The forest was alive. It was alive, it had a heartbeat, a wild thrumming in its very roots. Most people would call it quiet, likely eerily so. But not to Hibari Kyoya, no. To him, the forest had vivacity like nothing else. It lived and breathed. Animals lived and died here, and it was peaceful. Plants grew in abundance, herbivores thrived on the plants, and carnivores fed their families on the herbivores.
It was a natural order that Hibari understood and translated into his own life. The translation was surprisingly smooth. Humans were, after all, scientifically classified as animals. The dark-haired man – no longer a boy – sat in a thicket of trees, observing the vibrant buzz of life with a certain fondness in slate-grey eyes. This was the world he knew. It was the world he was safe in. Granted, he no longer needed the safety this particular thicket provided, it was still a… Comfort. The days he needed this comforting embrace were long, long over.
He was now capable of taking care of himself – and, if he so chose, others. Not that he did that often. Even though he'd mellowed out over the years, he still wasn't exactly what others would call charitable. Though there were, admittedly, a few exceptions. One Sawada Tsunayoshi came to mind – a repeat offender when it comes to being a recipient of the skylark's charity. One day the brunette would be fairly punished for his transgressions. … Yes, gaining Hibari Kyoya's 'charity' was a transgression. A rather deplorable one at that.
Speaking of Tsunayoshi… Yes, he was the anomaly in Hibari's carefully transcribed world. But at the same time, he fit perfectly well. A perfect anomaly. Closing his eyes, Hibari exhaled softly through his nose, allowing his thoughts to drift. Yes, a perfect anomaly fit him quite well, didn't it…? The brunette he essentially grew up with was (unsurprisingly) strong, yet he was a comparably small animal when lined up with the rest of their… Group. The word left a strange taste in his mouth, even if it was unspoken.
Hibari sighed, resting his head against the bark of a tree. He took solace in this solitude – it was the first time in a long time that he'd had this comfortable aloneness. He was going to savor this. No doubt the aforementioned Tsunayoshi would come looking for him. Or worse yet, send his yapping Chihuahua after him. So, for now, he'd take a much deserved nap. And bite whomever found him and woke him up, regardless of the offender's identity. But that was later. Sleep is now.
