A/N: Finally! This is the sequel to A Series of Bizarre and Mildly Humourous Events! I apologize for taking so long to come out with it. In my defense, the story developed sentience and tried to kill me. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this story, and do remember to leave a review at the end!
Hunter X Hunter does not belong to me. I do not own the copyright to any of these materials. This is a fanfiction written solely for the purposes of entertainment, and the views stated by the characters do not necessarily reflect the views of the author. If you wish to host this story on a site outside of this site, please contact the author for permission first.
The Beginning: A Series of Politically Inappropriate Happenings
It is very odd, this thing called 'life'. When a person is born into this world, he is given seventy to a hundred years to do something with it. At the same time, the world happily limits the extent to which the individual can live his life according to his will. Laws, rules, social norms and expectations from people around him drive the individual to limit himself, to regress, to devolve into something that he is not. It is through this that the true potential of an individual is cruelly stamped out, it is through this that the wings of an individual are snapped, broken and stomped into the ground like worthless piles of feather not even fit to stuff a pillow. The individual is left as nothing more than a collection of meat, of cells, dying slowly day by day by day by…
Kuroro paused in mid-thought and reconsidered the thought that had just run through his mind. Slowly, he examined it, savouring it like a thimble of wine of undecided quality. It was, he decided, sullen, exaggeratedly emotional and highly irritated. Ah, that can only mean one thing: he was in a very, very bad mood.
That could not be helped. From the moment Kuroro parted with Midoya, his life had entered what he thought of as a 'swirl of escalating frenzied violent activity'. First, there was the Ryodan. Kuroro loved the Ryodan. It had always been his dream, since he was a young teen staring at the rest of his life with large, uncertain eyes, to have a group of friends who will murder people he didn't like and steal things that he wanted for him. To have it come true was amazing, wonderful and everything Kuroro had ever wished for. However, at the same time, the downside of having a group that only moves when you give the orders is that when you aren't around to give the orders, things kind of… fall… apart.
Take for example, the consequences of having Feitan as temporary Dancho.
"What is this?" Kuroro had demanded the moment he had returned to their base in York Shin. 'This' referred to the dead bodies littering the floor of the base. Even at first glance, Kuroro could tell they had been left there deliberately. If the way each and every corpse spotted the exact same set of mutilations wasn't a clue, the bodies' arrangements in the shape of a spider most certainly was.
"It was our temporary Dancho's orders," Phinx replied casually. "He felt that the reason why the little boys we took hostage weren't afraid of us is because our base doesn't look scary enough. So he figured having dead, mutilated corpses around would scare our future prisoners or hostages into submission. Why do you ask, Dancho? Is there a problem?"
"Yes," Kuroro had replied, holding his nose and staring in horror at the thick, smoky clouds of flies ascending like a black tornado from the corpses. "Yes, there is a… problem."
If that was the last of the temporary insanity that had gripped the Ryodan in his absence, Kuroro would have let it slide. The Ryodan was not exactly the most stable or sane bunch around anyway, and he was used to sudden lapses in rationality. However, the changes that had taken place the moment he was absent had manifested in many aspects of the Ryodan. This included the admittance of young children of indeterminate gender to the Ryodan, the establishment of a rule that said violence must be a part of every single mission and the abolishment of the 'coin' system as a good way of solving conflict in favour of open, bloody battles. Reversing all the changes amidst a solid cloud of flies (which Shizuku could not clean up because they were alive) did not make Kuroro a happy man.
As if that (and planning the subsequent moves against the chain-person) wasn't enough, there was Hisoka to contend with. The fight, which eventually took place on the plains of the same desert the chain-person had spitefully left him defenceless on, had been long, tedious and very disturbing. Even now, Kuroro did not like thinking about the details of the fight for too long. Suffice to say it was challenging, sexually inappropriate and came really close to leaving Kuroro mutilated, violated and dead, probably not in that order. By the end of the seventy-two hours the fight had lasted, Kuroro had been hanging on by the tips of his fingers and thankful that Hisoka had finally ran out of steam, enough so that even though neither of them were dead, Hisoka was satisfied enough to leave it at that.
