Me? Make poor life choices at quarter to 3 in the morning because my self control went to bed at midnight? Nah. Nah. It'll be fine.
01—Straw Flower
"You're getting better at this."
He watched carefully as the wheels of the old skateboard rolled against the concrete ground of the gazebo. It'd been a long time since he'd taken care of it, but its new owner had been paying close attention to its needs.
Bare feet wobbled on the board as the wind pushed at her skirt. She threw her arms out for balance, the board now hobbling in his direction.
"You think so?" she asked hopefully. She looked up to him for approval, a nervous smile on her face.
He nodded. "Definitely. Give it another year and you might be a pro."
A giggle—one of his favourite sounds to hear from her. "If you say so."
It felt like forever since the two of them had been able to catch up like this. No work, no concerns, no sudden emergencies. Just a brother and sister spending time together and actually enjoying themselves without worrying about being dragged back home. They'd met like this dozens of times, maybe a little less, but he couldn't help thinking about all the times he'd worried that something would go wrong. That something would just pop up and ruin their afternoons.
But, he reminded himself every time he neared the old house, they'd given the brother and sister their word. And if there was one thing Killua knew about the Zoldyck family, it was that they never went back on their word. As much as he knew it'd pained Illumi these past few years, not having Killua around to continue the family business, he knew for a fact that he and Alluka were safe—were free. They were free to enjoy new homes, free to rebuild a gazebo in Alluka's new backyard, free to talk about each other's day without interruption.
As frequently as they did this, it still felt too good to be true. She was happy and slowly becoming close with the neighbours. She was out and about with no butlers or older brothers watching her every move like predators. Both her and Nanika.
Alluka managed one more wobbly lap around the gazebo before she lightly stepped away from the skateboard. She'd only just recently brought up learning how to ride one when Killua mentioned cleaning out his spare room last week, and it was no surprise by now that half of his junk had become her own personal treasure. Alluka had only owned the board for a week now, but already her own personal touches had been made to it: The small skull stickers, the neon-yellow wheels she'd replaced the scuffed, worn down blue ones with. She picked it up and carried it over to where Killua sat, and then she rested it on her lap as she made herself comfy on the cushions covering the bench.
She barely wasted any time jumping to a new topic of conversation, leaving Killua to watch her as she grinned at every piece of news she had to share.
"I saw this nice little puppet collection on the way to school this week," she told him. "The strings were all broken and the wood was chipped on some of them, but I think I can salvage the porcelain ones!"
Killua hummed at her. She always found ways to pick up old junk and tinker with them, make them new again. Alluka had even told him the first time he'd asked about it that the tinkering was a hobby of both her's and Nanika's. "Need money to pay for them?" he checked.
Alluka shook her head. "The owner said that he doesn't expect money for them because they're in such bad shape. I think he was going to scrap them, the poor things!"
"Have you even finished restoring that old vanity table yet?" He couldn't help smirking at her, at her eagerness to start new projects in the middle of old ones. Alluka hadn't always wanted to jump from one thing to another, but nowadays it was hard even for Killua to keep up with her projects. As much as she loved taking in broken things and making them pretty again, there was only so much she and Nanika could handle at a time.
Alluka pouted and held the skateboard close to her chest. He took it as a definite, No. "We're getting there!" she huffed. "Nanika just has to pick the paint we use."
"Nanika probably just wants to make sure it's good enough," he reasoned. Alluka simply deepened her pout, standing firm on her idea of taking in the dolls as her own project.
There was a firm hum against his leg—a vibration?—that startled Killua out of their conversation. He jumped to his feet and shoved a hand into his pockets, finding the source of the buzzing. It took a while for the name on the screen to register, mostly because of how long it'd been since he'd last spoken—both over the phone and in person—with the caller.
Alluka got the message almost immediately when he said to himself, "Kurapika?"
