Warnings: this story will contain sexual content.

家庭教師ヒットマン REBORN! © 天野明

Chapter one—Confessions

The appearances of families weren't something I usually wasted my thoughts into. I just regarded it as usual—their appearances ranged from identical, minor differences and sometimes even looking as though they were picked up from the curb somewhere around the city due to the vast difference. When I'd glanced in the mirror, I saw something akin to the believed appearance of a spirit. It was natural, after all, so I'd simply shrugged it off of my shoulders before continuing on with my life. My parents were different in looks, too. My father had a few of my features, namely the fluffy hair and harsh shape of our eyes. He wasn't a brunet like I was, instead possessed a bright mop of blond hair that hurt my eyes if I looked too long at it. His irides were a shade of cerulean, too. I'd always questioned whether or not we were related, but as soon as I stole a glance at his features, I was reassured. There was no way I was randomly thrown into a family if I bared a resemblance to at least one of the members.

My mother, on the other hand, was completely different. They were both blondes, but hers was richer, the tresses looking almost red when they were damp, or wet from water. I hadn't inherited her colour irides either, as they were magenta.

There weren't any photo albums throughout the house, for a reason that was never answered, so I didn't know whether or not my appearance was similar to other blood relatives.

When I'd asked if I could see a picture of family members, or even some from when I was in my younger years, my parents had stared me down with an expression I couldn't identify. I remembered that I had blinked in shock before voicing my question again, immediately becoming disappointed when I received no answer. It was definitely odd, I knew that for sure.

"Mother," I called to the woman inside of the kitchen. She'd called me down a few moments ago, saying there was something important that I needed to know. My curiosity had immediately been piqued so I wandered down the stairs a few seconds after I'd processed her call.

My feet had echoed through the hallway as I walked across the floor, even more so when I stepped inside the too white kitchen. The tiles inside were almost blinding, especially due to the contrast between the black marble surfaces and the black cupboards. It was an odd colour scheme, to say the least, but most of the house consisted of it. The other splashes of colours throughout the whole house were a few blues and even a purple tone inside my own room. They were definitely fond of monotone shades; the small paintings that were placed on random walls proved that, too.

"Kyouya." She sighed. "I have something to tell you."

Unintentionally, my eyebrow arched. I was interested, that was for sure, but the fact that she was taking so long to get to the point was making me slowly tap my foot in impatience. For the sixteen years of my life, my mother had never called me down simply to tell me that there was something I needed to know. The normal situation in my family would be to pass a note or a letter with the information placed inside of it.

Barely ever did we talk face to face, letting our feelings come out in the open. That seemed more like a herbivoric move, if I was being honest. I wasn't comfortable enough with my own parents to let my expression be completely clean. I always toned them down; if I was feeling happy, a small smirk would spread across my lips and I'd laugh on the very rare occasion. It was normal in my eyes. I didn't like the look of others merely letting their emotions become spread across their faces. It made them appear vulnerable, even more so when there were a large group of individuals all experiencing them.

"Your father and I haven't exactly been truthful."

Excuse me? I thought incredulously. My eyebrow quickly lost its posture, falling down with the other as a frown was spread across my face. My expression surely changed to one of disapproval, even more so when I saw my mother grimace a small amount. She was an odd woman; on some days, she would be aloof whereas on others, much like that day, her emotions would be in full swing. It was almost as though she was somewhat bipolar.

"It's not as though we intended to lie to you, though," she said softly.

If she had used that tone of voice to seem comforting, it really wasn't working. If anything it was making me more annoyed. I crossed my arms over my chest in annoyance, waiting for her to get on with whatever she had to say. The thoughts coming through my head were almost incoherent, but I knew one; I would have rather gotten this in a letter.

"Your father's out of town, you know that," she pointed out, "but it's not for business."

Oh? That was definitely the first I'd heard of such a thing. I'd assumed he'd gone away for work like he'd usually done. If this time was a lie, I was wondering whether or not the others were too.

My eyes narrowed up at her—she was a tall woman after all, I only came up to her shoulder—before I chewed on my bottom lip in uncertainty. I didn't like the feeling of being lied to, even more so when it was admitted to my face. I would've definitely liked to have received such information in a letter instead. I could've taken my time reading through the sentences instead of having the feeling of dread flow through my body.

