Foreword: I'm glad to see that I'm still holding everyone's attention! XD Anyway, this chapter marks the beginning of "Part 3" …or rather the last arc of the story, that's right people, no more steady character building—we're headed straight for the climax!

Disclaimer: If I did...in fact, own Katekyo Hitman REBORN! You can best believe that it would not end *Canon SPOILER ALERT* in an absurd manner involving a seemingly thrown together idea of a separate race of humanoid sentient beings who originated the trinisette… Of course…if the series, DID end like that…well then…I guess you can safely say that I have no ownership whatsoever of KHR!

The Nature of the Beast

Chapter Nine: Ahead of Schedule

The lead was a success.

"So it's definite, then?" Tetsuya's voice was gruff with a lack of sleep in the predawn light.

"Yes sir. The tests confirmed it. The blood found on the windshield was definitely Hibari-sama's."

"I see." He twirled the twig between his teeth, his brow furrowed in thought.

"…If I may, sir?"

"Mm?"

"What now?" Nobu's was rather hesitant—unusual for the confident assistant that Tetsuya was used to dealing with.

"Now…now we can finally get some answers." He ended the call with a tap of his thumb. "…I hope." Tucking the phone into his blazer pocket, Tetsuya stepped outside of his black rented Lexus, the settling of his feet marked by the crunch of gravel under foot. His expression was grim as he surveyed the seemingly empty town, but determined no less as his eyes settled on one building in particular.

There weren't any other cars in the vicinity and he figured there were unlikely to be any more within a reasonable stretch of time—which was why he was unsurprised when his stare was met with the suspicious blue-eyed gaze of an elderly man peering from between oddly placed blinds of the only gas station for miles.

With purposeful strides, he made his way to the building, his mind summoning the memory of the phone call that had awoken him a mere hour ago.

"The local authorities deduced that the accident occurred somewhere between 3:30 and 4:15am. Interestingly enough, at around 5:30am there was an odd incident reported in a small town. Supposedly an old man witnessed a rather bloody confrontation involving men in black suits and cars just outside his gas station."

"And just where was this town, Kaoru?"

He could hear the smirk in his rather tenacious subordinate's voice, "About an hour's walk from the crash site. It's a little microscopic place, Hollister."

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When Kyoya awoke that next morning he was both rested, but strangely more exhausted than he'd been in years. To make matters worse, the mutt was back. If he thought him annoying before, he was insufferable now. It was as if the beast could smell Kyoya's recovering health—was aware of his growing status as predator—because every step the woman took it seemed she might trip over the mutt. He was waiting for her to grow tired of it. It wasn't even directly affecting him and even he found it agitating…although to be honest that may have had more to do with the fact that he was beginning to feel crowded.

A scuff and his gaze drifted to his left where the woman—Charlie, he reminded himself with barely concealed apathy—had stumbled in an attempt to correct her almost fall.

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She bit back a growl and slid the slightest of glares—a narrowing of the lids—down at Dakota. He'd been twinning around her all morning. She'd have found the behavior almost cat-like if not for the fact that he was "gently" herding her in some direction or other with the motion. And that direction was always the same: away from Kyoya.

At first she'd been a bit wary, but after discreetly observing her house guest (read: openly staring) several times and witnessed the same blasé demeanor and rude glaring, she determined that he was pretty much the same as she left him the previous night. In which case, she decided that Dakota was just being over protective. Sure, Hibari Kyoya might actually be a threat with his oddly phrased threats and mysterious origins, but she highly doubted it was something she couldn't handle.

Seriously, what could he do? Beat her with his little metal sticks? She snorted at the thought. Yea…right…when the sun shined out of her ass.

