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Chapter 8

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Age 11

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Bzzt. Bzz— I snatched up the phone with a sharp inhale, blurry vision quickly glancing at a sleeping Kyōko. I waited, mind slowly processing her continued deep breaths before becoming so aware of how tired I was. I answered the call with a weary sigh, rubbing my face as I shifted my position on the floor, my neck protesting at each movement.

"Moshi moshi?" I whispered in greeting, bringing my numb legs under me and grunting quietly at the pain. I lifted my shoulder to hold the cellular device steady against my cheek as I replaced the cloth on Kyōko's forehead; hands moving at a slow pace that reflected my thought process.

"Ryōhei-san?" The deep rumble of a voice—Oh, it's—

"Hm? What is it Tetsuya?" I mumbled. I rubbed at my eyes, accustomed to the callouses brushing against the sensitive skin as I tried to wake up from my drowsy state. "Kyōko's got an extreme fever so—" I stopped mid-stroke, breathing pausing at the lack of response on the other line.

Wait.

"Tetsuya…?" Silence. My heart slowly began to pound in dread, my throat constricting enough to make it hard to swallow the terror rapidly climbing up my esophagus. I told him to call me if— "No…" I breathed, voice shaky. Nonononono— I tried to swallow again, but it— "Don't tell me—"

"Please…" His voice broke at the end of the word, and he suddenly sounded like the wimp Kyōya involuntarily took under his wing a year ago. The abrupt change of tone caused a shiver to violently shake my spine. "Take care of Hibari-san, Ryōhei-san…" He...sounded as if the past year of growth spurts and voice modifications that had annoyed Kyōya to no end hadn't happened. At. All.

Then—

Kyōya.

Oh my god— "I'll be right over." I gasped, ending the call and jumping to my feet and beginning to run and—

Kyōko.

"Fuck…!" I growled under my breath, turning around again. What do I—? I exhaled shakily, staring at the sleeping beauty, mind trying to come up with a solution for all the—

I shifted, body moving on it's own, hands arranging a glass of water and a bottle of medicine on Kyōko's night stand. I paused before replacing the fresh cloth on her forehead again, hands hovering over the bed. I swallowed, bending at the waist to cup her jaw and press our cheekbones together, mind muddled and knees shaking at my internal conflict.

"Just…" Kyōya needs me. For once the little shit needs me. "give me a few hours." I promised into her hair, exhaling against the caramel strands in hopes of relieving the tension on my shoulders. It didn't work, but I brushed my lips against her temple as a seal of my word anyways, straightening with reluctance before walking out of the room with hurried strides.

I nearly knocked over the delicate china on the table in the hallway in the process.

I was tugging on my shoes when the door opened, a flicker of silver hair making me relax at the too silent entrance. "Okaeri," I mumbled, standing and violently stuffing my arms into my jacket. "Dinner's in the fridge. I'm heading over to Kyōya's real quick." I paused, fingers arranging the collar of my track jacket, wondering if…speaking Kyōko's name…after the multiple violent reactions every time it had been mentioned because…

Fuck it.

My little sister's sick.

"Kyōk—"

"I'm selling Extreme Boxing."

Thump thump.

A pause.

A long, heart pounding, insufferable pause of absolutely nothing. Slowly, enough to make my bones grind together, I looked at the older woman over my shoulder, silver eyes watching her take off her work shoes, studying how she placed her bag near the foot of the stairs. Slender fingers previously used for needlework pulled out the clip in her hair, the silver strands falling down her back in a cascading waterfall I didn't have the time to master on myself.

"What…" I breathed, mind dangerously blank.

She stopped, staring in front of her for a moment. Staring at nothing as I watched the back of her head. Then, she let her hands fall back to her sides, hair clip still in hand, before turning her neck to grace me with one silver eye void of any emotion. Just like her voice. "You heard me."

Sudden—

Rage.

