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Chapter 7

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Age 10

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I was finding it very hard not to fall asleep. The sun filtering through the windows warmed me up to a comforting temperature, and after a whole morning and afternoon of repainting Kyōya's walls, this ten year old body was ready for a nap.

But I couldn't sleep yet. I had to pick up Kyōko in maybe another hour, then head to the gym to continue my daily routine. "Ne, Kyōya…" I mumbled in hopes of remaining awake. It was working, at least a little. "We should paint my room next…" I nudged his shoulder with the top of my head, strands of his black hair falling on my chin.

"Hn." He grunted, more from the action than my question, and I could imagine him already dozing off, which only made me even more sleepy.

"What do you think about a sun on the ceiling?" I continued, feeling his irritation at me keeping him awake. But I needed him not to fall asleep! If he did, I would too! "Maybe there should be clouds on the walls… and mist along the bottom border…?"

He didn't reply, and I shifted to my side a little, bumping my nose against his cheekbone. "Kyōya…" I said, the name almost coming out in a whine. The boy huffed in annoyance, following my lead and tilting to face me. My eyes traveled down the bridge of his nose to see that his own were half-lidded, and he must have been really tired since our closeness didn't seem to bother him like it normally would.

"What do you think?" I murmured, his nose brushing my eyebrows at his movement.

He grunted, or more actually exhaled. The warm breath tickled my forehead, and I waited only to get no response from the boy. "Kyōya…?" I mumbled, a laugh tugging at my lips in sudden realization.

My left hand dragged against the carpet before stopping to play with the strands of dark hair at the nape of his neck. He was already asleep, and I didn't even get a chance to ask about the other weather patterns that would compliment the walls.

"Kyōya, you little shit…" I breathed, snuggling close enough to have his lips brush my hairline. I ignored the vague awareness of my impending doom if he just so happened to wake up before me, since I was too tired to think about it properly, I'll worry about it later...


Now


What...do I say…? What do I do?

I kept one eye on the too-fast-moving boy heading towards the door, slowly pulling my arms through my track jacket. He shuffled in place near the exit, hands deep in his pockets, half-facing me, as if I warranted only half of his attention.

Which was probably true. Ouch.

"So…" I started, clearing my throat to pierce the sudden awkwardness and suffocating silence. Kyōya glanced at me before returning his glare on a speck near the bottom of the door frame. I became uncomfortable as the air grew thick with tension and began to scratch at my cheek in hopes of relieving the feeling, "You...have claustrophobia…?"

He frowned, glare intensifying, almost hiding behind his fringe, lithe fingers pulling his red scarf to his nose, effectively cutting off a response.

Ugh, little shit. His stubbornness irritated me. But it irked me even more when the lack of response made me shift in place, oblivious on to how continue and earning bouts of some sort of bulkiness inside of my lower abdomen. I only wanted to return to the Ryōhei-rambles-while-Kyōya-pretends-to-ignore-her mood we found to be so comfortable and natural. This...this wasn't natural at all.

And… And it didn't help that the image of a frightened ten year old boy was overriding memories of a cool, impassive, attitude I had come to rely on after my father's death.

Hibari Kyōya did not show fear.

He just didn't.

And yet… I forget that he never had sixteen extra years in his mind to help him.

It shamed me to forget that… He's a ten year old boy.


Then


You have got to be kidding me… "It's locked…" I concluded with a mixture of a sigh and groan, rubbing at my forehead. There was a particular spot near my temple that got the face-slam more than the rest of my face, and I tried to massage the pain away before deeming it irrelevant and impossible.

Face throbbing, I searched my pockets for a key I knew I didn't have, but hoped would miraculously show up in my boxing shorts.

It didn't.

With a harsh grumble, I turned towards the storage closet's cabinets, lips pursing in concentration. There should be another one hanging on the cabinet's door, but if there isn't… I didn't like the idea of sleeping in Extreme Boxing's storage closet. No matter how clean and neat Kyōya and I kept it.

"Ne, Kyōya, there should be a key in the cabinet to your—" I stopped. Flabbergasted.

What…? My eyes tried to process—was that sweat?—collecting at the boy's pale temples. My mind tried battle my rising panic, my throat constricting. "Kyō...ya…?" I prodded, heart beginning to pound as the silence stretched and his body began to tremble.

What—?

His knees buckled, "Kyōya—!" and I wasn't fast enough to catch him. I jarred my knees in dropping to his level too quickly, and placed my hands on his shoulders, gasping at how his shakes vibrated my arms. What the hell?! "Hey! What's wrong? What's—?"

He choked on air, and my heart pounded louder and louder the longer—he was hyperventilating—Oh my god, he's hyperventilating!

