Title: Dress-up

Rating: R. Very R. R to the EXTREME, except not. -ish.

Paring: None. None, I say!

Warning/Summary: Hibari. Tsuna. Mukuro (a warning by himself). School uniforms. Girl's school uniforms. Crack. And a plothole the size of your head.

Hibari strode down the hall, his jacket snapping out behind him as his feet beat a death march on the floor. The handicrafts club had reported hearing strange noises from a should-be empty classroom, and Kusakabe had brought the matter to Hibari when three prefects combined had failed to break down the door or determine what was in there.

Hibari already knew. Yamamoto Takeshi was with the baseball team. Sasagawa Ryohei was away on competition. Gokudera Hayato had previously been forcefully escorted off the premises by his sister. That left only one usual suspect, with his tendency to attract herbivores and predators alike in droves as if he was some freakish magnet.

He could hear the noises now, and the general sounds of desperate protest mingled with a soft familiar laugh that sent a dizzying rage straight to Hibari's head. He kicked down the door, in a movement- destruction of school property, someone is going to pay.

Rokudo Mukuro and Sawada Tsunayoshi looked sideways at him, the older boy bent over the mafia heir, who was restrained by long purple tentacles, tears in his large fearful eyes- dressed in a Kokuyo girl's school uniform.

The rest of Sawada's actual clothes were scattered haphazardly over the classroom, and Mukuro, pineapple-shaped hairbrush in hand, was engaged in placing tiny barrettes in Kokuyo colors in the smaller boy's mess of hair. A rainbow of hair ornaments lay spread over a nearby desk, next to something that might have been a Midori uniform, and something else that was most definitely not a uniform of any kind.

"…What the hell is this?" snarled Hibari, dragging his gaze away from the habitually tiny uniform skirt riding up smooth thighs.

"Dress-up," said Mukuro blandly, turning back to hold up a Hello Kitty to his arrangement and discard it with the patient and infuriating delicacy of a samurai arranging flowers. "I think," he said, with all apparent sincerity, "that Tsunayoshi looks really good in this, don't' you?"

Hibari turned on his heel and strode out in answer.

"Nooo!" cried Tsuna. "Hi-Hibari-san! HELP!"

"Tsunayoshi-kun," Mukuro chided him, "This is our quality time. I am your guardian- and we hardly ever see each other! You make me sad."

"We hardly ever see each other because you are in JAIL for trying to assassinate me," Tsuna pointed out, and then yelped as Mukuro adjusted the green skirt to merely half up his thigh instead of an inch from indecency.

"Neither rain nor shine nor serious violations of prisoner rights will ever dissuade me from my pursuit of you, Tsunayoshi-kun," Mukuro informed him, and held up a cream-colored loose sock and a black knee sock, eyes gleaming.

While he was debating the relative merits of each style of sock (Tsuna knew from hard and recently earned experience that Mukuro would make him try on both regardless of conclusion), Hibari banged back into the room, and flung a bundle in their general direction, sheer momentum and fury substituting for aim. It came apart in the air and more tentacles appeared to catch them seemingly on reflex. It was- a uniform. A Namimori uniform. A Namimori girl's uniform.

Clearly, Mukuro was contagious, but that didn't really matter because Tsuna wanted to die.

"This is Namimori," said Hibari, in much the manner one might say, do you feel lucky, punk? or then I believe we are at war, gentlemen. "He should be wearing only Namimori uniforms."

Mukuro stared at the uniform, a grin of unholy delight spreading across his face like the sun rising on armies. "I…don't know how the Namimori uniform goes on," he admitted.

Hibari kicked the door closed without looking. "I do."


"Garter belts," said Hibari with the rigid and uncompromising doom of individualistic students everywhere in Namimori, "are not regulation uniform."

"Well, maybe not," conceded Mukuro. "Shame about the color scheme, though- red stockings would be so nice."

Tsuna had taken to closing his eyes tightly and pretending that this was all a bad dream. His bad dream presented him with the image of Hibari-san and Mukuro-san evaluating his legs in red stockings.

"…you know," said Mukuro thoughtfully, "if you want to be blindfolded, Tsunayoshi-kun, you really only need to as-"

"NO!" yelled Tsuna, and his eyes flew open. "I- I just-" They promptly shut again, bombarded with a flash that was like a million bolts of PAIN to the boy who had been living in semi-blissful darkness for a- how long had he been here? Was his mother worrying? Did she think he had been kidnapped by sexual deviants- wait, he HAD. AUGH.

"Pictures, Tsunayoshi-kun!" said Mukuro, as if the blinding instrument of humiliation hadn't been immediately obvious.

"I want to go home," wailed Tsuna, and flinched away from long-fingered hands that slid an off-white knee sock up his leg. It- felt nice, sort of, the soft material and Hibari-san's graceful hands- no. No! Girl's clothes. Terribly humiliating. Hibari-san and Mukuro-san in the same room! DANGER.

He left the sock at Tsuna's knee, but the hands continued up, tracing lines with no particular destination up the thin legs that had earned Tsuna his lowest speed ranking in Fuuta's book. Hibari was smiling, somewhat absently, eyes narrowed, his focus all on Tsuna.

Mukuro cackled internally and snapped pictures with a glee terrible to behold.


Romario cleared his throat, and murmured, "Boss, you-"

"NO!" yelled Dino. "This- this isn't-"

"Pornography is not the answer, Boss," said Romario, looking supremely uncomfortable. "Especially not of teenage girls-"

"It's TSUNA," protested Dino loudly. "And- and KYOUYA! Not girls!"

"Oh god it's worse than we thought," said one of Dino's men, who were all Here For Him In His Time Of Need and Deviancy, prepared to Love and Support Him Unconditionally.

"They're FOURTEEN!"

"Much worse," said another, and Romario cleared his throat again to have a heart-to-heart with his Boss.


"Ushishishi… Marmon, what's this?"

"Touch and pay with your entire next month's salary," said the baby. "Merchandise is for customers only."

"We're not working, fucking baby, we have no salaries," said Squalo. "What the hell is it- HOLY SHIT ON A GODDAMN STICK THE RUNT IS STARRING IN BONDAGE SCHOOLGIRL PORN."

"Give me that," snarled Xanxus. "NOW."

Levi wandered over and picked up some of the detritus from the resulting scuffle that Bel and Squalo had piled into on principle.

"I like that one better," remarked Lus. "The green one makes him look like a tart. So difficult to pull off."


-omake - (You all knew this was coming.)

Hibari: …What's this?

Mukuro: Boxers simply do not fit under these skirts.

Tsuna: ;;

Hibari: slides hands up

Tsuna: OO


Hibari: … :D

Tsuna: D: