Characters: implied Hibari/Mukuro
Rating: PG
Word Count: 200
Warnings: Hibari
Disclaimer: Standard disclaimers apply. No own, no profit, no sue.
Notes: This is going to become my little drabble collection. Updates whenever I've written something new.

That Hibari hated herbivores was hard fact; no evidence needed. Look down the path he had walked and see it littered with the bodies of his adversaries. Weak herbivores all – the kind that, in their weakness, flocked together to hide behind a collective vision of strength. Trapped inside a self-imposed cycle of dependence, they needed other people to survive and reasons to fight for. (If they were delusional enough to rely on petty ideals to lend them power, their blunt teeth could not harm him.)

That he too needed people – strong people he could strive to surpass – he would never admit to. (Without people able to put up a fight, life would be boring and ultimately, his edge would dull.)

Indeed, he would rather bite off his own tongue than acknowledge that not all of his fights had ended with him emerging victorious. (As long as he didn't admit it, he had suffered no defeat.) So far, only one person had brought him to his knees – a favor he strove to return, this time without advantages on either part. That in mind, he could put up with the mingling Vongola herbivores if it meant facing (walking over) that man again.

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