"Well," she started before stopping to awkwardly cough in her hand. She'd averted her eyes long ago, choosing to stare at the tiles behind my body instead of directly into my eyes. I didn't know what expression I had on my face, but it was surely making her more uncomfortable.

"Yes?" I pressed.

"Well." She gave herself more time. "You have a brother."

I'd blinked in surprise, hardly believing what I'd heard. I chose the logical reaction, though; simply convincing myself that I was so worried about what she might have came out with that my mind decided to replace her words with jargon. That was definitely the most suitable reaction.

I shook my head quickly before letting my eyes trail back to her face, unintentionally furrowing my eyebrows when I saw her dramatically biting down on her lips. "Pardon?" I asked.

"Kyouya, you're not an only child," she explained.

"Don't be ridiculous, Mother," I sighed. There was no way that I had a brother, if that was really the gender that I'd heard. I would've remembered seeing my mother walking around with a swollen stomach and even being absent for a few days to give birth. There was no way that she would've given up a newborn after only holding him in her arms for a few hours straight. My mother was definitely not that type of person; if she'd started something, namely giving birth to a child, she would've stuck to it for a few years and not given it up for adoption.

She groaned softly whilst placing her hand over her face. "This is harder than I thought."

"Hn?"

"No, really. You have a brother, Kyouya," she stressed. It looked as though she was having some sort of a breakdown, clutching dramatically at her face whilst trying to explain something that was clearly not true.

She's never normally this much of a herbivore. "No, I don't."

"This is harder if you're talking, Kyouya," she complained.

In response, I leant back against the wall beside me. The hands were removed from her face at some point, now placed beside her sides awkwardly as she still looked off to the side and not directly at my face.

"It wasn't out of choice that he lived away from you. There were some complications."

This still doesn't sound believable, I thought dully to myself. There was definitely sorrow present in her voice, but it wasn't enough to convince me. It could've been some sort of a sick joke, after all.

"He's older than you by a year," she explained. That definitely explained why I hadn't heard of him before, but I was still not believing it. There had never been any indications that I'd had a brother before, not even a photo around the house. Although I'd probably only looked inside of a photo album once, I clearly remembered it was only a family photo of three. My father, my mother and myself.

Maybe she has an imaginary son. "His name?" I asked.

"Dino," she said. "His name's Dino."

"That's an odd name," I commented without a second thought. It was a big leap from calling one child Dino to calling the next Kyouya. Not possible in any way. Bullshit.

"He looks more like your father than me," she explained. "Dino took his last name, too. He only took my hair colour, really. You did know that Hibari is my name, right?"

"I knew that, Mother."

Dino Cavallone. It was an odd name, completely different to my own. I hadn't known what my father's last name was but I did know that Hibari came from my mother. I'd never questioned it, simply going along with whatever they said.

"I'm sorry, Kyouya," she apologised softly, "I didn't want to hide it from you."

"And?" I asked coldly. You still did.

"He's coming back with your father." Despite trying to dull down my emotions on the outside, there was no doubt that my eyes had widened a considerable amount at her comment. I didn't know how I felt about the secret being kept from me, but the same person who was finally being revealed to suddenly turn up would be more than awkward.

There was no way I would've been comfortable with that, even if my mother attempted to butter me up and make me accept this Dino, if it was even his real name.

"Is this a sick joke?" I questioned.

"Joke?" she repeated. "I wouldn't joke about this."

"I'm not buying this," I spat. Acting as though I was a spoilt brat, not a sixteen-year-old, I walked out of the room at a fast pace. I wasn't going to go as far as to stomp my feet down onto the wooden planks, making the sounds echo against the wall and alerting my mother of my mood. I'd rather be quiet, as usual, and not express as much as possible. That was the way into the future for me.

After I'd made my way into my room, I sat down on my single bed covered in a single black duvet, which contrasted with the rest of my white and random splotches of purple room, I'd stretched my arms out above my head for a few moments. It felt as though there was relief oozing out of my pores after I'd finished stretching, completely forgetting what my mother had attempted to convince me of earlier. It was complete bullshit either way—she'd finally hit her midlife crisis.