Smiling at the imagery, she gave Dakota a withering glance and shuffled to the back of the cabin, easily stepping out of the way of Dakota as he seemed content to simply follow her whenever she put distance between herself and Kyoya. Despite her beloved furred friend's presence she was able to put her houseguest out of her mind as she folded her last load of clothes, that is, until she reached a particular pair of pajama pants. She scowled at them. They were her father's and she was supposed to be reminded of him when she held the cloth…but now she would forever be reminded of how the sleepwear had contrasted against pale skin as it was tightened around narrow hips. Her scowl deepened. She oughtta kill him. He'd tainted a fond memory and made it into something that she found to be just wrong despite the spike in her libido. Releasing a stubborn growl, she forced the image away and hurried through the rest of the clothes.

Pretty much all of the clothes were hers and therefore placed in the dresser near the entrance of her father's old room. The pajamas, however, were to be returned to their box, unlikely to ever see daylight again and that was a crushing fact that she tried hard to ignore. She was still trying to overlook the obvious when she began closing the closet door again, but the glint of metal slowed her actions. Medals. They drew her attention to her father's blues, his formal uniform of a Midnight Blue coat and Sky Blue Trousers. She was sure if she shifted through the layers of fabric she'd find the white cap and matching belt that went with them. Her jaw clenched when her gaze drifted to the left. Hanging on the inside of the closet door, protected by plastic, was a pair of black slacks and a white button down, the black blazer hung over its shoulders, still crisp from the last time he'd ironed them.

Even without the visual reminder of the outfit, she recalled it easily. He'd worn it to her high school graduation. The suit was her father's only formal clothing aside from his uniform. There wasn't a point to purchasing anything else, he once told her, the blues covered everything else. She remembered the sight of him in the audience. She went to school in a small town, so he hadn't been all that hard to spot. He didn't clap and cheer like the other parents when she walked across the rickety outdoor stage, but rather he'd slumped in his fold-out chair and smirked at her. He'd been waiting for her to trip, she remembered, they'd had a bet going. She couldn't recall what it was for. Her reminiscing was cut short, by a sudden snarl from Dakota.

Whirling around, she found her companion at the room's doorway, the fur on his body rising up as he growled at something unseen. Frowning she hurried to his side and he quieted at her approach. Leaning out, she was only mildly surprised to see Kyoya entering the bathroom. Nothing to make a fuss over, really, although she couldn't help but notice that he was far closer to her than necessary—as if he'd entered the bathroom from the kitchen instead of the living room. She stared after him suspiciously. …had he been watching her?

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It hadn't taken her long to realize that Dakota was going to be a problem. He wouldn't leave. Normally, she wouldn't mind him loitering around the cabin unsupervised, but with his recent odd behavior, she just didn't trust him alone with Kyoya. So while she made to jump in the shower, she put a locked door between the two Alpha males. Dakota was unappreciative of this and made it known by whining—which soon turned to howls and furious scratching at the door. Thankfully the noise faded as he seemed to calm down. Kyoya, was as predicted, unaffected and barely even seemed aware of his surroundings let alone cared. And so without a second thought, she gathered her things and moved into the bathroom, shutting and locking the door behind her.

He was still for a long moment, waiting for the sound of an interrupted flow of water to become regular and then his lids lifted, his eyes staring unseeingly at the wooden rafters of the ceiling. Almost imperceptibly, there was a narrowing of his gaze and immediately following the action, a ghostly light was suddenly cast over the room, bathing both the couch, Kyoya's skin, and the duvet that covered his lower half in flickering violet. The source? A furious flame that was being emitted from the ring on his left hand.

He wasn't quite sure why—a gut instinct one might say—but something was telling him to hurry. It wasn't as if he was worried, however, no if anything he was growing impatient. He was both ravenous for bloodshed and thirsting for vengeance. Common sense told him it was only a matter of time, after all, he hadn't exactly been trying to cover his tracks at the time. He'd give them another two days…if they hadn't come to him by then…he'd go looking for them.

No, Kyoya thought as he closed his eyes, he was unconcerned with his pursuers. After all, he was almost ready.