Nonono! Don't do this to me! "Kyōya! Hey! Kyōya!" I patted his cheeks, ignorant on how to fix this. What do I do? What do I do? What do I do? "Come on, Kyōya, breathe!" Breathe god damn it! Breathe!"Like this, just like this!" I encouraged, taking deep, over-dramatized breaths to get the point across.

It didn't seem to be helping.

Which only made my panic worse.

What the hell do I do? I had half a mind to just clutch him to my chest and sob and rock and—!

"Kyōya, hey, Kyōya, clutch my hand, clutch how much it hurts!" Distract him, I told myself. Distract him! It was the only thing I could think to do. At the very least, for enough of a time for me to get us out of here.

I just needed five minutes. Five minutes.

Come on, Kyōya!

I inhaled sharply at the sudden pain in my hand. When the feeling registered, I forced myself to exhale, heart pounding at the stillness of breath.

He was clenching my hand.

The relief—THANK GOD—Goodgood, we're getting somewhere—I can do this—What else?What else?What else?—Wait—

"Kyōya." I said, nearly croaking. "Kyōya look at me." My left hand pulled at his chin, fingertips prodding at his closed eyelids. LookatmeLookatmeOpen your eyes! "Look at me!" His long eyelashes fluttered against his cheekbones, don'tpassout don'tpassout don'tpassout and it seemed too long of a time for him to pry his eyes open and look me in the iris.

"That's it." I breathed, gaining some ounce of control in this moment of crisis. "That's how we do it. Just look at me. Just look at me." I tightened my grip in his stiff hand, and the small action spurred another round of pain on my knuckles that made the color return to his cheeks. Good. Good. This is better. Much better.

"Don't look away. Clutch my hand, look at me. Clutch my hand, look at me…" My voice lowered to the point of whisper as I continued the mantra. Bracing myself, slowly, I pulled the gradually-returning-to-normal boy towards the cabinet, never looking away from Kyōya's eyes, walking backwards, stumbling along, heart fluttering in nervousness.

Just a little longerjust a little bit morealmost therealmosttherejust a little longer

We can do this.

My left hand ghosted over the metal surface before finding the handle. I pulled it open, calloused fingers searching for the key, muscles tense in trying not to shake or move too fast, never looking away from Kyōya's eyes, searching behind me, stumbling along, heart fluttering in nervousness.

YES! I quickly shoved the cursed item into my pocket, the tension along the back of my neck lessening slightly. Now I needed to get to the door…

"Don't look away. Clutch my hand, look at me. Clutch my hand, look at me…" I chanted, pulling Kyōya towards the door, his spine straightening and breaths evening out. Goodgood, he's getting better. I paused, arm bending in an awkward angle to reach the lock behind me. I continued my mantra, teeth grinding as I struggled with inserting the key, shoulder blade aching the longer it took to accomplish this. It didn't help that my frustration wasn't helping my frazzled feelings at the moment.

ComeonComeongoingoin, or else KyōyaKyōya'llnonono, Kyōya'll

Click.

Thank god.


Now


I turned off the lights, stuffing the gym keys back into my duffel bag. I didn't look away from the more-than-usual-silent boy as I swung the strap over my shoulder, walking towards him at a leisurely pace. He waited with an agitation that scared me a little, the snow collecting on his shoulders as he waited for me to lock up.

We didn't speak as we walked home, the gray sky uncharacteristically gloomy over our heads. The irony…

He had caught me by surprise.

I mean… the great Hibari Kyōya: the Demon of Namimori, owner of many more impressive titles, he…he was…

Claustrophobia?

The worst part of it was that it made sense. His room at home had large windows, and he was almost always found on the rooftop. He had a habit of strolling the hallways constantly, something that now gave the impression of clear hallways and escape routes. He also, always refused going down in the basement, and always asked me to get things from the closet for him.

Something I had never took note of before.

I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye, and was astounded to see a look of anger and shame? Was that embarrassment? on his face?!

"How?" I found myself asking. He frowned, jaw clenched, gray eyes glaring into the winter air. I waited patiently, because he had always been bad with words. It was one of the first things I learned about him.

"Namimori Shopping Center." He answered, and didn't elaborate.

Then… "With Mama Suzume?"

A pause, before, "Hn."

And I suddenly understood. He had gotten lost in the crowd at Namimori Shopping Center, most presumably during a large sale. Just thinking about a kid...surrounded by so many people...pressed in on all sides...breathless, fearful…unable to find his mother...maybe even tears in his eyes…calling out to her...hearing her speak his name...unable to reply due to the shortness of breath in his lungs...how scary it must have been...

And his hate of crowds suddenly made sense too.

Kyōya… I was suddenly tired, and ashamed at my selfishness. I want— "Do you remember...what you did whenever I was scared?" I mumbled, and he didn't answer. I hesitated for a moment, because this would be the first time I would initiate it, not just for me, or for us, but just for him.

