He hated goodbyes – but he hated hellos more, because hellos always lead to goodbyes.

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Disclaimer: I do not own Katekyo Hitman Reborn! But I do love the manga....

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':.; "Kiss and Cry";.:'

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Hibari hated goodbyes. It was one of the reasons why he never interacted much in the first place; an instinctive move. By keeping a distance, he realised, no one would approach him and hence, no goodbyes.

He was content with that. And it was so for a long time, until a certain Vongola came into the picture.

His first encounter with the young, easily-beleaguered child was in the previously unoccupied confines of the reception room. Hibari never said hello – before he introduced himself, he introduced his tonfa. That was his unspoken golden rule. The sickening crack of flesh upon steel, of bones cracking under the sheer strength of his tonfa, translated into his greeting.

The other two Vongola went down next. They were like flies, Hibari thought distastefully as he flicked some imaginary dust off his shirt. So easy to bring down, so easy to make them cower in fear.

But then the baby appeared, and he was forced to revise his opinion a little. Thrills of excitement coursed through his veins when they clashed – not steel against flesh like Hibari predicted, but steel against steel. Admirable.

They broke away. And long after the weakling herbivores disappeared, Hibari still thought of them, and of the little infant who had caught his eye.

He saw nothing more of them for a while, though the occasional spats and brushes remained. Then one day he woke up to find a weird thing on his table. It was like a jagged crown, albeit one that was far too small for any human head, and upon closer inspection he realised it was a ring – half of one, to be exact.

He stared at it, because no matter how hard he denied it, the ring was a beautiful masterpiece, intricately carved complete with miniscule clasps where the halves of the rings must meet. It would fetch a good price, he mused.

His first forced hello was to Dino, who gave him a very bad first impression (what crazy mafia wore such flashy clothing anyway? So not inconspicuous). He disliked his confident, carefree saunter, and his unkempt hair was definitely a breach of the school rules. Hibari scowled.

As usual, his tonfa said hello first. And for once in his life, he regretted doing that – and it wasn't entirely because Dino's whip licked him in retribution, either.

He hated it because it brought about a chain of events that bound his wings, gently threading fine threads through every one of his sensitive feathers. It secured him down, and he did not like that. Hibari Kyouya was a free man.

He listened to the Cavallone's explanation with half an ear, more intent on drawing pain, annoyed that Dino couldn't be defeated unlike countless others before him. Twin tonfas twirled and danced as they played against the snake that was Dino's whip. Throughout it all, Hibari's anger grew, and he bit out scathing replies to Dino's statements.

He didn't need to be tied down; he didn't need to group with weak herbivores; he certainly didn't need them to protect him, nor vice versa.

But at the end of the day his loss rankled deep in his core, resentment spilling out of him in waves. He would defeat Cavallone Dino, Hibari swore. He would defeat him, make him grovel in the dirt, and just plain bite him to death.

Cavallone returned the next day. Hibari didn't waste any time pressing the attack, swinging his tonfas with a vengeance. Once again he lost – but he took some consolation in the fact that Dino went back limping – and he retreated into the Prefect's room to nurse his wounds.

The same thing occurred day after day, with Hibari bowing out as a begrudging loser. He gained footage on Dino every day, though – a little scratch here, a sprained wrist there, and he smirked in satisfaction for a while.

Then on the eighth day he struck – and won. His tonfas made clean work of Dino's whip, twisting its leather body around the steel length of one and hitting out with the other. Victory bloomed like an addicting red flower in Hibari's chest. He gloated, because victory of this nature was rare.

The loco Gola Mosca really tried him, even with Dino's harsh (and very much practical) training; Hibari found himself hard-pressed to keep his dour look, but he did it somehow. And Xanxus…Hibari licked his lips at the memory. Ah, that was power all right.

Things unfurled at a fluctuating rate after that, always accelerating, with only scant moments of reprieve. Hibari breezed through it all, standing proud with tonfas by his side. He never relied on the herbivores – heaven forbid that from happening. Hell would freeze over before he chewed his pride enough to do it.

Sawada Tsunayoshi wouldn't stop pestering him though, and nor would his cute little troop of Guardians. They pulled him along wherever they went despite his threats to bite them to death. He was most unwilling, but what was he to do against them all?

Though of course, a certain Rokudou Mukuro was an exception.

So they stuck through thick and thin, through future and past and present, backing each other up like bricks held by mortar.

And somehow, over time, he found that the binds weren't so constricting after all – he could still fly.

Thus, he never truly needed to say goodbye.


Wasn't as nice as Enchantment, I know. But I'll admit – I was too excited to know your opinions on the way I ended this, because I really, really liked it. Somehow. Vain of me, yes? Hahaha.

Second fic, but by no means hold back on the criticism. I appreciate anything that can help me improve…except, of course, illegible and nonsensical flames.

That said, please read and review! Tell me what you think so I can improve and write some more. :)