Flights of Fancy
*** OOC Warning here. =.=||| ***
Sometimes, when an idea is placed into someone's head, it lodges there, and no matter what they do; it does not go away, it refuses to be shaken or cowed. It's something they never ever would have considered, yet, now that the idea has been introduced... it can no longer be forgotten.
It may seem fanciful, but sometimes, it may only make you recognise the truth about yourself.
It was out of the blue, completely unaccounted for that Mukuro drew Hibari aside with an unusually serious expression.
"Kyoya, I love you."
Hibari didn't believe those words for a second, merely gave Mukuro a frowning look, turned and left. He did not look back and days passed before they saw each other again. It was never mentioned.
But Hibari could not help thinking about it - who wouldn't, after such a shock? But the more he told himself (in vain) to disregard those pretty words, the more he dwelled on it.
What exactly had Mukuro said?
Why would he say such a thing?
Why did he look like that?
Were... weren't they both men?
The thoughts invaded him day and night unless he poured all his attention into his tasks, but they still managed to creep into his dreams, invading. This only infuriated him more, and he was irritable during the day, to the dismay of Kusakabe and his other subordinates he ruthlessly abused.
Why was he even deigning to think about this matter. Why had it been worth his attention at all? Why had he not dismissed it at once? By even considering it, he had lost already, and Hibari did not like to lose.
But it was too late.
Somewhere within him had secretly grown a seed of anxiety and anger as the weeks lengthened and he avoided the illusionist as much as he could, not wanting to stir up the old memories and be reminded of that time again. But sometimes there was no choice but to have to be around that hateful person. He turned his head, pretended to ignore him, that the Mist Guardian had somehow escaped his notice just accidentally. But the truth was, he did not want to look at him. He could not meet Mukuro's eyes.
He didn't want to know what he would see there.
Eventually Mukuro caught on as the weeks of silence lengthened and accepted the fact that perhaps he had done something irreparable with his hastiness. He began to avoid Hibari too, or at least it seemed that way from his extended absences. Hibari wondered why the illusionist's absence caused such a ache in his chest and why he was carefully curious whenever a meeting came up that Mukuro might attend, although he never showed up. Finally he snapped. He didn't want to play this stupid meaningless game anymore.
He'd had enough of this.
"Go. I want that mission completed by sundown." Tsuna had ordered, shuffling the papers on his desk. "Those men need to be detained by any means necessary."
Gokudera was there with them, but it didn't shake the fact that Mukuro was as well for the first time in months, and very close. They say that absence makes the heart grown fonder. Perhaps the months of not seeing the illusionist had made him unaccustomed to the effect the Mist Guardian had on him. Each time he accidentally brushed Mukuro's shoulder... he would feel a little odd inside.
Why was that?
It took Mukuro's almost being struck down for Hibari to understand. Striking down an assailant, the man fired off a wild shot before dropping like a stone. Flicking the blood off his tonfa's coldly, Hibari turned in time to see an earlier attacker back to consciousness and aiming his pistol at the oblivious Mukuro. Diving at the illusionist in time to knock him sideways, they avoided the bullet which sailed over their heads, and Hibari had the attacker's head fractured by the next second. In the space of that second Hibari had realised the very immediate danger of losing Mukuro, Hibari had realised what he did not want to admit, not even to himself.
Even so, he wasn't ready to admit it aloud just yet.
"Th-thank you, Kyoya." Mukuro's voice was quiet, different from his usual playful tones. "That was careless of me."
"Pay more attention." Hibari replied brusquely, which was the equivalent of a 'Don't mention it' in his books.
Mukuro nodded and turned to leave, but Hibari's hand had halted him before Hibari had even realised he had moved. Dropping the grip he had on Mukuro's arm, Hibari stepped up beside the pineapple-haired man and looked him in the eyes with a glare for the first time in a long stretch.
"Let's go." He said almost reluctantly.
Mukuro's smile at those words, was one he remembered well.
Everything was the way it should be.
_______________________________________________________________________________
I found it. It WAS on my laptop at home. >_>
This is pretty much unedited and purely emotive writing. I hope it's believable.
Don't ask about the title. That's what the .rtf file was named.
(No, I don't use Word anymore. I can't on this laptop. =_= And OpenOffice annoys me.)
