Title: Kogarashi

Requested by: Nuvola De Demone

Pairings: 10thGenx27

Warnings: Possible OOCness, historical!AU, possible historical inaccuracies, everyone's TYL, blood, violence

Additional Notes: Any resemblance to other people is purely coincidental. Some creative liberties were taken for the sake of the story, which is mostly centered on fictional cities during the time period. Lambo will be referred to as Hideo in this since I didn't like how off his name sounded in this setting.

Prompt: "An Ancient Japan setting"

Kogarashi – the withering wind that comes at the start of winter and blows the last leaves off the trees

May 5, 1531: Namimori, Japan: Hibari Household

"Welcome back, Hibari-sama."

Kyoya merely brushed past his adviser without giving the other man a glance. Easily shedding off his bloody armor and paddings, he dropped them unceremoniously to the ground. Hayato sighed behind him, but Kyoya didn't pay him any mind.

"I already sent word to Kusakabe-san," Hayato said. "He will be here shortly, Hibari-sama."

Kyoya checked the wounds Mukuro gave him in one of their many skirmishes earlier that day. They were shallow, but were dangerously close to some essential organs. He clicked his tongue before shedding the top of his light robe to assess his more of his torso. Some parts were already bandaged from prior battles, but blood had already seeped through the white fabric, staining them red.

His enemy was just as skilled as he was with the blade, but Kyoya had made sure to slice more than skin and muscle on the man's body before Mukuro had skillfully retreated with his men, the same mocking smile etched on his bloody lips.

It drove Kyoya nearly insane how he hadn't killed him yet.

Still, this skirmish was longer than the others. The body count was higher than usual and only a third of his men managed to come back home with him. Kyoya didn't say a word to them or acknowledged their groans of pain—he only rode ahead to deal with his furious thoughts alone and avoid any unnecessary chatter. They knew how to take care of themselves; there was no need in pampering them.

Hayato was quiet while Kyoya assessed his injuries. His adviser was smart enough to leave him to his thoughts, which was the only reason he kept the man by his side for so long. Others would've thought it was admirable (or suicidal) for anyone to stand Kyoya's temperament, but Kyoya saw it as an inconvenience. Hayato was only an herbivore after all.

"Rokudo escaped again," Hayato said blandly.

Kyoya just clicked his tongue irritably. "Don't speak."

Hayato continued without missing a beat. The man was already used to Kyoya's short temper, but still persisted anyways. "I advised you many times to attack him from behind. He never guards his backlines."

Kyoya glared at him, but Hayato looked unfazed. "Remember your place, herbivore."

"I am your adviser, Hibari-sama. I am supposed to be counseling you."

Kyoya unsheathed his sword and pointed it dangerously close to Hayato's neck. The blade pressed lightly onto the man's jugular vein.

"I will not repeat myself."

Hayato pursed his lips and didn't continue any further. His face was paler than usual. A knock came from the door.

"Hibari-sama, Kusakabe-san is here," one of the servants announced.

"Allow him in," Hayato said tightly.

The door slid open and the physician gracefully walked inside with a bow. His hair was wild as always, as if he ran all the way here; however, his appearance was still clean-cut and neat. Nothing was out of place.

He merely raised a brow at the display he saw, but did not falter in his step.

"Hibari-sama," he said calmly, carrying his usual kit, "please sit."

Kyoya clicked his tongue like he didn't want to be reminded of his wounds before sheathing his sword and sitting down with as much grace he could muster. Kusakabe knelt by his side and gently poked and prodded his bruised skin with cool fingers. If it were anyone else, Kyoya would have lashed out, but Kusakabe had been with him as long as he could remember. He was still an herbivore though, just like the rest of them.

"I will have to clean your wounds," Kusakabe said, his voice toneless. "You sustained more injuries than usual today."

Kyoya scowled. "Just fulfill your duty and leave."

Wordlessly, the physician unwrapped his old bandages and started to clean his injuries, careful not to agitate the shallow cuts. The tension in Kyoya's body didn't disappear even after Kusakabe finished redressing his old and new wounds. There was a hush of silence that neither of the men disturbed. Other than the strain of fabric and the chirping of birds outside, no one spoke.

Finally, Kusakabe started to pack his kit, his face perfectly blank while he spoke.

"I recommend that you don't move around too much, Hibari-sama," he said, despite knowing that his words would fall on deaf ears. "Your wounds are more extensive this time and you will bleed out if you agitate them. Perhaps, consider not going out to battle for the next few weeks. Preferably for the rest of the year."

Hibari tugged his bloody robe over his strong shoulders and was already standing before Kusakabe stopped speaking. "Leave."

Kusakabe let out a small breath that almost resembled a sigh before composing himself and standing. He bowed. "Please be more careful, Hibari-sama. I'd prefer not to see your corpse the next time we meet."

Kyoya just grunted lightly, lightly brushing his fingers over the firm bandages. Scowling again, he imagined digging his blade into Mukuro's stomach, twisting and pulling hard enough to spill his filthy guts onto the floor.

Next time, he thought, will be his last.

However, a small part of him knew that it wouldn't be, but it was only slightly comforting to think that way. It was how he managed to sleep at night.

"Hibari-sama," Hayato said, making his irritating presence known again, "you should get ready to go to Yamamoto-san's home soon."

Kyoya pursed his lips. "I am not going."

Hayato continued to speak dryly as if Kyoya didn't say anything. "Your bath is ready and your kimono has already been prepared. I would recommend that you don't upset Yamamoto-san and Sasagawa-san like last time, Hibari-sama."

A surge of irascibility swelled in Kyoya's chest, but he managed to keep it at bay by taking in a deep breath. Takeshi and Ryohei were powerful daimyos like him in Namimori and were the only clan heads to alliance with his clan, which ruled the city. Their coalition fended off other warlords who struggled to take whatever land they could for their own control. He found it trivial and ultimately dismissed the strong contention that ran through the nation despite Hayato's warnings of doing so.

It took only one battle for the other daimyos to back off Namimori, making it completely untouchable and undesirable. Kyoya had already staked his claim and it was within his right to bare his teeth when anyone challenged him.

If only that fool, Mukuro, got the message.

Even though Hayato had told him that Mukuro was uninterested in claiming Namimori—the man already ruled Kokuyo and was content with his position—Kyoya didn't care. Anyone who dared to step a foot on his territory will be bitten to death and thrown away to rot.

Hayato looked at him expectantly and Kyoya had no choice but to leave his room for the bathhouse. If Mukuro was irritating, Takeshi and Ryohei were infuriating if he didn't get together with them when they asked. It was trivial and a waste of his time.

"I will leave within the hour," he said tersely.

Hayato bowed. "Yes, Hibari-sama."

Yamamoto Household

Once Kyoya made his presence known on Takeshi's compound, he was led directly to a large room where the party was being held. Almost instantly, Takeshi himself had slid the door open as if he had expected Kyoya's arrival. The large, easy grin on his face was enough to worsen Kyoya's mood even more. The room's loud chatter, music, and bright lights made Kyoya feel a little nauseous and more than annoyed to just bite everyone to death.

"Hibari," Takeshi said brightly, oblivious to the other man's mood, "come in! You're just in time!"

The drunken laughter from Ryohei and several other men in the room proved otherwise. Kyoya pursed his lips, his hand already tightening around the hilt of his katana. His cold gray eyes glinted dangerously, but the ache of his wounds was just enough to keep him at bay—somewhat.

"We were waiting for you," Takeshi continued happily, leading him inside. "Come, we have a lot of food prepared."

Kyoya grudgingly followed him. Behind, the door slid shut. The floor was warm against his feet. His nose slightly crinkled in distaste from the strong smell of alcohol. Meat and various kinds of dishes were arranged on the long table. Some men seemed to sober up once they saw him, but he didn't offer them any acknowledgement. It was natural for herbivores to cower under the presence of a carnivore; however, he wasn't in much of a mood to hunt tonight.

A few courtesans danced in the middle of the room, their colorful kimono and fans swaying to the beat of the drum. They faltered slightly in their steps when they saw Kyoya but he just sat down next to Takeshi gracefully without a word. Normally, he would've beat anyone in such an indecent profession but he was too tired tonight. The herbivores were lucky tonight.

He looked anywhere but the people in the room. Distancing himself would be much less of a problem if he was alone and away from the crowding, but he stayed put. Takeshi and Ryohei were more insufferable if he avoided any more of their "get-togethers".

"Oh, Hibari!" Ryohei said, finally taking notice of him. "You came! How are you?"

Kyoya sipped a cup of tea already laid out for him, his nerves slowly relaxing from the calming drink. He supposed that Takeshi had good tea. The other man had always been a good host, just like his late father, and got along well with anyone he met. Kyoya only agreed to their alliance because their fathers had been comrades on the battlefront and he respected Takeshi's swordsmanship. If Kyoya was less proud, he'd admit that Takeshi wielded the blade better than he did.

It was a pity that he only saw him use it once, when they had clashed briefly in Kyoya's younger days, the time when war had loomed in the horizon and men were dropping to the ground like heavy rain. Takeshi had thrown him off then, his easy grin turning sharper like the sword he held and his friendly eyes narrowing in monstrous concentration.

