1. This is not Heaven
"Tell me... what do you really desire?" The devil asks, tilting his head a little. Blue strings of silk falling on his celestial features. He gently pushes the hair away and laughs quietly. The laughter is almost silent but nevertheless it pierces through the raven-head like a scream shattering all that he denies to be fragile.
"What I desire..." There was a long, painful sigh and then a short pause while he gathered strength to push away the hesitation. The empty silence fertilized the words to be said next with determination, giving them a meaning not meant to be understood and yet making them irreversible, thus forcing himself to carry out his threat someday.
"When that happens...I'll truly have to kill you." He said this with a voice exuding with intensity and irritation. Irritation towards himself or the other? He's not sure whether it's worse to know the answer or not. But he knows and his only solution is to dispose of it, to put all of it into a promise that's not like himself at all and yet is more than ever. He's irritated because he's too weak to do anything else about it and too strong to give up being who he is. The only thing that would give him satisfaction, or rather he wants it to be the only one, is to eliminate the source of the irritation. He relies on the thought of that pleasure, settling his anger down a little and there it is: the intensity.
The blue-haired embodiment of his current exasperation slightly raised his eyebrows. Not only did the blood-red glimmer in his gaze so similar to his own perplex him but also the whole statement and the way it was put.
"Oya...no 'biting to death' this time?"
No. It couldn't be "biting to death". He "bites" because it simply amuses him. It's a pleasure he wants. But this was different. This was something he had to do. He wished he could just "bite" it off without thinking twice. But he could'nt do it. He couldn't. He had to admit it. Even if he were able to bite him to death, eat him, devour him dry and senseless like he wanted, he still wouldn't be satisfied. He had to give up, had to know why it was different. Once he understood it he knew he would be able to completely, irreversibly kill it off.
A curious smile still played on the other boy's lips but he never got the answer. The burning glimmer only got stronger and the anger so deep the boy felt he could be swallowed by it. Feasting on his own murderous intent the raven child charges forward. Demonic eyes shining with bottomless frustration, seeing nothing but bloodstained satisfaction in the form of devilish red and angelic blue. For a moment when the metallic sound cuts through the air it's worse than a thousand nails scratching and at the same time better than a thousand gasps of pleasure nailing him down.
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A/N
Mukuro and Hibari belong to Amano Akira, not me.