"You—!" I was in front of her and clutching her throat and slamming her against the wall and snarling and bringing back my fist and—

She wasn't fighting back.

Thump thump thump thum— I inhaled deeply, trying to reign in the beast roaring inside of my head, swallowing the clotting scream at the back of my mouth as I forcibly lowered my balled hand to my side. Kyōko's sleeping upstairs, I reminded myself, adjusting my grip on her throat and finding a steady pulse against my index finger. Which meant—She isn't scared.

Which made me mad enough to want to breath out a raspy 'I can kill you,' because I could, but I managed an equally furious, "What the fuck do you think you're doing…?"

Because—

"That—that's Pappa's gym."

"I know."

"No!" I barked, lips pulling back in a snarl. There were no other words than, "That's Pappa's gym." that were needed to be repeated in insistence because—

That's Pappa's gym.

It. Belongs. To him.

She can't—!

She said nothing, watching me; eyes slowly fading into a doze that signaled her disinterest at the current topic that made my heart twist and splutter at how she didn't care—Are...are mothers supposed to be this way?

I leaned in, furious and menacing, taking note of our equal height, my dominant position giving off the feeling of a towering stature. I opened my mouth slowly, trying to give off the most threatening air I could, borrowing Kyōya's presence for a moment: trying my best to imitate him.

I might as well play the role of the villain. In her eyes, it was what I was anyways.

I was too tired to defend myself anymore.

"What the fuck happened to the extreme Kagome Hina…?" I growled.

Smash.

I inhaled, unconsciously tightening my grip on the woman's throat to steady myself, stance widening and spine straightening. She was finally expressing feeling, fingernails digging into my bandaged knuckles and breathing erratically as she struggled against my grasp. She trembled under my grip, tears of frustration collecting on her lower eyelids.

"Don't you dare," She hissed, as I blinked the shards and water droplets out of my eyes before shaking my head to loosen more from my hair, petals tickling my ears, "say that word again…"

Huh…

I looked at her, feeling all of the tiny cuts on my face beginning to sting, slowly trailing my tongue along a particular annoying wound along my upper lip. All I could think to say to this ghost of a woman who no longer interacted with her daughters anymore was, "Kyōko picked out those flowers on her way home from school the other day. She made the vase you just broke during Home Economics last week."

Last chance. Show you care. Kyōko needs her mother.

She already lost her father…

There was no reaction. She merely continued to convulse and cry and mumble Akio's name and tremble against my hand. I felt a choking sense of disappointment erupt from my chest and force tears to come to my eyes, my facial muscles relaxing to an emotionless face that most likely showed an odd resemblance to Hibari Kyōya's.

Honestly, I spent enough time with him to maybe even adopt some of his habits.

I...don't even know who this is anymore…

"I don't have time for this." I admitted with a sigh, letting her go. She fell to her knees, hiccuping as I stepped back, watching her for a moment. Watching a broken woman just there and not living. "Kyōko's asleep with a fever." I said, turning and walking towards the door. "So I'd appreciate it if you keep quiet, eat what she made you, and lock yourself up in your room like you usually do." I stuffed my keys in my pocket and pulled at the door handle—

"Why did you stop…?"

I paused. It was a question she now always asked me in replacement of a farewell, and after the first several times, I grew accustomed to the breathlessness and guilt that made my ears ring with regret because—

Because I could.

That day… I stopped because how...was I supposed to know that that could have happened?

How...could I have possibly considered a faulty brake to happen to us?

I couldn't. I didn't. That's. It.

People are reckless and stupid because we believe such things won't happen to us. And that… That's why.

I looked at the woman over my shoulder, feeling my eyelids lower over my silver eyes, the same ones I was looking into. The ones shining with tears. She was hauntingly beautiful even as spiritually broken as she was. It was almost sad. To see all that beauty go to waste. Almost. "Because I could." I answered, turning and closing the door behind me.

