This story is NOT a drabble.
Usually, novels are usually split in three parts: The beginning, the middle, and the end – I've realised that as I continued writing this, this fanfic has a three-parts structure, too - The beginning starts off as an introduction to characters and everything is light-hearted and funny. The middle is when things start to get serious and a bomb suddenly appears, creating all sorts of problems. The end is all about the bomb, and how it has to be detonated.
Before I continue to confuse the hell out of you, this story is all about a struggle of the OC. Life is all about struggling even though you probably won't realise or have even come across a situation where you're 'struggling'. A struggle to keep someone happy, a struggle for acceptance in society, a struggle for attention, a struggle to decide what to do and what path to choose, a struggle between choices, a struggle to survive. Anyway, there's lots of struggling. And anguish.
I don't own Katekyo Hitman Reborn, and be aware of Hibari OOC-ness throughout. I've tried to keep him in character, but I've also realised that the Anime Hibari is actually quite different than Manga Hibari (plus, the animators can't draw him like Amano Akira), so this story is based on what I've read in the manga scanlations I've been using.
Original Summary: Hibari Kyouya thought love was for losers, that is, until a hitman hailing from Italy posing as his cousin just has to conveniently come to assassinate him.
Enjoy the story!
Confessions of a Teenage Hitman
The Hitman Chronicles
Hibari Kyouya must die.
Really, he must. She had orders to kill him, after all.
The unprofessional hitman had to successfully carry out the assassination of a guy named Hibari Kyouya who lived in Namimori, Japan – whoever he may be – and also not question her family's motives at the same time while she was carrying out this mission. Despite having never receiving proper training in her life yet being thrown into a world of underground criminal activity and malevolence, she was ecstatic for having being chosen out of all candidates for this mission. So therefore, she found herself travelling for at least three quarters of a day by car, coach, train and aeroplane all across from Genoa, Italy, to the other, more oriental side of the world.
And once she set foot in oriental Japan with her one small high-tech and beeping suitcase lagging behind her, she inhaled the unfamiliar smell of soft sakura blossoms in the distance (which actually hadn't bloomed yet) and sighed in bliss. It felt great to be here; the weather was awesome (well, it was much better than it was back in Italy) and there were an abundance of foreign, Japanese hot guys galore (hot-hot hotties, she called them). Like fishes in the sea, she was hoping to hook one up… and maybe another while she was at it, ehehe…
She could also do some sightseeing while she was here –maybe go to Disneyland in the capital city of Tokyo, or visit the famed Mt Fuji and bring home a Back-Scratcher of a souvenir. Instead, she took the first bus from the busy, bustling airport to the small and rural municipality of Namimori and eventually arrived at the outskirts of the small, suburban town just in time. Using the free bicycle vouchers she received from the Japanese Tourist Information Centre, she rented a bicycle with stabilisers from the Bike Shop (what? She had never ridden a bike before) and rode through the gate.
Hmm, okay, so where to?
Unfortunately, she had no map. The hitman located the Visitor Information centre first, and smiled politely at passer-bys (so far, no hot-hot hotties because they were still in school, boohoo) in the town centre who were staring at her as she chained the bike to a nearby fence, in progress pulling her still high-tech and beeping suitcase from the back-basket; she entered the establishment, instantly greeted with the sight of two red-faced middle-aged women huddled over a tiny electronic fan glued onto their desk that was going round and round in semi-circles.
She cleared her throat; those Japanese lessons she took beforehand were going to put to test now. "Eto…" She began her sentence… or was it 'Anou'? All she knew was, she wanted to fit in and not look suspicious. "Do you know where I can find Hibari Kyouya?" She asked as she walked up to them.
They both stared at the girl with widened eyes. "H-H-Hibari-san?" They squawked, getting up from their seats. They both looked at each other, then at her, and one spoke first. "Why do you ask?"
"I'm… uh…Cousin, yeah, yeah. His cousin. Hicousin!" She giggled awkwardly; waving her hands around for some strange reason before taking out a piece of crumpled letter, having remembered what cover-up she had brought with her.
