Drabbles for Dressing Room chat. Updated: 4/20
A collection of drabbly things I did for people in chat one day. It was fun, I think I might do it again some time. :3
“Kyouka, this is silly.”
“She's mine.”
“You can't be serious~”
“She's mine.”
Mukuro sighed, drumming his fingers along the table, arching a brow at the woman across from him, who was sitting up painfully straight in her chair and glowering as if at any moment she might stand and turn the argument physical. Between them, their first child - one of many, Mukuro had hoped - tilted her head back and forth as if watching the words fly between mother and father. “You're going to give her a complex with all of this, you know,” he scolded, arms folding over his chest. “She's a sign of our love. So clearly, we should raise her together.”
“There is no love,” the slender Japanese woman snapped out - and then, almost an afterthought, “and I'm not sharing anything with you. Least of all Koyuki.”
“..excuse me,” the lawyer at one end of the table sighed, standing abruptly. “Not to be rude, Mr. And Mrs. Rokudo-”
Kyouka glowered at the woman. Mukuro chuckled softly in some measure of victory.
“-but you realize you're just trying to get custody of a rabbit, right?!”
It was all he could do to escape the insanity inside - and just in time, too, he had to think as something slammed into the door behind him and shattered. Tsuna was never so glad for the reinforced glass the Vongola manor was outfitted with, staring in horror at the chaotic tangle of mafioso within. His own family fighting with the Shimon family he had expected after the chaotic introductions a week ago at Namichuu, but... At some point the Varia had showed up to officially protest, followed by Rokudo Mukuro taking over Chrome and causing Hibari to redirect his attention, which made Adelheid act as if she were jealous in some way... And then Ryohei and Aoba had started shouting, which had set off Gokudera about how it was interrupting his research of the UNA...
Tsuna sagged against the balcony railing with a soft sigh. “This is a disaster...”
“..it was only expected, right?” A soft voice from one side of him offered with a sigh. He jumped, whirling - half expecting to see someone who could only further ruin his evening. Instead, Enma peered up at him from behind scruffy bangs, strange eyes downcast and posture slumped. Tsuna was struck, as usual, by how damn depressing the other boy always looked as he settled back into place with a nervous laugh.
“..I-I guess. But I was hoping it would go better,” he mumbled, gaze following a mildly tipsy Dino as the blond attempted to stop Hibari from flipping one of the banquet tables onto Mukuro-Chrome. “..agh... This is why I didn't want to be a part of this!” He groaned, ruffling his hair in frustration. Beside him, Enma shrugged.
“It's inescapable...” He offered, not flinching as the table in question hit the door hard enough to shatter half of it, the noise and chaos spilling out onto the balcony with them. As Tsuna jerked up to shout at his guardians to behave, his hand brushed Enma and he glanced back - stopping for a moment to consider that maybe, just maybe, despite all of this it was worth it just to finally have someone to relate to.
The office was stuffy and cold like the rest of the prison, outfitted in sterile equipment, a plain desk, a pair of immaculately preserved file cabinets, and a collection of ominous looking things in jars of colored liquid against the window - casting an aurora of color on the stone floor. Across from him, a single member of the Vindice read over the paper he had been given - or Tsuna assumed he did, having no way to tell with its face bandaged the way it was, and beside him sat the hung over, irate form of his cloud guardian. The cold prison and Hibari's hot rage was an interesting contrast, but Tsuna had little time to dwell on it - all of his concentration absorbed in not wetting himself in fear every time the mafia policeman(woman?) made the slightest motion. Reborn had insisted he and Hibari come alone, in a show of innocuous intent. He still wondered how anything concerning Hibari Kyouya could be considered “innocuous”. The Vindice lifted its head.
“Show me your wedding band,” it commanded, voice still somehow echoing multiples even though it was apparently alone. Hibari grumbled and groused something about biting them all to death if they continued that herbivore method of speaking before thrusting his hand out, displaying the simple silver band now on his ring finger, engraved with delicate lotus vines set with pale emeralds and pink sapphires. Tsuna had wondered how they had afforded and gotten a custom ring design so quickly - but had just as quickly decided he didn't want to know any more about their methods than he needed to. It must have matched, or otherwise be somehow valid in a way the young boss didn't understand, because the Vindice nodded and stood.
“We will allow this,” it declared, and suddenly there were more of them behind the desk. “Come with us.”