I exhaled, hot breath solidifying into mist. I wanted to curl into a ball right then and there and simply sleep. Forever. But I couldn't. I had shit to do. So I inhaled to uncoil the tension in my chest and forced my thoughts to encircle mundane things.

Such as—

The cold weather had yet to warm, so the nights were still frosty, especially at two o'clock in the morning. Well… I thought, rubbing my hands together as I hurried off the porch, accustomed to the eerie silence of Namimori's nights, it's coldest at five o'clock in the morning.

Once locking the gate behind me, I started down the street towards the Hibari residence at a run, wanting to get to the mansion-like abode quickly. I could deal with Kagome Hina any other time. Right now, Kyōya needed me.

For once… Kyōya needs me.


"Did you know…" I mumbled, voice cracking from lack of use. I continued to look forward as I cleared my throat weakly, too weary to even glance at the boy next to me anymore. I, myself, had cried my fill the moment Kyōya had been made to throw dirt on top of his mother's coffin. "That the extreme English word, 'comfort,'" I cringed. The word came out dripping with my Japanese accent as, 'komfuort,' "ultimately comes from the Latin word, 'confortare,' which means 'to strengthen greatly,' and that itself is a derivative of 'fortis,' which means extremely 'strong'?"

It was a useless fact I somehow remembered from my past life, and I only recited it because I was absolutely tired of the staring-at-absolutely-nothing everyone has been doing the past year.

I needed to get things moving. People needed to start living again.

Hibari Kyōya shouldn't be like this!

Kyōya didn't respond, but I could feel him slowly waking up from a sort-of-stupor he had been in ever since I had burst into the Hibari abode panting and sweating and searching for him as desperately as I had searched for Kyōko when I gained my scar.

His hand twitched in my own, and I began to grow excited and confident because it was the first reaction I bore witness to since…

"Kyōya…" I mumbled, tightening my hold and stepping closer to him. Our shoulders pressed together, and I stopped myself from leaning my head against his, since I needed to do this slowly. Carefully; As if, Here be dragons. "We're not extremely weak when we comfort each other." I said, struggling with organizing the words I needed to use at the moment. "There's no way we ease each other's grief, because we both feel the same amount of extreme pain. If anything, we relate to each other during these times. There's no such thing as consoling between us. It's just looking at each other, watching even, and waiting for the other to stand up because we can. Because we extremely have to." I corrected.

I paused, going over the words again in my mind. Did it—?

"Am I making sense?" I whispered, realizing how much I had confused myself. "No." I answered honestly, annoyed at the complete waste of time that monologue had been. With a huff, "Comforting is making each other stronger. More resilient," I tried again, "What I'm trying to say is—" I spun to stand in front of him, intertwining our fingers together and trying to gain his full attention. "Men know when to cry, Kyōya. What you're doing right now...you're being an extreme coward: hiding your tears like that."

He frowned slowly, staring at the grass as if waking up from a deep sleep. I waited patiently, watching the sluggish transformation that began with a trembling lip before leisurely evolving to the twisted face of a crying child.

He hiccuped as he cried, eyes screwed shut and shoulders shaking. I didn't react to the sudden display of weakness, because it wasn't, I merely ran the pad of my thumb across his knuckles soothingly, waiting it out, just as he did for me.

He did not wail, like I had done, where the volume of my cries had expressed my heart wrenching devastation. No; Hibari Kyōya's cries were violent in the way he choked on his tears. In the way his body shook and convulsed under the pressure of his grief, and he gasped for air as if waking from a nightmare.

If only it was a nightmare…

He continued to cry, and I continued to stroke the bridge of his thumb in what I hoped to be a soothing manner.


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Leilei Suzume died on Friday, April 5th, at the age of 32, due to overworking in supporting the spiritually broken Kagome Hina.

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This blasted mansion is a pain in the ass! "Kyōya?" I called again, scratching at the bandage on my nose in irritation. "Kyoya!" I paused to catch a response, if any, only to stomp further into the garden when I got no reply. I followed the winding path to the dojo behind the Hibari residence, legs accustomed to the uphill trek. The first several times had been so painful… "Kyōya!" I paused upon stepping on the external hallway, confused at the sound coming from the inside, hand hovering over the sliding door.

