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[FIC] Reborn!: Mask of Butterfly
THIS IS WHAT I HAVE BEEN SPENDING MY OFF-DAYS AND FREE TIME ON YES
omg Glass Mask is SO FUCKING AWESOME. Have an AU on it with KHR characters.
Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
theburningempty, who wanted 1859, and jusrecht, who is a really terrible enabler. I swear. I have no serious reputation after this. fffff
/facepalm
Mask of Butterfly
Characters: Hibari, Gokudera, Reborn, Dino, others implied
Rating: PG
Words: 2118
Summary: KHR fusion with the old-school shoujo manga Glass Mask, about acting and the theatre. Hibari Kyouya is the protégé of Reborn – the previous Phantom who now holds the rights to perform the play The Phantom Mask – and his rival for the role of the Phantom is Gokudera Hayato. This is one of their performances: M. Butterfly.
Warnings: Despite how serious the summary sounds, this is complete, utter crack.
Five minutes before the curtain rises, Hibari pins Gokudera against the wall and leans in so close that their breaths mix. He smiles, and his voice is sinuous and deadly as he whispers, “You will not win, Gokudera Hayato. This show is mine.”
Gokudera smiles like a room full of knives, all sharp edges and deadly intent. He runs a hand down Hibari’s shoulders, grasping a handful of the colourful embroidered cloth that characterised an actor of the Beijing Opera. Then it moves upwards, trailing the air above Hibari’s heavily made up face.
“We’ll see about that, Butterfly.”
***
“And now, Vongola Theatre presents: M. Butterfly!”
***
First act, first scene:
Hibari’s sleeves flutter across the stage as he dances, his footsteps light as air and just as silent despite the wooden clogs he has on. His eyes are sharp as they scan the audience, drawing all of them in with the sheer power of his gaze. The spotlight does not follow him; only the floodlights are switched on, illuminating the whole stage.
Yet only Hibari stands out, even though his face is obscured by the red-white-pink makeup of Beijing Opera; even though his costume is just as colourful as his fellow actors. His presence draws the audience’s eyes to him lie moths to a flame.
He smirks, and snaps his wrists, closing the fan in his hand. The metal on its tips glint in the light before Hibari snaps it open again, moving into the next dance.
On the edge of the stage, Gokudera’s back is against the audience. He watches, invisible.
***
Gokudera stands, and steps forward. His single footstep echoes on the stage, bouncing against the wall and the audience holds their collective breath. Their eyes flicker from Hibari to Gokudera, taking in the small, pleased smile on his lips and the bright interest in his eyes.
If Hibari captures attention by his gaze alone, Gokudera does it with his entire body. There’s an air of anticipation around him, heavy and expectant.
He bows in front of Hibari, turning away from the audience to take the other man’s hand into his own.
“Madamoiselle,” he says, and his Japanese is thick and French-accented. Perfect for his character. “That was magnificent. May I know your name?”
Hibari moves; a curling of his fingers in Gokudera’s hand. The audience’s attentions snap back to him again, and he smiles, quiet and regal.
“Song Liling,” he says, his voice lilting higher than normal until it is femininized, yet still husky. The character is, after all, still a male. “You can call me Liling, good sir.”
“A beautiful name,” Gokudera drawls out. He turns his head up to look into ‘Liling’s’ eyes, and the smile on his lips is full of affection and love. The slightest tilt of the head, and the audience catches sight of the genuine admiration in his eyes. “I was very impressed by your dancing.”
“Were you, sir?” Hibari murmurs back, each movement subtle and demure like his character should be. But his eyes are still sharp-edged, still so captivating that most of the audience have forgotten to breathe.
“Thank you. I am very glad to hear that.”
Gokudera smiles, and kisses his hand.
“And your name, sir?” Liling asks.
His grip tightens on Hibari’s fingers, and Gokudera takes another step forward.
“Rene. Rene Gallimard.”
***
Act one, scene two:
Hibari’s fingers glide over the strings of the guzheng, plucking at a few of them absentmindedly. Kohl lines his eyes, and rouge dusts his cheeks – the only makeup he has on but he seems the perfect lady nonetheless. Every movement is elegant and gentle; every note plucked with those long fingers is soft and lingering for as long as the string trembles.
