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Disclaimer: FANfiction. I only own the OC. Any changes to the original canon story is due to the fact that this is fanfiction.
Warning: May contain coarse language.
A week off from missions — that had been the final order of the somewhat questionable doctor they'd called in to assess her injuries. Surprisingly enough, the tactics captain hadn't been too angry when he had tripped over Riko curled up and sleeping on the doorstep, and instead of kicking her awake, had Lussuria make a call to the creepy doctor that Riko was deathly afraid of.
Actually, now that she thought about it, maybe calling Shamal in had been the punishment. Riko shuddered involuntarily as she recalled Shamal's attempt to use his trident mosquito to examine her. The hair-raising frequency of the mosquito's buzz… the unnecessarily sharp proboscis… the unsettling head-to-body ratio…
"Fucking mosquitoes…" Riko muttered darkly as she rolled over and took another bite of the half-eaten protein bar in her hand. It was after hours and she would have usually been on her way to her latest mission now, but the fact that she had been banned from them for a week meant she was free to do whatever she pleased.
Normally, the prospect of time-wasting was one the assassin gleefully welcomed with open arms, but she'd been feeling restless since she had gotten back, and nothing she did seemed to keep her attention for longer than five minutes. So, as a result, she had found a storage room in the gymnasium, rolled out a mat and proceeded to work her way through a box of protein bars while she curled up on the floor in the darkness listening to Nicki Minaj rap about boy toys named Troy who used to live in Detroit.
So far, so good. Half an hour had passed and the urge to get up and leave had not hit her yet.
"MY ANACONDA DON'T, MY ANACONDA DON'T, MY ANACONDA DON'T WANT NONE UNLESS YOU—"
"Riko?"
Hearing her name through the sound of her own voice, the acrobat looked up to see a pair of warm brown eyes staring down at her with a wide smile. Riko immediately sat up, startled by the rain guardian's sudden appearance. "Takeshi! What's up?" she asked, before adding with a wink, "Besides the temperature, of course. It must be difficult in the summers when you're this hot all the time, si?"
"You're looking good yourself!" Yamamoto chuckled as he walked over to a box in the corner, picking it up. "I just came to get some balls for baseball practice," he explained as he looked over at her, his gaze falling to the box on her lap and the wrappers scattered around her. "Wh-why are you here—?"
"Eh, just trying to kill some time. It's harder than it sounds," Riko shrugged, holding up a protein bar, "Protein bar? It's cookie dough. It's got massive chunks of chocolate in them."
"Not right now, thank you. Maybe later when I'm done?" the box in his arms jostled as he shifted slightly, "Why are you bumming around here? Don't you have club activities?"
"Club activities? Me?" Riko scoffed at the blasphemous suggestion. Being part of a squad of deadly assassins was as good a group-based activity as it was going to get for her. "You don't know me at all, do you, Takeshi?"
"Hey, I'd hang out with you but you always seem to disappear off somewhere as soon as the bell rings!" Yamamoto then raised an eyebrow, "Speaking of which, why didn't you do that today?"
"So many questions, but so little time to answer them all," Riko waved a hand airily, easily dodging the question, "Don't you have club activities?"
The fact that his teammates were waiting at the field suddenly entered his mind. "Oh, right! I totally forgot!" He ran a hand through his hair while he grinned sheepishly, before an idea popped into his head. "Hey, why don't you come and watch us practice?"
Black eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "Why would I want to do that?"
"It's better than eating and rapping in the dark, I think."
"Touché, signor, touché."
xxxxxx
Riko was most definitely an athletic person, considering the fact that she was being paid a very large sum every month to just basically run, jump and climb. However, athleticism and sports were in no way synonymous, according to the acrobat, because fifteen minutes into the baseball practice, she found herself muttering the words, "What the fuck?" every ten seconds as the game proceeded. Asking one of the boys on the bench to explain the game to her was probably useless, because the moment their eyes had landed on the red badge pinned onto her uniform sleeve, they had clammed up and scooted over to the furthest end of the bench.
Bloody wimps.
"Oh shit, Yamamoto's pitching?" she heard one of the boys near her murmur to the one beside him.
"Tanaka's going to miss it for sure!"
"I feel more sorry for Daiki — he's going to have to catch the ball."
"Ouch."
Curious, Riko craned her neck to see Yamamoto walking to the middle of the field, with a glove in one hand and a baseball in the other. The batter and the backstop both had equally terrified expressions as the rain guardian grinned sunnily at them while he stretched out his pitching arm.
"Say," Riko decided to speak to the nearest boy, "Is Takeshi really good at this game?"
