Drabble: The Many Colours of a Bruise (Dino/Hibari)
Title: The Many Colours of a Bruise
Fandom: Katekyo Hitman Reborn!
Characters/Pairing: Dino/Hibari
Prompt: Hibari keeps a diary (for vivacitie) AND spectrum (from 20paperplanes)
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 416
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The first group was old; bruises which had long since faded under probing fingertips, relics from tripping and falling down three sets of stairs, concussed head and split lips and broken bones. These were the wounds Dino inflicted to himself, accidentally or not, and the number had significantly decreased over the years as the Family’s dependence grew into a concept in his mind instead of a solid, physical presence.
The second group belonged to Hibari Kyouya. These came from spars, from mood swings and temper tantrums. Hibari read each and every one of them like entries in a diary. The bruises decorating Dino’s upper right arm testified to yesterday’s fight, patches of redness blooming into dark blue. The bite marks on his neck were from last week, but the one on his left palm, the one deep enough to draw blood which Hibari had contentedly licked clean, had been there since three months ago. As for the red scratches down his chest, last night was entirely to blame.
This scar, however, belonged to neither group.
Hibari frowned. The moonlight was bright enough for him to make sure that he did not recognise it. This was not his mark-and in any case, tonfas did not cut, only bruised. This had been a clean stab of a thin but sharp blade to the abdomen.
This, he decided with a scowl, was a part of the third group. He hated that group, almost as much as he hated Dino for allowing them to happen in the first place. There had been many: a gunshot wound from when he had been but a boy of seven, three others when the previous don had died, a few more between then and now. Some only grazed his skin, others ripped his flesh and punctured his bones. Knife wounds were less common, but the few which had left their marks were irremovable.
Glaring at the newest of the flock, Hibari bent down slightly and bit the skin around the scar, hard. Dino’s surprised yelp did nothing to ease his irritation, and neither did the grip on his shoulder, entirely too firm for a man who had just been jolted out of sleep.
“What the hell are you doing?”
Hibari did not deign the question with an answer. He turned away and buried himself in the sheets, fully intent to ignore everything for the moment.
Tomorrow he would find out more about that scar and the person responsible-and then he would act.
End
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Fandom: Katekyo Hitman Reborn!
Characters/Pairing: Dino/Hibari
Prompt: Hibari keeps a diary (for vivacitie) AND spectrum (from 20paperplanes)
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 416
---
The first group was old; bruises which had long since faded under probing fingertips, relics from tripping and falling down three sets of stairs, concussed head and split lips and broken bones. These were the wounds Dino inflicted to himself, accidentally or not, and the number had significantly decreased over the years as the Family’s dependence grew into a concept in his mind instead of a solid, physical presence.
The second group belonged to Hibari Kyouya. These came from spars, from mood swings and temper tantrums. Hibari read each and every one of them like entries in a diary. The bruises decorating Dino’s upper right arm testified to yesterday’s fight, patches of redness blooming into dark blue. The bite marks on his neck were from last week, but the one on his left palm, the one deep enough to draw blood which Hibari had contentedly licked clean, had been there since three months ago. As for the red scratches down his chest, last night was entirely to blame.
This scar, however, belonged to neither group.
Hibari frowned. The moonlight was bright enough for him to make sure that he did not recognise it. This was not his mark-and in any case, tonfas did not cut, only bruised. This had been a clean stab of a thin but sharp blade to the abdomen.
This, he decided with a scowl, was a part of the third group. He hated that group, almost as much as he hated Dino for allowing them to happen in the first place. There had been many: a gunshot wound from when he had been but a boy of seven, three others when the previous don had died, a few more between then and now. Some only grazed his skin, others ripped his flesh and punctured his bones. Knife wounds were less common, but the few which had left their marks were irremovable.
Glaring at the newest of the flock, Hibari bent down slightly and bit the skin around the scar, hard. Dino’s surprised yelp did nothing to ease his irritation, and neither did the grip on his shoulder, entirely too firm for a man who had just been jolted out of sleep.
“What the hell are you doing?”
Hibari did not deign the question with an answer. He turned away and buried himself in the sheets, fully intent to ignore everything for the moment.
Tomorrow he would find out more about that scar and the person responsible-and then he would act.
End
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