Disclaimers: Don't own KHR or its characters.

Warnings: crude language in this chapter.

A/N: Thank you for all of your reviews, favourites and alerts! They mean a lot to me! :D

Gokudera could not believe it.

Not only did he find out today that his school was filled with almost the entire freaking group of the Varia gang leaders, but he was in fact in the same class as Belphegor – his arch nemesis in Varia, also known as Prince the Ripper for how Bel refers to himself as a 'prince' and for his obsession with blood. Plus, he was also told that the infamous Rokudo Mukuro was in his year group – the Rokudo Mukuro whom the founder of Dynamite, Lancia, had always told him to never trust.

The only positive thing that had happened on his first day at Namimori High School was that he had met Sawada Tsunayoshi – his best and only true friend from since he was very young. The two were suddenly separated after Primary when Gokudera's family moved away from Tsuna's neighborhood, and Gokudera had entered the young underground world during the absence of him, but Gokudera never stopped admiring the brown haired boy. Tsuna was the kind of person who was just so pure that it was unbelievable – the kind of person who would do everything for the people he cared for, who would always put others before himself and would never take advantage of others. Through Gokudera's lifetime and through his mother's death, Tsuna had been like his light, showing him that there are ways to make things better, and he looked up to Tsuna because the boy was something that Gokudera could never be.

But then, tagged along with Tsuna was someone unexpected. Someone that Gokudera never thought he would meet again in his life.

Tsuna had introduced the guy to him during lunch time, when the different classes could finally meet. "Gokudera-kun… this is my friend, Yamamoto."

Namimori was, indeed, an incredibly small town.

"Hey, Gokudera," There he was, standing in front of him, looking even taller than two days before in his uniform with that carefree smile still permanent on his face – those dark chocolate eyes as as warm and gentle as he remembered them to be.

Yamamoto Takeshi.

Gokudera just stood there staring at him, not knowing how he should respond. He wasn't sure whether his mouth was hanging open or not, but at that point, he didn't really care.

This guy, Yamamoto, had seen a side of him that he would never usually show towards a stranger. On the day that they met he was taken by surprise and he was acting very… tame, whereas with most people he would give off a gangly, don't-give-a-fuck attitude. And Gokudera was not happy about revealing a more vulnerable side of him to this guy – it was not how he wanted to be remembered. He was freaking Gokudera Hayato, the 'Smoking Bomb', one of the most fierce and strongest fighters of Dynamite – that was him. The guy who fainted in front of some stranger's house and acted all quiet and neat afterwards… that was not who he wanted anybody to know, and he wasn't sure whether it was too late to change Yamamoto's impression of him.

So he stood there, giving Yamamoto a 'look' which gave the message that he didn't want Yamamoto to remember they had met.

However, the guy was clueless.

"Haha, what a coincidence. I never thought you would enroll in my school," Yamamoto spoke with a bright smile, and Gokudera mentally face palmed.

Ugh… the idiot.

Tsuna was confused, "Eh? You guys met before?"

Gokudera was about to deny it but Yamamoto was faster, "Yup. He fainted in front of my house so I helped him out."

Once again, Gokudera felt like slamming his head onto a wall. Or, even better, slam Yamamoto's head into a wall and maybe attempt to wipe that damn smile off his face.

"You fainted?" Tsuna turned to Gokudera with concerned eyes, "You should take care of yourself more, Gokudera-kun."

Gokudera nodded, though he avoided meeting Tsuna's eyes, "Yeah… I know."

The three of them sat themselves on a free table in the dining hall, starting to eat their lunch. During this time, Gokudera avoided any sort of conversation or eye-contact with Yamamoto at all costs, whereas with Tsuna, he smiled lightly and talked to the boy in the nicest possible way. The contrast was so great it was noticeable. To Gokudera, Yamamoto was like a non-existent being that he completely ignored, whereas Tsuna was a precious gem that meant more to him than anything.

Tsuna had noticed the exclusion and had tried to bring Yamamoto into the conversation, but Gokudera wouldn't even listen to what Yamamoto was saying. Those emerald eyes wouldn't take a single glance at him. Yamamoto was confused and slightly frustrated, though he kept on eating peacefully – his optimistic nature undamaged.

Half way through the meal, the three ex-Kokuyo students joined the table, meeting Gokudera for the first time.

