FOREWORD: writing a fan fic based on someone else's works calls for a proper disclaimer. The only thing I own here is the story and the other characters not found in the series Hunter x Hunter. That said, you may now read the fanfic proper)


It was getting late; so late that it was early. Spots of dark shades of cobalt blue bruised the dark sky. Illumi leapt from one building to another, carrying the sleeping healer on his arms. He has to move faster, if the healer is correct, she shouldn't be spotted by anyone. She literally looked like a baby in his arms. Her body wrapped in a makeshift bundle of oversized white shirts with only the shape of her face visible.

He grinned at his handiwork. He originally wanted to use his pins on her to change her appearance. He stuck a pin on her experimentally but removed it after seeing the way her muscles distorted. He had never been so repulsed seeing how her features contorted and removed the pin immediately. Wrapping her in a bundle of clothes is the next best thing except it will draw unnecessary attention towards them.

But what the hell. It's the dead of the night, if he moved fast enough no one would even see a trace of his shadow, much less the person he's carrying.


He propped his chin on his hand as he rested his elbows over what the window and down to the girl standing stoically under the rain.

The distance between where he's standing and the pavement is about fifty feet, an almost accurate estimation. How she managed to not die from the previous jump is beyond him, then again, she did kill five, undoubtedly ten if he hadn't finished the fight for her, people a few minutes ago using only brute force.

To him, it looked like she was dancing playfully to an incredibly fast symphony; the only problem was that her partners kept looking at their feet and can't keep up. Unable to lead her, she discards them. He was beginning to wonder if being in an abandoned building with a potential enemy is yet one of the effects of major blood loss. Damn, that list is getting long.

He replayed the scenes in his head as he stared at her languid figure. Her body seemed like a good façade to hide her abilities. She definitely looked weak. Her small frame looks hardly a personification of battle, so unlike Killua, who even at his current height has muscles that boast vigorous training. She had none, not any that he has seen so far at least. Her physique sure betrayed him. The way she flung her opponents as if they were made out of paper made him chuckle.

Her techniques looked both smooth and lazy, reminding him of days when he just want to get things over with and proceed. He liked her rather languid movements, how her eyes remained closed during the battle.

The previous clash did answer some of his questions. Oh wait no it was hardly a clash, seeing that none of the intruders lived two seconds after being touched by her. So she can fight and kill. To what extent though? Just how strong is she? The conflict earlier didn't exactly prove anything. It looked like she can do more but it didn't look like she has an art form either. It was as if she was moving on instinct. A natural. She was incredibly fast too. Her movements almost a blur as she removed the head of one of the attackers. Pretty sure that he would not have been able to see what she has done if he didn't pay attention. He could still remember her face as she fought. She looked like she was doing everything in autopilot; as if she has been doing it time and again she could do it with her eyes closed. She didn't look like she was enjoying it. Her eyes looked dead, the light it contained when she talked to him previously gone as if someone else was taking over her.

He looked at her ghostly figure, idly fiddling with a pin on his fingers, contemplating if he should kill her right there and then. She would be a terrible, terrible thing to waste he thought. She's just standing there, head turned towards the sky, unmoving, serene, letting the rain wash out the blood off her clothes. It looked like she could be trapped in that state, forever undisturbed.

Her eyes opened slowly and then her head turned towards his direction. She changed her stance and then leapt up to the window next to his. Falling down is one thing, leaping 50 feet up and into her current position like it was nothing is another. And there she sat, wringing her hair and clothes.

Her clothes sloshed to the ground as she started to make her way back to the darkness. She looked like a wet doll, her wet clothes clinging to her body.

"I can't get it all to come off" she groaned.

He could feel another blanket of silence preparing to loom over them, he stopped her. He was never really the silent one as people often thought he is. He's not socially awkward, mind you. In fact, once you get past his incredibly intimidating façade and the fact that he could kill anyone in less than a second and then muster up enough courage to talk to him you'd find that he's actually good in conversation. It was both unfortunate and fortunate for the young assassin to not have anyone to just simply talk to. For one, he couldn't care less if people wanted to avoid him. It was always easier that way. Then again, this made things difficult for him whenever he's interrogating someone.