I'd reached for my laptop after a few moments, powering it up quickly and choosing to search on the internet for something remotely interesting to do. In the past year or so, I'd been interested in gaming. It had led me to talk on a few forums—which were full of complete herbivores, of course—which meant if I was bored, I'd like to search through a few sites to see which victim I could talk to. It was quite amusing seeing online reactions; they were completely different from what would happen in real life. The reactions weren't exaggerated or full of emotions, simply characters and sometimes faces if the individual was incompetent enough. I blinked in shock when I'd loaded one of the pages, which I'd only signed up to yesterday. I hadn't actually got round to playing the game, losing interest almost immediately after it had downloaded.

My eyes were narrowed as I opened the message and even more so when I'd read what was inside.

Count Blonde—Hey there. You've just started today, right? I did, too. We can work together! It's nice to meet you by the way.

I chewed on my lips for a few moments, contemplating whether or not to type a reply. I'd settled myself down near the back of my bed so my back was pressed against the wall uncomfortably. Pulling the laptop into my lap, making sure there was a pillow there so I wouldn't heat my lap up too severely, I flexed my fingers for a few seconds before typing my reply.

Namibird—I'm quitting. Don't bother speaking to me.

Reaching for the novel that was placed by my desk, I pulled the book into my lap, putting the laptop beside me on a low power, and started to search for the chapter I was previously on. My mother still hadn't came upstairs, following me up, and my father was definitely still out of town. It had to be for business, I assured myself. I'd lost myself in the novel for what seemed like forever until the sound of an email alert disturbed me. I blinked in surprise before placing the book down and turning towards the screen. Loading the forum up again, I saw that I'd gotten a reply.

Count Blonde—That's rather rude. I think I'm going to spam you until you're friendly now.

With my eye twitching, I typed my reply quickly.

Namibird—I'll hunt you down and gut you.

Let's see how he responds to that, I mentally snorted. There was no way someone would continue speaking unless they were absolutely lonely and I was the only source of amusement for them. What I'd said wasn't relatively amusing, though, hopefully just threatening. Almost instantly, I got a reply.

Count Blonde—Go for it. I'll die with a smile.

Namibird—My gutting skill would probably bring you pleasure.

Count Blonde—I should hope so.

Namibird—Good.

The expression upon my face at that moment was incredulous. Even though my responses were awful, much like the other person's too, I found myself becoming quite amused. A small smile was playing upon my lips as I read over the messages, especially the joke that seemed to have been running between us.

Count Blonde—Do you threaten everyone like this or am I lucky?

Namibird—You're the first today, I typed honestly.

Count Blonde—I feel special! Thanks, man.

Namibird—I don't appreciate sarcasm.

For some reason or another, I found myself typing a lot more than usual. On the normal day my average amount of posts would've been at least five or so, but for at least half an hour I'd been typing to this stranger who had some kind of warped personality. Maybe they're a masochist, I thought grimly to myself.

Count Blonde—It's nice to meet you anyway, even if you're rather rude. You're not a pedophile, are you?

I stared at my screen incredulously as my eyebrows rose.

Namibird—If I was a pedophile, I would've messaged you first, Herbivore.

Count Blonde—Touché.

"Kyouya?" I heard my mother call.

Groaning a small amount, I moved the laptop off of my lap and slowly got off of the bed. She was probably just calling me down to apologise for the random nonsense she was spouting earlier. Hopefully. As I walked down the stairs at a slow pace, I ran a hand through my hair whilst trying to keep my irritation under control. I felt bad for snapping at her earlier, even if she was becoming delusional at that point in time. It wasn't exactly acceptable to be rude to my parents; they'd cared for me and even knew when to leave me the hell alone.

Mother was standing at the bottom of the stairs, staring at my approaching figure. I'd raised an eyebrow in curiosity when her eyes widened a small amount as she looked at me.

"You do believe me, don't you?" she asked.

I would be worried if I did. It was more likely for me to believe in fairies rather than believing her nonsense. "Of course not," I scoffed.