And just like that, as soon as they had collided, metal against metal, Takeshi pulled away and laughed breathlessly while sheathing his katana, a sign of surrender. Kyoya found it mocking and foolish but only stood still from the nasty gash on his side and reeling from the conflicting nature the man showed.

He had finally deemed Takeshi an herbivore when he later bared his throat and submitted to the Hibari Clan's rule.

"Sasagawa-sama," a soft voice said, "would you like some more sake?"

Kyoya turned his head imperceptibly to see a flash of brown and blue. His hand still cradled the small cup of tea in his palm, the slight heat radiating through the thick ceramic.

"Ah, Sora, you know how to serve extremely well," Ryohei said, reaching out his own empty cup. "I'm still skeptical how this is your first time at a large gathering."

Takeshi laughed. "Sasagawa-dono, you drank too much already. Why don't you drink some tea instead?"

"No sake is too much on such a joyous occasion, Yamamoto-sama," the newcomer said easily, as if the answer was just on the tip of his tongue waiting for the right moment to be spoken.

Ryohei roared into laughter, forcing Kyoya to pick up his own cup form being spilled over with a scowl when the older man slapped the long table with a strong fist.

"Takeshi," Ryohei said, "where did you find him? He's a riot!" He grinned at the smaller young man. "I like you, Sora!"

"Ah, you are too kind, Sasagawa-sama." The figure was approaching Kyoya now. He didn't realize that his body was too tense until the faint smell of camellia gently tickled his nose. His eyes looked up but the young man still had his gaze on Ryohei. The slender neck was exposed too easily, the man's loose kimono cascading down pale shoulders. "Please enjoy their dance as well. They are far more talented than I am. They've been practicing for weeks."

So, this get-together had been planned months beforehand. If Kyoya was a better person, he would've been flattered. But he wasn't and this whole event was a waste of time. He'd rather be

"You are too modest, Sora," Yamamoto said with a chuckle.

"As I should be, Yamamoto-sama."

The young man finally looked at Kyoya, but it was only for a brief moment, a slip on the other's part, before he lowered his eyes almost immediately. His long lashes fluttered against smooth skin and Kyoya had seen his brown eyes. They were deeply warm and kind and meek. This man embodied the definition of an herbivore almost too perfectly. And it irritated Kyoya.

"Would you like some sake, Hibari-sama?" the other's gentle voice said.

Kyoya merely gave him a cursory glance from the corner of his eye before sipping more of his tea. A rude, wordless dismissal if anything, and yet, the man just smiled lightly before moving onto Takeshi.

Even when the party was over and dawn approached shyly in the horizon, Kyoya and Sora were the only ones awake amongst the strewn men and courtesans. Ryohei had passed out on the table, his kimono pulled away to reveal a toned chest and stomach. Takeshi wasn't any better and had tried countless times to tug something down to cuddle with, which happened to be Kyoya.

He vaguely wondered why he hadn't left yet, but Sora didn't say a word about his presence. The young man quietly helped the courtesans into better positions on the floor, mindful of the men around them. His feet were silent against the mat and he walked with a surprisingly elegant pace. Kyoya kicked Takeshi's groping hand away for the umpteenth time before he stood up. Walking none-too-carefully around the sleeping men, he slid the door open to leave.

A quiet, hushed voice spoke behind him, making him pause.

"Travel safely, Hibari-sama. Ah, and happy birthday."

Kyoya didn't need to look at the young man's face to see that he was smiling. A small tingle crawled unpleasantly up his stiff spine. The only response he gave was a small huff of breath through his nose.

And just like that, he left, sliding the door quietly behind him.

May 13, 1531: Namimori, Japan: Hibari Household

The birthday celebration was nothing but a fleeting memory in Kyoya's mind. There were other things to worry about, like finally killing Mukuro. His generals and advisers were assembled in the meeting room, but he paid no heed to what they were saying. He only ran these meetings to make the herbivores stop complaining about being useless to the Hibari name.

Hayato stood dutifully by his side, his face scrunched up in deep thought as everyone assessed the large map that detailed the domains between Namimori and Kokuyo. Kyoya just closed his eyes and sipped his tea quietly, drowning out their loud voices. His mind had finally achieved a temporary state of peace until someone said, "Well, of course! I have used this maneuver once when I went against Hitsuji and his men in Midori. His men stood no chance against us."

"And how did you even think of such a strategy?"

Kyoya opened his eyes then at the peculiar intonation of Hayato's voice. There was an undercurrent of curiosity and bewilderment in his tone that drew Kyoya's attention.

One of the generals—Watanabe—smiled a little sheepishly. "Ah, well, I did not, Gokudera-san."

The other generals just glanced at each other dubiously. Hayato merely quirked a brow in question and waited for the buff man to continue.

"There is a young man I know—he is quite brilliant really—who had advised me about the tactic. I am sure you know him, Hibari-sama. I heard that he made an appearance at Yamamoto-sama's abode a few weeks ago."

Kyoya turned his gaze to Watanabe, who immediately tensed and bowed his head to look at anywhere else but his cold eyes. "I do not."

"Who is the young man, Watanabe-san?" Hayato said, filling in the uneasy silence.

"Ah, well, he is a taikomochi. His name is Sora."

Another bout of silence fell upon the room.

"You took counsel from a prostitute?" one general finally said, but there was more skepticism in his scratchy voice rather than disgust.

Watanabe rolled his eyes. "Must you be reminded what a taikomochi is, Yoshida? He is not a prostitute, simply a male courtesan. I've seen you with some occasionally so don't think about it too much."

Yoshida had the decency to keep his mouth shut after that.

"It is not unusual to get counsel from a taikomochi," another general said carefully. "But I will be honest—I didn't expect for you to listen to anyone else other than your own blabbering, Watanabe."

Stifled chuckles echoed in the room. Kyoya didn't pay them any mind. The nervous thrum that tingled in his body didn't deter the strange feeling that itched in his chest. Why he suddenly remembered brown eyes and a slender neck was beyond him—and it irked him. He abruptly stood up and left, silently dismissing the meeting with his parting.

Hayato caught up with him in his small garden later, his brows furrowed and lips thin. Still, Kyoya didn't give him any acknowledgement as he silently fed the birds from his hand. Such fragile, innocent creatures. Their wings were powerful, giving them the gift of flight, and yet their brittle bones were easy to crush with one hand.

"Hibari-sama, y—"

"Find the herbivore."

Hayato blinked. His confusion was apparent from the frown on his lips and the creasing of his brow. "Find who, Hibari-sama?"

Kyoya didn't know why he ordered it. Perhaps it was the idleness the past week or so and being fiercely isolated from battle by a much firmer Kusakabe. He clicked his tongue. Nonetheless, there was a nagging tug at the back of his head and it seemed that he'd have to meet Sora to quell the feeling.

He refused to say that it was because he was bewitched by those herbivorous brown eyes.

Namimori, Japan: Sumire District

Hayato never knew a time when he was away from Kyoya's side. He had known the other man's father before he died in battle and was always perplexed by how different he was from his son.

Jirou was the only one who had reached out to him when he was a child, undeterred by his feral snarls and thin, starving body. His hand had been warm when he pulled Hayato out of the gutter where his dead sister lay and eased him into a life of luxury he could only dream of. So, when he had met the cold blue-gray eyes of Kyoya, he hesitated.

Their relationship was a mystery, even to Hayato. He didn't even call it a friendship—Kyoya never let anyone in too close, not even his own father. Perhaps it had something to do with his mother, but Hayato never dared to ask again after Kyoya broke several of his ribs and a leg. So, like always, he was left to ponder silently and pick at the pieces himself, something he was good at, but had trouble with when it came to Kyoya.

Still, despite the mystery that shrouded Kyoya's intimidating character, Hayato knew him best out of anyone after knowing him for so long. The flaws in the other man's character should've gotten him killed long ago—for such a difficult man, Kyoya had rather simplistic views of the world—but he was still alive and continued to bare his fangs at anyone who dared opposed him. Never had Hayato met such a fearless man in his life. Perhaps Mukuro—the man never wasted a moment in taunting Kyoya; he was either a masochist or suicidal—but even the strange daimyo seemed more human in Hayato's eyes, which was something he'd never admit out loud.

Kyoya proved to be more frustrating after he told Hayato to find Sora. The man wondered briefly if that was the other's real name but didn't dwell on it too much. He was already exhibiting a headache.

It was just around the afternoon when he was sent out to find the mysterious taikomochi. He had asked General Watanabe prior to his leave on what he knew about the other. The information wasn't much, but it was enough for Hayato. A well-seasoned taikomochi who had been in the business for a few years, young, bright, kind—just about everything he was supposed to show in his role as a male geisha.

He had asked around the seedier places in town, which were drastically reduced since Kyoya became the new daimyo of the Hibari Clan, but was only answered with wary eyes and sharp tongue. Still, that didn't faze him. He expected it as much. The people feared Kyoya as much as they hated him, which Hayato supposed was safe enough. Any ideas of a rebellion had been crushed when Kyoya confiscated the weaponry from the public. That was only one of the very few advices that he had followed through with from Hayato.

