After taking a deep breath to psyche himself up, Kurapika opened the door to the billiards room. Poker, blackjack, and roulette tables populated the room. All were emblazoned with the Nostrade family crest. A bar occupied the right corner, complete with glossy black counter and cushioned bar stools. Behind the counter, vintage alcohol bottles were displayed in glass racks. Mahogany wooden frames lined the windows, doors, and the ceiling's edge. The woodwork, along with the jukebox by the bar counter, gave the room a down-to-earth, homey impression.
Kurapika's nose wrinkled. Occupied or not, the smell of smoke and beer hung in the air like the stench of past business in a bathroom. Regardless, he strolled over to the sole individual sitting at a card table. "Playing by yourself?"
Startled, Neon looked up. "Huh? Oh, yes, I'm playing solitaire." The exposed cards on the table were arranged in an unrecognizable form of the game. "I know over 50 types of solitaire, you know. From the world over."
Kurapika nodded. Neon was an avid gambler in her free time. Kurapika had seen her play many card games with her clients and attendants. How strange but fortunate her ladies in waiting were absent.
Kurapika slipped into the chair opposite of her. "Neon. I won't mince words." Brows furrowed, Neon withdrew her hands from the cards. "Salvestro's arrival was a surprise. You should have told me about him."
Playing with a card, she gazed up at the ceiling. "What's to tell? We were friends. Or mentor and student really. Our families visited cities around the world together. Me, I showcased my Lovely Ghostwriter. He made alliances with foreign dignitaries. Taught me how to be professional in dealings with others. But mostly we practiced fortunes, fortunes, fortunes. He'd pose as some politicians he knew and I tried to figure out what kinda personality made 'em happy." Neon let out a long sigh. "There wasn't time for anything else."
Neon shrugged. "Then out of the blue, he never came back. After four years of friendship—nothing. He was dead to me. Why bring up memories of dead people?" She laid her card on the table, voice lowering. "It's only makes you lonely."
Kurapika flashbacked to his days before he took the Hunter Exam. The long nights of staring into a campfire alone in the wilderness. Drawing in a breath, Kurapika leaned back. "I see. But if he was dead to you, why would call him?"
Neon burst out laughing. "Well, it's natural to call your friends when you're getting married, isn't it?"
Kurapika crossed his arms. So marrying me wasn't some sudden whim of hers. She's planning something. I'm just a bodyguard. What could she gain from marrying me?
Lost in thought the Hunter gazed into the distance. He spied a large pile of manila envelopes and star charts on a nearby table. "What are those?" Frowning, he picked up a page.
"The Wheel of Fortune card predicts disaster. Your wife, so distraught by your tragic death, will run out to find you. Only to be stoned by all the people you cheated. A fitting punishment for an adulterous embezzler like you. Enjoy hell."
Other pages detailed similar sarcastic palm readings and astrology fortune tellings.
Neon made an annoyed noise. She shuffled the cards with such force she risked bending them. "I do all the predictions which I hope will pass, then I write 'actual' ones. It's cathartic. Although any fortune tellings which don't use my Nen are completely made up anyway."
"What? Why?" Kurapika asked, at a loss. "What possible reason would you waste your time doing worthless fortunes?"
With her back to him, Kurapika couldn't see Neon's face. The riffle noise of shuffling cards stopped momentarily. "Ask Papa," she whispered. She resumed shuffling cards.
Kurapika examined the predictions. The most his father had ever asked of him was to do chores or help him skin elk. Kurapika shook his head.
"Forget about that. Come here. Wanna play something? I'm up for anything!" Shuffling the cards, Neon lounged back in the chair, grinning. Her blue eyes glinted dangerously. "Pick your poison."
Kurapika hid a smile. Shoulders straight, he lightly touched the table with his fingertips. "If I were to agree to your proposal, you would want to gamble as well, I imagine?"
"Of course," she said, taken aback. "Duh."
