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Nov. 11th, 2009 12:40 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kat8chaThe fall air was crisp and cool. Hibari felt the chill air bite through his light jacket as he walked down the street, the bright orange and red leaves crackling under his feet, the brown leaves crunching and turning to dust. The wind smelled like an early frost, and pizza.
Hibari hated America.
The language grated unpleasantly on Hibari's ears, a guttural mix of harsh consonants and half-swallowed vowels. Some Americans made up for their lack of enunciation by speaking very loudly, and some made up for their terrible annoying language by speaking very softly. Either way Hibari was left gritting his teeth and forced to ask for someone to repeat themselves. The American's felt the need to touch him, to ask of him personal questions, to compliment him or insult him on his stature and gracefulness.
Hibari had never been called 'birdlike' so many times in his life. Not even while fighting Rokudo Mukuro.
Not even if you combined all the times he had fought Rokudo Mukuro.
Hibari turned the corner into a small, relatively clean alleyway. He walked past the first three sets of fire stairs before climbing the fourth. The metal clanged loudly under Hibari's feet, a jangling dissonant sound. Hibari gritted his teeth and continued to climb up three flights.
America was loud. He hated it.
Hibari rapped on the door of his prey and waited. Beyond researching the boxes and dealing with some troublesome annoying pests Hibari's purpose for his trip to America was this man, the one currently in this apartment, who should have expected Hibari.
Irie Shouichi nervously opened the door. "Hibari-kun, you're ea-"
HIbari's lips curled back in what may have been a snarl, and Irie stuttered to a halt. "I'll make tea." Irie backed cautiously into his apartment and Hibari followed him in, every step forward he made was mirrored by Irie Shouichi's steps backward. Hibari kicked Irie's flimsy wooden door closed, and Irie turned towards his kitchen counters, his hands shook as he began to make tea. Hibari leaned back against Irie's door and watched. Irie's sharp shoulder blades drew together, mirrored no doubt in Irie's furrowed eye brows.
Irie was thinner than when Hibari had last seen him, barely half a year ago. He resembled the nervous scientist who had slumped to the floor in Melone Base more than the eager imaginative inventor who had left for America scant years before.
Irie glanced over his shoulder and met Hibari's eyes. Hibari nodded slightly and moved from the cramped kitchen to the cramped shared dining room and living room. Irie's notebooks and sketches were scattered over his low coffee table, and his couch. The television was on, but set on mute, on the screen colorfully garbed gargantuans ran at each other and butted heads. More papers and bites of machinery cluttered together on Irie's desk, and his laptop sat open, playing a screensaver of flying toasters.
Hibari glanced from the toasters to the television before taking a seat at Irie's small, dinged dining room table. The chair creaked when Hibari sat down.
Irie set the tea set down and poured Hibari a cup. Hibari accepted and took a deep breath of the steam before taking a sip. "Acceptable." Hibari said, setting the earthenware cup down. Reborn might be a connoisseur of coffees, but Hibari was an authority on teas.
Irie poured himself a cup and sat down with a sigh and a creak. The two of them sat in silence for a second before Irie spoke.
"I still have not met him."
Hibari's sigh disturbed the gentle rise of steam from his tea cup. He directed a piercing gaze at Irie. "Have your memories returned?"
Irie nodded quickly. "Yes, they did a few months ago." No doubt when the weight loss began. "But the worlds I saw, when you ki- stopped Byakuran… before, it meant that those worlds cannot exist, right?"
It has been a few years, and Hibari never cared for theoretical sciences. He can dimly remember Irie Shouichi's explanation of the parallel worlds, his metaphor that one should view the multiple universes as a tree, different roots, one trunk, and multiple branches. Simply because two universes did not share a past did not mean they could not lead to the same future, so long as they had one connection. Uni had chimed in that in some universe it was possible for Byakuran to have survived, she could not be completely sure he was dead in all of them, thus it was possible Byakuran could exist in any universe.
Could the futures the young Irie Shouichi had seen before his future self wiped them from his memory exist? It was possible. In fact, they did exist, but they were universes cut off from the universes that Irie Shouichi existed in now.
Simply because they had needed a Byakuran to form, and the world that Hibari and Irie inhabited did not.