"I should get inside and finish my assignments, anyway," she said sweetly. Alluka tucked the skateboard under her arm and winked at Killua, almost playful. "Try not to have too much fun with whatever he needs you to do."
"Mafia troubles? Too much fun?" Killua rolled his eyes, equally playful. "You can trust me to be serious about it."
As soon as she shut the door behind her, Killua brought the phone to his ear and said smugly, "This is out of character. Finally get a break?"
Kurapika didn't seem to take much amusement in the greeting. If anything, the dejected sigh he let out suggested he was twice as stressed as usual. Killua started walking to the gate.
"Interesting things are happening," Kurapika sighed. He always used that euphemism whenever something popped up. By this point, "interesting" to Killua had become synonymous with "concerning". He kicked the gate shut behind him—waved to Alluka through the living room window—before settling into the noise of the street and the crowds of pedestrians. "Your name keeps popping up for some reason."
"Not surprising." Killua weaved past a group of suited men, going almost completely unnoticed. "I'm a Contract Hunter. People look for them."
"You're a Contract Hunter no one can find. Even Leorio is getting phone calls asking where to find you, what you'll accept for work."
"If they can't do the work…" He ran into the traffic, narrowly missing a taxi as its horn blared angrily after him. There was a shortcut that Killua liked to take just across from Alluka's house. It also doubled as a great getaway route in theory; though how well it'd work in practice had yet to be seen.
"Killua," Kurapika sighed tiredly. Killua climbed effortlessly onto the garbage disposal, somersaulted gracefully over the eight foot fence. "He's working on his medical degree. How is he supposed to stay sane until it's over when he's getting calls at all hours of the day, interrupting his classes?"
"He's put up with worse." Probably not a lot of things, but losing class time and sleep wouldn't rank very high on Leorio's "Universal Shit List".
A tsk sounded from Kurapika, almost leaving a crackling sound in Killua's ear. "That's not the issue."
"Well, has it bothered you at least?" Killua pointed out. "You're not exactly complaining on your own behalf, here."
He turned right into the thin gap between two houses. The low bathroom window of one house had its blinds opened, the usual sight of a middle-aged woman plucking her brows presented for him to witness. The woman merely waved at him—he thought her name was Susie, from the things he's heard other people yell through her door—and continued on with plucking her brows. He was almost tempted to set aside a time to ask her what kind of products she uses, because her hair was simply gorgeous and her nails gave off the same shine as well-polished marble.
Kurapika paused, almost as though hesitating, before he finally answered Killua's question. "You know what? It has. Looking after Neon, hunting down the last pair of eyes, not to mention leading this mafia; pretty hard to juggle with some 'Primera Elise' asking about you."
"Her name sounds super snobby."
"Who cares if—" He cut himself off with a growl. "Look. I'm sending you her number, and you're going to call her. End of discussion."
Killua groaned. Kurapika hissed at him. "Not a word about how she isn't 'doing the work'. For crying out loud…"
"Whatever, whatever." As he passed the first of many stands leading out into another massive street, he switched the phone to his other ear. Killua looked both ways before crossing the street this time, actually jogging to avoid getting honked at again. "Message it to me and I'll see what I can do. She probably just wants me to mow her acre-wide lawn."
"Call. Her." And he hung up.
Killua couldn't help puffing out his cheeks in defiance. It wasn't his fault he had a standard for what he considered a worthwhile job. Every Hunter had their preferred jobs, and Killua was no different. What part of that was so hard for Kurapika, head of a mafia, to understand?
His phone buzzed with a message from Kurapika, Primera Elise's phone number and email all there was to be seen. Killua glanced up at the street for just a second, guesstimating how long it'd take to reach his apartment from here by foot, and when he looked back down there was a new message: Today, Killua.
Killua could actually hear the disapproval and exhaustion in just those two words. Kurapika really had a talent for making his more negative emotions clear through text. It really didn't match his cool, calm and serious talking voice, Killua thought with a snort.