"How about we make matters more interesting? More fun?" Neon stopped shuffling the cards. "Instead of money, we bet information. Whoever wins can ask one question of the loser, who must answer truthfully. My poison of choice is chess."
Neon blinked. "Chess?" Kurapika nodded. "I haven't played that since Sal was visiting regularly. But, sure okay." Neon flitted between the other card tables, head swiveling side to side. "Now where is… Aha!" From a hidden drawer beneath a tabletop Neon pulled out a chess set. Smiling broadly, she set it on their table and began setting up the pieces.
"So you are in agreement about my proposal?"
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Neon waved. "Come on, let's play, already!"
Kurapika struggled to keep from smiling. Now I can learn what kind of person she is from the strategies she employs.
The sleek checkered board gleamed in the low hanging lights. The glass black and white chess pieces were cold to the touch, and heavy, having marble bottoms. It was far finer than the cardboard and rocks Kurapika used when playing with the odd traveler as a young teenager.
"Ladies first," Neon exclaimed, moving a pawn.
Kurapika paused. Mentally shaking his head, he, too, moved a pawn.
"Do you like chess? Eliza is decent at it, but Tigris hates it. She'll only play checkers and quite miserably I would add." Neon slid a bishop into place. Kurapika advanced a pawn. "After Sal left none of the servants wanna play with me. And purple dinosaurs would walk the planet before I could wrestle Papa into playing any kind of game with me."
"Hmm."
"You know what the best board game is? Parcheesi. It's the best combination of strategy and luck. I adore it. We should try it sometime. Backgammon is a close second though but checkers is the absolute worse. It's boring and one-dimensional. Really, it's a brainless game. I told you Tigris hates it, right? Well, one time I had kinged all of my pieces and she only had two pieces left. And they weren't kinged either. Course, at that point I was just keeping her alive 'cause it was so funny seeing her get so mad."
Eyes narrowed, Kurapika glanced up at Neon, then back at the board.
Eventually Neon's storytelling died down. Only the hum of concentration resounded through the room. Kurapika, using his favorite opening tactic, quickly ascertained control of the central area, giving his pieces more movement. However, her bishop limited him, making him wary.
Kurapika advanced a knight. "Check." If Neon didn't move her king piece on this turn, his knight would capture it and he would win. The Hunter had planned a counter strategy for each move. He smirked.
Neon's eyes scanned the board. Then she picked up the king and rook switched the pieces' position. Castling, the move was called. Although the rook was forfeit, the king was safe behind a wall created by the bishop and knight. Leaning back, Neon smiled. Kurapika gazed at her, mouth open. In the many years since his last game, he had forgotten about the tactic. He redoubled his focus. Now I have to rework my entire strategy.
The shadows of the room elongated as the game stretched on for another hour. The pile of captured pieces grew higher. Frowning, Neon fingered her remaining rook. She picked it up. Then she dropped it and moved her knight. Kurapika's eyes widened. Is that—? In relocating her knight, she left an opening for Kurapika to execute her queen, the most powerful piece. Kurapika raised a hand. Wait. Is this a trap? Could she be planning something?
Exhaling, Neon rested against the chair's back, popping a piece of gum. After a moment, she made a face. She reached deep into her mouth and exacted the gum, trails of saliva on her fingers. She stuck the gum wad under the table. Then she began examining her blue nails.
With a flick of his wrist, Kurapika dispatched her queen.
Neon's bored expression transformed into a wicked grin. She fisted her bishop, which hadn't moved since the king and rook switched places an hour ago, and slid it across the board to topple Kurapika's queen.
"What?" Kurapika gasped.
"Ha, ha, ha," Neon crowed, clapping her hands with each laugh. "Now whatcha gonna do?"
Scowling, Kurapika grilled the board. I can still do this…!
Five minutes later, Neon her bishop into Kurapika's king, knocking it over. "Checkmate."