“I'm sorry, Kyouya.” The words were always said with a smile, always insincere. They were the boy's earliest memories, along with bruised knuckles and swollen lips from too-rough training his mother never approved of. Even when he was looking up at the man who he was the spitting image of, he could never believe the soft smile that didn't reach the hard eyes. By the age of ten, he had completely given up on ever getting a real apology from anyone - all of them were fake, all of them were just measures to protect the person giving them. The first time another student apologized to him, he beat him until he stopped moving, until blood was all over his bruised knuckles.
“I'm sorry about Kyouya,” his father offered the principal, smiling that fake smile, “he has such a temper.” But there was a thread of pride to the words that the boy didn't miss. Ah, he thought, this was how to get something real. Pain of others made his father's smile a bit sharper, a bit more real. He did it again the next day, and the day after that, until no one dared utter a word to him, but he never saw that sharp smile again.
Kneeling on the floor of the reception room in front of an infant the spitting image of himself, he saw it again. “I'm sorry, Kyouya,” his father offered him with sad eyes, a sharp smile, reaching tiny hands up to be picked up. Kyouya obliged, still stiff and silent. “You've grown into a good boy,” the child that was supposed to be his father continued, patting his head. The steely eyes slid to a close, leaning into the small hand. That moment, he would reflect upon years later as he sat in the carnage left after a personal mission, oddly still hands clutching a fading red-pink pacifier, was worth every drop of blood.
It was just a box of pocky. Buying it would barely make a dent in his allowance, but...
“Buying it is stupid! We could spend that money on better things, like video games!” The tiny voice in his ear whined, matching tiny hands tugging on his earlobe. Kyouya didn't even like video games. He waited for Dino to aruge, and for the pair to fight, but nothing came but the soft sound of snoring. Peeking into his pocket found the tiny angel asleep, and he huffed softly.
“Useless herbivore,” he scolded the angel - and then reached out and stuffed the pocky into his jacket out of spite for his guardian sleeping on the job. He punched the cashier who tried to stop him on the way out in the stomach, tuning out Mukuro's delighted laughter as the tiny devil flew circles around his head.
“I knew you had it in you, kufufu~!”
"Darling..."
The pet name was caught on a dangerous see-saw - amusement versus annoyance, which usually meant that someone or something was soon going to be peering straight down the muzzle of Leon. Kyouya almost kept walking, but quickly decided his cargo was too precious to risk dropping in a scuffle. He turned, steely eyes sharp even through the slight haze of his bangs. "What is that?" The tall dominatrix continued, heels clicking on tiled floor - blood was impossible to clean out of carpet, as were other body fluids, after all - as she approached the slender man.
"A card board box," he replied stiffly, not bothering to glance down at it. Beretta sighed and tapped one immaculate nail against the boy's pale cheek.
"Yes, love," she offered, drawing out the word like it should have meant something, "but what's inside of it."
"Things for my room," he huffed, jerking away and turning away. "I'm replacing my futon - it smells like pineapple."
"May I se-~?"
"No. Stale coffee and gunpowder are no better," the submissive snapped, shifting the box slightly. Beretta chuckled, and tipped her head to one side. In the pause, the box mewed, and Beretta's smile grew practically acidic.
"You know my policy for rule breakers, Kyouya."
CRASH.
"--ear you to pieces, you fu-"
A gunshot hit the wall with a dull thunk.
"-ha! You're a bit late, love, and besides-"
Mei sighed, tipping her head to one side and pressing her lips together as she watched the door shake and listened to bodies and furniture and bullets hit the walls and each other. "Really, Kyouya," she mumbled under her breath, rubbing the bridge of her nose and closing her eyes. "Have you forgotten you're younger than I am?"
In hind sight, however, she supposed next time it would be a better idea to wait until Beretta and brother were in different rooms to announce she and the other woman were lovers.
"Herbivore, herbivore."
The voice was too high pitched to ignore, even if the owner wasn't pulling on one of her ears. One dark eye cracked open, glowering at the one who dare disrupt her nap. "Move! Herbivore, move!" He insisted firmly, tugging on ear again. She ignored him, kicking out with one foot before shifting back into a comfortable position. Her foe was having none of this, leaping onto her back with a battle cry and tugging at her ears again. The battle was on - until their perch sighed and reached one small, pale hand to hold
both Hibird and Koyuki in place.
"Behave," Kyouka ordered stiffly, glowering down at the white and yellow fluff balls perched on her chest.