A weary sigh escaped his lips after he left another courtesan house. He clicked his tongue. How hard was it to find one person in small town like Namimori? Was Sora even a native? Possibly not but then again, Kyoya would get angry if he didn't bring him back. He didn't even understand why the other man wanted to meet the taikomochi. It was definitely not for a romp under the sheets—Kyoya showed no interest towards men or women—and it was certainly not for some idle chat.

Hayato bit back another sigh as he ran a hand through his hair. The villagers all avoided him and it was pointless to ask any of them—they'd just keep their lips shut or slam the doors in his face. He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't hear the creaking of a barrel and the trot of horse hooves until it was too late.

"Hey, watch it!" a gruff voice shouted behind him.

Hayato scowled, but it quickly disappeared when he turned around and saw a farmer and his horse fast-approaching him. He barely had the time to move when a hand gripped his arm and pulled. He yelped at the unexpected motion when he fell onto a small body. He groaned from the ground's impact, his head dizzy.

A gasp came from the person beneath him, making him tense and look down. Two warm brown eyes looked back at him. Hayato's breath hitched at the worry marring the other man's soft features.

"Are you alright, sir?" the young man said. "Did you break anything?"

Hayato rolled his eyes and huffed. "I should be asking you that." He stood up carefully, aware of the curious eyes on them. "Why did you do that anyway?"

The young man frowned but accepted Hayato's helping hand nonetheless. His hand was warm against Hayato's, which was cold. Suddenly, he felt a spike of fear that he'd somehow break the other man's slim fingers. They were so fragile and light on his palm. He barely contained his frown when the other's hand pulled away from his, already missing the warmth.

"You were about to get hit. No one was telling you to move, too." Hayato only stared when the young man huffed and scowled, but it looked more like a pout on his small face. Kami, everything about him was just small. Even his blue kimono looked a little big on his thin frame. "How cruel of them. You could've been killed."

"But it was me."

The young man looked at him, confused. "What do you mean?"

Hayato pursed his lips, not understanding where he was going with this. "Do you not know who I am?"

He suddenly felt a little self-conscious when the man looked him up and down, studying him with a confused look in his eyes. Finally, the other's eyes settled on the Hibari symbol on his red kimono. His lips parted a bit as his eyes lighted in recognition.

"So, you are from the Hibari Clan?" the other man said slowly.

Hayato's face instantly adopted a blank mask and he braced himself for the expected hate and repulsion for his association. "Yes."

To his shock, the young man just tilted his head, still confused. "I still do not understand."

Hayato's brows furrowed. "Usually others would run away by now."

"Ah."

The unexpected sympathy that flashed in the other's eyes made Hayato tense a little more.

"Well, I would've still saved you regardless of your association with the Hibari Clan."

The gentle smile that tugged on the other's pale lips made Hayato's heart stutter just for a second. He could only stare in disbelief at the man, wondering if this man was actually from here.

"Why?"

The question slipped without him thinking. He flinched, waiting for blows that never came. It was always his inquisitive nature that ignited Kyoya's wrath, something he still couldn't let go. The automatic response was a reflex at this point. It did nothing to lessen the pain but it braced him for whatever Kyoya gave him.

This time, all he got was a sweet laugh and mirthful eyes.

"Why? Did you not want to be?"

For a brief second, Hayato remembered Jirou and his kindness, the father he never thought he'd ever have in his abysmal, meaningless life; how that same kindness seemed to radiate from the young man in front of him.

"I am Gokudera Hayato."

The man looked surprised, not at the name, but at the sudden introduction. Still, he responded with a small bow that had Hayato reeling. No one ever bowed to him before aside from the servants in the compound.

"You can call me Sora."

It was Hayato's turn to be shocked. Still, the other man smiled so kindly, so sweetly, that he found himself hesitating, just like when he had first met Kyoya. This man was a taikomochi; it was his job to please and satisfy customers. Hayato wasn't sure if that extended to strangers, but he held onto the thought like a lifeline.

It was probably stupid of him to think that Sora's kindness was from his own true character, but Hayato always had penchant for lofty ideals and yearnings.

And just like that, he was easily ensnared by the other man's kind, gentle smile.

Namimori, Japan: Hibari Household

Kyoya was alone when Hayato knocked on his door and announced Sora's presence. The man sat comfortably by his small tea table, his futon folded neatly in the corner of his room. He was most comfortable in his own chambers, where no one would dare disturb or approach without good reason. Still, no reason was ever good enough if it disturbed Kyoya's peace.

The door slid open and Hayato and the taikomochi walked in right after. Hayato looked at him with a strange boldness that even caught Kyoya off-guard, but he held onto his stoic gaze and merely looked back with the same intensity. That made Hayato slightly falter.

"Hibari-sama, I have brought you Sora-san," Hayato said. "Is there anything else I can get you?"

"Leave."

Hayato pursed his lips but didn't protest. He glanced at Sora who smiled at him comfortingly before he finally left, closing the door quietly behind him.

A beat of silence passed between them. Sora did not stand stiffly at his entrance; his slim body was relaxed and empty of tension compared to Kyoya's who was reminded daily of his sore wounds. Still, he doubted that he was tense because of the wounds. He reached out for the brass teapot and refilled his cup. The light trickling of liquid was quietly received by the silence.

"You called for me, Hibari-sama."

Again, that soft voice that seemed to plague his mind prior to this meeting escaped from the other's pale lips. He didn't ask a question either. There was no curiosity, just skepticism and a self-assured statement. It was an odd combination, but it did nothing to grate on Kyoya's nerves strangely enough. The herbivore had yet to do anything that set him off.

Kyoya blew on his cup gently, the soft heat tickling his lips. "Sit."

Sora bowed, then moved forward with the same grace he had when they first met. His blue kimono sagged slightly at his small shoulders, but his body was surprisingly lithe. His eyes were still the same—kind, brown, and meek. Everything about him just screamed herbivore, and yet, there was a tautness in his frail shoulders that made Kyoya briefly reconsider. His back was straight and there was no hesitance in his movements. Everything was done with purpose. It might've impressed Kyoya if the man didn't look so weak and unassuming.

No, in his mind, Sora was an herbivore, just like the rest of them.

Kyoya couldn't comprehend the slight frustration that grasped his mind, but he shoved it away when Sora sat across from him, his eyes still downcast and resting on his hands. Kyoya sipped his tea and placed the cup on the table, the light clink cutting through the silence.

"What is your name, herbivore?"

Sora looked up then, though cautiously. His lips twitched into a small smile, but it never came. "My name is Sora."

Kyoya pursed his lips. "Your real name, herbivore."

The smile came then, with a twinge of mirth and amusement. It irked Kyoya.

"But Sora is m—"

"No, it's not."

The smile never disappeared and Kyoya was overcome with the urge to tear it off his face with the knife he hid under his sleeves.

"I apologize, Hibari-sama, but you called for Sora."

Kyoya scowled. He wasn't in the mood for playful word tricks or double meanings. It reminded him of Mukuro. His hand tightened around his cup, the ceramic burning against his palm, but he didn't do anything else. The other man glanced at his hand with a frown but didn't say anything.

"Why did y—"

Kyoya cut him off with a glare and was a little satisfied when Sora quickly shut his mouth. Still, the frustrating worming through his brain was still unsettling.

"Entertain me."

The command was sudden and unexpected, but Kyoya didn't pay it much mind. He was rather bored, and if this herbivore couldn't do what his job entailed, then this was a waste of time. Sora blinked but composed himself swiftly. His lips pursed together in thought before curling into a small grin.

"Ah, would you like to hear a story, Hibari-sama?"

Kyoya frowned, his brows furrowed in slight confusion. "I said to entertain me."

If the skepticism somehow made itself known in Kyoya's tense voice, Sora didn't comment on it. Instead, he just chuckled and spoke like he was talking to a child.

"Yes, well, I promise that this story will entertain you, Hibari-sama. Unless you have anything else more specific in mind."

Kyoya just let out a small huff and pursed his lips. He stared at Sora with his usual cold eyes, but the other didn't flinch or look away, his face still pleasant and open.

How foolish, Kyoya thought.

"Have you ever heard of stories about the yokai that live in Namimori, Hibari-sama?"

Kyoya's hands instantly tensed, his knuckles going white. "What yokai?"

Sora blinked a couple of times before laughing. It reminded Kyoya of the fluttering of wings, breathless, light, and so fragile. And yet, he did not keel over and break. He sat there with shoulders shaking and his hand covering his mouth. Kyoya did not understand.

"Hibari-sama," Sora said finally, "there are no actual yokai that live in Namimori." His eyes glinted mischievously, like Mukuro, but it wasn't cruel or mocking. It was innocent and so child-like that Kyoya wasn't sure how to take it. "Well, it's not really implausible. Perhaps they do live here, perhaps not. It depends on your beliefs." Sora tilted his head questioningly. A part of his neck showed through. "Do you believe in yokai, Hibari-sama?"

Kyoya's jaw clenched involuntarily, the tension making his teeth ache. "I asked to be entertained, herbivore."

