Hibari's Glare Softens

Hibari's unabashed closeness was unsettling. The Head Prefect's eyes betrayed a mad glint, but otherwise, his expression was fathomless and unreadable. Caught off guard, Yuka shifted her weight uneasily. Suffocated. I feel suffocated.

However, Yuka wasn't about to let him intimidate her that easily. She pushed her spectacles further up her nose.

"What's going on?" she huffed. "Can't you see I haven't finished watering the plants?" Her tone reeked of bold insolence and sarcasm. She pointed to the plants. There were only seven, barely a job that needed to be done. Meanwhile, the Disciplinary Committee members stared at her like they were watching their cell phones drop into a port-o-potty. What utter astonishment!

"You do jokes, too?" Hibari mocked, smiling evilly and his eyes locking into hers. "Give me my armband."

MAKE ME! She seemed to shout with her sharp violent eyes. But, it wasn't the time or place for raised voices. I have to be careful of how I behave. If the Disciplinary Committee saw the real me, my cover will be blown. But that doesn't mean I have to act like some servile maid!

She quickly scooped the gnarled armband from her skirt waistband and held it out to the Head prefect. It was now a mass of red thread, tangled beyond recognition.

"Don't say I didn't warn you," she explained with a hint of sass. He carefully took it from her and examined it closer.

For once in her life, she was proud that she sewed like a witchdoctor torturing a voodoo doll. It was in better condition before he gave it to her. Hibari clenched his teeth and he crushed the armband in his balled fist. His calm demeanor barely masked his irritation. The disciplinary committee watched the prefect badge switch hands, as if they were watching a tennis match. Their eyes followed the exchange.

Hibari stuffed it into his pocket. Then, with two hooked fingers, he loosened his uniform's necktie.

"Intolerable. I've decided to bite you to death."

Suddenly, his tonfa lashed out at her shoulder. Yuka dared not block. The disciplinary committee punks, with their gravity-defying hairstyles, had their eyes glued to her.

So she took the hit, feeling stupid as she crashed into one of the larger plants, a shrub with odd thin purple leaves. "Nnn" she grunted. She really could have avoided it. Still, she had some brains. Yuka tactfully used the watering pot to cushion her fall.

However, what difference would it make if the odd leaves were actually thorns.

"What's wrong with you? I thought this was a detention?" she hissed, wincing. I can't believe this guy! She carefully removed a stick of bristling thorns from her hair. Oh, boy, did she want to give him a piece of her mind. What right did he have to do that?

"You weren't taking me seriously, so I changed the punishment. Detention's over." Hibari was leaning over her, making her squeeze deeper into the shrub despite the pricks.

"I thought you would fight back, Ms. Woof-Woof," he taunted, his lips tilting playfully upwards and amusement flickering through his eyes. Yuka's horn-rimmed glasses were crooked on her ears, disturbed by her fall into the bush, and she had reddened from the surprise attack.

"Stop it—I actually can't fight back," she seethed quietly in reply. For a moment, hesitation conquered Hibari's features, allowing Yuka to slip past him and scramble out of the thorny leaves. She scooted onto the ground scratched, but not bleeding. The plastic watering pot had shielded her from most of the thorns.

Yuka took off her glasses and hung them from her uniform's collar.

They were in the way now.

Sitting on the floor next to the potted plant, she rubbed her scrapes and fixed her short disheveled hair. She glowered up at the prefect.

"What are you talking about? Your feet are fine," he said, recollecting himself. His tonfas were lowered to his sides, but he still gave her a piercing look. "Heh. I see how it is. I hate weak herbivores."

"You know, I would actually relish the opportunity," she began, furiously springing up. Hibari had to lean away or else the top of her head would have smacked his jaw. But he wouldn't get away that easy. She grabbed the collar of his white uniform dress shirt and pulled him close to her face. Pulled him close in the same way so many punks thought they could with her, faces lit up with their arrogant smirks and sexist wiles.

"Make them leave," she whispered almost inaudibly. She nodded to the now bug-eyed Disciplinary Committee to clarify. Hibari scowled and made to hit her off, but Yuka relinquished. She didn't need the bruise.

Released, Hibari closed his eyes in understanding. She was thankful. She was thankful? Yes, she might have the opportunity now to remove this parasite from her back without any witnesses getting in the way. Without any witnesses reporting to Varia.

Hibari turned to eye the Disciplinary Committee members, who had completely forgotten themselves. They blinked profusely as realization struck them.

