A/N: I don't own KHR or any of its characters.

I look at the two children in front of me - unnaturally quiet. They'd gotten into some quarrel about Kyoya's missing pencil case - That was it. So simple minded at times - sometimes I forget they are just children. Of course, it is just the tipping point they needed since they'd been at each other's throat since day 1.

Both itching to leave their seats. But in my house, my rules.

Hatsu makes the first impatient move, as usual - "Can I leave for school now? I'm done with my breakfast."

"You know the rules, no one leaves their seat until the last person finishes their plate."

"But Kyoya eats soooooooooooooooo slow ughhhhhhhhhhhh."

Kyoya of course slows his chewing in response. "Shoveling food down your throat like a barbarian hardly counts as eating."

"God you're such a pretentious fuck -"

"Hatsu." I warn.

"Sorry Chieko-sama… what I meant to say was -" she turns to Kyoya "you're such a pretentious FUCKING shrimpy bastard. You have the emotional AND intellectual capacity of a pebble and your face looks like a smashed snake."

Haha, kids...

"WHAT!?" Kyoya stands suddenly from his chair, ready to attack.

"You heard Chieko-sama, no one leaves their SEAT until the last person finishes their plate." She eyes Kyoya, out of his seat.

He retakes his seat with vigor.

And to her credit, he finishes his breakfast in one bite.

Hatsu immediately bursts from her seat - "ThanksforbreakfastI'mofftoschoolnow!" she shouts in a flurry, already halfway out the door.

Kyoya rolls his eyes, dabbing lightly at his mouth.

"Does she really have to stay the whole year?" he turns to me with a frown.

"I thought you wanted to learn a thing or two from her while she's here."

His scowl deepens.

"Learn from her? She might have some fighting capabilities, but she's nothing like US."

"Is that so bad?"

He quiets, thinking for a moment.

"You know, when I married into the Hibari family, I was the the outsider."

His eyes soften - "I know… but you're different."

I smile at him, straightening his shirt collar slightly.

Of course I know Obaa-san sees potential in her. It's obvious in her allowance into our home. We had never had any long-term guests - hardly even any short-term guests. But I can't fathom what this scrawny little girl has that intrigues Obaa-san. She constantly runs away as if running is the only thing she can do. Running away is for Herbivores.

I glare at her angrily. I don't understand her at all. Even as much as I watch her, the puzzle pieces don't fit together. Why won't she fight me if she's confident she'll win? Why doesn't she excel in school if she's capable? And why the hell is she running away if she can fight?!

My fist clenches, crumbling my notebook paper in the process. The more I think about her, the more annoyed I become.

Is she even worth watching?

He's mad at me. I mean, he's always mad, so that's nothing new. But this time, the anger borders on hate - or disapproval. I can tell in the tension in his shoulders and the deeper breaths that curve his back. Yet he - surprisingly - won't look at me. It's a fuming that requires him to ignore my very existence.

What could have triggered this you might ask? He accused me of stealing his pencil case. Sure, it was really fucking adorable with a plush porcupine figure. I will admit to eyeing it more than once… and maybe touching it... but I wouldn't TAKE it. What use do I have for his pencil case? I have one pen at my desk and that's all I need. I don't even have an eraser. Or markers. Or any other thing you'd find in a pencil case.

So of course I told him to fuck off and that he lost it because of his own stupidity. Things escalated pretty quickly after that.

But STILL, this anger seems so severe for just a missing pencil case. No, it's not just that…

He's finally made up his mind about me: disapproval, through and through.

And disapproval is always followed quickly by disregard.

I sigh. Maybe now I can finally get some peace and quiet.

Sure, part of me wants to comprehend the inner workings of a violent sociopath - I'm sure it would be a fascinating case study. But on the other hand, this is KYOYA. Crazy, herbivore-obsessed, Kyoya. And unlike Dario, he's not so easy to manipulate to my desires.

I turn my attention back to Mr. Onazuka and I don't know why at ALL, but I have the slightest pang in my chest. I should be completely relieved - now I'll be able to explore Namimori at my own pace and with my own direction. I won't have this incessant shadow following me every which way. And most importantly, I'll be able to keep an eye on HIM… my Otouto... without worrying about Kyoya finding out.

RING. RING. RING.

The school bell chimes and everyone clamors to leave.

I glance at Kyoya, who markedly ignores me.

"HATSU-CHAN DON'T -" Mr. Onazuka starts to reprimand me, but sees I'm not running out like usual "- oh, well no running later."

"Hai." I respond, exiting the classroom at a normal, and extremely foreign, pace.

I walk out the school gates, immediately heading to the kindergarten where I know he'll be.

Taking the quicker route, I walk off the main road. My mind is admittedly elsewhere, but I promise myself not to look back to see if Kyoya is following - only out of curiosity.

And then, amidst the loud clamor of school children, there is the faint sound of heavy footsteps - trying to be stealthy - shuffling through tall grass. The footsteps are too heavy to be Kyoya.

Large hands are suddenly in front of my eyes - I duck, but land messily in the loose dirt.

Three men tower over me, very conspicuously donning shades and black suits.

"Come with us quietly and we won't hurt you."

Right, like I could trust the words of my attackers...

I flip up, head-butting one in the process. He staggers back.

"What the -"

But I don't hesitate. Hesitation is the first predecessor of defeat. I leap toward him, landing a solid right hook straight to the eye. His sunglasses shatter, flying off his head.

The other two are quick to react, encircling me from either side in practiced unison. My eyes narrow - these guys are no joke. The one on the left is 6'4", built like a tank. His movements aren't necessarily agile, but they are certainly well-trained and well-used. The on the right is 6'1", only a few inches shorter, and all lean muscle.

"Don't go easy on her, she's trained." One instructs to the other. He nods in affirmation.

I take a calming breath in. "What do you want?"

"Our young Miss just wants a little chat with you."

He doesn't skip a beat, swinging at me. I'm pushed back by the sheer force, despite blocking in time. The heavier-set one grabs both my arms, looping them behind my back. I twist forward, knocking his jaw with my feet and loosening his hold. He drops me to the ground, but the position is hardly advantageous and they are quick to assume their positions again. The third man staggers up as well, completing the circle.

Shit.

A/N: Progress!