Sora smiled, all soft edges and looking the perfect herbivore that he was. "Of course, Hibari-sama. I apologize."

Kyoya just lightly huffed before sipping some more tea to calm his nerves. He then waited as Sora took in a small breath and exhaled slowly.

"There was a young girl who lived here centuries ago," Sora said, his voice taking a much calmer and soothing tone. "She was born with the whitest skin and the blackest hair. So fine they were, no other woman could compare to her beauty. Even when she roamed the streets, others would always smile at her, showering her with small gifts and lovely praises. Still, she was lonely. Being surrounded by a sea of people never quelled the ache in her heart when she had no one to call as a friend."

Briefly, those words were piercing in their structured beauty, and Kyoya gripped his cup even harder to stop his hand from shaking. He wanted Sora to keep quiet, to stop talking, but he was already enraptured by the other's man tale.

Sora's voice became softer then, and sounded almost lyrical to Kyoya's ears. "So, she ran—she ran away far into the mountains for she was also just as foolish as she was beautiful. There, she found an even emptier place than here. There were no people to greet her, no mother to braid her hair, no father to keep her warm—just her and the quiet trees and soil where no living creatures dared to disturb her. The girl's absence was noticed immediately, and with winter coming, her father sent swarms of men into the mountains before the first snow fell."

A small hush fell in the room; aside from the chirping of birds and the steady breathing from the two men, none of them spoke a word. Kyoya could envision it—the girl running blind into the mountains with her long black hair trailing behind her, her skin pale under the sunlight, the mountains tall and looming over Namimori as winter slowly approached.

He blinked, but the images blurred in his own direct line of vision, as if he was physically there watching the girl run away. Never had he conjured such vivid images in his mind—he was not exactly the imaginative type. Still, he grew impatient when Sora didn't continue. The other man was looking at him with a thoughtful look in his eyes, but it wasn't invasive or intruding—just pensive, as if he was thinking of something else and not of Kyoya.

Before Kyoya could speak, Sora continued as if the silence between them never happened, easily returning to the flow of his tale.

"When the first snow fell, the men continued to search the mountains and call out the girl's name, but there was no answer or sighting of her anywhere. Eventually, the number of men dwindled until no one else had the will to venture in the cold mountains again. Soon the girl became forgotten by everyone but one—the servant that served her family. He had been with them for many years and helped raised her since she was a baby. When everyone else gave up, he took it upon himself to find the sweet little girl he grew fond of. So, one evening, he put on his warmest clothes and trekked up the mountains.

"The servant didn't know how much time he spent climbing through the thick snow, but he did not rest until he found the girl; for he thought that every minute he'd stop to catch his breath would be just another minute that prolonged the girl's terror and loneliness in the mountains. He'd scream her name endlessly until his voice grew hoarse and all he could do was whisper her name. Soon, he saw a figure in the distance, sitting on a small rock. His pace grew faster and he saw the familiar trail of black hair and white skin—finally, he found the young mistress!

"Even then, she did not turn to face him until he called out to her one more time. When she did, she still did not move from her spot but the servant told her to wait there until he went to her side. Her hair was blacker than he remembered and her skin was so pale it was whiter than the snow. Still, that did not deter the servant because he was very happy to find the young girl. When he approached her, he gave her his cloak but her skin was still cold and she never moved from her spot. She only asked why he came.

"Bewildered at the question, the servant told her that everyone missed her at home and tried to coax her in coming back down with him; however, the girl refused for she was waiting for someone. Unknown to the servant, the girl did not recognize him for death had already erased her memories of the living. Still, he persisted, so the girl asked if he would stay with her and kept her company in the cold. The servant did not hesitate and sat down by her side. He did not question how cold her hand was against his nor did he question the tattered white kimono she suddenly wore. Soon he eventually froze to death, but his hand still did not let go of the girl's. The girl disappeared before spring came, and no one looked for them after winter passed. Some say you can see the remains of the servant in the mountains, holding onto the small rock; others say you can find the young girl again in the same spot but warn to never approach her for she was now the Yuki Onna."

Sora took in a deep breath again and exhaled, his eyes closing briefly. His shoulders sagged slightly as his eyes fluttered open again. He looked almost refreshed, as if he had taken a long dip in the sauna. There was a sense of calm about him that even eased some of the tension in Kyoya's shoulders. His hand had let go of his cup long before the tale ended, his palm turning cooler.

Kyoya spoke before he could stop himself. "That servant was a foolish herbivore."

Sora's lips twitched a little, unable to decide whether to frown or smile. "May I ask why, Hibari-sama? I think it's rather sweet."

Kyoya scowled. Of course, this herbivore would find it sentimental. Herbivores flocked together for emotional codependence that only hindered their evolutions in the wild. It was why they were hunted and trampled upon by the carnivores—they were weak and fragile, which only made them more deserving to be at the bottom of the food chain.

"He did not have to save the girl," he said tersely. "He could have lived."

"But he wanted to," Sora said patiently, as if talking to a child. "And yes, I suppose he could have lived. But"—he looked up to meet Kyoya's gaze, unafraid and confident—"would it have been better if he lived knowing that he could have done something but did not do anything about it? I see it as a matter of love, don't you, Hibari-sama?"

Kyoya pursed his lips. "I do not understand. If the girl herbivore hadn't run away, then the servant could have lived."

Sora smiled then, but it was thin and didn't reach his eyes. "You cannot blame the victims for what they did, Hibari-sama. That is cruel."

A growl slipped through Kyoya's lips. "Know your place, herbivore."

Sora bowed his head. "I apologize, Hibari-sama. That was very thoughtless of me."

Kyoya just clicked his tongue. He looked away to look out into the small garden. His silence again was used as a dismissal. Sora just stood up soundlessly and bowed again.

"I am honored to have been in your company, Hibari-sama. I hope you enjoy the rest of your day."

After Hayato escorted Sora out, Kyoya did not leave his room for the rest of the day. His mind was plagued with the images of snow, long black hair, and a cold hand in another's, and he did not see Sora for another month.

June 5, 1531: Namimori, Japan: Hibari Household

Kyoya had ignored the way Hayato clicked his tongue on the sidelines when the spar first started and completely disregarded Takeshi lounging on the engawa. His muscles protested against Ryohei's punches and kicks, even if they were being held back, which only irked Kyoya and made him lash out even more.

He soon managed to take advantage of Ryohei's small slip, hooking his foot quickly around the other's ankle and bringing him to the ground. He twisted his wooden katana and brought it down harshly against Ryohei's sweaty neck, eliciting a throaty mix of groan and laughter. The older man just grinned at him.

"That was good, Hibari!" he said enthusiastically, pumping a fist in the air.

Kyoya just clicked his tongue and let go of the man roughly. "You are not trying today, herbivore."

Ryohei chuckled sheepishly as he sat up. He ran a hand through his odd white hair. "I'm not holding back my punches or anything like that, Hibari. Just haven't been feeling very well for the past few days or so."

Even the bright gleam in Takeshi's dark eyes faltered a bit, though his smile never really disappeared, always prepared to lighten the mood. "Have you seen the doctor?"

Ryohei just waved him off. "Hana made sure I did. I'll be fine. Just some rest and medicine will do."

"And yet, you are here, Sasagawa-dono," Hayato said dryly.

Takeshi laughed. "Let the man live, Gokudera! If Ryohei-san says he's fine, then he's fine."

The other man just scowled at him but thankfully kept his mouth shut. Those two always seemed to pick an argument or two with each other; however, it seemed more on Hayato's end while Takeshi would take the other's insults with an easy laugh and a smile.

Kyoya grabbed the wet cloth Hayato handed him and wiped away the sweat from his brow. The sun was merciless today as the summer heat was starting to kick in. Kyoya never liked this particular season—it gave birth to that herbivore Mukuro—and preferred the spring when the cherry blossoms were in bloom.

"Why don't we go inside and cool off with some mugicha?" Takeshi said, snapping his fan close. "You don't mind, right, Hibari?"

Kyoya just walked inside one of the rooms and closed the door behind him.

Takeshi laughed breezily. "I'll take that as a yes."

After the servants brought in the mugachi, Kyoya made sure to keep his distance from the other three men. His brow twitched as Takeshi and Ryohei laughed again from some inane joke. Hayato looked just as irritated, but Kyoya made him stay only to make sure he suffered with him. He blamed the heat for his petty thinking.

Still, the cool tea was refreshing and Kyoya felt a bit better after drinking it. It would be better if those herbivores hadn't invited themselves in.

"Ah, why don't you invite Sora here?" Ryohei said. "It's been a while since I've seen him. I actually find myself missing some of his stories."

Hayato raised a brow. "I didn't peg you for listening to stories, Sasagawa-dono."

Ryohei grinned. "Not unless they're from Sora. He's extremely talented and Kyoko and Hana like him, too. I invited him when we celebrated Hideo's birthday a month ago and they loved him."

Hayato just sighed. "Only you would celebrate a servant's birthday. That does not bode well to the other warlords' eyes, Sasagawa-dono."

Takeshi laughed. "I think it's very nice of him. Hideo is what, fifteen years of age now?"

