Disclaimer: I own neither Katekyo Hitman Reborn nor its characters.

AN: HOLY SHIT IT's been a while since I last updated this work. I get distracted real easy, y'see. So... thanks for the patience? and happy reading! Thank you so much for the lovely reviews and I hope you have an awesome whatever you do. Here's some Kyouya POV to tell you what's been going on the other side of the world.


Namimori Middle School was covered entirely in frost and ice. From the minuscule screws in its gate's hinges, all the way to the baseball field encased in frozen fences that looked brittle, against his better judgement. He didn't know what to make of it at first, but then replaced the intrigued confusion with something more important.

Kyouya was flying. Crisp air running through the sleek shape of his mottled wings, sight sharp with a clarity that felt twice as strong from when he last recalled. The prefect tilted his feathered body and thrived in the feeling of the smooth glide as he landed on top of his school's roof top.

The young skylark gave a resounding cry and scowled internally when it sounded pitiful even to his own ears. There were no herbivores to herd, nor any upcoming secondary consumers he could find in order to train. The place was empty and desolate and dark. this was not the Namimori he knew; it was anything but the one he was born to protect.

It wasn't long before Kyouya took off into the sky once more, a sharp drift running directly into the nostrils on his beak. He circled Namimori from above, aimlessly scouring for something he could not understand.

Nowadays, Hibari Kyouya dreamt of an endless winter.

On constant repeat, always taking shape in between the slight shifts in his mind. The prefect built his mind scape in the form of a traditional Japanese house, closely structured like his current home.

The floors of his main rooms were made of tatami mats, spacious and well kept. He'd be enjoying his sixth sip of green tea when cold mists would trickle up from the gaps in the tatami, dragging him into a world that never warmed.

Kyouya wanted answers. And whatever he wanted, the Hibari made sure to get. It didn't take long before he started reducing his frequent naps till they were infrequent. Within the several past months, there wasn't a single alley that the prefect hasn't gotten his eyes on.

Namimori tensed when its protector grew frustrated and carefully, wearily, she held her breath. Sakura petals were afraid to fall when Kyouya passed. Fear sunk heavily into the bricks of Namimori Hospital, the prefect became more irritable than usual whenever he caught sight of needles or scalpels or anything white and wearable.

Because whenever he'd go to sleep, his dreams made sure to familiarize what helplessness and fear felt like as Kyouya was strapped down a table as he screamed in a voice than didn't belong to him.

Needless to say, people worked fast under his ire and reliable Tetsu was not an incompetent herbivore. Very soon, the prefect caught wind of the Yakuza dons that propagated somewhat somberly in their dealings for the past few months. The bacteria rated growth was suddenly shoved into the freezer.

Activities moved at a snail's pace, like the higher ups spared more time doing something else than raking up profit and slithering about in the underworld as fast as their scaled bellies could carry them. The red-light districts were quiet despite business moving as usual. Strangely, time appeared to crawl as fast as tar compared to the brighter side of the town.

Once, Kyouya personally went to bite one of the higher ranking underlings to death for information. The rat sniveled as he keeled over with froth staining the edges of his mouth. The beady eyed pest said that the bosses were mourning. Kyouya couldn't comprehend the words, the snakes had feelings for something apart from money?

The Hibari returned to the manor that day with irritation itching beneath his skin. He gripped his beloved pair of weapons with enough strength the bend iron, the young teen was quickly, soundlessly, making his way to his quarters when his carnivore aunt approached him with a sharp smile filled with teeth.

"My cute little nephew," She started. Kyouya narrowed his eyes, reluctantly (wisely) ignoring the label; he wasn't strong enough to beat her yet and the carnivore wasn't in a good mood. "Hn." The male Hibari grunted, posture still but weapon held in preparation to strike if she did so first.

Saddled in a petite form drenched in the scent of blood enough to scare a Jiangshi to return to its grave, Kyouya's carnivore aunt held back a dry jab to the rare showcase of obedience. The boy ad tact, contrary to what a lot of people thought.

"We had a deal," she drawled. "Keep your teeth out of the matters pertaining the Yakuza, Kyouya. They are mine." Carnivore aunt snapped, composure maintained nonetheless.

(They might know something about— The Cloud wanted to growl.

-is missing, my _ is-

I need to get _ back. My anchor, the _.

All this while, Kyouya had been searching. He's prowled up and over every inch of Namimori he could squeeze himself in and he's even crawled up trees to gain higher ground with instincts scratching at his face like some feral cat. They've been trying to tell him something, but Kyouya has been missing the message all this while.

When Kyouya slept, he didn't normally dream. And even if he did, he never remembered what took place. But this, this constant flight and lift off from a roof whose tiles couldn't even be felt from beneath the layers of snow, it was supposed to be another type of sign. Another clue Kyouya kept missing uncharacteristically.

Kyouya was a Carnivore. Protector of Namimori and a Hibari. Everything was right there and there would be plain dishonor on everything he stood by if he couldn't figure this out.

One moment of silence was all he needed when a face painted with brave fear flashed through his mind. In the compound from where his body stood, his carnivore aunt had left as soon as the prefect started spacing out into the gardens.

Kyouya's Flames started propagating, the deep shade of lilac purple pulsing and pushing upwards as if it wanted to touch-

The Sky.

The Cloud looked up, his raven hair reflecting the warm cloudless evening. He suddenly felt light and airy, like nothing could tie him down. A rare case of nausea punched Kyouya in the gut when he took the harsh autumn shade of the evening light and pictured his Namimori burning alongside it.

Hibari Kyouya snarled. He had a Sky to find and anchor himself with, but he'd be damned if the omnivore tried to chain him down. The Cloud would bite anyone to death if that ever happened. First, he had calls to make and Underground worlds to discover.