"Your father and Dino will be back early tomorrow morning," she confessed. "Please, don't be rude."

Imaginary son, I told myself. I wasn't intentionally rude; it just seemed to have most of the time. If I was happy to see someone, even if it was rare, I wasn't going to start running towards them and then jumping onto them. In reality, I'd simply acknowledge them with a small nod of my head or a hum of approval coming from my throat.

"Kyouya, really. I'm not making this up," Mother warned me.

I merely nodded my head quickly, letting her think that I believed the complete and utter bullshit she seemed to have been releasing. She might have been back to her normal self, quiet and under control, when she'd either had some caffeine running through her veins or when father would be back.

He'd somehow always made her calm down just by being in her presence. The blond hair probably drew her eyes towards him and made her attention span become small. That was definitely why. Usually I'd shake my head at their behaviour—my parents seemed to orientate around each other without realizing it. When father was alone, he'd either be reading a book or continuing on with paperwork from his work that he'd left until a later time. Sometimes, he'd be on the phone to a client and hang up as soon as mother had walked through the door. She'd never took notice of such an act though, but when something similar was happening to her she did the exact same thing; hanging up on a friend or a relative, I didn't know, and walking towards him to welcome him home.

Whilst shaking my head as I started walking up the stairs again, there was only one thought going through my head. Weird people.

My laptop was turned off to charge up after I'd entered the room, I didn't even check to see if there were any more replies full of bullshit from the random person earlier. Shrugging it off of my shoulders, I placed the electronic device down onto the floor before settling myself down onto my bed. A small smile spread onto my lips as I felt something settle itself down into my hair. There was definitely one thing that I didn't hide my emotions around and it just so happened to be an animal. I raised my hand slowly, trying not to alarm him too severely, and slowly moved my index finger to stroke his small head.

Hibird was a small, fluffy and yellow bird that my parents had given to me for my ninth birthday. I was bemused at first, thinking thoughts along the lines of why they'd even considered that I would have wanted some sort of an animal. It didn't take long for me to grow attached to him though, that was for sure. After only a few weeks, Hibird was settled in my hair or perched upon my shoulder everywhere I went, quietly chirping my name when the time was right. I was surprised at first, of course, when my name was exclaimed in a loud but very high pitched voice. I'd blinked in shock, looking for the source and only meeting his beady black eyes.

Clever thing, I thought fondly whilst stroking the top of his head.

"Hibari," he cheeped. He'd carried on to repeat my name a few more times, increasing in volume with every syllable he pronounced.

"You're loud today," I commented.

A chirp was the answer I received.

It wasn't as though I had a lot of things to do that day; I'd simply been home for an hour at the most before my mother had called me down. I'd been at school, Namimori High School, for most of the day. Even if I had skipped one of the lessons and decided to take a nap on top of the school rooftop, I attended enough classes that I wasn't kicked out. It wasn't by choice that I'd attended there; I wanted nothing more than to be out of education doing whatever I wanted.

My father had stared me down when I'd let it slip that I might have attempted to threaten the principal at my old middle school to let me repeat a year. It was only a little threat, there weren't any weapons involved after all. I should have felt slightly bad for making an old lady frown at me before shaking, in what I assumed in fear, for a few minutes. I didn't though; simply strolling out of the room and returning home to let it slip to my parents what had happened.

School was not a time I enjoyed. Since I wasn't too familiar with any of the individuals, I had the pleasure of watching them from afar. That didn't mean I enjoyed what I saw, though—most of the time the events I witnessed were disgusting, full of lies and wrong in so many ways. I could clearly hear and see when someone complained about their so called best friend behind their backs. When a couple had a spat, went off to cheat on one another and then make up in less than a day. It was ridiculous the types of things I could observe without being directly involved. It meant I could clearly see the awful things people were capable of, no matter the age.

Middle school wasn't as bad as high school. Back then, before I'd entered high school, I'd obtained somewhat of a reputation. It was merely my quick temper that had gotten the best of me, causing me to lash out at unexpected times. Soon, many individuals became aware of me and some even fled from the room when I'd walked inside. At first, I'd quirked my eyebrow in curiosity before shrugging it off of my shoulders. Then it turned into annoyance. It wasn't as though I was going to bite anyone's head off if they came far too close. I didn't like people within my personal bubble, but it was extreme to think I would lash out at someone for being inside the same room.

