Hokori no コウマン

His memories of a Hibari Kyoya was drawn in an undeniable POSITIVE light, one that was RELIABLE regardless of his unreasonable violence and unpredictability—– Perhaps it was why Shoichi could look at the present Hibari in the highest regard of respect, the ginger still feared him of course, the kind of hesitance that gripped his chest and held his breath. He was a familiar face that brought a resemblance of peace to the future Shoichi Irie when he needed it the most. Though regardless, the present him knows not to get accustomed to someone like HIM. Shoichi Didn’t need pain and a tonfa to his face is most certainly damaging. 

AVOIDANCE was the best choice of action when dealing with him, he was sure of it— And so he did, not once had he stumbled on the cloud guardian alone, he was always with someone, Tsunayoshi, Spanner and sometimes even Byakuran and that kept him SAFE. 

Ah—- but he was ALONE right now. 

A small anxious smile blooms across peach tinted lips and he looks uncertain of himself, was he to speak? or perhaps just continue walking and pretend there was no Hibari Kyoya in the middle of the road? The latter would have been rude wouldn’t it?

              “Good—- Good Afternoon Hibari-kun.”

And his head falls into a polite bow, disheveled ginger locks falling haphazardly along his forehead.  Maybe when he looks up he’d be gone.

食い殺す| | The entirety of the town was his territory, and as school hours had just recently passed, it allowed for his regular haunt to finally become quiet and still. Under normal circumstances, he would sleep, but an odd edge to the surrounding air caused the restless roaming of an agitated beast. A voice - and neither a presence nor tone that denoted any dangerous intent - the Committee Head shifted priorities momentarily, as memories of another time and place came flooding back into an obstinate mind’s eye. Begrudgingly, it was acknowledged that this boy was familiar enough not to pursue a swift execution, though he couldn’t, for the life of him, dredge up the energy necessary to recall exact circumstances, regardless of his elder persona’s interference.

                             “Shoichi... Irie.”

The name fell from his tongue like a distant waterfall, deep, breathy tenors calculating the worth of his own phrase as he acknowledged the bow by lowering his lids momentarily - as much respect as he could muster. The youth before him - was quiet, he did not exude strength or will, and at this very moment, looked very similar to a disheveled little creature lost amongst tall trees... he knew this wasn’t all there was to the spectacled young man, but he felt no need to test his teeth against him for the time being.

             “This area - I’m searching for some reprobate disturbing the peace.                          You may either want to leave the area, or risk involvement.           I won’t hesitate to bite you to death if you get in my way, Herbivore.”

No doubt a man this fierce in regards to the protection of their beloved school should be feared and revered, general consensus amongst the students leaning strongly in his favor. Respect was not an escaped concept for the guardian of the rain, rather that his choice of expression came in small, considerate doses between gazes met in passing and the homage paid in observation of his participation with the rest of their ‘crowd’. 

So close he could almost feel the chill of the weapon against his adam’s apple, he swallowed instinctively, smile still etched nearly permanently across his mouth. 

“Maa, maa, take it easy. I’m not as naive as I used to be. I’m pretty confident I’m going to get high marks, just you wait!!”

He did not shy away from the threat of harm as if he believed Hibari would go so far as to injure him more than frighten him into action. Well aware of the cloud’s prowess, he gave a submissive bow of his head, let flesh brush the chill at the end of Hibari’s tonfa, tongue pressed to cheek.

“Thanks for reminding me. Sometimes I forget that the sun sets later than it used to now. Na, were you watching me, though? Do you think my batting form’s a little off? I got slammed in that last game, it threw my arm a little. I’ve been wearing a wrist brace at home to try and straighten it out.”

食い殺す| | The transgression wasn’t entirely dire, and there was nothing quite as riling as an individual who made no consideration for his strength - there was but the satisfying sound of a nascent throat that realized its current predicament, while the young athlete himself didn’t seem consciously aware of his folly.

                        “Ensure it, Yamamoto Takeshi.”

Amusement crept into the dull navy of the elder’s gaze, frustration evident, a hint of havoc playing at the predator’s lips, revealing just a sliver of ivory fang. Even at this time, this reprobate dared to try and soothe the situation, to make him, what, forcefully quell his own aggravation? That was this boy’s way, but that did not mean he was tied down into just leaving his fellow Guardian’s nature be.

