Apologies for the late update!

Chapter 4

Her

She thought crying was going to exempt her from her misfortunes and a nice person would come along and give her some change, but no one came. Her eyes were puffy and shrivelled, and three buses had driven passed without stopping. Three hours had been wasted on blubbering tears; the lights that brightened the entrance of Namimori U would disappear any second now, before the library shooed its last few students out.

Kurara wiped her tear ducts one last time and then made an effort to stand up. She would have to go back to the university to retrieve her stuff; her parents weren't around to baby her this time. If she was going to start becoming an independent 21 year old, now would be a good time to start. She made her way back to the campus.

Luckily there were still students loitering around so she was less afraid than if she were alone. The main building was relatively easy to find, and once she'd hurried up the stairs and grabbed her belongings, she locked the doors and left in a rush. Unfortunately by the time she was outside, all the remaining students had disappeared and the hazy light that once shone from the direction of the library was now gone. She tried retracing her steps, but it was impossibly dark and the beam from her phone was not helping. Kurara decided to take a guess and headed an eastwardly direction, but the longer she walked the more lost she became.

After a while, she ended up outside the building with the square windows spread across its walls. She recognised it as part of Humanities and Sociology; it was the same building she had seen earlier during the day with Dino. It was strange, she could see a light blaring out the upmost window, and now that she had seen it, Kurara was caught between doing her job and going up to investigate (janitors were usually blamed if a door was left unlocked) or walk away like she had no idea.

"Kura, dear, remember to always do the right thing."

She was not quite sure where that came from – most likely from her parents and their words of wisdom plagiarised off Confucius– but now she felt completely obliged to go inside the dark, foreboding building and go up maybe six or seven files of stairs alone. Kurara manned up, puffed her chest out and marched forward.

Good thing the stairs were steep, so the effort of climbing to the top kept her mind off more eerie things. By the time she reached the corridor of the topmost floor, she'd run out of breath and was ready to pass out. There was light seeping from underneath the very last door, and the faintest sound of…a guitar? Kurara's heart gave a loud thump. She quietly shuffled passed the other rooms and pressed her ear against the wall. It was definitely the playing of a pro, and the fast strumming and flawless plucking suggested this could be the one, this could be Mori, but did she dare move closer and peek inside the keyhole? Well why else did she come here for? Of course she was going to find out.

Kurara got on her knees and tried to see through the gap. No luck. She got up and squinted through the keyhole, but all she could make out was a chair in the middle of a white room. She tried moving left and right, the soles of her shoes made a loud squeak from the friction against the floor. The playing suddenly stopped, and then she heard footsteps coming her way from inside the room. She was so fucked.

She ducked down and kept quiet. The door swung open and a blast of light shot out, she saw a foot emerge from inside but was too afraid to look up. The figure turned on his heel, and Kurara immediately knew he was looking down at her. If Mori was the cool guy she thought he was, he would probably hate her for finding out, but if he wasn't and was a sweetheart instead, then consider herself lucky. Neither of them said a word, so Kurara decided to side-glance at the mystery person who was standing beside her, and she couldn't believe it.

"No, can't be!" she squeaked, jumping to her feet.

Hibari's aghast eyes were staring straight at her. He was wearing Mori's signature V-neck sweater and jeans, and he had THE white Ibanez guitar clutched in his right hand. She was dreaming wasn't she? This couldn't be happening, this couldn't be true! Kurara had barely been inside the school for more than 12 hours and she had already (out of sheer luck) discovered Mori's identity, and of all people it was the Dean of the Faculty of Humanities and Sociology. The Dean? The one with a doctorate? A discipline leader? An educational practitioner playing punk music? Even if he was young, she would have never guessed he was the guitar prodigy she had been longing to meet.

Kurara didn't dare say a word. She was afraid Hibari's expression would twist into the same frightful look as the one Mukuro gave her, if that happened she would quit her job the day after. But Hibari didn't make a move, it was almost as if the shock of Kurara finding out his secret was too much for him. He didn't seem like that kind of person though. By the sweat across his brow she could tell he had already been playing for hours.

"You…" Kurara jumped at the sound of his animalistic growl. He looked as if he was about to murder her.

"I-I won't tell anyone, I swear!" she felt very small with his tall self towering over her. Kurara could have sworn his hand was twitching to slam his guitar into her face.

Hibari did not look convinced. As an ex-psychologist, he knew very well the nature of the female species – gossip was etched on their forehead, and how did he know she wasn't one of those rabid fan girls. Actually, he was probably right, it was blatantly obvious she was a fan girl. He could kill her, right here, right now, and everything would be okay, but soiling his hands for this mangy looking janitor with outrageous hair just didn't seem worth it. She was, he remembered, the same annoying girl that was staring at her the entire time on the train home. She was also the same girl that was standing beside the number one man he hated.

