title: horizon.
summary: She wondered how he could be an assassin when his hair stuck out so obviously.
pairing: canary x killua
chapter: 1. brume (a mist, or fog.)
disclaimer: I do not own Hunter x Hunter.
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"Here," Gotoh said, "one of the butlers made this for you."
He tossed her a staff, and Canary caught it. Her hands ran over the polished wood, and she looked at it with a mixture of both cautious scrutiny and curiosity.
It was dark black, with a round ball attached to one end. As Canary tested it, she was pleased to find that it was easy to swing despite her small stature, and that the tapered end fit nicely between her hands. It wasn't as familiar as the stick she used to carry, but it was a good replacement.
"...thanks," she said. Instead of giving her a knife to draw blood, they had given her a staff. A staff was used to beat people with, to injure more than to kill. Interesting. She was from Meteor City; she was no stranger to blood, and yet even as an apprentice butler to the Zoldyck family they did not want her to kill.
She thought about Gotoh's coins, and how they had punched a hole in a concrete building as easily as if it were a bullet, and wondered if perhaps someday she would have the same kind of ability.
Canary was fascinated. Never before had she seen trees so large, forests so big, or buildings that were not in ruin. She'd never worn something as nice as the suit she was wearing now, and she had never slept in anything as nice as a bed. She felt oddly out of place, and the weight of her new weapon comforted her somewhat. She always felt calmer with something in her hands. It was her one piece of familiarity in a completely different land.
Gotoh seemed to understand. He ruffled her hair somewhat affectionately (because really, Gotoh never displayed actual feelings of affection) and gestured her to the door.
"You're new, so the mistress has given you a few days to adjust, but you mustn't be idle. Tomorrow, she'll probably want to test you and your abilities. Take today to get used to your staff."
Tested. Canary had sort of expected a test of some sort, so she nodded, and excused herself behind a smile. She still felt strangely disoriented in her new surroundings. So far, the only people she had met were the other servants in the servants' headquarters, far away from the actual mansion.
She took a deep breath.
Always bow when you see one of the Zoldycks, she remembered the servants telling her sternly, you're new here, but you won't get any sympathy. Stand straight up when you speak. Accept orders without complaint or question. Do not speak until asked to do so. Always address them with utmost formality and politeness. You are a butler; a servant, and you cannot disobey orders. In time, you will learn each Zoldyck's name; even the youngest one is capable of killing you. You must stay hidden, but do not think that they do not know where you are.
She had only been here three days, but they had said she was a quick learner. Sucks up information and retains it like a sponge, they said. It must be because she's so young. She wasn't quite sure how she felt about that, but Gotoh seemed to understand.
"It's unimportant," he had told her, flipping a coin up and down casually, "I wouldn't have brought you here if I had expected anything less."
She looked up at the sky, which was grayer and icier than she was used to, and breathed deep. She smelled the rich tanginess of the forest floor and the scent of pine, of the wind ruffling the treetops and the shifting of leaves as they fluttered to the ground. Her hands found her staff, and Canary closed her eyes.
This was not her home.
Home was cracked ground and parched throats, was burning hot sun and the feeling of dust and decay wrapped around her like a blanket. Home was finding shade under abandoned vehicles and stealing bread from other people, of hiding in the shadows and breathing with her stomach, silently, so she wouldn't be noticed. Home was Meteor City, where she found comfort in her nonexistence and shared her nonexistence with others.
You are the one who wanted to leave. That was true. There was nothing left for her in Meteor City. She had been alone from the beginning.
Canary played with the staff in her hands, swinging it experimentally. The ball on the end was ideal for hitting others, so Canary spun the staff quickly, making sure she'd be able to control its rotation. It was similar to her stick, if she thought about it.
At the Zoldyck residence, everything was different. It was as if she had stepped into a completely different world.
But she would survive - I will survive, she told herself, grimly, smacking the ball end of her new staff into a training post, the reverberations of the impact making her arm a pleasant familiar numb, I will survive here and I will exist - and she would do anything to do so.
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The first glimpse of the Zoldyck family was just that - a glimpse.
There were five brothers, she had been told. There was one around her age - Killua-sama, they said, a prodigy indeed. His older brother Illumi-sama is overseeing his progress as an assassin.
White hair. That was the only thing she could tell. He was talking to his older brother, who had long black hair that reached down to his waist. The white-haired boy held a skateboard tucked casually under his arm.