I cocked my head, listening to the inside of the dojo intently. This sound...it was familiar. Too familiar. It was the kind of familiar that brought on a sense of dread because it was bad and not good

"Hagck!" Realization—

Son of a

"Kyōya!" I threw open the sliding door, mind barely processing the image of a tall man over the vomiting boy before— "Get away from him!" I ran at the male, right fist aiming for his knee. Quickly, with such a smooth motion it took a while for my mind to process, he side stepped and took my wrist, grabbing my jaw with his other hand and forcibly pulling my shoulder taught.

I grunted, muscles working against the feeling of my wrist being pulled and my shoulder being pulled and my neck craning in the other direction painfullyfuck fuck fuck!

"You—!" I growled, left hand curling around the ligament at my jaw. I pushed on the pressure points with my fingertips, a trick Leilei Suzume had taught me before her passing, hoping for him to let go. Instead, he tightened his grip, muscles tensing under me and leaving my fingertip grip useless. He deftly shifted his hold from my wrist to my knuckles, fingers cunningly encircling my right ring finger all without releasing me or weakening his hold.

Horror ran up my spine in realization—

"Sto—!"

Crack.

I held in the scream, body shaking in containing any yelling I would have normally displayed at the pain encircling my hand. I gritted my teeth at the black spots flickering across my vision, wanting to curl up against the ache but needing to smash in the blank face this beast was giving me—

I was seeing red.

"I'll—" I choked, gasping at the heat racing up my arm, struggling against the vibrations of wails in my chest. "I'll kill you." I snarled around his loosening grip on my jaw, neck craning away. Away away away. But he still held me tight, black eyes clear of remorse or guilt. They were dark pools of darkness with the faintest glimmer of curiosity in the top right corner. Ironically, I realized, it reminded me of a fucking star.

Something bright amidst the darkness.

"These…" He breathed, leaning forwards, deep voice reverberating in the air. "Are the eyes of a carnivore, Kyōya."

I snarled again, the sound coming out as an animalistic growl. Spittle collected on my tongue and I didn't hesitate to fling it at the man who had just broken my finger. It landed with a satisfying splat against the left side of his nose and along his cheek. The small mark of disrespect did nothing to deter the beauty Kyōya had inherited. From both parents, I belatedly noted.

"You would do well to learn her iron will." He continued, pulling away and looking towards his heavily breathing son. I didn't steer my gaze, sending him my hatred and rage. I wanted him to feel my killing intent. For him to know just how much it was possible for me to kill him without regretting it, all with a stare.

Even though this was true, what I really didn't want to see was a beaten Kyōya. It had nothing to do with his physical state: he was strong, and he would survive this. What I hated was the way he—

"Heal him," Hibari Souma ordered, releasing me. I landed on my lower back, accidentally catching myself with my right hand. I resisted the urge to curl up into a ball and clutch my finger to my chest, the crooked ligament pulsing with heat as I rolled away instead; towards Kyōya, glaring at his father and cradling my hand tenderly. He patted at his yukata as if it had collected a fair amount of dust in dealing with us children. "I hope you improve the next time we meet, Kyōya. It would be such a shame if you don't." He walked towards the door, the resounding footsteps creating a rather ominous feeling to his exit.

The sliding door rattled open, and we said nothing as it closed behind him. I waited, counting to thirty before exhaling shakily and turning to Kyōya behind me. "Hey, you okay?" I breathed, eyes scanning the injuries his father dealt him with pure fists.

It was an insult; for him not to use his weapons and use his hands in going easy on him.

Haha...what a stupid thing for a best friend to think. Since he was beaten enough already. But it was true. In Kyōya's mind it was true and reasonable, and I, maybe not so oddly, understood completely.