"I don't like crowding," Hibari said frowning, and the room cleared in an instant.

We're finally alone. That means… That means I can do whatever I want…. Just like that, a wall within Yuka's mind, a wall built on the fear of Lal Mirch's horrific warnings, disintegrated.

She was free.

She was finally free.

Immediately, Yuka snatched and hoisted the gigantic watering pot, still half full of water, above her head. The prefect was still watching, with satisfaction, the last of his minions leave. Before he could turn around, she drenched him thoroughly with dirty plant water. Tonfas block kicks and punches, but are useless against two gallons of H-2-O. Water cascaded down his clothed form. Burning, she waited for him to brush his dripping wet hair out of his face.

But he didn't bother. Instead, his jacket dropped off his shoulders, soaking wet, onto the floor.

Hibari's steely orbs turned to Yuka's, water saturating his dark strands. Their eyes clashed like rumbling thunder, cold steel against purple iron. Both flamed with vehemence. She irradiated him beyond belief. He had humiliated her, blackmailed her, and withheld her mother's ring from her far too long. All restraint was gone.

"Hey," he began in a dark voice, "can I kill you?"

"By all means," Yuka answered, "try."

I need to get this out of my system.

He lunged. He moved so fast, she forgot to breath. Incredible. Still, her agility could keep up, her steps backwards being nimble and careful. And oh! The adrenaline. She had missed it. Lal Mirch's trainings could not arouse her as much as she was now.

The first two swings she dodged, twisting her body in graceful pirouettes. The third she blocked using the hard watering pot as a shield, halting in her spin. The blow was extraordinary, causing the entire piece of plastic to vibrate.

Both of them paused, frozen, eyes meeting in acknowledgment that neither was about to be taken down easily. Hibari broke their gaze first, taking another swing at her unprotected head. However, with a little trick of the neck, she ducked and retaliated with a crouching, sweeping kick from the floor. He jumped backwards to evade, putting distance between them.

Both paused and breathed heavily from the exertion.

"So this is the real you," he finally said, his eyes flickering with curiosity.

"What of it?" she retorted curtly.

But he didn't answer. He just smirked, taking a fighting stance. He lifted his left tonfa, holding it parallel to the ground. Yuka heard it click, watching his smile grow wider. The spikes. "Let's see how much you can handle."

He attacked again, but this time, much, much faster. All movement felt like a blur, and Yuka barely had enough time to react. Barely had enough time to think. Barely had enough time to breath. The bastard was holding back! But Yuka, too, was drunk off of the adrenaline coursing through her bloodstream. Too in the moment. Too busy. It didn't matter that he was holding back.

It had been a long time since she was in a real fight. Too long.

The reception room transformed into a battleground. In and out, they weaved between meeting tables and chairs, parrying and blocking and dodging. They jumped on desks and over the sofas, using the obstacles around the room in an attempt to trip each other. To befuddle each other. Her footwork was tested in these close-quarters. Tango came especially in handy, with its quirky hip movements. This clash with Hibari didn't feel like a street brawl.

It felt like a dance. And that same feeling, that same wonderful blissful feeling enveloped her. And even though Hibari seemed to disguise it with bloodlust, but she could tell: he was enjoying it just as much as her.

The same adrenaline.

The same rush.

The same bliss.

And for some reason, it just didn't feel like he really wanted to hurt her.

So the fight wore on. Hibari seemed shocked every time she landed a punch or a kick. His eyes would widen, and he would back off for a few seconds, as if to reorient himself. However, her blows were much weaker than his. He was, by far, her superior in strength.

Still, she was an artist in evasion. He only got two serious hits on her:

The first, he had cornered her behind his desk, managing to knock her in the ribs. Yuka did her best to hide the cringe, falling back to waltz through the isle between the coffee table and sofa. But he quickly caught up, grazing her arm, leaving a scratch from the spikes. He obviously knew the waltz too well. She had to be careful because every swipe he landed slowed her down.

Finally, Yuka noticed a pattern to Hibari's fighting style. His second swing is from the bottom to top, like a punch. She began to sketch a trap in her mind. It felt like designing choreography.

Carefully, she faked taking a hit that really only tore the hem of her skirt. Hibari, thinking he'd figure her out, swiped again, in the same way she had predicted.

And just like that, she caught his entire arm within the gaping hole of her now beloved green plastic watering pot. She praised it lovingly in her mind. Latching the end of his tonfa to the inside of the spigot, she yanked him closer to her. Hibari's eyes widened. He couldn't evade it—a sharp kick to the gut. Hibari's left tonfa was ripped from his grip, remaining inside the watering pot, while he staggered backwards a couple steps.