The taller brother - Illumi-sama, the eldest - shrugged lightly, and walked away, as if the conversation had ended. Canary watched the younger boy with the white hair stand there for a moment, his posture deceptively loose for someone who was supposed to have been trained as an assassin from birth.
He stiffened. He turned his head, and looked at her.
She wasn't terrible surprised he had noticed her. She hadn't been trying to conceal her presence.
Smile and bow whenever one of them sees you. Hoping her momentary pause had gone unnoticed, Canary smiled, and clasped her hands around her staff as she bowed.
When she looked up again, dark ringlets swinging around her head, he had disappeared.
Brat.
But those eyes. Funny, Canary mused, his older brother's eyes were black.
But Killua's eyes. Killua-sama's eyes...
They had been blue.
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Let's see how good of an assassin you are, Killua-sama.
This time, she hid her presence. This time, she coiled her presence tightly inside of her, forcing herself to become something unnoticeable, a flicker of a shadow that could easily be mistaken for the shadow of a swaying tree. This time, her feet fell silently on the forest floor. It wasn't the same as Meteor City, but the basics were the same. She could still be invisible.
She found him sitting high in a tree, back turned to her. He was holding an apple. She approached carefully, and then bowed again, hands clasped around her staff behind her back.
Then, very carefully, she loosened the tight leash on her presence, and felt herself reappear. The boy stiffened once again, and turned to look at her. She straightened, and smiled again.
"...Did you need something?" he asked, and she was a little surprised at his voice. It was somewhat flat - bored, even - but it held enough interest that Canary found it within herself to smile once again.
"Just wanted to say hello, Killua-sama. I'm new here. My name is Canary, and I was hired as an apprentice butler while you were gone."
He was young, still a child. Canary found herself scrutinizing him discreetly, trying not to stare in a way that would be rude. He had silver-white hair, large and messy around his head, and it contrasted oddly against the bark of the tree. She wondered how he could be an assassin when his hair stuck out so obviously.
The boy appraised her with raised eyebrows, the interest in his wide blue eyes readily apparent. For a moment, Canary was stunned by the clarity of the blueness of his eyes, and how they reminded her of the skies in Meteor City. Up on the mountain, the sky was a perpetual shaded gray. It was (once again) a disorientating sensation.
"Don't be so formal," he said, offering the apple to her. "Just call me Killua."
"Impossible. While I appreciate the notion, I am a servant, and you are my employer, Killua-sama."
The faintest hint of disappointment crossed the boy's features, which surprised Canary, but he hid it well, glancing away with a huff as he retracted the apple. "...Lame," he said, without a single inflection in his tone. He glanced at his apple briefly, rotating it in his palm, and then took a bite.
Then he paused, eyes still closed. "You were using the Shadow Step, right?"
It was clever, the way he said it. He was so casual when speaking, it was as if he didn't want to give off the impression that he was genuinely curious.
Canary was confused by the question.
"Ahh," she said, frowning slightly, "perhaps it is just something I learned in Meteor City."
Killua's eyebrows rose, and he turned to look at her, bright blue eyes faintly surprised. "Meteor City?"
"My hometown," Canary told him, and it was hard to keep the longing out of her voice, although she kept her expression carefully controlled. "It's a city that's been erased from the map. You're allowed to dump anything there."
Killua hmmed, and then shrugged, turning away. "Never heard of it."
She bristled, although imperceptibly. Her lashes lowered, and Canary was glad her fingers were still clasped behind her back. He would not be able to see the way her fingers had tightened.
"It is very different from here, Killua-sama," was all she said in reply.
His unnerving blue gaze slid over to meet hers. Then he looked away again, rotating the apple in his palm thoughtfully. "I'd like to visit it sometime."
...Really? She couldn't help herself. "If- if you ever want to visit it," she said in response, weighting her words, trying not to show uncertainty, "I'd like to be your guide." A faint smile appeared on her face at the idea of returning home.
Then she remembered one of the other servant's words, even the youngest child is capable of killing you within seconds, and her smile faded.
The boy made another hmm noise, and slipped down from the tree, tossing the apple away. Canary followed his movements with thinly veiled curiosity, noting the way his feet landed on the forest floor, silently. Indeed, she realized, this Killua-sama was someone she could not possibly fathom. Just a boy, perhaps younger than her, and already his movements were so silent they would have rivaled even the most skilled people in Meteor City.
This was new. Canary typically did not interact with kids her age; even in Meteor City, she had been a loner.