He was just beginning to relax when the scratching started again. Glaring at the office door on the other side of the kitchen, he scowled. The beast's clawing was more furious than before and therefore harder to ignore, but Kyoya made due. However, just as he became efficient at blocking out the agitating sound, the wolf changed tactics. He blinked at the sudden thud and his gaze, once more rested on the door, the rattling handle catching his attention. Almost in disbelief, Kyoya realized he was ramming the door. Determined, he put the sound out of his mind. He'd been on edge since five that morning and he'd be damned if he allowed his fun to be dampened by the limitations of his body. It was only seven minutes later when he was snatched from his concentration by the sound of splintering wood.

The first thing to hold his attention was the office door barely hanging onto the door frame, the upper set of hinges ripped from door frame. The second was the handle and lock still rolling slowly on the kitchen floor. And lastly, and arguably more important was the furious wolf standing a mere three feet away from the foot of the couch in the kitchen doorway. Apparently, the woman hadn't been the only one to overestimate the reliability of the office door. He met the mad stare of the beast, his violet flames reflected subtly in golden eyes. His flames flared with his growing agitation—he wasn't fond of interruptions—and he arched a brow when the creature snarled and shook its head. Is he reacting to the flames? Curious and throwing caution to the wind, Kyoya fed more agitation to his flames and they grew rapidly in proportion. And sure enough Dakota reacted. His eyes widened as the wolf leapt off the wooden floors and surged towards him in one sure movement.

Neither wolf nor man had heard the shower cease its actions, too entranced by the other to pay it any heed and as such, both were caught unaware by the woman suddenly barreling into the wolf. Kyoya was unsympathetic when the woman and her pet slammed into the wood floors unforgivingly, he did however slide his telescoped tonfa beneath the duvet and damper out his flames. Watching her lift herself from the floor, he frowned, he was getting too complacent. She shouldn't have been able to surprise him. He shot a glare towards the wolf. Likewise the animal was already jumping to its feet as if readying for another leap at his throat—his grip tightened on his unseen weapon—but before he could attempt as much Charlie was between them.

"Stop it!" Well, she sounded upset. He couldn't say for sure as her back was to him and instead of studying her face he was made aware of how quickly she must have left the shower. She was tracking water everywhere, her navy blue tank was damp and clinging to her skin in odd directions and there was something about the way her jeans hung on her hips that led him to believe she hadn't even bothered to do them up. It was obvious from the way her hair, weighted with moisture, clung wildly over her shoulders, that that too had been left unattended. "What the hell is wrong with you?" She was still yelling and Kyoya fought the urge to snort at the bewildered wolf.

"Out!" she thrust her hand in the direction of the backdoor and for a moment the wolf stepped towards it, but halted and snarled the moment its eyes landed on Kyoya's form.

"I said go!" She began physically pushing the wolf towards the door now and it stumbled and whined in confusion the whole way.

Minutes later when she returned to the front room, red in the face and pushing wet bangs back from her face, she glared vehemently at Kyoya's mocking expression of amusement. He frowned however, when her glare suddenly became accusatory.

"What the hell did you do?" she didn't yell this time, but rather the way the words hissed from between her teeth, she didn't need to.

Kyoya didn't answer her for a long while, his gaze having shifted to staring in the direction of the wolf she'd sent storming out of the cabin. "Do?" He raised an eyebrow with an almost superior sneer. "I don't believe there's much I could have done from this bottomless pit of a couch."

She growled in frustration as she knew he had to be right, but still her confusion and suspicion persisted, because he must have done something to earn Dakota's wrath. The wolf was defensive of her, yes, but never obsessively so. She was stomping back to the bathroom when he spoke up again.

"The mutt's rather protective of you."

She snorted, "Yea, well, he doesn't need to be. I can protect myself just fine."

"Can you?"

She frowned and turned to meet his gaze. There was something in that look that she didn't like. "Yes. I can. Especially from you."

He gave a derisive snort, a smile touching his lips in amusement as he looked away and allowed himself to lounge back into the couch.

Annoyed at his behavior, she gave him a disgusted look and questioned, "What?"

"Your stupidity-"

"Excuse me?" She cut in with growing agitation.

