Chapter One
The Philosophy of Murder
"Danchou wants to recruit the Chain Bastard?" Nobunaga's eyes flash in the cold sunlight of Yorknew City. People mill about the outdoor café, completely oblivious that two wanted killers sit sipping tea in their midst. "He may have killed Uvogin."
His voice catches. May. He can't bring himself to finalize it. He can't admit what they all know – Uvogin is dead.
"It's just a hunch," Machi says quickly. But Chrollo himself trusts her hunches. Like she and her feelings are valuable. He was the first one who listened to her feelings.
"Machi. It's never 'just a hunch' with you." Nobunaga scowls. "But all Danchou said was to bring him back. Have you forgotten the unspoken rule?"
By any means necessary. Alive or dead.
"I won't agree to this." As he speaks, a tingle runs down his spine. Nobunaga scans the area. "We're being watched."
"Is it the Chain Bastard?" Machi asks coolly.
"No idea. Act calm." Nobunaga shifts.
"I am," Machi says, snapping her canned juice in frustration. Oh, Nobunaga, large on heart and small on self-restraint. "You're the one forcing the issue."
"Am I?" Nobunaga growls.
Machi stiffens. She, too, can feel their eyes, but where are they?
"Let's start walking," she says, quietly. Hopefully moving will soothe Nobunaga. "And then we'll get him."
Get lost, fool.
Kurapika awakens with a gasp. Memories haunt his dreams.
Get lost, fool.
And then the big man dies, pierced through the heart by Kurapika's chains. So quickly, so painlessly, so – anticlimactically. Shouldn't murder be more dramatic? Slower? Shouldn't there be a swelling of will, a determination to hurt?
It wasn't murder, he tells himself as he draws the blankets around his quaking body. It was justice.
His phone buzzes again. So that's why he's been awakened: a phone call. Not even the horror of his dreams.
He shivers and picks up the phone. "Hello?"
"Kurapika, finally!" Leorio blusters.
Dammit; he had expected Melody or perhaps Squala.
Kurapika should have checked before answering. He doesn't want his friends seeing him like this.
Like a killer.
Leorio pauses. "Are you there?"
"I'm working." On sleep. Kurapika fights the lump growing in his throat. I'm a killer, Leorio.
"Well, get here! Gon and Killua have been kidnapped by the Phantom Troupe!" Leorio howls.
"What?!" Kurapika nearly drops his phone. He scrambles out of bed.
"They were trailing them for bounties and – now they're kidnapped!" Leorio whimpers. "We have to rescue them."
For bounties. How very Gon and Killua. Kurapika shakes. "They're killers, Leorio."
"I know that," he huffs. "You of all people know that. That's why we have to save them."
"Do you know where they're hiding?"
"I traced the call, yes."
Kurapika wonders. He wonders if he can die and take the entire troupe with him. "Then let's go."
He won't let them take another friend from him, no matter the cost.
"How can you kill people you don't even know and then mourn your own?" Gon shouts. He clutches Nobunaga's hand tighter and tighter. "It makes me sick."
Bam. Nobunaga's arm smashes against the table.
The ninja's eyes widen, but just as quickly as his victory, the small torturer has his sword by Gon's neck.
Killua starts, but a razor-sharp card grazes his throat.
"That's enough," Hisoka says slyly, as if he has never met Killua before, as if they hadn't survived the Hunter Exam together, as if he didn't know Illumi at all.
As if he would kill Killua without question.
"Yes," calls a sassy voice. "That's enough on many levels!"
Gon gasps. Killua's heart pounds.
Because that's Leorio's voice. He and Kurapika – the Kurapika Killua now suspects of killing this Uvogin – saunter into the troupe's hideout.
"Let them go now and no one gets hurt," Leorio blusters.
Kurapika bites his lip. Leorio's very good at blustering, he realizes.
He will miss it.
"Who the fuck are you?" A muscular man with no eyebrows to speak of advances menacingly.