A faint feeling of competitiveness appeared in her stomach, and she squashed it mercilessly. Capable of killing you within seconds, she reminded herself sternly.
A wide smile appeared on the boy - Killua-sama - 's face, and he took a few steps toward her.
"I'll show you something cool," he told her, grinning with the kind of smug arrogance only a privileged child would have.
Canary schooled her features into interest, although she was more confused than anything. Show absolute deference; you are a butler. Do not think of yourself as equal to any of them.
Killua cracked his neck, hands shoved into his pockets.
"This is the Rhythm Echo," he told her. And then he moved.
And Canary...
...Canary resisted the clenching, abrupt and unexpected impulse to kill Killua.
Because something about the way he walked, his footsteps now audible against the hard forest floor, the precise, practiced, controlled body movements - now Canary was seeing afterimages of Killua, until they surrounded her, simply from the way his body shifted, and god, how she held her body stiff, jaw set, eyes tracking Killua's afterimages, hands clenching unconsciously at her staff.
She had to admit, almost grudgingly, that the butlers were not exaggerating. Killua was definitely of assassin-birth. Everything - from the way his eyes had flicked down to her, from the way he slipped down from the tree, his every movement, the way he breathed, to this, right now, as he walked so casually and yet created afterimage after afterimage, screamed assassin.
Even the youngest one is capable of killing you within seconds. All of a sudden, Canary was more interested in the Zoldyck family, and Killua in particular. All of a sudden, this rule held more weight.
She had never killed before. In Meteor City, she had been a scavenger, not a hunter. But Killua...Killua was a trained assassin from birth. He killed for a living.
And this frightened her. It preyed on every single instinct she had. Because if this had been Meteor City, Killua was a threat, and when it came to threats, the first impulse was to eliminate it. Except this was Kukuroo Mountain, and she was so far away from her beloved home, and the guidelines she had lived by all her life simply did not apply here.
Killua stopped, seemingly oblivious to her discomfort. "It uses the Shadow Step," he explained, "You move your body at a certain rhythm to create afterimages."
Hmm. Canary nodded slightly, and then her eyes narrowed at a prickling against her mind.
She felt people, far off in the distance, and she let her body language betray her, tensing as she took count of the many approaching presences.
This time, Killua noticed her unease, his eyebrows rising, and gave her a noncommittal shrug. "Let Mike handle it," he told her, seemingly unworried.
Canary simply smiled, and shook her head.
"Mike has been ordered to be restrained today," she told him. "This is a test for me. An apprentice butler must prove herself worthy, of course."
Understanding crossed Killua's features, and then an unexpected smile appeared on his face.
"Okay," he said simply.
Canary bowed deeply, and once again when she looked up he had gone.
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60. 70. No, more than that. 90, perhaps 100?
All of a sudden, Canary was worried. She wasn't very accustomed to her new weapon, no matter how well it felt in her hand. She had never truly fought with it before, and so as she stood in front of the property gate and faced down the large group of people, the faint feelings of nervousness begin digging in her stomach.
She was reciting protocol to the large group, the memorized words flowing easily from her lips with a self-assurance she only partially felt. Indeed, the odds were against her. She was small, and this group seemed to be composed of older men who were obviously accustomed to fights. It was one against a hundred.
But in the end...Canary's grip tightened on her staff, and she glanced down at the line that marked the area between the household property and the forest. One gate. One line. All she had to do was ensure that no one passed.
These men were strong. They knew how to fight; knew how to attack in groups. One of the boss's lackeys gave a resounding cry, and the group charged, each brandishing their own weapon.
Defend the line. Make sure no one passes.
Canary inhaled.
She had never really been much of a fighter. She'd been more of a hider, someone who sneaked their way around and was never noticed. But she knew how to defend herself, and she knew how to fight against bigger opponents. And she had spent enough time at the servant's residence to understand that some things...some things, no matter where you were, would remain the same.
Just like Meteor City...there is no mercy here.
Exhaled.
...okay, she thought. Defend the line.
The staff spun in her hand, and the moment the first man stepped over the line, she whacked the ball end of the staff into his forehead, throwing him back.
These people were experienced, but they lacked delicacy. Every movement was sluggish and heavy, graceless. Canary spun the staff in her head again, realizing how clever the other butlers were for giving her this kind of weapon, and easily dispatched of the other two men. They thudded to the ground well outside the line.