Gokudera's first impression of Ken was rather negative. The guy reminded him of Squalo and Bel from the Varia gang combined – with a wild animal thrown into the mix. As a member of a color gang Gokudera had met many people who had raw personalities, but Ken was just… animalistic. Not to mention, excessively loud both verbally and action-wise.

Along with Ken came Chikusa, who trailed after the blonde like a silent shadow. Chikusa, in Gokudera's opinion, looked way too quiet to hang around with someone like Ken. The guy wore glasses and a white beanie with a simple hair cut which made him look rather like a nerd, his concentration fully focused on the yoyo he was playing with.

Then, there was Mukuro – Rokudo Mukuro, the guy whose name Gokudera had heard so many times before. Lancia, his boss, had told him to never trust this name, and if possible, never be involved with the person at all. And from the moment he saw Mukuro, Gokudera could understand why Lancia would warn him so. Even before Mukuro even introduced himself, Gokudera knew, without doubt, that it was him.

Mukuro gave of a vibe that was nothing but dark and dangerous, and yet, very mysterious and alluring at the same time. Not only were his mismatched eyes weird, but the way his eyes looked at things as though he could see through every truth and lie was even more intimidating. How the guy held himself was also peculiar – those lips curving in an angle that was suspicious in every way. His dark blue hair was also parted and set in an awkward way, but in a style that fitted him flawlessly.

"Kufufufu… Gokudera Hayato is it not? I have heard your name before," Mukuro spoke as soon as he approached the table, "I'm Rokudo Mukuro." The smile on his face was indefinable. Then, Mukuro motioned towards the other two ex-Kokuyo students behind him, "This is Joshima Ken and Kakimoto Chikusa."

Gokudera leaned his head towards one side, eyeing the three of them, "Tch. I heard your name before, Mukuro."

Mukuro smirked, "Kufufu… oya, is that so? Seems like Lancia had yet to forgive me for our past conflict, judging from the way those eyes of yours are looking at me."

"I doubt it's his fault," Gokudera mumbled, already developing a dislike for Mukuro. Lancia was a person he respected, and he knew his boss would not hate someone so deeply without reason.

"Oi, don't speak to Mukuro-sama like that," Ken butted in, but Mukuro held his friend back.

"It's alright. I'd hate to create conflict between us on our first meeting. Kufufu…" Mukuro then walked over and sat down next to Tsuna with Ken, whilst Chikusa seated himself beside Gokudera before everyone continued to eat.

However, it was somewhat an awkward atmosphere for the rest of the lunch break, not much conversation going on across the table: Gokudera still avoiding any conversation with Yamamoto whilst shooting glares at Mukuro; Mukuro just being his typical unusual self though slightly more provocative towards Gokudera; and Tsuna in the middle of it all, not knowing what to do. It seemed like the only two people who were unaffected by the awkwardness were Ken – who was too clueless and indulged in eating to care – and Chikusa – who was indifferent as always.

Already, Gokudera could foresee future issues right on his first day of school.

"Gokudera, wait up!"

Ignore. Ignore. Ignore.

"Gokudera! Wait!"

Ignore. Ignore. Ignore. Ignore. Ignore. Igno-

"Gokudera!"

Damn it. Fuck this.

"What?" Gokudera spun around to face Yamamoto who had been following him from since the moment the school day ended. Tsuna had a detention with Reborn sensei, and because of that, Gokudera had no reason to hang around Yamamoto any longer. Yamamoto, however, seemed to have missed the message.

"You're walking way too fast," Yamamoto said, smiling lightly like he always did.

Gokudera crossed his arms, a clear frown on his face, "How is that your problem?"

Yeah. This is who I am. The Gokudera you met doesn't fucking exist.

Yamamoto blinked, before he replied, "Well, it's not exactly a problem but wouldn't it be better to just relax and chill out a bit?"

"Tch. Mind your own bloody business," Gokudera spat before he continued walking, taking large, quick strides, obviously trying to get rid of Yamamoto.

But unfortunately for him, Yamamoto wasn't someone who would give up that easily, "Why are you avoiding me?"

Just ignore him.

Gokudera didn't reply, he just continued to walk with that constant fast pace. Yamamoto walked after him with the exact same speed, "Gokudera, if you won't tell me I won't get it."

Just. Keep. Walking.

Yamamoto sped up and grabbed his wrist, "Gokudera-"

Immediately, Gokudera pulled his arm out of Yamamoto's grip before he pinned the baseball player up against the wall, one hand gripping his collar tightly.

"Stop annoying me. I am not like you. I'm a fucking leading member of the mother fucking Dynamite gang. I hurt people. So if you want to continue living your happy freaking life, just leave. Me. Alone." Gokudera spoke through gritted teeth, glaring up at Yamamoto.

There was a long moment of silence that Yamamoto and Gokudera had their eyes locked. Emerald eyes glaring and threatening whilst those deep brown eyes looked back, confused – before slowly, they changed into something else. Something much gentler and warmer than anything Gokudera had ever seen – and he couldn't stand it. Gokudera had to hide his eyes away from that gaze, though his fists on Yamamoto's shirt remained tight.

"Gokudera…" Yamamoto murmured, "…it's okay."

Gokudera didn't get it. He didn't understand what was okay. How he threatened Yamamoto? How he was annoyed? What? What was okay?

Then, slowly, Yamamoto rested his palm on Gokudera's fist that was gripping his shirt – and almost instantly Gokudera pulled away. But this time, Yamamoto didn't let go. Gokudera frowned and tried to remove Yamamoto's hand, but the grip was tighter than he expected.

"What the fuck do you want?" Gokudera muttered in frustration, still trying to pull his hand away.

"I just want to know you," Yamamoto said, a smile re-emerging on his face.

"Why?" Gokudera asked, exasperated. He didn't get this guy. Not one little bit. That smile, that optimistic attitude, that strange determination to be 'nice' to him. What was that all about? Gokudera just could not understand why Yamamoto wanted to get to know him so badly.

Yamamoto smiled, "You're interesting."

"…interesting? What, because I'm a member of a color gang? Why don't you go befriend all the fucking Varia members in Nami High then – there's already that asshole Bel in my class," Gokudera went on, before he pulled his arm another time, "Let go."

"It's not just that," Yamamoto said, "It's… your personality. It reminds me of a cat, kinda."

"A cat?" Gokudera repeated incredulously, "What the hell's so special about that? And you've only just met me two fucking times."

"Well…" Yamamoto looked down at this point, before he looked back up at Gokudera's face and finally said, "Honestly, it's your smile."

"What?" Gokudera stared at him, not believing his ears – he even forgot about the Yamamoto's hand on his own.

Yamamoto laughed lightly, "You're just really different. Your silver hair, green eyes…"

"So what, I'm a mother fucking alien now just because I have different hair and eye color?" Gokudera asked, still not understanding what Yamamoto was trying to say.

"Ahaha, no, I didn't mean it that way," Yamamoto smiled, before he murmured the next line shyly, "…you're just really pretty."

…

That was it. That was crossing the line.

After the initial shock was over, Gokudera reached up with his free hand before he punched Yamamoto full on across the face – hard enough that Yamamoto had to release his hold and fall over to the side. But after his fall, Yamamoto just sat up again, holding his jaw with one hand and he was… laughing lightly – as if the punch didn't affect him at all. Gokudera found it absolutely ridiculous.

"Ah… hahaha, ow, you punch hard, Gokudera," Yamamoto smiled at him.

"…what the fuck?" was the only thing Gokudera managed to utter before he continued, "I don't fucking get you. Just… what the hell?" and as Yamamoto kept on laughing lightly, Gokudera just shook his head and walked off, frowning deeply.

What is up with him? What is he even trying to do?

Fucking hit on me? What, he's gay?

And to hell with the 'you're pretty' bullshit. I'm a fucking guy. You don't say that to-

Fuck. Why am I even getting frustrated over this?

Yamamoto looked at Gokudera's back as he left, the smile still remaining on his face even though it was throbbing from the silvernette's punch.

"…haha, guess I really deserved it for saying that to him."

"Eh? Gokudera-kun, what happened to your lips?"

The lunch table's attention was immediately diverted to Gokudera the moment he approached the table the next day, as Tsuna pointed out the very obvious damage on the corner of his lips. The flesh was split with a bruise surrounding the wound.

"Ah, it's… nothing. I got punched by this asshole. You know, the usual gang stuff – nothing you should worry about," Gokudera replied, lifting his hand to touch the area.

Tsuna sighed, "Why is it that my friends get hurt a lot? Yamamoto got punched yesterday too – it's even bruised. I wonder who could do such a horrible thing."