He wanted to talk and have someone respond to him not cower in fear. It's so unusual to find people who'd actually talk to him. Having only a deranged magician for conversation made him all the more eager to jump at every chance he could get. To him, she was a rare find, never mind that he knows almost nothing about her. It's raining, he's stuck in a building, and he's bored. What are you going to do about it?

"Why did you kill them?" he asked nonchalantly for the sake of conversation. Although her affairs are none of his business, her situation is quite intriguing.

"I got cut by a sword once, I didn't like it. Since then I've been doing my best to not get hurt physically. That and I like my body in one piece" she said, her hands gesturing her body animatedly.

The look from the man's eyes told her he wasn't satisfied with the answer she gave him.

And then she looked at him apologetically "I'm sorry. This isn't exactly a nice sleeping environment. You could move into another building if you'd like once the rain stops" she said with an embarrassed smile, effectively changing the subject.

"It doesn't look like it would stop anytime soon, though" Illumi replied. The rain poured exponentially harder after his reply garnering an incredulous look from the girl.

"We could vacate to another floor. I don't know about you but I don't think I could get some shut eye with the smell of all these dead bodies around me. "

Without warning she took him by the wrists shocking him momentarily by the sudden physical closeness, and led him to the darkness, feeling around as she did since using their eyes are pointless, pausing at random to kick away more dead bodies and then stopping at what felt as the stairs.

The upper floor seemed clear of dead bodies since there was no smell of blood or decay in the air. Letting go of his hand, he sensed her make her way towards the nearest window and followed her.

She sat leaning on the wall and hugging her knees, her head buried down. For a moment, it looked like she's shutting everything out, clearing her head. He sat a good foot beside her and then she inched closer, her complete disregard for personal space startling him for a few seconds.

"I'm playing a game" her voice was so soft — it was barely audible, but something about it made you want to lean in and listen to what she had to say. It was like a whisper that promised you secrets.

"And I can't lose. The rules are simple if I don't get caught I win otherwise I lose."

He was silent, letting her continue.

"I figured, if I kill them it'd still count, and I'll win." Her eyes started to look back into the empty expanse.

"And it's so I could see Mother again…" there was a hint of weariness that seemed to hung on the air around her. All the strength her body proudly boasted gone with the wind.

Her voice was so quiet and so hollow that she could have been a hundred feet away, or maybe even on the other side of the world.

"How long have you been running?" for a moment he thought she wouldn't answer. The question seemed to drift in the air, it's syllables slowly evaporating.

"A couple of weeks, I think. I can't really remember…" she said with a weak smile

"Aren't you going to sleep?"

She looked at him as if the thought hadn't crossed her mind, as if sleeping was out of the question and then replied "I can't there would be more of them in an hour or so..."and then she yawned and added" at least as soon as they realize the people they sent are already dead."

They? Well they're not doing a pretty good job trying to kill you, Illumi thought.

And then she hid her face again. For awhile, Illumi thought she was just letting the silence drone on that was until she started slowly falling to her side. He smirked so much for not sleeping.

He scanned her. She looked too tired for someone so young. Her deep breaths made it looked like her body was yearning for a break. The circles under her eyes are so black it could have been bruises. She looked so defenseless. Where had all the strength from earlier gone to? Could he really be staring at the same person? She just looked so… defenseless. She hardly looked comfortable, sleeping on the hard floor and still in her wet clothes. She must've been really worn-out if she could sleep in that state. He can't feel any aura radiating from her again, if he closed his eyes he'd probably determine that he was alone.

He shifted uncomfortably, finally aware of the cell phone in his back pocket. Why it had completely slipped his mind is beyond him, yet another thing to blame on blood loss. He flipped it open checking for messages and the time. It read 2:35 am. Bored beyond his wits, he turned on the phone's flash light and started to explore the floor. He squinted a bit, letting his eyes adjust to the light. He reached what he determined as the center of the room, only then realizing that the light from his phone can only cover a good four inches around him.

He looked back, the girl and everything else around him masked by black save for the parts near the window although those too are almost invisible.

