Warnings: this story will contain sexual content.

Beta'd by fuwacchi.

I don't own Kateikyoushi.

Chapter one—Sensations

HPOV

I groaned lightly and ran a hand through my hair whilst thinking about my life. If I had to be blunt about it, I'd describe my life in one word—dull. Dull would definitely be the word I'd use. My everyday consisted of the same routine that got repeated and repeated, various amounts of times. On the very rare occasion there's a significant difference from the usual, but that barely ever happened. I didn't consider myself a complete pessimist and despise the world and all the actions that revolved around it. No, that would be stupid; I'm just honest. If I made my eyes really pay attention to my surroundings, I saw the same things. Anywhere I looked in the world, I found children crying out in joy. It was the same in every country, it was just their appearances that change.

The one thought that spontaneously popped into my head at that moment was one regarding the belief that our life is a 'string'. The string joined everyone else's and merely waited until the Gods finally decided to cut it—if life was that insignificant to them, how could anyone consider themselves special or at least treasure someone? I hoped that my 'life string' was close to being cut. If that was so, then I would experience something different in the afterlife. For all I knew, I might even be reincarnated. I smirked slightly at the thought—it was always nice to picture myself as a ferocious animal which terrorized people.

Shaking my head lightly, I continued walking down the street. It was completely monotone; the buildings, the sidewalk and just about every leaf that was settled down on the ground. Even blending in with the rest of the gray, I managed to spy a small rock just a few feet in front of me. I gave it a gentle kick at first, to get a good feel of it. Once I was happy that I knew where not to kick on it, I roughly shoved it into the road. The thought of actually tripping over it popped into my mind, even if it was rare, it could happen. The situation would have been similar to my pride being poked with a hot steel rod. I sighed a little internally but in reality it came out as a harsh breath. The details I found out from reviewing my life so far were not pleasing.

Before I started thinking again, I glanced down at my chest with a frown. I quickly realized that I'd never had any experience where my heart started thumping loudly. The first time I was in a fight could have counted, but that was mostly due to adrenaline. That would have been at least twelve years ago. I possessed the same personality I had now when I was in Kindergarten, or at least close enough, which I'm sure none of the other children appreciated, but it certainly was fun. Just the thought of referring to myself with the honorific '-chan' had me inwardly cringing. It certainly wasn't an action I approved of. The idiot teacher had dubbed me as 'Kyou-chan' and that definitely had to be what encouraged my first fist fight. I wasn't particularly fond of verbal ones—they didn't cause enough damage in my eyes. The other males of the class, with the females watching in the background, had instantly crowded around me. It didn't even take me five minutes to realize I wasn't fond of crowds. It only took them a few minutes to cross the line and call me by my first name.

Needless to say, I got a reputation in that Kindergarten after one day.

Elementary school wasn't as bad. It didn't take long for individuals to realize I didn't approve of being called by my first name, but I probably had several school records before people realized that. Due to conflicts between my personality and just about everyone else's, I didn't stick close to anyone. Not even a friendship was formed. There was one male that had taken a liking to me though; clicking my tongue lightly in disgust, I remembered I had to kick him in the face to get him to stay away from me. It was a weird thought that he was still with me to this day, he was my second in command.

There were no heart thumping experiences through that section of school.

Middle school had been exactly the same. All that occurred was training. Eventually, I learnt what threats were successful against students and even the teachers. My personal record had to be wiped at one point—it was full of casualty cases. My first real injury had occurred through my first year of middle school. I had been too cocky about my abilities and ended up with a broken wrist. My victims were still in a worse condition—I wouldn't have been surprised if one of them had ended up with internal bleeding. They were in the hospital for a few months after that and whenever I caught sight of them now, they literally scuttled away with their arms flailing slightly. I huffed a little at the thought—it really was that herbivore's own fault that he had obtained the injuries. His stupidity was almost blinding; he had walked around as if he was sitting on top of a pedestal whenever anyone caught sight of him.