Ryohei nodded. "Yes. He's been adjusting well in our home ever since we found him. Kyoko thinks of him fondly like a little brother."

"Well, if Hibari allows it, I could send out one of my servants to find Sora." Takeshi glanced at Hibari with a bright smile. "What do you say, Hibari?"

Kyoya didn't offer him any response. He wasn't sure if he wanted to see Sora again. That tale about the Yuki Onna still irritated him, even when he wasn't thinking about it. Not even that, the herbivore's voice managed to seep through carefully-constructed cracks to swirl gently in his mind, reminding him of the sweet trills of the garden birds. It was both welcoming and unwelcoming at the same time.

"You seem close to Sora, Takeshi," Ryohei said.

Takeshi laughed. "Really? I only met him a couple of months ago. Enma recommended him and I invited him on my birthday." He shrugged. "Well, Sora tells really fun stories and he's smart, too. I think you'll like him, Gokudera. He knows a lot of things."

Hayato pursed his lips. "You're rather simple-minded, Yamamoto-dono. Anything can catch your fancy easily. You should spare yourself the complicated thoughts."

Takeshi grinned, his laugh still rich and happy. "I know. I was never a good student before either, but Sora makes it sound easy and fun!"

Ryohei let out an excited shout. "Let's invite him over then!"

"If Hibari-sama allows it," Hayato said tersely. "Don't forget that this is his home."

Kyoya glanced at the waiting men, their eyes bright and eager. Hayato kept his eyes downcast but anticipation gripped his body tightly and he hid it very poorly. Finally, Kyoya just waved his hand dismissively as he sipped more of his cold beverage. If the herbivores would shut up, then he let them do as they pleased. They were, at least, smart enough to leave him be when needed.

He let out a small sigh when the men, excluding Hayato, cheered.

It took a while for Takeshi's servant to fetch Sora, but the other men didn't mind. By the time the other man arrived, they were fairly relaxed and chatting amicably, excluding Hayato who only argued with Takeshi. Kyoya seriously wondered how he was saddled with these idiotic herbivores.

"Yamamoto-sama, Sora-san is here," the servant said from outside the door.

The door slid open and Sora walked inside with a bow. Kyoya blinked at the garb he wore—a light, summer kimono colored a beautiful shade of sunset orange. It strangely brought out the brown in his eyes and meshed well with his light skin.

Sora smiled at the men. "Good afternoon, Yamamoto-sama, Sasagawa-sama, Hibari-sama, Gokudera-sama."

Hayato turned an interesting shade of red when he shook his head. "Oh, no, you don't have to call me that, Sora. I'm just Hibari-sama's adviser."

Sora smiled kindly at him. "And I am here to entertain my customers, no?"

Ryohei laughed. "I extremely missed you, Sora. Even Hana misses your wit."

"You humble me, Sasagawa-sama. It would be an honor to meet Kurokawa-sama again, and Kyoko-san."

"Now, don't go stealing my sister's heart." Though Ryohei sounded more teasing than serious. "She's still too young to think about marriage."

"She is nineteen years of age, Sasagawa-dono," Hayato said. "That's already too late for her to get married."

Ryohei grinned. "That's even better."

Takeshi laughed. "Well, I'm sure Kyoko-chan can find someone suitable soon. There are plenty of good men in Namimori." He glanced amusedly at Kyoya. "Even Hibari isn't a bad choice."

Kyoya glared at him. "I am not interested, herbivore."

"Not interested in marriage or in Kyoko-chan?" Takeshi said teasingly. "Come on, Hibari. She's a sweet and pretty girl."

"I'm right here, Takeshi," Ryohei said dryly. "And if anyone asks for Kyoko's hand in marriage, they have to go through me first."

"Don't you mean Hana?"

Ryohei shuddered. "Right. Hana, then me." He pointed at Kyoya and Takeshi. "So don't go and have any strange thoughts about my sister, alright? I'll know!"

Takeshi laughed. "Maa, maa, I was only joking, Sasagawa-dono. I have no interests in Kyoko-chan."

Kyoya just clicked his tongue. "I'm interested in neither, herbivore."

Ryohei nodded. "That's extremely good to hear." He gestured Sora to come forward. "Sora, sit. We were wondering if you could tell us another one of your tales."

Sora smiled brightly as he knelt down in front of the men. "Well, of course. That is why I am here, Sasagawa-sama. Is there something specific you would like to hear?"

"Surprise us!" Takeshi said, smiling. "We'll love anything you tell."

Kyoya shifted in his seat, eyeing the brunet warily. He had never gotten over the Yuki Onna story and was already thinking what a terrible idea this was becoming. Sora met his eyes briefly, but smiled at him reassuringly as if he could read his thoughts.

"Well, I suppose," Sora said, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "Ah!"

He then took in a deep breath and exhaled, just like he did when Kyoya met him alone last time. When Sora opened his eyes, Kyoya blinked, slightly startled at the sudden golden hue they took.

It must be the light, he thought when they returned back to their original hue.

"This is one my favorites. I do hope you like it. I think it's rather wonderful."

The men waited with bated breath before Sora finally spoke again. Even Kyoya found himself leaning in slightly to hear what the herbivore had to say.

"In Namimori, many years ago, a young couple gave birth to a little boy named Iwao. He was a bright and happy child who the villagers loved dearly. Every day, he'd walk around the streets to talk to the other residents. They would give him a smile and entertain his questions as long as they could before continuing their day. He had many friends who enjoyed playing with him since he was just as fun as he was welcoming.

"Soon, the town experienced a terrible drought. With no rain, the farmers' crops could not grow. The people grew hungrier day by day while the farmers prayed to the gods for rain. Iwao, who could not bear to see the people suffer any longer, ventured out to the temples in the forest to pray for the gods' mercy. However, on his way there, he saw a beautiful young woman walking towards him. She wore a lovely white kimono and held a large umbrella over her head. Iwao was curious about this mysterious woman so he boldly approached her on her path.

"He asked her who she was and why she held an umbrella when it wasn't raining. The woman only walked past him, quiet and in a daze. Iwao quickly walked by her side and asked her again. It was then he realized that she was soaked to the bone and that there were endless tears pouring down her pale cheeks. He next asked why she was crying. The woman finally turned to him and said that she was bringing rain to his people so the crops could grow again. She spoke so quietly that the boy had to cup his ears and lean in closer to hear what she said.

"Still, rather than rejoice at the idea of rain finally blessing his town, Iwao asked again why she was crying. The woman was puzzled by the question—all her eternal life, she was never asked to speak about her troubles. She only came and went quietly with the rain that followed her. But she did so anyway to quell the boy's curiosity. She said that in order for it to rain, she must continue to weep. The life she led was one of eternal sadness and that she could never be happy. Iwao, moved by the woman's loneliness, asked if he could walk with her back to his town. The woman was so touched by the boy's kindness that wept even more, but not out of sadness, but of happiness.

"After blessing the fields with rain, the woman went back the way she came. Iwao walked with her the whole way and thanked her for bringing rain to his people's crops. The woman gave him a small trinket, instructing him to use it if he ever needed her again. He promised that he would and wished her to be happy on her endless journey. With that, she parted ways with the sweet boy, weeping happy tears and bringing the rain with her to the next town."

A hush fell over the room. Sora stayed quiet, his smile serene as he patiently waited for the men to respond. Kyoya found himself staring at the other man, unable to tear his eyes away from Sora's face. While he spoke his tale, Sora had never looked so docile or open. There was an innocent air about him despite the heavy words that spilled effortlessly from his tongue.

And that was when Kyoya saw him for the little animal that he was, something to be coddled and protected from the horrors of the world. That innocence that he had lost in his youth still lived in Sora and he found himself vowing to protect it.

Takeshi gave him a knowing smile, but Kyoya didn't acknowledge it. He kept his gaze locked on Sora when he told more tales at Ryohei's request. Even Hayato asked shyly for another one.

When the evening came, Kyoya basked in the sound of cicadas, laughter, and the sound of Sora's voice.

June 9, 1531: Namimori, Japan: Asagao District

Kyoya was in an even worse mood than usual. This time, Hayato had steered clear of the furious man and quietly told the servants to stay a good distance away from his personal chambers. They didn't need to be told twice.

There was another skirmish that morning, but this time, it was Mukuro who had attacked first. This already rose Hayato's suspicions since the other man always waited for Kyoya to make the first move and he had a feeling that the other man had something planned under his sleeve. He just didn't know what and that irritated him to no end. Kyoya never told him what happened on the battlefields, forcing him to ask around what soldiers managed to come back alive. That morning, Kyoya looked far worse than his previous battles and even walked with a small limp that he tried to hide admirably.

So, Hayato took it upon himself to scout the soldiers that Kyoya took that day and ask what in the world happened. It was his job to make sure Kyoya didn't do anything stupid or get himself killed, even if he rarely listened to him—it was a promise he made to the man's father and he planned to keep it in repayment for the man's kindness.

Most of the soldiers he asked couldn't give him the answers he was looking for, but they did say that they had never seen Kyoya so livid before. Sure, he lost his temper frequently with Mukuro but this was something else. He had become a monster on the battlefield—a raging beast—and nearly killed Mukuro if the other man hadn't somehow escaped like he usually did. No one knew why.