What with all the things he had to deal with, by the end of the week, Kuroro was ready to throw the towel in, preferably in somebody's face. He had formed the Ryodan as a protest against restrictions to his freedom, not to add to his restrictions damn it.
Yet again, Kuroro was forced to pause in mid-thought as he considered the ending of his last thought. It was, he noted objectively, what is commonly known as a 'swear word' or a 'cuss'. That was very uncharacteristic of him and could only mean one thing.
"I'm a little stressed, don't you think?" he commented nonchalantly to Shalnark.
He watched Shalnark look at his face and then at the book that he had torn to tatters in his hands (a cheap brainless novel Midoya had left behind which used boring, simple quantum physics as a narrative plot and, just for that, deserved to be destroyed). "Perhaps," Shalnark replied smiling nervously. "Would you like a massage?"
Recently, Shalnark had read in a science journal that regular massages helped reduce stress in an individual, and made the individual easier to get along with. He had, subsequently, started offering massages to anyone who would take it in a desperate attempt to keep the Ryodan members off each other's throat during Kuroro's absence. So far, only Nobunaga had taken him up on the offer, and as far as Kuroro could tell, he was still the same old violent person. "No thank you," Kuroro told Shalnark as kindly as he could in his present state of mind.
"Are you sure, Dancho? I think I've gotten pretty good with the pressure point technique. Nobu swore I cured the arthritis in his knee."
Kuroro glanced over at Shalnark, taking in the bright, shining eyes of a young man eager to dig his fingers into his boss's assumedly stiff and unyielding muscles, and decided that sometimes, being with the Ryodan for too long a period of time wasn't really that good a thing after all.
So, five weeks after finally returning to the Ryodan, Kuroro found himself climbing up the side of the building to Midoya's penthouse in a bid to escape the Ryodan.
As he paused on the ledge just below Midoya's penthouse, he idly scratched at the bandanna covering his tattoo and wondered if he should have called beforehand. He wasn't even sure she was in, or whether she would mind if he let himself in. Then, he remembered that he couldn't remember the last time Midoya had been unwelcoming to anybody climbing into her window. Reassured, Kuroro gripped the ledge of Midoya's window and vaulted over.
The next thing he knew, he was plummeting down the side of a fifty-storey building with a snarling woman glowing with Nen and wielding a bloodied machete attached to his chest.
Kuroro blinked in surprise as the sharp edge of the machete pressed against his throat and started to see-saw back and forth vigorously, drawing blood. "Midoya?" he questioned tentatively. Presumably, the woman glaring at him with wild eyes was Midoya. The last time he saw her, her eyes hadn't been completely made of silver and glowing red with Nen. She hadn't had steam coming out of her nostrils either. However, the strange woman attempting to saw into his neck had pretty bad acne, and Midoya was the only person he knew who lived in York Shin (the city of plastic surgeons and dermatologists) who had acne.
The snarling woman shuddered at the sound of her name, and the silver dissolved from her eyes to reveal black irises surrounded by bloodshot whites. "Kuroro?" she asked, startled, and then her face brightened up. "Kuroro!" she exclaimed, smiling pleasantly. "It's good to see you again! My, it has been a while. Oh, you let your hair down. How nice. I like this look on you." She beamed, an expression that, on her round, chubby cheeks, made her look either like the biggest baby ever or a serial killer.
"Indeed, it has been a while," Kuroro agreed, pleased that Midoya now resembled Midoya again, and that the machete had been removed from his throat. "I did not expect to see you again under such circumstances though."
"My apologies," Midoya told him, looking genuinely sorry. "It has been a rather stressful week."
"Believe me, I feel for you," Kuroro answered with equal sincerity. "What do you propose we do about our current situation?"
"Situation?" Midoya asked. Together, they stared at the rest of the world zooming past as they continued to drop towards their impending deaths on the concrete grounds of York Shin City. "My goodness Kuroro, I believe we are falling to our deaths," Midoya observed, without any real urgency in her voice.
"I agree with your most succinct observation."
"And your neck is bleeding. Why is your neck bleeding?"
"You were trying to saw my neck off."