Taking control over the disciplinary committee had been easier than taking candy from a mere baby. I'd secured my reign at the top of the school in less than a week and since then, everyone knew my name. It was a strange experience at first, but I eventually got used to it. It was too easy—whoever was the main Prefect before myself was definitely weak and failed to train his subordinates. It was probably due time for me to move up into High School, but I just didn't feel like it. Moving up meant that I had to secure my place at the top again and make sure individuals knew not to approach me. It had taken quite a bit of work and if I was being honest, I didn't feel I had the energy to do that again for at least a year. At the beginning of the year, I had threatened the Principal to keep me enrolled in Namimori Middle School for one more year. It was always fun to see him shiver and simply nod at whatever I requested—he really was like a mindless pup, but I didn't mind that one bit. It was certainly helpful to have someone who was an important symbol to be my minion whenever they caught sight of me.

As I analyzed the memories I could remember again, I inwardly cringed to myself. The only time my heartbeat increased a considerable amount was definitely my first fight. It was just the first real spur of the moment thing, attacking an older kid when all the adrenaline inside of me became unbearable.

Shaking my head again, I pulled my phone out of my pocket. Somewhere through my reminiscing, it had started vibrating. I had completely ignored it, not even considering that it might be important. I huffed slightly when I saw who it was from, it was never a nice experience answering her calls. At least she didn't attempt to keep calling, choosing to leave a voice message instead. I cautiously pressed the call button and then brought the phone up to my ear. I was always wary whenever I was listening to her talk; she had the habit of shrieking at unexpected times.

"Kyouya!" I cringed, but it wasn't inwardly that time. "I'm leaving for work again. I'll be absent for a few months. Hmm, probably around four. I've left you the usual card and an emergency number. Don't get caught by the police! I love y―" The end call button was pressed by my finger within seconds. I didn't want to hear her screech her so called love, it was not necessary.

"Damn Mother," I cursed under my breath.

The phone was returned to its usual place inside my pocket before I started walking again. It was probably a good time to go back to my apartment, the sun had almost completely set. The sky was stained red and orange at that moment, but I couldn't find the desire within me to admire it. I could see it any day I wanted. My pace was quickened when a cold gust of wind came along. I was still dressed in my school uniform—black trousers and a long sleeved white shirt. It wasn't exactly the best attire to wear when it was cold out due to the thin shirt, but I didn't want to take the jacket off my shoulders to wear it properly.

A jacket placed upon shoulders was definitely a new sight to see. It seemed to be a sign of power—only the 'leader' of certain groups would wear it. I remembered seeing someone wear their jacket like this when I was in elementary school, he was the tallest of a group, but he didn't look the roughest. He possessed a clean appearance whilst his subordinates were greasy and overly muscled. It looked like the best type of leader out of all the ones I'd seen—I could clearly see that the subordinates cared a great deal for him even without voicing it out loud.

The jacket hanging on his shoulders had to be a sign of authority.

My thoughts eventually travelled back to what my mother had said over the phone as I turned a corner. She frequently left for business trips which normally lasted for months on end. The longest she had ever been on was seven months. I was absolutely fine without her, but it was always awkward when she finally came back. We weren't close at all and I couldn't exactly threaten my own mother not to call me by my first name. Though, I certainly could threaten my relatives and I did. An uncontrollable shudder went through my body as I thought back to an early memory. I had met my first cousin when I was younger. He was a fool and immediately acted close to me, even having the courage to link his arm through mine. I gave him a broken arm when we were only eight. I hadn't seen him since and I was absolutely fine with that.

When I'd asked my mother why I was never included on her trips away from home, I didn't receive a satisfactory answer. I was curious because she had never offered once and I was absolutely fine with seeing other places. The answer was simply, 'I can trust you to be alone.' Of course, I enjoyed being alone. Everyone did once in a while, but there was a certain amount of my own presence that I could tolerate on a daily basis. My lack of relationships meant that it was constantly just me. It could be classed as lonely, but I didn't have a problem with it. I had a problem with crowds and people being too friendly. It all just seemed faked—they had their reasons for grouping, but most of the time they were for the wrong ones.