So if he couldn't kill her, what could he do? He could threaten her and get one of his subordinates to tail her, but if she told someone the damage would have been done already so there'd be no point in beating her up afterwards. He thought about it quickly, and figured he could bribe her AND threaten her then his control over Kurara's big mouth would double. There was also the option of seducing her, but he would rather kill himself that resort to that pathetic pineapple head's strategies. All this felt strangely familiar to him.

"A-A-Are you going to hit me?" Kurara stammered, now pressed against the wall with a terrified expression.

"No," Hibari started, shooting a deathly glare. "I'm offering you a compromise, one favour to shut you up for good."

"A favour?"

"…" He wasn't going to answer that.

"Anything? Like, slave for a year?"

His glare intensified, which meant no.

Kurara gulped, she was being put on the spot. He clearly wanted her to decide on something beneficial for herself but at the same time, had nothing to do with him. The look in his eyes was urging her to hurry up or else. Then, she had an idea, a good one at that. "W-Will you let me watch you play? Or at least listen to you whenever I…want?"

Hibari opened his mouth to protest, but suddenly stopped. "What?"

"I like your music. I-I'm a fan, so I promise I won't tell anyone."

It was déjàvu.

Everything was happening all over again, his past returned to haunt his present. He remembered the first time someone had asked for the exact same thing, but yet, why again? Flashbacks of a boyish girl with dark hair came hurdling at him. Pictures of her leaning against the window, watching him pluck on his old Gibson in the high school music room. Her sweet smile as she said to him:

"Will you let me watch you play? Or at least listen to you whenever I…want?"

Kurara uttered the same words, and it took him by surprise. He remembered it. He remembered her - the reason he was a sensation on the internet, that girl that brought him and that vile Italian together. He felt nauseated even thinking about it, his painful past that was incised into him like a tattoo. Was it happening again? Was she back? What did she want? Hibari had no clue, and he continued to stare blankly at Kurara who was now starting to resemble her. His eyes softened for a second, just to reminisce. Yes, Kurara resembled her, without that stupid peach hair she looked just like her. He dropped his Ibanez.

Kurara saw it slip from his hands. She dove in and caught it in her arms, hitting her head against the side of the door. The guitar was safe, the precious Ibanez RG350DX that made the music she was addicted to. What had happened to its owner, though? Why was he frozen stiff?

"Hibari-san, are you alright?" she asked, getting to her feet and waving her free hand in front of his face. She tried clapping her hands a few times, but he was unresponsive. "I'm sorry, forget everything, just keeping posting your music and I won't say a word. I'm serious."

Hibari snapped out of it. He snatched his Ibanez back and said in a low growl, "No, I'll let you listen, but only once a week and you sit outside while I play. I don't want any distractions." They were the same conditions he demanded several years ago. Hibari wasn't sure if he was deliberately trying to relive his past or not. He eyed Kurara guardedly, he wanted to believe she was her reincarnation or something similar.

"Okay," she replied obediently.

It was just like her.

"One word and I'll bite you to death."

"Yes."

The words were exactly the same.

"Now get lost."

"Wait, since I get to hear you play once a week, I want it to be the days you record for MyTube. Can I?"

This was the only difference.

"You're pushing it." Hibari glared at her, but then sighed. "Why? You can listen to those any time."

"Because the videos on your channel are the ones that inspire me, I want to witness it live, I want to know where your enthusiasm comes from." Hibari was flinching at her corny speech, but the honest glint in her eyes told him every word was the truth. He couldn't figure her out, in fact, he couldn't figure anyone that watched his videos out, what was he doing that drove their obsession? Pheromones possibly, or maybe it was her doing, but she was dead.

"Do whatever you want."

Kurara thanked him, and promised one last time she wouldn't utter a single word to anyone about his identity. By the time she found her way out of the school, caught a taxi and reached home, it was way past midnight and the lights were completely off. Her spirits were high, she felt bewildered and in a daze. It was a miracle, her first day and she had already found the guitar prodigy, let alone gotten his permission to listen to him play live. What good deeds could she have possibly done to deserve this? She wanted to worship and thank her old colleague for letting her know Mori was in Namimori University. She believed her life could not get any better.

Her flat was empty except for a short table, mattress and a few unpacked boxes lying around. On the table was a tray of food and a yellow note addressed to her.

Kura-chan, I hope you don't mind I made something for you.

You probably haven't had time to go grocery shopping. Eat well and sleep lots!

-Nana

…...

…...

...

Hibari was at home, his hair damp from having taken a shower. He sank in his couch and wiped the trickling water from his forehead with his towel. He frowned, and stared at his guitar across the room. She was coming back, wasn't she?

"She even sounds like her."