That didn't mean I liked it.

He didn't reply, irises burning holes into the hardwood floor. I clenched my jaw at his lack of response, annoyed and mad at everything as I placed my left hand on his shoulder to catch his attention. "Oi, let me just get the—," the boy recoiled from my touch, somehow managing to drag himself a good arm's distance away from me, all the while not looking up and leaning heavily on his right arm.

I blinked in confusion and concern. Why was he—? "Kyō—?"

"No."

Thump thump.

I frowned, not understanding and becoming frustrated with his stubbornness. "Kyōya, don't be—"

"Leave."

Thump thump thum

What? I stared at him, wondering if I heard correctly. Did he…? My heart began to race as a feeling that reminded me of fear and something else began to enclose my throat. Something— "Kyōya—"

"Leave!" He barked, voice uncharacteristically loud and vibrating and resounding in my chest painfully.

—like hopelessness.

Thump thump thump thump— "Fine!" I snapped, hands shaking and vision blurring and irked and bothered and miffed and depressed and hurting

I stood, knees shaking and lips trembling and tears hot— "Call me when you pull that stick out of your ass, you little shit!" I turned and stomped out, slamming the sliding door in hopes it'd break.

It didn't.

That...that little… What little adrenaline I had was gone, now that I was outside, so I was allowed to cry because of the pain and the frustration and annoyance and feelings and— "Uuugh…" I quickly slapped my left hand over my mouth, muffling the sudden whimpers escaping my lips.

No no no! That fucking bastard is not getting the satisfaction of hearing me cry! He's not—! "Uuugh…" He's not—! "Uuu…." He's not—! "Uuuuu…."

Fuck.

"Wuuhh….Hicgh...Uuuuh… Hicgh hicgh…" I didn't wail like I usually did, but my blubbering served its purpose anyways.


"Onēchan?"

"Hah?" The response was immediate, Kyōko's voice piercing the haze that was my workout. I paused and straightened from my form, dropping my elbows and straightening my knees before tilting my head towards the ceiling to breathe easier. "What is it?" I asked, glancing at the girl out of the corner of my eye.

She pursed her lips, eyebrows furrowing in concern, fingers delicately drumming against the doorframe in thought. She tilted her head, caramel strands falling into honey colored eyes. "Kusakabe-kun told me tell you to take a break. Apparently, you were training so hard, you didn't notice him just now."

I blinked, thoroughly confused. Tetsuya was here? And I didn't notice him? Ah… I'm such an asshole. I was tired, tired enough to not want to fix my rudeness. I mean it was Tetsuya. He would understand. And it was because he was Tetsuya and because he would understand that I needed to apologize.

"Alright, alright." I groaned, shaking out my limbs to relax the previously tensed muscles. "Is he still here? I might as well—" I stopped, face falling to a neutral expression at the sudden presence next to my little sister. I let my hands drop to my sides, trying not to express notice of the swelling under Kyōya's left eye and the split lip along his bottom lip.

"Um...I'll be in the kitchen, Onēchan," Kyōko almost mumbled, head snapping back in forth between us, tense under the pressure the room suddenly contained. "Hibari-san," She bowed, quickly scurrying away before he responded a courteous reply.

I frowned at him, still mad at the embarrassment he had caused me earlier today. At the way he had treated me. "What is it?" I placed my hands on my hips, the bandaged finger on my right hand catching his attention. He stared at it for a while, the concentration making me uncomfortable. He looked away right when I was about to snap at him, gaze shifting to my bed in the far right corner. He made his way over, eleven year old body curling into the mountain of plushies Kyōko had created by hand to practice her sewing skills and the like.

It was really hard not to laugh at how perfectly suited he was among the wealth of cuddly toys; being surrounded by pinks and purples and cuteness and all.

It annoyed me that I couldn't stay mad at him that way. Or long, for that matter. Especially when he glanced up at me from the pile of fluff with large, gray eyes before looking away quickly as if I had caught him staring.

