All cultures have their different ways of dealing with soul bonds. Different emphasis on different ages, on different methods. Fortune telling is always popular, for those who just can't wait for their child to even be born, and others delve straight into science once the methods are there.
In Japan, it's age six. The ideal age for finding out the type of soul bond and, maybe, even discovering the partners on the other end.
Predictably, Kyoya doesn't want to deal with it.
No one in his family is particularly surprised at this fact. A precocious child with a stubborn streak longer than a city, he's fully prepared to stand his ground on this. Even when Tetsuya is called to quell some of his fury, listening with obedient nods as Kyoya talks sharply about too many people and strange adults talking to him, it's not enough to make him agreeable. Eventually, his caretakers fall to their last resort:
They speak to his mother.
Kyoya will stand up to a lot of people, having taken down even middle schoolers armed with nothing but spite and a baseball bat nearly as tall as him, but his mother? Never. Hibari Lan is folded steel hidden in soft colored kimono sleeves, and he's been raised to respect her. That doesn't mean he has to like it when she stares him down, her silver eyes cutting his obstinacy down to the root, and he settles down with a sulk. At least Tetsuya is permitted to come along with, a reassuring base of things that doesn't talk a lot at all. Still. Kyoya frowns all the way to the office of the professional his mother has chosen. Such a thing is something his family can afford instead of puzzling on his bond alone, and supposedly more reliable.
Doctor Umezawa has a nice reputation, or so the driver assures his mother as they make their way to Tokyo instead of small town Namimori. Very well researched, very well spoken of. In the backseat, Kyoya kicks his feet and scowls harder. None of that is something he cares about, not when there's too many people outside the car windows and too many people in the building he's escorted into. At least the waiting room is a little better and a lot emptier, and he waits restlessly while Tetsuya does his best to keep him preoccupied with nature magazines left around. Soon, they're called into the office, and what little had been assuaged of his annoyance is back in full force when Tetsuya is held back to wait for them outside.
Funnily enough, despite it about being his soul bond, Kyoya himself isn't talked to for some time. Instead, Doctor Umezawa talks to his mother some time about her bonds (color blindness until she met her now husband) and then Kyoya's father's (one of his many tattoos springing to life). The questions seem to go on, and on, and soon enough Kyoya lapses into boredom with only the presence of his mother keeping him from kicking his feet. It's almost a relief when the doctor finally turns to him. Pointing out what colors are on pieces of paper he's shown isn't much to do, but it's better than nothing.
When his eyesight is checked out as perfectly fine, he's escorted to another room and nearly takes off an aide's hand when he tries to undress him. He's a big kid and he doesn't need some random weakling touching him like that. From then on, he's allowed to take off his clothes himself, and his mother convinces him to have the doctor look over him carefully. Every inch of skin is investigated, from the soles of his feet to even carefully going through his scalp. The result: not a trace of words or a name. As he's allowed to dress again, his eavesdrops on what the doctor is telling his mother.
"I could find no evidence of a soul bond mark on his skin. While that does eliminate the majority of soul bonds, Hibari-san, there are still some of which there are no proper tests to locate them. It is possible that his partner holds a part of his soul's song, of which he will hear when he meets them. Other times, scent plays an important factor. We also cannot discredit the possibility that his soulmate simply has not been born yet. Soulmates separated by gaps in time have been studied for centuries, with their corresponding mark appearing on their partner's skin years after that partner has been born. In that case, I would recommend looking over Kyoya-san bi-yearly for the appearance of any new marks..."
Doctor Umezawa doesn't mention another possibility, but Kyoya can see it in the way his mother frowns to herself once they're hidden away in the car again. What if he's one of those who doesn't have a soulmate at all? That won't do at all. Hibari-kai needs to continue its lineage, or so Kyoya has been told.
Greedily, he keeps to himself that he'd be perfectly happy for no soulmate. At six, he has seen all manner of adults and everyone in his grade level, and none of them are good enough.
1
In Japan, it's age six. The ideal age for finding out the type of soul bond and, maybe, even discovering the partners on the other end.
Predictably, Kyoya doesn't want to deal with it.
No one in his family is particularly surprised at this fact. A precocious child with a stubborn streak longer than a city, he's fully prepared to stand his ground on this. Even when Tetsuya is called to quell some of his fury, listening with obedient nods as Kyoya talks sharply about too many people and strange adults talking to him, it's not enough to make him agreeable. Eventually, his caretakers fall to their last resort:
They speak to his mother.
Kyoya will stand up to a lot of people, having taken down even middle schoolers armed with nothing but spite and a baseball bat nearly as tall as him, but his mother? Never. Hibari Lan is folded steel hidden in soft colored kimono sleeves, and he's been raised to respect her. That doesn't mean he has to like it when she stares him down, her silver eyes cutting his obstinacy down to the root, and he settles down with a sulk. At least Tetsuya is permitted to come along with, a reassuring base of things that doesn't talk a lot at all. Still. Kyoya frowns all the way to the office of the professional his mother has chosen. Such a thing is something his family can afford instead of puzzling on his bond alone, and supposedly more reliable.
Doctor Umezawa has a nice reputation, or so the driver assures his mother as they make their way to Tokyo instead of small town Namimori. Very well researched, very well spoken of. In the backseat, Kyoya kicks his feet and scowls harder. None of that is something he cares about, not when there's too many people outside the car windows and too many people in the building he's escorted into. At least the waiting room is a little better and a lot emptier, and he waits restlessly while Tetsuya does his best to keep him preoccupied with nature magazines left around. Soon, they're called into the office, and what little had been assuaged of his annoyance is back in full force when Tetsuya is held back to wait for them outside.
Funnily enough, despite it about being his soul bond, Kyoya himself isn't talked to for some time. Instead, Doctor Umezawa talks to his mother some time about her bonds (color blindness until she met her now husband) and then Kyoya's father's (one of his many tattoos springing to life). The questions seem to go on, and on, and soon enough Kyoya lapses into boredom with only the presence of his mother keeping him from kicking his feet. It's almost a relief when the doctor finally turns to him. Pointing out what colors are on pieces of paper he's shown isn't much to do, but it's better than nothing.
When his eyesight is checked out as perfectly fine, he's escorted to another room and nearly takes off an aide's hand when he tries to undress him. He's a big kid and he doesn't need some random weakling touching him like that. From then on, he's allowed to take off his clothes himself, and his mother convinces him to have the doctor look over him carefully. Every inch of skin is investigated, from the soles of his feet to even carefully going through his scalp. The result: not a trace of words or a name. As he's allowed to dress again, his eavesdrops on what the doctor is telling his mother.
"I could find no evidence of a soul bond mark on his skin. While that does eliminate the majority of soul bonds, Hibari-san, there are still some of which there are no proper tests to locate them. It is possible that his partner holds a part of his soul's song, of which he will hear when he meets them. Other times, scent plays an important factor. We also cannot discredit the possibility that his soulmate simply has not been born yet. Soulmates separated by gaps in time have been studied for centuries, with their corresponding mark appearing on their partner's skin years after that partner has been born. In that case, I would recommend looking over Kyoya-san bi-yearly for the appearance of any new marks..."
Doctor Umezawa doesn't mention another possibility, but Kyoya can see it in the way his mother frowns to herself once they're hidden away in the car again. What if he's one of those who doesn't have a soulmate at all? That won't do at all. Hibari-kai needs to continue its lineage, or so Kyoya has been told.
Greedily, he keeps to himself that he'd be perfectly happy for no soulmate. At six, he has seen all manner of adults and everyone in his grade level, and none of them are good enough.
He hopes he never has to deal with a soulmate.