"He's not important," Kurapika says. "But I am."
Kurapika surveys his enemies. A gun-toting woman in a low-cut suit. A magenta-haired tomboy. A ninja. The eyebrow-less man in a tracksuit. A giant. A mummy. A kid with a phone. A small, glasses-clad lady in a turtleneck. A man resembling more a mop than a human. Hisoka. And the tiny torturer holding Gon.
Who are these people? And who is their leader?
The woman with the low-cut suit raises an eyebrow, as if suspecting Kurapika already.
Kurapika activates his chains. "I'm the one you seek. Let my friends go, and I'll go with you."
"You!" screams the ninja. He's restrained by the pink-haired woman, and the vacuum-wielder holds back the eyebrow-less wonder.
"Kurapika, the Chain User is you?" Gon cries in surprise.
"How did it not become obvious?" Killua retorts.
Hisoka watches Kurapika with narrowed eyes. Just what is this masochist planning?
"Did you kill Uvogin?" demands the ninja.
Kurapika pales. In front of Gon and Killua.
"I did," he says simply.
The room falls silent.
The ninja screams suddenly. He lunges for him, but nen threads by the pinkette catch him.
"Stop, Nobunaga," she commands. "I told you: Danchou wants to recruit him."
Kurapika blanches. One, because their boss isn't even here. He thought he was merely resigning himself to his death, but had hoped to take the boss with him.
Two, because they want to keep him? To kill indigenous tribes alongside each other like a merry band of murderers?
"What?!" rages the torturer, digging his sword deeper into Gon's neck.
"This has gone far enough," sighs the giant.
"I'm calling Danchou." The kid with the phone dials a number.
"How could you, Kurapika?" Gon is stricken.
"Doesn't matter," Kurapika says icily. He steels himself. Don't talk. Not a word about my eyes.
It's worth this.
Mercifully, Gon seems to understand. The kid hangs up the phone.
"What did he say, Shalnark?" asks the bespectacled woman.
"He wants him to stay here. He'll be back from the auction shortly," says Shalnark.
Kurapika sits with Leorio, across from the troupe. His chains remain activated, though not Emperor Time. Not yet.
Footsteps echo throughout the cavernous room. Kurapika doesn't take his eyes off Gon and Killua, who are still restrained by the torturer and Hisoka,r respectively.
A man pivots before him.
Kurapika finds himself surprised at his youth. The boss is not much older than Kurapika, with raven-hair and a cross on his forehead. He wears a preposterous feathered coat, as if trying desperately to be noticed; that is the last thin Kurapika would have anticipated. Between his delicate features are enormous grey eyes that look rather like clouds.
Kurapika scowls. How dare he look anything but evil.
The man squats before him so that they are on eye-level. "So, you are the Chain Bastard."
"His parents were married," Leorio grumbles, drawing a chuckle from the leader and a growl from Kurapika.
"What is your name?"
"Kurapika."
"No surname?"
"No."
"I understand," says the man, in a soft, sorrowful voice. "I am Chrollo Lucilfer."
"Is that your real name?" Kurapika asks bluntly.
"It is now." The leader smiles slightly. "Where is Uvogin?"
The man's eyes look like rainclouds. His fists are clenched. Like he already knows.
"Buried," Kurapika says as curtly as he can.
A tear runs down the man's cheek, shocking Kurapika.
"He deserved better," Chrollo Lucilfer mutters.
"He killed – he killed so many at the auction," Kurapika protests.
"Let's kill him, Danchou. I've heard enough. Though we can spare his friends. I want to recruit them," says Nobunaga as he scrambles to his feet.
"No way!" Gon cries.
"I want to recruit him," Chrollo says.
"I don't," says Hisoka, of all people.
An idea occurs to Kurapika. A way to kill them all.
"Worried I'll give away your secret?" Kurapika turns his gaze to Hisoka.
Hisoka narrows his eyes.