One of the perks of visiting Alluka was that he never had to venture far to find her. She was independant now, for sure, but Killua was still close enough to come to her aid if she or Nanika were ever in trouble. She was his little sister, precious and powerful, and he didn't think he could just leave her entirely on her own—not again, at least. Alluka never seemed to mind, especially since Killua lived on the same block as a cafe she liked to go to whenever she visited.
As soon as the though passed him, Killua crossed over to the corner the cafe was located on. Second floor, just above the art supply shop. There was never a time the balconies were free of patrons, rain or shine, and today was no exception. At a glance he could see some of their orders: Mudcake, cherry pie, tarts with fat dollops of meringue on top. Another perk of visiting Alluka, he thought as he veered over to the stairs leading to the building's second floor, was the excuse to get something from this place every single time. If there was anything about Killua that could be considered habit, it was the need to always take a whole tart or pie home with him after a walk through the city.
The server barely even missed a beat when he ordered a biggest, freshest key lime pie they had on display. He was such a regular, such a connoisseur of their desserts, that the cashiers almost expected Killua to make an appearance every day. It was the addition of comparatively healthy Caesar salad wrap that threw off the young man serving him, who went so far as to blurt out, "Are you sure?"
Killua was absolutely certain he wanted to buy one. He'd never hear the end of it if he didn't.
Just five minutes down the street was his apartment, four storeys tall and considered modern next to the other complexes built either side of it. It made the building stick out like a sore thumb, but Killua found the sleek design gave the complex a bit of character. It was also more his speed compared to plain brownstone.
As expected at this time of day, the third door on the third floor was unlocked. Muffled chatter came from the other side, two distinct voices Killua's grown used to hearing day by day, and the conversation barely halted as he juggled the bag with the food and attempted to open the door.
He'd only known Trill and Ronan for little over a year, but the way they treated him made it feel like longer. Like a second—third, if he counted Gon, Kurapika and Leorio?—family. Trill was the first to greet him as he kicked the door shut behind him; she'd positioned herself at the kitchen counter, still in her pyjamas while she brewed a coffee for the prone form at the tiny table a few feet away. Trill had seemed to haphazardly brushed her curls out of her face, all over to one side rather than carefully style it just yet. Half of her undercut was swallowed up by the brown locks. She grinned, giving Killua a little salute.
"How's Alluka?" she said in favour of a greeting. It was only natural, he figured—Trill really look a liking to his sister when they'd happened to run into each other at the cafe.
"Keeping herself busy," Killua reported. He jogged over to the kitchen counter and set down the paper bag their food was in. Rooming with two other people almost made it mandatory for him to share his goodies. Not always, though. "Getting better at skating, too."
Trill gushed at the news. She let out a small squeal as she skipped over to the table, coffee somehow staying inside its mug the whole time. She set it down in front of Ronan's head. He received a loving smack to the neck, and the loud snort he let out was proof enough of how much he needed that caffeine.
"Alright, time for the goods." Trill skipped back over to Killua's side and peeked over his shoulder. "What'd you get us?"
He pulled the Caesar wrap out and said flatly, "Something plain for the disaster."
"Ronan! Food!"
Ronan just let out a groan, running a hand down his face as he tried to fight back countless yawns. His piercings were missing, probably to keep from yanking at them and giving his nose and eyebrows an annoying ache so early in the day.
"As for us," Killua went on, this time letting his excitement show. He dipped both hands into the bag and pulled out the dessert box with a flourish. Trill rubbed her hands together with a grin. "Key lime pie."
She pounced him, cheering at his choice of snack. Killua barely stumbled as he supported her weight during the hug, and he wasted no time reaching for a knife to cut them some slices. Trill had a sweet tooth to rival most normal people, similar to Killua, but she still wasn't as capable as him when it came to stomaching a large amount. Killua cut one third of the pie for her, waited as she climbed off him and scrambled for a plate, and then dropped the slice delicately beside the fork she'd pulled out to eat it with.