I bet the little shit knew it.

He didn't waste time to look through the drawer of my nightstand for the first aid kit once he got comfortable, placing it in front of him and looking at me expectantly through thick eyelashes that he absolutely did not deserve.

I sighed in understanding, scratching at the bandage on my nose in extreme annoyance. "Fine. Fine." I plopped myself across from him, pulling the first aid kit towards me and searching its contents for the appropriate materials. Once found, I threw them at him, the dexterous boy catching them easily. He began to treat his wounds as I re-bandaged my broken finger, contemplating about how hard it was not to train properly with the broken ligament, but I was at least still able to do something as I was not limited to merely my fists.

Elbows and knees could be dangerous too.

"Ah, you missed a spot." I corrected, tapping my cheek appropriately. He followed my example, but didn't exactly wipe the disinfectant right. "Here." I leaned forward, guiding his hand to the right spot, causing him to growl and slap my hand away at the physical contact. "Okay okay, no need to use extreme violence." I conceded, going back to my daily bandaging.

I had just taken off the one on my nose and was looking for a new one to replace it with when Kyōya leaned forward and placed it on me himself. It was clumsy work, having been arranged a little crooked, but his touch left me warm and satisfied, even happy. My stupid grin caused no reaction as he leaned back into the ocean of teddy bears and plushies, almost as if he was burying himself in hopes of hiding from embarrassment.

"Thanks." I said, crooked grin in place.

I hated his way of apologizing. It was too vague. But it left me warm and content.


Thanks to:


Shin no yoru (thanks! kind of working on that...haha...), anima (ack! what a wonderful idea! i'll definitely be borrowing that! remind me to mention you~!), New and Old (haha. tetsuya with a crush on ryohei? how complicated...), chibi-no-baka (it's strangely hard to implement it though...), Allykrau (yet everyone still commenting on hibari's height...huh...), Sico1324 (haha! i know!), GoodbyeGreySkies (yup yup. you're right), ThaoSama (yeah, we'll have to fix that, huh?), little101 (yes! yes! what a beautiful idea! as for everything else, you're getting ahead of me! shh! shh!), MusicOfMadness (ah...does this chap help with that?), Visitor (thanks a lot!), YuujouKami (thanks a lot! i kind of stole you're profile picture for the cover of my other story...was that mean of me...?), Onesmartcookie78 (not yet! not yet! just a little more! i have things planned!), kenegi (ah, really? thanks!), Dustflame (thanks! i've corrected that i think?), HopelessDesires (ack! i missed you~! you make me blush! your stories are way better! they are!), HiddenSight48 (thanks a lot!), HeeHeeHee01 (thanks a lot! i appreciate it! i've corrected the problem, although sloppily. what do you think of the chapter?), 's Extreme Rulebreaker (thanks for the review!), cascioli (ah...we will see...), LadyDream3512 (ah...i made her a female because i feel that it'd be hard to write a male... oh well, it's entertaining, right?)


I. Am. SORRY.

Senior Year + College Apps + This Family of Mine = My Dark Hair Turning White From Stress...

In other news, am I the only one who thinks there should be a KHR Reboot? And that it should go all the way to the end? No? No. Good.

I tried to make this chapter as natural as possible. I can relate with Ryōhei and stress at the moment... like that scene when she tries to explain something and it doesn't work out? Yeah, failing like that is completely normal. At least for for me... I was gonna post an omake but decided against it, you guys waited long enough for this chapter, honestly :)

In other, other, news, the romantic interest poll for this story will be up either...before or after the Mukuro Arc. Yeah. :) That sounds good.

In other, other, other, news, HopelessDesires is an internet buddy whose writing style is my goal to achieve. I want to write just like her! Go check out her work guys, and see how beautiful it is and HOW MUCH I WANT TO WRITE LIKE THAT! GUH!

Okay, okay, I'll stop rambling. I should sleep...

Please review!

—prince