"I was? My goodness, I have no idea what I was thinking. You know I like your neck a lot. It's a very nice neck; very useful for attaching your head to your shoulders too. This is shocking, absolutely shocking."
"Yes, it was quick a shock for me too. Fortunately it's not very deep."
"Indeed, it is fortunate that the cut isn't very deep. I do apologize for it still."
"It is not an issue," Kuroro told her generously. Casually, he materialized his book. "Since you have so kindly helped me regain the use of my nen, may I return the favour by saving our lives?"
"Please, do not let me stop you. In fact, I suggest you hurry up. The pavement is starting to invade my comfort zone, which is extremely unpleasant."
With a brief burst of Nen, Kuroro teleported them back into the penthouse. The world exploded back into vision once they were back on solid ground. No, not quite solid ground. When he shifted his feet slightly, Kuroro felt something squish beneath his shoes. Warily, he looked down and experienced a horrible sense of déjà vu. He looked up and took a long look around the penthouse.
In no way could Midoya be considered a neat person. Any place that she stays in for extended periods of time end up cluttered with books and makeup, her two greatest passions in the world. The floor and various pieces of furniture are used as shelves for books regardless of the original function of said furnishing. Still, despite all that, he had never in his life ever seen her floor littered with dead bodies before. Now, there were at least thirty bodies littered around the space of her penthouse. The smell of rot and blood that Kuroro had left the Ryodan to escape flooded his nostrils.
"This isn't your idea of indoor decoration, right?" Kuroro demanded with no small degree of anxiety.
"Indoor decoration? You mean the dead bodies? Goodness, no, of course not. I grew out of that phrase quite a few years back," Midoya replied, brushing her black slacks down. "Whatever made you say that?"
"Nothing," Kuroro replied, immensely relieved. "What happened here?"
The inexplicable happened. Midoya sighed. He had heard her sigh before, but not a genuine, weary sigh like that. It was like listening to Feitan being kind and understanding to babies. Never had an exhalation of air sounded so bizarre and foreign to his ears. "It's a rather long story," Midoya confessed. "Take a seat and I'll get you a drink. Is uh… I guess… is tea fine? I might have some… somewhere… in the kitchen… I think."
"Yes, that is fine," Kuroro said absent-mindedly, looking around the room and trying to find a chair that wasn't occupied by a dead body or various body parts. Midoya saw his hesitation and cheerfully kicked a body off the green loveseat, which was now brown and stiff with dried blood.
"Don't mind the corpses," she told him. "They were trying to kill me before they became corpses so feel free to treat them with all the disrespect they deserve." Then she disappeared into the kitchen, leaving him on the edge of her loveseat.
Shortly, she returned with two cups of tea. Kuroro took one cup, paused, cautiously dipped a finger in the liquid then raised his eyebrow at her. The muddy liquid in the cup, as his crude examination showed, was cool.
"Sorry," she said, looking embarrassed. "I haven't had time to put the kettle on. Hope you don't mind tap water."
"No, it is fine," Kuroro said and sipped the tea-flavoured water. Making a face, he put it aside for the unforeseeable future when a cup of nausea-inducing liquid is the only thing that stands between him and certain death. "But come now, Midoya, satisfy my curiosity. What happened here?"
He watched Midoya sip at her drink before she sighed again. "It's a long story and truthfully, I only have speculations to tell you, but I am actually fairly certain of my theory as to why this is happening to me," she replied looking weary. "You have heard that the position of Chairman of the Hunter's Association is now open for election?"
"Yes, I believe Shalnark, the intelligence expert in my Ryodan, has mentioned it." Kuroro paused to dredge up memories of the conversation that had been held while they had been busy shovelling piles of maggots out of the base. "I believed he mentioned that the elections are being held now, where all Hunters are nominees as well as voters?"
"Yes, that is the situation, in theory." Midoya adjusted her position on the couch, ignoring the severed foot next to her. "However, the thing about elections is, it is only fair to a certain degree. When it comes to voting, voters have a tendency to vote for someone they have already heard of in the first place. That means that people who were already in prominent positions of power or who have a great deal of media exposure tend to get more votes than ordinary everyday Hunters." She paused to continue drinking as Kuroro regarded her thoughtfully.