"No." Hibari answered Irie's question, ignored the relieved light in Irie's eyes. It was best to keep one's bait submissive, plump, and unknowing. Especially when on the hunt for dangerous prey. "Those worlds cannot exist."
Hibari hated America.
The language grated unpleasantly on Hibari's ears, a guttural mix of harsh consonants and half-swallowed vowels. Some Americans made up for their lack of enunciation by speaking very loudly, and some made up for their terrible annoying language by speaking very softly. Either way Hibari was left gritting his teeth and forced to ask for someone to repeat themselves. The American's felt the need to touch him, to ask of him personal questions, to compliment him or insult him on his stature and gracefulness.
Hibari had never been called 'birdlike' so many times in his life. Not even while fighting Rokudo Mukuro.
Not even if you combined all the times he had fought Rokudo Mukuro.
Hibari turned the corner into a small, relatively clean alleyway. He walked past the first three sets of fire stairs before climbing the fourth. The metal clanged loudly under Hibari's feet, a jangling dissonant sound. Hibari gritted his teeth and continued to climb up three flights.
America was loud. He hated it.
Hibari rapped on the door of his prey and waited. Beyond researching the boxes and dealing with some troublesome annoying pests Hibari's purpose for his trip to America was this man, the one currently in this apartment, who should have expected Hibari.
Irie Shouichi nervously opened the door. "Hibari-kun, you're ea-"
HIbari's lips curled back in what may have been a snarl, and Irie stuttered to a halt. "I'll make tea." Irie backed cautiously into his apartment and Hibari followed him in, every step forward he made was mirrored by Irie Shouichi's steps backward. Hibari kicked Irie's flimsy wooden door closed, and Irie turned towards his kitchen counters, his hands shook as he began to make tea. Hibari leaned back against Irie's door and watched. Irie's sharp shoulder blades drew together, mirrored no doubt in Irie's furrowed eye brows.
Irie was thinner than when Hibari had last seen him, barely half a year ago. He resembled the nervous scientist who had slumped to the floor in Melone Base more than the eager imaginative inventor who had left for America scant years before.
Irie glanced over his shoulder and met Hibari's eyes. Hibari nodded slightly and moved from the cramped kitchen to the cramped shared dining room and living room. Irie's notebooks and sketches were scattered over his low coffee table, and his couch. The television was on, but set on mute, on the screen colorfully garbed gargantuans ran at each other and butted heads. More papers and bites of machinery cluttered together on Irie's desk, and his laptop sat open, playing a screensaver of flying toasters.
Hibari glanced from the toasters to the television before taking a seat at Irie's small, dinged dining room table. The chair creaked when Hibari sat down.
Irie set the tea set down and poured Hibari a cup. Hibari accepted and took a deep breath of the steam before taking a sip. "Acceptable." Hibari said, setting the earthenware cup down. Reborn might be a connoisseur of coffees, but Hibari was an authority on teas.
Irie poured himself a cup and sat down with a sigh and a creak. The two of them sat in silence for a second before Irie spoke.
"I still have not met him."
Hibari's sigh disturbed the gentle rise of steam from his tea cup. He directed a piercing gaze at Irie. "Have your memories returned?"
Irie nodded quickly. "Yes, they did a few months ago." No doubt when the weight loss began. "But the worlds I saw, when you ki- stopped Byakuran… before, it meant that those worlds cannot exist, right?"
It has been a few years, and Hibari never cared for theoretical sciences. He can dimly remember Irie Shouichi's explanation of the parallel worlds, his metaphor that one should view the multiple universes as a tree, different roots, one trunk, and multiple branches. Simply because two universes did not share a past did not mean they could not lead to the same future, so long as they had one connection. Uni had chimed in that in some universe it was possible for Byakuran to have survived, she could not be completely sure he was dead in all of them, thus it was possible Byakuran could exist in any universe.
Could the futures the young Irie Shouichi had seen before his future self wiped them from his memory exist? It was possible. In fact, they did exist, but they were universes cut off from the universes that Irie Shouichi existed in now.
Simply because they had needed a Byakuran to form, and the world that Hibari and Irie inhabited did not.
"No." Hibari answered Irie's question, ignored the relieved light in Irie's eyes. It was best to keep one's bait submissive, plump, and unknowing. Especially when on the hunt for dangerous prey. "Those worlds cannot exist."