Centrifugal force. Canary was strong; she knew that. But by spinning the staff, she could easily gather more force and deliver blows that could knock out a grown man with a single hit.
"Bitch!" one of the men snarled.
Come at me, she thought in her head, and knew that despite her serious expression the knot of nervousness inside her stomach had disappeared.
These men.
They absolutely could not compare to Killua.
Do not let them pass.
Canary let a brief smile flash across her face, felt her expression smooth back over into a stoic mask, and wondered if perhaps Killua was watching.
...easy.
It was a blur of movements from there, simple ducking and careful footwork. Dislodge the weapons, then disable them through a well-placed blow. She didn't hit hard enough to kill, but she hit hard enough to knock them unconscious. Soon she was facing against the boss himself, staff pressed against his two large swords.
"Give up," she told him, her voice smooth. "This is futile and you know it."
He roared, and swung his swords once again. She ducked a swing and sidestepped a messy thrust, and kept her grip firm around her staff.
Her staff met his swords once again, and Canary was pleased to find that her new weapon was surprisingly sturdy against sharp blades, despite feeling as light as wood. She pushed him back, and the tall man let out a noise of frustration. He crossed his arms, and two smaller knives exploded from the hilts of his blades.
Canary spun her staff, eyes narrowing, and batted the two away with two sharp movements. Well, she admitted to herself, faintly surprised, at the very least, I wasn't expecting that.
"I told you," she said, meeting his swords again with her staff, an unexpected surge of irritation inside her stomach, "give it up. How can you expect to be a match for the Zoldycks when you can't even beat an apprentice butler?"
The boss was sweating, an intense frown on his face. Not long now, Canary decided, noticing the way his muscles shook from exertion. Not long until she would find an opening, and strike.
Then he grinned, and opened his mouth to reveal two sharp blades.
Ugh! Canary vaulted away, her staff swung sharply to deflect the first blade, the impact sending shudders through her arm, and gritted her teeth as the other sank deep into her shoulder. She landed in a crouch on the ground, wincing as her injured arm braced against the ground for support. The sharp blade stung, and she could feel the blood welling out of the puncture wound.
The man in front of her straightened, laughing. Canary ignored him and focused on her wound.
Breathe, she told herself. You can continue. It's just the upper arm.
With a faint wince, she plucked the blade from her arm. It slid out fairly easily, and she tossed it aside, feeling her muscle spasm as it readjusted to the sharp pain.
Breathe, she repeated in her head, and even though the blade had sunk in deep it was a clean wound, one that would heal easily. This would not be her first injury. She could take it.
The man was talking. She ignored him.
Canary inhaled, eyes fluttering shut, and exhaled once more, her expression grim.
If Killua's watching...she thought almost absentmindedly, hand gripping at her staff, I suppose he'll be a little angry with me.
"...so, you little bitch, hurry up and die!"
"This is the Rhythm Echo."
She had no similar fancy name for such a thing.
Carefully, Canary relaxed her breathing, and began to walk.
Every step at a perfect tempo. Every shift of the feet, of the shoulder; every movement had to be the exact same. Wobble, and the afterimage will disappear. Twitch, and the illusion will be broken. It was a careful mixture of concealing one's presence and controlling one's body as precisely as possible.
Killua had been a little misinformed. This Rhythm Echo of his was never a uniquely assassin trademark.
Canary had always, always been good at being unnoticed. To walk without a sound was something she had learned a long time ago. And if it was to move in a certain rhythm, in order to leave a faint afterimage to confuse anyone who might have seen her...well.
...easy.
The boss was confused; looking at past-herselfs that simply weren't there anymore. Canary took the opportunity to strike. She whacked him fiercely in the stomach and then kneed him from behind, making it seem as if the Hunter was being attacked from multiple directions. She dodged a clumsy swing, stabbed the tapered end of the staff sharply into the Hunter's gut, and then slammed the ball end of the staff into the Hunter's face.
She schooled her features into a mask of impassivity as the man thudded unconsciously to the ground, and breathed a faint sigh of relief.
...A hundred men, defeated. She readjusted her grip on her staff, faintly perturbed. In her life, she had never been ordered to so ruthlessly take down such a large number of people. But at the very least, it proved what she was capable of. The faint stirrings of elation swept up from her stomach to her chest.
If this was a test, she thought, with a mixture of both darkness and triumph, I passed it.
"Zebro-san," she said.
The large man emerged from the trees, an amicable smile on his face. "Oh," he said, his voice friendly, "you noticed."