"And you are a very prominent Hunter," he said slowly. "I am not sure what position you hold in the Hunter's Association, but the last time we were there, I noticed people recognized you on sight. You are definitely well-known and powerful."
"Yes," she said then smiled wryly, leaving him to make the deductions himself. It really wasn't difficult.
"People are voting for you to be the Chairman. No, correction; a lot of people are voting for you to be the Chairman," Kuroro concluded, bemused and horrified. "Why would they want you to be the Chairman? There is nothing wrong with you as a Hunter, certainly. You are powerful, smart and disgustingly devious, but you function almost entirely on self-interest and you don't care what happens to the Association. You would let it run to ruin simply because you can't be bothered to deal with it. That's the worst sort of leader to have. Anyone with the slightest bit of common-sense can see that. Surely not everyone in the Hunter's Association is stupid?"
If he had said that to any other person, it would have been considered offensive. Midoya only burst into delighted laughter. "My goodness, I should hire you as my public relations manager!" she chuckled. "Yes, you are absolutely right. I would not make a good Chairman at all. However, people are voting for me, because they see me as a powerful Hunter who isn't part of the establishment, and who thus presumably has fewer political aspirations and greater sympathy for the common person."
"Fools," Kuroro declared, outraged and offended on her behalf.
"Take all that, plus the fact that I was Netero's disciple into consideration, and that means… a lot of supporters," she added with a shrug. "Anyway, you see the problem now."
"Indeed," Kuroro agreed. "The people who do want the position of Chairman must be very anxious to rid themselves of the competition."
"Correct," Midoya confirmed, finishing her drink. "Unfortunately, my position as a Hunter outside the establishment also leaves me open to attacks by other Hunters since I don't really have any powerful supporters backing me, especially now that Netero is dead. Are you aware that there is a law that prevents Hunters from attacking other Hunters unless that Hunter in question has done something terribly, terribly bad?"
"No, I wasn't. But then we don't really care either way in the Ryodan, so it is not something we would actually take note of."
"True," Midoya agreed. "Anyway, some of the Hunters you see here and the Hunters who masterminded the attack, whoever they are, have raised a number of charges against me that include murder, blackmail, robbery and indecent acts in public, and have thus listed me as a threat that must be eliminated. That this is taking place now of all times leads me to think that they are trying to get rid of me, and thus get rid of competition in the elections."
"They are framing you so they can eliminate you openly?"
"Framing me? Goodness, no, they aren't dumb enough to fake charges against me. It would destroy the entire association if it came out that members were using false charges against one of their own. No one would be able to trust anyone anymore, and open warfare between the various factions would surely break out. The status quo and thousands of civilian lives would be lost. It would be a massive disaster; a massive, fun disaster, yes, but as I have learned years ago, not everyone shares my idea of what fun is. I don't know why; war is absolutely hilarious. But no. No Hunter in their right mind would ever frame another Hunter, much less one as well-connected to the mafia as I am. The risks are too high. I am definitely guilty of all the charges they raised against me."
"Really?"
"Oh, definitely."
"Indecent acts in public?"
A playful smile flashed across Midoya's face. "In my defence, at that time I was very young and very unaware that the roof of the York Shin Parliament House is visible to anyone living on the twentieth floor and above," she replied with a wink. "Honestly, no one made a big deal of it at first. The videos that got leaked onto the Net even won awards in art shows, notably for the Best Nudes. That is rather odd to me since I wasn't, technically-speaking, nude. I was still wearing boots after all. People liked the boots apparently. It was considered selective nudity for the sake of art. No one seemed to realize I was wearing spiked boots and a whip for a reason." She paused and regarded the raised-eyebrow on Kuroro's face with a wicked smile. "No worries, I grew out of that phrase a long time ago, though I must admit, the prospect of putting you in a collar is quite… interesting. Ah, but I suspect your tastes don't run in that direction. You would probably prefer to don the boots and the whip than the collar and cuffs."
"I really can't say about the boots and the whip, but no collars please. I'm rather allergic to them. They tend to make me break out in extended bursts of violence. I must say though, my dearest Midoya, the things I learn about you would make a hardened resident of Meteor City blush." Kuroro watched her finish her drink. "So how long have you been the target of various assassination attempts?"