"You can hardly blame them," the man beside her offered with a soft chuckle, gloved hands scooping up the pair before the indigo head flopped happily into the spot they had just inhabited. "It's the best spot in the house~"
It was a perfect chance. Fon was asleep in a nest of his tails, peaceful and still and oh-so-vulnerable. Kyouya wriggled, hips lifting as he slid onto his knees and crept forwards on all fours across the cave, ears laying back and eyes narrowing as he reached for the jade orb within his uncle's arms. So close, close enough that chubby fingers brushed it, and he felt a spark of victory - he had it, it was hi-
"Kyouya." Fon sighed at the kit now dangling from his hand by the tail, the tiny, clawed hands swiping at air angrily, hissing and spitting like an enraged cat. "You're thousands of years too young to even consider trying to take my orb."
"We have a maid for that, Bakura-kun." The younger Kaiba had offered him the same words in greeting every time he saw the pale boy cleaning. Ryou paused in what he was doing, silvery head lifting from where he was bent over the washer, fishing out wet clothing to put into the small machine sitting beside it to whip the air out.
"I feel bad making them clean up after me," he offered, lips curling into a smile. "It's still strange having them help at all."
"Most people would be glad to have someone do it for them. Or to be staying in the Kaiba Mansion so often," Mokuba continued, shaking his head in either wonderment or amusement. "Besides, they're used to doing Nii-sama's laundry."
"..Ah, but this isn't..." The teen trailed off, cheeks blushing as he shoved the rest of his clothes into the small machine.
"...huh. I didn't think anyone besides Nii-sama would think Kaiba Corp. boxers weren't tacky."
"This is your fault."
Mukuro sighed, resting his forehead in his hand and mumbling softly under his breath. "For the last time, Kyouya. I have nothing to do with the power failure. Why, pray tell, do your hospital's backup generators not operate the electronic locks?"
"They're needed for life support systems," the doctor grumbled. "If you had left our power alone, this wouldn't be a problem."
"Why would I purposely lock myself in a room with you when it's barely a degree above zero outside. I merely hope this black out hasn't spread to my apartments and my sister."
"How should I know your motives," Hibari spat, head tipping to glower up at the taller man. "You're an idiot herbivore."
"..of course." He was starting to get a headache. Still, he mused silently, perhaps it wasn't all bad, huddled next to the pale man in the darkness without being under threat of attack. He stiffened for a moment as he felt something heavy drop against his shoulder and glanced down only to have his nose brush inky black hair that smelled faintly of green tea.
"If you move, I'll bite you to death, Rokudo Mukuro." The lawyer chuckled faintly, mismatched eyes sliding to a close. Not all bad indeed.
There was something amazing about Japan and its people's taste in fashion. Surface modesty was a thin veil for rampant sexuality that made it somehow all the more appealing when bits of flesh became visible, or a undergarment flashed. It was all a carefully constructed ploy, an alluring, perfect tra-
"FUCKING OW!" Hayako hissed, rubbing her nose as she rolled back, gray-green eyes squeezing to a shut. "What the FUCK was that for?!"
"If you continue to stare at my thighs, I will bite you to death," the girl's companion, Hibari Kyouka, offered in a low growl.
"I wasn't staring! I was thinking about that damn culture you fucking love so much!" The pale Italian grumbled, rubbing her nose again lightly before pulling her hand away, searching the metal of her rings and her palm for any trace of blood. "Besides, I was looking at your goddamn skirt, not your stupid scrawny legs."
"Hardly an improvement, herbivore," the slender prefect replied coldly, though her hands smoothed down the black miniskirt she wore over equally black stockings - so tall that they left only a tiny sliver of too-white skin visible between the two. Directing the gaze, Gokudera had decided for herself. It was a ploy many Japanese girls made use of, training interested eyes, making them wonder what was underneath the rest of the cloth-
"SON OF A BITCH!" The silver haired girl yelped as a heavy silver tonfa barely missed her, skimming the long bangs for the twelfth time in half an hour. "It's your own fault for wearing that on our fucking date, you bitch!"