What could he possibly accomplish by wandering aimlessly in the dark like this? Ah. Well, he could go check where the girl got the shirts. He easily found the stairs, going down two steps at a time.

The lower floor was even bloodier than he imagined. He randomly stepped on the heads of the corpses, crushing them in the process, as he wandered around the room. He stopped for a bit, extending his hand while holding the phone intending to cover more ground with light and then started walking again. It was like that for awhile. He almost reached a corner when he saw a cardboard box in front of him.

He knelt down, set his phone on the ground, and opened the box finding three white shirts with varying words on them piled on top of each other, confirming that the box belongs to the girl. He couldn't fathom why he placed her belongings in such an inconvenient location. He picked up the shirts folding them neatly on top of the other, careful to not set them on the dirty concrete. She clearly needed a change of clothes. He was folding the last of the shirts when a black plastic card fell from it. He picked it up. He examined it. Other than the gold line across it, it was plain. Immediately losing interest, he placed it on his back pocket and proceeded to folding the last shirt.

He was almost done when his head snapped up at the sound of footsteps that came from the upper floor. He closed his phone, tucked the shirts under his arm, and made for the stairs with haste. Fast and confident as if he could see in the darkness Illumi went forward. He crept up silently to the upper floor. He could tell from the aura emitted by the intruders that there are thirty people in the room apart from the girl and himself.

His eyes darted towards the figure on the window carrying the limp girl in his arms. He soundlessly threw a pin at the nape of the figure paralyzing him effectively.

He identified the one emitting the strongest nen first, and sent a pin flying to him next.


Migure furrowed his brows in disbelief and thought that the higher-ups were too paranoid to insist on sending thirty men after a girl, a sleeping, unarmed, frail looking girl at that. Apparently, he was right. It took them no cinch finding her, and they're now about to go back to base. This assignment is a complete walk in the park and they're going to finish in record time to boot.

It was weird how the ones sent earlier haven't come back yet. Maybe they ditched their job, figured it was too easy for their liking. That must be it. The first group is known to slack off on jobs anyway. He couldn't wait to see how his superiors would scold the initial troupe. That'd sure be a fun thing to watch.

He wanted to get the whole thing over with as he looked around nervously. He was more afraid of having Orube on his team more than anything else. The man had an extremely bad temper and a worse habit of beating up his own teammates in more than one occasion especially when nothing particularly eventful happens. He was the only living witness in one of Orube's sudden fits of violence. Migure is convinced that his superiors only let him get away with it because the man is just so damn strong. He bet all his money that Orube's expecting a pretty good fight given the number of people sent. He looked at the heavily built man's face, a look of disappointment clearly shown in his eyes. Oh no. This night's going to turn out pretty bad for them if he doesn't do something fast.

"Hey what's with the hold-up man?" he shouted towards Grabo "Let's wrap this up quick! I still have to go home and tape Grey's anatomy for my wife!"

"Shut up you pansy!" Grabo teased "Aren't you the wife? At the rate you're going you might as well let her lead us." Migure didn't like how he's holding the girl one bit. He was holding her inappropriately, violating her. He was only thankful the girl was sleeping and wasn't struggling. Grabo liked it when girls struggled; it gave him more reason and room for creativity. The girl slept like a log. Seriously? How can anyone stand being held like that? His averted his gaze in disgust as Grabo's hands strayed to the more sensitive areas of the girl before preparing to leave.

What did he do to deserve to work with such despicable men? He rubbed his temples in an attempt to ease himself. He consoled himself with the fact that at least a good percent of the group is relatively acceptable. Sure there's Jiggy, who despite his unhealthy obsession with inanimate figures, never hurt or killed anyone without good reason, and Yngwie who went in the asylum for killing a hundred men because of the floating women behind them kept on bad mouthing him has been rehabilitated and haven't killed that large a number for six months, and Creighton who did his best to keep his fascination with dead bodies and the fun things he could do to them to himself.

Okay, so it not exactly the best group in the entirety of squad 257 but it had to do. He inhaled deeply, massaged his temples, and repeated the mantra work is work in his head. Forcing himself to think of what he could buy with the huge-ass payment instead and handing a re-assignment request letter first thing in the morning. Still, what's the catch? Maybe it's because they have Orube in their team. Having him around meant a good difference between life and death.

