I've actually already posted this on my LJ, but ANYWAY. I've always been wanting to bring my stuff over here as well, 'cause here's where the idea of fanfiction all started for me.

It's been a rough, terrible, horrible, torturous, taxing, murderous year, but the worst event is soon to be over. T wT

All creativity has been squashed by school and exams and 'THIS IS FOR YOUR FUTURE DON'T SCREW IT UP', but when I'm sitting/mostofthetimestanding on the bus home and in a daze and tired and fatigued and dying, plotbunnies were doing gymnastics in my head; I just didn't have the time+ENERGY to pen anything down. Hopefully I can, now.

Reviews are constructive criticism are appreciated and loved. :D

Title: Changeless
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairings: Dino, Hibari, Tsuna
Summary: If Dino knew. Slightly AU.

'I'll take care of you,' Dino promises dutifully.

'I don't need you to take care of me.'

An ungrateful, unpleasant growl of static. There's the sound of cluttering books on the other end, miles and miles away in Japan. In a quiet little town. In a tiny, lonely room. Kyouya at his desk, shoving the books he needs into his bag, tossing the rest into a bin. Dino imagines the room. Not that he can remember it much. It's been a long, long time since he was in Japan. But he remembers, on one unforgettable occasion, the half-a-metre high bonfire of paperwork in a corner of the room enclosed in invisible cordons. He remembers sitting a cautious three-feet away, staring at the flames and listening to the crackling and thinking poor, poor Kusakabe, no drinking with Romario tonight.

'I don't mean you, of course. I mean you you. The other you. You get what I mean.'

Kyouya's reply is biting and sarcastic. 'Me me can take care of himself.'

There's a pause.

'Shut up. You're not even supposed to know. Stop talking about it.'

Dino conjures a picture of Kyouya all the way in Japan, frozen in mid-motion, frowning deprecatingly.

He lets some time lapse to kill the awkwardness.

'You always tell me everything,' he says pointedly.

'I should stop.'

Dino smiles amusedly, confidently. 'You won't.'

'Shut up. I'm putting down the phone.'

'Take care of yourself,' Dino chirps brightly. 'I'll see you you soon.'

Hibari drags himself into Sawada's room, and bursts the door open with the butt of his tonfa. There are stylish, cylindrical dents all over Sawada's door. The obnoxious bastard with the infernal cat and insurmountable number of boxes is always shrieking for a change. Saintly Sawada is always forgiving and saying 'It's okay'.

'Kusakabe said he reported to you,' Hibari says tightly.

He's barely been in the room for ten seconds, and already he feels suffocated by the cuddly, familial atmosphere of the boss's room. Portraits all over the place. A pile of letters on the armchair. More photo albums than books. A Polaroid on his study table, and freshly printed pictures littered amongst paperwork. The man himself is like a piece from the toy store – standing, smiling, practically emanating 'I'll-take-care-of-you-everything's-going-to-be-fine' warmth.

'It's okay,' he says, beaming, and Hibari aches to strangulate him. 'I wanted to talk to you personally. Take a seat.'

Hibari remains standing.

'Hurry up and vomit your claptrap. I'm busy.'

Sawada smiles sadly. He's been doing that a lot lately. It's agitating.

'I need to ask,' Sawada says, sitting down heavily behind his desk, 'does Dino know?'

Hibari stiffens visibly.

'He does, doesn't he?'

'Can I go now?'

Sawada Tsunayoshi looks at him imploringly, the forlorn puppy-eyed smile still on his face. It's pathetic and loathsome but it always, always works.

'He does,' Hibari says, after a while, and proceeds to meticulously observe his boss. There's no change in facial expression. He's still got the pathetic, almost doleful look. Hibari adds, more curiously than anxiously, 'Are you going to yell?'

'I'm not saying Dino can't be trusted.'

'Funny – but that's what you're saying.'

'What I'm implying,' Sawada cuts in tentatively, 'is that I remember requesting for absolute confidentiality on the matter.' Finally, he wipes the smile off his face and leans back in his chair tiredly. 'I'm not angry.'

'You never are,' Hibari comments dryly.

'I trust you,' Sawada says, and God, oh, God, he's doing it again. Stupid smile. Stupid Sawada Tsunayoshi. The world doesn't get all better just because you're the perfect saint - it only feels like things will get better, like everything will be like before, all stupid smiles and stupid, happy family activities together, laughter everyday. 'I trust you. I'm actually kind of happy, you know. That you confided in him. It means you trust him.'

'I'm leaving,' Hibari growls irately.

It's actually kind of nostalgic.

He's sitting in a corner of the room, in bloody, wholly ruined clothes with the first aid kit, broken bones, unpleasant bruises, and extensive, smarting grazes, delicately dabbing disinfectant over his wounds. Kyouya – the smaller, younger one – is at the polar end of the room, burrowed beneath a large, occasionally wobbling mass of pillows and blankets. Dino knows, for a fact, that Kyouya hasn't washed his wounds – a nasty lot of them, too – or disinfected them or bandaged them properly. Very Kyouya-esque, and very unhealthy.

'Don't get blood all over the bed,' Dino says, loudly. 'The girls won't appreciate it.'

'Shut up.'

A muffled, only vaguely familiar voice. A higher pitch than what he's used to. He's a little sad as he thinks of Kyouya – the older, bigger one – somewhere. He's also a little worried, but he keeps up the air of insouciciance for the younger, smaller Kyouya and everyone else's sake. Everyone needs to keep going.

He valiantly makes another attempt at drawing Kyouya out. 'You won't find a first aid kit in the stuffing.'

'I said, shut up.'

'I know it hurts like crap. You better come out,' Dino says. 'Unless you want to really get sick and stay in bed all day while everyone's off exerting themselves.'

He does what works really well when it comes to Kyouya.

He waits.

After a torturously long, long time of sitting very still, leaving his wounds exposed and stinging (he considered it was best for Kyouya not to get even the vaguest, tiniest misconception that Dino had absent-mindedly, uncaringly gone back to his previous task - he did always make such a load of noise fumbling with the kit), the lump of cotton sacks crumbles.

'My elbow hurts like hell,' Kyouya announces.

Dino nods apologetically, and staggers to his feet, nearly tripping over his shoelaces, first aid kit securely in hand. 'You hit the wall pretty hard.'

'I'm hungry.'

'I'll make sure Romario brings a nice dinner.'