Of course I noticed. Canary knew how to hide herself; knew how to conceal her presence so thoroughly that even watchful people paid her no attention. And that was why she was so hyper-aware of other presences.
"Can you clean up here?" she asked, ignoring the pain in her shoulder. She would have to get it dressed later in the butler's residence.
Two behind me. I don't know who, but perhaps they are two other butlers or some other members of the Zoldyck family. One above me, hiding in the trees, another person I don't recognize. Gotoh is here too, but he is farther away, probably from a safe vantage point where he can see everything, she thought, taking a few steps back as a great beast stepped out of the trees, his large dangerous paws leaving faint indents in the ground.
"Mike will take care of these people here," Zebro was saying. "Good job today, Canary-chan."
And then one person, hiding to my left, crouched low to the ground. He is being very, very careful.
...Killua.
So he had been watching. During the fight, she had too preoccupied to really search for surrounding presences, only identifying Zebro-san, who she was familiar with, and the faintness of Gotoh some distance away. She had felt the others, but had disregarded them in favor of focusing more on the match.
Canary bowed low, none of her unease showing on her face, and retreated.
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Canary was a little surprised when Killua appeared by her side, sliding so easily into step with her that she almost didn't notice. She turned to look at him. He was shorter than her, she noticed, although not by much.
"...you already knew the Rhythm Echo." It was not a question, and sounded more like an accusation.
Canary looked away, swallowing uneasily. "...yes," she admitted, "I'm sorry, Killua-sama."
He glanced at her briefly.
"You think you're stronger than me," Killua said.
She fought the smile that threatened to appear on her face, and she settled for lowering her lashes, eyebrows lifting slightly. "Of course not, Killua-sama."
"Tch," was all he said in response, and there was something in his voice that surprised Canary. Something like...something like...approval.
"Anyways," Killua said nonchalantly, shifting his grip on his skateboard, "there's no one else my age here, I don't have anyone to play with. Wanna be friends, Canary?"
Canary could not hide the surprise on her face.
Killua...
And then, mortifyingly, she felt her cheeks heat up. Oh my god, she thought, unable to process for a moment, he thinks I'm good enough to be his friend. Stop blushing, you idiot. It's embarrassing.
Somehow she had forgotten that Killua was still a child, just like her. Somehow she had forgotten that despite growing up as an assassin in an assassin household, maybe, just like her, he had never really had any friends either. And was that...was he blushing, too?
Wanna...be friends?
"I..."
And then her voice cut off, and the smile that had been threatening to appear on her face disappeared instantly.
...no.
Canary had always been good at sensing other people.
...please.
"...Impossible, Killua-sama," she told him, her heart plummeting, and if he hadn't been struggling to smooth his expression into one of apathy and nonchalance he would have caught the faint flicker of desperation in her face.
Because she was only an apprentice butler, simply a servant, and she had her part to play, and right now she could not risk her feelings, because there was someone watching this exchange. They were cleverly hidden; so cleverly hidden that even Killua didn't notice.
But Canary...Canary had always been good at this kind of thing. She had always been good at noticing people.
She dared. She turned her head just the barest fraction, eyes sliding to her right, fighting to keep her warring emotions off her face.
There. Hidden in the bushes. One person, female. Watching.
"...Lame," Killua finally said, but the smile had disappeared from his face. And then, before Canary could bring herself to speak, he had run off.
And Canary watched him go, struggling to keep the hurt from showing on her face, because that person was still watching, and told herself that this was okay. She told herself that this was okay, it was okay if they weren't friends, because they really weren't supposed to be. Killua lived in a completely different world from her; he was from a famous family who would probably inherit the assassin household, and she was...she was nobody, really.
And no one would notice, not unless they were looking very carefully. Nobody would notice how hard she was clenching her staff, how white her knuckles were. Nobody would notice the barely discernible trembles in her arms as she stopped walking, her breathing forcibly even, her expression blank. Her dark black ringlets swung in front of her face to hide her eyes.
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Truly, Canary mused, somewhat despairingly, there was one thing on Kukuroo Mountain that had not changed from Meteor City.
There is no mercy here.
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Herein ends all that Canon stuff. Woohoo! I kind of took my own spin on things, mainly because Canary has never quite struck me as the type of person who will be so perfectly adjusted to the mannerisms of a butler, apprentice or not. There's something rough in her yet.
The ball will now start rolling.
Feel free to drop a review- it'd be greatly appreciated!