I.

"Who are you?"

Rokudo Mukuro watches the man standing seemingly at ease in the middle of grime and blood-splattered room that makes up the once-pristine theater of Kokuyo Land.

At first glance, the man appears to be nothing more than one of the tens of thousands of Japanese clones populating the island nation and beyond.

Pale skin covering a tall and slim frame, a thin face with high cheek bones, dark hair styled short with part of his fringe just barely obscuring an eye…

Ah.

That's what makes the man standing before him so unique from the innumerable amount of mindless sheep blundering their way through life: his eyes.

They aren't the typical light-brown color of a majority of Japanese men, nor are they the dark-brown – bordering on black – coloring of the other ethnicities of the world. No, this man's eyes are a brilliant gray: the color of starlight on a moonless night, the color of smoke lazily curling up from a fire, the color of brightly polished steel about to-

Oh.

Now Mukuro remembers.

The illusionist shifts his weight slightly and leans casually against his trident, a mocking grown slowly blossoming on his features.

"… I see, I thought you looked familiar. Are you here to rescue the little Skylark in my possession?"

The man tilts his head, his bangs following the movement and now completely hiding one of his eyes from view while the other – such a startling, silver color – returns Mukuro's stare evenly.

The corner of the man's lips quirk upwards, "But of course. What kind of older brother would I be if I left my poor, defenseless baby brother in the hands of someone like you?"

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II.

He had heard the whispers of rumors circulating the Underground World for the past few months now.

Hushed chatter about the Chinese Triads.

Secretive mutterings about two new additions to the already powerful and feared assassin group.

Guarded inquires about his own standing within the Triads hierarchy.

It was for that last reason that he had decided to return to the main compound of the Triads and ascertain the truth for himself, not because he feared having his position taken from him – no – it was quite the opposite, in fact. If there truly was someone capable of taking over him as the 'best' assassin of the Triads, he would be more than happy to turn that title over to him or her, only if they were truly worthy of said title though.

"Fon, you've arrived."

The World's Best Martial Artist and current Storm Arcobaleno turned at the sound of his name and peered upwards at one of the many elders of the Chinese Triads. "Elder Zhao, it's a pleasure to meet you once more," Fon said with a short bow.

"Enough with the pleasantries, Fon, the other Elders and I have an assignment for you."

"Oh? What is it?"

"It is unfortunate but, one of our newest additions to the Triads has turned against us. The Elders want you to put an end to their actions. They are still penned in at the Second Compound… do not disappoint us, Fon."

"I shall endeavor not to, Elder Zhao," Fon intoned politely, bowing once more before blurring away in a flash of red.

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III.

The first thing that Fon notices – more like feels – upon reaching the outer wall of the second compound, is the sheer amount of Cloud Flames utterly saturating the air and surrounding forest. In fact, there is so much Cloud Flames in the air that each breath the martial artist takes seems to be imbued with more oxygen than normal – certainly not an easy feat to accomplish.

The second thing that Fon notices upon scaling the compound walls is the veritable sea of bodies littering the open-air courtyard of the compound. Even from this distance, the Arcobaleno can easily tell that all of the unconscious persons lying below him belong to the Triads and that each and every one of them was taken down by the very same style of martial arts taught to the new initiates of the organization.

'Although,' Fon thinks, eyes roaming over the ground below,'judging from the size and coloration of the bruises… the attacker can't be much taller than myself and doesn't nearly have as much physical strength as an adult which means that whoever managed to defeat these members must be no older than eleven or twelve years of age…'

"I wonder…," the martial artist muses, leaping off the outer wall of the compound and onto the nearest sloped rooftop decorating one of the few buildings in the area.

A scant few seconds later, sees the Storm Arcobaleno dropping into a room where the immensely powerful Cloud Flames seem to be emanating from.

"… Uncle Fon…?"

The soft, feminine whisper has Fon straightening from his crouch and turning to face a woman who could be described as a carbon-copy of himself – if he had been born a woman, that is.

The woman had long, dark-colored hair that was braided and swept over a shoulder – very much like his own – paired with pale skin and narrowed eyes a shade darker than the color of fog and framed with long, thick lashes which stares at him in a mixture of surprise and relief.

"I-It really is you, Uncle Fon…! How did you get here?"

"I walked," is Fon's honest reply.

The woman laughs lightly, the sound reverberating throughout the tiny room – which is really no bigger than a closet. "You're still as blunt as ever, Uncle Fon!"