"A couple of days," Midoya said vaguely. "They came by with about a couple something thousand fighters and… I just finished cleaning them up. That was on Monday."
"So two days ago?"
"Apologies, I meant the Monday before."
"Ah. You have been waging a continuous battle for nine days. That explains you jumping off the building with me."
"Yes."
"And the cut on my throat."
"I apologize, once again, for that."
"It's still bleeding."
"Do I have to kiss it all better before you forgive me?"
"Hmm, only if you insist."
She did. Forty-five slippery and wet minutes later (including an awkward five minutes when Midoya had pulled off his coat, stared at the Nen beast still attached to his chest then asked how Kuroro proposed they work around that), Kuroro felt Midoya had done enough to gain his forgiveness, so he gently untangled their limbs so he could pull out the sharp object that was digging into his back. "Is it alright if I stay here for a couple of days?" he asked, staring at the severed finger in his hand. "I understand there are a lot of things happening in your life now, but I really need a break from the Ryodan."
"It is fine," Midoya murmured, arching her back contentedly. "If you don't mind the fact that my penthouse will be under attack until a Chairman is elected, I suppose you could stick around for a couple of days. Hopefully once a chairman is selected, the attacks will stop."
"Excellent," Kuroro beamed, pulling her into the crook of his arm. "If you like, I can think of a number of ways to boost the security of your windows. Shalnark was very fascinated with the Nen-field you had around the Kito mansion and spent much of his free time devising a portable version of it."
"Did he succeed? It took me quite a while to figure out how to store my Nen and convert it into a field. It was a terrible time, if I do say so myself. That Nen is so individualized and unstable makes it incredibly incompatible with technology. Fortunately, my Nen is as stubborn as I am, and the technology broke first, taking out five of my best scientists with it when it did. Vindictive little one, that."
"What a fascinating story. Well, in reply to your question, Shalnark did manage to come up with a little something. If he could solve the problem of it exploding after being left on for five minutes, it would make a very handy defensive device."
"Fantastic." Midoya stretched again then climbed out of his arms and started groping around for her top.
"Where are you going?" Kuroro asked, watching her get dressed interestedly. "It seems to me that you need to rest after nine days of continuous fighting. I strongly recommend resting on top of me. It's cold, I am freezing, and you are warm."
"You'll have to make do with a blanket. There is no rest for the wicked, dear Kuroro," Midoya replied cheerfully. "You may have noticed the dead bodies in my room."
"Indeed, I may have noticed the dead bodies. What about them?"
"I would like to get them cleaned up as soon as possible, preferably before the flies start to appear."
"You are definitely my type of girl," Kuroro told her with great feeling.
"You must explain your sudden aversion to dead bodies one day," she said, lips quirked in an amused, lop-sided smile.
"One day," Kuroro agreed reluctantly. Then a thought occurred to him. "How are you going to clean out the bodies?" he asked interestedly, "I assume you aren't just going to toss the bodies out of the window the same way you just toss your rubbish out the window?"
"Oh no, not at all. No one minds the pieces of tissue that fall over York Shin city once in a while. People think it's some rare mystical phenomenon that only occurs in this region and there are a group of scientists trying to figure out the reason behind it. I could solve it for them but I don't want to destroy their dreams of locating an alien civilization living in the clouds and sending cryptic messages to us. Anyway, it is one thing to have pieces of plastic and tissue fall from the sky; it's quite another to have dead bodies smattering all over the nice pavements. The poor scientists would be so devastated if the government decided to exterminate these aliens that are undoubtedly feasting on human flesh now. So rest assured, I am not going to toss the bodies out of the window. In fact, I am not going to clean up the bodies at all." Midoya went over to the lift and pressed a button. "One of the benefits of being a little rich girl is that I have other people to do jobs like this for me."
"Oh? Like who?"
"Like Lucy," Midoya replied, smiling widely.
"Lucy? Who's Lucy?" Kuroro asked, wondering if he should get up and put on some clothes if someone was coming up now.
And it was at that moment the lift dinged cheerfully and a monster walked in.
