[ He supposes that he's seen that coming for a while, now. And that it's deliberate that he doesn't defend himself. The pain bursts, numbing yet intense, in that side of his face, and it takes all of his focus not to reel from that blow alone.
Yamamoto always does have one hell of a right hook when he sets his mind to it, and he can taste blood, thick and coppery, in his mouth.
How unsavory.
If he's anyone else, he would have been stung by the fact that Yamamoto had raised a hand at him - but he's not. And he knows that he deserves all of this (after all, it's quite logical, when you really thought about it). He looks back at him, again, the back of his hand wiping at his mouth, smearing the blood on his cut lip, and he's defiant, unapologetic.
Because it's necessary, you see - and Hibari cannot bring himself to say it just yet. He's never been a man who explains himself. ]
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Yamamoto always does have one hell of a right hook when he sets his mind to it, and he can taste blood, thick and coppery, in his mouth.
How unsavory.
If he's anyone else, he would have been stung by the fact that Yamamoto had raised a hand at him - but he's not. And he knows that he deserves all of this (after all, it's quite logical, when you really thought about it). He looks back at him, again, the back of his hand wiping at his mouth, smearing the blood on his cut lip, and he's defiant, unapologetic.
Because it's necessary, you see - and Hibari cannot bring himself to say it just yet. He's never been a man who explains himself. ]
You're a little off in that swing.