The first day of high school—which was almost a month ago—was definitely odd. I hadn't recognised any faces and somehow, no one recognized me either. It was the awkward moment of staring at someone, waiting for them to gasp loudly before walking away. It hadn't happened yet though and somehow, I'd held my anger in for the past weeks. I'd taken my irritation out on a random delinquent down an alleyway a few days ago, but I'd never seen them before so it was all right. I actually liked it where no one knew me. I could skip lessons easily, since no one was concerned, and there were no whispers circulating around groups when I'd walked past. It was peaceful, to say the least.

"Kyouya!"

"Damnit," I muttered under my breath. My mother calling up to me at such a time usually meant only one thing; she wanted me to attempt to help out with dinner.

When my parents were out of town, which was almost weekly for one night, I made dinner for myself but that didn't mean I was always successful. It didn't seem to turn out well for me, something would always burn and I'd end up clucking my tongue in disgust. It wasn't how I wanted to spend my days, washing out burnt saucepans and frying pans. I'd given up after awhile, settling to cook noodles or something similar when they disappeared. The water did over boil sometimes, spilling out of the top of the saucepan and staining the cooker.

As I grasped my door handle, I took in a deep breath to keep my irritation levels under control. I wasn't going to snap out at an inanimate object where anyone could clearly see. The door creaked as it was opened, making me inwardly cringe a small amount, and creaked even more when it was shut behind me. I need to oil the hinges, I thought to myself.

Preparing dinner wasn't as disastrous as I'd anticipated. I simply had to chop a few vegetables, an easy task. Placing the finished dishes down onto the table, I took my seat across as I waited for my mother to bring the rest in.

As I was chewing on a small portion of rice, my mother found it necessary to bring up something unimportant.

"You're going to like Dino, Kyouya."

Him again? I thought incredulously to myself. It didn't seem the appropriate time for her to bring up her imaginary son. If anything, now was the time for being quiet and trying to get through the food as quickly as possible. I always found it awkward to sit down at the table with others, but I couldn't exactly steal the plates away and eat up in my room. Not only was that disrespectful, I didn't like the thought of it.

"Why is that?" I reluctantly asked. I can humour her for awhile.

"Because he's your brother," she exclaimed.

Almost automatically, my eyebrows rose before I gave my mother the worst look. Just because he was apparently a blood relative, that didn't mean I had to like him. It took me years to come to terms with my parents and start to like them a little bit. I'd found them idiotic—mostly my mother, though—and dismissive. Now that I was older I could see that it was just their personalities and that I shouldn't have taken it to heart when I was younger.

It was definitely a traumatic event for a five year old when a picture was ripped up in front of their face. I couldn't remember exactly what I'd created—probably a crappy rendition of a teddy or something—but my father had taken one look at it before calling it worthless. As I looked back on the event, I couldn't help but admit that he'd done the right thing. If he'd complimented it and egged me on to do something ridiculous, I would've looked like a fool.

"He's been staying with your grandmother since before you were born." Plausible, but I'm still not buying it. It would've made sense that I hadn't seen him if had been staying with my grandmother, but since I'd never met her or known of her existence, I believed it was bullshit.

"Really," I muttered, unconvinced.

"There was a problem on your father's side of the family, so she decided to take him in."

Life story time? I blinked in surprise. I hadn't expected my mother to start to open up to me and tell me what was wrong with half of the family. I'd always known it wasn't normal, heck I'd never even seen their faces, but it was a bit extreme to steal her imaginary friend and son. Maybe they thought she was crazy?

"I didn't want them to." Her voice had creaked near the end, just before she had only two syllables left to pronounce. Unconsciously my eyebrows furrowed at how convincing her words were starting to sound. I hadn't seen my mother cry in over five years—the last time being a fight with my father—but it seemed as though she was awfully close at that moment.