Their rhythm was broken. Both huffed and panted, catching their breath, and let their exhaustion settle. His eyes lingered on the pot as she pulled out his captured weapon. It was no longer covered in spikes. She glanced over it, and then returned the prefect's glare. His unscathed appearance aggravated her. How can I damage him with a blunt watering pot? In comparison, her uniform was almost in tatters.

His stoic reaction to her brilliant strategy ruffled her feathers further. He looks like he barely felt that kick! If only I were wearing heels. Then he'd be clutching his gut!

Yuka cast the trusty watering pot to the side and wielded Hibari's tonfa in mimicry of the prefect before her.

I don't know how to use this weapon, but it's made of metal. It's definitely an upgrade. The steel handle was still warm from her opponent's grip. The tonfa itself was lightweight, but felt awkward to use, not being something she held in front of her, but more on her side. Her eyes darted back to Hibari suspiciously.

"What?" she challenged, "Aren't you worried now that I actually have a real weapon?" She grinned maliciously.

We're even now. I got this.

Hibari's eyes had rested on Yuka as she equipped his tonfa—HIS tonfa, mind you. Yuka mistook it for jealousy. For irritation.

But his eyes rested on her—her skirt, her white uniform shirt. All torn from where his spike had not managed to scrape her. The pink hue in her face from the exercise. The circulation. The adrenaline. It was admirable. Magnificent. And even though Yuka looked worn out, she still clutched his tonfa, this a fiery resolution. And so, unnoticed by Yuka, Hibari's glare softened.

"Wow… you're tricky," he mused to himself, observing the way she gripped the steel handle. He was still breathing through his mouth. "But you're holding it wrong."

Am I? Does it matter? "Go to hell. You hold it just like this," she countered, lifting up his captured stick.

"Oh, you sound so sure," a malevolent smile spread across his face, making her feel uneasy. "You shouldn't have tossed aside the pot, herbivore."

"I know how to use a tonfa," she declared, "just like I knew how to use that pot. I don't see what the difference is." She was exasperated by his sudden cocky desire to have a conversation. "You think I go home and practice fighting with a watering pot all afternoon?" The comment struck Hibari, but he hid his reaction. She had been clever with the hunk of plastic.

Still, he noticed, why did her eyes wander to the corner she had tossed her green pot?

"Want to test me?" he challenged as he began to approach her with his deep masculine voice. His damp hair stuck to his cheeks and his awful foxy expression still mocked her. What was that look he gave her? Well, it wouldn't last long. She raised her tonfa horizontal to the ground, like he had at the beginning of the duel.

She placed her other hand careful on the waistband of her skirt.

"I don't need to be tested. There's nothing I hate more than pushy teachers."

"Che, suit yourself."

He pounced, forcing Yuka to defensively swipe at his neck. Hibari shifted to the side in an evasive step that look awfully like her own. His free hand shot out, vice-gripping her forearm and tonfa together.

He has the upper-hand. The revelation made her heart skip a beat.

"Let go!" she shouted, a little hysterical from a dangerous mixture of fatigue and fright. She launched a sidekick, but he block with his tonfa. She launched another. "Let go!" Another kick. Desperately. Desperatly trapped.

"No," he taunted, enjoying her flustered expression.

"I'm not finished with you yet. And like I told you, you were holding it wrong."

"I'm not holding it wrong," she growled. HOW THE HECK DO I TURN ON THE SPIKES? She tried now to pull her arm out of his grasp, but he tightened it.

"You think you can get away?" He asked rhetorically.

She paused to reassess her situation. Can I get away? No I must. It can't end like this. If I can just get closer to him.

"Yeah, I do." Hibari's eyes flickered momentarily at her tone. It was convincing.

She took a step towards him. This might be suicidal.

But it also might work.

She had hidden the sewing needle in her in her palm ever since she had placed her hand on her skirt waistband. She readied it in her hands.

Walking willingly into range, his tonfa immediately made contact with her stomach. But the pain, dizziness and disorientation from the blow didn't stop her.

They were close now, and both his hands were occupied, one holding her arm, the other, below her shoulders, near her gut. He was leaning down too. Perfect.

"Stupid," he said coldly, the glitter gone from his eye.

"Look who's talking, eh?" She had reached up and held the sewing needle just above his collar bone. She pricked him gently. "I've got a small blade on your neck, so let go," she growled softly. He couldn't see it was only a sewing needle. I hope this bluff works.

