A/N. This fic has been in the works for years now. When I first wrote it, I was still in high school. I'm currently in my second year of uni. I've put off publishing this, because it's far from perfect, but I guess it's now or never. If there any mistakes, anything cringey or snooze-worthy, let me know in a review so I can fix it and give you guys the best possible outcome!

Enjoy.


I

Of Introductions and Disruptions

The first time she met Sawada Tsunayoshi, he stripped down all the way to his boxers and tackled two men to the ground.

It happened as she was hurrying to the school, similarly tardy students spread out around her. A slice of bread was stuffed into Tsubame's mouth—she didn't even have time to toast it!—as she quickened her pace. The bell was going to ring soon, and she was cutting it close.

Damn it, couldn't her parents have at least given her a working alarm clock before they abandoned her? Shipping her off to another town without all the necessities… How very like them.

Tsubame's preoccupation with her grumblings made her blind to her surroundings. Too little too late did her ears pick up the thundering footsteps, and realisation quite literally slammed into her. With a grunt, she crashed into the harsh gravel.

"Ow! What the hell?!" barked a voice, and Tsubame couldn't help but think the same. "Watch where you're going, girl!"

Um, what?

Tsubame picked her sore body up from the dusty ground. She shot a glare at the battering ram of a boy as she adjusted her glasses, which had managed to survive the fall. "You realise you were the one who knocked me into the ground, right?" she said coldly. "Or is your pea-sized brain unable to comprehend that?"

Oops. Bad idea. Tsubame snapped her mouth shut, but it was too late – the damage was done. Even half a country away, she could hear her mother's nagging reprimands and feel her dad's disapproving gaze.

While the thug's face turned as red as his shirt, his friend behind him sniggered. Tsubame wondered if he was trying to imitate a brain-dead seal. "Look at her," he snorted, pointing a fat finger in her direction. "The little girl thinks she can talk like that and get away with it."

Little girl? She was fourteen and, judging by their crumpled uniforms, even from the same school as them. Though her lips were pursed to prevent a slew of insults pouring forth, Tsubame couldn't help but glower.

Red sniffed. "You could have seriously hurt me, brat. Apologise!"

Tsubame's lips curled. "Make me," she said, before she realised it. Ah, crap. She probably deserved the smack-down coming her way any time now.

The two bullies grinned. "My pleasure," said Red.

Tsubame's body tensed in preparation. Even as Red took a step towards her—really? She was only worth the one opponent?—she couldn't help but think of her thick-headed parents, who had duped themselves into believing their fourteen-year-old daughter was capable of living on her own in a tranquil town such as Namimori. There was less violence, less ill-will than the districts in Tokyo. She wanted to laugh at the irony.

Speaking of her parents…

Even as Red grabbed a fistful of her shirt, his hand grazing her chest (gross), Tsubame managed to maintain her impassive expression. "Assault can lead to a maximum sentence of two years in prison," she informed them, reciting a line she had long since memorised. "You'd be expelled in no time."

Red faltered for a second before shrugging. "You won't tell anyone," he assured her, as he reared back his arm to give her a solid punch. Tsubame barely had time to think, 'Well, shit' before her cheek exploded with pain.

It ended as abruptly as it began.

As Tsubame heaved herself onto her hands for the second time in two minutes, she thought she heard someone scream, "Reborn!" followed by the tearing of fabric, oddly enough. It might have been the ringing in her ears, though.

She looked up, and things got even weirder. A boy clad in nothing but orange boxers shot towards the bewildered delinquents with the ferocity of a mad lion. "Teach them a lesson as if I were about to die!" he roared over the cowed screeching of the other boys, who soon crumpled to the ground as the exhibitionist dispatched them with a punch to the gut and a kick to the jaw, respectively.

"What…the hell?" she muttered, getting to her feet.

The boy turned, and Tsubame should have been terrified that she now had the attention of someone strong enough to take out two others without breaking a sweat. But, for some reason, she didn't feel wary in the least. Maybe she had a concussion. That would explain why she saw a flame flickering on his forehead. She blinked, but the fire was gone. Yep – definitely a concussion.