I didn't know what I was supposed to do to comfort, so I simply placed my chopsticks down onto the table to listen to what she had to say. It seemed like the least I could do. My arms were softly folded over my chest as I waited for her to explain. Her position was also convincing. The chopsticks were placed on the table, much like mine, and the dishes in front of us were long since forgotten. She'd placed her elbows onto the table and gently placed her head into her hands, shielding her expression into her palms.

"Why is he only coming back now?" I questioned.

"She died."Who? "That woman died and Dino had no place to go," she explained in a soft voice. The only time the volume had increased was whilst she was insulting the old woman.

"So you sent Father out to get him?"

"Without hesitation, yes." A nod of her head, even though it was still in her hands, confirmed her statement.

"Do you even know what he looks like?" I asked.

"Handsome, tall," she sighed. I'd toned her out after two words, but she'd clearly carried on to praise him more. Her head was out of her hands and they were clasped in front of her as she stared into the air adoringly. She clearly had a place for him in her heart and at that point in time, I was about fifty percent convinced that he was real.

I still wasn't expecting him to turn up tomorrow though, probably just a dog or some animal remotely similar on a leash that would be led inside. There was absolutely no way that my father would come home with a random male who attempted to pose as my long lost brother. Imaginary long lost brother.

"That's nice," I retorted sarcastically.

"We've sent him pictures of you throughout the years," she told me whilst finally looking into my eyes. Her magenta irides seemed to be glittering with happiness at that moment and I found myself contemplating whether or not to ruin it. As much as I would've hated myself, she needed to come down low since I was disgusted with her actions.

"You've sent him pictures of me?" I repeated incredulously. "So he's known I exist whilst I've only just found out?" I spat through gritted teeth.

"Wait—" Mother stumbled over her words, but she was quickly silenced when I spoke again.

"Did I not deserve to know? I thought you were better than this." My hands were loudly placed down on the table with enough force to shake the bowls and plates placed upon it. I narrowed my eyes down at my mother, whose expression seemed to have been a cross between surprise and sadness, before I moved my chair back noisily.

I walked away—not stomping my feet still—and kept my eyes glued down onto the floor. It wasn't as if I was angry at my mother for keeping him away, I was quite happy for that, but it was the fact that she didn't deem me important enough to know. It was humiliating that he was sent pictures where as I had lived my life oblivious. Even if he was still imaginary, or at least I hoped so, the thought of such a thing was irritating.

As soon as I was inside of my room, I leant back against my door and ran my right hand through my hair roughly. I didn't know what I wanted to do to relieve my irritation, but I knew that punching a wall wasn't the way forward. I'd tried that before, causing my dominant hand to be out of use for almost two weeks. Definitely not worth it, I reminded myself. Somehow, I found myself lying down on my bed with my arm strategically placed over my eyes, stopping the sunlight from penetrating my retinas and annoying me further.

"Not now, Hibird," I sighed.

The sound of wings fluttering met my ears, so I quickly assumed that he'd left the room. It was good that over the years he'd eventually learnt when to leave me alone. When I'd first gotten him, Hibird stayed attached to me for weeks on end. It was awkward to walk into the bathroom with a bird perched on top of my shoulder or even my head, but eventually, he'd learnt to fly away and return to my side when it was appropriate. I'd believed I was too harsh on him at first, even looking down at him with a frown upon my face, but that was long gone.

What is there to do? It was probably around eight o'clock at night at that point. I knew that I'd stayed laying down on my bed for far too long doing nothing; the stiffness in my limbs proved that too. I didn't have enough enthusiasm to walk outside and find someone that I deemed appropriate to slaughter. That meant looking around and then wasting energy when I found out that they just weren't worth my time. I stretched my arms over my head quickly, popping my joints loudly and making myself cringe in the process, before reaching for my laptop again. Gaming was tempting at that moment. I could get my dose of violence without wasting too much energy; simply clicking away loudly at the keys and filling the silence up in the room. The power button was pressed quickly and I gnawed on the inside of my cheek to pass the time. There wasn't much choice of what I could play, though; I'd spent most of my time the other day deleting the games I didn't play anymore or what I'd lost interest in.