She handed them the letter.
They gawked wide-eyed as they bought the excuse from the rather unprofessional hitman, and then nodded unsurely. "I see, well…" One of the women said, re-reading through the letter in poorly-written Japanese that illustrated in high detail this little girl's connection with Hibari Kyouya (apparently they used to go the beach together when they were three years old?).
"I'll have to call the Social Services, you may wait here for the moment."
"Eto, right. Okie. Thanks. If you don't mind me asking – What's he like?" Yes, she was just as curious to find what this Hibari Kyouya was like in person, as much as they were curious to know what this cousin of Hibari's was like. Perhaps having a violent trait in their young delinquents ran in the family?
"H-H-Hibari-san?" They both trembled again like jellies. "W-Why, he's the most n-nicest boy you could ever meet. Smart, brave and unselfish."
Hmm. She watched them closely enquiringly; they seemed to be sweating more than ever and one of them even looked deathly pale as the colour drained away from her face at the mere mention of his name.
"Please tell him we said that!" They babbled out, almost simultaneously.
The hitman continued watching them strangely. "… Eto… right…"
The Social worker arrived eventually; also looking stuffy-faced and blotchy eyed as the two women did. He dabbed at his forehead with his sweat-cloth, and greeted the undercover hitman - who had been waiting for over forty-five minutes – in a warm and friendly manner, surprisingly. By that time the two women had given her all those sweets they had placed on the counter for free and a carton of lemon tea from their fridge to quench her thirst and hunger after having being strapped down in Economy-class on a plane to Japan from Italy for such a long time.
Unfortunately, the Social Worker failed to see ANY resemblance to Hibari-san at all.
He stared at the girl in the white shirt, waistcoat, light denim skirt and cropped black tights. Her features were very foreign, with light, wavy ginger hair that reached past her shoulders; she had dull green eyes and an innocent yet rather blank, sluggish-dazed look on her face. Her suitcase was pretty small, too, though it looked high-tech in technology (with a password-protected lock feature?) and was beeping at least every five minutes or so.
On the other hand, the Social Worker was balding, rather overweight, and was in the form of a rather unfit mid-forties man, dressed in a smart suit, and apparently the only one who checked up on Hibari Kyouya from now and then in his life – since Hibari Kyouya's parents had passed away, and he was alone – and lived alone.
What really made this hitman ponder was that Hibari Kyouya was also apparently a High Schooler – but was allowed to live in a house by himself? Wasn't that illegal?
"Hibari Kyouya… how can I sum him up in three words?" Kenji thought for a moment, and then snapped his fingers as if he had inspiration struck. "I know! Strong. Cold. Mystifying. Terrifying. Oh wait, that's four."
The hitman blinked dumbly at him.
Kenji immediately turned to her. "Don't tell him I said that!"
"I won't." She replied, turning back to the front as they walked down the empty path. Hmm, it seems that this Hibari Kyouya is some kind of terrorising monster of this town. Maybe she was doing a favour to this town by ridding it of Hibari Kyouya's presence? Wow, maybe she'd be dubbed a hero, then?
"He's only fifteen years old." The Social Worker, who said that she could call him Kenji, told her as they walked onwards to Hibari's house. "You're fifteen too, right?"
"I'm fourteen." The hitman replied back. Her family never told her that she'd have to assassinate a guy who was only older than her one year - wait, why was she getting so worked up over this? It didn't matter what age the target was. Assassinations were to be carried out smoothly and swiftly, regardless of the differences between target and agent. This was, like, the first rule of the hitman.
"So Ottuso-san, you're his cousin?"
The hitman nodded. "Hicousin." She said, "I'm supposed to stay for several weeks and attend Japanese school. Good for psyche and part of assignment."
Kenji didn't seem to understand that last sentence. "I… see." He looked serious all of a sudden. "I have to ask you something, Ottuso-san."
He patted her shoulder once they made a right turn, into the neighbourhood. "You do know who you're dealing with, right? Cousin or not."