"Damn it!" Kurapika's clenched his jaw so hard his teeth hurt. Crossing his arms, Kurapika laid back against the chair. Had my queen been still alive, I would have won within a few turns. If only I hadn't… Kurapika slowly lifted his head. The girl across from her was humming, kicking out her legs. …underestimated her.
Neon giggled. "So competitive! I'll make a gamer out of you yet."
"What's your question."
"If you had won, what question would you have asked me?"
Kurapika's breath caught in his throat. "W-What?"
Neon frowned. "If you had won, what question would you have asked… me." Seeing Kurapika's expression, her voice trailed off. Her eyes widened. "Ha, ha…" She threw her head back, belting out, "AHAHAHA!" She bent over the table, hitting it with a fist. Wiping away tears, Neon said between gasps, "You were going to ask the same question, weren't you?"
Face reddening, Kurapika turned away. She only laughed harder.
Neon propped her head up with a fist, her flushed and teary-eyed face grinning maddeningly at him. Her sky-blue eyes twinkled with the mischievous delight of a child eating all the cookies in the cookie jar. "That was fun. Let's play another game! But this time…" Neon raised an eyebrow. "Let's ask each other real questions this time. Okay?"
Melody's words echoed in his head. "You should try to get to know her better. She might surprise you."
"Well…" Kurapika smiled. "Sure. Let's."
After sipping iced tea, Leorio scooched the rolling chair closer to his desk. Medical textbooks lay open to the immune response chapter. The open window only let the heat from outside stagnate the air. Beads of sweat rolled down his neck. Like during school tests.
"Now let's see." Bobbing his head to a metal rock band, Leorio drummed his thumb against the textbook to the rhythm. "Killer T cells are cells mediated response while B cells are humoral response."
"Hi, Leorio, isn't it? You've been friends with Kurapika for a long time, right? I wanna hear about all the adventures you two had."
"Humoral reminds of the bone humerus. In that case, B cells are like osteoblast cells." Nodding, he penned the connection in his notebook.
"What are you asking me for? Shouldn't you have already talked about this stuff with him? He's your fiancé for crying out loud."
Leorio chomped on the end of his pen. "No, wait, the 'b' in osteoblast stands for build. Immune cells attack and kill things, not create more cells."
"You don't think I've tried? A whole year has passed and he barely looks at me."
Leorio scribbled out his previous note. "Then it's like an osteoclast cell. Osteoclast cells are bone cells which destroy bone."
"Kurapika isn't much of a talker. Maybe you should do something with him instead. Look, things are different now. Why don't you try again? Hope for the best."
Frowning, Leorio furiously scrubbed the page with an eraser. As he was writing in ink the words didn't disappear. He only erased harder. "Actually, Kurapika's a killer T cell, eating everything he perceives as a threat. You should make like an autoimmune disease and eat him—Wait. What the hell am I saying?" Leorio's erasing ripped a hole into his paper. "Argh!
"Break!" Leorio cried, standing up. "I call break time!"
Leorio stomped out of his bedroom into the hallway. Damn you, Kurapika, when I flunk out of school, you're forging my diploma. After taking a few turns in the halls, Leorio had cooled off. Well, I guess I wouldn't do that. But still, it's your fault that I can't concentrate.
"What do you think you're doing?! Your ball hit my boob!"
Leorio halted. He had just passed a Cherrywood door with shouting behind them. The student glanced both ways. Empty. He cracked open the door.
A red-faced Neon was standing with one hand to her chest and held a cue stick in the other. Kurapika stood a few feet away, hands raised. A billiards table separated them.
"I don't know what went wrong." Kurapika stepped back. "I struck the cue ball with as much force as I did when I broke the triangle. I didn't think the cue ball would bounce off the table's rail like that."
"You're hitting one ball. Not sixteen balls, you stupid moron!"
"Ah. That makes sense."