I decided to check my emails first and straight away, I noticed that I'd received three replies on the forum I was on earlier. I arched an eyebrow in curiosity before clicking on the link, loading the page up and scanning through the page.

Count Blonde—How old are you then, Namibird?

Count Blonde—I'm sorry if that was a touchy subject. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to.

Count Blonde—I wasn't trying to stalk you! Don't just leave me hanging here!

Really? I thought incredulously to myself. I found myself replying quickly, even though the messages were ranging from three hours ago to one. He seemed to have taken a liking to spamming me, that was for sure.

Namibird—I'm not on here all day, you know. I don't appreciate getting literally junk mail from you.

I minimized the browser quickly, searching through my files to see if there was anything I wanted to play. Apparently, there was not after ten minutes of looking. Instead, I'd deleted even more programs and started to sort through my music folder. It was full of crap that I didn't even acknowledge anymore. When the sound of an email echoed through my room, I blinked in surprise before opening it up. Yet again, I got a reply.

Count Blonde—It's not like I am either. I'm just bored in the car; you're a good distraction.

The thought of being a distraction for someone brought a frown onto my face. If anything, I just wanted to insult Count Blonde instead of being friendly and bringing him away from life.

Namibird—I couldn't care less about your life story.

Count Blonde—Well, I'm male. I guess you can tell I'm blonde. I'm a teenager.

My index finger and thumb automatically rose up to press against the bridge of my nose.

Namibird—Did I ask for that information?

Count Blonde—I know you wanted it really. I could tell by the way you were typing.

My expression soon changed to one of disbelief. Count Blonde was definitely more of an idiot than I'd ever anticipated. I didn't know how much more of his idiocy I could take; my patience was getting tested, for sure.

Count Blonde—What about you?

Namibird—None of your business. Goodbye.

I logged out quickly, making sure to close my email so I wouldn't have to get any more annoying alerts saying I had another reply. I couldn't have cared less if I got a reply from him. If anything, I was close to unsubscribing or classing it as junk mail so I wouldn't have to put up with him any more. He was probably a lonely thirteen-year-old, after all. That's what he came across as anyway. I would've been beyond surprised if he turned out to be more than eighteen. Unbelievable. I shook my head lightly to myself before placing the laptop back onto the floor and running a hand through my hair, sorting out the stray stands that were sticking out.

After musing over what I could do to keep myself occupied, I walked towards one of my drawers and pulled out a fresh pair of boxers. I shrugged myself out of my black school jacket that had been placed across my shoulders. Placing it across the back of my chair, I removed my socks too before padding across the hallway towards the bathroom. The wood felt cold against the soles of my feet, even more so when I stepped onto the white tiles of the bathroom. It was almost blinding walking into there; all of the room was white apart from the black towels lined up against the wall, hanging upon a railing. I rubbed my eyes from the brightness, trying to get my pupils adjusted to the difference outside. I would've rather showered in the dark but, of course, knowing my luck from that day I might have fallen over. I groped the wall for a few moments, trying to find the light switch until my hand came across the cold metal. I flicked it on to full quickly, cringing a small amount at the difference from before. I turned the knob for the shower on quickly, pulling my arm away so the water didn't fall on top of it and so I didn't shiver from the temperature. The last time I'd gotten inside too quickly, I'd hissed loudly out of discomfort and even glared at the knob for a few moments for turning it onto maximum. Now I knew to wait a few minutes before the water was fully heated and I wouldn't be shocked at the temperature.

My clothes were placed onto the floor quickly—not folded since they were dirty—and my clean boxers were placed on the counter side for me to change into afterwards. I didn't own any pyjamas to change into anymore; the last ones I'd grown out of and was too lazy to purchase a new pair. I wasn't into internet shopping either, I found it too awkward.

A shiver from the sudden change of temperature went through my body after I'd jumped into the shower. Immediately, my bangs flattened and went into my face and even a few of the strands awkwardly fell just in front of my eyes. I flicked them out of the way quickly before reaching for the shower gel. I'd lathered myself quickly and washed it off of my body before I realized I had a little problem. A small groan came out of my throat before I could stop it. I ran a hand through my hair in contemplation, wondering whether or not to engage in such an activity.