"Good, well, here we are. Hibari Residence. Looks like Hibari-san's home from school. Strange, he usually has Student Council Meetings on a Thursday." Kenji stopped in front of a rural-looking Japanese building which was completely surrounded by brick walls, so she couldn't really see what the house inside looked like. The only thing she could see of the house was the roof.
They stopped at the large, wooden, two-door gate. Kenji gestured to a small peephole beside the gate – which was actually a hole created by a missing brick in the wall, and told her to look through. She stepped up, and peeped. The house was relatively large, with a light-oak front porch and a large wooden, sliding door (maybe the entrance) and a few overgrown tuffs of weeds hanging over the Hibari Residence's walls. There were wooden windows, and a mantelpiece hanging outside the front door. The only thing that stood out was a small garden shed that was stuck to the side of the wall surrounding the residence – it almost looked similar to some brooding, ominous citadel that was home to a terrifying Frankenstein-creature.
Somehow, the strange ominous presence surrounding the house grew stronger once Kenji knocked on the gates and called for Hibari-san. It wasn't haunted, was it? The hitman had watched The Grudge… and it terrified her. She couldn't stand her attic or even her own bed after that.
"Hibari-san?" Kenji called out again. "It's Odagiri Kenji. I've brought someone who's here to see you."
There was a slight silence, and Kenji turned to the hitman and smiled – it was actually more like a nervous smile – and she dismissed it, thinking of something else – like the new face that had emerged from inside the citadel. He was holding one of the doors open to some extent.
She certainly did not see this coming.
The boy was taller than her quite a bit, not as tall as Kenji, who still stood stiffly at almost 6'0 even though having spare tyre round his belly. The boy in front of them had a mop of short black hair that seemed to shine an ethereal bluish colour in the daytime sunlight; his eyes were strikingly dark and unusually slanted, but in a rather eminent way. As he crossed his arms, with a school blazer hanging over his shoulders, the frown that was already on his face deepened immediately.
In other words, he looked pissed.
But the hitman's eyes lit up as she stared him down from head to toe.
Hot-hot hottie hottiest of them all!
"What do you want?" He merely said; in fact, she barely noticed his lips move. He spoke in this cool, calm and collected voice – you know, for a fifteen year old kid, Hibari's pretty mature.
No, not hot-hot hottie hottiest of them all. Well, maybe number 2, not 1.
Kenji began to sweat; she could tell, because he was starting to shine and glisten in the sun, too – not as strong as Hibari's strange, shiny hair, though. Shiny, mmm; the hitman liked shiny things. "H-Hibari-san. This is your… um… cousin. From Italy, Genoa. Her Japanese is not so good."
Eh? My Japanese isn't that good? But I thought… well, I hope I've been saying the right things since I've been here, then…
The hitman remembered her reasons for being here and standing in front of a rather (cute, but) scary, weasel, ferrety-looking boy: to get a hot Japanese boyfriend? No, that wasn't it. Ahem. He was met with a dubious aura that was wafting through the atmosphere, as she then stared back up at him with new, distrustful eyes. "Cousin?" He then said, his tone actually went a different notch – it was in between inquisitiveness yet with a deep lilt of annoyance – he was still eyeing the petite girl back.
"Yes, her name is – ah… uh… " Kenji took out a piece of paper, and his respectful spectacles, then began reading the words scribbled over the paper. "It's… well, her full name, including her middle name is… Ottuso Kiriyuu Salvatrice Lacole. Do you recognize it, Hibari-san? Anou, Ottuso-san, your name quite is also mouthful. How do you want us to address you?"
Indeed, that was her full name and although it sounded unnecessary, she was extremely proud of her grand, elaborate Italian heritage - "Kiriyuu. Call me Kiriyuu." She then blurted out, thinking that she should say something to ease up this already-turning-bad situation. Seriously, anyone with eyes could see that this was becoming an awkward first-meeting between a guy and his alleged cousin. She knew this was not a normal conversation. This Hibari was awfully weird, too. He wasn't helping this situation at all.