Gokudera swallowed thickly, realizing that it was – in actual fact – him who did the 'horrible thing' to Yamamoto. The dark bruise on the baseball's player cheek showing up on the exact same place he punched the guy was the perfect evidence. But it wasn't like it was his fault, wasn't it? Yamamoto was asking for it by annoying him and saying such inappropriate things.

Pretty…? Gokudera couldn't even look at the guy straight in the face anymore even if he wanted to.

Yamamoto observed Gokudera as the silvernette sat himself beside Tsuna on the lunch table, and he noticed how those emerald eyes still refused to look at him. Though this time, it wasn't so much a case of avoidance, but rather a case of awkwardness. The difference between the two was so slight but yet so significant – and Yamamoto could tell them apart. Gokudera didn't face him not because he didn't want to, but because he didn't know how to act if he looked at him right in the eyes. Yamamoto wondered what reaction would Gokudera give if he did connect eye contact with him – would he blush? Or would he scowl? Or both, even? Yamamoto couldn't stop guessing.

Even after that punch, Yamamoto still felt like he wanted to know Gokudera better. In fact, he found Gokudera even more interesting after yesterday's confrontation. When Gokudera had pinned him against the wall, he saw something in those deep green eyes – something that he was familiar with, to a certain extent.

I am not like you. I'm a fucking leading member of the mother fucking Dynamite gang. I hurt people.

It was pain – pain and anger, but not at Yamamoto in particular. Gokudera's anger was directed towards himself, the pain created inside of him due to himself. Yamamoto could identify the gleam in those green eyes right away – because he, too, had experienced it in the past, though it seemed almost impossible for such an optimistic guy like him. But Yamamoto had definitely gone through a certain level of that emotion before: self-hatred. That's what it was – and Yamamoto could see that Gokudera clearly had it too. Thus, he felt like he could somehow empathize with the silvernette and connect with him. He wanted to know why Gokudera felt that way and help him go through it, because he, more than anyone, understood what it felt like to be in that position.

Yamamoto had already decided to get to know Gokudera no matter what. Just a punch to the face wouldn't stop him.

"Oya, now that I thought about it… isn't it strange that a leading member of Dynamite got punched so very easily?" Mukuro spoke up during the middle of lunch.

Gokudera frowned, "What, I can't make mistakes once in a while?"

"Heh, only suckers make mistakes," Ken said, smirking.

"That's not nice, Ken," Chikusa mumbled, but his comment was ignored.

"Yeah? I bet this 'sucker' can fuck your face up in five seconds," Gokudera challenged, before he added, "Not that it will make much of a difference to your appearance."

"What the fuck did you just say?" Ken growled.

"I said, I can beat the shit out of you right now, sucker," Gokudera smirked.

Ken glared at him before suddenly, he paused, and eventually smirked, "Ha, as if a transvestite could even throw a proper punch."

Gokudera stood up at that point, "Repeat that and I will make you regret your birth, cunt face."

Ken stood up as well, "Eh? You're not? Heh, well sorry, I just couldn't tell the difference from the way you dress."

Gokudera gritted his teeth, "You mother fu-"

"Maa, maa, calm down now," Yamamoto interrupted the two of them, pulling Gokudera back down on his chair, but Gokudera jerked his hands away.

"None of your fucking business, idiot," he spat at Yamamoto before going back to Ken, "Now you-"

"Maa, Gokudera," Yamamoto grabbed the silvernette once more, before he spoke loud and clear, "You're scaring Tsuna."

That did the trick. As soon as Gokudera saw Tsuna's troubled expression his anger instantly evaporated before he sat himself back down and reluctantly went back to eating his food, murmuring, "…sorry, Tsuna."

"Ah, it's okay, Gokudera-kun," Tsuna replied, still rather frightened by Ken and Gokudera's exchange.

"What? You're giving up already? Ha, talk about all bark and no bite, bitch," Ken stuck his tongue out at Gokudera, and the silvernette took all the self control he had not to punch the animalistic guy across the jaw.

Fortunately, Chikusa smoothly entered the picture, "Ken, that's enough."

Ken turned to his friend, "Whatever Kakipii, why should I listen to a stupid kappa-head who-"

"Ken." Chikusa repeated his name, this time his pale hand gripping on Ken's wrist, those blue eyes looking intensely at Ken through his glasses.