I was still thinking about my lack of communication with people when I was abruptly cut short. Something had crashed into me and since I was caught off guard, I couldn't avoid it. A groan escaped from my lips as I felt myself falling backwards. The wind was running through my hair and splashing across my face, alerting me that I was definitely moving and it wasn't some sick hallucination. My determination flared up as I tried not to fall. It was embarrassing enough to have someone crash into me; I wouldn't give them the satisfaction of seeing me pathetically falling. My tactic for stabilizing myself was simple enough, I merely moved my legs back and staggered a bit to attempt to keep my balance. The figure that crashed into me obviously had the same idea as me. The stranger was practically mimicking my movements which made us, unfortunately, unsuccessful. As I moved my foot back, theirs followed. It was like we were dancing, but with flailing limbs added in and it was genuinely ungraceful.

The impact of the crash combined with the weight of the stranger caused pain to shoot up my backside. I could feel that I'd fallen on my tailbone and I didn't like the feeling. I had only hurt it once before when I was younger; it had hurt for a few days to sit down. Not that I showed it—I just kept cringing on the inside. A quiet hiss made its way out of my throat after I acknowledged the pain shooting through me. When I'd fallen backwards, I put my hands behind me to try and lessen the impact of the fall. There were pieces of gravel imbedded into my palms and a few cuts; I would definitely need to clean them thoroughly if I didn't want them to be infected. I didn't trust my spit alone—I wouldn't be able to wield my tonfas correctly if my palms were damaged. It wouldn't be a good situation if I could only kick in fights.

The stranger had definitely landed on top of my body, that was perfectly clear. I could tell that without opening my eyes. I'd closed them when I was preparing myself for when I'd made contact with the hard floor. I could feel my face smashed into something and I guessed it was a chest—the stranger was either a male or an unfortunate female, obviously lacking the essentials. There could possibly be a bruise developing across my nose from how harshly I was pushed into them. There certainly was enough pressure to make me internally wince. Inflicting pain on others was fine and absolutely dandy, but that didn't mean I was accustomed to it when it happened to me. I tended to steer clear of making myself feel pain—it always caught me off guard. From our positioning and the chest that was smashed into my face, I guessed that the stranger's hands were on either side of my body, supporting and keeping them steady. If they were knocked out, they'd probably end up even more on top of me than they already were. I shuddered a little at the thought—I didn't want anyone in my personal bubble.

After adjusting to the pain radiating from my backside and across my face, I snapped my eyes open with the intent of biting whoever crashed into me to death. When my eyes finally adjusted to see what was before me, I growled quietly. The stranger still hadn't moved, staying in the exact same position. It didn't seem like they even attempted to—I couldn't see them move at all. It was like they were paralyzed to the spot and it was making my eye twitch in irritation even more with every second that passed.

A few more seconds passed by before my patience finally snapped. With an audible huff, I leaned my arms backwards to support my weight. I pushed myself out from underneath the paralyzed stranger by scooting back roughly one meter before I was satisfied. I finally gathered my strength to stand up. The stranger finally snapped out of their daze—they mimicked my movements and stood up after a few pained seconds.

