A/N: This is probably the strangest fic I have ever written. I don't even have the excuse of saying I came up with this while sleep deprived...
Anyways I am really interested to know what people think so please don't be shy with the reviews and enjoy the story.
Settling the cards into their place as the final tier of his house of cards Hisoka settled himself back against the couch in the picturesque living room. He truly meant "picturesque." If any home and house magazine was opened this living room could have settled nicely across a glossy two-page spread; a dark beige loveseat and matching couch surrounded two sides of a mahogany coffee table with only a small crystal vase of fresh flowers adorning the top, the shelves beneath organized pristinely so one never had to search long for anything. The plushy white carpet beneath looked so spotless that it seemed brand new from the store and angled in the corner beside the three panel bay window was the matching beige recliner with a hand knitted afghan folded over the back, a tall standing lamp stood just beside the chair.
Perhaps the only thing the room lacked, in Hisoka's opinion, was a television. The room, and subsequently the house, was utterly silent. The unsettling kind of silence where one felt as though any second something was going to go horribly wrong and fuck everything up.
Just outside the room was the front hallway, where the sound of the front door banging open and shut came from. A pleasant smile formed on the jester's lips – even if he was dressed in normal clothes such as blue jeans and a button up black shirt with the cuffs rolled up – and he knocked the house of cards so it collapsed on the table.
Seconds later the loud clattering of school backpacks and shoes against the floor preceded a trio of voices calling out,
"We're home!" It was all the invitation the red head needed to saunter to his feet and return the greeting, standing in the entry way between the room and the hall.
"Welcome home~"
"Gah! It's the pedo again!" The young boy with tussled silver hair exclaimed with part irritation and part disgust. Killua was his name and he was best friends with the equally young spikey black haired boy, Gon, who was huddled next to him with a pouting expression. The third boy who had also announced his return was also dark haired, a few years younger than Killua and Gon, named Zushi. However it was not just those three who had returned, there were two more children who lived in the house; Machi and Illumi.
Those two are the oldest, both being fourteen and well into their first years of high school. Machi was slim with long, silky pink hair and a cold expression. Not being the friendly sort she ignored Hisoka completely and shoved past him with her backpack still clutched in her hand. Hisoka, grinning maddeningly despite their being nothing remotely amusing, turned his yellow eyes onto the last boy – Illumi. Shoulder length straight black hair, large obsidian eyes, and an expressionless face greeted the jester. If Machi was 'unfriendly; than Illumi was 'anti-social.' The man very rarely got the teen to speak, and those were typically answers to his questions in five words or less.
"Good afternoon I-llu-mi," Hisoka purred only to be given a blank look and a brush off. Chuckling to himself as he watched the kid walk off his attention was returned with Killua's crisp words.
"Oi pedo! Why are you here?"
"I thought you might have been missing me so I came for a visit. Won't you give me a hug?" He threw his arms out wide in invitation and tried not to laugh as Killua's face transformed to show his disgust. Lowering his arms he let slide one giggle before answering in some seriousness, "Mito and Wing left some time ago but didn't want to leave the five of you alone. Viola!"
"So they thought leaving us in the hands of a pedo like you was safer than leaving us alone?" Killua snorted, not buyin a thing Hisoka said. He was such a big liar.
"Let's just go Killua," Gon tugged on his friend's sleeve, "we have homework."
"Shall I give you boys a hand hmm~?"
"No way!" Killua cried at the same time Gon shouted,
"We'll be fine!"
Raising his hands in mock surrender Hisoka returned to his spot on the couch as the three boys snatched up their backpacks and made a mad dash for where their bedrooms lay.
Although Killua had called him a liar Hisoka was currently where he was because Mito had indeed called him, though he had omitted telling the boys that she had been in a panic at the time. Not understanding half of what the woman had said, all the jester could grasp was something was wrong with the man called Wing (Mito's long-time boyfriend) and that he was her only hope. Apparently no one else had been able to get to the house as quickly as Hisoka to greet the kids when they returned from school.
It was truly a strange day, Hisoka thought as the cards were collected before he once more began building a tower and the house returned to the silence it had had before the children's return, now occasionally punctured by a shouted insult or two from the second floor. Not only a strange day, a strange house as well.