Ken faltered, sitting back down in his seat, complaining, "Oi, whatever, Kakipii! Just go eat your weird salad." Finding something to take his frustration out on, Ken ended up violently poking Chikusa's salad with his fork.

"You don't have to abuse my lunch just because you're too childish to eat anything else but meat," Chikusa mumbled again, his face still just as expressionless as before.

"Shut up, Kakipii!" Ken yelled at him, but Chikusa remained unaffected, as still as a doll.

During all this, a certain dark haired person had sat silently, observing the situation without getting involved, his mismatched eyes calculating.

So Smoking Bomb has quite a short temper as expected, though I thought he would be more careful not to let anyone hit him on the face… strange.

But it seems like I was right to assume that Sawada Tsunayoshi has quite an importance to him…

Ah, but this one's surprising. Yamamoto Takeshi. He knew exactly what to say to calm the storm of Gokudera Hayato just from mere observations in the past days… oya, isn't this interesting. That natural intuition could become very useful…

…hm?

Ah, yes. Of course. Very useful indeed…

"Kufufufu…" and once again, Rokudo Mukuro enjoyed his own personal joke that nobody ever understood.

It was late in the afternoon, and club activities had finally ended. Most of the students had already left the school, leaving the place with a much more peaceful, yet at the same time, lonely atmosphere as the quiet buildings bathed in the orange afternoon sun.

Yamamoto stood in the sport's area's shower, allowing the cool water to wash over his entire body after a long baseball practice. It had always been his passion to play baseball – he liked the adrenaline rush during the game, the swing of the bat, the feel of throwing the ball… and every time he caught a ball and heard that satisfying 'clump' as it hit his gloves, he would feel calm and happy with his present life. With this passion and natural talent, Yamamoto easily became the ace of the team, though he never boasted his skills or looked down on amateurs. For him, baseball was part of his life, and if anyone had the same desire to play it, then he would always be happy to share the joy he had in every game.

Stepping out of the shower, one towel wrapped loosely around his waist whilst another hung around his neck, Yamamoto realized that he was the only player left. But that didn't bother him, in fact, on some occasions Yamamoto rather enjoyed the solitary peace.

Maybe that's why Hibari likes to be alone. He thought, before a smile emerged on his face with the image of Hibari appearing in his mind. He hadn't seen the prefect for two days now, and honestly, Yamamoto missed him – that face which always seemed to be unsatisfied about something, those eagle-like dark, sharp eyes, and that threatening yet calm demeanor. He knew Hibari stayed at school much later than he did and he would definitely find him in the prefect's council, but Yamamoto couldn't find a reasonable excuse to do so. It would seem weird for him to suddenly pop into the room just because he 'felt like it' – and knowing Hibari's hatred of his personal peace being interrupted, Yamamoto was certain visiting the prefect like that would be of no positive gain for him.

Yamamoto sighed, pulling on a clean set of PE clothes, before he sat down and started wiping his hair dry, thinking of ways he would be able to meet Hibari.

I couldn't get in another detention either. That would be breaking too many school rules and Hibari would start hating me… but I really do want to see him…

CLANG.

A loud noise coming from outside of the showers interrupted Yamamoto's thoughts, and he stood up, wondering what it was.

CLANG. CLANG.

It sounded like two pieces of metal hitting each other, and Yamamoto wondered who could possibly be causing that noise this late in the afternoon. Curiously, the baseball player stepped quietly closer to the source of the sounds before he poke his head around the wall to peak on what was going on.

Ah, that's…

"Kufufu… your anger really does amuse me to no end," Mukuro was standing there with something that looked rather like a sharp trident in his hands. The trident was pressed against something else that another person was holding, but from where Yamamoto was standing, he couldn't see who that person was.

CLANG. CLANG.

The two pieces of metal continued to clash before Mukuro spoke once more with that smile still present on his face, "Ah, when will you ever give up, Hibari Kyouya?"

Eh…? Hibari?

As soon as Yamamoto heard that name, he leaned over a bit more so that he could really confirm that the other person was the prefect – and sure enough, standing there with tonfas in both of his hands was Hibari Kyouya, panting and sweating slightly, glaring harshly at Mukuro.