"What does that mean?" Phinks demands.
"He came to me with information on you some months ago," Kurapika says calmly.
Shalnark places a hand on Nobunaga's shoulder.
"You're joking," says the mummy.
"He's not," Chrollo says.
"I knew not to trust him," spits the torturer. He shoves Gon and Killua into the Giant so he can glare Hisoka down.
"Hisoka." Chrollo looks at their newest member.
Hisoka shrugs.
Shrugs.
Nobunaga leaps for him, and Shalnark scrambles after, but Chrollo has already teleported him behind them all. "We do not fight amongst each other."\
Kurapika eyes the book in Chrollo's hand. Bandit's Secret, it reads.
"He sold out Uvo!" cries Nobunaga.
Everyone glares at Hisoka. Hell, even Gon and Killua and Leorio glare at Hisoka.
Hisoka titters as his bloodlust swells. Well, this is an interesting opportunity if there ever was one. "Oops."
"Chrollo, what do you want to do?" The pinkette looks ready to murder Hisoka. She looks like she'd enjoy it.
Kurapika gulps. He has faith Hisoka will escape. Maybe kill a few members along the way. Or at least injure them.
"Let him go," Chrollo says.
Kurapika stiffens.
"You're not going to fight me?" Hisoka wilts. He turns grey.
"We don't fight each other."
Hisoka whips off his shirt.
"Oh God, no," the pinkette groans.
He then rips the skin off his back, taking the tattooed spider marked 4 with it. "Am I?"
Chrollo looks almost sad. "I am not going to give you what you want. You were a real troupe member to me. So, no. I have no interest in fighting you."
"What if l kill them." Hisoka points to Shalnark and the mop-man.
"I'd like to see you try," Feitan growls.
"Boss, please let me kill him," Nobunaga begs.
Chrollo's eyes flicker with – it can't be concern for Nobunaga's safety. Kurapika won't believe it.
"You won't." Chrollo waves his hand, and Hisoka disappears.
"Why aren't you bloodthirsty?" Kurapika bursts out. "You certainly were at the auction. What are you?"
Chrollo meets his gaze, then glances away. "The Spider."
He raises his voice, addressing the entire troupe. "We should leave tonight. With Hisoka out, it's too dangerous to stay."
"And my friends?" Kurapika asks anxiously.
"They can go."
"But I wanted to recruit them," Nobunaga says.
"Never!" Gon yells.
"He doesn't exactly sound willing," Chrollo says, offering Gon a wry smile.
"Why? Why do you do it? Why do you kill people you don't even know?" Gon demands as he and Killua break their bonds.
Chrollo stares at Gon, wordless.
Kurapika's heart slows.
"Why?" Chrollo asks softly. "Why? Is it because I don't know them?"
He turns his head up, to the broken skylight two stories above them. It casts a shadow across his moonlit face. "No, that's not it. I don't – I wonder – to answer this question – is it the key to finding myself?"
Kurapika watches him with his mouth open. No one else in the troupe seems fazed.
Who is this philosophical mass murderer?
"Let them go," Chrollo orders, but Gon, Killua, and Leorio step forward instead of away.
"We won't leave without Kurapika."
"Kurapika?" Chrollo offers him his hand. "See if we are the murderers you think us to be."
"I'm sorry," Kurapika says to his friends. He takes Chrollo's hand.
Kurapika wonders.
These people don't care about Uvogin. They don't care about anyone. They're barely human.
Perhaps he can kill them from the inside out.
As for Chrollo, however, he is unsure why Neon's fortune floats in his head.
The calendar loses a precious component
The remaining months gather to mourn
The mourners will play his melody
As the eleventh moon slowly rises
The chrysanthemum withers and falls
To lie on the ground besides Bloody Scarlet Eyes
But you will remain supreme
Even though you will grow more limbs
Enjoy the Interlude
Seek out new allies
East is the direction to go.
You will find one who loves you.