I raised my left hand to take his right, but he quickly stepped away, creating a moderate gap I couldn't help but compare to a vast canyon.

I immediately hated that space.

Come back— "Kyōya—"

"I don't need—"

"Need my comfort?!" I interrupted, growing angry. I inhaled slowly, the sound loud in the echoing silence. "Tell me Kyōya." I said, voice low and heated. I took two large steps towards him, forcibly taking his hand in my own, tightening my grip as his shoulder recoiled. "Do you think being there for each other is we—" Crack. "—ak?" I exhaled, rolling my tongue around in my mouth, catching the loose tooth against my left cheek. I spat out the molar he had loosened with the head of his tonfa, ready for the next blow, but continuing my rant. "You were totally fine comforting me, but when it's the other way around you—"

"I don't need—"

"That's bullshit, Kyōya!" I yelled, glaring. "And you know it!"

I stepped closer, tense for the next self-conscious bash, the head of his tonfa heavy against my diaphragm. "Why won't you let me be there for you too? You're not the only one who can be a form of support!"

I waited for a response, even though I knew I wouldn't get one. I knew him well enough to know what he was thinking. He didn't even need to say it out loud.

And his reasoning made me so angry.

"Do you think…" I began, tongue brushing against the raw flesh of my tooth bed, "that receiving your comfort has made me weak? Makes me weak?"

Silence.

I want—! "Answer me!" I yelled, crushing his fingers in my grip. He didn't react to the pain, but continued to stare into my eyes, faint emotions swirling in his own, mind trying to make sense of my words.

I just want— "...No." He said, retracting his tonfa, looking away.

"Then?" I breathed weakly, so so tired. I had kept him all to myself. Selfishly. I had more experience than him, yet I was the one depending on the comfort of another.

I always seem to forget...just how young Kyōya is…

I just want— "Let's go home," I murmured, looking away and relaxing my fingers against his. I stepped close enough to press our shoulders together, our steps in sync as always.

I want

It was slow. The return of the Ryōhei-rambles-while-Kyōya-pretends-to-ignore-her mood we found to be so natural. But it came. Eventually, I was rambling and he was grunting appropriately again, and everything was normal. So blissfully normal.

The pad of my thumb brushed along the bridge of Kyōya's thumb, the faint blush of contentment on his cheekbones making me laugh. He quickly retaliated with physical movements, my sarcastic cries for help fading to delightful laughs.

Good. He was getting used to the idea of me being there for him too.


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Omake: How They Met

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"Tadaima!" I called, slipping off my shoes and throwing my duffel bag into the corner. No reply came, but I walked further into the house anyway, spotting a familiar silhouette through the thin paper door. "Kyōya!" I slammed the sliding door open, "I'm back! A proper response would be—" I stopped, dramatic entry pose still in place. "Uh…" I trailed off, grin disappearing, wondering if the absolutely perfect comment on the tip of my tongue should leave my lips.

Dot. Dot. Dot.

Yup. Going for it.

"Kyōya, you're an extreme sadist aren't you?"

Clank.

"Holy shit!" I screeched, hands flying to my chin. "Kyōya!"

Totally worth it.

Conveniently Appropriate Time Skip

"Haha. Sorry about that." I apologized, lessening the pressure on his cheek. The cotton ball smoothly applied the appropriate amount of disinfectant before I continued, "I didn't know Kyōya had friends other than me, so it was just a surprise."

The boy blushed modestly, gray eyes falling to the ground. He played with his hands, the content look on his face contradicting his sharp features. "We're not friends." Kyōya stated bluntly, causing the short boy's ears to turn red and hunch his shoulders in embarrassment.

"Kyōya!" I frowned at the composed boy, the little demon sipping his tea without a care in the world.

The fact that Hibari had even brought a small, wiry thing into this house was statement enough as it was.

"Don't listen to him." I said, rolling my eyes for emphasis. "He's a tsundere." Clank. "Oi!" I yelled, rubbing at my temple as I glared at the little menace. "I already have my hands full healing his injuries, don't add me to the work load!"

When he didn't reply, I turned away with a, "Tch." finishing the bandage on the scrawny boy's cheek. "There we go." I said, sitting back on my heels and packing away the first aid kit.

"Thank you very much…" He mumbled, pants fisted at the knee. I waved at the air, dismissing his comment. "Don't worry about it." I said, "Kyōya's always kicking my ass, so I'm pretty good at bandaging people up. On the other hand…"

I brought out said ligament, giving the nervous boy a wide grin. "My name's Sasagawa Ryōhei. I'm a boxer, and Kyōya's extreme childhood friend."

