Pairing: TYL!Hibari/TYL!Mukuro (1869)
Disclaimer: Katekyō Hitman Reborn! and all its characters are property of Amano Akira. No copyright infringement is intended.
Notes: Written for Sakura Addiction Week on Mukuhiba (LJ comm). Thanks to Ranty Rie for supplying this Will Durant quote as my prompt: "One of the lessons of history is that 'nothing' is often a good thing to do and always a clever thing to say."
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Kyōya's shoes crunch over broken glass. Gucci shoes, but he was never one to care if he got a few scuffs while working. If he had to replace them, then he would simply bite someone to death--anyone would do. Though he did have a particular person in mind.
He follows a trail of bloody footprints across the glass-strewn floor to find Rokudō Mukuro sitting in a window, legs crossed, chin propped on hand. Small droplets of blood drip from his bare feet onto the ground.
Kyōya scowls in greeting. "You're alone." Statement, not question.
"Kufufu. Of course. I remembered how you hate crowding." Rokudō smiles, a smile laced with sakura and apathy. Blood continues to drip from his bare feet.
A man who spent the better part of his life locked away in a cold, dark tank at the bottom of the Vendicare Prison should not look so beautiful. From the arch of his long neck to the gloss of his blue hair, Rokudō exudes elegance, somehow perfectly mobile and healthy. Perhaps his illusions replace his atrophied muscles, just as they replace Chrome's missing organs.
"Aren't you going to attack me?" Rokudō asks, as idle as the car waiting outside for Kyōya.
Kyōya narrows his eyes. "So eager to die? You're very masochistic today. Is that why you walked barefoot over a floor covered with broken glass?"
"Oh, no, my lovely skylark. I did it to remember what pain felt like it. I have not felt real pain like that in years. It was delicious." Rokudō plucks a small piece of glass from his foot, smile never wavering. He glances back at Kyōya. "Are we to begin our dance again? You chase me down, make me pay for my crimes?"
"I came to ask a question."
"Kufufu. Even better. Ask away."
"Why did you save me from Byakuran?"
Rokudō seems mildly surprised, as if only just now remembering how his real illusions trapped within unreal illusions within real illusions shielded Kyōya from Byakuran's relentless attacks. Kyōya despises being rescued, but this particular rescue robs him of sleep and leaves him sitting in his institute at night, staring down at a cup of green tea long since grown cold. Over the past ten years, Kyōya never stopped chasing Rokudō and his illusions, but now he owes Rokudō his life. He despises conflicts of interest even more than being rescued.
"Well?" Kyōya demands.
"Such impatience." Rokudō's red eye glitters more than his blue one. "I don't like to see pretty things broken. Such a sad sight."
Rokudō's tone makes Kyōya's hands itch to pull out his tonfas and beat respect into his opponent, but Kyōya restrains himself. He did not come here for violence--not this time. "I see. You want something from me. Perhaps to stop hunting you?"
"Kufufu! Of course not. That's our special time together. Why would I wish for you to stop the chase? I enjoy playing hard to get." Rokudō licks his lips and distracts Kyōya with a brief image of Rokudō's tongue sliding over his bared flesh. The illusions fades just as Kyōya blinks. Rokudō's beauty makes him a worthy conquest, but his crimes make him just as worthy a victim of Kyōya's wrath. Perhaps, once Kyōya catches him, he will be both.
"Say what you want now. I will not give you another chance."
"Absolutely nothing."
"Nothing?"
"Nothing."
Kyōya studies Rokudō. He memorizes the heavy-lidded eyes filled with demonic mischief, the smile curving with the promise of sakura blooms. "I see." He spins on his heel and heads back out the way he came, glass crunching beneath his heels.
"But you didn't ask me why I want nothing from you."
Kyōya pauses and glances back. From this angle, Rokudō seems a shadow silhouette framed by an empty window. But Kyōya can still see that damn sakura smile.
"I'll tell you, since you won't ask." Rokudō tilts his head back, and sunlight spills over his perfect face, setting his outline afire. He does not create any illusions this time, but then, as beautiful as he is, he does not need to--he already captivates Kyōya. "The renowned philosopher, Will Durant, once observed that 'one of the lessons of history is that "nothing" is often a good thing to do and always a clever thing to say.'"
Kyōya turns away again. "Do not trouble me with riddles."
Rokudō laughs. "Oh, my skylark, how singular you are. I look forward to the resumption of our game. It will be even more fun now that I am free, and willing to do as you please, if you are good enough to catch me."
As Kyōya leaves Kokuyo Health Land, Rokudō's laughter chases him, riding on the cold air beside him. He heads to where Kusakabe waits with the idling car. Gravel crunches beneath his feet. When he reaches the vehicle, he glances up at the window where Rokudō sat, but sees nothing but shards of glass jutting from the window frame like the back of a hedgehog. A breeze bearing the hint of spring ruffles Kyōya's hair.
The sakura will bloom again soon, Kyōya thinks, but he does not know if they will die as quickly as they did all the years before it.
Owari.