Hayato sighed deeply and ran a hand through his hair. The heat was insufferable again today. There were only a few more soldiers to meet and he was determined to get to them all. He refused to admit that it was just another way to avoid Kyoya. When he announced his presence in another small home, the door slid open to reveal a bandaged man.

He nodded at Hayato in greeting. "Gokudera-san."

"Osamu-san," Hayato said neutrally, "I'm assuming you know why I'm here."

The soldier clicked his tongue, wincing when he shifted. His side was bandaged heavily and his left ankle swelled up.

"Dear, who is that?" the man's wife said, poking her head in from their bedroom. "Ah, Gokudera-san, good afternoon."

Hayato nodded in greeting. "I just need to talk to your husband for a little bit."

"Is Satoshi with you?" Osamu said.

His wife nodded. "He's taking a nap. Would you like anything to drink, Gokudera-san? Tea perhaps?"

Hayato shook his head. "No, I'm fine. Thank you though."

She nodded and shuffled back inside the bedroom, closing the door quietly. Osamu sighed.

"I'm only assuming that you heard of what happened today, Gokudera-san," he said wearily.

Hayato nodded. "I was hoping to find out what happened to Hibari-sama today."

Osamu grimaced. "I only got bits and pieces of what happened, Gokudera-san."

"Anything will be helpful, Osamu-san."

The soldier looked away for a moment, his eyes distant and thoughtful. "I'm not quite sure if what I heard was accurate. I was fighting off another one of Rokudo's men nearby when I saw Hibari-sama…" He shuddered. "I have never seen Hibari-sama so furious. Rokudo—he was an absolute madman. All he did was laugh at Hibari-sama while they fought." Osamu tenderly touched his wound. "I got this from Rokudo. Hibari-sama had slipped and I managed to get to him in time." His brows furrowed. "Their conversation was strange, Gokudera-san. They had mentioned something about keeping the sky to themselves, but I am not sure if it is a metaphor of sorts."

Hayato paled. "Sky…?"

His voice cracked slightly, catching Osamu's attention. The other man frowned in concern.

"Are you alright, Gokudera-san? Does that have any meaning to you?"

Hayato pursed his lips, cursing the summer heat again. He bowed towards Osamu. "Thank you, Osamu-san. You've been a great help. I hope you recover well soon. Please, let me know if there is anything else you need."

Ignoring the man's confused look, he quickly left the soldier's compound. His nails dug into his sweaty palms as he took in a deep, shaky breath. His mind was reeling and he couldn't keep his thoughts together. Sky—Sora. There was no other meaning. He licked his chapped lips. Damn it, he should've seen this coming; but then again, he had let his own emotions override his rationale.

He flinched when he saw a familiar shade of blue at the corner of his eye. Before he knew it, his legs were already moving on their own.

"So—"

He froze.

"—ke sure that he doesn't move around too much," the familiar soft voice said quietly.

The man Sora was talking to nodded solemnly. Hayato recognized him immediately from his short black hair and green kimono—Kakimoto Chikusa, one of Mukuro's most trusted advisers and generals. What was he doing here in Namimori?

"He will be in good hands, Sora," the man said. "There is nothing to worry about."

Sora nodded, though his eyes were still filled with worry. "Thank you, Kakimoto-san. And please, tell Nagi that I appreciate the kimono she made for me."

Chikusa's pale lips twitched upward in a slight smile. "Of course. I'm sure she'd be delighted. Travel safely, Sora."

"You, too, Kakimoto-san."

Once the man left, Sora turned to leave, but Hayato was already three steps ahead. He grabbed Sora's arm and tugged him harshly to face him. Sora widened his eyes.

"G—Gokudera-san!"

"What are you doing?" Hayato hissed. "Why were you talking with that man?"

"Gokudera-san, you're hurting me!"

Hayato flinched. His hand was wrapped tightly around Sora's arm, his knuckles white from his grip. He immediately let go as if he was burned. "I—I'm sorry. I didn't—"

Sora just brushed his sleeve to smooth out the light fabric. "He was only a customer, Gokudera-san."

Hayato pursed his lips. "He works for Rokudo Mukuro, Sora. That man is dangerous. I don't know why he is here but—"

Sora huffed. "Kakimoto-san only escorts me this far to make sure I am safe. He knows what will happen if he ventures any further. I have served Mukuro-sama many times before. This isn't anything different, Gokudera-san."

Those words made Hayato flinch. Again, and again, they circled around his head and he could barely grasp their meaning entirely. He mentally cursed. Why did he think any different? Sora was a taikomochi. It wasn't like he belonged to anyone—he was a free man to go where he pleased. Hayato had no right to lash out like he did.

"I…I am sorry, Sora," he said tightly. "I didn't mean to do that. Please forgive me…"

Sora's face softened, his eyes kind and forgiving. Hayato tensed when Sora placed a hand almost tenderly on his cheek. He found himself leaning into the warm touch.

"It's alright, Gokudera-san," Sora said gently. "I understand. But Kakimoto-san is not stupid. He drops me off here and leaves immediately back for Kokuyo." He smiled as if that was Hayato was worried about. "No detours."

Hayato clutched the other's hand firmly. "Still, Rokudo is dangerous. He could hurt you."

Sora laughed and Hayato found it the most beautiful sound he ever heard. "Ah, well, he can't do much at the moment even if he tried. He's very hurt."

Hayato sighed. "Please, promise me that you won't go to him ever again. He's a man that cannot be trusted, no matter what he says. They're all lies."

Sora smiled lightly. "I cannot promise that, Gokudera-san. Don't worry. I can take care of myself just fine. I'm alive so far, aren't I?"

"That…does not make me feel any better."

Sora laughed, his cheeks dusted with a pretty shade of red. Whether it was from the heat or not, Hayato couldn't tell; still, he couldn't help but smile and wish that moments like these would come by more frequently in his meaningless life.

When he returned to Kyoya's home, he was quickly ushered to the other man's meeting room where all the generals were assembled, their faces grave.

Kyoya didn't ask where he went. Hayato doubted that he even cared as long as it wasn't anything against him. Still, he was startled when Kyoya looked at him with an even gaze, devoid of any hostility. There was fire burning behind those cold gray eyes that made shivers crawl up Hayato's spine.

"W—Why are we all gathered here, generals?" he managed to say.

Kyoya glowered, making everyone in the room flinch. "We will invade Kokuyo— tonight."

Kokuyo, Japan: Rokudo Household

"His adviser saw us, Rokudo-sama. I apologize for not being as discreet as possible."

A bandaged hand waved lazily in the air. "There's no need to worry, Chikusa-kun. That actually was perfect for my dear Sora."

Chikusa furrowed his brows, obviously confused. "I…see."

The other man just chuckled, sitting up straighter from his cushion despite his injuries. Heavy bandages wrapped around his entire upper body, though he barely winced from the movement. Nagi frowned as she reached out to help her older brother sit more comfortably and not agitate his wounds.

"Onii-san, the doctor said you should rest," she said softly.

"Ah, how kind of you, Nagi. But I am fine, really." Mukuro took her smaller hands into his. "This is nothing."

Nagi sighed but didn't push any further, knowing how awfully stubborn her brother could be. She just patted his hands before resuming her needlework again.

"Either way, since that dog of his saw you, it will only be a matter of time before the skylark makes his move."

Chikusa paled while Nagi tensed, her hands still going through the relaxing motions of sewing the red kimono on her lap. It was the only way to keep her hands from trembling and her mind focused on much more pleasant things.

"I—I should have been more careful, Rokudo-sama," Chikusa said. "But Sora insisted on having me drop him in one of the closer districts in Namimori."

Mukuro just smiled. "And I will say it again, Chikusa-kun, you did fine."

"What are you planning, Onii-san?" Nagi said, her brows slightly furrowed. "Please don't involve Sora in your schemes. He does not deserve to be used for something so…cruel."

She may be weak in both mind and body —her childhood illness had taken a much worse toll than the doctors had expected, taking her right eye and most of her physical energy—and less devious than her brother, but she had always cherished Sora as a dear friend and would do anything to keep him away from her brother's plans. Having witnessed many of Mukuro's schemes, Nagi refused to see them reach someone as innocent and kind as Sora.

Mukuro chuckled. "Ah, my dear Nagi, I have nothing planned at all. It seems like Sora himself has something up his sleeve." Nagi blinked. "I am not sure what he has in mind, but I am interested in seeing it unfold."

Nagi chewed on her lower lip. That…was not she expected. Sora was a sweet young man who told the most delightful stories and even helped advise Mukuro and his generals when they asked for his input. He was brilliant as much as he was kind. For him to be planning something devious was unlike him; however, it must have its purpose if he was resorting to such drastic measures. She could only pray that he was safe.

Suddenly, the doors opened and Ken barged in the room, startling Nagi.

"Rokudo-sama, there are reports of Hibari's men coming in from the west!"

Chikusa widened his eyes and immediately stood up. Nagi gasped. A needle pricked her finger then, a small droplet of blood oozing from the small wound. Before she could process what was happening, Mukuro already grabbed her and shoved her towards Chikusa.