Tsuna was hiding from Hibari. This in itself wasn't a strange thing, as Hibari Kyouya was one of his most dangerous guardians, however... He shuddered as he heard Ryohei's shout in the distance - "EEEEEEEEEEEEEEIIII?! HIBARI! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" The first of four posts was down, then, he realized bleakly. His guardians had been set up to try and detain the cloud guardian - he was ill, after all, and needed to be in bed, but even sick he was proving difficult. It didn't help the guardians were all petrified-
"Maa, maa, Hibari! This is weird!" Yamamoto was down. Tsuna felt a soft whimper escape him, hands covering his ears. Maybe if he called Mukuro - Mukuro had always been able to detain Hibari, and probably would be able to even if he was like - like this. He fumbled for his cellphone, hurriedly dialing Mukuro and Chrome's shared number.
"C-Chrome-chan! I need you and Mukuro-san to come to ba-"
"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING, HIBARI?!" Gokudera-kun was down. There was only the flame-enforced door Lambo was manning now.
"Oh, god! P-PLEASE HURRY!" He yelped into the phone before hanging up just as Lambo began to cry - the voice fading as the fifteen year old Thunder guardian fled. Tsuna swallowed heavily, pressing back against the wall as the door creaked open, Hibari silhouetted against the hall light, tall and imposing.
"..Sawada Tsunayoshi," the Cloud guardian began as he stepped forward, dark eyes catching the light - narrowed and dangerous. "I-"
A gloved hand covered his mouth, slowly spreading into the attached arm and the slender body of Rokudo Mukuro, who sighed softly and jerked Hibari backwards. The guardian gave something that sounded distinctly like a slurred giggle, crumpled suit wrinkling further as he fell against the narrow chest.
"Kyouya, I told you to stay in bed, hm~?" The exasperated illusionist offered, mismatched eyes narrowed over a thin, stretched smile.
"You smell like cherry blossoms," was the dreamy response, one flushed cheek tilting back against a broad shoulder.
Hibari, Tsuna decided with a shudder, was even scarier when he was happy.
"King me~"
"..No." The word fell heavily - almost sulkily, as the pale woman folded her arms over her chest glowering down at the board.
"..now, now, Kyouka. You can't just refuse~ It's against the rules!" Mukuro offered with a chuckle, gloved fingers tapping against his bottom lip.
"This game is ridiculous," she huffed again, glare intensifying. "I refuse to play any longer."
"Such a sore loser, Kyouka~"
She growled softly, and then suddenly the board was flipped over onto the floor and she was stalking away. Mukuro laughed softly - at least it had gone better than chess had.
“Kyouka, this is silly.”
“She's mine.”
“You can't be serious~”
“She's mine.”
Mukuro sighed, drumming his fingers along the table, arching a brow at the woman across from him, who was sitting up painfully straight in her chair and glowering as if at any moment she might stand and turn the argument physical. Between them, their first child - one of many, Mukuro had hoped - tilted her head back and forth as if watching the words fly between mother and father. “You're going to give her a complex with all of this, you know,” he scolded, arms folding over his chest. “She's a sign of our love. So clearly, we should raise her together.”
“There is no love,” the slender Japanese woman snapped out - and then, almost an afterthought, “and I'm not sharing anything with you. Least of all Koyuki.”
“..excuse me,” the lawyer at one end of the table sighed, standing abruptly. “Not to be rude, Mr. And Mrs. Rokudo-”
Kyouka glowered at the woman. Mukuro chuckled softly in some measure of victory.
“-but you realize you're just trying to get custody of a rabbit, right?!”
It was all he could do to escape the insanity inside - and just in time, too, he had to think as something slammed into the door behind him and shattered. Tsuna was never so glad for the reinforced glass the Vongola manor was outfitted with, staring in horror at the chaotic tangle of mafioso within. His own family fighting with the Shimon family he had expected after the chaotic introductions a week ago at Namichuu, but... At some point the Varia had showed up to officially protest, followed by Rokudo Mukuro taking over Chrome and causing Hibari to redirect his attention, which made Adelheid act as if she were jealous in some way... And then Ryohei and Aoba had started shouting, which had set off Gokudera about how it was interrupting his research of the UNA...
Tsuna sagged against the balcony railing with a soft sigh. “This is a disaster...”
“..it was only expected, right?” A soft voice from one side of him offered with a sigh. He jumped, whirling - half expecting to see someone who could only further ruin his evening. Instead, Enma peered up at him from behind scruffy bangs, strange eyes downcast and posture slumped. Tsuna was struck, as usual, by how damn depressing the other boy always looked as he settled back into place with a nervous laugh.
