I tried really hard to only post one story at a time, but for me, that doesn't really work out. I need variation when writing.

So here I am, posting the first chapter of Lost Hunter. :D I just couldn't resist, the inspiration and temptation were too strong.

My other story will have priority at all times until it's finished, so updates for this one here will be slower until I can concentrate fully on it.

There will be quite a few OCs. If that's not your cup of tea, take the chance and make a run for it.

Summary: Killua Zoldyck and Cyrene Amianth are working together to find Cyrene's lost niece, Milly. The problem is: Their teamwork is not entirely voluntary, which might or might not make things harder than they should be. [Killua/OC]

Enjoy!

Forced Teamwork

"Say, do you smoke?"

Cyrene Amianth was driving her jeep along the highway from Redshore city to Dryfield, humming softly along to the melody the radio was playing, tapping her fingers rhythmically onto the steering wheel. She was used to driving alone for hours, and had taken up the hobby of fighting the ensuing boredom with singing. There were barely any cars on the highway in this region, and if she didn't have something to busy herself with, she ran the risk of falling asleep.

They had left Redshore at 05.00 am, had been sitting in the car for eight hours and were still nowhere near their destination.

The question hit her out of nowhere; disrupting the calming activity she had been partaking in, causing her to scowl disdainfully at the person next to her, gripping the steering wheel with more force.

Killua was leaning back in his seat, hands crossed behind his head, staring out the front window.

When the young man had first entered the car, Cyrene would have betted some good money on him falling asleep somewhere along the line. Everyone always did. She had been thoroughly surprised to realize that he had not closed his eyes once in the course of eight hours.

At least he's relatively silent most of the time.

"No, I don't. And I dare you to whip out a cigarette in my car. I swear to god you'll be walking to Dryfield. Let me tell you; it's not going to be a fun trip."

"Jeez, calm down. I don't smoke; I just thought you sound as if you would."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Just that you sometimes sound rougher than a dying motor."

Cyrene tsked and pressed her lips together. She wouldn't want to start another argument. Arguing with Killua was, as she had quickly come to realize, extremely tiring and explosive. They were like two aggressive cats fighting over their territory, both screeching loudly and going for the jugular as soon as the opportunity arouse.

So, instead of firing back a witty comeback, she concentrated on the road in front of her. When she saw a sign signalling a roadhouse appear on the horizon, she breathed out a sigh of relief.

"We're taking a break there; I need to stretch my legs."

Killua just hummed in acknowledgement, otherwise not saying anything on the matter.

After two miles, she exited the motorway and came to a stop in front of a shabby looking building. Opening the door of her jeep, she jumped out onto the asphalt. The air was dry and hot, the sun burning her skin. She stretched her stiff back and moaned in pain when she heard her neck crack.

"Let's get something to eat, I'm starving" she yawned, and made her way to the entrance.

Killua followed her in long strides, quickly catching up to her until he was trotting beside her leisurely. "Are you sure you should drive anymore? You look kind of tired."

"I am tired," she admitted, "but I want to reach Dryfield as soon as possible, preferably today." She looked at her wristwatch, quickly counting the hours in her head. "That'll probably be around eight pm. Fuck my life."

"I can drive for a bit. I have my license, you know," he offered, and she couldn't quite interpret the tone of his voice.

Cyrene glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, and, seeing the honest expression on his face, nodded in agreement. "Fine, as long as you don't trash my jeep, in which case we would both have to walk - which, I repeat, would not be a fun trip."

"Don't worry, I've got this. I'm a decent driver."

They ordered two sandwiches and coffees at the counter, and brought them to a bar table in the corner of the little bistro.

Cyrene heartily bit into the still warm bread, smiling contentedly. "You know, for all the filth that's probably around here, these sandwiches are damn good."

"Okay, I'm just coming straight to the point," Killua said out of nowhere, holding the sandwich in his hands without even looking at it. "What's the matter?"

Cyrene was about to take another bite, when his question caused her to stop mid-air. She was itching to just eat, but Killua didn't sound as if he would tolerate for her ignoring his inquiry.

"That's a pretty vague question. 'Straight to the point' my ass. How am I supposed to answer that?"

Killua gritted his teeth. "Then let me rephrase it; why are we driving to Dryfield?"