Fon smiles briefly before sobering and saying, "Yanyu… let me see him."

Yanyu stiffens for a heartbeat, her entire countenance screaming defiance and protectiveness, before she nods tersely and moves to the side, gathering the length of her long robe into her arms as she does so and revealing the source of the Cloud Flames.

The child is young, and gently carrying a bundle of cloth that Fon realizes is actually another infant. The child is perhaps around seven or eight years old with the exact same coloring and features as his mother and the few others that made up their lineage and ancestry.

Black hair.

Pale skin.

Gray-colored eyes.

Even the wariness and cautious air about the child reminds Fon of a much younger and more innocent Yanyu.

Although… Fon studies the child closer for a moment. There seems to be a kind of… weight and knowledge hiding within that familiar colored gaze of the child… almost as if there was a significantly older person living within the child's skin.

It's like Fon is looking at a slightly older mirror-image of himself after the That Day…

The Arcobaleno smiles gently at the child and introduces himself. "Hello there, my name is Fon and I'm your uncle."

The child's eyes narrow a fraction and Fon can see the imaginary gears turning within the child's brain.

"… How old are you?" The child asks in perfect Chinese, after mulling over Fon's introduction for a minute.

"Far too old," Fon replies with a light chuckle.

The child tilts his head and his eyes and lips crinkle in a way that screams that the child understands exactly what the martial artist meant and isn't that a bit unnerving?: To see the shadows of a man far too old and jaded haunting the visage of a child far too young to be burdened with such a fate.

'Perhaps I am getting too old…' Fon thinks with a rueful shake of his head. 'To think that I'm projecting myself onto a mere child like this…'

"… It's nice to meet you, Uncle Fon. I'm Mitsuru." Mitsuru inclines his head towards Fon, and after a momentary pause continues with, "and this is my younger brother, Kyoya. He was born a few days ago."

At Mitsuru's words, Fon slants his eyes at Yanyu.

"… The Elders were going to take our Kyoya away for 'training'," the woman begins in a venomous voice. "I will not subject my youngest son to their so-called 'training'!"

"Yet you allowed Mitsuru to do so?"

Yanyu lifted her chin, eyes blazing. "I made sure to oversee and attend all the sessions he received while I was carrying Kyoya. The Elders tried to forbade me from doing so, but I still haven't lost my edge and skill despite my long absence from this place."

Fon chuckled. "I bet that was quite a wake-up call for them."

"Oh it was, I assure you…," Yanyu grinned, her smile vicious and ferocious.

"Which of the Elders were going to oversee young Kyoya's training?"

"Elder Xin."

For a split-second, a thunderous expression crosses the Arcobaleno's features before his expression smoothes out into a mask of calm and serenity. "I see…"

Elder Xin was notoriously infamous for breaking more recruits than nurturing them. That would explain why Yanyu had taken such drastic measures in order to protect her youngest child.

"… The men outside?" Fon asked, eyes darting towards the lone window.

"Sent after us as a result of Mitsuru storming this compound and taking back our Kyoya."

Fon observed Yanyu a bit closer and frowned, saying, "… You were in the hospital until yesterday." It was a statement, not a question.

"That's correct," Yanyu nodded, "I wasn't about to let my sons or myself be used as a potential hostage, so I broke myself out of the First Compound's hospital and made my way here."

"And Mitsuru's Flames?"

"Most likely awakened during his attack on this compound, by the time I got here a good majority of the members living here had been subdued already."

"And Kyoya?"

"Unharmed and uninjured," Mitsuru spoke up suddenly, the child's voice low and dangerous. "If they had put a single scratch on Kyoya, I would have done more than just render them unconscious…"

Fon and Yanyu shared a look at the threat underlying the young child's voice.

The Storm Arcobaleno smiled suddenly and held up a sleeve to cover his mouth. "… He certainly is a member of our family, is he not?"

"Of course he is, Uncle Fon," Yanyu said in an affronted tone. "Those with our bloodline tend to be quiet, aloof kids with a violent protective streak, I was like that and both of my parents were like that as well when they were that age. I'm sure you were like that too when you were Mitsuru's age too."

"… Perhaps a tad bit more violent," Fon admitted with a small shrug.

Yanyu cracked a smile at the martial artists' words before turning her head to face the direction of the compound's only entrance and subsequent exit. "What happens now, Uncle Fon?"

"Now?" Fon echoed, as he moved towards the only door of the room and slid it open with a quiet swish. "Now we leave this place and get you three out of China and back to Japan."