Hibari only looked at her sternly, but now, a little hesitant, a little uncertain, as if he were trying to read her mind. He eased off her stomach, but wouldn't let go of her forearm.

"Don't tell me you thought you won?" she mocked, reminding him with another prick. I'm really tired and want this to be over with. I want to go home. His hesitancy put her on edge. Is he going to fall for it?

"Tricky… so kill me then, Ms. Woof-woof." he chuckled bitterly. "Nice idea." Yuka's eyes widened as he smirked down at her. Drained of hope, she dropped the needle. It made a metallic clink as it hit the hardwood floor. Despondently, she bowed her head, focusing on her feet. He saw through the bluff. It wasn't good enough.

But it can't be over.

Hibari had leaned down, almost touching her forehead with his. His silky bang almost touched her forehead. "You give up?"

Is it over?

No.

Not after taking that hit in the gut.

Yuka's eyes sparkled. It's not over.

She straightened her entire body and head-butted him in the forehead—they were that close. It was a perfect hit, just how Lal Mirch had taught her, and the prefect toppled, half from fatigue, to the floor. But ever since Hibari had smashed his tonfa into her rib cage, he had been supporting her with it. Without him propping her up, she collapsed right on top of him, dead tired.

Hibari rubbed his forehead. Her fatigue from the fight was evident as she unsteadily propped herself up on her elbow. Her other hand clutched the pocket protector over his heart. His body was warm under her, and it felt nice. It felt comfortable.

She was that tired.

"Hibari, I win this round," she grinned. Oh, man, had she been waiting for this. She had unleashed so much bottled up hatred. Now, she sat confidently on this boy, feeling like the Queen of the World. And what a throne!

Underneath her, the prefect shot her a bitter look of disapproval.

"Just get off." Those gruff words brought her to realize her closeness, the overwhelming closeness. She was sprawled on top of him. Shakily, she began to lift herself up. Not fast enough. Impatiently, he pushed her to the side.

But because she still clutched his shirt for support, she ended up pulling him back down. Back down, and on top of her. Yuka's eyes widened and she gasped, trying to avoid what was happening. But she had no leverage.

"Ugh. You're heavy! Hnnn." She found some air to breathe. "Hibari!" She waited a moment, awkwardly, expecting for him to roll off. "

"Hibari?" she hissed. No response. His face was nuzzled into her neck and his breath tickled.

"Hibari, get off me." What is this, some kind of dumb joke?

She wriggled underneath, curling her fingers around his shirt, and she finally managed to free herself. She sat up and looked down at his motionless body.

"Hibari, get up." He still didn't move. She shook his shoulder. Still, nothing.

Then she was worried. "Hibari, can't you get up?" But he didn't get up. He didn't move.

Something's wrong. She rolled him over. He looked like he was asleep. What is it?

She checked his neck where she had pricked him, but what could that have done? She glided her fingers down his arm, and felt a tiny bump. A bump? She removed her fingers and a saw little pink bump …a mosquito bite?

"UH! THE SEDATIVES!"

She quickly fumbled with the lining of her skirt, where she had hidden the Trident Mosquito capsules Dr. Shamal had given her. She found that several had cracked open, probably from the fight, and obviously at least one had found a target. She hadn't wanted to use them.

"AUGGHHHH! NO! I didn't want this to happen." Her anguish was genuine. "Damn!" She banged her fist on the floor. She thought they were cowardly. They were spineless. They were pathetic. To let an annoying little bug do the work for me? Yuka frustration reached its peak. It wasn't a real fight. She hadn't really won. But then… I guess he's ok... he just won't remember what happened. That's a shame… He won't remember.. Yuka continued to look at him asleep.

He looks different like this. With his eyes close, the intimidating prefect didn't look so hostile. He didn't frown in his sleep. His expression was soft and delicate. It was… kissable.

He's… attractive. "Hmn. I like you better like this, sleeping beauty," she cooed in a low voice.

It felt funny referring to him as a fairytale princess, but the title fit none-the-less. She decided to pick him up and try putting him on the sofa to sleep, but he was too heavy. So instead, she propped him against his desk, and sat down next to him.

Is it criminal to drug the Head prefect?

Probably.

She unwrapped a stick of hot cinnamon gum. She always thought cinnamon gum was the taste of pain, hot and fiery, a challenge. She reserved it for celebrations. That she didn't really win? That was too disappointing a thought. What if the mosquito had bit him at the last second and she really did win? Yuka was happier to take this benefit of the doubt.

