Hibari had never liked being in the presence of other people. Even from a young age, he found them to be whiny, weak, irritating and mindless. They were noisy, boring and he found every instant he spent forced to interact with another human a complete waste of time. It wasnât until elementary school that he discovered the perfect terminology to describe how he felt about the populaceâherbivores, omnivores, and carnivores. Herbivores were the weakest link in the food chain, more often than not unable to defend themselves and pathetically going about their daily lives. Omnivores were slightly tolerable, as they had the ability to fight and defend their territory, but were partial to peaceful interaction. Carnivores were the top of the food chain, ruthless and dominating and unbeatable.
Hibari was the only carnivore he knew. He didnât know any omnivores at all. Everyone that surrounded him was an herbivore.
He was five when he first enacted his natural-born ability to lead. He had been sitting alone in the sandbox, building a towering fortress of tightly-packed sand. A couple of kids approached him, wanting to play in the sand as well. Hibari narrowed his eyes at them, opening his mouth to tell them to disappear, when a thought struck him.
âFine,â he said coolly. âBut you do whatever I say. If you donât, Iâll bite you to death.â
They recoiled slightly at his sneering tone, but did not retreat, which was their mistake. From then on, Hibari realized how to deal with herbivores. He could not change them permanently, but he could control them to behave as he wanted them to. For the next few weeks, as his sand castle grew in size, the children who wanted to utilize the sandbox were forced to comply with his rules. No talking, and they had to do exactly as he said.
There were the foolish ones who tried to rebel. They thought they were strong enough, brave enough to stand up to him. They were swiftly dealt with, one blow would send them flying to the ground with a bruised eye or cut lip. Angered parents would confront him, but they were just as herbivorous as their children.
He would glare at them, indifferent and cold, and they would eventually grow unnerved enough to scuttle their offspring away. His mother ignored the complaints of parents, dismissing his behaviour as playful.
And if a child could not successfully execute his directions, they were promptly bitten to death as well. He had no use for the weak and incompetent.
Hibari was ten when he utilized the full potential of his strength. He was walking the halls of his elementary school, anger twisting through him at the unnecessary noises that echoed off the walls, the pounding of footsteps against the tiles. He glowered at the observing teachers, who seemed content with this lack of control and order. His head began to ache and when one of his students slammed into his shoulder on accident, he grabbed hold of the boy and shoved him against the lockers.
âRunning in the halls is against the rules,â he growled.
âGet off! Youâre not a teacher, you canât tell me what to do!â
Hibari removed his tonfas from the inside of his school jacket and sent the boy sailing down the hall. Everyone immediately stopped, eyes widening in fear, and one teacher stepped forwards.
âHey, put those away thisââ
Hibari struck the wall with his tonfa, creating a hole in the cement and sending chunks scattering in all directions. The teacher stilled, Hibariâs dark eyes drilling into him, filled with disgust. âIf you will not reign in the herbivores, I will.â Moving his gaze to sweep across the now-quiet corridor, he said, âBetter. Keep it silent or Iâll bite you to death.â
The kids turned to stare at Hibariâs victim, who was straggling to his feet, uniform torn and blood trickling down his chin. They hastily continued on their way, heads ducked down and considerably quieter than they were seconds before.
From that day on, Hibari was the unofficial hall monitor of his elementary school. He easily put the herbivores in their place and maintained the peace.
He was a leader, though not quite in the traditional sense. He did not do democracy, there was no teamwork. He made all decisions and enforced all punishments, regardless if his victim believed they deserved it or not. He ruled with an iron fist, and the herbivores either obeyed or were cut down for their insolence. He silenced the rowdy and cowed the obnoxious.
When Hibari enrolled into Namimori Middle, he quickly rose to power. He became the head of the Disciplinary Committee with little trouble and established dominance over the student populace. The teachers kept quiet and left him to do his work, fearful of consequence for their interference. The Disciplinary Committee members consisted of people who sincerely admired Hibari and his strength, and willingly followed him. It was different, not to have to force them to do his bidding, but he came to appreciate them in his own way.
Everything was perfect. There was no resistance. He never had to break a sweat when dealing with delinquents. Â
It was very boring. Until he came.
The baby with the fedora. One day Hibari didnât know he existed, the next Reborn became a permanent presence at Namimori Middle. He was almost always by the side of Sawada Tsunayoshi.
Hibari had encountered Sawada beforeâit was a common sight to see him being bullied or stumbling through the halls on his own feet. He was a hopeless herbivore and Hibari dismissed him almost immediately. But when he came face-to-face with Sawada, Reborn watching with a thoughtful expression, Hibari saw something he hadnât noticed before.
There was a spark in Sawadaâs brown eyes, a tiny ember of defiance that not even he knew he possessed yet. Hibari paused, regarding the brunette and the baby for a moment, before moving on his way. He knew potential when he saw it. He wanted to see how Sawada would grow.
It was perhaps his mistake that he didnât bite Sawada to death in that moment, but he believed Reborn wouldnât have let him destroy him completely. So maybe it couldnât have been helped, as bitter a taste that left in his mouth.
Hibari watched Rebornâs easy strength, one he wanted to go up against. But the baby held him at a distance, and Hibari knew later that he had unintentionally given him the perfect bait to use against him. If Hibari wanted to fight Reborn, and the other formidable enemies that seemed to now follow Sawada around every corner, he had to participate occasionally in the tasks Reborn arranged.
Hibari was not ignorant. He knew the overwhelming presence the mafia held in Italy. He caught on to what Reborn was trying to do. He resisted, refusing to crowd with such herbivores. He did not fight just anyone because he was told to. He chose his battles. He certainly didnât want anything to do with the annoying group that suddenly surrounded Sawada. But Reborn still gave him the Cloud Ring, and Hibari kept it.
He had tried to get rid of it, once or twice. But in the end, he ultimately couldnât go through with it. He wasnât bored anymore, not with the challenging fights he got to partake in, to watch Sawada grow into his potential. And perhaps, though he would never admit, he felt the magnetic pull of the Cloud Ring, as if he had always been meant to wear it.
Hibari had always been a leader. He was never a follower. He did not follow orders, he gave them. And then Reborn came into the picture, and he got to know the true character of Sawada Tsunayoshi. As the years passed and the battles grew more difficult, Hibari could see that Sawada was no longer a herbivore. He was an omnivore, and eventually he conceded to acknowledge the brunette as his boss. He was praised as being the strongest Guardian, and the others never expected him to follow their orders. They knew who he was, and let him do his own thing (and the more he could irritate Gokudera and Mukuro the better), and in turn he grew content to be step-by-step with them.
With all the herbivores attempting to interfere with their business and break apart his family, he was fine with not being an absolute leader in one aspect of his life.
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