As the massive, wrinkled face that filled the entire entrance of the lift peered into the room, bloodshot eyes glaring around balefully, Kuroro climbed quickly off the loveseat, keeping a wary eye on the strange creature that filled the space of the lift.
There wasn't much he could see given the way the creature's face filled the entrance of the lift. As far as he could see, this creature had the face of an old hag, wrinkled and cruel, with a hooked nose and thin lips. Past that, he thought he caught a glimpse of a thick, sinewy neck and hunched shoulders. Then thin, bony, but powerful arms extended from the lift, gripping the sides of the lift to haul a hunched, emaciated body, dressed in a French maid uniform in.
"My lady," the creature gasped in a voice as dry and as dusty as a tomb, "you called?"
"Lucy dear," Midoya smiled warmly, ignoring Kuroro's questioning glances, "so good of you to come up here. Have you heard that I've been under attack here for nine days?"
"Yes," the creature, Lucy, rasped, "the doorman turned away those who came in through the front door. They weren't invited guests, you see."
"Ah, Julius is as reliable as always," Midoya said tenderly. "Anyway, my dear, as you can see, my room is a mess what with all these bodies and all. And, unfortunately, I also happen to have guests of an intimate nature, so if you could clean up the corpses and blood for me, I would be really grateful."
At that, the massive, bloodshot eyes turned towards Kuroro, giant yellow irises rotating eerily to focus on him. "Good day, sir," the creature said, giant head bobbing in a bow. "If I do say so myself, though a mere servant shouldn't be so forward, you are a lot better looking than my lady's previous boyfriends."
"Thank you," Kuroro replied; fairly politely too on the general basis that anyone who thought he was good-looking was probably a good person deep inside.
"Of course, I've never seen my lady's other boyfriends naked before, so my opinion might be skewed, if I may say so with all due respect, good sir."
"That is perfectly understandable," Kuroro replied shamelessly.
"I agree, sir. The cute little creature attached to your chest adds much to your attractiveness. I congratulate you on your excellent sense of fashion, good sir."
"Thank you," Kuroro responded a tad frostily. "You are very kind."
"Thank you good sir," Lucy grated, bowing again. "Madam, if I may start cleaning now…?"
"But of course," Midoya said cheerfully and started picking up Kuroro's clothes. "I suggest we go to my bedroom where there are no corpses, Kuroro."
"Why?" Kuroro asked out of habit, trying to locate his belt.
"Because…" Midoya stopped and her mouth twisted into a little moue of distaste. "The reason is behind you."
Warily, Kuroro glanced over his shoulder. Lucy was hunched over, massive face pressed to the ground. The undersized hands lifted the black dress and white frilly apron in a strangely prim gesture. Slowly, the gigantic face split in half as wide mouth opened, lined with sharp, long teeth. Then the hunched figure started to move forward, mouth wide open and…
"Right," Kuroro said firmly, pulling his belt from under the loveseat, "to the bedroom."
Laughing, Midoya followed him, closing the door of the bedroom behind her. "I'm so glad you are here, Kuroro. We are going to have such a good time together," she said happily. "This is going to be a fun, fun adventure."
A/N: Thanks for reading! The pace is a little slow, but it will pick up in the following chapters. I hope you enjoyed this chapter!
Trivial: All her life, Lucy had always been a gravely misunderstood girl. People always took one look at her grossly deformed shape and assumed she was a monster of some sort. Lucy had never believed she was a monster. Deep inside, she always felt she was the typical girl-next-door: wholesome, polite and pleasant in a rather bland way. Her biggest dream was to have a family, a husband to care for and children to nurture. She also wanted a dog, some nice, friendly breed, like a golden retriever or a border collie. She would live in the suburbs in a pleasant, well-kept house with a nice pool for the summers, and a flower garden. It would all be wonderful and peaceful and full of love if it could come true.
Unfortunately, she had never met a man before who could see through her physical deformities to the little girl next door inside. Fortunately, her second biggest dream did come true: being a maid in a building where she could eat as much as she liked. Lucy couldn't really complain after all. Miss Kito's apartment always had the most delicious morsels…