I've never fought anyone like him before. He's impressive… But not as strong as me. She chuckled, remembering how she stole his tonfa. But still why doesn't he look beat up? She leaned in closer to see if a punch she had landed on the side of his face had left a bruise at all.

…Augh, he's so handsome. She reached out to touch his damp jet black hair, still sticking to the edges of his face. Her fingers trailed to his soft, barely open mouth. Why was this boy so... so mesmerizing.

She glanced at his wet jacket, on the floor by the plants.

"Tsk. I got carried away."

She returned her attention to the drugged prefect. Her hand drifted slowly down to his black loosened necktie.

His tie is messed up, too. It was in disarray that could only match the stated of her leaf-blower hair. She glanced back at his slumbering face.

"Well, I did trash your armband…," she mumbled, as she fixed his black necktie, careful to make sure it was comfortably loose. Then she stood up and went to retrieve his jacket. It lay crumpled, sopping wet in a puddle on the floor. Delicately, she picked it up and her heart sunk. It was silk. I wish I hadn't thrown water at him.

Upon further inspection, she noticed two large holsters sewn to the inside lining. He must use these to hold his two tonfas. Their material doesn't match the jacket… Did he make these adjustments himself? She checked the stitches, which were small and neat. Yuka felt a tinge of jealousy.

Walking back to Hibari, she draped the wet jacket over the rim of the desk to dry. Then, she kneeled back at his side. Gosh, those lips. She liked the idea of kissing them. Sure, she was taking advantage of him, but, ugh, how many guys had tried to take advantage of her? It made sense.

Just a peck. She didn't mind giving away a kiss. She just didn't like them being taken.

Slowly, she leaned to his face, her nose rubbing against his, a hand pressed against his chest for support.

BAAAAAMMMMMMMMMM! The reception room door flew open!

Yuka jolted upward, almost falling backwards. She found herself gasping for breath, more embarrassed than ever.

"HIBARI? Are you here?" yelled a voice with an Italian accent.

"EH?" Yuka whipped around, fearful to be caught with the doped prefect. A tall, shaggy-blonde man in cargo pants and a loose t-shirt stood at the entrance to the reception room accompanied by another in a black suit.

"D-dino?" She rushed to the doorway, using her body to keep him from coming in and seeing the unconscious prefect.

"Yuka? HEY! I haven't seen you since you were in primary school! Man, its dark in here. Hey, have you seen the Head prefect? I'm looking for him."

Yuka was caught completely off guard. Dino was supposed to be in Italy. She hadn't seen him Lal Mirch had been assigned to keep an eye on the Vongola successor. Yuka was speechless.

"I…I…" Do I need an excuse? "I didn't know you were in Japan! I… I gotta go, Dino." She peeked over her shoulder at Hibari and felt a bit awkward for staying with him while he slept.

"But Yuka! It's been so long. I heard about the whole Midori Incident. I came to Japan on business, but I was looking forward to visiting you." Lal Mirch must have told him if he's calling it 'the Midori Incident.'

"What about my 'incident'?" She now glared at Dino. If he scolds me about it…

"Augh, I just wanted to check how you're doing in Namimori. I didn't think I'd find you in, uh, the reception room." How does he know Hibari anyway? "Your Aunt told me if I ran into you, she wanted me to pass on the message that Colonello is in town and that they're going out to dinner tonight." That's good. Then I'll have the apartment to myself.

Dino pushed into the room past Yuka, and saw Hibari passed out on the floor. He froze, glanced back at Yuka, then at the prefect, then back at Yuka while pointing at the prefect.

Yuka knew she had better explain. "Dino, uh, you see, he was giving me trouble. I couldn't… I couldn't just do nothing…" she ended in a quiet voice. "Please, please don't tell my Aunt." She raised her eyes to him earnestly, and the tattooed Italian couldn't refuse.

Dino paused, seriously contemplating the situation. He stared suspiciously at Hibari's lax body.

"I won't tell Lal Mirch," he finally said. "But answer me this, how did you get involved with Tsuna's Cloud Guardian?"

"Well, he gave me a detention and one thing sort of led to another and—WAIT! Cloud guardian—?" Yuka looked down at Hibari, then back at Dino while pointing at the body. "He's a Vongola guardian? He's in the Mafia?" A stone dropped in her stomach. Why hadn't anyone told me? He wasn't at Reborn's welcome party…

"Mm yeah," answered Dino. He seemed lost in contemplation.