Apparently, my body's needs got the better of me. It didn't take me more than a few seconds to ponder over whether or not to continue and since I'd apparently not be alone after today, I decided to. I shut my eyes from the awkwardness before wrapping my hand slowly around my arousal, biting down on my lip at the change in the temperature. My palm felt warmer than the water that was pouring down onto my body. Slowly, I stroked my member whilst trying to keep my small moans at the back of my throat. I didn't know how much the room echoed, but considering that I'd heard the echo from just the door closing it was soon going to become embarrassing. I felt my cheeks start to heat up a considerable amount as I trailed a fingertip across my tip, unconsciously jerking forward at the sensation. I could feel the small jolts of pleasure building up by my lower half and even the uncomfortable spiralling inside of my stomach that was slowly, but surely, travelling lower and become more intensified.

As my pace increased and I could feel myself unconsciously writhing, I could tell that I was getting closer. My cheeks were stained red from the pleasure and probably what was embarrassment. Even more so as I came messily into my hand, releasing a low moan at the feeling of release. "A-ah."

I stared down at my hand which was now covered in some of the white liquid in disgust. Washing it away as quickly as possible, I continued on with the rest of my tasks such as washing my hair.

Walking out of the bathroom with my boxers in place and a towel placed on top of my head, I'd emptied my dirty clothes into the washing basket quickly before retreating into my room. I was still feeling humiliated for what I'd done, but I knew that at least it would keep me from engaging in such a thing for a few more days. For some reason, I didn't like masturbating. Just no, I thought to myself. I towel dried my hair quickly before letting the towel hang limply across my shoulders as I sat down on my bed. My curiosity got the better of me though, that was for sure. I clicked onto my email, amazed that I had four replies this time instead of three even though it was probably not even forty minutes ago that I'd left. Someone has no life, I thought with disgust evident in my mental voice.

Count Blonde—Ah! You're leaving already? I don't have anyone else to talk to!

Count Blonde—You're just playing hard to get.

Count Blonde—Okay, maybe not.

Count Blonde—I guess I'll speak to you tomorrow. I've got to come off now, I'm at the hotel. Bye, Nami!

"Nami?" I said out loud with bewilderment clear in my voice. "That's a feminine name."

Shaking my head, I turned the power off without even bothering to reply. I didn't have enough motivation to reply with anything remotely threatening. I pulled the duvet over my body after the laptop was placed on the floor, pressing my head further into my pillows to try and get into a comfortable position. It didn't work too well, though; it took me at least half an hour to finally lull myself into a sleep.

"Kyouya." I heard my mother call in the morning, successfully pulling me out of my unconsciousness.

I blinked in surprise before moving my hands up to rub my eyes and attempt to rub the drowsiness I was still feeling away, too. It didn't work though, I could tell that since as soon as I'd pressed my feet against the floor a large yawn had ripped out of my throat. I placed a hand over my mouth to yawn into as I exited my room, still trying to keep my eyes open. Scratching the back of my neck, I walked down the stairs and peered over the banister, trying to see where my mother was calling from.

"Kyouya," she called again, this time drawling out the vowels of my name.

"Here," I answered before yawning into my hand again.

The sound of the doorbell ringing cut her off. "Would you get that, please?"

After staring down at my attire—of just my boxers—I reluctantly stepped down from the last step, onto the floor and wandered towards the door. There wasn't any hole or a window to see who it was; I simply had to open the door to inspect who it was. I grasped the door handle quickly, hearing my mother's whistling echoing throughout the hall, before turning the handle and opening the door slowly.

Whoever was at the door I didn't get to glance at for long. Before I knew what had happened, I saw a blob of yellow rushing towards me and the wind hitting against my face before my back hit the floor with a low thud. I could feel the weight and heat from a body on top of mine, but I was frozen from surprise.

"Kyouya," the stranger muttered affectionately.

AN: This chapter is edited to make the parents Alaude and Oregano, rather than just OCs that I made up on a whim before. I apologise for the OOCness, and also the odd tone this first chapter has. There are no page breaks, too, which I find annoying now that I look back on it.