Rating: T
Disclaimer: Akira Amono-sensei owns Reborn! and its characters; I solely us them for writing funtimes.
Author's Note: I wrote this from the outlandish thought that perhaps Hibari does't really enjoy being all that alone.
Emotions suck.
Despite their many primal, essential uses, sentiments have inexorably been a constant hassle and trench mankind has conflicted over for centuries. It is the well of all of life's beginnings and ultimate fate; from the fear of said inevitable annihilation to a Hellish ire born from nothing, it is due to those raw instincts that make us human. In some form or another, anyway.
However, as a certain skylark has belatedly noted; a select few of us would rather have been born without the troublesome things.
They harbor a foundation of abhorrence for emotions; because, after all, such traits have consistently proven to bring us to our utter demise. They are our paradoxical disadvantage. Additionally, perchance, Hibari also reviled them due to the myriad of feelings he experienced when he thought of a certain virtuoso. Many of those sensations he only underwent with said illusionist in thought, and he held no clue as to what their label should be due to their novelty.
Frustration? Excitement? Humiliation? Longing? Hatred? Adoration?
Even when he simply tried to sort them out, it brought him a migraine. Hibari had always made himself feel what he wanted — annoyance, bitterness, detachment — but now that his body was dictating his logic? What was he supposed to do, as an unknown prickling phenomenon began to sting at his eyes? What was he supposed to feel, as the innocent experience of hot, small droplets streamed from uncharacteristically soft obsidian?
Kyoya Hibari certainly did not know.
The one thought that managed its way through his muddled mind was of acknowledgment that the very virtuoso, who had humiliated him in battle, was gone. Undoubtedly not for eternity. No; not forever. Mukuro was simply taken back to the Vindicare prison, with Chrome his only basis to materialize every so often. Nay; he was gone in the sense that Hibari had never properly witnessed that condescending, smirking face. That it brought pure chagrin and disinclination and raw fury that when he did appear, the skylark honestly knew it was still Chrome's brittle body he was watching.
Kyoya Hibari sincerely missed the very man that had strewn his discipline so.