She laid her sandwich onto the table, looking at him quizzically. "If you're asking why we specifically are driving there, it's because your sister is a worrywart and you have the self-assertion of a loyal puppy when you're around her."

"Don't play dumb! What's in Dryfield that requires two Hunters to solve it?" His cheeks were tainted in a hue of red, but Cyrene chose to ignore it for the time being. The problem at hand was definitely more important.

"Are you serious? She didn't tell you?"

"She told me there was some 'creepy stuff' going on somewhere, and you were determined to solve it, because it affects you personally."

Cyrene shrugged her shoulders, gazing longingly at the snack in her hands. "Well, there you have it."

"That's it?"

"That's it." She looked up at him, raising an eyebrow. "There's a reason the word 'solve' is being used there, you know."

"How is it affecting you personally, then? You have to know that at least."

"Apparently, the daughter of my brother disappeared three days ago. He's worried sick, and I'm gonna be honest: I love my niece to bits."

Killua finally took a bite out of his sandwich, some sauce dripping onto the table. "Do you have any more information?" he asked, frowning.

Cyrene furrowed her eyebrows. "Not much. Just that there's been strange things happening. I'm talking 'people,-cattle-and-valuables-disappearing-strange'."

Killua hummed. "So it's right up your alley."

"You could say that," she mumbled.

Since she had become a Lost Hunter, she had been confronted with many cases of people going missing. Some had been Hunters, some had been civilians – but she had never worked on a personal case, and she doubted her ability to do so more and more, the longer she thought about it.

On one hand she felt obligated to do something, she knew she couldn't just sit still and live her life as she always had when her niece was missing, and there was no denying that it was right up her alley. On the other hand, and this unsettled her, staying professional when feelings were involved was not her strong suit.

She knew she just needed to keep a clear mind at all times. For this reason, she was secretly glad someone was accompanying her. If she were all alone, she might have long gone insane.

When she had told Alluka she would be going to Dryfield for the mission, right after her sister-in-law had called her, she had not anticipated the onslaught of voiced concerns.

"What if you go missing as well?"

"What if you die and I never see you again?"

Cyrene could still hear Alluka's high pitched, distressed voice, pleading with her to stay, or to take someone with her.

Cyrene knew that Alluka had been worrying about her mental and emotional health more than her ability to solve the case on her own. Alluka feared she might not be able to handle it alone, and wanted her to have some support.

Telling her friend she had always worked alone had not calmed her down. Instead, or so Cyrene assumed, Alluka had told her brother everything, in turn causing him to worry about his sister and her emotional health.

In the end, after Killua's best friend Gon had had the brilliant idea for Killua of all people to just tag along, Alluka had made them meet up.

And here they were.

Really, she and Killua standing in a roadhouse, eating sandwiches together and talking about 'their' case was the result of a chain of unlucky occurrences. A chain of unlucky occurrences and Killua's softness when it came to Alluka.

But they were adults. They could work with this.

At least she told herself that.

"Are you intending to finish your lunch anytime soon?" Killua's voice yanked her out of her thoughts. He was crumbling the paper of the sandwich between his hands, throwing it into the bin next to the table.

"Yup," she answered, and took another bite.

Somehow, she wasn't as hungry anymore.

Killua excused himself, saying he was going to the bathroom. Cyrene shouted after him to refill their gasoline, to which he just grumbled in affirmation.

She leaned into the table in front of her and sighed, chewing slowly. They had a long road ahead of them.

And this was only the beginning.

"Do you think Killua is resenting me now?"

The meek voice reached Gon's ears, and he immediately turned his head to look at Alluka. Her blue eyes were already shining with unshed tears, and he could clearly see the regret in them.

No matter how often he looked at her eyes, he was always reminded of Killua's own blue eyes.

Over the years, Gon had become a master in reading blue Zoldyck eyes. He was consciously excluding the black ones, because even he was not entirely sure what they were hiding half of the time.

Alluka hadn't even touched her bowl of ice cream. Instead, she was staring at the table in front of her, her hands pressed together in her lap, her figure tense and unmoving.

"Why should he?"

"I guilt-tripped him into going with Cyrene, even though he didn't want to."

