It was a slightly warm but comfortable night, despite it being so late. Mukuro yawned, his mouth open as if he were displaying all his teeth. Uncivilised? Who cared.

He had just been about to close up when he saw a familiar figure walking down the empty road, seemingly towards him. The figure grew closer, and he confirmed that, yes, they were really walking towards him. He rolled his eyes and pushed the door open, holding it for Kyoya.

"It's late," he stated with a disapproving tone as he walked past, brushing shoulders momentarily.

"I know," was the distant reply he received. He followed through and shut the door; only then realising he'd forgotten to change the welcoming sign displayed on the glass door from 'Open' to 'Closed'. It wasn't that Mukuro didn't enjoy his company - in fact, it was the complete opposite - but for Kyoya to make his way over by free will was new behaviour, and he suspected something large had happened.

Sighing, he went ahead and turned the sign over to say 'Closed'.

Grimacing under his breath, Mukuro lifted his hand off the handle and walked over to his counter, thoroughly taking his time. Once reaching it - though it wasn't much of a journey at all - he promptly lifted out the wooden chair behind it and placed it on the other side with a loud thud. He stood there with his hands on the top of the rest for a while; Kyoya was being almost completely silent, and it was eerie to hear the faint ticking of the wall clock after the loud noise.

Shrugging, he pushed the chair forward, making sure to drag out the sound as much as possible before climbing onto the seat - his legs on either side of the backrest and his arms resting on the top of it. He decided now was a good time to question Kyoya.

"So? What's the occasion, hmm?" He gave a pseudo-yawn at the end of this just to spite the teenager; the brat probably specifically chose to come at this time - that, or he'd been taking an inconvenient eight hour long nap, starting from the end of school to now. He knew for a fact that Kyoya always went straight home from school on Wednesdays and Thursdays, being the friendless and so-called heartless guy he was.

"Wait," Kyoya called from deep within the shelves. Mukuro gave an irritable sigh at his seemingly-nonchalant voice. He stretched the joints in his hands, making sure he cracked all of his knuckles.

"You know, that's really nice of you. First, you barge into my store at the dead of night. Now, when I ask you why, you tell me to 'wait'? Don't you think I deserve an immediate answer for being so kind?"

"I'm concentrating. Be quiet or I'll bite-"

"Me to death, I know," Mukuro finished off, glancing at the floorboards. He was met with silence, other than the occasional shuffling and familiar sound of book sliding against book.

He lightly grinded his teeth impatiently, resting his jaw on the slight indent it left on the top of his hand. Although it'd only really been up to three minutes, the waiting period Mukuro had to endure before Kyoya finally emerged from the bookshelves was excruciating - it seemed more like ten minutes, and the steady, faint ticking of the clock directly behind him only seemed to elongate the time it took. It was almost as if it were teasing him.

Kyoya emerged from the shelves a moment later. "You're finally out," Mukuro stated blandly, gesturing to a chair for the boy to sit in. He was holding a photobook he recognised as one called 'The Colour of a Heart'. It was a relatively new arrival which was a personal favourite of Mukuro's: a collection of photographs shot in the photographer's hometown using a cheap, toy camera, where the theme was nostalgia. It was an interesting concept, but not so much as it was just plain pretty.

"I was wondering whether or not this would be suitable for a naïve little kid," Kyoya said, staring lazily at the cover. He took a seat that was opposite Mukuro's, and added, "It seems like he really likes photobooks. Explainable, though. He doesn't even understand novels."

Mukuro frowned and tilted his head to the side, his mouth slightly agape. Kyoya only seemed to act more strange as the night went by. "It's pretty expensive. I'm sure a kid wouldn't be able to appreciate it as much as I would. Why don't you give it to me instead, hmm?"

"Alright, never mind. I meant to say, he's a naïve teenage boy."

"Teenage boy?" he echoed. The extra information didn't help clarify the situation any more - in fact, it only made it all the more cryptic. "So it's for yourself?"

"If it were for myself, I would've made it clear."

Mukuro didn't know how he could stand Kyoya's attitude, especially at this time of the night where he was extremely tired and irritable. "Okay, okay. So it's for some other guy. What's the occasion?"

Kyoya's breath hitched slightly, and he looked down at the book in his hands. "It's a gift."

"Yeah, that bit's obvious. I mean, what happened to you? Weren't you supposed to be the untouchable, snarky guy who never opened up to anyone? Well, except me. I'm kinda hurt that you'd give that privilege to someone else."