The half-naked boy took half a step towards her. "A-Are you okay?" he asked, large brown eyes lingering on her wounded cheek.

Tsubame winced. The shock of the situation faded, allowing her to feel the intense throb in her face. She managed a curt nod at the brunette, who was so timid and shy that Tsubame couldn't help but wonder if she had just imagined what took place. But, no, the groaning of the semi-sentient bodies to the side reassured her that it was all real.

"Um, I—I'm late!" The boy clutched his head, as if realisation suddenly struck him. "Hibari-san is going to kill me!" And then he took off, the bizarre boy in boxers, his sudden terror seizing hold of him and causing him forget all about Tsubame and her previous predicament.

After a slight pause, Tsubame shook her head – and immediately wanted to slap herself because of that pain that exploded from a cheek as a result of the small action. But that was nothing compared to her damaged pride.

She followed after the scrawny boy, who was nothing but a blur now. Tsubame tried to erase all the thoughts terrorising her mind, which was exceedingly difficult since her inner mind theatre seemed intent in replaying the scenario again and again.

"What just happened?" she murmured to herself, head spinning. Whatever the answer may be, Tsubame knew one thing for sure – her life in Namimori was not going to be peaceful in the least. She wasn't sure how she felt about that.

Several minutes later, as she reached the school gates, Tsubame still didn't know what to make of it all. The best explanation she could come up with was that Boxer Boy—for lack of actual name—was simply an escapee from a nearby mental asylum or some sorts. It wouldn't surprise her if this allegedly quaint town had such a facility.

Tsubame glanced up at her new—and hopefully momentary—school. Namimori Middle was nice, she supposed, but nothing too impressive compared to the schools she had attended.

Her lack of awe was also probably due to the fact that this was her second time here. The first was when she had collected her uniform and handed in her paperwork. Nothing much had changed in the little time she had last been here; the trees were still shrivelled up and struggling to bloom, the fading paint job was in dire need of a new coat, and – wait. There was something new after all.

Or should she say someone? Because that someone was stationed at the front, reclined against the wall like a lazy cat. He turned towards her as she approached, silver-blue eyes narrowing.

"You're late," he kindly informed her.

She managed a shrug. "I'm new to this town and got lost."

The boy scrutinised her, as if searching for hints of dishonesty in her half-truth. It was unlike when the delinquents scanned her over, she noted; this boy's gaze was much more calculating and unfeeling.

If she knew it was going to be this troublesome, she should have simply told the truth – she had run into some trouble. He probably deduced as much from the way his icy eyes lingered on her sore cheek. Still, she doubted that someone as official-looking as him would be too impressed with the new student getting into a fight on her first day.

Tsubame tried to restrain herself from fidgeting. The playful smile he was wearing didn't help. It reminded the teen of her cat after he had devoured her mother's canary. And then Nyanko was put down…

He was the first to end the rigid silence.

"Fine," he said. "Because of your circumstances, I'll excuse you for today. But if there is a repeat of your tardiness, then…" He smile grew sinister. "I'll bite you to death."

Despite the warning bells shrieking in her mind, Tsubame forced herself to lock eyes with the boy before her. He was threatening her? Fine, then. But she wouldn't take it lying down.

Victorious triumph shot through her as a frown flickered onto his features. "Class?" he asked, turning to the school.

Tsubame hesitated. Why was he helping her? When his gaze sharpened at her delay, she murmured, "1-A."

He nodded once, eyes hooded and posture slumped, as he led the way into her prison. Tsubame breathed in the only bout of fresh air she would receive in a while before following him.

She had to power-walk to keep up with his long strides. He probably didn't care if she could keep up, and definitely wouldn't adjust his speed to suit her needs. Even with her quickened pace, Tsubame was still a ways behind him. Damn her short legs.

Her eyes strayed to the red armband pinned to the sleeve of his sleek black blazer. She adjusted her glasses as she struggled to read the emblazoned gold inscription.

Before she could stop herself, she asked, "What does your armband say?"

His swift pace faltered for a second before he continued, as if she hadn't spoken. Silence reigned, and when it became clear he wasn't going to reply, Tsubame scowled. She was so focussed in burning a hole in his back that she only just realised they had passed the classroom. The bastard didn't even stop.