"Don't be silly, you couldn't guilt-trip Killua into anything, he knows what he wants. And it was my idea anyway," he added, taking a spoon full of his own chocolate ice cream. "Plus, he agreed entirely on his own."

Gon would not tell her that he had only seen Killua's reluctant expression change when he had looked at Alluka's hopeful eyes, his determination to decline crumbling into a million pieces right before his eyes.

It had been fascinating to watch, to say the least.

"How did you two even meet?" Gon asked, trying to change the subject. Killua would probably skin him alive if he made Alluka worry more than she already did.

"Huh?"

"You and Cyrene, I mean."

Alluka smiled. "One of my pupils went missing, and the child's parents hired her to investigate."

Gon grinned. When he had first heard that Alluka wanted to become an elementary school teacher, he had immediately warmed up to the idea. It just seemed right, and he could effortlessly imagine Alluka standing in the middle of a horde of children, trying to keep track of all of them. He was sure the children absolutely adored her, and if her stories were anything to go by, his assumption was more than correct.

"So, right the day after that, Cyrene came to me, to ask some questions about the missing child," Alluka continued her story, looking as if she was lost in thought. "That's when we met. And when she finally found the child two days later, totally unscathed, I was so relieved and thankful that I invited her for a cup of tea." She smiled sheepishly. "That kind of became a thing afterwards, us drinking tea together, I mean."

"I see," Gon said, and eyed the bowl in front of Alluka curiously. "Won't you eat that? It's melting away right under your nose. Your brother would go crazy if he ever found out you were wasting that bowl of perfectly fine ice cream."

Alluka's head shot up, and she looked at Gon, scandalized. "You wouldn't tell him! You so wouldn't!"

He laughed. "Who knows?"

After that, Alluka practically inhaled the ice cream.

Gon almost regretted having joked about it, because Killua would definitely skin him alive if Alluka choked on a bite of ice cream because of him.

"Oh god," Cyrene moaned, "who taught you to drive? You can go faster, there aren't any cars!"

"I'm perfectly within the speed limit," Killua retorted, his knuckles white from how hard he was gripping the steering wheel in repressed anger.

Cyrene felt the sweat running down her neck, the heat inside the car was torturous and her hair was sticking to her skin disgustingly.

She opened her braid and pulled her black hair up into a ponytail instead, holding the hair tie between her lips. When the car hit a pothole, it fell out of her mouth and onto the floor. The unruly hair she had arduously gathered at the back of her head fell back down when she let it go out of shock.

"Great."

"What is it?" Killua asked, obviously taking notice of the petulance in her voice.

"I feel like I'm being cooked alive and my hair tie just bowed out." She crouched down, probably cutting a ridiculous figure, searching for it. After a few seconds, she came back up, feeling just done. "I can't find it."

"You hair's fine the way it is," Killua remarked, not in the least bit sounding as if he meant it as a compliment. It was obvious he was just doing damage control, not having any interest in discussing hair and hair ties.

"Thanks, Mr. Sycophant, but that's really not the problem. I don't think you'd understand," she said, eyeing his short hair enviously. It looked really fluffy, and the temptation to ruffle it overcame her.

When she had first laid eyes upon him, she hadn't been able to believe that he and Alluka were siblings. At first glance, they looked like day and night. Only after some thorough inspection of both of their faces, she had been able to see the resemblance in their facial structures; the way their noses pointed upward slightly, or the way little dimples formed at the corners of their mouths when they smiled. Not to mention they both had the most vibrant, blue eyes she had ever seen.

If she didn't play attention, she knew she could get lost in those eyes entirely, which was something she'd rather avoid.

At least for now.

"Why don't you just cut it?" Killua suggested.

"Because it is fine the way it is," she said, slightly disturbed by the thought of bidding farewell to her long hair, "but it's a pain in the neck to maintain, and the hot weather is not helping, either."

"It's only going to get worse," he said, sounding a bit miffed himself.

"I know; I've been there before. My brother has been living in Dryfield for five years."

She hadn't seen him in two years, and hadn't it been for Milly's disappearance, she really would have looked forward to meeting him again. They hadn't ever had one of those extremely close sibling bonds, but they both knew they could count on the other to help them if the need arose.

Cyrene clenched her hands.

She would find Milly. She would find her for her brother, and bring her back to him.

Cost what it may.