Trill took the pie and the wrap to the table. Ronan accepted his food from her with a scowl, but made no comment on his roommates' choice of sustenance. Killua smirked as he cut off a large chunk of pie with his fork. Ronan was learning.
"Wraps aren't plain," he argued instead. Never mind Killua's descriptor of him.
Trill sat down across from him and threw a sympathetic smile his way. "Babe, they're plain," she said.
"You're gonna side with the guy whose room is eighty percent chocorobo boxes?" Ronan scowled at Trill as she nodded, already digging into the pie. Try as he may, Ronan wasn't going to successfully reason with Trill's sugar-driven mindset.
Ronan pulled at the plastic wrap and inspected his food. Killua just watched as the man finally let a yawn slip, curiosity getting the better of him.
"Long night?" Killua asked around a bite. Ronan grunted, practically shoving half the wrap in his mouth.
"Some asshole thought it'd be funny to undo all my work for some stuffy company—I don't care to remember the name right now," he added loudly, just as Killua and Trill prepared to scold him. "And while all that was going on, I kept getting messages from some other bigwig looking for you."
Ronan bit another large chunk out of his wrap as he glared at Killua. Killua just shrugged innocently.
"Then I find out this morning that my girlfriend is being bothered by the same person," he went on, "so stop being a hardass and give her some peace at least."
Killua glanced at Trill quickly. She didn't look too bothered. "Which one?"
"Nish," both of them groaned. Trill didn't waste time taking over the conversation, which saved Killua a lecture and Ronan a meltdown. She was a great mediator.
"I know you have standards, but can we just rule the fact that this person connected Nish to you through us as a good enough reason to contact them?" She shrugged and poked at the spiral of cream she'd scooped off of the pie. "I know you don't mind if your friends have to put up with it, since they're Hunters too, but Ro and I want Nish to take it as easy as she can."
As much as Killua wanted to remain staunch in his decision and let Primera Elise chase after him a little more, Trill did have a point. Nish and Killua weren't connected unless someone factored in her significant others, and even then it was a hard guess that they'd find Killua on top of their own work. Kurapika calling was a rarity, and when Killua was busy, he made it very clear he was too busy. Trill almost tore apart the city when Killua had had to leave on short notice for a week, maintaining complete radio silence all the while. Primera must've been desperate if she'd sought out Nish—and, by proxy, Ronan and Trill.
He pouted and shoved a large amount of the pie in his mouth. He hated it when he got proven wrong. Who knew if Leorio would let him live it down once he found out he accepted the call?
"Alright," he conceded. Ronan let out a relieved breath, a mutter of thanks to Trill under his breath. "I got sent her details today, actually. I'll give her a call."
"Before you do," Ronan said, "brush up a little on who she is. If you've got a name, you're bound to get information."
"Nah." Killua reached into his pocket for his phone. He didn't want to get his hopes up if she turned out to be from some kind of ludicrous business, only to give him mediocre work. That'd be a kick to the gut. "I'll give her a call now. Get it over with."
A dollop of dressing burst from the wrap, landing over all Ronan's hand. He cursed and dropped his brunch in favour of furiously licking his fingers clean.
"Truly," Trill said dryly at the sight of her boyfriend struggling to chase one particular portion sliding down his wrist, "you're everything I want in a man."
"You only date him for his free wifi," Killua said. He found the message from Kurapika again, tapping once on the contact that had been shared. Trill feigned offense, but didn't bother to argue.
Hand finally clean of dressing, Ronan resumed eating and talking at the same time. "Bold of you to assume I have enough self-respect to be offended by either of you."
"N'aw." Trill reached over and patted his arm. "It's why we like you so much."
Ronan said something about his self-deprecation finally coming in handy, but Killua was slowly beginning to tune them out as he phoned Primera. He abandoned his key lime pie in favour of retreating to his room, and he made extra certain to close his door behind him and lock his windows. Phone pressed to his ear, Killua leaned against the far wall of his room and waited patiently for Primera to pick up.