"Hibari-san, may we come in to discuss things further?" Kenji asked, scratching his elbow.
Hibari didn't say anything, except open the door for them just a little, and then turned back round, walking back inside his house, where the front porch door was open, thus fully exposing the rest of his house to the lucid summer heat – and to the hitman's delight, the interior of a boy's house. Kenji egged her to enter first, so she did, taking note of her rather authentic surroundings whilst watching Hibari's retreating back. Kenji shut the door behind them, and then began to lead the way. Well, all they had to do was walk forward ten steps, and they were inside.
He stopped inside where Hibari was, at the front lounge; just outside the hall where at least five pairs of shoes were littering the wooden floor. The hitman didn't know that guys had more than two pairs of shoes in their lifetime. Yes, she was pretty shallow. Her attention was diverted from the shoes. The next room was quite large, with barely anything in it, except from a flat-screen LCD TV, the table Hibari was sitting at with his homework and books, and a few cushions. There was a sofa at the end of the room, but other than that, nothing much. A few paintings hung from the wall, too, all in kanji which she couldn't exactly read – something about red pigs flying in the sky of water? Hmm, maybe not.
Kenji gestured to her to sit down opposite Hibari at the small table, and then he sat down beside her.
There was a slight silence; and the only noise going in the household was the faint, rushing sound of water from the garden somewhere – and Kenji's heavy breathing that was irritating the hitman. She hated it when people who breathed too loudly.
"Kiriyuu, let me do the speaking since your Japanese is not good - Ahem. Hibari-san, as I was saying. Kiriyuu has come all the way from Italy to Namimori. According to the letter Kiriyuu showed me, she's your mother's third sister's husband's brother-in-law's second wife's daughter. Well, she's related to you anyway, not exactly blood-related, but still related." Kenji stopped, intaking a huge breath of air. "Can she stay with you until then?"
Hibari's eyebrow twitched.
"S-She's your cousin!" Kenji then exclaimed nervously.
"… Why didn't I receive any prior notice of this?"
"E-Erm… I-I don't know… the Information Centre just told me that a girl – Kiriyuu – had ventured into the shop asking where to find Hibari-san, and then she said that she was Hibari-san's cousin, so… well, they called me and told me to come."
"I see. And where is this letter?"
Kenji hurriedly showed Hibari the letter, and the hitman began to sweat.
Will Hibari buy this at all?
A few moments later, Hibari refolded the letter back properly and then handed it back to Kenji. "…How long will she be staying for?"
The hitman inwardly breathed a sigh of relief. He bought it!
But Hibari didn't look too happy. Well, duh! Imagine if some weird person came into your home telling you that they would be staying here for some time… And you didn't even know anything about it, either!
"W-Well, she told me that she'd be staying for several weeks to attend Namimori and see how a Japanese school works."
"So, she's a transfer student." Hibari then replied; he looked tired already. "Fine."
Kenji's eyes lit up, and he smiled, quite frankly. "…You'll let her stay then, Hibari-san?"
"Yes," Hibari said, "but as long as she doesn't disobeyme."
Kenji and the hitman heard that loud and clear. Her eyes widened for a brief moment as she gawked at Hibari. "H-Huh?" They both squeaked.
Hibari's lips curved up into a smirk. "Got that?"
That was directed to the girl; Kenji glanced at her from the corner of his eyes, and then elbowed her quickly. She left her newly-acquired stupor of staring at the cowlick on top of Hibari's head and then just stared at him dumbly again, before finally nodding slowly in response. Then she turned to Kenji, tugging at his sleeve.
"Thirsty." She said.
"You're thirsty, Ottuso-san?" Kenji asked, looking at her dried lips.
The hitman nodded again.
"Hibari-san, can she - ?"
In response, the boy flashed a quick glare to Kenji, who squeaked again, and dabbed at his sweating forehead with the sweatcloth. "I-I'll get you a drink, Ottuso – "
She shook her head. "No, I can get it myself. You two talk."
"Oh? Then… K-Kitchen's down that way, Ottuso-san…"
"I'll get a drink for Hibari-san and Kenji-san too." The hitman said, before dwaddling off into the kitchen.