When I finally glanced up, I had to blink in bewilderment at the stranger. I had expected a rugged man who appeared to have no respect for anyone, but this was the complete opposite. The stranger had to be a foreigner—his whole appearance was practically screaming that. I wouldn't have been surprised if I saw a name tag on him saying 'I'm not from here'. My ego definitely took a hit as I looked at him. The man was definitely taller than me, probably about three quarters of a head taller. He had tanned skin that was practically glowing, it was still quite a surprise to see tanned skin—I had gotten used to only seeing my own skin properly, which was incredibly pale. His face was defined and had all the required features that could be classed as attractive. I was comfortable enough with my sexuality to admit he was slightly good looking for a male. His mouth was warped into an 'o' shape whilst his brown eyes were impossibly wide and shining. He looked positively shocked at my appearance, but I couldn't hold it against him. He was blonde, with slightly longer hair than my own, which seemed to shine when there wasn't much light about. His attire was plain compared to the rest of his appearance. I was half expecting him to wear something flashy from his appearance, but I was somewhat shocked when I really saw what he was wearing. It was just a simple white long sleeved shirt and a pair of black trousers. I thought I could see a tattoo along the side of his neck, but I quickly kicked the thought out of my mind. There weren't any flashy accessories nor were there any additional pieces of clothing. I couldn't glance down at his shoes without being glaringly obvious. I suspected that the shoes were the whole point of the outfit—I smirked a little when I imagined they might have been outrageous. I definitely should have looked at them first, after all shoes are one of the most important factors of judging someone; that and their teeth.

The seconds ticked by as I was staring at his face, waiting for him to speak or at least apologize before I could cause him pain. My eyebrow arched itself up when I noticed his mouth was still hanging open, it was like he couldn't believe what was before him.

I almost slammed my palm into my face after I'd pieced together the situation. I knew he was a foreigner; that had to be his problem. This male had to be in a completely different country than his own and had just crashed into a brooding teenager. He'd probably be scared out of his wits—who wouldn't when they'd crashed into someone who looked dangerous. That's why his mouth was probably hanging open, most likely in disbelief and fear. He'd probably only recently learnt the language too, that's why he wasn't able to speak it in these sorts of situations.

"Just watch where you're going or I'll―" Bite you to death. I stopped myself from announcing my threat at the last minute. The man was already scared and if I threatened him, even a little bit by accident, he'd probably become traumatized from this situation. Usually, I'd smirk and continue on to threaten him, but I felt pity for him for some odd reason. His face was still in the same position as before and I swore I could see a fly go into his mouth. If I was in his situation, I'd definitely be wary of a rough teenager.

Leaving was the best option. I did just that after I'd looked at him for a few more awkward seconds. I didn't want to get caught up with him, even if I did feel some pity for him. It wasn't my fault we'd ended up in that situation; therefore I didn't need to take responsibility. I'd taken around five steps before I felt a tug through my jacket, eventually reaching onto my shirt. Immediately, my hands reached into the pockets within my jacket and produced a pair of tonfas. I turned around quickly, ready to traumatize whoever had entered my personal bubble without permission. I never gave anyone permission. When I did turn around, I didn't expect what happened next. My face smashed into his chest again and I let a hiss make its way out of my throat at the pain. It was getting incredibly annoying—this man kept bugging me and inflicting pain without realizing it. I was surprised at our lack of distance, but I didn't let it show on my face. I didn't want to give him an opening to see me weak, even if I would never see him again.

When I looked up to see his face, I blinked again in bewilderment. The foreigner was smiling down at me brightly—as if I hadn't almost threatened him less than a minute ago—and was extending a piece of paper towards me. I eyed him warily for a few moments before mentally shrugging. The piece of paper simply had a name written upon it and I did recognize the name; it was Tsunayoshi Sawada's. He was a student at Namimori Middle School and had recently been creating a few problems with his followers. That herbivore never used to crowd with others. I narrowed my eyes a little at the name, remembering the screams his group caused the other day. It was annoying having to frequently silence them. I didn't have a relationship of any sorts with Sawada, but I knew where his house was due to the school records. It made me feel slightly disturbed that I could remember it—my memory really was something to be feared. I stashed my tonfas away before I realized something. I still felt pity towards the blonde, but that didn't justify the actions I took.

My actions were odd. I tapped him lightly on the shoulder before continuing on to point down the street. I had initially done that to show him the direction of Sawada's house, but something inside me practically pushed me to walk in the direction I had pointed. I was surprised on the inside at my own actions—I never helped anyone. I could hear heavy footsteps behind me and assumed that the blonde had caught up with me. My guess was right. After a few seconds, he matched his footsteps to mine and was walking silently beside me. I wouldn't lie and say it wasn't the least bit awkward. It was incredibly awkward—I could feel him sneaking glances at my face frequently. The oddest thing happened; I could feel my skin prickling where his gaze was lingering. I shuddered internally at the feeling; the experience was completely new. The blonde was probably wary of whether I was actually helping him or not. I wasn't about to whip out a knife and mug him; that wasn't my style.