"Take Nagi to one of the safe houses in Momo," Mukuro said. "Send for the other generals here and make sure our perimeters are secured. The skylark will most definitely come here."

"Onii-san!" Nagi gasped.

Mukuro smiled at her with his eyes filled with gentleness reserved only for her. "Don't worry, my dear Nagi. Don't you have any faith in your brother? I will see you there."

Nagi could barely get a word out when Chikusa dragged her out of the room. Her feet stumbled on the wooden floor countless times, but the other man never failed to stand her upright again. She looked around with wide eyes as servants and soldiers dashed around the usually quiet house. In the distance, she could hear war cries and galloping horses.

"You will be safe with me, Nagi-san," Chikusa said. "There is a horse ready for you in the back."

"What about my brother?" Nagi said.

"He will be f—"

Nagi screamed when Chikusa slumped to the ground. A long, deep gash tore through his back. Stumbling backwards, Nagi looked up with wide eyes when she met cold gray eyes. Her breath hitched and she could barely react when a blade slashed her neck.

August 28, 1531: Namimori, Japan: Hibari Household

"There are still no sightings of Rokudo so far, Hibari-sama," Watanabe said. "None of his men remain in Kokuyo either. I believe it is safe to say he won't be bothering us any time soon."

"Don't underestimate that man," Ito said, tensely. "Before you know it, he will spring back from the dead and drag us all down with him."

"I won't be surprised if he is still mourning his sister," Nakajima said, sipping some mugicha. "They were very close, weren't they?" He glanced at the silent Kyoya. "Again, it was a rather brilliant change in tactics, Hibari-sama. We managed to divert Rokudo's attention and strike in for the kill. Now, he has no choice but to hide and lick his own wounds. Pity we couldn't actually capture the man, but he is as slippery as he gets."

"Other than that, I believe we gained the greater benefit," Hayato said. "Kokuyo is under our rule. It will help expand Namimori and establish a broader network of trade with other cities."

Watanabe laughed. "Well, why not all of Japan while we're at it? Surely you men must feel more ambitious than that!"

Kyoya clicked his tongue, making everyone tense. "Namimori is mine and mine alone and that is enough, herbivore. Don't speak about such foolish ideals."

Watanabe bowed. "I apologize, Hibari-sama. That was out of line for me."

Kyoya stood up and left the room, effectively dismissing the meeting. He ignored the men's quiet farewells as he walked down the empty hallways.

When Hayato reached him, he said, "Do not disturb me, herbivore."

His adviser bowed. "Of course, Hibari-sama."

Kokuyo, Japan: Momo District

For days, they hid, and for days, Mukuro was left to ponder in the shadows of his room. His wounds were almost all healed, but he did not step out of his safe house. He was in no condition to fight against Kyoya and his men when his own men were nearly all slaughtered. For once, his mind did not think as he wished.

"Rokudo-sama, Sora is here," Ken's quiet voice spoke through the door.

"Send him in and leave us be," Mukuro said.

When Sora walked inside with his head bowed, Mukuro quelled the urge to just slit his throat right then and there. He found it admirable of himself, considering the circumstances nowadays. He watched silently when Sora sat down across from him, wearing a dark brown kimono. Neither of them spoke. Mukuro then reached for a spare cup and poured some tea inside.

"Tea?" he said.

Sora glanced at his cup and then at Mukuro's, which was already empty. "Would you like for me to pour your cup as well, Rokudo-sama?"

His voice was soft and quiet. Mukuro simply turned the tea kettle around for Sora to take hold. He didn't take his own eyes off of the younger man's face. It was politely blank and that irked Mukuro to no end. He took in a small, deep breath to calm his nerves. His hand moved to bring his cup of tea up to his pale lips. Blowing gently, he took a tentative sip, the hot liquid burning his tongue pleasurably.

"I am glad to see you safe, Rokudo-sama."

Mukuro placed his cup down with more force than necessary. "Yes, and you seem to enjoy life more than usual, Sora." He took pleasure in seeing the other man flinch. "Do you know why I called you in here and gave you such explicit access to my sanctuary?"

Sora stayed quiet, his eyes wary and sad. Mukuro clicked his tongue lightly. "I asked you a question, Sora, and I expect an answer." He smirked. "Or were you expecting me to just hand my life to you that easily? I'm a stubborn man, Sora, and I don't wish to die just yet."

"I did not expect Nagi to die…"

Mukuro glared. "Do not speak her name."

"Is that why you called me here, Rokudo-sama?" Sora's voice reverted back to that cool, professional tone. "Because I am more than happy to listen to your burdens and sorrows."

Mukuro smiled thinly. "You are entirely off the mark; and I thought you were smarter than that."

"You are not the only one suffering, Rokudo-sama."

The tension in Mukuro's shoulders was becoming more painful. Still, he kept his own body as lax as possible. "Choose your words more wisely, Sora."

"Nagi was not supposed to die."

Mukuro then leapt over the table, ignoring the ache in his weakened body. A loud crash pierced the silence as he wrapped his hands around Sora's delicate neck. The other man widened his eyes, reaching to pry off Mukuro's grip.

"I do not know what you are doing, Tsunayoshi," Mukuro hissed, "but you already have my disapproval."

The brunet looked at him in shock; whether it was if he was found out or from the use of his real name, Mukuro did not care. He had already lost half of his own wit after his sister's death and losing the city that he had ruled for years. What more could he lose now?

"You underestimated me, Tsunayoshi, and that in itself is insulting. I can kill you right now and no one will know. How many people will mourn your death, hm? The skylark perhaps? Or that dog of his?"

Tsunayoshi struggled weakly under his tightening grip, his mouth open and choking desperately for air. Mukuro relished in it. He had control, the control that he had so desired and needed to assure him of his own power. And what better way to show it by taking Tsunayoshi's life with his own hands? Still, that small voice—that small semblance of reason and love that sounded too much like his sister—told him that this wasn't right, that there were other things to worry about.

"Tell me, how did you manage to tame that beast? Was it mere coincidence for him to suddenly think intelligently for once?" Mukuro laughed bitterly. "You might as well have killed Nagi yourself, Tsunayoshi, for sending that animal to my home. Is that why you came so willingly? Will he fly in here too, and tear me apart?"

"N…o…"

Mukuro glared but the smile never left his pale face. "What was that, Tsunayoshi? No? Please, elaborate."

"I…didn't…send him…"

"You're lying."

"Nagi…was…my friend…"

"Keep your mouth shut."

"You can't…kill me…Rokudo-sama…"

"You are more foolish than I thought, Tsunayoshi. Your life is quite literally in my hands."

"You won't… Nagi would hate it…"

It was then that Mukuro realized his grip had loosened around Tsunayoshi's already bruising neck. He stared down at the gasping young man, his hands never letting go. The other's skin was cool against warm palms, his neck so small underneath his larger hands. He could feel the other's pulse beat gently against his fingers, making him slightly shudder. A weak chuckle escaped his lips.

"You are cruel and foolish to use my dear Nagi like that against me, Tsunayoshi," Mukuro said in a much more subdued tone. "How much stupider will you be today, I wonder?"

Tsunayoshi's gaze did not waver under his, though there were still remnants of pain on his soft, pale face. "If being stupid and foolish will ease the pain in your heart, then I will continue to do so, Rokudo-sama. I am here to serve you."

Mukuro laughed, his body aching from the deep rumble in his throat. "You spoil me, Tsunayoshi. Tell me, what have you been doing lately?"

Tsunayoshi's lips twitched into a small smile, the movement catching Mukuro's gaze. "I'm afraid that you are not a part of it, Rokudo-sama."

"Then what am I, Tsunayoshi?"

"A useful tool, if that's what you'd like to hear."

"And was my sweet little sister a tool to you as well?"

Tsunayoshi narrowed his eyes. "Never." He looked away, guilt clear as day in his brown eyes. "She was…never supposed to die."

"I don't believe you," Mukuro said, his voice akin to a whisper.

"Believe what you want if it helps you sleep at night, Rokudo-sama. But I did not send Hibari nor did I expect Nag—"

Mukuro silenced him with his own lips, catching the words almost breathlessly with his own mouth. He drew back slightly to smile, showing some teeth.

"Then let me believe what I want, Tsunayoshi."

He then pressed his lips against the other's again, much rougher and more passionate. He bit the other's lip harshly, eliciting a choked groan, before moving a hand up to grip soft brown hair. Their kiss tasted like salt, iron, and asagao.

October 17, 1531: Namimori, Japan: Hibari Household

Ryohei had perished a week ago from illness. Hana followed her fiancée by hanging herself the day after. Kyoko drank poison the next night. And just like that, the Sasagawa Clan had slowly and silently withered away.

Kyoya had taken the news admirably before retreating to his quarters. Takeshi had come to stay with Kyoya, quiet and with no words to spare. Hayato did not squabble once with the other man, uncomfortable with the other man's silence.

When the three finally came together again that night, Kyoya was the first to speak, startling the other two out of their stupor.

"Everything is strange," he said, his arms crossed against his chest.