(Every move calculated to perfection. He will not lose.)
The sounds of opening doors resound through the theatre, and Liling starts, his fingers jumping on the strings. A loud, obnoxious note runs out for the briefest of moments before he presses his hand against them, biting down on a lip and not saying a word. Yet, Liling’s self-chastisement is easily seen from the set of his shoulders and the tension on his hands.
He lifts his eyes just as Rene steps onto stage.
Rene flops down on a mat, stretching his legs outwards and leaning back on his hands – the very image of a tired businessman coming home to his beloved wife. He grins wide and free at Liling, shaking his shoulders loose as he drops backwards against the floor.
(For the briefest of moments, Gokudera’s eyes meet Hibari’s. The challenge hangs between the both of them, barely veiled.)
“Play a song for me, my dearest,” Rene says, and stretches out his entire body, resting his head on his linked hands.
“Of course, my lord,” Liling says, quiet and demure. His fingers slide across the strings once more before starting to pluck them, playing a simple, quiet song about the Forest of Namimori. Gokudera turns over on his stomach, and listens.
The audience goes unnoticed by the both of them. For both Hibari and Gokudera, only ‘Liling’ and ‘Rene’ exist right now. Yet they lean forward, breathless with anticipation, eager to catch any hint of what might happen next.
“Oh right,” Rene says casually, reaching inside his jacket pocket and retrieving a sheaf of paper. “A present for you, Liling.”
Liling eyes are hooded, and his lips flat when he takes the papers, unfolding his fingers like a lotus flower. Their hands brush; Rene smiles, but Liling does not.
“Thank you,” he murmurs. Then, he turns his eyes up again.
Their gazes meet, and an eternity passed between the two of them. Love and desire shines in Gokudera’s green eyes, from Rene towards Liling, strong and unyielding as the tide. The papers flutter to the floor as Rene lets them go, reaching forward and tangling his fingers together with Liling’s before pulling his lover into his arms.
Liling himself only smiles quietly, and turns away from him. Hibari turns to look at the audience, his impassiveness clear in his eyes. His body is relaxed, arms wrapping around Rene' chest to hold him close.
He hides a small smirk behind his lover’s shoulder.
(Try harder, Gokudera Hayato.)
Gokudera’s lips widens as he leans in, ostensibly to inhale the scent of Hibari’s hair.
(You’re going to lose, Hibari. I guarantee it.)
The curtain falls.
And the audience breathes again, starry-eyed from the intimacy that is clear between them.
***
Act one, scene three:
“You’re going back to France, Monsieur Gallimard. We can’t have you here anymore.”
Rene’s eyes widen, and his cigarette – unlit – fell from his fingers. His other hand clenches by his side. He turns his head away, shoulders stiff, back against the audience.
His despair is a wave that sweeps through the whole theatre.
“Liling...”
***
“What about that Frenchman, eh, Song?”
“Oh, him?” Liling’s lips curve up into a small smile, cruel and sharp. His fingers curl around the cigarette holder, and he takes another deep breath of it.
“There’s nothing more he can give me,” he shrugs, and drops back against the chair. Lifting his legs, he rests them on top of the table, looking as if he is part of the triads rather than the theatre. But his movements are still graceful, still fluid, as if it is part of Liling to be so.
He takes another puff, his head lolling backwards to stare at the ceiling. “Besides, he’s been deported back to France.”
His tone is nonchalant and uncaring, but his eyes do not meet his companion’s. He turns, staring into the space above the audience.
***
“He’s lying.”
“He actually loves him, doesn’t he? You can tell his longing from his eyes. And look at his arm, so tense by his side!”
“Hibari Kyouya... his reputation is well-deserved.”
Beside all the wagging tongues, Dino Cavallone hides a smile behind a long drag of a cigarette.
***
Act two, scene one:
Gokudera sits on a large armchair on the centre of the stage, his feet crossed at the ankles and a cigarette hanging listless between his fingers. He is slumped down, neck loose and head heavy as he drapes over the top of the chair.
Then, slowly, a quiet sigh drags itself out of his lips, and he closes his eyes. Another drag of the cigarette; then he stands up from the chair and starts to pace.
He stops after a few moments, and turns his back to the audience, his face looking towards the back of the stage.
(Gokudera’s eyes gleam beneath hooded lids they meet Hibari’s. A silent challenge, tense and heavy, lies between them for a long moment before Hibari smirks, and disappears behind the red velvet. Resisting a scowl, Gokudera closes his eyes.)
“Liling...” Rene sighs out the name. “When can I see you again?”
He stares out into space, a bitter, longing smile on his lips. His back is too straight, his shoulders too set, his hands clenched too tightly by his sides, and his head tilted upwards as if in prayer.
“I miss you, my dearest Butterfly. Come back to me soon.”
***
Act two, scene three:
“Your wife? But, monsieur-“
“Shut up!” Rene sweeps a hand outwards, fist clenched at his side. His brows are creased, lips pressed flat and white like paper, and his shoulders are shaking. “Give her back to me! She’s probably terrified right now!”
“Sir-“
Rene takes a step forward. Sweat beads on his brow from exertion, and his breathing is shallow and rapid, his face red and eyes flaming. He is the perfect picture of an angry husband protecting his wife. “This is my fault! I made the choice to help her. She has nothing to do with this. Why are you-“
“Be quiet, you idiot,” a man steps into stage, dressed in a black suit. His dark hair is slicked back, and his eyes are sharp and piercing.
(Outside of this world, the stage explodes into excited whispers.
Reborn, Reborn, Reborn, how long has it been since your last appearance on stage?)
“This is the one you call your wife, huh?” he pulls Liling forward by the wrist. Liling scowls dark and furious, face suddenly twisted into an ugly anger. Reborn barks out a laugh, and turns to him.
“Strip.”
“What are you trying to-” Rene makes to protest, taking a step forward and almost pulling Hibari over into his arms. Liling presses a hand against his chest and pushes him away.
“Be quiet and watch, my lord,” Liling says, his voice mocking, head tilted back and smiling a vicious little smirk. The scowl from the previous moment has completely disappeared.
He unties his front tie, and opens the robes. His smirk widens. He turns away from the audience, shoulders tense and back too straight. Rene faces him directly. Slowly, gently, regally, he lets the robe fall down his shoulders, his chest, his hips, to pool on his feet.
Rene’s cigarette drops to the floor. Thud.
His legs fold; he crashes to the ground.
Silence.
“You are-“ he takes a long, shuddering breath, and his last word comes out as a choked gasp.
“No.”
***
Act three, scene one:
Liling turns around and taps his cigarette holder against the ashtray. He brings it to his lips, and takes a long drag; the very image of casual relaxation. His fingers tremble a little, and he refuses to even look towards the cage standing right beside him. Then- he turns.
The spotlight catches the light from the dagger in Rene’s hand. He drives it into his own stomach, and pulls it down. He gasps, mouth opening and lurching forward, gritting his teeth and grimacing in pain. His other hand claws at the ground, clenching and unclenching, scraping his nails and knuckles raw.
Liling watches it all impassively, and takes another puff of his cigarette.
Rene breathes out one last time before falling to his side. The pool of blood around him grows larger and larger. Liling does not move. He makes to take another drag, but his hand spasms slightly as he tries to bring the holder to his mouth.
Metal clinks against the wooden floorboards of the stage. Liling closes his eyes.
A single tear falls.
***
Curtain.
The audience takes one long moment to catch their collective breaths. Then-
Applause and cheers roars out so loudly that it shakes the wall and threatens to bring the house down.
***
Backstage:
“This isn’t over, Hibari,” Gokudera spits out, stopping in his tracks as he glares at him. His hands are fists at his side; the audience, critics and all, had cheered louder for Hibari than they had for him. It is clear who is the winner of this round.
Hibari stops in his tracks, and turns back to look at him. His smile is triumphant. “Try as hard as you want, Gokudera Hayato.
“You won’t win.”
I won’t let you.
Gokudera’s returning smile is hard and ugly, twisting his lips to something that resembles a sneer. “As if you can. Just wait, Hibari.
“The Phantom is mine.”
Stopping again, Hibari shrugs, smooth and uncaring. His smirk is cold, and triumphant, “Only in your dreams.”
Behind them, hidden by the red velvet curtains of the stage, Reborn smiles to himself.
End
The play used here is real: M. Butterfly
omg Glass Mask is SO FUCKING AWESOME. Have an AU on it with KHR characters.
Written for
theburningempty, who wanted 1859, and jusrecht, who is a really terrible enabler. I swear. I have no serious reputation after this. fffff/facepalm
Mask of Butterfly
Characters: Hibari, Gokudera, Reborn, Dino, others implied
Rating: PG
Words: 2118
Summary: KHR fusion with the old-school shoujo manga Glass Mask, about acting and the theatre. Hibari Kyouya is the protégé of Reborn – the previous Phantom who now holds the rights to perform the play The Phantom Mask – and his rival for the role of the Phantom is Gokudera Hayato. This is one of their performances: M. Butterfly.
Warnings: Despite how serious the summary sounds, this is complete, utter crack.
Five minutes before the curtain rises, Hibari pins Gokudera against the wall and leans in so close that their breaths mix. He smiles, and his voice is sinuous and deadly as he whispers, “You will not win, Gokudera Hayato. This show is mine.”
Gokudera smiles like a room full of knives, all sharp edges and deadly intent. He runs a hand down Hibari’s shoulders, grasping a handful of the colourful embroidered cloth that characterised an actor of the Beijing Opera. Then it moves upwards, trailing the air above Hibari’s heavily made up face.
“We’ll see about that, Butterfly.”
***
“And now, Vongola Theatre presents: M. Butterfly!”
***
First act, first scene:
Hibari’s sleeves flutter across the stage as he dances, his footsteps light as air and just as silent despite the wooden clogs he has on. His eyes are sharp as they scan the audience, drawing all of them in with the sheer power of his gaze. The spotlight does not follow him; only the floodlights are switched on, illuminating the whole stage.
Yet only Hibari stands out, even though his face is obscured by the red-white-pink makeup of Beijing Opera; even though his costume is just as colourful as his fellow actors. His presence draws the audience’s eyes to him lie moths to a flame.
He smirks, and snaps his wrists, closing the fan in his hand. The metal on its tips glint in the light before Hibari snaps it open again, moving into the next dance.
On the edge of the stage, Gokudera’s back is against the audience. He watches, invisible.
***
Gokudera stands, and steps forward. His single footstep echoes on the stage, bouncing against the wall and the audience holds their collective breath. Their eyes flicker from Hibari to Gokudera, taking in the small, pleased smile on his lips and the bright interest in his eyes.
If Hibari captures attention by his gaze alone, Gokudera does it with his entire body. There’s an air of anticipation around him, heavy and expectant.
He bows in front of Hibari, turning away from the audience to take the other man’s hand into his own.
“Madamoiselle,” he says, and his Japanese is thick and French-accented. Perfect for his character. “That was magnificent. May I know your name?”
Hibari moves; a curling of his fingers in Gokudera’s hand. The audience’s attentions snap back to him again, and he smiles, quiet and regal.
“Song Liling,” he says, his voice lilting higher than normal until it is femininized, yet still husky. The character is, after all, still a male. “You can call me Liling, good sir.”
“A beautiful name,” Gokudera drawls out. He turns his head up to look into ‘Liling’s’ eyes, and the smile on his lips is full of affection and love. The slightest tilt of the head, and the audience catches sight of the genuine admiration in his eyes. “I was very impressed by your dancing.”
“Were you, sir?” Hibari murmurs back, each movement subtle and demure like his character should be. But his eyes are still sharp-edged, still so captivating that most of the audience have forgotten to breathe.
“Thank you. I am very glad to hear that.”
Gokudera smiles, and kisses his hand.
“And your name, sir?” Liling asks.
His grip tightens on Hibari’s fingers, and Gokudera takes another step forward.
“Rene. Rene Gallimard.”
***
Act one, scene two:
Hibari’s fingers glide over the strings of the guzheng, plucking at a few of them absentmindedly. Kohl lines his eyes, and rouge dusts his cheeks – the only makeup he has on but he seems the perfect lady nonetheless. Every movement is elegant and gentle; every note plucked with those long fingers is soft and lingering for as long as the string trembles.
(Every move calculated to perfection. He will not lose.)
The sounds of opening doors resound through the theatre, and Liling starts, his fingers jumping on the strings. A loud, obnoxious note runs out for the briefest of moments before he presses his hand against them, biting down on a lip and not saying a word. Yet, Liling’s self-chastisement is easily seen from the set of his shoulders and the tension on his hands.
He lifts his eyes just as Rene steps onto stage.
Rene flops down on a mat, stretching his legs outwards and leaning back on his hands – the very image of a tired businessman coming home to his beloved wife. He grins wide and free at Liling, shaking his shoulders loose as he drops backwards against the floor.
(For the briefest of moments, Gokudera’s eyes meet Hibari’s. The challenge hangs between the both of them, barely veiled.)
“Play a song for me, my dearest,” Rene says, and stretches out his entire body, resting his head on his linked hands.
“Of course, my lord,” Liling says, quiet and demure. His fingers slide across the strings once more before starting to pluck them, playing a simple, quiet song about the Forest of Namimori. Gokudera turns over on his stomach, and listens.
The audience goes unnoticed by the both of them. For both Hibari and Gokudera, only ‘Liling’ and ‘Rene’ exist right now. Yet they lean forward, breathless with anticipation, eager to catch any hint of what might happen next.
“Oh right,” Rene says casually, reaching inside his jacket pocket and retrieving a sheaf of paper. “A present for you, Liling.”
Liling eyes are hooded, and his lips flat when he takes the papers, unfolding his fingers like a lotus flower. Their hands brush; Rene smiles, but Liling does not.
“Thank you,” he murmurs. Then, he turns his eyes up again.
Their gazes meet, and an eternity passed between the two of them. Love and desire shines in Gokudera’s green eyes, from Rene towards Liling, strong and unyielding as the tide. The papers flutter to the floor as Rene lets them go, reaching forward and tangling his fingers together with Liling’s before pulling his lover into his arms.
Liling himself only smiles quietly, and turns away from him. Hibari turns to look at the audience, his impassiveness clear in his eyes. His body is relaxed, arms wrapping around Rene' chest to hold him close.
He hides a small smirk behind his lover’s shoulder.
(Try harder, Gokudera Hayato.)
Gokudera’s lips widens as he leans in, ostensibly to inhale the scent of Hibari’s hair.
(You’re going to lose, Hibari. I guarantee it.)
The curtain falls.
And the audience breathes again, starry-eyed from the intimacy that is clear between them.
***
Act one, scene three:
“You’re going back to France, Monsieur Gallimard. We can’t have you here anymore.”
Rene’s eyes widen, and his cigarette – unlit – fell from his fingers. His other hand clenches by his side. He turns his head away, shoulders stiff, back against the audience.
His despair is a wave that sweeps through the whole theatre.
“Liling...”
***
“What about that Frenchman, eh, Song?”
“Oh, him?” Liling’s lips curve up into a small smile, cruel and sharp. His fingers curl around the cigarette holder, and he takes another deep breath of it.
“There’s nothing more he can give me,” he shrugs, and drops back against the chair. Lifting his legs, he rests them on top of the table, looking as if he is part of the triads rather than the theatre. But his movements are still graceful, still fluid, as if it is part of Liling to be so.
He takes another puff, his head lolling backwards to stare at the ceiling. “Besides, he’s been deported back to France.”
His tone is nonchalant and uncaring, but his eyes do not meet his companion’s. He turns, staring into the space above the audience.
***
“He’s lying.”
“He actually loves him, doesn’t he? You can tell his longing from his eyes. And look at his arm, so tense by his side!”
“Hibari Kyouya... his reputation is well-deserved.”
Beside all the wagging tongues, Dino Cavallone hides a smile behind a long drag of a cigarette.
***
Act two, scene one:
Gokudera sits on a large armchair on the centre of the stage, his feet crossed at the ankles and a cigarette hanging listless between his fingers. He is slumped down, neck loose and head heavy as he drapes over the top of the chair.
Then, slowly, a quiet sigh drags itself out of his lips, and he closes his eyes. Another drag of the cigarette; then he stands up from the chair and starts to pace.
He stops after a few moments, and turns his back to the audience, his face looking towards the back of the stage.
(Gokudera’s eyes gleam beneath hooded lids they meet Hibari’s. A silent challenge, tense and heavy, lies between them for a long moment before Hibari smirks, and disappears behind the red velvet. Resisting a scowl, Gokudera closes his eyes.)
“Liling...” Rene sighs out the name. “When can I see you again?”
He stares out into space, a bitter, longing smile on his lips. His back is too straight, his shoulders too set, his hands clenched too tightly by his sides, and his head tilted upwards as if in prayer.
“I miss you, my dearest Butterfly. Come back to me soon.”
***
Act two, scene three:
“Your wife? But, monsieur-“
“Shut up!” Rene sweeps a hand outwards, fist clenched at his side. His brows are creased, lips pressed flat and white like paper, and his shoulders are shaking. “Give her back to me! She’s probably terrified right now!”
“Sir-“
Rene takes a step forward. Sweat beads on his brow from exertion, and his breathing is shallow and rapid, his face red and eyes flaming. He is the perfect picture of an angry husband protecting his wife. “This is my fault! I made the choice to help her. She has nothing to do with this. Why are you-“
“Be quiet, you idiot,” a man steps into stage, dressed in a black suit. His dark hair is slicked back, and his eyes are sharp and piercing.
(Outside of this world, the stage explodes into excited whispers.
Reborn, Reborn, Reborn, how long has it been since your last appearance on stage?)
“This is the one you call your wife, huh?” he pulls Liling forward by the wrist. Liling scowls dark and furious, face suddenly twisted into an ugly anger. Reborn barks out a laugh, and turns to him.
“Strip.”
“What are you trying to-” Rene makes to protest, taking a step forward and almost pulling Hibari over into his arms. Liling presses a hand against his chest and pushes him away.
“Be quiet and watch, my lord,” Liling says, his voice mocking, head tilted back and smiling a vicious little smirk. The scowl from the previous moment has completely disappeared.
He unties his front tie, and opens the robes. His smirk widens. He turns away from the audience, shoulders tense and back too straight. Rene faces him directly. Slowly, gently, regally, he lets the robe fall down his shoulders, his chest, his hips, to pool on his feet.
Rene’s cigarette drops to the floor. Thud.
His legs fold; he crashes to the ground.
Silence.
“You are-“ he takes a long, shuddering breath, and his last word comes out as a choked gasp.
“No.”
***
Act three, scene one:
Liling turns around and taps his cigarette holder against the ashtray. He brings it to his lips, and takes a long drag; the very image of casual relaxation. His fingers tremble a little, and he refuses to even look towards the cage standing right beside him. Then- he turns.
The spotlight catches the light from the dagger in Rene’s hand. He drives it into his own stomach, and pulls it down. He gasps, mouth opening and lurching forward, gritting his teeth and grimacing in pain. His other hand claws at the ground, clenching and unclenching, scraping his nails and knuckles raw.
Liling watches it all impassively, and takes another puff of his cigarette.
Rene breathes out one last time before falling to his side. The pool of blood around him grows larger and larger. Liling does not move. He makes to take another drag, but his hand spasms slightly as he tries to bring the holder to his mouth.
Metal clinks against the wooden floorboards of the stage. Liling closes his eyes.
A single tear falls.
***
Curtain.
The audience takes one long moment to catch their collective breaths. Then-
Applause and cheers roars out so loudly that it shakes the wall and threatens to bring the house down.
***
Backstage:
“This isn’t over, Hibari,” Gokudera spits out, stopping in his tracks as he glares at him. His hands are fists at his side; the audience, critics and all, had cheered louder for Hibari than they had for him. It is clear who is the winner of this round.
Hibari stops in his tracks, and turns back to look at him. His smile is triumphant. “Try as hard as you want, Gokudera Hayato.
“You won’t win.”
I won’t let you.
Gokudera’s returning smile is hard and ugly, twisting his lips to something that resembles a sneer. “As if you can. Just wait, Hibari.
“The Phantom is mine.”
Stopping again, Hibari shrugs, smooth and uncaring. His smirk is cold, and triumphant, “Only in your dreams.”
Behind them, hidden by the red velvet curtains of the stage, Reborn smiles to himself.
End
The play used here is real: M. Butterfly