EXPERIMENTS

A Hunter Fanfic by Yomi

Chapter Two


Summary:
A chance meeting with a mentor from his past gives Illumi an opportunity to experience living a normal life and learn something his mentor believed all children are entitled to know.
Rating: T
Disclaimer: Hunter x Hunter is copyrighted by Yoshihiro Togashi, Shounen Jump Weekly, Shueisha and Nippon Animation

Ten Hours Ago

The groceries were bulging in the brown paper bags and almost overflowed, forcing Illumi to peer between the tops of the celery and bread sticks to find the swinging gate.

It was dusk, the sun a blazing ball of red sinking into the horizon tainting the clouds pink and orange and purple. Illumi had just returned from a week's tour through the neighbouring villages and decided to do some shopping before he returned home. He walked down the front path with growing unease as he noticed the long shadow thrown by his front door left ajar.

He deliberated between discarding his goods or taking it into the house with him. Letting his old assassin paranoia get the better of him, he prepared for the worst and carefully set down his groceries by the doorstep and silently stepped into a dark house, pins at the ready in his free hand.

All the curtains had been drawn tightly shut, forcing gloom to descend upon his home. The moment he stepped in, the all too familiar metallic tang of blood hit his nostrils and his stomach knotted in dread. His eyes immediately adjusted to nocturnal vision, allowing him to effortlessly scan the rooms and pick up the details with ease.

There was no sign of struggle, no overturned furniture or broken walls, only one body lying on his side on his lounge room floor. Illumi cleared out the rest of his house, pulled aside the curtains to allow the golden-orange light in and bathe Ritteneur's dead body like a funeral pyre.

It was undeniably Silva's work. He could remove someone's heart without so much as a drop of blood, but he had deliberately made this a bloody mess to make a point.

Illumi knelt in the pool of blood beside the body, not caring that the thick viscous liquid seeped into the fibres of his clothing as he reached out with a trembling white hand to close those misted green eyes.

A thousand questions bombarded his mind. Why didn't he defend himself? Did he want to run, only that he didn't have the chance? What was he feeling at the time? Did he know who his attacker was? Did he know this day would eventually come? Was there anything he wanted to say to him before he died?

Did he ever regret living with a Zoldick?

Unable to cope with the burgeoning pressure in his skull, Illumi staggered backwards and collapsed into the couch. Something wet trickled down his face, one drop after another, and it took him a minute to realize he was crying.

He stared at the clear droplets that splattered into his calloused palms as if they were a precious miracle. He had cried once in the past. He was four, and Mike returned from training, a changed dog. He obediently heeded all commands, but he no longer curiously sniffed at Illumi's clothing, stick his cold nose in his small hands hoping to lick away some crumbs leftover from lunch and no longer pounced on Illumi when Silva had his back turned and laved Illumi's gleeful expression with saliva.

When Mike stared at him with glazed yellow eyes starved of a soul, sitting on his haunches awaiting his next command, Illumi wordlessly retreated to his room and silently cried himself to sleep.

He shut his eyes and bought his legs up to his chest, huddling into a ball and rested his forehead on his blood-soaked knees. His splintering headache blocked out the sounds of his wretched sobs and he gradually lost track of time.

His phone rang some time later and he broke out of his stupor long enough to grope for the device in his pocket and see the identity of the incoming caller on the luminous screen. The glare of the light stung his eyes and he realized that night had descended as the room was captured in pitch-black silence.

"Yes mother?"

There was a prolonged silence. Did his mother not expect him to pick up? Or was there something in his voice which gave her pause for concern?

"Your father is going to meet up with you tomorrow morning. There's a new job."

His eyes were droopy; he recognized it as fatigue and stifled a yawn. "Understood."

"Illumi…"

"Yes mother?"

Again, there was another pregnant pause that made him feel uncomfortable and irritated.

"Don't be late," Kikyou finally snapped before hanging up.

Illumi slipped the phone back into the back pocket of his trousers and allowed himself a few hours rest.

He roused during the last minutes of twilight and stretched. Each muscle and joint screeched in pain but that was casually ignored. He went into the bathroom and had a shower, washing away the blood that had dried and caked overnight, and changed into a fresh set of clothes. Then he went to the kitchen and decided he wasn't hungry.

Instead, he turned the gas taps on full and retreated back into the lounge room where he spared Ritteneur's body one last glance. He couldn't remember a time when, in his many years in the business of assassination, the sight of a cadaver made him feel violently ill.

The smell of gas was thick in the air and he exited the house by the back door. When he was at a safe distance, he activated the pins that he left scattered on the coffee table, setting them alight, and the house exploded into a furious, vengeful ball of flame.