Finishing the second tier of the house of cards Hisoka thought about the different relationships between the houses occupants:
Hisoka and Mito were second cousins.
Mito was the mother of Gon.
Wing was the father of Zushi.
Illumi was Wing's step-son from a previous marriage, while Killua was Illumi's half-brother.
Machi was somehow related to Mito, though Hisoka wasn't precisely sure how. He guessed they were cousins or perhaps aunt and niece.
It was some hours later, nearing the dinner hour that Hisoka yawned and pulled his cell phone from his pocket. There were no missed messages. A frown wormed its way onto Hisoka's face. Something was beginning to feel very wrong about this situation.
"-re crazy!" Killua's voice caught the jester's attention enough that he tilted his head and wondered what was going on. The pounding of multiple pairs of feet descending stairs intrigued him all the more.
"But Killua!" Gon's voice whined, sounding ever closer to the room where Hisoka still sat. Moments later Killua, Gon, and Zushi appeared in the entryway. Gon stepped forward, mouth opening to say something until he caught the undivided attention the older man was giving him. Chickening out Gon shoved Killua in front of him, the latter cursing vilely enough for Hisoka to chuckle. The brat had quiet the sailor's mouth already, how cute.
With a resigned sigh the boy with naturally silver hair squared his shoulders and turned to address Hisoka with his usual petulant tone.
"Do you know how to cook?" Hisoka's eyebrow rose at the unexpected question.
"Excuse me?"
"Can you cook or not?" He repeated, sounding more snappish the longer he stood there.
Smiling as he held off his answer, dragging out the boys' discomfort until he finally gave the only truthful answer there was, "Nope," with a pop on the p sound.
"Told ya," Killua grumbled to Gon and Zushi, three faces showing utter disappointment. Those expressions forced Hisoka to relent, picking up the phone from where it had been placed on the table.
"But, I can order some take out. What are you in the mood for?" Three pairs of eyes lit up and smiles overrode all other expressions. If there was a signal Hisoka missed it because as one voice they all shouted,
"Pizza!" at the top of their lungs.
Nodding as he thumbed through his contacts looking for the local pizza place's number (which he had ensured was saved the last time he wound up watching these kids) Hisoka asked what toppings they would like, making sure he got suggestions for what Machi and Illumi might like as well.
It was much later when Hisoka opened the door of Killua's bedroom to see he and Gon fast asleep on the one mattress. He smirked as a twitch in the one's leg caused the other to roll over and land his foot on Killua's stomach. It amazed the jester that they could sleep like that without having to unknot themselves in the morning… then again, maybe they did.
Softly closing the door Hisoka opened the one across the hall to see a peacefully sleeping Zushi. Snuggled on his right side beneath the covers Zushi's mouth was slightly open and a snore escaped him.
After seeing that all the younger ones were "tucked in" so to speak Hisoka walked down the hallway, passing the top of the stairs, to the three remaining bedrooms. He knew the one at the very end was Mito's and Wing's so that door remained undisturbed. However, a bright light beneath the one on the left indicated either Machi or Illumi was still awake.
Not knowing whom to expect Hisoka decided to uphold common courtesy and knocked before opening the door (ignoring the part where he was supposed to wait for permission). Illumi was seated at a plain wooden desk, laptop open and him typing away. He gave no acknowledgment to the red head's presence. Not being put off by the teen's normal attitude Hisoka walked in and sat himself on the foot of the twin bed, closest to where Illumi was. He looked around to discover an average looking bedroom. The bed he sat upon was neatly made up, the only creases on the blue-green-purple-red stripped comforter forming out from under Hisoka's butt. A bookcase was organized alphabetically by author, not a spine out of place. And, if he had looked closer, Hisoka doubted he would find even a speck of dirt anywhere. At a glance it seemed like such a normal room but the longer one looked the more of the teen's absent personality was found. The only personal touches seemed to be the books and those consisted of non-fiction texts on a variety of subjects.
The rhythmic tapping of the keyboard halted as Ilumi turned to pin Hisoka with his black eyes.
"Did you want something?"