"…it's funny." He finished, his eyelids closed as if he feared no repercussion for his remark.

She stared at him with wide eyes. A tick near her eye and a twitch in her jaw as her teeth fought to grind. "Ugh!" She growled in frustration and stormed into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

The moment she cleaned herself up, she left the cabin. She was gone for several hours and it was during this time that Kyoya allowed himself to muse over Dakota's actions. They both disturbed and mildly interested him. Basing his opinion purely on observation, it seemed that the wolf was somehow instinctually aware of the danger his flames posed. It was a very interesting idea, but unheard of. Of course, Kyoya reasoned to himself, aside from Hibird, his flames had never been exposed to any non-box weapon animal prior to that moment. In fact, most animals had a tendency to flee the area whenever a battle took place—whether it involved flames or not. Could it be that animals could sense the danger of Dying Will flames?

Putting that thought to the back of his mind, he began channeling his flames once more, unconcerned now that the wolf was out of the cabin and sure that the woman wouldn't be coming back anytime soon. Drifting lower into his conscious mind, he let his flames sink into his skin and flow through him. He needed to be ready. Something was coming, he could feel it.

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Kyoya had been right in assuming that she wasn't returning anytime soon. It was well past dark when she entered the house far quieter than she'd left, still, he wasn't surprised this time. She'd fixed dinner for the two of them and they ate in silence. She appeared calm, but he could still feel the agitation rolling off of her in steady waves. He'd barely set the plate down when it was snatched off the floor, washed and put away. A few minutes later, it was lights out and she crawled into her bed without a word. Her back was to the wall again. He rolled his eyes to the ceiling and gradually allowed himself to fall unconscious.

He was pulled from a deep slumber by a repeating sharp noise. They'd penetrated the murky haze of his subconscious with an alarming familiarity and he opened his eyes just as the last of it sounded. Gunshot. The veil of sleep was completely lifted when the shots were echoed by a symphony of howls. His gaze slid over to his left first, habitually reading the glowing red 3:08am of an alarm clock stationed on the nightstand before landing on the empty bed. His eyes darted to the window where the woman stood, her shadowed figure silhouetted by moonlight. She didn't say anything, but he found it wasn't necessary. He could easily read the tenseness in her shoulders and was very much aware of the tight grip she held on her Beretta. Something was wrong.

She heard him sitting up from the couch and she tilted her head slightly in his direction as if to hear him better. "You have trespassers." She hated that he sounded so sure and…almost amused. Bastard.

Still, she didn't deny his spoken words, but she didn't agree with his unspoken meaning either, "It's probably just hunters. …happens all the time. They cross the fences for better game."

He didn't question her, only snorted and lay back down. She was lying to herself—obviously. He wasn't a marksman, but even he knew that those gunshots were far too close together to belong to a hunter. They were the sounds of a semi-automatic. Semi-automatics were highly impractical for hunting as the precision needed to accurately hit a target from a distance wouldn't be allowed for with a handgun—pardoning only the most skilled of shooters. Momentarily, he wondered how much longer she'd delude herself. To himself, however, he smirked. The scavengers were coming to him. Good. He was itching for their demise.

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She must've window watched for nearly two hours, but as the sun began its ascent into the sky her patience wore thin. Without a word she threw on her clothes, laced up her boots and snatched up her shotgun and Glock, all the while Kyoya's gaze was heavy on her back. Not a moment later, she was heading into the woods and Kyoya closed his eyes.

With practiced ease, he pushed away everything around him, everything but the ring on his finger and the malignant fuel that was his growing annoyance. His prey were close and soon he would deal with them.

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Nearly two hours of seemingly pointless wandering had passed before she stumbled upon what she feared, just around the bend, behind a thick gathering of trees in a sloped clearing. The wolf was on her side, her breath coming in steadily slower and uneven breaths. Her arctic white fur, just beneath her ribs was matted with dried blood and there was a steadily growing pool of crimson at her side muddled by autumn leaves and debris. Lena. She'd been whimpering at an almost inaudible frequency, but as her glazed over eyes landed on Charlie, she stopped and simply watched.