ETA: Okay, so I edited it some. Hopefully everyone else who reads this will not be so WTF anymore. XDDD;
Sometimes, when an idea is placed into someone's head, it lodges there, and no matter what they do; it does not go away, it refuses to be shaken or cowed. It's something they never ever would have considered, yet, now that the idea has been introduced... it can no longer be forgotten.
It may seem fanciful, but sometimes, it may only make you recognise the truth about yourself.
It was out of the blue, completely unaccounted for that Mukuro drew Hibari aside with an unusually serious expression.
"Kyoya, I love you."
Hibari didn't believe those words for a second, merely gave Mukuro a frowning look, turned and left. He did not look back and days passed before they saw each other again. It was never mentioned.
But Hibari could not help thinking about it - who wouldn't, after such a shock? But the more he told himself (in vain) to disregard those pretty words, the more he dwelled on it.
What exactly had Mukuro said?
Why would he say such a thing?
Why did he look like that?
Were... weren't they both men?
The thoughts invaded him day and night unless he poured all his attention into his tasks, but they still managed to creep into his dreams, invading. This only infuriated him more, and he was irritable during the day, to the dismay of Kusakabe and his other subordinates he ruthlessly abused.
Why was he even deigning to think about this matter. Why had it been worth his attention at all? Why had he not dismissed it at once? By even considering it, he had lost already, and Hibari did not like to lose.
But it was too late.
Somewhere within him had secretly grown a seed of anxiety and anger as the weeks lengthened and he avoided the illusionist as much as he could, not wanting to stir up the old memories and be reminded of that time again. But sometimes there was no choice but to have to be around that hateful person. He turned his head, pretended to ignore him, that the Mist Guardian had somehow escaped his notice just accidentally. But the truth was, he did not want to look at him. He could not meet Mukuro's eyes.
He didn't want to know what he would see there.
Eventually Mukuro caught on as the weeks of silence lengthened and accepted the fact that perhaps he had done something irreparable with his hastiness. He began to avoid Hibari too, or at least it seemed that way from his extended absences. Hibari wondered why the illusionist's absence caused such a ache in his chest and why he was carefully curious whenever a meeting came up that Mukuro might attend, although he never showed up. Finally he snapped. He didn't want to play this stupid meaningless game anymore.
He'd had enough of this.
"Go. I want that mission completed by sundown." Tsuna had ordered, shuffling the papers on his desk. "Those men need to be detained by any means necessary."
Gokudera was there with them, but it didn't shake the fact that Mukuro was as well for the first time in months, and very close. They say that absence makes the heart grown fonder. Perhaps the months of not seeing the illusionist had made him unaccustomed to the effect the Mist Guardian had on him. Each time he accidentally brushed Mukuro's shoulder... he would feel a little odd inside.
Why was that?
It took Mukuro's almost being struck down for Hibari to understand. Striking down an assailant, the man fired off a wild shot before dropping like a stone. Flicking the blood off his tonfa's coldly, Hibari turned in time to see an earlier attacker back to consciousness and aiming his pistol at the oblivious Mukuro. Diving at the illusionist in time to knock him sideways, they avoided the bullet which sailed over their heads, and Hibari had the attacker's head fractured by the next second. In the space of that second Hibari had realised the very immediate danger of losing Mukuro, Hibari had realised what he did not want to admit, not even to himself.
Even so, he wasn't ready to admit it aloud just yet.
"Th-thank you, Kyoya." Mukuro's voice was quiet, different from his usual playful tones. "That was careless of me."
"Pay more attention." Hibari replied brusquely, which was the equivalent of a 'Don't mention it' in his books.
Mukuro nodded and turned to leave, but Hibari's hand had halted him before Hibari had even realised he had moved. Dropping the grip he had on Mukuro's arm, Hibari stepped up beside the pineapple-haired man and looked him in the eyes with a glare for the first time in a long stretch.
"Let's go." He said almost reluctantly.
Mukuro's smile at those words, was one he remembered well.
Everything was the way it should be.
_______________________________________________________________________________
I found it. It WAS on my laptop at home. >_>
This is pretty much unedited and purely emotive writing. I hope it's believable.
Don't ask about the title. That's what the .rtf file was named.
(No, I don't use Word anymore. I can't on this laptop. =_= And OpenOffice annoys me.)
ETA: Okay, so I edited it some. Hopefully everyone else who reads this will not be so WTF anymore. XDDD;