I'm sick. I hate being sick. If there's anything worse than having writer's block it's having writer's block and a cold. Well anyway, on with the fic.

Paring - 692718 (MukuroTsunaHibari) ish or just 1827 or maybe 6918. I really don't know about this one.

Prompt - Illusion within an illusion.

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Hibari watches the clouds roll in on the colorless world. Grey, dark, and getting darker still. Soon the sky will fall, disappear, burn away into nothing, so for now he gazes up for as long as he can, trying to hold on to a memory of a smile and a nervous laugh and the heated flame of the sunset. The bed springs press painfully into his black clothed side but he just lays there for he is tired, so so tired.

He never thought it would be this hard, never thought he would ever regret anything. Yet now his mind swirls with foreign emotion and a wish that maybe he could have done something had he not been thousands of miles away when it had happened. It feels like a dream, an illusion, like he's going to wake up at any second to find himself shivering from a wild nightmare.

The dark sheets are pulled closer to him and;

He fades.

-

Hibari open his eyes to an endless azure sky dotted with down feather clouds. A shimmering golden sphere casts heat onto his arms and he lays there in the green grass that sways gently to this worlds unnatural breeze.

"Hello, Hibari Kyoya."

His eyes narrow and in a flash he is up, ready to attack, ready to kill. Yet he can't move, like being trapped in icy iron shackles.

"No, no, no. That won't do now will it?" Mukuro chuckles, his mismatched eyes twinkling.

"You can't fight here." He says to Hibari's dark glare and with a quick snap of black gloved fingers Hibari is free to kneel on the damp brown earth.

"Now, come join me for tea." and Mukuro sits at a cold white glass table that Hibari is sure never existed before that moment.

"Why should I have to listen to you, you're just an illusion." With his eyes Hibari rips and tears the other man apart but he won't attack and let himself be pulled into another trap.

"An illusion? Well, I suppose, but no more than yourself. We are not the true illusions I'll have you know."

Hibari sits across from the illusionist and sips at the steaming tea that will never give the satisfaction of a burn no matter how hot it gets and to his annoyance he can't find anything wrong with it.

"What do you mean."

Mukuro looks up wistfully towards the soaring sapphire seas.

"It is the world it's self that is the illusion we create. Reality is what we make it out to be, we make our own happiness and sadness."

"What are you saying, speak clearly or I'll bite you to death."

"I'm saying that we can change the world."

Mukuro picks up the scalding silver ketel.

"Would you like more tea?"

-

And Hibari wakes up with the wild idea that he can rewrite the past.