To thank him or not to thank him? He had gone out of the way to assist a stranger like her, but could she actually label that as 'assistance'? Her mental debate was cut off by an abrupt, "Discipline."

She stared at the boy in black, who was pinning her with a curious stare. "It says 'discipline'."

Well, that decided that.

"Thank you," she practically shouted, for he was turning the corner. Maybe he wasn't such a bad person after all.

"All debts must be repaid," he replied.

Never mind.

All her excitement for the day must have been used up that morning, because the next few hours were a complete bore. As she was introduced to them, her classmates greeted her with mild curiosity, which sharpened almost palpably when they noticed the wound on her face. Tsubame had defended herself from their probing gazes by flicking her ponytail to the front, draping it over her left shoulder and shielding that side of her face from view.

But that barely deterred them. Come break, a handful of her classmates congregated around her like flies to honey. Their incessant buzzing was cut off when Tsubame simply stared at them, refusing to play their game. They dispersed quickly enough after that.

The moment the lunch bell rang, Tsubame bolted out of the classroom so quickly she wouldn't have been surprised if she left a smoking trail in her wake.

Seriously, how big was this school?

Her shoes tapped against the ridiculously shiny tiles, echoing over the din of scribbling pens and drawling of teachers from the classrooms she passed by.

Not only were floors spotless, so were the walls. Unlike her previous school, there was hardly any graffiti decorating the walls, and barely any trash littering the hallways. It was eerie. The longer Tsubame traversed the halls of Namimori Middle, the more she felt the immaculate white walls were closing in on her.

The rest of the morning passed by uneventfully. People finally stopped gawking at her every few minutes, and the workload wasn't too unbearable. Her mind wandered back to the mildly dangerous encounters in the hallway and on the roof. If the delinquents were less cowardly, and Discipline Man slightly more vicious, she would still be in the nurse's office, prostrate and unconscious.

Tsubame was no combatant. She had a vague knowledge of a few moves that could stun an opponent long enough for her to flee, and she was also familiar with a gun. But neither of those factors would assist her in the long run, since a) her blows landed as much of a hit as a feather did and b) getting her hands on a gun was out of the question. The only weapon she really had was her head.

A shrill ring of the bell declared the commencement of lunch. Tsubame reclined in her seat, silently thanking whatever deity was out there that the first half of the day had ended. With her head tilted toward the ceiling, she didn't notice the two girls approach her desk until one of them released an "Ahem".

Tsubame snapped towards the source of the noise, her neck cracking with whiplash. Someone had actually bothered to approach her? She needed to increase the intensity of her glares.

But it turned out her iciest stare would be no match for the girl before her. Short hair rarely worked well for teenage girls, but this one wore it flawlessly. Her large eyes were the same shade of caramel as her pixie-like hair, and her smile was dazzling. Tsubame found herself subconsciously shrinking back, her mind hissing about the blinding brightness that this girl radiated.

"Hello," she said, her voice tooth-achingly sweet. Tsubame felt a cavity developing somewhere in the back of her mouth. "My name is Sasagawa Kyoko. It's nice to meet you, Kishino-chan."

"I'm Kurokawa Hana." Too late did Tsubame catch sight of the girl slightly behind and to the right of Sasagawa. But could anyone fault her? The Sasagawa girl's mere presence threatened to reduce Tsubame to ashes.

Silently wondering what on earth they wanted, Tsubame nodded in greeting. At the gesture, Sasagawa's smile widened. Tsubame grimaced in response.

"Since you're new, Kishino-chan," began Sasagawa, "and you don't really know anyone, would you like to have lunch with us?"

A pause. Then a blink. Was she… Was she trying to befriend her? Deep down, Tsubame was touched at the gesture. But as she gazed at Sasagawa's allegedly sweet countenance, she was suddenly bombarded with memories best left repressed.

She didn't want to entangle herself with all that again. Because the more she delved into the fragile bonds of friendship, the tighter she would be bound and, in the end, the cords would strangle and suffocate her.

"No," she whispered, lowering her eyes. "Thank you for the offer."