As soon as there was any hint of flesh against his weapon, the Committee Head lowered it to his side, all the terminology floating idly into one ear and out the other - for a mere moment, a glance was cast askance towards the linked fence behind them, then back up, to finally address the concern. He spoke, but it was distracted - listless waves of shallow thunder, as that tonfa ascended once again, this time to gently tilt the younger student’s chin upwards, while encouraging the jock to tilt his head enough for the beast to get a look at his shoulder.

“Yo, Kyoya.”

Damp with the sweat of his exertion, Yamamoto stood nearest the chain link fence that separated the baseball field from the stands, currently unoccupied aside from his lazily strewn duffel bag he neglected to leave in the locker room. His partner had since left him for home by at least a half an hour or so, giving the younger man a chance to jog around the bases a few dozen times and collect the balls into a plastic bucket before it became too dark to see them.

This wasn’t the first time he’d felt stern eyes watching him from afar, though it wasn’t often Hibari made the active decision to approach him. Ever the guardian of their school, violently observant, occasionally napping – and, of course, an extension of the Vongola family regardless of his claims otherwise. “Sorry, was I making too much noise? I didn’t mean to wake you up, you know. Forgive me?”

食い殺す| | The movement was swift, retribution far quicker; the Committee head’s gakuran settled peacefully around each slender shoulder as soon as his feet hit the dirt, arm kinked, elbow raised - glistening metal held almost tenderly just an inch away from the young student’s throat.

                        “Yamamoto Takeshi -  - - staying on the field this long after school hours is against regulations.        I have made far too many exceptions, because I will not allow my men to crowd together simply to pick up baseballs.      Finish up or I’ll bite you to death.”

He spoke, but did not lower his weapon, a narrowed gaze idling between irritation and a vague curiosity - the rest of the little animal’s pack wasn’t roaming about, either.

This boy was the charismatic star of his beloved school’s athletic regimen, an unsavory enigma who was always worth keeping track of - to harm a student of Namimori Chuu was punishable by his own teeth.. and that peaceful expression seemed bruised so easily. The lethargic Cloud-user was no fool, nor was he blind, the Herbivore King’s closer companion... was not weak, he had seen that smile become clouded, and it was no game of chance to trust in this one’s utter intent to win.

食い殺す| |           This was getting out of hand.  They needed the boy’s strength in terms of sporting accomplishments, so that Namimori could thrive and progress. If the reckless youth managed to get kicked out of the baseball team for poor math grades... it would be a waste - and while he didn’t enjoy watching the events, filled with crowding individuals all screaming for a team effort... he needed the Rain Guardian to stop being so ridiculous.              Perhaps beating some sense into him would help him remember his figures.

                         “Yamamoto Takeshi.                  Kamikorosu Yo.”

食い殺す| |  There were times when even those tasked to uphold the peace within the entire town weren’t enough to maintain discipline within Namimori - the Disciplinary Committee had apt connections with even the law enforcement,  and at this time, their leader had been told of an atrocity.             A delinquent who refused to pay his bills at eating establishments. A man who refused to wear a shirt - despite school restaurant regulations.

食い殺す| |                  Late - that damned reprobate was late again.

The classroom would be invaded momentarily, a pompadoured member of the Disciplinary Committee announcing that ‘Gokudera Hayato’ was being summoned to their leader’s office immediately, the startled teacher being handed a document stating that they already had gained permission from the principal to secure the ash-haired delinquent’s fate.

食い殺す| |               “ Miiiiiidori tanabiku...                 Namimorii nooooooo -          Dai naku shoou naku, nami ga ii ii~! “

The shrill sopranos reverberated from a the tiny, inhuman source with all the boisterous enthusiasm of an entire pride-laiden choir; it had previously been silent within the ridiculously ornately decorated office-space, only the light scratch of a pen daring to break the peaceful air.          Of course, most wouldn’t deem the area ‘peaceful’, considering its single inhabitant, who appeared to be ignoring, or indulging, in the vaguely off-key singing of about twelve little yellow birds, all flitting about with little regard toward the outside world.       A knock -                     And immediate silence, icy slivers akin to a clouded, frozen sea rising slowly, only to rest upon a member of Disciplinary Committee, who quickly and efficiently reported a disturbance within school grounds - likely having to do with Tsunayoshi Sawada.                      And.. what appeared to be a five year old in a cow suit.

                           “... I’ll bite them to death.”