“..I-I guess. But I was hoping it would go better,” he mumbled, gaze following a mildly tipsy Dino as the blond attempted to stop Hibari from flipping one of the banquet tables onto Mukuro-Chrome. “..agh... This is why I didn't want to be a part of this!” He groaned, ruffling his hair in frustration. Beside him, Enma shrugged.
“It's inescapable...” He offered, not flinching as the table in question hit the door hard enough to shatter half of it, the noise and chaos spilling out onto the balcony with them. As Tsuna jerked up to shout at his guardians to behave, his hand brushed Enma and he glanced back - stopping for a moment to consider that maybe, just maybe, despite all of this it was worth it just to finally have someone to relate to.
The office was stuffy and cold like the rest of the prison, outfitted in sterile equipment, a plain desk, a pair of immaculately preserved file cabinets, and a collection of ominous looking things in jars of colored liquid against the window - casting an aurora of color on the stone floor. Across from him, a single member of the Vindice read over the paper he had been given - or Tsuna assumed he did, having no way to tell with its face bandaged the way it was, and beside him sat the hung over, irate form of his cloud guardian. The cold prison and Hibari's hot rage was an interesting contrast, but Tsuna had little time to dwell on it - all of his concentration absorbed in not wetting himself in fear every time the mafia policeman(woman?) made the slightest motion. Reborn had insisted he and Hibari come alone, in a show of innocuous intent. He still wondered how anything concerning Hibari Kyouya could be considered “innocuous”. The Vindice lifted its head.
“Show me your wedding band,” it commanded, voice still somehow echoing multiples even though it was apparently alone. Hibari grumbled and groused something about biting them all to death if they continued that herbivore method of speaking before thrusting his hand out, displaying the simple silver band now on his ring finger, engraved with delicate lotus vines set with pale emeralds and pink sapphires. Tsuna had wondered how they had afforded and gotten a custom ring design so quickly - but had just as quickly decided he didn't want to know any more about their methods than he needed to. It must have matched, or otherwise be somehow valid in a way the young boss didn't understand, because the Vindice nodded and stood.
“We will allow this,” it declared, and suddenly there were more of them behind the desk. “Come with us.”
“I'm sorry, Kyouya.” The words were always said with a smile, always insincere. They were the boy's earliest memories, along with bruised knuckles and swollen lips from too-rough training his mother never approved of. Even when he was looking up at the man who he was the spitting image of, he could never believe the soft smile that didn't reach the hard eyes. By the age of ten, he had completely given up on ever getting a real apology from anyone - all of them were fake, all of them were just measures to protect the person giving them. The first time another student apologized to him, he beat him until he stopped moving, until blood was all over his bruised knuckles.
“I'm sorry about Kyouya,” his father offered the principal, smiling that fake smile, “he has such a temper.” But there was a thread of pride to the words that the boy didn't miss. Ah, he thought, this was how to get something real. Pain of others made his father's smile a bit sharper, a bit more real. He did it again the next day, and the day after that, until no one dared utter a word to him, but he never saw that sharp smile again.
Kneeling on the floor of the reception room in front of an infant the spitting image of himself, he saw it again. “I'm sorry, Kyouya,” his father offered him with sad eyes, a sharp smile, reaching tiny hands up to be picked up. Kyouya obliged, still stiff and silent. “You've grown into a good boy,” the child that was supposed to be his father continued, patting his head. The steely eyes slid to a close, leaning into the small hand. That moment, he would reflect upon years later as he sat in the carnage left after a personal mission, oddly still hands clutching a fading red-pink pacifier, was worth every drop of blood.
It was just a box of pocky. Buying it would barely make a dent in his allowance, but...
“Buying it is stupid! We could spend that money on better things, like video games!” The tiny voice in his ear whined, matching tiny hands tugging on his earlobe. Kyouya didn't even like video games. He waited for Dino to aruge, and for the pair to fight, but nothing came but the soft sound of snoring. Peeking into his pocket found the tiny angel asleep, and he huffed softly.
“Useless herbivore,” he scolded the angel - and then reached out and stuffed the pocky into his jacket out of spite for his guardian sleeping on the job. He punched the cashier who tried to stop him on the way out in the stomach, tuning out Mukuro's delighted laughter as the tiny devil flew circles around his head.
“I knew you had it in you, kufufu~!”
"Darling..."