Although he said the last sentence with an evident joking tone in his voice, he did really feel that way. His age didn't mean his mentality had changed from the time when he was a little kid: demanding, immature and shockingly honest. But as always, Kyoya paid it no mind.

"We're going out," Kyoya said, a slight waver in his usually-even voice. Mukuro couldn't help but by reflex, let out a gasp, as if the air had been punched out of his lungs.

"Going out?" he repeated incredulously. He waited for Kyoya to maybe elaborate, but he didn't speak another word. After a short silence, Mukuro snorted.

"That's unbelievable. You, out of all people? I have to record this momentous occasion in a book or something."

"Be quiet," Kyoya shot back, eyeing Mukuro. It was clear he was more than just a little annoyed, but he knew - they both knew - Mukuro wouldn't ever stop teasing him until the day he died.

"'Be quiet', he says, even though he came here by himself. Incredible," he remarked, an amused smile on his face. He sunk into his arms a bit more comfortably, keeping his vision in sight of the high-schooler.

"Oh, by any chance- Is this guy you're going out with, uh..." he drifted off, glancing at Kyoya quickly. He stifled a laugh - it was like Kyoya had caught a disease. He'd never seen him in this state before, flustered and was that a hint of embarrassment showing on his face? Even though it was obvious they both knew what he was about to say, he went ahead with it just to watch him squirm more.

"Angel boy?"

"Yes, he is. I told you to be quiet."

At his reply, Mukuro leaned back, arching it gracefully to give himself a refreshing stretch. Exhaling, he leaned back forward, draping his hands over the rest and an amused grin on his face. He'd seen the infamous cold, unfeeling Kyoya turn red a few times before, but even so, it was still a rare happening. He chuckled under his breath. "That's lucky, huh?" he said lightly, more as a statement than some attempt to converse with Kyoya.

They sat in this comfortable silence for a good length of time, when Mukuro decided now was a good time to make Kyoya even more uncomfortable - that was his punishment for making him stay after closi f hours. Not that he wouldn't do it for Kyoya under average circumstances, anyway. Smiling lopsidedly, he said as casually as he could, "Oh, remember the first time you came to my shop?"

"Yeah."

"You were way cuter back then."

"That was only a year ago."

Sighing deeply, Mukuro got out of his chair in big, swift motions and shook his head, a mock-distraught expression on his face. "Only a year ago? You grow up so fast."

Kyoya narrowed his eyes, and also got out of his chair. "You're mocking me, aren't you?"

"Yeah, yeah. You still buying that book?"

"Oh, right." Kyoya slid the book over the counter, where Mukuro was already standing. He received it with a gentle smile on his face - he tended to become that way when he was handling books. They were his passion, and he treated them with the utmost care, as a mother would a child.

"I'll giftwrap it for you. This seems like an important, fancy occasion, huh? What colour?" Mukuro asked after scanning the book and receiving the payment. He made his way to his various cupboards in advance, waiting for an answer.

Kyoya stared at the book, slightly chewing on his bottom lip. Some time passed, and Mukuro started to get tired from the crouching position. He was about to hurry him up and choose a random colour, when Kyoya said, "The colour of the sky."

"How cheesy," he teased - nevertheless, he pulled out the blue paper and twine, his obviously experienced hands wrapping the book into a neat parcel. Kyoya watched his actions thoughtfully - maybe if Mukuro had this same smile and his actions were as graceful as his hands now, he wouldn't act like such a kid around him all the time.

Blinking, Kyoya hadn't realised he'd been zoning out until Mukuro quickly slided the wrapped book over to Kyoya. "Here you go," he offered, a satisfied smirk on his face. Kyoya took the book, holding it in both hands with a firm grip.

"Thanks."

"No problem," Mukuro said, ducking under the counter, "now go home! It's half past midnight already!"

Pushing Kyoya to the door, Mukuro opened it and ran out alongside him, immediately locking the door. "Finally closed. I'll walk you home," he said, shoving his set of keys in his pocket.

"That's not necessary."

"Hmm?" Mukuro grinned. "Do you just want to be alone, or are you concerned about me?"

Kyoya sighed irritably, turning the other way and starting on his walk back home - he often had a way of twisting around words to his own liking and convenience. After he'd taken a few steps, Mukuro yelled, "See you tomorrow!"

Kyoya lazily waved his free hand in the air as if he were to say, "Good night,' as well.

A/N: IT HAS REALLY BEEN A LONG TIME, HUH? sweats nervously BUT

HERE IS A chapter on mukuro and hibari though! i enjoyed writing it hoho