Scraping a set of nails along his scalp to keep his red hair out of his eyes as he locked stares with the teen Hisoka relaxed back so his weight was centered on his palms, which were resting further behind him.
"Can't I just want to get to know you better?" Hisoka asked fighting the twitch in his lips to keep an innocent face.
"No," was the blunt reply. Illumi turned around to resume typing, a hint that Hisoka should leave. A hint the jester happily ignored by coming up behind Illumi's chair to lay his arms along the top and rested his chin to look over the raven's shoulder.
"What is Illu working on?"
"Illu?" A tilt of the head but no other reaction, not even a hesitation against a stroke of a key.
"Yes, what is my precious Illu working on so late at night?" Hisoka's right hand trailed down the chair, wanting to touch the teen's smooth pale skin only to be thwarted and have it slapped away by Illumi's smaller one. His bottom lip pushed out for a pout and Illumi returned to typing with both hands. Not once had he turned around.
It was just as Hisoka decided to leave the teen be, as he obviously wasn't going to get any fun out of him, that his phone vibrated. The caller ID flashed Mito's name.
"Hisoka?" Her voice sounded hoarse so she cleared her throat before repeating louder, "Hisoka?"
'So wonderful to hear from you~" He cooed and strolled away, not missing how Illumi's fingers broke their rhythm. Was the teen curious?
"I'm sorry but could you spend the night with the kids? I… I won't be home tonight." His good mood fell instantly as Mito's voice hitched in several places and sounded like she was about to cry by the end. Nothing of her usually calm voice was there tonight. And Hisoka hadn't missed her wording either – I – where was Wing?
He had reached the top of stairs, laying one hand on the banister, nodding his head.
"Alright Mito, don't worry your little head about them and see you tomorrow."
"Thank you Hisoka," Mito whispered before disconnecting the call to leave Hisoka where he was. Thoughts went through his mind but nothing was making sense.
"Who was that?" Illumi's monotonous voice startled Hisoka and nearly sent the jester toppling to the bottom of the stairs, which would have been greatly embarrassing.
"Oh~ Is little Illu curious?"
"No"
The automatic yet contradictory answer returned Hisoka somewhat to his previous good mood. With a forceful push he tried to get Mito and this situation from his mind.
"Then good night." The red head bade but was answered with silence as the teen returned to his room.
Hisoka's nose twitched as something soft brushed his nostrils. Seconds later the sensation returned, and again, to cause Hisoka to sneeze. Sitting up to try and cover his mouth with his hand the man was shocked when something cold and creamy was smeared across his lower face. Opening his eyes in time to glare bemusedly at the back of certain young boys running from the room Hisoka heard their giggles. Granted sleeping so deeply with them around had been unwise but Hisoka had spent too long looking out the front window and pondering about Mito and Wing. As much as he had tried he could not let it go last night and ended up falling asleep on the couch shortly after five this morning.
Shaking his head Hisoka used the back of his cream filled hand to wipe what he could from his lips and chin. There was no need to reprimand the boys, Hisoka had been the one to teach them that trick after all; it was just ironic that he was now a victim of his own students.
Walking into the bathroom Hisoka neglected to notice the steam fogged room until he was roughly shoved back out and the door slammed in his face. Blinking rapidly Hisoka wondered if he really had just seen a towel clade Machi, who had worn a very peeved expression. Oops.
"Hisoka's a pedo and a perv. Who knew?" Killua snickered from farther down the hall, ducking his head back around the corner and into the kitchen where he and the other two seemed to be making quite the ruckus. Hisoka followed the noise, still with cream dripping down his chin, to discover an extremely messy kitchen.
The counter was cluttered with dirty mixing bowls, what seemed to be batter splatters, orange juice spills, and sticky maple syrup. The table was similarly filled with half-finished breakfast plates – pancakes as Hisoka had thought – surrounded by Killua, Gon, Zushi, and surprisingly Illumi (the only one who seemed to understand the function of a napkin). To Hisoka it looked as if something had exploded in their attempt to make breakfast. That said, he was impressed that nothing seemed to be on fire, or even smoking, and the food appeared edible enough.
A very strange house indeed.