He winced at the sound of Riko's voice, and shakily turned to face her. "Y-Yamamoto is the star of t-the team," he explained with a nervous smile; his eyes fixated on the Disciplinary Committee's badge blazing against the white of her sleeve, "H-He's been s-scouted to play for the top schools b-but declined all of the offers."
"Huh," Riko raised her brows, vaguely impressed despite the fact that she knew he was a lot better with a blade than he was with a bat. "Is this game the Japanese equivalent of football or—"
"WATCH OUT!"
At the sound of Yamamoto's voice, Riko immediately turned her head to see a baseball flying towards her direction, but it seemed to be gaining height as it travelled. Her instincts kicked in and before she knew it, she was over eight feet up in the air, her arms stretched out, and within seconds, the ball was in her hands.
The blinding pain that rippled through her entire back came almost immediately as soon as she landed with a somersault.
"Merda," she swore, releasing the ball onto the ground as she stumbled, her hand clamped over her shoulder. The wetness the seeped through her sleeve was unmistakable — she had reopened the wounds.
"Hey, that was insane!" The sounds of feet crunching on gravel got louder as someone jogged over to her. With great effort, Riko raised her head to see Yamamoto's smile slowly dissipate as a look of concern took over his face. "Are you okay, Riko?"
"Just peachy," she forced a grin, "Ever tried the hammer throw, Takeshi? It's an Olympic sport that might be more your speed."
She attempted to stand up, but a stab of pain made her knees buckle, and she stumbled again, but Yamamoto managed to hook an arm around her waist before she fell. His eyes were immediately drawn to the bright scarlet patches that stained almost the entirety of the back of her white uniform, and his mouth parted with shock. "You're bleeding!"
"Nah, I'm just sweating."
"It's blood!"
"Europeans are such avid drinkers that they start their kids pretty young. That's wine you're seeing, Takeshi. We drink so much in Europe, we sweat wine."
"Riko, this isn't funny! What happened?!"
The rest of the baseball team started to crowd around them, and someone had gone to get a teacher. Riko blanched at the thought of the school nurse discovering her bullet wounds and, well, that was a scenario that she would much rather not have escalated. She leaned over and whispered into Yamamoto's ear, "I'd rather not explain to the school nurse why a sixteen-year-old has bullet wounds."
Realization dawned on the brunette's face.
Of course.
He should've known.
He deftly unworked his jacket, pulled it around Riko's shoulders and zipped it up, keeping an arm around her the whole time as he did so. The acrobat quietly relished not having to support her own weight, as Yamamoto managed to hold her up without a problem.
"Takeshi, I'd hate to impose on you further, but we should leave before I get caught."
"Of course," he nodded grimly. It had taken him a while, but Yamamoto had finally gotten past the stage of denial and firmly accepted that he had been fighting real dangers and battles, rather than playing a role-playing game, when he had almost lost his legs two years ago. He knew the implications of anyone finding out about Riko's extracurricular activities — it would mean that his friends' secrets would get exposed as well.
Riko yelped when she felt herself being lifted, her feet dangling in the air as Yamamoto's arms supported the crook of her knees and her shoulders. He walked out of the circle, turning back to say to his teammates, "I'll bring her to the infirmary, so don't worry about it!"
As they got further away from the baseball field, Yamamoto took a detour around the back of a building, and they found themselves in the main courtyard. "This is far enough," Riko decided, "As much as I'm enjoying this, I'd better get on home. Could you please put me down?"
"No." Yamamoto looked down at her unsmilingly, which surprised the Varia assassin. It was the first time she'd seen the rain guardian without a smile on his face, and it was oddly very unsettling (and attractive, but he was being annoying at the moment, so she would not admit that).
"Why the fuck not?"
"You can't walk, can you?"
"I can very fucking well crawl!"
"Just let me take you home! You're in no condition to be alone right now."
"You're very handsome, Takeshi, and your company would be fantastic, but I am not about to let you do that. Kisame would boil me in a pot of his wrath and sauté me with a dash of murder."
Riko's outlandish description made Yamamoto crack a smile. "I'm sure Squalo's going to be worried about you."
"Bitch please, he's more likely to—"
"Yamamoto Takeshi…" A quiet, low voice cut in, sending involuntary shivers down Riko's spine, "What are you doing to that herbivore?"
The pair turned around to see Hibari standing a few feet away from them, arms folded across his chest. Riko swallowed thickly when she saw his face — there it was. Yet another emotion that did not fit within the triangle of emotions that she had previously assumed were the only ones Hibari had. Why did she feel like she was caught between a rock and a hard place?
xxxxx
It had been a relatively uneventful afternoon for the head prefect of Namimori High's Disciplinary Committee, as he patrolled the school grounds like he normally did whenever he felt like it. Hibari had been enjoying Hibird's company as he walked out of the main building and into the courtyard, when he saw a pair of students he had never seen together before: Yamamoto Takeshi and that infuriating girl, Yang Riko.