It was reckless of her, but without another thought she hurried to the injured creature's side, uncaring of its possible reaction and ignorant of the bullet holes riddled into a passed by tree. She stopped, however at the sudden sound of a snap behind her. Too heavy to be anything small and she was certain it wasn't a deer or wolf. She didn't hesitate when she spun to face the intruder, but her vision was skewed when she was without warning cracked across the head with the weighted handle of a Desert Eagle. She hit the forest floor, hard.

Dazed, she wasn't sure if only a few seconds or several minutes had passed when a familiar snarl rang out. From the corner of her vision, still distorted though it was, she saw her attacker turn in Dakota's direction. She grimaced, she didn't need to be rescued, and with a snarl of her own she lashed out with a vicious kick to the knee. She heard the sick crunch as the man's knee cap was brutally shifted to the left. He gave a wordless scream as he crumpled and with unconcealed venom he swung his weapon up at her, his finger already on the trigger, ready to be fired. She didn't give him the chance to as she shoved herself from the ground and snatched at the weapon and twisted it away and to the side. He didn't release the weapon willingly and she was forced to ignore the snapping of fragile finger bones.

She muffled his cry of pain with a knee to the gut as she tackled him into the nearest tree with a thud. Outrage still surged in her and before she even realized what she was doing, she slammed her elbow into his temple and stared in mild surprise when he slumped to the ground, unconscious. Her breathing was labored and she still trembled from the unexpected rush of adrenaline when she jerked her head down a ways as she heard what could only be the man's comrades calling out.

She wasn't stupid. These men weren't here for the wolves and they certainly weren't here for her. Kyoya. She sent a fleeting glance at the injured wolf and winced as she turned away. Even if she had the time and the equipment, the creature was already on death's door. The she-wolf had been injured far too long ago. With a heavy heart, she drove the thought from her mind and took off, sprinting the seven miles to her cabin, Dakota on her heels.

No, what was on Charlie's mind was no longer a dying wolf nor was it Kyoya. It was rush of adrenaline through her veins and the realization that she'd done it again. He'd hit her and she attacked in return, a normal enough reaction, but the question was…why…with two firearms on her person had she not simply grabbed one and took aim? Instead she'd acted on her instinct and chosen to inflict physical harm with her bare hands. …just like she always did.

A grey blur shot past her and she frowned as she realized she was slowing. With a guilt ridden cringe she forced herself to forget her current train of thoughts and instead pushed herself to run faster. She didn't really like him much, but somebody needed to tell him that his buddies were here for him. It was a forty-five minute run back to the cabin, but she intended to cut it shorter.

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When she barged into her home, disheveled and panting, she nearly choked at the unexpected sight. Kyoya…standing in front of her grandfather's couch…adjusting the cufflinks of her father's suit. He looked away from his task, his eyes focusing in on her with an annoyed, almost disappointed look, but as his eyes drifted over her form, she no longer knew what to think as a pleased and dastardly smirk spread over his face.

What the hell had she gotten herself into?

Afterword: …Yea…I'm a bastard. So what? XD ahahahahaha

So thanks go to (as always) my number one fan SwallowSword (lol, I'm not kidding, she is. XD), Thespianmoonmuzik …who I want to throttle for getting that damned She Wolf song (by Sia and David Guetta NOT Shakira) stuck in my head, and WhoAmI2Judge07 for actually responding to my PM and giving me their opinion. :D

So yea, there ya go. ^^ Hopefully the next chapter will be up sometime next week at the latest. XD If not…well…I've already given you people all the excuses you'll ever need….so don't expect anymore. :P

Welp! If you'll excuse me now, I'm going to go take a nap, because I have work in a few hours. (Overnight shift. XP)

-S.T.

P.S.

Also, If you notice this isn't up to my usual quality…well…I admit, the editing was quite the rush job. I may come back and fix it later.