All it took was three rings. He was absolutely on the money with how pretentious she sounded, too.
"Primera Elise speaking," she drawled. "How may I help you?"
"You do realise I've never met Nish even once, right?"
She fumbled audibly, probably rushing to lock her own door. Killua just listed to her silent curses and mumbles about how long it'd taken to get in contact with him.
"Finally," she growled once she picked up her phone again. "Do you have any idea how important the task I have is?"
He said nothing. Killua already had one person nagging him today over how much he refused to hand his services over on a silver platter.
"I am talking to Killua Zoldyck, yes? The Contract Hunter?"
"One and only," he deadpanned. "But seriously, you bothered someone who doesn't even know me. Couldn't you have just gone after the tech guy I live with?"
Primera huffed. Clearly that was too much of Killua to ask. "What's done is done. More pressing is the reason I've been looking for you, Mr. Zoldyck."
Killua hummed once, prompting her to go on.
"I'm calling on behalf of a researcher by the name of Reseda Beauchene. She's working on something extremely important, and I want only the best Hunters to serve as bodyguards for her."
"And this important thing is…?"
Primera paused. There was absolute silence on her end, and for a moment Killua wondered if the line had dropped. He waited—one minute, two—and even considered calling her back again. But sure enough, her very hushed, very cautious tone broke through the silence.
"Immortality."
If he were Kurapika or Leorio, he would've hung up right there and then and dismissed Primera entirely. But Killua was curious by nature, and the better half of his childhood had been spent with Gon—and Gon was the term carpe diem given human form on most days. There was no way he was going to just stop listening right there.
He lowered his own voice as well. "How many Hunters have you called?"
"Three, including yourself. Only three met my standards in the Contract Hunter community."
He clicked his tongue. If this project was so important, why only three Hunters? "Bit small."
"Reseda already has a team of bodyguards that we've trusted over the years. And before you get smug with me, young man," she growled, stopping Killura before he could even point out the flaw in that statement, "we screen them biyearly."
Killua heaved a sigh. Alright, so the regular bodyguards weren't a bad thing. But three Hunters was still small, especially with something as big as this. Kurapika had worked with more than half a dozen other Hunters when he'd applied for bodyguard work in the mafia—and that was just for the daughter of his boss.
"I'm willing to meet whatever price you name," Primera went on. She must've taken his silence for reluctance. "This work could change the world, Mr. Zoldyck. I refuse to let us lose one of the brightest minds of your generation without a fight. Reseda's work can do so much for us as a species."
He ran a hand through his hair and scrunched up his face. Trill was gonna kill him if he had to keep the details secret, but on the other hand—any price he named was on the table. This woman was serious about trying to get him on her side, that was for sure.
"Well…" Killua glanced down at his floor. Several chocorobo boxes had been shoved in the general direction of his desk bin, though most of them barely came close to being part of the growing tower inside it. Any price, he reminded himself. "Alright. I've called you from my personal phone, so send me any information to this number. A friend of mine installed a number of security measures to keep private information from being accessed easily, so don't worry about any leaks."
Primera let out a loud sigh of relief. "Thank you, Mr. Zoldyck. I'll pay for any accomodation and travel fees you'll need to reach your destination. This… This means a lot for the medical community."
She hung up barely a second later. Killua lowered his phone from his ear, a small part of him stunned that he'd accepted just from the temptation of unlimited chocorobo sent his way. That was definitely something he'd have to omit when he told Trill and Ronan he was going away for a while.
His phone buzzed twice—once with a message from Primera about where he'd be heading to and the building he was meet Reseda at, and the next with an attachment on Reseda's daily life and, as the file indicated, "important details".
Well, Killua decided as he pocketed his phone, the file saved and Primera's contact listed under a fake name, it looked like he had a bit of reading to do anyway.
Straw flower: Agreement