Takeshi glanced at him wearily. "What's strange?"

"Mukuro is still alive. I can feel it. His stench is everywhere."

"Hibari-sama," Hayato said, "we already scouted Kokuyo several times. He might have either died from his injuries or ran away to another city. Either way, there has been nothing about him lately."

Kyoya scowled, still unconvinced. Something nagged him at the back of his mind. It was small, but it was there. There was something odd going on and it frustrated him to no end when he couldn't pinpoint the source. Ryohei had always been healthy—too healthy—and the fact that he suddenly became ill and died did not make sense. Hana was also a proud woman and would've not subjected herself to something so low as to killing herself. She was close friends with Kyoko and would never leave her behind to suffer alone. Kyoko was delicate, but she would've had her friend's support if Hana had lived.

Kyoya may not seem to pay attention to others' relationships, but he wasn't stupid at how the herbivores mingled with one another. It was the carnivore's job to observe the pack and then make its decision on how to lure away its prey. This was definitely Mukuro's doing—that herbivore had always been much slyer than the others and did not know the definition of running away. He always came back one way or another and this wasn't any different.

And Kyoya would make sure to end him the next time they meet.

"What are you going to do now, Hibari?" Takeshi said. "Without Ryohei, most of the alliances that he managed to get with the other clans are now null. I could try to convince them otherwise, but they pledged their allegiance to him, not you."

"Do what you can then," Hayato said in Kyoya's place. "Kokuyo is already weak and we can manage the larger territory. Either way, alliances aren't the issue now." He hesitated for a moment before squaring his shoulders and continuing on. "Hibari-sama, I requested an audience with Sora. He told me that he had some information about Rokudo that you would be interested in."

Kyoya bristled. "Why does he know the herbivore?"

Hayato pursed his lips. "Well, he has actually known Rokudo for a while, Hibari-sama. He was one of his customers."

Before Kyoya could say anything else, a servant announced Sora's arrival and opened the door. The young man was wearing a red kimono with a white obi, which was rather odd. He must have come from a celebration of sorts. His face looked a bit duller than usual but his eyes were still bright and full of life. He bowed.

"Good evening, Hibari-sama, Yamamoto-sama, Gokudera-sama."

His voice was still soft and carried the same lyrical lilt. Kyoya momentarily closed his eyes to take in a deep breath.

"Herbivore, why did you serve Mukuro?" he said tersely.

Sora pursed his lips, a reaction that Kyoya did not like. "He was only a client, Hibari-sama. Many of the daimyos are."

"Why did you not tell me?"

Sora furrowed his brows, confused at the sudden question. "I am not obligated to inform you about my clientele, Hibari-sama. Regardless, whatever happens behind closed doors, stays there."

Kyoya clicked his tongue and just sipped his tea to quell his anger.

"Sorry about that, Sora," Takeshi said. "It has been difficult lately, for all of us."

Sora's face softened. "Ah, yes. I am very sorry about your loss." He sighed heavily. "It seems that times are becoming much darker now."

"Everything will be alright, Sora," Hayato said quickly. "If you are under Hibari-sama's protection, you will be unharmed until the wars are over. I'm sure he wouldn't mind."

"Ah, is that why I was also called here?"

"Well, we were just wondering what information you had on Rokudo as well."

Sora smiled slightly. "Oh, about that. I actually met him a few weeks ago."

Hayato choked on his own tea. "W—What?"

Kyoya nearly broke the cup of tea in his hand. "Herbivore."

"He is quite well actually," Sora said, as if he was talking about the weather. "All of his wounds are healed."

"But—But—" Hayato gaped at Sora, trying to find the right words. "Why didn't you tell us, Sora?"

Sora quirked a brow. "I am not obligated to tell you about my clientele. Really, I only accepted your invitation, Gokudera-sama, to send Hibari-sama's his regards."

Kyoya stood up and unsheathed his blade, pointing it dangerously close Sora's neck. "Herbivore, you are lying."

Sora didn't even flinch as Hayato stood up to pacify Kyoya. "I do not lie, Hibari-sama." His lips twitched. "Well, I suppose sometimes I do."

A choking gasp caught Kyoya's attention. Hayato gripped his throat and fell to the ground. Blood gushed from his mouth, splattering the ground. His eyes were wide in disbelief and horror. Before Kyoya could move, a sudden rush of nausea overcame him. His feet stumbled as he tried to regain his balance.

"Herbivore…"

Sora merely pushed his blade away from his neck with a cool gaze. "I quite liked you, Hibari-sama, but you had a rather simplistic way of looking about things."

Kyoya's katana slipped from his grasp as he fell to the ground. A scorching sensation wracked through his body, making him unconsciously convulse. He harshly coughed up blood while his eyes fluttered. His breathing came out labored and ragged, the motion burning his dry throat.

He could see Takeshi move towards Sora, his face so gentle it wanted to make Kyoya scream and lash out in anger. The traitor! How dare he?

Why?

"Rest, Hibari-sama." Sora's voice faded in and out strangely. "Namimori will be in better hands now."

Another cough was his response as black spots danced in his blurring vision. Kyoya didn't know who to be angrier at—Sora or himself.

How could he have believed that he had loved him?

"Now the city that you knew

Has become an empty moor,

From which the evening skylark rises

While your tears fall."

- Ōnin Ki

Historical Facts

1) The one-shot is based around 16th-century Japan, which was an era of civil strife between warlords for control of the nation. It is also known as the Sengoku Period, or the Age of Warring States, and lasted from 1467-1567.

2) A taikomochi was a male geisha and existed since the 13th-century. They both advised and entertained the daimyos. By the 16th-century, they were more known as storytellers and sounding boards for military strategies, even fighting with their lords. They are known to be very witty but also humble to show respect to the daimyos.

3) Camellia is a spring flower in Japan and also known as "tsubaki". It means "humility", "discretion", and "perfect love".

4) Sumire is the Japanese term for violet. It is also a spring flower and means "a small love", "sincerity", and "small bliss".

5) Asagao is the Japanese term for morning glory. It is a summer flower and means "brief love".

6) Momo is the Japanese term for peach. It is a spring flower and means "I am your captive" and "fascinating personality".

7) Engawa is basically a non-tatami-matted flooring, like a wooden porch.

8) Mugicha is a summer drink in Japan. It's basically cold barley tea. During the era of civil strife, military commanders would drink it sometimes as hot tea or mix it with alcohol.

9) Yokai are Japanese demons.

10) Yuki Onna means snow woman. She varies from tale to tale, but is generally a beautiful but serene woman who many encounters in a snowy landscape and ruthlessly kills her victims. The version that Sora tells is purely made-up by the author.

11) Ame Onna means rain woman. She is said to be a Chinese goddess who changes forms between clouds and rain. She is often depicted as a melancholic, lonely woman who quietly comes and go with the rain. The version that Sora tells is purely made-up by the author.

12) The last bit is an excerpt from the Onin Ki, a document that describes the causes and effects of the Onin War. It's classified as a military historical fiction, but is said to have written from a first-person account of the conflict.

Little Notes and Fun Facts

1) Tsuna is a really good actor, haha.

2) He had also poisoned Hibari's tea prior to arriving in his room.

3) Nagi's death was really just an unfortunate accident. Tsuna didn't foresee her death. It was kind of Mukuro's fault for really pushing Kyoya in their fight. Then again, Nagi and Mukuro are the victims here.

4) About the Sasagawa Clan's deaths: Tsuna had Lambo/Hideo slowly poison Ryohei's drinks after seducing him on his birthday. Lambo/Hideo also killed Hana and made it look like she committed suicide the day after Ryohei's death. Kyoko was the unfortunate victim to the chains of events.

5) Tsuna's red and white kimono are prominent traditional colors in Japan. Both colors are used in decorations at events that bring joy and happiness. They're also worn at important ceremonies like weddings, birthdays, and other life events. So, essentially, Tsuna was wearing that to celebrate Takeshi's victory in the end, ahahaha.

A/N Uhh, what a twist…? Ahaha.

Hmm, well, this kind of took a life of its own…? I hope it came out alright though. I found this more difficult to write than the F27 one-shot, haha. Thank you, Nuvola De Demone, for the prompt! I hope you liked my interpretation of it, haha. A secret assassin but not really assassin Tsuna.

So, it all started out pretty fluffy and went dark real fast (sweats nervously). Poor, uh, everyone really, ahaha. Well, except for Takeshi. 'cause he got what he wanted in the end. In other words, Tsuna went around screwing shit up for Takeshi and it all (mostly) worked out in the end. This is basically my way of making it up to the 8027 pairing after the F27 one-shot, lol. Well, I can say that the next prompts are much…happier than this, ahaha.

Thank you so much for reading! Leave a thought or two and a prompt if you'd like! I'm still going through them so don't feel bad if you don't see yours yet. I'm just a slowpoke (and gets distracted easily), haha.

Also, if you've read my Starstruck story, the poll is still up and running on my profile for another day and if you haven't voted yet, I encourage you to do so!

I hope to see you again in the next chapter!

Have a lovely day and happy new year, peeps~

Little Miss Bunny