"This is gonna leave a fat, ugly bruise. Look at it." Neon pulled down the neck of her shirt. "Look at it!"
Kurapika's face burned crimson. Blocking his face with his arms, he turned away. Their eyes connected. "L-Leorio! Great timing. Help me out—Ow!"
Neon threw a billiards ball at Kurapika's shoulder. Flabbergasted, Kurapika held his shoulder and gaped at her. "What was that for?"
"For your sexual harassment!" Neon hurled another striped ball.
Kurapika caught it before it struck his face. "I did no such thing. You and your crazy—" She pitched another. "Knock it off. Or else."
Neon brushed a loose strand of hair back. Hand on a hip, she bent forward. "Or what? You gonna go cry to Papa? Well guess what." Neon strode towards Kurapika, cue stick in hand. She stopped inches away from him. "If you get me in trouble, I'll…" She tried to keep a straight face, but she couldn't help but smile, about to laugh. "I'll trip you down some stairs again."
"That's it," snarled Kurapika. He snatched up a cue ball and threw it. Neon backed up with a yelp. Neon dove for more ammo. They raced to neighboring pool tables, throwing more pool balls and cue sticks at each other. Neon's shrieks of laughter and his angry shouts rose in pitch.
After waiting a moment, Leorio silently shut the door. A smile grew on his face. He retrieved his phone, typed a message, and sent it. He continued down the hallway, whistling a happy tune.
"Hey, Kurapika. Next time you're playing strip pool, lemme in on the action."
"Look, Mamma." A young boy pointed at an insect lying within a dense foliage. "It's an asswhupper."
Laughing, a woman ruffled the boy's blond hair. "That's a 'grasshopper,' Kurapika."
Kurapika grinned wickedly up at his mother. "You don't like bugs, right?"
"Oh no," she gasped, covering her mouth to hide a smile.
"I'm going to go get it!" Kurapika ran towards the feared insect, but something grabbed his wrist, halting him. Frowning, he turned to look.
The woman's head dangled to the right, attached only by a few sinews. Mud coated the left half of her body. Dark blood stains marred her shredded clothes. She lifted her eyelids open, but they were only empty pits. "Naughty boy. You should've stayed with us."
Kurapika tried to jerk his hand free, but his mother's hand was welded onto his wrist.
Her rotting skin pulled back to reveal her teeth as she smiled. "Stayed and died alongside us!" She wrenched his wrist. Kurapika tripped, his face inches from meeting her outstretched hand.
He screamed.
Eyes flying open, Kurapika shot up into a sitting position. Ragged puffs of air escaped his lips in strangled gasps. Sweat slid down his forehead. Kurapika's bloodshot eyes darted over his surroundings. He saw no trees or shrubbery, but four bare walls, two stuffed bookshelves, a desk, and dresser. Shimmering moonlight spilled from his window, replacing the sun poking through the treetop. And he was sitting in a bed, not lying in the mud.
Yanking back the sleeve of his red silk pajamas, Kurapika exposed his left wrist. No busies in the shape of fingers. Head dropping back, Kurapika released a breath. Just a dream. Just that dream again.
Years had passed since he had a nightmare about the Kurta Clan with such intensity. They had reoccurred following his encounter with the Phantom Troupe, but those dreams were mostly him relishing in killing the Spiders. Kurapika ran his hands over his face. They must have begun again because I proposed to Neon.
What if Mother and Father knew I was marrying someone I didn't love? That I plan to divorce her when she's no longer useful? Kurapika's mother would beat him from one end of the village to the other, shouting she had raised her son to be better than that. And his father wouldn't be able to look at Kurapika. Pairo encouraged Kurapika to leave the village to have fun adventures, not work for Underworld Mafia bosses. Make a Mafia daughter who collected human body parts be his new family.
Mother, Father, my tribesmen… Kurapika buried his face in his hands. Forgive me. Oh, please, forgive me.
Hoped you enjoyed! Thanks for reading!