Without another word or even another glance, Tsubame left the classroom, clutching her bag to her side. She swept through the building, the sight of wide caramel eyes burning into her mind.

Hibari Kyoya vowed to never fully let his guard down. Not when he was eating, not when he was bathing, not even when he was sleeping. And his senses were definitely on high alert as he soaked in what little sunshine there was, the sky mostly overrun with clouds. Even though it was his territory, he was unable to relax completely. Someone could have waltzed in while his defences were lowered, spotted his recumbent position, and taken advantage of it. Then again, anyone fool enough to employ this tactic would find themselves in an uninhabited island somewhere off the coast of Australia.

He hadn't been aware of such exposure until this morning. Like a mouse, the transfer student had strolled right onto the roof, acting as though she owned the place. Were Hibari asleep, he would have been ignorant of her appearance. As it was, he had barely heard her enter.

It was a fluke, he told himself. He was feeling particularly groggy this morning, and this girl was in no way an active threat, so she had slipped beneath his radar.

But flukes didn't occur twice.

An audible (though it was partially muted thanks to the rowdy herbivores below) crunch jolted Hibari out of his reverie. His senses narrowed in on the source within a second, and he wasn't surprised to discover that it was the same girl from before. She sat on the other side of the roof, nibbling on her apple half-heartedly.

With every bite she took, his irritation grew. No one should have dared to situate themselves on the roof and casually have lunch there – especially when they were in his very presence. It seemed he had to teach this mouse a lesson. And Hibari made an excellent teacher.

The clouds overhead obscured the sun completely, darkening the grounds. The Head of the Disciplinary Committee gracefully swooped down and towards the oblivious girl. Her back was to him, but even as he stood directly behind her, she showed no sign that she had noticed him.

"Herbivore."

No response. Hibari hitched his glare up a notch.

"Hey."

The girl finally started. She whipped her head around, her ponytail slammed against his leg. Hibari growled softly.

The girl stared up at him, her eyes dull beneath her glasses. Hibari scowled. Anyone else would have flinched and backed away, fear flooding their eyes and anxiety clawing at their insides. They would be fleeing from him, all the while screaming apologies.

This girl did not. She hardly reacted. Part of Hibari wanted her eyes to ignite with the same obstinacy she displayed earlier that day, when they first met. It was vexing, true, but anything was better than the dead pools of ink he was gazing at.

The girl lowered her head, as most would. But she did not do so out of distress – it was out of disinterest. Like he wasn't worth her time.

"This is the second time in one day you've disturbed my peace," he hissed venomously.

The veiled threat did not disturb the girl. "Is that against school rules?"

Hibari frowned, recalling the similar words he had uttered an hour or so ago. "No," he admitted reluctantly. "But it's my territory." Unfortunately, he wasn't aware of how pathetically petulant his defence was until the deed was done.

"I don't see your name anywhere."

Was he like a noisy dog in her eyes? All bark and no bite? Hibari's frustration bubbled beneath his skin. With a flick of his wrist, his tonfas materialised in his hands. He was itching to blow off some steam, and this herbivore was the perfect target.

Before he could strike, the girl released a sigh. "Then again, it is your place," she mumbled, mostly to herself. "Sorry."

She started to rise, and Hibari turned away, shielding his expression. "Whatever," he said dismissively, his tonfas disappearing from whence they came. "Do as you wish. But don't make a single sound. If you do, I'll bite you to death."

If she had apologised like a coward, sniffling and scrambling away like the others, he would have definitely sent her to the hospital. As it turned out, this girl was full of surprises.

"Thank you," she said softly.

Hibari grunted.

The clouds finally parted, revealing the smiling sun and painting the world with dazzling light. The fog in Tsubame's eyes cleared and her heart became lighter. She watched the fallen angel return to his spot, wondering what his name was. She would have asked, but the 'no noise' rule was fresh in her mind like a recently-inflicted wound, and she was not about to massage it with salt.

Replacing her half-eaten apple with a book, Tsubame ignored her unsatisfied stomach and began to read. She turned each page with the same caution one would use to diffuse a bomb, wary of waking the snoozing dragon. And slowly, very slowly, Tsubame began to relax.