The pet name was caught on a dangerous see-saw - amusement versus annoyance, which usually meant that someone or something was soon going to be peering straight down the muzzle of Leon. Kyouya almost kept walking, but quickly decided his cargo was too precious to risk dropping in a scuffle. He turned, steely eyes sharp even through the slight haze of his bangs. "What is that?" The tall dominatrix continued, heels clicking on tiled floor - blood was impossible to clean out of carpet, as were other body fluids, after all - as she approached the slender man.
"A card board box," he replied stiffly, not bothering to glance down at it. Beretta sighed and tapped one immaculate nail against the boy's pale cheek.
"Yes, love," she offered, drawing out the word like it should have meant something, "but what's inside of it."
"Things for my room," he huffed, jerking away and turning away. "I'm replacing my futon - it smells like pineapple."
"May I se-~?"
"No. Stale coffee and gunpowder are no better," the submissive snapped, shifting the box slightly. Beretta chuckled, and tipped her head to one side. In the pause, the box mewed, and Beretta's smile grew practically acidic.
"You know my policy for rule breakers, Kyouya."
CRASH.
"--ear you to pieces, you fu-"
A gunshot hit the wall with a dull thunk.
"-ha! You're a bit late, love, and besides-"
Mei sighed, tipping her head to one side and pressing her lips together as she watched the door shake and listened to bodies and furniture and bullets hit the walls and each other. "Really, Kyouya," she mumbled under her breath, rubbing the bridge of her nose and closing her eyes. "Have you forgotten you're younger than I am?"
In hind sight, however, she supposed next time it would be a better idea to wait until Beretta and brother were in different rooms to announce she and the other woman were lovers.
"Herbivore, herbivore."
The voice was too high pitched to ignore, even if the owner wasn't pulling on one of her ears. One dark eye cracked open, glowering at the one who dare disrupt her nap. "Move! Herbivore, move!" He insisted firmly, tugging on ear again. She ignored him, kicking out with one foot before shifting back into a comfortable position. Her foe was having none of this, leaping onto her back with a battle cry and tugging at her ears again. The battle was on - until their perch sighed and reached one small, pale hand to hold
both Hibird and Koyuki in place.
"Behave," Kyouka ordered stiffly, glowering down at the white and yellow fluff balls perched on her chest.
"You can hardly blame them," the man beside her offered with a soft chuckle, gloved hands scooping up the pair before the indigo head flopped happily into the spot they had just inhabited. "It's the best spot in the house~"
It was a perfect chance. Fon was asleep in a nest of his tails, peaceful and still and oh-so-vulnerable. Kyouya wriggled, hips lifting as he slid onto his knees and crept forwards on all fours across the cave, ears laying back and eyes narrowing as he reached for the jade orb within his uncle's arms. So close, close enough that chubby fingers brushed it, and he felt a spark of victory - he had it, it was hi-
"Kyouya." Fon sighed at the kit now dangling from his hand by the tail, the tiny, clawed hands swiping at air angrily, hissing and spitting like an enraged cat. "You're thousands of years too young to even consider trying to take my orb."
"We have a maid for that, Bakura-kun." The younger Kaiba had offered him the same words in greeting every time he saw the pale boy cleaning. Ryou paused in what he was doing, silvery head lifting from where he was bent over the washer, fishing out wet clothing to put into the small machine sitting beside it to whip the air out.
"I feel bad making them clean up after me," he offered, lips curling into a smile. "It's still strange having them help at all."
"Most people would be glad to have someone do it for them. Or to be staying in the Kaiba Mansion so often," Mokuba continued, shaking his head in either wonderment or amusement. "Besides, they're used to doing Nii-sama's laundry."
"..Ah, but this isn't..." The teen trailed off, cheeks blushing as he shoved the rest of his clothes into the small machine.
"...huh. I didn't think anyone besides Nii-sama would think Kaiba Corp. boxers weren't tacky."
"This is your fault."
Mukuro sighed, resting his forehead in his hand and mumbling softly under his breath. "For the last time, Kyouya. I have nothing to do with the power failure. Why, pray tell, do your hospital's backup generators not operate the electronic locks?"
"They're needed for life support systems," the doctor grumbled. "If you had left our power alone, this wouldn't be a problem."
"Why would I purposely lock myself in a room with you when it's barely a degree above zero outside. I merely hope this black out hasn't spread to my apartments and my sister."
"How should I know your motives," Hibari spat, head tipping to glower up at the taller man. "You're an idiot herbivore."
