Prompted by aimeeshii.

Levi/Kyouya—blooming; "flaws can be overlooked."

Beta'ed by BadAyka.


'I teach you the overman. Man is something that shall be overcome. What have you done to overcome him?' (1)

The answer came in form of clashing metal against metal, of ominously crackling sounds as the parabolas lit up with electricity, flashing bright from the mere voltage running through them, itching to be dispatched; there was no mercy on either side in this battle, only a confident smirk mocking the determined expression of the umbrella-wielder, and flares of purple clearing their way through splotches of green Lightning flame, defying anything and everything in their way.

Hibari was never interested in fighting Leviathan himself, to be frank; yet, if the man came seeking him, starting a fight to prove his boss he had graduated from being incompetent, he had absolutely no problem with complying to that request, and kindly beat the hell out of him.

However, the battle proved more challenging than he anticipated – much to his delight; and he found himself enjoying the merciless exchange of blows with no regard for one's own safety, the discussion of steel against steel, of Loyalty against Pride, of Lightning against Cloud.

He was strong, he had to admit that; it seems his craving for his boss' approval made him reach beyond his abilities, beyond himself; constantly, day by day, he would be repeatedly surpassing himself, his newly found power blooming with eagerness to reach higher, run faster, hit harder. It was a never-ending cycle of going past one's abilities, going past what you believed your body and mind were capable of – constantly surpassing yourself.

Wasn't that what he himself had been doing all along? Wasn't that, as brutal as it sounded, the very essence of life itself, driven by the will to power?

Only those too weak to acquire it do not desire power; only those incapable of surpassing themselves day by day, reaching higher again and again, do not seek strength. It is in human nature that a man seeks power, and attempts to make others submit to him; and those that have that inborn strength, those who are by nature strong, those who have that potential to constantly and repeatedly reach beyond their own abilities – those will surpass and subject the weak, their will to power leading them to reach past themselves – over themselves – to become the overman.

In a way, it was like the sakura; every year, they would bloom, and every year, people all over the country would gather just to observe the vibrant display of the faint shades of pink swaying gently in the early spring breeze; and every year, their expectations would be higher, as they would compare it to the year before, expecting to witness a more strikingly beautiful display of the nature's gift – expecting for the mere show of blooming cherry trees to surpass itself each and every year.

It was the concept of the world; the same will to power that was inborn in every human being, the driving mechanism of the universe.

Yes, it was that same will to power he could sense from this moustached male before him; and yet, it was not at the same time.

His will – his reason for striving faster, higher, better – his pride was different than Hibari's;

it was not the will to become strong for the sole purpose of it, for the sheer sake of not merely reaching your possibilities and honing your skills and strengthening yourself within the confines of the pre-defined limits of your body and soul but instead surpassing them; no, his will to power lied in the craving to be accepted, looked at, and praised by his boss.

In all his craving for power, he was still nothing more than a disgusting plant-eating animal; and while he surely proved a worthwhile match, he was still nothing more than another herbivore.

His will to power was nothing like Hibari's; he could not even hope to compare in a million years. Fighting for someone else than yourself could never allow you to reach the overman you strive to be.

'That every will must consider every other will its equal — would be a principle hostile to life, an agent of the dissolution and destruction of man, an attempt to assassinate the future of man, a sign of weariness, a secret path to nothingness.' (2)

Hibari had, in his opinion, proved that sufficiently when he broke the old man's sword-like umbrellas one by one, enjoying the sound of cracking metal under the ruthless steel of his tonfa embraced in flaring purple glow; he believed he had settled the matter indisputably as he tackled the enormous man to the ground with such ease, making him grovel in the mud of impending defeat that anyone bold or ignorant enough to attack Hibari Kyouya was bound to experience.

His will to power was stronger that this pitiful man who was now lying in a pool of blood slightly oozing past his temples, indicating a broken brow bone at the very least – while the status of many other bones along his body was not accounted for either.

'The stronger becomes master of the weaker, in so far as the latter cannot assert its degree of independence — here there is no mercy, no forbearance, even less a respect for "laws."' (3)

And yet, this fight –

Hibari's gaze travelled down his own arms, over the state of his clothes and the overall condition of his body, divulging himself briefly in a futile attempt to count the numerous bruises, cuts and burns that even minimal contact with high voltage caused him.

Yes, this fight was not only a worthwhile amusement, a pleasant recreation after dinner – it was a fight in which he, consciously or not, had once again surpassed himself and reached past his abilities.

He tilted his head ever so slightly to the right as he carefully observed the form on the ground twitch and attempt to move, still having the will to fight while his body was long ago trashed past any human limits – and yet, he still struggled to move, still attempted to rise up once again.

His way of thinking – had flaws. And yet, he had the potential.

Hibari Kyouya turned on his heels and walked away, pacing the streets of his hometown silently until his sore feet found their home by themselves.

His way of thinking, his pride, his will – had flaws; yet sometimes, flaws can be overlooked.

Fiddling with the keys to find the right one under the scarce light the waning moonlight provided, with his mind universes – or merely several blocks – away, the raven smirked.

They will certainly fight again.

'[E]very specific body strives to become master over all space and to extend its force – its will to power – and to thrust back all that resists its extension. But it continually encounters similar efforts on the part of other bodies and ends by coming to an arrangement ("union") with those of them that are sufficiently related to it: thus they then conspire together for power. And the process goes on—' (4)

(1) Friedrich Nietzsche, Thus spoke Zarathustra, p.3, Walter Kaufmann transl.

(2) Friedrich Nietzsche, On the Genealogy of Morality, Essay 2, Section 11.

(3) Friedrich Nietzsche, The Will to Power, Sec. 630 (Notebook W I 4. June - July 1885, KGW VII, 3.283, KSA 11.559).

(4) Friedrich Nietzsche, The Will to Power , Sec. 636, Walter Kaufmann transl.