For some reason, the moment he had laid eyes on them, an indescribable anger bubbled within his chest, and oddly enough, it was only directed towards the rain guardian. A stream of questions popped up in his head, and he dismissed them as quickly as they came.
Just when exactly had they gotten acquainted?
Why was he carrying her like that?
Why was he touching her like that?
Why were their faces so close?
Why was she wearing his jacket?
His jacket?
Why did it matter so much that Yang Riko was wearing Yamamoto Takeshi's jacket?
Why did anything matter at all?
Why was he angry?
The last question, Hibari easily found an answer to. They were violating some sort of school rule, surely, by being as intimately close as they were. Of course, no rules came to mind at the moment, but he was sure to find something in the rule book later. He probably didn't have it as fully memorised as he had thought he did.
Time to dish out some punishment.
"Yamamoto Takeshi… What are you doing to that herbivore?"
The athlete turned around, his curiosity shifting into a bright smile when he saw the cloud guardian looking at them. "Ah, Hibari! What a pleasant surprise!"
No, it wasn't. Hibari narrowed his eyes slightly. "I'm not going to repeat myself another time, Yamamoto Takeshi. You and that herbivore are violating Namimori High's code of conduct."
"That's a fucking lie if I ever heard one," Riko scoffed loudly, earning herself a paralyzing glare from the prefect.
"Now, now, Riko. You don't want to start a fight, do you?" Yamamoto chuckled, half-nervous. As dense as he was sometimes, it was very clear that Hibari wasn't happy about something, and Riko being Riko, she would probably earn herself a beating from the prefect if she wasn't careful.
Oh, if he only knew how many times she'd landed herself in that exact situation!
Hibari walked towards them, and stopped when he was only inches away from them. His arms itched to grab the girl out of Yamamoto's arms, but he kept the urge to himself. "Stop this immediately," he ordered coolly.
"Sorry about breaking the rules, but Riko's hurt," Yamamoto shrugged apologetically, "She needs medical attention and I don't think she can get back home on her own."
There was a short pause before Hibari suddenly grabbed Riko, startling both the acrobat and Yamamoto. Riko let out a strangled yelp as she was jostled around in Hibari's arms, and felt the jacket being yanked off her, and watched in horror as he flung it into a stunned Yamamoto's face before walking out of the school grounds.
How Hibari had managed all that without dropping her, she would never know.
She glared indignantly up at him as she angrily hissed, "What the fuck was that for, Kyoya?!"
Hibari looked down passively. "Hm. You're bleeding into my shirt again."
"And whose fault is that, you dick? You practically ripped Takeshi's jacket off of me!"
"How are you acquainted with Yamamoto Takeshi?"
Caught off-guard by the sudden question, Riko's anger faded as it was replaced with confusion. "Does it matter?"
"It matters to me."
"Why the fuck would it matter to you?"
"You're mine."
Against her better judgement, embarrassment burned throughout Riko's entire face at Hibari's straightforward answer, surprised. A moment of silence ensued as Hibari continued walking, and Riko actively prevented herself from resting her head against his chest while she twiddled her thumbs, thinking of what to say. Vaguely, somewhere in the back of her mind, she wondered why being carried in his arms felt so familiar.
"Wh-what d-do yo—"
"You're my underling, so the kind of people you choose to associate yourself with is of concern to me."
Oh.
Of fucking course.
Riko wanted to stab herself in the eyes for reacting to Hibari's misleading words in a manner she considered to be unholy. What the fuck was wrong with her? Shyness was not an emotion to be felt in Hibari Kyoya's demonic presence! "Why don't you just dump me in a garbage can already?!" she spat angrily.
"I'm taking you home, you idiot."
"You don't even know where I live, dickhead!"
"Who do you think sent you home after you fell asleep at the shrine?"
"What the fuck are you talking about?" Riko stared up at Hibari, her eyes narrowing with skepticism. What did he mean by sending her home—? Riko's eyes widened with realisation.
No wonder being in his arms felt so familiar. Hibari had been the one to deliver her home when she'd fallen back to sleep at the shrine while he had been speaking to Kusakabe. Discovering this tidbit of information was, to say the least, surprising, because Riko had been convinced that Hibari would've just left her to find her own way home. Now that she thought about it, Hibari's actions towards her as of lately had been nothing short of inconsistent, because random acts of kindness had been shoved in erratically amongst the usual cruelty and cold treatment.
As she surreptitiously snuck a glance at Hibari's face, she accidentally caught his eye, and the prefect looked down at her.
"What?"
"Nothing."
Maybe she was just overthinking it.
Do you think she was overthinking it?
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Delphoxi