I ignored his presence and carried on walking in the direction of Sawada's house. We passed various streets with him still glancing at me whilst I was just staring ahead. I refused to look at him—I would have probably pity him more or punch him in the face for looking at me. It only took at least five minutes until we reached Sawada's street. His house was within view, and I could clearly see as we were getting closer that Sawada himself had come running out. His brown hair was moving in the wild and was hitting him in the face a couple of times. His eyes were wide whilst his mouth was stretched into a large grin. I could tell he hadn't noticed me yet—I didn't exactly want him to. I didn't want anyone to know that I had helped a complete stranger. Sawada's eyes were only on the blonde and I took that as my cue to leave. Turning around quickly, I briskly started walking back the way I came.

"Hibari-san?" Sawada let out a strangled cry.

It was the usual response I got whenever someone noticed me, but it occurred despite whether I glared at them or not. It was always the same response—fear. I didn't mind it one bit, but Sawada's reactions were always over the top. He'd either shout in a high pitched voice or flail his limbs. His reaction made me think though. The foreigner hadn't had the same reaction as Sawada. He was only slightly scared of me, but he didn't recoil from my presence like I was a fatal disease. I had probably helped him because I was curious about him, but walking him here didn't answer any of my questions. I concluded he was probably a naïve man. Very naïve.

To answer Sawada, I simply looked over my shoulder at him. His expression changed to terrified in less than a second. It was actually quite comical—it seemed that just looking at me made him tremble. I sighed internally before I snapped my head back to its original position. I started to walk back in the direction I came from when I felt another tug through my jacket, latching onto my shirt in exactly the same place. If it's that foreigner again, I swear I'm going to make him bleed. I turned around quickly, ready to punch him. He was intruding my bubble again and I was getting more agitated as the seconds in his presence passed. I knew my eye was twitching like crazy, but I opened my mouth to leak out profanities.

Words never escaped from my mouth. Before I could even suck in a surprised gasp, I felt lips crushed onto my own. I froze at the feeling of his lips—I'd never kissed anyone before and I certainly hadn't shown any indication that I wanted to kiss him. I definitely didn't want to; I wasn't homosexual. He took advantage of my open mouth and slipped his tongue inside. If I didn't have awful reactions at that point, I would have slammed my teeth down on his tongue and made him bleed. I was too busy being frozen in shock. My shock increased when I felt his tongue roughly rub against my own and then entangle itself. He carried on delving into my mouth and stroking my tongue in an urgent manner. I didn't make any move to start kissing him back—instead, I was feeling disgusted and frozen from the general shock. I could feel a moan building at the back of my throat at the new sensation, but I quickly fought it back.

I was gasping for air before my mind could fully piece together what had happened. I clumsily put my hands on his chest and used all of the strength I could muster up to shove him back. I wanted him to get away from me at that moment in time. I saw surprise flicker across his face—his expression seemed as though he was desperate for more. I swore I could see a pang of sadness in his eyes too. A quiet growl ripped its way out of my throat when I realized he thought I wouldn't put up a fight. He really had thought that I'd put up with being assaulted by a stranger. The sudden movement from him and then the fact that he was still in my personal bubble had me fuming. I had never given him permission or the slightest nod of approval to come near me. He hadn't even said one word to me—but he was quick to make advances.

I clenched my right hand into a fist. I really wanted it to make contact with his jaw and make him feel pain. I wanted to slam my fist into his face over and over until he was coughing up blood. I was disappointed when he noticed the glare on my face and the fist. He probably quickly pieced together the two and then realized what I was going to do.