This is messed up. Why does no one tell me ANYTHING important?

All along—I don't have to hide from him if he works for Tsuna.

"Uhh, Dino, umm, did my Aunt mention the trident mosquitoes that Dr. Shamal gave me…?" Her urgent eyes met Dino's and he understood. "I won't tell Lal Mirch you used them so quickly either," he said chuckling.

"It was an accident, actually," she sharply corrected

"Of course, of course. Secret's safe."

"Dino, I'm just worried that he might have overdosed. I, uh, well, I might have used more than one." Yuka eyed the floor, her arms crossed over her chest loosely. Dino remembered how when she was little, that was a sign that the mischievous brat was truly sorry. His face softened.

"I'll take care of him," he said reassuringly.

"Thanks," she said, sighing in relief. "Listen, I'll see you around. I missed you, too." She beamed at the blonde. "You always clean up my messes, Dino." Dino was walking her to the door, looking slightly confused over his shoulder at the prefect.

"I want to get a tattoo, soon," Yuka continued, "Of a flying swan on the back of my neck. Will you come with me to get it done?" She had always admired his collection of flaming skulls and twisting thorns on his muscular arms. She eyed that arm, clamped over her shoulder to lead her out of the room.

"You know I will. But only if Lal Mirch gives you permission."

Yuka face soured at the mentioning of her Aunt. It's my body. I shouldn't need her permission.

"AUGH! Why do you always take her side, Dino?" she burst out, angry that he was treating her like a baby. They stood outside the entrance to the reception room.

"Heh. It's because Lal Mirch has you under her thumb that you're still alive. Seriously, her rules are what's keep you from pulling stupid stunts and getting killed. Like this collision with the prefect, very stupid." He lifted up a tear in the belly of her white shirt to prove his point.

But I became strong so I could have my freedom, not to be restrained under my Aunt's stupid rules. So that no one could push me around.

Dino continued, "I remember, the last time you didn't listen to her, you had that horrible time at the Mafia Ball—"

"Shut UP!" Yuka interrupted heatedly. "I hate that ball and I hate those punks, ESPECIALLY that stupid black-haired girl from Shimon family!"

"Oh. Suzuki Adelaide? I remember her. What did she do, look at you the wrong way?" Dino teased sarcastically.

"Tsk. It wasn't like that, Dino. You'll never understand what she did to me." Yuka looked vexed. Then, taking a last, uncertain glance at Hibari in the reception room, she left to go back home.

God, I'm exhausted.

"Hibari, cut the crap."

Dino returned into the reception room, his whip now hanging at his side. Romario stood by guarding the entrance. Dino's attitude became much more serious after the girl had left.

"I don't know why you're toying with Yuka, but, fuck, she's Lal Mirch's niece." Dino crouched next to Hibari, staring fixedly at his face.

"Hibari? I know you're awake. There's no way in hell Shamal's meds can sedate you."

Slowly, the prefect's eyes creaked open with a brilliant anger glittering inside.

"Can't you knock?" Hibari growled.

Dino quirked his eyebrow. "Oh, did I interrupt something. What were you and Yuka doing?"

"None of your business." Hibari's eyes narrowed, glinting unpleasantly. Dino backed away a little now that he was awake.

"Why were you pretending to be unconscious, anyway?"

"I was sleepy."

Dino paused again, thinking carefully. He'd always considered Yuka to be his little sister. But last time she caught him asleep, she drew all over his face. Why didn't she do the same to his mentee? Slowly, a theory creeped into his mind. It was a theory that his brotherly instincts could not allow.

"Hibari, do me a favor and don't get involved with Yuka-chan," Dino said in a tone that didn't sound like a plea but an order. "You know, she has enough problems in her own life. She's made a lot of dangerous enemies recently. I don't want you provoking her."

"Enemies with who?" Hibari's tone demanded an answer. Dino was worried that the prefect utterly disregarded his request.

"Reborn will tell you if you need to know. Like I said, you shouldn't get involved with Yuka-chan. You have other priorities," Dino explained, taking his whip in both hands. "Anyway, I came to talk about the Vongola ring. Why aren't you wearing it?"

"The baby knows, eh?" A frown graced Hibari's stern face. "Fine." Nonchalantly, he fought the narcotic and picked himself up. Then, he reached for his jacket dangling from the edge of the desk, and slung it over his shoulder. The mad glint had returned.

"Talking about the ring is not my main concern, as long as I can bite you to death."