He looked at the girl in Grabo's arms. What could his superiors want from her? Taking her like this somehow didn't look right in his eyes. He shook his head. Work is work. Work is work, repeating the mantra more fervently this time. He couldn't afford to let his conscience get the better of him.

"Move it already!" Migure commanded.

"Okay, okay. Don't get your panties in a knot. It's not much fun playing with someone sleeping anyway." Grabo responded setting his foot on the window sill preparing to move out.

Grabo froze. He couldn't will his body to move. He felt his muscles stiffen turning into stone. His eyes grew wide in terror. He tried his best to scream in panic but his jaw wouldn't budge. He tried to look behind him but he couldn't move his neck. Shit. How can that son of a bitch not notice him! Help damn it! Help!

Migure sighed in relief, looks like they'd be able to get out of this peacefully after all. To his extreme annoyance, Grabo stopped in his tracks, posing like Tarzan carrying Jane.

"Damn it, quit playing already." He was so ready to snatch Grabo's arm when Jiggy let out an earsplitting scream followed by the sounds of crunching bones later. Looks like Orube couldn't contain himself anymore. He brought a palm on his forehead and leaned on the wall. It's useless running now. Running away meant having a deranged Orube coming after you like a mad dog and under in no circumstance would he want that. Besides, if he stood close to the target, he wouldn't attack him. Despite his thirst for blood, Orube still has enough logic in him to follow orders.

He watched the rest of his men gang up on Orube, not like that'll do much. The whole thing should be over in two to five minutes give or take. He prayed real hard that twenty eight dead men are enough to satisfy Orube's hunger. Migure was almost tempted closed his eyes after a good ten died. Watching Orube work isn't the prettiest sight in the planet but he didn't. Just because he was spared that one time doesn't mean he'd let him go now.

A good sum of cussing, screams, and gore followed.

"Come on, man. I think that's enough for the night." It took Migure his all to keep his voice from shaking and tried to play it cool. That's what you do with animals, right? Keep your cool and show them whose boss. Don't let them smell your fear. Except nothing he could do can ever stop the monster from turning towards him.

It was too late for Migure when he realized that he wasn't dealing with a rational Orube anymore. Orube's eyes aren't filled with anything, not even a trace of blood lust. His eyes are blank and his mouth hung open. If this is what a zombie looks like, then the chances of him making it out alive plunged down to a negative thousand. He still had to try though. He almost made it out the window when he was pulled back by Orube, he was holding Migure on the opposite ends, his massive left hand on the man's shoulders and the right on the waist, and with a sickening crack his spine and the skin tearing, Migure's body was torn in half, snapping the living daylight out of him.


Illumi emerged from his hiding place. It was a lot easier than he thought. He didn't even have to exert much effort either. Watching the fools kill each other was entertaining. He commended himself for saving not killing the pervert yet. The man's actions repulsed him beyond belief. Taking advantage of an unconscious person is something he greatly frowns upon. It was low and revolting. He compelled himself to not rip the bastard's head off, telling himself that what he had to offer will be a lot more terrifying, and that a quick death wouldn't do his host any justice.

He removed the girl from the man's arms, irked and amused that she slept during the whole ordeal. He laid her gently on the floor and then stood beside the man, aware that the son of a bitch can hear and see him.

"Want to do something fun, yeah? Plunging seventy feet to the ground is fun."

Grabo's eyes grew even wider in fear. Unable to see the owner of the cold voice only added to his terror. He really is as hard as stone now. He looked down, one wrong move and could send him plummeting down to his death.

"Happy trails." Illumi whispered, his voice light and frightening, and pushed the man off the window. That's a pretty long fall; it should be long enough to torment him and long enough for the bastard to repent. Still, he could've made him suffer more. Now that that's done, he tucked his hair behind his ear.

"What am I going to do with you?" he said with a resigned voice. He left her alone for a few minutes and this is what happens.