"..of course." He was starting to get a headache. Still, he mused silently, perhaps it wasn't all bad, huddled next to the pale man in the darkness without being under threat of attack. He stiffened for a moment as he felt something heavy drop against his shoulder and glanced down only to have his nose brush inky black hair that smelled faintly of green tea.
"If you move, I'll bite you to death, Rokudo Mukuro." The lawyer chuckled faintly, mismatched eyes sliding to a close. Not all bad indeed.
There was something amazing about Japan and its people's taste in fashion. Surface modesty was a thin veil for rampant sexuality that made it somehow all the more appealing when bits of flesh became visible, or a undergarment flashed. It was all a carefully constructed ploy, an alluring, perfect tra-
"FUCKING OW!" Hayako hissed, rubbing her nose as she rolled back, gray-green eyes squeezing to a shut. "What the FUCK was that for?!"
"If you continue to stare at my thighs, I will bite you to death," the girl's companion, Hibari Kyouka, offered in a low growl.
"I wasn't staring! I was thinking about that damn culture you fucking love so much!" The pale Italian grumbled, rubbing her nose again lightly before pulling her hand away, searching the metal of her rings and her palm for any trace of blood. "Besides, I was looking at your goddamn skirt, not your stupid scrawny legs."
"Hardly an improvement, herbivore," the slender prefect replied coldly, though her hands smoothed down the black miniskirt she wore over equally black stockings - so tall that they left only a tiny sliver of too-white skin visible between the two. Directing the gaze, Gokudera had decided for herself. It was a ploy many Japanese girls made use of, training interested eyes, making them wonder what was underneath the rest of the cloth-
"SON OF A BITCH!" The silver haired girl yelped as a heavy silver tonfa barely missed her, skimming the long bangs for the twelfth time in half an hour. "It's your own fault for wearing that on our fucking date, you bitch!"
Tsuna was hiding from Hibari. This in itself wasn't a strange thing, as Hibari Kyouya was one of his most dangerous guardians, however... He shuddered as he heard Ryohei's shout in the distance - "EEEEEEEEEEEEEEIIII?! HIBARI! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" The first of four posts was down, then, he realized bleakly. His guardians had been set up to try and detain the cloud guardian - he was ill, after all, and needed to be in bed, but even sick he was proving difficult. It didn't help the guardians were all petrified-
"Maa, maa, Hibari! This is weird!" Yamamoto was down. Tsuna felt a soft whimper escape him, hands covering his ears. Maybe if he called Mukuro - Mukuro had always been able to detain Hibari, and probably would be able to even if he was like - like this. He fumbled for his cellphone, hurriedly dialing Mukuro and Chrome's shared number.
"C-Chrome-chan! I need you and Mukuro-san to come to ba-"
"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING, HIBARI?!" Gokudera-kun was down. There was only the flame-enforced door Lambo was manning now.
"Oh, god! P-PLEASE HURRY!" He yelped into the phone before hanging up just as Lambo began to cry - the voice fading as the fifteen year old Thunder guardian fled. Tsuna swallowed heavily, pressing back against the wall as the door creaked open, Hibari silhouetted against the hall light, tall and imposing.
"..Sawada Tsunayoshi," the Cloud guardian began as he stepped forward, dark eyes catching the light - narrowed and dangerous. "I-"
A gloved hand covered his mouth, slowly spreading into the attached arm and the slender body of Rokudo Mukuro, who sighed softly and jerked Hibari backwards. The guardian gave something that sounded distinctly like a slurred giggle, crumpled suit wrinkling further as he fell against the narrow chest.
"Kyouya, I told you to stay in bed, hm~?" The exasperated illusionist offered, mismatched eyes narrowed over a thin, stretched smile.
"You smell like cherry blossoms," was the dreamy response, one flushed cheek tilting back against a broad shoulder.
Hibari, Tsuna decided with a shudder, was even scarier when he was happy.
"King me~"
"..No." The word fell heavily - almost sulkily, as the pale woman folded her arms over her chest glowering down at the board.
"..now, now, Kyouka. You can't just refuse~ It's against the rules!" Mukuro offered with a chuckle, gloved fingers tapping against his bottom lip.
"This game is ridiculous," she huffed again, glare intensifying. "I refuse to play any longer."
"Such a sore loser, Kyouka~"
She growled softly, and then suddenly the board was flipped over onto the floor and she was stalking away. Mukuro laughed softly - at least it had gone better than chess had.