Disclaimer: Not mine.



Eyes cracked with red lines throbbed in unrestrained fury. A neurotic twitch started up again on his left eyebrow as his perfectly even teeth grinded down.

The phone cheerfully screeched into the dark room of Hibari Kyoya at three forty-five AM. "Kyou-chan, answer the phooone! I know you're there~"

Why? Hibari asked himself. Just why?

His tonfa slaughtered the study lamp, shards of glass clinking.

His other hand picked up the cellphone.

"What is it this time?" he hissed.

"Aww, Kyo-chan, don't be like that. It's just, I couldn't sleep and I was sitting around in my pajamas thinking I wonder what Kyo-chan's doing and then I thought I would be disturbing his sleeping cycle if I called now so I went down to the kitchens to get a glass of milk but then I spilled the milk all over myself then I had to go the bathroom to change—"

Hibari slammed the phone down.

He went back to his bed and lifted the blankets and then that cellphone rang again.

Hibari stared at it, willing the caller to DIE in miserable agony with his pathetic crowd of handlers and subordinates. Unfortunately, life was cruel.

He picked it up again.

"Kyoo-chan, why'd you hang up? Is your phone service that bad? Should I buy you a new cellphone or something? I mean—"

"Idiot blond, this is the last time you will call me. I have morning patrol at Namimori."

There was a sound of a hiccup and some faint snuffling. "It's just, Kyo-chan, why are you so mean to me all the time? I mean I took the time to train you to fight that pineapple guy and this is how you repay your teacher? Why is that—"

"You are not my concern. You are not Namimori. You are not even Japanese. Therefore, not my concern. Furthermore, your dependence on your herbivore crowd disgusts me."

"Just because of that? You're such a, such a…JERK—" Full-fledged sobbing echoed from Hibari's cellphone.

Hibari pinched his nose in frustration. This was too much.

The sobbing stopped abruptly.

"H-hey…if I tattoo Namimori on my dick, will you worship that too?"

"No, because that dick would be a pretender and in fact, a plastic fake. It would be disgusting."

The crying resumed.

Hibari smiled sadistically. "This is the last time you will call. Goodbye."

He threw the cellphone at his door, a loud satisfying thud. He settled back into his bed, tugging the blankets around him since it was cold. His eyes shut down for a few minutes then—

Harsh ringing. Again.

Why? Hibari asked himself again. Why not just turn it off? Why not just put it on mute? That stupid chatty Italian.

Tomorrow, someone was going to be buried in the schoolyard.

He picked up the phone again.


"You're drunk again. I do not speak to drunkards, much less tolerate harassment from drunkards who should know better. In fact, tomorrow, I will issue a restraining order against you."


"Also, I do not remember giving you permission to call me by my first name."


Hibari sighed as that man remained depressingly silent. "What is it this time?"

"…we took down a rival mafia gang today."

"And? Shouldn't you be proud?"

"…Yeah, I should be. I mean, they were running several drug rings, for god's sake…"

Hibari snorted. Drugs were for weak herbivores. Dependence on them was unforgivable.

The idiot Italian continued, "…but god, they had kids running around their base. They had families to support. They were in the middle of the ghetto and people there depended on them as the economic structure of that district…And we obliterated them…"

Hibari sneered, "And what? What would have happened if you let them run their course? Drug wars are more vicious than you think. The police are no longer as forgiving as before and they have started to join with the Interpol to bring down the major yakuza groups. Drugs leave a trace for them to sniff out. Prison won't be kind to them. And drugs may support those people, but do you think there is any honor in that? A life built on someone's grave? Ridiculous."


"If that's all, I will—"

"Wow, Kyoya, sometimes you can be pretty smart."

"No, it's just that you're too soft on people. People are not nice. Some can change like that stupid herbivore of yours, Sawada. But most people will stay as cowards and as greedy pigs, as animals. Most people cannot go beyond that, stuck in their own little lives. Pathetic."

"I think if given a chance, people can prove themselves, Kyouya. I mean, I was one of those cowards before."

Hibari just sniffed. "Are you finished? May we say goodbye NOW?"

"Aww, wait, I wanted to tell you more about my day because you see, I was eating with Romario at this really nice café this morning then we had these Amazing Crepes! They had this web of spun sugar over them courtesy of the patisserie and he even gave me a pat on the head and then they told us about this really amazing dessert they had that they served in teacups, teacups, Kyouya, can you believe it? It had little dollops of ice cream and meringue drops on top and then I wondered if Kyouya liked sweets too so maybe if he visited Italy I could show him where this store was and we could eat together while pigeons flocked around us and I could feed them breadcrumbs but they'd get scared of Kyouya's angry face—

"Shut up. Goodnight and goodbye. I'm warning you, blond. This is my last goodbye. Call me again and that stupid brunet herbivore of yours will have bloody teeth flying out of his mouth."

"Eep. Okay, goodnight! I can't wait until you're legal and at the age of consent~"

Hibari finally shut off the cellphone.

Now he could get some well-deserved sleep for putting up with ridiculous blonds who called at ridiculous times of the night to bother him with ethical issues about being a mafia.

Stupid blond.



The cellphone rang. AGAIN.

"Hey, Kyouyaa!"

Hibari ignored the voicemail.

"Kyouya, I just have one last question. Do you like Hibird more than me?"

Hibari stood up and answered.


A devastated howl on the phoneline.

"After all, he is Namimori."