He fidgeted a little before wrapping my hand with his own. They were surprisingly soft and the same size as mine, the skin pale and unblemished. A stark contrast against mine. "Nice to meet you, Sasagawa-san…" He murmured, peeking at me through the long trunk that was his pompadour. "My name's Kusakabe Testuya…"

Kusakabe, huh...? Wait. Sasagawa-san? "Just call me Ryōhei. No need to be so formal." I teased, grin widening at the stuttering mess he became.

"Then...please call me Tetsuya…"

"Okay, Tetsuya." I grinned, a fierce blush causing steam to escape his ears.

I was going to have too much fun with him.

"Hm? What was that?" I asked, unable to catch his mumbles.

"Ryōhei-san…" He tried again, voice considerably louder. "...is very beautiful…"

Eh?

Beau...tiful?

And then it clicked.

Slowly, almost painstakingly, a blush bloomed along my cheeks. D-Did he…? Heat encompassed my neck. Wh-Wha…? I could handle insults. They were frequent and biased and poorly made and based upon my physical strength and my masculinity and my lack of femininity and being a monster for surviving Hibari Kyōya, but—

Compliments? I never got them. It was less than rare for Sasagawa Ryōhei to receive such a thing. Almost an impossibility since I was always around Kyōko and Kyōya (who's been breaking hearts since the age of eight).

Now that I thought about it… when was the last time someone other than Kyōko and Leilei Suzume, gave me a compliment?

Before I had followed my father into the boxing world..?

I began to fidget in my seat when I realized this, suddenly embarrassed yet happy and feeling surprisingly flattered and flustered. I played with a long strand of my fringe my father had always tugged endearingly, avoiding Kusakabe's gaze in modesty. "Really?" I murmured, strangely feeling the need to hear it again. The word coming out of my mouth was soft and gentle and definitely unlike my usual tone. I peeked at the taller male through my eyelashes, and he was smiling at me, bashfully, but it still made me blush harder in embarrassment.

"Ah," He agreed, looking sincere with that smile on his face. "Ryōhei-san is—"

Tonfa'd.

"Kyōya!" I yelled in shock, trying to stop my childhood friend from pummeling the already broken male.

"Oh my… you need to step up your game, Kyōya. It seems Ryōhei-chan's becoming popular with the boys…" Leilei Suzume sighed from the doorway, fanning herself with a paper fan.

"Ack! How long have you been standing there?!"

"Mou, and I already picked out my grandchildren's names too…" She continued, ignoring me.

Oh god, I don't think I'll ever get used to her playful side.

"Shouldn't you be extremely concerned about what's happened back here!" I shrieked over my shoulder.

"I'll bite you to death."

"Wait—!"

Clank.


Thanks to:


Dustflame (haha, does this elaborate a little then?), little101 (oh my god, your review made me laugh so hard), DaughterofDemeter123 (mmm~ i like the idea of her getting it from her father better, though), Allykrau (haha, thanks!), BrokenAria (haha, thanks, i always love reading your reviews), MusicOfMadness (thanks, he was one of my favorites, but it needed to happen), Sweetly Staring (haha, thank YOU), Onesmartcookie78 (what do you think about the test run then? the omake? was it a good amount of 'extreme'?), chibianimefan26 (hey there~), Not-Gonna-Update (thanks for the review! i appreciate it!), roYaLAnemone11 (oh my god, i laughed so hard when i read this), Jessy (welcome back! thanks for the review!), chibi-no-baka (i feel as if Ryōhei would be so mad at herself, she wouldn't grieve but blame herself), Singular Poisonous Ashes (thanks a lot!), Guest (the summary was a gift from MissEccentricWriter. all of your points are explained in the first chapter. go read it if you're confused), Kenny (missing five),Shaylina1324 (haha, thanks a lot!), xenocanaan (uh...here you go?)


Hey.

little101-san sent me a PM and asked whether I'll be updating or not, and I laughed so hard because I had just been complaining to my sister about the same thing.

But! In all seriousness! I will not stop writing. Ever.

On to other topics,

I feel as if this chapter is kind of degraded (and rushed) compared to the last one... The first part was my attempt to describe Hibari and Ryōhei in a position similar to The Fault in Our Stars movie poster.

I read the book. Didn't make me cry. Haven't watched the movie yet. Should I?

So...How did I do?

Was a character OOC? I feel as if Hibari will become OOC the longer I tamp with him... and the Omake was a test run for the habit of 'extreme.' Should I continue?

Ugh! I can't wait for canon to start! I have so many scenes in my head!

Hey, hey! Did you guys know Ryōhei is shorter than Hibari? ASDFGHJKL! I was lead to believe Hibari was the shortest guardian! Wh-What?

And it's by only one centimeter!

Ugh!

School started and I'm swamped, so updates will slow down. I'm planning on the latest once a month, the earliest maybe twice a month or two weeks?

We'll see.

Please review~!

—prince