The chance to punch his face and make a nice indent never came—with ease; he grasped both of my wrists in one hand and held them together. I was fuming even more at that point—I'd never had anyone restrain me before. It definitely wasn't a nice experience. My frowned deepened as I attempted to struggle out of his hold. I didn't know where all my strength had gone at that moment. Normally, I'd be able to get out of his hands. I was too preoccupied with trying to struggle out of his hold that I didn't realize his face had moved in dangerously close to my face. I saw him continue moving until his mouth was only a few centimetres away from my ear.

"Thank you for guiding me here," he whispered. I could feel his warm breath assaulting my skin; I never had anyone this close to me without physically hurting them. I hated every second of it, but I was still being held. I jumped slightly, just enough to humiliate me, when I felt his teeth lightly skim over my earlobe, barely touching, but this subtle action created new sensation. I definitely didn't like it and I didn't approve of how my body was reacting. It seemed to be enjoying what he was doing to me. The blonde leaned closer to my ear and gently took my earlobe into his mouth. My skin felt warm at that moment, too warm to be comfortable. I felt my breathing hitch at that. What the fuck is he doing? My question was answered when I felt him nibble on the skin lightly. My breathing was definitely audible as he continued. He finally released my earlobe from his mouth and when I thought he would move away, he gave my ear a slow lick. I flinched in disgust at the action, which caused him to move again.

The new sensations were too much for me. Before I could fully comprehend what the hell he'd done to me, I realized that my heartbeat had increased. My breathing was slightly ragged too. I could feel my vision become slightly blurry and I hoped that it was in anger. It could've just been a mixture of two things though; humiliation that I'd let a stranger take the upper hand or simply anger.

After I realized what exactly this man had done to me, anger took over all my senses. I could feel my face twist into a harsh glare and a snarl coming out of my throat. I definitely needed to inflict pain on him. The foreigner released my wrists with a low chuckle. His eyes were shining, almost twinkling, with glee. My thoughts left me at that moment. I knew more than anything that at that moment I wanted to take my revenge. I wanted to beat that man black and blue. I wanted to cause him enough injuries that he had to go into intensive care. I wanted to drag out his pain and make it come at the time he didn't expect. His expression was expectant and upon noticing that, I devised a plan.

I closed my eyes and took in a deep breath. My breathing had finally returned to normal at that point in time and I couldn't have been more grateful. It was a horrible feeling having to take in ragged breaths that anyone could hear. When I glanced up at the blonde, his face completely changed in less than a second—his expression went from expectant to astonishment. I took his surprise as my cue to finally take my revenge. I slammed my awaiting fist into the man's stomach with all the strength I could muster up at that moment. I smirked when I heard his pain and felt his breath splash across my face. I had successfully knocked the air out of him and hopefully his smug expression too. The blonde stumbled a step back, clutching his stomach whilst making a pained expression. There was definitely surprise splashed across it—he really was insane to think I wouldn't give him a few bruises.

I roughly grabbed a fistful of his hair and pulled his face towards mine.

"I'll bite you to death next time, Herbivore," I hissed into his ear.

At that moment, I remembered what he had done do me earlier. I mimicked his actions from before and leaned in dangerously close to his ear. I let my breath assault his skin whilst he waited for my next movement. Before he had time to react, I bit down onto his cartilage hard enough to draw blood. I was beyond satisfied when I felt the copper liquid instantly flow out. Some started dribbling down my chin from my action, so I awkwardly wiped it away. The blonde produced a painful growl and I was satisfied with my revenge for now—it was good enough to let me plan my actions for later. I took my hand out of his hair and turned away.

I proceeded to walk away like nothing had ever happened. Like I'd unintentionally walked down this street delaying my trip back to my apartment.

"Dino, are you okay? Why'd you have to do that?" I heard Sawada panic.

The only reply I could make out from the distance between us was a subtle whistle.

Dino, huh? I shook my head quickly and started to walk back to my apartment. I would try to forget about today.

In my chest, my heart was pounding. It was beating more than after a marathon. It felt almost as if it was fluttering. It was a new, unwelcome sensation.