He took one of the three shirts and started drying out the girl's hair. It was dark enough for him to barely see her. That was okay. He felt around, tenderly removing bits of rock and dirt caught in it tangles. No wonder she couldn't sleep, the minute she brings her defenses down her enemies come running. Done with her hair, he took off her still wet oversized shirt and started patting her body dry. He was almost embarrassed to do this, almost. Silently thanking the lightless state they're in. He fondly recalled how he used to do the exact same thing to Kalluto and Killua when they were barely over a year old, when their parents are never around and they were left to their own devices. He pulled a shirt over her head and easily pulled out her arms out of the proper holes. Properly dressed, well as proper as her clothes would allow, Illumi opened his phone again looking for the message containing the address Hisoka gave him the other day. Drop by anytime he said. Well, he's about to do just that.

They have to get away from this place soon. He looked outside, the rain halting almost at once. Well what do you know? Maybe he could control the weather after all.

He looked down at the cause of all his current troubles. How dare she sleep like that! Well, he decided, if he was going to help her he might as well have a little fun and humiliate her a bit.


Who knew his idea of humiliating her would be making her look like a baby? It was only now that he realized that there's no point in making fun of someone so deep in slumber. Still, it is pretty amazing how he managed the feat.


Appearance-wise, Hisoka looked like the embodiment of Illumi's internal turmoil. The extremely brightly colored hair, the painted tattoos, the Cheshire grin that reaches up to his ears are enough to make his inner OC run.

"I thought you'd never come!" Hisoka said in a sly tone. He was only wearing a towel when he opened the door right before he knocked. He was about to hug him when he noticed the bundle in Illumi's arms. He held back thankfully, for his sanity and Illumi's. There are more pressing things at hand, well in the hands of his friend. He suppressed laughing at his inside joke and peered over curiously at the figure.

"What's with the over-grown baby?" he said cocking an eyebrow.

"Long story," Illumi replied "mind if I come in?"

Hisoka removed himself from the doorway and bowed like a butler.

"How did you know I would be here, anyway?" Hisoka asked.

Illumi shrugged. "Instinct, I guess. But I'm pretty good, huh?" setting the girl down on the sofa.

"Sure are."


A/N: Many thanks to X-MelodiesOfTheSakuraTree-X , NiendaZoldyeck, Hikari-Suzume, and Pandora Destiny for the reviews and story alerts for chapter 2, these things add color to my dull dull life. Thank you.

For the love of bacon, I hope Illumi's not too OOC in this chapter.

I blatantly used my friends' names for the random bad guys. No, they do not have incredibly creepy fascinations and hobbies unlike the aforementioned characters, much to my despair. It was fun making it up tho. Rest assured, I won't be able to look at their faces straight anytime soon.

It was weird how the story's unfolding a bit, I didn't really plan on putting a fight scene there, it just... happened.

I think I need a beta but m not exactly sure how that works x.x

Uploading this now before my [dad's] laptop dies on me. Thank bacon for broadband.

Anyhoot, I hope you enjoyed reading it. :)

I'm a non conformist so m going to say hello instead of hi :)

edit

This is the third time I'll be uploading this chapter. I'm sorry. I don't exactly have enough confidence in this one so I kept on taking it down.

I'm sorry.

REVIEWS, FLAGS, AND COMMENTS ARE HIGHLY ENCOURAGED. I HAVE MANY FLAWS AS A WRITER AND I HOPE I'D GROW AS ONE FROM YOU GUYS.

Love sent,

-vjeury

Trivia: Among the soldiers of squad 257, Orube is one of the most feared and misunderstood probably because of his appearance; sadly people never seem to get past this.

Orube stands a good fifteen feet tall and has the muscles to match. He looked like a half-giant, his skin, the color of a sickly mix of brown and grey. According to locker room conversations, Orube hailed from the mountains of the forbidden beasts and that he traded his sanity so he could be genetically altered by mad scientists and be the perfect biological weapon. These rumours, unfortunately, reached Orube, emotionally scarring him. All he ever wanted is to make friends and since that is unlikely to happen he decided to keep up the monstrous façade and kill everyone who says nasty things behind his back which consisted a good ninety-nine percent of the squad. Migure was the only one who never participated in these discussions which made Orube hope that they could be friends in the future, if not best buddies. Too bad Migure's dead and Orube's a mindless zombie now.