"Kufufu… I do wonder what I could possibly have done to make you hate me this much," Mukuro continued to taunt him whilst effortlessly moving his trident to block off Hibari's tonfas. The two were fighting at an incredible speed, though it seemed like none truly overpowered the other. However, whilst Hibari seemed to be giving his all on attacking Mukuro, the younger appeared to be just enjoying Hibari's rampage, blocking only when necessary and never taking the initiative to attack.

"I will defeat you," Hibari said, panting as he continued to try and hit Mukuro with his tonfas.

"Oya? Is that so?" Mukuro smirked, before suddenly he took a quick move, and in a flash, Hibari was thrown against the wall with Mukuro's trident pinned only millimeters away from his face, Mukuro's gloved hand wrapped tight around his throat. A cut inflicted on Hibari's cheek from the action began to ooze up with blood before it started dipping down his face.

"Kufufu… I could've pierced your neck if I wanted to," Mukuro's smile was menacing, before he moved closer as he continued to speak, "I wasn't even being serious. You have to try harder than that, Hibari Kyouya." Mukuro pressed hard on Hibari's neck, causing the prefect to choke slightly, before he abruptly let go, leaving red marks on that pale neck as Hibari coughed for air.

"I'm bored of playing with you today," Mukuro murmured, and with that, he walked away, closing up the full length of his trident.

Hibari was left standing there, panting and humiliated once again by the very same mismatched-eyed guy. The Skylark hated losing – but no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't win against Mukuro.

Yamamoto, who had been frozen by the action, hesitated on what to do. He didn't interrupt the fight because he knew Hibari would hate to be 'saved' by another person, but now that Mukuro was gone, he wasn't sure whether it would be fine to approach Hibari now either. Would Hibari be embarrassed that his lost to Mukuro was witnessed?

I had no idea Mukuro was that strong… Yamamoto thought. He had heard rumors that Mukuro was an ex-leader of a color gang and that he was involved in the actual mafia world, but Yamamoto didn't think that it could be true. But now, he wasn't so sure. After all, Hibari was an incredibly strong fighter, and he lost to Mukuro who, apparently, wasn't even being 'serious'.

"…who's there?" all of a sudden, Yamamoto was snapped out of his thoughts by Hibari's voice. "Answer me," Hibari repeated again, and Yamamoto realized that it was directed towards him.

No use in hiding now.

"Heh, it's just me, Hibari," Yamamoto stepped out from behind the wall, smiling sheepishly.

Hibari looked at him, before he went back to looking at the floor, "You saw."

It wasn't a question, but Yamamoto nodded anyways. The baseball player then slowly walked towards the prefect, making sure that Hibari was well-aware of his moves. Yamamoto could see that Hibari was upset, and he didn't want to risk making him anymore unhappier than he already was. But, surprisingly, even when Yamamoto was standing right next to Hibari, their shoulders almost touching, the prefect didn't seem to mind – or more accurately, he didn't seem to care, which was strange of him, nonetheless. Usually, Hibari would never allow anyone to come this close to him – not that Yamamoto minded.

Then, it was silent. Neither Yamamoto nor Hibari said anything as they stood there together. The pressure was eating Yamamoto up.

What should I do? Should I say something to him? Say what, though? Or do I just stand here and keep quiet? What am I supposed to do?

But then, all of a sudden, Hibari did something that stopped Yamamoto from thinking – and even breathing – altogether. The prefect leaned his head on Yamamoto's shoulders, those sharp eyes closed. Yamamoto stiffened, his heart thumping so hard he was afraid Hibari could hear, but he could do nothing about it. The weight of Hibari's head on his shoulders, the soft brush of his hair, the proximity of their bodies and most of all that faintly sweet scent of him… it was making Yamamoto crazy.

Yamamoto didn't dare speak nor breathe. His body was just tense, afraid that a slight movement would bring an end to this almost heavenly position. But even though Yamamoto didn't understand why the sudden intimacy occurred, he wasn't going to complain. He was already over the moon in happiness.

"Tired…" Hibari murmured softly as he exhaled, the sound causing goose bumps to run all over Yamamoto's body. It took all he had not to pull Hibari in and embrace that petite body close to his own.

Yamamoto wished that the moment could last forever, but as he felt something wet drip down his shirt, he had to interrupt the moment himself. "Ah- Hibari, you're bleeding." The blood from the cut on Hibari's cheek was leaking out so much it had started to drip onto Yamamoto's shirt and onto the floor.