"U-Uh… sure?" Kenji called after her, glancing at Hibari, who just ignored them.
Once inside the kitchen, the hitman thought for a sharp moment; right, her chance. Her chance to assassinate Hibari Kyouya – She could tell there was something wrong with him – he's like a bad egg. Anyway, even if he is a fifteen year old kid, still attending school, with parents who had passed away ages ago, he was going to die.
I'll give him the chance to join them, then.
Oh, and if you're wondering how a hitman managed to get through airport security, let's just say hitmen have ways of disguising things. Plus, she had help from her Senior Hitmen in disguising all the things. For her sake, she was in disguise of an innocent-looking fourteen year old (which she was, to be honest) holding a teddy-bear with a gun concealed inside, hidden amidst the stuffing. The stuffing was so thick that the computers in the airport could not X-ray the teddy-bear properly. The high-tech and beeping suitcases deflected everything the X-Ray picked up, therefore did not display her secret stashes up on the screen at all.
The hitman set three glasses on the counter top; then filled them up with water from the tap and she fumbled around her pockets, bringing out a small sachet of white powder, before cackling gleefully to herself.
It was rat poison.
She grinned widely as she emptied the white powder into a cup, and mixed it thoroughly by swirling the glass around. The poison dissolved and integrated with the water well. Yup, he'll drink the water and then froth on the floor wondering why his untimely death had happened as the poison slowly kills him internally. He'll experience a severe abdominal pain first, and as he's laying there bleeding, the poison would then slowly paralyze him, thus inducing further excruciating last moments. It'll also look as if his bereavement was because of faulty pipes of his house with lead entering the water system. A good plan, the hitman had to admit.
Kyaaahahaha! Hibari Kyouya. Time to say your prayers!
If you're also wondering how someone could live like that, or be like that, or think like that, especially for a fourteen year old girl, well, there are some weird people out there. If there wasn't, there wouldn't be people with necrophilia or people obsessed with cannibalism and perhaps mud, would there? Although, the hitman wasn't thatbad. No, she was still sane, and she would probably feel bad for Hibari for at least five minutes. Then she'd move on and return to Italy and get her reward. She emerged from the kitchen and back into the lounge with the three glasses; the one with poison would be given to Hibari first.
"Hibari-san, your water." She said, hiding her growing anticipation, bending down to his level with his poisoned glass. This is it! Arrividerci, Hibari Kyouya. Even if you are a hot-hot hottie. I don't discriminate people by their looks. Nice meeting you. Not!
Suddenly, her hand accidentally brushed against his as she was settling the glass down - and everything went slow-motion. There was a flash of quick silver. The glass was then flying out of her hand. Kenji's jaw had dropped in response at the flying tumbler, and Hibari didn't even bother to look up.
The hitman's eyes widened as the cup sailed into the air. "Noooo-oooo-oooooh….!"
Landing back down on the ground, the cup smashed into tiny glass fragments glittering in the afternoon daylight, and the poisoned contents began sizzling a hole through the wooden floorboards. Then everything went back to the normal pace. The hitman stared with her mouth agape, stunned and astounded for a brief moment.
"Touch me again…" Hibari broke the uneasy silence as Kenji and the hitman continued staring at the smoking hole on the floor. He looked at the hitman without moving his head, his hand curling around the handle of a collapsible, steel tonfa that had seemingly come out from nowhere. "… And I'll bite you to death."
The hitman stopped staring, and closed her jaw, before averting her transfixed stare to Hibari. Damn it, she inwardly cursed with a growl. As Kenji began squawking about leaded, polluted water and 'thank goodness Hibari-san never drank it' and 'that was close', the hitman glowered angrily at Hibari, and he glared at her in response.
Really, he must.
I've got orders to kill him, after all.
Although, something told her that it wouldn't be so easy.
This story was born from an EXTREME PLOT BUNNY I had a long time ago. Seriously. So here are the general warnings for the overall story which you should take into account before you proceed: