7.
"Shikari-chan, this would look perfect on you," Kyoya's carnivore of a mother abruptly cooed, appearing out of nowhere, as she held in front of him a pink-vomited yukata. "It goes so well with your skin tone! Aww! You would look so adorable in this, musume."
What?
She paused for a moment as if remembering something then looked at a highly befuddled Kyoya in the eyes firmly. "You need to be on your best behavior, okay? No biting or hitting people. We're going outside the compound to visit the Inuzukas for their heiress' birthday party and-"
"No." He bluntly replied, recovering and connecting the dots after a moment. "I'm not."
"No?" His mother echoed, raising an eyebrow in challenge.
"No," Kyoya repeated, unwavering.
Ever since he was reborn into this new life, Kyoya tolerated a lot of things.
As a carnivore who knew from experience the value of waiting and assessing a situation before making a move, Kyoya was wary and watchful from the start, even with his suspicions on Mukuro's usual shit.
He'd liked to think that he put up admirably enough with the name-change, the honorifics, the crowding, and everything that came in the territory of once-again being an infant, but this...this was where he draws the line.
Kyoya had his pride.
He's not wearing that sorry excuse of a yukata.
Not a chance in hell.
"Why?" His mother put a hand on her hip and eyed him seriously.
"Because it's-" pink. Kyoya faltered. He was blindsided. Unfortunately, as much as he hated to admit it, he didn't think this through. Repeating the color of the yukata with disgust wouldn't be enough of a reason, damn it.
Kyoya blamed the offensively-colored yukata still shoved in front of his face. It's distracting.
"It's..." His mother prompted.
"It's dirty. Hn."
"I just washed this." His mother replied wryly.
He struggled to find a comeback but, thankfully, the convenient scapegoat of all things that happened and would come to be, his father, chose that exact moment to come inside. For a split second, Kyoya registered the muddy and sweaty state of the man before a brilliantly devious thought flashed through his mind.
"Tou-san," He uncharacteristically yelled to the man. "Okaeri."
The man actually stumbled in surprise and, much to Kyoya's delight, crudely brushed by the yukata in his mother's arms - completely dirtying it up in the process.
"It's dirty now," Kyoya announced smugly after double-checking that yes, it's completely unpresentable now and yes, he wouldn't need to wear that pink abomination.
Watching his mother trembling in anger and irritation, Kyoya wisely walked away from the inevitable blow up as inconspicuously as he can - absently reminding himself that he needed to accidentally rip the clothing beyond recovery in case his mother got it into her head to make him wear it next time.
It's better to be safe than sorry, after all.