Yanyu gathered her two children in her arms and followed Fon as he made his way out of the room and down the hall. "The Elders won't let us leave so easily…"

Fon turned his head slightly so that Yanyu saw the shadowed profile of his face and she felt a shiver travel up her spine. It was easy to forget that Fon was the World's Best Martial Artist and that he was utterly dangerous when he wanted to be.

"… The Elders won't be able to go against me, Yanyu. If they even attempt to make a move, they'll have to face the dire consequences of touching what's mine."

"… Are you sure you aren't part Cloud, Uncle Fon?" Yanyu laughed breathlessly, nervously. "You sure share the same protective traits as one!"

"Perhaps I was a Cloud in another lifetime," Fon said with a thoughtful smile. "Who knows?"

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IV.

As his mother and uncle continue to converse with one another, Mitsuru steals a glance at the sleeping face of his baby brother and smiles.

'Keep on sleeping peacefully, Kyoya… we're finally going home.'

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VI.

Home is where the heart is supposed to be. It's where one is supposed to go to in order escape the heartaches the hardships of the world. It's supposed to be a haven and retreat for the weary and the tired.

It's supposed to be safe.

And that's exactly what the new Hibari home is like, he thinks as he stares at the reflection staring back at him from within the confines of his bedroom mirror.

Mitsuru Hibari is now nine-years old.

Two entire years have passed since their return to Japan and so much has happened in those short years.

His family had decided to finally break ties with the city that practically raised Mitsuru for a good majority of his young life and the family of four – five if one included an Uncle Fon, who had been hanging around them for a good while now – settled down in the tiny, mountainous village that was Shirakawa, it was the perfect sleepy town for people that wanted a fresh start in life.

Kyoya's second birthday had been celebrated not more than a week ago; Mitsuru's own birthday coming up again in a few months, and already the two year-old toddler was surprising everyone with his quick mastery of being able to walk and run.

"Soon he'll be learning martial arts alongside Uncle Fon," their mother had joked.

His parents eagerly held a second wedding and honeymoon to commemorate their joyous reunion – apparently his father had been held hostage in a well guarded compound as a way to control and blackmail his mother into going back to China and to the Triads. Indoctrinating himself and Kyoya to the Triads would just have been another way to chain their mother to the organization.

Mitsuru closed his eyes as the thoughts and images of his time in China began to flood his mind.

Despite all the harsh sneers and whispers and despite the even harsher training regimens… the nine-year old couldn't honestly say that he didn't enjoy the physical strain and growth he underwent there; especially considering that the sheer amount of passion and determination the other students exuded reminded him so much of his life before this one.

Mitsuru opens his eyes and is met with a face that has become his over the past nine years.

Even at such a young age, Mitsuru can already see himself growing up to be tall and slim, perhaps not as tall as his father, who stands at an impressive five foot eleven inches, but definitely taller than a good majority of Japan. He has dark hair that's cut short and is much softer and manageable that what he had before. His face – while round and chubby with baby fat now – will undoubtedly melt away as time and puberty do their thing and transform him into someone with a feminine face. He has such fair skin in this lifetime that it spurs a desire within him to spend more time in the sun; such pale skin doesn't seem healthy! Finally, Mitsuru locks eyes with his reflection. His eyes are what surprised him the most in this lifetime. Very few people had naturally gray eyes in his previous lifetime, so to come across five people with the genetics to have them… It took Mitsuru the longest time to get used to that color being a part of his face.

Bright golden hair, sun-kissed skin, a stout, but, muscular body honed from years of sports, and dark-brown eyes, it was all gone.

Black hair, pale skin, a lithe body, and light eyes, he was now the complete opposite of what he used to be.

Even his personality had changed.

In this lifetime, in this body as Mitsuru Hibari, he was quiet, not boisterous. Contemplative instead of impatient. Aloof and withdrawn instead of friendly and outgoing.

'I wonder if this has anything to do with my Flame…'

Watching intently as his reflection followed his every move; Mitsuru slowly brought a hand up and let the purple fire he knew to be Cloud Flames lick and dance across his fingertips. The brightly-colored flame didn't burn him as a typical fire would; instead, it was cold and cool to the touch. He focused his mind and will, and watched in fascination as the purple flames moved further down his arms.

There was nothing like this in his previous life, at least, nothing outside of manga and movies.

Sure in the Before, one could put on a flame retardant suit, pour gasoline on themselves or some other flammable liquid, light themselves on fire and play with fire that way, however, nothing could beat – and would ever beat – the feeling and sensations nor the incredible sight that was an actual Dying Will Flame.