"Hn," Hibari mumbled in response, slowly lifting his head up from Yamamoto's shoulders and lifting his fingers up to feel the cut. Yamamoto was unwilling to lose that rare intimacy with the prefect, but for him, Hibari's well being was more important.

"Let me see," Yamamoto murmured, pulling Hibari towards him to take a look at the cut. The wound, he realized, was actually deeper than he thought.

Hibari looked at Yamamoto's face curiously as the baseball player observed his cheek. Those brown eyes were filled with genuine worry and concern – it reminded him of someone all too well.

"You should go to the infirmary… come on," Yamamoto instinctively took hold of Hibari's wrist and started tugging him along. But as he realized what he was doing and was about to let go and apologize, he noticed that Hibari didn't actually try to pull away. Yamamoto, pleasantly surprised, paused for a moment, before smiled brightly to himself and continued to walk, firmly holding on to Hibari's small wrist – and the Skylark, for once, obediently followed the younger to the infirmary.

That hand. Warm. Just like him.

As soon as they reached the empty infirmary, Yamamoto let Hibari wait on the bed as he searched for the medical equipment. Then, he started on cleaning the cut.

The medicine stung, but Hibari wasn't one to complain on petty little pains. Instead, he focused on looking at Yamamoto, at the concentration in those eyes and that slight smile that seemed to be permanent on his face.

Yamamoto, noticing Hibari looking up at him, laughed shyly, "Heh, Hibari, if you keep on staring like that I can't focus."

"Hn," Hibari replied, changing his gaze to looking at the ceiling instead. From Yamamoto, he could smell a fresh scent of soap and shampoo, and he realized that he liked the smell. It was refreshing and clean… a scent that was very fitting for the baseball player. He also noticed Yamamoto's steady breathing, slightly longer than the average person – as expected of one who plays sports regularly. Though Hibari's eyes weren't focused on Yamamoto, his attention was still subconsciously on him.

Before Hibari knew it, Yamamoto was already applying the bandage to his face, smiling warmly at him, "Done."

Hibari looked up at him then, and found that Yamamoto was looking back down at him as well, those chocolate orbs meeting his sharp dark eyes. Only now did he realize the proximity between them – how close Yamamoto's face really was.

Yamamoto almost couldn't resist the temptation. Hibari's face was so close to his own, those slightly parted lips just begging to be kissed – but he held back, knowing that it would be way too soon. True, Hibari had let his guard down today, but that didn't mean he could take advantage of the situation. More than anything, Yamamoto feared that Hibari would hate him.

Thus, the baseball player settled for something much less, but intimate nevertheless. He reached up and gently traced the bandage on Hibari's cheek with his thumb, brushing away the strands of hair that were on the prefect's face. Hibari stared up at him, not fully happy with what he was doing but no rejecting him either. Their eyes were locked in that perfect moment for so long, Yamamoto's brown eyes looking at Hibari's in a way that made the prefect blush unwillingly, feeling the rush of blood in his cheeks. Yamamoto smiled, noticing that tiny blush, before he stood up and backed away from Hibari, satisfied with just that – for now, at least.

"…I better go now," Yamamoto said, walking towards the door before he waved at him, smiling brightly, "See ya, Hibari."

And then he was gone, leaving Hibari sitting there alone on the bed, Yamamoto's smile imprinted in his mind.

That… was close. Hibari thought. He knew that he had weakened today in front of Yamamoto – leaning on him like that, and allowing him to do much more than he should. But he never thought that it would have any effect on him. Just now, when Yamamoto was so close they could feel each other's breath, Hibari knew very well what could've happened – and yet, he didn't push Yamamoto away. The touch of Yamamoto's fingertips on him was still warm on his face, and he blushed once again remembering how gentle and careful Yamamoto was.

Then, Hibari shook his head, trying to snap himself out of it.

This was dangerous. He had been put in this situation before, and back then, it was also a moment of weakness like this that had led to a permanent scar inside of him. Hibari had gone through that pain – that heartache – before, and he didn't want to go through it again. Not anymore.

But he knew it would be hard – especially when Yamamoto reminded him so much of that person who scarred him.

A/N: I'll leave it to you to guess who 'scarred' Hibari ;) More Goku coming up in the next chap! Please review, my luvlay readers... for faster updates! :D