notes: Okay, I have no idea where this came from. Probably my intense love for both Hibari and Tenten as characters. Anyway, they're probably fifteen, sixteen in this fic... and that's all I know. Um, enjoy?

a homage to the things we love


He landed on top of her—literally—on a warm Monday afternoon, after being shot by Lambo's bazooka during a particularly intense training session.

The shift felt exactly like it had when he was sent through time, but this time, Kyoya found himself in a different universe altogether. Whatever the damned cow had shot him with, it must have been something from the package they received from the Bovino Famiglia earlier this morning.

When he came to, he was lying on top of someone (a girl, he was sure; something about her was undeniably soft). Opening his eyes, the first thing he noticed was the twin buns on top of her head, the unfaithful brown strands falling haphazardly to cover her forehead. The second thing he noticed was the surprise in her eyes, clouded with just the right amount of caution that he realized instantly she, like him, had been trained to be on her guard.

Kyoya jumped to his feet and pulled out his tonfas, taking a few steps backwards in case she decided to attack first.

Instead of charging, however, she simply stood there, watching him in silence. "You're not from this area, are you?" she asked. "What is your allegiance?"

"To Namimori."

"Never heard of that before," she frowned, crossing her arms over her chest.

He lowered his tonfas a little. Just a little. "It's not around here."

"I gathered," she nodded. "Do you need help getting back to where you're from?"

"No." If this one worked just like Lambo's bazooka, then he shouldn't have to.

The girl nodded, something in her brown eyes alighting when her gaze fell upon his tonfas. She stepped forward, slowly enough as not to startle him but sure enough that it took her only two seconds to get to him. "I have ones similar to those," she remarked, pulling out a scroll and biting her thumb. Kyoya wasn't sure what she did, but all of a sudden there was a puff of smoke and then she was holding two tonfas. "What is yours made of?"


"Nice," she whistled appreciatively. "Mine's wood, but it works really well. It's not the only thing I use, though."

He stared at the wooden weapons in her fingers and she raised them to him for better viewing. The shafts were clean if slightly discolored, a faint hint of cuts here and there, but what stole most of his attention were the handles. On their ends, almost unnoticeable but there all the same, were identical dancing dragons, carved very neatly and thoughtfully into red oak by callous but skilled fingers. His hands itched to touch them and in a moment of absentmindedness he did; fingertips tracing the outline of feathered bodies, gently welcomed by the cunning curves and graceful spines of these mythical creatures.

When he caught himself, the girl was looking at him, amusement dancing in her eyes as the corners of her lips twitched like a badly kept secret.

"It's quite something, isn't it?" she murmured proudly. "Did these myself. It took ages, but it's more than worth it."

For a long while, Kyoya didn't say anything, gaze locked at her face and the fondness in her eyes. Then there was a familiar prickling sensation inside of him, the spiral that quivered in the tips of his toes and then rose up his body like an unwanted warning on his running hourglass, and he only had a moment to ask:

"What is your name?"

Her eyes went wide at his question, but it didn't take her long to answer.

"Tenten," she answered, her voice dipping low and honeyed, caressing his consciousness like the finest of silk, "My name is Tenten."

The moment he returned, Lambo launched at him, a stream of apologetic words pouring out of his lips. "Lambo is so sorry, Hibari-san!" he wailed, nails digging into Kyoya's shirt in desperate guilt, "Lambo didn't mean to!"

Kicking him away, Kyoya rose to his feet and made his way into the house, his mind recalling the dragon-shaped carvings on the base of the girl's tonfas, the smooth dips and rises of weathered wood against searching fingertips, and the snugly brilliant smile that curved her lips when she told him her name.


She wasn't bad, for a herbivore.



notes: Because Hibari and Tenten's kids will be tonfa experts who can take over the world.