He leans forward until his forehead meets that of his reflection.

Mitsuru is not stupid – he has the knowledge and memories of a man nearly thrice his age stuffed into his noggin. He knows exactly what world he's been reborn – pun not intended – into.

Realizing he had been born once more? Maybe all those Buddhists were right and reincarnation was a real phenomenon.

Discovering that his last name was now 'Hibari'? Pure coincidence. Who's to say that there isn't a real family with that exact last name calling Japan – or some other country – home?

Realizing that his mother had ties to what was essentially the Chinese mafia? …That one was a bit harder to explain away, but hey, the world was a big place. Who would have guessed that his mother was involved in something like that?

Awakening his Dying Will Flame and meeting the current Storm Arcobaleno – who turned out to be a very distant uncle of his? That was when Mitsuru realized exactly where and which work of fiction he had been reborn – again, pun not intended – into.

The sudden revelation also raised a bunch of questions: Why was he reborn – he was on a roll today, wasn't he? – into a world that wasn't supposed to be 'real'? How was he reborn into such a world anyway? Why did he retain all his memories right off the bat? Wasn't reincarnation supposed to 'wipe the slate clean' so to speak? Why the Hibari family of all families? Was there actually a 'Mitsuru Hibari' in the series that was never spoken of or showcased due to publishing restraints? Or did something far more sinister happen to the rest of the Hibari family sans Kyoya which resulted in the character than people knew and loved?

'… I don't think the series went too much into detail about Kyoya's past… other than he's lived in Namimori his entire life and met Ryohei before the plot actually began…'

Mitsuru let out a sigh and cast his attention back to the purple fire burning brightly against the darkness of his bedroom.

… Surprisingly, the Flames did emit some kind of brightness and illuminated his room with a soft white light – which was weird in-and-of-itself seeing as Cloud Flames were purple in color.

Why didn't they give off a purple light? Did all Flames give off light or just Cloud Flames? If all Flames did emit light, did each type shine brighter than others? Did Sun Flames give off the most light while Mist the least amount? Also, since his own Cloud Flames were cool to the touch, did that mean that all Flames cold? Or did 'brighter' Flames like Sun and Storm give off more warmth and heat? One would assume that those Flames did emit some sort of heat seeing as their main property was regeneration and destruction, respectively. Did all Flame Users have the ability to draw out their Flames without a conduit – like a ring or weapon? Or was that capability only reserved for those with stronger Flames? Furthermore, what constituted as a 'strong' Flame? Was it solely dependent on the resolve or will one had? In that case, wouldn't the strength and purity of Flames fluctuate seeing as one's resolve and will could change either weakening or strengthening depending on one's situation and experiences? Did that mean that Dying Will Flames were similar to the Patronus charm in the sense that a stronger 'desire' created a stronger Flame?

"Mitsuru, dinner's ready!"

Lifting his head at the call of his mother, Mitsuru… shut off? Canceled? Ended? – his Flames and got to his feet. He still had so many questions and theories running through his mind, however, those could wait until after dinner.

His mother was making his favorite tonight, hamburger steak!

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VII.

Once dinner had been eaten and all the dishes had been washed, dried, and put away, Mitsuru decided to sit down with his uncle and have a serious conversation with the man-trapped-in-a-baby's-body.

Not about Mitsuru's own man-trapped-in-a-child's-body experience, nor would he talk about the potentially damning future knowledge he carried in his brain – he had seen far too many movies and read far too many books to know that that would lead him.

Which brings up another question: Would he eventually meet Mukuro, Byakuran, Aria, and Yuni? Would they realize that he's more than he seem? Mukuro could realize that Mitsuru's soul and mind are far older than what they should be while Byakuran, Aria, and Yuni could easily figure out that he's not from 'this' world via their supernatural abilities to look into parallel worlds and the future respectively.

Ah well, the only thing he can do at the moment is prepare himself mentally and physically for their potential meeting.

"Uncle Fon, I want to learn more about my Cloud Flames."

This is that new OC KHR fic that I mentioned in one of my previous updates.

(I should really stop with all these KHR OC fics... *shrugs* Oh well.)

This time around, Tsuna is NOT the focus of this OC rather, it's Hibari Kyoya!

Although I say OC, Hibari Mitsuru is more of a SI!OC though he isn't based on myself or anyone I know.

As always, please let me know what you all think via PM or Review!