.

Mukuro pulled his fingers out to smirk at the strained breathing Hibari was coping with and grinned at the expression his face twisted into as soon as those fingers invaded his delicate ring of muscles. He shoved and he pounded his fingers into him. Hibari's brow furrowed and he squeezed his eyes shut, as if he could simply poof away the danger like he did when he was young. God, how pathetic. Defenseless, weak, and all he could do was bite his lip…and take it. It burned, being plowed through without hesitation.

And then Mukuro yanked them out. A pause. Then the cell walls vibrated with the echoes of a terrible yell. One Hibari was not accustomed to making, even if he was facing a horrible inescapable fate. Incredible pain was tearing him in half. He was hardly stretched and barely prepared, never been touched before this day. The sheer force sent his body sliding up the wall, his finger nails digging into that same wall as if it were possible to escape. His eyes flew open and fell to where Mukuro's body met his, in fast, unmerciful thrusts. In and out, in and out. He pounded the Namimori student into the wall, throwing all his strength into his wanton desire for him.

Rapid movements were creating such heat and friction and yet Hibari felt so incredibly cold. The boy with the superiority complex was being conquered and demoralized and he despised it. He despised that he was being dominated like some weak herbivore. He despised this man that was capable of forcing him into submission. He hated that his body wasn't getting used to the feeling. He hated the feeling of loneliness circulating in the pit of his stomach.

Unforgiving and sadistic was he, who loved to torture Hibari in ways he could not comprehend. Hibari would try to break free. He'd writhe and struggle and kick while trying to keep his composure staring into that sickness-inducing red eye. He tried to keep his wits about him, threatening death by tonfas and biting. But this would only result in that man crushing his bones and smashing his ribs and weakening Hibari's resolve that much more.

Rokudo Mukuro was obviously enjoying the gasps he was emitting from the normally stoic teenager. This drove his thrusts wilder and less rhythmic until his selfishness allowed him to spend himself inside the boy. His accelerated breathing came under his control again; then he was just the same heartless, inhuman bastard as he always was. He waited until he completely filled Hibari before pulling himself out. He drew up his own slacks before haphazardly doing the same with Hibari's, leaving the belt in the corner to catch dust "so it won't get in the way next time." And then he released the prefect from his bondage and allowed him to fall to the ground in a bundle of bones and flesh.

Mukuro lightly tapped his lips to Hibari's forehead and smiled as if he did not just seize his very soul in five minutes. And then he strode out of the cell, satisfied with his body and the state he's left said body in. Hibari was abandoned there. Body abused. Spirit broken. Mind tormented. Emotions welled inside the school boy, and for the first time in fourteen years, Hibari sobbed.

It couldn't have been longer than three hours before predatory eyes appeared before him…and then it was happening again.